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dollfaceksj · 3 months

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still don’t know my name | jjk (m) pt. 3

➥ banner by: @/archivedkookie.

➥ PAIRING: jungkook x fem!reader

➥ GENRE: smut ⋆ cybersex ⋆ enemies

➥ SUMMARY: In which your annoying neighbor—that you can’t stand—turns out to be the person behind the online account you’ve been sexting. You still don’t know his name.

➥ CATEGORY: mini three-shot

➥ WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, spanking, spitting, facefucking, brat taming, face slapping, overstimulation, unprotected sex (THIS IS REALLY DUMB DONT DO IT), creampie, degradation, praise, name calling (slut/bitch 😵‍💫 first time a man calls a woman a bitch in my fics but i felt like it fit in this IDK?) choking, kissing (kind of … pining???!!??) oral sex (m & f rec.), minors DNI

➥ WORDCOUNT: 8.6k

a/n: the finale is here😘😘 sorry it took so long! i hope u enjoy nonetheless 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

make sure to check out eli’s version too!

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

#3 — “game on” [finale]

There he is, obstructing your view completely.

Considering his raw beauty, one might argue that he is the view.

Arms outstretched above his head, hands resting against the doorframe as he looks down at you. With his arms raised like this, you can smell his deodorant. He smells quite nice.

Looks like he’s caging you. Keeping you trapped. Like the villain in a video game with outstanding graphics. You understand people who have a crush on animated characters because he looks ethereal.

The teasing glint in his eyes matches the mischievous one in yours. Like a dance battle that’s been going on for ages and you’re getting closer and closer to the finale. You can basically taste it.

It’s quiet for a few moments aside from your synced breathing. Neither of you seem to be willing to speak.

That is, until you realize that it’s ass o’clock and time isn’t exactly on your side. The decision to break the ice follows you swiftly. “Do you really have no respect for your fellow tenants?”

Acting like you don’t know why he’s here is the only way you can deal with the pounding muscular organ in your chest. It’s pumping blood to the rest of your body at immense speed, heating up your entire body in the process.

But you asked for this. You asked what the hell he was waiting for.

And it’s clear he was waiting on you.

He tilts his head to the side. Stifles a smirk. Raises an eyebrow. Shrugs his shoulders. He looks so smug. You want to punch him.

He clears his throat and looks around the corridor nonchalantly before he decides to give you an answer. “I have a lot of respect for my fellow tenants, actually. I just don’t see you as one.”

Your eyes pingpong between his from left to right, mesmerized by the big black tapioca pearls above his flushed cheeks that are intently staring you down.

“What do you see me as, then?” you ask, quietly yet as bitchy as you can. Arms crossed over your chest. Impatiently tapping your foot against the floor which creates a ticking sound, much like a clock.

Like he’s losing time and once the clock goes off, it’s game over. So much for a Gameboy.

His tongue peeks out from the corner of his mouth and swipes along his bottom lip, toying with his glistening lip rings for a moment.

If that was an attempt to get you to stare at his lips, he succeeded. Weak!

Staring at his lips throws you into a trance and you really wonder what it would be like to have those pressing down on yours. Shut you up. Make you melt into him.

“Granny. Annoying. Loud-mouth. Obnoxious. Rude,” he lists. Your eyes squint at him but before you can even respond, he cuts you off. “Spoiled brat that needs to be put in her place.”

Never mind.

You want to kill him.

You bring your shoulders up in an unbothered shrug. “Bet you won’t.”

Your witty words make him stare at you for a moment longer before he drops his head and humorlessly chuckles, shaking it in disbelief and bouncing his shoulders at that which he finds humorous.

You know he likes it, though.

He raises his head again. Stares at you. Drops his eyes to your pretty lips. Trails your lipline. Lets his gaze linger on your cupid’s bow. Shifts his eyes back to your feigned innocent eyes.

The simple act of his eyes never leaving you has your body heating up. As if lava is pumping through your veins. As if his body is pressed up right against yours. As if every small move you make is equal to putting a handful of sand in your mouth whilst you’re standing underneath the scorching hot sahara desert sun.

“Are you challenging me?” he asks, voice low as if he’s worried other people will hear him.

Ah.

There it is.

The first between you two to acknowledge what’s really going on.

You figured it’d be him anyway.

Now it’s your turn to acknowledge it.

“Not a challenge,” you answer with a slight shake to your head. “An invitation,” you clarify, mischievous eyes still glued to his figure. Consent comes first, after all.

The staring competition lasts just a little while longer. He then straightens his back and drops his hands from the frame of your door. Wastes no time stepping into your apartment. Shuts the door behind him with his foot.

Or at least that’s what you think because the speed in which he lunges at you makes you unsure of anything happening right now.

The momentum of his lunge at you knocks you back but he’s not letting you get away that easily.

One of his hands rests on the back of your head as his lips press down on yours like two magnets finding solace with each other. Your own hand slithers up his chest, nails digging into his shoulder. Some in the fabric of his shirt, some in his burning skin.

No matter how cool he plays it, he’s burning up much like you are.

He keeps walking, backing you further into your apartment until you’re pressed up against a wall. Trapped. Caged.

His tattooed fingers drape around your neck, pulling you closer to his body, closing the gap. Squeezes your throat like he’s afraid you’re going to somehow vanish into thin air.

He presses his lips down on yours even harder. Rougher. Uses his other hand to squeeze your hip. Grunts against your mouth.

Your other hand travels up his body to his bicep. Rests there. Squeezes. His arm is rock hard.

His lips parting makes you copy him, welcoming his tongue into your mouth. His wet muscle massages against yours, rough and needy. He tastes like mint. Must be his toothpaste.

He slowly starts pushing you towards your room and you assume he knows where it is because it’s the same layout as his apartment.

He pushes you until your calves hit the side of your bed. Makes you fall down. You grip his shirt to pull him down with you. He’s on top of you in no time.

He kisses you like he’s got somewhere to be. Pulls his tongue back just to mumble something. You don’t quite understand.

“Hm?” you hum, encouraging him to repeat himself.

He pulls back. “Safeword,” he mumbles again before pecking your lips once more, eyes glued to your mouth.

You stare at him as he pecks your lips continuously, your eyes so big and doe-like. “Uh…” You’re not sure what kind of a safeword would work. Your mind is blank.

He whispers, “Just say something. Anything.”

Anything?

“Butterfly.”

Butterfly? Really? Couldn’t come up with anything else?

“Butterfly?” he echoes.

“Butterfly,” you repeat.

He nods in confirmation and travels his hand down to your hip, dangerously close to the curve of your ass as he presses his lips against yours again in a hungry kiss.

All he needs is a little push.

You give him the little push.

Your hand reaches for your hip, shoving his palm further down your back until it’s resting on your ass.

You pull back from the kiss this time. “You wanna know my safeword but you still don’t know my name.”

He pinches his brows together. Stares at your lips. Looks like he wants to do nothing more than kiss you for years on end.

He brings his shoulders up in a nonchalant shrug. “I like calling you Angel.”

Ah.

Your own eyes drop down to his lips, black pupils trailing his wide cupid’s bow that’s begging to be kissed. “Thought it didn’t make any sense to you.” Your eyes shoot back up to look him dead in the eye. “You know, because I’m far from being angelic?”

He stares at you for a few seconds. Maybe half a minute. Intense eyes pingpong-ing back and forth between your own as if the answers to what goes on in your brain is written in them.

He slowly starts to nod his head. Scrunches up his nose for a split second before he tears his eyes away from you to stare at the wall in your room, at nothing in particular. It’s only then that you notice that he’s been closing the gap between your bodies and you’re only noticing due to the body heat radiating off of him.

He turns his head back to face you but avoids your eyes. Instead he tilts his head down, presses his lips against your neck in a soft kiss. He licks. Nips. Sucks. “Hm. I quite like contradictions, though,” whispers Gameboy.

You’re not sure what he means by it.

“Contradictions?” you echo as you tilt your head to the side, granting him more access to any skin he desires. You try to keep yourself from moaning but to no avail, so your new goal is to not be embarrassed by your heavy breathing and quiet moaning.

“Hm,” he hums in confirmation. All it does is send a shiver down your spine and makes your thighs clench. “You’re my favorite contradiction. Wanna give you nothing yet everything at the same time.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes dramatically, in hopes that he won’t be able to tell how that confession made your heart drum out of control in your chest. You can’t stand how he always knows what to say to get a reaction out of you.

You inquire, “What’s that even supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he abruptly pauses as he pushes himself off you, resting his ass on his heels. His hands wrap around the back of your knees, adding strength to push them all the way to your chest. Has you almost folded up into a human pretzel.

“Hey, I have joints!” You try to sound angry but you’re barely fighting back. Way to stand your ground.

“It means that I want to fuck the shit out of you but I also don’t want to give you the satisfaction.” He angles his hips in a way that makes his pelvis grind right into yours. It’s hard to ignore the rock hard boner rubbing against your sex and you’ve never hated wearing clothes more than you do at this moment.

“Like so.” He begins to thrust his hips into yours, eyes glued to the way the bulge in his sweatpants rocks against the seam of your leggings that’s located right on top of your pussy.

He starts dry humping you, brows furrowed in concentration. Sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. Finally looks into your eyes. “The only thing a slut like you deserves.”

Oh.

“Don’t you agree?” he whispers, eyes shifting up to yours—finally. Bottom lip still trapped between his teeth and cheeks tinted crimson.

He looks unreal. Ethereal.

A soft moan bubbles up the back of your throat at the sensation and it escapes your mouth before you can catch it.

But his words don’t slip your mind.

You squint your eyes at him. “Fuck you.”

Yeah, sure… that’ll show him.

It happens so fast. You don’t even realize it happened until after your lips have started stinging and a gasp has unintentionally ripped through your throat.

Did he just… slap your mouth?

He did.

Your hooded eyes shoot open and your brows pinch together, unable to ignore the tingle on your lips from the smack he’s left behind on them.

“You think you’re in any position to run your mouth, you stupid brat?” He doesn’t wait for a response from you and simply shoves his thumb past your lips, confident that you’ll happily welcome it.

Unfortunately, you do.

You welcome the tip of his thumb into your mouth, eyes still piercing into his. His eyebrow twitches when you swirl your tongue around it. Gently suck on it. Quietly moan at it.

His eyes stay glued to your face and he can’t seem to decide what he wants to focus on. Your pretty eyes that are lost in his as if you’re the most innocent creature on Earth or your pouty lips that are beautifully wrapped around the tip of his thumb like you’re the sluttiest whore with his dick in your mouth.

Either way, you’re a complete contradiction. How you manage to look so innocent yet so seductive seems like a mystery to him.

One he intends to solve.

He pulls his thumb out of your mouth with a loud pop and places his hands next to each side of your head.

He continues to dry hump you at the same pace but the strength behind his thrusts has changed. He’s snapping his hips so hard into yours that it makes your entire frame jerk from the momentum every time your bodies collide.

He grunts quietly. Shakes his head. “Shit, shit.” His eyes drop down to your lips for a few seconds before back into your eyes. “I need to fuck you.”

Dry humping you for barely 2 minutes and he’s already going back on his word?

You can’t help but provoke him. “I thought you said a slut like me didn’t deserve that? I could be wrong.”

He rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek, deeply contemplating something as his teeth pick at the loose flesh on his lips. After a few more seconds of mindlessly staring at you, he pushes himself off you. He gets up before he straightens his back and hoists you up, pulling you off the bed and onto your feet in one swift move.

He doesn’t even need to ask.

You instantly drop to your knees, eyes staring up at him.

He taps your chin with his finger. “Always running your dumb mouth. You know what happens to stupid girls that don’t know when to shut the hell up?”

Before you can give one of your smartass answers, his hand wraps around your jaw and grips it tightly to make you look up at him. You simply blink at him, as innocently as you can.

“They get their face fucked.”

Oh.

The only way to describe what you’re feeling is what you imagine a hot spear shooting down your core would feel like. Leaves behind a warm tingle pooling in your lower belly.

Your hands don’t waste any time as they travel up his thighs and your thumbs tuck under the waistband of his sweats. You flutter your lashes at him in hopes of getting permission to undress him.

He licks his lips and nods his head, watching you intently as you start tugging his sweats down.

You were right, you know. He really wasn’t wearing any underwear.

As you pull the hem down, the black markings come into view.

Your username.

Fuck.

He really is him.

Your eyes glance up at him and he’s already staring at you.

You tug his sweats further down, only to be almost slapped in the face with his dick. A quiet gasp of surprise escapes your mouth as you eye the view in front of you.

It’s exactly as it is in the videos and pictures he sends you.

You stare at it in awe, mouth already salivating.

He wraps his hand around the shaft and taps the tip of his dick against your lips. “Open.”

In the instance that you part your lips, he shoves his shaft right into your mouth without a single warning whilst cradling the back of your head to keep you still.

He doesn’t seem to care about your poor throat as he starts thrusting into it as if he’s got something to prove to the universe.

Saliva drips down your chin and onto your chest, staining your Power Puff girl shirt with dots of spit. Quiet gags resound in the back of your throat as Gameboy continues to push your head further down his shaft.

“Only fucking way to shut you up, isn’t it?” he grunts, the tip of his dick repeatedly slamming against the back of your throat and soft palette.

After a few more rough thrusts, he pulls out of your mouth and tugs your head back by the roots on your cranium to make you look up at him. You gasp for air, not paying any mind to how messy you must look right now.

He simply leans forwards, eyebrows pinched together as his tapioca pearls scan your face in a matter of milliseconds. “You okay?” he whispers, loosening his grip on your cranium and instead softly stroking it.

You blink in confusion at him. You’ve definitely never heard him sound that gentle when addressing you. Maybe only when addressing Bam.

But you quickly realize he’s genuinely just making sure you’re okay so far and whether you have any trouble with how rough he’s being.

With an eager nod of your assurance, he cockily chuckles. “That’s a good girl, isn’t it?” he slyly says before gathering saliva onto his tongue and spitting it out right on top of yours.

He straightens his back again before shoving his dick right back into your wet mouth. Makes him groan. Curse. Twitch on your tongue.

You happily keep your mouth wide open for him and his pleasure, fluttering your pretty lashes up at him. Your eyes blink back the tears repeatedly, almost like they’re trying to snap a photograph of this moment right now. Wanting to commit it all to memory. Wanting to commit him to memory.

“Fuck,” he grunts, “mouth so fucking good. ‘S why I prefer a brat that doesn’t know when to shut up.” His eyes are instantaneously on yours, black and hungry.

You can imagine, to be honest. All that shit-talking you were doing has brought you here. On your knees. Choking on a wet dick that you’ve been dreaming about.

You don’t think you could be any happier than you are at this moment.

“Gonna spill in your mouth,” he moans, hips never faltering in speed and precision.

Every time you open your eyes, you see your own username in faded black marker, right in front of your nose. Like you’ve been branded on him. Like he’s yours and yours only.

With your chest tightening at the pleasure you’re experiencing by giving him pleasure, the way he slips out of your mouth almost goes unnoticed by you.

He taps his dick against your tongue before reaching for your hand and leading it to his shaft. It takes you a few seconds to realize what he wants. He wants you to jack him off until he cums.

You wrap your hand around his shaft and aim the tip of his angry dick at your open mouth, eager to catch his cum on your tastebuds.

His eyes are staring you down so intently that it almost makes you choke on air. Luckily, you’re not a little bitch. You keep holding onto the eye contact like the little brat you are, though, defiant and stubborn.

He scrunches his nose up. Twitches his lips. Stifles a smirk. “Just like that, Angel.”

You keep your mouth open, tongue poking out past your lips. A slight shift on your knees makes you hyper aware of the wetness pooling in your panties.

Shit, you’re really turned on.

“Fuck,” he whispers, “gonna cum.” It doesn’t take long after for his dick to start twitching in your hand. Even less when ropes of his cum start shooting out of his dick, loud groans accompanying the wet sounds your hand makes whilst sliding up and down his soaking shaft.

More curses spill from his lips, eyes trying so hard to stay open and watch himself cum all over your tongue and chin.

With your head tilted and a shit-eating grin on your lips, you continue to milk him of every single drop until he squirms from the overstimulation.

You drop your hand from his shaft and bring your other hand to wipe your chin free of the saliva mixed with cum. His semen glides down your esophagus with a big gulp.

“Shit.” He throws his head back and runs his hands through his black locks. “Didn’t think I’d cum that fast.”

His eyes trail back to you, taking in the way you’re elegantly sitting on your knees, ass perked up on the back of your feet.

“I suppose you really are just all talk,” you quip, a smug grin tugging on the corner of your lips.

The goosebumps on the upper layer of your skin make an appearance when his hand wraps around your throat and squeezes it once. Twice. He bends over. Presses his lips to yours in a quick kiss. Messy. Hungry.

His tattooed hand abandons your throat to hoist you up by your biceps. He starts pushing you towards your bed until you fall back, cranium sinking into your soft pillows.

He rids himself of his tank top and yanks it across your room, not caring where it ends up before diving into your bed with you. Your thighs spread on their own accord, ready to let Gameboy do whatever he wishes.

His tongue makes an appearance as he swipes it along his bottom lip, eyeing the seam in your leggings. It makes his lip rings flick up. Makes your leggings more damp than they already are.

The slightest bit of pressure against your clothed pussy makes you jerk your hips up into his knuckles, the ones he was using to rub up and down your sex.

“You’ve soaked through your leggings,” he comments. “Got that wet from letting me use your dumb mouth, did you?”

His eyes flicker up to yours, the pad of his thumb still rubbing up and down your sex. You suppose he’s checking to see if you’re going to be a smartass about it or not.

You are.

“I got that wet from the thought of you ruining me and fucking me until I’m stupid like you said you would, but in all honesty, I think I might be falling asleep.”

Well.

The simple exhale that leaves his nostrils can only be described as a quick snort as his hand abandons your pussy in its time of need. You’re a second away from whining about it but Gameboy is quicker than you.

Tucks his fingers under the hem of your leggings. Yanks them down your legs. Doesn’t care that he tore the inseam of your leggings.

“Hey! You’re buying me a new pair!” You don’t really care that he tore them, you have a stockpile of these leggings that you could clothe a whole village with. You just want to be annoying.

He simply raises his finger to his lips, wordlessly telling you to be quiet.

“Wha–”

“Shh.” Shushes you. Eyes closed. Lips pursed. Brows pinched.

You lie there, confused. Legs spread. The only thing covering your attention-seeking pussy is the pathetic cotton panties that, by now, have completely been soaked by your arousal.

When you take another breath to speak up, he brings his palm down.

Smack!

“Ow!” Your hips jerk up off the bed once his palm comes in contact with your poor pussy.

Either you’re trippin’ off the hardest acid right now or he actually just spanked your vagina.

“I told you to be quiet.”

It simply earns him a glare but that doesn’t matter to him. The corners of his lips curl up and before you know it, his head dives down your body.

But what you don’t expect is his hands wrapping around the back of your knees and pulling you downwards so your back lies flat on the mattress as he settles in between your thighs, mouth pressed against the sticky fabric of your panties.

You’re barely able to get out a moan before he starts sucking on your sex through your panties, his eyes closed in concentration. He nudges your clit with his round nose. Does it again when you let out a moan that’s sweeter than the bottom of a bag of candy.

He pulls away which almost makes you whine but you clamp your mouth shut when he tucks his fingers under the hem of your panties. Glances at you through his brows.

You keep your bottom lip trapped between your teeth as he slowly starts sliding your panties down your legs, his eyes instantly glued to the faded black markings on your pelvis which spells out his username.

He tosses your panties aside and spreads your thighs by your knees again. His black irises stay glued to your soaking wet pussy, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Even prettier than I remember.” He lowers himself again. Wastes no time attacking your swollen clit with his angry tongue.

You reach for his hair, gently tugging on it with your fingers to pull him closer to where you want him. He obeys, burying himself in your sex with his entire face. Shakes his head to give you extra friction. Nudges your clit with his nose.

Your hips involuntarily jerk upwards but it doesn’t phase him in the slightest. He just continues to suck and lick at your pussy like a man starved.

Lying under him now is surreal. After all those months of talking to him, it’s hard to believe you’re in this position right now.

What’s even harder to believe is that he’s here.

That it’s him.

Him, of all people.

Your rude neighbor with a lack of manners and decency.

But for some reason, this makes it even more… satisfying?

He drags you out of your thoughts when he wraps his lips around your clit and pushes two of his fingers into you, creating gushing sounds that only further embarrass you.

He slurps, sucks, nips, licks. Looks up at you. Winks. Smirks.

The cold metal of his lip rings against your hot skin makes a shiver travel up your spine. Summons goosebumps on the upper layer of your skin. He notices. It makes him chuckle. The air from his exhale fans over your pussy. Gets you excited and whiny all over again.

“Shit, you taste way too good for a brat.” He uses both his thumbs to gently spread your folds apart to take in the beauty that is your soaking sex before pressing a soft kiss to your hole and shoving his tongue inside.

“F–fuck!” you cry out as he starts fucking his tongue in and out of you, nose nudging your clit and one thumb circling the rim of your asshole. It makes the all too familiar knot in your stomach slowly form.

“I’m gonna,” you pause, “cum.”

He doesn’t seem to care, though.

Because right as the knot threatens to snap, Gameboy pulls away. Stares you down as your arousal drips off his chin. He wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. The nonchalance he exudes while he does so makes you glare at him.

At least, to the best of your abilities, that is.

You’re a bit fucked out. Can’t feel your toes and your ears are ringing.

“Sluts like you don’t deserve to cum so quick,” murmurs Gameboy as he starts tugging at the hem of your shirt, the only fabric that still covers your body.

“But Jay!” you whine but he simply cuts you off by spanking your poor pussy again. You cry out. Your body jerks. It makes him huff in arrogance.

He adds, “Shut up and do as I say for once.”

You angrily huff as you yank the shirt off and toss it aside, somewhere on the floor near the pile of clothes. This allows your breasts to bounce free and his eyes are almost bursting out of their sockets as he takes the sight in.

His hands reach over your chest before his eyes peek up at yours, waiting for any sign of approval or permission. You reach out to his hands and bring them down to your breasts, wordlessly telling him there’s nothing more you’d want than this.

Even though he just came, he’s already sporting a semi hard-on from eating you out. The moment his hands grope your breasts, a soft groan leaves his throat. He can’t seem to stop staring at them. “Holy shit,” he mumbles, continuing to grope and massage them.

He gently pinches your nipples. Leans down and takes one into his mouth. Sucks with as much fervor as he can muster.

Several moans spill from your lips as he continues and the inflating dick against your thigh doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You hate to admit it but it boosts your ego to the max.

You hate it because men will fuck a hole in a tree. They get turned on by anything. But in this moment, you know that Gameboy wants you as bad as you want him and you can’t wait until he finally does what he came here to do.

“Fuck me,” you whimper, “fuck me, please.”

He raises his head, letting go of your breast with a loud pop as he stares you down. “Oh, wow. Where’s all that attitude? You finally starting to fall off your high horse?” He sounds so full of mockery when he says these things but you don’t care anymore.

If he doesn’t fuck you this instance you might die.

“No, bozo. I’m waiting to see what you’ve got in store. It seems like you keep delaying it because you can’t back your talk,” you reply almost right away.

Almost as soon as the words leave your lips, he slaps you on the mouth again. This time with a little more force that makes your lips tingle with a stinging sensation.

It makes you gasp. Not in surprise but in bliss. You only run your mouth to have him put you in your place. It’s too good of a feeling to know that you can get under his skin like this.

He stares at you with a look in his eyes that you can only describe as a combination of disbelief and amusement. “You’ve always got something to say, don’t you?” he mumbles as he reaches for his pants and rummages through its pockets before returning his attention to you.

You stare at the golden item in his hands. A condom.

Ain’t nobody got time for that.

You don’t even hesitate when you reach out, snatch it out of his hands and toss it to the floor.

It’s almost like he expected you to do that when his chest rumbles as he chuckles. You glance at him with such a desperate look in your eye and you think this time it might’ve worked.

