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somany-fandoms-solittle-time · 7 months

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“What’s so Special About the Moon?”

Jamil Viper x MC(insert character Mac)

(Ch. 1) – Ch. 2 – Ch. 3 – Ch. 4 – Next – Previous

This was originally supposed to be, like, a single chapter hurt/comfort before my OC (Mac) and Jamil as a song fic where they berate him and then sing a song referencing the moon… but then I had feelings and it’s becoming a more in depth character study between the two. Don’t worry! By the end of this mini series, there will be song lyrics and more sappiness… it’s just now that I’ve finished both Book 4 and Book 5, I need to reorganize the events and specific and whatnot. Some quick housekeeping as always: I tried to make Jamil to encompass both his dark & mysterious villain persona ALONG WITH him practically being a fucking child so that’s why I wrote him like *this* so yeah… I’m moving around the timeline so that Yuu/MC (aka Mac) has the weekend to GET THEIR SHIT TOGETHER LOL, Mac is about 19-20 (haven’t decided yet) and uses mixed pronouns as a heads up, Ch. 2 has a 1st draft written put still needs to be typed up and edited. If you see a typo NO YOU DIDN’T!!! This one of my first times trying a different writing doc that isn’t Google (cuz fuck Google) and it’s a little weird to get used to and edit stuff. It’s beta-d in the sense that licking the spatula while your mom bakes cookies and claiming that you helped… literally only a few paragraphs were checked over y’all.

Quick shout-out to @krenenbaker and @twst-beam for inspiring my writing thus far (and sorry for taking so long to post this lol!)

I’ll be releasing some type of overview of my OC eventually, but take these snippets as they go while I fall back in love with writing. You’ll meet Mac in full when xey are good and ready… anyway, please enjoy Chapter 1 of my new fanfiction, “What’s So Special About the Moon?”

“Here. You can use this one,” Jamil directed towards the plain (compared to the rest of the dorm) laundry… mat? There were several industrial sized washer and dryers, a couple moderate-sized one’s that would fit a regular apartment complex, and a long wall designated area for hand washed items. Jamil was keeping the door prompt open with his hips; his slight frown of concentration and the flick of his Magic Pen were the only signs of the current spell he had going. Turning around, MC was slightly surprised by the massive piles of fabric that was being corralled in via multiple a massive sheet tied to multiple brooms. They still couldn’t fully grasp the concept (and power) of magic and seeing it so casually performed on a day-to-day basis was kinda daunting.

“Thanks again for letting us use the space along with showing me how to properly clean all these fancy duds and whatnot.” the Ramshackle Perfect awkwardly trailed off. Their focus was split between stealing peaks at the Scarabia Vice Warden, not wanting to bother the already busy Sophomore, and surveying over the dusty, damaged antique pieces the two stripped from the halls of the previously abandoned dorm. Rugs, carpets, curtains, furniture covers (in varying state of disrepair) dulled of their once rich and vibrant color. The patterns were a mix of stuffy academia and the quiet comfort of a grandparents cottage living room. Both extravagant, yet understated. It’s a style lost to time, but not quite a revived ancient aesthetic.

At this point MC was fully lost in thought; they desperately needed to clean, fix, organize and decorate the dorm in preparation to host so many guests. Even with his limited memories, they had a feeling they’d never hear the end of it from his parents.

“Don’t worry about it much.” Jamil said, interrupting their musings. “Honestly, I’m doing this as much for myself as I am helping you.

With a flick of his wrist, Jamil organized the seemingly random crumbled piles of fabric by condition, color and use. His movements while cleaning were quick, smart, and efficient-- all while patiently showing Mac which order to start in along with the best way to clean them.

“Ya’ know…” MC broke the relative quietness between the two workers, “Even with everything thing that happened over break, I understand why Kalim still trusts you; I almost can believe that you’re not that bad of a guy.” Jamil gave xem a startled (and exasperated) look, but they continued before he could respond: “I fail to see how helping the person who ruined your ‘world domination’ plans—”

“They were hardly World Domination level!” He quickly snapped. His embarrassment led to him tugging his hood further down his face, teeth slightly clenched, and dilated eyes as MC continued listing all the ways he’s “helped” them out.

The magic-less Perfect laughed to themselves the more conflicting emotions flew across Jamil’s face. Eventually those same emotions were compressed behind a cold, smooth mask. Limestone slabs and stiff mud brick walls were swiftly constructed between the two working-class students. Something about it didn’t sit right with Mac.

“Hey I’m not saying what you pulled wasn’t a dick move! But you’re also not the first overly-traumatized teen boy I’ve had to deal with… and between what you’ve said about yourself, plus thing’s I’ve heard and seen, I’m starting to think you’re not nearly as complicated as you think you are.” The longer they argued *to* him, the more Jamil’s mask began to crack; there were a few holes in his walls he didn’t account for. Xe’s a tad more observant than I remember, but weirdly just as persistent, Jamil internally rolled his eyes.

“I could still change my mind and send you back to deal with the Pomefiore Wrath(tm),” He mumbled while gracefully lugging the newly cleaned (and damp) furniture coverings into an empty drier. Despite his harsh threat, MC still remembered him assuring the other this laundry room was only ever used by him after Kalim’s parties.

The large machines and larger working space was specifically added for the servant to clean and repair any decor or Asim Family Treasures when Kalim’s recklessness caused a larger mess than usual. This meant that Mac and Grim (who was originally supposed to be helping… where the hell was he anyway?) could do as many loads needed without worry. On top of the borrowed space, the Housewarden himself had cheerily has assured them, his Oasis Maker would replace all the water used ten times over!

Mac’s thoughts were interrupted once again as Jamil relented, “I told you, I’m doing this to help me.” After receiving an unconvinced eyebrow raise, Jamil began to explain, “Kalim might’ve announced us as equals but I still have a job to do. If he got sick while spending Allah knows how long in a dusty, dirty, shabby condemned building like Ramshackle I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“It’s not nearly that bad anymore!” the sole-human resident of said dorm argued, but was quickly shut up with a tired gesture towards the untouched loads of laundry left to be done.

“On top of that,” Jamil smirked “Even a common peasant like myself wouldn’t sleep in a rundown garbage heap if I can help it.” His smirk slowly slide off his face from his face as the insulted Perfect almost ripped the handful of soapy doilies, that they were previously scrubbing by hand, as xey prepared a retaliation.

“OK, first of all! This whole Inferior-Superior shtick isn’t going to prove your point. If I’m being totally honest, I’m pretty used to the bratty, arrogant attitude of teenagers by now (even if I wasn’t Leona is a thousand times worse).” They turned their full body to face the 2nd year boy before continuing the assault. “Secondly, even just doing the bare minimum would’ve been fine, considering I’ve slowly been deep cleaning them place room by room. This is just last minute cleaning considering I wasn’t expected to host six extra people in two days.”

The shock of Mac’s care and attention to detail couldn’t win over Jamil’s newfound freedom to be right… and sassy while doing it. “Keep in mind you wouldn’t be the only one having to deal with Vil. His expectations are much higher than my personal standards—”

“Getting there!” MC interrupted again. “It’s not like Vil and whoever else couldn’t magic things better or get things done over at Pomefiore.” However, their fire started to die down with their obvious lack of understanding of magic. Not that Xeir level of intellect ever stopped them from talking out of their ass during debates… even if this wasn’t exactly shaping up to be anything like Debate Club back home.

“Not the point!” Mac built back their steam after thoughtlessly shaking off any internal distractions. “Third of all,” Jamil groaned not-so-quietly, “third of all, you didn’t have to show me how to do it. Nor did you have to continue helping me. There’s only so much I could pay you back in favors and it’s not like you’ll make back the time and energy spent. You’re obviously a bit of a piece of shit but I don’t totally blame…”

Jamil suddenly gave Mac his full attention. He smoothed any emotional tells from his face and readied himself to actively dissect what ever left xeir mouth and any messages in between the lines. The silence prompted Mac to drip extra sincerity as they begin to ramble without thinking.

“… I get why you did what you did. You’re not totally forgiven, but it’s not like I’ll hold a grudge over you forever. Whenever I joke about Winter Break I thought you knew it was just that: a joke.”

The two stared at one another for a few beats. Jamil betrayed nothing that he was thinking, but Mac could practically feel the exasperation flooding off of him in great waves. The disbelief pushing and pulling off of him, despite remaining stone cold to zeir admission. So, of course, they continued with slight for fever:

“Yeah, okay, you held us all prisoner, enslaved via hypnosis your entire dorm, and nearly killed multiple students. Twice.” Mac cringed at their own blunt statement, “… But why would you go as far as you did, if you didn’t care! What your parents, and more specifically your culture, put you through wasn’t fair—but you obviously still love and cherish them!”

At this, he seemed to get even more guarded. It felt patronizing to be hold how he supposedly felt or why he should feel a specific way. They hadn’t been there. They hadn’t grown up as a Viper in the Desert, constantly reminded by Kalim’s Mirage of wealth what he could never have. They didn’t know the FIRST thing about the Scalding Sands—!

“… How do you know anything about my parents? Did Kalim--?!” He choked out infuriated at the mere implication.

“Relax Viper! It’s all in the Secret of The Ooze™”

“What?”

“Never mind…”

The usual absurdity of MC’s references (much to xeir chagrin that no one seemed to understand them) Jamil allowed himself a shadow of a smirk. Right about now they’d drop what they were saying and instead empathize with him over terrible bosses. They’d both fall back into a familiar pattern of quiet understanding while making playful small talk; maybe Xe’d make a remark over how “hellish” the desert temperature is and moan about being “a poor Northern forced into the sun” before dragging them both off to grab an abominably sweet drink that Kalim would still put sugar in. Xe had always been could at mediating with the other students at NCR.

However, they didn’t drop it. They continued to push him… especially when they realized that he expected the conversation to have ended and started to relax. Xey pushed and pushed and pushed. Finally, they had circled back to him rebelling from his status.

“What? You think I’d be Happier staying a lowly servant?! I’d rather cut my own tongue out than remain bending to Kalim’s will for the rest of my days.” He huffed, still not stopping his assault on the pile of laundry in front of him.

A frustrated sigh left Mac as Xey tried to get their point across, “THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M SAYING!… Obviously, you don’t love being forced into child labor or having to pretend to be something you’re not, but that doesn’t mean you’re totally being honest with yourself either. Rebelling adolescents often do a complete 180 of who they once presented as in an extreme action to feel validated.”

Jamil scoffed in indignation at the impromptu therapy session he’d been forced into.

“Just because you were forced to lie sometimes as ‘Servant Jamil’ doesn’t mean those memories or feelings weren’t authentic!”

“My Childhood, my Pride, my ENTIRE LIFE was stolen from me before I could even open my eyes, Mac! Who could cherish that sort of future?”

“I’m not disputing that! I’m not trying, in any way, to imply that what you went through didn’t fucking suck. But just because you’ve started saying the quiet part out loud doesn’t mean you’re being totally honest either. Switching one mask for another just means nothing has changed but your ability to bitch about-it to the kid you literally Grew Up With, Jamil.” A tired resignation was growing in their eyes as they headed to the end of xeir rant.

It was clear MC was starting to speak in circles and xey weren’t going to be able to get through to them. A heavy weight sunk deep in their chest, slowly sliding to xeir stomach the more he misunderstood the magic-less student. I saw him drown in the depths of his own helplessness and self-pity, but even after he’s been pulled out it’s like he can’t help but dive back in for a swim. It was a suffocating thought while Mac watched as Jamil once again went stone-faced… Like what he was about to say would be his final shield before walking away. It’s a shame that the Ramshackle Resident had become too used to throwing bombs over walls and blowing verbal shields to smithereens after months of being stuck in Twisted Wonderland.

“I’m not sugarcoating or bowing down to anyone anymore. I won’t bite my tongue. I won’t put on a Happy Face to Kalim’s idiotic, half-thought out ideas again. I’m slowly gaining my freedom, something you clearly don’t understand. Just because you’re as blind as he is doesn’t mean anything! What more could you want from me?!” He hissed his final insult before finally stepping away from his station. Not leaving the room, he aggressively got himself a cup of water from one of the sink and gulped the unfiltered water down.

“Just because you’re not hiding your bitter, knee-jerk reaction from an unfair world doesn’t mean you aren’t still hiding away and lying about your more vulnerable emotions.” Mac whispered in an emotionless tone. “Cutting a part of your past off and pretending it was never there is doing yourself a disservice and lying to those that still care about you… And there sure-as-shit isn’t much that I hate more than a Fucking Liar.”

. . . . . .

The lacy doilies sat in a sudsy basin, left forgotten as the two students stood a mere paces from each other—both maintaining an uncomfortably intense eye contact. The sloshing thump of the washers and stirring hum of driers harmonizing were the only song to accompany the two’s stare down. A short hiccup as Mac took a drawn out breath was the only reaction between the two of them. The combined heat of Scarabia’s sun (barely past 10am) and the humidity of continued use of machinery didn’t help the suffocating air in the wide laundry room. Not to mention the loud, stifling silence to boot.

MC usually held back such honest commentary (not that they weren’t blunt) unless Xe deemed it necessary: think high stakes and a sense of urgent drama. But something about Jamil and Kalim’s situation reminded them of himself. The two’s intertwined dance of class, history, loyalty and betrayal, friendship and loss, and such overwhelming guilt reminded the dimension hoping stranger of home. Whatever that meant.

But this was no time to get lost in their own problems and Trauma’s. They’d went too far (again) and that means xey should be the bigger person (again) and deescalate the situation before he hated them (AGAIN). Which means, MC would be the one to break the silence and run away again.

“Ya’ know what? Grim’s probably burned the school down already. Don’t worry about,” Ze gestured blindly to the numerous stations they’d started, “this mess. I’ll rope my little Rat Gremlin and the Freshies into finishing this up. Hell, I could probably convince Rugs to pitch in for lunch or something. Bully the Music Club with helping in exchange of random sheet music I still remember from home.”

Their rambles became more spastic as they noticed Mr. Sugar, Spice and Not-So-Nice break out of his own trance and try to reply. “Seriously! Just enjoy the break… Not that it’s my place or responsibility to be butting in anyway. I will be back in, like, 10 minutes and from here-on-out minding my own damn business. Sorry. Whatever. See you sometime after Sunday, I guess?” Their entire monoluge Mac was slowly backing out of the room before turning around in xeir spot and just short of sprinting their way out of the dorm. A few passerby Scarabia students stopped to eavesdrop on xeir muttering… watch them leave.

Without getting a word in Jamil stood unmoving, watching the Ramshackle Perfect leave swifter than the desert wind shifting the dunes. Almost on auto-pilot, he simply left to go back to his room and do as he was told; enjoy his break. His day off. The day he could do what he liked and didn’t necessarily have to prioritize work. A day he spent working to help and assist the pitiful, magic-less loser that was dropped-kicked into another reality and forced to play nice with a University filled with overpowered and hormonal teenagers while having no way home… And in return was insulted, psychoanalyzed, and thrown aside before he could get a word in edgewise.

“Son of a STREET RAT!!!!!” It was clear he’d need a few hours to calm down before he could even think of trying to enjoy the rest of his Saturday off.

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royalelusts · 2 years

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hii babes i was wondering if u could do a tr boys x( beyonce )reader maybe bonten?like how their s/o is famous and they are world criminals .have a good day <3

rating: sfw

word count: 170

characters: chifuyu, bonten sanzu, bonten ran, bonten kokonoi, bonten kakucho

warnings: none tbh. straight fluff.

a/n; I was listening to a nintendo music playlist while writing this and lemme tell you something. it hit so good. I hope you enjoyed lovebug!!! mwah <333333

Chifuyu

He often asks himself how he scored someone like you

Not that he isn’t confident in his skills

It just that you are literal perfection

The way you speak, the way you laugh, the way you dress

Just how you present yourself as a whole

He definitely has watched all of your interviews at least 3 times

Attempts to go on tour with you but also feels bad leaving everything to kazutora

So facetime is both of your favorites

Oh when you sing???

Literally feels like he died and went to heaven

I’m talking ascending the astral plane

Constantly showering you in compliments cause fuck you deserve it

Is always there if things ever get too much and need a break

One time a family came into the pet shop while you were hanging out behind the counter

The two little girls gasped before running up asking for hugs

You happily indulged cause they were adorable

Chifuyu was just standing there smiling cause you really were his whole world

Kokonoi

When he first met you he deadass had no idea who you were

He’s really only invested in bonten and whatever other businesses go into that

Y’all would probably meet by pure coincidence

You were at the bar relaxing after a long day

Some guy recognized you and was being very persistent

You were trying to be polite and turn him down but he wouldn't get the hint

And quite frankly it was pissing you off

Koko (who just happens to own the bar) glanced over and decided to intervene

He really only came over cause the guy owed bonten some cash

But hey he saved a cutie in the process so win-win?

He offered you a drink saying it was on the house

You both started talking and the conversation just moved so smoothly

Y’all kind of hit it off them there

Texting each other every single day

He still had no idea who you were until 2 weeks later when Ran brought you up out of nowhere

But anyway

He spoils you so much

Like yeah you have the money to do all that yourself but he just cant help it

He wants to see you smile :)

If someone on one of your management/financial team isn’t doing a good enough job he’ll have them replaced immediately

You’ve tried to talk him out of this but it usually doesn’t go anywhere

“My baby deserves the best”

Doesn’t mind that you dont post him a lot (due to criminal activity)

He gets you all to himself that way

Ran

This mfer right here

Y’all already know how i feel about him

You two are that couple

He knows he’s hot

And the fact that he scored an absolute baddie like you just boosts this ego

He really wants to go on the red carpet with you to show off but cant :/

Instead he helps you pick out your outfit along with the accessories to top it all off

Whenever someone asks you what inspired the look you just smile and say “your personal designer”

Though you keep majority of your life private and off the internet everyone put the pieces together that you were dating someone

Whenever its brought up in an interview you just kinda brush it off and change the subject

One time paparazzi actually got photo of you and Ran together

You were literally on the brink of tears cause not only does it put everything you worked for in danger but also Ran

He wasn’t having that

No one stresses you out but him

He paid a little visit to the photographer and would you look at that?

No more photos!

Whenever he can convince you to go out with him to one of bonten’s many clubs its always a blasts

You’re both in the vip lounge sipping drinks

His hand is rested delicately on your waist the whole night massaging it slowly

UGH this man

Sanzu

How y’all met?

Kind of a mystery tbh

But here you are :D

Definitely your #1 simp

Like wow

He definitely gets sad you dont post him

Its a very common conversation between the both of you

“Why dont you post me?”

“You’re a literal criminal”

“I mean yeah but think of how cool we’d look together”

Though he says that he really doesnt involve you with bonten things

As long as it doesn’t directly interfere with y’all relationship its not mention

Well unless the Haitani’s just kinda show up to y’all penthouse wanting to hang out🧍🏽‍♀️

They often crash there since Sanzu’s is the closest from work

Not that you mind though

THIS ISNT ABOUT THEM RN THOUGH

Back to sanzu

He does want to go out with you sometimes though

You often go out super late together when barely anyone is on the street

There’s this one takeout restaurant you both go to often

You were worried at first but the owner is super chill

He’s seen enough shit so a celebrity and a dangerous criminal is the least of his worries

Kakucho

This man has my whole heart omg

The most normal out of the three others

Yeah he knew who you were but literally did not give a shit

Well he didnt until you two started dating

You both would go to the same coffee shop late at night

Him having just finished a job and you taking a break from the studio

You two usually never spoke to each other besides a small head nop to acknowledge one another

When you did actually speak it was just small talk before a comfortable silence returned

It got the point where you two would share a table doing your own thing

Him scrolling through his phone and you either doing the same or trying to come up with different lyrics to songs

You would often bounce some things off of him to see if he liked it

Kaku loves when you do this cause your voice is just so nice and smooth

Fast forward you’re both dating now

He’s really more of a homebody so y’all mostly chill at home together

Is up to date with everything in your life

Sometimes he even reminds you of things you forgot

“Dont you have the meeting today?”

“Huh?”

Cue you running out the apartment and calling your manager to apologize

He sent you a text reading ‘be safe’ cause he knows how you can get sometimes

Is your rock when you’re preparing for a tour or just frustrated in general

When you’re stress/tired/need attention (and hes done with his work) he’ll spoon you on the couch and take a nap with you

#✰—writes!!!#tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #tokrev fluff #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu fluff #kokonoi x reader #ran x reader #ran fluff #sanzu x reader #sanzu fluff #kakucho x reader #kakucho fluff #chifuyu matsuno #kokonoi hajime #ran haitani #sanzu haruchiyo #kakucho hitto

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andkisses · 10 months

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♡ just a friend | hyuka ♡

first kisses are scary. that’s why you’ve decided your first kiss should be with your best friend.

♡ kai x gn!reader | wc. 842 ♡ genres/tropes: fluff, y’all are both oblivious to being in love lol ♡ mentions of/warnings: none ♡ a/n: this is a rewrite of a fic i wrote but can’t remember if i ever posted on my old blog, so here it is !

The idea is simple, elegant in design and concept. It strikes both of you at the same time, as if you’re both hit on the head by a bored cupid. You sit beside, shoulders touching, watching yet another cheesy romcom. The two leads on screen fumble their way into a kiss, too nervous and naive to actually enjoy it. The slow turn towards each other, a single eyebrow raised in question, tells you he’s on board already.

Let’s be each other’s first kiss.

Kai cocked his head, tilting it towards you. “What's the worst that could happen?” he asks. Even with this idea brewing, the space between you doesn’t feel awkward. Watching movies on the shag rug after you’d pushed away the coffee table for more room still felt like the most amazingly mundane Saturday night task. Kai winked languidly, making sure to seem as fake as possible. “We fall in love?”

You scoffed, faking a gag and rolling your eyes. “Yeah, right.”

You take a moment to ensure all your hair is out of your face, brushing fingertips against your skin and behind your ears. The whole point of this was to make it the least awkward as possible. After all، it wasn't like you got your very first kiss every day.

The summer between sophomore and junior year feels like it’s stretching on into infinity, and yet you'd never been kissed. Never gone on a date, even. You assumed it was because everyone thought you were dating Kai--which was plain weird because you and him were just friends. The best of friends. You'd been together (but not together-together) for what already felt like an eternity.

You never thought of what it would be like to hold his hand in public, running your thumb across the back of his knuckles. What it would be like to confirm people’s suspicions and have them gush over how cute and compatible you are together. What it would be like to call Kai yours, to never have to worry about him being with anyone else, who obviously wouldn’t have his best interest at heart.

You never let yourself think of any of it, keeping it locked behind a door in your brain that you tried day in and day out to forget even existed.

It–this–is enough. Any more would just feel too odd.

Which, you decide, is why this plan is so genius. No feelings, just pure discovery. You watch Kai take a quick sip of his eyes water while you wet your lips. Why suffer through a first kiss with someone who will eventually break your heart when you can do it with someone you trust?

No words were exchanged, you'd watched enough movies to know what’s supposed to happen. The two potential lovers–which, ew, you totally aren’t, but you let mind enter the role, just for right now–lean in close, catching their breaths, then lightly press their lips against each other. Sparks fly. Fireworks go off. You expected neither of these things, because duh, he’s your best friend.

You also didn’t expect his lips to taste like green tea, and yet here you were. They’re soft, and enticing, and so very Kai you don’t quite know what to do. One hand went to the couch so you wouldn't topple over on to him—this was to avoid awkwardness after all. You can't recall where the other landed, perhaps they dug into the shag carpet.

The kiss is over too fast, at least you felt like. Suddenly, all the movies made another layer of sense. There weren't any fireworks booming inside your head, jumbling around your thoughts. No incessant urge to pop one leg up like a cliche princess movie. But, an incessant urge for more.

Which is weird, because you kissed Kai out of science, a theory. A way to learn about kissing so when you actually had to do it on someone for real, you didn’t have to think.

Maybe, that’s what it is.

