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peachdues · 7 months

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Kyojuro x Reader (modern AU NSFW)

A/N: I have COVID brain fog and it shows. You legally can't hold how bad this is against me. But if you somehow like it, likes/reblogs/comments, always appreciated! I promise I'm saving Netherwood for when I've recovered lmao.

This is like a Frankenstein-fulfillment request of several of my 2K event requests. So if you asked for Kyojuro and any of the prompts involving “please let me cum in you” or “woah, woah, I’m here. I’m right here,” congrats! This is for you. I’m sorry it’s ass.

CW: angry/possessive Kyojuro • mentions of toxic/slightly verbally abusive ex boyfriend • ex boyfriend gets decked • explicit sexual content • breeding kink • creampies • car sex • MDNI.

Everything was too loud and too close. You swore you felt a dozen pairs of eyes burning holes into you with such intensity that you were surprised you were still standing, rather than folding over like a piece of Swiss cheese. The judgment in their gazes felt like a blade against your throat, the cold sting imploring you to fold, to disappear.

There was no air in your lungs, so before you could choke in front of all of your ex-boyfriend’s cronies and friends, you turned and did as cowards did; you ran.

You pushed and shoved your way through the thick crush of bodies that had gathered in this small, off-campus house for the last party of the semester, the last chance for them all to let loose before their lives became a flurry of final exams and papers and discarded coffee cups in dimply lit corners of the campus library. You’d thought it would be your chance to relax, too, after the hair-pulling stress that had been the last month and a half of your life. Stress, that had been expounded upon by the simpering, smarmy asshole you’d once called your boyfriend, who now stared after your retreating form with a vicious grin, apparently pleased to have gotten under his former girlfriend’s skin once more.

There was a buzzing beneath your skin that would not quiet, that seemed to only grow hotter and more incessant as you navigated the maze of bodies and tables set for beer pong in this labyrinth of college-aged debauchery. In the three minutes you’d been darting and ducking around what had to be half of the Ubayashiki University student body, you’d not seen a friendly or familiar face once.

Where was Kyojuro?

You needed to find your sun. You needed your kind, supportive, and steadfast best friend who’d been glued to your side ever since freshman orientation, when you’d shyly approached him and asked if you could eat lunch beside him, feeling too nervous to risk approaching anyone else. He’d laughed, warm and welcoming, as he made room at his table for you, welcoming you with such sincerity and kindness that it was no wonder that you and so many others were drawn to him.

And though Kyojuro treated almost everyone as though they’d been best friends for years, you had been the only one in your orientation group that he’d allowed to truly get to know him. Whether it was during a morning stroll through the campus green as you made your way to your early morning classes, or pressed up against the greasy wall of the grill as you waited for the fry cook to call out your orders, the walls Kyojuro had so carefully crafted to conceal the tempest of passion and fire that raged beneath his dazzling smiles and loud, booming laughs began to peel back, and you saw him for what he truly was.

Truthfully, the more he showed you, the more you wanted; he was a riddle you would never tire of working out, a puzzle you hoped never to solve, even as the pieces fell faster and faster into place.

As your circle of friends grew, your bond only strengthened. It was Kyojuro you called when you found out your beloved childhood dog passed away, hardly able to speak through the tears as they streamed down your face. It was Kyojuro who had all but sprinted from his residence hall to yours, well across campus, with three pints of your favorite ice cream in tow, and who’d let you eat your fill until your stomach was full and the emptiness in your heart had subsided.

And it was you who Kyojuro had called to come join him as he’d smoked a rare cigarette, hands shaking with both his hurt and his anger after a particularly nasty call from his father.

And yet, you’d never dated; you’d never escalated your friendship beyond a few, charged moments that had been marked only by a series of almost and never anything completed.

He wasn’t a fan of your ex-boyfriend; that much he’d made clear. Though Kyojuro had never been one to be unkind towards anyone, you hadn’t missed the way his eyes tightened any time your ex let a door slam in your face or ignored your hand in favor of his phone. Kyojuro hadn’t been shy to let you know that he thought you deserved better – far better.

You’d wanted to ask him whether he thought better was with him, because you knew deep in your heart, if he asked, you would be his; but you never built up the courage to ask, and so you quashed these feelings down deep, hiding them away in a locked chest never to be opened.

Then, you’d finally broken up with your ex only a month prior after discovering he’d cheated on you with no shortage of other students on campus, everyone but you apparently having been in on the cruel joke. Kyojuro had been one of the few steadfastly in your corner, insistent that you’d done nothing wrong, no matter how many times your ex tried to claim you’d pushed him into sleeping with half the student body.

You hadn’t seen your ex, not since you’d coolly told him the pair of you were over, all those weeks ago; not until tonight, when you’d nearly smashed into him while trying to get a drink from the makeshift bar in this strange house you’d never been in.

“Well, well,” your ex-boyfriend had crooned, hand gripping your elbow and keeping you trapped there with him and his smirking pack of hyenas looking at you like you were something to devour. “Did you miss me that much, gorgeous?”

“Get off me,” you’d tried to growl, though the slight wobble in your voice defeated any attempt of yours to be threatening, instead leaving you to come off as a scared little girl, cornered somewhere she shouldn’t have been.

Your ex’s eyes were malicious as they raked over you. “Did you wear that for me, darling?”

He was referring to the red sundress you’d worn, the one you knew made your curves look downright sumptuous, but now you felt like it was a neon sign that read “HARASS ME,” given the hunger in your ex’s eyes that sent your skin crawling. You’d worn it for yourself, to feel confident, only now, you felt like a piece of fruit ripe for plucking, and you’d somehow fallen into the greediest hands on campus.

By divine luck, your ex’s grip on your forearm loosened and you yanked back out of his reach, forgoing the red plastic cup containing whatever grotesque combination of alcohol the party hosts had come up with in favor of putting as much distance as possible between yourself and your ex.

You’d come with Kyojuro and your friend Tengen, but now you couldn’t find either and it only made you feel more lost; more vulnerable. There was a buzzing in your ears that drowned out the pounding base of the music thumping through the blown-out speakers haphazardly set up in the house’s den. Your vision tunneled, and you wondered whether anyone would notice if you dropped to the floor and screamed; if anyone would care.

Stumbling blindly, you smashed into something warm and sold, and it sent you staggering backward.

“Sorry, sorry,” you mumbled, eyes still wide and unfocused as you moved to push past whatever or whomever you’d smacked into, uncaring at the way your torment was surely etched into your face.

“Woah, hey, hey,” a warm hand closed around your arm as you tried to shove past the body, steadying you, locking you into place. “Y/N, look at me.”

The familiarity of the voice and the touch did not register, and you only continued to shake your head, muttering your apologies.

“Woah, woah, woah. I’m here. I’m right here.” Kyojuro caught you by the arm as you tried once more to shove past him in your haste the leave the party you’d stupidly decided to attend. A hand gripped your chin and firmly but gently turned your head up to meet a pair of ochre eyes, running over you in concern.

“Kyo,” you breathed in relief, feeling yourself melt slightly beneath the steadying warmth of your best friend.

Kyojuro’s mouth was set in a hard line. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

You uttered the name of your insufferable ex and Kyojuro’s eyes darkened. “What did he do?”

His hand gripped yours and you were grateful for the way it helped anchor you and kept you from spinning out under the anxious whirlwind of your thoughts. “Nothing, he’s just being an asshole – please, Kyo, can we leave?”

You felt slightly guilty – after all, it was you who’d suggested you all come to this party in the first place, and now you were the one wanting to leave less than an hour later, but it was too much. Surely, your best friend wouldn’t hold your fickleness so terribly against you, not when it wasn’t your fault in the first place that you’d been sent careening toward an anxiety attack.

Kyojuro didn’t hesitate as he nodded. “Just let me find Tengen and I’ll let him know. I’ll drive you home.”

You smiled faintly in relief, squeezing his hand appreciatively before letting him go. The way Kyojuro’s fingers had lingered against yours had made your heart flutter, chasing away thoughts of him, your ex, and replacing them with a shy curiosity that made you want to know what those fingers would feel like if they touched other parts of you.

Or, it may have been the little alcohol you’d ingested coloring your thoughts; after all, you’d hardly eaten that day in preparation for getting properly soused at the party you now were so desperate to leave.

You retreated into the kitchen, near the open door that led out to a finished, in-ground pool in which several other attendees were already swimming, some without clothes on, too lost in whatever beverage or drug they’d ingested to care. You’d thought yourself safe, amidst a crowd of admittedly drunk party-goers, but it seemed not even the threat of onlookers would keep your abrasive ex at bay.

A hand grazed your rear end, and it sent every hair on your body standing. “Why in such a rush to leave, gorgeous?” A sickeningly familiar voice purred in your ear.

You spat your ex’s name with as much vitriol as you could muster as you turned to face him. “I told you not to fucking touch me.”

Your ex placed a hand mockingly against the wall, next to your head as he leaned in close. “What’s wrong, baby?” His breath was rank with the stench of stale alcohol, and it made your stomach churn. “You used to like being manhandled.”

Your face hardened. “Not by you; not anymore.” You swatted his hand away from where he’d boxed you in, eager to put this party and him behind you, where they belonged. “Now, if you’ll excuse me –”

Your ex’s hand seized around your wrist, its grip tight – too tight. “Just hold on, you haughty little thing,” his tone was kept light but the look on his face was menacing. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

You pulled at the hold he had on you but to no avail. Though you were surrounded by other party attendees, you felt alone, more isolated than ever, as countless eyes pointedly ignored your struggle. You were about to open your mouth, to shout, to curse your ex out, when your ex’s hand suddenly released your arm.

“Take your fucking hands off of her.”

Wide-eyed, you looked to see Kyojuro��s considerable fist wrapped tightly around your ex’s forearm, its size dwarfing the limb beneath to look like a mere twig. Kyojuro’s eyes, normally so inviting and open, had gone hard and black, his jaw stiff with his ire. Though the cold rage contorting your best friend’s face was not directed at you, its sudden manifestation from your otherwise sunny, warm, and gentle friend made you recoil.

“Kyo,” you started, voice low in warning as your eyes darted between the lethal anger simmering on Kyojuro’s face and the infuriatingly smug look on your ex’s, as he smirked at the burly blonde.

“I don’t think this concerns you, Rengoku,” your former boyfriend simpered, a challenge lighting his eyes as he jerked his chin towards you. “This is between me and her, pure and simple.”

Desperately, you glanced around the room hoping to find any of your other friends who could step in, who could intervene before things turned too ugly. Mercifully, you locked eyes with Tengen, who was just on the other side of the pool, grabbing another drink. Eyes wide, you looked back and forth between Kyojuro and your silver-haired friend, hoping he understood your silent plea.

A curt nod from your friend communicated he had, and Tengen quickly began pushing through the throng of people who had begun to coalesce around the edge of the pool as they watched the pair of men engaged in a stare-off beside you.

Kyojuro raised his head slightly, looking down upon the man you used to claim to love in disgust. “Any yet she told you to leave her alone. Are we having listening problems?”

A sardonic smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Perhaps I can help you with that.”

Your ex’s eyes cut back to you, a sneer curling his lip. “Figures,” he spat, his tone full of acid. “Not even a month broken up and you’ve already spread your legs for him like a fuckin’ whore.”

There was a collective intake of breath from the surrounding spectators as Kyojuro stepped closer to your seething ex, their noses nearly touching as he held his stare.

“Say it again,” Kyojuro said quietly, all traces of that mocking smirk long-gone, replaced only by a malicious glint in his eyes that promised swift violence that had your hand jumping to grip his arm in warning. “Go on.”

Your weak tugs at Kyojuro’s bicep did little to divert his attention. For one, terrifying moment, you feared that blows were imminent, until a painted hand shoved between the two men, pushing Kyojuro back by his chest.

Tengen.

“As much as I hate to break up the fun, I’m sure you don’t want the entire school witnessing you getting your face pounded in,” The silver-haired senior said coolly to your drunk ex.

Kyojuro allowed himself to be pushed back by his friend, though he refused to break the tense stare he held with the man he’d marked as his opponent. “We can work this out anytime, it doesn’t have to be here,” he taunted with a jeering smirk. “But stay the fuck away from her.”

“Don’t try and fucking tell me how to talk to my ex-girlfriend,” your former lover spat, taking an unsteady step towards the three of you. “Why’re you standing up for the bitch, anyways? The whore has kept stringing you along for god knows how long without putting out –“

His drunken ramblings were cut off by a sickening crunch of bones beneath a fist that seemed to echo through the crowded backyard. Onlookers stared in shock as your ex staggered back, hands flying to staunch the crimson now coursing from his broken nose, curses thick and garbled slipping from his mouth as it filled with blood.

“Shit.” Tengen breathed, his eyes wide.

A dozen pair of eyes turned towards you and your best friend, round with shock as an uncomfortable buzz settled into the thick, night air. Kyojuro was panting, the skin of his knuckles stained with blood from his split skin and that of your ex’s as he stared at your flame-haired friend.

“I warned you,” Kyojuro’s tone was almost jovial but its cheerfulness was undercut by his glower. “Watch your fucking language when speaking about a lady.”

Your hand clenched at his bicep once more. “Kyojuro, let’s go.”

Your tone snapped him out of whatever cold rage in which he’d been simmering and his amber eyes lifted to meet yours. You did not wait for him to follow as you turned sharply on your heel and stormed out of the house, eyes resolutely focused on the door in order to avoid acknowledging the way dozens of pairs of eyes followed your every step.

---

Your feet hit the pavement of the street outside, the night air cool on your heated skin. You heard the steady beat of your friend’s footsteps behind you, and you whipped around, eyes blazing, and blood boiling.

“What the fuck was that?” You hissed once the two of you were far enough away from the party and any nosy on-lookers as you stalked toward Kyojuro’s car. “Were you trying to get yourself arrested?”

Kyojuro did not answer, the scowl on his face turning into something menacing beneath the flickering lamps lining the crowded street.

“I was handling it just fine, you know, but you had to step in and turn it into a fucking pissing contest –”

“Stop talking, Y/N.” Kyojuro finally snapped, his voice a low growl.

You only seethed. “Who the fuck do you think you are –?”

Your fiery companion only placed a hand firmly at the small of your back and pushed you forward, your feet nearly stumbling to keep yourself upright as he guided you towards your car.

“Kyojuro –” you began, testily.

“Shut up, Y/N.” He cut you off severely. “Just – be quiet and get in the fucking car.”

Something about his tone coupled with the stormy look on his face quieted any further protest you may have had, and you allowed him to forcefully guide you to his car. Kyojuro wrenched the door open and pushed you down into the passenger seat, even taking the time to fasten your seatbelt for you, the brush of his hand against your waist searing into you in a way that made you squirm.

As embarrassing as you found it, you could not deny that your friend’s protectiveness over you stoked something hot and molten in your gut; made your thighs rub together, as your stomach fluttered.

Kyojuro was silent as he drove, the air between you cackling with electricity.

“Have you calmed down?” You asked sarcastically after several minutes of tense silence, unable to stomach the quiet any longer.

Kyojuro’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “I can’t believe you dated something like that,” he ground out, eyes fixed hard on the road ahead of him. “The way he spoke to you just now – that doesn’t come out of nowhere.”

You fidgeted in your seat, fingers playing with the band of the seatbelt as the weight of Kyojuro’s accusation settled.

“That wasn’t the first time, was it?”

Your shoulders curled inward, and you suddenly felt like a cornered animal; you resented him for it. “What does it matter, now? We’re done. It’s over, and I’m not going back.”

Kyojuro pulled sharply off an exit, following a bumpy road to a quiet, darkened overlook that abutted a state park. He stopped the car, slamming it into park as his hands remained tightly curled around the steering wheel, his breath hard and fast in his nose.

“Why did you date him?” His tone was almost accusatory. “He was an asshole from the start, and yet you dated him for almost a year.”

You bit your lip and Kyojuro’s eyes followed the movement closely. “Because I wasn’t sure of another’s feelings.”

Kyojuro exhaled sharply, turning his body more towards you, his eyes locked onto you with searing intensity. “And this other – did you ever confess your true feelings?”

You hesitated for only a moment, shaking your head slightly. You chanced lifting your gaze up to meet his, gulping slightly at the heat which you found there.

There was a beat, and then the two of you surged towards one another over the center console of his car, drawn to one another like a pair of magnets. Your mouths met in a fiery clash of lips and teeth, Kyojuro’s tongue sliding seamlessly into your mouth to dance with yours. His hand rose to tangle in your hare, ensnaring you against him and his fervid touch and desperate lips.

