Be thankful I'm not live blogging this Naruto rewatch cuz I have alot to say
Every single one of the Hargreeves siblings would look good in a dress and I'm deeply offended by this fact.
Emma To Bruce
I woke up this morning to find it was an improbably beautiful day with bright blue skies and those cute little white scudding clouds. “All right,” I thought. “There is no way I am spending this gorgeous day in wonderful London inside this falling-down house, scrubbing the floors and brooding about ghosts. The question: how to convince Julian that we should go out and have fun?”
I marched upstairs and found Julian drinking coffee in the kitchen. I said, “Jules. You know that thing you want me to do, that I’ve been refusing to do? If you come out and have a good time with me today in London, I’ll do it.”
A big grin spread over his face. He said, “OKAY!” In fact, he said it as he was already running out the door. I had to get him to come back for a jacket.
Bruce, we had an absolutely great time in London. We took a boat ride down the Thames. We went to a costume shop. We saw the Tower and went to Fortnum and Mason’s and had tea. Julian ate all my cucumber sandwiches because I hate them. We went on the London Eye, which is like a more spectacular version of the Ferris wheel on the Santa Monica Pier. Demons did not attack this time, and Julian booked a whole pod so that we could snuggle and cuddle.
In the middle of the snuggling and cuddling, Julian stopped and stared into my eyes with an intense look. I could tell he had something to ask me, and for a moment I thought—well, it doesn’t matter what I thought.
“Emma,” he said, “what would you think about moving to London with me?”
I said, “What do you mean? We’re already here.”
He explained that he was thinking, if we got Blackthorn Hall all fixed up, we could live in it until Dru or Ty or Tavvy (or all three of them) grow up and want to move there. He explained that Helen and Aline were doing a great job running the LA Institute and that they don’t really need us. Besides, they’re thinking of starting a family soon so maybe they don’t want so many people running around the Institute. I said, “But I thought you liked Los Angeles, and practically everyone we know is there.” He pointed out that that wasn’t totally true. In London, we’d be closer to Ty, and pretty much the same distance from the east coast, where Dru is, and of course Mark and Cristina are in New York half the time, too. I think he could tell that I wasn’t sure what to say, because he added, “It’s really about us having a home, one that we make together. Being grown up, and having a grown up kind of life.”
I joked around, saying we were still pretty young, and he said, “I know that most people who get together when they’re teenagers break up. They get older and they change. I just want us to go through the important things together, so we change together. Does that make sense?”
I told him it did though I was pretty freaked out he even mentioned BREAKING UP as a concept. So I kissed him, which distracted us both, and when our pod came to a stop on the ground everyone cheered and whistled. The English are more lustful than I had previously suspected.
I was exhausted by the time we got home and discovered that our ghost friend had been active in our absence. In the dust on the dining room floor were written the words
FIND THE DEVIL TAVERN
Now what on earth does that mean? Though honestly, we were both kind of pleased to see the message. At least it’s a clue so that we can begin to unravel the mystery of our ghost and his silver band.
PS Bruce, I know you’re dying to find out what it was that Julian wanted me to let him do that I have been refusing to do. Remember when I said we went to a costume shop? Well, apparently Dru made Julian watch The Hunger Games with her the last time we were home, and he really really wanted to paint me like this.
The things we do for love.
werewolf! alpha Jeno x vampire! reader
warnings : imprisonment, torture, blood (not blood play), boob play, oral (female), unprotected sex, rut, breeding kink, knotting, cockwarming, mild angst, fluff (all in that order, kind of).
Having the ability of flight as one of the pure blood royal line vampires has given you the joy of turning into a bat, you just mastered the ability, thinking it would be safe to be flying about freely in the safety of your own coven, until you end up tumbling into one of those tiny cell windows you had always thought were drain holes, falling into the lap of one of the most dashing men you’ve ever seen walk the earth.
a/n : this is loosely based on the underworld movies and this is the second installment for my halloween event. please look forward to Haechan’s soon!
The night transcends back into darkness as the sun fades below the horizon, you can hear loud shutters of window panes opening, as you hop out of bed to start the day.
Being a vampire means you live hidden away from mortal eyes, your vampire coven shrouded by the magic casted over by the witch in your coven, witches tend to seek jobs among other magical creatures. You are the 13th princess of this coven, which sounds like you have a promising position among everyone, but in actual fact, you didn’t. The younger of the brood aren’t as aggressive as your older siblings, the ones that hunt with the coven, and fight in wars.
Vampires and werewolves have long been enemies, no one really knows why anymore, but there was much bloodshed between these two species. Killing occurred left and right, and a war would be raging soon. From what you had heard, your coven had successfully captured a prince of one of the biggest werewolf packs, which wasn’t an easy feat, although your coven is the biggest and oldest one.
You didn’t think much about it, only going to your classes with your younger siblings and hanging out after. You had recently developed the skill of transfiguring into a bat, under your sister, Irene’s care. You were soaring in the skies and under cars, enjoying your newfound freedom of flight. But to your misfortune, a strong wind picked you up and blew you near the main fortress, you lost control and fell into what you thought was the drain hole, which you later realised was a small window, and windows this tiny could only mean one thing, you were in one of the dungeon cells.
You fell into a prisoner’s lap, quickly trying to fly away, but he caught you. Your sharp bat eyes registered a handsome young man as he holds you in his strong grasp, his anger evident as a frown graces his face.
“Who are you?!” the young man started strangling your tiny bat throat, cutting off your air supply. So you had no choice, but willed yourself to become a person again.
Jeno had never thought that the tables would finally turn, he’d have the chance to give a vampire a taste of their own medicine for torturing him when he first got locked up, but when he forced the bat to turn back into a vampire, he couldn’t believe his eyes.
You are breathtakingly beautiful, in your black velvet dress, soft curls falling around your smooth skin, and eyes that shines as bright as the moonlight streaming in the small window. Jeno is curious, he had never seen such a beautiful vampire, the ugly ones that want to kill him yes, but were killed once his claws sink deep into their flesh.
“Who are you? I know only vampires of the dracula bloodline can turn into bats, so you better tell me the truth,” Jeno let go of the hand on your throat, but locked your body in his hold, his strength overpowering yours.
“I’m the 13th princess of this coven and killing me won’t do you any good, my father doesn’t even talk to me unless he has to,” you told him truthfully, hoping that he’d spare your life if you pleaded.
“Why not?” Jeno asked, but he doubted it, how could someone not love a daughter this beautiful, Jeno generally didn’t like vampires, and hate the ones that desire to kill him, but he can’t smell a lick of aggression in the air.
You were skeptic of his questions, but if there’s more talking, then he probably wouldn’t kill you as soon.
“We chose not to become hunters, I don’t like killing anyone...
Jeno’s eyes softened at your downturned face, avoiding his eyes, you must’ve been shamed for not upholding the cold blooded tradition.
“Are you going to kill me?” you said, volume almost a whisper.
Jeno released you from his hold, letting you scurry away from him in fear, backing into the opposite wall.
“I probably wouldn’t be able to kill you before you heal, you know?” Jeno said, gesturing the chain on his neck, it was coated in silver on the outside, it’s purpose is not to kill him, but weaken him significantly.
You scanned the cuts on his arms and gasped, some were still bleeding. You tore pieces of cloth from your dress, taking tiny steps to the wolf.
“I’m going to patch you up, alright?” you offered, you don’t know why, but growing up in the coven meant you had seen a lot of bloodshed, and seeing him like this, helpless and wounded, didn’t sit right with you.
“Don’t bother, I’ll heal soon,” Jeno said, turning his gaze away from you, why is a vampire helping him?
“You’re still going to have to wait a while, and leaving the wound exposed risks infections, even after they heal, then you’ll have to wait several more days for the infection to fade. It’s best that I patch it up for you, okay?” you persuaded, you can’t believe you’re offering to help a wolf, but he did spare your life, this is the least you could do for him.
Jeno is confused by your acts, are you here to kill him secretly? That shouldn’t be the case, these vampires wanted to cut off his head in front of his own pack, they wouldn’t plan on killing him in such a small scale way, vampires always loved to boast. Jeno nodded silently, sitting up straight for you.
You secured the make shift bandages on his wounds, as Jeno stared at you silently. He has never met someone with such a kind heart, you knew he could hurt you, but regardless, you chose to take a risk, just to help him, your kind’s sworn enemy.
“There, all done,” you looked at him as you kneeled back from your previous close proximity, giving yourself some distance to look at him from a better angle, as Jeno did the same, taking in your appearance once again. Jeno is really handsome, in your opinion, his face was sculptured to a perfection and he’s very well built, you could see his veins bulging as you patched him up, his sharp eyes looking back at you.
“What’s your name?” Jeno asked, interest peaking.
You told him your name, and asked for his as well.
“Jeno. Well, thank you, for your assistance. You should go back now, before anyone goes looking for you,” Jeno advised, knowing that if anyone were to find you here with him, you would be in great trouble.
“Oh, okay,” you didn’t know why, but you felt crestfallen at his words, like he was shooing you away, just like the other people here.
You took one last look at him, before turning back into a bat, flying back out from where you came from.
The next night, the same winged creature fell into his lap, panting in exhaustion.
“Do you have trouble breathing? Are you okay? Can you hear me?” Jeno asked, not knowing whether to worry about your well being first or why you’re here in the first place.
When you recovered from your long flight, you finally turned back into your mortal from, your dress heavy with food. You reached into one of your big pockets and produced two sandwiches, the smell of meat making Jeno’s stomach growl.
“Where did you get so much food?” Jeno asked, knowing well that vampires don’t eat.
“I flew to the human city nearby, do you like Subway?” you asked, handing the food to him.
“Thank you, you didn’t have to,” Jeno said as he unwrapped the sandwich, it was even heated up.
“I know they don’t really feed you here, since we don’t eat,” you offered.
“Isn’t it tiring? Flying like that?” Jeno asked, seeing from how careless you were yesterday, you might be very new to flying still.
“I’ll just treat it as exercise, no worries,” you dismissed.
Jeno reached for the food and took a bite, but he couldn’t stomach the guilt he felt, you flown so far away just to get him food, but why?
“Why are you helping me?” Jeno asked, he wanted to look mean, cold, he was supposed to be an underserving prisoner in your eyes, but you treat him like an equal instead.
“I... I don’t have friends here, except for a few of my siblings, and you’re around my age, so I thought I could make a friend,” you offered, yes you are quite close with Irene, but you never talk to her about anything personal.
Jeno paused mid bite as he observed you, seeing if he had heard wrongly, and how genuine you looked. He could see you were hopeful, is your life so confined to this area that you needed a friend that badly?
You were fiddling your fingers nervously as you awaited his reaction.
“Our kind are sworn enemies and you see me as a friend?” Jeno questioned, his tone a slight accusation, because he thinks he would never offer to be friends with the vampire kind if it weren’t for you initiating it, it feels like treachery.
“I didn’t choose to be a vampire, I don’t think my birthright has anything to do with the choices I make. Don’t you think so?” you retorted, not liking how he had used that tone on you.
At that moment Jeno felt foolish for his assumption, maybe he just hasn’t met a good vampire until today.
“I’m not opposed to having a friend like you then,” Jeno said as he smiled for the first time, in a long time.
You started spending every night, a few hours, being in this cell with Jeno. He told you about growing up with his pack, about his brothers and the mountain scenery where he lived, and his interests.
“It’s really beautiful, even at night, you can hear the distant sound of the waterfall clearly on the cliff, the stars are even clearer there. Maybe you could go there one day,” Jeno said as he recalled his home fondly.
“Me? What about you? Aren’t you going to take me there?” you asked, sitting up from your spot next to Jeno.
“Princess, I’m going to be locked up here and be killed once the time is right,” he couldn’t bear telling you that he was scheduled to be beheaded sooner than you think, Jeno’s grown to have a soft spot for you, and probably something dangerous and bigger than he had ever expected, but he knows what a fragile heart you have.
“No, you’re not. I’ll find a way, we’ll find a way,” you persuaded him, hoped.
“I’m not going to let you risk your position, hell even your whole life just to save me, you deserve to lead your own life. We have to stop seeing each other, you have to stop visiting me,” Jeno said firmly, sitting up as well, his tone suddenly serious, lecturing you.
Jeno could see you were close to tears at this point, he didn’t want to push you away, but he can’t be selfish, he won’t let you put your life on the line for him. What the two of you have right now is beautiful, and it’s so precious to him that he doesn’t want it to ever end, but to him, your existence is a flicker of treasure in this cruel world. These past 2 months will be his last happy thoughts ever stored in his memory before he dies.
“You don’t understand, Jeno. I can’t let you die, I love you,” you confessed, hoping that your feelings for him would be a sufficient explanation for him.
Jeno cradled his head in both his palms, he knows he’s in the deep end now, and you’re the person he’s drowning in, those three words struck a cord in his heart, and he didn’t want to be separated from you, he could just imagine how painful it’d be for the two of you.
“I love you too, Princess, I do, that’s why I have to let you go, don’t you understand? I can’t bear to see you in pain when I die,” Jeno could see tears streaming down your face as his own are blurred with them as well.
“Don’t say it like you’re sure you’ll die, I’m going to change that,” you didn’t want to argue with him anymore, so you changed back into a bat, and flew back to your chambers.
Jeno thought you wouldn’t be willing to see him anymore after last night’s spaz, but here you were, with his favourite food, glazed doughnuts and fried chicken. He was surprised you remembered, but not surprised that you had forgiven him so quickly, whenever Jeno thinks he’s finally crossed your line, he would always be surprised by the size of your heart.
“I’m sorry for running off like that last night,” you said as you opened the wrappers.
You’ve developed more strength from flying everyday, so as long as your clothes had large pockets, you would be able to bring him more food.
“No, I would’ve been mad if I were you, I shouldn’t have given up on hope like that, I guess being locked up here makes you feel hopeless,” Jeno said as he quickly ate his food, wanting to spend more time talking to you instead.
You curled up next to Jeno, your cold skin sending chills down his back, but he didn’t want to disturb your peaceful rest, you did fly many miles just for him minutes prior, he knows the closet human city won’t be too close by. Jeno held your hand in his clean one as you drew circles on his knee, your cheek laid upon his shoulder as you take in Jeno’s features up close.
Even though the two of you have sat next to each other, being this close was a first, but it felt so right, like Jeno was your missing puzzle piece all along. His warmth was something foreign to you, but it made you addicted to heat, pulling him closer to you, be damned if you burn from it.
“Do you still mean it? About what you said last night,” Jeno asked after finishing his doughnut.
“Which part?” you asked.
“When you said you love me,” Jeno was searching your face for answers, eyes staring into yours.
“Of course. What about you? Did you mean it when you said it back?”
“I love you, and I’ll say it a million more times if you need me to,” Jeno says, pulling you closer into his embrace.
“I love you too, Jeno,” you said before you looked up and kissed him, you were unsure when you kissed him gently, so Jeno pulled you into his lap by your waist, holding you close as he kisses you back with more passion, a hand coming up to cup your cheek, cradling your soft skin in his palm.
You could tell something was wrong with Jeno tonight, he hardly touched the gimbap he had told you he wanted yesterday. You reached out to touch him, but he pushed himself away, backing into the corner of the cell.
“Don’t, I’m sick. You should go,” Jeno says, eyes avoiding yours.
“I want to take care of you, and I wouldn’t get sick, I’m a vampire, remember?” you reminded him, a hand reaching out to the poor boy.
Jeno cursed at himself at the fact that you were immune to many things except sunlight.
“I’m just not feeling well, you should go, I need to rest,” Jeno said, hoping this excuse would suffice you.
You had not flown so far away with a pack of hot gimbap attached to your stomach in bat form and risk getting caught for him to shut you off like that. So you lunged at him, given that you are although not as strong, but your speed was at equivalent level, to feel his forehead and neck.
“You’re burning up. Are you having a fever?” you asked as you stripped off your coat, putting it over him as a blanket, from what you remember, fevers are supposed to make you feel cold.
“I’m not having a fever, just...
Jeno’s words were caught in his throat when he saw you in your thin dress, the weather started to get warmer, but he didn’t expect you to dress so much lesser. He quickly shut his eyes, but it was too late, the image of your cleavage and exposed thighs are burnt into the back of his mind.
“I’m in a rut goddamn it! That’s why I didn’t want you to stay,” Jeno confessed in an outburst.
You looked down at your outfit, forgetting the fact that you hadn’t change out of your nightgown before rushing out to buy him food, since the restaurant closes early tonight. You remember reading about ruts somewhere, that alpha wolves went through ruts now and then, and the only way to relieve a rut was through sexual pleasure.
You took off your shoes and your socks and climbed on Jeno’s tiny cell bed, stripping off your whole dress as you sat cross legged, beckoning him to you. You could see Jeno was fighting against his inner wolf as he shuffled front and back, his eyes closed shut but he could still see your beautiful body etched in his memory, so instead of waiting for him, you walked to him, holding him in your embrace.
“It’s okay, Jeno. You can touch me,” you said, your tone gentle, hoping to coax him to you.
“I-i don’t want to hurt you, Princess, I might not be able to control myself,” Jeno explained.
“It’s fine, the chain is still on, and I’m not porcelain, I would heal even if you do,” you persuaded.
Before you let Jeno have the chance to reply, you kissed him with much fervour, gently guiding his hands onto your body. His touch was gentle at first, but as you deepened the kiss, his inner wolf started showing, it started with rougher touches, his hand reaching towards your butt to grasp at the flesh, satisfied at how full his hand was, then his eyes started turning red, the sign of an alpha.
You quickly unbuttoned Jeno’s shirt as he guided you on the bed, revealing his heavenly muscles to your curious eyes as you palmed at his abs, then slowly travelling south to cup at his obvious erection, a gasp of surprise leaving you as you felt how abnormally big he was, which made Jeno’s ego swell on the spot.
You whimpered as Jeno begin marking your breasts, purple flowers blooming around your nipples as they stood tall, awaiting for his attention. Jeno’s hands begin travelling southwards to your core, noticing that you were already dripping with arousal when he had barely touched you. Jeno takes a nipple into his mouth as he dips a finger inside your wet cavern, making you moan his name aloud.
“You should be thankful this cell door is lined with a thick layer of silver, or everyone would know how much of a whore you are for me,” Jeno said when his mouth let go of your nipple with a pop.
Jeno resumed the sucking and light biting on your other nipple as he adds another finger into your dripping cunt, slipping in snugly next to his middle finger, he tries his best to loosen you up, knowing that without proper foreplay, he would most definitely hurt you. Jeno stops sucking your nipple to come up for air, smirking as he sees how pretty his handiwork is on your skin. He wastes no time before diving to your lower lips, tongue out, looking for your clit, he found it when he felt your legs jump up at the sudden pleasure, a cry of his name falling deliciously from your lips as he starts sucking your clit, slipping a third finger into the mix as your back arches into his touch, legs closing around his head as he continues to thrusts his fingers into you at a rapid pace, his mouth relentless. Your juices a large puddle on his bed, he’s going to enjoy jerking off to that when his rut kicks in again in the morning.
“Jen- Jeno, I’m...close...
Jeno quickly removes his fingers and detaches his mouth, if you came now, you won’t be able to take him later. You could feel tears threatening to escape when you felt your orgasm slipping away.
“Shh, it’s alright, I just want us to cum together,” Jeno said as he strips away his pants, revealing his cock in all its glory. You gulped when you saw how big it was, eyes growing as wide as saucers.
“How is that going to fit?” you asked, still not quite registering the size.
“It’s going to fit, don’t worry,” Jeno said as he coats himself in your juices, shuddering slightly at the contact.
Jeno scans your face one more time to see if you wanted out as he lined himself at your entrance, his hand cupping your cheek.
“If you want to stop, tell me now,” Jeno said, he wants this to be about you as well.
“No, I want you, Jeno, please,” you begged breathlessly.
Jeno starts slipping into you inch by inch, he knew you were a virgin, but god you are so tight, if he wasn’t restricting himself the whole day, he would’ve came halfway. Jeno could feel you tensing up near the end, so he whispered silent encouragements to you, telling you to stop tensing up. Once you relaxed your body, Jeno continued pushing in, the stretch wasn’t as painful as you thought, but it wasn’t a walk in the park either. Jeno ceased all actions when he was fully sheathed inside you, waiting for your signal to move.
You felt your walls opening up to him after a minute or two, the pain turning into pleasure. You’ve never felt so full mentally and physically your whole life, and you crave for more as you told him to move. Jeno started thrusting at a slow shallow pace, letting you adjust to his movements before he speeds up once you started telling him you felt good. Jeno kissed you deeply as he thrusted into you at a faster pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the once quiet cell along with moans of Jeno’s name coming from your mouth like a mantra, but you could sense Jeno was holding himself back, his expressions were an open book to you.
“Jeno... Don’t hold back, ruin me...
When those few words left your mouth, something inside Jeno snapped as he hooked one of your legs onto his shoulder, thrusting back into you at an easily accessible angle, going at an inhumane speed as you screamed his name, the tip of his cock hitting your sensitive spot over and over again with so much force that it made your eyes roll into the back of your head, you couldn’t think straight anymore, all your mind registers is the pleasure inflicted upon your insides as your nails dug into Jeno’s arms, the pain mixing with pleasure only fuels him to chase your highs at an even quicker pace. If you were human you’d be dead by now.
As you neared your high, you could feel the coil in your abdomen threatening to snap as your toes curled from the overwhelming pleasure, your eyes were barely open as your breasts were bouncing every time he thrusts into you, the sight making Jeno drool as he cups one of your breasts into his hand, throwing his head back as his length is being squeezed by your convulsing walls, signaling your high.
When Jeno rubbed rough circles on your clit, you lost it. Your legs shook as you let out a silent scream, tears streaming down your face, you could feel yourself squirting onto Jeno’s length as he lets out a grunt of your name, his cock swelling up inside you before you felt his length painting your walls white. Jeno uses his leftover stamina to ride out your high, before his knot forms and locks him inside you.
You nearly passed out when you were done, but you still felt ribbons of cum ejaculating from Jeno, making you confused.
“Why do you have so much?” you asked, confused by how different he is biologically even though he could fit right in with a vampire.
“I’m sorry, it’s a werewolf thing, and I’m stuck because of the knot,” Jeno explained.
“Oh,” you said, if you were a human you’d be heating up from embarrassment now, you didn’t know having sex with a werewolf means you’d have to cockwarm with him, though the idea doesn’t sound bad at all.
Jeno crashes onto the bed next to you when he stopped cumming, his length still snugly inside of you.
“Tell me when you’re about to leave, we’re going to be stuck with each other for a while,” Jeno said as he cuddles you, the wolf becoming a shy puppy as he tries to hide the blush on his face on the crook of your neck.
“And thank you, for giving me everything, I love you, Princess,” Jeno said as his eyes threatened to close immediately.
“I love you too, Jeno. Get some rest,” you said as you basked in the warmth of his body.
As two months flew by, Jeno knows he doesn’t have much time before he will be sacrificed in front of his whole pack at the start of the war, Jeno could hear the guards talking about the preparations that the soldiers are making when he strains his ears, using his wolf senses. He’s glad that you aren’t a fighter, that you wouldn’t see him killed in front of you, he hopes that you’ll forget him as time passes by, and that he’ll just fade into a flicker of reminiscence in your heart.
