#is that why you said 'good morning beautiful' and then fucking ghosted for 2 days a week ago??
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#the irony of a man that i was maaaaaad heart eyes over 6 months ago now saying he's scared of me and 'i'm a broken man. life has been really#rough on me for the last year and i am in no position to be falling for someone right now. but you're just so dope that it's really hard not#to.' ....... BROTHER i am heartbroken and reeling over the guy that was just supposed to be a distraction from you#and now even with our minimal communication you wanna say you're falling for me??? ooooookay. and also like??#is that why you said 'good morning beautiful' and then fucking ghosted for 2 days a week ago??#like :-) idk if this is your newest scheme to get your dick wet but baby i aint about it you're not getting sympathy pussy from me#also just??? this the third man in the last year to say he's scared of me and im like??? are yall genuinely scared of me and do you actually#fear me or is it that you fear the way i make you feel#bc if u tell me i scare you my brain automatically goes into 'i'm doing something wrong/i'm too much' mode#but if you're scared or the intensity of emotions i bring you#or the possibility of getting hurt. say that. bc i rly dont want to be not do i think i am a scary girly#i may occasionally talk big but i am rly just a softie sweetie lover girl#pls if you say i scare u i immediately imagine myself as the demon under your bed and i dont want to be her
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“Dobro jutro,ljubi.” “Dobro jutro,sonček.”
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Gene: Pure tooth-rotting *FLUFF*
Summery: Just a glimpse of what a normal lazy morning looks like 4 the husbands ever,except it’s their half-year anniversary N after some reminiscing,Jan decides 2 ask his now boyfriend of half a year if he still remembers the morning after they became official,and boy does Nace remember~
Disclaimer: *All* of this is completely fictional and im not associating this with the real people whatsoever,I just like using these silly lil pretty Balkan men as my Barbie dolls,the moment either of them say their uncomfortable with fanfic im deleting the whole thing,k.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*🐈⬛🐕*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
This was it.By now it had been almost a whole year since Martin brought *him* to meet the boys,the man who would replace one of his best friends all so they could keep making music.Jan knew why he had to leave yet it still stung to say goodbye when Martin had been through basically *everything* with the band till now.But what Jan didn’t know back then,no matter how much he believed logic would *always* triumph over love,was that “the new Martin” would end up proving only *sometimes* logic can triumph over love,*especially* when it comes to his now boyfriend and bassist,*Nace Jordan.*
Which is how he found himself here,snuggled up in Nace’s bed with an arm wrapped securely yet ever so gently around his slightly smaller frame,Ollie curled up near his legs and snoring just as loudly as a *certain* brunette who had a tendency of reminding him of the small creature sometimes.He slowly awoke to the sound of a familiar yawn which could only come from one person,the one who had been sleeping beside and stayed with him through every rough night for *months* now,and hopefully forever when he can finally afford to go ring shopping,only the best for *his* Nacko afterall and nothing less.
Nace tossed onto his side so he could see that perpetually half asleep face he’d come to adore so *so* much,when said face asked him a question along the lines of:
“Do you still remember the morning after we became..*this*?” Jan said to him,voice still raspy from sleep ,using his finger to point at himself than Nace.
“You mean the morning after we fucked eachother’s brains out in some dingy club bathroom while the rest of the boys were shitfaced drunk N doing god knows what then you told me the first time we saw eachother you forget how to *breath*.” he chuckled which also elected a giggle out of Jan,a sound he would *love* to keep in a jar and listen to on repeat when he has a off day.
“Forgetting how 2 breath wasn’t the first thing I did when we met,you know.”
“Then what was?”
“How to think after I saw ur tattoo sleeve up close for the first time during one of our first gigs together,you had *no* idea what that did to me back then.” slowly tracing along the ink that adorned his boyfriends arm,all away to his shoulder as he planted a kiss on one of the last ink covered patches on the others skin.
“Buttt I do now,alot actually.”
“How so?” Nace pulled him closer and whispered the answer into his ear,breath ghosting slightly over his lobe,making a small smile tug at his lips.
“Cause of all the bite marks and hickeys I always find scattered on them the next morning~” it was Jan’s turn to laugh now when Nace started to place a trail of kisses down his ear.watching the tips go a dark shade of red which always looked good when he was the one wearing it.
“Not like you can really blame me tho,tattoos are hot as fuck *especially* when they belong to my extremely sexy and beautiful boyfriend!” he cupped the boyfriends in questions face in his hands and just *admired* him till Nace spoke again.
“And who’s that?” Nace questioned as if he didn’t know who he belonged to.
“You.” were the only words that came out of Jan’s mouth before he kissed him,slow but it was one of the sweetest kisses he’d ever given,that’s only natural when ur man’s a literal *angel* with the softest lips known to man afterall.
Tho it stared off as a innocent “good morning /wake up kiss” which *may* have led to a full on makeout session,both men stayed like that for awhile,only breaking the kiss so they could get some air in their lungs,gently pressing their foreheads together and staring into the others eyes for what could have been an eternity,not like either of them would mind of course.
“Dubro jutro,ljubi.”
“Dubro jutro,sonček.”
And if Jan and Nace from half a year ago knew this is what that faithful day where Martin brought him into the studio to the boys would lead to,maybe getting a new bassist wasn’t the worst idea in the world afterall~
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*💜❤️*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
(BIG BIG TY 2 ONE OF MY FAVE MOOTS @da-proti-toku-grem 4 ANSWERING MY ASK EARLIER N GETTING MY MOTIVATION 2 WRITE BACK INTO GEAR N HELPING WITH LAST MIN NERVES B4 POSTING!! 🥹🫶🥹🫶🥹🫶🥹🫶🥹🫶 ur truly such.a.f4n.*SWEETHEART* N I hope one day I can be just as good of a writer as U are! I fr always start kicking my feet N twirling my hair when I see U in my inbox,seeing the lil notification with ur user *ALWAYS* makes my day better + U were one of the first blogs i started following N was a huge idol of mine back when I was a lurker!! X33 luv ya Maca ,4 aslong as we have the boys and 4ever <3333333333)
#first time writing a fic N how the *F4* do U guys do this 😭😭#just wanted 2 write smh fluffy 4 the husbands cuz they deserve 2 live a happy life were everything’s perfect N nothing hurts :3#also cuz im *STARVING* 4 Jance flavoured fluff N if I have 2 write it myself then so be it! ☺️☺️#big juicy and Jan je bog#joker out#nace jordan#jan peteh#jance#fanfic#I lobe them sm it’s not even *fair* anymore :’33
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Every even number for the oc ask.
Aight, bet. Let's do this!
2. which oc has never had their first kiss?
I mean, until the times that it does happen in their stories: Yves, Eloise, and Amelie.
4. which oc can cook? what’s their favorite thing to cook? Amelie can make a really good souffle, and Gretchen is an alright cook. (I'll throw Modern Day AU Eloise in here as well bc homegirl can bake in that AU. Her cookies are to die for.)
6. which oc prefers to dip someone? to be dipped? Those Dipping: Yves, Gretchen Those Being Dipped: Eloise, Amelie, Genevieve
8. which oc prefers flowing clothes? tight clothes? Eloise in any and all incarnations loves and rocks a flowy skirt. Amelie and T are both tight clothes wearers. Amelie just happens to have more loose clothes bc of her figure, but she loves a bodycon dress, and there isn't enough pvc in the world to amass to how much is in T's wardrobe.
10. which oc is the biggest romantic? Eloise :) the symbol I always associate with her is a heart for this reason.
12. what oc is the best at dealing with stress? how do they deal with it? Yves. He's been stressed for the better part of his whole life and tells himself that he has bigger things to worry about. Amelie is bad coping mechanisms central™️ but when you have the fast paced life of a model, it's very easy to be in high stress situations and just push through em by telling yourself that you are beautiful and unstoppable! (Even if you don't believe it yourself!)
14. which oc makes their bed every morning? which one thinks it’s a waste of time? Amelie is the bed maker. It's part of her routine and she sticks to said routine for a good part of her story. Genevieve is definitely also a bed maker. Pretty much the rest of my OCs fall under the "why make the bed if nobody is coming over?" or "I was in too busy of a rush because I operate last minute" categories.
16. which oc has the most admirers? Amelie, and she has them wrapped around her fingers.
18. which oc cried during the lion king and SWEARS they didn’t? The only non AU character that could be an answer for this is T, and she's not a cry at movies kind of gal, so I will answer this with modern day AU Eloise instead.
20. which oc gets crushes the easiest? To be honest? None of em. If I had to choose ONE, it would be Majorie.
22. which oc likes to read to their partner? which oc prefers being read to? In their main comic: Amelie reads to Gretchen. AU-wise: Eloise reads to Yves (tbh the two of them make me think about that one post that's like "My boyfriend was eating sausage while reading the Wikipedia page for sausage")
24. which oc hates the taste of water? Gretchen and T for sure. Dehydrated as fuck.
26. what is your oc’s favorite art movement* This one is hard because I don't really know if any of them would have one. Amelie and T do be the types to like expressionism and surrealism though, as well as contemporary art.
28. which oc would start a podcast? what would it be about? T would have a podcast where she rants about stuff. Possibly another one where she covers stuff about the goth subculture ala Cemetery Confessions.
30. which oc dresses the best? the worst? Y'all already know Amelie should be called ranch cause she be dressing. Worst? Yves since his clothes are usually filthy and stained.
32. which ocs believe in ghosts? Yves and Eloise for sure thanks to Genevieve. Amelie and T love paranormal shenanigans so, them too.
34. which oc is chronically online? None of em. Pretty much all of my OCs punched out their life timecard before the term "chronically online" existed. Except for T, but she does other things besides stare at a screen so I don't count her as chronically online.
36. which oc has the best skin care routine?Amelie, of course. Takes a lot of time to look so good, after all.
38. drop a fun fact about your oc!* Yves and Eloise have beautiful singing voices, and Amelie has two first names, making her full name: Amelie-Amelia Beatrix DeLorne
40. if all your ocs were to get into a giant, mcu style fight, who would win? If we aren't counting AU versions: it's a tossup between T and Gretchen. If we are counting them, you can possibly add Yves to the mix. (Maybe not against Gretchen but he could definitely fight T and win by dumb luck or have it end in a draw.)
(Thank you so much for this I had an absolute blast answering these!! 🖤)
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hi hi hi!! I have a request!! I feel like I rarely see tokyo revengers hc’s where the reader isn’t submissive and sweet and is actually kinda aggressive and dominant and lowkey a little bit scary??? Like unpredictable might make them beg for attention and love or might put them in the hospital nobody rly knows 👀 I’m thinking bonten?? Maybe others?? Idk u pick hehehe
TR Boys with an aggressive s/o
Oml yessss I agree there’s never enough dominant reader stuff!!
Hope this is okay :)
You have no idea how fast I went to my notes
This is a long one can’t lie n it was written at 2 in the morning so be warned
Warnings: drug mention, murder, blood, little bit of a graphic description, sexual reference, light emotional abuse/manipulation maybe, lots of swearing from reader.
18+ themes.
Bonten: Mikey, Haitanis, Kakucho, Koko, Sanzu.
Mikey-
* Ngl I hc that you and Mikey met after you picked a fight with Sanzu
* Like he tried to shoot you n you smacked him round the head with the first heavy object you could find
* Mans out cold
* But Mikey saw it happen, ignored his passed out second in command
* Walks over to you n straight up says he wants you
* “Are you deluded you fuckin’ creep?”
* You’re having none of his bullshit getting ready to beat his arse with the object too
* He’s hooked ngl
* He decides to play it off as if he wants you to join Bonten not to be his s/o
* You’re still throwing curses at him n sneering at his offer
* He tells you that you have 2 days to decided nd to meet him back at the place you laid sanzu out
* Cut to 2 days later when he shows up to the area only to see you stood over one bloody body and another one with a lead pipe about to hit his head
* Safe to say you agree as long as you get to do what you want
* Mikey takes you to meet the Bonten executives
* Ran n Rin think you’re “the bees knees” as Ran said cue Rin wanting to unalive him
* Koko thinks you need a therapist
* You scare Mochi he’s like ‘wtf is this demon flinging a knife around for’
* Kaku wants you as far away as possible from him at all times also thinks you’re gonna kill his boss eventually
* Sanzu wants to kill you 🥰
* Takeomi is indifferent as always
* Takes you a good few months to warm up to any of them Koko being the first then the Haitanis
* Mikey practically begs for attention 23/7 (gotta have that extra hour for a snack break ofc)
* He’ll come and stand in your office door until you look at him, which ofc takes a long time for both of you
* He will never make physical contact though
* You eventually get sick of the strange game you’re playing and take matters into your own hands
* You walk into his office one night when you know Sanzu is out
* Mikeys pretending to look through some documents but is actually just swivelling his chair around
* When you walk towards him his eyes track every move you make
* You grab the back of his chair and twist it towards you, leaning over him you grab his chin to angel it up and sneer down at him
* “Did you want some fucking attention? That why you keep bothering me every day? Eh you want my attention, pretty boy?”
* Even depressed mikey.exe has stopped working
* Ghosting your hand down to grip his neck you climb into his lap
* Settling in you lean towards his ear and whisper
* “Better make it worth my effort pretty boy, or I’ll put you in a casket <3”
Ran-
* This man is obsessed form the get-go
* 100% asks you to step on him at some point
* Meets you through a business that the Haitanis own
* He first sees you looking all Smiley a outside a club until some guys hit on you and your friends
* Cue two seconds later when your smile drops and so does one of them men
* He then witnesses the most beautiful person he’s ever seen curb stomp a man until blood is gushing out of his nose and eyebrow
* Proceeds to have you and your friends ushered into the club and you then escorted to a private room where he walks in two minutes later
* You’re sat very relaxed yet your face shows you’re disgust and anger
* Arms crossed tightly over your chest you give him a once over and tsk at his smirk
* “Wipe that look of your face you sack of shit, I ain’t afraid of Bonten or your lanky ass.”
* He’s shocked that you know who he’s with and it shows on his face
* “Are you dumb or something? You’ve got the pissing tattoo right slap bang on the front of your neck like a goddamn calling card. You look like a twat.”
* It’s official he’s in love
* Tells you that he’s sorted everything out and the police won’t be coming for you
* You don’t seem to care remotely tho and don’t even thank him for his effort
* You get up and go to leave but the tall Haitani steps in the way
* “I want you to work for me.”
* You laugh in his face
* Then suddenly he’s eye level with you, his eyes blown wide from the force of your yank on his tie
* “I’ll fucking kill you, you piece of shit. Who said you could get involved in my business I don’t give two fucks what the cops wanna do let em come.”
* Unlike Mikey he doesn’t give you time to decide he just shows up at bothers you for a week after
* You proceed to put him in hospital with a stab wound to the abdomen
* Kudos to the guy tho it just makes him want you more
* He doesn’t beg for attention he demands it
* I mean you did stab him
* He wears down your defences after a few months and manages to get your gremlin ass to go on a date with him
* Where you also threaten to beat the waiter with a chair if he doesn’t get Ran some goddamn sauce for his steak
* “Excuse me, I’m going to marry you ya know, doll?”
* “Tf you are you lanky ass cockroach”
* You terrify Rindo when he meets you for the first time
Rindo-
* Opposite of his big brother
* He thinks you’re a bitch
* Wants nothing to do with you when Mikey and Sanzu introduce you as a new member
* Watches you one two many times beat the ever loving crap out of fully grown men and enjoy it
* Sees when you put Sanzu in hospital with a bullet wound when he pops a pill in your drink
* Starts getting feelings the first time he sees you smile at a kitten though
* Catches himself smiling when you throw a knife at his brothers head (you missed thank god)
* Falls in love when he feels your backs hit together during a fight where you’re both outnumbered by a mile
* He remembers the first time he felt scared of you like it was yesterday
* You’d got so caught up in a fight and ended up beating two men to death
* He had gone to pull you off a third and you’d pinned him down ready to rain blow after blow down
* You got two hits in before Kaku tackled you off him
* Took you about 5 minutes to come back to your senses but by then the dye had been cast
* Rin couldn’t decide if he hated you or loved you for a good few months
* I think you’d have to be the one to come and speak to him first
* He’s one stubborn man
* When you confront him again you were planning to be calm but he pissed you off by ignoring you so you lashed out and screamed at him
* “Who the fuck do you think you’re ignoring Rindo?! Fucking speak to me or I’ll fucking stab you!”
* He’s sick of your bullshit
* “Yeh? You wanna stab me bitch? Go right ahead, can’t believe I fuckin love you, crazy little monster.”
* He just leans back in his chair and unbuttons his suit jacket, links his hands behind his head, crosses his legs and smirks at your shocked face
* Leaves you silent for once
* You stalk over to him
* Stab your knife into his desk
* And practically throw yourself into his lap before grinning and wrapping your hands around his neck
* “I’m definitely going to kill you eventually. <3”
* “Yeh yeh sure you are, crazy.”
Kaku-
* This man has the patience of a saint he dealt with Izana and South for Christ sake
* He gives you free reign of whatever you want
* You wanna beat someone up? Go right ahead darling he’ll watch
* You want to turn your snake tongue on him? Sure he’ll just act interest and ignore it anyway
* You want to actually fight him tho? Definitely not he’ll never raise a hand to you, you’ll be pinned before you can land one
* Doesn’t remember how he met you he just knows you were there one day nd you haven’t left since
* He fell for you when he saw you crouched next to a hurt child trying to comfort them even though you looked constipated and uncomfortable
* Approaches you a lot calmer than the others
* You’re definitely confused when there’s a constant looming shadow standing over you
* You could even be fighting and this guys stood right behind you watching and intimidating your opponent
* “Uh do you mind pissin off you overgrown spaghetti noodle.”
* He’s like tf I’m just looking out for you
* Proceeds to knock your opponent out in one blow
* You’re having none of this shit
* “Do you need some sense knocking into you motherfucker? That was mine get away you- you… just fuck off will you!”
* His unwavering stare definitely flusters you a bit
* Does this stop you from going to hit him? Definitely not
* He catches your fist mid air and pulls it above your head
* “Stop it y/n. I’m looking out for you it’s my job.”
* You have no dominance over this man can’t change my mind on this
* Even you glaring daggers at him doesn’t work
* A glare that has even the Haitanis looking uncomfortable
* Nothing you’re angry little self does bothers him
* He likes to pat your head when you do something well
* He definitely works on making you start to rely on him
* You have no idea how you ended up in his apartment me day but hey here you are
* Waking up in Kakuchos bed was not on your agenda today
* You try to sneak out but he’s in the kitchen
* “Don’t run away little one. Nothing happened I just put you to bed.”
* You find out someone tried to kill you because of a grudge
* Kaku found you before they could really do any damage
* Don’t ask what happened to them he won’t tell you ever
* He ‘handled it’ that’s all you need to know
* “You know I’ll alway be at your back, y/n. But I want to be selfish right now, please only look at me.”
* Stfu pretty boy
* “No. I wanted to tell you first, take it back!”
* You’ve successfully confused the man
* He’s like tf you want me to take back my confession so you can confess first?
* No
* Cue n argument that ends in you tackling him to the ground
* Y/n: 0 Kaku:1
* You’re dumb if you think this man didn’t want you pinning him to the ground
* “Okay tell me you love me then,little one.”
* “I- who’s said anything about that? I’m saying you’re mine. Don’t look at anyone other than me, Kakucho.”
Kokonoi-
* No <3
* He wants absolutely nothing to do with the feral gremlin that the Haitanis brought along
* Looks down his nose at you for a while ngl
* That is until you jump into a fight to help him
* Your “Get your fucking hands off him!” Gets all of his attention
* He was so sure he’d never be interested in anyone after Akane but here you are
* He wants all your attention now
* Shows up with random gifts claiming he had to buy it to get money off his other purchase
* Like ofc Koko those custom nuckle dusters definitely got you money off your new Armani suit didn’t they
* You better use them
* Cocky little shit will tell everyone in Bonten
* “You see those new toys they have? I get them cost me xxxx amount.”
* Likes to rest his arm behind your chair at Bonten meetings
* Ofc you’re made to sit with him now not the Haitanis
* Hates seeing you around Sanzu after your two had an altercation
* You confront him one day
* With Koko pinned against the wall in front of you knife at his throat
* He’s still smirking at you though
* “What the ever loving fuck do you think you’re doing Hajime? You tryna get me to hurt you? I will ya know stop buying me shit and stop bothering me. You got something to say then say it, bitch!”
* So aggressive
* He lives for it
* Kinda wants you to hit him he can’t lie
* Masochist at heart
* “Sure sweetheart I have something to say. What size is your ring finger? What size diamond do you want?”
* Sir I think you’ve skipped a few chapters
* “Hmm I want the most expensive one you can find.”
* “Done.”
* Like no they don’t actually mean it silly man
* “Koko? Can you like stop for two fuckin seconds. I’m not marrying you, haven’t even taken me on a fuckin date.”
* Cue the two of you sat at the best restaurant he owns *ahem* “knows”
* One of the waitresses that takes your orders keeps batting her basic ass lashes at Koko right in front of you
* “Bitch are you fucking blind? Want me to cut your eyelids off so you can see better? I’ll fuck you up if you keep staring at my man. Get the fuck away.”
* Proud boy moment
* He’s grinning at you
* Turns to the bitch and literally shoos her away
* “You heard my darling get your basic ass away from us.”
* He’s a cocky little shit for the next few weeks
* Insists on matching outfits
* So fucking pricey
* Also buys you a necklace with his name encrusted in diamonds
* This is now the most expensive thing you own
* You have to wear it or he’ll probably throw a silent hissy fit
* “Koko if you ever look at anyone else I’ll peel your skin off with a cheese grater <3”
* This man is so quick to be like ‘okay baby. Anything you want’
* Sanzu thinks it’s hilarious
* “I still need to know what ring you want angel.”
Sanzu-
* Doesn’t even notice you’re scaring people
* Thinks you’re great
* Makes you go on missions with him 24/7
* Takes Mikey telling him that you’re way too aggressive for him to realise
* Does this make him want to get rid of you? Hell no
* He starts watching you a lot more
* He enjoys letting you take control of interrogations just so he can see you in your element
* King of hype
* “Yesss baby you pull that guys nails! Ooo good hit y/n/n~ You look so pretty covered in blood.”
* Freaks you out at first so instead of getting aggressive with the drugged up man with a gun you avoid him
* Well you try
* He pops up wherever you go
* He definitely begs for attention
* “Y/nnn look at meeee. Babyyyy I got us matching knives, yours has my name on it and mine has yours!!”
* Way too excited
* You’re pretty sure he already thinks your dating
* Kicks up a massive fuss when he hears you’re going on a mission with Rindou
* Poor baby just wants to go with you
* Personally think he’s the type to sit on the floor next your chair ,if you’re sat at sofas instead of the meeting table, and lay his head in your lap for attention when you get back
* He wants to make random physical contact with you
* Plays with your hands when you try to hit him
* Let’s you hit him sometimes
* Tbh I think if you’re ever physically fighting and he manages to pin your wiggling body he will bite you no lie
* This dude seems feral enough to just bite randomly
* Stuns you for a minute
* You end up head butting him which actually nocks him out for a bit
* (Might as well have a head like Tanjiro)
* When he wakes up and sees you sat next him shouting down the phone at someone he just mutters
* “I’m so obsessed with your pretty ass. So sexy.”
* Sir stfu not the time
* You just glare at him and carry on your argument
* He just grins back and reaches his hand out to stroke your kneecap
* You end up throwing your phone at the wall in frustration
* “I hate your psycho ass Sanzu, but if you’re mine then you’re mine alone I’ll kill anyone that looks at you.”
* “Ditto baby <3”
#tokyo revengers kokonoi#Tokyo revengers#koko x reader#sanzu haruchiyo#sanzu x y/n#tokyo revengers imagines#kakucho x reader#hajime kokonoi#mikey sano#mikey x you#mikey tokyo revengers#haitani brothers#haitani ran x reader#haitani rindou x reader#rindo headcanons#ran haitani#ran haitani x reader#kakucho hitto#kakucho x you#sanzu x reader#tokyo revengers headcanons#bonten#kokonoi fluff#tokyo revengers fluff#mikey x reader#manjiro sano
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the bodyguard
— Kirishima gets assigned to be the bodyguard to one of the worlds greatest idols: you. —
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pairing: bodyguard!kirishima eijirou x idol!reader
warnings: nsfw, 18+, brat taming, authority kink, spanking, blowjob, slapping, choking, brat taming, brat!reader, modern!au, no quirks, bodyguard!kirishima, idol!reader, PTSD portrayal, anxiety, war flashbacks, implied minor character death, drugging, alcohol consumption, size difference: kirishima is 2 feet taller than you, regardless of the reader’s original height. If you’re 6 ft congrats he’s 8 ft.
word count: 20,500
a/n: this is for the bnharem collab.... im so sorry, it’s 4:30 am and I have a plane to catch in 2 hours to get back to school. thank you jo for proofreading this for me because lol I am a mess. if the paragraph spacing did not work as I wish it does, please let me know so I can go in and edit in visible paragraph spacers!
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“I’ll be okay.”
The smell of dirt, sweat, and blood clung to the air.
The sun was setting, its blood-red shine illuminating against the destroyed earth, making the already bloodied soil even bloodier.
There was no telling if the land was quiet, if the reason why the world's silence was because the world just for this moment had gone silent, or if the earlier explosions were still ringing in his ears.
Kirishima sat wounded, his back pressed to the wall, his eyes wide, breathing erratic. He can’t move, can’t bother picking up the gun that lays abandoned by his knee as warm, sticky liquid spills onto his clothed knees and continues to soak the fabric of his jeans.
What had he done?
What in the fucking world had he done?!
BOOM!
Kirishima stills, his eyes stilling on the floor and looking at the clear moisture. He doesn’t need to touch his face to know it’s a combination of both sweat and tears.
His ears sing with white noise, the erratic beat of his heart, and his pained breathing.
“I’ll be okay,” the ghost taunts his mind.
But I’m not okay, Kirishima tries to speak, but knows with how his tongue is sitting like a thick dried sponge in his mouth, he won’t be able to speak. Pushing off the cold floor, flops onto his back, his arm flinging over his closed, shaken eyes until the ringing in his ear disappears into his alarm clock.
05:30.
Kirishima lays there for a bit more, his chest still heaving heavily with the weight of lead.
Inhale.
Hold.
Exhale.
Better?
No, not yet.
Kirishima runs through breathing exercises, his chest never stopping in it’s hiccuped, broken pants as his memories continue to haunt his mind. If only he was smarter, more observant, better.
“Time to get up, time to get up, time to get up,” his phone screams with his second alarm set at 06:45. The sound does what it’s intended, jolting Kirishima out of his own head. His labored breathing shallowing just enough for his lungs to finally grasp ahold of its required function.
Today was an important day for him; he needed to be on his tiptop game, according to what Toshinori said yesterday.
I’m okay, he convinced himself as he does every morning after having this dream. Kirishima flings his arm off his eyes, the morning purple sun shining softly through his blinds. I’m okay.
Date: 4/2
Time: 08:00
Location: UA Services
“And in other news, music industries princess Y/n has been attacked by yet another round of masked perpetrators. Fortunately for the music idol, she was left unhurt but was clearly rattled. This is but the fourth attack on Y/n since three weeks ago. It’s leaving many of us fans, spectators, and civilians wondering just what is being done to ensure her safety? Y/n is reported to not have a single bodyguard to her name, wanting to quote-on-quote ‘experience her fans to the fullest’, but with these recent attacks, we can’t help but hope something is done. At least until something is done about these attackers—”
Kirishima’s eyes tore away from the screen, his lips pressed into a deep frown as he took in the story. There was deep worry about it, not only because he hated the idea of people getting hurt, but because he was a big fan of yours.
Your debut album had come out during his training camp for the military. Not only was it an instant billboard smasher breaking every standing record, but his commanding officers were obsessed with the album and played it continuously until they graduated. Most of Kirishima’s comrades came to dislike your music solely because they remember throwing up, bleeding, and suffering while you sang about love and whatnot, but Kirishima? Kirishima fell in love.
It was a bright spot in his life, and he was grateful for your music, even if it has been ten years and six albums since the training camp.
“Yo, Kiri!” a voice cheered out happily as a hand clasped onto his shoulder from behind. Kirishima held the flinch that threatened to rip through his bones. Kirishima turned to find Kaminari grinning up at him, a cup of steaming tea in one hand as he grinned brightly at his coworker. “I heard you’re finally getting a good case today!”
Kirishima found himself relaxing at the sight of his rather spontaneous friend, a warm smile easing onto his face as he raised his fist for a greeting fist bump.
“We’ll see, I know Toshi’ said it was going to be important, but he also said escorting the paranoid old lady was important,” Kirishima sighed, his smile softening a bit.
Kaminari laughed, his arm slinging around Kirishima’s shoulders as he remembered that.
The little old lady was sure that the government was out to kill her and wanted protection until her son returned from his vacation. Needless to say, Kirishima had thoroughly enjoyed his time with her, even if she was a bit scary. It was a low-risk job, and he only was paranoid by her cane, which she used to thwack his back many times as she talked about how plums extended your life.
“God, I remember subbing in for you for one hour because of your family emergency, and she was so scary! She still haunts my nightmares!” Kaminari shudders, placing the cup of his tea to his lip and taking a long, slow drink. His eyes shift over to the TV, which is still broadcasting the story of your attack. “What a bunch of bastards,” he growls, eyebrows scrunching as the news reporter ends the segment. “Thinking they can go after such a beautiful and talented idol… I’ll kill them.”
Kirishima was more than well aware of Kaminari’s plentiful budding romances. The blond man fell in love with just about any smiling woman who happened to waltz in front of him. Still, unlike most times, he found himself agreeing with him.
“It sounds really serious. I hope that she really considers some type of security team,” Kirishima inputs too, taking the teacup in his fingers with a nod of thanks. “There’re too many weirdos in Japan and in the world, I wouldn’t want to hear the news the day something bad happens.”
Kaminari hums, his face nearing Kirishima’s as he takes a small sip of the apparently black tea. His eyes scrunch, and Kirishima smiles awkwardly as the blond studies him intently.
“W-Wha—”
“You like Y/n!” Kaminari exclaims (accuses, maybe?), his arm leaving Kirishima’s shoulders as he points a finger accusingly at him. “I thought I was the only one in this department who did!”
“Don’t be an idiot, Denki,” the familiar voice of Sero responds for Kirishima. “Everyone in the world is in love with Y/n; she was voted the favorite artist of the year in our company. Everyone but Bakugou voted for her if I remember correctly.”
Kirishima looks over at his black-haired friend who is rummaging through his locker, his mouth curved into an easy, teasing smile as he looks between the bashful Kaminari and sneering Bakugou, who also seemed to just walk in.
“Her shit is basic and overrated,” Bakugou defended himself. “Nothing special and bad for your brain and ears.”
“Your go-to music playlist is fifty percent death metal and alt. rock. I don’t think you have ground to say that it’s bad for your brain and ears,” Midoriya’s snicker sounded from behind Kirishima, and he looked around to see the freckled man grinning at the snarling ash blond.
“And how does your stalker ass know that, shitnerd?!”
“‘Cause I’m a stalker, duh.”
“Oh, Bakugou-kun, Midoriya-kun! You’re both here! Todoroki-kun is looking for you!”
“I’m just saying that Y/n’s dates to all the award shows and premieres have been blond. She’s into blonds, so she would totally be into me!”
“Deku, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to kill you myself.”
“You wouldn’t even be able to protect Y/n, bro. The only thing you performed well on in the application process was the tasing part. You can’t even tase people repetitively! She’d be dead in a second.”
“Can you believe my client dropped me because I couldn’t cook a five-star meal correctly? Hello, I can make 7-11 into a five-star course; it’s not my fault they’re not refined.”
“Kirishima-kun, are you okay?”
“I deadass got into a dance competition on the way to work. That’s why I’m late, why would I lie? Of course, I had to compete; my reputation was on the line!”
“Kirishima-kun?”
“Yo, he’s not looking too hot?”
“Kirishima?!”
“Can you hear us?!”
Silence.
Kirishima found himself opening his eyes — when had he closed them? For a moment, the air turned coppery, his body feeling weak, and he thought he felt something heavy on his lap. But that wasn’t right; he was standing up, he wasn’t sitting down. Most importantly, he was in Tokyo, Japan. He was alright. He was safe.
The sweat that clung to the back of his neck was cold, clammy, and intrusive. His chest felt tight again, his hands shaking so harshly the tea's warm, dark liquid was sloshing onto the floor.
There were seven pairs of eyes on him, each a different color, each swimming with concern and other emotions. Kirishima knew his ears weren’t working right now, his face unable to meet his brain's screaming demands to smile, and he watched as their mouths moved as they questioned his sanity.
He was okay.
He was okay.
He was okay.
“Kirishima?”
Kirishima looked up, his neck craning to the side to see a tall, skinny man standing at the doorway.
Toshinori Yagi was an esteemed bodyguard, one of the best in the industry, which was saying something considering that most bodyguards went unknown and unnamed. According to Google, Toshinori gained the nickname All Might after saving multiple political and celebrity lives when the government could not. It was long after his prime, and the man had retired but has since filled as the company’s head — thus why this job was near impossible to get.
Kirishima heaved a breath, realizing that he hadn’t taken a single breath when Toshinori’s bruised eyes narrowed in his concern.
“C-Coming,” Kirishima smiled, the blood rushing to his ears mostly ignorable now, but the scorching concerned gazes of his friends feel like cinders on his shoulder.
He straightens his tie, fingers curling when he feels the cold sweat penetrating through his clothes, but Kirishima doesn’t let it show. Smiling like he does, Kirishima pushed through his friends and followed Toshinori out the door.
They walked down towards the conference rooms, rooms that held their contractors, in complete silence.
“This is an important case,” Toshinori began, his voice gentle and poorly hiding his concern. “I chose you because you are a great asset to have, Kirishima. You are strong and smart, and most importantly, are personable.”
Kirishima looked at the man, his face contorting with his anxiety. He didn’t want to be treated like glass.
“Honestly, you being so personable is why I chose you for this assignment. Todoroki-shounen was a contender at first, but he’s not much of a talker; the same goes for Bakugou-shounen. Midoriya-shounen was probably the best choice, but there’s a new assignment that asked for three, so I gave up those three,” Toshinori explained the current assignments. It both delighted Kirishima to hear that he could keep up with arguably the three most qualified workers here as it did, at times, make him feel lesser.
“Oh.”
But he was obviously not the first choice still.
“The only reason why you weren’t the first choice is because of what I walked into just now,” Toshinori interrupts Kirishima’s thoughts and words. Kirishima finds his eyes tearing away from the smooth, polished wood floor to see Toshinori stopping in front of Conference Room A, his gaze intense on him. “To be frank, I wasn’t too sure if we should have hired you all that time ago. You are excellent on the field, your skills are phenomenal. Something to be proud of, truly, but you are clearly not completely healed from your time on the force.”
“Toshinori—”
“Kirishima-shonen, I’m not saying that there’s shame in your current struggles,” Toshinori once again interrupts, his hand a soothing warmth on Kirishima’s shoulder. “I’m still not healed from my past injuries, and as many people have undoubtedly told you, it’s okay to not be okay. But you barely passed the psych evaluation and only passed your field training because you scored so phenomenally on the other things your lack of a shooting score passed you.”
Kirishima felt unable to look away from the piercing blue eyes, and the lump in his throat never tasted as bitter, as sad.
He had barely passed the admittance test.
“I just need to know, are you ready to take on this assignment?” Toshinori asks in complete seriousness. “It’s a high stake, big-name client. We do not expect anything untoward to happen, but we never know in these cases. I think highly of you, Kirishima-shonen, and if you are ready to take this on, I’ll believe you, but likewise, if you’re not, I will gladly give this to someone else.”
Kirishima swallowed, his dry tongue passing through his equally dry lips.
Without question, he was not okay, not when he nearly broke down twice in a matter of hours, but it was just a bad day. He wasn’t as shaken as he was two months ago; he was going to his mandated therapy, talking to people who could assist him. Kirishima just didn’t want to be treated like glass anymore; he wasn’t glass; he was an unbreakable force.
Steeling over his nerves and ignoring how his stomach twisted and turned, Kirishima raised his gaze to Toshinori.
“I can do it.”
A smile.
“Good.”
If Kirishima was sweating because he was on a mental slip earlier, he was now sweating because he was beyond petrified and embarrassed. His hands raised up to brush against his red spikey hair, praying to God that it didn’t look dumb. His legs bounced at a speed that was bordering insanity, but he could only hear the sound of his racing heart as he stared at your frowning form from across the table.
It was you — the Y/n, the world's biggest music idol, an absolute legend in the making.
“This is our very own Kirishima Eijirou, age twenty-eight. He has been with U.A.Services for approximately six months now and is without a doubt one of our most capable and well-serviced men,” Toshinori began the introduction to the three people on the other side of the table. Kirishima could feel a blush rising up his neck and settling into his cheeks as what he presumed to be you, your manager, and your lawyer shuffling through paperwork that was very thorough on his background. “He was enlisted in the military before joining our ranks and was honorably discharged at the age of twenty-six as First Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou due to extreme injury. He excels in negotiating, scouting, and is, as you know, a skilled close combatant and was skilled in handguns—”
“I don’t think he’ll need firearms,” you interrupt, a frown on your face in contrast to the bright smile Kirishima was so used to seeing on your face. He tensed in worry.
“Y/l/n!” your manager, Sato Kimiko, scolded.
“What? It’s true! We’ll be around my fans for the majority, if not all the time! How is that right? For him to have a firearm around defenseless, and may I add, harmless individuals?!” you argued, your eyebrows scrunching in your fury.
Kirishima felt frozen in his chair, his eyes seeking Toshinori for guidance, but found himself unable to look away from you. He knew nearly everything about you, he could admit with a proud grin that he was a super mega fan of you, and he might have, at one point, looked your height up to imagine how you would appear beside him. Kirishima had known this entire time that you were two feet shorter than him, but it hadn’t hit what that meant until he was shaking your hand when he first entered.
You were tiny.
His dick and mind really liked that, and seeing your own passion spilling out for your fans was making him fall deeper into this hole he had for you.
“You don’t have a say anymore? Do you understand? You were nearly assaulted yesterday, and we are all done waiting around for something serious to happen!” Kimiko yelled, her face contorted into a look of both frustration and fear. “Either you take this, or we all leave you. I won’t have you murdered in front of me! You’re twenty-six now, stop acting like a damn brat and grow the hell up!”