And there is a sparkler of sorts going off inside you, golden light everywhere. Your head buzzes with the excitement of newness. Your fingertips tingle with a want of something more, craving a sensation you can’t quite explain. You couldn’t wait to find someone to kiss like this all the time. You couldn't wait for Kai to find someone to kiss like this all the time.

You finally lean apart, back to your original spots on the rug. Kai opens his mouth to say something, focus drawing a triangle between your eyes and lips, when his attention dashes from you to the TV. Credits scrolled up the screen at an abysmal pace. “We forgot to pause the movie!”

You lunge for the remote, ready to skip it back to the scene you were at pre-kiss. There’s a rush, a tingle up your arm when your hand brushes his. You decide it’s best not to look at him right now, as your heart races and your lips long for more. Kai is, after all, just a friend.

Your best friend.

#kdiarynet #kwritersworld #kflixnet #huening kai fluff #txt fluff #huening kai #kai #hyuka fluff #txt #all #drabbles

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pinkacademic · 1 year

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YOUR Fashion Icons!

I couldn’t cover everyone you guys asked me for in one post, else we’d be here for a while! I picked a few of the top mentions, and a few to add a bit of contrast to hopefully hit as many styles as possible! I threw in a few of mine too as a bit of self-indulgence, but I hope you guys appreciate them too!

Old Hollywood: Marilyn, Audrey, etc.

I saw quite a few Marilyns and Audreys, as well as Ava Gardner and a Grace Kelly or two. I decided to group them together, but let me know if you’d be interested in a more extensive deep-dive.

To me, the thing that’s going to set you apart as vintage Hollywood is hair and makeup, especially a victory red lip, but that’s not my area of expertise, I confess! I also didn’t want to say “just wear vintage and vintage-inspired, duh,” because that’s cheap. I’m going to try to break down the looks.

Common elements are all designed to emphasise and create a traditionally feminine silhouette such as something to emphasise the bust and decolletage, cinch the waist, and skim the hips- be it pencil or flared at the skirt. Of course, this speaks to the times, but it can be recreated in daywear and nighttime glam by recognising the shapes you want to create. Ideas: a halterneck, a long-line necklace, a sweetheart or bardot (fitting) that reveals the decolletage. Pencil skirts and flared circle skirts are equally vintage, but we do not talk enough about a pretty little short/skort/romper situation.

But let’s also just normalise wearing big, fluffy robes that look like we murdered our fourth rich old husband as an appropriate outfit to buy groceries in.

Jang Won Young

Y’all are educating me, this was a fashion queen I was not familiar with and I’m interested. I’m going to be basing this off of what I see on the images tab, though, so I don’t know how accurate this will be!

She seems to have such a classic, pretty style that goes everywhere from the fashion girly uniform from a few years ago, to classic tumblr, to all the k-pop staples. She’s reminding me of Lara Jean Covey. What I’m largely seeing is a lot of tailored shorts, big poofy white blouses, and pastels. She seems to be in pink a lot, so she’s after my heart, and I’m seeing a lot of varsity stripes on socks, hems, etc as well as denim, especially shorts.

The elements I would use to emmulate her style would be some nice pairs of shorts- pastels and denim, perhaps- and black. I’m seeing frilly white blouses so a range with long and short sleeves and different details such as collars. Varsity jackets and socks in black, white, or pink would add to the vibe, and are going on my wishlist.

Jennie Kim

My blackpink heart! I’m happy. Her style is so ranged from like, that baddie kind of style to the Chanel. To me, I feel like black and white together can play into both of those styles, as well as a good pair of denim jeans. I’m also seeing bows coming up a lot, be it a pussycat bow on the top, a gorgeously big bow that takes up most of her top (I’m sure you’ve seen the iconic ‘fit with the pretty purple cardigan), and you can even do one on the hip on a skirt.

If you really want to emmulate Jennie, you could go a long way with a big gold buckle to look like the Chanel buckle… or get a real Chanel belt, I’m not stopping you. Pearl details are my favourite and also add to the classic Chanel look. Tweed goes a long way too.

I am consistently seeing black and white, with the casual side being a striped tee with baggy jeans, and the more classy side being matching Chanel sets.

You can find nice cardigans that dupe Chanel sets, and a simple skirt matching the contrasting colour can have a classy look.

Megan Thee Stallion

I’m not that familiar with her, but I know she eats red carpets for breakfast, and I stan. I’m going to use that as my main inspiration because I must say, I worship it.

I think that, in order to take inspiration from Megan Thee Stallion, you should go for bustiers, camisoles, and other pieces that take inspiration from lingerie, especially either in black or a very bold, strong colour like a vibrant orange or gold. You can go full red carpet with a long, sexy dress, but day-to-day wearing something that highlights your favourite parts of your body to show off such as a bodycon skirt or tight-fitting jeans.

Despite the oppulence of the dresses, the shoes, while usually high heels, tend to be quite simple and elegant and easy to dupe.

I’m seeing also this stunning black blazer from the 2019 VMAs with silver stud detailing. It’s paired with matching socks and black boots. You can find leather blazers, studded leather jackets etc and for a casual look, you can go for a black skirt or shorts with boots, and for a glam look, something with silver sparkles.

Jennifer Check

To whoever suggested this one, I love you.

We’re all thinking of the heart hoodie, so let’s start there. Given the surge of this kind of pattern in the past few years, this is probably pretty replicable. It can also be applied to blouses, sweater vests, and anything else you’d like for more of an influence than a recreation.

For the rest of her style, the key elements are cropping and/or low-rise- basically, we’re showing off skin around the midriff or stomach. She has another pink moment, but to me the key colour has to be a dangerous shade of red from the lovehearts to the fishnets… ....to the blood… Maybe we try to emmulate the blood instead of recreating that exactly- but more power to you if you go out and buy fake blood and make it part of your normal routine. Anyways, the fishnets are a nice little nod, as would a lacey texture, or like a pattern overlaid over another colour- she tends to wear a lot of black and white, so its one to consider.

My favourite moment is the long white dress (again, DRENCHED in blood) which I would nod to with a white blouse or skirt with a black bow detail and white accestories- or just go for it with gloves.

Hillary Banks

You’re not getting away without a hat for this one. The Hilary Formula is repeated regularly and its a 90s power suit moment. She wears short skirts, usually pencil skirts, with bold shoulder-padded blazers and a funky little hat. Rinse and repeat that, and you’re doing it, baby. I associate her with red, but anything strong and striking will give the effect you want, ideally in just as eye-catching a pattern.

She’s also a huge jewellry kind of gal, so more is more on this one- the gaudier the better. Gold, flower accesories, bold stones; rings a-plenty, earrings for the gods, and a chunky gold necklace.

You can modernise Hilary too because the look doesn’t go out of style, it just evolves. Personally, I would change up the blazer a little to a more modern silhouette. To me, that’s more tapered at the waist and less-boxy. If it were me, I’d go for a little bit of a shorter skirt. You can lean a little towards Cher and Dionne to keep it in the same decade, but slightly-less aggresively 90s.

But you must keep the hats. You will not change my mind.

Lady Gaga

This one was tough because her outfits range from aliens and Venus to red carpet glam. I feel like for Lady Gaga, there are still a few elements that you can go for like platform shoes, and geometric, angular pieces like shoulder pads or asymmetery but the main thing is pushing the boat out and trying new things.

But the simplest way to do that is looking into subversive basics. Try cut-out details, angles, jeans that button on a diagonal, and pushing the norm just slightly.

Lady Gaga’s big fashion thing is making it into art, a performance. Find pieces that feel creative and out there and try new jewellry, big chunky platform shoes, studs and details, and something that adds a bit of spice. Even if you add a neon earring to a plain black outfit, you’re pushing your own comfort zone.

Figure out what makes you feel not just confidant, but like a work of art.

Now we’re getting into a few of my icons…

Katie from Steal the Spotlight (YouTube)

This woman is my biggest fashion recs, the way she plays with fashion is so inspirational to me, even if its not that I want to to copy her literal style.

She layers and accesorieses like nobody’s business and blends different elements like J-fashion, K-pop influences and girly cartoons. The key aspects of her style are use of colour-co-ordination, layering pieces, and accesoriesing, but her range is truly everything from pastel princess to Misa Amane.

Sweater vests, harnesses, mini skirts, platform shoes, and leg warmers are huge aspects of her style, and the big go-to is colour co-ordination and theming outfits aggresively.

Regina Mills, Once upon a Time The Evil Queen of my Heart, Regina is always ready for mayoral duties, or murder depending on where the mood of the day takes her. Then there’s also the fairytale dresses that I dream about, honestly.

I’m going to need a collection of structured, elegant blazers and trousers, dresses, and skirts, and a bustier or two… or twenty in the theme colours of black, blue, purple, and red. I might swap the red out for pink for my own preferences but my eyes have already glazerd over daydreaming about her wardrobe. I have an eye out for some under-knee black boots.

In the Enchanted Forest, outfit inspiration comes from her tight corseted bodices, dramatic collars and necklines, murderous heels, and playing with txtures- leather, lace, and velvet come to mind.

Real-Life Princesses (Diana, Meghan, Kate etc)

Diana is back in public consciousness after The Crown, and for me, I love a good university sweatshirt to add a bit of academia to even a casual look. My favourites are also the masculine button-up shirts and structured trousers or jeans that read very old money. While I personally plan on swapping my colour palettes out a bit, true Diana styling would be neutrals with the shirt in white or perhaps blue jeans. For shoes, loafers.

She also had a fabulous elegant style featuring evening dresses and business-ready suits. This to me is the real-life princesscore standard. Daywear is often a blazer or jacket matching a knee-length dress underneath and usually neutral heels. This kind of look has been seen on Diana, Kate, and Meghan, and around the world on Princess Martha Louise of Norway, Princess Haya of Norway and Princess Mako of Akishino. Let me know if a full analysis of real-life princess fashion would be interesting to anyone!

Let’s talk about the details of the Revenge Dress, because that’s what we all really want to look like at all times: Its black, off the shoulder, draping in a bardot-style neckline below her shoulders and dipping into a sweetheart and drawing attention to the collarbone and cleavage.

It is asymmetric, wrapping tightly around the knees at an angle and creating an almost-slit. The shortr side plays host to the billowy drape of a diaphonous fabric.

She’s wearing pointed-toed black shoes, and a hardcore pearl choker with the most stunning sapphire by the looks of it…

This look deserves the long-lasting attention its had, it is genuinely stunning and is giving me so much inspiration.

#pink academia #pink #academia #pink academia fashion #fashion isnpiration #old hollywood fashion #jang won young #jennie kim #megan thee stallion #jennifer check #hilary banks #lady gaga #steal the spotlight #regina mills #princess diana #princesscore

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artzychic27 · 1 year

Note

More Actor AU commentary?

*Juleka, Luka, Myléne, and Alix are having their hair re-dyed*

Juleka: The stylists have a closet exclusively for our hair dye. I’ve never felt so honored.

Luka: *Squeals* We each got our own shelves!

Alix: Yeah, it’s great, but then the fumes really start to kick in, ya’know?

Myléne: I told you guys to go with the eco-friendly stuff, now I’m sitting here not breathing in toxic fumes.

—

Mireille: Come here, we’re gonna show you the Akuma closet.

*Marinette the door to a massive walk-in closet of Akuma costumes*

Marinette: This is where most of the magic actually happens. The artists like to have their space and this is the quietest room to work on designs. Hey, CeCe.

CeCe: *Drawing under a table* Silence!

Mireille: Yes, ma’am. Anyway, the costumes here are all stored here when they’re no longer in use until later episodes when an Akuma returns, or for the design team to come in and make alterations. Like… Oh! Here’s Reverser’s original suit. *Pulls out a black and white Two-Face inspired suit*

Marinette: See, it’s good, but it can always be better. Now, the creators are letting Marc wear it to the red carpet event.

—

Kim: *Doing his makeup* See, unlike most of my co-stars, I do my own makeup for each scene. I’m cool like that.

Marc: *Doing a Smokey eye* We’re cool like that.

—

Reshma: Naturally, we all hate Marc and Kim because they don’t spend three hours in makeup every morning.

Denise: I’d kill for those fine-ass eyes.

—

Nino: To properly look like your typical high school students, we stay up for hours each night to create eye bags instead of using makeup

Marinette: You think students wake up without eye bags? Fuck y’all.

—

Nathaniel: It took all sorts of candy and video games to keep the kids of the original show preoccupied so they don’t tackle me during takes.

Alya: *Laughing* We don’t know why, but kids just love Nath! Ella and Etta are obsessed with him.

Nino: Chris can’t stay off of him. Same for Manon. Whenever they see Nath, they’re clinging to his legs.

Marc: Kiran absolutely ADORES Nath! Sometimes Nath let’s him draw on his arm.

Nathaniel: You won’t believe how thrilled they were when they heard they’d be getting to interact with me more. They’re especially jealous of Manon since she got to do a scene with me first.

—

Aurore: *Opens the door to her dressing room to reveal a wall of parasols* As you can see, I take my character’s love of parasols very serious. You have your holiday-themed parasols, parasols with pointed tip when I need to strike a bitch, and a special one I don’t open. I just walk around with it like a fancy cane.

—

Chloé: Zoé and I are just thrilled to be best friends on the show! Looking at the original script, I’m just like, “God, this dialogue sucks.”

Zoé: Don’t get us wrong, there’s gonna be some ups and downs in my first scene, but we bond over a mutual matred of our mother.

Chloé: Such a wonderful bond!

—

Kim: Behold! The Wig Room! *Opens the door to a room full of wigs* This is where we keep the wigs for Akumas and heroes! Oh! There’s Ikati Black’s! You won’t believe how long it takes the stylists to braid Max’s hair back.

Max: That’s their workout. Because of me, they have amazing biceps.

—

Alya: When filming Lady WiFi, there were like a shit-ton of green screens just everywhere. I’m fact, the characters were forbidden from wearing green during the takes where we had the screens up!

Max: My signature color! Gone!

Tomassian: Uh, how do you I felt? They had to edit in the colors after the shots. I felt so dirty!

—

Sabrina: While everyone else gets some kick ass costume… Mine is literally a green bodysuit. It’s like the one they used for Hagakure in My Hero Academia. And when I’m visible, I look like fucking Silver Surfer! *laughs*

—

Corsette: *Recording on their phone* Observe the blonde gremlins in their natural environment. *Points their phone towards the blonde in the dance studio*

Austin A: And… *Swaying his hips* Sashay. Sashay. *Notices the others aren’t following him* I said SASHAY!

Adrien: What is this even for?

Austin A: Because I felt like forming a blonde dance crew.

Chloé: Dude! Lead with that!

Rose: And you’re working those hips wrong! Watch and learn, Armbruster!

—

Nino/Lila: *Getting their makeup done* Scar Twins, bitches!

—

Ivan: Fun fact, Stoneheart was actually me in a green body suit and everything I threw was made of Styrofoam. Super easy to lift.

Myléne: It was a pretty complicated scene when Stoneheart kidnapped Chloé and I. There were different wires, a mechanical arm, all that jazz.

Chloé: But the thing that wasn’t fake was me getting thrown! It was fucking awesome!

Ivan: Uh! Let’s not forget to add that there was an abundance of airbags below you.

Chloé: Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I had so much fun, I actually went skydiving after the shoot.

—

Denise: So, I’m the cast’s unquestioned fitness guru, meaning I help to keep ‘em in shape. Each character has certain muscles the fandom likes to obsess over. Take Nath’s legs for example.

Nathaniel: *Incoherrent yelling as he crushes a watermelon between his thighs* DIE, YOU WATERMELON! *The watermelon gets crushed* YEAH! GIMME A PUMPKIN NEXT!

Denise: Fans are also pretty obsessed with Marinette’s biceps.

Marinette: *Deadlifting a couch* No one! Stop me!

Denise: And Ismael and Nino like to work out to build muscle and look a bit more masculine.

Nino: *Spotting Ismael* Who’s the manliest man?!

Ismael: I am!

Nino: Who’s gonna punch the transphobes?!

Ismael: I AM!

Denise: We have fun. But remember, it’s important to feel comfortable in your own body.

—

Cosette: I’m sure you can tell that Jean’s excited for the upcoming musical numbers.

Jean: *Running around the studio screaming*

Cosette: *Chuckles* I can tell ya, he’s gonna sleep well tonight… Did I mention I’m getting a girlfriend?

—

Lacey: I’m pretty stoked I’m gonna have a big role in Riposte. In the original show, you see me as one of the students trying out for the team, but of course… No lines.

Nathaniel: Well, I’m nervous as hell. I’ve only been practicing fencing for a short time, but I’m still nowhere good.

Kagami: This is why we practice on weekends, Nath. And you’re getting better, so stop putting yourself down.

Nathaniel: Never!

—

XY: *Spooning with Luka and Adrien* We’re rehearsing.

Rose: But this scene isn’t for like another… Thirty episodes-

Adrien: Hush, demon! This is a private rehearsal! *Kisses XY’s neck while Luka nuzzles against his back*

—

Simon: *Having his makeup done while he sits in Denise’s lap* Here’s a fun little tidbit for you guys. A lot of my Gaeilge is unscripted. Yeah, when I have my little angry moments, I can’t help but curse in my native tongue.

Denise: The only thing I understand is ‘shite.’

Simon: And I don’t understand a lick of Spanish. We’re perfect for each other!

—

Reshma: The design team will be incorporating my character’s interest in magical girl anime and anime in general into my clothing, so Sailor Moon jewelry, My Hero Academia bags, Princess TuTu hair accessories, and my true favorite, a Revolutionary Girl Utena jacket!

Ismael: *While Reshma happy flaps* While she’s excited about that, I’m excited about getting some new cardigans. I mean, who doesn’t love a cardigan?

—

Cosette: *Live streaming Nino and Myléne meditating* They’ve been like this for two hours now. Tell me, guys. Should I call for help?

Nino: … *Snores*

Cosette: Oh, thank God!

—

Marc: I’ve gotta say, it’s nice not having to pretend to be shorter than I actually am. It was messing up my back, I… I don’t know why they didn’t just give other characters platform shoes.

Denise: But on a lighter note, Marc keeps bumping into a bunch of stuff! *Cackles* It’s hilarious!

Marc: I’m so used to slouching! *Storms out of the room and bumps into the doorframe* Damnit! Stupid low doorframe! Who needs a door that small?!

Denise: If you’re wondering, Marc and I are both 206.5 centimeters and the doorways here are like 200 centimeters.

—

Ismael: And we’re back to another screening of “Tall People Problems!”

Cosette: Watch Reshma struggle to sit in that chair. *Points her phone toward Reshma with her legs at an awkward position while she’s sitting*

Reshma: … Ugh! *Tucks in her legs* … Forget it. *Sits on the floor*

Ismael: Tragic, isn’t it? Now let’s see how Denise is faring.

Cosette: *Points phone over to Denise, right as they bump into an exit sign*

Denise: ¡Mierda!

Cosette: *Snickers* And now, our favorite subject. Marc Anciel. A young man who just won’t admit he’s taller than a standard doorframe. *Points phone to Marc*

Marc: *Walking off set and comes across the door* … Not this time. *Ducks under the doorframe* HA! I did it- OW! Why is there another door?!

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cornerverse · 2 years

Photo

Chaos Children Round 1!

So. Did I recently fall into bnha hell? Am I already preparing a long au of ‘Canon divergent self-indulgence’? Am I staring at this as I type to post and seeing all my flaws? Yes! Yes I am!

Time for notes on everyone because I always do that!

Izuku:

Baby! His hair is so fluffy in Canon and my style includes making it even fluffier! Trust me this is tamer than I could have gone. Also rip because I wish I had a more cool-toned brown warm toned browns make him look slightly carrot-y. I adjusted best I could but..... eh it matches his fursona.

Bakugo:

Look. LOOK. If y’all know me, you saw it coming that this is my favorite character. Yes. Yes. I know. I just. I love the angry shouty ones that need some fucking help. What do you mean ‘how’s that gifted kid burnout treating you?’?

Todoroki:

I want you to know that sketching him took so long for me be cause no matter what I did he kept turning out like Zuko. And that’s before I even added the scar because that was done during the coloring phase!! I tried making him more square which I think worked and makes sense given other character design.

Kirishima:

My head blasts ‘Baby Shark’ every time I see him because he is baby and he is shark. Absolutely fuck his hair though. He probably just spends every morning hung upside down with a can and a half of hairspray.

Uraraka:

Also baby! I know people have made the Kirby joke but yes. Round and pink and can kick your ass! Love her!

Mina:

Love her too! Love the energy! And judging by her Hero Costume, she shares my adoration of patterns that look like a bowling alley carpet!

#bnha #izuku midoriya #katsuki bakugo #shoto torodoki #eijiro kirishima #ochako uraraka #mina ashido

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flyboy-and-fight-me · 3 years

Text

[Angy Ahsoka Noises]

Bad padawans get rolled up in carpet jail.

This seems like something Obi-Wan used to use on feral baby Ani when he first came to the temple, and since Ahsoka can’t keep her chompers off of master Fisto’s pet space jellyfish she gets the carpet prison

#how do y’all like my carpet designs #tcw #the clone wars #star wars #star wars the clone wars #ahsoka #ahsoka tano #jedi #the jedi temple #art #tcw art #art shitpost ing #star wars art #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #clone wars art

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sojuseoltang · 2 years

Note

hiii can you pls make a sunghoon nsfw a-z? 🥰🥰🥰

There u go baby <33

Sunghoon nsfw a-z

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Very chill. Imagine this. It’s a late morning on a free day. You and Sunghoon just fucked. After both of you reach your heights you just lie in the morning-light flooded room, on the bed, staring at each other between white sheets. You lie on his chest and your thumbs draws circles on his collar bone while his hand is softly stroking your arm, sharing some intense eye contact that occasionally gets disturbed by both of you smiling and lowering your eyes. I don’t think there’d be much actual aftercare but I also don’t think either of you’d need it.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I’m a firm believer that he’s a boob man. My man just likes titties. Squeeze them, suck on them or lay his head on them. It’s all great to him.

On himself I’d say perhaps his hands? Were all in the know about his hands being delicate, beautiful works of art and seeing them dance across your body would be spectacular. Also I think he’s good at fingering don’t tell anyone tho

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

As a designated clean boy™️ I think he likes to keep it tidy. Wants to cum on a surface easily cleanable. So I’d say if you’d let him cum inside of you he’d be over the moon but if you don’t any other place is a-okay with him aswell (cough tits cough)

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Probably just everyyyythinggg slightly out of the ordinary that’s sexual. I think he has a lot of shame regarding that topic and you’d have to teach him that there’s nothing wrong with it. I’d take a while to get him to properly open up.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Hmmmmmm :/ On one hand I want to say very experienced as he is an extremely attractive ex- professional athlete and let me tell you from personal experience: athletes fuck. But on the other hand Sunghoon is such a reserved little angel? I mean he used to be basically alone all the time cause he was socially not super integrated and if he didn’t really have friends I’d say having sex is even less likely? Gonna have to pull the idk card on that one 🤷‍♀️

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Sunghoon likes it when you ride him. Point blank period.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

I think fucking Sunghoon would always be a healthy mix of serious and awkward but generous laughs. I’d feel good. And authentic. I doubt he’s as stern as a brick or super goofy it’s always something in between.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I like to believe he’s bare shaved cause I like it like that but realistically speaking he probably trims & that’s it. Very clean tho.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Whenever you and him get down to it there’s this certain energy you’d feel in the air. It might not be completely serious of something but there’s always this intimate spark. It would feel as if you were the only two people in the world and time would just stop

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Barely. Again I feel like he’s a bit ashamed, also I just don’t feel like he has the urge to jerk off a lot? When he does he’s beautiful and pathetic tho

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Soooo I kinda head cannon Sunghoon as a sub? I mean his ideal type is Irene there’s no way he doesn’t like getting dominated. But for the sake of not being too judgmental and also for self-indulgence I say switch but soft!dom:

Mommy kink

Choking kink (receiving and slight giving)

Marking kink (giving and receiving)

Body worship (giving and strong receiving)

Biting (giving- y’all seen those vampy teeth?)