He moaned your name against feverish kisses, his lips only breaking from yours to dance across your jaw, your neck, any part of you he could reach.

He wasn’t close enough; you tugged at the collar of his button down, trying to pull him atop you, to feel if his chiseled body felt as rock-solid as you’d always imagined.

“You’re impatient,” he chuckled against your throat as he sucked his mark into your skin. “Do you want me to keep going?”

Your fingers, buried deep in his flame-colored hair, tugged, insistent. “Yes. Don’t you dare stop now.”

Warm hands gripped your waist and hauled you up out of your seat. Somehow, you were folded in just the right position to be passed over the console of his car, and Kyojuro swiftly tossed you into the back seat of his car. As you panted for breath, the skirt of your sundress rising high up your thighs, Kyojuro clambered over his own seat to join you, pinning you half between the backseat and the car door.

Before he reconnected your lips, Kyojuro’s hands found his way under you once more, deftly maneuvering you until it was he who sat against the backseat of his car, and you were straddled in his lap, chest heaving and cheeks pink.

“Was this your goal?” You teased, and to your delight, you felt something hard begin to press into your groin as your breath mixed with his, a slight fog beginning to condense on the windows. “To have me at your mercy?”

Kyojuro leaned up slightly, brushing his lips against the fluttering pulse point in your neck, smirking against your skin. “If you’re asking whether I took you out of the party with this in mind, then no,”

His hands smoothed up and down your sides before sliding behind you to squeeze your ass, rubbing firmly as he rolled his hips up into yours.

“But if you’re asking if I’ve planned to have you this way at all… then I would say,” he cut himself off as he kissed his way back to your lips, holding back the tantalizing feel of his mouth against yours for a fraction of a second. “That has always been my goal, beautiful. From the moment I first laid eyes on you.”

He kissed you softly then, teeth lightly nipping at your lower lip before he pulled away once more to look over you.

“But I want far more from you, if you’re willing to give it.”

Your heart fluttered in your throat as your legs clenched. You knew there were several meanings to his words — both in terms of the physical and with regard to your long-term relationship.

You settled on his lap, arms looping around his neck as your breath mixed with his, anticipation fluttering in your stomach.

“Kiss me, Kyo.” You whispered, your eyes lowering to his lips.

He regarded you with a half-lidded, lust-filled expression of his own. “Where?”

Your fingers wound in his hair, pulling softly in a way that made him moan. “Everywhere.”

Sturdy yet nimble fingers worked their way up to the buttons on the bodice of your sundress, undoing them with a swiftness you’d not realized he possessed.

The last button undone, Kyojuro brought his hands to the loosened folds of your sundress and pushed them aside, warm hands grazing the sensitive skin beneath.

“Christ, woman,” he groaned as your bare breasts were revealed to him. “You’re killing me.”

You giggled, inwardly glad you’d forsaken wearing a bra beneath the dress, though you certainly hadn’t intended to wind up like this — perched in your best friend’s lap, his growing bulge digging into the sensitive spot between your legs as he leaned in to take one pert nipple into his hot mouth, his hand covering the other breast and rolling it beneath his fingers.

Not a single part of you could bring yourself to regret the decision, however, not as Kyojuro’s teeth grazed your sensitive bud, your head falling back as you pressed your chest against his face, begging him for more.

Kyojuro moaned against your breast, his hand steadily working the other as he nipped and sucked at you, covering your chest in splotches of purple and red, your skin bearing the mark of his teeth as he claimed you.

You ground down against the rigid bulge nestled between your thighs, breath hitching as he pressed against that sensitive spot between your legs, causing a rush of your fluid to surge forth and coat the flimsy lace of your thong.

If you weren’t careful, you’d risk leaving evidence of your desire smeared right on the front seam of his pants. But if Kyojuro cared, he certainly didn’t show it as his free arm looped around your waist to push you down, forcing your groin to mash tightly against his.

Your hands moved desperately down Kyojuro’s front as his mouth continued to work your breasts, until they reached the top of his pants. You fumbled with his belt, determined to loosen it and free the hardened bulge straining against the crotch of his pants.

“You’re so,” Kyojuro panted, his hips twitching up against your touch. “Eager, my flame.”

Your ears perked at the affectionate nickname. “Your flame?” Your lips swept to the side to suck at the side of his neck.

Kyojuro’s head tilted to the side, allowing you more access as he pressed you harder into his face. “Yes, my flame,” he nipped lightly at your pert nipple, just as his fingers slid between your thighs to dance along the sensitive skin between your leg and hip. “Because you make me burn.”

His fingers grazed the front of your thong and Kyojuro groaned at the wetness he felt seeping through the thin lace.You nearly hissed at the contact, grinding yourself against his fingers, beseeching your best friend to give you more, to touch you where you needed him most.

“Kyo,” you whined, head falling back.

“Oh fuck,” Kyojuro slid two fingers beneath the crotch of your underwear, dragging them right up your drenched slit. “You’re wet — so fucking wet.”

“I just want to slide right in,” your friend teased, and his fingers easily breached your entrance, working deep into your opening as you mewled for him. “I bet you could take me just like this.”

His thumb brushed against your clit as his index and middle finger worked your core, making you stiffen stop him as your breath labored. Kyojuro swore again as he curled his fingers upward, feeling the way your velvet walls clenched around him.

“K-Kyo!” You gasped. “I can’t wait — I need you. Need you now.”

“Then I guess we agree,” Kyojuro growled against your lips as he shifted you beneath him. “Because I can’t wait to be inside you, either.”

Kyojuro spread you out beneath him, against the worn cloth of his backseat. He fumbled above you, trying to contort his large body in the small, cramped space of the back of his car.

His hands moved to loosen his belt and shove the tops of his pants and briefs down his hips, just far enough to let his leaking, stiffened cock spring forth, its tip smacking against his belly. Your mouth watered at the sight, at the thickness of his length, far more than you’d ever encountered before.

Kyojuro smirked at the awe on your face. “Trust I know how to use it, too.”

You flushed dark at the boldness with which he spoke, though your voice somehow remained steady. “Then prove it.”

Kyojuro covered you with a low growl, his hands flipping the skirt of your dress out of the way as his fingers slid your thong down your legs, chucking it to the side. He tugged you forward over the seat, a buckle of a seatbelt digging somewhat uncomfortably into your back, though that discomfort was quickly chased away as Kyojuro lined himself up with your entrance and pulled you sharply down, impaling you on his rigid length.

Your scream choked off in your throat as he shifted to press one leg up against the back rest of the seat and used his hands to hold your other open, keeping you spread wide for him. His thrusts were wild and frenzied, though his motions were somewhat limited by the spatial constraints of the backseat of his car. You didn’t care, however; not as his cock pistoned into you so deeply, you swore you saw stars; not as his coarse base ground against your sensitive clit, Kyojuro’s name falling in a repeated whine from your lips.

Kyojuro tried to brace his feet against the rear door for leverage for his thrusts, but each haphazard movement only caused him to grow more frustrated.

He tried to distract himself by pressing his lips bruisingly against yours, but it was not enough. Your flame-haired friend slammed his hand against the roof of his car in frustration.

“Fuck this,” he growled against your lips before he pulled out of you and away. You whined at the loss of his body heat, so warm and all-consuming. The ache between your legs had become nearly maddening as the empty walls of your core now clenched around nothing.

Even in the dark, Kyojuro’s eyes glowed, like pools of molten ore threatening to burn you with their heat as he reached blindly behind him and jerked on the handle of the car door, using his foot to kick it open.

He slid out, his stiffened cock still standing proudly above the loosened waistband of his pants as he rose to his full height. Reaching back into the car, Kyojuro wrapped his strong, warm hands around your knees and tugged you across the backseat toward him until your ass was on the edge of the seat, your legs dangling outside the door, toes just grazing the gravel below.

“Wrap your legs around me,” Kyojuro’s voice was harsh yet commanding, and your compliance was automatic. Your legs instantly wound around his waist, locking at the ankles against his lower back.

His hands then dipped below where you still lay against the worn seat of his car, splaying across your back. His grip secure, Kyojuro hauled you up and out of the back seat, his arms readjusting his hold as his hands came to rest under the skirt of your sundress, fingers kneading the fleshy curve of your ass.

You decided you’d gone far too long without his lips against yours, and so with a needy moan, you slanted her mouth back over his, sighing happily into him as his lips parted to allow your tongue to sweep in and glide alongside his.

So intoxicated were you by his kiss that you did not realize Kyojuro had walked you around to the front of his car, his headlights still beaming bright through the dark of the night air. A startled gasp broke your kiss at the warm press of metal against your back as Kyojuro laid you over the front hood of his car. Your cry of surprise did not seem to faze him, for Kyojuro only moved his lips to sweep across your neck with needy, open-mouthed kisses.

“Much better,” he grunted against your skin, his tongue flicking out against the hollow of your throat.

“K-Kyo!” You hissed, though you found it difficult to actually feel irritated toward the fiery blonde pressing you against the hood of his car – especially given the way his hips ground and bucked against yours. “We’re in the open!”

Kyojuro’s mouth pulled off your neck with a groan as he lifted his head to glare down at you as you panted and blushed beneath him. A hand reached between your bodies to grip the base of his cock, and your eyes nearly rolled back into your skull as you felt Kyojuro begin to drag the leaking head of his length up and down your slick folds, teasing.

“If I’m going to fuck you, I’m going to do it the way I want,” he warned, his voice roughened by raw desire. “I’m not letting myself be held back by a damn car seat.”

Any protestation or witty response you could have lobbed back at him died on your lips as Kyojuro pressed the tip of his cock firmly against your clit. Your head fell back against the hood of the car with a cry, your hips bucking up against his, begging him to take you and end the torment between your legs.

“I don’t want to hear a fucking word out of you that isn’t my name or how good my cock feels, got it?” Kyojuro bent low and took your nipple between his teeth, sucking at it harshly. “Answer me.”

A thumb and a forefinger replaced the head of Kyojuro’s erect length at your clit and squeezed once, in warning.

“Yes!” You yelped, your thighs tightening around his hips in a desperate but futile attempt to clench shut. “I understand – Kyo, please –”

Your begging was cut off with a scream as Kyojuro sheathed himself back into your dripping heat in a single, fluid stroke. Before you could catch your breath, Kyojuro began circling his hips, rolling them heavily against yours.

“That’s it, baby, just feel me,” He murmured, teeth grazing the sensitive shell of your ear. “God, you feel like fucking heaven.”

“Kyojuro,” you moaned, your eyes rolling heavily back into your skull. “Oh god, more –”

Kyojuro’s answering groans were loud and unrestrained, tempered only by the squeak of his car hood as he brought one knee up to rest upon it, bearing more of his weight down upon you as his thrusts grew harder and harder.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his eyes shut tight. “Fuck, I can’t get enough, I need more –”

His hands gripped your hips with a bruising force as he tiled them further, tugging you flush against his groin with your backside nearly suspended above the car hood. Your moans melted into loud, high-pitched cries as you thrashed against the front of the car, the heels of your feet digging deeper into the steel of Kyojuro’s backside to press him closer, deeper into your velvet heat.

The new angle allowed Kyojuro’s cock to reach parts of you you hadn’t known could be explored, stretching you in ways you hadn’t realized could be stretched. How you’d managed to go so long without knowing the euphoric bliss that was Kyojuro’s body was a mystery you weren’t sure even the most revered philosopher could solve. All you knew, however, as the thick tip of Kyojuro’s cock pressed against something so deep within you it made your eyes roll back and your jaw slacken until drool leaked from the corner of your mouth, was that you could never have anyone else. No one would ever be capable of fucking you the way Kyojuro was right then, and you didn’t think you’d even allow them to try.

Despite your brain having been largely reduced to a puddle of gray matter in your skull with every lurid drag and push of Kyojuro’s cock into your soaked cunt, you forced your mouth to form a single, desperate command.

“More,” you begged, the word slurring off your tongue, breaking up the series of nonsensical babbles that had poured from your mouth the minute Kyojuro decided to mold your insides to the shape of him. “More.”

“Jesus fuck,” Kyojuro’s jaw was clenched tight enough to crack his teeth, sweat running down his neck and sliding between the mass of his pectorals.

Broad hands slid to the back of your thighs and pushed them up and back until your knees kissed the hood of his car. The new angle allowed Kyojuro to pound even deeper into you, though it simultaneously rendered you utterly helpless to accept the battering of his cock as it rammed so far into you, you swore he would bruise your organs before the night was over.

The new position meant that Kyojuro’s base was pressed flush against your clit, the coarse hair of his groin circling against your sensitive nub as your own slick gathered, making a mess between where the two of you were joined. The stimulation made your toes curl, even as your feet flopped helplessly against Kyojuro’s broad back.

Whatever coil you felt winding tight in your gut, Kyojuro felt gathering as well, given the whimpers and moans that lilted from his lips in strings, his lips working a frenzy against whatever part of you he could reach.

“P-please, Y/N,” his voice broke through the pleasured haze in which you’d found yourself floating as you plummeted back down to earth; to him. “Please let me cum in you. Please.”

“God fucking – please,” Kyojuro groaned, his voice cracking under the weight of his desperation. “I need to fill you. I need it, I need it.”

You didn’t doubt the sincerity of his need; the dull thwap of Kyojuro’s heavy balls against the underside of your ass made it clear your friend was pent up, and desperate to find his release. And that release wouldn’t be nearly as pleasurable if he was forced to waste it over your stomach or breasts as it would be if you allowed him to fill you to your brim.

The answer was easy. “Y-yes,” you found your voice after a moment, though it came out as more of a squeak. “Give it to me, Kyo, please!”

Kyojuro’s lascivious groans deepened, the sounds falling from his mouth more akin to shouts of pleasure. His pace quickened though his rhythm grew sloppier. Kyojuro brought the leg still anchored to the ground up onto the hood of the car and positioned himself in a kneel, spreading his thighs wide and allowing his hips to weigh down heavily against yours as he pinned you in place, rolling into your heat.

“Fill me up, make me yours!” You were babbling now, half-delirious with pleasure and over-stimulation as you felt your orgasm build, the tight coiling in your belly promising to unleash the most powerful climax you’d ever had. “N-no one else has – no one else has – ngh – finished inside!”

A warm hand slid up to your throat and squeezed lightly as Kyojuro’s hips snapped against yours, his groans quieting to mere vibrations in his chest. “Not even – fuck – him?”

You didn’t need to ask him to clarify. “Never!” You gasped, limbs turning to liquid against the light pressure he applied against the sides of your throat. “Only yours – only yours to f-fill!”

Your affirmation made Kyojuro shudder violently above you, and before you knew it, Kyojuro was spilling forth within your core, giving you every drop of his hot seed as his hips rolled heavily into yours.

A broad hand slid down from your throat to rest against the bottom of your stomach and pressed down.

“Take it,” Kyojuro somehow had the presence of mind to speak, even deep in the throes of his climax. “F-feel how much I’m filling you up – oh fuck.”

You could. The weight of his hand against your lower belly pressed your front wall against the spurting tip of his cock as he unloaded deep within your core. And it was precisely because of the way you could feel him painting the inside of your walls that you felt yourself tip over your edge, that coil in your belly not merely unwinding, but breaking wide open.

With a sharp cry, you came, a rush of your sticky pleasure spurting forth from you and soaking Kyojuro’s lower abdomen and groin as he continued to pump into you, every twist and churn of his base against your clit only prolonging the sweet, torturous pleasure you felt as you screamed for him.

Kyojuro’s high finally ceased, as did yours, but that did not stop your flame-haired friend from continuing to pump into you, as though chasing yet another dizzying high.

“Kyo,” your cry was shrill was your nails sunk into the ropey muscle of your best friend’s back, your teeth gritting against the flicker of overstimulation flaring to life as Kyojuro’s rough base continued to grind right against your clit.

“I’m sorry, my flame,” and to your shock, you noted the desperate whine in his tone. “I can’t stop, I need more – c-can’t stop –”

You felt his cum squelching over where you remained connected, its sticky warmth dribbling down your inner thighs as Kyojuro continued to plunge his still-erect length in and out of your full cunt.

“I want to get you pregnant,” Kyojuro confessed, his eyes burning as they flicked between where he appeared and disappeared inside you, to the way your tits bounced with each of his punishing thrusts, and back to your face. “I’ve been dreaming about it since I met you.”

“C-can’t tell you h-how many times I’ve imagined filling you with my seed until – fuck – you’re carrying my child.”

Some small, rational part of your brain genuinely did not know whether he was serious, and an even smaller part was baffled that you couldn’t find it within yourself to care one way or the other. The only reaction you gave him, instead, was a struggle of your legs against his grasp until he allowed you to wrap them around his hips to hold him close as he chased his second release of the night.