The words scorched the table, blistering heat filling the conference room as you met Kimiko’s glare.
Kirishima watched with a dropped jaw as your nostrils flared, your lips pursing, and your eyebrows furrowing with unspoken distaste and anger.
“Six months tops.”
“Uh, yes,” Toshinori interjected. “Our contracts only last up to six months for new clients, but if you find yourself wanting to extend your contract after those six months, we are very much open to negotiations.”
You nodded your head, your eyes falling back onto the booklet in your hands that exposed all the information available on Kirishima. From his likes, dislikes, to his allergies and the reason why he was discharged. Each in disturbingly deep detail to make sure all things were up on the table.
“So, you can’t shoot your gun, Kirishima-san?” you speak, your voice tight, a pleased, almost taunting tone.
Kirishima stills, embarrassment bubbling in his chest as you drop the booklet onto the table, exposing his military history to him and you.
“...no,” Kirishima answers truthfully.
The lawyer shifts from the other side of you, his eyebrows scrunching as he too comes across that piece of information.
“He won’t use firearms?” the lawyer scoffs, his semi-permanent frown deepening. “How will we know that he will keep Y/n completely safe from any sort of danger that may come her way? We’ll be paying six months for a glorified security guard? We want a bodyguard.”
“And we clearly have one,” you snap back, your eyes narrowing. “If my bodyguard isn’t Kirishima-san, I’m not getting one. I mean, isn’t that what you said earlier?”
“When we were assuming that the person Toshinori was assigning to your case was a well-rounded bodyguard. Not one that was still clearly haunted by his past.”
Fuck, that one hurt.
You scowled, your head tilting as you bared your teeth slightly, “And what? He managed to get into the best agency in all of Japan in spite of that. Sounds like he’s competent. I already told you I won’t take on a team, just one individual. I trust in Toshinori-san’s guidance and his choice in picking Kirishima-san. If you disagree, that’s too bad for you.”
“Y/n! Please stop this! You’re being ridiculous!” Kimiko huffed, slamming her own booklet down, her eyes drowning with her exhaustion. “I’m so sorry, Toshinori-san, Kirishima-san.”
“H-Hey, it’s okay!” Kirishima immediately imputed, his hands raising in a sign of retreat. “I know that Y/n has always enjoyed her independence as a solo star, and how me being involved now is imposing, especially after multiple attacks.”
Kirishima felt that his smile was a bit strained, a bit too forced, especially as your eyes hawked onto him. He felt like you were examining him, like a lab rat going through its initial trial and not knowing just what was to be expected.
“Six months?” you spoke, your gaze not leaving Kirishima’s own.
“Six months,” Kirishima agreed.
You hum, your head nodding. “Fine, six months tops unless the Lieutenant Colonel can apprehend these assholes faster.”
It had been ages since Kirishima had been called by his title, and for some reason, he found himself blushing. His mouth, for the first time this entire meeting, curled into a wolfish grin.
“You got it.”
The lawyer groaned, entirely aggravated and insulted. He stood up, “You’re asking to be murdered, Y/n. Don’t come haunting me when you end up dead and mutilated. You deserve all the shit you’re getting.”
Kirishima watched with his lips parted in a bewildered expression as the lawyer walked out of the room with a loud slam of the door.
You were unfazed, and Kimiko groaned, exhausted and embarrassed as she mumbled a weak, sullen, “I am so, so sorry, Toshinori-kun.”
“Ah, Kimiko-chan, it’s okay!” Toshinori shook his head and smiled knowingly. It wasn’t as if the long time famous bodyguard hadn’t seen his fair share of childish fights between clients. “Thank you for coming as always, and we’ll do our best to make sure that Y/n is in the best of hands.”
“Thank you… and so, the rest of the contract?”
“Ah, yes, let’s continue.”
So, the contract was discussed to full detail.
For six months, Kirishima would be attached to your side. He must always remain at most three meters away from you when there is no one around, and during fan interactions no more than one meter. He had a full say about your safety. If things got rough, you were to follow his every command. Your agency would pay for his room and lodging. He was to wear black pants and a black long-sleeved cotton tee. He would be working with every venue, every hotel, every conventions security team. He would lead them and never leave your side. He was to be awake an hour before you, rest when you were asleep so long as it was safe to do so. He was your guardian angel of sorts, and you would do nothing but adhere to him.
Most importantly, according to Kimiko, there was one thing they were hoping for: Kirishima's help and discretion. For the next six months, they would be relying on Kirishima’s support to figure out who the group behind the assault was and who the mastermind was behind it all is.
Or so the contract said.
“Y/n!” Kirishima called when the papers were signed, and the day he was set to start was printed. He will begin tomorrow. “Wait!”
You stopped at the door, Kimiko and Toshinori chatting merrily between them as they exited the conference room, Toshinori’s booming voice asking if it was true that Kimiko was attending to a near forty clients to which she bashfully admitted to. You were dressed in a creme knit long-sleeved shirt, faded ripped jeans, and a pair of nude heels. The heels were big, undoubtedly giving you inches, but you still barely got to his shoulder.
“I-I’m looking forward to looking — I mean working with you!”
You looked at him closely, your eyes dragging to the top of his toes to the tallest spike in his hair before your lips pulled into a contemplative pout. You looked back to his eyes, and you steeled over, your head tilting to the side.
“I mean no offense, Sergeant, I thank you for doing your job, but I have no intention of looking forward to working with you. I don’t want you here, so do your best to ignore the contract and realize that I am the most important person, so you will follow my demands.”
Kirishima can do nothing but stare as you turn on your heel and leave.
Well, so much for a good case.
Date: 5/2
Time: 14:00
Location: Tokyo Music Stadium
If you would have told Kirishima Eijirou that he had been working for the grand, the perfect, the fantastic music idol Y/n for a month now, two months ago, he would have laughed so hard he’d cry. Not only would he have not believed it, but he would only think of a million and two scenarios where he would go the entire day flirting.
Now a month into knowing you, of being your bodyguard on a contract for six months, Kirishima could say that of that entire thought, the only thing he had been right about was that he was, in fact, crying. Not only has he never managed to speak an entire conversation with you despite being attached to your hip seven days a week, but despite your much shorter stature, you had managed to get away from him.
You always managed to sneak away from him.
Kirishima could admit that the no more than five meters rule had been wholly and utterly demolished.
And now, Kirishima was crying, not out of joy, but of pure manly fear as he raced through the backstages of the stadium, desperate to find your short-ass anywhere.
“Go, Kirishima!” someone yelled as Kirishima whizzed past him, “Find Y/n!”
“T-Thank you!” Kirishima screamed as he continued onward, the yellow-lit concrete hallway seemingly haunting the further he went into it. The earpiece in his left ear shrilled, the telling sign he was getting a call. Putting a finger to the circle in his ear, he answered the car. “Hello?!”
“Ah, Kirishima-san!” Kimiko’s voice chirped on the other side of the line. “Wonderful to hear your voice again! I’m calling to let you know that the tour bus is parked outside of the venue now. The concert was a smashing success, and she’s come out unharmed for the past month! To make matters even better, since your arrival, there have been no more assault attempts! Oh, um, sorry, where are you guys?”
“We’re just, um!” Kirishima tried not to pant into the microphone; he was still racing ahead, his head peeking into every door and room he passed. “Y/n needed to use the restroom?!”
“Oh, wonderful. Okay! Let me know when you two are on your way over!”
“Ya, okay, bye!”
“By—”
Kirishima hung up as he crashed through the doors at the end of the hallway.
It was night out right now, the full moon reflecting down on the dirty concrete with the same intensity as the streetlamps overhead. And in the middle of a crowd of around twenty people was the person Kirishima was trying to find: you.
You were still dressed in the final costume change of your concert. Even from a distance, Kirishima could see the glitter and highlight on the tip of your nose and the curve of your cheekbones. The crowd around you was clearly not hostile. Each face was bright with broad smiles and sparkling with fresh tears, each voice high and pitchy as if they were talking with some goddess and not you.
There was a slight longing in Kirishima’s chest at the sight of you interacting with your fans, your smile was so beautiful, and he wished just for a moment that he was the one that it was directed towards. If he had met you as a fan, and only a fan, he wonders if you would look at him as you did the others. Would he see the pure joy in the depths in your eyes, the love, wonder, and pride as they asked you questions and answered your own?
He wanted to be just a fan.
“Y/n, the tour bus is here,” Kirishima finally found his voice, the tenor of his voice spreading through the narrow alleyway. “Say your goodbyes.”
He had to ignore the way you stiffened immediately, the unsolicited joy in your face breaking and becoming bleak as you met his gaze. Kirishima absolutely did not feel pressure behind his eyes when you rolled your eyes and began to say your goodbyes; he did not!
The group of fans waved goodbye as you walked backward toward Kirishima; you didn’t stop waving and continuing your parting conversations with the group until the metal doors of the stadium doors closed behind the two of you. Kirishima let out a sigh, his eyes closing for a brief moment before looking down at you. You were expressionless, eyes cold as you looked dead ahead.
“You’re not supposed to run away like that.”
“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t tell me what to do, Sergeant.”
“You know I can’t do that it’s not—”
“Part of your contract. Yeah, I know, but that’s your contract, not mine.”
“Oh, okay. Um, Kimiko? ...yeah, we’re heading out now. Five minutes, till.”
And then there’s only silence.
Neither Kirishima nor you bother talking the entire walk towards the tour bus, and you ignore Kimiko’s call that your lawyer would be meeting briefly before tomorrow's fan signing event. You walk into the bus and go directly to the beds, throwing yourself into the terribly padded bunk and passing out without so much as a sound.
Kirishima sinks into his own bed, it’s too small for him, but there’s nothing he can do about it. Sleep overcomes him easily these days; he’s always way too exhausted in chasing you down like some spoiled toddler you’re behaving like to dream. But that’s okay, he thinks as the comfort of sleep begins to dig its skeleton fingers into his side, at least the exhaustion stops the night terrors.
Date: 5/3
Time: 10:00
Location: Tokyo Music Tower
Now, Kirishima knew that it was a common belief and a nearly proven theory that when you met your idols, you should never ever have your expectations high on who they are as a person. Celebrities were out of touch, cruel, rude, nearly jaded. They weren’t exactly the common folk. With people willing to forget things like them being human beings themselves or the common thread of celebrities being too rich to care, any type of famous person was cold, rude, and ruthless.
He knew that.
He also knew that you weren’t like the nearly proven theory.
You were kind, sweet, a practical angel to anyone who dared to approach you. You were the exception to the rule, an outlier to them all. You spoke politely to all your fans, domestic and foreign, and you treated each fan like the most special person in the world.
You were a good person.
But Kirishima knew, just as you reacted to any cruel person you encountered, you had an edge. Your words were as vicious as your name was known. He genuinely enjoyed watching you put assholes into place, but he sulked, knowing he was always at the receiving end of the sharp, bitter tongue of yours.
For a month and a day now, he had been the number target of your bitter words and scorching hate, but he admitted that he enjoyed it when it wasn’t directed at him, if but a little bit.
“I’m not renegotiating my contract!” you groan, your palms slamming into the depths of your eyes. “I already told you that I don’t need all that money!”
“And I’m telling you that you need to increase the wages that you pay the rest of your team instead of all those charities or else people will begin dropping you!” the lawyer countered with similar fire, his scowl angry enough that Kirishima felt like he had to tear his gaze away from this horrible battle. “You won’t be the best of the best forever, y/n, get over your stupid savior act and look over the changes!”
Kirishima looked over at you, his eyebrows pinching as he watched you fold your arms, your cheeks pushed out to a puff as you looked at the stack of papers with the title page fully covered with the word Contract of Y/n and Co. on it. Well, it seemed that the rumor of you spending your paycheck on things that weren’t you was right, how entirely manly.
“Oh fuck off,” you growl, pushing out of the chair and storming away.
Kirishima glanced over at Kimiko, who was looking pale and exhausted, undoubtedly exhausted from the past thirty-minute battle between the lawyer and the idol that neither made a single step forward nor a step back. How you had the energy to fight so passionately was beyond him. Kimiko nodded minimally, her lips parting in a sigh as Kirishima stood up and followed after her.
“The only way that brat is going to listen is by force,” the lawyer sneered, his voice fading into the room that Kirishima exited. “If that’s how she wants to play, so be it.”
Fortunately for Kirishima, he catches up to you. There are tears of fury dripping down your cheeks, and he feels unable to speak as he discovers a new layer to you.
...how interesting.
“It’s my money,” you speak, but Kirishima is unsure if those words are meant for him or for the void, the earth that you would much rather converse with than him. “I already pay them all a much greater paycheck than they should be getting considering their client pool. Why do I have to bend to their stupid will when I’m the one making the money.”
Kirishima blinks, wondering just what people might want to raise with their contracts. But, he knew you were right. By her account, Kimiko had a client list of many successful individuals, and he may not know anything about the lawyer, but if he worked with Y/n, his name must be good. Guess they weren’t like you.
“People are selfish assholes,” was the only thing that Kirishima could think of, and was something he spoke before he could stop himself.
But you stop in your storm, the anger that clouded you somewhat dissipating, clearing just enough for you to turn to him, your sharp, beautiful eyes for the first time filled with rage that was not pointed at him, and an emotion that made him think of… amusement?
“Yeah,” you agree, a half-smile cracking onto your face, and Kirishima feels his soul begin leaving his very body. “People are selfish assholes, huh?”
“Very much.”
There’s a calm, a snorted chuckle, and Kirishima finds himself stumbling further into the abyss of his feelings for you.
The next ten hours seem to pass in a blur, Kirishima feeling like he was on Cloud Nine as he stood behind you, three meters as he watched fan after fan approach you. Signatures were made, pictures were taken, and Kirishima found that he never once had to approach.
Maybe, he thinks, just perhaps, the two of you can overcome this.
Ten minutes after the official signing is done, Kirishima can’t find you, and he curses loudly into the echoing floor.
So much for change.
Date: 5/17
Time: 23:00
Location: The Parking Lot - Mt. Lady Studios
Kirishima was, for the lack of better words, completely fucking done with you.
Don’t get it wrong, he still was a complete and massive fan of yours. He would never once betray his loyalty to you and your musical career, but he was slowly starting to realize just why the lawyer was set to dying of a heart attack any time soon. Despite your early entrance to stardom and the stuff of legends, you had kept your fiery, stubborn individualism.
Kirishima thought it was absolutely hot and sexy at times, especially the times where you strut around in revealing clothes because ‘this is your body,’ or the lingerie campaign you completed two days ago as part of some fundraising event. There were significant perks to your strong handle and claim to keeping your indestructible personality, but it came back to rub them all back in the worst of ways when once again, you escaped from Kirishima’s side.
To be fair, most of the time, Kirishima was a very level headed individual; he was near impossible to rile up despite popular initial belief. I mean, he was good friends with Bakugou Katsuki, who riled up just about anyone he talked to! He needed to have steel calm emotions, or at the very least portray that he does. But even the unbreakable after tireless attempts can, at times, be broken.
It had been a hard morning.
Kirishima had woken up in a panic, the sweat of his night terror soaking through the sheets of his bed, and his head felt like lead. They had been in the tour bus for the entire day because you were going from the tip of Japan to the bottom of it, thus meaning that you couldn’t run away from him, concluding that when he went to bed that night, he was merely tired, not exhausted.
“K...Kiri...shima?” the voice whispered in his ears when he bolted from his bed and tumbled to the ground, his chest heaving in his panic as he cried.
He only slept for four hours that night, the ghost of his comrade haunting him too much for him to ever drift back to sleep. The only thing he was grateful for when he stumbled down to the hotel lobby for breakfast was that he had an attack while in his own room and not in a tour bus with ten others.
But the lack of sleep and the twisting of his guts from his still unburied memories meant that his exhaustion was dialed up larger than he thought was capable. Today was an interview day plus a miniconcert at said interview.
That meant that for an hour before your interview and two hours afterward, Kirishima lost you and had to hunt you down. You weren’t making it easy on him and had started moving with the crowd you gathered to evade him.
But today, Kirishima was exhausted.
Today, Kirishima wanted to sleep.
Today… Kirishima broke.
“Let’s go,” Kirishima spoke in a low, commanding voice. His eyes were hooded as he looked down at you, the crowd of fans parting like the red sea as he stands behind you, larger than life, imposing.
You ignore him.
“We’re leaving, now.”
“Aw, did you make that just for me?! This beading is gorgeous!”
To be fair, Kirishima isn’t really sure if he’s crying right now or if steam is protruding from his ears like some stupid cartoon. The only thing he knows is that it's been a bit longer than a month, and his client is the most perfect person in the world except to him and some lawyer. All he knows is that he has been continuously mocked, shamed, and disrespected by his client, and at this moment, with his mind and body aching with the memories of the morning, he can no longer stop the tsunami of emotions and thoughts that shove out of him.
He grabs your wrist and begins pulling you away.
“We’re leaving now, sorry to disrupt your time. Come see Y/n another day.”
Kirishima isn’t even aware of your screams, the banging of your small fist against his back as his hand encompasses your bicep easily. He walks and walks and walks until he stops, his mind slightly put back into place.
“—FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?! LET GO OF ME, SERGEANT!”
Oh, right.
He lets go of you immediately and nearly snorts at how you stumble into his back. So small, so delicate, and so completely weak.
“You want to know my problem, y/l/n?” he asks, voice eerily calm, much calmer than he actually is. “My fucking problem is that I signed onto this case with a single rule: keep you in sight and protect you. It’s simple, almost too easy, isn’t it? But easy and simple is everything that this assignment is!”
Your face contorted into a flash of anger and embarrassment, your nose scrunching as you found your footing, “And I told you that I don’t give a crap about that contract! I didn’t want it in the first place, but no one listens to me!”
Kirishima snorts, his body shifting so that he can look at you properly; your face is seething, your teeth bared and eyes wild, but Kirishima has faced worse.
“It’s not in my contract to listen to you, unfortunately,” Kirishima points out, his eyes narrowing. “I would have a better time listening to you, trying to find an agreement that worked if you used that brain of yours and figured out a way to compromise with me.”
“Compromises aren’t—”
“You think I wouldn’t?” Kirishima almost whines, his voice tight with emotions, fingers fisting in his hair, “You really fucking think that after a month and how many days of me spending stupid hours trying to find your ass, most of the time never knowing if you’re dead or not, I wouldn’t want a better solution?!”
“Like hell they’ll kill me! And if they do, I don’t fucking care!” you stubbornly insist, finger buried against the swell of your chest.
“Oh my god,” Kirishima can’t stop the bitter laugh from escaping, “you’re ridiculous.”
“I’m ridiculous?! I’m not the ridiculous one here!” you cry, your eyes bursting with unshed, bitter tears. “So what that I run away from you? Can you imagine living the past ten years of your life trying to be something that the media wants you to be? No! You can’t, Sergeant! Those times where I’m running away isn’t to be some dick, but to give me time to be me!”
“You’re a goddamn idiot!” Kirishima barks, his anger curdling in his chest like a raging fire. “If you had looked at my damn file correctly, instead of focusing on the stupid shit like me not being able to fire my gun correctly, you would be more than aware of the fact that you are one of my favorite artists!”
“Wh-”
“I am one of the best in my company! I am easy to get along with, personal, manageable, flexible even, but from the very first moment you laid eyes on me, you’ve hated me! You talk down on me, you shit on me, my job, the reason I’m here! Listen, I would fucking love to be anywhere but here right now. I have literally never hated my job before, but you just made that a reality. But the worst part of this all is the fact that you seem to think I would have kept you away, prohibited you from doing things that I already know you love! You stand there and tell me that I would try to force you to do shit you don’t want when I have merely been asking for you to take me there with you! I don’t care if I have to stand away and watch, but I want to be there! I’m supposed to be protecting you, but you’re being nothing more than a stubborn brat who refuses to see the efforts I’m trying to make, and frankly, I’m done.”
Kirishima’s chest is burning with the lack of oxygen, his eyes narrowed and filled with raging fire as he stares down at you, his neck craned so that he could be closer, more daunting, intimidating.
“Fuck o-off,” you snap suddenly, a lone tear, your voice tight and shoulders tense as you storm off.
“So predictable,” Kirishima calls after you, but it’s not filled with the previous anger he had but the sinking misery and regret.
And for a moment, it’s quiet.
Until a single name is screamed.
“SERGEANT!”
And then the all too familiar sound of a fist colliding with skin.
The anger in Kirishima’s blood evaporates immediately, and horror sinks in as he turns towards where you had stormed off. Oh no, oh no, oh no.
The parking lot is filled with an ugly yellow light that seems to set the stage for what was to come down. His footsteps crashing down against the black pavement were mute in his ears, and his eyes were focused on your limp body slung over somebody's shoulder. There was one person behind him, the other one already hopping into a van; Kirishima was the devil on their heels.
“Come on! Let’s go!” the one in the van screamed, his voice full of gruff apprehension and fear.
The van turns on.
Kirishima grunts, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he sidesteps the man who was lingering behind the one carrying you and quickly slams his shoulder into the man's sternum, knocking him out the moment he collapses onto the ground.
He lets out a roar of such, his eyes glowing with anger and a single mind track to take down the person who held you, ready to throw your unconscious body into the back of the van.
Kirishima doesn’t even know when he manages to get to the man's side, one hand on his shoulder, the other on you, and with the strength and anger of a million fighting warriors, he ripped you from his hold and sent him stumbling into the trunk. Your shallow breathing brushes against his neck, and Kirishima is hyper-aware of the cursing men who chose to abandon their unconscious comrade on the floor.
With his arms filled by your unconscious body, Kirishima can only watch the van scurry out of the lot, the license plate immediately burning into his mind.
T082-23
When the man on the floor finally wakes up, he’s in police custody, and you’re just waking up. There's a bruise on your cheek, and you begin crying immediately.
Kirishima watches from the distance, his heart aching and guilt climbing up his throat as he watches Kimiko hold you close, her arms warm and tight.
Well, shit.
So much for the month of no attacks.
Kirishima sits in a waiting room, his head relaxed against the wall as he waits for your discharge from the hospital. They suspect a concussion, and they’re running some tests right now. The police are there too, trying to get information from you on the failed kidnapping attempt as well as beginning the initial trials of interrogation of the abandoned kidnapper with a broken sternum, ruptured spleen, and three cracked ribs.
He was not surprised when the police officers came to talk to him, and he gave them the license plate.
But they also gave him an essential piece of information.
(“Well, when we asked for a motive, it seemed that it wasn’t his idea,” the detective admitted, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “His boss said that, and I quote, Y/n will end up dead and mutilated as is deserved. She deserves all the shit she has coming her way, end quote. Any ideas of who it could be”
Kirishima rubbed a hand across his face, the words striking a bit too familiarly to him, but from where. He shook his head, his eyes focusing on his bouncing knee.
“Thank you,” Kirishima said, his tone pointed in a clear indicator that this conversation was now over. The detective nodded, his frown slight as he left. The moment he was gone, Kirishima pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Kimiko? Yeah, I think we might have our first suspect.”)
For now, he was waiting for you.
An hour passed before you shuffled into the waiting room. There was a bandage on your swollen cheek, but besides the obvious attack, your eyes looked strong, and it seemed like there was no concussion.
“I should be fine,” you speak first, your jaw tensing as if it physically pained you to speak (whether it was because you hated talking to him or because of the injury, Kirishima had no idea). “I will be fine; I just need some sleep.”
Kirishima nodded, his body completely exhausted, and his mind filled with nothing but regrets on how he handled his anger earlier. He needed to apologize. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but he had definitely crossed a few too many lines.
“Should we go?”
You chewed on your lip, your eyes looking down at the white tiled floors of the hospital — so bleak, so anxiety driving.
“I actually wanted to talk before we left.”
Oh?
“Of what, if I may ask?”
Your eyes raise back up before looking away again, “the contract.”
Kirishima finds himself nodding, his hand gesturing towards the empty seat in front of him.
“Sure.”
And with a heaving sigh that sounds like you were on the verge of tears, you sit before him.
The contract was then discussed.
It was decided that you could continue to interact with fans as you wish, so long as you took Kirishima with you. He didn’t care about the long hours, the manic fans, or the impending doom of a group of people who meant business. He needed to be there.
Everything else stayed the same, but Kirishima looked at you one last time that night in the hospital, his body leaning towards you as he did his best to keep his face void of emotion and any lingering teasing.
“I’ll only accept this new negotiation on one term.”
“W-What?!” you pause, thinking. “Fine, say it.”
“From here on out, I think we should be friends, yeah? I’m on your side, after all, it’s a bit weird if we stay just acquaintances.”
The tension and horror leave your body, and Kirishima, for the first time ever, bears witness to the most relaxed, meaningful smile he has ever seen you give. It had been one hell of a shitty night, but at that very moment when the seventh turned into the eighth, Kirishima felt a new warmth flood through his chest, his heart racing at the sight of your glorious smile.
“Of course, Kirishima.”
“Oh, and y/n?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry about all that I said. It was unmanly of me and out of line.”
“It’s okay. To be fair, I was a bit of a self-absorbed brat, too.”
The next day, a picture of Kirishima holding you bridal style is trending.
Date: 6/12
Time: 19:00
Location: Hime Onsen
An Interview with Y/n | Vogue Japan
4.5 million views • Premiered 2 hours ago
874k [liked this] 12.3k [disliked this]
Timestamp: 05:32 / 10:33
[Interviewer]: Now, Y/n, we must congratulate you on your latest achievement! Your latest self-titled album, ‘Y/N,’ has been nominated for a record high of twelve awards for the upcoming Japan Record Awards, which will be coming up in about a month! Tell us how you feel about this?
[You]: It was quite a surprise actually! I didn’t realize that it would have done so well in the critic's eyes to get this type of award. I am proud of myself and am excited to see all the other amazing artists and musicians who were nominated as well.
[Interviewer]: Now, your album is all about staying true to yourself, whether that be in love or war. It depicts your own highs and lows while also highlighting beautifully universal things many of us face. Without question, you have always been adamant on staying connected with your fans and keeping a simple rule: no bodyguards.
[Y/n]: Oh, (laughs) yes! That is definitely a new thing, huh?
[Interviewer]: A new thing and a beautiful thing at that, too! Look here!
[captioner notes: interviewer displays many photos of Y/n’s bodyguard, including the most famous one where he’s holding y/n after the failed kidnapped attempt]
[Interviewer]: This is a beautiful — don’t giggle! — a beautiful man, Y/n! What do you have to say for yourself?! Did you finally succumb to keeping untrue to yourself for this beautiful man?! If so, it is perfectly acceptable. By chance, is your contract with him done? I would personally love to have this man on my team.
[Y/n]: (laughing) By all means, take him! (Y/n looks behind her, her bodyguard is there) I’m kidding, I’m kidding! (pauses) No, actually, sorry. Kirishima is an outstanding bodyguard, and I have no intentions of leaving him so soon. Uh, while I did say I had no wish or intentions to have a bodyguard, obviously that was not the best solution, so I hired Kirishima. He is a wonderful addition to my team and still allows me to be authentically me, so it’s still all good.
[Interviewer]: Ah, okay, well, Kirishima-kun, if you ever need a new client, call me. But moving on, yes! Would you like to discuss the series of increasingly concerning attacks?
Kirishima stood in the softly lit hallways of a sauna.
Today was one of the last remaining days you had off, and in celebration of your upcoming award season, you had decided that it was mandatory to visit the hot springs. Everyone on your team — the backup dancers, band, and hair and makeup — were ecstatic to learn that they were being involved with it too.
This high-end resort had accommodated your entire team to receive their own private spring with an all-inclusive menu too.
It was thanks from the owner for the free PR and, of course, because they were some of your biggest fans. So, in thanks, everyone got to enjoy the springs.
Well, everyone but Kirishima, that was.
As of the past month, things between Kirishima and you had improved a lot.
With Kirishima no longer needing to run a marathon daily to find where you were, he would find himself walking at your side. He no longer felt like you hated him. There was respect and actual friendship between the two of you. You joked with him, showed him memes and TikTok, sent him snapchat streaks, and invited him to watch weird shows with you. You even complained to him about the things that annoyed you, namely Kimiko’s attention being stolen by other clients and the rude conversations you would have with the lawyer.
It made Kirishima’s chest warm up knowing that you were friends now.
A stressful month had passed into a friendlier one.
But there were some things that Kirishima would not have expected to… arise.
Namely you growing to be comfortable enough to walk around with nothing but a thin pair of panties and a large shirt. You curling into his side whenever you watched a show together in the bus, the way your lips brushed against his neck when he leaned down to hug you, or the very so not obvious teasing you would do when you changed in front of him. It was as if you were watching his every reaction, enjoying the way that his eyes horribly tore away, or the silent hitch in his throat whenever you speed his heart up.
The biggest surprise arose the night after the failed kidnapping attempt:
You had come to his room, hours after you were supposed to have fallen asleep.
Your eyes were sunken, still a bit tired, and the bruise on your cheek was looking bad. In your arms was a white binder undoubtedly filled with the introductory packet you had received at your initial meeting. Kirishima had opened the door in his sleepy state in nothing but gym shorts. He had barely started dozing off, his mind wouldn’t stop thinking of what could have happened if you hadn’t managed to scream, and so he kept tossing and turning.
Seeing you outside of his room, his head dropped down to look at you properly, and his fist rubbing at his eye fell, “Y/n?”
“Did I wake you?” you asked, your face filled with a shocked, near uncomfortable, and embarrassed expression he doesn’t recall ever seeing on you. “I’m so sorry! I’ll wait until—”
“No,” Kirishima grunts while he shakes his head, his voice raspy and dry from his lack of use. “I’ve been tossing and turning, um, what is it? Do you want to come in?”
“I-If that’s okay?”
Kirishima breathes out a bit, his shoulders relaxing as he smiles softly, “Come on, let’s talk about what’s on your mind.”
The door clicked behind your tentative steps with an echo, and Kirishima watched as you walked into the hotel room with wariness and caution.
“Would you like some tea?” Kirishima offered, picking up a shirt from his dresser and pulling it over his body. The fabric was tight against his chest and shoulders, but felt more appropriate to wear around you.
“No, I’m okay,” you politely decline.
You stood in the center of the room, unsure of where to sit, stand, or lay.
“Go ahead and make the bed,” Kirishima offered, taking the chair by the desk. “I promise it’s still clean.”
You laugh slightly, smile strained but grateful as you sit at the edge of the bed, binder resting on your lap.
“Thanks, I wouldn’t want to sit on a dirty bed,” you joke, but it sounds weak to Kirishima’s ears.
“So, what questions do you have?”
“Hm?”
“You have my portfolio,” he shrugs, leaning forward so that his forearms rest on his knees. “I have a feeling you have some questions.”
“Oh, right,” you whisper, your eyebrows scrunching as you open the binder to the first page, but your eyes are focused on the desk. “What’s the medication for?”
Kirishima turns his head to follow your gaze and comes across the yellow tinted medicine containers.
“My PTSD,” Kirishima answers honestly, his voice soft with emotion, but there was no shame in it. “My service had a difficult end.”
“That’s actually… that’s what I came to talk about,” you rush, your hands slamming the binder closed. “If you don’t want to talk about it, obviously I won’t push it! God, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have—”
“No, it’s okay,” Kirishima interrupted, his smile sad, but he stood up, his body a tower in front of yours as he urged you to sit back down. “It’s okay; I don’t mind talking about it.”
“B-But what if I say something that makes it all worse?”
A pause.
“Then I’ll tell you that it’s too much.”
A nod.
“Are you… are you still experiencing a lot of symptoms?” you ask, your fingers tightening and untightening around the binder.
“Some days are worse than others,” Kirishima admits, his shoulders shrugging. “I don’t experience much anxiety while in crowds anymore; I don’t have many flashbacks to those days anymore, not since February at least. I do still get… I still get night terrors and dream of that day. It’s nowhere near as bad as the first few months after the accident, but it’s still here.”
“What happened?” you asked after a bit, morbidly curious.
The file had all the details that proved Kirishima to be a master of firearms during his entire time on the force. He was a powerful combatist, and his ranking was a clear indicator of the respect and skills he had. Still, it was the quick honorable discharge, the near year-long hospitalization, and the current inability to use a firearm that concerned you.
What had happened?
“I was involved in a grenade explosion on my last day on tour. I was the only one who managed to survive the blast,” Kirishima easily stated, his voice quiet.
“Oh my god, I… holy shit, I’m so sorry.”
“Nah, it’s all good. There were only two others around, and one of them was already dead.”
“Was that um, Major—”
“We called him Crimson Riot, actually,” Kirishima smiled, a chuckle light on his tongue as he leaned back onto the chair, nodding. “Yeah, that was him.”
“Crimson Riot,” you repeat, nodding. “Did you watch him… watch him die?”
Kirishima presses his lips tightly together, and for a moment, you’re unsure if he’s going to cry, answer you, or tell you to leave. There’s a whirlwind of emotions on your optimistic and typically jubilant bodyguard despite your asshole tendencies that make your stomach twist.
“Yes,” Kirishima finally answers, and you nod.
It’s hours into the morning before you finally depart back to your room, the horrors of Kirishima’s past still pounding into your ears. Kirishima wouldn’t notice, and neither would you, but on his shirt and yours, there’s a few drops of tears the both of you shed when you said goodnight.
Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou, while on an active warzone, had accidentally struck and killed his superior officer, his friend, his role model Crimson Riot, thinking that he was nothing more than an enemy target as he sat wounded behind a wall. He died on his lap, and as someone came to help, a grenade landed two meters away before detonating.
“K...Kiri...shima?” Crimson Riot had whispered as he fell to his knees, blood gushing and seeping through his clothes, spilling onto Kirishima’s lap. “I’ll be okay.”
For whatever reason, since that night, Kirishima felt something in him shift. He still took his medication, still had his virtual therapy sessions when he could fit them in, and even had painful night terrors of that moment, but it was becoming less frequent.
He wasn’t made of glass.
There had been more instances after the kidnapping attempt, but unlike the last times, Kirishima was prepared. He had stopped each one, keeping you safe and sound. As of one week ago, he had officially been given a firearm to keep strapped to his thigh at all times now.
It was an unfamiliar weight, one that still twisted his stomach and made him nervous, but he knew the reason why it was needed. Since the gun had been added to his gear, the attacks stopped. He was definitely not ready to be firing it anytime soon, but it had deterred the attackers for the time being.
Kirishima paused when he heard his earpiece ring, and he dropped his phone where he had been watching your interview despite being there himself.
“Talk to me,” Kirishima answered, his finger pressing the accept button.
“Kirishima!” came the distressed voice of Kimiko, “We just got a tip!”
Kirishima stilled, his eyes scanning the empty hallways that stretched throughout the private hot springs.
“I don’t know, but a person with connections with this mastermind said something about how there were two more events he was staging. Today is one of them!”
Kirishima’s eyes widened, his lips parting to answer Kimiko when instead there was a large, loud crash in the water from inside your room. He assumed the worst.
“Y/n!” Kirishima shouted, hands throwing open the sliding door and racing through the storage room, the shower, and exited out into the hot spring.
Steam curled through the wind, the white wisps of steam feeling warm and light against Kirishima’s skin, and Kirishima panicked when he couldn’t see your shadow or figure in the hot springs.
“Where is she?! Is she alright?!” Kimiko panicked, her voice panicking already. “I’ll call the—”
Kirishima turned on his heel, ready to complete a full sweep of the outdoor hot spring when he crashed into something smaller than he was… smaller, softer, and definitely the shape of a woman. Kirishima felt his entire body stiffen when his rough palms felt the undeniable feeling of wet, warm skin.
“Oh my god,” he heard you shriek. “KIRISHIMA!”
“She’s all good, Kimiko,” Kirishima stifled out, his voice tight, his head slamming backward so that his eyes were concentrated on the starry night sky.
“...sorry… uh aha! Another client of mine is calling, goodbye!” Kimiko’s apology was meek and small before she hung up.
Kirishima’s mind was racing a mile a minute, but his body was frozen, unmoving like a rock when he realized that pressing to his stomach was, without a doubt, your breasts.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“What are you doing in here, pervert?!” you splutter, your hands pressing to his stomach as you step away. “Are you a pervert or something?!”
“I, no! No! Of course not! Fuck, shit, I’m so sorry! I’ll go! There was a tip that something was going to happen right now, and there was a crash and—”
“What are you looking at?” you exclaim, squeaky frustration heavy on your tongue. “There’s nothing wrong with the sky! Look me in the eyes? Have you never been to a co-ed hot spring before?!”
“Y-Yes, sorry!” Kirishima apologized, bowing slightly in apology before he peered down. Still, his face bursted in a flame as he watched the way your jaw dropped in disbelief, the dewy wetness of the hot spring clinging to your body. You were, obviously, soaked, and Kirishima bit his tongue as hard as he could to keep the whimper from expelling past his lips when he saw the light gleaming off your breasts. But he watched your face shift between a million emotions, each one appearing too fast for him to read, too fast to register, but he saw the way a single-arm wrap around your breast and the other shoving into his stomach.
“PERVERT!”
“What?!”
“That was a test! This is my private room! I have the right to not be willing to be looked at right now!” you shrieked as Kirishima spun around, allowing you the complete privacy of his gaze.
“You told me to look at you!” he squawked. “Y-You told me, and I listened because of our contract!”
Kirishima could feel his body trembling, his mind reeling in disbelief that he definitely saw you in your entire nakedness, and if the swirling heat in his stomach had anything to say about it, he liked it. Fuck.
There was a soft laugh and the sound of sloshing water as you probably (he wouldn’t know because he wasn’t looking) reentered the spring.
“I know, I was teasing,” you sing, and he can tell the water is gliding around your body. “Turn around, Kiri, let’s talk.”
“Haha, um, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Kirishima admits, although sitting in this steam-filled space with just you sounds so very nice.
“Why not?” you asked, voice sounding a bit upset.
“I’m supposed to be outside, doing my job?”
“Augh, but these private springs are so boring alone,” your voice whines; the water sloshes, and Kirishima winces at the slight throb on his tongue as he continues to look at not your direction. “Turn around, Kiri.”
Not too long ago, you had taken to calling him Kiri, a subtle change, a not unusual nickname people gave him. But just because it was you, his stomach flipped and twisted, and now with the image of your tits in mind, his dick throbbed.
Gulping, Kirishima turned, his gaze bashfully looking down at you before glancing away. You were chest-deep in the hot springs, tendrils of your wet hair sticking to your neck. Was he dead? Maybe dreaming?
No, his dreams were never like this.
