#in fact i have another fic for it tmrw!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hoshigray · 9 months

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Been thinking about this scenario a lot, but ex-husband! Toji, where you two are pretty chill with each other, even after five years of divorce. But the feelings between you two start to parade back after all these years, and it all comes boiling over after spending one night together.

A/n: Been a while since I've done one of these scenario thingies, plus this idea has been rotting my mind for a long time, and I needed it to get out, lol. I pushed back my Gojo fic to tmrw or Thursday because my brain was not feeling like re-reading 3-4k words while running on one hour of sleep. So, instead, we're dropping this in its stead. Sorry about that, and hope you like this while I fix the fic up later today :) Any grammar/spelling errors on this will be dealt with tmrw.

Cw: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - implied that reader is entering their mid 30s - starts out cute the first half but smutty the next, so minors DNI - implied that Tsumiki and Megumi are around middle school age; 12 (T) and 11 (M) - pining; Toji is whipped for you, I fear - Daddy kink - prone bone position + mating press - pet names (baby, sweetheart, sweetie, mama, princess) - cervix fucking - praise - itty-bitty-tiny overstimulation - closure; happy ending (?).

Wc: 3.4k (wow, way longer than the last one, lol)

Ex-husband! Toji...

...who you've divorced after being together for four years. It was a marriage built on love, convenience, and heartache. There is no denying that Toji loved you very much; if anything, the man would set the world ablaze if anything were to happen to you. Especially when you were the sweetest thing that blessed his presence and his two children who were young at the time — Tsumiki and Megumi at age three. The fact that you loved him as much as he loved you is beyond doubt in Toji's mind. However, somewhere down the line, you felt a "shadow" that you could not surpass nor fill — the late wife of Toji.

You could tell that Toji still had a piece of him that just couldn't let the memory of his late wife go, and you understood that. Hence why you chose to leave him, which was glum for all parties, but Toji understood where you were coming from and signed the papers.

...who's still chill with you after the divorce. You two promised not to act like complete strangers, especially with Tsumiki and Megumi being close to you. Just because the ring isn't on your finger doesn't mean you must change completely. The two of you are comfortable enough to be in each other's company, taking turns watching over the kids and acting like you're still married by poking fun at one another like the good days.

"Hey, big guy," Toji turns to the kitchen hallway where you're looking at him, his usual black coffee in his mug still sheltered in your apartment cupboards. "You look like shit; too tired to go to the clubs to find some minx to wow you enough like you used to?"

He snickers at your brazenness. "Shut up, brat. I could ask the same fr' you. Got some good dick on the side to help that attitude of yours, baby?" After checking around to see if the kids are nearby, you give him the middle finger. He chuckles before sipping his coffee.

...whose kids adore and love you so much that they secretly try to have you and Toji in the same place, which the two of you are entirely aware of. Five years passed after your separation, though that doesn't hinder the children from wanting you back in their lives again. Because to them, you are always a Fushiguro, and the love for you will always be there. It's there when you go to Tsumiki's soccer games and drag your ex-husband to find a better seat on the bleachers to watch her play. It's there when Megumi tells his father he "accidentally" left his baseball bat at your place and "unfortunately" now has to spend the night there (and you always receive them). And it's there when you promise to come along on family trips, like going to the zoo and taking pictures by the Panda enclosure with his daughter or going to the aquarium and listening intently to his son explain all the different types of jellyfish.

Toji can't blame his own kin for being attached to you because you are still a mother in their eyes. And so to his.

...who has his wedding ring on his dog-tag necklace but always tucks it under his shirt whenever you're present. It gives him a peace of mind when it comes to you because if he can't be there for you 24/7, he knows you're under his protection whenever you need it. But the thought of you knowing he still wears it makes him anxious, worried that you'll take it the wrong way and request he never wears it again. So, for his sake, he keeps you blind to this secret. And he wonders if you ever wear yours...

...who welcomes you without hesitation when you have to spend the night at his place because he notices you're too exhausted to go home so late. The only problem is that there's no other room outside the kids and Toji's. And as much you protest, expressing your satisfaction with taking the couch, your ex-husband disagrees and will carry you to bed, sneering to himself as you try to wiggle out of his stronghold until he smacks the bedroom door closed with his leg.

"I told you I was fine sleeping on the couch, Toji." You complain to him, yet your back is pressed against his chest with his arm around your waist.

"And I told you not gonna happen, princess." his hold around you gets tighter, pulling you closer for him to rest his chin on your shoulder. "You'd probably fall off and smack that pretty face of y'rs on the floor."

"I would not—You know what," you stooped from saying anything further to the man grinning behind your ear. You shift a bit to make yourself comfortable. "Goodnight, Toji. And thank you."

It takes every fiber in his being to not kiss your cheek then and there. Exhaling softly through his nostrils as he lays his head back on the pillow. "No problem, sweetheart."

...who the last time he had someone after your separation was not feeling it at all. You even said he is free to do whatever he wants when moving on to the next minx that caught his attention. You two are adults and shouldn't feel entitled to putting each other on a leash. Despite that, he knew moving on from you wouldn't be easy — especially in the bedroom.

The women he's had after you can only be counted on one hand. No matter how good the fun was with the others, his mind would always crawl back to you. It didn't matter how different their hair was, what they dressed that night, or how fucking good the sex was; you would cloud his mind in some way. They weren't you. They weren't his sweet thing.

...who's extremely perplexed in a nightclub when he sees you. He didn't want to go in the first place until Satoru Gojo barged into his apartment, dragged him out in his best attire, and left Nanami (another victim of Gojo's foolishness) to babysit Megumi and Tsumiki. And it was bad enough that Gojo snaked away from Toji to the dance floor the second they got inside, the raven-haired man almost popping a vein in vexation.

So the older man resorts to just doing the usual gig: walking around before sitting at the bar to ask for a regular beer. He stays there for nearly half an hour, taking sips of his bottle while sweet-talking to the ladies that occasionally find him and give him his number. Things got really loud when the DJ at the discothèque played "Up!" by Lil Vada and DonnySolo, all the party people crowding the floor, bumping and grinding each other while singing the lyrics. It was at this point that Toji had enough of the massive headache growing in his head, so he was about to down his beer and leave the club; Gojo be damned because the fucker could find his own way home and then some.

But midway through putting the beer bottle on his scarred lips, something in Toji's peripheral captures his attention. And his jade eyes go wide at what he sees.

Down to the right side of the dance floor are booths catered to bigger parties, so it's obvious to notice when a single person sits alone on one of the round tables while everyone else is dancing their hearts out. That one person was you, observing the dance floor with your head on your hand resting on the table.

To say that Toji was flabbergasted by the image of you in a place like this after all these years was tough for him to comprehend. Yet what really had him in a chokehold was how stunning you were. From where he stood, he could tell that you dolled yourself quite a bit. Your hair was kept in a style that displayed your face wholly, and you were wearing a beautiful halter-neck dress with slits revealing your thighs deliciously.

He forgets how to breathe when your eyes drift in his direction and find him. You're just as surprised as he is for a short moment, but you offer him a familiar smile and beckon him to come to your side of the club. The older man wastes no time, paying the bartender and making his way through the crowd to your table. When he's close enough, he can tell that your dress is backless, exposing your smooth skin that calls for him to touch.

And when Toji notices the ring on your left hand — the old wedding ring he gifted you — the world around him comes to a complete standstill.

"Hey, big guy." He snaps back to look at your beautiful face, your smile still there to blind him, and the booth far from the dance floor and music so he can listen to your sweet voice. You move to the side to make room for him to sit. "Didn't think I'd find you here."

"Me neither." He admits to you as he takes a seat, his green orbs never leaving your figure. "What are you doin' here?"

"Some friends dragged me out here for one of their birthdays. I figured I'd be here for a few hours and loosen up a bit, you know? But I don't know, I guess I'm just so used to being at my place that I'm out of practice with clubs."

Toji nods at your answer. "Yeah, I was dragged here, too. I'm with—"

"Gojo? Yeah, I thought so. He's right there dancing with my friends." He pans around to the dance floor to see commotion at the center. The snow-haired man was dancing as a crowd formed around him, getting grinded on by a woman with a "happy birthday" headband.

Gojo notices the raven-headed man staring his way, pulls down his shades, and winks. That's when the reason why Toji was brought here in the first place hits him. Gojo knew you would be here tonight because of your friend's birthday. And now that you two are sitting alone, the wink signaled Toji to make his move.

"....Wanna get the hell outta here?"

You giggle at his suggestion. "Yeah, I don't feel like watching my friends get pregnant on the dance floor."

Toji snickers and grabs your hand to lead you out of the booth. He then drapes his denim jacket over your shoulders to cover your exposed shoulders and back, and the two of you leave the club without anyone noticing a thing.

...who spends the rest of the night with you as if you two are on a date again. It's late, so many shops around the area are closed already, but that doesn't stop the two of you from having fun. From sharing a meal at a nearby diner, walking around a shopping plaza admiring the silent ambiance, and listening to old tunes in his car as you two share stuff about your day while holding hands. And the change of mood completely baffles Toji. Nevertheless, when he sees the smile on your face and hears the sweet tune of your laughter, the grasp on your hand gets tighter with every minute. All his intentions go into enjoying having you with him like this again.

...who stays by your side until he has to drop you off at your place, parked his car to walk you to your apartment door. It's 1 o'clock in the morning, way later than Toji ever intended to stay out. Not that it matters now, because it's all worth it being able to walk with you. He doesn't let go of your hand even when his heart dies a little when you two arrive at your door.

"Had a good time?" You ask while unlocking the door; your eyes showcase subtle exhaustion but are overshadowed by your smile.

"Sure as hell did since I saw you at the club." He confesses, your chuckles casting a spell on him.

"Hmm, I'm glad you were there too, Toji." You meant those words, your eyes gazing into his, and the man's plunged deep into your gorgeous orbs. A feeling that he now realizes he wants to be the only one experiencing with you.

An awkward silence for a few seconds prompts you to snatch your hand away from his, causing his stomach to drop. "Sorry, your jacket" is what you use to excuse yourself, moving to take off the denim jacket. But Toji stops you, his hands stationed on your shoulders to keep you still.

"No, it's cold, sweetie." His voice is hushed, only for you to hear. "You can give it back next time."

Silence comes back again, but the air is heavier this time. The awkwardness is replaced with something more solicitous, more affectionate. You notice it when Toji has yet removed his hands from your shoulders, his large palms warming you up to the touch.

"Toji—"

"It's alright, baby." His gruff tone is still a whisper, and butterflies flutter in your stomach. "I won't do anythin'."

"No, no," you don't know what came over you, but you place your hands on his chest. Then your finger touches something from underneath his turtleneck, having you pull his collar down to pull out the dog-tag necklace that still harbors his old wedding ring. Toji's blood shifts to ice cold when you see the accessory — his anxiousness spikes up to an all-time high, only mere seconds from combusting based on whatever your response will be. And it comes.

"I...I want you to do something, Toji." It felt strange saying those words with your shaky confidence, though it's what you wished to express. "I want you..."

And just like that, whatever restraint that the older man had for you was butchered away. Emerald eyes take in every feature of your anticipating expression, and his lips come crashing down on yours.

...who couldn't care less how late it is right now because he finally has you where he wants you after all these years. It's 2:30 in the morning, way too late for loud noises as they'll disrupt the neighbors next door. But, again, Toji doesn't care about that. When he finally has you lying under him on your stomach, screaming out his name while he drives his cock deep inside you, what is there to care about?

The two of you are in the prone bone position, where you lie flat on your belly on the cream-white satin sheets of your bed, your legs in between Toji's and bare ass out for him to have easy access to your creamy cunt that hugs onto him all so well.

Tears paint your wet and sweaty face, drool escapes from the corner of your mouth and meets the sheets beneath you. The harsh thrusts of Toji's pelvis hitting your ass with such precision have you see stars, and his big hands keep your arms still. All you can hear are the ecstatic cries of your voice and the noises of skin smacking together.

"Nnmph!! Haaaah!! Ahhhh, yesssss, Daddy, just like that," your voice feels strained from all the screaming you've been doing for the past hour. Lips are swollen from the constant biting, your butt stinging from the intense contact with your ex-husband's pelvis. It's hard to think of anything but the man above you and his dick rearranging your slit like his personal toy. You never thought you'd experience this exhilarating and rewarding sensation again. And now that you do, it's all you want to indulge in. "H-Harder, pleaseeee, I want mo—Ahhhnnn!"

Toji grinds his hips down to your ass, churning your insides and grazing your cervix to the point of incoherent babbles. "Mmmm, oooh, shit, fuckin' shit. You're too tight on me, mama." He gives you a sharp thrust when you least expect it, and the walls of your chasm clamping down on his length has him hiss. It's hard to believe you're permitting him to have you like this. It's been five years. Five years of respectful boundaries and keeping a platonic relationship. Five years of denying feelings of want and desire. All those years of heavy guilt suddenly lifted from his shoulders just for him to have you under his bow again, your body quivering and voice shaky because of his touch.

It feels so surreal...But, God, Toji missed this so goddamn much. Missing your eyes, your smile, your touch, your body. Just you. Only you. "Hnnngh!! Damn, you feel so fuckin' good, baby. Can never have enough..."

"Mnnaaaah! Daddy, I'm gonna cummm, I'm gonna—Oooohh!!" The tip of his shaft scrapes the upper walls of your vagina, your brain pounding so hard to the point it hurts. "Pleaseee, let me cum, Daddyyy..."

He can tell you're close and senses your orgasm climbing up with his. That's when the pace of his hips goes erratically fast, jabbing your sweet spots and tender cervix, causing more tears to come down and your peak to finally release for the third time that night. As you cream on his cock, Toji's not too far from his own crescendo. Your velvety walls contract around his member divinely, and the older man spills his load into your quivering figure.

You're allowed to experience the aftershocks of your orgasm as you two let your bodies calm down, Toji laying his chest on your sweaty, heaving back. He then slowly removes his dick from your chasm, and the essence of your unioned sex feels cold while sliding down your inner thighs.

"Haaaaah...Mmmm, thank you, Toji." You whimper out as he lays kisses down your neck and shoulders. "Thank you..."

But little did you know that it wasn't the last of it. Before you could apprehend what was going on, Toji already had you flipped over to your back, stationing your legs on his shoulders to a mating press. And you see that his cock is not limp yet...

W-Wait a damn second—

"T-Toji, wait, hold on!" You try to rationalize with the man who aligns his shaft to your gushing vulva, and your sweat runs cold. "It's getting late. I just came three times already! We should—Nmmmph!!"

The head of his cock slides right in thanks to the slick and come lubricating your opening. Adding his weight onto you as he pushes his length deep into your chasm again, you cry choked sobs when he meets your cervix again, and his pelvis rubs against your clitoris. "Sorry, mama. Just lemme finish here, 'kay? Daddy missed havin' you like this, so I wanna give you all of me while I still can."

...who has your fatigued self lying on his chest, rubbing circles on your back and placing soft kisses on your forehead as you feel the effects of sleep slowly creep up on you. The lights are now off, the moonlight bargaining from the curtains being the only light source as you two are ready to gather whatever amount of sleep you can get.

"Hey, baby." But before that, Toji wants your attention for the last time before you sleep.

"Mhmm?" Your eyes are closed, but your ears are still open to listen.

His eyes drift down to the left hand that lays motionless on his chest. The gem on the ring flashes softly for it to be distinguishable. "How come you were wearin' your ring at the club?"

A few seconds go by before you give him the honest truth. "Same reason you wear yours. I always wear it when going out somewhere or alone someplace. Gives people the idea that I'm not ready for anyone else."

"Then why not wear it when I'm around?"

You giggle breathlessly. "Same reason why you don't let me see yours. I don't need a ring when I have you with me. A ring doesn't compare to my big man who will love and protect me wherever we go."

And Toji doesn't ask anything else after that. He lets you fall asleep in his arms and listens to your breathing follow a melodic rhythm. Your words stick with him even when his eyes close, and he soon falls into a deep sleep.

It's far-fetched to think that you two will be married again. Maybe it's possible in his dreams, but not in the real world. Regardless, Toji knows he will always stand beside you and be there for you. With or without a ring that's merely evidence of your love to outsiders. He knows you love him, and that's all he needs to keep moving. And if he could have you as his wife again, he'd sweep you off your feet in a heartbeat.

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 6 months

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hey ari!!! hope ur doing super well <33 i dropped by to ask u a few things…….

let me know whenever u find the time to read my gojo fic… i made a few revisions over time and i’d rlly love to hear ur thoughts o valued gojo lover ;; its become very important to me , but no pressure :33

AND. need ur most brainrotting thoughts about sashishu por favor. for. research. yeah… research 🙇‍♂️

riko !!!! i hope ur doing super super well urself, im doing just fine <33 trying to finish this fic im writing so i can (hopefully) post it today pshjdh BUT its going good so far !!

i know i alr said it but !! i am so so excited to read ur gojo fic !! if i dont have time today then i will tmrw 🙏🙏 cant wait to rb it w a huge rant i took a lil peek at it n i can already tell its gonna be so good….

AND RIKO. tysm i appreciate u like no other, ive been waiting for a chance to rant abt my Absolute Beloveds……… this might get long im sorry but sashisu make me. genuinely insane

OK SO. just generally speaking…… to me, the biggest sashisu appeal is just. how grounded they are. to me. i feel like both jjk trios are very realistic but in different ways!!

like. the 2018 trio are just !! good friends and they care for each other and they have fun together. AND most importantly; they can be open w each other !! like all three of them are a lillll closed off and obviously traumatized but they can still be sincere with one another. yuji talks openly w both megumi and nobara, megumi’s whole arc revolves around him getting comfortable with the idea of leaning on others and being saved by others, and nobara’s whole character hinges on her just being unabashedly herself.