“Tell me you don’t want it, and I’ll pull out,” Kyojuro grunted, though, with the way he continued to thrust even harder into you, you doubted his ability to do so. “Just say the word.”

Admittedly, it was probably too late to worry about that, given that you could still feel the traces of his cum trickling out of you as he continued to ram his length into your spent core. But even if that ship hadn’t yet sailed, you knew you could not let him pull out; could never, not when he made you feel this good.

“Don’t you dare pull – ah – pull out,” you managed, legs tightening around his hips to keep him pinned against you. “I want it – I need it, Kyojuro. Give it to me.”

Your words were enough. With a strangled shout, Kyojuro came once more, his excess cum leaking out of your stuffed cunt, its hot stickiness trickling between your cheeks and pooling on the car hood beneath you, staining faded red with milky white. The cant of Kyojuro’s hips still did not cease as he continued fucking his seed right back into you, and you could do nothing but spread your thighs wider and accept it, mewling softly with your lips against his collarbone.

Kyojuro remained tense above you for several more seconds before he relaxed, his weight pressing you fully against the car hood as he collapsed against you. You both remained quiet for a moment, working to catch your breath.

“Are you alright?” your friend breathed after a moment, nuzzling your sweat-slickened neck affectionately.

You nodded, unable to stop the wide grin which formed on your face. “One would think you’d been waiting a long time to do that, Kyojuro,” you teased, arching your neck to expose more of your throat as his lips traced delicately across it.

“And if I have?” He murmured, pausing to suck lightly on the sensitive skin below your ear. “What would you say then?”

You threaded your fingers through unruly, golden hair and tugged lightly, pulling his face from the dip in your neck so that he would meet your eyes.

“I would say,” you began seriously, suppressing a giggle at the way Kyojuro’s eyebrows furrowed. “That you should probably take me home, then, because I’m not nearly done with you.”

Your fiery friend answered with a growl, low and deep in his chest as he rolled his hips into yours once more, his cock twitching back to life.

Instead of pressing you back against his car, Kyojuro instead flipped you to your stomach, your breasts smushing against the windshield of his car, the sweat clinging to your skin certain to leave behind a lewd outline of your body against the glass.

“You should probably buckle up then, my flame,” he said with a dark chuckle. “Because I’m afraid I can’t wait until I get you into my bed to have you yet again.”

#demon slayer #kyojuro rengoku #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #rengoku kny #rengoku kyojuro #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny rengoku #kny kyojuro #kny smut #demon slayer smut #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku #demon slayer rengoku #rengoku x reader

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 6 months

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the lakes - m. murdock

a/n: hey guys so i've been struggling a lot with the fact that i might have hearing loss (i'm going to the doctor next week) and as always i am projecting, but i am not 100% sure everything in this fic is accurate and for that i apologize. but it's my little passion project and i hope you enjoy <3 as always, comments and reblogs are always loved and appreciated! warnings: hearing loss, hearing aids, tinnitus, reader struggling with being disabled, some parts are more vulnurable and don't have the reader being like overly confident in their disability, matt being soft, some suggestive behavior at the end, kissing, nicknames, pretty pg-13 honestly word count: 3.0k summary: your hearing aids run out of battery, and you're forced to struggle through a day of ringing ears and being deaf. matt helps, as he always does. pairing: matt murdock x hard of hearing!reader now playing: the lakes - taylor swift "take me to the lakes/where all the poets went to die/i don't belong/but my beloved, neither do you."

“Are you deaf?”

“What?”

You’re eighteen, home from college for the first time since fall break. Your family sits around for Thanksgiving, and there are so many people talking. There’s about thirteen people at this long dining room table, and they are all talking at once. You’re sitting next to your sister, but you can’t hear her well.

You know she’s speaking, and you’re sure you’re yelling, but you’re frustrated.

“I said, are you deaf? I repeated myself like, four times!”

You feel your face flush.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. You’re mumbling, and it’s loud in here.”

Your sister looks at you like you’re crazy.

“I’m right next to you, and I’m not mumbling. In fact, no one is yelling, either.”

You poke your fork at your sweet potatoes and feel hot, angry tears in your eyes as you avoid everyone’s gaze.

Your mom sits across from you, and frowns, planning to tell you to make an appointment at the student health center when you get back to campus.

She doesn’t even have to. You’ve booked one by the time she says it to you.

At the student health center, they administer a hearing test, and then refer you to a specialist for further testing. You call your mom, crying and she gently comforts you, before driving to the nearest bookstore and picking up a book on hearing impairments and a copy of ASL for Dummies.

At the specialist, they do another round of tests. Your doctor tells you that you do in fact have hearing issues and that you should come back in a year for more testing, to see if your hearing gets worse. For now, you get a doctor’s note that requires all your professors to take your hearing impairment into consideration. The process for getting that applied at your university is painful, and only gets worse through your years there.

Before you get to law school, your doctor tests you again, and tells you how your hearing has been decreasing in quality in the past few years. He says that you’ll need hearing aids to regulate it. You cry because you cannot afford that.

You get captioning accommodations throughout law school, as well as a note taker for certain classes that are entirely lecture based. You still try to take your own notes, but it frustrates you that suddenly you need all this help. Your own notes are incomprehensible and often miss key parts of the lecture as you sit for a few minutes trying to decipher what your professor had said a few minutes prior.

You go into corporate law after law school, choosing to stay out of court initially because you find yourself frustrated that you wouldn’t be able to process all of what’s going on due to the many voices.

You stay at this company long enough to get your hearing aids, long enough to pay your loans, and long enough to save up a good fund for your hearing aid needs.

You quit your job and get hired at Nelson, Murdock & Page as an interim while you decide what you want to do.

With your hearing aids, life isn’t so frustrating anymore. You find yourself enjoying casual chatter and not worrying about processing what your friends are saying. At family dinners, you take your hearing aids out when you’re mad at your family, to which your stepdad, another hearing aid user, always laughs.

And, despite the pay not being stellar at your job, you love it. You love working with people who need help, love fighting injustice, and you love your coworkers.

...

If only Matt Murdock would reciprocate your feelings towards him.

You’ve been dancing this dance for months. You come into work with coffee and stutter when you get to his doorway.

You wonder if he’ll ever know how desperately you want him.

You go about your days quietly, going to the bar with them at the end of a long week. You love your friends and find yourself hoping they know how much you love them.

Karen and Foggy, as well as Foggy’s fiancé, know about your hearing aids since they sit sort of clunkily on your ears.

You don’t tell Matt, though, not at first.

You know how bad it is, to not even tell your blind crush that you have hearing aids. But you’re embarrassed. It makes you sound like an old person even though you’re in your twenties.

But when Matt crawls into your window late at night, bleeding, you don’t even flinch as he crashes onto your floor behind you. You’re reading, your hearing aids out, and he’s unsure why you can’t hear him. Your heartbeat had no reaction, it’s like you don’t even realize he’s there.

He taps you on your shoulder and you turn quickly, and gasp, before starting to sign at him. Even in his disoriented state, he knows you’re doing something with your hands and moving your mouth. At first, he thinks that he might have stuff clogging his ears, but then he realizes you’re signing, probably because you think Daredevil isn’t blind.

He takes off his helmet.

“Matt?” You say, and it comes out a little louder than it should, because you can’t hear yourself to gage how loud you’re being.

He says something, and your gaze focuses on his mouth, where you can barely make out what he’s saying.

“I can’t hear you.” You say, softer now. You reach over to your bedside table and put your hearing aids on. By the time you look back, Matt has passed out on the ground. Oh fuck.

You get your first aid kit and begin to work on his wounds. When you’re done, you pull him onto your couch, now stained with his blood, and watch as he sleeps. Blood covers your hands, and you listen to him breathing.

When he wakes up that morning, you’re asleep on the couch, and when you feel him start to stir. You grab your hearing aids, and turn them on, before watching him wake.

He says your name softly, and you take his hand in yours.

“Hey.. You.. You’re Daredevil...”

“You’re deaf.”

“Hard of hearing. Not fully deaf, just… My right ear is a lot better than my left, but without my hearing aids I’m close to deaf, yeah…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were Daredevil?”

“I was scared. Scared that… That you would view me differently, scared that you wouldn’t like me as much.”

“I was scared too..”

“When did you start losing your hearing?”

“In college. I realized it when I went home for Thanksgiving, and then it got worse from there..” You tell him. A hand reaches out to your face, and you lean into it, letting your cheek rest in his palm. His fingers trail up towards your ear and gently run his fingers over your hearing aid.

“Thanks for stitching me up.” He says softly.

“No problem.”

“The hearing aid does explain the buzzing I always hear when you’re around.”

“You can hear my hearing aids?”

“Apparently. I can hear a lot of things. I have heightened senses. You use pomegranate shampoo and had red velvet cake for dessert tonight. Your heart is racing.”

Your face flushes.

“I can turn them off if it’s bothering you.”

“How would you hear me, then?” He has a point.

“I just don’t want them to bother you.”

“Don’t offer to hide your disability just to make other people more comfortable.”

You kiss him when he says this, in a careful way. You’re gentle, making sure not to hurt him as you do. He lays there and lets you kiss him, his hands on your face. You realize you had no reason to be scared that Matt might reject you for your disability, because he is the only person in your everyday life who really gets how it is to have a disability that affects all aspects of your life.

You trace the healed scars on his skin as you kiss him gently, careful not to hurt him. You promise that you’ll kiss him more passionately when he isn’t freshly stitched up.

• • •

A few weeks passed after that night. You and Matt start seeing each other more and more as you fall deeper in love. You find it silly that you wasted so many days, afraid of talking to each other and maybe disappointing each other over the fact that you both lack a vital sense.

But Matt never views it that way. You wear hearing aids and it’s perfectly fine because most of the time, you aren’t struggling to hear him and cannot communicate with him, and he can’t see when you can’t hear him.

Instead, Matt loves that he can hear your hearing aids buzzing softly because it always alerts him that you’re there. He can hear your heartbeat and smell you, too, but it’s not quite the same as this soft little buzzing that reminds him often of a bee.

Except for this one day.

You slept over at Matt’s on a Thursday and really, you should have known better. You knew your hearing aids were going to need a battery change soon, but you’ve been so busy with work and with Matt, and worrying about him at night, that you’re tired. So tired that you forget to pick up batteries before your hearing aids die.

You sneak out of Matt’s apartment early, sending him a text that you needed to go get changed before work. Really, you want to avoid the fact that you wouldn’t be able to hear him. But he didn’t respond to your message. You decide that you don’t care at this moment and head out to work, debating the right way to tell your coworkers about your predicament.

When you get to work, Foggy is immediately talking to you, and you are tense.

“Foggy—” He’s not stopping. It sounds like he’s mumbling, and there’s this ringing in your ears. “Foggy, I can’t hear you.” He finally looks to you, and says something, you make it out to be a phrase of confusion. “My hearing aids died.” You tell him. You’re frustrated, and Matt isn’t in the office yet.

You deem this as a blessing and a curse. Foggy goes to tell Karen what’s going on and as you’re settling down for the day, you get a text. You hope it’s from Matt, but when you see Karen’s name, you falter slightly.

‘Hey! Foggy told me what was going on. We’ll have your calls redirected to one of us and you can spend the day doing housekeeping and paperwork.’

‘Thanks’, You respond, “Sorry about all this. I’m usually on top of my battery life.”

“Don’t worry about it. These things happen.”

“Still, thanks. Did you hear from Matt at all?”

“No, he probably just slept in late. He should be in soon.”

You try to ignore your anxieties over his absence even though you know that when he does come into the office, you’ll have to struggle to communicate with him all day.

So, for the first hour or so of your day, you try to get some work done but there’s a light ringing in your ears that’s getting worse and worse as you attempt to try and focus on other things. Everything sounds so muffled. You’re so focused that your teeth grind against each other, your muscles tense, as you attempt to try and block out the ringing in your ears.

You have a feeling that by the time you leave today, those hot frustrated tears will be threatening to pour once more.

You don’t hear Matt as he steps into your office and stands by your left side, where you’re almost completely deaf. He stands there for about ten minutes, trying to get your attention before he realizes the light buzzing of your hearing aids are not there.

You must not have them in.

So his hands find your shoulders gently, and instead of tensing, you actually relax under his touch, because you realize that it has to be Matt. A slight turning of your head confirms it and you lean into his touch.

Neither of you say much for a while, deciding to let your frustration slowly dissipate as you lean into his warm hands. They stay on your shoulders and upper arms, rubbing gentle patterns into your skin.

After a good ten minutes of this, his body shifts to your right side and he leans down, before speaking at full volume, maybe even a little louder, just to make sure you can hear him. It still sounds like he’s mumbling, but you can hear him.

“Forgot your hearing aids?”

“Batteries died.” You tell him. “You never answered me.”

“My phone died. I forgot my charger, too.. Are you gonna be okay to work all day?”

“Mhm..” You smile softly, “You’re gonna have to help answer calls, though.”

He kisses your cheek, and you lean into the warmth.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He says, a soft smile on his face.

The day goes by pretty much as you expect it. You spend it doing paperwork and dodging phone calls, your tinnitus gets worse as the day goes on. By the time the day is finally winding down, Karen sends you one final text.

“Matt’s staying a little late to catch up on some work. Want me to walk you home?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

You realize that because she and Foggy are heading home, you’ll be able to sit with Matt, maybe get a little bit of peace. You’re thankful, too, because you’re about to lose your mind over all of this. The ringing is just getting to be too much.

You wait a few minutes after Foggy and Karen head home before you go into Matt’s office. He smiles at you and gestures for you to come in, and you do. You lean against his desk, as he speaks loud enough now that you can hear him.

“I’ll just be a few more minutes, Bee.” Even the soft-spoken nickname doesn't get you out of your funk, too busy wanting to get on your hands and knees and beg God for your hearing back.

That doesn’t usually happen, but every once in a while you ask him for a normal life.

God sends you a blind man as your soulmate, because he must think that the whole thing is quite funny.

“Okay…”

You feel hot tears pooling in your eyes as you bite your tongue and dig your fingernails into your skin. You almost draw blood.

“What’s wrong?” He can tell that something is wrong. He can always tell, and you’re foolish to think anything less of him, and even more foolish to forget his super senses. A part of you bites back a bitter feeling, since you wish you could’ve had super smell, super sight, super taste, anything in exchange for your hearing. You were not given an exchange, only forced to give, with nothing in there for you.

You forget that your boyfriend has super senses and can taste and smell your salty tears and blood in the air. Damn him.

“Loud… Ringing in my ears, my tinnitus is always really bad when I don’t use my hearing aids for a while..” You say softly. “It’s just.. it really hurts...” You confess, tears slipping down your face.

“Sweetheart..” He takes off his glasses and rests them on the desk in front of him. “C’mere..” You can’t hear that last part, but the way he opens his arms gives you the hint.

You sit on his lap, burying your face in the crook of his neck with a shaky sigh. You feel the thumps of his heartbeat and hold onto it, the ringing in your ears slightly muffled by his skin. It doesn’t fix the problem, but it helps.

His hands linger on your body, gentle caresses of your knee or thigh happening here and there. He just wants you to know he’s there, in the same way he desires when everything becomes too much for him.

“”m sorry..” you say gently, and he just hushes you softly, kissing your head. He traces patterns into your skin. He traces words into it as well.

L-O-V-E.

S-W-E-E-T-H-E-A-R-T

He traces your name, his, and your last names.

You kiss him softly, realizing that you might never be 100% okay with your hearing, but Matt will help. He’ll understand. He loves you, and it’s enough to be confident in your future again.

You spend only a few minutes more in the office before you decide to head home, his hand never leaving yours.

You make it back to his apartment and Matt plugs his phone in in case you need to text him and get his attention. You wind up stealing a pair of sweatpants, a tee shirt, and a pair of fuzzy socks. The two of you wind up tangled together on his couch.

Your ear is pressed against his chest as he gently caresses your skin, occasionally moving your hair from your face. He mumbles sweet nothings, and while you can’t hear them, you feel the rumbling vibrations in his chest, and you relish in them. You bathe in the feeling of his heartbeat thumping against his skin.

You fall asleep like this, with Matt touching you and talking in this low tone to make sure you can feel the vibrations of his voice in his chest and in his throat. It’s enough just knowing he’s there. That this thing you thought would deem you unlovable is no match for Matt Murdock, who on your wedding day will throw up the sign for ‘I love you’ in ASL.

For Matt Murdock, who, when you’re taken for loving the devil, will find you and take you into his arms and kiss you so that you know he’s real.

