#then i realized 'oh god he's just like me for real (grew up ugly and unwanted and now can't reconcile with being Not That as an adult)'. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 328: Pandora’s Box of Discourse

Previously on BnHA: DEKU TOOK A BATH.

Today on BnHA:

youtube

Also Naomasa grew a beard. Goddamn.

please let this be a cool chapter that plays nice with my ADHD lol

(ETA: lol I feel guilty because a lot of people hated this chapter, but I’m just happy there was a lot of stuff to make fun of, and also that I have another week to work on my backlog of meta posts since the kids were MIA.)

around one month ago?? ah, okay, so we’re gonna find out what was in that Tartarus security file huh

I love that they just randomly set the place on fire

was it necessary to do this in order to escape? no. was it a good idea to set the island they were occupying on fire while they were in the midst of still occupying it? uh. was it cinematic as fuck? fuck yeah

wow it’s a pervert!!

that’s so great that the villains set loose this fine fellow who I’m sure is definitely not a serial rapist. truly the LoV is so noble and misunderstood. they’re just trying to free society from its chains people

oh my god??!

SHANKED!!! oh my god I cheered for Stain before I realized what I was doing. time to have an identity crisis I guess

so he’s all “hey what’s going on.” which, while a respectable question, is something I personally would have waited to ask until I had put a bit of distance between myself and the fiery murder island. but that’s just my personal preference

Stain you really are tenacious I’ll give you that

“what’s the point of escaping prison if you’re not gonna be smart about it” well shit. anyways yeah you’re dead right, society is in the process of collapsing and the outside world is in total chaos, good call there

oh shit

I mean it’s not like we really expecting anything otherwise, but still. fucking brutal. I feel like these guys’ fates were decided the minute that one guy called AFO “scum” back in chapter 94. AFO is unmatched at getting long-term revenge

ahh, was it the security footage??

fdsdfk he’s still alive??

and he’s immediately launching into an inappropriately theatrical monologue even as the darkness closes in on him fdlfksjdlk. you know, was it ever confirmed that the other guy back in chapter 297 was Seiji’s dad? I’m just saying

very impressed that he’s still coherent enough to weigh the pros and cons before making the decision to gamble on giving this info to Stain, who at the very least has his own moral code and isn’t allied with AFO. it was definitely still a risk, but as we now know it was also the right call

what a weird alliance. so Stain tells him that he’ll give it to a just person, and the guy is all,

okay for real though I’m gonna need someone to run a DNA test on this guy. maybe it was some kind of cuckold situation?? the other guy had the family resemblance, but this guy absolutely 100% raised Shishikura Seiji and you are not going to convince me otherwise

anyway, so Stain is all,

PRISON GUARD: “???? ??????? what the hell. what the fuck does that fucking mean. I’m dying here, jesus christ, whatever man fuck you”

(ETA: I kind of feel like this might have been Stain’s last appearance in the manga, given all the fanfare. there’s not really much else he can do for the story at this point, and he seems to have gotten all the character development Horikoshi was planning on giving him. so if this really is it, hasta la vista and good riddance I guess.)

DWLFDKSLDK MEANWHILE, OUTSIDE

(ETA: I feel like this is meant to be evocative of that Sermon on the Mount painting, but in a really fucked up way lol.)

if it were me stumbling upon this scene I would just shake my head and walk right back into the flaming building. not getting involved in that mess. sorry not sorry. I’ll take my chances with the fire, especially given that it’s half-assed neutered BnHA fire lol

blah blah blah and so he decided to pass the info on to All Might -- HOT DAMN, HOLY SHIT

NAOMASA HOLY SHIT. THE APOCALYPSE LOOKS GOOD ON YOU, BOY

“I really like that facial scruff thing Aizawa’s got going on, I think I’m gonna get in on that” yes sir. “also thinking of ditching the tie in favor of the bulletproof vest look. also thinking of getting totally fucking jacked.” good lord. except I’m pretty sure that’s just body armor, but also I don’t care. anyway I should probably stop staring and actually read the fucking speech bubbles here lol

“All Might first handed this information over to Nao, and then went to see Deku, and then came back to Nao” thanks for that tidy little summary Horikoshi. we are capable of piecing events together in sequential order, I just want you to know that. but thank you

“so has Deku finally gotten a bath? also, sucks that Stain saved the day, but what are you gonna do” Nao I missed you so fucking much and didn’t even realize. how am I just now realizing that you are the perfect man

for a second I was gonna ask why Tartarus’s security systems would be cut off from the outside world, and then I remembered that’s a basic security control, and then I actually got impressed by how sensible that is. like, it’s been a while since I could genuinely say that the good guys (excluding class 1-A) did something smart. not that it helped them much in the end, but still

anyway so they’re talking about how AFO was able to coordinate the attack by communicating between his horcrux self on the outside and his ugly peanut-faced self on the inside

huh

okay you have my attention. I am taking notes here lol please continue

ah okay so he says that prior to Jakku, the transfer of information between him and his Vestige self was only one-way. but post-Jakku when Deku was in the hospital, he was able to tell what was happening inside the OFA Radical Lisa Frank Dead People Book Club Realm when he touched him. I feel like we established that before, actually. but he didn’t talk about how it actually felt, though

boy we already know this lol. yes AFO can talk with his horcrux self. and he can also communicate with his little bro in OFA too, let’s talk about that sometime why don’t we. what exactly does that imply, based on the rules we’ve established here

my god I cannot get over Naomasa and his fucking facial hair

no wonder All Might was in such a hurry to leave Deku and get back here

like I have no idea what this radio waves nonsense is but my god, people

that jawline. also so it’s a quirk, I see. except last I checked Deku didn’t have a radio waves quirk, so that doesn’t really explain his connection to AFO. but whatever, hopefully we’re at least getting closer to some kind of reveal here

(ETA: since I sometimes forget that other people’s lives don’t revolve around my theory posts, here are the two relevant links if you by chance want to know my thoughts about this.

Hagakure is still The U.A. Traitor™ regardless of whether Deku is passing information on to AFO through his psychic link, which he almost certainly is.

speaking of said psychic link, Deku is a horcrux.

just posting these now, because whenever trippy OFA stuff happens I tend to get an influx of theory asks. so hopefully this will be a bit of a time saver lol.)

-- wait, what

THAT’S what the recording was??!? holy SHIT. I genuinely was not expecting that. y’all wiretapped his fucking telepathy. fucking quirks, man. wild

AND THEY USED THAT POWER TO DETERMINE WHAT WE ALREADY KNEW, HUZZAH. GOOD SHOW

-- oh shit wait lol, except I forgot we’re not talking about 38 days from the present, we’re talking about 38 days from the date the conversation was recorded. heh. um

yeah that’s the face I would make too if All Fucking Might just casually told me we had eight days left until the end times

oh, pardon me. three fucking days

r.i.p. anyone who thought we were going to have another band arc sob. I sure hope Deku is enjoying that nap

(ETA: I realize people were hoping for a longer rest period here, but given that the man warned us all the way back in chapter 306 that we were entering the final act, you can’t really blame him too much when that turns out to be true. anyway but I do recognize that we’ve reached the point in the story where this kind of discourse is going to become a weekly occurrence, simply because there’s no possible way for Horikoshi’s actual endgame to line up perfectly with the variable headcanons of millions of fans, all of whom have wildly differing and in many cases contradictory expectations which can’t possibly all be fulfilled. anyway, so I’m already bracing myself for that lol. this coming year is going to be a wild ride.)

damn, U.A. out here looking like the motherfucking United Nations

-- is this U.A.?? I actually just realized, U.A. is four interconnected buildings, not two. wait holy shit is this Shiketsu?

wait holy SHIT

based on the overwhelmingly powerful vibes of bureaucratic incompetence, I’m thinking this really is the (future) U.N., or whatever organization it is that deals with international hero stuff

“just let them handle it themselves I’m sure they’ll be fine” yeah okay, thanks guys. appreciate it

wait oh shit did he say that it’s not just Japan?

soooo, what you’re telling me is that AFO is this close to bringing about the end of not just Japan, but the entire world, and you guys don’t think it’s a good idea to help the Japanese heroes stop him? so, genuine follow-up question: are you guys already planning your rich people exodus into space a la Wall-E, and that’s why you don’t give a fuck?? like, what??

omg international heroes

these guys are from World Hoodie Mission, right? is this Horikoshi’s way of reminding me to buy tickets

(ETA: and it worked too lol.)

WHO??? WHAT???

don’t tell me you’re introducing yet another badass new female character for me to fall in love with only to watch as you dismember them and/or blow them up, Horikoshi. I’m getting tired of playing this game my dude. don’t lie and tell me this time will be different. we’re not doing this again goddammit

noooooooooooooooooooo

god fucking dammit lmao. [sighs and rips the previous paragraph into shreds]

on behalf of Americans I apologize for our superheroes always being Like This

I also apologize because I love her already and I’m gonna be shameless about it. so fucking shameless you guys

is her fucking hair red white and blue. it is, isn’t it

this is the volume cliffhanger, 100% lol. it will take every ounce of Horikoshi’s willpower not to put her on the volume cover. he’ll have to settle for the spine or the inner cover this time because Deku VS his class 1-a superpals takes precedence. but it will be a close thing let me tell you

tbh it’s that smile that does it for me. she’s definitely All Might’s protege. get out there and show them how it’s done girl. and maybe call Salaam and BRD and see if you can’t convince them to play hooky from their governments as well. why not. world’s ending in three days you guys. “sorry, I’m busy this weekend” ain’t gonna cut it lol

so while I am not fully caught up with Vigilantes, I have read far enough to know that there’s an American hero named Captain Celebrity whose superpower from what I recall is being a humongous douchebag. and while I haven’t read far enough to know what happens to this guy, I can’t say I’m very disappointed to learn that he’s no longer the number one hero in the U.S. (actually, didn’t they kick him out and that’s why he moved to Japan to begin with?). anyway, so my thanks to Horikoshi for having a marginally higher opinion of Americans than Furuhashi, even though we have definitely not done anything to warrant said opinion lately, and you may have inadvertently opened the door to a pandora’s box of discourse lmao

(ETA: lol I went into the tags and they don’t disappoint. “why is she dressed like a flag” because she’s an homage to Captain America and Major Victory and literally every other character on this list. again, I apologize for fictional American superheroes being Like This. “oh boy another thicc waifu to make the fanboys happy” look, tumblr fandom never seems to have a problem thirsting over Dabi or Tomura or Aizawa or Nao, lol, I’m just saying. “where is Captain Celebrity” idk, probably murdered by the exploding bee cartel, let’s just be grateful for our good fortune and try not to Beetlejuice the man.)

anyway, so let’s see if Horikoshi’s recent character development with regards to making Mineta not terrible anymore will apply to other aspects of his writing as well. I know I was making light of discourse just now, but I do think the complaints about him introducing yet another new character at the 11th hour to be cannon fodder in the final battle are absolutely valid. and again, it wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t keep maiming/killing off his female characters one by one instead of developing them and letting them kick ass long-term. but that said, I will never complain about Horikoshi adding another female character to the series, regardless of how clumsy the attempt may be. go ahead and pander away, just give us more girl power lol

anyway so we’ll see how it goes, but I think I’m gonna be optimistic and let myself hope once again, even though I’m probably gonna regret it lol. it is what it is. she is standing on an airplane just chilling for fuck’s sake. I’m only human. anyway fingers crossed

#bnha 328 #stain (bnha)#tsukauchi naomasa #all might #stars and stripes (bnha)#all for one #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #eta: how did I forget to type 'bnha' in the title sob

195 notes · View notes

doctorofmagic · 3 years

Text

My thoughts on What If... Doctor Strange Lost His Heart Instead of His Hands?

The very title of the episode sends a shiver down my spine. And this is where we’re going to start.

~ long post under the cut ~

A year ago, I wrote this post as an attemp to dive into one of the most important traits in Doctor Strange’s personality: love. Stephen is a being made of love, made to love, no matter which interpretation you have when you watch Infinity War. If you don’t read comic books, you’ll understand the moment you meet Donna. You’ll begin to understand how her death reshaped his entire subjectivity out of fear of failing, being powerless and unable to control everything around him (especially death), thus the arrogant and yet a disaster of a man we all know.

Where do I even start? Stephen loved her sister deeply and felt responsible for her death. And then, slowly, he also lost his parents and his brother. He fell in love with Clea but he also pushed her away. He loved Zelma platonically and lied to her, which was enough for them to break their bond. He felt attracted to Kanna but screwed things up, even though they remain friends. He was forced to kill the Ancient One, the only father figure he had ever since his father died. And lastly, the only person who would never leave his side... also left. Yes, even Wong. Stephen has SO much love to give but he’s also afraid because he’s cursed. He truly believes his love in poison. And would you look at that? What If really delivered a story where this is actually true.

What If Doctor Strange Lost His Heart Instead of His Hands?

The level of understanding when it comes to the character is... inconceivable. What could possibly reshape Stephen into following a dark path but love? The very premise of the whole episode. This is so much more than a love letter. This is literally too much, in all senses.

Fine, let’s begin.

What if the best of intentions has very strange consequences?

No. You used the word “strange” for the pun but this is not the word. Nah-ah. I’d go with ATROCIOUS, for starters. Things are gonna escalate so quickly, my friends.

Seriously, tho? Christine is SO SO SO SO beautiful, they’re so cute together. I have this feeling that MCU!Stephen was quite toxic because of his arrogance and this is why they didn’t work out. But WhatIf!Stephen???????? He’s always praising her, teasing her in a healthy way, respecting her and listening to her. HE TRULY LOVES HER, I’M GONNA CRY ALL OVER AGAIN, PLEASE, NOT THE CRÈME BRÛLÉE, PLEASE

I’m going to leave this shot here because we need to go back to it later. Hold that thought.

And bonus points to “Yeah, well, I would call that quite remarkable.” / “Well, I would say the same about you.”

GODS. THE PAIN. STOP THE PAIN.

So in this reality, Stephen didn’t caused the car accident because he was checking his phone while driving. Also it was not the reckless attempt to pass the truck. Well, maybe it was the consequence of this act? The fact is, the car behind them loses control, which makes them crash. Does it matter? We’ll learn later that no, it doesn’t.

And yep... Christine dies. Have you noticed the shattered heart? Ah, the pain only gets better and better.

Again, Stephen blames himself. More than anything, this is so important because Stephen is all about guilt. We still need to meet Donna so we can add yet another layer of guilt. But the feeling exists. This is what corrupts Stephen’s heart and soul in all his iterations. This is what makes him the character I love so much. I love this SO. MUCH. In addition, his stubbornness to accept his condition. Man won’t take a no. This, this is Doctor Strange in character. Stop complaining about NWH Stephen, it’s pathetic.

Okay, “grief-stricken”, Stephen found the Mystic Arts and became a sorcerer. That’s when he learned about the Time Stone, the Eye of Agamotto and Dormammu. Nothing changes, he saves the universe. But time does not heal his deepest wound.

I love Wong so much. Every time Wong does something, the world is healed. Really. We’re going back to him as well but for now I’ll just leave this shot.

BUT STEPHEN, DOING SOMETHING RECKLESS? HE’D NEVAH

Aaaaaaaannnnnnd then he did.

He goes back in time. It’s been two years since he lost Christine. I think he reacted pretty nicely, despite the circumstances. Now let’s go back to that shot I said I was saving for later.

Stephen is so light-hearted here. Also, during the first time he lost Christine, he had no idea what “The Price is Right” was. He knows now, which means he probably tried to learn more about the show because of her, because of grief. HAHAHA MORE PAIN

AND THEN HE

AND THEN SHE DIES AGAIN

AND THEN HE KEEPS GOING BACK IN TIME

AND SHE KEEPS DYING

AND THE MUSIC

AND HIS VOICE

AND HE TRIES TO CHANGE FATE BUT IT CAN’T BE AVERTED

HE EVEN TRIES TO STAY AWAY FROM HER LIFE BUT SHE DIES ALL THE SAME, WHY

AND EVERY TIME THEY CRASH, HE FEELS THE PHYSICAL AND EMOTIONAL PAIN AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN, WHY

I’M-- *ugly sobbing noises*

Apparently, not.

And this scene when he simply... closes his eyes before she dies again...?

This is where this episode had me in endless tears. It got me the four times I watched it. I’m dead serious.

Okay, so, next the Ancient One appears to Stephen, explaining that Christine’s death is an Absolute Point in time. It cannot be changed. Stephen needs the accident to become the Sorcerer Supreme and defeat Dormammu.

And this is where Stephen starts his journey into darkness. “Nothing is impossible, you taught me that. I only require more power.” Disobeying the Ancient One, Stephen then travels in time, seeking the Library of Cagliostro. Now, if you’re not aware of that, Cagliostro was a sorcerer who studied time in comics, and later became Sise-Neg (there’s a recent post on this because of the new Defenders run). It’s funny to think that Sise-Neg also destroyed the world when he became a god, however he grew past his pettiness and remade reality. Stephen did not possess such power, as we’re about to see.

PS: “Stop torturing yourself, Stephen.” Naur but he should use this line like a mantra. Especially comics!Stephen.

Not gonna lie, tho. This place reminds me of the Temple of the Vishanti from T&T (of course I was going to insert T&T somewhere, it’s me).

And of course they’d go for a pun with his name haha. I don’t know how to feel about this, tho. I feel like the episode is too heavy and dark for comedy. But it is what it is.

Okay but why some books are in cages??????????? And wow, it seems Cagliostro also gathered knowledge about several fields of magic.

And then Stephen learns that, in order to break an Absolute Point, he needs to absorb more power. This is when I went “oh-oh, here we go”.

And for real, is this Shuma-Gorath? Why are they keeping his name a secret? Is this the same creature from the first episode with Captain Carter, right? RIGHT? It has to be Shuma-Gorath.

Of course he tries to be polite and ends up all hurt haha. O’Bengh warns him about love but he will not listen. “Love can break more than your heart. It can shatter your mind.”/ “Is she worth the pain?”. Please, this is Stephen. He eats pain for breakfast.

Also, also, let’s take a break. We’re finally going to get monsterf0cker tentacle-lover Stephen Strange. It will cost us everything but here we goooooooooooo (yes, I went frame by frame for your more obscure fanservice needs)

Gods, I love this sequence so much it hurts. Okay, here we go.

Shmebulock???????????

AND HE STOLE THE CAPE??????????? AND DREW THE LINE ON BUGS??????

The grasp this man is holding on me right now...

Some of you will understand. I’m with you.

And here are the grostesque ones. These are hard to take SS but I had to.

Animation, sound effects, OST? CHEF’S KISS TO ALL

And lastly... the tentacles. Yeah, if you’re new... this is a thing.

Fanservice. Fanservice everywhere. (low-key the reason I also waited to write this review, I wanted to enjoy this part so badly but I was too sad for that lmao)

Okay so. O’Bengh is suddenly OLD and DYING, until we realize that Stephen spent CENTURIES absorbing mystic beings. CENTURIES. WTF STEPHEN. He had nothing in mind but the goal to save Christine. And people wonder why he went insane???? I’m sorry, O’Bengh, but I can’t take you serious when you still call Stephen Sorcerer Armani. Oh, and also because you watched him absorb beings for centuries in silence lmao. But I guess I have to because you said that Stephen is split in two since the Ancient One cast a spell on him, splitting the timelines and making them exist in the same reality before he could travel back in time. I know, it’s complex. Anything for the plot.

And now good!Stephen has an evil!twin who wants to absorb him back in order to become whole and break the Absolute Point. Cool.

I said I wanted to talk more about Wong because I think people are not talking about him enough. Wong is so important in this episode. He’s the one who’s trying to heal Stephen after Christine. He’s Stephen’s anchor.

Also, THEY FINALLY USED A SPELL WITH THE NAME OF THE VISHANTI. HOORAAAAY

So, for the sake of our understanding, I’m addressing the characters as evil and good!Stephen. Let’s go. Evil!Stephen summons good!Stephen and gods, he still holds such a strong grasp on me... unbelievable. THE DEEPER VOICE BENEDICT USES???? PLEASE, DIDN’T WE HAVE ENOUGH?

Imagine his strength to hold so many beings inside him, fighting to control him. BRO, THIS IS TOO TOO MUCH

Fine, I’ll not post SS about the fight because I’d be here all night long but I WILL say this: NOT CLOAKIE!!!!! NAAAAAAAAAAUR

Also if you ask me if I recognize any of the spells? Maaaaybe the Flames of Faltine, the not-so-crimson Bands of Cyttorak and a little trick Magik does with her portals. That’s how far I go.

I’ll not comment on the “seducing yourself to stay in the trap”. I will not. I’ll just say that the first person Stephen thought of when “Christine” was talking about the crème brûlée was Wong. That’s it.

And finally evil!Stephen absorbs good!Stephen and releases... UNLIMITED POWER (I love when the stone goes red as if it was bleeding aaaaaaa)

I can fix him...

This scene here? Poetic cinema. (I love his wings so much)

And when Stephen says her name and the other monsters’ voices echo “Christine”, AAAAAACKKKK

AND OF COURSE CHRISTINE WOULD FREAK OUT, BRO. LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE BECOME BECAUSE OF YOUR TWISTED LOVE. I’M NOT DOING FINE.

Oh, but it’s too late anyways because Stephen broke reality haha. This scene is interesting because Stephen is the only one who sensed and/or talked to the Watcher until now. I read an interview that the Watcher kinda showed up but it’s also about Stephen’s keen senses. Bit of both, let’s say. Still, man, 616-Watcher is not that cold. 616-Watcher would watch this and say “how about I intervene anyway?”. WhatIf!Watcher is brutal.

The way Christine looks at Stephen one last time also KILLS ME, DESTROYS ME, BREAK ME INTO A MILLION PIECES.

And this is where my soul left my body.

This is how they end the episode. This is how you leave me speechless and with teary eyes. This is how you give me a whole existential crisis.

This... this was brutal to watch. Really.