“Do you want to come in?” you continued to ask, your body moving towards him in the water until you reached the edge of the pool, arms testing into the black rocks. “You’re the only one not in one, and since I hate being in these alone, I figured you’d like to join.”
Kirishima wanted to join. More than anything, he wanted to take his clothes off and jump into the springs with you, for you, but that would be unprofessional. Entirely and utterly unprofessional.
“Please?” you ask softly, pleadingly, and Kirishima makes the mistake of locking his gaze with yours.
“...fine, but I’ll be on the other side of the spring,” he concedes, his steps near clumsy and oafish as he stumbles backward to the shower and closet.
“Such a gentleman pervert,” you tease, fingers curling as you wave at him until Kirishima finally closes the door behind him.
The empty room is nearly deafening in its silence and the future as Kirishima slumps against the sliding door, excited apprehension rippling through every cell of his skin as a smile spreads across his face. He walks to the storage room, and despite it being a private room, there were two closets. The closet not already occupying your clothes had the things needed for him, and thankfully, it fit.
He undressed slowly, folding his clothes and placing them into the cubbies. Fully naked, he approached the showers, and under the lukewarm showerhead, he cleaned his body of any grime, dirt, and sweat.
Feeling refreshed and clean, Kirishima began his descent to the hot spring, his heart hammering when his fingers grabbed the handle of the door.
“I’m coming in,” he announced, a healthy amount of fear, excitement, and heat drumming through him.
“I’ll keep my virgin eyes away from your body, don’t worry,” came your slow tease, and Kirishima snorted softly.
Kirishima stepped back out to the hot spring.
Just like the first time, the entrance to the spring was warm, the steam seeming thicker than last time, clouding the outdoor room and his sight. You were at the furthest out part of the pool, your back towards them as you worked your fingers through your scalp.
Discarding his slippers at the edge, Kirishima climbed into the pool.
The pool only went as far as his thigh, and he sank into the warm water. It felt wonderful on his body, relaxing his muscles just enough for him to wonder when was the last time he had managed to visit a hot spring.
“I’m in,” Kirishima said, his arms rising up out of the water, resting onto the black stone. “You can turn around now.”
“God, took you long enough,” you tease, your body twisting so that you were facing him again.
To Kirishima’s complete and utter surprise, you stilled, eyes dragging up and down his exposed chest, eyes locked on the series of tattoos all over his right pectoral, and trailed down his right arm. His lips felt dry as your eyes shifted back to his face, to his arm, and back to him. The smile on your face felt weak, but it sent a spiral of dizzying heat through Kirishima when he noticed the hushed lust.
For a while, the two of you remained at opposite ends of the hot spring. Eyes closed, hummed melodies passing through the song. You asked Kirishima about how he felt, if his medication was due for refills, if therapy was okay (he was doing better, a refill was due in two weeks, and therapy was going the same). He asked you about your relationship with Kimiko, with the lawyer, and if you had any real friends within the music industry (Kimiko was like an older cousin to you, the lawyer was a pain to deal with at times, and surprisingly, you did meet some genuine friends). You questioned how his friends were doing, if he had any contact with them despite their busy schedules.
So Kirishima found himself retelling stories of his coworkers turned close friends. Each story he told left both of you with sore stomachs from laughter, and tears at the corner of your eyes from laughing too hard.
“Was the tip story true?” you asked once the quiet overcame and grew old. You shift through the water, getting a bit closer to Kirishima.
Kirishima coughed, suddenly feeling a tad bit shy about his posture, but decided to keep from moving.
“You honestly think I would have barged into here just because I wanted to see you?”
Truthfully, had Kirishima been a man without morals, chivalry, or disrespect for you, he would have. Definitely would have.
“Let a girl dream,” you smile, like a luring siren as you wander closer by just a step. “It would go against everything I know about you, but it’s fun to tease.”
“You’re a bigger brat than I thought you would be,” Kirishima smiles back, trying his best to not show the way goosebumps were bursting against his skin, his eyes locked on yours, trying to not get distracted by the way your wet skin made his mind spin.
“I don’t think I’m a brat,” you counter, getting close enough that he could feel the currents of the water with your movement. But you were far enough that Kirishima felt like pointing out the fact you disregarded his keep apart rule would be a mistake. “How am I a brat?”
The sound of the water rippling through the springs along with the growing noises of the bugs began a melody around the two of you, and all Kirishima could do was stare at the way you blinked your eyes slowly — like a feline stalking a prey.
“A lot of ways, really,” Kirishima breathes, his heart rising up to his throat as he felt your hands gingerly place themselves on his knees.
“Yeah?” you ask, parting through his naked legs, and Kirishima felt his breathing stop when your exposed chest pressed against his. Your lips were ghosting so far from his but tantalizingly close enough that he felt drunk off your sweet breath. “And what are you going to do about it?”
Kirishima sucked in air, his arms resisting movement, and his eyes glanced down at the way your mouth was millimeters from his. His dick was very much interested in what he could do about it, and when your hands grazed up his thigh and onto his chest, Kirishima could feel something rumble in his chest.
He moved to eliminate the space, but there was a crash in the following spring, pushing you away from him long before he could claim your mouth.
“FUCK!” the person in the opposite spring screamed, and Kirishima’s eyes closed in his muted annoyance as you sighed.
His eyes dropped to the water, giving you the privacy to rise out of the water and make your way over to the wall.
“Jenny, are you okay?” you called.
“Give me a warning the next time you try fucking your hot bodyguard in the middle of a private onsen!”
“We weren’t fucking you prude!”
And with that, Kirishima took this as his embarrassed cue to leave.
He stood at the entrance of your private spring for about twenty minutes, entirely uncomfortable with the still hard dick in his pants, rubbing and chaffing against his jeans as he stood there. Eventually, you exited the hot spring, face glowing from the steam and eyes avoiding his gaze as you walked back to your room. Your robe was tight on your body, the hair on the nape of your neck pressed to your skin.
Kirishima sighed as he watched you enter your room, your smile short as you nodded a simple goodnight before letting the door slam shut behind you.
Rubbing his face, Kirishima listened to the voices in his intercom talk about how nothing had happened tonight. An attempted unwelcome visitor tried to get into your room, but they had stopped him. They didn’t fight, but they had run away the moment they caught on to the fact that they weren’t exactly authentic.
Kirishima sighed as he slumped into his room, collapsing on the too small bed as he found himself looking at the ceiling in deep concentration.
What was he going to do now?
That was undeniably sexual, his still semi-hard dick damning evidence to the known fact that he wanted you. By god did he want you. Wanted you beneath him, over him, splitting yourself down onto his cock while you gripped your arms and legs around him, fucking down onto his driving cock.
Kirishima groaned low in his chest, guilt blooming in the back of his throat as his palm rubbed his pulsing cock.
Bad, Kirishima, bad.
“Kirishima-san?” a voice broke through his earpiece, and Kirishima nearly jumped out of his skin. “Are you there?”
“Hi Kimiko,” Kirishima sighed, his dick deflating instantly. “Everything all right?”
“Ah, yes! Sorry about earlier, the false tip and the sudden abandonment!” Kimiko embarrassingly apologized. “My client was ringing for the fourth time, and while I care deeply for y/n, I had to take it!”
“Mm, no worries, Kimiko,” Kirishima smiled politely despite the lack of visual contact. “How can I help you?”
“Ah, yes,” Kimiko asserted, her tone changing from apology to one of formality. “So, about the visitor incident I’m sure you were brought attention to, it seems that the vehicle they came in was with the driver's plate: T082-23. Does that sound familiar?”
“Not currently,” Kirishima sighed, his body stretching into a sitting up position. “Does it to you?”
“No…” Kimiko admitted, and Kirishima could feel the worried frown on her face. “Well, I just wanted to call and give you that information. It was passed along to me, and they mentioned they hadn’t told you. And since I was going to give you the schedule for the upcoming JRA’s award day, I figured I’d let you know!”
“No problem! Let’s go over the schedule now?”
“Yes! I have a client meeting in America right after this! Can you believe it? An American celebrity wants my help?!”
“That sounds amazing, Kimiko!”
“Okay, so this is how the day’s going to go!”
Date: 7/10
Time: 18:00
Location: Tokyo Hotel Room 101
Kirishima watched as an entire team was getting you dressed up.
Two people were doing your hair, three people doing your nails, one person doing your makeup, and five getting one of your three outfits for the night ready.
According to you, as you had strutted around in these outfits nearly two weeks ago were your red carpet and beginning of the award show outfit, your performance outfit, and of course, the after-party outfit. Each one was different, yet when adorned on your body was a perfect replica of who you were.
Most importantly, the two of you had decided to ignore every single instance of tremendous sexual energy and desire that basically leaked from both of your pores. It was for the best to ignore it. There was no point in pursuing it, especially when there was a known hunt for you, and Kirishima was the last line of defense between you and whoever it was.
Whoever it was, pfft.
Kirishima was willing to bet on who it was already.
Since the night of the initial kidnapping that finally closed the gap between you and Kirishima, there was something that the caught criminal said that stuck with him.
Everything you had coming your way, you deserved, he had said in bitter spite.
The interesting thing was that it was the lawyer who had said that, multiple times at that. The lawyer seemed to have everything to fuel him to rage against you. Everything you said or tried, the lawyer was on your heel, barking at you that it was wrong. Kirishima had also seen the contracts between you and the lawyer, and the amount that he was paid to be your attorney was not large at all.
The mass majority of the funds you earned were always funneled towards charities and organizations you trusted to help people in need — in fact, it was almost 80% of your total earnings. A meek, barely larger than 20% was split between you, your lawyer, Kimiko, your music crew, and any other unforeseen expenses. The lawyer was also in a situation where he was not in demand with clients, and if you weren’t heeding his expensive tag, he needed a new contract with you.
A contract he was always demanding to discuss with you that you denied to change.
Attacks tended to happen days after you and the lawyer tumbled, not enough to rouse suspicion if you weren’t looking, but Kirishima was. He just needed damning evidence now.
Something.
Anything.
And for some reason, his gut was screaming at him that something big was going to happen tonight, that tonight was going to be the last attack—the one to end everything.
So he had told everyone about it. Kimiko, the security at the JRA’s, even you. It made him nervous.
It made his hand sweat, the gun strapped to his thigh feeling like hot iron as he stood about as you laughed with your makeup crew.
Kirishima swore, promised, and vowed he would protect you.
He was going to.
And when the gold dress was tied to your body, fitting you beautifully, Kirishima found himself unable to look away like strands of your hair framed your temples.
“What do you think, Kiri? Will I be on the Best Dressed List?” you asked, tearing Kirishima’s attention away from the bodice and skirt of the dress. Your eyes were bright, hopeful, yearning for a positive reaction from him.
“How could you not be?” Kirishima admitted, his grin toothy, and he shifted against the wall.
“You’ll make me blush,” you grin back, eyes batting just a bit as you clasp your hands together. It takes everything in Kirishima to keep from striding across the space between the two of you and kissing you silly. “Are we ready to go?”
Kirishima wet his lips, unwillingly tearing his gaze from you, and whispers into the intercom.
“Ready to move out?”
“We’re all clear.”
Straightening back up, Kirishima smiled at you, his head motioning towards the door.
“Alright, y/n, let’s see you make some history?”
“Damn right I will.”
Kirishima smiled as he exited first, carving the path for you.
Paparazzi were on you immediately, the lights flashing and terribly bright as he helped you through the throngs of them. His hand pressed to your back as they screamed demands, most of which you complied with until Kirishima stated that you would be late. You, unfortunately, couldn’t be late to the awards show.
Ushering you into the limousine, Kirishima follows in shortly after you, scrunching up in his seat as he sits opposite of you. However, your typical light and bright demeanor are gone; instead, you seem almost anxious as you open your handbag.
“You okay there?” Kirishima asks as he realizes you pulled out a distinctly obvious metal flask.
“Awards make me nervous,” you painfully admit; you're weakly smiling as you knock back a shot of the drink. “I hate winning and losing; the alcohol makes me less… of a wreck. Do you want some? I think it’s apple soju, I don’t know, a good luck gift from Kimiko.”
Kirishima grins, his eyes rolling as he decides to decline the drink. “Sorry, love, I think that I need to be completely sober for today.”
You scrunch your nose, obviously displeased, “Lame, who shows up to these awards sober?”
“Me,” Kirishima laughed, his head tilting back and scraping against the ceiling of the limousine.
“Such a prude, sober, pervert,” you sigh, taking yet another swig before putting the flask back into your bag.
“Such a brat.”
Just like every previous instance, your eyes seem to glow in glee at that name, your lips curling into a pleased smirk as you shrug. It's a sight that makes Kirishima’s mouth dry and heart racing. Fuck, he should not be thinking about fucking you in the limousine right now.
But before the heat in the limousine could simmer to one of undeniable boiling, you had arrived.
Kirishima cleared his throat, sending a quick wink your way as he exited the car first. The first stop was for him to join the lineup to guide you through all the different photo and interview sessions. No one wanted pictures of him emerging from the limo after all.
There's a moment where after Kirishima closes the door, your eyes filled with worry and excitement as he winked goodbye, that things changed. He stood up, his eyes already scanning the area for anything suspicious, when he saw the all too familiar van.
T082-23.
His eyes widened, his head looking around for anyone else, but there was no one to help. No one could do anything as the car continued to drive away, disappearing from Kirishima’s line of sight. His heart hammered in his chest, and his hands instinctively went to his thigh. He had his firearm… he had it.
With nothing but a quick report to the head of security via his com, Kirishima pushed on ahead, waiting for your descent down the red carpet.
When you eventually emerged from the limousine, Kirishima found that at this moment, the entire world faded away as a gloved hand assisted you out of the vehicle. You were elegant, stunning, a realistic vibrant portrait within his world of greys. As you took photos for the cameras, he was by your side a few strides away as you talked to reporters.
You really came to life right now.
You were beautiful.
“For all the pain in the world that she is, she’s quite charming from a distance, huh?” a voice spoke to his side, and Kirishima froze. His eyes widened completely when he noticed that standing beside him was none other than the lawyer.
The lawyer was dressed in a nice suit, glasses perched on his nose, and for the first time Kirishima had seen, the scowl was not quite so hard.
He was here.
Every warning bell sounded in Kirishima’s head.
This was the man he was so sure was the reason behind your every attack. A man fueled by insufficient funding, a need for a new contract that would never be approved without your signature.
“What are you doing here?” Kirishima asked, subtlety never being something he was ever good with. “I’ve never seen you anywhere except to argue with Y/n about contracts. This doesn’t seem like the appropriate time to be discussing it.”
“Kimiko wanted me to give her a new contract proposal to give to y/n. However, to be fair, it’s quite easy for anything to come down to an argument with y/n,” he shrugs, and Kirishima watches a cloud of emotions pass between the man’s eyes. “At least between her and me, we’ve never gotten along, but I suppose that’s how it is for any type of family who works together.”
Wait.
“What?! Family member?!”
“Yes, I know it’s strange to believe. I am quite ugly, and she is not, but we’re family.”
Kirishima’s mind was racing now. It didn’t make sense. If he was family, why would he be in such pursuit of potentially murdering you? If you were family, he was sure that you would help out? If he needed a raise like he thought, wouldn’t you have helped?
There was no way you wouldn’t.
Was he wrong?
Who was it?
“Kiri!” your voice broke into his mind and tore him back to reality. You waved at him, then passed a stuck-out tongue to the lawyer in a teasing fashion. “Let’s go in?”
Kirishima looked over at the lawyer who greeted a woman, who was also walking down the red carpet, a celebrity he could name no less, with a warm kiss.
Oh fuck.
He needed to call Kimiko; he was so very wrong.
You had won two awards so far, and at this very moment, Kirishima was being ushered back to his seat in the audience as you were being escorted to the main stage to perform your latest song. You had removed your gold dress for a black, sleek gown. Your lipstick changed to a dark red, and your hands trembled in the white lace gloves you wore.
“Oh, Kiri,” you wheezed almost, your hands shaking as the announcers on stage were announcing the last awards before your performance. “I’m getting nervous. What if I mess up or sing off-key? I’d be the laughing stock!”
Kirishima laughed gently, his hands easily encompassing your waist as he stilled your frantic moves. “Y/l/n y/n, if there is anything I know for sure about you is that you are one hell of a singer and a performer. The awards you’re nominated for tonight speak for themselves! You never fail at your performances, and even if you somehow manage to sing off-key, I’m sure that no one would notice! Your biggest fan in the world won’t notice, at least.”
Not more than seven days ago, when you had cried about the impending nerves of being an artist, Kirishima had come to claim the title of being your biggest fan in the world. It had made you chuckle through your tears before coming near a hysterical laugh as the two of you held each other close.
“You’re a nut, Kirishima Eijirou,” you laugh, hands resting on his lower ribs, but your smile was bright, warm. You paused a bit, fingers pulling at the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll sing just for you then, but I think I should take another swig of that soju.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Could you tell that Takeyama is completely drunk off her ass?”
“...she’s drunk?!”
“Exactly, I’ll be fine,” you breathe, taking a new smaller flask from the purse Kirishima was holding for you and taking the final swig. Your face contorts at the bitter liquid. “Ew, Kimiko really fucked me over with this one. Why is it blue?! Have you ever seen blue apple soju?!”
“No?” Kirishima startled, his eyes looking at the indeed splash of blue liquid tainting a small part of your gloves. “Who gave you that one? What happened with the other flask of yours?”
“Oh, Kimiko sent it along after I lost my other one; it’s her own flask,” you said before the backstage crew whisked you away to begin your set, and without you, Kirishima was sent to the audience.
Kirishima felt trapped as he was ushered into his seat, his eyes scanning the entire audience for something suspicious, a familiar face perhaps. His broad shoulders continued to bump into his neighbors, their disgruntled noises doing nothing to stop his worry.
“And now, Y/n,” came the strong voice of the male announcer, and the light dimmed.
Kirishima watched as the spotlight came down upon you, a golden halo of colors against your darkened gown as the instrumentals began to play in the background. And he saw you take a step forward, the building motifs suddenly silencing when you finally sang the first note.
Despite the panic arising in Kirishima, the unknown of who was behind it all, what was going to happen, he stilled at the unmatched strength and ambiance of your voice.
You sang as you did at every stage, to every audience.
There was a reason why you were considered a legend.
And then, with one last sound, one last melody, and your hand holding your microphone dropped. Your chest heaving, tears falling down your face, and the roar of the audience was silent. You looked through the audience, unable to see, but for some reason, you just knew where Kirishima was.
You smile.
But as the looming sounds begin to fill your ear again, you find that the world is hazy.
You swallow, eyes unfocused as you bowed, hurrying to leave the stage.
Kirishima watched as you took a final stumbling step off the stage, something he felt was going to be written off as you stepped on your dress. But his mind whirled.
The lawyer felt like a setup; the contracts made no sense, the blue soju.
How were they related?
What connected them?
“Oh, fuck,” Kirishima whispered, horrified, and immediately his finger pressed to his earpiece. “Find Y/n! Now!”
Kirishima was racing through the back of the venue, the announcers' voices still ringing through the dirty, bleak hallways. You had just won but was written off as being somewhere backstage; after all, the show must go on.
Voices screamed in his earpiece, each declining to have found you. No one had seen you after you stepped off the stage. No one knew who had taken you.
Kirishima noticed the doors closing at the end of the hallway, and with a dreading sense of doom, Kirishima removed the gun from his harness. And with the devil on his heels, he ran.
Kirishima panted as he looked before him.
You were passed out, draped limp, confused, and woozy against Kimiko’s body, and two men knocked unconscious beside them. To anyone else, it looked as if Kimiko had saved you, some guardian angel within this world, but if Kirishima’s gut meant anything, he knew better.
“Kirishima-san!’ Kimiko squeaked as Kirishima raised his gun, his body tense, unwilling to take a chance on her. “I don’t know what those two were doing! I was saving her, I swear!”
“Don’t do this, Kimiko,” Kirishima whispered, his head shaking. “I figured it out.”
There was a shift in Kimiko’s face at that; the scared unknowing hero melted into one of anger, resentment, one of someone who knew they had been outed.
“So, you figured it out,” she bitterly spoke, her arms that were supporting you from behind revealing to be a firearm of your own. “I didn’t expect you to.”
“I can’t say I figured out your reasoning; honestly, it doesn’t make sense to me, but I felt like it was you,” Kirishima carefully states, his heart roaring at the implied danger of the firearm against your chin. “Don’t do anything stupid, Kimiko.”
Kimiko stares, her lips forming a small o before changing into one of a large, near unattached grin.
“Anything stupid? If anyone is doing anything stupid, it's this selfish prick!” Kimiko spits, her arms tightening around you, making you whimper ever so gently in pain. “She thinks she’s so great, so rich, so smart! Just because she wastes most of her money on stupid shit like charity! Everyone thinks working for her is a dream, but they’re all blind idiots!”
Kirishima’s eyes widen as he notices the glazed, unfocused of your eyes as you shift your attention over to him. Were you listening?
“What’s wrong with the contract?” he asks, a small attempt to diffuse the situation.
“The fact she pays me next to nothing, and yet she works me half to death!”
“You have multiple clients, don’t you?” Kirishima splutters, unsure as to what was wrong. “Why is this one contract so important you wanted to frame her lawyer?!”
Kimiko laughs; it’s pitchy, almost hysterical as she bends over, your body slumping further onto the floor. “That was a lie! All a fucking lie! Do you know that I knew no one when I first started? Y/n is a name everyone wants. I don’t need to do anything to get her things! The world wants her! But the other clients? None of them stayed, none of them wanted me past a month! The salary was okay when she was a snot-nosed brat, but ten years later?! NO! She won’t fucking listen. She never fucking listens to anything but herself! So she has the option to give me the eighty percent, or fucking die here!”
Suddenly the gun in Kirishima’s hand feels like a ton, the skin on the back of his neck crawling and slicking with sweat.
“You know how much those charities mean to her,” Kirishima whispers. “She won’t do it.”
Kimiko trembles for a second, her arm holding the firearm lowering as she looks at the wall, shaking.
“Oh my god… you’re right,” Kimiko realizes, horror and uncertainty flashing across her face. “I guess… she has to die, oh my god, she has to die.”
At that moment, the world slowed down, and Kirishima swore he could see the atoms, the electricity flowing through the space between them. Kimiko’s arm holding the gun raising back up to your temple, her smile detached, horrific yet gleeful.
His body trembled as he doubted himself, his mind unsure if the finger on the trigger was going to be strong enough to fire away. Could he do it?
Was he ready?
Actually ready?
Save her, his past whispered.
Save her, his nightmares screamed.
Save her, his heart yelled.
Kirishima raised his arm, his focus blaring, his past just for a moment, forgotten.
BANG!
“The effects of the rohypnol have already worn out. Thankfully she wasn’t given a whole pill. If she experiences any nausea or throws up, please bring her back, should anything else happen, she’ll be okay.”
The words of the doctor rang in Kirishima’s ears. For tonight, they were going to be discharging you to him. Thankfully, it was all happening in Tokyo, so Kirishima’s apartment was near, and if Bakugou was true to his word, it was clean.
With the help of hospital security, he had managed to get your tuxedo concealed body into a car, and the two of you rode off to his apartment. You’ve been silent the entire time, eyes downcasted as you sit pressed to his side, feeling like a small child compared to him. You knew that he was much larger than you, a near two feet taller, but this felt unmatched.
Kirishima’s jacket was warm around you, it’s sheer largeness another dress on your body, and despite the horrific turn of events, you were feeling warm. You couldn’t remember much of what transpired after stumbling off stage, but you did remember Kirishima bursting through the doors, a look of anger and fear blistering off his person in such a way that made you whimper when you remembered.
You remembered the onsen basically every night, cursing your stupid makeup team for interrupting a night that definitely would have ended with you fucking Kirishima. You cursed yourself for being a coward and not just saying fuck it and fucking him afterward despite the brief awkwardness.
He wanted you, it was clear as day, and you wanted him as well.
Tonight.
“Sorry about how small my apartment is, or if it’s messy, I don’t actually know if my friends have been keeping up with it,” Kirishima apologized, guiding you into the apartment by the small of your back. “You’ll be safe here tonight, and I promise we can get back to your own place tomorrow!”
“Oh, don’t apologize, it’s okay,” you smile, feeling flushed as you cross the entryway to the apartment. His apartment, despite not being home in so long, is clean. The halls aren’t messy, and a hint of lavender is saturated to the air. The dim hallway lights were barely bright enough to cause you to squint as it was dark out. “Thank you for having me tonight, especially after everything.”
At the hospital, you had been given a pair of sweats and a cotton t-shirt. The change in outfit from your event dress was definitely needed, and even though you were sure your makeup was streaked down your face, you felt good hidden in the depths of Kirishima’s jacket.
“Are you hungry?” Kirishima asked, handing over his guest slippers, which you gratefully accepted. “I might have some microwaveable food leftover.”
“Ramen doesn’t sound too bad,” you admit as Kirishima unbuttons the first few buttons on his white dress shirt. You were instantly captivated by the movement, your eyes shifting back to his face when he began to walk off towards the kitchen.
Kirishima talked warmly, keeping the conversation going merrily and bright throughout the entire time in the kitchen. He undoubtedly knew you weren’t entirely okay, and at moments like this, you were entirely grateful for his sweet personality.
To be fair, you knew that you had been quite unfair to Kirishima in the beginning. Looking back at the first entire month of knowing him, you were horrified and impressed that Kirishima didn’t demand to be dropped. You had been selfish, stubborn, a bottom line brat, and he took it day after day. It wasn’t that you disliked him back then; hell, you had been in a near state of delirium when he entered the door during your first meeting because you had no idea such huge men existed to the caliber of his hotness.
But you resisted and might have been harsher than needed.
It was okay now; after all, if he was genuinely bitter about that entire month still, the onsen said otherwise.
It didn’t take long for your stomach to be filled with warm broth, soft boiled eggs, and ramen noodles. Kirishima did, in fact, have ramen, fresh eggs, and some vegetables. In a grand act of preparing you the most sufficient dinner he could, Kirishima presented this under budget ramen and laughed when you said it was terrific.
But it was growing late.
The two of you still sat at his table that was full of a card game, your empty ramen bowls, and cups of water. The clock on the oven read 23:38, and the city lights were slowly dying.
“Are you ready for bed?” Kirishima eventually asked you.
You looked up from your joined hands; your fingers had been playing with his thick and long fingers for some time now. The apartment grew steadily quieter as you studied and attempted to memorize each callous and scar on his hands. They were definitely marked and nicked, the sign of the warrior he once was.
“Depends on the bed,” you tease, lips rising into a small smile as you compare your much tinier hands than his. Your fingertips barely passed the edge of his palm. “What does a big guy like you sleep in? A twin? Tatami mat?”
Kirishima laughed, his hands twisting in yours, wrapping it around so that he raised your hands up to press a kiss to the center of your palms.
“A futon, brat,” Kirishima explained, his smile small but sharp with his humor. “Let’s get you to bed?”
You frown.
“Where will you be sleeping then?”
“My couch is just fine.”
“I’m sure your stuffing in a trash bag had holes in it.”
“That’s okay,” Kirishima laughed, standing up and quickly taking you to your feet as well. “It’s just for a night, I’ll live.”
Your face warmed immediately as he guided you down the hallway of his apartment before finally coming into what was definitely his room.
Kirishima’s scent was faint in this room, cinnamon, wood, and warm spices. It made your eyes flutter as you observed his room from the entryway as he began to set up the room.
His eye for interior decoration was quite… different. You smiled brightly as you glanced around; the diverse and rather boyish decorations around the room warmed your heart. It seemed exactly like what you would think of for Kirishima.
“Well, that’s all!” Kirishima exclaimed, his hands landing on his hips in triumph as he looked around. “The bathroom is the next door over, and I’ll leave a toothbrush out for you. I also left out a new t-shirt of mine if you want to change!”
You nod some more, watching as Kirishima seems unsure of what to do next. He looks around, coughs a bit before nodding.
“Okay, I’ll be leaving—”
“Um, can we talk?” you interrupt, arms wrapping around your body. “I have some things I want to say.”
“Oh, sure!”
“You can sit,” you say, motioning toward the bed. “I have a few things to get off my chest.”
Kirishima pauses for a bit, his eyes looking you over before he eventually nods, and he sits down. The bed slightly creaks under his weight, and you feel your body warm-up at the sound. You want to hear the bed creak more, to rock under the weight of you and him pressed against the sheets as you cried his name.
“What is it?” he asks gently, observing you.
“I just…” you huff, words failing you, your tongue feeling heavy. “I wanted to say thank you for saving me.”
“It was my job to do that,” Kirishima smiled warmly, his arms crossing again.
He was relaxed.
“I mean, I can’t even begin to believe that it was Kimiko who was behind all that, even though we know it was… I know it was,” you trail off, shivering slightly as you remember your ex-managers demented laugh in your ear. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
“Nothing would’ve happened to you,” Kirishima spoke with finality. “I promised to myself at the first meeting I was going to protect you, hell the entire world would. You’re not going to be taken down by pathetic people like that, not you.”
“Really?”
“One hundred percent.”
“I feel like I should repay you in some way, though,” you rub the back of your neck, eyes fluttering just the slightest bit flirtatious. Kirishima looked at you with full mooned eyes, his arms unfolding and his palms resting onto the bedspread.
“You repay me plenty already,” came his whispered answer, so quiet, so pure you almost smiled. “You don’t have to do anything.”
Your tongue pushes past your lip, wetting the drying skin as you take a step toward him. The shoulders of the jacket slowly fall from your own shoulders, pooling just above your elbows as you stop before him, hands resting daintily on his broad shoulders.
“And what if I want something?” you ask, finding yourself stemming with energy as his legs part, allowing you closer access to him.
You step in closer and closer until your outer thighs are ghosting against the inner part of his.
“I think it’s in our contract for me to do everything that you request if I remember correctly,” Kirishima whispers, his bright clear red eyes turning a burnt shade: dark and ever consuming.
“And if I want you to finish what you started over at the onsen?” you press, fingers curling against the muscles of his shoulders before locking behind his neck.
His nose was brushing against yours, cold yet burning against your own skin.
“I’ll gladly show you what I wanted to do that night,” he grunts, eyes deadly, and for the first time, his hands held your waist.
You took a second to recover, your skin sparking with the electricity of his touch, and you suppressed a shiver as you opened your eyes.
“Do it,” you cement your fates, “coward.”
And just like that, in a movement so euphoric, Kirishima’s mouth crashed against yours.
His mouth was hot, dangerous against yours -- a live wire sparking with uncontrollable energy and heat as your mouths danced. Hot puffs of air were passed between your mouths, your fingers shaking with an undeniable release of tension and want.
The kiss was sloppy, desperate, so needy with unspoken frantic determination to fuck each other until the other could no longer move.
Kirishima’s hand removed the jacket from your arms, letting the expensive material fall onto the floor with a heavy thud. Despite the lack of warmth the clothing provided, the feeling of Kirishima’s hands rubbing against your bare arms sent your mind spiraling.
“Get on the bed,” Kirishima commands against your mouth. “Let me fuck you.”
The words were nearly embarrassingly desperate, but the tone of his voice spoke of the absolute domination he wished to assert on you. He wanted you in one exact way, and you had a feeling you knew what it was. But if he had been paying attention, Kirishima should already know that getting you to listen was not easy.
“No,” you grin against his mouth.
Kirishima pulls away instantly, his lips red and swollen as he replays your word in his head. He looks frazzled, absolutely delirious already at the simple, passion-filled makeout. As soon as his eyes clear away the fog, your grin drops, and instead, you look at him with fierce determination and defiance.
“No?” he repeats.
“No,” you confirm.
Your chest feels light, your head spinning as the hands on your waist tighten, and his eyes flash dangerously. The tip of his tongue pushes past his lips before quickly disappearing again.
“Of course, you’re a brat in bed too, such a fucking princess,” Kirishima shakes his head, but his mouth curving into a shark-like grin.
Menacing, promising, sending chilling shivers down your spine.
The world spins faster than you can keep up, your mouth opening to shriek as Kirishima easily lifts you up, and has you lying against his lap.
“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, princess,” Kirishima begins, his large fingers hooking into the waistband of the sweats you have on and the panties you’re wearing. “My princess gets rewards for being good. If she can behave properly, she gets to be fucked with dick, her pussy gets to be fucked just the way she pleases.”
You can’t help but stifle a moan that threatens to spill out with his words and the way his hands move down the curve of your ass, exposing the naked skin to him. The waistband of both your panties and sweats stay high up your thighs, and it’s almost embarrassing to know you’re still so clothed despite what’s to come.
“And just what does the Sergeant do to bad girls?” you ask, unable to keep your tongue down, your hips rolling against his lap in undeserved friction.
Unexpectedly, abruptly, a hand comes down harshly onto your bare ass.
The contact is rough, stinging against your ass as you cry out in slight pain.
The hand not currently rubbing a warning circle into your ass twists the hair at the top of your head, lifting your head up so that your ear could near his mouth.
“Bad girls get punishments. They get what I want to give them. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Holy shit,” you whimper, heat flaring between your thighs at the thought of Kirishima doing anything to you regardless of if you were good or bad. You rut your ass back against his hand, longing for a heavier touch, a plea for something more.
“What does the princess want?”
“Nothing,” you bite, and the crashing smack of another spank has you moaning loudly at the stinging pleasure-filled pain.
“You moaning like a whore at a simple spank says otherwise,” Kirishima chuckles darkly, his fingers pinching your stinging ass as your body bucks against him. He spanks you again, again, and again. Each slap is intentful, powerful, wanting to get you to admit what you want, and you cry against your hands each time, your eyes fluttering as the pain feels good.
“Of course, a slut like you would be getting off on this,” Kirishima seems amused, his thick finger pressing to the slit of your cunt, spreading your dripping essence against your cunt. He presses against your entrance with just the tip of his finger, and you shriek in a sound for more, your hips jerking backward to get his finger into you, to fuck you with those thick fingers to do something about the growing desperate heat.
“Kirishima!” you scream, your body sweating and twisting on his lap, desperate to find some way to get him to finger fuck you.
“Ah, there we go,” he sighs in delight as his fingers swirl at your entrance, increasing the teasing and making your mind spin. “Tell me what you want, brat.”
“You!” you wail, two of his fingers carting between your wet, sloppy heated lips. They graze your clit, stimulating you further as you can do nothing but instinctively jerk against his hold, trying to get him to give you the needed pleasure to build up to an orgasm. “I want you to fuck me so good! Please, Sergeant, please, I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember anything but your name.”
“But you haven’t proven to be a good princess,” Kirishima tuts, his hands disappearing from your pussy despite your crying pleas. His hand grabs your ass, though, massaging the abused skin, grasping it tightly.
You moan, embarrassed at the sensation of his massive hand easily cupping your ass cheek, your fingers fisting into the fabric of his pants as you shake your head.
“Are you going to prove that you’re good?” he asks you, his tone like that of a parent chastising a child. “Gonna prove to me that you can be good?”
You shake pathetically against his legs, but you can’t keep yourself from shaking your head. You can’t prove to him that you would be.
“I can’t!” you whimper loudly, your body twisting on his lap to look up at him, your eyes filled with tears and pleading need. Kirishima looked down at you with lust filled eyes and an undeniable need to be followed.
“You can’t?” he repeats, his head tilting, eyes narrowing, and his fingers dug into your ass. “Or you won’t?”
You tremble on top of him, unable to answer because you weren’t ready to hand over the reins just yet. You didn’t want to submit so fast, you wanted to make his own head dizzy with need but the stubbornness to continue punishing you the way he was promising.
“I won’t,” you gasp, eyes fluttering at the way he finally drops your head.
You gasp loudly as you find him shoving you off his lap, and with your panties and sweats sitting so awkwardly high on your legs, you find yourself tumbling off his lap and onto the floor.
“Guess if you don’t want to behave, I’ll treat you like some fucking pussy pocket and dispose of you once I’m done,” Kirishima easily breathes, and you look up at the now standing man as he tears his shirt off.
Your mouth waters, your cunt throbbing at the sight of the rippling muscles and dark lines of his tattoos on his upper body. You watch fascinated, like one does to a masterpiece, as he undresses until he’s in nothing but his socks. And at the sight of his dick, you can feel at once all the blood in your flushed face drop directly into your throbbing cunt.
He was fucking enormous, his girth barely fitting into his hand, and the angry red head spilled its precum against his abs. A black happy trail connecting Kirishima’s abs to his vein throbbing cock.
Holy fuck, he could quickly kill you with that.
Kirishima doesn’t ask any questions as he watches your awkwardly dressed state of a body on the floor. His head is tilted upwards, a small pleased smile on his face as he looks down on you, his hand slowly, leisurely fisting his cock as you can do nothing but stare.
You make some insane noise at the back of your throat at this sight, your thighs trembling with need, and you're pushing off your side, your ass burning, and your balance off as you open your mouth, offering all you could to him.
And thankfully, Kirishima allows it.
He’s much too tall for you to suck him off on your knees, so he sits back down onto the bed, letting you scamper between his legs, mouth open wide like some needy pet.
“Such a good little slut,” Kirishima sighs, sinking his cock into your wet, hot mouth. “Such a fucking cockwhore, all it took was a single glance for you to lose your will.”
You whine against his dick, your jaw tight with the stretch, your tongue lapping so desperately around the cock that was no more than halfway in yet couldn’t go in any further.
“Suck me right, and I’ll reward you by fucking that pretty little pussy of yours,” Kirishima grunts, his fingers pressing into the side of your neck as he ruts his hips up into your mouth, shoving his cock even further into your mouth. “And don’t you dare look away from me while you suck me off.”
It feels like fire.
His cock driving down your throat hurts, the taste of his salty pre-cum slathering all over your tongue and dripping out of your mouth with the saliva you can’t control. His cock hits the back of your throat, and you continue to bob your head, continue to fuck him with your throat as animalistic, praiseworthy noises begin spilling from Kirishima’s mouth.
You whimper at the sight of his head dipping back, and you nearly whine when he shoves the fingers he had gathered your juices on into his mouth. He moans at the contact and with his pleasure with your actions so obvious as you choke against his girth. That was hot, holy fuck, you wanted him to fuck you, please fuck you.
Your eyes close as he begins to fuck faster into your mouth, his delight in hearing you choke around him his driving force. Tears start pouring from your eyes despite your best efforts, your throat and inner thighs burning with lust and need as Kirishima groans, his cock twitching deep in your throat.
Slap!
“Hey!”
Slap!
You gag harshly as your cheeks sting with his heavy slap, your teeth grazing underneath his cock, right against a thick, twisting vein.