Jeno noticed that you’ve started dressing up more, always coming to see him in puffy gowns. He’s grown a habit of laying on your gown, the many layers of cloth makes your legs feel like pillows as he enjoys the way you run your fingers through his hair. You and Jeno have been intimate ever since that night, connecting to each other mentally and physically made you feel a sense of attachment towards him, even when you aren’t around him, you had this faraway look in your eyes, which made Irene question your focus in your studies.
All was going well until you overheard your father and a council member talking about executing a prisoner, which peaked your curiosity as you hid behind a shelf in the library, eavesdropping their conversation.
“He’ll be executed at the start of the war, where he’ll be beheaded in front of his own pack,” you heard your father say.
“This is the prince we’re talking about, I assume?” the council member replied.
“Yes, Lee Jeno, the one in cell D7,” and your heart drops at that short sentence.
You slammed a hand on your mouth, muffling your gasp of shock. So this is the reason why Jeno was only tortured, but not killed. You had to find a way to save him, but how?
You confided in your close friend who’s the clan’s newest witch, after her master was found killed by a pack of werewolves near clan grounds when the sun was still out. She suggested you the plan of stealing the key to the prisoner’s collars by giving you a potion that could make vampires sleep if they’re in mortal form, which means a bat wouldn’t be affected at all.
You executed the plan in the morning while most people were asleep, you knew where the head of guards were, the person who holds the keys to the collars. Vampires technically didn’t require any sleep, but sleeping makes vampires feel better, although they can willed themselves not to sleep.
You flew into his chambers through the air vents, the hardest part was unscrewing the bottle with your tiny bat paws, and when you got it, you could immediately smell the potion even though it had no effect on you, the guard’s snores immediately got louder, sinking into deeper sleep.
You looked around the small room to see the key resembling a bottle cork that your friend showed you, only to find a bunch hanging from his belt loops. You begrudgingly looked through the keys, looking for D7, and when you found it, you had to move it out of the ring carefully to avoid messing up and pushing out all the keys in accident.
You looped the key on your necklace and retrieved the bottle of leftover potion before flying off, a sense of hope blooming in your heart. Though, you still have to find a way to unlock his cell door which can only be unlocked by vampire blood from the outside.
That night you decided to meet Jeno earlier, having formulated a plan in your head for escaping this place with Jeno. You landed in Jeno’s lap, who was still asleep, startling him.
“Why are you here so early?” Jeno asked as he watches you transform into a person again. You quickly give him your necklace, hiding it under his shirt, for some reason, the charm of your necklace stung him.
“This is the key to free your co-
That’s when a loud bang rang out, you immediately turned back into a bat, and the doors swung open to reveal the council member who was talking to your father.
“What do we have here?! A bat?! Who are you?! You traitor!” the council member called out.
You tried flying away, but he was too fast, having trained as a fighter before, catching you in his grasp.
Jeno tried to attack him, but his collar held him back, the silver on the side burning into his skin.
The man choked your throat, forcing you to turn back into a human before you would be killed in your bat form.
“If this isn’t our youngest princess, useless brats of your father’s. I finally have an excuse to get rid of one of you. I knew I saw something fly in from the pavement just now. Guards! Escort the princess and the prisoner, we haven’t had a public torture and execution in years and I’m thirsty for blood to be spilled,” the man smiled in a crazed way, his eyes hungry for blood.
The guards detached Jeno’s collar from the wall as they guided him out with their silver swords in hand, escaping now would not work, he had to wait. When the guards were holding your arm a little bit too hard, Jeno felt his stomach lurch, yet it didn’t feel like the normal red hot anger he was supposed to feel, it was something different, but it still made him very much angry.
When they had reached outside, he could see the whole coven gathered under the make shift stage. The guards locked him into a giant cage made of silver. Then the evil man walked up the stage with a deranged glint in his eyes as he ordered his men to chain you up for everyone to see, Jeno caught sight of a man who looked somewhat like you, although the two of you had the same eyes, yours were always filled with love and kindness, while your father’s, for now, is filled with livid rage as his angry eyes look at you. Jeno couldn’t see your facial reaction towards your father, but he could see you visibly flinching in fear.
“People, we’re gathered here tonight to learn a valuable lesson. Do you recognise this girl? It’s our sweet little princess. I caught her fraternising with this mutt! In his cell! Tonight, I will commence a punishment for her as we always did for wrongdoers, with the traditional punishment, whipping, then death,” he announced to the citizens, some were shocked, but most were enjoying the drama and excited for the bloodshed.
The man took a long whip from a wooden crate, it was long and thick, with blood stains from previous captors. When the first whip cracked, your scream could be heard from a mile away as Jeno sees your exposed back, a tear in your dress as your skin breaks open to reveal a bloody gnash. For some reason, Jeno could feel a sting in his own stomach, just like the pain he felt in the dungeon, but ten times worse. You shuffled slightly, back hunched as you braced for the second whip. Jeno kneels as he mourns for the pain you’re suffering because of him, the charm of your necklace hitting his skin once again, stinging his skin, that’s when he remembered something you said, key, you called it a key. Key to what?
Jeno shuffles backwards where the guards can’t see him, he didn’t even need to act heartbroken, he already is, and took out your necklace. That’s when he realised, the word you were trying to say was collar, and from the looks of it, he could reach the lock if could just try to act out a scene.
“No, please! Torture me instead!” Jeno shouted, distracting the guards as he cups his ears with his hands, slipping down soon after to insert the key to his neck like he was pulling at his face. When the collar was off, he could feel his powers returning to him.
The people screamed as he transformed into a full fledge wolf, scaring the people, the man who was torturing you was distracted by Jeno’s loud howl as Jeno called on any wolves nearby, causing him to whip a bit of your side instead of back, striking a bit of your stomach, that’s when Jeno felt it, all this time the pain was connected to him because there was a baby in your stomach, his own child.
Jeno could feel a surge of anger inside him as he breaks open the cage, ignoring the sting on his skin. That’s when sees some wolves breaking the vampire’s defenses. Cries of war battle mixed with the snarling and howling as hell broke loose. Jeno immediately chews the man in half, in revenge for hurting the love of his life, he chews off your chains and lets you crawl onto his back.
When he felt your grip on his fur, he ran as fast as he can, attacking anyone who tried to kill you or him, he sent a message to his pack telepathically, telling them to fall back and focus on escaping. They formed a circle around Jeno and you, attacking whoever who came close before leaving the vampire grounds for good. Thankfully, his brothers had on protective armoury, or the silver bullets would’ve hit them if they weren’t careful enough, Jeno by luck, was only scratched by one or two bullets, his wounds healing quickly.
The wolves ran a few more miles before they stopped, putting a safe distance between them and the vampires, transforming back into their mortal forms.
“We attacked them unarmed, or we wouldn’t have been able to leave so easily,” Taeyong, the eldest of the princes said.
“Why did you save her, Jeno?! She isn’t one of us! She’s a bloodsucker!” Ten, his other brother accused.
Jeno lunged at his own brother, eyes blood red, a sneer on his usually kind face.
“Don’t you ever say that about her!” Jeno shouted, his face sat in a sneer.
When you heard the shouting, you sat up, but before you could reach up and stop them, you felt a wave of dizziness taking over you.
“She’s losing too much blood, she needs blood!” one of the members of the pack, Yuta said.
Jeno knocks over Ten, and rushes to your side, propping you up to meet his neck.
“It’s okay, Princess. Just drink,” tugging down his shirt for you to bite.
“No... I can’t, you’re hurt,” you said, weakly pushing Jeno away from you with no avail.
“It’s fine, I healed, you just need to drink a bit more for your body to start healing,” Jeno reassured you.
The others watch silently as you fed, your fangs piercing Jeno’s neck as he winces slightly from the sharp fangs. When you were done, your face wasn’t as ghostly anymore, the wounds on your back healing as you fall into peaceful slumber.
Jeno stands up to face his brothers and pack members again.
“I love her even though she’s a vampire, she’s not like them and she risked her life to show me kindness as I was trapped there. I will leave the pack if you want me to,” Jeno said determinedly, he’s not going to leave you when you’ve been nothing but good to him.
“No you’re not, Jeno. We’re brothers and we stick together, right Ten?” Taeyong said, ever the eldest being the wise one.
Ten only nodded, facing down, observing you.
“She’s pregnant isn’t she? I can feel a life inside her, that’s how you had the surge of power to break out,” Jeno’s closest brother, Mark asked.
“Yeah, I can’t leave her or our child, it’s my responsibility now,” Jeno said, making up his mind.
“Do you think it’s a vampire or a werewolf, Taeyong hyung?” Mark asked.
“I don’t know, all we can do is wait and find out, but whichever the child ends up to be, the baby will still be one of us now. Alright guys?” Taeyong asks, looking around to see if anyone wants to question his authority.
The whole pack muttered agreements, they transformed back into wolves later, choosing to run over waiting for Johnny and his van, leaving Jeno, Mark, Taeyong, and you.
“Were you guys on stand by tonight?” Jeno asked.
“Yeah, we were scouting for many days now, no brother gets left behind, remember?” Mark said as he wraps his brother in a hug, feeling grateful that he’s okay.
“Our Jeno’s all grown up isn’t he? I can’t believe you’re going to be a father soon,” Taeyong gushed.
5 months later...
“I told you the mountains are beautiful,” Jeno said as he held you close to him.
“Even in the morning,” even in the morning, you finished his sentence for him.
“Who knew our baby would’ve given you the immunity to sun. I remember how much you scared me when you first walked out,” Jeno said, thinking back to the time when you had experimented eating at first, then sun.
“We can finally walk hand in hand under the sun now, together,” you said, a peaceful smile on your face, no more running, no more hiding.
“Together,” Jeno said as he hugs you closer, a hand laying on your growing bump, a blossom of love coming to the two of you soon.
what about…what about dilf miya twins giving dilf kita a taste of you…bc when it comes down to it he’s their old captain after all…and it’s only right that if you’re going to get passed around, he gets you first
i hage totdmskee i Hate uYYOUUUU that is correct!
☀︎ MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY — dilf kita. dilf kita. dilf kita. voyeurism, exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), praise, daddy kink, bratty and spoiled reader
there’s no one on the old inarizaki team who doesn’t know about the miya brothers’ relationship with suna’s daughter. kita—who is newly divorced, now a single dad—vehemently disapproves of it, but maybe that’s just because the ugly face of jealousy is pooling low in his stomach.
he’s jealous of the twins’ relationship with a cute thing like you. you’re young and sweet, you make the brothers happy, make them feel like they’re young men again, but perhaps, you’re a bit too...spoiled.
and because osamu and atsumu respect kita so much to the point where they hate to see him dark and brooding, they decide to let their old captain have fun with you—you’re a ball of sunshine after all, there’s no way you wouldn’t make kita-san happy.
“your daddies spoil you too much, sweetie.”
kita says in his melodic voice before planting a quick kiss on your clit. your lips are formed into a deep pout, eyes narrowed at him, basically screaming no, i’m not!
kita arches his brow as if to say yes, you are and you whine at him, thighs squirming in his grip as you look to your daddies sitting on the couch. they look sheepish, probably because they know that kita’s right, but how can they not spoil you?
a pout on your lips and a few bats of your eyelashes will have osamu and atsumu giving you everything you want.
kita wants to teach you a lesson on patience, that there’s a different sort of gratification when things are done slowly, delicately.
you’re used to the fast and rough pace the twins regularly indulge you in, but only kita can show you the real pleasure of taking it slow, being thorough.
which is definitely why he’s been purposely shying away from your clit, languidly licking your folds and nipping the skin of your inner thighs. (he’s not saying it explicitly, but it’s a lesson for the twins too)
he taps your thighs, bringing your attention back to him as his thumbs rub slow circles on your marked skin.
“a cute pussy like yours deserves to be eaten slowly.”
and he dives in, lips gently sucking your clit as he keeps his eyes trained on your face. you moan at the relief, bunching the sheets between your fingers as your legs begin to shake.
kita’s grip on your thighs tighten to prevent you from moving around too much, his throat is humming a tune that sends vibrations through your clit, sending tingles down your spine.
he’s definitely slower and more gentle than the miyas, but his skill is no less pleasurable. in fact, it’s like you can feel his tongue even more—they way it slowly swirls around your clit, the little flicks, the details that the twins often forgo.
your hand reaches for his hair, tugging at the roots to push his face further into you, but the more you push, the more you whine, the slower kita makes his movements, so you resort to whimpering and gently stroking his hair instead.
“k-kita-san, that feels good,” you sigh, dropping your head back as you moan towards the ceiling. who knew slow pussy eating could feel equally as good?
kita repeats his slow movements for minutes on end until you become noisy and whiny again, fussy at his teasing. he decides that maybe, you have learned your lesson. if not, he can always do it again—if you let him.
he puts more pressure into swirling his tongue, alternating between circles along with up and down motions until your whimpering becomes louder and your thighs are visibly trembling.
you’ve been a good girl, he’ll let you cum. the tight spring in your lower stomach snaps, and your body convulses as kita licks and swallows your cum in his mouth, groaning out loud for the first time since this lesson started.
you taste like heaven, no wonder why the miya twins are obsessed.
he decides to have mercy on you, pulling away as he observes your glossy eyes, flushed cheeks, and heaving chest. you find yourself looking down on him shyly, and he gives you a beautiful smile.
he rubs your shaking thighs, kneading the skin with his calloused fingers as he plants small kisses. the brothers’ cheeks are flushed, having clearly enjoyed the change of pace.
“would you like to do this again?” kita asks you as he rubs down your arms comfortingly. you look to your daddies for approval, and they nod.
“yes, kita-san,” you say as you nod shyly, hugging his neck as he carries you towards his bathroom. he kisses the crown of your head and whispers against your hair.
“i’m your daddy now too, don’t forget that, my sweet.”
bad attitude | jjk | m
[ ! ] this is part of the bad influence collection. You can read it as a stand-alone though!
— summary; in which Jungkook finally learns how to behave. Kind of.
— contents and warnings; pwp, smut, badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, enemies with benefits/enemies to lovers, brattysub!kook x dom!reader, actually more of a switch!kook/switch!reader, the oc is kind of a demon with teasing because payback is a bitch, bondage, edging, dirty talk, begging, oral (m receiving), female masturbation, cockwarming, unprotected sex (don’t be dumb), creampie, stuffing, Taehyung makes a cameo, terrible use of the two wolves meme I’m so sorry
— words; 7,2k
— author’s note; yes I started this with a meme and no I’m not okay. This is kind of chaotic tbh but I wanted to write something a bit more unhinged and lighthearted after all that drama from the third part of the series. This happens some time after bad reputation.
Also! Take a look at the text messages that brought them to this moment ;)
Probably one of the dumbest things that Jungkook had ever heard came from his roommate and childhood friend, Taehyung, after a few hours scrolling through Facebook with a blunt hanging from the corner of his lips. Taehyung was in the deep web equivalent of social media: entrepreneur pages, where young, overly-dressed men with obviously rented convertibles promised to teach gullible people how to become millionaires by working at home (if you only pay for their courses). Nevertheless, what started as an ironic scroll through shallow motivational quotes quickly escalated into a semi-believable, mostly high rant about the importance of controlling your inner demons, which Jungkook sadly had to endure, since he was the only person around and, therefore, his roommate's sole target.
Taehyung was high out of his mind, but it seemed as if he would be the last to get that memo: in his twisted conception, he was spilling the hottest of truths (and not the incoherent ramble that it really was). Fighting through Jungkook’s complaints and eye rolls, he simply went on and on about how the page “Alpha Billionaire 101” wasn’t really that off beat when they said that you do, in fact, have two wolves inside you — and the one you feed is the one that wins. Jungkook was basically disassociating by the point that Taehyung started drawing some graphs, looking fixedly at the two wolves on the screen of his computer (one written “success and drive” and the other one representing “failure and procrastination”) and wishing that the gods above would strike him down once and for all.
And why is that important? Well, because eventually Taehyung fell asleep and moved on with his life, only casually mentioning the other stuff he saw on that page, but his words stuck around, glued to the back of Jungkook’s head. Not because they held any sort of meaning, but because the wolf metaphor was just too stupid to forget. And that eventually caught up to Jungkook in the strangest, most unexpected of ways: with you and bondage being involved.
Now, Jungkook had two wolves inside of him: one was extremely laid back and barely cared about most things that happened, as long as he was having a good time. The second wolf was a bitter, prideful, egocentric, mean little thing that simply wouldn’t fold no matter how much the world wanted it to. And it was that second wolf that took him to that position: because Jungkook told you that he was positive, certain, a hundred percent sure that he’d never be like you and beg for something during sex.
Which made both of your wolves absolutely pissed.
“What the fuck…” he mumbled, looking up at your agile hands moving like wasps around his wrists. The room was dark, barely illuminated by the moonlight that came from the window, but that wasn’t really the reason why his pupils were so blown-out. “Where did you learn to tie knots like this?”
You smiled, giving a last pull on the ropes to make sure they would stay still. Jungkook had been elated when you finally told him that you’d be willing to try it out bondage. One thing he didn’t expect, though, was that he would be the one getting tied up. “I was in the Girl Scouts,” you told him, sitting back against his thighs.
Jungkook scoffed, tugging at the ropes. They weren’t too tight, yet they burned his skin a bit — not an unwelcome feeling, but his mind wasn’t too focused on it. He had to live up to his own words. “Of course you were in the fucking Girl Scouts.” He rolled his eyes. “So, how long is this gonna take?”
His gaze followed as your hands unclasped your bra. Jungkook, who had already been stripped down to his boxers, could barely disguise the twitching of his eyebrows when your breasts finally came into view. The bra collapsed somewhere on the floor. “Depends on how long it takes for you to say it,” you reminded him.
Jungkook shifted around, gaze following the rise and fall of your chest. His hands struggled against the ropes, aching to touch your breasts, and you could notice the frustration blossoming at the back of his throat when he spoke up. “I’m not gonna say it.”
With a pout, you leaned back in, placing your hands on his broad chest for leverage. “Then it’s probably going to take a long time.” You blinked up at him, and there was a devilish glint in your eyes that he didn’t remember seeing before. He was doomed. “Comfortable?”
“Not at all,” he complained.
The smile you gifted him made his knees weak for a second. “Perfect.” Your hands traveled to the back of his neck, fingers playing with his hair and eyes zeroing in on his mouth. “Now, be good and kiss me like you mean it, okay?”
Jungkook didn’t get any time to digest your words before your mouth was pressing against his, enveloping him in your warmth — and suddenly he didn’t want to think about anything else. How could he? When you had your hands caressing his neck, with a soft sigh against his lips, there was nothing else in the world that could rob his attention.
In the end, past his brooding, unshakable persona, Jungkook was still a weak man when it came to you, he really was. It had become a natural, well-rehearsed reaction of his to explore your mouth with his tongue at every chance that he got; your lips slapping together as he groaned against you. The skin of his wrists was tingling, pressing hard against the ropes that held his hands back from exploring your body; from pulling you closer like he wanted to. Instead, he was at your mercy, following your own pace as you leaned your head to the side, fingers tugging on his hair as you sighed happily into the kiss.
It was exactly the way he liked: sensual, slow, messy; made his head spin when you rolled your clothed center on his erection before sucking on his tongue. Jungkook was sure that you were doing all that on purpose, riling him up as much as possible before finally touching him where he needed so much, and that was definitely going to be a problem.
In the back of his head, Jungkook was currently trying to decide if he hated Taehyung or not: the fact that his roommate had compulsively chosen to attend a party three hours away was the reason that you were there, kissing him like he was the air that you breathed, but also the reason why Jungkook had gotten tied up in the first place. If he had had a bit more time between texting you that he would never beg in sex (a very dumb, very unthought action), and the moment that you actually tried to make it happen, perhaps he would be able to convince you to step down from it. Perhaps he would realize that his prideful side was also really, really fucking stupid when it came to predicting his own limits.
Truth was: Jungkook was pretty much panicking when you moaned against his lips, because his cock was unbearably hard inside his underwear and he just knew that he would fold after some time. Especially when you were acting like that, like a demon trying to seduce him into selling his soul; a siren about to drag him to the abyssal depths of the ocean. He could barely follow what was happening.
Because of his dominating tendencies, Jungkook had never seen you showing your typical neurotic, controlling self during your sexual adventures — which was something he endlessly teased you for, but never thought it would actually have any sort of backlash. It seemed that both of you liked the usual dynamic (of Jungkook taking over) well enough and, yet, as he watched that sadistic expression monopolizing your features, he realized that maybe it was for the best. Maybe you had been training your whole life to perfect the masterful art of having things happening the way you wanted it, and maybe giving you the lead was one of the worst decisions he had made in some time.
As you pulled away, Jungkook chased after your mouth, managing to place another small kiss on your lips before the ropes held him back. “More,” he groaned.
The curve of your mouth was a wicked little thing, almost making him lose his composure for a second. “No, no more,” you were firm in your words. “Be patient.”
He huffed. “You only got an attitude because my hands are tied up.”
“I always have an attitude,” you were fast to correct, getting out of his lap. The lack of your warmth was instantly felt, made his chest heave in frustration as you sat down next to him. There was an embarrassingly large wet spot on his underwear that he was hoping you wouldn’t notice. “But, yeah, maybe I’m a little braver because of it.” Before he could muster up a response, one of your hands traveled between his thighs, faintly tracing its way up his skin. “And what are you going to do about it?”
Jungkook clenched his jaw — it was embarrassing how sensitive he was, goosebumps spreading through his legs. “Don’t tease."
“Or what?” A squeeze of his bulge was everything you need to make him shut up, his hips buckling up to meet your palm. Jungkook was hard and leaking, pulsating as you gave him a few, half-assed pumps through his underwear. A few seconds were more than enough to let him have his fun, it seemed, because you were soon removing your hand from his erection. “Now, stay still unless you want me to tie your feet too.”
He hissed at the lack of contact, but refused to complain about it out loud. You smiled at his reaction: Jungkook was so stubborn when it came to things like that, would never show you his weak, needy side so easily. But you were patient and, from what you had been told, you had all night to get your way.
Call it revenge, call it whatever: there was nothing that you wanted more than to see Jungkook bite back his own words and beg for you. It was an ego thing, perhaps, the mission to leave him just as overwhelmed and desperate as he had made you so many times in the past. Maybe you were a bit mean about it. But it was well deserved.
You took your time pulling one of his legs towards you, watching as his cock throbbed when you placed your body between his thighs. Jungkook could only think about how soft your mouth felt as you kissed up his thigh before, at last, you were nuzzling your face against his erection, placing kisses on his clothed member as your thumb pressed down on his sensitive tip. His breath grew irregular at the feeling, his tongue poking out to wet his lips as you looked up at him with that demonic smirk of yours, those big doe eyes that wiped his thoughts clean. Jungkook was absolutely fucked.
Luckily, he didn’t have to urge you further because, soon enough, you were pulling his underwear down, making it join your bra on his bedroom floor. Jungkook could’ve cried when you rolled your thumb over his crown, spreading his precum all over him, a delighted hum dripping past your throat. “You’re leaking,” you commented, eyes following the glistening of his reddened tip. He could only muster a raggedy, short sigh before you were talking again. “I can clean you up, don’t worry.”
Jungkook moaned out when you wrapped your lips around his cock, not hesitating much before you sank down on him. His head fell back when you started sucking, your cheeks hollowing out and tongue pressed flat against him. “God, your mouth feels so fucking perfect.” His hips thrusted up, but you had enough of a reflex to pull away before he managed to hit the back of your throat. “Take it deeper, baby, do it for me.”
