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#he’s got something deep in the bag with this character
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Bright Lights - Timothée Chalamet X Female Reader
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Title: Bright Lights
Timothée Chalamet X Female Reader
Additional Characters: Zendaya (Mentioned), Denise Villeneuve (Mentioned), Cynthia: your manager (Mentioned), Jody: the interviewer, and your adoring fans (Mentioned)
Requested by: Anon!
WC: 2,363
Warnings: Reader is mentioned wearing a dress, celebrity Reader, Reader is mentioned to have anxiety, nicknames, secret relationship, slightly suggestive, very small angst, and fluff
Your eyes were closed, your breathing slow and deep as you concentrated on your said breathing. You fiddled with the fabric of your attire, a black dress that you were wearing for the red carpet premiere of ‘Dune: Part 2.’ You had played the lead alongside Zendaya and Timothée - your boyfriend. Well, secret boyfriend. You both treasured privacy and liked to keep both your private life and life in the limelight separate. This had been something you both wanted, and so far it had been working out pretty well for the both of you. 
Yes, there had been times when the tabloids would assume and make assumptions about the two of you; digging way too deep into the relationship and scrutinizing the simplest of paparazzi photos. It was stressful, as it was for any celebrity couple, but you both got through it; it helped to communicate and talk things out when one or the other was upset by anything. But you'd deal with all the stress and paparazzi over and over again if it meant that you were with Timothée. He made everything worth it. 
Letting out one more breath, you flickered open your eyes and stepped out of the car as the door opened. The roaring and the screaming from the many, many fans seemed to be coming from everywhere as you stood up. They rushed to the rope, arms reaching out, holding things for you to sign or pictures to take. You gave them all your best smile, thanking them and signing as many autographs before you were sent to the carpet. 
Going to your first interviewer, you gave the young woman a smile before she spoke, "Y/N, it is so lovely to meet you, my name is Jody, and I'd just like to start out by saying that I love your dress." She complimented, making your smile widen. 
"Thank you! I love your outfit too." You replied, seeing Jodi was wearing a simple black suit. Clasping your hands before you, you held onto your bag tightly, feeling a little bit overwhelmed. 
"Thank you!" She gushed before getting into the real questions, "Do you mind telling me who made this particular outfit tonight?"
Clearing your throat lightly, you spoke, "Well," You began thoughtfully, looking at your dress. "The dress was made for me by Valentino, and I just have to thank them for doing such an amazing job. I was stunned when I first saw it." You answered, “The jewelry and bag is Gucci, and my shoes are also Valentino.” Jody seemed impressed, nodding her head slightly before she went into her next question.
"How did you get cast into the movie, if you don't mind me asking?" She asked, and you felt yourself become more at ease. 
"My manager called me up one day and told me that Denis wanted me to come in for auditions. Cynthia, my manager, never told me what it was for, though I did have a feeling that it might’ve been for the second Dune movie. But it seemed that I did a good job since I was cast." You let out a small laugh, and Jody gave you a smile and a nod, bringing the mic back over to her.
"So, Denis Villeneuve specifically asked you to be in his movie?" She asked, bringing the mic back over to you.
You nodded, shifting your weight slightly, "Yes, he had told me once when we were filming for ‘Dune: Part 2’ that he loved my work in the ‘Transformers’ series and ‘Barbie.’" Your lips quirked upwards into a grin. It was simply phenomenal working on the movie with Denis and the rest of the cast. And I feel very honored to have had the chance to be a part of this, honestly, groundbreaking movie."
"That's amazing, I love those movies, and I have no doubt you are incredible in this movie as well." Jody spoke, "So, I wanted to bring up a little something." Her words made your stomach twist unsurely, you knew what was coming, "There have been rumors that you and Timothée Chalamet are involved in some way, and I'd just like to ask if that rumor is true?"
You could feel your cheeks grow hot, as your eyes glanced down the carpet, seeing Zendaya and Timothée further down. You couldn't help but let your eyes wander over Timothée, wearing a black baggy top, and silver shiny pants. Zendaya wore an amazing robotic-eeque suit, which was mighty impressive. And Timothée looked absolutely handsome, the lights of the multiple cameras flashing as he smiled with Daya by his side.
You let out an awkward, breathy laugh, turning back to the interviewer, "Well, we're just really good friends. Timothée has been my biggest supporter through everything, the same goes for Zendaya, and I feel really lucky to have worked alongside them in this movie." You said as professionally as you could as Jody gave you and nodded in thanks before you were asked to go to your first mark.  
Standing before the flashing cameras and paparazzi yelling out your name, you posed and looked at the many cameras as best as you could. Your eyes burned from the constant flashing but your smile never wavered. You had been doing this for a long time, so you were pretty used to it. You were snapped out of your thoughts though when you felt a familiar hand wrap around your waist. Your faux camera-ready smile quickly turned into a real one when you looked over to see Timothée, already looking down at you. His green eyes were soft as they took you in, and you felt yourself melt under his gaze as he gave you a soft, loving smile. 
"Hi, Timmy," You greeted your boyfriend, leaning in more toward him subconsciously, hoping he could hear you over all of the people; you felt his grip on you tighten.
"Hello, mon amour," He muttered, his voice deep. His eyes flickered to the cameras, then back to you, "I've missed you," He then said, and you looked up at him once more, giving him a smirk with a small tilt of your head as your eyes glanced from his eyes, to his hair, and back. You had to suppress the urge to run your fingers through his hair. But, you know that you'd have him all to yourself after the premiere was over.
Timothée was feeling ever-so-much the same, the urge to just lean down and kiss you was strong. His hands itched to pull you close, press against your body, and kiss every inch of skin that you could offer until the world fell away. But Timothée had to hold off on doing anything of the sort. He felt his smile widen, his eyes gazing from your eyes, the soft slope of your nose, and down to the smile on your face. He loved your smile. Your smile was breathtaking. He couldn't believe that he was dating you. You. He was so in love with you. He felt so lucky to get to wake up and see you beside him, to share his moments with you, to just be with you. He had no difficulty imagining spending the rest of his life with you.
"We saw each other no more than four hours ago, Timmy," You laughed lightly, breaking him from his thoughts of you as you felt your cheeks heat up from his intense gaze.
Timothée only returned your smirk, “And I’ve been missing you the moment we left the hotel," He turned back to face the cameras, looking like a complete natural. You felt your heart skip a beat at his comment, admiring the way he looked as he smiled at the cameras. You were so proud of him. You felt his hand tighten once more on your waist, his thumb brushing against the soft fabric as he waved to the many cameras with his other hand, "I'll see you inside?" He asked, and you gave him a nod.
"As always," You watched as he looked down at you once more before slipping his arm from your waist and taking your hand in his. Raising your hand to his lips, Timothée kept his beautiful green eyes locked on yours as he pressed a lingering kiss to the back of your hand; leaving you breathless. Reluctantly, he let go, your hand dropping back to your side as he headed to his mark. He got his kiss, and you got yours.
Letting out a happy sigh, you knew there were going to be rumors, tabloids, and whatever else talking about what had transpired but you didn't care. You were just content with having Timothée with you tonight, even for a little while. You could still feel the warmth that his arm had left, and it gave you butterflies in your stomach. You knew when this was all over, you’d be with him again, cuddled in your hotel room, and you couldn’t wait.
Finally, you made it inside the theater, finding Timothée and sitting down beside him. He quickly turned his head when he felt you sit down, giving you that stunning smile of his. You returned the gesture happily, your heart swelling at just the sight of him. As the lights dimmed and the many celebrities around hushed, you felt Timothée's hand land on your thigh; your hand swiftly moved over to cover his. You bit your lip lightly as you let the soft pad of your thumb brush over his knuckles, he then interlocked his fingers with yours just as the film began to play. The intro music echoed throughout the theater, and the first scene began to play out.
How did you get so lucky?
Around more than halfway through the movie, your eyes began to droop. Your head fell to the side and landed on Timothée's shoulder. You tried to fight it, you really did, but you were tired and slightly overwhelmed by the paparazzi and flashing cameras. Timothée turned his head slightly, his nose brushing the crown of your head, a small smile on his face as he gently squeezed your hand.
"I'll wake you when it's over," He whispered to you, gently rubbing his thumb against your wrist, and you hummed quietly in response, "Go to sleep, sweetheart."
You slowly nodded, letting your eyes flutter close. How did he get so lucky?
~~~
When you opened your eyes, you frowned deeply, confused. You sat on your bed, phone in hand, on Tumblr. You looked around your hotel room, saw your TV playing some YouTube video, your clock on your bedside table read ten in the morning, and the sun was sitting high in the sky outside. You felt your shoulders drop, a deep breath falling out between your lips. You dropped your phone onto the mattress, rubbing your tired eyelids with the palms of your hands before you looked around your bedroom. 
You were a bit confused, not remembering how you got into bed in the first place. You shut your eyes as you tried to remember the night before, remembering the premiere, but the memories from that event were blurry. It was hard to tell if you actually went to the premiere or if it was all a dream. Such large and public events were a bit stressful for you, and you often had to sleep the overwhelming sense of anxiety away before you could function properly. 
But as you opened your eyes, you brought your gaze to the closet door, you spotted the garment bag that hung there; you could see your tan dress inside through the sheer fabric of the bag. Sweeping your gaze back around your room again, you spotted Timothée’s black premiere shirt draped over the hotel room chair; his black shoes were next to your heels by the closet. You sighed heavily, running your hands through your hair. It wasn't a dream, you had gone to the premiere. You knew that your anxiety sometimes caused you to forget details from these big and stressful events, and the more you sat there, the more you began to remember the events of the night before.  
Letting out a small sigh of relief, you turned your attention to the other side of your bed, frowning slightly as Timothée wasn't there. Before you got out of bed to get ready for the day, your eyes spotted a small pink sticky note on Timothée's bedside table. Reaching over, you pulled the sticky note from the wooden surface, your small frown turning upside-down at the sight of Timothée's handwriting. 
'I got a call from my manager, I didn't want to disturb you. Ordering breakfast whenever you’re ready. Forever yours, T.'
Kicking off the hotel covers, you felt your stomach rumble at the mere thought of food. With a smile, you jumped from the bed and slipped out of the room, your eyes immediately spotting Timothée as he lightly paced around the main area of the hotel suite, phone to his ear as he spoke to his manager. You leaned against the doorway, crossing your leg over the other, your arms crossing as you smiled; watching as Timothée's eyes darted to where you stood, his expression changing instantly as he gave you a second glance. 
His face softened as soon as you smiled at him, pausing his pacing, unable to look away from you. Timothée finished whatever he was saying to his manager before hanging up the phone and walking towards you, "Good morning, mon amour," He greeted, stopping in front of you as he tucked your hair behind your ear and cupped your cheek with one of his hands, dipping down slightly to press a loving kiss to your lips, "Sleep well?"
You hummed softly, nodding your head, "Very much so, yes." You replied, pressing your hand against his hand on your cheek, his skin warm and soft under your fingertips.
He chuckled softly, pulling away from your touch and taking your hand in his, leading you backward into the suite. "Ready for breakfast then?"
"Absolutely," You nodded, your chest warming from the overwhelming happiness and adoration that you were feeling, "I'm starving."
---
Main Masterlist | Celebrity Masterlist
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tteokdoroki · 6 months
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ೀ⋆OCT 16TH CLUELESS ━━ megumi fushiguro + step-cest !
୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. megumi fushiguro + step-cest. are you totally buggin’ or is your college-goer, goody two shoes step-brother kinda into messing around with you? (7.6K)
୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, enemies to lovers (?), step-cest, photos, videos, fingering, choking, praise kink, panty sniffing, body worship, riding stuffed animals, daddy kink, soft sex, unprotected sex, bimbo-ish + fem!reader, step-brother!megumi fushiguro.
୨୧ — director’s note. lets gooo another kinktober installment! i actually haven't written for megumi in ages and this is kinda long so...i hope this is okay? sorry this is late btw, please enjoy! <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧
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let’s get one thing straight. 
not all daddy’s girls are dumb.
on the contrary, you’re actually highly intelligent and thoroughly educated — graduating at the top of every single one of your classes in high school, despite negotiating a fair portion of your grades with your teachers. after school, however, you couldn’t quite figure out what you wanted to do and everyone else you knew spent their time growing up around you. daddy wanted you to go to college, get your degree so you could find your footing in the world…he would even pay for it too.
but like every other twenty-something year old girl your age, you were completely and utterly clueless about the direction you wanted to take.
perhaps that was the reason as to why your step-brother, megumi, annoyed you so much. indoctrinated into your family unit of two (yourself and your father, of course) — megumi had joined you to play happily-family when his mother married your father. their fast-paced union didn’t last long, however, for your parents were quickly divorced by the new year…and apparently, you can only divorce people. not children. meaning that your older step sibling had decided he would much rather stick around for the long haul.
it could even be said that megumi fushiguro was an even bigger daddy’s boy (or kiss ass) than you were a daddy’s girl. he went to college on daddy’s money, ate on daddy’s money and got jobs using daddy’s money and power. now, he’s some big time hot shot at an environmental law firm and it irks you just how much your father is pushing for you to be just like megumi. in everybody’s eyes, your step brother was the picture perfect child, an example to follow, a fine gem.
and since your father liked that so much; likes how responsible and diligent megumi is — it would explain why your older step-brother could get away with sneaking up on you in your own house (favourite child privileges). “what are you all dressed up for?” the husky lilt to his deep voice sends shockwaves through your system and a shiver down your spine, making you jump away from the fridge you’re rummaging through.
“a party.” you say frigidly. the dark haired male makes a face and you roll your eyes at him in a disapproving manner. as if megumi was in any position to judge you for your plans and late night endeavours. he was a boring old college student clinging to his younger step sister whilst you were doing society a favour and helping your friend get together with the guy she liked. 
it’s what you do! helping the less fortunate instead of studying for some boring piece of paper and graduate degree. 
you were such a good person. 
turning away from the cool air and dull hum of the fridge freezer, you tuck a few juices to be used as mixers for the party into your bag — ignoring the heaviness of your step brother’s admiral blue gaze as it slips over the curve of your waist, the expanse of your thighs and the bounce of your chest peeking out from your skimpy little get up. it’s funny, how you’ve never liked the way boys have looked at you in the past — but something about the way he drinks you in as if you’re the last glass of water on the plant makes your legs shaky and your breath turn short and…
“can i come?” 
with his lips pressed into a thin line and his emotions hidden behind the perfect mask of his perfect face — megumi slams the fridge door shut, to make you squeak again. his brows raising expectantly while he waits for your answer. “a-as if fushiguro.” you huff in annoyance, jabbing the older step-sibling in his shoulder as he towers over you. “aren’t you too old for house parties? i wouldn’t want you to cramp my style.” 
“i’m not that much older than you.” he laughs, it’s melodious sound sending a warmth through your body.
rolling your eyes, you snap back. “you’re old enough.” 
you make yourself small as you pass by him, attempting to escape his suffocating presence. he makes you feel weird, and you don’t exactly hate it — sure megumi is annoying, snarky and a little mean but he’s… attractive, like next level attractive. he’s got those dreamy sea-storm eyes that make you feel as though you’ll die and go to heaven, a sexy smirk that gets you hot and bothered even if it’s not directed at you. all of your friends have had crushes on your step brother at some point, ones that cause jealousy to brim just under the surface of your skin, pricking you like a thousand tiny needles. your jealousy totally doesn’t have anything to do with you trying to hook your friend up tonight by the way (lying to yourself makes you feel better).
however, feeling this way about megumi is wrong, nowhere near normal. anybody could have told you that — it’s just that your family relationships make things complicated and you don’t want to make this weird between you both. you’d never admit it, but you do enjoy the back and forth sibling-like banter the two of you have. would ruining that be worth it? even if your step-brother was like…everything you’d ever wanted in a guy; not like those snot-nosed, unhygienic, monkey-brained losers you used to go to school with. 
instead, megumi was smart, established and with his future practically set in stone. maybe that’s why you picked on him, why you acted like a spoiled brat whenever he was around, why you pretended to despise his every existence and wish he’d never become a part of your family. because megumi  constantly reminds you of your failures or what your future could be if you put your mind to it and actually tried. 
“maybe, college guys like me wouldn’t seem like such losers if you actually gave furthering your education a shot,” your step brother cuts through your thoughts, stalking behind you with his hands in his pockets as you leave the kitchen and head towards the foyer — getting ready to head out for the party. “just do what your daddy wants, angel. go to college, get your degree so he can get off my back and you can be smart like me. yeah?” 
“and why would i listen to you?” there’s nothing you can do to shake him — your older step brother tailing you as if he’s your own personal guardian. he stops walking when you stop walking, bumping into your back, while a shocked whimper lays flat on the seam on your lips. 
megumi passes you a jacket (which you slide on by yourself) whilst he chuckles again, the sound rumbling in his chest and through your body pressed hotly against his. “‘cause i’m your big brother.” his voice is almost scolding, playfully so, holding a darker tone that you almost recognise as lust whole his larger-than yours hands force their way down to the fat at your waist. “now c’mere, let me fix your outfit. can’t have you goin’ out like this…” megumi squeezes your hips, using his grip on them to spin you around so that you can face him. 
you expect him to tell you to cover up more — that your pretty white dress is too short and that you’re too promiscuous. what you don’t  expect is for the dark haired male to sink to his knees before you, soft and attentive fingers sliding up your inner leg to fix your thigh-highs as that have slipped down. you barely manage to choke back a needy moan. 
he doesn’t let up on the eye contact either; only serving to fog up your pretty little head. “s-step brother,” you manage to remind him gently, finding your voice. 
fushiguro rolls his eyes, poking his tongue into his cheek. “that was your take away, pretty girl?” he doesn’t stop touching you, going as far to peek his head up your skirt — pretending to finish fixing your socks despite the subtle press of his nose against your panties and pinging them against your backside once done fondling you. “there we go, better.” 
he even goes as far to pat your bum in accomplishment too. 
you feel pathetic for letting your step brother touch you in such a taboo way, failing to push megumi off. but he’s never been so bold and you’ve never wanted him more — craving megumi through an insatiable burning in your chest. there’s always been a sexual tension brewing between you both, fuelled by your banter, your rage and mischievousness but how could you act on it? 
megumi was practically family. your family. it would be weird. you couldn’t be anything more without crossing the line of what’s deemed acceptable and what isn’t for step siblings. you have to remember who he is to you, an older brother, a menace to your friends who crush on him and someone who had called you selfish once upon a time. 
finally snapping back to reality, you force yourself away from the tendrils of your step-brother’s grip — swiping your purse from the entryway table and storming towards the door. “you’re buggin’ gumi!” you squeak from the porch. “stop being weird a-and stay out of my room!”  
the door slams harshly as you vacate the property in favour of the party, practically running down the steps with a rapid shake of your head. doing anything you can to rid yourself of all thoughts concerning the enigma that is your older step brother.
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the party doesn’t help, and instead ends up a total disaster.
your plan to set your friends up completely falls apart when your ex-best guy friend decides to make a move on you on the way home and drops you off in the middle of nowhere after rejecting him. to top it off, some asshole robs you for your fendi purse at a gas station and makes you lie down on the ground in your matching designer dress! 
the whole ordeal nearly reduces you to tears and forces you to call the one person you’d been trying to forget about all night. megumi. 
he picks you up without a word of protest, but you swear that you can feel his disappointment radiating off of him in thick, asphyxiating waves. “please don’t tell daddy,” you had sniffed, eyes big and teary. and megumi can’t bring himself to blame you or to be mad at you because you’re so sweet and sensitive and a little too good for this world. that and you have no idea how much seeing you cry fucks with his head. 
“you’re a smart girl, baby.” he’d replied softly — though his eyes were hard and his grip on the steering wheel even harder, indicated by the white of his knuckles. “you shouldn’t be messing around in places like this. it’s exactly why you should be in college.” 
like the good big (step) brother he is, fushiguro sneaks you back into the house without a word to your watchful father. instead, he spends the rest of the night comforting you with silly cartoons to heal your inner child. deep down, it means a lot — usually the two of you would argue over control of the remote, and he would always win. this time, megumi lets you be. 
“i don’t think i’m cut out for college,” you sigh after a moment’s silence, ren and stimpy providing the backing track to your vocalised thoughts. “‘m not much aside from my pretty face.” 
fushiguro rolls over so that you lay side by side, nudging you with his elbow playfully. “what would you do instead?” 
“i dunno,” growing bashful, you tuck your face into your shoulder — afraid that he might laugh. “start a fashion business, give people make overs? i think i’m good at that.” 
“you’re good at a lot of things, angel. and making people feel god about themselves is one of them,” rather than belittling your dreams, tearing them down like you’d expect — megumi encourages you, flashing you a small yet supportive smile. “you take care of people.” 
flustered by his praise, you lean into megumi’s side — playing footsie with him at the end of your bed shyly. “you’re better at taking care of me, though.” you whisper, nearly missing the way his eyes drop to your lip-gloss smudged lips. 
“yeah? s’what big brothers are for, right?” he whispers back, a breath’s width away from your lips, nose inches away from nudging yours as if he’s going to kiss you. he wouldn’t be your step-brother if he wasn’t so full of annoying surprises, instead of pulling you into a lip lock — megumi grasps at the remote on your other side in an attempt to change the channel to something more boring and scholarly. 
you protest in the form of a sibling play fight causing you both to roll around in the sheets — fighting for the remote or perhaps dominance over the sexual tension that thickens the air. heat rises throughout the room and your wrestling turns to megumi pinning you to your babyish pink sheets, straddling your waist. he grips your wrists, clasping them together between his large, veiny hands and forces them above your head.
everything happens so quickly, yet so slowly and all at once. one moment you’re fighting like siblings do and the next — megumi fushiguro is finally kissing you, tongue lapping at the crack between your parted lips from where you’ve gasped in shock. tasting every ounce and every essence of the remainder of your gloss, breathing weightily into your mouth as if it’s a relief to have it pressed against his own. you swallow everything he gives you and drink up his saliva as it pools into your mouth to the point where your head spins and you feel like he’s spiked you with arousal. 
this is wrong, on so many levels. as if you would ever make out with your step brother. but this isn’t some kind of twisted dream, it’s a reality you find yourself basking in. you pull megumi onto you by the roots of his dark hair, mewling each time your lips slot together perfectly and whining when his hips start to jut down to meet the softness of your tummy. or when his large hands push and pull at sensitive parts of your body. 
“you’re nothin’ like those college girls.” he tells you once you break apart for air. megumi’s nose nudges your cheek and his kisses dive lower into the crook of your neck while he waits for you to catch your breath. “you’re softer, prettier, you’re—“
he lets go of your wrists.
tilting your head back into your plush pillows, your shaky fingers tangle in the dark, unruly curls of your step brother’s baby hairs. “i’m what?” you tease through a series of pretty little moans, like music to megumi’s ears. you feel him twitch against your inner thigh and the temperature of his body spikes to a sweltering degree. 
“perfect.” his rough tongue swipes over your prominent collarbones and over the fabric of your dress, slipping under the crevice where your breasts meets your rib cage. using his teeth, fushiguro pulls down your dress until it inches off of your shoulders, revealing more of your skin marked with scars, beauty and stretch marks. it comes off easily, exposing you to a pair of hungry, murky blue eyes. the dress remains bunched at your middle.
you must be tripping out — you’ve never seen this look in your step brother’s eyes before. he stares up at you, lips swollen and breath ragged, as if you’re the last meal on earth he’ll ever get to taste. the sexual tension was never obvious to you, and while you’ve always found megumi weird — it didn’t mean you disliked his company. 
“quit staring,” you whine, arching your back into megumi’s touch as it drags across your searing flesh. “it’s weird…you’re making it seem like it’s a bad thing…” 
he yanks down the front of your dress, smooths down the valley between your breasts and over your tummy as they rise and fall with each of your baited breaths. “you don’t like it when i look at you, pretty baby?” then suddenly, his thumb slips back over your naked nipple, curling your sensitive areola before applying a gentle pressure that makes you jolt up the bed. “there’s nothin’ bad about you.” 
fushiguro’s grip runs down to your sides like an easy stream of water, grasping at any flesh he can while simultaneously pulling your hips up to meet his — slotting perfectly against your body to make sure you can feel how hard he is for you. “i’m not like those college girls you’re usually into…” comes your shaky whisper. “‘m too dumb.”
it’s weird, megumi’s never made you nervous until now. 
“no. you’re smart, you’re perfect… you deserve more than the guys that you’re into. you shouldn’t waste your time.” 
his steady hands slide over the curve of your ass, dip beneath the hem of your dress to play with your doughy thighs and every note of his praise is sung over your quivering body.
“so what?” you go on, stepping into the dark to explore whatever the fuck this is with your step brother. “i should waste it on college boys like you?” 
the tail end of your words are lost in a gasped breath as megumi nudges a knuckle against the crotch of your underwear — chuckling softly at the wetness that pools in the seat of them. “you would be if you came with me.” a sort of sick and twisted expression, morphs on his handsome face. one that’s usually so stoic and unreactive to your whines and mewls. but this version of megumi seems to like watching you squirm, revels in the way your hips buck up on instinct the further he presses his fingers between your sticky, viscous folds. “god, sweetheart. your princess parts are already so wet for me.” 
heat flashes across your face, accompanied by the unfamiliar twinge of lust you for megumi you feel buzzing beneath your skin and swirling with the blood in your veins. the way he coos down at you, eyes hooded and tone condescending — it only serves to cloud your judgement and your mind. you shouldn’t be doing this. but you want to. so badly. 
“shut up.” you huff and look away, eyes threatening to roll back into your skull as megumi flicks at your clit from over your skimpy panties. the more he plays with you, rubs at his little sister’s cute pussy, the more your thighs twitch apart — revealing the treasure between them to his dirty-minded gaze. 
the groan that follows vibrates around in the cavity of megumi’s chest before shooting down to your glistening core as it convulses under his fingertips. “you’ll miss me when i go back, don’t deny it.” he tells you like he knows you, voice horse with growing desire. “you should really come with.” 
you scrunch your nose up at his request — of course he would choose now of all times to be annoying and tease you about college. “as if, megumi.” you warn, though it’s hard to stay mad at him when he presses two fingers against your spasming entrance, azure eyes darkening at a stream of your arousal dampens your panties — defining the shape of your puffy folds even more. 
“yeah, yeah. i know, baby. not the time, huh?” megumi hums in amusement, gaze flickering up to your face to watch it twist with euphoria as he continues to pinch and rub at your cunt until your chest is heaving. “you want it that bad. wanna be touched so bad. pretty girls like you can’t do anything without their big brothers...” while he rambles over the drool replacing logical words on his tongue, your step brother pulls his hand away from your sex briefly to push past the lace scalloping on your underwear and access your wetness. “all this, ‘cause of me?” 
“all ‘cause of you.” you breathe the words out like they’re air and nod shyly at your own admission despite the high pitched, babyish tone. to let your stupid older step brother know how much he affects you is embarrassing, borderline humiliating, but you can’t help but fall into him. megumi rewards you with two fingers stroking their way past the tight ring of your entrance, curling instantly to explore your gummy, oozing walls and locate the exact spots that make you tick.
he presses a chaste kiss to your sweaty cheek, body hunched over your shaky one as if to shield the scandalous sight from the world. his little sister split open on his fingers, drenching him in her scent and her slick as fushiguro scissors them and fucks you silly. “mhm, that’s my girl. so nice for me and my fingers. i like you better this way,” he slurs, long and dark lashes (ones that you’d die for) fluttering against your skin as his digits move faster and faster within your selfish, ribbed walls. “when all you can do is cry and make those pretty noises, instead of being a little brat to me all the time.” 
fushiguro pauses his ministrations, forcing you to wriggle and writhe and chase your pleasure for only a moment. “m-megumi!” your hips jut upwards in an attempt to coax some friction out of him, anything on your pulsing clit or against your pleasure spots dotted along your insides. “p-please. fuck, gumi— i need it.” 
he only smiles, his thumb finding your clit and his fingers pick up the pace — bearing down on your g-spot with every thrust into your tight heat. “that’s what i like to hear, none of that back talk. just your pretty voice, beggin’ for me.” he sweet talks you over the dirty, lewd and squishy sounds from your thoroughly fucked cunt as they ring out into the sex tainted air. they form a chorus with your hiccups and pathetic bleats for more — and if your body is a choir, megumi fushiguro is the conductor. he guides you to the gates of heaven, feeds you pieces of pleasure from the grapevine of sun and you let him. 
because he’s your big (step) brother, and you trust him after all. 
“fuck, you’re so pretty. could watch you make a mess of me all night.” 
the bricks bliss build up in your lower tummy, cemented together by megumi’s relentless fingers pumping in and out of your slick sex. you’re the perfect vision, a sight to behold — darling gem eyes shiny with tears, tongue tied to the roof of your mouth by strings of saliva and your body doused with a glimmer of perspiration. your step brother can’t help but create a copy of you grinding against his hand on his mind. filing it away for later. 
pulling his fingers from your selfish heat, megumi brings his hand down against it in a harsh slap — his entire body shuddering at the surprised wail you let out, and the stream of juices that fly up his arm as a result. “ooh, baby. what a pretty noise you just made.” he laments with a rough voice, soothing over the spank with soft flicks to your swollen clit. “can you do that again for me?” 
he doesn’t give you the chance to answer, spanking your pussy again, and again and again until his head is heavy with the sounds of your broken moans and your panties are soaked all the way through — darkened by the running two of your sweet honey nectar that allow his slender fingers to slip back inside you with ease. 
they tease at your stimulated walls and push and pull your tight little hole — and you swear you can practically see the stars that line the night sky with every new sensation. fushiguro is in no better state, cock painstakingly hard and straining against the insides of his sweats while his cool midnight eyes drink in the way your hips stutter and struggle to keep up with the pace of his digits inside of you. 
“‘gumi… i think i—“ your words escape you, drowned out by your own pussy as it squelches around megumi’s fingers. 
he kisses your forehead, contrasting my soft compared to the way he stretches you open and preps you for his cock. “i bet that feets good, huh? you feel like you’re gonna cum.” his tone turns into a mocking one, deep enough to send shivers down your spine and threaten to knock down the wall of mounting pleasure in your lower gut.
tears teeter over the edge of your waterline, streaking a hot path down the apples of your angelic cheeks as your hips lift off the bed — chasing the high only your big brother could give to you. “feels so good, p-please let me cum, ‘gumi.” 
you look to him for reassurance and permission, hiccuping as megumi pulls his fingers out of you to trace from your clit and down the length of your juicy slit. pride swirls in his blazing chest when your body jerks at the sensation, hips running after the source of pleasure. you’re such a good little thing, so pliant and naive — following after your step brother no matter what he does to you. maybe you’re right, maybe you’re a little too dumb for college. but it doesn’t matter right now, not with the way your creamy entrance clenched down on fushiguro lovingly, pleading with him to let you cum.
you’re so close and he knows it, he’d have given into you if he weren’t trying to make this last. 
“actually, i want you to do something for me.” he stops right before you’re about to burst, dragging his fingers out of your pulsating pussy to smear your wetness across your tummy and thighs. 
a babyish blubber bubbles up on the swell of your pouty lips, coated in a layer of salt from your free-flowing tears. “w-what? m-megumi! i was so close!” you say in a petulant manner, squishing your thigh together and trapping his hand between them as if to coax him back into making you cum.
“so spoilt, more like.” your step brother bites back, almost punishing you by removing his body from yours so that he can rid himself off all of his clothes. he tosses them off the bed, but not before pulling his phone from his sweatpants and setting it to the side.
you swallow thickly when his cock springs free and slaps against his washboard abs. megumi is lengthier than he has girth, his balls heavy with an incredulous amount of seed saved up just for you. his tip is pink, almost bright red but coated in a layer of pre that’s no doubtedly smeared along the inside of his sweats but it’s a delicious sight to see nonetheless. 
now you really must be bugging. you’re most certainly clueless to have never thought of megumi this way before today. 
your throat bobs when he grabs hold of his rock hard shaft, hissing at the first few lazy pumps he gives himself.  “i want you to do something for me. then i’ll make you cum.” fushiguro proposes gruffly, locking eyes with you carnally. “put on a show for me princess, ride one of your cute little stuffed animals over there so i can make a memory for when i go back to college.” 
his ask doesn’t register in your pretty little head, and megumi figures he might have left you dazed from withholding your orgasm. or maybe you’re distracted by the way in which he fists his cock, spreading webs of milky white up and down his shaft and over his mushroomed tip with each movement. you hardly notice the fact that he’s reached for his phone, setting it to record using his free hand. 