What can I say after this? I’m used to reading painful things when it comes to Stephen. Aaron’s and Cates’ runs are heartbreaking on so many levels. Hickman’s New Avengers is not easier. Coincidentally, What If? Magik Became Sorcerer Supreme and The End. And now Death of Doctor Strange. And yet, after everything I’ve been through, I’d never expect to watch something so brilliant, so tragic, so heartbreaking and unexpected in the MCU. Never. This is top tier content and this is my favorite character with SO MANY LAYERS and SO MUCH UNDERSTANDING. I can’t put into words how meaningful this whole episode is to me, or how deep it touched my heart and soul.

I’ve been struggling to find the proper words since then, I still can’t. All I can add is, I cried for the 4th time now. This is too, too much, even for Stephen stans. Even for the ones who are used to pain, regardless of which media you’re into: comic books, live actions or animated movies. This is literally more than I can take and yet I’m so, so grateful. The voice acting, gods, how did Benedict manage to create a better Stephen than the one he’s literally playing in real life???????????? HOW

This episode really took the max potential Stephen had to offer as a character, added tons and tons of layers based on his grief, depression, arrogance and need to control everything and created a tragic masterpiece. In 7 years of being a Doctor Strange fan, I've never read or watch something that could go this deep into the character. The closest I can think of is Mr. Misery and the metaphor of Stephen's depression. This is a whole new level of respect and understanding. This is more than a love letter. This is peak maestry. It’s perfect, it’s heartbreaking, it’s... gods, I can’t.

Sorry for dragging you until this far. Before I wrap up this review, I just wanted to remind you all that Stephen will appear again, he will smile again, he will be surrounded by people again. So this is not the end. It was painful but be brave. We still have a few more steps to take.

#what if...?#doctor strange #stephen strange #what if doctor strange lost his heart instead of his hands?#wong #christine palmer #the ancient one #long post #review #he did nothing wrong #so what? he destroyed a whole universe #/j #benedict cumberbatch

172 notes · View notes

1kook · 4 years

Text

youtube & use lube

part 7 of my netflix and chill collection!

summary: You can’t believe this is Jungkook’s preferred sick day treatment; YouTube, cuddles, and an ugly amount of lube. warnings: smut in the forms of nipple play, handjobs, spit kink, face riding, unprotected, flavored warming lube, riding, praise kink, soft femdom, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, tit sucking, more jk has an impreg kink, oh and this is all subby kook rating: mature (18+) miscellaneous: domesticity baby!! fluff, soft scenes /.\, jk is sick:((, doyeon is A Doctor, yn sees an opportunity and she grabs it, surprise ending <3 word count: 8.7k

notes: finally…. 7 parts later and we get ~✨💓sub kook💓✨~ this was honestly my fave to write I think because I was obSESSEDDD with his softness and yn leading hehe /.\ also yeah we time jumped 6 months bc uhmmm 😎 story progression also here’s [ THE KOOK U SHOULD IMAGINE FOR THIS 😡 ] also if see a typo ummm no u didn't .

let me know what u think! a simple ask goes a long way <3

Despite what past experiences may dictate, Jungkook’s body is actually quite resilient. It’s due in part to his obnoxiously healthy lifestyle; avocado breakfasts, gym rat tendencies, and a normal person’s circadian rhythm (you could never relate). He lives the life health professionals can only dream of writing down in their notes, so careful of his well-being that it’s almost annoying. Of all the habits you help him break, the rituals he sometimes forgets, his health is never one and it’s actually one he ropes you into quite often. The ladder accident last summer had truly been an odd occurrence, and for a while after, you doubt anything else will ever happen to him.

And then winter comes.

Now, Jungkook, with all his superior bodily systems and strict lifestyle, is still not immune to the common cold. So when he comes down with a stuffy nose, a saggy frame, you’re not too surprised. It’s right after New Year’s, which you had spent it at one of Taehyung’s classic overcrowded parties this year, shivering on a rooftop as he kissed you silly under the fireworks, so one of you was bound to get sick. And you were sick for Halloween, so it’s only the universe’s way of leveling the playing field when he gets sick after New Years.

What does surprise you is when he doesn’t bounce back right away. Usually, Jungkook’s high caliber immune system has him in tip top shape about two days later. But this time around, it takes a while. In fact, it takes longer than usual, and you don’t realize until you’re coming over on a Friday night, met with an unusual silence at the Jeon household.

As you slowly grew accustomed to your life out of school, you and Jungkook accepted that you didn’t really have time to be glued to each other’s hips at all hours of the day. It was only natural that sometimes you had too much work, were too tired, or were just not in the mood to visit each other. That was fine, and you’ve come to quite appreciate this new routine, because it only made your heart flutter faster than before when you did see him next. You don’t have to see each other everyday, and that was fine; it was part of growing up together (and growing old together, your sappy heart says).

But today, this separation ends up being your downfall. Jungkook first showed signs of a cold on Monday, and now it was Friday and you hadn’t heard from him in two days. You’re beginning to suspect he’s come down with something severe— maybe that strain of the flu that he forgot to get vaccinated for this year —or even worse, dead.

Luckily, Jungkook isn’t dead, just sadly slumped across the end of his bed, nose a bright red and hair a tangled mess. “Oh no,” you frown, but there’s not an ounce of distress in your voice, because boy, was he cute.

He groans at the sight of you. “Don’t look at me,” he whimpers, hands fisting the sheets. “I’m ugly.”

You bite down on a smile, hang your bag on the hook behind his bedroom door. He’s barely making an effort to stay on the bed, clinging to the side with such powerless hands. “Absolutely hideous,” you play along, arms wrapping around his middle. Registering your touch, your support, he immediately releases what little grip he had and almost sends the two of you tumbling to the ground. “My poor baby,” you croon, manhandling him back into the comfort of his sheets.

Perhaps the reason you believed Jungkook was so immune was because, well, he never let you see him sick.

He was picky about his presentation to the world, always wanting to show his best side. And well, you were in that world. Hell, you were probably the main person he wanted to show off for (not to toot your own horn), so he avidly avoided showing you his unpleasant sides. Even in college, when you had been practically stuck to his side, he had always made a big deal of pushing you away when he was sick, calling off dates and hiding away at his house.

You sort of knew why. Namjoon had told you once that Jungkook when drunk was the equivalent of a needy, whiny baby. You could attest to that because wine drunk Jungkook and vodka drunk Jungkook were quite the experiences to haul home. And apparently Jungkook when sick was more or less the same. He was all doe eyes and pouty lips, magnified by his weakened appearance. He was adorable.

He’s wearing a lot of layers, but it’s still winter so you don’t think too much of it. Dark long sleeve sweatshirt, the front tucked into some cute brown and black checkered pants. You see it as just some casual at home attire until you reach for his covers, hand brushing his hair from his face, only to find it ice cold.

“Oh, you’re freezing, honey,” you frown, for real this time. Jungkook whimpers, snuggles into the sheets you pull up to his chin. He dozes off soon after, pouty lips chapped to hell and back. You reach for your chapstick, deciding to get one good use of it on your own lips before contaminating it with Jungkook’s sick germs. Even in his sleep he’s a good boy, rolling his lips together after you’ve applied it on him.

With Jungkook knocked out, you pad back downstairs and into his kitchen. You can more or less infer that he’s come down with something a little more intense than a cold. His skin was cold, and his nose was runny, but, oddly enough, he wasn’t sweating. You decide to consult a professional.

“The little gremlin is sick?” Doyeon repeats, a comforting buzz in your ear as you get to work making Jungkook your famous Get Better Soon Soup, idly waiting for the water to boil over. You confirm. Doyeon, legend that she was, accidentally sat an entire physiology class one semester (and passed), so this is the closest you’ll get to a doctor friend. “Hm,” she says, “what’re his symptoms?”

You press your phone between your ear and shoulder, clattering around Jungkook’s kitchen for ingredients. “Runny nose and colder than your ass that one time you passed out in the snow,” you supply. “Oh, but not sweating.”

Doyeon hums over the line, tells you to give her a second, and disappears. “WebMD is saying fever, but you said he’s not sweating?” You confirm again. “Throw him in front of the heater and make him sweat then. He has to burn it out somehow.”

“I can’t do that,” you sigh, pausing when you hear some vague sound from around the house. It’s not Jungkook, so you return to your call. Anyway, Jungkook’s house is, like, perfect. Always warm when need be and always cold as well. You don’t even think he knows what a space heater is. “He’s sick sick. Like, can barely hold himself up sick.”

She scoffs. “And I care why?” You huff, go to scold her for their weird rivalry, but then she’s moving on. “Babe, just give him some pain relief and call it a day.”

“Fine,” you mumble. “Wait, can you look something else up for me?”

Anyway, Jungkook probably has a fever, except it’s weird because he’s not sweating it out. He wakes up about an hour later, but this time he’s more self aware. He eats his soup and takes the medicine you offer him. Afterwards, he can’t go back to sleep so he huffily asks for his iPad and begins watching some weirdly specific YouTube videos you don’t think you’ve ever seen him watch before.

You have absolutely no idea what he’s watching, some niche videos of guys in Singapore turning random forest areas into underwater pools? You don’t know. Jungkook seems interested, though, for all of ten minutes until he falls asleep again.

He’s still cold, poor baby, nose like an ice cube that just won’t melt. You find a heating pad you left over in his closet and place it on his chest. Your thought process is that if his heart, the source of all energy, was warm, then certainly the rest of him will warm up soon enough. Yeah, you missed the last three seasons of Grey’s Anatomy; you were a little rusty.

So with Jungkook fast asleep and nothing else to do, you assume the age-old, patriarchal task of cleaning around the house.

His house was usually neat and tidy, mostly as a result of Jungkook’s virgo manifestations, but even those varied. His living room tended to be spotless, but his personal office was a different story. But with him having been out of it this past week, the entire house is littered in tiny garbage that would make Normal Jungkook burst a blood vessel.

There’s a pile of Reese’s wrappers in the downstairs bathroom, on the sink next to his toothbrush. The sight makes you sad, because your poor boy must have been struggling if he was eating candy in the bathroom, where he… uses the bathroom. And then that thought makes you even sadder, thinking back to all the times he was sick and alone, fending for himself out of his weird embarrassment of showing normal body functions.

You had thought he was cute when you first arrived— he still was —but he was also so weak and frail, bulky muscles rendered useless by whatever bacteria was attacking his body, making him sleepy and in pain for god knows how long. With a resolute nod, you sweep all the wrappers into the trash and decide to do your very best at helping Jungkook get through this sickness and bounce back better than ever.

Before leaving his bathroom, you ransack his cabinets, deciding he probably keeps most of his antibiotics here. It’s a spot you never really snoop around, because Jungkook always keeps a fully stocked basket in his closet filled with your typical necessities— from conditioner to pads to nail polish remover, he kept it all. And furthermore, you always tended to use his upstairs bathroom anyway, so that’s where your toothbrush and the like were kept. There was really no need for you to ever look through the downstairs bathroom’s cabinet. So the downstairs bathroom cabinet is practically the other side of the world to you, a culture shock so strong it has you plopping down in front of it to thoroughly sift through.

He’s got a disgusting amount of hair products, none of which you actually think you’ve ever seen him use, and a maniacal amount of tooth stuff. Now, you were quite possibly the biggest proponent for dental care, but this was ridiculous. Four packs of floss on reserve, and about three cases of those dental picks. A whole family pack of toothbrushes and one of those cute little cases for his retainer you’ve seen a few times.

So overwhelmed with his ungodly stash of dental hygiene utilities, you almost miss the pretty pink tube hidden in the very back corner.

You’re thinking it’s some makeup primer you left before that he mistook for moisturizer, probably dumped it with all his other things, only to find out you are very, very wrong.

Sensation Warming Lubricant: NOW! in strawberry flavor

You blink.

Lubricant? Jungkook was using lubricant? Strawberry, sensation warming lubricant?!

Somewhere in your mind you had convinced yourself that Jungkook was a simple man, a lotion at his bedside drawer type of man. He had you for the last one and half year, and you two fucked like rabbits, so you hardly doubt he was jacking it alone these days. And even if he was, why on earth was he so specific about the type of lube he uses?

You turn the bottle around, eyes scanning for an expiration date or something of the like, only to find that the copyright symbol was under this current year. The year that had just started, like, two weeks ago.

Oh, so this was new.

You turn it over, eyes scanning over the warnings like it’ll tell you something about your boyfriend you don’t know yet, some other hidden secret that he’s maybe held from you. Granted, owning lube isn’t really a big deal, but the fact he’s got it so hidden away (not really, it was casually sitting beside his sunscreen) was definitely something to zero in on.

Strawberry flavored, you read again, warming, stimulating, edible? Forget his weirdly extensive floss collection, you had stumbled upon something amazing in here, the goddamn Hope Diamond among snooping girlfriend finds. You’ll confront him about this later, you decide, when he’s back to normal and not whiningly calling your name from upstairs. You pocket it for now, tucking it into your cardigan pockets for said later interrogation, and bound up the stairs to him again.

He’s sitting up in bed like a very angry and confused toddler, brows furrowed sharply like he’s mad. Actually, he just can’t see, the light from the hallway blinding him, so you shut the door and flick on his bedside lamp for him instead. “Hi, honey,” you coo, sitting down on the edge beside him. He’s still waking up, leaning a little too heavily into your palm when you cup his face. “How’re you feeling?”

“Terrible,” he rasps out, but he’s definitely looking better than before. You don’t know if you imagine it, but there’s this slowly accumulating sweat that forms along the base of his neck. “Please don’t leave again,” he says softly, droopy eyes glassy.

Something shoots straight to your heart— an arrow from Cupid himself! —that makes you stroke his cheek tenderly until his eyelids are fluttering shut again. “I won’t,” you promise, feeling around for his iPad. He doesn’t seem like he’ll fall back asleep, sitting up with more strength than he had that morning.

You end up climbing behind him, let him be the little spoon you know he secretly craves to be, as he watches his weird YouTube videos again. His body is so warm against yours, but his skin is still so cold. If what Doyeon had said was true, it’s no wonder he’s kept the same sickness all week. The rhythmic sound of machetes hacking at the earth and water trickling through bamboo pipes grows on you, makes you fall into a sense of comfort behind him, arms tracing circles over his chest.

It’s a mindless habit, one you actually do a lot. Most of the time, it’s when he’s at his desk and stressed out, your masseuse hands making an appearance to soothe the muscles in his neck and chest from being hunched over for so long. Even now, your fingers unconsciously press into the fabric over his pecks, tickle up his sternum until he’s melting against you.

It takes one quiet whimper from him to let you know exactly how he’s feeling. “Everything alright?” you inquire, halting your movements over his chest. Jungkook nods shakily, head lolling forward. The nape of his neck calls to you, whispers for a kiss that you tenderly bestow upon it. It makes Jungkook jolt, another pretty sound leaving his lips at the press of your warm lips against his sensitive neck.

“No more,” he mumbles, rolls his head around until it’s resting against your shoulder, giving you a clear view down his chest. You slide your hands back up from where they’d gone stiff just around his ribs, let them palm over his pecs. Jungkook’s hips buck, a minuscule movement you almost miss.

His heart thunders like the inside of a horse race track beneath your palm, breath picking up just from the simple motion of your hands on his chest. It’s on the fourth circle around his pecs that you feel your pinky briefly catch on something. “Poor thing,” you sigh, running the pad of your pointer finger over the hardened nipple that peaks beneath his sweatshirt. “Is this what was bothering you?”

A shaky exhale in response, hands tightly clutching at his iPad and beloved YouTube video genre. “N-No,” he denies, but you chance a peak at his face, where his lips are bitten a rosy pink color, its slightly muted sister rushing down his cheeks, over his neck.

You press the lightest of kisses to the side of his neck, and he shivers. “Need me to take care of you?” you purr, trail your hands down his chest towards where the hem of his sweater sits. You run your finger over it twice, before moving to slip your hand beneath. Your fingers brush along his abs, contracted tightly at your touch, and slowly make their way back up his chest.

Fingers find his pebbled nipples, a gasp escaping his lips. “Does this feel good?” you ask softly, pinching the swollen nubs between your fingers. Jungkook groans, body arching just the slightest as you rub his nipples, tug and twist them until he’s a whining mess. “Need you to tell me, honey,” you encourage, lips ghosting over his neck.

The second kiss has him flinching as well, head rapidly turning the other way as you slowly kiss over his neck. “___, please,” he pants, knuckles pale on the sides of the iPad. You're afraid it’ll snap, if not from his grip then from the way he pushes at it, like he’s breaking a wooden board over his knee. It’s still on YouTube, playing another video from the same collection, volume competing with Jungkook’s tiny sounds.

Pressing your lips to his neck, you kiss along it slowly, reveling in the lovely noises that Jungkook produces the more you rub his nipples, lower body squirming animatedly before you. Your kisses grow wet for a short period, suck purple blossoms across his skin until Jungkook is quivering like a leaf. “E-Enough,” he begs, voice a wobbly mess that is so light and airy.

You grin, giving his rockhard nipples one last flick before sliding your hands down his chest, over his stomach to toy with the elastic of his pants. He inhales sharply, iPad nearly snapped in half mid video. Ready to play with him some more (and slightly afraid for the future of his tablet), you reach out a hand to move it away, set it off to the side.

But Jungkook doesn’t release it. In fact, he clings to the damn piece of tech tighter than before. “Hmm?” you murmur, bottom lip brushing against his neck once more. “Not letting go, sweetheart?”

He shakes his head, soft crown of curls bouncing from the movement. “Can’t, can’t,” he shivers. His knees shift back and forth, move between being casually spread and flush together. Like he’s hiding something, using the iPad and the videos on screen as cover. You tug at his wrist and Jungkook shakes his head again.

You change tactics, hand sliding around his wrist instead. The other travels up, up, up, comes curling around the base of his neck. Jungkook whimpers, tilts his head back for you cutely at the first brush of your fingers against his Adam’s apple. “Thought you were my good boy?” you ask, eyes zeroed in on the tremble of his lower lip.

Jungkook exhales shakily, a rather torn expression crossing his features. “I am,” he insists, fingers still tight “I am your good boy.”

You smile, stroking the front of his neck softly as you lean down to press a kiss against his cheek. “You are, aren’t you?” He whimpers. “Then let go, honey,” you murmur, hand on his wrist giving another experimental tug. Still, his grip remains solid. “Jungkook,” you snap, “let go.”

“Y-You’ll laugh,” he cries, yet his grip slowly weakens. It’s with a swift tug that the iPad tumbles to his side, presses against his hip, and shows you the raging hard-on that stirs beneath the front of his cotton pants. Pressed nearly beside your ear, Jungkook shivers.

Ever so slowly, your hands return to their place around his waist. “Why would I laugh, sweetheart?” you mumble, marveling at the way his cock twitches and jumps beneath his pants before you can even touch it. His shirt is hiked up just above his abs, your hands tenderly stroking over the skin beneath his navel, but it’s got Jungkook writhing. “Hips up for me,” you instruct.

He shakes even when he pushes himself up, knees wobbling as you slip your hands beneath his waistband and tug them down his thighs. Afterwards, his legs flop forward flatly, spread out with his beautiful swollen cock on display against his hip.

You trap it at the base and Jungkook mewls, hands fisting the sheets now that his beloved iPad has been snatched away. It’s still playing his videos, interrupting his saccharine moans with corny ads every few minutes. A hand snaps up to join, opposite of yours, until your fingers are entwined around his dick. How romantic, you think, discreetly rolling your hips back against the mattress. “Gonna help me make you cum?” you ask instead, give him a light squeeze that makes him jolt.

“Uh huh,” he responds, feathery.

You reward him with a kiss to his cheek, reaching up to brush away the hair that’s begun sticking to his forehead. In the very back of your head you recognize this as being good for his fever, but the rest of you is more concerned with the pretty pout on his lips. “Hold tight for me,” you smile, releasing his cock to press your finger against the very tip of his cock where a pearly drop of precum has begun forming. “So pretty, Jungkookie,” you praise, teasing the length of your finger over the slit on his head. It has that juicy droplet coating your finger, gliding seamlessly over and over again.

The simple touch makes him buck, has him blindly wrapping an arm around your bent knee that was pressed to his side this whole time. He squeezes around you rather weakly, the majority of his strength going to holding his cock tightly like you’d instructed. He’s such a good boy for you, trying his absolute best, even when you’re very obviously overwhelming him.

You roll the flat side of your finger over him, his mushroom tip slowly growing more and more slick as he produces more precum. It’s shiny, fits perfectly between your clasped fingers when you squeeze around his head. Jungkook’s breath turns labored.

He’s always so well kept down there, skin so smooth and free of hairs, and you know he does it because he wants to impress you. “So pretty, baby,” you hum, acknowledging his efforts. Your praise makes Jungkook moan, suddenly fucking up into his hand. It’s accidental, because he hisses at the drag of his dry palm around his relatively dry dick immediately.

“Hurts, hurts,” he whimpers prettily, lower lip caught between his teeth.

You frown, slide your wet fingers down the base of his cock until they’re wrapping around his and Jungkook’s little gasps even out. “I’m sorry, baby, you gotta be patie—“

Something presses against your hip, something distinctly hard that you had hastily picked up from his bathroom cabinet earlier, and a whole new door opens before your eyes. “Hold still for me,” you tell him quickly as you release your grip around his cock. Jungkook wails at the separation, but you’re more concerned with wrestling the tube out of your pocket with one hand. It’s heavy in your palm, turning over until that big fat label on front comes into view again.

Jungkook explodes at the sight. “Wh— Where did you find that?” he stammers, cheeks ablaze. “I-I don’t know where that came fro—“

You ignore him, hold the bottle of lubricant over his stomach as you uncap it, a gooey pink substance spilling over into your hands the moment the lid pops off. Jungkook is still rambling away about the origins of the bottle, as if you care. You set the bottle on his tummy, the cold plastic makes him shiver. But you know what’s not cold? The warming lube in your hands that only takes three rubs of your palms to activate.

You latch down like a crazed animal around his cock. With both your hands fighting to grip at his cock, you’re pressed closer against Jungkook, lips against the shell of his ear.