“Did I tell you to close your eyes?” Kirishima practically growls, his hands grasping the back of your neck, the other one slapping you across the face yet again. “No. I said… fuck… I said, keep your eyes on me!”
Tears weep down your face, your eyes struggling to keep focus on him as he continued to fuck deep and intensely into your mouth, shoving himself further into you until you could feel his thighs grazing your chin. Oxygen wasn’t flowing anymore; your gags and chokes the only time the burning element could manage to flow through you, but Kirishima doesn’t seem to care. He seems to delight in the way you are, despite it all, are moaning and looking at him in a pleading way for more.
More, you plead.
And he delivers.
Kirishima pulls his still hard, not yet cummed, dick out of your mouth and stands.
You splutter with the sudden intake of oxygen to your lungs, burning you from the inside out as you splutter on the ground.
“W-What’s going on?” you hoarsely stammer, your jaw and throat aching from its prolonged abuse. “E-Ei?”
However, Kirishima seems dead set on getting you naked, and you squeal in flustered excitement as he rips the shirt off of you and his mouth pressing against yours again. His mouth crashes against yours, and you moan into his mouth immediately.
His tongue curls into your mouth and your tongues press and rub against each other. Each passing second growing more desperate, needier, more intense as your clothes are ripped one by one off your body.
“Holy fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long,” Kirishima nearly whines, his mouth trailing down your neck, biting and sucking against every centimeter of skin he passed. “Wanted to fuck you against the wall, in my bed, and now I get to do that.”
“Please, please, fuck me, please,” you beg, your voice bordering a wail as your arms wrap around his neck, letting him lift you up off the floor. Despite you being so much smaller than him that when he held you to him, your cunt wasn’t pressed to his angry leaking cock, you continued to desperately roll your hips against his abs, the friction welcomed and easing the building pressure. It was an action conveying just what you wanted. “I need you in me, Sergeant!”
“Just cuz… holy fuck,” Kirishima breathes ragged, his body twisting around, and you cried when the cold sheets pressed into your back. “Imma fuck you, Imma… god, just fucking watch.”
Your head thrashed back onto the pillow as Kirishima’s teeth sunk into your collarbone, then captured your sensitive nipples, his fingers dancing against your clit and teasing your center.
“Now!” you cry, fingers digging into his shoulder. “Put it in!”
This time, Kirishima didn’t need to be told twice.
His larger body was suddenly pressed entirely against yours, dwarfing you immediately as your arms wrapped around his back as his cock slammed into you. You screamed at the sudden intrusion, your pussy stretched beyond its typical limits by his girth, his size, his power.
Your cunt throbbed around him, your face buried within his pecs as you, despite the searing pain, shove your hips up towards him. Fucking into him, sucking him further into you.
“Holy shit,” Kirishima groans, “you’re amazing.”
“Talk less, fuck me more!” you screech, your body spasming, twitching so hard from the splitting pleasure and the lava pit in your stomach, and Kirishima does that exactly.
His hips begin to meet yours in equaled power, slamming into you so that the bed creaked beneath you. He fucked you until he had to hold a hand on your hip so you could stay there, and you kept a hand on the wall to continue to push yourself down onto his cock.
You screamed with pleasure, cried for more, Kirishima’s shark-like smirk getting bolder, darker, hotter with every slam of his hips until his tattooed right arm shot down. His hand wrapped around your throat, choking you.
“You’re so loud, princess,” Kirishima moans, clearly liking your loud noises, “but you’re going to wake everyone in Tokyo.”
His hand around your throat is enough to have your legs trembling around his waist, your choked and muffled moans and splutters drowning out even more as he pressed a kiss onto you. He kissed you, licking your mouth, and devouring your every word and thought. Your core twisted, tightened, and burned. It throbbed and clenched with it’s impending orgasm, and your body began to tense to the heavens as his cock throbbed deep within you.
“Who saved you?”
“E-Ei did,” you garble.
“Who’s fucking you?”
“E-Ei is!”
“Who’s going to fucking cum when I tell her to?”
“Me! Fuck, me!”
Kirishima laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist, and in one final, fleeting burst of strength, fucks into you with his own power, needs, and desire, and you can only take it. “Cum, princess,” he whispered almost sweetly against the top of your head, and it was all over. Your teeth sink into his chest as you scream, a blinding white light erupting through your vision as you cum around his cock.
Kirishima whimpers, his cock still pushing deep into your cunt, until you can feel the warm spill of his seed in your womb.
He collapses to the side of you, taking you with him so that you were resting on his sweaty chest.
“Holy shit,” Kirishima whispered after a bit, your body already warm and too lethargic to notice the star-like tone to his voice. “That was fucking… holy shit.”
“Does this mean you like me?” you half tease, half wonder.
There’s a pause, a silence, and you wonder if maybe he had fallen asleep.
But he didn’t.
“I’ve been in love with you for some time now, I think,” he admits, his hand beginning to rub small circles into your back.
You find that despite the exhaustion, warmth floods your cheeks.
“Oh?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I guess we’re going to have to discuss a more… permanent and maybe different contract tomorrow morning, huh?”
Kirishima chuckles, and you find yourself smiling into his chest.
“I think we do.”
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distance learning (m)
banner done by the beautiful @eerieedits
summary; after their first hookup, jungkook isn’t so sure whether you’re serious about being exclusive. after all, people say things during sex. jungkook takes it in his own hands to figure out where you stand, and he realizes soon enough that eavesdropping is a bad habit
pairing; neighbor!jungkook x (f) reader
genre/warnings; fluff, humor, crack, insecure!jk, unresolved sexual tension, stressed!mc, this is really just unnecessary drama bc drama is fun™, sexting, dom kook’s still a meanie in control, posession kink, cock slapping, a blowjob, cockwarming, unprotected, creampie, squirting, (wrap the pickle before u tickle folks) and of course the excessive use of the petname [redacted]
w/c; 6.1k
a/n; haaaaaa three months later im finally posting pt 2! i figured that no matter how many times i edit/reread at this point i think it’s time to finally let this beast go!!! enjoyyy
click here for part 1: remote learning
drabbles; 01
if you enjoy this, please considering giving our pasta couple a like n’share💚
It’s been a week since the thing.
The remote-controlled vibrator thing.
The whole sappy-love-confesion-during-sex thing.
Jungkook is antsy, tail tucked in, perpetually wondering whether he went too far. You seemed to like it, and Jungkook definitely loved it. It was spicy and dirty and hot, and at the same time Jungkook thought he really made progress in expressing his feelings for you. Not only that, you said you liked him back!
At least, he thought you did.
“I really said I’d feed her lasagna and cum in the same sentence,” Jungkook bemoans into his pillow, which still lingers faintly of your Redken shampoo. “I’m disgusting. She thinks I’m disgusting.”
People say things during sex, Jungkook knows that. In the throes of passion and pleasure, people will say anything that comes to their mind, anything that fits the mood. Of course, you’d be tied in and say you like him back. But did you like him back as a friend? As a fuckbuddy? As something more?
“Fucking text her,” Taehyung is tired of Jungkook’s wallowing, everytime he checks in on the app developer he’s brooding in one of three places. Today’s his bedroom. Taehyung dips under the blankets, and steals Jungkook’s pillow right under his nose.
Jungkook suppresses a whimper, face melding into the blankets. Now that pillow is going to smell like Taehyung.
“Text her what,” Jungkook replies despondently.
“I don’t know, something along the lines of ‘I wanna follow through with my proposition of feeding you my cum and lasagna—not simultaneously. Wanna go on a date this weekend?’ It’s that simple,” Taehyung gets up in Jungkook’s face, dark eyes forcing him to bore right in. “Want me to do it for you?”
“Noo, I’m an adult I can—”
“I did it for you.”
Jungkook nearly knocks into Taehyung’s hard head, sitting up straight when he notices his phone behind his roommate’s back. This is what he gets for sharing passwords. Thankfully, the message is cleaner than Taehyung’s words, and you’ve already replied.
[1:23] Jungkook: would you like to go out for dinner this weekend? pasta and wine?
[1:25] You: it’s a busy week this week 🥺 raincheck?
“Was the sex that bad?” Taehyung frowns, reading the message twice.
“N-no,” Jungkook is sweating. He isn’t sure anymore.
Taehyung hands Jungkook back his phone, slowly, as if you’ll reply back with a change of your mind. Jungkook is a deflated balloon on his bed, feeling like a bum in his ratty sweater and a dateless weekend.
“It’s just that,” Taehyung puts a hand on his lip, mulling, “busy people don’t reply that fast. Like even if she wasn’t busy, there’s a fifteen-minute leeway before replying.”
This silly rule overrides Jungkook’s mind for the rest of the week.
The gyms have been reopened for months, and Jungkook’s trainer misses him dearly. Jungkook meets with Saeroyi in the morning, eager to get a few jabs in with some fresh equipment. He tries to move on, distract himself with a couple of pumps and a match with Saeroyi. It feels great to sweat it off, but it doesn’t help sway Jungkook’s incessant thoughts.
The ball is in your court now, Jungkook has nothing to do but wait. Some people are just bad texters, maybe you just happened to have your phone near you when Taehyung sent the message. Maybe you just wanted to cut Jungkook off as quickly as possible so you decided to reply fast and rip the band-aid.
No, you’re definitely not that cold-hearted.
Re-entering his apartment complex, his eyes linger towards where your room lies on the first floor. It’s all the way at the end of the hallway, and he’s tempted to just confront you and make sure that what you and him really had is indeed, over. Conversely, you could just really be having a bad week and you genuinely do want a raincheck.
Jungkook’s eyes trail to his form. Still in his gym clothes, and a little sweaty from the travel time. If he gets caught, he can just tell you he’s doing a cooldown by running across the hallways. Not the first time it’s happened, afterall it led him to you at one point.
He breaks into a soft jog, making a beeline to your front door. His feet squish against your old welcome mat. You haven’t changed it since Halloween, and he smiles fondly at the black scripted “Boo Y’all” written in script next to a chibi-ghost.
His heart beats faster as his hand lingers by the door, ready to knock. Deep breaths. Who knows, he could just be overthinking (like usual.)
“Fuck, Hobi!”
Jungkook freezes, his knuckles a centimeter away from your door. He backs up as if he’s been burned. His heart has fallen all the way down to his ass, and intends to stay there because now he feels like a damn fool.
The bed is creaking relentlessly, a rhythmic pattern that has Jungkook’s face crumbling at every spring. Jungkook’s face hovers over the door, his ear brushing against the wood.
“C’mon, bunny,” the male voice is teasing, “you know you love having me over. It would satisfy both of us if you’d just let it go.”
Bunny. A cute pet name, for sure. The way it rolls off the stranger’s tongue is natural, as if he’s been saying it for years. But what about being his doll, is that not good enough?
You’re huffy, taking deep breaths. He doesn’t want to hear anymore. Jungkook has put himself through enough self-wallowing for the week. What if he was just a stepping stone to meeting new people that will satisfy you better? What if you just needed one good orgasm to get your flow back, and Jungkook’s job is done? Sure, there were no strings attached when he proposed to have sex with you, but he thought…
No more thinking. Jungkook jogs away from the door, even going so far is to jog all the way up to the penthouse.
He hates this.
You hate this.
It’s been five days since Hoseok’s arrival, and you are going bonkers. Why couldn’t he get a hotel or an AirBnB? Because he’s cheap as fuck, that’s why. Your dinky cousin has been clinging to you like a lonely koala, and while you found it cute in the 5th grade, it doesn’t translate well nearly two decades later.
Every morning is the same. You make a subpar toast and Nutella breakfast, letting Hoseok’s slices go cold as you log in for work. You’ve been clocking in earlier in the hopes to finish the majority of your tasks before Hoseok wakes up, because by then you can barely function. Once he wakes up, he’s relentless, bouncing on the bed and talking your head off while you try to concentrate on whatever your boss is telling you. Whenever he jumps too hard, your cheap mattress causes your laptop to fly, and the only thing you can do is curse him out. Sometimes he plays Disney movies and sings in tandem, choreography and all.
You know that Hoseok is stressed and this is his outlet, and you don’t have it in you to stop his incessant habits. He’s visiting your area because of a lucrative job offer nearby and the interviews are sporadic, making Hoseok linger in your apartment for hours at a time until he’s summoned for whatever test they want to throw at him.
Most of the interviews are in the evening, and it’s when you can clock back in and finish your leftover assignments while Hoseok is also working. By the time he returns, you’re dog tired and so is he.
Every night, you try to move away from Hoseok’s clingy self, as he grapples onto your waist and slings a thigh over your belly. You wish it were someone else sharing the bed with you.
If you bring Jungkook into the picture however, you’d be burnt for the week. Complete crumbs. It would be too much stimulation for you, having to balance work, Hoseok’s incessant attitude, and putting on a face for Jungkook. Your relationship with the penthouse neighbor is barely budding, hardly watered considering Hoseok’s sudden visit. You cling to the fact that in a couple days you would be giving your undivided attention to Jungkook, most of your priorities out of the way, and most importantly, you’ll have your own room back.
Maybe you could surprise him by giving him a pasta dinner, just like he proposed.
Unable to get the thought out of your head, you blindly reach for your phone on the nightstand. It’s late, very late for a workday. The blue screen burns your eyes a bit, but you're determined to at least check up on Jungkook. You can’t take too long, otherwise you won’t be able to sleep and get him out of your head. Dear, unassuming cousin Hoseok is fast asleep next to you, due to the fact it’s nearly midnight. Making sure not to disrupt him, you carefully cup your phone in your hands, putting it on the lowest light setting.
[11:54] You: hey, hope work hasnt been as draining for u as it’s been for me ☠️ what’s your opinion on pasta sauces, red or white?
Jungkook is normally a fast texter, at least from your experience. It’s you that’s the sporadic texter, sometimes taking hours to reply, other times in seconds. It never really mattered until now, however. But it takes five, ten, and finally fifteen minutes before you get a response.
[12:09] Jungkook: ???
You frown, wondering what you said wrong.
[12:10] You: do you not wanna do pasta anymore? Are you craving something else now?
[12:10] Jungkook: i don’t think it’d work out
[12:10] You: why?
[12:11] Jungkook: im sure you know why, bunny.
Strange. He’s never called you bunny before, and in your opinion you think he’d be the bunny in the relationship—soft and cuddly on the outside, and an absolute horn ball in bed. Is this some sort of weird power play? Is he being passive aggressive on purpose? Whatever this game is, you’re not into it. Grumbling under your breath, you snake out of bed, looking blindly for your slippers in the dark. You’ll be in and out of Jungkook’s apartment in ten minutes.
Just as your hand brushes the doorknob, your new roommate calls for you.
“Bunny?” Hoseok calls blearily, and you’re staring straight at his cookie-printed eye mask, “what time is it, where are you going?”
“Um, out,” you reply shortly, “I forgot I left my laundry in the dryer.”
“Oh, m’kay. Come back soon, y’know I can’t sleep alone.”
It’s then you realize. Bunny. Jungkook thinks that Hoseok and you are a thing. He really needs to stop eavesdropping on you.
You feel your pussy frown. Your cousin is such a cockblock and he doesn’t even know it. Without an answer, you slip through your door and into the first free elevator. As you zing up the floors with the magical 1234 code, you work and rework your hair in and out of its style, wondering if you’ll look more presentable with your hair messy or thrown back.
As soon as you reach the penthouse, you burst into action. “Jungkook!” you cry, pounding the front door, “it’s a misunderstanding, open up!”
The door immediately swings open after the first three knocks, and you punch Taehyung in the chest.
“You look awful,” Kim Taehyung drawls. Taehyung is wearing nothing but a cranberry red silk kimono, and you have to avert your eyes and focus on his face, which is even worse because he’s looking at you like an all-knowing psychic.
“Gee, thanks,” you try to move past him, but he’s blocking the door.
“Jungkook’s in a meeting with some foriegn developers,” Taehyung talks with his hands, pretending like he has any idea of the nature of his roommate’s job, “when it’s this late he doesn’t leave his office until morning. Door’s locked.”
“Well then, can you relay a message?”
“Depends, is this message going to hurt him further?”
Oh my goodness, when Taehyung wants to be he is such an enabler. “Tell Jungkook he’s done wallowing. Instead of jumping to conclusions, maybe he should’ve just asked me why we couldn’t go on a date this week.”
“You could’ve also just told him you have a man on the side.”
“Ohmygod you two are two iotas of a combined braincell!” you shove your hands in your pocket, hotly scrolling through your phone so you can shove a picture in his face. “This is Jung Hoseok, my cousin who derailed my plans this week by crashing in my too-tiny apartment and forced me to raincheck with Jungkook. He’s a blabbermouth and would tell everyone—my parents, my grandparents, my great-aunts—about Jungkook if he found out I was dating, and I’m not ready for that,” you zoom in on the picture, despite the fact that the screen is practically touching Taehyung’s nose, “and the reason Hoseok calls me bunny is not sexual—you two are fucking gross—I had front tooth problems in elementary school and I had a brace on my two big teeth, it was not pretty.”
“Ah, bunny.” Taehyung echoes with wide eyes, looking at you as if you’re now the one with sage wisdom, “it all makes sense now.” He gulps, taking in the old photo of a mini-Hoseok and you, yourself frowning to cover your huge braces and Hoseok trying to pull your gums apart with his greasy little fingers.
Satisfied by Taehyung’s evident squirming, you decide you’re too tired to further this interaction. “Tell the other half of your cell for me, will ya?” You’re already turning away, pressing repeatedly at the elevator button, “I would love to go on a date with him as soon as he gets his head out of his ass.”
Jungkook is tired, but not tired enough to murder Taehyung and make it look like an accident.
When he has late meetings, Taehyung is usually quieter around the apartment, and even gets Jungkook a hot meal once he wakes up in the afternoons. Today, Jungkook slept through and through. Normally he’d wake up midway to Taehyung’s television dramas, or the clanging of last night’s dishes but nope, not a peep.
And today’s hot meal is takeout from Jungkook’s favorite ramen restaurant. That only means one thing—something has gone to shit and Taehyung feels guilty.
Jungkook sips his tonkotsu impossibly slow, hearing Taehyung’s words—your words from last night—clear as day. Taehyung even describes in detail where the nickname bunny comes from, down to how miserable you looked in the photo with your monstrously metal-bent teeth. Oh, how he wishes he can swaddle you between the blankets, hold you and comfort you while you deal with your family.
[2:45] Jungkook: doll, im so sorry
[2:45] Jungkook: please, i booked us a weekend at that new spa that just opened downtown. The tickets are flex, so if your cousin doesn’t leave by then week we can always reschedule
[2:51] Jungkook: baby doll…
This is far worse than believing you didn’t like him. Now Jungkook is antsy, knowing you deserve all the space in the world because of how silly he was being. You owe him nothing. If he just waited it out until you were ready, he wouldn’t be in this mess. He’s potato-esque throughout the day, thankfully Taehyung gives him space as he watches hours of mindless television.
You don’t reply until very late into the night.
[10:10] You: IM ALIVE--barely!! And mr. jeon, you’re not only a triple texter, but an ellipsis texter???? You’re asking for trouble
Jungkook has no shame, immediately texting you back. He can’t help it, he’s smitten.
[10:12] Jungkook: taehyung explained everything. It’s all his fault. Don’t ask why, it’s his fault. Im so sorry.
[10:12] You: mm, it’s okay. Just a misunderstanding. I was pretty upset last night, but i’ve been pretty tired this week so my fuse is short.
[10:14] Jungkook: you should go to sleep now, doll. We’ll have time together after your cousin leaves
[10:14] You: just a couple more minutes. Miss u and your cute face
[10:16] Jungkook:
[10:16] Jungkook: will this hold u off until saturday?
Jungkook is a pile of goo. Pink, warm, happy heart-glittered goo. It takes a minute for you to reply, and for that whole minute Jungkook is kicking his legs under the sheets of his bed like an eager five-year old who just gave his crush his Valentine. Maybe it’s taking you so long to reply because you’re trying to send a selfie of your own, running off to the bathroom to take a cute selfie if your cousin is asleep in bed.
[10:19] You: fuck, i kno that’s supposed to be a cute selfie, but i want you so bad. I want to sit on your face, let your lips glisten with my pussy as i cum all over that pretty face
[10:19] You: i wanna touch myself so badly but fuckin’ hoseok is out here snoring like he’s gon hack a lung. Panties are so wet 🥺🥺 your doll is needy for you, wanna be played with
[10:20] Jungkook: lfjsdl;fkjs;fjsoisfoisljsdfsdklfjsdklf
He throws his phone across the bed, feeling himself twitch in his red flannel pyjama bottoms. The thought of you so hot and needy when you’re ten floors down has Jungkook absolutely livid. He doesn’t know how he’s going to talk to you, comfort you without missing you like crazy.
Jungkook thinks back to what he has in his fridge. His contractor sent him a cheese assortment, maybe he can bring it down pretending to be a friendly neighbor. Maybe Hoseok can go to the convenience store to conveniently grab a bottle of wine. He can make both of you cum in five minutes, flat.
Akin to a dumb, horny teenager, he sighs. He rubs his palm longingly over his member. He’s horny, but he’s also eager to see your face. Talk to you, get reacquainted with your routine and sneak his way into it. He wants to be a part of your life, and he’s hoping you will too.
[5:02] You: Jungkook, you left me hanging last night
[5:05] Jungkook: baby doll… i wouldnt have been able to handle myself if we continued
[5:06] You: so you decided to dip :(
[5:06] You: could u play with your doll a lil bit, kook? Hobi left for another interview
[5:08] You: PNG.0901
Jungkook was a fool to believe that you would drop him like that. No, Jungkook can see now that you two are a match made in heaven. You have a bite, never afraid to speak your mind when needed. This translates to a hunger you shamelessly share with Jungkook, both sexual and romantically intimate. He almost wishes he could’ve seen you act like a bitch to Taehyung last night, he can only imagine how sexy you looked telling him off.
He has the technology to blow up your picture, the one that’s currently having him close his laptop and shove it to the side. He spreads his legs further across his glass desk, trying to find comfort between his tight pants as he absorbs every bit of your skin.
It’s nothing too risque, but it’s nothing short of sensual. The room is dark, but it’s very clearly a picture of your hand between your thighs. Again, you’re between your wall and bed, squished between your office chair with your legs spread as far as they can go. Your skin is so soft looking, plush as you press two fingers between your damp panties. Adorable.
[5:12] Jungkook: you know why i never replied last night? Because i was too busy jacking off to your dirty words doll. U really need your mouth washed
[5:12] You: wanna wash it with something else🍆
[5:12] You: please kook, i need something. Hoseok will come home soon and i might rip his head off. Help prevent a murder
Jungkook chuckles, clutching his phone closer to his body. He loves how much you’re opening up to him. Last week feels like so long ago, how you were all flushed and wide-eyed at the proposition of sex. He thinks you two can have a lot of fun getting to know each other, both emotionally and physically.
[5:15] Jungkook: i was gonna wait until i sent this, but i think my doll needs it. Here’s what i was doing last night
[5:17] Jungkook: MP4.13
He… has a meeting in five minutes. A very important, very serious meeting. Jungkook jacked off enough last night, now it’s your turn. He hopes you like it. It’s not a very long video, barely a twenty-second clip of him fisting his cock. Taehyung was still home at the time, so he had to keep quiet. However, he couldn’t get the image of you out of his head that night, rubbing your thighs together in a cramped mattress as you try to erase the dirty thoughts of him. A murmur of your name, and the image of his precum dripping down his knuckles. You hope it’s enough.
[5:34] You: u make everything so much easier💜✨
[5:35] You: MP4.234
Two minutes. The video you send is even shorter than his, barely fifteen seconds. You’re in a much more comfortable position, horizontal on the bed. Your shirt is ridden up to the underside of your breasts, one hand clutching your bare breast so hard he can see your cotton plush skin bulging between your fingers. The other hand has your panties shifted to the side, three fingers in your sopping cunt.
“Mmh—fuck, f-uck Jungkook—” the words are mere breaths, puffs of air as you reach your orgasm.
His call connects. He nearly drops his phone on the glass.
“Jungkook!” Andreas from Germany wishes him brightly, “you look great, glowing even!”
Jungkook blushes, and mutters something about having to go to the bathroom before they start.
Taehyung makes himself scarce on Saturday. He packs a duffel bag for himself and takes the PlayStation, knowing it’ll be a long weekend at Jimin’s.
Jungkook is on livewire for the morning. He even express-delivers a pasta roller to his house, and he spends all morning testing out the perfect pasta dough. His black apron is covered in flour, and he can barely comprehend the tutorial that’s teaching him on his flatscreen.
He’s on autopilot. He hasn’t contacted you since he sent that selfie, and he doesn’t intend to. Jungkook understands why you made yourself scarce in the beginning of the week, preferring to raincheck and pin your relationship for a better time. Jungkook’s brain is overridden with you, swollen with thoughts of you. You would never be able to focus if you kept in contact like you did last night, especially if you can’t get away from Hoseok.
Absence surely makes the heart grow fonder.
Slapping his hands against his trousers, he surveys his handiwork. His pasta is appropriately floured and wrung, each handful of fresh dough wrapped in little nests. Off the stove is a bechamel sauce, a base ready to be cooked in whatever kind of pasta dish you want. He thinks the two of you would have fun making your own non-traditional pasta dishes.
The soft knocks on his front door interrupts his train of thought, and he knows it’s you.
You stand in front of the door, impossibly small in a large shirt and a plain pair of leggings. At the sight of Jungkook, a smile as warm and sweet as hot chocolate worms its way to your face, and you collapse into his arms.
He sighs gratefully, sinking into your small body. When he pulls away, he can’t help but frown at your apparent exhaustion. You must’ve come back from something tedious, because sweat dots your brow and your eyes are still puffy and dark. Your chest arches bonelessly into his, hoping to melt in his embrace.
“Hi,” you say.
“Hey,” he replies.
“It’s Saturday.”
“It is Saturday.”
You rub your nose between the fabric of his button down, “I should’ve been more specific when I wanted to raincheck on you,” you murmur into the white cotton.
“No, I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions,” Jungkook whispers, even though you’re the only two people on the floor, “I’ll make it better, yeah? I’m going to love you so good tonight, won’t have to lift a finger—”
You shake your head, looking at him calmly. “Jungkook, it’s been a long week. Hobi got the job, I spent all this morning moving his two-ton speaker set into his new apartment. I don’t want anything gentle. I want you to rail me into next week,” Jungkook chokes on his saliva when you reach to cup his dick through his pants, already sporting a chub, “fuck me breathless. I want—no, I need this.”
Anything for you, but Jungkook isn’t going to let your mouth runneth over that easily. He wants that too, obviously. But again, you’ve made him wait.
Bending slightly, Jungkook whispers darkly into your ear, “Who said you can decide the rules here, doll?” he’s been waiting all week to slip back into this persona, one that has you shivering delightfully under his touch. A small, secret smile tucks itself under your lips as you tilt your head down, but Jungkook catches it. It shows you’ve missed it too. He lets your sneaky smile slide for now, only because he’s missed you so much and you’ve had a long day.
“If I wanna fuck you rough, I’ll fuck you rough. If I want to edge you until you're sobbing on the corner of the kitchen table, I’ll do it,” Jungkook spits every declaration into your skin, biting at your shoulder so hard you cry deliciously.
He drags you over to the living room, and he could sing at how easily you follow directions. Both of you have been tied up this week, and some hard sex would definitely ease that frustration, “Knees,” Jungkook commands, and you waste no time sinking to the floor, hands atop your knees.
You look up through your lashes, eyes big and glassy. His poor girl is tired, and he finds it all the more attractive that you’re willing to push that aside to make eachother feel good.
“Pretty, pretty,” he chants, pulling down his pants and letting his dick spring free, “suck.”
You waste no time, and he watches as your eyes dilate over the expanse of his cock, half-hard and ready for your mouth. Your nails dig into your knees as you start with featherlight kisses, finally turning into sloppy smacks as you lick all over his dick.
Jungkook groans, weaving a hand into your hair to force his dick down your throat. You gag at the sudden intrusion, but it doesn’t stop you from taking it like a champ. Hard, deep thrusts that he’s sure you can feel all the way in your stomach. You gag at each thrust, but don’t let up as your hot tongue wraps him up and licks at the pre-cum.
“Fuuuuck, doll,” he rips you away, his now hard dick springing away. He’s a little shaky on his knees, but he plants his feet down as he grips his cock, slapping the tip of it across your cheek. It smears your face, glossing your flushed cheeks in a mixture of your saliva and pre-cum. “Are you trying to make me cum first? So sweet, you don’t even care if you cum tonight, hmm? You owe me, making you believe you had another man.”
This isn’t true, of course. The both of you know it was just miscommunication, but it doesn’t hurt to play it up for pleasure.
“N-no Kook, I’m yours,” you grapple at his pants, pulling them down so he can get them off completely.
“Right. You’re. Mine.” With every punctuated word is a light slap to your cheek, and you take it. His cock bounces right off of you, until you finally move your head to suckle at the engorged tip, “I’m keeping you forever, doll. Don’t you know that?”
Throughout this whole process, you don’t move, other than the minute clawing at your knees. You’re so good to him. Jungkook pulls away and ignores the ache in his member for now, taking off your clothes for himself. It’s like unwrapping a gift, revealing every bit of skin reserved for his viewing. “So sexy,” he remarks once he’s got you bare, pulling you onto the couch. He’s still in his button down shirt, his date night shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. However, he lets your hands inch under the stiff fabric, feeling for his taut muscle.
He guides your aching cunt to his cock, sinking you down. It’s a tight fit, and you both moan at the brush of contact. Despite not being prepped, you’re still slick, and it makes up for it. He doesn’t thrust up or anything, just guides his lips to yours with a threadbare brush of his finger.
“Kook, d-do you want me to move?” you mumble against his cherry-flavored lip balm.
“Good dolls don’t move until they’re told,” your eyes widen innocently at the statement, and you crumple against his mouth, at his next words, “cum like this.”
“Awh shit, please no,” you tear up, burying your head between the crook of his neck, “I can’t wait.”
“Thought you wanted me to fuck you into next week. You can’t do this one little favor for me?” he’s being so mean, and you hate him for it. Haven’t you earned it? “C’mon baby, I thought you wanted me?”
It’s silent, save for the soft Italian restaurant music playing from whatever tutorial he’s hooked up to his television. It’s terribly cliche, like you’re in the porno version of a European romance movie. He thinks nothing of it, not when your juices are dripping on his thighs, your skin soft and pliant in his grip. Jungkook drums his fingers against your spine, seemingly uncaring that you’re stuffed deep into your womb.
On the other hand, it’s the only thing you’re acutely aware of. His thick, warm cock is nestled between your folds, right where it should be. You clench once, twice, thankful that this isn’t some crazed wet dream. States of sleep and consciousness have blurred this week, you’re lucky that you made it all the way up to Jungkook’s apartment.
You can’t cum like this. You need to bait him. You moan, the sound slow and rumbly against your throat as you weave your fingers through his dark tresses. Moving the strands aside to kiss his cold metal earrings you murmur, “I love this, Kookoo. I’ve wanted you all week, I was going crazy. I kept playing last week in my head over and over. I even put in my little vibrator, hoping you’d pull up the app.”
Jungkook’s teeth clench, and his grip is borderline painful as it digs into your hips.
“I haven’t been able to cum all week, and I want to do it all over you,” you husk, playing with the roots of his hair.
You can feel yourself dripping, wetness lubricating you even further and probably staining his thighs and couch with your arousal. Every second that passes is killer, and the fluttering towards your pussy tighten further as Jungkook’s cock twitches in response. Your pussy continues its ministrations, butterfly-like flaps against his hot member that have you vibrating.
“Mm, oh, I’ll cum for you,” and surprisingly, you might be able to. All this dirty talking has gotten you riled up. Just a little bit more and—
Jungkook shoves you off his cock, forcing you to land on the couch.
“No!” you cry, wiping your face. Your cheeks are ruddied, and you’re annoyed. The coolness of the autumn air has you feeling chilly, and you want to scream at Jungkook for disrupting your orgasm. You feel empty.
You’re not annoyed for long however, as Jungkook flips you on your back and gives you what you’ve been craving.
“You glide right in, don’t ya doll,” the friction is deliciously blazing, his hands pushing you further into the large couch as he takes you from behind. Hot, fast smacks against your ass come from the way his balls bounce back and forth as he pistons his cock in and out. “F-fuck, you’re so good to me. So good, I love having you like this. All pretty and dripping, you really know how to make a guy wait, huh?”
“Mmph! N-no—hng, but I’m y-yours, Kook,” you garble out, and you’re practically eating the throw pillow you’re propped up on as he slams you further into the cushions, so hard you may fall off, “all yours, honey. N-no more waiting. I want you, want you so badly—ah fuck!”
“It’s worth it, you’re worth it,” he says over and over, his thrusts becoming sporadic and losing their rhythm once he feels you clenching uncontrollably. He presses his two fingers to your sloppy bud, swirling around the juices eagerly. “C-cum, baby doll. You deserve it, yeah? Cum on this cock, let go.”
You’re starting to see spots, black and white alike. Finally shying away from his cock you rest on your back, but Jungkook doesn’t stop his fingers from flying across your clit. One look at his face and you’re gone. Pretty brown eyes, overflowing with affection. The feeling is different, and it’s the acute pressure between your stomach and pussy that makes you notice what’s going on with your body. The pressure finally releases, your eyes fluttering shut as you rest your cheek on the cushions. You dissolve, a mess on the couch as white hot liquid ejects from your body, spraying Jungkook’s thighs and cushions.
“Y-you just,” your lover’s mouth is parted open like a baby kitten, uncaring as to how the dark liquid stains his couch fabric.
“Squirted?” you answer breathlessly, a melty smile on your lips, “y-yeah.”
It sets him off, a button left dormant until now. The thatches of hair that surround his cock are dripping with your mess, a cold reminder that he got you to this high. He doesn’t hesitate to slip his cock back into you, and you gasp at the overstimulation. You try not to focus on how your body is a bundle of lit nerves, only to help Jungkook reach his completion.
“S-so perfect,” he warbles, pressing kisses to your jaw, chin, lips. Each thrust is deep, thick and heady with emotion. “Mm, I wanna cream this pussy sooo badly—mm, all mine, all wet and warm and so so sweet—”
He cries out your name, biting into your shoulder as your walls fill further with his hot cream. Your thighs are shaking from sensory overload, and Jungkook has to hold you down and soothe you into a state of reality to cling on.
Satiated, he nuzzles into your chest, feeling absolutely featherlight.
“T-thank you,” you say gratefully, when at least three out of your five senses return to your body. Your hands dip down to clutch his cheek, pinching lightly at the warm skin.
“Don’t thank me yet,” Jungkook exhales into your breasts, “d-didn’t even feed you my cum yet.”
You scoff, pinching his cheek again. You’re aware of his softening cock between your folds, ready to seep the efforts of today’s coupling, but your stomach says otherwise. You crane your neck to make note of the kitchen island, staring curiously at the metal pasta roller and the little nests of carby goodness that decorate the cutting board.
“Feed me pasta first, please. You have all night to feed me dessert.”
Jungkook giggles into your stomach, he doesn’t mind feeding you in that order.
bonus.
“So.”
“So?” you have cream sauce on your lips, happily slurping on an angel hair.
“You haven’t told me you liked me back yet,” Jungkook rests his palm in the swell of his cheek, content with watching you eat from where he’s standing on the counter. He leans his upper body across the marble table, muscles rippling against his white shirt.
“Oh, I did!” you’re affronted, swinging your legs on the high chair, “I totally did last week!”
“Yeah, well. Can you say it while I’m not inside you?”
“Okay,” you blink, quirking him with a simple smile, “I like you.”
“That was anticlimactic,” Jungkook jokes at the brevity of your confession, yet his heart betrays the charm he finds in the three words.
You scoff, jabbing your fork in the little next of springy noodles. “What do you want to hear? I’ve wanted you since I’ve moved in? I think you’re really handsome when you pace the hallway doing work on your phone? I like the way you cook?”
“Keep going,” Jungkook sing songs, walking over to hug you from behind.
The stool swings back and forth as he rocks the two of you, softly and slowly so you don’t throw up your dinner. He noses into your neck, inhaling your scent and committing it to your memory.
“Mm, dessert first,” you insist, twirling around the stool so you can wrap your legs around his waist. “And then I can tell you exactly how much I like you,” your fingers play with the buttons of his shirt, walking the pads of your fingers across his chest.
Jungkook grins, hands reaching to cup your bottom and bring you to his bedroom. Of course, he’s always willing to satisfy your insatiable appetite.
#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#btsguild#btswritingcafe#btsghostie#kwritersworldnet#jungkook fic#bts smut#bts fic
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We frequently get asked what our members favorite fics are, so for today’s rec list, we asked each member of BLP to choose FIVE favorite fics for this list - no repeats allowed. Please keep in mind that this is not a complete list of our favorites - there are so many amazing BL fics out there that we all have a lot more than this! Still, we hope you enjoy. Happy reading!
1) Take Off Your Business Suit | Explicit | 3082 words
“Yes, let me get another chair.” Louis said, leaning up off of the desk. He stood up but before he could leave the office to get another chair, Harry was grabbing his hand.
The words that came out of Harry’s mouth made Louis’ knees weak and heart beat quicken. “Just sit on my lap.” Harry said. Whatever he said afterwards didn’t make it into Louis’ ears as he was moving quickly over to Harry and placing himself on Harry’s lap.
Louis would take anything Harry wanted to give him; hand touching, lap sitting, all of it. Louis hadn't realized he was holding his breath until it came out in a quiet sigh. “Okay so th-this one will be slightly different right?” He asked as he pointed at the sheet of paper in front of him.
2) Quietly Our Hearts Beat | Explicit | 7539 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
Louis and Harry in the universe of ‘A Quiet Place’.
3) A Love Reaction | Explicit | 9968 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
Louis’s staring up at him, head tilted slightly back, and his blue eyes are glassy, locked with Harry’s in an unblinking and gentle gaze. He looks ready to do whatever Harry says, to please him whatever way.
4) To Love Without Reason | Explicit | 8854 words
“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind.
Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic.
“I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.”
Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.
5) No Good Unless It’s Real | Explicit | 17021 words
Louis is a very busy farmer who’s just trying to make it to his next nap and Harry’s the new hot vet that’s determined to infiltrate every area of his life.
6) A Springtime’s Wilt, An Autumn’s Bloom | Explicit | 20593 words
Harry is Louis' personal chauffeur, and although he hides his feelings for his boss behind a wall of rigid professionalism, Louis still manages to squeeze through the cracks.