“you hear me, pretty… fuck…girl?” he curses in a low moan, squeezing himself. 
this time, your attention shoots to his face while your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “y-you want me to… fuck my stuffie?” 
you ask megumi so innocently, head tilted to the side like a sweet little puppy dog and he swears he might bust to you right then and there. 
“fuck…yes.” 
“and you won’t touch me?” 
“not until i’m satisfied, princess.” 
and like the bratty little sister you are, dress pushed down to your middle and makeup askew, you huff at your step-brother — all while grabbing your favourite and biggest stuffed bear to tuck against the ruined treasure between your thighs. 
“you’re so fuckin’ mean, ‘gumi,” you try to keep your cool, but you’re too sensitive — lowering your twitching sex onto the soft toy slowly. “o-oh…”
he angles the camera perfectly to record you, zooming in on your cute little cunt as it slips and slides over the bear with ease.
even beyond the camera, you’re a sight for megumi fushiguro’s sore eyes, each of your curves and dips illuminated by the glistening beads of sweat that roll over the expanse of your skin – catching the low, warm yellow light from up above. he always knew that his little step sister was pretty, practically an angel, but up until now he’d relied soley on his dirty imagination to picture the way you’d look fucking yourself for him. the stuffed toy easily disappears between the meat of your pudgy thighs as you rock back and forth over it, nudging your clit against the nose of the fluffy brown bear.
“feels good, right?” he mumbles lowly, the sound vibrating in his chest. megumi can’t help but be engrossed in your every move, the soft jut of your hips and the bite down on your plump and shiny lips, the way in which your fingers dare to dance up the salacious softness to your curves and skin. “my pretty little thing. i can see why your daddy loves you so much. you’re such a good girl, listening to everything i say.”
megumi’s words waft over your mind like a thick fog of lust, darkening every pure thought you’ve ever had. your whole body twitches at their patronising air, dopamine crackling about in your skull and shooting down to the heartbeat swirling around your fluttering hole. it gushes and gushes, like an endless stream of erotica and glazes over the apex of your thighs like the shin of a sugary treat.
one that makes your step brother’s mouth water with anticipation.
each of your sweet mewls and whistle-tone bleats run through his ears like thick honey, rotting him from the inside out. perhaps that’s what makes megumi so perverted and what makes him crush on his perfect and prim little sister, you’re a fool to have not noticed it before. how he looked at you then and how megumi looks at you now, midnight blue and stormy orbs drowning with lust. your gaze flutters down to his cock, standing tall and flushed against his creamy white skin, neglected as it leaks all over his stomach.
“oh you like that, huh? you shake so much when i talk to you like that.” fushiguro starts to fist his cock faster, matching the speed at which you shakily circle your hips over the poor stuffed animal — panting as it’s fabric darkens with your wetness. “a daddy’s girl through ‘n through.” he teases while you throw it back for his phone.
sure enough, the camera picks up his warm chocolate voice as it coos its praises to you. such a good girl. ride it out princess. all of it fills you to the brim with wanton and desire, makes you crumble before the glaring lense of fushiguro’s phone.
“s-shut up.” 
“uh-uh. and you were doing so well,” your step brother sounds almost cruel, reminding you of the reasons you didn’t get along before today. acting like a school boy picking on his crush, being mean to her because deep down he knows that she likes it. that you like it. “don’t be rude baby. put on a show for ‘gumi.” 
he takes to palming himself more, precum slinging across his knuckles and down his thighs the more turned on he gets. it clings to every vein on his shaft, spreads to the weight of his balls and no doubt can be heard through the camera since slick and lewd noises of the both of you touching yourselves echo throughout your bedroom. megumi does his best to keep the camera steady, but he can’t help himself — following your movements and thrusting up into his closed fist to mock your pussy while you ride your stuffie for dear life.
you’re still so sensitive, but your big brother can tell you’re trying so hard to keep up for him — fighting off your next orgasm as it builds up strong in your lower belly. you want to please megumi, at the end of the day. a smart girl like you knows  “that’s it, keep it movin’ for me…god, you make me wanna cum.” 
you pout at the praise, rutting over the face of your stuffed animal as you breath heavy. it feels way too good, you’re overwhelmed by too many senses and megumi watching you spill your juices about the place doesn’t seem to help. dragging a hand up to your bare chest, you tweak your nipples and tug them until  a needy squeal dancing on your wobbly bottom lip — doing your very best to please the dark haired college student.
you want him to cum, want him to memorise the way your eyes roll back and your moans and quivers — you feel so beautiful beneath his heavy, desire burdened stare. “m-megumi,” you say for the millionth time that night, squirming before his very eyes while you dream on the nose of your precious toy. “i-i’m close!” your hips burn holding back you release, exhaustion and just intertwining in your veins — combusting in your lungs. 
clueless. you were absolutely clueless as to how it would feel falling apart under the caring gaze of someone who loves you so much. 
“yeah, pretty girl?” fushiguro hums gently, giving his cock one last squeeze at the base — cutting off the stream of ore that he dribbles from the source. “c’mere, i gotcha.” he shuffles over to you on the bed, catching you before you fall with his lips pressed to your wet babyish cheeks. “i’ll let you cum, but only on my cock. you’ve got to stay good for me, okay?” 
nodding timidly, you accept a few more kisses from megumi — the ones that he peppers across your face, before he manoeuvres you onto your side and nestles in right behind you. “say you want me,” the words coast along the back of your neck and your body erupts in goosebumps. his voice will always be like a dragon breathing life into a fire. sure to be careful, megumi lifts one of your thighs and hooks it over his slender waist so that he can better access your sluice sex.
he tugs your underwear to the side with one hand and positions his cock at your entrance, sliding the length of his shaft through the strings of your arousal glueing your pussy lips together. both of you hiss in harmony when his bright red tip grinds messily against your pulsing pleasure bud. your unused hole clenches around nothing, pushing out juices as if to claim megumi. 
your head rolls back to rest on megumi’s broad shoulder and you reach a hand behind you to tangle in the dark mass of his sweaty locks — keeping him close. “i need you, ‘gumi. please.” you rasp weakly as his shaft breaches your silken walls, coating him in everything your body has to offer. you spoil megumi, giving him a moment to remember before he leaves for college again.
there’s a delicious residual burn from the way his girth stretches you out causing your cunt so selfishly squeezes down on every inch of your step brother’s milky cock. with a stuttered breath, fushiguro bottoms out until his balls are pressed hotly against your ass and his seedy mushroomed tip is just grazing your womb. 
“just what i wanted to hear,” he purrs into the shell of your ear — nipping it tenderly. you blubber softly into the satin pillows, prepped with a fresh set of tears as you push back onto megumi to meet the push and pull of his dick into your tight, creamy sex. “you’ve always needed me, pretty thing. my precious baby sister, relyin’ on me for everything. even this.”
your entire body burns bright with desire for megumi, you’re surprised you’ve gone this long without him before today. maybe you’ve always needed to feel his sticky tip grind against your juicy walls or his hot breath fanning against your shoulders and neck. you’ve always needed your step brother to guide you in the right direction. you’ve always needed megumi.
“f-fuck, g-gumi!” 
fushiguro fucks you slow and softly, pouring all of his affections into you — letting it buzz in the sex scented air between your salt slicked bodies. his fingertips leave their paw prints along your tiger striped thighs and soft tummy, he’ll kiss them better later, but for now he just wants you to know how much he’s always needed you.  “oh i know pretty girl, i know.” comes megumi’s low, bristling simper — adding to the stacks of pleasure cementing together in your lower tummy. “you’re so good, taking me just right. i’ve always known you’d be good for me.” 
your back arches away from the molten centre of your step brother’s chest but he refuses to let you run from him — wrapping a strong arm around your middle to anchor you and your pussy down on his throbbing cock. “i never wanted to ruin you.” he drawls hungrily, but that doesn’t stop the salacious buck of his hips upwards and the way his hands traverse over each of your perfect imperfections. “but you’re such a sweet thing… you always have been. god, baby, you drive me crazy.” 
fumbling around on the bed, megumi gasps at the phone and hits record once more — propping the device up on the nightstand opposite you so that he can remain hands free. “this body, this princess cunt… the way you grip my hair—“ as if on cue, your fingers tighten at his dark roots and tug him down for a sloppy, spit swapping kiss. “everything about you, s’perfect.” 
the room spins with ecstasy and your pathetic screams die in your throat at the feeling of megumi’s abs contacting against your back, his cock hitting that spongy spot inside of you over and over again. you drip sweet nectar onto the sheets, his pelvis and his thighs — tainting him with your precious sin. everything burns with exertion and exhaustion, so you’re forced to slump against your big brother and rely on him to carry you to the high heavens of pleasure.
he doesn’t disappoint, cupping your swaying breasts as you jolt up the bed from the force of his pounding thrusts, flicking at your nipples while keeping himself tucked in your squishy insides. you’re pleasured from every possible angle and it’s all caught on grainy film for megumi to take to college when he leaves without you. 
“‘m so fucking happy… t-that our parents got divorced. s-so that i can…have you like this.” fushiguro tongues at the pulse point under your ear, giving you one hard thrust to emphasise the point, it makes you jump, pushing you that little bit closer to the edge. your step brother never stops pumping himself in and out of you, hardly giving you a second to breathe between sucking on your tongue and slapping a hand down on your slit. 
“aren’t you happy?” he goes on to ask, carving the shape of his dick into your raw sex. “take a deep breath for me, gorgeous.” 
megumi wraps a hand around your throat from behind, squeezing ever so slightly and your glistening doe eyes tear away from the camera to focus on him. you witness the stars align in his azure orbs, the adoration they hold for you and a cry-baby wail slips from between your cherry bitten lips in response. 
“look so pretty with my hand around your throat ‘n my cock in your pussy… look at that. it’s like your body was made for me.” he chimes up again, watching the drool deep from the corner of your mouth as it hangs open with dry moans, like a a cute puppy panting. “how lucky are we?”
“o-oh! gumi!” you sniff blearily, not caring that there isn’t enough air in your brain to think straight. you’re swallowing down his cock and he’s leaking fat droplets of precum against the ridges of your walls — only adding to your wetness. megumi can’t expect a single logical thought to escape you this way. “‘m s-so glad. s-so lucky! so happy! i-i love you.”
the stuttered admission brings out the worst in megumi, causing him to lose his shit. your panties are rubbing his shaft raw, your pussy’s so good that he feels like he’s fucking high, not to mention you sound so pretty he could die here and be the happiest man alive. a feral desire takes over your step brother, his snapping his hips into you so hard that your headboard repeatedly smashes against the wall.
your panties are completely soaked through at this point, equally as ruined as your cunt… but megumi doesn’t care. “love you too. my good girl, my good fucking girl.” he coos, his thrusts growing animalistic and erratic — your bodies dancing to the tune of desire as you chase release. “can you cum for me, pretty? wanna see it, bet you’re so gorgeous when you’re cumming for me little sis.” 
despite being fucked brainless, you still manage to do what you’re told — your hips back onto his from their own accord, puffy pussy locking down on megumi’s base to keep him inside. “i’m close… r-right there gumi!” you choke out.
“right here, baby?” is all he manages to respond with, moaning pornographically into your sweaty shoulder while he shifts the angle of his thrusts. “wanna feel you gush all fucking over me.” 
that’s all you need to hear before your toe curling orgasm comes crashing down on you like a large tidal wave. the knot in your tummy finally unravels and you break beneath the pressure of it all, waves of your juices splashing out onto the sheets and megumi’s pelvis — rewarding him for fucking you this good. you cum so hard that it’s enough to force megumi from your twitching hole, expelling a musky scent into the air.
“f-fucking shit, fuuuck me…” fushiguro stumbles off the edge not long after, using the seam of your panties to finish himself off while you twitch through the aftershocks of your high. he just barely makes it, fucking your underwear and nudging his sensitive cockhead against your abused mound until he’s filling the seat of your panties with fat globs of white hot seed. “jesus…’hmygod, baby. you’re such an angel...d-did so fucking well for me.” 
he peppers you with smooches until you’re calmed down enough to be rolled onto your back. megumi is careful to pull away from you, staying close while you sniffle and come back down to earth. he babies you throughout, lifting the rest of your dress over your head and waiting until you say he can move before grabbing you a spare shirt from your dresser.
“let me see you.” megumi whispers lovingly when he crawls back onto the bed to join you. he grabs his phone from the nightstand and ends its recording, pushing your thighs apart to snap pictures of your cum soaked undies and the thick white that clings to your fat pussy lips and clit. “perfect, you’re so perfect. 
“i am?” you whinge — camera shy. but you don’t tell him to stop, letting your older step brother rub his sensitive and overworked cock over your crotch, smearing the last evidence of your orgasms against you for a quick video. another one that’ll be added to his spank bank for later. “‘gumi…” you warn once you start to feel overstimulated.
he chuckles at how whiny you are, tugging your clean shirt over your head before he pulls you into his arms. “i got it, i’m sorry.” rocking you both back and forth, fushiguro kisses the crown of your head. “yanno… if you’re so serious about not joining me at college. i’ll try and convince your dad to let you stay in town. as long as you keep up your promise and try to start a business.” 
your heart skips a beat, and you cast a glance upwards at your step brother. “really?” 
“really. if it means that much to you.” 
sleep settles heavy in megumi’s bones and on his pretty face — one you didn’t realise you loved so much. “it does! thank you, ‘gumi,” you say quickly, pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw. “m-maybe you college boys aren’t so bad.” 
“oh come on now, didn’t me fucking you stupid literally just prove that?” 
“maybe.” 
“so you’ll come visit me at college then. since you like me so much.” fushiguro quips cheekily, narrowly missing your swat to his chest. 
you roll your eyes and try to unravel yourself from your step brother’s affectionate grip, but don’t hide your smile. “ugh! as if, don’t get ahead of yourself.” 
but teasing megumi further only gets you dragged back into the sheets — two sets of laughter echoing throughout the room in what appears to be another sibling fight. 
except this time, you’re not as clueless. 
you know that something like this, and with megumi, means something much, much more.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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satorusugurugurl · 29 days
Text
JJK Men: Finding Your Toys
Characters: Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, FAB!Reader
Word Count: 4,952
Warnings: Sex toys! Dirty talk, squirting, smut, videotaping, degrading, holy heck, it’s spicy
A/N: This had me feeling things; I loved writing this. Each one of these hit differently, in the best ways. 😏
MDNI!!!
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Geto Suguru:
“Suguru!” You called out from the kitchen, standing on a stepstool dusting the tops of your cabinets. “Can you do me a favor, please?”
Popping his head into the kitchen, Suguru stared at the curve of your ass peeking out from your shorts. “Anything for you.” He watched you stand higher, ass bouncing just a bit.
“Could you grab me the spring decorations? I put them on the bed.”
“On it.”
Ah, spring cleaning. A single day of the year, you deep cleaned your shared apartment. You were donating clothes and books, pretty much decluttering. Then you cleaned everything: floorboards, vents, every crevice. You always felt better after it was done. Plus, with Suguru helping you, you did it in half the time. All that was left was to put up the windchime and new throw pillows.
Then you both could relax.
Suguru was looking forward to a long shower and takeout food. Maybe if you weren’t too tired, he could have you for dessert. Before anything like that remotely happened, he needed to finish the task at hand. The bag was right where you told him it would be. Yanking it off, Suguru turned only to hear something hit the floor.
“Shit.” He cursed, watching your water bottle roll under the bed. Bending down, Suguru reached for the runaway water, only to feel the corner of an extended storage bin. With a tug, Suguru pulled the mysterious box out, his eyes widening as he stared at the transparent container.
Sex toys galore were inside. Glass dildos, clits suckers, vibrators, regular dildos. The sight nearly rocked Suguru's back as he opened the lid, glancing at the cleaned and organized toys. His cock throbbed painfully as he picked it up, putting it on the bed.
So this was what you got off with when he was on a mission. He hummed, picking up a vibrator and turning it over before grabbing a glass toy. It was long and had a large orb on the end. A g-spot toy. Did you use these to make yourself squirt? Have you squirted without him?
The first time Suguru made you squirt was when you both first started fooling around. His mouth was on your clit, fingers hammering against that spot until you screamed, soaking the sheets and his face. You freaked out at first, profusely apologizing. But your words were silent as Geto went feral, wanting to see you squirt again.
He didn't stop until you were nearly fucked out of your mind. All you could say was: “D-Didn't know I could squirt!”
“Suguru!” Your voice called out from the kitchen. “Did you find the bag?”
“Oooh, I found something alright.”
His tone had you turning your head towards his voice. “Oh? Was it the fairy lights? I thought I forgot to grab that bag at the store.” Your boyfriend hummed.
“I mean, a few of these light up.”
Okay, the man was definitely up to something. You finished up what you were doing before treading down the hall. As you turned the corner into the room, you froze like a deer in the headlights. Your toy bin was out, and Suguru was eagerly digging through it, a smug smile on his face.
“Ah!!” Bolting across the floor, you snatched the toys away, throwing them back inside before reaching for the lid.
Suguru chuckled, grabbing the lid from you and tossing it. “Oh no, you don't! We're not putting this away.” With your plan foiled, you held your arms out to block his view.
“No! It's embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing?” Looking at your boyfriend, your cheeks flushed as he pulled his sweats down an inch. He's showing you the bulge in his boxers. “It's fucking hot.”
The humiliation slowly began to fade, a fire replacing it. “Really?”
Suguru nodded while digging in the bin. “Yeah, I like seeing the stuff you get off with.” He pulled out your g-spot dildos and vibrator. “Trying to make yourself squirt?” The knowing smirk on his face left you a blushing mess as you glanced away, nodding in response. “Did you do it?” This time, you shook your head.
“I don't think I'm doing it right.”
You felt Suguru behind you before you heard him. “Oh? Maybe you should show me~?”
One heavy make-out session later, you sighed softly as you slowly thrust the glass toy in and out of your dripping pussy. Suguru was on his stomach between your legs, watching you like a hawk. The glass toy rubbed against the sweet spot inside of you perfectly. The sensation was almost too overwhelming.
“C-Can’t.” Your legs clenched together in an attempt to ease the throbbing.
“Yes, you can.” Hands grabbed your thighs, forcing them open. “Stop closing your legs; I can't see.”
With an almost pained whine, you kept thrusting the toy in and out of your cunt. It was tight, so tight, your walls were hugging the toy, making it difficult for you to thrust it in and out. You were getting so fed up with this. Glaring down between your legs, you chewed on your bottom lip. Every time you tried to make yourself squirt, this happened. You'd get tired and annoyed before tossing the toy to the side with an irritated growl.
Suguru was focusing less on your dripping sex and more on your face. You were frustrated, focusing too much on the task at hand. You were never going to cum like that. So he gently wrapped his hand around yours, helping you with the pacing of the thrusts. The warmth of his hand and the subtle change of pace had you tilting your head back.
“You need to relax,” Suguru whispered, pressing hot kisses against your thigh. “You’re too tense. Stop focusing so much on the mechanics of it and more on the sensation.”
Letting out a trembling exhale, you relaxed, focusing more on how the toy slid in and out of you. Frustrated groans turned into low whimpering as Suguru sucked at your skin. Fuck, this felt so good, like when Suguru would finger you. The familiar coil tightened in your abdomen. The same tightening you usually felt when you would squirt.
“Ah, ah fuck.” You arched your back off the bed, pussy throbbing around the toy. “Fuuuuck, Suguru~!”
“Yeah, feel good?” He asked, still gripping the toy. “you’re getting the hang of it. It would help if you did a little of this—” he bit his lip in concentration, curving it up more. When he did that, you saw the entire universe. A scream escaped you as the toy rubbed perfectly over your g-spot. “there it is; you just gotta curve it a bit.”
“Holy fuck! Holy fuck!” Your legs began trembling as they began to shut.
Suguru sat up, growling as he shifted his body, preventing your legs from closing completely. “I thought I told you to fuckin’ stop doing that.” All you did was whine in response. “Ah~ too fucked out of your mind to even notice? God, you're so fuckin’ cute.” The hand he had on top of yours set a fast pace. “You're almost there, don't stop~ good girl~ good fuckin girl~!” the sweet praises had you speeding your hand up, making your boyfriend chuckle in surprise. “Oh, Y/N, you want me to praise you more~? You get off on that?” When you whimpered, he cooed. “My pretty princess is doing such a good job fucking her pussy. Are you going to cum? Gonna cum for me, princess?” Your boyfriend's freehand began rubbing your clit.
“Y-Yes! Fuck ohhh fuck!” Tears formed in your eyes as Suguru grinned, letting go of your hand. Watching as you sped up, not needing his direction anymore. “I-I’m gonna, gonna cum!”
“That's it, squirt for me. Make a mess, princess. Ooh!” Suguru scoffed, sitting back as you convulsed, squirting all over the bed and him. His hand rubbed your clit, extending your orgasm, making you squirt even more. “Fuck~! Look at you, making a mess, you nasty slut.”
Suguru made sure to watch you. The way your body slowly came down, hips against the mattress as your eyes fluttered shut. The subtle way your hips jerked, trying to evade his hand, which was now drawing gentle circles around your clit.
You were so damn beautiful.
Hungry, starved eyes bore into yours, his chest heaving as you pulled the toy out. “S-Sugu?” Your timid voice didn't seem to break his trance. “Baby? You okay?” Instead of responding, Suguru answered by grabbing your hips and flipping you so your face was in your pillow. “Mmmph!”
“You did okay,” his voice was dark, gravely, “I'd give you a five out of ten.” All you could do was listen, tensing up when you felt the tip of the glass toy prodding your entrance. “But I think you need a demonstration.” You couldn't even respond as the toy was shoved back inside of you deeper than you could have managed on your own. “Maybe, just maybe, if you cum hard enough, I’ll fuck you.”
Gojo Satoru:
The smell of freshly baked cookies wafted from the oven as you pulled the hot tray out. The viral cinnamon roll cookies smelt as good as they looked. While placing the cookies on the cooling rack, you heard footsteps hurrying down the hall. Seemed as though Satoru’s nose was as keen as ever.
“Am I the best girlfriend ever or what?” You tossed the oven mitts on the counter with a fist pump. “Not only do I bake, but I suck co—” Turning on your heel, you were about to wink at your boyfriend, only to find him towering over you.
His face was flushed, and his smile was as wide as could be as he smirked. “When the hell did you get this?” Gojo dangled your pink, blue-tooth bullet vibrator in front of your face.
“Satoru!!!” You reached for the toy, only to have him yank it out of reach. “Give it back!!” Satoru shook his head, holding the toy above his head, making it impossible for you to reach it now. “Toruuu!!!”
Satoru was as excited as a child at Christmas. He was practically vibrating (not from the toy) with horny energy. What a fucking find! All you asked was for him to grab the blanket from the closet! When he pulled it out, the box to his new friend fell.
“The box said I can control it with an app?! An app on my phone?! Oh my god, this is great!” He promptly held the box with his other hand, reading its functions. “Long distance play, waterproof, and it syncs to music and sound?!” His white brows furrowed in disbelief as his grin widened. “Y/N, why didn't you tell me?!”
“Because it sucks.”
All of the excitement on Gojo’s face vanished. “Sucks? What do you mean it sucks?!” His cerulean eyes darted from the toy in his hand before focusing on you. The pout he was sporting was almost impressive.
“It sucks, Satoru.” Pushing past him, you headed for the couch. “I tried syncing it to my playlist. It didn’t get me all hot and bothered. I even tried using the sound function. The app syncs to the sounds of porn videos, or any sound in general, but they just.” You shrugged a shoulder, plopping down on the couch. “They were so phony that the vibrations were so weak. I hated it so much that I didn’t see the point in telling you about it.”
Something about what you had said had Gojo blinking in silence. “You synced it up to some random porn video online?”
“Yes, Toru, and like I just told you, it sucked.”
“Right, but you watched two rando’s do it?” Something in the tone of his voice triggered your sixth sense. The danger was approaching, and it was in the form of your very horny boyfriend.
“Y-Yeah?” What should have been a statement was more of a question as Satoru dangled the toy on his index finger with an almost sadistic smirk. “What are you getting at with this?”
”Ah, you see, dear Y/N, my sweet perverted girlfriend.”
”Hey!”
Gojo crouched, twirling the vibrator around his finger like his house keys. “The problem isn’t the toy.” His pink tongue darted out, wetting his bottom lip. “It’s the content you’re viewing. You need something more—personal.”
”Ah! Ah! Fuuuck! Fuck!”
The toy deep inside of you buzzed at an intense speed. “Holy shit!” You cried out, your hand squeezed Satoru’s cock tight.
“Take my fucking cock.” Satoru’s voice from your television was sultry while the Satoru beside you wheezed out a laugh.
“Fuck, easy baby, you’ll break my dick.” Peeling your eyes away from the television screen, you tilted your head back against the couch, your Y/E/C eyes focusing on Satoru’s throbbing cock. “See, I told you it was the content and not the toy.”
He was right about that. When he suggested you put on the porno’s the two of you made together, you didn’t have high hopes. But holy fuck were you wrong. Your moans, Satoru’s dirty words, god it god it got you going, along the vibrator was buzzing like mad inside of you. Firmly pressing against your g-spot, teasing it as you watched Gojo fuck you into the mattress.
Satoru decided to join you for ‘research,’ wanting to see for himself that the toy sucked, as you said it did. Little did he know that you were going to start stroking him as you both watched yourselves on the screen. He rocked his head back as your thumb rubbed gently circled over his slit.
“Y/N fuck, playing with my pre like that.” his hand slid over, rubbing circles over your clit that had you jolting. “You're so pretty when you're feeling good. Such a good girl~”
His voice next to you was a sharp contrast to the Gojo on the television. He had the camera turned to his face. He was sweaty, biting his lip as he slapped your ass hard in the video. “You're such a nasty girl~! God fuck, grinding up against me on the dance floor, telling me you were soaking wet in the car.” Another sharp slap had both of you in the video and on the couch whining. “My dirty fucking slut, couldn't wait to get dicked down, could ya’?” The vibrator buzzed louder, your toes curling as you watched the screen. Slapping skin, whines, and guttural moans had your vibrator buzzing like a beehive.
“Hey, look at me~” Turning to look at Satoru was so hard from how hard you were jerking. “You're so beautiful~ do you like your toy now? You love it?” Please say you do, please, please, please. Satoru begged in his mind as you jerked his cock harder. If you liked it, it would make phone sex a million times better.
“Toru, Toru, yes, feels good~ love it~!” Fuck you were close. Your moans were beginning to meld in with your moans from the video. Louder, desperate, and ducking porn worthy. “Toru wanna cum, wanna cum with y-you!” Satoru gritted his teeth, eyes darting to his cock, that you were jerking off like a crazed woman.
“Yeah, ah, pretty girl, I’m close~ cum with me, okay? Be a good girl and cum~” The Satoru on the television snarled as he came, while your
Satoru whimpered, thrusting into your clenched hand until ropes of hot sticky cum painted your hard and his clenching ab’s. “Cumming, of fuck yes, I’m cummin’!” He cried out in time with his television persona.
It was the combination of the vibrations, Satoru’s fast circles over your clit, and watching yourselves cum that had you gushing around your new favorite toy. You screamed, eyes rolling back into your head. You came all over the couch. Fuck when was the last time you came that hard? It was probably when you and Satoru made the video you were viewing.
“So,” Satoru asked between pants, “does the t-toy still suck?”
You didn't answer his question. You instead grabbed your phone with shaking hands, typing on the screen. Satoru was about to ask what you were doing when a little chime went off. You tossed your phone to the side before gently pulling the toy out of you.
“Aw, done already?” Satoru’s cocky voice cut off as you straddled his hips. “Y-Y/N?” You cupped his face, turning it to the side, allowing you to kiss down his neck. “Fuuuck baby.”
“Mm,” Kiss after kiss trailed down his neck, “no, I love it~ I love it so much I just bought you the matching fleshlight.”
Satoru’s large hands gripped your hips, massaging them. “Oh really?” He gasped out as you sucked and bit the crook of his neck, marking his ivory skin. “A-Are you gonna make me watch the same video when it gets here?”
“Oooh, no.” Satoru watched as you grabbed his phone, propping it against the lamp beside him. “We're making a new video,” Satoru whines louder, wincing as you bite him harder. “Oooh, good boy~ Toru~ be extra loud for us~ that way, the vibrations are super strong.”
Nanami Kento:
The second the elevator door opened, Nanmi bolted out, running towards your shared apartment. He was nearly breathless from all of the running he had done in an attempt to get home as fast as he possibly could. Fuck, if only he could teleport like Gojo, maybe his heart wouldn’t be pounding inside of his ears in fear and panic.
He had been meeting with Yaga at the school when his phone went off, alerting him of your text. You were constantly sending messages throughout the day. Asking how he was doing, what he would like for dinner, or if he needed anything while you were out shopping. He did not feel like he deserved to have someone like you in his life.
His blood ran cold when he read the screen, his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach.
Y/N: I need your help; please come home ASAP!
The second those words processed through his mind, he was moving. Telling Yaga there was an emergency and he needed to hurry home. Every single terrible thought rushed through his mind at once. Was there a cursed spirit chasing you? Did one of the students get hurt? Were you hurt? He needed answers to the questions that were on a constant loop in his mind.
“Y/N!?” Nanami yelled out as he entered the apartment, slamming the door behind him. “Y/N?!” No traces of cursed energy, a sign of intrusion, or blood was in sight.
”I-I’m in the bedroom, Kento.” Immediately, Nanami knew something was off with your voice. It was far too timid.
When he walked into the room, he expected to find something terrible awaiting him. Much to his relief, you were laying in bed, a blanket covering your lower body propped up against your pillows. That’s how he had left you this morning and countless other times. Either you received some bad news from your family, or there was something his observant eyes were missing.
”What happened? Are you okay? What’s the emergency?”
Your face twisted from unreadable to one to a pained one as you shifted slightly. Anyone else would have missed it, but Nanami knew everything about you. He moved so fast you gasped as he crawled on the bed, looking you over for injuries.
“What's going on?” the stern tone of his voice made this ten times more embarrassing.
You brought your hands to your face, rubbing them gently as you tried to find your words. “I-I uhm—” Peeking through your fingers, you found Nanami staring at you with that serious look. “It, uhm, it's stuck.” Could this day get any worse? God fuck, this was mortifying.
“Stuck? What's stuck, Y/N?”
“M-My toy.”
“Toy?”
Not wanting to get into the details of your activities, you sighed, slowly pulling the blanket off. Laying on the bed beside you was a bottle of lube, and as you spread your legs, Nanami hissed at the sight. A toy, one he had never seen before, was lodged inside of you. It was thick; it made your poor pussy throbbed and twitched around it. Your wet slick glistened around it.
Nanami sighed, looking away from you, trying to keep some composure. Fuck you looked so hot, but a twinge of insecurity hit him in the chest. Nanami loved using your toys on you. He didn’t see them as competition; they were more like allies. He’d do anything, use anything to make you feel good. You both were very good at communicating your needs and wants with each other. If you were horny, all you needed to do was ask him.
Even if you wanted to masturbate, he had no issue with that at all! He encouraged it. Nanami Kento was not one of those men who saw you pleasuring yourself as a hit to his ego. He bought you a lot of the toys you shared. Kento wanted you to be satisfied and happy. That’s all his heart desired.
