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lovelybarnes · 3 years

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get the girl- p. parker

pairings: peter parker x reader, mentions of ned, betty, mj, and brad warnings: unrequited love (kind of?? implied), lotsss of pining and fluff, a little long about: requested! (DF4) “you fell asleep, i couldn’t move.“ + (DF31) “maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance.” a/n: been wanting to write a peter parker friends to lovers for a while, so thank you so so much for requesting this. i swear i don’t usually take this long?? i got carried away and it got way longer than i expected, i hope you enjoy! thank you for requesting!

peter thinks it’s hopeless. the cliche he’s stuck in seems cruel- no matter what the movies you (and, fine, yes, him sometimes) make him watch say. nothing that happens in them ever transpires to real life; beautiful girls don’t fall in love with their nerdy best friends and guys like peter parker don’t get the girl.

it’s fun to fantasize, though. and especially fun to look at you, particularly when you’re laying on his bed, oblivious to him standing in the doorway, observing as you twist your neck to get a good look at the polaroids he hung up on his wall. a familiar smile grows on your face when your eyes scan them, flickering to the polaroid camera you got him for christmas years ago.

you move to try to get a better look at them without standing up, glancing down when you feel a sharp edge poke at your skin. he watches as your eyebrows furrow in possibly the prettiest way possible and you pull out a polaroid from under you. and oh, peter is just now realizing exactly what that photo is and why it’s on his bed instead of hanging off the empty miniature clothespin that comes from the pack you thrust at his chest when you noticed the increasing pile of pictures on his desk.

he’s moving on autopilot towards you, the foot already halfway through the door used as a stepping stone to go to your side faster. he’s with you in less than three steps, tugging on your ankle and then tackling you as sensibly as possible, laying his whole body on yours. you oof, dropping the picture, having seen it for too little to really question it, and laugh breathlessly. “pete!” you wheeze, curling your arms around his back, one of your hands absentmindedly drawing figures through his hoodie and your other one inching up to his hair, already beginning to thread through the chocolate curls. “yes?” he hums innocently, furtively grabbing the polaroid you dropped and shoving it in the pocket of his hoodie before his arms wrap around your thighs.

“i told you if you keep doing that, one day you’re gonna get hurt,” you scold, looking attentively as peter leans his head against your chest. “me?” he questions, feeling you nod under his cheek. “uh huh, you. you’ll hit your head or something. for a spider-”

“spiderman. superhero,” peter corrects, you ignore him, “you are really clumsy.” peter huffs in dissent, letting a comfortable silence blanket over the both of you for a minute before he looks up at you. “what?” you ask, a smile brimming at the edges of your words. you’re so pretty, peter wants to say, but instead, he goes with a more best-friend-friendly question, “d’you wanna watch a movie?”

you nod at him, pulling your hands away from his head to play with the strings of his hoodie, “sure, what do we want to watch today?” peter’s eyes immediately light up, and you realize you never actually needed to ask. “fine,” you agree, trying not to grin too hard at the way his face brightens. “which one?” you request, watching his freckled cheeks flush pink in excitement, “sixth one. the best one, of course.” you smirk, shrugging, “right, don’t know why i asked, i basically know the movie word for word now.” peter can’t help but give you heart eyes at the knowledge of your knowing the script of his favorite movie. god, you really were the dream girl.

“‘kay, go make some popcorn and get everything ready while i go to the bathroom,” you request, tapping peter’s shoulder as a way to tell peter to let you out from under his body weight. he does the complete opposite of what you imply, however, nuzzling further into your chest and inhaling deeply. “peter,” you laugh, poking his shoulder again, “‘m comfy,” he mumbles, eyes closed. “pete, c’mon, i gotta pee and you’re lying on my bladder,” you whine, “also, don’t you wanna watch episode six of star wars while i eat popcorn and play with your hair?” you singsong. he’s suddenly moving his body off of yours to let you go, although not before pressing a sloppy- friendly- kiss to your arm, “hurry up.”

you giggle as you stand, stretching out your limbs and walking to the bathroom while peter watches you walk away. once he hears the bathroom door shut, he digs his hands into his pockets, fingers tugging on the polaroid he had shoved inside. a smile grows on his face without his permission when he holds it at his stomach, the light reflecting off of the smile that was printed on the picture. he traces a nail over your face, bright and open in the way that makes you gleam. it’s his favorite picture ever, the only one that managed to catch you so in your element, your natural halo of glow apparent in your outline. peter had scrawled the words best girl in red marker on the white space at the bottom- something he thought he could explain away easily if he had to. the picture had its own designated space on his wall, right in the middle so the importance was clear, but it was rarely actually up there, instead always next to him for inspiration when he was doing homework and on his dresser for when he couldn't sleep.

his lips quirk one last time at the photograph before walking to the wall where all the rest of them reside. he hangs it up, glancing at it once more until he turns to walk out of his room.

the movie is ready to play when you walk into the living room, and peter is in the kitchen making your popcorn. “it smells good,” you say in a greeting, sniffing the air and exhaling in satisfaction. peter laughs, “you do that every time we have a movie night.” you tilt your head at him, “do what?” he motions to you, “that. the whole smelling thing and letting me know how good it smells, it’s cute.”

your face heats when it slips out of his lips, pausing to absorb the words he doesn’t seem to have noticed he said. his back is to you, dumping the popcorn into a bowl for you. you can’t see it, but he’s freaking out, trying to think of an excuse if you decide it was too weird. you don’t do anything to imply that, though, just blink until the words dissolve in the air. “thanks,” you finally reply, as nonchalant as you can make it while you grab his m&ms. he hums in response, turning around to head to the couch, “star wars time,” he winks, making you grin.

you follow him as he heads to the couch, settling down next to him once he puts on the movie. the star wars theme starts, the tune fringed by peter’s humming. cute, you think, snuggling deeper into the crook of his arm and shoving popcorn into your mouth. “hmm, good,” you compliment, watching the scenes you’d seen so many times pass on the screens. you mouth along when you recognize the lines until your eyes feel heavy and they shut completely.

quiet thwips wake you up hours later, when the black of the night has bled the sky blue and the stars have littered over the clouds, the moon replacing the sun. you see that the movie is long over when you blink yourself awake, beginning to cuddle deeper into your pillow when you realize it’s too warm and hard to be a pillow. you are met with the vision of your best friend, lip tugged in between his teeth as he concentrates on something behind you. he doesn’t seem to notice that you’re awake, trying to remain as still as possibly while the thwip noises continue. he mutters a curse, scrunching his nose adorably before flicking his eyes to you. they widen when he notices you’re awake, dropping his hand. “what’re you doing?” you yawn, sitting up and away from the warmth of peter’s embrace. “uh- i just- the movie ended and you didn’t wake up, so i tried to get the remote, then i got hungry…” he scratches the back of his head awkwardly, scanning the room and you turn to observe, stunned to see the mess of webs and dropped items you weren’t sure how you didn’t hear. “oh my god, what the- did you try to get everything with your webs?” you ask in bewilderment, eyeing a bag of gummy worms open and on the floor, you snap your neck towards him to observe his burning cheeks. “um. yes,” he confesses, blushing harder. “why didn’t you just get up?” you question, looking back at the ruined living room, exhaling in surprise as you notice the remote on the ground.

“you... you fell asleep on me. i couldn’t move.”

you pause, tilting your head slightly to look at peter, “pete, god, that’s so sweet. but you really don’t need to…” you motion to the dropped items, “do all that,” you laugh. peter shrugs, and you notice the tips of his ears are red, too. “i didn’t want to wake you up. i know how much of a light sleeper you are.”

you feel like you’re melting, every single muscle in your body drooping in the loveliness that was peter parker. you weren’t sure how the boy was real. you suddenly drop yourself on him again, wrapping your arms around his burning neck, “thank you, peter,” you say into his skin. like a reflex, his own arms go around your waist, holding you securely so you won’t fall, “‘f course.”

a moment of quiet follows until peter’s stomach rumbles suddenly, making you laugh, “i think i’ve starved you long enough. you pick today. also, when did you get so ripped? your arms are so big--” peter cuts you off with a groan, dropping his head on your shoulder, “you had to ruin the moment--”

peter doesn’t know what it is with you (actually, he does) that makes you so distracting. you’re just waiting in line for lunch, standing next to mj and laughing occasionally when she says something. all you’re doing is standing, and maybe it’s peter’s boy-hormones combined with his spider-hormones that magnify every single perfect feature of yours, but he can’t take his eyes off of you. you’re so pretty. the curve of the smiles that pulls into your cheeks, the twinkle that remains permanent in the color of your eyes, the way you look in that skirt--

“maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance,” a voice points out from next to him. peter scoffs, ripping his sight away from you to turn to ned. “i talk to her all the time. she’s my best friend.” ned shakes his head and sighs, “you talk to her about star wars, you talk to me about star wars, how is that supposed to help you have a chance--”

“i have a chance,” peter mumbles, trying to believe it himself, “she knows that she and you stand at different levels of best friends--” ned looks offended, “different levels? what is that supposed to mean--” peter stares exasperatedly at his best friend, “it means i want to date her and i don’t want to date you--”

“that’s a little rude--”

“hey you guys,” you greet, sitting down on the seat in front of peter’s and patting the seat next to you for mj. she stares at you silently, and you frown, patting the seat harder, “sit.” you instruct. she sighs and does what she’s told. “what were you guys talking about?” you ask, picking up your small plate of cherry pie to replace the bowl of orange slices that you took from peter’s plate. “thank you,” peter mumbles, digging his fork into the pie the moment you set it down. you hum, stealing a cherry tomato from his salad.

“oh, you know. the usual, your friendship with peter,” the latter shoots him a look and you raise an eyebrow, “that’s the usual? a little strange, don’t you think?” ned shrugs, “did you know that you and i stand at ‘different levels’ as peter’s best friends?” peter nearly chokes on his pie, glaring at ned. you cock your head at peter, thinking as you steal another tomato, “i… guess i thought so? i’ve known peter since, like, preschool, and we tell each other everything.”

“everything, huh?” ned wonders, a sound of pain falling from his lips when peter kicks him under the table. “peter.” he hisses. mj narrows her eyes at the two boys, “what is going on with you guys today? you’re acting weirder than normal.” peter’s face screws up in confusion, looking to you for help. you shrug, “she’s right.”

“i usually am,” mj mutters.

“so what is it?” you query, popping an orange slice as peter cringes at the mere thought of the taste. “peter has a crush,” ned informs helpfully, oblivious to peter’s dismay, “i- i don’t-”

you blink, feeling mj’s elbow shove into your ribs as her own way to make sure you’re okay. you ignore her, and it tells her everything she needs to know. “it’s liz, right?” you guess, trying to mask the hurt on your face with a teasing smile, “i saw you looking at her the other day. she’s pretty.” “no! it’s not- i mean, yes, liz is pretty, but i don’t like her or anything- ned doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” peter rambles. “pete, you don’t have to be embarrassed, i’m just upset you didn’t tell me,” you lie. peter’s eyebrows furrow, “you’re just upset that… i didn’t tell you?” he repeats. you nod, biting into another orange slice. “just that?” he asks meekly. you cock your head at him.

“i just- never mind. it’s not liz,” he says, poking at his pie. “so you admit you have a crush?” you start with a fake smirk, jabbing at your best friend with your fork, “just not on liz?”

“i didn’t… i didn’t say that-” peter stutters. your eyes narrow at him, lip tugged between your teeth, “i’m gonna find out who it is by the end of the day.”

peter is unfortunately sure you will. he’s not subtle as is, but you’re never deliberately looking for the signs, which makes it a lot easier to hide his embarrassingly large crush on you. but now, you'll be paying attention to his every move, and knowing you, he knows you won’t stop until you find out what you want, unless he tells you to back off. but, does he want you to back off?

he pushes his tray away, suddenly not feeling so hungry.

you stay true to your promise, hanging off his arm for the rest of the day, observing the way he acts around some of your classmates, but somehow not noticing the way he blatantly refuses to look at you- which proves humiliatingly difficult; peter never realized exactly how much he turned to look if you laughed at the joke too, or to catch one of your smiles when you hear something funny or peter whispers a joke into the shell of your ear.

by the end of the day when you’re walking to the train station together, you’re groaning at him, putting your full weight on his arm as you tug at him. “who is it? is it betty? oh my god, is it mj? is that why you kept looking at her?” you ask excitedly. peter wants to tell you the truth: he wasn’t looking at mj, he was looking at you, because as much as he tried, he couldn’t pry his attention off of you, who just so happened to sit next to mj.

“not mj. not betty,” he replies, pulling you inside the subway and scanning for free seats. you trail behind him when he finds a spot, letting you take it as he stands in front of you. “not them… it has to be liz, right?” you pry, sighing when he shakes his head. “brad- it’s brad, right?” you grin, whining when he denies it again. “can you just tell me if i got them already? i’ve practically said everyone in the school,” you complain, “they do go to school with us, right?” at peter’s nod, you drop your head against his abdomen, “and you have not said their name yet.”

“peter,” you drag out, reaching out for his hand to pull it, “just tell me! i can probably set you up with them!”

“y/n, just drop it,” he sighs, and you sigh too, mumbling a fine before noticing an older lady standing at the door. you wave her over, standing next to peter and letting her take your seat. peter feels like his heart will pop out of his chest.

the bumps of the subway push you close enough to him to feel the thundering of his heart, and your eyebrows knit together in worry, “are you okay? your heart’s beating, like, really fast-” yeah and your hand on my chest is not helping- “‘m fine.”

“is it because of the crush thing?” yes, “because i’m sorry about annoying you about it so much, if you don’t want to talk about it, i won’t bother you with it. just know that if they don’t like you back, they’re insane, because you, peter parker, are a ca-”

it was like a rubber band snapping, and peter suddenly couldn’t help it anymore, pushing his lips against yours, effectively cutting you off and catching you so off-guard, you freeze for a second before reacting, pulling his jaw closer. you almost tug him back when he pulls away, before you remember you’re still standing on a crowded, moving subway, and while kissing your best friend had been all you wanted for way too long, you were absolutely going to miss your stop if you didn’t stop.

“i- i’m sorry, i just-” peter stammered, stepping back. “no! so, please don’t apologize, seriously, it’s fine, it’s, like, better than fine.”

a beat of awkward silence passed before the tube halted to the stop right before yours. “it’s you. in case that didn’t… come clear. you’re the person i like,” peter informs quietly. “really?” you ask, cheek already pulling in a shy smile. “really,” peter assures.

this time, you don’t really care if you miss your stop, and neither does peter, now that he knows that, sometimes, peter parker does get the girl.

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harfanfare · 3 years

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How to win a heart of Jamil Viper?

1. Don’t be a typical hero(ine).

Contrary to the popular romance trope, tripping over the air to land on a certain cool-looking boy, and dropping all carried things, wouldn’t make Jamil fall for you. Instead, just falling because of you and sharply crashing with a floor would make him rather cautious around you and keeping a distance whether he has anything in his hands.

Believe him or not, he doesn’t need another ditsy and erratic person around him—like a certain leader from a certain dorm, who happens to create a mess anytime, anywhere.

So, let someone else be the protagonist of the story.

In that situation, you may be a side character that gets its way through obstacles and classic borders of story scheme and is much more interesting than the main persona.

That’s how you get his attention.

‎‎‎‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

2. Be a help.

Oh, a person that would help him with his chores means to him much more than gold. Sometimes.

“Can I help you anyhow?” you asked when Jamil was going to the kitchen after a daily training with the rest of the dorm. He lifted his eyebrow, waiting for further explanation. “I mean with cleaning or something.”

Jamil glanced at you, not sure about your intentions.

Who would like to do something to help without having something in return? With only your will? No, it doesn’t work well in the same sentence.

But some help would be great. So, he just needs to keep sure that he won’t fall into any trap for letting you help, yes?

“Sure,” he said casually, not letting his face nor voice reveal any of his thoughts he run into. “[Name], right? Could you bring and clean the dishes from longue?”

And you helped. You really helped him a lot, staying over two hours till everything was shimmering with cleanliness and your abrupt desire to clean something and be more useful, burned out.

“Thank you for your help,” Jamil said, after correcting the last cushion in the Scarabia’s longue. You flashed him a smile. “But why, if I can ask, did you offer it in the first place?”

He got a quick response in form of a shrug.

“I... don’t really know,” you admitted, glancing at him. “...But you don’t complain, no?”

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3. Be his dish taster.

“The way to a one's heart is through his stomach.”

“Try it,” Jamil handed you a spoon filled with some kind of stew. You consentaneously your opened mouth and drank all content of the spoon. Your mouth filled with many flavours and you couldn’t be sure if you ever ate that good combination in your life. “How was that?”

“Excellent as always.”

You said it all sincerely and maybe would have asked for seconds, if not the fact that Jamil already turned his back to you and got back to pots. He took another spoon and tried the dish himself, clicked his tongue and added more salt.

Once again, he turned to you and handed you a spoon.

“And how was that now?”

“Excellent as always,” you chuckled as he frowned at you.

“Don’t you think that you should add more words to your dictionary? You say the same thing on every dish,” once he said that you finished drying the last plate and preparing silverware for today’s fiesta.

“Don’t you think that I won’t be able to eat anything at the party when I will eat enough of your cooking now to write a poem about each of your culinary masterpieces?” Jamil chuckled slightly at your words.

“So, you don’t want any more?” he teased, but inside he was really flushed. Praises or cajolery, it all makes his heart skip a beat.

Finally, there was someone who appreciated all work he’s done.

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4. Distract Kalim from him.

“You really shouldn’t go there,” you said, your voice as serious as you could keep it. “I mean, what if there is a monster who wants to kidnap you?”

Kalim cocked his head a little, considering your words. After a while, he nodded, fully convinced by your argument.

“You’re right,” he said. “I will warn others about this..!”

Kalim turned on his heel and spotted some people returning from morning classes. He ran to them, greeting them and walking with them as he tried to introduce the situation.

Still not believing Kalim fall for your words, you were standing alone in the centre of the corridor, a bit dumbstruck to discover the excuse Jamil came up with work.

“...Are you sure, you don’t want to tell him that some student’s from other dorm are here?” you asked as if saying to yourself your thoughts aloud.

But there was someone, someone who was hiding behind a big potted palm. He only gave you thumbs up as a preventative measure if there was still a chance that Kalim didn’t just dash through the halls to talk with some dorm students.

Jamil only looked at you and mouthed “No. Party. Today.” and quietly shifted to the corner, where the wall hid him and he could finally get up.

Mission accomplished.

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5. Get rid of bugs for him.

“[Name],” Jamil called out to you, bursting through the door to your room. He looked very pale and panic was staying still in his eyes. “Would you be so kind to... deal with an intruder?”

You frowned a little before biting back a sigh. At first, you were concerned. Even Kalim getting in a serious mess didn’t make him react that seriously. But then you remembered that there was one thing that could make Jamil call you out of nowhere, acting like in an emergency. Emergency only in eyes of few.

Bugs.

Jamil never admitted to you that he is scared of them, but every time you brought up the topis, he snapped his fingers at it, saying that insects just aren’t his favourite kind of animal.

“Hmm~ Maybe after I finish this chapter,” you said, conspicuously turning a page of the book you were reading and with all your will trying not to smile nor to look at the wincing expression Jamil was wearing.

“[Name],” he said, his voice shaking with anger or frustration. “Go there right now or I will make sure you won’t get today’s dinner.”

...No dinner?

“Yes, mum,” you said putting the textbook aside and getting up from the comfortable couch.

Of all people, Jamil is probably the only one—well, maybe also Trey—that could make those words sound dangerous. Like, no dinner made by the best chef in Scarabia? It would be pure agony.

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6. Have competitions.

“Aren’t you a little too good in this game?” you asked, regretfully placing pieces of the game back to the initial places.

He gave you a smile that slowly turned into a smirk, as you groaned at the next round you have lost. You flopped on the big pillow, all your will to play destroyed, as you sank between really cosy material.

“I told you I won’t give you a head start,” Jamil said, his steady voice mixed with amusement. “You even told me that you don’t want me to go easy on you before the game started.”

“Too bad,” you clicked your tongue at his response. “I was sure that after watching you play with Kalim, I remembered your tactics.”

You’ve watched at least eight rounds of Jamil and Kalim playing this game, and when it was coming to end, you were almost sure you understood and remembered the technique he was using in certain situations.

But, to your disappointment, it looked like he – even without using any of his tricky cards in his sleeve – was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, because, after three moves, you knew that probably all three were wrong when the opponent was Jamil.

“You gained nothing by it. Of course, I lost to him or... there would be a trouble,” he exclaimed. “You are different.”

“Oh, thank you. I can lose but he can’t, huh?” you frowned at him as he almost choked on the surprise he felt by hearing your response.

“...Yeah, that’s it. Just it.”

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7. Have study sessions together.

“One class had a test before us,” you said scrolling through your class chat group. “They said that there wasn’t any question about these dates.”

Jamil scribbled down years of the most important magic wars, from time to time looking at you who were listing some test exercises and feeling somehow unmotivated to even properly open a history book.

Your notebook was lying in front of you, today’s lesson topic on the top of the page and many detailed doodles on its margin.

Once again... what was the unit you are having an exam about?

“It doesn’t mean, we won’t get a question about that,” Jamil tried to convince you, sliding textbook your way. “Now, read that aloud, while I prepare notes.”

You blinked twice as if woken up from daydreaming. Were you daydreaming?

“Are you sure..? I mean, all I will do is reading. Wouldn’t you rather want us to read it silently and then share our notes after this?”

“Don’t think about it much. I really like your voice,” he said it so thoughtlessly you weren’t sure if said it as an unarguable fact or just his smooth talker abilities were showing off, “and gave me your notes for the last exam so we’re even. And you won’t do any good notes when you’re sulking over this exam like that.”

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8. Remind him to take breaks.

“You won’t get out of here,” you exclaimed spreading your arms as shielding a door from him. “Not a chance.”

Jamil stood a feet next to you, grimace stretching on his lips as he knew what’s coming up.

“I have to go, [Name].”

He tried to get through you, lightly removing you of his way. He wasn’t a fan of using force on anyone, and he was a hater of using force on you.

Much more than a speakable argument, you were pushing each other closer or further from the door, having a staring contest and reciting all the things he had done in the past two days; except for his daily duties and with the upcoming birthday party of few students of Scarabia who happen to have a celebration in the same day, the number of tasks he was given was overwhelming.

“Stop it!” you protested, trying to push him back. “I am seriously worried about you! Please... take a break.”

Every time he was coming closer to the exit, you stepped back, blocking his way, bumping into him and having to try again.

“You know I have a lot of work to do,” he said, finally stepping back and giving you a break from trying to separate him from the door. “I can’t just give up all my duties, even if I would love a break.”

“I can do it for you,” you quickly offered. “But please, now, go to sleep and don’t you dare touch anything related to school or cleaning.”

...What a weird request.

When was the last time anyone told him to take a break?

He doesn’t remember.

But now, he can say it was recently, all thanks to you.

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9. Promise.

It was really hard for him once all his hard work to keep a high position within the dorm students suddenly dropped after his overblot accident.

“[Name]...”

However, the thing he regretted the most was hurting you. Taking the whole dorm under his unique magic spell, the hypnosis also affected you, making you another servant of his. Even you weren’t the one he ordered a lot, you felt betrayed that even the friendship you two developed didn’t stop him from overblotting.

And if he knew that you would avoid him like fire after the accident, he would probably hesitate a lot.

His throat tightened as he saw you one day in the corridor, looking somehow lonely and tired. He dashed to you, beseeching you to talk to him.

“Sorry for asking, but, Jamil, you don’t hate me, right?” you asked with a pain in your voice. You couldn’t even look at his face, feeling the incomprehensible weight in your gaze. “I mean... Do you only act in front of me friendly? ...Like... with Kalim..?”

“No, no, no,” he protested quickly, making it almost sound like a plea. He gently grabbed your hands, praying that you won’t harshly jerk them back because of him. “I don’t hate you. I really like you. I mean every word I said to you.”

The feeling of release struck you like thunder, you took a big breath, your eyes watering. You slowly reached for his touch, finally ending in a hug.

