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#‘cause haven’t you always wanted to fuck a superhero and REALLY fuck one
khalixascorner · 1 year
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Say it Loud(er) Pt 3
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Summary: When Tony goes before the Senate to protest an inhumane amendment to the Superhero Accountability Act, he doesn't mean to admit he loves Spider-Man on live CSPAN. Rather than recant his statement, Tony rolls with the punches and declares them married too. Now he just has to let Peter know before the press gets their hands on him.
Tags: Accidental Marriage, Public Confessions, no literally, it's mostly fluff with a little bit of spice right at the end.
Fill for Marvel Trumps Hate 2022
Read on AO3 Here Part 1 Part 2
Tony was the last one to arrive at the tower, having gotten held up by bad weather and way more press than he wanted to ever see again. Peter was already waiting in the penthouse, along with May and Rhodey.
Tony sighed and waved for Happy to sit down as well while he headed to grab a coffee.
“Anyone else want one?” Tony asked. He smiled when Peter cautiously raised his hand. 
He made enough for everyone anyway and was soon handing out cups. Friday flashed a quick message across his glasses, so he grabbed one more cup and sat down, setting it in front of an empty seat. Before anyone could ask about it, Pepper was storming into the penthouse.
“Tony, I cannot believe you,” she all but shouted. “You were supposed to be there to help prevent the amendment being passed, not cause a scandal in the 4th quarter. You know how busy we are!”
“Hi to you too, Pep,” Tony said with a weary smile. “Coffee?”
Pepper just stared, taking in all of the people there, then sighed and sat in front of the indicated cup. Everyone sat quietly, their eyes on Tony as they waited for him to start.
“So, I’m sure you’re all wondering what happened today,” Tony started, only to be interrupted as Peter snorted his coffee out his nose.
“Sorry, sorry, Tony, it's just, that’s how you decide to start this conversation,” the kid teased and Tony rolled his eyes, though his shoulders relaxed a little.
“Fine, I’ll start with I’m sorry, kid,” Tony said, giving Peter a contrite look. “I got a little too invested in my speech and the brain to mouth filter turned off, so I recovered it as best as I could in a way that would give us the most leverage.”
Peter opened his mouth, but Tony held up his hand to stop what was most likely Peter’s attempts at telling him it was fine.
“Look, kid, I know you don’t mind because, well, because you always forgive when people fuck up, but this was a fuck up, and my recovery from it, while beneficial to stopping this amendment, is going to have repercussions,” Tony said somberly. “Including you being a legal divorcee at the end, because the marriage is 100% legal and backstopped all the way to Wakanda.”
“Do I at least get the free trip to Wakanda and a honeymoon?” Peter asked flippantly. Rhodey snorted while Tony glared at the other man before turning to Peter.
“I’m serious, Pete,” Tony said, trying to make Peter understand. “I’ll do my best to spin it so it's me they come after but they’ll still hound you for months. And it's not like I could put Spider Man on the marriage certificate, so everyone is going to put 2 and 2 together if they haven’t already.”
“I know, Tony,” Peter replied quietly, his cheerful face uncharacteristically blank. “But we always knew it was only a matter of time, and making it to my third year in MIT is pretty impressive all things considered. And hey, now I can ask to speak in front of the senate too, so it’s not a total wash.”
Tony sighed and shook his head. “Seriously, kid, can you be a little less practically perfect? Some of us have to live with being compared to your example.”
Peter just looked confused while Rhodey chuckled and Pepper sighed.
“We’re going to need to get out ahead of this,” she said as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “And if you get divorced too quickly after, it’s going to look really suspicious. Luckily, Peter was already your heir, so it was a minor change to put him as spouse on your legal paperwork.”
“Wait, what?!” Peter choked out as he spat coffee everywhere.
“Ok, first, ew, don’t spit your drink, you heathen. This is not what I meant by less perfect, and two, why are you confused by that?” Tony asked even as Happy grabbed some towels and threw them at Peter so the kid could clean up.
“I was your heir?” Peter asked, his voice hesitant.
“Yeah, I told you from the start, kid, you’re the future. I’ve had you in my will practically since Germany, though I’ve tweaked it a few times,” Tony said nonchalantly. The absolute shock on Peter’s face was priceless, though really, Tony had told Peter that he was going to be in charge when Tony finally retired.
“I- I thought you were joking,” Peter said faintly, and Tony gave him a gentle smile.
“Hey, it’s fine. You got years yet before you’re getting it, and if you aren’t ready or decide it’s not for you, then there’s a backup in place for that too,” Tony assured him. “I just wanted you to have options and honestly, I can’t think of anyone I’d trust more.”
Peter flushed and nodded, so Tony turned back to Pepper. “You were saying?”
“Right, well, we need to get on top of it. At least release a statement, and preferably schedule a press conference because you’re going to have to explain it to people if you’re going to continue forward like this,” Pepper said, her hands flying across her phone as she made notes. “And if Peter would like to speak before the senate, then we don’t have a lot of time to arrange it. He’ll need to sit with our lawyers and put together a statement that doesn’t open him up to attack for his work as a vigilante.”
“I want to,” Peter said earnestly. “Someone needs to speak for the enhanced and I’m in a good position to do so. I’ve built a good reputation in New York.”
“Alright, we'll take tomorrow morning to rest and I’ll schedule you with the lawyers in the afternoon. I’ll have Friday post the official statements to your Spider Man social media accounts as well as the Iron Man and SI ones. I’ve also already asked her to make sure your personal ones are totally locked down and private.”
“Thank you,” Peter said, and Tony grinned at the soft smile Pepper gave the kid.
“I’m happy to help. This wasn’t your fault, after all, and I’ve been cleaning up after his messes for years,” she teased.
“I’ll try not to make you more work,” Peter said, and Tony snorted. Pepper glared at him then turned back to Peter. “Don’t worry about it. You’re a good kid and it’s going to be just fine.”
“So, why married?” Rhodey asked as Pepper typed away. “You could have said he was your kid.”
“Yeah but that’s a lot harder to fake, and they could have accused us of experimenting on him or something. I didn’t want to risk it and it seemed a safe bet to say married. Plus it pulls on the heartstrings in a different way,” Tony said.
He had been counting on appealing to their own relationships and how they trusted their spouses and trusted themselves to know if something was wrong. It would appeal to the conservative crowd, having a distinct leader who could keep the younger member in check, not that they would approve of the same sex business. Of course, he had failed to consider that Pepper was right. If they got divorced now, it would undermine everything and open him up to potential fraud charges too.
“Ok, but you’re going to be tied to him for months, possibly longer,” Rhodey argued. Tony just waved him away.
“The kid and I can keep doing our thing just fine. He has school, I have work, and I’m not going to mess with that unless we have to,” Tony argued.
“As much as I hate to admit it, Rhodey’s right,” Pepper said with a sigh. “If you’re really going through with this, we’re going to need a minimum of a year to protect everyone. And it can’t look like a sham, Tony.”
“Which means dates and things, doesn’t it?” May asked, joining the conversation for the first time. “And probably living here full time.”
“No dates,” Tony said firmly. “Living here, maybe.”
“What’s wrong with dates if they would solidify our cover?” Peter asked, confused.
“Do you want to be stalked by TMZ? Because that’s what happens when celebrities go out and that’s what we are now,” Tony said with a scowl. “Unless you want a moonlit dinner on the roof, we will be staying in and attracting as little attention as possible.”
“Tony, you can’t do that for the next year,” Pepper said as she crossed her arms. “You can maybe make excuses for a few weeks because of the events in DC, but Peter will have to show his face sometime.”
“And then it will fall apart when we don’t act married enough,” Tony argued.
“So you practice here first then,” Rhodey cut in, and Tony threw his hands up in the air.
“I think, for now, we can just have Peter stay here,” May said calmly. “There’s enough to deal with in regards to that new amendment.”
Everyone nodded, though Peter looked like he had something to add.
“What is it, kid?” Tony asked, exhausted.
“What about school? We’re like, over halfway through and I really don’t want to have to redo the classes,” Peter said nervously.
“I’ll talk to the dean,” Tony said, rubbing his hand over his face. “We’ll set up a virtual learning something due to extenuating circumstances.”
“Can you put in my graduation request too then?” Peter asked quietly. “I’ve had the credits for a couple of the degrees but I had a few last classes I wanted to take.”
“Sure thing, kid,” Tony said, smiling at Peter’s admission. “Glad to know you’ve been putting that schooling fund to good use. How many degrees do you qualify for anyway?”
“Not sure,” Peter said with an embarrassed look.
“I’ll have Friday run the numbers and see where you are credit wise then,” Tony said with a chuckle. “Anything else?”
“You mentioned having Happy get my stuff?” Peter said, and Tony nodded.
“Fri, make a note, have Happy pack up all of Peter’s things and clear his dorm,” Tony said. “And in the meantime, update Petey-Pie’s wardrobe.”
The kid looked like he wanted to protest but then chose not to, instead murmuring a thank you.
“Alright, good talk. May, there’s a guest suite set up for you. Friday will direct you to it. The rest of you, get to work.”
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roe-sesandthorns · 2 years
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super salty thoughts about Dr. Strange MoM, spoilers + rant under the cut  warnings: spoilers, duh. really long. not very complimentary. 
did wanda face no consequences for what happened in westview? legitimate question cause i haven’t seen it and only know the plot + story through osmosis. I thought this was the point of the accords and the oversight and the damn civil war.
it physically makes me puke to hear mcu refer to themselves as earth-616 like no. sweeetie, sit back down, ok? you’re earth-1999999  
they went to one other universe, it was a huge waste of potential BUT I can excuse that cause I understand the limitations from a storytelling/runtime/budget pov but still, disappointing 
ok I loved peggy as the first avenger, monica rambeau as captain marvel, and it’s always a pleasure to see patrick stewart and the inclusion of black bolt was cool (idk if he’s been in other marvel media before but that was my first time seeing him)   
but and that’s a big but, the scene where wanda takes on the illuminati and bodies reed + black bolt and then proceeds to fight peggy + monica felt... off. 
like did they remove the two male members deliberately cause? is it sexist? is it a very shallow, trite attempt at #girlbossing? whatever it was, it felt cheap and weird. and completely disrespectful to all those heroes. especially professor x.
ok, i get it, wanda is supposed to be the Big Bad but the way the superheroes in the mcu become totally powerless in other people’s movies just rubs me weird. like she took barely 30 secs to demolish the entire team. and these are the supposed leaders of the illuminati
why the fuck did wanda of earth-834 or whatever have powers? did she have the same arc as mcu-wanda (i’m not using 616 to describe mcu people cause hell no). but then everything in this world was completely different so how does it compute that this wanda had powers and a normal life. did she have her kids with vision? where was vision? if he died like in infinity war then why was this wanda mentally stable? like what changed?   
why the fuck did stephen from the incursion universe and mcu-stephen have the same damn backstory of both having a sister who died? like how is that something that is constant in multiverses? or was it just a lucky coninkydink? 
i have a lot more, but basically i hate their treatment of the multiverse. i think i prefer any other fanfic writer writing about the multiverse cause they do it so much better. 
i’m not even surprised they tried to give wanda a redemption through death/sacrifice arc cause she changed her mind in the last 2 minutes of the film; disappointed but not surprised. 
like girlie has not even redeemed herself for westview, instead she went full on evil supervillain 
fuck off with the “heartwarming” music and there is NO reason for christine to ask after wanda with concern (other than the fact that christine is amazing and a saint and i love her) but contextually she should’ve been like “the scarlet witch?” (scared shitless) 
also, basically, moral of the whole story: stephen strange can only be happy if he has christine in his life. which seems toxic af, like bro. y’all broke up YEARS ago. you tell her at her wedding that you wish she was still with you, or imply it at least. I would’ve decked him if I were her. Like Christine you’re a saint. I mean you invite your friend (whom you dated a long while back) to your wedding and want to introduce him to your husband and he’s like “im sowwy i miss you” like fuck the fuck off, stephen strange, you ass. don’t make this day about you. 
also can we please kill with fire the idea that you need a relationship to be happy. like, srsly. the whole movie reiterates that if he only “got the girl”, he’d be happy, like no honey. go to therapy. find happiness within you. and in others around you. relationships are amazing and i can totally get pining over Chrsitine cause goddamn i’m doing it too, brother, but really. she’s not gonna fix you or fix your life. i want to engrave kate winslet’s speech from eternal sunshine onto the marvel headquarters entrance cause fuck u marvel. 
another beef with the multiverse, no stephen ever dated anyone other than christine? like my dudes, prime opportunity to really explore just how different the universes are, i mean, come on! 
additionally, it makes the ending seem like a queer ending with stephen and wong reiterating their love for e/o and continuing their cohabitation as they raise their teenage adoptive daughter together. like maybe marvel is saying queer-platonic relationships and aro-ace rights. (hahahahhahah as IF.) 
america chavez was the only ray of hope and the only good thing about this movie and that’s only because her character hasn’t had the time to be handled by 12 different pairs of hands and the mouse overlords’ meddling
also can i just say, 0 character growth all around, great job, guys! 
also also, did i miss an entire movie where mordo goes after stephen? no, so that was just supposed to be one of those things that happened in the interim that we just know because of dialogue. great. so, no emotional arc for stephen having to fight mordo, for the clash of their philosophies, for the consequences of stephen’s actions. 
wait, speaking of consequences, what the fuck were stephen’s consequences for no way home? did he have any? he almost fucked up the entire world on a teenager’s say so. like. i mean. it ended ok but ?????
some technical things: the score was overpowering, there was no room to breathe between moments, the effects gave me a damn headache, and there were some weird transitions thrown in that just felt.... one-note. one or two were cool from a story telling point of view but otherwise it was just. meh.  
tldr; the whole mcu is just like, “consequences? don’t know her” and the mcu multiverse is bland, convenience-based, arbitrary, and boring. also, this wasn’t a dr. strange movie, this was a “look shiny cgi, shiny multiverse, isn’t this fight scene cool? omg that’s professor x, look people from other marvel movies/media! how cool!, we’re self-referential! and COOL!” mess
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lesser-mook · 1 month
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DC HATES And Disrespects Superman
In contrast, they really REALLY want Supergirl to be relevant, to supplant him. Despite her just being a gimmick, a seasonal DLC. Every attempt to try to push her ends in a wet fizzle. Everytime.She's one of the most underwhelming characters in DC but WB can't keep her out of their mouths like she's deep or some shit. They'd sooner give us a "woman of tomorrow" movie than give Cassandra Cain or Jason, or Sodam Yat any time of the day.WE STILL haven't gotten Superboy Prime in a show, or a Starfire movie. Make that make sense to me. So on top of all of that, yea, they're going to neglect a superhero who represents the best of humanity, in an era where humanity is going to shit. And try their damnest to push the knockoff who in theory represents the same thing, just minus any authenticity because again, she's sloppy seconds, badly coped homework that the teacher wouldn't grade because it's so shitty. MOS was a mess, My Adventures with Lois-Chan was a fucking embarrassment. A rushed, wholesome piece of shit, New 52 with a side of Tumblr,  & some cameos because it can't stand on it's own two feet for obvious reasons, it's incompetent and it's garbage. *Just watch The Animated Series.* Superman & Lois, Smallville were decent. Red Son was trash. Injustice was a wet blanket. Somehow, the movie in some ways less insufferable than the comics. DCAMU had so much potential, and ended too soon. This new DC animated movie verse was basically non-existent for me, i don't give two shits. That man of tomorrow movie was a feverdream, the script had 3 things going on, didn't know what it wanted to be. Superman Returns is tricky, him leaving like that is out of character but the movie itself is more Superman than anything we've gotten since. As of 2024 *The most solid depiction of Superman in post 2000 DC, on-screen is the DCAU version.* The biggest issues there are the nerfs, but as for characterization? DCAU Timmverse pulled it off. Cause they definitely amped up his powerlevels as the seasons went on. Superman FOR TOMORROW by Lee & Azzarello. Good read. Also deals with Supes in a modern world where the old school boyscout shit doesn't always work. DC doesn't know what to do with Superman atm, because they forgot the point of Superman. Superboy prime was one of the earlier evil superman takes that worked because he was supposed to be a contradiction, a hypocrite, a glitch in the matrix. He should've been gotten a role as a game boss or something, surprised DCUO hasn't already done it, they're pushing Supergirl because they forgot that they have Superman already, you literally do not need her when Superman exists. They're trying to trivialize him by making him evil 24/7 and replace him with Kara BORE-EL or PowerTits, and no matter how hard they try and have been trying the past 10 years to do it. She'll never replace him. Never. She doesn't have the ability, and never will. She's a party trick. He's the ideal, the blueprint of modern superheroes. DC needs to remember that, they need to remember that they have THE Ultimate Superhero in their possession (until he's public domain & they might buy him again) So they need to put her lame ass to rest, and give love to better characters. Some of them queer, some of them not even humanoid. All they need to do to make Superman work, is just put him in a situation (like war world) where he's deprived of every reason to hope and through sheer will provide hope to the prisoners by never giving up. Like Gladiator but with Superpowers, Superman fighting his way back home, intergalactic action. OR? Just adapting the recent "UP IN THE SKY" story, that as a movie would be a narrative masterpiece for Supes, because that book perfectly embodies Superman. Perfectly. A race with Flash, time travel, inter-galactic battles, Superman going through hell to save one little girl, a serious question of how much one child's life is worth vs the rest of humanity- it's a good story. That is what should be a movie, that movie would fix the DC Superman problem, not entirely but it would be a reset, a needed reset.
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spidey-webz · 2 years
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love ur blog!! could i request dad!andrew! Peter Parker headcanons?
thank you sooo much!!
i love dad!andrew!peter so much tbh
Warnings: very brief mention of death
peter always wanted kids and he was finally granted that wish with you
he is a great dad, no doubt
he’s patient and loving, but can also always make his kids laugh
peter was always a good listener, but when his kids need him, he’s even better than he already was
after your first kid, you were already that you wanted more than one child with this man
he’s the kind of dad that would drive across town (or rather swing) to get his kids’ favourite snack when they haven’t got it at home anymore
you sometimes have to be the responsible parent because peter tends to give your children everything when they ask nicely
even that third ice cream for the day
and ohhh, when they learn to walk, he’s always behind them, cheering them on
when they can already walk, he’s spending hours at the playground with them
every once in a while he lets himself stick to the walls in his suit to make his kids laugh
when they get old enough to understand his superhero identity though, he’s a bit more careful with it
until they’re definitely old enough to keep it a secret
then he’s the cool superhero dad that happens to be half-spider in some way
he’d sometimes annoy the kids with putting webs in their hair or sticking one of their hands to the table when they’re arguing again with each other
but then everyone’s laughing again because their dad is fucking spider-man
even when things aren’t always cheerful and happy, peter is always there for his kids
stress in school? he’d get them food and take over their chores for a while
he’d always make sure to talk with his kids about what might bother them and then also show understanding for their problems
he’s really almost the perfect dad
of course, he also struggles with his own free time a bit
being spider-man and a father and a husband can be quite challenging
and whenever he fights crime now, he has more weight on his shoulders because what happens if he dies?
all of that causes him to be a bit more cautious with what he does and who he gets involved with
but at the end of the day, he will always come home and tug his kids into bed if possible
he’s the kind of dad to give goodnight kisses and tell highschool stories or fairy tales to his kids so they can fall asleep more easily
all in all, he’s understanding, loving and the best dad on the planet
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xpeachesncream · 3 years
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how many drinks? | one shot (jjk)
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summary: the question is - how many drinks would it take for you to sleep with your bestfriend?
pairing: jjk x reader
genre: (18+) college au, dance group au, bestfriends/bestfriends with some benefits au | fluff, smut, sprinkle of angst
words: ~12.2k
warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, kind of crack-y, dancer!jk to fulfill my needs, unprotected sex, sprinkle of dirty talk, fingering, sprinkle of a handjob, slight biting, nails digging into skin, oc almost gets taken advantage of/forced into doing things she doesn’t wanna do, rough handling, song kang is in this too because i’m also a hooch for him but he’s an ass here, alcohol consumption, intoxication, mentions of blunts/smoking, house parties, cuddling, kissing/makeout sessions, straddling, breast/nipple play, hickeys, fucking on the edge of the bed, multiple orgasms, fingering, licking/neck kisses, oral (f. receiving)
note: one shot title is taken from miguel's song ‘how many drinks’ + a couple of things--
both hoseok and jimin’s piece mentioned below are inspired by real-life pieces my old dance mentor has choreographed and taught. this is the inspiration behind hoseok’s couple piece; this is the inspiration for jimin’s piece
i’m a hooch for all three of them in this video
enjoy imagining koo and oc dancing part of their couples piece like this 🥺
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"Y/N." You picked up Jungkook's call as you sat at your desk in your dorm room. You had been finishing up your bio homework until the interruption came blaring through on your headphones.
"Yes?"
"Can I nap in your room?"
"The fuck I look like? A hotel?" You snorted.
"Yeah, a 5 star at that with how good you take care of me." He tries to butter you up, causing you to roll your eyes.
"You're lucky I like you."
"Yesssssssss!" You hear him faintly exclaim on the other line. "Be there in a sec."
"You know my doors are always unlocked." Which, it was true. So many of your friends had decided to live off campus that you and your other bestfriend [and beloved suitemate] were probably the only few left on campus. And that meant people were constantly in your room, hanging out or using both of your rooms, [with permission] or the couches in the shared living room space of your suite as a place to nap. College, amirite? Why the fuck would you lose your parking spot to go back to your apartment when you have friends who lived right on campus? You weren't just good for smuggling free food from the cafeteria to your broke ass, struggling off-campus friends.
Sooner or later, you're greeted by a fluffy, black-haired Jungkook, looking like his shit must have air-dried with how wavy and voluminous it was. He swings your door open so aggressively that you jump a bit in your seat, swinging off your headphones like you weren't even expecting him. You watch as he flings himself onto your neatly made bed like he hasn't felt a bed in years.
"Ugh, yes." He moans as he belly flops onto your bed and stays in that position.
"When's your next class, you little baby?"
"In like an hour or so, I don't know." He says sleepily. "Wake me up, please?"
"Sure." You realize it's Wednesday, and he definitely has Ecology lab later at 3:00PM. You figured you'd wake him up by 2:30 just to give him enough time to groggily walk his ass back over to the science building.
You and Jungkook weren't really close before college. It was moreso that you knew of each other since high school because of mutual friends. You'd see him at parties and he'd see you, but it was never more than the casual hi and bye and small talk. Maybe the occasional comments on facebook pages and the likes on pictures on instagram. But foreel, other than that, that's as real as your friendship got for awhile. You didn't mind it though, you were good with your set of friends and he was good with his. A lot of your friends attended the same university as you two and then your groups intertwined even more. 
But, it wasn't until the past couple of months or so where you both unexpectedly got really close - simply just by talking more and being around each other more. You both had similar interests and Jungkook wasn't the most vocal in his group, but with you, he seemed to talk endlessly. He loved comics and he loved raving to you about Marvel and DC superheroes. He loved to draw, and he'd draw you things every now and then - his most recent being you as a scientist superhero saving the world from overgrown malaria-infected mosquito monsters. It was the cutest thing you had ever seen, and you tacked it against your cork board near your desk. Then, small things like that turned to bringing you food or boba, being stuck at the hip where he'd only go to a certain place on campus if you were there; texting each other inside jokes and funny ass tweets all day turned to facetime sleepover calls and then late hangouts eventually turned to actual sleepovers in your bed, where he'd drape his arm around while you both slept but it never escalated into anything more than that in bed. Although he did fucking hate your medium-sized Olaf plushie that took shelter on your bed - he'd always hike it across the room and talk about how annoying he is and how he's always taking his spot. You never understood it, really.
And then soon, it turned to small displays of affection behind closed doors, where Jungkook would hold you close. Hold your hand if you two were in the room watching a show, or movie. Small kisses exchanged. Big kisses exchanged, making out sessions. But, that was literally it. Nothing else. No sex. No pressure. Lots of unspoken feelings, obviously, but you weren't gonna be the one to bring that up. Because you were comfortable, and if anything, you didn't wanna ruin what you guys already had going.
Like, is this a friends with benefits thing? Maybe? Maybe not? It was hard to label it because it's not like you both determined so, it kind of just fell together that way. And there was really no pressure to fuck every single time you got affectionate. It was cute, sweet. And no one really knew it was like that behind doors - possibly your suitemate Kass and her boyfriend, Jimin, but that's only because you shared the dorm suite with her. Jimin was also one of Jungkook's roommates and his really good friend, so whenever they had slept over on the same night, it was pure and utter chaos. But honestly, if Kass and Jimin hadn't been around you two much, they most certainly wouldn't have the idea.
Whatever it was, it was a comfortable closeness that you both experienced and appreciated. However, the both of you were afraid of discussing what this really was, afraid it'll ruin the dynamic. The atmosphere. Having to come to terms of what it might, or might not be. Neither of you can fully admit that you like the other. Although, it got hard. People did lightly tease you two because you both always looked for each other and were stuck by the hip out on campus.