Addition: also wouldn’t mind you trying some wax play and light bondage on him 👀

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Bed. Comfortable and private. Why would you feel the need to fuck anywhere else?

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Being nice to him? I know that’s lame but I see Sunghoon as someone who’s like “wow this person really loves and cherishes me let me give them my heart- and my dick”

Alternatively: often sexually associated actions like sucking on a lollipop, biting your lip, staring up at him,… would do it for him too I guess 🙄

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

As much as I know y’all love that gimmick, I think Sunghoon’s willingness to be sexually experimental would end at something like getting pegged

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Prefers giving, even if he’s not great at it at first. It all ties into the being embarrassed thing and receiving oral he wouldn’t be able to hold back his noises which would get him sooo shy :((

I do think once you’re at a place where he’s more comfortable he’d like getting sucked off a lot, maybe even more than giving oral. He doesn’t want to admit that he actually really enjoys receiving, but you like to pleasure him anyways and it turns out nice.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Messy, definitely messy. I don’t think he’d have a set pace? He’d do whatever you’d want him to, or at least try to.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Not a fan. Baby don’t like being stressed. Even when you’d have sex in a setting that wasn’t super common for the both of you he’d still want to have enough privacy to be able to take his time which ties directly into:

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Not really a super big fan but maybe more than you’d think? To be clear I highly doubt that Sunghoon would want to fuck somewhere where you could get caught at any moment, but having like a free half an hour before he needs to perform to lock yourselves in the dressing room I mean 👀

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

I mean he used to be a professional athlete. I’m thinking he’s definitely got something in him. I’ll say 2-3 rounds average.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

There’s no way he owns toys c’mon. He’d be super fascinated to see yours tho and might even develop a new kink watching you use them on yourself.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not a big teaser but I think he enjoys some lighthearted being annoying. When he’s about to eat you out and he purposely doesn’t go where you need him to go but keeps kissing your thighs and looking up at you and you’re just like !! bitch !! and he laughs

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

I think he’s loud 😩 I mean I like to think that. A moaner and whiner is imagine.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

I can imagine him in a choker very well. All dressed up. Your pretty baby. Occasionally you’d pull on the leather around your neck, making him look up at you with his wet brown siren eyes

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Has a pretty dick. Come on. With the way the rest of him looks there’s no way he doesn’t have a pretty dick. He’s a little above average and slim but not too slim.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Not super high? I think for him I’d be a sensual thing. Whenever he feels specifically loved by you he’d wanna have sex. To me he feels like the least horny out of the hyung line but do with that information what you want

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I think he’d wanna stay awake for a while to talk to you and exchange some sensual touches. He’d want you to call him a pretty boy (and he would obviously give it back as he is a polite gentleman) and play with his hair and after a while of just enjoying each other’s presence you might doze off in each other’s arms.

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enha #enha smut #park sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon #park sunghoon smut #Sunghoon #Sunghoon smut #enhypen Sunghoon smut #Sunghoon enhypen smut #enha Sunghoon #kpop smut

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charlottemount · 2 years

Note

Hi, love ur fics. Can you do a hector bellerin imagine where you're also a famous actress and you're trying to keep the relationship ship a secret but eventually go public on the red carpet snd its super cute and stuff

RED CARPET — Héctor Bellerín

summary: when y/n and hector decided to go public with their relationship after more than a year of dating in the premiere of her new movie

warning: english is not my first language

hectorbellerin ✓

Liked by rlc and 2.581.721 others

hectorbellerin A little moment just for mi alma

View 1.460 comments

4emone You’re so good at art Hector!

manilla I wonder who is she? 👀

lukedaily__ What am i have a feeling that you having a good time with her

djuio Are you dating a famous actress name Y/n Y/l/n?

katherinie_ @djuio ? What are you talking about??

djuio @katherinie tf you don’t know her?

katherinie I know her but maybe he's not dating her

djuio So you probably haven't seen her post 2 days ago 👁

katherinie What post? I didn’t even follow her

_y/user.name ✓

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_y/user.name I found this cat at his house, mi rey 🤴🏻

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maddisonbeer ✓ She’s cute tho

_y/user.name ✓ Like me 😉

maddisonbaileybabe ✓ So are going to tell use who are you dating? Or are you gonna freaking keep it secret until you two have kids together?

_y/user.name ✓ Mad chill chill 🌬 I will invite y’all to my birthday party and ofc will introduce him to you all so don’t worry!!

maddisonbeer ✓ We have to wait until your birthday?

drewstarkey ✓ 🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻

_y/user.name ✓ Drewwww 🖕🏻🖕🏻

lalalalove_rew I really hate this, either it's public or it's hidden from anyone who you're dating

sjjuk_ @lalalalove_rew She’s dating @hm_son7

friendd.s @sjjuk_ Nope you’re wrong, she definitely dating Héctor

lalalalove_rew Oh wow how are you so sure about that?

gghad_ Hector Bellerin in the background?

garrettleight ✓

Liked by hectorbellerin, _y/user.name and 98.025 others

garrettleight The limited edition HÉCTOR x Y/N is here!

Couples-only limited edition, designed by @hectorbellerin and @_y/user.name

The lenses are craft with an oleophobic coating that keeps them free of smudges, water and sunscreen.

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hectorbellerin ✓ 🔥🔥

_y/user.name ✓ 💎

hector__b Couples only limited edition, i think they're starting to make their relationship public

culter_t Okay to be honest, i love this collection of hector x y/n 😎

voguemagazine ✓

Liked by jhenderson, _y/user.name and 20.311.782 others

voguemagazine Héctor Bellerín, a Spanish professional footballer who plays for Real Betis appeared with the famous actress Y/n Y/l/n in the premiere of the movie “Fresh”, whereby we had a small interview with this couple.

“ Q: Are you two really dating? According to what the fans predicted, they suspect that you two are in a relationship

Héctor: Yea, actually we are in a relationship

Y/n: We've been dating for about half a year

Q: So a few days ago we asked the fans to ask some questions for us to ask both of you, so can I ask you a few questions about your relationship as well as share a little bit about it?

Héctor: Sure

Y/n: Of course

Q1: This question is from Ade**09 “I want to ask Héctor what is his favorite part about Y/n?”

Héctor: As for me, I love everything about Y/n, but to be specific about what I love, I'll say her personality, you know she's always cheerful, all the time. Since the day i know her, date her and until now, I rarely see her complaining or carrying negative energy

Q2: This question is for Y/n, “I want to ask why you and Héctor decided to keep this relationship a secret until now”

Y/n: If you ask about this, I would like to answer that because we feel uncomfortable going public with our relationship too soon, and we also decided to make this relationship public if our relationship workout beautifully. We also don't want to make our fans have some hope and then extinguish it.”

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my.y/nbellerin_ Love this couple!

pleass_er I love themmm

_y/user.name ✓

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_y/user.name Hector's 101 expressions, expression #1: i want you to spend the night with me, baby plss 😂

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madelyncline ✓ Is sleeping for a night really sleep or is it something else

_y/user.name ✓ Hohoho 🎅🏻

rlc ✓ His face is so fcking funny 😆

_y/user.name ✓ And kinda cute

hectorbellerin ✓

Liked by masonmount, _y/user.name and 874.026 others

hectorbellerin ♥️

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_y/user.name ✓ Baby i miss you so much 😩

hectorbellerin ✓ 😩😩

20march_01 Such a beautiful couple

blueza I want to be her, to be his girlfriend or maybe his future wife 🤤

y/n.hector Keep dreaming @blueza, no chance for you to date or be his wife cause he didn’t even know who you are, i know it’s sad but it’s true

blueza 🥲🥲

#football imagines #football fanfic #hector bellerin fluff #hector bellerin imagine #hector bellerin x y/n #hector bellerin #hector bellerin x reader #hector bellerin imagines #ben chilwell imagine #mason mount x y/n #ruben loftus cheek x reader

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savorysatori · 3 years

Text

— 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘. ✗

“choke me, spank me, look at me, thank me.”

— sypnosis: working as a maid in a new house is very exciting, you get the money and everything goes well. although, once you’re introduced to the son of the parents, everything goes down hill.

cw, warning: size kink (?), creep!ushi, pictures without consent, nipple play, gn!reader, non-con, somnophilia, sloppy sex, dry humping, praise, panty stealer ushi.

% wc: 2234.

↷ a/n: y’all have no idea how long this was sitting in my drafts, for fucking 5 weeks plsssss- anyways I hope you all enjoy! this was rlly fun to do. also! shoutout to daisy, this collab was really cool! congratulations on 1K bb. <//3

— @daisy-bakugo, PORNSCAPE EVENT! ilyy.

You were everything he wanted, everything he fantasized about.

[1,000.]

That’s how much they were paying.

It was enough to have you accept the job immediately. It was enough to have you choose between two of the slightly revealing maid dresses and enough for you to be standing in front of the wakatoshi mansion. Briefcase in hand with a bucket of supplies you were instructed to bring. Everything was just right, you were prepared to clean, everything would go well.

The frilly material of the skirt swayed around your thighs and glided against the softness of your thigh-highs. Glistening jewels of your gold bracelets glimmering in the hot sun shining down on your skin. The thin line of thread held up the damp clothes, shredding any of the excess water soaked into them. All of the Wakatoshi’s clothing were fancy. Gold lining stitched in the middle or at the end of the cloth, it was clear they were wealthy. But, it somehow amazed you when your eyes glided to the very end of the line — some shirts & shorts were childlike. Pictures of guns and cars were painted onto a black shirt, it looked like something a 5th grader would do. ‘Maybe they had a child?’ You didn’t know, you only met the parents. Folding up the dry ones, you’d stuff them into the cart and push them towards the other line of clothes swishing in the breezy wind.

You finished doing the daily chores, slipping into their kitchen that was designed well with a beautiful interior. Cold marble was felt up against your skin as you tipped the bottle of wine into your glass, clacking against it. Your glossy lips propped up against the cup and took small sips of the fruity flavor. It slid down your throat and surged a zing of bitterness back up to take in the taste, so sweet and yet so unpleasant at the same time. You’d lick the juice off your lips and place it down steadily on the counter, looking up to see a heady gaze sharped on you.

6’2 and steady build towering over you with dark olive hair — was the wakatoshi’s son. Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Your body stayed still, unmoving. He wasn’t anywhere near a 3rd grader - more like a full grown adult. Tongue peeking out from your teeth to lick the dryness seeping between the cracks, your eyelids hooded.

“Uh- Hello! You must the wakatoshi’s son, I’m the new maid.” Extending your hand out to meet his; his hand stayed at his side, not seeming to shift to engulf yours. You’d drop it back beside you and nipped at your lip when the silence between you both continued.

“Well, I’ll see you around. Nice to meet you.. Ushijima! Your parents told me about you.”

You’d excuse yourself away from his intimidating gaze and close the door behind you. Maybe it’s a good idea to introduce myself another time.

The same look from before followed you out of the kitchen, watching you as you’d take up the laundry basket. His eyes kept gawking at your every move. Staring with every bit of emotion nobody could decipher, Toshi wasn’t a very talkative man and it was visible. He situated himself in the shadows and looked from above, staying out of any scandals his parents were exposed to. He did keep his eye on you. Stepping out of his secure area and making every note to try and approach you without seeming like a creep. His creep intentions did creep up back into his system when you started staying at his house, sleeping in a guest room 8 feet away from his room. It was easy; so easy to sneak into it when the moon raised in the dead of night.

Soft thuds of his feet against the carpet thankfully didn’t alert anyone, giving him the time to steal peeps at your sleeping state. Comforter pulled up. Oversized shirt to cover up the intimate parts of your body he dearly wanted to explore. Soft breaths left your pink lips to breathe it in again, his cock stirring at the sound of it. Toshi knew what was right from wrong, he knew that doing something like this would cost his life — but, dear god you were everything he dreamed of. He couldn’t stop now.

His calloused hands raised the shirt for him to be able to see your tummy, sliding his fingers down to the waistband of your panties. They were so simple and adorned your skin beautifully, keeping the heat between your legs warm just for him. His free hand unzipped his jeans and let them pool at his ankles, such as his boxers. You stirred slightly at the foreign touch, brows creasing forward. He stilled until you relaxed back into slumber, his fingers separated your thighs, and slowly slid the oozing head of his cock between them.

“Ah, princess, f-fuuck.” breath ragged, eyes shut closed to take in the bliss. Contentment streamed through him, his hips rocking against you to feel more, more of you. He was greedy. Toshi was insatiable, he wanted everything of you. He didn’t just want — he needed you. It was a plea. A whine for you, a need. The selfishness ran through his family, that’s how he inherited it. From his family. Was he ashamed? No. Not when you felt so good right now, not when he was about to reach the orgasm he was climbing to.

Sweat fanned down his toned chest, abs glistening with droplets of precipitation. His hips rocked forward one last time, cum spurting from his head and between the soft flesh of your thighs. It was sticky and slimy, rolling down to cover every little spot.

The sight of you sleeping soundly while his cum leaked from between your thighs, made the flaccid touch of his cock stir. You were just so pretty, a pretty little something he wanted to scoop up for himself. And he would do it with no trouble whatsoever. His hand slid down to grab his phone from the floor, lying face down. Toshi aimed right in the frame, snapping a picture for later. He stuffed it into the back pocket of his jeans and scurried away from your room, not bothering to clean up the mess of his dry cum smeared on you.

Pressing the ‘start’ button you watched the clothes in the machine swirl with bubbles of soap clouding over them. One hand on the machine and knocking it occasionally to make it turn on again. “Barely working.” You’d mutter.

Despite the Wakatoshi’s being filthy rich, their laundry room wasn’t at all cooperative. There were brown pieces of wood peeling off the wall with stains of what seemed to look like dry substance splattered on it. A bunch of plastic bags and socks were pushed to the corner of the room, dirty ones to be exact. Not much laid in the room other than the things you had listed — except for the posters of lewd manga hanging from the cluttered shelves.

The cool air of the basement door opening brushed up against you, your eyes drifting to see who it was. Standing there was Toshi. He was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday. His expression was the same as always, stern and uninterested. You were both met with the silence from yesterday, uneasiness creeping up back to you.

Bothering not to talk, you turned back to the machine to see it at twenty-one minutes. It was almost done and you could leave to wrench away from the awkward silence you were sitting in. You could still feel his presence, you knew he was there and it was uncomfortable. So many questions were left unanswered in your head, you couldn’t understand them.

The back of your skirt was flipped up to meet your back, his clothed length pressed against you. He was hard. There was no doubt he wasn’t big, and that was what made your eye sockets almost swell out. He slowly rocked the fabric of your panties along with his bulge. Fingernails digging into your hip and pushing you up more to gain more access and spread your legs.

“Ushijima-“ words of confusion scrabbled out from your mouth quickly, “w-what are you doing?”

“Shh.” He jabbed the curve of your back and made you lay pressed against the cold exterior of the rattling washing machine. His words flustered you, it provoked you to stay quiet. You had never heard his voice before and a situation like this only shook your brain into a deeper hole of complication. “J-Just — let me do this, let me try it out. Once.”

And you did. You let him try it just once, you let him delude into the fantasy he had been dreaming of. You let him do it. Once.

You calmed down from the aftershock of his tongue sending you to see stars, arms jerking when the feeling of his hot touch pressing your face against the door of the machine. Your fingers tightening around the handle and pulling on it slightly, cheeks swelling up with heat. The sounds of your whimpers and tiny jolts sent him to push along more, arm encircling around your stomach, his voice breathy against the shell of your ear. You were like a succubus, a being he couldn’t leave nor escape, so alluring, sweet and he had just met you not too long ago.

The smack of his cock meeting his stomach caused you to crank your head back, looking over to see a beautiful sight. Ushijima’s cock was thick, curving gently upwards. The skin was a light shade of cream, and the head was large, pink, expanding tip. “Ushi-“ your voice was wavery, unsure paring with it.

He’d shush you again, angling your leg up as his lips pressed a kiss to your glistening cunt. Toshi took notice of your expressions when he slid into the warmth delves; brows creased together and little words scampering out from your lips. Latching onto the handle and pulling it ever so often when he hit a certain spot, whenever the tip of his cock caressed against your cervix- it was so beautiful seeing you be reduced to a quivering, blubbering mess. A surreal sight he would only see.

“You’re so damn tight. So wet, so willing.. just like that baby.” The pump of his hips made you lose yourself over and over again, a mixture of sounds that were all kinds of slobbery and slurred due to your dizziness. His pace picked up with renewed energy, slick and wet sounds fill the air, sweaty bodies clamping against each other. The whines and pants of his name being drowned out, so pathetic- clinging to the latch and crumbling under his touch. It drove him like a mad man, his brain clattering, the way you took him in with no problem amazed him, you were so inviting and supple.

“S’too b-big! Ushi- ah! -“

The whines of him being too big impaled itself into his brain, your shivering body and cunt wrapped around all together had already made him blank out, now with your pleas, it caused a switch in his head to flip and jack-hammer himself into you. Pump after pump. It made your eyelashes flutter with droplets of tears risking to stream down the fat of your cheeks. His hands holding you firmly, brows furrowed with grunts flowing into your right ear. A grunt rippled from him as his cock throbbed harshly inside you, the feeling making him come undone right there.

“Just like that, ah, fuck you make me feel so good.”

Wrinkled skirt falling to the floor, his cock pulling out of you slowly with globs of cum dribbling out of you, he’d shuffle around till you faced him fully now with a perplexed look on your face. The shirt becoming loose as Toshi’s lips wrapped around the sensitive nipple, suckling and easing any leftover moans out from your throat. His hands placing you on the machine and attaching his lips back onto your nipple, tongue flat against your sweaty skin.

“Fuck, U-Ushi! holy- fuck, just like that.” Your back straining as you leaned back, gasping and threading your fingers through his hair to balance. Toshi wasn’t one with words, his statue being quiet and still. But, words poured out from his lips at the sound of your moans, when you were so good for him.

“So, good.. pretty. pretty, like a beauty.” He pulled off of it with a squelch, standing up high and cupping your chin to stare in your love drunk eyes. “You were so good for me, yeah?”

You nodded, vision hazy and eyes occasionally blinking to peer up at him with a blurry image. Your head rested in the crook of his neck, sniffling as he picked up the soiled panties from the floor and stuffed them into his back pocket. They were red and pink, swirly designs on them, he found them so cute. He slid your legs around him and walked out of the room, leaving the washing machine to rattle in the background with soap and water overflowing onto the ground.

Ushijima just couldn’t leave you after that day, he stuck to you like glue. Who could blame him? You were everything he wanted, everything he had fantasized about.

#ushijima x reader #ushijima smut #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #pornscape collab!!👒#cw noncon #cw somnophilia #cw size kink

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chloe-the-ice-queen · 3 years

Text

This Doesn’t Mean We’re Friends - Ch. 2

Hey guys! Another chapter done and posted, I hope y’all enjoy it!! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, I probably won’t cap it unless I really need to :)

First | Previous | Here | Next

Marinette and Chloe rode in the Bourgeois limo from Marinette's bakery to the Grand Paris. Chloe filled her in on what to expect and what to do. "I'll be with you most of the time, so I can tell you who to steer clear of, and who you should try to talk to. I'll try to introduce you to a few people I know would be interested in your designs. You made that dress, right?"

"Yeah, designed and created it from scratch." Chloe eyed Marinette's dress appreciatively. It was tastefully made, the dark blue complementing the girl's dark hair and bluebell eyes. The top was halter-style, with a high neckline and no sleeves. It fit Marinette's form, with rhinestones glittering on her torso. The bottom half of her dress was long and elegant, falling loosely to the floor, the front hem higher than the back, showing off Marinette's silver heels. It wasn't half bad.

It was actually quite impressive, as most of Marinette's designs were. She had upgraded from her normal pink capris and grey cardigan outfit after Lila had come back to school, transitioning to a more stylish, modern look. But this dress was nothing less than gorgeous on the small girl, but wasn't overly classy and overdone like some dresses she was sure to see throughout the night. It looked nice, but it didn't look like she was showing off, which Chloe could appreciate.

Chloe herself wore a sleek, sleeveless yellow dress that highlighted her fair skin and bright blue eyes. Chloe's hair flowed freely around her shoulders, curled and styled, while Marinette had hers up in an elegant bun, with loose curls framing her face. Together, the two girls contrasted each other, but the stark differences went well together.

As they pulled up to the front of the hotel, paparazzi and reporters swarmed the red carpet, bombarding the famous partygoers.

"They shouldn't be too interested in us, but just ignore them." Chloe advised Marinette, before opening her door and sliding out of the car. Marinette slipped out behind her, adjusting to the flashing of cameras and the buzz of conversation. She shut the door behind her, and joined Chloe in walking up the front steps.

Just going to the event was sure to bring her some recognition, especially accompanied by Chloe, but she wasn't too worried about being bombarded by paparazzi. Only a few reporters bothered them, and as instructed, Marinette tuned them out.

Once they entered the ballroom, the chatter became more of a dull roar. Chloe greeted a few people mingling just inside the doorway, before they were accosted by a very familiar voice. Adrien, who was dragging a disgruntled Lila along behind him. "Hey guys! It's nice to see you here!" Adrien enthused.

"I'm sure." Chloe said, unamused. "Now if you don't mind, we need to-"

"I thought that you could introduce us to some of your friends here, Chloe. That way Lila can make some new friends-" Adrien interrupted. Lila suddenly looked interested in their conversation.

"Well, since we know how many connections Lila has, I'm sure she doesn't need me to introduce her to anyone." Said Chloe.

"Don't be like that Chl-"

"Chloe!!" Someone near them half shouted, turning the heads of people around them. A boy around their age was walking over to them, waving. "I wasn't sure if you'd come or not. It's been a while."

"Henri!" Chloe said, looking entirely amused. "I haven't spoken to you since that party in London."

"I doubt either of us will ever be invited to that again." Henri said, making Chloe laugh. Now that he was closer, Marinette studied him. He was very handsome, objectively, of course. The kind of easy beauty that makes you want to laugh or cry. He had dark brown curls, and kind brown eyes that sparkled with amusement. When he glanced at her, she felt her face flush a little. Chloe and the stranger, Henri, traded stories and jokes for a minute, while the other three observed. Adrien seemed to recognize the newcomer, and Lila was waiting for her chance to jump into the conversation.

"Now," his voice was quieter, teasing, but making sure the other three heard him as well. "You should introduce me to your very pretty friend here. I don't believe I've seen her at any of your events before." He smirked at Chloe, who rolled her eyes.

"This is-"

"Lila, nice to meet you." The green eyed girl said, sticking out her hand, which he ignored, looking at her with annoyance and slight disbelief, if Marinette had to guess.

Chloe seemed taken aback, "This is Marinette, an amazing up-and-coming designer who my mother and Gabriel Agreste have both scouted for their brands." She turned to Marinette, "This is my friend Henri, his parents are both models and his mother is a designer my mother has collaborated with. I'm sure the two of you have quite a lot in common, so why don't we go find a table to chat?"

"Why don't we come with you? You know that I happen to be friends with quite a few designers and models myself, I might be able to give some input." Lila said, while Adrien, who had been looking angry at Chloe, perked up.

He and his date began to follow the trio, when Chloe said, "Sorry, you two, but my mom reserved a table just for three. And I'm sure Lila can get you guys seats next to someone much more important anyways." She grabbed Marinette and pulled her along with her to a table near the front, Henri following behind them.

"Adrien's gotten worse since last time." The boy remarked as they sat down.

Marinette looked at him disapprovingly, when Chloe responded, "I agree. I thought it was just because of his dad, but his social skills have somehow become even worse since he started going to school."

Marinette looked surprised. Probably because she felt surprised. Didn't Chloe like Adrien? Wasn't he her best friend? Maybe they had a falling out, or maybe Chloe had stopped liking Adrien for the same reason Marinette had. Whatever the case, they could all agree on one thing.

"That girl is nasty." Henri said. "Do you know her?"

Marinette and Chloe looked at each other. "Unfortunately," Chloe supplied. "She's in our class."

"Ah, my apologies. Anyways, it's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Marinette. If you're as good as Chloe said, I'm sure I'll be seeing you around more."