But you did the opposite, removing him from your mouth. You glanced up at him with a disinterested look plastered all over your face, lips glossy with a beautiful mixture of your saliva and his wetness. Jungkook made a mental note to never forget that sight. “I don’t know if you understand what’s going on here, Jungkook.” You wrapped one hand around his cock, pumping it twice. It felt good, but nothing compared to your mouth. “But it’s really not your place to tell me what to do right now. That’s not how it works.”
“Yeah?” He chuckled, eyebrows raised in a silent dare. “And what are you going to do about it?”
Poor decisions: Jungkook’s week was filled with poor decisions. Blame that unshakable arrogant side of his, blame his terribly constructed defense mechanisms; blame whatever it was that didn’t allow him to think clearly when you were so beautifully placed between his legs, but it seemed that he really thought it would be a good call to provoke you when you were already 1) deadset on making him embarrass himself 2) probably the best Girl Scout to ever tie a knot in history.
Jungkook was completely helpless: he knew that, you knew that. So the reason why he mocked you in such a position would forever be another mystery that science could never answer.
And the payback arrived soon enough. Jungkook only earned a few seconds of relaxation, staring at your impassive face, before your mouth was sinking back down around his member.
If Jungkook thought that you were teasing him before, now you were sucking him like you wanted him to cum in two seconds — hands pumping his length, playing with his balls, tip hitting your throat, tongue dragging against his slit: the four horsemen of your apocalyptic blowjob technique that got him seeing stars in no time. “Fuck, that’s my girl,” he moaned. He was sure his wrists would be all red in the following morning from the way he was mindlessly moving his arms around, his mind just so hyper-focused on the need to touch you, to pull your hair when you were wrapping around his cock so well. “Feels so fucking perfect.”
Then, as he was just about to tip over, you pulled away.
“No, what the fuck,” Jungkook’s eyes snapped open, still unfocused and glazed-over. His body flinched at the interruption of his pleasure, and his cock throbbing against his pelvis, angry for attention. “Fuck, why did you stop?”
“That’s what I’m going to do about it.” You smiled, and Jungkook noticed that he was really playing a very dangerous game. In a span of two seconds, he asked himself if he was that mean to you, realized that he probably was, and came to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t change anything about it. “Are you going to behave now, Jungkook?”
He groaned, fighting against the frustrated waves that overtook his body. His orgasm, before so close, had now been washed away, leaving him with a pulsating feeling inside his guts. “You’re pissing me off.”
“Likewise.” You tilted your head to the side, placing one hand on his thigh. “Now, stay still and do what I tell you to do. That’s the last time I’m asking.”
He frowned. “Or what?”
You blinked, pausing for a second. “Isn’t it obvious? Or I’m leaving you like this.”
Jungkook’s brain finally seemed to comprehend the fact that, sometimes, it’s better to keep your mouth shut. So, instead of saying something, he simply watched as you removed your underwear before sitting between his legs, your thighs over his.
Because you absolutely hated him, you had opened your legs wide, pussy on full display, as you used one hand to lean back against the mattress. His eyes almost jumped out of their sockets when you used two fingers to spread your folds apart. “Look,” you said, your breathy voice making something inside his chest switch. “I’m so wet.”
And wet you were. Jungkook exhaled, nostrils flaring. His mouth salivated at the thought of licking you clean, fingers growing white around the ropes. He never hated an object so hard in his life. “I can… I can see that.”
You giggled at the grogginess of his tone, dove into the satisfaction that came from his focused eyes on your soaked folds. A gentle suspire left you as your digits slipped up, covering your clit with your arousal before pressing down on it. You were acting up a bit, whining loudly at the feeling because you knew that it drove him crazy to hear you make sounds for him. “Jungkook…” you trailed off. You had to bite back a laugh when his stare snapped up at you, looking so overwhelmingly horny and pissed off at the same time — the duality of men. “Want to have you inside me.”
He exhaled heavily. “Do it,” he said and you allowed him to think that it was his order (and not your decision) that made you move.
Jungkook’s pupils were blown out in sheer desire, wanting to absorb every light that bounced off your soft skin when you lined yourself with his cock, covering his tip with your warm wetness, allowing it to rub between your folds. By the time that you sat down on him, he was dangerously close to cracking.
“Oh fuck.” His hips thrusted up, wanting to feel more of your tight walls around him. It was heaven and hell, just the way he loved it, but his delight wouldn’t last long. “Fuck, baby, that feels so good.”
“It does,” you agreed, but there was a teasing inflection in your tone that he did not miss. Soon, your fingers were back where they were before, circling your clit. “And I happen to know how to make it even better. For myself, at least.”
It took him a few moments to understand what was going on, but, once it clicked inside his head, he could’ve cried from frustration. “What are you doing?”
“Getting myself off.” You smiled — oh you were such a fucking demon, he thought, a trickster spirit that wouldn’t rest until he was begging you to let him cum. Worst part? He might as well do it. “You don’t mind, do you? I know you love to keep your cock inside me like this.”
They say that revenge is sweet and, as you saw the flash of desperation that crossed Jungkook’s face, you couldn’t agree more. “Aren’t… aren’t you going to move?” He tried.
You could tell that he was holding back from just thrusting up inside you, which was equally satisfying and arousing: maybe, just maybe, he was starting to learn one thing or two about following your orders. “Hmmm… not at all.” You smirked, a tiny gasp leaving your lips as you circled your sensitive spot just the right way. Jungkook followed the movement of your lips as if they were writing the secrets of the universe. “Not if you keep that attitude up.”
He frowned, the corners of his mouth twitching in frustration. From your peripheral vision, you could see his wrists vaguely struggling against your knots — humbly speaking, you were a great Girl Scout, the typical overachiever, and you were positive that they would hold up.
“You’re going to regret this later,” Jungkook warned, but his words didn’t even have the chance to affect you. One clenching of your walls around him was all that it took for his head to roll back, a deep grunt dripping from his mouth at the sensation. It was just enough to keep him dangling over the edge, but not even close to making him cum. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, baby. Feels so fucking good.”
“I’m almost there, that’s why.” Your other hand slithered up your waist, cupping one of your breasts. Being a bit more theatrical than necessary (because you wanted to provoke him as much as you could), you gasped out his name as you rolled one nipple between your fingers, arching your back at the sensation. You swore you saw Jungkook’s eye twitch. “Gonna cum just like this. And you’re gonna be good and watch me.”
Again with that be good bullshit, again not giving him enough time to process it before you were timidly rolling your hips. “Baby,” he gasped. “This isn’t fair.”
“It isn’t,” you agreed, slightly breathless, your hand moving to play with your other breast. Jungkook followed the action like every part of you was magnetic, calling for his attention. “You do that to me all the time, though.”
He frowned. “But I let you fucking touch me.”
“How nice of you,” you sarcastically remarked. Another small roll of your hips made you gasp, fingers working faster around your clit. Teasing Jungkook got you shamefully turned on, it seemed, because you were just about to tip over the edge. “Fuck, feels so good.”
“It would feel so much better if you just— God, you’re so fucking wet,” his mind was barely functioning at that point, the heavenly feeling of your walls clenching around him was making him go insane. “Just ride my cock, baby.”
“No,” that simple word was like an arrow, shooting all his hopes down. Jungkook closed his eyes and threw his head back, trying to fight against the claustrophobic nature of his position. There was no way he could hold himself back, he thought, he would beg you as many times as he needed it that was what it took for him to finally cum. “I’m close, Kook.”
That whimpery, needy tone of yours would be the death of him one of those days. “I can fucking feel it,” he cursed. Jungkook just wanted to thrust inside your dripping pussy, make you cream his cock like you were made for it, but he knew that you would just stop everything again if he did so, and he seriously didn’t think he could take that. “S-Shit, baby, you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
But you had a good idea of how you were affecting him. Through parted lids, you watched as his face contorted in pleasure when you squeezed particularly tightly around him; a muffled sob perishing on his throat when you vaguely raised your hips. Jungkook was filling you up so perfectly, like he always did, and it was that amazing stretch of his cock inside you, combined with the clear hunger that covered his features, that pulled your climax towards you.
The orgasm that washed over you was abrupt, overbearing, just blinding enough so you didn’t notice the weak little moans that Jungkook let out at the throbbing of your walls around his aching length. You tried to prolong it for as long as possible, rubbing yourself, crying out his name for theatrical reasons, but eventually sensitivity got the best of you and you stopped.
What you found when you did, however, was a glorious sight. Jungkook was a perfect picture of lust and desperation, his chest rising and falling rapidly and eyes locked on where your two bodies joined. There was a thin coat of sweat all over his skin, the small sound of the ropes pulling on the headboard. When he noticed you were staring, he found your gaze. “I- I stood still,” he said.
“I know, you did so good.” You placed one hand on his cheek, leveling your face with his so you could kiss him. Jungkook melted under your touch, a deep sigh leaving his mouth as you pulled away, his cock still deep inside you. “I’m proud of you.”
As if something had magically changed, Jungkook tried to fight against his immobilized hands, only to find out that he was still unable to free himself. “Wanna touch you so bad, baby. You look so fucking hot sitting on my cock like this.” Jungkook was spoiled, you realized, because it didn’t take him two seconds of good behavior to revert back to what he wanted to happen. It was a terrible habit, you realized, one that you probably helped enable. “Fuck, just let me cum, baby. Take these off and I’ll fuck you just the way you like it.”
And maybe if you weren’t so high up in your power rush, you would’ve at least considered his offer. However, having Jungkook turned into a pliant mess beneath you was worth more than anything else at that moment. “I’ll think about it if you say the magic word.”
He frowned, his charm melting away. Jungkook was so adamant on having it his way that it bordered on a joke. “Not gonna do it.”
You kissed him once again before speaking up. “Then we don’t have a deal.” You shook your head, moving away from him. Jungkook searched after your mouth, but your stupid Girl Scouts knots didn’t allow him to go much further. He collapsed back against the headboard with a frustrated groan. “You’re a terrible sub.”
“Maybe because I’m not a fucking sub— Shit.” All his thoughts were wiped clean when you slowly raised your hips, only leaving his engorged tip inside, before, finally, sitting back down. The drag of your velvety walls against his sensitive cock was driving Jungkook up the wall, his tied-up wrists mindlessly knocking against each other. “Fuck. I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” You pouted, repeating the movement. You watched as his jaw clenched, a sharp exhale leaving his nostrils as Jungkook both fought against and searched for his pleasure. “Sure you don’t wanna say it?”
A deliciously slow roll of your hips got him gasping out. “I’m not gonna — fuck — not gonna say it.”
You leaned your head to the side, stopping your movements. Jungkook’s abdomen was caving in with every small brush of your pussy around him, the illumination from the streets making the drops of sweat on his skin look like small diamonds. It was an erotic sight, from the falling of his dark hair over his hooded eyes, to the beautiful inked drawings on his arms. Unfortunately, you had other things to do other than to admire him endlessly.
With a sigh, you got up from his lap. “Too bad.”
“Baby,” Jungkook whined — actually whined — when he felt his cock slip out of your perfect heat, collapsing against his abdomen. The sensation got him flinching, made him bite his lip for a second in an attempt to compose himself. “Baby, don’t leave me like this, come on.”
You frowned, faking annoyance. “How can I not leave you like this, Jungkook?” Your palms slithered around his shoulders, pulling your body closer to his. “You’re being horrible right now.”
“S-Sorry.” His breath caught in his throat when your mouth met the skin of his neck, tongue prodding out to lick a small trail up his skin. Your heat was unbearable, suffocating him and drowning out his thoughts to the point that he had really apologized for his poor demeanor. If your predictions were correct, it wouldn’t take long before he folded the way you wanted him to. “Just, come on, you can’t just— I’m just so hard right now.”
You giggled, fingertips moving down on his chest until you found what you were looking for. “Aw. Poor thing,” you teased, feeling as he grew stiff when you started to play with his nipples. A few weeks back, you had made the wonderful and unexpected discovery that Jungkook was really sensitive there, but you never really had a chance to explore that side of him before he flipped you over and had you his way. But the universe always searched for balance, and that moment was the karmic payback you were looking for. “What’s the problem, Kook?”
“Wanna cum.” He winced away from your faint caresses, but he really didn’t have anywhere else to go. A smirk curled up on your lips as you watched Jungkook fight against the knots, a frail, airy moan leaving his chest as you rolled his nipples between your fingers. He sounded so perfect: so needy and desperate that you could feel another gush of arousal accumulating between your folds. “Just wanna cum so bad, baby.”
“I’m not gonna be mean and hold it off,” you told him, moving back so you could place a kiss against his pouty, swollen lips. Jungkook looked so beautifully messy, so on edge, that you almost cried out at the sight of it. “You just have to say it,” you told him, lowering your hips until you were straddling his cock.
With a roll of your pussy against him, his cock brushed between your wet folds, tearing a broken sob from his throat. “Fuck,” Jungkook cursed. He was never in a position like that: edged for so long that he couldn’t even control the grunts that left his throat. “You’re so fucking evil.”
“You love it.” Another grind of your pussy had him throwing his head back, a loud moan ripping itself from his heaving chest. Jungkook was sensitive, responsive to the tiniest of your touches and, most of all: he was desperate, seconds away from cracking. “You know, if you say it, I’ll let you cum.”
His cock throbbed against you when you finally stopped your movements, raising your hips so your center moved away from his. Jungkook complained at the lack of sensation, practically on the limit of throwing a tantrum, and his pelvis mindlessly buckling up in search of your warmth. Instead, he found nothing, and his member simply collapsed back against his abdomen, aching for its release.
“This— This is torture,” he groaned. You giggled at his distress, taking one hand to brush away the sweaty hair from his forehead. Jungkook leaned into your touch. “Please, baby, just fuck me.”
Your ears perked up at that, a pool of arousal starting to grow between your legs. That sounded even better than you had predicted. “Sorry, what was that?” You teased.
Jungkook closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. “Don’t make me say it again.”
Slowly, you lowered your hips again, pressing your pussy against his cock. Jungkook reacted instantly, taking in a sharp inhale. “Didn’t hear you,” you said.
“God, baby, just fuck me, please,” he finally broke down, his dazed-out gaze seemed to have some trouble focusing on your face. Desperation was plastered all over him, staring at you like a beautiful, shimmering trophy. “Please, just let me cum. Please.”
You hummed, leaning away so you could sit on his thighs, facing his erection. You were a woman of your word: you said you wouldn’t hold it back, and you wouldn’t. “Since you asked so nicely…” you trailed off, one hand wrapping around his base, pumping him a few times. Jungkook throbbed in your hands, his abdomen sinking as your thumb grazed his sensitive crown. “Where do you wanna cum?”
It looked like you had truly broken the poor boy down because, for the first time in his life, Jungkook didn’t have any idea on how to answer that question. “I- I don’t know,” he struggled to speak when your hand was still caressing his member: just enough for him to feel something, but too slow and light for him to actually cum. “Anywhere. Just wanna cum.”
You pouted, letting his cock go. It bounced on his pelvis, tore a painful cry from his throat as he felt his pleasure wash away once again. “I need an answer, Kook.”
And he said the first thing that came into his mind. “Your pussy, baby, please.”
A smile tugged on your lips — it seemed as if that word wasn’t so hard to say anymore. “Of course, you’ve been so good.” You moved around until you were sinking down on him, feeling that fantastic stretch all over again, and earning a shaky moan from his part. You only spoke up again after you were sure he couldn’t go any deeper. “Kook?” You called. His pleading eyes shot up at you. “Wanna fuck me?”
He breathed out, just a tremulous gush of air that he could barely get ahold of. “Y-Yes, yes, please.”
You hummed, wiggling your ass around just so you could watch his face contort in despair, crumbling under the delicious drag of your plump walls around his cock. Jungkook almost looked cute, you dared to think, even if you were sure he would fold you in half the second that he got those ropes off. It was like teasing a tiger in a zoo: people only felt brave enough to do it because there was a thick glass between them. “You better do it, then,” you told him.
After everything you had put him through, Jungkook seemed almost hesitant to do so. “C-Can I move?” He asked, just to be sure. Last thing he needed was to do something wrong and have you walking out on him. His cock was so hard, leaking inside you, and he didn’t believe that he could handle being left like that.
“Of course,” you told him, the tenderness of your voice so different from what you sounded like all night. Jungkook was still on the palm of your hand, but your victory when it came to making him beg had already been achieved. So you could relax and let him do the heavy lifting for once. Being active was exhausting sometimes. “Come on, Kook,” you egged him on, leaning forward so you could find support on his chest. You knew what was coming. “Fuck me.”
That seemed to be the last spark he needed to ignite his fire because, soon enough, he was placing both feet on the mattress and thrusting upwards, your body collapsing forward under the force of his movements. Jungkook barely gave you any time to breathe: he fucked you fast and deep, helped by the gravity of your weight above him; shallow breaths and noisy whines leaving his mouth in a beautiful cacophony of sounds. It wasn’t long before he was making you bounce on his cock, pretty moans melting upon your lips as you fought to keep your balance over him.
“B-Baby,” Jungkook stammered, an airy, high-pitched moan sounding from his parted mouth. His brain was utterly bewildered by the movement of your body above his own, the bouncing of your breasts and the wild fluttering of your eyelashes. And those moans, those gorgeous, ethereal little sounds that you reserved just for him. “S-So perfect. All mine.”
“All yours,” you said promptly, struggling to meet his gaze. No matter how much you tried, you could not follow the speed of his thrusts, so you simply kept your body in place as he used it as he pleased. “Is this what you wanted?”
He nodded, mouth falling open. His lips were pouty and swollen, slightly red from the way he had bitten them before. “Wanna cum,” he breathed out, “inside you.”
No pretty please, you realized. Perhaps it wasn’t your best call to ask him to fuck you, because it dawned on you that you had just handed Jungkook his esteemed control back on a silver platter. That started simply as a doubt in the corners of your mind, however, you were sure that you had lost that battle once his needy whimpers started to wash away, instead replaced by the guttural, rough groans that he usually presented to you.
Not that you truly cared about it: you had already proven your point.
His head leaned to the side, pressing against his elevated arm. Jungkook was hypnotized by the way that your bodies met, the way you held yourself up so he could fuck himself inside you. You were always so good for him. “Your pussy feels so fucking amazing, baby,” Jungkook moaned out, hips snapping up against yours. A hiss dripped from his mouth when he felt you clench around him, signaling that you were close once again. “Look so pretty. Made for my cock.”
“Y-Yes,” you stammered, head falling back. You could feel that familiar tingling at the bottom of your stomach, your orgasm ready to snap once more. Jungkook always fucked you so well, even when his hands were tied up, always left your brain scrambling after the most basic of words. “I’m c-close.”
Jungkook tried once more to pull at his restraints, but it simply wouldn’t bulge. The contrast between the red ropes and the dark ink decorating his skin was beautiful, the veins of his hands getting thicker as tugged again and again. Jungkook was beyond the realms of reason by that point, struggling like a caged animal because there was nothing else in the world that he wanted more than to touch; to suck your breasts and to fuck you the way he wanted to. “Gonna cum too, baby,” his voice was almost a roar, deep and frustrated. It shot straight up to your core, made you tip over the edge and come down spasming around his cock, your high washing over you. “That’s it, cream my cock,” he praised. In the background of your overwhelmed state, you could feel as his member throbbed inside you, ready to release. “Take everything for me, alright? Wanna fill you up.”
You barely had any time to nod before he was spilling himself inside you, a long, throaty moan dripping like sin from his lips. Jungkook tried to keep his movements up for a bit longer, delighting himself in the way you winced at the feeling, but even he had grown too tired to continue it. So, at last, he collapsed back against the mattress, sweaty hair falling over his eyes.
“Get up,” he commanded, breathless. “Let me see it.”
With shaky movements, you did as he requested, planting one hand on his thigh so you could raise your body. His cock slipped out at the motion, already softening, but his gaze was stuck on the gradual dripping of his cum between your pussy lips. As much as you were used to that specific request, it always made your legs weak when you looked at him during that part — no matter what happened before, Jungkook always had that maniac expression plastered all over his face, like the mere image of his cum slipping out of you was enough to send him into a frenzy all over again. And, most times, it was.
“Good girl,” his dark stare slowly navigated towards your eyes. His arms were surprisingly still, no longer battling against the ropes, and there was something ominous about that. “Push it back in.”
Because you didn’t want to anger him any further, you agreed. It was almost impressive how quickly Jungkook was able to take back his control: even with him being immobilized, you were still folding and following his wishes like it was your second nature. “Like this?” You asked, using two of your fingers to stuff his cum back inside.
“Yeah, just like that.” He breathed out, the final seconds of his exhale morphing into a low growl. “Now, ___,” he called, eyes still glued to your pussy. “Untie me.”
You almost wanted to go against that, given the way he was about to break you in half, but that wasn’t probably the brightest of ideas. A bit nervous, you moved off his lap and sat down next to him, hands flying to undo the knots. “Hang on,” you requested. From the corners of his vision, you could see Jungkook staring you down, his piercing eyes focused on your face, silently watching you through the curtain of his black hair. At last, you managed to undo the ropes, the thick material falling beside you as Jungkook lowered his arms and started to massage his wrists. “How are your hands? I hope it wasn’t—“
“Lay down.” He interrupted, dry. Your mouth fell shut — none of your usual sarcastic remarks finding their way past the lump in your throat.
The softness of the pillow was a welcomed sensation, but your body could not relax, not when Jungkook was still looking at the pink marks on his inked skin, thinking about what he was going to do to you. You waited for what seemed like hours until he finally moved around, arms on either side of your head and chest pressed flush against yours. Jungkook’s heat was asphyxiating, his nose bumping against yours as he placed a small, tender kiss on your lips. He was being too calm, you noticed that instantly; still waters with sharks swimming underneath.
“Silly girl,” he mumbled against your mouth, fingers pressing on either side of your jaw. Jungkook pulled your mouth open, thumb caressing your lower lip as he stared down at you like an arrogant monarch. You felt terribly small, shrinking under his presence. “It’s not my hands that you should be worrying about.” He smirked, and his thumb paused its tender motions on your lip. He sighed. “Now that you had your fun, I’m gonna have mine.”
Jungkook was right: his wrists were red the next day. He naively thought that no one would be able to see it through his tattoos, but Taehyung, even in his hungover stupor, had his detective eye ready and noticed the marks right away. There was absolutely no way all his crime documentaries made him such an expert, Jungkook thought, but couldn’t really be sure of it.
“You know… things like this only make me more curious,” Taehyung said after Jungkook had refused to tell him who had come over the previous night. He was munching on his sandwich like his life depended on it, brows furrowed into a perfect picture of concentration. There was jelly all over his mouth, pulling up the corners of his lips and making Taehyung look like a terrible, discount copy of the joker. “Like, a chick tied you up? Come on, I have to meet someone like that. It’s a matter of, like, survival, some alpha wolf bullshit—“
“Fuck off,” Jungkook cut him short, burying his face on his hands. He was too tired to deal with any of that. “I never want to hear about you or your wolves ever again.”
check out the rest of the bad influence collection!
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The MHA Boys When You Get Sick
Ft. Bakugou, Kirishima, Midoriya, Shigaraki, Dabi
Warnings: Swearing, sickness ig, fluff
Note: I wrote this in about 10 minutes because I got bored and needed something to distract me from the fact that it’s almost Monday
In terms of physical care, he really knows his shit.