For Matt Murdock, who touches you in all the right ways so you can hear the sounds of your own pleasure.

For Matt Murdock, who will gently trace patterns into your skin when you need to be grounded. For Matt Murdock, who feels himself slipping further and further in love with you and finds himself searching for the soft buzz of your hearing aids when you walk into the room.

#matt murdock #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murodock hurt/comfort #matt murdock angst #matt murdock imagine #daredevil fic #daredevil x reader #daredevil fanfiction #hoh!reader #hard of hearing!reader #deaf!reader #self indulgent

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thehollowwriter · 9 months

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Summary: A short story in which you do trust falls with Floyd at Camp Vargas. It's goes better than you expected.

(Please reblog and leave a comment ❤)

Trust Falls

Trust falls. Such a simple little game. A game that, no doubt, one has played with their friends before, even though it's rare anyone actually let themselves fall.

To do trustfalls with friends is a fun, silly experience. To do trustfalls with Night Raven College students is sheer madness.

You felt your soul leave your body when Vargas announced this particular camp activity would be trust falls.

You were meant to be the photographer. No worries about participating in the often grueling and exhausting activities that sports clubs were doing. However Grim, the fuzzy little bastsrd, wouldn't behave himself and as punishment for nearly burning the cottage down you were to participate in one of the activities.

One the one hand, at least trust falls were relatively easy and not too strenuous. On the other hand, you had to place your trust in one of the NRC students here. Trust. What a laugh.

You looked desperately from student to student, hurrying to find someone thst wouldn't let you drop and laugh at you when you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders.

"Heeey Shrimpy!" Came that excited, high pitched drawl you knew all too well, and you tried your hardest to fight a sigh at your bad luck.

"Hey, Floyd."

Floyd twisted you around and leaned down so that the two of you were eye level. His grin was wide and full of mischief.

"How about I be your partner, eh?" He asked, teeth glinting in the sunlight that streamed through the trees. "I won't let you fall. I promise~"

You glared at him, huffing. "Nice try." You said and tried not to blush at your closeness. "But even if by some miracle you do catch me, I'll probably be flattened like a pancake trying to catch you."

Floyd laughed at that. It was a delightful sound, not that you'd ever admit it.

"You won't!" He said, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "At least I don't think so. I can do all the catching if you want~"

You sighed. "Okay. I'll be your partner. But only if you do all the catching. Deal?"

Another laugh from him. "It's a deal~"

When the activity began, you had a sinking feeling about trusting Floyd, fully regretting the deal already. You kept stopping yourself when you leaned back, snapping forward with a sudden jerk.

Floyd, for some odd reason, didn't seem bothered by your reluctance. He just stood there, not saying a word, and watched in silent amusement in an incredibly Jade-like fashion.

A shout from Vargas diverted your attention.

"Oi! There's no doubt in trustfalls, Prefect!"

And before you could react he sent a gust of wind magic your way that knocked you backwards.

You shrieked in surprise and scrambled to wildly to stay upright to, but to no avail. Alas, the ground was your destiny.

...Until you realised you were very much not lying in the dirt. Strong hands gripped you tightly, holding you in place. Floyd pressed the back of your head against his chest and laughed.

"Told ya I'd catch you, Shrimpy."

You couldn't help but be utterly convinced that if it weren't for the Great Seven's mercy you would've exploded on the spot.

"F-Floyd..."

Floyd pulled you up and wrapped his arms around you, trapping you in a tight hug. Smiling, he leaned down and and gently kissed your cheek.

"Heh, you're so cute. More a cute lil Sea Squirt than a Shrimp~"

You flushed and heartedly pushed at him. "Floyd there are other people here-!"

"Don't care." Floyd smiled at you. A softer, more genuine smile. "I could spend forever saving you when you fall~"

-End

....................................

A/N: Shockingly, I managed to produce smt lol. Life keeps finding new ways to beat me with a hammer and I'm never on here. Take this Floyd fic as an apology, I'm so sorry. I'm also sorry if it's not very good kfkfkffk

#floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #octavinelle #octavinelle x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #fluff #one shot #twst fic #twst fluff #writing

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natsaffection · 7 months

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Hiii, im 21 years old and she/her..uuhh I like Women (and I mean Women like 30 years +) feel free to write me or just look for relaxation on my blog🫂

English is not my first language, so please point out any mistakes, thank you. 🙋🏻‍♀️

M's MASTERLIST:

Do not copy, repost, translate or claim my work as your own! Reblogs are appreciated though. <3

Most of the work is 18+ DNI, so if you’re a minor, do not interact with it!

Series:

[Natasha]: My sweet Baby. (NSFW)

• You took your long awaited four-day vacation, for which you had saved your money for two years. That you had almost no money would be an understatement. You just manage to get through your college with two part-time jobs (for which you get far too little money).So what happens when you meet the most successful CEO in the world in an unknowingly overpriced café?

[Natasha] : Mafias Mistress (NSFW)

• Your life takes a drastic turn when you accidentally meet Natasha Romanoff, who lives a mysterious and seductive life behind her facade. Despite Natasha's initial resistance, your light and attraction ignite a fiery romance that sets both your worlds on fire. But as your love grows stronger, so does the danger, especially when you discover Natasha's true identity. Surrounded now by wealth and danger, you become the new center of Natasha's universe and your bond is put to the test.

[Natasha]: I hate you!

• You were glad you escaped the hell trip. Even if it wasn't entirely your merit. You could finally smell the freedom you could only dream of before. However there was one person that disliked your presence since the moment you stepped foot on the campus. No matter what you do, you always get on her bad side. What happens when you find out the truth about her and she about you? Will her rivalry turn into your jobs or will it become something else?

[Natasha]: My sweet Student. (NSFW)

• You read and you dreamed about it. What if you fall in love with your teacher (who is also twice your age) and you can live your dream? She shows you your deepest sexual ideas and lives them out with you. On the shelf with the books and hello reality.

[Natasha]: Kingdom of secrets (NSFW)

• A story unfolds in the realm of celestria in which the younger Princess Y/n Dawn finds an unexpected connection with Lady Natasha Romanoff, the kingdom's revered and feared first female knight. Natasha, a skilled warrior known for her bravery on the battlefield and icy demeanor, is tasked by the king with protecting his daughter. As Natasha watches the princess grow, a complex and unexpected bond emerges between them that transcends the boundaries of age and status.

One shots:

[Natasha] Apologize (NSFW)

• Natasha let you apologize to her employees

[Natasha] Reward | Pt. 2 (NSFW)

• Coach! Natasha x Player! Reader

[Natasha] Happy anniversary (NSFW)

• Sugar!Mommy Natasha celebrates her anniversary with Sugar!Baby Reader

[Natasha] Together

• Sugar!Mommy Natasha is helping you through exams

[Natasha] Oh, Baby.. (NSFW)

• You break Natasha’s first rule. (NSFW)

[Natasha]: Afraid of loosing you.

• Natasha is your girlfriend of two years and is always overprotective over you. So what happens when you both get under an attack which priority it is to kill the black widow?

[Natasha]: Teacher!Nat x Teacher!Reader

• In a school where Prof!Natasha and Prof!Reader teach different languages, they have quite the contrasting reputations. Despite their differences, Natasha and Reader engage in playful flirting at work..

[Natasha]: Cure (NSFW)

• You got infected with the sex pollen and a red haired ..acquaintance offers to help you.

[Natasha]: Distraction (NSFW)

• Smutty hate sex with Boss!natasha and her assistant

[Hidden]: Natasha learns the real you (NSFW)

• Natasha gets to know the real you.

[Wandanat]: Unholy (NSFW)

• Wanda is a stripper and Nat took an interest in her

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha smut #natasha romanov x reader #nat x reader #dom!natasha x reader #natasha romanov smut

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thecoolblackwaves · 3 months

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Family Of Nerds: Feanorian Modern AU

(I’m sorry this is somewhat Americanized I just don’t have enough knowledge about anywhere else to make those allusions) (Also please reblog with your own headcanons or other thoughts!)

Feanor

Philologist; studies language history

Often assists at various museums, colleges, archeological sites, etc

Has published several books and given many lectures

Creates his own languages like Tengwar for fun, also is a hobby blacksmith

Teaches his children many archaic languages no one else speaks and takes his family on "educational" vacations

Also attends every convention known to man, even ones that have seemingly nothing to do with his own interests, dressed to the nines and spends his time there signing books and debating other people

Loves his wife just as madly as the day he met her and is ecstatic he married his high school sweetheart

Idolizes his father. Would have done great following his political career if he hadn't "ruined" his public image by becoming a teen parent, ultimately feels he's made the right decisions for his life though and is happy with his work

Rivalry with Fingolfin over who can host the best dinner party (and you best believe he wears smart-ass punny aprons while cooking a six course meal for his guests)

Nerdanel

Professional sculptor and multimedia artist

Teaches classes at an arts college

Is known to eat the fruit out of the bowls her students are sketching when no one is looking

Cannot cook to save her life

Enthusiastically attends every possible event in her family’s calendar no matter the weather or lack of skill at a toddler dance recital

Dresses in a fabulously bohemian eccentric artist way; stole the show when she attended the Grammys with Makalaure and has been featured in several fashion magazines

Carries all sorts of art supplies and seemingly random tools in her purse at all times, including a chisel, googly eyes, edible glitter, a bajillion hair ties, DW40, and peanut M&Ms

Has a calm, wise disposition that belies her truly chaotic nature

Often looked to for advice from her students and children and will only pull your leg when she thinks you’re being stupid

Does give genuinely good advice though, mostly because she is uncanny in her ability to read people and observe subtle hints

Maitimo

Studied communications, currently working as his father’s apprentice but hopes to find a position as a public relations specialist

Uses his intimidating stature and loud, deep voice to his advantage as needed

Was born while his parents were teenagers and still living with their families, he remembers watching cartoons with Grandpa Finwe and being babysat by his uncles

Also attended his mother’s graduation from art school as a small child and clapped until his little hands hurt

Is painfully aware of how all his younger brothers look up to him - literally - and sometimes struggles with the pressures of setting a good example, though he does much better than he realizes

Drinks his coffee from a mug that reads “don’t make this ginger snap” (Nerdanel has a matching one)

The gayest gay to ever gay, informs everyone of this via cheesy tee shirts gifted from his brothers and cousins

Drives a minivan, claims he chose it because it was the only car that would fit his legs and not because he can haul his brothers around in it

Frequently complains about missing the technology of his childhood but resents being called a millennial

Makalaure

Grammy award winning artist and composer

Created the score for a recent movie that bloomed his popularity and brought him to the limelight

Has a Youtube channel with several music videos he definitely didn’t blackmail his family into filming with him

Also performed on Broadway once and will not let you forget it

Used to skip school to busk in the train station and once caught his math teacher also skipping school

Extremely popular with interviewers, camera crew, and other industry specialists for his kindness and crazy stories about his family

Donates large amounts of his royalties to children’s hospitals and other charities

Used to hog the bathroom in the mornings to put on makeup and style his hair

Practices Beyonce dance routines in the mirror, has convinced Curufin to do them with him before

Spent a semester studying in Sydney, Australia and fainted after encountering a large spider in his dorm room

Tyelkormo

Forest ranger at a National Park

Works at outdoor summer camps every year, all the children love him and his giant fluffy dog

Also volunteers at animal shelters and the wildlife rehabilitation center at the National Park

Creatine for breakfast, lunch, and dinner; drinks so much milk Nerdanel used to tell him it was why his hair was white

Wakes up at 5 in the morning to exercise (disgusting)

Got a long bow for Christmas one year (the note said Santa but he knows it was his mom) and practices in the backyard by shooting at Amrod’s pumpkins

Metalhead, particularly likes viking metal and Nordic black metal

Made Huan his own battle vest complete with dog-themed patches such as “Bad to the Bone” and “No Leashes No Masters”

Tells the most terrible jokes you’ve ever heard then laughs like a seagull vomiting up a stolen bag of Doritos

Extremely loyal to his family, sometimes to a fault

Carnistar

Professional business accountant

Also does taxes as a side hustle because “it’s so easy”

Is obsessed with Oreos but will not admit it because of his brother's teasing about "Moryo's Oreos"

Obligatory family goth and not ashamed of it

Started mending his hand-me-down clothes as a necessity and got into sewing, now makes fantastic garments for his family and friends to wear

Halloween is the only valid holiday, he spends the entire year making his costume (it’s usually a vampire or some fandom character)

Stays up until 3am gaming on a PC he and Feanor built together one summer, favorite game is currently Balder’s Gate

Had to take speech therapy as a child and later some anger management classes.... because he got too good at expressing himself

Curufin

Silversmith and jewelry maker

Specializes in accessories for ballet dancers and other performers

Ballet dancer since he was young, never succeeded with a professional career but still practices daily and chose his specialty to remain part of the scene

Holds a serious grudge against certain critics that failed his entry to ballet academy (will not sell his products to them or their schools)

Always looking for new business opportunities, not always in the most honest of ways

Struggles with self esteem issues

Has several cats and claims they betray him when they snuggle with Huan but secretly finds it adorable

Frequently collaborates with Caranthir to make elaborate costumes just for the fun of it

Made a tiara for his favorite cat, Princess Paws

Would sleep until four in the afternoon if you let him (or if Princess Paws didn’t wake him up screaming for food)

Amrod

Gardening Club President at his school

Started a trade and barter farmers market after school to reduce waste and share the bounty of his and fellow club member’s gardens

Frequently tries to convince his parents to turn their property into a “self sufficient homestead”, leaves pamphlets and pictures of adorable baby animals lying around the house

Enlisted the help of his twin and Maitimo to build a chicken coop, forgot to ask Feanor’s permission first

Demands payment in the form of fresh caught fish or deer jerky for the use of his gourds in Tyelko’s target practice

Has definitely switched places with Amros to escape trouble or science tests

Often neglects his homework for pursuits he feels are more important, will only do it without complaint when Carnistar tells him to

Had eyes for the cool-looking red glow on the stove as a child and was banned from the kitchen for most of his adolescence

Is generally a persistent and stubborn person (wonder where he got it from)

Amros

Amateur photographer with an instagram following nearing one million

Account consists of 95% nature photography and 5% “The Adventures of Huan and Princess Paws” as he follows them around the back yard

Takes all of Makalaure’s headshots and creates his album covers, also photographs Curufin’s jewelry to upload to his retail website

“Borrows” Carnistar’s prized PC to upload and edit his photos

Conspired with Amrod to convince their elementary school classmates they were secretly Fred and George Weasley disguised as Muggles, ultimately failed because someone thought their accents “just sounded like they were copying Peppa Pig”

Still pulls out his British accent on occasion when someone needs cheering up

Inherited Nerdanel’s keen observation skills, mostly uses them to blackmail his brothers into doing his chores

But also gives the most amazing presents because he knows exactly what everyone truly wants

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essektheylyss · 5 months

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Ten Books to Know Me

@aboxthecolourofheartache reblogged her version of this from ages ago but she'd tagged whoever saw it and it sounds very fun and difficult so let's do it!

Tris's Book by Tamora Pierce - I had a habit as a kid of always picking up the second book in a series, so this was the first of Tamora Pierce's books I read. Emelan had an effect on me on a microcosmic level, I'm pretty sure. Anyway, the protag of a whole world of mine is named Tris now, in homage to Trisana Chandler, so. the particulate is still kicking around in my brain.

Ptolemy's Gate by Jonathan Stroud - Another childhood FAVE. This series as a whole started fucking with what I understood a book to be. Also the ending of it has a vice grip on me to this day, and it is probably why so much of my writing is very vibey and favors ambiguous endings.

Cyrano de Bergerac - This was the first assigned reading I had in high school that I utterly LOVED. I love this play so much, I love the tragedy, I love the quiet sorrow. This was also the first proper tragedy that I remember really loving.

The Opposite of Loneliness by Marina Keegan - This is a book of poetry and short stories by a Yale creative writing student who was killed in a car crash very soon after graduating, compiled by her professor after her death. I read it repeatedly in college; it is really quite lovely.

Underland by Robert Macfarlane - Apologies to Box who wanted reading recommendations, but she is who introduced me to this book if I remember correctly, and I have spent the two years since I read it habitually picking up Macfarlane's writing without even realizing it. Absolutely phenomenal writing.

