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archie-sunshine · 5 months

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Survey Says-! (18+ Rodimus/EVERYONE)

Chapter 3: Chatterbox (Rodimus/Swerve)

Rodimus is NOT bitter about the results of the crew satisfaction survey, in fact, he’s fully prepared to change! He’s determined to change his crew’s minds, and what better way to do so than to get to know them- in the carnal sense that is.

There are no problems with this plan in Rodimus’s mind. There are many in Ultra Magnus’s. Magnus engages in some unfortunate(for Rodimus) damage control as head of Cybertronian Resources. Rodimus is not easily deterred.

Read on AO3 here! Other Chapters Here!

FIC TAGS: Rodimus/Everyone(But y’know, not like. EVERYONE. Just a lot of various background characters and also more specifically with some others), Takes place post dark cybertron, but pre the whole ship disappearing thing and the mutiny, smut, Chastity, denial, Rodimus is a slut, Ongoing humiliation, HR Violations as comedy, Ultra Magnus is clueless, sticky sexual interfacing, comedy, sexual comedy, dubious consent (if you squint and tilt your head), contains illustrations

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Authors notes: Ok so my personal headcanon is that Swerve can absolutely get it, and the whole crew would probably let swerve hit on some capacity, but he never wants to ask so he's very pent up. I think he and rodimus fuck a lot as well, like out of convenience.

CHAPTER TAGS: rodimus/swerve, blowjobs, oral fixation, subspace(I think??? rodimus gets loopy from how horny he is), dirty talk(but like in a swerve will not shut up kind of way)

Rodimus was adjusting to his punishment quicker than Ultra Magnus had expected. He appeared to be more efficient during his shifts, still fidgeting in the captains chair, but now no longer interfering and bothering those others on duty. Magnus was exceptionally pleased with his work in the past 3 cycles. He could practically already hear the joy coming just around the corner for Rodimus, when his efforts to become more professional rewarded him with the praise the prime so desired.

Ultra Magnus remained still by the captain’s side, listening to him confidently delegating, listening to the tone with which Rodimus ordered Mainframe to adjust their trajectory to closer suit their previous path. A more focused, concentrated expression set itself across Rodimus’s faceplate, a contemplative hand resting over his intake and chin. For once, Rodimus was keeping his field close to the chest, which Ultra Magnus decided must have been an intentional choice to maintain a professional face. The larger bot beamed internally, turning his gaze out to the observation window.

Hazarding a moment of praise, Ultra Magnus sent Rodimus a brief ping.

UM: Your professionalism is noted and appreciated, Captain.

Rodimus stiffened further in his chair, optics briefly flicking to Ultra Magnus before refocusing out the window.

After a moment of quiet, Rodimus responded.

R: Thank you, Magnus.

Ultra Magnus’s spark swelled with pride at Rodimus’s progress. If things were going this well after only 5 cycles, Magnus had no doubts that this punishment would be over sooner than either of them had expected.

“This is somehow worse than I ever could have thought.” Rodimus moaned, faceplate flaring purple with energon as his friends gazed piteously at the magnetizer around his panels. He had propped himself up on one of the table booths at Swerve’s, now being treated as a makeshift examination table as Whirl, Skids, Tailgate, and Swerve crowded around. It was off hours, and the bar was empty, save for the group that had gathered around the ailing captain.

“Is it really that awful?” Skids asked, cocking his head. “I mean… It’s not like it’s really constricting anything, yeah?”

“Well no, not NOW, but when I’m- Y’know, when the junk can’t exactly escape the trunk-” Rodimus gestured unhelpfully over his crotch, earning a stifled snicker from Whirl.

“Yeesh, yeah that sounds tough, Rodimus.” Tailgate winced sympathetically.

“Yeah, it is tough.” Rodimus huffed, crossing his arms over his chassis. “And can you believe ratchet didn’t take it off? My health could have been at risk and he didn’t even consider it!”

“Uh, yeah I can absolutely believe that Ratchet did that.” Skids chuckled.

“He could have at least checked!!” Rodimus glared at Skids, earning a slag eating grin. “I thought I was Ratchet’s friend, I can’t believe he’d let this happen to me.”

“Must be slowing ‘The Rodimus Apology Initiative’ down somethin fierce then, eh, Roddy?” Swerve asked, nudging Tenn in a different direction to mop a half dry energon spill off the ground.

“I’m still trying to squeeze as many meetings in as I can, but they take longer to bounce back from now.” Rodimus sighed, sitting up and going to slide off the side of the table.

“Wait! I bet I could get it off!” Whirl piped up. Rodimus turned to him hopefully. “Just lay back down, trust me.” Whirl snickered, clacking his sharp claws together. Rodimus’ tank squeezed uncomfortably at the idea of those things feeling around his junk.

“Ha Ha, I don’t think so.” Rodimus scoffed, shifting up off the table and stretching. He sat back down on the booth’s seat, snatching his engex cube up and taking a long, laboured swig.

“Y’know roddy, you could always just… not torture yourself with the meetings?” Tailgate pointed out.

“And forfeit connecting with my crew? For shame.” Rodimus placed an offended hand on his own chassis, faceplate aghast.

Skids looked as if he was about to say something as Siren’s voice crackled over the speakers.

“Attention Crew! We are currently on course to pass into a minor cosmic storm in 10 kliks. There is nothing to fear, however, we encourage all those not currently on duty in the engines and bridge to take shelter within their personal hab suite, so as to prevent any damage caused to communal areas. Thank you!”

The group took a moment to process, before sighing and beginning to disperse.

“Be seein you.” Skids nodded, stretching a bit before jogging out of the bar.

“Take care fellas!” Tailgate chirped before trotting away.

“Good luck with you spike issues!” Whirl snickered halfway through his transformation.

Rodimus groaned, slowly taking a long sip of engex. He wasn’t exactly feeling hot in the panels, but all that observation had done something to liven him at least a bit. He felt warm, just on the edge of pleasant and uncomfortable, like an itch you can reach but never seem to satisfy.

Swerve gathered up the empty cubes the group had left, wandering to put them away. He noticed Rodimus was lingering and cleared his vocalizer.

“So uh… wanna come back to mine for some holovids?” Swerve asked.

“Frag yes.” Rodimus answered.

(go to my AO3 for the illustrated version)

It wasn’t as if this was the first time he and Swerve had fooled around like this. Far from it in fact. Whenever there was downtime, the two of them always seemed to be in the right place at the right time to blow off some steam.

This was different though.

“Y’know, he actually ad libbed that line, it was like- Ah- s-slower please- it was like a stroke of genius, right?” Swerve babbled, his clumsy digits petting at the side of Rodimus’s helm. The couch was comfortable under Rodimus’s side, giving his knee joints a much needed break as he laid his helm across Swerve’s lap and attended to the minibot’s spike. The captain lazily dragged his glossa around the side of his shaft, mouthing at the tip gently. His optics felt glazed and unfocused, gazing out at the holovid screen and only halfway understanding what was going on.

Apparently it was a human parody of another human movie, something about their approximation of space travel before they’d really achieved anything in that field outside of throwing some of them to their moon. Rodimus swiped his glossa over Swerve’s tip, gathering the prefluid that had beaded there and swallowing it down.

“A-ah-AND! See, there, they’re like, doin kind of a riff on how in the original movies-” Swerve choked as Rodimus sank his helm down on his spike, taking it easily into his mouth. “Ghh-hah- Roddy-”

Rodimus hummed lowly, indicating for him to keep talking. He didn’t really know why he did, Swerve was a thousand times more annoying like this. He was a lot less chatty when Rodimus was spiking him, and the constant trivia about this movie wasn’t exactly a turn on. Under different circumstances, Rodimus might have been inclined to file this night away in his memory banks as yet another sub par interfacing.

Rodimus felt his fans flare a bit as Swerve’s hand absently stroked over his jaw and neck cabling. Rodimus huffed weakly, dragging his glossa gently up the underside of Swerve’s spike.

“I- hah… I really gotta make you watch Star Wars sometime…” He said, digits stroking over the cables at the back of Rodimus’s neck. “Ouh- I think you’d love Han, he’s like T-t-Taa-ahah- t-totally your style-”

“Mhhmm….?” Rodimus hummed out, slowly pulling his helm back up to lay wet kisses against Swerve’s tip. He was really trying to keep this casual, genuinely, he knew this was just some fun like they usually had… but primus… it felt like he was on fire. Heat oozed from his plating, so much so Rodimus was worried he might melt through the couch cushions. His processor was getting those popups again, warning him of his overcharged frame and his closed panels causing him elevated discomfort, as if he couldn’t feel them himself without the warning.

Rodimus’s optics flickered as Swerve’s digits found a sensitive spot just below his audial. He shuddered and let out a long curl of steam against the minibot’s spike.

“Oh totally,” Swerve panted a bit, grateful for the reprieve, “He’s like a smuggler, but he becomes a hero. It’s all super cool.”

“... cool…” Rodimus agreed, tilting his helm into Swerve’s touch.

“Honestly though? You might like Star Trek better, it’s like the human version of whatever we’re doin, y’know? Explorin the universe?” Swerve’s servo gently urged Rodimus back to work. Rodimus gratefully took the spike back into his mouth halfway, bobbing his head. He was lucky for the other mech’s lack of endowment, or his throat would have been shredded by then. He savoured the blocky seams and soft mesh of Swerve’s shaft, greedily laving his glossa against a flickering biolight and shivering at the lick of charge that rippled down his throat.

The lack of attention Rodimus’s array was getting left his whole frame feeling sensitive. Each gush of prefluid Swerve left on his tongue left the bigger mech’s intake tingling pleasantly, like his whole head was filled with comfortable static. His glossa in particular felt afferent, conducting each spark of charge down through Rodimus’s frame and leaving him quivering. Somewhere in his slowed down processor, his mind produced the image of him overloading just from oral sensation alone. Rodimus whimpered and squeezed his legs tighter around his panels.

“You ok, cap?” Swerve asked, finally turning his face to look at him. He went to place a comforting hand on rodimus’s shoulder plating, only to draw it back with a hiss. “Ah- you’re burnin up-!”

Rodimus sluggishly pried himself off Swerve’s spike, licking his own drool from his dermas. Primus, even they felt sensitive. “‘M fine, Swerve.” He said, immediately going back to mouthing at Swerve’s tip.

“H-hah- If you're uh- If you’re sure- just- Ah- Y’know um-” He reset his vocalizer, digits stroking over the backs of his forehelm finials. “It’s cool if you wanna stop- I don’t want you to overheat or anything-”

I don’t want to stop, I want to keep going, I want to keep using my mouth like this, I want to taste your-

Rodimus pulled back again, just briefly. “I can’t leave a bot hurting like this.” He murmured, tucking one of his arms up under Swerve’s leg and gently rubbing an overcharged digit against Swerve’s valve. Swerve made a noise like his engine was stalling, servo suddenly tightly grasping Rodimus’s finial.

“J-just focus on the spike, Roddy-” Swerve gasped out, steam hissing out through his gritted dentas. Rodimus drew his hand back. On another night he might have pouted about it, but the bartender’s digits gripping at his finials made his processor feel even fuzzier than it already was.

“Uhuh…” Rodimus mumbled, swallowing thickly before returning to his task.

Swerve’s thumb caressed gently up the backside of his finial, grazing at the tip. A lick of charge fizzled between their contact. “I don’t wanna finish too soon… wanna keep your intake on me-ah- as long as possible…”

Rodimus bit back a needy whine, feeling his fans bursting out another gust of hot steam. He rested his helm against Swerve’s retracted modesty panel and licked slowly at the topside of his spike.

“Y’know, its nice you’re doin’ these apologies, I can’t remember the last time ya sucked my spike… you could work on bein’ more generous.” Swerve chuckled breathlessly, canting his hips up to smear the tip of his spike against Rodimus’s cheek.

I never do this because you never shut up. Rodimus thought to himself dazedly.

“... uhuh?” He mewled out, tilting his helm to lay an apologetic kiss against Swerve’s tip.

“Yeah, with an intake like this? ‘S downright greedy not to share.” He scolded teasingly, his servo wandering off of Rodimus’s helm and over his spoiler. Rodimus shuddered, his optics flickering and resetting without permission as Swerve dragged his digits through the gathering coolant there.

Rodimus stopped trying to form coherent thoughts at that point. He let out a desperate, weak moan, obediently licking and mouthing at Swerve’s spike as the minibot groaned lowly in approval.

The kliks came slower after that. It felt like he’d switched his processor off, his movements sluggish and lingering, desperate to taste and feel every crevice and edge and cable Swerve’s spike had to offer. He could distantly feel his panels were wet and leaking again, but Swerve’s digits were petting his spoiler and back plating and finials so gently, melting every worry away.

He could distantly hear Swerve still talking, mentioning the movie, trivia, calling the actors by name like old friends. Occasionally Swerve would say something nice about Rodimus’s intake, or his frame, sending sparks of charge down his overheated body and making him wriggle.

Rodimus felt Swerve’s servo shift, finally urging him to go faster. He wrapped his dermas tight around Swerve’s shaft and began to rock his head. He let his optics flicker off, a dazed giddiness gathering in his overheated processor as he swallowed more and more of the other bot’s prefluid.

“-Rodimus- oh primus- frag-!” Swerve’s vocalizer was raw and glitchy, his hips no longer able to keep from bucking up into his captain’s intake.

Rodimus hollowed his cheeks and pushed his head down further, greedily swallowing around Swerve’s twitching, straining spike.

“A-ah- Oh- Frag, Roddy, I’m gonna- fuck- Like that-!” Swerve babbled out, digits going taught around Rodimus’s spoiler and finials.

Rodimus’s frame surged with excess charge as Swerve unloaded into him, filling his throat with sticky, hot transfluid as the minibot tensed and gasped out steam. Rodimus’s body was alight with energy, his plating flaring and clamping and shaking with unspent charge. It had nowhere to go but out into heat through his desperate, wheezing fans, unable to vent off the heat fast enough. Rodimus felt like his processor was melting, thick and gooey and slow like blown glass. He moaned dumbly.

Swerve finally went still, chassis heaving as he tried to regain control of his vents. “Primus- haaaaaahh….” He wheezed, shakily letting go of Rodimus’s kibble. “... you ok, cap?”

Rodimus pulled back, clearing his vocalizer. “Nnnhhaaahh….” came his glitchy reply. He reset his vocalizer again, offlining his optics and shaking his helm as he began to finally dismiss the army of popups in his processor. “J-just peachy, bud, don’t you worry.”

Rodimus shifted, beginning to return to a sitting position. He made a point not to acknowledge how drenched his thighs were, or the puddle he’d left on Swerve’s couch, in the hopes that Swerve wouldn’t notice.

“Good god, Roddy, what the frag did I do that made that happen?” Swerve snickered. Rodimus cursed internally.

“Shut up.” He mumbled, embarrassment hot in his tanks.

“I thought you were exaggerating about the whole leaking thing, man, you should get that checked out-”

“I did!!” Rodimus sniped hoarsely, still trying to get his vocalizer under control. “Ratchet graciously told me he wouldn’t take it off and gave me some stuff to keep me from overheating.”

“You could ask First Aid?” Swerve suggested, sliding off the couch and closing his panels.

“... I guess. I doubt he’d do anything about it, he’d just defer to Ratchet.” Rodimus huffed. He was still trying to cycle his fans back down. There was steam hissing from between his plating in embarrassing, non-vent places. He must have looked obscene.

Swerve thought for a long, uncharacteristically quiet moment. He returned to the couch with a towel to begin mopping up Rodimus’s mess. The captain bit down on his lower derma to keep quiet as the soft fabric pressed against his panels and inner thighs. He’d never missed that awful, painful overload Blaster had given him more. “Well if you can’t convince any medical staff to get it off ya, there’s always the scientists?”

Rodimus raised his brow ridges. He hadn’t considered that. He began to do the calculations in his processor. Perceptor might be a hard sell, but Brainstorm might be more inclined. He didn’t know Nautica well enough to judge her thoughts on the matter, but it couldn’t hurt to find out.

“That… Is a very good point, Swerve.” Rodimus mused, a scheming smirk slowly pulling at his dermas.

“As you can see, the damage to the hull is negligible, however, if left, could pose some problems in the future.”

Rodimus nodded sagely at Mainframe’s words. “We’ll slow the engines a bit then, send out some maintenance crew to the hull to patch the worst parts. We can dock somewhere later on to address the more minor stuff when we have the time.”

“Yes, Captain.” Mainframe nodded.

“Blaster, send the maintenance crew my orders, please.” Rodimus called, turning on his heel as Blaster relayed the message. He made his way back to the captain’s seat, about to sit down when the shift change ping appeared in his processor.

Right on time, Megatron entered the bridge, nodding to Ultra Magnus as he passed him. Rodimus bit back a frown and also nodded back at Megatron’s curt greeting.

Rodimus cleared his vocalizer a bit, wandering up to Ultra Magnus. “I’m going to consult with Brainstorm about fixing the ship’s shield generators.” He lied, keeping his tone professional and stiff. It felt more like he was doing an Ultra Magnus impression than anything else.

A little spark of guilt bloomed in his chassis when the larger mech’s dermas quirked up in the smallest of smiles. He could feel the unearned pride in Magnus’s field. “Very good, sir.”

Rodimus offered a halfhearted smile, before turning and strolling off down the hallway. It took about 2 kliks of considering how easily he’d get that magnetizer off before all his guilt melted away into giddy excitement, and his faceplate was set in a smug, impish grin.

There was absolutely no way this could go wrong.

#transformers #valveplug #my fic #my art #rodimus #swerve #rodimus/swerve #rodiswerve #/nsfw #mtmte #transformers mtmte #maccadam

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yuzukult · 3 years

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acquitted love || sjn & reader

title: acquitted love pairing: johnny suh x reader genre: fluff, angst, co-workers!au, lawyer!au, one-sided enemies to lovers word count: 8.7k warnings: some language/cursing, brief mentions of sex but there's no actual discussions or explicit conversations of the topic, but generally pg-13 prompt: you absolutely hate johnny suh. but when your boss pairs you two up together for one of the highest profile cases, you’re left working close with your enemy but he doesn’t seem to think that way of you. a/n: tada!! i wrote this for the @/ficscafe fic exchange event!! so @urlocalnctstan , hope you enjoy this !! i tried to write it according to what you put as your preferences, but honestly T_T it was so hard bc i was just not getting any ideas!! hopefully this is something you’d like :D enjoy !!

“God, isn’t he just… so attractive?”

Along with a click on your tongue, you feign a hit in Hyeri’s direction, whose reflexes have gotten so much faster in the past couple years of knowing you and it shows when she cowers underneath your arm. She gifts you that not-so-apologetic smile, full of mischievousness because she knows no matter how annoying she can be, you’ll still love her nonetheless.

“Why do you keep talking about Johnny? You know he’s banned as a topic of our conversations.”

Hyeri rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her white frilled blouse. You know that she doesn’t actually inhabit any romantic feelings for Johnny, but she has a problem of thinking without the usage of her brain when she sees a hot guy.

Not that you think Johnny is hot.

No.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t think he’s at least an ounce of smokin’ hot.” She’s unraveled her arms by now, poking your shoulder incessantly to grasp onto your attention as you're tapping on the buttons of the copier machine. “I bet if you asked him out, he’d say yes.”

You briefly glare at Hyeri. “You realize that he and I don’t get along, right? He keeps finding stupid loopholes in the system to win his cases. He thinks with his heart, not his head, and sometimes, with whatever that thing was in his pants.” And, not to mention that he walks out the court with that big grin stretched from cheek to cheek, giving the ‘good news’ to your well-respected boss (who you desperately seek the approval of but that’s a different story for another time). And every single time, she gives him that nod of appreciation, that ‘nod of approval’ if you will, when it should be given to you and not to some asshole who fucks his way to victory.

“But he’s so hot—”

You narrow your eyes at your friend, and with a stern voice, you call out, “Hyeri.”

She shrugs. “Honestly, though, he’s hella smart. He’s got a job here, and works under your boss. It’s Park, Kim & Associates—notice how Park is first, because she’s a fucking genius. She only picks the intelligent ones to work under her. Why do you think I’m still working for Mr. Kim?”

Park Seohyun and Kim Gonghyun—one of the biggest lawyers in the region, decided to join together to build their own law firm from the ground up. They were both highly respected in their field; Kim Gonghyun spent years of his life being mentored by one of the most famous judges, and as for Park Seohyun, she was, simply put, admirable because of the obstacles she has overcome to make her dreams of working in law to be real. Being a woman, young, and beautiful, she’s had her fair share of encounters with people who disregard her potential, that is until she met Gonghyun—who, admittingly is an old man who seems like he’d be traditional, sexist, even, but he proves to also make people realize how wrong they are with their impression of him.

But, as Mr. Kim is getting older, he’s gotten a bit… lazy.

In fact, he’s been slacking so much that he’s gotten a new rep in the office—if he was your direct supervisor, or your supervisor was under him, you were on the side of the office where all the easier, uncomplicated cases were assigned. Which meant that there was a slight possibility that your talents and skills weren’t as sharp and exceptional as you thought they were.

And well, Hyeri works directly underneath Mr. Kim.

Hyeri doesn’t want a heavy workload, despite the fact that there’s a plethora of files on her desk, stacked up one onto another as tall as her PC tower, and they were all open and closed cases—needless to say that she didn’t mind it.

“Okay, but you got offered a position under Seohyun. Do you really think you’re not wasting your potential?”

Hyeri scoffs. “Never. At least, not now. I’m still in my twenties, I’d like to enjoy my youth while I can, for your information.”

You quirk a brow. “And does any of that pertain fucking Johnny? The hot guy, so you claim?”

She immediately has her hand covering your mouth and you scowl. “Shhhhh, he works here!”

You bite the flesh of her hand and Hyeri instantly retracts. “You think I don’t know my archenemy works here? He sits directly across from my office—I get the best view of the guy and I’m not even one of his fangirls.”

“You’re not gonna be one of those girls who claim they’re different because they don’t like him but then end up falling for him anyway… are you?”

Your hand goes up and Hyeri crouches down.

“Stop it.”

“Seriously though! It’s the classic e2l love story,” she has her hands gesturing in front of her like she’s making an imaginary rainbow, “Two lawyers, constantly butting heads, accept each other’s differences and learn to love—“

“The fuck is an ‘e2l’?”

“Enemies to lovers.”

“Are you high? Stop spitting nonsense.” This time, you’re waving the stack of papers that finish printing in front of her face. “Meet me for lunch later. But if you keep talking about my archenemy and I falling in love, you can kiss a free meal goodbye.”

Hyeri gasps.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Maybe. Just maybe, Hyeri might be a tiny smidge right when she says Johnny is handsome. Just a bit though, because she can’t get credit for something like that.

He’s dyed his hair this shade of brunette that sort of reminds you of roasted chestnuts on a cold, winter day, sitting inside of a cooker outside of your childhood home, baking along with some sweet potatoes your mom had gotten from a farmer’s market nearby. Johnny has this focused gaze attached to the screen of his monitor; there’s a dip in the fronts of his brows, lips tightened into a straight line, and constant switching back and forth from the computer while taking notes down in a book that’s laid open in front of him.

You wonder what’s running through his mind, or well, you’re more interested in what files he has sprawled out on top of his desk.

Truthfully, if it hadn’t been obvious enough, you weren’t quite a fan of Johnny Suh and it’s mostly due to his work ethic. He’d been notorious for his reputation of sleeping around—especially with the opposing side—so it’s hard to convince yourself that he didn’t win the case because of his actual capabilities, but it’s because he pulled some strings.

And Johnny doesn’t put much effort into denying it either.

Albeit deep down, you were a teeny bit envious of his confidence. He struts around the courtroom with ease, and when he presents his position, there’s no staggering in his voice—it’s always crisp and clean, weighted with nothing but credence, and never straying from his initial perspective. It’s never a lack of poise, it’s consistently the look he goes for; from the hand gestures and the furrowed brows, to the rhetorical questions in the end of certain statements that has the speculators and jury sitting at the edge of their seat, Johnny had a talent for performing in the courtroom, but that doesn’t mean anything when the way he gets to the success isn’t ethical.

Just at that moment, his eyes lift from the screen and meet yours.

There isn’t any hesitation when you scramble to grab the remote controller, and the shades drop over the windows instantaneously.

“Fuck,” you mutter underneath your breath, tossing the remote onto your desk and shaking your hands after. What if he thought you were admiring him? Maybe he didn’t see. Yeah. It was for a brief second, and with how close your offices were to each other, it would be common to accidentally lock eyes… right?

Interrupting your thoughts, the office phone rings and it nearly startles the living soul out of you. But before you reach for it, your head tilts to the side curiously because the extension number is familiar—it’s Park Seohyun’s, your boss.

What could she be calling for?

You don’t remember fucking something up—but to be fair, half the times, you never really know if you’ve actually fucked up until someone with steaming ears and a crimson face comes storming in. So… did you do something good? Again, you don’t think that’s right either, because other people would’ve made comments about it.

Deciding to swallow your nerves, you pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Seohyun never fails to be bubbly, and you could never mimic her energy. You definitely had to be born with that kind of enthusiasm. “I have a favor. Hop into my office.”

Leaned back in her leather swivel chair, she had her fingers laced with each other while resting over her stomach. Johnny stands beside you (and you do your best to not look directly at him, especially after that weird staring thing), and you both feel like kids being lectured by parents from how still you are. Her office is huge, probably the size of both yours and Johnny’s combined; with ceiling to floor windows, cases of books that line the perimeter, not to mention the humongous ass couch that practically covers the other half of the room, and her desk was so wide, you estimate about four monitors would fit on there with still additional space for work. That wasn’t even the best part—the view of the city looks almost like a generic lockscreen of a Windows computer, and you’re not even sure why she goes home at night when she basically has a penthouse here.

“As you know, I have a favor.”

“Right,” Johnny retorts, mostly as a filler in the awkward silence. “So… what’s the favor?”

She pulls a box from her purse; square, black and made from a leather material with a lock pad stitched into it, something you’ve never seen before, and she slides the passcode in, then it pops the lid open. A key (a… very small one) sits in the velvety cushion, with nothing else occupying the space with it, and it looks comical. She uses this to open the very top drawer of her desk, and as she pulls using the handle, there’s another box inside, but this time, metal instead of leather, but still black.

What the fuck?

It seems Johnny shares the same thoughts, because he sneaks a glance over at you.

“You see,” Seohyun begins, pressing on the digital keys of the box until there’s a beep at the end and the case hisses open. “There’s a lot of security for this. Which means you understand the importance of it.”

Then, she picks up four manila envelopes and lies on the surface of her wooden top desk. “I have a family emergency to attend to this upcoming week. I’m boarding a flight tonight. So I’m leaving the Hwang v. Yoon case to the two of you.”

“Fuck—”

“The what?”

You and Johnny are sputtering out of shock. The Hwang v. Yoon case is the biggest case that the firm is involved in currently, and the only people involved in it have been Seohyun and Gonghyun. It’s been on every social media platform you could think of; from Facebook to Twitter, TikTok to Instagram—there’s even this weird website for emo/grunge teens or strange kids that like writing fanfic called Tumblr, and whatever that is, it’s discussed on there too.

“What about Gonghyun?”

Seohyun scoffs, closing the drawer and dropping the key back into her special box. Where do you even get a box like that? “He can’t handle this alone. So I’m kicking him off until I come back. I thought about letting the two of you work with him, but his ego is so inflated, it’ll get in the way of our chances of winning. It’s easier if it was just me and him, but seeing that things at home aren’t well, I’m going to need you two to step up to the plate.”

The room goes quiet. The only sounds you hear are the muffled noises of a typical bustling office outside the thick walls of Seohyun’s office, and at first, excitement rushes through your blood because Seohyun thought of you taking over a special, high profile case.

Albeit, another realization gets soaked up, and it’s that Johnny also came to mind, and that because it’s such an important case, the two of you would be… working… many… hours… together.

Maybe you should back out of it—but then again, this is such a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Imagine winning this— it wouldn’t be good for just the law firm, it’d be good for you too. Your name, in articles on these big fancy news websites, perhaps even on new channels, talking about how you, this amazing lawyer, won the Hwang v. Yoon case.