Makes sure you're fed, hydrated, tucked in bed and comfortable before you really even get a chance to think.
This man is an expert at keeping his body in perfect physical condition and so he knows exactly what to do when something goes wrong.
He struggles a little bit with providing for your emotional needs however.
He doesn't want to get himself sick.
If he had the choice, he's probably only come near you with a ten foot pole.
So when you're curled up in bed, nose running and asking for cuddles, he's gonna hesitate for a hot second.
He can't resist you forever though.
Although he only cuddles you under the guise of "You're so annoying when you don't shut up."
But no kissing though >:(
He's probably wear a mask while he was snuggling with you
You know it's nothing against you though so you don't mind
The absolute sweetest sweetheart to ever exist
"Oh no, baby, you're not feeling good? I'm so sorry, honey."
Brings you anything you could ever need.
If you're missing school, he will want to take the day off too, to look after you.
Growing up, he learned that the best medicine for sickness is sleep.
So that's what he encourages.
He doesn't mind getting sick from you, so he'll let you rest your head on his lap while he strokes your hair.
He'll talk quietly or read something or hum - anything that will help you drift off.
Even once you do fall asleep, he won't leave your side for long.
He makes sure there's water and headache meds at your bedside, and plenty of tissues.
If you have a fever, he'll keep a cool cloth on your forehead and change it the second it starts to warm up.
And once he inevitably gets sick, the roles will be reversed and you'll stay by his side and take care of him the way he did for you.
He has ALL the supplies.
All you need to do is text him "I'm sick" and he'll be at your door, bag of medicine, food and books in hand.
He has a whole order of business to go by.
Check your temperature.
Make sure you're drinking.
Do you need to visit a doctor? If so, he'll take you.
It'll also get to the point where you need to force him to stop rushing around.
You ask him to come sit with you and he does.
He'll hold you and just cuddle you, trying his best to keep you comfortable.
He doesn't want to smother you but knowing you're not feeling good puts him on edge.
He hates it.
When you fall asleep against him, he'll get his notebook and draw you.
You hate it because you're sure you don't look your best while you're sick but he doesn't care
You just look so peaceful, even with your skin burning with fever and bags beneath your eyes.
He's another one who won't mind getting sick.
As long as he's able to keep you happy while you’re sick, he's perfectly prepared to deal with the consequences.
He'll simply stay with you.
He has no clue how to take care of someone.
Have you seen that man, he can barely take care of himself
He doesn't like touching people at the best of times (people who likes, at least)
And knowing you're already weak makes him even more hesitant.
His compromise is to sit by you while you rest.
He'll play on his switch or brood or whatever he feels like doing.
And he'll let you lean on him or cuddle against him if you want to.
While he's not the most cuddly person, when you are sick, he allows you to show your affection.
He wont reciprocate though.
He leaves the nursing to Kurogiri.
However he will hover in the doorway of your room as you're tended to.
Then he'll sneak in and sit cross legged at the end of you bed once you've fallen asleep.
Creepy as it sounds, he'll watch as you doze.
It just interests him to see you so vulnerable when usually you're so strong.
It's makes him feel soft inside.
But he'd never ever tell anyone.
Take your meds and go to sleep.
He does not give a fuck.
But in all honesty, he's not the type to coddle.
Once he hears you're sick, he'll briefly stick his head in at your door.
"You look like shit."
He's not going to show you directly that he cares.
But he will check in with Kurogiri (who once again is the one tending to you) to ask how you're doing.
And he may or may not sneak in while you sleep to leave something at your bedside.
Not ever anything fancy.
But something that you'll know is from him.
Like a single cherry blossom.
Hizashi and Aizawa kidnapping a young teenage girl, and her bonding and quickly finding comfort with Hizashi, leaving Aizawa to awkwardly attempt at being super soft and all the more gentle to his sensitive little girl, his heart panging ￼with pain every time she flinches or cowers away from him. “You don’t need to be scared of me, kitten.. please”
your little acts of favoritism weren’t necessarily intentional, you hated both of them. they were your brothers teachers, and whoop dee doo, they kidnapped you. but... you liked hizashi more.
it was just something about him that made you believe he was some form of comfort item, probably because he wasnt brooding, and didnt have a mean face, and he was the first human yud ever seen in this place, that all combined into one and he became your rock, your shoulder to cry on. he was just... so nice, although his quirk was loud, somehow he managed to speak softly with you. it was such a bright contrast to at home where two firey blondes always scream at each other, and your father tries to calm it down.
on your first night ever here, you had tried to jump out the window, and were captured by the thick scarves you once admired, hed lectured you, yelled at yiuu even, all you could see were those red eyes of his, and hear his voice. and he scared you, he scared you so much. i guess it justtranslates to now, first impressions are everything, and to you, he looked like a big scary man who would yell at you.
eventually, you stopped caring about how you hated him, or how you wanted to leave, as you clearly never were. so, instead of glaring at them, or crying, you accepted the fact that he was taking care of you. hizashi, hizashi was taking care of you... aizawa though? no way in hell, he was just so... you'd never seen him with a smile, he never tried to talk to you, he just kinda watched you, and it freaked you out, at some point you started believing he was trying to kill you, don't even ask how you came up with that conclusion.
you just couldn't manage to warm up to hi as you'd done so quickly with hizashi, and it showed. you were always tense when alone with him, like he was going to jump out at you any second and stab you, you didnt talk to him , sometimes you felt so anxious around him that you would outright start crying, shaking in some form of fear, or hide yourself under a blanket. although hizashi was proud that you loved him so much, he knew that this was hurting his husband, that his own little girl was scared of him.
so he would always try to coax you into doing things with him, saying things like "can your papa come and help" or "how about we have papa do this with you while I make lunch?", just trying to get him included so you would feel just as comfortable around him as you were with his own self. Sometimes he just left the room to let you have alone time with him. He’d even lectured his husband about how he always looked angry, and that he has to smile form time to time, and not the creepy “I’m gonna kill a villain” smile.
And so Aizawa started trying, not trying to be like hizashi, even that was too much for him, but trying to be nicer, he was a gentle person when he wanted to be, so this came with ease for him, he would tuck you in at night, read you stories, hold you if you cried, feed you, help you bathe (which you usually liked hizashi to do, and in general, inserted himself as a gentle roger in your life. You would expect taht this would work, that because he was so nice to you, because he was so sweet like hizashi, you would accept him as your father.
But nope! Again, first impressions are everything to you, and now, he was written off as the villain of you story, now, you jsut ran off to papa whenever he was around, and didn’t even give him the chance to hang around you, it just made it worse honestly, because now, not only did he look scary, but he also looked fake, which is never good. Every time he would try to if you, you would clutch onto hizashi for dear life, acting like his hand would do nothing but burn you.
Tears would cloud your vision, and he would pulle back, not wanting to cause you any more pain, and jsut stare in. Pure jealousy at his husband, who cooed and gave you a hug.and guess what? You hugged him back, and hid yourself in his chest, willingly, without a fight, without a tear, instead with a smile, most of the times mic wouldn’t interfere, wbatigg ns this to everyone a safe space for you, a place where you should naturally do things, but sometimes, he would give you little bushes int he right direction. Like disappearing completely for my he house so you’ll be forced to talk to Aizawa.
This is one of those times.
Yo been wandering the house for about ten minutes now, waking up form a nap, to find mic absent from his usual place in the rocking chair at your bedside. It was a little after lunchtime, and they’d only given you a small cup of fruit for breakfast (intentional, from mic), you were fairly hungry, and usually he was there to give you food, but you had no idea where he was, you had heard the… other one on the phone in their shared office, but you did not want to talk to him right now.
Aizawa could tell you were awake by the fact that all of the cats were meowing like crazy, and little pattering footsteps had followed his hearing around, mic had left abruptly, probably some little plan of mischief again, he was hizashi after all. He was just waiting for you to either 1: go back to bed, or 2: come to him for help. Mic had specifically told him to follow these rules for after nap time, so he did. And grew progressively more worried as over twenty minutes, trying to read through his students grading work, too distracted by the urge to go find you to accomplish anything.
His worries dissipated though when he saw your little head poking through the door, cat in hand, confused and tired looking, small tears beginning to prick th corners of your eyes, little sniffling sounds left you. His wha specked up form the desk, you’d given up walking around the whole house, your restarting had slowly pent up, you couldn’t manage to find him, and you were so hungry.
“Oh- hey honey, I didn’t know you were up. Do you need something?” He questioned, smiling intently at you, you just inched back into the door frame, breathing heavier by the moment, your hands shook and your head felt like it was going to explode at any point. Youbcontenoajted runnign back to your room and waiting till mic came out where you could hear him, but your stomach grumbled, reminding you how hungry you really are.
“I’m- im looking for daddy. Where is he.” You spoke, a very hushed tone overtook your words, making them almost inaudible for him. His face sunk slowly, he tougher you were actually gonna come for him, but the he remembered taht patience is key, and that he shouldn’t get mad, because it is t your fault taht you’re just a little sensitive, too fragile to handle more than one attachment, he gets it. He jsut at least wanted you to look at him, instead did your little feet, I’m Ayer if you could meet his eyes the. You would see how much he loves you.
“Oh, he left a. Little while ago. Is there something you need from him? Your papa can give him a call if you want, you could even talk to him!” He exclaimed excitedly, plastering that happy smile across his face to seem more inviting, liek mic had told him to do. He stood out of his chair, rounding up the papers and putting them in his file folders.you tried to sink back furthers, almost disappearing behind the doorway, you shook your head aggressively, almost running off, then yet again, your stomach made another noise, and forced you to stay.
“I- no. I’m- im hungry-“ you spluttered, not caring if it was embarrassing that you were stuttering so much, you just wanted food. And calling mic would just get you a lecture on how you could’ve just asked your papa, the same thing would happen whenever you went to uncnecesary lengths to avoid the man, your daddy would make sure you knew that it made him feel bad, while you’d at there bored. Not caring, at all.
“Oh- well you should’ve told me sooner kitten, if I’d known I would be up already. Cmon, let’s go to the kitchen, your daddy made you some food earlier” he spoke, rising from his chair slowly, you cowered slightly as he walked over, clutching the little kitten right to you for comfort, he mewed and snuggled closer, completely asleep. The man sighed when he saw you backing away from his grasp, he knew you were still scared. But he was just so impatient… he was tired of waiting, he wanted to hold you, even if it was jsut foena few minutes. He needed it feel you there with him.
Is he acted quickly, moving in a matter of seconds, he swooped his arm under your leg, and hooked his other around your torso, pulling you straight up into his grasp. Youu huh froze, his hands felt cold as ice on your skin, like they were burning you, immediately after he started walking, it snapped you out of it and you threw a fit. You dig your fingernails into his skin, and kicked and flailed in a panic, still trying to keep the little kitten in your lap safe. A full blown panic washed over you, clogging all your senses.
The dam holding back tears form your eyes crashed, and immediately you were sobbing, biting at his shoulder to let you go, he tried to rub your back to calm you down a bit, but just made it worse, as his hands felt like living anxiety creeping up and down your spine. He didn’t know what to do, let you ride it out, andkk no possibly have you get sick because of how much your crying in an empty stomach? Or let you down and go straight back to square one.
Your veined felt like pure ice had flooded in them, and it felt liek someone was repeatedly jabbing you in the head with tiny needes, fear was jsut so prominent in your sense, it overcame you, and made you whimper and scream.
“Whoah, breath for me alright? I just want to hold you. I’m not going to hurt you okay? I would never hurt you. Kitten… you don’t have to be scared of me” he spoke, trying to keep a proper computers, he wanted to cry with you, he wasn’t a very soft or emotional man but honestly, he was so upset with himself already, this was jsut pushing him for the edge. You cried, and cried, at some point you weren’t even crying and screaming at him, more with him. He held you close, you’d stopped the struggle almost five minutes ago, letting him hold you. It was odd. It almost felt… nice.
“I-I’m sorry. I’m being stupid again” You alien through your remaining little hiccups, shove my your face into his shirt, smelling the woody scent he carried around with him. He cooed, letting you hide yourself from him, savouring this soft moment was of top priorirty in his head… you jsut looked so sweet, so different from those harsh cries that would sound usually whenever he came around.
Who would think, shouts aizawas hand couldn’t feel nice? The same ones that had just been burning you, the ones that made you scream, felt like a breeze on a spring day, he actually felt warm, he felt like happiness, like contentment.
“No hon, it’s not stupid. Your scared. I know that, we all get scared and it’s not a bad thing, I love you, I really, really love you kitten. Just know that” he continued on with his little speech, leaving down to kiss you in the forehead, Jsut to be suprised when you didn’t flinfh, you were too tired to be scared; and too hungry, plus, he was really warm, the cat had pretty much snuggled up to him already, who says you shouldn’t.
“I- um- I love you… to?” You spoke, more of a question than anything, you’d spent so long Harding him that you didn’t know if you even could love him, it didn’t even feel possible, then again, you litterally cling to hizashi like a koala, and your mental state has relaly said “swoopity swoop” and scattered itself everywhere. Maybe having two comfort items was actually better than one… huh.
“Well, let’s go eat then. All taht crying probably made you tired, I’ll let you watch a movie in my office, you can watch pinto again, I know you love taht one. Cmon, let’s go” he spoke, and started walking again, you cuddled closer to him as he did, smiling slightly at the warmth. Hizashi was very extravagant, exiting, and hyper, this man felt very cool, calm, it was such a dark contrast, but it worked so well. You jsut… you Jsut liked it.
Well… now we’ll just have to wait and see who’s the favorite
Thank you for requesting! It was super fun to write and had me feeling super happy when I finished :)
I’m thinking about doing yandere todoroki family asks, because I’m litterally in love with @i-cant-sing one… so, requests are open for those if you want to put them in (please do I’m begging)
Anywho, have the most wonderful to days today! Goodbye!
Double Agent: Part Four | Bucky Barnes x Reader
Hi, friends! Part four is here!
Part One. Part Two. Part Three.
Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @glxwingrxse @psychoticmason @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned 💘
Fic specific tags: @cjand10 @leyannrae @blessedwedgie @vampire7595 @onlyjamesbuchananbarnes @elasticnightmare 💜
Warning: PTSD, anxiety
Rhodey, Steve, and Sam sat in the kitchen, watching you and Bucky eat breakfast on the patio. The morning sun reflected beautifully off of Bucky’s shiny metal arm, casting you in a golden glow. “Didn’t see that coming…” Rhodey joked, “I thought he would’ve killed her by now”. Steve rolled his eyes and shot Rhodey a disapproving look, prompting him to argue, “I’m not saying he’s a bad guy-but he did try to murder her on her first day. That’s a fact”. Sam thought back on your first day at the compound and the way Steve and Rhodey had had to physically restrain Bucky to keep you safe. All the hate and rage Bucky held for you had melted away after spending the past month with you and hearing your story- just like Steve had hoped.
“It’s weird seeing him so…smiley,” Sam joked, “I didn’t know his face could do that”. Steve didn’t listen to Rhodey or Sam; he was happy to see his best friend in such a good mood all the time. His dark and brooding demeanor was cracking, revealing the warm, lighthearted version of Bucky that Steve hadn’t seen in years. The two of you did almost everything together: movies, long walks, reading time- and every night, Bucky let you sleep in his bed. The companionship had proven to be mutually beneficial. Neither of you had to feel alone when there was someone right beside you who had a shared experience. “Let him be happy”, Steve murmured as he rose from his seat, “he deserves it”.
A guttural moan shook your chest as you flopped down onto your bed. You never spent much time in your room, but you didn’t have the energy to make it down the hall to Bucky’s. The ceiling fan almost hypnotized you as you stared upward, replaying the events of your day like a broken record. A metallic banging caught your attention and signaled that Bucky was at your door. A flat “come in” was all you could muster, and Bucky knew immediately that you’d had a rough day.
“So…how’d it go?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer. A thumbs down was your only response. He took a seat on your bed and laid down next to you, staring at the ceiling with you. “She’s the worst”, you finally muttered, “she’s so- that’s not therapy”. Bucky chuckled at your very accurate complaints about Dr. Raynor and waited for you to continue. “Last time I saw her, she said it was good that you and I are hanging out. But when I saw her today, she said we were codependent…you’re the only person I have- of course I’m gonna be a little dependent,” you grumbled.
It was embarrassing being called codependent. You’d always been so strong and self-assured, but Hydra had taken that from you. The person sitting next to Bucky was not the person you’d previously been. You’d become a shell of yourself- a lost, anxious mess just trying to survive.
“I’d tell her to fuck off, but I don’t wanna get arrested…again”, Bucky groaned. He put a smile on your face for the first time all day, helping chip away at some of your frustration. The sessions with Dr. Raynor felt more hurtful than helpful, almost like she tore you down each week without helping build you back up. Bucky felt the same- she’d actually told him once that he needed to get a life, and he’d almost ripped her office door off its hinges. “Come on, let’s go do something- get your mind off our common enemy”, Bucky suggested as he sat up, “What sounds good?”
Nothing sounded good. All you were interested in doing was staring at the ceiling fan until it fell from its brackets and crushed you- but you couldn’t tell Bucky that. He’d worry about you if he thought you were slipping- hell, he worried about you when you took too long in the shower.
Bucky never thought he’d care about you at all, let alone care this much. Something in him was desperate to protect you, to show you the care he’d needed but hadn’t received after his Hydra days. He couldn’t be mad at you for what you’d done to him. In a way, that was the Winter Soldier version of you- forced to do things without any control or say in the matter. And if he didn’t want people to equate him with his Winter Soldier years, then he couldn’t reduce you to yours. He saw so much of himself- of his struggle- in you. The two of you were fun-house mirrors of each other, and when Bucky finally realized that, his hatred for you dissipated.
“Can we just read?” you eventually muttered, “I don’t really feel like doing much else…” Bucky agreed to your request but would’ve continued staring at the ceiling with you if you’d asked him to. Somehow, you’d wiggled your way into the tiny cracks in his heart like a flower pushing through the sidewalk, and he liked it. He helped you from the bed and the two of you walked silently to the library, plopping down in leather armchairs when you finally arrived. Bucky’s copy of Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy sat right where he’d left it, and you scanned the shelves for something new.
“Uhhh…are you sure that’s a good idea?” Bucky asked with trepidation, “Steve said that one’s pretty fucked up”. He motioned to the copy of House of Leaves that rested on your thighs and you threw him a shrug. “Well, it’s not like it can give me worse nightmares than I already have,” your words dripped with a dark cynicism that would’ve stained the floor like ink. The two of you dove into your books, sharing passages aloud every now and then. After a few hours, Wanda and Sam called everyone down for dinner and you joined the rest of the team.
After a shitty “therapy” session, lots of reading, and a lively dinner with the entire crew, you and Bucky retired to his bedroom. Climbing under the covers with Bucky had become your favorite part of the day. It was quiet and warm and safe in Bucky’s bed. Some mornings, the two of you woke up all tangled together- your head on his chest or his body protectively curving around yours. It was never awkward or uncomfortable- just two people with shared trauma finding solace and warmth in the arms of another.
The comfortable quiet was shattered around 3:15am, when Bucky’s eyes shot open. He hoped it was a nightmare, but the sound persisted even after he regained consciousness. In a voice he was all too familiar with, he heard the words echo through the room:
Bucky scrambled from the bed and crashed to the floor with a solid thud. He desperately backpedaled away from you, only stopping when his shoulders made contact with the wall.
The commotion roused you from your sleep, and you flicked on your bedside lamp. Your eyes landed on Bucky. He sat on the floor, pressed up against the wall with his knees tucked into his chest. His vibranium hand clutched the nearby door frame with such intensity that you could hear the wood groaning and splintering under his grasp.
“Buck- Bucky, hey. Hey, what’s wrong?” your voice desperately asked as you made your way toward him. A deep anguish twisted his features into a horrified, disgusted scowl. This was new to you. You’d seen him dealing with the aftermath of a night terror, but never had he acted like this. You slowed your pace as you crept closer to him, extending a hand in his direction like he was a scared animal. “Buck, it’s me. It’s just me” you murmured, but that only made things worse. His head fell into his hands as he barked at you:
“I know! I know it’s you. Get out.”
No part of what he said made sense. There was still a possibility that he was sleep walking, trapped in a night terror without knowing it. When his eyes met yours, though, it was clear that he was fully awake. “Buck, I don’t-” you whispered, but he cut you off. He jerked away from your hand, not letting you make contact with his skin. “I told you to get out- get the fuck out and stay away from me” he ordered. You’d never feared Bucky, not even when you were up close and personal with him during his Winter Soldier days. But this was scary. This pure, unbridled rage rivaled the anger he’d displayed when he first saw you in the briefing room all those weeks ago.
This sudden pivot in Bucky’s attitude toward you could’ve given you whiplash. You felt yourself crumbling and if you didn’t leave right then, you would’ve fallen to pieces before him. “I’m not- I…I’m sorry” the words fell from your lips in a broken, empty voice that didn’t sound like yours. Hurriedly, you fled from his bedroom and slammed the door behind you. The second the door latched, sobs wracked your body. Your ribcage rattled violently as you tried to force shaky breaths into your lungs. The floor was cold under your knees, making you realize you’d sunk down to the floor. It was pathetic, sobbing on the floor outside the bedroom door of the man who’d just kicked you out, but you couldn’t stop yourself..
Nothing made sense. Bucky had become your closest friend, security blanket, and trusted confidante over the last month, and now he hated you. Again. The two of you worked so hard to build trust and companionship, but Bucky set fire to it and watched it burn- and you had no idea why. Quiet footsteps caught your attention and you glanced up, finding Steve standing only a few feet away in his pajamas. He’d heard you crying all the way from his room and come to see what the racket was about. He rushed to your side and asked over and over what was wrong, but you couldn’t speak. After a while, he helped you to your feet and walked you slowly down the hall to your bedroom.
Steve left your side for only a moment to grab you a glass of water. He made you down the whole thing and worked with you to regulate your breathing so he could understand what was going on. “Alright, take your time”, he said gently, “just tell me what happened”. But you couldn’t tell him what happened- you didn’t know. You didn’t have a clue what you’d done- or hadn’t done- to make Bucky so upset with you.
“Everything was fine, we were- we were asleep. I woke up and found him on the floor. He looked…he looked angry. Scared. Disgusted”, it took a few shaky breaths for you to steady your voice, “and when I asked him if he was okay, he…uh, he told me to get out. He told me to stay away from him”. Steve stared at you in disbelief. He hadn’t seen Bucky this happy since their childhood days in Brooklyn, and he couldn’t fathom a reason why Bucky would turn on you.
Steve held you as you continued to dampen his shirt with your tears, but rage seethed in his chest. Bucky knew what you’d gone through. He had experienced first-hand just how hard it was to learn to trust again- and he’d sent you stumbling back to square one. Steve refilled your water and sat with you as you drifted off into a restless sleep. Around 5:30, he rose from your bed and padded down the hall, determined to get to the bottom of this.
“Buck, open up. I know you’re in there”, Steve called as he knocked on Bucky’s door. He didn’t wait for permission, however, and entered Bucky’s room to find him sitting on the floor. Bucky couldn’t bring himself to move from that spot. He’d sat there and listened to you cry, listened to Steve try and fail to console you. He was frozen. “Hey, what’s the deal?” Steve asked as he noticed Bucky’s vacant expression. Bucky just shook his head.