7) Ready To Fall | Explicit | 21220 words
“Ninety and rising,” Nick says triumphantly, as though making Harry’s heartbeat pick up by thrusting an obscenely attractive person in front of his face is any kind of success. “Louis Tomlinson has just walked into our control room and suddenly our dear Harry Styles has lost all ability to speak. Could this be some kind of strange coincidence?”
“I hate you,” Harry hisses, forcing his eyes back into Nick’s direction, uncaring that the mic must have picked it up. “I thought we agreed that you were going to play fair.”
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nick denies, except he’s holding up a picture of Louis’ face now, sharp cheekbones prominent, soft lashes nearly sweeping against his cheeks as he looks down, and his fucking mouth –
“A hundred and two!” Nick crows, all but clapping his hands together in glee. “The highest it’s ever been!”
“To be fair, I did bend over the desk on purpose,” Louis’ voice comes crackling in the headphones. Harry practically breaks his neck whipping his head around at the sound of it, gaping at him through the glass panel. “You can’t really blame him for getting a little excited about that, can you?”
8) Written In The Stars (That’s You And Me) | Explicit | 22632 words
Louis pushes himself up on one elbow and stretches enough to just barely trace his fingertips over Harry’s jawline. Harry’s eyes drop to track his movements as he does it again. “D’you feel that?” he whispers.
To him, it feels like all of the universe’s magic lives just beneath his skin when he touches Harry with intent. It feels like something special. Louis watches Harry’s lips part and wants to touch that too. He almost does, but then Harry shakes his head. “Feel what?”
9) Middle Ground | Explicit | 23561 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
Harry moves to a new town for work where he meets the enigma that is Louis Tomlinson.
10) England Has My Bones | Explicit | 24087 words
The next time Harry thinks about calling, it’s 4.14 in the morning on a Parisian hotel balcony.
11) Like A Siren In The Night | Explicit | 24868 words
“There is an infestation in my home,” Louis hisses, righting himself quickly and pushing his way past Harry, heading directly for the kitchen. He’s rather haphazardly dressed himself, a coat thrown on over a loose flannel shirt and black pants, slippers on his feet.
Harry resists the urge to sigh, closing the door and trailing behind him slowly. “What kind of infestation?”
For all he knows, Louis is going to claim that there’s a ghost infestation. Harry has no idea what the end game is here – all he knows is that Louis has found at least three complaints a week to bring up since he’s been living on Harry’s property, and he’s been living here for six months.
It’s way too many fucking complaints, is what Harry is saying. Especially when most of them are ridiculous to start with.
12) Hold Onto This Heaven (Of Yours) | Explicit | 25213 words
An ode to being too young, too sad, and too in love.
13) The Devil’s In The Details | Explicit | 25372 words
He squeals when Harry smacks his bum as he bends over to pick up his bag, swinging it over his shoulder. Harry smiles smugly at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “When are you going to start calling me professor?” He asks.
“When you actually are one,” Louis says with his hand on the doorknob. He cocks his head to the side in curiosity. “Isn’t that how words work? You did study English, right?”
Louis’ quick to slip out the door before Harry can smack him again, his laugh echoing through the hallways as he makes his way to his next class with flushed cheeks and a bright smile.
14) A Trail Of Honey Through It All | Explicit | 27086 words
The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.
15) You Fit In My Poems (Like A Perfect Rhyme) | Explicit | 27598 words
The one where Harry works in an old bookshop and Louis is the pretty stranger that ends up stranded there in the middle of a storm.
16) Where The Lights Are Beautiful | Mature | 31170 words | Sequel
The accidental bonding A/B/O fic.
17) Once Upon A Dream | Explicit | 33319 words | Sequel
Louis is psychic and gets caught in the middle of a murder investigation led by FBI Special Agent Harry Styles.
18) Stuck On You | Explicit | 33983 words
Louis’ life revolves around his stickers. Harry’s life revolves around his job. The universe has decided their worlds should revolve around each other.
19) Coeur De Pirate | Explicit | 34207 words
He tilts his chin up as the Captain strides across the deck, his footfalls falling loudly against the planks. The crew watches them from afar.
Stepping into his space, the Captain wraps an arm around Louis’ waist and pulls him in. He lowers his head to breathe his words against Louis’ cheeks. “I won,” he whispers, “I’ve come to claim my prize.”
20) What This World Is About | Explicit | 34472 words
An eighties American high school AU; there are first times, football games, and feelings.
Alternatively titled: the beginning.
21) Close To Nowhere | Explicit | 34589 words
Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.
22) Before We Knew | Explicit | 39830 words
Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed onto his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.
23) The Space Between | Explicit | 39917 words
Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.
Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.
24) The Sweetest Incantation | Explicit | 40580 words
Harry is a witch who's still working on developing his powers and Louis is a werecat who falls into his life and turns it upside down.
25) Worth Dying For | Explicit | 44906 words
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Louis says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. In the center of the table, a set of three glossy photos stares up at him, mocking him.
“A security detail is non-negotiable, Louis, you know this,” his mum reminds him, tapping the middle photo with two fingers.
Louis doesn’t look back down at the pictures, gesturing towards them wildly, over-dramatically. “This is not a security detail!” he protests. “This is a lanky college student. In what world do you hire someone like this kid to protect me?”
26) Tastes Like Summer, Smiles Like May | Explicit | 47519 words
A cold prince, an alpha with nothing left to lose and a kingdom with a secret.
27) Love’s Truest Language | Explicit | 48195 words
The first part was meant as a joke. He didn't really expect Harry to buy anything. It was just Louis’ way of softening the ‘get the fuck out’ blow.
“Where's your order forms, then?”
“I don't want your flowers.” Louis chided before directing all of his attention to the arrangement in front of him.
Harry laughed under his breath as he stood to his full height, “Who said anything about them being for you, love?”
28) Through The Wheatfields And The Coastlines | Explicit | 52855 words
The one where Louis needs inspiration, and a certain cowboy and his lamb are the perfect distraction.
29) Latibule | Mature | 54322 words
A Spirited Away AU of sorts where Louis just wants to heal and be left alone, only for all his plans to be destroyed by the hands of an infuriating British God.
30) Warming Up To You | Explicit | 56227 words
Prompt 111: Louis and Harry are strangers that somehow got stranded during a blizzard. They find themselves in an abandoned cabin and have to cuddle for warmth. Cuddling leads to much more.
31) Feeling Borrowed, Always Blue | Explicit | 68214 words
Louis has been dreaming of his wedding since he was young - he just never expected it to happen like this.
32) Curly Bun Man | Not Rated | 68597 words
I just paid for these Doritos but they're stuck in the vending machine and I know you've been waiting but I am not going to let you buy something until you help me. AU.
33) Waiting On You | Explicit | 76584 words | Sequel
“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.
Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.
“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.
Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.
34) Through Struggles, To The Stars | Explicit | 80582 words
Louis is a Starfleet captain trying to find his place in the universe. Harry is a prince just trying to do what's right.
35) I Want You So Much (But I Hate Your Guts) | Mature | 83648 words
AU in which Louis gets accepted to play for the Manchester University Alpha-Beta Football Team. The only problem: Louis is actually an Omega. He is determined to make it big in the football world, though, and he can't do that bound to an Omega team. With the help of a faked doctor's certificate and some pretty strong suppressants he is ready to fight for his dream.
That Harry Styles (Alpha, second year and youngest football captain of the A-B team in ages) doesn't seem to like him complicates matters, though.
36) Where You Lay | Explicit | 86038 words
When Louis's upcoming heat threatens his success at his new dream job, he asks the best (and only) person he can think of to help him through it: his best mates' best mate, Harry Styles. Harry reluctantly accepts, and together the two navigate a strange friends with benefits relationship that quickly turns complicated.
37) And Down The Long And Silent Street | Mature | 86090 words
Wherein Louis and Harry are on the opposite ends of the social ladder, but their paths still cross on the filthy streets Louis calls his home. The odds are staked against them from the beginning, and even more when Louis' past finally catches up with him.
38) Swim In The Smoke | Explicit | 101778 words
“What about this, Captain?” Liam asks, nudging the boy kneeling between their feet with the toe of his boot. The boy hisses and swipes at him, slurring out something unintelligible around the makeshift gag Niall had to stuff in his mouth. He misses by a mile and tries again, just as ineffectively.
Harry looks down at him, at the way the sun streams over his face and shoulders, at the way the gag stretches his mouth, lips pink and chapped. He’s lithe and pretty, smudged all over with dirt. They had found him tied up below deck, mostly unconscious, next to a barrel full of gold. He’s clearly a prisoner, but there’s something familiar about him, something that niggles at Harry’s brain. Something he can’t quite put his finger on.
“Put him in my cabin,” Harry decides, turning back to deal with the rest of the loot. The boys screams out jumbled curse words at Harry’s back, muffled by the gag, and Harry can’t understand any of it.
39) The Galaxy’s Edge | Explicit | 113921 words
Things never quite go as they are planned during a simple rescue job.
40) Tainted Saints And Velvet Vices | Explicit | 126057 words | Sequel (WIP)
A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they're forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
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idfc
An ongoing fic in which you don't realize you have both Fushiguros at your feet.
↳ Toji Fushiguro/Reader
Part 5/?
Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 6
content warning. age gap, afab reader, angst if you squint, mild smut, sugar daddy toji, mild exhibitionism, mild public sex, oral(f receiving)
This is part five of a several part story revolving around smut. **Minors DNI**
1.5k words
He left you dumbfounded when he parted not a second later, waving as he walked down the hall.
"Let's do this again soon."
Everything was starting to go back to normal. The last couple days were spent catching up with friends, having the four of you hanging out together again felt natural.
You'd be lying if you said you hadn't been avoiding hanging out with Megumi alone, though. Everything he did was more obvious now, the lingering stares, the way his eyes darted down to your lips whenever you spoke to him directly, the subtle brushes of his arm and hand against your own while walking. Even if someone else was talking, he would be looking at you.
You didn't know how you were so blind before. Anyone with eyes and common sense could see he was absolutely head over heels.
My sister is visiting this weekend, are the words that finally got you to accept one of his onslaught of offers to hang out, even if it was just a dinner at 'some restaurant'. It was true, you'd mostly done it to see Tsumiki again, but you did feel bad with how you were neglecting him.
The entire morning of you felt nauseous. You weren't nervous about being around him, though. You were more concerned with the fact you had to sit at a table and act chummy with someone that had fucked you senseless, and didn't hear anything from after the fact.
Strong vibrations from your phone rattled against the granite kitchen island, urging you to quickly slide some low black heels on and run out the door. Once downstairs, you whistled at the black Lexus LC 500 sitting in front of your building.
Getting inside the car, you were mesmerized by the beautiful leather, all the buttons, and screen built into the dash. Dad let me borrow his work car, he told you when you asked, confirming your suspicion that he didn't drive his own car over deliberately.
When you were told it was just dinner at some restaurant, you didn't expect to pull up to a beautiful building with a valet. You suddenly felt incredibly under dressed in your black milkmaid dress. It had a window just below the bust, the short a-line making you feel trashy compared to every other woman walking in. It made sense why Megumi was in a dress shirt now.
You stood, dumbfounded and starry eyed as your friend briefly spoke to the gentleman behind the tall marble podium, too absorbed in taking in the high ceilings and rich red and gold accents to realize you'd been taken by the hand to walk further in.
"Oh!" Your gaze snapped over to the slightly secluded booth table, seeing a sparkly eyed Tsumiki shouting over for you. She seemed like she'd already had a few drinks.
The eye contact she was making was short lived when your own trailed slightly to the left, your mouth going dry. Toji sat beside her, dress shirt tight against his thick crossed arms, the top couple buttons on his shirt undone to expose his sharp collarbone. He had his sleeves rolled up, but only halfway up his forearms. His expression was unchanging, but the way he eyed you up and down let you know he wasn't made aware you would be part of the dinner.
Much to your displeasure, Megumi had sat you down beside him, directly across from Toji.
"Goodness, look at you. You've both grown so much!" Tsumiki prattled on, you occasionally joined in on the conversation.
Despite her light and airy exterior, your attention was too caught up in how silent the taller man was nearly the entire night, only ever briefly speaking up when address or ordering food. Every time you tried to sneak a glance, your gazes met, you were always the first to look away. At some point you were convinced it wasn't coincidence, and he'd just been staring at you the entire time.
Once dinner and dessert was cleared from the table, Megumi sighed and pushed his chair back.
"I'll get the car and bring you home–"
"Actually, you can drive Tsumiki." Toji finally said something without prompting, causing all eyes to focus on him.
"She needs to get up early to catch her flight. Since I need to pay, you can drive her to the hotel. I'll drive your friend home."
There was a lingering silence, before Megumi sighed, begrudgingly agreeing.
You and Tsumiki said your formalities, although you sat uncomfortably in your chair once you were left in silence in the presence of him. It was just the two of you, and now that you didn't have any watchful eyes, you silently confirmed that he had been staring at you all night.
"Nice to see you... again..." You chewed the inside of your cheek after speaking, eyes looking down where you fiddled with the hem of your short dress' skirt.
"Yeah."
Silence. If you could pass away right now, you would. This was excruciating. Why did you come to this stupid dinner? Why would you put yourself in this situation?
"Ever been fucked in a five star restaurant bathroom?"
Choking on your spit, you looked up wide eyed to see he had the same flat line expression, brow only slightly arched. He was a hard man to read, but any idiot could tell he was toying with you.
"Obviously not, no–"
He interrupted you by standing, reaching into his well fitted black trousers and placing a black credit card on the table. His green eyes could cut steel, the dangerous way he looked down at you as he walked past giving you goosebumps.
"Bathroom. Two minutes."
With how low his tone was, and how he looked at you, you knew better than to go against what you were told– no, ordered. Keeping a watchful eye on your phone clock, you hadn't even noticed the waiter walk up to take the card and leave again.
When you got to the bathroom door, you tried desperately hard to ignore the way the restroom attendant standing outside glanced you up and down, then rolled his eyes. Toji, what the fuck did you say to this guy? Said man motioned for you to walk inside, the first thing you noticed upon entering was the crystal chandelier and gold plated everything.
Toji had his back facing you, rolling the sleeves of his dark navy dress shirt up just past his elbows when you cleared your throat to announce your presence. Watching the turn of his head and slow drag of his eyes to you, then over to the clock beside the door you'd just entered, then back to you. His lips twitched.
"Right on time."
Unsure why, but you were disappointed he didn't praise you for being so timely. You blamed it on the fact you knew you'd be punished had you been even a second late.
"Now, princess," His voice was laced with venom, a nefarious twinge to how he addressed you. "What business did you have marching in here dressed like that unannounced?"
You didn't answer his question. You weren't sure if he even wanted you to. Despite the fact, you kept eye contact, looking like a lamb cornered by a starving wolf.
"Sit." He commanded, hand resting on the marble countertop beside a very expensive looking sink. His tone didn't make you nearly as nervous as the corridor of mirrors, nearly every wall covered with one.
Heels clacked against the marble floors, slowly, as you made your way over. You had to hike a leg up onto the counter to get on top, yelping when a sharp smack stung your newly exposed bottom. Looking back back with narrowed eyes, you were met with an intense, impatient glare.
"Did I tell you to take your sweet fuckin' time?"
You quickly scurried up, your back pressed against a mirror as he leaned into you, caging you between his arms.
"Legs up."
It was a struggle to move with how closely Toji was leaning into you, but you managed to bring your knees up to your chest, panties now completely exposed. You didn't want to address how it made your pussy quiver. He seemed to take a moment, drinking in how scantily clad you were.
"Those don't cover a goddamn thing, princess. We're you planning for something?"
He leaned back, hands leaving the counter.
"Take them off." Toji nodded his head, eyes looking down at your underwear as he crossed his arms. "Pull your dress up while you're at it."
You did as you were told, removing the lacy black thong, throwing it in his direction as some semblance of rebellion. His smirk fell, letting you know immediately a mistake was made. Continuing, you grabbed the hem of your skirt, bringing it up to your mouth and biting down on it, holding it up with your mouth. What a spectacle you must've been, all propped up and ready for him to devour you.
Toji crouched down, picking up the panties you'd thrown at him and stuffed them into his pocket before he stepped over, dipping his head between the apex of your thighs.
"If you feel like being a brat," He gave your bare cunt a slap, making you flinch. "Then I'll treat you like one."
You leaned your head back against the mirror, eyes closing when you felt him gently blow over your already throbbing aroused pussy.
"Aren't people going to walk in?" Your protest was muffled from the hem of your dress stuffed in your mouth. You hoped you could talk some sense into Toji, as if anyone ever could.
"I paid the attendant a hundred bucks to stand outside and stop people from coming in," Toji stroked up your folds with his index finger, bringing his other hand up and parting you with his thumbs to get a good look at the way you twitched for him. His lazy smirk grew, breath ghosting over your heat. He spoke, the words making you shiver more than his tongue now licking a long stripe up your pussy.
"We've got fifteen minutes. I'll only need seven."
#toji fushiguro#toji smut#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x y/n#toji fushiguro smut#reader insert#jjk toji#toji jjk#jjk smut#toji thirst#daddy toji#minors do not interact#anime x reader#anime smut
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Sweet | Jung Jaehyun
❤︎ Jaehyun x female!reader
❤︎ Fluff? Smut, Smut, Smut, Smut, Tiny bit of angst, College AU, Established relationship
❤︎ 2/4 for LOVE MONTH SERIES: Boys Don’t Cry
One is a big number | You and your words | Sweet |
He loves me, he loves me not |
Summary: Jaehyun has always been in love with you but he thinks so highly of you that he never tried pursuing his feelings for you. All throughout your college years, Jaehyun endured every heartbreak secretly whenever you have a new boyfriend and can only love you secretly in his own ways. Wild. College years was wild and its all because of Jaehyun. After college, you and Jaehyun parted ways but life will reunite you again in the most shocking way. Jaehyun’s wedding.
Word count: 13,707k
Warnings: Sex, sex, sex, and loads of sex, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, making of sex tape (with consent), making of amateur porn? (with consent), cam boys and cam girl?? idk what to call that but they fuck live, mentions of alcohol, period fingering, mentions of tampon, dry humping, oral sex female receiving, mentions of blowjob, slight blowjob scene, mentions of other idols, swearing, college students who just wanna have fun haha, kissing and touching, fingering, and slight nipple play, mentions of having sex with Johnny. AH SLIGHT BREAK UP SEX!
A/N: PURE FICTION. PURE FICTION. PURE FICTION. okay, I know I said that this will be out on Jaehyun’s birthday but meh whatever I’m posting it and will post something else for hearts day. hehe. I hope you guys love this even though im just experimenting and trying to write longer fics, and seriously I wanted to write back to back smut with different feels so I guess im crossing that out of my bucket list. Also this is proof read once only so sorry. You may not be happy with the ending but I’m sure as hell happy with it so sorry.
Humans are prone to fall in love with the wrong people and the only thing you can do about it is to forgive yourself and move on. No matter how much history you had, no matter how many special moments or intimate ones you shared… if you know that he or she is not the right person for you then, you know.
Like this moment right now. For exactly ten minutes, you will realize why you and a certain someone never worked out.
“Hey, boss you have a 10 am meeting. Planning for everything” Your assistant says as you double-check your schedule to see the name of the client she’s talking about. “That’s the bride though, 0% progress for the wedding” she added.
“Yikes” you murmur and ready your stuff, “let’s fix that and give her a beautiful wedding. I need you to take down everything she says while I talk to her” you straighten your clothes and fix yourself before you face the client.
The moment you enter the room, the bride greets you with a big smile like she’s saying ‘thank you for saving me and my wedding’ even though you literally haven't done anything yet. Oh, you love seeing those hopeful eyes in every bride. “I’m just waiting for my fiancé, he’s the one who recommends coming here and I have a great feeling that I will have a beautiful wedding because of you”
“And my team,” you added and finished her sentence, “I want to introduce you to my assistant, she will be taking care of every request you say during our discussion later”
“And I want to introduce you to my fiancé, Jaehyun,” she said with a big smile and walked towards his fiancé.
And just like that your ordinary day at the office became extraordinary. Because nothing is normal about Jung Jaehyun, nothing is normal about those dimpled smile that automatically makes your heart skip a beat.
“Baby, this is the wedding organizer” her smile has no hint of mock, she’s not even proud that she has a very handsome fiancé and obviously she doesn’t know who you are. She’s just happy that she’s marrying Jaehyun. That’s all. And in those eyes, you see that Jaehyun is in the right hands.
“Mhmm. Me, Johnny, and Ms. Y/n right here are dorm mates. So you’re talking to the best wedding organizer,” you snorted at what Jaehyun said.
“Thank you for that introduction Jung, now let’s talk about your wedding”
And so, you worked your magic to them the whole morning. Explaining things, showing stuff, asking them what they want. From the wedding reception, wedding dress appointments, and picking of cakes… she has no idea of what she wants. Good thing you do know what you’re doing and you planned everything smoothly after a few hours. And for hours and hours, you watched them smile at each other, lowkey flirted in front of you but you didn’t feel any jealousy, hurt, or regret.
When the exhausting meeting was finally done and finally you’re alone at your office, a soft knock brought you back to reality and a familiar voice was behind it. “Can I come in?” Jaehyun asks.
“Of course, it’s open” you watch him enter your office like he’s some kind of a ghost and made the room cold in an instant.
“I just want to say thank you for helping us out- thank goodness the world is small… Literally, the wedding will be a mess”
“Just doing my job Jae,” you smiled sweetly to him, “your fiancé is lovely-“
“I did love you Y/n. And I’m sorry for hurting you like that, I told you, you deserve better. I’m glad we both found our happiness” he flashed that dimpled smile again and thanked you one last time.
The little reunion ended with small smiles, nods here and there, and in just a few seconds Jaehyun is out from your office and quickly replaced by your assistant to give you your afternoon coffee. Awkward and curious, she placed the coffee in front of you. Obviously, she wanted to know your past with the groom. And when she finally dropped the question, you remembered everything, moments crashing and drowning you right this instance.
Eight years ago
“Are you even trying, you’re no fun!”
Your best friend shouts at you from the other side of the table, waiting for you to throw the ball, waiting for you to miss. It was just beer pong but you don’t know why the game was so fucking frustrating and no matter how hard you concentrate you can’t score. Maybe it’s because you’re all alone and you’re competing against your best friend and her boyfriend. Fuck that you thought, you don’t need a man.
“Fuck” you murmur and miss again. You watch your best friend’s boyfriend score another one and of course, you have to drink again. But just when you’re about to get the ball from drink, a stranger’s hand was quick to get the cup, remove the ball and drink the alcohol.
“Mind if I join and help you win?” He flashed you a dimpled smile that immediately made you smile back at him. You take back what you said earlier, maybe you do need someone.
“Come on! Let him in, maybe he’s a better competition” your best friend shouts once again. Oh, you’re very happy that you’re not going to the same college.
As you welcome the handsome stranger and gave him the honor of throwing the ball, you warned him first that your opponents can be very annoying but he doesn't seem to care and just let out a small laugh. Cocky you thought, but confidence looks sexy on him.
And finally. Fucking finally, your best friend had a taste of her own medicine.
“I’m Jaehyun by the way,” he was lowkey flirting with you and you’re not stupid to not notice. “Here, I’ll teach you how to throw” he put the ball in your palm and stood behind you, hands on your waist to keep you steady, arms raised together, and you swear his lips were so near at your nape that you got shivers whenever he talks. “let the ball bounce near a cup and it will land on one” he added. But how can you score if he’s making it hard for you? You did it anyways, threw the ball near a cup and he was right. It landed on the cup you wish to aim and finally, you’re starting to have fun.
The game went on and you and Jaehyun flirted, talked, and exchange deep glances the entire game but winning it at the same time. His one hand is always around your waist even if it's not necessary whenever he’s the one throwing the ball, and whenever the other team scores, he’s the one drinking the alcoholic beverage for you.
At the end of the game, you and Jaehyun won the golden prize which is very awkward when he showed it to you.
“All that frustration and competition for a condom?” you can’t believe that the prize is a single condom.
“We don’t have to use it, it can just be our trophy you know” he let out a small laugh and put the condom in his pocket, and changed the subject.
As the night went deeper, you and Jaehyun had your own little world in that corner at the kitchen with a beer in your hand while you talk about your interest from music to movies. It was pretty crowded but no one seems to care especially Jaehyun because he loves how incredibly close he is to you right now. Until a drunk person bumped Jaehyun and he accidentally spilled his beer on your blouse. Seems like the universe is making a way for you two to eventually hook up and use the condom.
“Shit-shit!” Jaehyun was panicking at the moment and he doesn’t know what to do other than remove his hoodie and cover you with it before anyone sees your see-through blouse and took you somewhere less crowded to help you clean up the mess he put you through.
In a stranger's room upstairs, he locked the door to let you change while he looks for something to dry your clothes with. Luckily, he saw a hairdryer and quickly plugged it in beside the bed and started drying your shirt.
You were conscious for some time, clinging to a stranger's blanket with nothing but your pants underneath it. You watch Jaehyun dry your bra, checking it from time to time if it's ready to go. And when it's finally dry, he hands it to you with an awkward smile but still managed to make your heart beat fast. “I’m really sorry,” he started, a quickly avoided his gaze from you again as you turn your back from him, put down the blanket, and wear your bra like there's no one with you.
“It was an accident, don’t beat yourself up,” you said, there’s no way he’s going to let this go you’re sure of it, so with all your bravery, you came closer to him while he's busy drying your blouse and kissed him on the cheek. “You've been saving me the whole night. You saved me from boredom and from losing and now, you're drying my clothes. So sweet of you,” you added and looked at him sweetly, resting your forehead on his and making the moment even more intense by putting down the blanket in front of him. Allowing him to see you with only wearing your bra and pants, inviting him to make this moment unforgettable for the two of you.
Of course, he's not stupid and did exactly what you had in mind. In one swift moved his lips are on your lips, hands on your shoulders to put your bra straps down, and you unclasped your bra and threw it on the floor before you started to kiss him more intensely.
Jaehyun kissed you exactly how you wanted to be kissed, with want and with lust. His breath and the sound of wet kisses sounded perfect as it surrounds the room. You felt him bite your neck then feel him smile against your skin when his intentions of turning you on even more is working.
Kisses became deeper, playful, and wet when he started to go down to your chest and started kissing the valley between your boobs. His big hands knead your right boob, while his left hand is placed on your waist. Oh when his tongue brushed on your nipple for the first time, you rolled your head back and arched your back as if you wanted him to do more and play more with your boobs.
And just like that the cold night became warm and you feel it getting warmer and warmer by every second and it’s all because of Jaehyun.
He flashed a dimpled smile at you when he saw that you're more than liking what he's doing to you and stopped to open the lampshade. The room was immediately softly illuminated which you thought is romantic even though everything that’s happening right now is totally unplanned.
"Your boobs have spit all over, wait let me get that for you" you were just about to tell him that it's fine but he was quick to remove his shirt and reveal his godlike body right before your eyes. “If you just want to kiss and touch the whole night, I’m fine with that but I am very horny right now that I got you covered with spit,” he said while wiping his spit from your boobs and chest using his shirt.
If you’re perfectly honest, you’re nervous about what can happen in the next few minutes. But there’s no way in hell that you’re going to let this pass, it’s not every day a handsome man is eager to fuck you. You just have to suck it up, not tell him that you’re a virgin, perform and look like you know what you’re doing. "No, it's fine I'm horny too" and you proved it by kissing him again, cupping his face with both of your hands, and with all your strength you roll on top of him. "Wait here," you said as you push him back on the mattress when he tried to get a hold of you.
You went down from the bed to remove your pants and underwear, he did the same as quickly as he can and you think he's cute for being excited to fuck. You crawled in between his legs, sat nicely on top of him but the impatient guy sat up and met your lips again. One hand supporting his weight, one hand on your waist. "You're so fucking beautiful I'm having a hard time to breath for the last few minutes" he whispers so sexily while kissing your jaw, leaving his mark to remind you the next day about tonight.
For a minute, you felt shy because you've never been naked with someone in bed. But the way Jaehyun kisses you makes you trust him, the way he touches your body with care make you want him more. And again, those fucking lips just made you roll your hips against his hardening cock and it made you both moaned so good that he asked you to do it again. And so you did.
Letting his cock slide in between your folds is a new feeling for you. Not even grinding on your vibrator will give you such an amazing feeling. Grinding on Jaehyun's cock while his mouth plays with your boobs felt fucking good that your grip on his locks tightens but he doesn't care. But for someone untouched like you, you made sure you never forget the feeling whenever his tongue swirls while you roll your hips, how he bites your nipples whenever he feels you're slowing down, and the vibrations that share with you whenever he grunts a little too loud and you feel it all over your body.
Soon Jaehyun switched places with you, putting you underneath him to catch his breath and stop himself from cumming. He reached for your hand and hold it dearly, kissing your knuckles and the back of your hand. “Forgive me if I become rough tonight, I can promise an aftercare don’t worry,” he says and gave you one last kiss before he pulls away and gets the condom from the pocket of his discarded pants. Putting the protection in front of you to assure you, thank goodness to that condom you thought.
As soon as he crawls back in between your legs again, his hand moved around your body like he’s telling you he owns you, smiling in between kisses whenever he accidentally tickles you. Hands slipping in between your thighs and fingers brushed automatically on your very wet slit. You jolt because of the new feeling but careful not to show Jaehyun that this is your first time being finger fucked. So you closed your eyes to avoid his gaze but Jaehyun gave your ass a tight squeeze and put his thumb on your wet slit, admiring how wet he made you already which made you open your eyes again and moan his name deliciously.
“I like the sound of that,” he says, kissing your neck and down Jaehyun goes, kissing your body until he reaches your pussy to give you few licks before he fucks you.
The way he licked your wet folds made your toes curl and your legs spread even wider. Pushing his head away, crushing his head with your legs then spreading it wide again, and begged him but you’re not sure what for.
“Jae- you eat pussy like a pro” or maybe you’re just telling that because it’s your first time being eaten out. That even the way he puts the right amount of force to stop your legs from closing whenever he flicks his tongue is perfect. And when he saw you relaxing and can handle the pleasure already, his hands cupped both of your boobs and pinched your nipples, making you moan his name loudly “Jae!-“ and arch your back as a sign that you’re almost there, and if he doesn’t stop soon you might cum now.
But of course, Jaehyun didn’t stop and made you cum using his tongue for the first time tonight. Your legs felt like jelly and you can even feel that your pussy is still sensitive. “Thought it’s going to be just a few licks?” you said weakly, wiping your pussy juices from his chin and planting a soft kiss on his lips as a thank you, but he doesn’t know that.
“Changed my mind, you taste good. I might even go for another round-“
And right before he goes down on you again, you stopped him and told him you’re still sensitive. Which thankfully he listened and kissed you instead of licking you. And when you’re finally good to go again, he holds you by your ankles, kiss your neck and touch your body for a few seconds before he finally lines his cock on your very wet slit. Sliding it up and down, teasing you and making you horny and even more aroused.
When he finally pushed his cock in your hole, Jaehyun thought his dick will slide in smoothly because, one, he thought you’re not a virgin anymore and two, you’re dripping on the sheets but still he’s having a hard time pushing in. Then he saw your face, contorting like you’re in pain rather than seeing you furrow your brows, part your lips, and make beautiful sounds.
For you, it fucking hurts and you would rather suck it up than tell him you’re still a virgin and ruin the mood. But the man on top of you is not stupid and surprisingly he pulled out slowly and came closer to your body once again to face you, “I’m about to be your first time, am I right? You’re so tight and I’ve never encountered a hole like that ever since my first fuck”
Busted you thought. You thought of any more ways to get out of this situation but he looks like he’s okay with it. “Are you mad?” you asked shyly and avoiding his stare.
“No” he admitted, “Actually I’m turned on. But I’ll go slow and sorry if I hurt you at first. Want to try again?”
You nod oh eagerly to his question and finally, you can breathe and enjoy the moment. He gave you a few kisses before he continues and went back to lining his cock, he made you wrap your arms around his neck and asked you to spread your legs even wider. And when he pushed in again, there’s that good stretch you’ve been hearing so much about. The feeling of Jaehyun’s cock go slowly inside you was incredibly good even though he’s not fucking you raw right now.
“The condom is thin-“ he grunts and moaned a few times, “you’re so tight. And fuck you look hot. Does it feel good now?” he whispers and started to roll his hips once which made you both moan and let out sharp gasps.
He fucks you slow and deep until the sting from the stretch is replaced by pleasure. You rake his body with your nails, holding him on his nape, and grab a fistful of hair whenever he tries to give you a powerful thrust which you loved so you asked for more.
He sat on his knees and pull away from your body then immediately gave you a hard thrust, watching your boobs bounce with lidded eyes, kneading them whenever he wants to. In a matter of few minutes, his thrust became animalistic that your head is dangling on the edge of the bed, moaning and gasping sharply but the man above you kept on fucking you hard, savoring the condom and trying not to cum so soon. So whenever he’s on edge, he pulls out immediately and spreads kisses around your body, sucking your boobs until your nipples are swollen, playing with your slit until you’re cumming for the third time tonight using his fingers.
“Not yet, I want more time with you,” he says while kissing your neck and reaching for your hand to intertwine it with his.
“Jaehyun, I can’t take it anymore. Please cum already” you begged with ragged breaths.
“Fine, fine. Since you asked nicely, but promise me to give me your number after we fuck”
“I will if you make me cum using your dick” he was amused by your answer and effortlessly flipped you on your stomach and asked you to put your ass in the air. He kissed your shoulders first, making you feel safe before the grand finale. Hands on your ass while he slowly thrust in again and fuck, he does make your knees weak.
“You were just a virgin a few minutes ago, but now you’re begging huh, okay” he says before he gave you a hard thrust that made you land flat on your stomach but he was quick to lift your hips again and give you another hard thrust.
Thrust after thrust you feel the impact in your body and for sure your body will be sore the next day. You call his name over and over again but you’re not sure what you’re begging for because he is fucking you good. Hard but good. And when finally Jaehyun is on edge for the nth time tonight, he did not pull out and kept fucking you but this time he doubled his pace that you can only hear skin slapping and his beautiful moans.
“Fuck Jaehyun- I’m cumming again, don’t you dare fucking stop” you grip the sheets and arch your back more, taking every thrust Jaehyun gives you and shut your eyes close as you let go and cum for the fourth time tonight.
Thrust
Thrust
Thrust
He gave you three powerful thrusts before you both flop on the mattress and catch your breath together. Your bodies were warm and sweaty, the room smelled like sex but no one cares. You feel bad to the owner of this bed.
While you catch your breath and calm yourself down, Jaehyun busies himself with discarding the condom and looking for something to cover your exposed body before he makes a wrong decision like asking you for round two.
“Thanks” you said weakly when he covered you with the blanket.
“I hope you’re okay with me being your first” he says and lies beside you again, keeping you close to him.
“I’m more than okay with it” you kissed him on the lips like you’re keeping a souvenir, “I hate to ruin this moment that we shared but, we have to go back to the party” you watch him shook his head no and pretended to be asleep, “Mhmm. Come on, I’ll help you get dressed” you added.
To be perfectly honest Jaehyun wanted to stay with you for a few more minutes, he wanted to know more about you, he wanted to hold your hand just a little bit longer. “Stay with me” he asks of you, but you refused with a heavy heart. You exchanged cellphone numbers of course, but when you two got back to the party, hand in hand and back to flirting with each other, your friends are quick to get a hold of you. and the next thing you know you’re inside your friend’s car, on your way home and you couldn’t stop thinking about him.
On the next day, you woke up very sore and you couldn’t walk properly but the thought of what happened last night just makes you smile and all giggly. You waited for his text the whole day, checking your phone from time to time and hoping that whenever it beeps, Jaehyun’s name is on the screen but no.
You thought that waiting for him for a day is normal, maybe he got hungover and slept the whole day. But after a few days later, still you got no texts from him and that part is not normal anymore. You started to think that you’re just a one-time thing for him and you feel stupid for even thinking that Jaehyun can and eventually pursue you.
Everything that happened that night, should be forgotten and you should enjoy the remaining months of your summer before you finally move in to your college dorm. On top of that, you deleted his number and tried to forget the man who made you feel good in bed for the first time.
Now that you’re weeks away from officially being a college student, you decided to settle in your college dorm as early as now so you can have more time to know your dorm mates. Little did you know, that the world is incredibly small and you will end up being dorm mates with Jaehyun alongside his best friend Johnny who welcomed you with a big bear hug like you’ve known each other for years.
It’s not that you weren’t happy to see him when he opened the door for you, it’s just that... it was such an awkward moment because you’ve seen each other naked and... he didn’t call you back. Nonetheless, you pretended to know each other for the first time today, shake his hand and give him a hug. Which you didn’t want to end so soon.
“Hey, uhm… glad to see you settle in” he started and closed your door so Johnny would not hear whatever conversation you’re about to have.
“Yeah, thank you for welcoming me warmly. Johnny is sweet by the way” you said awkwardly while folding your clothes and putting them in your cabinet.
“Uh, about that. Uhm, can you uh-“
“Not tell him that something happened between us?” he nods slowly at what you said, “sure” you wanted to scoff so bad and throw a fit at him, but you didn’t want to ruin your move in day and just shrugged it off.
Starting that day, you tried your best not to be awkward with Jaehyun and really try your best to forget about the sex. The sex that felt good, the sex that can make your toes curl by just merely thinking about it. Although you had a hard time because whenever you touch yourself at night, you remember everything that happened between you two and you end up fantasizing about fucking Jaehyun again. But now that you’re living with him and you see him every day, it's not just about the sex now.
During the summer you were convinced that Jaehyun is a guy who had sex with you and left you hanging. But seeing him every day and knowing him even more by living together, the truth about Jaehyun slapped you so hard that you even liked him even more now. He is a warm person, whose heart is full of care and compassion, or maybe even more than that.
Eventually, you did forget about the sex and your little crush on Jaehyun. Thank goodness, you thought. You couldn’t have done it without a few hookups during your freshman year. And when everything is all nice and pleasant again between you and Jaehyun, you became good friends and started to look after each other.
You were like family in that small dorm during your starting years together. The two giant knows how to cook so a good meal is never a problem, you have study sessions whenever it’s needed and whenever someone is going through something, you were there for each other.
It was great and comforting because you do everything together. But not until Jaehyun realized that he’s not immune to your charms anymore and now he’s falling for you. Hard.