Marinette smiled as Chloe said, "She is quite talented. She made the dress she's wearing."

The bluenette looked at her shoes under the table. "Ah, an excellent designer then. I'll be sure to mention you to my parents when I get the chance. In the meantime, though, Chloe, I need to be going. I need to talk to a few people before I head out, it was good to see you again."

The three stood, and Henri turned and hugged Chloe, and then turned to Marinette. She smiled. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Henri."

"The pleasure is mine, I'm sure." Henri said, and took Marinette's hand, kissing the back of her knuckles lightly, his eyes teasing. Marinette laughed, blushing slightly.

The trio separated, Chloe pulling Marinette off to meet other people.

Through the entire interaction, two pairs of green eyes watched the small group from across the room. One filled with jealousy, one with annoyance and maybe a little sadness too.

----

Throughout the night, Chloe introduced Marinette to dozens of people. A few designers, models, artists, business moguls, celebrities, you name it. In return, Marinette stayed with Chloe and endured tedious conversations she had to engage in for her parents' sake. Chloe would never admit it, but having the baker girl there was nice, it made the evening slightly less unbearable.

For the bluenette, it was great exposure into the fashion world. She got to meet several of her idols and make connections with influential people. People started to hear about her designs, many of them admired the dress she wore that showcased her budding talent.

Style Queen herself was thrilled to see her there. Chloe had let her mother know who she was bringing once Marinette was invited, of course, but Audrey was still happy to see her favorite young designer.

At the end of the evening, Marinette and Chloe rode back to the Dupain-Cheng bakery together. When the limo pulled to a stop, Marinette started to get out, then paused. "Thank you so much for everything Chloe. I know you don't like me much, but tonight was so much fun and I'm so grateful that you introduced me to so many people. And thank you for inviting me to come with you, even if it was just to tick off Lila." Marinette gushed, honestly honored by Chloe's thoughtfulness, even if it was caused by spite.

"Yeah whatever, you're welcome Dupain-Cheng, this doesn't mean we're friends, okay?" Chloe grumbled.

Marinette smiled. "Good night, Chloe." She closed the door before Chloe could respond, and walked into the bakery.

----

When Marinette went to bed that night, she went to sleep with a happy buzz in her chest, Tikki nestled beside her on the pillow.

Alrighty then, I guess that’s Chapter 2 done! I hope y’all liked it!! And that should also be the end of these super short chapters, the next one will definitely be a lot longer, and will hopefully be posted sometime tomorrow?? I love you guys, thanks for all your support!

@agentofscifi

#miraculous #miraculous fic #marinette #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrien salt #alya cesaire #alya salt #nino lahiffe #lila rossi #lila salt #chloe bourgeois #chloe deserves better #chloe redemption #chloe redemption fic

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 3 years

Text

XX ~ S.S. (Part one: Good Morning)

A/n: Request from this prompt list. (Anon I love you) y’all know me. I didn’t pick. Be prepared for all of these prompts in a mini series because YES.

Request: “...1, 7, and/or 46 for seb” from anon

Word Count: 4200+

MASTERLIST

~ Kiss good morning ~

It was after rehearsals that Sebastian finally found space to get Y/n alone again. He walked next to the team leader, quiet for a moment until they reached the front of the school. Sebastian paused, thinking Y/n was going to head toward the parking lot and being surprised that he turned to the road instead. He was walking. "You're not actually walking home are you?"

Y/n stopped, turning to look at him with amusement. "Does that personally offend you?"

"Yes," Sebastian answered immediately. Y/n scoffed and went to turn away but Sebastian wasn't having that. "Let me give you a ride."

Y/n only turned back to give him a 'absolutely never' look. "Do I look stupid to you?"

"Yes," Sebastian answered without hesitation again. "You're going to turn down my kindness just to walk home? You're wearing a suit Y/n and it's hot outside. You're going to die before you get home. I don't care how close you are."

He... had a point, Y/n couldn't lie. "Fine," he sighed. "But I swear to god no funny business Bas, I don't have time-"

"Funny business?" Sebastian crooned. "I would never." Y/n had to swallow a groan as he got in the car. It was quiet only a second before Sebastian motioned to the radio. "Turn on whatever you want to." Y/n was surprised. He flipped through the stations for a few minutes before he found something he liked. Sebastian shot Y/n a look but the other boy immediately looked out the window. "'Break My Heart' by Dua Lipa huh?"

"It's a great song," was all Y/n said.

Sebastian chuckled. They listened to the song for a while, but only halfway through Sebastian had something else to say. "Mind if we stop by my house really quick? I realized I was heading that way on autopilot, but I need to grab something anyway."

Y/n swallowed. It had been his own fault, not making sure they were going the right way. He'd been thinking too much and had a tendency to forget that people didn't just automatically know things that came so mechanically to him. At this point he'd feel annoying for saying no. "Sure, it's your car."

A smile tugged at Sebastian's lips. Y/n didn't like the implication of the expression after what had been said. Almost like, 'damn right it is.'

They pulled into a very nice estate. For Lima, Ohio, the place almost had a New York vibe - if it hadn't been in the middle of back hill suburbia. "You want to come in with me?" Y/n hesitated only a second before nodding. Why not? He was intrigued what the inside of Sebastian Smythe's house looked like.

The inside looked like the bachelor pad to make all bachelor pads. It was sparsely decorated in bland colors, and neat. It was spacious though, and pretty nice. Most of the walls were just windows, and Y/n briefly wondered if that had been a thing already on the house, or something that Sebastian had renovated. Designs weren't like that in most of Ohio. The upstairs didn't have the same window walls though which was interesting. Obviously one of them had be have been changed, right?

Everywhere Y/n looked it screamed 'single man'. It was kind of impressive.

Y/n leaned against the counter as Sebastian quickly went up the stairs, disappearing into the floor above. Left alone, Y/n wandered a little bit. He crossed his arms over his chest, afraid to accidentally touch anything. He had watched Sebastian take off his shoes, just slipping them off at the door before walking across the carpet - like it was mindless habit. So Y/n had followed suit and was now wandering in his socks, eyes taking in all the books on the shelf in the little front area that was kind of like a living room, and the small kitchen. He paused before slowly moving his hand to the counter, letting his fingers run across the surface. Cool, smooth.

The place was clean. Not in the way that it seemed Sebastian obsessively clean, or like he never made a mess in the house. There was wear and tear hear and there and it was filled out just enough that it was obvious Sebastian lived here. Enjoyed being here. The impression it left was that Sebastian was one of those people who cleaned after himself as he made a mess. Like those people who washed their dishes right after using them and always knew exactly where to put anything - like the second he put down a book he was reading, for example, he placed it on the space it had left on the shelf from where he'd pulled it before.

The impact this had on Y/n was that he smiled, enjoying the aura of the place, but also was terrified of touching anything anyway because he didn't want to ruin Sebastian's seem less system going on. It obviously worked, and Sebastian did a very good job, and Y/n would feel horrible if he messed something up.

Eventually Y/n looked back toward the stairs, his eyebrows coming together. It had been about twenty minutes and Sebastian still hadn't come back down or even said anything. He had just disappeared upstairs and that was it. Y/n hadn't wanted to pry by following him potentially into his room, but now he hovered. There was nothing else to do and boredom was edging at his mind. That mixed with the biting curiosity growing inside of him, it was hard to stay in place. He tried to, he really did, but eventually he gave in and climbed the stairs.

At the top, there were three rooms in a very small, short hallway. Two doors were open, revealing only a fraction of what seemed to be a bedroom. The other room was obviously a bathroom.

Y/n hesitated only a second longer before pushing the ajar door leading to the bedroom open a little wider. If Sebastian wasn't here he would go into the third room, but there was something that felt like crossing a line when it came to a completely closed door - something that intimidated him. Thankfully, he didn't have to go into the closed door. The room he went into had what he was looking for. There stood Sebastian.

Shirtless.

Y/n blushed, freezing solidly. He looked away as Sebastian turned as the sound of the door lightly tapping against the wall as it opened completely. Y/n spent a split second noticing how lived-in the room was. A bit messier than the front room or kitchen. It was a master bedroom, and had a closet and a bathroom as well as a big window that currently had the curtains drawn. The bed was unmade and messy, with maroon sheets and a single pillow even though the bed could have fit two people.

Y/n looked back at Sebastian, wanting to roll his eyes at the smirk that was on the other boy's face. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?"

"Haven't you ever heard of not leaving a guest waiting?" Y/n shot back immediately. Sebastian's hair was wet. Less than it might have been though, as it seemed Sebastian had taken a towel to it, trying to dry it faster. Sebastian ran a hand through the strands, taming them slightly. Y/n immediately thought of his it might feel and had to distract himself. "What happened to you having to get something really fast? It's been twenty minutes. You showered."

Sebastian chuckled, a little sheepish. "Being in a uniform all day isn't sexy after a while," he explained. "It's gross. I always shower after school. And I didn't lie, I came here on autopilot and figured we were close and I wanted to get out of that uniform so-" he shrugged.

Y/n rose an eyebrow. "Are you germaphobic?"

"No." Sebastian laughed and Y/n would lie if he didn't say it was beautiful. "I just don't like being super sweaty, and although the Dalton uniforms look fantastic, they also aren't especially comfortable."

Despite himself, Y/n smiled a little. "Fair enough." He hesitated in the doorway a second as they stood there. It was then that Y/n registered Sebastian wearing not his usual Dalton slacks, but a casual pair of sweatpants. He looks so different without gel in his hair and the uniform on him. So much lighter. Like all that stuff had weighed him down a little. Y/n wondered if it was the aura of responsibility and boredom that naturally came with school that had changed Sebastian just a little. It was well known that the boy was one for jokes and fun and being reckless and irresponsible. He must have been bored out of his mind and agitated beyond belief at school.

Maybe that was why he was such an ass.

Y/n cleared his throat, looking away. "I should be going home now."

Sebastian shrugged. "I mean you don't have to if you don't want to. Let me finish getting dressed and we can go."

Looking back, Y/n rose an eyebrow as he smiled a little. "You're not going to take another half an hour or something to do your hair are you?"

Once again, Sebastian laughed. "No, I'll be down really soon. Right behind you. Promise." Y/n nodded before leaving, quickly moving out of the room and down the stairs. Once there he felt suddenly uncomfortable in his own uniform. He so badly wanted to relax and unwind. He wanted to shower too, and get into something comfy. Being clean and comfortable in a house like this must have been heaven - Y/n could picture why Sebastian would been inclined toward it.

As promised Sebastian was soon downstairs, leaving Y/n very little time to wallow in his itching to settle into this place. He went home and that was the end of it.

For now.

After that, Sebastian started to take Y/n home everyday. Eventually they got comfortable enough with each other that they started to talk on their drive. Y/n learned that Sebastian was a middle child, and several siblings. His parents lived in Paris, but had given him a place to live when he had expressed he wanted to try to go to school in America. His siblings were scattered all over the world, except the youngest who was only ten and still lived with their parents. Sebastian liked living alone, liked being in control of his space and his life like that. Sebastian learned that Y/n was the oldest of a whole gaggle of kids. His birth parents were separated and remarried, and Y/n lived with his mom and step dad and their four kids who were all severely younger than Y/n. His siblings were a bit scattered too, but in chunks. He had the siblings he lived with, and the siblings of his dad's current wife, and then another brother who lived in a different state entirely from his dad's second marriage. The one after Y/n's mom but before the current wife. Apparently his was a bit unhinged.

When Sebastian first shared his appreciation of all the freedom he had, Y/n followed it up with mention that he had very little freedom at all. His parents weren't especially strict just hovered a LOT, leaving him little room to breathe. Y/n remarked on how nice Sebastian's house was, and how he wanted his own house to be like that one day when he moved out. That's what inspired Sebastian to suggest Y/n could start coming over. They could do homework together. Y/n could maybe bring a change of clothes so he wouldn't have tl wear his uniform longer than necessary. This lead to Sebastian picking Y/n up in the mornings too, when Y/n agreed. He left the change of clothes in the back seat.

To say the tension between the boys sky rocketed was an understatement. It didn't only grow, it changed too. Rather than anger and irritation and bedroom eyes - this unknown void of flame you stood at the edge of and looked down into with eyes filled with terror - the energy between them became softer. More like joking and teasing. Almost like friendly banter, but with crooked smiles and knowing looks and inside jokes that were said with flirty tones and lingering touches neither shied away from. Like falling backwards with your eyes close but landing in your bed after only a second of free fall. Less dangerous, and far more just addictive and pleasant. The other Warblers went from desperately wanting to see the explosion and praying they'd fuck to release all the choking tension that followed them everywhere they both ended up, and ended up... genuinely shipping them.

Suddenly everyone was jokingly calling Y/n and Sebastian the Warbler parents. They were a power couple without having ever held hands or kissed or slept together. They were inseparable. A duo. Friends... but lacking any sense of platonicness between them. A lot more fun though, and much more pleasant to be around.

It finally happened once day when they were hanging out after school. Y/n's parents had long since gotten used to him being out very late, and always because he was over at Sebastian's. Right now they sat as the sun set through the windows, shining all around them and coloring everything. Sebastian was quietly watching a show, feet propped up on the coffee table in front of him and his arm draped on the back of the couch, stretching behind Y/n. Y/n sat forward. He had his legs criss-crossed, a laptop on his legs and a notebook propped on the arm of the couch next to him. He was tapping a pencil against his cheek, trying to do homework.

'Trying' being the word because he was having a very hard time actually doing it.

Y/n sighed heavily when his phone started ringing. He pulled the thing out, answering only because he saw it was Blaine. "Hey B, what's up?"

"Okay so I understood the whole missing coffee with me in the mornings now because you got a ride," Blaine went off immediately. "But the fact that you're ditching me for Sebastian Smythe?"

Y/n cringed. So he had finally found out. "Ah, yeah, about that-"

"Are you guys sleeping together?"

"What?" Y/n stood from the couch, moving further into the house. Past the kitchen there was another one of those small hallways that Y/n had first discovered upstairs. It only leas the the back door, but it was enough that Y/n could lean against the wall and have some privacy. "Not that it's any of your business, but no," Y/n finally answered, staying quiet.

Blaine was quiet for a few seconds. "Are you over at his house right now?"

Y/n swallowed, taking breaths through his nose. He never liked confrontation, and being grilled like this was setting him on edge. "Blaine what the hell is going on? Last time I checked I don't answer to you."

Immediately Blaine groaned. "He's bad news Y/n, do not get involved with a man like that! He flirted with me when we first me too. When I told him I had a boyfriend he told me that he didn't care if I didn't. He's a total scum bag."

"A hot scum bag," Y/n mumbled, pouting. He was being a bit childish but it was such a relief to admit it that he didn't even stop himself.

Blaine, who seems to understand the sentiment, sighs a very long time. “Not hot enough to be worth it.”

Y/n snorted in amusement. “Yeah well it doesn’t matter it’s not like that anyway. He hasn’t even made a move on me other than when we sing together and even then I think it’s just because he likes to put on a show to everyone watching. We hang out all the time, and all he does is put his arm across the couch behind me - it’s actually nothing.”

For a second, Blain didn’t say anything. “I don’t know Y/n...”

That pushed a button for Y/n. Why did Blaine feel the need to decide who could and couldn’t be Y/n’s friend? “Look I know you’re not his biggest fan, but you’ve interacted with him what - once? Twice? I think I know him a lot better than you, and I know myself too. I’m not an idiot.”

“I didn’t say you were,” Blaine rushed immediately, his tone dropping as he seemed to be growing irritated too. “You just also might be a little too close to him for this. He’s gonna sleep with you and then leave and -“

“Oh he’s GOING to sleep with me?” Y/n scoffed again, this time with far less lightheartedness about it. “You know what, I appreciate you looking out for me. I do. But don’t worry yourself. I’m not super emotionally involved in this boy, we just hang out okay? You’re not going to have to pretend to beat him up to cheer me up, or pick up all the pieces of my poor broken heart. I’m a big boy - I’ll be fine.”

Blaine sighed, this time short and quiet. “Okay Y/n. I gotta go do homework, talk to you later yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/n grumbled, toe fidgeting with the carpet. The phone call ended and he moved back into the front room. He glared at the computer for a few seconds, unable to do any work. He was now aware of Sebastian’s arm, still stretching behind him, much more than he was before.

“You okay?” Y/n looked over, startled slightly. Sebastian was looking at him with a raised eyebrow. For once he wasn’t smiling. He looked almost serious - enough that it was a little jarring.

“I’m fine,” Y/n reassured. “I just have protective friends who treat me like I’m nine years old or something.” He rolled his eyes. “Like if I want to see a guy I will. Which isn’t even the point - he’s just making assumptions and giving me advice for a situation that isn’t happening.” Y/n pursed his lips, looking away. “I don’t know. Blaine and I used to be super close, but then he left. And.... he changed, and I didn’t. We got coffee together every morning but at most it was small talk - unless some big drama happened or he wanted to rant about Kurt. And it doesn’t help that I’m painfully single-“ Y/n cut off, shaking his head. “Sorry don’t mind me.” He laughed a little at himself.

Sebastian, who was now smiling just a little, dismissed the apology. “No need to say sorry, I love hearing gossip.” Y/n shot him a look and Sebastian chuckled. “Okay okay, jokes aside. If you want someone to talk about, someone to hold over him, score someone and then do it. Don’t stop yourself from doing something just because you want to be polite or whatever - he’s obviously not.”

Y/n smirked, amused at the ease in which Sebastian suggested such a thing. “You say that like I have guys lining up to date me.”

“All you need is one,” Sebastian followed up immediately. He hadn’t missed a single beat.

Raising an eyebrow, Y/n leaned toward him. “And who exactly do you suggest? I don’t have anyone lining up for my attention and-“

Words were lost in Y/n’s throat as Sebastian leaned forward and kissed him. His body reacted immediately, so quick and eager that Y/n was genuinely surprised. It was like a dam had broken - suddenly months of tension and play flirting and going back and forth were surging through hun with force and he was drowning. He was slave to this man, unable to help himself from soaking up every single second he was allowed.

Sebastian seemed completely fine offered every single second currently at his disposal. It was a long time before they finally parted, Sebastian grinning and Y/n barely able to sort his thoughts or even open his eyes. “You’ve always had one, Y/n,” Sebastian reminded softly, his voice still silky smooth but a lot less solid than it usually was.

Y/n looked at Sebastian for a few beats, then swallowed. “Well, if that’s how you want it to go - why don’t you give me something to talk about? Unless a kiss cuts it. I don’t think anyone will be the slightest surprised about that.”

Sebastian’s eyes danced with mischief. “Are you sure?”

Y/n didn’t want to let his thoughts orient themselves so he could answer that. He just kissed Sebastian again, and this time Sebastian let the storm rage. The rest is history.

Waking up in Sebastian Smythe’s bed was next level head spinning regret. Not that Y/n wasn’t extremely glad last night had happened, he just hated to admit it, especially to himself.

He couldn’t wipe the stupid smile on his face. It was so warm and comfortable, unlike anything Y/n had imagined. And Sebastian was good in bed too. But, obviously. No one thought Sebastian Smythe would be bad in bed.

God he couldn’t think. Everything was brighter than he remembered it being yesterday. Had he slept in? Checking his phone revealed that he had woken up the same time he did every morning. 6am, two hours before school. Sitting up also revealed that Sebastian was not in the bed next to him.

Y/n slid out of bed. He had ended up falling asleep with a pair of pajama pants Sebastian leant him. Sebastian apparently showered at night. It was convenient, as Y/n had been invited to join. He had. He wasn’t even ashamed. Should he be ashamed?

Pushing the raging thoughts out of his head, Y/n went downstairs to see where Sebastian had gone. He got about hallways down the steps before smelling the food. His eyebrows arched in surprise as he continued to the lower level, settling on crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Sebastian Smythe of all people. Cooking breakfast.

“How early do you get up?”

Sebastian turned, shamelessly checking Y/n out before responding. By the way Sebastian’s eyes lingered and he swallowed before responding, it could be assumed he was remembering last night as well. “I get up at 4 every morning. It takes effort to look as good as me and I like to have the time. I woke up an hour later today because of you. I’m behind schedule.” He didn’t seem put off though - his eyes shone, smirk edging into grin territory.

Y/n made a sound that was half snort and half laughing, rolling his eyes. He had never seen Sebastian quite like this. More playful and I dare say even adorable. Younger, even. Actually his age, instead of the overly mature college student vibes he usually gave off.

“I’m sorry to be such an inconvenience.” Y/n approached slowly, not sure how to wade through this very new territory.

“Please,” Sebastian dismissed. “After last night the least I can do is let it slide.” He winked. “And make you breakfast. You want some?”

Y/n was surprised once again. This all felt so... domestic, almost. So different from the playboy flirt everyone saw Sebastian as. What even Y/n had thought he’d be. “Sure.”

Sebastian nodded and finished with what he was doing. Y/n could see the packages of most of the food, so it wasn’t made from scratch or anything, but it was eggs, bacon, sausage and pancakes so Y/n could let it slide. A full, proper breakfast played very well and delivered with a glass of orange juice and syrup. “For the pretty boy at the counter. Usually I would insist no shirt, no shoes, no service but for this view... not only do you get some, I’ll hand it over for free.” Y/n laughed as Sebastian walked around the countertop Y/n sat at, on a stool. Soon they were seated right next to each other.

It was a pleasant, quiet meal. Y/n was humming some song he couldn’t remember the title of and Sebastian listened - for once, completely quiet. When they finished Y/n hopped down from the stool, gathering all the dishes and taking them to the sink. Sebastian watched, some unreadable expression on his face.

When Y/n finished, he turned to see Sebastian had moved a lot closer. Now he leaned forward, kissing Y/n like he had yesterday. This time it wasn’t as fast and messy and passionate though. It was soft and slow and even sweet. When he leaned away they were both smiling. “Good morning, Y/n.”

Y/n blushed. “Good morning to you too.” He fidgeted with his hands a second. “I should... get ready.” Sebastian gave him space and Y/n was off. His mind was racing the entire time though. This morning had been so unlike anything Y/n has possible imagine.

Perhaps there was much more to Sebastian Smythe than just what met the eye. Y/n found himself extremely curious and willing to do just about anything to find out.

tag list: @jooniefluff

#glee #glee imagine #glee x reader #grant gustin #grant gustin imagine #grant gustin x reader #sebastian smythe imagine #Sebastian Smythe #Sebastian Smythe x reader #glee x male reader #grant gustin x male reader #Sebastian Smythe x male reader

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dejwrites · 3 years

Note

Are you still taking request? How about fake dating headcanons with Aran and black fem!reader

in which you two are fake dating.

↠ characters: aran ojiro

↠ pairings: aran ojiro x black fem!reader

↠ timeline: aged up!! fake dating!au

↠ warning: nsfw mentioned/applied

↠ a/n: aran aka my fav. i really enjoyed writing these headcanons. tbh, i may write a one shot or drabble dedicate to these. i hope you enjoy it though bestie.

It was extremely awkward the first go around, Aran hated the paparazzi, TMZ, The Shaderoom. He hated it all. He actually hated the whole idea just as much as you did.

You two didn’t start getting used to the fake dating lifestyle until you both entered each other’s world. He sat hours in a recording studio with you, watching you get frustrated when you couldn't hit a note or when a beat to the song was trash. While you went to one of his games, watching him grow annoyed when the other team scored. After those two events, you two were seen as the newest it couple. Camilla and Shawn ain’t got shit on you.

You guys don’t do matching outfits, that’s corny. You do those cute color coordinate outfits though.

Some miserable people could point out that you two weren’t actually dating, claiming that no one ever saw you two kiss each other on the mouth. Only on the cheek, but you had to go on Instagram Live to set the record straight.

“Why do you weirdos want to see us kiss so badly? If you want to see someone kiss so much go watch Too Hot to Handle or some shit. Frankly, it’s really none of y’all business what goes on in my relationship, we’re good over here.” You spat.

That outburst trended on Twitter.