The initial touch makes him sob, back arching and legs kicking at the sheets piled at the foot of the bed as your slick hands track the lube over his dick. “No!” he cries, hands wildly reaching out to grab whatever he can as you slowly get to work pulling him off. “I-I can’t, __, I can’t.”

“You can,” you coo, watching the translucent pink substance coat his cock, join his sticky precum.

Maybe you get overexcited in your efforts, forget Jungkook is the way he is right now because he was still a little weak from his fever, but you go crazy on stroking his cock. One hand lingers around the base, squeezing and rolling over his balls, palm pressing against the hardened sac and squeezing there too. The other focuses at the tip, does most of the actual stroking over his cock. His head is leaking precum now, every stroke and squeeze making him shudder and push out another drop, until it’s mixing with the lube to form a sticky sweet substance that you wanna lick at so bad.

So you do.

You release one hand to curiously bring it up to your face, turning it over and around as you examine the stickiness on your fingers, the fat drop that unintentionally drips onto the front of Jungkook’s sweatshirt. He sobs at the sight of your lips around your fingers, squirms and bucks into the hand still on his cock until he’s embarrassingly coming. “I’m sorry,” he wails, hands fisting the sheets, fucking into your hand like a virgin. “I didn’t— I didn’t mean to.”

You draw your hand away, watching in slow motion the cum that just spurted from his cock come dribbling down the slowly softening length now. “Oh, sweetheart,” you croon, hands on his tummy. The bottle of lube slips to the side, meets the still playing iPad at his hip. It’s sticky and gross to touch him like this, especially when you know Jungkook hates being unnecessarily dirty, but you can’t stop yourself from softly caressing him, soothe him after such a hard-hitting orgasm.

Honestly you had thought he would hold up a little more, let you get in a few more strokes, but he must’ve been more sensitive than you thought. “I’m sorry,” he cries again, head lolling to the side to meet your gaze with watery eyes.

You tilt his head to the side, angle him just right for you to bestow your first kiss of the night against his little pout. Jungkook hiccups, melts against you as you slowly guide him through the kiss. He’s sloppy and shy, moves nothing like your normal Jungkook, and that fact alone has you slipping your tongue past his lips. He doesn’t fight back, just lets you play with him and sighs all delicately against your mouth.

There’s something about this, his soft and submissive attitude, that has you pulling away to look at him. Big brown eyes, glassed over with unshed tears, and plush lips that call your name. And yet.

“Open,” you murmur, hypnotized by the way that tiny mouth moves.

“Huh?” Jungkook flushes, but he’s so good, he’s your good boy, and does so anyway. Lower lip quivers as he parts his lips, stuttering exhales creeping through as you purse your lips, let the saliva collect on your mouth, before rudely spitting into his. He flinches, whimpers softly, and swallows. He looks at you with these expectant eyes, like he wants to hear how much of a good boy he is, so you do exactly that.

You brush his bangs away lovingly. “Aren’t you just so good for me,” you purr, revel in the way his eyes flutter shut at your touch, like you could never hurt him, and you won’t.

As sweet as the moment is, there’s a raging fire in your core begging to be stroked, and your hyperfixation on Jungkook’s mouth lets you know there’s only one way to chase the feeling. “Up,” you tell Jungkook, who whimpers sadly when you finally escape from behind him.

But you don’t get too far, settling beside him on the bed until you’re looking at the damage you’ve caused from the front. His skin is sticky in some places, pink sheen of the lube decorating him from your incessant touching. Pants around his thighs, shirt against his chest. His face is flushed, all the way down to his chest and up to his ears, so rosy and pink all for you. He shies away under your gaze, drops his head to his chin bashfully.

You grin, shuffle forward to turn those pretty eyes back towards you. “Messy little thing,” you tease, slotting your mouths together again. Jungkook moans this time, lazily kissing you back. His lips move in slow motion, trembling hands reaching for your face to cup, your name falling from his lips when you pull away slightly. “Need you to help me out now,” you murmur, hand on his jaw. “Can you do that, honey?” Jungkook nods hurriedly, eyes foggy and on your mouth. “Lay back.”

He does so, rushes to lay against the pillows until he’s flat on his back. You get to work on your clothes, shed your cardigan and languidly tug your top over your head in the way you know makes your breasts bounce. Beneath you, Jungkook whines at the sight. “You too,” you remind him, wiggling out of your jeans. At your instruction, he begins fumbling with his clothes, pants and underwear haphazardly thrown over the edge of the bed.

By the time you’re naked, you’re met with a rather amusing sight.

In his haste to take his clothing off, Jungkook seems to have gotten himself tangled in his long sleeves, shirt awkwardly bunched up around his wrists and twisted over some. You chuckle. “Help please,” he asks so politely, shaking his arms back and forth above his head. But you’re genuinely confused as to what he did, because one of the sleeves wraps around the other, pins the bulk of the fabric to his skin, and then the other wraps around that. A mess you don’t bother dissecting, simply climbing over him. He complains, of course, soft huffs you wave off.

“Don’t need them anyway,” you shrug, can’t help the lovesick look you send him when you brush his hair away for the umpteenth time. Jungkook leans into the touch sweetly, rosy cheek pressed against your palm. “Lemme see your pretty little tongue,” you order, pussy clenching when he does as told and rolls his tongue out for you, tip pressed against his bottom lip. “Good boy.”

A soft whimper, and then you’re shuffling over him, pretty doe eyes watching with amazement when you finally hover over his face. “For me?” he asks so softly, so sweetly.

It’s a question you’ve heard him utter countless times before in similar settings, always with a cocky grin and mean eyes, ready to send you to hell and back with his tongue or his cock. But it’s different now, big shiny eyes looking at you like you’re the greatest thing to ever happen in his life, so pliant and demure beneath your touch like he lived to serve you.

“All for you,” you assure him, get comfortable, and slowly lower your pussy over his face. His eyes flutter shut immediately, pink tongue ready for you by the time your dripping cunt nears his face.

You can’t help the moan that tears itself from your throat, a soft cry as he begins lapping against your folds. He’s so tender, so careful. It drives you crazy. Hands above his head squirming as you slowly grind your pussy over his face, more mindful than usual because he was so delicate tonight, like a baby bird that shivers with the simplest touch.

His tongue is smooth, circles around your clit. He nudges your bundle of nerves back and forth a few times, sends an initial wave of tingles down your spine, before taking it between puckered lips. His slurps it into his mouth, where it’s so hot and wet, it makes your grind stutter. “Oh,” you pant, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair. “P-Perfect,” you mumble.

The praise makes his features twist up cutely, mouth desperate to get more out of you. “You like that?” you gasp, holding his head still as he runs his tongue along your folds. Jungkook nods, eyes glazed over as he messily begins eating you out. “Like when I tell you you’re a good boy, Jungkookie?”

He lets out a broken whine, the vibrations shooting up your spine and making you shiver. Tongue pressed in at your entrance, prods gently like it’s his first time (it’s not) and he’s gauging your reactions. “Oh baby,” you shudder, fingers tightening in his curls.

He looks like an angel beneath you like this, halo of curls artfully splayed across the sheets, arms knotted above his head. Big pretty eyes that make you want to lay down and be his bitch instead, their power just so strong even when he’s whining and whimpering against your pussy like this. His tongue dips into your cunt, makes you buck against him by accident. “I’m sorry, angel,” you breathe, so caught up in your thoughts that the name just slips. It makes Jungkook’s cheeks flush a pretty pink, arms tug at their makeshift restraints. But his brain is scattered, torn between releasing himself, eating you out, and being shy.

He settles soon enough, ends up just sticking his tongue out flat for you to grind against, using the grip in his curls to drag your pussy over his face. His scalp feels warm, sweat clinging to his hairline. He sighs endearingly against you, and it’s that final puff of warm air against your folds that has you coming, cum dripping over his lips and chin sinfully.

When you finish, you quickly get off of him, lay down beside him. Jungkook is panting softly, tongue peeking out to taste the cum that splattered against the corner of his lips. “You were so good for me,” you praise, idly dragging your finger across his skin, collecting your cum on the tip.

Jungkook looks at you with a heavy gaze, knotted wrists slowly returning to rest over his abdomen. “Can you… Can you call me that again?” he asks hesitantly, so shy and polite.

“Hm?” you ask. “Angel?” His lips part, an awfully aroused look crossing his features. You smile, press your cum loaded finger against his lips and he opens, sucks around your finger and moans. “My pretty little angel,” you purr, slowly thrusting your finger in and out of his mouth. Before you can stop yourself, you’re leaning over to kiss him again, swallowing his cries in your desperate need to taste yourself on his tongue. Jungkook is more active this time around, daringly challenging your tongue with his before ultimately giving up, languidly following the pace you set for the kiss. You pull off with a pop, leave him dazed and trailing after your mouth cutely.

You pat his cheek once, offer him a tender smile, before moving to get up and clean up. Jungkook whines at your departure, and it’s only once you’ve sat up that you realize why.

Half hard cock at his hip, fattening slowly but surely. Instantly, it’s like the post-orgasm fatigue is yanked away, pussy throbbing at the sight of your angel and his cock, swelling from eating you out and kissing. He was too good to be true.

“Oh, you poor thing,” you sigh dramatically, shifting onto your knees at his hip to look at him. Something pokes your leg; it’s the stupid iPad playing his dorky YouTube videos that you click off and chuck to the other side of the bed. You had had enough of that by now.

He’s not at full mast yet, and he’s not getting there quick enough for your liking. So you take matters into your own hands. (Besides, what was stopping you tonight? Certainly not this soft, pliant Jungkook.)

Kneeling between his legs, you reach for the forgotten bottle of lube, squirt a fat glob into your hands, then decide that isn’t enough and squirt it directly onto your chest. Jungkook watches with wide eyes, lower lip caught between his teeth. “What— What’re you doing?” he stammers, can’t even sit up with his hands held together. “__, y-you don’t have—“

Squeezing your breasts together, you slip his cock between the crevice, watch as his angry head comes out on the other side so easily, so slippery. Oh, this was gonna be post-work, shower-time, spank bank material for months.

Jungkook sobs, loud and unfiltered at the sight, expression torn as he watches you slowly work your tightened breasts down his quickly hardening member. “T-Too much, too much,” he cries, squirming and bucking beneath you. “I-I’ll come—”

“Don’t,” you snap, stilling your moments to flick your eyes back to him. His head is rolled back, jaw strained, but when he manages to lift it up and look down at you, there’s tears that streak his cute face, trails that glisten when the lowlight of the lamp hits him just right. “Don’t fucking come yet, Jungkook.”

He sniffles weakly, more tears spilling from his eyes. “But I— it feels,” he blubbers, knotted hands reaching down for the base of his cock. You slap it away. “___, please,” he wails, face flushed from all his conflicting emotions.

Ignoring his cries, you get back to work, moving your upper body to and fro to simulate the thrusting motion he is too weak to do himself. He whimpers pitifully, more tears leaving his eyes when you lean down and spit on the head of his cock when it emerges next, make it join the rest of the ungodly fluids painting your chest. Honestly, you’re certain it’s that damned strawberry flavored, sensation warming, edible lube that makes this experience so enjoyable, so mind-blowing.

Jungkook seems to agree, stuttering out a messy whine. “Feels weird,” he snivels, only to be cut off when you release him from in between your tits. Immediately, he begins lamenting the loss.

Slowly, you ease him back in. You’re beginning to understand the intensity of that damned warming lube, because with each glide of his cock between your breasts, it’s like a tingle of nerves sparks within you, insides folding in on themselves as they channel all their energy to that one area of hastily spread lube. It feels so good and wet and messy, Jungkook’s whiny sniffles only fueling the experience. His cock twitches dangerously, and you flash him a glare. “Jungkook,” you warn.

“I’m sorry,” he weeps, thrashing back and forth as if that makes it any easier. “I just— I want,” he chokes, hips bucking into the suction you’ve created between your boobs. Tentatively, you stick your tongue out, let his tip brush against it on the next thrust. Jungkook curses, a feral groan escaping his lips. “Wanna fuck,” he seethes, “now.”

It’s but a slight peek into his regular personality, his normal mannerisms. But something about it now annoys you. In fact, it pisses you off, seeing him be so complacent and sweet just to try and overthrow you at the last second. And it’s with this same train of thought that you release him, climb over him like a crazed sex demon, and press your hand to his throat.

“You're supposed to be good,” you spit, scowl turned on him and it immediately has Jungkook drawing back with his tail tucked, falling into line as he should. “You’re supposed to be my angel tonight, remember?”

Jungkook nods, big round eyes looking at you like you’re insane, but the cock that presses against your ass tells you that he likes it. “I-I’m sorry,” he stutters, shrinking back into the mattress. Sticky hands around his throat, probably make him warm and tingly, but all you can think about is those pretty eyes. Sensing your wavering emotions, he takes advantage by tilting his chin forward for you cutely, pink lips trembling as he silently asks for a kiss.

You release him.

“Stupid angel,” you huff, mouth against his. “Gonna make me mad if you don’t act right,” you remind him, pushing his sweaty curls away from his face. He whimpers against your mouth, let’s you play with his hair as you calm down. He’s a blushing mess beneath you, every inch of him flushed and warm and sweaty.

You shift back and are met with his still rock hard member against your ass. You touch him appreciatively, reaching back to stroke him with a half-assed grip. It makes him moan nonetheless, pulling away from your lips to mewl against your shoulder. “Wanna fuck?” you hum, curling your hand over the tip like he likes, watching his head roll back against his pillow at the sensation. Jungkook groans, doesn’t seem to hear you now. You try again. “Wanna fuck my pussy, baby?”

“Yes,” he gasps this time, jolts when you press the tip of your finger against the slit on his head, plug his cock from releasing any more precum. “Please, please,” he begs, the hands on his chest straining against the shirt he still hasn’t managed to shake off.

One last kiss is delivered to him, a chaste one against his pout that makes him whine. “Whatever you want,” you purr, line him up.

Your hands are still sticky with the lube and so is his cock. Everything is sticky; his cock, you folds, your tits, his neck. It’s a big sticky, slippery mess, but you can’t even be annoyed because everything feels so good. Your tits tingle from whatever they put in that damn lube, nipples rock hard and extra swollen today, like if you don’t touch them you’ll die. You sink back into Jungkook’s throbbing cock, and the second his cock spreads the lube along your walls, you’re jolting because it just feels so damn good.

You can’t believe this is Jungkook’s preferred sick day treatment; YouTube, cuddles, and an ugly amount of lube.

His cock pushes past your folds, fits snugly inside of you just like it belongs. It still feels like the first time, feels like your first day where he was so perfect and sweet. Part of you wonders what would have become of you two if he had reacted like this that day, soft and whiny, when you first prepositioned him. Maybe the sexual aspect of your relationship would be entirely different today, maybe you’d be one the always leading.

But… you’re not sure if you’d want that. Leading is fun— hell, you’re certain this moment will be what you get engraved on your tombstone —but you were a pillow princess at heart with occasional dominant tendencies. You drool over this moment now, but if he asks for this again tomorrow you might actually bend over and die. It was a lot of work, keeping the energy going, and you find yourself having this newfound sense of respect for Jungkook as his cock slips past your folds.

Anyway, when you sit on his cock, fingers teasingly tightening around his throat, Jungkook’s eyes are weirdly focused on your tits. He’s been doing that a lot lately, losing his mind by just staring at your tits. On some occasions he puts them in his mouth, gets possessed by some titty loving monster and sucks on them until you’re trembling. It’s fine because it’s quite frankly a huge ego boost, but something him now makes you want to pick at him for it.

“They’re yours to taste, angel,” you hum, slowly rolling your hips over his fat cock. Jungkook whimpers, softly ruts up into your heat the next time you press down. “Tell me what you want,” you exhale, a breathy moan.

He doesn’t say anything, just drops his mouth open for you with a trembling lower lip. Tongue peeks out, eyes glazed over in his lust, looking every bit like those hentai ads he hates so much. But you fulfill his wishes, help him sit up until he’s flush against your chest. His awkwardly bound hands get squished in the middle, and he says, “m-my hands...”

“I’ve got you,” you soothe, undo his self-made restraints and toss them to the side. Immediately, he’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush against him to latch his lips around your breasts. “S-Slow down,” you whine, hands on his biceps as he sucks your tit into his mouth, twirls his tongue around your nipple. He’s good with his tongue even when he’s sick.

He pulls off with a pop, ragged breathing only making you more sensitive as it fans over the thin layer of saliva he leaves on your tits. “Tastes like strawberries,” he groans wondrously, head against your chest. You use the lull to get back to fucking yourself on him, but Jungkook’s got other plans. He rolls the two of you over, pins you beneath him with his hot and sweaty body. “I’m sorry,” he moans as he begins jackhammering his thrusts into you.

Your back arches, legs thrown around his waist as the sudden change of events. “Fffuck,” you heave, “harder, angel— gotta fuck like you mean it.”

Jungkook shudders, hands looped around the small of your back. His cock rams into you over and over, each glide of it against the walls of your pussy making you unravel in his arms. His lips latch around your other boob, suck and suck like he’s expecting something to come out.

That’s when it hits you.

“N-Nothing there,” you tell him, arms wrapped around his shoulders. His lashes are wet, eyes pinching tighter at your reminder. He pulls away almost to protest, but then you’re guiding him up to your face, hot breath mingling with yours. “Nothing there because you haven’t given me a baby yet,” you murmur darkly, watch the emotions flood his features as you tap into that taboo kink of his.

He chokes, grinds his cock into you and holds it there. “I-I didn’t,” he sniffs, “we never— you never said,” he whines, “...you wanted one.”

You cup his face in his hands, feel slightly mean for the pride you get from his tear stricken appearance. “I do,” you purr, lazily kissing him. “Want one if it’s from you. Don’t you?” He nods like an antsy puppy, quivering against you as he slowly and shallowly ruts into you. “Don’t you wanna see me like that, angel?” you egg on, hands looping behind his neck, idly playing with stray waves and curls. “Tummy so big and swollen because you did something bad, because you couldn’t pull out.”

Jungkook sobs, pulls you impossibly closer until the head of his cock is missing your cervix repeatedly. One of your legs is pressed nearly to your chest, hip tight from the force in which he holds you. “I-I want,” he agrees, more tears spilling down his cheeks.

You smirk evilly, kissing the corner of his mouth gently as he slowly picks up the pace of his thrusts. “Then fuck me hard, Jungkookie,” you demand, “fuck me full of your cum.”

Jungkook nods with a sniffle against your shoulder, fingers tightening against your skin as he slowly but surely begins nailing you into the mattress. He’s a good boy, always, because he does exactly what you tell him to. Uses those bulky muscles to hold you down, makes it impossible for you to move as he pistons his hips, cock sheathing itself inside your cunt.

Every drag makes you unconsciously clench, the raw feeling consuming your thoughts. His cock is so big and wet today, certainly due to that stupid lube from beneath his cabinet. Your entire pussy feels like it’s on ecstasy, stupidly geeked up by that lube, and you’re sure Jungkook’s cock feels the same. It makes the glide so much better, so much easier, each ram of his cock feeling so easy. “Oh, fuck,” you whimper, nails digging down his spine. Jungkook is a sobbing, sniffling mess against the crook of your neck, absolute gibberish falling from his lips.

But you’re no better, tongue seemingly set on a chaotic rampage to validate every single one of his fantasies. “Gonna fuck me while I’m pregnant?” you pant against his ear, fingers tugging at his hair. He doesn’t offer more than a strained cry, thrusts momentarily falling out of rhythm. “You would like that, huh? Fucking me when you’re not supposed to. You’re so bad, Kook-ah,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Only pretend to be an angel but really you’re just a dirty, little pervert.”

He wails loudly, slams his hips so hard into you that it makes you sob as well. “N-No,” he blubbers, tears against your skin. “I’m good— I’m a good boy,” he stresses, fingers bruising their prints into your skin.

He presses so close, cock practically making your stomach bulge, but neither of you see. “Dirty angel,” you spit, yank his hair back roughly until he’s forced to look at you with that watery gaze. “So horny you’re willing to get me pregnant.”

Jungkook cries out, snaps his cock into you like he’s trying to break you in half. “No,” he heaves, tears dripping down his cheeks and onto yours. “I-I-I’d do it right,” he defends weakly, hips losing their demonic pace as his orgasm sneaks up on him. “Ma— Marry first… then, b— ba— bab—“

You swallow his words with your lips, kiss him like you’re on the verge of death in a desperate attempt to hide your tears from him. They paint your cheeks in stark strokes, trail down your skin and make everything blurry, but so does your orgasm.

You come first, heart and body trembling at his unexpectedly sweet words, as you become a whimpering, teary mess beneath him. Jungkook follows, cries out your name one last time as he busts inside of you.

Sticky and gross, he falls onto the pillow beside you. Poor baby is so tired, curls covering half of his face, but lips cutely puckered against the pillow. He’s sweaty as hell though, which you now vaguely remember was your original goal with all of this so you count this as a success.

You think he’s fallen asleep, sitting up slowly and reaching for that t-shirt that bound him together earlier to clean up. He shudders when you run it against his skin, obviously still overwhelmed. You shift around the bed in search of today’s MVP. “Where’s the lube?” you mutter to yourself.

Jungkook groans. “YouTube?” he asks, voice dry as all hell.

“No, honey, the lube we used,” you respond, running your hands over the sheets for any signs of the pink bottle.

“Want YouTube,” he mumbles, lets you swaddle him up in the blanket again. You roll your eyes and reach for the forgotten iPad that had long since tumbled to the floor. When it turns on, that same video from before is on pause so you don’t bother changing it as you hand it back to Jungkook. “Nice,” he murmurs, “underground water slide.”

You snort. “Weirdo.” He glares cutely, eyes barely open at this point. “Watch your YouTube.”

“Use your lube,” he sasses back softly, nonsensically, and then rather anticlimactically passes out.

There’s something soft in your chest, something so big and overwhelming, that has you bending over his sleeping figure, mouth brushing against his. “Hurry and get better, angel,” you whisper, wish on it with all your heart.