Over the years of living together, Jaehyun saw your true colors. Now he knows you’re more than just a hookup. You were a gem that he found in a stranger’s party and he was such a fool for not calling you back during the summer. It’s true what they say that regrets are always at the end. Now he can only admire you and love you in ways where he can’t ruin this amazing friendship that you have.
Jaehyun endured every heartbreak whenever he sees you with another man or hearing you moan from the other side of the room whenever you and your boyfriend have sex. And when that jerk broke your heart, his broke two times than yours because he can’t do anything to ease your pain, make you realize your true worth and help you move on.
“You don’t need that guy,” Jaehyun says as he pulls you for a hug while Johnny massages your toes. The two giants were a good support system, not to mention they really want to beat your ex’s butt but you told them ‘thanks but, no don’t do that’. And while you’re crying in Jaehyun’s arms, staining his hoodie with your tears, he promised to himself that he will never hurt you or make you cry.
Now that he’s frustrated and mad at himself because he can’t help you, he decided to help himself instead. He watched on the sides and used different girls to make him forget about you, which is hardly impossible by now because even the little things you do make him crazy. Like whenever you ask him to eat dinner with you when Johnny is out for work, or whenever you take care of him when he goes home batshit drunk and can’t even stand up straight.
For Jaehyun, his college years were all about yearning. Yearning for you, your attention, your touch, and your love. But even though you’re now single and have already moved on from your ex, he still can’t confess his feelings for you because he believes that you deserve someone better than him. Jaehyun knew he hurt you already, and he will not forgive himself if he does it again.
Senior year
In a middle of a busy cafeteria, you, Johnny, and Jaehyun are thinking of ways how to earn money for your dorm rent. This semester made you guys bring out a lot of cash because of books and some of your rent money was needed to sacrifice for education. But now that you guys are a month late with your rent, you have no idea where to get cash knowing all too well that your parents won’t chip in.
“I could sell some of my clothes” Jaehyun suggested while drinking his coffee.
“Dude your clothes are all black, no one would ever buy those” Johnny bites back just to annoy his friend. “Though girls will buy it because it’s from you-“
“Stop it with your nonsense John”
“Or! You can sell some of your nudes, I already know a lot of buyers” Johnny added with an annoying smile.
“Or you two can just fuck each other because you’re the hottest guys on campus but your asses are broke” you tease them further but you have no idea that you just gave out the solution to all your problems. “What?” you asked them as they both smile at you, shy for no reason, and eyeing each other like they’re having a secret conversation using their eyes.
Johnny clears his throat before he starts, “You just suggested to make porn… and porn is good money. A few students do it these days” he clears his throat again before he continues, “We know because we watch porn-“
“Okay, I don’t need to know that part. What are you saying? Are you suggesting we make porn?” you said, eyes big as you look at them.
“You suggested it. Not us. But yeah. It’s good money Y/n” Johnny once again explained.
“Well, okay. I’ll hold the camera while you two fuck. How do we do this?” you avoid their eyes as your body heats the more you talk.
“Nuh-uh, I’m not fucking Johnny” Jaehyun announces.
“Nope. Me too I’m not fucking Jaehyun, you choose Y/n. No hard feelings, but consider the size” he winks but you know that he’s just joking.
Good thing the awkward conversation was cut when your alarm went off and you have to go to your next class. You gather your stuff and told them to think of better ways to earn money because there’s no way you’re having sex with any of them. Especially not with Jaehyun.
The idea of making money through porn crosses your mind every five minutes and you can’t concentrate with your class. Plus, your landlord kept on sending messages reminding you that in three days, you’re going to be two months late with the rent. But still, whenever you imagine having sex with any of them, it gives you great goosebumps and you can’t handle the awkwardness anymore.
After your class, you were spacing out and still weighing things over regarding the porn making, and unexpectedly, one of your friends brought up ‘amateur porn’ and you’ve never been so nervous in your life. She was talking about how she and her boyfriend went live for a good twenty minutes and they made loads of cash, “and guess what, it’s all for fun! We were really just fooling around but apparently, people do love those kinds of stuff and they pay good money”
Your mouth almost fell when she mentioned the cash they earned for only twenty minutes. And in that twenty minutes, you can cover one month's rent pay already. You just have to cum in front of thousands of people. So with a mind blinded by the possibility of earning too much cash, you said yes to the idea of making porn. The only question is, with whom?
Johnny and Jaehyun stood in front of you as they wait for your answer after telling them what your friend told you about making porn. Of course you picked Jaehyun. Not because you miss him, and not because you have history, but because you don’t want to be awkward with Johnny. While Jaehyun on the other hand is feeling proud and hopeful behind that poker face of his, he thought that you chose him because you already know what’s in store for you if you fuck with him again and of course he thought that maybe you miss him.
“Johnny doesn’t really need to hold the camera for us right? We can just place it, and secure it somewhere” you added and watch Jaehyun agree without looking at you.
“You two have the place tomorrow night then. M-make sure you raise the quota and cover three months of payment... for safety” Johnny says to Jaehyun and you with a smile that says, ‘thank goodness I didn’t have to watch you both fuck’.
Before you sleep tonight, unexpectedly Jaehyun paid you a visit. And there’s that nervous feeling again, you feel like you’re back in your freshman days when you don’t know what to do whenever you see Jaehyun and you just have to pretend that nothing is bothering you.
Breathing in and out, you opened the door quickly and went back to your bed and under the covers to cover your exposed legs. Little did you know that Jaehyun already saw that you’re not wearing anything besides your lacy panties and an oversized shirt.
“Your ears are red,” you teased him.
“Well next time you should wear pajamas instead of your underwear to sleep” he winked and placed the mask that you’re going to be using tomorrow and sat on the edge of your bed.
“What are you? A stranger? You’re so far, come here” you invited him under your sheets and lie in bed face to face like nothings bothering you two. You put your hand above his head and feel his soft locks, careful not to grip so hard and hurt the man you used to have feelings for.
This is why Jaehyun can’t move on from you. You always make him feel like he’s your favorite person in the world.
“Are you going to leave me hanging again after we have sex tomorrow?” You confronted him.
“That’s impossible now, we live together” he giggles and catches your hand so he could hold it.
“Just promise me after the sex tomorrow we’ll still be friends” you felt his grip loosen up like he became hopeless like he didn’t like what you just said.
“I was actually going to say that I want us to try again. Get things right this time”
And in that very moment, your world stopped and your body feels hot, suddenly you’re sweating and your heart is beating faster. To be honest you don’t know what to say.
Then,
“Kidding. I’m kidding. Just making you laugh before you sleep, and y-yeah. I promise nothing will change between us, cross my heart” he got up from your bed, turned off the lights and turned on your lampshade. “Sleep well okay?”
And just like that, he left again. You don’t know if you were relieved that it was only a joke or your heart broke because deep inside, you’re waiting for him to tell you that ever since Freshman year. Nonetheless, you do what you do best. Sleep it off and pretend nothing happened.
On the next day, you were at the kitchen preparing breakfast and spacing out while you flip pancakes. Most of them got burnt and you blame Jaehyun for that.
“I told you to sleep, didn’t I?”
There he goes again, startling you and flashing a very handsome smile at you like you’re not about to do something stupid later. “Johnny went to work early and took an overtime tonight just so you won’t get shy” he hands you a glass of water, figured you might need one because you looked so tensed.
“We can always text him when we're done” you added, he nods. And there’s the awkward silence again.
You finish your breakfast in one go, not even looking at Jaehyun. Usually, during breakfast, you talk mostly about your plans within the day but given the situation right now, obviously, you don’t want to know his plans because that includes you. Good thing the day went on normally. You cleaned the living room, he cleaned the kitchen, you cleaned your room, he cleaned his. You saw him changing his bedsheets and you think that’s a sweet gesture, you wanted to tease him but that won’t help you with your nervousness so you just smiled at him when he caught you looking.
When it’s finally afternoon and you’re going to fuck live in a few minutes, you were surprised at what he did to his room just so you won’t get nervous anymore. The golden ray of afternoon light was perfect and helped you calm in no time, Jaehyun lit some scented candles and lowered the thermostat of his air conditioning so you won’t get cold.
“Thought I should make this special- not that I’m saying our first wasn’t “ he rambles and scratches his head, ears turning red and now you can see that he’s nervous too. “But come on, I want to do right for you” he caresses your shoulders and nods his head as a signal that you two needed to start.
The mood was nothing like your first, there was no sexual tension or any sign of desire to fuck each other. In other words, he looked like he’s just doing this for the dorm rent and you are too. That’s why maybe stripping in front of Jaehyun while your back is against him was easier than you thought. But you didn’t know that the man was craving for you. He wanted to be the one removing your clothes while his lips roam on your neck, make you feel good and wanted just before the live starts. He wanted to do that.
“Remember your promise okay?” You put on your mask and Jaehyun did too. He was still fully clothed and while you’re lying in his bed comfortably, watching him strip in front of you but not for you. The camera is right above your head so the viewers can imagine that they are the ones having sex with Jaehyun. If that won't give you a lot of money then you don’t know what will.
Jaehyun was a natural, you wanted to tell him that he does look like a pornstar but you’re not allowed to talk. When he finally crawled on the bed, straight between your legs and spread them according to his want, a shiver went straight to your spine and immediately made you wet. He shamelessly kissed your inner thighs first and went all the way up until he reaches your lips.
Finally. You both thought.
But his kisses were different and you wonder why. You feel like you’re not kissing Jaehyun because you know how his kiss can affect you, although his touch was still the same. He can still make you jolt and part your lips with just using his fingers and a few teasing here and there. And when he finally put his cock inside you, that’s the part where you finally believe that Jaehyun is indeed the one in bed with you right now. You will never forget how that cock feels inside you, “I miss you” he whispered very softly, hoping that the viewers did not hear it.
Time flies so fast that the live will end in ten minutes now and Jaehyun has been fucking you deep and slow like he’s savoring the feeling again. When you heard him grunt and moan, that made your toes curl and clench accidentally around him. Making him groan a little louder and fuck you a bit faster. You moaned so loud just so he knows you’re very much close to your high, and in just a few minutes you both cum together and the next thing you know he’s pulling out and letting his cum land on top of your pussy lips for the viewer’s pleasure.
Fuck you wish he didn’t pull out.
He grabbed his phone from above you and turned the damn timer off because you may not know, but the timer was screaming at him that his time with you is over. You removed your mask and he removed his too. And there you saw tears in his eyes, or maybe those are sweat? Nonetheless, you asked him what’s wrong and made him look at you. But instead of answering your question, he kissed you. Hands on both sides and cupping your face as he kisses you deeper.
And there’s that kiss you’ve been waiting for. The kiss that you’ve been wanting to experience again for years and years. You shouldn’t be happy, but you’re actually genuinely happy that your rent pay is late and you get to do this again with Jaehyun.
“I missed you too” finally you said it.
He smiled so sweetly to you and went back to the kiss, spreading your legs again, checking your slit if you’re still wet. And without further ado, he thrust in. Slowly again, but this time he’s proving a point. Like he’s telling you something. And now that you can see his face, you can’t help but feel excited and the butterflies in your stomach are very much excited too that you were smiling in between kisses.
“Ride me” he says, and effortlessly he trades places with you. Holding you on your back, lips still locked like you’re not planning to stop any time soon. And for your own pleasure, you guided his hands and made him knead your boobs. He did more than kneading, Jaehyun sucked your nipples and pinched them to hear you moan.
“A lot has changed Jae” you said, pushing him down to the mattress and intertwined your fingers with his, kissed them and placed them on your hips. You started rolling your hips without a warning, making the man underneath you close his eyes and part his lips. There are many things you wanted to do with him now that you had the privilege to ride him, but you decided to go hard because this might be the last time you’re going to fuck Jaehyun again.
You ride him like you didn’t have sex for years. Skin slapping from rolling your hips faster than he expected, letting your boobs bounce in front of him and letting him touch them whenever he wants to. “It’s hard to pull out when you’re on top, want to switch places?” He was struggling to talk, obviously he’s trying so hard not to cum yet but you’re good at what you’re doing.
“Not tonight” and that promise just made Jaehyun moan deliciously like he’s excited to cum now just so he can experience cumming inside you.
“Y-yeah. That’s right Y/n fuck me. Oh you fuck me so good! Shit- why did I ever let you go. Fuck”
The thing is, you love seeing him all fucked up and love hearing him praise the way you fuck him... but he chose the wrong words. And those words went straight to your heart. The words ‘Why did I ever let you go?’ repeated over and over again while you ride so fast that you’re overstimulating him already. He was begging for you to stop but it was too late when you heard him.
When you finally stopped, you see his cum dripping from your pussy even though you’re not yet removing his cock from you. You catch your breath for a second and came closer to Jaehyun. Good thing he has enough strength to hug you and roll you to the mattress so he could have the honor to pull his cock out.
“You’re right a lot has changed,” he says because his silly crush on you grew and grew and now he’s completely in love with you. “Let’s not shower together, I’m afraid I’ll lure you to have shower sex with me”
“And what’s so wrong about that” you bite back.
“Oh so you’re confident now huh,” he kissed you once again, and shit you never want him to leave your lips.
But every good thing comes to an end. You went back to your room and showered separately, as planned and when you went to the living room, he was all cleaned up and looking so fresh. He was wearing his glasses, hair almost covering his eyes, he looked cozy in his oversized shirt and his favorite plaid pajamas. “Come here,” He pats the seat next to him, signaling you to come watch Netflix with him. Surprisingly, his arms wrapped around you and kept you close to him, subtly smelling your shampoo. He giggled at the thought of imagining you taking a shower while smiling because the sex was fucking awesome.
He played a movie and watched it with you just so he can still keep you close to him. Not even halfway through the movie, he caught you sleeping soundly on his lap and slowly covered your exposed legs with the blanket on the couch. He pats and pats your head until his attention was no longer in the movie that he’s watching but his mind lingers to what happened earlier and eventually fell asleep beside you too.
It was very late when Johnny went home and caught you two all snuggled up on the couch, snoring and slept through to what you were watching. He had a hunch that you two had a great time, smiled and turned off the TV, and wished you both a good night's sleep.
“I have bad news” Johnny announces as you and Jaehyun wake up together on the couch, all smiles and in an incredibly good mood but Johnny was quick to ruin that. “The money you earned from yesterday’s live was not enough”
You don’t know why Jaehyun was still smiling at you even though what Johnny just told you completely ruined your day already. “That’s not bad news, right?” He whispers to you and gave you a look. “I’m okay with doing it again until we cover everything” Jaehyun says to Johnny while you three sit in front of each other, drinking your coffees.
“I’ll work double shifts at the radio station- are you fine with doing it again Y/n?” Johnny asks, and for a second there you feel like you’re in the hot seat.
“Y-yeah. I’m okay with it” you scratch your nape and awkwardly sip your coffee, “it’s easy money, I think if we do more lives we can cover three months pay”
“More lives it is. Don’t worry John, I’ll take other slots at the radio station too for groceries and stuff” Jaehyun added.
The live fucking continues and so is fooling around with Jaehyun, having better sex every after going live and whenever Johnny is not around. It’s like playing with fire, but you don’t exactly know if what you’re doing is wrong or right because you’re both single, so why are you guys hiding? You don’t get it, but you just go with the flow, enjoy what’s happening and hope for the best.
Every sex you have grown more and more intense to the point that your beds are moving and that gives you better reviews in live fucking. Not to mention the money is better now and you’re saving up faster than expected. But whenever the camera is off and you’re having sex without an audience, you guys fuck like you’re together and you love each other.
Sweet love bites here and there, sincere praises and longer kisses. For Jaehyun he feels like he’s having a dream because he gets to do the things he wanted to do with you. Remove your clothes while kissing you, whisper the things he has been holding back to say for years, and make you feel loved and important.
And just like the sex, your cuddling session became even warmer and sweeter. Cuddling after you take a shower has always been your thing, he visits you in your room with damped hair and you help him dry his hair, Netflix and chill, or order in and have a great meal together.
Days went by and you’re getting used to this sweet Jaehyun and you well know that’s dangerous. But you love every dangerous thing about Jaehyun. The following days grew extremely sweet and intimate. You sleep in his room every night and basically do everything together from now on. The only time you two were apart is during class hours but after that, Jaehyun is right outside your classroom waiting for you.
“What are you doing?” you giggle and try to finish the book you’re reading in bed when Jaehyun suddenly entered your room, crawled on your bed, and went in between your legs. Removing your glasses for safety, inviting you to fuck while Jaehyun nibs your ear and caress your legs. Oh his kisses always make your head turn and ask for more.
“Johnny is not around and I just took a shower, hmm? What do you say?” He uses that cute tone that can always make you stop what you’re doing and say yes to him. Forget the book, you can finish it later.
Removing your shorts and underwear while he continuously kisses you, smiling and giggling while he whispers ‘you always look pretty’ before he removes your shirt and exposes your boobs to him. You tried getting up and help him remove his clothes, but he stopped you and kissed you down on the mattress. “Nu-uh. Stay there I’ll treat you good tonight” he winked and proceeds to remove his clothes in between your spread legs, your hands roam freely in his well sculpted and fucking beautiful body.
Then he reached for your phone and took a nice picture while you two are kissing. The sound of the camera clicking made your eyes open, “send me this picture later. So I can stop missing you” you smiled and nod, then Jaehyun took one too many pictures so he could focus on you again. When he’s finally contented with all the pictures he got, he finally thrust in deep and slow while his mouth is sucking one of your nipples and he looks incredibly handsome.
This time, it’s you who grabbed your phone and took some pictures of him sucking your boobs and making you feel good, taking some pictures of his cock inside your pussy while he thrusts. Jaehyun had the idea of taking a video while you two fuck but this time, it’s for his and your eyes only. He took the phone from you and recorded how he fucks you good, and did not miss the part where you part your lips and moan.
“Jaehyun I’m almost there” you moan out, fingerings raking his nape or on his beautiful body. He puts the camera on the bedside table with a perfect angle of him fucking you, without masks or any cover. He intertwines his fingers with yours before he fucks you hard and fast. The camera that’s recording everything was completely forgotten and Jaehyun focused on making you feel good, making you cum at least two times using his dick and his fingers.
After your second high you were so exhausted that you were breathing heavily and Jaehyun is helping you to calm down while kissing your boobs and sucking them playfully. Even your cute moments like this was caught on camera and Jaehyun was more than happy about it.
“You okay? Want to cum for the third time?” He reached for your phone, stop the recording and went back in between your legs again and kiss you wherever he wants. You didn’t answer him ‘yes’ because to be completely honest you were still exhausted and he understood you well. For a good quiet minutes he was just staring at you, flashing his dimples, raking his fluffy hair and biting his lips at the same time. The silence felt good and not the usual awkward silence you have.
“The next live that we will be doing is going to be our last. And our dorm rent will be settled in no time” he started.
“And?”
“I’ll miss you”
Ouch. You wish he kept the quietness and peace instead. Just as you thought that life will now let you be with Jaehyun peacefully, here comes the heartbreak again. Truth is Jaehyun is still scared and very much afraid to hurt you that’s why he just wanted to fix himself before he could date you officially. He didn’t want to pursue his feeling with you just because you did porn together and fucked live, no you deserve better than that.
He loves you. So much, but he’s not ready yet.
You wanted to shout at him and asked him what else does he want from you? He is so good at making you feel like you’re always not enough for him and that makes your mind go crazy. He did it again. He left you hanging again when you’ve completely fallen in love with him. Turns out he’s not willing and ready to catch you. But as usual, you do what you do best. Shrugged it off and continue to live like it’s not bothering you.
The live fucking and porn making stopped for a while because you and Jaehyun have final exams. And the awkwardness between you and Jaehyun came back in no time, nonetheless, it was a good week to have a breather and to let yourself think straight. But still, you can’t help but think about everything and miss Jaehyun.
“Are you on your way home?” Johnny asks Jaehyun through the phone.
“Yeah, just buying us dinner”
“Good. Y/n is on her period”
“Am I suppose to be happy because I didn’t get her pregnant?” He chuckled proudly and having no clue what Johnny was saying.
“Take care of her she has period cramps dumb ass!“
“Oh right- right… sorry. Okay, yeah”
When Jaehyun arrived with the stuff that Johnny told him to buy for you and the dinner Jaehyun bought you, you were twisting in hurt inside your room grunting and very vocal about the pain while you hug the hot compress Johnny left you when Jaehyun entered your room.
“Ah- fuck it hurts” you groan and curl yourself, pressing that hot compress more on your lower abdomen and endure your period cramps. Jaehyun is just so sweet to stay beside you and rub your back while he watches you suffer.
“I want to help. Do you need anything other than that hot compress?” He was concerned and willing to make you feel better.
“Nothing I’m fine. You’re so sweet” you said in a little irritated tone but you’re not actually irritated with him. He scrolls through his phone with one hand, while the other is rubbing and caressing your back to give you comfort.
“Google says sex is good when-“
“I’m not having period sex with you, Jaehyun” but you do want him to touch you. Stupid hormones. Stupid period. It just makes you crave for him even more, desperate for even a kiss, or even just with his body closer to you.
“Are you horny?” He asks without shame, smiling at you and hoping that you say yes.
“I am” you admitted
“Just say yes, I got you” he was like seducing you, luring you to sin with him tonight while you bleed. And you like it.
“Okay” you answered softly. Shy but he knew you’re not that type anymore.
Jaehyun scoop over and went under the covers with you. Giving you that warmth that you need, making your body warm and comfortable, and basically giving everything you want. He intertwines his fingers with you, kissed your knuckles, and then your lips. Softly. Slowly. It’s every girl’s dream kiss. And just like his kiss, his hand creeps under the covers, all the way down until he reaches your thighs and spread one leg to gain access to your hole.
“W-wait. Let me just remove the tampon” shyly you inform him and discarded it quickly under the covers and throw it into the trash bin. Going back to the comfort that Jaeyun is giving you, his hand went back in between your legs and tease your clothed slit the moment you’re back under the covers. Smiling so handsomely and innocently while he lies beside you like he’s not doing something lustful under the covers.
“Do you think this will work-“ and just before you finish your question, Jaehyun ran a finger on your very wet slit which turned him on immediately. He flicked his finger, drawing small circles in your nub and listening to you moan while your grip on the sheets tightens and try your best not to close your legs.
“Do you like this?” his lips were very close to your neck and the way he talks to you was so sultry that even his words can make you moan.
“Mhmm. F-fuck Jae, my clit is sensitive” but your legs say others wise because you spread them even more under the covers and your hips voluntarily move to meet his fingers. When he felt your legs shake and hear your moans become higher than usual, he figured you were close, went on top of you and started to hump your thigh while his hand is inside your now ruined panties reaching deep in your hole making you feel good and over sensitive. Jaehyun grunted so loud and moaned deliciously beside your ear, moving his hips like how he fucks you and you feel his hard cock poke your thigh from the inside of his pants. Soon, Jaehyun came inside his pants and did not care about being embarrassed.
While you were coming down from your high, the man on top of you kept kissing you like you’re all that matters to him. Even though you well know that you’re just fooling yourself.
The night ended with Jaehyun sleeping beside you and further taking care of you after you both cleanup. But you woke up the next day without him beside you and thankfully, Johnny came out of nowhere to rescue you from your ugly thoughts. He came into your room with a cup of coffee and some bread for you, smiling like he has no problems in life and to be honest, you love how he’s always like this.
Since both of you don’t have classes today, you went to the groceries with Johnny and had a nice dinner at a fast food he loves. It felt great. It felt great to be with a guy who’s not Jaehyun. The man always keeps you on your toes and you feel like your head is always in the clouds whenever you’re with him but Johnny, he keeps you grounded.
“Shoot. The landlord is really testing me- he wants the money tonight or else they have to kick us out tomorrow. Fuck!” He says typing aggressively on his phone, telling Jaehyun immediately.
“Were not due until next week why are they doing this to us. We have no choice but to go live then” you said calmly, unbothered as much as possible because you just want this to be over now and move on from Jaehyun.
“You can't. You have your period and Jaehyun is not available- fuck why is he not picking up”
“There are other ways to make a guy cum Johnny. I’m sure you know that” you chuckle and shook your head in disbelief.
“Still, Jaehyun is not answering” he gave up and put down his phone.
“Well you’re available. I just want this to be over Johnny” clearly he didn’t expect you to suggest such a thing. You continue to eat your food in silence and so is the man in front of you. Obviously, he was bothered with what you suggested but it appears that he has no choice. You watch him fidget on his phone, maybe he’s not yet done contacting Jaehyun and still hoping that his friend will end up last minute but...
“Okay” he let a sigh of relief, “I texted Jaehyun that well do it but we're not going to uhm- uh, fuck. Blow job then? No more, no less? A bit of kissing maybe. Tell me what do you want? I’ll be able to do this comfortably if I know that you like what I’m doing to you”
“Hmm. Okay, let’s start by... be gentle with me. You’re a big guy and you know... what I mean”
“I may be big physically but I’m warm on the inside, being gentle is not a problem” he smiles and pour you a glass of water before he asks for the bill. “What else?” he added.
“Touch me, don’t hesitate. If you feel like my jaw needs rest then you can tell me to stop” he nods and told you he will surely not forget about that.
The conversation went on until you reached home and get ready for the live. Unlike Jaehyun who made you feel so nervous the day you had your first live with him, Johnny makes you feel calm and comfortable the whole time.
Now that you’re in front of Johnny, half naked with only your panties and your mask on, everything happened perfectly. It wasn’t perfect but it wasn’t awkward too, and quite frankly you had fun with Johnny. Even though the audience noticed that you’re not with Jaehyun right now, they can’t help but love Johnny’s hot body too and the way he fuck your face gently in front of the camera. Hands cupping both sides of your face as he thrust his long, hard and veiny cock in your mouth. Smiling through the pleasure whenever you purposely swirl your tongue and bob your head aggressively.
After the cum-filled and messy live with Johnny, you wired the money to your landlord immediately and secure the rent for good until the three of you graduates. Now you and Johnny can breathe normally after cleaning up and enjoy the warmth of your bed. “Do you like Jaehyun?” He blurted out, trying not to look at your exposed boobs but you roll your body and face the ceiling and so his efforts went to waste.
“Yeah but I don’t think he likes me enough. Y-you know what I mean” he shook his head to tell you he has no idea about Jaehyun’s intentions with you.
“Just have patience with him if you like him, after all, you’re the only girl that can do this to him”
“Do what?” you ask with eagerness.
“Did you really think that I won't notice you two fucking behind my back?” You laughed at what he said and laughed your shyness away, “but it’s alright. I figured maybe you like each other so I didn’t dare stop you two”
The giggling and laughing with Johnny under the soft light of your lampshade continued until you passed out and Johnny was the one who helped you get dressed. And on the same night, Jaehyun heard and saw you and Johnny laugh over a half closed door. Seeing your bodies close to each other made his blood boil and became jealous in no time. That’s why on the next day, Jaehyun was expressing his anger while you three are gathered in the kitchen. He’s not saying a word, but he kept on closing the cabinets a little too rough while he prepares his meal. Then it hit you, he’s jealous.
You confronted him and went to his room, closed and locked the door so Johnny won't hear the unpleasant conversation you’re about to have with Jaehyun. “Don’t be angry with Johnny, I’m the one who suggested it-“
“Like that’s going to make me feel better Y/n. Get out, you’re wasting your time” he turned his back and proceeds to fix his bed.
“It’s not like we cheated Jae. Were not together” you blurted as calm as possible. Little did you know that you just triggered something in him that makes him want to punch a wall and pour his anger out but he can’t. At least not in front of you. So instead, he shouted at you. So loud that you got scared for a second there.
“You know, I’m always afraid to hurt you but you! You don’t care if you hurt me!”
“Don’t act as if you love me, Jae. You never did. You never even tried!” You shouted back and walked away towards his door, banging it and walked straight to your room with tears in your eyes.
The fight was short but unforgettable.
Later that day, Jaehyun got worried when you didn’t eat lunch and dinner and your door was still locked and he can hear you crying from the other side. He kept on knocking at your door until you got annoyed and unlocked it but you covered yourself with your thick sheets.
“Come on why are you crying? Don’t cry over a stupid guy like me you don’t deserve it. I’m sorry” you feel his embrace and rub your back so you know that he’s sincere. And finally, you removed the sheets but still, you don’t want to look him in the eye.
You have a lot of questions for Jaehyun, and you think now is the perfect time to cry it all out and let him know what he’s doing to you. Why he didn’t text you back the night after you fuck for the first time, why he never ask you out when he promised he would, why he’s jealous all of a sudden.
FLASHBACK (In the middle of junior year)
It was very late already and some crazy person is ringing your doorbell nonstop. This couldn’t be Jaehyun or Johnny obviously they don’t need to ring the doorbell because they live here and they know the code. That’s why you were surprised that Jaehyun is the one ringing it and turns out he is batshit drunk and can’t even remember the code. “Where is Johnny when you need him” you murmur, “Jae, help yourself too. I can’t carry you all the way up to the fourth floor,” you said sternly to the handsome guy clinging on to you, breath smells like alcohol, eyes lidded but can still appreciate your beautiful face.
When you finally carried him successfully back to your place, without any hesitation he puked on your sleepwear and smiled so sweetly at you like he did nothing wrong. You wanted to slap him and wake him from his drunken state but Jaehyun was quick with his hands and unbutton your sleepwear and used it to wipe the small amount of puke on the floor.
You cover yourself with your arms and walked straight to your room and get a clean shirt before you take care of Jaehyun. He was murmuring “sorry” as he sees you walk away from him and weakly sit on the floor with dirty clothes and hope that you will come back to him.
When he sees you all dressed up again with a damped cloth on your hand, he smiled and spread his arms like he’s about to give you a hug. “Why are you acting cute- here hold this while I remove your socks” you hand him the damped cloth and proceed to remove his dirty socks and throw it with your dirty sleepwear. He looks at you lovingly as you wipe his face with the utmost care, looking at your lips and thinking about kissing it but no. He may be drunk but he won’t do that to you.
“Go on a date with me,” he says while you continue to wipe his face and help him take off his hoodie. You giggle and boops his nose before you stand and help him to get on his feet, “try asking me again when you’re sober” you opened his room door and told him to don’t forget to change his pants and greet him good night.
But after a few minutes, you’re all tucked in bed and half asleep already when you feel a pair of arms cage you. You can still smell his breath and figured maybe Jaehyun is clingy like this whenever he’s really drunk, which rarely happens.
“It's so sweet, knowing that you love me. Though we don't need to say it to each other, sweet. Knowing that I love you, and running my fingers through your hair. It's so sweet” he sings a few lines from Sweet by Cigarettes After Sex and smells your hair until his breath tickles your nape.
Sweet. He’s not only clingy while he’s drunk, but he’s sweet too. “I think I like you more when you’re rarely this drunk” you turn your body and faced him. Seeing Jaehyun with sleepy eyes, lips curved in a weak smile, but arms conscious enough to keep you near him.
“Then I’ll get drunk every day if that makes you love me”
But on the next day, he just thanked you for taking care of him and forgot about the date. And on the next few days and following weeks, you hear him fuck different girls and have one night stands every now and then.
BACK TO PRESENT TIME SENIOR YEAR
“I keep on hurting you I’m sorry. Don’t cry, please. I hate that I’m hurting you. This is the reason why I can’t pursue my feelings for you. I’m a mess and I’m not ready”
And just as you thought that this day couldn’t get any worse. It just did. You look at Jaehyun as he tells you the truth and admits his true feelings with you. How he fell in love with you but chose not to pursue his feelings because he’s not ready and you deserve better. And from there you stopped listening to him and told him to leave you alone. Jaehyun was speechless and hopeless, he wanted to explain and express his long bottled feelings for you but you don’t want to.
All this time you thought that it’s you who’s lacking that’s why he can’t even try and ask you out. But now that you know the truth and he would rather make you feel small than swallow his pride and try to make things work with you, well you just can’t be around him anymore.
Graduation is approaching near and your dorm has been quiet ever since you finished paying the rent and Jaehyun got mad because of what you and Johnny did. You look at the quiet place while you eat your instant noodle and reminisce the good days you spent with the two giants who made your college years unforgettable and happy. Actually, they even made your life easier.
Days become even more lonely now that Jaehyun and Johnny became busy with their last requirements and you’ve been alone for a few days now. You wake up without the two boys, go to class or run some errands, they go home but you’re not home, and by the time you arrive home they have shifts to the radio station again.
Today is your birthday and you spend it with some of your classmates which are all sweet and you treat them to dinner. Johnny left a bouquet of flowers on your bed before he left for work, together with a sweet happy birthday card. And Jaehyun… well, let’s just say that maybe he forgot about it because being a graduating student makes you busy.
While you were having a nice dream of Jaehyun singing a happy birthday song to you with a small cupcake in his hand, in reality, he woke you up by patting your head and a kiss on your forehead, whispering ‘I’m sorry’ and kissing your face until you’re awake and what’s happening right now is finally registering in your mind. You wrapped your arms around him and decided to forgive him for being stupid and accept his apology. “Is this for me?” you point at the chocolate cake on the bedside drawer a blew the candle, making your room dark and only the soft light from your window lights up your room.
“What did you wish for” he came closer to you and rests his forehead on yours. Oh you missed his presence, but all you feel right now is the heartbreak and remember what happened a few weeks ago.
“You, Jaehyun” you whisper and closed your eyes, not caring if there are tears in your eyes. You’re not afraid to show him that you ache for him.
“I told you, I can’t-“ you didn’t want to hurt yourself further and listen to those hurtful words so you kissed him and pulled him on top of you.
Everything happened so fast and naturally. You removed your shorts, he was quick to spread your legs and free his hardening cock. Not even bothering to reach for a condom, he fucked you in the dark and whispered “I’m sorry” over and over again that it hurts your ear and your heart so you put your thumb in his mouth and let him suck it good while his thrust was slowly picking up the pace and you hear skin slapping surrounds your room
“Jaehyun-“ you moan his name when you felt that familiar feeling of being on edge but you’re not yet ready to let go. You’re not yet ready to let him go. So you tried with all your might to clench and stop yourself from cumming but what you’re doing to Jaehyun just makes him want to fuck you more.
And so he did.
He covered your mouth not because he didn’t want to let Johnny know that you’re fucking but because he never wants to hear your beautiful moans again. He closed his eyes so he could no longer see your face and dream about you underneath him, and with that, he continues to thrust so harshly that it’s hurting you so good and your grip on his shoulders will surely leave a mark.
Soon you failed and cum before Jaehyun could. You exchanged sharp exhales, gasps, and quiet grunts before he lies beside you and kiss you deeply the whole night. One last time.
As expected, you woke up alone in your bed with a sore body. You stretched for a few minutes before you got out of bed and head outside to have breakfast. At first, you thought that you will be alone again today but turns out Johnny is free.
“Belated Happy birthday. Did you like the flowers I got you?” he greets you good morning and gave you a bear hug.
“I did. I put it in a vase, it’s in my room. Thank you” now that Johnny is here and you’re not alone eating breakfast, you can’t help but wish for Jaehyun to be here.
“Jaehyun is uhm… working. I can take you out today, let’s have dinner and celebrate your birthday again. What do you say?” he offers excitedly and even showed you a great restaurant from his phone.
When the evening comes and you and Johnny should be out by now but you were having a hard time to chose what to wear, Jaehyun arrived out of nowhere with a girl on his shoulders. Someone not familiar and they’re holding hands.
“I think your friends are going out on a date aren’t they babe?” the girl asks Jaehyun, like she's tying to get his attention but Jaehyun’s eyes are glued on you. Eyes that are very much sorry because he didn’t mean for you to see his new girlfriend after your birthday. So this is why Johnny was rushing you tonight. He didn’t want you to see Jaehyun with his new girlfriend because he knew it will hurt you greatly.
“Y/n-“ Jaehyun called you but you didn’t bother looking back and told Johnny that you’re ready now… even though your earrings don't match with your dress. If he can try and be in a relationship with someone else then what does that make you? Why can’t he try for you?
The night went on, carrying the lie that you’re okay but to be honest, you don’t want to go back to that fucking dorm. Good thing, Johnny was trying so hard to cheer you up and make you forget about what happened. Which is working and for that you’re thankful.
On the same night, you swore to yourself that you will never let Jaehyun into your life again and make you feel small. You will never throw yourself to him again, or even spare a glance and waste your time with the one and only guy whom you allowed to break your heart over and over again. But not anymore.
Jaehyun was nothing but sweet to you and that’s all he’ll ever be.
Five years later
When you came home from work, you caught your boyfriend cooking dinner with a glass of cold wine beside him. You greet him, “hey” and kissed him on the cheek before you wrap your arms around his strong built body.
“Tired? Hows work? I have big news” he says while stirring something from the pan. You told him he could tell the big news first because he looks excited, and so he did. With big smiles and overflowing excitement, he said that “Jaehyun is going to get married and I’m his best man!” you almost let out a laugh but you stopped yourself.
“Mhmm. Guess who’s taking care of the wedding....” you teased him. But just as you burst your boyfriend’s bubble, his reaction was quite unexpected.
“N-no, don’t tell me it’s you” he suddenly stopped cooking, he wasn’t mad. Just shocked at the moment and because of the big news.
“Johnny- Don’t tell me you’re being jealous right now...” you tease him further, “he’s like a college fling baby, and you’re the real deal!” you kiss him on the lips but he’s still sulking and went back to cooking.
“We both know it’s not just a fling” he whines.
“He’s getting married and we’re literally inseparable. What are you so jealous of? You know I saw Jaehyun looked at his fiancé and guess what,”
“What?” he turns off the stove and prepared two plates for dinner which you helped him do.
“He never looked at me that way, but you did” you see a shy smile on his face now and poke his cheek but he's quick to catch your hand and pull you into a hug. The kind of hug only Johnny can provide.
“Sorry, that was so childish of me”
“It’s okay. Dinner looks good, is this a new recipe?”
Soon after dinner, Johnny expresses his apology in bed in many ways he can, making you feel good and treating you right as always until it became too exhausting because you don’t think you could cum anymore after having your fourth…or fifth? To be honest you’re not sure anymore.
But even though you’re tired and exhausted, you still can’t help but reminisce. Throughout the years of forgetting Jaehyun, Johnny has always been patient with you and waited for you to heal from Jaehyun. Johnny brought you to the movies and went out with you while Jaehyun only promised. It's like Jaehyun kept promising you things but Johnny is the one keeping them.
