#and he was like pulling out a notebook like yea

[mcu-binge]

Pairing: Clark Kent x reader Word count: 3557

Summary: traveling for work turns interesting when you and Clark realize your cheap editor fucked up the hotel booking. But you find a way to make it work :)

Tags/warnings: smut, p in v, breeding kink (?), dom!clark, he's sweet and dorky.

A/N: Something a little different I saw the pics and my mind just kinda….went there. Also if anyone has a request for specific scenarios or prompts feel free to message me! I’m always down to write. It can be anything fluff or not ;)

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“Perry I don’t want to go by myself,” I argue with the already crabby editor in chief.

“It’s a couple drinks, get them chatting, find the senator's advisor and get me my quote.” He argues looking at the layout pages.

“You’re ignoring the rest of the work that’ll follow.” I remind him.

“I’m sorry, are you a mediocre reporter or the one I hired?” He shoots, finally looking up at me. I take a deep breath and let it out as a deep sigh throwing my head back.

“You want this done tomorrow night to print for the Sunday paper. Get me someone, literally anyone.” I say not backing down from this. He stares at me with eyes that could kill and I shoot him the same look. I’m not backing down from this.

“Clark!” He shouts. A couple seconds later Clark’s tall frame is tripping into the room.

“Yea?” He asks nervously.

“Pack a bag you’re going to DC for the weekend.”

“For……?” He drags. His eyes look around the room until he meets mine.

“Back up for a quote we need. Help with writing and editing for our front page story.” He explains.

“When are we leaving?”

“3 hours I’ll see you at the airport,” I say, patting his shoulder as I leave Perry’s office. If it had to be anyone I’m glad it was Clark he’s always willing to help.

I arrive at the airport with my carry-on slung around my shoulder and make my way to the gate when I see him waiting for coffee. His face lights up when our eyes meet and he gives me a dimpled smile.

“Hey,” I smile, walking over to him. “You had the right idea getting here early.” I laugh looking at the long line of people waiting to place their order.

“Yeah, I had a feeling,” he says, sliding me an iced coffee. The sweet gesture makes my heart leap.

“What would I do without you?” I sigh as I take a sip. We walk over to the gate.

We board early thanks to Clark’s insistence that “if we’re going to be shoved in a flying metal tube, we should at least not be the last ones to do it.” Some superstition perhaps. We find our seats, side by side, and he graciously lets me take the window without asking.

“You know this isn’t a vacation, right?” I ask as he buckles in and pulls a small notebook from his backpack.

“Yup,” he says. “Which is why I brought… two pens, a folder of background research, and” he lifts a highlighter like it’s a rare gem “a color-coding system.”

I blink at him. “You highlight sources?”

“Just the ones that matter. And I put sticky tabs next to any previous quotes from the senator’s staff.”

He opens the folder, and sure enough it’s covered in blue, yellow, and green sticky tabs like some kind of papery mosaic. I look at him, impressed despite myself.

“You’re such a nerd.” I scoff.

He grins. “You say that like it’s not the reason Perry sent me with you.”

I smirk. “He sent you with me because you’ll agree to everything I won’t.”

“That too,” Clark says, then shrugs. “Also, you hate small talk. I thrive in small talk.”

“Ugh, I really do.”

We settle in as the plane taxis. I pull out my laptop, and he leans toward me, shoulder just barely brushing mine.

“So, here’s what I’m thinking,” I say, pulling up our shared notes. “The senator’s aide usually breaks around the third glass of wine. I’ll get her talking about the local funding bill, and you listen in for anything she says off-the-record. Half of what she says accidentally ends up printable.”

“I can do that.” Clark nods, pulling out his phone to take notes. “And if you need something to make her think she’s not being recorded…”

“Send in the big charming Kansas boy?”

He grins. “With dimples and everything.”

I roll my eyes, hiding a smile. “She won’t stand a chance.”

We go quiet for a minute. I’m reviewing past statements when I feel his eyes on me. “What?” I ask, not looking up.

“Nothing,” he says quickly, “just…you get this look when you’re working. Like your brain’s five steps ahead of the conversation.”

I glance over. He’s smiling softly soft curls spilling over his forehead.

“It’s intimidating,” he adds.

“You’re a literal 6’4 wall and you’re intimidated by me zoning out with coffee and a news brief?”

He shrugs again, shy this time. “I mean, yeah.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I just laugh. “Well, keep flattering me and I might let you write the lede.”