But something about this stung. It wasn’t because he was hurt that you didn't ask for help. You were not required to tell him if you were horny or needed help. Nor was it the fact that you were getting off on your own. What it was was the fact you were in pain. You had hurt yourself. That’s what stung me the most.
“Kento?” The stoic look on his face said everything without the use of words. “Baby, look, I just, I—!”
Kento said nothing as he stood up, walking to the dresser. He shrugged out of his suit jacket; his suspenders stretched as he took his watch off before rolling the sleeves of his blue dress shirt up to his elbows. Nanami, not saying anything was more stressful than him yelling at you. The room was too tense; it was thick and suffocating as Nanami turned around, getting on the bed.
His hands slowly slid up your thighs, spreading them apart. “Let’s get this out of you.” He nearly whispered before glancing into your Y/E/C eyes. “Ready?” You nodded, giving him the approval to proceed. His hands gently grabbed the base of the toy, tugging it.
“O-Ow.” You winced, watching him closely.
Nanami clenched his jaw at your pained whine. “Did you not use enough lube?” Gently, he twisted the toy before pushing it back into you.
“Ah~!” A loud moan escaped you, hands covering your eyes. “N-No, I d-don’t fuck, ah fuck, c-could you maybe not push it back in?”
A blonde eyebrow cocked at your request. “Do you want this stuck inside forever?”
“No. I’m sorry; I’ll shut up. Fuck this is embarrassing.”
“Mm.” Nanami sat up on his knees, looking over you. “Keep your legs open.” You pouted, doing as he said, while he twisted the toy inside of you, watching your reactions closely. You withered under him, pleasure starting to replace the pain. “You should have known better, or you could have warmed yourself up a little more.” He chastised, twisting and pulling at the snug toy again.
Your hands gripped the sheets, fisting the fabric. “N-Nanami, please don’t scold me.” You whimpered, cheeks flushing under his gaze. “J-Just ah, fuck, take it out.” From the mixture of embarrassment and lust, your voice had a tone; one Nanami didn’t care for.
He clenched his jaw tight. “It’s not coming out because you pushed it too far in! So now I have to work it out!”
You whined louder; this was not the way you thought this would play out. You bought this toy for both of you. “Oh my god! Just fuckin yank it out! This is so fucking embarrassing! I wanna die right now.” You laid your elbow over your eye, hiding your teary gaze from him.
“I’m your boyfriend. Why is this embarrassing?!” It wasn’t often that Nanami snapped at you, but your attitude was getting under his skin.
“Because!! I ruined the surprise!!” You removed your arm, showing him your teary gaze. Nanami’s eyes went wide. “T-This is the custom toy we made. It was delivered this morning, and I freaked seeing how big it was. I wanted to see if it would fit because I didn’t want to ruin tonight. But I ended up ruining it anyway.”
Honey-brown eyes darted towards the toy. Kenton wasn’t able to tell from the base. But upon further inspection, he recognized the custom marble coloring of blue and yellow the two of you picked out when you designed it. The one that he had all added ridges and bumps, especially for your pleasure. You were doing a test drive for him. All for him.
“Y/N, love,” he smiled softly, “you didn’t need to do this. You wouldn’t have messed anything up. We could have taken it slow. Just because it got here didn’t mean I would want to use it. I would've helped ease you into it. Besides, you didn’t ruin anything.”
You were wiping at blubbering tears, only managing to smile and nod in agreement. It was so relieving to know you didn’t ruin the experience. Things would be perfect if this toy weren’t stuck inside of your pussy.
Nanami leaned down, pressing his lips against yours, kissing you deeply. “Mm Y/N~” Feeling his lips against you had you moaning as you kissed him back. Nanami pulled back, his cock throbbing in his pants. “Alright, let’s get this toy out of you. But I need you to put in some effort.” You hummed, nodding eagerly.
“Okay, how can I help?”
“Be good,” Nanami commanded before fucking the toy into you.
You threw your head back, turning it from side to side as the custom ridges and bumps hit your g-spot perfectly, just how Nanami had designed it. Your toes curled, thighs shaking as you gasped out cries of pleasure. Nanami smirked, listening to the squelching sounds of your pussy.
“Fuck, you like that? Your pretty cunt sounds like she loves it~.”
“Ah, fuck, yes!! Nnngh!” You gripped your pillow, staring at him through your lashes. “B-But I want you more~! Please, I want to feel you.”
“Yeah, you do?” His voice was full of faux curiosity. “But Y/N, you were bad.” His eyes were dark as he twisted the toy he fucked in in and out of you. “You got yourself into a situation, didn’t you? One that you had to call me to come fix.”
Your eyes were wide, pupils dilated, fixed on him. Fucking hell, he looked so fucking hot. Eyes dark, eyes focused on the toy he customized for you. You needed him inside of you. You needed him to be the one rearranging your guts. Slowly, you slid your foot over, rubbing your foot over the hard bulge straining in his dress pants. The contact had him hunching over, jaw-dropping as he groaned.
“Please, Ken~ I need you. I need you so bad.”
He was breathing heavily, glaring down at you. “Fine.” He yanked the toy out, chuckling at the gasp you let out as the giant toy popped out of your cunt. “Do you need me?” His hands quickly moved, undoing his belt before tugging them down as he slotted between your thighs.
“Yes Kento, I need yo—oooh!!!” Nanami’s cock slammed into you before you finished your plea.
“You feel so fucking good.” Kento tilted his head back, hips slamming into you at a pace that had you seeing stars. The veins in his neck popped out as he gritted his teeth. “Holy fuck, your cunt is so wet! You were feeling it, weren't you?”
You weren’t going to last. You were already so close. Nanami wasn’t doing any better himself. His cock throbbed deep inside of you as he set a brutal pace. Slamming in and out, fucking you as deep as he could. The tip of his cock slammed against your cervix. It was a painful pleasure that had your mouth dropping in an ‘O’ shape. God, you might die. This was too good.
Nanami grabbed your face, jerking your head to look at him. “You look at me when you cum, you fucking hear me?” His mouth was on yours, tongue sliding against yours, capturing every whine and moan you made as his cock slammed into every sweet spot.
As much as you wanted to close your eyes, you obeyed Nanami’s instructions. Y/E/C on his as you screamed into his mouth. You came, squirting, whining, and crying. Nanami pulled back, face flushed as he growled like a fucking incubus. Feeding off of you, your orgasm, every part of you. Feeling you cum, seeing that fucked out expression plastered across your flushed face. It had Nanami cumming so hard. His balls clenched as he emptied his seed inside of you, painting your walls.
“Fuuuck, Y/N, fuuuck.” His hips slowed, his hands gently massaging your hips as he laid down with you. His arms wrapped around you, spooning you close. “I love you, god, you’re perfect.”
Breathing heavily, you giggled, relaxing in his arms. “I-I love you too.” You lazily smiled as you ran your fingers over his forearms, tracing shapes. “Thanks for saving me, Kento.”
His chest vibrated with a rich chuckle, lips grazing your neck. “Anything for you my love.” His lips pressed against your cheek, and you knew he meant every word.
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ddejavvu · 9 months
Note
'oh, you LOVE me!' - send me a request for a baby blurb! give me a character, and a plotline, and i'll write you a little fanfiction :)
The team visiting Spencer for one reason or another on their day off & reader opens the door (maybe even wearing one of Spence's shirts) and that's how they all find out Spencer is in a relationship?
The doorbell rings, and even if Spencer weren't hobbling around on crutches with a rolled ankle, you'd have bolted to answer the door. You've got new shoes coming, a treat from your boyfriend himself, and they're set to arrive today before 9PM. It's 6, and you're eager to finally put them on.
However, it's not the mailman at the door, not unless the US Postal Service has gotten a huge budget increase. The man that stands at the door is dressed in a fine suit, something you're sure cost more than double what your shoes had, and he seems mildly surprised to see you behind the door.
There's a posse of people behind him, and you wonder if this is some sort of special delivery system. But no one seems to have your package, and you tilt your head at an angle, "Can I help you?"
His eyes narrow infinitesimally, curiously, "Yes, we're here to see Dr. Spencer Reid," The man speaks up, his voice deep and smooth, "Did we have the wrong address?"
"No- No! Hotch," Spencer shouts from his place on the couch, and you hear the clatter of crutches, "Hotch, wait!"
"Spencer," You gush, ditching the door to make sure he doesn't tip himself over in his sudden pursuit of his callers, "Spence, go slow, you'll trip."
"I'm fine," He pants, moving as fast as he can to the door, his cheeks unusually rosy, "Uh, what- what do you guys need?"
Upon sighting him, the rest of the people behind the door exchange glances with each other, like they hadn't quite believed just his voice. You're hovering awkwardly behind Spencer now, looking up at your houseguests curiously, and waiting for them to speak.
"We brought you cookies," A blonde woman behind the man in the suit pipes up, hands decked out in jewelry as she brandishes a ziploc bag of treats, "And- and Morgan has medical tape he thinks you should use on your ankle, and JJ made a casserole, and we just wanted to make sure you were okay."
"I was going to offer to hire you a live-in nurse," An older man pipes up from the back, a suit jacket draped over his shoulders, glancing back at you with a small smirk, "But I'm not sure that's necessary."
"Thank you for the stuff." Spencer reaches out for the bag, keeping his crutch stabilized beneath his shoulder, "Y/N, can you- the casserole, um-"
"I got it," You jump forward to help, taking a dish from another blonde woman standing beside the first. The bottom is warmed, and she smiles kindly at you as she passes it off, nodding at your thnaks.
"Here's the tape," A man pipes up, muscles straining the t-shirt he's wearing as he sets a roll of medtape over the foil on the casserole. He grins at you, and the expression shifts more into a teasing one when he speaks to Spencer, "Sorry for interrupting."
"Oh, you weren't interrupting," You shake your head, "Are you- you're Spencer's coworkers, right?"
At their round of nods, you readjust your grip on the casserole, "Would you want to come eat with us? We could-"
"Our apartment is messy," Spencer cuts you off, hand already on the door to shut it on their shit-eating grins, "Thanks for the food, sorry you can't stay. See you tomorrow."
He shuts the door without offering them another word, and you gasp, "Spencer! That's rude, open the door!"
"They are relentless," Spencer locks it, heading towards you and backing you against the kitchen counter where you set the casserole, "If you let them in, they'll tease us both until our ears bleed, angel. They're not offended, and you can meet them some other time," He promises, kissing your forehead where you stand frowning at him, "When we're at someone else's house, and my ankle is healed so that we can run to the car and leave early when they lay into us."
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kitscutie · 5 months
Text
snow and roses: part II (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)
Tumblr media
pairing: coriolanus snow x reader
warnings: none except the nature of the Hunger Games franchise! later on in the series there will be hints to dark!coriolanus snow and lots of angst so be prepared!
summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.
a/n: part two is here! hope you enjoy, remember requests are open and there are more parts to come :) p.s - all of the love on part one means the world!
word count: 2.3k
find part one here!
join my taglist here!
Over the past eighteen years you couldn't picture a single day you and Coriolanus hadn't spent together. Birthdays, school days, even throughout the war, you spent time together.
Today was different. He hadn't met you this morning and you couldn't help but miss his presence. His character enveloped a room, always making it clear he was there without really having to say a word. You found it comforting, others found it threatening.
The Tributes arrived early this morning and it was something you had dreaded, very soon you would actually have to meet Wovey. Mentor her, care for her, and it riddled you with guilt knowing that it was all a challenge. Her life was a challenge to you.
Coryo's presence could've softened that burden and yet, he wasn't here. No warning no explanation he just didn't show.
"Where's Snow?" Asked Arachne as you all stood outside your classroom at the Academy, preparing for yet another lecture from Casca.
"I wouldn't know." You shrugged, secretly seething at your boyfriends disregard to tell you where he was going before he disappeared.
"Oh please. You two are practically attached at the hip." Scoffed Festus. Fixing his hair in a small compact mirror which he carried around in his bag.
"I heard he's with his songbird." Mock sang Felix. Knowing it would most likely piss you off to the high heavens.
"And where did you hear that, Felix?" You asked, tilting your head in questions, eyebrows furrowed. While Felix was a tease he was not a liar.
"Lucky's newest interview. He was in the zoo with the tributes, I mean it was almost comedic. But, I've got to say the most interesting part was when they held hands." He said. You couldn't hide the anger on your face no matter how hard you tried and it was only made worse when you spotted Sejanus' sympathetic glance from over his shoulder.
"Well, he is very motivated to win the Prize I suppose." You murmured, now embarrassed, even if they weren't aware he was your boyfriend he was supposed to be your closest ally and here he was prancing around with his new decoration.
Much to your pleasure the large wooden door swung open, everybody filing into the room and taking their assigned seats, the one next to yours empty.
His seat.
Finally, minutes later he entered looking rather sheepish. If he was ashamed you were glad, he should be.
"Your little excursion is in violation of about five Academy rules Mr Snow." Spoke Casca. Deep down you were pleased that he had broken rules, pleading in your mind that this would prevent any further ventures. "Amongst them, endangering a Capitol student."
"Who?" He asked, stopping in his tracks as though he was insulted by the accusation.
"You. I'm moving for the Game makers to disqualify you as a mentor immediately." Casca answered. Guiltily you were happy, you just hoped your face didn't show it as Coriolanus sat down next to you.
"You said that we had to get our tributes to perform, not that we had to stay away." He said leaning against the banister of your seats.
"I don't believe holding their hands was in that agreement." You snarled from behind him and you immediately regretted it as he turned to you, hurt that you weren't defending him.
"Right you are Miss L/N." Casca replied.
"Holding her hand, introducing her to people. You make it look as if were one in the same as those animas." Arachne added. You didn't agree with that, they were very much the same as us but his effort to care for her wounded you internally.
"Coriolanus didn't show those people anything they didn't already know. That the tributes are human beings. Just like us. That's why nobody wants to watch the Games, because people know deep down, that winning a war ten years ago doesn't justify starving peoples children." Sejanus added, yet you couldn't help but feel like Coriolanus didn't truly agree, he just wanted to be let loose for his wrong doings.
"Snow fell. Down in the cage, it fell down in the cage but it landed-" Doctor Gaul appeared, frightening you and many others. She had an atmosphere similar to Coriolanus, threatening and brazen. Maybe that should've scared you more than any District Twelve girl, yet it didn't.
"On stage." Snow finished her riddle without hesitation.
"You're good at games. Maybe one day you'll be a Game maker like me." She grinned evilly. You didn't miss Coriolanus' smile when hearing this and something deep within you stirred.
"Only if the games continue at all." Casca replied.
"Oh they'll continue, with performances like young Mr Snow in that zoo. In fact I came to ask your star Mentor a question. What are the Hunger Games for?" She said confidently.
"They're to punish the Districts for their uprising. To commemorate the end of the war." Coriolanus answered thou hit felt scripted and to some extent it was. That very answer was drilled into your heads from the moment you entered the Academy.
Sejanus began to discredit the Games, calling them what they are. Cruel. Doctor Gaul didn't like that.
"Perhaps the Capitol students are ill suited to be mentoring tributes, perhaps the Games time has passed." Casca said and something about it told you he was on Sejanus' side, that he didn't agree with the very games he created.
"Dean Highbottom is wrong. My classmates too. Maybe Sejanus is onto something, maybe we should be viewing those tributes as human beings." Coriolanus spoke and you tugged at his shirt for him to sit down, to stop defending this inhumane act but he slapped your hand away. "I mean you saw those kids in the zoo, they just wanted to get to know Lucy Gray. If we need people to watch we should be letting them get closer to the tributes before the games. Make the stakes personal." You felt embarrassed by his every word. Embarrassed by his obsession with Lucy Gray and embarrassed that he believed in these games.
"Who will watch the games if they care what happens to the tributes?" Asked Doctor Gaul and even to you, the answer was obvious. Everyone.
"Everyone." Answered Snow, predictable. "If they thought the tribute they cared about had a chance of winning, people need someone to root for and against. We need them to invest. If we bend a few Capitol laws, we could even have them place bets." He continued his proposal.
"You forget you're talking about real people Coriolanus, not just characters in your wider game." You said, eyes cold as he once again turned to you seeming betrayed, you no longer cared.
"Look I know Lucy Gray may not win in the arena but if you give her a chance, I would bet the Plinth Prize that she can win peoples attention." He ignored you, instead once again talking about Lucy. You felt sick by his obsession, betrayed. How long had you been the one to care for him, to root for him and here he was digging a dagger in your heart.
"I would like you to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight Mr Snow." Doctor Gaul stated. "Perhaps your classmate can help you?" She smirked towards you in question.
You shook your head while keeping your eyes trained on the front of the room, you refused to be apart of his play for Lucy Gray's victory.
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You sat alone at lunch, thinking. What was going on between him and that girl and why was he suddenly the Games biggest supporter. You understood the Plinth Prize meant a lot to him. That it would open doors but this was a step too far.
"Y/N, a pleasure." A voice you knew all too well said as it took the seat across from you.
"Coriolanus." You answered bluntly before taking another bite of your sandwich. He could tell something was off from the moment you used his full name, usually calling him Coryo.
"What was that little show back there, hm?" He asked, blue eyes a weapon as he glared at you. Something you had never been on the receiving end of before.
"I could ask you the same thing." You replied, putting your food down to glare back.
"It's a competition, Y/N. One which could change my life, I know you don't have to worry about winning but this means everything to me. You know that. I know the games are animalistic but they'll go on either way-." He defended though you cut him off.
"That's what you think I'm upset about?" You said, exaggerating the 'that's'.
"It's not?" He asked, now curious.
"I don't know, Coriolanus maybe I'm upset about you being obsessed with Lucy Gray. I mean, she's all you've spoken about since the Reaping, you held her hand! Risked your life for her!" You exclaimed in angry, drawing attention to your table.
"Oh what, so your jealous?" He smirked, clearly amused by your outrage.
"Jealous does little to describe what I am feeling, Snow. This is another level. When will you realise that that girl is using you, just as you are using her. Nothing more nothing less. I however am still here, I have been there for years, for you!" You shouted once more and he grew agitated as the room stared, grabbing your wrist with unnecessary aggression to pull your face down to this.
"Don't make a scene Y/N. You're acting like a little girl." He gritted out through his teeth.
"Fuck you, Coriolanus Snow." You replied equally quiet and with menace laced in your words. You saw his face change, as if the anger once there was replaced by a mask of sympathy. It felt ingenuine.
"Come on, Y/N. You know I love you right? I have for how long now, years." He said with kind eyes.
"Don't kid yourself." You scoffed. Though his face stayed the same his grip on your wrist tightened, leaving pink indentations.
"I love you, Y/N. Okay? Not Lucy Gray. She's my tribute just like you said, nothing more nothing less." He once again reassured, never giving up his hold.
Finally the fire in your heart gave out to him and his stupid Snow charm. It never failed to make you swoon and hearing those three words, ones you gave to each other not very often, you just wished to be in his arms.
"Okay." You retreated.
"Okay and?" He asked.
"I love you too." You answered, relieved when he let your wrist go, you were quick to move it below the table, scared to see what he had done to your wrist.
"Good. Now come on, I'm going to give some food to Lucy Gray, strengthen her, I assume you would like to meet Wovey." He said, getting up from his chair. You didn't want to meet Wovey, not really, scared to look her in the eyes. You did however want to meet his pretty little Songbird.
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You walked together, hand in hand towards the zoo. He was back to his caring self after the flash of rage you previously saw. It wasn't the first time that side of him had flashed and you knew it wouldn't be the last but moments like these made it all worth it.
Your relationship was secret, but you felt no need to hide it anymore, now determined to show he was yours. Show everyone.
At first you stuck by his side, even when he spoke to Lucy Gray and you felt yourself flinch as she rushed over.
"That for us?" She asked as he held food out to her. Watching as she gave some to her fellow District Twelve Tribute, Jessup. "And who might this be?" She asked, eyeing up your joint hands.
"Wovey's mentor." He answered, without a second thought. Though when you squeezed his hand, his answer changed. "My girlfriend, I mean. Y/N L/N."
"Well Miss L/N, you sure do have the cream of the crop here with Mr Snow. He's a lovely young man." She smiled at you, you couldn't tell if it was your own paranoia telling you it was ingenuine or if she really didn't feel happy for you.
"Oh, and don't I know it." You smiled back. "You've equally had such luck I must say. He's a fine mentor." You added, patting his chest as you boosted his ego.
"Well, thank you." He said, kissing your forehead. "But uh, could you give me and Lucy Gray a moment, Mentor to Tribute?" He asked and that once burnt out flame of jealousy flickered within you as you left to speak to Wovey. You watched as they now leant against the fence to talk, lips inches away, crouched together.
Wovey was a sweet young girl, grateful as you gave her food and she shared it with Bobbin who she had been sat with, you didn't mind her sharing seeing as some Mentors has made little effort to offer any help.
You patted her shoulder through the fence, promising your support to help her reach the end of the games though it seemed she didn't care about winning and you admired her bravery.
A scream cut said conversation short as you looked to see Arachne's neck being stabbed with a smashed glass bottle. Play stupid games win stupid prizes.
You and Coriolanus both rushed over. Even if she was mean and bitchy she was your friend for the last five years and you had grown fond of the girl.
You whispered reassurances as she cried, placing pressure on her neck until you were literally dragged off of her by Peacekeepers, watching as her final breath left her body.
"No, no, no." You whispered with glassy eyes as her body became smaller and smaller on the ground - until it was too far into the distance to see.
It was clear the games had officially begun, and the tributes were winning.
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fictionalmenmakemecry · 3 months
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Pretty Little Outfit
Characters: Carmy Berzatto x reader(fem!)
Summary: With a new job in your grasp, you decide it's time for some new work outfits. Carmy realizes that he can't get over a new skirt that you bought, only to find out you've unlocked a new kink of his.
Warnings: SMUT (fem oral), cursing, masturbation, hair pulling.
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A/N: WOOOOO seeing him in the CK ad only feeds the hunger I have for him. Lord have mercy.. This man has too much of a grip on me. Let's say Carmy isn't the greatest at oral first but with a lot of practice (that I'm not against) he would have me in a chokehold. Just one night. That's all I'm asking.
Anyway.. my rant is done!
Enjoy :)
"I look ridiculous" you huffed, looking at yourself in the mirror. You self-consciously pulled at the pencil skirt that was clinging your curves.
You just got a new job and it was in the contract that formal office wear was expected. When you went into the office for the interview, you noticed no one was wearing jeans and sweaters. It was all slacks, skirts and blazers.
You had spent the day frantically running store to store trying to make a new closet for the job that you gladly accepted the previous day.
You started Monday, and you were petrified. You had experience, but you never were in such a high-end environment which you felt also had very high expectations of their employees.
You cursed to yourself as you adjusted the new bra you also bought. It was uncomfortable and tight as hell.
"Fuck" You cursed, feeling panic set in.
You turned around analyzing your clothes to realise that from the back of your white shirt, you could see your bra straps clearly. The one decent shirt you felt somewhat comfortable and it was see through.
You groaned, bringing your hands to your face. Usually, you didn't give a shit but you had a feeling HR wouldn't feel the same.
You took a deep breath in and stood up straight, looking back into the mirror.
"Good morning," you smiled brightly, pretending to lean into a handshake towards the mirror. You were trying to imagine yourself in these clothes in an unknown environment. The more you looked at yourself, the more you started to overthink.
His eyes were on you through the gap on the ajar door. His stare traveled the length of your body and paused at your hips, shifting to your ass. He bit his lip, trying to hold back any audible moan he felt climb up through his throat.
Carmy rarely ever saw you in skirts. He didn't think he had a thing for them but when he unexpectedly came home to see you in the bedroom trying on some clothes he couldn't take his eyes away.
You didn't know he was home. He felt bad spying on you, but he couldn't pull himself away.
Carmy leaned against the door frame, being careful not to make the wood creak. He watched as you bend over to grab something from the clothes bag. His eyes fell on your cleave, which showed through the reflection of the mirror. Your soft plump breasts pressing against the shirt.
He swallowed, feeling his crotch getting tighter and tighter. The material straining against his growing dick.
The thoughts that spun in his head, with your legs up on his shoulder, the skirt riding up as he drilled into you. His eyes darkened, imagining you all roughed up in your office wear. Make up smudged, skirt rolled up, shirt wrinkled. Your pretty little outfit completely fucked in. Tainted. Corrupted.
He shook his head softly, trying to clear his mind. He needed to pull himself together before he completely unraveled at the door.
You heard a gentle knock on the door. You saw Carmy enter in while looking at the mirror.
"Hi babe" you greeted, giving a soft smile.
You turned around to see his eyes locked on your body. He stood there in a white t-shirt and jeans with his arms above his head, and his mouth scrunched up like he was trying to hold himself back.
"What ya think?" You did a spin, feeling his stare.
The more he stared, the shyier you got.
"Uh y-you look unbelievable," He stuttered, raising his eyebrows.
"I don't know.. I think the skirt is too tight. I can barely walk in it"
You turned back around, showing him the back of it. To which he brought his hand to his face, trying to hide the fact he was forcefully biting his lip. Your eyes flickered to him, and in that moment, you saw the haze in his eyes.
A small smirk crept up on your face.
Your hands ran over your thighs, flattening out any wrinkles in the skirt and seeing your hands travel, wanted Carmy's hands to be there even more.
You continued to look in the mirror briefly, bringing your flirtatious stare back to him through the mirror.
"What do you think about my hair up?" You gather the ends of your hair loosely, holding it there with one hand while looking at him teasingly.
He licked his dry lips and gazed at your neck. He took a couple of steps forward, getting closer behind you. You knew you had him.
You would do it every time you were on top. As you would grind on him, you would bring your hair up the same way. It would only make he want to flip you over and get to that one weak spot you had. The one angle he knew made your shake in complete pleasure. He would feel you milk him, and he would lose it.
With that thought vivid in his head, he leans down and kisses your exposed neck gently. You felt his soft lips pressed against your hot skin.
He placed his hands on your hips and moved them down your sides while you both watched him make his way to your ass.
You let out a light gasp, feeling his grip get tighter.
"Jesus- feel what you're doing to me" He whispered in your ear. You felt goosebumps raise on the back of your neck.
He leaned in closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You felt his stiffened dick pressed against your ass. You could feel everything in this tight skirt. His stare was dripping with lust, just want your body rubbing up against his.
"Is this a new bra?" He asked flirtatiously
His hands bring your focus up to your chest, where you watch him lightly trace his finger on top of your cup.
"Mmm hmmm" you hummed, feeling like putty in his grasp.
"Can I get a better look?" He whispered, side eyeing you in the mirror.
You nodded, angling your head to the side as he kissed you a few more times down the neck. He started to unbuttoned one button after another, starting from the bottom, making his way up. With the last button popping open, the shirt gave a peek to your new bra you were wearing. The tip of his fingers gently pulled the shirt away from you, giving him full view from the mirrors reflection.
A small croak escaped his throat, and you heard him swallow, trying to hide it.
He brought his hand up to your new bra and massaged your breast while he pulled his stare up to your eyes. He watched as yours glazed over. He continued to watch you crumble in front of him. He felt you push your ass out, asking him to grind up against you more.
"Carmy... my new clothes.." You whined, feeling yourself get more lost as he felt more of you.
"Keep the skirt on" He ordered, spinning you around and bringing his hands to your face.
"But-"
"But nothing, I'll buy you a new outfit, but.. keep it on," His stare darkened as he played with your lips.
He leaned down, kissing your neck all the way down your chest. He gave wet open kisses to the top of your breasts, massaging them with both hands. You looked down and watched his curls move as he made his way further down. You felt him hike up your skirt, giving him more access to the heat between your legs.
His fingers lightly traveled up the inside of your thighs until he felt a moist patch.
"Fuck, you're all ready for me" He moaned lightly, kissing your covered pussy.
You felt his fingers move your underwear to the side, making them slick with your arousal as he played with your folds. He focused on your clit lightly making you fall into him a little, leaning on his shoulder from the welcomed pressure of his fingers.
He smirked to himself, looking up at you as he worked his fingers back and slowly slipped them in with ease. One finger teasingly first, but he could feel your hunger for the second. With ease, he added another finger.
"Oh shit," you gasped, spreading your legs more trying to hold yourself up.
"Mhmm, good girl," he praised, gently pumping his fingers out of you.
One of your hands went to his hair, and you placed the other one flat against the wall.
Your breath only got more and more shakey. You looked down and watched him bringing his mouth your clit. The sole sight made you pulse. You felt his soft lips pressed against wet ones. His relaxed tongue licking your sensitive bud. Your whole body quivered underneath his tender touch.
You felt yourself building, the pleasurable rhythm his fingers moved at and him sucking your clit made you fight against the urge of climbing higher and higher. You closed your eyes and listened to the wet sounds he was making with his mouth.
Fingers on his other hand were digging into your thigh, holding you steady. His curls tickled your abdomen with every movement he made.
Him watching you above only made him harder. He wanted you to let go. He opened his mouth, giving you wet kisses on your clit, with some light sucking. He pulled away and watched the mess you were. Your chest heaving, your hair tossed, and your brows furrowed with pleasure. He could stare at you forever like this.
"Use me." He breathed out
You opened your eyes to see him gazing up at you. His eyes flickered down to his hand, while his fingers continued to disappear in you.
"W-what?" You stuttered, it getting harder and harder for you to concentrate.
"Use me," He repeated, staring at you with his blown out pupils.
He placed his free hand on top yours that was in his hair. You felt him tighten your grip on his hair.
A grunt came out of his mouth and in that moment, you realized he liked his hair getting pulled.
Your mouth fell open to the thought of him being at your mercy. You watched as he eagerly brought his mouth back to pulsing core.
His tongue lovingly licking your bundle of nerves, with his lips wrapping around and sucking every so often. He could feel your wall gripping onto his fingers. He knew you were close.
"Carmyyy.." You whined, gripping onto his curls.
You felt yourself slowly start to grind your hips into him. A muffled groan came from him, the sound traveling straight to your clit. You fumbled, feeling it travel up your spine.
You felt his hand lift your leg over his shoulder, bringing him deeper into your folds. His finger tips traveled up and down your thigh as he devoured your pussy.
He watched you whimpering out and calling out his name weakly. He couldn't resist, and brought his hand down, palming his harden self in his tight jeans. He hastily unbuckled and unzipped them, giving him a little bit of relief and ease of access. Calvin Klein briefs peeked out from the undone jeans and were stretched against his bulge. He felt the moistness in his underwear from the continuous leaking cock. He half-ass pulled out it, giving himself some relieving strokes from the sight of you fucking his face.
With his sucks and kisses getting sloppier, he passionately focused on your throbbing pussy. He knew you couldn't last much longer. Hell, he wasn't going to last much longer. He pulled his hand away from his begging erection and wrapped his arm around your thigh. He gently nursing your throbbing clit with his tongue. Slowly, he added his index finger, feeling your lips suck them in as he pumped more.
You looked down and saw his blue love-drunken eyes on you, with a smirk on his face. He started angling his hand, sending another wave through you.
"Oh god.." You cried out, leaning more of your weight on to him.
He pulled his glistening mouth away, "Come f'me," His breath rugged and heavy.
"Carrmmyy-"
"Ssshhh, come on baby girl" He rasped, kissing your inner thigh.
You couldn't fight it anymore. You felt the pressure of pleasure build fast.
"Keep g-goin'" you whined, your hands tangled in his hair.
He leaned in and went back to sucking your clit. He felt your hips faulter feeling his tongue there again. Your thrusts became more desperate as you chased the high that he was inflicting on your pussy. He looked up seeing your mouth open in pure ecstasy.
You felt his fingers hit that one spot over and over again and mixed with his tongue lapping up your clit, you couldn't hold on any longer.
"Carm- Babe... I'm comin-" You gasped, your grip tightening on his hair.
He hungrily devouring your pussy, sucking on your clit and lips as your legs shook around him.
As he watched you fall apart in front of him, he couldn't hold back anymore. He impulsively brought his hand down to his weeping cock and stroked himself eagerly while lapping up your juices. He felt you tug his hair harder, and with that he let out a pleasurable moan.