AND I LOVE THEM i really do but sashisu r just so….. different and also similar and they feel so real to me even though theyre all insane in the head.

because contrary to the 2018 trio, theyre all sort of. Cunts pshjdhd. LIKE. high school satoru is a brat and he thinks he can make friends by being a bully and hes kind despite that but hes also sooo infuriating, and suguru acts like hes better but hes rly not. theyre both assholes. same w shoko!! shes literally out here casually underage smoking and all three of them get in trouble n then blame it on each other n its just…. theyre just so fun. they bully each other but u can TELL theres love there.

and the greatest difference between the 2018 and 2006trio is that the former can be open with each other, but the latter cant. sashisu are doomed as a trio because theyre all so closed off and traumatized and repressed and they will never be as sincere with each other as yuji/megumi/nobara are.

and to me, thats the main reason why suguru defects !! not that its their fault, but the fact that they didnt notice — or maybe the fact that they DID notice but didnt know how to broach the subject — is the one factor that makes his defection almost unavoidable to me. because his best friends, his most loved people, were never the type to be vulnerable like that. and neither was he !!

theyre just so DOOMED riko….. suguru couldnt open his heart to satoru or shoko, satoru didnt notice suguru’s silence bc he was too busy making himself strong enough to protect them, and we dont know how shoko felt but she obviously didnt do anything even if she did notice smth was off. neither of them saw how much suguru was suffering, and suguru was extremely depressed and isolated and never once gave them the chance to help him.

the three of them just werent the type to have heartfelt conversations in the same way the other trio does, and i think sashisu just… figured they didnt need to. that they had that bond together and that it would always be enough. bc all three of them have these incredible powers that make them isolated and kind of miserable, but they were able to be kids only when they were together. during that one year, they got to feel that slice of normalcy and genuine friendship.

and then they lost it !! and shoko and satoru both regret it !!! and they were never able to hate suguru, and he was never able to hate them, even at the very end !!! and the thing that always breaks me is that its just so, so evident that they all loved each other. but it wasnt enough !! and i think thats such a …. grounded and real depiction of how it can be to love someone who’s ill, or traumatized, while you yourself are ill or traumatized. and you might love each other, and it might still not be enough. but the fact that the love was there still matters.

they were three child soldiers who only found comfort in each other, and they all crumbled under the weight of the world but even at the very end they still loved each other.

and for sashisu, that love never disappeared — both shoko and satoru became more responsible after suguru left, and together theyre able to protect so many of the students and their coworkers. and theyre still traumatized and arguably even MORE repressed but the two of them still stick together, and theres a comfort in knowing theyll always have that. (im ignoring the current manga arc its not canon to me idc)

THIS IS ALREADY SO LOONNGG i just. i ADORE them. theyre so good. but !! if we’re moving past just general analysis of them then !! i love to think abt…. sashisu x reader……. maybe one day ill finish my sss x reader series psjdjdj but !!!

i just think itd be such a fun n comfortable dynamic ?? bc they all complete each other in a way…. satoru is just kinda hyper n cuddly n sweet, n suguru is calm and teasing n warm…. and shoko is so chill but also so caring and . i Need them. all of them r so gorgeous i would fall to my knees and cry if i just saw them relaxing by the couch.

i feel like a reader dynamic w them would just be the four of u living together and spending the rest of ur lives doing the same things u did in high school….. going to karaoke n getting in trouble and eating food . etc etc. maybe getting a couple cats…. and a bunch of plants that would all die if it werent for suguru pshjdjs.

in conclusion they make me feel ill <3

(also riko…. pls read the pink lighter by nosferatui, its a sashisu fix-it time travel fic and its one of my favorites ever !! i still havent finished it but its complete and it genuinely changed my life the writing is so good it hurts)

#in my defense u brought this rant on urself riko………#hhhhhh they mean sm to meeeee #i rly hope akutami can squeeze out just one more tender sashisu moment….. for me specifically……..#if u have any sashisu thoughts i would loovveee to hear them riko !!! or anyone else for that matter !!!!! they r my specialest lil guys #sashisu #ask tag ✩

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vennussy · 2 years

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Ronance Fic Idea #2: Single Mom Nancy x Soccer Coach To Her Child Robin AU

hi welcome to another episode of its currently 1am and venny is self projecting, in today's episode we have the second part to my ronance ideas yipee!! here's the link to the first part [tw: mentions of torture and murder there] and sit back and relax since this one is more wholesome 🥰

edit: i started this at 2am and finished at 3:30am so pls beware there will be mistakes and i'll reread it tmrw when im not dying. im sorry who has to suffer through this now tho, may the lesbian goddesses be with you

set in a modern-ish time (I'm still not sure when this fic would take place in but definitely not the 80s) with no upsidedown or anything like that, and because of this nancy doesn't end up with jonathan.

nancy and steve were young and experimenting when steve accidentally gets nancy pregnant at 17. nancy's dad doesnt allow her to abort and practically disowns her while karen, the sweet angel she is, helps nancy with little max so she can learn how to take care of a child while still being able to go to school.

at some point steve and nancy breaks up mutually due to the fact they started to fall out of love and that raising max wasn't making their collapsing relationship better. but to this day, steve still stays in hawkins, working multiple jobs to send money to nancy for max's welfare and college. (ik he was an ass in s1 but idc, i want him to be a good dad)

after nancy finishes her college (let's say she doesnt go to emerson but another high level college in indiana), a year later, nancy gets a job and boston where her and max officially move to at the age of 23 for nancy and 6 for max.

HERE COMES THE SELF PROJECTING WOO!!

since nancy was practically away all the time due to her studies, she didnt really got to raise max that well and have a distant relationship with her. after they move to boston, nancy tries to fix her ralationship with max. and though max loves her and understands why she practically wasnt there for half of her life, she just doesn't know her own mother that well anymore, so she distance herself and nancy having a family who are also distant, didnt know what to do.

(i am totally not self projecting my own mother's neglection when i was younger only for her to try harder around my peak teen years and being absolutely successful bcs i love my mom so much and she's still trying her best)

ANYWAYS !! who else to save their relationship than Robin "I Will Love Someone And I Will Show It In Every Way" Buckley!!!

nancy is 31 now and is the chief editor for the popular boston bugle papers (hehe fallout 4 reference), whereas max is 14, starting her first year in highschool. they're relationship is still a bit strained but if not improving little by little until one day max comes home eagerly and tells nancy about a new friend she met in school that asked her to join the soccer team after seeing her kick the ball during her gym class (said friend was jane hopper). nancy was nothing but supportive of the idea and asked her how she could join.

apparently for freshmen newcomers, they have to go to this initiation with a parent or guardian just to get direct permission for their child but if not then a signed form is plausible. ofc nancy chooses the former option wanting to watch her daughter play in a school team for the first time as she was interested in sports like softball, volleyball, basketball and skateboarding but never commiting to it through a school team until now.

SO INITIATION DAY COMES !!!

nancy is sitting along the outside bleachers just people watching and looking at max with jane and all that shit when the presentation comes and the official gym teacher introducing herself. thats when the most beautiful woman comes in looking distressed and interrupts her during her introduction to the parents and children. nancy finds out that the woman was the soccer coach who only part-times as a coach for the school soccer team. robin buckley.

obv robin looked distress bcs her ass woke up late and was almost late to the intiation.

now the pining insues, nancy practically staring at robin the whole intiation and only looking away once in a while to watch her daughter beat the shit out of everyone else in the team along with her new friend like holy shit bro.

during the intiation she meets a nice woman named joyce where nancy can finally be friends with and tells nance that she's actually the mother of max's new friend. and yadda yadda plot plot.

SO thats the most of it now on to the little fun facts of the story !!

max is ginger bcs karen's parents and her are ginger but she dyes her hair blonde so dont be confused

steve is practically besties with nancy now and has the same distant relationship problems with max too, but she still loves him

"mom, why is my second name mayfield?" "bcs you decided that you wanted me to have a miserable time while i was out on the field with your dad and left my stomach. it was may at the time too" "oh-"

nancy has dated people in the past but none of them stayed that long due to nancy's distant personality and max's evil gremlin one

max def got her sarcasm from nance. who else? steve? yeah no.

robin is 28 in the fic and is not the sweet innocent robin we know 🥺 i mean she is still sweet and caring but not so innocent if u know what i mea- *gunshot*

joyce was very sweet at learning that max was a teen pregnancy and even often invites her and nancy for dinner

nancy meets jonathan and they become friends

fun fact will was there for el's intiation bcs he could never miss a soccer game for el as el could never miss any of will's award night for his paintings!!

robin and max get along well through soccer AND their sarcasm towards the boys

nancy is unlabled and doesnt care who she dates as long she likes them and can love max too

nancy teaches max all of about sexuality and gender respectfully thats why max is so open minded

nancy doesnt fall for robin at first sight, she was mostly intrigued and attracted to her but the more they talk the more she fell for her

gonna uni reverse this shit and say nancy fell first but robin fell harder

robin part times as a soccer coach and full time as a barista in a coffee shop

thats how they officially met

robin is new to boston, she only moved a few months ago from france, her parents are american tho

max loves hearing robin's adventures while traveling around europe

robin is very physical and bcs of this, she teaches nancy (indirectly ofc) how to express love through simple gestures and she starts doing this to max

when max was hugged tightly for the first time than what she can remember from nancy, she freezes and nancy thinks she made a mistake before max hugs back

max soon realizes that she loves physical affection

robin calls nancy the sweetest things and tells her that a compliment, even small, to max wont hurt

"hey max?" "yeah?" "good job during the game today, im proud of you" "........*sobs*" "MAX?!"

safe to say max and nancy's relationship started to heal and they often even joke around now, something they almost never do due to nancy's reserve personality and max's distant one

"mom pls tell me you weren't looking at coach buckley's ass today" "okay fine i wont!" "...." "*whispering* i do it everyday-" "MOM PLEASE"

robin then shows nancy the beauty of quality time love language, something nancy lacked with max

anyways thats all for now, i hope yall know i started writing this at 2am and its now 3:39am

I HAD FUN THO!!! this one was a woozy to write but i hope yall enjoyed it, maybe i will write a fic of this since i loved it sm

we'll see 👀👀

#this one's a long one #enjoy tho :)#stranger things #ronance #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #nancy x robin #robin x nancy #wlw #fanfics

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chrisevansdaughter · 1 year

Note

Hi bubs!! I know I haven't been on much (and that's mostly bc I'm going back to classes on Monday so I've been spending time with my family and I can't be on tumblr while sitting next to my mom) but I'm so sorry to hear that you're still sick! Like hun, it's been like 3 straight weeks of you being sick and now you're coughing up blood? I'd listen to that anon bc it really seems like they know what they're talking about (coming from a person that has avoided the hell out of bio bc it's icky)

But I have good(?) news, I'm finally making headway on that request you sent me forever ago. Idk when it'll be out bc tmrw I'm probably gonna have to finish the homework I never finished before my break, and I'm not feeling 100%, but it's mostly just a headache (but my brother and dad are sick and mom my spent like the entire break sick which is only made worse bc of the fact that she's pretty much allergic to all cold and flu meds, my family is so much fun) and I have exams in 2 and a half weeks, so I'm gonna be studying like crazy. But I swear, in there at some point, I will finish this request bc I'm actually super duper excited for it. So excited, in fact, that I had to rewrite half of it bc the traumatic mission I sent Y/N on was gonna give me nightmares irl, and I'm not super sure about the trauma I'm going with so it might be getting another rewrite

I hope I distracted you from everything a little bit, and I'm sending a lot of love your way hun❤️❤️

(And love from Chris and Dodger too)

Hey love! Don’t worry about it, life comes first sometimes.

Yeah I’m still sick after 3 weeks and I coughed up more blood, so I can see myself going to the med centre on base because I’m going to be in dusty workshops and engine rooms, but I doubt they’ll be able to do much.

Bubs you need to hydrate and rest that’s what’s good for headaches because that’s what they crave basically, I need to sleep tbh but coughing and sleep aren’t friends. Also I’m sorry your family has all got the flu too it’s like the worst time for it!

But whenever that fic comes out there is no rush I’m still going to be excited, school work comes first my love I’m super excited to see it too and very proud of you!

This did distract me alot because I’m just done and tired because of how much I’m coughing because it’s worst at night and my throat is sore from coughing that i sound like my voice needs to drop - I’m sending all the love and hugs right back your way!

And love from bean too!

#chrisevansdaughter #chris evans #chris evans daughter #chrisevansdaughter loves 💖❤️#chrisevansdaughter speaks 🫶🏻#chrisevansdaughter online 💖#chrisevansdaughter moots

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falconcoast · 1 year

Note

hey grace, happy new year! its been a while, how have you been? i managed to catch up with your works now after some months off tumblr and they're all amazing as always :) my fav ones are the holidays fics, best time of the year fr

i hope you have an amazing 2023💐(and also COVE LOVERS YESS my boy deserves recognition)

🇧🇷anon

hi nonnie !!

i’m doing pretty alright except for the fact that my physics test is tmrw 💀 but other than that it’s going well !! winter formal is on Sunday for me so i’m super excited :)

thank you for the compliment!! i hope everything is good on your end too :)

COVE MY BELOVED OCEAN BOY !! glad to see another cove lover here :)

#grace talks

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1kook · 4 years

Text

netflix & chill

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality. warnings grinding, 2 seconds of sub kook, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla but [ passionate ], unprotected sex, dirty talk tags use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc wc 10.2k !! wow!!

will I ever write a serious jk fic? NO. this entire thing was based off this pic of jungkook which i’ve said before that i would print out in sepia filter and crumple and stuff in a drawer n then tell my kids 35 years from now was a long lost lover i met on a cruise to the bahamas and never saw again ty to mia more @daechwlta for being there during my brief crisis over this fic 🥺

When Namjoon had first not so subtly mentioned the idea of setting you up on a date, it was with a faux air of disinterest that you had masterfully pried the details out of him. Namjoon has a friend, he said, a friend who was kinda sorta attached to his hip. And while Namjoon loved the kid, he also thought this friend could use some social interaction outside of Namjoon.

Now you and Namjoon weren’t exactly the most conventional of friends for him to be proposing blind dates to you at whim. He was your senior at school, your mentor in your scholarship program, an educated man studying for his masters. So when he’d first uttered the words you were immediately on the fence. Sure, the two of you knew each other well and probably got along better than most mentor-mentee pairings among your year, but you doubt Namjoon knew enough of your tastes to offer you up for a blind date.

According to Namjoon, his friend was a kid in the same year as you, making him not so much as a kid as he was your classmate. You brushed it off at first, spewing some bullshit excuse that you’d rather focus on your studies, and how dating was a distraction to your education, as if you hadn’t spent the weekend prior binge watching some Spanish novella while you dutifully ignored your essay.

The second time Namjoon mentions it you agree on the spot. Life on campus could only be interesting for so long, so you might as well make the best of it and go on as many stupid dates as possible.

Namjoon is over the moon.

He tells you he’ll pass your phone number on over to that friend of his—“Jeon Jungkook”—and promises you you won’t regret this because his friend was amazing, really. And for Namjoon to sing his praises for just any underclassmen was unheard of. In fact, besides you, you don’t think Namjoon knows many other students younger than him, and if he did, you hardly doubt he would regard them so highly.

So he gives his friend your number, and so ends your weekly meeting with your mentor. You only realize on the walk back to your dorm that you forgot to ask him about some club at school, the whole goal of this week’s meeting, but by then you don’t really care, the whole conversation fading into the background.

In fact, you forget about the whole ordeal until Friday night rolls around and you’re once again, binge watching another novella on your laptop, when your phone suddenly vibrates.

You were by no means a loser at school, a friendless nobody, but you were also not the outgoing, school-spirited student on the front page of your school’s website, and thus had nearly every app that could produce a notification on your phone muted, every text thread silenced. The only notifications and messages you allowed were from your email and from your roommate, and considering the fact Doyeon was face down in a puddle of her own mid-semester tears right across from you, it was probably your email.

Much to your surprises, it isn’t that “Monday’s Class is CANCELLED” email you were hoping for, but instead some unknown number in a text notification. You roll your eyes, click it open thinking it’s a reminder from some store or from some guy claiming to be from your bank, only to pause at the words written inside the little grey bubble.

hey its jungkook!!! joon gave me your number to I guess ask you on a date soo are you free tmrw night??

The excessive punctuation reminds you a little bit of your kid sister back home and the dorky emails she’ll send you from time to time. It’s with that memory and a smile on your face, that you’re suddenly reminded of what exactly this message is saying. “Oh shit,” you mumble, moving to sit up and reread the text. Doyeon complaining loudly in the background has you reading it twice more before you understand it, and by then there’s a fluttery feeling in your chest.

You were by no means easily swayed by people, but this guy had received praise from Kim Namjoon of all people, so he definitely had some prestige to his name. He doesn’t seem overbearing from this one text he’d sent, but he also didn’t seem completely disinterested.

You try to match his nonchalant energy, letting him know you were in fact free and down to meet him, just to let you know more details.

You won’t lie, there’s a giddy feeling bubbling within you at the prospect of getting all dolled up, hitting the town, pawning a free meal off some unsuspecting college soul, and maybe even hitting it off. It’s been a while since you’ve dated, sue you.

Jeon Jungkook’s response crushes those dreams as well as hurdles you straight into a nightmare.

cool!! was thinking i could cook for us at my place, drink a little wine, maybe Netflix and chill a little bit??

You are blown away by the absolute gall of this man, to butter you up by painting a pretty picture only to reduce you to a mere booty call. The fact he had felt confident enough to say all that within the same sentence blows your mind.

Did this Jeon Jungkook, who you had no idea of what he looked like, who had no idea of what you looked like, seriously just invite you over for some quote unquote Netflix and chill?

Who, in the ever living hell, was this guy who so sleazily invited women over to fuck with no qualms about who they were?

You’re offended that Namjoon would set you up like this, pawn you off to such a greasy friend. But then again, you guess not everyone knows their friends thoroughly, because this Jeon Jungkook flirtatiously inviting your over for some sex sounds nothing like the golden boy Kim Namjoon had raved about earlier this week. You click your phone off, tapping the device against your lips as you ponder how to best rip this jerk to shreds via text.

It’s amidst Doyeon cursing out her statistics teacher that an idea hits you.

Tomorrow was Saturday night, and as far as you knew, you really didn’t have anything else going on for you anyway. You’d take Jeon Jungkook’s offer, let him cook you a free meal and drink some of his wine. He mentioned having his own place, and vaguely you remember Namjoon saying he lived alone, hence his introverted tendencies, so you could slip in and out without doing that walk of shame through a boy’s dorm hall.

Not that there would be anything to feel shameful about. In fact, if you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.

Ha! That would certainly teach the asshole not to use his poor, unsuspecting friends to reel in nice girls like you into one night stands.

You could practically feel the devil horns begging to poke out of your skull, the forked tail wiggling behind you, as you click your phone back on and text Jeon Jungkook a great!! what’s your address :)

——

Saturday morning and afternoon are as boring as they usually are. You do a little homework, and spend thirty minutes filling Doyeon in on your master plan, which she eats up and even gives you some pointers—“and then you can be like, ‘you sick freak, as if I’d let you near this 5-star, Michelin reviewed, Gordon Ramsey approved coochie’ and throw the whole plate at his head!”—before getting ready for your little date at Jeon Jungkook’s.

You try hard to look good, harder than you would have if he hadn’t offended you by reducing you to a booty call, and Doyeon helps. She does your eyebrows all nice and natural, dusts the thinnest shin of liquid highlighter across the high points of your face, the whole shebang until you’re looking like a sexy, glowing goddess. You shimmy into a pretty dress, nothing too fancy nor too casual, and even pull on those strappy sandals you’d bought on sale last winter before blowing a kiss to Doyeon and meeting your Uber downstairs.

You don’t quite remember what the reason behind Jeon Jungkook living in such a swanky neighborhood a few minutes from campus was, if it was from a job you vaguely recall Namjoon mentioning, or if it was just purely hereditary, but his place is nice. It’s a connected townhouse, something you’d expect a newly wed couple to live in and not some douchebag third year.

Worse comes to worse, you get banned from this rich neighborhood after humiliating one of its residents in his own home, not that you’d ever make it big enough to live here anyway.

You’d texted Namjoon sometime that morning to let him know you were meeting his friend, an ominous text with an even more ominous smiley face attached to it. But it seems Namjoon is easily blinded by underclassmen he trusts, if Jeon Jungkook’s assholish feats and your own suspicious behavior is anything to go by, because he texts you back a polite have fun! he’s a little shy, so it might take a while for the ball to start rolling hahahaha.

Shy my ass, you think closing the door of your Uber behind you. You double check the address that had been texted to you, walking up to the neat townhouse and knocking against the polished door.

It’s a little chilly, and you hope finding an Uber is easier later tonight when you make your grand escape. It’s between these thoughts that the door swings open, revealing the most handsome man you’ve ever met.