But then you’re snapped back into reality when Johnny leans over to take the envelopes from Seohyun.

If your name is on those platforms, so is Johnny’s.

God, this guy just ruins everything, doesn’t he?

“We’ll take care of it, Seohyun. You can trust us,” he says assuringly, a smile tugging on each corner of his lips with that dazzling gaze. “We’ll be at our best.”

Kiss ass.

If you had the option, you wouldn’t be spending your Saturday night here at work, in one of those conference rooms with a long table in the middle, a big projector that displays on the wall, and a random black leather loveseat couch that lines the one corner in case there’s too many occupants.

Especially since the person who’s accompanying you is Johnny Suh.

There’s probably a lot of people who would kill to be in your position (Hyeri being one of them), but you dread it. Not to be that person, but what’s so special about him anyway? What? He’s tall, has some muscles, long luscious hair that he can slick back with that sultry stare—wait, what?

“Alright, moving on…” From what? You guys just started? It’d been clear with Seohyun that the mornings would be dedicated to other cases, but nights would be considered overtime and where you’d zoom in your focus on Ms. Hwang’s justice. “Let’s take a look at the facts here.”

Johnny slips off his blazer, hanging it on the back of one of the chairs as you’re seated in another, leaning back comfortably with an arm resting on the table. He loosens the first few buttons of his dress shirt before folding up the sleeves, and that’s when you notice a little thing in the inner crook of his elbow—is that a fucking sunflower? Is that what he uses to reel girls in? That he’s soft enough to have a pretty little flower etched onto his gentle, silky and supple—

“Okay,” he says, interjecting into your thoughts with a laser pointer in his hand. He taps on the space bar of his laptop that mirrors what’s on his screen, but then, that’s when you realize what’s on the slides.

There’s a collage of pictures, mostly street, casually walking themed ones, but the common factor was that they were of Yoon Changmin, the man you guys were up against. They were all paparazzi-like photos, which begs the question, how did he get pics like this, and why did he get them?

“What’s the point of this?” you ask, voice laced with nothing but suspicion.

“We gotta get into the mind of the enemy.” You wanna get into the mind of your enemy, too.

You gesture to the one image of Changmin with an arm around his girlfriend and a finger up his nose. “Seems like he’s trying to reach inside of his head instead of us. These are just everyday pictures, Johnny. What’s that going to do for us?”

“Well,” he begins, turning to look at the wall of ‘evidence’. “You see—wait, holy shit.”

Freezing in the midst of reaching for your coffee, your head jolts in the direction of your partner. “What? What is it?”

“Holy shit,” he exclaims, “Hoooooooooly shit. Why didn’t I see this before? This changes everything.”

Furrowing your brows, you’ve given up getting your drink and dropped your hands onto the table. “Tell me, what is it?”

“This is a game changer.”

“Johnny,” you call out sternly, and his eyes link with yours before he instantly points to a particular picture with his red laser pointer.

“Look at that.” There’s pride saturated in his words, but when you look at what he’s indicating, your body slouches in disappointment.

Why the hell was he directing your attention onto Changmin’s thighs? Surely, there’s no denying that they were attractive—you recall that his alibi was at the gym that very night of the crime.

“What? He’s guilty for showing off his toothpick legs?” They were lean, you never said they were muscular.

“No,” he retorts, slightly irritated by your response as he rolls his eyes. “Look at his pants.”

“Okay…”

“They’re jean shorts.”

There’s a pregnant pause, but the expression on your face is so loud it can’t be hidden.

Johnny continues, “That’s a fashion crime.” He says it as if it’s an obvious fact known by many. “Not to mention that it’s fucking raw hem. He should be arrested.”

Suddenly, your opinion of him thinking too much with his heart dissipates because it seems like he’s thinking out of his ass instead. Did he win those cases out of pity? How did this guy even pass the bar? How about law school? How the hell did he even get into law school?

“I don’t think—”

“Listen, alright, just hear me out,” he’s got the palms of his hands resting flat on the surface of the table, doing his best to gain your full undivided attention. “Only assholes wear jean shorts. They flaunt that shit around like they own the place, but they’re horrendous pieces of clothing that should not be on a male’s body. I don’t care what you say, what your opinion is, because that is a fact.”

Puffing your cheeks, you feel at a loss. If Johnny is who you had to get this done, it feels like you’re not going to be finding much evidence any time soon.

“Okay, if… if that’s how you want to play it, then show me the evidence—other than those 2012 cut off denim shorts.”

He reaches over to hit his space bar again, then with a wink and a slide change, he leans closer to you and says with that deep, honeyed voice, “Gladly.”

You hate admitting when you’re wrong.

Ironically, you concede and will confess when you actually are, but it doesn’t mean that you enjoy it. For example, when Hyeri claims that the intern Mark had a crush on you, you quickly waved her off, stating something along the lines of, “I’m too intimidating; there’s better chances of him being scared of me than ever finding me attractive.” And then a week later, you owed Hyeri free lunch at that hip ramen place downtown because Mark had approached your desk that very morning with a bouquet of red roses flowers for you, a cheeky grin glued to his face with pools of hearts in his eyes, and ready to ask you on a date because it was the day after his internship had ended. Naturally, it wasn’t fun rejecting that poor college boy.

But, you won’t say you find Johnny interesting or handsome. Or that there’s potential when it came to possibly (just barely the slightest smidge) that you’d ever consider asking Johnny out. He’s your enemy here, you’ve mentioned that a multitude of times, and you stand firm on that very declaration, despite the fact that sometimes when he gets too close, your breath gets caught in your throat and you feel like you can’t get whatever’s lodged in out.

Albeit it’s not the whole “you guys are gonna end up together” comment that Hyeri makes and resulting in you denying it afterwards, it’s that Johnny might… be a decent lawyer.

He’s not the best one you’ve seen; the stupid revelation he had on the first day working on the case about the jean shorts is evidence for it, but it’s the days following that were slowly changing your perspective on him.

When you said, “He thinks too much with his heart more than with his head,” it was 100% correct.

When meeting with potential witnesses, you recognized that Johnny empathizes with people often; when they cry and start panicking from being overwhelmed, he's quick on his feet to put an arm around them, share reassuring words, and have them back to normal in record’s time.

And, well… you? You’re the one making them cry in the first place.

You don’t want to fully take the blame for being the cause of their tears, but people need to hear what’s happening, and the very detail that they can’t even handle this information probably means they’re not worthwhile as a key witness.

Johnny, of course, thinks otherwise.

He believes that these people should have a voice (although you’ve alluded that they might be more useless than helpful), and putting them on the stand with Yoon Changmin there would change the view of the jury to supporting Hwang Naeri.

“Listen, if we get these people to sign the form, we’d get witnesses and it’ll help Naeri,” Johnny claims, frantically moving his arms annoyingly as he talks, trying his best to express the gravity of the situation, “and maybe, maybe, money wouldn’t be how Changmin wins, but how he loses. We can’t have another person with jean shorts walking on the streets of our city like this—they deserve to go to prison.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Why does this always revert back to the jean shorts?”

“It always has to do with jean shorts,” he snaps back matter-of-factly. “Any straight guy wearing jean shorts with that much goddamn confidence has done some wrong in their lives.”

“Right, but I’m pretty sure that the crimes he did are mainly the reason why he’s being prosecuted against.”

“Jean shorts are the windows to the soul.”

“I’m almost 100% sure that eyes are the windows to the soul, but whatever. If you genuinely believe that the women we met today would benefit our case, then… okay. Let’s bring them to the stand.”

On the contrary to you, Johnny doesn’t have a hard time convincing witnesses to testify. You see the way that he works; those kind eyes directed at the participants, the pools of chocolate were sweet, saturated in nothing but tenderness and warmth, then he does that weird thing where he reaches for their hands and cups them before the words that escapes from his lips are enough to swoon them to stand in front of a courtroom.

Maybe, just maybe, there’s a method to his so-called madness.

Aggression and bluntness don’t work, it seems, because when you’re the one attempting to convince these people to go against the man that had done them wrong, they’re less willing to do it. Something about ‘moving on,’ and ‘not wanting to relive those memories again,’ but if it was you, you’d want justice. Then again, not everyone is like you, and not everyone thinks like you, and spending this abundance of time with Johnny is slowly getting you to ease into that perspective.

So… the initial impression you had of him may have been wrong.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re developing some feelings for him, just as Hyeri predicted.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

His abrupt personal question is enough to have the coffee spill into your mouth to slide down the ‘wrong throat’ because you’re choking, hand on your chest as you’re tackling to regain your breath again and Johnny only stares in disbelief, blinking blankly. “Are… are you okay?”

You glare at him through a hooded gaze. “Well,” you clear your throat once more. “Now, I am.”

“Cool.” He nods, retracting his hand so he could rub your back soothingly, deciding it’s best to stay away. “Are you going to answer my question?”

Quirking a brow, your head tilts slightly in puzzlement. “Why are you asking this?”

Johnny shrugs. “Isn’t it weird that we’ve hung out with each other for a whole week—stayed here for nights and we both don’t know anything about each other?”

Tapping your fingers against the wooden top table, you sigh. Maybe he’s got a point; after all, “Keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer,” right?

“No, I’m single.”

Johnny’s face suddenly brightens, ears perked, and his body straightens its posture in his seat at this revelation. “Oh, uh, I didn’t know that. You seemed busy in your personal life, so I, uh… was just wondering.” He looked anxious, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. “I, um, I’m single too, by the way, in case you’re wondering.” You weren’t.

The plethora of cardboard and plastic boxes scattered across the table was a representation of the night. It’s been long, exhausting, and messy, mostly because it’s a Friday night, the hearing was on Monday, and the two of you were nowhere near close to having enough to present to the court. In fear of disappointing Seohyun, the two of you agreed to stay over the office for the weekend to cram work for the case. There’s no denying that the atmosphere is weirder on the weekends, especially since, well, no one really comes here on the weekends. Johnny had to use the bathroom earlier and ran into the cleaning lady and she nearly shit her pants because she didn’t think anyone was here, so she had music blasting in her headphones.

Johnny is… interesting. He makes you laugh—or well, want to laugh, but you don’t give him that sense of satisfaction—and he’s smart but in his own weird way. He’s not like the other lawyers you’ve met, or any of the law students you attended University with because he’s more lighthearted and free-spirited than the rest, taking life in strides instead of just overwhelming himself in the abundance of stress that work brings.

He’s entirely the opposite of you.

And maybe you could learn something from the guy, but there’s something in you that brews hatred toward him. Possibility that you resent how easy he makes being a lawyer seem when you’re struggling in your day-to-day life to make things work.

But it’s way too fucking hard when he’s just… like that.

Despite all of that, he’s very generous and kind toward you. On rough days, he delivers your coffee order, the one you always get because he remembers what you asked the intern to get for you the last time, and he’s good at identifying when you’re just having that kind of day. You eventually learn he has a photographic memory (fucking show off), so when he saw that crumpled napkin with scribbles of what you want in that dumb intern’s hand, it wasn’t hard to remember. Which, by the way, is how he’s able to get into the most prestigious school for undergrad, manage to pass the bar so easily, and get into law school effortlessly.

And knowing this information sort of angers you more.

You know this isn’t his fault—he’s been blessed with a trait that people desire, one that you also yearn for, but the lucky ones get handed a lot of things in life. You wonder if he’s the type of guy who wins girls easily after matching with them on dating sites because of this stupid ass ‘photographic memory.’ Does he sleep with them right after? Does it ever get serious?

You shrug your shoulders and shake your head. You shouldn’t even let these strange thoughts haunt you, especially when you don’t even like him.

He’s a spoiled brat who gets everything handed to him on a silver platter.

So you’re left counting the remaining days until the trial so you don’t ever have to work with Johnny Suh this closely again.

Okay, well, it’s evident that bad luck is glued to your side because after you win the Hwang v. Yoon case for your law firm with that asshole, Seohyun is so impressed. So goddamn impressed that she insists that all the high profile cases are to be given to both you and Johnny.

To work as a team.

Together.

Jesus, this is Hell for you.

Surely, the promotion and raise that came along with it was definitely a plus, but it has you wondering if it’s even worth it. He’s been your unspoken enemy since the first day, and although you think you’re pretty forthright about your hatred for this guy, he can’t seem to read social cues.

When you’re pushing the double doors into the conference room the two of you often spend working on cases in, you expect Johnny to be ready for another day. But strangely enough, Johnny doesn’t have his laptop out or any of the notebooks sprawled across the table.

“Um,” you slide the strap of your bag off your shoulder and onto the spare chair. “Did you come late or something?”

He takes in a deep breath like he’s been holding back something. “We need to talk.”

There’s worry inscribed into his features; from the crease in between his brows, to his pursed lips, and eyes soaked in concern, almost like he’s got bad news to share and it has your stomach in knots. Was it that the case was thrown out? It couldn’t be, right? You both worked hard, presented your stance to the point that the jury and the judge were in awe with your findings. Sure, you had to cover Johnny’s mouth right before he was about to go off in a tangent about jean shorts, but overall, it was a good win, a hard one to go back on and pull out the wrongs of it. So what was it?

“I’m quitting our partnership.”

You blink. “What?”

He gestures to the room with his hands as if there’s anything out to reference. “This thing. Our work. The big profile cases. The famous stuff. I told Seohyun that I won’t be doing it anymore and she can revoke the promotion and the raise.”

You’re still not catching on. “… Why?” Was it something you did? Yeah, you weren’t a big fan of Johnny either, but were you so bad that he decided to not go through with the raise because of you?

“Because,” he pushes his blazer back, hands sliding into the front pockets of his navy blue trousers. “There’s a policy put into place. Those who are on the same cases cannot have any personal relations with each other that extend past friendships.”

“We’re not even friends?” With confusion written across your face, your head tilts to the side. “I’m not… I’m not catching on here.”

“I like you.”

Startled, the words you want to say are stolen out of your mouth. You’re left with a mixture of perturbation and bewilderment, uncertain where to go from there because Johnny asked for the removal of both a promotion and additional money that could be so good for his career… and it’s all because he has a crush on you?

“You quit the best thing that could’ve happened to you because you like me?”

“Yeah,” Johnny states calmly, sucking in his cheeks for a brief moment. “Ain’t that romantic?”

You scoff. “No. Absolutely not. You’re insane! Why would you do yourself dirty like that? Use your head, Johnny, you’re constantly thinking with that stupid heart of yours, and hate to break it to you, but it won’t get you anywhere.” Combing your hair with your fingers, you let out a sigh. “Go ask Seohyun for the position back. Say you made a mistake and—”

“I’m not asking her for the position back.”

Johnny doesn’t make any sense to you. “What? Why wouldn’t you do that?

“Because,” he laughs in disbelief, not because he thinks you’re funny. “I’m not going to force myself to work with a girl that I keep falling for. That’s self-inflicting, you realize that, right? You’re amazing, but you can seriously be so dense sometimes.”

“I’m dense? You just told one of the best law firms in the city that you don’t want to work on the important cases anymore because you have a stupid crush on your partner!”

“If we were on a team with more people, maybe it’d be different. But it’s just us two. You think I won’t fall any harder? That’s not easy. Every time I see you working, I swear I could be hopelessly in love with you one day.”

Your heart stops for a second.

This is Johnny Suh you were talking about here. One of the claimed best lawyers in your office, one of the most intelligent people that Hyeri has ever met, and Seohyun evidently backs this up because she’s given him so much recognition for his work. He’s the guy who worked with you to win the Hwang v. Yoon case, he’s the one who brought up the stupid jean shorts that seemed so far-fetched at the time, but they were a crucial detail everyone missed—it so happened that when Changmin bought those dumb shorts, there was evidence of at least one of his crimes in that store from the security cameras.

Any cis-gendered male who wears jean shorts can’t be trusted, according to Johnny.

And candidly speaking? You couldn’t even deny that. Your past two ex-boyfriends both wore jean shorts and the one cheated on you and the other one was caught money laundering.

“Listen,” he begins, interrupting your foggy thoughts. “I’m not asking you to tell me you like me back. I’m telling you because you should know, and that I can’t go on any further without letting you know. I’ll, uh, be in my office. Seohyun said she’d find a replacement for me.”

Hyeri is his replacement.

She’s great company and does a good job of helping you with whatever you need, but that was just it. Hyeri followed you, she never led with you, just as Johnny does. Agreeing with everything you say, mindlessly trailing behind everything you do—Hyeri was smart, but she couldn’t figure out how to think for herself when it came to these bigger cases because she’s never been given such a responsibility. But you couldn’t even blame her because it’s what she was told to do under Gonghyun.

“You said that you think Maeri snatched the bracelet?”

“No, I said if you watched the security video that the jewelry store submitted, it clearly shows that Maeri snatched the bracelet. Not that I ‘think.’ The proof is right there, Hyeri.”

She nods, resuming back to her work on the computer. Truthfully, Hyeri felt more like an assistant than a co-worker, someone to bounce ideas off of and to see from a different perspective. And as much as you hated Johnny, he had decent points. He had ways of making you put yourself into the shoes of people you never thought you were; although the guy was obnoxious, at least he actually was… good at his job.

Deciding you can’t take it anymore when Hyeri asks for the tenth time that hour about your beliefs rather than her own, you abruptly stand from your seat.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” you reply shortly. “I’ll be back.”

It was just a spontaneous thought. It’s after hours, and although there are some people who stay behind to get some work done, you had your doubts that Johnny would still be here. He seems to have a better grip on that work/life balance thing people talked about (unlike yourself), but it didn’t hurt to check his office, right?

It’s a good thing you went with it. Because right across from yours, there’s Johnny.

There’s one single lamp that shines over the tabletop of his desk, and the other sources of light in his office are from his computer screen and the ones from the city skyline from behind him. It has him seemingly angelic like this, so serene, calm, and collected, only focused on what’s laid out in front of him. The sun has gone down, people have gone home, but Johnny remains, hardworking as always, despite your previous observations that he’s a lazy, unprofessional guy who gets everything handed down to him.

With a knock on his glass door, he flinches, head raising up and eyes meeting yours.

Were his eyes always this sparkly?

Opening the door, Johnny drops the pen in his hand and crosses his arms before leaning back in his seat. “What’s up?”

“You’re here late,” you state the obvious, and Johnny only nods in return, without a rebuttal in sight. “You aren’t normally here late. At least, before the Hwang v. Yoon case.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But Seohyun dropped something on my desk this morning. Wanted to work on it. What brings you here?”

Inhaling in a deep breath of courage, your hands bundle up into a fist by your side. “Please come back.”

Johnny raises a brow. “What?”

“Come back,” you reiterate, this time, it’s less tense and releases with ease. Caving in isn’t usually this effortless to you, but something about Johnny makes you feel… comfortable enough.“Come back and work with me again. Yes, I’m not supportive of how you do things—”

“Then let’s go out on a date.”

You freeze. Legs rooted into the floors of Johnny’s office, you’re left immobile and diffident on how to react next. It wasn’t what you were expecting, although you weren’t quite sure what you were hoping to anticipate, but it most definitely was not this.

“I—”

“I said my terms,” he retorts, shutting the book in front of him before shuffling up from his seat. He’s leaving, you realize, and Johnny’s ready to head home for the night and you’re not sure if you could handle an entire weekend with Hyeri here. “And, I meant what I said. One date, and if it really doesn’t work out, I’ll stay on the case.”

Chewing on your bottom lip anxiously, the next words that come out are out of character for you. “And… what if it does?”

A soft smile tugs from each corner of his mouth. “Then we’ll figure it out from there. Promise.”

This is… awkward. It shouldn’t be, but yet somehow, it remains awkward.

You’ve spent weeks with Johnny before, and those moments were in a room, in the middle of the night, and alone. Hours and hours were dedicated to work, yes, but it was just the two of you and nobody else.

So why is it so weird being in a five Michelin star restaurant with him?

Maybe it’s the atmosphere. The dim lights, the white clothed tables in lieu of the scratched up wooden one back at the law firm, and instead of leather seats, there’s a neutral beige chaise cushion for the dining chair, slightly less comfortable because it doesn’t recline like the one in your office. Instead of an array of photos and evidence disseminated in front of you, there’s a laminated menu with a multitude of options of what to have for dinner.

Johnny gets the steak with mashed potatoes and string beans, and you order something similar but seared salmon for the main protein. The waitress offers wine, babbling on about the age of the red, where the vineyard is located, and the dryness to sweetness—to be honest, you could care less; you’d rather have gin and sprite with a squirt of lime. A couple glasses of that and you can almost guarantee that the night would end with a deep slumber.

Oddly enough, Johnny seems nervous. Ever since he pulled up in his midnight black Audi in front of your apartment complex, he’s been acting strange. He keeps wiping his sweaty palms off the material of his trousers, occasionally swiping off the droplets that fall on the side of his face.

“Are you… okay?” you suddenly ask, adjusting your dress in your seat. Deciding to go with a black silk dress with a slit up the leg and your hair let down, it’s not a look you often sport but since you’re going on a date (one you haven’t been on in quite some time), you figured it would be nice to at least play the part.

“I’m, uh, honestly, I’ve never really asked a girl out before.”

You quirk a brow curiously. “What? You’re telling me you never asked a girl out before?”

He lets out a bashful laugh with a faint nod, making an attempt to swallow his nerves after. “Honestly, I’ve always been asked out and not the other way around. Not to sound like that guy, but I never really had to put effort into trying for girls. They kind of just…”

“—Throw themselves at you?”

He beams. “Yeah! Like that. I don’t really know how to react half the time, but it makes the whole dating scene a little bit easier.” Geez, he called you dense, but he’s over here acting clueless.

Either way, it feels like whatever opinion you had about Johnny remained true. He never had to try when it came to the dating scene, and you could only imagine what that means for work and the relationships he has with the women in your career field.

“Mm, does that usually happen with work too?”

Befuddled, Johnny leans back in his chair. “What do you mean by that?”

With a shrug of your shoulders, you’re poking the meat of your salmon that falls off easily. After the first initial bite, the fish practically melts on impact when it touches the tip of your tongue, smooth like butter and bursting with flavor that couldn’t be described by any common person because it wouldn’t do the salmon justice. Johnny seemed to put a lot into this date, and you’re left pondering what the point of this was. Did he actually like you, or was he trying to get into your head? “Just seems like you get a lot of special treatment.”

“Are you jealous?”

“In what way?” you snap back.

“Are you jealous of me because I’m getting this so-called special treatment that you think I’ve always had, or were you jealous of the girls that seemingly got my attention?”

You’re left without anything to say.

It was a good observation he made because truthfully, you never saw it like that.

In actuality, you often saw Johnny as your rival. He climbed the ladder in the field with ease, and it wasn’t hard to quickly blame his success on the fact that he was a guy in a male dominated industry, but the fact that there’s a possible interpretation for your hatred may be from these feelings you might’ve been harboring for him this entire time… that can’t be it… right?

“I mean, look at where you are now,” you begin, trying to defend yourself. It can’t be true that the reason you’ve been bitter about Johnny was because of the girls that got his attention, and one of them not being you. “You got a high position from—”

“—From hard work,” Johnny interjects with his brows furrowed. “I didn’t get to where I was because I slept around, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I knew you sort of always hated me, but I’ve always admired you. I like your work ethic, I like your style, even though we’re both on opposite spectrums, I like the way you think and I wanted to know what it was like being partners with you. Getting to be on that case with you showed me more than just who you were as a lawyer, but who you were as a person. I like you, but I’m trying to put my finger on why you hate me so much.”

“So you noticed.” Sucking in your cheeks, your eyes trail elsewhere—from the fork that lays beside your plate, to the glass filled halfway with wine, to the little candle that sits in between the two of you that flickers the way he has your heart when he expresses once more how he feels about you.

“Yeah, of course I noticed. If you like someone, it’s kind to miss details like that about them. So… you really hated me because you thought I slept my way to the top, huh?”

“I mean…” shoulders dropping in exasperation, you run your fingers through your disheveled hair. “All those rumors—”

“Again, they’re just rumors. I worked hard to get here, you know. And I’m kind of offended that you thought of me that way.”

You scoff. “They’re rumors, Johnny, it’s kind of hard to ignore all the office gossip when that’s all you hear. Plus, it wasn’t hard to believe either, with the whole flirtatious act whenever you encounter anyone who’s breathing and has a vagina.”

“I wasn’t flirting.”

“You need a book for dummies that elaborates on what’s flirting or not, because Johnny Suh, whatever it is you do with your body language in front of that chick who sits by the front door.”

“You mean Siwoo? The pregnant one who’s married to her highschool sweetheart? Also, how do you not know our receptionist’s name?”

You throw your arms into the air. “How am I supposed to know her name?”

He tilts his head to the side, genuinely baffled. “Do you… not talk to anyone outside of Hyeri?”

Your silence answers his question.

“I… honestly, I don’t know if I should be offended or if I should be honored. You think I didn’t earn anything that I have now, you think that everything I have was handed to me. On one hand, it’s flattering that you think my looks and my bedroom skills could do that but at the same time… I’m offended because you think I’m incapable.”

“I never said you were incapable—”

“But you implied it.”

Hands falling onto your lap, it’s your turn to gulp. His words come shooting at you, but you’re without a shield to protect yourself, and with the new experience of working with Johnny, there comes the realization at times that Johnny is a hard worker. There are some things that he says and does that aren’t like the people you’ve encountered, and being put on new cases with Hyeri only proved it. He’s thoughtful in the sense that whenever you’d bring up your stance on something, he challenges you with what the defense might counter.

Johnny makes you want to be better. Not just against him, but to brush off the dust on your skills and enter into the battlefield of a courtroom to showcase them.

“Well, if you’re staying silent, I just want to say that I tried,” the crinkle in between your brows makes another appearance because Johnny is great at leaving you stunned and confused. “I really like you. I love how your head works, and I wanna be with someone like that but I also can’t be with someone who doesn’t respect me.”

Why is it that when you’re in that conference room with him, you’re not afraid and never running out of things to say, but now you’re empty handed?

“I’ll pay for dinner. Grab you an Uber. I honestly thought I could overlook those things, and maybe your perspective for me has changed, but I could see it on your face. It’s the same.”

After that date with Johnny, his life turns back to normal.

Yours? Not so much.

Candidly speaking, part of you missed working with Johnny. You were wrong about him, so wrong, and even when you wanted to apologize at the dinner for what you thought of him, the pride in you was like a vicious plague that blackened your insides, preventing you from ever saying those words.

Oftentimes, you’d still be able to sneak a glimpse of him in his office with that same look on his face—full of concentration and nothing else in his mind other than the task at hand.

The cases you have with Hyeri entail a head like Johnny’s. Someone who could question you, to protest against your stance when there could be flaws in it. It feels like deja vu each time you think about it, each time you open a new case file and Hyeri sits there, perched in that seat beside yours, eyes sparkling with what you have in mind next, instead of what she has going on in hers.

Although you’ve tried convincing yourself that maybe, just maybe, what you feel for Johnny is purely professional but when you see him standing by the water cooler with a couple of your coworkers, eyes mimicking the moon crescents in the skies, replicating the ways his lips curl in elation—it was beginning hard to believe that it was all platonic feelings.

So maybe you should be bold for once. Pull off that exterior that displays you as someone who isn’t just independent and assiduous, but someone who’s stubborn and aggressive in getting what they want—and not in a good way.

This time, you’ll show it in a good way.

Or at least, you’ll try.

Johnny is a routine kind-of-guy—he grabs an iced americano every morning at the coffee shop downstairs at the edge of the street, he does his daily 11:00AM drop-by at the water cooler to refill his Hydroflask (which was his prized possession, by the way), and parked in the same exact spot in the parking garage of your building, despite there being an abundance of places he could choose.

That’s why you decide to stand by his car after work that day. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands shaking because it’s your turn to feel anxious. That blazer that once fit so comfortably in the morning suddenly feels tight and hot in the afternoon, and the weather hasn’t even changed. Your bag slung over your shoulder weighs ten times heavier than an hour ago, and you can’t stop your jaw from tightening.

Before your thoughts could spiral off all the possibilities of what the outcome may be when you tell Johnny how you feel, he’s already standing there, feet away from you with that dip in the fronts of his brows that you want to smoothen out the crinkles of with the pad of your thumb.

“Hi,” you greet, faint and peculiarly different from your other approaches. “Um, I just… was waiting for you.”