Oh, well. Bottom line is that you liked your relationship where it was at, but it doesn't mean you haven't thought about the what if's. Jungkook was insanely attractive, and it's no lie that girls swarmed him left and right on campus, but he didn't give a shit [either he didn't give a shit or he was dumb as hell?]. Okay, rewind — to be fair, he would have a fling or two, flirt once or twice. He'd tell you so and so was cute and that they've hung out or texted, but that's it. He just wasn't necessarily looking for anything cause he too enjoyed where he was at with everything.
It doesn't take long before Sleeping Beauty is snoring face down on your bed, looking like Patrick Star with the way he's sprawled out. But, you continue to do your work until it was time to wake him. You gently shake him, his puppy eyes looking back at you after being face down all nap.
"Class time."
"No." He groans. "Can't I just stay here with you?"
"No, dude. Get to class." You chuckle. "You already skipped last week."
"Yeah, but this is a new week Y/N."
"Jungkook." You almost say in a scolding manner.
"Fiiiiiiine." He whines as he shoots up and hops off from your bed. "Are you going to our party on Friday?"
"I said I'd think about it right?"
"Yeah, like on Monday. It's Wednesday."
"And I'm still thinking about it." You snort, making him pout.
"Just come for a little bit."
"Why? You know parties aren't my thing and you'll be too drunk anyways. I'll end up wanting to go right the fuck back home as soon as I step outside."
"I'd like to be drunk and have you there. It'll be more fun!" He pouts as he holds your hand and swings it back and forth.
"I mean, to be completely honest, I'll probably end up going because of Kass anyways."
"Because of Kass." He rolls his eyes. "Oooookay. Not because of you, Jungkook, no." He says sarcastically, brows furrowed.
"Ew. You're such a fucking whiner. Leave." You laugh, throwing an empty water bottle at him.
"I'm kidding." He chuckles. "Wanna grab dinner with me after practice?"
"Sure. If you pay." He groans
"Fine. I'll see you later." He puckers up his lips to blow you a kiss, which you automatically reject by giving him a look before turning your attention back to your homework. You were hoping he'd offer to go to In-n-Out because you were craving that #2 with animal fries and a neapolitan shake, plus there was a Target in the same plaza that you wanted to drag him to for new pens and clearance sale shopping. And you wouldn't even warn him about it. He would tag along, no question.
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Hoseok stands in front of the mirrors in the studio, pacing back and forth as your dance group learned a couple of 8-counts from this new piece he had been brewing up. Apparently, it was supposed to be a couples piece but he wasn't sure if he was going to keep it that way. He watched to see if this would be better as a group, or if he should stick to his original plans.
Your college dance group was a small group formed by people with pure, genuine interest and love for modern hip hop choreography. Hoseok was the dance lead, with Jimin being the back up lead. The group came together, taught each other pieces, taught workshops for those interested on campus and performed at the various talent shows and productions the school had throughout the year. It was just your group's way of showcasing your talents, something you all purely enjoyed, and it was nice to see the love and support given by the audiences.
"Okay, run that from the top one more time please. We'll take break after, swear." Hoseok chuckles and gives Jimin the cue to start the song back at the starting point. Jungkook makes a funny face at you as he huffs and puffs, trying to catch his breath from the last time you went through the counts.
"Ew." You giggle, slightly pushing him aside. Miguel's How Many Drinks begins to blast through the studio speakers, Jungkook doing his best to sing along and match his tone all while focusing on his steps. Once you're done going through the counts, the music continues to play, Jungkook twirling over to you just to sing—
"Cause I ain't leavin' aloneeee, I feel like I could be honest, babe." He spins to your other side. "We both know that we're grown, that's why I wanna knooooow - how many drinks will it take you to leave with meeeeEEeeeE?"
"You can give me all the drinks in the world and I swear I still wouldn't." You snort, making him frown and click his teeth.
"Too bad that's not really how you act when I ask to sleep over, though." Silence as you stick your tongue out at him. Cause, yeah. You really do tell him to sleep over without hesitation. You loved his company, you can’t lie. "Yeah, fraudulent as hell. I never taught you that." He jokes.
"Shut up, Jungkook—"
"Okay!" Hoseok says, clapping his hands. "This'll be a couple piece. I honestly think it'll work better that way, just like I envisioned it. I'll work with the couple to clean this up before the performance, but to whoever isn't casted for this, Jimin still has a piece to teach the rest of you, so don't feel discouraged!" Hoseok chuckles a bit, giving the rest of the group a small smile. "So with that being said - Y/N, Jungkook, I want you two to do this piece."
"Ouuuuuuuu." Jimin teases you from the sidelines, causing you to put up your middle finger.
"We won’t let you down, cap." Jungkook swings his arm around you.
"I'll teach you the rest of the piece next practice so we can start polishing it up and making it clean before the talent show."
"Sounds good with me." You flatly say, even though 100%, you're pretty excited for many reasons. One, you had been wanting to do a solo or couples piece for awhile, and two, your partner was Jungkook. Your best friend, your ride or die, the dude you've spent so much time with and gave your affection to behind closed doors. It made you giddy just thinking about it, even if you'd blatantly lie to his face later on when he'd tease you. And Jungkook felt the same. You missed the way he subtly bit on his bottom lip when you were named his partner, just so he wouldn't smile too big in front of you.
After practice, you egg him on enough to agree to take you to In-N-Out, without hinting at the plan you had drafted out in your head earlier.  The plan that says you're gonna drag his ass to Target afterwards and he had no choice but to come along.
"Y/N, you liar." He groans. "You said you weren't gonna go to Target." He pouts as you follows behind you anyway.
"Kook, I literally just need to get one thing."
"What's the one thing that you couldn't get on your own time?"
"I don't know, I'll have to find out when we get in there." You giggled, causing him to groan again. "Plus, we're here already. Killing two birds with one stone."
"Ah shit, I suppose I can get some bottles for the party."
"Yeah, make yourself useful Jungkook."
"Yeah, make yourself useful Jungkook, aheh." He mocks your tone and does that really weird and ugly ass laugh that dudes always do when they try to mock girls, however, you ignore it because you've just stepped into Target and bitch, this was Disneyland to you. Heaven. Paradise.
"Hm, what are we drinking on Friday?" He says his text outloud as he follows you around the dollar section where you begin to pick up really unnecessary items that you're probably just gonna store away in or around your desk somewhere.
"Should be holy water because you all need it."
"Mmm, I don't know, I don't think they have that but we can check." He responds ever so seriously, causing you to chuckle.
"How many people are you expecting?"
"Honestly, I don't even know. We said we'd keep it to close friends only. I don't really have any friends, so that's all on them."
"Ah, makes sense as to how the entire class was invited." You fire back sarcastically. "Your upstairs neighbors are really gonna have a blast."
"They're invited too."
"You guys are so dumb." He laughs when you hit him against the chest. After walking a bit, the two of you head towards the alcohol aisle, Jungkook grabbing what his arms will allow him to grab since alcohol is a little cheaper here than other grocery stores. "Isn't there a limit as to how much alcohol you can buy?"
"I don't see anything anywhere." He hauls about 4 big bottles back to the cashiers. "Besides, I'm giving them business compared to Safeway and those other grocery stores."
"Grab the coupon at least, genuis. It could save you some money." You take off the coupons from the three bottles.
He looks down at the coupon attached to the 4th bottle. "Sign up today and get 2% cash back on every bottle you buy." He snorts after reading the coupon outloud. "More like sign up today and get 2% cash back turnt." He looks at you. "This doesn't sound like a coupon, miss. Where's the ‘get 5 dollars off’ bullshit?"
"2% cash back turnt? Really?" You furrow your brows at him and hand the coupons to the cashier. "Here. God, maybe you shouldn't be hosting parties with your roommates."
"Maybe not." He holds his bags, even grabbing onto yours as you both walk out to his car. He turns up the radio, the both of you singing along to the songs coming through. When he pulls up to the lot of Edgehill Village, he parks in someone else's marked spot only because it's technically next to your door and he doesn't anticipate to stay long. But honestly, that never goes as planned. He grabs your bag from the trunk, silently following behind you as you unlock your door to an empty suite - just as you expected. Kass was most likely at Jungkook’s, spending the night with Jimin, and you'd be alone for the night. It didn't matter to you though, the peace and quiet was always nice.
"You sure you're gonna be okay here alone?" You nod.
"Yup. It's kind of nice actually." You lean forward onto your bed since it's raised a little higher than usual with bed risers, and open up your laptop. Jungkook sets your Target bag down and wraps his arms around you from behind, planting a kiss on your cheek and on your jawline.
"You sure you don't want me to sleep over? Cuddles sound nice."
"It sounds like you want to."
"Only if you want me to." He nuzzles his head against your neck, waiting for your response.
"Kook, please." You chuckle. "If you wanna sleepover, then go ahead."
"Yesssss! I do."
"Well you need to find parking, or else the person that owns that parking spot will be highly upset."
"You got it, captain. Pull up a movie!" He says, dashing out of your room to move his car. He's most likely going to come back in another 5 minutes, being that the only free parking at this time of night is probably on the other end in the gym's lot, or somewhere on the streets [if he got lucky].
And so that 5 minutes sure does go by before Jungkook is breathing heavily when he walks into your room, duffle bag swung over his shoulder with a big, dorky ass smile on his face.
"I'm back!"
"I see." You snort, still going through the movies.
"Hey, let's run through what Hobi taught us first."
"Ugh, I'm so tired though."
"Cooooome on, just once." He pulls you by the hand, his body pressed against yours as his his other arm wraps around your waist. "Please." His puppy dog eyes look down at you, causing you to push him away because fucking hell, that shit makes you weak. Makes the pussy throb just a lil, you know? Christ.
"Only if you watch 10 Things I Hate About You."
"Sure, I don't mind." He pulls up the song on your laptop. The both of you face the mirror in front of you, careful not to hit each other since you had such limited space to fully move around. Running through it once was a full blown lie, being that you both are doing it for almost 5-6 times before you're laughing at how out of breath you already are. You're so out of it and winded by the last time around that you accidentally hit Jungkook in the face, causing him to whine and stumble off to the side.
"Oh shit!" You laugh. "I'm so sorry, Kookie!" You run over to cup his face. "Are you okay? You good?"
"Shit, Y/N. You have a heavy hand." He keeps his hand against his cheek.
"I'm sorry." You lean in to plant a kiss on his cheek, but Jungkook being Jungkook, he looks to the side to have his lips meet yours instead. He picks you up in one swift motion, your legs wrapped around his torso as he sits you on your bed, your hands still cupping his face. And honestly, you really wanted him. You've always wanted him since this whole thing started. God, he was attractive to you - every little thing about Jungkook was a fucking weakness, but you weren't gonna let up first. Not tonight. The scar on his cheek, his soft, fluffy hair, his toned body, his muscular ass arms, the way he held onto you when you both slept, the way he kissed you.
Lord, he was truly going to be the death of you.
Before the kiss could get any deeper, you smile into it and back away, keeping your gaze on the small, dazed smile Jungkook has on his face.
"Can we watch now?" You ask, subtly biting onto your bottom lip.
"Yeah, good idea."
"Actually, after all that, I need to shower first."
"Can I join?" His eyes light up.
"Sit your ass down. You can go after." You laugh as you hop off the bed, grabbing your pajamas for a quick shower. You literally take 10 minutes, walking back into your room with wet hair and an oversized shirt and shorts underneath. Although you had been completely comfortable with Jungkook, the both of you have never really seen each other fully naked like that. Whenever he slept over, you were both always fully clothed. You've seen him hop out of the shower and come in shirtless, but that's probably about it. You start to brush your teeth as he rummages through his emergency duffle bag full of shit that he holds in the trunk of his car, grabbing a fresh pair of clothes to change into after his shower. You already know his ass is gonna use your shampoo for everything because he loves the smell of it and always talks about how good your hair smells.
While waiting for him, you slip yourself under your covers and pull the laptop closer to you, scrolling through your phone aimlessly to see what's new on instagram. Which, is absolutely nothing, so you let out a dissatisfied sigh.
"Ready!" He comes in, tossing his towel aside and shutting off the lights to crawl into your bed with you.
"You smell just like me." You chuckle.
"It's great, isn't it?"
"Your hair isn't bothering you?" You run your hand through his incredibly wet hair as he shakes his head.
"No, I'll be good."
"Okay." He wraps his arm around you to pull you onto his body, the movie already off to a start. As the movie goes on, you find yourself getting sleep as both of your bodies sink deeper into the sheets, Jungkook still not letting you go. The laptop rests on his belly, while your head is on his chest, his heartbeat the one thing putting you to sleep pretty quickly. He's comfortable, just as you are. He's warm, you're warm. He's content, you're content. You drift off to sleep while he continues to watch, knowing your bodies will be pressed tightly against each other in the morning.
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"Kook there's so many fucking people here. The cops are gonna come and shut this down quick." Jungkook shrugs.
"Oh well, wasn't my idea." He snorts. "Shot?!" He hands you a shot that you take with ease, feeling like you aren't drunk enough for all this shit and all these people. "Atta girl."
"Yuck, though." You slightly make a sour face as you feel the warmth trickle down your throat and into your stomach.
"Heeeey, whyyyyy do you look so FaMiliaR?" This girl asks Jungkook in a weird, flirty tone, where every other consonant goes up and down. She's obviously really fucking drunk and out of her mind because for one, she definitely goes to the same school as you two, and she has definitely been in class with Jungkook before.
"Oh uh, my name's Justin Bieber. I used to sing from time to time." He says nonchalantly with you furrowing your forehead at him because what kind of response did he just give her?! What did he just tell her? You're so embarrassed that you slowly turn on your heel and walk out of the kitchen as you hear him sing One Less Lonely Girl hella out of tune, with the girl completely smitten over his drunk ass.
"Where's Jungkookie?" Kass asks as she sits on Jimin's lap.
"Over there, pretending to be Justin Bieber apparently."
"Oh, nice. You don't come across that often." Jimin says sarcastically. "Are you staying here tonight?"
"Yeah, stay here tonight, with Kookie." Kass wiggles her eyebrows, her cheek resting on top of Jimin's head. "It's not like that's anything new."
"Um, I'd rather much be back in the dorm."
"That cold, lonely place? When you could be here, in such a pretty apartment with such a pretty boy?" You shake your head at her.
"Unbelievable." You mutter. Suddenly, an incredibly tall man walks into the apartment, reaching about 6'1 and almost hitting the ceiling with his tall ass. You've never seen him before, but he walks in with Hoseok and Namjoon and for whatever reason, you can't peel your eyes off of him. "Woah, who's that?"
"Who's what?" Jungkook finally comes to your side after being Justin Bieber for a good minute or so, his eyes following yours. Who was he and why were you looking at him so intensely?
"That's Kang! You've never met him?" Jimin says, doing a slight nod to greet him as he passes by. Kang and his fine self looks up at you, a small smirk creeping up at the corner of his lips as he continues through to the kitchen behind Hoseok and Namjoon. "He's a transfer and on the basketball team."
"He's fiiiiine." You and Kass swoon over him a bit, Jungkook giving you a look.
"He's alriiiight. I've seen better."
"Shut up, no one asked you." You lightly punch him on the side, making him lightly groan while Jimin and Kass laugh. The rest of the party, you suddenly have a goal to find out more about Kang and see what he's about because you and Jungkook weren't official. You both didn't really know what this was, but one thing you knew for sure was that it wasn't anything exclusive. You wouldn't bring it up, so wouldn't Jungkook - so was this really something all that meaningful?
Whatever, you didn't wanna keep going in circles about it.
Jungkook fucking hates it though, and he's honestly really jealous that you're suddenly trying to be all cute and woo the new, tall, handsome [but he's not really that fucking handsome to Jungkook for christ's sake] basketball player. Jungkook almost wants to mock his every move and how suavé he is, almost looking like a try hard with the way he's leaning against the wall and talking to you.
Wait— he's talking to you?! You were literally right next to him 2 seconds ago.
"What the fuck?" He squints, trying to make sure he's actually looking at you.
"You're so full of shit." Jimin laughs.
"What are you talking about?"
"Why don't you just admit that you like her and stop being childish about it?"
"I don't like her. She's just my bestfriend."
"Um, okay?" Jimin snorts. "When you sleep at her place every chance you get and vice versa? When she has a ton of your shirts and hoodies in her own fucking closet? When you always get so affectionate with her in the dorm? Sure, you don't like her."
"How do you know that?"
"I just do, you've done it in front of me and Kass before but you both tried playing it off. I don't understand you two."
"Well, I don't like her. She obviously doesn't either with the way she's trying to be all up on him." Jungkook glares at you, his teeth biting the rim of the cup harshly as he brings it to his lips to take a sip.
"Whatever, I'm just saying dude. Probably better to be straight up about it than not."
"Kaaaaaaay." Jungkook responds sarcastically, trying to play off how butthurt he was right now. Cause yeah, he did fucking like you. He was just scared to admit it though because of reasons like this - the fact that you possibly didn't like him back killed him. The fact that you could possibly be using him to feel wanted, needed. It made his stomach turn.
He just really liked you, and god, did he want to be the one in your bed tonight. Whether or not that ended up in sex, whatever. He just wanted to be the one to touch you, be on you.
Meanwhile, Kang was attractive as hell and ouwee, were you feeling him tonight. You were, you really were - except, you could literally feel the holes Jungkook was burning through you from across the room. You'd occasionally glance over due to how distracting it was, Jungkook literally have no shame with eyeing you, almost glaring at you, from across the apartment.
"Is it too forward if I ask for your number already?" Kang licks his lips, his teeth lightly piercing his bottom lip as he looks down at you.
"No." You smirk at him, taking his phone to put your number in.
"We should kick it soon. I'd love to hang out with you and get to know you better."
"Yeah, just let me know when." You blush, until you're suddenly pulled out of your daze by a loud 'ahem,' the loudest throat-clearing you have ever heard in your life. You turn to see Jungkook making his way back over to the shots, knowing damn well he's calling you over. "See you around?" Kang winks before he tips his cup to you and gives you a single nod.
"Sure thing, cutiepie." You bite onto your bottom lip, making your way over to Jungkook at the shot station, instantly pinching his arm.
"What the fuck?"
"Nobody was calling you over." Jungkook smirks.
"Shut the fuck up, yes you were. I know that was you clearing your throat like that."
"I'm sorry, does it bother you?" He blinks cutely, tilting his head to the side. "Besides, why come over here when you're too busy with your man?"
"Are you jealous?"
"Why in the hell would I be jealous, Y/N? Do you." The words sting you, even though part of you still wants to believe that Jungkook may actually like you. All you can do is sigh and brush it off, placing your cup down in front of him as he pours himself another shot. "You sure?"
"Just give me the damn shot." You say, making it your 7th.
And the 7th turns into 8, 8 turns into 9, 9 turns into 10. And at 10, you're pretty fucking drunk even as the party is starting to die down by the time it's close to 2am. All 10 were a good combination of shots and mixed drinks.
10 drinks.
10 drinks is what it took for you to lay in Jungkook's bed at the end of the night, hands tangled in his fluffy hair as your makeout session intensifies by the minute - all due to this sexual tension, frustration, whatever the hell it was brewing between you two after all this time. The both of you are drunk as hell, and it's pretty evident with the way you can still taste the alcohol on his tongue, both sloppily touching up on each other, kisses getting wetter, clothes coming off like there's no tomorrow.
"Wait, are you sure?" Jungkook says, about to unhook your bra.
"Jungkook, god, just fuck me." You plead drunkily, the room spinning around you. He continues to unhook your bra, tossing it across the room where your other clothes lay, peppering kisses along your neck before licking up a stripe to meet your lips again. He hooks his fingers across the band of your panties, tugging them down and letting them get lost within his sheets. You take this as leverage to tug his boxer briefs down, already stroking his hardened member the moment you come into contact with it. The sad thing is that you both are so fucking drunk, you can't even appreciate the fact that you both are naked in front of each other for the first time ever.
You can't even come to terms with the fact that you both are about to fuck each other and cross that boundary completely.
But, hell, what do you care? You were drunk. You got a cute guy's number. You're getting dick at the end of the night.
"Oh shit, Y/N." He moans into your mouth as he feels you stroking him. "Need to feel you." He quickly runs his finger down your fold, slipping in two digits to pump them in and out, quickly prepping you for his dick.
"Hnnng--Kook." You bite onto your bottom lip as your eyes shut close momentarily, your head digging deeper into the pillow the more he tries to stretch you out. "Want you inside of me."
"I got you." He says. You almost whine at the loss of contact until you feel his tip poking at your entrance. He slowly continues to slip himself inside of you, Kook letting out a small groan while your mouth was left open, a soundless moan releasing before you hiss and take in all of him. He fills you up so well, so completely. He was so big that you felt full, bloated, with him being inside of you the way he was.
"Ohhhhhgod." You whimper as he starts to steady his pace, the lewd noises of his cock slipping in and out of your wet pussy filling his room - god forbid if Jimin or their other roommate Yoongi heard this right now. It would be nothing short of pornographic.
"You're so wet. Is that all for me?" He says, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head as he begins to aggressively thrust into you.
"Y-yes." You whine.
"Say it again."
"All for you, Kook."
"I fucking thought so." He drunkily responds as one hand grips onto your hips tightly, the other in your hair as he digs his head back into the crook of your neck, his tongue messily licking near your jaw before he nibbles onto your earlobe.
"Hmmmmgggh, Jungkook. Fuck." You moan as you start to work your hips upward into his, your clit rubbing against his pelvis, causing the pleasure to pool quickly within the pit of your stomach. It causes goosebumps to pierce through the surface of your skin, your hands gripping tighter on his hair. "You're-you're gonna make me cum. Faster." You plead. He does just so, hammering into you, the sound of his hips slamming into yours bouncing off of the walls.
"Ahhh—Y/N." He groans.
"Just like that, just like that, just like that!" You repeat, your clit feeling incredibly stimulated by the way it rubs against his skin while he fucks into you. "Oh shit! Jungkook!" You moan loudly, biting his shoulder as you feel yourself trembling hard in his grip, your orgasm taking over your entire body.
"Shit, shit, shit—Y/N, Shiiiit." He says into your neck, followed by more curses and groans as you feel him coat your walls warmly. He stays inside of you until the both of you come back down to normalcy, your breathing becoming more regulated. He slowly slips himself out, plopping next to you on the bed, but doesn't welcome you into his arms.
The night goes on, the both of you sleeping on your own sides of Jungkook's bed, not really saying a word to each other. Because the both of you, although still pretty drunk, are more aware by the time it's over and it's become so clear how fucked up this got.
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You were hurt. Completely hurt. Because you didn't expect Jungkook to just fucking ghost you after that night. You wanted to talk about it, maybe come to the conclusion that you two should just distance yourselves from each other to figure this out, even if it would hurt you a lot to do so.
No.
That morning, Jimin and Kass had to take you back to campus because Jungkook had darted out of his room, nowhere to be seen until later that night. The next week or so, there were no texts, no calls. No visiting your dorm, no asking to sleepover.
Nothing.
Just radio silence, white noise, if you will.
The one thing he could come up with was a stupid response to your text when you finally caved and asked what you did wrong mid-week.
Something along the lines of 'what do you want me to say, Y/N? do you want me to force myself to feel a certain way?'
Followed by a 'i'm sorry, fuck. that came out really wrong' even though you thought it came out perfectly fine. You understood loud and clear.
Even though this wasn't really an exclusive thing, or even a 'thing' if we wanna be straight up, you still couldn't help but feel like Jungkook had just dumped your ass with no explanation and you were still waiting for that explanation to come, whether it would or not. And because of this, you started to see Kang, hangout with him more often. He even took you out on a dinner date and you really enjoyed his company. He seemed genuine, caring, supportive - even if a lot of the basketball boys were the complete opposite. He was different, you liked to think.
And so you stand in front of the mirrors in the dance studio, you and Jungkook awkwardly running through the piece with Hoseok watching, confused as to why all of a sudden the two of you have this weird tension going on. It hasn't entirely ruined the couple piece, but it hasn't brought it together, either. The both of you could barely look at each other, barely get into the movements, the emotions behind the motions. Hoseok had to correct a few things, his 'pah pah pah's' echoing in the room constantly with how many times you and Jungkook had to be set straight for your sloppy steps today.
"Okay, I'm not saying it's bad, cause it's not. But can you both please act like you at least like each other or something? What's going on with you two? You aren't normally like this." Hoseok says, coming down to a crouch in front of the mirrors.
"Nothing, we'll do better. Don't worry." You brush off the entire question with your quick response. Jungkook looks at you, his hands on his hips, lightly frowning at how much you're distancing yourself even though he knows its entirely his fault for running from his feelings and not being honest with you.