He’s attractive, disgustingly so, with dark hair and light brown tips to contrast, tickling his cheekbones. His dark eyes are round and imploring as they meet yours, gaze almost innocent and doe like as he takes you in. He’s got this soft, blue turtleneck on, and it looks like it should be a seasonal sweater reserved for the holidays but he pulls it off nicely on this premature spring night. His pretty pink lips move, and it takes you a second to realize he’s talking.

“___?” He says, and his voice is deep, yet soft in its own unique way. You nod, like a stupid bobble head, because your throat constricted the moment this beautiful angel opened the door. “It’s cold outside, come in!” He urges you, out stretching his palm to make sure you don’t trip over the slight step up the door as he brings you into his home.

“Hi,” he exhales when you’re finally inside, standing a little too close to you in his small entryway.

“Hi,” you finally choke out, a little dazed by how handsome he is, and the sudden realization that you’re supposed to throw your glass of wine at him tonight because he’s a douchebag dawns on you. You blink yourself out of your stupor, taking a step back and gesturing towards your sandal clad feet.

“Oh!” Jeon Jungkook exclaims at the sudden realization. “I forgot to set out a pair of slippers for you,” he sheepishly admits, before he excuses himself to go get some. There’s a tiny ottoman pushed against the wall, beneath a long mirror, that you take a seat on it, carefully unstrapping your sandals.

All the while, you’re deep in thought.

It makes sense that someone like Jeon Jungkook was so forward in inviting you over for sex during your first interaction. Realistically speaking, the guy had it all. He lived alone in a swanky townhouse in a wealthy neighborhood (you finally remember Namjoon saying he did some app developing for major companies—yeah, still in college but already making it big because he was that good), and looked like the blueprint for the perfect man, someone who’d impress your parents. On top of that, the man was was a 21st century Adonis. You hadn’t missed the flash of ink on his knuckles, or the way his jeans had hugged his legs.

He’s making his way back now, inspecting the slippers in his hands, and you don’t miss the way the jeans are pulled taut around his thighs in particular.

Yeah, he definitely knew his way around a woman’s body, there was no way he couldn’t have.

You slip your feet into the slippers he places before you, wiggling your toes around, before glancing back at Jungkook. He smiles warmly, a little beauty mark beneath his lip making itself known. He takes your hand, pulls you up onto your feet, and begins guiding you down the hall and to what you assume is the kitchen.

“I didn’t know what you liked, and I figured asking you three hours before you came over would be too awkward,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He glances at you again, and upon seeing your inquisitive stare, quickly turns away with flushed cheeks.

Oh this man knew the game, and he knew it well.

Jeon Jungkook still thinks he can play that cute campus boy being set up by his senior card now, after he’d shown you his true colors last night via text. But he has a big storm coming. As much as you could admit he was good to look at, you would not be fooled by some pretty face and tasty food. No, you came here with one goal and one goal only, and that was to give Jeon Jungkook a piece of his own two-faced medicine before running off to tattle to Namjoon.

You reach the kitchen and the heavenly smell of Alfredo sauce swarms your nostrils. “I… I’m still new to cooking, so I hope you don’t mind some Alfredo pasta,” he admits, shy smile adorning his features as he avoids your gaze once again to toy with the dish towel by the sink.

You creep closer to the counter, where two meticulously presented ceramic plates sit beside a wine bottle, and the glands in your mouth suddenly go into overdrive in their rush to make you salivate, and you choke out an overly eager, “it looks amazing!” before you know it.

Okay, you came here with two goals.

——

Jungkook carries the two bowls in his big hands to the dining room beside the kitchen, and you follow behind with the bottle of wine and two glasses as you set the table together. The utensils are already there, but Jungkook runs back into the kitchen anyway to return with some fancy cloth napkins for the two of you.

Just as you're tugging a chair out to sit, Jungkook beats you to it. “Ah, let me,” he smiles, and your heart thunders nervously in your chest as you return the expression, brushing your hands beneath you before sitting down and letting him push you in. Jungkook takes his own seat in front of you, and before you can dig in he calls out to seemingly nobody, “Alexa, dim the dining room lights.”

The overhead lights dim, and with their overbearing glow gone, you can finally appreciate the battery powered candles snuggled neatly into a little bowl on the table between you two. You ooh appreciatively, and Jungkook looks proud of himself.

Then, he says, “Alexa, play…Date Night Playlist.”

You blink, and a soft piano tune begins filtering through a speaker he’s hidden somewhere in the room. Even with the fake candles being your main source of light, the flush on Jungkook’s cheeks is evident as he gestures towards you to eat.

You won’t lie. Jeon Jungkook was extremely endearing.

This much becomes evident the further you get into the meal. As small talk devolves into full fledged conversations and story telling, his shy demeanor slipping away but still sticking to the edges of his personality, you begin to have a more difficult time connecting this Jungkook to the one who had less than 24 hours ago asked you to come over and “Netflix and chill” with him.

But the more you speak, the more distant that image begins to feel. For one, Jungkook does put on a fairly reserved aura for you, telling you about his job but refusing to brag about it even when you egg him on. He has no qualms gassing up his friends, Namjoon in particular, who Jungkook claims is his role model for some unknown reason, given the fact they are neither in the same major nor in any of the same clubs. They’re friends, point blank period, but Namjoon is very obviously a star in Jungkook’s eyes.

Additionally, he’s quite embarrassed to admit why Namjoon had been so set on getting Jungkook to date, but eventually tells you it’s because Jungkook’s last girlfriend had been during your freshman year—two whole years ago! It makes you wonder what he’d been doing since then, if he’d used the time to fully invest in his work or if he’d been mingling around, unbeknownst to his friends, which would explain the flirtatious offer that landed you here.

Still, a part of you refuses to believe last night’s Jungkook and tonight’s Jungkook were one in the same, and if they were, what had made this shy man so unabashedly invite you over for some sex. Was this act all a ploy? Or maybe, was he purposefully trying to ward you away by coming off as a gentleman now that he’d seen your face and wasn’t interested in you anymore?

Apparently it’s neither of the two, and you don’t realize this until you finish your meal and make your way into his living room to finally get down to the long awaited Netflix and chilling. It’s only when you sit down on the couch, smack dab in the middle, because at this point, you’re not gonna throw your wine at Jeon Jungkook like you planned, he was too nice. And if this niceness was an act to get in your panties, you didn’t care at this point. He was hot, achingly so, and at least you’d get a good fuck out of it.

But as you said, apparently not. Because Jeon Jungkook sees you purposefully take up the entire middle of the couch, sultry eyes staring him down, and decides to sit flush against the armrest, somehow leaving a good foot between the two of you, despite the fact you’re sitting next to each other.

Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend the situation, before he’s asking you what you want to watch. “Um,” you say, pointedly staring at him and not the screen. “Tr-Transformers?”

The way Jungkook’s eyes light up is insane, already round eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as he eagerly rushes to select it from whatever streaming service he has, probably not even Netflix, all the while chattering on about how much he loves that series, and is so glad you do too.

The whole time, you’re struck by the oddness of his casual tone, the way he’s overly invested in the 20th Century Fox opening, and how he’s very carefully avoiding intruding in on your personal space.

The last point in particular has you wanting to pull your hair out, because you want Jeon Jungkook intruding in on your personal space. You want him pressed so tightly against you you can’t breathe, you can’t move, until you’re drowning in him as he finally lives up to his promise of some Netflix and chill, because you want him, and you want him so. very. bad.

“Oh, I forgot the popcorn!” Jungkook exclaims, and you jump at the sudden volume of his voice, because he’d been pretty silent as he avidly watched the first few minutes of the movie. “Sorry,” he chuckles, and his leg brushes against yours as he shuffles between you and the coffee table on his way out. You vaguely hear the popping of the popcorn in the kitchen, but you’re too distracted by your suddenly overwhelming thoughts.

Okay, one thing was for sure, and that was that Jeon Jungkook definitely had no fucking idea what the phrase Netflix and chill meant, because the way he’d zeroed in on the movie and the popcorn, and not you, was unheard of on such invitations. You deduce he probably heard it somewhere, and, now understanding the true nature of Jungkook’s sweet and shy personality, made no such perverted connection to the phrase.

Which meant he most definitely did not demean you to a mere booty call, like you’d deluded yourself into believing, someone he could hump and dump with no regrets, before calling Namjoon up to thank him. Which meant he’d had no ulterior motives in meeting you tonight, just planning to get to know you at the suggestion of his friend, and had—unbeknownst to him—successfully wooed you thus far.

Which was great! If you turned a blind eye to the evil, conniving plans you’d made without even meeting the guy, and the subsequent flood of self-inflicted disapproval when you realized Jeon Jungkook was a sweetheart who definitely did not deserve having a glass of wine thrown at his face after making you a home cooked meal and giving you the full Olive Garden experience, with his dimmed lights and candlelit dinner and piano music on the background.

Yeah. Perfectly fine.

The only problem now was that you had become so dangerously smitten with the man that you wanted to sleep with him. You wanted that Netflix and chill, needed it like it was the last slot in a daycare class and you were a soccer mom of five wanting to get at least one kid out of the house for the summer for the sake of her own sanity. You were desperate.

No, you scold yourself. This was fine, this was good, this was perfectly okay. If anything, this just further made you enamored with Jungkook, because it proved how gentlemanly he was by not trying to sleep with you on the first date.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to, the devil on your shoulder crooned.

The microwave in the kitchen stops, and you hear the sound of cabinets opening as Jungkook pours the popcorn into a bowl. On screen, the main character is meeting a bunch of giant cars-turned-robots, you don’t fucking know.

But the devil was right.

Jungkook hadn’t offered to sleep with you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Furthermore, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be seduced into wanting to, your evil brain suggested, and the hope that had slithered it’s way into your chest from the very moment Jungkook had opened the door, took that fact and ran with it.

“What’d I miss?” Jungkook says when he returns, popcorn bowl in hand.

“Oh, um, he was with the car,” you offer, trying to stop the nefarious smirk from slipping onto your features. Jungkook laughs, cute and airy as he shuffles past you.

He’s too absorbed in the screen, not looking as he sits down, closer than last time until his thigh brushes yours and he jerks back in embarrassment. “Oh, sorry,” he flounders, goes to move away but you act fast.

You grab onto his upper arm with both of yours like an octopus, keeping him flush to you as you gaze up at him with wide eyes. “No, it’s okay,” you rush to assure him, loosening your hold as he tentatively relaxes beside you. You glance down at the popcorn bowl in his hand, swiping a piece to pop between your lips. “It’s easier for us this way,” you say, and you’re pulling that straight out of your ass, because you hate popcorn and have literally zero desire for it and wouldn’t have reached for it anyway if you weren’t trying to convince him this was all for popcorn sharing purposes.

Jungkook’s eyes briefly flicker down to where you’re munching on that popcorn, your lips, before he’s quickly averting his gaze. “Ah, y-yeah,” he agrees, and though he tries to relax back into the couch, you can still feel the tension of his muscles as he settles beside you.

With his eyes no longer trained on you, you snuggle closer into his side resting your cheek against the soft material covering his shoulder, finally letting that devious smirk slip onto your face. You keep yourself close to Jungkook, loving the way his warmth permeates the thick sweater he’s wearing, even if he’s still overly into the movie. You know he’s seen it before, because he keeps telling you random tidbits like, “they use this in the next movie!” Or “he ends up becoming really important in the sixth movie,” and you want to listen to this endearing nerd’s commentary, you really do, but once your brain is stuck on horny, it is stuck on horny.

He doesn’t even eat a lot of popcorn, setting it down not ten minutes later onto the coffee table. You release him as he moves forward, but quickly latch onto him again when he sits back down.

Much to your surprise, Jungkook is way more relaxed then, shrugging you off to rest his hand on the couch behind you, and you inwardly squeal at the prospect of getting to cuddle up to his body, and not just his arm. You cuddle in close to him, leaving your slippers on the ground as you tuck your legs up onto the couch cushions.

Jungkook is so warm and firm, and you know it’s your horny brain speaking, but you swear you feel a tight set of abs underneath the palm you rest on his stomach, and you give an experimental brush over the area. His heart picks up, you hear it by where your head is leaning against his chest, and you tilt your head up to give him a curious glance. His cheeks are red, and he doesn’t look at you even though you know he sees you, so you decide to kick things up a notch.

You sigh loudly, peeling yourself away from him to properly level him with a pout. “Jungkook, aren’t you hot in this?” You ask, pinching the wooly material between two fingers and pulling it from his skin. Jungkook finally looks away from the screen, nibbling his lower lip as he takes in your quizzical expression.

“Um, only a little… but it’s fine!” He rushes to say, and you recall from your conversations over dinner that Jungkook doesn’t much like people fussing over him, so you quickly change gears.

You press a hand against your cheek, the same one that had been resting against his shoulder earlier. “Oh, well… it’s really itchy,” you announce, and his eyes widen, one hand absentmindedly reaching to clutch the material at his chest. “It’s making me really itchy,” you emphasize, and part of you feels bad for taking advantage of his caring nature, but this is all for the greater good, you convince yourself. “Do you mind taking it off?”

“I, uh, yeah,” he agrees, reaching for the hem of his sweater before carefully peeling it off. When he pulls it over his head, you can’t help the triumphant grin that overtakes your face, though you quickly mask it when he finally frees himself from the material. “Better?” He says once he’s clad in only a plain black shirt.

“Mm, much,” you sigh, and nearly soak your panties then and there when a tattooed sleeve comes into view. “Woah!” You exclaim, snatching his wrists up to examine his skin. “What’s this?” You marvel, tracing every inch of delicious skin with your predatory gaze. Jungkook huffs out a laugh, and you glance up to watch as he rubs the back of his neck in that same embarrassed way he’d done multiple times throughout your night together.

“My tattoos,” he says, and then seems to realize the simplicity of his statement and rushes to add to it, “I hope you don’t mind?”

You hum, shifting onto your knees to face him as you continue tracing over a huge tiger lily by his forearm. “Why would I? It’s your body,” you say, and watch the nervous glance melt off his face as he regards you with something new. Something akin to wonder as he lets you trace over more of his ink, nodding along to your words.

“Yeah… yeah!” He agrees, and you grin at his sudden zeal. He chuckles, physically relaxing beneath your touch, and it’s probably the most relaxed he’s been all night as you continue rubbing your hands over every tattoo on his skin, and then purposefully focusing on the ones near his bicep. “Sorry, ‘m just used to people pushing off their own opinions about them onto me,” he explains, and for a moment, the horniness that had been fueling you all night fades away, and you let your hands trail down, past his wrist, until you’re sandwiching his hand between yours.

“Fuck what anyone else thinks,” you tell him, eyes hard as you imagine anyone imposing their stupid thoughts on Jungkook, who was too good for this world. “If you think they’re cool, then they're the coolest thing in the world.”

He smiles at you, and you’ve seen this smile about a million times tonight—when you first came in, when you talked about yourself at dinner, when you mentioned this stupid movie—but it has something swelling in your chest. Something too intimate for a first date, so you quickly move to repress it.

Glancing down at his hand in yours, littered with smaller tattoos across his knuckles, your brain whirls into action. Bringing it up between the two of you, you turn his hand over to line your palms up. “Wow, your hands are so big,” you sigh, slowly reverting back to dirty thoughts as you twist yours and Jungkook’s hands this way and that. He snorts, bends the tips of his fingers over yours just to hear you ooooh again.

“Yeah, they’re pretty big,” he agrees, completely ignoring the film playing on the screen, which is a huge win in your eyes considering how deeply he’d been watching it earlier.

Finally, you see an opening and pounce.

“Well, that means something else is pretty big too,” you murmur, chancing a glance up at his face. His face is the perfect definition of composed, and you can tell when exactly he processes your words because those little pink lips part in surprise, red slowly filling the apples of his cheeks. You let go of his palm, letting it slide between your fingers until it falls limp beside him.

Jungkook watches you with wide eyes, as you raise yourself up onto your knees. “Jungkook?” You mumble, giving him no warning before you’re throwing a leg across his lap, knees pressed into the couch on either side of his thighs.

“Y-Yes?” He stutters, brown hair falling away from his face as he stares up at you. You flash him a sweet smile, and you can tell it relaxes him because his fists unclench beside him.

“You’re a really nice boy,” you sigh, and when you’ve scooted your knees a little closer to his ridiculously thin waist, you finally let yourself sit. You find yourself right before his crotch, which he desperately tries to hide as he shifts around, but can’t with you on top of him. You let your hands flutter to rest at his shoulders, and he gulps. “You’re so sweet and cute,” you add, relish in the flush that climbs up to his ears. “But I’m a little sad you invited me over to Netflix and chill, but won’t do just that,” you pout, a finger tangling itself in a soft strand at the back of his head.

“Huh?” He stutters, eyes nearly bulging out when you wiggle around again. “I-I’m sorry?” He huffs, and when you move too close to his crotch, where his jeans are slowly growing more and more strained, he panics and reaches a hand out to steady your waist.

You feign confusion, flashing him another pout as you duck closer until your noses bump against each other. “You know what it means, don’t you, Jungkook?” You inquire, eyes falling dangerously lidded as you swallow up every inch of his appearances.

He stutters, hands moving up and down as if he doesn’t know where to put them anymore. But you know exactly where Jungkook can put those hands, and you waste no time catching his wrists in your hands to guide him towards your hips. “No?” He breathes, fingers flexing against you, and you smile sweetly at him.

“It means,” you purr, shifting forward until you’re flush against where you need him most. You can barely contain the whimper that climbs out of your throat when you finally feel the rough material of his jeans against your panties. “It means you wanna fuck, Jungkook,” you exhale, tossing your head back as your body basks in the slight reprieve, the way Jungkook squirms beneath you aiding greatly in providing that sensation you craved.

“It’s nothing more than an excuse,” you huff, placing a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself. At your touch, Jungkook jolts, thighs jumping beneath you and you stifle another groan when the zipper of his jeans prods against your core. “For you to fuck my brains out while some s-stupid movie plays in the background.”

You’re not sure when, but sometime during that last explanation your hands had fully delved into the thick tresses of Jungkook’s hair. You give an experimental tug, and poor Jungkook, so lost in all that you’re telling him, lolls his head back for you easily until the long expanse of his neck is available, soft creamy skin yours for the taking.

You pounce, kissing the skin gently at first, before sprinkling in a handful of nibbles. He’s sensitive, devastatingly so, as he gasps at a particular suck. You suction your lips on the spot below his ear, carefully biting down on the skin as he unravels beneath you. “Will you do it, Jungkookie?” You murmur against the shell of his ear,

He nods eagerly, and his fingers hurt where he’s pressed them deep into your waist, like he’s trying to brand you as his with his mere strength alone. “Y-Yes,” he exhales, hips jerking when you swipe your tongue over the pretty mark you’d left on his perfect skin.

You smother your smirk against his neck, grinding down on him once again. “Yes what?” You tease, and let his strong hands roll you against him afterwards.

“Yes, I-I’ll…” he stumbles, eyes dazed as he watches you through hooded lids. You raise a brow at him, shifting in his lap. It’s enough to kickstart him back up, and he’s biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. “I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you just like you want,” he rambles. He surprises you when he begins rutting up against you, so animalistic and uncontrolled, nothing like the sweet Jungkook that had indulged you over dinner. “I’ll make you come, p-promise,” he rasps.

You smirk down at him, hoping he doesn’t see the metaphorical horns sticking out of your head the further he falls into your trap. Before he can say anything else, you surge forward, slotting your mouths together for the first time that night.