Because he slowly pushes your thighs back and uses one hand to position his already hard dick by your pussy, rubbing it up and down your disgustingly soaked slit.

“You’ve got me dripping with precum, I hope you know that,” he quietly says. Slaps his dick onto your slit a few times. Moves it to the side as he purses his lips to let a drop of his saliva drop down onto your pussy, watching it dribble down your folds. “Fuck.”

Your teeth sink down into your bottom lip as you watch him go to work, the perfect view in front of you. You can see his concentrated face, his glorious body and your own pussy seconds away from a good pounding.

“Ready?” he whispers, eyes shooting up to yours and they’ve got the same twinkle as when he asked whether you were okay during the throatfucking.

You quickly nod and look back down at your sexes, eagerly waiting for him to finally push into you.

And he does.

He slowly starts to enter you, hips moving at a pace that makes you want to scream your head off.

You’re impatient but you know it’s best for your own good.

“Fuck. So fuckin’ tight,” he whispers as he pushes even more until he’s filled you up completely. Your walls uncomfortably stretch around him but you simply welcome the burn as you reach out to his shoulders and pull him closer to you.

He closes the gap between you two and instantly connects his lips to yours, kissing you so roughly that it takes you by surprise considering how gentle his lower body is treating yours.

After a few more seconds of making out, which ultimately helped you relax, you tap his shoulder and mumble the word “move” against his lips.

He hears you loud and clear.

Slowly starts rocking his hips into yours and it makes you moan into his mouth. He simply swallows your moans, licking into your mouth to steal every single sound you make.

You wrap your legs around his waist in hopes of pulling him even closer to you. Your hands cup his face as you slowly pull away from the kiss to look into his eyes.

He returns the eye contact whilst his hips increase in speed and power.

“Do you have other girls?” you manage to ask in between thrusts, eyes still boring into his. You’re not sure why you’re asking him this but you also can’t help but ask.

He stares you down in silence for a few moments before pulling away and straightening his back. He pulls out of you and pushes all the way back in as he holds your thighs apart.

“I have a bunch.” He starts thrusting into you with such speed that it makes your entire body jerk from the momentum, giving him a perfect view of your bouncing breasts. “How about you focus on being my favorite?”

Oh.

That’s all it takes to shut you up as he starts rubbing your clit with one thumb, trying to get you to the edge before he robs you of your orgasm again.

Not to mention the speed at which he fucks you in is borderline animalistic.

Damn. You must’ve really pissed him off.

He drills so deep into you that the sensation in your lower gut is indescribable. You subconsciously stretch out your arm, pressing your hand flat into his lower abdomen in hopes of getting him to slow down.

It means nothing to him, though.

He continues to pound into you, ignoring your hand begging for mercy as he grunts quietly. “Fuckin’ hate how beautiful you are, Angel.”

Clench.

“You like that, huh?” he huffs, one hand wrapping around the back of your thigh and the other slapping your hand away from his stomach. Gives you no choice but to take the pounding like a good girl. “Tightening around me like you’re trying to squeeze my fuckin’ dick off.”

All you can do is fight the moan that’s sliding up your esophagus as you bite into the back of your hand in hopes of swallowing your moans, eyes tightly shut to concentrate.

But he doesn’t like that.

His hand comes down on your jaw in a firm tap. “Look at me.”

You crack your eyelids open just to be blessed with the view of him and his hair sticking to his forehead from the thin layer of sweat it has produced.

“That all you got?” you taunt, referring to the soft slap he delivered to your face just now, if it even can be called that.

He stares at you with a slight squint in his eyes before he chuckles and this time, puts more force behind his slap.

Your face jerks to the side and your cheek tingles from the faint pain. It makes you clench around his shaft in pure ecstasy.

But then it all happens really fast.

He pulls out of you and in one motion, you’re on your stomach. By the time you look over your shoulder, Gameboy has positioned himself onto your ass before pushing into your gushing pussy from behind.

Lying flat on your stomach with your legs pressed together only makes him rub up against your walls even more, allowing you to feel and be able to map out all the veins and ridges on his dick.

The warmth that fans over your ear only suggests that he’s right next to your face, breathing heavily down your neck and collarbones.

“Where’d all that shit talking go?” he whispers quietly, lips pressed against the shell of your ear as his inked hand wraps around your throat from behind.

You try to answer but to no avail, the speed and power he uses to fuck you with has you sounding incoherent and absolutely stupid.

“Look at you now, all fucked out,” he adds, the shit-eating smirk present in his tone.

You slightly turn your head to be able to look at him, brows furrowed together and your mouth dropped open.

His eyes shift to your face and wander all over your desperate features before settling on your eyes again. “God,” whispers Gameboy quietly. “Gonna be the death of me, you are.”

He always knows what to say.

Every.

Single.

Time.

“Kiss me,” you manage to let out without sounding choked.

His eyes slowly drop to your round, pouty lips that shape into an ‘o’. “What’s the magic word, Angel?”

He’s so damn annoying.

“Please,” you say, without hesitation. “Please, kiss me.”

It takes no more than a second before your request has been fulfilled. His pretty lips press onto yours and he wastes no time sneaking his tongue into your mouth.

You continue to moan in desperation and pleasure, allowing him to swallow every last sound that escapes your mouth.

After several moments of kissing, it’s only then that you realize he’s no longer thrusting but instead he’s simply nestled deep inside of you and all his focus is on kissing you.

When you pull away from the kiss, it seems like he, too, realizes this. Clears his throat. Hoists himself up.

To your surprise, he yanks your ass up into the air by your hips and presses his hand flat down on your upper back to keep your face down and ass up.

With your burning face buried in the sheets, all you can focus on is your sense of touch and hearing.

A glob of saliva drops onto your pussy. He rubs it in with his dick before slapping it a few times and easing himself in again.

Your back arches from the sensation as you listen to the beautiful, quiet moans spilling from his lips. Makes you realize that his voice box deserves an award. Or a national holiday. You bet he could be famous if he intended to do anything with his voice.

But the moment is flipped onto its head when Gameboy starts thrusting into you like there’s no tomorrow. Like he’s got something to prove to the universe. Like he’s finally getting his long awaited revenge.

Which he is.

And this is precisely what you wanted when you provoked him all those times.

A loud smack rings in your ears and a sharp sting spreading through your asscheek follows right away, earning a cry from you. He spanks you again. And again. And again.

His other hand sneaks around your hip and furiously starts rubbing at your clit, involuntarily making you clench around his shaft that is forcing it’s way into you repeatedly.

“Fuck’s sake,” he grunts as he rocks his hips into yours and watches your bum recoil against him with each thrust.

The stimulation is starting to wear you out. Droplets of sweat roll down your back like shining pearls and your heart pounds in your chest like a drum at a parade.

You reach behind you to press your hand into his lower abdomen again in hopes of being granted his mercy but this time he doesn’t hesitate. He wraps his hand around your wrist and pins it against your lower back.

“Running your fucking mouth and now you think I’ll take it easy on you? Isn’t this what you wanted?” he scoffs as he uses his other hand to grip your hip to smoothly pound into you. “Shut the fuck up and take this pounding like you’re my bitch.”

Oh.

You wish you could rebuttal, you wish you could insult him, say something, anything.

But all that’s leaving your mouth are pathetic moans and cries as your stomach starts tightening and your walls start clenching around him.

“Ah, you liked that, didn’t you? So filthy.” He lets go of your hip and reaches around to start rubbing circles onto your clit again as you shiver and squirm under him. “Just how I like it.”

You can’t even for the words to tell him that you’re seconds away from cumming but it seems like he understands nonetheless because he’s simply shushing you and adding quick “I know, baby”s in a low voice.

Just when you think he’s granting you your much needed orgasm, he abruptly turns you over on your back. Before you have any idea on what’s going on, he has wiggled himself in between your thighs and entered you once again, leaving you no space to even catch your breath.

“Jay–”

“I wanna see your face when you cum,” he tells you as he reaches for your clit to help you reach your orgasm. “You’re so fucking lucky it’s like 3AM. I would’ve fucking edged you for hours on end.”

Ah. Damn it.

You quickly nod your head with your eyes focused on your sex being pummeled. “Fuck, fuck. Please,” you whimper, squirming under his frame which only makes him chuckle.

“Beg, baby,” is all he says.

Fuck.

“Please,” you say, “please, please, please.”

You don’t even know what exactly it is you’re begging for but he knows. He knows because he keeps nodding, has one hand groping your bouncing breast while the other stimulates your clit just the way you like it.

Your stomach soon tightens and it makes the words stutter in your throat. You can’t even make a coherent sentence but all he does is nod his head in understanding.

“You’re creaming all over my shit, you know that?” he groans as he stares at his own dick sliding in and out of your pussy, focusing on all the arousal you’re leaving behind on his shaft like a trail.

“Shit,” you cry as your thighs start to clench and your core starts to burst into flames. Your frame completely shudders under him. The moans and whimpers spilling from your lips are loud yet soft and the feeling is indescribable.

You tightly squeeze your eyes shut as the orgasm washes over your tired body, making you see all the celestial bodies in the universe on the back of your eyelids.

All your nerve endings are set alight and every single hair on your body stands up straight, like a soldier at attention.

His thumb on your clit never falters in speed and precision and his hand has returned to your thigh, firmly holding it in place as he fucks you through your much needed orgasm.

Your chest inflates and deflates dramatically, trying to catch your breath which constantly seems just a millisecond away every time.

He keeps going though, his stamina proving to be S tier.

Clenching all around him and finally reaching your orgasm has his hips slightly stuttering in their rhythm, his dick twitching inside of you. “Fuck. Where do you want it?”

You blink back your tears as you gather your energy to prop yourself up on your elbows. You stare straight at him as he awaits a response.

“I want it all inside.”

That’s all he needs, really.

“I’m cumming soon,” he grunts, unable to steady his heavy breathing like he has up until this point. “Pussy so fuckin’ good, Angel.”

His thrusts are sloppy and imprecise but that just makes him that much hotter. You flick your tongue up on the pad of your thumb and bring it to his nipple as you slightly tease it, rolling the erect nub around under your finger.

His breathing only gets heavier and you’re not helping his case when you continue to clench around him like you’re trying to milk him of every last drop he has to offer.

You are.

“Fuck,” is all he says before dropping his head into the crook of your neck and giving a few powerful thrusts before ropes of his warm cum shoot into you and paint your walls. A loud groan leaving his mouth is cut short when he presses his lips against yours, giving you a heated kiss as he unloads inside of you.

There’s so much cum that a good amount of it spurts out of you with every single thrust he gives you. He quietly moans against your lips when the final drop shoots out of him and straight into you, which only makes you moan back.

Fuck. You really just got creampied by the man whose guts you hate and vice versa. Sexual tension is a bitch.

He continues to kiss you, though, gentle and exhausted like he’s got nowhere to be and only wants to kiss you for hours on end.

You don’t know why but you welcome it with open arms. Wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. Tilt your head slightly to deepen the kiss.

The makeout session lasts longer than either of you expected.

Not that anyone is complaining.

Then, you two finally break apart and gasp for air.

He slowly, very slowly pulls out of you. He wraps his hand around your leg to lift it a bit higher up in the air and stares at your ruined sex with his teeth sunken into his bottom lip.

You lie there, staring at him with a quirk in your brow as he gently rubs your inner thighs with his thumb.

It’s quiet.

Really quiet.

Is the post-nut-clarity making him regret everything?

You don’t exactly know how to feel. You don’t regret it. It felt good. You haven’t felt that way in a long time.

Right when you begin to overthink, he asks, “Was I too rough on you?”

You blink at him a few times before shaking your head. “You were perfect.”

The compliment makes the corners of his lips curl up and finally makes his eyes shift to yours. You hadn’t noticed he was avoiding your gaze.

He glances at you for a few moments before springing up from the bed and sliding his sweats back onto his legs. You glare at him from across the room and watch as he exits your room.

You stare at the ceiling in silence. What just happened?

Was this a one time thing? Well, to be fair, you were planning on inviting him to stay an entire week but that was before you even knew who he was.

He’s back a few moments later with a damp towel and approaches you on your bed, gently wiping you clean of his cum. “You should go pee.”

You squint your eyes at him in suspicion but quickly let it go as he’s focused on cleaning you up. “Oh, so, you do have manners after all?”

His eyes immediately shoot up at yours and his hand comes to a halt. When he sees the bratty look on your face, he simply chuckles and shakes his head before returning his attention to your poor sex.

“Can’t fuckin’ stand you,” he mumbles but can’t seem to hide the smile threatening to creep on his lips.

It makes your own lips curl up into a soft smile. “As long as you continue to fuck me like you just did, you don’t have to be able to stand me.”

He uses a dry spot on the towel to dry your skin down a bit before glancing into your eyes. “You intend on doing this again?”

This makes you frown. Makes your heart sink into your stomach. Makes you slowly close your legs and cross your arms over your chest. You don’t know why. Is it shame? Regret? Humiliation? “You don’t?” you ask him, voice suddenly sounding small and uncertain. You hate it.

“100% but I wasn’t sure whether you’d be on board with that.” He gets up from your bed and hands you your underwear. “I thought you’d want to take out your frustrations once and then have it be done with.”

When he sees you not moving, he takes it upon himself to slide your panties onto your legs. Makes you hoist your hips off the bed. Slides them right into place.

There’s a slight pinch of relief in your chest and you deeply exhale. “No.”

He slowly nods his head and awkwardly scratches the back of his head.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him like this.

He’s pretty cute.

“Okay, well,” he mumbles as he looks around your room and picks his clothes up off the floor. “It’s really late. I’ll, uh,” he pauses, “see you tomorrow?”

You blink at him for a few moments and then quietly chuckle. “You can stay the night, you know.”

He raises his eyebrows and runs a hand through his damp hair. You hadn’t noticed how sweaty he’d gotten. “Getting a soft spot for me, are we?”

A deep chuckle rumbles in his chest when he sees the nasty glare you throw his way, along with the pillow next to your head, which he swiftly dodges. “I appreciate the sentiment but Bam’s alone and he has separation anxiety.”

Oh.

Scratch that. He’s really cute.

You can’t help but let a soft smile creep on your lips. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He nods his head absentmindedly and slowly starts backing out of your room.

“Wait,” you call out as you sit up straight. You use your sheets to cover your chest in modesty as you watch him come to a halt.

He glances at you over his shoulder, eyebrow quirked.

“You,” you pause, “you still don’t know my name.”

Silence.

He stares at you for a few more moments before chuckling. “I know your name.”

Huh?

“Wh–”

He cuts you off.

With your name.

He just said your name.

You blink in confusion a few times. Swallow thickly as you try to think of a logical reason as to how he could possibly know your name.

Did you somehow tell him and forget? Did he hear Jimin call you by name? Did he ask your landlord?

“How do you know my name?” you quietly ask, gently sucking on your bottom lip in uncertainty. He’s making you doubt your own memory.

He brings his shoulders up in an infuriatingly arrogant shrug. “We live in the same building, babe. All I had to do was look at a letter addressed to your apartment number.”

There’s no way he did that.

Did he actually go out of his way to look up your name? Didn’t he ask you what your name was earlier? Was he testing to see if you were going to lie about it?

He shrugs his shoulders with an air of nonchalance before opening the door to your bedroom. “You can call me Jungkook. Or Jay, I’m not picky.” He steps out and turns to look at you one last time. “As long as it’s my name in your mouth when you spend nights like these.”

And with that, he disappears from your line of vision but reappears in your mind like a tick that has latched itself onto your brain and refuses to leave.

Huh.

Okay. You see how it is.

And now your thoughts are clouded with everything that just happened. His hands on your skin, his lips on yours, his rough pounding on your poor nether regions. You did ask for it after all.

Every time you think about it, you want to scream. You turn your head and whimper into your pillow but every time you do, you smell him. His scent is everywhere. And as much as you hate to admit it, he smells absolutely amazing. You could bury your face in his chest and inhale it for the rest of your eternity.

Your phone buzzing on your nightstand makes you flinch and it sucks you back into reality.

You quickly turn over and reach for your phone before unlocking it and opening up the text conversation with him.

@archurback4me | 4:05AM

Goodnight Angel

And just so you know

I won’t lose to you

You hate how cheesy the smile is that creeps on your lips, internally thanking the Lord that no one is witnessing you and your big goofy smile.

You | 4:07AM

game on, gameboy

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

— enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

@mygdday @coletaehyung @btspurplesky @kaitieskidmore97 @marvelbun @nini_07777 @8514238 @llallaaa @s3l3n0phil3 @agrika @ahgasegotarmy116 @canyon-lwt @boyfriendtaekook @s4yok0 @mochminnie @chimmisbae @muah-minhoe-8 @bloopkook @whoa-jo @dreami-yoonkookie @earth2fae @kissyfacekoo @keroppitae @junecat18 @hollowtree11 @jksusawife @synnfulqt @pamzn @jknoah @jjk-jeongirl @busanstarkoo @busanboykoo @codeinebelle @taegicity @bettybloop @kookssecret @MMFranklin @vickyyy97 @suciedad-divina @jkslipppiercing @heyyolly04 @partyparty-yah @kooact @osakis-gf @luna-astro-star @plushjeno @jjk1iscoming @Heyrobitches @sunnysorasworld @raineo @jjanjankook @etaerealboyv @somehowukook @larryrulesthisfuckingworld @rrrapmonste-rr @denisaandreea20 @httpjeonlicious @jjeonjennie @dellalyra @optimisticmoongalaxy @ishizhans

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wandasgf · 9 months

Text

spoiled brat ! mdni. 18+.

pairings natasha romanoff × fem ! reader, slight carol danvers × reader

synopsis natasha can't believe you're the partner she got stuck with for the class project

content warnings college student! natasha, jealousy, mentions of violence (affectionate), alcohol, dom! top!natasha, sub!bottom!afab!reader, fingering (r receiving), reader is feminine !

wc 3.1kish

a/n: this is a repost of a fic from my old blog that i rly loved !

Natasha wouldn't say she was unimpressed when the professor started listing off the pairs for their latest project and she heard the name Y/N after her own, but she wasn't exactly happy with who her partner was either. Now, she’d never actually spoken to you before, but from what she'd heard you were the epitome of a spoiled brat.

Apparently, you're friends with Yelena’s… girlfriend? If that's what Kate was, she wasn't sure. But Yelena had told her that you and Kate make a great pair… which makes her dread the weeks to come with this project. She fakes a smile when she sees you walking over, trying not to seem so annoyed with the pairing.

But that was about two weeks ago, and after spending some time with you she can absolutely confirm that you are a brat and that you never shut up. You're such a brat, in fact, Natasha just wants to punch that pretty face of yours and have you—

“Tasha, pay attention to me.” Your whiny voice cuts through her thoughts and she blinks, looking over at you as you sit on your bed. Right, she's in your room and you're still here. “I’m trying to get some work done on the project you're supposed to be helping me with.” She says flatly, turning her head and looking at you from where she's sitting at your desk.

“You're so boring, who cares about the stupid project? Let's just go shopping or something.” You pout and Natasha curses a bit under her breath, wishes she could just shut you up for a little bit. And then she's standing up before she can stop herself and walking across the relatively large bedroom.

You grin when you see the older woman get up, “See, I knew you didn't want to do that stupid–” You're stopped mid sentence and your eyes go wide when Natasha grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks. “You've been nothing but an insufferable brat for the past two weeks and now that I'm finally getting some work done, you can't shut up for five seconds?”

Your breath catches in your throat and your cheeks heat up, and not just from the grip Natasha has on you. Has she always been this attractive? I mean, of course she has, you don't whine for just anybody's attention.

“What? Nothing to say? Are you finally going to shut up and be a good girl?” Natasha doesn't really know what she's doing, acting without thinking for sure, but her worries are pushed down when she feels a meek nod from you “Good girl.” She relaxes her grip and pats your cheek, looking down into your dazed eyes before smiling and starting to walk away.

“Wha– Where are you going?” You blink, snapping out of your dazed state when you can no longer feel the warmth from Natasha's hand on your cheek. “I’m going to work on the project, what else would I be doing? It’s due in three days, you know.” Natasha responds as if nothing happened and sits back down at the desk on the other side of the room.

“Oh.. right.” You nod, smoothing out your skirt and attempting not to seem so disappointed. You busy yourself with your phone, texting Kate and telling her to swear she won’t tell anyone about what just happened.

It’s embarrassing how Natasha is all you can think about for the next couple of days, even when Kate is talking your ear off about Yelena all you can think about is how you wish Natasha would take you on a date. Wait… You wish Natasha would take you on a date?

The realization makes the tips of your ears turn red and you almost choke on the milkshake you're drinking. You thought you were just attracted to Natasha, not interested in her romantically. And yeah, even before you got paired up for the project the older woman caught your eye, and maybe it made you a little angry when you saw some of your other classmates blatantly flirting with Natasha, but you figured that was just because you were an attention whore and wanted the attention for yourself! Not that it had anything to do with actually liking Natasha.

You groan and drop your head down onto the table dramatically. “Uh... Babe?” Your head lifts up at Kate’s words and you exhale loudly, perhaps a bit more dramatically than necessary, “I think I have a crush on Natasha.”

That is how you found herself here, at a party Yelenda was throwing in one of the skimpiest outfits you've ever worn because Kate swears she knows what Natasha likes, courtesy of asking Yelena, and ‘this will make her go crazy in the best way possible’. You've gotten a lot of attention so far this evening and none of it has been from Natasha, you're starting to think Kate was lying to you.

The short skirt barely covers your ass and all you've gotten so far were sleazy comments from the few guys that showed up to the party. Natasha barely even said hi to you when she arrived, just dismissively said she submitted the project file before walking off somewhere. You sigh, walking off to see if you can find Natasha anywhere, maybe she'll talk to you if she's cornered.

When Yelena texted her saying she had a present for her waiting at her house, the last thing Natasha expected to see was you in the shortest skirt she’s ever seen, looking like she was just begging to be bent over and—

Ah, she really shouldn’t be thinking that right now. Her favorite beer, perhaps, but not you.

She knew she would regret telling Yelena what happened, it was her fault for thinking she wouldn’t somehow meddle in things. Now, she had to avoid you for the whole night while also trying not to hurt your feelings. Great, sounds like it’ll be a fun night. And Gods, she wished she didn't care about your feelings.

It’s not like she didn’t want to see you, she did, she just didn’t know if she could control herself around you and for how long. You hadn’t seen each other since that day because Natasha just finished the rest of the project herself and put your name on it. The prof didn’t have to know Natasha did it all herself.

Right now, Natasha is standing in the kitchen talking to Yelena, beer in hand because there’s no way she’s going to make it through tonight completely sober. “Is she fucking insane?” She practically hisses, “I can practically see her ass is that. Everyone can.”

Yelena shrugs in response, “She seemed pretty excited to wear it. Maybe you should go tell her to change. Tell her it makes you jealous.” She teases, laughing at her sister who is clearly extremely infatuated with someone she previously claimed to hate.

Natasha rolls her eyes, ”Is that Kate talking to some guy over there?” She says, laughing when it immediately makes Yelena leave. She sips on the beer, leaning against the island and observing the party. Weird, she doesn’t see you anywhere.

You, in your search for Natasha, checked the main room and outside before giving up and deciding that if Natasha wanted to see you she would come find you. And about 20 minutes later you find herself making out with one of the girls from the party. Carol, you think is her name. It’s nice, but she’s just not Natasha.

This really is your worst nightmare, you can’t even kiss a pretty girl without thinking about Natasha. But maybe you could just keep going and see how it goes. Carol’s hand snakes up to caress your cheek and you immediately pull away, her hand just didn’t feel like Natasha’s, Carol's was softer and colder.

“I’m sorry–” you say, catching your breath and looking away from Carol for a moment. Your eyes go wide for a second when they immediately lock onto Natasha’s dark ones from across the room and you try to take a step back from Carol when you see Natasha walking towards you. You're quick to remember Carol had you pressed up against the wall. “I gotta go.” You squeak out, leaving behind a very confused Carol. “Call me..?” She calls out as you disappear through the backdoor.