Staying with the Trouble by Donna Haraway - @ professor Haraway I know you are a semi-retired scholar and also in the most expensive college town on earth but are you looking for research assistants cuz uh

The Mushroom at the End of the World by Anna Tsing - I actually read both Staying with the Trouble and this book on the same weekend in the start of 2021. I compromised on not including Entangled Life by Merlin Sheldrake, which I felt was very cliche of me, by including this book, which had as much of an effect. Read those three and Pantheologies by Mary-Jane Rubenstein and you will have some semblance of an idea of what the spiritual portion of my brain looks like. In the interest of not writing the same blurb four times I left the latter two off but know they make up a little microcosm of 'you could make a religion out of this' for me.

The Cat Who Saved Books by Sosuke Natskukawa - A Japanese novel about a cat who appears to a teenager after the death of his grandfather, a bookseller. I read it when I was very frustrated with trying to read contemporary fiction and it was a bright spot among that. (I am still very frustrated with the state of contemporary fiction and this book remains a light.)

Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer - Okay I read this one most recently out of this list (over the summer) but it had been on my list for a long time and it really does live up to the hype because it is just so luminous in every sense.

Annihilation by Jeff Vandermeer - I had to put this one last simply because HOLY HELL. Rewired my brain. This is the goal I aspire to, this is the dream I dream, this is the highest peak among the mountain range of writing aspirations that I climb. If I can one day write anything even akin to the Southern Reach trilogy I will be ready to die, but that is an utterly unachievable goal so God's just gonna have to let me live forever, I guess.

#this was SO difficult I'm ngl #I had several more that I agonized over #the fact that there is no le guin on this? insanity. but regardless #also there were some that I didn't include cuz I read them too recently and didn't want to go too hard with the recency bias but #if anyone has read both underland and braiding sweetgrass 'the language of trees' features both authors and is STUNNING #megs is reading #also everyone read the alan dean foster novelization of star trek (2009). that was the other one from my childhood that hit so hard

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teabutmakeitazure · 1 month

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Zuri's Declassified University Survival Guide

This is a post about survival tips in university (undergraduate), especially if you're an international student living alone in a different country in this circumstance. I will be adding onto this later on if there's something I want to add, so keep an eye out for update reblogs of this I guess.

General Tips:

it's okay to make mistakes. you are here to learn and grow. no one is perfect, especially in the first and second year of their studies. those are mandatory experimental years. you're not expected to get magically mature and perfect when you get to university (or college for you americans). be kind to yourself and analyse your mistakes instead of beating yourself over them.

don't bother too much about your wardrobe. just wear whatever's comfortable. you might think people care but no one does. more than half of the people at campus will be in sweats or pyjamas and if someone IS dressed up, they're probably arts kids or business majors and they're the ones with the least workload (yes i am dissing you guys I've seen your workloads stop lying).

put yourself in uncomfortable social situations. yes i said that. the only reason i somewhat learnt to make small talk and learnt to talk to strangers is because I go to every single social event that I can. it's not necessary to make friends in all of them. just talk to people, exchange contacts, laugh while the event lasts even if you never see them again. this is how you survive in the lonely dorm life. and if you make an actual good friend? amazing! it paid off. even if it didn't you'll probably network and build rapport and have acquaintances from different majors.

if you're an ethnic minority, don't be afraid. I cannot stress this enough. don't be afraid to be there and take up space. you are there because you deserve to be and qualified. sure, it sucks at times because a good amount of people won't interact with you because you're 'different' but the international students will and trust me they're the coolest bunch to be friends with (I have 0 such friends so far). most times you will have to take the initiative to talk and sometimes they won't respond or worse flat out ignore you but don't let that get you down. just don't interact with them again. the world is big. not everyone will like you and accept you. find the ones that will.

eggs and milk are your best friend. a glass of milk everyday and 2 eggs. make that a staple. eggs are also very versatile for recipes. more on that in the recipes section. also yoghurt. a smol cup of yoghurt everyday too and nuts whenever you can buy them.

always have a few pack of instant noodles at home. sometimes you have deadlines or you forgot to cook or need a quick dinner because there's so much to do and you didn't get groceries. always keep them in stock. they're a quick fix for food. I'm not promoting them for frequent dinner but it's better than starving. just eat the noodles man. there's already so much shit to keep track of just eat the damn noodles.

incorporate veggies into everything food. they're good for you. if you're like me and don't like veggies, experiment with different recipes and find the one you like best. one good way is fried rice or rice with mushrooms, veggies, and meat in the rice cooker (I don't own a rice cooker when I'm writing this). just eat your veggies and thank me later. if you don't wanna cut them up, get a pack of frozen veggies. it's better than nothing. baby steps.

meal plan. if I don't plan my entire week's food on sunday night, I do it the night before for the next day. eat out as less as you can. homemade is better even if you're a horrible cook. practice makes perfect and you'll be grateful for learning a few basic cooking skills along with your degree later on. cooking your own food also gives you the liberty to add more veggies or save money.

treat yourself to stuff sometimes. yes you deserve it even if you don't meet your goals. you're trying. be kind to yourself. get that boba.

study everything done the week by that week's weekend. do the day's content that same day and don't lag behind. utilise reading week and read. don't slack off please I'm begging you. I'll even get on my knees if I have to.

you're gonna miss home and it sucks. yes you will be having your fourth mental breakdown of the week on a wednesday night and you will be alone or hiding under the blanket as your roommate is asleep. you're gonna have to tough it out soldier. I see you and I feel you. it gets easier with time and when you're doing better, you'll feel relieved for toughing through. it's so lonely sometimes and it sucks but it's worth the pain. don't lose hope.

seniors are your friends. they will give you forbidden knowledge for free. from hidden places with good food or convenience things or just life advice exclusive to your institute, they have it all. they're also generally very friendly so don't be afraid to interact with them.

annoy the living hell out of your professor during office hours if need be and utilise the student help room for help. your tutors will be happy to help you so don't be shy to ask for help. they will appreciate you coming to them, trust me. as for your professor, they're lonely people. go to office hours if you need to, chat, ask them what you need. they'll appreciate your presence and happily help you.

the security guards and cleaning staff will be witnesses to your worst states (freshly out of bed or haven't showered in 2 days) but they don't care. they're just happy to be of service and have you around. be kind to them. greet them whenever you pass by.

sometimes coffee is bad.

if your classes start at noon or later, get an hour of exercise in the morning at around 8 or 9 am. the serotonin that will hit you will be unreal. trust me.

make local friends. they're cool people and friendly and very helpful and accommodating. I may be biased but it's true.

being a student helper, student tutor, or a research assistant looks good on your resume and helps you win more scholarships.

put headphones on when in public if you don't want to end up talking to someone you might bump into. it works.

your body also has rights. treat it with care. don't abuse it. nourish it. you should take care of your body like you would a loved one. feed it good things, clean it everyday, and so on. when you feel good by taking care of yourself, you still do better and feel more confident. wash your hair with a set schedule and use good products.

make your wardrobe easier. hang your usual shirts and maybe wear the one in front each day, the previous day's being hung in the back or in the laundry basket. it saves time.

there's no shame in not having stuff. I still don't own a proper laundry basket it all goes into an IKEA bag. you live in a dorm, not a house. sometimes not having every single kind of furniture or accessory isn't bad. don't compare your setup to others. if it's convenient, clean, and homey, it's good. you don't need those expensive lights or those expensive posters to make it seem cool. what you have and what you may collect among the way is enough.

notes on paper are better than laptop or ipad

take breaks. be kind to yourself. it is you for yourself. treat yourself with love.

manage your time by designating time blocks to a certain task. it might not always work but it will help create some discipline in the routine.

having a set everyday routine helps. you don't have to think what to do, thus saving you brain power.

use a semester planner for deadlines and important information. it's useful. I highly recommend. I also have a template if anyone wants.

write down your thoughts, what's bothering you, your feelings, everything on a piece of paper or journal at the end of the day. it'll help process your emotions and you won't have to let the thoughts and emotions fester inside you, slowly simmering and coming to a boil. remember, you are your best friend.

Recipes to help you stay afloat (they're all quick and easy dw):

right off the bat I want to say boiled jasmine rice with sunny side up eggs. you drizzle a pinch of salt onto the yolk, break it over the rice, mix it with the rice and eat it and it's just *chef's kiss*. definitely a comfort food and a very easy quick dinner.

a lot of these I found while scrolling through instagram and some are from when I was trying to lose weight. hope they're helpful!

oyakodon

one pot rice cooker rice with veggies

veggie and meat single serve in one pot

chicken wrap (primarily for weight loss I think)

chicken gyros (this guy makes amazing food)

minced meat weight loss meal prep

chickpeas (chana masala. this shit is bussin i swear)

something tomato + onion + egg

one pot veggie rice (recommended)

chicken shawarma (not dorm friendly cooking but looks delicious)

egg sandwich in one pan

potato marraka (THIS IS SO GOOD)

one pot rice cooker with meat and veggies

daal

chicken and rice

pizza style chicken wrap

five different chicken marinades for meal prep

one pot biryani

takeout style egg fried rice

rice cooker carbonara

one pot yoghurt curry chicken rice

weight loss chicken shawarma

healthier mac and cheese

chicken fajita

chicken tikka masala crunch tacos

one pan braised eggs

air fryer garlic bread pizza

another veggie and rice in rice cooker

fried rice recipe

hainanese inspired chicken rice in rice cooker

tomato orzo(?)

creamy tomato pasta

tomato and egg rice

mushroom sauce (can be eaten with rice)

creamy tomato tortellini

grilled cheese sandwich

#yes im referring to ned's declassified school survival guide #damn i miss that show #this is more for myself than anyone else #i got to compile all the recipes with this as an excuse nice #anyway hope this helped #i know I'm a yandere writing blog but i can also be helpful sometimes #zuri's declassified university survival guide #took me 2 hours but meh #college tips #university tips

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jeonqkooks · 2 years

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our beloved summer | jjk (01)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

genre/warnings: exes au, college au (in flashbacks), fluff, angst, eventual smut, kissing, swearing

rating: PG-13

word count: 8.4k

note: OKAY SHE IS FINALLY HERE. i am so nervous about this oh god i will hide in my bedroom and never come out again. anyway umm obviously all the technical stuff about music producing and album making comes from google so! blame google if i get things wrong about music making lol

playlist | series masterpost

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

The movies lied—college really isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. Who even has the time to constantly go drinking and clubbing, deliver assignments on time, maintain a social life, all the while be expected to have a blooming love life? Definitely not you, and not when there’s a pain in your ass by the name of Jeon Jungkook.

The douchebag in your music theory class who’s always trying to one up you.

To be fair, he’s not a bad person (probably), but he’s just so goddamn annoying.

It’s only your first semester, but you’ve already found a sworn enemy in Jungkook. The funny thing is, you and him share the same circle, and your friends all adore him to bits.

Curse Kim Taehyung for bringing you into this mess.

(You got a job at the campus library nearly halfway into the semester, and that’s where you met Taehyung, a fellow part-time librarian and full-time stressed out college student. Though your majors and interests don’t exactly align—he’s studying Art History while you’re pursuing a Music degree—you somehow hit it off and he became your first real friend at college.

Taehyung introduced you to Jimin, his roommate, who then brought in someone that you recognized from class named Hoseok but had never really talked to before and… tragically for you, the bane of your existence, Jeon Jungkook.)

At every party and get-together that Taehyung drags you to, Jungkook is there. There was a part of you that hoped he was only an asshole to you because you two had been competing for first place in class, and it wouldn’t have mattered that much if the person with the highest GPA wasn’t given the opportunity to intern at an up-and-coming record label where one of the executives was old friends with your professor.

Neither of you got it in the end; the professor said you and Jungkook had too much “unhealthy” competition going on and decided to bestow the honor upon the third highest ranked in class which was Hoseok. (Okay, that was good for him, but still.)

Anyway, even outside of academia, Jungkook is insufferable only toward you while he’s a ray of sunshine to literally everybody else. You’ve seen him interact with other people, and you’ve witnessed how his attitude completely switches up when it comes to you. No, whenever he talks to you, sweet and bubbly Jungkook immediately morphs into a cocky and patronizing version of the man.

He probably thinks he’s so much better than you just because he happens to have a great singing voice (not that you would ever admit this to him) and you can’t belch out a single note to save your life. But newsflash buddy! Not every music major has to end up a singer.

Taehyung, Jimin, and even Hoseok have assured you that Jungkook doesn’t hate you, but who are they to say? They’ve never received the same treatment as you.

“On Earth, We’re Briefly Gorgeous?” You skim the cover and quirk an eyebrow. “Huh. I didn’t know you’re into stuff like this, Jeon.”

He isn’t. Though he was surprised that the school library even had a shelf for contemporary autobiographies, the only reason he borrowed it was because Taehyung mentioned in passing that it’s one of your favorite books.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me,” he mumbles under his breath, which you don’t catch.

When Jungkook lingers, you look at him in confusion. “I already know who you are. You don’t have to give me your student ID. You can go.”

“You should, uh, check if I damaged the book or something.”

“Did you?” you narrow your eyes at him.

“No, no… I mean– Just do it, will you?”

Rolling your eyes in annoyance, you reach for the book but his hand shoots out to stop you. “Not right now,” he stammers. “Later.”

What the hell are you doing? You want to bark at him, but it’s nearly 9 o’clock and this tiresome day has drained the life out of you.

After you finished your last exam this morning, all you wanted was to go back to your room and get some much needed rest. But alas, the universe had different plans. Taehyung begged you to cover his shift at the library because the dumbass messed up the dates and bought his bus ticket home today instead of tomorrow to visit his family. You’d do anything for your friends so naturally you said yes, at the expense of your physically deteriorating form.

Right now, you just want to teleport to your dorm and sleep till the sun swallows up the Earth. “Fine,” you grumble, not having the energy to deal with whatever Jungkook’s schtick is, “anything else?”

He purses his lips, glances between you and the book, then shakes his head. He taps his fingers lightly against the wooden desk between you, like he wants to say something else but doesn’t know how to verbalize the words. If you weren’t so tired, maybe you’d even make fun of him for getting his panties in such a twist.

“Okay, um,” he says finally and turns to leave, “goodnight then.”

You only hum and wave a disinterested hand at his retreating form, not caring that he can’t see you. Leaning back against the chair that offers you zero lumbar support and has been killing your back for the past few hours, you groan loudly.

The library barely had anyone coming in today, probably because finals were over and everyone was either recovering from nights lost to exam preparation, or out drinking to celebrate the end of the semester. You highly doubt there would be anyone dropping by ten minutes before closing time, so you push yourself to your feet and start to gather your things.

After entering Jungkook’s name into the computer and ticking his borrowed book as ‘returned’, you flip through it boredly per his request.

A piece of yellow paper slips from the pages and falls to the floor. When you go to pick it up, you freeze at the sight of a neatly scripted line in black ink. Surprise (or perhaps shock would be a better word) parts the fog in your brain.

Dinner this Saturday? – JK

The next afternoon, Jungkook comes back to the library with no book to return nor a need to borrow a new one.

“Hey,” he gives you an awkward wave as he approaches, “how’s it going?”

You give him a small smile in greeting that you know must look weird and manufactured. Never in your few months of knowing him have you ever smiled at him on purpose. “Fine, thanks.”

“Did you, um, check the book?”

You stiffen, and this makes him stiffen. Jungkook knows you saw it.

Do you say yes? No? What’s the best course of action here? What did he even mean? Why would he ask you out for dinner? What does he want? Why was he acting so self-conscious about it? God, why isn’t Taehyung here to help you through this crisis?

Your lips tighten into a thin line as you contemplate your plan. Jungkook has never seemed shy around you. Maybe he’s just trying to be nice because all your friends are home to see their families, and you and him are the only ones who aren’t. Maybe he just pities you because he thinks you might be lonely.

“Yes,” you decide.

“And?” he prompts, growing more nervous by the second. What is up with this guy?

“Do you need to talk about something over dinner?”

“No, not really,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “I just want to hang out with you, one on one. Get to know each other better, y’know…”

“Just the two of us?” you narrow your eyes at him skeptically. “Are you… asking me on a date?” That can’t be possible, right? But then, he was acting weird when he was returning the book. And he’s here again now, anxiously glancing between you and the door like he’s ready to bolt any second.

You can’t figure out what it means.

Is he messing with you? Is it all part of his plan to trick you into dressing up for him only to stand you up and humiliate you? He’s annoying, but you’ve never thought of him as someone who would do such a thing.

No… Jungkook might be the most irritating prick on the planet but he’s not that douchey.

“Yes?” he doesn’t sound so sure of it. He looks like he’s summoning the ground to swallow him whole under your scrutinizing gaze. “I mean,” he adds in a small voice, “if you want...”

It isn’t that you don’t find Jungkook attractive. God knows that man is blessed with looks that people dream about, but you suppose the hostility between you two has distracted you from that fact. Irritation eclipses attraction.