It’s no surprise that Jungkook kisses just like he speaks, carefully like he’s afraid one hard press of his lips will ward you off. His lips are smooth, a fact you’d hyper-fixated on all night as he spoke, but before you can ponder on that any further, something hot and wet is prodding at your lower lip.

The gasp you barely manage to contain ends up escaping anyway when Jungkook’s hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head to the side as his tongue slithers into your mouth. You become obsessed with the way he touches you, every bit the gentlemen he’d been all night, fingers just barely pressing into your cheek like he doesn’t want to mess up your makeup. His other hand, snuggly wrapped around your waist, pulls you tighter against him until your chests are pressed together.

And that tongue. That tongue of his that leaves no room for argument, quickly shutting down any attempts of yours to overtake him. He’s graceful about it too, one nudge enough to convince you he’s got this, he’ll take care of you. You whimper, a sound Jungkook swallows before he’s biting down on your lower lip.

When he pulls away, his lips are red and glossy, and you wonder if yours are too. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he sighs, gazing at you like he can’t believe you’re there in front of him.

Before you can say anything else, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck to brush kisses over your skin. “Let me eat you out,” he begs, but his voice is so silky and smooth that it doesn’t sound so much as a plea as much as it does a suggestion. He licks a stripe up your neck, and you jump in his hold.

It’s at this moment where the sudden realization hits you, the feeling of having the reins yanked out of your hands. You so vividly controlled every aspect of Jungkook just a few moments ago, when you’d had your own mouth on his neck, and carefully coaxed him into some sex.

But it seems Jeon Jungkook isn’t as soft or as pliable as you had dubbed him to be, and if the way he’s begun subtly rolling your hips into his crotch is any sign, he certainly wasn’t the submissive type either. Which leaves you wondering, exactly what type of person was Jungkook in bed?

Well, you had all night to figure that out.

“Hey,” he whines suddenly, ripping you out of your thoughts. You glance down at him, registering the bored set of his eyes and the unimpressed quirk of his lips. “Pay attention to me.”

You blink, lips twitching. You can barely muffle the giggle that tears itself from your throat, leaning your forehead on his shoulder as your body shakes at his suddenly childish words. Jungkook chuckles too, as if suddenly realizing how out of place his own statement was. “Sorry,” he smiles, cheeks pleasantly rosy and you can’t even stop yourself from kissing him silly.

Jungkook, bless his heart, let’s you rain down a good three kisses on him before he’s pushing you down on the couch beside him. There’s still a slight gleam in his eyes, but the rest of his face schools itself into a hungry expression as he drinks in your body laid out before him. “Let me eat you out?” He asks again, voice but a soft whisper.

You nod, heart beating loudly in your chest as he shuffles down until he can press a kiss to the tops of your thighs. He hasn’t even done anything that intense yet, but you already feel the muscles in your leg ready to spasm just from his proximity.

He’s mouthing at your skin, nudging your legs apart, and you, usually so confident in your sexuality, can’t find the courage to look at him as he so lovingly carries out his ministrations.

As if sensing your sudden bout of shyness (you! shy! Doyeon was gonna tease you about this for the rest of your life once you recapped this for her), he places a soft kiss just below where the hem of your dress begins, before pulling back and uttering, “this okay?”

You hum in response, face warm from just imagining how good he must look down there, peppering your skin with kisses. Your heart nearly rips itself out of your chest when a strong set of fingers wraps around your wrist suddenly, sliding over and around your hand until he’s tangled them with yours.

At this, you nearly break your neck trying to look at him, only to be met with an amused smile. Jungkook gives your hand a squeeze, and you barely get to appreciate the schoolgirl flood of emotions in your chest, when suddenly his free hand comes out of left field, cupping the back of your knee to push your legs further apart, before gliding across the expanse of your thigh to push your dress up.

If Jungkook holding your hand was enough to make your heart skip a beat, Jungkook pressing a chaste kiss to your panty-clad mound was enough to send you into cardiac arrest. Your leg twitches at the sudden touch, a gasp catching in your throat at the delicate path he kisses over your panties, until he’s flicking his tongue over your clit. “Oh,” you moan, and against your better judgment, your free hand is tangling itself in his silky strands.

Jungkook smirks, what sounds like a tiny chuckle muffled as he continues mouthing along your sex, until your panties are soaked both from your arousal and his saliva. Your little thong stares him in the face, and he groans at the sight, glancing up at you with those wide eyes of his like you’re his entire world. “Can I?”

Jungkook gives your clit one final kiss, before he lets go of your hand, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you upon the lost contact. Jungkook eats it up, pressing a kiss turned smile against your knee as he tugs your underwear down. It coils up as it goes, until he’s pulling a tightly twisted maroon thong off your ankles, and tossing it off somewhere behind him.

If his mouth felt good through your panties, it feels even better without. You mewl when he brushes his lips over your clit, plush lips working your sensitive bundle of nerves, sly tongue occasionally creeping out to toy with you further. “Jungkook,” you cry out, back arching. He licks and slurps likes he’s a starved man, and you're the first meal he’s ever had. You want to sob from how good it feels, his tongue flicking over your bud like he just can’t get enough.

He pulls away to catch your gaze, doesn’t let it go as he runs a lone finger over your slit, coating the digit in your own arousal, before carefully plunging it into your warm, wet heat. “Is this good?” He rasps out, watching your facial expressions carefully as he wiggles his finger deeper into your core, his other hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you still. You moan, feeling like a boneless heap of organs beneath this insanely handsome man who can’t keep his hands off your quivering pussy.

His fingers don’t let up, slowly pulling out before plunging back in. The room fills with disgustingly wet sounds, but that fact drifts to the back of your head the faster his fingers go. Your eyes roll into your head, your body twitching with each press of his fingers.

“Is it good, pretty?” He repeats, and since you’re not looking at him anymore, the sudden lick against your clit has your back arching and your thighs quivering with surprise. “Tell me it’s good, ___,” Jungkook croons, and you nod in a hurry.

“It’s good!” You cry, moaning loudly when he slips another finger into you, scissoring the two inside of you. “It’s so good, Jungkook—y-you’re so good,” you moan, and nearly cry actual tears when he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing down against the most sensitive spot within you.

Jungkook doesn’t let up, continues licking and slurping against your sensitive bud, even when your orgasm hits and you’re begging him to stop. He doesn’t let you go until he feels the warmth coat his fingers, feels the wetness begging to seep out of your plugged pussy. He lets you go then, only to move closer to your hole and replace his fingers with his mouth. There, he carefully catches and collects the cum that trickles out, mouth warm against your trembling body.

Your body quivers with each long drag of his tongue over your sensitive cunt, and you’re about to ask him to stop, when he finally pulls away and pushes himself over you, arms caging you in as he stares down at your withered form. “Kiss,” you manage to gasp out, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question. “Kiss me,” you repeat, and then, thoughtfully, “please.”

Jungkook complies, leans down to connect your mouths in a sweet kiss. You’re blinded by the delicacy of it all, that you in no way see coming the sudden substance that slides down your throat from his own. You choke at the sudden intrusion, belatedly realizing it’s your cum he’s pushing down your throat, the cum he didn’t swallow.

“That’s it, pretty,” Jungkook croons, licking up the residual come that hadn’t made it into your mouth. “See how you taste for me. Isn’t it sweet?” He murmurs, pushing his tongue into your mouth as if he regretted not saving any for himself. It’s the first time you’ve had your own pleasure in your mouth, so you’re not exactly sure how to feel. What you do feel is the overwhelming surge of arousal at seeing Jungkook rave about it and lap it up inside your own mouth.

He kisses you for a few moments, mouth moving languidly along yours. One hand reaches down to rub soothingly at your inner thigh, like he’s coaxing the feeling back into your body after lulling you into one of the most heavenly orgasms of your entire life. You whimper when he bites down on your lower lip, like you’re still too sensitive to reciprocate, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. He lets you go, licks over where he’d bitten like an apology.

After a few minutes of just this, of feeling like the most cherished girl in the entire world, Jungkook finally pulls away and levels you with a dashing smile. “All good?” He asks, hands still trailing up your waist until they’re framing the swell of your breasts, where he gently circles your nipple.

You nod, dazedly staring up at him and it’s at this exact moment that you realize there’s something stiff poking at your hip. You glance down, and Jungkook glances down with you, until you’re both staring at the hard on he’s hiding beneath his jeans. Jungkook chuckles, low and dark by your ear as he experimentally presses it against you.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand is untangling itself from around his shoulders and slithering down his front. You cup his erection, his shaky exhale giving you the courage to toy with his belt buckle until it’s undone and you're battling with the button on his jeans instead. You put up a good fight, but in the end the angle is too tight for you to properly undo it, and Jungkook brushes your hands away with a soft kiss to your lips.

He pushes himself off you, and you’re immediately craving the warm press of his body against yours the second he’s gone. “Get that dress off for me, pretty girl,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, rendering you completely speechless as you gawk at his body. Jungkook glances down at you as he goes to undo his pants, a shapely brow raising in your direction and a soft quirk of his lips gesturing for you to do as you’re told.

You spur into action, wiggling the dress up and over your breasts until you’re pulling it over your head and letting it drop beside you on the floor. You’re just in time to see Jungkook push his jeans down his hips, a classic black Calvin Klein underwear band glaring back at you.

The chance to marvel at Jungkook’s thin waist framed by that tight underwear is gone as quickly as it came, and you’re greeted with an even more mouthwatering sight when he pushes the elastic band down, and that big cock you had alluded to springs out of its confines. You groan, subconsciously rolling your hips into the air as you take in the sight of his cock, mushroom tip swollen and flushed. There’s a thick vein that runs along the underside of it, one you only see when Jungkook grasps his dick in his hand and tugs upward like this isn’t his true form, and he can get bigger.

“Ready?” He asks, biting down on his lip as he continues to stroke himself. You nod, wiggling closer to him until the backs of your thighs rest on top of his, knees knocking against his waist. He grants you one more of those kind smiles, before he’s leaning down to press a hand beside your head, the other lining himself up with your soaked entrance.

Running his cock over your folds one last time, collecting as much of your cum as he can, he brushes a kiss against your cheekbone before he’s pushing in. You moan, throwing your hands around his neck as he pierces through the initial ring of muscle surrounding your warm heat. “Holy shit,” you choke, mouth dropped open as you pant like a dog against his shoulder. “J-Jungkook,” you cry, legs tightening around his waist the closer his body presses against yours.

Once he’s at the hilt, pelvis flush against you, you can’t help the series of whines and mewls that escape your lips from being so comfortably filled to the brim.

To your surprise, Jungkook is the first to speak. “Fuck,” he groans, breath hot against your ear. He sounds fucked out, once silky voice raspy with need as he grinds his hips against you tentatively. “This is what you wanted, isn't it?” He huffs, both hands coming down to wrap around your waist, your back arching under the wonderful hands that find themselves squeezing every inch of your back in an effort to pull you closer.

His mouth brushes against yours from this new position, and Jungkook puckers his lips, tongue coming out to lick at your bottom lip. You nearly cry when he finally pulls his hips away, relieves his cock from your tight heat before surging back in. “Wanted this from the moment you walked in, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Jungkook grunts, repeats the same motion until he’s picked up a steady pace of pushing and pulling, each roll of his hips sending a shock of ecstasy crawling up your spine.

You nod, eyes screwed shut as pleasure warms every inch of your body. It’s even worse to not see, because every sound and every touch is magnified tenfold, until you’re drowning in sensations. Jungkook’s choked groans, the slide of his hips, they all become too much too quickly and you’re choking back a sob.

“Fuck,” he groans, glancing down at your withered form like an animal as he picks up his pace. His hold on you tightens, never letting your body move away from him and he begins jack hammering in his thrusts, swallowing your cries with his lips. “Had me thinking you were a nice girl,” he huffs, and you wonder if he knows how tightly he’s holding you, how this grip will most likely leave you with fingerprint bruises tomorrow morning. But then again, you don’t care. All you care about is Jungkook’s voice and his body, guiding you toward completion. “But all you wanted was a quick fuck.”

You steel yourself to look at him again, and when your eyes finally open and focus, you’re wishing you hadn’t because Jungkook looks so hot over you. His pretty eyes, the ones that had led you into a false sense of comfort throughout the night and tricked you into believing he would be easy to bend to your every whim, are hard now. “Isn’t that right, doll?” He spits, and you whine when he punctuates this question with a particularly brutal thrust of his hips. His balls slap against your ass, and you squirm beneath him as you begin to feel the beginnings of an orgasm build in your core.

“I-I thought—“ you stammer, tone pitched from the way he jostles you with every thrust he gives. “Y-You wanted that,” you weekly defend, canting your hips down in a feeble attempt to progress this along.

He snorts, captures your lips in a rushed kiss where he wastes no time snaking his tongue inside your mouth. His saliva trickles into your mouth, and you whine as he purposefully lets it happen, pulls away just the slightest to pucker his lips and let a thick trail of spit fall straight into your open mouth. Satisfied with his little stunt, he rams his cock against you once more.

“If you wanted a quick fuck,” he says, nearly loses himself in your pussy, “you came to the wrong guy, sweetheart.”

You’re too caught up in the nice drag of his cock against your pussy, the tip of his cock stopping him from ever pulling out completely, that it takes you a second to process his words. “H-Huh?” You choke, teary eyes flickering across his face wildly as if the answer will be right in plain sight.

But all you’re met with is the soft pull of his lips as he flashes you a smirk, pearly white teeth tugging at the pink flesh, as he levels you with a glare of his own. Before you can question him further, he’s letting go of your waist to hike your knees into the crook of his elbows, his pouty lips growing further away as he leans back.

This shift has his cock nudging up, rubbing against the hood of your clit where a bundle of nerves he’d only briefly brushed before sits. You shriek in pleasure, writhing beneath him as the sudden sensation hits you full force. “Jungkook!” You sob, his hips slowing to a grind as he watches your face crumble beneath him.

“You like that?” He murmurs, rutting his hips against you shallowly. The change of pace, the rabid piston of his hips slowing to this, has your body melting into his touch. You barely manage a nod, eyes fluttering open and shut as his hips move sensually against you.

His cock brushes against that sensitive spot with each roll of his hips, and you’re a mewling, puddle of emotion by the third thrust. “Pretty girl,” he hums, letting go of one leg to place a hand above your mound, thumb circling your clit until you’re trembling beneath him. “Did you think I would fuck you and kick you out?” He husks, watching your body like he’s a lion and you’re his prey.

Your brain is far from comprehending anything at this point, reduced to a mere mass of nothingness as he continues moving against you, fingers rubbing your clit in all the right ways.

“Well, you were wrong about that, doll,” he huffs, and you’re blessed with the sight of his head lolling back as he loses himself in the tight grip of your pussy, skin glistening with sweat, trailing from behind his ear and over his neck, until you’re watching a pearl roll over his collarbones. “I don’t do that,” he informs you, and he pinches your clit between two fingers, hard enough that you almost miss his next words as you moan. “No, baby, I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he spits, and you whimper at his words. Finally, he lets go of your knees, right as you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and you moan out in protest as he ducks down to cage you between his arms again.

“Please,” you beg, voice hoarse as his hips slowly return to their pace from before. He’s still not pulling out as much, keeping his thrusts shallow as he kisses a trail up your neck and over your jaw.

“Gonna fuck you so good, you don’t ever want to leave, pretty,” he says, kisses the corner of your mouth as his hips pick up pace. You wanna cry, feeling so warm and cherished in his arms, his voice telling you how good you’re doing as the coil in your stomach tightens and tightens until you’re begging him for more. “Do you want that?”

“Yes! Yes!” You sob, rolling your hips against his like a madman as you chase your high.

Jungkook hums, smile smushed against your lips as he watches you desperately writhing beneath him. “Yeah? You want that?” You nod, mewls swallowed by his kisses. “Then cum for me, pretty girl.”

You whimper, just as he bucks into you once more, and suddenly you’re falling apart. It starts in your lower back, the ecstasy climbing it’s way through your body until you’re quivering and sobbing in his embrace, muffling your sounds against his shoulder. The muscles in your entire body tighten painfully, until suddenly a wave of contentment washes over you, and you’re too weak to even hold onto him anymore, arms flopping back onto the couch cushions beneath you.

The whole time, Jungkook mutters encouragement against your jaw, keeps his thrusts short but quick, guiding you through your orgasm. When you’re done, he presses an open mouthed kiss beneath your ear, pulling away to look at your boneless frame beneath him.

A few pistons of his hips later, and Jungkook is coming inside of you, cum coating your walls as he hammers his way through his orgasm. He pulls out when he’s done, and you instantly feel your mixed arousal drip out between your thighs.

Woozy from the wine and the two orgasms, you fall asleep soon after.

——

“Good morning,” you murmur, standing at the doorway leading into the kitchen, an area you’d only been able to find after stumbling around the upstairs of the house in confusion.

Jungkook whirls around, wide eyes taking in your appearance. You clutch at the hem of the big t-shirt you’d pulled on, the only article of clothing you saw that was thrown over a chair in a bedroom you didn’t dare snoop around. “Morning,” he exhales, calculating gaze never leaving you as you tiptoe over to him by the counter.

He doesn’t say more, spluttering into action when you peek over his shoulder to see what he’s up to. “What’re you making?” You inquire, and his hands begin fidgeting with the knife.

“Oh, um,” he stutters, and perhaps he’s overly aware of your presence so close beside him, because he suddenly doesn’t remember how he’s supposed to cut an avocado. Cute, you think. “Just, um, toast with avocado spread…”

You hum. After a moment, it seems Jungkook is able to quell his nerves, and he carefully slices the avocado open, spreading its innards across the toast. He hands you the first piece, which you take after masking your own surprise, and soon after he’s turning away from the counter as the two of you eat in silence.

After a few thoughtful munches of bread, you speak. “Thanks for carrying me to bed,” you say, refusing to look at him.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, almost a little too fast and you barely bite down a grin as he rambles on. “Wasn’t gonna leave you on the couch, especially not when you were so tired after… ah, yeah.”

It’s the reserved way he carries himself that gives you the balls to look at him. His ears are flushed adorably red, like when you were at dinner last night talking about his job, and all you wanna do is pinch his cheeks. “Yeah,” you agree, and then add with an air of faux shyness, “you were really cool last night.”

It’s the little devil in you begging to jump out, curious to see how far you can push Jungkook before he shifts into that suave version of himself from last night, and you would feel bad had the corner of his lips not tilted up in amusement.

He chokes out a laugh, mutters a “yeah?” and you don’t stop yourself when you jump into his arms and kiss that avocado spread right off his lips.

——

On Tuesday afternoon, Kim Namjoon is in the midst of delivering another sermon-like speech on the importance of utilizing your student ID when visiting any of the Starbucks within a two mile radius of your school, when you spot a chestnut head of hair from the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, Joon! My ride's here!” You yelp, shoving your notebook into your bag as you stumble over yourself in your haste to leave.

Namjoon blinks. “Huh? I thought you lived on campus?”

You nod, that giddy feeling starting up in your chest as he comes closer to where you and Namjoon have taken up residence on a table in the commons for your weekly meeting, and by the time he reaches the table Namjoon is still in the midst of questioning you.

“Jungkook,” You say, all dreamily and dazed, and you know this because Doyeon caught you with this same exact look on your face after he dropped you off at the dorms Sunday afternoon.