“I need you to tell me what happened. She is not okay,” Steve told him. Bucky didn’t know if he could bring himself to apologize. Your voice had haunted his dreams for years after his escape, and waking in the middle of the night to hear you saying those words left him shaken. Every ounce of disdain he’d had for you came rushing back the moment you tried to reach out and comfort him. How could he have been so soft? How could he let you, his tormentor, into his heart? Into his bed? He didn’t know how, but you’d broken down his walls, and he hated it. He hated that the one person he felt closest to had hurt him so deeply.
“She woke me up…” Bucky muttered, “she woke me up because she was saying the words- my words”. Steve hadn’t expected that. He took a seat on Bucky’s bet and ran a hand through his hair with an exasperated sigh. “I don’t want her around me anymore- I can’t. I know she did what she had to do, but…do you know how many times I heard her say those words? Every time she spouted them off, it meant pain, agony, fear…I can’t have her in my life.” Steve tried to reason with him, but Bucky cut him off.
“I heard her voice saying those words and- and it put me right back in that chair. I was in the vault, screaming, having my mind wiped again…” Bucky fell quiet. A look of torment clouded his eyes as he imagined you repeating the words over and over. The thought of you brought the smallest smile to his lips- something he hadn’t expected. He thought of your laugh, your hair messy from sleep, your love for onion bagels…he adored you. He cared so deeply for you that it hurt.
Steve watched the internal struggle play out across Bucky’s features. “I know how you feel about her…” he said gently, “we both know you can’t just cut her out of your life.” Bucky nodded. His feelings for you were complicated, to say the least. He wanted to have you by his side every minute of every day and make you laugh, make you smile, make you feel safe. He couldn’t imagine what his life would be like without you- and he didn’t want to. But how could he hold so much affection for someone who’d put him through hell? He’d built the walls around his heart high and strong, but you’d toppled them with ease. He struggled with the fact that you’d had an active part in his abuse. He couldn’t forget what it had been like, seeing you consorting with Pierce and Rumlowe. But you’d played your role. And when you’d refused to hurt Bucky any more, you’d suffered the consequences.
“Alright, I don’t…I don’t really know what to say, Buck,” Steve sighed, “so I’ll just leave you with this: I had to pick her up off the floor. She sobbed for two hours- only stopped because she was too exhausted to keep going. Cried herself to sleep. I know how good you are for each other, and I know she put you through some horrible things…but none of them are her fault. You know that. And you could’ve easily been the one to fuck up tonight- hell, you could’ve choked her out in your sleep, and you know she wouldn’t hold you accountable if you had. She’d understand. You’re both traumatized, and it’s gonna manifest in ugly ways. I’m not telling you what to do, just…think about it.”
Steve stood and exited the room, leaving Bucky alone with his thoughts. Steve’s words pushed Bucky down a rabbit hole of remorse. The sound of your sobs echoing through the halls had driven dagger after dagger into his heart, leaving him in physical pain. He hated hurting you, but he hated not being there for you even more. Yes, he’d been freaked out by what happened, but you were asleep. You were dreaming- probably having a nightmare. He owned up to the fact that he couldn’t hold you accountable, and finally began to rise from his spot on the floor.
He quickly padded down the hall and into your room, finding you asleep. You looked so small, tucked into a tight ball all alone in your bed. He ached to be next to you. He wanted to wake you up, to apologize for everything he’d said, but he couldn’t. He remembered Steve saying that you’d cried yourself to sleep; you were so exhausted by what Bucky had put you through that you physically couldn’t stay awake any longer. As Bucky got closer, he saw the glint of a tear rolling down your cheek. The sight was enough to make him breakdown, but he held strong, and climbed into bed next to you instead.
Still asleep, you wriggled your way against Bucky’s body out of habit. He wrapped his arms around you and held you tight to his chest, relishing in the feeling of your body against his. Moments later, your eyes flew open. “Hey…” Bucky murmured. Seeing him next to you was jarring; you weren’t sure the earlier events of the night had even happened until you realized your head was pounding. Pulling yourself away from Bucky’s embrace, you stared at him in disbelief.
“What…what’s going on? Didn’t you kick me out a few hours ago?” you asked, your voice weak. Bucky nodded sheepishly with his eyes cast downward. He knew he was going to have to explain and figured he should just spill his guts to you instead of beating around the bush. “You said the words-the Winter Soldier words, I mean. You said them in your sleep, and it freaked me out. It put me right back where I was all those years ago…” he confessed, “I didn’t know what to do. It was scary, hearing those words come out of your mouth again- but I know you were asleep- I know it was an accident. I’m so sorry for what I said…”
More tears flooded your cheeks as you buried your face in your hands. “Bucky, I’m so- I’m so sorry,” you choked between sobs. You couldn’t believe you’d actually said the words, and no longer blamed Bucky for treating you so harshly. He shushed you and pulled you into his arms, holding you against his body as you bawled. He told you not to be sorry and apologized himself over and over and over until you finally spoke. “I don’t blame you for- for not wanting me around…” you muttered.
He wiped a few tears that had collected on your chin and wiped them on his shirt. “Hey, I didn’t mean it- really. I didn’t. It was a knee jerk reaction”, he took your face in his hands, not letting you break eye contact, “I want you around all the time. And I’m not going anywhere, I promise. Okay?” After a moment, you nodded and let your head dip down to rest against Bucky’s chest. “Go back to sleep…” he whispered, but you shook your head.
“I don’t think I can. I don’t- I probably shouldn’t sleep in the same bed with you anymore…I don’t want this to happen again”, your words made more tears spill over your lash line, leaving wet spots on Bucky’s shirt. He tilted your chin upward, angling you to look at him. “You’ve been doing so well- we both have- with the whole nightmare thing. I’m not gonna let you give that up just because there’s a small possibility that you’ll say the words”. Any attempt at a protest was foiled by Bucky, and you just didn’t have the energy to argue anymore.
“Come on, we both need to get some sleep. It’s gonna be okay…” Bucky whispered, and you finally nodded. He held you as you drifted back to sleep, feeling grateful that your super soldier still wanted you around.
My Boss Hates Me | Toto Wolff
A/N: hey guys! here’s my second toto ficcc! I honestly don’t know if this one’s any good so I apologise if it’s shit 🥲 I'm still trynna figure out of I can write a part two to the medic bc I lowkey have no clue what to write for it. But for now, enjoy this one!!! As always, let me know if you like it !! Your feedback means the world to me. Ok bye! Love u
Summary: As a new employee at the Mercedes AMG F1 Team, you quickly realise your boss isn’t too found of you. In fact, you two quickly learn to hate each other. But things change as you replace his personal assistant for the weekend.
Word count: super long I apologise like literally 4K words …
Warnings: ummm angry, mean Toto… swearing, dom Toto?!?? Light choking.. spanking … literal Smut... I’m bad at these ... OK ENJOY
You and Toto had never got along. You had only joined the Mercedes AMG F1 team four mere months ago, quickly becoming one of the most popular employees at the facility. Everyone seemed to love you. Everyone except for one person. One tall, sexy, brooding, Austrian man, who also just happened to be your boss.
You were the ideal employee, always showing up bright and early for work, motivating everyone to have a kick-ass day. You were chirpy, kind, motivated, and overall a great asset to the team. Not to mention, you were young and pretty, resulting in a few not-so-secret admirers. But, for some reason, Toto didn’t seem to pay attention to any of your great qualities, often frowning down at you through his black-framed glasses, a distasteful look on his face.
As you applied for the team you were well aware that Toto was a stern boss and held high expectations for his employees, but nothing could have prepared you for the eternal resentment he seemed to have for you. What had you possibly done to warrant such a reaction from this man? Did he have a secret vendetta against you? Had you accidentally crashed into one of his expensive luxury cars at the grocery store years ago? Knowing your driving skills, or lack thereof, it was an entirely plausible theory. Or maybe he wasn't happy that you were distracting more than half his male employees who would often stop in their tracks every time you'd walk by, quickly adjusting their hair and brushing down their wrinkled shirts. But how was that your fault?
To make matters worse, you had admired the man for years, even crushing on him slightly when you had first met him. I mean, could you blame yourself? He looked like a Greek God. But, of course, those feelings were quickly pushed deep down after your first few weeks at work. It's hard to crush on a man who hates you.
A few weeks later, nothing had changed. After deliberating with a few of your close friends you came to the conclusion that maybe you two had got off on the wrong foot. Nothing a little ass-kissing couldn't fix. Finally, after a few tense weeks at your new job, you decided it was time to set your plan in motion. Every day you greeted Toto with a cheery "good morning", made small-talk with him in the team break-room, and even bought him the occasional coffee, taking the time to ask his personal assistant what he liked.
After a few weeks of sucking up, you were delighted at the progress you thought you had made with him, smiling to yourself as you walked eagerly to his office with two warm coffees in hand. But before you could even think to knock on his door, his large frame blocked your access. He looked cute today, you thought to yourself. His hair was slightly ruffled due to the harsh wind outside, and the tight jacket he wore highlighted his bicep muscles effortlessly.
"Good morning Toto! This one's for you" you beamed up at him, holding out his cup in front of you. He took a moment to stare down at you, looking between your eyes and the extended cup you held in your hands. He took the coffee from your hand, before coldly responding, “I seriously doubt you know my coffee order, so maybe stop wasting your money.”
He walked away briskly, dumping the coffee into a nearby garbage bin, leaving you standing there stunned and absolutely fuming.
What an asshole.
4 months into your new job, absolutely nothing had changed. You had officially given up. At team meetings, Toto would completely ignore your presentations, often opting to walk out of the room to take a phone call, or even failing to show up completely. But, for someone who seemed to hate you so much, his behaviour was strange. Whenever he thought you weren’t looking, you’d feel him staring at you. You’d look up and he’d quickly avert your gaze, pretending to busy himself with work, running his fingers through his dark hair, or readjusting his thick glasses. This had happened on a few occasions now, which had left you a bit stunned. But, before you’d get ahead of yourself, you’d remember all the harsh words and unimpressed looks he had shot you. He’s probably imagining using my head as a piñata, you thought to yourself. He hated you that much. Which made you hate him. It’s only natural.
Another month passed before things completely changed. Toto’s personal assistant had gotten COVID, sending the whole team into a frenzy, resulting in mass COVID testing and isolation for a few team members. Luckily, everyone else on the team was fine, including Lewis and Valterri, who were relieved to know they were safe to race for the upcoming weekend. However, there was just one issue. Toto's personal assistant was self-isolating, and the team was now understaffed, thereby leaving you as the only replacement option.
Your eyes widened as your department leader informed you of your new status for the upcoming weekend.
“Well I can’t be Toto's assistant", you stammered unconvincingly, "I mean I’ve never done anything like this before, plus I usually don’t even travel to the Grand Prix’s-" you urged, frantically trying to find any excuse to avoid spending even a second with that man, let alone three whole days.
Your team leader sighed, obviously stressed about the whole situation, “Look, we don’t have a choice Y/N, I know you and Toto don't get along that well but we’re just going to have to deal with it for this weekend, OK?”
Damn... was it really that obvious to everyone at the office that you two couldn't stand each other? You weren’t entirely in the mood to lose your job, so you nodded slightly, accepting your fate. You were just going to have to suck it up and deal with it. "It’s only one weekend" you repeated to yourself, trying to stay calm. Only three days, I got this.
~ Day 1 ~
You were well aware that it would be a difficult transition going from spending no time with Toto to being his personal fucking assistant for three days. However, you were ready to do your job well, regardless of the shitty situation. But of course, when it came to you, this man had no sense of professionalism. All throughout practice he completely ignored you, refusing your help in any way. He would ignore every text, responding with a "busy". More often than not, he would simply leave you on read. He'd go to meetings and interviews alone, leaving you stranded with nothing to do and nowhere to be. What the hell am I doing here? you thought to yourself. If it was any solace, there were only 2 days left until things would finally go back to normal.
~ Day 2 - Post Qualifying ~
You lay in your hotel bed, exhausted from the long day. As usual, qualifying had gone smoothly with Lewis and Valterri performing amazingly, securing a front-row lockout for the team. You’d think that would put Toto in a better mood, but no, it failed to change his attitude towards you. You had asked him if he wanted to grab lunch after qualifying, seeing that both of you hadn't eaten all day. But of course, all you received in response was a gruff, "You think I have time to dine?"
Dine. Who even talks like that. How pretentious. To add to your anger, you were still fuming from the events of the afternoon.
Turning over into your pillow, you restrained a frustrated groan as you tried to forget the events occurring post-qualifying where Toto had completely humiliated you in front of Lando, who you happened to have a little bit of a crush on. You two had hit it off at a mutual friend's party and DM'd quite a bit on Instagram since then. However, because you didn't attend Grand Prix's, you didn't see him as often as you would have liked.
You were chatting with Lewis before he headed for his post-qualifying interview when Lando came up to congratulate the 7x world champion. You blushed slightly as you saw him approaching, taking a moment to appreciate his flushed face and the way his cute curls stuck to his forehead. Obviously entertained by your awe for the young Englishman, Lewis decided to conveniently "take a piss", giving you and Lando some time to talk privately for a moment. But before Lando could even extend his arm out to hug you, Toto emerged out of nowhere, hands placed smugly in his pockets as he made himself comfortable between the two of you.
"You wouldn’t be flirting with my assistant now, would you Mr. Norris?" he commented, obviously unpleased, towering over the Brit. Does he really have to make everything so awkward?
"Of course not Sir" Lando stammered back, practically having to break his neck to see the tall Austrian man in front of him.
"Good. Because she should be working" he replied, before quickly adding, "plus, she's not interested" What the fuck did he just say?
"As for you", he turned swiftly to face you, quickly scanning you up and down. "Go back to the hotel and change immediately, whatever you're wearing is not appropriate".
Before you had time to respond, he had turned on his heel and walked off, whistling to himself as he made his way through the paddock. You scoffed, turning red with absolute rage and embarrassment. Before you could even apologise for your boss's appalling behaviour, Lando was ushered to his post-qualifying interview. He shot you a sorry smile before turning away, obviously feeling bad for you after the awkward encounter. Not only was Toto making your job a living hell, but now, he was intruding on your personal life too? Seriously?
Only one day left. Thank God.
Your thoughts about the afternoon were disrupted when you heard a sudden knock at your door. You groaned, rolling over to take a quick glance at the digital clock on your side table. Who the hell was knocking on your door this late at night? Honestly, it was impossible for this day to get any worse. You walked over sluggishly to the suite door, much too exhausted to even bother checking the keyhole before opening the door.
Your eyes widened in shock when you realised it was Toto, standing with his arm leaning against the top of your door. His eyes widened as he looked down at you, your sheer pyjamas hiding hardly anything.
Yep. This was officially the worst day ever.
“Do you always open the door half-naked Miss Y/L/N?”
You rushed inside your bathroom to grab anything to cover yourself up. But of course, the only thing you could find was your pink victoria's secret silk robe. You quickly tied it tightly before unwillingly making your way back towards the door, your face burning from embarrassment. What the hell did he want?
“My assistant and I usually go through my schedule before race day…” he stated, catching onto your confusion as to why he had magically appeared in front of your door at 11 pm.
“But I can see you're busy” he continued, scanning your body again, eyes lingering over your exposed legs. Of course, this robe ended mid-thigh. Super professional.
So now he wanted to do work? After actively ignoring me for the past two days. What a joke. Of course you couldn't voice any of your annoyance to your boss, so you faked a smile.
“I’ll go get your schedule. Would you like to come in?” you asked, opening the door wider so that Toto could step in.
You immediately regretted your decision as you led Toto into your suite. You scolded yourself as you quickly pushed the lingerie lying across the bed under your sheets. But, alas, it was too late to hide all the mess. You sighed, as Toto inspected the towels scattered on the floor, along with a Pepsi Max can lying sadly next to your trashcan after you had failed to make the shot from your bed.
“Are you usually this messy?” he remarked, a playful eyebrow raised at your bad habits. Was he really finding entertainment in your embarrassment?
“Usually I’m not, I’ve just been exhausted... I apologise” you stammered, convinced that he had already begun planning to fire you the second you got back to headquarters, if not earlier.
"I’m joking" he replied lightly, making himself comfortable on the large couch in your suite.
What the hell was happening? Why did he think now was the perfect time to work? And WHY was he suddenly joking with you?
"Y/n?", he questioned, with raised eyebrows, breaking you out of your confusion, "The schedule?"
"Of course," you stuttered, sitting down next to him.
Your breath hitched slightly. You had never actually been this close to him before. He smelt really good; warm, rich, sensual. You two were sat side by side, so close that the side of your unclothed knee was touching his slacks. Almost too close for comfort, it felt like you were holding your breath the entire time.
You started explaining his schedule for tomorrow, pointing out important information on the computer in front of you. At one point, he leaned back, casually throwing his arm around the couch, spreading his legs as he made himself comfortable, a pen balancing in his mouth as he continued listening to you. You couldn't deny that you were extremely turned on, your eyes struggling to avoid staring at his thick thighs which were defined nicely under his tight slacks.
Despite your own admiration, you couldn't help but feel him staring at you too. Instead of following your fingers as they pointed out the information on the screen, he'd be staring at the exposed skin peeking out of your silk robe. You were almost too afraid to move, the tension causing chills to run down your spine. Just as you were about to break the silence and ask if he wanted to get breakfast together before the race, he had gotten up and appeared ready to leave. I mean, you had officially finished going through work together, so what else was there left for you two to do? Nothing. Right?
As you stood by your suite door, ready to bid your boss goodbye for the night, you felt slightly disappointed. For some reason, you didn't want him to leave.
“Thank You Y/N, you’re officially the worst assistant I’ve ever had”, he remarked.
You stood in front of him, too stunned to process his words. "Again," he stated quickly, "I joke", he smiled down at you.
You blushed, still trying to adjust to his new light-hearted approach towards you. “Well thank you Toto,” you replied, overjoyed by his sudden kindness.
He smiled again, turning on his feet, ready to walk back to his suite when, without thinking, you blurted out, "It was really nice spending time with you tonight!"
You were so overwhelmed by his sudden change in mood that you blurted out the first thing that came to mind. The second those words escaped your mouth, you regretted it. You had hoped that maybe he didn't hear you and would just continue walking down the hallway.
But he definitely heard you.
Toto turned around slowly to face you again, hands placed firmly inside his pant pockets. "Stop flirting with me", he said nonchalantly, his face expressionless as his eyes looked your body up and down.
You stood there, mouth slightly open as you were taken back by the audacity of this man. You'd officially had enough.
You scoffed. "I’m not flirting with you. You’re the last person I’d ever flirt with, " you spat out angrily. You felt yourself going red again, arms crossed in front of your robe in an attempt to preserve any dignity you had left.
“Is that right?", he questioned, tilting his head before taking one long stride towards you. “Is that why you're always staring at me when you think I'm not looking? Hmm?" Shit. This whole time, not only was he staring at you, but you had been doing the exact same thing.
In an instant he had re-entered your suite and pushed you against the wall, his hands pinning you down so that you couldn't move, one knee lodged in between your thighs, pushing them apart. You gulped, feeling flushed by the intimacy of the moment.
“You want to know why I hate you so much Y/N? You really want to know?", his hands coming to cup your face. You nodded, positive that if you were to try to speak, no words would come out.
"Answer me when I ask you a question," he said sternly, one hand coming up to your throat, choking you slightly and forcing you to look up at him.
"Yes," you gasped out, "I want to know". As you uttered those words you realised just how dry your throat was from anticipation. He smirked, obviously entertained by the effect he had on you.
"I don’t hate you Y/N. I can’t stand to be in the same room as you. I can’t be walking around the office with a hard cock all day, can I Schatzi? But I bet you’d like that, hmm? Bet the idea alone makes you wet."
You stood there, jaw wide open, struggling to understand the weight of his confession. Toto, was turned on, by you? That's why he avoided you? You had a million other questions, but right now you could care less about any of them, you were too desperate to see where this was going.
"Is that why you opened the door for your boss practically naked, hmm? Maybe that's why you've been prancing around the paddock wearing your short dresses. Bet the idea of my cock turns you on. Is that right Schatzi?”, he continued, moving his hand away from your throat so that he could drag his thumb across your bottom lip.
You felt breathless, suddenly finding it hard to stand up straight, your knees wobbling slightly as you clung onto Toto's forearms, searching for any kind of support to keep you standing. He didn't seem to mind at all, but instead, chuckled at the reaction you were giving him. He hadn't even touched you yet and you were practically melting into him. That was the effect Toto had on you.
"Toto" you whined, unsure how much longer you could take his teasing, the arousal between your thighs growing slicker every second. You needed him.
"What do you want," he commanded, the knee lodged between your thighs sneaking upwards so that it made contact with your thinly clothed cunt. You whined again at the contact, your words limp in your mouth. "You get nothing unless you use your words Schatzi. I'll ask you again, what do you want?"
"I want you to fuck me for fucks sake," you splurted, unable to stand the sexual tension any longer.
"Good girl," he whispered, content with your answer. In an instant, his mouth crashed into yours, hands fumbling with the piece of fabric holding your robe together. Before you knew it, your clothes scattered the floor, your legs widening for Toto as he ran his fingers across your wet folds.
"So wet for me already pretty girl?" he bent down to whisper in your ear, slowing planting kisses across your bare shoulders, "I've hardly even touched you yet."
"I need you, Toto, fuck" you whimpered, your head leaning lazily against his shoulder. You were so dazed that you hadn't even realised that he was still fully dressed, his hard cock evident through his tight pants. You bit your lip as you stared down at it, growing even wetter at the thought of him thrusting mercilessly into you until your next door neighbours could hear.
"You want my cock?" he questioned, as he followed your gaze. You nodded shyly, biting your lip as you stood exposed in front of him. You tugged at his belt, urging him to hurry up. "So desperate for me to fill you up, huh?" he whispered, before he quickly unbuckled his pants and pulled down his boxers, his hard cock springing free.
You gasped as you saw how big he was, holding back a moan as you imagined him pounding into you. He laughed, amused by your reaction. "Go lie on the bed for me, Schatzi. Ass up", he ushered you towards the bed, palming himself as he watched you intently. You climbed up on the mattress, shaking your ass slightly as you got into position, ready for him to demolish you.
You turned around to see him, a devious smile on your face as you watched him position himself behind you, his dark eyes fixed on your body, muttering German obscenities under his breath. You gasped as he entered you roughly, offering you no warning.
"Fuck," he moaned under his breath, his large hand moving from your hips to plant a hard slap on your ass, the stinging sensation leaving you gasping for air. He continued to thrust into you mercilessly, leaving you a moaning mess beneath him.
"Such a good girl taking all of me like this," he pants, your eyes pricking with tears as you clutched the sheets beneath you. You rocked yourself backward, pushing yourself against his length, desperate for more.
"Fuck Y/N, such a dirty girl grinding onto your boss." Suddenly, he gripped your hair tightly, bringing you up so that your back was against his chest. You yelped at the suddenty of his movement, the new position causing his cock to hit that spot deep inside you.
"Mmm I'm gonna cum Toto, fuck, please", you groaned, unsure how much more you could take.
"You’re being such a good girl for me, wanna come all over my cock?” he moaned, bringing one hand to caress your breasts, while the other snaked down to circle your clit. "Yes," you whimpered, completely breathless, "I'm gonna cum, fuck Toto". With one final thrust, you felt yourself coming undone, crying out as you fell back onto Toto who filled you up with his seed.