Clark pretends to gasp. “Me? Writing the lede? Perry would faint.”

“Perry’s already half-feral. He’d just grumble and ask why there aren’t more em dashes.”

He chuckles, tapping at his screen again. I watch him for a second, his brow furrowed in concentration, bottom lip caught between his teeth, glasses slightly slipping down his nose. He really is… something.

“I’m glad it was you,” I hear myself say, and I mean it more than I expected.

His head turns slowly. “Yeah?”

I nod. Clark’s smile softens, and for a second he doesn’t say anything.

Then, voice low “Same. Honestly… I think everything’s better when it’s you.”

My chest tightens. Whether it’s the altitude or the way he’s looking at me I don’t know. But suddenly the plane feels a few degrees warmer.

I turn back to my screen.

“Don’t make me regret saying anything,” I warn lightly.

I get a lot of work done before we land. Clark insists on carrying my bag and honestly I don’t have the energy to argue. I just want to go to my room, take a bath and go to bed. We catch a cab to the hotel.

“One king bed, two nights,” the hotel clerk chirps, sliding over a single keycard.

Clark stares at the receptionist, then glances sideways at me. I should’ve known Perry was lying when he said ‘Don’t worry, the Planet’s covering everything.’

“One room?” I ask the receptionist, too stunned to even sound pissed. “That can’t be right.”

She checks again. “Yep. One room, one bed. For two nights.”

Beside me, Clark Kent exhales slowly, like he saw this coming. He doesn’t say anything, just rubs the back of his neck and gives me that “what are we gonna do” look.

“How could he mess this up? Should I call him?”

“No,” he says. “I’m not surprised. He once made me crash in his nephew’s dorm room to save on cab fare.”

I grab the key card with a sigh and head for the elevators

“I can take the floor,” he offers quietly as we enter the metal box.

I ignore that. “Let’s just get through tonight.”

The hotel room clicks shut behind us with a soft thud.

Clark’s already pulled off his shoes and is sorting through his suitcase with that usual quiet focus, as if he’s afraid to disturb the air itself. I set my carry-on by the dresser and unzip it, rummaging for my pajamas.

And then I remember.

I didn’t pack pants.

Nor sweats or shorts. Just a long T-shirt and underwear — the assumption being I’d have the room to myself. I sigh, holding the shirt in my hands like it might magically grow fabric. It doesn’t.

“Clark,” I sigh. He looks up at me in response “I didn’t bring any pants or shorts or any bottoms to sleep in.” I admit. His eyebrows raise slightly and I feel myself blush. “I usually sleep in a long shirt and call it a night I was just thinking I’d have my own room, but I can see how this could make you uncomforta—”

“You can sleep how you’re used to.” He interrupts with a laugh. “I don’t mind, in fact if it’ll help...” He says and pulls his pants down. “I’ll join in solidarity.” I freeze and my eyes go down to the sizable bulge in his boxers. No wonder he’s always tripping.

“Great.” Is all that comes out of my dry mouth before I head into the bathroom, change into the oversized tee, and glance at myself in the mirror. The shirt falls about mid-thigh. It’s fine. Totally fine. We’re coworkers. Professionals. Adults. We can do this.

When I step out, Clark’s at the foot of the bed, spreading out a blanket on the floor. He’s changed his dress shirt for a black t-shirt.

“You’re not seriously sleeping down there,” I say, eyebrows raised.

He looks up, flustered. “Well, yeah. I figured—one bed. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Clark, we're sleeping in the same room with no pants on, we've moved past uncomfortable.” I assure. “Plus the bed’s huge. And unless you’re a sleep-kicker or a midnight screamer, I think we’ll survive.”

His gaze flicks down to my bare legs just for a second. Then it jerks back up like it burned him. He swallows, the tips of his ears going pink.

“I—yyeah. Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” He nods once, then gently folds the blanket back up and places it over the chair. I climb into bed first, flipping the sheets back and settling against the pillows. The mattress dips slightly when he gets in on the opposite side, as far from me as the physics of the bed will allow.

For a few long seconds, we both lie there staring at the ceiling.

“Sooooo,” I drag casually, turning on the TV. “You up for something dumb and distracting?”

“Always,” he says, relaxing just enough for his arm to graze mine under the covers.