But that irritation is nowhere to be found now, not even an inkling. There’s mostly perplexity, and that certainly isn’t enough to trick you into thinking that Jungkook isn’t one of the most handsome men you’ve laid eyes on.

You can’t think properly in this stupefied state. The words slip out before you can make sense of the whole situation. “Sure, yeah, okay.”

Jungkook looks just as surprised as you are once you realize what you just said. Your eyes widen and your lips part. You should definitely take it back, this is absurd! Where’s your goddamn voice when you need it?

“Yeah? It’s a date?” he asks, gazing down at you with those stupid doe eyes that you haven’t fully taken in until now. They compel you to nod.

“Yeah… it’s a date.”

What is happening?

A few seconds pass, and part of you thinks he’ll start laughing in the middle of the library but you’d be the one embarrassed.

Instead, Jungkook gives you a big bunny grin that has you startled. You’ve never been on the receiving end of it before, having gotten used to his arrogant smirk and condescending tone the entire semester. But this is clearly something you didn’t expect. It’s kind of… beautiful, actually.

Before you can react, he’s already headed for the door. He waves enthusiastically, nerves seemingly gone now, and calls out in a loud voice that you would usually frown at and shush people for. “I’ll text you!”

What if it ends up a huge disaster? Well, then you suppose you’d go back to hating each other and forget the whole thing happened. But there’s a possibility even worse that you can’t even begin to fathom right now. If it goes well, would there be another date?

What should you wear? What’s a good outfit that doesn’t make it seem like you’re trying too hard? It’s January though, should you sacrifice warmth for fashion? Where’s that pair of lace underwear that you bought last month–

Wait, why do you care?

God, why is this happening?

You were definitely overthinking this. These were the questions plaguing your every waking moment since that day at the library until this afternoon, a couple hours before your… date. Your brain went haywire the moment he left the library and evidently, it didn’t get a chance to calm down.

(When you called to tell Taehyung about it after the realization that you would actually be going on a date with Jungkook hit you like a truckload of bricks, your friend gasped and mumbled to himself something you couldn’t quite catch over the phone, something about owing money to someone.)

In the end, you settled on a fitted sweater and your favorite winter coat. Mostly because Jungkook showed up right on time and you spent too long fussing over the possibilities to think of anything else to wear.

It was awkward at first with neither of you knowing how to act. What’s a girl gotta do on a date with her arch nemesis? No one writes guides on these kinds of things, not even Buzzfeed. You actually considered shaking his hand when you saw him, but he pulled you into a loose hug before you could do anything else.

Throughout the evening, he felt like a stranger. It wasn’t the Jungkook that you’d been used to, the one who constantly volunteered to make your life a living hell.

No, tonight you were with a different Jungkook. You laughed with each other, smiled at each other, let your hand intentionally brush the other’s but never gathered enough courage to actually lace them together. There was still banter, but not the kind that you hated.

There was no trace of the jerk who always irritated you to no end and instead, Jungkook was softer, incredibly sweeter and thoughtful. You felt like you were meeting him for the first time.

It was refreshing, but also… disheartening? These past few months, you could’ve liked him rather than despise him had he shown this side of himself to you. You suppose that’s a question for another occasion; you don’t want to risk turning the mood sour.

Now, as he’s walking you back to your dorm, only one question lingers on your mind.

“Tonight was actually… really nice,” you admit shyly.

He laughs softly then. “Did you expect it to crash and burn?”

“Yes,” your lack of hesitation only spurs on his chortles. He sounds like he could be an Elmo impersonator.

Once the laughter dies down, you’re left staring at each other in front of your building. The mid January cold bites at your exposed skin, making you shiver lightly and your nose redden. Your skin heats up for a reason other than the wind.

“We’re here,” you say, lamely pointing to the front door. “Guess I should head inside…”

You watch Jungkook visibly gulp as he nods, eyes locking onto yours for a brief second before his gaze falls to the ground, then back to your face again.

You haven’t gone out with someone in a while, but you still know what should happen now.

Will he kiss you? Do you want him to kiss you? Wow, you think. You never imagined there would come a day where you would have to ponder about something like this. Taehyung would be hounding you for days if he got to pick your brain right now. Oh One Direction, just how fast the night changes indeed…

Jungkook takes a step closer and your heart involuntarily picks up a couple beats. When he leans down, it has your stomach doing somersaults. But the tingly sensation is soon replaced with disappointment when you feel his lips press against your cheek.

Damn.

“Goodnight,” he smiles when he pulls away.

You’re sure you look flushed, but it isn’t something that can’t be easily blamed on the cold. You return his smile and bid him a safe walk home before turning toward your dorm.

Once there’s some distance between you and Jungkook, you can’t help but ghost your fingers over the spot where his lips were.

Goddamn. God damn him, god damn those stupid lips and god damn those stupid eyes.

This isn’t how you imagined you would spend your semester break. The moment you set foot in your room, you know you’ll begin to analyze every single detail that happened over the last few hours. You had a good time, but didn’t he? Is that why he only pecked your cheek like you were his grandma?

Oh God, not to mention the way your heart dropped when he didn’t kiss you. On the mouth! Jeon Jungkook!

As you riffle through your cluttered purse to fetch your keycard with an even more cluttered mind, a hand lands on your shoulder. Instinctively, you gasp and jerk away.

Naturally, your heels are your downfall in this moment of hasty panic. Your purse drops to the ground as your arms flail in the air. Seconds feel like hours as you await the impending collision between your butt and the asphalt, though it never comes.

The hand that was on your shoulder is clutching your arm tightly to keep you upright. It might leave a bruise tomorrow, but at least it’s the only thing keeping you from falling ass first right now.

“Shit! I’m sorry, that was so stupid,” Jungkook stutters as he helps you steady yourself. “I called your name but you didn’t respond.”

He should be the one embarrassed, but somehow you are. When he picks up your purse and hands it to you, the awkwardness from earlier returns. You’re staring at each other again; whoever is watching the security cameras must be having a blast.

You clear your throat. “Oh, I must’ve been… thinking. Did you, uh, need anything else?”

“No,” he mutters as he fumbles with his fingers. “No, I…”

Okay, this just took a turn for the worse. This is going to be what you fixate on for the rest of the break—how you almost fell on your ass in front of Jeon Jungkook, because of Jeon Jungkook.

He seems to be having a different kind of dilemma than you though. He still has an apologetic look on his face, but he shakes his head a little more harshly than necessary, as if that would erase what just happened from existence. He clasps his hands together firmly, like he’s about to give you a sales pitch.

Fuck it, Jungkook thinks, now or never.

“I chickened out earlier,” he says and loops an arm around your waist, tugging you closer and effectively making you gasp at the suddenness. His other hand brushes your hair from your face and settles on your cheek, the one he kissed only minutes prior. “I wanted to do this.”

He leans down for the second time tonight, and this time you know what’s coming. More importantly, you know you want it to happen. Your faces are so close that you can see the small scar on his cheek; your fingers itch to trace that line of his skin. You hope there’ll be another time for that.

Still, he doesn’t kiss you just yet. He waits a moment to see if you’d pull away and when you don’t, he just smiles. Like he can’t believe this is finally happening.

His pillowy lips meet yours in a tentative greeting. It’s slow at first, you’re both just testing the waters.

A goodbye to your old dynamic now that a line has been crossed and you two can never go back to the way it was. A hello to a new beginning and to the seeds that it’s planting in your chest, right beside your heart.

His body wraps around you as his mouth envelopes your own, everything is just a little surreal that you get lightheaded. It’s kind of… nice, and you tell yourself it’s the heat radiating off his body that’s making you feel this warm.

When you pull apart, you would’ve thought it was a fever dream if it wasn't for the blush that colored his cheeks. His lips are shiny from the kiss, and his eyes are still glued to your mouth.

Okay, so maybe there are two things you’ll never forget about today: How you almost fell on your ass, and how he kissed you.

He laughs breathlessly to himself and pulls you closer, resting his forehead against yours while you remain speechless.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since your presentation on tonal systems.”

Eight Years Later

Wednesday. The absolute worst day of the week.

You can’t even remember what made you hate Wednesdays so much, but you always feel a sense of dread whenever the middle of the week rolls around. Maybe it’s because every bad news you’ve received in your life has mostly been delivered on a Wednesday. That’s why you never work, or do anything really, on this day, and given that you don’t have a traditional 9-to-5 job, it gives you more leeway to skip work anyway. It’s your own self-care day, where you allow yourself to stop worrying about anything and just be.

Nothing bad can happen if you don’t let it, right? (It’s definitely not a logical plan, but whatever, let’s just entertain this.)

When the incessant rings of your doorbell echo throughout your apartment at 7:56 on this—surprise, surprise—Wednesday morning, you already know it can’t be anything good.

Your sleep-hazed brain doesn’t allow you much to work with. It’s too early for deliveries, and all of your friends and co-workers know better than to bother you on Hump Day, least of all in the morning at that. So when you throw open your door, ready to tear a new one into this godforsaken person who woke you up from your slumber, never would you ever expect to see a ghost from your past standing in front of you. Not in a million years—because it has been years, hasn’t it?

No, not a ghost—the ghost, one who has been haunting you since the summer of your college graduation.

Him. In the flesh. In a simple black blazer thrown over a t-shirt but still looking every bit like the sun on the day he left you. Jeon Jungkook.

You must still be dreaming, right? There’s no reason for him to show up at your door after all these years of radio silence and oh yeah, especially after he—once the keeper of your heart—crushed it into pieces and even went the extra mile to cut it up like finely-chopped garlic, and left you. Besides, how does he even know where you live now? There is absolutely no reason for him to be here. It must be the bottle of rosé you wholeheartedly chugged last night while rewatching Goblin. That’s right, this is just a figment of your worst imaginatio–

“Long time no see, stranger.”

You almost jump. Oh no, it speaks. Was your wine laced with hallucinogens? Your brows knit together and your lips part in bewilderment.

In this nightmare of yours, he looks good. Jungkook always did manage to look effortlessly handsome even if he had just rolled out of bed. Still the same pillowy pink lips, same sparkling doe eyes boring into yours. His hair is styled differently, in an unfamiliar way that you’ve only been acquainted with through the photos that he gets tagged in online. He’s back to his black hair though, with zero traces of the blond head that he sported last year. You never did get a chance to see what it looked like in real life, but once in college, you and him had laughed about the possibility of him dyeing his hair golden and how it would look so terrible. That didn’t turn out to be the case, obviously.

It’s not until the figure in front of you snaps his fingers that you realize you’ve been gaping for the past few minutes. You reach a hand out to poke him in the shoulder, and you almost gasp when he doesn’t dissipate into thin air.

What the fuck.

Jungkook only chuckles. “Aren’t you gonna invite me in?”

You let yourself gape at him for another minute before you speak. “Why are you here? How do you know where I live?”

“A little birdy told me,” he smiles, but soon gives up when you remain unimpressed. “Fine, it was Tae.”

Taehyung, that fucking traitor. You make a mental note to send him a very strongly worded letter.

You exhale in annoyance. “Get to the point. What do you want?”

“So…” he starts, rubbing his hands together as he looks at you, “I’m assuming you know Jin, right?”

“Jin? Kim Seokjin?” you stare at him like he’s stupid. “Global superstar Jin? Two-time Grammy nominee Jin? Turned-down-an-offer-to-be-in-a-Bond-soundtrack Jin? The guy with the face of a Greek God and the voice of an angel? That Jin?”

He pokes a tongue into his cheek, a very Jungkook thing that you haven’t seen in a very long time. He used to do that when he was annoyed or jealous, and to be fair, they often overlapped. “Yeah, that Jin.”

“Sure,” you shrug, “I’ve heard of him.”

“Well, I’m producing his new album. No, I should be producing his new album, and…”

You raise an eyebrow, shooting him a pointed look. And? C’mon, out with it.

“He’ll only sign with us if… if we get you on board as the primary songwriter.”

If it were anyone else saying this to you, you probably would’ve jumped up and down in pure excitement and called every single person you know to brag about the international pop sensation wanting to work with you. Snatching an opportunity like this will most likely ensure that you’ll never be unemployed again, not when you’ve had a hand in creating a Kim Seokjin album. It’s the big break you’ve always dreamed of, the one to propel you forward and get your name circulating around the industry. Just imagine the kind of apartment you could get with Kim Seokjin-level royalties.

If it were anyone else asking, you would’ve fainted, woken up again, and said yes in a heartbeat. Instead, it’s your ex boyfriend who’s propositioned you out of the blue because it’s really him who needs to make this work.

In the moment—and to be fair, in the morning too—you’re not level-headed enough to weigh the pros and cons. If he’s the producer, you’d also be working with him and you don’t think you have the capacity to handle being in the same space as Jeon Jungkook, and even for months on end until the album is fleshed out. But it isn’t even just that, there’s a petty voice inside your head screaming at you to forgo whatever success you may garner from this project, just for the sake of fucking him over.

You’ve heard enough chatter about Jin to know that he isn’t someone that can be sweet-talked and bargained with. If he wants something, he has to get it. If not, the man walks.

You succumb to the pettiness. “I’ll have you know, my email is just blowing up with offers. I’m doing quite well for myself.”

Okay, it’s not completely untrue. Your inbox might not be on the verge of combustion from an overload of messages, but you have made a name for yourself. Since your project with Agust D last year, your songwriting has definitely been a sought after commodity, but not anywhere near the circles of Kim Seokjin though.

The smirk on Jungkook’s face drops, and in its place a smile blooms across his lips, an earnest smile. “I know.”

You’re taken aback by the sincerity, and how you still think his smile is beautiful enough to part way for the sun on cloudy days. Like Kim Taehyung, your own heart becomes a traitor when it misses a beat.

Jungkook’s acknowledgment of your achievements has you blinking at him to make sure you heard him right. It takes you a moment to regain your composure and straighten up. “Oh… Then you know how it is. I don’t have time to take on another project. Off you go now.”

“C’mon, you won’t even consider it for an old friend?”

Your mouth sets in a grim line as you stare at him, and he knows from the way your jaw clenches that he’s said the wrong thing.

No, he’s not an old friend. And while he knows of your achievements and that you’ve created somewhat of a decent life for yourself, he doesn’t know that your first day of work started with false bravado and nearly ended with a breakdown in a lavender-scented bathroom stall when you remembered that the only person you wanted to talk to about your day wouldn’t be there when you got home.

He doesn’t know you used to get so shitfaced on a weekly basis that Taehyung became genuinely concerned for your health at one point, that he and Jimin had to sit you down for a talk before they thought your liver would give out.

He doesn’t know how much it fucking hurts to be suckerpunched by someone you thought was the love of your life, to be disregarded and abandoned as if years together held the significance of mere days in the end. To be left without a single word as to why you weren’t good enough for him.

So no, Jungkook isn’t an old friend. Sometimes you think maybe it would have been better if that’s all he ever was to you.

“We’re not friends,” you declare eerily calmly that you even surprise yourself. The door closes in his face with a click. The wood under your palm should feel light, but somehow it weighs a thousand pounds now.

Old friend, you mull over the word in your head. Is that all you’ve been reduced to? You’re reminded once again that you hate Jeon Jungkook, and this sensation poking into your heart like a sharp needle is just your accumulated disdain toward him—nothing more.

For a split second you wonder if you should have let yourself feel that January cold instead of his warmth.

You can’t go back to sleep now that your entire morning has been ruined.

[08:38] You: Kim Taehyung.

[08:38] You: is there anything u would like to tell me

[08:39] You: ? 😇

[08:52] Taebear 🐻: ?? it’s not 10 yet why are you up

[08:53] You: answer the question, Kim 😇

[08:53] Taebear 🐻: what are you on about

[08:55] Taebear 🐻: is this because i ate your ice cream the other day?

[08:56] You: what ice cream

[08:58] Taebear 🐻: that white flavor with the chocolate bits

[08:59]: ????

[08:59] You: wtf u ate THE haagen dazs irish whiskey and chocolate waffle ice cream that i’ve been saving ?? fuck that was limited edition

[09:00] You: wait no i can’t even focus on that right now. why the fuck was jeon jungkook at my apartment on this godforsaken wednesday morning??

[09:04] Taebear 🐻: oh

[09:04] Taebear 🐻: damn

[09:09] You: ?????

[09:09] You: that’s all u have to say ???

As irritated as you are at Taehyung, you refrain from calling to yell at him while he’s at work. So when he casually strolls into your apartment at lunch with a takeaway bag of two poké bowls from your favorite diner, you know he’s here to spill the beans. (And also to butter you up; he even splurged on a side of tobiko and a large taro boba for when you’re finished.) The sight of the food dilutes your anger; you gotta hand it to him—Kim Taehyung knows the way to your heart. (Hint: it’s through your stomach.)