“Hey,” Johnny says back, the first few buttons of his shirt already unraveled, his blazer hung over his forearm and the sleeves are rolled up. “I see that. What’s up with you?”

“Um,” your leg was jittery, hard to control so you spat everything you had to say out as fast as you could before he could see right through you. “I just wanted to apologize. For everything. You’re admirable, kind, and I wish I inhabited those same characteristics you have. I think professionally, you’ve got great ideas, one that could be implemented into mine and what we did together for that case was just… yeah. We could do something big if we put our heads together.”

Johnny nods in agreement. The relationship between you two work-wise was obvious, he knew that much. “And what about… outside of that?”

“I like you,” you choked, barely getting the words out. “More than just coworkers, um, I guess, more than friends but I’m not really sure since you walked out on our first date,” inhaling in a deep breath of courage, you continue on, “and I don’t know how you feel now after I’m standing before you like this, asking for another chance and that I’m sorry.”

He stares at you blankly, and it leaves you unsure whether or not he accepts your apology. “You know why we ended that date early.”

“Well,” you start again, “can we… start over and try again? I promise I won’t tempt you to end the date early this time.”

And with that, there’s the signature smile that Johnny sports that swoons girls, makes their knees weak, and heart clench but this time… it’s just for you.

“I’d really like that.”

#ficscafe #nct fanfic #johnny x reader #johnny fanfic #johnny suh #johnny nct #nct 127 #nct 127 fanfic #suh johnny #gyukultfics #idk what else to tag #hopefully this does well :|

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hxseok-honee · 3 years

Text

sundress || part 7

written portion under the cut!

sundress [part 7] || she needs him.

previous || masterlist || next

a/n : [tell me how good it feels to be needed] needy x ariana grande

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__________________________

Friday, 17 September, 9:50pm

The moment Yoongi and Y/n are stepping into Gryffindor common room, having come down the stairs from her room hand in hand, Jungkook is on his feet. His eyes are trained solely on Yoongi, and there’s a kind of burning anger there that has the rest of their friends tensing, especially when the Gryffindor heads right for them. Yoongi wonders with brief amusement if Jungkook’s going to hit him.

And he does try -- rather, he tries to grab at Yoongi’s shirt. But Y/n’s stepping in the way just as Jungkook’s reaching out for the Slytherin, and he has to raise his arms and stop short, his sneakers slipping on the rug beneath his feet as he struggles to avoid making contact with her instead. He looks like an idiot, and he knows it, but the thought of almost having put his hands on Y/n sobers Jungkook quickly.

They stand there in silence for a moment, their friends watching with bated breath as Jungkook looks at Y/n with wide eyes, shocked that she’s looking at him so coldly. He barely notices that Yoongi’s looking at her, too, his gaze examining her fondly. Because somehow, even though he knows her better than she knows herself, she always manages to surprise him.

“I think… maybe we should all sit down and talk like real people.” Jin speaks from one of the loveseats, Jimin perched next to him. Y/n doesn’t move when Jungkook doesn’t, refusing to step out of the way until her ex is backing down. And he eventually does, lowering his eyes and moving to one of the armchairs. He’s acutely aware of Y/n pulling Yoongi to the other loveseat, directly across from Jungkook.

“Okay… not totally sure what we’re supposed to talk about, since it’s not like anything’s going to change…” Namjoon speaks from where he half-sits on the ledge of an open window, a joint in his hand. Tae’s standing behind him, leaning on the wall, Namjoon’s back pressed into his chest. The Gryffindor sighs lightly, pinching at the bridge of his nose, and Y/n feels distinctly bad for him -- he’s the one that has to live with Jungkook, and she knows all too well how annoying he can get.

“Look, let’s just start with the facts so that I don’t have to listen to Jungkook theorizing and scheming all night.” Tae’s roommate turns to him, clearly offended, but the bookworm puts a hand up, silencing him before he can even say anything. He looks at the pair on the couch. “How did this happen?” He gestures vaguely to Yoongi and Y/n when he says this, not wanting to outright call them a couple, considering the ticking time bomb sitting in the armchair.

Y/n looks to Yoongi in slight alarm, careful to mask her expression because she knows Jungkook’s watching closely. But they hadn’t had a chance to discuss a backstory, and she doesn’t want them to say any conflicting information. It seems Yoongi has it handled, though, his face perfectly composed as he makes something up.

“Over the summer -- just a drunk night. We decided to forget it happened because it was better for our friendship, but… I guess I just couldn’t.” He looks to her when he says it, almost smirking when he sees the surprise in her eyes -- surprise that he’d made it sound like he was the one who’d caught feelings. She makes a mental note to talk to him about it later, but Jungkook’s already talking, unable to resist taking a jab at the boy.

“That’s bullshit. Y/n wouldn’t just sleep with you and let it go. She’s not a whore like you.” Yoongi finds it funny, if he’s honest, but he knows by the way that Y/n tenses next to him that she very much does not. So he pulls his hand from hers and slides it over her leg, squeezing at her thigh and letting it rest there, his thumb tracing circles of comfort into her skin. Jungkook’s eyes flick down to watch it happen, and when he raises his gaze again, there’s renewed irritation there. Yoongi almost feels bad that he finds the Gryffindor’s anger amusing. Almost.

“Well, I don’t know, Jeon. Maybe if you hadn’t fucked up and dumped her, she wouldn’t have spent the summer with me. Then that drunk night wouldn’t have happened. So… should I say thank you?” Y/n purses her lips and hides her face in Yoongi’s shoulder, somehow both exasperated and deeply amused by his words. Jimin whistles from the couch, not even bothering to mask how entertained he is by what’s happening here. Y/n lifts her head, figuring she should try to ease the tension somehow.

“Look, Jungkook. There’s nothing you can do about this, okay? Yoongi and I are together now, so I would just… appreciate it if you’d let this go so we can rebuild our friendship.” The group nods, finding her words reasonable. It’s the truth -- what’s done is done, so they might as well all move on and find a way to return to normalcy.

“I don’t believe you.” Namjoon throws his head back and groans loudly when Jungkook refuses to cooperate, Jin dropping his head to his hands because they’re really never going to get anywhere like this. Jungkook doesn’t even notice. “You want me to let it go, huh? Almost like you’re just pretending to date so that I will.”

“I feel like that says more about the fact that you won’t leave her alone than anything it says about Yoongi and Y/n.” It comes from Tae, who is clearly getting very frustrated. He’s a man of knowledge, fact. He puts weight in words and sees the world for what it is. So he’s very annoyed at Jungkook’s delusions -- at the fact that he won’t just accept the situation. That, even in a world where he might be right, he’s not seeing that Yoongi and Y/n would only pretend because he’s being relentless and they’ve had to turn to a drastic last resort.

“Prove it. Prove you’re dating. You two hold hands and shit all the time, this doesn’t prove a thing.” Jungkook all but ignores Tae, hyper-focusing on Yoongi and Y/n across from him. Yoongi turns to Y/n with a knowing look, one that says ‘What’d I tell you? Cringey TV shit’. It makes her smile widely, even as she’s reaching to place her hand on the side of Yoongi’s neck, pulling him in. He slides his hand from her thigh to her waist when his lips fall to hers, the action already easier than it’d been less than hour ago.

They can hear the various noises of reaction from their friends -- Jin hums in contemplation as Jimin quite literally starts to laugh, and Namjoon is choking on the hit he’d just taken, Tae whispering ‘oh, okay then’ behind him.

Yoongi presses one last kiss to Y/n’s mouth before pulling away with an obnoxious smack of his lips, winking discreetly at her and smiling when she rolls her eyes. They turn to the group, Yoongi taking her hand in his and pulling it into his lap as he threads his fingers through hers. Their friends seem relatively unaffected, if only amused or intrigued by them, but Jungkook.

Jungkook’s looking at them with hardened rage, because there’s really no way he can explain that one without ending up at a romantic relationship between them. That fact clearly bothers him enough that he’s leaning forward, elbows on his knees as he looks at them, and Y/n can see the childish malice flashing in his eyes. And she knows he’s about to say something bad.

“Tell me, Yoongi -- are you enjoying my sloppy seconds?” The entire room is standing immediately -- Yoongi because he’s perfectly certain he’s about to put Jungkook in the Hospital Wing, and everyone else because they have to make sure Yoongi doesn’t do exactly that.

Y/n had seen it coming -- had seen the way Jungkook had shut down just before saying it, because she knows what that looks like -- so she’s able to react the fastest out of everyone. Latching onto the back of Yoongi’s shirt before he’s able to get too close to Jungkook, she yanks him back to her, slipping her arms around her waist and holding tight. Jin and Namjoon have moved to Jungkook’s side, hands on his chest to stop him from moving -- because at the end of the day, Jungkook’s the athlete here. He could easily knock someone back if he wants to, so they know they need more than one person to stop him from acting rash.

Y/n slides her hand over Yoongi’s mouth, knowing he completely lacks a filter and not wanting him to make things worse because he’s angry. She pulls him backwards toward the stairs to her room, turning when she gets there and urging him up the steps before waving at the rest of the room.

“Well, this has been great -- goodnight!” And then she’s taking the steps two at a time to catch up to Yoongi, who’s stomping angrily up to her door. He makes his way inside, pacing the room as Y/n shuts her door behind her, and then he’s turning to her, his eyes alight.

“After that, you still won’t let me kick his ass?!” She knows that, if all their friends are still downstairs, then they can definitely hear him yelling. The whole house can probably hear him yelling. She rushes forward, taking his face in her hands and shushing him, because she really needs him to calm down.

“Yoongi, it’s fine. I don’t care, it doesn’t bother me--”

“It should!” He’s ripping his face from her hold, going back to pacing as he pulls at his hair in frustration. She sighs, moving to him again and wrapping a hand around his wrist. He tries to pull that free, too, but she holds tight, so he turns to her with annoyance. “How can you just be okay with what he said?!”

“I’m not. I’m not okay with what he said.” He stops, breathing deeply to calm down when he sees how serious she is. Turning so he’s facing her properly, he waits for her to continue. “I’m not okay with it, Yoongi, but right now I’m more concerned about you.”

“Why? I’m not the one he was insulting--”

“It’s not about him, Yoongi. I will deal with what he said later. Let’s just… go to bed? Hm?” It hurts, what Jungkook had said to her. That he’d called her a cheater over text and then blatantly insulted her to her face. That he’d let his pride get so in the way of his head that he couldn’t see how terrible he was being.

But it’s Yoongi that worries her. Because he’s fiercely protective, whether he’s aware of it or not. Because she knows how quickly his mouth can get him in trouble when he’s seeing red. Because her problems with Jungkook are hers, and she doesn’t want Yoongi burning a bridge with Jungkook over this, no matter how hard her ex is trying to start the fire himself.

So she’s pulling him to her bed, shuffling toward him once they’re both under the comforter. Taking his face in her hands again -- and smiling when he doesn’t pull away this time -- she’s squishing his cheeks, glad to see the way he rolls his eyes. It means he’s calming down, however reluctantly.

“You okay?” He sighs when she asks, sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her close. Her fingers move to his ears, where she plays with his piercings, an unconscious habit. Pushing his nose against hers, he doesn’t respond, only searching her eyes.

“Are you?” A small smile, a nod. But he doesn’t find the reassurance he’s looking for in her eyes, so he knows she’s lying. But he lets it go for now, scooting around until he can tuck her into his chest, his chin coming to rest on her head as they drift off to sleep, trying to put this day behind them.

Saturday, 18 September, 3:48am

It’s the shaking that wakes Yoongi up. Not the gasped sob that precedes it, muffled into a hand desperate to keep her quiet. Not the sniffling that follows, tearful and devastated. It’s the shaking — the pure force of the cry that tears its way through her body, jostling the mattress and pulling Yoongi out of his slumber.

Y/n keeps her curtains drawn at night, blocking any moonlight that would have filtered in through her window, so he can’t see her in the dark — not until he’s blinked enough times that silhouettes start to take shape around him. When he notices the shadow sitting at the edge of the bed, he’s sliding his hand across the sheet next to him, almost as if to check that she’s not there, sleeping peacefully beside him. She’s not.

Scooting his way along the mattress until he’s close enough to touch her, he’s sitting up, the comforter falling off of him as he goes.

“Hey…” Yoongi puts his hand on her back to draw her attention, his palm flat against the curve of her spine as he leans over to try to see her face. Y/n jumps, clearly not having noticed that he was awake.

“Shit— did I wake you?” She gives one last sniffle, and he can see her wiping frantically at her face. He doesn’t respond, only moving closer until he can press his chest to her left shoulder, trying to make as much physical contact as possible so she knows she can lean on him.

“Talk to me… please?” He doesn’t need to see when she shakes her head. He can feel it, the way her whole body moves to say no — to shut him out. It leaves a dreadfully bad taste in his mouth, guilt crawling up the back of his neck.

“I’m just gonna... I need to shower.” Yoongi furrows a brow at her sudden remark, pressing his chest closer to her, his face coming to rest on her shoulder.

“Now? It’s the middle of the night…” Y/n moves to stand, Yoongi’s fingers clinging to the back of her shirt until she’s too far away for him to keep holding on. She heads to the bathroom, the sudden flick of the light blinding him for a few seconds. He blinks it away, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and perching there, just as she had. He hears the shower turn on, and his heart aches at the thought that Y/n’s only doing this so she can cry beneath the sound of running water again. The guilt that had been dancing along the edges of his skin flows into his chest now, settling there like a ton of bricks.

He’s so busy staring down at the floor, trying to figure out how to make this better, that he doesn’t notice Y/n’s slowly making her way back to him until she’s standing over him.

“Yoongi?” The Slytherin blinks, lifting his head in surprise at the call of his name. Y/n stares down at him, taking in the way the pale yellow light from the bathroom washes over his features — it shows her the darkness in his eyes, the turmoil sitting there. She reaches out to him, wiggling her fingers slowly until he’s taking her hand in his, waiting for her to tell him what’s on her mind.

“Come with me?” Eyes widening, he stares up at her silently, unsure why she’s asking him this. But he finds himself nodding, knowing that, whatever it is, she needs him. She needs him there with her, so he’s rising from the bed and following her to the bathroom, because — right now, in this moment — he needs her to need him. He’s too scared to think of the alternative — that he’s caused this pain in her eyes, that it’s his fault.

Compared to the bedroom, it’s uncomfortably bright here in the bathroom, so much so that they just stand in the middle of the room for a few seconds, unsure how to proceed. Finally, as if coming to his senses, Yoongi’s looking toward the door, finding the light switch easily. With an apprehensive glance in Y/n’s direction, he moves toward it, setting his fingers on the switch and flicking it down.

They’re bathed in darkness immediately, but there’s a small window on the far wall, one that lets in just enough moonlight that they won’t hurt themselves trying to navigate the room.

Yoongi steps slowly back to where he’d been before, hovering in front of Y/n and waiting for her to tell him what to do. After a moment of nothing, she’s reaching out to him, taking his fingers in her own and guiding his hands to the hem of her t-shirt. She leaves them there, looking to him to continue.

With a nervous breath, Yoongi grasps at the material, lifting the shirt up and off her body as gingerly as he can, his eyes on the wall behind her head. He only glances at her once he can see her crossing her arms in front of her chest, covering herself.

He steps in just enough that he can set his hands on her hips and push at the waistband of her pajama pants, turning away and giving her privacy once she’s able to kick them the rest of the way off, working slowly at his own clothes while he waits.

When his shorts and shirt are pooled on the floor beneath his feet, he’s glancing over his shoulder at her. He can see out of the corner of his eye that there’s no break in the expanse of her skin where her panties should be — she’d removed them while his back was turned. For some reason — and although they’ve been in this situation before — the idea of that makes his face uncomfortably warm.

They make eye contact as he hooks his thumbs into the elastic of his boxers experimentally, but when he sees how her eyes widen just slightly in panic at the idea of him being fully naked — never mind the fact that she’s fully naked — Yoongi pulls his thumbs free, deciding it’s best that he leaves them on.

He waits until she’s stepped past the shower curtain to follow, giving her time to curl into herself again because this is objectively the weirdest thing they’ve ever done, and he’s not sure either of them is ready for him to pretend he’s completely comfortable seeing her naked. She pokes her head out after a moment, hair and face wet, and he knows he can join her.

He’s not exactly sure what he’s supposed to be doing here — if he should be standing on the far end of the shower like he had been the only other time they’d done this, or if he’s supposed to be showering, too. After all, it hadn’t been his idea this time.

He’s just about decided to keep his distance from her when he sees her silhouette moving toward him. It’s a lot darker behind the shower curtain, which he’s partially glad for because he really can’t see any part of Y/n that he’s not supposed to, but the other part of him is stressed because he isn’t really in the mood to slip and die tonight.

Y/n’s wet hands find his forearms, pulling him slowly toward her and into the stream of hot water. They’re close enough now that they can see each other’s faces, but she’s dropping her forehead to his shoulder soon enough, arms slipping around his waist loosely.

“Can you help me?” As if running on autopilot, Yoongi’s moving, hands fumbling for the bottle of shampoo on the shelf to their left. Squirting some on top of her head — admittedly difficult since she’s got her face buried in the crook of his neck — he scrubs gently at her hair. Knowing she likes having her head scratched when she’s having a bad day, he rubs the pads of his fingertips against her scalp, feeling both accomplished and like he’s just made a terrible mistake when she shivers and unintentionally pulls him closer, almost no space left between them.

Lowering an arm to the small of her back so she doesn’t fall, Yoongi walks her backwards until she’s fully under the water, where he rinses her hair for her. He’s about to reach for the conditioner when Y/n lifts her head, grabbing the shampoo herself. Pouring some into her palm and setting the bottle down, she meets his eyes before letting her eyes drift up to his hair, now wet from standing under the water with her.

Wordlessly, Yoongi lowers his face to her shoulder just as she had, giving her permission to wash his hair for him and sighing when she drags her nails through his hair. With his eyes shut and the soothing feeling of Y/n breathing against him, he’s left with his thoughts. It’s not long before the guilt is rearing its ugly head again.

“I’m sorry…” Things had been quiet between them, Y/n working at rinsing the soap from his roots, when he’d whispered it. She hears him perfectly, and, although he doesn’t lift his eyes to look at her, she knows he’s waiting to see if she’ll respond. When she doesn’t — only slowing her movements in his hair — he continues. “If I hadn’t started all of this — if I had just talked to you before telling him we were together — then he wouldn’t have…” He doesn’t finish, but he doesn’t have to.

Then he wouldn’t have said those things about you. Then you wouldn’t be hurting right now.

“If you’re mad at me—“

“I’m not mad at you, Yoongi.” Yoongi lifts his head now, searching her eyes for any sign of a lie. There isn’t one — he only finds hints of amusement, a smile dancing on the edges of her lips. “I’m not mad at you. I know why you did it — I get why you did it. I’m okay with it — with this.”

Yoongi’s not sure he’s ever felt as much relief as he does now, his body almost deflating from the pent up stress leaving him. Y/n grins when she sees how his entire being untenses, his shoulders dropping as he sighs. Reaching up, she pushes his hair out of his face, almost laughing when she sees how his eyes twinkle with renewed energy. She hums, pretending to think about what she’s going to say next, because there is one thing she’s decided in the last few minutes — in the span of time it’d taken her to see how the guilt of potentially being responsible for her pain had torn at Yoongi. At the only boy in the world who would do anything in his power to never hurt her.

“There is one person I’m mad at, though.” Yoongi raises an eyebrow, knowing what she’s going to say but still waiting for the name to leave her lips. “Jeon Jungkook.”

Yoongi feels himself swell with something akin to pride when he sees how the sadness that had been in her eyes turns to anger, almost mischievous in the glint of the moonlight. She continues, eyeing him with an evil grin.

“I think that, no matter how dumb and ill-prepared your plan had been… you really might have done something there, Yoongi.” The Slytherin beams, loving the way revenge looks on her as she stands there in his arms at damn near 4 o’clock in the morning.

“Yeah? You got something in mind?” Y/n hums conspiratorially, a bubble of laughter escaping her as she loops her arms around his shoulders and pulls him closer, because they’re really standing in her shower scheming about how to get back at her horrible ex, like this is normal for them.

“I mean, I just think we could really make this work… We’d just have to work out the logistics of the ‘relationship’, but nothing between us will really change since we’re already so close.” She gestures vaguely down at their current state for emphasis, and Yoongi throws his head back to laugh at how incredibly strange this entire situation is. He nods when he’s done, running his hands up and down her back, hot water flowing over his arms as he wraps them tighter around her waist.

“Well, I know that being naked with someone might not be the most obvious act of affection to you, but to me, there’s nothing better.” Y/n rolls her eyes at his playful smirk when he says it, because at the end of the day, Min Yoongi’s still an idiot.

”So… since we’re clearly in quite the romantic situation here, I think this is the perfect place to ask.” Yoongi smiles when he says it, shockingly sweet given the teasing lilt of his voice. “Y/n, would you do me the honor of pretending to be my girlfriend so that we can tear your dumbass ex-boyfriend apart from the inside out with how perfect we are together?” Y/n snorts, nodding once.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” With a toothy smile, Yoongi lifts his right hand to her hair, playing with the ends of it as he hums contemplatively.

“Should we make it official?” Y/n eyes at him suspiciously.

“Listen buddy, I might be naked right now, but I’m not having sex with you.” With an annoyed huff and a mumbled 'you're an idiot', Yoongi rolls his eyes, grabbing a fistful of her hair and tugging until it’s pulled taut, giving him full control of her head. Leaning in, he angles her so he can slot his lips against hers comfortably, almost smiling when she reciprocates right away.

Yeah. This is definitely getting easier.

Y/n’s arms tighten around Yoongi’s neck as her hand lifts to card her fingers through the hair on the back of his head. She barely notices that the arm he has around her waist is pulling her in, only registering it when she feels her chest press flush to his. She doesn’t even have time to feel embarrassed, though, because Yoongi’s tilting his head, the pressure of his lips on hers suddenly changing.

She isn’t ready for the wet swipe against the seam of her lips, and she hates that she gasps because she knows it’s given him a chance to push his tongue into her mouth -- he’s brushing against her tongue roughly, almost challenging her to fight back. Feeling him smirk against her lips at the victory when she doesn’t, she tries to resist him now, nipping sharply at his bottom lip and snickering into his mouth when he groans.

The laugh in her throat is drowned out by a whimper when Yoongi tightens his hold on her hair until it’s bordering on painful. She doesn’t mind the sting, and she’s wondering if he can tell. That thought goes quickly out the window, because he’s already testing it again, tugging harshly and taking note of the way her breath catches. It had been a game before, push and pull -- but now she just can't think straight.

The fog in her mind masking every form of smart decision-making that she knows, Y/n’s sliding her arms off of his shoulders. Scratching her nails lightly down the expanse of Yoongi’s chest and torso, she smirks when his muscles are jumping under her touch, his breath shaky as he rubs his tongue against hers. And then her two pointer fingers are hooking into the waistband of his wet boxers, and Yoongi’s whining low into her mouth.

He can feel her pulling the elastic away from his skin, and he’s shuffling toward her to close the distance, mostly because he’s afraid she’s going to purposely let go and snap the band painfully back to him -- but also because there’s only one thing Yoongi’s sure of right now, and it’s that his boxers have to stay on. But her fingers are still hooked into the band -- because apparently she’s decided that that’s a good place to rest her hands -- and she keeps accidentally tugging the material down, so if he doesn’t keep up with her, they’re both gonna be in trouble.

Dropping his hands to Y/n’s waist, Yoongi turns her slowly toward the shower wall, his thumbs rubbing heated circles into her skin as he nudges her backward. His brain feels like mush, especially when he accidentally pushes his hips against hers, because she’s sighing into his mouth, and he finds himself wanting to do it again -- so he does. The white noise in his head only gets louder, because she’s whimpering when he stumbles forward, pinning her roughly to the wall as his hips rock into hers. But then she’s gasping suddenly and his heart is dropping, because it doesn’t sound the same as the others.

Yoongi pulls back right away, searching her face in the dark to see if she’s hurt -- if he’s made her uncomfortable. But she only seems shocked, her eyes wide and confused.

Shocked is exactly what she is. Because when Yoongi had guided her backwards into the wall, the cold tile against her skin had made her jump. And just like that, the haze had cleared, the reality of what they were doing -- what they might have kept doing if not for the shock to her system -- setting in. She looks him over, taking in his confusion and only offering a single sentence.

“You’re Yoongi.” Eyebrows disappearing into his hair, the boy’s nodding slowly, like he’s worried about her current mental state. She offers one more line, and this one does the trick.

“I’m Y/n.” Almost like a switch had been turned off, wiping Yoongi’s brain free of his own fog, he’s grimacing immediately, a noise of discomfort leaving him. Because she hadn’t filled in the gaps, but he had.

He’s him, and she’s her. And they… they don’t do things like this. They don’t lose themselves in each other like this. Because there’s nothing there between them, so much so that even the thought of continuing what they’d been doing is bringing a frown to both of their faces. Yoongi swallows hard, smacking his lips in slight disgust.

“Way to kill a boner, loser.” He hisses when she lands a well-aimed smack to his bicep, fully aware that he deserved that. Planting her hand on his chest, Y/n’s pushing him away -- slowly, because the last thing they need is him slipping and trying to explain to Pomfrey how they’d gotten here when he ends up in the Hospital Wing. Once there’s distance between them, Y/n’s crossing her arms over her chest, like that really will do much considering the last five minutes of their lives. She does it anyway, grateful that he has the decency to look away instead of making a snide remark about the futility of hiding from him now. She clears her throat, drawing his attention from where he leans against the wall.

“So -- making out in the shower at 4am was a bad idea.” Yoongi laughs loudly, and the tension between them is immediately dissipating with his nod.

“100%. Cross it off the bucket list, but let’s never do that again.”

Saturday, 18 September, 10:05am

“…ke up… Y/n… come on, wake up… Y/n!” Jumping from the sudden yell of her name, Y/n’s eyes fly open, startled. She turns her head toward the voice that had called her, finding that Yoongi’s hovering right over her. He’s got his lips pressed to the shell of her ear, clearly having decided that yelling right into her eardrum would wake her, because of course it would.

“What?” He pulls away when she snaps at him, looking down at her with a sleepy grin. He’s got an arm around her waist, his body having been curled tightly around hers the whole night. After they’d finished their shower, she’d sat on her bed in her towel for a few minutes, too lazy to get dressed, and Yoongi had thrown one of his baggy t-shirts and a pair of her panties at her face in irritation because he’d really wanted to go to sleep. It’s all she’s wearing, something that had made cuddling much easier since she gets cold at night -- he’s not happy about having his body heat stolen, but it’s only a minor inconvenience if he’s honest.

He sets his chin on her shoulder now, breathing in the scent of her shampoo mixed with the smell of him, all over his t-shirt. He wonders briefly if she’s going to start smelling like this new hybrid scent from now on -- if she’d be wearing his clothes more often now. It doesn’t elicit any particular reaction out of him, only a curious hum leaving him. He makes eye contact with her again, seeing that she’s giving him an irritated look, probably because he’d woken her. With an innocent smile, he says--

“‘m hungry.” She shoots him a look, rolling back over onto her side and shutting him out.

“Then go eat.” He pulls at her shoulder right away, forcing her to lean against him again and give him her attention.

“Go with me -- I don’t wanna sit alone in the Great Hall, and we’re supposed to do shit together now! Couple-y shit!” Y/n groans angrily, because now all the sleepiness she’d felt is fading away, leaving her awake and annoyed.

“Dude, it’s a Saturday at 10am, and we just went to bed like 5 hours ago! Go without me!” She’s about to turn away again, but Yoongi’s scooting impossibly closer, pressing his face into her neck and whining loudly -- it’s really obnoxious, and he knows that. It works, though, because she’s sighing loudly, about to give in. But--

“Min Yoongi.” His whining stops, replaced by a confused hum because her voice has an edge to it that makes him feel like he’s in trouble.

“Get your fucking morning wood away from my ass. Before I push you out the window.” Yoongi stills, pursing his lips and shutting his eyes in embarrassment, because he hadn’t even noticed that he’d been pushing the front of his shorts against her backside while he was complaining. Hiding his face in her neck, he’s about to apologize and move away, maybe even resign himself to going to breakfast alone after all -- but then a snort of amusement is leaving him, and he’s staying right where he is.