To no one’s surprise, you get sick two days later. Doyeon laughs and laughs for hours about it, tells you that’s what you get for using sex as medicine. But Jungkook’s back to normal, which means he stays over and coddles you to death.

“Hurry and get better,” he says, spoon feeding you your famous Get Better Soon Soup that you passed on to him. “I have a question to ask you.”

There’s a little black box in his downstairs bathroom cabinet that you swear you’ve never seen, but Jungkook knows you’re lying.

It fits perfectly.

epilogue

She scoffs. “And I care why?” You huff, go to scold her for their weird rivalry, but then she’s moving on. “Babe, just give him some pain relief and call it a day.”

“Fine,” you mumble. “Wait, can you look something else up for me?”

#bangtanhq #networkbangtan #goldenclosetnet #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jjk♡#jungkook x reader smut #bts smut #mine

2K notes · View notes

gingeraleluke · 3 years

Text

𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗿𝘀

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: tom holland x fem!reader

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: your boyfriend got home just in time to watch his most recent interview on tv with you.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: swearing, nothing just fluff! :)

𝗔/𝗡: this is my first time writing for tom so i hope you guys like it!! <3

this is based on the spider-man: far from home interview with jimmy kimmel!

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

the young girls heart was silent for the first nineteen years of her life. nothing but a faint heartbeat and some clouded thoughts of little to nothing inconsistencies. from the moment she first opened her eyes as a baby, separating her fingers and spreading her toes while her newly polished eyes tried making sense of her surroundings, to the ripe summer when her mother insisted she become a camp counselor to succumb enough money to buy her very own long-overdue car. the girl felt nothing.

the teens she longed to be alike were a mere hourglass, y/n a shadow. portraying their success and growth without mirroring any of her own, she felt like a weak duckling surrounded by marvelous swans. she would spend her youth watching blondes fall for brunettes on television, plopping popcorn into her mouth while pressing rewind on her favorite romantics, watching the way they would look at eachother and move with one another. she never thought she could be able to experience that. everything inside her was too quiet, too plain.

and then she met tom. it became loud, too loud, and she loved it. everything she thought she could never achieve, she achieved with him. her colorless days no longer existed and she fell deeper and deeper in love with him everyday.

switching the tv from some medical soap opera, y/n sat on her couch. she wore nothing but a plain bra and a pair of baby blue satin shorts. normally, she’d cover up more, especially if she had company over, but tom was a different kind of company and a comfortable one at that.

“THOMAS HURRY UP!” she could hear her boyfriend yell a faint, “i’m coming,” through the noise of the water running. shortly after, the shower stopped as y/n scrolled mindlessly through her phone, impatient.

she expected to see her boyfriend walk out of the bathroom, a trail of steam behind him, but instead she heard the loud roar of a hairdryer.

“for fucks sake-“ her mouth was lacking the salty and buttery flavor she craved so she took the opportunity to use her time by putting some popcorn in the microwave while her boyfriend blowed out his hair.

as she watched the minutes on the timer go down, the machine dinged as she grabbed a bowl and poured the snack inside it. she made her way back to the bench sofa and extended her legs out on the grey island cushions. the lace on the trim of her shorts tickled her feet as she folded her legs. “TOM HURRY THE FUCK UP, ITS ALMOST STARTING!”

the girls mouth was full as she yelled, losing patience with the boy. “IM SORRY, IM COMING!”

minutes later, a shirtless tom holland, wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist, appeared in their shared living room. the girls eyes grew big, his doing the same as he took in her taboo and exposed form.

“what- tom! you haven’t even gotten dressed yet?!”

“well, neither have you, apparently! plus, this is pretty comfortable, is it not?”

“tom-“ she warned.

“i got it, i got it..” his bare feet slapped against the hardwood floors as he quickly ran into their bedroom and retrieved his clothes. he came back out wearing a black t shirt and a pair of light blue sweatpants.

“KIMMEL IS STARTING!” she pointed at the tv and looked over to see tom bounce down onto the couch next to her, sprawling his legs out like she had done earlier.

“baby, that’s just the intro, i’m not there yet.” she peered over at him.

“who said i’m watching this for you?” he turned his head and made a sarcastic face.

“yeah, sure..” he mocked.

“WAIT, i need my blanket! go, get it, i don’t want to miss this!”

“y/n, it hasn’t even started yet-“

“now tom!”

“but what if i miss it!”

“you were there, you already know what happens-“ you lightly shoved his clothed knee and he sprung to his feet, so fast that tessa jolted up and ran after him.

“tessa! calm down!” the dog didn’t listen and continued following her dad, panting the whole way back.

once they were settled, jimmy announced his upcoming guests before a quick commercial break.

“quick, my ass..” she muttered.

tom stifled a chuckle. “why are you so bent up about this? you’ve seen my interviews before!”

“yeah, but i’ve never been able to actually watch one with you! it’s like… an entirely different experience!”

he didn’t believe her. “are you sure that’s the real reason? or is it because you just want me to give you secret info on the film, because love, you know i can’t do that, not after last time.”

she placed a hand on her chest playfully, “tom! i would never, how could you think of me like that?! as if i would ever do such a thing!”

“mmhmm..”

the commercials came to an end and y/n looked up to see jimmy start announcing the cast.

“shit, oh my god, it’s happening.”

“shhh, calm down!” tom laughed, placing a hand on your shoulder, his other arm sprawled out behind the frame of the sofa.

“how can i keep calm!? my fucking BOYFRIEND is about to be on tv! you know how many people can say that they are dating spider-man? like, no one!” her knee was bouncing and she couldn’t contain the excitement. watching someone on television while sitting in the same room with them was a rush she had never felt before.

she was loud as hell inside.

“please welcome, tom hol-“

“WHOOOOO, YEAH!!” she started clapping dramatically and stood up for a quick second, her eyes glued to the tv as she watched her boyfriend appear, while her actual boyfriend sat there laughing at her excitement.

they did a stupid elevator bit, before him and everyone else walked up to their chairs.

“really, tom?” his dark eyes flickered to hers. “what?! i thought you would like it, it’s funny!” she rolled her eyes and smiled, thinking to herself: my boyfriend is a dork, even on national television.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“oh my god, you all look so good.”

“i know, right?”

“look at jake!”

“yeah-“

“look at zendaya!”

“i know-“

“OH MY GOD LOOK A-“

“OKAY Y/N, i get it, everyone but me is attractive, thanks. you’ve made it pretty clear.” he frowned as you gushed over how good his coworkers looked.

“yes, tom! i think you look awful, that’s why i’ve been dating you for the past four years, because i think you are ugly.”

he looked at his girlfriend, uncertainty in his eyes.

“oh, come on, i’m joking! you’re beautiful, come here.” she grabbed the side of his head and pulled him over so his head was laying on her chest. she began to play with his hair while watching.

“so the trailer came out, the trailer got like 135 million views within the first hour-“

“yeah it did!” she exclaimed, her fingers busy in his hair.

“see, i didn’t know that then.” he muttered, his brows furrowing together as tessa looked up at him from y/n’s lap.

“well it’s no secret, i’m not very good at instagram.”

y/n bursted out laughing. it wasn’t even that funny, but all of her emotions where heightened in this moment.

“oh god, i know where this is going.. this is the zendaya story isn’t it?” you smirk down at him and he lifts his head to nod at you.

“i knew it..”

“i basically.. forgot to post the trailer.”

“that’s bad.”

“yes jimmy, yes it is.” she couldn’t contain the snickers leaving her mouth and tom protested against it.

“listen, it’s difficult for some people, okay!”

“mmhmm, whatever you say baby.” she remembers distinctly, waking up and asking her boyfriend why he never posted the trailer, which caused him to wind up into a frenzy and immediately contact zendaya for assistance.

“well, you wouldn’t tell me how to!”

“tom, you’re a grown man! you should be able to figure that out yourself, peter parker.” she leaned over and kissed his cheek, his arm wrapped around her.

“so you’re IT for the team?”

“yeah, y/n, making poor zendaya the it for the team-“

“oh, shush, it was funny as fuck. but not as funny as the time you spoi-“

he placed his finger on her lips to quiet her, “oh, stop it!” she giggled in response.

she watched as zendaya recalled the moment she had to screen record how to delete an instagram story for him, which was another thing y/n refused to help him with. sure, she loves him and all, but watching the panic on his face as he realizes that he messed up, always cracked her up. especially since he brags about how ‘tech savvy’ he is for his age.

“it’s not my fault you’re a grampa!”

“yeah, we’ll, you’re dating a grampa!”

“true, i am.”

her hands reached towards her blanket as she put her popcorn bowl down and laid the covering over her and her boyfriend. the grey weighted blanket matching the couch perfectly.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“okay, wait…why are you guys still in highschool?!” y/n had paused the program to engage in a very serious and heated discussion about the aftermath of endgame which led up to the beginning of his new movie, far from home, which had yet to come out.

“i mean.. it’s five years! i’m so confused.” tom sighed, placing his hands on his knees, he sat up straight. “like i said in the interview, y/n, i don’t know.”

“well… ask the russo brothers! i mean, jacob is right, that’s a huge plothole!”

toms eyes sparkled as he looked at his lover trying to make sense of the whole thing.

“i… i don’t even know what to say right now. my whole life is a lie!”

“okay, let’s not get too dramatic here-“

“NO, tom! as an avengers fanatic, i need to know!” she gripped the hem of his shirt and tugged, his body jolting forwards.

“tell me!” she shook him as he laughed and tessa barked.

“i don’t know, baby!” she frowned slightly and looked at her boyfriends amused face.

“i’m dating spider-man, you’d think i’d get the inside scoop.” she rolled her eyes and placed her legs back up on the cushions. tom leaned over and looked her up and down, flickering from her bare chest and her eyes. he leaned into her neck and started planting kisses. “i’m sorry, i will be sure to ask someone at marvel for you.” she smiled sweetly before thanking him.

“has everyone seen avengers: endgame?”

the girl rose to her feet, the blanket stuck to her bare legs. “yes, jimmy, i have! i saw my boyfriend get dusted right before my fucking eyes!”

tom remembered the first time he watched the film with her. it was hard for him to keep it under wraps and while he did end up telling her some spoilers, he kept out the whole ‘death by thanos’ part.

“okay, calm down little one.” he reached his arm out to pull her down, back to the couch.

“tom, baby, i know you like.. could get in trouble for it but-“

“y/n… not this conversation again.” he put his hand up to his forehead, two fingers on the bridge of his nose. she knew that if she prodded and poked in all the right spots, that her boyfriend would give in. that it just took a little push for him to confess all the dirty details of his new blockbuster.

“come on! i am begging, tom- i have so many questions, can you blame me? i mean… mysterio, like.. what’s that guy all about?! he’s a villian right?”

“well…”

“a hero?”

“definitely not.”

“antihero?”

“not exactly-“

“UGH, tom! you are killing me here.” she whined, putting her hands on his chest as the paused tv shined upon his features. “please give me something… anything.” she trailed her fingers down his chest, tauntingly.

“anything?” he smirked at her.

“yup. like… maybe just exactly what jakes character is? i mean, i remember him telling us at dinner that time, but that was barely enough, i mean.. there’s gotta be more right?”

“go on.”

“and mj, i mean.. is peter finally going to ask her out? baby, so many questions, i just have so many.”

“well… i guess i could tell you one thing..” he tempted her. her lips twitched upwards as she pressed her forehead against his.

“mmhmm?”

“i could tell you that… the ending of the movie?”

“yeah..”

“is fucking fantastic. really, it’s brilliant babes.”

“because?”

“you will just have to see-“ he was cut off by his girlfriend hitting him in the face with a pillow.

“FOR FUCKS SAKE TOM-“

“quiet down! you are going to get tessa all going..”

“sorry…”

a moment of silence passed as tom squealed, “for fucks sake tom!” in his best high pitched, y/n impression possible.

“shut up!”

the two laughed before she clicked play.

“you look so good here, tom. it’s so weird like- i’m sitting next to you-“ she pointed at tom, “but, there you are on tv!”

“you are just realizing this?”

“well, it’s like inception!”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“i was told, it was a wedding!”

her chest boiled with anger as she quickly hit pause. “NO BECAUSE, fuck you for that! i remember being all excited, thinking tony and pepper were gonna have a beautiful wedding, only to see hes fucking DEAD.”

tom couldn’t hold in his laughs. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know!”

“well it’s pretty obvious, tom! everyone’s sad and in black, baby, you really are an airhead.”

“hey-“ she cut him off with a kiss to his lips.

the two cuddled up while watching the interview, small laughs leaving their bodies.

“like, zendaya! when did you find out how endgame ended?”

“oh, i remember. me, jacob, and zendaya were all in a facetime call freaking the fuck out, while my boyfriend over here, was chilling like nothing was wrong.”

“you guys were in a facetime call?” he questioned.

“yes! i was heartbroken and i had gotten a call from z who was clearly also upset!”

“well, he’s fine clearly! i mean, i wouldn’t be in far from home if peter was dead, right?”

she looked up at him, his heartbeat still lingering on her skin. “so you can tell me that you are still alive, but you can’t tell me about jake gyllenhaals character?”

“well, it’s a given! obviously peter is alive!”

y/n groaned, her head now resting on his chest.

“dating a superhero is difficult.”

“aww, poor darling, i’m sure it is.” he peppered kisses along her forehead.

“hey! you ate all of the popcorn?!” tom was flabbergasted, his voice heightening a few octaves.

“yep, and what about it?” her tone dripping in sass.

“i wanted some, for one!”

“too bad, maybe if you would spill the deets on far from home, you’d get some of my popcorn. hell, tom, if you confess right now, i’ll make you a whole bowl!”

“no.”

“well it was worth a try!”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“i can’t believe it’s over.” the house was completely silent, the only thing audible being tessa’s light snores.

“i’m gonna miss that guy..”

“baby, i’m right here.” he placed his hand at the small of her back, looking at her lovingly.

“i’m talking about mysterio.”

“oh, yeah, great!” she giggled at his response. “he’s just so hot, tom! way hotter than peter-“

“yeah, maybe if you think manipulation is hot!”

her mouth fell agape at his words.

“what?” he said, oblivious to the screw up he just made. she smiled widely at him as he slowly was hit with realization.

“oh, fucking damn it!”

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff

309 notes · View notes

jenomark · 3 years

Text

➔Pairing: Hendery x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: Kun + Lucas ➔Genre: Smut (with a plot!) ➔Warnings: Mentions of blood + Vaginal penetration (briefly), Oral (both M + F) ➔Word count: 2,769

➔Summary: Kun has a plan to get you and Hendery to work out your differences, but Kun's plan doesn't quite work out the way he thinks it will. 😉

Anon Request: enemies to lovers hendery smut?? thank you !! any scenario 🤎

You and Hendery watched as Kun brought out two chairs into the middle of the floor to face each other. Hendery's scowl matched yours, which made you even more irritated that any part of you could relate to him.

"I don't see how this will help. It-" Hendery began, but he was cut off by Kun's terse, "-Shh!"

The scraping of the chairs stopped. Kun leaned on the back of one of them and looked at you before looking at Hendery. He said, "I'm tired of this. We are all tired of this. Both of you have more in common than you think."

"We don't." you said, a little too childishly.

Kun narrowed his eyes, which made you fall quiet. "Sit down and work it out," he said, before walking out and slamming the door shut behind him.

"I'm not sitting down." Hendery said. “He can’t make me sit down.”

You were already sitting in the chair, but since Hendery spoke, you wanted to get up and resist along with him. Hendery paced around the room, looking more annoyed than ever. So, you stayed seated because you didn't want to be like him.

"I don't know what he wants us to do." Hendery said. "I have no problem with you. I just don't want to be around you."

"Likewise." you said.

"I didn't ask what you though, did I?"

You rolled your eyes. "Here we go."

"No," Hendery said. He leaned on the back of the free chair like Kun had. "You've had a problem with me since I first met you. I want to know why. It's because I'm so handsome, right?"

"Oh, please."

There was a banging on the front door. Kun's voice rang out. He was letting out a whole series of curse words followed by a bunch of angry grunts. Hendery cursed back and sat down in the chair with a huff.

"We will never see eye-to-eye," he said. "And that is okay. If it's okay for us, it should be okay for them."

"I agree." you said, crossing your legs.

Things were silent. Hendery looked at your legs where your skirt was riding up your thigh. You uncrossed your legs and pulled your skirt down. The way you looked at him in disgust made him smirk, which made you want to strangle him. In fact, you were gearing up for another argument when Lucas burst through the door with his finger pointing at both of you.

"You and you." he said. "Just sleep with each other already."

"What?" you and Hendery both said at the same time.

Lucas dropped his finger. "Just fuck. You know, make love, or, in your case, war. The sexual tension is too thick, man, I can't live here with you both like this."

With that speech, Lucas turned on his heel and left. Though, he didn't slam the door like Kun had.

Shock rippled throughout the room. You and Hendery both stared at each other from your chairs, his eyes wide, and your eyes sizing him up. Truthfully, you had wondered what it would be like to take out the aggression you felt for Hendery on his body. You had even dreamed about what it would be like once.

"Can you believe him?" Hendery said, trying to keep his voice from breaking. "Us? Fuck? When hell freezes over, I think."

But Hendery wasn't immune to the way you were looking at him. Underneath your hot gaze, he began to feel a little warm underneath the collar. He couldn't stop staring at your legs, thinking about your thighs crushing his head while you sat on his face.

Without speaking, you withdrew yourself from the chair and got down on the floor. Your knees hurt crawling your way towards him, but nothing hurts quite like your pride. You would have never imagined crawling to Hendery like that but, somehow, it felt right.

"Not a word." you said, your eyes boring into his. "If you act smug, I will bite down on your dick so hard you'll be pissing blood for weeks."

"Ouch." Hendery winced, covering himself.

You stopped before him, your hands reaching out to touch him. Hendery moved fast, unzipping his jeans and pulling them down for you. He was hesitant for you to see his cock but, when he saw that you were trying not to laugh, he bared himself for you to see.

"Don't laugh at me," he said.

"I'm not laughing." you said, smiling.

You took his cock in your hands and watched him grow. He reacted like he hadn't been touched in years, which did make you laugh. Hendery moaned and bit down on his lips to stop the further humiliation. You stroked him and tasted him. You were trying your best not to think about how much you hated him. Having that control over him made you feel powerful, made it easier for you to suck him off.

"This is...an... unexpected.." Hendery breathed, closing his fists tight as you bobbed up and down his cock. "..event...oh god."

"You cannot be serious." you said.

Hendery came so soon, his cum gushing out of his tip. You didn't swallow him, just let him spill himself onto his pants. The noise he made was inhuman, and it ground you right to your spot on the floor. You watched him, holding his cock upward so he came on his shirt, instead, and trying not to admit to yourself that you ached for him to be inside of you.

When he finished and was through cleaning himself up, you both acted like nothing had happened. Hendery looked at you from across the room, the wet rag moving up and down his stomach. You shrugged and moved the chairs back where they were, ignoring how swollen and aroused your clit was.

Kun thought he had done something. Whenever you and Hendery were around each other, the bickering had lessened. Kun didn’t know that behind his back, Hendery was pushing his tongue into his cheek and staring at you. Mimicking a blowjob was childish, but Hendery didn’t have to know that you went home at night and masturbated to the very thought of him doing that.

Kun also didn’t know that, whenever he and the rest of the guys went out, you would sneak to Hendery’s room and fuck with him. Or rather, you would sit on Hendery’s face like a throne and have him eat you out until he couldn’t breathe.

“When will you let me fuck you?” Hendery asked, looking up at you from between your thighs.

You let your weight fall down onto his face and rubbed yourself against his lips and nose so he would stop talking. It’s not that you didn’t want him to fuck you senseless, just that having him penetrate you felt a little too real. You felt it also brought about the realization that you liked being in his company more than you thought.

After coming all over his face and having him beg you to do it again, you laid in his bed. “This isn’t a compliment,” you said. “but you’re not half bad.”

“I know.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I said it wasn’t a compliment. You don’t have to be so smug about it.”

He held up his hands. “All I’m saying is, you scream more when you’re sitting on my face than you do when you’re not, and for that, I think, is the highest compliment.”

You pulled his covers over yourself until they were covering your naked body. “I really hate you.”

“And yet you’re still in my bed.”

Before you could respond with a not-so-clever retort, Hendery went underneath the covers and started eating you out again.

It was getting a little too comical, you and Hendery’s situationship. You were both sure that none of the guys knew what was going on, even if Lucas occasionally shot you curious looks whenever you were together. Hiding was difficult and resulted in someone getting half dressed and running from his dorm room, as if everything were perfectly normal. To make sure everything seemed up to standard, you and Hendery would stage fights now and again. In reality, those fights got you both hot and bothered enough to slip into whatever place you could and either get fingerbanged or something else that left your legs weak.

What made it truly funny was that you began to grow feelings faster than Hendery grew his erection. Underneath all of his self-congratulatory ways, Hendery was actually fun to be around. You would often stay in his bed for hours just watching videos on his phone in between pleasing and teasing his body. He lasted much longer in bed as more time passed, and the vulnerability that you seemed so scared of in the beginning also made things more exciting.

Kun slammed down a bottle of soda to break you out of your reverie. The party around you zoomed back to life the moment he spoke. You watched Hendery talk to a girl across the room. Though he stole glances back at you, the jealousy was rearing its ugly head.

“Are you okay?” Kun asked. “You seem...off.”

“I’m good.” you said. “I’m great.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Can’t you see, Kun?” Lucas came up behind Kun and stole the soda from him. He drank a long, sweet gulp. “She is in love with Hendery. I knew that it was only a matter of time.”

“Yeah, right.” you said, trying your best to disguise the lie. “I would rather stay single for the rest of my life than ever touch someone like him.”

When Kun and Lucas didn’t reply, you looked at both of them. Kun looked as if he were going to say something but thought better of it. Lucas smiled. For the first time, you felt like you could pity yourself.

“I’m going outside to get fresh air.” you said, excusing yourself.

You walked through the room and felt Hendery’s eyes on you. You could feel him following behind you. When you made it outside and turned around, he was right there.