The moment he sets his and your food on the dining table, you immediately narrow your eyes at him. “Explain, Kim.”

Taehyung runs a hand through his hair, sighing as he begins to mix the content of your bowl for you. “Jungkook asked me where you lived like a month ago, said he needed to ask for a work favor. But then he didn’t do anything after that so I forgot about it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when he asked?”

“He told me not to.”

You cross your arms in front of your chest, mouth hanging open to gape at him, flabbergasted. “And you listened to him? You’re supposed to be on my side!” Are you childish for wanting Taehyung to be on your side? He has always been closer to you; he was your friend first. “I can’t believe you’d do me dirty like that, Tae. I feel so betrayed right now. I got you in the divorce and Jungkook got Jimin. I can’t believe you’d go running off to daddy like that.”

He scrunches his face in distaste. “Ugh, please don’t call Jungkook my daddy.” He pushes the bowl toward you.

Silence settles over your apartment aside from the sounds of cutlery against ceramic. As you munch on your rice and spicy mayo salmon, Taehyung asks warily. “You good though?”

Jungkook has always been a sensitive subject, clearly. With your shared circle of friends from college and even now with your mutual connections in the industry, you’re surprised that you haven’t run into him at all in the past five years.

You only grumble around a mouthful of food. You take your sweet time with your poké and when you’re finished, you wash it down with a generous sip of the boba Taehyung brought over. Salmon and milk tea are probably not the best combo though.

“Positively dandy.” It’s just my ex who I haven’t seen in half a decade and would’ve liked to never see again for the rest of my miserable life. “Live, laugh, love, Kim.”

He only squints at you. Though your face is devoid of any emotion—you have to praise your own poker face when someone brings up Jungkook, it’s taken you a hell of a long time to master—your bitter tone is a dead giveaway of how much the surprise reunion is affecting you.

You should’ve suspected that Kim Taehyung was up to no good when he suddenly called to treat you to lunch two days later. The man even insisted that you order the most expensive thing on the menu, something that you and him have only reserved for celebrations.

You never thought that one day, food would be your downfall.

A figure slides into the chair next to yours after you gulp down the last of your drink, and it became all too clear what Kim Taehyung had been scheming. You should really be more cautious when people randomly start offering you food; it’s becoming a problem.

You look at the intruder with wide eyes, fingers still gripping the glass. “What are you doing here?”

“Listen.” It’s Taehyung who speaks up, drawing your attention away from Jungkook. “Just hear him out–”

“Kim Taehyung!” You kick him in the shin under the table, to which he yelps and gets a few heads turning in the semi-crowded restaurant. “You backstabbing bitch!”

“God, you’re so dramatic. Just hear him out, okay? I think this could be really good for your career.”

Your jaw clenches, and both men notice the way you slightly scooch away from the one next to you. Damn them and damn you. You’re always more pliant with a satiated stomach; maybe that’s why Jungkook didn’t show up until after you had finished eating.

Waving a hand in the air in defeat, you motion for your ex to do whatever it is that he came here to do. Mostly, you want to waste his time just to say no to him in the end.

Jungkook immediately launches into a whole speech about how this could be Jin’s greatest album yet if they had you on the team. Apparently Jin has been itching to sink his claws into you ever since he found out you worked with Yoongi; you knew the two of them were friends, but you didn’t realize that your work even drew that kind of attention.

As the man explains what the album concept would be, your resolve almost breaks. Fuck, if it doesn’t sound like something right up your alley. You’re already envisioning everything you could do with this album, the lyrics that are practically writing themselves inside your head. Nevertheless, it isn’t that simple. There’s always a but, and that but is sitting right beside you, droning on about how this album might actually be the one to score Jin his first Grammy win. Jungkook didn’t seem fazed when he saw you the other day, and he sure isn’t fazed now. You’re supposed to be someone he used to love, but the way he’s so nonchalant makes you feel like you were never more than just a mere acquaintance.

When he’s finished, you don’t respond. Instead, you turn to your friend. “Seriously, Tae,” you scoff, glaring at the man sitting across from you. This is the second time that Kim Taehyung has betrayed you in a span of two days; one more strike and you might just key his car. “I can’t believe you ran off to daddy again.”

He rolls his eyes at you while Jungkook raises a brow in amusement and leans back against his chair. “I told you not to say that,” he grumbles. “But honestly, I’m saying this as your best friend–”

“My best friend wouldn’t use my greatest weakness to trick me.”

“Oh my God, just—listen, do you not see what an insane opportunity this is? It’s Kim Seokjoon, for crying out loud. Even I know who that is and you tell me all the time that I have zero knowledge of pop culture.”

“Kim Seokjin,” Jungkook pipes in before you can.

“Oh, shit,” Taehyung scratches his head awkwardly, “right, well, my point still stands. You’ve always wanted something like this to happen, so why are you doing this to yourself now? Just because it’s Ju–”

“Tae.” Your gaze hardens as you look at him, and Jungkook sees how you and the older man communicate without having to utter a single word. He never understood the connection, the bond, between the two of you but he has always appreciated the fact that you have someone like Taehyung. Someone who understands you in ways that he couldn’t, who looks out for you and takes care of you no matter what, who made sure you wouldn’t fall when Jungkook was the one to shatter the ground beneath you.

After a minute, Taehyung softens. “I’m just saying,” he nudges your foot under the table to ease the tension, “when are you gonna get a chance like this again? Some things aren’t worth sacrificing your dreams for.”

He’s right, and you know you’re being childish. When are you going to get an offer of this magnitude? This is your dream; this is something you’ve been working toward all these years. Are you really about to let it pass you by because of Jungkook?

You turn away from both of them and close your eyes, sighing as you expel the weight in your chest. “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, “my life is a dumpster fire waiting to blow up. Fucking hell.”

“Language, sailor,” Jungkook scolds you lightly. “How can someone with such a foul mouth write lyrics that beautiful? You never used to swear this much.”

You choose to fire back at him rather than focus on the fact that he listens to your songs. “The keyword here is “used to”. You don’t know me anymore.”

He stares at you, and once again he knows he’s dug his own grave, earning even more points in your bad books. He only meant to be playful, but now he doesn’t know how to respond to that.

Thankfully, Taehyung chimes in. “It can’t hurt to think about it right? It’s a good opportunity.”

Your brows knit together and you fist the hem of your shirt. You look a little distressed, and Jungkook remembers how you used to do this to will yourself before you committed to something you really don’t want to. It used to be research papers for psychology classes, but now it’s him.

“Fine, I will think about it.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” Jungkook says, his voice a little smaller now. He hands you the folder that he’s been holding, and you gulp when his hand brushes yours, just barely. “Here’s the creative brief. Let me know what you think, alright? My business card is in there.”

As Taehyung watches the two of you, he isn’t entirely convinced if this is such a good idea anymore. Career-wise, you’d be out of your mind not to snatch this offer right off the bat; but emotionally speaking, there’s still something that he can’t properly decipher between you and Jungkook.

He sees the way the younger man glances at you, and the way you wouldn’t look at him. Taehyung has noticed how your tone has grown subconsciously more defensive and overly nonchalant the past couple of days, as if you’re trying to convince yourself and everybody else that you’re doing fine. For years, you’ve been claiming that you despise Jungkook and that the resentment you have toward him will never change, but no one has really been able to confirm that hypothesis. You haven’t been in the same room since college, and it’s a hell of a lot easier to say you’re over someone when you aren’t standing in front of them and looking into their eyes.

Nonetheless, it’s his duty as your friend to make sure you choose what’s best for you, and this—no matter how ludicrous it sounds to you—will do you more good than harm. Whatever may happen, he knows you’ll never forgive yourself if you miss this chance. And just like how Taehyung has helped you through your toughest days before, he can do it again. You’ve recovered from Jungkook once, you can do it a second time.

…Right?

Naturally, you had to go and get sloshed that night. Alone, because Taehyung had a work function that he couldn’t skip and though he promised to take you out to drown your sorrows the next day instead, you just couldn’t wait to forget about Jungkook.

On his birthday the year of your breakup, you had called him to wish him a happy birthday even though he never made an effort to reach out to you at all after you went your separate ways; or rather, he went his own way and you were left there all alone. The line rang, and rang, and finally when the call connected, you felt the air get knocked out of your lungs at the sound of a woman’s voice filtering through the speaker, airy and giggly.

“Is this… Jungkook’s phone?” you tried to keep your voice from breaking.

“Jungkook?” the woman sounded confused. “I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong number.”

You promptly ended the call afterward, not knowing whether to feel relieved that no, he didn’t get a new girlfriend, or dejected because he changed his number and didn’t tell you.

Well, of course, why would he? You broke up and Jungkook made it blatantly obvious that he didn’t want anything to do with you anymore. It hurt you to admit it—something that had once been so unimaginable now taking over every aspect of your life—that you had become strangers who once meant the world to each other.

Shit happens. People wake up and fall out of love everyday. People change, then they leave. Life goes on.

It didn’t mean much, but you deleted the number that night.

Now, as you’re staring at this new set of digits you took from the business card Jungkook had given you, anxiety bubbles in your stomach. The fact that you’re actually considering it, means you’ll say yes. It is an incredible opportunity, Taehyung didn’t need to do all of that for you to see it. But partly because it’s Jungkook who’s asking, and you’re weak despite how many times you’ve claimed to hate his guts. Despite wanting to say no with your entire being, he affects you in ways that you never thought were still possible. Though you haven’t agreed to his proposition, your mind is already picturing what will happen when history inevitably repeats itself.

You’ll say yes, he’ll take what he needs from you, and he will leave. You will go back to being strangers again. The numbers staring at you in blue light will be another set for you to delete.

That’s why Jimin is here now, at the wine bar where he’s found himself with Taehyung so many times before just to pick you up and drag your drunken self home.

But Taehyung isn’t here tonight because of the aforementioned work event so Jimin brought backup—it just happens that it’s the same person you're trying your hardest to forget about.

(They were lounging on Jungkook’s couch playing video games when the call came and interrupted Jimin. When Taehyung’s voice rang through the speakers to inform him of your situation and how Jimin would have to handle it alone this time, Jungkook’s curiosity was instantly piqued.

“I’ll take you,” he said to the older man. “You didn’t drive here anyway.”

“Oh, you’re with Kook?” Taehyung asked hesitantly, then went quiet for a moment after Jimin confirmed. “Yeah, sure, you should take him with you. She probably won’t remember it…”)

“Jiminie,” you whine loudly once your friend helps you into the car, “Jiminieee.”

“Yes, what? I’m right here.”

“I saw Jungkook again. Twice.”

“Oh?” He looks at the younger man, unsure of how to proceed. “How did it go?”

Jungkook watches your face in the rearview mirror. Your hooded eyes are looking out the window, blinking lazily every few seconds before closing completely shut. He thinks you might have fallen asleep until you speak up a few minutes later.

“He didn’t ask how I’ve been doing. He just showed up out of the blue because he needed something from me and didn’t even bother to ask if my life’s been okay or anything. I–It made me feel so insignificant.”

For a moment, the already stuffy air in the car thickens. You sound like you’re sober, like you’re saying all of this under the guise of inebriation to see how he would react. But before either man can respond, you’re lolling your head to the side and mumbling incoherently again. Jungkook swallows, and Jimin remains quiet for the rest of the drive. The only sounds are your occasional hiccups and giggles.

When the car pulls up to your apartment complex, Jimin is too preoccupied with hauling you out of the vehicle to notice Jungkook’s hesitation to help him lug you into the building, but he does anyway. He hasn’t touched you in years, and you won’t even remember it in the morning.

It’s been so long, but when his arm wraps securely around your waist, it seems like no time has passed at all. His hand on your body still feels familiar and not as foreign as he would expect. Since you’re mostly leaning against Jungkook, it stirs a strange sensation in his gut when your head falls to rest in the crook of his neck.

The elevator ride only lasts a few minutes, but he can’t focus with the way your warm breath is fanning his skin. When he crashed your lunch date with Taehyung 12 hours earlier, he didn’t expect the day would end like this—with you in his arms again, though the circumstances could’ve been better.

Once you make it to your door, you immediately perk up. “Oh?” You turn to Jungkook, as if you’ve only just noticed him for the first time tonight. “Chimmy, who’s your friend here?”

Jimin doesn’t reply, too busy ruffling through the chaos in your bag to find your keys and letting Jungkook hold you up by himself. (He never understands why women carry so many useless things around. The only things a person should need to bring with them outside are keys, phone and wallet. Maybe a pack of gum and condoms. Why do you even have a flask of vodka when you were already headed to a bar?)

When he takes too long, you turn to him and whisper. “Bitch, your friend is so cute!” (Only you think you’re whispering.) Jungkook chuckles as he tightens his grip on you. He can’t help but think you’re adorable—you’ve always been a cute drunk in his eyes, though if you would probably smack yourself over the head if you were aware of the words coming out of your mouth. It’s nice to hear that you still find some part of him tolerable.

Jimin lets out a triumphant sigh when he finally pulls your keys from the bag. The way he navigates your apartment in the dark and makes a beeline for what Jungkook assumes is your bedroom makes him wonder how many times the older man has done this whenever you’ve had one too many. Jungkook purposefully, albeit awkwardly, stands in the middle of your living room, glancing at your open door at Jimin who’s setting you on the bed and struggling to take off your jacket because you keep flailing your arms trying to hug him. Jungkook could help, but he feels like being in your home is already pushing his luck, let alone your bedroom, even if you aren’t quite conscious of his presence.

He takes the liberty of looking around, smiling to himself when he sees traces of you in every corner. Picture frames are scattered across your apartment—of you and your friends, your family, even Taehyung’s dog Yeontan because you love the little fluff ball so much. Dainty trinkets from your travels and art prints that you always said were pretentious but you secretly liked them anyway.

No photos of you and him, but that makes sense of course.

Jimin emerges from your bedroom after a while, leaving the door ajar to see if you’re sleeping soundly before they leave. This is the first time in years that he has seen you and Jungkook in such close vicinity of each other. Sure, you’re drunk out of your mind, but still.

“She didn’t mean what she said earlier,” he says as he hands Jungkook a glass of water.

“She did. It’s fine, it’s not like she said anything wrong,” he takes a sip to wash away the slight sting creeping up his spine. “Of course I wanna know how she’s been, hyung. I just didn’t think I had the right to ask. I didn’t know it made her feel that way.”

Jimin sighs, unsure of what to say. Wounds that he thought had scabbed over are starting to bleed again, but this time it seems like it’s affecting the both of you. You were once each other’s safe haven, but now the waters are murky, and no one has a single clue on how to chart them.

A couple of sentences, but this might be the most that Jungkook has talked about you in years. You’re in the same circle of friends, your name was bound to come up in conversation. Whenever it happened, he would simply not contribute anything to the topic, or excuse himself to go to the bathroom until chatter about you has stopped.

He has always refused to disclose anything about the breakup when anyone asked. No one knows what really happened back then; not his brother, not his closest friends, and certainly not you.

— taglist: @bids97 @ggukkieland @bloopkook @canarystwin @princehyun-jin @scoupsnotscoops @eridanuswave @mwitsmejk @thebluegoddess @pb89nv @ppeachyttae @bruisedscrewedandtattooed @xxxxxuixxxxx @bananamochidaisy @jungkook-er @acciofirewhiskey @bbtsficrecs @luv--you @jeonkoookiee @sweetonkookieandtae @mrcleanheichou @betysotelo18 @neverthefirstchoice @lllucere @parkethereal @tsundoku-world @investedreader @armys-dna

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stylessupremacy · 2 years

Text

Do You Believe In Fate?

Prompt: Harry, the ruthless CEO, doesn't believe in fate. Yet when he meets Y/n, he starts to think differently and believe he has a chance at a love that he never thought was possible.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Mentions of possible rape, Language, & Smut

If you liked this piece please reblog, recommend, like, and talk to me about this piece! This is what motivates and makes me want to write! :)

Y/n could kick herself in the ass. She was late for work again this week. From the constant working to pay off her college debt, to the late hours she stays up and studies to pass her classes - being exhausted was an understatement.

Y/n was studying to be a clothing designer. She has always enjoyed fashion even if she never had the best clothing. Most clothing she had would get thrown away or lost due to her always switching from one foster house to another.

When she finally turned eighteen, she managed to live with her friend till she could get up and on her feet. She worked for two years which allowed her enough time to save up for an apartment and pay for a little bit of her college education. Being in student debt wasn’t fun by any means, but Y/n felt bad for relying on her friend and her parents to provide for her.