You both took a moment to catch your breath, beads of sweat evident on your body. You turned to face Toto, unsure of what to do now. He pressed a kiss to your lips, pulling out of you. You watched as he headed to the bathroom, coming back with a towel to clean up the mess you two had made. After he had gotten dressed and finished cleaning you up, he leaned forward and gingerly pressed a kiss to your forehead. The sweetness of the gesture caused you to blush as you looked up at him through your lashes. "I'll see you tomorrow Schatzi", he whispered softly in your ear, before getting up and walking out of your room. Holy shit. Maybe being Toto's personal assistant wasn't that bad?
Benedict as a papa 🥺 He’s such a good bro to Eloise, I feel like he’d be awesome with kids.
You’re so right 🥺
Warnings: Parenthood, children, mentions of pregnancy and birth, f!reader
The house was quiet.
To most people, that would mean peace. It would mean the chance to relax with a nice cup of tea and a good book, or to sit a while in the garden, or perhaps even to take a nap.
To you, a mother of three, it meant trouble.
Your brood- and your husband- were nowhere to be seen, and you were worried. A seven-year-old daughter, a five-year-old son, and a three-year-old daughter were only quiet when they were up to mischief, a fact that you had learned the hard way. You and Benedict had been caught out by one-too-many buckets of water balanced precariously on doors, waiting to be toppled by whichever one of you was first to unsuspectingly enter the room, and you were determined that it would not happen to you that afternoon.
Climbing the stairs to the nursery, you relaxed slightly at the sound of children’s voices. At least they weren’t somewhere they weren’t supposed to be. Treading carefully on the floorboards so as not to alert them to your presence, you peeked through the doorway to see what they were doing.
Isabelle, your eldest daughter, was standing by the little table in the centre of the room. Her latest hobby was hosting tea parties and forcing absolutely anyone- from servants to her aunts and uncles to the family pets- to attend, and today was no exception. Her guests- or hostages, as they may have referred to themselves- on this occasion were her siblings and her father.
You bit your lip to stop yourself giggling at the sight of your husband. His knees were almost at his chin, folded into a tiny child’s chair as he was, and you knew that his back would be aching by nighttime. A six-foot man was simply not meant to sit at a child’s tea table.
Oh, but he was. It hadn’t taken long at all for you to realise that Benedict was made to be a father. When you told him that you were pregnant with Isabelle, he had fallen to his knees and wept tears of joy- the same tears that he had wept unashamedly upon holding her for the first time. You remembered as though it was yesterday, the way that the midwife and the doctor had frowned at the sight of a man of the ton so happily cradling his newborn child before the blood and vernix had even been washed from her head. It was one of your dearest memories, paired only with his identical reactions to the births of James and then Eliza.
Adoration filled your heart and threatened to make it burst as you watched Isabelle pouring “tea”- composed predominantly of air and not much else- into her father’s teacup. Benedict looked up at that moment, sensing your presence as he always seemed to, and smiled with his eyes at you as he obediently lifted his cup to his lips and pretended to sip.
“Izzie, darling, you may need to prepare another cup,” he told your eldest daughter, reaching out with his free hand to steady little Eliza in her chair without having to look, “Your Mama has joined us.”
James, your second child, turned in his chair with a gleeful expression to see you standing in the doorway.
“Hello, my loves,” you greeted them fondly, coming into the room, “I believe there was mention of a nice cup of tea?”
Benedict was beaming up at you. Isabelle, however, was less impressed.
“There aren’t enough seats!” she pointed out.
Your husband was quick with a solution…rather too quick, in your opinion.
“Mama and I shall simply have to share a chair,” he announced, grinning cheekily at you as you raised an eyebrow at the lack of space in the tiny chair he was occupying, “I should hate for anyone to miss out on tea.”
Knowing how seriously your eldest daughter took etiquette and decorum at tea parties, you had to roll your lips together to prevent yourself laughing as you carefully sat down across Benedict’s thighs. His free arm found its way around your waist to keep you secure in the tiny chair, and you reached out to ruffle Eliza’s curly hair affectionately to watch your youngest child squeal with laughter.
“This is very cosy,” Benedict whispered in your ear, and you could hear the smirk in his voice as his teeth grazed your earlobe.
Reaching for the teacup that Isabelle had “prepared” for you, you murmured back to him without looking:
“Three children are quite enough, Mr Bridgerton.”
His laughter almost toppled you both out of the chair.
sleepy state || wolfstar (ff)
⤷ summary: (ootp missing scene) remus isn't a morning person and it causes him to slip up and kiss sirius in front of everyone
⤷ a/n: follow @elis-writings and turn on notifs for when i post a fic !! <3
also i really didn't have time to write this properly, but as my fave doctor (11) said "you should always waste time when you don't have any"
⤷ word count: 1,329
⤷ cw: nothing much, little bit of angst (that isn't really angst)
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REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED !!
"Oh shit," Remus woke up with a start, sitting up whilst glancing over at the clock that hung on the opposite side of the wall, grateful thankful it was there rather than behind him: he didn't feel like craning your neck in the morning was an activity he'd particularly enjoy doing.
He already detested the mornings so much, the earliness and the fatigue of it all made him want to sleep in until noon, until there was something really worth being awake for.
It was half past seven in the morning, and he had to get to his job soon; it started at 9 and he figured that he'd need to get up and out fairly quickly as getting to work was already a chore in itself.
Whoever invented mornings must really have hated the world, Remus thought.
It wasn't a job to do with the Order, which was a start to Remus getting back to some form of normalcy - he'd only worked in the magical world a handful of times, both of which had been through the beginnings, middles and end of two disgustingly painful and heartbreaking wars that never seemed to leave him.
But the job was boring, it lacked the thrill that Remus had been searching for his whole life and made him wish that he could stay at home all day brooding.
With a yearning to stay wrapped up his blankets, he grudgingly dragged himself out of bed, trudging into the bathroom and sorting himself out as efficiently as possible before he sauntered downstairs, hopeful for some breakfast to wake him up (even though the splashes of cold water to his face did not even begin to phase himself out of his sleepy state).
His brain wasn't processing and functioning as it normally did, and he didn't seem to care as he found himself going downstairs slowly, one by one, step by step.
There was hardly any thoughts coherent enough to mull over except the fact that he really did not do mornings- he hated them as much as they hated him.
Remus was inches away from the kitchen, finding the railings to hang onto and guide his way into the room as he didn't feel stable enough to walk on his own, so sleep deprived from the night before that he ran a risk of falling flat on his back and passing out to wake up to a throbbing back pain the day after.
(He winced from the memory of a Hogwarts experience).
And as he entered, he saw everyone up bright and early, looking as though they too were bleary eyed and slow minded, with the exception of Sirius Black, who was sitting up straight with the perfect posture, his cup of coffee in his hand and the Daily Prophet in the other, and it reminded Remus of the domestics that they'd shared in the First War - it reminded him so soberly of how they'd wake up to find the other in the kitchen drinking something (be it coffee or tea) and reading the Daily Prophet.
"Good morning," he announced, clearing his throat and staring at Sirius, whose glance at the paper hadn't wavered, although his eyes didn't move and his breath had hitched.
The man couldn't help but ponder so deeply for the few seconds he remained standing about how Sirius would grab a cup of coffee, and Remus would take some tea, just to be different but matching all the same all those years ago.
Remus would have coffee and Sirius was spotted with a bit of tea on another day, both of them reading and reading, sipping and sipping, crying and crying, hugging and hugging as the newspaper was cast aside, abandoned as the husbands married in haste would mourn the losses they'd only be made aware of through a paper that had increased in thickness as more and more bad news came to surface and their lives were dark, ever so dark.
And all they'd have at the start of the morning and the end of the day was tea, coffee and firewhisky just to commemorate it all.
And then there was a swift motion happening in their present, so quick and over with that there was no telling whether it had actually happened: Remus strode over to Sirius and pulled him in, pecking him on the lips once or twice and letting go, not quite aware of what he was doing until he sat down a few seats away from him.
There were eyes on him, the children were gazing upon Remus with awestruck confusion and he was absently humming to himself, wondering about what the day was laying out ahead of him when he got the sudden feeling he was being watched and that unsettled him.
He looked up and his eyes flitted open with alarm at the many gawking pair of eyes who had yet to process what the hell had just happened.
Swivelling his head over to his right, he saw Sirius at the head of the table, looking the most puzzled of all, albeit the fact that Remus could detect a hint of joy and almost pleasure in his eyes, the first positive emotions that had shone through at the cause of someone other than Harry (and himself on a rare occasion they were not fighting).
And then his actions registered and it dawned upon him.
With babbling apologies and flustered explanations, he poured himself a cup of tea with shaking hands and red cheeks.
He rose up from the table as quickly as he had sat down and stumbled back out, trying to spare him the embarrassment before he could hear an uproar of their voices beckoning him back inside the room knowing that Sirius would never be able to give them a straight explanation.
"We're married!" Remus groaned, shouting from the second flight of stairs, "And we have been for the last 16 years!"
"MARRIED??" Fred spits out his orange juice across the table, where, thankfully, no one was sat.
He began to choke and received many thumps on the back from George, who was almost going mad with laughter and surprise, seeming to be the only one taking this news almost straight away, finding nothing more to understand than the fact that the two people with the biggest sexual and romantic tension were actually married.
It made so much sense now that he thought about it.
"It was supposed to be a secret," Sirius smirked slightly, it teased at the corner of his mouth, allowing the scene to unfurl in front of him, promising himself internally to not speak another word until it had cleared up,
Harry, as oblivious as ever, zoned out from the moment Remus had kissed his godfather, thinking about how it was so amazing how they'd remained friends and managed to forgive each other for everything, not hearing the commotion in occurrence and he sat back in his chair with a smile on his face.
His godfather observed his behaviours, recalling someone from the past with those behaviours and fighting the urge to smile sombrely at the memory of James Potter.
Thoughts whizzed through his head at a million miles an hour and he thought of nothing but Remus, James and Harry and how each person connoted to a different branch of thinking and took up separate parts of his brains.
Remus was upstairs as this went on, fiddling with his tie and replaying the whole scenario that had been going on from the moment he woke up, tutting every now and then and tittering at his slip-up.
They had sorted their relationship issues out, of course, that was one of the main objectives of Sirius' stay at his place, but they'd agreed to keep it secret, and they'd failed to do that.
Secrets slipped out in the morning, and that's probably why Remus hated them so much.
He had always been a tired and secretive person.
prompt idea from @impishtubist
golden trio era fluff taglist: @enbysiriusblack @royalty-of-fandoms @itsmentalillness @roonilwazlibweasley @queen-asteria04 @gothboutique @keepawaythenargles @ms-heartbreak-queen @shibble @ewlovesucks @eleventhboi @daydreaming-reader @couldibeanymorechaotic @peachybaes @mayamoons @book-dragon-not-worm @acciorxses @oliverwoodmarrymepls @dreamerthinker @angel4you @evesbiggestf4n @l0vely-lupin @crazy-beautiful @harrypotterlover234 @i-is-a-fangurl-weeb @shaysamilf @rosie-posie08 @rainmaybank @noceurwhore @heartbeats-wildly @siriusstwelveyears @wrongilbert @noturmom128 @wlfstxr @regulusblackswhorecrux @ildm4ev
tag 4 the one & only: @ameliasbitvh
dandelion root tea
SUMMARY. During a slow closing shift, a cute, red-headed customer walks in and catches your eye. He seems serious and brooding but you figure no one can be immune to your cheesy puns and amazing pick up lines.
PAIRING. diluc ragnvindr x barista!reader
WORD COUNT. 1.9k
GENRE. coffee shop au, modern au, fluff
A/N. loosely based on a prompt from @izupie’s coffee shop prompt list! :3 i hated working as a barista but,, coffee shop au’s hit different ok D: LOLOL i hope you enjoy this fluffy diluc fic! let us all appreciate high ponytail diluc ;> xx sof
It wasn’t every day you saw such an eye-catching gentleman at the doors of the coffee shop you worked at— In fact, such encounters were much too few for your personal liking.
You figured that if you had to spend hours of your week working at a part-time job that barely paid and that split direct tips from customers, you might as well have something nice to look at to keep you sane throughout your shifts. Especially when the said shifts were slow closing shifts in which you were lucky to have even a total of five customers to talk to all night.
Apparently, the gods of luck seemed to have been on your side that day since after almost half an hour of having no one enter the shop, your knight-in-shining armor dressed in a crisp, black outfit appeared.
Finally, a customer to cure you from boredom, no matter how temporary.
“Hi there, welcome!” you greeted with a smile as you saw him looking around the empty seating area with a nod of satisfaction. “Can I get anything started for you this evening?”
He walked to the counter after you called him over, loosely holding the strap of his shoulder bag with his thumb hooked underneath the padding. “Yes, certainly,” he said in affirmation, his voice firm yet soft, more gentle than you would have expected, and somehow even better than you had anticipated. It was like a warm hug of sorts. “Could I please have a dandelion root tea with room?”
Gods, even his order felt refined and cozy, you thought to yourself.
“Dandelion root tea,” you hummed as you found it on the cash register. “And will that be all for you tonight?”
“As of now, yes.”
“Then that will be $1.94 in total!” Teas were a lot cheaper than coffee here— Most likely because the preparation it took was little to none compared to the traditional latte options. The coffee shop sold tea… That didn’t mean it was good tea.
The customer swiped his phone over the device to pay for his drink, and you caught sight of the lockscreen that flashed briefly. It looked like a picture of lush and fruitful vineyards, if you saw correctly. Somehow...fitting.
As if he caught you looking, he raised his eyebrows in question, the slightest hint of amusement on his face. “It’s a picture from my family home.”
Your cheeks heated from getting your nosy self caught. “Sorry, it just— It looks very pretty. Did you take it yourself?”
“I did,” he said simply, smiling fondly to himself before straightening his expression as he looked at you. You half-anticipated for him to ask a reciprocal question in return, but when you met his gaze, you only saw him waiting expectantly.
“Oh! I’ll get your order started right away. Would you like your receipt?”
“No, thank you.”
You nodded, about to get his tea brewing before you stopped in place. You realized you haven’t learned the customer’s name, though there was no real reason to since no one else was in the shop. Still, you thought it’d be a real shame if you let someone as cute as him leave the cafe without so much as hearing his name.
“Er— Could I get a name for that order?” you asked sheepishly, flashing a grin as you held a marker to the outside of his cup.
His eyes scanned the interior of the cafe, a confused look on his face. Nonetheless, he complied with your request. “Yes, of course. It’s Diluc.”
You jotted it down as he spelled it out for you, adding a little smiley face at the end. “That’s a very pretty name.”
Diluc’s gaze flitted down to the nametag on your apron. “And yours as well.”
With a silly grin, you attempted to stop yourself from swooning on the spot. You didn’t care if it was an empty exchange of compliments. He was such a gentleman you just couldn’t help but melt.
“Thank you.” You placed the marker cap back on. “I’ll get started on your order now, Diluc. It should be ready in a few.”
He nodded to let you know he heard you. “Would I be able to use a table to do some work?”
“Of course! We don’t close for another hour and a half or so; feel free to stay as long as you like.”
Diluc chose a table not too far from the counter, and you found yourself slightly surprised he didn’t instantly gravitate towards a corner booth. You hummed to yourself as you made his drink. Maybe he wanted some form of company. After all, why would someone do their work at a coffee shop instead of a library if they didn’t seek the friendly atmosphere that came along with it?
You finished up his tea and decided to bring it over to him instead of calling his name from the counter. He was the only customer after all, it felt a little rude to yell out his name for no reason. (And perhaps you wanted an excuse to talk to him— Just to pass time of course.)
“I have a dandelion root tea with room for Diluc ready!” you said as you walked over with a spring in your step. “Dandelion root tea for a cu-tea if you will.”
A disgruntled noise of surprise came out of his mouth as his ears that were exposed when he pulled his hair into a high ponytail tinged a light pink. “I… Thank you, I appreciate it.”
Though his words seemed dismissive, the small smile on the corner of his lip indicated otherwise.
“My pleasure.” You toyed with a loose strand of fabric on your apron. “We have milk and sugar at the sidebar if you’d like to add any in— Let me go and rotate them out with a new batch for you.”
You went to the back kitchen to pull out some fresh milk and add-ins, the whole while thinking about how pretty Diluc looked in the high ponytail he had just put his hair in. By the time you got to the sidebar to replace the containers, he was there waiting with his drink in hand.
“Hope I didn’t keep you too long!” you fretted as you stood next to him, tidying up the countertop.
He waved his free hand. “Not at all. There’s no need for you to feel rushed. We’re the only ones here, after all.”
“Sorry, force of habit,” you said with a sheepish grin. “Don’t often have free time in a coffee shop, you know.”
“Right. Must be tiring work.”
“Sometimes, but it can be fun. Especially when I get to meet beau-tea-ful customers out of it.” You gave Diluc an over-exaggerated wink, hoping to get a laugh out of him.
No noise of surprise came out of him this time, maybe because he was mentally prepared to hear any terrible tea pick up line from you at any given moment now. But you did see a smile peeking through the tousled hair covering the side view of his face.
“I…” His words died out as a blush colored his cheeks. He averted his gaze by busying himself with adding milk into his cup. “Thank you for the compliment.”
“Mhm, of course.”
Diluc walked a few steps over to his table while you went the opposite way to the main counter. You looked outside the glass doors for any sign of another customer to keep you company, but it seemed no one would be dropping by any soon. You sighed, drumming your fingers lightly on the tabletop, matching the rhythm of Diluc’s muffled typing.
“How does the tea taste?” you asked hopefully when you saw him take his first sip. “I’ve never made dandelion root tea before, actually. No one has ever ordered it during a shift I worked previously, so I hope it’s not too bad!”
He took another drink of the tea, considering the flavor. “It’s…good.”
You chuckled. “As good as bagged coffee shop tea could be, hmm?”
Seeing your lighthearted attitude, he let himself laugh in agreement. “It’s not the worst I’ve had.”
“Not the worst! I’ll settle for that,” you said, lifting your chin up haughtily.
“What an award to strive for.” Diluc smiled into the cup as he took a sip. After a moment of silence, he opened his mouth to start the conversation first this time, “Do you have a favorite tea?”
Your eyes widened, not actually expecting him to initiate something. You figured you’d tell a few more bad jokes and then leave him to do his work as you suffered from boredom all alone.
“Actually,” you said, “I’m not much of a tea person. Or coffee even. I like smoothies.” You shrugged and Diluc let out a sound of amusement. “But… If I were, I’d have to say you’d definitely be my cup of tea.”
With a big wink, you sent finger guns his way, only mildly aware of how foolish you probably looked.
He shook his head, almost grinning despite himself. “Cute,” he said quietly, so soft that you had to strain your ears to hear it. Diluc cleared his throat. “Do you say this to every customer you have?”
“Only the cute ones I’d like to talk to more,” you admitted. “So far…just you.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
Your cheeks heated up as you tried to decipher what he meant. Did he like that he was the only customer you flirted with to this caliber? Or was he just saying the gentlemanly response? You decided to brush away those thoughts before you could start overthinking.
“So, what about you?”
He titled his head in question.
“Do you have a favorite tea?” you clarified, moving from behind the counter to a table near him.
“Dandelion root, actually.” He smiled fondly, pulling out a chair next to him to let you know it was okay to sit down. “It was something my father enjoyed making as a kid. I’ve learned to make it myself as I grew older.”
You were elated he shared such a nostalgic memory with you. “That sounds sweet,” you said softly, fingers curled over the bundled fabric of your apron. “I’ve never had dandelion root tea before. It smelled very…strong when I made it.”
He laughed, but not unkindly. “The root can be too bitter for some. Even I dilute it with milk at times. But I can also make dandelion tea with fresh petals. It’s sweeter and milder, and would perhaps be more to your liking.”
You nodded fervently. “Sweet and mild. I like the sound of that.”
“I’ll have to make you some one day.”
You blinked, wondering if your ears were playing tricks on you. That almost sounded like an invitation to see him again after tonight.
“Do you offer to make your special dandelion tea for any barista you meet?” you jested, tossing his question back at him.
“No. Only the cute ones I’d like to talk to more. So, only you,” Diluc said with a teasing tone, repeating almost the exact words you told him earlier.
A bubble of laughter escaped your lips. You didn’t expect your tea puns to end up a success, but you definitely weren’t complaining.
“Then it seems like we have something in common,” you said, peering up at him through your lashes. His eyes were a warm red, reminding you of a hearth warming up a home you found yourself drawn to. “I can’t wait to try your homemade tea.”
“I hope I don’t disappoint.”
“Trust me, there’s no way you could.”
Upon request, here is a rec list of bottom Louis fics with cocky Harry. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!
1) Zip Your Lip (Like A Padlock) | Explicit | 4151 words
Louis is a brat. Harry goes to watch him dance. Can you blame them?
2) Your Apathy’s Like A Wound In Salt | Explicit | 5312 words
“What a fucking ass!” Louis shifts his body so he’s completely facing away from the scene. “I asked him last night to fix my car and he said he would accept a payment in the form of me sucking his dick. I guess he’s really desperate, I can’t believe him.” Louis rolls his eyes, finishing off his drink in one go.
Niall shakes his head and shrugs, “I told you to ask any other mechanic in town but you didn’t listen to me.”
“Well, I didn’t think he would fucking say that now did I, Niall?”
“Louis,” Paige rests a manicured hand on his shoulder, “So, you’re saying you still wouldn’t hit it?”
“My ex?” She nods. “Yeah, I’d still hit that. Except this time it would be with a car or a baseball bat.”
Suddenly, Niall spits out his beer all over the table as Paige bursts out laughing. “Fucking ruthless, you are.” Niall runs a hand through his styled hair.
3) Anything Goes | Not Rated | 10275 words
Harry probably shouldn't be amused that Louis has a death grip on his hand and is dragging away from an event that, you know, they should be at. And he still probably shouldn't have that god awful smirk plastered to his face when Louis shoves him into the bathroom and steps in before locking the door.
4 Don't Hold Back Now | Mature | 11103 words
Harry gives Louis everything he asks for except for the one thing he wants the most. If only Louis knew who Harry truly was.
5) Rapture In The Dark | Teen & Up | 13153 words
Harry Styles is a breakout musician who has shed his boyband label in favor of embracing his inner brooding rockstar. His PR team think that his rebrand is the perfect time for Harry to come out of the closet and have devised the perfect plan for doing so. Enter Louis Tomlinson, up and coming (and very openly homosexual) model whose public image as America's Sweetheart is the perfect foil for Harry's new edge. From a PR standpoint, it's a dream come true - a power couple that can slowly coax the public into accepting Harry's altered image. The only problem? They hate each other.
6) Works Like A Charm | Explicit | 18088 words
Ever since Louis joined the team in fifth year, a few facts have become set in stone.
One: Louis is the best chaser in Hogwarts.
Two: Harry is the best beater in Hogwarts.
Three: They do not get along.
So it’s really unfair of Liam to think that forcing them to spend time together as Louis recovers from his injury will make them the best of friends. The last thing Louis would do is get along with that git.
7) Up To No Good | Explicit | 26525 words | Part 2 | Part 3
Harry doesn’t think of himself as a womanizer, not at all. Sure, he enjoys sex, enjoys how women feel underneath him, and by some people’s standards he has sex with quite a lot of people, but that’s no reason to tell him that he can’t have a female PA anymore.
It’s especially no excuse for giving him a male PA who’s possibly the most gorgeous boy in the world who won’t even let Harry look at him for too long.