“Having fun?” you asked. “I’m sure that girl was having the best time.”

“Are you jealous of her?” he asked. “Please tell me yes. It would inflate my ego so much.”

“No.” you said flatly.

“But you’re not denying it.” he said. “Interesting.”

If you had answered him, you weren’t sure he would like what you had to say. Rather than face all of that, you decided to walk away. But Hendery pulled you back. You expected some joke, some kind of puffed up version of himself, but the man you were met with was the same man you met behind closed doors.

“Don’t leave,” he said. “Talk to me.”

“Talking never works out in our favor.” you said, pulling your wrist away from him.

“It helped once.” he said, smiling at the memory of you crawling towards him. When he saw that you didn’t smile back, his face changed. “I’m not the enemy, you know that.”

You wracked your brain for something incredible to say, but all that came out was a lame little. “Yeah, I guess.”

Hendery took a step towards you and looked at your lips. Throughout all of your bedroom excursions, you had never kissed each other on the mouth. His mouth had been all over your body, but never your lips. He touched his thumb to your bottom lip, but it was you who pushed your way into the kiss.

“Wow.” Hendery said, pulling a part. He kept his eyes closed. “That definitely tastes better than-”

You pushed him back and went to kiss him again. This time, with a little tongue that made him moan in approval. You felt that kiss in your whole body, right down to your toes.

“What if I just went upstairs and told everyone they needed to leave right now.” Hendery said.

“You don’t live alone. “ you reminded him.

He groaned. “I’ll pull the building's fire alarm if I have to. “

“I didn’t even agree that I was going to sleep with you.” you said, resisting the urge to cross your arms over your chest.

“You didn’t have to.” Hendery whispered.

Hendery took your arm and pulled you upstairs. He kicked open the door to the apartment so forcefully that everyone looked in his direction. You covered your face in embarrassment. If you met eyes with Kun or Lucas, you didn’t think you would ever fully recover.

“Alright.” Hendery called out. “Party is over. It’s time to leave. Everyone, please make your way out in an orderly fashion, thank you.”

When no one moved, you hid behind Hendery because you could feel him gearing up to say something incredibly inappropriate. But, instead, it was Lucas who spoke.

“You heard the man.” Lucas said. “Party continues at the bar down the street. Drinks on me. Let’s go!”

The crowd cheered and followed Lucas. Before he left through the front door, Lucas winked at you. Everyone filed out in a conga line, yelling raucously and completely ignoring you and Hendery standing there.

Kun stopped before he walked out. “I’m glad you both are working out your differences.”

“We’re working out something.” Hendery said, grabbing Kun’s shoulder and pushing him through the door. He shut it behind him and faced you, all of the humor gone from his face, replaced with a pallor that made him look ill.

“I hate you.” you said, but there was no hate in your voice whatsoever.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Hendery said.

You kissed him and brought color back to his cheeks. Rather than stripping him of his clothes and immediately going for his cock, you took things slow. It felt nice to be in his arms. Different, but very nice. You held each other and made out, things getting hotter and heavier as time passed.

“I’m done playing.” Hendery said.

He took you into his bedroom where he sat you down on his bed. Before you, he started dancing and taking off his clothes in a way that made you laugh so hard your stomach hurt.

“Done playing, huh?” you asked.

He took his t-shirt and brought it around your neck. You could feel the heat from his stomach being so close to you. You kissed his skin and looked up at him. You didn’t know when exactly it had happened, when Hendery had become a lover rather than an enemy. You certainly didn’t know when he had become your best friend.

“Yeah.” he said, pushing you back down onto the bed. “I think so.”

Just like that, the energy in the room changed. His kisses were deeper and more sensual. He had stopped the strip tease and had straddled you, his hands roaming up and down your body. It was difficult for you to focus on one thing. Your sexual encounters were usually full of him narrating exactly what he was going to do, but the Hendery on top of you kept you on your toes. He pulled down the top of your dress to expose your cleavage and let his tongue roam free. You let his hands move underneath your dress, pulling it up to reveal your underwear.

“Why does this feel so different?” he asked, looking down at you with his dark eyes.

For a moment, you thought he was talking about your body. You were quiet, not knowing how to answer, though you knew what he meant. When he removed your dress and slowly unhooked your bra and brought your panties down past your ankles, he realized with a shock what you had known all along.

“Oh, I like you a lot.” he said. “I’m an idiot.”

“You won’t find me disagreeing.” you said, sucking in when you felt his lips on your stomach.

“I didn’t ask you though, did I?” he asked, transporting you both back to the very first time you were intimate with each other.

“Maybe you should.” you said. “Maybe you should ask me what I want.”

Hendery stripped himself naked like his life depended on it. He was erect, his eyes full of emotion. “What do you want then?”

“I want you.” you said. “As miserable as you are. As wild as you are. As much as you annoy me, Hendery, I want you.”

Hendery pushed your legs until your knees were in the air. You breathed in deeply and looked up at him. He touched your pussy, his eyes still on you as his fingers brushed against you. “You have me.” he said, before plunging deep inside of you.

#hendery #nct #hendery smut #nct smut #wayv #wayv smut #wong kunhang #nct hendery smut #nct fanfic #hendery fanfic #hendery smut fanfic #nct smut fanfic

157 notes · View notes

hanibalistic · 3 years

Text

#FFD500 | PARK JISUNG.

genre | fluff, meet cute au, strangers au

word count | 1781

warning | smoking

with suit and tie, styled hair, minimal makeup, and a heavy name on his back, jisung realized he could not do it. he could not bring himself to enter the main scene of high school prom.

nervous sweat drenched his hands and he hastily wiped away at the side of his hips. the blinking neon lights coming through the small windows of the assembly hall doors, and the loud blasty music that belonged to none other than his very own idol group made him feel isolated in this dark, empty school hallway he has barely walked across since he got accepted into the school.

there was no point in this. there was no point in attending. donghyuck had encouraged him the most when he was debating whether he wanted to go to prom; he said it could help with blowing off some steam, and there might even be a possibility of meeting someone eccentric, like how he did when he decided to attend prom two years back. jisung had believed him, and now he realized he should not have.

he barely attended school because of his conflicting schedule as a worldwide idol. logically speaking, he shouldn't even be allowed to graduate with the number of absences in his record, but he did so with flying colors anyway. he was everyone's friend and he has no friends; there would be no one to talk to inside, and the clear superiority in accomplishment he held might make things embarrassing and awkward for him.

he understood why donghyuck would deem his experience at his prom great. it was because he knew how to talk, he knew how to charm, and he was never shy around people. jisung believed his story when he talked about the student he frantically danced with under artificial lights. for donghyuck, having met someone eccentric was merely a fortunate coincidence, if not a miracle that he met someone exactly like him.

jisung was nothing like that. he knew he was nothing like that. dealing with strangers, let alone the mysteriously off ones, was never his forte. he would just make a fool of himself, he would not be having a good time.

going to prom was a bad idea. he should leave.

"jesus–watch it!"

"ah..." his voice dimmed as he immediately turned toward the direction of where the explosive voice came from. his hurrying steps halted to a stumble before a stop, and he eyed you up and down carefully before he dipped his head. "sorry... i–i didn't mean to scare you."

"i wasn't scared, just startled," you retorted quickly, but your voice was much calmer than your initial snap. tapping the lit cigarette in your hand lightly with your index finger, you mumbled as you eyed him with mild curiosity after your angry brows faded, "you came out in a hurry. forgot you had an award show to attend to, hmm?"

"oh–no, it's not that–" jisung paused abruptly, he wasn't sure why. when you raised a brow at him, almost impatiently it seemed, he gulped down a nervous knot and scratched the back of his head. "sorry, i just.. i didn't think you would know me."

you blinked at him as you swiped your tongue against your teeth, clicking with what jisung could not tell was menace or disinterest. either way, they were both bad. taking a short puff of the cigarette, you exhaled a cloud of smoke before you mused, "who said i know you, park jisung?"

he gulped, visibly distraught and confused.

"you just said–"

"i just what?"

he gulped again when his meek sentence was cut off so quickly. not even his brothers have interrupted him like this before, at least not with the genuine intention to anyway. it seemed that at this moment, he further came to the realization just how well he was taken care of by everyone around him, because could such a simple jab to a social interaction cause him such anxiety if he was used to it?

(he was glad he wasn't used to it.)

"what is a hotshot like you doing here anyway?" you fired the sudden question, looking to him with intrigue.

you were never one to engage in idol activities. you weren't even in this school to become an artist; you were forced here by your parents who stood somewhere in the industry. one day they realized you had the voice and the range to deserve the spotlight, and here you were stuck in those shit-ugly, overdue-banana-colored uniforms, trying to be a star you didn't want to be.

but jisung—you knew jisung. everybody knew jisung. your classmates, the teachers, that random american tourist who asked you for directions in the street, that kpop warrior online who kept screenshots of netizen articles and translating them out of context. everybody knew jisung, but very few knew him enough.

you didn't care much for him, but your curiosity just had to be fulfilled now that you were seeing him in person. what was he doing here, in a suit and sweating through his hair? did he always talked this shyly or was it your typical idol persona act? were you scaring him and should you do it even more to purposefully leave a bad impression?

your stare was confronting in this silence. granted, it was his turn to speak, so he was at blame for your lingering gaze on him. "i thought... i thought maybe i could go to prom," he finally replied quietly.

you hummed in acknowledgment, then you tilted your head. you looked behind your shoulder into the school, your eyes briefly grazing past the colorful doors that were the entrance to literal teenage hell, and you jabbed your thumb toward the direction. "prom is that way, though, dumbo."

"i know that," jisung said, embarrassed. "i just... i don't have friends."

you laughed, and once again jisung couldn't tell if you were genuinely amused or it was a response of mockery. inhaling carefully, you longing exhaled the smoke as your dazed eyes looked past him, with a smile so vague it seemed unnatural.

"what are you talking about? you've got friends. you got friends everywhere!"

"i... i don't?"

"sure you do!" you exclaimed boldly as you stretched your arms out to the sky, eyes ablaze at the stars above. "they are everywhere for you, jisung. you got friends everywhere because everyone wants to be your friend. you have options, you are just not taking them!"

"but they're not–" he licked his lower lip nervously, feeling a sense of sorrow cast over him upon the teenage loneliness he gained in trade for his success. "they're not real friends."

you paused.

real friends?

you paused; motions stopped, arms empty without strength, and eyes hallow with confused questioning. you stared at jisung as if he was a foreign creature who had said something absurd, so absurd you had to decide whether you wanted to ridicule him or interrogate him first.

what are real friends, anyway?

people who love you but do nothing about it, people who say they love you but do not, people who act upon loving you but do not? people who leave you alone at a bad time because you asked them to, people who would not leave you alone at a bad time even if you asked them to, people who knew how to juggle in between? people who comfort you because they understood you, people who advise because they could not understand you, people who try to relate to you because it was what they knew to be comfortable?

which one of those was real? were any of them fake simply because you didn't like it? when did you get crowned the decision-maker?

what are real friends, anyway? why does it matter, anyway?

why does truth matter if the lies treat you so well?

when you made up your mind to do both, you began to move fluidly again. your lips opened to breathe, and you chuckled sardonically at his naivety.

"what do you need the realness for? lies are lies only if it bothers you, essentially meaning you don't really need the absence of lies," you said. "who cares about real friends, you just need friends. don't you think you are expecting too much from humanity?"

there was sympathy in jisung that he did not know had risen. the basis of the situation, of why you came to the conclusion that people were less than gentle and kind, he knew nothing of but he was sorry for. whether something has happened in your life, or if you simply grew to be cynical, the lack of tiny joys in life must be a terrible feast.

he also knew he hasn't the energy and wit to argue himself to victory; his humanism, the desire to prove that people are good because his people have been good, would not be enough to shake you.

"shouldn't you stop smoking?" he asked, promptly changing the subject.

you removed the cigarette from your mouth, brows furrowed in annoyance now that the attention was directed toward you. you exhaled the smoke slowly from your throat, and you tilted your head up to the sky where you gently said, "maybe not. i just can't seem to die."

your god-given voice just wouldn't let off.

"do you plan to go back in after then? smelling like smoke?" he asked.

"don't mock me boy." you grinned with a glare hanging off the corner of your mouth. "and no, i am not going back in. i don't have friends, but unlike you, i just don't have friends because i am a raging asshole."

jisung finally breathed out a giggle, but it was abruptly short. he covered his mouth and lowered his head, only peeking up at you occasionally. "well, if it's any consolation, i don't think you're all that bad."

your eyes fluttered as you silently tapped your cigarette. he was just as you expected but a little more. you could understand why people like him so much now; his innocence wasn’t a drag, it was a charm.

you gave him a silent but thankful smile before you looked away. "yeah. thanks."

jisung thought you looked less angry now; eyes at the stars, wishful and longing to be above. the blush that blossomed on his cheeks remained despite the faded nervousness, maybe it was because he felt a fondness toward you he usually wouldn't toward the people he spend his time around; you were a classmate, someone his age, someone who could understand him if allowed.

an eccentric stranger that donghyuck suspected he might meet.

maybe it was a good idea that he never went to prom.

106 notes · View notes

whumpurr · 3 years

Text

Adrien and Sawdust part 8

cw: non sexual nudity, brief references to past non-con, pet whump, conditioned whumpee, self harm aftermath, ear whump aftermath, bathing

masterlist

Adrien blinked, almost pulling back when Sawdust held onto his wrist. Sawdust still seemed to be a bit out of it, but the pet looked Adrien in the eye,

“M… Master, please don’t get rid of me.” He squeaked out, pleading. “Please, please, Master!”

“Huh?” Adrien looked at Sawdust, confused. The pet shifted, and tried to get down from the couch. Dropping onto his knees in front of Adrien, Sawdust trained his eyes on the ground,

“Please, Master! I’m sorry!” He cried. Adrien was confused, he wasn’t sure what Sawdust was apologizing for.

“Okay, wait, wait,” Adrien inched back away from Sawdust to give the pet some more space. “I understand that your previous uh, Master wasn’t especially good to you. I don’t want to hurt you, okay? Can you tell me what you’re sorry for?” Adrien kept his voice as soft and nonthreatening as he could. Sawdust flinched, and kept his head down, but he spoke.

“I-I’m your property and- and I damaged your property.” Sawdust whimpered.

“Hey, that’s alright, I’m not mad at you. I just would prefer you don’t uh, do that, because I don’t like seeing you hurt.” Adrien kept his hands firmly in his lap, not wanting to spook Sawdust any further. “Can you tell me why you did that?”

Sawdust fiddled with his hands, squeezing his fingers.

“I- you- my ears… I w- if you couldn’t see my second ears you- you might give me real ones back.” His voice grew quieter and quieter, and Adrien figured that he shouldn’t push him too much more.

Adrien thought for a moment on what Sawdust could’ve meant by ‘second ears’. He looked over at Sawdust, eyes tracking over his body. It all clicked into place; the false ears that were originally on top of Sawdust’s head weren’t there. Adrien had taken them off when Sawdust collapsed in the hallway.

“Oh… Oh, my god, Sawdust I’m so, so sorry. Wait here, I’ll go get your things.” Adrien was quick to turn and leave, running upstairs. He soon returned with Sawdust’s duffel bag, putting it down between him and the pet, unzipping it. “Here, here take your- anything, this is all your stuff.”

Sawdust kept hurriedly glancing between his own hands and back up at Adrien as he reached in, looking like he expected Adrien to rip the bag away at the last second. Sawdust didn’t bother searching, he just grabbed the first pair of ears that was on top of the pile, hardly even looking at them before putting them on.

“Okay, I know now that I should’ve done this way before now, but we gotta establish some ground rules.” Adrien kept his expression neutral, trying not to appear too stern, “One: you eat with me, every day. I need to see that you’re eating. Two, uh, you have to tell me if you want something. I’m not going to punish you for asking for anything. And, um… Three is that you can talk whenever you want. You won’t get punished for that either. You understand?”

Sawdust nodded his head and Adrien just had to hope that the pet actually took in what he was saying.

“Okay, right, and uh- from now on, you need to stay with me in my office while I’m working. I can’t just… I can’t let you roam around the house and risk something like this happening again.” It felt like he was taking away Sawdust’s privacy, his freedom, but he couldn’t allow the pet to injure himself again. “Those are the rules for now. If they change, I’ll tell you.”

Sawdust gave a shaky nod, bottom lip still wobbling and eyes still wet.

“Y-...” Sawdust started before falling silent. Adrien waited patiently and when Sawdust realized that he wasn’t going to be told to keep quiet, he continued, “You won’t get rid of me?”

“If you don’t want me to, no.” The words came out with a sigh. “I wouldn’t just throw you out onto the street, you know. I was talking about finding someone better for you to live with.”

“But-! But I like it h-here.” Sawdust lurched forward, “Please, Master!”

“I won’t! I won’t get rid of you or give you up, okay?”

Sated by that answer, Sawdust fell quiet once more.

“You’re covered in blood, Sawdust. We need to clean you up. And…” With a gentle, careful hand, Adrien reached out and took one of the mats in Sawdust’s hair in his fingers, “We can cut these out, if you want. Give me a second.”

Adrien stood and disappeared into the kitchen, returning and urging Sawdust to follow him, which he did. Sawdust climbed up the steps with Adrien, following him into the bathroom.

“Alright, stand up.”

Sawdust stood on his shaky, unused legs. Pets weren’t meant to walk on two legs, that was reserved for humans. Being so far from the floor made him feel unsteady, he felt like he was going to fall over. He wondered briefly if Master was making him stand just so that he could throw him down again.

“You’ve got all kinds of tangles in your hair.” Master said behind him. Sawdust glanced up into the mirror, finally seeing what Adrien had gotten from the kitchen. A pair od black handled, sharp scissors. Sawdust tensed, shoulders rising and a whine building in the back of his throat. Was Master going to take his other second ear, too?

“This might pinch a little bit, alright?” Master said. Sawdust squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that he couldn’t possibly bear watching in the mirror.

The pain he anticipated never came. All he felt were a few tugs on his hair. The cool air around him was suddenly hitting his neck. Briefly, his ears were removed and there were some tugs at the top of his head before the ears returned. Then Master put something crinkly over his hurt second ear.

“It’s a little patchy, I’m no hairdresser, but it should work for now. What do you think?”

Sawdust cracked his eyes open and looked at himself in the mirror. His shoulder length hair had been cut short, the mats that were clumped in it were gone. It felt strange, so he looked away from the mirror, slumping back down onto his knees.

“I’m going to go get some towels and stuff, come with me.” Master stepped out of the bathroom, heavy footsteps tracking around the house as he visited the small door in the hallway for some towels, then his bedroom for clothing, before coming back to the bathroom.

Next, the rushing sound of water filled the room as Master began allowing the white bath tub to fill. Sawdust didn’t quite understand what was going on. Master poured something into the tub and it began to bubble.

“We’re gonna get you all nice and clean,” Master said, rolling up his sleeves and dipping his hand into the filling tub. Sawdust stared at the bubbly water. This was for him, right? He’d never been bathed anywhere except with a quick splash from the hose outside. He waited for his master to pour bleach or something into the water before forcing him under it. Maybe that was what that bubbly stuff was. Sawdust couldn’t stop himself from whining from the stress.

“Shh, it’ll be alright. Water’s not too hot, come feel.”

Sawdust crept over next to his master and dangled his hand over the water. He froze for a moment before allowing his fingertips to dip below the surface. The water was warm and, much to his surprise, it didn’t burn or hurt. He swished his hand around in the water, looking up to his grinning Master.

“Nice, right? We can get you in there as soon as you’re ready.” Master flicked some water off his hand and stood up, “I can face this way while you get undressed.” He said, turning to face the door.

Sawdust didn’t know why exactly he was looking away. As the pet began to pull his tattered shirt over his head, he pondered. Master probably didn’t like his body anyways, it was all beat up and ugly. His pants came off next and then, hesitantly, his ears, which he set on top of the pile of clothes outside the tub. Then he kneeled outside the tub, waiting for Master’s next instructions. After a little bit, Master turned around and quickly looked away.

Master not wanting to see Sawdust hurt even more than if he did stare at him. Sawdust was at least used to people looking at him like this, he had nothing to hide anyways- pets had no dignity, after all.

“Okay, come on, let’s get you in here.” Master stood up next to the tub and offered a hand to Sawdust. Sawdust shakily put his paw in his master’s hand and climbed into the tub, trying his hardest not to tip over on his stupid mutt legs.

“That good?” Adrien asked once Sawdust got seated in the water. Sawdust contemplated for a moment before nodding slowly. Adrien took a plastic cup that he brought from the kitchen and began to scoop water into it. “I’m gonna… I’ll pour some water on your back now, okay?”

It felt like he was taking care of a child. He tried to think of it that way, it was more preferable than imagining he was bathing a dog. The soapy water cascaded down Sawdust’s back and Adrien realized that this was the first time he was seeing such expanses of his pet’s skin.

Sawdust’s back was littered with marks, many of them looked like scratches from animals, many more looked like cigarette burns. Some were newer than others. Dividing them were the mountainous peaks of his spine, nearly poking through the skin.

“I have some soap here, it smells nice, I think you’ll like it.” Adrien picks up the washcloth and adds some of the body wash. “I’m going to rub this on your back, it shouldn’t hurt, I don’t think you have any open wounds here.”

Adrien cleaned Sawdust’s back slowly and carefully, the white washcloth getting smudged with dirty brown before Adrien would dunk it into the water. By the time he was rinsing off Sawdust’s back from the soap, the pet had relaxed, chest no longer tight with held breaths, and spine no longer strung taut.

“Here,” Adrien handed the cloth to Sawdust, “I put some more soap on it, you can do the rest of your body.”

Sawdust simply held the sopping cloth in his hand, fingers curled around it like a claw. He looked up at Adrien with a confused look.

“Like- uh, like this,” Adrien made a rubbing motion over his own forearm, and Sawdust mimicked it. Gradually and slowly, Sawdust managed to wash his own body, but he looked… Out of it.