“I thought you’re exhausted?” He kissed your shoulder to bring you back to Earth when he saw you spacing out. “Stop thinking. I’ll marry you too, you know that right?” oh you know that all too well, so you nod and kissed him. Whispered ‘i love yous’ over and over again, and thanked him for being the one for you. It was never easy for both of you, but still, you yearn for each other. Sometimes, love will point us to the wrong person so we could find the right person to us. Yes, Jaehyun was sweet, but Johnny is not only sweet in fact he showed his love to you since day 1.
#nct-writers#neosmutcollective#neowritingsnet#kwritersworldnet#kpopscape#kdiner#cznnet#nct smut#jaehyun#jung jaehyun#jaehyun fluff#jaehyun angst#jaehyun smut#jaehyun x reader#jung jaehyun x reader#nct jaehyun#jaehyun imagines#jaehyun scenario#jaehyun scenarios
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Family’s Hard (Kristie Mewis x Reader)
Request: part 2 of the fic with Kristie that you post today! Maybe something with the r and Kristie both getting call for the national camp and we see a bit of what happen at camp with mal. pt 2. Maybe with both the reader and Kristine on the USENT roster and the fallout with Amal because of the reader being there. part 2 of the reader and mal meet up again joined by the team
Pt. One
You had never been more unhappy while staring at a plate full of pancakes in your entire existence. You loved your typical practice meal (and your girlfriend of almost a year’s hand on your thigh while you ate it), but you weren’t enjoying the disapproving glare you were getting from across the table. She had been like this the moment you stepped off the plane, and you feared she wouldn’t stop until camp was over.
It wasn’t like you decided to sit at this table to annoy Mal. Kristie wanted to sit with Sam, and you weren’t about to brave the dining room all by your little lonesome (plus you liked the team's Tower of Power and enjoyed watching the siblings banter).
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, pushing your chocolate chip pancakes around the plate, and keeping your eyes trained on your fork.
“You ok?” Your girlfriend asked, her lips caressing your ear. You didn’t miss the way your older sister's nose scrunched at the looseness between you and the older midfielder.
“Just tired. The flight from Houston was super long,” You mumbled, shrugging lightly.
“You sure?” Kristie nudged your cheek with her nose and squeezed your thigh. You had been jittery since you left your shared apartment in Houston to head for camp and no amount of reassuring from your girlfriend seemed to be helping.
“Psh. The flight home from France was exhausting, and then we had to get ready for good morning America. That was crazy, right Sammy?” Mal said with a wicked smile, completely cutting you off. Your mouth clicked shut and Kristie squeezed your thigh again (her jaw working overtime to prevent the scathing comment from leaving the tip of her tongue).
Mal had been impossible since you stepped foot into the hotel the USWNT had commandeered for camp. She had swung between outright bitchy and underhanded reminders of Jill's preference of her over you all day and Kristie was getting sick of it. Your shoulders slouched a little more with every remark, every jab clouding over a little bit more of your sunshine.
“That was pretty crazy,” Sam nodded, watching you and her sister carefully. She was trying to run as much interference as she could, but it seemed your sister wanted to make you as uncomfortable as possible. Almost like she was trying to drive you off the team.
“Definitely not as crazy as that party right after we won. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much champagne in my entire life. Not even after we beat Texas,” Mal added, and you shivered at the memory, wilting under her glare.
It was your freshman year (and coincidentally Mal’s senior year), and the first time the two of you had ever really played against each other. UCLA decimated your team and took over a frat house to celebrate. From what you heard, it was one of the biggest parties Texas A&M had ever seen.
Kristie sighed, wrapping the arm that was on your leg around your back, rubbing soothing circles. You leaned into the touch, still playing with the food on your plate, trying to hold your tongue and not rise to Mal’s prodding.
“From what I hear there was a lot of alcohol after Houston won the challenge cup,” Sam nodded, sharing a look with her sister and side-eyeing her friend.
“That was just beer, Sammy. It wasn’t as classy because no one cares about an arbitrary chaos cup win, especially after we won the World Cup. It’s all about scale,” Mal continued, completely ignoring the glare Kristie had pointed at her, enjoying the way you were squirming in your chair.
You shoved your plate away, giving up on eating. You didn’t want to be here.
“I'm sure. I’m gonna go. The uniform staff wanted to see me anyway,” You mumbled, just loud enough for Kristie to hear you (or so you thought).
Mal’s vicious smile grew. She just couldn’t seem to help herself when it came to you. You were always chasing after her, and this time she had done what you couldn’t. She wasn’t ready to give that up yet.
“I’d tell you to switch names, but all I can suggest is to pick a number you can actually live up to,” She sneered.
Your entire being froze and you blinked owlishly at your older sister (taking comfort in how Kristie's arm tightened around you). 13 had been your number since high school, but you knew that Alex was a vet and you weren’t stupid (or disrespectful) enough to even dream of trying to take it. You knew you would never be even close to the level of Alex Morgan.
You had accepted that and Instead chosen a different number, one you were proud to wear. You had no control over the last name on your jersey (until Kristie and you decided you wanted to get married, if you wanted to get married, and that was still pretty far off).
“Come on. They wanted to do a quick check-in with me too,” Kristie said, standing and dragging you with her out of the room, her eyes sending daggers towards your sister. She was done watching you collapse back into yourself.
****
Sam stared at Mal’s Cheshire Cat grin, her mouth agape. She didn’t understand why your older sister was being like this, or how she could continue eating as though she didn’t just rip you apart. (And at this rate someone had to stop her before Kristie killed her).
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sam said, leaning forward and resting both elbows on the table.
Mal shrugged, taking another sip of her orange juice. “What? I’m just being realistic,”
If you didn’t want to hear stories about their triumph at the World Cup, or how awesome the party was afterward, you could just find yourself a new seat (and take your girlfriend with you- you always did have to outdo her).
“You were a little harsh babe,” Rose said softly, patting the forward's hand.
Sam scoffed loudly, shaking her head. “She practically crumbled under that last comment,”
It was painful to watch your shy bean self withdraw back into the shell her sister worked so hard to crack. Even if you had Kristie here to support you, she wasn’t sure how long you would last without bursting into tears or getting into a screaming match with your sister. You were under enough pressure as it was.
“She’s just overly sensitive. If she wants to play in the big leagues she’s going to have to learn to stand up for herself,” Mal rolled her eyes.
It was a going joke in your family that Mal got the brains and beauty, while you just got the leftover emotions. Ever since you were kids, she had been the extroverted one saving you from bullies and being the “good example” that her parents wanted her to be. But this was her thing, and she didn’t want you horning in on it. (It was also a slight protective instinct too. She would rather be the one giving you shit than the media. They were ruthless and you would probably never forgive her. The road to hell was paved with good intentions after all.)
Sam sighed, taking in how Mal’s eyes tighten just a touch beneath her nonchalance. As much as she wanted to pretend she didn’t care about you, it was obvious that she did. The questions now were if she was willing to have a change of attitude and if she would even be able to repair the damage she had already done.
“Just be careful with how far you push her, alright?” Sam said thoughtfully.
Mal rolled her eyes again, any care she may have felt disappearing. “I know what I’m doing Sam,”
“I really hope you do, because I remember what it was like to always be trying to live up to your older sister and how difficult that was. And Kristie knew when to cut me some slack,” Sam said, raising her eyebrow at the younger woman.
She really hoped she could get through to her before Mal lost you, and Kristie kicked her head off.
*****
You sighed into Kristie's lips, enjoying the way her hips pinned you to the wall and her tongue explored your mouth. You weren’t one for public displays of affection, but she had dragged you into an abandoned corner of the hotel after your sister's clear display of disdain.
You guessed an upside to being at camp with Mal was your girlfriend's desire to cheer you up. You always responded better to physical contact (which was why Kristie used it to help you calm down all the time).
You hummed as the hands under your shirt made their way up to cup your cheeks, her fingers tangling in the baby hairs at the back of your neck. She let the kiss continue for another minute, before pulling back, so her lips were just barely ghosting over your own and your foreheads were touching.
You futilely tried to push off the wall and chase her lips, only for her to chuckle and pull back so you couldn’t reach, keeping you pinned with her hips.
“Ah, no more kisses until you say it,” She mumbled, her breath fanning across your lips.
You whined. You loved how supportive Kristie was, but you didn’t want to do this right now. You didn’t want to go through your normal reaffirmation routine. Not after the shots, Mal had taken at you.
“But-“
Kristie chucked at the keening whine again, shaking her head (both at how adorable your pout was and because she was standing her ground). She learned a long time ago that the best way to stop your mental spiraling was for you to say how worth it you were. “No buts. To get what you want you gotta say it,”
You huffed, I ally opening your eyes to look into Kristie’s determined blue. She raised her eyebrow at you.
“I’m an amazing person, no matter what anyone says,” You mumbled, looking away from your girlfriend. She hummed, using her thumb to tilt your chin back up.
“And?” She asked, a smile playing on her lips. Your pout deepened. You were set to start and Mal had made you feel bad about it. Now Kristie was trying to get you to admit that you deserved the opportunity.
The two of you stared at each other for a long minute, and you debated in trying to get back to the kissing again, to not say the last part of your mantra. Kristie's thumb ran soothingly over your cheek as if she was reading your mind. “Come on babe,” she said softly.
You bit your lip, finally giving in. “I shouldn’t feel guilty about opportunities I receive,”
“Good,” Kristie smiled, leaning back in to connect your lips. You smiled back into the kiss. Maybe things weren’t so bad if you got this treatment after your sister was mean to you, even if Kristie was trying to get you to finally confront her about her behavior. “And for the record, you can always say you’ll have a cooler last name later,”
*****
This was getting out of hand. Very out of hand. You hit the ground again, your face scraping against the turf after another bad tackle. You groaned, pushing yourself up off the turf and brushing yourself off, ignoring the hand of the defender in front of you in favor of taking the hand your girlfriend offered.
Kristie glared at the blond defender, very pissed off that she was pushing you so hard. “Fucking watch it Sonnett, another tackle like that and I’ll beat your ass myself,” Your girlfriend growled, brushing a stray piece of turf off your back.
Emily shrugged, awkwardly scratching the back of her neck. “Just trying to test the Rookie. Need to make sure she can handle a little pressure,”
She liked you, but with the pressure, Mal was putting n you, she thought that they were all going to go hard. To show you exactly how difficult this game could be and how much you needed to work to be on their level.
“I think Mal is doing enough of that on her own,” Kristie raised her eyebrow at the woman, still rubbing the turf off your back and cringing at the new burn. If this hadn’t been a teammate’s doing, she probably would have killed them by now. Ripped them limb from limb for touching you, but you didn’t need that. You needed her support and not her overprotectiveness.
“She actually needs to be able to play against Canada,” Sam said, patting her back. Emily shook her head. Mal was right. She would rather be the one to go hard on you and prepare you than some random defender who didn’t care at all.
As far as she was concerned, Mal’s plan was still in effect and you were going to have to pull some trick to get past her again.
****
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Kristie threaded a ball through the gap between Becky and Julie, straight to you. You turned, taking advantage of the gap in the backline, dribbling across to try and get a clear shot.
You didn’t see that gap collapsing. You didn’t see Emily and Midge racing towards you until it was too late. There was a loud crunch as you were caught between the two defenders, and tumbled to the ground.
The reaction from the rest of the team was instant. Kristie raced over, followed closely by Sam. Both women kneeling down next to you, trying to get you to roll over. It seemed that another blue blur was already laying into the two defenders.
“Lay the fuck off my sister,” Mal yelled, shoving Sonnett back from where her shifting form was standing over you.
Emily held her hands up in defense, stumbling away from you. “I’m just trying to keep the intensity up, exactly like you are,”
Mal growled audibly, stepping up to the taller defender and wrapping her fist into her shirt. “It’s different. She’s my sister and I’m the only one who gets to fuck with her. Got it,” she said her voice deadly calm.
Emily nodded rapidly, her eyes wide as Mal straightened her shirt, patting her shoulder. Emily backed away slowly, her hands still extended, terrified that Mal (and your girlfriend) would decide to actually kill her.
Mal nodded once the offending defenders were far enough away from you, before turning in your direction.
You were finally on your feet, shifting awkwardly and rubbing the back of your neck.
“Thanks,” You mumbled as she approached.
She smiled, pulling you into a very strange hug.“You got it, kid. I love you, even if you’re not as good as me yet,”
She let you go and winked. You smiled and trotted off back to your position, warmth filling you. Sure you weren’t on the best terms, but you were sisters and the act was like a white flag. A truce.
Kristie caught Mal’s arms as she passed. “Learn to lay off a little bit. I don’t want to have to hurt you,”
Mal nodded. You were family mad the only one who got to mess with you was her. She would kill anyone else who tried and she was glad you had gained two protectors.
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A lovely person who has asked to remain anonymous asked:
Hi, can I request headcannons for Iida, Todoroki, and Bakugo liking a brown female reader with bubblegum pink hair that has a quirk with wings and horns like Angelina Jolie’s Maleficent but magic like Scarlet Witch’s? She’s super intelligent, skilled, witty,crafty, and doesn’t let anyone push her around (big bottom energy tho). Also super, super clueless about when people want to befriend her or have romantic feelings for her. (Bonus: insecure about her horns and wings and they reassure her that she’s literally fucking gorgeous).
I would love to write this for you! I loved your character description, but a fair warning: I probably won't touch very much on the Reader being brown, seeing as I am as white as a ghost and also stupid. I hope you enjoy regardless. 😅
Also, I haven't written for Bakugo or Todoroki in a hot minute. This'll be fun
Warnings: Swearing
Masterlist
. . .
Tenya Iida
It’s not love at first sight, more like intrigue at first sight
He notices that you’re a loner. You don’t fall into groups the way everyone else does the first couple weeks of school
He mentions this to his friends once, and Midoriya’s like, “one sec,”
He leaves, then comes back 2 minutes later with you in tow
“She said she’s sit with us at lunch! I wanted to talk about her quirk anyway.”
You’re like “ok i guess this is happening”
And thus the Dekusquad adopts you
You’re a good foil for the group
Whereas Iida, Uraraka and Midoriya are generally cheery and good natured, you’re cynical and snappish, and get along surprisingly well with them all
Iida’s drawn to your prickly disposition. He attaches himself to you at the hip and you kind of let him
He’s nice enough. A little uppity, and certainly dramatic, but not insufferable
He finds himself becoming more and more taken with you by the day, and you find yourself becoming more adjusted to his presence
You’re not entirely sure why Iida insists on hanging around you so often, but you let him
You somehow missed the obvious heart eyes 🙄
One day, you’re hanging out with the girls, and Uraraka accidentally lets it slip that Iida has a crush on you
You go “Really? Does he?”
Literally all of them are like “....Did you not.... realize?”
It’s ok, you’re just a little dense
The girls convince you to ask him out, and you agree, albeit hesitantly
“I mean are you sure he-”
“YES, (Y/N)! He follows you around like a lost puppy!”
“That doesn’t mean he has a crush on me, though.”
“..... are you dumb???”
Shoto Todoroki
It’s funny because y’all are basically the same person
Super smart and powerful but really dense when it comes to emotions?
Ah yes. I see no problems here
You both ended up gravitating towards each other, just because you weren’t friends with anyone else
You shared a table at lunch but literally never spoke
You both had a mutual respect for each other, but it never really turned into anything more than that until..... you guessed: the Dekusquad adopted you two
They really do be taking in emotionally constipated and overpowered emos
You both talked more, and you started to grow on each other
When Todoroki first started falling for you, he legit thought he was dying 💀
His palms went clammy whenever you were close. His face heated up whenever you talked to him. His stomach seemed to tie itself it knots whenever he saw you.
Homie couldn’t connect the dots
Nor could you
Iida, Uraraka and Midoriya are watching you two like “can y’all just kiss already??”
One day, Todo notices that you seem more distant than usual
He pulls you aside after class and asks what’s up
After a little bit of gentle goading, you admit that someone called your horns ugly that morning
He literally says out loud “That’s just not true. There’re beautiful. All of you is beautiful.”
You take a minute to process his words, and that’s when it hits you that you like him.
“Oh shit,”
Katsuki Bakugo
Oh my god
You’re going to kill each other
So the Bakusquad forced themselves on Bakugo, right?
It was less of adoption and more of a kidnapping
They do the same more or less with you
Like the Dekusquad, the Bakusquad enjoys picking up less-then-friendly strays
You’re a little more accepting of your new group than Bakugo, who sticks around for you, ironically enough
Baku can’t deny that you’re powerful. You’re one of the strongest students there, and that makes you a rival
You settle right into that role, spewing insults and levying attacks at him
Y’all really said “enemies to lovers”-
Bakugo begrudgingly respects you, and you him
Neither of you can quite place when you stopped constantly scowling at each other and starting sharing knowing smirks
Somehow your rivalry lead to friendship
And then something more..... 👀
Like Todoroki, it takes Bakugo a while to figure out that he likes you, but when he does he’s like “No. Fuck. WHY?”
How did he go from hating your guts to wanting to kiss you stupid face?
You are equally confused
Baku asks you one day to go out for lunch with him, and you are thoroughly thrown for a loop
“I thought you didn’t like me.”
“...you’re not all bad.”
“....huh.”
“Well? Spit it out!”
“I thought I didn’t like you.”
“And?”
“You’re also not all bad.”
#mha#bnha#iida#tenya#tenya iida#iida x reader#tenya x reader#tenya iida x reader#todoroki#shoto#shoto todoroki#todoroki x reader#shoto x reader#shoto todoroki x reader#bakugo#katsuki#katsuki bakugo#kacchan#katsuki x reader#bakugo x reader#kacchan x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#mha x reader#bnha x reader
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dissolve me (repost)
(deleted this post on accident, reblog of original here)
Summary: We find out how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop. Except the Tootsie Pop is Horacio Carrillo.
Pairing: Horacio Carrillo x Reader
Word Count: 5k+ (look away)
Warnings: angst, fluff, gory metaphors (I use figurative language to mask the scent of flaming trash)
A/N: This is literally the first thing I’ve written in like 3 years so you have to be nice to me. Please give me feedback!! But it has to be exclusively positive or I will spontaneously combust!!!
Horacio is cold.
It’s a little past midnight and the Sun has been asleep for hours by now, but not Bogota. Instead, the city moves in slow motion, the weight of slumber heavy on its creatures as the few visible stars shush the agitated crickets. Somehow, even despite the Sun’s absence, it’s influence still blankets the trees. It accumulates, even. The hot radiation permeates the lungs of taxis and buildings, but the cool darkness brings life into the air as water begins to materialize on the sides of newspaper stands and underneath Horacio’s shirt. His clothes stick to him so tight (more than usual) that he thinks he may be drowning under the moon. He can taste the ocean on his tongue and the sensation is only relieved as he steps off the pavement and onto the tile of the rundown convenience store. The building, heavily air conditioned, makes each drop of sweat feel like icicles pricking into his fried red skin, but his body still burns from the residual heat.
Somehow, Horacio still maintains that icey core in his chest. So even as he makes a beeline for the refrigerated-goods, yes. Horacio is cold.
He exists as a green-sheet ghost walking through the aisles of the grocery store, barely conscious at 2 am as he searches for some goddamn milk. He knows he works too hard, knows his life is concrete and bricks screeching against his steel heart. Every morning he walks on glass to enter his office, and every morning he forces his feet to bleed. What else is there for him? His body has been adorned with splinters and cuts for so long now, so what’s a few more? Each night, he drags his body flat across the floor, just trying to make it out the door. Trying to escape an office that chews him up and spits him out, saliva covered and filthy.
But fuck if he just wants some milk.
So he makes this small trip before he heads home. Once he finds the dairy, his heavy eyes hoist themselves upwards, to the second-to-topmost shelf in the refrigerator. The last carton of fat free milk - dairy-flavored water - that he’ll chug the next morning. But just as his hardened fingertips reach for it, they meet something else; a third wheel to this toxic milk-Horacio romance that is ruining his plans for what might as well be the best morning he’s had in the past three milk-free days. His mind, once fuzzy from the sleepy grey clouds filling his lenses like cataracts, now feels a sharp jolt of electricity soar through it as his machine body is activated and his surroundings suddenly become clearer, laser vision kicking in. His senses are now sharper and his guard is completely up. His nerves begin racing as the data from his hands shoots straight to his brain to get integrated and that thing he’s feeling is...warm? Shit, no it’s hot. It fucking burns his skin and immediately he pulls back because his motherboard is screaming at him that he’s in danger.
His head shoots up and his eyes dart to the side as he turns to look, expecting a raging bonfire or boiling cast iron, but instead he sees a human. A sweet, candy person that looks almost surprised as he does, but with softer features and kinder eyes. He smells the caramel seeping out of your pores and it stings his olfactory nerves but perhaps he wants to smell it again so it can fill his lungs and then let it harden inside of his cold body. So that it can stay within him forever.
“Disculpame,” you say, remorse dripping out of your golden mouth and if his ears were in control, he’d beg you to say it again. Say anything. He recognizes your accent. Not a Columbian, but a gringo. His brain reminds his heart that hey, we don’t like selfish, egotistical gringos. His heart doesn’t listen.
“Go ahead,” he says, and shit he sounds horrible. He sounds fucked up, and it’s probably because he is fucked up. He talks like toothpicks and needles, but it’s okay because he got to speak to you and he’s never spoken to an angel before.
He notices how you relax a little at the sound of his English, and he feels that heat spread at the beautiful notion that he did that all by himself.
“No really, I don’t need it,” you insist, a small smile gracing your lips. “You’re very sweet for offering, though.” Huh?
Horacio Carrillo is not sweet. He doesn’t taste like sugar or chocolate or berries. Horacio is bitter gourd, burnt toast and that shitty part at the end of the banana that no one wants. Copper and hot tar oozing down taste buds and burning the frail pink dots along the way. Straight black coffee that’s tear-inducingly retched. Pepto Bismol and whatever the fuck is inside of those plastic pill capsules. Raw beef festering with E. coli and flies, a rotting corpse under a wake of vultures, the creepy old man that sits next to you on the train, mace burning your shivering eyes while you collapse to your shredded knees onto a floor of thumbtacks.
Horacio Carrillo is not sweet. But you said he was, and you are oh so persuasive. That’s when he felt the first one. Crack.
His mind goes into overdrive as panic sets in - what was that sound? What just broke? What crevice of his mind just ripped a little and how can he staple it back shut? He feels the slimey pus of his emotions begin to seep out of the opening a little, and he doesn’t like it. Not one bit. He wants to put his guard back up and regain control of this situation the way he’s been trained to do by offering you the carton and then leaving; defying your orders and following his own.
But who is he to refuse you?
“Thank you,” he says, and he’s just noticed that your hand is back at your side and your eyes shine a little brighter as your smile widens at his defeat. That was me, too. But then you’re turning around and leaving, messy bun flopping up and down as you walk towards the cash register and his heart is furious. It’s pounding in his ribcage like a ravenous shark caged in glass, telling him to not let you get away because it wants to burn in your soft flames and turn to ash in your fingers, but he stays planted. Watches you walk away and take that gentle radiating heat with you, leaving him just as hard and frozen as he was before he’d ever let you poke around into his soul. Suddenly he understands why you’d burned him so bad; doesn’t even the lightest match make that violent sizzling sound when it touches ice? But he can’t deny that you had melted him, just a little bit, and he can’t deny that he likes being a little watery.
He sees you again just a few days later. It’s a Sunday morning and Bogota is now wide awake. Pastel streaks fly down the streets as manifestations of yellow taxis, dusty red cars, and pale blue cyclers bring the canvas of the city to life. Horacio decides to be adventurous, introduce true exploration and child-like color into his monochrome world, and walk to the cafe near his street. A truly exhilarating touch, if he did say so himself.
Except he hadn’t prepared himself for the anarchy that would occur within him when he saw you again. The girl that was awake at 2 am and offered him white calcium water in a carton and called him sweet. You’re wearing one of those pink dresses that you just know is sleeveless, but a light denim jacket guards your shoulders and he can’t help but wonder what would happen if he just tugged on your collar a little bit, exposed some of your delicate skin and traced his fingers over it. Just closed his eyes and leaned down to brush his lips over - shit, fuck. What is he thinking? His eyes don’t know where to look, his heart doesn’t know how to beat, his lungs don’t know how to take in air. What do you do when you see a pretty thing in a pretty sundress? Certainly not function. Horacio wasn’t doing that at all. So he did the next best thing: sit at a table and watch you. That’s the next best thing, right?
He watches as you smile at the young man taking your order, talking to him like you know him, care about him. All you were doing was listing the ingredients you wanted in your drink, but your bright eyes twinkle with a sort of endearment that he isn’t used to. Like you were happy.
He is in awe of you. Horacio has worked so hard to stay numb, to feel nothing but that rusty scrape of motivation that made him do his job. But you made it look so easy to gush, to overflow and spill your delight with life onto everyone around you until that tired, overworked teenager behind the register was smiling too as he said “next!”
You turn your head to find a table once you pick up your order and panic settles into Horacio’s bones again as he reflexively turns his head away from you, but your keen eyes spot him. Oh, how you must pity him. The poor, miserable apparition from the grocery store. He feels that radiating heat begin to grow as you approach him at his table, so he pretends to not notice you. Pretends he’s numb as you thaw him into a dripping mess of thin ice and water.
“Is this seat taken?” you ask him, nodding to the other chair in front of him with a cup of coffee in your supple hands. Horacio’s tactful eyes scan the cafe once more; there’s other seats in the building, other men and women for you to pity. He’s been chosen. And he just can’t resist you, is too weak to deny himself that addicting sugary sweetness that you’re coated in because he’s not sure he’ll ever feel so soft again and he wants to savor it.
Horacio looks up at you, clearing his throat as he takes the kind of breath that you can feel as the air fills his lungs. He’s priming his voice to talk to you because this time, he wants to make it count.
“No,” he says. Fuck. In that moment, he couldn't remember having talked before. Has he ever spoken? Certainly not, or he’d know how to do it. But you don’t seem to mind his cold tone as you take the seat in front of you, and those damned eyes of yours are blinding to look at but god, who needs pupils anyway?
He can tell you’re curious about him. You want to pick him apart scab by scab and take him apart into individual fibers until you get to that soft mushy center that is Horacio Carrillo. You want to see him naked and open, but that’s not something Horacio can give you. How could he? He’s taken that weak, inferior soul within him and crushed it under concrete and plaster of paris, secured it with walls and steel and barbed wire until the protective layers become so extensive that even if someone could get through them all, why the fuck would they want to? It wouldn’t be worth the trouble.
“You know, I’ve never been here before,” you say, taking a sip of your drink, and he hums, knowing that’s how people interact but not quite knowing what is going on with him. You’re just saying things, just want him to talk back. You’re trying to have a real conversation with him, and he doesn’t understand why, but maybe for just once in his life he doesn’t need to fucking understand everything.
“Then what brings you here?” he asks, and slowly he begins to regain a little feeling inside him. Not enough that it unleashes his pain, but enough that he can feel that ice water slosh around inside him easily. A gentle flow of slush that mixes with your amber and makes him feel like a person.
“A student of mine recommended it to me,” you explain, and he’s starting to put together a little picture of who you are in his mind.
“You teach?” he asks, probing you for your life. He wants to study your mind, hear the music that leaves your mouth when you speak. You nod thoughtfully, and he can tell he’s mentioned something you enjoy. He learns that you teach at a local university and hears about just how passionate you are about what you teach. His dark eyes begin to fill with that precious light you possess as you tell him about your students and how though you’re new to Bogotá, you already love it. But that doesn’t surprise him so much; somehow he just knows that you’ve got plenty of love to go around.
“Well now you know what business I have in a grocery store at 2 am,” you conclude after you tell him about your late nights grading subpar papers, curiosity twinkling in your eyes like fairy lights in the dark. “What about you?” It isn’t until the focus is back on himself that he notes the smile that graces his features. A real smile. He smiles not out of diplomacy but because right now, he’s happy. He’s high on you and serotonin and he’d let you ruin him if you wanted to. But your question troubles him. He can’t really tell you why; he can’t bear to take his ugly, black, acrylic life and stain your lavender and daffodil backdrop. So he tells you the bare minimum: that he’s a colonel and leads a special ops unit called the Search Bloc. He leaves out the blood that paints his eyes everyday, forgets to mention the agony he’s felt and inflicted on others.
“Your drink isn’t ready yet?” you question, like a sudden realization has just hit you. Your kind features are furrowed into slight confusion, and Horacio wants to let a black sky swallow him into his own misery because he forgot to order something.
“I didn’t get anything,” he admits, face starting to glow light pink as his foolishness begins to manifest on his hardened features. You don’t look confused anymore; you’re curious again. Forever wondering about the enigma in front of you, except he’s no mystery; he’s a labyrinth. Full of questions and doubt without one single answer, and once you enter you can’t ever escape.
“Then what does a colonel do at a humble cafe?” you ask. And all of the sudden, for a man that makes a living out of repeatedly evading death, he wants to evaporate into the beige, worn tile beneath the teal cushion of his seat because the answer to that question will surely ruin the delicate, blushed bubble around the two of you. But you’ve incapacitated him with your stupid fucking pretty eyes so much so that you must be the enemy in this story. He can escape gunpoint, rouse himself from a concussion, but he hasn’t got a single clue how to regain his quick wit and pistol mind in the face of something much more sinister: a pretty girl.
“I-” he starts, but all of the sudden his throat won’t cooperate because his mind is helpless to lie to you but his body is resisting. His body rejects that frozen, dreadful state of nothing that it’s normally kept in. You’ve spread the warmth of fuzzy blankets and blissful vertigo throughout his stomach and his body wants to stay warm. “I was just…” he coughs, hard, willing his esophagus to heed his commands, “...I was watching you.” Horacio is flustered now, completely out of his element as he feels his blood seep to the topmost layers of his skin, exposing his embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” he adds almost immediately, his eyes wide as he tries to avert his flushed features from your careful gaze. “I know that’s weird. I didn’t mean to-”
“Horacio,” you interrupt. Say it again. Say my name again. “It’s okay. Actually, it’s kinda cute.” Crack. That steel fortress that he thought was so impenetrable was beginning to soften into something moldable, pliable only to your hands so you could transform him from a wall to a rose.
Horacio lets out a soft chuckle, biting his lip so hard he almost can’t feel his teeth digging into his own chapped flesh. His pink cheeks are full and for the first time in so long his eyes glimmer with life and adoration.
“I don’t want to be too forward and scare you away,” he says, a little nervous but so much more giddy, “but could I see you again?” You giggle, a beautiful melody that floods his ears and softens his brow.
“Yes, Horacio, I’d really like that,” you agree, and he can’t help but feel like he’s not in a cafe but somewhere in the cosmos as a compliant planet orbiting a bright, burning star. Somewhere far more heavenly and celestial than this godforsaken planet. He watches you glance up at the grandfather clock situated against the wall behind him and then back at him. “I need to get going, but take this.” You pull a pen out of your small bag and scribble a string of digits onto your coffee cup, holding the marked cardboard out to him. He’s slow to take it from your hands; he doesn’t want to keep you here, but at the same time he very much does. He allows himself to brush his fingers against yours again, like they had the night before, so that your potent you-flavored syrup can inject into his bloodstream and fill his capillaries.
As you stand to leave, he can tell you have one last lingering thought itching at your brow. “For the record, you couldn’t scare me away,” you assure with a smile that borders on teasing. “You’re just not scary.” And he watches you walk away, leaving him completely and utterly dumbfounded as to who you had just spoken to because it certainly wasn’t Horacio Carrillo, world class murderer and notoriously inhuman interrogator. Crack.
That next Friday, Horacio sees you again. He shakes as he knocks on your door, roses trembling in his fingers as you swing the door open. He knows the bouquet resting under his chin is pathetic, an overused display of affection, but it makes you gush as you take them from hands and bring them to your own wondrous features and let that stupid cheesy token fill your lungs with its scent.
He takes you to a restaurant like a proper gentleman, not that he gave a single shit where he was as long as it was with you. You put him far too out of his element for him to get creative with his date idea, so instead he pulls every last cliche out of the book and piles it on you. He holds the door open for you and pulls your chair out and orders wine for you because he doesn’t have a clue how to tell you that you turn him into sugar bubbles floating on warm cocoa but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try to show you.
So evening after evening he finds himself leaving work just a little earlier each day. He spends less time in poorly lit grocery stores and more time loitering at the open farmer’s market under the real sun, perusing lazily amongst the various produce and trinkets because why not? He starts wearing pink and stripes and maybe a polka-dot shirt because he starts to realize that the world has so much beauty in it and all things beautiful remind him of you. He waits a little longer to shave his face so he can hear that ethereal symphony of giggles play from your throat when he uses his scruff to scratch against your soft shoulder. You start showing up in his life in places that you don’t even exist and filling his odd corners with a pretty white glow.
He lets little things bring him joy; your tongue wetting your lips when you’re deciding where to eat for the night, your neck craning to look up at him from the couch when he walks through your door, the way the stacks of student papers that rest on your kitchen island are always different sizes. Your tongue tapping his skin when you lay a lingering kiss to his face. Your lipgloss sticking to his tricep when you don’t feel like getting up to kiss his lips, leaving a shimmer on his skin that he never wipes away. Your feather fingers sweeping his torso and turning his skin to cotton candy. The fumes of pencil lead and your perfume choking his lungs when he buries his face into your neck and breathes you in. And every fucking time you call him cute, adorable, pretty, beautiful, baby. All of those forbidden words that you dare to use in vain, courageously sacrilegious considering how he worships you, create more little cracks inside of him.
Horacio may not know how to communicate, but he knows you. He knows which compliments make you turn the reddest. He gets you your favorite artists’ CDs imported from America. He shows up at your door with your favorite pastry from your new favorite cafe. He hugs you from behind and peppers kisses down the column of your throat because it makes you giggle. He flutters his fingers where you’re ticklish until you’re so overstimulated that tears form. He cooks meals for you, insisting that all you can do to help is sit on the counter and look pretty for him. He kisses you deeply, so hard and intimate that the two of you are breathing the same air and taste the same. He does everything he can to make you smile for him because in return he gets called a “beautiful boy” and “my sweet soldier” and an “angel,” all words that send him beyond the stars and spin his head like a top until all he can think to do is giggle.
Passed weeks turn into a month, a month becomes two, and before he knows it he’s twice the man he used to be with you filling in half of him. Horacio is still, however, a man adorned with flaws. And with each moment that you occupy, he starts to really collect cracks. The powerful resolve that keeps him from ever admitting that he’s absolutely gone for you becomes compromised because you are powerful. Without even trying, your soft voice is like a wrecking ball to his defenses, breaking him down as you probe into what you call the “pretty parts” of him that he hides. But you don’t have the first clue what he’s hiding.
Horacio is not a man without emotions. He gets angry and frustrated, but those kinds of emotions sit at his surface, above his armed fortress. He can let them all out in his work through stony grimaces and raised voices and guns and fists. But he also feels sorrow, regret, shame. So much shame. These emotions are unsightly black and blue dents in the soft, fragile mush that sits at the very core of him. Under his walls are wounds still wide open and full of splinters, gushing blood and pus, septic and untreated. And they fucking hurt. So he gathers them all together along with his love, his adoration and sweetness, and ices them over, freezes them away and covers them in layer after layer of concrete until he can barely even remember that they’re there.
But he’s starting to feel again.
His fondness for you is explosive and wild, greedy for your affection. But he’s afraid. He knows you adore him, because you are brave. You can speak your feelings into existence and not feel like something inside you has fractured. But Horacio is a coward. He can’t say he loves you, he can’t love you. He knows that if he did, his filthy rotting core would be unleashed and he’d feel an agony worse than anything he’s ever subjected anyone to. But you’re leaving him full of cracks, making him weak and vulnerable in the security of your arms, and he doesn’t think you could hold all of him together if he was truly unleashed. He thinks you might realize how much of a lost cause he is and leave him on the side of the road to bleed out.
The last crack you leave in him is so small, you don’t even notice.
He sits next to you on your couch, your head tucked into his neck as a shitty telenovela radiates through the thick glass of your TV set. Neither of you say anything because you don’t need to be talking to feel comfortable with each other, so you don’t notice how he hasn’t glanced at the TV in 15 minutes. He can’t take his eyes off of you, hermosa, the puny glow of Rodrigo telling Lucia that “it’s not what it looks like” barely doing your face justice. He notices each pore on your face, the curve of your jaw and the bridge of your nose forming sweeping lines that sculpt your face, and he knows he is so utterly fucked. He knows he’s so dangerously in love with you.
He only blinks when you yawn softly, those lines contorting as you scrunch your face. He relaxes a little as you move to sit up, leaning forward to grab the remote from the coffee table and blindly turning the TV off as the preview for the next episode plays. He fills to the brim with amazement as you stretch your back, letting out a gentle squeal. Now it’s just that antique lamp on the edge of your couch illuminating the room, and it’s still not enough light. Nothing is ever bright enough when you’re there to rival it.
“It’s late, baby,” you whisper, a sleepy rasp scraping your voice a little as you look up at him with a rosy smile. You reach up to run a hand through his dark hair, taking care to let your fingers caress his scalp. “You can stay if you want,” you offer, as he’s stayed the night before. “I sleep better with you anyway.” Crack.
“Cariño,” he breathes, his features turning pained as his lip begins to quiver like never before. “Cariño I love you.”
Horacio crumbles in your hands.
Like a mound of brown sugar after it’s poured, the dome losing its form as it slowly collapses, grains dragging over each other as they sink to the bottom of the bowl and the dome is destroyed. No longer held together by tight, sticky molasses and instead a helpless, feeble puddle too broken down to be considered a shape anymore. Just a pathetic sea of lost particles, helpless in putting itself back together. He falls apart right in front of you.
He feels tears that are years old begin to flow down his cheeks, falling off his chin and onto the baby blue cloth of his too-tight shirt. He is completely unprotected, every last defense around that shapeless, dark flesh inside him falling to dust as you hold it in your kind hands. Your arms are quick to wrap around his head, bringing his face to your chest where he is safe. He’s never been more raw and vulnerable in his life, and yet he’s never felt more secure.
He bares his soul to you. He chokes on his words as he gushes his dried, brown blood onto your cotton skin and you soak up every ounce of him. He tells you he is ashamed, that he is remorseful, that he is afraid. And you listen, skin absorbing him in until you’ve got him enveloped in your big, beautiful heart. And whereas every touch used to break him down, your fingertips are now healing him, building him back up and reshaping him into something better than what he was. He can feel his scars begin to heal and the pain begin to dull as an intense awe for you overcomes him.
He knows you can’t just fix him with your fairy dust overnight. He knows he will need time to restore himself from beast to man. But fuck if he doesn’t want to do it with you, can’t do it without you.