The wave washed over you with the tension in your body melting away with orgasm. Your head fell back, breathing rapidly, trying to recover from the rush that was still flowing in your veins.
Your eyes fluttered open, and fell on Carmy below you gently kissing your outer lips before easing his fingers out of you, his hand completely covered in your juices. He pecked your inner thigh a couple of times before bringing your leg down from his shoulder.
As he pulled away from you, your eyes landed on white globs all over the bottom of his white t-shirt.
"Babe... Did you?" You asked a cheeky smile crept up on your face.
"Yea- Yeah I did" He looked down and chuckled.
You leaned down bringing him into a kiss, tasting yourself off of him. His tongue brushing against yours. With him still on his knees, he gently pulled down, the now, wrinkled pencil skirt.
"I think I owe you a skirt" He grinned, as you helped him up to his feet,
"I think so." You looked down, flattening the wrinkled with both hands.
"Are you going to be wearing skirts every day?" He raised an eyebrow, playing with the buttons on your shirt.
"Uh.. Most likely"
He sucked in his lips and glanced away for a moment.
"That's going to be hard" He hummed bringing his blue eyes back down to yours.
"I'll make sure it won't be an issue" You winked before giggling
A smile played on his lips before he leaned into give you a tender kiss.
"Here, let's get this off," you tugged the bottom of his t-shirt.
He raised his arms, letting you slip the shirt off of him and being met with his toned chest that only made you want to go for round two.
You could feel your sensitive pussy murmur awake from the thought of him bending you over and railing you. The thought made your stomach twist with excitement.
"C'mon, let's go take a shower" You teasingly smiled, and grabbed his undone belt that was still wrapped around his jeans making him follow you to the bathroom obediently.
Masterlist of fics
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zayneslady · 2 months
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summary: it's been a while since the last time you saw him, but you missed him so terribly.
warnings: angst/comfort. Happy endings for the win *sobs* Pt. 2 of these scenarios
characters: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier x reader (separately)
a/n: I wanted to apologize. I got some comments saying that perhaps I wrote them a bit too ooc and that they wouldn't do something like this, so I was thinking maybe I should step out from writing these; I'm probably not understanding the characters very well. I'm really sorry! I had this one written already, so this is probably going to be the last post I make! Thank you for your support! In only a couple of days you guys were so amazing and loving, I'm super moved and I don't deserve you all at all ❤️
classification: scenarios
tag list: many of you asked me to tag you in the second part, I hope you guys like it! 💕
@biitchyberry @rosaryia @lcheerymotion @mo0nforme
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ZAYNE ❄️
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It's been four weeks since your argument with Zayne. The first days had been like hell. You had already tasted the honey of a relationship with the person you liked the most and loved the most. You wanted more of him, you needed more. You felt anxious without him, like you had become addicted to his kisses, his gentle touch, and the sweet words he whispered in your ears. You missed him more than you dared to admit.
The days passed slowly, each second seemed to last an eternity. When you got home you felt the emptiness of his presence and you felt like dying, but life continued on, and eventually you got used to being without him. The pain was still present, but more bearable as time kept its course. 
You had stopped frequenting the places you knew he liked for fear of running into him. The dessert shop, the cafe near the hospital, the night stands near the library. You even avoided getting sick so you wouldn't have to go to the hospital. Your life was limited to going to work and coming straight home, with occasional visits to buy groceries. 
You would never have thought that you would have to live a life again without Zayne and only because he didn't know how to separate his friendships from his romantic partner. So smart, but so stupid at the same time. 
You sighed, returning to the present and the food you were making; it was too late when you realized it, but unconsciously you were making one of his favorite dishes. You weren't going to waste the food, so you just carried on trying not to think much about it. 
“Now, where did I put–,” you stopped, surprised by the sudden knocking on your door. You frowned, you were not expecting anyone, but the knocking continued once more and you sighed, turned off the stove. “I'm coming.”
You regretted opening the door. Opening just a crack to see who it was, your heart fluttered in your chest as if there was a small caged bird inside it. Zayne was standing in front of you. He looked ridiculously tired, more than you'd ever seen him. The bags and dark circles under his eyes were deep, his skin did not look radiant and healthy as always and his eyes did not shine like emeralds. 
Your hands were sweating and your insides were churning. "Are you okay?" You asked with a broken voice. Zayne shook his head and he fainted, but with a gasp, you quickly wrapped an arm around his waist and tried to keep him upright. “Zayne! Hey, what's happening?” 
Zayne didn't answer you, and just leaned on you. Not knowing what to do, you dragged him inside and carefully guided him to your room. Once there, you laid him down on your bed, he looked weak. 
“Zayne? Can you hear me? Are you okay?” 
He mumbled your name and your heart raced. “I'm… I am sorry,” he said as he finally passed out. You gasped, but soon heard the soft snores you were so used to. 
Was he that exhausted? And what was he doing at your house? You frowned, fighting back the stinging sensation in your eyes as you tried to hold back some tears. He really always appeared to stir everything inside you. You had already accepted your life without him, but here he was. You sighed heavily, taking off Zayne's shoes and covering him with a blanket.
Your eyes couldn't help but admire him. Even though he was tired, he still looked as handsome as ever. It seemed like a dream, an illusion that would disappear at any moment. You wanted it to happen. You wanted him to disappear, but at the same time, you wanted to take him in your arms and kiss his face. But no, clearing your throat, you grabbed an extra blanket and left the room, closing the door behind you. It was better to let him rest so he could leave as soon as he got up. 
The next morning you woke up to soft steps. Sitting up and whining a little after sleeping on the couch, you saw Zayne coming out from your bedroom. His hair was messy and he was rubbing one of his eyes like a little child, something warm spread across your chest and a smile tried to spread your lips, but you stopped it. He seemed more rested, the bags under his eyes had diminished considerably and his skin looked a little more alive. 
“Zayne.”
He seemed a bit startled as he looked at you with slightly wide eyes. “Hello… I am sorry I fell asleep.” 
You hummed, folding the blanket. “Haven't you been sleeping well?" You didn't want to sound worried, but you were. 
“I haven't… I constantly have nightmares and I've been working over time… a lot more."
“Why?”
“Because I can't stop thinking about you,” he said and despair filled his eyes. “You have no idea how much I've missed you. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I have been working nonstop so I can have my mind occupied, but you're always there, in the back of my head.” 
Don't cry. Don't cry! 
“And what exactly do you want me to do about it, Zayne?” You said coldly, wanting to get over with this. 
Zayne approached you and you couldn't move as he took your hands. “Please, please. Give me another chance. I swear. I swear in my life that I do not have feelings for her. I just… I was just stupid and took you for granted. Please, my love, please.”
Tears began to well up in your eyes and you cried even harder as Zayne grabbed your face. "N-No, don't touch me.”
“Please. How can I show you I truly want you? Do you want me to stop talking to her? I'll do it. I'll do it, so please. Just… please. I can't live without you.” His words sounded sincere.
His eyes were glassy and the pain on his face was evident, but your heart still hurt. How did you know that he really wouldn't leave you as a second option anymore? You couldn't even tell him to stop talking to Miss Hunter, you knew this was just Zayne's fault. 
“Zayne… Zayne you're hurting me so much.”
“I know. I know I am and I am terribly sorry for this. I love you. I truly love you.” 
You also loved him, so much. 
“... If this ever happens again, Zayne… I won't forgive you another time. Remember that.”
His green eyes shone with happiness as he pulled you into a tight hug. You hugged him back, the tips of your fingers tingling as you felt his warmth, the tip of your nose digging into the crook of his neck, you breathed deeply, enjoying his scent. 
“You're on trial, Zayne.”
Zayne chuckled and he nodded. “Yes. You won't regret me, I promise you.”
RAFAYEL 🐠
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Life was boring without him. He was the spark and the spice in your days. With him, every day seemed like a small adventure, but now that you no longer saw him, the days seemed dark and lifeless. You didn't even remember how much time had passed since that day. One week? Three days? Two months? You weren't sure and, honestly, you tried not to think about it too much because, even though you missed him, the pang of pain in your heart almost made you gasp for air every single time you recalled every moment with him. It was almost as if his bodyguard had also been there, on every date with Rafayel, for all of your conversations were about her. 
He was full of praise for her. He named each of her virtues and laughed affectionately at her defects. He didn't accept anyone claiming that they were better than her or stronger, because his precious bodyguard was the strongest and the bestest. Just thinking about it made you feel tears filling your eyes. You didn't want to remember any of it, but as you held your phone with your thumb hovering over the dial button, you couldn't stop thinking about how miserable Rafayel made you feel, even when he also made you feel like the most loved person in the world. 
When he didn't have his mouth full of his wonderful bodyguard, Rafayel showered you with affection. His kisses, his hugs, and his caresses all felt full of love and tenderness. His beautiful eyes looked at you sweetly, as if you were the most precious thing that ever existed on earth. He liked to tease you and make you laugh and he always said that you were like a muse for all his paintings: The sparkle in your eyes, the color of your hair, the texture of your skin, the curves of your body, everything was inspiration.
How could he be so cruel and loving all at the same time? Poor bodyguard, you even didn't like her although she hadn't done anything wrong, as far as you knew. 
Sighing, you finally tapped on the green button and your heart raced faster and faster at every beep coming from the other side of the line. Would he answer you? Was he… with her? Was he busy with one of his paintings? What if- 
His voice calling your name surprised you, making you jump. “I’m here! Hi!” he sounded out of breath and your cheeks blushed. “Hmm, h-how are you d-doing?” 
“Rafayel…,” you took a deep breath. “I… have some clothes at your place. Could I stop by later to get them?” 
“YES! I… I mean… yes. I'll- I'll be here all day. You can stop by at any time you want.”
“... Right. Then, see you there, Rafayel.” 
You let out a long sigh after hanging up. You had forgotten how wonderful his voice was and the way he pronounced your name. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. You were going to see him, you were really going to come again, but you shouldn't be excited. What if he and his bodyguard were dating? The thought made your stomach twist and you decided it was best to leave immediately. The quicker you finish this, the better. 
As always, the door was open, but you didn't immediately enter, your hands were shaking and your heart was racing against your ribcage. You didn't want to see him.
Taking a deep breath, you gently pushed the door open and you were greeted with that aroma that you had missed so much. The smell of acrylic paint, the sea and Rafayel's scent. You couldn't help but take a long breath- this exquisite smell felt like home. Your eyes watered a little, but you tried to stay calm as you walked deeper into the spacious house.
“R-Rafayel? Are you here? "You heard a gasp from the room and in a second, Rafayel appeared in front of you. Ah, he looked as wonderful and beautiful as always. His gorgeous eyes were wide, looking you up and down as his mouth stretched into a shy smile. You wanted to hug him. “The door… was open so I just- I'm sorry.”
“No! That's okay! I… I left it open for you!” 
You nodded. “I see… do you mind if I just…”
“No, go ahead, please.” You excuse yourself as you made your way to his room, as you passed by him you felt your legs tremble and you gasped in surprise when he suddenly took your hand.
“Rafayel, what-
“Please, forgive me,” he begged, his eyebrows furrowed in a painful expression. “I was absolutely wrong, you were so right. I was stupid and careless and hurt you so badly.”
“Rafayel… I just came for my clothing, let me g-
“Please!” He hugged you and you went stiff. “Please, please,” he sobbed in your ear. 
“Are you crying?” 
He nodded. “I can't live another second without you. I can't paint anymore. I feel like a piece of me has been taken away, I live half and barely. I really, really do not have feelings for my bodyguard. You're the only one I can think about.”
“Then why- 
“I just… I was just stupid, I didn't mean anything to hurt you, I swear! When I said I missed her, what I wanted to say is that I wanted to train with her, I would never make you train, that's too dangerous,” he started to explain in a rush. “When I told you about the candies, it's because she gave me some amazing chocolate I wanted to gift you and then-
“Rafayel-
“Please. Just this once, I swear,” he said, finally showing his reddened face, tears streaming down his face. You gulped, reaching up to clean his tears away and he whined. “I wasn't there to wipe your tears, I am so sorry.” 
That made you burst into tears. That's right, you really wanted him to wipe your tears. He gently cupped your cheeks and his thumbs brushed against your cheeks, catching all of those tears falling from your pretty eyes. 
“You can break up with me if I do something like that again! But please… just this once. I love you so much. I really do.” 
You looked at him, His eyes were still wet and some tears were still falling down his cheeks. Maybe…
“Just this once, Rafayel… I won't forgive anything like this ever again.” He beamed and leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss, but you covered his mouth, frowning slightly. “I'm still mad at you.”
He blinked and gently smiled behind your hand before taking it in his. “Of course, I'll prove myself to you, beautiful creation.” 
XAVIER ⭐
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You couldn't sleep. It's been two weeks since you last slept properly. Two weeks ago you were in Xavier's arms and he held you lovingly, whispering words of comfort in your ears. You weren't sure why, but being around Xavier always made you feel relaxed, a little sleepy, but never bored. You loved spending lazy times with him, taking naps and frolicking in bed, giggling like fools and giving each other soft, tender kisses. 
With his warmth and love it was not difficult to fall asleep at night, he always wanted to sleep so that tranquility that emanated from him was enough to relax you and make you sleep throughout the whole night. In the mornings you felt rejuvenated and full of life and seeing his sleepy smile was like living in a dream. 
You felt your bottom lip quiver into a pout. You missed him too much. You never thought he would behave that way. Had you never really been important to him? If he wanted to be with his partner so much, why had he even agreed to go out with you in the first place? 
“Agh! I hate you Xavier!” You cried, banging your fists against the table in your kitchen. “Why did you let me fall in love with you?” Maybe you really had gone crazy, talking to the table like that. 
There was no time for this. It was almost dark and you still needed to go buy some groceries for your dinner. You struggled out of your house, so tired and dragging your feet. You wanted to sleep... with Xavier. You wanted to feel his warmth. But... what if he now wrapped his partner in his arms? Your cheeks turned red and, trying to avoid thinking about it, you hurried to catch the bus. 
You found a seat near the door and next to a young man, there weren't as many people as you imagined and as the bus started to go you felt your eyes heavy. Maybe... you could sleep for a few minutes? The store wasn't far away, so just a few minutes... just a couple of minutes… 
You heard your name being called between clouds. From far away. Over and over and over. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. 
“Hmm?” You opened your eyes and gasped, How long had it been?! Where were you? And... why was your head...? Had you fallen asleep on someone's shoulder?! "Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" You said, raising your head only to find that the young man next to you... "Xavier?!" 
The hunter blinked, his eyes avoided yours for a second before looking directly at you and nodding a small greeting. Had he been there next to you the whole time? You could barely notice what was happening around you with how tired you were, but, strangely, you felt very good. It seemed like he really was the cure for all your ills. You chuckled softly, shaking your head. Xavier looked at you confused, tilting his head to the side like a little bird. 
“I'm sorry, Xavier. I didn't know you were there,” you jumped, “but wait, where are we?!” Checking outside the window, you could tell you were far away from the store now. 
“We're almost at my place,” he said gently and the alarms in your head set off. His partner... didn't she live in the apartment below?! Oh no. Before, you had no problem staying at Xavier's house, but... if they were really in a relationship…
“I gotta go,” you said, seeing the next bus station. It was already dark outside.
“Where are you going?” Xavier asked and you frowned.
“What do you mean? Back home. I only wanted to go to the store, but I fell asleep as you could see… Now it's even dark. Thankfully it's not raining,” you were babbling to yourself as you waited to arrive at the next stop, when you finally did, you got up. “Sorry about that, Xavier. Goodnight.” 
"Now... The next bus…," you mumbled checking the bus's schedule. "10 minutes? Lucky~"
“I'll go with you.” 
You couldn't help but squeal and jump when you heard his voice right behind you. Turning around, you saw him standing there, as tall as he was and as bright as the stars. 
“I'll take you home. It's dark. Something could happen.”
You rolled your eyes. "What could happen, I'm only going home.” 
“Some witnesses have seen wanderers in the area. I can't let you go alone." 
You sat on the bench, arms crossed, Xavier sitting next to you. "Ah, that's true. I'm not strong like your... Forget it." Your cheeks turned red. Very well! Keep opening your big mouth! Xavier didn't say anything, but you could feel his gaze on you and the blush on your cheeks traveled to the tips of your ears. 
Silence reigned between you. You could feel him, his warmth, he was so close to you, you could reach out and touch his knee. Your eyes felt heavy, you wanted to hug him. 
“I am sorry,” he suddenly said and you thought you imagined it but then he repeated it. “I am sorry for what I said the other day.” You turned to look at him and flinched when he saw his bright eyes looking sad and red. “I don't know what I was thinking. Talking like that in front of my girlfriend. Acting like I didn't want to have been there with you, but you're the only person I want close to me. I don't like nor have feelings for my coworker, I only want and need you.” 
He gently wiped a tear from your rosy cheek, his touch was electrifying. 
“You haven't been sleeping well.” You didn't answer, but he continued. “I haven't been able to sleep either. I keep recalling that day and seeing your crying face, I can't stand it… please forgive me.” 
He took your hands and you finally looked up at him, your eyes widening as you saw a small tear fall down his cheek. 
“I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I still beg you, I beg you to give me another chance. I promise I'll do better. Something like this will never happen again. I was an idiot." 
You frowned, “you were an idiot. Do you have any idea how you made me feel? It's hard to believe you love me.” 
He nodded, listening to you carefully. “I know it's hard to believe, but please let me prove it to you, let me show you how much I love you, please. I can't be without you anymore, my star. I need you, otherwise I'll go crazy. Please.” 
You sobbed and Xavier gently pulled you close to him. Wrapping you between his warm arms. You tried to pull away, but he didn't let you and soon you melted in his embrace, crying into his work clothes. 
“Please, give me another chance.” 
You nodded softly. Just one more chance. “There's not gonna be a second time,” you warned between sobs and he chuckled, kissing the top of your head. 
“I won't need them. I will treasure you as the most valuable thing that you are. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” 
1K notes · View notes
dwindlinghaze · 5 months
Text
lover in the foyer
(remus lupin x reader)
summary: remus lupin loves you, but his best friend 'likes' you too. so you both ended up fake dating.
contents: fluff, hurt/comfort, protective remus, r and remus are totally in love fr.
  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
it was a secret that you have a little crush on remus lupin. you kept that information to yourself 'cause you couldn't let the others know- it would be too embarrassing if they do. for years you've been hiding your feelings. burying it deep inside your heart.
well, that was until one day on the marauder's dormitory, a conversation was spoken.
"i've got something to tell," james started, sitting up right on his bed.
"what is it?" remus replied.
"promise you won't call me crazy?" he asked.
"we promise!" the other three said in unison.
"i'm starting to like a girl... and it's not lily," said the boy.
"what?" sirius asked, not believing what his mate just said. it was globally known that james potter loves lily evans. no one else. it has been six years since.
"yeah... it's y/n,"
a ringing silence filled the room.
you weren't super close with them four. although you are kind of friends with remus. you two talked occasionally when passing through the hallways or in the great hall.
during those small little encounters, remus might've caught some feelings. something different bloomed in his heart. hearing james saying this made his heart burn.
"i feel like she'd be a good distraction- i mean from lily. maybe that way i can make lily jealous and then she'll confess to me. even if lily-flower didn't, y/n would still be decent as a girlfriend i guess. no harm," james continued.
remus frowned, his skin burning. how could someone do that? having you as a second option? total bullshit. he wouldn't let you get treated like that. he wouldn't let james pick on your self esteem like that.
you're too good for anyone. he knows. being a substitute for someone because their crush doesn't like them back is not morally right. your soft heart is too precious to be crushed that way.
"prongs- i think that's a good idea! by then you can get lily to confess to you! you'd be everything!" sirius encouraged james, much to remus' dismay.
"moons?"
"moony has been real quiet-"
"i don't think that's a good idea," remus said sternly. he would be flaring laser beams from his eyes at james if he were a cartoon character.
james' mouth dropped, "why?"
"because- cause she's my girlfriend!" remus spoke abruptly, not knowing what he had actually said.
"your what?" all three of them screamed in shock. remus never said anything about a girl.
"how long?"
"how did that happen?"
"why didn't you tell us?"
"stop!" remus yelled, making them shut their mouth. he was panicking now. you are not his girlfriend. you'll never be. not now. not even tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.
"i started to date her like... two weeks ago," remus said before standing up, grabbing his bag before he headed out of the room. "i have to go, she said something about wanting to meet me in the library."
he fumbled with the hem of his sweater. it was cold, but he was sweating heavily. he has to find you.
thank god the marauder's map was on his bag or he would be caught lying. he saw your name- beautifully written- you were on the clocktower field, sitting alone.
remus ran to where you are, panting when he arrived.
"oh y/n!" he said, taking heavy breaths.
"yeah? remus?" you looked up from your book, gazing at him with the softest yet confused pretty eyes.
"i made a big mistake- i'm so so sorry!" remus said hurriedly. his sweat trickling down his forehead.
"calm down rem, i'm sure it wasn't that horrible! sit beside me, we can talk," you sent him a comforting smile, patting the empty seat beside you.
remus sat down, wiping his palms on his trousers. how does he say it? when does he start?
"you okay?" you asked.
"noyou'rereallyprettyandkindandlovelyandsweetandiknowyouwillneverlikemebackandyouwillhatemeforthisbecauseiclaimedthatyouaremygirlfriendfortwoweeksandimsososorry."
"say that again?" you laughed, pulling out a napkin to hand it to the poor nervous boy before you.
"i may or may not have said that you are my girlfriend in front of my friends."
"why would you say that?" your heart skipped a beat, taking in the words remus has spoken. you'd be lying if you said that you've never dreamed of this- being called remus lupin's girl.
"because- it's kind of stupid really. i got it out before i even know what i was talking about that moment," he scrambled with his words, finding it hard to form a sentence right now.
"basically, james told me that he likes you but i know he does not like you. he said he wanted to go out with you just so lily can realise that she is in love with him. and i would never let him do that to you. putting you second, you deserve so much better than that. and long story short, i said that you are my girlfriend... yeah."
remus lupin was doing this for you. so that you don't get played. how sweet.
"uhm," you looked down, playing with the hem of your skirt.
"uhm- would you be in for- y'know fake dating... me..?" remus said awkwardly. "it's alright if you don't want to, i'll make some excuses. but please don't agree on going out with james. i don't want you hurt," he whispered the last words. it was half self-indulgent in his part. seeing his the girl he's been pining for years dating his best friend is not a good feeling. but he also doesn't want you to be a second choice. it feels horrible to be. knowing that feeling all to well.
"okay- i guess i can date you," you said shyly. cheeks turning crimson.
"okay- great. we can stop if you don't feel comfortable. don't wanna pressure- just for a few weeks," he said once more.
"it's fine rem, or should i call you honey? or darling? or-" you laughed, seeing his flushed face. he is so adorable. how lucky you are to have him as your 'boyfriend'.
"how can i be a girlfriend?" you asked as you two walked back from the field.
holding hands.
it wasn't in his mind that you would ever hold his hand but you are now. dreams really do come true huh.
"we just keep it normal- i mean like we hold hands, and maybe i will hug you more often, those pda stuffs. remember, only if you're comfortable." such a gentleman he is. he always makes sure that you are comfortable everytime. gosh that gave you the fluttery butterflies.
"okay, i can manage," you giggled.
"y/n- darlin'', can i sit with you during breakfast tomorrow?" remus whispered. you both were sitting on the common room in the corner, the other marauders sprawled a few feet away.
"sure, you can," you smiled softly at him.
he squeezed your hands, resting his cheek on your shoulder. this small action gave you butterflies, the pretty sparks. his face was pressed against the fabric of your soft cardigan, with one of his arm around you.
it's just been three days and you have fallen more in love.
remus on the other hand is trying not to get this too much in his head or he'd go feral. being this close to you and basically cuddling on the couch felt like a fever dream. one that he doesn't want to wake up from.
your silky skin, that periwinkle smile, those wonderstruck lips, angelic face, your incandescent touch, those misty eyes. he loves them all. how could one not? he felt the luckiest in the school for having this. having you with him on a cold friday night under the same fluffy blanket of yours. the smell of you intoxicating his nose. he isn't bothered by it. he enjoyed it.
the most obvious thing in a relationship is display of affection. though it wasn't hard for any of you to do that. remus held your bag, your books, your papers, even the things you can do yourself. he insisted that he had to help you bring them.
and that goes for days. you and remus fake dating.
james was still skeptical about remus sudden relationship. remus was never the one to look for love in his life. well- at least that's what sirius observed.
he couldn't help but look more into details of remus' 'relationship'. he noticed how remus never kissed you in public. or at least when he's in the same room as you and remus are.
"if you've been dating for three weeks now, why haven't you two got in the next step yet?" james squinted his eyes at the both of you. holding hands while studying.
"whatever do you mean by that?" remus questioned.
"like- i don't know kissing..?"
"i do kiss her often," remus replied, shrugging before he squeezed your knuckles, rubbing soft circles.
"how come i've never seen it?" james asked childishly.
"well here. maybe because you don't have to see or know or hear everything about my personal life," remus replied rather coldly.
"i'm starting to think you two are f-"
james' words were cut short as remus' lips locked to yours, wrapping them in a deep kiss.
james let out an "o" sound, walking outside the common room because the tension would be awkward for the three of you.
the moment he stepped out of the room, remus pulled away. eyes brimmed with fear and embarrassment. "sweetheart, i'm so sorry," remus said.
"it's okay remus..." you still haven't processed what had just happened but you sure did kind of enjoyed it.
"um we- we should do that more often. i mean- to make it more real y'know..." he said stiffly. it's not actually about 'making it more real'. he just wanted to kiss you, feel you. he really liked kissing you.
you didn't know what you're getting yourself into. you thought whatever this thing is would only last for two days and then you'll be back in your daydreaming days. but it wasn't. remus is still there.
that goes on for months. the both of you went from holding hands, to kissing, to lean on each other, to more boyfriend and girlfriend things. if you didn't know better, you'd think he's not faking all of this.
hogsmeade trip is coming up, that's the only thing the students are talking about right now. visiting new shops and doing early holiday shoppings. you'd be lying if you said you weren't excited. not only will the village be like a winter wonderland with the snow all over the ground and the roof, but also since remus is going with you for the day.
"you excited, dove?" remus smiled when he met you halfway on the walk to the carriage. he pulls out his gloved hand from his pocket to place it around your back.
you pressed yourself against his warmth, giggling in content. you didn't really have to speak, remus knows.
he kissed the top of your forehead, then guide you to the carriage with some random students.
as the thestrals pulled, you beamed when the snow starts falling down. perfect. everything is so perfect right now. snowflakes fall down your lashes and hair, a sight remus wanted to tattoo in his mind forever.
you had worn make up today, he can visibly see the pinkish shadow in your eyelids. remus couldn't help but admire how pretty your make up looks. how you're so good at doing anything.
your lips were a pink shade close to your natural ones, he wanted to kiss them- give your lips warmth. he was staring at you for so long to the point where he didn't realise that the carriage had arrived.
"it's pretty here! i always love seeing snow on the roof," you smiled brightly at the snow-covered roofs, inhaling the smell of fresh snow falling from the sky.
"they sure are," he agreed, "do you want to go to the cafe for a bit? the ride was cold," he blew his palms.
"of course!"
smell of fresh baked goods filled your nose, contrast to the outside. you two chose a spot near the fireplace, ordering a cup of hot cocoa.
there was a comfortable silence between the both of you. neither really have to talk. you just smiled at each other occasionally, looking around the room after. times like these make your fake relationship feels real.
when you finished your cups of hot cocoa, you two went to honeydukes, buying lots of sweets for the holiday stocks.
remus paid for your chocolates. you insisted on paying them yourself but he refused. dumping his handful of sweets over yours so they were mixed, making it impossible for you to pick yours up.
"rem, you know you can't do this right?"
"why not?" he pouted, "i want to be a good boyfriend after all."
he gave butterflies to your stomach, you hide your visibly burning cheeks on his shoulder, hugging his arm.
he loved that, so much. it feels so real, like you actually love being with him.
then you walked in a bookstore, choosing your read for the month. this time you were paying for him. "you're being so kind, and i love that but let me reciprocate that too!"
remus just nodded in defeat, kissing the crown of your head.
you and remus had a wonderful trip, one that will always be remembered. just before you part your ways, you said, "i've enjoyed the trip a lot. thank you remus for spending the day with me." you yawned, rubbing your eyes. then you kissed him. it was remus who initiates the kisses first, but this time it's you.
he cant help but feel those butterflies inside him again, holding your figure securely. "i'm getting tired, i'll see you tomorrow, love." you kissed him once more before climbing up to the girl's dormitory. leaving remus in utter shock.
maybe you guys aren't fake dating after all. maybe this is real all along. the last time the two of you ever said 'fake' was so long ago. that made him realise that this is real.
oh he can't sleep that night.
the next morning remus was skipping down to the great hall for breakfast with an uncontrolled smile on his face. this morning he woke up earlier, took a warm shower, brushed his hair, and do all things that james potter does.
"you look extra happy today hm?" james questioned, quirking one of his eyebrows up.
"just had a really good date yesterday, so good," remus replied, grabbing a plate of waffles with yoghurt and a bunch of other fruits.
"i didn't know you like kiwis," sirius snorted.
remus rolled his eyes, scoffing, "it's for my girl, look she's coming!" he said shyly, waving his hand for you.
you sat beside him greeting the students around a good morning. "you look- different, did you cut your hair?"
remus laughed, shaking his head.
"oh," you giggled, scrunching your face. remus loves that sight. you look so pretty and adorable every single day, he was so lucky. "you're handsome, y'know," you opted, making his cheeks redder.
"ugh lovebirds," sirius gagged, stuffing his mouth with potatoes.
remus smiled to himself, then he grabbed your fingers, intertwining them together. "here, your breakfast, i cut the waffles so you can eat easier. not that i think you'll have a hard time cutting waffles- you are perfectly capable of doing anything by yourself."
your heart fluttered at his words.
how much of a gentleman he is being! you wished he is your actual boyfriend. the girl that ends up with him must be so lucky.
"thank you so much," you said.
christmas is coming, and there was a party thrown at the gryffindor's common room.
"it's not even christmas yet padfoot," remus stated.
"i know, that's why it's called a pre-christmas celebration party!" sirius cheered as he wrote a letter to one of the firewhiskey store at hogsmeade, ordering boxes of the drink. he also ordered some butterbeer for those who don't drink.
"well you better celebrate cause this is the day where i'm asking lily flower out!" james said happily.
"sure prongs," remus nodded unconvincingly.
"are you enjoying the party?" he came up to you right after your friend was leaving to the bathroom.
"i am! loving the option of butterbeer," you replied.
"you haven't got any drinks?" remus asked.
"nope, i just had a chocolate cake and a butterbeer," you said.
"good good, you don't want to be like sirius or james," he pointed to the both of them. they were dancing on the sofa, jumping like rockstars, holding nonexistent guitars.
you laughed at them before grabbing his hand. "hope you don't mind, getting crowded here."
remus squeezed your knuckles, "i don't mind, you can hold me whenever you'd like."
the the two of your heard a joyous yell from james potter. "lily said yes!" he said to everyone. you can already sense lily's eye roll from there.
"finally!" remus laughed.
but you didn't. what happens now? are you and remus going to stop dating because james will not pick on you anymore or will this be continued.
that night ended with you staring at the ceiling, frowning of whatever's coming.
remus was still his lovely self, he still gives you kisses, hugs you, gets your breakfast ready, and all that sweet things he does.
you on the other hand was sceptical. maybe he just forgot or maybe he didn't know how to tell you. so you did the only thing in your mind. avoiding him little by little as days passed. it's the only way to get this over with as soon as possible before you completely fall for him more and more. like people say 'you've got to leave before you get left'.
remus noticed as days passed. you don't kiss him back anymore. you don't hug his arm. you rarely touch his hand. it was frustrating.
did you really stopped liking him? or was everything just in his head. he couldn't get those thoughts out of his mind. he was feeling less joyful as he usually does.
one evening you saw him alone in front of the fire place, a book open but he was staring at the burning fire. you couldn't help but saw how his beautiful face was forming frown, forehead crinkling and sorrow eyes.
you approached the boy, placing your hand on his shoulder gently.
remus flinched, turning around, "i didn't know you're there." his voice was croaky.