Namjoon startles. “What the f—“

“Hi,” Jungkook beams, leans down to brush a kiss against your cheek, which only serves to make you even more ditzy and dumb in the face of this handsome man. “Oh, hey, hyung.”

“What’re you doi—“

“All set?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring whatever his beloved senior was saying in favor of taking your bag off your shoulders. You nod, have to swallow a giggle down when he takes your hand in his. “Bye, hyung.”

“Bye, Joon!” You barely remember to throw over your shoulder, too busy wrapping yourself around Jungkook’s arm to hear Namjoon blabber in shock.

“Kids these days,” he huffs.

[ part 2 ; hulu & woohoo ]

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #jjk smut #bts smut #mine

5K notes · View notes

shoutogepi · 4 years

Text

Orange Lamborghini

Bakugou Katsuki

word count : 6.3k

[ ✘ (nsfw!) ]

themes : lil toucha ass play, car sex, baku being a damn tease

bio : You keep telling yourself you’re done with Bakugou, but the last time is never really the last time, is it?

author’s note : i know i said i was gonna post a tamaki fic but it’s a certain violent blonde’s birthday tomorrow!! (happy 4/20 ayy) so here you go ;) … also this is a part two to my other baku fic, “fuck you i just might”, but you don’t have to read that one before this if you don’t wanna!

side note : Y/H/N is your hero name, and reader is a pro hero working at the same agency as Bakugou. ALSO he smells like caramel bc of his quirk, dont fight me on this >:(

also available on AO3 here

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

“🅂taying late again?” Reo, the owner of the coffee cart stationed in the lobby of the hero agency, quizzes as he throws you an accusatory look.

You stand before him, hand awkwardly looped around your elbow and a small, bashful smile on your lips. He totally knows. But you appreciate that he never outright says anything, and you know for a fact that he would never peep even a whisper to anyone. You are probably his most loyal customer, and you’d like to think he considers you a friend after all this time— not to mention, all the coffee you’ve purchased from him.

Reo gauges your meek expression, and he only smiles as he pours the creamer into the dark brown liquid. “They must be working you hard… I’ve never seen a top hero work such long hours, staying even after everyone else has left. Well, almost everyone, that is.”

Yeah, he most certainly knows.

“What can I say?” You blabber, perhaps answering him a bit too quickly. “Work is my whole life. I don’t have time for anything else, I guess.” The sentiment is a little awkward but full of candor, and when the words leave your lips you’re surprised to hear them carry such a solemn tone.

The man nods in understanding, handing you your cup of coffee before he grabs a cookie from the glass display case and offers it to you as well. “On the house,” he states and you share a long showdown of a gaze with him before you reluctantly pluck the treat from his outreached tongs.

“Thanks Reo, you have a good night now.” Bowing slightly to the elder, you turn and take your leave, quiet steps echoing in the otherwise empty foyer.

Just as the elevator doors open to take you back up into the higher levels of the building, Reo calls out to you. “You know, you should find someone that’s just as hardworking as you. Maybe they’re closer than you think.”

Flustered by the old man’s advice, you only nod and bow again, jamming your thumb into the button. A sigh of relief escapes you as the doors conceal you from his prying eyes. That man has a sixth sense, you swear.

The elevator doors open and you briskly walk through them, along the corridor and around the corner before you finally reach the conference room. Taking a deep breath, you slip through the doorway, eyes trained on the table half-covered in paperwork. Bakugou is sitting behind the spread out files, his red eyes jumping up to regard your approaching form. Placing the cookie wrapped in napkin on the table, you nod at him as you turn and open a cabinet, fingers pinching a fresh manilla folder and shutting the door with a bump from your hip.

“Working late, huh?” His rough voice splits the silence hanging in the air, and when you turn to look at the blonde, he’s lounged back, corded bicep hung carelessly over the back of the chair and a cocky look on his face. But his eyes hold another emotion as they give you a once-over, one that makes your insides stir in both memory and apprehension.

You nod again, a coy smile gracing your lips as you take a sip of your coffee, your own gaze lingering on the muscles that poke out from the hem of his tight tank top. “You too?” You ask, even though the answer is obvious.

Bakugou’s hand twirls the pen he was previously using in rapid, effortless circles, and his knee bounces slowly underneath the table. “You gonna eat that?” He answers your question with his own, slanted eyes flicking towards the cookie resting on the tabletop just an arm’s length away from him.

“You want it?” You can’t help but be surprised— you always expected Bakugou to be an uppity-ass, no-junk-food kind of guy.

“It’s Reo’s, right?” The blonde replies gruffly, thick fingers reaching out to grab the confection. “Shit tastes like heaven.”

Your eyes widen as you connect the dots. Why, that sly little…

“Don’t work yourself too hard,” you chirp out as you turn on your heel, ready to retreat back to the safety of your office.

Bakugou’s scarlet eyes return back to your departing figure, a thin brow raised and a snarl of a smirk splitting his lips. “Aw, ‘ya worrying ‘bout me now, Princess?”

“Fuck you,” it flows from your mouth, years of foul-mouthing built up into a knee-jerk reaction. Your eyes widen as his turn to slits, that stupid smirk morphing into a gleaming grin.

“Don’t tempt me.”

A wave of heat washes over you from head to toe before settling between your legs. You don’t bother to stick around, your feet carrying you out of the conference room as Bakugou’s harsh laughter trails behind you, echoing down the hallway.

Closing the door to your office behind you, you lean your back against it as you slide toward the floor, shutting your eyes tight as the memory washes over you. He’d taken you— right there on the desk you’re supposed to be working at— and ugh, it was fucking good. Shit, he was good. Dropping the folder on the floor your fingers fly to your temple, rubbing your skull in a useless attempt to push the memory away.

Alright, if you’re being honest… that was just the first time. There were, well, a handful of times following the initial incident, much to your now chagrin. There was that time in his office on the other side of the building that had a perfect view of the ocean, which you had become very familiar with while your face was pressed up against the glass and he ravaged you from behind. There was also that time when it was around this time of night and he had thrown all your paperwork off of the conference table and taken you right there, pounding into you like no tomorrow. Yeah, there were a few times you’d found yourself naked before him, pussy gripping his thick cock as your lips clashed with his.

But last time was the last time. You can’t just keep fucking him like this, all over the agency in such scandalous secrecy… the two of you hiding this gruesomely passionate beast you co-own, feeding it only once the the coast is clear and, oh, he feeds it so well… every meal a juicy, fat steak dripping with desire and euphoria, encasing your senses in a silky smooth film as his calloused hands glide all over your— No!

You shake your head abruptly, derailing your sinful train of thought. You agreed that last time was it, fin. And… the time before that, too… and maybe the one before then as well— well, it doesn’t matter because last time was actually the last time. Pulling yourself together, you make your way toward your desk and begrudgingly begin your work.

By the time the folder is full, the clock indicates that tomorrow has begun and thus, it’s time for you to go home. Without a glance towards the conference room, you make your way toward the elevator, letting out a long sigh as the weight of the day slips from your shoulders. Jabbing your thumb into the button, you lean against the railing and check your phone out of habit. Two new messages from Jirou pique your interest, and you eagerly open the chat log to see what she’d sent.

Jiji 🎸: Girls meeting at the usual tmrw night!! Hope you can make it :)

Jiji 🎸: We all miss ya girly, you’ve been working too much lately ❤️

A part of you feels bad for misleading your friends. It’s not that you aren’t working late these days… it’s that your workload is not the only thing you’re doing when you stay after hours at the agency. Your friends had started to notice all the late nights you’d been spending at your job, and they’d begun to pout when you would bail on their bar-nights. They understood that you were working, and you hoped that they didn’t harbor any further suspicions. You had not told a single soul about your rendezvous with Bakugou Katsuki— the only person who seemed to have an inkling of your relationship, if you could call it that, was Reo.

Sliding your phone into your bag, you decide to try to make it tomorrow night. The last time had been the last time with Bakugou, so you would definitely be free tomorrow night, especially after finishing up the paperwork you had just completed minutes prior. With a wave of determination washing over you, a small smile appears on your lips as you fiddle with your staff key-card absentmindedly, wondering what you should wear when tomorrow night comes around.

When the elevator dings and opens its doors, your feet take you out of the steel chamber and into the cement confines of the parking garage. At this time of night, the only way in and out of the building is through the parking garage gate, seeing as the custodians lock up the front doors long before midnight. But you don’t mind, because the night air is fresh and cool on your face, and the subway is only a three minute walk from the garage exit. Just before you can reach out to tap your key against the automatic gate, an ear-splitting screech roars behind you and you jump, shooting straight up into the air.

Whipping around, headlights nearly blind you as they point right into your eyes. Squinting at the obnoxious light, your vision widens again when you recognize the outline of a sleek and shiny Lamborghini. An orange Lamborghini, to be precise. And a license plate with “G-ZER0” unmistakably tacked onto the front bumper, which sits almost flush against the smooth cement floor.

“Oi, Y/H/N,” a blonde head pokes out from the driver’s window, narrowed red eyes glaring at you. But his lips are curled into a smirk, clearly enjoying your frightened-animal-like reaction to the startling revv of his engine. “You’re blockin’ the way.”

Your hands indignantly turn into fists at your hips, a frown and a furrowed brow marring your expression as you turn around. Smacking the key card against the scanner you strut directly in the middle of the pavement for as long as you can before the road widens. Once the car can easily fit on either side of you, you move over to the sidewalk, arms crossed over your chest as the low car matches your pace, engine purring loudly.

The window next to you rolls down soundlessly, and the blonde leans slightly over his console to crane his face up in order to see yours. “Where are you goin’?” Bakugou inquires, and you can feel his intense gaze on the side of your face but you do not turn to acknowledge him.

“Subway.” You reply shortly, eyes trained straight ahead of you. Three minutes until you reach the subway station, exactly two corners and two blocks away.

The car roars as the angry blonde hits the pedals again, exhaust crackling with a ferocity similar to a big cat’s. The sound is deafening but you don’t waver, feet placing calmly in front of one another. “At this hour?” He pauses for a moment, long enough for you to let your guard down and chance a look at him. Which is a mistake, because goddamn he looks sexy as hell sitting in that exorbitant car, one hand thrown atop the wheel with his bicep on display, the other arm perched atop the console between the seats and those vermillion eyes blazing into you. It’s only a mere second that you give him, but he knows your resolve flutters as you look away quickly, your pace increasing to make him press on the gas just a hair harder to keep up with you.

Your breath catches in your throat when he speaks again, your heart pummeling your ribcage with vigor and a claminess lining your palms.

“Get in.”

It’s neither a question nor a statement— it’s a demand. One that has heat rising between your legs, the embers that had been so surely extinguished suddenly igniting furiously with but a scrap of sustenance. You grit your teeth and keep walking, determined not to get in the car. If you get in that car… you don’t know where you’ll end up. Or, you do know where you might end up, and that would be very bad. It takes a lot of your willpower to spit out a simple, “No thanks.”

Bakugou grumbles at your stubbornness, the vehicle screeching again as he demonstrates his displeasure and the unnecessary horsepower underneath his hood. “Come on, Y/N. Just get in,” he presses, his voice not as harsh as it was just a moment ago.

But you hold your own, flipping a stray lock of hair over your shoulder. “Aw,” you smirk, humoring him for a millisecond as your eyes flick over to him, “‘ya worrying ‘bout me now, Boom-Boy?” Your lips curl into a satisfied smirk as he visibly bristles in the corner of your eye.

“Damn it, I’m trying ‘ta— tch,” Bakugou grumbles and cuts himself off before he apparently decides he’s not going to play the familiar game of cat and mouse with you, “Fuck this.” Tires squealing on the rubble, the sleek car leaves you in the dust, sharply turning the corner ahead of you before disappearing into the night, the noise of the thundering engine echoing through the tall cityscape.

You glare at the corner ahead of you, unimpressed. He was trying to— to what, put you in a pissy mood? Hell of a job he did, if that was the case. Frown sinking into your cheeks deeper than before, you continue your way to the subway station while you pull your phone out to distract you from your miffed thoughts. Turning around the very same corner the orange sports car had rounded just a minute ago, you nearly drop your belongings when a pair of rough hands grip your biceps.

Relief washes over you for a moment when you meet Bakugou's irritated expression, before horror spreads through your limbs as he shoves you into his open passenger door. Without much of a fight you’re inside the vehicle, fruitlessly yanking the door handle only to find it’s locked shut. Sliding back into the luxurious leather seat, you scowl at the hero as he slams his door closed and snags the black seatbelt over his torso. “The fuck, Bakugou?” You hiss, attempting the door again to no avail.

“Hey, easy with that!” He growls, a thick finger flicking the pedal shifter into drive and slapping his boot against the gas. His eyes meet yours as a wicked grin lifts his lips. “Buckle up, Princess.”

Your head smacks against the back of the seat as the car lurches into a velocity that no doubt exceeds the speed-limit. Your hands scramble over your shoulder and you frantically grab the metal clip, unceremoniously shoving the belt across your lap to find its destination. Once the joint clicks into place, your eyes fly to the man beside you, pure rage boiling underneath your skin. “You asshole! I’m gonna rip your dick off!” You yell, the slightly ajar windows letting air zip into the cabin and howl in your ears, your hair flying around your face.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me,” he quips dryly, voice deep but holding an infuriatingly potent tone of amusement.

You shut up at that, heat rising to your cheeks as you look out the window defiantly, away from him. Your eyes trail over the interior of the car, curiosity winning you over as you your fingers trace the smooth features lining the inside of the door. There’s a soft underlighting beneath the seats, glowing an acidic green to compliment the orange of the exterior in a display that screams man with an enormous ego. You roll your eyes, adjusting your legs to point away from him as much as possible.

“I didn’t know you had a Lamborghini. This how you get into your slutty fangirls’ pants? Take ‘em for a ride in the Baku-bile?” You ask, shooting daggers into his sharp jawline. The premise of him fucking faceless girls in the very seat you’re in makes you want to throw up in disgust.

Bakugou snorts at the name, scarlet eyes snapping toward you before settling back on the road. “Don’t need to show ‘em my car to take ‘em for a ride,” he answers snidely, a sharp canine gleaming at you from his smirk.

You don’t acknowledge his reply, one arm crossed over your chest and the other gripping the side of the door harshly as the city flies by outside the windows. You wonder where he’s taking you, because he never asked for your address, but you sure as hell aren’t going to start up a conversation again with that dickwad, so you just simmer in your displeasure instead.

The ride is surprisingly smooth and you would never admit it, but the feeling of him stepping on the acceleration makes your heart thud, adrenaline coursing through your veins and washing over you. You try your best to hide your excitement with every boost of speed, but you don’t catch Bakugou’s eyes lingering on your tiny smile every time he accelerates. You almost whine when the car slows and you pull into an empty parking lot, apprehension settling in your chest as the engine cuts and you’re left in silence, with him. A public park stretches before the lot, empty swings and monkey-bars twirling leisurely in the wind.

He doesn’t say a word, so after an incredibly long and awkward minute you break the ice. “Bakugou… what are we doing here?” You turn to him expectantly, lips melting back into a frown as you give him a once-over. He’s still in that tank top, which you curse for being a part of his hero costume. Why the hell did he have to choose something so flattering?

The blonde casts a side glance at you, leaning back slightly in his seat. “Wanted to have a chat with ‘ya,” he says, turning to look at you fully. The car seems like it is not big enough, for he’s only a short distance away from you and looking handsome as ever. The park before the windshield is illuminated by only the moon and starlight, casting a soft glow onto his smooth skin. The stubble on his jaw scatters tiny shadows across his chin, and those scarlet eyes peer into yours deeply. The moment is full of unrestrained tension, until he speaks again. “Coulda done this in the garage but your stubborn ass wouldn’t gimme the time of day,” he grumbles, effectively releasing you from his trance.

You blink and look away before returning your attention to him, a sour expression on your face. “Okay, dipshit, what did you wanna talk about?” You huff, arms crossing over your chest defensively. So you might have gotten yourself into this, but only a tiny bit.

You’re left hanging, expectantly eyeing him with a measured gaze. His eyes are locked with yours, but his mouth doesn’t move, not a semblance of a word on his lips. You give him that ‘eyes widening and head jutting forward, I’m waiting for you to talk’ look, but still he’s quiet. Tossing your hair over your shoulder impatiently, you let out a frustrated sigh as you close your eyes. “Look,” you start, turning back to him ready to flame his ass, “I don’t—”

Bakugou’s lips are on yours, his hands clutching your jaw and pushing your mouth into his while he leans forward over the console between the seats. A moan tears from your lungs, the familiar scent of caramel crashing over you as he fills up your senses, fingertips weaving into the hair behind your ears. His tongue thrusts into your mouth, greeting yours like a lover desperate to hold his beloved, caressing and rolling and dancing.

Suddenly your hands are on him, one around his back and pressing him toward you while the other threads through his silky soft tresses. A groan rumbles out of him as you pull against his scalp, one of his hands slipping down the back of your head to hold where your neck meets your shoulders, squeezing the sides of your throat gently. An embarrassing mewl floats out of you at that, a string of saliva connecting your mouths as you both gasp for breath.

His red eyes twinkle at you mockingly, a sultry snarl on his lips. But Bakugou doesn’t dare say a word, instead claiming your lips again with his own, sucking in your bottom lip and biting gently with his pointy canines. The hand on your neck remains strong, while his other hand slithers down your chest, groping your breast with enthusiasm and his thumb roving over your already-hard nipple, which he can feel through the fabric of your skin-tight hero costume and bra. He moans at the discovery, fingers eagerly flying to your side and unraveling the zipper there, watching as the skin of your exposed chest becomes illuminated in a mixture of moonlight and the green glow emanating from beneath the seats. Tugging the wire to rest atop your tits, he nearly growls at the sight of them, diving face-first toward you and wrapping his mouth around a nipple. You buck into him, falling back uncomfortably onto the door, but he just crawls onto his seat and leans further into you, red eyes darting up to catch your wanton expression.

Desperately gripping at the shreds of your sanity, a tiny part of you screams out at the wrongness of the situation. “We shouldn't… fuck, Bakug— ohhh,” you whimper as he nibbles at you, your heart rate skyrocketing in desire as you close your eyes, trapping your trembling lip between your teeth. The rationale is pushed away, the only thing you can pay attention to being the way Bakugou’s mouth feels latched onto you, and the hand traveling down your torso to tease between your legs. His rough fingers prod at your cunt through your leotard, expertly locating your clit through the cloth and focusing extra attention there. Simmering tendrils of heat burst through you and you cry out, legs weakly drawing his wide frame closer to you.

After a moment Bakugou sits back in his seat, pulling you with him. It’s a little rocky, not a perfect transition, but you make your way to sit on his lap nonetheless. His large hands palm your tits roughly, pinching your nipples as his tongue wrestles with yours, your moans leaking into his mouth. His body jerks in surprise as your hips begin to roll against his, and you can feel just how bad he wants this too, rubbing into you against your thigh. It only makes him touch you harder, leaning down slightly and becoming lost in the heated kiss. A hand trails down your waist to grab a handful of your ass, cupping the flesh before he slaps it harshly, then holding it in his palm again as his fingers dig into your skin. He drinks up every noise you release, like a starved man receiving his first meal in forever. He pulls away to kiss down your neck, tongue licking a stripe down your throat before his warm mouth lands on your skin, nipping and lathering and sucking.