Sometimes Harry hates his life.
8) Nicotine | Explicit | 32345 words
“We’re two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we’d never date.” Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.
9) When Our Worlds They Fall Apart | Explicit | 42228 words
Harry put his hand over his heart as if Louis had wounded him. “You’re so harsh, my liege! Perhaps you need to relieve some tension…” He let his voice trail off suggestively.
“The day I ask YOU to relieve tension is the day I lose all my wits and join the Imperials,” Louis said. “It will never happen.”
10) Submarine From Hell | Mature | 76049 words
Louis and Harry are the first omega and alpha, respectively, to become submariners, they have to find a way to survive lethally too strong suppressants while being forced to live in confined quarters with each others. In a submarine among betas, they decide to risk their blind noses by stopping all suppressants, but eventually, they must find a way to survive their heat and ruts, all while not getting killed in combat.
11) Waiting On You | Explicit | 76576 words
“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.
Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.
“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.
Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.
12) The Entertainment | Explicit | 94799 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
For Harry's upcoming album release, his team dreams of hiring him a PA to help assist with the burden that comes with a launch. Louis Tomlinson is a highly sought-after PA who's worked with many A-listers.
13) Tainted Sights And Velvet Vices | Explicit | 126082 words
A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they're forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.
14) Collision | Explicit | 226294 words
Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
love language | myg
pairing: min yoongi x oc
genre: FLUFF, that's it
warnings: this is just so cute and self-indulgent lol
words: 5, 123
summary: how min yoongi loves you
“You know there isn’t a point in inviting me out for brunch to only sigh and stab your overpriced meal with a fork right? I already see you enough on a daily basis and I think I’m exceeding my _____ quota for the month.” Jimin says dryly.
Usually, you’d quip back with an equally brute remark of your own but there’s something far heavier lingering at the back of your mind. A territory you weren’t quite sure how to navigate and vocalise. Jimin picks up on your silence and stamps it as odd behaviour because you were far more … hands-on when it came to your retorts but today you’re dead quiet.
Jimin leans forward on his elbows to give you a concerned look when you still silently assault your meal with the fork in your grip.
“… is this even _____?”
You look up and your expression is unimpressed. Jimin raises his arms up in defense before retreating to the comfort of his plush sofa chair—a product of allowing him to choose the venue for your dire brunch that and the cost was your empty wallet and every last bit of your mental health.
“What do you think of Yoongi?”
The question throws Jimin off not because he has no idea who that is—but because you were shy and timid. A soft-spoken person by nature that liked keeping to yourself and that was a huge juxtaposition in terms of your friendship with Jimin because he was everything you were not. He was loud, the biggest person in every room, and the person that everyone knew on campus.
Your friendship was an unlikely occurrence even for your lecturers when they’d glance at you from the hallways or when your peers would eye you oddly when they’d see Jimin partaking in every extra-curricular there was available and while you chose to do your own thing, far away from the action and where you were safely kept in your own bubble.
Jimin is surprised because you were already very private, and as your best friend, he didn’t take any offense to that when you didn’t share matters of your life with him. He already overcompensated for the fact that all he did was talk about his personal life—which you didn’t mind either. It was a healthy balance and a give and take that the two of you found a pattern with.
So for you to bring up the name of your boyfriend—which Jimin only knew because he caught a glimpse of a name with a heart and a text with the word ‘date’ attached to it—was definitely out of character.
“Yeah. This definitely isn’t _____,” Jimin says, “I’d like her back, please. I need someone to have no backbone so I can trample on her without her ever complaining.”
You glare at him even harder and stab the lettuce on your plate harder.
“You know what? Forget it …” You mutter, pushing your plate away from you.
Jimin levels you with a wry look and reaches his hand out to stop you from being overdramatic with your actions. Since you weren’t the best with words, you naturally compensated for being a little excessive with your actions in hopes for other people to be able to pick up on your hints. And as your best friend—Jimin knew that you were bottling something inside and wanted him to pry.
“You know this trick isn’t going to work on me, right?” Jimin points out, “And as much as I call myself the self-proclaimed genius between the two of us I can’t read minds so you’re going to need to elaborate on what you mean by ‘what do I think of Yoongi’.”
You scowl and fiddle with your fingers when Jimin gives you a look that tells you that you should speak up or forget about it. Sometimes you hated the fact that Jimin was confident and assured of himself, never avoiding confrontation while all you did was dodge it. Another reason why your friendship was unlikely but somewhat necessary.
“As my friend … what do you think of Yoongi—” You mumble, “—for me.”
Jimin raises an eyebrow at your soft tone.
“For … you?” He parrots your question back.
Your ears burn and you feel stupid enough asking Jimin about his opinion on Yoongi when you already felt flustered even mentioning his name to anyone that wasn’t yourself.
“Jimin …” You whine.
“Don’t Jimin me,” He snaps, “You know my hearing is bad.”
You roll your eyes and cast your eyes downwards to your abandoned plate as you pick at the skin around your nails, a habit you’ve picked up from Yoongi. Though you can’t really say that you picked it up from him since it was also a nervous routine of yours but knowing that Yoongi shared that in a different way made it feel like you got it from him.
He wasn’t being harsh on you—in fact, this was him encouraging you to open up because while he was all hard and edges, and possibly overbearing at times; he respected you and loved you as a friend. You were never mean, rude or disrespectful and even if the two of you were fundamentally different in nature, you co-existed peacefully and were able to share little things in common that made the interactions between the two of you fruitful.
And he knew that speaking of your relationship with Yoongi was hard not because he was treating you horribly (at least he hopes so) but because you had the tendency of solving all your problems yourself. Even ones that were far out of your range of capability, and as someone who has received an abundance of help and advice from someone as soft-spoke as you—he wanted to be able to reciprocate somehow.
“Are the two of you okay?” Jimin asks.
You nod your head.
“We are … I just—well …” You mumble, “I just want your opinion.”
Jimin raises his eyebrow because he didn’t want you to feel like he needed his approval for you to date Yoongi. He trusted you and knew that you were smart enough to let the people you felt the same way about in.
“Babe, you don’t need my opinion. You’re the one in the relationship with him and as long he’s not being manipulative, abusive or an unwarranted jackass then I have no right to interfere in your relationship.” Jimin frowns.
“No, no … it’s not like that,” You shake your head, “I just wanted to know what you think of him … as a person.”
Your request is odd for multiple reasons, but mostly because of the timing because it seemed like a question you’d pose before the two of you made it official but this question came eight months into the relationship.
“I don’t think I can give you an answer _____. My interactions are limited with Yoongi as it is and I can’t give you an objective answer without sounding like a complete asshole if I judge him based on the way he looks.”
“Why would you sound like an asshole?” You furrow your brows.
Jimin shoots you a deadpan.
“Min Yoongi is the poster boy of the average college girl’s wet dream and he checks all the boxes of fitting all the stereotypes of a brooding, mysterious jock with a secret that he hides only for a girl to swing into his life and change his outlook completely. He’s quiet—quieter than you—and downright intimidating. It doesn’t help that you don’t want me hanging out with him just yet—which I totally respect by the way—so that just adds to his aloof aura.”
You blink at Jimin.
The description of Yoongi based on his outward appearance is … apt. But not what you were looking for. You knew that when you first saw Yoongi at band practices was when you first decided that you were scared of good-looking people. Albeit Jimin was also insanely attractive but he had an atmosphere around him that made people feel comfortable. Not that Yoongi actively made people uncomfortable … but he radiated major celebrity vibes that it was intimidating to get close to him.
Until small talks happened to shared giggles and him eventually asking you out informally, a context outside of your band practices that you saw glimpses of Yoongi that no one else did. He was soft, understanding, and though a little bad at expressing how he feels … but he was Yoongi and you liked him.
You might even love him, but there are times where you’re hesitant about your relationship.
“I think I love him.” You squeak.
Jimin’s eyes widen, another surprise for him for the day because you’ve just ignored his very superficial description of your boyfriend, which he half-expected you to be mad at. But for you to say that you thought you were in love with him was just a reaction he was not expecting at all.
“You—okay?” Jimin scrunches his eyebrows, “I’m happy for you, I really am! But … that doesn’t explain why you need my opinion?”
You breathe out and will yourself to look at Jimin’s face, even with the burn of your cheeks.
“You’re my … best friend, Jimin.” You say softly.
Jimin’s eyes ease on your timid features before he reaches out a comforting hand to grab onto your own, nudging you to look into his eyes. Even though Jimin was outgoing as it is, the reason why you stayed friends was that he took the time to understand you and adapt to you even when he didn’t need to. He knew that you were just shy and he never berated you for it, which is why you wanted him to know how you felt—because what he thought was important too.
“_____, love,” Jimin whispers, and you offer a weak smile, “I’m happy for you. Truly. Being in love is a beautiful feeling and I don’t need to be in love with a person to tell you that because love exists everywhere. It exists in the small things that make you smile or giggle when you come across it, and it exists in the way you do the things you adore and achieve your goals. But you don’t need me—or anyone’s—validation to love Yoongi. Love is so personal and so collective at the same time but it’s yours.”
You swallow and hope that you don’t cry in the middle of this posh and overpriced place, and it’s partially because Jimin sounded so earnest when he was talking to you but also because of the ruminating thoughts that plague your mind that made you suggest this brunch in the first place.
“I think I’m in love with him and he doesn’t feel the same.” You sniffle.
Jimin’s grip on your hand tightens momentarily along with his jaw, but he doesn’t want to act irrationally just yet.
“Why do you say that?” He asks tenderly.
You sniff and the tip of your nose turns red and Jimin wants to pat you on the head to comfort you, but the two of you are in public and he knew you hated being vulnerable in general—especially in the public eye.
“It’s just—it’s just—” You stutter, “You know how shy I am and how hard it is for me to … ask for things …”
When he hears your soft tone as your eyes dart away from his face, possibly embarrassed, he rubs a soothing thumb across your knuckles and listens to you intently.
“But I really try with Yoongi … because I want him to know how much I-I like him,” You whisper, “And every time I tell him how much I like him he just … he just smiles and looks away. Like he doesn’t—doesn’t feel the same.”
Jimin absorbs your words before he smiles softly at you. He understood how difficult it must’ve been for you because this was your first official relationship with someone who looked very closed off, to begin with, but based on your very short and rapt descriptions from time to time, Jimin could say that Yoongi wasn’t a bad person.
“Have you considered that he shows his love a different way?” Jimin asks.
You look up at him confused.
Jimin chuckles before offering you a small tissue, and you meekly accepted it as you dab at your waterline.
“We all have different ways of giving and receiving love, _____.” He tells you, “No person loves the same and no one feels the same type of love. We are all different because that’s in our nature. And like I said—I don’t know Yoongi well enough to say that he has a specific type of love language but if he’s stuck around for this long … it has to mean something, right?”
Your brunch with Jimin leaves you with something else to think about.
Perhaps you were a little shallow—narrow-minded if you will. But you trusted Jimin, and you decided to see what he meant. You knew that you didn’t have the stereotypical love of shows or movies because while it did depict some form of reality, it was heavily sensationalised and exaggerated. But you never considered that Yoongi had a way of his own, one that was personal and unique to him.
Yoongi never made you feel like you weren’t enough. But the lack of the words that sit on your tongue also made you feel like he didn’t feel the same. It was never what he did, but how you felt. It was irrational, but he was objectively a very attractive person. In more ways than how he looked but the way, he treated others.
He’s mellow and gentle. Words never harsh but sharp enough to make people think. He’s efficient and kind when he wants to be and you see the way he treats his friends and staff at restaurants, even if he’s a little quiet too. The two of you were somewhat similar, but you felt so much for him that you somehow overlooked that one part—that maybe he was quiet in the way he loved too.
But you didn’t want to get your hopes up because while you weren’t … horrible. You weren’t anything spectacular either. You did decently in school, had a decent friend group that mainly consisted of you, Jimin and his other best friend, Taehyung—who told you that you were as much of his best friend like you were Jimin’s—and your bandmates that you shared with Yoongi.
Yoongi was quiet but collateral. He excelled in school, topped his classes two terms in a row, and produced impeccable music on the side. He was charismatic when he had to be an extremely introspective that you sometimes felt lacking when you hear him speak about the world and people.
Maybe that’s why he just smiles and looks away because Yoongi is too kind to break your heart, and his eyes tell the truth.
Maybe that’s why he doesn’t—
“______?” Yoongi calls your name and snaps you out of your daydream.
“Huh?” You respond dazedly and he just smiles at you, gentle as always before he nudges your shoulder slightly forward to place a—pillow?—in between your back and the chair that you were sitting on in his apartment.
“I’ve read somewhere that this helps with your posture.” He tells you, “You said you were having lower back pains so this may help.”
You blink at him and then at your assignments sprawled on his dining table, before turning your head to spot the pillow that you remember gifting him as a small present months back, behind your back, and in between you and the chair. The tension in your lower back does feel alleviated, and you turn back to Yoongi to offer him a gentle smile.
“Thank you, Yoongi.” You say softly.
He smiles at you and the simple gesture makes your stomach flutter with butterflies and your heartbeat a little faster. It’s crazy that the simplest of acts could turn you into mush and that he’s had your heart captive. The word sits on your tongue but fear wins over again.
He brushes stray hands of hair that falls by the side of your face, away, before gathering it with his hand at the back of your neck and tying it with a rubber band that you remember leaving at his place a while back.
“How can you see with your hair in the way?” He scolds, but it’s light.
You scoff, giving him a glare but it’s playful too. It does feel better like you have a clearer vision of the work that you were doing.
“Don’t be mean …” You mumble.
Yoongi laughs and it’s your favourite sound after the bell of your favourite bakery.
You like this look on him, eyes crinkled and mouth open in a gummy grin that you were the cause of. The will to say the word becomes harder, the way he leans in to peck you on the lips makes your mouth move on its own accord.
So before you can justify your actions, you say—
“I love you.”
The words are out and it seems to linger in the air because of the silence. You’re mortified, one because you had just blurted it out in the most unromantic setting ever, but secondly, because Yoongi is just … looking at you again. Like he always does when you tell him how much you like him—a soft smile, but this time his eyes are trained on yours.
The fire on your cheeks feels all the hotter when you know there’s nowhere to hide, or no way to retract your words because you didn’t want to. You loved him—and his silence only solidifies your guesses on the unrequitedness of your love.
“I-I’m sorry!” You yelp, covering your face with your hands, “I-I didn’t—I know that you—I didn’t mean to say that!”
Yoongi continues to look at you and he’s inching closer to you until your locked against your chair, his arms resting around your back as his other elbow leans on the table when he brings his face closer to yours.
“You love me?” He whispers and his breath is on your lips.
Even as you’re overcome with the fact that you do indeed love him, and that he doesn’t feel the same. You can’t bring yourself to deny it, not when your heart has always been for him and your words a reflection of your own heart.
“Y-Yes,” You mumble, eyes looking away, “I’m sorry …”
Yoongi furrows his eyebrows and pulls away from you. The warmth of his body suddenly gone and it reminds you that you may have overstepped. That he realised that you were in too deep and couldn’t just leave you. It scared you, but the silence scares you more.
“Why are you apologising?”
You gulp, looking away but Yoongi nudges your chin to look at him gently. His eyes are still confused, but kind. The look that usually comforts you only makes anxiety settle in the pit of your belly.
“I know you don’t feel the same … it’s okay. I understand. I’m a little … hard to love … I know. B-But it’s okay. You don’t need to say it—at all. I can … I can deal with it. Just please don’t leave me.” You whimper.
Yoongi pulls away completely as if he’s been scathed. You don’t have anything else to say but you’re appalled to find your vision getting blurry and the lump in your throat getting unbearable. But you try not to cry, especially when Yoongi looks torn.
But he doesn’t do what you’re expecting and tells you that it’s over, but instead, he returns into your space, making you forget about your embarrassment and cups your cheeks ever so gently while looking at you with ardent eyes.
“Please don’t cry …” He whispers.
And you hate that you do. You cry because he’s holding you so gently and his hands feel warm against your cheek. You cry because you love him and he doesn’t feel the same. You cry because all your cards are out on the table and he’s seen it all.
“I-I’m sorry.” You choke.
Yoongi’s eyes soften before he leans in, pressing a gentle press onto your lips that has your tears in the way as a barrier. You’re still choking on your sobs but his kiss feels comforting and painful at the same time. You want to push him away but you’re selfish—you love him and the feeling of him holding you close like he may feel the same.
When he pulls away, he looks at you again with a gentle, yet intense gaze.
“You’re not hard to love,” He murmurs, “It was so easy falling in love with you because you’re my person. You’re the person that I look forward to seeing every day and the person that I think about the most. Please don’t ever say that you’re hard to love because falling in love with you was the easiest thing that I’ve done in my entire life.”
Your eyes widen, especially when he looks you directly in your own. Your eyes are a little puffy and you’re sure it’s an unattractive sight.
But Yoongi thinks you’re beautiful. He always does. He thinks you’re beautiful when you see him after your classes. He thinks you’re beautiful when you broke the plate you wanted to give his mother as a gift. He thinks you’re beautiful when you’ve just woken up and he thinks you’re beautiful when you’re laughing with his friends and your bandmates.
“I—I—you … you love … me?” You rasp.
Yoongi still has a soft hold on your cheeks, and he feels the wetness of your tears stain his hands but he’s unbothered. He’s more bothered about what you said. The way his heart clenches makes him feel like he’s not done enough. That he could do better to never be the reason for the sadness along with your tears.
“I love you. I do. So much.” He whispers, “You’ve made me feel the kind love that I never thought existed.”
You sob harder and you feel a little pathetic crying in his arms because … how could you have doubted him? You feel relieved and happy, and a little frustrated because you were insecure on your own terms. Even now that you know he loves you—you’re sceptical because he’s Yoongi and you’re you.
Yoongi tugs you into his arms and caresses you with the warmth of his hold, hand patting your head gently. He feels mellow and close while he allows you to cry a little longer. The silence isn’t suffocating anymore, but your mind runs wild with insecurities that you can’t help but—
“Do you really love me?” You ask softly.
Yoongi doesn’t let you go, but you feel him nod and hum against your head.
You nibble on your lips and clutch his t-shirt.
“Then w-why … why do you just smile and look away when I tell you how much I like you?”
Yoongi stays silent for a while, but you don’t take it as a bad sign. Even with your small arguments with him from time-to-time throughout the eight months you’ve been together, Yoongi has never once raised his voice at you or acted irrationally. In fact, he’s always stayed a little quiet for a while, as if he was thinking of the appropriate way to handle the situation before he spoke.
It only made you love him more.
“I’m sorry.” He apologises, and you feel like shit when you realise you made him apologise to you for no reason but he continues before you can pull away—grip tight around your relaxed figure.
“I’ve been in love with you for months,” His confession makes you gasp, the time that he’s mentioned only makes you a lot more confused, “I … this is the first time I’ve felt this way.”
You stay silent as Yoongi rubs gentle figures on your back, breathing into your hair as you rest your cheek on his chest.
“I’ve always been a little … quiet.” He tells you, “And maybe that’s why I felt so drawn to you because we were so similar. I saw you and thought that you were a beautiful person. That your kindness wasn’t empty promises but actions and your smiles weren’t forced but comforting.”
You feel your eyes water again because of Yoongi’s truthful words. Damn your boyfriend for being able to wax poetic.
“I’ve always found it hard to express things with words, despite writing songs like people eat their meals. My mom always told me that I was a doer rather than a sayer.” He jokes, and you find yourself giggling a little when you think of Yoongi’s mother.
A strong woman, her tongue was as sharp as her sons and you definitely see where he gets his wisdom from. She was louder spoken, confident—and yet she was gentle and kind. A person that drew people in.
“I do things for you because I love you, ______. I love you in a way that can last forever because I want it to. I want to love you in a way that you’ll remember and always think of me when you see the physical pieces left by the footprints of my affection.”
It should’ve been cheesy but Yoongi has a way with words to make you blush and your heart flutter.
His words register in you, and you feel blind to not have seen it the entire time.
Even before this, when he placed the pillow behind you to support your lower back—or when he tied your hair back so you could focus better. Or the time when he drove all the way from his hometown back to campus because you were performing a solo piece for band, then drove back to see his parents.
You remember the song he wrote to you for your birthday, accompanied by a book that you’ve put on your Wishlist for months. The memory of his gentle hands removing the face mask from your face when you’ve fallen asleep and tucking you into his bed pricks your mind.
Looking back—you remember feeling absolutely loved and adored. Even if you didn’t explicitly think of the word ‘love’—but you felt safe, comforted and accepted. And you realise that love isn’t one-dimensional. Love is everything that makes you feel complete.
When you look up at him, he’s still offering you the same gentle smile he does when you told him how much you liked him—to when you said you loved him. He still looks the same, smiles the same, and feels the same. It’s you.
“I’m sorry.” You wail.
His eyes widen but you don’t cry. You feel dumb, blind almost because he’s been nothing but loving towards you but it was you who had your doubts.
“Baby, please don’t apologise.” He runs a thumb across your cheek.
“I just—I can’t believe I accused you of not loving me when all you’ve been doing is—when all you’ve done is treat me amazingly. I feel so … stupid.” You groan.
Yoongi smiles at you and rubs his thumb in between your furrowed brows.
“You’ll get wrinkles if you frown all the time.” He tuts.
You glare at him through puffy eyes but hold on to him tighter.
“I really am sorry.” You mumble.
“I’m sorry too. I should’ve been more—explicit.”
You frown, pulling away.
“No Yoongi.” You say, “You loved me in your own way and I felt every bit of it. I just conflated the need of being reassured with words and being reassured in your gestures. I shouldn’t have doubted you and projected my insecurities onto you.”
"And it's not your fault for feeling insecure. I'm your boyfriend and I want to be able to reassure you in every way I possibly can. If you need to hear an I love you I'll shout it on top of the highest roof I can find—if you want to be held then I'll hold you and never let go."
Your heart flutters and you bask in his gentle words.
Yoongi wraps a gentle hand around the nape of your neck before bringing you closer, lips hovering right above your own before he closes the distance. His lips are warm and soft, and he doesn’t rush the kiss as if he was dealing with porcelain glass. But he knew you weren’t fragile and easily broken—but he still knew that you were someone that he wanted to care for, for a long time.
He kisses you and it feels right. It feels like you were returning home after months away.
When he pulls away ever so slightly to look into your eyes, breath still fanning on your lips—you feel welcomed.
“When I think of love I think of you. When I think of happiness your face appears in my mind. And when I think fo you, I think of what I can do to make the environment we have a little better for you. I love you, _____. And I’ll spend as long as I can reminding you.”
“Yoongi …” You blush because you didn’t know how romantic he could be when he wanted to.
“I’m serious, _____.” He looks at you seriously, “You know what my mom said when I brought you over?”
You raise an eyebrow because while you remember the meeting being absolutely pleasant, even if you did fumble and break the gift you brought. His mother only smiled at you, the same one that marks her son's face—and said that it was okay. It only meant that you should come again to compensate. Her tone was light and comfortable, and you immediately felt the tension be alleviated from your shoulders.
He takes the tilt of your head as his cue to continue.
“She said that she’s never seen me as expressive as I was when I was with you,” You snort at his exasperation, but you see the honesty that pours out, “Hyung even said that I’ve gotten soft.”
You roll your eyes when he tugs you closer by your chair until your legs were dangling by the side of his hips. Your arms are wrapped around his shoulders and Yoongi still smiles at you like it’s the most natural thing to do.