“Is something wrong, dear?” Adrien asked from where he knelt outside of the tub. Sawdust flinched and looked away. “If something’s wrong, you can tell me.”

Sawdust’s jaw was set and his whole body was all tensed up.

“Master didn’t- didn’t want to l-look at- at me,” His voice was wobbly and full of unspilled tears, “Pet is ugly.” Those words came out as a squeak, but more certain than anything else he’d said.

“Oh,” Adrien didn’t know what to say to that, “I don’t- that’s not why I didn’t look at you, I just thought you’d uh, you’d like some privacy. Trust me I don’t think that you’re ugly or anything, okay?”

Sawdust gave a warbled little ‘mmh’ in response, and Adrien wasn’t quite sure what he meant.

“Do you want me to wash your face?” Adrien held up a bottle of his own face wash, “I’ll be gentle, and next time you can do it on your own.”

Sawdust agreed and Adrien wet his hands and began washing Sawdust’s face, the pads of his thumbs gentle against his pet’s hollow, pale face. Sawdust shivered the whole time.

Adrien washed Sawdust’s hair next. He’d put some plastic wrap and extra gauze over Sawdust’s injury, so it remained relatively dry. He was as gentle as he could be with Sawdust’s hair, washing it a couple of times until the suds were white, rather than a murky gray-brown.

The rest of the bath passed in near silence, with Adrien making the occasional remark and Sawdust never truly responding. Afterwards, Adrien helped him dry off, and gave him some of his own clothing to wear for the time being. Even though the items were the smallest things he owned, they were still grossly oversized on Sawdust.

Finally, Sawdust’s ears were put back on top of his head, and Adrien tied his tail around his waist for him.

“We can go shopping tomorrow and get you some clothes and stuff.” Adrien said. “I think we should eat some breakfast- lunch? Is it lunch time? No matter, come on, I’ll get you fed.”

Sawdust moved to follow his master out of the bathroom, but he couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror. He simply stood there for a moment, looking at himself.

He was all clean. His wound was bandaged. He was wearing his master’s clothing. Pets like him didn’t deserve such things. They didn’t deserve proper grooming, but there he was with a new hair cut. It made him feel disgusting in comparison to the care that’d been given to his body.

He’d have to make it up to his master somehow.

taglist: @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi@neuro-whump @whump-me-all-night-long @cupcakes-and-pain @whumpzone @whumpcreations @dancinglifeboat @pinkraindropsfell @looptheloup @cowboy-anon @meetmeinhellcroutons @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @firewheeesky @maracujatangerine @it-will-all-whump-out

#whump #pet whump #whump blog #whump writing #whump story #whump recovery #male whumpee #male caretaker #adrien and sawdust #whumpee #caretaker

139 notes · View notes

morizoras-cave · 4 years

Text

Weird (Request)

MCU Cast x gn!teen!co-star!reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Request Description: Hello ❤💓could i please request a x teen reader were she has a really quirky and bubbly personality and the cast loves it but she starts getting bullied at school for it and shes acting shy and doesnt talk anymore and there all concerned.⚘💓❤😘

Warnings: bullying, general sadness, insecurity

(A/N): decided to do this request with chris evans, anthony mackie, sebastian stan, scarlett johansson, and elizabeth olsen (as i have previously stated, fitting the entire cast into it is impossible, so i usually have to pick). i hope this doesnt affect the requesters enjoyment of it :)

“I’m considering picking up some lye,” you said bluntly. Everyone that had attended Chris’ I’m-sorry-I-forgot-I-was-hosting-dinner dinner looked up from their Chinese takeout boxes.

“Like, the chemical lye?” Anthony asked, picking at a piece of chicken with his chopsticks. You hummed and nodded, doing the same.

“Why?” Sebastian asked.

“I’m considering getting into the soap making business,” you said, “there’s some real money in that market.”

“Really?” Scarlett said, chuckling along with everyone else at the horrible, scrambling-to-even-be-called-a-dinner dinner.

“Don’t laugh, guys. You might be seeing my custom soaps in The Body Shop soon,” you joked and once more everyone laughed, shaking their heads.

“Good luck with that,” Elizabeth said.

“Thank you, I’ll need it, seeing as lye is apparently very fun to eat and also very toxic,” you sipped your coke, bubbles long gone, leaving the sticky and sweet juice behind.

It was like that every time you were around. You always had something strange you had been pondering about, wether it was soap-making, a career in shipwreck exploration, or investing in a live action Thomas the Train movie. Every single time the cast was with you, they were waiting for the next weird thing to come from your mouth and they were never disappointed.

You were a lovely, outgoing, yet casually blunt young person, and you were simply wonderful to be around. Like a breath of fresh air each time they were around you. Refreshingly happy.

And you loved being weird. You loved being yourself, even if you were a bit of an outsider. Not in the sense that you were better than anyone else, you were just slightly different. You always felt there was nothing wrong with that.

Well, you did. Then things changed. Your schedule working with the movie was lined up, so you had at least two days a week in regular school, often more. You were happy, because it meant you weren’t sacrificing your education to be in a movie.

Then these girls started bothering you. You could always tell that they didn’t exactly like you, which you actually understood. You always knew that you could easily come off as pretentious and snobby when someone didn’t know you, especially seeing as you were a ‘quirky’ movie star.

But then they started talking to your friends. Which was fine. But then when you tried to speak to your friends, everything changed. Those girls were practically bristling at your presence, your friends included.

But you didn’t let that bother you. You still had plenty of friends on set, as you considered all of your cast members to be your friends. And they considered you a friend as well.

But then those girls at school decided that they weren’t done. First, they said things that were very obviously about you, but were disguised as something else. And they’d always make sure you’d hear.

“I think I’d like to be an actor,” one of the girls had said. They had been sitting on a bench a little bit away from your locker, where you were cramming a physics book in.

“Oh my god, Lacey, you’re so quirky and weird!” another one had said, and your mood had crumbled, realizing they were making fun of you. You had just closed your locker and left, but you had still heard their giggles at your obviously upset state.

Then they just started blatantly making fun of you, saying you were ugly and untalented, but what hurt you most was when they said you had an annoying, attention-seeking personality.

You started questioning things about yourself that you never questioned. Were you attention-seeking? Was your personality annoying? Were you even a good actor?

You would tell your friends, but they didn’t seem to like you anymore, and with your new insecurity about your personality, you even wondered if the cast really liked you, or if they just found you annoying like everyone else.

So you told no one, and you decided, determined, that you would be less annoying and more quiet.

“Hey, Y/n! You’re here!” Sebastian exclaimed, as you entered Elizabeth’s rented flat. He was holding a drink in one of his hands and ran to hug you at the door. You hugged back gently.

“Are you ready for an actually prepared dinner this time?” Elizabeth said slyly, smirking at Chris, who had definitely heard enough about that one time he forgot to plan the dinner.

“Ha ha, very funny, Liz,” he said. You watched them in amusement, holding back multiple snarky comments.

Sebastian, Elizabeth, and Chris had all turned to you, and it took you a moment to realize they were expecting you to say something. There was an awkward moment where just watched them, before they snapped out of it, coughing and shuffling uncomfortably.

“Uh, anyway, table’s this way!” Elizabeth guided you all to the large table. Anthony and Scarlett were already there, mid-conversation and bobbing their heads to ‘Anaconda’ played from Elizabeth’s stereo.

“Y/n’s here!” Scarlett said excitedly and you sat down sheepishly.

“Yep.”

You watched everyone around the table exchange glances, before all eyes landed back on you.

“Are you okay?” Chris asked carefully. He was sitting next to you.

“Yeah,” you said quietly, fiddling with your napkin, “just a little stressed about school.” You forced a smile.

“.. Alright,” Anthony said said reluctantly. There was a moment of silence, because if you weren’t happy, there had to be something seriously wrong with the world.

“Uh, I think the chicken’s ready,” Elizabeth said, changing the subject. Everyone mumbled in relief.

The night went on and everyone had conversations and small laughs as they ate, but it was very clear that something was off. Scarlett tried bringing you into the conversations several times, but you immediately clammed up.

It was becoming increasingly clear to the cast, that it was obviously not stress from school (which none of them bought anyway). You noticed the awkwardness too, contemplating if you were being too much of a downer. They would probably have a better time if you didn’t drag them down, you thought.

“I should go,” you said suddenly, making their heads snap towards you. You forked your untouched chicken.

“Why?” Sebastian asked, as you stood up and grabbed your jacket. You stilled.

You were conflicted in that moment, wondering wether to confess to them or suck it up and go home. You just didn’t know how to be less of a bother.

“Don’t lie,” Scarlett said, noticing your conflicted state. You frowned.

“Am I.. Annoying?” you whispered. There was a moment of silence.

“What?” Chris exclaimed, baffled. You looked up at them.

“Am I- Am I weird? Because if so, I-I can just go home-”

There came a choir of whats and nos, and outrage from the table. Everyone spoke over one another for a moment, desperately trying to let you know as clearly as possible.

“Hey!” Anthony’s booming voice shut the rest of the guests up. He looked you in the eyes, “None of us think or have ever thought that you were annoying. And for your information, you’re only weird in a good way. Now, would you mind telling us why you suddenly think this?”

He was calm in a way the public never saw him. Dropping the silliness and handling the situation. It was quiet then.

You felt horribly sad, as you thought about those girls at school. You sighed and blinked away tears. Your cast members’ faces grew even more worried at this.

“Come on, N/n. Sit down again and let’s talk about this,” Elizabeth said gently, patting your chair. You nodded hesitantly, and sat down. You fiddled with your napkin self-consciously. They waited for you to speak.

“Well.. There are these girls at my school. I don’t know- They just.. Started making fun of me, I guess,” you mumbled, ashamed and avoiding their gazes.

“They said you were annoying?” Chris asked.

You nodded. Sighs could be heard around the table. If you had dared look up, you’d have seen several clenched jaws and fists, displeased faces, and frowns.

“Have you told anyone?” Sebastian then asked.

You shook your head. You felt someone grasp your hand and looked up to see Sebastian, sitting across from you, holding your hand gently. He smiled sympathetically.

“First of all, Y/n, you’re not at all annoying. You’re the type of person anyone can love, you’re so refreshing to be around, and you always have something funny to say,” Scarlett begun after a moment of silence. You smiled softly.

“Secondly, this is something you need to tell the principle, and I don’t want to hear anything about how you don’t want to confront them or anything. You shouldn’t tolerate that,” her voice was tough and determined. You knew she was right, so you nodded.

There was a moment of silence.

“So.. Have you discovered anything strange you want to share with us?” Anthony asked then. A large, toothy smile enveloped your face, as you remembered that there was, in fact, something you had been excited to share with them.

“Yeah, so, uhm.. I’ve been playing this game..”

And with that, everything was back to normal. You entertained them like you always did with your bright and bubbly personality, and you felt confident and happy again.

It would take you a lot longer than just that night, to fully understand why you were amazing and exactly why you weren’t annoying, but the most important thing was that you were happy and confident right then and there.

You called the principle, of course, and those girls were expelled. Your friends apologized for their behavior, but you decided not to be friends with them again, not with the way they treated you. You weren’t mean about it, just got some better, more sincere friends.

Although, you were grateful for friends you had had in that time. Your cast mates started complimenting you more, just slightly here and there. And if any interviewer or fan commented on your personality, the cast would get incredibly protective very fast.

They knew that your personality was an easy place for people to pick on you, and they just wanted to make sure, that you knew you were a lovely human being. And with how much they reminded you, it got hard to forget. But that’s only a good thing, because you really are a good person :)

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @snarky–starky @garbage-potato @lozzypoz321 @allthecreativeonesaretaken @missamericana713 @rororo06 @shady80smusicsingercolor @ireadfanficforfun @deephideoutmilkshake @rae-is-typing @sophs-library @herecomesthewriterwitch

#chris evans x reader #sebastian stan x reader #anthony mackie x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #scarlett johansson x reader #marvel cast x reader #mcu cast x reader #avengers cast x reader #avengers cast x teen!reader #chris evans angst #sebastian stan angst #anthony mackie angst #elizabeth olsen angst #avengers cast angst #scarlett johansson angst

1K notes · View notes

espinosaurusrexex · 3 years

Text

Not Nice

In which Jeff and y/n have a heart to heart conversation about their relationship.

warnings: angst; just really sad, because that's what I do... BUT don’t worry, ya girl put some serious fluff in there, too!

a/n: Hello! God, it’s been a long time... How is everyone doing? I just felt like putting something out there again after not being able to write for so long. I don't know why; and I should actually be working on some term papers, but I found myself writing this so fast. I wrote this, because I felt like it, so it is not request related. I hope there are still some people whose feed this will end up on. I would love some feedback and as always: please enjoy! I hope you didn't forget about me :)

word count: 2.7k

It was a cool California night. Still not cold for February, but enough to send a shiver through your body when stepping outside. Y/n would normally not even consider going out right now, but the situation had called for it. David had called her minutes before, screaming at her through the phone to get her butt over to his house for a big problem that left him sleepless. She had fallen asleep on her desk trying to complete one of the assignments that were due by the end of the semester and basically fell off her chair when her phone rang annoyingly loud in her right ear. To say that she would rather be in her warm bed instead of her cold leather car seat was an understatement. But she knew that not helping David would leave her sleepless for days and seeing that it had already been 4 in the morning, she grabbed her keys and left. She was so tired that the lines on the road kept blurring in different directions. Just a couple more minutes, she thought to keep her focus on the road, but the exhaustion was unbearable at this point. A loud horn drew her back to reality when she accidentally served in the other lane. Shaking and flustered, she pulled over and rubbed her face with her hands aggressively. Pull yourself together Y/n. David needs your help. She looked up again, but the headlights of the few other cars made her eyes hurt, giving her an instant headache. That’s it. She was selfless, but not irresponsible. After searching for her phone in the passenger seat, she dialed Jeff’s number. Why she called him, she didn’t know. It was like an automatic movement to type in his number. The shrill beeping of the phone echoed through her head until Jeff’s sleepy voice broke it. “Are you Ok?“ He sounded confused and his voice reminded her of the time he had a terrible cold. Shit. “Oh my God. I’m sorry I didn’t think about the time. I-,“ but Jeff interrupted his friend with a chuckle. “It’s Ok. I was about to get up anyway.“ There was silence, and Y/n could hear him shuffling out of his bedsheets. “David called me and said he wanted me to help him with something.“ Y/n could almost hear the eye roll on the other line, and if she weren’t so tired, she would have probably laughed at it. “I’m guessing he called you, too?“ It sounded more like a question, but Jeff knew that he was right. “Yeah that’s actually why I called…“ She rested her head on the seat. “I’m on Linkin’ Road and I am too tired to drive… I was wondering… I- Could you maybe pick me up?“ She closed her eyes to focus on her friend’s voice. Jeff was grinning, she could hear it when he agreed to pick her up. Y/n’s heart beat faster at this. It was so insignificant and yet so attractive to her.

A couple minutes passed until Jeff’s car pulled up next to hers, sending vibrations through the floor and back to Y/n’s. She looked up and spotted a grinning man on the driver’s side rolling down the window to throw a holler at her. “Need a ride, beautiful?“ Y/n smiled, trying to hide the butterflies in her stomach. She got into his car taking in his woody scent and buckled up. Jeff threw a blanket over her legs and drove towards David’s house. The Drive was about 20 minutes and spend with Jeff humming to the calm tunes of the radio that sent Y/n straight to sleep. When they finally arrived, he tapped her shoulder lightly. “Y/n wake up. We’re here.“

They both walked into the house and went straight for the living room, where David was probably seated. It was so bright that Y/n had to rub her eyes. As soon as the brunette noticed his friends, he jumped up excitedly. “Now that everyone is finally here…“ It was just now that Y/n noticed that her whole friend group was scattered in the living room, snuggled up with fuzzy blankets or their significant other. Everyone was looking up to David, who was now standing on top of his couch table waving his remote control in the air. “It came to my attention that our dear friend Jeff has a problem.“ His grin grew wider with every word and if Y/n weren’t so exhausted, she would have probably noticed the mischief in David’s eyes. Jeff was looking around the room, trying to figure out if anybody could give him a hint on what was about to happen, and in his mind, a series of problematic things, he had recently done, were playing like a record. „What do you mean?“ He laughed nervously and scooted closer to Y/n. It always calmed him down to feel her next to him. David proceeded to pull his audience’s attention to the TV behind him. A blurry picture showed on the screen, displaying a woman in a tight blue dress and Jeff dancing in a rather inappropriate way. “Jeff, I think someone might have leaked something to the paparazzi.“ Before Y/n could process what was happening, the room filled with laughter. Y/n stood there as if she had turned to stone, too tired to show any form of emotion. She struggled to pull the corners of her mouth into a smile but she felt like throwing up then and there. Why did he not tell me about this? Why is this making me so sad? It was when Jeff’s hand had touched hers, that she was pulled back to reality. A wave of emotions came crushing over her, making her eyes water and her already pounding headache intensify. She was mad for so many reasons. Mad about David for pulling her away from a much-needed sleep by using her good conscience and selflessness to get her to his house for an immature prank that broke her heart. She was mad that she had not realized sooner how much of an impact Jeff actually had on her. And most of all, she was mad about the fact that something so stupid could even make her mad. It was all too much, and Y/n could not hold it any longer. Her thoughts had been weighing her down for too long now, making her feel like collapsing under their pressure. “Y/n are you okay?“ David managed to yell across the room. “What do you think of Jeff’s new girlfriend?“ Those words hit her like a truck. Girlfriend. The word made her shiver. Jeff did not have a girlfriend for the entire time they had known each other and Y/n never had to deal with the possible bother she would get from it. “I think they look great together!“ Someone said and this made Y/n burst. “You wanna know what I think about it?“ Everyone cheered, waiting for Y/n to drop a punch line. “I think that you’re an asshole, David. This is such bullshit!“ Low laughter were heard until David spoke again: “Don’t be such a drag, Y/n/n.“ Y/n tensed up again and Jeff tried to nudge her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down, but she shrugged him off harshly. “You don’t know what it is like to have responsibilities. I am late on two assignments and the average amount of sleep I get each night is about 2 hours. And you know what I ditched those two hours for today? Your fucking stupid prank. You think you can order everyone at any time just to end up on a 4:20 min vlog. You live in some fucked up carefree parallel universe. But guess what! Not everyone has this reality. Grow up, David! I can’t do this anymore. Being your friend is beyond exhausting and you don’t even care. God! You are the worst person I know!“ The room fell silent until a quiet “That was so uncalled for…“ could be heard. Y/n searched the crowd for the source of that statement in vain. “I’m just saying what every-“ But Jeff interrupted her, “Y/n! That’s enough!“ She shot him a dark glimpse and left the house with a shaking head.

Y/n trembled from head to toe when she burst through the door of David’s house and the brisk air hit her skin. She just started to walk with no direction in mind. Her view was blurry from the tears pooling up in her eyes, but she did not care. The exhaustion in her bones was making her body hurt. Y/n did not stop, though. She just walked in hopes of the pain in both her heart and body was going to fade after some time. It felt like hours until she finally stopped. Her feet had lead her to a familiar spot. A small clearing with a beautiful view over the city. She sat down and allowed herself to breathe for the first time in hours. What have I done?

It was still dark when Jeff's Car pulled up on the clearing. He sat in the driver’s seat for a while watching Y/n’s back shake and his heart felt squeezed. He always knew that he had a soft spot for her, but this felt different. Almost too much to process. He took a deep breath and walked up to Y/n, resting his hand on her shoulder once again. She looked up and smiled at him with this glimmering spark of sunshine in her eyes, but this time it wasn’t real. Not genuine enough for her. “I don’t get it. You seem like the happiest person in the world.“ Jeff sat down shaking his head while studying the floor beneath his feet. Y/n looked up. Anger flickered in her eyes as she realized what had slipped out of her friend’s mouth. “You wanna know why I’m always positive? You want to know why I’m always so ‚nice‘?“ Tears streamed down her face while she tried to hide the way her features cramped up in pain from the thoughts that flooded her brain like a tsunami. Y/n held her breath for a few seconds trying to collect herself before talking again. The attempt to cover up the ugly sobs that were about to slip her lips made her head feel like bursting. “I’m nice because I’m scared that if I speak my mind, people won’t like me anymore. I am positive because a lot of times I feel like that is the only thing that people could like about me.“ The words hit Jeff right in the heart. He caught her eyes for a second and shivered. He could see her breaking. Breaking to the point where it wouldn’t be a quick fix anymore that could be handled by a hug or kind words. No, the girl he saw in front of him, the very same girl that was sitting there, knees tucked to her chest, face hidden between it and her shoulders, was crumbling into a million pieces. Her body quivered as she attempted to hold her knees even tighter, trying everything to not fall apart any further. Jeff’s eyes started to water. It was a feeling he had never felt before. As if his heart was pulling on thin strains that were able to flood his entire brain with emotions yet so fragile. He hated seeing her like that. He hated everything about this situation. But the worst thing was that he didn’t know how to fix things. He wanted her to be happy, to be careless, and not let people’s opinions or some stupid assignment get the better of her, but he didn’t know how. It’s started to annoy him to the point where even the sky above him with the beautiful stars made him furious. “I had no idea…“ he trailed off after a while. Every word leaving his lips felt like one too much, but at the same time, he felt like he was not even able to say enough to fix things for her. “I’m so sorry.“ He just sat there shaking his head while moving some soil with his right hand. Y/n stayed quiet. She didn’t know what to say either. She felt bad for laying all her issues on him like that, but it felt so good. Iike a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Before she could even think about a response, Jeff interrupted her again. “You should feel able to tell me stuff like this, Y/n/n.“ They locked eyes and Y/n could see the pain in his. “No, I know… It's just that-“ “That what?“ Jeff was desperately hoping for anything that could help him help her. “I don't want to be a bother… especially not for you.“ She hid her face between her knees again, fighting the tears that were threatening to spill. “Oh, Y/n… You could never.“ He grabbed her hands and basically forced her to look back at him again. Y/n could feel the wet soil squeezed between their fingers, making her hand tingle a little. “Never in a million years do or say anything that would make me think anything less of you than an amazing person.“ A genuine smile formed on Jeff’s lips. He could see her relaxing with his touch. Just like he did with hers. “That means a lot, Jeff.“ The way she said his name sent shivers down his spine. His smile grew even wider and Y/n took the tiny bit of confidence in her to speak again. “Especially coming from you… I-“ Secretly hoping he would interrupt her like he always did, Y/n looked up through her lashes. “I know. Me too…“ Jeff smiled. There was this twinkle in his eyes. Just a faint glimmer for every other person, but for Y/n it meant the world. Like a whole new galaxy had been opened just for her. There was something so obvious and unspoken between them now and Y/n loved that they both knew what it was. With no intention to address it, Jeff leaned in closer to her. He watched her face with intent, making sure that she was feeling better from her previous breakdown before he planned on doing anything else. But all she did was smile and hint a small nod his way. That was enough for him. He longed for her lips. His hand wandered back to her shoulder, squeezing it slightly as he bumped his nose against hers. Y/n moved her fingers towards Jeff’s face, touching the scruff on his jaw lightly. They could feel the electricity dancing in the centimeters that separated them. With a final look into her eyes, Jeff pressed his lips against hers, enjoying the warmth for a moment. They started to move in synch, devouring each other. There was nothing else at this moment. Nothing, except for the salty taste of tears and the overwhelming warmth of a loved one. Jeff’s chest felt like bursting from joy. He loved the feeling this moment was giving him. It felt like finally breathing after holding a breath for a month. Their kiss felt like a Valve that had finally been opened for Y/n. It was letting all the hurt and worry out of her system and made the moment even more enjoyable.