We land on a cooking competition — one of those chaotic ones where the contestants scream and chop at the same time. I laugh at something stupid someone yells, and when I glance at Clark, I catch it. He’s not watching the show. He’s watching me. Or, more specifically… my legs.

The blanket slipped a little, and the way I’m curled on my side has the hem of my shirt pulled higher than it should be. His gaze is locked, warm, stunned. Like he forgot himself.

I smirk, feeling a sudden sense of bravery. “See something interesting?”

He flinches like I caught him stealing. “I—no. I mean—”

“Relax,” I say, nudging his arm with mine. “You’re not as sneaky as you think.”

Clark clears his throat, smiling sheepishly as he shifts onto his back. “I’m hard trying not to look.” I go still.

He doesn’t realize what he’s said right away. Not until the words echo back into the quiet between us.

“That came out wrong. I meant I’m trying hard not to look.” He hastily corrects.

“Awww,” I say quietly, “almost wish you would’ve meant it the first time.”

“You do?” He asks looking over at me. I nod innocently in response and scoot closer to him but keeping a modest distance. His eyes are dark behind his glasses, lashes low, chest rising just a little faster than before. The kind of look that makes my stomach tighten and my skin buzz like static under the sheets.

“Careful,” he says, voice soft. “If you say things like that, I might start thinking you want me to look.”

I tilt my head slightly. “Maybe I do.”

His throat bobs as he swallows. One hand’s flat against his stomach under the blanket. The other flexes slightly at his side, like he’s deciding whether or not to reach.

You’re—” he starts, then stops. Tries again. “You’re making it very hard to be the respectful guy right now.”

“I don’t need you to be a saint, Kent,” I murmur, inching closer until my leg brushes his. “Just honest.”

We’re so close now I can feel the heat radiating off his skin. My shirt has ridden up again this time I let it. His gaze flicks down, lingers, then lifts again with effort.

“I think about you more than I should,” he admits, voice hoarse. “And I can’t stop.”

I close the last few inches between us, my hand grazing his chest. He’s solid warm and trembling slightly under my touch.

“Then don’t stop.” I encourage. His lips meet mine before I can say anything else it’s hot, hungry, too much and not enough. He kisses me like he’s been waiting for permission. Like this moment’s been living in his head, and now that it’s real, he’s not wasting a second.

I moan against his mouth as his hand slips beneath my shirt, fingers grazing the bare skin of my waist.

He moves quickly and is now pressing me into the mattress, all heat and pressure, and for a second I forget how to breathe. This is not the Clark I’m used to. The one who nervously adjusts his glasses and stumbles through interviews.

This Clark kisses with purpose he moves with precision. Like he’s been thinking about this for a long, long time.

His hand slides under my shirt, dragging up my ribs, and the sound he makes when he feels I’m not wearing a bra makes me crave him.

“You were planning on driving me crazy huh,” he murmurs against my jaw. “You knew exactly what you were doing walking around in just this.”

He fists the hem of the shirt in one hand and yanks it up, slowly, until I sit up to let him pull it over my head. It hits the floor, forgotten.

I’m bare to him now. My chest rising and falling, nerves sparking, but his gaze is hungry, not hesitant. Not shy. He sits up and gets rid of his own shirt. The way his muscles move mesmerize me and also where the hell have these muscles been?

“I knew you were beautiful,” he says, voice low, “but this is unfair.” Before I can respond, he leans in, mouth closing around my nipple, tongue flicking, sucking just enough to pull a gasp from my lips. His hand grips my hip, holding me still as my legs shift beneath him.

“Clark—” I moan, not even sure what I’m asking for.

He pulls back to look at me. And smirks.

“Say my name again.” That tone it’s not a question.

“Clark,” I whisper, dazed.

He drags his mouth down my body, slow, open-mouthed kisses that leave heat in their wake. When he gets to my panties, he hooks his thumbs in the waistband and looks up at me.

“I’m going to take my time with you,” he says. “Okay?”

“Fuck yes.”

He pulls them down, eyes locked on mine the whole time. And then he spreads my thighs.No teasing now. He dips between them with deliberate focus, like he’s memorizing me with his mouth. Tongue deep, strong, controlled. It’s messy, it's wet and feels amazing. Perfect. Ruthless in the best way.

I feel his finger collecting my mess before he slips it inside of me. His tongue focuses on my clit circling it at the perfect pace. I gasp when he adds a second thick finger and I feel him curl them up slightly. My hips lift off the bed and his arm slings across my waist, pinning me down without effort.