“Maybe if you get out of bed, you won’t have to feel it anymore. Unless… you want to?” It’s definitely the wrong thing to say, and he knows it, already rolling away from Y/n in a panic because she’s turning to him, her hands curling into fists as she locates her target.

For no less than five minutes, Y/n chases Yoongi around her room, flinging clothes, shoes, heavy objects -- anything she can get her hands on. Finally, she latches onto the front of his shirt, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling angrily on his hair. He yelps, snaking one arm around her and using his other hand to break his fall against her bedroom door, because they’re both about to topple over.

His back slams heavily into the wood, and Y/n can’t tell if he’s crying or laughing, but either way, he’s yelling -- and it’s very unlikely that anyone in the vicinity of her room can’t hear him.

“I had you naked up against a wall last night, and you’re mad about my morning wood?!” Y/n pulls on his hair extra hard, enraged, and he yelps again, losing his footing -- they crash to the ground in a pile of limbs, both groaning loudly. It becomes laughter almost immediately, exhausted and full of disbelief that they’d just spent all that time trashing her room. After a moment of heavy breathing and pained complaints, Yoongi turns to her, an obnoxious grin on his face.

“‘m still hungry.”

“Oh my God, would you hurry up? If we miss last call for breakfast and have to eat in the kitchens, I’m gonna be so pissed--”

“I told you to go alone--”

“And I told you that I wanted you to go with me--”

“We coulda been there already if you hadn’t been all up on me and pissed me off--”

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it, babe--”

“Min Yoongi--”

“Ow! Okay, I’m sorry!”

After cleaning up the mess in Y/n’s room, she and Yoongi had gotten ready together, because there would have been no way for her to go back to sleep after that. He had rummaged through the part of her wardrobe designated for his belongings -- it had become convenient for them to keep clothes in each others’ rooms after a couple years, clearly serving its purpose now that Yoongi’d needed a clean outfit.

Still, even with fresh clothes on, it’s obvious that Yoongi had stayed the night -- rather, it’s obvious to Taehyung and Namjoon, who are sitting in the Gryffindor common room doing work when Yoongi and Y/n stumble down the stairs, on the edge of laughter even though they’re bickering. And it’s especially obvious to Jungkook, who’s reaching the bottom of the stairs to the boys’ dorm at the same time -- because he’s stopped at a close enough distance to Yoongi that he can smell the scent of Y/n’s body wash all over him. A smell he’s very personally familiar with.

Y/n chokes on her spit, realizing with a reddening face not only that her friends had heard the conversation she and Yoongi had just been having, but that they had definitely also heard what had happened upstairs -- what Yoongi had said about having her naked up against a wall. Y/n wants to hide in a corner and never make eye contact with them ever again, but they don’t mention it, Taehyung only waving with an amused smile as Namjoon hides his laughter behind a hand. She points at the door to the common room awkwardly.

“We’re… going to breakfast… if anyone wants to come.” The pair of boyfriends shake their heads simultaneously, and Y/n turns her head to where she knows Jungkook is when she sees Namjoon glancing in slight concern over to the boys standing beside her. When she looks, she sees why he might be worried.

Yoongi and Jungkook have yet to say a word or even acknowledge that Y/n had spoken, too busy staring each other down. It’s obvious that Jungkook’s angry, but Yoongi would never back down from a challenge. Y/n reaches out, sliding her hand down Yoongi’s forearm and threading her fingers through his.

“Come on… we’re gonna miss last call…” Jungkook doesn’t tear his eyes away from Yoongi’s when she grabs the Slytherin’s hand, but he’s definitely seen it out of the corner of his eye, his gaze hardening. It brings a smirk to Yoongi’s lips, knowing Y/n’s affection had gotten under his skin. Looking Jungkook up and down with that infuriating curl of his lips, Yoongi only cocks an eyebrow at the Gryffindor before turning to Y/n, pulling her toward the door as he responds, his voice carrying through the silent common room with distinct clarity.

“I don’t mind if we eat in the kitchens, babygirl -- I like being alone with you.” Y/n rolls her eyes internally at how obnoxious Yoongi is, but she can hear Jungkook letting out a restrained sigh behind them, and she can’t help the smug satisfaction that fills her. And when Yoongi glances at her as they step out into the corridor, his eyes dancing with amusement, she knows he feels the same.

Well, this should be fun.

#bts au #bts smau #bts social media au #bts hogwarts au #min yoongi #yoongi x reader

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justreadingfics · 4 years

Text

It’s a Deal (Ch. 15-Final)

Chapter Summary: THE END.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 6.2k

Warnings: I don’t wanna spoil anything, but if you’ve read the story so far and handled well with everything, there’s nothing to be worried about. If there’s anything you definetely can read and want to check if you’re safe, feel free to ask me about it beforehand.

A/N 1: Thank you Suz, @bucky-the-thigh-slayer for having my back for these last chapters. Love you. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated. More notes at the end of the chapter.

It’s a funny feeling to have to knock on the door which you’ve spent so long mindlessly walking right through after opening it with your own key. Yeah, it’s funny… but also a surprisingly liberating and exciting sensation. It’s just like a feeling of meeting someone new living inside you. Or someone you just didn’t know was already there, waiting for you to acknowledge them. But a great deal of what you were and had just feels foreign to you now. Like that door to your place, except this isn’t your place anymore, so you knock on the wood softly and wait to be allowed to come in.

You don’t have to wait long as you’ve barely knocked and the door is opened, with Eddie appearing in front of you.

“Hi, you’re back,” he lets out a breathy smile, a tad of nervousness on his voice.

“Hi…” you tighten your lips, not knowing how to react to the excited “you’re back” that has just blurted out of his lips. You want things with Eddie to go as smoothly as possible and you definitely don’t want another argument. Not now when you’re so eager to just do what you have to do there and then go find Bucky, “Ahm…I’ve just come back from the mission and checked in to a hotel, I need to grab some of my stuff. If you don’t mind.”

“Oh…” disappointment hardens his face as his chin lifts up, “Alright. Come in,” he nods, stepping aside.

With tentative moves, you enter your former home before Eddie shuts the door behind him, “Ahm…Can you believe I forgot my phone?” You chuckle lightly, nodding at the device on the center table in the living room, “I had to use the company’s one the entire time.” You comment, reaching over for your phone and attaching it to the Stark mobile battery charger.

As Eddie leans back against the door, you ignore the intensive and unsettling stare he holds on you while your phone’s screen lights up. You rush to check your missed calls and your heart skips a beat when you find out several of them from Bucky. Did you really have to be so stupid about forgetting your phone there?

Your eyes lift from your phone to Eddie for a moment while a thought crosses your mind… Did he see those calls? Could he have answered one of them? No… Eddie and you might not be on the best of terms right now, but you know his character, he wouldn’t…

“Your boy toy wouldn’t stop calling,” he says, his voice as bitter as his words, “Until he decided to drop by.”

“What?” You barely whisper as your heart rushes in your chest. “Bucky?”

Eddie scoffs, uncrossing his arms and leaning away from the door, “Yeah… Bucky…Bucky Soft Tongue Barnes,” he says the name you have in your contacts for Bucky in a mocking tone, “Do you have another boy toy by any chance? Dear God, Y/N…”

You register the vicious mockery coming from him, but you don’t even care while your eyes roam around the room, spotting all of the boxes with Eddie’s stuff next to your stuff, “What did he want?” You ask, your breathing becoming erratic at the possible outcomes from that encounter.

“The fuck I know.” He shrugs, walking over you, “He didn’t stay long.”

“What did you tell him, Eddie?” Your head tilts while you ask in an almost defeated tone, fingers gripping your phone hard.

His face hardens even more now that he’s right in front of you, “I told him the truth, that this is our home.” He gestures around before lunging at you and grabbing your arm, pulling you close to him, “And that what you and I have isn’t just a shitty deal with a boy toy that can be destroyed by a small and unimportant glitch.” He spits.

Your vision turns into a blur while a thick lump of pure anger lodges in your throat. You harshly pull your arm and, expressing a strength you didn’t even know you had, you push him, making him trip backwards, “Fuck you, Eddie.” You push him again, this time even stronger, making his ass fall to the ground, staring up at you with big and incredulous eyes that makes you anger even bigger, “Fuck you, I thought we could’ve salvage something of our relationship, become respectful with each other at least, for our history’s sake,” you scoff pointing down at him, ”But I see now there’s just no fucking point.” You shake your head while your teeth clench.

As you move to step past him, he swiftly stands up and grabs your elbow again. “Y/n, please… don’t go. We can talk-”

“Fuck off, Eddie.” You shake your arm away, untangling it from his hold once and for all, “I have no time to waste talking to you.” You hurriedly move towards the way out, but before you leave the place, you turn back to him, “And just so you know, he’s not my boy toy, or a shitty deal, he’s the fucking love of my life.” You state, slamming the door on your way out.

~~~

“Goddammit, Bucky, is it too much to ask for you to wait for us, you’re being too careless,” Steve chastises through the comms.

“I told you… we should’ve brought Sam.” Nat’s voice comes to his ears.

“Fuck off, Romanoff. And you, too, Punk. You’re the last person who can say anything about being careless on missions.” Bucky hisses, being way ahead of his partners in exploring the alleged facility they are supposed to turn down from some assholes, A.I.M is what they called themselves. The third facility from that mission. Gun machine pointed ahead, he kicked open another door, finding nothing in the room again, “Besides, this place is dead, that was probably a false lead.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Nat, the receiver of the lead, scoffs, “And you would know that if you had stayed for briefing before jumping out of the quinjet in your bike, like fucking Mad Max.”

“Bucky!”

The loud voice on his ears, not Nat’s voice and definitely not Steve’s, makes him halt at once before he can kick open the next door.

“Y/N?” He frowns, not trusting his ears.

“Oh, shit.” Now, that’s definitely Steve and Nat talking in unison.

“Bucky, thank God. Finally. I need to talk to you.”

Bucky notices the relief but also the urgency in your voice. It doesn’t help him at all to figure out what the hell it’s happening, but he registers his heart racing by listening to your voice.

“Y/N?” He repeats himself, “What the hell? Where are you? Are you ok?” The thought that maybe some way you ended up as a hostage in that mission brings a lump to his stomach and his heart beats even faster.

“Yes, I’m mean, no… not really,” you speak quickly, “I’m safe, but I need to talk to you. I’m heading to the safe house designated for this mission right now. I’m gonna wait for you there.”

“What?” Bucky’s mind races trying to understand what the hell it’s happening. “I can’t… I-I have nothing to talk to you about.” He steadies his voice when he feels it faltering.

He hears a scoff that he knows it’s Nat’s, but he says nothing, ignoring the nosey fuckers.

“Bucky… please,” you plead, the desperation present in your tone, “You have no idea how many codes I had to break find you and to get here.”

Fuck…

“You’re having a hard on right now, aren’t you?” Nat asks, breaking through the silence with amusement on her voice.

“He always had a weakness for the smart ones.” Steve comments. Whispering. Like that would help the jerk to remain unnoticed.

“You two stay fucking quiet over there,” Bucky chastises – even though neither of them were lying - while he listens to you clearing your throat, “What do you need to talk about?” He addresses you again, a bit too harshly, already regretting that reaction, but allowing the little bit of spite inside his heart to lead him on, “Is your fiancé there with you?” He clenches his teeth, “Y/N listen, I don’t want explanations, or pity-“

“Fiancé?” You practically screech into his ears, “Pity? Hell, no. It’s not what you’re thinking. Not at all. Eddie lied to you. That’s why I’m here, we need… we need to talk. There’s so much I need to say to you.”

“Like what?” Bucky whispers, heart jumping inside his chest. The fucker lied to him? Does that mean…

“Like I love you.” You burst out, punching the air out of his lungs, “Like I fucking fell in love with you and now you’re thinking I don’t, and I can’t wait another second to tell you everything I’m feeling.”

“What?” He checks, once again in barely a whisper, once again not trusting his ears.

“I love you, ok? I love you, Bucky.” You repeat, trying to speak with a calmer tone, but uneasiness still sweeps into your words.

Silence settles on his comms. No more words from you or from the snooping couple he knows is still there, listening to everything, as well. All he can listen to is his heart, frantically pounding against his chest.

“Meet you at the safe house?” You tentatively ask after a long moment of stillness.

That’s the precise moment the door in front of Bucky opens and he meets with a room full of armed assholes.

“I’ll be there in 15.” He states firmly, pointing his gun ahead.

In precisely seven minutes he has almost the entire room on the floor. He’s about to break the last man standing’s arm when Nat and Steve come running into the room.

“Fucking hell,” Nat exclaims, taking in the place.

“We’ll take it from here, now you go to that goddamn safe house,” Steve says with a teary beam – the big softie - and points to the way out.

Like hell Bucky would waste another second.

~~~

He’s been inside the place for several minutes already, which seems like an eternity, legs quivering while he sits on the first dusted armchair he’s seen, he’s biting on his nails when he hears the knock on the door.

Not two seconds and he has the door opened, meeting with the sight of you. Panting and disheveled and perfect. And he freezes. Not one muscle inside him moves. Except for his stupid mouth.

“You love me,” he says, spontaneously, the words mindlessly coming out of his lips like in a dream.

You’re visibly taken aback at the line as you gasp and your eyes widen a fraction.

Shit… What the hell is wrong with him? He swiftly clears his throat, “Ahm, hi,” he manages to say, praying that somehow, he could erase that first sentence.

“Hi,” you answer, still clearly nervous, fidgeting with your fingers, but not taking your anxious eyes away from him, until you take in a harsh breath, “Yes, yes, I love you,” you burst out, while you suddenly step inside the place, walking past him, “I’ve been so stupid, but I was confused,” you drop your purse on the floor and, gesticulating and shaking your head, continue, “I-I thought I wasn’t sure about you, and then I was afraid I was gonna hurt you, but ended up hurting you anyway. God, I wanna kill Eddie, but no, I’m not here to talk about him,” you pace around, your trembling hands all over the place.

While you keep your rumbling confession, you miss Bucky slowly making his way to you.

“I’m here to talk about us, I mean… if you still feel how you told me you felt, I mean… after what Eddie told you, I don’t know if you still feel the same way, but I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I had work to do, and I forgot my stupid phone, I-”

You sulk in a breath when Bucky is right in front of you. Staring intently into your eyes. You inhale some needed air, slowly, “I love you,” you say again, “I had no idea things would go this way, I didn’t even know that love could feel like this, so…” you search for the word taking another breath, “so damn wonderful. But it does, and I love you, I do. So much. I had a whole speech prepared, but that’s it. I love you.” You shrug.

Still unable to move a muscle or utter a word, Bucky keeps staring at you, like he’s in some sort of trance.

“Ahm…” You gulp, “Don’t you wanna maybe, ahm, say something?” Your voice falters, before you bite your lower lip, as if it’s getting hard for you to breathe.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky finally speaks, and, with the word choice, he can see the smile that threatens to curl your lips, but just don’t get through because you’re still clearly too nervous to allow yourself to smile, “I love hearing you talk.” He steps closer, seriousness all over his voice, “I could listen to you all day, all my life, but right now, I really want to kiss you, ok?”

That smile fully curls your lips now and Bucky smiles, too, but it’s short lived and replaced by a “humpf” as you jump on him and crash your lips on his.

He catches you and the craving you two feel for each other are expressed in the urgency of the kiss. Fingers grasp his locks. While you pull him by the neck, he pulls you by the waist, fireworks on his brain and his guts, pure longing for the proximity of his girl. His love.

Having you like that, kissing you, holding you, knowing how you feel about him is dazzling, mind-blowing, his senses falter and next thing he knows he’s sitting on the armchair with you across his lap.

Smiles surge through the kiss before you part from his lips, only to pepper kisses all over his face… neck… lips again, “I love you, I love you,” you repeat like a mantra between kisses, holding him with a strength he didn’t even know you possessed.

“God… sweetheart… I love you. You have no idea how much. You can never hurt me, don’t ever say that again. I love you,” he breathes, you thinking that you had hurt doesn’t go unnoticed by him, if only you could see how his poor heart is melting inside his chest with all the love he’s feeling and receiving from you.

His breath hitches when your teeth graze his neck, “I missed you…” You whisper, your voice becoming dangerously low while your hand wanders through his thigh, “And I missed this.” Your hand meets his crotch, caressing the bulge forming there, making Bucky’s brain short-circuit, “You’re so gonna love make up sex… I believe I have a lot of making up to do with Little Bucky.” You bite his earlobe, putting a bit of more friction over his bulge.

“Fuck… shit…” Bucky curses, “I want it so damn much, sweetheart, you have no idea how much, but, ahm…” He clears his throat, “Not in front of the baby.”

You lean back and frown at him, “Huh?”

Bucky wiggles his eyebrows and nods behind you.

You follow his gaze and there is Alpine. Seated on the carpet. Staring up at them, in all her confident and glorious demeanor.

“Oh.” You swiftly remove your hands from his pants. Suppressing a laugh in your lips, you turn to Bucky again, “What is Alpine doing here in the safe house from your very Avengey mission?”

“Yeah…” Bucky tickles his tongue before tightening his lips, holding you on his lap by your waist, “You know… she just can’t leave my side anymore. “

“Of course,” you put on a mocking frowning expression, nodding your head, “She is the one who can’t leave your side, yeah…” You chuckle.

He’s got a guilty smile on his lips, but before he can offer you a comeback, a meow catches your attention before Alpine jumps on your lap.

Bucky feels the tension on your body by the surprise as you stare down at the white cat.

“Bucky… Bucky…” you barely whisper, not moving your body in the slightest, while Alpine sniffs your hand before curling down comfortably on your lap.

“Oh my God,” You breathe and aim a disbelieved, yet incredibly satisfied smile at Bucky, still not moving a muscle as if you would break the spell if you did.

“I told her she would love you,” Bucky shrugs, feeling no surprise at all. He removes the arm from around your belly to allow Alpine to accommodate herself better.

“Aww, Bucky,” you coo, looking down and scratching behind Alpine’s ear, whose eyes shut at the petting, “You’re one protective little girl, aren’t you?” You address her, before turning to Bucky again, “I bet she knows I’m sure about you now, and there’s nothing she needs to worry about.”

“Is that so?” Bucky grins.

“That's so.” You nod, leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek, “Although, I gotta be honest…” You say, leaning back, with a smirk, “I thought it would be harder to win you over now.”

“Sweetheart…” Bucky puffs with a scorning expression, shaking his head, “The sooner you learn this the better: I’m a sucker for you.”

Your smile widens and you lean in to kiss him, but something catches your eyes behind his shoulder, “Ahm… is that my perfume?” You frown at the familiar bottle peeking out of his backpack thrown on the floor behind him.

Bucky doesn’t even look behind him, knowing he’s just been caught while you look back at him with amusement growing in your expression.

“Bucky Barnes, did you buy my perfume?” You ask with a gleeful voice.

Well, he better might as well use his armory, too, and, using the same tone of yours, he asks, “Is my name on your phone “Bucky Soft Tongue Barnes?”

You gasp, “How do you…” you start to ask, but doesn’t need to finish as you squint, “Nat…” You say in defeat.

Bucky laughs, while absentmindedly running a hand over Alpine’s back on your lap. “Face it. We’re a couple of creeps, sweetheart.”

You smile sweetly at him, “Yeah… But you’re my creep.” You lean over and peck his lips.

The sound of the door being burst open makes you yelp and almost fall from Bucky’s lap. He catches you steadily, while you hold Alpine protectively.

“Hello, lovebirds.” Nat has a smug smile on her face.

“Jesus, when will this ever stop?” Bucky glares at her, while you try to recover your breath.

“This is getting ridiculous,” you add, not bothered to leave your position on Bucky’s lap.

“Are they decent?” Steve’s voice is heard from the outside.

“Physically, yes. Morally? Never.” Nat answers, her smirk widening while she walks inside.

Steve then comes behind her, with a proud and excited smile on his lips.

“I knew this thing would work out,” Nat says, finger waving between you two.

You and Bucky look at each other and scoff, before you turn to her, “No, you didn’t. You were fucking terrified.”

Like a perfect eight-year-old and not the greatest spy on earth, Nat crosses her arms and, squinting, shows off her tongue at you.

And that’s when Alpine, still in your arms after the scare Nat gave you, hisses at her in her very peculiar and protective way. While Nat raises an eyebrow at her, your jaw drops and you exchange excited looks with Bucky before you smugly pet the cat’s head and tell her what a good girl she is.

Bucky decides, right then and there, having his two girls in his arms, that he’s the happiest bastard on the planet.

~~~

He is the one who knocks on the door while he holds your hand tightly. Bucky looks at you and smiles. When you look and smile back at him, he wonders if his heart would ever stop altogether at that sight, cause it sure feels like it every single time.

“Hey, oh-“ Eddie gulps down his words when he sees you at his door along with Bucky.

He obviously wasn’t expecting Bucky to be there, too, and it brings a smirk to Bucky’s lips, his fingers intertwined with yours.

“Can I get my stuff now?” You ask and the sheer disdain in your voice could be enough to make Bucky hard right then and there, but he focuses on the glare on his face at the stupid short asshole in front of him.

Eddie’s gaze lifts from the joined hands before he looks at you and nods, an astonished expression on his face.

The scowl on your expression eases when you look back at Bucky with a smile, “Wait for me?”

“Sure sweetheart, call my name if you need me.” He smiles back before you lean in and peck his lips in front of Eddie.

Oh… his mischievous girl.

Without sparing one glance at the man on the other side of the door, you walk past him towards your former bedroom.

At the very same second Eddie makes a move to go after you, his shoulder is swiftly pushed against the doorframe by a metal hand.

“I know for a fact I can smash your head using only one of these,” Bucky waves his metal fingers in front of Eddie’s face, “That’s the reason why I haven’t laid them on you, yet, cause you know… I’m a good guy and stuff…but I’m willing to forget all about that and do it anyway if you take another step towards her,” Bucky threatens through his clenched teeth, “Am I clear?”

“Y-yes,” Eddie stammers, widen eyes on the metal hand.

“Now you go and sit on that pretty couch… which I know quite well, by the way,” a wicked smirk curls his lips, before the deadly glare shifts Bucky’s face again “And you wait there until we leave.”

When Bucky lets go of Eddie’s shoulder, the guy rushes to the sofa and stays there. Completely quiet and still, avoiding Bucky’s unyielding stare on him.

Minutes after, Bucky catches your packed bags for you and you walk away hand in hand without looking back.

~~~

As he takes quick steps to his place, Bucky can’t believe he’s finally going to see you again. Ever since you two finally set things up, work has been a complete bitch. He’s been called to another emergency mission, from which he has returned this morning, but then has been stuck in a conference room ever since. Fucking Nick Fury…As for you, you also had to work on the reports of your mission with Thor, and not even by phone you two have been able to talk much.

To be honest, it’s been only a couple of days, but now that he knows you love him back, he can’t wait to have you in his arms… and in some other parts of his body that’s been aching for you, too.

Thank God for Tony Stark, who just couldn’t cope with you staying at a hotel and, in a matter of hours, there was an apartment in the Tower waiting for you. Now that he’s only a few floors away, he plans on taking a quick shower and running straight to you.

His pace halts once he’s at his door. He frowns. Something’s out of place. Positioning his flesh hand over the gun on his thigh holster, he slowly turns down the knob of his door.

“Please, don’t shoot me.”

The sweetest of sounds, the sound of your voice makes him let out a relieved sigh right before a smile crosses his lips. He moves his hand away from his gun to open the door fully. The sight he catches when he does, takes his breath away all over again.

The lights are dim, only scented candles illuminate the place while rose petals pave the way from the door. There’s a small round table right there in the adjacent dining room, set with fine dishes and glasses and decorated with a crystal vase and fresh flowers.

Beautiful.

But not as beautiful as you. Standing there in his living room, wearing a short lace black dress with thin shoulder straps and a V-neck that makes his mouth water. You won’t be wearing that much longer, that much he knows as his pants become tighter.

He doesn’t realize for how long he’s been staring at you, until you move your gaze away for a second, biting your lips and scratching the back of your ear, “Hi,” you whisper and Bucky can see your shoulders getting a bit tense, “Welcome to our first date.” You give him a cringing smile and lift your arms, gesturing for him to see around the place, “Hope it’s not too much, though… I did spend a few hours fixing this up, Alpine was a doll and has been here keeping me company until she got bored and went to take a nap, I guess. I did not have time to cook but Tony offered his personal chef services and all we need is to call-”

After a few long steps he shuts your sweet nervous rambling by pressing his lips on yours. He pours all his love into the gesture and hopes he can erase whatever vestige of doubt and insecurity in that pretty mind of yours.

“I was dying to see you, sweetheart,” he says, breathing hard, just as you do, when he parts away, keeping both his hands on your cheeks, while you circle your arms around his waist. “This is… “ He looks around, “Incredible… You… shit… you look fucking sexy.” He groans, giving your body a once over, which makes you chuckle, “I’m only sorry you beat me to plan our first date. I should be the one to make all of this for you,” he says, tenderly brushing his thumbs on your cheeks.

You smile at him and tilt your head to place a kiss on his hand while one of yours starts drifting down his chest, “I’m still in debt with Little Bucky, aren’t I?” You wink at him while your wandering hand cups his cock through his pants, making him suck in a harsh breath, “And from now on I’m going to romance the shit out of you.” Your smile turns into a mischievous smirk.

“Shit,” Bucky breathes. Smiling, he leans over and captures your lips again. Not so gentle this time, since your cheeky words and your touch only makes the fire in him burn even hotter.

His hand drops from your face to your waist and he pulls you to him before he adventures down your ass, grabbing a handful of it through your dress, which makes you whimper through the kiss.

God, he loves the little sounds you produce when he touches you like that and he’s determined to coax a bit more out of you when he dips his hand under the hem of your dress and grabs your ass without the fabric’s barrier. But he’s the one to make a strangle sound to find out you’re wearing nothing underneath it.

“Fuck.” He parts from your lips only to ravish your neck, “Can the food wait a little, sweetheart?”

“Fuck yeah… please.” You pant, still brushing your hand on his aching cock.

He drags his lips to yours again, making the kiss deep and sloppy, savoring the feel of your tongue on his, the sweet taste of your mouth. You hike up your thigh around his waist, and his hand moves from your ass to between your legs. You moan through his lips and he groans to find you wet and ready for him.

His naughty, naughty girl.

“Honey…” He breaks the kiss but keeps his finger drawing little circles on your lips, watching closely while your swollen lips part and your eyes flutter. “I promise I’m gonna take my time and properly savor you throughout this whole night, but right now?” He pants and shoves a finger inside your damp cunt, “I just can’t take any longer, I need to have you. I want you so badly, do you want me, too?” He coos, curling his fingers on the point that always makes you yelp, gaining the aimed reaction from it.

“Fuck…” You curl your arms around his neck and lean over to whisper on his ear, “Always, baby. Always… I want you to rail me.” You grind your hips on his hand, like you’re desperately trying to get off solely from that.

“Dear God, I fucking love you.” Bucky bites the crook of your neck, but removes his finger from your pussy to grab your ass again. When he makes you come for the first time that night is going to be with his cock deep inside you, not his finger.

Breathing hard, you lean back and drop your leg. You quickly start working on his uniform. Not long after, you let out a frustrated groan. “Who the hell makes those?” You frown, fumbling with the complicated stripes.

“No time to deal with that right now,” Bucky states, and with ease, he handles you, ruthlessly, just like the way he knows you love, until he has you seated on the big and fluffy armrest of his couch.

He twists your legs to the side over the cushions, “Let me see that pretty pussy,” Bucky pants, voice thick with desire, lifting your dress just enough to give him the view and the access, “Shit…” he curses under his breath when he catches an eye of your glistening folds.

While he keeps himself on his feet, he works on his belt and zipper with one hand and holds your hips with the other. He absolutely loves the way you’re looking up at him, with that gaze of yours of sheer anticipation, lust and satisfaction he always saw in your eyes, but now, there’s something more. Something else… love. Hell, if that doesn’t make him even harder for you.

“You make me so fucking hard, sweetheart,” Bucky pulls his aching cock away from his confines and without waiting another second, he bends his knees a bit to align with your position and enters you.