Well, Natasha supposes the reason she couldn’t see you before is because you were hidden by Carol. She clicks her tongue at the thought of her getting to take you home, she would be making sure that doesn’t happen.

She brushes past everyone as she follows you outside, rolling her eyes when she sees your attempt to keep your skirt from flying up due to the breeze. “Y/N.” She calls out, tone stern as she watches you try to act like you hadn’t heard. She keeps walking, catching up to you enough so that she can grab your wrist and tug you back towards her. “And where do you think you’re going?”

You stumble backwards, falling into Natasha's chest. “I was just… getting a little warm in there, I needed some fresh air.” You mumble, straightening up and trying not to seem so affected by Natasha's close proximity. “Mhm?” Natasha moves her hands to rest on your exposed stomach, “I don’t know how you could get warm considering the lack of clothes you’re wearing right now.” She hums, short nails raking against your soft skin.

“Mhm...” you respond, breath getting caught in your throat at the sensation. Before you can get too caught up in how good it feels to have Natasha so close to you like this, you force yourself to consider the fact that you're outside and completely out in the open right now. “We should probably head back inside, people might be wondering where we went…” you gain enough willpower to break away from Natasha's hold and turn to face her, cheeks hot.

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, I told Yelena we might disappear and that she shouldn’t worry about it.” Natasha lies easily, starting to walk forward and forcing you to walk backwards until your back hits the side of the house. She takes in your appearance properly for the first time tonight, her gaze lingering perhaps a little too long on your lips that were slightly swollen from when you were kissing Carol.

“Natasha…” You start, voice shaky. “Oh? Full name.. Well then.” Natasha hums, “Unless, of course, you’d like to go back to that other girl. Then be my guest.” She takes a step back and you swear you hear jealousy with a hint of anger in her tone.

You gain your confidence back for just a second and you smirk a little bit, “I mean, if you don’t mind. She was a good ki—” You're cut off by Natasha's lips on yours and you reciprocate immediately, reaching up to try and wrap your arms around Natasha's shoulders, but you're stopped by the older woman pinning your hands against the house.

The kiss isn’t gentle by any means and it only makes you want Natasha that much more. A whine slips past your lips when Natasha nips at your bottom lip and you arch to try and get impossibly closer to her.

Natasha pulls away much to your dismay, “You were saying?” She cocks her head to the side, looking up at you slightly, your platform mary janes giving you a few inches on her. “Would you just shut up and kiss me?” You whine, leaning back in to capture her lips in a kiss.

Natasha smiles against your lips and it’s almost a gentle encounter for just a second. She grasps both of your wrists in one hand, keeping them pinned against the house as, with her other hand, she rakes her nails down the soft skin of your left arm, leaving angry red marks in their wake.

You shiver, trying desperately to pull your wrists from the older woman’s grip so you can tangle your fingers in Natasha's hair, grip her waist, pull her closer, anything. She just grips your wrists harder and continues her descent down your body. Her fingertips linger over your breasts just a little longer than everywhere else before she goes back to raking her nails against your skin, stopping at the top of your skirt and teasingly dipping her fingers just beneath the waistband.

Natasha pulls away from the kiss, partly to catch her breath, and starts leaving messy kisses down the column of your throat, then back up the side of your neck, her teeth nipping at your skin every once in a while. “Tasha, please.” You're just kissing and you're already so desperate for more, you'd probably be more embarrassed if you cared more, but at this current moment all you want is Natasha's hands on you and her lips against your own.

Natasha's hand slips under your shirt and she gropes at your chest, hiking your shirt up so your breasts are uncovered. The flimsy bralette you're wearing is easy enough to tug down under your breasts and Natasha moves her kisses further down until she’s wrapping her lips around one of your pert nipples, tugging at it with her teeth. She’s met with the sound of your moans as a reward and she lets your wrists down so she can use her other hand to focus attention on your other nipple.

You're quick to tangle your fingers in Natasha's hair, arching your back and pushing the older woman’s head closer. If you were any less consumed in how good it feels to have Natasha touching you, you'd be much more concerned about the fact that anyone who stepped outside could see you like this, but right now all you can focus on is Natasha's hands and mouth.

You try pushing her head down further, wanting more. “Please, Tasha.” You whine, and all you're met with is Natasha pulling away altogether. “Patience, sweetheart.” She murmurs, leaning back up and soothing you with a kiss, other hand still tugging at and rolling your nipple between her thumb and index finger.

Natasha bites down on your bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood, and pushes her tongue past your lips. You moan into the older woman’s mouth, tightening your grip in her hair. She reaches down and takes the hem of your skirt, tucking it into the waistband. She’s teasing in her touches, not slipping under your panties, fingers dancing around where you need her most. She takes her time, leaving red hot scratch marks on your inner thighs and reveling in the way you shiver in response. And then finally, finally, she slips her fingers beneath the waistband of your panties.

You gasp, still able to taste your own blood on Natasha's tongue, as you finally feel her fingers against you, teasing and light touches. You're all whimpers and whines as the older woman rubs teasing circles against your clit. You pull away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips to Natasha’s, your breathing heavy as you let your head fall back against the side of the house.

Natasha is quick to attach her lips to your throat, sucking and nipping at the skin, surely leaving a bruise. One of her hands is still groping at your chest, enjoying the noises she’s rewarded with from you. She grins when she feels your hips attempting to grind against her hand, so she stills it, letting you grind against the heel of her palm and set your own pace. “That’s a good girl.” She mumbles, scraping her teeth against your sensitive skin. She drags her fingers through your wetness and stifles her own groan.

You're desperately grinding against Natasha's palm, but it’s just not enough and you need more. It’s a little pathetic how easy it was for Natasha to rile you up like this, and you're sure you'll be teased about it later, but right now all you care about is finally having Natasha’s fingers inside of you.

“Nat, please, inside.” It comes out as a pitiful whine, but it seems Natasha is feeling particularly nice today as you feel her laugh against your neck. You moan loudly when two fingers enter you and give you no time to adjust before pounding into you. Thank god the music from the party is so loud or someone might have come outside to see what’s going on.

“This what you wanted, princess?” She asks, fingers unrelenting as she pounds into you, her thumb rubbing circles around your clit. “Mhm– oh!” You moan, high pitched, when Natasha bites down on the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, soothing it with her tongue. And in return, you dig your nails into her back, the acrylics piercing through the thin fabric of Natasha’s shirt and drawing blood. She lets out a quiet moan, fingers stuttering. Oh? You'd have to remember that for later.

You bite down on your already bloodied bottom lip to stifle your moans, back arching into Natasha's touch. It’s not long before you feel like you're going to cum, nails digging further into Natasha’s back. “Please, Tasha– I’m gonna– Please.” You whimper, not even sure what you're begging for.

“Are you gonna cum, baby?” Natasha mumbles against your neck, pulling away so she can look at your face. She speeds up her fingers and gauges your reaction, feels you tighten around her fingers. “What do you need, sweetheart?” It’s a rhetorical question because all you can respond with is a flurry of begging and pleas to cum.

A particularly hard thrust has you grasping at her shoulders and moaning loudly. “I got you, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me.” Natasha murmurs, opting for harder thrusts instead of faster.

You moan loudly as you cum, mouth hanging open and you back arching. Appreciating how Natasha lets you ride out your high before leaving you empty. “Mm, good girl.” She pulls away slightly, but still supports you with a hand on your waist. She pushes her fingers past your lips and lets you taste yourself while she uses her other hand to fix your clothes.

“I meant to tell you earlier, but your outfit really drove me crazy tonight.”

#alice's fics !#natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x y/n #natasha romanov x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanov imagine #natasha romanov x reader

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wroetojaw · 8 months

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SIDEMEN BRUTALLY RANK MORE YOUTUBERS | H. Lewis

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

summary: cozy day in with your boyfriend and watching the sidemen

tags: fluff, w2s x reader

warnings: slight cursing (not really)

a/n: instead of doing my literature essay I completed this story hope you guys enjoy!! more stories and stories about other youtubers are coming soon! ⋆｡˚

“Welcome to MoreSidemen, where the Sidemen, talk badly, about other youtubers” Simon says as the others cheer jokingly.

You giggle quietly while watching the video, leaning back into your boyfriend’s arms. Harry said you were one of the people they ranked and asked if you wanted to watch it with him. And, of course, you agreed because who wouldn’t. You watch Harry as he gets up from the couch to go get a snack.

"You look good in this video by the way," you complemented him as your eyes wandered back to the screen. "I reckon I look good in every video, don't know what you mean..." He remarked. You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him when he sat back down next to you only to be grabed by the waist and pulled closer to him.

"They are our friends, so don't take any of these seriously," Simon continues with a disclaimer, knowing how the internet would react if he didn't. "Maybe not for much longer if I get ranked last for any of the nice ones." You say, half-accusingly glaring at Harry. He puts on a guilty look and shrugs.

"Which Youtuber would you most want backing you up in a fight, we have seven people." The said seven people then popped up at the bottom of the screen. It was you, Deji, Theo Baker, Callux, Danny Aarons, Randolph, and Calfreezy. “Oh shit, it’s my girlfriend oh no,” Harry says, putting his hands in his face. The guys laugh at him and Vik says, “someone’s sleeping in the dog house tonight.” "Bro you better watch what you say."

"Who'd you want most", "Well Deji has got to be number one", "Yea Deji number one," they say in agreement. "Hey! What about me," you say, turning around to pretend to punch Harry. He ducks out of the way and says, "Come on Y/N, he's literally a professional boxer". "Yeah well...I can throw a punch too." You grumble, turning back around to face the television.

"...Theo's up there because he's pretty w..." You hear your boyfriend say in the video. "I could take him down," you mutter. "I know you could okay Y/N," he says as he kisses the top of your head. The guys continue discussing their rankings, not once mentioning you at all. "Okay now hold on a sec, because I personally think Y/N could pack a punch you know, I feel like she's got the temper enough to take a bitch down." Simon reasons with the group.

"Remind me to give Simon a big hug the next time we see him." You say gleefully, happy someone finally recognized your strength. "Yeah, I agree. I think she has the ride-or-die kind of mindset because she will fight for you and what-not, god I love her." Harry says. You look up lovingly at him and kiss his cheek.

"So we're going Deji, Theo, Danny, Lux, Y/N, Freezy, Randy," they say as they list out their rankings. "Are we sure about Freezy and Randy?" Tobi asks, to which Harry responds, "Y/N loves getting into fights so yeah..." You glare at Harry, unsure if it was a compliment or not. "You know she's actually mad strong. The other time she accidentally turned around and elbowed my stomach and it had a huge bruise for a week," Josh added. "Does that mean you're just weak then?" Simon says. The lads just laughed and before Josh even tried to defend himself, Simon already started talking about the fan's rankings.

"Randy's third? And Danny's six?" Simon says in disbelief. "No way I think Randy and Danny swap," Harry says, he looks down the lists and sees you've been ranked at sixth. "Wait no way they voted Y/N as last. Guys have you seen her during our challenges, she would take a bitch down," Harry continues. You thanked him for 'defending your honor' and gave him a big smooch on the lips.

They continued to disagree with the fan rankings, but you honestly couldn't care less anymore. Knowing that your boyfriend thought you were tough and could hold your own was enough for you. You begin to dose off as the video continues playing, hearing Harry chuckle every now and then when his friends make a joke, as he combs your hair unconsciously.

However, one of the questions you hear as you fall asleep catches your attention. "Which youtuber is the most attractive?" You sit up, curious about what would be their rankings. The rest of boys in the video look at Harry, thinking that he would instantly say his girlfriend, but boy were they wrong. "Number one Callux," Harry says immediately. You both burst out laughing as he continues to try and correct himself, in the video, realising his girlfriend was also in the list. You pretended to act offended as Harry 'apologises profusely', peppering kisses all around your face. You couldn't help but giggle at your boyfriend's adorableness.

Laying back down in your boyfriend's arms as he wraps them tightly around you, with the video playing in the background, you look up at Harry, wondering how did you get so lucky and how much you love your life.

#harry lewis x reader #w2s fic #w2s imagine #w2s #sidemen #sidemen x reader #sidemen fanfic #harry lewis #w2s x reader #harry w2s #josh bradley #simon minter #miniminter #ksi #ethan payne #tobi #vikstar

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axelsagewrites · 6 months

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Roy & Jamie*Decide

Pairing: roy x f!reader/jamie x f!reader

Kinktober Day twenty-seven: double penetration with Jamie Tartt and Roy Kent: they both like you and when they came to settle it once and for all neither of them expected this out come

Word count: 1812

Warnings: rivalry, threats, roy hating jamie, competitive sex, multiple orgasms, f! receiving oral, m! receiving oral, p in v sex, smut 18+

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

“Who the fuck keeps buzzing?” you muttered as you rushed downstairs to answer the incessant doorbell ringing. “What-oh.” You stopped yourself as you ripped open the door, “Hiya,”

Roy grunted as he pushed past, Jamie giving a nod before glaring at Roy as he followed in. “Okay then,” you said, shutting the door behind them before crossing your arms as you followed them to the living room, “And how can I help you boys?”

“You need to decide,” Roy said bluntly, a trait you usually appreciate but now was just downright confusing.

“Yeah. Me or grampa,” Jamie said earning a growl from the older man. You mentally face palmed at the two of them. See you had been friends with benefits with Jamie for a while but that all stopped when Roy had asked you out on a proper date. That date had turned into several however the whole relationship had blown up a while ago over something so trivial.

You’d insisted on taking a break from boys and dating, especially footballers, however that didn’t stop a few flirts here or there or the occasional slipping and falling into one of their beds. “How am I supposed to decide that?” you asked, arms flailing, “you’ve hardly given me any notice,”

“Well, I’m smarter,” Roy said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Jamie screwed up his face, throwing his arms to the side, “Well I’m fitter,”

“I’m taller,”

“I’m faster,”

“I’m way more romantic than this twat,”

“And I don’t make her feel like she’s cuddling a bear,”

“And I’m not some immature baby,”

“Well, I’m better in bed,”

“Like fuck you are!” Roy bellowed, looking at Jamie like he had two heads, “I have mastered my technique, you probably cum before you’ve even got your knickers off,” he spat at Jamie making you giggle. After all he wasn’t wrong about his technique.

Jamie shot you a nasty look before turning back to Roy, “I give great head, tell him,” he insisted pointing at you, but you just held your hands up, not risking getting involved, “Bet I could last longer than you grampa. You’re shooting dust now,”

Roy pushed Jamies shoulder and finally you decided to jump in before they beat the shit out of each other. “Boys! Enough,” you said, getting in between them, “Both of you are good in bed alright? Now kiss and make up,”

“No,” Roy grunted, glaring at Jamie.

“Nah fuck that,” Jamie said, “I want an answer because I know for a fact, I made you cum more than he ever did,”

“Prove it,” Roy growled when an idea sparked in your head and a grin took over your face, “What are you smiling at?” he asked, suddenly scared at the mischief on your face.

“Well, there is one way you two could ya know, settle this debate,”

Jamies head tilted as he genuinely considered the arrangement however Roy quickly barked out a fuck no. “What? You scared grampa?” Jamie asked, gently punching Roy’s chest making him growl and try step closer only to be pushed back by you.

Roy looked down at you, the same heated anger in his eye but a new spark behind, “Bed. Now. You,” he said, pointing his finger in Jamies face, “we have to talk first,”

You quickly slipped away and rushed upstairs, not wanting to possibly be a witness to Jamies gruesome murder, and headed to your room. Deciding just encase this did happen you slipped into something less comfortable and threw your other clothes, a baggy t shirt and shorts, back on.

A few minutes later you heard footsteps as you waited patiently on the bed. When they walked in you went to open your mouth, but you were soon cut off by Roy’s lips slamming onto yours. you melted into the kiss as his hands reached under your shirt, growling at the feeling of the lace against your skin.

He pulled back only to rip the shirt over your head and push you back onto the bed. “Eh not so rough,” Jamie protested but Roy turned to look at him with a smirk.

“She likes it, don’t you love?” he said, looking down at you in a way that made your mouth go dry and all you could do was nod in excitement, “See?”

Jamie rolled his eyes as he pushed in front of Roy, “Let me show you what she really likes, alright?” he said, moving to kiss your lips softly as he hovered over you. his lips were sweet and soft and soon began to kiss down your neck, then chest, then all the way down till he was kissing your inner thigh, and a shiver ran down your spine, “See?” he smirked as his fingers slipped under the waist band of your shorts, pulling them down with ease.

“Watch and learn grampa,”

“Jamie don’t wind him up-fuck,” your gasp cut you off as Jamie moved your panties to the side to kiss your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves with his tongue. For a moment you wondered if having Roy watch this was a bad idea but that soon went away when you felt his fingers teasing your hole.

You whined as he slipped two fingers in, curling them with slow precision. A warm feeling spread through your stomach as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking it gently before running his tongue over it once more. Your hips began to buck lightly but Jamies spare hand quickly moved to pin them down as his fingers began to brush against a familiar spot.

“Fuck-I-fuck,” you tried to speak, to ask if this was a good idea, but the knot in your stomach felt ready to explode as moans left your lips. As his teeth brushed your clit you couldn’t stop it anymore. Your body tensed, a loud moan leaving your mouth, as your orgasm washed over you like a ton of bricks. Jamies tongue didn’t stop however, he was determined to ride this out with you.

That was till Roy grabbed him by his collar and ripped him off of you. before you could as questions, he was flipping you onto your stomach and as his hard on hit against your ass you realised, he’d gotten rid of his trousers at some point during the show. He pulled you up onto your knees, ass proudly on display for him.

“Any prick can do that with his mouth,” Roy said, running his tip up and down your slit, making you shiver when it brushed over your already sensitive clit, “But this is even better,” he said, pushing his tip in slowly making you whine and a quiet hiss come from Roy.

You whined as he slowly sunk his thick member inside, gasping as he pushed it the final way in. “Fuck you take me so well,” Roy groaned, his hands tightening on your hips. He waited a moment, just long enough for you to adjust before he began his thrusts.

They were exact and precise and making filthy moans fall from your lips. His hand moved to slip around your hips, finding your clit and rubbing sloppy circles onto the sensitive nerves making you cry out and whine.

Your eyes screwed shut as Roy pushed your back down, deepening your arch so he could hit a new spot. A spot he had found so many times before making your walls squeeze around him. A familiar knot began to build in your stomach as your hands gripped the sheets tightly.

Your eyes opened for a moment to see Jamie stood, his eyes glued to yours and an evident bulge through his trousers. The sight of him watching in awe was enough to tip you over the edge but Roy’s thrusts did not stop for your moans or the way your body tightened as you came around his cock.

“You wanna fuck her, don’t you?” he grunted, his eyes locked on Jamie who began to stutter something out, “Do it then. Fuck her pretty little mouth,” Roy said as his hand gripped your hair, pulling your face out of the sheets, “Cmon darling don’t tease the poor boy,” he scolded, a smirk on his lips.

Jamies eyes snapped down to yours as your arms pulled you up. He stepped closer to the bed before pausing, “Are you sure- “he began to ask but you reached forward, pulling him closer by the waist band of his joggers, “Fuck it,” he mumbled, quickly fishing out his cock.

It looked painfully hard and glossy precum shone from its tip. His hand moved to cup your cheek for a moment before he guided his tip closer. You opened your mouth, sticking your tongue slightly out making Jamie groan at the sight. “Fuck,” he murmured as you took his tip in your mouth.

His hand moved to rest on the back of your hand, guiding your mouth down his shaft. Roy had slowed his thrusts as Jamie had gotten himself situated but with the sight of you taking him all in Roy began to thrust harder, making your head bob up and down on Jamies cock.

Jamie groaned loudly, his hand tightening in your hair as his tip began to hit the back of your throat. It was as if they timed their thrusts perfectly however you soon found yourself moaning as you felt your orgasm approach for the third time.

The moans vibrated down Jamies shaft, his cock twitching in your mouth as he began to moan shamelessly, his hips bucking and sending his tip further down your throat. Roy’s thrusts became harder, making your head bob further down till you felt Jamies pelvis hitting your nose and Jamies hand grip your hair tightly as curses fell from his lips.

“Oh god-I- “he gasped before you felt a salty feeling spill down your throat.

No sooner had Jamie pulled himself from your mouth did Roy pull your body up, your back flush against his chest as he continued to fuck you, now chasing his own peak as your third crashed down around you. Jamie watched in a trance as your tits began to bounce and you fall apart around Roy’s cock for a second time.

However, Roy soon began to grunt, curses falling from his lips before he couldn’t contain himself any longer, “Oh fuck-I-fuck fuck fuck,” he gasped as he spilled inside you, holding you tight against him as his orgasm washed through him.

After a moment Roy moved to help you lay down before essentially crashing on the bed beside you. Jamie moved to sit on the bed beside you, Roy on your other side, and push the hair out of your face.

You looked between the two boys as a realisation washed over you, “How the fuck am I supposed to choose after that?”

#roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent smut #roy kent imagine #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso #ted lasso smut #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt smut #jamie tartt imagine #kinktober

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jaketsparrow · 2 months

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SOMETHING... | JTK

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f! Reader

Word Count: 10.6K

Summary: When you have to say goodbye to your professor and mentor, a cocky young professor steps in, Jacob Kiskza. Literature used to be your safe place, but now you feel him getting involved in every corner; it doesn’t help that you’re his TA. You deny yourself every opportunity to fall for him until…

A/N: Hi guys :) I know it’s been forever since I’ve put something together and I apologize about that, but this is life. This one has been on my mind since the Grammy U interview and I finally had the idea to put it all together. I hope you enjoy :)

Playlist

*Also I'm so sorry I lost my tag list so if you want to be tagged here's a new form* Taglist

MINORS DNI

MENTIONS OF/ TW: Sexual content (of course), talks about death/grief, angst, swearing, Dom! Jake, restraints, possible orgasm denial, choking, alcohol use, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, ~some~ degrading, praise kink!, I’m sorry if I missed anything, but, etc, it’s filth.

The classroom was cold in the early months of the year. You had gotten in the habit of wearing your coat through the 3-hour seminar. You were lucky that this class only ran once a week, but you often had to stay longer than the students, working with the professor for a few hours afterward. He was always elusive. Always eager to get things done as fast as possible; efficient and snappy.

There was much to admire about him, but his personality often left you rolling your eyes. He always seemed a bit too sure about himself, always being the tough grader, pushing students further than they were willing to go. He cared a lot, especially about the subject matter. He still had that gusto in him to do things right, to be stern.

He was new to the program; and before this, only about a year into teaching. You studied under his predecessor. She was a kinder old woman who cared deeply for you, like your mother away from home. She taught you everything- and even got you to change majors during your sophomore year. She supplemented your reading supplies, nurtured your abilities, and was always willing to sit in deep conversation with you. Discussing the classics, introducing modern pieces, talking about life, talking about it all.

Professor Kiszka on the other hand…

When he took over for Professor Meelo, he took very little time to rip the bandaid off. When you had originally been promised a TA position in the literature department, you were expected to be under your mentor, not a cocky white man.

You spent weeks crying during winter break after first meeting him. The day you met him didn’t go exactly as you hoped. It was the week of finals when you found out Meelo was sick, and that she was stepping away from teaching. As if finals week wasn’t stressful enough, you had to come to terms with the fact that the woman who taught you everything was going to be leaving this world sooner than you would’ve thought. It was even more of a punch in the gut to walk into your introduction meeting to see… him.

3 Months Ago

The walk across campus felt heavier than usual. The winter had been harsher than it usually was in early December. The wind whipped across your bare rosy cheeks, causing freezing tears to slowly fall out of the corners of your eyes. Almost like a bad omen, the weather continued to get worse as you sludged your way across the quad.