“Don’t run from it,” he says, voice dark and quiet. “Take it.” His tongue speeds up and I feel a familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach. The orgasm rips through me too fast to brace for, and I cry out, hands tangled in his hair as he doesn’t let up. Not until I’m trembling and whimpering, pushing at his shoulders, but even then, he kisses back up my stomach like he owns every inch of me.

When his face meets mine again, his lips are slick, his eyes the darkest I’ve ever seen.

“Look at you,” he whispers, brushing hair from my face. “Already trembling and just from my tongue.”

I reach down between us, brushing over the hard length pressing against my thigh. He groans in response and stands to pull his boxers off. I moan at the size of it before he comes back, positioning himself between my legs. Our bare chests against each other.

“Condom?” He asks as he kisses me.

“I don’t have one,” I answer. “Wasn’t exactly planning on this,” I add between kisses. “Do you have one?” He hums against my lips before shaking his head.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks and I feel the tip of him against my folds. I moan at the feeling and weigh my options. The head of him nudges against me, thick and impossibly hard.

“Don’t stop.” I say. He smiles and leans in to kiss me again. He reaches in hand down and runs his tip against me slowly collecting every bit of my slick.

“You’re going to feel me,” he says, brushing his lips over mine. “Every inch.”

I nod, biting my lip. But nothing prepares me.

He pushes in slowly—deliberately—and I feel it. All of him. Stretching me open, inch by inch, and I can’t hold back the moan that breaks out.

“Shhh,” he soothes. “I’ve got you.”

Once he’s fully in, he stills. Letting me adjust. He kisses my temple, my cheek, my jaw. But when I roll my hips, asking for more?

That softness disappears.

His fingers find my wrists and he pins them above my head to the bed, and he starts to move. Deep. Controlled. Punishingly slow strokes that make me forget my own name. His body is like a wall above me, his breath hot in my ear as he fucks me like he owns the air I breathe.

“You’ve got no idea,” he groans, “how long I’ve wanted to do this. To have you like this. Open. Mine.” Every word lights me up. I feel him in parts of me I’ve never felt before. I feel his palm press into my lower abdomen, heightening the intensity of it all. “And you feel even better than I imagined.”

“Clark,” I moan as I feel every inch of him. “You’re too big,” I say through gritted teeth as he continues to thrust into me.

“You’re taking me so good sweetheart,” he praises as he nips at the neck. My mouth hangs open when I feel him pull all the way out.

“Get on your hands and knees.” He orders and I turn around. He reaches above me grabbing a pillow and positions it under my belly. I arch my back and feel his strong hands grope my ass roughly. He pushes his cock inside me again in a swift thrust making me grip the bed sheets. His hands move to my hips holding me so tight I can feel the bruises already. He moves my hair to one side and I feel his breath behind my ear giving me goosebumps.

“You feel so fucking good,” he growls. “So tight around me. I could stay inside you forever.”

I gasp when I feel one of his hands reach around me and he begins to rub circles against my sensitive heat.

“Do you like it when I touch you here?” He asks quietly before kissing my neck. I nod my head but that must not be good for him because I feel him grip my hair from the back of my head close to the scalp so it doesn’t hurt. The pressure surprisingly brings more pleasure. His other hand stops and I let out a pathetic whine. “Answer my question.” He says

“Yes.” I reply.

“Yes what?” He asks his grip on my hair tightening.

“Yes I like when you touch me.” I say turning my head to look at him. He gives me a sloppy kiss, his tongue dominating mine. His hips begin to rock against mine again. His mouth swallows my moans.

“How much do you like it?” He asks between kisses.

“So much.” I say out of breath. His other hand moves to circle my nub again and my legs involuntarily come together.

“You’re close aren’t you,” he asks but I can’t form a thought. “I can feel it, you’re tightening up, so greedy.”

“Clark—” he pulls out again, moving the pillow and flipping me over. He pushes my thighs wide open and puts himself back in me.

“I wanna watch your pretty little mouth say my name.” He says as he looks down at me. His hips slap against mine with an obscene smack. I roll my eyes back when he tilts his hips slightly hitting me at just the right spot.

“Say my name when you come,” he demands. “Let me hear it.” And I do. Louder than I mean to. Again and again, until he loses it too, his rhythm stutters, his grip tightens, and he buries himself deep with a groan that sounds like he’s breaking. I feel his hot release in me and that alone makes me wanna cum again.