“Holy shit,” you both gasp in unison.

At the comforting feeling of your warm and tight cunt - fucking finally - Bucky just holds back and, encouraged by the sweet begs coming from your lips, he supports one of his knees on the cushions, holds your hips still and starts fucking you. Right there, over the armrest of his couch, you both fully clothed, but desperate for each other.

You feel so damn good around his cock, and so damn beautiful with your cheek sunk deep on the sofa, your hands holding yourself on where you can, eyes closed and lips parted, sweet and filthy sounds coming out of you.

Bucky feels his core tighter and tighter and he knows he’s not gonna last long. He’s been waiting for this for so long, so desperately. He loves you so much. He wants you so much.

He tells you that, while he shoves his cock relentlessly inside you and leans down, not resisting to pull one stripe of your dress to expose one of your breasts to him. You cry out when he grabs the soft flesh. His hand moving in the same rhythm of his hips. Hard and deep.

“Holy fuck, baby, I’m gonna come,” you announce and, as soon as you open your eyes and your gaze meets his, your cunt squeezes his cock and you cry out. Not moving your hooded eyes away from his while you soak his cock with your climax.

Bucky is done for. If there had been any doubt of how much he’s a sucker for you, now it would be completely vanished. But, in fact, there hasn’t been any doubt about that in him for a really long time.

Having held himself back for a while now, the look on your face and you calling him “baby” are enough to make his pace become erratic and drive him to his own release. He moans and pants through the explosion of ecstasy, shoving his hips a few more times in you and filling you up with spurs of his pleasure.

You’re still fighting to breathe when Bucky leans over and crashes his mouth on yours, giving you a bruising kiss before sliding out of you and dropping his body on the couch next to you, not without pulling you with him.

He places you on his laps and you straddle his hips. You hold him, sinking your head on his neck, breathing him in. Your body shakes with the aftershocks of the pleasure you have just shared. The best orgasm he’s ever given you, the first one after you acknowledged and shared your feelings. Feels different… better… How you missed this… missed him…

“Enjoying our first date so far?” You ask, the sound of your voice coming out raspy and still breathless.

“Couldn’t be better,” he speaks, his hot breath fanning the skin of your neck.

You hold him even tighter and then giggle when you feel the wet touch of his tongue right there on the sweet spot between your shoulder and neck. You turn with the intention to kiss him and that’s when you realize he’s still in his mission uniform and you feel the fabric of your dress clinging to your skin, sticky with sweat.

You smile at him and brush your lips on his before getting up and, pulling him by the hand, you guide him to his bathroom.

This time he helps you with the strips of his gear and takes off your dress, before you two step into the shower. Nothing sexual happens, but that shared shower it’s one of the most intimate moments of your life. You leather him and he washes your hair. You play splashing water on him, and he kisses you. You hold him and he tells you he loves you.

After the shower you should’ve come back to the dining room and ordered your food, but he takes you to his bed instead.

You get between his legs and suck his cock, slowly, reverently, peppering sweet and small kisses all over it until you swallow his pleasure. He kisses and licks and bites every little inch of you, savoring you like he promised he would. He makes you come with his tongue right before he enters you again. Forehead to forehead, breath to breath, skin to skin.

“I love you” is whispered repeatedly between harsh breaths and long and deep thrusts. His hands and lips on your skin. Your teeth on his. With his cock in your cunt and his finger on your clit he begs to see you come, to squeeze and soak his cock and, after you do, completely out of breath, he reaches his climax, too. Like he always does, he finds pleasure by giving you yours.

Your man. Your love. Your Bucky.

He stays beside you while he kisses you, neither of you willing to break the connection, yet.

When he looks down on you, there’s something of mischief on his loving gaze and on the beautiful smile on his lips, “So…Little Y/N missed me, too, huh?”

Your eyes widen for a second and you choke on your laugh, “No.” You shake your head while he laughs, “Don’t even start. Absolutely not… But goddammit, you’re cute,” you pull him to give him a smooch on his lips and then on his nose, “Now...” you say, while he keeps the adoring gaze down on you, “I love you so much. But can we move forward with our first date and eat something?” You cringe, “I’m starving and it’s all your fault. And Little Bucky’s.” You quickly add.

His head falls back and his nose scrunches in that adorable way of his while he laughs, “Alright, let’s go… but first,” he stops you with his lips on yours when you excitedly try to get up.

The kiss is long and soft and everything you’ve ever dreamed of. The hell with food, you’re pretty sure everything you need is right there, on top of you, kissing you and loving you like that, making your heart flutter and turning your legs into jelly.

You almost whine when he breaks the kiss and rests his forehead on yours, “You know,” he whispers, “I found out that it’s not just my buddy down there who has a strict preference,” he smiles cheekily, and you can’t help but smile, too, before he puts on some playful and exaggerated drama on his voice, “Turns out, my poor old fragile heart has it, too, and I’m gonna need you to take good care of it.” He brings your hand over his chest, “Do we have a deal?”

Your smile grows even bigger, filled with love, before you give him your answer.

“Always.”