Once they separated from one another, there was nothing but positivity lingering in the air around them. They looked into each other’s eyes until Y/n was ripped from the moment by a yawn that had been sitting in her throat for hours. She rested her head on Jeff’s shoulder and slowly drifted off to sleep. Jeff was stroking her head calmly. There were no more words needed anymore. This moment was perfect.

Jeff looked ahead and noticed the sun rising on the horizon, dipping the world into beautiful red and yellow tones. He took a deep breath, leaning back carefully and enjoying the considerably most wholesome moment to ever exist.

Hey hey, it’s me again. I know it’s not the best and I know it’s kinda short, but I just wanted to get something out there again. It felt good to write, but unfortunately I don’t have a lot of time lately. I hope you enjoyed this little piece anyways. I would love to hear some feedback on it. Thank you so much for reading this far!

310 notes · View notes

heyyyharry · 4 years

Text

"you drew stars around my scars but now i’m bleeding”

(a blurb from the My Girl Series)

…in which Y/N tells herself this is the last time.

Warning: SMUT (car sex)

Word count: 2.8k

AU: older!harry (4-year age gap), actor!harry, childhood best friends, friends with benefits.

“DON’T CALL ME KID! DON’T CALL ME BABY! LOOK AT THIS GODFORSAKEN MESS THAT YOU MADE ME!” 😔 inspired by folklore.

“Did anyone see you leave?”

“No,” Harry said, leaning back and spreading his legs as she worked his zip down. She’d been thinking about this all day, but he didn’t have to know that. If men knew how much you wanted them, they’d only want you less At least that was from her personal experience.

She took his cock out of his pants, fingers curling over the smooth, hot skin of his shaft and sliding up to tease at the edge of his foreskin. The head of Harry’s prick was already slick, and she sucked his precum off her fingers before licking her palm and stroking and squeezing around him until he whimpered. They had done this so many times that she knew his body even better than he did. She knew how to work him up, how to run her thumb over the head of his cock so he’d buck into her grip and whimper her name. But she didn’t want to hurry.

She struggled a bit to get her pants off, hating that they were in the backseat of his car instead of her place or his. They’d usually meet at hers, but her neighbour was having a party tonight; it’d be impossible for Harry to come and go without being recognised and photographed. But she didn’t need a fancy hotel room or a comfortable bed, because they were just hooking up. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Should have worn a blood dress,” she muttered, fighting her bunched-up jeans and kicking them under the front seat.

Harry laughed, but as soon as she peeled off her damp panties, his breath caught and his nostrils flared. She knew his car would smell like them at the end of the night when he drove home alone, and something about that erotic thought turned her on even more.

She gracefully slid into his lap. His hand slipped down to stroke at the silky heat of her pussy, two fingers opening her up, spreading her slick and rubbing at her clit until she began to tremble. She clutched his wrist to still him so she wouldn’t come on his fingers then kissed him before he could say a word. She bit his lip, curled her free hand into his messy hair, and moved her hips so she could rub the thick crown of his cock against her.

She’d been on the pill lately, so it was easy to just grab for his dick and guide it into her. He loved it when she told him how big he was, how full she made her feel, murmuring filthy words into his ear as he fucked her, hard and fast, flushed with the praise. But when they were as horny as they were tonight, she didn’t have to say anything; she couldn’t. Her mouth hung open without making a sound as she felt the first, deep, blunt push of his cock into her pussy. It always ached a little no matter how many times they’d had sex. He always stretched her so good, but she was too wet to need a pause.

“God, I missed you,” he hissed, filling her to the brim as she settled into his lap. She tried to ignore the effect those words had on her, and to not wonder if he really missed her or only what she was willing to give him.

She clung onto his neck and shoulders and clenched down as his hand went under her thighs, lifting her, moving her on the length of his cock. The head slid over her g-spot, and she gasped and ground harder against him. His fingers clenched around the backs of her thighs as he let her set the pace and planted sloppy kisses down the side of her neck. He nuzzled her hair out of the way and made small noises against her hot skin.

She rode him faster, snapping her hips against his and making him moan. She wondered if they were shaking the car and somehow felt thankful for the fact that the car park was empty. They weren’t trying to keep it lowkey anymore.

Harry whispered her name as his fingers dug into her thighs. She can feel his dick flexing inside her. She knew he was close. He always waited on her like a true gentleman, and she kissed him clumsily as she slid a hand down to rub at her clit.

What shoved her to the edge was the way Harry groaned and bit his lip as her moving fingers brushed the base of his cock. His hips jerked, and they were both so close for each other. Her slick pussy started pulsing as she sobbed into his mouth and he squeezed her tighter, so tight she could feel his fingernails leaving marks in the soft flesh of her thighs. She would go home alone with those marks as a reminder of this moment, and she’d either feel bad about it or want him even more. Usually both.

“Yes, baby, come for me.”

And those were the words that set her off. Him calling her baby was her ultimate weakness, even if it might not mean anything to him. His thrusts were getting faster, messier, driving into the tight clench of her as she cried out and ground her hips. She shuddered against him as she came again.

“Gonna,” he whispered, his hips stuttering and his fingers tightened, and then he was spurting hotly into her, filling her up until his come was trickling back down over his balls. She was already thinking of the way he’d have to tug his coat close just in case he ran into the paps. Meanwhile, she would go back to her flat still feeling the hot pulse of him having been in her. Everything about it was dirty, and she loved it.

Harry rested his head back as she started nipping at the side of his neck, feeling his pulse racing beneath her lips. “That was...so good,” she said, still breathless.

“I know.” He gave a soft laugh which turned to a groan as she slipped off his still-hard, sensitive cock. She grabbed his face and pulled his lips back to hers. His hands burned against her back, drawing her close.

They’d had sex, again. And he still wanted her.

She had no idea why she must reassure herself that he wanted her every single time they were together. Perhaps because this felt surreal. Because if she told her teenage self that someday she’d be having sex with Harry in the backseat of his car, that girl would not believe it. In her memory, Harry had always been untouchable. Yet here he was, burying his face into her neck and inhaling her scent as if she were air. She could feel his heartbeat against her chest. This felt real. Even though she knew it was anything but.

“Kid.”

His voice snapped her back to reality. Her eyes flinched open and she saw his face twisted with worry as he took her wrist and removed her arm around his neck.

Her heart wavered at the thought that he’d finally decided that this was wrong and wanted to end this. Wouldn’t it be cruel? To say he didn’t want this anymore after he’d just finished inside her? Would he tell her to get out of the car and leave her here all on her own?

To her surprise and confusion, he lifted her arm, still catching his breath. That was when she realized he was peering at the scars on her forearm. “How did you get these?” he asked.

“I fell.”

“When?”

“A few weeks ago.” She giggled. “It’s no big deal. I was running for the bus and the pavement was slippery.”

Harry frowned. His gaze slipped from hers as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the scar. Her heart leapt involuntarily. And she hated herself for it.

“Remember when I used to draw stars around your scars,” he whispered, his dimples darkening in the dim streetlight. The memory of the happier days warmed her from inside out, and she felt it showing on her face.

“Because I said my legs looked ugly after my bike accident,” she said timidly.

“You fell a lot back then.” Harry looked up, his forehead creasing as if he was trying to remember one of those times. “I thought you’d get less clumsy when you grew up but I guess I was wrong.”

Grinning, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You can always draw stars around my new scars.”

“Or,” he kissed the corner of her mouth, “you can stop running in the rain.”

She laughed as she kissed him again and pretended that they weren’t in the backseat of his car in an empty car park, that they didn’t have to sneak around, that whatever she was feeling right now was valid, that he would rather be with her than go back to the world where she did not belong.

And so they finished cleaning up and laughing for a whole minute about the stain on his crotch. As she pulled her jeans back on and he adjusted his clothes, what had felt like a euphoric rush now felt like shame and a bit of regret. She shrugged it right off. It was normal. No one should be proud if they had to drive to a place like this to have sex just so they wouldn’t be seen together.

Then, the thought of them being seen together briefly crossed her mind. How would he react if the world found out? Would he be ashamed? Would he end this? Or would he say fuck it and risk it all for her?

She twisted her hair into a low bun, secured it with her scrunchie and turned to face him. To her surprise, he was giving that goofy dimpled smile that her thirteen-year-old self would write ten pages about in her journal. It was funny how he’d always been so close yet always felt a thousand miles away. She knew she was his girl, but had he ever been hers?

She reached up to fix his hair, only using it as an excuse to run her fingers through it. He took another glance at her scars and frowned a bit, which made her wonder why they bothered him so much. Was he finally paying attention to her imperfections?

“Have you got a pen?” he asked.

She looked at him funny but still answered, “Yeah, I always carry one around to take notes.” Then she reached for her bag in the passenger seat, fumbled for her black pen and gave it to him.

He clicked the pen open and scooted closer, tucking her arm under his as he held onto her wrist and carefully drew stars around her scars.

“Really?” she giggled, and he shushed her.

“Don’t move. Do you want ugly stars?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Oh, baby, when I’m done, you’ll want to get ‘em tattooed.”

Her smile thinned as a chill coursed through her. He needed to warn her before calling her baby. It did inexplicable things to her; things she wasn’t so proud of.

“There you go,” he said and clicked the pen close with a victorious smirk upon his face.

She peered at the stars he’d drawn and raised both eyebrows. “Not bad.”

“Hey, I’m twenty-four years old. I should draw better than when I was thirteen,” he said with a shrug, laced their fingers together and kissed the back of her hand, as one would to their girlfriend. Why was she thinking of that word right now? What had gotten into her? She wasn’t this person.

The sound of a text broke the silence in the car and Harry groaned loudly before fumbling into the pocket of his coat draped around the driver’s seat. He unlocked the screen, the bright light illuminating his face. His dimples deepened as he read the message and typed something into his phone. She heard a whoosh of the message being sent, then a ding of a new one arriving. The serenity of their own world had been intruded by this person who was texting him.

She didn’t want to care who it was, who made him smile and shake his head and bite his lip as he thought of something to write back to make the person smile, too. She didn’t want to care if he was going to see this person once he’d dropped her off. She didn’t want to know if he’d wake up alone tomorrow or in bed with a beautiful woman. That wasn’t how their ‘thing’ was supposed to work. She was supposed to mind her own business. But she wasn’t to blame, for he wasn’t supposed to draw stars around her scars, kiss them like he meant it, and called her ‘kid’ and ‘baby’ as if this was special.

It wasn’t.

She wasn’t.

“It’s late,” he said and tucked his phone into the pocket of his jeans. It’s not late, she wanted to say, but she didn’t. “I’ll drive you home.”

She felt the urge to ask if he had other plans later. The question lingered at her throat, yet she swallowed it down.

“I can walk home,” she said, putting on her coat as he’d already put on his and seemed so eager to get rid of her.

“Alone? At this hour?” he asked, his eyes wide. “Kid, don’t be ridiculous. I’ll drive you.”

“It’s too risky,” she sighed. “I bet that most of my neighbour’s party guests are just arriving. His parties usually last all night long.”

She’d almost used it as an excuse to spend the rest of the night with Harry. She guessed it wasn’t happening now. She could either let him drive her home to get some more time with him or be smart about this and not put themselves in danger of being seen together. They weren’t so far from her block and she didn’t mind walking.

“I can’t let you walk home alone at night, Bambi,” he said. There was the same tone that her father would use. Moments like this reminded her that he was older and she would always be just a kid to him.

“Fine. I’ll call Alice to pick me up.”

Alice was her co-worker. But of course, she wasn’t going to bother Alice.

Harry studied her expression for a long moment as if to check if she was lying. Surprisingly, he believed her, or he had no choice but to believe her so he could leave as fast as he could.

“All right,” he said, leaned in and kissed her forehead, his lips hot against her skin. “Call me when you get home safe, okay?”

“Okay.” She pressed her lips into a smile and got out of the car.

Harry insisted on waiting until Alice arrived, but she threatened him with the fact that Alice was a big fan of his, and she’d be the last person who should find out about their “thing”, whatever this was. So Harry left first. The pained expression that he gave her before he drove off somehow made her feel reassured. Or was she just looking for any sign that showed that he cared about her more than he appeared to be?

Tearing her gaze from the empty street, she secured her bag on her shoulder and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. As she walked home, she kept pulling up her sleeve to check if the stars Harry had drawn were still there. She knew she’d have to wash them off later in the shower. Still, she wanted to keep them as good as new for as long as they lasted.

The longer she looked at them, however, the heavier her heart became. She could not help but recall the feeling she’d had when he’d kissed them, and guilt washed over her as her heart started sinking to the bottom of her chest. And so she told herself this would be the last time, that she’d not answer his call ever again. No more secret meetings and false hopes and daydreaming. If she didn’t want to bleed, she should stop running in the rain.

But there was something about running in the rain – the excitement, the longing, the feeling of being washed clean even though you’d arrived home shivering, drenched, and covered in mud. And so she knew this wouldn’t be the last time. She’d keep running until she fell and could not get up.

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles x you #harry styles dirty imagine #harry styles dirty imagines #harry styles series #my girl series #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff

683 notes · View notes

johnkrrasinski · 3 years

Text

‘tis the damn season

full masterlist

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 1,044

Warning: fluff!! pure feelings

Summary: i was inspired by another of @mypoisonedvine‘s prompt from her festive writing challenge ‘being with you is the best gift i could ask for.’ you and bucky agreed not to exchange gifts this christmas, however, bucky always found a way to surprise you.

a/n: had this idea while i was in the shower and spontaneously wrote it since it’s christmas eve and i’m in the mood for another holiday fluff with bucky. enjoy and merry christmas folks! leave a feedback :)

❅ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ❅

“A little to the left, nope! Too much, go to the right… A bit more, go back to the left, stop! Exactly right there!”

Bucky came down from the stool after displaying the angel on your gigantic Christmas tree in your living room. Since the lockdown began, the Avengers were forced to return to their own places because even superheroes are not immune to the virus (unless you are a super-soldier who has survived worse than a virus) and living together in a compound could be risky.

So you and Bucky swiftly searched for a place in Brooklyn and you decided to live together. You both practically had by sharing the same room while in the compound anyway. The pandemic hadn’t been easy for everyone, including both of you who are unable to spend it with your ragtag teammates that you have grown to love like family, but it has its perks too.

You could wake up at 11 AM on Wednesday and stay in bed until the afternoon without training sessions and brief meetings intruding. Another one was you could put up a giant Christmas tree that nearly touched the ceiling and decorate it as embellished as possible and no one would complain because it belonged to you and Bucky only. Just like the rest of the place.

You sat on the floor in your ugly Christmas sweater with a mug of hot chocolate in your hand and you watched the tree light up, illuminating its periphery while Bucky put back the stool to behind the kitchen bar. You were so entranced by the Christmas tree and its ornaments in front of you that you didn’t notice Bucky sitting next to you with something in his hand.

“Isn’t it pretty?” Without averting your eyes from the tree.

“Yeah, it is,” Bucky took a second to admire the art he and you worked on together. “Ma used to love putting up a Christmas tree while we were sleeping and the next morning, she’d surprise us with gifts and pretend to have no clue how it got there,” he chuckled. “Funny thing is that I actually believed that Santa was real and he put those gits there for us.”

“That’s really sweet, Buck,” You always loved hearing stories of his childhood. Bucky didn’t have much while growing up but the Barnes loved each other endlessly and that warmed up your heart like a fireplace amidst the winter. While Bucky couldn't remember vividly much about his past, some of the memories came back in flashes to him, sometimes they visited him in his dreams and you were always there for him to share those stories.

“Presents used to be my favourite part of Christmas but as I grew older, I realized that it should be about celebrating it with your loved ones and be grateful for their presences in your life,” you gazed at the beautiful man sitting next to you who looked charmingly adorable in his ugly sweater that matched yours, “and if there’s anything I’m most grateful for this year, it’s you.”

Bucky’s blue eyes bored into yours before he kissed you fondly with a smile on his face, “I need to tell you something.” He uttered with all seriousness in his tone.

Your brows furrowed and your smile turned upside down, “you’re not breaking up with me, aren’t you?” Bucky chortled, “no! Baby, I could never.”

“Okay, ‘cause for a second there you got me worried.”

“I know we said that we won’t exchange gifts this year but two weeks ago, I was Googling something and this ad came up and I knew you’d love it so I just had to get it for you.” Bucky showed a big box wrapped up in a wrapping paper with Santa Claus and friends on it and a red shiny bow on top.

“Bucky…”

“Open it,” he looked more excited to see you unwrap it.

You carefully tore the wrapping paper and a baby pink portable record player revealed itself to you and you were speechless. Bucky even got it in your favourite colour too. “Oh my God, Buck…”

“You like it?”

“I- I love it, Bucky. But I just… I mean, this is so thoughtful and I feel bad cause I didn’t get you anything.”

Bucky shook his head with his soft smile intact, “it’s okay, doll. Being with you is the best gift I could ask for.” He uttered with sincerity in his gaze and earnestness in his tone. Tears welled up in your eyes, the good kind, the kind that expressed the love and affection you had for the man before you and the realization that he returned that love in the same amount and perhaps even more.

“Thank you so much, babe. This is wonderful, I’ll cherish it forever.”

“My pleasure, doll. I knew you’ve always wanted to play those vinyl records of yours and now you can.”

An idea crossed your head, “wait here.” You got up to your room and you came back with a vinyl record of Frank Sinatra’s Christmas music and you set the record player on the table and played the record. “It sounds really nice,” Bucky got up and walked toward you.

“Dance with me,” you took his hand and put them around your waist and you circled yours around Bucky’s neck.

“Gladly, sweetheart.”

You held each other tight as Frank Sinatra’s soothing voice filled up the room, making the atmosphere felt schmaltzy. Your tangled bodies moved to the song playing, not caring about the rhythm or the beat, just clinging to each other and the warmth your bodies radiated. You laid your head on Bucky’s chest, inhaling his scent all over his sweater, as Bucky put his on your shoulder.

This was it. The moments that make life worth living. Through all the chaos and despair, as long as you and Bucky had each other, it was enough for you to live through each horrendous day. You had no clue what next Christmas holds, hell, you don’t even have the slightest bit idea of what January holds, but one thing for sure was that Bucky would still be there to be the greatest blessing you could ever ask for, and so would you to him.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes christmas #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan christmas #bucky barnes drabble

222 notes · View notes

cosmic-lavender · 3 years

Text

Stability Chapter 14

*****The ending to Stability is here! Stay tuned for the ending in the finale coming "Tranquility" WARNING THIS CHAPTER DEALS WITH CHILD LOSS. Sorry if it's a spoiler, but I wanted to warn y'all. *******

"Wake the fuck up, you piece of shit!" Otis was jerked awake by the loud sound of Wydell screaming in his face and kicking the foundation under him. He adjusted his eyes and found to his horror and he was tied to a chair. They were back at the house in Ruggsville. Looking to his side, he saw his sister and Spaulding in the same situation. Wydell backed away from him, taking a massive swig from his whisky bottle before slamming it back down on the table.

The trio was tried on chairs and shown other pictures of the victims that they had recovered. This was a small amount that you could not shove in the trunk of your car as evidence. Wydell was in a drunken haze and rage. Vengeance had overtaken him; the idea that he was the hand of God sent here to cleanse the earth has consumed him. He held up a picture in front of Baby's face asking her if she remembers the girl in the picture; he then turns to show Otis, "not so attractive after we pulled her out of your little torture shack.” Otis laughed darkly " I tried that bitch to my bed for a month, busted her wide open.”

Wydell spits on the ground next to him in disgust. "Well, he's a little memento for your time together" " that bitch was mine," Baby spat out, "stupid whore" Wydell suddenly grabbed the staple gun he had placed on the floor next to the table and, to Otis and Spalding's horror, stapled it to Baby's stomach. The men exchanged looks of anger, panic, and worry. The love for their daughter and sister and the fact they were helpless to her pain was torture in itself. "Which one did you say you busted open again? This one, right?!" Wydell then grabbed the second photo stapling it to Otis's chest. The sharp pain shot thru him, and he grew angrier.

"Alright, alright, now that I got everyone's attention, I have one more picture to show y'all, and now I'ma need y'all to make sure you take a good look, and I mean a good look…" he took another swig off his whiskey and reached down to grab another picture. "Now I've been looking for this little lady, and now I hear she goes by the name Kitty driftwood, which is a dumbass name if you ask me, but her government name is ( y/n y/last name )."