Jamil ran his fingers through your hair, smelling a familiar, reassuring scent of yours. After a while, he whispered a question.

“So... could you please not avoid me anymore? I know it will be hard to bring up the same relationship we had, but... could you give me a second chance?”

“Okay. But under one condition,” you said, slightly backing off from him. Before he could wonder about the term you would require from him, you finished your thought. “You must be honest with me. I... don’t know what will I do if it all turned to be a play...”

“I will,” he replied, putting his whole heart in these two words. “I will always be honest with you. And won’t ever use my unique magic on you.”

You looked up at him, a small smile starting to rise and heart-throbbing more wilder with his words. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

10. Make him confess.

“What are you doing this weekend?”

Jamil appeared in front of you, almost like popping out of nowhere, as you were done with today’s lessons and slowly heading to your dorm. He caught up with you, changing his pace to match yours.

“I have no plans. I will be probably sleeping or something,” you answered honestly, shrugging and reminding yourself that you should finally hang out with some people from your class to make sure your social life isn’t all over dead.

You were walking in quietly before Jamil broke silence and spoke up again.

“Would you like to go somewhere?” he asked his voice only giving a hint of nervousness—it was nothing compared to the stress he felt inside. It was just a “yes or no” question, he knew that he will meet in future many amazing people like you and shouldn’t be stressed, but having someone so dear to him being asked for a meeting where he will try to finally out find his feeling... it is stressful.

“Hehe~ what, are you asking me on the date?” you teased, but much more than mocking, you were hoping for an answer. For the honest answer, he promised you.

“...And what if I am?” he asked, his voice a bit hushed, but steady.

You felt how heat was coming all the way up to your cheeks, although you tried your best not to let anything more, as if a blush wasn’t obvious enough, know how excited and spellbound you are.

“Then, your wish is my command.”

#.......i don't know how to feel about this #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #twst jamil #twst jamil x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland jamil x reader #twisted wonderland

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ahtsumu · 3 years

Text

long shots ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him.

tag(s): college!au, slow burn, TA!miya osamu, grad student!reader, fluff, reader is a go-getter!! ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, talk of insecurities and imposter syndrome ; wc: 5.6k

a/n: happy birthday to @starrysamu! i love u. pls excuse any errors. i’ll weed them out later! btw this fic is not a sugar daddy au LOL

HIS NAME IS Miya Osamu and he always looks like he has it all figured out. Comes in every class with his black hair perfectly tousled, the sleeves of his dark button-up rolled to his elbows, a cup of coffee in one hand and the strap of that black messenger bag in another.

“He drives a BMW, did ya know?” Isla says in your ear one morning. Your only friend in Food Chemistry I gives you a pointed look before sitting back in her chair in the lecture hall with a smirk on her face. “Saw it this morning. Bet he’s loaded.” The two of you watch the subject in question walk across the classroom and settle in his seat at the table in the corner.

“Shut up,” you whisper with wide eyes. A grin–– far from innocent–– makes its way onto your face. “Imagine being Miya Osamu’s sugar baby.”

“He’s not old enough to be a sugar daddy.” Isla looks at her nails disinterestedly. “And that’s too many AUs in one. He’s already the TA, for god’s sake. This isn’t some shitty Wattpad novel.”

A light giggle slips out of your lips. “I can see the title already. My Sugar Daddy is the TA?!”

Now, if anyone had been listening in on your conversation, they would’ve assumed many things about you. The first being that you’re both gold-diggers. This is untrue–– at least, in your case. Isla, you’re not so sure about, given how your friendship only goes back about one month. But she tags you in memes on Instagram so maybe it’s as real as real gets. Their second assumption would be that you have a big fat crush on your TA. That one’s complicated, mostly because it’s true, but only kinda. It all started in the second week of school when Isla caught you staring at Osamu and slipped you a post-it note with both your initials encircled in a heart. And, because you’re shameless with a good sense of humour, you made a show of kissing it while she was looking. And thus began your meaningless but incredibly entertaining, satirical, co-written fantasy about Miya Osamu.

It also didn’t help that on the first essay you got back, Isla’s paper had been marked up with “are you sure?”s and “this is a jump”s, while yours had “excellent reasoning” and “insightful analysis”. You’d even gotten a little comment at the bottom: y/n, fantastic work. you should speak up in class more often. –– OM

But Miya Osamu doesn’t play favourites because the next week you’d gotten another essay back, this time with another comment at the bottom: y/n, not your best work. you could’ve done better by connecting your first paragraph with the second using grant’s reading. conclusion lacked punch, too. all the best. –– OM

Every time you’d read the words scrawled in blue ink, you’d felt a pair of eyes on you. But you chalk it up to Osamu being a careful grader. A good TA. Someone who cares about his students.

Isla calls bullshit on that. You’re not really sure how to feel about her stance.

The classroom door opens and shuts again. You don’t have to look at your phone to know that it’s nine on the dot. Instead, you and Isla straighten your backs, pull out your notebooks, and focus. Your no-nonsense professor says “good morning” in her usual perky manner before jumping right into her keynote presentation.

“Did you all find the reading okay?” Professor Lee asks an hour into the lecture.

A chorus of “yes”s fill the air. You bite your lip, wondering if revealing that you didn’t understand shit will out you as the class idiot. Or maybe your silence is telling enough–– maybe the people in the seats beside you have noticed the grimace on your face and are having thoughts like ‘gee whiz, am I glad I’m not dumb like her’. Heat rushes to your cheeks. Sometimes you really wonder if you’re smart enough to be here. Occurrences like these do nothing to dispel your insecurities.

You vaguely hear her ask something like, “Any thoughts about the reading?” It’s not that you’re actually dumb. It’s just that this class is ridiculously hard for an introductory course, even for a graduate programme. From the start of the semester til now, fifteen people have dropped the class. There’s just twenty of you left. Guess a ridiculously hot TA can’t save a course’s drop-rate.

Before you can make your mind up on what to say, your professor moves on from her question.

As you look off to the side of the room for a break from your thoughts, you find a pair of blue-grey eyes pointed in your direction.

Everything about you, from the expression on your face to the way your muscles tense, makes you look like a deer caught in headlights–– even though he was the one caught staring in the first place. So maybe your shamelessness works on a scale.

Miya Osamu lifts one corner of his mouth.

And as if the exchange hadn’t happened at all, he looks back down at his laptop and continues typing.

The rest of the lecture goes through one ear and out the other.

“Everyone, I believe Osamu has something he wants to say,” Professor Lee says as everyone begins packing their bags.

The raven-haired TA slides out of his seat and sits on top of his desk. “Yeah.” Osamu clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. You notice how the muscles in his arms bulge from the movement.

“Whipped,” Isla mutters, grinning mischievously.

“Him for me,” you whisper back, though your eyes do travel back to his face where they should’ve been all along. Osamu catches your gaze and holds it. And then he looks away again.

“Now, I know you’re all Nobel prizewinners in the making,” he begins, garnering a round of snickers and giggles from your classmates. Most people say that cliques dissolve in college. That there’s no such thing as popularity amongst graduate students. That much, you agree with. But no one ever said anything about popular teacher’s assistants. Especially smart, attractive, witty teacher’s assistants like Miya Osamu. “But in case you didn’t understand the reading or would like to develop a deeper understanding of it, don’t hesitate to email me. I’ll try to host a review session all of us can attend.”

Professor Lee smiles appreciatively at Osamu, adding, “That’s a wonderful idea, Osamu. Guys, please take this opportunity if you struggled with the reading. I know eighty pages is a lot, but our next three classes are structured around the concepts in the reading and the mid-term next week will almost exclusively be about it, too.”

Well, shit.

To: [email protected]

Hi Osamu,

I was wondering if I could get some help with the reading from last class. To be frank, I couldn’t make it past page 15 and I’m lost like a snot-faced five-year-old in a shopping mall on Black Friday. Sorry. Thanks in advance!

Regretfully,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

no problem. is 5 pm tomorrow at jack’s okay? we start on the concepts from the reading next class so i want to get you up to speed asap. let me know. thanks.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

It’s five minutes to five when you pull into the parking lot of Jack’s Diner. The shiny, retrofuturistic eatery is a university favourite but the empty parking lot tells you it’s completely deserted right now (and rightfully so–– who eats dinner before six?). The black BMW parked a few spots from your car, however, says that you’re not alone.

Osamu’s figure comes into view as you reach for the handle to the front door of Jack’s. The twenty-six-year-old sits by himself at one of the bright red tables in the back, typing away on his dark grey laptop.

His head lifts up at the sound of the opening door. Osamu calls out your name and waves you over.

“Hi,” you greet with a smile, sitting down across from him.

“Hey.”

You look around before leaning forward on the table. “Is anyone else coming?”

“No.” Osamu sits back in his seat. “I thought about hosting one big group, but then I realised that it’d probably be stressful for the staff here.” He nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. “And I had a hunch that everyone would have different questions. Forcing everyone to review concepts they already know is a waste of time.”

At first, you nod. That makes sense. But then you furrow your brows. “So how long have you been here?”

Osamu blinks. He hadn’t expected you to ask about him. “Hmm? Oh.” He taps his phone to check the time. “Just a while.”

Quirking a brow, you ask, “And how long is ‘a while’ to you?”

“Seven hours,” he admits, chuckling lightly when he sees your jaw drop. “A lot of people had questions. They just don’t act like they do. Anyway, time flies. Really, it does.” Quickly, he clears his throat and sits forward. “So, about your email.” He grins. “Not sure if you meant it to be funny, but it was.”

“I’m glad my distress was entertaining for you. Do you TA just to watch grad students suffer?”

“Perks of the job,” Osamu says. His grin widens when you giggle. He’s never heard you laugh before and he realises at that moment that it’s really nice. And then that same grin falters. Gracefully, of course, and imperceptibly to you. But not to him. Is it okay for him to be… thinking things like that? About a student? But you’re not really his student since he’s just the TA. Right? Osamu ignores the weird feeling that comes over him and clasps his hands together at the edge of his laptop. “Back to your email. Can ya tell me what you’re confused about?”

Three hours and two Impossible Burgers later, you suddenly understand everything about food molecules so well that you wonder why you’d even been confused in the first place. But besides that, you’ve also picked up things about Osamu. As a person and not an idea. Not that you’d been actively searching for fun facts about your TA. But they’d stuck to your brain like gum at the bottom of a desk. He likes to slip sarcastic quips into a conversation every now and then. Eats burgers upside down (“The right way,” as he’d said, smirking). Is friendlier than he looks.

“You’re really good at explaining things,” you comment as Osamu shuts his laptop closed.

“Well, I kinda have to be,” he says. And maybe it’s the mental fatigue catching up on him or the fact that he’s real fond of the reason why he can break big concepts down into morsels but suddenly, the rest of his thoughts spill out his mouth like wine. “I have a twin brother with potato salad for brains.”

“Oh?”

And before he can stop himself, he tells you about Miya Atsumu, the pro-athlete you’ve definitely heard of but never gave too much thought. And then you hold onto the fact that they were both on the volleyball team and you ask of which school, so then he tells you about Inarizaki, the high school he attended, and then his decision not to go pro to go to college, and then––

“Sorry,” he laughs, cheeks turning pink. “You probably didn’t need to hear all that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say–– and you mean it. “Your life is interesting.”

Osamu leans back in his chair. “Well, I’m sure yours is, too.” He holds your gaze like it’s the key to your presence. It’s an invitation. The kind that comes from people who don’t really know if they want you around but also don’t want you gone.

You take it.

Osamu shouldn’t–– he really shouldn’t–– but he wonders about the things you didn’t tell him the entire drive home.

Isla laughs when you tell her about what happened at Jack’s. You lay in bed with your phone next to you on speaker, your face turned on your pillow so that you’re staring out the window at the city below.

“He wants you,” she sings.

“Or he was just being nice.”

“Methinks not!” Isla giggles. “He’s intrigued, girl! You’re like that cute little new mystery in his life and he just wants to get to know you.”

“I think he was just being polite.”

“Or he’s crushing on you!”

“In your dreams.”

“You mean yours? Boo, you’re no fun today. Usually, you go along with the jokes.” Isla’s tone is playful on the surface but full of implications.

A few silent seconds pass. Yeah, you think, agreeing. I do.

“Girl,” Isla drags out the word in a high pitch, saying it like a scientist says ‘eureka’. “You’re not playing along anymore because it’s real now. You're actually catching feelings!”

“Am not!” you laugh.

“The Y/N I knew would’ve said ‘nah, bitch, he’s catching feelings’ and I think that says all there is to say.”

“Okay, I think he’s cute but it’s not a crush,” you concede, grinning. “And he’s the TA, Isles. It’d never happen.”

“Not while he’s still a TA in a class you take.”

“Isla.”

“Ask him out once this semester ends! Unless you’re chicken.”

“I’m not asking him out.”

“Knew you were––”

“Have you seen me? He’s asking me out.”

Miya Osamu walks through the door at eight-fifty as usual that next morning, dressed in his usual button-up, holding his usual cup of coffee. But this time, as the rest of his tall frame passes through the doorway, Osamu’s eyes subtly scan the faces in the lecture hall, lingering for just a while over yours. The corners of your lips turn up. You hope he saw that.

“Bitch!” Isla whisper-screams. The students sitting around you turn around at the noise and grin at each other when they realise it’s just Isla being… well, Isla. She shoos them away jokingly.

“What?” you whisper back.

“Care to explain why our TA was literally eye-fucking you?”

“That was hardly eye-fucking,” you retort. “Maybe like an eye-handshake.”

“Yeah, a naked eye-handshake where his thang is handshaking your––”

He does it again the next class.

And the next.

And then he doesn’t. Miya Osamu walks through the door to Food Chemistry I at eight-fifty in the morning in a navy blue button-up with a cup of coffee in his hand and looks through the rows of seats in the lecture hall for your face, only to find it missing.

He debates pressing the matter.

To: [email protected]

hey osamu,

i wasn’t in class today because i’ve been sick with the flu (no big deal, just feel like i’m dying). a classmate sent me pictures of the slides from today so i think i should be fine, but is it okay if i email you with any questions? thank you very much!

miserably,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: [email protected]

y/n,

of course. sorry to hear that you’re sick. let me know if i can do anything to help you. the midterm is next week. get well soon.

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

“You writing that the midterm is next week did not offer me any peace of mind, by the way,” you say, spinning around in your chair as Miya Osamu enters your pod in the library.

He offers you a wry grin. “Hello to ya, too.”

“Was that an accent?” You thought you’d heard one at Jack’s, but you couldn’t be sure because it’d been so spotty.

Osamu slips into the seat beside yours and pulls out the laptop in his messenger bag. You catch a whiff of his cologne–– something spicy and woody, but clean. It suits him. “Nice catch. Yeah, I speak a regional dialect. Took me a while to smooth it over but it still resurfaces every now and then.”

“Why?”

“It just didn’t seem fitting for a PhD candidate, I guess,” Osamu explains, opening the slides from the class you missed. A day after your initial exchange, you’d emailed him again (with a much clearer mind) and asked if he could go over the slides with you in person.

i literally feel like i’ve been given the homework from russian lit, you’d written. except the russian has been translated to hieroglyphs and my task is to choreograph an interpretive dance based on the hieroglyphs.

Osamu had snickered when he saw your email. that doesn’t even make sense. must be the fever talking, he’d been tempted to write. But that strange feeling had come over him again, the one that’d screamed at him to keep it professional, goddamnit, so he’d played it safe instead and sent is eight pm at the main library okay? He hates that you’re getting a watered-down version of his personality. Osamu swears he’s a lot more interesting when he’s not, well, a TA.

“I think it’s fine,” you say, smiling. “I like it. It’s you.” And suddenly, you’re wondering if it’s okay to be complimenting your TA. If it’s okay to say that you like things about him, or if that crosses some grey, unclear line. Is it weird to treat your TAs like they’re your friends? It’s not like TAs are real teachers. Right?

A grin–– wide and genuine and almost excited–– grows on Osamu’s face. He rubs the back of his neck as his eyes flit over to the laptop screen. “Thanks. Really.”

You nod. But you feel like there’s more that he might want to say, so you wait.

“I got a lot of shit for it when I came here for my master’s, y’know. Not to my face, of course, but people would refer to me as ‘the guy with the accent’. A professor once said it made me seem crass. Said it’d hold me back in my career.”

“So you changed.”

“Adapted,” Osamu corrects. “It’s hard to admit but conforming is sometimes all you can do when you don’t have the power to change the system. Can’t really make everyone suddenly respect a dialect.”

“And after you’re finished with your PhD, you’ll go back to speaking in that dialect?”

Osamu looks out the window and smiles, probably imagining the plans he’s already made about the future. “Yeah.”

“What if you have to speak the standard language at your job? Like, your boss is all, ‘hey man, if you don’t speak––”’

“I’ll be the boss.”

“Oh?”

And with a little more prodding, Miya Osamu tells you about the restaurant chain he plans on opening after graduation, the slides about food additives left completely untouched.

The librarian knocks on your pod a few minutes before eleven to tell you they’re closing.

“Shit,” Osamu murmurs, running his hands through his hair. You’re still laughing about something he’d said before the librarian interrupted him–– one of his stories from high school–– and he thinks that you’ve completely forgotten that the reason you came to the library was to catch up on the material you were already behind on. And now you’re behind on that. But you look so carefree right now and, actually, you’re very pretty and you’ve got such a good heart and it’s a lot for him to process but he knows he just wants to see you happy a while longer. So Osamu just slumps back in his chair and laughs along with you.

He says your name as his chuckles grow softer. “It’s pretty late. How’re you getting home?”

“I’ve a bike,” you reply. It’s good for the environment and is a pretty solid form of exercise if you do say so yourself. Sometimes you just don’t feel like driving.

Osamu presses his lips in a thin line. Would it be too much to offer you a ride? “I can drive you home. It’s really not safe for you to be alone outside, especially near midnight. You can get your bike tomorrow. Or I’ll get it for you.”

He drives fast. Not the unsafe fast that speed demons drive at, but the kind of fast where you know he’s got some edge to his character. You bring it up to him–– especially since it’s nighttime, for god’s sake, he could hit something–– and all he does is remind you how there are lamps as bright as the sun lining the entire road to your dorm. And the fact that you live in the least accessible dorm on campus.

“A twenty-minute drive?” he’d exclaimed when he saw the GPS monitor.

“A bunch of roads are closed for construction. It’s a ten-minute bike-ride because I can cut through campus.” And suddenly feeling a little burdensome, you’d added, “Sorry. I can still bike––”

“No.” He’d held his hand out in front of you, gesturing for you to stay in the passenger’s seat. “It’s not a bother at all.” Because it wasn’t. Osamu was… happy. Not that he’d admit that.

“So this BMW,” you start in a teasing tone.

Osamu smirks. “A gift.”

“Can I guess from who?”

“Sure.”

“Atsumu.”

His brows rise. “Colour me impressed.” He hadn’t expected you to remember anything he’d said about Atsumu. Or maybe he had but told himself otherwise to lower his hopes.

“I’m smart like that.”

He snorts. “Not if you keep distracting me and using your review time to…” hang out with me, get to know me, tell me things about you… “…goof off.”

You grimace. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Osamu makes a turn down a familiar street. It dawns upon you that you're ten minutes away from your dorm and suddenly you wish he’d just make the wrong turn at the next intersection so that you could talk to him some more. It can even be about the health benefits of fish or the molecular makeup of kale–– you don’t mind. You just want to be around him longer.

“I think you’re really smart,” Osamu says quietly. “I think you’re not processing the readings because you’re distracted, or just not fully applying yourself. Obviously, last class’s slides are a different thing, since you were absent. But you really are smart. I’ve seen your papers.”

You bite your lip to hide your grin, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You look out the window, too jacked on dopamine to think straight. “I think I still need you, though.”

And that innocuous little sentence floats right out your mouth into the air, settling between you like a little wedge before either of you even realise it. Neither of you says anything. You marinate in the awkwardness before stuttering out a clarification. “To, um, to explain things. Y’know, since you’re, uh, so good at… explaining things.”

Osamu clears his throat and chuckles stiffly. There’s a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks. “Thanks,” he says, looking straight ahead. He can’t even look at you. Fuck. It’s so awkward. “I’ll try to keep… explaining things.” Fuck. What does that even mean?

A few uncomfortable minutes pass in silence. The night can’t end like this, you think. It can’t when everything else had gone so well. You still have to see him for a few more months. “Did you know,” you start, catching Osamu’s attention, “that Jack’s Diner has a location in Italy?”

“Oh?” he asks, making the final turn to the street where your dorm is. He actually hadn’t.

“Yeah. I asked the owner about the chain a while back. Have you ever been to Italy?”

Osamu shakes his head. “I’ve been to Paris, though. To see a friend. He’s a chocolatier.”

Now, if Osamu had been your friend, you would’ve said something like well, let’s go to Italy together, except he’s not. He’s your TA and you’ve been reminded that enough tonight. So instead, you say, “When you open that restaurant of yours in Italy, let me know.”

“That’s gonna take a while,” he laughs. He appreciates how you said ‘when’, though. And he tucks that little bit of confidence you have in him somewhere deep in his mind so that it doesn’t get lost.

“Isn’t that just seven hours?” you shrug, grinning. Osamu’s BMW pulls up outside your dorm and parks as he marvels at what you just said. You’re amazing. You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face your driver.

“Thank you for driving me,” you say, offering him a smile.

“Yeah,” he replies.

You stretch out your hand. With a puzzled look on his face, Osamu grabs it and shakes it. Firmly. You can’t help but notice how nice his hands are. Calloused for sure, but they feel nice.

“Goodnight, Osamu.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He watches you jog into the building before driving away. And it’s like you’ve possessed his car or something because the smell of your shampoo and perfume is everywhere and it’s too much but it’s also not enough at the same time and he can feel your palm against his as he spins the steering wheel to make a turn and for the first time in his life he doesn’t turn on the radio to fill the silence in his car. Osamu replays everything you said in his head.

But he especially thinks about that part where you said you need him.

Weeks melt into months. You turn in essays after essays for Food Chemistry I, each coming back with detailed commentary in an all-too-familiar blue scrawl. All your other classes go well–– extremely well, actually. You might just end the semester with a 4.0 if Food Chem doesn’t fuck you over. Isla still tags you in memes on Instagram. You still tell her about everything that happens with Osamu.

Speaking of.

“That’s the wrong equation,” he says behind your ear as he settles in the seat beside you. The sound of his low voice so close to your ear sends a small shiver down your spine. “You gotta switch the hydrogens.” Osamu knocks on your skull lightly. “What’s goin’ on up in there? Ya got somethin’ on your mind?”

You laugh and elbow him in the side. “Shut up, ‘Samu.” He’d told you during one of his office hours that he’d gone by that nickname because he had a teammate with a foreign name in high school. It sounded so cool, he’d said, grinning.

I think Osamu sounds pretty cool already, you’d teased.

And he’d replied, Let’s trade. I like yours, you like mine, why not share?

You teeter on the line between friends and less-than-friends and, oddly enough, more-than-friends. Sometimes you still play it safe. Sometimes he pauses between texts and real-time conversations, no doubt to scrap an instinctive reply for something more “professional”. Sometimes you say things that make him look at you with the ghost of a smile at the corners of his lips. Sometimes he calls Atsumu to scream about you.

“S’not a no,” Osamu points out. He’s dressed in a black sweater and grey trousers today. You’re suddenly reminded of how the weather’s been getting colder when someone opens the door to the university café and lets in a gust of chilly autumn air.

“Okay,” you admit, setting down the pencil. “I just… don’t really feel prepared for this next test.”

Osamu frowns and looks down at your worksheet. “Your process is correct, though.”

“Right, but… I don’t know. I’ve just not been feeling great about myself lately,” you laugh, looking down at your feet. “Food Chem’s the toughest class I’ve ever taken. And remember how I completely embarrassed myself in that class discussion last week? It’s not really making me feel like I belong here.”

“Imposter syndrome,” Osamu remarks.

“Correct-o.”

He says your name softly and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Maybe you’re not the smartest, but you’re definitely smart. And you belong here. I’ve seen your papers. They’re just as great as anyone else’s and I don’t hand out compliments for nothin’. You’re gonna do some great things but ya can’t improve if you ever give up.” Osamu searches your eyes for a sign of your understanding.