THE END.

~~~

A/N 2: There it is, guys, this was my attempt at writing some light and fun rom-com. I really hope some of you have enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It feels like I say this every time I finish a story, but I had so much fun writing it, this might be my favorite story so far. It’s definitely my favorite Bucky and I can’t part from him. That’s why I have a few oneshots planned so we can get a glimpse of their sexy adventures throughout their relationship, things that might’ve taken place during their deal, but also after what we’ve seen here in the main story.

I can’t thank you enough for the incredible support I’ve received for this story, I feel so fortunate for having such amazing readers, who I consider as a very important part of my life. I tried to engage and interact with most of you, sorry if I ended up missing a few responses. I do read and reread the comments and asks often, though. You make my days brighter. Thank you. Love you.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfiction #it's a deal

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cafeinthemoon · 3 years

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Founders with a sweet and silly s/o 🥺

So this was requested by anon (thank you for doing it btw ) and here we have the Founders with a s/o who’s the chaotic, sweet type who keeps doing silly things like booping their nose, making cute lil noises and giving them koala cuddles. Yep, I didn’t forget that part, anon lol

I’m also trying to write shorter posts because as much as I recognize that it’s good when we can get lost in an endless list or chapter, sometimes the best things come in short pieces so in this post I’m going to try and be brief 😌

Fandom: Naruto | Founders

Symbols: ◻ | 💗 | 💜 | 💚 | ▶

Hashirama 🌱

Guess I don’t need to say that he’s the one who first gets used to your manners

When he first met you, the first thing he thought was how can someone be so cute and sweet God bless 🥺

Could someone like this really exist in this world? He’s glad that the answer is YES

This man would do anything to take care and protect his cute, silly s/o

His greatest joy is to see your smile every time he does or says something you find funny

His favorite part of the day is when he comes home and finds you ready to give him some of those tight hugs from behind

Your love language is primarily physical, so lots of kisses, cuddling and random affectionate gestures are expected

If there’s something that you specially like to do, it is to brush Hashirama’s hair whenever he’s sitting near your hands’ reach

You’re always smelling it, curling strands in your fingers and even braiding it

(You are probably the only person in this world he trusts to take care of his hair)

Maybe the only difficulty he has while dealing with you is when you decide to make the weirdest questions at the most unexpected moments

There was this time when you were walking through trees and you asked him if he could understand what they say 😂

When he gave you a negative reply, you asked him if they even recognize him as their fellow

“Well, I’d have to ask them about it, but since I can’t do it…”

Tobirama 🌊

First of all, whatever this man has to say negatively about the quirks of his s/o doesn’t come from his heart

Because deep inside he LOVES you, you silly one

It’s true that when he met you he was decided to not look at you a second time, but here you are, occupying his thoughts whenever he has a free time in his busy schedule

You know, Tobirama appreciates sincerity and originality, so his view on you changed when he realized you weren’t playing a part by acting that way

Now, he can’t imagine living a life that’s not punctuated by your random kisses on the top of his head, your finger booping the tip of his nose, your voice calling him silly nicknames or the moments when you try to take a nap by laying your head on his fur (your fav thing ever)

Perhaps among all of your quirks the one that Tobirama loves more is the cute noises you make when you fall asleep in bed while cuddling with him like a koala 🐨

The only exigency he has is that, for everything’s sake, you NEVER do these things when he’s working or treating with important people

After all, this grumpy old man has a reputation to maintain 😏

Madara 🔥

In this case, things were more… complex, not to say complicated

Because unlike the previous founders, Madara scared you when you first met

You had to gather all the courage you had just to talk to him

And he was a bit unpredictable: you were never sure if he would be gentle or do something that would break your heart 😣

To speak the truth, Madara really liked you since the start

Your sweetness and innocence were just adorable to him

But it was in his blood: he needed to provoke you from time to time

And you took some time to understand that he was just joking

So sometimes when you attempted to play with his hair, he would grab your wrist and make you look into his eyes and promise you’d never do this again

One day, when you hugged him from behind calling him “Maddy”, he quickly took you on his lap and covered your mouth with his palm in a threatening manner

When he did this, you started to cry

It was when he understood he was pushing you too far

He apologized and explained that he wasn’t serious

After that, he reassured his love for you, making it clear that you were always free to be your sweet, silly self, and that he would never feel at ease if you weren’t comfortable beside him

(Today when you call him Maddy he kinda regrets being so emphatic about that)

#naruto requests #naruto headcanons #hashirama x reader #hashirama headcanons #tobirama x reader #tobirama headcanons #madara x reader #madara headcanons #hashirama #tobirama #madara

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capricorn-stark · 3 years

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Protégé

pairing: red hood!jason todd x robin!reader, slow burn

warning: swearing

a/n: for context, this is somewhat loosely based off of Battle for the Cowl (2009) which I definitely recommend as a read!

There was something about falling that you would never, ever get tired of.

Ever.

Probably.

With the wind whistling in your ears, your hair floating up in a million directions, and your limbs seemingly weightless as the buildings and lights blurred into one endless streak of color, the rush of adrenaline that ran through your body right before your grappling hook shot out and you landed quietly on the concrete was about a million times better than any sparring session back at the cave.

You grinned as you straightened, rather proud of the fact that you had actually managed to land so smoothly without nearly paralyzing yourself. Again.The landing was something you had been working on for a while now.

You could practically hear Bruce’s voice ringing through your head after your little stunt, lamenting on and on about how you had more important things to focus on during patrols, and you let out a sigh as you ran down the backway of the nearly empty streets.

The heavy man who had been bound up with a decently made gag and one of Bruce’s fancy tech pieces (Batcuffs, maybe? Something else with Bat smacked in front of it?) grunted beside you.

“What? Not like you had someplace to be.” You grabbed the back of his rather tacky-looking spandex suit to drag him along back to where your mentor was supposed to be.

Despite your (many) disagreements and his (many) criticisms of your hand-to-hand combat skills, attitude issues, and pretty much everything else relating to you, Bruce had actually still allowed you to go off on your own tonight. It might’ve been because he wanted a few hours of nothing but beating up petty criminals by himself for stress-relief, it might’ve been because he had started trying out that whole independence thing with you a little more (even though you were still only permitted to be about five blocks or so away), it might’ve been plot-convenience - but either way, you appreciated the gesture.

It didn’t take long for you to pull your new friend over to what should’ve been your rendezvous point with Batman, letting the man drop with a dull thud and a grunt of protest against the concrete as you glanced around for the other man. You weren’t particularly concerned by the fact that the Bat himself wasn’t there yet - after all, he was the goddamn Batman. He’d show up eventually. In the meanwhile, you decided to go over the information you had gotten on the criminal with you.

Just for the sake of it. Bruce would make you go over it anyways.

“Drury Walker, thirty-two years old, found him trying to mug someone in a back alley and make an escape. Called himself…” you paused, looking down at his sorry-looking outfit for a few moments while he looked up at you with murder and vengence in his eyes. “...Killer Moth.”

“Killer Moth?” A completely new voice repeated in disbelief, causing you to immediately whirl around to face them in a fight stance, heart racing at a million miles per hour. The guy in front of you had his hands up in the air, his face concealed with some sort of red knock-off Iron Man helmet. He was gonna get copyrighted by Marvel Studios. “Shit, sorry,” he started at the sight of you, still leaning up against one of the walls. “I was supposed to make a wholeass dramatic entrance, but you said his name was Killer Moth and that-” The man made a noise that was either a sharp cough or a laugh of some kind. “-sounded so fucking lame I couldn’t help myself.”

Despite the fact that you were definitely in some sort of major trouble with this new guy, he really did have a point. Even Killer Moth himself would’ve been embarrassed by how trash his name was, if not for the fact that he looked like he was on the verge of an aneurysm - understandably so, since the new guy had produced not one, but two guns out of apparently nowhere.

“And let me guess,” he continued, pointing one of them at your head, his tone still all-too light and easy. “You must be the Bat’s brand-new Robin.”

Now this is where most people would've shut up and proceeded to be complicit with the dude holding two guns. But Batman hadn’t seen reason and made you his (sort of) partner because you were like other people. Hell no.

“Do I look like a traffic signal to you?” It had been the very first of your amendments with Bruce. You would not be fighting crime looking like a literal traffic signal or, at best, a clown from Haly’s Circus. And the tiny green shorts had to go. “Or Robin Hood?” The guy had a rather awkward pause where his gun sort of dipped. Killer Moth was looking between you with wide eyes. “Do I?”

“I guess you kinda got a point.” You huffed and he raised his gun again, getting more in-your-face as his already angry-looking helmet somehow managed to look angrier. You weren’t exactly sure how a helmet could convey so much emotion. “But you work with Batman. And I heard you went by Robin.”

Okay, so you couldn’t make him change the name, but you had agreed it would be more of an honorary thing.

“It’s complicated.”

Using such a phrase as an excuse to escape from situations you didn’t want to go into was one of the many things you had learned from Bruce in your five months of training. Somehow, that seemed to trigger the guy further.

“So you do work with Batman.”

Before he could do something actually insane, you had managed to push the gun pointed at your head away from you, using his brief second of surprise to take it out of his hands, kick him in the chest, and round back on him with it in hand.

“And what about it?”

As cool as you thought you might’ve sounded didn’t cover for the fact that you were still nerve-wracked about what was happening right then. Especially after the guy started to dramatically slow-clap like some sort of evil thespian in a high school drama.

“Not bad, Robin. Not bad.” He looked at the gun in your hands and grinned. “If you weren’t Batman’s new replacement sidekick, I might’ve believed you had the balls to use that thing.”

Now, you were an excellent fighter. You had to be, after your excessive training with the guy who had literally mastered about every martial art in existence during his (give or take) five year-long mission to find himself. Plus, some personal experience. But fighting someone like this guy? Built like a tank and padded up in a whole lot of armor and packing an assortment of knives, guns, and even a damn taser you got a first-hand taste of?

You fought hard, but about five minutes and another round of the taser later, you saw the knock-off Iron Man helmet staring down at you before the world went black.

~*~

You woke up in what you assumed was the self-dubbed Red Hood’s safehouse of sorts.

“How the hell did he rope you into this shit?” he demanded with what you could only assume was him glaring at you through the helmet. Probably some expression that made someone look all angsty and annoyed - which was fair, since he had been trying to drill you for information you straight up refused to give while bound (way too tightly) to a chair for quite some time now. Rather rude. “Let me guess. You watched your parents die.” You stared at him before shrugging.

“Nope.”

“Oh, so they just went ahead and died somehow. Untimely accident caused by some psycho bitch in a Spirit Halloween costume.”

“…nope.”

“They abandoned you as a child.”

“No, they didn’t - does divorce count?”

Red Hoodlum’s hands kept clenching and unclenching while he stood there, staring at the wall behind you in silence. From the way his chest kept rising and falling, you were tempted to believe he was practicing breathing exercises amidst his rather violent twitching.

“Divorce - what the hell is your trauma supposed to be? Why did he pick you?!”

“Hey, just because my trauma doesn’t include people dying doesn’t make it any less traumatic,” you scoffed in response, knowing you were absolutely right about that. Your middle school guidance counselor had said so (and it’s true, ladies and gentlemen, trauma comes in many forms!). “Kinda rude to assume it didn’t affect me somehow.”

He seemed rather abashed at that and you heard him clear his throat a little.

“...right, yeah. Sorry.”

“Apology accepted - can you loosen these ropes a little? It’s starting to kinda hurt.”

“Do I look ten? That’s the oldest trick in the book, I’m not gonna-”

“I’m not going to run, just loosen the ropes a little.” He still looked like he didn’t believe you. “Come on, I don’t think I can outrun your guns.” As in his literal array of guns tacked up to the wall behind him, not his gigantic biceps.

And you weren’t too worried about being held hostage by him, either. You figured you had ten minutes tops before Batman burst in through the doorway, ready to give you a lecture on why straying from the specifically designated parts of Gotham he had let you traipse around was a terribly stupid idea.

“No.” He was already walking towards the door, because apparently, he had enough of trying to interrogate you.

“Hold on, I feel like my wrists are actually about to start bleeding or something - where are you going?”

“Keep talking and I’m gonna get the duct tape.”

“Is that a threat?” Sounding more confident than you actually felt should eventually make you more confident. Eventually.

The Red Hood sucked in a breath, stopping by the doorway and turning to face you, reaching into his pockets to get what you assumed was either a gun or duct tape when you both startled from a sudden crash. The man in front of you was already whirling around with two guns positioned to shoot when you heard the familiar voice of someone else.

“Hold your fire, soldier. I’m not here for you.” A pause. “Or I wasn’t, but now I kind of am.”

Apparently, Batman was too busy to save you. Now, you got Nightwing.

And as much as you liked Nightwing, that still kinda stung.

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readyplayerhobi · 3 years

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Flower | Drabble 5

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, slight angst

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: Another little drabble! It's hard to give this couple up 🥺 this is also a scene that was basically deleted from the main series, so it's been given a time jump! I didn't want people to think it was a cliche moment (it kinda is) but...I think this gives some good clarity on how the MC has grown! Unedited as on mobile.

"Do you think your mom will like this?" You query, brows farrowing together as you turn the elegantly decorated plant pot around in your hands. It would match her current living room decor and she loved gardening.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah...why?" Hoseok asks with a distracted tone, his attention grabbed with the collection of fake plants. The two of you had come to a home decoration store as you wanted to redecorate your bedroom. He wasn't hugely interested in how it was done and you were pretty sure that he was here just to spend time with you.

Which was sweet and you loved that he was content to just be with you, but he wasn't being very helpful right now.

"...her birthday? It's next week, we're taking her out for dinner, remember?" He pauses for a moment before his lips turn into a circle.

"Oh yeah, shit. I need to book the table for that." Before you can say anything else, he's pulling out his phone and tapping away on it.

Sighing, you place the pot into the cart and begin to look with an eye for your bedroom. You wanted to inject more plants into the house but Kasumi just tried to eat real ones, so you were stuck with fake plants.

"How about C'est Bonne? Wait no, she doesn't like French food. Hmmm, Italian feels boring though. Do you think she'd like Thai, I think that'd be alright." Hoseok is muttering to himself as he scrolls and you smile affectionately.

To say he'd completely forgotten, you weren't surprised that he was throwing himself into it now.

"Hoseok?" For a moment, neither of you respond. You, because it wasn't your name and so you weren't conditioned to respond to it, and Hoseok because it wasn't your voice.

His head jerked up in confusion, gaze going to you first before looking around. The voice calls again from your left and you turn to see who it is, wondering who was calling out your husband's name.

What you didn't expect is for Hoseok's face to open in surprise, shocked recognition taking over his expression. Like, real shock and you're even more confused and intrigued.

"Yoona?" He asks, his tone slightly unsure and you realise it's obviously someone he once knew. You've heard him mention the name at some point, but you can't remember why you know it.

"It is you! Oh my god, it's so good to see you. How long has it been?" The woman in question, Yoona, smiles brightly and you observe that she's pretty. Very pretty with the kind of hair you see in commercials.

She's wearing plain black jeans that conform to her legs alongside a subtly flowered shirt. Her black pea coat tops it off with a matching deep purple scarf and beanie to cope with the colder weather.

"Err...a while." Hoseok laughs, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck and you recognise the awkward movement. He's a little uncomfortable and your stomach turns as you wonder if this is one of his hook ups.

Surprisingly, you'd never met one of them given how prolific he'd been. Though you did wonder how many of them had also been drunk and probably didn't remember him at all.

Still, you feel the urge to comfort him and move closer, resting your hand on his back in assurance. He straightens a little at the touch before relaxing into you, his arm coming to wrap around your shoulder and hugging you into him a little more strongly than you'd anticipated.

"Oh, Meeps this is Yoona, the girl in college who got me to sort my shit out?" Hoseok's brows rise as his voice turns dry before he looks back at Yoona. "This is Y/N, my wife."

Her eyes flick over to you and surprisingly enough, she doesn't give you a once over. You almost expected her to view you as some kind of threat or rival, but the reassuring smile she gives makes you realise how silly that would be.

"Really? Oh my god, Hoseok! I'm so happy for you, and for you, Y/N! I always knew he had the makings of a good partner, even if he couldn't see it. I'm glad you finally took my advice." Yoona says before reaching out to shake your hand politely.

Surprisingly, it's not nearly as awkward as you'd think to meet one of your husband's ex-flings. Especially one who'd had such an influence on his life.

"Erm, thank you. Hoseok's talk about you sometimes, thank you for helping him back then." You say shyly, feeling your stomach twist uncertainly as you take your hand back and play with your fingers.

Just like he always has, Hoseok instinctively knows when you're not comfortable and he reaches for one of your hands.

"I've told her lots of things over the years," He grins before kissing your forehead. "My therapy was very good, I promise."

That's directed to Yoona who laughs sweetly and nods in appreciation.

"Good, good, I'm glad. Anyway, I've got to be going but...it was nice to see you! And I'm really happy that you've found someone. I'd love to get to know you better but I'm sure you're amazing. Gotta be to have captured this guy's attention." She smiles and gestures towards you, causing you to feel hot with embarrassment.

"Erm, thank you." You mutter, unsure of how to react. But you're surprisingly okay with her and don't feel any form of threat, even with her important history with Hoseok. It was clear there were no feelings between either of them and you genuinely felt that she was a good person.

Before either of you could say anything else, she said her goodbyes and headed towards the cashiers at the front of the store. There was a brief moment of silence as you both tried to compute what had happened and Hoseok recovered quicker than you did.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly, his words laced with concern that matched the worry in his eyes. You knew why he was feeling like that - Yoona was beautiful, once upon a time he'd slept with her and she'd helped him realise how to move forward. Or at least take the steps there.

If this had happened in the first year of your relationship then you probably would feel disconcerted, unsure what to think about this blast from his past. But you weren't that girl anymore, and whilst you still had your anxieties, you had full and complete faith in Hoseok.

Plus, he'd been as blindsided by her as you were.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It was nice to finally meet the famous Yoona, she seemed nice." You comment, slipping your arm through his and leaning against him as you both walked towards the bedroom section. Bring so close to him meant that you could practically feel him relax at your words.

"Good, good. I didn't...well I didn't know what to think, really. I was worried you'd be upset or something." Hoseok admits, trailing his hand down your coat sleeve until he can grasp your fingers between his own.

"No, I know all about your history and it was only a matter of time before we met someone. And like I said, she was sweet." There's still some uneasiness in his demeanour though and you squeeze his hand before gently poking the back of it with a finger.

The movement makes him smile and you feel relief at him looking a little happier.

"Seriously, I'm okay. Are you okay?" It was probably a big thing to accidentally meet up with such an important fling, but but could understand why he wasn't comfortable with it all.

That was a part of his past that he wasn't entirely happy with colliding with his very happy present. So you just held on to him as he worked through his feelings.

"Yeah...yeah I am. It was just weird to see her, you know? Never expected that." He let's his free hand trail over a soft, velvet cushion idly and you hum in contemplation.

"I get it. But don't fret over it, okay? I'm fine with it all and...well, it was nice to meet the woman who helped to bring the Hoseok I know to life. Or at least, started the process. Without her, we wouldn't be here."

Hoseok is silent as he considers that, his lips twisting before he licks at his lip ring and nods.

"Yeah, you're right. She's the one part of my past that I'm okay with you seeing in person. I should've thanked her…" Muttering, he sighs before shrugging with a lopsided smile.

"Oh well, let's carry on shopping. Your decorations await! And I need to finish booking that table...I'm actually thinking of maybe trying that Lebanese place…"

#networkbangtan #armiesnet #hoseok x you #hoseok x reader #hoseok drabble #hoseok fluff #hoseok fic #bts drabble #bts fluff

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spacexcowgirl · 3 years

Text

Don’t Go Wasting Your Emotion - F.W.

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Y/N enters a fwb relationship with Fred, only to realize she’s going to have a lot more trouble keeping things platonic than she thought.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: 18+ NSFW. MINORS DNI. Smut, Oral (male receiving), masturbation, light hair pulling, exhibitionism (sort of? I mean they do it in a public bathroom so yeah), unprotected sex, possessive talk, swearing, brief alcohol mention. pretty angsty throughout but it ends fluffy so.

A/N: I’m obsessed with the fwb trope and wanted to see if I could write a smut, so here we are. Any feedback is greatly appreciated, and let me know if I missed any warnings! Pictures are from Pinterest. (Also, I know this is a repost. Let’s see if the tags actually wanna work this time :) )

You watched as Fred’s grip on his glass tightened, his jaw clenching ever so slightly as his eyes remained trained on the dance floor. You couldn’t allow yourself to follow his gaze, because you knew what you would see, and you knew it would break your heart. Angelina was there, and she was dancing closely to some guy that wasn’t Fred. Judging by his change in demeanor, he wasn’t as over their breakup as he had claimed.

You hated seeing him like this, for reasons beyond the fact that you were his best friend. It was selfish, sure, but part of the reason why you were so bothered was because you knew he would never be so jealous over you. And that stung.

It had been three months since him and Angelina had split. In those three months, Fred had vehemently claimed that he was fine, that their breakup was mutual, and that he hardly even thought about her anymore. Now, judging by the way he hadn’t uttered more than two words since she waltzed in, you and George could confirm what you already knew; he was lying. When it came to their emotions, its what the Weasley boys did best. Conceal as long as possible, before ultimately blowing up. Evidently, that blow up was about to come tonight.

“Maybe we should just go?” You placed a delicate hand on Fred’s shoulder. The action tore his gaze from Angelina for just a moment, then his eyes were back on her.

“No, no. I’m fine.” He lied through gritted teeth. “We came out tonight to have fun, so, let’s have fun.”

With that, he downed the rest of the drink in his glass and took your hand, guiding you out on the dance floor. You glanced back, just momentarily, and caught George’s worried gaze. Fred most certainly was not fine, but you could also tell that George’s worry extended to you. He knew you were one longing glance away from falling point-of-no-return in love with his brother, and that scared him. Almost as much as it scared you.

Once you and Fred had infiltrated the crowd of people, his hands were on your hips, but he couldn’t meet your eyes. So, to save yourself just a little bit of heartache, you turned in his grasp so your bum was pressed to his front. In this position, you didn’t have to face him blatantly staring at another girl. You closed your eyes and moved your hips to the music, letting yourself just for a moment get lost in the feeling of his big hands guiding your hips. For a little while, you could shut out reality and simply pretend it was just the two of you, and that he wasn’t desperately wishing you were someone else.

The feeling of his warm breath against your neck shook you back to the present, causing you to instinctively crane your neck to give him further access. His lips ghosted a line there, sending goosebumps alive in their path. They traced their way up to your ear, giving a gentle nip to your lobe before he spoke.

“It’s working, she keeps looking over here.” He whispered in a low voice.

You simply hummed in response, continuing the grinding of your bum against his hips. Truthfully, you didn’t care whether she was looking or not, but of course you couldn’t say that. So, silence sufficed.

This is what your relationship had morphed into in the months since his breakup. What had started as a completely innocent, and drunken, conversation between friends about how it should be criminal how long you had gone without getting laid, had somehow turned into this murky friends with benefits relationship you were now in. Neither of you tried to hide the fact that you would occasionally sleep together from George or other peers, which was why your current grinding appeared normal to him, but you both always made it clear you were still just friends.

So, when Fred had a long day at work, there you were, your mouth showing him in more ways than one how to relax. When George and him got into a fight, although it was rare, you were there as a thing for him to ruin, to take all of his frustrations out on. Basically just about any mood he could possibly be in, you were there to make it even better.

That’s not to say you got nothing out of the arrangement, though. Fred was there for you, too. After those awful long days that seemed never ending, when you were too in your head over an upcoming work project, when you just needed to relax a little. Fred Weasley could make you cum so hard you’d forget anything wrong in your life, including the extremely unfortunate feelings you harbored for him. Even if it was just momentarily.

Not to mention, if having Fred in your bed was the closest you’d get to truly being with him, then you’d take it. Because as you lay pinned beneath him, your name leaving his lips like a prayer, you could feel like the only girl in his world. And that feeling breathed life into you like nothing else could.

So, now, here you were, pressed up against the man who held the power to break your heart if he so chose, but who also had no idea. It seemed Fred truly thought what you had was just fun between friends. Another reason you couldn’t fault him.

“Oh, fuck.” Fred groaned worriedly into your neck before straightening up. His words and the sudden space he had now put between the two of you caused you to furrow your brows, until he spoke again. “She’s coming over.”

Fred and you had already been somewhat on the outskirts of the dance floor, which meant Angelina and the man she had entered with had to pass you to get to the bar. Of course, they wouldn’t just walk by without saying anything. Angelina had always been a sweetheart, and Fred and her had ended somewhat amicably, so it was no wonder she was now approaching with a bright smile on her face.

“Freddie! Y/N/N!” She quickly enveloped you in a hug, causing her familiar floral perfume to fill your nose. Godric, could she get any more perfect?

“I feel like it’s been ages.” Next she was hugging Fred, and although he was stiff, Angelina was nothing but friendly and carried on as if she didn’t even notice. When she pulled back, she gestured to the man who she had approached with. “This is Stephen. He’s my uh…” She seemed to falter for a moment, her eyes flicking guiltily to Fred before she continued. “My boyfriend.”

You didn’t have to look up at Fred to know his jaw was clenched, now for more reasons than one. Thinking back to when Fred and her were still together, you had heard him complain on more than one occasion about a ‘Stephen’ that she worked with. Even though she had told him that he was no one to worry about, perhaps Fred had a right to be so jealous.

There was a tense moment of silence, all four of you internally gauging the situation and where to take things from there. Angelina was the first to clear her throat and gesture between both you and Fred.

“So, uh, I hadn’t heard that you two were together.” Her eyes fell to yours, a genuine smile gracing her lips. “You know, I always thought you guys would make a cute couple. I mean, even before…” Her words trailed off, careful not to breach the subject of her failed relationship with Fred.

To save her from an awkward ramble, you decided to speak up. A sheepish look crossed your features as you prepared yourself for the ever-uncomfortable ‘actually, we’re not together, we’re just screwing’ talk.

“Well, we’re not really—”

“Not really sure why we hadn’t gotten together sooner.” Fred cut you off, his arm snaking around your waist although his eyes never left Angelina’s.

Your eyes grew wide at his words, your heart speeding up. Of course, you knew what he was doing. He was Fred Weasley for Godric’s sake, and he’d rather be dead than admit to his happily-moved on ex-girlfriend that he was still alone. Still, the thought of truly being with him crossed your mind, like it did more often than you’d like to admit, and you couldn’t help but feel butterflies.

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy.” You could tell she meant it. With that, she let her hand drop and intertwine with Stephen’s before shooting the two of you one last smile and hauling him towards the bar.

Fred’s grip on your waist had grown even tighter and you found yourself wondering if he even realized it. His breath was ragged and shallow, and when you looked up at his face you found that his eyes were squeezed shut. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to discern if Fred needed his best friend or his fuck buddy right now. Ultimately, you decided he probably needed a little bit of both.

“Why don’t you stop torturing yourself and we finally get out of here?” You pleaded.

“I’ve got a better idea.”

And before you could ask what, exactly, that meant, he was firmly grasping your wrist and hauling you to the women’s bathroom. It wasn’t a very big room, and half of you wondered if the lock on the door even properly worked, based solely on how old it looked. You didn’t have a lot of time to worry, though, before Fred’s lips were pressed against yours and he was pushing you against the porcelain sink.

You moaned into his mouth at the desperation in his actions, your hands quickly finding the base of his neck and tangling in the hairs there. In an instant, he had you hoisted onto the cool white fixture and was stood between your legs, peppering wet, open mouthed kisses down your jaw. You threw your head back, arching your chest towards him, and let out a moan as he began to suck at the soft skin below your ear.

He had quickly taken things into his own hands, as he often did, but you knew that wasn’t exactly what he needed right now. You pulled your head away, halting the kisses he had been planting to your neck, and placed your hands on his shoulders. His brows were furrowed as he looked at you, but as you gently pushed him back and hopped down from the sink, only to sink to your knees, he couldn’t help but grin in anticipation.

You fiddled with his belt buckle, undoing it as quickly as you could before unbuttoning his pants and pulling down his zipper. You wasted no time teasing him, but rather pulled down his trousers and boxers in one go, suddenly eye level with his hard cock.

Your hand wrapped around his length, beginning to stroke him in the way that had grown so familiar to you. He tilted his head back and let out a groan at your slow pace, which only encouraged you further. The second that his eyes were back on you, you leaned in slightly and kitten licked the tip, maintaining the most innocent look you possibly could. Then, you opened your mouth and swallowed him down, keeping your hand on his base to work on the extra length you can’t fit. You felt Fred gather your hair into a ponytail, gently guiding your motions against him. He hardly had to do any work, you already knew how to please him so well.

“Fuck, yes,” Fred sighed, his eyes glued to the image of his cock disappearing between your lips. Knowing that he’s watching you, you gazed up at him through your lashes and hollowed out your cheeks, your hand twisting up and down as you sucked on his sensitive tip. “Play with yourself, princess. Get yourself ready for me.”

While in any other situation you may have shot a quip at him about being a lazy git, right now you knew that realistically you two simply didn’t have very much time. What you were doing was risky, and it was Fred who needed to relieve some tension, so you’d have to be resigned to doing all of the work. Besides, sucking Fred off while he looked at you like that and moaned so beautifully turned you on to no end, so you supposed you really shouldn’t be complaining.

Your free hand snaked down and dipped beneath the waist band of your leggings, quickly pushing aside your panties and beginning to dip into your wet folds. You let out a moan against Fred’s cock, the vibration causing him to groan lowly.

This only lasted about a minute, before the reality set in that you just were not a very good multitasker. It was nearly impossible for you to keep up with sucking and wanking him off while simultaneously focusing on your own pleasure. So you resigned to pulling your lips off completely and catching your breath, allowing one hand to continue working on your own pleasure while the other twisted up and down his cock, pausing every few moments to swipe your thumb over the sensitive head.

Fred’s hips bucked involuntarily in your grip from the contact. Then he was grasping your wrist and halting your actions, hoisting you up to a standing position by your elbow. He pulled you into one final, passionate kiss, before he was spinning you around and bending you over the sink. He folded himself over your body, intent on whispering into your ear.

“I want you loud,” He grumbled against your neck, placing a rough kiss there. One of his hands was now wrapped around you and kneading at your breast through your top, while the other had rested on your hip. “I want everyone in this whole bloody pub to hear you screaming my name.”

You knew what he really meant was he wanted Angelina to hear you screaming his name, but his hands were now yanking your leggings and panties down to your ankles, so your brain could hardly focus on anything else. You let out a breathy, quiet, moan as you felt him rub the head of his cock against your wet folds. His response was instantaneous as he pulled away from you completely, eyes narrowed.

“What did I say, princess?” His stroked himself lazily, pointedly busying himself with everything but touching you.

“Please, Fred.” You simply whined. You always were slightly embarrassed by how desperate you were for him.

“I said,” He ignored your pleas, taking a step closer to you once again. “I want you loud. Honestly, if you can’t listen, you can just go back to having that pretty mouth of yours suck my cock, and you can worry about getting yourself off later.”

You let out a whimper at that, eyes meeting his in the mirror. You wouldn’t put it past him to tease you like that, so you knew you had to play your cards right to avoid it.

“Think you can listen? Think you can be good?”

“Yes,” You breathed out, your hands gripping the side of the sink tightly. “I’ll be good.”

That was all the confirmation he needed before pushing into you. A strangled moan tore itself from your lips, and you couldn’t help but shiver from the look Fred was giving you in the mirror. Once his hips were flush against your bum, he threw his head back and groaned.

“So fucking tight.” Fred gritted. “Always so tight… For me… All for me, yeah?”

“Yes, Freddie.” You moaned out, your eyes flying shut as he began to set a steady pace. Seeing your eyes close caused him to tangled one of his hands in your hair and give it a gentle tug, pulling your head up and arching your back further. The new angle allowed for him to hit at a deeper spot inside of you, causing you both to moan out.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” He urged, the sound of his ragged pants mixing with the sound of his hips snapping against your bum. “Say my name, princess.”

The question caught you entirely off guard. Obviously, Fred and you always talked to each other quite differently during sex than during your everyday friendship. Still, this was uncharted territory. Because no part of you did belong to him, no matter how much you longed for it to be so. You couldn’t think on the meaning behind it for too long, though, because as he landed another harsh thrust into you, your mind was cleared of everything but your own pleasure.

“You, Freddie.” You moaned loudly. “All yours.”

“That’s right.” Fred slid the hand that had been resting on your hip around to find your clit, rubbing small circles against it in time with his thrusts. The hand that had been tangled in your hair grabbed your arm and pressed your palm flat against the mirror. He slotted his fingers against your, folding himself further over you as his thrusts began to grow sloppy. “Come on, I need you to cum for me, princess. Need you to say my name.”

His words sent you over the edge, his name leaving your mouth in nearly incoherent babbles. He continued to lightly rub your clit, rocking you through your orgasm with a few light kisses to your neck, before he snapped his hips into yours one last time, burying himself fully before halting. He had finished inside you, leaving you now both panting as you came down from your highs.

Fred placed a soft kiss to your shoulder before dropping the hand he had pinning you to the mirror and slowly pulled himself out. You whined at the empty feeling, causing him to lowly chuckle from behind you.

Now that your brain was slowly beginning to function properly again, you could think of nothing but the way he had so brazenly claimed you as his. Since when had that become a thing? Your heart was fluttering in your chest at the idea of being his, truly, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you decided to speak up.

“Freddie?”

He looked up at you in the mirror, having just grabbed his wand and begun to perform a cleaning spell on you. His eyes were soft and kind, a stark contrast to the angry, jealous man you had seen earlier in the night, and it only endeared you further.

“Hm?”

“What you said…” You trailed off, suddenly feeling very stupid. But, you had come too far, and it felt too late to back now. “About, um, belonging, to you… uh…”

“Got a little carried away there, didn’t I?” He chuckled sheepishly, ducking his head down as he finished cleaning you up. You bent down slightly and tugged up your panties and leggings before turning to face him, finding him doing up his zipper. “Guess seeing Angie here with that prat made me feel a little possessive. Did it make you uncomfortable?” The genuine concern lacing his voice nearly made you weak.

“No.” You shook your head, a small smile on your face. The kind of smile you give someone when you’re at the very seams of falling apart, but you’re doing everything in your power to keep it together. Of course, as he had been so vocally claiming you, his motive had been her. You could feel the beginning of tears welling up in your eyes, but you knew you couldn’t let them fall in front of Fred, so you quickly turned back around and gripped the sides of the sink.

“Then what’s wrong?” Fred’s hand was now on your shoulder, urging you to turn towards him. But you knew, one look at him and you’d be done for.

Your mind was racing as you tried to think of your best way out of this situation, the way to walk away without pouring your heart out and ruining this friendship. But, then, you kept hearing him tell Angelina that you were a couple, or the way he claimed you moments before, play over and over again in your head. It was the soundtrack to your heartbreak, and you had no way to turn down the volume.

“I really just want to be alone, Fred.” Was all you could muster, your voice shaking and making you cringe.

“Obviously I did something wrong.” Fred drew his hand back, but he made no motion to leave. “So just tell me what I did and we can fix it sooner rather than later.”

“There’s nothing to fix.” You spun back around, so vehemently ready to deny anything being wrong and send him away. But then you were looking into those soft brown eyes and your heart was breaking just a little bit more and you couldn’t help but let the tears fall. “Oh, for fucks sake.” You scolded yourself lightly, beginning to wipe the tears that had fallen.

“Hey, hey,” Fred cooed with open arms, ready to pull you into a hug and help in any way he could. Even if he didn’t completely understand what was going on, he hated to see you hurting.

You held out a stiff arm to keep him away, your other hand still uselessly trying to stop your tears.

A banging at the door and a muffled voice shouting ‘Hurry up in there!’ was the first thing to pull Fred’s attention from you. He had shouted back a quick ‘just a second!’ which you had barely even registered before you were apparating away from the confined space and back to the peaceful emptiness of your flat. There, you could collapse on the floor and cry about just how foolish you’d been to think this was ever a good idea in the first place.