The parking lot was nearly a mile away from campus, which was nice during the warmer months; the trees would sway across the crosswalk, blessing the sidewalk with fallen flowers and leaves. The grass was green and lively, a welcome mat onto a wonderful learning home. Between the cracks of the stone walkways, little dandelions would grow. You never understood the people who thought them to be unnecessary weeds. They were bright and yellow lively plants, and when the time of beauty passed, they passed their good wishes onto you. Blowing what once were vibrant petals into the wind. Who knew you’d miss the weeds on your walks?

Instead, now the stones were smeared with remnants of snowy footprints, broken earth that had been cracked through with the force of shovels, and the remnants of the dead earth.

Meelo called you just last week. You begged to go see her in the hospital, but she didn’t want you to worry too much. She agreed to call you every other day, just like your usual coffee arrangements. She loved them just as much as you did. She never had a husband or any children. Her students were her children, her soul was fed enough through changing lives that she didn’t want to take away that love from her students or prevent any child from feeling all of it. You were not the first to bear their soul in her office, but you might be one of the last.

Meelo begged you to go meet the new professor. You had tried to rescind your TA position, but she blocked you at every chance she got. Even while in hospice she still managed to look out for you…

“Please, sweetheart. I know it’s not easy. But he’s young, he’s smart, I think you’ll have a lot in common with him,” She pleaded through the phone.

“But he’s not you. I just, I thought… I thought I’d have more time…” Your voice trailed off.

You tried to hold the phone away from your face, trying not to distress her more with the sounds of your whimpers and tears.

Her voice started again, “You never know what you will learn from him. You have more time with me, but there comes a time when a teacher must share her students for them to learn more. If we stayed in our echo chamber together my dear I’m afraid you wouldn’t learn everything you need to know. Jacob is going to be a great professor, and I know you will learn a lot from him. His research and analysis work is quite extensive. The school and I hired him for a reason. Please. Just give it a try. For me.”

“Just for you.”

And here you were trudging through, feeling every bone in your body telling you to turn around, to go home. But you were doing this not for you, you reminded yourself. For Meelo. She was right, you latched on to her from your early years in college and favored her over all of your other professors. They were kind and nice as well, but it didn’t matter to you in the end, if they weren’t Meelo, they were never going to compare.

The building seemed colder than usual. The large glass windows were covered by their shades; no one wanted to see the gross state of life outside of the classroom. That’s hardly motivating to any student, the fluorescents would give more life than the grey state of the weather.

You pull the door open, walk through the entryway, and follow your usual path down the hallway to Meelo’s room.

The thing about old colleges, everywhere you turn is a little piece of history. Each room has housed many professors and many students. The building had life, had ghosts of its own hidden in each brick, in each stone. You felt the comfort of this presence moving through the hallway.

You stop right before Meelo’s room, catching your breath before you enter. Trying to have an open mind. Kiszka could be something, or he could just be another man throwing words at you. Not that all men were the same, but a majority of the male professors here were lackluster, favoring the male students and the athletes who needed the better grades to stay in the school. And if they favored the women… You always felt a cold chill thinking about that. Thinking about why…

One last deep breath before you enter the classroom. You grab tight onto the handle of your tote bag and strut confidently into the room.

It was empty.

The beautiful artwork and posters that Meelo had filling the room were stripped. Revealing the natural state of the architecture. It was beautiful in its own way but didn’t feel like the educational home you once felt so blessed to be in. The desks were all shoved to one side of the classroom. The previous welcoming U-shape was demolished, instead providing a cluttered destruction of Meelo’s work.

You stood awestruck in the shape of the room. There was no time wasted between Meelo leaving and Kiszka starting to make his mark on the room. The bookshelves that used to be filled in the back of the room had been emptied and their contents sat on the floor in boxes.

You walk over to the boxes, kneeling to gently sift through the carelessly placed books. This was Meelo’s library that she had collected for the classroom. Take a book, leave a book, borrow a book, bring it back. You loved visiting this wall every week, seeing what books your peers were interested in, and which books made their way into the library. Some new, and some returning after long months away.

Sitting on top of the box was the classic “Brave New World”. Aldous Huxley. 1932. Not an original copy, but a new binding. It was like the universe was sending you signs. This would be a brave new world. A world where you might have to come to terms with the fact that Meelo would not be in your life forever. A world where you might have to figure out everything with a new mentor. A world where you thought you would have years to work on your pieces with a woman who understood you, but now you would turn over your heartfelt pieces to a man. One who may not understand you the same as someone else does.

“A favorite of yours?” A voice perks up from the doorway.

You turn to see him. Your eyes work your way up his figure. He’s wearing Chelsea boots, black thick linen pants, a white loose shirt with a black vest, and a dress coat over it. His chestnut hair lays over the shoulders of the coat, and his eyes are covered by circular gold-rimmed sunglasses. He oozes mystery. His arms crossed, surveying your crouched body by the boxes. You hate to admit it, but he may be one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen.

You hold up the book towards him, displaying the cover.

“Not particularly. I don’t like thinking about the takeover of technology. It feels too real right now.” You respond.

He wanders over to you, taking his time, each step creating the most annoying echo in the emptied classroom. He reaches his hand out to yours, asking silently for the book. You hand it over to him and stand to match his level.

He passes the book between his hands, admiring the binds, “Ah, yes, but perhaps something can be learned from the book if more understood its warning… if only more read it…”

“If only…” You let the conversation trail off. Your eyes wander back to the pile of desks on the opposite wall. You feel yourself zoning out, focused only on the change of the room, not on the man in front of you.

“-Your favorite?” He asks.

You snap back to the conversation, trying to recall the beginning of his question, “I’m sorry?

“If this is not your favorite, can I ask which is?” He waves you to walk with him.

You follow him into the office at the back of the classroom. He sits in Meelo’s chair, and you sit in the chair that had held you so many times. You wouldn’t be surprised if the cushion had a you-shaped imprint in it at this point.

He asks a third time, “You don’t seem like the Jane Eyre or Louisa May student, so what is it?”

You let your bag fall off your shoulder and you try to sit up in the chair, asserting some sort of professionalism. Your answer will hold some sort of judgment for him. Although you want to be offended by his comment about the female author’s classics, he’s right. They were never your favorite.

“Tess of the D’Urbervilles. Meelo gave it to me as my first assignment.” You respond, confident in your answer.

He nods in approval, “Lovely choice, very telling. Meelo said you were very bright–one for the classics.”

He leans back in his chair, stroking his chin. His hand reaches up to the gold-rims and pulls them off, clattering onto the desk. He pulls himself towards the desk, resting his elbows on the table.

“Are you going to ask me mine?” He asks, almost presumptuously.

You fight back the urge to roll your eyes. Of course, he has to find a way to be important here. You adjust yourself in your seat, crossing your arms in the process.

“If you want me to know, why don’t you just say it?” You retort.

He chuckles to himself, “Lord of the Rings.”

Your mouth falls so far open that you’re afraid a fly might buzz its way in. You lift your hand to your mouth and try to hide your disapproval.

“That’s a classic for sure.” You reply, “Not one I would’ve expected from a college literature professor, but a classic nonetheless.”

He pushes himself off the desk, running his hands through his long locks before they make their way onto the arms of the seat.

“You don’t approve?” He scoffs.

“I didn’t say that, I just said it’s not one that I would expect.”

“I believe there is a difference between a personal and professional favorite. A favorite you could read over and over again, and you could enjoy without having to think too much about what it all means. it’s an adventure, its heroes and legends, it’s a call for relaxation and enjoyment. I’d rather have my favorite be a well-known classic than a deep thought-provoking story about purity.”

You fight every urge in you to slap the man sitting before you for disgracing such a beautiful novel. But you think about Meelo. You think about stepping outside of the echo chamber.

“I think we may have different opinions on favorites, Professor Kiszka.” You say shortly.

You feel the tension grow between you already. This would be a difficult semester. Even more difficult because as you felt your dislike for him grow, you couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful man sitting in front of you. His brown eyes stared deep into you, trying to assess his new assistant. You tried not to let him in too far. You were not fawning for him, at least you weren’t trying to. You wanted to fight off the growing warmth crying to spread through you. It was like seeing a handsome stranger in the bar; you knew the danger, but almost didn’t want to let yourself protect your heart.

He was by far the youngest professor here, and the most eligible. No ring was on his finger.

“Please, call me Jacob.”

You stood up from your seat, throwing your bag over your shoulder. You try to compose yourself enough not to let any distaste escape from your lips.

“Sorry, Professor Kiszka, I have finals I need to finish, it was a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to working with you in January. If you need anything from me before then, I believe the dean gave you my information.”

You reach your hand out awkwardly, trying to invite a handshake. He cautiously reaches his hand back, pulling you into a firm, but still gentle handshake.

His eyes meet yours. The deep brown staring into you. Although you should have the power from your standing position, you knew he held all the cards from his seat. The handshake lingered longer than you had expected, both of you locked deep into staring each other down. He finally releases his hand.

“It was a pleasure.” You start to leave the office, but he makes one last remark, “Oh, one last thing…”

You turn to face him, “Yes professor?”

He reaches into the desk and pulls out a cloth-bound book, handing it to you. You slowly return to the desk, taking the book from his hand—the Lord of the Rings.

“Try it for me? You do have a whole winter break…”

You rub your hands over the cover, smiling at his request. You place the book back in his hand.

“I used to read it as a child. No need to give it a try when you’ve read it four times already.” You smile at him.

Even if it wasn’t your favorite, didn’t mean it wasn’t a favorite.

Present

In some ways, your relationship with him felt like a love-lost marriage. Just moving through the motions. You sat in on the classes and took note of who engaged, and who didn’t. You graded assignments, tests, and papers, with him always double-checking and doubting your work. You didn’t sit in on long conversations with him like Meelo. Perhaps some of that was your fault, always quick to get to work. He adjusted to you quickly, understanding how you needed to work, and letting you grieve.

Meelo passed quickly into the semester. You cried once in front of him when the news broke. You nearly snapped his head off when he asked if he could help you. From that moment on he took on this cold persona, but you don’t blame him at all. You knew in your heart that you would not have the same connection with him as Meelo, so it was easier to never try.

Through everything, your work never faltered, and your school work remained the priority. Perhaps it was a way to hide through all the pain but the calculated steps it took to grade provided a soothing rhythm amongst the distress.

You never failed to notice all the times you caught him catching glances at you. You were silly to think that it meant anything more than just a quick look, but still maybe somewhere in your heart, you had hoped that maybe he was thinking of you more than his assistant. For weeks you watched him stroll into class, always wearing a disheveled but somehow put-together outfit. You loved seeing how he would piece together different clothes from his collection. Never repeating an exact outfit, but always finding new ways to repurpose the same items.

One day he walked in with a new addition to his look, a cluster of pendants on a necklace. They looked older, more worn in than any new silver. You asked him about it briefly, trying not to engage in a further conversation.

“They’re coins, Spanish coins, designed after ones from the 1600s. I think the jeweler lied to me when he said they were originals, but they still look okay… Do you think so?

“You look like a pirate.” You responded.

A sexy pirate. You shoved that thought deep into the back of your mind. Holding on to it, because you didn’t want to forget how good he looked.

His Thursday classes were always one of the better ones. This was one that you had to take yourself for your graduate program. There was no TA’ing involved as that would be a huge conflict of interest if you got to grade your papers. You chose to sit in the back corner of the class by the window, in hopes that when spring rolls around you could watch the foliage return. The unfortunate thing about this choice was the waiting. February was colder than you had expected and the windows provided no warmth.

When you were TA’ing you got to sit at the edge of the office and the classroom. Kiszka brought a space heater for you to place at the doorway. He joked he didn’t need his assistant ‘freezing to death’, because then ‘who would grade the papers’.

You tried your hardest to not let him favor you, but you knew he was someone who would be kind no matter how much you asked him to stop. He would leave books on the edge of his desk for you to read and when you tried to return them he declined and told you he already had a copy in his collection. You doubted that and always protested in fear that you thought you might lead him on. But in the end, it was always you walking out with a new book in your bag.

He was trying his hardest to get along with you. Some days it was easier and you would entertain his questions, but other days it was easier to be quick and move along. This relationship was not going to be a fairytale. You had already found your soulmate once, and you lost her. In your mind, there was no more room in your heart to let someone in. And why should you prepare space for someone if you truly don’t know if they want to be there?

This class although interesting became boring as the weeks went on. The class had fallen into a seasonal depression of sorts. Many like you had expected to have Meelo for the semester when you had booked your classes, so when Kiszka showed up and tried to shake things up… It wasn’t easy. He was skilled and smart, sure… But not the same. He craved involvement and wanted the class to join in with him, but often would push people further than they were willing to go. A room full of mid-20-year-olds was truly a space of burnout. Many of these students had already passed four, sometimes five years of school before they stepped into this class. They no longer have that lively interest in reading and analyzing literature but want to create their own.

“-And what was this author trying to convey through his use of metaphors?...” He asked from his commanding space at the front of the class, “No one?... No one picked up on this…? Or are you too scared to be wrong?”

Your attempts at fighting off eye-rolls also subsided the longer this course went on, and this roll came on hard. You’ve heard this line countless times through multiple classes. He wasn’t wrong, but he could at least find different ways to say the statement.

“Y/N? Care to enlighten everyone?” He calls to you, in need of saving the class who had lost attention nearly an hour ago.

“Sure. It’s a metaphor for how women are treated in society.” You answer.

He grits his teeth and sighs, “Not quite, but you’re close…”

You lift yourself from your slump, “No, that’s right. She is clearly trying to convey the expectations of women in society and how we are treated. As a female author, she leaves these metaphors to be very simple for female readers to understand. For males, it’s harder to grasp that the severity of these situations could imply the treatment of women, but that’s what she’s trying to explain.”

He clasps his hands together giving them a brief shake, “That class, that is how you analyze. Literature can be read in different ways by different readers. The author may have a clear intention of what they are trying to write, but others may be able to relate it to other aspects of their life. I have my own interpretation, and you all may have others. That is how this should be working. There is nothing wrong, with how you analyze, just that you have the knowledge to back it up…”

Every time you tried to make him out to be the bad guy, he ended up being in the right. You hated how smart he was. You hated how much you wanted to watch him while he stood up there. You hated how he wasn’t her. But you knew you didn’t want him to leave.

“So with that,” He continues, “Finish up the last few chapters and please come prepared with statements next week about your findings. I want you to dig deep; feel the author. I’ll see you next week.”

The class starts their shuffle for the door, while you meander to your usual spot at the doorway of the office. The next class wouldn’t be in for 20 minutes, but you would at least have time to warm up.

You click on the heater and walk over to Kiszka’s rolling desk chair. You take your coat off and rest it over the seat, pushing it over to the door. Kiszka finds his seat at the front of the classroom, pulling out his book of the week. He usually would try to follow you, asking you what you were reading, then the next day showing up to class with an identical copy. It was annoying and endearing how much he wanted to learn from you. You wondered if it upset him that you weren’t as keen on learning from him.

He confided in you that Meelo was an idol of his as well, and although he didn’t get to learn from her, he was going to try to through you.

You pull your copy of Anna Karenina from your bag and join him. Your chapters ahead of him, but you enjoy being one step in front of him.

You peep up from the back of the room, “I didn’t ask, but please tell me this isn’t your first time reading this.”

He lifts his head from the book slightly, eyes still skimming the page, “Third.”

You sigh in relief. That would’ve been embarrassing; for him.

You return to the book. You’re finding it harder to dive in today than usual, something is different… You see out of the corner of your eye that Kiszka has put down the book altogether, and you can sense him staring. This lasts a few moments, but you try to remain focused on the words, but catching yourself having to re-read the paragraphs; not processing the sentences you’ve already read.

A minute goes by and he hasn’t returned to his pages. Instead, you hear the squeak of his chair rolling over to his computer. A few clicks and a frenzy of taps on the keyboard.

“Hey.” He prods.

You look up again from the book. He peers at you over the edge of his computer and then closes it so he can see you better. He grasps his jaw lightly, stroking it in his hands.

“Yes?” You asked, trying not to seem annoyed by the interruption.

“Let’s go over your manuscript. I want to see it.” He continues.

No. It’s not time yet. You’ve been meticulously editing it for months now. He wasn’t supposed to read it until midterms, you were supposed to have more time…

You drop the book into your lap, “It’s not ready…” You close the book, “Also we have class in twenty minutes, you won’t be able to read it all by then.”

He stands up from his seat, straightening his vest out, “I canceled class. Pull it out.”

Two Hours Later

Some time had passed. You both sat in his office now. Him at… his… desk, and you still positioned by the heater at the door. At this point you were warm enough to finally take your sweater off, stripping down to a simple black t-shirt. You saw him staring through the pages when you pulled the sweater off. If he had looked any harder you think he might burn a hole through the book.

The office was silent except for the occasional click and clack of the heater, and the flickering of the candle on his desk. He flipped through the lightly bound pages while you continued through your reading. Every couple of minutes you could hear the stroke of his red pen hit the pages. The words or corrections will wait for you later. You could sit and scoff at them later in your apartment. The man said his favorite book was Lord of the Rings, how could you possibly trust his editorial judgment?

You had made it about a hundred or so pages through your book, which was slower than you would’ve liked. You still couldn’t breach the interferences. You thought the silence would help, but hearing his hums, his pen strokes, the occasional sip of scotch… It was all a distraction.

You couldn’t stop looking up from the book to watch him slyly admire your work. You knew your writing was good; Meelo had seen the early stages of it all. She heard the direction and loved every word… A complete sadness rushed over you thinking of how she would never see the final product.

Kiszka would adjust himself every few minutes; switching positions in his seat. You wanted to trust yourself enough not to look every time he shifted his hips, but those linen pants he loved so much left little to wonder about him. You had a closeness to him that you didn’t want to admit. As many differences as there were between you, there were just as many similarities. He was an outsider here; you could see that clearly. The other professors didn’t trust him because of his age- the students tried to walk all over him because of that too.

Even though you wanted to hate how pretentious he seemed, deep down you knew it was a facade to seem more studious to others. You saw the real him in glimpses. The kindness he offered to you that many others most likely wouldn’t have. Your youth and love for literature matched his perfectly, although you couldn’t always find the way to express it correctly. Your loyalty to Meelo prevented that at every chance.

Letting him read this manuscript was a big step that you didn’t fully even realize until he had reached the halfway point. You wanted to go and rip the pages out of his hand, throw them out the window, prevent him from seeing you too deeply… But something inside you needed to know what he thought of it.

Frustrated by your lack of progress, you lowered the book into your lap. You took this time to look around the room. It had changed so much since you had seen it back in December. Kiszka’s library had taken up the room, along with his record collection. When you would come by early in the morning to drop off the graded work, you would hear him playing some of it. Blues, rock, the classics. You never disturbed him during these times, it felt too intimate to interrupt. Instead, you would place the binder of essays on his classroom desk and scurry away before he could come to say hello.

You place your bookmark into the page opening. You calmly stand and place the book where you once sat. Quietly, you make your way over to his collection.

You see him peer up through the pages. Curious about your movements, watching you silently behind the manuscript.

You lower yourself to the floor, sifting through the jackets of the vinyls. Alphabetical. Of course. You make your way quickly through the a’s and land through the b’s. As cliche as it seems, you truly love Abbey Road, and of course, there it is front and center with the other Beatles albums. You pull it out from the shelf, removing the jacket carefully from the sleeve. You lift the vinyl out and place it on the record player. It’s a modern one, which feels very out of character for Kiszka. He always seemed like the type to randomly have every item of his be nothing newer than 20 years old.

You press play and lower the needle onto the music.

Come Together plays softly through the speakers. You turn to look back at him, seeing if there is any protest. Instead, he has the red pen out, slashing across the paper. You grit your teeth and try not to engage. You return to his collection, running your fingers along the remainder of the vinyl. The plastic tickles through your fingers, creating a click, click sound as each jacket releases from your hold.

Although you did want Kiszka to keep reading, you felt it was necessary to distract him, to try and persuade him to step away…

You continue from the vinyl collection, traipsing through the room. It’s like a library out of a movie, truly. You admired his office deeply and loved to gaze at it while he was lecturing. Sometimes when he was deep in his philosophy of literature speeches, you would lean back in the chair and try to read the book titles from afar. Your eyesight was good, but not good enough to make out the exact names of all of them. You never dared to peruse like this before, but this moment presented the perfect opportunity.

You were his captive for the remainder of his reading. Well… In all reality, you didn’t have to be here, but you didn’t dare leave that manuscript alone. It had been stored with you in your tote for the past month. You tried to take chunks of edits at a time, working through it yourself when you had time but didn’t want to share it with anyone until you felt that it was complete.

You tried to fight Kiszka off, but the notion of him canceling class meant that he found taking the time to do this very important…

The books that were displayed on these shelves were not the type of books that you would find at your local bookstore. They were older, worn in, some of them originals, even some you haven’t read yet. Maybe he did have some things that he could show you…

You make your way to the last set of bookshelves, rounding the back corner of the office. The last edge of the wall had his makeshift bar.

The liquor was all dark, amber-colored. Very manly, you thought to yourself. Bottles of whiskey and scotch lined the makeshift bar. Jack Daniels, Sazerac Rye, Macallan Double Cask… You recognized some of the labels.

Kiszka crept up behind you, “If you wanted a glass, you could’ve asked.”

He reaches down below you to fetch a rocks glass from the bar. He grabs the Macallan Double Cask and pours a finger for you. The alcohol flows effortlessly out of the bottle, barely splashing into the glass. He hands the glass to you, your hand brushing his. His touch is warm… Kind. He takes his other hand and grabs your shoulder, in a comforting way. You want to seem completely normal, but feel your cheeks getting rosy from the touch. You suck on your bottom lip and try to hide your face.

You take a large swig of the scotch, trying to be mindful of not wasting such a good drink. He looks at you, shocked at your ability to take it so easily.

“Wow. Good.” Is the only words he can mutter.

You smile meekly. The praise makes you feel undoubtedly shyer than you had just before.

“Are these originals?” You ask, pointing to the corner section of his library, “I couldn’t tell, and didn’t want to touch them if they were.”

“Many of them, yes,” He responds, “I trust that you would be gentle with them, please, which one were you curious about?”

You make your way over to the shelf, placing your drink down on the small table near the corner. You reach up to fold out the red bound book. Its title was completely faded from the binding, but we’re curious as to which one it was. He follows closely behind you, close enough to almost be on you.

He laughs, “Funny you should grab that..”

You open the cover to find Lord of the Rings printed in big black letters.

“Oh, dear god.” You sigh.

“It is an original if that makes you feel any better about it. I know you hate this book, but still-”

“No, no,” You protest, “I never said I hated it, I just said it wasn’t my favorite. Remember we have different opinions on that professor.”

He scoffs and takes the book from your hand. Rubbing the cloth binding with his thumbs.

“Want to know something funny?” He questions.

You did. You really did. You wanted the connection at this moment… For whatever cosmic reason it finally felt okay to banter with him. You nod your head, approving him to continue.

“I saw the movies before I read the books.” He laughs, “My brothers and I loved it, we were practically obsessed, but I was younger then and a stupid boy who didn’t read like I do now. Not the fairytale way most people find their favorite but it reminds me of childhood…”

You wanted to laugh, you wanted to make fun of him for it. But you knew that this was a special moment for him. A look into his past, a presentation for more. He places the book carefully back on the shelf, tucking it back into its spot.

“Well, I guess that makes more sense now. But, as a graduate professor, you ought to just say you like the pretentious shit. No one’s going to take you seriously.”

He turns from the shelf, “Who said I was worried about that? If I lie then I am a fraud. I don’t care if anyone says that.”

Oh fuck. His confidence is so intoxicating. He’s right. Why should he care?

“I just- I meant… I thought that the other professors-”

“You thought that they don’t take me seriously? Right. They don’t. In schools like this, you have to earn respect. I’m not an alumnus, I didn’t go to Harvard, but I do a damn good job at what I do. As much as you may protest some of my teaching, I know what I’m doing.”