“But I like you soft …” You smile.
“And I love you with me.” Yoongi returns.
You blush, and you allow him to hold you close.
And in his arms, do you realise that some things didn’t need to be said.
hey! so i was re-reading one of the 5th second one-shot (the after hiatus one) and i couldn't stop thinking what y/n was really like back in the day! like when luke mentioned she chased niall around the arena and that she was a handfull. so maybe i thought i could request y/n goofing around and such (maybe like annoying a member of 1d and got in trouble with liz) anyways, take care! <3
One Second of Direction
Summary: based on the request
Pairing: 5SOS x member!reader, 1D x reader, Luke Hemmings x reader
Warnings: insecure Luke, minor angst, slight jealousy
Word Count: 958
The sound of Niall screaming reverberated Luke's ears as he stopped his motion on the segway, watching as the irishman bolted across the back of stage, though the younger male was not surprised. Since they had joined the worldwide famous boy band on tour, they had grown used to the child like occupancies that they exhibited within their behaviour; it made him and his own band members closer to them and feel as though they fit into the environment better. And so when your body whisked past his eye-line, chasing the heels on the boy that had just passed, Luke was unaffected. He knew he was dating an idiot, but being away from your homeland was only further proving that fact and succumbing it to reality.
When you had temporarily migrated to London to pursue better chances at getting noticed as a musical group, it shun light on how all of you behaved without adults around. It was exactly what you expected. Chaos. Though technically Liz was lurking around somewhere, as she had travelled across the world to continue to supervise her son and his friends, which sounded more like a chore than a vacation, however she had no regrets of doing so, it was a duty that was condoned through being a parent. And as expected, the blonde woman came stalking out, her movements effortless as she knew that eventually she was catch the troublemaker whether that be sooner or later; you couldn't run forever, and thus she wouldn't have to chase you for such an amount of time.
"Lucas." Sure that wasn't realistically his name, but the guitarist opted against correcting his mother, and instead lifted his head to look her in the eyes. "Where did your girlfriend go?" Sighed his mother in question, unsure of how you had become this much of a pain from being elsewhere but Australia, usually she'd be praising you for your good behaviour, though it was clear that the clash of overseas bands had brought a new spark to your actions - to disobey everything that any adult said. They had been trying to do your hair for a photoshoot, nothing grand but apparently through it it had been impossible for you to sit down, and now you were gone, along with Niall.
"Dunno." He shrugged, only to earn a brooding squint from his mother. "That way." He gave in after a second, aware that you'd be complaining to him later about the fact that his own mother would have called your parents, and you'd earn yourself an earful about responsibilities and maturity over the phone. That was certainly not what you were striving towards, however that was inevitably what you were going to receive. Liz followed his surrender of direction, as Luke pondered what he was to do next until you'd return and grumble to him about the lack of fun that you were enduring.
Luke squinted, hating the look in his eyes as he looked at you. They got along, well in fact, but it was clear that the pair of you were attracted to each other. Just thinking about the walls of your bedroom back home with posters of the Harry Styles on them made him grit his teeth, hating the way that you laughed together. A kick to his leg made him switch his gaze to the side, though he wasn't confident on directing his view away from where you were snuggled up with the brunette. "Don't worry about it mate." Louis spoke, and now Luke too felt like he was fraternising with the enemy, though none of them had specifically done anything wrong.
He knew that you'd never cheat, and there was an age gap between you and Harry anyways; but he found himself preferring that you'd be a fangirl of him than a real life friend. That thought made him nervous, he believed you could do better than him and such a thing was currently under your own nose. "I'm not worrying." He replied, his tone deafeningly saying otherwise.
"Sure you're not." Sarcastically spoke the Brit from beside him. "But know that whilst she's sat over there with him, she is thinking of you. I was talking to her earlier, and she wouldn't shut up about how long the two of you had been together and how much she loves you and how excited she is to start this road to the rest of your lives together. Y/n is your girl, and she knows that." He patted him on the shoulder, standing from the dressing room couch, whistling to capture the attention of his friend. "Hey Harry, d'you wanna go play some ball?"
"Actually-" Louis rolled his eyes at Harry, clicking his tongue unamused at whatever excuse that the lead singer was about to come up with.
"Get your arse up, I need to talk to you about something." Louis emphasised his pronunciation so that Harry could tell that he was not joking around, and with a long sigh, Harry stood whilst bidding you goodbye. As soon as they left, you dived onto the sofa beside your boyfriend, laying your head on Luke's lap. You reached your finger up and tapped the tip of his nose.
"Hey." He spoke softly, realising that he couldn't hold anything against you even if he tried. His brooding face broke as he looked at your features, unaware of Liz looking through the gap that the retreating males had left in the doorway.
"Did I tell you with my phone call with my parents?" It was a full circle made by your words, and he shook his blond head, keen to hear what you had to say, even if you were going to do nothing more than actually complain.
Taglist@itscheybaby @coucoukayy @reallygroovyholland @lukehemmingsleftnipple @innocent-as-a-rose@marvel-af@kingxnichole@winchestergirl907
You suck them off while they’re on the phone.
Kozume Kenma x Reader
Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader
Miya Osamu x Reader
Here you go Anon, I hope you like it!!! I am pushing the Oikawa, Kuroo, Bokuto bffs agenda because we were robbed of that interaction. I just know they would all be good friends like please,,,, imagine these mfs in college together as roommates.... It would be so perfect and they all have the brooding quiet type s/o heheh.... Also, I saw spoilers for bnha and um..... ummm.... UMMMMMM
SEMI-SMUTTY // NSFW
Kenma has the best poker face, nothing is going to give away the fact that he is getting head
Except for when a tiny, tiny, appreciative sigh leaves his lips…..
Then the other person on the line, most definitely Kuroo will be like ‘Yo, what are you doing~’ Yes, Kuroo can tell when Kenma is getting head and will probably praise him for it
I think if you first try your advances Kenma would simply stare at you with disgust, making no effort to hide that same level of repulsiveness in his voice
He’d go along with it though because he is not going to try that hard to stop you, ‘why waste that energy’
His nimble fingers would card through your hair and he would instantly become relaxed like his shoulders would go limp and he’d flutter his eyes shut
Kenma would still be able to keep up with the conversation though because he doesn’t really add that much input anyway
However even though most people wouldn’t find any difference in his change of attitude….. Kuroo would notice, how can’t he? He would notice the subtle changes in his pudding hair best friend and would be like ‘are you getting head right now’
To which Kenma would go bright red and tense up really quick and try to hide it but ultimately give up and just sigh in defeat ‘yeah’
Kenma doesn’t like talking on the phone,,, you take it upon yourself to help him relax~
Kenma pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, trying hard not to let the hiss escape his lips. He doesn’t glance down at you, he knows that if he did, he would come undone. The feeling of your warm mouth sucking him in so nicely, your cheeks hollowing around his legnth, your tongue running underneath his cock, it makes his knees utterly weak.
“Yeah, I met that dude Oikawa, I don’t know why everyone hates him. He seems like a cool guy to me,” Kuroo aimlessly rambles, going on about how he met the well-known setter. “he’s going to hang out with Bokuto and I next weekend. You wanna come?”
Kenma sighs and it’s not because of your tongue. He silently thinks long and hard before speaking up again.
You end up gagging on his length, blame on the fact that you tried laughing while sucking him off.
“Kenma, you’d really like him.” Kuroo persuades and Kenma mentally pictures the pros and cons.
“I’d rather play video games,” Kenma’s fingers rake through your hair and he makes the mistake of looking down at you. A quiet moan leaves his lips, the perfect little ‘ah’ that he doesn’t even hear himself. The line goes quiet for awhile and Kenma assumes that it is because Kuroo is trying to come up with another reason why Kenma should join them.
“Is (Y/N) giving you head right now?” Kuroo asks boldly and you gag once again, pinching your eyes shut at the humiliation. Defeat washes over Kenma.
“Yeah.” He sighs and Kuroo hums slightly.
“Finally, good for you, take it like a champ.” Kuroo praises and Kenma’s nose scrunches in disgust. “Anyway, I’ll come by at like nine on Saturday okay? Oikawa is only in Tokyo for the weekend.”
Kenma never can win, can he?
Kuroo is suuuuch a showoff, please he will do it just to make you flustered
He will purposely roll his shoulders back, sit on the couch all arrogantly, stare straight into your eyes as he bites his lip, use his hand to push his hair back while purposely flexing his bicep, he does it all for your enjoyment as well
He is eye-candy and that bitch knows it,,,,, anything for his lovely s/o
Kuroo wouldn’t make any noises though because he doesn’t really want to get caught in the middle of a blowjob. You would refuse to finish him off and then he wouldn’t have your sweet mouth anymore…..
But,,,, if someone did catch him in the middle of a blowjob, Kuroo would not be embarrassed, please his ego would flourish I feel like he is into that kind of thing
Side bar…. Sometimes I go off with Kuroo and I think,,,, is this too occ? because I remember he is just a big science dork but then I remember no he is a scorpio and then it all makes sense, Kuroo is the best of both worlds
Kuroo wouldn’t be able to pay attention at all to the conversation at hand like Bokuto could be asking him questions about something and Kuroo is just like ‘yup, it was really hot today’ like he can’t keep up….. not when you’re so generously sucking him off
Then Kenma is like … and Akaashi is like … because they can put two and two together unlike their oblivious friend
It gets to the point where Kenma will start doing something else, like playing a video game while Bokuto tries to keep a conversation going between four people all by himself
Please, Kuroo is the ultimate tease with you but….. if he is going to get pleased then he will also try to please you as well
“And then the vice-principal got mad at me,” Bokuto groans loudly, his eye twitching as he thinks back to the incident that happened earlier in the week. “it’s not my fault he wears a wig!”
“Bokuto that was not the reason you got in trouble,” Akaashi sighs disappointedly, Kuroo doesn’t pay attention to them.
“What happened?” Kenma comments, slightly curious in the conversation at hand. Kuroo gently cups your cheek, running his thumb against your skin lovingly as he stares down you. At the sight of your teasing eyes and sinful tongue sucking on the tip of his hard cock, his thighs twitch beside you.
“… then Bokuto spiked the principals head to ‘kill the bug’ and also set his wig back to normal.” Akaashi finishes, heaving another disappointed sigh.
“See, I was helping him. He should be thanking me not scolding us for an hour.” Bokuto complains and Akaashi tries not to slap his captain through the phone.
“This is what I deal with on a daily basis, I even have a notebook to predict his next moves.” Akaashi tells Kenma, his head still numb from the scolding he had to endure earlier in the week.
“I don’t think anyone on our team is that bad, maybe Lev,” Kenma thinks and Kuroo licks his lips, his eyes darkening when he zones in on your mouth.
“Kuroo, is he even listening?” Bokuto asks curiously and Kenma narrows his eyes when he pieces together why his friend is so quiet. He knows Kuroo is either getting head or giving it.
“Ignore him, Bokuto, it’s good we don’t have to hear his voice.” Kenma tosses out and Kuroo gasps. Of course, out of everything, that is what he heard.
“Kenma!” Kuroo snaps and the setter simply hides further under his blanket on the other end of the line. “I’m just busy,”
“With what?” Bokuto eagerly pesters and Kuroo glances down at you once more.
Osamu also has a good poker face, nothing can give away that he is getting head…. There will be no slip-up from him
Unless Atsumu says something and Osamu’s competitive side jumps out for a hot second then…… then there is a slip up
‘Fuck you ‘Tsumu, I’m getting head that’s why I don’t care about your bullshit story’ cue a dramatic gasp from Atsumu and Ojiro on the other end of the line like … silence
Yeah, Osamu doesn’t do well when provoked…. Good luck with that one
Osamu wouldn’t say no to getting head like if you got onto your knees and pushed your hair back,,,, Osamu would be like ‘shit, here we go again’ he might be hesitant at first but then he will cockily accept it
He’ll carry on the conversation with disinterest, not really paying attention because all he can do is stare at you
Sometimes he will fuck your face,,,, literally….. he has no shame but when you gag too loudly then he lets you have control again
Osamu doesn’t really want to get caught…. He wants to shield you away from that
His little comments that he slides in conversations here and there will probably be noticed once he stops saying them because he is preoccupied with other things. The team can’t figure out what has him so distracted though
Osamu is usually pretty gentle,,,, until he gets angry so if you suck him off while he is having a conversation with Atsumu…. Good luck
“I have to help my grandmother around the house today, so there will be no practice. Take the day to rest.” Kita’s voice sounds throughout the multiple phones and Osamu lets out a soft hum. His eyes are staring directly at you while he holds your hair back out of your face, despite his neutral face you can still see the fondness swimming in his eyes.
“Say hi to gran for me!” Atsumu says and Ojiro glances at him, the two on the same device as they walk through the city.
“No.” Kita responds and Atsumu sighs dejectedly before going off on Ojiro when he starts to laugh at him.
Osamu continues to pay no attention to him, instead, he thrusts into your mouth while holding your head still so he can control the pace. It feels so good, he could fucking cum-
“Yo, ‘Samu what are you even doing? Reading your old man magazines?” Atsumu snickers when he notices how quiet his brother has been. Osamu closes his eyes momentarily, trying to calm himself down from snapping. He gently pulls himself off of you, allowing you to take over the pace.
“Eat shit ‘Tsumu.” Osamu snaps back, now watching the way your hands grip his strong thighs as you bob your head along his length.
“My grandmother-“ Kita starts but is quickly cut off.
“Ah, the shit that you cook ‘Samu?” Atsumu retorts, sticking his tongue out despite Osamu not being able to see it.
“Stop it, my grandmother-“ Kita tries again but Osamu interrupts him. The grip in your hair tightens as his anger grows.
“You really like that shit then since all you do is fucking eat it!” Osamu curses and Atsumu decides to tease him even more.
“I’ve never seen (Y/N) eat your cooking, that’s how you know it’s shit.” A gasp is heard right after Atsumu’s comment, Suna’s mouth falls open in shock.
“She eats all my cooking, I feed her well but right now she’s too busy sucking my dick.” Osamu spits and you immediately pull off of him, your mouth a perfect ‘o’ as you stare up at him in disbelief.
“You, right now?” Atsumu asks slowly and the line goes quiet.
“My grandmother is listening, I have the phone on speaker.” Kita finally finishes and the Miya twins start to count their final days.
@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @xxashshs @chaosamu @angelkogane @augustdearly @kunimwuah @littleshopoflove @osamuonigiri @pearzuko @darksxder @macaronnv @nerdygremlin @buzzybeebee
say it. out loud.
Trent pinches the bridge of his nose. “Ted, you must understand how utterly foolish I feel even having this conversation.”
“Would you rather have said conversation in a creepy, misty forest? Because I know I would. Aw, but the weather’s too dang nice out today and I don’t wanna keep waiting, we’ve been dancing this dance for too long already. All right, we’ll just have to do it here, then.” Ted moves to stand behind Trent.
Trent says, “What are you—”
“Come on, now, can’t you just humor a guy?” Ted says. “Been wanting to do this ever since that movie came out.”
There’s a long beat of silence while Trent wonders when he’ll wake up from this nightmare or perhaps when he’ll realize that this cannot possibly be his real life and in fact he’s caught in his own particularly inane version of The Truman Show (The Trent Show, naturally) and the horizon isn’t really the horizon, it’s just a wall, and on that wall is a staircase he can climb and at the top he’ll get to walk out into a world where things actually make sense, and then Ted is clearing his throat and saying, “Um, I believe your line is, ‘I know what you are.’”
“You can’t be serious.”
When Trent looks over his shoulder he sees Ted pouting like a child, his bottom lip sticking cartoonishly out, batting his eyes. Nothing infuriates Trent quite like being confronted with just how endearing he finds Ted, cartoon mannerisms and all. In for a penny, in for a pound. He sighs and he says, “I know what you are.”
Ted says, putting on a voice all husky and brooding (the sound of which Trent will be filing away for later, thank you very much), “Say it. Out loud.”
“Vampire?” Trent says with as much resignation as he can muster. He feels Ted step a bit closer and so he turns once again to face him head-on.
Ted’s giving him a different kind of smile than he has before. This time he’s not hiding his fangs. This time he is offering all of himself, Trent’s for the taking.
“Why, yes, I am, Trent Crimm. Does that frighten you?”
“No,” Trent says. “It shocks and it intrigues, but it does not frighten.”
“Good,” Ted says, and now he’s fully crowding Trent, his hands on Trent’s waist. “I’d hate to think you were worried I couldn’t control myself around you. I’ve had so much practice keeping my teeth to myself.”
Trent shivers a little bit (he tells himself it’s because Ted’s hands are just so cold), but he shakes his head and extricates himself from Ted’s grip. “You don’t get to act all seductive after forcing me to quote Twilight at you.”
Ted laughs. “I dunno how much more seducing I need to do if I’ve already got you quoting Twilight at me.”
“You know,” Trent says thoughtfully, “I think my countrymen would’ve had a much easier time accepting a vampire as the manager of a Premier League football team than an American. You really should’ve led with that.”
this is gonna be so much longer bc I’ve lost control of my life but for now. an offering. ty @leupagus for specifically suggesting recreating this scene
Hi! Could i request hcs for Diluc and Xiao with a reader who is shy? Thank you!
𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: xiao, diluc (separate) x gn!reader
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: a few swears in diluc’s! (it’s like one or two)
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: this is actually my first tumblr post.... ive been super busy with school, sports, and other stuff. sorry! ill try to write more in the future! (constellations has been doing everything so far since i still dont know how tumblr works lol)
also, these are stupid long... and for what.
adventuring was a lot for you to process
okay, so maybe having your own Benny’s Adventure Team was not great while traveling through Dragonspine and Liyue
too many of everything
you ended up getting really beat up.
after passing through Mingyun Village, you could see Wangshu Inn and decided to stay there until you were healed up
you always found comfort in the night sky, so you went out there every day
It was your fifth night staying at the inn before you saw a short male standing on the balcony where you would usually be. Strange. You’d never seen anyone like that before.
You seemed to have caught him off guard when you started to approach him since he jumped a little.
Taking a closer look at his face, you studied it a bit. He had golden eyes and dark teal hair that seemed to frame his face perfectly, accompanied by lighter streaks of the same colour.
Pretty... you thought, completely entranced by this strange man (boy?).
“Ah, sorry. I’m probably disturbing you... I’ll go now...”
god he’s in love
not even romantic love but he loved you like the past adepti
xiao would see so many couples over the years that he’s been at the inn and absolutely hated them, but this??
okay it’s a different type of love but damn it felt nice
You started to turn and walk back to your room before hearing his voice.
STAY??? WE MOVING KINDA FAST BUT ALRIGHT PRETTY BOY !!
On the outside, you were cooler than a cucumber. The inside? Chaos. Millions of thoughts raced throughout that little head of yours.
“Only if you’re fine with it...”
Turning back around, you took a few steps forward before noticing that he wore a lot of accessories on him. One of them being a mask that resembled one of the Vigilant Yaksha’s in that one book you read as a kid. Probably just a fan or something.
You reached the balcony, taking a spot next to him while also keeping some space between the two of you. Leaning on the balustrade (the railing of a balcony), you rested your head on top of your arms.
A comfortable silence was placed in the middle of the two. A silent breeze blew, adding to the mellow mood.
“What brings you here?” the pretty stranger suddenly inquired, gaining a small jolt from your serene state. “Did I scare you? My apologies.”
“Oh, uh, it’s nothing...” You lifted your head to look out at the lands of Dihua Marsh. Seeing Dragonspine in the distance gave you a chill. Those were not the greatest memories. The small movement didn’t go unnoticed by the boy.
“You’re an adventurer?”
“Oh... yeah, I am... I’m not that experienced yet, though...”
for SOME REASON... this man felt even more inclined to protect you
you still had a fair amount of bandages wrapped around your limbs, so it was clear that you were injured
GOD IF HE COULD JUST HUG YOU RIGHT THERE AND THEN
but he did not.
he has restraint.
he is a good boy.
“I met a traveler that wasn’t very experienced either.” This fact shocked you. So he has been here for a while... but why hadn’t you seen him before? Does he just... disappear into thin air..?
the answer is yes
he does indeed do that
but that’s besides the point.
“Oh... that’s nice...”
It was getting late. The moon was starting to lower back down and the lids of your eyes were getting heavier and heavier by the minute. You let out a yawn, but it was muffled by your head being buried in your arms once again.
“You should go get some rest.” You hummed.
Then, a thought popped into your head.
“If you don’t mind me asking... what’s your name?”
Even though you weren’t facing him, you could feel his piercing gaze on you. It wasn’t uncomfortable at all, but gave you a feeling of protection.
“Xiao.” You mouthed his name to yourself silently. It was nice.
“Goodnight, Xiao. I hope that we can do this again soon.”
“Goodnight to you...”
you were a cryo catalyst that tried to fight against some cryo slimes alone
hint: that was a bad idea
my favourite elemental reaction was immune!
literally... you couldn’t even do anything to them
and you were getting beat up.
for plot convenience you were at the lake next to Dawn Winery
At this point, you’d been fending these slimes off for around a quarter of an hour now and you were getting tired now.
Your dumbass tried to drown them in the lake but forgot that they immediately froze any moisture underneath them. You tried attacking them but everything you could do was inflict the freeze effect (against CRYO slimes).
You literally could not do anything. Time to get frozen to death!
Suddenly, a big fire bird swept up the slimes that had been occupying you for the last 20 minutes or so, effectively taking them out.
At this point, the only thing that kept you standing was your adrenaline, which quickly ran out as you dropped to the ground in exhaustion. You let out a sigh, finally free from those damned slimes. You will have your revenge one day... just not today.
While you were resting on the ground, your saviour had been standing there, watching you calm down. And so you looked up to be greeted by probing crimson orbs, which definitely startled you.
Your saviour was.... Master Diluc. Master Diluc Ragnvindr, wealthiest man in Mondstadt. Him. In front of you.
“OH! I, um, Master Diluc! What brings you here?”
‘WHAT BRINGS YOU HERE??’ HE LIVES HERE THOUGH??
“I was taking a stroll around the winery and happened to see you in your own predicament.”
You attempted to stand up, though your legs failed you as you only flopped back onto the dirt.
diluc doesn’t wanna admit it but that was unbelievably stupid, cute, and endearing
okay and what if this emo boy doesn’t like people
he still has feelings too >:(
“I’ll stay here with you so you won’t get attacked again. So relax.”
Mans was telling you to “relax” while you were in the presence of a literal typhoon here. He was so brooding and scary-looking all the time that you couldn’t even try to relax.
A few minutes pass and the sound of water rushing was the only thing keeping you two company.
It was nice to enjoy nature, but the tension between the two of you was still higher than ever.
To break this silence, you had tried to stir up some small talk.
“The weather is nice today, huh...”
He grunted, which seemed to be a regular response of his. You started to notice this after a few questions like “how’s your day been” or “have any plans today?”
Not that you were genuinely interested. You bet that he could tell that you were trying to make it less awkward by responding at all, but it just didn’t help at all.
You were probably sitting for a good 10 minutes before deciding to stand up again, in which you were successful. But could you walk back to the city?
That was debatable.
You definitely felt and looked unstable, so being the gentleman he was raised to be, Diluc reluctantly bent down and slung your shoulder over his.
The height difference between the two of you was pretty big, so he ended up just carrying you to his place. As goofy as it looked, it got the job done.
― riri ✨