He held up a picture of you taken at the hotel as you were loading up the car. Otis froze in his seat, and his palms become sweaty and hot. He swallowed as his throat became tight; you looked scared in the picture.. lost and alone. He did this to you, and he made you go on without him; he thought it was the right thing to do now, he's not sure. "Ringing any bells for all of you? Hmm"? Wydell asked, holding your picture in front of Baby and Spaulding. "I've never seen that bitch before," Baby spat. "I don't know who she is.” " What about you, Otis? She seems to be going by your last name.. any idea about why that would be?" Otis silently cursed you for being so casual with his last name. He was glad you didn't use your real name, but any association with them was problematic. "She might have been some Stockholm syndrome bitch who got away, I don't fucking know," Otis replied, trying to steady in his voice.. "you expect me to remember every whore that comes thru the door," he scoffed. Wydell chuckled. "I would expect you to remember your wife, Otis" Otis straightened himself a bit more, looking at Wydell in the eyes but not responding. His heart was racing now.. how much did he know about you.. "now see, at first, I thought she was just some poor soul that got turned around and was lucky enough to escape your freak show. That was until my men started to see her more and more with you clowns. And one of the men overhead her introduced herself as Kitty driftwood. I did some digging, and that's not who she is at all. She's the only survivor of the San Diego massacre. You may not remember it's been a long time, but she seems to have started a life of some sort out here after the death of her family." Wydell shifted through the pictures clicking his tongue. Otis knew about your past; he got curious one day and dug into your public records years ago. He wanted to see if anyone besides your father would come looking for you if you were to join the family. He realized you didn't remember everything that had happened back then and didn't want to bring up those memories for you.

"Why are you telling us all this?" Spalding asked, "what you do with her? What are you going to do with us? Stop playing these games, goddammit!". "I'm so glad you asked," Wydell replied, taking another drink. "so when I got word of a girl matching this description, I had my men trail her; I met up with them close to the Mexican border and decided to go check out if this was the same Lil lady. Now I expected her to be a shit ball bag of ugly in person, if I’m honest. I mean running around you all one can only expect," he chuckled " So you can imagine my surprise when I pulled over her car and saw she was a pretty little thing," he whistles " I thought about taking her out of the car and doing a little strip search myself." Otis felt his face get hot; he was becoming angrier than he's ever been. He twisted his hands in the bound rope on the chair; his breathing became more erratic. "Oh, you don't like that, huh? The idea of someone taking your woman and just having their way with her? Ironic isn't it, so I pull up, and we have a little chat. I ask her to get out of the vehicle". Baby looked over at her and saw his eyes had become dilated with rage. "You better not of hurt my sister," she said, her own eyes stinging with the tears that started to fall, "you son of a bitch".

"Now see what I did here," Wydell said, pulling up the chair closer to Baby while she whined and tried to look away from him. Otis just stared at him, his rage building and building.. he wasn't one to get anxious, but this was causing him extreme anxiety. "I prayed, I asked God to tell me what to do next because when I saw her beautiful (y/e/c) with sadness and fear, I felt I had a choice to make, Well I decided to give her a chance to come to the righteous side of glory with God. so I asked her to step out of the car, she did slowly with her arms up as I asked. She looked warm in the face and asked if she was alright; she said she was fine, just the heat was getting to her and her baby.” “Baby? Is she with a child? Oh my god, OTIS!” Baby yelled, looking over at her brother and father. “Otis, did you hear? You’re going to be a daddy!” a giant smile appeared on her face despite the situation they were in. A child, what a miracle. Otis was quiet, and his expression blank; a baby? No wonder she was so sick, no wonder she looks so worried and so scared. He finally spoke with a calm and collected tone, “where are she and my child?”. He looked at Wydell in the eyes and waited for an answer.

He took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it before answering, blowing smoke in their faces.” when I saw she was with child, I knew it was your Otis, I saw it in her eyes when she looked at the picture I held up of you. This means this was a 50/50 chance of being a miracle baby, a child of God, or a spawn of the devil. I decided to give Mrs. driftwood a chance to renounce her sinful ways with your freak show; tell me everything I want to know, and I would provide safe passage for her and her unborn child.

"I'm not going to ask you again where she is." Otis said his patients running thin "where the hell is my wife and my child?"

"I'm the one telling the story here, so I'm going to need you to be patient," Wydell said. "She stood there in the blistering heat next to her car, her hands up in the air. I told her to relax, put him down by her side, and we're just going to have a chat. I couldn't get over how beautiful she was. I had it in my right mind to take her then in there just like you had taken all those innocent women at your disposal."

Otis flinched in his chair, attempting to reach towards the sheriff. "I swear to satan if you touched her"

"Or what?" Wydell laughed, "You're not in the position to make any threats but calm down. I didn't feed my devilish temptations." He took another drag of the cigarette. "No, what I did was I told her that at this very moment, the compound where your merry band of freaks was hiding was being raided and that there was no way out of this. I knew who she was. I knew what she'd been through, and I told her that she doesn't want a life where she's just running cooperate with us, and we'll see what we can do for her. The moment I looked into her eyes, I knew she was not going to give you freaks up. She shook her head. I don't know what you're talking about and bit her lower lip. I decided at that moment that I was going to leave it up to God. I asked her to turn around and put her hands on the car. She did, then I pulled my knife." He pulled out a giant hunting knife and laid it on the table. The trio didn't speak collectively, waiting for the following words out of his mouth. All three of them were frozen in fear. They all loved you and felt powerless in the situation for themselves and what possibly may come next. "See, I walked up to her, and I said that this seed you're carrying now if it's the spawn of the devil you know I can't allow that to pollute this world any further, but this could also be one of God's children who am I to make that decision? And she looked back at me and asked what I mean, And so I got my knife, And I showed it to her, and I said, you know whatever happens next is up to God, and I stabbed her in the stomach. " As soon as those words left his mouth, Baby started to scream, "liar, you didn't lie you wouldn't stab a pregnant woman, lies you're just trying to break us, Otis doesn’t listen he's lying" Spalding spat a bunch of insults at the sheriff. Otis remained catatonic in his rage. He was so angry that he couldn't speak. He couldn't move. He could barely breathe.

The sheriff then pulled out a photo and said, "now I'm not saying I killed her, and I'm not saying it killed the baby. All I'm saying is I used my hand to be an instrument of God, and if God wanted the baby to survive, then that means it was a child of God. If it passed away well, then it was the spawn of Satan; either way, that is what happened" He slowly slid a photo of you on the ground clenching your bleeding stomach. "You should have seen the surprise on her face when I put out the Polaroid and snapped the photo of her." Baby cried and screamed; giant tears were falling from her beautiful blue eyes, Spalding still angry, throwing insults at the sheriff. Otis finally looked up, and in the most profound, most demonic voice anyone had ever heard, he quietly said, "I will watch you die. I will tear your soul apart.” Wydell stood up and grabbed a large nail from the table. “Don’t know how you’re gonna do that with your hands nailed down!” suddenly, he slammed the nails into his hands, nailing him to the table. He screamed in horror and agony at what had just taken place. Baby looked over to her brother, feeling helpless to his pain, when suddenly she felt her ties being loosened and she was free, “ you’re free to go, Babygirl, now run along run!!!!”. Wydell screamed in her face laughing; she took off toward the door; she didn’t need to be told twice.

As she ran towards what she thought was freedom, he started to pour gasoline all over the house, engulfing the once wonderful home that you all shared. As the flames lifted around them, the two men struggled to get free. The sheriff went after her, shooting into the air and taunting her as he chased her. One of the bullets hitting her in the leg and causing her to fall, but just as he thought he would have her meet her maker, tiny appeared, saving the day by breaking his neck. If it weren’t for this gentle giant, everyone would have perished in the fire. He was able to save everyone. Unfortunately, he chose not to come with the trio.

Otis took off towards the highway. He knew in his heart that you weren't dead. He would have felt it. Your connection was too strong but still, in the back of his mind, what if you weren't what he would do? He knew that he would set the world on fire that much would be for sure, but he could not fathom a reality with you, not by his side. He drove fast and faster towards your designated meet point. Nothing could stop him now except for the mountain of the police officers blocking the highway entrance. He looked over at the trio, and with a collective nod, they raced toward the police guns blazing. They had come this far, and nothing would stop them. Nothing would keep Otis from you; he pictured your face in his mind as he drove, the smell of your shampoo when he buried his face in your hair, the sound of your laugh. He had to try and get to you. There was a rain of gunfire that engulfed the vehicle. They didn't get far. Eventually, they all were stopped from the blood loss and the bullet holes they were taken to the hospital. He had failed you again.

Otis is right, though. You survived the encounter; what the sheriff didn't know was the ritual, The ritual that you all had done every Halloween, the ritual that you sacrificed souls so you could live on and become immortal through luck. This meant that if you were faced with a situation such as this, the universe would conspire to assist you all. Unfortunately, you were not pregnant during your last ritual. As you clenched your bleeding stomach, you pulled yourself into the vehicle. You were able to pull yourself into the vehicle and speed off as soon as you saw Wydell in the distance. You drove and drove until eventually, your vision got blurry, and you passed out. Somehow your car has come to a stop and ended up in a small town just on the Mexican border. A sweet couple pulled you out of the car and patched you up. The idea that you lost your child destroyed you and broke your heart. The blood loss was too much, and you miscarried. Pulling yourself together, you searched through your items, found one of your fake IDs, and headed toward Mexico, not before stopping into Brownsville to check and see if a particular person was still here.

#rob zombie #three from hell #the devils rejects #house of 1000 corpses #bill moseley #otis driftwood x reader #otis driftwood #otis firefly #sherri moon zombie #thedevilsrejects #slashers #horror #horror movies #firefly trilogy #sid haig

55 notes · View notes

shintorikhazumi · 3 years

Text

“Daydream.”

A/N: I have NOT written in a while. Or posted rather. It’s been.... a month??? I’m sorry. It’s been.. hard. I also have summer classes which are slowly choking me. Yey.

Anyway, I hope... you all enjoy? I think I’m rusty. There are a lotta plotholes and some... hhrnnghh characterization that i feel iffy about. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

Anywhooooo. Thank you to my lovely platonic crushie @tanuki-pyon hihi for allowing me to use your drawing for inspiration ;-;. Thank youuu <3 Hope you like this.

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

It is a bustling city, full of life and vivid color. The songs of the late afternoon played- their notes produced by that independent street musician, backed by the passing cars beneath the balcony, the rhythmic dripping of a loose faucet in the bath, and the rustle of leaves caused by a passing breeze that caresses her cheek.

Life, color, music, and a touch.

They all paint a particular picture- one of wine-red eyes, and a charming smile; brown locks that she had tucked behind a heated ear, adorned with exotic jewelry she had purchased for her.

As she draws the cup away from her lips, she sighs in contentment, the distinctive taste of Boldo tea and the dimming rays of light blanketing the expanse of what she could see making her smile bittersweet.

It's getting late.

She knows she has to finish her packing. After all, this fleeting vacation is a dream she'd have to wake up from, come the morning rays of tomorrow. It was short-lived, but she'd like to think these few moments in the city or Buenos Aires are moments worth remembering forever.

Even if there was a possibility that they were but a daydream.

That she is her daydream.

Her phone rings, and she sighs a different sigh. It's one of disappointment and reluctance as walks into the room, swiping the blinking gadget off the table. She taps the green icon, placing the device by her ear, eyes dulling as she listens to the speaker on the other end with poorly-veiled disinterest.

["-Are you listening?! Do you understand? The moment you step off that plane, your fiance will be there to greet you. Then he will drive you to work, and you will-"]

Her face contorts in disgust at the statement. "He's not my fiance." She says, voice cold and adamant.

["Diana! How could you say that- about Andrew Hanbridge, no less! The man who has not once given up on you, unlike all the other low-life suitors out there. He's rich, intelligent, charming, and well-mannered."]

Diana scoffs at the very first descriptor of the man she was to marry supposedly. 'Rich'. Of course he had to be.

"Listen here, and listen well. You've been off on these silly trips, writing god knows what for well over ten years. It's time you grew up and got married, and inherited the corporation!"

Diana grits her teeth, hands crumpling a few papers on the table. She immediately regrets that action as she realizes her manuscripts now have ugly creases in them, much like her own plans for life. Not that those were any easier to iron out.

["Then dinner at the Hanbridges will be at seven-thirty. Sharp. I have a dress prepared for you in your room. We will be discussing your wedding with And-"]

And she hangs up.

Turning her phone off, she throws it onto her mattress, the silken covers causing the device to slide right off and onto the floor with a thud.

Diana curses as she rushes over, checking for any cracks or damage. She hasn't turned the lights on, and her open balcony does not give her much light, so she opts to run her fingers over the screen, praying she hadn't broken anything. As able as she was to afford a phone, that doesn't mean she wanted a change at any time.

...also, her number was saved here. Diana isn’t good enough with phones to know how to retrieve that.

Diana sighs again. This time it is of relief. She leans back with a plop against the side of the bed, staring blankly at her wall.

Tomorrow... she leaves.

Tomorrow, she never sees her again.

Tomorrow, she talks of marriage plans with two families who couldn't care less about what she actually desires in life.

Tomorrow... she's gone. She may as well be dead if she wouldn't even be 'living' in the first place.

Tomorrow...

What would she be doing?

Where would she be at?

Would she still have the same smile on her face as she greeted the passersby who would freeze in place, stand in awe as time stilled for them as they become entranced in the magic that was her dance?

Diana frowns.

Would someone else fall in love with her?

Like Diana has?

...Would she... fall in love with them back...?

Diana feels a pang in her heart as she slumps to the floor, now lying against the hard wood. If she were back in the UK, she wouldn't be caught *dead* in this position. Her aunt would have her head.

She blinks, staring at the ceiling.

Oh? It's quite comfortable, she thinks, consciousness slipping into nothingness.

-It's a slap to her cheek that has her sitting up in haste, body moving in a trained way of self-defense as she arrests the perpetrator in a hold face-down onto the floors.

"Diana! Diana! Fu- shit! Waitwaitwaitwait-owowowowow it huuurtsss, it hurtsssss!!!"

And it’s a familiar voice that cuts through her panic, and makes her let go rather clumsily, resulting in more hurt for Diana’s victim.

“Akko!” She exclaims, happiness and concern in her voice.

“Well, you sure look happy. Are you into this sort of play?” The girl chuckles wryly, rubbing at her joints as she fixes herself into a seated position on the floor as Diana kneels in front of her, confused at the words.

“Play?”

“Yeah. BDSM, that kind of stuff.”

Diana flushes at the bold remark, floundering helplessly as her mind ceases to produce a coherent response.

Akko watches her with open amusement, head resting against her one propped up knee. She hugs the limb, keeping her steady as she stares at Diana unabashedly.

Diana stares back.

“Wh-what.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“I-! Ah-uh, nnggh?!” Diana doesn’t know if she’s going into a seizure. Maybe she is. Maybe she should have gone to med school after all, to confirm-

“Pff-” Akko begins giggling, then cackling, then just falling onto her back, hollering in laughter on the floor.

“Wh-what! What… why are you laughing? I- Did i do something silly?”

Akko wipes a tear from her eyes, laying on her stomach and propping her head up on both hands as she faces Diana. “You’re silly.” She teases, tongue poking out, eyes crinkled moons.

Diana can’t help herself, biting onto the bait.

It’s a deep kiss, and Diana didn’t know she knew how to do it.

What do people call it? French kissing?

They pull apart and Akko presses her sweaty forehead to Diana’s, chuckling breathlessly against her lips.

“Many types of attacks today, Miss Cavendish. You are one powerful woman with a vast arsenal.” She jests, a hand reaching to cup Diana’s face and pull her back in for a chaster peck on the lips that turns into two, then three.

“I like to have many options at my disposal.” Diana sighs into every brush of their lips, returning a few of her own, nipping at Akko’s bottom lip as she leads her into a submissive position, lying on her back with Diana hovering over her.

“Boy, am I glad you do…” Akko whispers, eyes glued to Diana’s glistening mouth, the pair leaning closer and closer and- “OHMYGOSH-WAIT. THIS. This is not what I came here to do!” Akko yelps, pushing Diana’s face away and accidentally spraining her neck.

Diana groans as she rubs at her nape, cursing quietly.

“SHIT SORRY”

Diana waves her concern away as she offers a crooked grin.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry. I’m sorry, Diana. Sorry, I-”

“Akko.” Diana giggles, carefully nearing the girl once again. She leans in slowly this time- just in case-, and plants a kiss on her cheek. “How and why did you come find me?” She asks, tone joyful, yet pained.

“Because I know you’re leaving tomorrow.”

Diana hears a record scratch, and the city’s music comes to a pause. It’s deathly silent, and her breath catches in her lungs, heart painful.

Diana’s smile falls, as she places distance between them, sitting formally in front of Akko.

“You…”

“You told me in your sleep…” Akko murmurs, her words playing flashbacks in Diana’s mind- memories of a night that was not supposed to exist.

“No- I… I… Akko…”

Voices in her head play back all her duties, her realities that tell her that the woman in front of her is not a part of them. She’s a daydream, and she’s- as all daydreams are- a fleeting one.

Diana has to wake up tomorrow morning. She has to go back tomorrow.

She has to be ‘the real Diana Cavendish’ again. Not because she wants to be. But because she is.

“Diana, I need to say that-”

“Then- then…” Diana cuts Akko off before she can deal more damage to her mental state. “Then you must know… that being here… makes it harder for me not to leave.” Diana replied with a crack in her voice. “I can’t stay, Akko. I can’t. Even if I wanted to…” She whispered, unable to project her voice.

“Diana, that’s not what this is abou-”

“I can’t stay here, Akko! I’m supposed to go home and get married!”

Her eyes widen, and so do Akko’s. Diana… doesn’t know what to say. Neither does Akko. They both remain frozen in time and in place.

“I can’t… stay here… with you…” She feels a tear slip past her cheek… then another, and another, until they dribble down her chin and onto the back of her hands that are clenched on her lap. “You’re a daydream… and… and…”

“A reality you won’t face?” Akko asks, voice surprisingly steady and clear. “I’m not a daydream, Diana Cavendish. I’m not a figment of your imagination.” She speaks, voice bolder as she gets up and walks up to Diana, making the girl crawl backwards as she hits her back against the foot of the bed.

Diana gasps as Akko grips her collar, pulling her closer to her. She instinctively closes her eyes, awaiting a hit- a punch, a slap, whatever it was.

And she gasps again as the soft caress, much like the gentle winds soothe her skin and her pounding heart.

“I’m not your summer getaway, or your escape from real life. I’m not a fairytale to lull you to bedtime that you forget once the sun rises.” Akko explains with a crooked smile, tears staining her cheeks as she buries her face into the crook of Diana’s neck. Her breaths tickle Diana there, and her tears pain Diana’s heart.

Diana moves to wrap her arms around Akko, but stops midway. She… doesn’t deserve to do that.

“...hold me…”

But Akko deserves to be listened to.

And so, Diana holds her. She holds her tight, and she doesn’t let go. Not until Akko wants her to.

“I’m not asking you to stay.” Akko murmurs against Diana’s skin as the latter runs her fingers through smooth strands of hair.

Diana admits that hearing that statement hurts as much as it relieves her.

Her sense of duty tells her she has to go back to her home in England and run her company, and yet her heart told her that Akko was her home, and that not staying would mean losing something that she might never be able to earn back again.

As much as it pained her to know more, she needs to. For both their sakes. “Then what must I do? What can I- we… what do you want me to do? What do you want us to do?”

Akko pulls back slightly, grinning sheepishly as she presses her feelings into a kiss against Diana’s lips, before pulling her up with her to head towards the door.

Upon opening it, Diana sees a few bags lined up against the wall, ready for a trip to god-knows-where.

Her mind wasn’t registering this at all-

“Bloody fuck.”

“Took you long enough to figure that one out, huh?” Akko laughs, bringing their joined hands to her lips, and kissing Diana’s palm. “Weren’t you supposed to be the smart one?”

“Well… I… holy shit…”

“I had no idea you could curse like that.”

“Mother of… my… arse…”

“Mother of your arse? Really?”

“Akko.”

“Yes?”

“Akko.”

“Yes, Diana.” Akko rolls her eyes, as she pats Diana’s cheek with her free hand. “You’re supposed to take me with you.”

“Bloody hell…” Diana murmurs. “Just marry me.”

“...”

“EH?! Really?!”

Bonus :>

“So why were you in my room that night in the first place?” Diana laughs, running her fingers along Akko’s cool arm, holding her close as they snuggled together in a hammock, reminiscing a daydream so long ago.

“Ehh... are you really asking me this right now? Diana, it’s been years since that happened.”

“And yet, I know you remember it as well as I do.” Diana laughs, knowing that Akko was rolling her eyes as she scoffs against her neck. “I’m right, aren’t I.”

“Cheeky.” Diana chuckles as Akko pokes her cheek in annoyance, but explains anyway. “I was knocking on the door, but you weren’t answering. I rang, and spoke through the intercom too. Then room service came by and I said I just forgot my key and they let me in.”

Diana feels slightly concerned about the security of that hotel. But wait, there are better questions that need answering.

“... then why did you slap me?”

“...”

“Akko?”

“Because you were asleep.”

Diana guffaws, disbelieving. There was no way she was that hard to awaken. She pulls back slightly, looking Akko in the eyes.

“You couldn’t have woken me up other ways?”

Akko looks away momentarily, feet already swung off to the side, as if she is about to step out. Which she did.

“...no?”

Diana watches her skeptically, now also sitting up.

“Akko?”

“Well, you know. It was nice chatting and all, but maybe I should get back to my practice for my road show and...”

“Akko? Akko… Akko why are you walking away? Akko- hey! Come back here- AKKO!-”

And she was gone, bolting like the wind, leaving Diana stunned and comically livid.

“ATSUKO KAGARI-CAVENDISH, YOU COME BACK HERE RIGHT. THIS. INSTANT!”

#diakko #diana cavendish #atsuko kagari #lwa #little witch academia #fanfic

39 notes · View notes