He collapses on top of me, careful but breathless. We’re both panting. Sweating. Shaking.

And then he lifts his head, kisses me sweetly, and smiles showing off his dimples.

“Glad I forgot pants?” I ask, feeling dazed.

He chuckles shyly, rolling onto his side, pulling me with him.

“Please forget them any time.” He says with a cheesy grin. I could get used to this.

[3-aem]

thinking about my exit interview that was super informal but at one point i was like okay i will say something positive about the team and my ex manager was like okay

and then we both sat there in silence for a solid minute

[jinwoosbabyboo]

The School is Calling

You got a call about your kid(s) fighting at school ... this can't be good .... or is it? [Requested by: Anon]

Zayne

Principal: Your child got into a fight during lunch

MC: who started the fight?

Principal: That's not important the important thing is your daughter brutally beat up another child

Zayne: What was the fight about?

Principal: Another child took her fruit cup

MC: Is this the same kid who put slime in her hair two days ago?

Principal: Yes but-

Zayne: Is this the same kid who's been taking her notebooks for the last two weeks

Principal: well you see-

Zayne: This sounds like a case of bullying and it seems as though you and your staff have done little to discipline a student who has been bullying our daughter

Principal: I assure you we have a strict no bullying poli-

Zayne: It's not strict enough.

The principals lips snap shut.

Zayne: Now violence is not the answer, but this sounds like a case of self-defense you along with your staff need to handle the bullying problem you have in this school

Principal: ....

Zayne: Are we done here?

Principal: Yes we're done here sir sorry to bother you two

MC: Don't be sorry be better

Rafayel

Principal: Your children got into a fight during recess

Rafayel: Damn *turns to his kids* did you two win?

Your children rapidly nod with big smiles on their faces.

Rafayel: Hell yea! up top!

Principal: Sir this is not a good thing

Rafayel: Did they start it?

Principal: Well no

Rafayel: So they finished it?

Principal: Sir

Rafayel: Good talk ... tell your students to leave my kids alone now if we're done here im taking them to get ice cream

Rafayel walks outside with the twins in tow and finds you leaning against the hood of the car.

MC: So?

Rafayel: They didn't start it they finished it and they won

MC: That's what I like to hear ... Ice cream?

Rafayel & the twins: ICE CREAM !

Xavier

Principal: Your child got into a fight during P.E.

MC: Who started it?

Principal: That's not important here

Xavier: Answer the question.

Principal: ........The other kid shoved your child into the wall

Xavier: Which explains the bruise on his elbow

Principal: Your child then proceeded to punch the other kid in the mouth knocking his tooth out

Xavier: Sounds like self defense

Principal: Your son busted that kids lip sir

MC: Maybe that kid should've kept his hands off our son

Principal: We can't have your son fighting it goes against everything we stand for

Xavier: My son has told you and your staff multiple times this kid was being mean to him and you've done nothing

Principal: We've done everything we can

Xavier: No you haven't you let it slide until he stood up for himself and showed that kid that his actions have consequences we're done here

Sylus

MC: I just got a call from the school, but I won't be able to make it up there in time Sylus: I'll go I'm not busy MC: Okay let me know how it goes

Principal: Im sorry to inform you that we're going to have to suspend your daughter

Sylus: Why.

Principal: She tied up a student and stuffed him in a locker

Sylus: Why.

Principal:*mumbling* He .... He ripped one of her braids out

Sylus: Speak up.

Principal: Another student pulled her hair and removed a braid by accident

Sylus: If I do recall my daughter has reported this kid pulling her hair multiple times

Principal: Yes but we can't have her fighting

Sylus: She didn't fight .... she overpowered him and showed their difference in strength

Principal: but-

Sylus: You're lucky she doesn't like picking on the weak ... don't bother me or her mother with these trivial matters again ... lets go little dove

MC: How did it go? Sylus: Just a friendly chat nothing serious MC: What did she do? Sylus: Made me proud

[ashwhowrites]

Can you do a fic with Eddie x reader and basically hellfire doesn’t know that Eddie has a gf. So when reader stops by the drama room to give him something that he left at her house they’re all surprised and bombard Eddie with questions. They just can’t believe he got a gf and didn’t tell them and he’s all like yea we’ve been dating for months or years and just brags about being with reader

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Secret girlfriend

Eddie liked to keep his life as private as he could. Not that he was embarrassed, but he liked being a mystery to people. He was close with the Hellfire boys, but still didn't let them know everything in his life.