Aran found it so hilarious at your clawbacks at people. He didn’t pay any of it attention. He figured as a black volleyball player that lived in Japan, sometimes you just had to ignore the ignorance.

He is the logic of reason between you two, always rushing to calm you down from said diva moment. You cussed out Kylie Jenner on social media for stealing a black woman’s bathing suit design, who was the one to calm you down? Aran. Maybe that’s why you were beginning to fall for him for real. He was falling for you two.

Atsumu and Osamu didn’t believe Aran when he said he was dating you. Like they needed more proof other than the hand holding and you attending his games. So, when you showed up at the gym that they were practicing at (catching up after not seeing each other in person for years) with your daily lunch you would bring Aran, their mouth hit the floor.

“Guys, please don’t pester my girlfriend.”

“So are you two like dating? Or dating dating?”

“Yes, we’ve been dating for a couple months now.”

When you told Aran you actually liked him, it was deadass two weeks before your publicist was going to announce that you and Aran was going to break up. Putting an end to the publicity stunt. Do you know how stressed your publicist was when you told sis you actually liked him?

Now the two of you are literally some lovey dovey black love couple !!

You visit him as much as you can and go to his games while he come to your concerts.

A LITTLE NSFW FOR YOU.

The first night you two had sex, you had attempted to make it so romantic after a night out for dinner. That was a fail when paparazzi bombarded you two as you left the restaurant. You were so annoyed when you got home, but Aran assured you that the night was wonderful. Kissing you ever so passionately with them wonderful lips of his.

Now that you two are officially dating, PDA Lowkey be happening. From Aran grabbing your ass on the red carpet, to his fingers intertwined with yours as you get out the car together.

He definitely is the type to be in control, especially considering your sometimes diva and outspoken attitude. He’ll have to give you one good fucking before your studio time to ensure you to be happy as hell as you record some songs.

Quickies before his games 🤝 Quickies before your concerts

#haikyu x reader #aran ojiro x reader #black reader #black y/n #anime x black!reader #char: aran ojiro #hc: haikyu #Aran ojiro x black reader

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titan-fodder · 3 years

Text

Prima Vista Part IV

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.6k

Warning: a big helping of abandonment/daddy issues, lots of feelings, explicit sexual content A/N: y’all are gonna be so soft and then so mad lmao.

The plan was to go to Mike's house then back to campus. You said you didn't have anything to do at your mom's, that a long phone call would suffice, which is why Mike is confused when you ask him if you can stop by before going back. It's an hour out of the way, but it's not like he has anything better to do, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious about your humble beginnings.

The house is in a decent-looking neighborhood, small, nearly identical one-story homes surrounded by cracked sidewalks. He has to be careful not to trip as you make your way to the front porch, pots of dead or dying plants along the edges of it. You shove your key into the lock, twist and open, then motion for Mike to follow.

The den is dimly lit, ceiling fan above with only one working bulb. A crime show is playing on the TV but there's no one watching. There is, however, another light pouring from a back room, and as soon as you drop your bag on the couch, a head pokes out from the doorway.

"Baby girl!" A shrill voice cries, and Mike sees you grimace. "I thought you weren't coming by!"

A woman walks into the den wearing long, cotton shorts and an old tie-dye shirt then pulls you into a hug so tight that it makes you cough.

"Mom," you take a deep breath as if to refill your lungs with all the air that was pushed from them. "This is Mike."

He holds out a hand and smiles, but all your mother does is stare with round eyes and blurt, "Oh, he's a big boy."

"My fucking god." You don't yell or whine, just pinch the bridge of your nose and mumble, "Just shake his hand please."

"Sorry, I'm sorry, just was not expecting… You didn't tell me how tall he was."

"'Cause it doesn't matter. Why would I—nevermind," you cut yourself off, face falling flat just like your voice.

Mike isn't sure if he should be flattered or offended or embarrassed, so he just ignores the comment entirely and says, "Nice to meet you."

You make your escape to the back, dragging Mike with you before shutting your bedroom door and leaning against it.

"Mom is a little weird, but you'll always know where you stand with her," you tell him. "Also, sorry about the house. She’s a teacher, so she’s usually pretty beat at the end of the day. Not enough energy to do a lotta cleaning."

"Didn't even notice," he reassures you.

Mike unpacks his bag next to you, and you gather the dirty clothes from both yours and his, balling them up and taking them with you out to the garage to throw into the washing machine. Mike should have done it at his parents', but as you were packing up that morning, his mother got all teary eyed and his dad just kept shaking your tiny hands and telling you to come back, so it just didn’t happen.

Back in the living room, your mom is sitting in an old rocking chair, and Mike thinks you'll take a seat on the adjacent couch, but instead you ask, "You need help with anything? Dishes or vacuuming or somethin'?"

She looks up at you, fly-away hairs sticking out around her temples and forehead and responds, "It'd be nice if you could do the dishes. I just haven't gotten around to it."

"Can do," you nod and walk into the kitchen, opening the dishwasher and making a displeased noise at the dirty plates and bowls inside. There's room for a few more, but once it's full and running, you just clean what's left in the sink by hand. Mike finds a towel, stands next to you, and holds his hand out for every scrubbed dish, drying it and placing it in the rack to hopefully be put up later.

"You hungry?" You ask when you're done and drying your hands. "It's almost one."

"Uh, yeah. I could eat."

Truthfully, he's starving having only had a small breakfast at his parents'. He doesn't want to say that, though, doesn't want you making a big meal for him or apologizing for anything.

"Sandwiches okay?"

Something in your tone has him on edge. Your voice is too quiet, deflecting downward as if you're forcing each word from your mouth.

"Yeah," he nods. "If you get the stuff, I can make 'em." Mostly so that you can relax but also because there's no way he's gonna let you make him a fucking sandwich.

You shrug your shoulders, grab bread, lunchmeat, cheese, and condiments, then say, "You can make ours. I'll make mom's."

He knows he's missing something, but he doesn't know what, and right now he's too afraid to ask.

He eats next to you on the couch, you and your mom watching TV as Mike tries to subtly glance around. Mounted shelves are decorated with dusty, mismatched figurines, cracks opening at the corners where the walls meet the roof. The brick fireplace is stacked high with plastic tubs and books, probably from your mother’s classroom, and the carpet has seen better days.

Mike isn't judging—not in the least—but he has a feeling he knows why being here puts you in a sour mood. The house feels lived in, cluttered and cozy and worn around the edges, but it's still empty somehow.

After the three of you are finished eating, you take the paper plates and dispose of them, then tell your mom that you'll be in your room. She gives you a soft smile that you struggle to return.

It's a little more you in the bedroom, blue walls covered in old posters and collages, a quilt similar to the one in your dorm folded at the bottom of your bed. Your pillow cases are faded and covered in an old flower design that matches your sheets, and there's a small nightstand next to the headboard that's bare on top with wrinkled papers poking out of the bottom drawer.

"It's not much, but if you wanna snoop around like I always do, feel free."

Mike doesn't really want to, especially since you already seem so uncomfortable in what should be a safe space for you. The only thing he feels okay investigating is the old bookshelf next to your closet—mostly YA novels, some poetry books, an old set of The Lord of the Rings series, a textbook over rocks and minerals and another over volcanoes. Tucked away in the bottom shelf is a tiny booklet that looks like a photo album, and Mike has to fight the urge to pull it from its place and flip through the plastic pages. Anything to get to know you better.

You lay in bed, eyes locked on the ceiling, and Mike doesn't know what to do. There's a very small TV sitting on your dresser, an old DVD player next to it, so he figures he'll save both you and himself from talking by picking out a movie.

He fingers through them, not that there's a lot, just skims the spines until he pulls out a copy of Space Jam. You only glance at the screen when the intro starts, and Mike immediately zeroes in on the way your jaw sets and your brows furrow.

"I can pick something else," he tells you quietly.

You take a deep breath and shake your head. Slowly but surely your features begin to soften.

"'S'fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. My, uh…" You swallow loud enough from Mike to hear, neck bobbing with the motion. "My dad and I used to watch it all the time."

He doesn't know what to make of it or how to respond. In the months he's known you, Mike has never heard you mention your father a single time, and he's never asked in fear of what your response might be.

He moves your quilt to sit on the very edge of the bed, a little too tense as he heavily contemplates ignoring what you'd said and still switching movies.

"You can lay down, you know," you mumble. "I'm not gonna bite you."

"You have before," he tries to act casual, but it comes out too stiffly.

You laugh through your nose— "Suit yourself—" then get more comfortable on the mattress.

Michael Jordan gets pulled into a golf hole and the Loony Toons journey to retrieve his shoes from the real world. Mike is barely paying attention, more focused on the way your breathing evens out until it becomes slow and deep.

That's good. You could use a nap.

He watches you for a while, the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks and your lips part. You're all curled up on yourself, hands tucked under your chin, knees to your stomach, and Mike wants to slip behind you so badly, to pull you to his chest and lay with you until his heartbeat syncs with yours.

But first.

As carefully as he can, Mike stands from the bed and glides to the bookcase. He lowers himself in front of it, quickly finding what he's looking for and pulls it from the shelf.

It's a small little album, full of polaroids and old pictures cut in half. The first page sets the tone for the rest of the booklet, a photo of a very small you outside eating a popsicle next to a man that is most definitely your dad. You've got a similar facial structure as well as his coloring. Not to mention the expression he's wearing is one Mike has seen you make many times before.

The next picture is the two of you dressed up for an event. He's in a striped Polo and slacks while you're in a little checkered dress, a rose corsage on your tiny wrist. Some kind of father-daughter dance, Mike guesses.

Sitting on his lap at a fair, a chubby little boy a few years older than you standing close with a stuffed snake around his neck. A party where you're posed with an honestly frightening costume character. You in a bright, mesh jersey standing back to back with your dad, arms crossed, looking at the camera with your chins tilted upward.

They all look like good memories. The little boy in the fair picture appears several more times, and as he loses his baby fat, Mike sees the resemblance he shares with you and your father. It's too close to be a cousin—your eyes and mouths shaped the same—so he must be your brother.

Mike doesn't know how to feel about that because again, you've never uttered a word. As far as he knew, you were an only child, so why…

He gets lost in the pages, watching you grow and pose mostly next to your dad. Smiles and laughs and silly faces with your tongues sticking out. Your mom is in some, brother in others, and then, you're in a cap and gown, grinning widely next to your dad who's beginning to gray at the temples. His own smile is barely there now, a ghost of what was seen in the previous photos. It's forced, it's sad, and it's the last picture in the book.

Mike's chest hurts. He wonders what happened, when exactly you'd lost him. Was it a quick goodbye, or had it been drawn out and painful? Had he been sick for a long time? He'd looked perfectly healthy in all the shots. Maybe a car accident that took both him and your brother…

He flips to check for one last photo on the back of the page, but it's empty. However, tucked in a tiny, paper pocket is a folded up note that Mike stares at for a few solid minutes, debating the pros and cons of reading it. He knows he's already violated your privacy by looking through the album, and fuck, he's only been in your house for a couple hours at most—how has he already managed to tumble down such a humongous rabbit hole?

Your tiny snores reach his ears, and Mike gently pulls the note out, biting his lip as he unfolds it as quietly as possible. It's soft, like it's been read too many times, and the letters scribbled in all caps are beginning to fade, but the words are still legible.

It starts with your name, and then it's all apologies—sorry I can't stay, I have to leave, you don't understand how much this hurts me and so on.

Mike's eyebrows pull together the further he reads, blood pounding against the walls of his arteries, pulse picking up because he understands now.

Your father wasn't in any sort of accident; he just left.

The letter ends with a gut-wrenching, You'll always be my little girl, and Mike nearly crumples the paper up to throw away. He resists somehow, simply folds it with shaky hands and slips it back into the pocket at the back of the album.

He's never been so mad at a stranger in his life. This must be it. This must be why you are—

"Should've known you'd go straight for the photo album."

Your voice makes Mike's body jolt, his face heating as he turns to look at you with wide eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—"

You wave him off and prop yourself up on an elbow. "It's whatever."

But, it's not. It's this huge part of you that still affects you to this day. Mike is no psychologist, but he has a pretty good feeling this is the main reason you hold everyone at arm's length.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"What's there to tell?"

Sitting up fully, your gaze moves to the screen just in time to see Michael Jordan step off of the spaceship and onto the baseball field. I Believe I Can Fly is playing, and you're gritting your teeth.

"It's not anything that comes up in normal conversation anyway. I wasn't just gonna hit you with it outta nowhere. Also," you look back to Mike, eyes still sleepy, lips pulling downward in a frown. "I'm not the only one who hid stuff about my family."

Mike sighs and quietly tells you, "That's different," as he closes the album and slides it back into the row of books.

"Is it, though? Is it really?"

"I..."

Mike shuts his mouth and actually thinks on it. He wasn't trying to lie to you about his home life or his heritage. He's only half Greek on his mom's side, after all, and he's only been to the country to visit family a couple of times—once when he was a child and once right before college. The culture is a little different over there, but it all seems so natural to him, especially after being raised to speak the language.

Honestly, he didn't ever tell you because he didn't think to, but Mike can understand the shock of walking into his childhood home and getting thrown through that loop. It must have been jarring for you.

It's a positive aspect of his life, though. It's not something that's damaged him or made him cold toward others. And, he hates describing you in such a way, but it's true.

At least it makes sense now.

"I guess not," he shrugs. He's not about to fight you on it.

You stare at him for a while, waking up a bit more as you rub your eyes and stretch.

Then, you flop back down on your pillows.

"So. Any questions, Zacharias?"

He's surprised that you're asking, and though he doesn't want to twist the metaphorical knife in your gut, he still replies honestly: "Too many."

A long exhale through your nose, and then you're patting the mattress next to you and grumbling, "Fine, I'll do my best, but you gotta come up here."

"Why? You gonna need to cuddle afterward?" He can't help but tease.

"Fuckin' maybe, dude! We're about to get into my god damn trauma so—"

Mike is up on his feet and flying toward the bed. He isn't about to sabotage the one fucking moment you're opening yourself up.

"Alright, what first?" You ask, trying to look bored, but Mike can clearly see that you're nervous.

"He left."

"Yeah."

And then he gets the full story.

Your dad was pretty perfect during your younger years—a bit of a workaholic but still good. He took you to dances like the one you'd both dressed for in the photograph. You'd spend days at amusement parks where he'd carry you on his shoulders. He coached the basketball team you'd played on as a child.

"Not saying he played favorites, but I was definitely closer to him than my brother was."

The brother who developed a drug problem at fourteen, who was always either out with his little addict friends or at home where he would just scream at you and your mom.

"He went to rehab a couple times, but it didn't stick."

He left home at seventeen and hasn't gotten in touch with you or your parents since.

"I keep thinking one day we'll get a call from the police saying they found his wallet on a fucking corpse, but who knows. Maybe he got clean. Maybe he started a family somewhere else. He'd be twenty-five now."

"Were you ever close with him?"

You shrug. "We spent a lot of time together when we were really little, but even back then he was kinda a mean kid."

It very quickly circles back to your father. Mike still doesn't feel like he has all the answers, so he asks through the skin of his lip, "Why'd he leave?"

At this point, you've got your head in his lap as he sits against the wall. He smooths your hair back from your face every once in a while, something his mom used to do to him when he was very young that always soothed him.

He hopes it's having the same effect on you, thinks it might be considering you've had your eyes closed for a while now, humming now and then as you talk.

"Honestly, I don't really know. I don't think he and my mom were ever in love. Like, they just kinda settled for each other," you sigh. "They didn't have a lot in common. They had different upbringings. But, they didn't fight or anything—not in front of us. They were good at hiding the hard times from me and my brother. They just didn't… click."

Mike bites his tongue, wonders if that was hard to watch or if you'd been too naive to notice.

Then, there's his second train of thought that's really just the voice in his head screaming, we click, though! You and I work! But he keeps it to himself. This isn't about you and him.

"I think maybe dad had, like, a 'stay together for the kids' mentality 'cause as soon as I graduated, he was fuckin' gone. And, I mean gone. We went to a graduation party the next weekend that lasted a few hours—just me and mom—and when we got back his truck wasn't in the driveway and his drawers were empty. He left that note you read on my desk."

Mike breathes. Just breathes. He tries to make sense of it, how someone could just do that without a real reason. There hadn't been any explanation in the letter, only apologies.

"Have you seen him since?"

You open your eyes and reply, "Nope," popping the 'p'. "I don't know where he is, and he hasn't reached out. Mom made the drive to my grandma's—his mom—but she said she didn't know where he was either. Pretty sure she was covering for him, though. She was always kind of a bitch. You know, save for the whole paying for my college and all."

Mike snorts at this, not that there's anything funny about the situation. It's just his first reaction.

You ignore it, moving on with an, "Anyway."

"Anyway," he mimics.

"I don't know if you've noticed in the short time you've been here, but my mom is a little… off. Not super good at taking care of herself."

"Is this why?"

"Clever boy," you show a bitter smile. "I didn't really understand since they weren't, like, in love or whatever, but… I think it was the betrayal more than anything. Like, it came outta nowhere, a big ol' slap in the face."

"Plus, he left you behind," Mike adds, as if you don't already know.

Looking up at him, you raise your eyebrows and smirk. "And, now you know about my abandonment issues." The last part comes out in high-pitched, melodic syllables, a little song that would be funny if Mike didn't know it was a coping mechanism. It most definitely is, though. He can tell that you're the type to mask every issue with humor and sarcasm. It's how you've been dealing with him for the last several months.

"So, that's my story," you conclude on an exhale. "Now you know all my dirty secrets."

"For some reason I don't think that's all of them," Mike pets your hair again. "But, probably the important ones."

"Mm. I guess."

The rest of the day is really just spent killing time. You cook an easy dinner that you refuse to let Mike help with, then sit in the den with your mom just like you did at lunch. A medical show is playing. Then a reality show. Then a game show. None of you say much of anything, and it's painfully awkward for Mike now that he knows what happened, but he can power through a few days of this if it makes you feel better.

Hours pass until you can retreat, and moonlight shines through your bedroom window, not that Mike needs it. He's memorized your body at this point, knows where to touch without even seeing. He makes sure to be gentle, to suckle and blow on your pebbled nipples as you card fingers through his hair and breathe faster and faster.

Leaving love bites down your chest and stomach, he sucks on your skin, gently grazing his teeth over every bruise. Mike wants you to see them all the next day—not a staked claim, just something you can't ignore when you look in the mirror, evidence of his feelings in every mark.

When you're finally nice and relaxed, he spreads your legs and licks into you, trying not to be too rough with his beard, but a few swipes of it over your clit leave you shaking in his grasp. You whisper his name, the common one that everyone knows him by, but then, rolling off your tongue like a prayer, you call him, "Miche," and he can't help the rumble that rises in his chest.

It should be strange. That's the name only his family uses, the one he was born with. He only simplified it so that kids in school wouldn't ask questions or make fun of him, and after that, it just sort of stuck. But, here and now, falling from your lips, it's so soft. So intimate.

You whimper when he sucks on your folds, making them swell, making them sensitive. And then, he's pushing his tongue inside of you and humming happily at the taste. His nose is bumping against your clit, and Christ, you even smell good to him—that ripe, tangy aroma that has Mike going a little crazy. He has to make sure he doesn't get too carried away. You can't make very much noise even with the rattling of the air conditioner, but as he slowly slides a finger into your pussy, he hears you moan around the fist you're holding to your mouth.

He stretches you just enough to get you ready, then he holds himself over you and pushes into your wet cunt. Your eyes are open, locked with Mike's as your brow raises and your jaw drops. It's erotic, something you've never done with him before. You typically either gaze somewhere other than his face or keep your eyes squeezed shut.

Tonight, though, you've been vulnerable and apparently want to stay that way for a little while longer.

He bends to catch you in a kiss, lips and tongues moving just as slowly as his hips, and when you reach to tug at Mike's hair, he pants into your mouth.

Those words are there again, stuck in his throat but slowly crawling upward until they're just there, pouring from his tongue, "I lo—"

Until you cut him off with a sharp, "Don't."

He makes a noise of frustration, wants to protest because he's so deep inside of you, and you're holding onto him like you want him—truly want him, but you mutter once more against his lips, "Don't say it, Miche."

So, he doesn't. He bottles the confession up and keeps it locked away, hoping like hell that one day you'll let him tell you.

After you climax and coat his cock in slick and cream, he gives a few more thrusts and comes inside of you, filling you with himself and wondering why you're so willing to accept him in that way but not in any other.

He's hurting again, like he did at his parents' as you walked around like you belonged there. Except it's worse now.

If you don't want him to say it, that means you don't want to say it back.

He stays with you for a few more minutes before pulling out. You leave to clean up, and while you're gone, Mike sits on the edge of the bed, head in his hands as he tries to get it all out of his system, whispering it out loud to himself:

I love you. I love you, I love you.

You still let him hold you as you fall asleep, gripping his hand until you can't anymore, and as Mike drifts off behind you, he has one last thought—Just let me.

* There’s only three weeks left of the semester when you head back to campus, and you intend to make the most of every passing day.

You pay better attention in class. You study harder in the library to prepare for final exams. You go to a few more Pi Alpha Kappa parties, making sure not to burn yourself out. And, you let Mike fuck your brains out every few days. Sometimes it’s late at night after those parties. Sometimes you're too tired after the nights of drinking and end up just going to bed only to wake up in the morning and have slow, sleepy sex. Sometimes it’s in the middle of the afternoon when you both have breaks between classes.

Neither of you bring up anything that happened over the break—meeting families, details about your childhoods, how much you learned about one another in general.

Most importantly, neither of you address that first night at your mom’s, the way Mike had basically worshiped your body, how he’d come so close to uttering the three words you least want to hear.

Thinking about it still makes your chest tighten, your heart beat faster. Sometimes when you’re sharing his bed with him, back pressed to his chest, large arm slung over your waist, you think about why it is you’re so vehemently against it. The two of you already act like a couple most of the time. You walk with each other to class when you can. You stick to each other’s sides at parties. You fuck like rabbits and don’t care who knows about it.

And, though you’re hesitant to admit it even to yourself, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for him. Mike is your best friend at this point. He’s insanely hot. He’s goofy. He’s kind. Yeah, the frat boy persona he puts on around his friends is annoying, but you understand it a little better now. Plus, he always takes off the mask when he’s alone with you, giving both you and himself a break from it.

You know your time with him is quickly coming to an end—for about two months, at least—and whenever you think too hard about it, it makes you pout and huff. You’re not looking forward to your summer classes without him, but he promises on several occasions that you can call him while he’s at his parents’ if you ever need help with the material.

It’s impressive, the way he’s able to act like nothing happened. You know it must be troubling him, but it’s not like you can do anything to soothe him. If he was really upset with you, he would have stopped spending time with you, but he hasn’t. He just bottles it up, keeps smiling at you all crookedly, and keeps satisfying you in the bedroom (more than satisfying honestly. There’s really not a word to describe what he does).

He’s back to getting along with everyone in the Pike house, everyone being Erwin. It’s a relief just because you don’t have to put up with the tension between them, but it’s also awkward. And, a little frightening.

The brothers have Smash Brothers tournaments and movie nights, a few date parties here and there, and it never fails that at some point during the evenings, you find your neck prickling as it always does when you feel someone staring at you. You always hope it’s Mike. Fuck, you wish it was him. But, when you glance up and around, it’s Erwin. Every time. His deep blue eyes are trained on you, the corner of his mouth twitching upward on one side. It doesn’t matter if he’s alone or if he’s got Maddie or some other girl sitting in his lap. He's fucking shameless, and it makes your stomach hurt.

You keep your mouth shut for the sake of the friendship but also for the sake of Erwin’s pretty face. If he and Mike ever got into an actual fight, Erwin would probably be able to get a good few punches in, but you’re nearly positive Mike would end up destroying him in the long run. That could get him kicked out of school. That could get him thrown in jail.

Finals roll around, and you manage to pass all of them without issue, even getting grades above the class average. You feel fantastic, like your long term goals might actually be attainable. You have a long road ahead of you, but your GPA at the end of the year is more than enough to raise your confidence.