There’re a lot of things you want to say but you don’t know how to put them into words. “Can I hug you?” you finally ask.

Osamu doesn’t even think about it. “Of course.”

He feels you smile against his chest and wonders if you can feel his heart beat faster.

Isla camps out in your dorm as finals come around the corner.

“I don’t understand shit!” she wails, throwing her notebook into the air.

“Isles, it’s okay,” you laugh, slipping out of your chair and walking over to her nest in the corner. “You gotta chill, dude.”

“Not fair! I didn’t have a hunk holding my hand through this course all semester,” she retorts, humour glittering in her dark eyes. “I had the Organic Chemistry Tutor and his accent’s cute enough but, girl, you had Miya Fucking Osamu!”

“You’re literally the worst.” You giggle and sit down beside her. “Tell me what you’re confused about. I’ll try to explain it to you.” The way Osamu does.

You text him that you’d channelled his brains later that night.

His reply comes seconds later. all you, einstein.

From: osamu

good luck on the exam

you’re going to kill it

To: osamu

would u like to divulge any… information about it? 😏 😏 😏

From: osamu

bye

To: osamu

i was kidding :(

From: osamu

fine. tip #1: write your name

To: osamu

not very helpful. 0/10

From: osamu

keep running your mouth and 0/10 is what your score’s going to be

i’m kidding

you got this, y/n

“Holy fuck,” Isla groans as you cross the street to head to lunch at Jack’s. “If you don’t see me next semester it’s because I’ve gotten my grade back and decided to drop out.”

“What would you do?” you ask, amused.

“Maybe move to New Zealand. Raise some sheep. Marry a hot, blond shepherd and fuck off to a cliffside cottage.”

“Solid plan.”

“What about you?” she asks.

“What about me?”

“Remember that conversation we had at the start of the year? About your man?” The two of you reach another red light for pedestrians.

“We’re friends. He’s not my man,” you laugh. Though it pains you to. Something about being Miya Osamu’s friend doesn’t really sit right with you, but you don’t know how to not be his friend. You don’t know how to move out of the corner you’ve backed yourself into.

“But you wish he were! And now you can finally hit him with that ‘Hey, Osamu, I’ve been madly in love with you since the start of the semester, wanna fuck like rabbits and then open that store in Italy?’ and he’ll be all––”

A throat clears behind you. With wide eyes, the two of you turn around.

Holy fuck.

Miya Osamu stands behind you with his hands in his pockets and an enormous smirk on his face.

“He’ll be all what?” he asks, eyes fixed on you.

Isla murmurs an excuse and starts walking on her own to Jack’s.

“Um.” You swallow nervously and shrink in your coat. “You heard all of that, right?”

“Yep.” Osamu grins. He grins. He’s grinning. He’s smiling like he’s won the fucking lottery and you honestly don’t know what to do with that information.

“So, like,” you look down at the sidewalk and kick at a pebble, “what are your thoughts about that?” God, you could die. “‘Cause I know you’re a TA and it’d probably look pretty bad and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because I like you and it’s cool if we just…”

Osamu interrupts you with a laugh. “My thoughts,” he says, “are that I want to kiss you.” His fingers lift your chin up. “What are your thoughts about that?”

Well, shit. “I think that’s pretty cool, yeah,” you breathe, eyelids fluttering shut as his face comes closer to yours.

He tastes like mint. And his lips move softly, slowly against yours like he’s savouring the moment. And then you feel his hands snake around your waist to pull you closer–– closer because you both are tired of forcing the distance between bodies that want to be near each other, closer because he’s thought about kissing you just like this for so long, closer because you remember the last time he’d touched you was three days ago and it was just a brush of his fingers against your arm and that feeling of wanting more haunted you for the entire night. But holy shit, Miya Osamu is kissing you. He’s kissing you.

And then he pulls away. His dark eyes flit over yours. “I,” he breathes, “I need your course load next semester.”

“What?” you ask, disbelief written all over your features, chest rising and falling as you try to steady your breathing. You just kissed, for God's sake, and he's––

“I need to know which courses not to apply to TA for,” he grins, cupping your face in his hands. “Can’t be teachin’ in a class with my girlfriend as a student.”

“So we’re official?” you ask, beaming.

“If you want,” Osamu replies with a smirk.

You grab the front of his coat and tug him down for another kiss. “Hell yeah, I want to be official.”

#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu scenarios #miya osamu imagines

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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

Text

Always You | JJK (Eight-Part 1)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 11.5k (part 1)

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (!!!), mentions of sex, oc struggles with her future, mentions of vibrator, mentions of cum eating, dirty talk, vaginal fingering, oral (female receiving), masturbation, swallowing

Notes: I am having to post this chapter in two parts, I am so sorry about that! But here it is!! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter:) feel free to send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat about the story:) I LOVE talking with ya’ll!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @aclowe13 @bishuthot @271101 @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch @not-your-lion @flowersgirl02 @justinetingball @fiantomartell @fairysunooo @taebae19

Previous ---- Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

September

“What about this one?” You hold up another birthday banner, showing Vanessa yet another option.

“Ugly.” She says.

This is the fourth fucking birthday banner you’ve shown her and she doesn’t approve of any of them. But you have to admit this one is a little ugly.

“Vanessa…” you groan out, getting very obviously frustrated.

“I like this one.” She points to a banner. The very first one you showed her.

“Seriously?” you grab the banner and place it in your cart. “Okay, we still have to pick up the cake at 3. And we need to make sure we have enough plates for everyone…oh! We also still have to pick up the bottles at the liquor store.”

“I can get the cake.” She replies smoothly.

“We can just go together?”

Today is Jungkook’s birthday and you and Vanessa have been (Kind of) texting throughout the last week trying to find a good day to meet up. The day happened to be today of all days, so you’re feeling quite rushed.

“Fine.” Vanessa picks at her cuticles, just standing here looking gorgeous.

You on the other hand…were not expecting this to be a fashion show! You’re in shorts and a t shirt while she wears a flowy green dress and sandals.

“I want to be the one to present his cake to him though,” Vanessa begins, her eyes never leaving her fingers, “I am his girlfriend after all.”

You hate that your chest tightens at her words, you hate how her words affect you like this, how she affects you like this. Just being in her presence alone makes your heart twist.

“Got it.” You place some birthday plates in the cart, “So…what did you get him for his birthday?” you try to make conversation.

“A cologne.”

“You know he’s sensitive to smells—”

“He likes this one.”

“Oh.”

“I know him better than you think y/n.” her smooth voice cuts you like a butcher knife.

You nod your head, not knowing what to say. Maybe she does. But like, you still know him better right? You got to, right?

“What about you?” Vanessa lifts her eyes to meet yours, her eyes are small and dark and inviting.

“Uh, to be honest…I’m meeting with Jimin after this so we can go shopping for his gifts. So, I don’t know yet but I have an idea.”

“And what’s your idea?” her eyes go back down to her nails that she keeps picking at.

“Friendship bracelets.” You state.

“Hm.” Vanessa pushes the cart forward and walks towards the isle with candles. “We still need nice candles for the cake.”

“Right.”

~~~~~~~

“It couldn’t have been that bad, babe.” Jimin holds up a plain black hoodie and nods approvingly. “Another one for his collection, what do you think?”

“Looks like something I’d steal, so yes.” You give him a quick thumbs up, “And it was bad dude. She’s so hard to talk to!”

“Yeah, I could see that.” Jimin stands in front of a full body length mirror and checks himself out, pushing his hair out of his face. “Forehead or no forehead, tonight?”

“Hmm, no forehead.”

“Forehead it is.”

“Wow, you never listen to me!”

Jimin chuckles wholeheartedly, shrugging his shoulders like he agrees with you.

“So, where are these bracelets you keep going on about?”

“That one weird shop buy the smoothie place has these cute bracelets with letters for names on them! I was thinking I could get him a black one with my initial on it and I would get myself one with his initial.”

“You guys are so…that’s cute I guess.” Jimin giggles, he holds up his wrist as if imagining himself with the bracelet. “I want one too!” he whines.

“Maybe for your birthday.” You wink. “Anyway, do you think Vanessa knows Jungkook better than me?”

Jimin stops walking to get a look at you, an expressions that reads: Are you serious? Plastered on his face.

“It’s a valid question.” You say.

“No one knows Jungkook like you honey.”

“Okay…Also, you’ll be meeting my friend Yoongi tonight!”

“The not date, date guy?” Jimin pouts, “I thought you weren’t going to lead him on…”

You scrunch up your face in confusion,

“I can have friends Jimin, I’m not leading him on!” you try to defend.

“If you say so. Just like, try to focus on one boy at a time, you know?” Jimin teases.

You two walk to the shop that sells the bracelets and go inside. You find the bracelets you’re looking for rather quickly, feeling nice and lucky. You grab them and go to pay, when you finish up at the register you notice a Jack Skellington key chain and add it on to Jungkook’s gifts. You always have trouble finding good gifts for people, okay? You take what you can get.

“Shit, it’s already 6. I still need to go home and get ready!”

~~~~~

Nick lets you and Vanessa use their place as the spot to celebrate, it’s bigger than your place and Vanessa agrees saying it’s bigger than hers as well. Nick and his bro that believes in aliens (You really got to learn his name but at this point you are too afraid to ask) are the only ones here as you and Vanessa set up.

“Bro AI is out to get us man—” Aaanndd you are tuning him out, you watch as Nick listens closely, nodding his head every few minutes and whispering ‘Bro’. You and Vanessa hang up decorations in silence, the sound of Nick and his bro chatting away filling the room.

“People should start arriving soon…” you try to make small talk with Vanessa, she only hums in response not even sparing you a glance.

“You look nice.” You try giving her a compliment, she turns her head to the side to look at you and a sly smile grows on her face.

“Do you have feelings for Jungkook?”

You immediately choke on your fucking spit, what the actual fuck? You try to compose yourself when you hear the front door opening. Thank God.

“It is I!” You know that voice. “Where is my Jungkookie?” You hear Jin entering the living room along with Namjoon and Hobi.

“Jimin should be bringing him in the next 30 or so minutes!” you yell out. Once Jin and the other two boys spot you they light up.

“y/n!!!” Jin hurries to your side and bring you in for a quick hug. “How are you?!”

“Good, good.” You laugh, hugging him back.

“Good to see you y/n” Namjoon says with a soft smile and then you hear your named being shouted even though Hobi is a foot away from you.

“Long time no see!!!” He hugs you, shaking you around in his embrace. You can’t help but chuckle at your friend.

“Hi guys, I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Would we miss our Jungkookie’s birthday? No way.” Jin says.

“Oh,” you turn around to see Vanessa just standing behind you, not saying anything just staring. “This is Vanessa. Jungkook’s—”

“We know!” Hobi says, “Jungkook has brought her to Jin’s. Nice to see you again Vanessa!”

Vanessa tilts her head and nods, her lips not even attempting to curve into a smile.

“You too.” She finally says.

This girl either has no manners or just does not know how to properly socialize? Maybe she gets anxiety being around too many people?

You feel your phone buzz.

Yoongs 7:14pm

Im outside

“Be right back guys, a friend of mine just got here.” You try talking over your group of friends. You head towards the front door, swinging it open to a Min Yoongi waiting patiently.

He smiles at you when he sees you, he holds up a bottle of wine and shakes it around a bit.

“For the party.” He says.

“Perfect, let’s pour us a glass right now!” you gesture him to enter the apartment.

You two walk into the kitchen, and you start searching for a wine bottle opener but can’t seem to find it.

“Hey Nick!” You yell out, hoping to get his attention, “Where’s the wine opener?”

Nick shuffles into the kitchen and gives you an expression that screams he has no idea.

“I know where it’s at.” Vanessa’s silky voice fills your ears as she enters the kitchen.

“Oh.” Of course she does. Why wouldn’t Vanessa know? She probably comes here more than you do…

“Thanks.” You finally say when she hands you the wine opener.

“Well, let’s open this baby up!” you turn to face Yoongi and he smiles at you.

“Hi Vanessa.” Yoongi waves at the girl and she hums in response, walking out of the kitchen.

“Sorry, she’s…” but you don’t know what to say. Also, why are you trying to excuse her?

You pour you and Yoongi a glass and gulp it down quickly, you finish your first glass in just seconds.

“I need another one.”

“What’s got you so stressed in a time of celebration?” Yoongi casually sips on his wine, one baby sip after the other.

“Nothing, nothing.”

“y/n…” his soft tone makes you feel comforted already and he hasn’t even said anything yet.

“I don’t know how to say it without sounding psychotic.” You admit, pouring yourself your second glass of wine.

“Try me.”

“I feel like I am competing…with…”

“With Vanessa?” He gladly finishes for you.

“Yeah, like…I don’t know, I feel like she’s trying to take my place. But my place isn’t ‘girlfriend’ so I don’t know what I’m freaking out about.”

Yoongi sets his glass down and studies you for a moment, you begin to feel antsy under his gaze.

“I’m obviously on your side,” Yoongi begins in a hushed voice, “But maybe she’s worried too?”

“I wish I knew if she felt worried, or felt like, anything. This girl is hard to crack!” you quietly say.

“Just try to enjoy the night, okay?” Yoongi smiles and you don’t even feel like smiling back but you do. Suddenly, you feel your phone going off.

Jungkook 7:32pm

Why is Jimin making me dress up? I thought it was just a couple of us? Why do I need to look nice, I’m tired from work

Jungkook 7:33pm

Seriously y/n…it’s just a couple of us, right?

y/n 7:35pm

omg yes Jungkook it’s nothing big I swear, he just wants you to look nice for pictures

Jungkook 7:36pm

I always look nice for pics lol

y/n 7:38pm

No comment

Jungkook 7:40pm

Don’t be fukin rude

` y/n 7:40pm

Can you guys hurry up?

Jungkook 7:44pm

Jimin is in the mirror deciding if he’s showing his forehead or not

y/n 7:45pm

classic Jimin

Jungkook 7:45pm

Classic Jimin

You stuff your phone in your back pocket and grab your glass of wine and begin sipping on it again. Yoongi eyes you up and smirks.

“That the birthday boy?”

“Hm? Oh, sorry…yes. He and Jimin should be here soon.” You watch as Yoongi nods his head and then you realize…”Oh my god, let me introduce you to the guys!” you set your glass down on the counter and reach for Yoongi’s hand and pull him towards the living room. Unfortunately for you, you miss the way Yoongi blushes at the contact.

“Guys, guys.” You interrupt the boys from their conversations, “This is my friend Yoongi…” you gesture towards the boy, “Yoongi, this is Jin…Namjoon, Hobi, and Nick and his pal, uh…” you blink at Alien Dude and he just grins at you, not realizing you don’t know his fucking name. “Yeah, anyway.” You decide to move on, “Jungkook and Jimin should be here soon—” Suddenly, there is soft knocking on the door. You raise a brow because who else could it be?

You walk towards the front door and look through the peep hole and much to your surprise you see Holly and Trina waiting outside the door. You’re quick to open it with a wide smile on your face.

“I thought you didn’t want to come?” You ask, your question directed towards Trina.

“I…” her eyes slide to Holly, “…Had a change of heart.” She huffs out quietly.

“You’re going to be civil?” you smirk at your friend and she rolls her eyes at you.

“She’s going to be more than civil.” Holly pipes up, “She’s going to be nice.”

“Hey we never agreed to that!” Trina crosses her arms over her chest, “But whatever.”

“Thanks for coming T.” your smirk transitions into a soft smile. This means a lot to you, that Trina is trying to accept Jungkook.

“Well? Are you going to let us in or what?”

“Right, right.” You move to the side and let the girls through. They step inside and make their way towards the boys.

“Oh? You must be Mister Oatmeal Raisin!” Trina grins towards Yoongi, who stands here chatting with Hobi.

“You’re…let me guess, Trina? And you must be Holly?” he nods at both girls, “I’ve heard a lot about you two.”

“I hope good things?” Trina teases.

“Only the best.” Yoongi raises his glass to her and she turns her head to smirk at you.

You watch as everyone gets along, talking, laughing and having a good time—all except Vanessa. She is sitting on the sofa on her phone, tapping away. She doesn’t even try to converse with any of Jungkook’s friends? Strange. You hate her, technically. But you can’t help but feel bad? Like, why does she isolate herself so much? Does she really just have some social anxiety or something? There’s got to be a reason for her odd behavior.

“Hey.” You say, sitting on the sofa next to her. “You okay?”

“Hm?” Vanessa doesn’t look up from her phone as she barely acknowledges you.

“Why don’t you come hang out with the rest of us?”

Vanessa tilts her head to get a look at you and she blinks at you repeatedly.

“Why?” she finally asks. “I’m only here for Jungkook.”

Okay, ouch.

“Oh...well—”

“You never answered my question from earlier,” Vanessas coy smile begins growing on her face. “How you feel about Jungkook.”

You feel your palms get sweaty when you process her words. How the hell do you respond to that?

“I—I…” Then the front door is opening and you hear Jimin obnoxiously announce their arrival, that he has the birthday boy.

You immediately jump to your feet and rush towards the entrance of the apartment to greet your friends.

“Too bad you can’t admit it, “ Vanessa whispers, her eyes going back to her phone, “I could help you too.”

“JUNGKOOKIE!!!” Jin opens his arms wide, “Come and embrace me! It’s your birthday gift.” Jungkook stumbles in the apartment with wide eyes as he searches the living room. His eyes find yours and he smiles. He shows you his bunny grin and you can’t help but smile back. He looks breathtaking, Jimin didn’t play around picking Jungkook’s outfit. Ripped black jeans, chunky boots, a plaid shirt with a leather jacket—he looks hot as hell. Vanessa is a lucky girl, you think bitterly to yourself.

Jungkook greets his friends one by one until he sees Yoongi walk from the kitchen into the living room. Yoongi has refilled his wine glass and stops just in front of Jungkook and bows his head in greeting. You rush to the two boys, joining them in this awkward encounter.

“Oh, I invited Yoongi.” You begin to explain, “You remember Yoongi, right?” you ask Jungkook.

“Of course…” Jungkook tries smiling but it’s tense and strained. At this, Yoongi smirks.

Yoongi steps closer to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder and he smiles at Jungkook.

“I’m y/n’s plus one tonight—or I guess her…date?”

“D-Date?” You and Jungkook both stutter out.

Yoongi brings you in closer, nice and snug against his shoulder as he chuckles.

“Something like that.”

Jungkook tries releasing a breath but finds it to be troublesome. He looks at you with an expression you cannot really decipher, but he doesn’t look all too pleased.

“That’s nice.” He finally says, scratching the back of his neck.

“What’s nice?” It’s a smooth and silky voice. Vanessa. “Happy birthday babe.” She joins your circle next to Jungkook and places a kiss on his cheek.

“Right…” you butt in, “Happy birthday Jungkook.” You smile, still in Yoongi’s arms.

“What do you want to do first?” Vanessa links arms with Jungkook and you feel your body go tense. You don’t want her to touch him.

“Eat.” Jungkook laughs, “I’m so hungry.”

“Well, we have pizza for everyone.” You say loudly, getting the rest of everyone’s attention.

“You say pizza? Hell yeah.” Trina walks towards you four with Holly following behind her.

“Oh hey Trina…” Jungkook says, not entirely too sure how to talk to the girl that hates him.

“Hey Jungkook,” she says quickly with a smile, “So where’s the pizza?”

Jungkook and you share a look of pleasant surprise. Trina? Being nice?

The rest of the boys follow and you all head inside the kitchen to snag a few slices of pizza from the pizzeria that Jungkook is fond of. Vanessa stays close to Jungkook’s side, not that you are surprised. But what is surprising you is that Yoongi has suddenly become slightly more affectionate with you?

Yoongi takes any chance he can get to touch you in some way, whether it be picking a piece of thread off your shirt, or placing a wild strand of hair behind your ear. He doesn’t really strike you as the type to be so openly affectionate…at least not the one to initiate it.

But can picking a piece of thread off your shirt really be counted as affectionate? Maybe he’s just trying to help. What you don’t know though…Jungkook has picked up on too. He has watched as Yoongi smiles at you and you smile back, he has watched as Yoongi subtlety touches your arm when he talks to you and how your hand finds his shoulder when you laugh.

Jungkook sits on his couch, chowing down on a slice of pizza as he glares at you and Yoongi. He doesn’t mean to glare but why is he here? This is a small get together between close friends. How close have you and Yoongi gotten?

“And then bro, I was like no fucking way bro.” Alien bro talks animatedly, his hands motioning all around the place.

Nick stuffs another slice of pizza in his mouth, nodding along to Alien bro’s story.

“That is fucking wild.” You hear Trina pitch in, “Like, did that really happen to you?”

“It may have been a dream, but let me tell you…” Alien bro closes his eyes, “I think it was real, like a memory.”

You internally laugh, because this dude has got some wild fucking stories and you don’t know how to take him seriously. But everyone seems to be enjoying it.

“Let’s do cake!” You hear Jimin yell out, “I have such a sweet tooth right now.”

At this you see Vanessa actually light up, like she has been waiting all night for someone to mention the cake. You two agreed she could present it to Jungkook, maybe that’s why she’s so visibly excited.

“I’ll go get it…” She speaks up, “I’ll be right back.” She says, facing Jungkook. Vanessa stands from her spot next to Jungkook on the couch and heads towards the kitchen.

A few minutes pass by when you hear your name being called. You get up and walk to the kitchen when you see Vanessa with the cake in her hands, the candles already lit up.

“Can you turn off the lights?” she asks, “And you can start the Birthday song.”

You nod your head, walking back into the living room to switch the lights off.

“Okay, ready Jungkook?” you smile at him and he rolls his eyes with a smirk.

“I guess.” He says, amusement laced in his voice.

“Happy birthday to you!” you begin singing, the rest of the gang joins in and the living room is soon being filled with the sound of everyone’s voices singing Jungkook a happy birthday. You pull out your phone and begin recording, Vanessa walks in with the cake and she keeps her face neutral. She doesn’t even sing, wow. You can’t help but kind of laugh, that’s so in character for her.

“Happy birthday dear Juuuungkoook, Happy birthday to you!” You all finish up and start whooping and hollering.

“Make a wish.” Vanessa sets the cake down in front of him and Jungkook nods his head. He takes a deep breath before his eyes find yours. You guys share a brief moment before he’s blowing out his candles.

“What did you wish for?!” Hobi asks, excitement filling the room as everyone agrees that they want to know.

“Secret.” He says, still looking at you.

“Here,” Vanessa nudges a perfectly wrapped box in Jungkook’s hands, “Present.”

“You didn’t have to Vanessa.” Jungkook grins at her but he’s already unwrapping his gift, he throws the wrapping paper to the floor and takes a look at the cologne box.

“This is so expensive!” he whines, “But thank you!” He looks at you for a moment when he awkwardly pecks Vanessas lips in front of everyone.

“My turn!” Jimin shouts, “My turn, my turn!” he stands up and walks by the front door where he left the gift. He picks up the bag and walks back into the living room, standing in front of Jungkook, handing him the bag.

“You’ll love it.” Jimin wiggles his brows at the boy.

Jungkook wiggles his brows back as he opens up the bag and pulls out a black hoodie.

“Fuck yeah.” Jungkook stands up to hug Jimin, “This one is so soft.”

The rest of the gang gives Jungkook a gift one by one until all eyes are on you. Suddenly, you feel super fucking shy and lame that you got matching bracelets.

“Uh, I haven’t gotten anything for you yet…” you lie. “But I will soon, promise.”

Jungkook’s bunny smile begins to fade as he processes your words,

“No worries, y/n.” he smiles again, “You don’t have to get me anything.”

“It’s just a little late, is all.” You shift awkwardly from one foot to another. You wish you weren’t such an idiot. You notice Jimin staring at you from across the room, he looks disappointed.

“What about the bracelets y/n?” Vanessa’s voice can be heard by everyone. She looks at you with a blank expression and you never wanted to strangle someone more.

“What bracelets?” Jungkook’s curiosity showing.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. They’re friendship bracelets. Such a sweet idea.” Vanessa smiles at you.