"Okay, let's do it from the top." The music starts, you getting into the piece without making any eye contact with Jungkook. Even the steps that cause you to be close and near Jungkook, you look anywhere but his eyes, and your touch is light, trying your hardest not to let any feelings pass through the motion. Hoseok is a little more pleased this time around, but it still doesn't sit right with him, so he lets you two take a break while he heads to the other studio to check on Jimin and the rest of the group.
"Hey. Are you okay?"
"Jungkook, you don't get to ask me that." He sighs and runs his hand through his hair, not sure if he should continue on or not.
"Y/N—"
"Save it, and let's just get this over with, okay? I don't wanna be here just as much as you." Your words cut him deep because dear, you have gotten him completely misunderstood and yet, he still can't speak. He still can't talk about his feelings. He still can't save this even though he wants to, even though he loathes seeing you the way you are with Kang.
"I never said—"
"Kay, ready? Let's run this full out and make it a good one so we can call it for today." Hoseok says, clapping his hands to hype you two up somehow. The music starts and you're finally able to get into the steps. The emotions. And god, it's only because you're so hurt by your own bestfriend. You're hurt that he fucked you so good, and then dipped. You're hurt that he couldn't even face you the day after. You're hurt that after all this time, he made it seem like you still didn't matter enough - at least enough for an explanation, for some kind of reasoning, conversation, behind what just went down between the both of you. Between what has been going down between the both of you.
Besides the stupid ass responses he gave you through text.
You get so into your feelings that you don't even realize you're tearing up by the time the piece is over, and Jungkook catches it even though you face away from him as soon as the music cuts out.
"Nice, okay! That was so much better! Let's pick it up next session, yeah? We'll keep cleaning it up. Thanks guys!" Hoseok says. You immediately head towards the wall, grabbing your things to avoid any confrontation from Jungkook, but he grabs your arm as soon as you slip through the door.
"Y/N, wait. Stop."
"Let me go." You yank your arm from his grip.
"Why are you crying?" He stops in front of you, his hands placed on your arms to prevent you from moving any further.
"I'm not." You blatantly lie while you aggressively wipe away the stragglers coming down.
"Really? Just gonna lie like that?"
"Why do you care? You haven't said shit to me all week." You snap back, and Jungkook is taken aback from the tone in your voice. You remove his hands from your arms, and take one last look at him before shaking your head and walking off.
Next mistake? He doesn't come after you.
This was a waste of fucking time. If he truly cared about you, he wouldn't let you hurt like this.
You let out a deep sigh before clutching onto your things and walking back to your dorm. The walk from the gym/fitness center was damn near on the other end of campus compared to your dorm. It would be a good 10 minute walk if you really took your time. A good 10 minutes to ponder on your thoughts.
Yes, you liked Jungkook. You really liked him. Having sex with him solidified those feelings even more. How could you not have feelings for your bestfriend after all the moments you've shared? Was it your fault for assuming that? Was it your fault for walking through that door when it seemed to be completely open for you?
"Sup." Kang comes out of nowhere, pulling you out of your thoughts. He swings his arm around your shoulder, gently pulling you closer to his body.  "Just got out of practice?"
"Sure did." You give him a toothless smile. Yes, he was attractive as hell. He always will be. But, even with the time you spent together, the date he took you on, he still couldn't make you feel the way Jungkook has been able to make you feel.
"How was it?"
"Um, it was alright. Nothing new really, just cleaning up the piece before the show. You're going right?"
"Why wouldn't I?" He smiles down at you. "Listen, I don't know if you've heard, but there's another party tonight."
"A party? It's Wednesday." You snort.
"Yeah, I mean, one of the boys on the Lacrosse team is throwing it at his family house because his parents will be gone. Wanna come? I'll pick you up. We don't have to stay for long." You looked at your watch.
"What time is it at?"
"Like 9ish?" Enough time for you to shower and get a quick dinner in your belly. Why the hell not? You were caught up for the week. You didn't have any pressing assignments that were due asap.
"Sure. I'll come."
"Cool. See you later then?" He says, about to part ways with you. You simply give him a nod before walking deeper into Edgehill village. You hoped you wouldn't regret this tonight, and you really hoped he meant it when he said you two didn't have to stay for long. You drag yourself into your room, seeing Kass' door wide open, revealing her packing up her duffle bag.
"Hey, where are you headed during the middle of the week?"
"My two classes got cancelled for tomorrow so me and Jiminie are heading out for a mini getaway for our anniversary." You cross your arms and smile. "He's just gonna catch up on shit when we get back I guess." She laughs.
"That sounds cute. I hope you have loads of fun this weekend, babe."
"What are you gonna do?" Kass and Jimin were obviously aware of everything happening between you and Jungkook being that they had to be the ones to take you home. They never pressed on it though, knowing you both were still pretty upset about how things were playing out. They figured you two would eventually work it out, but until then, they would just sit back and keep their mouths shut. You two were being completely stubborn, but it wasn't their relationship to fix.
"Well, there's this party Kang wants to take me to tonight."
"The Lacrosse party? Messy." She laughs. "Be careful, but also have fun, yeah? I still don’t know if I trust him.”
"Yeah I know."
"Tell me how it goes!"
"I will." You wave her off as you head into your room and shut the door. You figured you would just grab dinner on campus to avoid spending more money than you should; after all, dinner seemed to be pretty bomb tonight. You didn't mind going alone, sometimes Namjoon would join you, asking for you to bring him a plate of food while he does the hard job of sneaking inside the cafeteria through the back door. He usually waits for you at a free table and ends up staying there to have dinner with you, updating you on how life has been, how school has been. Sometimes Hoseok would join you, too. Either way, you didn't mind if no one joined. It was nice to have dinner by yourself from time to time.
You get there on time to be able to grab some food, eat quietly and head out before the cafeteria gets way too busy for your liking. You slip into the shower and throw on a mini skirt, a crop top and a denim jacket, lightly fluffing your hair in the mirror and adding a dab of lip gloss to your lips before Kang is calling you to tell you he's outside your dorm. He's wearing something similar to your color palette, however, you don't make much out of it since this also wasn't really an exclusive thing and you sure as hell weren't going around telling people you and Kang had a thing going on.
To him, you two might be a thing. You've definitely overheard people talking about you two in passing.
To you though, you two definitely weren't. And it was a big fuck you to Jungkook for that.
The house is packed from end to end already, and you're surprised being that it has barely hit 10 minutes since the party was expected to take off. Kang is having to park down the hill, allowing you to hop onto his back for a quick piggy back ride up until you reach the front of the house. There's people already fucked up out on the lawn [you figured they fucked themselves over during their pre-game session cause that shit really happens from time to time], either laying there drunkily or yacking on a free patch of grass.
Gross.
Messy, indeed.
Some people are posted, smoking blunts and offering it to people who were passing by. You and Kang both pass up on it, the idea of not knowing where it has been not sitting right with you. You both head straight to the bottles, taking shots and downing mixed drinks to chase it with so that you can catch up with majority of the crowd. Kang has his arm around your shoulder throughout the night, keeping you close to him, even when he's getting pretty drunk. You realize he's a little more handsy than usual, a little more touchy than you expected him to be. It doesn't bother you for a minute, until he really tries to hike up your skirt while you sit on his lap. You gently shoo his hand away, playing it off while he nuzzles his head against your neck.
"Let's go upstairs, babe." He says, the pet name sounding incredibly off coming from him. Maybe you were drunk, maybe you really just weren't in the mood. It just didn't sound cute, if that even makes sense?
"Okay." You respond stupidly, not wanting to cause a scene at a lacrosse party. You intertwine your fingers with his as he leads the way up the stairs, eyeing the doors as they come into view. He leans forward towards each door, making sure it's clear before opening it. You assume he finally finds one that he's satisfied with when you catch the small smirk that grows at the corner of his lips when he turns the door knob and brings you inside. He pulls you into a deep, rough kiss, one that doesn't even allow you to breathe and process what the fuck is even going on. You can't get into it for the life of you, no matter how hard you try to back away. "Wait, wait."
"What's wrong, baby? Isn't this what you wanted?" He says, kissing down your neck as he drops his jacket to the floor. He gently pushes you onto the bed, his hands traveling up your skirt as you lay there trying to push him off.
"Wait, stop." He doesn't listen. He continues until his hands are literally hooking onto your panties, his finger swiping down your clothed folds. You try fighting him off, but he's way stronger than you. He continues to be aggressive, forcefully trying to shove your panties down until you muster up all the energy you have to finally push him off of you completely. "Stop!"
"What the fuck? I thought you wanted this?"
"Who the hell said that?"
"Are you serious? The way that you're dressed and the way that you look at me. The way you approached me at your friend's party - isn't it all because of this? Because you wanted me? Why are you backing out now?"
"Jesus, get over yourself." You stand, fixing your skirt back down. He furrows his brows at you before his hand grips your arm tightly, shoving you against the wall.
"The fuck, you can't just leave without giving me anything. I brought you here to this party."
"Let me go! You're fucking sick. No one even told you I wanted this to go down. I don't know who you think you are, but you need to get yourself together and stop assuming every pussy is yours to take." He attempts to pin you, his hand holding up both of your hands against the wall while the other tries to pull up your skirt. Someone accidentally opens the door, distracting him and giving you leverage to shove him off and get the fuck away. You dart down the steps, fixing your skirt as you head outside and away from the house.
Fuck, you're far from campus. And Kass and Jimin aren't around.
God.
You groan and run your hand through your hair as you continue to walk down the hill and into the neighborhood to get as far away as possible from that house and that gross ass dude. He was literally just like the rest of the basketball team. You've heard stories and they weren't nice. Looks like he was trained well already, and that shit was sad. What a waste. A beautiful human being with such a nasty, sick mindset. You hoped other girls hadn't fallen for his shit.
Ugh, it sends shivers down your spine. Bad shivers.
"Hello? Y/N?"
"Kook, can you come pick me up please?"
"Yeah, yeah. Of course. Where are you?"
"I'll drop my location. Please hurry." You say, looking back to make sure your coast was clear. You drop the pin into your text thread with Jungkook and sit on the curb until his arrival. It's getting pretty chilly out, and the denim jacket you're wearing fails to provide you with the warmth you're looking for. Sooner or later, Jungkook is pulling up, damn near hopping out before he can shift the gear into park.
"You okay? What happened?" He says, opening the door for you before rushing over to the driver's seat.
"Nothing, can we just go back to your place?" He nods silently, and doesn't press any further after hearing your tone. He watches from his peripherals how you fiddle with your fingers and constantly reach to pull your skirt down even though he doesn't think there's any other way you could pull it down even more. He watches as he parks the car on the curb in front of his apartment how you simply undo your seatbelt and hop out to walk straight into his apartment. He watches as you welcome yourself into his closet and pick out some clothes for you to change in.
You were hurt, and his blood boils thinking about who could've done this and what they could have possibly done.
I mean, no. He knows who did this, but the question was what exactly did he try?
He hears the shower turn on, then quickly get turned off after a good 5 minutes. You had stepped in for a quick body shower, using Jungkook's bodywash just to rid yourself of feeling gross. Feeling gross from being shoulder to shoulder all night long, people breathing down your neck. Kang touching you inappropriately. You slip into Jungkook's clothes, his scent wrapping around you entirely. When you head back into the room, Jungkook has his headset back on as he faces his computer, logging back onto his game of League of Legends. You silently toss your dirty clothes to the side of his room, making a mental note to grab it tomorrow morning and toss it straight into the laundry.
Straight into a fire, perhaps. But you loved those clothes so much, it was unfortunate it'd have such a horrible memory to go with it.
Jungkook slowly removes his headset again and removes himself from his game before he heads over and sits on the edge of his bed. You simply look at him, pursing your lips tightly together to prevent yourself from crying.
But he can tell.
"What happened Y/N?" The question triggers you, making you cry into your hands as he sits there, dumbfounded and worried at how he can fix this and make you feel better. "Look, you don't have to tell me all the details but please tell me how I can help. At least tell me if I need to beat Kang's ass." He says, pulling you into his arms.
"He tried to fucking take advantage of me." You mumble as you remove your face from your hands.
"He did what?" He manages to ask even though he has a hard time swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. He already assumed you had placed him in the same category as Kang even though he never intended to take advantage of you. He really took that night as something special [even drunk], and he never meant to make you feel like you were a used object. Not like Kang.
"He-he," You sniffed. "He tried to force me into having sex with him. He took me upstairs at that lacrosse guy's party or whoever the hell it even was, and he started to aggressively kiss me. And then he tried to force my panties down and touch me there, and—"
"Okay, please don't go on or else I'll literally go over there and tear his ass apart right now. I promise you." He says sternly, his jaw clenching tightly. "God, fuck. I'm so sorry Y/N. I can't apologize on his behalf but fuck, you didn't deserve that." He uses his sweater to wipe your tears.
"I don't even know why I'm crying, this shit isn't even worth it." You groaned. "It's just overwhelming to process, I guess."
"That's okay." He says, letting out a sigh as he brushes his hand through your hair and continues to wipe the stragglers falling from your eyes. "Anything I can get you right now?"
"No, I'm probably just gonna go to bed." He nods. "Thank you for picking me up."
"Of course. You know I'll always be there." He says. You slip yourself into his sheets, watching as he makes his way back to his desk. But fuck, the only thing you needed right now was him. You didn't want this distance anymore, and you just wanted to be comforted in true Jungkook fashion.
"Wait."
"Hm?" He hums as he has a hand placed on the  head of his chair while he turns to you.
"Can you just lay with me?"
"Yeah." He says, shutting off his computer before making his way over to you in the dark. You feel him slip in next to you, his arm snaking around your shoulders so he can pull you close and onto his chest. "Better?"
"Yeah." You say, shutting your eyes as you listen to his heart beat.
"Y/N."
"Yeah?"
"I never meant to take advantage of you, or make you feel like I used you that one night." Silence. "It was dumb of me, but I just— I had trouble coming to terms with my feelings. I was scared that you wouldn't feel the same way, but I thought fuck it, at least you would know, right?"
"What are you talking about, Kook?" You ask, close to a whisper.
"I'm saying that I really fucking like you, Y/N. No, that's not right." He curses himself. "I-I uh, I'm in love with you. And I don't know if I messed this up already with the way I acted, god I hope not, but you at least deserve to know that I truly do value you and that you mean alot to me. That night, even though we were pretty plastered, it meant a lot to me. It was more than just sex and I'm sure you felt that too." He waits for your response as his fingers rake through your hair. "Please say something, anything."
"I feel the same way, Jungkook. You're an idiot for running off, but I couldn't even stay mad at you. You just know how to hit my soft spots and I can never say no to it. Can never turn my back on it." He presses a kiss against the top of your head.
"Fuck, I'm really glad to hear that cause I don't know what I would have done besides cry if you rejected me." You playfully hit his chest.
"You're annoying." You jokingly say as you chuckle.
"I'm sorry. I really am. I never wanted to hurt you."
"It's okay." You look up to press your lips against his before laying back down.
"And Kang better be fucking glad you're pressed against my body right now because I'm still looking to beat his ass."
"He's not even worth it." Is the last thing you say before you find yourself drifting into a deep sleep, in the comfort of Jungkook's arms.
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"You two feeling okay? Nervous?" You and Jungkook shake your heads. "Good, you guys got this. You've been looking amazing during practice, the audience will love you two, no doubt. Just remember to show emotions through expressions and hit every beat sharply." Hoseok nods in unison with the both of you.
"Got it, thanks Hobi." You smile at him toothlessly. You and Jungkook patiently waited for your turn backstage, the talent show already off to a wild and fun start. So many students came by to showcase their talents - from beatboxing, open mic, freestyling [like Yoongi did], dancing, singing, you name it. It was always a fun time at the talent show, and it was always nice to see people getting love for the shit they loved to do.
"You're up next." Hoseok says. "I'll be in the front row. Kick ass and have fun!" He says as he rushes off towards the opposite end to head back out to his seat in the theater.
"Ready?" Jungkook holds out his hand for you to take.
"I think so." You playfully respond as the backstage crew is rushing out the previous talent and rushing you two in to take your places on stage. The lights pick up as soon as the music starts, Kang's big ass head already in full view for you. He's definitely not smiling, no, he has a look of pure disgust because he simply couldn't get what he wanted from you.
And boy, who's fault was that? Not yours, no sir. It was his fault for thinking he had it like that.
But anyways, you're feeling the music, you're feeling the piece because you're dancing with your bestfriend and there wasn't this grey area anymore. It was easier to get into the motions, to get into the feeling, especially when things felt right between the two of you.
And God, what else is more attractive than Jeon Jungkook hitting his 8 counts so smoothly, with just enough umph to make it pop but make it pop cleanly.
Yo, please. I beg. Send some help. You could literally melt on stage.
The moments where Jungkook has to be close to you, where he has to touch you - you let him, and you touch him with meaning. You don't stray away this time because you have no reason to. The crowd is cheering, lots of 'ou's' and 'aw's' erupting from various places in the theater.
"Pretty lady." Jungkook whispers in your ear as the move requires his hands to be placed on your hips for a quick moment. You hear him slightly singing along to the song as he parts from you, causing you to blush.
Sooner or later, the couple piece is over and the song is transitioning to Jimin's piece, you and Jungkook rushing off the stage so the next group can take their positions. Jimin wanted to test his limits, creating a piece a little different than his usual taste - Chris Brown's Came to Do begins blaring through the theater speakers. You immediately jump into Jungkook's arms once you both reach backstage, the both of you immensely happy and pumped that you got through the piece without messing up one step or beat. It went so smoothly that Hoseok was standing in the front row, clapping and cheering in typical Hoseok fashion. You intertwine your fingers with his, slipping through the side door to catch Jimin's piece on stage. You and Jungkook are cheering them on, always impressed by the shit your friends can come up with. You both loved dancing, but you couldn't even imagine coming up with your own pieces to teach people.
That night after the show, everyone heads to a nearby restaurant for dinner with everyone. You all take up almost an entire section of the restaurant, splitting two long tables to accommodate the entire group with doubled the waitresses to take your orders. You settle for water, splitting an abnormally huge and filled deep dish pizza with Jimin, Kass and Jungkook. It was a good day, a good night, everyone at the table happily eating and chatting it up over dinner. You turn down any drinks because to be honest, drinks lowkey make you queasy just from the thought of how much you drank at Jungkook's apartment, plus the added bonus of that party Kang took you to. Jungkook declines as well, knowing he has to drive you back safely.
Jimin and Kass head back to the apartment because Yoongi says he's gonna hang out with Joon And Hoseok for a bit, and they warn you and Jungkook that things may get loud so the both of you decide to really stick to the plan of bringing you back to the dorm. Jungkook does his usual routine of dropping you off first before finding parking around campus. You hop in the shower and come out in Jungkook's oversized crewneck that he left in your closet, forgoing the shorts because you certainly thing that at this point, he'd love to see you in his sweater and panties.
And he does. He smiles as he pulls you close, his hands traveling up your sweater, only to find out that you literally don't have shit on besides some cute little boyshorts. He feels himself hardening in his pants quick because he's incredibly attracted to you and everything about you, always has been, always will be.
"You did amazing tonight." He says, gently kissing your forehead.
"You did too, partner." He gives you a slightly shocked look.
"Is that all I am to you? Your dance partner?"
"Yeah, why? Were you expecting more?" You joke as you smile up at him.
"Yeah, I was."
"Oh?" He gently swoops you up into his arms, your legs wrapped tightly around his torso as he sits you on the bed, his hands resting on your thighs while you continued to hold him around the neck. "Care to tell me what you were expecting?"
"Well, you know, my best friend—" He presses a kiss against your lips, thumbs gently rubbing circles against your hips. "My girlfriend."
"Hm, say that again?" Your fingers are gently playing with the ends of his hair, your lips barely grazing his.
"My girlfriend." He says closed to a whisper, kissing you softly. The kiss deepens quick, Jungkook's tongue lining your bottom lip as his way of asking for permission to take it further. You gladly take it and let him in, your tongues instantly fighting for dominance. Your fingers travel up his hair, tugging ever so slightly just to let him know you want more. That you need more.
And he gets that.
His fingers hook onto the band of your boyshorts, tugging them down and letting them fall down your legs and onto the floor. He breaks the kiss momentarily, his brown, puppy dog eyes looking straight into yours.
"Hey." He says, brushing the hair out of your face.
"Hm?"
"I know I said the last time was special, and it was. It is." He corrects himself. "But, I wanna do right by you this time around. So, is it okay if I keep going? Are you comfortable?" He asks properly, since the two of you are both sober and perfectly coherent, aware of your surroundings and the fact that you'll be seeing each other fully naked in a few minutes.
"Yes." You respond. "Yes, I want you to keep going. I want you. This." He simply nods, bringing his lips back onto yours. His hands climb up your sweater and gently gives your breasts a good squeeze, earning a small moan from the both of you. His other hand begins to travel down to your pussy, two long fingers slowly probing your entrance and causing your breathing to hitch.
"You okay?" He asks lowly. You nod, biting onto your bottom lip as you tilt your head back and rest on your hands, no longer able to keep up with the kiss due to all the pleasure starting to pile up deep in your core. Jungkook starts of slow, his head now buried into the crook of your neck as he works his digits upward, tickling at the right spot.
"Ohhhh, Kook." You mewl as his tongue swipes across the surface of your neck, biting gently beneath your jaw. He begins to pick up the pace, the sounds of him finger fucking you filling up the room entirely.
"Fuck, you're so wet baby." He groans into your neck.
"I'm gonna cum." You whine, teeth almost piercing through your bottom lip in between your whimpers.
"Need to taste you." He removes his fingers and sinks down in between your thighs, gripping onto them and pulling you just a teensy bit more off the edge of the bed so he can get a good angle. The sight of his eyes looking up at you in between your legs is to die for, and the sight alone is enough to make you cum. But, you hold on, you ride out for a little longer - feeling Jungkook's tongue swipe in and out of your folds before he's sucking endlessly on your clit.
"Ahhh, fuck, wait, Jungkook!" He slightly smiles while eating you out, signaling that he's not stopping even if you beg him to. "Hnnng—shit!" You moan loudly as you feel yourself toppling over the edge, your body shaking in Jungkook's grip. You twitch every time he continues to suck gently on your sensitive nub, letting you ride out the rest of your high. He comes back up to your lips, the taste of your own cum lingering on it as you kiss him deeply.
"You taste so good." He says, back to twirling your nipples in between his fingers.
"Wanna feel you." You fiddle with his jeans, undoing his belt and sliding the rest down as much as you could. Jungkook gets out of his shirt and tosses it aside before helping get the sweater above your head. His eyes glow at the sight of your bare body in front of him, wanting to do nothing but please you and please you well.
"God, you're so perfect." He places kisses down your collarbone, to the surface of your breasts before quickly swirling his tongue around your perked buds. You moan as you tug down onto his boxer briefs, immediately stroking his hardened member while he tended to you. Jungkook was a fucking beauty himself - his soft hair, his perfectly toned body, his long 'thick in all the right places' dick.
"Please." You plead. "I want you inside of me." You whimper, causing Jungkook's breathing to hitch when you slightly tighten your grip at the base of his shaft. He gently pushes your hand aside to take over, lining himself up at your entrance. He inserts the tip, watching your eyes roll to the back of the head as he slowly sinks into you.
"Mmmmmgod." He moans. "So tight for me, baby. So fucking wet and tight." He repeats, close to a growl. Your moaning begins to pick up, matching the pace of his thrusting. You're still on the edge of the bed, Jungkook keeping you steady by gripping your thighs tightly. He marvels at the sight of your titties bouncing up and down with every thrust, hissing and shutting his eyes momentarily to keep himself grounded and to prevent himself from coming too quickly. Cause god, he can literally blow any second now.
"Jungggggkooook, yessssss!" You moan loudly, whining even at this point with how good he feels fucking into you at such a fast pace. You're feeling slightly sore already from him hammering into you, but nonetheless, it builds more pleasure for you and you want nothing but to reach your high again. "I-I'm coming!" Jungkook moans in unison with you when he feels your walls pulsating against his cock.
"Such a good girl for me." He says, slowing his pace. The creamy sounds of Jungkook's cock slipping inside and out is music to the both of your ears. He finally gains the courage to remove himself, sitting next to your spot on the edge of the bed and pulling you onto his lap. You swing a leg over, your hands resting on the nape of his neck while you sink yourself lower onto his length. Your mouth opens to let out a moan, but the best you can do is let out a hiss. It feels too fucking good that you can't even process it thoroughly. Jungkook pushes your lips down onto his by grabbing your neck, his other hand guiding the movement of your hips as you roll into him.
"Mmmggg—Jungkook." You whimper in between kisses. "You feel so fucking good, god. You're gonna make me cum again."
"Yeah, cum for me. Cum all over me. It's yours." He grunts, his hands guiding you to work him faster. Your movements are getting sloppier, and you feel your wetness starting to coat his pelvis. He doesn't give a fuck though, and neither do you. This shit feels too good for you to worry about the mess you're making on him.
"Cum with me please." He moans at the sound of you whispering into his ear.