His girlfriend, Y/N, has been in his life for two years. She was the highlight in his life and he liked to keep him all to himself. Wayne loved her, and that's the only other person Eddie would share her with. They started dating her junior year and now she graduated and went to college.

She stayed in Hawkins for him to graduate, which meant everything to him. He knew it was early but he was already thinking of rings where they'd move to, and how big their house would be. He already wanted her until the day he died.

Eddie was snapped out of his thoughts as Dustin groaned at his dice roll.

"Damn another miss"

Eddie laughed at Dustin's displeasure, continuing with the campaign. Then there was a knock on the door, and everyone's heads snapped towards it.

"Who's that?" Mike asked

"Whoever it is shall be punished!" Gareth declared as he punched the air. The boys cheered with him, pounding the table as they yelled "punished" over and over.

Eddie walked towards the door with a hard expression as he swung it open. His tongue was ready to lash out but all his words died on his tongue when she stood in front of him.

"Hey, baby!" She squealed, her arms thrown around her boyfriend. Eddie smiled and hugged her back, sneaking a small kiss. She looked gorgeous in her simple jeans and his band T-shirt, with marks on her neck from the night before.

"There's my girl," Eddie said as his eyes checked her out.

"Who is it?" Dustin called after him, Eddie's body blocking the visitor.

"Boys, this is my sexy girlfriend, Y/N. Behave yourselves." He instructed, stepping aside. The boys stared as the girl walked through, shock written in their eyes.

"Hi, I've heard a lot about you," Y/N said politely as she walked in with a smile. Eddie stood behind her, reaching forward to wrap his arm around her.

"But-but we heard nothing about you. What is going on?" Dustin asked as he stood up. He walked over to the couple and held out his hand. "I'm Dustin, practically Eddie's best friend."

Y/N smiled and shook the small boy's hand.

"That's my bad. I keep her all to myself." Eddie said, snuggling his face into her neck. She laughed as his nose moved back and forth, making it tickle.

"How long have you been together?" Mike asked. He was also shocked that Eddie kept his girlfriend a secret.

"Two years," Eddie shrugged, planting a wet kiss on her cheek as he let her go. He put his hand on Dustin's head and turned him around. He walked back to the table, everyone still staring at her.

"TWO YEARS?" Gareth screamed, "I've known you since middle school, and you don't tell me you have a serious relationship?"

"Like I said, I like her all to myself. Now dear, how can I help you?" Eddie asked with a smirk. He sat at the head of the table and moved his arms behind his head.

She walked over and pulled a notebook out of her bag. "Figured you'd need this."

Eddie gasped as she passed over his notebook. "I've been looking everywhere for this." He was quick to grab the book and open it up. All his campaign ideas were written in his sloppy handwriting.

"Yeah I found it under my bed this morning, and I have no clue how you managed that," she laughed.

"I can think of a few ways," Gareth muttered. His comment was met with a smack on the back of the head from Eddie. The heaviness of Eddie's rings added more pain to his skull.

"I said behave," Eddie warned, but he kept his eyes on his girl.

"Thank you, baby," Eddie said as he stood up. He pulled her into a slow and teasing kiss. She whined when he pulled away, needing more.

"I'll see you tonight," she said against his lips, stealing one more kiss before she turned to leave.

"I love you," Eddie called out after her. She looked over her shoulder as she opened the door.

"I love you too," she smiled.

As the door behind her closed, she could hear all the boys bombing Eddie with questions all at once.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunsonmain @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

[adoregojo]

secret admirer.

hihihihihihihihi, i cannot believe i actually slept for two days in a row? wth? and also that i never did this kind of posts? im such a lazy bum mb yall, I promise I'll write a real fic soon. summary: bllk characters as your secret admirers: isagi, bachira, chigiri, reo. how they fell, what do they do, how did they confess.

isagi.y

him. just him.

you once held his shirt collar to stop him from planting flatly on the floor.

and when you walked away, you walked with his heart in your palms.

yea, just like that

but honestly, isagi himself didn't knew he was such a big sap inside

and the moment he realised you two shared a few classes was the second he almost kneeled and thanked the sky itself for this.