“You got me and you friendship bracelets?” Jungkook stands up and walks to you, he extends his right hand out and waits expectantly.

“Thanks Vanessa.” You deadpan.

“No problem.”

“It’s really nothing Jungkook…”

“I want the damn bracelet y/n.”

You stare at him for a moment, his big doe eyes making you feel like you must give in.

“okay, they’re in my bag…” you turn around and search for your purse. You notice Yoongi trying to hand it you and you smile at him gratefully.

“Here.” You hand him his bracelet and he inspects it, rolling it through his fingers.

“Your initial?” Jungkook clenches the bracelet in his fist and looks up at you.

“I fucking love it.” He brings the bracelet to his heart, “I will wear it every day.”

“I have one too…” you pull it from your bag and dangle in around.

“It has a J?” Jungkook bunny smile grows ten times as wide. He takes the bracelet from your fingers and chuckles at the two bracelets.

“I love it.”

“I’m glad you like it—”

“No, love it. I love…” Then he’s clearing his throat, remembering he is in a room full of people.

“Thank you.”

“Oh! There’s one more thing…” you pull out the key chain and you watch as Jungkook’s face lights up. Of course he is more excited about the key chain, you laugh.

“Fucking awesome!” Jungkook takes it from you, “I’ll put it on my keys!”

“That’s the idea,” you chuckle. “Anyway, let’s play games now.”

You and Jungkook stand at the front of the living room, in front of the T.V in battle mode.

“You’re going down Jeon.” You snicker at him, he only rolls his eyes at you as he readies himself.

“I’m just glad I’m not going against Jimin.” Jungkook shoots Jimin a look and Jimin winks.

You two have to chug an entire beer can, trying to beat the other.

“Honestly, same.” You admit, if anyone can down a drink in seconds—it’s Jimin.

Trina stands up and joins your side,

“Okay, are we ready everyone?”

Everyone begins cheering, the sound motivating you and making you feel excited.

“Okay. When I yell…BAM…you start drinking and don’t stop until that can is empty…got it?”

“Yes, we know how to chug a drink, Trina.”

“Damn girl, I was just sayin’.” Trina throws a hand on her hip, “Okay, 3…2…1…BAM!”

You and Jungkook scramble to start drinking, the chilly liquid making its way down your throats. The drink is cold and carbonated and you’re trying to ignore the way it sizzles, instead pretending it’s as smooth as water and you down it back.

“Jungkook is going to win!” Namjoon yells out, he has risen to his feet, the excitement too much.

“No, y/n is! Look how much her head it tilting back!” You hear Jin chime in.

Truth is, you aren’t really sure how much you’ve drank, or how much is left! You’re just wanting it to be over!

“Holy shit, they’re both so close!”

“Broooooooo”

And right as you’re about to finish your drink you hear the sound of a can being crushed right next to you. He won.

“WHAT’S UP…LOSER!” Jungkook shakes his empty, crushed can in your face as you finally finish your own drink.

“Okay, okay. Literally only let you win because it’s your birthday.” You snide playfully.

“Sure y/n, sure.” Jungkook grins down at you, his laughter bounces off the walls and you feel so whole when you hear the sound. He leans forward until his arms are wrapped around you in a quick yet loving hug.

“Whatever you got to say to yourself…loser.” He chuckles out, letting go of you.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Your pout is so cute, Jungkook thinks.

Yoongi stands up, his gummy smile lighting up the room as he approaches you two. He stands next to you and asks if you’re alright.

“You’ve already had so much to drink, I’m just making sure you can make it back to the sofa.” Yoongi’s shoulders shake as he laughs.

“She can handle herself.” You hear Jungkook say in a somewhat serious tone, “She knows how to drink.” He tries to say a little more lightly.

“But she doesn’t really have to do the penalty, right?” Yoongi asks.

“No, I definitely do.” You laugh out, “Where’s the shot, huh?”

Jungkook gives you a silly looking smirk as he heads towards the kitchen to fetch you that shot. He’s only gone for a moment when you realize he has returned with the liquid of fire.

“For you, princess.”

You roll your eyes at his little nick name he’s given you but you cannot help the blush that creeps on your cheeks…

“Please…please.” You pant, rolling your hips into his as you meet his desperate thrusts.

“Please what, princess?” he breathes out heavily, “Told you that when you’re with—” He begins fucking into you faster, “When you’re with me…to use your words.” His pace is bruising, causing you to choke on the air around you.

The little nick name causing you to remember something you have tied burying.

“I think you should take one too, since it is your birthday after all.” You tease.

“But I’m the winner…” Jungkook pouts, his bottom lip jutting out so far.

“Come on, I bet you won’t.” Jimin pipes in.

“Yeah dude.” You hear Nick say.

“FINE!” Jungkook throws his hands up in defeat, “But you have to go pour it for me.” He says, looking at you.

“Done deal, baby.”

“Pour me one too.” Vanessa walks up to you, her strap on her shoulder sliding down.

“Oh?” you ask, but you nod your head in approval and head towards the kitchen to pour two more shots.

You return with the shots, but feel your stomach drop when you see Jungkook and Vanessa laughing together, her hand laying on his chest, his arm wrapped around her waist.

“Oh!” Jungkook looks at you and smiles, “The shots!”

“Yeah…”

And then Min Yoongi is at your side with his own shot, he looks at you and gives you a sweet smile and eyes full of understanding.

“Let’s take them.” He says. His hand going to yours, he squeezes it tight and you feel yourself trying to breathe.

“Here you go.” You hand the two shots to Jungkook and Vanessa, they take them and you four look at one another before raising your glasses.

“Happy birthday, Jungkook.” You whisper, taking the shot.

Hours pass, and things are starting to wind down, you think. Jin, Namjoon and Hobi are at the front door saying their goodbyes and you feel your time is coming soon too.

“Us too.” Trina says, “Our uber is almost here.” Her and Holly gather their things and make their way out the door.

“Jimin, you coming with us?” Trina asks.

“Um, what about you y/n?” Jimin makes it to your side, his hand going to rub your shoulder.

“You guys go without me, I’m going to help clean up. Hostess duties!” You salute towards your friends and they giggle.

“Okay babe, I’ll see you soon?” Jimin goes in for a tight hug and you hug him back even tighter.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll help you clean up.” Yoongi offers, but you shake your head.

“No, I couldn’t ask that. Me and Vanessa got it. You go home too, it’s so late. I will come by to see you soon though.”

“Are you sure?” Yoongi asks as he catches Jungkook watching you two. “Well, if you insist y/n.” he inches towards you and to your surprise, you feel his lips leave a small kiss on your cheek. Yoongi smirks when he sees Jungkook react. Jungkook glares at the boy and Yoongi feels like hopefully he helped enough tonight.

“What was that for?” you feel yourself turn red.

“Nothing.” He whispers before he’s turning around and walking out of the door.

You are left here shocked and confused but you cannot help but smile at Yoongi’s small gesture. He really is too sweet.

“Well,” you turn around to face Jungkook and Vanessa, “Let’s clean up,” you say to Vanessa, “And then I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Actually,” Vanessa curls her lips upwards, “I am feeling quite tired.” Her eyes find yours, “So maybe Jungkook can help you clean up.”

“You’re going home already?” Jungkook looks confused. He was probably expecting birthday sex or some shit.

“Mhm.” She breathes out easily, “See you later babe.” She leans over and pecks his cheek, you immediately twist your head to look away. Vanessa notices and she fucking smiles that sly ass smile. “See you later, y/n.”

And with that she is out of the apartment, leaving just you and Jungkook and Nick and Alien Bro.

“We will be out on the balcony smoking, if you guys want to join.” Nick offers to you, but you’re shaking your head no.

“Nah, you guys enjoy.” Jungkook says. Nick and Alien bro (You really got to learn this dudes name) are opening the back door and leaving you guys for the balcony.

“And then there was two.” Jungkook jokes, he chews on his lips as he watches you begin the cleaning up process. You get a large black trash bag and start throwing away the empty beer bottles and other trash around the living room and kitchen.

“Help me clean, birthday boy.”

Jungkook grins at you and starts helping, he’s gathering the shot glasses and setting them in the kitchen sink. You two work like this for around 10-15 minutes when the place is finally looking like his apartment again.

“Well, I guess that’s it.” You set the last trash bag in the kitchen, “You and Nick can take these out later, right?” “Yes, y/n. You did enough, I swear.” Jungkook smiles at you. “Hey, where’s your bracelet?” he dangles his wrist around, showing you his.

“Oh…” You dig around in your pockets until you finally find the piece of jewelry.

“Let me.” Jungkook stands closer to you, reaching his hand out, expecting you to hand over the bracelet. You place it in his hand and he grabs your wrist and clips the bracelet on.

“There.” He breathes out, “Never take it off.” He half jokes.

“You really like it?”

“I really love it.” Jungkook pulls you in for a hug, but he’s letting go much faster than you would like.

“Wanna chill for a bit?” He asks you, his hands still on your arms from your hug that you just shared.

“For a bit, sure.”

You two walk to the living room sofa and plop down, the long day finally catching up to you. It’s around 1 am now, you’ve been running around all day.

“So…” Jungkook looks at you with an unreadable expression, “What’s going on with you and this Yoongi guy?”

“What do you mean?”

“Was tonight like, a date for you two?”

“What? No?”

“Really? Could of fooled me and like, everyone else.”

“He was just joking…I think.” You groan into your hands, and laugh. “Why?”

“I was just wondering.” He turns to face forward, his face hardening as he thinks. “Is he going to be like, your boyfriend?”

“What?!” you choke on your spit, “Yoongi is my friend.”

“Does he know that?” Jungkook continues to look forward, “He was all over you.”

“He definitely was not all over me. Oh my god. What are you getting so crazy for?”

Crazy. That’s the word you use, but he knows you mean jealous. Jungkook sits here, biting on his bottom lip. He has to admit, he doesn’t like this ‘crazy’ feeling. He feels like he’s suffocating just remembering you with Yoongi tonight. He has no right to feel crazy or jealous. He has a girlfriend for fucks sake!

“I just hope he’s treating you right.”

“He’s just a friend Jungkook. But you know what? And if he was trying to date me?”

Jungkook feels his chest tighten, not liking the idea already.

“Then like I said, I hope he’s treating you right.” He says more softly, turning to look at you again.

“Did you enjoy your birthday?”

“It was nice, thank you.”

“What’s your favorite birthday in your life so far?”

Jungkook tilts his head as he thinks, rocking it side to side. He folds his arms behind his head and lets out a long breath.

“There’s two I can think of.” He says, “When I was 10 all I wanted to do was see one of those drive thru zoo things. But I wasn’t expecting much because I guess birthdays and holidays were stressful for my parents…” he takes a deep breath, “they always fought so much and so I didn’t think we would be doing anything for my birthday at all. But they for once, they got along this day. They took me to the zoo and I just remember being so on edge like something may go wrong…but it never did, it was a perfect day.”

“I bet 10 year old Jungkook was so cute.”

“I was the cutest!”

“And what’s the second?”

“Sophomore year of college.” He states quickly making you choke on air. Really? That birthday of all birthdays?

“Jungkook, there has to be a better one than that…” you begin, “We literally didn’t even do anything.”

It seemed everyone happened to become busy the day of Jungkook’s birthday, everyone except you. You and Jungkook spent the day just the two of you in his dorm room watching movies and playing video games. You didn’t even buy him a present, much too broke!

“That day meant a lot to me.” Jungkook explains, “You didn’t leave my side, no matter what.”

“Well, you were my best friend.”

“And now?” Jungkook turns his head to face you, “Am I your best friend now?”

“Jungkook…” you caress his thigh, “Of course.”

Jungkook throws his head back as he smiles that bunny smile and you can’t help but giggle.

“Were you worried?”

“So worried.” He continues to laugh, “You’re my best friend too.”

~~~~~

October

“I don’t know guys!” you whine, bringing the cup of coffee in for a sip. “Marketing…can someone even be passionate about that?”

“What did I say y/n? You’re so concerned if you’re passionate or not, why don’t you start off small—finding something you just like.” Yoongi offers his piece of advice but you groan.

“What do you think Tae?” you point your head in his direction, “Wait, I am asking one of the most passionate people I know.” You complain.

“I agree with Yoongi, y/n.” Taehyung says, he drinks his water in gulps.

“Of course, who wouldn’t agree with Yoongi?” You hit your head on the table a few times.

You three are seated in Yoongi’s record shop in the cozy corner of the store, discussing the burden of dreams.

“I mean, guys.” You begin, “I don’t want to be making cookies forever.”

“But I really like them.” Yoongi whispers.

“Me too,” Taehyung says as he shoves a sugar cookie down his throat. “So good.”

“Guys, you aren’t helping.”

“Honestly y/n…” Yoongi stands from his seat to get some more coffee, “Stop trying to force a dream to happen. It will come to you naturally, just trust in that.”

“You make it sound so easy.” You hand Taehyung another cookie and he takes it with a grin.

“So y/n…” Taehyung swallows down the last bits of the cookie before he’s turning to face you in his chair, “How was Jungkook’s birthday, I forgot to ask.”

“It went really well actually.”

“Why do you say ‘actually’?” Taehyung laughs, “Were you expecting it to go bad?”

“It’s not that…I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Is it because of Vanessa?” Yoongi comes back with two fresh coffees.

“Maybe.”

“That’s his girlfriend, right? I just don’t get it. Should we come up with an evil plan to break them up?” Taehyung snickers.

“Tae, chill.” You giggle.

“I’m joking but I am also totally serious.” He comments. “Anyway guys, I gotta head back to the museum. But same time next week?”

“You know it.” You blow on your hot coffee, waving him goodbye.

The last few weeks the three of you meet up for coffee (Tae usually brings his own drink of choice, says coffee is too bitter for him) and chit chat just like now. It’s an interesting group but you feel comfortable. After time has passed, forgiving and moving on from Taehyung’s crushing you has gotten easier and now you even find his friendship to be quite valuable. You guess they weren’t kidding when they say time heals all wounds.

“Are you two ever going to tell me what happened between you? You were so tense when he first started hanging out.” Yoongi says, observant as usual.

“I will. But another day,” you smile.

“No rush.” Yoongi drinks his coffee slowly, “Whenever you’re ready.”

“By the way, did it work?” Yoongi asks between sips.

You can’t help but raise your brows in question,

“Did what work?”

“Did Jungkook say anything? About being jealous?” He gives you a smirk.

“What are you talk—wait, were you purposely trying to be affectionate with me to see if Jungkook would get a rise out of it?” You ask, completely shocked. That seems almost out of character for Yoongi!

“I tried. I’m a little awkward being the first to show affection, “ he admits, “But for you, my friend, I was willing to try.” He gives you a shy smile and you feel your heart race.

“Yoongi—”

“You really don’t even have to answer because I know the truth. I could see it on his face, but I was curious if he said anything to you.”

You think back to Jungkook’s birthday and well…he technically did say something to you. He was being a little crazy (jealous) but you cannot understand why. Jungkook is your friend and not to mention he has a girlfriend.

“Sorry to disappoint Yoongs, but he did not.” You decide to say.

“Did you know you avoid all eye contact when you want to lie.” Yoongi takes another sip of his coffee, his sly smile telling you he knows the truth.

“Jeez, why do you pick up on things so quickly?!” you groan, “I can’t even tell one little nothing lie in front of you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t try to lie to me then.” He laughs. “So what did he say?”

“He just—I don’t know. He just…wanted to know what was up with you basically.”

Yoongi opens his mouth to say ‘Ah’ and then continues to drink his coffee.

“He’s not going to be rude to you or anything!” you quickly say, “he’s just a little protective over me, is all.”

“Oh? That’s all?” Yoongi teases.

“Hey…” you set your cup down and fold your hands in your lap, “What makes you think Jungkook feels the same way?”

Yoongi breathes out slowly, his fingers tapping against his mug when he looks up at you and smiles.

“There’s an obvious tension between you two, “ he starts, “The way he looks at you. That honestly gave everything away. His eyes always find you, no matter what.” Yoongi quietly chuckles, “The way he’s threatened by me. He doesn’t even try to hide it.” Yoongi thinks for a moment, “And…you two, the way you are together…god, it’s like watching two people who are in a relationship but don’t know they’re in a relationship.”

“What—what do you mean by that?” you pry further. Curious about your own dynamic with Jungkook that maybe even you can’t see.

“I don’t know like, you guys act like boyfriend and girlfriend already!” he laughs, “That’s when I knew I didn’t stand a chance.”

“Yoongi…”

“It’s okay,” his gummy smile lights up his whole face, “being your friend has been so much more rewarding.”

You feel yourself smile at his words…although, you do feel bad. But keeping a friend like Yoongi around has been amazing. And maybe if you weren’t already in love with someone else…no, you shouldn’t even think that, that’s not fair.

“Thanks Yoongs.”

~~~~~~

“We need to talk.”

Jimin is shoving his way through Jungkook’s front door, his hair pushed back in frustration like his fingers have been running through it for hours.

“Jesus man, it’s like 8 in the fucking morning.” Jungkook’s low, groggy voice booms from his chest.

“This couldn’t wait. I have to be at work at 9 and I’ve been up all night with the same one thing on my mind.” Jimin takes off his shoes and makes his way to the couch.

“And what’s that?” Jungkook asks, clearly annoyed.

“You need to tell y/n how you feel.” Jimin decides to go with the straight forward approach, he does not have the time to beat around the bush today.

Jungkook closes the door and swings around to face Jimin,

“Huh?”

“Listen man, I’ve been racking my brain about it all fucking night. It’s got to be you. You have to do it, she won’t.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Grow the fucking balls, man!” Jimin sits back on the sofa, his head falling into the cushion.

“Look dude, I don’t know what you—”

“You’re in love with her, you have been since freshmen year. You guys fucked, I know. She didn’t talk to you for however long, I know that too. But come on man, it’s so clear how you both feel.”

Jungkook continues to stand here, not knowing what to say. Where is all this coming from?

“I have a girlfriend, Jimin.”

“Oh please, give me a fucking break.” Jimin stands up, walking towards Jungkook. “There is almost zero chemistry between you two. Like emotional chemistry…I don’t know what your sex life is like…” Jimin holds up a hand, “And I don’t want to know.”

“Wasn’t going to tell you anyway,” Jungkook pouts. “Listen, how can you be so sure y/n would even feel the same way?”

“Can’t you just fucking trust me?” Jimin yells out, exasperated.

“Did she say the words Jimin?” Jungkook becomes very serious, making Jimin shudder. “Did she tell you she has feelings for me?” his dark eyes pierce into Jimin’s.

Jimin looks down at the ground, feeling defeated.

“You know I can’t tell you that.” Jimin finally says, “You just have to have the courage man. Are you really going to go your whole life not telling her? Why torture yourself like that?”

Jungkook stands here feeling so lost, and fucking emotional. Like, he could god damn cry about it.

“Because,” Jungkook sniffles into his sleeve. “It’s guaranteed she would be in my life. I can’t risk losing her. I couldn’t handle that man…” Jungkook begins to choke up.

Jimin walks closer to Jungkook and pulls him in for a tight hug, Jungkook keeps his arms to his side.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Jimin whispers.

“I think though…that there will be a moment where you finally have the courage…”

“I don’t know.”

“You will, Jungkook. When the timing is right…but I don’t know when that is for you two.”

“I really do love her…” Jungkook allows a few tears to slip from his closed eyes into Jimin’s shoulder. “I’m so frustrated like, all the time.” He admits, “Seeing her, talking to her, I just want to tell her how I feel. I hate how hard I have to try just to stay in the zone of friendship. But you don’t understand the risk…” Jungkook leans back, pulling away from Jimin. “If she doesn’t feel the same, I could lose her.” His puffy eyes avoid Jimin. “Can I handle a loss like that again?”

“But she…” Jimin has to bite his tongue…seeing his two best friends like this hurts his heart beyond belief.

“Yeah, I understand.” Jimin decides to say, “But I think you might be surprised.”

Jungkook pulls his brows together, his face scrunching up and he scoffs.

“Maybe, but maybe not.”

“I’m sorry to bring this all on you so early in the morning…I’ve just been so worried about you two…” Jimin starts to put his shoes back on.

“Maybe you could stay until you really need to leave for work? You still go like 45 minutes, right?” Jungkook practically begs with sad, soft eyes.

“Sure.” Jimin takes his shoes back off and grabs a hold of Jungkook’s shoulder, “Let’s sit down for a while.”

The two boys head to the couch and take a seat, leaving little space between them. Jungkook needs the presence of another human being right now, he needs to feel real live warmth. Jimin wishes he could mend Jungkook’s cracked heart but he knows only you can do that. But Jimin can try his best. The two sit in comfortable silence, the only sound that can be heard is Jungkook’s light sniffling and Jimin humming a soft tune.

“It’s almost 9.” Jimin mentions regretfully.

“I know. Thanks for staying for a bit.”