He breezes past you and strolls back over to the bar to pour himself another drink. You reach back for yours and hold it between your hands, trying to collect yourself. You hope that you didn’t hurt him.

“Did I offend you?” You ask.

“‘Course not,” He takes a swig, “I just wish you would realize that it doesn’t matter what standards others hold you to. You are not someone else. You are you.”

“I know that.” You respond dryly. Your answer didn’t sound as confident as you wanted it to be. It came out unsure and desperate.

“Then why has your whole academic career been based on your relationship with one woman? Why must everything you do be for her?...”

You stand there silently. Completely struck with emotions. Anger, sadness, discouragement.

“She… She made me who I am,” You pipe, “She’s the reason I am in this program.”

He strolls back over to you, locking your eyes with his. It’s intimidating, this look he has on his face. He’s studying you, seeing how lost you feel. Truly for the first time you couldn’t even try to put up any walls. He had broken you down.

He places his hand on your shoulder again, “Can I show you something?” He asks.

Before you have time to even object to him, his hand moves from your shoulder to your waist, guiding you back towards his desk. You feel butterflies growing inside you.

No. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He is your advisor. He is not someone you should feel this way about. He’s trying to help you, he’s not interested in you.

The vinyl finishes its song and moves on to Something. He guides you into his seat. You place the glass down on the desk and wipe the condensation from your hands onto your thighs. He reaches over the desk and twirls the manuscript back in front of you. The pages sit open about two-thirds of the way through. He stands behind you, practically leaning on your back. His chest rests against your shoulder, pointing at the beginning of the page.

“See this paragraph here?” He questions.

You strain so hard to not melt at his touch. His hair is grazing your cheek. It smells wonderful, but you can’t admit that. He has this gentle but clean musk about him. He smells like a perfectly cared-for bookstore. A soft smell of tobacco and oak. The chains with pendants are draping over his neck, sparkling in the moonlight of the night, softly clanking together with his movement

You need to focus.

You respond, afraid that you waited too long, “Yes?” Your voice wavers, the lack of confidence creeping back through, “Is there something wrong with it?”

He turns to face you, “Yes. I have a big problem with it.”

You feel your heart sink. What could be wrong with it? The back half of the book is the best part, it is the part you feel most confident with. You feel confused. All of those walls and confidence you felt once in his presence were lost.

“What…? What problem?”

You look back at the pages, disregarding his closeness to you, pulling the bundle of paper back towards you, and flipping through to the previous pages. He puts his hand on yours, stopping you from searching. He lowers himself next to the seat, squatting to be at your eye level. His thumb wanders back and forth over your wrist.

He smiles a crooked and cunning smile, “It’s some of the best writing I’ve seen in years, and the author was too scared to even share it with anyone. She lost someone and had to do this all on her own. That’s terrifying, but it’s still her work. ”

You look at the hand holding yours. It’s strong but has a softness to it. It has a few rings sitting on them, but none a wedding band. You lower your head and release your wrist, grabbing it with your other hand. You sigh heavily and grasp your hands in front of the pages. Your hands travel up to hide your face, which presents a melancholic smile that you can’t let go of. You can’t tell if it’s the liquor or his presence, but you feel a glow coming from inside.

You rush your hands past your face and through your hair, resting your hands on the back of your neck. Scoffing, you turn to look at him. His amused smile is irresistible.

“You,” He starts, “Are an amazing writer.” His hand lifts from the pages and reaches up towards your cheek, holding your face in his palm, “And no matter who your teacher is, you can still do it on your own.”

Your hand finds its way up to his arm, holding him back. Staring longingly at each other. Both deep down knowing that this was about to lead down a path you couldn’t return from.

“Professor-” You initiate.

“Jacob.” He replies.

“Fine… Jacob. This- I… I don’t think.”

He quickly removes his hand from your face and comes to his senses. “Oh, dear, um… I’m so sorry y/n… I…”

You let yourself slump in the seat. How could you? How could you squander that moment? After years of wishing to find a man who was at least half as interested in literature as you… Here you are throwing it away. But you could be right to do so. He was your professor, you were his assistant, the moral implications of this all…

Jacob stands and leans back onto the desk, stroking his chin, concerned. Thinking about it all. You can see the nerves climbing through him. He feels embarrassed.

You reach your hand up to your face again, burying your emotions into your skin.

“I just thought- I, fuck.” He continues, “I thought we were turning a corner, I was looking and I thought I saw you-”

“You did.” You respond, “...I was looking.”

You lower your hand from your face to stare back at him. You put the manuscript back on the desk and stand.

“You… You were?” He searches for the answer.

“Jacob… For months I have looked. I didn’t want to like you. I didn’t want to admit that to myself. My mentor was my heart and soul, she was everything to me. I didn’t want to give you any chances because I didn’t want to lose someone like that again… I can’t handle that heartbreak. But…” You trail off.

“But?” He inquires.

You reach for the scotch glass and swirl the liquid around. Staring deep into the stormy amber.

“Fuck it.” You take the last of the scotch into your mouth and turn back to Jacob, “You… You are what I’ve wanted. I can’t deny the way I feel when it’s just us. When I see you deep in thought, when you push me to go further; when you challenge me. When we’re alone, and I see you for the man you are. When I see how genuinely fucking amazing you are. And I’m so mad at myself for not opening myself to you.”

Jacob peels himself off the desk and stances himself in front of you. He grabs your hands and holds them tenderly in his. You drop your head, your hair falling over your frustrated expression.

“You were grieving, you wouldn’t have been ready for this.” He reaches his hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

You look up to him with doe eyes. He was the older man, coming in for the prey. You wanted to be his. You wanted to have him. You wanted it. You denied it for months. You denied it from the moment you saw him. You denied yourself to knowing him in fear that this exact moment would happen. But here you were. Unveiling yourself to him in the very place you felt the first attraction.

“I want to be ready. No, I am ready. I want this. I can’t deny myself happiness because of everything that happened,” You said.

“Are you sure?” He asked. Trying to test you.

You nod your head in approval, trying once again to keep the emotions bottled in.

“I don’t want you to feel any pressure because-”

“Please don’t say it. I know. I know this is all morally fucked up, but I’m an adult, you’re an adult. Just treat me like one.”

He smiles, admiring your maturity, “If you want to do this, there are some things we have to settle first.”

You look up at him confused, “Things? What things?”

“More like rules,” He answers, titling his head playfully, “I need to know what you’re comfortable with. I don’t want to scare you even more than you already seem.”

He returns his hand to hold your face, just like he previously had only moments before.

“I’m not scared Jacob. What rules?”

“As much as I like to be gentle with women, I also enjoy being rough.” He says through a velvety tone

You jolt back, at first fearful of his words, but relax quickly, reminding yourself you don’t need to be scared.

“How rough are we talking…” You prod.

The cunning smile returns across his face, “Don’t worry, I don’t leave marks, at least too bad of marks… And only rough enough that you’ll still be wanting more by the time we’re done.”

You bite your lip at the thought. You’re no virgin at this point in your life, but you’ve never been able to explore this type of intimacy. Every man in college is practically an amateur at pleasuring women and even more so when it comes to exploration in sex. You’ve read plenty of books to know about the type of sex he was talking about. As much as you enjoyed the classics and the light-hearted romance, you still found yourself picking up a steamier romance book in private.

You wanted that. Had practically dreamed about it before…

Being here with this man, who was only a few years your senior, felt like you could practice this fantasy safely. He knew what he was doing, he could show you pleasures you didn’t even know you could enjoy. Even if you felt like you couldn’t learn more from your education with him, perhaps there were other things he could teach you. It was all becoming a bit too exciting.

His hand moves slowly down from your cheek to your waist. His palms gently grazed your spine until they locked in on your love handles.

“So,” He continues, “Are you going to be my good girl? Can you be good for me? Do you think you can take it?”

You reach out to his chest, moving aside his shirt which had barely been buttoned. With one swipe down his sternum, you unlatched all of them revealing his smooth golden skin. He watched you intently, seeing you explore his skin like never before. You traced your fingers along the opening, feeling your need to reach more grow. With each second that passed you felt the insatiable thirst to be close to him; to feel him. His grip on your waist tightened with each pass you made over his chest.

His other hand joined him on your opposite side. You feared that your hips may break with his excited hold. You looked up at him, biting your lip, trying to remain coy. That soft smile appeared on his lips; you had answered with your body language.

He pushes his hands further into you and lifts you onto the desk, your ass barely resting on the edge of the wood.

“Words,” He said, pulling himself closer into you, resting perfectly between your legs, “Nothing’s going to happen until you tell me you want it to. This isn’t going to work sweetheart unless you use your words.”

“Jacob-” Are the only breathy words that you can mutter.

You can feel him growing, feel the linen pants barely holding back his excitement. You feel your heartbeat travel from your chest, down into your stomach, into your…

His hand moves up to your jaw, holding it firmly in his grip, “Y/N, follow the instructions. Words. I’m not going to wait much longer.”

“Yes-”

Before you can even finish he’s pulling you into an embrace. Your lips meet his. The soft taste of scotch remaining on both of you created an intoxicating addicting feeling. It was complete passion, complete neediness to be one. His tongue introduces itself into your mouth… Soft, wet. Beckoning. The noises you both are making sound feral, completely unusual for the both of you. What once was a prim and proper relationship between you became a fervent desperation to touch… To fuck.

His hands traveled down your body, first reaching your chest, grasping you completely in his hand. Rolling his palms over the front of your breasts, driving you completely mad. You wished the barriers of clothing had been completely stripped away, but he was too hungry to even keep you waiting for long. His hands reached under your shirt, plowing underneath the wire of your bra to find your naked breasts. A soft relieving moan escaped your lips through the breaths of the kissing.

You reached your hands out to find the remainder of the buttons of his vest closing you off to his body. You made quick work of unbuttoning them, reaching your hands across his midsection; climbing to his back. Reaching up towards his shoulders, feeling the softness of his skin across the pads of your fingers. God, he was perfect.

His fingers traveled to your nipples, running his thumb and forefinger over the bud of your nipples. Before you could even realize what you were doing, your nails dragged down his back, raking into his skin. He paused the kissing for a moment to let out a moaning growl. He slid his hands out from your bra, slipping down to the edges of your shirt, attempting to tug it off as fast as he could. You snatched your hands out of his shirt to raise them over your head, giving him complete access to strip you.

He placed his hand between your breasts and forced you down onto the desk, your head falling onto the manuscript below you. He shook off his vest and was quick to pull his shirt off.

“Seems like I’m not the only one who likes it rough, huh?” He asked.

You lifted your head from the desk, “No, definitely not.” You responded. Unsure where this untamed version of you had even come from.

“No, sir” He stated, pushing you back down.

“What?” You asked, skeptical of what he meant.

He mounted himself once again between your legs, grinding himself into you. He traced his finger down your neck, to the waistline of your pants.

“Sir… That’s what my good girls going to call me, okay?”

You rolled your eyes, unaware that you were even doing so, “Call me Jacob,” you mock, “Call me sir.”

He reached back up to your jaw, pushing his thumb into your cheek, “If you’re going to be a brat we’re going to need to set some more rules. Good girls don’t get punished, but you’re already testing me.”

Completely stunned, you look back at him trying to emulate a softness, an apology. You had to admit though, you weren’t scared of him… If anything you were more turned on by the thought of his punishments.

“And how would you punish me, sir?” You ask in your best sultry voice.

He let out a low grumbling laugh. He studied your body, not even acknowledging your question, just thinking… Thinking of what he would do to you. He grabbed onto your hips and pulled you hard into his cock. There was no wondering anymore. You could feel how large he was, how excited he was. If your own body wasn’t blocking it you could probably see it entirely.

“Maybe,” He starts, “Maybe you’re not going to be my good girl,” His hands dig deeper into your waist, “Maybe, you’re going to be my little slut.”

The word echoed through the room. It sent a shiver down your spine, but not the feeling of being displeased, it was a feeling of being right. Being here with him, being under his control, felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders. He could see you in a way that someone hasn’t seen you for months. He was learning every inch of you and would learn even more as the night went on.

He leaned down from his high position to plant gentle kisses along your neck. Gingerly leaving behind little reminders of passion.

“-And if you’re going to be my slut,” He whines through breathy kisses, “you need to know the safe words.”

You run your hands up to his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingers. Tracing his scalp over your fingertips. You don’t want to go this slow, the breaks are killing you. You just want to feel him. You want to feel him on you, in you, taking you completely as his own.

His kisses finally reach the band of your jeans, but that doesnt stop him from exploring further. He pulls down on the jeans to reveal more of your stomach, delivering gentle almost tickling kisses.

“Green,” He whispers, “Means you like it… You don’t want me to stop.”

His hand travels over to the button of your jeans, popping the metal away from the denim. Your eyes follow him, watching his hair fall over your stomach, the metal of his necklace chilling your bare skin. His shoulders look strong here, masculine, powerful. Watching him focus so intently on you is killing you. This is a man unlike any other that you’ve been with, he’s focused on treating you first, even if there were some other pleasures in it for him.

“Yellow,” The zipper slowly starts to unravel as he pulls your pants further down, “Means you need me to slow down… If you need a break…”

Your pants steadily fall off of your legs, finally being exposed to him entirely until they fall onto the floor. The only thing separating you from him now is your thong. Which you are now praising yourself for wearing today. He resumes his consuming kisses across your midsection, joining back down where he had left off. His hands slip underneath him to grab the edges of the lace, sliding off the thong with ease.

His kisses start to graze you closer to your…

He stops and lifts himself. His hand leads up to your mouth, putting his pointer and middle finger into your mouth. You accept them, excited for what it means.

“Red.” His voice develops a more serious tone, “Means stop.”

He removes his now slick fingers from your mouth, returning them down below. His fingers reach your cunt, and you welcome him with excitement of your own. Your body is in shambles waiting, wanting to know what it feels like. His fingers dance across your aching clit, his thumb padding the bundle of nerves, sending shockwaves through your deprived body. A loud distressed moan escapes you, you can’t help but express your enthusiasm.

“Don’t worry sir,” You shudder through achy moans, “I don’t think I’ll need to use that one.”

“Good girl.”

Without any hesitation his fingers breach you, filling you up. He stands over you, watching you grow with the agony of pleasure. Your breath hitches with each pump, your back arching with each lift of his fingers. His thumb traces back over your clit, stimulating every inch of you.

Every attempt at communicating the feeling faulters, except for, “Oh fuck-”

Your body is shaking with each movement. He’s painting the perfect picture of an orgasm with just one hand. The power he holds, the knowledge he has. He knew how to please you better than you knew how to.

His free hand makes its way around your neck, gripping it, holding you in place so he can work harder at you. You’ve never been choked before, it’s a completely new sensation. The gasps for air were something you thought you’d fear, but instead, you were wishing he’d hold on harder.

“Green?” He asks, looking for permission.

You nodded your head ferociously

You feel yourself completely letting go under his control, something you feared once to let him have all the power. But here, now, held down to his desk… You never wanted it to stop.

“Words.” He barked.

Your hand reaches up to hold his wrist, “Yes, yes…”

“Yes, what?” He asks again, his fingers slowing their movement. Clearly, he wouldn’t be letting you get away with anything. You had to be obedient and do as he told you.

“Yes… Please, Sir,” You beg.

The words were getting harder to communicate. If he could finger you into oblivion, you might let him if it meant you could feel this good again.

He smiled in approval and resumed his previous pace. Steadily building faster, and faster. Harder and harder. You could feel how wet you were becoming, it really didn’t take much for him to draw the excitement out of you. The swirls of his fingers and the vigor of his motions were precise… Calculated, trying to accomplish only one mission; and he was close to succeeding.

Your moaning only got more frequent and louder, you couldn’t hold back. The pleasure was far too great to stay quiet. He almost let you be loud too, only for a few moments before reminding you of your location. He lifted his hand off your neck to lift a single finger to his lips and then pointed around the room.

“If my good girl can’t stay quiet, I’ll have to make her. We don’t want anyone spoiling all the fun.”

You nod your head, remembering you were still in his office. Your surroundings had escaped you completely; only thinking of him and you.

His thumb started to apply more pressure, practically begging for you for more. A softer moan forced its way out, helpless to be silenced. His hand plasters itself over your mouth, holding you silent. The pads of his fingers resting deep into your cheeks.

“I know baby, it’s so hard… You’re gonna be so good and come for me now, okay?”

Finally being relieved of speaking, you nod your head, ready for the climax. His fingers dive upward, grazing the sweet spot buried inside of you. The pressure, the sensation it’s all too much. You feel your belly tighten, your back arching. He’s trying to hold you steady as you writhe in pleasure. There’s no stopping anything now.

“Do it baby, come on… Be a good little slut for me…”

Your eyes roll deep back into your head. You feel the sweet sensation of release wash over you. Like a wave of ecstasy, traveling from your toes, past your aching clit, through your belly, all the way to your head. Stifled moans slip through the cracks of his fingers. His fingers stay at their steady pace, pushing past your orgasm. You feel yourself dripping around him. You’ve never come this hard in your life, you’ve never felt the devotion to make you feel this good. Your body is quivering around him, unable to shake the overstimulation. You’re squeezing onto his wrist, trying to come down easy, but everything he’s doing is making the sensations crash into you.

He takes his hand away from your mouth and you immediately gasp for air, trying to find serenity.

“Oh god,” You moan, “How did you-”

He shuts you up by taking his mouth to your soaked cunt, sliding his tongue through the mess he made. You place your hands beside you to sit up slightly. This was a sight you did not want to miss. You take his hair in your hands and tuck it aside. Each stripe of his tongue makes you wince, you want him to stop, but you can’t let him. It feels too good. It’s too much but just the right amount all at once.

He was consuming you, desperate to explore every inch of you. Wildly eating you up, trying to capture every last drop of his work. You were spilling into him, it was never-ending. It was like you weren’t even there; everything except your pusy. This was a high that you never wanted to come down from. He was devoted to keeping you there as long as he could, but you couldn’t hold on for more.

You fell back onto the desk, squirming through it all. He had you right where he wanted you. You let yourself fall into him, trying to take it all. Your hands reach over the desk, trying to find somewhere to hang onto, but instead knocking the scotch glass off the desk. Shattering loudly beneath you.

Jacob didn’t stop though, he was completely distracted, locked in. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Yellow.. Yellow..” You begged, completely overstimulated and shocked. How could you even ask for that?... But it was impossible to withstand any more sensation.

He stopped slowly, easing you out of the enjoyment. His hands reached up over your thighs and rested on your hips, slowly petting them with his thumbs. He looked up at you through glazed-over eyes, completely drunk on your arousal. He didn’t want it to end.

Slowly raising himself back to a standing position, you could see how hard he had gotten. He felt just as much pleasure as you did. He was completely lost, coming back to reality. Chin dripping with your wetness…

He leaned back over you and kissed you sloppily. The passion was more fiery than before. You did something to him and he did even more to you. It was strange to taste yourself on his lips, but exciting nonetheless. You were caught up together. Complete and one at that moment. And then it all stopped…

Footsteps approached outside the classroom. You both stopped. He removed himself from your lips and raised his head to listen.

A knock at the classroom door.

“Hello?” Someone called out.

There was no mistaking that someone was in this office, between the music, the glass breaking… They knew.

“Everything okay in here Kiszka?”

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. He stands and reaches for his shirt, buttoning it with no haste. He grabs your shirt and pants and kicks them under the desk, “Go, get underneath the desk,” He whispers, “Now.”

#jake kiszka #greta van smut #gvf fic #gvf smut #jake kiskza x reader #jtk x reader #jake gvf #professor fic #gvf #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka gvf #jake kiszka series #jake kiszka angst #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut

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we-stan-cale · 1 month

Text

I want to hear about your favorite moments in TCF.

I have a long list, but I'll start with one that I don't hear people talk about much - Cale's conversation with Lock and Raon the night before the battle at the gorge.

First, I absolutely love how Cale handled Lock here. Lock is feeling like a failure, guilty, a coward - a whole bunch of negative things because he's no longer able to use his berserk transformation, and he thinks it's because he's afraid.

Cale - acts normal. It's hard to describe what that means, or why it matters. He just doesn't make a big deal out of it. Not like he's dismissing Lock's fears, but also not like he thinks Lock needs to be reassured.

This is right after Lock told Cale he couldn't go berserk. Rosalyn is also there, and the 'she' it starts with.

She heard a quiet voice at that moment. Pat. “Why is a young boy like you so skinny?” Rosalyn could see Cale pat Lock on the back before heading toward the tent entrance. Cale opened up the flap in order to exit as he looked toward Lock. “Let’s go.”

Cale just... Doesn't respond to the fear, but does show care and concern. And just treats Lock like normal (except in this case that's not really normal).

He then basically gets Lock to focus on the here and now, so Lock won't go into that headspace where he keeps feeling like he's a failure. He's preventing Lock from spiraling as he keeps thinking about what a failure he is.

Cale started to speak as soon as the young boy stopped right in front of him. “Focus on my back. Follow behind me and don’t think about anything else.”

And then he invites Lock to dinner. Just Lock, Raon, and Cale. Cale lets Lock talk, and then said something I absolutely love:

Lock’s mumblings stopped as soon as Cale asked a question. “Would you throw me away if I was weak?” “What-” Something like that was unbelievable. Lock throw Cale away? Lock’s eyes opened wide in shock as Cale smiled back at him. “Lock, you wouldn’t, right?” Cale picked his fork back up. “So, don’t ask something so obvious. Just eat.”

I love my progression fantasy, but the protagonists in those stories almost always have the same solution for every problem - get stronger.

To hear the protagonist say something like this is just so refreshing. Like - your worth is not tied up with being strong. You are a worthwhile person even if you can't destroy a wall with one punch. You wouldn't throw away someone else just because they were weak, so why are you being so hard on yourself?

And Raon hearing this leads into the final part, the conversation they have as they prepare for bed.

“By the way, human.” “What is it?” Cale made eye contact with the six-years-old Dragon who stopped connecting the device and looked toward him. Raon looked at Cale and asked. “I cannot go through my first growth phase. Is that okay?” ...

“Didn’t I answer that last time? Don’t ask me something so obvious.” “…Is it okay if I am weak?”

...

“Raon, although I am weaker than you, I’ve lived at least thirty, no, fifteen years more than you. But I am still weaker than you. I am not even as strong as you front paw. Is that a problem?” Cale realized his mistake and quickly changed the years before looking at Raon. “It is not a problem at all.”

There's more, but I've already copied enough so if you want to read the rest you should just go check that chapter out.

The thing here is that Raon, who was supposed to go through his first growth phase, couldn't. It now looks like he was afraid of how weak and vulnerable he would be during that.

And Cale, dense though he can be, perfectly reassures Raon.

Now if only that lovely, dense and yet wise man could treat himself with a fraction of the consideration he shows everyone else.

#tcf #lcf #cale henituse #trash of the count's family #lout of the count’s family

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finniestoncrane · 2 months

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Gotta be honest with you, I need to hear every single Digger headcanon you have because they 2 you've shared are just so good.