Mike asks you to come back to his house for the couple weeks between the end of the semester and the start of your summer courses, but you turn him down, too scared of what might happen while you’re there. Acting like a couple in front of his parents will only exacerbate his feelings as well as yours, and you’d like to avoid that as best you can.

Even now as you’re standing outside by the Jeep, he tries to persuade you one last time, almost pleading, “Are you sure you don’t wanna come?”

“Miche, I’m sure,” you tell him, trying to stay stern, but it’s hard when his sea glass eyes light up at the sound of his real name. It’s a habit you’ve gotten into, a bad one considering how much he likes it. How much you like it. “I already told you I wanna spend the free time I have at mom’s. I need to check up on her and… Probably clean, honestly.”

He lets out a little grunt of disappointment, then nods. “Yeah, I get it.”

“You saw what she’s like,” you remind him. “Someone needs to drop in every once in a while to make sure she isn’t, like, wasting away or something.”

“Makes sense. I’ll be bummed, though.”

“Be bummed all you want,” you smile. “I’ll probably still bother you over break. A lot.”

He sounds terribly sincere when he mumbles, “You never bother me.” It makes your stomach flip in the way you do not enjoy.

Mike sighs, taking in one of those deep breaths that makes his broad chest rise then fall, calling attention to it and making you bite your bottom lip.

“Alright, I should get going,” he concedes, bending down to kiss you too deeply for simple friends with benefits. It doesn’t stop you from humming into his mouth and smiling against him. You hold him by the back of his neck as he pulls your body close to his, his voice muffled when he tells you mischievously, “Don’t forget to send pictures.”

It makes you laugh, and you lean back to swipe your tongue over his lips so that he groans and chases after you.

“I promise I will. Perv.” The beating sun is nothing in comparison to the way your body heats at the thought. You’ve sent him nudes before, but the idea of him looking at them from hours away, fisting his cock as he admires your body through his phone… It makes seeing him off even harder.

After a couple more softer kisses, Mike swings into the Wrangler and pulls out of the lot. You stand in his parking space and watch him until he’s out of sight, then walk back to your dorm, dragging your feet the whole way.

You only stay at your mom’s house for a week, and just like you predicted, you spend most of it cleaning. She thanks you the whole time but makes excuses in between. You just reassure her that you don’t mind even though you do. She really should see a therapist and sort out the depression she’s been stuck in for a few years now, but telling someone they need professional help is easier said than done.

Sleeping in your old bed is much harder this time around. You're all too aware of the weight that isn't behind you, and most nights you lay awake for at least a couple of hours trying to imagine it.

Like you’d promised, you send him a few pictures, some of them just lewd selfies with your tits pouring out of the cups of your bra, but others are of your naked body in the bathtub, sometimes a shot of you with your hand between your legs. It feels wrong to touch yourself in your childhood home, but it’s necessary, especially when Mike sends you a few pictures of his own—one with his torso on display, defined abs absolutely mouthwatering and the V of his hips suggestively leading into mesh shorts. Another is of him in the gray joggers he wears all the time, the ones that always show off his cock.

He’s so fucking hot it atually hurts, makes your pussy throb as you crave his touch. It’s an awful feeling honestly, but even worse than that is the way you miss him. You aren’t supposed to miss him. You’re just supposed to be friends who have sex. Nothing more than that.

It's why you’re glad to go back to school. Your classes will distract you, keep you from thinking about him too much. The semester is shorter during the summer, so you have to work even harder than you do during fall and spring. You don’t really think it’ll be a problem since you’re trying to cram your brain full of anything other than Mike which is great motivation for studying.

Nothing is gonna get you off track, you tell yourself. Nothing will interfere with your studies. That’s the plan.

Then, you meet Zeke Jaeger.

* You're studying in the library. It seems like you spend most of your time here, nice and quiet and empty. The campus isn't nearly as busy in the summer as it is during the rest of the school year. No parties, no sporting events, just you alone with your books.

It's nice. Most of the time. A little boring but mostly nice.

Your eyes are getting tired, and when you check your phone, you realize why. It's almost eleven PM, meaning you've been studying for about six hours. You've had longer nights, usually spent on the phone getting quizzed on the information you're learning with a few breaks in between, but that wasn't the case tonight as Mike had to spend the day with family from out of town.

It's okay. You're supposed to be distancing yourself anyway.

Taking a deep breath, you pack up your books and slide your laptop into your bag, then stand and swing it over your shoulder.

The strap is too long. The bag swings too hard, and your heart sinks when you hear a little grunt followed by a, "Agh, hot!"

Turning with wide eyes, you immediately start apologizing, "I'm so sorry, oh my god, fuck, I'm so sorry!"

A head of light blond hair looks up from the brown stain on his white t-shirt, icy blue eyes narrowed behind wire-rimmed glasses, but when he sees the mortification on your face, his own expression softens, and he chuckles.

"It's fine. You can calm down."

You're still breathing heavily, guilt making your hands shake, but he really doesn't look angry. In fact, he's grinning now, eyebrows raised like he's amused.

The longer you stare at him, the more familiar he looks. You're pretty sure you've seen him before. Many times before, actually, and then it clicks that this guy is on the front page of the school website. You see him every fucking time you log in, looking much more stern than he does now. Baseball hat and jersey, mitt on one hand as he hides his other in it, and yeah, you know him.

"You're Zeke Jaeger."

He makes a face, scrunching his nose up and squinting. "Yeeeeah, I guess I am."

Best pitcher in the college league despite being a sophomore like you. He's beaten the records of some major league players.

You don't give a fuck about baseball, have never even been to any of the school's games, but you've been hearing about Zeke since the last season. You've learned to tune it out because, again, no shits given (and also you're much more partial to lacrosse now), but he's hard to ignore when he's staring you right in the face.

"Well, uh," you try to act casual. It's something you're pretty good at these days. "Cool."

He snorts, picking his shirt off his chest to air it out like it'll help, then says, "I don't know your name, though."

You run your tongue over your teeth, wondering why he cares, then introduce yourself.

"Oh, you're Zacharias' little girlfriend, aren't you?"

Your stomach flips at the mention of him.

"We're not dating."

Zeke cocks his head to the side. "No?"

"No. Just friends."

He hums but doesn't say anything, and your eyes are once again drawn to his chest as he fans over the stain.

"Okay, let me get you a new shirt or something," you try.

He laughs again. "I highly doubt you've got a men's shirt tucked in that bag of yours, sweetheart."

"I—" you pout for a second, mumble, "Okay, yeah, fair point."

"Another coffee, though," he muses out loud. "Wouldn't be the worst thing."

You shoot him a finger gun and smack your lips. "On it. Where do you get coffee at eleven o'clock?"

"I'll walk with you," he states more than offers.

Then, you're both leaving the library, leaving campus, and going to a little 24 hour cafe where you blow on lattes and cover the basics about each other—philosophy major, valedictorian of his high school class, playing baseball since age seven, etc. You should sleep. You should get ready for another long day of studying.

But it's hard to make good decisions when Zeke Jaeger is smirking at you from across the table like you're the most interesting thing he's ever seen.

* Zeke gets your number that night. You're not exactly sure how, but he does.

Then he doesn’t text you for three days. It doesn’t bother you that much. You figure he has other things to focus on. He’s on campus to take a couple courses and practice for the upcoming season, so he’s probably just busy. If that night had just been a one-off, it’s fine with you. It was cool to talk to him, but your heart isn’t broken.

These are all the thoughts and justifications running through your head when you’re in class on Tuesday and your phone lights up during the PowerPoint lecture. You glance down, expecting Mike or Hitch, but it’s an unknown number instead. Eyes flicking from the projection screen to your much tinier one, you slide to open the message and chew on your lip.

Hey, it’s Zeke. You have classes this afternoon?

You do not. And, you are too quick to tell him that.

He takes you to a little Mom and Pop restaurant, too far to walk so you end up riding in the black Bronco he drives, trying to convince yourself that it definitely does not make him any more attractive to you. Because you aren’t attracted to him in the first place. Right?

You sit at a table for two eating paninis and fruit. Zeke asks how classes are going, you ask about practice, and as you talk, he gets that look in his eyes again, like you amuse him or interest him or something.

It confuses you, and for a moment, you’re taken back to last fall at that first Pi Kappa Alpha party, the one you met Mike at when he tried to get you to shotgun a beer. God, he had been so obnoxious back then, always following you around and flirting and—

“You listening, sweetheart?”

Your eyes refocus on the man in front of you, his raised eyebrows and little smirk. “Looks like you’re a million miles away. Sorry if I’m boring you.”

“No, no,” you try to defend. “I just zoned out for a second. Realized I, uh, got an answer wrong on the quiz I took today.”

“That sucks,” he hums. “Anyway, I can stop talking about baseball.”

“It’s okay. Just go over the last, like, ten seconds,” you say with a laugh, hoping your cheeks will stop burning sooner rather than later.

Zeke chuckles and does just that, doesn’t seem irritated or put out. He tells you about how he has a new trainer this year to warm him up and make sure his throwing arm is in top shape. “I hope he’s as good as my last. Colt was always on it, knew exactly how hot to make the warm compresses and how cold to make the ice packs. Stuff like that. He learned my needs.”

You both laugh, and if it was anyone else, you’d have an innuendo sliding off your tongue, but for some reason, you don’t think Zeke would want to hear it, like he’d be unimpressed with your vulgar humor.

Back at the college, he drives you to your dorm, explaining that he lives in the apartments on the other side of campus and wouldn’t want to make you walk that far. Then, as you slide out of the Bronco, he stops you with a smooth, “Hey,” that makes you look over your shoulder at him. “Make sure you save my number in your phone, okay? I’ll text you soon.”

The way your stomach flips is worrisome, a feeling you’re only used to when you’re with…

“Yeah, okay.”

He grins widely and nods, then waits for you to get a good distance away from the car before driving off.

No distractions, you’d said. It’ll be good for your focus, you’d said.

What a fucking joke.

Mike has to help you with some homework that weekend. You can hear his smile through the phone, snort when he makes his little nerd jokes, then sigh when he gets to the actual subject and explains it to you without a problem. His brain is incredible, and when you think about it too hard, it makes you warm inside.

“You’re so fucking smart. Why don’t you let people know?”

“Maybe I just want you to know,” he chuckles. “You think I wanna spend my days tutoring every idiot who needs help?”

“Miche, did you just call me an idiot?”

You hear another breathy laugh followed by a sigh. “I have many, many names for you, but ‘idiot’ isn’t one of them.”

“Oh yeah?” You play. “And, what might those other names be?”

He lists a few, all of them making your face flush and your body tingle, and before you know it, you’ve got your pants off and your fingers between your legs. You can hear Mike’s heavy breathing on the other end, the wet sound of his hand stroking his lubricated cock, and when you reach your climax, you moan out your usual, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, Miche.”

He tumbles down right behind you, panting and telling you in a voice of disbelief, “Jesus, it just keeps coming.” It makes the pulses of your orgasm even stronger, remembrance of all the times he’s painted you in white, and God, you are so ready for him to get back to the school.

Then, there’s the voice in the back of your head that makes you think maybe it’s better that he’s gone for now, that he might not be too pleased that you’re spending time with another guy. But, it’s not like things with Zeke are going anywhere. You wouldn’t even call him a friend. You text on and off, have brunch or lunch or coffee depending on the time of day.

And, yeah, he calls you pet names, tells you that you look nice even when you’re just in leggings and a t-shirt, talks about his family and…

Okay, it could potentially lead to something more, but it’s only been a week, and considering his golden boy status, he could have anyone he wants, so why would he even be interested in you in any way, shape, or form?

Naturally, your thoughts circle back to Mike and the way he could have any girl on his arm, but he still chooses to spend time with you. To fuck you. To nearly confess his feelings to you. You have to wonder if you’re emitting some kind of scent or beacon, if there’s a sign hanging above your head with an arrow pointing down. Sports gods, come get a piece.

If only you’d never gone to that party. If you had just kept your head down like you had freshman year. Your life would be so much easier now.

But now you’re in Zeke’s apartment listening to him rant about some philosopher you’ve never even heard of. He’s gesturing with his hands, flipping curling, blond bangs from his face, and whenever he pauses to think, he scratches his beard. He’s very fond of the white t-shirts and jeans get-up, sometimes switches it up and wears a button down under a sweater vest. Both looks are becoming of him no matter how much you try to deny it, but when he drops down onto the couch next to you and peers into your god damn soul with those piercing, blue eyes, you have to choke back a dreamy sigh.

What is happening to you?

“So, what do you think about it?” He asks, looking hopeful that you might have some insight on this matter.

But, you simply laugh and shake your head. “Zeke,” you start. “I’m gonna be real honest with you here. I didn’t understand a fucking thing you just said.”

You assume he’ll be disappointed, maybe tire of you since you can’t be as intellectually stimulating as he’d like you to, but Zeke exhales in a lighthearted sort of way, shows one of those amused smiles, and tells you, “You’re cute.”

Anyone else and you would have snapped back, something along the lines of, don’t fucking patronize me, but with Zeke, all you can do is stare at him and let your lips part, silently asking for something you won’t speak out loud.

His gaze moves to your mouth for a split second. That soft smile turns into one of his famous smirks. Then, he’s back on his feet and asking, “You wanna go to dinner?”

You are more than relieved at the shift in atmosphere, but your heart is still beating too hard as you follow him downstairs and to his car.

* Summer is passing quickly. Too quickly. The eleven week classes are kicking your ass, or are close to kicking your ass. Lucky for you, you have your own private tutor just a call or text away. Mike helps you, and you laugh and goof around, shoot off innuendo after innuendo, but the phone sex slows to a halt eventually. You tell him that you’re tired, and you are. It isn’t a lie. But, it also isn’t the full truth.

Between classes when you could be resting, you’re eating out with Zeke. Or, watching him and the rest of the baseball team practice for the upcoming season. Or, sitting in his apartment, watching movies and chatting about all manner of things. Nothing important, of course—there’s no diving deep into your life story like you had done with Mike over Spring Break, but Zeke still learns the little things about you. Why you’re majoring in geosciences and how you became good friends with some of the Pike guys. You don’t give him the full details on that one—that you got blackout drunk and fucked Mike and just couldn’t stop. You don’t think Zeke would be interested in hearing about it anyway.

You learn a bit about his dad and stepmom, the latter of whom he isn’t very fond of. He also has a little brother who’ll be attending the college starting this fall, and he’s interested in the Greek life. Naturally, you build PKA up. Even if there are some… Problematic people in the house, there are also a lot of really good guys.

“I’ll make sure to pass it along to him,” Zeke tells you one evening as you’re both sprawled on the couch, backs against the armrests as you face each other. It’s how he seems to prefer to sit when the TV isn’t on. When you asked him why, he had told you, “Just like looking at you,” and you didn’t know how to respond. You still don’t know how to respond.

“Eren thinkin’ about joining any sports?” You ask now. “Does baseball run in the family or anything?”

Zeke snorts. “Kid couldn’t hit a baseball even if it was on one of the t-ball stands.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.”

“I would say he’s more academically inclined, but,” Zeke sighs. “That would be a lie.”

You can never tell if he actually likes his brother. Most of the time he complains about him, but every once in a while he’ll bring up something cute Eren did as a little boy, and you see a fond glimmer in his light eyes.

“Anyway,” Zeke waves off the subject and transitions to a new one—one that makes your stomach drop. “Are you gonna tell Zacharias about us?”

You choke on your own spit, leaning forward to cough a couple times, then challenge him with a nervous laugh, “I wasn’t aware there was anything to tell him.”

Zeke tilts his head, mouth pulling up as he raises his eyebrows. “Come on,” he chuckles.

“Come on, what?” You frown. If you were with Mike, you both would have died at that. Come on my face, you can hear him say, and you have to fight a smile because there’s absolutely no way you could explain that to the man in front of you.

“You don’t have to play coy, sweetheart. We both know there’s something going on between us.” He says it with such confidence that even if he wasn’t right you wouldn’t be able to argue with him. The assumption should annoy you, should make you scoff and leave, but instead you sit there staring, caught up in his gaze and cocky grin.

“I—”

“It’s okay, you know. Not like you’re alone in this.”

Those questions swim through your mind again, all the insecurities that you’ve been sorting through with Mike, but now that voice is louder because that sense of trust hasn’t formed yet. You’ve only connected with Zeke over meals and movies. It sounds domestic, but despite your apparently obvious attraction to him, you still don’t feel like you really know him.

But, he draws you in, like a moth to a flame. You can’t help it. There’s just something about him that makes you want him to like you, like you want to impress him, like you want to be good for him. You’ve been trying to ignore those thoughts, but they’re much harder to fight now that you’re sitting in front of him, taking in his wavy hair and pale blue eyes, that ever present smirk on his face, the curve of his neck that disappears into his shirt.

He could just want sex. He could just want a fling. Wait for everyone to get back on campus and drop you for another girl. You tell yourself you wouldn’t care; you’re good at keeping things casual.

Wouldn’t it be fun to be his arm candy for a while, though? Let people look at you and whisper louder than they did when they’d see you and Mike together? You don’t care about status, about being in the spotlight. It’s more for the experience, dating someone who could teach you things.

Mike teaches you things, that voice pops up again. He’s been helping you with your work for almost a year now. You can’t just overlook that.

“What, are you weighing the pros and cons over there or something?”

You snort. “Maybe. We still don’t really know each other all that well, Zeke.”

“Might I remind you that we’ve been hanging out all summer? Did you honestly think it wouldn’t lead to anything more?”

“Honestly,” you mimic, “I never thought you’d be interested.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” His brow furrows like he’s genuinely confused. “You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re cute.”

God, you can’t even count how many times he’s called you ‘cute’, how many times it’s made you blush over the last several weeks, just like it does now.

Then, he pushes, “Do you not find me at—”

“Of course I do,” you cut him off. “I don’t know who doesn’t, which is exactly why I don’t know where this is coming from.”

Zeke sighs like he’s annoyed, then turns the hand on his thigh palm up and beckons you with two fingers. “Come here.”

“What?”

“Come here.”

Your blood pressure spikes, breaths coming in little puffs that have no way of getting to your brain. It’s probably why you obey, rolling to your knees and clumsily crawling over to him. You stop short, right between his bent knees, but Zeke sits up, straightens his legs, and pulls you into his lap.

More of that precious air leaves your lungs as you exhale too sharply, staring at him with huge eyes. You don’t know what’s happening, can’t believe it’s happening. It doesn’t feel real even as you rest your hands on his shoulders, even when he holds your hips and pulls you so that your full weight is on him, but fuck, you can’t say anything. You can’t make a sound. All you can do is wait for him to make his next move.

“Why do you look scared?” His voice is just above a whisper, but at this proximity you can hear him without a problem.

“I don’t have a lot of experience sitting in men’s laps,” you manage, trying to keep your usual careless tone, but you doubt it works.

“For some reason I don’t believe that.”

You rear back, actually offended. “Excuse m—”

That ire, however, melts away as quickly as it arose. Zeke slides fingers up your waist, all the way to the back of your neck to bring your face to his—your lips to his.

He feels different, not at all what you’re used to. His kiss is more demanding, hungry, and God, you still can’t breathe, can’t think straight because his tongue is moving past your lips, and you’re letting it, letting him taste you as your fingertips dig into the flesh of his shoulders. You lift yourself from him just a little only for Zeke to pull you back down with the hand still gripping your hip. He makes sure you feel him when he grinds up into you, the zipper of his jeans rubbing you through your little shorts so that you gasp into his mouth.

You both stay like that for what feels like a fucking eternity, biting and sucking on lips, stroking over each others’ tongues until you absolutely have to break apart. You’re panting now, body still tense on top of his, and Zeke stares at you with half-lidded eyes and shows the ghost of a smile.

“Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

The statement sets you on fire, so much so that all you can do is whimper quietly and lean in for more.

And, as you get lost in Zeke Jaeger, you decide for yourself.

I need to tell Mike

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#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #aot fanfiction #mels prima vista

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rkived · 4 years

Text

year 22 (m) — jjk

‘‘I knew you’d be standing in my front porch light, and I knew you’d come back to me.’‘

Pairing: childhoodfriend!jk x f!reader

Genre/Tags: angst!!!, drama, a lil fluff, f2l, e2l-ish, pining, slow burn, smut

Rating: M +18

WC: 11.5k

Warnings: time jumps, underage drinking, jk being a douchebag for most of the fic, reader can’t catch a mf break, mention of character death ((no major one tho)). smut in the form of oral (f. receiving), fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex ((wrap it b4 u tap it y’all)), my being called pretty kink making a brief appearance soz

A/N: i listened to cardigan for the first time n had it on replay the whole time i wrote this so ig u should do it too ! this is my first time posting smut on here but who would i be if i didn’t throw in some good angst ? also tysm to @periminkle for being my unofficial beta reader n checking it up for me, she knows i’m constantly looking for her validation n i def wouldn’t post this if she didn’t love it ilu vira thx for being the best ever mwah !!!

You’re five, cowering behind his mother’s legs, sniffing as tears stream down your face. In front of you both stands Jungkook, there’s remorse written all over his face as his mother stares him down with hands on her hips and a look that just screams that this is only the beginning of his punishment.

‘’Apologize to Y/N right now Jungkook, or I’ll have your father have a word with you,’’ she threatens with a stern tone, making her son quickly shake his head no. ‘‘You need to learn how to share your toys.’’

You peek behind her lanky leg and find the slightly older kid looking at you with narrowed eyes, ‘‘I’m sorry, Y/N.’’ He apologizes with a bow, but he’s obviously displeased with the whole ordeal.

His mother sighs and Jungkook pouts at the look on her face. She urges you to come out from your not-so-secret hiding spot and to go back to playing with him, even though you seriously doubt that will do any good to what just happened.

Jungkook’s bedroom door is kept open as he sits back down on his city patterned carpet, you twiddle with your thumbs and stare at the Spiderman poster on his wall. There’s an awkward silence between you two until you feel a toy bump your crisscrossed legs.

It’s the shiny red car he had refused to lend you before, provoking an argument between you two which eventually made you run out of his room in tears as you ratted him out to his mom.

‘‘Wooow,’’ you whisper in awe, taking the car in your hands with so much care, treating it like it’s one of your newest dolls.

Jungkook huffs, crossing his arms as he looks at you with distaste and he’s forced to settle with other boring toys as you giggle to yourself, making the car follow the carpet’s tracks. He learns then to never trust his mother again. If she ever says she’ll bring a new friend for him to play with again, he’ll refuse wholeheartedly.

He doesn’t like sharing his toys, and it’ll probably take him a long time to learn how to.

You’re nine as you hand Jungkook one of the multiple Valentine’s Day cards you carefully crafted the night before with your mother, adding all kinds of pretty stickers and shiny glitter to make each one of them unique. His is different from the rest, though.

You added hearts to the dots in the I’s, there’s a hint of your favorite body splash enveloping the pink construction paper and it fills Jungkook’s nostrils with so much force that he feels he could gag at the smell.

‘‘What do you think?’’ You ask the fourth-grader with a big smile on your face, cheeks tinted with a light shade of red as you see him reading the little message you wrote inside the card.

Jungkook lets out a mocking chuckle, ‘‘Are you serious? You like me?’’ He asks you, but it doesn’t look like he’s looking for answers. Your smile slowly fades away, looking at him with glossy eyes, ‘‘I don’t like you, you’re just a dumb little girl.’’

His card was the one you had invested the most time in and yet it only took him a second to crumple it with his hand, and another five for him to toss it into the trash can near you before he goes back to his group of friends in the school’s playground.

You learn how to hold your tears in then, thinking it’s a great accomplishment and that maybe now he’ll stop calling you a crybaby.

His friends receive him with high-fives and he smiles with gratefulness because they just saw how much of a badass he can be. Once recess is over and everyone’s going back to their classrooms, Jungkook nears the garbage bin where he had thrown the Valentine's card in, but finds it’s now dirty with yogurt someone tossed inside.

He grimaces at the sight and sighs, there’s no way he can save it now.