"it's okay, i just got here. are you feeling alright?" you sat beside him, knees touching.
"um i- don't know..?" he replied, his eyes averted back to the fire.
your heart sunk, a part of you knew that this is maybe your fault. you were doing this to him.
"rem, talk to me. maybe i can help."
"you've been distant," he replied. he cringed at how stupid those words sounded.
"i uh-"
"did i do something? i'm sorry, i'm sorry for making you feel that way. if you don't want to be together that's fine and-"
"what are you talking about? remus you didn't do anything wrong!"
"well why are you avoiding me as if our relationship means nothing."
"remus-," you paused, trying to find the words. "we are faking all of this remember?"
"what?" remus asked. you could see the pure shock in his face also a tint of sadness . "i thought we were dating- not fake dating."
"huh? since when?"
"after our hogsmeade date... i'm so sorry for jumping on to conclusions way too fast. i just thought we were together because it felt so real. like just- you and me- we-"
your heart clenched, "what if i told you that it felt real too?" you whispered.
"what do you mean?" he avoided eye contact.
"i love spending time with you. you made that hogsmeade trip so memorable for me. no one has made me feel so- so content. it felt like you- you like me."
"i like you," he replied.
"i like you too," you replied.
he relaxed, a soft smile on his lips. "so you thought we were faking all of this while i'm over here thinking that we are mutually in love?"
you giggled, trying to ignore the part where he said love. "you never asked me to be your girlfriend, how was i supposed to know?"
"okay yes that was my fault, so would you like to be my absolutely-real-not-fake-long-time girlfriend?" remus asked with a cheeky smile.
"i accept your offer as your absolutely-real-not-fake-long-time girlfriend," you replied.
you both laughed, and remus pulled you to his chest as he rest his chin over your shoulder. "remember earlier when i said i like you? scratch that- i love you."
2K notes · View notes
ahundredtimesover · 3 months
Text
I Want You to Stay (06) | JJK
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Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut
Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)
Chapter Word count: 14.6k
Series Masterlist
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Status: Ongoing
Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.
Playlist 🎶: on the way home
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A/N: We're slowly heading somewhere! Still slow but it's something hehe thank you again for appreciating this piece! 🥰 Also... JK in that Vogue outfit with a corsage. YEP.
And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰
PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!
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The silence that engulfs Jungkook’s apartment once you enter the following Monday is quite unnerving, as it brings back memories of the last time this happened and a half-naked woman came out of the bedroom and questioned who you were. The gym is empty. There’s no other sound of someone typing away or talking on the phone like the few times that you found Jungkook working before you even arrived.
You take a deep breath and decide to just face whoever comes out of these doors until one of them opens and out comes the man himself - alone - dressed in an oversized jumper and sweatpants. He looks like he just got out of bed with his semi-mussed hair - with a little sprout bouncing along as he moves - and groggy eyes, which widen once it registers that you’re here.
“Mr. Jeon,” you bow in greeting. “Are you feeling better?”
“A little,” he replies, his deep and gruff voice startling you a little. “What do you have there?”
He gestures towards the paper bag you’re holding, and you remember what you decided to bring over.
“Uh, chicken noodle soup,” you mutter, somehow suddenly shy. “Just an option for this morning. I wasn’t sure if you were still feeling under the weather.”
“I think I’m just fatigued,” he says. “But uh, I can have that.”
“Yes, sir,” you nod, putting it in a pot to eventually heat. 
You prepare his suits for the week then prepare his breakfast, pouring yourself a small serving as well. He takes his seat and starts eating, and you glance at him to see his reaction.
“Where did you get the one from last Saturday?” He asks, his face expressionless.
“From a store nearby,” you answer. “I was heading somewhere and your building was on the way.”
“This tastes better. Where did you get this from?” 
“I, uh, I made it,” you say softly, feeling a bit of pride that it’s something he complimented. 
There’s prolonged silence that you’re suddenly nervous about. His eyes remain focused straight ahead while yours constantly flit towards him, partly to gauge if he’ll start talking about last week’s meeting and partly to see his reaction about your dish.
“You don’t have to send or make me food, Ms. Cho,” he finally says, wishing he’d said it with a bit more warmth. 
But he’s not used to speaking that way, so it comes off as displeasure, as if he doesn’t appreciate what you’d done even if that’s exactly how he feels. He’s grateful; he just doesn’t want another reason to think that you actually care about him. 
“My health is my responsibility, not yours,” he adds.
“I, uh… I suppose that’s true,” you say even more softly. “I just thought it would be nice to be given something like this when you’re sick.”
And it’s the truth. During the times you were unwell, Hoseok would remind you to rest or take your medicines; he even bought you vitamins and it’s why taking them became a habit of yours. You barely had the energy to make soup. But after that one time when you braved through an event and Yoongi noticed you feeling under the weather, he took you to a noodle house and ordered extra chicken noodle soup for you to take home. You had it all through the weekend, and though it wasn’t like your mom’s, it was still something familiar, and it was comfort that you badly needed.
You thought it was something you could extend to Jungkook. You weren’t sure if he was spending the weekend at home by himself, but in case he was, you thought that something warm would help. You were on your way to watch a local film and happened to pass by his area, the image of him sick and probably alone prompting you to just buy that dish and leave it at the reception. You suddenly craved it and made one for yourself last night, thinking it wouldn’t hurt if you brought some over for him as well. Even if he thinks it isn’t your responsibility, you think it’s still within your role to make sure that your boss - the Vice President - conducts his functions properly, and he can only do so if he’s healthy. 
As you finish the small portion that you prepared for yourself, Jungkook wonders who’d taken care of you during the times you were sick. With your friends and family miles away, perhaps there wasn’t anyone. Maybe it was a boyfriend. Or maybe like what he’s come to see, you did things on your own. Maybe you think there’s no one doing that for him, too. 
And you wouldn’t be wrong. He was never good with company, after all, whether it was offering or keeping it. So when someone offers something as simple as a bowl of soup for when he’s feeling unwell, it cuts through the walls he’s built around himself because he’s become used to no one even knocking to check how he’s doing. 
But in an effort to remain unmoved and insistent on keeping his distance, he sets boundaries once more. 
“You don’t need to do this for me, Mr. Cho,” he states. “I appreciate it, but I’d prefer if you don’t do it again.”
He sees your face fall from his periphery, and much as he wants to take it back, he knows he has to hold back. It was hard enough to resist feeling cared for. 
He’d really spent the weekend by himself, turning down his friends’ invitation to go to a resort and Hoseok’s offer of dinner at this newly opened steak house. Jungkook was buried under the covers when the phone rang informing him that you’d left something for him, unwilling to move and get off the bed because he was too tired but also too hungry, so when he opened the bag and it registered to him what you've given him, he felt less alone and less sad for himself. The image of your shy expression flashed through his mind and he couldn’t help the smile he let out, giving himself only a minute to bask in your kindness before reminding himself that it means nothing more than making sure he’s well. It’s harder for you if he’s sick, he convinced himself. Still, he’d rather not think about it; he’d rather not torture himself by his brain wanting you to mean one thing, but his heart hoping it was another.
“I understand, Mr. Jeon,” you say, your voice a little too firm for his liking. “I apologize if it made you uncomfortable.”
“It—” didn’t, he wants to say. It made him feel nice and comfortable and that’s what he can’t let himself feel around you. 
“I treat this as part of my job,” you reason, a half lie because you really did want to extend some kindness even if he may not exactly be deserving of it. “But it may not be so for you. I’ll take note of this moving forward.”
Jungkook concedes. Any objection will counter what he’s been saying, even if he didn’t mean all of it. And like how you always do, you get over it quickly, flashing him a measured smile and taking out your iPad to go through this week’s schedule. 
You both head to the car after and discuss his previous meetings. You’re detailed and engaged, taking down notes and asking him questions like the professional that you are. He tells you about his meeting with artist Lee Jaemin and that he agreed with 80% of the pieces that you and Yoongi chose. You talk about the Board members’ reactions during his presentation and he shares what they talked to him about during the dinner. 
“Socializing with them was tiring,” he admits. “I couldn’t keep up with all the things that they wanted to talk about.”
You give him an assuring smile. “You looked like you did well,” you assure him. “They seemed engaged, although as Mr. Jung would say, part of that is for show, to get on your good side. It would be smarter to think that not all of it was genuine.”
“True. But I enjoyed speaking with Mr. Saito. He’s an architect, too, and we had a really good talk about incorporating traditional elements in a modern design.”
“Yes, he’s always been kind,” you say. “But it’s good that you’re able to forge these relationships. Perhaps it’s also new to them, seeing you in that light. I suppose they don’t know you all that much. It’s a nice change being able to engage with you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ah, well, it’s just during the company events that you attended, it wasn’t exactly hard to spot you,” you chuckle, seemingly comfortable now.
“And why is that so?” 
He turns to you, legitimately curious because he’d never really noticed you before, even if he knew you as Hoseok’s assistant. If he’s being honest, you didn’t even look familiar when you first met, and that just reinforces the fact that Jungkook didn’t really care for the other people around him, especially during those events he was required to fly to Seoul to attend. If he’d paid a bit more attention, maybe he wouldn’t have been caught off guard when he did finally meet you. Maybe he wouldn’t have been as rude, too.
“If I may, sir, it was quite easy to spot one of the Jeon sons always at the bar,” you chuckle. “Your father and cousin would often look for you and you were always in the same spot.”
You’d noticed him, Jungkook thinks to himself. He wonders what you’d thought about him then, but given how he hated those events, it probably wouldn’t be something good. He just always couldn’t wait to leave. 
“Ah. As you can tell, I’m not one who likes to socialize,” he says. “I don’t really know what to talk to people about. And I’m not that good with names nor faces. It was easier to keep to myself.”
“That’s understandable. But you already know that’ll have to change,” you remind him. “Half of what Mr. Jung did was attend events.”
“I know. He’s been preparing me for that. I need your help in that aspect, too, from remembering names to getting my energy up. Those are oddly what I’m most nervous about, if I’m being honest.”
“I’ll do what I can, Mr. Jeon,” you assure him. “I hope I can make things easy for you.”
You’ll never know the irony of your words, and perhaps the push and pull it brings about - as you try to make things easy for him, the harder it actually becomes on his end. 
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You find yourself back at the tailor shop the next Thursday for Jungkook’s suit fitting, and if it wasn’t for Taehyung telling you that your gowns are ready, you would have totally forgotten that you had some dresses made as well. 
While Jungkook tries on his outfits, you’re instructed to choose several dress shirts that he’d be adding to his wardrobe, given the various functions he’d be attending from now on. You didn’t anticipate for this to be part of your role, but you don’t mind, as it’s a welcome change to what you normally do, which is attend meetings, bury yourself in paperwork, and everything else in between. At least you’ll be visiting the venue for the Arts Center event tomorrow, but today, you focus on the task at hand, which turns out to be harder than expected.
The options are endless. It doesn’t help that you have to envision Jungkook in each piece of clothing and that he looks good in every one of them, and that you have to imagine him at all. You see him everyday - and have seen him in as little as in just his gym shorts - and you don’t really want to have him in your mind as well. But how he presents himself is a big part of his new role, as Hoseok had told you. As the Vice President, Jungkook needs to look sophisticated and respectable, someone worthy to represent the company and the Jeon family name. 
You go for different hues of grays and blacks and other colors, too. There’s an olive green that looks really nice, and a few maroons and pinks that would add variety to his everyday look. You’re focused on making your choices, but your focus shifts to Jungkook when he comes out of the dressing room donned in a patterned  black suit. The fit is perfect and even with the distance between you two, you could spot impeccable details that make the outfit look elegant yet fresh. 
“This is for the gala,” Taehyung states. “What do you think, Ms. Cho?”
“It looks nice” is all you manage to say. 
It’s the only word you feel is neutral enough to describe him. Even if you could accept that Jungkook is handsome, you don’t exactly want to say so in front of him.
“I was going for something better than nice, but that should be fine, I guess. What do you think, Kook?”
“I like it. But don’t you think the sleeves are a bit too fit on my arms?” Jungkook asks his friend.
“Well, it’s not like you were flexing them when I was measuring you,” Taehyung playfully rolls his eyes. “But I can adjust it, since I doubt you’d take a pause on lifting weights anyway. It’s probably the material though so don’t worry, I’ll fix this. Okay, on to the next one.”
You return to your task at hand, choosing some patterned tops that are appropriate for less formal events, and you inform Taehyung who then says that he’ll have those made in Jungkook’s measurements. With your task finished, Taehyung instructs you to head downstairs so you could fit your gowns as well, and you follow in anticipation because these might just be the first and only custom-made pieces of clothing you’ll ever have the luxury of wearing.
A female staff assists you, making sure that the length and neckline are to your liking. The first outfit, the one for the Arts Center event, is an old rose sleeveless lace midi dress that looks even more gorgeous when worn. The gown for the Appointment Dinner is a black short-sleeved pleated piece that is both functional and fashionable, but it’s the last one - the one for the gala - that has your jaw dropping to the ground.
“Ms. Cho,” you hear Taehyung call out from outside the fitting room. “Is everything okay?”
“Y-yeah,” you stutter, unable to stop looking at yourself in the mirror and turning around to try to see every angle of the stunning dress. “It’s just, uh…”
“It’s what?” He asks worriedly. “Can you come outside so I can see?” 
You take a breath before pulling the heavy curtains open and find Taehyung and Jungkook standing not far away.
“It’s too pretty, Mr. Kim,” you say shyly. “I don’t think I can wear this.”
“Well, you will. Because it’s custom-made,” he points out. “And it looks gorgeous on you. It fits perfectly. I assume the others do as well?”
“Yes,” you smile, feeling like a fairytale princess who gets to wear a gown that her fairy godmother had made for her. “They’re just…”
“Exactly what you need as this guy’s right hand woman,” Taehyung finishes for you.
He gestures towards his best friend who seems expressionless and probably unimpressed by how you look. It’s not like you mind but it at least wouldn’t be humiliating if he just stood there looking uninterested.
“What do you think, Kook?”
“It looks nice,” Jungkook shrugs, repeating the words you’d used on him earlier. Shifting his gaze from you to Taehyung, he excuses himself. “I’ll head to the car, I have calls to make.”
“I’ll finish up here,” you say, turning around to go back to the fitting room.
Jungkook exits the shop and finally breathes, feeling like he’d suffocated inside because of how you looked. He’d wondered how the dresses turned out, curious about the designs because Taehyung didn’t want to show him; it’s a surprise, the man had said. And now Jungkook knows why. 
Stunning would be an inadequate word to use. The burgundy color of the gown made it look sophisticated on you, even more with the off-shoulder that showed off some of your features that he’d rather not think about. The flow was elegant, and he half wishes that he hadn’t thought of having these made only so he could avoid the moment earlier when he felt his throat dry up because of how beautiful you looked. 
He’s gonna have to get used to being rendered speechless every time, he thinks, but it’s not like it doesn’t happen everyday, anyway. Every morning that he finds you standing in his kitchen, donning the pencil skirt and blouse ensemble that assistants are recommended to wear, his mind short circuits. There’s something especially fresh and electrifying about you at the start of the day, and he always has to pull himself together and act normal around you without giving himself away. 
He can’t nurture the attraction, after all, even if he’s reminded of it during times like earlier, even more so when he gazes at you and you hold it, letting the tension build unconsciously. Because that’s what happened, as you pulled open the curtains and looked up. He wishes you were too shy to notice how long he had his eyes on you. But it’s why he had to get away. You’re too much for him sometimes, and he doesn’t know if you have any idea of how you affect him.
Jungkook stares at his phone, half hoping that an actual call would come to distract him. But nothing does, and he leans his head back and groans in frustration. What is it about you that makes him absolutely weak in the knees and stupid in the head? 
Back inside, you give Taehyung your address so he can have the gowns delivered to your apartment for your convenience. 
“Thank you again, Mr. Kim,” you say. “I wish I could do your creations justice.”
“You will. It’s in the confidence, so exude it, okay?”
“I’ll try,” you giggle. “Especially since those pieces will pretty much blow the Office of the VP’s budget.”
“Is that what Kook said? That these are budgeted under him?” Taehyung arches an eyebrow.
“Uh, yes, sort of. I just assumed because he’d pointed out that they were being made as part of my functions,” you explain. 
“Hmm. I know his office has a lot of money but these gowns would definitely blow up any contingency fund you have,” he chuckles. “So no, your assumption is wrong. Kook’s paying for all this.”
“What?” You exclaim. “But that’s— why?”
“Well, you do need these as part of your job, and he wanted to save you the inconvenience of spending for them. I mean, he did buy Lucas some suits, too. But between you and me, I think this is his way of apologizing to you, just in a very gallant way.”
“You mean unnecessary and undeserving,” you correct, still in shock that Jungkook is paying for all those, even if yes, he can easily afford them. 
“Nope, not at all. I know he’s been difficult to deal with and I’d like to apologize on his behalf, seeing that he’s terrible at doing it. I know it doesn’t make things better but at least it’s something you don’t have to worry about anymore.”
“Well, that does help a bit,” you smile, following him as he heads out the door. “But thank you again, Mr. Kim.”
“Off with the formalities,” he laughs. “It’s Taehyung. And you’re welcome. It’s the least I could do to somehow make up for my ass of a best friend.” 
“He’s not too bad. Not anymore, at least,” you counter. “I’ll go ahead. Have a good day, Taehyung!”
Jungkook manages to look down on his phone in time for you not to see him watch you talk freely and casually with his friend. That’s another person close to him who gets to experience how you’re like - joyful and warm, perhaps a little shy sometimes, but comfortable just the same. It’s something he’ll only see from afar; your positions necessitate some distance, but perhaps that’s better than not having you around at all. 
You enter the car and you’re back to being quiet and reserved, your eyes focused on the road while Jungkook, in an effort not to keep glancing at you, turns to his leather notebook and doodles some designs that pop in his head. It’s his way of calming himself down most days, helping him focus given that his mind is often filled with too many thoughts that he can’t express. He hopes that in drawing them, he can somehow rid himself of the feelings he’s locked in and it helps, as he’s somehow able to get over the tension from earlier and the tiniest bit of jealousy over your casual engagement with Taehyung.
You both return to the office, with Jungkook proceeding to his room to prepare for a lunch meeting and you follow, taking some signed documents that he’d left earlier.
“Mr. Jeon,” you say as he settles in his seat. “Thank you for the dresses. I… I’ve never had anything as beautiful as those and undeserving as I may feel, I’m just really appreciative.”
Jungkook isn’t prepared for the softness in your voice as you say the words, and like the consistent jerk that he is, he brushes it off.
“Taehyung made them; you should thank him. I just paid for them,” he utters, his tone stern and uncaring.
His eyes flit to you when there’s silence on your end, and he wishes they hadn’t. There’s resignation in yours, as if he’s shattering another moment you’re creating where you’re just being sincere and he’s being dismissive. It’s his default, he reasons, not just towards you but towards everyone. Normally he wouldn’t mind how the other would take it, but with you right now, he wishes he was so much better than this. 
You hold his gaze, as if trying to tell him things you don’t want to express. He’s not one to apologize, but he also won’t accept gratitude. You’re starting to think that what Jungkook can’t handle is any form of human connection. It’s something you struggle with at times, but you’re at least open to it, willing to accept kindness and appreciating people for what they have to offer. Jungkook deflects; he turns away. It seemed like it took so much for him to even verbalize needing your help and perhaps he was desperate; his reputation was on the line after all. But even then, he doesn’t give nor does he accept, and you wonder what made him that way. 
“Is there anything else?” He finally asks after a long beat of silence. 
“Nothing more,” you shake your head and excuse yourself. 
Returning to your desk, you look at Jungkook from your seat. There’s a hint of emptiness in his eyes that you often mistake for apathy. Perhaps there’s more and perhaps the help he really needs isn’t just about dealing with his father or remembering names or navigating relationships required for his role. Maybe it’s about opening himself up a little, or smiling when the situation calls for it, or not questioning other people’s kindness towards him. Maybe it’s about realizing he’s more than just this heir to the company or the playboy he’s known as. Maybe it’s about seeing that he’s capable of sincerity and gentleness as well.
You sigh to yourself. It’s probably a long shot but you only feel strongly about it because you know what it’s like to turn people away. If it hadn’t been for your family and friends, you probably would’ve continued to do so. Jungkook may be your boss but he’s human, too, and he may just be waiting around to see who’d be patient enough to extend a hand and let him know that he’s not alone, that someone understands, and maybe that someone is you.
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The days fly by too quickly for your liking and you haven't been able to take a breath. You had a meeting with the organizing committee of the Appointment Dinner most of last Friday and you spent your weekend coordinating with the designers for the Arts Center launch. It’s been last minute preparations these past two days and before you know it, Wednesday has come. You stayed late the night before and were gladly checked in at the hotel with the other assistants, so you at least got a bit of sleep even if your body felt like it continued to stay awake. 
But tonight is important, as the newly appointed executives will be formally introduced to the corporation’s directors, shareholders, and subsidiary companies. You’ve been organizing this with the planning committee since the appointments were announced, and given that coordinating events like this is one of your primary tasks, you’re exhausted and excited and nervous all at once. But it’s the second time you’re doing this and you’ve learned so much since you did this for Hoseok. There’s more knowledge, sure, but there’s also more confidence. You also know enough to eat before the guests arrive and at 3PM, it’s exactly what you do, knowing you won’t have much else until the event ends.
The other employees compliment your dress, and you’re too shy to say who had designed it but you eventually do, knowing it’s good for Taehyung’s brand. But you don’t say much else, choosing instead to focus on the guest list as you’re tasked to do, and you go around the events hall to make sure that the VIP name cards are placed on their proper tables. You’re able to sneak bites of the canapes as you go, allowing yourself a flute of champagne for that kick you need to socialize with the guests tonight. 
You engage with the early birds when they arrive, guiding them to their seats and putting on your most welcoming smile. You get Mr. Ri’s message that they’re nearby, so you head outside and stand by the entrance and wait for them, knowing Jungkook would want to know how things are going.
He exits the car in a black suit and white top, a statement brooch adorning his classic coat. The strands of his long hair are tucked behind his ears and he looks even more polished than usual, a look that catches attention; it definitely catches yours. 
“Mr. Jeon,” you bow in greeting. “Some of your invited guests have arrived.” 
“Have you spoken to them?” He asks, as you walk slightly behind him towards the venue. 
“I have, and they’re looking forward to seeing you.” 
He nods, and just as he’s about to enter the hall, he stops and turns towards you. 
“You’re busy tonight, aren’t you?”
“Somewhat, sir,” you reply. “We all have our tasks but I’m free to move around. Do you need help with anything?”
“Just, uh, names.”
“I’ll always be nearby,” you assure him. 
Your smile gives him the comfort he needs. He’s been without it since yesterday afternoon, given that you had to prepare as part of the organizing committee. And while the support team and Yoongi have been encouraging, only you really know why every event such as this is important for him. 
Jungkook has already made gains with some of the Board members last week; this time, it’s about engaging everyone else - the staff, the partners, and key personalities in the industry. Hoseok and Ji-woo have done this before but it’s Jungkook’s first time. He’s no longer just an executive in the Southeast Asian office; he’s now the Vice President of the entire company. There’s a lot of pressure that comes from carrying the Jeon family name, and even more being the only one of the two sons who’s taking on such an important role. 
The event hall is grand. It’s pretty special, too. It’s one of the projects he worked on as part of the design department years ago before he left for Singapore, and the thought makes him stop. Perhaps this is the reason why his father chose this venue for tonight; if anything, it’s a reminder of what Jungkook is capable of. He takes a breath and looks around to soak everything in before approaching his invited guests - partners and consultants he worked with in his previous role. 
But that ends quickly, as many more people approach him for a greeting. 
Jungkook is a bit overwhelmed. He tries to hold eye contact when he speaks to them but he can only do so for so long. Some faces are familiar but the names escape him, and he starts to regret all the times that he flew here for events like this and never engaged with the other guests. If he had, perhaps this wouldn’t be so hard. 
There are those who introduce themselves, while there are those who don’t, perhaps assuming that he’d know who they are. Just like the couple who’s speaking to him excitedly, and he wants to return the energy by at least calling them by their names. His mind is blank, and just as he’s about to give up, he looks up and sees you, your eyes catching his as if you’re just waiting for his cry for help. 
There’s pleading in his eyes and you get it immediately, as you walk towards his direction then greet the pair next to him.
“Mr. and Mrs. Yamada,” you say. “It’s lovely to see both of you again. I saw in the news that you’re launching a new project with our partners from Dubai. That’s quite exciting.”
“Ah, Ms. Cho,” they greet you back. “Yes, all thanks to Mr. Jung who helped us with that partnership. We’re excited for it as well.”
“Oh, I’m sure. We’re looking forward to it,” you smile.
“Thank you. I’m pleased to know that you remain as the Vice President’s assistant,” Mrs. Yamada says. “Perhaps we can invite Mr. Jeon to one of our hotels in Japan? Or even in London?”
You turn to Jungkook who looks less tense than he did a few minutes ago.
“Ah, yes, that would be great, Mr. and Mrs. Yamada,” he responds. “I’m sure I’ll find time during one of my trips and I’ll definitely give you a call. Perhaps we can talk about projects we can work on as well.”
The excitement in the couple’s faces is a joy to see and for their sake, you really do wish that Jungkook makes good on his promise. You ask him about it after they leave, and he says that the names were familiar. Ji-woo’s talked about working with them before and that they’re long-time friends of the family, so he should maintain that relationship. 
A call of his name prompts both of you to look to the side, and he turns to you with a questioning face. 
“Mr. Adam’s an investor. Behind him is Professor Zhang from SNU. They’re friends of your father,” you tell him. Seeing Bitna signal for you, you say, “I have to check on something, Mr. Jeon. I’ll be back.”
You turn around to head to one of the tables, but you look back to watch Jungkook greet those who approach him, his smile becoming more natural as the moments pass by. You briefly meet with some staff about the musical guest and some other last minute adjustments. You greet Taehyung and Seokjin who show up to support their best friend, with both men complimenting how you look.
Knowing that Jungkook will be needing you again after, you call over Do-hyun and Yohan and delegate some of your monitoring tasks to them, and then stand by one of the tables as you watch the socialization take place as more guests come in.
Your eyes find Jungkook again as he’s engaged in a conversation with some Board members and other partners, and you smile a little at how he’s able to maintain eye contact and look like he’s actually interested, especially after he looks up and gives you a look as if to say that he’s trying his best. 
“Why are you watching him like some child who’s trying to make friends at the playground?” Chin-sun asks, the teasing tone of her voice making you chuckle. “He’s a grown man, you know? He can hold his own.”
“I know,” you reply, turning to her. “But it’s one of the many things that’s new about his role. And probably one of the more important ones. I just wanna let him know that he’s doing a good job.”
“Well, there’s no wife or girlfriend to do that. I guess that makes it your responsibility then.”
You disregard her comment’s implication and point out that Hoseok does that for Jungkook, too, but he’s just as busy and perhaps just as nervous as well. 
“It matters a lot to hear it. Plus, social events can be overwhelming and isolating at the same time. He’s still getting used to it,” you add.
The prolonged silence prompts you to turn to her.
“You know, I admire you for a lot of things,” she says. “Your ability to remain kind after everything is one of them. I mean, after how he treated you those first few weeks? That was tough.”
Your resigned face pushes her to continue. “Do-hyun could’ve gone on without telling me about seeing you cry and I still would’ve known. You tried to hide it but your smile always fell too fast and your eyes were just always sad. Must’ve been hard, trying to get the team on his side when you couldn’t do that for yourself.”
“I honestly don’t know how I survived that first month,” you laugh to mask the sadness from that experience. “But that’s in the past. He still has his moments but at least there are good ones now. I’m here to do my job. Being kind after everything is part of it.”
“I wish you didn’t have to keep it to yourself though,” she laments. “If we couldn’t help, we could’ve at least cheered you up.”
“I didn’t want to bring you guys into it,” you say. “The team was incredibly busy with so many things and I managed. That’s what matters.”
“Oh, ___,” she sighs. “You put so much of yourself in your job. I think that’s why the bosses trust you. But that takes so much out of you, too. Do you have anything left for yourself?”
“What’s left is right here, Chin-sun. I don’t think I know what I am outside of all this.”
“Doesn’t that bother you? I mean, I’ve worked with you for three years and I can’t say I really know you outside of this, too. And if you can’t… well, that’s something to think about.”
“And I have. It’s something I’ve asked myself, but trying to find the answer isn’t as easy as asking the question. So I just put all my energy into my work because where else would I? It at least pays the bills and lets me enjoy little luxuries every once in a while,” you reason. 
“Well, I know what learning who you are outside of this job would entail, and I’m a little selfish because I need you around,” she smiles. “No one does things the way you do, and that’s also why I figured that at some point, Mr. Jeon was gonna get himself together because he can’t afford to lose you. You’re so good at this, ___. He’s lucky you didn’t quit.”
“Apparently, it takes a lot to get me to quit,” you reply. 
Or I was just never brave enough to do it, you want to say. Asking the question is indeed always easier than finding the answer. 
“Let’s hope you find a way to find yourself without resigning. We can’t afford to lose you, too,” she winks. 
“I appreciate that, Chin-sun. Thank you.”
“Well, I think it matters that you know that you’re doing amazing. I hope he treats you as you deserve.”
He tries, you think to yourself. At least that’s what you hope. 
The call of your names from a familiar voice excites you, as A-yeong approaches you and Chin-sun. You engage in your usual hushed conversations until you see Jungkook in another sea of people and you decide to approach him, the relief on his face telling you that he’s indeed been needing you. 
It’s not your preferred crowd. Something you’ve learned in your years of attending these events is that you would smile and entertain them and men would think it’s an invitation to invade your personal space. A lingering touch on the elbow, a hand on your waist, standing a millimeter too close… and they disregard your uncomfortable look or attempts at stepping away. 
The man you’re introduced to is new but his ways aren’t, and you scan the hall to find Bitna who turns to you in time, the look you give her signaling another person to look out for. It’s a system they developed that they’ve filled you in on, and you immediately excuse yourself and check on the food served at the back even if you know they’re still well stocked. It at least allows you a breather. You’re not even a main actor but you’re tired as hell from socializing with people. 
It’s not long after when the event starts. Speeches and a performance take place while dishes are being put out, and it’s after the main course is served when Jungkook steps away from his seat. 
Choosing to stand towards the back before he’s called on stage to be introduced, he scans the hall and thinks about the work that the committee put in, including you, who had to deal with him while dealing with all this. He catches sight of you speaking with the other assistants, and he already knows there’s some planning going on. But like the last time, he felt you around even if you were busy; you held his gaze during the times he felt a little overwhelmed. 
“You ready?”
Yoongi’s voice is deep but calming, and Jungkook takes it as his friend’s way of encouraging him. 
“Not really, but I’ll manage.” 
“Good. You’ve got people on your side,” Yoongi assures him. “Like me. And especially her.”
He gestures towards the left where Jungkook sees you approaching them. Since you started working for him, he didn’t expect how easily he could find comfort in your presence. He went from wishing you were someone else, to wanting to distance himself from you, to constantly hoping you were around. Those last two could actually coexist, and they do. There’s still detachment as his means to combat the attraction - he tries not to care about you, to not get to know you, to remind himself of who you are in his life, but he still depends on you for support, for comfort, for stability. You make his life easier; you also make it feel less lonely. And every time you’re there is a moment where he feels like he could breathe, like the noise in his mind stills because he’s forced to focus on you; somehow, you captivate him that way. 