General Headcanons

KTJL!Boomer Headcanons yippee!!! woohoo!!! someone wants to listen to my bullshit!! i am so happy to write down more of my headcanons by the way, but for anyone wanting any make sure to let me know what you want the 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: mentions of nsfw things, it's fuckin boomer so of course, there's a whole load of nsfw headcanons and i mention piss because duh

General Headcanons

this is a sort of universal belief i suppose but i do think he lives in his van and i will live and die by my faith. he likes having everything he needs with him at all times. he will spout some bullshit rhetoric about living a "buddhist" existence with few material goods. and he's half right in that he has two pairs of underwear, and a collection of empty (or maybe not completely empty) beer cans rattling around back there

he's passed out twice while getting tattoos and he will yell and scream and argue that it was because his blood sugar was super low and not because he's a total wuss

he smells amazing. not like... good, don't get me wrong i don't think he smells nice. BUT he smells fuckin great. he has a natural deep musk that just hits the receptors nicely, the kind of smell that's laden with all the right pheromones to engage your caveman brain and have you swooning over him

bad habits (which i count as a bonus tbh) include: picking things: ears, skin, nose, anything. drinking to excess and then never learning a single lesson. masking all of his emotions until he's certain you won't make fun of him for having feelings. pretending to hate people that he loves because he can't be seen getting hurt. leaving his clothes lying around and relying on the smell test to get him through the process of getting dressed. kissing you in the morning before he has brushed his teeth. having no concept of personal space: he will steal blankets, he will curl around you in bed, he will sit too close to you on the sofa, he will hang off your body, he will hug you from behind and not let go, he will stand beside you all the time. refusing to take things seriously until he really has no other option. bad temper, and then defusing the situation by kicking something

yes, he has great tits and strong arms, but in my heart of hearts i know his stomach is not flat and in my head he has the sweetest lil beer gut to ever exist. it gets worse once he's just finished eating or drinking, and he cradles it and makes jokes about it being a girl or a boy. and while they might not have added it into the game, they did add in his sweet lovehandles on those hips, and he likes being grabbed by them and pulled into a hug. reminds him that when he's no longer big buff boomer, you'll still be super into his hot body

i think he's 45 years old fuck you. i think youngest he's 40, there's no way he's near me in age. we can consider sun damage to an extent but he has wrinkles, he's a dad, he's got big ol bags under his eyes and a slightly receding hairline

he's competitive, but not in an aggressive way, more in an annoying way. like you play a board game with him, and he'll do everything in his power to distract you, or use the rules against you. and if he loses, he doesn't go in a big strop, maybe a tiny huff with a few whines. who can refuse him a pity win when he's looking up at you all sad with those big green eyes and batting those silly eyelashes?

if there is something about you that he can mercilessly tease you for (without making you cry) he will harp on about it constantly. it's his way of showing that he's comfortable around you, enough that he can make you want to punch him in the throat. he can give but he can't take though, so remember that before you point out that he is in fact ginger, or that his freckles make him look so cutie-patootie, or that his tattoos are kinda dumb

you have to laugh at his jokes and puns, it's a requirement and he'd be tempted to make you sign a contract saying you will adhere to this rule. it gives him a boost, makes him feel proud. plus he is genuinely very funny, and the dorky nature behind his silly jokes is so endearing

Relationship Headcanons

when he falls for someone, he falls first and he falls hard. he also falls pretty easily, and he's no stranger to heartbreak, but he has his terrible coping methods to keep him going

he finds it easy to find something about everyone that he likes, because he's just prone to liking people. he thinks everything and anything is sexy, and he can find your good traits like a pig sniffing out truffles

he regularly brings home gifts for his partner, stolen or otherwise. no one needs to know how you aquired such an expensive piece of jewellery or that really nice original looking bit of art. maybe you just happen to save a lot of money by living in the back of his van with him!!

gifts are just one of the ways he is surprisingly thoughtful for a boy with no thoughts behind his eyes! dates are another thing he's fuckin stellar at!! wherever you're going and whatever you're doing you are guaranteed to have fun, that's just how he is. he makes everything tolerable, and he can turn a shit day into a great one

he's desperate for friendship, far more than he is for anything romantic or sexual, although if the two could go hand in hand that'd be an ideal scenario. he might claim to be chill and looking for a quick root, but he's far more interested in finding a partner who can be his buddy as well as his lover

there's never going to be a moment when he's not touching his partner by the way, like that is just something you are going to have to put up with

hand on your shoulder, hand in your hand, hand on your waist, hand on your thigh, hand on your back, hands around you as he hugs you from behind, hands around you as he hugs you from the front, hands around you as he hugs you from the side, hand on your butt, hand on your chest, hand on your stomach, hand on your cheek. the man has borderline separation anxiety

holding hands is his favourite though, especially when paired with his habit of loudly announcing your status to anyone within earshot. "oh this is my partner!" "yeah i'm their boyfriend!" "i'm fucking that beautiful bit of arse over there, thanks for asking!" like thank you, digger

he's surprisingly emotional, and surprisingly open once you get past his protective exterior layer. he's still always joking around and trying not to take things seriously, but the minute you or he needs some serious feeling time he is down for it

i don't think he would ever choose a sexuality. personally, i feel like he's bisexual or pansexual, but digger would say he's just sexual. he'll go for anything with a pulse who was happy to see him. there's a bit of digger for anyone (or anything...)

he'd be quick to take things to the next level with a partner he really loved. like he comes to pick you up one day in the boomer-van and he's like "tah-dah" and in the bacl there's a plastic storage box duct taped to the wall with your name written on it. this is how he would ask you to move in with him. you might need to get rid of a lot of your posessions but he wouldn't be adverse to you cleaning up the van or making it your own though!! i bet he'd love to have fairylights on the ceiling and some rugs on the floor

NSFW Headcanons

he has a piss kink. i know that is not a thing for most people, but i have evidence backing this up. it's barely a headcanon at this point, it's just straight up fuckin canonical fact lmao!! anyway i don't think it's a goes both ways thing most of the time. he likes to be the one pissing, it's where he refuses to be a switch and will only be the dominant one, usually

speaking of being the dominant one, it's what he's most comfortable with since he's a loud, brash, bold and heroic villainous boy, but he really doesn't mind switching things up. he can be a gentle dom, a bratty sub, and any combination in between. really, he is up for literally any activity or kink or fetish or position you can throw at him

he gets very vocal during sex. he spouts all kind of filth at you, confirming what he's doing, what he wants to do, and what he's going to do to you. his preferred terms are surprisingly gentle though, calling you kitten or pup, princess or prince, love, babe, baby. a combination of them all. aside from that, he is loud. volume is not something he can control when he's deep in the heat of the moment and he is the literal definition of animalistic. he growls while he fucks you, and he howls when he cums, and he has referred to himself as a dingo before...

of course, if you're getting particualrly nasty, or he's in a far more feral mood, he'll be growling low into your ear, calling you a dirty, nasty little cunt while he grabs your body and keeps you close

he's into any kink, sort of believing in trying anything once (or twice... or three times...) but there's a few he just LOVES. ones that if you mention them, you run the risk of having him cumming in his pants or rutting up against your leg like a desperate, badly behaved puppy

obviously, previously mentioned piss kink, but specifically if it involves some level of servitude or worship. like you on your knees holding his cock for him while he goes to the toilet, you offering to lick him clean, or letting him piss on you because you're so beneath him and he's yours to mark and claim. begging for a taste of him or pleading for him to use you gets him going too when you combine it with this

body worship or worship in general gets him going too. he's so desperate to be loved and wanted and adored and needed, so having someone beg for him, tell him they want him, they need his cock, his fingers, his hands, his saliva, his drool, his cum, anything he's willing to give them. top that off by calling him captain and he'll melt into a sticky little puddle

he's also way behind on comfort, so a little bit of gentle love mixed with kink is a great way to help him relax. feed him a tit or a hard cock, let him suck until he's soothed himself. hold him on your lap and stroke his hair while you tell him he's amazing, and so good at everything he does

cowboy digger is reporting for duty at the breeding ranch! get you some horns, a teeny tiny cowprint outfit, a tail and a bell and he'll either milk you dry until you're crying from overstimulation, or he'll ride you until he's pumped every last bit of cum into you, making sure you're ready for him to be the daddy

he'll fuck with the hat on. he's a socks on kinda guy too. he just gets way too into it way too quickly and forgets anything else but rutting and grunting

this could have been soft, if it wasn't george, but he loves when you fall asleep on him, like your head resting on his chest or his stomach or his lap or his shoulder. he'll be sweet, of course, and place a little kiss on the top of your head. but then he will try and sneak a look down your top or at your ass or to see if you have a visible bulge he can ogle

#captain boomerang #digger harkness #george harkness #captain boomerang fanfic #finnie writes #captain boomerang headcanons #suicide squad: kill the justice league

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pablitogavii · 2 months

Note

Can you write a longer angsty story where Y/N runs away from a guy (who was aggressive/sexually inappropriate etc) and then Gavi jumps in being like “who did this to you”, “touch her and you die”

Y/N sobbing against his chest. Gavi getting angry and punching the guy.

Y/N being like “I’m okay” Gavi being overprotective and insisting that she stay at his place

Maybe with smut

Don't touch her

You knew Pablo since you were together in middle school. Then he left to play professionally but you kept being each other's favorite enemies. Somehow you could never see eye to eye.

Both of your families always talked about you two being together because of how much you "hate" on each other. Even Aurora always teases you about it.

You were right now in one of the most uncomfortable dates of your life. They guy was way too touchy and you wanted to leave asap.

"Wanna go over to my place guapa?" he smirked reaching his hand underneath the table to place it on your knee and you gulped sending the text to the first person on your list, and it just had to be Pablo.

You two were fighting last night about something again so he was on your speed dial always. Pablo received your location with an "sos" so he was already in the car on the way to you.

No matter the arguments and fights, there was no way Pablo wouldn't come when you called...likewise went for you being first there during his injury.

"Alright, let's go!" he said reaching your hand and walking out of the restaurant. You wanted to leave the place before telling him you're not up for it not knowing that was more dangerous.

"I'm a little tired, maybe next time" you say trying to move away but his grip tightened. Damn will that stupid Pablo come already!

"Let go of me ..." you say trying to pull away and he slammed you against the concrete wall and you hit your head feeling dizzy. His hand went on your throat and he left marks while kissing your skin making you sick!

"Please, stop ..." you were crying and suddenly someone pulled the guy off you tossing him to the floor and pulling you to his side.

"P..Pablo" you say drying your tears and he pulled you behind his back while the guy stood back up marching towards you two.

"Touch her ...and you die" Pablo was stern and cold and something in you warmed up at his words. It felt special to hear him protect you like this. You somehow always felt safe when he was there for you.

"Who are you, her bodyguard!?" guy said and you felt your cheeks flush.

"Who me!? Nah! You're crazy!" Pablo negated like always and you remembered why you guys hated each other so much. It was always hard to admit what you two felt for each other.

"So why are you here???" guy said and you wanted to know the answer to that question.

"Problem mio" Pablo simply said pulling you towards his car and the guy walked towards you trying to grab you resulting in Gavi punching you hard that his nose bled.

"Let's get you home nena..." he said after you were both in the car and you shook your head quickly. Last thing you wanted is to explain what happened to your parents. You just wanted to sleep and forget all about it.

"Vale, let's go to my house then huh?" he said and you nodded as he noticed you were still shaking up a little bit.

"You're safe now" he said reaching one of his hands to grab yours and you blush once again ...was Pablo really holding your hand and being gentle with you???

"I'm okay ..." you say sadly and he nodded continuing to hold your hand all the way to his house.

"Where are your parents?" you ask as you walked inside the gorgeous mansion at the edge of town.

"Back in Seville with Aurora. I'm alone for awhile" he explained as you walked to the living room and sat down quite sad and shy.

Pablo made you a cup of tea still keeping your favorite black one around, before sitting besides you and raising up your chin. This was all new and strange but you weren't complaining at the way Pablo was making you feel tonight.

"I shouldn't have went ..." you say feeling like all of this could have been prevented if you stayed at home.

"No, he shouldn't force you on anything you're not ready for ...it should have been enough to be in your company ..." Pablo was catching himself off guard not knowing why he cared all of the sudden.

"Um Pablo ...I'm a little tired" you say and he jumps helping you to the guest room before bringing you one of his shirts to change into for bed. It wasn't the first time he saw you in his clothes over the years, but tonight it felt strangely good.

"Um ...thank you for everything tonight" you spoke playing with the edges of his shirt that was falling to your knees and he smiled nodding his head and slowly getting closer. Your heart was being so strong against your chest ... what is this feeling!?

When you closed your eyes, you felt his hand touching your hair and he left a kiss on top of your head gently. It was more passion you felt when any other guy gave you a real kiss.

"I'm glad you're safe now, nena" was all he said before wishing you a goodnight and leaving to his own room.

For the next few hours, neither of you could sleep. You were both very much turned on and desperate for each other's company. It was you who slowly got to your feet and walked into his room first despite how nervous you were about it.

"Pablo? Are you sleeping?" you ask and before you could finish the sentence he was already sitting up and smiling towards you.

"No, can't ...you?" he said and you shook your head while pouting. Despite wanting Pablo, you were also a little shaken up after tonights events.

"Well, come here and we'll watch something together?" he said and you smile getting underneath the covers and he scrolls through the channels until you chose a very much romantic movie to watch.

"These are corny!" he complained for the fifth time and you giggled turning your attention away from the TV and looking into his eyes instead without another word.

"Why? Because they're romantic? Or because you wish they were real?" you came closer biting your lip while looking into his and he took the signal smirking and snaking his arm around your waist.

"You mean real like this nena?" he spoke softly and you nodded placing your hand on his heart feeling it beating fast.

"Why did you save me Pablo?" you ask and he shrugs feeling a little shy and proud to admit that he hated the fact you were out with anyone but himself.

"Because ... well because you needed me y basta!" he said looking away but you placed your finger underneath his chin making him look back at you.

"You keep going on how much you hate me, and yet you are always there when I need you?" you smirk and he blushes tightening his grip around your waist.

"One would think you're lying and that tu eres muerto por mi Pablito?" you tease making him roll his eyes at you but then your hands went to his hair and he became serious again.

"Que haces conmigo nena!?" he smirks and you blush enjoying the way his hair feeling underneath your fingertips. Soon after you two cuddled up together and fell asleep in each other's embrace.

What you didn't expect is that his family arrived the next morning finding the two of you cuddled up in his bed. Aurora was quick to play some music and make you both jump in fear being all disheveled and now very much embarrassed.

"I knew you two would end up together!" she giggled

"WE'RE NOT TOGETHER!" you both yelled at the same time looking into each other's eyes and bursting into laughter.

"Okay, they know now nena...whatever I don't care!" he says grabbing your face and kissing you sweetly before his family left you two to get ready and come down for breakfast.

"You're all mine now nena.." he smirks pulling you closer and you felt your heart jumping a beat at his words..together with you enemy..it felt unreal..but so natural and right.

"All yours Pablito.." you whisper back before you two started kissing again more passionately.

pablogavi

Barcelona, Spain

You're mine now, nena😍

comentarios:

gavisgirls: he's taken now chicas!! :(((

y.n.bebe: hehe my fav enemy 🤴🏻

pablogavi: no more enemies, now lovers👸🏻

aurorapaezg: I called it first!

pedri: me too!!

pablogavi:😂😂😂

#gavigif #gavi #fc barça #fc barca #fc barcelona #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi

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ivystoryweaver · 11 months

Text

We Shouldn’t

My Masterlist

Summary: Steven Grant is a museum gift shop employee. You are his boss’ boss. (More on this later if you like). You realllyy shouldn’t meet with him so frequently behind the closed door of your office. Especially if you can’t keep your mouth shut.

Pairing: Steven Grant x f!reader

Word count: 453

Warnings: MINORS GTFO, 18+ only, female reader, p in v, the rest is more implied than explicitly stated, some finger stuff, idk i’m new here, workplace shenanigans, be safe kids and get your work done. don’t be a bad boy like steven.

“Steven, oh god,” you whimpered, grasping his deceptively broad shoulders for leverage as you dragged your body back and forth across his lap.

Your skirt was bunched up around your waist, panties shoved roughly aside, blouse unbuttoned, breasts dragged free of the lace of your bra by Steven’s hot, hungry mouth.

“I know love,” he murmured, breathing hotly against your throat, fingertips digging into your hips as he dragged you forward, then back. Agonizingly slowly.

“Please, please.” You were begging and you didn’t care. You needed more friction. Something deeper. Faster.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered, punching the air out of your lungs with a deep, wet thrust. “Promise it’ll be good. Want to last for you, just a little bit longer.”

As if he hadn’t been inside you your entire lunch break. Who needed food anyway?

Dark curls tumbled carelessly across his forehead as he gazed down, admiring how you took him - in and out - nice and slow, and so soaking wet.

“Steven, it is good. So good,” you panted, your body electrified by the way his eyes darkened, watching himself sinking into you. He had mercilessly, agonizingly dragged you over the edge twice already, and still, his deep, possessive, slow thrusting hadn’t...ended. What did this man want from you?

“Look so pretty,” he encouraged, swiping his thumb between your folds, right where you needed it most. “Want to feel you so tight around me, love. Just one more time.” His voice was raw with want. But it was you begging.

“Steven,” you cried, your body betraying you as you liquified under his touch.

“Mmm, say it again, darling,” he lowly commanded, swiping and stroking faster, granting you the speed you wished to feel from his thrusts deep inside you.

“Steven. Yes...right there, oh god. Steven, please...please.”

“Good girl,” he breathed on your mouth, licking into it as you moaned. His fingers rubbed you frantically, his hips matching speed as he finally gave into your pleading, worshipping you with everything he had. “My goddess...”

You couldn’t even kiss him back, your panting, moaning mouth betraying the secret you were trying to keep - how often and loudly you fucked your employee during the work day.

The brief consideration to muffle your deep moans of pleasure tempted Steven to cover your mouth, but he couldn’t resist. He had wanted you since the moment you spoke his name.

The fact that you even talked to him, let alone wanted his friendship, befuddled him to this day. Then you were nice to him, and, he was shocked to discover, attracted to him.

Now, this had happened so often between you - a scandalous workplace secret - he had attuned himself to your every desire.

Now he knew how to make a goddess beg.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Join the tag list (or tell me your tagging preferences by fandom and NSFW/SFW)

@deputy-videogamer @toecurlingstories @zephyrixx @juleshadalittlelamb @thexsanctuaryx @tsukkie-daisuke @pockcock @minigirl87@i-still-dont-like-your-face @wordacadabra @lilacspider @imonmykneessir saints-and-sinners @steven-grants-world

#steven grant #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #steven grant x fem!reader #moon knight ficlet #mcu #moon knight

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wannaeatramyeon · 10 months

Note

Can we get lookism boys seeing their s/o for the first time?

Literally love at first sight and maybe their reactions?

Thanks,

Thanks for the ask! I've written a few slightly more fleshed out 'Meeting for the First Time' listed here (Gun, Goo, Jake, Johan). But let's do some other scenario for my usual suspects.

Umm...I actually really dislike the love at first sight trope. But I do like the double-take at first meeting trope, yknow what I'm saying? Here's a mix of everything!

Love at First Sight Double-Take at First-ish Meeting: Gun, Goo, Jake, Sammy, Vin + Taehoon!

Gun Park - Ultra Instinct

Gun is not ashamed to admit that it was the sashay of your hips that turned his head at first. He is a hot blooded male after all.

And then when you whirled around, asking "See something you like?"with a confident smirk and your own jet-black eyes staring back, moments before landing a throat punch.

Well. Gun is a goner. Head over heels, lying-awake-thinking-of-you obsessed.

Maybe he should have gotten a name. But two UI users meeting each other can't just be a coincidence, he must be destined to see you again.

Who would have thought Gun Park would believe in something as ridiculous as fate.

Goo Kim - Reflection

Goo detested you on first meeting. How can such a pretty face have so much venom.

All double-edged and saccharine, nothing to be taken at face value. You even had the audacity to ask if the weapon wielding was compensating for something.

And to add insult to injury, Gun had laughed. Goo didn't even realise Gun was capable of such emotion.

Ugh. Goo does not like having a taste of his own medicine.

As the day dragged on, Goo's obsession grew. It really was like looking into a mirror. Sure this reflection isn't as sexy as his usual. But. It's still pretty sexy nonetheless.

Huh, he wanders the corridors with a sly grin, wondering about you, Let's see how well you can keep up with me.

Jake Kim - Business Unit for Rent

Jake, for some bizarre reason relegated to realtor duties, shows you around the business unit. A long empty store that, fingers crossed, after today would no longer be a drain on the finances.

"All this can be yours for 2 million won a month," he flashes his most dazzling smile. Charming and toothy that he knows few could resist.

Unfortunately, it is completely missed by you as you continue casting an astute eye over the premises.

"Ah look at the state of this. The ventilation system is awful."

Jake blinks, looking at whatever the hell you're pointing at. "It is?"

"And the walls! It'll need plastering and floors completely redone."

"Um. Maybe it has been a while since-"

"I heard the footfall is terrible here. Constantly declining. 23% down on last year?"

Your sharp eyes peer into his and he freezes. Where the hell did you even get those stats? Not even Lua or Jason would know this.

"Well..." he scratches the back of his head, thinking of what to say.

Half an hour later, after a whirlwind of complaints and pointing out flaws, you've signed a 12 month contract for less than half the initial asking price.

Shit, Jake thinks, Jason is going to kill me. Actually... Fuck. This unit had been recently renovated to attract potential renters. And footfall figures? Must be plucked out of thin air.

You completely twisted his arm with your bullshit.

Jake can't even bring himself to be mad, he's impressed. Who the hell are you? He's looking forward to seeing more of you and your smart mouth.

Samuel Seo - Tattoos (let's ignore the timelines here)

Not many people pass Samuel's exacting standard on first meeting, but you do He's frankly impressed with your work.

Someone similar to his age yet already amassing an impressive portfolio with impeccable linework and pristine colouring. No wonder you're booked out for months.

"So," your hands graze over his pecs, all strictly business yet his skin prickles at your touch. "You're thinking of your first tattoo here?"

"Yes."

"Cool, and you want it to eventually be a Sak Yant full body?" He nods. "Ok, it's going to take a while and quite a few sessions."

You give him a smile that leaves his throat dry. "Guess we're going to see a lot of each other."

Vin Jin - My name

Vin holds out his phone and with his most charming smirk, asks for your number.

"Sure," you fold your arms, showing no intention of reaching for the device, "You can have my number if you tell me my name."

"What?"

"I'm waiting," And now it's your turn to plaster on your smirk.

Fuck, who the hell do you think you are. Vin storms into the corridor, ego bruised and mood soured. Ugh, whatever. He has plenty of chicks interested anyway. He doesn't need to-

The lightbulb goes off over his head. Mary must know. She knows goddamn everything going on in this school.

Vin dashes off in search for her, thoughts from seconds ago already completely erased and giddy at the thought of finally getting your name and your number.

Seong Taehoon - Taekwondo

The first oddity is having someone your age show up for their first lesson. Then it turns out it's not your first.

The second oddity is when Taehoon tells you to show him what you got, you execute a perfect 1080 kick.

The last oddity, which really shouldn't be an oddity at all for Taehoon's ego, is that you are a fan of his from his UFC days and you think Taekwondo is the best.

Damn. And all that punctuated with a perfect 90 degree bow and 'Master Seong' too.

If that isn't the perfect way to worm yourself under his skin. Taehoon's going to be keeping an eye on you.

#lookism #lookism x reader #gun park x reader #goo kim x reader #samuel seo x reader #jake kim x reader #vin jin x reader #seong taehoon x reader #seong taehun x reader #taehoon x reader #how to fight x reader #viral hit x reader #wannaeatramyeon

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mrsevans90 · 2 months

Text

Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 14

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller

Warnings: Violence, attempted kidnapping, stalking, injured arm, mention of weapon, nightmares, angst, period care, fear, anxious Sy, police officers, language

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own.

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading!

Part 13

My heart immediately sinks to the pit of my stomach and in an instant, I’m running. It feels like minutes as I run watching Colin’s slimy hands wrapped around Emma’s chest from behind as she fights to defend herself. He is gripping her wrist tightly as he pins it to her chest and she’s twisting and yelling, but I can no longer hear her screams over my own raging thoughts. He looks up as my thundering steps approach just as Emma bites his hand.

“Ouch! You bitch!” He screams at Emma and I use his moment of distraction to rip Emma from his arms. I push her behind me away from Colin and without another thought, I rare back and punch him square in the nose. The force behind that punch was enough to split my knuckles but I don’t hesitate to follow his body to the ground and hit him again. Hard. As hard as I can. I’m completely lost in my rage as the only sound I hear being the blood rushing past my ears as my adrenaline pumps throughout my body. A large hand lands on my shoulder and I’m about to turn and fight whoever has dared to touch me in this state when I recognize Mr. Ellis. Mr. Ellis is a friend of my PawPaw’s and similar in age to him which gives me momentary pause. When did he get here?