Fred had been shocked and mildly upset when he turned around and you were nowhere to be found, but then wrote it off as your way of escaping the bathroom without people having to know what you had been doing in there. When he exited the bathroom and found George, alone, a few minutes later, he was remarkably more confused. Had you really left the pub as a whole? Without saying so much as a goodbye?

Still, Fred resigned to give you your space. He had seen how upset you were, and how reluctant you’d been to wrap up in his arms—which was typically your favorite place to be when you were upset—and decided maybe you really just did need to be alone. If you wanted space, space is what Fred would give you. In reason, of course.

So, when a week had passed with no word from you, Fred was growing remarkably more distraught. The two of you had never willingly gone this long without speaking, and no matter how much Fred tried to reach out, he never got anything in return but silence. Your absence was weighing on him, and he couldn’t help but rack his brain helplessly trying to decipher what exactly he had done wrong.

“Still no reply,” Fred sighed as he thumbed through the last of the mail he and George had been delivered that morning.

“Hm? Oh, Y/N, right.” George had glanced up from his stack of paperwork briefly, before returning his focus on his work. Fred narrowed his eyes at his brother, suddenly very aware of his uninterested response. Fred was a nervous wreck worrying about your disappearances, yet George sat uncharacteristically calm and unbothered.

“You’ve heard from her, haven’t you?” The realization hit Fred all at once, suddenly making him feel sick.

“Well, I mean, yeah.” George set down his quill, finally giving his brother his full attention.

“And you didn’t think to say anything?” Fred nearly screamed, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

“You didn’t ask.” George rolled his eyes. “She’s fine, by the way. Just doesn’t…”

“Just doesn’t want to talk to me, right?” Fred scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “For Merlin’s sake, I don’t even know what I did!”

“Isn’t my place to say.” George shrugged. “Although, what I can say, and what may or may not have any relation to Y/N, is you are the blindest, daftest, git I’ve ever met.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m really going to have to spell it out, aren’t I?” George sighed, beginning to rub his face with his hands. “Alright, if I must. Let’s play a little game, shall we? I ask a question, you give a simple yes or no answer. Nothing else. Got it?”

“Yes, but—”

“Ah, ah, ah,” George wiggled his finger, effectively cutting his brother off. “Alright, now, first question. Have you slept with anyone besides Y/N since you broke up with Angelina?”

“No.” Fred furrowed his brows. “But I don’t get—” This time, he abruptly cut himself off when George shot him a stern look.

“Next question. If you had to guess, has Y/N slept with anyone else since you two started your little… Arrangement?”

“No.”

“Okay, now. Think back to last week, were you actually jealous because Angelina was there with some guy, or was it because she was there specifically with the guy you had been insecure about, and it brought up all those old feelings?”

“I— That’s not a yes or no question!”

“Right, sorry.” George chuckled. “I’ll rephrase; Were you actually just upset and insecure about the specific guy Angelina was with?”

“Yes.” Fred’s voice was softer now.

“Final ones, really hoping this ties it all together for you.” George leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk as he gazed at his brother. “Little jump back to question two; If Y/N did sleep with someone else since you started would that make you jealous?”

The room was quiet as Fred clenched his jaw. He hated that George knew him and his emotions so well, because it was impossible to hide from them when he was around. After a moment, he stared down at his shoes and simply nodded.

“And, would you say, it would make you more jealous than when you thought you were jealous about Angie?”

Comparing the two jealousies felt pointless to Fred, what he felt last week at the pub wouldn’t even be in the same ballpark as what he would feel if he found out you had slept with someone else. You had always been his person, someone who had been there for him even when he was a stupid teenage boy. You were the only one he’d ever venture to say knew him almost as well as George. He had always written off the tinges of jealousy he felt when other guys flirted with you as the general protectiveness of a best friend, but was what George was insinuating the real explanation? Did he actually just have feelings for you?

“Yeah, it would make me more jealous.” Fred sighed frustratedly. “So what, okay? So maybe I’ve started to have feelings for her. You helping me realize that doesn’t exactly help with the fact that she won’t talk to me.”

“Why don’t you stop by her flat and tell her exactly what you just realized, and tell me if it doesn’t help?” With that, George gathered the last of his paperwork and headed up the stairs to their flat without another word.

After a week of working every morning and crashing on your couch every night, watching every sad movie you could find, it was safe to say you were out of tears. Truthfully, now you were just exhausted. It still hurt, but you didn’t have the energy to think about it constantly anymore. For that, you were surprisingly thankful.

So when you heard a knock on your door that Saturday night, you weren’t sure what you had been expecting. You vaguely knew in the back of your mind that it could be Hermione checking in and dropping off food, as she had a few times throughout the week, or maybe George coming in hopes of cheering you up. What you hadn’t expected, though, was the frantic face of Fred, yet that’s exactly what you found.

“I’m sorry to just show up like this, I know it’s kind of late, but you left me no choice.” He pleaded softly. The worried look on his face and the bags under his eyes caused a pool of guilt to form in your stomach, so before you could really think about it, you opened the door further and gestured for him to come in.

You both made your way into your living room, each finding a place on opposite ends of your couch. For a few moments, neither of you spoke. Fred nervously ran his hands up and down his thighs, while you wrung your hands repeatedly. Neither of you could seem to look at each other.

“Look I’m—”

“George said—”

Both of you had gone to speak at the same time, causing you to both cut off abruptly. Your eyes found each other for the first time and within seconds a smile was lighting up each of your faces, light laughter bursting from your lips.

“You go ahead.” You offered, the small smile still on your lips despite the pain in your heart. Fred seemed to draw in a deep breath, seeming uncharacteristically nervous. Your stomach flipped at the potential list of things that could come out of his mouth.

“I think I’m starting to fall for you.”

Well, that certainly hadn’t been on your list.

“You… You what?” You questioned, desperate for clarification. Desperate to have him repeat it.

“I said, I think I’m starting to fall for you.” He repeated, the look in his eyes so genuine you nearly trembled. “And I know you don’t want to talk to me right now, and I still don’t know why, but this is my way of saying I can’t lose you. Even if you don’t feel the same way—”

“What about Angelina?” Your voice was soft, unbelieving that this could ever be your reality.

“What about her?” Fred cocked his head to the side. Suddenly, how upset you got the week before all made sense to him, and he realized George was right. He was a daft git. “Y/N…” He trailed off, his heart suddenly hurting from the pain he’d caused you. “I’ve been such an arse, haven’t I? I used you to make her jealous, and what I said… Oh, fuck.”

You stared down at your hands in your lap. You hated reliving that night again, but some part of you was happy that at least now he had caught on.

“Sweetheart, look at me.” He leaned forward and gently rested his hand on your cheek, coaxing you to look at him. “I’m so, so sorry. I don’t care about her like that anymore, I mean it, okay? It just sucked seeing her there with the one guy I had always worried about.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He nodded. “Godric, I’ve probably been falling for you my whole life and just been too blind to see it.” His thumb lightly traced your cheekbone, causing your eyes to flutter close. “And even if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. Because I’m still sorry, and I’ll still do any—”

His words were cut off by you nearly throwing yourself towards him, your lips hurriedly find his. Although he seemed shocked at first, he quickly melted into the familiar feeling of your lips on his, and his hand moved down to cup your jaw. Butterflies were fully alive in your stomach, and for the first time you didn’t have the urge to squash them. This felt like a dream you never wanted to wake up from. After a moment, he pulled back and searched your eyes.

“Was that your way of telling me you feel the same way?” He grinned. “Because, for us, kissing your friend is normal. So I don’t know what that means—”

“Yes, you big idiot.” You teased, although you held nothing but love in your eyes. “I feel the same way.”

Now, he really was unsure why you hadn’t gotten together sooner.

#Fred Weasley smut #Fred Weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #Fred Weasley fanfic #fred weasley x y/n

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kindahoping4forever · 3 years

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My Drug Is My Baby // Ashton Irwin

Thank you to everyone for your patience - I wrote and teased this story quite a while ago but I’ve unfortunately had some real life matters keeping me away from Tumblr. So it fits that I’m back with somewhat of a comfort fic (with a dirty edge because obviously) 😌. No big backstory, I was in a shitty mood, decided a horny smoke sesh in Ash’s backyard was the only cure and I wrote this surprisingly easily (for me). Thanks to @cal-puddies for assuring me that this wasn’t just a “me” fantasy (lol) and for cheering me on in the form of copious clown emojis in the comments section of Google Docs.🤡🤡🤡🤡

Warnings: A boyfriend!Ash fic featuring weed smoking, mention of masturbation and sex toys, dirty talk, brief manual and oral stimulation of a female, dry humping, cum play

Word count: 3300

Masterlist // Ko-Fi and New 2021 Taglist linked above

Let me know what you think!

You close your eyes, stretching out on the patio lounger and losing yourself in the music pouring from the bluetooth speaker on the table next to you. The cool night air blows across you and you surprise yourself with the volume of the pleased sigh you let out; it could just be the state you’re in but you swear it’s the best thing you’ve ever felt.

It’s only Tuesday but you’ve already absolutely had it with this week and all day the only thing you could think about was getting home, getting off and getting high. You’d hoped to tackle those last two items on your checklist with your boyfriend but just as you were pulling into the driveway, he texted saying he'd be home late.

You felt disappointed but adaptable and made a nice little evening for yourself: you ordered dinner from that Italian place only you like, indulged in a hot shower that went on for far too long and spent some quality time with your favorite vibrator. To close out your evening, you threw on your panties and one of Ashton's hoodies and headed out back to have a smoke in his “garden.”

It’s not much, just a few pots with flowers and vegetables, but he’s so fucking proud of it, especially since you’ve helped him spruce it up with string lights and furniture, you’ve come to love it as much as he does.

You sigh again as the breeze continues to tickle your skin and you wiggle your toes, trying to decide if your bare legs are actually chilly or if you're just sensitive from your high. You're pretty sure you saw a blanket by the door but that seems super far away right now so instead you just hug your knees to your chest and try to fit them inside your oversized sweatshirt.

"Thought I heard a party back here," a voice teases from across the yard.

You turn to look behind you, delight decorating your face. "I didn't hear the car pull up!" You consider running over to him and leaping into his arms but again, that seems like a lot of work so instead you just sit up on your knees, pucker your lips and wait.

Ashton chuckles, bounding over to plant a soft kiss to your impatient mouth. "Mmm, you taste sweet," he comments.

"Oh! I saved some for you," you exclaim, offering him the three-quarters eaten bag of kettle corn you've been snacking on.

He snorts and shakes his head but still dips inside for a handful. "Midnight snack in the garden and about 20 minutes ago I got five different messages that had no words but roughly three dozen kiss emojis… my love, are you high?" He spots your pipe on the table and turns it over in his hands, exaggeratedly inspecting.

"Why, you jealous?" You giggle as you swipe it back from him.

"A little," he laughs, running a hand over your face and grinning as you melt into his touch. "Had a bit of a day myself."

You pout at his statement, yanking him down into another kiss, mewling as his beard scratches your face. "I was thinkin’ about packing another bowl, come smoke with me, tell me about it,'' you insist.

“Planned on it when I heard you back here,” he smiles. “Might need to go in and grab us another snack though, evidently.”

You stick your tongue out at him. "Oh wow, you're right, I am super sweet," you observe distractedly, now happily licking your own lips.

Ash laughs joyfully, settling into the chaise opposite yours. You start off asking softball questions about each other’s day, wanting to save the bigger complaints for later, when the high can take the edge off. In between anecdotes, there’s that comfortable silence you always love falling into with him. The two of you are thinkers as well as talkers and sometimes you need to collect your thoughts before you launch into the next topic; you love that you both recognize and appreciate that need. You also love the chance to just observe your man, love watching his wheels turn as his mind works, love taking him in, marveling that he exists in your world.

Tonight you find yourself fascinated as he takes the supplies off the table and gets to work, fingers reaching into the stash jar to break off pieces of the bud, long hair falling in his face as he methodically loads them into the grinder. You can’t take your eyes off him, the metallic cylinder seeming to disappear in his large hands, veins becoming visible as he grips it, arms tensing and tattoos flexing as he twists, offering you a soft smile when he notices your gaze.

He stretches in his chair, trying to reach the pipe near you. It takes a minute to register that you should hand it to him, you’re caught up thinking about how big he looks leaning across the table, how his t-shirt pulling across his chest like that makes you want to bury your face in it, how warm it’d be, how safe and content you would feel.

Ashton gently says your name, breaking you from your reverie and gesturing towards the pipe.

You grab the glass piece and happily plop onto his chair to hand it to him, pecking him on the cheek for good measure. He chuckles at your eagerness, shifting to make room for you; he watches amusedly as you attempt to find a sitting position opposite him that is both comfortable and allows you to cover yourself with your hoodie.

“You know you’d probably be warmer if you didn’t come out here pantsless, baby.”

“You know I don’t believe in pants after 11pm, I can’t believe you’d suggest such a thing,” you reply with playful indignance, looking up at him triumphantly as you successfully bring the sweatshirt down over your crossed legs.

He cackles as he packs the ground weed into the bowl; he nudges your knee, which you correctly assume is his way of asking for the lighter he knows is in your hoodie pocket. You hand it to him and watch as he lights up and starts to take his first couple hits.

You intended to pay more attention - admire his lips wrapping around the mouthpiece, his fingers flicking the lighter, let yourself be awed at how small your pipe looks in his hand - but you got distracted at the sight of his thick thighs as he sits cross-legged in his favorite basketball shorts. You think to yourself you don’t appreciate Ashton’s legs enough and reach out to tenderly rub your palms over them, humming contentedly when you find his skin as warm and comforting as you imagined.

“Baby...” He squeezes your hand on his thigh, refocusing your attention as smoke pours from his mouth. “You’re in a mood tonight, aren’t ya?” You can tell by his sing-songy tone and goofy smile he’s already starting to relax.

“Been thinkin’ bout relaxing with you like this all day,” you say dreamily. He offers you the pipe and you take it, practically purring when he sneaks his hands inside your sweatshirt and strokes over your legs while you smoke like you did with him. “Just happy you’re home and here with me.”

Ash pulls you into a slow kiss, tongue moving in the same delicate pattern his fingers are tracing on your thighs. “I missed you too, baby,” he admits as he pulls away. “You know I try not to be a downer but it was one of those days where I couldn’t help thinking it would’ve been better if we’d just shut off our alarms and stayed in bed together.”

“God, fucking same,” you commiserate, taking one more puff before passing the pipe back to him. “Tell me what happened.”

The two of you go back and forth trading stories, the pipe and every so often, a kiss. After a while, he decides to pack one more bowl and you lean back opposite him on the chair as he sets up again. You look at the stars, smiling to yourself as the combination of your high, the breeze and the sound of Ash quietly singing along to your playlist makes you shiver. Today was hard but if it’s what you had to go through to end up here in this moment? It was worth it.

You sit up on your elbows when you hear the spark of the lighter. You watch him take a long drag from the pipe and you’re not sure what it is but he just looks so goddamn beautiful, you find yourself overcome. Before you even realize what you’re doing, you crawl over to him and bury your face in the crook of his neck.

He giggles softly, sitting the pipe aside as you attach your mouth to his neck, giving him what could either be three hundred quick kisses or just three long ones, you’re not sure, your lips seem to be moving of their own accord and really all you’re thinking about in this moment is how much you wish the beard burn you’re feeling on your face was between your thighs.

“You good, baby?” He asks with a slight rasp in his voice, which you suspect is partly from his long day but also perhaps an indication he’s beginning to feel needy for you too. You take a detour to nip at his ear for a second before you kiss your way down his neck again; you work your mouth over the front and you moan when your tongue feels the vibrations of the soft moan he lets out.

You climb into his lap, straddling him and he stretches out his legs to accommodate you. You wrap yourself around him, in a kind of koala hug for a beat or two before quietly murmuring, “Been thinkin’ bout this all day too.” You offer him a deep, passionate kiss that tells him how much you need him, today, everyday and right now this fucking minute.

Ash waits for your lips to slow and then he pulls away, cradling your face, looking into your eyes, searching. His hazel eyes are gorgeous as always but blown wide from smoking; you know yours must look similar but you can tell he sees the love in them, can sense your hunger. He makes out with you for a few minutes, following your lead, waiting to see how far you want to take this.

Your kisses are becoming increasingly heated, increasingly filled with need and he decides to have a little fun with you. His hands run down your back and land on your ass, affectionately rubbing over your hoodie covered backside as he cheekily replies, “Thinking about me all day, huh? What exactly you been thinkin’ about all day?”

A naughty grin spreads across your face. You love playing this game with him. “Started this morning when I had to drag myself out of bed even though I had you naked next to me,” you start, leaning into another slow kiss before you pull back just slightly, staying close enough that your lips brush against his while you speak. “You looked so good when you told me goodbye, laying there half-asleep, cock more awake than you were. Wished I’d taken the time to slip you inside me, started off my day by feeling you get hard for me.” You begin grinding into his lap to emphasize your point.

Ashton licks over your lips, squeezing your ass approvingly as you move over him. “If you’d have done that, I guarantee neither of us would’ve left the house today,” he laughs sinfully. “What else, baby?”

Your hands brush over his bearded cheeks. “Every time I saw my reflection today I expected to see the marks your beard leaves - every weekend I just get so used to seeing my neck and chest so red… I miss it when we have to go back to reality,” you sigh, leaning back on your hands as you grind, exposing your neck, whining a little as he takes the bait and sucks a few spots on your skin, purposefully dragging his beard on you.

“Like that, baby?” He eggs you on, helping you ride him over his shorts, hands now roaming your ass over your panties, your hoodie having ridden up from your movements. “You want to know something I thought about today?” Suddenly his fingers are firmly gripping you and he gently lifts his hips up against your center, meeting your hips a few times to show you how hard you’ve made him.

You nod, gasping as you feel the swollen head of his cock rub directly over your clit, just two thin pieces of fabric separating you. Weed always makes you sensitive but you can’t believe how you can feel yourself already soaking through your underwear, making them feel even thinner than they already are.

You can tell Ash notices it too, his fingers moving down your ass, inching closer to your pussy, clearly having felt the wet spot you’re spreading on his shorts and wanting to feel it for himself. “Mind was wandering while I sat in traffic… thought about that time we got caught in that big jam driving home from the airport? Been so long since I’d seen you… you didn’t want to delay our reunion any longer so you started jerking me off right there,” he remembers, breath heavy.

For a brief second you think he might pick you up and take you inside, fuck you against the glass door or maybe on the table in the entryway. But instead he keeps moving his hips with yours, biting his lip as the friction builds. "Got so hard remembering your lips wrapping around my cock just as I started to cum… I was so sure someone was going to see us but you couldn't give less of a fuck… Jesus, baby, you're dripping." His fingers dance over the wetness that’s spread down to your thighs and you breathe his name as he stills and pulls your panties to the side, sliding his fingers through your folds.

You brace yourself on his shoulders as he teases your clit. “Thought about you all day, Ash... was so ready to let you have me however you wanted as soon as I got home… but then you weren’t here… had to do it myself, think about you some more.” You’re not sure if you’re making sense but you’re so far gone you don’t really care and judging by the look on his face as he watches you grind into his hand, he doesn’t either.

“Saw your vibe on the nightstand, wondered what I’d missed out on,” he laughs, pressing your clit a few more times before bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking them clean. “Might have to ask for an encore performance, you know I love watchin’ you, baby.”

You feel his cock throb beneath you, as if to back up his claim. You groan and grip the tent in his shorts, pulling the material slack against him and squeezing, watching in awe as precum seeps through the fabric, leaving his bottoms almost as wet as yours. You can’t stop picturing how angry and red his cock must be from leaking like this; you decide you need to see it and pull him out of his shorts, whining when you see how shiny and wet he is for you.

You tap his cock on your clothed clit, rolling your hips over him, the both of you moaning at the motion. As good as it feels, it’s not enough and you push your panties to the side again and rub his tip directly against you, whimpering as he growls your name, his hands flying to your hips to keep you moving.

Ashton’s fingers dig into your skin as he holds you against him, thrusting steadily through your wet folds. In your hazy state, you have the briefest thought of slipping him inside you but you’re already sure you could cum from this and it’s just feeling so good… has anything ever felt this good? You don’t want to stop. As you slide your pussy over his length, you can feel every ridge, every vein, you swear you can even feel his pulse as you move against his cock. You can’t stop.

“So fucking wet, baby,” he pants, hips moving wildly now. He slaps your ass a couple times, partly hoping it’ll get you moving faster and partly hoping it’ll get you to cum sooner because he’s not sure how much longer he can hold out. “Were you this soaked when you played with yourself earlier?”

You moan when you feel the sting of his palm. “Of course not,” you huff, nearing your end. “Nothing’s ever as good as when I’m with you… fuck Ash… love your cock so much, don’t even need it inside me to get off,” you ramble as you move eagerly on him. A few breathless whimpers later, you’re grabbing onto his shoulders as you cum and shake against him.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck,” he groans, pushing through your wetness once more just as it gets to be too much. You feel his cock jump and then he’s shooting cum all across your pussy; you gasp when you feel the warmth of his release on your thighs, a stark contrast to your cool, exposed skin.

Ashton tries to keep his eyes open so he can watch himself cover you in rope after rope but between the noises you’re making and the relief of finishing, he has to let his head fall back in bliss. You lean over him, softly nibbling at his lips as he comes down.

“Hi,” you coo as his eyes flutter open.

“Hey,” he sighs, dazed.

“Think you ruined my panties,” you smirk.

Ash grins devilishly. “Is that a complaint?”

You coyly shrug and squeal as he suddenly presses the latch on the armrest, laying the chair flat, settling back to easily hoist you up over his face. You let out a desperate “Oh! Ash!” as his tongue licks you clean, eagerly moving across your folds and your thighs, mixing his cum with yours and swallowing it all down.

As he pulls away, he flicks over your clit a couple times, laughing warmly as you nearly jump out of his hold. “Relax, baby, I’m just playin’,” he soothes, pressing a soft peck to your pussy and each of your legs before moving you off of him.

Neither of you can seem to hold back the satisfied smiles painting your faces as you resituate yourselves: him putting his cock away and readjusting his chair, you peeling off your underwear and pulling your hoodie back down before crawling back into his arms.

You lay against his chest and the two of you bask in euphoric silence for a few minutes, curling into each other as the late night breeze picks up. You start to wonder what he’ll do if you fall asleep out here, when he reaches for the long-forgotten pipe, sparking the lighter to finish the bowl he started before you got frisky.

Your eyes meet as he pulls his hit and when he’s done, you press your lips to his, inviting him to pass the smoke from his mouth to yours. You easily finish off the bowl together like that and then you’re back on his chest again, sated and stoned.

“Sorry you had a shit day, love,” Ashton murmurs, pecking your forehead.

“Same… but it’s kinda funny to think that the shittiest days always seem to lead to some of my favorite nights with you,” you muse, softly sighing as he wraps his arms around you and squeezes you tight.

————-

Thank you to everyone who has signed up for the taglist, both for the support and the lovely (occasionally hilarious) feedback! If you haven’t signed up yet, the form is linked above! (If you signed up and your name is crossed out or not listed, I was unable to tag you, please check your blog settings and either re-sign up or send me a message letting me know you allow mentions now)

@matchacal @cxddlyash @2fangirl4u @cashtonasfuck @talkfastromance4 @itjustkindahappenedreally @saywhatnow07 @mymindwide @suchalonelysunflower @pxrxmoore @findingliam-o @fedorable-killjoys @trix-arent-for-kids @olivia-foster-irwin @saphseoul @calmsweetcreature @onthecliffside-mgc @feliznavidaddycal @himbohood @maggiesupertramp @wiiildflowerrr @karajaynetoday @ashtonangst @sunshineeashton @aladyofalbion @xsongbirdx @loveroflrh @memyselfandbea @calumrose @youngblood199456 @sunshineeeluke @irwindoll

#5sos smut #5 seconds of summer smut #ashton irwin smut #ashton smut #ashton irwin fic #Kindahoping4forever #kh4f fic #my drug is my baby #smut #thank you for reading!!!!#Feedback is appreciated #Reblogs (with or without tags - but tags are fun!) comments and asks would be a nice treat and distraction for me today lol #ok but fr tho i honestly have no idea where this fic came from like it just happened one day and i am not mad at it at ALL #these pwp experiments have been fun for me and I hope you're enjoying them too!#but don't worry if you're into my longform shit as well I've got a few things in the pipeline there as well #health willing i should be getting back to those soon so once again thank you for your patience #also no one asked but that pic in the graphic of Ash with the joint is probably in my top 5 fav pics of him 😍#shouts to Cass for signing off on that graphic even though it has the tangerine bag shirt which she is violently offended by like morally

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reidgraygubler · 3 years

Text

growing in a garden (spencer reid)

Title: Growing in a Garden

Requested: yes, was a request someone sent to @imagining-in-the-margins, but she offered it to me

Pairing: dad!spencer reid/non-binary!child!reader

Category: mostly fluff

Content Warning: talks about the lgbt community, figuring out gender identity/pronouns/labels, brief mentions of parental death, afab!child!reader, I honestly do not know what else needs to be tagged if anything needs to be tagged. Like always if something needs to be tagged let me know!

Word Count: 1,826

Summary: Spencer’s 12-year-old is confused about their gender identity and goes to their dad for help and advice. Later his child has some exciting news.

A/N: okay so pom offered this one to me. It’s got two of my favorite things. Dad!spencer, and a non-binary character. It was quite literally an offer i couldn’t refuse. I also added in an idea I had come up with the same day she sent me the request. Also, like my last enby!reader fic (linked here!) reader is afab and will use they/them pronouns, since that’s me. thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

“Hey Dad.” Spencer’s child looked up at him and watched as he carefully closed and lowered his book. At that moment, his child had his undivided attention.

“Yeah, Peanut?” Spencer looked down at the preteen. His child looked away from Spencer and down at their lap. They couldn’t help but pull at the loose threads on their jeans. “What’s wrong, Peanut?” Spencer asked as he sensed there was an issue.

“I…” his child paused and looked up at him for a brief moment before dropping their gaze. Spencer turned to face them more, preparing for a more serious conversation.

“Do we need to be in Safe Space?” Spencer asked as he rested a hand on his child’s knee. Safe Space was what the father and child called when they needed to have a serious or difficult conversation. Spencer decided it was a need between him and his child after his partner had passed. And he’s happy it exists. The number of times it’s helped his child was amazing. They both dreaded having serious conversations, and would rather have fun or light-hearted conversations. However, Spencer knew those serious conversations came with being a parent.

But this conversation was different. His child almost never approaches him with a serious topic. Usually it was Spencer going to the pre-teen with a worry or chore. The times his child went to him was typically about school, whether it’d be a bully or a question about a subject. Spencer had a feeling this wasn’t about school. Which made him wonder if it was about something more serious. His mind was reeling with thoughts and worries of what his child would want to talk about.

“You know you can talk to me about anything… This is a judgment-free zone,” Spencer whispered as he looked at the child. His child looked up at him and nodded. Spencer noted the mild fear hidden in his child’s eyes. Their eyes quickly dropped to look at their knee where their father’s hand was resting. “You have nothing to be afraid about. And I won’t be mad at you,” Spencer reassured.

“Sometimes… Sometimes I don’t feel like… I should be a girl,” they whispered as they looked at the coffee table in front of them.

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side. An unnerving silence fell over the pair as Spencer began thinking of what to say. He’d never thought about this being a situation. He’d read all the parenting books he could, but they never mentioned this topic. Spencer worried he’d say the wrong thing and make his offspring upset.

He’d never be mad at his child. They’d never do anything wrong in his eyes. The pre-teen shouldn’t be scared about this or their dad being mad at them. To be fair, his child had never felt this way before. They were confused and needed help figuring it out. So, they went to the one person they knew who knows everything. But this time was different, because Spencer didn’t exactly know what to say.

“Well,” he started and paused for a thought. Although none of the parenting books mentioned a scenario like this, he had read plenty of LGBTQ+ books. He knew enough about that to help his child. “What do you feel like? Do you feel like a boy?” Spencer quietly asked. His child looked up at him and furrowed their eyebrows before shaking their head.

“No… No, I don’t feel like a boy… Or like a girl… I don’t know. I don’t know how to explain it,” the child whispered as they rambled for a moment. Spencer could feel the tension his child was feeling, and the stress that was growing. The longer he stayed quiet, the more his child got scared. Spencer knew he’d have to be quick and say something. “Does that make me a bad person?” their voice was quiet and soft. They were worried they were wrong

“No, no!” Spencer exclaimed as he shook his head. His child jumped and looked over at him. He didn’t intend to scare them, but it’s what happened. “That doesn’t make you a bad person at all, Peanut! There’s nothing wrong with not knowing how to identify yourself,” Spencer started as he moved to kneel on the ground.

His child looked at him as he knelt beside them. Spencer grabbed both their hands and looked up at them. The smile that grew on his lips sacred the child, but also equally calmed them down. The child looked down at their hands, calming down as they looked at the way Spencer held their hands. It made them feel safe.

“Gender is a social construct…” Spencer started with a smile. The pre-teen looked up at their dad with furrowed eyebrows.

“What does that mean?”

“It’s fake. Made up. It doesn’t matter what you are. A boy, a girl… A robot even! It doesn’t matter,” Spencer replied as he looked at the child. His child looked back up at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Yes, you can identify as a robot… If you wanted.” That made the pair laugh, the intensity breaking for a moment.

“I can?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“What… What would the other kids in my class think?” they asked with worry in their voice and on their face. Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed together as he looked at them.

“As long as you’re unapologetically you… you don’t have to care about what anyone says or thinks,” Spencer whispered back, “You got that?”

“Yeah, yeah… Got that,” they softly whispered. Spencer’s eyebrow raised as he looked up at his child.

“What is it?”

“What… What would you call me? Like, I dunno… if I’m not a girl, and I’m not a boy… What would I be?” The child’s voice was quiet and so soft. Spencer was grateful he was so close to them because he probably wouldn’t have heard them otherwise. Spencer dropped his head to his shoulder as he looked at the child.

“Well, if you don’t want to be a girl, or a boy… We could try they/them pronouns if you want.” Spencer looked at the pre-teen as he spoke. “How does that sound?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I like that,” the child whispered and nodded.

“And if you really want to label it, we could try non-binary. And that means you don’t follow the normal gender binary. Do you know what gender binary means?” Spencer asked, even though he already knew the answer.

“No," The pre-teen replied with a shake of the head.

“So, the gender binary is what being a boy or a girl is called, because binary means ‘having two parts’. Therefore, non-binary is just a term people use to describe genders that don’t fall into one of those categories. Like, identifying as a robot, you wouldn’t fall into either of those categories.” Spencer tried to explain but it was hard for him to explain in a way for a child to understand. “Does that make any sense?” His child looked back at him and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah. It makes sense. Thanks, Dad,” they whispered as they looked back down at their lap. Spencer smiled before patting their knee.

“Of course. If you have any other questions, just let me know and we can figure it out together. Okay?” Spencer asked as he stood.

“Okay,” they replied back with a nod. Spencer looked at his child as he sat back down beside them on the couch.

And with that, the usual silence fell over the pair. Spencer went back to reading his book, while his child stayed sitting on the couch. Spencer didn’t question it. He just assumed they needed a break after their conversation and school. They were probably over-loaded and needed a small break.

That was until they asked another question.

“Hey dad,”

“Yes, Peanut?”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course you can, Peanut.” Spencer looked down at his off-spring with a raised brow and small smile on his lips. The child looked up at him with a smirk.

“I think I'm non-binary,” they whispered as they looked at their dad. Spencer smiled before wrapping his arms around his child’s shoulders. The child smiled before melting into Spencer’s body.

“I’m happy for you, Peanut. And I’m proud that you were able to figure it out,” Spencer whispered as he embraced his child harder. The child sighed deeply and nodded.

“Thank you, Dad.” “Of course. I love you, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know,” the child whispered and nodded. “I love you too.” {***}{***}{***}

“Drinks anyone?” Luke asked as everyone stepped off the elevator. The team simultaneously let out a sigh of relief at the offer. The case they had just finished was a rough one, and drinks seemed like a good way to unwind, for some. For other’s, they’d rather be at home with their spouses and families.

“I’m in for drinks,” Emily was the first to speak as she lifted a hand. Jennifer followed up, joining Emily and Luke.

“Krystall made dinner and I’d much rather see her than have drinks with you suckers,” Rossi spoke as he gestured towards the team. Everyone looked at him with a raised brow as he parted from the group.

“Wait,” Spencer looked down at his watch when he realized what time it was. Thirty minutes till 3:00pm. If he left now, he’d be able to pick his child up from school. It’d been a rough week for him, so picking them up would make him feel better, and it’d be a nice surprise for his child. “I want to pick my robot up from school.” He looked back at the team as he started walking towards his desk.

“Robot?” Jennifer raised an eyebrow as she looked at her friend, “Spence, do you mean your daughter?”

“Yeah, like real, flesh and blood, human child?” Matt asked with confusion on his face.

“No, I mean… Yes, I have a real, flesh and blood, human child. But, no, I don’t have a daughter. I have a robot,” Spencer explained as he gathered his things into his bag.

“Do you maybe want to further explain?” Tara asked. Spencer sighed deeply as he looked at his friends. Everyone surrounded his desk, waiting for a response.

“My child said they identify as a robot. And they use they/them pronouns. I’m not sure what else you want me to say. I gotta go pick them up from school. I’m sure they’ll be excited to see me.” Spencer let out a deep sigh as he threw his bag strap over his shoulder. “See you guys tomorrow.” He smiled before taking off.

Spencer didn’t bother waiting for the onslaught of questions everyone had. They weren’t exactly his questions to answer, they were his child’s. So he just left, not wanting to keep his child waiting. They’d have to plan dinner with the team so his child could tell them their news.

taglist: @mggsprettygirl @muffin-cup @thebluetint @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @misshale21 @spenciegoob

if you want to be a part of a taglst or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

#shadow writes stuff #masterlist #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fan fic #criminal minds fan fic

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rotshop · 3 years

Text

its MY probably-soon-to-be-dissociation-or-not-able-to-talk-moment and I get to choose the coping mechanism. that coping mechanism is catperson s/o fuck you

anyway hi enjoy please maybe <3 srry this isnt super well written i got brain fog momense

[ tw ; brief talk of being anxious / upset, not described in too much detail ]

"You plannin' on standing there all night or are you gonna say 'hello?'"

You scoff and roll your eyes, narrowing them in the man's direction. "Yeah, cause you suuuree couldn't have just said it yourself."

Despite the (very weak and ultimately non-threatening) bite in your words, you take his acknowledgement as an invitation. It's not the first time you've been in Deimos' room and you're sure it won't be the last, yet you still make to glance around for anything that's changed. It was a habit you'd gotten into after the first few visits, quietly searching for anything you could ask him about whenever you decided to let the act slip. You're appreciative that he doesn't make any comment about you curling up on his bed.

"You aren't great at deflecting, y'know."

"And you aren't great at being a good host," comes your prim hum.

He only laughs at that, the sound making your ears prick up instinctively. As he finally turns in the chair at his desk to look back at you, you wish you could shove them and that awful swarming in your chest down. "So, what dragged you in this time? Couldn't sleep again?"

You go silent at his question, noticeably avoiding his gaze and instead focusing your own below you. Suddenly, the blanket you've been digging your nails into seems far more interesting than anything else. The reaction immediately hints the answer, even if you don't. Before you can lie or make up some excuse, he's picking himself up and coming in front of you.

"Hey, y'know I ain't gonna judge you, right?" He questions, leaned over slightly to look down at you. Despite his reassurance and you knowing he's honest from that stupidly soft tone he's using, you just feel smaller. Physically, it wasn't particularly impressive, you'd always been noticeably shorter than the others. Though, to have him make you feel so minute with just a straight-forward, rhetorical question?

It was near humiliating.

He snaps his fingers in front of your face, bringing you back from whatever internal monologue you were on. He takes the opportunity of you looking up at him to tuck a hand under your chin, keeping you meeting his eyes. "Right?"

You give a little sigh, still embarrassed of the entire situation, "Right."

At your final answer, he grins making that feeling from before just swarm up with a vengeance. "So, you shouldn't have any problems givin' me some kinda clue as to what's going on in that pretty little head a' yours."

An unsure little groan bubbles in your throat, claws drawing into the sheets once more. You knew he wouldn't make a big deal out of it, despite how you two teased and chided one another you had limits. Whenever it came to matters like these you both let those roles slip for a while, simply finding some form of solace and comfort in the others presence.