“Are you ready, Mr. Jeon?”
The contrasting tenderness of your voice gives him that boost and he nods despite the lingering nervousness.
“I guess so,” he huffs. “Let’s get this over with.”
He walks towards his seat up front while you stay behind with Yoongi who leads you to one of the free tables at the back. You both don’t say much to each other, focusing instead on the short speeches that Ji-woo and Hoseok give, both of them expressing their gratitude and giving previews of upcoming projects to look forward to. They’re masters at commanding a crowd, as evidenced by their engagement and loud applause at the end of it. You can already imagine Jungkook feeling even more nervous, knowing that’s not really his style, but you hope that your earlier encouragement lingers, as he walks towards the stage.
He delivers his speech flawlessly. Knowing him the way you do, you could tell he let his vulnerability shine through, even if it may not seem much to everyone else. The teaser about the Arts Center gets people excited, which he builds up on. He even slides in a few jokes that surprisingly get the audience entertained. 
A small smile paints your face and from next to you, Yoongi chuckles in almost disbelief. 
“Is it safe to say you’re proud of him?” He asks, as Jungkook walks down the stage and CEO Jeon takes the mic. 
“You could say that,” you turn to him. “It’s silly, considering how things started. I… I didn’t think I’d be genuinely rooting for him, you know? But I am. I really want him to do well.”
“That’s good to hear, ___. I guess it means that things really are changing and he’s treating you better.”
“I think they are,” you hum. “I mean, not the best, but I also don’t know what that’s supposed to look like. I guess I’m just understanding who he is a little bit better now. And I think that makes the difference.”
“Like I said, he’s not a terrible person. He just needs… someone to be patient with him, someone to show him kindness,” Yoongi says. “I think that’s what he lost along the way. He stopped being that way to himself and so did people. They just didn’t want to upset him, but they also didn’t give or show anything more.”
“You think so?”
“Why do you think it’s so hard for him to forge even the simplest and most basic connections?” Yoongi questions. “They lack meaning for him. I think he’s forgotten what that’s like. Without sincerity or kindness, without intensity or honesty, there’s just… emptiness. Everything is fleeting for him.”
“And you’re telling me this, why?” You eye him curiously. 
“Because I think your kindness did something to him.”
“And that is?”
“He’s showing a bit of that to himself, too. And I guess to others as well,” Yoongi explains. 
“I’m a mere assistant doing her job, Yoongi,” you shake your head. “It’s a little selfish but I do what I can to appease him and to make our relationship good enough to make this job bearable for me. If it makes him a better person, good for him and better for me. I’ll just keep doing it then.”
Your friend’s silence prompts you to turn towards him. He seems to be in deep thought, perhaps analyzing what you’d just said, which he tends to do. 
There’s no lie in your statement. You’d done your part of standing up to Jungkook at the start; you at least got to show you were capable of fighting for yourself in that sense. But after that, you learned that keeping things in and letting him see how his actions affect you works as well. You show kindness because it’s natural for you, but also because it keeps the peace, it keeps both of you stable. 
But you can also admit that you do all that because wanting him to know that he’s got you on his side is a way to tell yourself that you’ve got people rooting for you, too, even if you’re not the best at keeping relationships nor keeping people close. You show Jungkook what you want to experience from people; you make him feel what you want to feel. Maybe that makes you selfish. You think it also makes you human.
It’s not something you tell Yoongi, though. But maybe with the way he looks at you assuringly, you suppose he knows it, too.
The event finally ends and the guests start exiting the venue. You bid them goodbye while instructing some in-house staff about cleaning up. Mr. and Mrs. Jeon greet you on their way out, commending you for your work along with the others, and it’s their encouraging smiles that remind you of one of the reasons why you stick to this job. They’re people you don’t want to disappoint as well, and seeing them satisfied is always a good thing. 
“Hey, you’re officially off the clock,” Bitna reminds you. “A couple of us are staying for closing, remember?”
“Right,” you smile. 
They have a day off tomorrow because of tonight but it’s not something you can afford, given that you’ve got the Arts Center event one a week from now. It’s almost midnight and you’d have to be up in 5 hours.
“I’ll get going then. I’ll just say goodbye to— oh, Mr. Jeon,” you say, finding him just as you were about to look for him. “Is there anything I can help you with before I leave?”
“Oh, there’s nothing. Just, uh, how are you getting home?”
“A cab,” you answer. 
Yoongi nudges your arm from next to you with a pout on his face. “Yah! I’ll take you home. It’s not safe to take a cab this late.”
“Yes, that’s preferable, Ms. Cho,” Jungkook says. “It’s been a long night.”
“Okay, sir,” you nod. “And it has. You also did really well. I didn’t expect the jokes but they were obviously a hit. Yoongi laughed, that’s how I know.”
“You laughed, too,” Yoongi points out.
“I’m glad it worked, then,” Jungkook says. “You can get going. You can also report to my place at 8AM to give you more time to rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jungkook heads out and rushes to the car where Mr. Ri drives him home. His mind is still buzzing from what transpired but he’s glad he managed like he said he would, like you believed he would. 
And amidst the relief that he did well and the nervousness from having to do something similar again next week, there’s you, a vision that he quickly shakes off and one he finds himself seeing after every big and small thing that he does. 
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Your warm shower and your bed have never felt this good, only because you’re as tired as you are and you want nothing more than the weekend to come. But you’ve got a few more stressful days ahead of you and you try to push through them one at a time.
You go to Jungkook later than usual that Thursday then spend much of the entire day meeting with him and the team about next week’s event. You conduct a visit to the venue the next day and then spend the weekend answering guests’ queries and helping Chin-sun coordinate with suppliers. Monday and Tuesday have you going from one place to another and hopping from one meeting to the next, all while balancing your executive assistant and events manager responsibilities. 
It’s incredibly tiring, but you also won’t deny the exhilaration you feel. There’s something so satisfying about seeing everything come together, especially as you look around the venue - an industrial commercial space that Jungkook and Yoongi jointly designed specifically for tonight. The high ceilings allow for the large panels that project the Arts Center design, with bright lights Illuminating the curated sculptures and art pieces placed around. The space elicits a feeling of newness and familiarity, of hollowness and clarity. There’s integration of traditional and modern elements and essentially, of history and emergence. 
It leaves you quite breathless as you look around. It’s not even the Arts Center itself but you know that this is the emotion that Jungkook wants the guests to feel. He wants them to be in awe, to look on in excitement. 
“It’s pretty great, huh?” Yoongi asks next to you. “Worth all the hard work.”
“It is. Design and logistics did amazing in putting this together,” you say, given that you’ve spent the entire day working with both teams to set this up.
“Well, Jungkook’s vision is captivating to begin with. It really makes a difference when you’re led by a creative mind. Selling the idea won’t be so hard in a place like this.”
“I really hope so. We’re banking on the artists for exposure. There are gonna be articles about it, too. The whole process is being documented and that makes the final product much more exciting,” you explain. “I… I actually feel really good being a part of this. I’m glad I didn’t quit after that first week.”
Yoongi laughs along with you, knowing now that that experience no longer bothers you the way it used to. But he’s glad about it, too, not only because he selfishly wants you around but even more, he knew that you needed this, that you needed to feel redeemed in Jungkook’s eyes and in yours. Yoongi hopes that as the project goes on, you’ll learn more about yourself and what you want, what you’re good at, what you can give, and what makes you happy. 
“That makes both of us. I’m sure Jungkook thinks so, too,” Yoongi replies.
“Well, we’ll never know because he’ll probably never admit it but it’s a good thought,” you smile. “As long as we maintain this unproblematic dynamic, I’m good.”
“Speaking of which, where is he?”
“On the way,” you say. “He had a meeting to attend and he said he’ll be fixing up here. He should be here in a few minutes.”
Do-hyun approaches you about the photographer and you excuse yourself, instructing Yohan next to her to lead Jungkook to the waiting room when he arrives. 
Jungkook steps into the venue and like he’d hoped, he feels the energy as he takes it all in. There’s a lot of possibility as he looks around, and that’s what he wants the guests to see. He wants the artists to envision their own pieces displayed; he wants the creatives to imagine fashion shows and photo shoots and videos that come to life; he wants people to see the potential of an Arts Center beyond just looking at art pieces.
But underneath the pride is nervousness. There will be important personalities coming today and it’s his opportunity to engage with them, to make them want to be a part of this. Talking about the details of the project would be easy; it’s connecting with them that’s a challenge. He had last week’s Appointment Dinner as a trial and like you said, he did well. It’s tonight that matters so much more to him. He supposes that what happens will set the trajectory for how the promotion of the Center will go, so making a good first impression is crucial. 
Yohan approaches him and leads him towards the waiting room where his outfit, which Taehyung had pressed and sent over here, hangs on a rack. There are two magazine publications that will feature this event and both include an interview with him and some photos. 
Jungkook starts dressing up, knowing he’ll be called for those not long from now. He looks at himself in the mirror and the uncertainty fills him again. It’s not the look he would’ve gone for but his best friend was adamant that an event like this calls for something new. With his trousers and fitted shirt on, Jungkook breathes in and out, and it’s at the same time when there’s a knock on the door and your call of his name suddenly makes him nervous. 
You enter, stopping as you shut the door, your eyes a little wide, and look at him. You’re a sight to behold in your floral-laced dress and if he was anxious seconds ago, he’s even more now.
“I knew I should’ve stuck to the classic,” Jungkook sighs at your unmoving form. 
“What—what do you mean, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, finally finding your voice. 
“You’re not saying anything,” he frowns. “Tonight probably wasn’t the best time to show up in an outfit like this.”
“And why is that?” You wonder, walking closer to him now. You try to calm your racing heart because Jungkook looking this good in a checkered flared trouser and white v-neck shirt was not something you expected. “You look…”
“Pretentious?” He chuckles, shaking his head and bending towards the mirror, his angled body making you feel even hotter.
You’ve long accepted that Jungkook is a very handsome man. It’s probably why it was more frustrating despising him and, like Soomin said, also satisfying. He’s got a perfect mix of boyish and manly features with his doe eyes and chiseled jaw; the aura of confidence and nonchalance perhaps add to that as well. It also doesn’t help that he has a really good physique, something you’d seen on his first day on the job and one you’d denied affected you. You’d gotten used to it somehow. Hard as it was to suppress those thoughts every time you fixed his tie or watched him walk about his penthouse in his gym clothes, you managed. You’ve always been professional, and you’ve always reminded yourself to not let it affect you.
But tonight, it’s just hard not to, especially with the way his biceps are popping out of those short sleeves; and if the shirt were an inch tighter, you’d probably be able to trace his toned chest and abs as well. He’s cut his hair, too, slick and pushed back as if he's starring in some western rockstar film. 
“Good…” you manage to say after what seemed like minutes. “The outfit looks good on you, sir. It’s new and fresh, not like the usual formal attire that screams ‘businessman who only wants profits.’ This is posh and stylish. It makes you look more approachable.”
“This is what would make me look approachable?” He asks incredulously.
“Actually, a smile would,” you say too quickly, earning you a laugh. “But this works, too. It fits with the theme.”
“That’s what Tae said, too,” Jungkook sighs. “He insisted that at least for these Arts Center-related events, I should dress a little more boldly and more interesting, things I definitely am not but, well, I couldn’t counter him when he said that my usual prints and styles make me look like I’m just going to a meeting or some business conference.”
“And he’s not wrong,” you point out, walking closer to him. “You don’t need anything eccentric, just something exciting. This is simple yet sophisticated.”
“Have you seen the coat?” He asks, gesturing to the rack when you say no.
“Oh. There’s a corsage,” you say, admiring the matching brown checkered piece.
“An oversized one,” he rolls his eyes. 
“It looks pretty.”
“That’s what he said, too.”
“If you don’t like it, why didn’t you tell him during the fitting?”
“I did like it but it’s Tae - he’s good at convincing people that they look good. And I probably thought that, too. But he’s not yet here and he’s gonna be late so right now, all I can think about is that I’ll look ridiculous.”
“Well, that makes one of us,” you say, surprising him. “If what I think matters, then you’d have to take my word for it. The outfit looks good. It captures people’s attention and that’s what you need. You’re just gonna have to follow this up with similar styles but that wouldn’t be a problem. Just carry yourself with confidence. It’s what Mr. Kim would say.”
“I know. He texted that same line to me five times today.”
“He’s your best friend, Mr. Jeon. I’m sure he’s looking out for your best interest.”
“True, but then again, we were forced to become friends when we were young so who knows?”
You laugh at his words. “Is that so?”
“Our fathers are best friends so we spent a lot of time together,” Jungkook shares. “We were all so different and we got on each other’s nerves but I guess that made us closer. I… I wasn’t close to my brother so I just stuck with those who stuck around. It’s a good thing they turned out to be decent people.”
“They’re very kind, I should say.”
“Yeah. It sucks that their kindness didn’t rub off on me,” he says as he holds your gaze.
The tension rises as you look back at him. It’s hard not to fall into his eyes, and you’re thankful for the knock on the door and Yohan’s voice on the other side saying that the interviewer is ready for Jungkook now. 
“Five minutes,” you call out, breaking the moment and retrieving his last piece of clothing. 
You assist him in wearing his coat and just like reflex, you immediately fix the sleeves and adjust the corsage that isn’t actually that big. You look at him from head to toe and see Taehyung’s vision. There’s something captivating about Jungkook in this fit; it makes him intriguing and someone to look out for. You suppose that was the intention.
“Respectable enough?” He asks worriedly once you meet his eyes.
“Respectable enough,” you affirm, hoping your smile can give him the encouragement he needs. 
You open the door and let the first set of crew in. You watch on as they interview and take snapshots while your own team from the marketing department capture what’s happening as well. 
Jungkook sits cross-legged on the sofa, his eyes looking out into the distance as he absorbs the questions and thinks of his answers. He gesticulates as he responds, something you noticed him only ever do about topics that seem very important to him. He’s done it during meetings with the team and with Yoongi, and you suppose there’s that level of honesty that he shows then. His responses are thoughtful and profound, as the questions revolve around the type of art pieces to be displayed, how culture can be celebrated and respected, and what the public can look forward to once the Center is open to everyone. 
The next interviewer starts off with the practical questions before moving to the technicalities of the design and structure such as the materials used, the techniques utilized in renovating such a massive complex, and how the Center itself represents art and culture. This is when Jungkook fully relaxes. You see it in his body language, in the softness of his expressions, and in the mellow tone of his voice as he discusses in terms you don’t fully understand but somehow still make you feel like you know exactly what he’s talking about.
It’s different seeing him in this way. Your team vetted these interviewers and publications and they seem sincere about their articles and so you know they aren’t there to judge; Jungkook knows they aren’t there to scrutinize him. He’s not there to impress them or even to sell the idea; he just wants to share it, to make it known, to narrate the process of this project that may still be in its very early stages but which has lived in his mind for years.
He may not always be good with words but you can tell that he finds them when the ideas are clear to him. He’s able to articulate what he sees in his mind and there’s something captivating about that. There’s a lot you can learn from him, you think, and if what you develop after having stayed this long is even just a fraction of his creativity, then you’d feel accomplished. 
You can tell even more now how important this is to him, especially when he emphasizes the individual’s need and desire for connection and how he wants the Center to be a hub for that, or perhaps its creator. You wonder if he knows so much about it, or if, like you, it’s something he also constantly seeks. 
You’re so focused on taking him all in that you don’t notice that you’ve been staring. Your eyes fall on his fingers, waving about as he draws imaginary pictures; they land on his lips, pink and dry as they utter words that are perhaps the most he’s said, and suddenly, his voice is the most comforting it’s ever sounded to you. You look upwards and that’s when you notice it - his eyes are on you just as yours are on him yet he continues talking, and you hold onto it for a few seconds before you feel the heat reach your cheeks. It feels like a burn and you snap out of the spell-like feeling you were caught in as you turn away now and try to catch your breath.
You hadn’t meant to stare but you were drawn to him at that moment, and as he talked about how the designs reflect the tangibility yet elusiveness of human connection, you found yourself drowning in his words and in the way he said them. He’d caught you before you could look away, and you decide that the only way to go about it is to pretend it didn’t happen.
And that’s what you do, as you remain on your spot with your eyes scanning the room, no longer focused on him.
The interview ends right as Chin-sun enters to say that some guests have arrived. You instruct her to entertain them first with Manager Lee as you wrap up in here and it’s not long after when you’re left with Jungkook once again.
“Was that good?” He asks, his gaze on you as you look elsewhere.
“It was. You seemed more relaxed,” you state, unnecessarily fixing the couch to distract yourself. “That’s a good way to start the evening, Mr. Jeon. I’m sure the guests would enjoy speaking with you tonight.”
“That’s what I hope,” he replies. “I’ll need you close to me to keep track of scheduled meetings or any invitations. I’d also like them to be familiar with you as my assistant so they know who to reach out to in case I’m not available.”
“Of course, sir,” you say, turning around to face him again, suddenly feeling nervous about the intensity of his look. “I’ll take note of all those.” 
He nods then exits the room and you follow. You trail him as he starts to greet the guests one by one.
There are heads of private foundations and curators. There are creative directors from entertainment agencies and some art enthusiasts. There are artists and authors and poets, all of whom are intrigued and seemingly excited about what’s in store. 
Jungkook heads to the front after being introduced by Manager Lee and takes his time to introduce the project, utilizing the panels and all of the interiors’ walls to showcase the design virtually. He presents his plans and the role of artists, creatives, creators, and consumers. It’s a half hour speech that ends, followed by a light sit-down dinner that Jungkook takes advantage of to engage with the guests. 
He first greets the deputy minister of the arts and culture ministry and then Mr. Saito, who’d likewise brought some of his artist friends from Japan. 
You then follow Jungkook around as instructed, taking notes on your phone in between to list all the upcoming meetings and other activities scheduled on the spot. You’ve somehow developed this skill with Hoseok but it still doesn’t get any easier. The fact that so many of them want to touch base with Jungkook after his pitch says a lot about how well he did and how much it resonated with the people he wanted to connect with. 
Based on your notes, you can already tell it’s gonna be incredibly busy moving forward, and the thought suddenly makes your head hurt. But you push through, knowing there are more people to meet with, even with Chin-sun and Manager Lee entertaining half of them. 
Jungkook takes the stage again to introduce some of the artists whose works will be displayed in the Arts Center, and he gives them time to talk about their pieces and what drew them into the project. The company head who’s been contracted to create the products for the souvenir shop also speaks, and as they share, you feel the excitement heighten. The opening is still a long time from now but things seem so clear and so certain, and you know that was because of Jungkook - because he demands the same level of excellence he practices from others, because he’s committed to his vision and he makes sure to see it through. 
More engagement takes place, and your only breather is when Jungkook decides to talk to his father and then Hoseok but after that, you’re back to following him around and running out of calling cards for people to keep and call you in the future. 
The last of the remaining guests finally leave at 10PM. You look around and the art pieces are being carefully wrapped for transport. The panels remain but Do-hyun and Yohan will be returning in the morning to pack everything up. Slowly, you start to feel the soreness creep in and the headache intensify but you shake all the pain off. There are two more days left for the week and you just have to power through them to survive. 
“You sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” Chin-sun asks as she readies to leave.
“I live on the other side of the city from you. From all of you,” you remind them. It’s really the only reason why you don’t hitch a ride with them, especially considering that they have families and pets they go home to. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”
“What about Yoongi?” Jungkook asks, surprising you because you thought he’d been on the phone. “Can’t he drive you?”
“He left an hour ago, Mr. Jeon,” you reply. “He has that early morning flight to Jeju tomorrow.”
“Mr. Ri can drive you home after he drops me off,” Jungkook says. “It’s too late in the night and it might be hard for you to get a cab.”
“Okay, sir. Thank you,” you mumble, waving everybody goodbye as you follow him towards the car. 
You get inside and find him sitting in the backseat, his coat removed and his head rolled back. You can tell all the socializing drained his energy again, and you’d hate to remind him that there’s a Property Expo next week that his father assigned him to attend, as well as a Partners’ Fellowship Dinner where he has to deliver another speech. You decide to do so in the morning instead and let the soft sounds of the radio soothe your mind.
“I think tonight was a success,” he mutters, prompting you to turn towards him. “Everyone I spoke to seemed excited.”
“They were,” you affirm. “They wouldn’t be scheduling meetings with you if they weren’t.”
“That’s true,” he hums. “That’s one major event down and several more to go.”
“I hope the team was able to show you how well we work together, Mr. Jeon. And that like me, they’re all on your side.”
Jungkook lets your words settle. He agrees. The team was like a well-oiled machine. Each member knew their roles and performed their tasks excellently. And there was you, of course, handling every one of his instructions and requests with grace. You looked really beautiful doing it, too, and he doesn’t know if he wants to thank or curse Taehyung for designing another dress that makes you stand out from the crowd because that’s what happened tonight - everywhere Jungkook looked, it seemed like all he could see was you.
He shakes away the thought, knowing that constantly acknowledging his attraction towards you would just make things harder for him the way that denying it would, and while he doesn’t have a solution for that either, he supposes that not acknowledging it at all would be the best option. 
So he focuses on the team instead, and he feels comforted to know that they worked hard because they knew how much tonight mattered to him, as Do-hyun expressed earlier. 
“I’m glad they are,” he finally replies. “I… I still don’t think I’m their favorite person but as long as they don’t despise me anymore, then I’m satisfied with that.”
“They don’t,” you counter, although even you’d know that’s a half-lie.
“They do. Or did, at least,” he laughs dryly. “It’s easy to stay unnoticed outside of the team’s office, you know?”
The tinge of sadness in his eyes confirms what you’re thinking - he’s heard some of the team conversations about him. And while you’d argue that they’re not vile or anything close to that, you also know that talking about him not smiling or not expressing his gratitude are things you shouldn’t be saying behind his back. Even if they’re true.
“I”m so, so sorry, Mr. Jeon. We–”
“It’s okay, it’s not a big deal,” he interjects. “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t given you reasons to feel that way. You all did go from Hoseok to me and that’s quite the downgrade in terms of camaraderie and stuff.”
“We still didn’t have the right to say those things. And no, I’m not agreeing that you’re a downgrade,” you clarify. “Like you said, you and your cousin are very different.”
“I did. And that’s why I’m not surprised, is all I’m saying. But despite all that, the team did amazing tonight. Not like I’d expect they wouldn’t because they prefer someone more joyful or expressive, but it… it was also nice to see them enjoying themselves. I hope you did, too.”
“It was a memorable experience, Mr. Jeon,” you say. “It’s something new. The previous projects and events we handled were either residential or commercial in nature and our creativity wasn’t pushed as far as the Arts Center is doing. And we all appreciate that, even if we may not show it.”
“That’s good. At least there’s still something that you’re all getting out of this.”
There’s a sadness in his voice that you’re hearing for the first time. You don’t know what about tonight that’s making him vulnerable and honest with you. Perhaps it’s all the talk about human connection that he seems to struggle with, and maybe he’s realizing now that even with the team performing as well as they are, there’s still something lacking in soul and emotion that he thinks is because of him. 
Whatever it is, you hope that he doesn’t let it bring him down too much. Working closely with him, you’ve come to see more of him despite his efforts to keep those layers unpeeled and you’ve come to understand him a little more. You’ve forgiven him in the process, too. The team is still adjusting and you know it’s your job to bridge that gap. You’ll just have to figure out how. 
You let the silence end the conversation, not knowing what else you can say to comfort him at this moment. But you try though, as the car stops in front of his building and you call his name right before he closes the door.
“Yeah?” He asks, looking curiously at you. 
You almost forget what you’re about to say as he’s bent forward, his arm propped on the car roof, the surrounding lights highlighting the features of his face. 
“You did great tonight, too. And I learned a lot from you. Thank you for guiding us, sir.”
He’s left speechless, as he holds your gaze for a moment before nodding and closing the door. Mr. Ri drives away and you look back to see Jungkook walk slowly towards the building entrance, briefly looking your way before disappearing inside. 
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You arrive at the office the next morning at 9AM with a splitting headache, your body dragging itself towards your chair as you try to maintain balance and get yourself together. Jungkook had messaged late last night that he was going to have a breakfast meeting with his father so you could go straight to work, and given last night’s late finish, you could come at a later time as well.
That gave you another two hours of sleep, which you were thankful for considering the terrible state you were in when you woke up. Your body felt sore and the dryness of your throat signaled that you’re about to get sick - it was just a matter of when it was going to fully kick in. It’s how your body reacts to stress, a pattern you noticed since you started working in the company. It’s usually after succeeding weeks of late nights and big events when you give in - the headaches start then the sore throat; not long after, the fever hits and you’d have to spend days just doing nothing until you’ve expelled the exhaustion away. 
On rare occasions, your mother or friends come, knowing you’d be too sick to make yourself some food. But they don’t always have that luxury. They have their own lives, too, lives that they just happen to have far away from you. But it’s why it mattered that you gave Jungkook that noodle soup when he was unwell. You know what it’s like to be sick and hungry and completely helpless, and you had a feeling that just like yourself, he’d deal with it on his own. You’ll probably have to stock up on food tonight to get you through the next few days; you just hope you haven’t completely fallen apart by then.
You take your medicines and try to focus on your tasks for this morning, scheduling meetings and screening photos from last night to be used for marketing purposes. Needing some tea, you head to the pantry and briefly check in with the team before heading back. You see that Jungkook has just arrived, as he accompanied his father to one of their project sites after their meeting. He calls you over and asks if Do-hyun and Yohan have come back from fixing things at last night’s venue.
“Yes, sir, they just got here,” you reply. “Everything’s been stored properly and Chin-sun’s working on the payments already.”
“Good,” Jungkook responds. “It’s lunchtime though, so you should all grab a meal. There’s a French restaurant that just opened a block from here. I heard it’s got great reviews, so take the team there and have them order anything they want. You can just use your card to pay but it’s under the office’s budget.”
“Okay, sir. Uhm, that sounds great,” you manage to say, excitement filling you because you spent the other night watching review videos of that restaurant on YouTube and immediately told Jimin and Soomin that you’ll be eating there when they visit you the next time. “What about you though? Aren’t you joining us?”
“I… Well…”
“You don’t have any other scheduled meeting other than the one we’ll have as a team at 2:30.”
“I don’t have to go,” he answers. “You all worked hard and deserve to enjoy yourselves and I don’t think that’ll happen if I’m around. We can all debrief during the meeting but lunch is your time to get together and bond as a group.”
“You’re part of that group, too, Mr. Jeon. You are our boss,” you counter.
“Exactly.”
“But Mr. Ju–” you stop, not wanting to draw another comparison, which you said you’ll stop doing.
“I know. Hoseok would join you for lunch or dinner and the team enjoyed his presence,” Jungkook states. “I don’t think that’s the case with me. This isn’t me putting myself down but… you know that I don’t really… do things like that. I’m still learning that part of the role and I don’t want to spoil their fun.”
“You can’t really speak for the team though,” you point out.
“Well, you represent them to me. Am I wrong to assume all that?”
“No, but I think it would be a good opportunity to prove to them otherwise,” you advise.
Jungkook sighs, knowing you’ve got a point. But he insists, claiming that he’s still figuring out the team and how to relate with them. 
“I understand, Mr. Jeon,” you concede. “How about your lunch?”
“I’ll manage. You can all go ahead so you can get back on time.”
“We will. Thank you. I already know they’re going to enjoy it.”
The team is ecstatic when you tell them about lunch plans. They also only wonder about Jungkook’s presence once they’ve ordered and perhaps they’re still figuring him out, too. Much of their engagement with Jungkook is through meetings, as none of them, save for Manager Lee, feel comfortable or even free enough to just approach him. They also don’t know much about his interests or his quirks, and that puts you in the same boat as them. 
You said once that you’re not sure if you’ve gotten used to him already. Maybe slowly you are, as you look around and wish that he was here to experience this, too. Somehow you just think he’d love the duck confit dish that you eventually order for yourself. Maybe you can let him know, and he can order it on his own time. 
Lunch ends with everyone on a high from the delicious meal. Even you forget how terrible you’re actually feeling and let the laughs and scrumptious food compensate for the fatigue. 
You get back to the office and head to Jungkook as the rest of the team prepares the conference room for the meeting. You see a half-eaten sandwich on his desk and hate to think that it’s all he had while you enjoyed a fancy lunch that he ordered you all to have. He seems to pick up your thoughts as your eyes flit from him to his food and he affirms you that he’s not that hungry, given the heavy breakfast he had this morning.
“How was lunch?” He asks. 
“It was great. The food was really good. I had the duck confit that I think you’ll like and… uh, they were asking where you were.”
“They were?” 
“Yeah,” you respond. “They were wondering why you didn’t join us.”
“What did you say?”
“That you were on a conference call,” you say. You didn’t like that you had to lie to them about it, but you also didn’t want to use that time to talk about Jungkook behind his back again. “Yohan said that it’s understandable; you’re always busy and he doubts you get a break while you’re here.”
“Oh. Well, he’s not wrong.”
“We had a good time though, and I’m sure they’ll tell you later but thank you. It’s nice seeing the team enjoy themselves. I wish you could see it, too.”
“Maybe one day,” he says sullenly, standing up right after to head to the meeting with you.
The room quiets down when you both arrive and Jungkook feels once more the shift in their disposition once he joins them. He can’t fault them for it knowing that’s because of him, but as time passes and the more he talks about the value of human connections - which the Arts Center aims to foster - the more he starts to think of exactly what he’s missing by keeping himself too far a distance from everyone else around him. 
His father tries, he can tell. Most of their breakfast or lunch or dinner meetings aren’t actually meetings, and he supposes it’s just his old man’s way of spending time with him by disguising it as something work-related, knowing that Jungkook wouldn’t be into it if it wasn’t. His mother asks him over to their house on some weekends for lunch, her own way of reconnecting with him after years of being apart, but even with that, Jungkook just gives the bare minimum. 
He doesn’t not like them; he just stopped being close to them at some point and he didn’t really care to mend it as he grew older. The women he sleeps with don’t count since he doesn’t even really talk to them, and other than Taehyung and Seokjin, and occasionally Yoongi, who keep up with his attitude, there really isn’t anyone else whom he thinks enjoys his presence enough to want to have him around. 
He doesn’t know about you though, but he makes an educated guess and thinks there’s not much of him you’d miss just like anyone, and while the thought stings a bit, it’s one he tries to live with.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeon,” Manager Lee greets and implores the others to do the same. “Thank you again for lunch. It was really delicious and pretty fancy. I wish I’d worn a prettier tie than the one I have right now.”
“Your tie looks fine, Manager Lee,” Jungkook replies.
“Ms. Cho said you were busy, that's why you weren’t there,” Do-hyun boldly says. “Hopefully next time you can join us. I mean, not to assume you’ll treat us again, although that would be nice, but–” 
“Do-hyun just wanted to say thank you,” Chin-sun butts in. “And that we understand you have so many things going on, Mr. Jeon, so hopefully, when you have time in the future, you can join us for a meal, too.”
“That, uh, that would be fine, yes,” he mumbles, taking his seat and avoiding looking at everyone except you. “Let’s start the meeting.”
You’re there for over two hours, rehashing the entire process, given that it’s the first event out of many that the team organized. Jungkook is generous in complimenting everyone, including you, and he gives updates on the interest generated and all the artists he’ll be meeting in their respective studios as a result. 
The Ministry of Culture minister likewise pledged support, promising a linkage with the international media festival organizers like Jungkook had hoped. You’ve all accomplished so much in so little time, but the rest of the timeline shows that there’s still so much ground to cover. You plan the next steps and then spend half an hour talking about the other small projects that the VP’s office is managing before Jungkook adjourns the meeting and orders you all to head home to get some rest while he stays behind to work some more.
You follow him this time, trying your best to be stable as you take the bus home. You manage to buy some beef bone soup on the way for dinner, and once that’s all finished and you take a long hot shower to hopefully get rid of the stress in your body, you plop down on your bed and fall asleep with no warning at all. 