“This is,” you gasp, coming up for air and that scrap of sanity surfacing in your mind again, “We shouldn’t be doing this, we— we said that last time was the, ahuh-ahh, last… last time.”

Bakugou sucks harder against your neck, his hands on either ass cheek and pulling your bottom against him. The friction of his cock against your core, even with your clothes separating you, makes your head spin and your voice die out. “You want me to stop, hah?” He grumbles against your throat, slick with his saliva. He rolls your hips against his particularly hard, and your hand reaches out to latch onto his shoulder as your pussy twinges in your panties.

You cannot reply, only a high-pitched whimper tumbles out of you because suddenly he’s pushing aside your leotard and panties, digits dipping into your humiliatingly wet entrance. His fingers easily glide up and down your slit, thumb flicking cruelly against your clit as you double over, nails breaching the skin on his shoulders.

“Doesn’t seem like you know what you want,” he comments, voice gravelly and timbre. His other hand rests on your hip, keeping you from grinding against him. He’s looking up at you, eyes darkened with lust and that haughty grin splitting his lips.

You glare at him, eyebrow twitching at his torment, mouth wavering as his fingers continue to tease along your sopping folds. After being with him so many times, you know what he’s waiting for, but you’re absolutely torn; a moth drawn to the flame yet wary of being burnt. “Please, Bakugou,” you murmur, eyes begging him to give you more.

Bakugou’s brow quirks upright, a single knuckle pushing into you and rubbing against your velvet walls. “Please, what, Princess?” He drawls out, almost purring at having you in his favorite position. That being, you, desperate for his touch.

You groan, throwing your head back as another knuckle slides inside, two wide fingertips stretching your cunt so infuriatingly shallowly. You try to move your hips but his grip is iron on your waist, and a long whine falls out of your mouth. “Just— Pleaseee Katsuki,” you beg, not wanting to say the words he truly wants, but not giving him nothing as his name leaves your lips so seductively.

His nostrils flare as he exhales, shifting underneath you as you feel his cock twitch against your leg. “I thought you wanted me to stop?” He growls, tone low enough you can feel his words shake his lungs. They shake something within you, too.

“No,” you breathe out, placing your lips softly against his before pulling away, your eyes boring into his, “I want this, I want you so bad.”

Bakugou groans as he drives his fingers into you knuckle-deep, curling his fingertips and rubbing against your insides. You moan like a whore at the sensation, his thumb still working on your clit clumsily as he pumps his fingers into you. His lips capture yours again, the hand on your hip jumping up to grab onto your neck again and push your lips harder onto his.

A searing heat ebbs through your body as his digits dutifully work within you, and you can’t help but begin to drop your hips against his hand, grinding onto his fingers without restraint. Bakugou clearly appreciates that, a loud moan ripping out of his lungs at the novelty and his fingers press harder into you, colliding into that spongy spot deep inside. You sob at the intensity, pleasure wracking through you as the angle only makes it easier for him to hit that spot— again, and again, and again— until white shapes flash before your eyes and you’re clutching onto him, screaming out as ecstasy thrums through your entire being.

After a minute of your pussy fluttering around him, Bakugou’s fingers pull out of you, and you finally open your eyes to see him looking at you like you’re the hottest person on the planet. “Fuck,” he snarls, lip twitching as he lifts his hips, tugging down his black pants and briefs half-way down his thighs. His heavy cock smacks against his abdomen, looking pale and pretty in the low lighting, glistening with a bead of pre rolling down the side of his length.

You lick your lips at the sight, the desire to shove him into your mouth overcoming you. Bakugou catches your reaction, a low chuckle reverberating his chest and making you glance at him. “I wanna suck you off,” you say quietly, looking over to the passenger seat and wondering if you could do it from that position, because you certainly can’t do it from where you are now.

“Thas’kay Princess,” he mumbles, grabbing your chin and forcing your lips to meet his once again. His tongue glides over your lip slowly, his other hand smacking your ass roughly before he grabs the inside of your thigh, spreading you above him. “That can wait. Need you right now.”

His words send a different kind of shiver down your spine— the kind that was the whole reason why you’d told yourself you needed to stop fucking him in the first place. But right now, in this moment, there is no way you’re not going to fuck him. You’d already come this far, you might as well just indulge yourself in him.

So you do, and you both let out a breath of satisfaction as you rub your dripping cunt against the underside of his length. You lather him up, slickening his member in your arousal from back to front before you press your lips onto his, soft but passionate, and you welcome him inside with ease.

Bakugou’s head falls back onto the headrest as his hands lay slack on your hips. He’s reclined, but his red eyes jump between your face, your tits, and your cunt that sucks him up so greedily as you begin to bounce above him. His mouth hangs open slightly as you find your rhythm, your hands ripping up the bottom of his tank top to lay your palms on his chest and his abs, a thumb scratching through his kept and dark happy trail. “Hah— fuck, Y/NNN,” he moans, closing his eyes to succumb to the pleasure for a moment before he forces them back open, refusing to miss out on such a dreamy sight. Memorizing your body, willing himself to remember each moan and blissful expression you give, storing it away so he can burn them into his spank bank.

Once he’s had his fill of the wondrous sight, he sits up, mouth sucking in your nipple as his hands still your hips, grabbing the flesh there and wiggling to adjust himself underneath you. Ecstasy shoots through you as he takes the lead, thrusting up harshly to prod deep inside your womb, stretching you out and rubbing so deliciously against your g-spot. “Oh, god, Katsuki,” you wheeze as he just goes faster, thick and muscular thighs providing enough means to continue like this for who knows how long. Just as you begin to feel your orgasm build once again, his pace slows, and you’re about to complain before a long finger is thrust into your mouth.

Bakugou groans as your tongue coats the digit in spit, not needing instruction. “You gonna be a good girl for me, Princess?” He questions before he takes the finger out.

Your arms fold around his neck as you nod and kiss him again, drunk on his lips and his touch. He welcomes the tender moment, a hand planting on your ass and spreading you again before his wet finger meets your asshole, making you jump into him with wide eyes. “Ka—”

His lips pull you back in, silencing your hesitance as he begins to thrust his cock up into you again, pace measured and slow. The roll of his hips provides a new type of pleasure as his cock drags against your inner walls, your clit rolling on his pelvis. You quiver on top of him, hole puckering as his finger rubs around your rim. You whimper when he pushes inside, the small stretch foreign and stinging. But he doesn’t push it any further, just continues to lazily grind up inside of you, his tongue playing with yours. He only breaks away to whisper praise to you that makes your pussy shiver around him, “Good girl, you’re sucha good girl Y/N.”

Before long the digit is up to the second knuckle, and you’re a moaning mess above him. The feeling of his finger in your ass, with his cock stretching and pushing in and out of you— it has your eyes crossing in pleasure. The thin wall separating his cock and his finger continues to rub exquisitely on both sides, sending waves of fuzzy bliss coursing through your limbs.

The extra penetration seems to also be affecting Bakugou, for his thrusts begin to pick up as he starts slapping up into you with renewed ferocity. The stimulation from your pussy and your clit already have you clenching, but then he starts to push his finger in and out of your ass slowly, and you’re holding onto him for dear life, your head on his shoulder as you mewl into his neck. You can feel your orgasm approaching, and so can Bakugou, who nuzzles your face a bit before he kisses you again. Your lips dance sloppily, your body jostling as he pounds into you from below, and you begin to whimper as your cunt tightens around his cock.

“Still want me to stop?” He hisses, rough palm clapping across your ass cheek.

“Fuck no,” you pant, planting your knees on the seat beside his thighs and bucking up and down in tune with his pace.

Bakugou groans at your initiative, knuckle sliding deeper inside of you and gauging your reaction as your shudder against him in pleasure. “You like a finger in the ass, hah? Fucking slut,” he snarls as he rubs the digit inside of you, eliciting a low moan from the depths of your lungs.

You’re bouncing on his lap as best as you can, your head skimming the top of the car’s interior while you claw at his shoulders. “God, Katsuki, mphhh—” The added pressure of you sinking down as he ruts up is almost enough for you to cum, and Bakugou knows exactly how close to the finish line you are, grabbing your jaw and tugging your face to hang directly in front of his.

You brow furrows and your heartbeat hastens at the intimacy, passion crackling between the pair of you as his vermillion orbs burn into you. You don’t want to let him see such a vulnerable part of you, but he starts to slam into that spot deep inside of you mercilessly, determined to show you how good he can make you feel. Your orgasm tears through you and an overwhelming heat blasts into your body like wildfire through dry grass. A broken shriek releases from you as your eyes slam shut, limbs shaking, nails diving into his traps, and toes curling in your shoes.

Bakugou gasps as you constrict around him, moving his hands to clasp onto your hips tightly, throwing your body down to meet his as he pistons into you. Skull falling backwards limply, your tongue lolls out like a bitch in heat, his actions dragging out your mind-numbing climax delightfully long. He launches at the exposed skin of your neck, teeth sinking into your throat hard enough to leave dark bruises there, moaning shamelessly into your flesh as his thrusts become quicker, needier. “S-Shit, where should I— ‘m gonna—”

Your fingers rush to his hair, snapping his head backwards and his eyes widen in surprise, but you smother his open mouth with yours immediately, your tongue plunging into his wet cavern and claiming him as your own. Your hips hurl onto his with finality and the blonde stiffens beneath you, trembling fingers pressing into your skin. A loud groan rattles both of your bodies as his load spills into you, coating your womb in his sticky release as you continue to drop onto his searing cock slowly. When he comes down from his high he squeezes your waist gently to signal you to stop, sitting back with his jaw hung open slightly, laboured and choppy breaths making his sculpted chest rise and fall sharply.

You let him pull you into his embrace, his large biceps caging you against his chest as he tries to catch his breath. It’s peaceful laying in his arms, the post-orgasm bliss thriving and filling the entire cabin of the vehicle in a hot and sweet scent. Or maybe that was just Bakugou— you subtly sniff his skin and smile, the caramel-like aroma from his exertion wafting off of him. He’s warm, and somehow even though his muscles are rock-hard beneath you, his embrace is soft. You nuzzle into his neck as his fingers glide over your moist back, arms locked around your waist.

Neither of you say a word, two heartbeats thumping rapidly against each other as you enjoy each other’s presence. The both of you desperately cling to this moment of serenity, knowing that soon enough you’ll have to go back to normal, and this will have just been another “last time.”

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

no one asked for this but i did it anyway 🤪🤪 happy birthday blasty 💥💚🧡

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

#mhmm ive been thinking about this for awhile #hope it was alright!! i know nothing about cars nor car sex LMAO #especially not lamborghinis lol #bakugou fic #bakugo fic #mha fic #bnha fic #bakugou katsuki fic #bakugo katsuki fic #bakugou smut #bakugo smut #mha smut #bnha smut #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my fics #my fics katsuki

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marvel-lously · 5 years

Text

A Kiss For A Slip

Words: 3000ish

Genre. fluff

Pairing: Zendaya x reader

A/N: I had this scenario in my head for far too long and I am now finally putting it into words. This is a little different than the rest of Zendaya fics I’ve seen so far. I am actually quite proud of how it came out and I sincerely hope you like it too (in fact, I am thinking of writing a smutty next part so tell me if you’re interested). Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :D

All photos belong to amazing @really-bad-pauses

Tags ‘cause I am a bit of an attention whore (but tell me if you want to be untagged): @supersoldierfreak @ryleighisapanda @one-big-dreamer @santahollands @spiderrrling @hollandroos @lauxxury @itsholyholland @peachyhollands @lesbianfalcon @screamholland @ginatoldmeso @theassetseyeliner @no-aaaahhhh @aw-hawkeye @falseosterhollandfantasies @zophora @angelpparker @allithewriter @likechadwick @purespidey @petalparker @astral-parker @cindysmoonss @spideymybabe @afilmbypeterparkr @mj4president @mandatheredpanda @princessunicorn13 @talkfastparker

»Yo Paddy, help me out with this will you? Y/N's coming home today.« Tom yelled from the bottom of the stairs, sighing frustratingly after getting no response. »I swear to god Paddy I will spoil the Endgame for you, if you don't come down and help me right away!«

Loud rumbling could be heard, coming from Paddy's room. »Okay I'll help you, I'll help you, just, don't you dare spoil the movie for me.« Paddy shouted, running down the stairs, almost falling in the process.

»Good, now let's get on with it.« Tom smiled, clapping his hands.

»Where are Harry and Sam? Why aren't they here to help?« The youngest of the brothers asked, making a dissatisfied face.

»They are, they went to the store to get some of the missing ingredients.« Tom gave his younger brother a pat on the head. »Don't be like this, you know how Y/n always does things like this for us, so, don't you think it would be kind if we do something nice for her, for a change?«

Paddy seemed to give Tom's words a considerable amount of thought, then nodded. »You're right Tom«, he said shyly, fidgeting with his hands, »but I don't want to be the one who only washes the dishes all the time, I want to be real help!«

Tom looked at him, smirking. »Okay, fine, you're in charge of cooking the bechamel sauce for our lasagna, deal?« Tom offers his hand out for Paddy to shake in agreement.

The boy just gawked with wide, but excited eyes. »Deal.« He quipped, firmly shaking Tom's hand.

The bell rang.

»I'll get it« called Tom from the kitchen, quickly drying his hands with a kitchen towel.

You squeezed Tom in a tight embrace. You haven't seen your brother in what? Three months? College was hard.

»Wow, Y/n, I see you still look... stressed, depressed...« he looked you up and down »not even well dressed, I see.«

You gasped mockingly. »Why thank you my dearest brother and you still look like a 12 year old. Honestly, has Paddy outgrew you yet?« You joked, ruffling Tom's hair.

»I missed you too sis.« He laughed, hugging you once more.

»Y/n!!« Sam, Harry and Paddy, came barging through the hallway door, throwing themself at you, wrapping you in a giant hug.

»Hey Paddy! Wow! You've grown so much!« you said, your voice astounded.

»Come on, let's go eat before we all start crying. The English are salty enough as it is.« Harry chuckled, pushing you towards the dining room.

»Where are mum and dad by the way?« You asked curiously.

»Oh, they just went to pick up Z, they should be back in half an hour.« Tom shrugged nonchalantly.

»I'm sorry, what?« You asked, gulping.

»Yeah, Z's coming to London for filming for a couple of days and since we're friends I thought it'd be okay if she stays with us.« Tom raised an eyebrow. »Why? Is there something wrong with that?«

»No, nope, all good here, I'm just... imma go to the bathroom real quick.« You said, already backing out of the room.

What the fuck? Zendaya is coming to your house? Without as much as a single warning from Tom?? How fucking dares he?

Your mind was all over the place, you had to take deep breaths in order not to freak out.

You splashed some cold water in your face, hoping it would pull you back from wherever the hell your train of thoughts was heading.

It's just another one of Tom's friends staying here for a sleepover, nothing unusual, except... this time it was your crush.

You had the biggest crush on Z ever since you saw her in Homecoming. She was this cool, talented, beautiful, smart girl and you were... you. There was nothing special about you, or at least so you thought.

You decided to head back before the boys got suspicious.

»Y/n? Is everything alright with you?« Sam's expression was clearly worried.

»Yes, yeah of course, I'm just a little tired from the ride here and everything.« You offered a reassuring smile.

You ate your dinner quicker than ever before. Every bite burned your throat and by the end of it, you thought you were breathing fire.

The doorbell rang once again. You panickingly grabbed your napkin, wiping the meat sauce off your mouth.

»Hey Z!« You heard Tom's greeting from the hall.

»Y/n! Your mum and dad came rushing through the door, each enveloping you in their arms.

You hugged back. You missed them more than you will ever admit, but you still let go fast, not able to shake this nauseous feeling you got when you saw Z standing behind them.

»I believe we haven't met yet.« She smiled, stretching out her hand. »I'm Zendaya« Her voice chimed and you could feel goosebumps forming on your skin.

»Yeah, I know«, you forced a smile, giving her hand a lousy shake, »I'm Y/n.«

The most beautiful smile you had ever seen graced her lips. »Yeah I know, Tom told me a lot about you.« She almost sang.

Oh god, of course he talked about you, you could only hope he left out a few of the embarrassing things you have done.

»I sure hope they were good things.« You let out a nervous laugh.

»Absolutely.« She chuckled, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

˝Oh god, oh god, oh god. Okay Y/n, don't freak out, don't freak out, just play it cool. Just fucking play it cool.˝ You thought to yourself.

She must've felt you tense under her touch because she soon let go and mumbled a timid sorry.

»I... I'm gonna head to bed now.« You stuttered.

»Already?« Tom asked, surprise clear in his tone.

»Like I said, I'm super tired and I don't want to fall asleep on the couch again.« You smiled, heading to your room.

»Was is something I said?« Zendaya's concerned voice was the last thing you heard before locking yourself in your bedroom

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˝Y/n, you good?˝ -Message from Sam.

˝Yeah?˝

-Your message.

˝Wanna talk about it?˝-Message from Sam.

˝Do I WaNnA TaLk AbOuT iT??!˝

-Your message.

˝Well do you??˝-Message from Sam.

˝It's just that Tom didn't tell me about Z coming over and I was a little unprepared that's all.˝-Your message.

˝Y/n, I know you, that's not it. Tell me what's rly going on.˝-Message from Sam.

˝Oh you think you know me?!˝

-Your message.

˝Well believe it or not Y/n, we've been siblings for over 19 years, so yeah, I do know you. And where tf do you even get all those pictures??˝-Message from Sam.

˝It's a secret.˝-Your message.

˝*gasp* you dare to keep secrets like this from your own brother˝

-Message from Sam.

˝*double gasp* you dare to interrogate me about my secret meme stash?˝-Your message.

˝Ugh, you're trying to distract me... just tell me what's wrong already.˝-Message from Sam.

˝Ugh, fine grumpy. I have a crush on her okay?˝ -Your message.

˝And why is that a problem??˝- Message from Sam.

˝Because she's a gorgeous and I am a potato???˝-Your message.

˝You're not a potato... okay maybe you're chips, but those are pretty nice anyways so I still don't see your point here.˝- Message from Sam.

˝Anyways, mum's telling me to put my phone down, plus she said we have to go shopping tomorrow so... we'll talk about this tmrw??˝- Message from Sam.

˝k˝- Your message.

You sighed in frustration, putting your phone on the nightstand, you hoped you'll be able to get some sleep despite all that has happened that day, knowing you're going to need a lot of energy to deal with all of it the next day.

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You woke up early, wanting to have the bathroom for yourself before the four of them come crowding in and there's no way in hell you can do your makeup or anything for that matter.

You stripped down, ready for a hot shower to wake you up. You tried your new ginger lemon shampoo your friend bought you for Christmas. It smelled heavenly.

You barely managed to grab a towel before Zendaya opened the door.

»Jesus!« You shouted, startled by her sudden appearance.

»Y/n, oh gosh, I'm so sorry, I thought the toilet was free« She started apologizing, her cheeks getting warmer by second.

»It's... we don't usually lock the door I am afraid.« You mumbled incoherently.

»Right... I'm so sorry, I'm just... I am gonna leave now.« She said, stammering over her words and promptly leaving the spot. »And go jump off a bridge.« She murmured to herself.

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»She just came out of nowhere. Oh god Sam, I didn't even have my legs shaved, I must've looked like a freaking grizzly bear to her. What's she going to think about me now?« You whisper-yelled panickingly, pushing the trolly.