“Son, he’s out cold. You’ve gotta stop now.” Mr. Ellis gestures to Colin’s body which is crumpled on the hot asphalt of the parking lot.

“I… he was…” I attempt to organize my thoughts but I can’t.

“I know, Sy. I saw. I saw him trying to snatch that girl and I was getting my gun out of the glovebox when you came running up. Didn’t think I could take him alone. I’ve already called 911 and they’re on their way.” Mr. Ellis talks to me like I’m a caged predator and I realize, that’s exactly how I feel. God, it felt so good to split my hand open on his face. To feel just an ounce of the pain I’d like to inflict upon him. I maybe only got two good hits in before Mr. Ellis stopped me, but I made them count judging from the blood seeping on the ground from Colin’s obvious broken nose. I hear a sniffle and whip around to see Emma sitting on her bottom leaned up against a dark colored car with tears streaking noiselessly down her face.

Oh God, Emma.

Despite protest from my bum leg, I clamber up and over to her. She’s holding her right wrist with her hand and looks absolutely petrified.

“Sugar, I’m here. I’m so sorry.” I apologize. I want to apologize for her seeing me like this, for leaving her alone, for not getting there soon enough, the list is endless.

“Austin…” She whimpers and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into my lap on the asphalt. Sirens are getting louder as police and EMT’s swarm the grocery store parking lot.

“I was…sso…scared.” She hiccups between sobs and I feel my heart absolutely shatter.

“I know, Sugar. You were so brave. You were incredible. I’m so sorry.”

EMT’s quickly rush to Colin’s side where he remains unconscious as they transfer him to a stretcher. Much to my dismay, according to the vitals they were shouting, he’s still alive.

I know several of the police officers and they agree to call Walt for me. Following protocol, they still have to separate Emma and I to hear the versions of our story to piece together what happened. I refused any care for my hand, as the throbbing in my knuckles felt like the perfect reminder that I gave Colin what he was asking for. As a second EMT is taking a look at Emma’s wrist, a police officer that I knew from the ball field in high school named Keith allows me to say goodbye to Emma before driving me to the station for questioning.

“Is it broken?” I ask the EMT.

“There’s a possibility of a hairline fracture. We won’t know until she gets an x-ray but Ms. Miller doesn’t want to go to the hospital.” She tells me.

“Emma, baby. Go to the hospital and get it checked out.”

“I’ll give myself an x-ray at the clinic and if it’s broken I’ll call an ortho doc, but first I’m going to answer the police officer’s questions at the station.”

“Sugar, I”

“Austin, I don’t want to go to the hospital where he will be. I want to go where you are going.” There it is. She doesn’t want to be in the same building with him and I don’t blame her.

“Okay, I understand. Are you in pain?”

“I’ll be fine.” She says as she stands up and a female officer joins us.

“We have to ride separately because of their protocol, but Walt has been called and I’ll send him directly to you so you won’t be alone, alright Darlin’?”

She nods and I kiss her gently.

“I love you, and I’ll be with you as soon as they let me.”

“I love you too.” She says with a forced smile. God, I don't want to leave her.

I follow Keith to his cruiser and he allows me to sit in the passenger seat.

I call PawPaw on the way and explain what happened before I ask him to go get my truck from the parking lot since he has my spare keys, that’s full of groceries and take them home for me before dropping my truck at the police station. Nothing surprises that man as he just agrees, tells me that he’ll take the dogs back with him so not to rush and to call him when I can.

I also call Walt and he promises that he’s almost at the station and he’ll go straight to Emma when he arrives. He’s a homicide detective so this isn’t even remotely a part of his job description, but he’s well respected in the community and someone I trust entirely so I want him by Emma’s side until I can be.

We arrive at the police department where I’m placed in a monitored room for about twenty minutes before an older man comes into question me. I explain to him exactly who Colin was, Emma’s history and fear of him, and my actions when I walked out of the store. The investigator surmises that my story matches the witness testimony that was given by Mr. Ellis as well as a young mother who was walking into the store when Colin grabbed Emma.

“I can confirm that the suspect is conscious now at the hospital, but you should know there is a strong possibility he attempts to press charges against you for assault.”

I scoff. “I dare him to try.” I say truthfully and the detective just leans back in his chair.

“You’re a big guy compared to him. What was going through your head?”

“I probably would have killed him if Mr. Ellis didn’t stop me. He was trying to take the love of my life. Someone he abused physically, verbally and mentally for years before I met her. I was not going to allow that to happen.”

“Off the books of course, I’d probably do the exact same if someone came after my wife or daughter, so I don’t blame you.” He said with a smirk.

“Can I see her?”

“She’s still being questioned but I can show you where to wait.”

“Walt with her?” I ask.

“He hasn’t left her side, which is unusual but Walt’s taking good care of her.

After waiting for what felt like forever, Emma finally emerges from the room she was in with Walt right behind her. Her arm is wrapped in a temporary brace as she cradles it to her abdomen.

“Austin.” She says with a visible relief as I wrap my arms around her and she cuddles into my chest.

“Thank you, Walt.” I shake his hand while not removing my arms from Emma’s body.

“Not a problem. She did well. We’re pressing charges against the suspect for attempted kidnapping and stalking, in addition to the violation of the restraining order. He won’t get out of it like last time. We’re talking mandatory jailtime if he’s convicted.” I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Thank God.” I respond aloud.

“We have some paperwork to fill out and then y’all can go.” Walter directs us over to his desk and sends someone to get us coffee.

“The final thing we need to do is a written statement from you, Sy. I got Emma’s in the investigation room. She couldn’t write so I transcribed for her.”

I bite my lip to keep from cursing at the fact that my girl is injured. The poor thing looks exhausted as she cradles the Styrofoam cup of strong black coffee in her uninjured hand. I know it’s bitter after she takes a small sip and places it down with a slight look of disgust.

“I’ll make this as quick as I can, Sugar.” I say and she nods before looking at the picture of Faye that Walt has on his desk. They engage in small talk as I recount the events of the afternoon starting at the grocery store on paper. My handwriting is just barely legible, but it was good enough for the army to never say anything so they shouldn’t have problem with it either. When I’m finished, I glance at Em who is resting her head against her uninjured arm across Walt’s desk and lightly dozing. I hand the legal pad back over to Walt who reads over it and then has me sign it at the bottom. He adds his signature as a witness to my statement.

“There was a vehicle in the parking lot near where the assault took place that had an Alabama license plate on it.”

“Was it registered to him?”

“Nope, rental car. I’ve got someone trying to confirm that he was the renter.”

“Was it darkly colored?”

“Black.”

“Damnit..” I mutter. “She said she saw a dark car parked out by her neighbor’s house all night. It turned around in her driveway but she thought it was the neighbor’s kid. I didn’t check the surveillance video when she mentioned it.” I’m such a fucking idiot, I think to myself.

“Was she home?”

“Nah, she was at mine. I should’ve looked into it.”

“Well, at least she wasn’t there and you’ve got surveillance camera’s up. Send me the video later when you go back and obsess over this.” He knows me well.

“I will.”

“She gonna be okay?” Walt asks and I shrug my shoulders.

“I honestly don’t know. I just can’t believe this even happened. I should have protected her.”

“You did, Sy. That guys face proves it.”

“I shouldn’t have left her alone.”

“Don’t beat yourself up. She’s not a child that needs a babysitter, you didn’t know. Just try to let her process her feelings about it and be there. That’s all you can do in situations like these.”

“Thanks man. I really owe ya for being there for us. For her. I know this isn’t your responsibility and you certainly don’t have the time to spare.”

“We’re family, practically brothers. She’s a great girl and I expect to see her officially becoming family one day.” He says with a wink and I smirk.

“I’m just trying not to scare her off or I’d already have a ring.” We shake hands and I gently wake Emma up.

“Sugar, we’re done. Let’s get out of here.” I tell her and she sleepily blinks up at me before nodding. Walt and I are both surprised when she walks around Walter’s desk and wraps her arms around him.

“Thank you for everything. Next time you have Faye, I would love to meet her.” She says genuinely and Walt smiles, something rare for him.

“You can count on it. As soon as she knows you’re a veterinarian she’ll be asking you a million questions so prepare yourself now.”

“Bring her to the clinic sometime. She can be my assistant for the day.” Emma smiles and I’m surprised at how comfortable she seems around Walt. I’m grateful for it though. I’m closer with him than I am with my own brother and I appreciate her having someone else here she can rely on. Walt’s not an easy man to get to know, so it makes me happy that she broke down that barrier and got him to open up. Breaking down walls seems to come naturally to her. God knows, she worked her magic on me somehow.

We say our goodbyes and make our way to the parking lot where I find my truck parked in the lot, just like PawPaw said he would.

“How?” Emma asked as I opened the passenger door and lifted her in.

“PawPaw. Called him on the way to the station.” I answer before getting in and cranking the engine. It’s late afternoon now and this day seems to have gone on forever.

“Can we get something to eat on the way home?” Emma asks and I arch my eyebrow at her.

“Sure, but I’m taking you to get that arm checked out.”

“No. I want fast food, and I want to go home.” She demands.

“Baby, I’m worried that it’s broken. You’re clearly in pain. You’ve been cradling your arm against you since it happened.”

“I just need some Tylenol and a greasy burger. I’ll go tomorrow. After everything today, I just want to go home. Please?” She looks at me with pure exhaustion and almost seems like she might cry. I nod and put the truck in gear. I can't ever seem to tell her no.

“Promise you’ll tell me if it hurts and I’ll take you to the doctor.” I command and she promises.

After securing a bag full of greasy Mcdonald’s, I start making the way towards her house assuming she’d want to be in the comfort of her home. I plan on staying wherever she is, so I’m glad my grandparents took the dogs for the night.

“Where are we going? You missed the turn.” She points out.

“You said you wanted to go home so I figured you meant yours.”

“No. I want to go to yours.”

“Okay, Sugar.” I tell her as I make a u-turn to head back in the direction of my house with a small smile on my lips.

“What?” Emma asks.

“I just like hearing you say you want to go home and meaning my house. I figured you’d want to be in your own bed or something.”

She shakes her head. “Your house feels more like home to me.”

“It is baby. It’s our home.” I tell her as I tuck some hair behind her ear and her smile melts my heart.

After we get home and I explain that the dogs are with my grandparents, Emma takes some medicine before we tuck in to our greasy dinner. Is it really that tasty, or are we just starving from the events of the day? The Wizard of Oz plays noisily on the tv in the background but neither of us seem to be watching it, rather just using it as background noise while we eat.

Emma is quiet, likely processing everything that has happened so I just remain a silent presence as I let her sit in her contemplation, remaining close if she decides she’d like to talk.

I place a bag of frozen peas on her arm when she’s done eating and it startles her almost as if she didn’t notice me moving around beside her. She thanks me quietly as I elevate her arm on some pillows before I run my hands through her hair. We remain sitting in the living room until the movie credits are rolling on the tv screen. Emma is curled against me but seems uncomfortable. I ask her if her arm hurts and she just replies, “cramps”. Damn, in all of the madness today I forgot. This morning seems like it was a lifetime ago.

“Let’s go take a warm shower and get in bed, Darlin’”.

Emma nods and I help her up before tossing the peas back in the freezer. I shut off the lights and double check that the doors are locked before we head into the master bathroom and I turn the water on to get it warming.

“I’ll give you a minute. Need anything?” I ask and she just shakes her head.

I head back into the bedroom making sure I have all of the comfort items I purchased this morning ready for her. I pulled out one of my t-shirts and grabbed some panties from her bag before setting them on her side of the bed. I made sure she had some water and pain relief meds on the nightstand as well. I stripped myself down before knocking on the bathroom door to let her know I was coming back in. Emma was already standing in the hot stream of water so I joined her and wrapped my arms around her. Her bandage was taken off and sat on the bathroom vanity and this was the first look I had gotten of it since she got hurt. I gently placed her arm in my flat palm and looked at the blue, purple, and slightly yellow bruise that had formed along the top of her forearm.

“I’m okay.” She said as I stared at her arm and tried to reign in my anger towards that bastard of a human.

“You should see the other guy…oh wait.” She jokes and I can’t help but smirk. Before I can apologize again for not getting to her quick enough, she speaks again.

“Could you help me wash my hair?”

“Of course, Sugar. Let me.” I take her shampoo that she brought and left over here a few weeks ago and washed her hair before rinsing and conditioning it. While letting that sit, I washed her body as gently as I could. I noticed her knees were scraped but didn’t say anything about it, just gently cleaning them off. After rinsing her hair and her body, I quickly bathed myself before getting us out and wrapping her up in a towel. I attempted to wrap her hair up in a towel as well, but that ended up being more complicated than I realized. She smiled and asked for a moment of privacy so I waited for her in the bedroom as I threw on some boxers. Emma came out a moment later still wrapped in her towel and I quickly helped her put on some panties and my DILIGAF t-shirt that she loves so much. I re-wrapped her hand with the bandage that the EMT’s placed on it earlier today and made her promise that we would get it looked at tomorrow. She showed me how to brush her hair, claiming she could do it with her non-dominant hand, but I was adamant that she let me help her. I gently combed through the tangles over her long hair before settling her in bed with the hot water bottle on her abdomen before crawling in behind her to spoon her.

“Mmm. Thank you for the hot water bottle. And, everything else.”

“I’m just sorry you got hurt. I’ve replayed it in my head a hundred times at least and I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“Baby. Don’t. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m so grateful you were there.”

“What happened…when I went back inside the store? I’ve been trying not to ask but I just need to know.”

“Well, you went back inside and I started unloading the groceries into the truck. Once I got them all in, I went to put the grocery cart in the little return area. I didn’t see him, I just felt someone come up behind me and I tried to turn around but he wrapped his arms around me and told me to stay still. That’s when I knew. The second I heard his voice and felt his breath on my neck, I knew it was Colin. I told him to stop, not do this. All he said was, “I’m going to make you regret turning your back on me.” I noticed he was sort of backing me up away from your truck and that’s when I started really fighting him and screaming. You showed up a few moments later.” She explained.

My hands gripped tightly into fists as I thought about what happened next. His hands on her, Emma’s screams, my urge to get to her.

Emma placed her hand on top of mine before turning over to face me. I helped her move her hair away from her face before she kissed me. Lovingly, tenderly, appreciatively.

“I love you, Austin Syverson. You mean the world to me.”

“I love you more, Sugar.”

“Thank you for putting up with my baggage.”

“Thank you for putting up with mine.” I say as I stroke her cheek before kissing her forehead. Emma yawns and places her hot water bottle on the nightstand before snuggling into me and falling asleep. Her eyelids flutter in the moonlight that trickles in to the bedroom and I lay there admiring her strength while also running through every ‘what if’ scenario in my head. What if I hadn’t arrived in time and he had managed to take her? What if he had hurt her worse? What were his intentions by taking her? My brain gets carried away and I’m tempted to get up and get a beer, but I can’t stand the thought of leaving Emma alone after almost losing her. I lay there in the dark with the most incredible woman that I’ve ever met curled against my chest and thank God for letting her be okay before I finally drift off to sleep.

I’m awoken with a start at some point in the middle of the night, blinking the sleep from my eyes as I try and figure out what woke me. I hear Emma whimper and see that she’s having a nightmare. Usually it’s me with the nightmares, but this time she’s the one crying and curled in on herself in the fetal position.

“Sugar?” I gently try and rouse her.

“no, please no.” She mumbles and I flip the lamp on and scoop her up against me.

“Sugar, it’s Austin. You’re safe.” I tell her and her eyelids peel open, groggily.

She takes a deep breath as tears stream down her face. My heart somehow breaks even more.

I don’t know what to do or say so I just keep repeating that she’s safe and hold her until her crying calms down and she is asleep in my arms.

I lay in the dark cradling her as I try to keep my thoughts on my perfect girl, rather than that scum that I wish I had wiped off of parking lot to finish him off. I reach for my phone with my intentions clear. I know what I want. I have some research to do and now is the best time to start.

Part 15

Taglist: @shellyshellshell, @henryownsme, @caramariehurst, @beck07990, @mollymal, @kingliam2019, @syversonswife, @identity2212, @starfirewildheart, @hannah9921, @wa-ni, @kneelforloki, @cutedoxie, @enchantedbytomandhenry, @foxyjwls007, @geralts-yenn, @courtlynwriter, @corrie1013, @squeezyvalkyrie, @summersong69, @livisss, @mayloma, @uunotheangel, @warriormirkwood, @sofiebstar

#henry cavill characters #captain syverson #captain sy #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fic #captain syverson smut #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #captain syverson fluff

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gojos-thot-patrol · 9 months

Note

i DEFINITELY want more Frat Boy Sukuna!!! 😍😍😍😍

Oh man, you're twisting my arm so hard here nonnie, what ever will I do?

I guess I'm just going to have to post some headcanons and frame work I have for the up coming part 2 (Of which you can get on the tag list for it: here!) Oh! And if you want a refresher, you can find Seven Minuets in Heaven Here!

Now Presenting...

Some supplemental reading if you will ;)

Ok, lets start with just some basic information on our boy

Hes in the Alpha Beta Omega frat, or the ABO frat. The entire Frat is very quick to point out they’ve been around longer than ABO when you bring it up, minus Ryomen.

He just tells you he’s an Alpha and asks if you’re trying to be his Omega. It normally gets whatever reaction he wants

He’s majoring in business against his will (Remember this: It will come up) with a minor in he’s really about: History

If taking over his fathers very lucrative business (Again: This will come back up later) fails, he wants to be a history teacher.

He often bonds with Nanami over hating their shared major and being annoyed with Gojo and Geto making out in the most inconvenient places.

He sells drugs on the side to supplement his income, but nothing harder than weed because “Weeds not even a drug when you think about it.”

Is known for being the biggest manslut in the manslut frat. But hey, at least he gets tested regularly.

Ok, so now I want to start with a little bit of his background because it informs a lot about how I characterize him.

He’s Yuji’s older brother by about 4 years. Both of them look almost exactly like their father. The man really said Ctrl C, Ctrl V, Ctrl V.

Their father left when they were 7 and 3 respectively. Yuji doesn’t remember, but Ryomen very clearly remembers how horrible their father was to their mother. To him, it was a relief when that asshole finally abandoned the family for good.

The family moved in with their Grandpa, who was one of the very old school “I will only tell my kids I love them on my death bed” types. He also died when the boys were only 13 and 9.

Meaning our boy never really had a good role model for how to perform masculinity, and now that he’s an adult he finds himself pretending to be the type of man media told him he was supposed to be. Somewhere between Tyler Durden and Joey Tribbiani. He doesn’t think he’s very good at this performance.

The moment he turned 16, he started getting piercings to try and look less like his dad. The moment he turned 18 he got his tattoos to really separate himself from his father. Yuji thinks it’s insane, but Ryomen thinks it’s worth it to be able to look in the mirror without wanting to punch it.

His father reached out to him his senior year of high school. He offered to pay for 100% of Sukuna’s college tuition, as long as he majored in business and took over the “family” company once he graduated.

Yea, turns out dear old dads new wife couldn’t conceive, and his smoking had finally caught up with him in the form of lung cancer. Faced with an inevitable death, he was desperate for an heir.

Ryomen may have despised his father with everything in his being, but he realized how stupid it would be to throw away not only a free education, but also a guaranteed career. So he agreed.

OKAY now that that’s outta the way, let’s get into how he is in a relationship 😈

You are his first real relationship. He’s had “relationships” that lasted officially about 2 weeks at the longest. He’s had a plethora of situationships where he’d make promises he had no intention to keep. But as far as actually, serious, relationships you’re number one.

And genuinely this new emotion kinda scares the shit out of him. The first time he got love pangs he thought he was having a panic attack, the first time you brushed him off he felt like he shattered. this shit sucks yo, no wonder the Greeks thought it was a mental illness.

He has no idea how to properly love someone, he’s winging this shit: Doing everything entirely based on vibes

In his past “relationships” the moment conflict arose, he would leave. He doesn’t want to do that to you though, so head it is.

I’m not joking, the moment you have an issue he’s taking you to bed to try and distract you. And he’s always shocked when you still want to, ya know, communicate about issues you’re having after the fact. And he’s always even more shocked when you don’t just leave the moment conflict arises.

Did I mention he has no real concept of how healthy relationships work?

He’s trying though. He’s trying harder to make this work than he’s trying to keep his grades up.

Often catches himself flirting with other girls without even realizing it, it’s just second nature to him. He’ll always disengage the moment he realizes

Oh he’s jealous. Oh he’s so jealous. He sees you just talking to another guy and he’s spiraling in his head. He’s immediately getting involved and planting hickies on your neck right in front of whoever you’re talking to, because you’re his god damn it.

As such he loves to buy you jewelry. His dad’s got fuck you money, and he plans to spend it all on you. His current favorite thing to see you wear it a dainty, golden chain, with a ruby encrustedfrat b R hanging from it. It looked gorgeous on you, and marked you as undeniably his.

Suguru has 1000% had to talk him out of getting a tattoo of your name, this man is down so unbelievably bad. He’s never really been in love before, and now that he’s feeling it he’s overwhelmed by it.

This man really thought he was above getting pussy drunk until he hooked up with you. Now he realizes he’s is Not. At. All immune to it, and is actually quite prone to it!

Ultimately, his goal is to marry you after graduation, even though his fraternity brothers are highly against it. Not because they don’t like you, quite the contrary, they love you! But they all know that marrying your first love probably isn’t the move, and that the two of you have a lot of problems to work through. They want him to at least wait a few years before popping the question.

Still, every once in awhile he catches himself looking at rings and day dreaming about the future.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk frat boy au #fratboy!sukuna #frat boy sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen x reader #jjk sukuna #frat boy! Sukuna x reader

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ilyasorokinn · 6 months

Note

hi me again!! can i request number 3 (hiding face in neck) or number 8 (shielding the other one with their body) from the touching prompt list with frank castle please? whichever one you pick is fine with me <3

NIGHT TIME ACTIVITIES

my last blurb for my tumblr-versary :( tysm to evryone who sent things in! i love and appreciate you all, and i love and appreciate everyone who has followed me or read my work or sent in anything. i love you all! also, i decided to go with both prompts, so slay ;)

3. "hiding face in neck" 8. "shielding the other one with their body" (from this prompt list)

tw: crime/violence

frank didn't like it when you got involved with his nightly activities, but you were able to help him sometimes. this time, you offered him a lot of help.

you were really good with computers, and usually, he would just call up lieberman for help, but he was desperate and didn't have time to call for backup.

you stood behind frank, hands in your pockets as you waited for him to finish picking the lock. once the door was open, he yanked it open and pushed you inside.

"so, how long do we got before they come in and we become target practice?" he asked, scanning the room as you took the usb out of your pocket.

you didn't exactly know what frank needed from these people, but you knew it probably wasn't good information.

"13 minutes starting..." you plugged the usb into the other computer, "...now." your heart was beating fast as you typed away on the computer.

"and you're sure you know what you're doing?" you stopped typing and raised a brow at him, "right. sorry, dumb question." he nodded, turning around and standing guard while you got back to typing.

your eyes went from the block in the corner of the screen to the progress bar in the middle of the screen, "how much longer?"

"almost done," you responded through gritted teeth. you jumped at the sound of tires squealing outside.

"i thought you said we had 13 minutes."

"maybe they were down the street." you snapped. when the progress bar disappeared and the 'download: complete' message popped up on the screen, you ripped the usb out of the computer and turned to frank, "how're we gonna get out of here?"

"working on that." he snapped. before either of youcould do anything, a bullet flew through the wall and landed in the wall right by your head.

you yelped, flinching and covering your head, "down!" frank shouted, grabbing onto you and shoving you to the ground. he moved fast, his body covering you like a shield.

you gripped onto his shirt, shoving your face into his neck, "we're gonna be okay!" you heard him shout over the sound of gunfire.

the people shooting at you must've run out of bullets because the shooting stopped, and you heard tires squealing away. once the coast was clear, frank pushed himself off of you and looked around.

you lay there, trying to collect your thoughts, "hey, you okay?" he asked, bending down next to you again and caressing your hair.