You wake up in the middle of the night, your clogged nose keeping you from breathing. With puffy eyes, you search for your eucalyptus inhaler and take your medicine before going back to bed and hoping that when you wake up, you’ll feel less terrible than you do right now. 
But you don’t, as you wake up to your alarm not long after and feel even worse. Your body is sore, your head feels heavy, and it’s a struggle to even turn to your side to try to pull yourself off the bed. Knowing there’s no way you’ll manage today, you call Mr. Ri and inform him that you’re unwell and can’t make it to work. 
“I can’t even type nor talk properly right now,” you tell him. “Can you–”
“I’ll tell Jungkook, don’t worry,” he assures you. “And just to remind you, you’re sick, okay? So stay in bed, don’t do chores or anything, and don’t think about work for even a second. You hear me? And update me on how you are.”
“Yes,” you cough out. “Thank you.”
You lie underneath the covers and hope to the heavens that more sleep would make you feel a bit of relief and it does, given that when your phone rings five hours later, you don’t feel like your head is splitting apart. 
“Good, you’re awake,” Mr. Ri says on the other end after you greet him. “Can you open your door?”
“Okay, just give me a few minutes. I’m exceptionally slow this morning.”
Mr. Ri laughs but tells you to take your time. You put on a hoodie over your gray sweatpants and briefly wash your face before opening the door. 
“Work’s got to you, huh?” He asks worriedly as he stands in front of you. “Is it bad enough to warrant a visit to the hospital? I can drive you there.”
“I’ll manage,” you mumble. “But what are you doing here, Mr. Ri? Mr. Jeon has a meeting in an hour.”
“I know. But he wanted me to give you this.”
The older man initially hands you a large paper bag but decides to just place it on your table given your weak state. He removes the containers of chicken noodle soup, rice porridge, and soybean sprout soup, boxes of soft bread, and a small jar of yuja marmalade for tea. 
“What–”
“Your meals for the next few days so you don’t have to worry about preparing them,” Mr. Ri says. “Jungkook wants you to focus on resting. He wants you to take Monday off, too.”
You look at him and suddenly feel like crying. You knew that waking up, you’d be worrying about what to eat, given that you barely have ingredients to work with. You also don’t have the energy to make anything, especially something that’d help with your health. Jungkook just relieved you of that, and at a time like today, you feel what it’s like to be cared for. And though you can argue with him using his own words - your health isn’t his responsibility - you won’t pretend that it doesn’t give you comfort knowing that he’d made the effort to buy all this and have them brought to you. 
You talk a little bit more before he heads out, and you lead him to the door where you look across the street where the car is parked. Your eyes may be puffy but you don’t miss the silhouette behind that backseat window. 
“How is she?” Jungkook asks as Mr. Ri enters the car and slowly drives away.
“She looks like someone who’s been working hard these past months and in need of rest. She says it’s normal but this is probably the worst. These few days off will be good for her.”
“I hope so, too.”
“She’s thankful for the food, Jungkook,” the older man says. “I know she’d probably say you didn’t have to but I could tell it meant a lot to her. She doesn’t always ask for help, you know? It’s good you’re somehow letting her know that she can count on you when she needs you. If this is you making it up to her, you’re on the right path.”
Jungkook hums in acknowledgement, although unsure what it means for him. Is it to compensate? To apologize again? To return the favor because you’d done it first? Is it to let you know that he has your back, too, the way you’ve been showing him that you have his? 
He’s alerted by a message, your name on his screen somehow making his heart jump. It’s a text message and not one from the usual messaging app you both use for work purposes because, well, that’s really the only thing you talk about.
[From: EA Cho] Thank you, Jungkook. I really appreciate it.
It’s the use of his name. It’s the sincerity in your simple words. 
He smiles to himself. 
Whatever it means to you, he knows it means another thing to him. He doesn’t want you to feel alone. And that in the coldest nooks of his uncaring heart, he actually does care for you. For this moment, he’ll acknowledge it. For this moment, he’ll let himself feel it. He can only hope you feel it, too.
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lady-ashfade · 6 months
Text
Mha Men Reactions To You Thinking That Asking You Out Is A Joke.
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—£ X Gn Reader
—£ Plot: Reader has been bullied and thinks that this is just another prank, they have been asked out before as a joke.
—£ Characters: Katsuki Bakugo, Izuku Midoriya, Eijiro Kirishima, Tamaki Amajiki
—£ Warning: Angst To Comfort, Reader Being Insecure, Reader being bullied, Reader Making The Boys Feel Bad, Crying, Bad Language, Fighting, Happy Ending.
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Izuku
-He was so confused at first, then in disbelief and angry.
Izuku had worked himself up for mouths to finally ask you out. He’s been hinting at how he feels for you but you never seem to notice. All he could do each day was think about you, how he wanted to hold you in his arms and kiss you. He wanted to show you the world and all it could be.
So, he waited till you both got off of patrol and chased after you.
Hearing your name you turn around to see the green haired man running after you like a crazy man, flying so fast with a red tint on his face. Then to stop and huff in front of you, he laughed nervously.
“Deku? You okay…” you question and tilt your head. He couldn’t get enough of how cute you looked.
“Hmm, just want to tell you something.” He smiled and said it like a known fact. You wait for him to say something while you stand still, just waiting….Until he was just staring at you in silence.
You wave your hands in front of his face and he turned the shade of a tomato for a minute while jumping out of his skin. You were confused, he was acting strange? He hasn’t been this nervous in a while.
“Okay- Well” he takes a deep breath and then pours his heart out in a shout, “I like you- A lot. I have since you first showed me your quirk and flashed that smile. So, I want to ask you out on a date?”
Izuku came up with many scenarios of what could happen when he confessed. Like you laughing at him, rejecting him easily or harshly, even if you hit him! He planned for everything…
Expect to see you glare harshly at him, one that sent a chill down his spin. Your body tensed and your hands gripped on your bag.
“Real fuckin’ funny, deku. What? Did Bakugo set you up to this?” You spit at him. “Never thought you’d be the person to do this, is this for a prank show?” Your chest lets out a deep and angry chuckle.
He stared at you with his face drained and eyes staring wide. Was this his imagination? What are you even talking about. Did he say something wrong, he’s never seen you like this before. Cold and mean.
“Nothing to say?” You click your tongue and huff. “This isn’t a funny joke! It’s-” he watches you tear up and push a finger in his chest, “It’s cruel.”
“What the hell are you taking about?” He has no idea how much your words affect him. His chest was filling up with anger and his brows frown.
“Don’t act like you actually like me! You aren’t the first person to ask me out on a date as a prank! Or hell, even a bet!” You cross your arms and flare your nostrils.
Oh..
His eyes soften and swallow at your now trembling figure, looking so small now and shaking. Like he was a villain to make you feel worthless.
“You think I’m joking?” His hushed tone made you blink away some of the tears and whip them off quickly, nodding your head you bite your lip.
“You can tell whoever that you got me! Get your points or win, I don’t care.” You fix yourself and looked at the ground. You move backwards and turn around to walk away from him.
Izuku watched for a few seconds until he knew he couldn’t have you thinking this was for anyone else but himself. Grabbing your arm he turned you around and into his chest, coming face to face with his.
He had his serious and frustrated face, when he gets passionate. “I want you, I need you in my life. I don’t know who before made you feel like you were just a joke, but they don’t deserve anything. I want a date, a real one with fancy clothes and food.”
Your wide eyes stare in his, looking surprised. Your bodies were so close and he held you so tightly, his body was warm. “Just you and me.” He’s eyes flashed panicked as he looked between your eyes.
He heard your breath hitch and how hesitant you were to trust him. He wanted to know the battle you fought inside your head inside and out, so he could defeat them for you.
“Promise?” That small sparkle of hope made him smile.
“Promise.”
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Katsuki
- He’s pissed off, man has no clue what the hell you are talking about. And how you could think he’d do something so stupid?
We all know Katsuki never half asses anything, like anything. If he didn’t want you around you simply wouldn’t. So when Katsuki knew for sure he was ready to be in a relationship, he wasn’t going to let it be half asses. You were going to be his, he would give you everything.
So, he asked you plain out. Invite you out to a restaurant and to walk around your favorite part of the city. He enjoyed how talkative you got when you were happy, so this would be just right for you.
Then you flat out yelled and him.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Being so confused his loud voice rang through the empty park.
You roll your eyes, “You don’t think I know when a trick is played on me?” You ask with a pointed glare. “Look, you aren’t the first.”
Trick? You think he’s joke about this shit?
“Huh?! You think I’d take the time out of my day, but your ass food and do your favorite thing- Just to prank you?” He shouted.
“Don’t flip this on me! I know this is just a joke, ask out the “weird” person right? They must be so easy? Is that it? Want to seem so much better then everyone.”
Then he was completely enraged. He couldn’t help the blood pumping through his body as he gripped his fists.
“How fuckin’ dare you.” He stepped closer. “You think that low of me?” You matched his glare and stood your ground.
“I didn’t think you were the person to do it. But here you are.”
“Oh?” His tone growled out and tilted his head. His dark smirk sent chills down your spine. “And who are you to tell me what I feel like?”
You felt your self becoming sick and you tried not to let it get to you. But this wasn’t how you thought your relationship would go, him turning out like everyone else.
“I know that everyone always likes to pull this shit on me! Ask me out, not show or laugh in my face! Who set you up to this Huh?”
Clicking his tongue he turned away from you, “You’re so stupid.”
“No. I am just know when I am being tricked.” He looked back at you with a daring smile.
“Oh yeah?” He laughed and crosses his arms like this was so funny. Making you break.
“This isn’t a joke! And it’s not funny.” You stomp your foot and started to get so overwhelmed and tear up. How could he be so cruel? Why does everyone do this.
He yanked your hands and pushed you to the nearest bench, you protested and squirmed but he was stronger then you. “Sit still!” He demanded as his hands pressed down on your shoulders.
You sink down and just do as he says to make this situation go faster. “You listen, got it?” He stared at you seriously. You take a minute and nod your head, his sigh made you sink farther down.
“This wasn’t a joke. I first noticed how beautiful you were when you feel asleep on my shoulder after training. I like when your cheeks puff out when you eat, or that crinkle in your nose. I like how you look around if anyone notices when you fail in training. I like it when you call me “Suki” and how it makes me feel.” His cheeks heated up at admitting theses things but it was all true.
“I wouldn’t ask you out as a joke, and you thinking that is fucked up. I don’t deal with stupid people. Tell me,” he pulled out his phone and clicked around a few and then shoved the bright screen in your face. A picture of you asleep on his shoulder with drool on his shoulder and him looking so calm. “Would I let anyone do that? No, only you.”
You could feel your heart beat up and lungs losing air. Your head ran with thoughts as you looked at him. He was serious? And you just said all those horrible things to him.
“You mean- You actually like me?” Your voice and question made him laugh and shove his phone back in his pocket.
“Maybe I do hang out with stupid people.” Okay, you deserve that honestly.
You take a breath and cover your face. “Shit.” You groan and lean back without looking at him. How could you look at him again, maybe you just wouldn’t for the rest of your life.
“M’sorry.” The word muffled in your hands and he looked down at you. He loves how embarrassed you looked, hiding your face from him. But he didn’t want you to overthink anything.
His hands wrap around your wrist and pull them away from your face. You didn’t look at him at all still but he just leaned down closer, “Look at me.” His demand was soft and quiet, so unlike him. When he found your eyes again he felt himself at ease.
“I’ll bellow up those fuckers that pulled that shit on you. I don’t have time to play games. So, go on a date with me and have a good time.” There was that voice again. His loud voice to cover his emotions.
“If you’ll have me.” Your eyes looked so soft and sad. Like he would still rejected you.
“Be waiting for you. And i wouldn’t want anyone else.”
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Kirishima
- Completely taken aback. He was frozen and confused, then sad and angry. His heart was broken.
Kirishima was a man, and a good man. He kicked himself for months because he wanted to ask you out but didn’t want to ruin anything. You were just so sweet and beautiful, his heart flattered when he saw you smile.
Of course he wanted to ask you out! So, he worked up himself like izuku and made sure to be on top of his game. He would style his hair, clean up after a long day and check himself out in the mirror. He had to look best for you, like a man!
He waited until you got done with your work and headed home to ask you for a date. He was waiting for you by the door with a huge but nervous smile. His chest was filling up with butterflies,
“Y/n! Over here.” He waves you down. You looked at him and smile as you march towards him. Your regular clothes looking amazing on you, he could tell the day was rough for you but you still looked as beautiful as aways.
“Hello, good work today kiri!” Your praise made him blush harder and scratch his neck. His ego growing. “Need to teach me some of your moves.”
Okay, he needs to cool himself down. You are just too cute and pretty, he finally had you alone and ready to ask you out.
“Actually, um.” He looked at you with a wide mouth before clearing his throat. “I was going to get some food, maybe I can tell you there?”
You thought about it for a minute. You have gotten food before with him so it’s not weird. So you nod. “Sure!”
“Actually, I had something else planned.” You watch him blink, he watches you tilt your head. “I wanted to ask out on a date. Right now, to any restaurant you want of course.”
Your body tenses and hand comes to clinch your chest, looking around for the hidden camera. His smile seemed real but you knew the truth, this was a cruel prank.
“Not funny kiri.” Your voice sounded different as you got angry. You turn your head and cross your arms, “Think this is funny? What kind of a friend are you!” You shout making him sink back.
He was now frozen with his face white and smile gone. He stared at you confused and unknowing what to say.
“I’m sorry..But, what are you talking about?” You only huff at his words and puff your cheeks and chest out.
“Don’t play dumb! I know what this is,” you turn around and look for someone, “He got me! Really funny.”
Kiri stepped closer and looked to where you looked, “Y/n, it’s just you and me here.”
“Oh, so you just wanted to see for yourself what i would do? Because asking me out is so fucking funny. Well,” you hit his chest. “It’s not!”
Your words and hands feel like knives. You have never seemed so loud and broken before or yelled at him before. He wanted to tear up with you.
“I don’t think it’s funny, what are you talking about?” His hands covered the yours that rested on his chest. “Did I say something wrong?”
You tear up fully and start to cry, “I know kiri, no use of hiding it. I know this is just some stupid prank to get me to feel bad about myself and you won! Just like all the others.” You try to pull away from him but his body moves on its own and keeps you from moving.
His blood starts to rise and his teeth start to show. You think this is a prank, that he was just doing this to make you cry? And what others? Oh, this was making him pissed.
“Who did it? I’ll talk to them, that’s so unmanly! Hurting someone like that?” He leans down to you, “Let alone you…that’s the most cruel thing I have heard.”
You blink up at him, your arms struggling to pull back come to a stop. “What do you mean? You did it to.” Your voice broke and didn’t sound as angry but disappointed.
“I would never. I’m not joking y/n, I want to take you out on a date. Even more now to show you that you can be loved, like I do! Please give me a chance, you are the only person I think about!” He backs away from you and bows his head to plead.
“Let me take you out on this one date and if you don’t like it, then I can deal with it! A man has to step up. I wanna go out with you so bad!”
You stare down at him in shock at his outburst as he begs you…no one has done that before. Kiri didn’t seem like the type of guy to ever joke about this..But why would he want you?
Sighing you look away, heat coming to your cheeks. He asked you out and you just made a scene. “You mean it?”
His head shot like a dog and nodded his head quickly, “It will be the best date you ever had! I’ll even buy you dessert.” He poked out his chest with pride and now a smile to convince you.
“Fine! But if you think-” your eyes wide and throat close up as he smashes his lips onto yours. You feel yourself growing weak and unable to move.
He pulls away quickly with a blush at his cheeks, “I am serious, did that prove something?”
“P-Point proven.” He smirks at his victory and takes you by the hand to show you a wonderful night.
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Tamaki
-He’s so stressed and sad, he’s confused. This one might hurt.
Tamaki gets embarrassed so easily but when he is around you something just happens to him. He’s so fluster and can’t look at you but at the same time he’s calm and needs your company. Tamaki finds himself thinking about you and your smile, how soft you look to hold. But why would you want someone like him? Someone who hides and stutters all the time.
Until he was forced to ask you out by Mirio. If he didn’t tell you then mirio would have to tell you himself. And Tamaki almost fainted on the spot. How could he face you?
So he went to your office, stuttering already and panicked. When he knocked on your door he hoped you wouldn’t be there.
“Hello,” you greet the person with a smile that only brightens when you realize it was him, “Tamaki, come in.” You open the door for him and he walks In quickly.
Your office was just like you. He loved how you made this place just as your own, it made him feel safe.
“What’s up? Need another pair of hands on a mission?” You walk back to your desk and near your gear that you needed to take off. He cleared his throat.
“N-no, actually, I have something to say.” You turn to look at his tense frame. “Oh?” Then he turned his face around and took a deep breath.
“Mirio helped me with this. Close your eyes and say what’s one your heart. Um- Okay, okay.” He whispers to himself and tightens his fists. You arch a brow and watch him curiously.
He takes a deep breath then begins to stutter and trip over his words, “W-Wanna take you out- On a date.” His voice breaks loudly. “I hope I did it right..” I wishes to himself breathy and panting.
You stare at the back of his head and place your hands on your desk..Mirio must have set him up to this. Must have felt pity for you, or to do this as a joke.
“I can’t believe you both- I’m not a bet or a joke.” He jumps out of his skin at your shouting voice. His head runs quickly at what he must have said to make you yell at him.
“This isn’t- Oh no, not how I want this to go.” He closes his eyes and shakes a bit.
“Oh? Wanted me to say yes so you guys can laugh? Or, what? Get brownie points for asking me out? Out of pity!” There you go shouting again.
Tamaki has never heard you yell like this, unless it’s a villain…is he a villain? No, he can’t be. But his ears heat up and he sinks into his clothes.
“No…I just wanted to go out with you.” He spoke louder but still hesitant in himself. He stayed still for your next words but they never come.
Only a sniffle.
You lean down on your desk and sob while trying to stay quiet. You thought that Mirio and tamaki were your friends, and would never hurt you.
He turned his head around and something twisted in his stomach to make him feel sick. Seeing you with tears rolling down your face and sink into your own skin like him, made him feel horrible.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he walked toward. You grip on the desk and let out a soft chuckle, “That’s what happens when you pull a prank on someone.”
It clicked in his brain finally that you thought he wasn’t serious. Like he just treating you less and as a joke. It was harsh to think of him like that.
“Y/n..” he walks closer to you as you stiffen the closer he got, you sob harder.
“I get it, you can tell miriro you got me.”
“Y/n.” He said clear and without a stutter, his face and body now on the side of you. “I am in love with you.” Your breath hitched and he hears it.
“You make me wanna be brave. I can’t help but get flustered and shy around you because- Well because you’re so pretty and nice. But I want to take you out..” he leans closer as you look up at him. “I want..” he trails of and glances into your eyes with matching tears curl up in his eyes.
“I want you.”
You take a deep breath and stand up straight. You feel heat raise up in your body of embarrassment, “M’sorry.” You sob again and throw your arms around his shoulders and pull him closer.
And he’s back to being a melted mess as you hold him close. He blushes and softly wraps his arms around you and pats your back lightly. “D-Does this mean you’ll go on a date with me?”
You chuckle and pull away from him and whip off your own tears as his hands stay on your hips. “If you don’t hate me.” You nod and sniffle one more time. He smiles,
“I Could never hate you.”
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its-rach-writes · 17 days
Text
Cinnamon and Art Galleries - Spencer Reid
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: Your friend, Emily brings a cute stranger to your art exhibition.
Warnings: fluff, fluff, more fluff, probably ooc Spencer
A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this! This was my first time writing for Spencer so he's probably out of character but please let me know what you think! I love you all! xxx
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You smiled as you drew the cat in the hot chocolate foam and handed it to the little girl on the other side of the counter with her mom. It melted your heart when her face lit up and she waved at you as her mom steered her out of the café. It was slow in your café today but you didn’t mind, you used the time to set up for the beginner art class you were going to be teaching on Saturday.
“Hey girl,” you glanced up when the bell rang and your friend Emily walked in.
You smiled when you saw her and gave her a wave. She was the first friend you had made when you moved to DC.
“Hey,” you smiled, “having the usual?”
“Please,” she grinned.
You got to work, making her one black coffee, the other was a milky coffee with a shot of cinnamon syrup. You knew that Emily drank the black coffee so you couldn’t help but wonder who the overly sweet coffee was for. You carefully selected the cinnamon roll with the most frosting and slid it into a bag, being careful to not let it stick to the paper bag.
“I believe congratulations are in order,” Emily started and you scoffed with a laugh.
As soon as you found out your art was going to be featured in an exhibition, Emily was the first person you told, “the team are coming to see it.”
You raised an eyebrow, secretly you were grateful, “FBI Agents don’t have anything better to do?”
She laughed, “not tonight, I even managed to talk the good Dr into coming.”
“The elusive Spencer Reid?” you rested your hip against the counter as you handed her the coffees, “how did you manage that?” from what Emily had told you, it didn’t seem like Spencer Reid liked social situations.
“I’ve got killer interrogation skills,” she smirked, “he’s cute too.”
You internally groaned, yours and Emily’s definition of ‘cute’ were very different, for all you knew Spencer Reid was an aging Professor, “as long as you don’t try and set us up, like you tried with me and Morgan.”
“No promises,” she laughed as she backed out of the café, “I’ll see you tonight.”
Later that night, you were sipping champagne as people perused your exhibition, your paintings were both inspired by Pre-Raphaelite art and the King Arthur legends. You noticed a man was standing at your painting of the Knights of the Round Table, so you walked over and decided to strike up a conversation.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” his lips twitched into a small smile as he looked down at you with gorgeous deep brown eyes, “you’re the artist right?” when you nodded, he looked back at the painting, “you’re really good.”
“Thanks, I love Pre-Raphaelite art.”
“Did you know that the Pre-Raphaelites were a secret society of young artists, founded in London in 1848? They were opposed to the Royal Academy’s promotion of the ideal as exemplified in the work of Raphael,” he blurted this out like he’d memorised it from a textbook and you worked hard to conceal a laugh.
“I did know that,” you giggled.
“Right of course,” he flushed, “of course you knew that.”
Something struck a memory, something that Emily had told you, “wait, are you Spencer Reid?” he looked at you with slightly wary eyes before nodding and you smiled, “I’m Y/N, Emily has told me so much about you.”
“It’s all lies,” he joked and glanced over his shoulder, “she’s making the most of the bar right now.”
You laughed as you looked over too and she waved, lifting up a glass in a motion of cheers. When she had said Spencer was cute, it was an understatement, he was young and gorgeous.
“Are you interested in art?” you asked as you sipped your champagne.
Spencer nodded, “I like looking at it, I’m afraid I’m not very artistic.”
“And here, we thought you were perfect,” you heard a chuckle from over your shoulder and you turned to see Derek Morgan and the rest of the BAU, Morgan pulled you into a hug, “congratulations sweetheart.”
“Thanks,” you smiled as you pulled away and looked at the others, “thank you for coming.”
It was a great night and you were grateful for everyone that came but soon, you were starting to get overwhelmed so you went out onto the balcony for a cigarette. Though it seemed as though someone else had beaten you to it. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced over his shoulder and smiled at you.
“Hey, you want some company?”
“Sure,” he smiled.
There was comfortable silence for a while as both of you looked over at the lights of DC, your cigarette smoke curling in the air. Soon enough, Spencer spoke up.
“So what do you do? Is art your full time thing?”
“I own the café by the library, but I’m integrating art into the café, I’m teaching a beginner class at the weekend from there.”
“No way! Seriously?” he smiled, looking animated, “your coffee is so good and your cinnamon rolls? Amazing.”
You laughed, “Emily gets the cinnamon roll with the most frosting for you?”
“Yeah,” he flushed, he opened his mouth to say something else when he was interrupted by Aaron Hotchner.
“Reid, we just got called in,” he glanced at you, an apologetic look, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“No, it’s okay,” you smiled when Spencer pushed himself off the railing, “it was really nice to meet you Spencer.”
He flushed and offered you a shy smile, “it was nice to meet you too, I’ll see you soon?”
You nodded and Emily pulled you into a tight hug, whispering in your ear, “I’ll make sure he sees you soon,” you laughed, shaking your head as she pulled away.
On Saturday, you were setting up for the art class when you heard the tinkle of the bell and you glanced up. None other than Spencer Reid was standing in the open doorway, the sun like a halo around his head.
“Thought you might need a hand.”
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dr3c0mix · 10 months
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Hi! I love your stuff, you’re a really good writer! Take your time if you ever get to this, don’t burn yourself out.
The scenario is a delusional yandere childhood friend/monster. Like the reader found it in the woods as a kid and they grew up playing until the reader had to move away. Now years later, the reader is back..and the monster thinks it has a mate again.
Imaginary More-Than-Friends
Yandere! Imaginary Childhood Bestfriend x GN Reader
an: I believe the few people will recognize this guy from my old posts, i figured i let him out of my little toy box of characters huehuehue. i have to say though that i'm very much attached to this one and i will not be accepting nsfw requests of this character in the future! sorry if its not really what you asked for though ._." i was a bit excited when i saw your request
CW: Coulrophobia, delusional yan, this one is a bit more intense than normal, kidnapping kind of, possessive themes
🦋 You have vague memories of your old house. Memories of playing around in your old room and the faint sounds of cicadas and rustling leaves from outside your bedrooms window felt like a blur.
🦋 The clearest memory of your childhood there was playing around in the woods by your backyard. You had a small clubhouse somewhere in the thicket of trees and other flora. It was a small red tent full of flower ornaments that you've weaved and little trinkets you found while exploring.
🦋 You also remember there being someone else in the woods with you every time you played, although you don't remember any neighbors with kids when you were younger. Even then you have foggy memories of talking to someone very close to you.
🦋 You feel the truck you're riding in turn a corner and you look up to see your old family house slowly appearing from behind autumn-colored trees.
🦋 As soon as the moving truck came to a stop, you opened the door after thanking the driver and got your bags, taking a good look at the large house in front of you.
🦋 The paint was chipping and most of the metal decor was rusting, but you can fix them up as soon as you move in. Your family had to move out pretty quickly for some unknown reason so you figured many of the things that were left were still there.
🦋 Turning the key in the lock and opening the door, you could have sworn you heard scurrying from inside the house, must have been an animal that got in from a window or something.
🦋 Somehow, the house didn't seem very dusty, even though it's been sitting unoccupied for years. The floor looks swept to an extent with piles of leaves looking to have been swept lazily to the sides of the rooms.
🦋 You wandered through the house, your memories coming back to you about the times you spent with your parents, all the while, you can hear faint scratching and thumping as you walk.
🦋 The tall figure skittered around house, watching you wander around from the corners with an unblinking stare. He couldn't believe it. You were here, you're back! And you're so much bigger than you were all those years ago...you look so beautiful now! A toothy grin widens on his face as his claws scratched the doorframe he was gripping, leaving deep scratches.
🦋 As you enter your old room, you see that the dusty bed still looks made, like it's been waiting for someone to sleep in it for years. Old toys with ribbons of your favorite color tied to their necks or wrists sat in their places by a fogged windowsill as paper cranes and insects on string and glow in the dark stars still hung on your ceiling.
🦋 Just as you were about to leave to get your things moved in, you hear your old closet creak open. You freeze and turn to it, it looked like there wasn't anything inside. You wait a bit before fucking off, not wanting to deal with any ghouls or the like at the moment...
🦋 The figure then breathes a sigh of relief as soon as you're out of earshot. It pushes itself out of the closet and onto the floor. Soon you will see each other, he promises. He just has to find the right time...
🦋 You'd find items missing and reappearing in strange places sometimes, it could've been just you forgetting where you placed them, but there's no way you could have misplaced your shoes in the sink or your sweater outside your window...
🦋 You'd also notice food that was left out being eaten, not by ants or rodents though, the bite marks were too large.
🦋 You weren't some dumb character in a horror movie, you could see the tell-tale signs of a haunting, but you didn't want to let go of the house, not after all the years of trying to buy it back and all the money you put into renovating it.
🦋 Your mind was put at ease somewhat when you found a group of raccoons rummaging through your trashcans next to a window with a broken window, they could've just been messing with your stuff and eating your food while you weren't looking. You took note that you had to fix the locks soon.
🦋 After a few tiring days of getting everything cleaned up and moving in your stuff, you look at your hard work and smile. Your furniture gave the home your own personal touch while still keeping the nostalgic charm of your childhood home. You sigh in satisfaction and decide to go out and get some fresh air.
🦋 You exit through your backyard door and, from what you can see, the woods hasn't changed a bit since you left. It made you smile knowing you personal little playground hasn't wasted away. You then remember your old hideout. A wave of memories come back to you as you rush to where you remember the little red fort was.
🦋 To your surprise, the tent was still up, in fact, you could see no sign of aging on it. No damage from rain or wind or anything, it's like it was frozen in time. You walk up to it, crouching down and lifting the red embroidered curtains of the entrance and revel in the little items that withstood the years it has been left here.
🦋 Although, you notice there being more things than you remember. Did you really collect all these thing when you were younger? There were bottles of soda can tabs and acorns, figurines of animals carved out of wood, were those animal bones??
🦋 You back away from the tent, very much weirded out by the new additions to your old hang out spot when suddenly, your body bumps into something. It felt thin like a tree but soft like a plush toy with burlap for the cover. Your eyes go wide as you hear a voice from above you. "(Y/N)?"
🦋 The familiar jingle of bells sparked something in you as you look up to meet the creature's porcelain face.
🦋 You stare at the figure like it would disappear if you look away from it as you step back to look at it better.
🦋 It was a clown, a tall one at that. Its white pupils stayed on you as you can see razor sharp teeth within its mouth. His limbs looked almost jointless like how a plush toy would look. It's clothes were brown and dirty from years of neglect.
🦋 What you were seeing wasn't human, it couldn't be human. It was too freakishly tall to be one. You didn't know what to do, running could provoke it to chase you and attacking could anger it.
🦋 Suddenly, it steps closer to you and bends down, you could feel its breath on your face, it unusually smelled like candycorn.
🦋 Then it chuckles, giving you a grin before suddenly picks you up and wraps its long arms around you, spinning around happily like a child holding their new toy.
🦋 "(Y/N)! (Y/N)! Oh I'm so happy to see you again! You've grown so much! Where did you go? What did you see? Did you...make any new friends?"
🦋 It pulls away from you and stops spinning only to see a terrified expression on your face. His smile drops and cocks his head to the side. "(Y/N)? Are you okay?" The bells on its jester hat jingle softly.
🦋 As your shock melts away, you figure he didn't have any intention of harming you and you try and catch your breath. Your eyes then catch a glimpse of ribbons tied around his wrists. It was your favorite color.
🦋 Your slowly look back up to the clown and you finally remember your old friend that you used to play with.
🦋 You had a favorite toy amongst your collection of stuffed animals and dolls. It was a strawberry pink clown with stretchy arms, you used to carry it around with you all the time. From the moment you wake up to going back to sleep, you had it with you. You named it..
🦋 "Hallow?"
🦋 The clown perks up at the name and its smile widens even more. "So you remember! Hahah! I was beginning to think you forgot all about me!" "Y-you're real?! I mean you were- but- h-how is this possible?!"
🦋 Hallow puts you down and gives you a confused look, pointing a finger to his cheek. "Real? Of course I'm real! I'm your best friend!" He giggles, spinning around joyfully.
🦋 "And I...left you here.." "Oh I don't mind! I'm sure you had a reason! Besides, you're here now and we can play again! And we can be together!" He takes your hands into his and squeezes them, his grip a bit shaky. Well, at least it won't be so lonely out here anymore...
🦋 From there, Hallow kept you company, he would help you out in fixing up the exterior of the house and tell you all about what's happened since you left.
🦋 "I saw a reeeaaallly big bear once! He looked all tubby and fluffy and stuff! I tried petting it but it bit my arm off! So rude right? At least I knew how to sew my arm back! Thanks for teaching me how by the way!"