"Faster, baby." He says, almost making you cry at how awfully close you are to unraveling. You tug onto his hair, your head buried deep into his neck as you try and suck onto the surface, trying to find an outlet, some kind of release, until you let go. You suck harshly as you coat his cock with your cum, leaving a purple mark right at the base of his neck. You continue to ride out your high, rolling your hips sloppily as Jungkook finally lets himself go, his moan bouncing off of your walls as his seed fills you up warmly.
You stay in your position, slowly raising your head to cup his cheeks and kiss him deeply once more.
"Fuck, I love you." He says slightly pulling away.
"I love you too." You giggle.
"Didn't actually need any drinks to do this now, did we?" Jungkook jokes, softly pinching your hip.
"Shut up."
"Damn, you both couldn't even at least try to be quiet?!" Jimin yells from outside the door.
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divine-mistake · 3 years
Text
virtue and vice
Summary: What they don’t tell you in bootcamp is that trying to fall asleep next to your co-worker, the one that you’re insanely attracted to and might have the tiniest crush on, who also hates your guts and kind of would rather turn himself over to HYDRA than hold a real conversation with you, while sharing the same bed, is impossible. There is no way in hell you’re going to be able to fall asleep next to Bucky.
Characters: Bucky Barnes/Plus-size (f)Reader
Warnings: 18+ smut (vaginal fingering, rough sex, dirty talk, bit of a Dom Bucky Barnes), language, insecurity (weight issues, a little perceived fatphobia which is wiped out really soon after)
Word Count: 6120
A/N: This is a tumblr request for @buckybarnes101 who requested a Bucky/Plus-sized reader enemies to lovers who have to share one bed with smut. I loved this request and really hot to make something hot and rough and fast! Thank you so much for the request - enjoy!!
main masterlist | AO3
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It finally happened, the one thing you prayed would never ever happen, the thing you’ve been dreading since you started joining James Buchanan Barnes on his stealth missions, the event that will inevitably spark your downward spiral into doom, destroying the crumbs of the relationship you’ve managed to build with him.
“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” he says, barreling through the motel room like a ping pong ball with a little too much pent up energy.
You shrug your bag off your tired shoulder, letting it fall to the ground, not caring about how dirty the carpeting must be.
“At least it’s a queen,” you say, toeing off your boots. “I’ve had worse with Steve.”
Bucky turns to glare at you over his shoulder. “You’ve shared a bed with Steve?” he says, accusation rising in his tone. You stare at him like he’s crazy.
“I’m sorry—are you saying you haven’t? ‘Cause I call bullshit on that.”
He doesn’t answer, choosing to sift through his duffel bag instead. You shrug despite the fact that he can’t see you.
“I mean, it’s pretty routine, isn’t it? I’ve shared with Natasha, too. Sometimes you just have to make do.”
“Yeah but it’s Natasha,” he says like it matters. “I can’t believe you’ve slept with Steve.”
“God, Bucky, it’s only weird if you make it weird, and you’re making it weird.”
He straightens now, body stiff, one of his hidden holsters hanging from his vibranium hand. He doesn’t look at you and you’re too tired to start a fight—much less finish it—so you hope he just goes ahead and fucks off to the shower which you know he’s getting ready to do. He’s always been selfish like that. But it’s also not so selfish, you think, for someone like Bucky to want to wash the missions away as soon as possible.
But the bastard could ask sometimes, couldn’t he?
“I’m going first,” he says, just like always, and you bite your tongue.
“‘Kay.”
You turn and sigh, focusing your glare on the one bed filling the motel room. If there was one thing you always hoped for after a mission, it was not to end up in the same bed as James Barnes. The two of you notoriously don’t get along, for whatever reason that may be (although you’re pretty sure it has to do with the fact that he thinks you’re a useless addition to the team), but there is literally no denying the attraction you felt for him.
The man is hot, and he’s had a couple, or maybe most, of the screws in his head knocked loose.
You have it bad for him.
Oh, but James Barnes is not fond of you. Not that he would ever admit it, but the dude has some serious fatphobia going on. You’re ninety-nine-percent sure of that.
Alone in the bedroom, you start to strip out of your tac-suit, letting your gun belt and the rest of your holsters fall in a ring around your feet. As soon as the heaviness is off you, relieving some of the ache in your body, you think about just falling straight into the bed blood and dirt and grime and all. But you’re also sure Bucky would lose his mind if you did that.
Instead, you look to the floor length mirror just in front of the motel door, frowning.
Your skin-tight suit doesn’t do much to hide all the lumps and bumps and dips and hips all squished into it, and when you’re covered in tiny cuts and burns on every visible patch of skin, you can’t help but think about how Bucky sees you.
The useless fat Avenger! How fun.
You turn to the side a little, glancing at the fullness of your ass. Nice. A redeeming quality of the extra weight you carry atop the strong muscle you’ve built in your short time as part of the Superhero Menagerie. Not having a gimmick of any kind really forced you into working for the position—and now you’re not just the useless fat chick, you’re the super hacking, super gun toting, mega-badass fat Avenger instead.
The shower squeaks and the water stops, signaling the end of Bucky’s shower.
You look up to the ceiling, praying to some god to hear you that everything will work out just fine.
And then Bucky exits the bathroom, steam flooding from the room, wrapped only in a thinning motel towel secured by his metal hand at his waist. It isn’t the first time you’ve seen his chiseled figure, but there’s something that jumps up your throat at the thought that you have to shower in that same shower and then sleep in the same bed as the bed that body is sleeping in.
Oh, fuck.
“All yours,” he murmurs, not even looking at you.
“Great.” You grab your change of clothes and head for the bathroom, trying to think about anything except him.
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When you smell less like blood and asbestos and more like strawberries and peaches, hair damp and a clean t-shirt and sleep shorts sticking to your heat-splotched body, you enter the bedroom once again. Bucky is sitting against the headboard, going through his phone now that you’re both safe and secure in France, dressed only in a pair of sweatpants.
Okay, act cool. Just get into bed and pretend like it’s not weird.
You pad over to the bed, grimacing at the feel of the gross carpet beneath your clean feet, hopping beneath the sheets as quick as possible. If Bucky looks at you, then you don’t see it, because you are focused solely on not looking at him. Petty? Perhaps. Keeping your sanity intact? Absolutely.
“You tired?” he asks and you snort.
“Extremely. You don’t have to turn off the light if you aren’t ready to sleep, though.” You situate yourself as far on the edge of the bed as possible—something you’ve never done with any of the other people you’ve been forced to share a bed with. You and Natasha aren’t new to sleeping together, especially after some of the nights out you’ve shared, but you and Steve definitely cuddled, though you wouldn’t admit it to anyone. Steve’s just kinda lonely, you think. And to be honest, you’re a little touch-starved yourself.
But you know you take up a lot of space and you’re sure Bucky hates that, so you bury yourself under the motel sheets and snuggle up to your pillow, trying to make yourself as small as humanly possible.
After a moment, Bucky asks, “Are you comfortable like that?”
You crack an eye open and twist to look at him. “What?”
He shrugs. “Didn’t you tell me not to make it weird? You’re making it weird now.”
“You already made it weird.”
“I’m trying not to make it weird anymore.”
“A little late for that—”
“God, just, c’mere.”
Bucky grabs you around your waist, your shirt riding up, and pulls you closer. You shriek in surprise, eyes wide, as he manhandles you until you’re away from the edge and your back is pressed against his bare chest.
“There—that’s better,” he says, nearly whispering in your ear he’s so close to you now. He unwinds his arm from your middle and reaches up to hit the light, the room going completely dark save for the little sliver of artificially light pouring in from underneath the shitty curtains.
You don’t even know what to say. Bucky’s rendered you completely speechless.
First of all, the man has never touched you for no reason like that before. Second of all, how the hell did he just move you like you weighed the same as the pillow beneath his head? Third of all, he hates you, so why is he so bothered about you and your comfort? Fourth, he just moved you around like you weighed literally nothing.
And boy, did it send a flood of pleasure straight to your core, almost as if your body just gave the green light to your libido. The perfect time too, y’know, when you’re sharing a bed with your co-worker who hates your guts.
Play it cool. Just play it fucking cool.
“Uh, are you okay?” you ask him in return, and Bucky shifts so his back is pressed up to yours.
“Yeah,” he says. “Go to sleep.”
“‘Kay. Good night.”
“Night.”
What they don’t tell you in bootcamp is that trying to fall asleep next to your co-worker, the one that you’re insanely attracted to and might have the tiniest crush on, who also hates your guts and kind of would rather turn himself over to HYDRA than hold a real conversation with you, while sharing the same bed, is impossible. There is no way in hell you’re going to be able to fall asleep next to Bucky.
Your brain turns and turns and turns, body straining to stay as still as possible to not upset the super soldier sleeping right beside you. What does he have against you? Why does he hate you so much? You really thought once you started going on more missions—proving you were worthy to be a part of the team—that he’d start coming around and seeing your value. But you feel like all it’s served is to make him hate you more, especially now that you tag along on his stealth operations as his techie.
Maybe he knows you’re into him, and maybe that’s why he never wants to be around you. But, god, it’s not like you think you have a chance with him in any capacity, and you’d pass up tens of thousands of chances to be with him if he’d just be your friend!
Because Bucky deserves another friend, doesn’t he?
As if he can read your mind—or maybe it’s just god playing tricks on you—Bucky shifts around in the bed again, turning toward you. You don’t know if he’s sleeping yet or not, but you curl in on yourself a little to give him more space to stretch out.
Bucky’s vibranium arm slides over your waist, cool metal grazing by the sliver of skin peeking out from underneath your shirt, and when you flinch from it, he pulls you flush against him. Behind you, the bare skin of his chest is warm, almost too hot. Super soldiers run warmer than normal humans, and you think he’d be nice to have in bed more often.
In your ear, Bucky groans in his sleep and it makes you shiver despite the heat radiating through your back. He must be like Steve, wanting to cuddle in his sleep. No one ever wants to admit it out loud, but you’re the best thing to cuddle in the Tower. Being squishy and soft atop hard, strong muscle means you’re more comfortable than all the rigid bodies of the Avengers. Maybe Bucky needs this.
But you wish you could fall asleep so you’ll stop thinking about how much you’ve wanted this since the day you saw him, the new Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes, hair tied up in a messy bun and stubble thick and dark, vibranium arm hidden within the sleeve of his leather jacket.
Suddenly, everything is too hot. The room, the motel sheets, the pillow beneath your head. Bucky Barnes behind you, arm slung over your body, holding you to him. He’s sleeping, you know, the quiet rumble of his breathing a song in your ear, chest rising and falling against your back. You shift a little, trying to get more comfortable as the warmth starts to become unbearable. When that doesn’t help, you shift again, trying to pull your back away from Bucky, but it sends your bottom half straight into his.
A growl brushes by your ear all breathy and low and Bucky’s arm tightens around you, bringing you back to him.
Damn, who knew Bucky was such a cuddler when he’s sleeping?
You wait a few minutes, keeping still, until you’re sure he’s slipped back into unconsciousness. His nose is nearly pressed into your hair, his breaths upsetting the small wisps of hairs that curl at your ear. Sweat is starting to collect underneath your shirt where your bodies are connected and you know you’ll never be able to fall asleep like this.
Again, you shift toward the edge of the bed, trying to pull yourself out of Bucky’s grasp, but he drags you back into his embrace. The swell of your ass meets his thigh and in a panic, you move around to try and put space between the two of you again, but Bucky lets out a strangled-sounding groan, hissing through his teeth.
“You gotta stop moving, doll, or you’re not gonna like what happens next.”
He is not asleep.
“Bucky?” you squeak, eyes wide, frozen in place.
“Hm?” His metal hand sneaks underneath the hem of your shirt, fingers finding your soft skin and thumb starting to rub little circles just above your hip, a point of pleasure on your body. No one ever touches you here, and it takes everything you have not to press back into him, asking for more. Your breathing is heavier now as you try to control yourself.
“You aren’t—Why aren’t you sleeping?” you ask, sounding winded from the simplest act of him touching you.
“Hard to sleep when you’re next to me,” he murmurs in your ear, nose brushing up against the patch of skin behind it. Your eyes flutter closed. Every small touch feels like heaven. You never allow others to touch you more than necessary, but now Bucky is handling you so gently.
“I can’t sleep either,” you whisper. “Do you want me to go? I can take a walk.”
He makes a noise of disapproval. “Just stay still,” he says, almost begging. “Go to sleep.”
“It’s hot,” you whine. “You’re too hot.”
You can feel him smirk into the back of your neck. “You don’t gotta tell me, doll.”
“Shut up,” you say with a huff of frustration, wiggling in the bed to get your point across. Immediately, Bucky’s vibranium hand falls to your hip, fingers digging into your flesh hard enough for the flash of pain to turn to pleasure, holding you still.
“I said stop moving,” he says, and it's so close to a command that your teeth tear into your bottom lip as his voice sends shocks through your core. Now, hyperaware of how close your bodies are underneath the sheets, you realize your ass is pressed against his pelvis, not his thigh, and you’ve definitely been—
Bucky grinds into you, seething, breath ghosting over your ear, his cock hard and heavy in his sweatpants.
Wetness pools between your thighs, dampening the thin cotton panties you wear beneath your sleep shorts.
“Bucky,” you breathe his name. “What are you doing?”
“So tired of you teasin’ me,” he grits through clenched teeth. “I’ve put up with it for so long—too long—and I just knew you were gonna do it tonight, too. Only one fucking bed. You’re gonna kill me, baby.”
Your voice sounds so small when you whisper, “What are you talking about?”
Then Bucky lays a kiss to the back of your neck, trailing upward until he reaches the lobe of your ear, and pulls it into his mouth and between his teeth. You shiver, violently, unable to stop the reaction. It must please him because he yanks your hips back into him again, forcing you to grind on his bulge.
Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, muffling whatever sounds threaten to fall from your lips.
“Doll, you’ve been teasin’ me from the beginning. From the moment I saw you in your gear on the Berlin mission, all your curves on display in that tight little cat-suit you’re always wearing, armed to the teeth, handling all those guns looking so fuckin’ gorgeous.”
You swallow hard. The Berlin mission, your first stealth mission with Bucky, had gone sour and the two of you found yourselves in a gun fight that was never meant to happen. You’re pretty sure you walked back onto the quinjet covered in blood, bruised, and a gash in your thigh that made you wobble when you stood up, and Bucky didn’t even look at you as per usual. Bucky never looks at you on missions unless he absolutely has to.
Wait.
“Is that why you never look at me?” you ask him, and you wish you could see his face right now, but all you can feel is his lips as they pepper kisses along the column of your throat, coaxing shudders and little squeaks out of you.
“You expect me to look at you without wanting to jump your bones, doll?” His nose caresses the spot at the top of your spine, his fingers melting at your hip and soothing the bruises you’re sure he’s already left. “That’s just askin’ too much, baby. How am I supposed to look at you and stop myself from kissin’ you silly?”
Pleasure flutters through your stomach, surging through the apex of your thighs.
“Then do it,” you tell him. Bucky goes still, unmoving, and you wonder if you’ve pushed too hard.
But then his voice is low, dark, in your ear. “You don’t know what you’re saying, doll.”
The honey dripping from your center, pooling in your underwear, says very differently. Instead of answering, you press your ass back into him, gyrating your hips straight upon his pelvis, rubbing against his clothed cock. Bucky chokes.
And then he’s up and above you, rolling your body beneath him, caging you between his arms. You nearly gasp when you look up at him, his blue eyes intense in a way you’ve never seen them before, his lips pink and swollen from biting—you’re sure yours look the same and he hasn’t even kissed you yet.
Bucky leans closer, his mouth only inches from yours, his breath mingling with yours. Your eyes threaten to flutter shut in anticipation but you force yourself to look at him, to take all of him in.
“If you want this, I won’t be able to hold myself back, doll. Wanted you too long. Need you.”
Then, he pulls back, eyes searching yours.
“But if you don’t,” he swallows, “then we’ll forget this ever happened, and everything will go back to normal.”
Fuck that.
“Kiss me, sergeant,” you command, hand shooting up to tangle in his thick hair.
Bucky curses and then he’s on you before you have a chance to reach up and meet him halfway. His lips are rough, chapped, but plush and perfect against yours. He wastes no time, tongue licking into your mouth and meeting yours, tasting you for the first time. You respond eagerly, hand fisting in his hair, pulling him into you until you can’t tell where his body ends and yours begins.
When he’s satisfied with how kiss-drunk you look, lips swollen and eyes hazy, he moves to the juncture of your neck and shoulder and sinks his teeth into your skin, causing you to cry out. The pain and the pleasure mingle, like lovers, like you and Bucky, as his fingers take hold of your shirt and in one tug, the fabric pulls apart at the seams.
You don’t care—you can buy a new shirt. You need him to touch you.
Until you realize you aren’t wearing a bra and that your top half is completely bare to Bucky, the man who, before a minute ago, you thought hated you because you were fat. Because it was the only explanation you had. Because you’re insecure.
Your hands fall upon his chest, bracing against him, stopping him in his tracks. He pulls away from your neck to look at you, brows drawn together in confusion, and all you can do is try and cover yourself with your arms before he gets a peek. It’s dark, but super soldiers can see in the dark. A blessing and a curse.
“I don’t want you to look at me,” you whisper so quietly you realize no normal person would have been able to hear it. “I’m—I shouldn’t have let you—I’m so fat, Bucky.” 
Bucky’s eyes widen.
“Baby, baby,” he soothes you, his flesh hand coming up to cradle your cheek, fingers brushing delicately over your skin. “You don’t believe me when I say I want to see you? Doll, your body drives me insane, and god, every time you get an attitude with me and you put your hands on your hips and you look at me all mad…”
Bucky groans and he rocks his pelvis into yours, hard cock hitting your center and making your breath hitch.
“You’re beautiful, baby. Gorgeous. Do you know how hard it is for me to be around you sometimes ‘cause you’re just so pretty? More than pretty, I don’t even know the words to tell you, baby. Please, please don’t hide yourself from me, let me look at you, let me touch you, baby. S’all I want to do is look at you for the rest of my life.”
You don’t realize you’re crying until Bucky’s thumb swipes a tear away and you blink, and he’s smiling at you so warmly, really looking at you, maybe for the first time ever since you’ve known him.
“You think so?” you ask, breathless. “Even though you’re so—so good, Bucky, so beautiful and so good.”
He rests his forehead against yours, inhaling your scent, your essence, your soul. You nuzzle into his palm, kissing the center of his skin where his lifeline sits among other small scars. Then, you pull your arms away from your body, moving to wrap them around his neck, fingers digging into his scalp as you tip your chin up to slant your mouth over his. Bucky returns your enthusiasm, tongue meeting yours sweetly, and then metal fingers are trailing up your side.
Bucky pulls away, searching your eyes for consent.
“Say you’re mine,” he begs. “Say you’re mine, baby, but if you do, I won’t be gentle.”
You look up at him from underneath your lashes, already heady with the feeling of Bucky wanting you, desiring every part of you.
“I’m yours,” you whisper, and the mood in the room shifts violently.
In an instant, Bucky pulls your arms away from where they’re wound around his neck and pins them over your head, metal fingers locked around both your wrists. It makes you arch into him and then his nose is tracing your sternum, a line down your center, cutting you in half until his flesh hand attaches to your breast and his lips find your nipple.
Just like he said, he’s not gentle, and it has your eyes rolling into the back of your head, lids fluttering, as his teeth nip and tug at the delicate bud. His tongue follows the performance, sucking and soothing the pain away with sweet licks until he’s bored and moves onto the other one.
He lifts his head up to say, “Don’t move your hands,” and then his vibranium fingers find the hardened, sensitive nub and begin to twist and pull at it as his lips play with the other. The pleasure is overwhelming, the pain is a shocking reminder of who is playing your body like a symphony. You arch your breasts toward him, you roll your hips up to meet his bulge, you do anything you can to relieve the pressure that’s building in your core, screaming at you that you need his touch.
“Bucky,” you call out, moaning, struggling to keep your hands near the headboard.
“Do you need more, sweet girl?”
“Please,” you beg and press your center up to rub his cock. “It aches,” you whine.
“You gonna be a good girl for me? Let me touch you? Let me make the pain go away, baby?”
His words send new waves of pleasure through you, every part of you flushing with heat, your thighs squeezing together as if you can hide your leaking core from him.
“Yes, yes, yes, Bucky.”
He lays kisses on the underside of your breasts, just below them, like he’s following the lines of your ribs as he moves down toward your stomach—the part of you that you hate the most. You struggle underneath him.
“Not there,” you say as he places open-mouthed kisses on your soft belly. It tickles and makes you tremble and writhe.
He chuckles darkly. “I thought you said you were gonna be a good girl?” Both hands fall upon your hips, trapping you, fingers digging into your soft, pliant flesh as he nuzzles and licks and nips and kisses your stomach. You throw your head back, dizzy at the thought of what your body will look like tomorrow, purpled bruises made of passion.
“I’m a good girl,” you pant, mouth falling open as you struggle to catch your breath.
“Then let me touch you, doll. All of you—I want all of you.”
You hear the sound of fabric ripping before you feel the cool air rush over where your sleep shorts are no longer, Bucky tosses the tatters of fabric over the edge of the bed. He inhales sharply at the sight of you, hands roaming over the wide breadth of your hips as if he can’t even draw himself away, smoothing over your stretch marks with loving strokes until he finds the thick expanse of your bare thighs.
Bucky’s thumb brushes over your clothed cunt, panties drenched, and a strangled moan flies from your mouth as you press toward him, begging for more.
“This all for me?” he asks, voice gravelly. “My pretty baby is all wet like this for me? Christ, doll, you’re dripping.”
“Yes!” you shout as metal fingers hook around your underwear to rip them off, parting your lips to watch your slick seep from your aching core. “It’s all for you, Bucky, all of it.”
He groans at this. “Good girl,” he praises you. “That’s my good girl.”
And then he sinks two fingers into you, your juices soaking his hand almost immediately, and pumps into you like his life depends on it. The pleasure is too much, and when his thumb finds your clit and begins to slide over it, your knees try to close out of instinct, hips canting away from the pleasure. Bucky growls and wraps an arm around your hips, keeping you close, baring your naked body to him and him alone.
“You like that?” His voice is low, teasing, so fucking hot you can’t do anything but gasp for breath. “You’re sucking my fingers in, baby. So tight. Gotta work you open or you’re never gonna be able to take my cock, honey.”
You whimper his name, hips twitching under his grasp, crying out as every stroke of his fingers brings you closer and closer to the edge. When he adds a third, you think you might die from the mix of pleasure and pain as he stretches your walls.
“You’re such a good girl,” he coos. “You’re gonna take it all, aren’t you? Been teasin’ me too long, and now you’ve gotta take it all, baby.”
He drives his fingers inside and hits the soft, spongy spot inside of you and it breaks you apart, tears you asunder, you’re arching off the bed and Bucky holds his thumb on your clit as you undulate upon his fingers. You can feel the gush of come that trickles down his thick fingers, and then he pulls out and places them in his mouth, licking your honey from the digits as the aftershocks of your orgasm wrack through you.
And when you can finally open your eyes, vision hazy, Bucky is looking at you with a mix of adoration and lust, licking your juice from his lips, grinning.
“That’s my good girl,” he praises again and the fire of pleasure and want and need ignites.
“Need you,” you whine, “right now, please, please sergeant.”
“Fuck,” he curses. “You don’t know what you do to me when you say that, doll.”
You definitely know what you do to him, and you’re gonna keep saying it and saying it until he’s yours, forever, until the end, until he’s buried so deep inside of you that you could die happy.
Staring up at him, your face flushed, hair sticking to your sweaty forehead and spread among the motel pillows, you think you might be in love with Bucky Barnes.
“Need me to fuck you, baby? Fuck, you drive me so fuckin’ crazy. I’m crazy about you, baby. You’re so goddamn perfect, so soft, so beautiful.” Bucky’s hands touch every part of you, even the places you hate. He finds the soft rolls of fat you try to work off at the gym, finds the squishy parts of your upper arms you think look unsightly when you’re hacking into HYDRA’s systems, fingers flying over the keyboard. He passes over your stubbly legs, a little sharp from three days of not shaving while on the mission, he caresses the dimples of cellulite in the backs of your thighs you hate so much.
And then he pushes the waistband of his sweats down and kicks his pants off, his cock exposed and standing attention all red at the tip and thick and hard and hot, and his hands slide underneath your thighs and press you up until you’re angled to take him.
He hesitates though, you feel it. And god, you’d do anything for him.
“Fuck me, sergeant,” you beg so prettily, and Bucky growls.
His hips snap into yours, cock sliding through your walls, parting you for him, splaying you open, stretching you, burning you, he’s everything. Bucky gives you one second to adjust and then he’s moving within you, the pain blurring into pleasure, your head thrown back, keening, moaning, crying out, nails sinking into his shoulders.