“Of course.” Jimin rises from the couch, “You guys are my best friends but you two sure are fucking idiots.” He smiles and makes his way to leave.

~~~~~~

Bored. So fucking bored. Trina and Holly went out for dinner tonight and you were not invited! You kind of wonder what’s going on between them…but that’s a thought for another day, right now you are so fucking bored.

It’s Friday night and you don’t know what to do with yourself. Jimin has some party he’s going to tonight but you didn’t really feel like going so you rejected his invitation, Jin and the guy’s invited you over for a cookout but you said no because you didn’t feel like driving all the way to Jin’s place—you know, lazy.

And you haven’t heard from Jungkook all day so he’s probably tired from work or worse—with Vanessa. But would it hurt to try? To see what he’s up to?

y/n 9:04pm

Jungkook 9:10pm

y/n 9:12pm

Whatcha up to tonight?

Jungkook 9:13pm

Nothing really, you?

y/n 9:13pm

nothing either…

y/n 9:13pm

Wanna have a movie night with some wine?

Jungkook 9:20pm

Sure:)

Jungkook 9:23pm

Lemme guess, I have to bring the wine

y/n 9:23pm

Bingo!

Jungkook 9:50pm

I’m almost there

Not even 5 minutes later you hear your door being knocked on, and you yell a ‘come in’. Jungkook pushes the door open and finds you sitting on the couch wrapped up in your favorite blanket. He shuts the door behind him, and walks to the kitchen for some wine glasses. You two only nod at one another in greeting, getting comfortable in each others presence.

“I brought 2 bottles,” Jungkook says, “One for you, one for me.”

“Wow, you’re so smart.” You smile up at him and his heart clenches in his chest. Your smile is so special, it’s so soft and so fucking pretty he almost cannot handle it.

“Y-Yeah.” He sets the glasses down on the table that sits in front of the sofa. “What movie do you have in mind?”

“You can choose.”

“Iron Man?” “No, not that.”

“Fine.” He pouts, “Let’s find something new on Netflix.”

An hour into some random drama, you find yourself getting sleepy.

“Wakey wakey.” You feel Jungkook’s breath on your ear, you open your eyes a little wider to prove your consciousness.

“I am awake…hey,” you suddenly get an idea, “Remember a little while ago you said you felt like our friendship kind of started over?”

“Hm? Yeah?”

“Would if we do?”

“I don’t get it?” Jungkook asks clearly confused.

“Let’s play a game! Of getting to know each other better. Everything out on the table.” You say with a pleased smile, obviously loving your own idea.

“hmmmmm…” Jungkook wraps his blanket closer around his body, “Sure.”

“Yay! I’ll pull out a list of questions from the internet.” You get your phone and google a list of questions. “You ready?” you say with a wink.

“I guess so.” He playfully shrugs his shoulders and shows you a small smile.

“Okay one…What’s your favorite way to spend a day off?”

“hmm…sleeping in, working out, playing video games, making videos, sleeping some more, hanging out with you.”

“Wow, honored.” You tease. “For me, it’s sleeping all day.”

“That’s it? That’s your whole answer?” Jungkook giggles.

“What type of music are into to?”

“y/n…” Jungkook whines, “You already know these answers…”

“We’re pretending we don’t!”

“Fine, I like almost all genres but I really prefer ballads.”

“I like music with meaningful lyrics,” you say.

“I agree.” Jungkook grins at you.

“Next…Do you have a favorite holiday. Why or why not?”

Jungkook nibbles on his lips as he thinks…is he honest?

“I use to hate holidays.” He admits softly, slightly slurring thanks to the wine, “But now it’s Christmas and New Year’s. And why? Both reasons are because of you.”

You feel your cheeks become warmer and probably pinker.

“Mine too.” You say quickly, “Next,” you are in a rush to change the subject. “Do you want a family of your own?”

“One day, yes. With the right person…”

“I’m the same.” You scroll through the questions, “If you had only one sense…hearing, touch, sight, etc, which would you want?”

“Touch. Imagine not being able to feel things?” Jungkook asks, he thinks about not being able to feel the soft touch of sheets on a bed, the feel of your hair between his fingers, your skin, your lips—wait, he needs to chill. “Yeah, touch.”

“Really? I would choose sight.” You say, “Who do you admire most in this world?”

“Mom.” Jungkook whispers, “She was so strong, she went through so much yet still found the strength to love me.”

“You.” Your hand finds Jungkook’s, you hold on to him softly, “My answer is you.”

“y/n…” Jungkook leans into your side, “Thank you.”

You clear you throat and continue scrolling through your phone, looking for the next question.

“If you found out today is your last day on Earth, what would you do?”

“Exactly what I’m doing right now.”

“Honestly? Me too.” You whisper, you feel your heart beginning to race as you and Jungkook admit that if it were your last day, you would spend it together. Somehow the thought almost seems romantic to you…that’s obviously your imagination but you can dream.

“What’s the last thing you do at night?”

Jungkook wiggles his brows at you and you hit his arm, laughing.

“Gross.” You giggle. “Something besides that.”

“What? You think it’s gross to mast—”

“Don’t!” you yell out laughing. “Don’t be gross.”

“Everyone does it y/n…I bet even you.” Jungkook voice goes low. “in fact, I have a question for you.” Jungkook scoots closer to you, “When was the last time you got yourself off?” your eyes go wide, “It’s not like you’re seeing anyone…unless you and Yoon—”

“No!” You begin to panic, “I’m not seeing anyone, you’re right.”

Jungkook releases a long breath and he smiles, “Thought so.” Then he’s scooting even closer to you.

“How do you touch yourself y/n?” He slurs out, “With your fingers only? Perhaps you use a vibrator?”

You push your head back in shock, there’s no way in hell Jungkook just asked you that? Is he drunk? Barely.

“Why do you want to know that?” you scoot a little closer to him too.

“Best friends know this type of stuff about each other all the time, don’t they?”

“Not really…but I’ll play. I use both.”

Jungkook raises a brow in amusement, he bites on his bottom lip as his smirks at you.

“You own a vibrator?” Jungkook chuckles darkly, “How come I didn’t know?”

“Why would I tell you that?”

“I bet Jimin knows.”

“Fine, he does.”

Jungkook narrows his eyes at you as he tries to hold in his slight laughter, his hand comes to his mouth and he chuckles into it.

“Thought so…when’s the last time you used it?”

“Last night before bed.”

“So, it’s the last thing you did at night?” Jungkook points his finger at you knowingly and you can’t help but laugh.

“Okay, I see where this is going. Fine, I get. We all masturbate. It’s completely normal and not gross and a totally valid answer for something you do before bed.” You throw your hands up as you giggle.

“Thank you.” Jungkook knees touch yours as he scoots just an inch closer, “But I wasn’t trying to make a point, I was genuinely curious about you.” He admits in a deep voice and you squeeze your thighs together, an action that does not go unnoticed by him. His eyes land to your lap and he chuckles. His voice is so low and inviting as he speaks, “Are you curious about me too?”

“What do you mean?”

“About when’s the last time I—”

“Fine, when’s the last time?” you ask lightly.

“Right before I came here.” He admits easily.

“Interesting.”

You and Jungkook stare at one another for what feels like at least an hour but in reality probably seconds. But his dark gaze is so raw and powerful, you find yourself leaning into his space.

“The last time I used my vibrator was yes, last night. But the last time I touched myself was tonight. Before you arrived.”

Jungkook nods his head in understanding, or maybe it’s approval? Either way he nods his head as a sly smile creeps on his lips.

“Can I ask you what you thought about?” Even Jungkook widens his eyes in surprise as he asks that. Where did that confidence come from? “Sorry that’s TMI.” He quickly rushes to say, not wanting to really hear your answer because he shouldn’t know what you fantasize about especially if he’s not in said fantasies.

You lean your head back and snicker. You wish you had the fucking courage to tell him the truth. Him. You thought about him.

In your fantasy his head was between your legs, licking you up and making you squirm. He would moan into your greedy cunt, basking in your juices. God, you can just picture it now. His mouth and nose covered in you, the shine on his face evidence of how well he’s eaten you. His fingers still buried inside you as he lifts his head up to smirk down at you, his hair a fucking mess from how much you have tugged on it.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t thinking about it right now and getting so heavily turned on. Your chest heaves just a little more than usual, and there’s an ache between your legs that you wish Jungkook would soothe. Your fantasy of him going down on you? You took that straight from your memories.

“Not going to say anything?” Jungkook leans in a little closer.

“Sorry, just thinking.”

“About…?”

“You.”

Jungkook’s eyes expand as he processes what you just say until—

“Wait, wait. That came out wrong.” Your hands scramble to hold on to his shoulders. “I mean, I was thinking about you. But not like that.” You lie. Because you have to lie.

“Oh…right, that makes sense.” Jungkook visibly deflates at your confession.

“Anyway, yeah. That’s a TMI for sure.” You laugh awkwardly and Jungkook leans back away from you.

“For sure.” Jungkook leans back on the sofa, “So, what’s the next question?”

“Ever had a threesome?” you ask from your own brain.

“You already know I have.”

“With two girls or with another guy…?”

“Two girls.”

“Would you ever with another guy?”

“Maybe if it’s with a girl that doesn’t mean something to me…but if it’s with someone I care about, probably not. I think I may be too possessive. Don’t wanna share.”

“Ah, I see.”

“What about you?”

“I would do both.” You admit. “Sounds like fun…”

“It is fun,” Jungkook laughs, “But there’s something special about just being with one person, if it’s special…”

“Have you ever had sex with someone special?”

“Yes.”

Oh. Jungkook’s never been in a serious relationship since you’ve known him so you weren’t expecting him to answer that with a yes…but he is with Vanessa now. So obviously…

“I see.”

“What’s the next question?”

“I’m looking up a new list. It’s kind of sexy, is that okay?”

“A list of dirty questions? I’m down.” Jungkook smirks and you feel the heat between your legs grow.

“Okay the first one is asking if you’re a virgin and I think the whole town knows the answer to that…”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?!”

You laugh out, “Nothing, nothing.” Then continue scrolling, “Okay, opinion on shower sex?”

“Hmm, I’ve done, and I will do it again.”

“For me, it’s a little uncomfortable but I’ll do it,” you say, “boob or butt guy?”

“Fuck. Both of them, can I say both?” Jungkook pleads and you giggle.

“Sure, both.” Your eyes light up when you find the next question. “Oooh. What is your most embarrassing sex story?”

“Oh god…okay. When I was in high school I was getting head from this girl…”

“Uh huh…and then?”

“We got caught by our teacher and that’s a total mood killer right?”

“Right?”

“Well, when the teacher was scolding me I popped another boner. And I was wearing sweats so it was super obvious and she was trying so hard not to make it obvious. But I don’t know, my body betrayed me.”

“You got hard from getting scolded?”

“Apparently.”

You burst out into giggles, the story absolutely killing you. Who does that? Who pops a boner from getting scolded…by their fucking teacher?

“Your turn, your turn.”

“Okay…one time I was giving head…”

“Uh huh…and then?” he copies you.

“And I guess I swallowed his cum too fast because it shot out of my nose like milk.”

“What the fuck y/n.” Jungkook laughs out hysterically. “That’s so awesome.”

“It wasn’t awesome Jungkook, it was embarrassing.”

“Perspective.”

“In what world is someone’s perspective on this awesome?” “Mine.”

“Well, you’re fucking weird.

“Maybe so.” Jungkook continues to laugh, “What’s next?”

“Do you prefer to give or receive?”

“Who doesn’t love to receive? That’s obvious. But me? I am a giver, 100%”

And he’s right. Hence why you’re able to use the memory of him going down on you as good masturbation material.

“I see.”

“I think I am a giver too.” You look down at your phone, “But who doesn’t love to receive?”

“You do give nicely.” Jungkook whispers, “Anyway what’s the next one?”

“Do you like sexting?”

“Fucking love it. I love the dirty words and pictures.” He admits.

“Yeah, me too.”

What would it be like to be texting Jungkook throughout the work day, sending one another your dirtiest fantasies and pictures to go along with it.

“I’ll read the next one now…If I came home from work stressed, how you do you relax me?” your eyes go wide when you realize, “Wait, pretends it’s asking about someone else. So a girl you’re with comes home from work stressed, how do you relax her?”

Jungkook is quiet for a few moments, he chews on his bottom lip and breathes out heavily.

“How would I relax you? I mean, some girl?”

“Y-Yes.”

“First, I would kiss you breathless.”

“You mean her.”

“Right. I would kiss her lips over and over, taking off one article of clothing at a time, sit her down on the couch while I make my way into the kitchen…pour her a glass of her favorite wine and hand it to her. Then I would kiss down her body, telling her sweet words. How much I love her, how much I missed her today, how much she means to me. I will kiss down until I am taking off her pants along with her underwear…” “And then?” you breathe out.

“Kiss her sweet, soft skin…taste her. Taste how fucking good she tastes. Eat her out while she sips on her wine…”

“Oh nice.” You laugh a little.

“Make her come all over my tongue, getting her drunk on her orgasm.”

“And her wine.” You point out.

“Yes, both. After she comes, I will kiss back up her body and hold her.” Jungkook releases short breath after the other. “Make her feel wanted.”

“That does sound relaxing…”

“You like?”

“Yes.”

“Then maybe—”

“Next question is ‘What turns you on almost instantly?”

“Dirty talk.”

“I see.”

“What—”

“You have to answer too, remember?”

“My stomach being touched.” You admit. “How do you feel about toys?”

“Not against them, could be fun to try out.”

“I agree…how do you feel about blindfolds?”

“You answer first.” Jungkook says shyly.

“I’m into it.”

“Being blinded? Or blinding someone?”

“Both? Yes, both.”

“Fuck, me too.” He folds his arms behind him as he leans back further into the sofa.

“Both for you too?”

“Yes. It would be boring if I was only into one thing right?”

You laugh, “Yes, I think we think similarly.”

“Interesting.”

“Very.” You smile at him and he smirks, “Would you like to watch me touch myself?”

“Yes—”

“—Wait, like your partner, not me.” You both say at the same time.

“Oh, well yes.” Jungkook says again. “Watching your fingers travel down to your pussy, rubbing your clit…well, not you but you get my point.” He says, his breathing becoming heavy again.

“Oh. I would also like to watch you.”

“But not me.”

“Exactly.”

“Spit or swallow?”

“I like a girl who swallows.”

“I like to swallow most times and if I don’t swallow it’s because I’m letting the guy come on my face or my tits or—”

“God damn it, y/n.” Jungkook breathes out erratically. His hand goes to his crotch as he tries to hide his growing member.

“Rough or sensual?”

“Fuck. Both, definitely both.”

“I agree. Why not both all the time?” you squeeze your thighs together again as you watch Jungkook shift uncomfortably in his seat on the couch.

“Would you let me pleasure you as you drive? I mean, your partner. Sorry it’s just the way the questions read…”

“Yes. I would.”

“Seems a bit unsafe…but I would give it a try.” You say, “Do you like your hair to be pulled?” you ask with a smirk, already knowing the answer.

“Fucking love it.” He admits between heavy breaths, “But I like to pull hair too.” He winks.

“I do too, but I prefer being the one pulling.” You wink back. “Are you quiet during sex?”

“I—I don’t know…Am I?” Jungkook looks into your eyes, and you blank. Is he actually referring to the time you two had sex? Without him getting weird? “You aren’t the quietest.” You admit, “But it’s so fucking hot.”

“Well, you definitely aren’t quiet.” He says, “Can barely touch you and you’re already whimpering out.”

“Depends who the guy is.”

“Well, when it’s with me…sorry, I shouldn’t bring that up.”

“Right…” your fingers find their way into Jungkook’s hair, “But why not?”

“y/n…” he warns and you chuckle.

“What?” you decide to play innocent. “It was so long ago, Jungkook. We should be able to talk about it by now.”

But Jungkook can’t. Because although it’s almost been 4 years, it’s still so fresh for him. Not just the feeling of being inside you but the emotional shit he was feeling too.

“I’ll tell you one thing and one thing only about that night,” Jungkook decides to say, his hand goes to yours and gently places it back in your lap. “It felt so fucking good.” He whispers out and you feel all the heat in your body rush to your aching pussy.

“Oh.” You breathe out erratically. “I guess, I would have to agree.”

“Should we sleep soon?” Jungkook leans back as he asks you this.

“Don’t you want me to share one thing about that night?”

“…Sure.”

“You…felt so…good…inside me…” you say between deep breaths.

“You felt even better, y/n.”

It’s Saturday morning, and you find yourself waking up on the couch, a big blanket draped around your body and you can’t help but snuggle into it, not wanting to get up quite yet.

On the other side of the couch is a still sleeping Jungkook, his light snores filling your ears. You two didn’t even finish your wine last night, so you are waking up hang over free. The sun is shining today, it’s rays peeking through your window blinds and you want to throw the blanket over your head to hide yourself from the brightness but you decide to actually wake up and get up instead.

You throw the blanket off your body and on to Jungkook, who gratefully takes it and cuddles deeper into the covers. You stand up and head towards the bathroom to wash up, turning on a hot shower.

You wonder what you’ll be up to today, will you stay in? Go out? Hang with the girls? By the way, did they ever come home last night? You stop by Holly’s room to find it empty. Interesting, you guess they went to Trina’s.

The shower is ready for you so you slip in and let the warm water cascade over your tired body. You shampoo, condition and wash your body, when you hear insistent knowing on the bathroom door.

“y/n!!! I gotta pee!!” Jungkook’s worried voice is heard over the running water, “That’s it, I’m coming in okay?!”

And before you can respond, you hear the door being swung open and Jungkook lifting the toilet seat lid up and releasing himself. You fucking laugh. He literally says ‘Aaahhh’ for the same amount of time he is peeing.

“Fucking finally, I thought I was going to piss myself.” He says when he’s finishing up.

“Sorry.” You reply lamely. “Shower felt too good to leave.”

“Well, hurry up so we can go get something to eat. I’m so hungry!”

“Okay, okay.” And with that, Jungkook is leaving the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

You finish washing up, stepping out of the shower and drying off. You quickly leave the bathroom in just your towel to head to your bedroom. Thankfully, Jungkook is on the couch watching some show on Netflix—too busy to notice your half naked state.

You get dressed in a rush, not wanting Jungkook to wait much longer for you. You settle for some jeans and a cute yellow shirt.

“I like yellow on you.” Jungkook says when he sees you. “Pretty.”

You are sure your cheeks are turning a nice shade of red at his compliment but you cover them with your hands to hide yourself.

“Thanks JK.”

#bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff

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amerrierworld · 3 years

Text

You’ve Caught Me

for the request: Can you do an Au where Debbie flirts and seduces reader with witty and bratty banter, but then becomes a softy and takes care of the reader?

Summary: Everything is going perfectly until Debbie encounters you on a bad day.

Characters: Debbie x gn!reader, mentions of other friends and the crew

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: moping/uncertainty in the second half~

A drink appeared in front of you from the bartender. It was brightly coloured with a slice of fruit on top. Ice clinked as it was set down on the bar. You frowned in confusion.

“I’m sorry, but I didn't order this.”

“It’s from the lady by the window seat.”

You looked over and saw a brunette making eye contact with you. She sent you a bright smile, and toasted you with her glass. There was a small party of women sitting by the window with her, a few of them eyeing your interaction with the brunette. A blonde next to her nudged her with her elbow.

Then your own friends that you were with whistled and nudged you as well once you had all seen what the lady looks like. You took a sip of the freshly delivered drink, feeling the burn of alcohol and a sweet aftertaste. It was quite delicious, honestly.

You turned back to the brunette who looked at you expectantly, and you smiled and nodded, with a toast of the drink. She winked back, and then the both of you focused back on your respective friend groups, feeling giddiness crowd your emotions from the fleeting glance you had just shared.

“Hey, doll. You nearly forgot your purse.”

You looked to see the smokey-eyed brunette standing behind you, with your purse in her hand. You must have left it at your bar seat when you got up to leave to meet your friends at the door.

“Oh,” you frowned, the alcohol you already had making you a bit drowsy. “Thanks.”

You checked everything in your purse, confident that nothing was missing, and all your change was still there. The brunette hadn’t moved from her spot.

“What, do you want a reward or something?” you asked. She smirked a little.

“No, I’ve already got one.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that then?”

“An excuse to talk to you.”

Well alright, you weren’t expecting that. You allowed yourself to look the woman up and down as you thought about your reply. She was dressed very stylishly, with long brown hair that curled and fell in all the right places. Her nails were short, which was a very welcomed discovery.

“Okay then, now you have the chance to talk to me,” you said, alcohol making you bolder than usual. “What do you have to say?”

She fully grinned this time and looked back around the bar as she spoke, “I would ask you to join me for a drink but I think you’ve already had your fill. How about some late take-out instead? On me.”

You contemplated, before saying, “I’d take the chance to go out with a hot stranger any day if I wasn’t a bit too drunk right now. Sorry.”

“Fair enough,” she replied. Then, “You think I’m hot?”

Oh, crap. Did you say that?

“Hmm.. I suppose I get very honest when I’m tipsy,” you answered. She chuckled this time, and you felt warm, and not because of the alcohol in your blood.

“Yes, quite. Should I call you a cab?”

“No, thanks. I’ve got my friends here, and one of them is the DD. We’re headed to a small party, if you’d like to come?”

She quirked an eyebrow, not expecting another offer from your end. She looked at the front doors, where your gaggle of friends were eyeing you and whispering with gleeful smirks on their faces.

The stranger leaned forward, so much so that her perfume filled your senses and wisps of brown hair brushed your face,

“A bit early to go introducing me to your friends, don’t you think?”

You barked out a laugh as she pulled back again. “Oh, you wish. None of them would probably remember you by the time the hangover hits.”

She looked down at her phone for a moment and then back at you, as if she was waiting to put in her own passcode.

“What’s your code, honey?”

You frowned. Your code? But... wait.

She was holding your phone, having nicked it from your pocket when she was so close.

“Hey!”

“Just wanna make sure you have my number. Don’t worry, I don’t steal from people I like.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Well, I said I liked you, didn’t I?”

You wordlessly put in your code for her, and she added herself to your contacts list as Hot Stranger. She smiled successfully as she handed you your phone, but a slight blush had creeped up on her cheeks.

“Careful with that. You never know who might steal it.”

You grinned and had a fleeting thought if she meant your phone or your heart. You pushed the sickeningly romantic thought away and quickly waved goodbye before hurrying back to your entourage.

Turns out Debbie was an unwavering flirt, in the beginning. She always managed to catch you off guard, and didn’t hesitate to compliment you when she felt like it.

“You know other people would think you’re being way too forward, you know?”

“Does it bother you, doll?”

You sheepishly shook your head. You liked the devotion and attention, honestly. Who wouldn't? Debbie was incredible to you. On dates, through text and, yes, in bed as well.

It all seemed like paradise.

And then there was a shift. The expected but dreaded shift in any relationship.

One night, the both of you were put to the test. There was a knock on your door, and you grumbled under your breath, preparing to yell at whoever was stupid enough to show up at your place. It was super late, you had been busy, and if anything else came up now you’d blow your top off.

“Hey?” Debbie said, her chipper expression fading away at your stormy gaze when you opened the door.

“Oh, it’s you,” you said, turning around and leaving the door open without another word. Startled, Debbie carefully stepped inside, watching you disappear into the kitchen.

“Why are you here?”

Debbie scoffed a little, “do you not want me here all of a sudden? How flattering.”

“No, of course not,” you grumbled as you grabbed a bottle of wine. Debbie came to stand just outside the kitchen, watching you as she took off her coat.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Hey, now. Don’t lie to me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you snapped. “Have some alcohol and just leave it, okay?”

You lifted one of the wine glasses to your mouth and were prepared to drink a mouthful. Then a firm hand gripped the base of it and pulled it down, spilling a bit of wine down your hand and on the kitchen floor.

Debbie’s eyes were glittering dangerously at you, and you relented in letting here take the glass away. She set it down on the counter.

“Don’t I even get a hello?”

Your eyes cast down to the floor and you muttered an apology. Debbie grasped your hand and squeezed your fingers reassuringly.

“What’s the matter?” she asked again. Your shoulders slumped this time, and you glanced at your intertwined hands.

“I’ve had a shit day,” you grumbled. You hadn’t encountered a bad mood like this with your girlfriend yet, and in the back of your mind you worried about her reaction. “I’m exhausted but I can’t sleep properly. There’s so much crap to do. It’s been so busy and I hate it.”

Debbie nodded slowly as you talked on for a bit about the things that were irritating you and how annoyed you were by everything. She noticed the bags under your eyes and the firmness of your upper lip.

“Have you eaten?” she asked after you had finished. You half-shrugged. You had some take-out, that counts right? The last full meal you had was when she took you to that restaurant last weekend.

She tutted at your non verbal response. The next few moments she rummaged through your fridge and whatever food you had lying around.

Almost immediately after there was a plate of food under your nose.

“I didn’t know you knew how to cook,” you commented.

“You learn to fend for yourself,” she replied, grabbing your wine glass from earlier and taking a swig.

“Hey, that was mine.” She blew you a kiss. It calmed you somewhat.

“Want me to stay the night?” she asked as she cleaned up your kitchen and washed the dishes. This was the first time that she asked, because usually she would stay the night regardless of anything else.

“Do you not want to?” you asked, interpreting her question as uncertainty on her end.

“What? No, of course not, baby. I’m asking because I want to make sure you want me around.”

“Of course I want you around. I always want you around,” you confessed.

Debbie helped in tidying up your place, which mostly just consisted of her doing the work and you sitting at the table, still numb. She eventually pulled you up to your feet to get you in pj’s and then to crash immediately on the couch, curled around you.

“You can turn on the tv if you need some white noise,” she suggested. It was a good idea, but the bright lights were distracting you from sleeping. So instead you turned over and burrowed into Debbie’s hold, her skin warm and soft. Now it really was paradise.

A/N: finally getting through super ancient requests yes i am here and yes i am slow :)

#debbie #debbie ocean #debbie ocean x reader #debbie ocean x you #fanfiction #merry writes #oceans 8 #ocean's eight #Sandra Bullock #sandra bullock x reader #wlw #amerrierworld

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scuttle-buttle · 3 years

Text

What's One More?

WC: 3204

Rated: M

Tags: brief mentions of crime/mental illness/child abuse and neglect/substance addiction/theft, fluff, family dynamics, mentions of aging, mentions of difficult pregnancy, softness, anxiety attack