an absolute swoon from looking at your side profile.

he once was long gone within the abyss of daydreaming about you, he genuinely just couldn't look away.

then got called out by the teacher for being too distracted.

definitely prayed that you didn't see that.

writes your name unintentionally in his notebook.

gets so embarrassed about it later and rips the paper.

still dose it again the next day and almost ripped the whole book apart form cringing at himself.

he once was musing over you too much to the point that your name slipped out unwittingly on the dinner table.

his parents couldn't stop teasing him about it, wondering when they would see you walking down their house door.

leaves love notes in your locker almost everyday.

it's something short and simple like: "you look pretty today."

then when he goes home he'll realize how dumb that was because you literally look the prettiest everyday.

dumb, dumby.

takes time to make the first move though.

he just feels like you're way, farther away from his reach.

it's okay, he still considers himself lucky to be one of those who got admire you.

he just hoped you saw him behind all of them, even if it was a glance.

chigiri.h

omgg pretty boyyy

despite chigiri being a confident and self-reliant, the trigger words of his old injury was like a pulling a pin of a grenade to his still-raw sorrowness. something that'll always haunt him.

and what dose he dare to say when they were nothing but truthful? like a salt to his wounds, he tends to just take it and suck it up, or at least try to ignore it for his sake.

but everything flipped when you stood up for him.

from that moment on. chigiri knew that he was far a goner.

out of everyone here he's definitely the most romantic one.

reads all your favourite books and analysis it.

probably named a cat after you.

like isagi he writes love letters for you.

just a little too poetic..

it it's short then it's something like: "loving you is like breathing." or "i hope your days are filled with the same joy you give me with your existence only."

but mostly is: "my definition of love, i see the true meaning of living behind your hue of life. you shall lighten my soul with your existence alone, i was born to see you shin each day, witnessing you is a blessing from heaven itself. the day that i stop seeing you as the owner of the stars is the day my body shall vanish, yet my soul will know it way back to you. from your only and one your admirer."

what a lovesick clown.

he might be a smooth talker on the outside, but trust me the butterflies of sentimental keeps on swirling in his stomach on the sight of you.

told his mother and sister about you.

it was his biggest regrets.

because the next day his sister shouted your name in a demand for you to spend the night for the 'meeting of the future in law'.

he had to physically drag her back to the car, freaking embarrassing.

couldn't meet your eyes for a while after that.

wants to hold your hand.

like, really badly.

it's just that feeling your skin against his cold, pristine hands must've feel like the loveliest, cosiest thing.

the thoughts alone are making him go crazy.

he confessed first, just couldn't help himself.

he just hoped if you would go to the end of the world alongside with him.

bachira.m

the sunshine boy himself.

the definition of fell first AND fell harder.

it all started when the class was ordered to work as duo for a project, something he always despised.

you may say that because bachira was definitely not having the word 'smart' in his book, you'd be right actually.

but mainly since no one really wanted to group up with him.

it was embarrassing, to just sit there and wait to be picked was putting him under the lights that pointed him out as the most pitiful creature in the room.

then you pocked him on the shoulder, and asked him if he wanted to be your partner.

and when he didn't see the sarcasm reeking from you, he knew he tripped hard, and couldn't find it anywhere in his feet to back him up.

it was strange, bachira never had a company, let alone a crush.

but the signs were there, and were painfully vulnerable.

painted you in art class multiple times; you with a smile, you reading a book, you sniffing a sunflower.

maybe also you and him... holding hands or hugging...

stares at your face a way, way too long.

he tells himself it's to crave your features better and detailed.

even he doesn't believe that however.

he draws your eyes a lot.

his second favourite colour is your eyes hue.

he was never the best at writing romantic poems, and his hand writing is just........

so he insisted gets you a gift!

which is a rock.

yes you heard me, rock.

he would even paint a little face with a smile on it and leave it on your desk by the end of the day.

almost went bald from joy when you had it hanging as a small march on your bag.

and when you had a bad day, that goes unnoticed by him.

so imagine your surprise when you would find two pairs of rocks, one kissing the other who had a sad expression on it face.

that somehow that foster a blissful smile on your face. like that little action extinct any remains of the past negative you carried.

and bachira was more than happy to be the reason for your happiness.

definitely rambles about you to his mom.

and his monster.

he once ha a dream about you two smooching.

cried when he woke up because he wanted it to be real more than anything.

you two confessed first, at the same time.

and boy was he dancing on cloud nine at it.

he almost smooch you that moment and then.

reo.m

it's mister perfect everyone, cheer.

you fell first, he fell harder.

no, literally. you fell. tripped flat on the floor.

and somehow, that made the reo mikage heart move.