“Yes,” he hisses, sweat dripping down his temple as he rams into you over and over and over. “Give it to me, baby. You feel so good.”
“Harder,” you manage in between your shrieks and moans and Bucky answers your call with a response. He drags you toward him until your hips are attached to his, connected, his cock reaching the deepest parts of you, the darkest parts of you, and you sob as the new angle makes you feel every single drag of his length. The head of his cock pierces you, smashing against the spot that makes you keen, and the pressure is building up within you again.
Bucky’s fingers find purchase in the plush flesh that sits on your hips, dragging down until he’s digging into your thick thighs, the sharp pain a beacon cutting through the haze of pleasure you’re locked in as he fucks you. It’s building, building, building, pressure, building.
“Come for me,” he snarls, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, like he can feel how close you are. And for the second time, your body is shattered and your orgasm breaks like a wave crashing against the shore, swallowing you whole until you’re lost in everything that is Bucky.
You scream his name, legs tightening around him like you’re trying to hold onto something, anything, and his words are lost on you.
“That’s it, good girl, that’s my good girl, coming so sweet around my cock, god you feel so good baby, so tight, such a good little girl.”
Bucky pulls out of you and you whine as your slick slips out of you, his cock coated in your essence, smearing it against your inner thighs. But it doesn’t last that long. With an immediacy that turns you on—he wants you, he wants you so bad—Bucky grabs you and flips you over, putting you on your hands and knees. His palm forces your head down, back bowing until you’re arched with your ass upturned, face smashed into the pillows.
“God,” he groans, “this fuckin’ ass of yours, baby. It gets me in so much trouble, d’ya know that? You don’t even know how many times I’ve caught myself watching the way your ass swings when you walk, like y’gotta purpose, like you don’t even know how fuckin’ sexy you are.”
Bucky’s hands round over your ass, caressing them gently, then grabbing fistfuls of your flesh until you’re crying out once again. It makes you lean back into him, trying to seek out the pleasure of him, wiggling as if you can entice him to stuff you with his cock again.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he breathes, and then he gives your right cheek a slap that makes you shriek, laying a kiss on it just after to soothe the pain.
“Please sergeant,” you gasp. “Please, please, I need you to fuck me again.”
“You want me to fuck you again?” he asks, smug. “I just fucked you ‘till you came around me, baby. You need me to do it again?”
It’s humiliating, but your words are jumbled as you cry and beg and cry and beg for him to take you again. You need him. You need him to fuck you. You need Bucky Barnes to do anything and everything to you.
He leans over you, breath hot on the back of your neck. “I’m gonna fuck you now, baby, again and again and again.”
And then he slams back into you, the angle so much deeper this time, cock hitting the back of your cunt like he was made for you—like you were made for him.
You can’t speak, can’t think, can’t do anything but drool into the pillow as he takes you from behind like a wild animal. The sounds that pour from your open lips are heady and strung together, making no sense, but Bucky knows what you need. He fucks you raw, fucks you hard, fucks you until you know you’ll be covered in bruises in the morning. His metal arm is wrapped around your waist, holding you to him because you don’t have the strength to hold yourself up.
When his thrusts become sloppy, Bucky takes his vibranium hand and searches for your clit, making you cry out. It’s too much—the overstimulation. You’re too sensitive, too exhausted, too fucked out to take the pleasure anymore. But you clench around him, the sloppy sounds of your wet heat taking Bucky as he pounds into you making you flush, and the coil in your stomach is tightening.
“Give it to me,” Bucky commands, ramming into you impossibly harder, fingers sliding over your slick clit. “Give it to me, baby.”
You whine his name and Bucky’s free hand smacks your ass again, the sound of flesh on flesh mingling with the sound of him fucking you.
“You said you’d be good,” he grits through his teeth. “Are you a good girl?”
“Yes,” you pant.
“You’re a good girl?”
“Yes.”
“You’re my good girl?”
“Yes, sergeant, yes!”
“Then give it to me. Come, baby, come for me, one more time.”
And like that, you come apart, knees collapsing beneath you. Bucky catches you in his arms, thrusting once, twice more, and then buries himself so far inside of you that you barely feel his hot seed spurt inside of you, coating your insides.
You fall to the bed and Bucky follows, pulling out of you and wrapping his arms around you, pressing your back to his chest in the very position that started this all. He peppers kisses over the expanse of your shoulders, behind your ear, and then turns you until he can connect his lips to yours. Bucky kisses you like he means it, like he wants it to last forever.
“I’ll be right back,” he whispers against your mouth, then he’s off the bed and headed for the bathroom. You lay there in bliss, staring up at the ceiling with lidded eyes, unable to think of anything but the pleasure and exhaustion that make up your body right now. When Bucky returns, he has a ratty washcloth in hand and he uses it to clean between your legs. It’s warm and he’s gentle, leaving you shivering when he’s finished.
When he climbs back in bed, he tucks a piece of your matted hair behind your ear, smiling at you.
“Such a good girl,” he says, one last time, and it makes you smile. “My good girl,” he murmurs as he kisses you again.
“Yours?” You look up at him, blinking innocently.
“Mine.” Bucky lays your head upon his bare chest. “All mine.”
You fall asleep before him to the sound of his breathing, sharing the same bed with your co-worker Bucky Barnes, who you really think you might be in love with, especially as he strokes your hair so softly until your eyes fall, heavy.
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midgardianweasley · 3 years
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Movie Night
Movie night
Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Summary: It’s friday night, or more commonly known as movie night for the Avengers. A horror movie was put on and Y/N isn’t feeling so brave, luckily she’s got a Romanoff nearby.
Warnings: coulrophobia (fear of clowns), mentions of the IT movie and pennywise.
Word Count: 2.5k
Идиоты. - ‘Idiots.’
Requests are open!
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“I vote action movie”
“We watched an Action movie last week, Sam.” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, briefly looking up and meeting my eyes, earning a small smile in return, attempting to provide some sanity for the man.
“Plus, do you not think we’ve had enough action for one week?” Bucky grumbled, this week having taken a toll on everyone. We were all exhausted from our missions, some more than others, the soldier being one of them.
“Okay okay, no action, damn” Sam put his hands up in defeat, accepting that he wasn’t going to win this one. A few more options had been suggested, Bruce suggested rom-com, Thor suggested comedy, Vision proposed a documentary, all of which were shut down with groans and sounds of protest.
I turned to my assassin girlfriend who had been sitting beside me watching the scene unfold with an amused smirk on her face, her green eyes darting around the room whenever someone else spoke and taking sips of the drink she had in her hand. I nudged her slightly to get her attention
“Hey.”
“Hi”
“If it was up to you, what would you choose for movie night?” I asked. She morphed her face into a thoughtful one, still with a slight smile on her face, taking time to make her decision.
“If it was completely up to me? I would-”
“Aha!” Tony interrupted with a loud snap of his fingers. “I know, we haven’t watched a horror movie in a while, and the new IT movie just came out, we can watch that” He smirked, proud of his contribution to the discussion at hand. I looked around the room, praying that they would pick anything else, literally anything, even Vision’s documentary.
Unfortunately, everyone seemed to be really into it as they all shared nod’s and “yeah” “sounds good” before splitting up to go and get their snacks and blankets to bring back to the large sofa.
Although I wouldn't admit it to the rest of the group, I was absolutely terrified of clowns and have been since I was a child. If there was a clown at a birthday party or an event, I’d pretend I was sick so that my mum wouldn’t make me go. She soon noticed a pattern in my behaviour, putting the pieces together and realising that I hadn't come down with the flu three times that month, I was avoiding the ‘entertainment’ of the parties.
She tried explaining that it was just a guy in makeup and a funny suit, showing off fun tricks and jokes. However, 9 year old me still refused to attend, faking a sneeze and hiding under the blanket.
“Woah, Y/L/N, you good over there?” Tony furrowed his brows, concern written all over his face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I wish it was a ghost.
I regained my composure, nodding and sending a firm smile his way, hoping that would be enough to prevent any further questioning. With a shrug, he made his way out of the room and caught up with Thor to explain what ‘IT’ was.
“You don’t look so good, sure you’re okay?” Nat placed her hand on my back, rubbing small, reassuring circles with her palm. I wanted to put on a brave face and tell her I was fine, that there wasn’t a problem and my heart wasn’t racing with fear, but the look on her face, while caring and concerned, was also warning me not to lie to her. Not that i’d manage anyway, she always had ways of finding out the truth eventually.
I shook my head, letting out a small sigh and turning in my seat to address her. My eyes met hers and I felt my heart settle slightly just by looking at her, she always made me feel safe.
“What’s wrong sweetheart?” She whispered, her hand coming up to rest on my cheek, her thumb stroking my cheekbone in small movements.
“It’s so silly, really.”
“Nothing is silly if it’s upsetting you Detka. Tell me.”
“It’s this movie.”
The confusion was obvious on her face, yet she stayed quiet, allowing me to elaborate.
“I just, I’ve never been the best with clowns. Ever since I was a child, I’ve had this fear of them. If I saw one, I’d run in the opposite direction, which was more often than one would think. I mean, seriously, who wants one of those things at a party? What happened to princess parties? Or tea parties!” I exclaimed, my tone becoming more intense as I spoke.
Natasha nodded, I could almost see the cogs turning in her head, figuring out how to approach the situation. After a minute or two, she focused her eyes back on me and her hands had trailed down to meet with mine, interlocking them in the process.
“Do you want to skip it tonight?” She suggested.
“No, no, I don’t want to cause a fuss. Plus, I kinda don’t want the others knowing.”
“Are you absolutely sure? I’m sure we can pull a sickie for one night.”
“I’m sure. Just, can you stay next to me? And let me hide if it gets really bad?”
“Of course you can. I’ll be next to you the whole time.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
___________________
We were at the haunted house scene in the movie. There had already been jumpscares that I'd managed to avoid for the most part, but I don’t think I've moved past Georgie’s death yet, let alone have time to process the psycho killer clown on the screen.
Eddie was in a room alone, he was staring at this dirty, old fridge and a white hand had appeared, curling itself around and tapping on the side so you could only see it’s fingers. I tugged the blanket that was laid across Natasha and i’s laps and pulled it up to my nose, eyes still on the screen, but prepared to take cover. It appears as though nothing has changed from all those years ago.
As the fridge door creaked open, my blanket had raised higher and higher, my grip tightening by the second while the hand reappeared, this time, you could see it’s entire body contorted into this small space.
“Nope. No, absolutely fucking not. No.” I mumbled, covering my eyes with my fluffy shield. Luckily, Nat had stolen the sofa at the back, meaning I could skip the scary parts without anyone taking much notice, them being too entranced by the movie. Weirdo’s.
In my safety bubble I'd created, I felt my girlfriend’s hand on my thigh, rubbing small circles to reassure me that I was okay, and that she was here. I shuffled a little so I was closer to her, if that was even possible, her then adjusting so that her hand was still on my thigh, but another arm was wrapped securely around me, pulling me into her side a little more.
I assumed we would stay like that for a bit, until she started to shift more noticeably and lifted the part of the blanket closest to her, and put it over her own head, taking me by surprise, a faint gasp leaving my lips when seeing that she’d joined me.
“You doing okay under here?” She spoke softly, a hint of amusement playing on her face as she looked at me folded up into a ball.
“I am. This blanket protects me from all.”
“Of course it does, the fluffier it is, the more protection, right?” She quoted words i’d spoken earlier on when bringing in the blanket for us.
“Are you sure you’re not going to boil under there?”
“Nope. And even if I do, the fluffier the blanket, the more protection from cannibal clowns.” I’d explained proudly. Yes, I'm an Avenger that fights extraterrestrials and demigods and still runs to a blanket for safety, leave me alone.
We stayed under there for a minute or two, holding hands and sharing small kisses while the movie continued and we hid in our little bubble.
“C’mon lovebirds, the movie isn’t over yet, you can continue that when we’ve gone to bed if you must.” Stark called out, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and retreat back to her previous position.
I don’t know what ran through my mind, I clearly didn’t think twice about the situation I was in, my default being to follow Natasha and pull the blanket down and off my head. Upon resurfacing from my cocoon, I looked towards the Television. Bad idea. With a shriek that I'm almost certain could be heard from Asgard, I flew under the blanket again after seeing Pennywise with all of his teeth on show, edging towards Eddie to eat him.
Natasha’s arms wound their way around me again, slightly shaking now from the fright. Even though the blanket tended to muffle sounds, I could hear the room fill with laughter and comments from the Avengers.
“I didn’t know your voice could go that high Y/L/N”
“Pennywise! You scared Y/N!”
“Y/N, it’s literally-”
“How about you guys shut up and watch the movie? Otherwise I swear to god Thor, I’ll bring snakes in here and Sam, I’ll cut the wings off of your suit.” I heard the redhead next to me threaten, alongside some more punishments to the others who laughed, immediately silencing them, all of them knowing that she wasn’t one for an empty threat.
Even though the laughter died down and no more words were spoken, tears still built up in my eyes and were daring to fall down my cheeks. I feel so embarrassed. A room full of superheroes and I was scared to death over a fictional clown in front of all of them.
I tried to keep my sniffles to a minimum and at a level where no one could hear me, however, they seemed to have caught Nat’s attention as she whispered to me, loud enough for me to hear, but quietly so that it was only me that could hear.
“Mind if I come in?”
I chose not to verbally respond, instead, I pulled the edge of the blanket up, allowing her to bend down and make her way underneath. After making herself comfortable, she turned to me and did, what felt like study, my face before tutting under her breath.
“Идиоты. Are you okay?” I smiled at her speaking Russian. She often switched between the two, interchanging within sentences. I’d been around her enough to pick up on some of the terms, funnily enough she’d said that word so often, my understanding was immediate.
“Feeling a bit humiliated” My voice came out weak and slightly gravelly from the crying, her thumb immediately wiped the tears off of my cheeks, lingering afterwards.
“Don’t be. Everyone has their fears, you shouldn’t be embarrassed by having them. Okay? It just means you're human.” She patiently explained, sparking a question to leave my lips before realising.
“Do you have a fear?”
She smiled “mhm”
“Can I know what it is?”
She leaned in closer to me, lips hovering beside my ear so I could feel and hear her breathing quietly.
“Идиоты” She whispered, resulting in me clamping my hand over my mouth to limit the noise my laughter was making.
“There’s that smile I love.” She took my chin in her index finger and her thumb, her face once again, coming closer towards mine before our lips met in the middle, sharing a soft, quick kiss, distracting me from any embarrassment i’d previously felt.
________________
The movie had just finished, everyone was getting up and starting to clear up any mess they’d made, mainly popcorn that had fallen everywhere, Wanda and Vision being the main culprit, jumping at the scary parts had caused a popcorn avalanche near their seats.
Nat and I gathered our blankets and snacks we’d brought in, trying to ignore the slight tension hanging in the air, and just as we were about to walk to our bedroom, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Peter.
Rocking back and forth on his heels and fidgeting with his hands, he smiled.
“Hey, uh- miss Y/L/N. Miss Romanoff, sorry, I just wanted to come and make sure you were okay.” He rushed, clearly anxious to approach us considering the telling off Natasha gave everyone earlier.
“I’m okay, thank you Peter. You can call me Y/N by the way, ‘miss’ makes me feel old.” I chuckled, visibly seeing his shoulders relax at my response, he was really sweet, never wanting to get on anyone’s bad side. He’s a good kid.
“Sorry mi-,Y/N, sorry, I’ll remember for next time. That movie was pretty freaky, if there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”
“I will, thank you.”
Feeling more relaxed, I made a slow but steady beeline for the bedroom, wanting to have cuddles with Nat and go to sleep, hopefully forget the movie ever happened. Soon enough, we were both changed into a vest top, I wore a pair of shorts and Nat wore a pair of sweats and we were in bed, facing each other with our legs tangled together, our noses bumping every so often.
“I love you” I mumbled in between kisses, eyes opening briefly to be met by her green orbs looking back at me.
“I love you more, Detka.”
A silence then overtook the room, only being able to hear the breeze outside and a slight whistle from where it was flying through the trees. I’d usually adore this, finding peace in the wind and the darkness, tonight however, it felt unsettling. All I could hear in my head was the soundtrack to the movie, picturing the bloody teeth and that creepy smile from earlier in my head.
“Love?” I nudged my girlfriend’s nose gently, hoping she was still somewhat awake.
“Mhmm?”
“Can you, can you possibly sing to me?” Her eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile on her face, wrapping her arms tightly around me before humming a quiet melody, sending me into a blissful sleep.
By noon the next day, I had received apologies from everyone in the compound, a couple of bone crushing hugs from Thor and some complementary pancakes that Wanda had made with some help from Bruce, aprons on and covered in flour. Everyone tucked into their individual stacks, enjoying some lighthearted conversation, Nat taking the opportunity to press a small kiss to the back of my hand, I quickly returned the gesture. It was lovely.
Movie night was a rollercoaster, but at the end of the day, I was surrounded by the best people, and nothing would change that, not even the fear of clowns.
Though they’re still really fucking scary.
taglist: @the-dumbass-that-throws-knives
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katyasrussianaccent · 3 years
Text
symptom of your touch (natasha romanoff x reader)
Author's note: This is my first natasha smut fic, been writing it in my head for so long. Hopefully you enjoy this piece of self-indulgent smut!
Summary: You're Tony's personal assistant with a crush on Black Widow. Could it be possible that she might feel the same?
Warnings: Bathroom sex, bottom! Nat.
The first time you met Natasha was in the meeting room at Stark tower. You’d been working as Tony’s personal assistant for about two months now; a job that was both unexpected but incredibly appreciated - the daily bills through your letterbox were getting more and more threatening, red words in large letters demanding money you didn’t have.
You were a friend of Sam’s; you used to jog together before you were replaced by Captain America. You didn’t mind, not really, because well, it was Captain America. You couldn’t compete with that ass. And while you didn’t jog as much, Sam always made sure you were okay.
Like most people; you were a fan of the Avengers. If you had to pick a favourite, it would have been Black Widow. Maybe it was because she was the only woman, but there was something about her that you just really liked. And it wasn’t just because she’s really fucking hot and you’re really gay.
You had walked into the meeting room; your hands full with various drinks. For superheroes, the Avengers were really particular about their drink orders; for instance Thor gets really annoyed if they forget the whipped cream on his hot chocolate. You walked round the room, handing each drink out and trying to not look so obvious as you eavesdropped. You handed Clint his drink and turned towards Natasha. You assumed she had been away on a mission, because she hadn’t been around until now. You swallowed a little; the object of your affections was literally sitting right in front of you.
“Agent Romanoff,” you said, holding out her drink; a matcha green tea latte. She looked at you for a second, a thoughtful look on her face as she cocked her head towards Tony.
“What happened to…..?” Natasha trailed off, looking at Tony expectantly.
“Shannon. Pregnant,” Tony answered, putting his hands out over his abdomen to mimic a pregnant stomach. “She was two seconds away from turning the floor into a slip and slide.”
Natasha scrunched her nose up before looking back at you. She took the drink from your hand, a small smile on her face before she turned back to the team. And it was in that brief moment, that you knew that she was going to be a big problem for you.
It’s a while before you see Natasha again; not that you were keeping check. You’re in the meeting room cleaning up; humming a song as you pick up pieces of paper. The door opens and you look behind to see Natasha standing in the doorway.
“Oh. Good afternoon Agent Romanoff,” you say, smiling. She was in her civilian clothes; a simple tank top and dark jeans. The jeans are practically molded to her shape, and it takes every ounce of willpower to not stare at her ass as she passes behind you. You aren’t sure how someone could make such a simple outfit look so amazing. “Did you need something?”
“Clint, he forgot his phone,” she replies, walking behind you and grabbing the cell phone that lay on the table. “I swear he would forget his head if it wasn’t attached.”
“Good thing he has you to keep him in check.”
She smiles politely in reply but doesn’t respond as she walks towards the door. Your mouth opens slightly to say something, anything, to make her stay just a little bit longer. You fail to do so in time, and you sigh as the door closes and the room is empty again. You aren’t sure what makes Natasha so fascinating, you’ve spoken to her literally twice, but there’s just something about her that makes her so enigmatic. Though you suppose it’s literally her job to be like that, and you briefly think of the people that have fallen under her spell.
It’s strange, how although she’s incredibly dangerous, she feels just like a normal person, a person that could kill you in one move, but a normal person nonetheless.
You’re chopping tomatoes in the kitchen, your mind starting to zone out as you watch the knife slice through with ease. It’s been a long day; while working for Tony has been a lifeline that you desperately needed, you don’t think you’ve ever felt so tired. The fridge door beside you closes, and you startle at the sudden noise, the knife moves from the tomato to your finger, the pain sharp as blood begins to pool in the cut.
“Fuck,” you say, hissing as you press you other hand against the cut, moving to the sink to run it under water.
“I am so sorry,” a voice says behind you, and you turn your head to see Natasha at your side. “Are you okay?”
You sigh a little, “I’m fine, but the tomatoes are ruined.”
Natasha moves nearer to you, so close you can feel the heat radiating from her body and any previous pain you felt has suddenly disappeared at the mere proximity of her. “It’s okay, Stark can afford a few tomatoes.”
You giggle before reaching over to get a paper towel, but Natasha beats you to it, pressing the towel onto your wound wordlessly.
“Baby,” she mutters as you wince and you look at her, mouth agape in shock. She ignores you, and you take this opportunity to look at her as she tends to the small cut on your finger. She must have been somewhere hot on her last mission; from this close you can see the slight colour on her nose and cheekbones where she’s caught the sun. As she moves out of your personal space, the scent of her invades your nostrils and you’re surprised that she smells so delicate and floral.
“I think you’ll live” she says, jutting her chin out to point to the small band aid on your finger.
“Have you ever thought about being a doctor?”
“Why? My bedside manner not appealing to you?” she asks, and you look down to hide the blush on your face as you think briefly about what Natasha’s bedside manner could entail.
“Uh, not at all, it’s very appealing. I mean, not very appealing -”
“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” she says as she leaves the kitchen, leaving you with a bandaid on your finger and a warmth between your thighs.
--
The first thing you notice about the party is how loud it is. It’s Tony’s birthday, so Stark tower has been transformed into a full on party tower. The room is crammed with people, and you take a moment to look around to see if you can find someone you know to attach yourself to. It wasn’t that you disliked parties, you just weren’t the type to spark a conversation with strangers. You can see Thor in the middle of the room, holding a keg as Steve is on the floor chugging from it. Guess even Captain America needs to let loose sometimes.
You bite your lip as you scan the people near you, your eyes zeroing in Natasha. You take the opportunity to watch her briefly from a distance. She looks amazing, a simple black dress that has a slit to the upper thigh that shows a delicious amount of leg when she moves. You haven’t spoken since she called you cute, and the more you thought about it, the more confused you were. While cute was a compliment, you weren’t sure if she meant it in a puppy kind of way. Sexy wasn’t the first thing you thought about yourself, but you kind of wish that she had picked a better word. Maybe you were just imagining tension that wasn’t there because you hoped it was there.
You exhale any nervousness and plaster a smile on your face as you walk towards her. She raises an eyebrow in greeting and you wave at her, immediately regretting it.
“Hi,” you greet and she smiles a little.
“You look nice,” she says, her eyes roaming over your body. Okay, maybe you weren’t imagining things.
You blush, your face feeling warm as you mutter a quiet thanks. “It has pockets,” you respond lamely, putting your hands in them and pulling the dress out, like she needs to be shown what pockets were.
“Drink?” Natasha asks, cocking her head towards the bar. You shake your head. “You don’t drink?”
“I do, just not here. I don’t want to make an idiot of myself in front of my boss,” you answer. You don’t have a problem with alcohol per se, you just never know when to call it quits. And while drunk you is fun, you really want to make a good impression.
Natasha nods in understanding but walks off towards the bar anyway, and you stand there for a second confused before following.
“Two virgin daiquiris,” you hear her say as you get to her. You can see the bartender pull a face at the request, but it quickly disappears when he sees who’s ordering.
“Coming up,” he mumbles, his eyes glued to anywhere but Natasha as he moves with haste.
“I think you scared him,” you comment and Natasha smiles a little, a smug smile that shouldn’t be so sexy, but it really is.
“I get that a lot,” she replies and you hum in acknowledgement. “Do I scare you?”
The question takes you aback and you ponder a moment before answering. “Do you want me to be scared of you?”
“Answer the question,” she says, a little firm in her tone.
“No. No you don’t scare me.”
She purses her lips. “I think you might be one of the only ones not scared of me.”
“Is that a bad thing?” you ask and she closes her eyes for a second, sighing.
“Fear is a very powerful thing. I like the way it feels,” she says, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen her look so vulnerable.
“There are other powerful emotions other than fear,” you reply. You aren’t sure how to respond to her, serious conversation was not your strong suit.
“Like?”
“Lust. Love. Anger.”
There’s a beat of silence between you as you look at each other, your eyes reading over her unreadable face, nothing on her features to give away what she's thinking.