🧠

The harsh vibrating of a phone on the nightstand breaks your slumber. Still half asleep you toss your arm back to thump against your sleeping husband's side. With a groan he answers. You try to settle back into your pillow and the warmth of the blanket. Whoever has the balls to call at this hour has another thing coming - but later because your priority is going back to sleep.

He can't have been on the call more than fifteen seconds before he sits up in bed suddenly, turning on the bedside lamp; his movements grab your attention. You roll over. The light blinds you and you rub at your eyes to adjust. You can't make out what's being said. Looking at the clock to see that it's barely 4 am you know something bad has happened. Quietly you slip out from the covers.

Making your way down the hall you peek into your daughter's room, grateful that she's still fast asleep. Her soft snores punctuate the calm. Your nerves abate knowing she’s safe. By the time you get back to the bedroom Laszlo is up and getting dressed. "What's going on?"

He doesn't answer at first. You wait until he's finished buttoning his shirt to ask again. "Sara was called to consult on a triple homicide case - she's asked for me to come down to the police station. I don't know much yet, but it's something involving a young boy and she wants me to speak with him."

“Did he…?”

“No. He was not directly involved, that much we know.”

You nod, leaning against the door frame. This wasn't the first time that Laszlo had been called in by law enforcement and social services to assist with children and teens that needed psychological help. He had become more active around the time you graduated with your doctorate. After Sophia was born Laszlo helped fund an after school program for kids that focused on support for mental health and behavioral issues. He was so passionate about being able to help these kids. But it was never at this ungodly hour. "You'll call or something when you know what's up?" you ask through a yawn.

"Of course, Bärchen." He gives you a chaste peck. Gently he guides you back towards your bed and sits you down. "Go back to sleep, there's no need to worry. I love you." With that he left.

Your sleep is fitful with him gone. You worry over things that you aren't even aware of, over who is hurt, over how severe a situation it could be to have been called in the middle of the night, over the poor boy that needs Laszlo’s help. When your daughter tiptoes into the room around 6 you welcome her into the bed with open arms.

"Why are you up, baby bug?"

"Where's Papa?" She climbs up on his side of the bed and rubs his cold pillow. On her face is a deep frown.

"He had to go help some very important people early this morning. He'll be back to see you soon, I promise."

"I miss him. He always helps me with my shoes."

You can't help the smile that crosses your face. "I know, baby. But it's still early so let's take a nap before we have to get ready, hmm?" The two of you snuggle under the covers. With her curled into your side you do find rest, even for the short time before your alarm chimes.

The day moves sluggish as you wait for word from your husband. Little work was to be done today at the museum, so there wasn't much to keep your mind off the wondering. You considered calling. You considered texting. But you knew that when the time was right he would let you know. No news is good news, you think.

Finally the day came to a close. You picked up Sophia and stopped by the store on the way home to grab supplies for dinner. She insisted that she carry one of the bags inside - little miss independent that she was. “Careful not to drop it, okay? Use those muscles of yours to hold the bag tight.”

“Mama I know, I help Papa carry all the time,” she explains matter-of-factly.

The townhouse is quiet as you begin to unpack. You do a quick glance into the dining room and parlor to no avail. "Laz, honey? You home?" A few seconds later you hear movement from the stairs.

Your husband rounds the corner into the kitchen, swooping down to scoop your daughter into his left arm, peppering her face in exaggerated smooches. Her giggles light up the room from the dim atmosphere. He perches her on his hip. “How was your day my little dove?”

“So good Papa - I practiced my counting today at school. I can get the biggest in the class! Mommy said I must be the most smartest," she prattles on.

“Wunderbar!” he praises her before turning to you. “I didn't hear you come in." Laszlo kisses you.

Pinning him with a look you say "you also didn't call me today? You said you would and I've been worried all day."

Sophia crosses her arms and harrumphs from her father's hip; "me too Papa." He quirks an eyebrow at her before speaking.

"Yes… there is something I wished to speak with you on but didn't think it was suitable for the phone." You raise your own brows but continue to put away groceries. "I do not wish to discuss certain aspects of the case in present company-" he nods towards Sophia minutely "-but we do have a houseguest for the foreseeable future."

"Oh?" Your brows dip in confusion. This is not what you were expecting.

Laszlo peeks around the doorway and calls out "Stevie, would you come join us in the kitchen please."

Stevie? You don't know a Stevie...

A moment later a lanky boy with scruffy dark blond hair shuffles into the room. He can't be anymore than 15. His clothes are too big on him and his shoes are worn beyond belief; nevertheless he gives you a slight smile. “This is Stevie Taggert, he’s going to be staying here with us in the guest room for now.”

“Good evening Mrs. Kreizler,” the boy says nervously, his voice cracking.

You spare a look at your husband before turning to the teenager with a smile. “Ah, no need for that, kid. You can just call me by my name instead. And welcome to our home. You like spaghetti?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Awesome! And I’m certainly not old enough to be a ma’am,” you give him a wink. You set up a pot to boil the water for the pasta. Laszlo excused himself to spend some time with Sophia, leaving you and Stevie in the kitchen.

He clears his throat behind you. “Would um… is there anything I can do to help?”

"I would love that, thank you."

The two of you get to work on making dinner. Stevie doesn’t say too much, but he is very polite and does his best to be useful. Once the food is nearly finished your family has returned ready to eat. You send Stevie and Sophia to set the table.

“Should I be worried?” you ask Laszlo quietly, watching the doorway the two left through.

“I don’t think so. I just felt that I would rather he have a familiar face to adjust with instead of being placed in a group home like many end up.”

You study his face. “You’ve taken a liking to him haven’t you?”

“Well…" his face reddens at your question. "He reminds me a bit of myself when I was his age.” The conversation is cut short by the kids returning.

The rest of dinner and the evening goes smoothly. You make it a point to not bring up any questions that could trigger the teenager, especially before you’ve spoken with Laszlo about the situation at hand. When Stevie nearly eats his weight in pasta you say nothing, wondering how long it's been since he's had a good home cooked meal. He insists on helping clean up the dishes afterwards. Without even knowing what the boy has gone through your heart aches for him.

You set him up in the small renovated basement downstairs while Laszlo puts Sophia to bed. Handing him one of your husband’s old Harvard t-shirts to sleep in you tell him “I’m sorry you’ll be down here by yourself, but if you need us for anything don’t be afraid to come get us - no matter what time it is, okay? And if you get cold there’s an extra blanket right here for you. I know it's July but….” you shrug. “Tomorrow after I get home from work we can go to the store and get you some stuff to use, some more clothes, that kinda thing.”

“Yes ma’am.” At the teasing look you give him his ears burn red with his mumbled “right sorry.”

“Alright Stevie. We’ll see you in the morning, sleep well.”

Laszlo is in bed reading when you enter the room. Nothing is said as you ready yourself for bed. Slipping under the covers you face him. He sighs and closes his book.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call. I became caught up in the day and only arrived home with Stevie maybe half an hour before you did.” He sighs a second time. “Most of the case I cannot talk about, but what I can say is he was living with his mentally ill father, whom was also an addict. He missed the last few weeks of the school year and has been regularly stealing food to get by. He has no other family. I just… it didn’t feel right to let him process his experiences away from someone properly trained to deal with these sorts of things, in addition to how traumatic entering foster care at his age can be. I spoke with those in social services and was granted temporary custody until we find another more permanent solution.”

“Of course.”

He takes hold of your hand. “You aren’t upset with me?”

“I mean it would’ve been nice to have a bit more warning… but I get it. He can stay as long as he needs to. He’s a sweet kid,” you reassure him. “I told him that I would take him shopping after work tomorrow, so if you could pick up Soph from preschool that would be great.”

“Perhaps instead we can all go? I was thinking that I would bring him to the university with me so that he’s not alone all day. You could get her and then we could meet somewhere, get dinner afterwards?”

You lean closer to him to curl around his arm and rest your head on his shoulder. He always thought so much about others, especially children. Laszlo had such a heart of gold and it honestly left you in awe of just how much he was willing to give so that others could find peace and happiness. Like the older he got the more he had to give. The thought warms you. “How are you literally the best person I know? And to think you used to be so worried about being able to be a good father and now you’re the best of all of us.” He huffs a little as you nuzzle into his chest.

“I have you to thank for that, Bärchen.” He drops a kiss to your head. “But it’s getting late and I’ve been up all day. We should get some sleep.”

Soon after you're both dreaming.

___

Stevie had been with you for three weeks. It only took him a few days to start to settle in, and you discovered that he was quick with his wit and far smarter than he let on. He was a little bit of a sarcastic smart-ass at times, but all in good nature. He was endlessly entertaining. Laszlo sat down with him almost everyday to talk about what he was feeling, the things he experienced, and ways to deal with the loss of his family. Already you both saw improvement.

Even Sophia got on well with him. Most teenage boys wanted nothing to do with little kids, let alone a 4 year old that loved playing 'spaceship barbie'. But not Stevie. On his fifth day you'd found him sat on the floor playing with her and going along with her childlike imagination. When she insisted he play the barbie that needed saving he went along with it, high pitched voice and everything. He even encouraged her to pick up her toys before bed - a feat you and your husband struggled with at times. It struck you how much Stevie became a big brother of sorts to her.

Laszlo grew even more fond of the boy. He wasn't really one for TV, but every evening he sat and watched some show on Netflix about racing with the teen and didn't complain once. Laszlo had tried to explain the role of adrenaline in racing drivers as a psychological function, but Stevie just brushed it off and said it was the driving so fast that made it "cool".

The two did bond over an unlikely subject - punk rock. When you got home from work two weeks into his stay and heard the music blasting in the parlor you worried someone had broken in. Whipping into the room you saw Laszlo in his chair tapping his foot to the intense guitar and singing; Stevie nodded along to the music as he held an old album cover. It didn't take long for Sophia to start jumping along to the music too.

"What is this?" You yelled out over the bass - you couldn't recognize it and it clearly wasn't English.

"Die Toten Hosen, a band I listened to growing up in Germany. Stevie found the record and asked to listen."

"Listen? I think you mean blow out your eardrums!" Even with needing to shout to be heard you had to laugh at the situation. How your husband had a secret love for German punk you'll never know; yet you would never let him live it down.

And when Stevie came and woke you both up in tears three nights ago you made him hot chocolate while Laszlo sat down with him. He confessed that he had never been treated or cared for like he was in your home. How he wished he could stay because he felt wanted. Your heart broke for the boy. To be so young and so lost, craving someone to simply be there for him.

Yet everyday he grew more open. He broke out of his shell. He had goals and ambitions; he wanted to amount to something bigger than he had thought he ever could. It almost shocked you at how much fire was within him.

At how much he fit in with your little family.

At how it was like he was meant to be there.

___

Laszlo was oddly quiet when you got home. Sophia had run off to find Stevie, and you tracked your husband down to his office. He listened as you talked about your day for a good ten minutes; he said almost nothing the whole conversation.

You move closer to him. Placing the back of your hand to his forehead you check to see if he's feverish or sick. He didn't feel warm. "Laz, are you feeling okay?"

He gently pulls your hand down and leaves a kiss on your palm. "The department of social services called this morning to inquire about what we want to do with Stevie. This would be the third time they have asked."

He hadn't mentioned it to you at all that they were calling already. "Okay. What do you think we should do?" You pause for him to continue.

"I told them I would need to speak with you before any further decisions were made regarding him…" His fingers tap against the wood of his desk. "I'm not sure I have an answer for them. Nor for you." He swallows. "I'm afraid of what might become of him should he go into the system. Or that he will not get the support he needs given his past. Any option involving allowing him to stay for a bit longer is a commitment I won't make without your full support, of course. I could never ask that of you." As he speaks you can hear the frustration pouring from him, feel the irritation radiating through the room. "I refuse to give up on him- I- I just don't have the answers on what to do without them hounding me and he deserves better than this, dammit."

"He does… Do you remember on your 50th birthday, what you told me?" Laszlo looks up at you confused. "You said that you had wished you were ten years younger so you had the energy and time to do all of it again. That if you were younger we would've had a whole gaggle of kids - brothers and sisters for Sophia."

"Wishing I was younger doesn't make a difference in helping Stevie-"

"Laszlo - let's adopt him." Your words stop him in his tracks. You had decided not to have any more after your daughter was born. Laszlo was nearing 50 and the pregnancy had been hard on you. But regardless you knew that you both had the means and the love to give another child, probably five or ten more children if you really wanted to. So why not start with one that's already wormed his way in to the family? "I've seen how fond you are of him already. You've taken him under your wing as if he was your own. And how good he is with Sophia? Hell I couldn't ask for a better older sibling for her - and she loves him already. And honestly, Laz, I do too."

"You think we should adopt Stevie?"

"I think we should ask, yeah. He deserves a good home and a strong father figure that's going to put him first. He looks at you like you hung the stars, Laszlo. He needs us, and truthfully I think we need him. So yeah - what's one more added to this little shindig we've got going for us?"

"Have you-"

"-thought it through? Yes. Completely."

You can see the smile he fights to hold back. "We should call tomorrow and see what the protocol is for stating our intent to adopt and getting the paperwork."

"Um…" You shuffle your feet. Nose scrunched, you confess "I may have already called them. On the way from work I asked about what would need to be done if we wanted to pursue that route, but since they already know who we are from you working with them for years it can be fast tracked." You pull him out of his chair to stand before you. "All we have to do is say 'go'."

He has no hesitation.

"Go."

Laszlo doesn't hold back his smile or his laughter as he spins you around his office floor. You're certain your children downstairs can hear your giggles.

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams @that-one-fandom-kid @hb8301 @fandom-princess-forevermore @foggycandywitch @creme-bruhlee @andy-rocks @nonamec0s @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @uncomfortablebagel @rachelicouss @wisia02

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wolferine · 3 years

Text

Forgiven

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: One-shot sequel to my “Unforgivable” series. After being paralyzed in an accident, Natasha reunites with her lover who caused the accident in the first place.

Warnings: Mentions of torture, language

Word count: 2300

Tags: @yeetus-thyself @phoenixofash @yeeterthekeeper @alessiapn @diaryoflife @norwaynatasharomanoff @lovelyy-moonlight @nightingalxx @supersourlemon13

AN: This one’s for you, @allhailthelesbian! :)

You do not have to read the previous story to follow this one!

Something shifts in your arms and you instinctively tighten them, feeling a tickle of hair across your nose.

“Y/N,” Natasha whispers, “You squeeze me any harder and I’m gonna choke to death.”

“Huh?” You loosen your arms and open your eyes, finding your red-haired, green-eyed beauty staring back at you.

“Good morning,” she says.

“Good morning.” You close your eyes again and press your foreheads together.

“Ready for a workout?” she asks.

You chuckle. “It’s been a while since I’ve done one of those.”

She traces her finger over your bicep. While you’ve lost some weight in the past few months, you’ve still got some wiry strength, but you know you have some catching up to do.

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” she says. “But my legs don’t even work and I’m not using that as an excuse.”

“Okay, okay,” you sigh. “Five more minutes?”

“Fine. Only because I need your help getting to the bathroom, anyway.”

“Oh.” Your eyes fly back open. Although Natasha’s been living with her condition for more than six months, it’s still your first week back with her and sometimes you forget her needs are different than before you left. “I can just get up now—” you start.

“It’s fine,” she says, pushing you back onto the bed as you try to sit up.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Ask me again in five minutes.” She snuggles closer to you and her breath is hot against your collarbone. You close your eyes again and feel her touch the starburst of a scar on your cheek from where her bullet had struck your face.

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“When I fired my gun, I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” she says. “I just wanted to distract you. But then my bullet bounced off the pole and hit you in the face.”

“It’s okay,” you reply, knowing you’ve done far worse to her. A minor blemish was nothing compared to losing control of your legs.

Ten minutes later, Natasha announces she needs to use the bathroom. You sit up without being told twice and pick her up bridal-style, carrying her into the bathroom. Tony had made some modifications, such as adding handlebars near the toilet and inside the shower and lowering the medicine cabinet for easier access.

“Can you bring my wheelchair in? So you don’t have to keep carrying me back and forth,” Natasha asks as you help situate her on the toilet.

“I don’t mind,” you say.

“But I do,” she says.

Without argument, you move her wheelchair from the bedroom to the bathroom. “Holler if you need me,” you say, closing the door and going to change into a tank top and shorts. When you’re done, you hear water running in the sink and can’t help asking, “Everything okay in there?”

“Uh-huh! Jus’ brushin’ my teef!”

“Okay! Take your time.” You don’t want to be overbearing but you want to be ready to help when she needs it. Tony had talked to you about how independent she was; she insisted on learning how to do everything for herself, not liking the help of caregivers or nurses.

Obviously, she was more comfortable asking you for help than a stranger, but you knew her well enough to know that she hated showing any signs of vulnerability, even if she really needed help.

Natasha rolls out of the bathroom and you trade spots with her, using the toilet and brushing your teeth. When you come out, she’s by the closet with her back towards you. She has on a workout shirt and struggles to pull a pair of shorts up her legs.

“Do you need some help?” you ask. Tony had told you to always ask first instead of jumping right in.

“Yes, please.” Natasha sighs. The shorts are hooked around her feet. “It’s…It’s a little hard for me to reach sometimes.”

“That’s okay.” You kneel and shimmy the shorts over her knees.

“Can you pick me up so I can pull them on?” she asks.

“Sure.” You wrap your arms under hers and gently lift her high enough for her to pull the shorts up to her hips.

“Thanks.” You set her back down and help her put her shoes on. “All ready?”

“Let’s go.”

You go down to the Avengers’ state-of-the-art gym, containing every single piece of workout equipment you’re humanly aware of. There are weights up to the ton and a 12-foot deep Olympic-sized swimming pool.

“What did you have in mind today?” you ask as you walk next Natasha. She rolls suspiciously close to the swimming pool and you wish you could squeeze yourself on the other side of her to make sure she doesn’t fall in.

“Leg day,” she says.

“Huh?”

“Kidding!” Natasha laughs when suddenly, her wheelchair catches on the end of a loose pool noodle someone had left out and she launches from her wheelchair into the pool. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, you would’ve cried from laughter, but instead your heart drops to your feet and you jump into action—literally.

“Nat!” you scream, diving in headfirst. Underwater, you open your eyes, letting the chlorine burn into them, and see the blurry shape of Natasha bobbing up to the surface. You swim towards her and when lift your head to take a breath, you find her howling in laughter.

“What are you laughing at?” you ask, coughing up a mouthful of water.

“I’ve been swimming every day since the accident, babe,” she says, doing a much better job of treading water than you. And she doesn’t even have use of her legs. “I’m not going to drown.”

“Well, I might.” Your head dips under and you swallow a mouthful of water. Natasha wraps her hand around your arm and yanks you up.

“Seriously?” she asks.

“Haven’t…swam…in a while,” you choke.

“So, you thought you could jump in and save me when you can barely save yourself?” Natasha shakes her head, but admires your blinding love for her. She drags you over to the wall and grabs the pool noodle. “Use this.”

You bend the noodle under your arms, grateful for the moment of rest.

“Okay, let’s go do a few laps now!” She paddles away before you can protest. Grudgingly, you kick after her.

***********************************************************************

An hour later, you’re so exhausted you can barely walk and you’re tempted to ask Natasha if she’ll let you sit on her lap while you go back up to your room.

“Shower together?” Natasha asks, and there’s a hint of shyness in her voice.

“Sure.” You’ve already seen there’s plenty of room for the both of you. First, you get Natasha settled into her shower chair before you turn around and take your dripping workout clothes off.

It’s the first time she’s seen you naked since you left. Her eyes trace over the visible bones of your ribs and the scars crisscrossing your back. There’s a burn in the shape of a triangle on the back of your left shoulder, where Hammer had tried to brand you with his logo. Because he didn’t see you as a person, but his property.

Natasha knows that although she’s had a difficult past six months, you had been in your own hell.

You turn towards her and see the sadness in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” you ask.

She doesn’t say anything and offers her hand, pulling you into the shower. You turn on the water, removing the showerhead from the wall to spray over the both of you. There is nothing sexual in any of your actions as you help each other shampoo your hairs and wash your bodies. However, the closeness is still intimate and comforting.

Afterwards, you both dry off and get dressed, going into the kitchen for breakfast. Falling back into a routine with your girlfriend—even after six months—is the easiest thing you ever did. But even though it’s almost like you never left, things aren’t exactly the same, and you want to make up for the lost time as much as you can.

***********************************************************************

When lunchtime rolls around, Natasha suggests taking you to your favorite diner. You haven’t driven a car in six months, so you’re a little nervous when you go down to the garage, until Natasha insists that she’ll drive instead. She takes you over to her black Corvette Stingray, which never fails to make you whistle.

You help her into the driver’s seat, noticing the specialized hand control Tony installed so she could work the pedals with a hand lever. You make a mental note to thank him again for being so generous in caring for your girlfriend in your absence. When you sit in the passenger seat, it feels just like old times.

“Don’t crash,” you tease.

“Oh, please,” Natasha scoffs. “I can’t even use my legs and I’m still a better driver than you.”

“Ouch.”

You watch as she expertly maneuvers the steering wheel with her left hand while her right hand pushes and pulls on the handle for the brake and gas pedal.

“You look so badass,” you say.

She looks at you and smiles. “I know.”

“I think I’ll just have you drive me around from now on.” You close your eyes and relax in the seat.

When you arrive at the diner’s parking lot, Natasha skips over the blue handicapped stalls and parks across from them.

“You don’t want to park there?” you ask, pointing to an empty blue stall.

She shakes her head. “Maybe someone else needs it more than me,” she says. “After all, they don’t have you to carry them around.” She tries to make a joke out of it, but you can tell she’s a little embarrassed. It’s also the reason she’s so hesitant to drive her Corvette around: most people who see it assume she’s a jackass trying to take advantage of a handicapped spot.

She’s had people scratch her doors and leave ugly notes on the windshield. One time, before she even had the chance to get out of the car, a group of people had gathered at her door to cuss her out. Their red faces of embarrassment and stuttered apologies when Tony helped her into her wheelchair was something she would never forget.

You get her wheelchair out of the trunk and set it next to her door, helping her into it. Inside the restaurant, the waitress removes one of the chairs at your table so Natasha can sit next to you. You don’t even bother looking at the menu, knowing exactly what you want.

You end up finishing all of your food and Natasha’s leftovers, and she can only laugh at your appetite.

“Hammer didn’t you feed you enough?” she teases.

“I’m pretty sure the stuff he gave me can’t even be counted as food,” you respond.

“Before we go home, I want to take you somewhere special,” she says as you leave the restaurant. “I visit it once a week.”

“Let’s do it.”

She drives you to a high school. But since it’s the weekend, the parking lot is empty except for a few cars. Natasha takes you inside. As you go down the hall with her, she grabs onto your hand.

“You don’t need both hands to roll?” you joke.

“I just like being close to you,” she says. Her wheelchair is at the perfect height that you don’t have to strain your shoulder lower to hold her hand. She directs you into a classroom, and when you step inside, you see some people already there.

They’re all in wheelchairs.

You suddenly feel angry at Natasha for bringing you here. Was she trying to make you feel even more guilty for what you had done to her? These people were all going through their own pain, and here you were having caused that exact same pain to your own lover.

“Hey, everyone,” Natasha says with a confidence in her voice you haven’t heard yet. “This is my partner I’ve told you all about, Y/N.”

“Hi, Y/N!” they chorus. You cringe, wondering how much of yourself Natasha told them. Some of them are like her, paralyzed from the waist down, while others move their wheelchairs around by blowing into tubes or pressing a remote hanging from their necks.

You move out to the hallway and Natasha follows you.

“Why did you bring me here?” you whisper, your stomach churning. You feel like you’ve intruded on something private, something you don’t have the right to be a part of. “What were you thinking—”

“Please stay,” she begs. “They’re all my friends, and some of them bring their partners along, too. It’s not an exclusive club or anything. We tell stories and learn how to get through things together.