»Y/n, just calm down will ya? It's not like she came in to check whether or not you're regularly shaving your legs.« Sam rolled his eyes.

»But I am regularly shaving my legs, well... except for winter... but that's beside the point, I mean what even? She's this beautiful goddess, sent to destroy my sanity as it seems.« You sighed, subconsciously pulling on your hair in frustration.

»Wow, you're really crushing hard this time, aren't you?« Sam chuckled.

»If you say as much as a single word to her, I will make sure Tom knows you were the one who tried on his suit when he was gone and tore it.« You threatened, pointing a finger at him.

»Ugh... you're impossible!« He groaned, rubbing his face with his hands in hopelessness. »Fine, I won't say a word.«

»Pinky promise?« You asked untrusting, offering him your finger.

»Pinky promise.« He sighed, hooking his pinky around yours.

»I don't understand though, why won't you just talk to her?« He asked, wanting to understand your logic in this situation.

»Because... Sam, I don't stand a chance. She's so amazing and cool and intelligent and I am...«

»You're strong and kind and hardworking and smart and caring and pretty. Y/n, stop putting yourself down like this.« He said, looking you straight in the eyes.

You smiled, Sam's words somewhat lifting your spirits up. »Plus, she's so cute I could literally die.« You laughed nervously.

»Then perish.« Sam said in the most serious tone he could master, before you both burst out laughing.

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»She looked so cute, like a scared puppy or something.« Zendaya rambled, her voice a few octaves higher than normal. »But I'm so embarrassed tho, I just barged in, like what does she think of me now? If she didn't like me before, she sure as hell doesn't like me now.« Z nearly cried hiding her head in the pillow on the couch.

»I think you're exaggerating now.« Tom tried to reassure, rubbing her back soothingly. »I’m sure Y/n likes you, she's just shy around people she doesn't know well.”

»Oh yeah? Tom, when I touched her she tensed like I just poured ice on her.« Zendaya’s voice was desperate.

»Like I said, she's... really shy.« Tom tried to comfort her.

»I don't know... I still don't think she likes me very much.« She murmured into the pillow.

»Maybe you two need to go out and do something together, like some sort of bonding time you know?« Tom suggested.

»And what do you suggest we do?«

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»Harry, Tom, we're home.« You yelled carrying a bag of groceries.

»Come here, we're just watching a movie.« Harry yelled from the living room.

You let down your groceries, heading towards the living room.

»Aww, it's Me Before You.« You smiled at seeing one of your favorite films playing on telly.

You sat on the sofa. »Come here Tess!« You pated your legs and Tess immediately left Tom's lap, jumping on a seat next to you.

»Oh I see, I thought there was only one traitor bitch in this house, but I see there's two.« He feigned being offended.

»Jealous much?« You laughed, giving him an evil grin.

»I'm back!« Zendaya's voice rang from the hallway. You immediately froze. You wanted to be around her so bad, but at the same time, you wanted to bury yourself alive from how awkward you were around her.

»Hey Y/n« She greeted, offering you a smile.

»Hi« You tried your best for your voice not to tremble.

»What's up?« She asked, plopping down next to you and Tessa.

»Nothing much, I was just about to leave before I start full on crying because of this movie.« You tried to offer her a smile, already standing up.

You got yourself four incredulous looks and a judgemental one from Sam.

Soon after you went upstairs, so did Zendaya.

»Okay what's going on with Y/n?« Tom asked, your behavior making absolutely no sense to him.

»She has a crush on Z« Sam sighed, running his hand through his hair.

»Oooh, well, that... still doesn't explain why she's acting the way she is...?« Tom waited for an explanation.

»Well, she doesn't think she stands a chance with Z.« Sam explained.

»Oh my god, are you serious right now?« Tom asked, staring unbelievably at Sam.

»Yeah tell me about it, but try convincing Y/n into it... you know how she is.«

»I told Zendaya to invite her to do something together, to bond you know?« Tom said, his voice hopeful.

»Are you sure you won't just make things more awkward between them this way?« Harry questioned, sceptical.

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There was knock on your door.

»Y/n? Can I come in?« Zendaya's muffled voice made your heart skip a beat.

»Uh, yeah, sure.« You cleared your throat, quickly grabbing a few of the clothes laying around the room and hiding them under your bed. »What's good?« You asked once she stepped in.

»Well, I got this spa cupones today and I was wondering if you wanted to join me?« She asked, playing with her sleeves nervously.

Her words sent your brain into overdrive. Oh my goodness, Zendaya just asked you to come to a spa with her. Zendaya freaking Coleman asked you to go to a spa with her! But... what if you make things awkward, what if she's only asking you to be nice and doesn't actually want you to come with her, what if...?

»Y/n?« Her voice broke your trans. »I'm sorry, you don't have to go if you don't want to.« There was a genuine disappointment in her voice.

»No, no, I...« you cleared your throat once more, »I would love to go.«

Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. »Oh that's wonderful!« She chipped. »Come on, let's go!«

»Wait... right now?« You gulped nervously.

»Well yes, unless... you don't want to go right now?« She raised her eyebrow in question.

»No, it's okay, just give me a second to get ready okay?«

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You were walking down the pavement, your hands freezing. How could you be so stupid to forget your mittens at home, in this weather. You tried pulling your sleeves over your hand in hopes it would help, unfortunately it proved out to be useless.

»Jesus Y/n, your hands are literally turning blue from the cold, here«, she said, taking a hold of your hands, »let me help.«

You had to bite your tongue in order to stop yourself from squealing. Not only were your hands getting warmer, your entire body was.

When you arrived at the spa, you two decided to go to the pool first, you both needed to warm up a bit, after walking the entire way over here, in this icy weather.

You had to force yourself not to gawk at Z like a madman. She looked stunning, her olive green swimsuit complimenting her beautiful tawny complexion.

»Last one in the pool buys hot chocolate.« She yelled, running towards the pool.

You quickly ran after her, but just before you managed to reach the pool your foot slipped, sending you face down to the ground.

Zendaya rushed back to you, helping you get up. »Shit, Y/n, can you stand?« Panic was clear in her voice.

No, no you couldn't, but no so much because of the pain, but because you just face planted in front of your crush. Oh god, you were a mess.

You clutched hard on her arm. »I am a little dizzy.« You admitted.

»Yeah, no wonder, you're bleeding«, she rubbed soothing circles on your back, »come on, let's get you cleaned up.« She said, allowing you to lean almost your entire weight on her, taking you to the toilets.

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You were sitting on a toilet seat, while she went to get first aid.

»I am sorry, this is my fault.« She said, pressing a damp cotton ball to the side of your forehead, where your wound was.

»No, no it's not, you're not the one who was careless enough to ignore the fact that floor was wet and full on sprinted to the pool.« You laughed, hoping your words would reassure her.

She gave you a tight smile, not once removing her eyes from your wound.

The feeling of her hot breath send shivers down your spine, every nerve inside of you seemed so much more sensitive when you were around her.

»There« she said, after she finished cleaning the gash, pressing a gentle kiss to it.

After she realized what she has done, she froze, her soft lips promptly leaving your skin.

»I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that.« She stammered.

Your mind quite literally exploded. You looked at her and you could see she was just as much of a mess as you were.

You took a hold of her hands, giving them a comforting squeeze. You stared deep into her eyes. ˝Oh hell, it's now or never, be brave for once in your life˝ you thought, slowly leaning in, your foreheads now touching. You gave her enough time to back away, but all she did was close her eyes before you softly brushed your lips against hers.

After a while, you slowly broke the kiss. She didn't even give you a second to think, before she pressed her lips back to yours, only this time, with much more passion. She grazed her tounge against your bottom lip, begging you to give her entrance and you happily obliged, the feeling of her tounge like a drug to you.

A knock on the door broke your makeout session. »Is everything okay in there, do you need anything else for the wound?« It was the receptionist who gave Zendaya the first aid.

»No, we're good.« You yelled back, a little out of breath.

»Come on, let's go back before they call you an ambulance«, she smirked, »We'll continue this later.«

#zendaya x reader #zendaya coleman #zendaya imagine #z #wlw #bisexual reader #bi #lgbtq fic #lgbtq #reader insert #zendaya #spiderman homecoming #reblog #tom holland x reader #sam holland #paddy holland #harry holland

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theo-loves-broadway · 6 years

Text

Put A Ring On It (Jyrus Fanfic Oneshot)

as you know was DEVASTATED by the most recent andi mack episode, so i wrote this indulgent jyrus fic to cope with my feelings. it’s based off of a few headcanons that i came up with on here. work under the cut and on ao3.

i drew inspiration from dodie clark and dear evan hansen too

LINK: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15170165/chapters/36054771

It had started off innocently; Jonah sent a text to the group chat asking if they wanted to get together for lunch and a walk in the park. At least, that’s what Cyrus saw from his end of the screen. Unbeknownst to him, Jonah had sent separate texts to Andi and Buffy, pleading with them to decline his offer; he wanted it to be just him and Cyrus, but didn’t have the guts to text Cyrus separately. Luckily, the girls happily obliged, knowing where their friend was going with his idea.

[AndiMan: Sorry, I wish I could! Bex said I had to help her repaint the Fringe :(]

[Slayer: can’t. basketball practice. got a game tmrw. maybe next time]

And with that, the plan had been set in motion. Jonah had been planning this for a week, and with the help of YouTube videos, mint-chocolate ice cream, and rehearsal in front of a mirror, he was finally ready. Okay, that was a lie, but he was as close to ready as he would ever get, and that was good enough. He changed into a blue striped polo and a pair of khakis before he texted Cyrus.

[Cy-Guy <3: looks like it’s just you and me today! i’ll see you at the park. we can get lunch there since there’s a little cafe thing :)]

There, Jonah thought proudly, his signature smile crossing his face, that seems...normal enough to the point where he won’t question it, right? Right, he tried to reason with himself, not realizing he was bouncing his leg. He was nervous? Wait, incorrect inflection. He. Was. Nervous. It was no longer a question, it was a statement. But Jonah Beck did not get nervous, especially around a friend, err sorta friend, that he is so desperately trying to impress. Nope, that did not happen.

“Breathe, dude,” he told himself as he hurried down the stairs, “it’s just Cyrus...and his smile, and his adorable laugh, and his nose that crinkles up when he laughs,” he rambled to himself, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m in trouble,” he said with a chuckle, slipping on his New Balance shoes, grabbing his phone and wallet, and heading out the door.

“I’m never going to find something acceptable to wear!” Cyrus groaned, practically throwing his entire closet of clothes onto the floor. “Now there’s enough room for me to walk back in,” he tried to joke with himself, but the nerves were undeterred. “Just pick something,” he grumbled to himself, his hands landing on a muted yellow t-shirt with a small rainbow where the logo would normally go. “Looks gay enough for me,” Cyrus decided, slipping it on along with a pair of jeans.

“Cyrus! Are you almost ready?” his step-mom called from downstairs. In that moment, Cyrus nearly regretted telling her about his “outing”, if you will; she hated for Cyrus to be late to things.

“Yeah, I’ll be down in a minute!” he shouted back, taking a quick moment to sort out his hair. It was a bit of a mess from the weekend trip to the beach; Cyrus and salty air did not mesh well. Per TJ’s advice, he took some gel and fluffed it up a little, creating the effect that he had his life together, when in reality, he did not. Scrambling down the stairs, he was greeted by his step-mom at the door, his phone in hand as well as his wallet.

“Here you go, Cyrus,” she chirped, handing him his belongings and waiting for him to slip his sneakers on. “You call if you need anything, okay?” she added, her motherly love shining through her voice.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Cyrus consoled her, as well as himself, “I’ll see you in a little bit!” he said with a quick wave, picking up his pace as he left out the door. He kept it up for a while before he realized how out of breath he was and how sweaty he was getting. Not exactly how he wanted to show up to this...hang out; he did not want a repeat of the video he was asked to shoot where he looked like a literal soaked rag. He could see the entrance of the park ahead, the black gates gleaming in the gentle sunlight. As he got closer, he saw who he thought was Jonah, standing by the bench and looking around. Was he...nervous? No, Cyrus thought, Jonah doesn’t get nervous. He’s Jonah Beck!

“Jonah!” Cyrus called from the entrance, seeing Jonah’s face light up. There he is, Cyrus thought as he approached, seeing the emeralds that were Jonah’s eyes sparkle in the light.

“Hey, Cy-Guy!” Jonah greeted, instantly feeling his anxiety melt away. Something about Cyrus’ presence always made him feel at ease. “You ready for lunch?”

“I’m starving,” Cyrus replied, glancing around for something to eat, “where are we going?”

“There’s a little cafe if we follow that path,” Jonah pointed out, grabbing Cyrus’ hand and dragging him a little towards the way they were headed, “c’mon!”

Cyrus felt his whole body melt, like how people said they felt after a tough workout. Cyrus never really worked out, so that feeling was pretty unfamiliar.

“So Andi and Buffy couldn’t come,” Jonah noted, stating the obvious.

“Yeah, I saw,” Cyrus replied, his gaze drifting up to meet Jonah’s. Man, he felt like he was swimming in those eyes of his. He was so lost in his eyes, in fact, that he didn’t notice the giant tree root sticking out into the path, so he lost his balance and tripped. “Ouch,” he winced, pushing off of the ground to try and get up.

“You okay?” Jonah was quick to reply, offering Cyrus his hand and pulling him up. Apparently, Jonah miscalculated how hard he could pull him up, and they ended up nearly touching noses. Jonah could feel Cyrus’ shaky breath on his skin, and begrudgingly took a step back, not letting go of his hand.

Cyrus noticed their hands and felt his cheeks heat up, like they were on fire. Were Jonah’s hands always this soft? Or was he wearing lotion? Cyrus filed that away for another conversation, and gingerly took his hand away.

That moment alone made Jonah almost give up entirely on this plan, but something made him not. It was Cyrus’ weak smile, the one that he’d do after he tripped or missed a frisbee. It was so...endearing, and he loved it.

“So now that we’ve checked ‘fall down’ off the list of today’s activities, can we grab something to eat?” Cyrus asked with a giggle, as the boys pulled up to the little cafe in the park.

Jonah just nodded, fearing that what would come out his mouth now would backfire. The boys ordered sandwiches and apple juices; not the typical Spoon order, but they made do.

“By the way, did I mention that I love your outfit?” Cyrus exclaimed mid-bite, “it reminds me of Evan Hansen. You’ve got it all, JB,” he chuckled, sipping at his juice.

Jonah Beck was totally not blushing like mad, except that he was. He couldn’t even look at Cyrus since he knew that he’d turn even redder, if that was possible.

“Thanks, Cy-Guy,” Jonah played, finishing off his sandwich. “This place isn’t that bad, right?”

“It’s no Spoon, but with you? Anything’s fine,” Cyrus murmured. Jonah could have sworn he saw a light blush creep up on Cyrus’, but he blamed his mind for playing tricks on him.

“Thanks,” he replied, squeezing his hands together underneath the table. He’d planned this day for a while, but now that it was finally here , he wanted nothing more than to turn back the clock.

“Did you know I play the guitar?” Jonah blurted out. Right, that’s the way to start the conversation ball rolling.

Cyrus did a double take, nearly breaking out in laughter. “Yeah. I was there at the Open Mic? When you sang the song? For Andi?” Cyrus reminded him, his voice getting smaller as he spoke.

“Oh..yeah,” Jonah mustered as a reply. Ever since the kiss, he hadn’t really felt...anything with Andi, other than friendship. He had talked to her about his feelings, and things had really worked out for the best. Andi and Walker were now happily together, and Buffy was having a great time watching her friends “fall in love”.

“Have you ever heard of Dodie Clark?” Jonah asked, glancing toward the waiter and giving him an eyebrow raise. That was the small signal.

“The bicon? Yes, of course! I’ve heard her coming out song, but that’s it. I’d love to hear more of her songs,” Cyrus admitted, drumming his fingers on the table.

“Well,” Jonah began, standing up and heading towards the register, where the waiter passed him a guitar, “you might just be in luck.”

“Wait—what’s going on?” Cyrus questioned; he had so many burning questions but only this one could make it out.

“Don’t—just, listen to the music. And the lyrics,” Jonah whispered the last part, clearing his throat and staring off with the opening chords. It was too happy for his taste, at least in this moment; he was putting it all on the line. Jonah Beck did not talk about his feelings, except when he did, with Cyrus.

“I have a question,” he began, “it might seem strange. How are your lungs? Are they in pain?” he sang, locking eyes with Cyrus’. Yep, definitely drownable, like the chocolate river in Willy Wonka’s factory. The lyrics earned him a little chuckle from Cyrus, and that boosted Jonah’s confidence just a touch.

“Cause mine are aching, think I know why. I kinda like it though. You wanna try?” Jonah continued, the strumming on the guitar becoming a little less prominent as he approached the most stressful part of the song. He couldn’t properly read the expression on Cyrus’ face; it looked a little stunned, but also confused? It was a mix of emotions and Jonah Beck was not ready to handle that.

“Oh would you be so kind as to fall in love with me? You see, I’m trying, I know you know that I like you, but that’s not enough. So if you will please fall in love; I think it’s only fair. There’s gotta be some butterflies somewhere, wanna share, ‘cause I like you, but that’s not enough. So if you will, please fall in love with me?” he continued, feeling a familiar feeling rise in his chest. Jonah knew that his cheeks were probably the color of the roses behind him, but that didn’t matter. His strumming got more confident, and a smile grew on his face as he met Cyrus’ face. He looked like he had just seen a monster; his mouth was open, and his eyes were unblinking.

Does he like it? Or, what if he hates it? What if he doesn’t feel the same? Jonah thought as he continued, finishing up the bridge and slowly putting his guitar down to sing the final chorus a cappella. He pulled out a few blades of grass from the ground as he sang, weaving and tying them into a small ring.

“...’Cause I like you, but that’s not enough. So if you will, please fall in love with me,” he finished, smiling sheepishly. He waited for a few beats; some weak clapping from other people in the park ensued, and Jonah just nodded to recognize them. As the noise died down, he turned towards Cyrus.

“Did--did you like it?” he squeaked, holding his breath. He couldn’t bear to face rejection; Jonah Beck did not do well with emotions, as he’s learned.

Cyrus didn’t reply for a few moments; his mind was racing a mile a minute. Jonah just sang this song? For him? Or maybe not for him? But, if it wasfor him, is was really sweet and--was he asking Cyrus out? Was this what this was?

“Jonah,” Cyrus breathed, shifting his chair closer to Jonah, “that was...incredible! I-I never knew you could sing like that! I mean, I heard you at the Open Mic, but this was so...touching,” he selected his words carefully, a blush rising, “it was great, really. I loved it,” Cyrus replied as calmly as he could.

Jonah felt his smile falter; sure, Cyrus had liked his singing, but he had chosen the song for so many other reasons, like the lyrics. “Did you--pay attention to the lyrics?” he choked out, afraid that he might cry.

In all honesty, Cyrus tried his best to focus on the lyrics, but was distracted by the fact that Jonah Beck was singing and looking at him with his adorable smile. “Lyrics? Oh, yeah, they were nice. Sweet and romantic,” he noted, his lips twitching as he broke into a small smile, “why do you ask?”

This boy had to be the most oblivious one in the world. “Because I meant them, Cyrus,” Jonah admitted, shakily moving his hand over so his and Cyrus’ pinkies were touching, “that song..I picked it for a reason. Not just because I love Dodie, which I do, but that’s beside the point,” he explained.