“So you aren’t scared of me. What emotion do you feel?” Natasha asks, causing you to splutter as you take a sip of you drink and you’re suddenly wishing your drink had alcohol in it.
“Out of the three I just gave?” you ask and she nods. “Uh well, I hadn’t um really thought about it.”
It’s stupid of you, to lie to a literal spy and you know for a fact she know’s you’re lying.
“That’s not true,” she replies and you take a sideways glance at her. “You think I haven’t noticed you looking at me?”
Your heartbeat quickens and you start to stammer an apology. “I - “
“I know, because I’ve been looking at you too.”
“Wait what?” you ask incredulously. “Are you sure there’s no booze in this drink?”
Natasha laughs and you smile at the sight of her. “Very sure. You’re very cute, did you know that?”
“I did not, but now I do. I’ll be honest, this doesn’t happen to me a lot, so I’m not really sure what to say or do.”
She slides closer to you, a smirk on her face as she leans close, her breath warm on your cheek. “Well there’s a bathroom over there.”
It takes a minute for you to register what she means, and you can see her wait patiently as you look at the bathroom door across the room and then back at her. The blood is rushing in your ears as you grab her hand and pull her across the room, adrenaline pumping through your veins.
The bathroom is luckily empty when you both enter, and your hands don’t leave hers as you push her into the stall furthest away from the door. You open your mouth to speak but it’s interrupted as she surges forward, her lips on yours. She tastes like strawberries with a slight hint of booze, and you wonder how many drinks she’s had before you arrived. You find yourself not really caring as her hands move to your neck, yours follow down to her hips, your fingertips ghosting her back.
You’ve kissed before, but this is different, like fireworks and gunpowder in a small room; every nerve in your body alight with hot, searing fire. You switch her round so her back is against the door, your hands roaming ever inch of her body, tight muscle beneath your fingertips. Part of you wants to take your time, explore every part of her, but the greedy part of your brain wins out and it’s not long before you’ve got one hand moving in between her thighs.
Your mouth is on her neck, licking and sucking at the hollow of her collarbone, a small moan falling from her lips and you want to hear that sound again and again. She opens her legs and you cup her above her panties before going underneath them, your fingers moving past soft curls and into the warm, wetness of her pussy.
You curl your fingers up, and she gasps, her breath hot and fast against your skin. You move them inside her, pumping in and out slowly as her hand grips at your hip. It feels powerful; to have the great Black Widow fucking herself on your fingers in an act of desperation.
“Please,” she whispers as you continue to slowly move.
“Please what?” you ask, stopping completely causing a small whine to escape her lips.
“Please fuck me,” Natasha replies, rolling her hips against your fingers.
“Okay,” you say simply. You press a kiss to her cheek before sinking to your knees. A brief thought about gross bathroom floors crosses your mind, but you push it away as her hand strokes your hair. She takes the hint and pulls her dress up around her hips. Your hands move up her thighs, nudging them apart so you can pull down the lacy underwear she wears; shoving them into your bag. Pressing kisses up her thigh, her breath hitches as your mouth ghosts against her clit. She sighs as your tongue swipes at her once before moving in to circle at her clit with your tongue.
She moans, a low, quiet moan that ends quickly as you both hear the bathroom door open, the chatter of two women filling the once silent room. You look up at her, raising an eyebrow in question. Natasha looks down at you, a slight flush on her cheeks as she nods. You place a finger to your lips, before moving back between her thighs. She tastes sweet, sweeter than you imagined, but there’s something there, a slight tang that makes your tongue tingle. Of course she would taste fucking perfect; everything about her is perfect, and you can’t stop yourself from tasting her more and more, drinking her in.
Your fingers join your mouth and she’s warm as she clenches with every movement inside her. She’s jutting her hips against your mouth, and you can feel your wrist start to cramp as you fuck her roughly, but you know she’s close, the grip in your hair getting harder. It’s starting to get uncomfortable, your knees are starting to hurt, but you want to make her come undone, to fall apart.
You hook her leg over your shoulder to get deeper, never stopping the pace as you fuck her. Her body begins to shudder, and you look up to see her shove a fist in her mouth at the exact moment the toilet next to you flushes. A moan escapes her but neither of you seem to care as she rides the wave of her orgasm. Her chest has a sheen of sweat, and you want to run your tongue over it, taste the salt of her skin. But that’s for another time.
Natasha looks down at you as she tries to catch her breath, and you get to your feet ungracefully, wincing as your knees twinge. There’s uncertainty in your stomach as you look at her. What does this mean, does it mean anything to her? You had just made her cum in a bathroom stall, but maybe that was normal. It wasn’t to you, but normality was subjective.
“This party’s kind of boring, do you want to get something to eat?” Natasha asks, breaking you from your inner turmoil. You blink at her as your brain registers what she’s saying. The once uncertain voice in your head is screaming at you to say yes.
“Sure,” you reply simply.
“Cool,” she says, nodding, her face still slightly flushed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say she felt a little awkward.
“I’m not getting those panties back am I?” she asks as you walk towards the bathroom door and head back into the party.
“Nope,” you say, patting your bag for good measure. “Besides, you might not need them.”
--
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aliasimagines · 3 years
Text
It Was You All Along // Dave Lizewski
requested by a lovely anon 💕
Can u write dave x fem!reader where reader Always had a crush on him but he kinda ignored reader bc of Katie but then someone popular asks reader out and he gets jealous and y/n dresses up super hot and he realizes he fucked up
word count: 1809
a/n: i hope this is close enough! ❤️ (i couldn't think of a different title but this one reminds me of Agatha All Along xd)
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"Hey, Dave! My folks are gone for the weekend and I thought we could have an X-men watch party. Wanna come?" 
"Sorry I can't, I'm hanging out with Katie." 
"Again?" you ask a bit louder than intended,causing a few people to look at you in the hallway. You continue with a lower voice "Aren't you like, tired of all the lying? Like, what if she finds out that you're not actually gay, hm? Cause you know she will, eventually." 
"Why do you care so much?!" Dave says, clearly frustrated. 
You raise an eyebrow. 
"Oh why would I? Maybe because we have been best friends since diapers, you stupid asshole!" you say not caring if some students hear you or not, anymore. "But you know what, you are right. I shouldn't care. Go play pretend with Katie but don't come to me, crying when you end up getting your heart broken." 
"Don't worry, I won't." he snaps back. And you turn around and leave but not before flipping him off. You felt the angry tears rolling down your cheeks as you zigzagged between the chattering teenagers. 
You couldn’t  believe how Dave could be so blind! He only had eyes for Miss Perfect. Whom by the way, is a real bitch and would go back to ignoring Dave or calling him a freak if it wasn’t for his little gay act. 
Somehow you made your way over to the restroom and locked yourself into one of the booths.
Dave couldn’t even see you as a potential “love-interest”. Eventhough you were the one who always were there for him, you were always there when he called, running to him like a lost puppy. And he couldn’t even care less. And you hate him for it. But you hate yourself more for still liking him. 
It’s not like you can do something about it, if you could, you would have. But that’s not how it works, so you are just crying your guts out on the toilet trying not to think about Dave.
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In all honesty, you have no idea how you made it through the day. You almost cried during biology but you caught yourself after a few lonely tears. You could feel Dave’s gaze on you but there was no way you would look at him. As soon as the last bell rang you were out of school, hurring past Tod and Marty, not being in the mood for them either.
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The next day wasn’t any different, you didn’t hang with Dave, Tod and Marty like you normally do. You didn’t sit with them at lunch, instead walked over to the only empty table you saw and placed your tray there. You mounched on your food, completely unaware of your surroundings until you hear the chair next to you being pulled out. You look up to see Matthew Greendale, resident hottie of the school sit next to you. 
"Hey, sorry, it's not a problem if I sit here, right?" he asks. You eyed him suspiciously. 
"No, it's fine." 
It's fine?! You mentally scold yourself. You never even spoke to this guy, outside of literature in first year. Why would he sit next to you? 
"I didn't want to sit with all the other "popular jocks" he answered you unspoken question while taking a bite of his canteen-hamburger. “They’re fun and everything but it’s nice to get away from them sometimes.”
You think of your friends who are sitting a few tables away and you can’t help but agree with Matthew.
“Yeah, I feel you.” you say without thinking.
“Hey..We used to sit next to each other in freshman year, didn’t we? It’s y/n ,right?” 
You nod with a smile, honestly being surprised that he remembers you.
“Yeah!”
“I haven’t really seen you around a lot. But when I do you are always hanging with those comic book nerds.”
“Hey! Comics are great.”
He puts his hands up in a defense.
“Oh no! I didn’t mean it as an insult. Some comics are good, my little brother made read one last month. It was actually great.”
“What comic was it?”
“Oh, uhm..It was about some kind of blind dude in a devil costume.”
“Daredevil?” you ask with a giggle.
“Yes, that one!” he laughs too.
The two of you continue talking until the end of lunch break. He is surprisingly fun to talk to and he even offers to walk you to your next class after lunch. You had such a good time you didn’t even think about Dave, heck, you didn’t even notice him literally glaring daggers into Matthew.
“What’s up with you, dude?” Tod asks snapping Dave out of it. 
“Yeah, Dave. What the shit is going on with you and Y/N?” Marty asks too.
Dave forrows is eyebrows. Yes, what the shit is going on with the two of you? Every since yesterday's 'fight' with you he can't stop thinking. About how he spends most, if not all of his time either with being Kick-Ass or, rather with Katie. It used to be different. He spent every second with you and he just threw you away so he could maybe get laid. And sure, Katie may be hot as fuck but she is.. Well, she is not you. 
"We had a fight, yesterday. I.. And she was right." he explains with a grimace. "But why the fuck is that Greendale asshole is with her?" 
"You jealous or something, dude?" 
"Wha- Of course I am not jealous! Why would I be? You guys are nuts." 
Jealous… The word rolled around in his mouth like a new flavored milkshake he never tasted before. 
Could he be… Jealous? He never thought of you that way, you were always his best friend. Just that. But.. The more he thinks about it the more he can't stop that twist like feeling in his stomach. 
That night he can't focus on crime fighting. All his thoughts are tied to you. Whether he likes it or not, memories of you keep popping up in his mind. How didn't he notice your beautiful smile before? And your laugh? It's like a beautiful melody. And… Gosh! When did he become such a sappy teenager? Oh and another thing.. He kept trying to think of something else, anything else like Katie for example but he doesn't care anymore! 
Dave goes home early with a frustrated growl. The remaining hours of the night he spends with tossing and turning and daydreaming instead of sleeping. 
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(the next afternoon, Atomic Comics) 
Dave bangs his head against the wood table once again. A tired groan leaves his lips when he hears Tod almost choking on his iced coffee. 
"What the tunk, Tod?" Marty and Dave ask almost at the same time. The dirty blonde haired boy keeps pointing outside the huge window that they are sitting next to at Atomic Comics. 
"Is that fucking y/n?!" 
Now all three of them look outside the shop and see you, all dressed up nad seemingly waiting for someone. 
"Holy fuck!" Dave whispers. He stares at you, with his mouth a gap before jumping up from the booth they were sitting at and rushing outside the store. 
"Y/n! Y/-" he yells almost tripping on thin air. 
"Dave?" you question, quickly turning towards him. Damn, you missed him. No! Yeah, you did… "What do you want?" 
"What do I- What, can't I talk to you?" 
"If you wanted to talk you would have in these past days!" you say. Yes, you might have missed him, but it's not like you're gonna show it. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I am waiting for my date to show up." 
"Your.. Your what, now?!" 
"My date" 
"You can't go on a date!" 
"And why is that, Lizewski?" 
"Lizewski? Really, you're calling me by my surname? Are we in such a bad place right now?" 
"I don't know, you tell me. Are you going to tell me what i can and can't do, hm?" 
"I didn't mean it like that. I just…" 
"What, it's fine when you say it but when I do it with you about Katie I'm the bad friend?" 
"No,it's just-" 
"Sorry. Matt's here." you point to the street across the road where you saw the boy walk towards you. "I gotta go." 
You start walking away but Dave grabs your wrist. 
"Please, don't." he mumbles. 
"Why not?" you snap at him but your expressions soften upon your eyes land on his saddened face. 
"I- because I don't want you with him. O-or anyone." 
You raise an eyebrow. 
"What?" 
He took a deep breath before looking around. Matt was waiting patiently by the traffic light so he could cross the road. Dave quickly began explaining. 
"You were right. About Katie. I was such a dickhead, I am so sorry, y/n. I am sorry for ignoring you over her and and.." from the corner of his eye he sees the traffic light turn green. "Shit! I don't want you to go out with Greendale cause I.. Because I like you. Like really fucking like you. And oh my god you look so fucking hot in this outfit, not that you're not always hot but holy shit. I know we are just friends and you don't think of me that way but I ju-"
"Oh my god! Do you ever shut up?" you yell before pressing your lips to his. Dave stumbled back a little, but quickly recovered and kissed back. Your hands cupped his face and his hands grabbed your waist in response. You both tilled your heads, deepening the kiss earning loud knocking from Marty and Tod as they watched the whole scene through the window. Not that you noticed any of it. You didn't hear the passing by car honk at you nor the yells or whistles. You also did not notice Matthew walking away with a sad smile after seeing the two of you. Your touches intertwine and you're pretty sure you heard Dave moan slightly which causes you to giggle into the kiss. You both pull away gasping for air. You look down at your shoes, hoping to hide your flushed cheeks. Dave scratches his back and looks around nervously only to see his two idiotic friends making kissy faces. He lifts his middle finger for them before clearing his throat. 
"So.. Khm.. I guess you like me too?" 
You let out a soft chuckle.
"Yeah, I do." you say looking at him with a smile.
"That's.. Fuck. That's great." he replied genuinely happy. "Wanna get out of here?" 
You nod and you take off. You take Dave's hand and he intertwines your fingers with a smile. Maybe he is truly a superhero. He helps people and he gets the girl of his dreams. The happy ending. 
Dave Lizewski taglist : @sethcohenluvr @your-hispanichufflepuff
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constellaj · 3 years
Note
Can you please talk more about your very cool valerie and cujo concept ? Because honestly that's such a big brain take. I almost always see danny having cujo as a companion but never valerie. Is she going to ride cujo into battles instead of using the hoverboard ?
OKAY SO
in the reboot valerie has actually been fighting ghosts for a WHILE now. actually the audience finds out at the same time danny finds out-- when hes miles high in the sky going after a ghost and this RANDO comes outta nowhere. hold on i have some super rough sketches i did the other day for these bits
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the "red huntress" is, according to her, Amity Parks *ONLY* ghost-busting superhero, and amity doesn't need another one;
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at school of course danny is complaining about this rando getting on his case (he has no idea who she is) and hes rambling and yelling like "who does she think she IS??? i'm the SUPERHERO AROUND HERE" and sam just blankfacedly goes "dude, shes been superheroing for longer than you." tucker/sam pull up an article on valerie and her stunts from a while ago (altho shes of course just a "mysterious figure" and is more often than not cited as a cryptid, because at this point in the story ghosts are still largely a superstition in amity park) (to elaborate a little, my amity park isnt haunted primarily because of the fenton portal, but it just happens to be a ghost hotspot; val has been fending off ghosts for a couple years now)
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at the same time theres also parallels between val/danny regarding the superheroing thing, eg val's dad would think its a waste of her time or too dangerous, etc. the above panel isnt like a final concept but i think it would be rly neat/funny if val also had a friend or two who was the sam/tucker to her secret identity (cant have it be paulina or dash tho bc reasons)
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val brings cujo with her everywhere and he just sits in her backpack and he looks. real dumb. and causes so many problems.
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danny is never gonna figure out her secret identity btw and she’ll never figure out his i just like it more that way (well except for the big plot twist/finale-ish episode but thats besides the point)
ANYWAY backstory ive rambled long enough as is dancing around the point UHHHHHHHHHHHH
cujo is valerie’s dog. also a halfa
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(old art, no longer final)
val has had cujo since before he was a ghost he is just a very excitable lil pubby and she loves him very much
BASICALLY wulf (who is more of a typical wolf/dog and way more malicious) opened up a portal directly ON cujo a couple years ago as an attack
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(last one is old art)
but because of how danny phantom rules are, this turned cujo into a halfa instead of outright killing him. this whole Incident(TM) of course gave val an anti-ghost vendetta in 0 seconds flat and now shes got it out for every ghost in amity, wulf especially. after getting over the terror that is your puppy now being able to shapeshift into a MASSIVE GLOWING GREEN DOG, she learned how to train cujo to use his ghostly abilities to their advantage so they can protect amity park better! in ‘normal form’ cujo still looks like a completely average dog (and has more difficulty flying etc without specific commands) so its not really suspicious
valerie hand-made everything else she uses to fight ghosts, including the costume and whatever weapons she has (I still haven’t decided on a signature weapon)-- no hoverboard at all (yet. seasons progress), instead, yes, she rides Cujo into battle! with a few whistles/commands she can have him fly, turn intangible, etc, helping them stay in pursuit of anything that dares attack amity park
i really wanted to keep cujo tied with valerie bc it felt weird to me that he was only used in getting val her powers and then just. didnt come up again (i know the afterlife “moving on” bit was implied but. youd think val would at least adopt a dog later or something). and i also really wanted to cut out vlad giving val her stuff and instead give her her own agency- she is a black belt, after all. so this is the final concept, and man am i pleased w it :)
she still hates danny and they end up being like absolute rivals and she doesnt trust a ghost as far as she can throw it but it becomes more of a bickering-over-how-to-save-the-day one than her directly trying to kill him (until he fucks up, majorly, and even then danny also gets on HER nerves intentionally because, hello, he’s the GHOST EXPERT here). and of course of course the ending of the red huntress DEBUT episode is 100% them having to set aside their differences and work together to defeat Wulf and his owner
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imagine-nation20 · 3 years
Text
Sunshine and The Art of Picking Your Battles
Summary: “I wasn’t planning on rescuing anyone today, but it looks like my plans just changed.”
Requested By: Anon
Request: “I wasn’t planning on rescuing anyone today, but it looks like my plans just changed.” for Jason Todd (with the reader being kidnapped by any villain you want)
A/N: Jason Todd will forever and always be the best robin and I will not take criticism. Also I love writing established relationship with superheroes where one doesn’t know the other is a vigilante, so enjoy some reader having no sense of self preservation, and Jason outing himself as the red hood.
~~~
You hated Gotham. Or rather, you hated the criminal underbelly of Gotham, which wasn’t so much an underbelly as it was a very obvious toupee on the top of the head of the city. Gotham was built on crime, and it would probably crumble under the weight of crime. Most people who lived there were either involved in crime, or involved in the vigilante justice served by the masked crusaders.
Running a bar in Gotham was bad, running a bar in the crummy part of Gotham was worse. That is, if you could claim any part of Gotham wasn’t crummy.
Still, it was a better job than some of the other options. Who could blame the owner of the place appointing you manager and fucking off to his apartment in the only part of Gotham that could afford working deadbolts.
So it was no wonder that you got jumped on your way home after a particularly grueling shift.
Three men dressed in suits too nice for the area. It was pretty much common sense to learn some form of self defense if you were going to live in a city like Gotham, however, three against one wasn’t exactly fair odds.
They tied your wrists, dropped a bag over your head, and then hit you with something heavy and blunt that was probably going to leave permanent damage.
Waking up was a headache, to say the least. Your head pounded like a drum, the blood rushing through your ears sounding like the waves against the harbor. Or maybe that really was the harbor.
It didn’t really matter, because you had a bigger problem to worry about than whether or not the ‘whooshing’ in your ear was blood or water. 
A man, dressed in an expensive suit, stood a few feet away. His head was covered in the dark, slightly shiny material of a mask, shaped like a skull. Beady eyes peered through, staring you down.
“So, what is a bartender like yourself doing associating with the Red Hood?” Roman Sionis was easily recognizable, and his identity was not a secret to the citizens of the city. He seemed almost proud to lord the fact that everyone knew who he was, but couldn’t put him away for anything tangible.
Unless of course that person was Batman or one of his many disciples.
“What the fuck are you on about?” You slurred. You cursed yourself internally for your inability to keep your mouth shut. Most of the time you were okay, but you were tired, and in pain, and this was the third time this week you had been assaulted, so you were over it. Criminals and crime lords were a dime a dozen, and despite his very intimidating reputation, you could not care less about Black Mask.
He laughed, and it almost sounded genuine, “I’m talking about the fact that I have on good word that Red Hood has been in your shitty little bar almost every night for the past week.”
You were going to kill Kallista.
You avoided associating with vigilantes, but your coworker, and the woman who worked most night to day shifts, was known for giving vigilantes free drinks when they dropped in. Now, it seemed you had been mistaken for her. Serves you right for having the audacity to pick up her shift when she was sick.
You had seen a few of them drop in on your way out, but never Red Hood. She probably told him not to catch you, since you would have reemed her for it. Red Hood wasn’t a criminal, but he was known for incurring their wrath like no one else, and that usually ended up in situations like this.
Yes, Kallista was going to die… so long as you made it out of this.
“Listen pal,” you started, glancing around the room for a way out. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
You weren’t a bad friend, and you certainly weren’t going to sick Roman Sionis on your friend. Even if she did get you in this situation in the first place.
“Don’t fucking lie to me!” He yelled, taking quick steps towards you. You winced back, hearing the flick of a switchblade, and feeling the cold press against your cheek.
“Listen, if I was associating with the Red Hood, I would have told you by now.”
“For some reason, I just don’t believe you.”
“Well well well, look what the cat dragged in,” A voice echoed through the warehouse. From above, you could see the familiar brown leather jacket, and bright red helmet of the Red Hood. He was reclined against a support beam, legs dangling off the one he was sitting on. “I’m going to be honest with you, I wasn’t planning on rescuing anyone today, but it looks like my plans just changed.”
Hopping down from the beam, he landed, knees bent, feet light. It was almost impressive, the way he could silently drop. If you weren’t so tired, you might have taken the time to marvel at the way his pants bunched and stretched. Kallista was right after all, there was a certain appeal to the vigilantes in uniform.
Roman shifted around you, knife going to your neck. You took in a sharp breath, glaring at the Red Hood as he faltered in his pace.
“Take another step and she dies,”
“I was gonna say thanks for coming, Hood,” You glared, “but you’ve kinda made the situation worse.”
You could almost see the tick of annoyance through the mask. His fists clenching slightly, he grumbled, “This is the thanks I get?”
“I’ll thank you when I don’t have a knife to my jugular.”
Black Mask tightened his grip on you, knife digging in a slight bit. You didn’t think it had pierced skin yet, but you couldn’t be sure. 
The next few seconds seemed to go by in an instant. The shattering of glass, the whizzing of something through the air, the knife nicked your neck, then was gone, and so was the grip of Roman Sionis.
Red Hood moved towards you, gloved hands untying the ropes that kept you bound to the chair. You looked to the side, seeing Black Mask passed out on the ground, a strange arrow sticking to the outside of his helmet. You could have sworn you saw little strings of electricity still moving over the black material.
The masked vigilante hoisted you from the chair, his arms slipping behind your back and beneath your knees.
“Seriously?” You deadpanned, “I can walk, you know. My legs aren’t broken.”
It didn’t seem like he cared, as he scoffed, “I still haven’t heard a thank you.”
“I didn’t think heroes were so egotistical.”
“Not really a hero, sunshine,” you could hear the smile in his voice, even through the strange effect his helmet gave off. You went stiff at the name.
Jason faltered mid step, and you knew you had him. Spewing a flurry of curses, you wriggled out of his hold and onto the gravel below. The rocks bit into your skin, and Jason moved to crouch and help, but you were already up and slapping at his arm.
“You son of a bitch, Jason,” you whisper shouted, “you’re so stupid. How long have you been the- no, I don’t want to know.”
“Sunshine-”
“Don’t you sunshine me, Todd,” you growled, “You didn’t think to tell me you were a fucking vigilante? And moreover, you were getting free drinks from my coworker while she ranted to me about your thighs?”
“What?” Jason asked, shaking his head. “No, no, I wasn’t… I was looking out for you! I was trying to make sure you got home safe! What about my thighs?”
You paused, mouth hanging open. You hadn’t known Jason for very long. He had come in during one of your shifts with a busted lip and a dazzling smile, and left with your number and the promise of a date. You should have guessed back then, if you were being honest, but you believed him when he said he had gotten jumped. Maybe he had been telling the truth, just not the whole truth.
Stalling so that you didn’t give in to his guilty look so easily, you glanced around. So it had been the ocean you were hearing. You turned back around, trying and failing to hold the vicious glare.
“You better have a ride back to my apartment, cause we are about to have a long talk about impulse control, honesty, and the art of picking battles.”
“You sound like my dad.”
Silence.
“OH MY GOD IS BRUCE WAYNE-”
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mybunnyparadenme · 3 years
Text
chaossanthebae replied to your post “Graphic design is NOT my passion and all I have is...”Listen to me listen to me, B1, we have some...