You’ve led him towards your bed, undressing him slowly because you know that he just needs to breathe and feel the air cool his irritated skin. Once you’re both down to your underclothes, you’re careful in letting him onto the mattress. You sit down first, leaning back against the pillow, and then you sweetly tug on his arm to join you. He dives into your body head first, face nosing into your neck as his big arms wrap around your midsection. You reach for your softest blanket, enveloping the two of you in the added warm as his breaths begin to even out against your chest. He feels you wrap your arms around his head again, for the second time reminding him that he is safe.
He can feel his emotions getting the best of himself again as you whisper sweet nothings into his hair, telling him how strong and brave he is, how beautiful his soul is now that he’s really showing it to you. His muscles melt into you as you take those fragments of him and begin to piece them back together, filling the cracks you’d made with your marshmallow fluff and liquid gold.
He feels warm again as you call him your “baby,” and this time he doesn’t try to run away from it. He embraces it, leans into it. He was being protected by bones and bricks, but now it’s by honeycomb and delicate flesh. Horacio finally starts to feel like he’s beautiful because you’re letting him borrow yours. And as long as you’ll have him, he’s willing to share.
#horacio carillo x reader#narcos#maurice compte#iris writes#i didn't fuckfigfdsg put the goddamn mf italics in#i feel like i've outgrown my italics phase#god this post isn't even that old what the fuck am I talking about
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Okay drabble #2 for @lalacristina18 ‘s ask! Hope you like this one! It’s a little silly and kind of Fixer Upper Fanfiction ( @nlights37 is that a thing? I’m doing it) meets my drabble “wet paint.”
Enjoy!
haunted house | 30. “You better watch yourself”
It was the dumbest thing she had ever done.
Except she felt like she had to do it.
How else was she going to get the cute handyman to ask her out?
"Just ask him out!" her best friend shouted, as she took a crowbar to the siding on her house, prying up the nails. Missandei was used to most of her antics, but she knew this was going too far. She watched, amazed, slightly terrified, and in awe, muttering, "You have gone mental Daenerys."
Maybe she had gone mental, but she was also put off by how attractive the handyman was. He was incredibly sweet. A little goofy; he apologized one day when he showed up in thick black glasses, saying he'd forgotten to put his contacts in before he left the house. She had wondered why someone would apologize for that, but she soon learned that Jon Snow, Handyman Extraordinaire, apologized for quite a few things that were in no way his fault or under his control.
Like when he couldn't get a part in time to fix her hot water tank, because it was a weekend and the store was closed. "No problem, guess I'll see you Monday," she had simply said with a smile and a cheerful glee, because she knew they were closed on the weekend and he'd have to come back Monday.
Or when she had purposefully yanked out some sort of fuse in her car so it wouldn't start and he had apologized that it had gone missing. "Not your fault at all!" Because it's totally my fault and then she'd pretended to find the fuse on the ground. "Will this fix it?"
He frowned at the tiny piece of place and wire. "Um, aye, that's so weird..."
Today she was going to claim there was something wrong with her siding and it needed to be replaced. She dropped the crowbar, wiping sweat off her forehead, and placed her hands on her hips, glancing at Missandei, who was shaking her head side-to-side. "What?"
"Just bloody ask him out! I'll do it for you. You're destroying your house just to get him to come over." She smirked. "He has to know what you're doing. He's just taking your money and knowing you're using him which is wrong, or he's really bloody stupid and that's not great either."
"You haven't met him yet."
"What guy could be so attractive and cute and sweet and all that for you to resort to this!?" Missandei waved her hands at the splintered wood at her feet. She sighed, closing her eyes. "Dany, love, you are my best friend but..."
"Good morning!"
Dany threw the crowbar into the bushes, spinning on her heels and beaming at the man who had poked his head around the open fence to her back garden. She waved. "Hello Jon! Good morning to you!" She rounded on Missandei, who stared at him and smirked knowingly. "You're a little early."
He turned pink, coming around the corner holding onto his toolbox. "Aye, sorry about that, I thought I might get you a coffee..." he trailed off and politely smiled at Missandei. "Oh I am sorry, I would have gotten another....here, you can have mine if you want."
To her best friend's stunned silence, he removed one of the two takeout coffee cups from the tray in his other hand and passed it to her. Missandei swallowed hard, clearing her throat. "Thank you, that's...so nice of you."
He smiled again in his shy, half-smile way that Dany absolutely bloody adored, and turned his face to her. "You called last night and said that your bathroom pipes were leaking again? I don't know what is going on, I mean..." He scratched his hair, brow furrowing, and gazed up at the old-as-shit house she had purchased with intent to completely renovate. "I swear I just fixed those..."
"Oh you did, I'm sure this place is cursed."
"By a Valyrian dragon," Missandei mumbled under her breath.
Dany stepped on her foot and crossed her arms, grinning. "And would you look at this? This siding is rotten, I think we'll need to replace it."
"Um, yes of course." He knelt and picked up some of the wood, shaking his head. "You must have an angry ghost Dany, this looks like someone took a crowbar to it." He was immediately concerned, jumping to his feet. "You should file a police report, someone could be vandalizing your property!"
Missandei sipped her free coffee and mumbled again, not so quietly, "Hmm, someone with silver hair I think."
"What?" Jon asked.
"Ignore her, she's mad." She forced another smile. "It's fine. I...thank you Jon, perhaps look at those pipes first and then we can look at the siding."
"I have wood," he blurted out.
Missandei choked. Dany flushed bright red. "Oh?"
"Hmm, in the truck. Be right back." He turned on his heel and walked away. Dany elbowed her best friend, who stared now at his retreating back.
"Oh my."
"It's beautiful. I just like to look at it."
Missandei patted her arm. "Daenerys you are my best friend, but if you don't ask him out by the end of the day, I'm going to tell him everything you've been doing and only because I'm scared you might set your house on fire just to watch him come running in with the fire hose."
Dany hummed. The idea was appealing, but arson was certainly not an option.
Yet.
---
It was the end of the day; she'd tried her damndest to get him to ask her out. Missandei had left, becaus she claimed she couldn't watch it any longer, proclaiming them both "stupid idiots" and Dany had to agree. She was a stupid idiot, trying to get him to look at her as something other than the crazy lady in the haunted house. She'd worn her bikini top while gardening, she'd broken her siding, and stuffed leaves in her gutters.
And Jon Snow still didn't bloody get it.
Maybe he was stupid, she thought, and watched him bent over some exposed pipes in the hallway leading to the master bedroom. A himbo or something. Except she knew he wasn't, because she'd seen that he had a stack of books in his truck to return to the library, one of which happened to be her brother's boring ass tome on Targaryen History, and he'd eagerly chatted with her about it.
"So why are you a contractor?" she asked. She kept referring to him as a handyman, but reminded herself he was more than that. He ran his own business and lumber yard up in Winterfell. "Do you just like fixing things?"
He shrugged, reaching his arm down into the pipes. "I do like fixing things, but when I got out of the military, nothing really appealed to me. Didn't want a boss again and I like building things. Working on my own terms."
"I like that too." It was why she moved up North, a freelance journalist, and needing a safe quiet space to recharge and focus between assignments. She got up and cleared her throat. "I'll be downstairs if you need me." She was halfway down the stairs when she heard a strange sound. It was a yowl.
It sounded like Drogon, she thought, turning towards the wall. "Drogon?" she called.
He meowed again, pitiful. She moved closer towards the wall and knocked. Her voice trembled, calling once more. "Drogon?"
A light scratching and more yowling.
She screamed, realizing with horror that Drogon was inside the bloody wall. "DROGON!" She banged on the wall, running up the stairs, crying out. "Jon! Drogon's in the wall!"
"What?"
"I think he must have crawled in when we were talking and not looking, oh my gods, Drogon!"
Jon frowned at her, still not moving. He narrowed his eyes. "Drogon's in the wall, huh?"
"I think so."
He cocked his head and got to his feet, sighing hard. "Dany, I...I think I know what's going on and..." He turned bright pink. "I really have to confess something..." He shifted on his feet and blurted out, really fast, his Northern burr thick. "I...I know that not everything here is breaking and...and I'm fixing it and stuff, but...well...the store was open and I didn't get hte part because I wanted to come see you and...and I may not have cleaned the gutters all the way so I could come back and...oh gods, I haven't charged you at all because I'm just...I like you!"
Her eyes widened, too terrified for her cat to process what he'd just admitted to her. "But...I...I'm sorry, but he's really in the wall! Listen!"
They both were quiet and after a second, heard the pathetic howling of a trapped cat.
Jon moaned, mortified, shoving his face into his palms. "Oh my gods! I'm so sorry! I thought...oh fuck, forget what I said!"
"No I can't forget it because I like you too!" They could have this conversation after they saved her damn cat.
It took awhile, of her trying to coax the damn cat out from the opening in the floor, to Jon carefully searching and finding a space in the wall to knock through with a sledgehammer so he wouldn't hit Drogon or anything unsafe. Bits of drywall and debris scattered, "You better watch yourself," she warned him, when Drogon began to hiss and pant, terrified as they drew closer to him. "He might attack!"
"He's just scared, he'll be alright."
A couple hours later, her entire hallway and stairwell covered in broken bits of drywall, plaster, wood, and insulation, her very dirty and ashy cat enveloped in a blanket in her arms, Dany finally looked up at JOn. He hadn't said a word to her about his confession of not really fixing anything because he liked her and wanted ot keep seeing her.
She ducked her head, whispering, "I know it was wrong of me too, to keep breaking things...I just really liked you too."
"I'm not good with women," he admitted.
"Clearly, I was walking around in my bikini and you didnt say a word."
"I was trying to be professional!"
She giggled. Drogon whined in her arms. She scowled. "Hey! You didn't think I was serious that my cat got stuck in the wall!"
"I thought it was another thing like when you called me to say that your pipes were clogged at ten at night." He arched his brows. "Come on Dany."
"Alright, that was a ruse...but he really did get stuck!" She let go of Drogon, who raced into her bedroom to hide under the bed and lick his wounds-- more like his pride at having to be rescued by humans of all things. She looked up at Jon, sitting on the step just above her and grinned. "Can we agree to just...kind of start over?"
he nodded and licked his lips; she shivered. "Start over at dinner tonight?"
"Yes, dinner is perfect."
"And I'll be the first thing in the morning to start working on..." he gazed around at the chaos surrounding them, sighing. "This."
"Sounds good."
Turned out he didn't have to show up early at all the next morning, because he was already there, fast asleep in her bed, both of them exhausted. Dinner had been merely an afterthought.
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A few more gay-wakening quotes + a few ikesoren quotes for you raccoons (Ily u guys thank u for the support-)
Lon'qu: Hey dad- wait- I mean-
Basilio: No, no, no.
Basilio: No take backs.
Maribelle: Brady’s anger management classes are a fucking scam, mf told him to hit Owain with a brick yesterday!
Frederick: It’s called Reverse Psychology, Maribelle…
Maribelle: Reverse? Bitch this isn’t UNO!
Ricken: Can we please stay in your tent?
Robin: Why?
Ricken: We played with a Ouija board and cursed mine....
Ricken: And Henry isn’t much help. He doesn’t know how to banish spirits so he just throws salt at them and yells “does this look like a hotel to you?!”
Vaike: Beauty and the Beast, but reversed. I kiss the girl and she turns into a monster and it’s awesome
Sully: Shrek.
Vaike:
Vaike: This post is canceled
Sumia: Coward
Lissa, pretending a hairbrush is a microphone: And now for a gay update with Henry. How's it going?
Henry, starring at Ricken: Getting gayer.
Lissa: Thank you, Henry.
Donnel: Do you ever feel bugs on you when there aren't any?
Sully: Those are the ghosts of all the bugs you've killed.
Donnel:
Stahl: Look what you did, you scared him!
Robin: You're the love of my life and my best friend, I would do anything for you.
Chron: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a healthy sleep schedule.
Robin: Absolutely not.
Brady: Ok guys shut up *Answers phone* Hey, mom.
Owain: miSsEs MaRiBeLlE tEll yOuR sOn tO coMe bAcK tO bEd
Inigo: *Sex noises*
Owain: BABE, WE CANT HAVE A THREESOME WITHOUT YOU!
Cynthia: Tell her i say hiii!!!
Severa: pAss the wEeEEeEeeEeEeeeE-
Ike, peaking under the bed: Soren, are you ready to come out and interact with people?
Soren: *Demonic screeching*
Ike: Understandable, have a good day
Stahl: Why is there blood everywhere!??
Lon'qu: I may have aggressivelly poked someone with my blade.
Stahl: yoU STABBED SOMEONE!?!?
Lon'qu: No no, aggressively poked them with my blade..
Robin: Chrom. Is that your hand on my ass?
Chrom: Oops. My bad. It was an accident.
Robin: Your hand is still on my ass.
Chrom: Still an accident.
Doctor: Mr? Your boyfriend's awake.
Ike: Really? How is he? Has he said anything-
Doctor: Yes, he said "Tell the priest to fuck off, I'm not dead yet."
Soren, hoarse: I lost my voice.
Ike: Well, that’s good. that means you can’t insult kings yell at me anymore!
*The next day*
Ike: So apparently, Soren's scarier when he’s quiet.
Ike: *Being Ike*
Soren: You better shut the fuck up before I look at you one day, feel warm and realize I've fallen in love with you.
Ike: Wait wh-
Soren: I'm serious, quit it! FUCK!
Ricken: Olivia, can I talk to you for a second?
Olivia: Yeah, what’s up-? Lemme guess. You have a crush on Henry and you want me to teach you how to kiss?
Ricken: What? No, stop that. I know how to kiss. I’ve read books.
Ricken: What time is it?
Henry: I don’t know; pass me that saxophone and we’ll find out
Henry: *Plays sax loudly and extremely out of tune*
Lon'qu: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXOPHONE AT TWO IN THE MORNING
Henry: It’s 2 am
Some dude: We have your son.
Basilio: I don't have a so-
Basilio: Oh wait. You have Lon'qu. Lmao good luck with that.
Five minutes later: PLEASE TAKE HIM BACK-
` I'm bed, bath and beyond disappointed in you. ` Gaius, after Laurent pulled another all-nighter
#fire emblem#fire emblem awakening#incorrect quotes#ikesoren#lon is totally basilios son shhh#chrobin#lonhl#henricken#gaius!laurent#il the future kids#lonqu yes
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Embers & Light (Chapter 9, Cassian POV)
Notes: I had a lovely anon this morning ask for a POV from Cassian’s POV in E&L when he rubbed salve onto Nesta’s back. So, here you go, folks. As usual, apologies for any typos etc etc.
And for those needing a reminder of what happened in chapter 9, you can read it here.
Waiting outside of Nesta’s bedroom door was torture. Not just because Cassian would soon be touching Nesta’s bare skin, but because he knew she was trying to relinquish control by making him wait. And Cassian had been waiting for a long time now. Much longer than was necessary for Nesta to remove her nightgown and wrap herself in a towel.
Cassian bit back the snarl that wanted to emit itself from his throat, because rising to the deliberate wait would give Nesta too much satisfaction. And this was the game they played; continually trying to get one up on the other, riling and prodding and poking until they hissed and snarled and flames sparked between them.
So, Cassian waited patiently. He scented the chamomile salve wafting under the door and—Nesta. More intense than before. Jasmine and vanilla and her. Intoxicating and fiery and steely at the same time, as if she were forged from something entirely different from anyone else in the world.
It was addictive and exhilarating. It woke Cassian up, as if he had only been slumbering before. Nearly five hundred and fifty years of floating through life until Nesta Archeron came along and disrupted the course of things, like a knife thrust through the heart.
Footsteps sounded across the carpet and Cassian straightened, before he decided that a relaxed posture against the doorframe would irritate her more. He only just had time to arrange his expression into one of bored disinterest before the door opened.
Cassian cocked a lazy eyebrow as if to ask what took so long, but Nesta only turned immediately on her heel. He trailed after her into the cold room, trying not to stare at the creamy expanse of her back that peaked beneath her loose golden brown hair—the wings of her shoulder blades and the three freckles which dotted down the far too prominent nodules of her spine where they met her neck.
When Nesta turned back to face him, her pewter eyes were brimming with challenge, daring Cassian to comment on her lack of clothing. But he only twirled a finger—a silent order.
For a moment, Cassian thought she’d deny him, but then she obeyed—for once.
“All over?” he asked, making his voice deliberately practical rather than playful.
Slowly, Nesta dipped her chin. A long pause followed, as if she had forgotten that she had to relinquish the towel. But Cassian did not taunt her. Remained silent and patient, until she seemed to realise it for herself.
When she pulled the towel around to her front, that scent intensified. And when Nesta pulled her hair around her shoulder to expose her neck, Cassian’s nostrils flared.
Fucking hell, sometimes Cassian wondered how he controlled himself around her. Even his blood thrummed beneath his skin, pushing towards her, to the name that beat and chanted on the wind and in the back of his mind, always: Nesta, Nesta, Nesta.
His eyes snagged on that column of skin, and the temptation to bow his head and sink his teeth into her flesh was suddenly so overwhelming that Cassian almost took a step backwards.
But then a glimmer of apprehension fluttered down the bond and that urge vanished, as if it had never existed at all.
“Let me,” Cassian murmured, stepping towards Nesta so he could help to move the remaining tendrils of hair that tumbled down her back over her shoulder.
He ignored the electric sparks that shot through him as he swept his calloused fingers over her bare skin. And when that unblemished skin pebbled under his touch, Cassian realised just how freezing the room was—he wouldn’t have been surprised if his breath misted in front of him.
“Sorry,” he said softly. “I'll be quick, I know it's cold.”
“Just get it over with,” Nesta replied. Beneath his hands, her body was ramrod straight—so preternaturally still it was unnatural even to Fae.
So, Cassian tried his best to set Nesta at ease as he rubbed the salve between his palms, warming it before he dared touch it to her skin. “This stuff is good,” he said conversationally. “I use it a lot. I know humans usually have the worst muscle pain on their second and third day, but Fae bodies recover more quickly. You’ll be sore tomorrow, but it shouldn't last much longer than that.”
Beneath his hands, he felt every inch of her skeleton. Nesta’s body was so thin it felt as if her skin was like paper—as if the bone might pierce through if his touch was too firm.
The knowledge made his stomach clench so fiercely he wanted to smash his fist into the wall. He had let this happen. He had let—
“Good,” Nesta clipped in response, but the sound was coarse, pushed through gritted teeth as his hands skated over what he had guessed earlier to be a sore spot between her shoulder blades.
“You need to start eating right, too,” Cassian dared to say, as his hands traversed down her lower back. He wasn’t sure where the confidence came to comment on her weight, not after she had spat at him when he had pleaded for her to eat at breakfast the other day. “And lots to gain back the weight. I can tell—”
Hot, sharp anger stabbed through him so fiercely that suddenly Cassian couldn’t breathe. Because across the lower curve of Nesta’s back was four silvery scars—claw marks made by ragged nails that raked their way underneath the nightgown pooled at her hips.
The air between them shuddered.
Free of siphons, Cassian’s Killing Power was untamed and unchecked. And that trembling… that was what happened when Cassian was furious enough for his magic to tumble out of him before he could stifle it.
He could not remember the last time it had happened. Not for four hundred years, at least.
“How old is that scar?”
His words were low and fucking dangerous, he knew that. His hands had stilled on her skin, but as he spoke, his left hand moved on instinct rather than logic.
Nesta stilled when he brushed his fingers over what must have been deep gauges. Gently, he traced the path of each cruel line—
“What scar?”
Cassian paused at the thick quality to Nesta’s voice, as if she had wrangled the words out of her throat lest they become lodged there.
That fury spiked again and the windows rattled. “Nesta, is that scar new or is it from that human?”
The way he spoke was too forceful and too commanding. He knew that before the mist started to spark from her fingertips. Before his magic began to roar in his veins at the sight of her power.
The way in which Nesta whirled on the spot was so fast that Cassian thought he’d blinked and missed it. “You said you would do this quickly.”
Despite the hiss, Nesta could not conceal the vulnerability that flickered in her eyes. It was that rare glimpse into that normally closed off tunnel that allowed Cassian’s roiling anger to still for long enough for rationality to kick in.
Slowly, Cassian loosed a long breath and dragged the back of his hand over his forehead in an attempt to smooth away his twisted expression. “I’m sorry Nesta, ok? Just… let me do this. Turn around.”
Those mercury eyes stared him down but Cassian did not balk. Instead, he scoured that beautiful, steely face. Never had Cassian witnessed Nesta smile, but even without it she was perfection. The Cauldron could not have Made someone more stunning and deadly. Even as a human, Nesta had been more breathtaking than any Fae Cassian had ever set his eyes on—would ever set his eyes on.
Nesta must have found something in Cassian’s expression, because slowly—with a final, deathly glare—she turned her back to him.
It was a sign of trust and one Cassian did not take lightly.
Scooping up some more salve, Cassian silently continued his task, gliding his hands over those taut, sore muscles. When he reached those scars again, his hands ghosted over them in a way that was too tender. The skin was ridged and Cassian dared to run a a calloused thumb over the raised bumps.
To his surprise, Nesta did not bat him away or set him alight.
“I’ll kill him for you, if that’s what you want,” he murmured darkly.
That haughty chin tilted upwards. “Why should I let you? It would take the joy out of knowing I can do it myself whenever the mood strikes.”
A low laugh skittered out of him. “Whilst that is a good point, the offer still stands. Or perhaps I can come with you, when you do decide to pay him a visit."
Screwing the lid back on the salve, Cassian placed it on the dresser, averting his eyes as Nesta quickly pulled her nightgown back up. Her skin was covered in goosebumps from being exposed to the cold air, and Cassian glanced towards the open, unlit hearth stacked neatly with pine logs. “I’ll get a log burner installed for your room this week.”
Nesta’s head snapped to look at him. She had been staring longingly at the heaps of blanket on her bed.
It was obvious she was desperate for him to leave.
“I —“ she started, but then she broke off. For a moment, silence fell, and Cassian knew she did not know how to concede—to say thank you.
So, he shot her a crooked grin and said, “I’ll see you bright and early for round two. Don’t be late.”
Tags: @arinbelle @superspiritfestival @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @mylittlebigplanet @biggestwingspan-az @bellsqueen @ekaterinakostrova @bookstantrash @prophecyerised @rainbowcheetah512 @awesomelena555 @wannawriteyouabook @iammissstark @lovelynesta @melphss @nestalytical @darkshadowqueensrule @laylaameer01 @a-trifling-matter @grouchycritic7794 @thalia-2-rose @champanheandluxxury @swankii-art-teacher @princessconsuela02 @lavendergoomsltd @little-diyosa @princessofmerchants-reads @jeakat @sjm-things @imwritingthesewords @nestable @inejbrekkxr @silvernesta @inyourmindeye @amelie775 @iwastoowildinthe70s @helen-the-weirdo @pizzaneverdisappoints @wishfulimaginings @trash-for-nessian @my-fan-side @sophilightwood @hatemecozuaintme
#embersandlightfic#acotarfanfiction#nessianfic#nessian#nesta x cassian#nestaarcheron#cassian#acosf#acofas#acomaf#acowar
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Defiance
Summary: When your brothers went off to war, you couldn’t just sit and wait for them: you had to work, so as nurse Shelby, you started nursing in London
(Gif by @nofckingfighting)
A/N: Anon requested: Hello, I saw that you write Shelby sister imagines? Is it ok for you to do me one please? I always imagine her being the same age as John and very close to Tommy. I was thinking along the lines of when the boys go to war she goes to a hospital in London dealing with soliders who need rehabilitation and help with PTSD. She doesn't come home until a year after the boys? Here's they are in trouble with Campbell and Billy Kimber Obviously take it wherever you like to I'm happy for whatever x
I’m making this a two-part story, to be able to combine two different requests that had a lot of similarities. I’m using your request for the first part, and let me just say, this is such a beautiful idea that it deserves to be a film on its own. Hope I did it justice! :) Part 2 is Acceptance
Warning: mentions of death, war and suicide.
Words: 3107
***
“I will not,” defiantly you stood in front of your superior, arms crossed in front of you and a rebellious scowl on your face.
“Excuse me?” the head nurse turned around to face you, “This again, nurse Shelby?”
For a moment, you faltered. Going against a senior nurse was something that wasn’t tolerated, at all. And with good reason! The hospital wouldn’t be able to function properly. During the war, it’d been constant chaos, with men coming in and going out constantly. Dying was often a blessing, and there had been so much, so much death. But the war was over and still the men kept on coming.
“I’m not trying to rebel, nurse Miller,” you said, more meekly this time, “I just don’t see how this is going to help any of them.”
“Doctor says it works,” nurse Miller replied matter-of-factly.
“But does it?” some fire was coming back into you, “They are able to talk and walk again, sure, but that’s not the same as recovery, is it? The problem is not of a physical nature, it’s a mental struggle these men face.”
The head nurse looked up from her work and turned fully towards you now, “Remember your place, nurse Shelby. Do as you’re told. Go on, off with you.”
“What research has really been done concerning these…” you waved your hand in an annoyed manner, “methodsthat the doctors employ these days!”
Thoroughly irritated now, nurse Miller dropped her work and one look told you all you needed to know: you were in trouble. Again.
And so you were back to scrubbing bedpans yet again. All nurses were required to do this work and the long days without much sleep had hardened you all to the blood and filth. Still, some nurses were given this job more than others. Especially the nurses who couldn’t control their mouths around their superiors. Silently, you cursed your Shelby spirit.
But then your mind drifted off to the subject you had been discussing with nurse Miller and your blood began to boil again. ‘The soldier’s heart’, that’s what they used to called it. These were the men who could never sit still, felt anxious all the time and were constantly on edge. It had been considered a ‘normal’ condition for decennia, but it had taken on the form of an epidemic after the Great War. Brave men could no longer function and the severe psychological trauma haunted most of them still, even though the war had been over for several months now! ‘Shell-shock’ was now the popular term and doctors everywhere tried to fix the physical symptoms of the condition. You simply couldn’t fathom how none of them seemed to acknowledge that these were just symptoms: the real problem had taken root in the brain or the heart, maybe even in the soul.
“What did you do this time?” Daisy, or nurse Wells as was the proper term, asked you, when she saw you sitting on your knees in front of piles and piles of bedpans.
You looked up and grinned sheepishly, “I disagreed with nurse Miller.”
“Again.”
“Again,” you admitted contritely.
Daisy put down the towels she had taken in for washing, “If you’re going to disagree with anyone, choose someone less uptight! Might save your knees.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. Daisy was the perfect nurse: she could function on two hours of sleep a night, see the most horrific stuff and still work on tirelessly, while aiming to make the others smile. Where you’d be without Daisy you didn’t even dare think about.
“Alright,” she sighed good-naturedly, “Tell me. What did you argue this time? And tell me you’re sorry afterwards, just to practise!”
Full of anger, you threw down the brush, “Electro-shock therapy doesn’t fucking help anyone! These men went to hell and back and now their brains are protesting against all the horrors they witnessed. Their minds are revolting, as they should be! The only thing ever accomplished by shocking the men into talking again or walking again is that you’ve taken away their last manner of protesting against inhumane practises. Bravo! You’ve made them into full human bombshells now, without a peep of opposition. How in the fuck is that even medically sound!?”
Daisy waited a moment, “So you’re not actually sorry.”
“Fuck, no.”
She looked around the door for a second and then whispered, “Fuck.”
Your head shot up and you grinned broadly, “Nurse Wells, what did you just say?”
“I suddenly felt brave,” she shrugged a little, “thought I might be brave enough to say the F-word, with just you here to hear me.”
Full of theatrics you stood up and offered her your hand, “I congratulate you earnestly. You have now crossed a line. Welcome to the fucking party!”
Beaming, Daisy tried to scold, “You’re a bad influence on me.”
“You should see the rest of the Shelby clan,” and a sudden pang went through you the very moment you had spoken the words.
Your friend noticed at once, “Y/N, when are you going back?”
“Can’t abandon the men now,” you said briskly, leaving very little room for discussion.
Daisy hesitated and finally asked, “They did all come back from France, didn’t they?”
“Yes.”
“When did you hear?”
Scrubbing again, you replied, “I never heard, but I’d know if something had happened to them.”
Daisy nodded: she knew you well enough to know your instincts never failed you, even if it got you in trouble. A lot.
***
You were lying in bed and even though the shifts weren’t as long as they’d been during the war, sleep was still scarce. Many of you got five to six hours of sleep now, which had been unimaginable during the war! Still, exhaustion wasn’t unfamiliar to any of you and when the nurses hit their pillows, they often slept at once. Still, you were wide-awake at this very moment.
When the war started, it didn’t take long for the boys to sign up. Your brothers went, full of energy and bravery and all women were left grieving at home. Ada kept her mind off it, something you were never good at. You couldn’t bear the thought of all these men dying out at the front, and for what? No one seemed to know. But aunt Polly had really send you over the edge. Every morning she got up to pray and at first you had joined her, but unrest had grown inside of you and praying simply wasn’t enough anymore. So, just like your brothers, you had decided and left for training in London. There was no arguing with you and no one tried.
But nothing could’ve prepared you for the things you’d seen during your time here as a nurse. The broken men, shattered limbs, blood and gore and death were easy enough to get used to. That thought alone made you frown in confusion: what has become of us, that we think that’s the easy part? But the endless streams of young men, hopeful men once, now broken and shattered like the fields of France themselves, that was the hard part. You fed them, nursed them, mended them, talked to them and held their hand if they went. And each and every face changed the moment just before they died: they were all one of your brothers.
They were still alive. Aunt Polly had the gift of second sight and even though you weren’t sure what to believe, you had some of it too. Either way, you would’ve known if they were dead. But what were they like now? Because that was the real reason you daren’t go back to Small Heath. What is they were like some of these men, like ghosts trapped in the body of a once healthy human being? You wouldn’t be able to cope.
People always said that twins have a certain connection. You and John had never noticed anything of a special connection, apart from a certain gift for squabbling. But once he was at the front, when the bombs started falling, you could hear his screams in your mind. That’s when the connection had suddenly kicked in and it kept you up and made you tear your hair out for fear. God was cruel like that.
“Are you a Shelby or not?” you suddenly whispered strictly to yourself. “Who is this, cowering away in London and fearing what she might see at home? Be a grownup and fucking face your family!” But something just stopped you.
***
For the next couple of weeks, you tried to get back into the swing of things. You worked harder than ever, with your exhaustion as a form of atonement. Daisy was worried and even nurse Miller told you to slow down at some point.
And then you sat next to a bed of a dying soldier. Your shift had finished already, but still you’d refused to leave him. And why? Because he reminded you of Arthur.
“Nurse?” he asked feebly.
You shook your head to get rid of the thoughts roaming about, “I’m here,” you comforted him.
“I can’t see,” he said, “Is that normal?��
You took his hand, “I’m right here. Can you feel my hand?”
He grabbed it a little tighter, “Yes. You have soft hands.”
You smiled warmly at him.
He asked again, “Nurse?”
“Yes.”
“When I get better,” he tried to sit up a little, “Can I maybe take you out some time?”
He sure as hell wasn’t the first one to ask, so his request didn’t embarrass or shock you in the slightest. You tried to put on a chipper voice, imitating Daisy, “I don’t know. It depends, I suppose: where would we go?”
The wounded soldier smiled, “I can take you to the movies. That’s what the Americans call it, did you know? The movies…”
You couldn’t help but smile, “Which film would we go to?”
“I’ll take you to that new romantic film, the one with that famous American actor.”
“You quite like the Americans, don’t you?” you joked.
He smiled again, suddenly revealing how handsome he actually was, “Americans, they have a way with women.”
“So do you!”
“Does that mean you’ll go with me?”
“When you get better, we’ll go to the movies,” you confirmed.
But he didn’t get better. The next day, he was back to his ailing and screaming. The trouble with his mind was that sometimes the fragments seemed to recompose again and he was as sane as any man, but at other times, the war bombed his soul. His physical injuries were extensive and his chances of survival were slim. Still, the doctor was adamant on trying shock therapy on him, thinking it might help with both his physical and psychological ailments. You didn’t agree, but kept your mouth shut for once. Still, you screamed into your pillow the next night, feeling so fucking helpless at the sight of pointless suffering.
The next morning, nurse Miller send you over to that soldier once again to change his bandages. All light had left his eyes.
Practically inaudibly, he said, “Nurse?”
“I’m here,” you took his hand again in yours.
“Would you’ve done it? Would you’ve allowed me to take you out?”
“Of course!” you exclaimed, “Not every day a handsome young man asks a girl like me out!”
He paused for a moment, “Honestly?”
“Honestly,” you said.
Suddenly, he relaxed and fell back into the cushions. You frowned a little though, slightly worried about why he was no longer sure of his recovery. But there was more work to be done and you had to be on your way again.
When nurse Miller told you he’d gotten hold of a razor somehow and killed himself in the night, something inside you shattered. That was it. You were done.
***
On the train to Birmingham, you couldn’t help but think about how much you’d changed. Once a Small Heath gypsy, being on edge about not being useful enough, you’d left full of innocence. Well, maybe not innocent, you were a Shelby after all. But you’d grown up being protected by young brothers, fighting them and others constantly, and still you considered your childhood a happy one. The amount of times you’d screamed at them, “I’m not a child anymore!” was insane, but only now you felt like that sentence was justified. The war had changed you too.
Quickly, you’d send Aunt Polly a telegram before departing London. It said: ‘I’m coming home. Still alive. Make sure the boys save me some whiskey.’ She wouldn’t be pleased with a message like that, but you couldn’t wait to deal with the consequences again.
Stepping off the train and back onto familiar ground felt like entering a dream. Oh, how you had missed the stench and noise! Without a thought, you took off your shoes and walked barefoot through the muddy streets. Watch out, Birmingham, you thought cheekily, the pauper princess is back!
All nerve left you as soon as it’d come when you stood in front of your house at Watery Lane. And while you were still plucking up the courage to open the door, it swung wide open and nearly hit you square in the nose. A flash of green came rushing out and two arms squeezed the life out of you.
“Where the hell have you been?” they demanded.
Softly, you breathed in the smell of her perfume, “Fucking working, Ada, unlike you.”
“Aunt Pol is going after you with the wooden spoon and I won’t lift a finger to save you,” she scolded, without letting go.
You rolled your eyes into your sister’s hair. And then you suddenly noticed, “Looks like you’ve been busy as well!”
Ada stepped back and looked down, “Seven months. Can’t even see my toes anymore, I’ve gotten so fat.”
“Not much to look at anyways,” you commented.
Ada slapped your shoulder and you winced. At least nothing had changed between you two.
With Aunt Polly it was an entirely different story. As soon as you walked into the house, she froze and fixed you with one of her stares that could make empires crumble. You could feel your shoulders slumping, your heart racing and you held your breath. Nothing had changed there either: it was like you were eight years old again.
Slowly, she walked over to you and took a long hard look at you, never releasing eye contact. Then she grabbed your face and you almost winced, but instead she said, “You need to eat. Sit.”
Not hesitating, you obeyed at once.
Without a word, she threw your telegram on the table.
The silence was filled with anxiety-fuelled electricity and she let you calmly simmer in it for a few more moments. Then she spoke, “You have ten seconds to explain, before I slap you back to London myself.”
So you took a big gulp of breath and explained, “I got into another fight with the head nurse and then everything went to shit and I didn’t know what to do, because I felt guilty, because he died and I fucking cannot with those doctors, because I knew work would be hard and I signed up for it, but all of a sudden I was just done, and I wanted to come back sooner, but I was scared Tommy and Arthur were dead and that John was, well I wanted to come sooner but didn’t know how to come back, and also I was you know scared that you might not take it well, and how I left, and yeah well, I was afraid this was going to happen…”
“Leave her be,” Ada said to your aunt, “She’s worn out.”
“It’s been eight months since the war ended,” Aunt Polly said, her face still not betraying any emotion, “We thought you were gone.”
“I’m okay, Pol,” you said carefully.
“How the fuck were we supposed to know?” She burst out, “No note, no letter, nothing. And now you think you can just show up, like the queen of fucking Birmingham, after writing some shitty telegram that made me drop my favourite teacup?”
“Oh no, the blue one?” you asked.
Ada glared at you, her eyes saying: not the right fucking response right now.
So you cast your eyes downwards, “I’m sorry, Pol. The work, it just drags you in. I kept on seeing their faces in all the wounded soldiers I took care of. It was the only way I could cope.”
Aunt Polly’s face softened a little, “It’s the waiting. The waiting almost killed the women.”
Images of wartime nightmares flashed in front of your eyes. Waiting was the thing you were terrible at, as it turned out. It ate you up inside, and now you’d done it to them. Finally, Aunt Polly’s reaction made sense.
“Forgive me,” you pleaded.
Your aunt walked over to the table and sat down next to you. She took your hand in hers and a wave of reassurance washed over you, “You’re like a working horse. They go crazy when they rest. You leaving shouldn’t have come as a surprise to us. It’s good to have you back. Welcome home, Y/N.”
No longer able to contain yourself, you flung yourself forwards and hugged your aunt. Tears fell from your eyes and finally, ease came over you.
Then you heard voices from the other room. Arthur’s voice first, loud and angry. He hadn’t changed much either then, perhaps a little angrier than before. Then Tommy’s reply, cold and business-like. He sounded like dad now. Finally your twin: John laughing like he was still playing in the gutter. For a few minutes, you didn’t move. You just listened to them and revelled in their sounds. These were the sounds of brothers, still alive, and you couldn’t be happier about it.
“Billy Kimber has a bloody army!” Arthur shouted.
You looked towards Ada for some kind of explanation, but she just rolled her eyes. Aunt Polly sat back and lit a cigarette. The fact that she gave that one to you, before lighting another for herself, showed she now thought of you as an adult as well. The moment was brief, but so intimate.
With a bang, the door slammed open en Arthur came storming in. Tommy was sighing deeply and still cursing right behind him, and through the open door you could see John. They all froze when they saw you, all at the same time, jaws practically hitting the floor.
“Billy Kimber, eh?” you merely said, “Looks like I showed up just in time.”
***
Masterlist
#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinder imagine#peaky blinders#shelby sister#sister shelby#shelby!sister#sister!shelby#Shelby!sis#tommy shelby#thomas shelby#arthur shelby#john shelby#ada shelby#ada thorne#polly gray#polly shelby#peaky blinders headcanon#peaky blinders fanfic#peakyblindersedit#tommy shelby x reader#john shelby x reader#arthur shelby x reader#the shelby clan#defiance#WW1
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