"that was the scariest thing that's ever happened, and i was approached by the fbi to work for them." you reminded him.

he dropped his head, smiling sadly, "i'm sorry. i never wanted you to get involved in this."

"are you kidding? if this is what you go through every night, i never want you to be alone again." you punched him softly in the shoulder.

"awe, you're worried about me." he teased with a smirk, "don't worry, i can take care of myself," he reassured. you pursed your lips, humming.

again, thank you to everyone who sent things in! i love you all <3

taylor's tumblr-versary!

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cry4mina · 1 month

Text

Take Me Back To Eden - Aqua Regia (Part 3)

(Nayeon x fem!reader)

Take Me Back To Eden - Choke Hold - Part 1

Take Me Back To Eden - Granite - Part 2

Word Count: 5.1k Angst/More Angst/Angry Fluff/A secret fourth thing? Summary: Reader has the name of the person who wrote the note and decides it's time to let the culprits know how they feel. TW: Mentions of drinking, confrontations, trapped in a small space, sitting in the rain, mentions of food, intimate moments sprinkled in there (Not sex, but like something you'd only do with your partner, if that makes sense??). Reader is half way on a war path, but is overwhelmed by their own emotions, lost of confusion. Let me know if I missed anything! A/N: WELP, this is the end of my first series. I do really appreciate all of the support shown and I look forward to posting more content for everyone in the future! If you haven't read the first two parts of this, they are linked above the word count! Thank you for reading<3

***after hearing feedback from everyone this will NOT be the end of this series! Stay tuned****

Reminder: My asks/requests and DMs are always open!

You stare at the screen of your phone in absolute disbelief as you read the singular name texted to you. Blood boils through your skin as your fear turns to anger.

The phone starts vibrating in your hand as Nayeon calls trying to get a hold of you again. You throw your phone across the room in a fit of rage. It continues to vibrate against the floor, refusing your want for silence.

You are dumbstruck and livid, fighting the water that threatens to fall from your eyes. Your feet are flat on the floor, elbows resting on your knees as you hunch over, head in hands.

You’re too angry to even begin to decipher exactly what your body needs as the trauma sinks its teeth into your bones. Cold poison taints the warmth of your soul.

You’ve spent years unearthing and healing old scars, only for the person who helped you through it to completely undo all the hard work.

You quickly stand up and retrieve your now shattered phone as it rings, making your way back to the couch when you see a cable tucked until the cushion.

You raise your eyebrow, placing your phone on the arm of the couch before tugging on the wire to reveal Nayeon’s ipad hiding between the seats of the love seat you plopped on.

“She’s probably pissed she forgot this.” you smile at the thought wishing for inconvenient things to happen to annoy her for the remainder of the day.

You’d never wish actual harm on her, you still loved her. You are definitely upset enough to wish for one of her nails to break enough to make them look uneven, or for her shirt to be caught on a door handle while walking through it.

You swipe up to unlock it but it reveals a keypad for a passcode. You hesitate. Was this something you really wanted to do? You no longer had any trust in her but would you breaking her trust make it any better?

You punch in the first code and the screen shakes. It’s not her birthday. You try your birthday, the lock shimmies back at you asking for another set of numbers. You think for a second before trying your anniversary and it opens.

A deep breath in, and you click on the messages. Searching for the name of the person who accompanied your partner in betrayal.

You notice in the sidebar your name with a heart and the banner underneath your name swiftly changing as it synchronizes with the pinging of your phone.

You fixate on the other names in the list. Momo, Sana, Mina, a few Twice group chats when the name pops up to the top of the list.

“Are you alright?”

You seeth knowing the hands that typed that message are the hands that touched Nayeon. You see the text bubble start to move and then stop only to start up again.

“No, I’m flying back home tonight instead of tomorrow. I’ll call you later.”

Great. You think about packing a bag and heading to Momo’s but this was your apartment. Why should you have to leave? You think about how long you have until Nayeon arrives.

You phone goes back to buzzing as she’s panic texting you. Telling you that she will be home later tonight and you can talk it through then. She begs you not to leave the apartment. You scoff.

The ipad pings again.

“Okay, just checking in. My plane just landed back home and I have a meeting. I should be home after that. If you need a place to stay, just let me know.”

Your stomach churns at the offer. Hands that aren’t yours trailing Nayeon’s body weighs heavy in your stomach. This person can’t be offering this to her. What if she says yes? You fixate on the screen as the chat bubble pops up.

“I really do appreciate that but I don’t think that y/n would want me to stay with you.”

“A little too late, no?” You say out loud annoyed that she’s trying to assert a boundary with this person. Knowing full well it already happened.

“So she knows now? When you said you got into an argument, I didn’t think it was about that…”

You grit your teeth. You hear your jaw crack under the pressure as your eyes widen, seeing the acknowledgement of the deed with your own eyes. It has your sights on red.

“Yes. I know now.” You type into the virtual keyboard hitting send immediately and tossing the ipad to the side. For a brief second, silence fills the room. No notifications, no pinging of text tones. Just pure silence.

You stand up hastily, leaving your electronics behind, not wanting another text notification or phone call. Grabbing your keys and wallet before walking out the door. You’ve got a meeting to get to.

You hop into the driver's seat and put your car in reverse and pull out of the parking spot and into the road. The tires are recklessly screeching behind you as you swerve through traffic

. You run through the red lights like they’re nothing. Not even blinking as you speed onto the freeway in silence. You know exactly where the meeting is and you plan on being present for it.

You get off on the exit, and pull up to the JYP building, parking in Nayeon’s spot knowing she wasn’t going to be in today. You rip the keys from the ignition, hear the scrape of the metal as you push the car door open and slam it behind you.

The fresh rage in your body physically manifests as you speed walk through the cold air, steam rising from your arms as you start to walk through the side entrance close to the elevators.

As you walk past the security guard. He stands to greet you and informs you that Nayeon isn’t in today. You look at him and he sees the absolute fury in your eyes, “Carry on, Y/n” and seats immediately back at the desk.

You return to your pace, reaching the elevator and slamming the “Up” button with your hands, probably too hard as it starts the woman also waiting.

You cross your arms; heart racing with your jaw and fists clenched, leaving the taste of copper in your mouth and indents in your palms as you “patiently” wait for the elevator to come down to pick you up.

You hear the ringing and snap your head up to see none other than Park Jihyo standing inside, about to get off when your eyes connect. Her smile fades quickly when she realizes what’s about to happen.

She tried to take a step out and greet you, but you put your hand on her shoulder and shove her lightly back into the elevator. The woman you previously startled hesitates so come in.

“Would you mind taking the next one?” You hiss at her. You don’t wait for an answer, hitting the button for floor 7, and turning to face the doors as they close.

The lights are bright and threatening as you ascend up. You count the floors as they pass, Jihyo silent behind you nervously playing with her hands when you reach out and hit the “Stop” button.

The elevator grinds to a halt between floors. You turn around to face Jihyo, eyebrows creased and lean against the walls of the 6ft wide box.

“When were you planning on telling me, Hyo?” You spit at her loudly. Your hands rise to pinch the bridge of your nose. She flinched at the tone and volume of your voice.

You weren’t going to hurt her, she knew that. She’s just never seen you like this before. She takes in your demeanor and slowly runs her eyes up your body taking note of your unkempt clothes, the bags under your eyes, and lack of jacket.

“Did you speed here after seeing that conversation?” She quizzically inquired while tilting her head at you. You roll your eyes, uninterested in the question. You feel like she’s challenging you, even if it is innocent.

“Here’s what we are going to do.” Firmly enunciating your words as they sputter out of your mouth.

“I’m going to ask you the questions and you are either going to answer them or we are going to be in this elevator for a very long time.”

Jihyo nods her head, understanding that this isn’t the time for her to try to ease the tension with playful banter. She does pity you though, knowing that she was part of the cause makes her eye shift to the floor as she begins to speak. Her empathy is losing its meaning in your apathy.

“Listen Y/n, I know that this is a lot and I can’t imagine what you are going through and feeling right now. I need you to know that it was a one time thing and it has never happened again. We were both drunk out of our minds.”

She lifted her head up to try to sneak a look at your face. She sees your eyes spilling over and winces. She hates this just as much as you do but you’re unsure of if it’s because the conversation is emotionally charged or just uncomfortable.

“It was a stupid mistake. We were going to tell you but we were trying to avoid this. It was years ago. I didn’t even know she was seeing someone until she told me the morning after. She was inconsolable. She was so scared to lose you that she couldn’t stop crying and shaking…I wrote her that note and stuck it in her wallet the night of thinking it would be funny to wake up too. I thought she would’ve thrown it away by now.” Jihyo sighed heavily, searching your face for signs that you were absorbing her story.

“I can tell you this much. I’ve never seen Nayeon look at anyone the way she looks at you. The way her eyes light up when she talks about you is something other people dream about when they think of love.”

You choke on your emotions. Dropping your angry mask to reveal the truth behind your eyes. Suffering. You squat down and hold your knees to your chest as you sob. Jihyo quickly follows, placing a hand on your back trying to console you.

Once you have some semblance of calm, Jihyo speaks again. “Do you remember the night that I called you from Nayeon's phone?” Hyo smiles at the memory. It lives happily in her brain too

. “I didn’t know how into you she was until she started crying about missing you…and when you got to my house and she almost tackled you in the snow, it only solidified how important you are to her. It was my idea not to say anything…”

You glare at her waiting for her to finish.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I really am. I just didn’t want to shatter something that was just starting. Look at the beautiful relationship you’ve built with her. I could tell when I saw you both together that you were meant for each other. I felt bad for it then and I feel even worse about it now.”

You feel yourself melting into sadness, once more. A heavy breath leaves your mouth when you realize you were so wrapped up in what was happening that you forgot you were in a stopped elevator.

You calmly stand and brush yourself off. You hit the stop button again and the elevator groans to the 7th floor. The doors open and a few people file in, not realizing the emotionally charged conversation that had just taken place, though you’re sure it’s displayed across your face.

A man in a suit pressed the “Ground level” button and the elevator descended to the lobby.

Once the doors open, you swiftly walk past security. Trying to leave behind the anger fueled attempt at a conversation, even if you didn’t say much.

The friendship you developed with Jihyo allowed her to know exactly what to say so keep you calm despite that being the first appearance of your unadulterated anger.

You leave JYP through the front doors, and start walking down the sidewalk through the rain. “Where are you going?” You hear Jihyo shout from the front of the building. You don’t even turn around, you just keep walking.

You find yourself in a park by a river and sit down on the wet bench. The light drizzle that threatened rain all day opened up and washed over your skin.

You should’ve brought a jacket, you think as you let the cool drops land on your back completely soaking you. You reach in your pocket, forgetting that your phone is at home.

The words “Missing something?” Unearths itself out of the rain with a black umbrella and sits next to you on the bench, shielding you from the downpour. “Didn’t want to be bothered by the constant ringing?” You sit in silence not wanting to interact with Jihyo.

She knows you well. You’ve been around each other for long enough to pick up on the little things. You roll your eyes wishing it wasn’t someone who could reflect you back to yourself. “Look, I know this is overwhelmin-“

“No, you don’t” cutting her off with a tone that could dissolve the strongest on metals.

Your face contorted with exasperation as you spew out the words, “You have NO idea what it’s like to look at the person you’ve spent the last 3 years with and question whether or not they are who they say. You don’t know what it’s like for that same partner to hide things behind your back with someone you consider family. Please tell me about a time you’ve experienced this level of betrayal, Hyo. You’ve got no clue what I’ve been struggling with these past few days and don’t you dare say that you have!”

Your words were harsh and she accepted them.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She calmly states while holding eye contact with you.

You're more upset that she’s so polished in her responses. You maintain your angry demeanor turning to face the river in front of you.

The rain continues to fall as you sit in silence, Jihyo just sitting next to you waiting for you to speak.

“Why are you still here?” Annoyed at her presence.

“Because I’ve made you upset with my actions and you’re my friend.” The emotional whiplash your body is projecting is infuriating. Overwhelmed by the notion that two things could be true at once. On one hand, you’re livid with Jihyo and Nayeon. On the other, you respect the accountability of the person in front of you, even if it only instills anger in you further.

She’s sat here in silence with you, in the middle of a thunderstorm only to be yelled at.

“If I would have known this was the result of keeping it a secret, I would’ve told you years ago. I wouldn’t have convinced Nayeon not to say anything. Hell, I barely remember any of it, neither of us do. I really am sorry.”

Her words make you think about Nayeon. If she didn’t remember…if she wanted to tell you.

Nayeon had never broken your trust before. She was always honest, even overly honest. She would answer anything you asked her. You had trusted her with every detail of your life.

Every scar that ever calloused over your heart was shown to her. Whenever they started to ache again, she would kiss the wounds and soothe you. You crave that same comfort now, undecided if you are going to go and get it, reeling at the potential falsehood of it all.

Jihyo watched the cogs move in your head as you sorted through the information and filed it away where it belonged.

She stands up and looks over, “do you want a ride back to your car? The rain is only going to get worse from here.” You nod your head yes and walk back to the car, getting in the passenger side. You sit in silence the 4 minute drive back.

Your stomach starts to growl as you approach the JYP building. You wished you brought your phone with you so you could order something and have it be at the house by the time you got there.

“If you ever want to talk, please know I’m here for you” she says as you get out of the car in silence and close the door behind you.

You ended up stopping at a local cafe to get something to go. The girl behind the counter widening her eyes as she watches you walk in, absolutely drenched. You ordered your usual sandwich.

“Anything else?” The girl behind the register asks, still looking at you like you’ve got something on your face other than rain and tears.

“Yeah, actually. Can I get that one salad you guys have with the apples in it? I’m not really sure what it’s called.” You only know it by “Nayeon’s favorite”.

The girl rolls her eyes and punches in the order. You pay for it, and twiddle with your thumbs while you wait.

Pulling up to the apartment felt different this time. No people waiting for Nayeon outside, no cars blocking you from making a swift escape into the building. You wonder if she’s home yet as you get into the elevator.

The kitchen is lit up upon entry. You left all the lights on. Phone and ipad are still on the love seat but the sectional is occupied by a sleeping Nayeon.

She’s wrapped in the blanket you’ve been using and laying on your pillow. You quietly walk in and place the food on the counter and quickly step into the bedroom. You let out a light sigh, and decide it’s time you take a shower. Feeling grimey from the rain.

You emerge from the bedroom in sweatpants and a cropped tank top, hair still wet. You tie it up into a bun and quietly pull plates down from the cabinets.

You glance over to see Nayeon still asleep and notice that her phone is in her hands. She’s probably waiting to hear from you. Plating the take out, you quietly bring the dishes over to the living room and place them lightly on the coffee table.

You return to the kitchen and grab another bottle of wine from the refrigerator and a set of glasses. You pop the bottle open, and freeze as you hear a shift coming from the couch.

You don’t look back at the sound. Continuing pouring the wine into the glasses you had already set out. You hear a light gasp as she notices the food on the table. You hear the smile in it and fight back the upward pull of your lips.

Anxiety sets in as you remember what you’re walking into. You feel your fingers locking up as you reach for cutlery. It rattles in the drawer, drawing Nayeon’s attention. She stills as she feels her brain turn on, remembering what had happened hours beforehand.

Picking up the glasses and bringing them to the table, her eyes follow your every move. You place a glass down in front of her and hand her silverware. “Eat.”

She’s moving very cautiously through this unnavigated territory. Not only in the sense of “walking on eggshells” even her usually fluid movements were slow and strategized.

You take the sight of her in as you pick at your food. It looks like the nap she took was the first ounce of sleep she’s had in days. Eyes bloodshot and half lidded as she chews. She sets her fork down, takes a large sip of the wine and looks down at the floor.

“...Y/n…” she briefly looks up to see you already present and focused on her. You’re waiting for your explanation that she owes you.Her eyes return to the food in front of her to avoid adding discomfort to herself.

Her face beams a shade of red as her eyes close. It twists in a way you’ve seen many times before and she tries to hold it all together. Pools of tears start to collect and shed as she continues. Her words muffled underneath a thick layer of guilt.

“I made a mistake, a really bad one, at the very beginning of our relationship.” You wince at the sound of her voice cracking. The sharp edged subject matter slicing at you in the same way finding that note did.

“I need you to know that I do not remember any of it. I was that drunk and so was Jihyo.” Another twist of the knife in your chest. You remember to breathe and continue listening.

“Nothing has happened since, and nothing like this would ever happen again. I wanted to tell you but the person I was then and the person I am now are two completely different people. Even that version of myself would never dream of hurting you in such a way. I allowed myself to be convinced that not telling you was better than you leaving. Please understand that I would do anything to remove this from my past…our past.”

It all becomes too much as you shoot up from your seat and bring your plate to the kitchen and put it in the sink. Faucet on, you scrub the plate like it’s caked in dirt. Nayeon, who is still in the living room, stands up and follows you to the sink.

She’s sniffling behind you, covering her mouth with the sleeve of your sweater she was wearing. You tilt your head to face her, taking in the pure shame she was already putting herself through for the act that she committed. You turn the faucet off and dry your hands with the towel hanging on the oven’s handle while turning to fully face her.

You pitch the bridge of your nose trying not to break again. Wide eyes looking at you, studying your body language trying to determine what you’ll say…if you’ll say anything. She can see the stress emanating from you

“Please say something.” She breathes, reaching out to touch your shoulder in hopes to bring you back to the present. Hoping it’ll keep you from emotionally shutting down.

It sends a shock to your nervous system, almost jumping out of your skin as the soft familiar hand glides down your arm to your hand where she leaves it.

“I don’t know what to say, Nayeon.” You are battling yourself. You are both angry and so in love with this beautiful human in front of you. Even with tears in her eyes, she was magic to you. Effortlessly, stunning even in the face of fear.

You are endlessly baffled by the mistake made because she’s always been so attentive, so patient, so tender and caring that even her admitting it to your face felt like a lie. You know that’s not who she is, right? Wrong. You don’t know anything for certain. Logic and emotion argue as you stand there silently. Trying to figure out where to go next.

She reaches out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the other hand still in yours and tears still falling. You don’t want to let go of her hand, but you don’t want to tighten your hold on it either.

She’s patiently watching your eyes as they animate the war in your head. The two sides were fighting and you were standing on the fence of the choice you had to make. You ponder what life would be like without her and what life was like with her. Do all of those amazing moments count for nothing? Were they a waste of time?

You take a deep breath and look Nayeon right in the eyes. She feels almost violated by how deeply you are looking into her.

“I am devastated.” Your shoulders are feeling slightly lighter as you continue.

“I can’t believe you did this and didn’t tell me. For our entire relationship to be built on this foundation absolutely shatters me and everything we’ve ever built together. I feel like I don’t know who you are.”

The last sentence knocks the wind out of her. She’s gasping for air and holding back sobs.

“I just never expected this from you…” you said shakily while you watched her try to collect herself.

You rotate and sit down on the floor, sliding your back down the flat doors of your cabinets. She follows but on the other side, feet between yours. Trying to muffle the cries because she can’t bear the fact that she has caused this damage.

You feel the exhaustion take over. Your physical body has been tensing to hold the weight of the situation for days now. You yawn, Nayeon regulates her breath as you try to gain the energy to continue the conversation.

She stands up and lays her hand out for you, wordlessly. She doesn’t let go of it as she leads you to your shared bedroom, a bed left untouched sits right in the middle.

You are thinking about how great sleeping in your bed will feel after being on the couch for days. She’s out of the room as quickly as she brought you here.

You start to feel warm under your clothes. You remove them and fling them into a corner. Crawling under the comforter and settling in.

Nayeon returns, your pillow in hand. She notices you’re missing your tank top and shifts her eyes down out of respect. Not knowing if you wanted her to see you this way anymore.

She bends down and unplugs her phone charger and grabs her pillow. “I’ll sleep on the couch, I know how your back gets. Please get some rest.” She kneels on the bed for a second and leans in but hesitates.

Was it her place to kiss your forehead still? She took the risk and quickly walked out of the room.

You lay in bed for what feels like hours. Uncomfortably tossing and turning in the lonely sheets. You open your eyes and stare at the ceiling, getting lost in the patterns of the texture.

Exhaustion is no match for your mind and you really don’t want to be in this bed alone right now. You sit up, comforter falling to reveal your chest.

You think about how Nayeon is on the couch by herself right now. Probably overthinking everything and stressing herself out, no sleep in sight. In a moment of weakness, you stand up and saunter into the living room.

She lay splayed out in the sectional, phone in hand scrolling mindlessly in the warm light. A useless distraction, you were all that filled her mind.

You take note that she removed the sweater and was only in a sports bra now. You can’t help but daydream about how her skin feels on yours.

She notices you standing in the doorway, arms crossed, holding yourself. She looks away from her phone to acknowledge your presence, locking it and laying it on her chest.

“Having trouble sleeping too?” You nod and bite the inside of your cheek.

You take the risk, slowly wandering to the front of the sectional and climbing into the blanket with her. She’s surprised by the action but lifts the blanket so you can get comfortable, making sure you're covered.

“You’re so cold” she whispers as you press your face into her neck and wrap your arms around her causing her to shiver. You don’t have the same compulsion of not wanting her to touch you. She feels like Nayeon. She feels like home.

She starts tracing patterns on your shoulder as she leans her face on the top of your head. Both silently enjoy each other's comfort as you drift off to sleep.

Awoken by the sound of humming in the kitchen, you smile before you even open your eyes. You know what’s happening before you are even half awake.

You’re still wrapped in the soft blanket on the sectional taking up more space that you originally were now that the other person was up and about.

“Shit.” A whispered voice rings through the apartment.

“Too much creamer again?” You slyly say from the couch. You hear her jump, she must’ve not realized you were awake.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, ba-“ she stops herself from saying the pet name, not knowing what the boundaries were anymore.

“You didn’t wake me. I should be the one apologizing, I was the one who scared you.” You chuckle, getting up and stretching before throwing on the sweater, laid across the couch’s back, to cover up a little before you start your morning rituals.

When you turn around you see her cheeks fill with red. “You okay?” You ask her, grabbing the black mug, taking a sip.

“I think so…” she says slowly, unsure of her next step. “I think I just want to know what the next step is…for us.”

Her eyes flicker to your face waiting for a response. You start to walk over to the bedroom.

“Well, we usually shower next, have you forgotten our routine already? It was only a couple of days” Trying to make light of the situation.

She giggles “you know what I mean…I just need to know if I can mend this. To fix this. Falling asleep with you last night was the calmest I’ve felt… ” You interrupt her before she can cloud your brain with sweet things. She always knew how to break you with that.

“I’m still angry that you hid it from me” stoically expressing the truth. Both truths.

“But I love you.” She smiles, hopeful of what’s to come, walking towards you with her arms out. Wrapping them around your neck and pulling you in for a soft peck.

After a few more quick kisses, foreheads connected as her arms slid down to your waist.

“But I need to make it very clear that I cannot do this again. So if you’re hiding anything else, please tell me now.”

She cups your face in her hands and brings you in for a long kiss that makes you a little weak in the knees. “I’ll never hide anything from you again. Ever.”

“Good, will you start the shower then?”

She happily skips into the bathroom.

You start to pick out what clothes you’re wearing for the day when you hear a phone vibrate in the kitchen. Walking over to the counter and picking up the closest phone to see which one it was. It’s Nayeon’s phone with a message from Jihyo.

Your face drops as you read “Did she believe you or do we actually need to stop seeing each other?”

Take Me Back to Eden - Ascensionism - Part 4

#twice angst #twice imagines #twice nayeon #nayeon x fem!reader #nayeon #im nayeon #nayeon x reader #twice fic #kpop x fem reader #kpop x reader #twice x y/n #wlw #lesbian

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