Sorry it took so long! OTZ I hope you like it, I made sure that Kenny’s 100% just a civilian here. Long live Chaos/Kenny supremacy :D
--
B1 - Professor Chaos/Kenny
Kenny's mind felt so hazy as he slowly made his way into consciousness.
He blinked, not recognizing his surroundings, and felt his eyebrows furrow together when he tried to move and found that his arms were bound behind his back. Seeing as he wasn't naked, he figured this wasn't the fun version of being all tied up, but he couldn't think of any other situation that would leave him in this position. The last thing he remembered was leaving the store after picking up a gallon of milk for breakfast the next morning. There had been... a loud noise, maybe an explosion? Then a flash of light, and then here he was in this high-tech room, feeling like he'd been hit by a bus. But he wasn't alone, he quickly realized as he noticed movement from the corner of his eye. A handsome guy in a ridiculous outfit was walking towards him, his blue eyes seeming to spark with electricity with every step he took.
"Ah, sleeping beauty's finally awake." He said, a grin slowly rising on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest. Damn, he had nice biceps. "I didn't zap you too hard, did I?"
"Who the fuck are you?" Kenny asked, feeling his lips twist into a scowl. "And what did you do to my milk?"
"Oh, I put it in the fridge to keep it from spoiling." The guy said, his expression turning sheepish for a moment before his smug mask fell back into place. "And as for who I am, well... you'll know soon enough." 
Kenny was ready to tell this guy off for being overly vague (and for abducting him of course), but before he could get the first word out, the large screen on the wall in front of them lit up. An overweight guy about their age took up most of the screen, the top half of his face hidden behind a black raccoon mask. 
Great, now he had to deal with furries on top of everything.
"Chaos!" Raccoon Boy bellowed, his voice so gravelly Kenny wondered if he had a cold. "Show yourself!"
"Right on time." Chaos took a few steps into view and grinned up at him. "Why if it isn't The Coon! So nice of you to join us, did you need Call Girl's help to hack into my frequency, or were you able to follow the breadcrumbs this time?"
"Cut the banter Chaos, what have you done to the hostage?"
"He's fine." Chaos said, gesturing to Kenny behind him. "Though for how long, I can't really say. It's amazing how high you can turn up the voltage before the human body starts to lose control."
"You've sunk to a new low, haven't you?" The Coon growled, his eyes darkening as he stared at Chaos. "Electrocuting civilians is barbaric!"
"Oh, like clawing up my minions is any better?" Blue electricity crackled in the air around Chaos, making the hair on Kenny's arms stand on end. "You think you're so heroic, but really you're hardly any better than I am!"
"I am better than you!"
Things were starting to click in Kenny's head, and he tuned out the arguing to really think things through. Electricity, minions, Chaos... oh he remembered now! The guy in front of him was Professor Chaos, the new villain in town who was quickly building an empire of crime in South Park. Kenny felt a bit comforted by this realization, strange as that might be. He could handle being used as a pawn in some superhero political bullshit, no problem. There were worse things to be kidnapped over, like being used for organ harvesting or being part of a serial killer's sick fantasy. This was nothing.
He watched the two of them argue for a minute, frowning when he saw that neither one of them was really getting anywhere with this... negotiation? That was probably what this was supposed to be, but it was looking more and more like a petty squabble between childhood frenemies. He leaned forward in his seat as far as he could and whispered, "Hey, Chaos?"
Chaos jumped, looking like he'd forgotten that Kenny had been in the room at all. "Y-Yes, what is it?" 
"If you really want to intimidate him, give him a deadline." Kenny said, nodding at The Coon, who seemed to be in the middle of a long monologue about the difference between good and evil. He also didn't look like he was paying any attention to him, the person he was supposed to be saving. God, the guy must really like the sound of his own voice. "Tell him he's got a day, that should shut him up for a bit."
Chaos gave him the most bewildered look, but composed himself enough to call out, "Coon, I'm tired of this! You have twenty-four hours to meet my demands or the hostage... the hostage dies, you hear?"
The look on The Coon's face was more than worth the indirect death threat. "What the fuck? You don't kill people, Chaos."
"Now end the call," Kenny whispered. "Make him sweat a little."
"Things have changed, hero." Chaos let out an evil laugh and gathered sparks in the palm of his hand. He sent the lightning straight into the screen, causing the whole thing to start short-circuiting. The Coon's angry face lingered for a moment, just long enough for Chaos to grin and give a snappy, "Time's tickin'!" before the screen finally died and went black. 
The room was silent for a long moment, save for the crackle of lingering electricity in the air, but it was quickly broken by the sound of Chaos groaning loudly into his hands, all of his bravado disappearing. "Oh god, why'd I have to go and do that for? That's gonna cost a fortune to replace!"
"On the bright side, you looked really cool doing it." Kenny said, grinning when Chaos lifted his head up to look at him. "What? I'm a guy who can appreciate good theatrics."
"Yeah, I guessed that when you didn't freak out after I threatened your life." Chaos said, tilting his head like he was trying to see him in a different light. "Don't you... want to live?"
"Well obviously." Kenny said, shrugging his shoulders. "But this is clearly your first time taking a hostage, so we might as well do it right."
"How do you know this is my first time?" Chaos asked, his cheeks huffing out indignantly. 
Kenny lifted a leg in the air, a loose piece of rope dangling from his shoe. "This right here. You secured my hands, but left my feet loose enough for me to wriggle them free. You didn't notice because you were too busy with Raccoon Boy."
Chaos flushed and crossed his arms defensively over his chest. "W-Well it's not like you would've gotten very far! My secret base is rigged with booby traps, you would've been a goner if you left this room."
"Is that right?"
"Of course!" He said, his cheeks turning pink as he puffed his chest out proudly. "I might've let you trick me into ruining my monitor--"
"Hey you did that all on your own!"
He pursed his lips but powered on. "--but that doesn't mean you have any power here. I'm a dangerous man, you know. You're stuck here until I say you can leave."
Kenny considered this, tapping his foot against the floor as he took in the villain in front of him. Chaos had some wickedly strong powers, and even with his legs free he really wouldn't be going anywhere without the use of his hands. The only real option  he had was waiting for that tool, The Coon, to come rescue him, and that didn't sound appealing at all. He leaned back in his chair and let out a deep sigh. "Well since I'm not going anywhere, I should probably introduce myself to my host. Hi, I'm Kenny."
"Nice to meet you, I'm Bu-- um, I mean, I'm Professor Chaos!" He said, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink at his almost slip-up. He cleared his throat and tried to look serious as he continued. "And wherever I go, destruction's sure to follow. So you'd be smart to get on my good side, Kenny." 
A shock went through his spine at the sound of his name, and Kenny was sure it had nothing to do with the villain's electrical powers. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling, but he could already feel his lips curving up in anticipation. He'd always been a sucker for trouble, and it looked like Chaos was just the right combination of danger and adorable awkwardness that would make all of this worth his while.
No matter how this went down, he had a feeling this was only the first of many encounters between him and Professor Chaos.
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years
Text
Imagine...Jensen’s 43rd Birthday
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Pairing: Jensen x reader
A/N: Happiest of birthdays to our always lovable Jensen!
_________
“Oh my 43 years young birthday boy,” you said as Jensen came downstairs from the house you were renting in Canada, a smirk on his face. “How was the bath?”
“You tell me,” he said, walking over and smushing your cheeks. 
“Oh, your skin’s so soft,” you said, rubbing his arms. “Did you use the bath bomb?”
“Just the body wash but that stuff was nice. I think I’ll save the bath bomb for a tub big enough for us both,” he said. 
“I wish we were home for your birthday. Most of your real presents are there,” you said.
“I can’t wait to use that electric leaf-blower,” he said with a smile.
“You got way too excited over your new air compressor,” you said.
“Hey I gotta take care of Baby all good and proper now,” he said with a laugh. “I very much am happy with the socks and undies and care package basket you made up. You know a quarantine birthday is not as bad as it sounds.”
“I already had my quarantine birthday. You’re one of the last ones to the party bud,” you said, giving him a kiss. “I do have one last present for you.”
“Is it cake?” he asked. 
“Well yes but you have another present,” you said. “Want it now or later?”
He made grabby hands and you laughed, heading into the dining room and picking up the wrapped package. You bit your bottom lip as you brought it back into the kitchen, handing it over to him. He shook it gently and cooked his head.
“Is it a book?” he asked, tearing off the wrapping. “Journal?”
You said nothing as he tore off the rest of the paper and turned the thick bound book to the front. He stared at the cover for a moment and opened to the table of contents, reading through it a few times.
“What...what is this?”
“This is your first birthday without Supernatural going on in a really, really long time. I know you miss the stories and what the Winchesters get up to. So I put a few stories, little episodes in you know, screenplay format, and I put them in a book for you. Some take place in like season one or four. There’s solo hunts and the boys together and stuff that wouldn’t make it onto cable TV and I even did a few post finale episode things cause I know you’re...maybe looking for...ideas...you’re not mad, are you?”
“How do you keep one upping yourself?” he said, smiling when he looked over to you. “This is the coolest...I love this. I love it so much.”
“You haven’t even read it. It could be shit.”
“It ain’t shit. This is awesome. This is so fucking awesome. I can’t wait to read this whole thing. How many stories are there?”
“Ten. I have...more...they didn’t make it into the book.”
“I love this. My boy Dean really love this,” he said, crossing his legs in his seat and turning a page. 
“Didn’t you want cake?” you asked.
“I want my Winchesters,” he said, raising his head. “Hey can, can we have cake and I read out Dean’s parts like I used to?”
“I would love to,” you said. You went to the other end of the island and dragged over the cake you’d made earlier but were too stuffed from dinner to eat. “Do you think Jared would want a copy?”
“Jared, Mish, Al Cal. You gotta let Rich get his hands on this. He would-”
“Babe. Calm down. Save the reunion for after you get done being a superhero?”
“Got a little excited,” he said, skimming through the table of contents again. “Which one is your favorite?”
“Want to start from the top? I have a feeling once you read Take Two you’re not going to want to talk about anything else,” you said, cutting him off a piece of cake.
“Take Two is a post series finale story,” he said, looking up through his eyelashes.
“Yes it is. Come on, pre-season one Dean deserves some time to shine,” you said.
“You have a pre-season story?” he said. 
“That one is Lonestar.”
“Okay,” he said as you slid over the cake to him and cut off a piece for yourself. “So that’s what PS1 means.”
“Mhm,” you said, taking a bite of cake. “Now scarf down that cake and we will play with your new present very, very soon. Deal?”
“You’re on sweetheart. Thank you so much,” he said as he gave you a side hug.
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you like it. Do Dean voice for me later?” you asked.
“Oh Dean’s hanging out with us tonight. Count on it. Thank you for the birthday present. I love it.”
“Anytime Jens.”
________
325 notes · View notes
alphadaddyderek · 3 years
Text
Dude, just get out! (we both live here dumbass!) (sterek fic, smut, college au)
Stiles was initially excited to go to college. The freedom aspect of it in particular is what Stiles was the most excited about. Don’t get him wrong, he loves his dad, of course, he does. He didn’t mind living with him, he liked seeing him on a daily basis. He’s all Stiles has. Well, Stiles has Scott, but Scott is attending university in Arizona of all places. Meanwhile, Stiles is going to NYU, so, there’s not a lot of opportunities to see Scott or his father in person.
Not to fret though! Stiles was ready like Freddy to meet new people and, hopefully, make new friends along the way. That’s what college is all about. Supposedly, Stiles wouldn’t know but if all the movies are to be believed then that’s what college is all about.
He and his dad spent days driving up to NYU and then spent hours moving Stiles’ belongings into his off-campus apartment and unpacking. Stiles got a full-ride —thank god— so there’s extra money for him to be able to live in an actual, nice apartment instead of the dorms. His roommate was nowhere to be seen at the time, but that was fine with Stiles. He’d have plenty of opportunities to get to know him. Stiles’ dad left to stay in a hotel for the night because there was no way he was starting the trek back to Beacon Hills this late in the day. So, Stiles was left to his own devices in his new apartment.
Well, he was for about twenty minutes, then his roommate came back and...he’s kind of a dick.
He has a resting bitch face and he hardly likes to talk. Stiles doesn’t know if it’s because the guy doesn’t like him or if he’s just the quiet type. He’s starting to think that the guy doesn’t like him because every time Stiles starts talking he looks annoyed. The dick’s name is Derek and coincidentally, he also goes to NYU. He did tell Stiles his major, but wouldn’t tell Stiles what his favorite color was, which is just plain rude.
Anyway, Stiles isn’t going to let this Debbie downer ruin his college experience, no way!
Stiles decides the best thing to do is to just ignore him. Which is hard to do because the guy takes up so much space, like, he’s actually huge. And he always seems to be in the apartment when Stiles comes back from classes. Which is weird because, dude, don’t you have classes to go to? Nonetheless, he’s always there which means Stiles has to see him all the time and Derek can continue being an asswipe for no reason.
For example, Stiles sometimes forgets to wash the dishes —sue him!— and Derek will chew him out for it. Stiles didn’t know Derek was such a neat freak, but now that he knows he’ll leave more things laying around because Stiles can also be a dick when he wants to be. Maybe Derek should learn to be more personable, then Stiles wouldn’t have to go out of his character by doing such petty things. They’ve only been living together for about a week and a half and there’s already a turf battle going on. Stiles isn’t sure who’s going to win this battle, however, the sight of Derek tripping over one of Stiles’ shoes and the subsequent curse that flies out of his mouth makes Stiles not even care in the end.
--------------
After about a month, it's way more than just a battle. The turf battle has evolved into a war and now, no one is safe.
Derek continues being yucky and Stiles continues to do things to intentionally annoy him, except, now Derek is doing things to annoy Stiles. Like, eating all of Stiles’ Pop-Tarts or, and this is a cruel one, flushing the toilet while Stiles is in the shower. Unfortunately for Stiles, Derek buys gross ass healthy food for himself, and Stiles couldn’t choke down that food to save his life. So, what can one do to even the playing field?
Derek is sitting on the couch in the living room, watching some show about underwater caves. Stiles normally wouldn’t stick around because, despite what Derek might think, Stiles really doesn’t enjoy being talked down to by an abnormally grumpy man. This time though, Stiles sits down beside him. He can see Derek watching him from the corner of his eye, probably waiting to see what Stiles is going to do. Stiles likes to instill fear in Derek. Normally he acts like Stiles is nothing more than a bug he wants to squish under his overly expensive boot, but now? He’s worried. He should be. Stiles is going to pull out his ultimate weapon.
“So, whatcha watchin’?” Stiles asks, plastering a smile onto his face.
Derek gives him a suspicious look. “Why do you want to know?”
Stiles shrugs, smile still present. “I’m curious. This show seems interesting.”
Derek gives him an incredulous eyebrow raise, which is super insulting. Derek thinks all Stiles watches is Harry Potter, Star Wars, and superhero movies. Which is just wrong. But that’s okay. Stiles thinks all Derek watches are documentaries about how to be a functioning human in society, which, newsflash Derek, still needs working on.
A few minutes go by before Stiles decides to speak again. “So, you haven’t told me about your family.”
“That’s intentional.”
Stiles laughs. Derek thinks he can scare Stiles into leaving him alone. Unfortunately for Derek, Stiles has zero self-preservation skills.
“Come on Derek. We’re roommates. Don’t you want us to get along?”
Derek didn’t dignify that with a response —rude!— so Stiles speaks again.
“My dad is the sheriff of my hometown. Been that way for as long as I can remember. My best friend, his name is Scott, wants to be a vet. He goes to The University of Arizona. After that he’s not sure where he’ll go to get his DVM but he’s open to anything.”
Derek turns the volume up on the tv and Stiles bites his lip to stifle his laughter.
Ah, Derek. That won’t help.
“At first I was kinda skeptical about Scott becoming a vet. I mean, he’s a puppy himself, and I love him to death, but sometimes he’s ditzy. He’s a ditzy brunette. But after working at Deaton’s, Deaton is the town vet, for years he’s proved me wrong,” Stiles risks a glance at Derek and he’s scowling so hard Stiles is kind of afraid it’ll get stuck that way forever. “He and his girlfriend, Allison, are kind of having issues with long-distance but they’re high school sweethearts so I’m confident that they’ll work through it. They’re so cute together that it’s actually kinda nauseating. Like, sometimes their sappiness makes me sick to my stomach. I wonder when they’ll get ma-”
Derek abruptly stands up and walks out the room, slamming and locking his bedroom door, as if Stiles is the boogeyman who he’s trying to keep out.
Stiles snickers and grabs the remote to change the channel. Derek gets annoyed when Stiles talks, well, he shouldn’t have started this war then (it doesn’t matter that technically Stiles started it). Stiles has weaponized his ability to talk people’s ears off. So, Derek better watch out.
Hopefully, Derek won’t murder Stiles in his sleep.
--------------
Okay, so, Stiles thinks maybe this whole turf war thing is getting out of hand.
It’s been a total of 3 and a half months since they’ve been living together and Derek and Stiles are on edge around each other 24/7. Stiles has to shower around eleven o’clock at night so that Derek won’t burn him alive by flushing the toilet. Derek doesn’t have access to Stiles’ snacks anymore because Stiles hid them in the back of his closet. Derek stays in his room all day just so that Stiles won't have any opportunities to talk to him. They’re at an impasse, but Stiles has a feeling that the worst has yet to come.
A really bad feeling.
Stiles comes back from a particularly grueling day of classes to see Derek sitting on the couch...and he’s smirking.
That doesn’t bode well for Stiles.
“Hello, Stiles.”
“Uh, hey dude. Why do you look like a supervillain?”
“‘Cause I have a surprise for you.”
Yeah, that definitely didn’t sound good.
“Actually, I am a-okay. I really don’t need the surprise. I appreciate it though,” Stiles tries to make his way towards his room but Derek keeps talking.
“I normally don’t snoop through people’s things, it’s really not in my character, but after you left to go out last night, I heard some weird noises coming from your room. I was trying to ignore it at first, but after a while I went to see what it was. I was going to mention it this morning but you woke up before I did and by the time I had woken up you were already in class.”
Stiles had stopped in his tracks but he still hasn’t turned around to face Derek, because if Derek is going where Stiles thinks he’s going, Stiles is going to need to be able to book it into his bedroom as soon as possible.
Derek didn’t seem too perturbed by Stiles’ silence since he continues with his story. “Imagine my surprise when I found out that it was your laptop making that noise. Now, I wasn’t surprised by the fact that porn was playing, but what I was surprised at-”
Oh god.
“-was that the video you were watching was titled ‘bear fucks twink with huge cock’. And now I can’t help but question your hatred towards me.”
Stiles’ face is burning. He’s never been so embarrassed in his life, which is really a great feat because Stiles doesn’t get embarrassed by much. It’s not that Stiles didn’t notice Derek was hot, like, come on now, Derek is gorgeous. He’s not that much taller than Stiles but the size of his biceps? They’re easily the size of Stiles’ thigh. Derek is bigger than Stiles in every aspect.
Well, he’s not sure about every aspect. Stiles has never seen Derek’s dick outright, but he’s seen him wear sweatpants, and ooh boy, that bulge gives Stiles the impression that Derek is hung like a horse.
Stiles still hates Derek because Derek still has his asshole-ish ways. Case in point: right the fuck now. But, you can hate someone and still want to fuck them, right? Hate sex exists.
Derek is patiently waiting for Stiles to respond, and Stiles has never been good at staying silent, so it’s only a matter of time.
Stiles finally turns around to face Derek and clears his throat. “That- that means nothing. People watch shit like that all the time. Plus, you hardly qualify as a bear.”
It’s a weak excuse but, hey, Stiles is grasping at straws here.
Derek tilts his head to the side in agreement. “True, but if that was the case, why do you seem so nervous?”
Stiles can’t think of a reasonable response in time and Derek knows it.
Derek smirks again and Stiles really wants to knee him in the dick.
“Do you wanna fuck me?”
Stiles narrows his eyes at Derek. What the fuck is his endgame here? Why is he being such a dick?
Oh yeah, because Derek is a fucking asshole.
“Fine,” Stiles says through gritted teeth. “I find you attractive. I watch porn about big, hairy men fucking twinks because I want you to fuck me. Are you happy now? Jackass.”
Stiles storms into his room and slams the door. That’s a perfect example of why people can’t be pretty and nice. It’s genetically impossible.
Stiles lets out a sigh and dumps his backpack on his bed before stripping out of his clothes and getting into the shower. He stands under the spray for ten minutes, just praying to the cosmic gods out there that a black hole will appear and suck the whole human race into nothingness. After waiting for a few more minutes, and his prayers going unanswered, he washes himself then gets out to dry off. He wraps the towel around his waist and opens the door to find Derek standing outside his bathroom door. He shrieks (a very manly shriek by the way) and covers his chest with his arms, not that that’ll hide much.
“Derek, what the fuck are you doing?”
Derek’s eyes do the slowest sweep in fucking existence down Stiles’ body and Stiles feels his cheeks flush. Ugh, why are the cutest guys always assholes?
“I came to apologize. I was being a dick-”
“What else is new?” Stiles interrupts. Stiles is rewarded with another smirk.
“-and I took it too far. I’m sorry I embarrassed you.”
Stiles looks at Derek for a second. They’ve never apologized to each other when they did shit, and even though Stiles didn’t take it as far as Derek did, Stiles can’t stand here and act like he wasn’t also an asshole.
Stiles sighs. “I’m sorry too. I was also kind of a dick. Not as much as you, but still.”
Derek laughs a little, and Jesus H. Christ, how is a laugh sexy? “Apology accepted.”
Stiles holds his hand out for a handshake. Derek puts his hand in Stiles’ and they shake on their newfound not-friendship-but-also-maybe-not-complete-dicks-to-each-other-ship.
“So,” Derek starts after they drop their hands. “wanna have sex?”
Stiles might’ve actually choked on his own fucking spit, because what?
“What?”
“I asked if you wanted to have sex.”
“Where is this even coming from? You hate my guts. Every time I talk you look like you’re going in for a root canal.”
Stiles is so confused, he’s also getting hornier by the minute, but right now, the confusion is outweighing the horniness.
“I don’t hate you. Yeah you talk a lot, and it was so annoying at first, sometimes it still is, but I got used to your incessant chatter.”
Stiles knows he looks dumb, his mouth is gaping and everything. “I think maybe there was something in the water because I must be high. We’ve lived together for over 3 months and you’re telling me that you actually want to have sex with me?”
Derek shrugs. “Yeah. Just because you can be kinda annoying that doesn’t mean you’re not cute. Plus, people have sex all the time, that doesn’t mean we have to, like, date or whatever.”
Stiles rolls his eyes. Derek’s so romantic, how has Stiles been able to resist jumping his bones for this long?
“You just embarrassed the hell out of me, why would I ever want to have sex with you?” Never mind the fact that Stiles definitely does want to have sex with him.
“Maybe you don’t. If not, then fine. We can just go back to how things were. If you do, then we’ll have a great time.”
Stiles is still struggling to wrap his mind around all of this. Derek wants to have sex with him? In what universe does that make sense?
Apparently in this one.
Stiles does this sort of shrug that basically portrays well, what the fuck? Okay then. “Okay. I guess this is happening then.”
Derek smirks for like the fiftieth time in thirty seconds and if Stiles was a stronger man he definitely would’ve kneed Derek in the dick, but clearly, Stiles is weak.
Very, very weak.
“My room or yours?” Derek asks.
“Mine. Since it’s right there,” Stiles points behind Derek and, lo and behold, there’s Stiles’ bed.
Grabbing Stiles’ hand in a surprisingly gentle gesture, Derek walks the three feet from the bathroom to the bed to lay Stiles down.
Derek gets on top of the bed and is sitting on his knees by Stiles’ feet. He pulls his shirt off like he’s in Magic Mike or something before throwing it onto the floor without a care in the world. Jesus, it’s like his muscles have muscles. Stiles starts feeling a little insecure about his body. He’s got muscles, but, he’s not, like, ripped like Derek is. Stiles likes to think he has somewhat of a swimmer’s body.
Looming over him like a fucking creeper, Derek stares down at Stiles. “You know, you’re very pretty.”
Stiles refuses to admit that he blushes at that because he’s not pretty. If anything he’s handsome, some may even say gorgeous.
“Can you just get on with it?” Stiles throwing a scowl in Derek’s direction.
“Bossy. I kinda like that,” he strips his sweatpants off and throws them down too. Now he’s only in a pair of gray boxer briefs and, god, Stiles wants to suck his dick so badly. Which is weird because he’s really not all that experienced with blowjobs, he’s given maybe two blowjobs in his life. Whatever, Derek has a great dick okay?
Derek tugs at the towel around Stiles’ waist. “Is this okay?”
Stiles nods and then the towel is gone, and Stiles is laid bare for Derek to gaze at his leisure. And boy does Derek gaze. He does another slow sweep down Stiles’ body, except this time it’s even more intense because now Stiles is naked.