"I don't know, I just.." you start, words failing you in the moment, "You know how like..you sometimes just feel that pit of dread or whatever, and you just kinda' sit there and zone out? It's like that but just more..sharp, I guess."

He gives a hum of understanding, moving his hand to cup the side of your face gingerly. "I get that. Is there anythin' you wanted in particular to help or..?"

The question only leaves you with a huff and blood threatening to run to your face, eyes leaving his the second they get the chance. "Well, I just- uhm.."

At your pause he makes a little 'go on' gesture, waiting simply for whatever you would request.

"Can you just kinda..hold me for a little while? Like- you don't have to if you're busy or you don't wanna or-" your rambling's cut short by his laughter.

It's not at you, even if embarrassment bubbles in you, tail weakly slapping at the mattress in some kind of defense. It leaves you in a silence that you don't quite have the motivation to fill, laying and staring up at him in a way you only hope isn't as meek as it feels. Just as he calms down, remembering himself once more you make to cut him off, take back your words with an apology or play it off as a joke. His held up hand stops you though, that mix of amusement and gentle fondness in his eyes keeping you still.

" 'Course I can, just gimmie a minute to finish some stuff up 'n I'll be more than happy to."

So, even as he pulls away from you, stealing the warmth of his hand against your skin, you stay still. You lay and wait in quiet patience, already feeling the weight of rest in your limbs as you listen to the quiet clicks and taps of his typing. At one point or another, through the fog of sleep tugging at your mind you notice him walk back over. You don't think to bite back the pleased hum and purr that follows as he lays down beside you.

You can tell he's gentle with you, far more than he really needs to be. You would prod at him about it, make some little tease he'd scoff or retort at, yet in the moment you simply appreciate it. You can tease him later for the way he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close with a little content sigh of his own. You can most definitely remind him of the quick, careful kiss he places on your cheek.

For now though, you can rest a while.

#deimos x reader #madcom x reader #madcom imagines #madness combat x reader #madness combat imagines #rot writes

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sixmapleleafs · 3 years

Text

in your arms // frederik andersen

Warning: smut, relatively soft but some graphic description and language, innocence kink (kind of), brief mentions of anxiety and a bad day

Tears threatened to spill as you headed out towards your parked car, today had probably been the worst day you’d had since you started teaching. For some reason the kids were bouncing off the walls all day, unable to stay focused on any of the tasks you had set and whenever you tried to get their attention they purposefully ignored you, which led to you raising your voice properly for the first time and having to give a few of the kids a variety of different punishments for their rude behaviour. Usually, you wouldn’t be so harsh, you often allowed them to talk whilst working or freely share their ideas and opinions with the class but the things you were trying to teach were very important and if they didn’t give it their full attention then they would really struggle with the upcoming topics. ‘At least it’s Friday’ you thought to yourself as you unlocked your car and got in, that meant you had two days where you could sleep in and relax, and also that Freddie would be back in the city before you woke up tomorrow morning. Your phone buzzed in your coat pocket as you started the car, a message from Fred lighting up the screen.

How’s your day going? I miss you

The first few tears escaped as you read his message over and over again a few times, you hadn’t allowed yourself to think about how much you missed him, honestly it scared you a little how fast you were falling for him, but knowing he missed you made you believe he might be feeling the same way. You knew things had moved fast between the two of you in terms of how quickly you had opened up to each other - though you had yet to be intimate in a physical way - you assumed it was because you were honest with him before you started dating, you had already told him about your anxiety and your previous relationship and the toll it had taken on you mentally and he had been nothing but supportive as a friend, so it shouldn’t have surprised you that when he became more than a friend he let you set the pace of things.

Not great :( can’t wait to see you tomorrow

Shutting off your phone, you threw it into your bag and started driving back to your apartment. As soon as you got there you headed straight to the couch, flopping down rather dramatically and letting out a sigh of relief knowing you could stay there all night if you wanted to. After a few minutes you pulled yourself up deciding to place an order for food from your new favourite restaurant, one Fred had taken you to a few weeks ago, the food was a little on the expensive side but you wanted to treat yourself. Once the order was placed you had a shower before getting changed into something more comfortable and putting on your Spotify playlist as you sorted through all the pieces of work you had taken home to grade over the weekend, then you cleaned up a few things in your apartment so you wouldn’t have to keep looking at the mess. Your food arrived very promptly and you settled on the couch with your plate, putting on an episode of the big bang theory to enjoy whilst you ate.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when there was knock on your door, dragging your attention away from the episode you were currently halfway through. Your brows furrowed in confusion, who would be knocking on your door this late in the evening? Peeking through the peep hole you saw a delivery man so you quickly unlocked the door and pulled your cardigan tighter around yourself as you greeted him.

“Miss Y/l/n?” He questioned politely, and you nodded in response. He smiled and turned to his side picking up a rather large bouquet of flowers, you let out a small gasp as you realised they must be for you. “Where would you like them miss?” He asked and you stepped aside to let him in.

“Just on the counter please” you couldn’t help but smile as you knew exactly who had sent them to you, “thank you”.

“No problem, have a nice evening” he smiled and headed back out if your apartment as you returned the sentiment. The flowers were absolutely beautiful, the different shades of pink complimented each other and you admired how the colours fit perfectly with the subtle hints if dusty pink you had around your apartment - something Fred had undoubtedly picked up on. A little white card was nestled in between the roses and you picked it up carefully to read the small black font.

I hope these make your day a little better :) - F

You smiled at the simple but thoughtful message, such a sweet gesture that you definitely weren’t used to. Grabbing your phone you quickly found Fred’s contact and hit the call button, the game wasn’t supposed to start for a few more hours due to the time difference so you hoped he would be free to chat. Just as you hoped he picked up on the second ring, his soft voice greeting you through the phone.

“Thank you for the flowers, you really didn’t need to do that” you didn’t like him spending money on you but you appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

“Its no problem my love” your heart fluttered at the sweet name he had never used before, “I wanted to cheer you up a little, even if I couldn’t be there tonight”.

“Well they definitely made me smile, they’re so beautiful” you gently ran your fingers over the delicate flowers, “they’re my favourite you know - roses” you felt the need to let him know for some reason but his small chuckle told you he already knew that.

“Yeah, I remember you said your grandmother grows them so I thought they probably would be” your cheeks ached from how much you were smiling and you knew you were definitely screwed, you were too far gone for this man. “Do you want to talk about your day?” His voice interrupted your racing mind and you could tell what was going through his head - trying not pry too much in case you didn’t want to talk but also concerned enough to ask. It wasn’t often that you showed him you were struggling, you had gotten very good at hiding your feelings but when you did let him in he tried his hardest to prove he was there to listen, not judge. So you told him about your day, all the things that had gone wrong and how you felt like you were failing even though you knew maybe you were being a little dramatic. He listened through all of your anxious rambling, his steady breathing helping to keep you calm before he jumped in with his advice.

“Whenever I have a bad game you always tell me that the next ones a fresh start, a clean slate and I think the same applies here baby. When you go back in on Monday things will be different, you’ll have another chance and everyday after that will be a new day. These kids are usually well-behaved right? Today they were just full of energy and couldn’t focus, just like Monday will be a different for you, it’ll be different for them and you’ll be able to get through to them”.

The two of you talked for a while until you let out a rather big yawn and Fred chuckled telling you to head to bed and that he’d see you tomorrow. Your next request fell from your lips before you could stop them.

“Can you stay here tonight?” You bit your nails nervously as you waited for his response.

“Are you sure?” His voice deep and intense as he questioned you, you bit your lip at the sound, unconsciously clenching your thighs.

“I just want to see you, please Fred” you begged slightly over the phone and you heard his release of breath over the phone and how he had to clear his throat before telling you he’d be there.

You were already asleep by the time Fred made his way to your apartment. He had told you not to wait up for him since the plane wouldn’t be landing until the early hours of the morning, and you happily welcomed sleep after the stressful day you’d had. He let himself in and due to the late hour he headed straight for your bedroom, the game had been fairly dull, an easy win for the leafs and though he was tired from the trip he was glad you had asked him to spend the night at yours, something fairly new to your relationship but a sign you were putting your trust in him. He knew you’d be asleep so he tried to be as quiet as possible when he removed his suit, though despite his best efforts you still stirred in your sleep, eventually opening your eyes.

“Fred?” You questioned, yawning and rubbing your eyes as you sat up in bed. It was then that he noticed you were wearing one of his t-shirts and he smiled at your sleepy expression, you looked adorable.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, elskede”

“Its ok” you mumbled, another yawn following as you returned his smile. He continued to undress and your cheeks heated as you tried to keep your eyes off of him. “You played really well tonight” you mentioned out of nowhere and his own cheeks turned red at your compliment. He made his way over to the bed, leaning over to place a kiss to your forehead before ducking down and capturing your lips, the kiss was far from innocent but he pulled away before he could get lost in it, knowing he’d have a hard time controlling himself if he didn’t, you were irresistible on a normal day and now that you were wearing his shirt and what he could only assume would be a pair of panties underneath, his desire for you was something else - but he’d never rush you into anything so he pulled away and got comfy under the covers, opening he arms to invite you to cuddle into him.

You peppered a few kisses along his chest and up his neck, as far as you could reach from where you were tucked under his arm. His hand was rubbing up and down your spine, reaching a little lower each time until it ran over your ass, you let out a breath as he turned to face you. He leant over to capture your lips once more, the kiss holding as much passionate and pent up lust as the last. The two of you laid next to each other, exchanging kisses and running your hands over each others bodies until Fred pulled back to press light kisses against your neck. The moan that fell from your lips was so sweet and oh so innocent, and it made his cock pulse with need.

Fred would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about having you laid out beneath him, breathy moans falling from your lips freely as he made love to you. He often imagined the two of you in various scenarios when he lay awake at night in his hotel room, or in the shower after a date, hand wrapped around his cock with thoughts of you on your knees for him, with his hands in your hair and your mouth on his cock, or what it would be like to hear you moan and whimper as he pounded into you. Sometimes he’d wake up in the morning with his cock straining against his boxers, leaking and begging to be touched after a particularly vivid dream of you spread out on his kitchen table screaming his name with his head between your thighs. He knew it was wrong to think of you that way, but he couldn’t help it. You carried a sense of innocence that drew him in and made him want to take it away, he wanted to be the one to show you all the ways a man could make you feel and so when you let his name fall from your lips in a breathy moan - he was hard as a rock without so much as touch to his cock.

You could feel him hot and heavy against your thigh and the thought brought a rush of heat to your cheeks, if it was anyone else you would’ve pulled away but it was Freddie and you don’t think you could ever pull away from his touch. He was the reason for the heat building between your thighs and you couldn’t help yourself as you pulled his body closer to yours. He used his strength to move the two of you until his muscular thigh was between your legs, allowing you to grind your pussy over him, his tight muscles creating the perfect friction and desperate whines fell from your lips as your clit got the pressure it had been begging for.

Freddie immediately noticed your movements and groaned deeply in your ear, shifting his weight slightly so it would be easier for you to grind against him as he reconnected your lips. The new angle allowed his cock to rub against your own thigh and the friction on his sensitive head had him rutting against your body desperately. You were in your own state of euphoria as his tongue continued to fight yours for dominance and your hips moved freely against his toned thigh, your panties undoubtedly soaked through - in fact Fred could feel the damp fabric and just the thought of you dripping wet for him almost sent him over the edge right them and there.

“C’mon baby, cum with me” his voice was deeper than you’d ever heard it and your pussy clenched at his demand. You knew Fred would be dominating in bed, he was dominating in many situations and just because you hadn’t ventured into that part of your relationship didn’t mean you hadn’t spent many nights imagining the things he could do to your body, with his hands, his mouth, his cock. For a split second you thought about trailing your hand down his body and stroking his length but your nerves got the better of you and so you kept your arms wrapped around his neck, gripping onto his shoulders desperately as he continued to kiss you in the way only Fred could.

“Freddie” you whined as his lips found the sweet spot on your neck, the added sensation sending you over the edge. Your orgasm was intense and had you writhing underneath him as his own release followed yours rather quickly. You could feel the deep rumble in his chest as he groaned deeply against your skin. His body fell against yours as both of you came down from your highs, closing your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. A few minutes passed, the only sounds in the room being your heavy breathing before Fred pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek causing you to open your eyes. He was smiling softly at you and you couldn’t fight the smile that spread across your own lips when your eyes met his.

#frederik andersen #frederik andersen imagine #smut #frederik andersen smut #freddie andersen imagine #freddie andersen #nhl imagines

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local-ground-apple · 4 years

Note

May I request for headcanons with the dorm leader and a f!reader who’s scared of people and always have her guards up? How would they win her over? (I’m so sorry if this is way too much and if this is the wrong place to ask for requests)

It’s not too much and it’s a good place to ask for requests. Hope you will like it~!

I swear I don’t know why Vil and Azul are so long..

♥️ probably scared you with his tantrums and quick temper

♥️ and probably scared you even more with strict rules imposed on students,

♥️ at first Riddle had absolutely no clue how to approach you, you always seemed rather anxious and cautious around him and he didn’t like it at all. Eventually, he asks Trey for some advices on how to get closer to you,

♥️ now he’s making sure you’re not near before he ruthlessly scolds and punishes students or has an outburst of anger,

♥️ Riddle tries to control his emotions around you and talk in rather pleasant voice, sometimes may turn a blind eye if you break one, seemingly insignificant rule, even though he’s screaming internally,

♥️ asks you, how was your day and oftne starts small talks with you. Riddle even offers to help you with subjects you don’t excel at, which slowly makes you warm up to him and gradually builds your trust,

♥️ when you feel more comfortable in his company, he invites you for tea parties where just the two of you eat strawberry tarts and talk in pleasant ambiance (Riddle shamelessly denies it being a date and refers to it as friendly meeting, keep telling that to yourself)

♥️ Riddle is the listener and he tries hard not to push your barriers, he’s always there to listen to your problems and is more than willing to offer you a solution,

💛 he certainly enjoys a good chase and is up for the challenge, he’s not the type to easily give up. Leona is a predator after all and you happened to be considered a prey,

💛 since you always have your guard up around others, he finds your mysterious and unapproachable aura completely endearing, Leona wants to be the only one to whom you will open up

💛 he acts more than he talks, so at first expect that lazy lion to actually put some effort – he will intimidate people you’re scared of, will carry your bag if you happen to walk in the same direction as him without even asking for your permission or he would invite you to his table in canteen,

💛 when he realises his approach doesn’t work that well and you’re still slightly intimidated by him, Leona will change his strategy,

💛 since you don’t want to be open, then he won’t be forcing you. Leona decides to show you an example. He opens up to you, tells you his honest thoughts without beating around the bush – which actually works and makes you gradually trust him more and more,

💛 Leona is not rushing you or putting any pressure on you, after all hunts are not supposed to be easy and end so rapidly,

💙 his tentacle senses began tingling when he spotted you. His greedy and calculating self was looking for a perfect moment to get you to sign a contract. You had heard rumours about his fishy deals and after Floyd personally and brutally invaded your comfort zone, you swore to yourself your feet would never step in Mostro Lounge again. It led to you having absolutely no trust in him and basically running away at a mere sight of the twins,

💙 if you were scared of people before, now you were terrified and your guards were even higher than always. You promised yourself to be extra cautious around Azul,

💙 Azul can partially understand you, he doesn’t like feeling vulnerable either and usually has hard time opening to others and prefers to keep things to himself, yet it doesn’t mean he will go easy on you,

💙 after your brief meeting when you politely refused a contract, Azul actually gives you time, he doesn’t seem pushy or overbearing. You don’t see him or Leech twins for extended period of time. After a while you began to feel less anxious and your body isn’t in constant “fight or flight” mode, that’s when Azul steps in.

💙 gets paired with you in poison class, completely accidentally, much to your discontent. Azul leaves you surprised by how respectful he is, not putting any pressure on you and helping you with task. He gently asks about your opinion and listens to you, which leaves you stunned,

💙 you don’t warm that easily to him, having at the back of your mind all the horrible rumours about him. Azul is a great manipulator. While he was seemingly giving you time, Leech twins were busy collecting any information about you, which could be helpful in the future. Soon, Azul adapts his responses to your reactions, slowly making you lower your guard in his company,

💙 offers you a small favour, without any contract and wants nothing in return. You were suspicious, he keeps his promise, which makes you slightly warm up to him, Azul views that as investment in the future and he is more than willing to make another favour,

💙 just one day Azul will return to collect your outstanding debt,

💙 if he doesn’t manage to woo you with his manners, clever tricks, then surely, he can do it through a contract, right?

🧡he is open and friendly with everyone and his bright and energetic personality scared you a bit at first. His presence was a bit overbearing to you and you couldn’t believe you would find such a kind soul in this school,

🧡 Jamil had to explain to him, why you may not want to open up to new people and have trust issues, after that he would change his approach,

🧡 Kalim wants to gain your trust and become your friend, before he would try to woo you, he doesn’t want to blow his chances with you, so he takes things slow,

🧡 soon you learn that he’s genuinely friendly and cheerful and he’s not trying to be someone he isn’t,

🧡 Kalim talks openly with you, doesn’t hide anything about himself and is more than happy to share some histories about his past with you

🧡 often tells you that he appreciates time you spend with him and how this relationship is important to him,

🧡 gradually, your conversations began to flow more easily and naturally and you find yourself opening a little,

🧡 eventually, his bright personality wins you over

💜 Vil thinks highly of himself and is sure that making you fall for him would be easy-peasy. After all, who wouldn’t want to date him? Isn’t he such a perfect lover? He knows, it’s just a matter of time before you let your guard down and fall head over heels for him,

💜 sends Rook to discreetly gather some crucial information about you, he wants to understand why are you cautious and don’t you want to trust others. After finding a cause, Vil is more than happy to impose the best (in his opinion) solution and solve your issues. You won’t even notice his attempts,

💜 Vil is an excellent actor. After learning more about you and analysing your personality with Rook, he will adjust his words, gestures to your reactions. He always creates a perfect ambiance for your talks and seems to be empathizing with you. But you will never know which sugar-coated word was his true self.

💜 makes you believe that he leads the conversations with you, while having the intention of fully listening to you. Soon, you’re convinced that he’s a reliable person in whose company you can speak without feeling judged or embarrassed. After all, doesn’t he seek to understand you?

💜 Vil judges you internally, although in your eyes, he’s a very encouraging and supportive person. He helps you adjust in this completely new word and initially he isn’t harsh to you, as he is with Epel. He showers you in compliments, builds your self-esteem and makes you feel appreciated in his company. After all, Vil is going to fix your any imperfection after you eventually becomes his.

💜 if you reject him despite his relentless efforts, special addition to your apple or an old-fashioned love potion should make you fall for him,

🖤 oh boy, he is rather scared of people, often avoiding them at all cost and now he wants to overcome your barriers you had set around you and win you over?

🖤 it’s going to be a tough challenge, Idia himself is not sure whether he can overcome it,

🖤 feels very awkward whenever he tries to get out of his comfort zone and approach you, so he practically doesn’t leave it. You’re not sure how many times you had seen him leaving his dorm, yet alone his room,

🖤 you both share a lot in common, so he perfectly understands why you may have trust issues and don’t want to open up so easily,

🖤 Idia gives you (and mostly himself) quite a lot of time and if he finally gathers lasting remains of his practically non-existing courage, he will message you,

🖤 most of your conversations would be online. Surprisingly to you, they don’t feel awkward or forced, you both enjoy them, slowly warming up to each other,

🖤 eventually you would take your relationship from Internet to real life,

💚 he is a patient fae, so he gives you as much time as you need to warm up to him. Your mistrust and fear of people, as well as having your guards up all the time is understandable to him.

💚 Malleus is not exactly an open person with a vast circle of friends. Besides, most of Diasomnia students are also cautious and discreet, so he is rather accustomed to it and doesn’t find you weird,

💚 He doesn’t mind walking in the forest with you in complete silence and doesn’t even find it awkward,

💚 Malleus is elated when you gradually become more comfortable in his company, he always makes sure you’re feeling alright and is a great listener. You could spend hours rabbiting on how your day was awful and he would be there to hear it. You have his full and undivided attention,

💚 always tells you how much he appreciates time spent with you and how much this relationship means to him,

💚 appreciates every piece of information you share about yourself and in return does the same. Generally sooner or later, you both help subconsciously help each other open up and before you even realise, you start to develop feelings for your kind Tsunotarou,

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viltrumitesuperboy · 4 years

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Babysitting Job (Peter Parker x Natasha’s Brother Reader)

Sorry for any errors within the plot. I wrote this over the course of two weeks. Reader’s powers not mentioned much.

Requested by: anon Could I possibly request a Peter Parker x Male Reader, where the reader is Black Widow's younger brother and has trained in martial arts and gymnastics and the like, but also has the ability of animal shape-shifting? Maybe all the avengers meet him for the first time when Black Widow finally gets him to live with her and Peter gains a pretty big crush on him?

Word count: 3352

You trained under your older adoptive sister for years. Natasha found out that you had been born with the ability to shift into animals. She brought you to her workplace where you would be treated as a person and not as a weapon like she had. You never stayed with her after you'd trained for a few years, leaving America to take other jobs. Every once in a while she'd check up on you, asking if you needed anything or if you could help her find some information. Even miles away, she still acted like your older sister and was just as protective.

Eventually you decided to finish your education in America, staying with Natasha at the Avengers Tower. She had an entire floor to herself, but rarely used most of it. She was a minimalist to an extent. She made sure you were settled before going to her briefing late, assuring you that she wouldn't get in trouble. If anything, you were sure that she'd scold them for starting without her.

You spent the first few nights extremely uncomfortable in the new place. You had never needed to stay somewhere for a long time, and even if it had only been a few days, you knew you'd be there for a while.

After a week, you were roaming about the R&D floors and bumped into someone.

"Oh, you," Tony Stark said.

"Who do you think I am?" you asked warily.

"Natasha's kid brother, right? With the powers? Listen, I have something for you."

"Uh..."

"Here. Have you seen this?"

He pulled out his StarkPad. You watched the video he pulled up, not wanting to interrupt someone who seemed like he was always in a rush. It was a boy with a lean figure, dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants along with a mask covering his entire head. You silently applauded him for being a beginner vigilante who wore something practical considering he probably couldn't afford body armour.

"This is Spider-kid. Well, Spider-Man. But he's young, and I want to keep an eye on him. You mind helping me out? Of course, I wouldn't tell you his identity without his consent, but he agreed that he'd be fine with me giving him protection after..." he trailed off, gesturing vaguely with his hand as if you knew what he was talking about. "Anyway, you feel up to going to high school? You're young. You'll probably fit right in."

"Mr. Stark, I have no social skills. I assure you, putting me in a high school considering my powers and training is likely a danger to my mental stability and their physical well-being. I'm not going to babysit someone for you."

Tony's features seemed to soften a bit. He looked less like he was in a rush as much as he normally did. It was something he reserved for the people he cared most about.

"Look, I get it. People are hard to talk to. And I'm not saying this as Tony Stark, owner of a large company. I'm saying this as the reason I'm Iron Man. You've seen all that through files from Nat, right?" He awaited your confirmation, and you nodded. "Good. All you need to do is just be with Peter. And I'm sure you qualify to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. This can just be a mission and they'd be glad to know that my- uh, the kid is being managed by someone they can trust because at least they know Nat. It doesn't have to be anything else, not even a favour for me. Just a job."

You thought about it for a moment, then asked to see more of the videos. Stark held out the device for both of you to see and swiping through a few. You both stood there in the sunlit hallway for a while. He was barely trained and relied a lot on his powers. Maybe you could help him.

"I'll speak to Natasha today. I think I'll help you out, but talk to him first," you said finally.

"Great. By the way, I think he'd be a lot more comfortable if he knew that you were working with me," Stark said, just about to walk away. "He knows that someone will be sent to watch him, but he doesn't know who and he doesn't trust easily. He'd appreciate if you told him who you were right off the bat. Be careful."

"For him or for me?"

"Personally? For him. I think you can handle yourself."

He walked away, the device tucked under his arm as he made his way to one of the labs. It was obvious Stark cared for the boy, and you respected Stark for his efforts to make the world safer after what he'd gone through. If this was a job, this was one you'd take very seriously.

———

Your powers meant you could shift into animals, but you could also just take the attributes of any animal you knew to exist. It was much easier than turning into a large wildcat in the middle of a city street. You'd taken the climbing abilities of a gecko, leaping from another building to climb up the tower. There was a bandana covering the lower half of your face, just so you couldn't be recognised by cameras. You had just started to open the window when a reflection on the window blocked the lights inside.

"Hey, uh, what are you up to?" Spider-Man asked.

You turned to look at him, adjusting your bandana.

"Nothing, just going home," you replied, opening the window.

"Oh! Do you live here?" he piped up.

"No, but it'll be my home once I break in."

"Uh..."

"I'm just kidding. You can come in if you want. I know Stark has a soft spot for you."

"Mr. Stark? Really? I mean, I try to text Happy all the time cause I really want to tell Mr. Stark stuff sometimes but I didn't really think he actually-"

"Hey! Get inside!" your sister shouted from the kitchen.

You quickly slipped in, Spider-Man following and shutting the window behind you.

"What have I told you about coming in from there?" Natasha glared sternly.

"That there's an elevator and I should use it like a respectable person."

"Exactly. Go change and then help me out with lunch. Hi, Spider-Man. You know where to go."

"Yeah, sorry, Ms. Romanov. I didn't know you had a friend coming over."

"He's my brother. Now hurry up. Pepper will have your head if you're late."

The conversation trailed off, likely followed with goodbyes, as you went to your room. Lunch led to a very serious conversation about joining the secret government agency along with your first job: keeping Spider-Man in check.

———

The flash drive you received had the worst possible photo of Peter Parker you could imagine. It was as if they couldn't get an actual photo of him. Considering the fact that he was an official intern here, you figured that they might be able to get something that didn't look like an unfortunate accident from Picture Day. Because in person, he looked... not as stupid.

Going back to a public school was strange. You hadn't gone since you were a child, the rest of your education mixed in with the martial arts training you had to take. There were so many people, but at least they were ignoring you for the most part. The main problem was finding out where the hell B104 was.

"Um, are you lost?"

A girl with curly hair and a sketchbook to her side had a locker open next to you. You glanced at her putting books away and taking things out before responding.

"Yeah, I don't know where this is?"

She looked at your schedule, nodding as she shut her locker.

"Yeah. That's the basement. There's one science class down there," she explained. "I'll go with you; I have something there, too."

You thanked her as you both walked through the crowded hallways. She occasionally nudged people aside, giving absolutely no shits to the people standing in the way. Natasha would like her. When you accidentally mentioned it in a quiet mumble, she laughed. She claimed that if she ever met Black Widow, "it'll be over for all you bitches." You didn't doubt it. You both went down a floor and she led you to the room.

"I have to go a bit further down, but..." she quickly pulled out a pen and wrote down your room numbers on her wrist. "I have some classes close to these, so I can bring you there for the first half of the day before lunch. I'll see you after class?"

"Uh, sure?"

"My name's Michelle."

"I'm (Y/N)."

She stuck her hand out in a way that you became extremely uncomfortable with, not used to shaking hands. She seemed to notice your hesitation then held it up for a high five. You gave a small smile of gratitude and gave her one.

"I'm sorry, that's so awkward. Um, if you stick with me, I'll teach you the secrets of this school. Okay, there aren't really any, but you really look like more of a loner than I do."

You nodded awkwardly in response and turned to walk into your class without another word.

Michelle had about three of her classes with you, and you shared 4 with Peter Parker, two of which were before lunch. She walked you to the table she usually sat at, a relaxed gait to talk to you comfortably.

"Everyone kind of adopts their own spot in the cafeteria at some point. Those tables are usually empty, and that's where I sit. I have a feeling you're going to be spending your time there too."

You spotted Peter, who waved at you. Confused, you waved back, then Michelle voiced an excited greeting. You put your hand down after pretending to scratch your head.

"This is Peter and Ned. They're in some of your classes."

"Oh, you're the kid who broke one of the beakers today, right? Man, that's so weird. How did you manage that?" Ned recalled.

You weren't about to tell him that you hadn't broken it at all. It was sitting on one of the heating plates and you were trying to put it away, but it fell as you'd tried to catch it with your sticky gecko hands. It didn't work.

"I have super strength," you deadpanned.

The three laughed, somehow. You hadn't interacted with such a close friend group like this ever. Peter was an awkward teen just like the others, and you wondered how difficult it must have been for him to adjust to his powers in the middle of his schooling. If anyone noticed you staring at him, they didn't mention it.

———

You did not tell Peter that he was just your job.

He was completely oblivious to your role in his life and laughably terrible at hiding his secret. You once caught him pick up an entire row of lockers with one hand in between classes. He picked up a bottle that looked like it held arsenic and placed the lockers back down. The sunlight streaming in from a nearby classroom's glass window made you realise that this boy had no regard for his surroundings. He was incredibly stupid. You really had to tell him soon.

He'd visited the tower a few more times, and you'd sometimes see him practice with your sister. She'd look up at you in the doorway of the training room and glare at you, as if telling you that she was doing your job. You walked away before he saw you every time. Instead, you followed him around when he was Spider-Man, choosing when you wanted him to know you were there and when you didn't. You'd learned that from Natasha. He'd tried to get your attention a few times, knowing you were there, but you slipped out of sight every time.

Michelle started to ask you to call her MJ. Ned showed you pictures of the Death Star he and Peter built together. It suffered destruction twice in the past, but it was perfect now and sitting on display in Ned's home. Peter offhandedly mentioned that Tony Stark wanted to display it at the tower. Ned was all for it, and you wanted to hit your head on a wall. Peter consistently confirmed his parent-child relationship with Stark without realising it. It was a bit infuriating for everyone else who could see it.

Peter had started to become more awkward around you. He'd been more comfortable over time, but one day he just started to get fidgety and stammered a lot. It only happened when he spoke to you. You were aware that you were probably one of the very few people that he felt any romantic attraction to, and he probably felt like you were his only option. Unsurprisingly, you felt the same way. It sucked having only a few friends.

At some point the secret had to come out. You were just standing in the kitchen, opening the fridge for the second time like it would suddenly become interesting, and jumped once you closed it.

"Oh my god, Peter," you huffed.

"(Y/N)? What are you doing here?"

Your eyes darted to Natasha for help. Peter followed your line of sight to her. She shrugged and hauled her duffel bag further up her shoulders.

"I have a mission. I'll only be gone less than a week. Get groceries."

The elevator arrived in seconds and she went up, likely to the helipad. You both stood there in silence for a moment.

"That's my sister," you admitted.

"Hold on, so you're telling me the person I met sticking to a window was you? The new, awkward kid at my high school?"

"You're awkward too."

Peter began too look a bit uncomfortable just standing in front of you in plain view, like he was suddenly aware of how open he was.

"You were the one following me around the city too. When I'm Spider-Man."

You nodded, gesturing to the living room so you could both take a seat. He was quiet as you went to your room, coming back out with the flash drive you had on him.

"Stark wanted someone to watch you, and he doesn't have many younger options. Then Nick Fury apparently wanted to keep an eye on you, so it all worked out. Natasha talked to him about having me join, and you were supposed to be my mission."

"Then why didn't you tell me? Are we... friends?"

"Yes!"

Peter looked away from you and looked out the window, the same one you both climbed into a while ago. He looked down at the flash drive, his teeth biting his bottom lip. You slowly sat down next to him, being sure to keep some distance away.

"I just didn't know how to tell you. Stark said that I would have been fine if you didn't know who exactly was watching you. I didn't expect to become your friend."

He put the flash drive in between the two of you, sliding it back over. You looked at it, your stomach doing turns knowing that you never would have hurt him if you said something earlier.

"My sister's been training you because I couldn't. I've learned a lot from her, but I've traveled more than she has. And I can adjust my powers to be more like yours. If you'd still want me around, I can teach you more."

Peter stood up, holding his hand out like he was going to shake your hand. You followed suit, holding your hand up for a high five. You both switched your hand positions, then settled for a fist bump that wasn't quite coordinated.

"I know we're both a bit awkward and we don't know how to talk to people normally, but I don't think I'd ever give you up. I'd like to be more than a mission to you."

"Like a friend?"

"Whatever you want."

———

It was easier to be with Peter in the tower. You realised how little you actually know about the building, and the next few days were spent with the both of you walking to the subway together and taking it to where you lived. He always brought you up to Stark's personal floor, to both his and Stark's labs, then to the R&D floors that you stopped exploring ever since your interaction with Tony Stark. He showed you what people were working on if they allowed you both in, and you'd watch him work on projects when he figured he'd procrastinated long enough. Sometimes MJ and Ned would tag along because apparently both you and Peter vouching for them was enough for security to let them through. Of course you had MJ meet your sister. It was a terrifying experience.

You spent weeks training Peter, watching him crawl up walls and do flips with more grace than you ever could and learning from him, but also taking him down much faster than he could ever take down anyone else. He was resilient but needed the training that both you and your sister provided. And even if your sister had been doing this longer than you had, you had abilities she didn't that could match and counter Spider-Man's.

Somehow Peter got even more awkward. He was clumsy, and was only lucky he didn't break things (or his own body parts) because of his powers. You didn't really want to tell him that you knew why. If you didn't have your own response to how he felt about you, he'd think that you were rejecting him. Though conflicted, MJ decided to make that decision for you.

"Ned, wanna come with me to see Ms. Romanov while she's training?" MJ asked, slinging her sweater over her shoulder.

"Uh, I don't really-"

"We have lovebirds to leave alone. Come on."

Ned looked a little torn, considering he had either the option of staying and not letting his two friends talk alone for once or leaving and being constantly terrified of a woman and a teenage girl for hours. You felt he made the worse choice, as he followed MJ. Fool.

"Did you just call Ned a fool?" Peter laughed.

You put your hand over your mouth, but laughed with him anyway. You were both sitting on the same sofa that led to Peter finding out that he was a part of your job. His hand reached yours, putting it on top of where they rested on your lap. He pulled it towards him and held it like romantic couples usually do, with fingers crossed together. It took some struggle because you both moved your hands the same way. Once again, you shared a laugh, though this one was more strained and uncomfortable.

"You like me, Peter," you said, not an ounce of doubt in your words. "I've known behaviour long enough to know. And I like you too, but I'm scared that it's because you're the first friend I've had that wasn't my sister."

"I was supposed to say it first," he pouted. "I had those two leave on purpose!"

You laughed and lightly squeezed his hand.

"I mean, what's life if we're not going to take risks?" he continued. "You decided to go to public school after years of not making friends, and I went on a school trip, got bitten by a spider, and decided not to tell anyone. If it doesn't work out, we can still be friends, right?"

"Nat would force me to stick around you as part of the job. Keeping you around as a friend is just a plus."

"Well, don't think that I'm letting you off the hook for telling me how you feel first. I'm holding you to this." Peter pointed a finger menacingly at you, which you pushed away.

"Sorry for stealing your thunder. And speaking of thunder, Thor's coming in a few hours. You wanna hide his food and blame it on Barton?"

"Hell yeah."

#x male reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #peter parker imagine #male reader #male reader insert #peter parker #request

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