“My condition changed everything for me, but it’s also a change for you. I want to make sure you get the support you need. Because there’s not just two of us in this relationship anymore,” she continues, and you raise your eyebrow. “It’s me, you, and my condition.

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m your burden or you’re my caregiver. I’m still the same as I always was. I can’t do everything myself and I might need your help. It’s just a different kind of help than before.”

You kneel and cup her face. “I love you, Nat. I’ll be here for you, whenever and whatever you need,” you promise.

She leans forward to kiss you. “I know.”

And with that kiss, you feel her forgiveness wash over you, cleansing you of the guilt and trauma of what you did. She had already forgiven you, a long time ago. You couldn’t continue to be so hard on yourself if you wanted the relationship to work.

You know it won’t be an easy journey, and it’s only the beginning, but with Natasha by your side again, you feel completely unstoppable.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: I was definitely nervous writing this as I have little experience working with people with paralysis, so I did some research and hope I did it justice! If there’s anything out of place, please let me know. :)

Join my taglist for future stories here! Thanks for reading, and until next time…

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow fanfiction #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel imagine

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intergalactic-padawan · 3 years

Note

hi! can you maybe do a cute/fluffy story of ezra surprises y/n on a date (and maybe a kiss)? I would love to see this!

Stressed out

Requested: yes!

Warnings: does being tired from work count?

A/N: ah, the random knowledge you find on the wookiepedia rabbitholes... I may have a very good understanding of cake in the galaxy ffa now. This was so nice to write, kinda different from what I usually do but I guess you'll be the judges of the final product hahaha

Pronouns of reader: she/her

To say that your morning had been disapointing was a serious understatement.

A few months ago, when rebel command offered you a position as an intelligenge analyst, you felt honoured at the opportunity to make a bigger difference and help even more with your big ideas.

Today, however, was just another frustrating attempt at getting to see some action, even after you gathered all the intel and designed the entire course of action. They always insisted on giving the mission to someone else.

-"nothing?" - Ezra asks as you step into the hall of the rebel base on Yavin IV, where you'd taken that frustration out on some innocent pillows from your bed moments before.

-"I'm seriously starting to loose hope, Ezra"

-"What did they say this time?"

-"The usual 'Thank you for the suggstion. We'll take it under advisement'."

-"That's an improvment! Last time they said 'no, and that's final'"

-"If you ask me, i think they're just trying to find different ways to let me down easily"

-"Well...at least you tried?" - he takes your hand trying to comfort you, and you sigh as he leads you two outside for some fresh air.

-"It feels like 'trying' is all i've been doing lately. What is it that Kanan said once? Do or do not-"

-"there is no try" - he finishes with a smile - "it was actually Master Yoda who said it first, i think?"

-"The point is, if even Jedi wisdom says I should be doing more than trying, there's got to be something i can do to get my hands dirty for once"

-"Jedi wisdom would also tell you to be patient, young one" - he puts on a serious face only to break out a grin afterwards, and you laugh at his efforts to try and cheer you up.

-"we're the same age, Ezra" - you say through giggles

-"Thank the Force. Or else I wouldn't be able to do this" - he spins you and brings your face closer, planting a kiss on your lips you're more than happy to reciprocate. For a moment, you let your worries escape as his company makes it a bit easier to relax.

It doesn't last long though, as you hear a robotic voice call from behind you:

-"Excuse me, commander bridger" - the droid you recognize as AP-5 looks like he would give you an eyeroll if he could - "but captain Syndulla requests your presence immediately at hangar 4. So if you are quite done with your lip-sucking we should leave at once."

You can't help but snort at what he computed a kiss as. 'Lip-sucking is one way to describe it, I guess'

-"Sorry, I have to go now"- Ezra doesn't know weither to laugh as well or scold the droid for interrupting like that - "but I'll see you at 8?"

-"what happens at 8?"

-"we go on a date. You need to relax a little, do something fun!"

You don't get a chance to reply, as he's being dragged away in a hurry by AP-5. Normally you'd object, saying you had too much work, but now it didn't seem like a bad idea; it's not like you had a mission to go to, anyway.

-"I'm not sure we're authorized to be here right now" - you whisper, but he hushes you while opening the double doors and turning on the light.

Baking.

This was his idea of a fun time.

But, if his intention was to take your mind off of work, he was certainly on the right path: you would be too worried with not getting caught by anyone at that hour (the kitchen was supposed to be closed, you see) and not burning anything you made to a crisp to even think about anything else.

-"c'mon, let's put our baking skills to the test!" - he starts going through the drawers until the supplies are finally found.

-"Ezra, you can't put to the test what you don't have"

-"Hey, speak for yourself! Chef Bridger is always ready to prepare you a delicious meal."

-"and what will chef bridger be making today, huh?"- you try, but can't stop the smile growing on your face

-"let's see, uhhh" - he skims throuhg a book until his eye lands on the dessert section -"how about... some hotcakes?"

-"hmm, lemme see" - you read rhrough the instructions when he hands you the book -"oh, so it's like a pancake. Sounds easy enough."

-"A panna cake? Those are next page, i think."

-"No, not those. Pancakes." - you smile and put the book on the counter, starting to set the ingredients aside - "it's a famous food where i come from. Though panna cakes are quite similar."

-"Huh, can't say i ever tried it. Now you'll have to make some for me" - he shoots you a sly grin and recieves paper towels on the face in return.

-"Aha, no way, mister. You're helping me" - you turn around, gesturing for him to help you with the apron.

-"Alright, since you insist," - he fumbles with it for a while, but gives you a quick smooch once he's done -"I'll stay here with you. But only if I get mine with zoochberries"

-"as you wish, sir"

-"and please, don't call me mister or sir." - he chuckes and shoves a tall chef hat, posing ridiculously for you to snort.

- "The name's Bridger. Chef Bridger"

#Chef bridger is my new favourite thing #AP-5 is learning the art of interrupting kisses from C3-PO #he walked so that threepio COULD RUN #this may be some of my best dialogue yet #panna cakes are actually a thing?? They were served at dex's diner #So are zoochberries #I did extensive research at wookiepedia #god i love star wars #ezra bridger x oc #ezra bridger fic #ezra bridger x you #ezra bridger x reader #ezra bridger x y/n #ezra bridger imagine #ezra bridger #ezra bridger x reader imagine

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mgg-theprettiestboy · 4 years

Text

the best part

matthew gray gubler x fem!reader

request: a fluffy mgg blurb where you propose to him and he’s like :O

fluFF

in which you finally pop the question

warnings: cursing, mentions/insinuation of sex

It had to be special. You were a pretty impatient person, but for this, you took your time to plan every last detail. It didn’t have to be absolute perfection, you knew that. But you wanted it to be special. Memorable.

So of course, if you were going to propose to your boyfriend, you had to do it on Halloween. You knew Matthew was a little bummed out that Halloween wouldn’t be as exciting this year because of restrictions in place, but you were set on making it a good day for him. Starting with breakfast in bed, you then dragged him out to a pumpkin patch to pick some to carve. As if your house wasn’t already covered in gourds already. But a few more wouldn’t hurt.

Then you set off to an orchard, where you could pick your own apples and make your own cider. All while wearing masks, of course. You even got to take a few loose apples home afterwards, which is why you were now both in the kitchen, making an apple pie. Well, you were. Matthew was just stealing apple chunks and eating them while you tried not to chop his fingers off.

“I think I should quit and become a brewer,” he hummed in thought as he glanced over to the bottles of cider you guys had brought him. He was sat on the counter, swinging his legs like a kid. You smiled over at him as you put the top on the pie, “oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I did a damn good job. And you did alright as well, I suppose,” he glanced over to you with a cheeky smile. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, moving to put the pie in the oven, “wow, thanks.”

He laughed, before hoping off the counter and moving to wrap his arms around you, “but on a more serious note, baby... thank you. You really made this Halloween special, despite all the crazy shit going on. Thank you.”

“You deserve it,” you hummed, and he grinned, before leaning down and capturing your lips with his. It was one of those kissed that made you want to melt, a kiss that just had such an overwhelming feeling of love. You whined whenever he pulled back, making him laugh and kiss you again.

“What are we gonna do for dinner?” He hummed against your lips, and you smiled softly, ‘hmm, I don't know. What would you like?”

“You,” he mumbled, before kissing you deeply again. You couldn’t help but giggle into the kiss, “you can’t eat me.” He pulled back from the kiss, brows raised, “you wanna bet?

Thirty minutes later

“The pie’s gonna be burnt!” You huffed as you ran into the kitchen to turn off the oven. Matthew scoffed, following you, “that was the last thing on your mind about sixty seconds ago.”

“So help me god, Matthew,” you grumbled, but you were smiling. Luckily, the apple pie wasn’t burnt... well, it was golden brown. Definitely crispy.

“I’ll make dinner,” Matthew kissed your head before going to the fridge. You began to protest, which he knew you would do, so he was quick to press his lips against yours to silence you, “no arguing. You planned out an amazing day for us, the least I could do is cook dinner. Go put on the tv and pour yourself a glass of wine.”

You grinned and kissed him quickly, before pouring yourself a glass of red wine and going to the living room to do as he said. You weren’t usually one to follow orders, but when he used a certain kind of voice, you really didn’t have a choice.

“How does chicken stirfry sound?” He called from the kitchen, and you sighed happily at the thought of it. This was something you could get used to. And if tonight went well, then you would be.

“Sounds amazing. Anything you cook is always amazing,” you called back, flicking through the channels on the tv before settling on old sitcom reruns. Feeling cozy, you moved from the sofa so you could light the fire. Since it was November at midnight, it was understandably cold, so the small wood burning stove would help keep you warm, and plus, it adds to the whole cozy feeling.

“We’re having dinner a lá couch tonight, milady,” he sat beside you on the couch, handing you a plate as you smiled, “sounds good to me. This smells amazing.”

You pecked his cheek, before quickly digging into your dinner. As the night moved on, you felt like you were gonna lose your dinner, as you grew more and more nervous about popping the question. You were never really one to stick to tradtion and definitely not the rules, but neither was Matthew. Still, you asked his mom for permission to marry him. Cheesy, yes, but in reality you just wanted an excuse to tell her that you were planning on doing it, and to get her help to pick out a ring.

“What’s on your mind?” Matthew asked softly as he played with your hair. Dinner had been finished, and now you both sat, cozied up on the couch with the fire roaring, and your head on his shoulder. You sighed softly, before smiling, “honestly, you.”

“Me?” You could hear the smile in his voice, “what about me?”

“Everything about you. You occupy my mind, 24/7, 365 days a year. You’re the best part of my life, Matthew. God, I’m so ridiculously in love with you.”

His other arm wrapped around you, hugging you so tightly you thought you were gonna break. “I love you too, pretty girl. More than you’ll ever know. More than I can ever put into words.”

“I should’ve planned this out better,” your mouth spoke your thoughts before your brain could shut you up. He pulled back to look at you, “hmm? Plan what?”

“This,” you wriggled out of his hold, sitting on your knees beside him as you pulled out a ring, “this is as close as you’ll get to me getting down on one knee, cause that shit is corny.”

His smiled slowly began to grow again, “Y/N... are you for real? Are you really...?”

“Proposing to you? Yes. Which I know is backwards, or whatever, cause I’m the girl. But who cares? I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and, well, I was tired of you sitting around on your ass and figured that one of us should make the first step,” you smiled, making him grin as he leaned in and kissed you slowly. He pulled back after a minute, and before you could say anything, he got up off the sofa and walked away.

You couldn’t help but raise a brow, “well that’s not a good sign.”

You watched him crouch down beside the fireplace, and from one of the many nooks and crannies in the house, he pulled out a small box, before returning to beside you. You scoffed a laugh as you saw the ring in the box, “you’re joking.”

“Halloween is more my thing, and I know how much you love Christmas, so I figured I would do it closer to then. I’m kinda glad you did it before I could, because I would have royally fucked up. And you made this the best day ever,” he said. You leaned over and kissed him passionately, somehow ending up on his lap whilst you two locked lips.

You pulled back, breathless, but grinning like a fool, “well, not to be hasty, but I’m gonna need an answer. Matthew Gray Gubler, will you marry me?”

His grin made the butterflies in your stomach flutter, smiling as he pecked your lips and responded, “absolutely, Y/N Y/L/N..... hmm, Y/N Gubler... that’s something I can get used to.”

You giggled as he pulled you closer, and you held out the ring to him, “I think you mean Matthew Y/L/N.”

Matthew slid the ring on, before taking your hand and sliding on the ring he bought got you, “honestly, I would be fine with that. I don’t really care. I’ll do whatever makes you happy. Whatever makes the world know you’re mine.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly, as he nuzzled his face into your neck, “you’re so sweet. God, I love you.”

“I love you more,” he mumbled, and you ran a hand through his hair, “not fair. I love you most.”

“Nope. I love you most,” he grumbled, pulling back to look up at you. You folded your arms and looked down at him, “no. I said it first.”

“Too bad. My love outbids yours,” he shrugged, and you gasped, “no it doesn’t.”

“Yeah it does,” he sighed nonchalantly, smirking slightly up at you. You scoffed, “prove it.”

Famous last words.

#mgg #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #Matthew gray Gubler #mgg blurb #mgg fluff #mgg smut #mgg fanfiction #mgg x y/n #mgg x reader #mgg gifs #mgg angst #mgg fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction

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pen-observing · 4 years

Text

I finished my fic with this theme and I did the brothers reacting to this. So how could I, an undatables enthusiast, not make this? It took a while but it’s here. Some brain cells were involved in the making of this post,,,, I guess?

MASTERLIST

How the undatables react/pursue you after Diavolo cheats on you while married

Diavolo:

Why is he here? Well you see-- why not

In the human world some believe that the ultimate proof of love is giving the cheater another chance, fighting to salvage a relationship

In all honesty, Diavolo never expects that from you, nor does he hope such a thing can happen

He curses himself for a momentary weakness. A prince, a ruler, so easily swayed and influence does not carry any nobility or respect

He may be the most influential, the most powerful- but he starts seeing himself as weak

He hides away from his thoughts in work, in new holidays, in friendships and partnerships and in excuses

He tries not to give those thoughts space to grow

But, the damage has been done

Diavolo’s worst enemy and worst critic, the one who judges him the most is himself

He knows that with this one deed (some may call it a momentary lapse in judgement) he has undone all the work it took years to build

He knows that falling into temptation is the biggest mistake he has ever made; especially because he cannot bear to have you hate him when he loves you so much

Diavolo has no guts to admit that after what he did, he believes he has no right to claim it face-to-face

So, he randomly visits Lucifer to see you, ask about you. He tasks Barbatos with keeping you safe. Little Ds are ordered to make your life easier without being noticed

Because of what happened, he doubts that he deserves the place and title of a King

And, you notice that the most- in the smiles, in the speeches, in the doubt and guilt that radiates off from him

The only way to salvage this and get back together lies with you. If you, after so much time can forgive but not forget. If you can wish to grow into a union once more.

He goes along with your wish for divorce just as quickly as he goes for your wish of reconciliation.

He does not force you, he respects whatever you decide.

Barbatos:

Probably the one which would provide the most material for gossip and speculation, in theory

In practice, it’s like a 500k slow burn romance

Here is why; Barbatos is a man of duty and loyalty to the person that hurt you. He finds no amusement in being the center of gossip nor does he wish for you to go through the dirt. Devildom is such a cruel place, you cannot even imagine what could come your way if the relationship was established early on.

Besides, it is even hard for you to not have Barbatos remind you of Diavolo once the relationship first breaks

Babratos gives you time to heal and move on before he does anything which can show his romantic interest

He knows how charming you are, he knows your habits and he knows that he must be patient before a true connection can be established

So, how does it happen? Well, after healing from Diavolo you naturally, through fate or the wonder of time, need to spend some time in the same circle

Obligations, work and friendships bring you together in a weird way

The balls and parties are something you must attend and because Barbatos knows you, he knows just what you like

The perfect place for you to sit which is neither too warm nor too hot, a place far away from people you do not like in their world but close enough so that you do not miss anything important or fun. For some reason, it always smells like your favorite scent too

The perfect place, the perfect tea, the delicious food with small hidden notes which do not give away his intention but do show his affection

It just grows more and more unbearable

The lingering stares, the short but warm goodbyes, the way his hands just brush against yours for a moment longer than usual when he takes your coat

It creates a magical attraction inside that long game, which, as expected, Barbatos is better at than you

You try to find him alone and, in those moments; inside the kitchen or under the stairs while everyone is far away dancing, it becomes just the world of you two

His tone is warmer, he is more direct. You sometimes, inside such short pauses, are able to exchange warmth. In conversations, in the longing looks, in the way his hand holds yours. In the way he gently takes your wrist, puts his hand on the small of your back to guide you back inside a world which is overabundant in fancy but doesn’t feel meaningful without him in it

Sometimes, it can even hold a soft kiss

But, it becomes torture. Enough is enough. His privacy starts to seem like secrecy to you for all the wrong reasons. As a human, you aren’t patient enough to wait 4 years until something, anything happens

So, you seek him out at the next party. They’re too rare in your opinion now. You seek him out and find him on the stairs as he goes to complete another task.

Bravery or foolishness, it does not matter which of the two makes you stop him. Makes you ask him; when? When will this secrecy end?

In reality, it doesn’t really matter. He would probably kabedon you on the stairs (as a true gentleman! don’t get it twisted!)

He holds time itself in his hands and yet you asked him.

He whispers: “All in good time, my love. All in good time.��

And leaves you like that.

So, what is the good time?

It is already the point where you forgot about Diavolo but; has Diavolo forgotten about you?

That is what Barbatos waits for. He sees no need to ask his lord such a thing. Diavolo notices it himself. How could he not? Diavolo also knows that he does not love you anymore.

So, the next time Diavolo comes to the kitchen and sees your favorite tea (the one he never drinks) he gives Barbatos the permission, the freedom to go pursue you.

After all, it is time.

Simeon:

The most empathic out of everyone.

The best choice even

Why? With him, you would only feel compassion and care.

Gentleness.

There is no drama that could follow you when you turn to him.

He has not sworn loyalty to Diavolo. He is not his partner. He lives in a completely different realm.

It is really the exact change that you need. At first, it seems so odd because you are used to a completely different world but; it is comfort. It is care. It is everything that helps you heal

In truth, Simeon’s instinct gravitates towards that. It gravitates towards making sure that you heal in all aspects. Physically, emotionally- most importantly- your soul should shine like it used to

After you start that process it brings long conversations where you two ponder over what it means to live and love. You discuss theories and opinions. Simeon has loved longer than you, he has seen countless love stories- he even wrote some.

This process can even inspire him to flesh out a new character

In actuality, Simeon warned both Diavolo and you with masqueraded words about what marriage truly means before you got married

So now, he doesn’t say ‘I told you so’ or ‘Why didn’t you listen to me’. He just hopes that you won’t grow to hate the whole institution and tradition that marriage is

And honestly? Simeon shows you unrequited love so, how could you ever think that with him?

Here, you will be the first to realize your emotions and you will probably need to act on them first as well

Solomon:

He is somewhere in the human world, inside a secret room of an abandoned castle just thinking of new spells when he gets a text from Asmo about what happened

Dramatic as fuck gasp while his potion drops to the floor and now the floor is pink

Solomon, with all the years that he has been alive, with all the pacts and mistakes he has made- still is more human than the rest of them

This does not mean that he will be the best at comforting you but he already packed the most important things to go and see you. Is that not enough to show immediate care?

Instead of comforting you by himself he spends time in the House of Lamantation, working with the rest of the brothers

Time has passed, you both have changed so it takes a bit for him to get familiar with you again and to work out your habits

Probably tries to joke like: “Even if that red tree branch offered me to make a pact with him I would refuse for your sake.”

It shows that, despite all the flaws and morally gray actions, he stands on your side- not his

But, life inside that house has to move on. He can’t really stay calm and tied down to it for months and as he is preparing for his next trip- he asks you to go with him

It is a true change of pace. You will experience new things you never dreamed of. He can teach you magic. He can show you places in the human world full of it

He promises to make sure that you are safe

So you set off with him

It is a grand adventure. It holds both comfort and new things that only make you grow.

It holds his teasing as well but he never lets anything bad happen to you

He realizes his affections before you but you are so busy taking in the world’s wonders that he keeps them a secret for just a while longer because you are so excited. Your eyes shine and he just knows you have new stories to remember and uncover at the same time

You don’t realize yours until Solomon makes it clear to you, in a sly way.

You stand outside of enchanted ruins. The sky is bright blue with pink lines. Solomon says: “And who would have thought that one of the most powerful witches got cheated on by the man who allegedly enchanted this ruin when he was young? Hmm?~”

And really, who would? You realize then how that did not even cross your mind. How could it? Here you are with Solomon on another adventure that sparked more love as the sky dances for your new story.

Luke:

Has it been years since you got married? Yes

Has Luke grown to love demons? Absolutely not. Are you kidding me?

He throws his little hat to the ground when he finds out

Never trust their kind. That's what he says

Sure Diavolo had a noble goal once but after this? Once Luke’s good opinion is lost it is lost forever

Baby is very dramatic about the whole thing

How dare that evil creature hurt you? Luke was teary eyed at your wedding and he is teary eyed the next time he sees you

But

He tries his best. He really does.

He doesn’t have wisdom like Simeon. But he asks him for advice.

Best believe the only way Diavolo will taste one of his treats again is if Luke yeets it in his face

Firstly, tumblr better fix their tags because it is unbearable! Now you may ask; yooo why is Barbatos’ so long? Cus thats my boo and he is the main reason I decided to write these reactions in general

#obey me #shall we date obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #mc #obey me undatables #reader #luke is platonic obviously

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latenightsandbrightdyes · 3 years

Text

One Way Or Another

Summary: A misunderstanding interrupts a snowy getaway with your boyfriend and his brothers.

Jungkook x reader.

Angst. Fluff. Some Smutty Activity. Bangtan Shenanigans.

Welcome to a very random drabble that I wrote at some point and just found the courage to post. Thanks to the lovely @xjoonchildx who not only brightens my days with her amazing stories, and witty intellectual lists, but listens to my random nonsense I message her, and answers back with such sweet welcoming encouragement. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!

.......................................................