🦋 He's a bit clingy, but he does give you space if you ask him. and by give you space i mean he just stares at you from the corner of the room instead of hovering over you the whole time.
🦋 He wasn't a fan of other people though, if ever a friend of yours visits or a delivery person drops by, he'd disappear in a flash, when they finally leave, he's unusually quiet until to ask if he was alright. When you turn away from him, his forced smile drops down to a sneer, thinking about the strange person that was trying to take you away from him...
🦋 Then one day, a friend of yours called and told you they were in the area and wanted to meet up with you. Hallow watched as you happily talked to your phone from the gap between your door, scratching the wood in jealousy. Who was making you so happy (Y/N)? Only he's supposed to make you laugh like that...
🦋 When your friend came, he disappeared once again. He watched you greet your 'friend' with a hug, being awfully touchy with them, holding their hand as you guide them to your couch.
🦋 He hated it, he hated them. He hated you happy you looked as you two laughed together. He wished it was him who was making you laugh, not this stranger. Infact, what made you think they were to be trusted? Wasn't it other people that made you leave him in the first place? Your dreaded parents were the reason you were taken from him, what makes you think your "friend" won't do the same. Before you know it, you could be taken back to the city, stressed and overwhelmed and away from him, your best friend, your only friend, your soulmate!
🦋 His spiraling thoughts were quickly interrupted by your friend getting up from their seat. "Alright, it's getting late..where's that mall again?" "Oh, you just turn right from the second street over." "Ok! I'll pick you up tomorrow at noon!" noon?
🦋 The door closes, and you hear the jingling of bells behind you. "Do you have to hide every time there's someone else he-" Your joking comment is cut off when you turn and he's looming dreadfully over you.
🦋 "What mall?" "H-huh?" He's glaring daggers into your eyes, taking a step closer to you as you back up, unease growing inside of you.
🦋 "What's at noon?" "H-hallow we're just going out-" "How long?" "H-how long?? I don't kno-" "Hours? Days? Years?" You're backed up against the wall, the giant clown's arms at either side of you, trapping you under him as black drool drips down his snarling mouth.
🦋 "How long are you gonna leave me this time huh? How many days am I gonna wait for you to come back to me?!" "Hallow stop you're scaring me!" "I'm supposed to be my best friend! Not them!" He snaps at you, making you flinch in fear. His glare softens then turns into a horrified expression. Pulling his hands back closer to him shakily as you shivered in front of him, your arms hiding your face. He lets out a quiver before stepping away from you. You lower your arms and he was gone, you can hear banging and thumping from upstairs.
🦋 The next day, you were getting ready for your outing with your friend. Hallow didn't show up that day. You weren't used to the silence that was left.
🦋 You haven't seen Hallow in a few days, but you always let out food for him. He was hurt, you can tell, but it was clear he needed space at the moment, you just hoped he didn't do anything rash as you went to bed a week after your fight with the clown.
🦋 You woke up the next day, expecting Hallow not to come out again. You get up from your bed and head downstairs. Calling out Hallow's name, no answer.
🦋 You sigh and figure you should get some much-needed fresh air. The tension that has built up in the house was almost suffocating to you. You went to your backdoor to spend some time outside.
🦋 But when you tried to open the door, it wouldn't turn. You tried unlocking it, but the lock wouldn't budge. You pulled and shook it but to avail. You groan and try to open a window instead, but the latch was shut tight. You tried the other windows but none of them opened. You started to freak out when you hear a jingle of bells behind you.
🦋 "H-Hallow? Why are the all the windows shut? The door's locked too!" You look to him, but he looked off. His normal wide-eyed smile was replaced with a half-lidded grin. He swayed side to side, clasping his hands together as he giggled. "Hello, you~"
🦋 "H-hey...what's going on?" You ask him, sweat rolling down the side of your head nervously.
🦋 "Well, I thought about what you said and I realized! You're not at fault here! You just want someone to be with! And I guess me being your friend wasn't good enough for you so you turned to someone else! I know you didn't mean to hurt me lovely, but I can change for you! I can be much more than a best friend! We can be like those knights and princesses in your storybooks, remember?"
🦋 He starts walking up to you, you hold onto the countertop behind you as he rambles on in a lovesick haze. "H-Hallow?"
🦋 "You won't need anyone else (Y/N)! You'll just need me from now on! We'll be together forever! Oh and don't worry about food and stuff, I can get you those!"
🦋 He chuckles, before pulling you into an uncomfortably tight hug, you flinch as you feel him kiss your neck and cheek, his sharp teeth grazing your skin ever so gently.
🦋 "You'll never have go away ever again, my f-...my love~"
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diejager · 2 months
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Imagine that the hybrid 141 was getting a teammate and that teammate was a hybrid and Laswell wanted it to be a surprise for the team what they are as in hybrid was and soon as they get off the aircraft and onto the tarmac, the boys realize that they’re with another dragon hybrid and her “heat” would be soon upon her (dark blue in to black better for stealth or, whatever you prefer, she also has her wings) how would the boys handle that you can take the story anyway you want 
This… I might make it self-indulging because this idea has been clawing at the back of my mind for a long while. Cw: mating/heat cycle, fire/water magic, tell me if I missed any.
Laswell had Price wait for the surprise she had planned, the secret she kept from them when they received your file. It had all he asked for in attributes and skills, but all things personal that should have been on it were scratched out in black. He was told that it was a need to know basis, your name, age or species wouldn’t be divulged unless you told them yourself. He knew you from words from mouth to ear, ad read of your skill and efficiently but nothing he heard and found told him an ounce about you as a person. Your character was a mystery he died to know.
So when he got word from Laswell that your ETA was just over half an hour, he had the boys reconvene to the airstrip, watching the aircraft carrying you land not too far from them, the rotors slowing to a steady thrum. The anticipation that bubble din his chest made this moment crawl at a snail’s pace, the ramp lowering too slowly for his liking and the droning sound of the aircraft’s irking his ears. Then, seconds after the ramp fully dropped, he caught sight of blue horns, tines growing from a singular robust beam, segmented like those of a scale. Your head, covered by a custom made helmet to let your antlers peek out and sit comfortably on your head (at least you wore something, unlike his constant frustration with finding one that wouldn’t bother his horns), followed after you walked out, decked in your gear and a bag slung over your shoulders. 
You weren’t what he was expecting, not exactly. He read that you had a masterful experience in hydromancy, stealing water from the air and humidity and contorting it to cause havoc in the field and cutting through the enemy. He and the others shared their theories, one possibility made you into a water witch, a leviathan, or one of those creepy monsters from the deep sea. Not what… whatever you were. You had elk-like horns painted in the deepest blue he’d ever seen and a tail covered in scales of the same shade, glistening under the light like it was wet with tufts of hair - or was it fur? - crawling down the base of your fourth limb to create a silky and soft end with long, slowing locks. 
What were you? What was that smell? It got sweeter the closer you got, a softness that clung to his nose and made him salivate. He wondered how strong it must be for the Soap and König who’s noses were more enhanced and sensitive than any others, they’d probably sniff the source - you - out and answer his undying question.
“Captain Price,” you nodded your head, a small smile gracing your lips, your slitted eyes narrowed in greeting, “Hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”
That sweetness lingered around you and stuck to his hand when you shook hands, giving him a firm shake and stronger grip that he could admire for the strength you showed. Had you face been as bright as it was a few seconds before? Perhaps it was the musk that oozed off you, it was uneasily addicting and pleasing to his lizard brain, slowly moving the cogs of hos old machine. He watched you take a step back, making some distance between his Task Force and you, and his mind got clearer, nose less stuffy and cheeks wash away the slight flush. Then it hit him, the sweetness, the dazed perception of you and the growing need in his body, he was reacting to you. 
“Sorry, I was told I’d be off for the week once I landed,” you cocked your head, sharing an apologetic smile, “My cycle follows the Lunar year.”
Ah, everything made more sense now, the gracefulness of your beautiful tail, the glistening of your scales and the sharpness of your horns. He had agreed to welcome another dragon to his Task Force, he was fortunate that Asian dragons were calmer and benevolent than his European counterpart. 
Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami
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star-wrote · 2 months
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Need
ao3 link
Character: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader | Prison Era
Summary: After somehow convincing Daryl to let you go on a hunt with him, you stop to admire a pretty flower. Little did you know, the pollen would have an… interesting effect on you.
Warnings: smut, swearing, sexual details, sex pollen??, insecurity on daryl’s part, a little fluffy, a little angsty, apparently no threat of walkers bc they get it on in the woods.
Word Count: 2,500 ish
18+
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Convincing Daryl to let you tag along on a hunt was a task in itself. He was the closest thing you had to a best friend these days, so he knew how antsy you got when being behind the prison gates for too long. He felt the same way. That didn’t mean he was going to let you go out into possible danger any easier though. You practically had to drop to your knees and beg him to let you join, swearing you’d bring extra luck for him to catch a deer. Muttering something like “ain’t need no luck” under his breath, he eventually agreed to let you join. You pretended not to see his cheeks redden when you wrapped your arms around his neck in an excited hug.
That was about two hours ago. Now, you were following him through the forest as he tracked some animal. You were doing your best to keep quiet, given the fact that he had scolded you just about five minutes ago for walking too carelessly (whatever that means). You started to grow bored. Sure it was nice being away from the prison, but you figured your best friend would entertain you in at least some conversation. You should’ve known better, this was Daryl Dixon.
You were about to suggest playing a silly game of truth or truth when you saw something pink out of the corner of your eye. You paused and walked over, observing a beautiful flower that looked like it belonged to a storybook. Your internal battle of deciding whether or not to pick it was fast as you assumed a walker would just trample it anyway. So you picked it.
Daryl knew right away that you weren’t following him anymore, so he paused for a drink of water while he watched you get distracted by a flower. He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t fight the smile as he noticed you pick it and immediately bring it to your nose to inhale the scent. As you pulled it away from your face, he saw it left pink specks of pollen on your nose.
“Ya got a lil somethin’ on yer nose.”
Instead of a reply, he was met with a series of four loud sneezes.
“Jeez woman, gonna draw all the walkers in.”
You giggled, wiped your nose, and finally replied with a small, “sorry.”
“If yer done pickin’ flowers, let’s get back to trackin’ this deer,” he said as he grabbed his bag from where he placed it on the forest floor.
You gasped, “You didn’t tell me we were tracking a deer! I told you I would bring good luck.”
He rolled his eyes at you for the second time that day and muttered “stop.”
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It started as an ache in between your legs. It wasn’t particularly unpleasant, but it was surprising how strong it was.
You weren’t unfamiliar with the feeling of arousal. You were a girl who knew her own body. At least before the end of the world. There wasn’t enough time, safety, or privacy to bring yourself pleasure. Not to mention the lack of people throwing themselves at you.
Still, it was unfamiliar for you to feel so much arousal on a hunt with Daryl.
Daryl.
You found your gaze wandering to the archer taking sure steps in front of you. His shoulders seemed to be broader than normal… no, he was always this large. Your eyes went lower as you found yourself thinking about what else had to be large, accidentally letting out a whimper.
Daryl didn’t stop walking, just tossed a “ya okay?” over his shoulder.
You shook your head, as if it would cleanse your brain of the impure thoughts you had for your best friend, and answered.
“Yeah, sorry, just tripped over my feet. You know me, super clumsy haha.” Stop talking!
He just grunted in response. Phew.
You wondered if he would grunt like that while he was deep inside of you…
This time you actually did trip, bumping into the firm man in front of you. He whipped around and grabbed you by your shoulders.
“Tha’ hell? What’s gotten into ya?”
Not you, sadly.
He looked at you more deeply and noticed your face was flushed pink like the flower you still held in your hand, and your chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths.
“Are ya okay? Ya bit?” He asked with a worried look as his eyes ran down your frame.
It wouldn’t make sense for you to have gotten bit, he was with you the entire time. No, it was something else.
You looked up at him with a glazed look in your eyes and got out the words “so hot.” You weren’t sure if you were talking about your body temperature or him at this point. His big hands on your shoulders felt as if they were burning holes through your skin. The ache between your legs had turned into a stabbing pain, and your lower stomach felt a different kind of hunger. Lust.
Daryl was beyond worried when he saw you drop your flower to clutch at your stomach. His eyes looked to the flower and recognition finally crossed his brain. Oh no.
He scooped you up bridal style, and you all but moaned. Now that he knew what was happening, a blush reached his face. He carried you to a nearby willow tree next to a lake and sat you down under the shade. You whined when he let go, so he made sure to at least grab your hands with his.
“Sunshine? I need ya to listen to me.”
You met his eyes and nodded, but still had a glazed over expression.
He sighed, knowing this was the best it would get. “I think tha’ flower ya smelled was one of those aphrodisiacs. A really strong one too. I remember reading about it in that unique plants of Georgia book ya found for me.”
Your eyes widened and you let out another whine. “It hurts so bad. I- I need. Ugh.”
“Ya need to just wait it out. Could be a couple of hours.”
“No Daryl I can’t. I need you to fix it. Please fix it.”
He wasn’t sure what you were asking for, but he knew he’d give you anything if you asked him with those big, round eyes.
“Honey, I’m not sure what yer askin’.
“Need you to fuck me.”
That stopped his breath where it was in his chest. His eyes widened as he looked anywhere but your desperate face. He knew you weren’t in your right mind. You didn’t actually want him, you just wanted to act on the arousal you felt. He wasn’t sure he could handle your touch if it wasn’t genuine.
He was drawn out of his thoughts as he saw you strip your shirt off out of the corner of his eye. Somehow, his face grew even more red.
“Nah, you don’t wanna do this. You don’t want me.”
“Daryl please, I only want you. I’ve only wanted you for so long. Since the farm. Not just your body, but your soul and mind and thoughts and oh my god please I just need you to fuck me. Make it go away please.” You cried.
His heart stopped at your confession. Was this true or was it just the drug from the flower talking?
He brought his hands up to your cheeks and looked into your eyes as you nuzzled into his warm palms.
“Need ya to look at me.” He waited until your eyes met his. “Need ya to tell me that you really want this, want me. And that ya wont regret it.”
You brought your hands to his on your face. “I promise. I want you. I want you so bad. Only you.”
With that, he roughly pushed his lips to yours in a heated kiss. You could’ve melted then and there. Especially when you moved your hand to wrap around the back of his hair and heard the sound he let out. A kind of grunt that you had only heard in your dreams until then.
“Imma take care of ya. Don’t worry baby.” He panted.
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Clothes were off in an instant, but Daryl’s shirt stayed on. You knew about the scars and had seen them a few times, but you didn’t want to push him. Plus, you weren’t in the state to reassure him much anyway.
He currently had you on your back on the soft moss next to the willow tree, his mouth sucking your clit and fingers deep in your pussy. He said he needed to warm you up, even after you tried to convince him you were warmed up enough. You had a feeling it was more for him to prepare himself anyway.
It was heavenly, his eyes closed and arms wrapped around your thighs. His tongue never stopping at lapping up your wetness. His fingers gently but firmly hooking into you at a steady pace. It was perfect.
But it wasn’t enough.
“Daryl, please, I need more. I need you, please.” You gasped out.
He released your clit with a wet pop and pulled his fingers out of you, licking them clean of your juices. Your eyes could’ve rolled back in your head at the sight.
“Alright,” he rasped out, “quit yer whinin’ girl.”
You grinned up at him as he pumped his cock in his hands. You knew he was big.
He must’ve seen you drooling over his dick because he smirked and gently caressed your cheek before popping his thumb into your mouth for you to suck.
You weren’t sure where this newfound confidence came from, but god you loved it.
He took his thumb out and shushed you as you whined in protest.
“Ya ready for me baby?”
You could’ve nodded until your head fell off. His “warming you up” took the edge off, but the ache was back in full force, begging for you to just jump on him.
“Please Daryl. Need you so bad.”
“Alright, alright. Tell me if anythin’ hurts. I’ll try and be gentle baby.”
Your heart swooned but your lust clouded brain wanted you to yell at him to not be gentle. Instead, you settled on nodding at him.
Daryl placed his tip at your entrance and looked into your eyes as he pushed inside. Any amount of hesitance he felt dissipated as soon as he felt your wet, warm walls squeezing him.
The stretch you felt was the relief you needed. You felt your thoughts clear, as well as your clouded eyes.
Daryl noticed the change immediately and kissed your nose, then your forehead.
“Ya okay? Want me to stop?” He asked with a hint of embarrassment. Now that he solved your “problem” he was worried that you’d suddenly find him less appealing and grow disgusted with him. He tried to push the thoughts away, but his brain has always been programmed to doubt himself. He felt your arms snake up his back and hold on tight to him as your legs wrapped around him to keep him inside of you.
“Don’t you dare stop.” You breathed out, still accommodating to the stretch you felt between your legs. “I still want you. Still need you.”
Even though the effects of the pollen were sated as soon as he entered you, that didn’t stop you from being turned on by the archer. You always knew you wanted something more with him, and now you were finally getting it. So you bucked your hips up further on his length with a moan.
He closed his eyes tight to prevent himself from thrusting the rest of the way into you. He knew he was big, and now that you were thinking more clearly, he knew that he had to be more gentle. When he opened his eyes, he saw you looking at him with wide eyes and your teeth tugging on your lower lip. God, you were beautiful.
He brought your hands above your head and locked your fingers with his. Then he slowly and finally filled you up the rest of the way. You both gasped and squeezed each other’s hands.
You let out a whine when he pulled out again, but sighed as he thrusted back in.
“Harder, you won’t break me.” You pleaded with him.
“I gotcha.” His next thrust was hard enough for you to release his hands and clutch onto his back. He leaned on one of his arms above you and brought the other to press into your lower stomach. “You feel me right here, baby? So deep huh?”
“Oh my god!” You moaned out for him. “Daryl… feels so good.”
He just thrusted faster and harder in response, desperate to make you feel good like you deserve.
He felt you tighten around him and he read your body signs with ease, as if you two had done this a million times before. He brought the hand was pressing on your lower stomach down to find and circle your puffy clit, getting a reaction immediately. You gasped and scratched your nails down his covered back as you somehow got out the word, “gonna-“
“I know, let go for me baby, c’mon.” He felt himself getting closer, wishing so bad that he could stay inside your cunt and finish there, but he knew the risks.
You tugged his body into yours as you finished around him, squeezing him in more ways than one.
Daryl let you ride out your pleasure before pulling out of the sweet cunt that kept sucking him in. It only took two pumps for him to release all over your inner thighs with a raspy grunt. He sat back on his knees and watched as his cum trickled down the puffy wetness between your legs and fell into the moss below him. He wished he has a camera in a moment like this, but he decided to settle on a mental snapshot for later.
He grabbed his handkerchief from his pants on the forest floor and wiped his cum from your thighs. You smiled up at him even though he wouldn’t meet your eyes. You grabbed his hand when he finished and brought it up to your lips to kiss his knuckles.
You could’ve laughed at the blush that crossed his features. This man just said the dirtiest things to you without shame, but got so shy over a small kiss to his hand.
When Daryl finally met your eyes, a look of relief showed on his face as he saw the smile that graced your lips. He suddenly collapsed onto his back next to you and brought your face to his in the sweetest kiss ever experienced between you two.
“This wasn’t a one time thing, right?” You asked, furrowing a brow at him.
He pecked your pouted lips again. “Nah, now that I have ya, I ain’t lettin’ ya go.”
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As you and Daryl enjoyed the blissful silence together, tracing fingers along each other’s frames, you both jumped when you heard sticks cracking a couple of feet away.
You both relaxed when you saw that it was the deer that brought you both out here in the first place. You started giggling uncontrollably, scaring the deer away.
Daryl scoffed. “Last time I take ya on a hunt with me, woman.”
You just continued giggling into his chest with the smile that he adored.
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bigfatbimbo · 2 months
Note
God I love your little extended universe of Vox and the reader it's so damn good-- I have a little folder on my phone with a bunch of your work saved for later. It's like a treat
I do agree that Bad Liar seems to be at a nice enough conclusion BUT I second that anon asking for the "fucking Vox so Val can hear" fic. Petty dom reader with her prize.
-🐭
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a/n — Long awaited fic incoming! It’s been like three weeks… jesus.
summary — Reader fucks a very vocal Vox in Val’s porn studio, mainly to be petty because you all can make Vox feel 100x better.
warnings — Smut, pegging, afab reader implied, aka use of a strap on, very self indulgent, small use of ‘mommy’, even smaller use of ‘y/n
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Vox was loud, in and out of bed. You knew that all too well. That’s what, in hindsight, made this whole situation a bad idea.
You were in a backroom of Val’s studio. At first the intention was only to visit Vox during work. However, you did have the strap in your bag and he looked so damn good in his suit. 
To sum up, you couldn’t resist. Pulling him off to subsection of the porn studio, not even bothering to close the door all the way, and bending him over a table to fuck him relentlessly. 
At first he argued, telling you he had to get back to work. But it didn’t take much convincing to get him to take a ‘quick’ break. 
His pants were off, leaving his ass and dick fully exposed to you, but aside from his suit jacket and vest, his button up was still on. His tie was undone, however, and his shirt was only hanging on by three buttons.
“Quiet, Vox. What would anyone say if they saw you like this?” You coo down at him, thrusting deeper into his ass.
He whines loudly at your words, completely disregarding the actual order behind them.
“It’s hard to be quiet when yo—ouz—u’re doing that with your hips—szz—“ He tries to remain coherent, but it didn’t take much for your rhythm to affect his system.
You roll your eyes, leaning in closer and covering his mouth with your hand, rolling your hips once more. He whimpers.
“If you don’t start controlling your volume soon, Vox, I’m gonna have to stop. Got that?” You whisper, cruelly.
He whines, quieter this time, and nods his head. “Good boy,” you praise, grasping his hips harder.
That almost got him to break him promise immediately. He whimpered pathetically and arched back further into you.
“Good, baby. Doing so good, taking orders so well,” You breathe, finding a steady pace to fuck him.
Once again, he whines quietly and mutters something under his breath. You didn’t pick up on it, instead catching a glimpse of something by the doorway, moving in the corner of your eye.
You don’t turn your head fully, instead sparing an unintentional looking glance towards the door. Vox hadn’t noticed, too busy focusing on the dick up his ass. 
You noticed though. And god, it took everything in you not to turn over to the figure and flash a proud smile. No, no, you had to go about this right. It had to be slick.
“Vox, sweetheart, I changed my mind. Be as loud as you want,” you say sweetly, picking up the pace and starting to go faster. 
He whines and glitches out a small, “Yes, f—ffc—fuck. Thank you.” 
You can’t tell if the figure is still there, but you feel a presence around you. And it wasn’t exactly out of character for Valentino to lurk. Fucking prick. You’ll show him, though.
Vox claws dig into the table as you rut into him roughly, still keeping a solid rhythm, but making it more aggressive. It’s an art after all, and you’re sure that damn moth knows. 
“Oh god—zzx— fuck, fuck,” Vox whines, clawing at the table desperately, leaving deep marks. 
That’s when you get an idea. All at once, you stop, and pull out.
“Fuck, why the f—ffz—fuck would you stop—“ Vox’s question is cut off when you flip him over quickly, hoist him up by his thighs, and slam him onto the nearest wall. 
You make sure the doorway has a clear shot of the scene. Not so slowly, you push your strap into Vox once more, he hisses and wraps his arms around your neck instinctively.
You thrust into him with force and, for lack of a better word, talented rhythm. Vox cries out, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, threatening to drip down him screen.
“Oh god, y/n—“ he moaned so loudly you were sure that half the studio could have heard, “y/n—zzf— Fuck. Deeper, fuck—“ 
His incoherent babbles only grew stronger as you planted kisses on his neck and bit down roughly. 
“My pretty boy,” You say, all too loudly, “Doing so good for me baby. Taking me so well.” 
At this point, the tears finally got the best of him, starting to dribble down his screen and he whined pathetically. The lights around you flickered, and you smirked to yourself.
A power outage? Aw, and maybe even during a filming session, how sad. Not really, though. Because Vox deserves to be treated like this, always. No exceptions. And you were doing your part to make sure everyone knew that. 
“You look so fucking stunning, sweetheart,” Vox’s claws scrapped up and down your back, leaving deep marks. 
You try not to hiss too loudly, “Aw, baby. Mommy making you feel that good?” 
He moans and lets out a sob as you fuck into him roughly, “Yes—szz— mommy, feels so good. Please ‘m—“
He cuts himself off by buffering in an almost violent sputter, sending a shock of electricity out. It shocks your body and fully cuts the lights off for a long moment. 
“Fuck,” you almost growl, “Your mine, Vox. You’re fucking mine.” 
Your rhythmic pace, if possible, becomes faster, shooting all the way up to his core. He whines at your comment, gripping onto you harder.
“Say it,” you hiss, nails digging into his hips, surely causing a bruise for tomorrow, “Tell everyone here who you belong to.”
You’re lucky he was so fucked out, because never in a million years would he normally admit to anything worded like that.  However, tonight you were doing an excellent job at fucking with his head.
“You, mommy—zzs— ‘m yours. ‘m yours,” he practically sobbed out. 
“Damn right,” you say lowly, finally sparing a glance to the seemingly empty doorway. No matter, you were sure people hallways down could hear these phrases clear as day. 
“Cum anytime you want baby—“ He didn’t hesitate to let go, sputtering out a mix of moans and malfunctions. 
With that, the power flashed one more time, before completely shutting off. Vox clings onto you for a few more moments, before you feel his body loosen. 
Still having a hold on his thighs, you pull out of him and access the damage. Just as you thought; total blue screen.
No matter, you’d clean up just fine. The feeling of self accomplishment totally overpowered the annoying process of getting him to turn back on. 
This feeling only gets better when you heard a foul shriek from down the hall in your direction. Already smiling, you couldn’t help but begin to laugh. 
You’d practically won. The power had gone out, prohibiting that perverted moth from filming anything, and at the same time stopped him from doing anything to distract himself from that loud pleasured noises Vox was making. 
But most of all, you treated Vox like the princess he is and took care of him well. And that, in a sense, was victory on its own. 
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a/n — YIPPEE GUYS I FINALLY WROTE IT!!
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peterman-spideyparker · 4 months
Text
Labels (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)
Author’s Note: Hi! So, I've kinda put myself on a writing hiatus for a while and, in turn, have limited my time on Tumblr as of late. I was/still kind of am feeling uninspired in terms of writing and ideas, but this one came easily, and it needed to be written and shared before the excitement left me. I still have a million other stories and ideas I want to get going on, but for now, I hope you enjoy this one. :)
Summary: One evening when Matt tries to surprise you with a home cooked dinner date, he's stunned by something you've done for him.
Warnings: Sweet adorable fluff. No use of (Y/N), but it does refer to the reader being feminine/female-identifying
Other Characters: Karen Page
Word Count: 1,158
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“Hello?” you say over the phone, very clearly distracted by whatever is in front of you.
“Hi, angel,” Matt smiles, feeling a weight off of his shoulders when he finally hears your voice when you pick up your desk phone.
“Matt.” The way you say his name lights him up inside. It’s alway so warm, so inviting, so smooth—like when butter spreads perfectly even on a piece of toast. The gentleness of each consonant and vowel that escapes your lips never fails to chip away and brush off the stress of whatever is weighing him down; from his day job to his nightly activities, you—every last bit of you, is his solace.
“I was half afraid that I’d get your answering machine,” he breathes as he leans back in his chair, listening to how you move the receiver from one ear to the other.
“I’m sorry, Matt. Today has just been hectic. Meetings, email approvals, we rearranged some furniture because no one was responding to emails—.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize.”
“I do if it means I worried you. I mean, I must have missed calls and texts on my cell from you if you resorted to my landline.”
“No, not worried. I was just curious if you wanted to go out to dinner tonight. Maybe try that new Italian place that opened up a few blocks from your apartment.”
“I didn’t know there was a new restaurant opening.”
“Yeah,” he lies. “It’s a small place. Intimate, nice.”
“Well, I don’t know how I could say no to that. It sounds like the perfect thing to make me forget today.”
“Take deep breaths, sweetheart. You’ll get through it. I’m here for you.”
“I know,” you breathe. “Listen, I need to get back to work, but I’ll see you tonight.”
“I’ll pick you up at six.”
“Perfect. I love you, Matt.”
“Love you, too.”
You exchange soft goodbyes before hanging up the phone, Matt sliding his cell back into the pocket of his slacks.
“Hey, Karen?” he calls out.
“Yeah?” she responds, sounding as if she’s lost in thought with whatever is at hand.
“What time is it?”
She pauses. “Almost 2:30.”
“You think that you and Foggy will be okay for the rest of the day?”
“I think so.”
“Great,” he says with a smile, standing up and putting on the suit jacket that was hanging on the back of his chair. “I’m heading out. I need to get some groceries to surprise my girlfriend.”
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Matt undoes the last of your door’s locks as the bag of groceries rests on his hips, relieved when the heavy piece of wood starts to swing open. For as frustrating as your day was, Matt secretly hopes that you won’t come home early and catch him in the middle of his surprise; it took him a lot longer to get everything he needed at the store, throwing off his timing. He’d be lucky if he got everything plated by the time you got home. Matt lets out a deep breath as he places the bag of groceries on the counter and takes his glasses off, centering himself to focus on the plan and not let his race against the clock shake him too much. After hanging his jacket on the hooks by the door, he rolls up his sleeves and throws his tie over his shoulder before taking out his phone, tapping at the screen until he finds the recipe he saved for tonight.
As his phone reads off the list of ingredients, he feels over what he grabbed, cursing when he notices that he’s missing garlic powder.
“She has to have some,” he hums. He knows you like to cook, always eager to try new recipes that you find while scrolling on your phone, and therefore always getting new spices and ingredients to make sure your kitchen is stocked for whatever the next interesting dish brings. Lucky for Matt, you two are always over each other’s place, craving one another’s presence, so he knows your apartment almost as well as he knows his own. Turning around to the skinny cabinet where Matt knows you keep your spices, he opens it up and prepares his nose for the strong mix of smells that are about to hit him so he can sniff out what he needs. As his hand extends into the cabinet, what he doesn’t expect to find is small bumps over each and every label. It’s odd, but familiar. Grabbing one of the spices in the front, he carefully takes it off the shelf and runs his fingers over the bumps once more.
Nutmeg.
Matt lets out a shaky breath, tears stinging at his eyes. He reaches up for container after container, running his fingers over all of the labels, finding that he’s able to read them all. By the time Matt grabs the garlic powder, the cabinet is practically empty and he’s crying in the kitchen.
“Matt?” he hears you call tentatively. He didn’t even hear you come in, and now you’re at his side, wrapping him in a hug and holding him close to soothe him. God, he loves when you hold him. Call it being touch-starved, but nothing felt better to Matt than when you have your arms around him. Sure, being in your apartment is comforting—your smell surrounding him and engulfing his senses, but nothing was better than the actual thing, your body against his, skin to skin. “Matty, is everything okay?”
“Uh, yeah,” he sniffles, holding you close and kissing your forehead. “It’s just, uh, well this.”
You pull back slightly from his hug and wipe away some of his tears before peeking down to see what’s in his hands.
“Garlic powder?” you try. “Is it bad?”
“No, no,” he smiles, wiping away some stray tears with the heel of his hand. “It’s great.”
“I thought we were going out to dinner tonight. But with all my spices out, something tells me you might have fibbed.”
“I did fib. I wanted to surprise you with dinner, especially after hearing about your day, but you’re the one that surprised me.” Taking your hand, he gently guides your fingers over the label to where the braille is.
“Oh.” Matt listens to how the blood rushes to your cheeks and how your heart rate picks up. “The label.”
“The label,” he echos softly.
“I finally found a good braille label maker that I liked,” you begin to explain. “I mean, we’re always at each other’s place. I wanted to make my home feel a little more homey for you.”
“You really love me, huh?”
He listens to how you smile from ear to ear. “So much more than you’ll ever know, Matty.”
Putting the garlic powder down, he takes your face in his hands and pulls you in for a deep kiss, your arms happily snaking around him and holding him close.
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