The odds were against her favor today. As she quickly maneuvered her way through the sea of people Y/n seemed to hit every single crosswalk at the wrong time.

As she checked both ways to make sure there weren't any cars coming, Y/n took a step out onto the busy streets just to be quickly pulled back and hit the thing - or person - that pulled her back.

Y/n watched as a car whizzed by honking their horn at her, in return, she flipped them off. She must have overlooked the car, mistaking it for a parked car on the side of the street.

Gathering herself and turning around to thank the person who saved her life, Y/n was met with a stone-cold face. “Thank you for not letting me turn into a flapjack,” Y/n lightly chuckled, taking in the man in front of her.

He was wearing a crisp, clean suit. His face structure was beyond beautiful; defined jaw structure, puffy pink lips, a perfect nose, and the most fascinating green eyes. And his hair was out of this world, light brown, curly, and unruly.

Harry was late for work. He got back to his home around midnight last night. He was exhausted and tired. He got caught up in long overdue paperwork that needs to be done by the end of this month. Arriving home, he was so exhausted he didn’t even eat. He went straight to his room, discarded his clothes, and literally fell into bed from his tiredness.

Never setting an alarm, he didn’t wake up till his secretary was calling him asking if he had a meeting she didn’t know about. Tiredly he explained the situation, quickly got ready and was making his way to work.

As he was waiting for the crosswalk to switch, he watched as the girl in front of him was about to go. She obviously missed the car that was going well over the speed limit but stepped out onto the street nonetheless.

Harry quickly placed his hand on her shoulder and pulled her back making her hit his chest. He was in a pissed-off mood for already being late, but as everybody watch the poor girl almost get hit by a car and did nothing about it that made him even madder.

The man huffed - keeping his stone-cold exterior the same - “Be more careful next time and that won’t happen.” The crosswalk light must have changed because before Y/n could reply back he blended in as he walked with the rest of the crowd across the street leaving Y/n puzzled by his response.

Why would he be kind enough to save her, yet be a dick to her when she just tries to tell him thank you in a joking manner? Y/n shrugged it off and continued her fast walk or light jog to work.

As Y/n quickly rushed into the small restaurant, sending her boss and business owner an apologetic smile. “It’s fine. Just hurry up and get punched in,” the older woman waved off knowing the situation she was in and was very understanding about it.

Y/n’s shift finished at the restaurant and she quickly made her way over to the pub since she was waitressing tonight. Throughout her shift at the restaurant and walking over to the pub - she couldn’t stop thinking about the man who saved her. He was a breath of fresh air but an arrogant son of a bitch. But what bothered her the most was how mad he got her.

Since it was Friday evening, Y/n got to work straight away and started taking orders. She got to deal with flirty men who were drunk off their asses or the older men trying to hit on her. Most of the time those customers left a hefty tip which Y/n always appreciated, but she hated how she felt like she was using her body to help earn her money, even though she wasn’t.

Quickly serving a couple their mixed drinks and told them to holler at her if they needed anything. She quickly made her way over to the new customers that just walked in.

Y/n’s breath hitched as she saw the same man from earlier today who saved her. He was sitting at the table with two other men who were already looking at her up and down. All three of the men dressed to the max in expensive-looking suits.

“What can I get started for you guys?” Y/n asked pen and pad of paper at the ready. It wasn’t until she spoke that Harry looked up from the drink menu he was looking at. His stomach dropped straight to his ass.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her today. He was so fascinated with her the moment he laid eyes on her. He immediately regretted getting pissed off at her when she was just trying to tell him thank you but was too embarrassed to stick around after his outburst, so he took off before she could reply.

Y/n wrote down their order and turned to Harry who was now looking at her, “And what can I get you?” Harry cleared his throat, “A scotch please.” So he does have manners, Y/n thought to herself. She fulfilled their order and gave it to them, continuing on with her work shift.

Throughout her shift, she kept stealing glances over at the table filled with the three men. Noticing how the one from earlier didn’t really seem to be engaging in conversation with the other two, he seemed lost in thought or something was on his mind.

A deep clearing of somebody’s throat caught Y/n’s attention from where she was helping the bartender clean up by putting away the drinkware. Y/n looked up to see the man from earlier this morning.

Confused, she straightened up, “Can I help you?” She questioned, confusion written on her face. The group already paid their bill and his two other friends left, leaving him the only customer in the pub.

Not hearing or noticing the presence of the customer, the bartender spoke, “I’m going to go. Will you be alright closing up?” Y/n agreed knowing it wasn’t a big deal since she's done it before.

Watching the bartender leave, she turned her attention back to the mystery man. “I just wanted to apologize for the way I spoke to you earlier. There was no reason for me to respond like that and I’m sorry,” He spoke fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

Harry wasn’t sure why he felt nervous. He was actually quite the opposite of nervous all the time but something was fascinating about this girl in front of him. She made him nervous.

“It’s fine,” Y/n dismissed him quickly, finishing her task at hand without batting an eye at him. She made her way over to the tables and started to clean up. Noticing he was still standing there she turned around to face the mysterious man, “We’re closed now. So if you would mind leaving so I could finish up, I would greatly appreciate it.”

Shutting the door behind her and making sure it was locked Y.n was firmly pressed up against it. The man caught her wrist as she tried to push him off of her - he was much stronger than she was.

“Let go of me!” Y/n struggled underneath the man. “Just let me make you feel good,” the man slurred into her ear. The stench of alcohol coming out of his pores. “No! No, I don’t want this,” She spoke, getting worried as he started leaving wet sloppy kisses on her.

Continuing her struggle of getting the drunken man to let her go, she watched as a figure came up and slammed him to the ground. “Do you fucking not understand the word no? She clearly didn’t want you touching her,” the same voice from the pub rang through the air - the guy she just kicked out twenty minutes or so.

“What’s it matter to you,” the drunk slurred. “Because she didn’t consent to it. You forced yourself up onto her and when she told you no you didn’t budge. Women are not prey, they deserve respect. Clearly, you don’t know what that is.”

“People like you should be in jail.” With that final statement, he sent one swift punch to his face. Hearing a sickening crack and blood pour out of his nose, he didn’t give a flying fuck.

Y/n was astonished watching the man in front of her. Watching as he turned around, his eyes softened as they met hers, “Are you alright?” Y/n brushed herself off, “I was just fine. I didn’t need your help anyways.”

As she walked away she could hear his footsteps quickly jogging up to meet up with her. “Well it didn’t look like you were fine,” he quickly huffed out, getting slightly agitated with her. “I’ve dealt with people like that before and I could have again. Why were you even near the area? I kicked you out twenty minutes ago at least,” Y/n said continuing her walk along the dimly lit streets towards her apartment.

Shoving his hands in his pocket he shrugs, “Not really sure. I feel like a total prick for the way I spoke to you earlier so I wanted to stick around and talk to you.”

Harry knew deep down she was different from all the other girls. All the girls he hooked up with just wanted his sex or money, sometimes even both. Yet the girl in front of him didn’t force herself onto him like most.

“H- Harry, feels so good,” The girl moaned, gripping the sheets tighter as Harry pounded into her.

Harry kept pounding into the girl not really listening to her moans at all. He was just focusing on making himself feel good and forgetting about the stress he accumulated from work. It was hard and a lot of work being the CEO of the most well-known marketing firms and richest people alive.

Harry’s breath hitched and his thrusts became more inconsistent as the knot in his stomach grew stronger. The girl clenched around his cock and she came down from her high and that was just enough to send Harry over the edge.

While the girl was still laying in bed catching her breath from the best sex she ever had in her life - Harry was tieing the used condom and throwing it in the trash. “Where are you going?” The girl questions hazily - still a little dazed from their previous activities. Hastily buttoning his dress shirt he replies gruffly, “Going home.”

As he grabbed his suit jacket she spoke, “Same time tomorrow?” Harry just stared at her dumbfounded, “Of course not.” The girl gasped dramatically. Before she could even make a comeback, Harry swiftly shut the door on her not giving a fuck.

Harry never has had a relationship before. Everybody he's met has used him in some way or another. He’ll only give into it to take care of his needs in the bedroom.

Seeing how Y/n acted made him believe there are good people out there who won’t just use him to get his money. He was taking that chance with Y/n.

From the moment he laid eyes on her to the moment she made that corny joke, he knew deep down he wanted to give her a chance. “It’s really okay. You were probably late for work like I was,” she chuckled, a small smile tugging on her lips. “I’m Y/n, by the way,” she smiled. Harry gave a curt nod, “Harry.”

“So are you just going to follow me home so you can stalk me?” Y/n chuckled nervously. The atmosphere wasn’t awkward or anything, but it still wasn’t the most comfortable situation to be in.

Earning a chuckle from Harry, “Figured I may as well walk you home to make sure you're safe.” She chuckled, “Un huh, sure.” Harry’s laugh was contagious, she also may or may not have found it really adorable.

“Well this is my place,” Y/n said as she came up on her apartment number. As Harry walked her home they held conversation like they knew each other for years, when in reality they didn’t.

“Thanks for walking me home Harry. And for saving my ass as well,” she chuckled, “But I have to get going, I have to do some homework before I go to bed,” she chuckled.

“It’s no problem. I’ll see you around,” Harry spoke and gave a small nod.

He was acting like a teenager who thought a girl was cute. Damn straight he had a crush because she was the most breathtaking girl he's ever laid eyes on. He was majorly head over heels for her when he barely knew him for twenty-four hours.

The two bid their goodbyes - Y/n walked into her apartment and Harry made his way out of the apartment complex with a skip in his step and a boyish grin on his face.

As Harry walked home that night he thought of ways he could try and ask Y/n out on a date. He’s never been so over the moon with a girl before, but there was something about Y/n that sparked something inside of him.

He’s never felt this way before so he doesn’t know how he's supposed to act. He spent most of his night lying awake thinking about Y/n. He didn’t sleep much, not being able to get her off his mind.

Nerves ran through Harry as he approached Y/n’s apartment door. He doesn’t know why he's nervous - maybe it's because he was going to ask Y/n out on a date, or maybe it was because he hasn’t been on an actual date nor asked anybody out like this before.

Holding the bouquet of sunflowers in his left hand, he gently knocked on her door with his right. Harry waited for a response and took in the surroundings of where she lived.

Her apartment complex was long overdue for a needed touch-up. It made him wonder what the inside of her apartment looked like.

Not that he thought Y/n would keep it a mess but was it even safe to live in considering the outside of it? Plus her apartment complex wasn’t in the best neighborhood.

Receiving no answer he tried again, maybe Y/n didn’t hear him. His second attempt at knocking received no answer.

Hopping into his car, Harry went downtown to check the pub she was working at last night. She could possibly be working considering it was a Saturday and it can be a happening place downtown.

Parking in the street and looking through the pub’s glass windows, he could see Y/n waiting on a table. Her beautiful long locks were held back by the same sunflower clip she had in yesterday, she had rings and a few bracelets adoring her fingers and arms. Harry thought it added a nice touch to her flawless skin.

Leaving the flowers in the car, Harry made his way into the pub grabbing a seat at one of the empty high-top tables that sat two.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” Y/n chirped once she spotted Harry. “What? Am I not allowed to come down to the pub for a few drinks and snacks on a Saturday evening?” Harry mused with a small smile tugging his lips. “Maybe I want to watch the football game or something.”

“You don’t seem like a sports kind of guy,” she chuckled. “You got me,” he smiled.

Harry requested water and an appetizer, hoping the food could help the knot in his stomach dwindle down.

Y/n took notice of Harry's attire - he wasn’t in an expensive-looking suit like he was the day prior, he was sporting simple cotton shorts and a tee with a button-down over it. Her jaw dropped when she noticed the Gucci tag on the shorts.

How much money does this man have? He couldn’t have been much older than her - but yet he probably didn’t have any setbacks like her and was able to get in and out of school fast.

Continuing her work of taking orders and serving the customers, she kept a close eye on Harry. She watched as he would check the sparkling gold watch on his left wrist or pull out the newest iPhone model to quickly type back to someone.

The whole entire time Harry was there he just drank water and ate his food, only getting up to use the restroom.

Nearing the end of her shift, Harry waved Y/n over and requested his bill. She started to place the receipt down, but Harry just handed her his sleek black American Express credit card.

“Just put it on this love,” Y/n nodded and went to take care of his bill. She was used to the nickname ‘love’ considering they were in the heart of London where the British men loved to toss that word around.

Y/n handed him the final receipt and started cleaning up her other tables so she could head home. She made a pit stop at Harry's table to grab his receipt and dishes knowing that was her last table. She noticed the abnormal tip he left and questioned it, “I think you missed a decimal place, Harry.”

Harry just shook his head and continued gathering his things, “I don’t think I did.” “Then why are you giving me such a hefty tip?” She questioned, clear confusion written on her face.

“Am I not allowed to be generous?” Harry spoke, a certain edge to his voice. Y/n shook her head, “I appreciate your generosity, but I’m not some charity case.” “Never said you were. Figured you could use the extra money.”

With that, he left and headed to her apartment to allow himself time to cool down as he waited for her with the bouquet of flowers that were slowly wilting. The flowers were in desperate need of some water from sitting in Harry’s car all day.

Y/n clocked out, grabbed her stuff, and made her way to her apartment. As she walked she searched for the name ‘Harry’ to see if she could find anything about this man. But what she found blew her mind. The Harry that’s talking to her is the fucking multi billionaire who is a fucking CEO of his own company.

He was the owner of Styles & Co. Most people feared this man, he was known as ruthless and cold-hearted. Why was he giving her the time of day?

Walking up the stairs to her level she was met with Harry standing outside her door with flowers. “What are you doing here Mr. Styles?” Her voice was firm meaning she meant business. “You know you aren’t my charity case-” Y/n cut him off immediately, “So what I’m just somebody you think needs money?”

This made Harry scoff, “You figured out who I am finally,” he chuckled.

“You know most women I met always just want me for my money - not you. I think you’re beautiful, kind, funny, smart, you name it. If I’m being honest you interest me.” Harry spoke, nothing but the truth coming out of his mouth.

“I figured since you work two jobs that means you're probably in some financial trouble and just thought I could help.” Y/n sat there, not really sure what she was feeling at this point. She’s never experienced somebody actually caring for her like Harry is confessing to.

“I noticed you had a sunflower phone case and sunflower hair clip yesterday. Kind of figured you liked sunflowers,” Harry handed the flowers which she took thankfully. “I never believed I would ever be able to find someone who actually cared about me instead of my money nor have I had somebody actually decline my money,” he chuckled with no emotion behind it. “But I guess I was wrong.” Turning on his heels he started to walk away.

Y/n hurriedly grabbed him by the arm, “I’m sorry I was a bitch. I really didn’t know you had the money until I kind of searched you up cause I see your last name everywhere,” she lightly chuckled. “Just so you know, I’m not some gold digger nor do I want to ever become one, but I do appreciate the tip. I actually could use it.”

Harry listened with a smug smile on his face. “Would you want to go on a date with me?” Harry blurted out not being able to contain it any longer.

Y/n chuckled, “I assume that’s why you brought the flowers?” “Maybe or maybe it was because of your hair clip and phone case.” Harry shrugged nonchalantly.

Y/n’s face heated up realizing this man wasn’t playing around, “Nobody has ever paid that much attention to me.” Finally making eye contact and a smile formed on her lips, “To answer your question I would love to go on a date with you.”

Harry did a silly little celebratory dance that made Y/n giggle, “You want to come inside and have a glass of wine with me?” Harry nodded, “That would be lovely.”

Harry knew from the minute he laid eyes on her to the minute he beat the crap out of the guy trying to assault Y/n, he knew she was the one. She didn’t like Harry for his money - she truly liked him for who he is.

Harry was never one to believe in fate. But deep down, he knew Y/n was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. From her corny jokes to her stubbornness - she was the one he wanted and needed.

Harry believes in fate now because if he wasn’t late for work, he wouldn’t have saved her from getting run over. If his business partners hadn’t suggested they went to that pub, he wouldn’t have had the chance to tell her sorry. If he didn’t stick around, he wouldn’t have kicked the dude’s ass and walked her home.

Now he was sharing a glass of wine with Y/n in her kitchen watching as she fumbled with the pots and pans trying to not burn her apartment down. She’s cursing like a sailor but it doesn’t matter to Harry because she’s real. Not some stuck-up bitch who wants his money.

Y/n was Harry’s saving grace - whether they both knew it or not. He finally found somebody who he found attractive and caring - and Y/n found somebody who gave her the time of day. She was the love of his life - and he was the love of her life.

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