Your heart was racing. Sneakers squeaking out like a beacon on the hardwood floor as you turned a corner, the quick action propelling you forward into a large living room. Your eyes taking in the beautiful room as you mentally curse this gorgeous house in the woods. Feet still moving, trying to find anywhere that could hide you. Hearing his boots on the floor caused your heart to thunder in your chest. Eyes pinging around the room, landing on couches, a glass coffee table, gauze curtains. Nothing that was going to help. Brain apparently on a whole other level, had you exiting the living room. The hallway options were better but still not ideal. You pass up the idea of going upstairs, not wanting to make one of those fatal horror movie cliched decisions. The kitchen was to the left, that was the one place you knew you would be cornered. “This a maze or a house?” You sounded more winded than you actually were, the adrenaline making itself present in the air. His chuckle echoed from behind you somewhere and you squeaked, feet taking off like a rocket to the right. The chuckle got deeper and louder but not closer. He was in no hurry, confident that he would catch you. It wasn’t until the third or fourth slap of your sneakers on stone that you realized you had taken the stairs down. With a shake of your head, you paused unsure of what was down there. It was bright and only got brighter the further down you could see. Your feet slowly and quietly went down another step, then another and another. A noise from above had your head snapping up, as your hand gripped the railing. Your eyes narrowed, “was that...?” The cheeky bastard was whistling One Way Or Another. It felt like your heart was trying to match the beat, and you decided you didn’t care about the echo of your footsteps as you took the stairs quicker than ever. The room was open and brightly lit up with sunlight streaming in through floor to ceiling windows. Only a hot tub in the giant space, currently occupied by two of your friends. “Hey-“ You flapped your arms and aggressively shushed Hoseok, who looked even more startled than he had when you first burst into the room, intruding on his relaxation. “I’m sorry! I-“ Your head snapped up again, hearing boots on the stairs. Your wide eyes scanned the room again before they met Jimin’s amused ones. You hastily whispered “I was never here!” Before running and practically diving behind the hot tub. “What the hell is-“ “SHHH!” You hissed out at Hobi. “Just go about your business, bestie.” The whisper wasn’t as harsh this time, mostly because you felt bad but partly because you were trying to get your breathing under control. As you tucked your legs close and curled into a ball on the floor, you heard his whistling abruptly stop as his boots slapped loudly against the floor, announcing his arrival into the room. Slowly you pulled the hood to your onesie over your head, wishing it was an invisibility cloak. “Hyungs, have you seen my traitor of a girlfriend?” Jungkook’s voice was smooth, too smooth, as the words caused you to shiver. “What... No!” Hobi’s reply was too quick and had you squeezing your eyes shut. Jungkook’s chuckle and mocking “No?” Had you biting your lip. “Funny ‘cause I’m willing to bet you’re hiding the little sneak.” “What’s going on..?” Jimin’s quiet tone was full of confusion as more footsteps could be heard on the stairs causing you to curl into yourself tighter. “C’mon, just accept-“ “Accept what?” JK’s voice lashed out, cutting Jin off. “Accept that my girlfriend played me?” His tone was incredulous and had your heart sinking. “Wait, what’s...what happened?” Hoseok sounded so lost you couldn’t help but tilt your head to the right and look up at him in the hot tub. His hand held out in the air as if indicating Jungkook and Seokjin. A big huff of air was released adding to the already tense atmosphere. “We were just playin-“ “Playing? You and that little temptress were-“ You couldn’t take it anymore and popped up from behind the hot tub. “I couldn’t resist, okay!?” The pleading whine of your voice ricocheted off the walls as all heads snapped to you. Hobi jumped up from his seated position, turning so fast that he hit his knee in the hot tub. “Oh shit!” He hissed. The look on Jungkook’s face as he took a step towards you had you stepping back automatically. His eyes narrowed, “Oh, it’s my fault then?” Your hands flew into the air like you were tossing a pizza, before pointing at him. “YES! Just be glad that I restrained myself. The situation was under control until you-“ “Until I?” Jungkook ripped the beanie off his head, twisting the material with a harsh laugh before yanking it back on. “Nothing is under control if you’re picking anyone over me.” The force of your head shaking had the onesie’s hood falling down. “I didn’t pick anyone over you!” His shoulder lifted as he motioned to the right, “You took Jin hyung up on his offer.” You looked between Jin and Jungkook, “I wasn’t going to... I love Seokjinnie and all, but I love you so much. And you’re so-“ Jungkook scoffed, “But what do you love most, hmm?” Your eyes narrowed, “I do NOT love ice cream more than I love you!” “Ice cream, the fuck?” Ignoring Yoongi, Jungkook took a step, his voice taunting, “Your actions say otherwise...” You almost screamed, “It’s not my fault!” Your hands were moving all around as you ranted. “Jin offered me ice cream if I helped him win, yes, but I wasn’t... I thought about it for like a second. A. SECOND, okay? But then you bent over the pool table in front of me, and your ass was just THERE! I didn’t know where the pool balls were. Or that you were about to hit, and damn sure didn’t know you’d sink the 8ball!” Jungkook mocked your hand motion which had been a bit wide apparently. “Oh, there?” You jabbed your finger in the air at him indignantly, “Your ass looks great in that onesie, so don’t even!” He smiled at you, which is when you finally took notice that he had been slowly moving closer as he provoked you. Eyes narrowed, and head tilted to look for an escape, “Be glad I restrained myself, because I wanted to bite, but instead I only grabbed.” The shift in his body was clear, he hadn’t been expecting that but he sure seemed to like it. A smile played on your lips, “Oh, did you hear something you liked, Jeon?” lightly snapping your teeth at the end. Jungkook suddenly lunged at you, arm out stretched. You squeaked out a laugh as you hopped back and to the right. Your arm reaching the glass doorhandle and yanking it open, before charging out into the cold. The snow under your sneakers made you nervous but you pushed it down as Jungkook’s boots crunched loudly in the snow. You quickly realized you were more trapped outside surrounded by the frozen forest than you had been in the house. Your foot slid in the snow, causing you to start to fall. Decision made for you, you turned and slid even more landing down on one knee with the other leg stretched out into a half split. With your arms out in the air at your sides for balance, you looked up to face your boyfriend. His handsome face was beaming with a victorious smile, his breath creating puffs in the cold air. All black onesie, beanie, and boots overshadowing all the snowy white. It really wasn’t fair how he looked so good in snow. All you wanted to do was launch yourself into his arms but you refused to give up your little game. You reached down and grabbed a handful of snow, ignoring the cold burn before tossing it at Jungkook. You watched as the snow scattered in the air, a few stray clumps only missing him by inches before they fell to the ground. Laughter bubbles up inside you, and you could feel yourself tipping over. Eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back as your laughter danced with the breeze, you gave in falling back into the snow, only to have a strong arm wind around your shoulders, cushioning your head from impact. “Caught you.” Jungkook’s warm hand on your cheek had your eyes opening, His smile brighter than the sun behind his shoulder. You tilted your head to the side, kissing his palm, as you brought your hand up to rest over his heart before your eyes met again. “Hi.” His thumb slid along your cheek, touching the corner of your lips. “Hiya sweetheart.” Jungkook leaned down, and touched his nose to yours. “I knew you were there.” You leaned your head up to soak in the warmth of his breath as your other arm came around his back, nails tracing random patterns on his broad shoulder. “Damn, Hobi is a shitty alibi.” Jungkook chuckled, “Nah, babe, well yeah” he leaned closer, his lips ghosting over yours, “but I could see the reflection of your pink onesie in the window.” “Well fuck me and my hiding skills.” You breathed on his lips. He leaned his head back and to the side, “We can’t really call them skills, now can we, love?” Your nose scrunched up, “Excuse you, I am very skilled in the art of hide-“ Jungkook’s hand came up, and pulled lightly at the zipper of your onesie, stopping once he exposed where your cleavage and the cup of your red bra met. “Very skilled, indeed.” The gasp that escaped you had nothing to do with the cold air hitting your exposed flesh, and everything to do with Jungkook’s hips pushing into yours. You licked your lips as you hooked your legs around him. “We’re both very skilled, some may even say blessed.” His smirk was intoxicating, and the mischief in his eyes had your breath stalling in your lungs. If your hand would have been anywhere else, you would not of known he was up to something. But as you felt his back muscles shift slightly, you looked to his side and saw snow in his free hand. “Gguk…” The breathy tone of your voice had his smirk widening, and his nose wrinkling. He brought his snowy hand up, and over your bare chest, holding it there. Your eyes met, before you both watched his still hand, and the slowly melting snow shifting along his fingers. Your hand tightened on his shoulder, nails biting in as soon as the first drop of snow started to fall. It hit your chest with a searing silence as your lungs tried to take in all the air around you at once. Jungkook caused all of that air to rush from your lungs in the next moment, as he leaned down and slowly licked the melted snow off your chest. His dark eyes on yours, he placed open mouthed kisses along to the next snow that fell, before his hot tongue came out again to lick the liquid up. The shiver that rocked your body felt like it would of been felt through the very earth beneath you. His lips feathered lightly over to your galloping heart, resting there, as he brought his wet hand up to your throat. He tilted your chin up, before using his three long fingers to paint down your throat with melted snow. The whimper that managed to escape your throat was desperate and eager. Jungkook’s answering noise rumbled from his chest into yours, animalistic and proud, as he leaned up tongue starting at your collarbone, and slowly gliding up toward your chin. Snow fell as his teeth nipped at your pulse point. Your legs tightening around his hips, head thrown back further as your hands pulled him as close as possible. Snow forcefully hit your hand that was on his back, causing you to let go of Jungkook and had him pulling back looking down at you confused. Your brows furrowed as Jungkook shifted up onto his forearms quickly, covering you, right before the sound of snow hitting could be heard. You stared at his chest, as realization dawned, then brought your hands up to cover his exposed neck. A slow clap could be heard as the snow stopped. “Playing grab ass in the snow like a couple of horny teenagers!” Jimin’s voice sounded so proud and amused. “Doesn’t feel good having people storm into your private moment, huh?” Hobi taunted as Taehyung’s laugh rang out just before another smash of snow sounded. Jungkook shifted his head to look behind him, your hands tightening around his neck with the movement. “The hell..?” “Just thought you could use some audience feedback,” came Jin’s reply, “Can’t see shit through your big ass head.” Hoseok’s wheeze was unnecessarily loud, and caused your irritation to skyrocket. “That shit’s not cool, bestie!” You called from under Jungkook. “Shit’s not cool to disrupt my down time, AGAIN!” Hobi shot out. “You and Jungkook with your kinky games…” Jin tried to sound disappointed but his laughter was too clear as another snowball hit your boyfriend’s back. “It wasn’t intentional, EX-bestie! This is kinky? Broaden your horizons to match your shoulders, bitch.” Your annoyance had you letting go of Jungkook’s neck to quickly zip up your onesie, then tapping him so he would move off you, which he ignored. As Jimin and Tae’s giggles rang out, you felt Jungkook tighten himself over you just before the thud of more snowballs hitting his back could be heard. Your hands quickly went back up to his neck, only to be met with clumps of erupted snowballs. You quickly scooped as many pieces as you could and tossed them aside. Jungkook leaned back, his eyes dipping down to see you had zipped up, before looking at you with raised eyebrows. Just as he opened his mouth, you saw a snowball hit the back of his head, the broken pieces scattering around him as his head tipped down with the force. Pushing lightly at Jungkook’s chest, he actually moved back this time into a Half crouch half standing position, amusement written all over his face as he extended his hand to you. Once your hand was in his, he effortlessly pulled you up and into his body, still shielding you. “I’m gonna kick their asses.” You declared fiercely. His hand came up to cup your cheek, fingers tucking some hair behind your ear. “I fucking love you.” Jungkook’s voice was like warm honey sticking to your skin. You leaned up on your tiptoes, hands going to his cold wet neck, “I fucking love you too.” Jungkook’s thumb slid down to your chin, to bring your lips together in a quick promise filled kiss. He pulled back as another snowball hit his back. Your glare was instantly back and aimed in the direction of the snowball launcher, even though all you could see was your boyfriend’s strong chest. His radiant smile had you looking up and ignited your own. “Seems like a good day for war.” Your smile turned into a massive smirk at his competitive declaration. “That’s what I’ve been saying all day!” “Tonight, we celebrate.” Jungkook winked as he stepped back and turned to face his brothers, missing the way your eyes lit up. “Oh shit, Jiminie woke the beast!” Hoseok called out, your eyes easily finding him further back from Tae and Jimin, a pile of snowballs on the ground as he used his gloved hands to make more at an alarming rate. Tae was also trying to stockpile snowballs, but wasn’t getting very far ahead. “Was that a toucan!?” Jimin yelled while turning quickly, stomping on more than half of Taehyung’s snowball collection, squinting at the trees. “Stop, Jiminah!” Tae grumbled as he hunched over, hurrying to make more. “Did you hear that?” Jimin said seriously as he turned, kicking out his leg taking out the rest of the pile. “Whatcha hearing, Jimin-shi?” Jungkook asked from your left. You looked down to see him squatted in the snow, sleeves of his onesie pulled over his hands making his own ammunition. “Sounds like Jiminie’s trying to save himself.” Jin laughed out. You hid your laughter behind a cold hand, wondering where you could grab some gloves for you and Jungkook, as Taehyung reached down, pulled up an arm full of snow, and dumped it on Jimin’s head. The yell that pierced the air sounded like a quack and actually caused birds to fly from the nearby trees. “Forget this, I’m going inside!” Jimin shouted as he turned toward the house shaking loose as much snow as possible. The chorus of boos we all let out were quickly accompanied by snowballs launching at Jimin’s retreating back. Causing him to tuck and roll to hide behind a pile of wood. “It was his idea, wasn’t it?” You asked no one in particular. Hoseok nodded and pointed at Jin too. The grin on your face was full of mischief and anticipated victory as you bent down to start another pile of snowballs. Jungkook sending your eyes to the pile he had been working on, as he placed a snowball into each of your hands. “Let’s get it, babe!”

#Jungkook drabble #Jungkook x reader #jjk x you

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xmyshya · 3 years

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Soft

summary: I am a firm believer that Atsumu CAN be soft. When he wants to. And now he just might. genre: fluff, crack, smut warnings: fem!reader, soft Atsumu, sexual tension, making love at the end, MINORS DNI special thanks: HQHQ and our lovely Atsumu sessions, you guys gave me so much inspiration for the last part. I love you. I love you all. a/n: I don’t want to say that I’m proud of this one, but I am. wc: 2.7k

Looking at the friend sitting across the table in the quiet corner of this adorable cafe, you can’t help but think how crazy it has been. Mostly because he’s an idiot, but you LOVE that idiot. “Y/N? Are ya even listenin’?” “Uhh… yes?” “What were ya thinkin’ ‘bout so hard anyway?” “Okay, uhm, remember when…”

The gym was huge and offered a lot of equipment, half of it having names you’d never heard before. The only problem? It was constantly crowded. Except for crazy early hours, which is why you were dressed in your tracksuit and drenched at 5 am. Yet, you were still not alone at this ungodly time. On the first day, he visibly hesitated before entering, clearly wanting absolutely no company. You couldn’t really blame him, he was probably followed by throngs of fans and paparazzi every day. The man must have deemed you harmless however, because he stayed. Well, at the other end of the enormous room, but stayed. He came back on the next day. And next one. And another, and soon enough you were nodding at each other in a silent greeting. This odd ritual continued on for a few weeks, until… “Hey, ya… come here often?” Fuckfuckfuck, he was still sporting the smug smile, though his eyes were filled with panic. You stared at him dumbfounded. Guess even celebrities struggle sometimes. “Uhh… I… N-no, this is my first time.” Both of you erupted in laughter. “Miya Atsumu, nice to meet ya.” “Oh yeah, I know.” He raised an eyebrow. “I mean… L/N Y/N, nice to meet you too”

“D’ya really gonna rub it in ma face til the end of ma life?” “Nah, I’m pretty sure I’ll forget when I’m old, so I gotta make use of it till I can.” The blonde doesn’t look happy. Amusing. “So what were you talking about?” “Oh right, so there’s gonna be a party for the team and friends, and… uhh… would you like to… be my plus one?” Of course you would like to. Love to. “Lemme know what colours ya wanna wear.” “Ehh? You wanna match or something?” There is a teasing undertone in your question. He either misses it or ignores. “I’ve always wanted to do that…” But you already know. Black and gold, the colours of his team. Yes, obviously that’s the only reason. It’s completely unrelated to your current imaginations of Atsumu looking smoking hot in a black fitted suit, black shirt, and matte gold tie. Totally not.

You’re still adding final touch ups, when the doorbell rings through the air. “Open!” In response there’s a click of the door, opening and closing, and Atsumu announces his arrival with a sigh saying why aren’t ya ready yet. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” You shift from your bedroom to the hall, and he whistles. Sharply. You know you look good in that black dress, hugging tightly all your curves (extra points for a deep notch on the back and thin golden chains), and golden heels. And now, he knows it too. Just like you assumed, he does look great. So great, that the only image filling your head as your eyes run down and up on him is how much you want to rip that suit off of him. Party? You’d rather have a one-on-one party against the wall he’s leaning on. Or a kitchen counter. Or a sofa. Shower maybe? “Are ya checkin’ me out?” Again that smug look on his face. You really want to wipe it off. With your lips. “Must be your imagination.” You push him out of the apartment and lock the door.

One of the greatest mysteries of this world must be why elevator scenes are so… weird. Weirdly hot. You’re both on the opposite ends of the tiny cube, ogling each other and turning your gaze away. “Ya really look beautiful.” “Thank you.” Silence. “You look great too. Perfect ten.” You look him straight in the eyes, and if you have the timing right… “Very fuckable.” Ding and the door opens. You brush his chest while walking out. Atsumu forgets to leave the elevator.

Party hall is already swarming with people when you arrive. Faces from magazine covers flash here and there, some of them entertaining whoever wants to listen, some whispering mysterious promises in eager ears, some just roaming around in search of god knows what. “I’ll get us some drinks” is one of those promises, and Atsumu leaves your side. He’s quickly replaced by one of those roaming creatures. “You here alone?” He’s much too close to your liking. “Actually I-” “You’re beautiful. Absolutely stunning. I’m Shugo-” “Meian!” The voice of your companion startles you with its sudden proximity, but also brings comfort. As soon as the drink is passed in your hand, you feel his touch on the small of your back. “Oh, I didn’t know you two were-” “We’re not.” “We’re friends.” Both of your replies come immediately. Meian straightens up and smiles. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I went for her?” “Not like I have any right to stop ya.” Miya says calmly, but you can feel his whole body tense up against yours.

“Alright everyone, we’d like to make a toast…” Clinking of glasses interrupts your surprisingly pleasant conversation with the MSBY captain, but soon enough he’s back to flooding you with questions. Atsumu walks away to join his other teammates. “Please excuse me.” You don’t even look at the male next to you, focused only on catching up with the blond friend. His questioning gaze burns a hole at the side of your head. “I came here with you.” “Is that the only reason?” Your eyes meet and you give him a lopsided grin. “Nah, you’re much hotter.” He stands a little taller, visibly more confident, fuller of himself. His hand finds its way to your hip and he pulls you a little closer.

Next two hours are spent on the dance floor, countless people already pulling you back before you even step outside of the designated area. You’re currently trapped in the arms of none other than Bokuto Koutarou, and you could swear you were swayed by the sheer force of his alone. But you don’t mind, his energy of a nuclear reactor and megawatt smile fully compensate for any inconveniences. The song comes to an end however, and you quickly follow him back to the table. “Ya don’t wanna dance anymore?” Atsumu asks when you settle in your chair, looking for something to replenish your energy. “Why?” “Ya looked so happy on the dance floor. And yet, yer sittin’ here now.” “Were you watching me this closely?” His ears fire up like Christmas lights. “I do.” “Huh?” “I do wanna dance.” For a moment you’re both just staring at each other in silence. Then you notice gears turning slowly in his head, and, at the moment of realisation, a light bulb. “May I please have this dance?” He holds a hand out, and you place yours in it. Atsumu leads you towards the swaying crowd, and then pulls you close. So close, that your bodies could merge. “And the next one too.” He purrs in your ear.

Miya’s breath on your skin is hot and distracting. Does he feel you shiver every time he exhales on your neck? He must, you conclude, since his palm is resting on your bare back. “Ya smell so good…” The whisper caresses your ear, his lips so close, yet so far. “Mmm… you too.” And those lips curl up.

It’s not just this dance. And not just the next one either. Many dances later and you’re still glued to his body, surrounded by a muscular arm, and one hand still in his. The other one playing mindlessly with his undercut. “Looks like Meian found someone to take home t’night.” “Hmm? Did you?” You pull a strand of his hair and lightly scratch his nape. “Do that again and I might get dangerous.” “Maybe I like doing dangerous things?” There’s a movement near your thigh, and you both hope those words carry a promise.

It’s well into the night and people start leaving, but it seems like the blonde is still not ready to let you out of his embrace. You lean your head on his shoulder, forehead right under his jaw, and let him rock you gently to the slow music. With eyes closed, breathing in his scent, it feels almost as if you two were the only people here. “Are ya tired?” You only purr in response. “Lessgo home then. Wanna stay at mine?” “Oya?” “I-i-it’s… not whatcha think… A won’t… won’t touch ya.” “But if you won’t, then what’s the point?” He freezes, agape, and you wonder how the hell someone so hot can become so flustered. “But seriously, I don’t have a change of clothes” which is a lie, because you do have spare panties in your tiny purse “or cosmetics, or-” “I’ll give ya somethin’ to sleep in.”

The door behind you closes with a quiet click. God, it feels so good to finally, finally take these heels off. You put your purse on a drawer right next to the door, and proceed to take your earrings off, placing them neatly in a tiny pouch. “Tsumu? Could you help me with the necklace?” He doesn’t say anything, instead coming behind you and trying to unclasp the piece of jewelry. Trying, because his hands shake. You take a sneak peek at him through the mirror, at his focused face and slightly poked tongue. He’s so adorable. In the meantime you reach to your hair and start removing the pins, but soon your hands are pulled away and replaced with his. It’s surprising but endearing how gentle this giant man can be. You close your eyes and just enjoy the moment, as your strands tickle your nape one by one. And then something hot and wet tickles your neck, right below your ear. Oh. Oh. “A… ‘m sorry, a didn’t mean to…” Nononono, come back here. You grab his tie and pull him down to a kiss, a searing clash of lips, slowly beginning to move against one another. One of his hands caresses your back, right under the edge of your dress, the other one pulls your hair gently making you gasp. His tongue slides along your lips painfully slowly, and you chase it with yours until the tips meet. The feeling is electrifying, sending shivers through your whole body.

Undressing Miya Atsumu is similar to unwrapping a Christmas present you’ve been waiting for for months. Button after button, you reveal more and more of his heavenly sculpted chest and stomach, your lips following the hands. He loves it, the feeling of your wet muscle soothing the bites drives him crazy, little purrs he lets out make his chest vibrate. It’s almost unbearable. He decides he can’t take it anymore when you hook your fingers under his pants and start unzipping them, grazing his cock. He pulls you close, sliding your dress off of you, and letting it pool at your feet. And then drags you to the bathroom, where he rids both of you of your underwear. The man enters the shower, extending his hand to you, and you grab it by instinct, before being pulled right under the stream of steamy water. “‘Tsumu, I’m gonna look like a panda!” “Eh? But pandas are cute tho?” “I’d rather look hot right now” He laughs boyishly, almost innocently, as he pumps some of his face wash and rubs it gently all over your features. His calloused fingertips massage your forehead and temples, while thumbs work on your chin and nose. It fills you with millions of bubbles, cotton candy surrounding your heart as fluffy as the foam. “‘Tsumu?” “Mmm?” “Kiss me.” And he does. At first it’s slow and sweet, but as your hands wash away the evening from the skin, there’s more hunger, more passion. Atsumu pulls and lifts you, throwing you over his shoulder as he walks out of the bathroom. “‘Tsumuuuu! The towels! We’re NOT sleeping in a wet bed!” “Who said anything about sleepin’, princess?”

Idiot.

Bonus scene: “Good morning sunshine.”

He whispers against your forehead after your lashes tickle his neck. His palms embrace your cheeks, and his lips on yours are as soft as summer rain. Pecks become open mouthed kisses, invitations and promises of summer heat. Breaths and sighs remind you of a seaside breeze, carrying the freshness of waves and hotness of sand. Your hands are roaming in search of a buried treasure, but no matter how much they find, it’s not enough. It’s never enough. His mouth ghost over the shells of your ears, spilling words smooth and shiny like pearls, while fingers trail new paths under the veil of your shirt. They discover new lands, gliding along the skin, making it bloom in tiny goosebumps wherever they touch. Kisses and licks flow at the surface of your neck, sealing and sucking over sensitive spots, painting them in pinks, reds, and purples. Big palms cover the hills of your breasts, thumbs sweep over the nipples so gently, that you’re not even sure if you imagined it.

Your naked body shivers underneath his, and arches into his warm embrace, as his lips press silent praises into your skin. You open your eyes, and you don’t know which is brighter - the sunshine pouring through the windows, or the sunshine of his hair. You can touch his hair though. So you do, and the soft rivers of gold cascade and tickle in between your fingers. Atsumu raises his gaze and smiles against your skin, lighting up your heart.

Reaching your heat, he pulls the strings of your pleasure with each kiss, each flick of his tongue, and you sing the ballad he composes. In this concert you’re the star, you’re the diva, and he’s merely there to worship you, to accompany your voice, to encourage and appreciate. He’s guiding you through the quiet breathy parts, not much louder than a whisper. He’s caressing the keys, adding more passion, more force, more depth, eliciting notes reaching higher, pushing you through a crescendo, rapidly, lovingly, until you’re nothing but an effusion of pleads and cries of his name.

“Atsumu, come back to me.” You breathe out.

And he’s walking the path again, kissing the ground he steps on, coming back to where he belongs, where he wants to belong. Your eyes meet when he glides into you, slowly, carefully, as if any sharp movement would shatter you and this moment. Atsumu nibbles at your lips and you let him in, let his tongue dance with yours, as your fingers intertwine.

One more push joins your hips, and you both let out a breathy sigh. He pulls back and rolls back in, making sure you feel all the veins, until his tip kisses your cervix. And again. And once more.

“Ah… Tsumu…” And he knows he’s lost.

“God, yer so beautiful.”

You’re sinking in his eyes like molten chocolate, and the whole world ceases to exist. There’s only you and him, and the flame spilling from where you’re joined, overtaking your bodies, minds, and senses. It’s too much, it wells up in your eyes and overspills, and he’s quick to brush it away. A kiss is placed on your temple and travels down your cheek and onto your neck. With a free hand you rub mindless patterns on his back, scrape at his nape, while his roams down along your skin, adorning all the curves.

You moan into his shoulder at the sudden touch. He only grazes your clit and you’re fluttering, pulling him deeper inside of you. The movement is slow, as slow as the roll of his hips, as the drag of his tongue on your throat. But it spreads like a wildfire, floods your mind in waves until everything is drowned in a white haze and explodes in a million stars.

“Come with me”

And he does. He paints his own milky way inside of you, releasing galaxies upon galaxies until he pours everything he has, until he’s empty and you’re full. He does, because he would follow you anywhere.

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