“You’re not a virgin right?” Derek asks while rummaging through Stiles’ bedside drawer and pulling out the lube. First of all, it’s rude to go through people’s stuff! Second of all, how the hell did Derek know his lube was there? Although, where else would lube be?
“Nope. There will be no deflowering of the Stiles today. Sorry to disappoint.”
Derek shrugs before popping open the lube. “I’m not one of those weirdos who pops a boner at the thought of popping someone’s cherry.”
Stiles chuckles, like actually chuckles. Who knew Derek was even capable of being funny?
Stiles pulls his legs up and hooks his hands behind his knees. The position exposes Stiles’ hole to the extreme and it makes Stiles blush. Just because he’s not a virgin doesn’t mean that he doesn’t get nervous or embarrassed during sex.
Derek knee-walks closer to Stiles and squirts some lube onto his fingers. He puts one hand on Stiles’ right thigh while the other one gently and slowly breaches his entrance. Fuck, his fingers are thick. Thicker than Stiles’ that’s for sure. Stiles definitely isn’t shy about fingering. He fingers himself all the time, but it’s been a while since someone else’s fingers were up there. Stiles is nervous and excited about it all.
Derek doesn’t spend too much time with the one finger, quickly adding a second one and that’s when it starts feeling good. Derek’s fingers are about an inch away from his prostate and Stiles is about to curse him out until Derek presses both fingers against his prostate and Stiles has to bite his lip to stop the loud ass moan that almost escaped his mouth. Judging by the look on Derek’s face, he knows he touched Stiles’ prostate, and being the asshole that he is, he has a cocky smile on his face.
After scissoring those two fingers inside Stiles for a few minutes, Derek adds a third finger. The stretch is definitely there, but hey, Stiles likes a little pain with sex. He can be kinky sometimes.
“Okay. I’m ready, come on,” Stiles says. He was starting to get impatient. He just wants to get dicked down already, damn.
Derek gently removes his fingers and gets off the bed to pick up his sweatpants. He reaches into the pocket and retrieves a condom out. Stiles’ mouth drops.
“So you just knew I’d have sex with you?”
“I didn’t know. I just hoped.”
That smarmy little bastard.
Derek gets back in bed and, finally, removes his briefs and...
Holy mother of god.
Well, maybe not the mother of god. That’s blasphemous as fuck. But! The sentiment is the same because wow. Stiles is glad he didn’t knee him in the dick because that dick is too gorgeous to cause serious injury to. He’s not like porn star big, but it is big and long too. And it’s uncut, which Stiles has a weird sort of kink about. He loves uncut cocks. Yeah, that’s a good-looking cock right there.
Derek unwraps the condom and rolls it onto his cock. He then grabs the bottle of lube that he placed on the bed and squirts more out before slathering a generous amount onto said cock. He makes Stiles move his hands before replacing them with one of his own, the other is at the base of his cock, lining it up to Stiles’ hole.
“You ready baby?” Derek asks.
“Call me baby again and I’ll dropkick you in the throa- oh fuck.”
Of course, Derek chose when Stiles was mid-threat to start pushing his cock inside. Geez, that is seriously a big cock, even the fingering didn’t make it burn any less. Derek gently pushes his cock in deeper before pulling it out, then he pushes it in a little deeper than he did at first before pulling it back out again. He repeats that until his cock is seated all the way inside, his balls to Stiles’ ass. Then he stops and waits. There’s sweat gathering above Derek’s eyebrow and some is even rolling down his temple. Needless to say, Derek isn’t as unaffected as he’s trying to be. Which makes Stiles feel kind of great actually.
“Okay, you can move now,” Stiles informs Derek. And when Stiles says Derek goes to town, he really means that.
Derek puts his other hand behind Stiles’ left knee and pulls out all the way, not even the tip is inside, before thrusting back in. Hard.
Stiles’ breath gets forced out of him at the movement. This truly is hate sex, kinda. Derek said he didn’t hate Stiles, but he certainly doesn’t like him all that much. At least, not yet. Who knows what will stem from this. That’s something to think about when Derek isn’t pounding him into the mattress.
Derek delivers a thrust that nails Stiles’ prostate dead on and Stiles makes this super embarrassing sound, like a high-pitched keen. He knows he’s not going to live that down after this.
After that, Derek is consistent with the hard abuse on Stiles’ prostate, and Stiles is getting close to orgasm embarrassingly fast. He isn’t too sure he’ll be able to last much longer. Although, Derek doesn’t seem like he’s going to be able to either. If the grunts and groans he’s letting out are anything to go by.
“Unh, fuck. Derek-!”
“Yeah, you’re gonna come?”
Stiles frantically nods his head and grabs his own cock to start stroking himself. Derek thrusts harder if that’s even possible, and within a few seconds, Stiles is coming all over his stomach.
“Fuck, Stiles,” Derek groans and thrusts one, two, three more times before stopping with a deep, guttural moan. He almost sounds like an actual bear and Stiles can’t help the giggle that escapes him.
Derek gives him a weird look but his lip quirks up in a maybe sort of smile. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh nothing,” Stiles gives him a shit-eating grin.
And since it’s already been established that Derek is an asshole, he grinds and his cock brushes against Stiles’ oversensitive prostate causing Stiles’ whole body to convulse. He slaps Derek’s arm.
Derek pulls out and lets go of Stiles’ legs. They’re sore from being in the same position for so long but Stiles can’t even care. He’s sated and all he wants to do now is take a nap. Stiles stretches his whole body like a cat while Derek disposes of the condom.
“Okay, that was fun. If you want to annoy me, I’ll be in my room.” And with that, Derek walks out of Stiles’ room to go to his own.
Derek was definitely a dick, but Stiles could deal with him. Especially if they continue to fuck like that.
Holy (not) mother of god indeed.
139 notes · View notes
supercorpkid · 3 years
Text
Mind Controlled – The Series.
Part 2 – Pull the trigger.
Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Alex Danvers x Niece!Reader, Lex Luthor x Niece!Reader.
Word count: 2300.
Warning: Injuries, violence, pain, angst.
Previously on the series - part 1
You land on the same room, on the same building, waiting for Lex's voice to come out of the speaker with further instructions. You’re ready to do whatever he asks from you.
“You’re back, my bösewicht.” You hear his voice sometime later. “I presume you have done a good job leaving your mothers wrecked?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Such an obedient little monster. A Super with a Luthor’s brain. Why has no one thought about this before? Oh yes, I have. But they called me a mad man for it, and yet here you are.” And there you are. Standing still, staring at a wall, waiting for more orders. “In that stupid outfit, dear Lord, why would anyone be dressed in those stupid clothes?”
You look down on your super suit. You do look stupid. This stupid skirt, horrible boots, long sleeve shirt so tight if you were human, it would mark your skin. It makes you so sick you want to rip it off of your body.
“Nevertheless, with you playing pet for me, I can do whatever I want even still in jail.” The static comes again, but Lex doesn’t stop talking. “I should’ve known Lena would be greedy and want a smart and powerful kid. But I hadn’t had confirmation, that was until mother came here to visit and told me all about you. So impressed with her little granddaughter.” He lets out a chuckle. “I can’t imagine how infuriated she’ll be once she finds out it was her, who gave me the idea to mind control you.”
You think about Lillian, and how impressed she is with you. You give yourself a cocky smile. She should be impressed, you are impressive.
“Kryptonians might have strong minds, but Luthors? We’re unfortunately just humans. So my bright sister didn’t think that having a powerful kryptonian daughter with a susceptible mind wasn’t a good idea?” He scoffs. "Oh, Lena. You may try, but you will never be smart like me.”
There’s a loud breathing sound.
“That’s enough of chatting. I have better things for you to do, my bösewicht. You’ll break me out of jail when it’s time, but first-” There’s a wicked little pause. “Let’s destroy the Super name.”
Your body is suddenly filled with rage and wrath. You want to destroy everything. You want to drop a bomb in everyone’s head. You want to make them suffer.
“That’s it. Use your rage. Destroy National City, scare them, let them see you in your worst form. Let them fear the Supers, and then, come for me.”
“Yes, sir.”
You fly off the window, looking for a place to start. You want to cause damage, you want them to be scared of you, whoever they may be.
You start off by using your heat vision to draw the ‘House of El’ symbol in the middle of the park, so they know who’s responsible for all that it is coming their way. You watch the grass burning, the form coming along and your heart beats fast, enthusiastic.
You didn’t even start the destruction part yet, and this already feels fulfilling. You know exactly where to go next.
You fly to your training center and you look down. This stupid-ass place gives you no good memories at all. You got beat up, got yelled at, got annoyed every time your powers didn’t work like they were supposed to, got angry at people looking at you thinking you weren’t good enough. You remember their disapproving looks; you remember the tiniest of sighs you’ve heard.
Fuck them all.
Your heat vision hits the ground, and your heart gets heavy, but your powers never stop. You can almost taste the feeling of being a disappointment in your mouth. And it gets you incredibly proud of yourself. You want to disappoint them. Them being proud of you means nothing at all.
You look down on the entire place up in flames. This is the right thing. Destroying this place will send them a message. You are not their little pet anymore. They can’t keep you under a leash, pretending you’re not powerful and fucking special. You’re so fucking special, even Lex wants your powers.
It’s not long until Supergirl flies in front of you. You smirk at her looking down. There’s a powerful feeling cursing through your veins. You know she can see it too. Your hair blowing in the wind, your stupid super suit moving almost in slow motion, your eyes burning of rage with little flames dancing in the dark of your enlarged pupils.
“I believe you owe me an apology.” It’s the first thing you say, after unclenching your jaw. “You called me weak.” You spit, disgusted. “You were mistaken.”
“Deeply.” Kara agrees looking down, and you notice the cars from the DEO stopping, people getting out of them in desperation, trying to put out the fire. That makes you so happy. She looks back at you. “Is this what this whole thing is about? You’re trying to prove to me you’re strong, after all this time?”
“Trying?” You scoff, then your face goes back to a frown. “I don’t need to prove myself. Especially not to someone who uses her powers to stop bank robberies instead of having the world under her firm grip.”
“I know you’re not my daughter.” Kara comes a little bit closer; you don’t move. You’re not scared of her, but she should be scared of you. “Are you bizarro?”
“You’re too far consumed in this battle of ego to see right in front of you.” You tilt your head, letting a creepy smile dangle on your lips. “Don’t you recognize your little one, mommy?”
“If that’s the case, then I have to stop you either way, little one.” Kara does her whole superhero pose and you laugh at her.
“You can’t. You don’t have the stomach.” You look down to the ground and you see Lena there. “I see, you won’t be the one doing it. Clean hands, right? Let the Luthor hurt the Kryptonian. It’s the natural order of things.”
“I’m sorry, my love. It has to be done.” Supergirl flies towards you in one motion. You still try to fly away, but she is a little faster, so she grabs you easily. You push her, punch her, you even pull her hair, but she doesn’t let go.
She lands on the floor with you wrapped in her arms, and Lena comes closer. Kryptonite gun in hand. Soon, you’re surrounded by agents with their own guns. Supergirl lets you go, flying above you, but not leaving, in case you decide to make a run for it.
You look at Lena. Gun in hand. You listen to her heartbeat going crazy and you smile at her.
Let’s play, mom.
“Do it.” You dare. “I want to see you pull that trigger. I want to see you hurt your own daughter with Kryptonite.”
“I don’t want to do this, baby.” Lena assures you, taking a small step towards you. “I promise you, I’ll figure out what’s going on with you. You just have to come with me.”
“You’ve always known, haven’t you?” You lock eyes with watery green eyes behind the gun. “You’ve always known someday the Luthor genes would shine through. Because no matter how good the Super gene is, the Luthor one is worse. So, so bad. Rotten to the core. You’ve always known I wouldn’t be able to resist.”
“I’ve told you before. We are not Luthors. We are Luthor-Danvers, and that means something. Please, stand down. Let me look at you.”
“Tell me to stand down one more time and I’ll throw-” You look at one guy on your left and point at him. “That guy into space.”
“Baby.” It’s Lena’s last try, you can see it in her face. You can see the way her finger presses lightly at the trigger. You also hear how that makes everyone else do the exact same movement.
“I’m not going to run away. But I won’t surrender, either.” You defy her. “If you want me to go with you, then you have to do it. You have to pull the trigger and you have to live with the guilt all your life.”
“I’m sorry it has come to this, baby.” But her face doesn’t hold much sentiment, nor does she lower her weapon. “But you know I have to do this. You can’t go on pulling stunts like this. You can’t keep thinking there are no consequences to your actions.”
“You are not sorry.” You smirk. “Don’t try to play me for a fool, Lena.” It’s the way her name leaves your mouth that makes her flinch. “I know you’re dying to pull that trigger and be the one who tamed a Kryptonian once again. It’s what all Luthors want in the end.”
She pulls the trigger, making you fall on the floor in pain, after a blast of kryptonite hits your chest.
“You should be so satisfied now.” You whimper. Kryptonite filling your body. “You’ve used kryptonite on your wife, and now on your daughter. It’s a full circle, isn’t it?” You spit out your words.
Lena puts you in handcuffs that strip you off of your powers, and strokes your cheeks gently. Eyes full of tears and instant regret.
“I’m bringing you back, my baby. I promise you.” She whispers delicately, like she’s not even talking to you anymore, but maybe to the memory she has of you.
But the two agents that come from behind you don’t pick you up delicately. In fact, they seem very pissed at you, and you’re shoved into the back of a van where Alex is.
“Aunt Alex.” You start with your bitchy tone and Alex breathes deep.
“Listen kiddo, I’m not in the mood.” She shakes her head, upset. “You just caused us millions of dollars in damages, Kara is a wreck, and don’t even get me started on Lena.” Alex raises her eyes from her tablet. “I know you’re not yourself, that’s why I don’t give a fuck about this. You start talking? That gag goes in your mouth in a second. Don’t think you can play me like you did with your moms.”
“I think the story would be really different if Lena hadn’t cuffed me and stripped me off of my powers.” You raise an eyebrow, not breaking eye contact. “You’re scared of me too.”
“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?” Alex smiles unbothered. “I’ve dealt with things much worse, and much scarier than you and your babyface.” She grabs the gag and looks at you. “Now shut it, or I’ll make you.”
You decide to shut up. Your quarrel isn’t with Alex and the last thing you want it’s to be shut up. The best course of action is going willingly, and working something up in the DEO, because you know for sure there is where they’re taking you.
It’s Alex who shoves you inside of a cell, when you get there. Locks the glass door, and turns on some red sun lamps. You bite your mouth at the idea of it. They are very scared of you; they keep finding ways to strip you off of your powers.
It takes a few minutes until you hear talking on the other side of the glass. You can’t see them, or hear them well enough, but there’s one voice that stands out. You bitch grin to yourself.
Let’s play, momma.
"Mommy” You use your best and sweetest voice. Kara comes closer to the glass cell, and you stare at her from the other side. You want to destroy this place brick by brick until there’s nothing left, but you know if you’re aggressive about it, they won’t let you out. “Please, let me out. Can you open the door, please?"
"Kid, I'm sorry but we have to understand what's-" Kara starts, but you interrupt her.
"I'm begging you, please, please mommy." You drop on your knees. Tears falling from your eyes, and that act allures a crowd. Lena and Alex soon join Kara on the other side.
"Baby, I'm sorry." Kara gasps, and you watch Lena’s hand squeezing her shoulder reassuring. “You know I want to-”
"You said you would protect me. This isn't protection.” Your tears stop falling, you’re angry again. The act isn’t working. You clench your fist, using all the strength you have, trying to focus so the anger doesn’t consume you. You feel the palms of your hands burning, with nails digging into your flesh. “Please, this isn’t fair. Mom, please, do something.”
"I swear this is for your own good." Lena takes a deep breath, not buying into what you’re saying. Great. You’re done faking either way.
“FUCK YOU! LET ME OUT OF THIS CELL!” You bang on the cell, screaming as loud as you can. You see your blood leaving hand-shaped marks on the glass. Your scream is loud, but the banging is louder.
“Baby, please, you have to calm down.” You hear Kara’s voice trying to sooth you. It gets you angrier.
"FUCK YOU TOO! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT NOW!" They look at the blood splashed onto the glass. Your face is burning red, and Kara flinches at the sight of you. Lena doesn't, so you know your best shot is with your momma. "Kara, I swear if you don't open this cell right now, I will hate you until the day I die."
“That’s enough.” You hear Alex’s voice and the glass turns black. You can’t see them on the outside, and you know they can’t see inside either. You can’t hear their voices, so you suspect they’re not listening to your unrelenting yell anymore.
Fuck. You need a new escape plan.
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romiantic · 3 years
Note
this is me, slipping into your asks from your friends blog! idk if you saw the request but i’d love a bokuto fic where his s/o is having a rough natural hair day, i am currently ... struggling lol. thank you angel!!!
𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭
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reading: black!fem!reader
genre: fluff
word count: 1.6k
request: this is me, slipping into your asks from your friends blog! idk if you saw the request but i’d love a bokuto fic where his s/o is having a rough natural hair day, i am currently ... struggling lol. thank you angel!!!
a/n: I’m am SOOOO sorry for the wait sis 😭 but I really do hope you enjoy
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Another one. For the past two hours, you’ve managed to break three scrunchies and your rat tail comb. You groaned in huge frustration, trying to figure out why your hair isn’t working out for you. “What the fuck?! Work with me, DAMN!” You harshly combed out your hair and SNAP! You brought back down the wide tooth and saw the comb snapped in half. In fury, you threw the comb across the room.
“This thing acting like I won’t shave it off and call it a day.” You complained out loud while pulling on your hair and trying to figure out what to do.
“Babyyy! Y/N!” What a relief! Your handsome, six foot two, volleyball playing boyfriend came into your shared home, happy to be home with his beautiful girlfriend. Typically you would yell back hello if you were busy or come into his large body and give him a tight hug as he tells you how his day went and give you multiple forehead kisses.
But today you didn’t. You haven’t left your vanity and glued yourself to your seat as out loudly cursed your hair. Seeing that you didn’t welcome him home, he looked around the house to see where you were until he met a frustrated you pulling at your hair. Bokuto was actually used to your bad hair days so he knew how to approach you whenever your hair didn’t feel like cooperating.
He put his bag down next to the couch and quietly crept into your shared bedroom. Instead of greeting you with loudness, he wanted to comfort you and distract you from the thing that was stressing you the most. He walked behind you and snaked his arm around your waist, giving you a soft hug as he softly said, “Hello y/n, did you miss me?”
You got scared at his touch but calmed down at the hearing of his soft voice talking to you. You slightly turned to face your boyfriend and smiled at his golden eyes trying to calm you down. You took a breather from all the stress and answered, “Of course Kotaro, why wouldn’t I miss you? You’ve been gone all day.”
“You seemed frustrated when I came and you didn’t say hello.” He curved a slight downward smile, “You didn’t even give me a hello hug, you always give me a hello hug.”
You sighed and kissed his cheek to reassure him, “I’m fine babe, it’s just that my hair is not working with me at all.” Bokuto looked at your hair then back at you, mentally solving how he can fix your hair problem.
DING! Something hit him and grew happy at his idea. He smiled widely and asked you, “Y/N can I do your hair? Please please pleaseee. The way you style your hair is so pretty and I wanna try it myself.” The man kept begging you until you finally agreed, “Okay okay Bokuto, you can do my hair. But fuck it up and you’re sleeping on the couch for a week.”
“Don’t worry y/n, I got this.” Of course your boyfriend had confidence that he knew exactly what he was doing since he saw you do your hair literally almost every day. For date nights, games, work, any occasion, he would just sit on the bed and watch you work your ways on your hair until it becomes a masterpiece. Always leaving the white/black hair man in awe of what you can do with two hands. One of the great gifts of having a black girlfriend if he does say so himself.
You got off your chair and took a seat on the carpeted floor. While Bokuto went to go shower and put on a change of clothes cause he knows you don’t like having his sweat roaming the room. After, he took a seat at your vanity and looked at your hair supplies spreaded around. He thought about what style he should do on you, there’s so many to choose from and you would look good in all of them but which one?
You looked at him and saw a concerned look on him, you asked, “Something wrong Bo?”
“I don’t know what I wanna do, I mean what I can do to make my baby even prettier than she is now?” You lightly laughed at his compliment, and his thinking face that he had on.
Finally, a style came to mind, one that was simple yet he loved seeing you in it. Before starting, he collected all of the supplies that were needed and got to work on your hair. At first it was silence surrounding the two of you until Bokuto excitedly started talking about how practice went.
“Y/N you should’ve seen me at practice today! The way I was hitting those spikes was literal perfection, I barely missed any. Oh, we had this five-on-five game today and I got to be team captain.”
“It brought back old memories didn’t it?” You smiled at the memory of seeing Bokuto in his high school uniform, fulfilling his captain role, putting a smile on his team's faces for scoring, and being one of the greatest aces in Japan of course.
“Yup! Feels like old times when it would be Akaashi setting the ball for me and the great ace, that’s me, comes flying in, spiking it and getting another score. Now it’s Atsumu setting for me and Hinata cheering me on, I think Sakusa cheered for me too, don’t remember.”
“Last time I remember Sakusa cheered was when Hinata actually didn’t fuck up his quick attack with Atsumu.” You two laughed at the memory of Sakusa being somewhat excited at Hinata for not missing the ball or spiking it too late.
The conversation continued on about practice until Bokuto decided that it was your turn to speak. You spoke about it as Bokuto was all ears, listening to you, even though you were mostly cooped up in this house since it was your day off from work.
You stopped talking to take a peek at what your boyfriend was doing until he firmly pushed you back down on the carpet. He commented that you would ruin the process, he needs to focus, and that he wants you to wait until the end.
“But Bo-”
“Nope y/n, you have to wait.”
You furrowed your brows at him, “It’s my hair Kotaro, why can’t I see?”
“Trust the process y/n! Don’t you always do that with your hair?”
You let a ‘hmph’ and crossed your arms, “At least I get to see what I’m doing.”
Bokuto gave a wide smile to your grouchy face, “You’re gonna love it y/n, I promise.”
You peeped Bokuto grabbing rubber bands, giving you some ideas of what he could be up to. “And I’m holding you to that promise.”
To make time fly by, the two of you had random conversations that led into a whole nother topic than before. One minute you’re talking about getting new furniture then the next, you’re talking about the coral reef. At some point, you guys even had an odd conversation about weird habits that people do.
“Anddd done y/n.” Bokuto scooted back the chair and got up from it, giving you room to get up and take a look at your hair. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped at the work your boyfriend did. You were honestly caught by surprise that your boyfriend could do something like that with your hair. Styling it a large puff with black and white rubber band style going across.
Meanwhile, Bokuto was chewing his lip and getting nervous, wondering whether or not you liked it. He knew how much you loved your hair and he wouldn’t wanna do anything to mess up your beautiful curls/coils. “Do- do you like it y/n?”
You turned around, seeing your face lit up washed away his nerves and giving him a breath of relief. You immediately jumped on him, which caught him by surprise and made him lean back, landing on the bed with you still on him. You responded,”I love it Kotaro! You did such an amazing job and this style is bomb as hell, where did you learn how to do that?”
“After that failed attempt at doing your hair, your great boyfriend, that’s me, went on Youtube to learn how to do different hairstyles with your hair. I really loved this style and I spent hours learning it, but I say it was worth it.”
You smiled at his answer, it made you giddy inside that your boyfriend takes time out of his day to learn how to do your hair. Your hair! One that was definitely different from his natural spiked up hair. This kind of dedication made you fall in love with him even more than before.
You gave him a large smile and kissed him, “It was definitely worth it Bokuto cause I fucking love it. Plus I think it’s cute that you tried to match with the black and white rubber bands.”
“I’m so happy you love it y/n.”
You kissed his cheek and said, “I’m even more happy that I have a boyfriend like you.”
“Besides, what if we have a kid y/n? I can’t leave it to you to do all the work. I wanna have little daddy-daughter dates and do her hair while I’m showing her volleyball videos.”
You laughed at him, “You’re gonna stuff our future daughter’s brain with volleyball and make them say ‘One touch’ instead of ‘mama’. But I think that’s so sweet of you Bokuto.” You hugged your boyfriend and he hugged you back even tighter, “That and I didn’t like seeing my baby frustrated.”
“Next time my hair doesn’t cooperate, I’ll just call you for help.”
“Call me Bokuto, the great hair superhero!” You two laughed at the superhero name and shared the moment of happiness and content surrounding the two of you. Honestly, you couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend besides Kotaro Bokuto himself.
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omg I finally finished it, wow I’m proud of myself
I haven’t written in a superrrr long time but hopefully I can get back and write regularly
bye babes, drink your water, stay hydrated, and remember that you are the baddest bitch on the planet 🥰 no matter what ANYONE says
𝐏𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝟐𝟕:𝟏𝟒 💗
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© 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟣 𝗂𝗓𝗎𝗄𝗎𝗌𝖽𝖾𝗄𝗎. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽
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