Cyrus noticed the sudden touch, feeling electricity zip through his whole body. Testing the waters, he slowly moved his hand until he had a few fingers on top of Jonah’s. “You did?” he squeaked, feeling all control of his emotions slip away, “so..does that mean that-”

“I like you,” Jonah finished, interlocking Cyrus’ hands with his own, something he’d wanted to do for a long time. It felt right, like their hands were made for each other like puzzle pieces. “And I wanted to show you how much I really do care about you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Cyrus,” Jonah whispered, his eyes brimming with tears.

Cyrus was already openly weeping at this point, happy tears though. He was so overcome with emotion that he could not bring himself to stop crying of form a proper sentence. His communication was reduced to excited squeaks and dopey smiles.

“So, if it wouldn’t be too much to ask,” Jonah started, his lower lip quivering as he pulled out the little grass ring he had made earlier. It was a simple braided ring tied in a neat knot at the end. “Will you be my...boyfriend?” Jonah hesitated, his voice shooting up a few octaves. He felt his blood pounding in his ears as he held out the ring. At this point, people were staring, some even had their phones out to capture the moment. If it went well, it would be a nice memory that they could post on the internet. If it went poorly, then it would become a viral video for all the wrong reasons.

Cyrus thought he was hallucinating, or that it was one of those dreams that felt real. Gingerly, he squeezed Jonah’s hand, reminding himself that this was real, in fact. That Jonah did like him and he wanted to be his boyfriend. Boyfriend . It felt so surreal that he would finally be able to use the word without including “I don’t have a” before it.

“Of course,” Cyrus managed to say, extending his hand out daintily; his hands were shaking he was so excited, so Jonah had a little trouble slipping the ring onto his finger. Cyrus admired it like it was made of diamonds, shedding a few more tears before throwing his arms around Jonah, careful not to damage the ring.

“Thank you, Jonah,” he mumbled into the other boy’s shirt, dotting it with tears.

“For what?” Jonah replied in a hushed tone, begrudgingly pulling away to face Cyrus. Interlacing their hands, he brought them up a little, like a victory salute.

“All of this. The song, the ring, the ‘boyfriend’ thing, everything. I-I love it,” Cyrus bubbled.

“You deserve it,” Jonah murmured, standing up without releasing Cyrus’ hand, “all of this, I mean. I’ve been planning this for a while, and thank goodness you didn’t figure it all out,” Jonah snickered, a small smirk coming to his face.

“Wait, what do you mean you’ve been planning this? You couldn’t have planned this. Andi and Buffy just couldn’t come so it ended up being you and me,” Cyrus stated, not a hint of realization crossing his face.

“Oblivious little fool,” Jonah joked, “you seriously didn’t catch on? I texted Andi and Buffy outside of the group chat and told them to make up some sort of excuse not to come,” he admitted bashfully, his cheeks flushing a familiar shade of pink.

“Wh-you did all that, just so we could be here alone? Why didn’t you just text me?” Cyrus asked through a giggle, swinging his boyfriend’s hand as they walked back towards the entrance of the park.

Jonah stopped in his tracks, his smile faltering at the edges. “I-I was..nervous. I didn’t want to sound weird to just text you just so we can hang and get lunch at the park,” he admitted softly, “I was...worried that you’d say no,” he finally said.

Cyrus took of of Jonah’s hands in both of his. “You really thought I’d say no to hanging out with you? Of all people? Jonah, you’re like, the greatest person I’ve ever met. Side note, don’t tell Buffy I said that,” he added with a chuckle, “but seriously. I’ve liked you for a long time; I thought I made that obvious. Guess I’m not the only oblivious one here,” he giggled, earning a weak smile from Jonah.

“Guess we’re both pretty oblivious, huh?” Jonah mustered, taking a small step towards Cyrus. Had Cyrus always had long eyelashes? Jonah hadn’t noticed till now.

“But we’re here now, and that’s all that matters. It’ll be us and only us, and what came before won’t count anymore or matter,” Cyrus hummed, pulling Jonah closer. Their noses were almost touching, their breaths shaky and warm.

“We can try that, you and me. That’s all that we need it to be. And the rest of the world falls away,” Jonah picked up the rest of the song, causing Cyrus to gasp.

“You-you know the lyrics?” he asked in astonishment, a nervous smile on his face.

“As soon as you said you liked the musical, I went out and learned all the lyrics to all the songs. Just incase I needed to do something like this,” Jonah said with a shrug, taking his free hand and bringing it behind Cyrus’ neck, making him shiver with delight.

“I couldn’t ask for anything more,” Cyrus whispered on his skin, his eyes crinkling from his dopey grin.

“How about a kiss?” Jonah suggested, tilting his head slightly. “Can we try that? You and me?”

“That’s all that I need it to be,” Cyrus hummed in response, closing the gap between him and Jonah. This is how a kiss should feel, Cyrus thought, comparing it to the one with Iris. This one didn’t even compare. After a few euphoric moments, Jonah pulled away for air; perhaps if he’d chosen to play the flute like Cyrus, he might have better air control.

“Wow,” they whispered simultaneously, dissolving into a fit of giggles afterwards.

“Cyrus?” Jonah asked after a few moments of silence.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Cyrus replied, taking his boyfriend’s hand and locking their fingers together.

“I’m glad it’s only us.”

“Me too.”

#jyrus #jyrus fanfic #jyrus fanfiction #theodora talks #andi mack #andi mack fanfic #andi mack fanfiction #jyrus fic #andi mack fic #jonah beck #cyrus goodman #please reblog!#buffy driscoll #deh #dear evan hansen #only us #dodie clark

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birdiethebibliophile · 7 years

Text

{fic} Bright-Eyed and Bushy-Tailed (part 2)

Word Count: 2.5k Relationship: Lucien/Cassian Characters: Lucien, Cassian, Rhysand, Feyre Warnings: Depression, PTSD, also just a lot of regular Sadness, Abuse

Here on AO3.

__________________

Cassian had made Lucien exchange cell numbers with him before Feysand got back. So far he was very nearly regretting it – despite Lucien’s obvious skill as a photographer, he kept sending Cassian blurry pictures of guys lifting weights at the gym with the caption is this u.

But finally, Cassian had a chance to use number as he’d intended.

When should I pick u up? he texted to Lucien bright and early Monday morning.

id hopd ud forgotten about that he got back five minutes later. He was surprised Lucien had responded so fast – he’d expected him to be asleep, as any sensible person should be at the god-awful hour at which Cassian awoke.

Nope, sorry. What time?

He was still waiting for Lucien’s reply when his 6am Tai Chi class started to trickle in, so he put his phone in his bag. Once he’d waved all the businesspeople too hipster to do yoga out the door nearly an hour later, he grabbed it again, expecting a text from a few minutes after his own. Cassian frowned when there was no message notification on his phone. He decided to give Lucien the benefit of the doubt. For now.

But by eleven he was done with that nonsense.

If u don’t tell me what time 2 pick u up I’m going 2 come and park outside ur house.

He grinned as his phone pinged not five minutes later: come by at 1 tmrw. u suk.

Cassian grinned. ;) See u at 1.

At exactly one o’clock, Cassian pulled up in front of the apartment complex. I’m here, he texted.

cant be. all i see is the ugliest ass truck iv ever seen.

Cassian decided, in lieu of texting back, to lay on the horn.

Almost immediately, the door flew open, and Lucien practically fell down the stairs in his rush to get to the truck. Before he got in, he went over to the driver’s side and pounded on the roof. “Cut it out, you ass.”

Cassian released the horn and rolled down the window. “Happy to see me?”

“Shut up,” Lucien grumbled. He went around to the passenger side, wrenched open the door, and flung himself into the seat.

“So, where are we going?” Cassian asked, starting up the truck.

“Just start driving. I’ll tell you where to turn.”

“We going to a strip club, Lu? Because I gotta say, I’m all out of singles,” Cassian said, glancing over with a grin. “Also, put your seatbelt on.”

“You’re not my mom.”

“Yeah, but I’m driving, and I’m not moving until your seatbelt is on.”

“God, Cass.” But Lucien buckled himself in. “There. Happy?”

“Yep,” Cassian said cheerfully.

“Take a right at the first light.” Lucien settled back into the seat, staring out the side window.

“Gotcha.” Cassian tapped the steering wheel lightly. “So. You were up early today.”

“So were you.”

“Yeah, but I’m up early every day.” Now that Lucien was sitting next to him, Cassian could see that the other man looked paler than he had before, his golden-brown skin pasty, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Lucien muttered.

“Well, as I said, I’m always up early, so… if you ever need someone to talk to…” Cassian ventured. “I teach a class at six, so I’m usually up at four-thirty or five.”

“Take a right on Aspen,” Lucien said. “Then get on the freeway going east. You don’t want to talk to me at five in the morning, trust me.”

Cassian turned onto the on-ramp. “Pssh. All I do from when I get up until the class is shower and drink a smoothie.”

“A smoothie.” Lucien’s voice dripped with incredulity and sarcasm.

“Hey, what do you have against smoothies?”

“Nothing. I love smoothies. I just thought you’d be the guy that eats, like, a pound of bacon a day.” He leaned over and ran a finger down Cassian’s forearm. “I wouldn’t think you get like this from smoothies.”

Cassian’s face warmed. “I usually grab breakfast at the café on 15th,” he said. “That’s where the bacon comes in.”

“Never been.” Lucien turned back to the window.

“Great hashbrowns, fresh orange juice. Coffee so strong it’ll take the roof off your mouth. You should come sometime – I know Rhys’s coffee is shit.”

Lucien snorted. “Yeah, tasted it once, never again. I think he and Feyre get Starbucks most days. Must be nice.”

Cassian glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

“To have the money to get a five-dollar latte every morning,” Lucien said, a bitter note in his voice.

“Yeah…” Cassian let out a brief breath. “I get you there.”

“You’re going to want to take Exit 285,” Lucien said. Then, unbidden, “I don’t have a fucking penny.”

Cassian didn’t respond. There was that tension to Lucien again that told him not to ask questions.

“Not a fucking one.” Lucien leaned over further and laid his cheek against the window. “Tamlin always just paid for everything… if Feyre and Rhysand decide they don’t want me living with them anymore, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“Shit, man,” Cassian said. Lucien’s voice had gone very soft again. “You can always crash at my place.”

“Thanks,” Lucien said. “I just… God. I hate him.”

“Tamlin?” Cassian asked.

Lucien didn’t respond. “Here,” he said. “Exit here…”

Cassian shifted gears as he headed in the direction Lucien indicated. He waited for Lucien to resume, but he didn’t, just continued giving directions.

“We’re here.”

Cassian looked at the sign: St. Joseph Medical Center. Then he looked at Lucien. The other man’s back was hunched, and he was steadfastly not looking at Cassian. Or getting out of the car.

“Lu?” Cassian asked quietly.

“I come here for therapy three times a week,” Lucien said after a moment.

“Depression?”

Lucien nodded, eyes still downcast. “And PTSD.”

Cassian nodded as well. “Want me to walk you in?”

“No, I… I’m good.”

“How long? I can stay here.”

“About half an hour. You sure?”

“Totally.” He opened the glove compartment and pulled out a paperback. “I keep trashy novels in here for exactly this kind of situation.”

“All right. If you’re sure.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure. Get your skinny ass out of the car,” Cassian said with a grin.

A smile ghosted over Lucien’s face. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll… be back soon.” He slipped out of the truck.

Cassian watched until the clinic doors shut behind him.

“So. How’d it go?” Cassian closed his book and tossed it into the backseat.

“Fine.”

Cassian waited, but that was all Lucien said. “You sure?”

He closed his eyes. “Yeah.”

Cassian started the truck. “Seatbelt,” he said. “I’m taking you to that café.”

Lucien buckled in without opening his eyes. “I’m not hungry.”

“Well, I am, and my next class doesn’t start for an hour,” Cassian said, pulling out of the parking lot. “Also… feel free to tell me to fuck off, but are there any triggers I should know about?”

Lucien let out a soft sigh. “Yelling. Things… breaking.”

Cassian’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Anything else?” he said. “Or… anything that helps when…” He trailed off.

“Talking softly helps,” Lucien said. “Um…” He almost seemed embarrassed. “Don’t… don’t touch my face unless I say so, but the backs of my hands are okay.”

“I’ll remember that,” Cassian said.

Neither of them said another word until Cassian pulled into the café parking lot.

He opened the truck door, then paused. “You don’t have to come in,” he said. “If you don’t want to.”

“What, and miss seeing whether this place lives up to your hype? Not a chance,” Lucien said.

“I’m buying you a cup of coffee, then. Since I insisted on dragging you here.”

Lucien hesitated for a second, discomfort written on his face, then nodded. “I’d like that, actually,” he said.

“I bet a drink would help more, but two is a little early for alcohol, so coffee will have to do,” Cassian said.

“I owe you,” Lucien said. “First you drive me across town, and now –”

“Hey.” Cassian interrupted, putting a hand on his arm. “You don’t owe me anything. Friends can do favors for each other. No debts, no bargains. Okay?”

“I thought we weren’t friends.” But Cassian could hear something fragile in Lucien’s voice under the veneer of snark.

“Too bad,” Cassian said bracingly, swinging out of the truck. “Apparently we are now.”

“God.” Lucien dropped to the ground. “You’re so…”

“Charming? Annoying? Awe-inspiring? Sexy?”

Lucien flushed. “…nice.”

Cassian felt a lurching in the pit of his stomach. The fact that Lucien felt a need to comment on that, when all Cassian was doing was driving him to an appointment and paying a dollar fifty for a cup of coffee… “That’s me,” he said. “Nice. Rhys might say nauseatingly so.”

“I don’t blame him there.” Lucien followed him into the café, looking around with a raised eyebrow. “Nice place.”

“I know you’re being sarcastic, and I don’t care,” Cassian said, sliding into a booth by the window. “Hey, Janine.”

“Hey, Cassian.” The waitress who’d headed over as soon as they walked in the door set two cups on the table and filled them with coffee. “The usual?”

“Yep. How’s the sourdough today?”

“Even if I said it was moldy, you would still order it,” Janine accused.

“Called out,” Cassian admitted. “Take it easy on the toaster this time. My friend here has a sensitive palate.”

“You got it.” The waitress winked at him, then headed back to the kitchen.

“Cream and sugar?” Cassian asked Lucien.

“I told you I wasn’t hungry,” Lucien said grumpily. “…Just sugar.”

Cassian stirred a spoonful of sugar into Lucien’s coffee and pushed it across the table. “I know. They burn my toast every time. I thought maybe that would get them not to.”

Lucien studied his surroundings. “My eyes are bleeding. I’ve never seen so much linoleum and blue-and-white check in my life. How do you stand it?”

“Are you kidding? This place is the best. All the fun of the fifties without the racism.” Cassian grinned as he dumped half the jug of cream into his coffee.

“Good thing. Neither of us would be allowed to be here in the fifties.”

Cassian lifted his eyebrows. “I bet you could get in, with all that pretty hair. And then you could sneak me in.”

Lucien looked Cassian over from head to foot, slowly enough that Cassian took a hasty gulp of his coffee. “Sneak you in. Sure. Sounds doable. It’s not like you stand out or anything, after all.”

“Okay, yeah, that probably wouldn’t work,” Cassian agreed. “So let’s just enjoy the fact that you don’t have to smuggle me in under your coat like a watch dealer.”

Lucien choked on his coffee. “A what?”

“You know, when the guy opens his coat, and he’s like, ‘hey, buddy, wanna buy a watch?’”

“Cassian?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I know I am, but what are you? Thanks, Janine,” Cassian added as the waitress slid a plate in front of him.

“You want a warmup, hon?” Janine asked Lucien, tapping her coffeepot.

“Oh – thank you,” Lucien said, letting her refill his cup.

“’Course. Any friend of Cassian’s is a friend of mine,” she said with a wink.

“We’re not friends,” Lucien said weakly as Janine walked away.

“Don’t mind her,” Cassian said, digging into his food with almost indecent enthusiasm. “She means well.”

“I don’t,” Lucien said, and he shifted slightly in his chair. “Mind her, that is.”

Cassian followed Lucien’s gaze to his plate. “You sure you don’t want any?” he asked.

“Well… I wouldn’t say no to a piece of that toast,” Lucien said, biting his lip. “And a few of the mushrooms, maybe.”

A smile blossomed on Cassian’s face in spite of himself. “Here – give me your saucer.” He took the dish and piled it high with mushrooms, balancing a piece of toast on top. “There might be some residual bacon grease – hope you don’t mind.”

“Not really. It’s just meat itself I don’t like.” Lucien pulled the plate back towards him.

“Can’t say I relate, but okay,” Cassian said, licking his fork clean. “You can have an egg, too, if you want. I have three.”

“Ugh. Fine,” Lucien said. “But I’m using my own fork after what you’ve done to that one.”

“What – this?” Cassian licked the fork again, more slowly.

Color rose sharply in Lucien’s cheeks. “Ass,” he said, stabbing one of Cassian’s eggs and transferring it to his saucer.

“I should start a swear jar,” Cassian said. “That’s at least the third time you’ve said that today alone.”

“Only if I can start a filthy innuendo jar,” Lucien snapped, spearing a mushroom with unwonted venom.

“I bet I can fill my jar before you do,” Cassian challenged.

Lucien groaned. “Not another bet. Rhys said that if I spent any more of the allowance he’s giving me on, quote, ‘idiotic bets with my idiotic brother,’ he’d cut it off.” It was clearly a joke – Cassian knew that – and yet…

“It really bothers you, doesn’t it?” Cassian said quietly. “That you have to rely on them like that.”

Lucien concentrated on cutting a mushroom into halves, then quarters, then eighths. “They’re being so generous to me. More than I deserve, that’s for sure, after the shit I let Tamlin do to Feyre. But sometimes…” Cassian sat quietly, letting him gather his thoughts. “Sometimes, it just feels like a transfer of prisons. I don’t have to worry about –” He cut off. “– about a lot of things anymore, but my life still… isn’t my own.”

Cassian nodded. “How so?” he asked quietly.

Lucien set his fork and knife down with a soft clink. “I have to rely on them for everything. I have no car, no money, no job. No… nothing.”

Cassian heard in that I am nothing, and his heart twisted.

He’d been right, the other day, about two things: first, that it was indeed like Lucien was Feyre’s and Rhys’s child, or at least that they thought of him that way. And second…

Lucien didn’t just look like he should be stuck in a tower. He was.

“What would you need?”

“What?” Lucien looked up, and his good eye was dull, the russet-brown of the iris hooded in shadow.

“What would you need to feel like your life was your own?”

Lucien stared at him for a second, then blinked. “I… don’t know.”

“I think you do,” Cassian said quietly. Challenging him – pushing him just enough. At least, that’s what he hoped.

Lucien took a small bite of the food before him, chewing mechanically. “I guess the first thing would be to have a job,” he said at length. “An income. And… maybe a bank account of my own.”

Cassian felt hot anger roil in his stomach for the first time (though somehow he doubted it would be the last), along with the thought that he wanted to kill Tamlin. But he pushed it aside. That wasn’t important right now. “And you think that would help?”

“…Yeah. I think it might,” Lucien said softly.

“Then I’ll help you find a job,” Cassian said. Then he grinned. “In fact, I already have an idea…”

#acomaf #acomaf fanfiction #lucien #cassian #lucien x cassian #mine #fic

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