You’re twelve and you’re the only girl in the treehouse who hasn’t gone through puberty yet. It wasn’t something that bothered you until just recently, when it became pretty evident why none of the boys would even give you a onceover compared to the other girls.

“I don’t know if I want to play,” you mumble after Kim Jihyo suggests playing spin the bottle. You’re the only one who opposes the idea, though you could count Jungkook in given as he just sat there without saying a word.

Park Yerim rolls her eyes, “You’re so boring, Y/N!” The comment makes the rest giggle as you pout at being the designated party pooper.

It’s all fun and games of truth and dares to whoever the bottle lands on and you’ve been lucky enough to avoid the tip of the plastic Coca-Cola bottle to point at you, until it lands on Jungkook who has done a few funny dares so far.

“Alright, Jungkook, let’s make things even more fun!” Jihyo announces since she’s been the one who has assigned most of the embarrassing challenges and questions, “I dare you to kiss one of the girls here for ten seconds.”

The dare makes the boys cheer with excitement and the girls gasp with anticipation, hoping one of them is the lucky chosen one. Your lips part slightly as you stare at him sitting across from you, he’s clearly not comfortable with the dare, but knowing him, he won’t express his current discomfort.

His eyes land on you as you stare back at him with concern, hoping that he’ll speak up to avoid himself the embarrassment. Has he even kissed someone before? If this is his first kiss, you’ll witness it alongside everyone else and you can only imagine how terrifying that must be. Even though Jungkook’s always been a brave kid, you can always tell when he feels under pressure.

“Uhm, I’ll uh—“ Jungkook keeps staring at you and you feel your heart start to beat like you just ran the usual ten laps around the gym in P.E class. Are you about to have your first kiss? With him?

You nod your head absentmindedly, a sign to let him know it’s okay for him to pick you from all the other developed girls who probably have more experience kissing than you do, but it’s okay because you’ve always been a quick learner.

“Yeji,” Jungkook says after what feels like forever, though it’s only been a mere few seconds, “I’ll kiss Yeji.” He adds, removing his eyes from yours and settling them on the girl with the high ponytail and pink colored nails.

You bite your bottom lip hard, breaking the dry skin as you feel yourself taste blood. It doesn’t matter because no one’s paying attention to you and instead they’re focused on Jungkook’s neverending kiss with Yeji.

When you get home that night, you look at yourself in the mirror and frown at your lack of everything. Is this the reason as to why he hadn’t picked you?

You’re fourteen and Kim Taehyung just sent you a message through MSN in which he confesses to have feelings for you. Your eyes widen, rereading the message several times, rubbing at your eyes just to make sure you’re seeing things correctly.

You run off across the street to Jungkook’s house, ringing the doorbell quickly for someone to open up. You’re greeted by him looking at you with an annoyed expression, he had to pause his GTA game to come and open the door.

“What do you want?” Jungkook asks harshly, crossing his arms as he stares into somewhere that’s not your face. He’s anxiously waiting for you to spit out whatever it is you’re there to say.

You calm yourself down by breathing in deep and out, blowing the air right at him, “Does Taehyung like me?” You ask him, making Jungkook’s eyes widen in surprise and his brows to raise.

His reaction tells you that you might’ve just discovered a secret you weren’t supposed to and it only makes your heart beat even faster because if it’s true, then this is a pleasant surprise. Kim Taehyung is one of the hottest boys in the tenth grade and he happens to be one of Jungkook’s closest friends. You think he must know something since you see them hanging out at lunch.

“Uh—I don’t know, Y/N.” Jungkook mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck, finally looking at you and he feels a gut wrenching punch in his stomach at the sight. “Taehyung isn’t a really good guy, you shouldn’t—“

“What are you saying?” You interrupt him with a question, confused as to why Jungkook was painting a negative picture of his friend. “He was really sweet with what he said, he thinks my eyes are pretty when they sparkle — I didn’t even know they did that!”

Jungkook grimaces and sighs, there’s really not much he can do here. You’ve always been so stubborn, so relentless. No matter how many times life tries to tell you something’s not meant for you, you challenge each and every one of it’s obstacles until you take what’s yours.

“Okay, then what are you gonna do? Date him? You haven’t even had your first kiss yet.” Jungkook reminds you with a mocking tone and you furrow your brows together because, how does he know that?

You stammer, “I-I have! I had it at camp last summer, actually!” That’s a lie, but he wasn’t there so he can’t prove the veracity of your statement. “And what do you care? So what if I want to date him?” You add with anger, not understanding why couldn’t he just support you in search of true love.

The thought of dating Kim Taehyung had never crossed your mind, thinking he was way too out of your league for him to ever notice you. But that confession sitting in your MSN chat now served as a nice feeling of knowing you aren’t as invisible as you think you are.

Jungkook scoffs, “Taehyung would never date you, okay? He’s older than you, he’s cool, he goes to parties and has kissed almost every girl in his grade, do you think he’d really like someone as boring as you?” He doesn’t mean to be so harsh, but you’re just so difficult and impossible to get through.

Jungkook’s used to the trembling bottom lip and the teary eyes that you give him everytime he says something that definitely strikes a nerve within you, but he’s always impressed on how you always refrain from crying in front of him. Last time you did that you were both kids and he probably took the last lollipop from your batch of collected halloween candy.

“Screw you, Jungkook,” you say through gritted teeth, and if looks could kill, he’d be dead already.

He looks at you quickly stomp your way back to your house, only heading back inside once you slam your front door shut. Jungkook enters his room to find two new messages in his MSN.

$$ kIm tAaEhyYyuNG $$: it worked!

$$ kIm tAeEhyYyunGG $$: she fell for it xDxD where did u even come up with the sparkly eyes thing?? that’s gold bro rofl

Jungkook sighs, ignoring the messages and shutting his computer down.

You’re sixteen and you’ve been invited to your first party. Granted, it was Jungkook’s, but he knew that if he didn’t ask you to come you’d probably tell on him with his mom. No matter what age he was, he’d always fear his mother’s scolding.

“Drink this!” Park Jimin says with his beautiful smile and you’re starting to realize why they gave him that very same superlative on the school’s yearbook. You take the red solo cup without any second thought, placing the rim straight to your lips and choke once you feel the liquid burn your throat.

“Ugh—What’s this?” You ask, cleaning the droplets of liquid around the corners of your mouth.

He chuckles, “Fruit punch!” The liquid is indeed red like the familiar drink you’re used to, but there’s definitely something else mixed inside. “Oh, and vodka,” he adds with wiggly eyebrows as he shows off the small flask he was hiding in his sweatshirt’s front pocket.

You gasp and hand him the cup back, “No, I don’t drink alcohol, sorry.” Jimin rolls his eyes and it reminds you of the many times you’ve received this same reaction from your classmates before. Always a party pooper. He’s about to take the plastic red cup from you until you quickly drink the spiked punch in one go.

The boy howls in excitement, “Woo, go Y/N! Another one coming right up.”

Jungkook knows he should be making sure everything’s alright downstairs. If his mother notices there’s at least one misplaced object, she’ll know right away something went down in her house while her husband and her were away for the weekend on an emergency trip to their hometown. Leaving him unsupervised only because they both believed their son was old enough to tend for himself.

But Jung Eunha had dragged him into his room with the excuse of wanting to see what it looked like, but the mini tour had turned into them kissing on his bed and Jungkook is thankful he changed his Spiderman sheets in exchange for some boring plain grey ones. Eunha smells like fresh mint and Jungkook is way into his head to focus on properly kissing her.

It’s not until his bedroom door is abruptly open, slamming against the wall that Jungkook literally jumps to his feet, making Eunha gasp as they both look at the person who has interrupted their awkward makeout session.

“Guk-ah, what are you doin’?” You curiously wonder, a hiccup following right after which makes you giggle. Jungkook’s chest rises and falls with quickness as he notices you look different from the last time he saw you twenty minutes ago when you were talking to Jimin. “Guk-ah, were you—you kissin’ Eunha?” You ask once more after not receiving an answer to your previous question.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks in concern, coming closer to analyze your weird state. You stretch your arm out to avoid him from nearing you, making him falter in his place as he studies your expression.

You hum, “Guk-ah, you busy. Sorry,” you apologize in a shy tone, ready to head back down and have more of that fruity alcohol punch you now found tasty, but you stumble and only avoid yourself from falling by holding onto Jungkook's door frame, he’s already reaching out by then.

“Are you fucking serious, Y/N? Get out!” Eunha complains with irritation, getting up from the bed and ready to kick you out of his room, but his free arm stops her from getting near you. “Whu—?”

“Eunha, go back down. I’ll deal with her myself.” Jungkook says as calmly as he can, thinking three’s a crowd and dealing with you wasn’t an easy thing in of itself. She’s about to argue, but he interrupts her again, “Go down, now.”

She rolls her eyes and bumps her shoulder against yours harshly once she steps out of his room, “Whatever, that kiss was shitty anyway.”

He pretends he didn’t hear that and takes you in his arms instead, dragging you to lay on his bed as you cuddle into his favorite pillow and hug it close to your body. How much did you drink? Why did you even do it in the first place? Jungkook knows you’ve never tried alcohol before, which means he’ll be in big trouble if you show up back to your house like this.

When you open your eyes hours later, your head hurts and it feels lightweight when you move it side to side. The room you’re in is familiar, that spiderman poster is still hung on the wall, but there are no more toys laying around the floor; they’ve probably been stored somewhere in his garage or sent off to a donation center under his mother’s demand.

The pillow that you’re hugging smells just like him and any other day you’d hold on to it tighter and inhale his scent like your life depended on it, but you abruptly sit on the bed as you’re reminded of how you got here. The action is not appreciated by your dizzy head, but you look around the room to notice how dark it is and there’s no more music playing downstairs.

You quickly jump to the ground, only to hear a “Fuck, ouch!” from below, stepping on Jungkook’s leg unintentionally. It makes you gasp, looking down to notice the older friend laying on the cold floor, having gotten rid of that childhood carpet of his. His head’s laying on a makeshift pillow made out of a towel and he’s trying hard not to shiver.

“I’m sorry, sorry, sorry!” You quickly apologize, stepping away from his figure as he soothes the shin of his leg you stepped on. “Jungkook, what happened?”

He sighs, “Someone decided to drink like five cups of spiked punch knowing damn well it was their first time drinking alcohol, stepped into my room like a crazy person, and then crashed on my bed like they—What’s with the face?”

“Bathroom.”

Jungkook grimaces while he holds your hair back, you’re throwing away all the liquid you had taken with a few additional snacks you had munched on earlier, “Are you done?” He asks in a tired mumble and you shake your head no.

He feels guilty that you’re in this position. He didn’t even want to kiss Eunha, but she was one of the most popular girls in his grade and he knew that if he turned her down she would most likely put a bad word in with the rest of the girls and the guys would make fun of him for being such a wuss.

That would’ve been better, because after laying you down on his bed he had to go down and tell everyone that the party was over, putting an excuse that the neighbors had warned him and threatened to call the cops. They all cleared pretty quickly, but he knew he was going to be the butt of the jokes come Monday. He even had to call your parents to let them know you had gone home to a friend’s house for a sleepover, which he knew wasn’t totally believable, but it had somehow gotten them convinced that their daughter was alright because they trusted Jungkook to never hurt you ever.

Once you feel like you’ve puked your stomach out, Jungkook hands you a pill accompanied with a glass of water and hands you clothes of his that might be more comfortable to sleep in.

“Good night, Jungkook,” you whisper once you’re laying back on his bed, still hugging the pillow he preferred to sleep with. He makes a sacrifice to make it up to you.

His back is going to hurt by the time the sun comes out in a few hours, but it’s okay if it means you’ll sleep comfortably after the events of tonight. “Good night, Y/N.”

He’s unable to sleep, but finds entertainment in your hanging hand beside his bed. The skin on your palm looks soft and there’s this strange urge inside of him that makes him want to grab your hand in his, but he refrains.

To calm the current chaos in his head, Jungkook finds peace in the light snores coming from his bed.

You’re just about to turn eighteen and your date to the prom is Jeong Jaehyun, who had only asked you out a day before the event because the girl he had initially wanted to take had been asked and he didn’t have a plan B.

Jaehyun is okay, at least he managed to get you a corsage that matched the color of your dress. He even smiles in the pictures your parents take of you both as you awkwardly try to look comfortable with his arms around you even though by then you had only exchanged a few sentences.

The prom’s theme is Summer Nights and you think it’s fitting considering this is the very last event before the graduation ceremony, meaning that you’d most likely never see most of these people ever again. You had purposely applied to a college that was outside of your hometown for that same reason. You’re ready to live the life you’ve always wanted to live, without anyone judging or knowing you.

Your date spends most of the night talking with his group of friends as you’re left alone on your table, looking at your well manicured nails. You knew you weren’t going to get the same prom experience the high school kids on T.V enjoyed, but you at least hoped it would’ve been a little more fun than this.

A tap on your shoulder makes you turn around to see Jungkook trying to loosen the tight tie around his neck. He looks incredibly handsome and you suppose his mother helped him pick the suit out, Jungkook rarely ever wore fitted clothing, so this is one of those once in a lifetime moments..

“Hey you,” you say and he gives you half a smile, wondering why you’re sitting by yourself at an empty table when everyone else was either mingling or dancing. “Where’s your date?” You ask with curiosity, you’re surprised that Jinsoul isn’t trailing alongside him given how she had behaved for the past week ever since he asked her to come with him.

“Retouching her face or something,” he answers casually, “what are you doing sitting here? Where’s Jaehyun?” Jungkook asks.

You shrug your shoulders, “Don’t know, probably talking with the guys of the basketball team. He’s been gone for a while.” Not like you care, anyway. If your conversation with him inside his car on the way to the venue had been any indication of what it would’ve been like for the rest of the night, you’re glad he's not here trying to make any more small talk with you.

Jungkook huffs, thinking he’ll kick his ass if he sees him. He had asked him to invite you so you wouldn’t come alone, and yet here you are, sitting all by yourself while the douchebag’s making a social life somewhere in the crowd. He calms down once he notices how unbothered you are by it, though. You’re a big girl now, you’ve been through too much to be affected by something as simple as this.

“Is there something you wan—“

“Dance!” You interrupt with excitement and Jungkook chuckles.

“I was gonna ask if you wanted something to drink, but—alright, let’s dance.” Jungkook can’t dance for shit, but you took lessons when you were younger and he can still remember how you’d always show him the routines you learned in class. He’d always boo you, but in reality you were pretty good. He wonders why you stopped, he doesn’t recall you ever telling him.

It’s just his luck that once you both step into the dancefloor, the hired DJ stops the up-tempo song playing before and switches to a much slower romantic one, “Alright everyone, I want all the couples on the dancefloor for this one.”

You step away from him with nervousness, it’s couples only after all. But Jungkook holds onto your lower back firmly, pulling you closer into his space. Your eyebrows raise as your lips part, “Uh, s-should we, uh—?”

“It’s just a song, Y/N. You wanted to dance, then we’ll dance.” He tells you with such confidence it makes you feel like this is totally normal and something all friends do. All the known High School couples are dancing together, heads tenderly placed over chests and chins resting lovingly above them. You wait for Jungkook to take the lead because you have no clue of what you should be doing, you might’ve taken dance lessons years ago but you’ve never slowed danced in your life.

Jungkook places his hand on your hip, the touch makes goosebumps crawl in your arms. He pretends he doesn’t notice it as he takes your right hand in his. You stare at the way he delicately holds it like it’s his mother’s fine china. “Place your other hand on my shoulder,” he instructs and you do as asked, your palm coming to rest on the strong muscle.

He’s only slowed danced once before at a family member’s wedding where his mother taught him how to, with her as the teacher. Back then he thought it was incredibly ridiculous, but now he’s sort of glad that happened because he’s the teacher now and you’re now looking at him with your big eyes as you sway alongside him.

You clear your throat, “This isn’t that hard.” Jungkook nods as he stares down at you, noticing how uneasy you are given that you’re looking at everything and not entirely immersed in the moment.

“You look beautiful tonight.” He says out of nowhere, making you look at him like a deer stuck in headlights, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He had never called you that before.

An awkward laugh escapes your lips, looking away from his intense gaze as you try not to take his words too literally, “Ha ha, that was a good one.” To you there’s no other explanation than this being one of his mean pranks on you.

But Jungkook doesn’t falter both his words and gaze, “I’m not laughing.” There’s seriousness in his voice and you have to look back at him again just to make sure he really isn’t, “You look beautiful, just take the compliment.” You nod and there’s silence between you two after that. You’re digesting the romantic lyrics that the singer is talking about and hope that the song ends soon, because you’ve never been this close to him and it’s starting to feel too crowded.

You clear your throat, “So…”

“So…,” he repeats.

“What are you doing for summer?” You ask him in an attempt to break the tension and wanting to take advantage of the little intimate moment since Jungkook rarely ever lets you pry into his private life.

“I think I’ll train before heading off,” he answers. It was more than obvious he was going to earn that sports scholarship he had been aiming for, he was one of the best athletes on the school; though you considered him to be the number one between them all. “I’m kinda scared, not gonna lie.”

You look at him with surprise, tilting your head to the side, “You’re scared?” You ask in disbelief because as long as you’ve known him, he’s never been scared of anything. This is the same kid who instilled your fear of monsters in a closet after watching Monster’s Inc. together, also the same kid who helped you get over it after he realized you had actually taken it seriously.

He chuckles lightly, “Yeah, I’m just scared about starting over.” It’s interesting how his biggest fear is the one you’re looking forward to the most, but you suppose it’s fitting for someone who has never had to worry about what people think of him. In this town, Jungkook has swam freely without any concerns. Out there, he’s just another fish in the big and scary ocean. “Aren’t you?” He questions, hoping that you’re able to relate to what he’s feeling.

“Honestly, I—“

You’re interrupted by Jaehyun clearing his voice in front of you two, making you both turn your heads towards his direction. You quickly separate from Jungkook and he feels his body lose the warmness you were providing.

“If you wanted to dance, you could’ve just asked. I’m your date after all.” He says smugly and you chuckle awkwardly, nodding because he’s right.

Jungkook wants to punch his stupid face, how dare he interrupt you both when he had been ignoring you the whole night? Why does he suddenly want to dance with you when he’s probably still upset at him for asking Jinsoul to the prom before he could?

“Your date’s looking for you, buddy. She doesn’t look too happy.” Jaehyun adds with a smirk as he takes your hand in his and drags you away from Jungkook towards another place on the dancefloor.

He’s left to stare at the way he holds your hand, and he only hopes he’s doing it ever so carefully.

You’re twenty when Jungkook sees you for the first time since you both left for college two and half a years ago. He’s rendered speechless when he spots you in the crowd, there’s a manly hand around your waist as you giggle into the stranger’s mouth before placing a kiss to his lips.

There’s only so much social media can provide him, pictures and stories aren’t enough for Jungkook to keep up with you. He thinks you’ve changed, not only appearance wise but you seem way more outgoing, carefree, and happy. Did he miss the boyfriend announcement picture? He’s sure he didn’t, he checks your profile almost every day and he’s never even seen him in any of your stories.

A gasp escapes your lips once you spot him, completely forgetting about the possibility of bumping into him given that both your schools were playing against each other that night. You tell Namjoon you’ll be right back and he nods, going back to a conversation with the group of college friends you had made.

You surprise him by jumping into him, arms around his shoulders as you hug him from behind. You let out a shrill of excitement and he blushes as his friends chuckle at the unexpected approach from this unfamiliar girl.

‘‘Jungkook! You didn’t tell me you’d be here,’’ you say once he turns around to face you and he’s able to see you better upfront. You look beautiful and he thinks the Instagram pictures are not doing you enough justice. You’re glowing, and it has nothing to do with the highlighter you applied on your face and collarbone area.

The both of you aren’t able to properly talk until you suggest moving to a different area, Jungkook apologizing to his friends as he explained he needed to catch up with an old friend. They don’t complain and instead shoot him teasing looks and small pervy comments that go by unnoticed to you.

Jungkook listens with intent to your ramble about what you’ve been up to. From your courses, to your roommates, the parties you’ve attended, and even the fact that you handle your alcohol better now. He’s happy that you seem so too, but it irks him that you hadn’t been capable of telling him that you had a boyfriend now. Is there a reason as to why you omitted that important piece of information?

‘‘And what about you? How’s college?’’ You ask with curiosity.

He blinks a few times, realizing you had stopped talking about yourself and was now wondering about him instead. ‘‘It’s fine,’’ he answers with a tight lipped smile, the lack of detail compared to you was astonishing, but even though you were still hungry for more you decided not to pry any further.

There’s fear in revealing that he’s been having a hard time catching up with the rest of his peers. College was indeed fine, but it could be better. He’s settled with the idea that this is as good at it’ll get, some things just aren’t like you expect them to be. At least you’re happy, and that fact brings him comfort.

‘‘Was that your, uhm─boyfriend?’’ He finally asks after a while, both about to head back to your respective group of friends.

The question takes you by surprise, looking at him with raised eyebrows and mouth agape. ‘‘Who? Namjoon?’’ He nods, though he doesn’t know anything about the guy he had first seen you with. You let out a wholehearted laugh, ‘‘Hell no, too many commitment issues with that one,’’ you answer and Jungkook’s forehead creases with confusion.

Why were you kissing him then?

‘‘We’re friends with benefits,’’ you inform him as if you had read his mind. ‘‘He’s a nice guy, though. Also, super smart, he’s helped me with a few of my─’’

‘‘You’re not a virgin anymore?’’ He abruptly asks, disbelief in his tone as he internally screams to himself for thinking out loud. Jungkook expects you to berate him about such an imprudent question, but is surprised when he sees you giggling.

‘‘Duh, silly. I think I lost it freshman year?’’ The carelessness in your voice makes him look at you like you’ve gone crazy. Why are you so lax about this? Why are you telling him about losing your virginity without a care in the world? ‘‘Anyway, are you going to be home for the─’’

Jungkook interrupts you once again, ‘‘Was it with your boyfriend at the time?’’ He asks in genuine curiosity and you sigh, rolling your eyes slightly at him.

‘‘No, it was some random dude at this party I went to. Could you please─’’

‘‘Y/N, are you insane? Why would you give up your virginity to some fucking stranger like it’s nothing?’’ Jungkook’s voice raises as he scolds you about being so negligent about yourself, ‘‘You can’t do shit like that!’’ He fumed, making you let out a breathless chuckle.

‘‘Could you stop treating me like a fucking child for once in your life? I’m perfectly fine, Jungkook. I’ve been doing pretty well for myself without you here, actually. I don’t know why you think you have a say on what I do, is it the entitlement you have of me that you still carry around because we grew up together? Because if that’s it then you can drop it, I let go of my little girl who wanted a friend and was treated like pure shit in return complex a long time ago.’’

He knows you’re right, but he thinks he’ll always have this odd sense of protection over the five year old girl who cried to his mom about not lending her his favorite toy. He’ll always want to apologize to the eight year old girl who declared her love for him with a Valentine’s Day card while he ended up breaking her heart in exchange. He’ll always wish to look for help within the twelve year old girl who witnessed him give out his first kiss to another girl who he didn’t even like. He’ll always feel guilty towards the sixteen year old girl who had gotten tipsy on a spiked fruit punch and crashed on his bed. He’ll always hate himself for not asking the seventeen going on eighteen year old girl to prom when he knew he could’ve, but chose not to in fear of ruining your friendship.

You only wanted someone to be there for you growing up and Jungkook had never been the brave boy you thought he was, always running from his fears in hopes he’d have a wide advantage margin from them. Yet here they are, standing right in front of him in the form of a twenty year old you, and they’re there to let him know that you’ve never needed him, yet he’s always needed you.

He can’t even apologize, he only looks at you with wide eyes as he fidgets in his place. Either you’re both too old now to understand each other or you just realized that you’ve outgrown Jungkook.

Your mouth set in a hard line as you crossed your arms, the night’s breeze feeling colder than usual. ‘‘I miss you Jungkook, but I can’t keep playing this cat and mouse game with you any longer.’’

You leave him behind to go back to Namjoon’s arms, seeking refuge in his sweet embrace as you try your hardest to put on practice what you learned all those years ago when Jungkook broke your heart for the first time, you should be used to it by now.

You’re twenty-one when you’re back in your hometown to attend the funeral of the old lady down the street, the one that always scolded you and Jungkook growing up.

You had been scared of her as a child, but always following along your friend’s footsteps when he proposed playing around her garden. It tugs at your heartstrings even if you hadn’t known the woman well. Her death was imminent seeing as she’d been ill for quite some time.

A taller figure stands next to you as you both stand way in the back of the ceremony. He looks tired and you figure that it’s because of the fact he arrived late into the night, you heard his car’s engine from your bedroom window. Dressing in all black, you notice he bought a new suit. You’re sure that the one he wore for prom no longer fits considering he’s bigger now.

You haven’t talked to each other since last year when you both left off on a sour note. The hurt you felt was no longer present, though. You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought of a way you could talk to him again without making things awkward, but you let out a small gasp once he placed his arm around your shoulders, giving it a small squeeze as he sighed and kept his focus on the service.

Watching the casket be lowered into the ground felt weird. She was a human being just like you, but her existence was a reminder of your childhood. Would it be okay to say that her death meant a part of you leaving with her too?

Once it hits you, it’s Jungkook who consoles you by hugging you tight. Your eyes are too blurry with tears for you to realize this is one of those rare moments where he’s holding you close without hesitation. He lets you ruin his tuxedo’s jacket with your mascara covered tears as he brushes your hair as a sign of comfort.

You know things are back in order when he proposes the idea to go back to the old lady’s porch, for old times sake. ‘‘Will we ever let her rest?’’ You ask him with a small laugh as Jungkook sits on the doorsteps of the old lady’s empty home, opening the bag of candy worms he bought at the grocery store.

He shrugs, ‘‘She loved us, always told my mom how much she missed us running around the street.’’ The revelation makes you smile, hoping it was true. He pats the empty space next to him, indicating for you to fill it up with your presence. Once you do, you feel the familiar warmth of his proximity.

Jungkook seems different and you only hope he’s changed for the best.

‘‘When are you going back?’’ You ask him with curiosity, hoping that he’ll be in town for a few more days so you can catch up with him on a better note this time around.

He munches on one of the snacks, ‘‘Tomorrow morning, I have training camp and can’t miss it.’’ His answer makes you sigh with disappointment, but you nod nonetheless. ‘‘What about you?’’ He asks in return, and you inform him that you’ll stay for a few more days to spend time with your family. There’s silence after that and Jungkook can only offer you the gummy worms in the bag, you take one with a small thanks.

‘‘College fucking sucks,’’ he says out of nowhere and it makes you look at him in bewilderement, ‘‘I hate it there, I wanna drop out so bad. But I’m a year away from graduating so it’s too late now.’’ You see his shoulders visibly relax, like a weight had been lifted off them. ‘‘Plus my mom would kill me if I do so,’’ he adds with a chuckle.

Last time you asked everything was fine. Had things changed or had they always been this way and he was just now being honest with you?

You rest your head on his shoulder and focus all of your undivided attention on him as he keeps rambling about what his life has been ever since he left this town. He’s had bad games, bad grades, and bad girls. But he’s also had incredible games, good grades, and a couple great hookups, and yet he still feels empty, it’s not enough.

‘‘I miss you,’’ he mumbles as he faces you, ‘‘I’m sorry for being such a shitty friend, you deserved better.’’ His apology is genuine and you can feel it in the way his voice trembles, sincerity has always scared him after all.

Jungkook’s never known when the time is right, and he misjudges the look on your face. When he leans down to press his lips against yours, he’s blinded for a mere moment into believing that you wanted to kiss him just as much as he had been waiting.

You abruptly separate from him with wide eyes and parted lips, ‘‘Jungkook, I’m─I’m dating Namjoon now.’’ He can physically feel his heart shatter, the revelation coming out like an old newspaper headline he should’ve read a long time ago.

He lets out a breathless chuckle, ‘‘He got over the commitment issues?’’ The rhetorical question is bitter.

You scoff, ‘‘And what about it? I preferred to wait than to rush into getting my heart broken.’’ Plus it’s not like you were expecting Namjoon to grow feelings for you, the whole no strings attached arrangement was named that way for a reason.

Jungkook looks at you with narrowed eyes and he shakes his head sightly. Old habits never die down, still so stubborn and challenging as ever.

He’s startled as you stand abruptly, fuming as you look at him, ‘‘I don’t even know why you care! Did you forget that you threw my Valentine’s Day card into the trash? Or that you kissed Yeji in front of my face? Or that you let Taehyung date me as prank between your friends? Or that you were making out with Eunha while Jimin kept giving me alcohol? Or that you asked Jaehyun to take me to the stupid prom even though I was perfectly fine going without him or anyone for that matter?’’

‘‘We were just kids!’’ Jungkook argues back at you.

‘‘It still fucking hurt,’’ you counter, ‘‘still hurts, actually. You think that by giving me a measly apology and kissing it better I’ll suddenly forget about all of it?’’ Jungkook knows it won’t ever make up for all those years, but he had at least hoped you’d be willing to give him a chance.

He wishes he could say something else. Explain that he had just tried to protect you in his own shitty way from everyone else or himself maybe, he doesn’t know anymore. He wants to speak up again, but there’s disappointment written all over your face, you’re not angry at him...just saddened.

‘‘Hope you have fun at your training camp.’’

Jungkook watches as you leave him sitting by himself on the old lady’s doorstep. A hand runs through his hair as he feels his eyes water, and he can almost hear a whisper in the wind that asks him why he didn’t stop you when he could’ve.

Jungkook didn’t think that his family coming together with yours for Christmas dinner would’ve been a great idea. You’re cold to him at first and it’s fitting for the winter weather, but as always it only takes for him to sit next to you for things to warm up again.

It’s with the excuse that you’ll run over to your house to grab a new bottle of wine from the kitchen counter that Jungkook trails behind you, both slightly tipsy on the different alcohols your families had offered each other.

Years have passed since he last stepped foot inside your home, you used to visit him more often than he did anyway. It still smells and looks the same; the only difference is that there’s new pictures of you hung up on the walls, updated accordingly to the changes you’ve made ever since you left off for college.

You’re sporting a big smile in all of them, which in exchange makes him copy the action as well. His lack of presence in your life has done you better than compared to when he was around, and if that’s the case, then at least he did something right.

There hasn’t been much said since the beginning of the night, just a simple hey out of courtesy. There’s so much he wants to say, but with no clue where to begin. Another apology is due, though he thinks it’s a little too late for that. He also wants to ask about what you’ve been up to since he last saw you, are you still dating the Namjoon guy you had told him about after he kissed you? If he’s still there, Jungkook rather keep quiet and not wonder out loud to you, he’s sure that it’ll hurt if it’s true.

Growing up Jungkook always mistook your bravery with stubbornness and your courage with relentlessness. You’ve always been challenging, but only because you wanted him to do so too. It’s moments like this that prove him that you’ve always been the stronger between the two.

‘‘So, we’re just gonna pretend like nothing’s wrong between us?’’ You ask, speaking directly to him for the first time that night. It makes him look at you like a deer stuck in headlights, surprised by the sudden question and out of all the years of knowing each other, he feels small under your gaze for once. ‘‘How much time is it going to pass until you want to finally talk things like adults?’’

Jungkook gulps the lump in his throat, his brain quickly thinking of the right thing to say, ‘‘I just wanted to protect you from─’’

‘‘From what? From you? Everytime you’ve done that I end up getting hurt in the end. I’m left to pick the pieces up by myself,’’ you interject with anger in your voice. ‘‘It fucking pisses me off that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you kissing me, I haven’t stopped thinking about you and─’’ A sigh, you close your eyes to center yourself again as Jungkook waits for the final blow, ‘‘and you look like none of this has ever bothered you in the slightest because, you don’t really care about me do you?’’

‘‘I do care about you.’’ He’s sure about it, even though he’s been extremely bad at showing it.

Even though your eyes are threatening to spill tears, you still muster up the last bit of what’s left of your courage to step closer to him until you’re a few inches away. ‘‘Prove it, then. Show me that you care.’’

His brain is sent into quick overdrive due to your close proximity. There’s a slight hesitation because he only hopes that what he’s about to do is what you’re demanding him to prove. He doesn’t care if you’re still dating the Namjoon guy because he’s settled with the idea that it’s okay if you don’t correspond, it’s not like he did the same to you when you were both younger.

Once his lips press against yours, there’s no turning back. He’s waiting for you to push him back and let him know that your heart’s still taken, but you kiss him with such fervor that he knows in that moment that you’re right, it’s better to wait than to rush right in.

It’s no fairytale kiss, though. There’s desperation in the way you chase his lips, as if you were to slow down he’d find a way to escape from you. You grip the cotton material of his crewneck into your small fists, holding on to the fabric like your life depended on it. The small kiss you had both shared last year was nothing compared to this, and Jungkook’s taken aback by your neediness.

He doesn’t know how you manage to drag him to your childhood bedroom without missing a beat, only separating once you both realize you need to catch your breaths, and even then Jungkook can’t have a minute to take just happened in because your lips attach to his neck to get more of a taste. His fingers curled around your arm, sighing at the way your kisses felt like electricity on his skin.

‘‘Y/N,’’ he calls your name out in a breathy tone, but you’re too immersed in your little bubble to even realize it.

Jungkook groans when you bite into the skin of his neck, then blowing over the red mark as you kissed it better. It’s going to be bruise and he doesn’t like when that happens, but he’s not bothered at all if it comes from you. He forcibly grabs your chin so you can face him, looking at him with big eyes, a small pout, and with your chin messed with drool.

It’s then that Jungkook kisses you hungrily, making you feel like you’re in a dream-like state, though you could partially blame the Christmas eggnog for that. The way he bites at your lips and how your tongues clash together is an extreme juxtaposition as to how you could describe this moment. It’s as if you’re floating on air, clouds surrounding you in a heavenly embrace, angels singing in the background every time his hands touch, grab, hold and caress every part of your body. And yet, even with such a difference, it’s perfect because it’s Jungkook. You’ve been waiting for this too long, which is why your hands creep beneath his crewneck, touching his tonified abdomen tentatively and enjoying the way goosebumps arise on his skin at the sensation of your fingers trailing patterns wherever they caress.

It’s only fair that he pays attention to yours as well. Jungkook’s lips trail from your mouth onto your jawline, planting wet kisses on each space until he begins sucking on the skin of your neck, making you moan in the process. He chooses then that his new favorite sound is the way you voice out the pleasure he gives you. ‘‘Hurry up,’’ you say, ridding the bottom of the crewneck higher over his stomach, making him shiver at the sudden change of temperature.

Jungkook chuckles before completely getting rid of the material, ‘‘Calm down,’’ he sighs as he gives you a sweet smile, ‘‘You know our moms could talk forever.’’

You ogle his chest, admiring the way his training camps have obviously done wonders to his body. ‘‘It’s not them I’m talking about,’’ you correct him with a teasing smile that only makes his grin grow wider, chuckling at your impatience. Jungkook lets out a small gasp of surprise when your hands grasp at his shoulder blades, turning him around so you can back him until the back of his knees hit the edge of your bed. It’s funny how he lets himself be bossed around by someone who’s way smaller compared to his frame.

Jungkook finds leverage on his elbows splayed against the mattress, your knees resting on each side of his hips as you leaned into him and kissing him just as widely as you had done before. Jungkook could fill just how quick things were escalating, especially the way his crotch area was beginning to become a problem he couldn’t possibly control at the moment, not with your own being directly on top of it. In any other situation he would’ve apologized with an awkward laugh, but his breath hitches once your hips start grinding over him.

His hands make their way on the inside of your knitted sweater, provoking goosebumps on the exposed skin. You let out a shaky laugh, halting your movements so you can quickly get rid of the fabric as Jungkook’s eyebrows lift in surprise at your haste and then at the sight of your bra covered breasts. His hands are still steadily placed on each side of your waist, only brought up because your own had redirected them over your breasts, hoping he gets the message on what you want him to do now.

Jungkook hesitantly squeezed one of the round globes, provoking a small moan to come from out of your lips. He wishes to hold you as close as he possibly can because the idea of ever being away from you again has been his main fear as of lately. But he refrains, you look so delicate and he feels like you could easily break. He stares at your body lovingly and your cheeks heat up at the way his eyes ogle your chest like a kid in a candy story. You give his arm a light slap and he chuckles, leaning over you to place a passionate kiss on your lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he says frankly. It doesn’t help to dissipate the flush on your face, but the compliment doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Jungkook leans in to trail kisses past your collarbones and into the swell of your breasts, making you bite your lip with anticipation. He looks at you asking for permission and you nod quickly with parted lips as you start to become impatient for him to make his next move. Jungkook lowers the cups of your breasts, freeing your hardened nipples and immediately envelopes one of them with his lips. “Mph—!” A sigh escapes your lips as you try to memorize the way his tongue traces over your tit. He pays attention to your other one, fingers rolling over the bud and pinching ever so often.

You can feel your panties damp by then, trespassing into the fabric of the black leggings you’re wearing over them. Reaching behind your back, you fumble in unclasping the hooks of the now uncomfortable bra. Jungkook’s forced to stop the undivided attention he had places on your breasts to look at you like he’s lost, why are you going so fast?

Once your hands delve with the buckle of his belt, he has to hold on to your wrists with a firm grasp, ‘‘What are you doing?’’ He asks with quick breath, you blink stoically towards him.

‘‘Uh─getting you naked?’’ You answer with a nonchalant tone, but his hands don’t let go and your demeanor changes, ‘‘D-Did you not want this?’’ Your voice turns smaller, embarrassed that maybe you had pressured him into something he didn’t want to participate in.

Jungkook quickly shakes his head no, ‘‘No, I-I do want this! It’s just─you’re going so fast,’’ he tries to explain, ‘‘I’ve been waiting for this for too long, I don’t wanna rush.’’ Your eyes lit up at the revelation as he waits for you to answer back, only for his back to hit the comforter with a small thud, giggling at the way you urgently kiss him again, but this time with much more care.

‘‘Why didn’t you say so before, stupid?’’ You mumble with a sheepish look, ‘‘I thought it was just going to be─nevermind, I need you right now.’’ You have to force yourself from spitting out any details that could possibly ruin the moment between you two, deciding to wait instead for any emotional confessions you want to make.

He switches positions between the two, panting as he brings you down to the mattress and Jungkook can feel the goosebumps on your skin, whether from the coldness of the room or because of the sheer electricity of his hands caressing your body like it was molded just right for him. He dips his hand lower, cupping your clothed heat on his hand. It makes you tremble and you whine, encouraging him to keep going.

“Baby, you’re really wet,” he comments with a teasing tone and you pout at him. His fingers hook into the waistband of your leggings and he pulls them down as he travels with them, greeted by the sight of the damp cloth of your panties. He exhales with content, caressing your thighs in an up and down motion. You twist underneath him and he has to hold your hips down to calm you down, “Patience is a virtue.”

“I’ve been too patient, do some—Ah!” Your whining is interrupted once Jungkook moves your underwear to the side holding it with his free hand, fingers coming to trace the slick covering your pussy lips. He becomes entranced with the transparent gooey liquid, bringing them close to his face as he separates his fingers and sees a strand connecting between them. “Guk-ah, p-please…” Your needy voice brings him back to reality, delving his fingers back into your exposed heat but this time with intent.

Jungkook’s thumb lifts the hood covering your clit, mouth coming down to give it a small tentative kiss. That action alone has you writhing above him, it makes him chuckle to himself as he dives back in. The moans you let out are loud and clear inside your bedroom, thankful that it’s only you and him inside your house. Your hand pulls at his hair, making him groan against you and the vibrations are felt throughout your body, only adding to the euphoric pleasure you already possess. His fingers trace the inside of your thighs until they reach your entrance, circling the fluttering hole which makes you pull at his hair harder and with your other you hold on to the bedsheets of the comforter tightly into your fist.

Jungkook’s tongue is still working your engorged bud, but he focuses his eyes on you as he dips the first finger inside you. “Oh—fuck,” you let out in a breathy moan. He tries to maintain a rhythm between his two ministrations, but it’s hard when he wants to focus on all of them at once. “‘Nother, please,” you begged once he let your clit rest, quickly following your request by adding another into your warm heat. He lets out a breathless chuckle as he notices how easy it is to thrust both fingers inside of you, your whole crotch area is covered in slick and his wet chin is a dead giveaway to where he was seconds ago.

He watches you unravel over him with such adoration, not even his wettest dreams or dirtiest fantasies could prepare him for this. Seven minutes in heaven he plans to stay in forever. “Guk-ah, I wan’ you. I-Inside, please.” You plead with teary eyes, and he slowly stops, removing his arousal covered fingers from inside you as he makes you sigh in the process. He kisses you again and again, your hazy brain is probably hallucinating all of this right now, but damn is it good. You tug at the crewneck he’s wearing, he’s too overdressed for this occasion. He tends to your demands, quickly getting rid of all the layers of clothing that stop him from being inside of you fully.

“I don’t have a—“

“I’m on the pill.”

You both speak at the same time, making each other chuckle. Jungkook gulps at the idea of taking you raw as the first time together, and you salivate at his hardened length; the head already oozing precum out and you want nothing more than to wrap your lips around it and lick the tip up. You’re just about to when Jungkook quickly grabs your wrist to stop you from reaching him, you look up at him with the big sparkly eyes he has loved for too long.

“I just—I wanna be inside you right now,” he sheepishly admits, and you smile with a nod; sharing the sentiment. You back up until your head rests on the pillows comfortably, relaxing into the mattress as you wait for Jungkook to ready himself. He places a kiss on your lips before placing a hand next to your head, using it as leverage above you. His free hand takes his cock and rubs the tip along your folds, making you squirm with anticipation. Jungkook chuckles, “Are you ready?” He asks with a sweet smile.

“I’ve always been,” you whisper, your hand tucking a strand of his long hair behind his ear.

A caress to his cheek as he nods, slowly pushing the head of his dick into you. You bite into your lip hard, it’s been a while since you had sex with someone and Jungkook’s size and girth was different from the rest. Your walls are tight around him and he has a tough time trying to reach the hilt with you squeezing him so hard, “Baby, relax for me.” He pleads and you nod apologetically, breathing in deep as you feel him reach parts inside of you, you didn’t know existed. Once he’s all the way in, he waits for you to give him the go ahead while he presses kisses into your heated cheek. You wrap your legs around his waist and give him a nod, letting him know he was allowed to start thrusting.

Jungkook manages to hit all the right places, keeping a steady pace as he enters and exits you each time. You’re left to moan and writhe underneath him, letting him take you as he pleases. Your kisses become messy, teeth biting into each other’s lips, teeth grazing against each other as you both tried to fight for the dominant position. It’s that heavy makeout that incites you to push at his shoulders, making him turn in his back, exiting you in the process. Jungkook pants, chest rising and falling with quickness as you straddle his lap, arms connecting behind his neck.

“You always want to win, right?” He chuckles with half lidded eyes, enjoying the way your pussy lips grinded over his twitching length. You bat your eyelashes at him, offering him an innocent smile. The same technique that used to get you everything you wanted when you were younger. Same determination as you seek for what’s yours. He’s under you after all, still a victim to your charms.

Jungkook takes the bulbous head of his cock and teases it in your clit, if you weren’t holding on to him tight you would’ve collapsed into his chest. And by the way you moan his name out, he knows you’ll always look for him no matter the weather. “What a pretty girl,” he coos into your hair and you pinch his nipple in retaliation which only makes him groan in return. “My pretty girl.” He states before sinking himself deep into you again, sighing at the feeling of your hips circling over him. His rough hands guide them as you bounce up and down his length, moaning every time you rose and hissing when you came back down.

He makes sure to keep this image engraved on his head forever. Your breasts bouncing over his face, your thighs working extra hard to keep up with his thrusts, and the way your sounds bounced off the walls of your bedroom.

“You’re doing s-so good, baby.” Jungkook praises you, kneading your ass cheek. “Taking my cock s-so well,” he falls into a trance of admiring the way his length would appear and disappear inside of you, covered in a thick layer of your arousal. It makes him drill into you faster, sitting properly against the bed’s headboard as he takes your hips with force. He’s too turned on to keep treating you so delicately, and the way you moan and pant at the increase in speed only lets him know you enjoy him like this way more. “I-Is it good, baby? Am I-I fucking you well?” He asks in between rapid thrusts, your thighs had given out by then.

You nod and a whimper escapes your lips, “Y-yes, Guk-Ah. S-so good, feels amazing.” Your praise is honest, the fucked out tone in your voice is a clear indicator of how well of a job he was doing. A minute longer and you’ll be right on cloud nine, never wanting to come back down. “Wanna cum Guk-Ah, plea—“ There’s no need for you to even finish your sentence because his thumb rubs your clit in figure eights, making you groan with the intensified feeling of his hips circling inside you deliciously. You can almost see the blinding white light ahead as Jungkook kisses you feverishly. You feel tears escape the corners of your high, the familiar feeling tickling inside you as Jungkook’s thrusts don’t let up. ‘‘Ah! Yes, yes, fuck,’’ you cry out once your orgasm hits. Jungkook holds you close to his chest, trying to soothe your shaking body with his arms. Your walls squeeze and relax continuously around him, it serves him as the impulse he needs to chase his own high.

‘‘I love you, Jungkook,’’ you confess in between panting breaths, ‘‘so much.’’

His release shoots out and he groans, digging crescent moons into your hips. You hiss at the sensation, but giggle at how his eyes are screwed shut and brows still furrowed together, as if he was holding on to the last of his orgasm. In reality, Jungkook is just hoping that once he opens his eyes you’ll still be in his arms. Your fingers tilting his head to face you are very much real, he sees spots once he opens his eyes as they adjust to the room’s lighting.

‘‘I love you too.’’ He says with a fixed gaze and you coo at how perfect this is.

You’re twenty-two when Jungkook’s finally yours.

You’re both twenty-three and it’s another weekend spent at his apartment, he’s been playing for three hours now and you’ve given up on having him pay attention to you. Deciding to switch your plan around and join him instead, if only he would let you play.

‘‘Jungkook, you said it was going to be my turn five rounds ago!’’ You complain with a pout, crossing your arms across your chest.

His gaze is still stuck on the T.V screen, ‘‘Baby, shhh, you’re gonna make me lose.’’ He mumbles as he tries to remain concentrated on the game in hand, but he can hear your humph’s from behind him, ‘‘Patience is a─’’

‘‘Virtue, yeah, who cares.’’ You interrupt him with a roll of your eyes, familiar with the saying a little too well. ‘‘Hope you remember that for later tonight,’’ you add in a mumble, but he doesn’t hear it because of the loud sounds coming from the game on the screen.

‘‘What did you say, babe?’’ He asks with a raised brow, hitting the buttons of the controller with expert ease.

‘‘I’ll call your mom and tell her you don’t wanna share.’’ You joke with a threatening voice, but Jungkook knows better than to take your words so lightly. He pauses the game and turns to look at you with an are you serious? expression on his face, you giggle as you’ve finally got what you wanted.

He apologizes by covering your face with kisses, pleading for you not to tell on him with his mom. You promise not to do so this time, knowing that the woman was probably tired of having to scold his son at his big age.

Plus, ever since Jungkook surprised you with the almost exact replica of the Valentine’s Day card you gave him all those year back, you’ve taken advantage to tease him even more knowing he’s at your beck and call. You always remind him that he came close because the stickers he used were not like the ones you had, but he remembered to add the hearts on the I’s so that’s good enough.

‘‘Alright you can play, but━!’’ He says after he finishes his attack of kisses, ‘‘I’ll be your guide, I can’t risk you messing my record up, no offense baby.’’ None taken as you nod excitedly, you’ll always take whatever chance he gives you.

Jungkook’s finally learned how to share his toys after all.

#heartsforbts #bangtanhq #btswritingcafe #jungkook smut #jungkook au #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #jungkook fic #bts smut #f: year 22

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