?????????

love at first (fall??) sight.

he definitely leaves a trail of gifts for you everywhere.

your chair, desk, locker, bag.

he switches between chocolate and flowers to letters and perfumes, necklaces, etc..

you say how he picked them?

easy, see something that reminds him of you, he buys.

and it's pretty foolish since he sees you in almost everything.

reo is convinced that you're within everything that shins beautifully.

he actually paid the teachers to let him be in the same classroom as you.

paid even more to get a seat next to you.

rip to whoever was sitting next to you.

he once heard that a guy was bothering you.

the next day the guy was the talking of school because he suddenly moved out of town due to his dad losing his job.

hm, must be karma then.

has a shrine of you.

but you didn't hear that from me.

talks about you none stop to nagi and ba-ya.

genuinely sobbed when he imagined you with someone else.

has a flight under your name.

made a makeshift doll of you so he can practice his confessions on.

had a mental breakdown of the idea of you rejecting him.

reo can the most horrible, miserable day to a human kind to live.

then he sees you smiling

BOOM

he's all happy and smiling again, also a little giddy.

you once greeted him good morning, the next day he was planing what ring would suit you the most.

had two planes to write on the sky: 'will you go out with me?' and your name next to it in a shade of a heart.

now, you definitely cannot reject that. (Please don't)

have a nice day everyone.

[kirsty-bytes]

Sero Hanta had always felt weird about the way he looks. His elbows specifically.

They weren’t shameful—just impractical. He had never worn a long sleeve shirt in his life, not without some type of complication. It was a design flaw, something Mother Nature had thrown in last minute for shits and giggles.

Unfortunately he was the shits and giggles.

As a kid with everyone around you having ‘hero-like’ quirks, it’d definitely bruise his confidence a tad bit…

…yet he held no adolescent fixation on why his body was part stationary. He didn’t stare at the mirror or pray to wake up with fire shooting from his fingertips. He had tape. He was Cellophane—a hero in the UA hero course—surrounded by countless other questionable yet practical quirks, that have shown efficiency.

It felt normal now.

Almost—until you bound through his life.

You appeared out of thin air, like a hallucination. You were barefoot or rather lacked any shoes in the hallway—only dusted striped socks on the pads of your feet. Sat cross-legged on the linoleum just by the lockers, scattered papers and binders of equations surrounded your body tragically, looking as if someone had set off an explosion in your locker.

Your blazer was falling off one shoulder, revealing a constellation of various stains on the school shirt. Were you that careless with your uniform? At a prestigious school like this? If the uniform looked rough for wear, your appearance? Even worse. You reddish bared eyes that were half-lidded to the point where you were either on the brink of sleep—or orbiting in a different realm.

“Hi, you’ve got tape?”

Sero blinked. “What?”

“You’ve got tape or not?” You repeated, like it was an obvious question. Dramatically slow, like a sloth, you held up the flopping blue notebook in your hand, more pages spilling from the cover. “The stitches gave up.”

His eyes went between your eyes and the mangled mess of paper. Then he pointed to the mass bump on both his elbows.

“Oh—you are tape. My bad, I’m kinda out of it right now.”

“Yea I can tell. Who gets high at school? That’s like so—“

With rolled eyeballs, you raise your book as high as your tingling limps could allow you, like a weak offering to him, “Please save it, sellotape guy.”

Sero stared at you for a second. Then—against his better judgment—he crouched and pulled some tape from his elbow. It clicked and whirred out like usual, and you made a fascinated “oh” sound like you were watching fireworks.

“Bro, that’s so fucking sick,” you said. “I’d like do all the things I’ve wanted if I had carry-on tape with me.”

He bit back a grin. “Like what?”

“I’d eat it. Just to see if it tastes like normal tape or like human fluid or something like that. And I’d always fix all my books. Weirdly enough mine are always falling apart and—it’s so cool! You’re like a—a who’s that dude again?” You wonder aloud.

“Eat it? You’re weird,” He chuckled at your ramblings. Cute in a Midoriya way.

“Oh! Bondage man! That yaoi where the CEO ties up his assistant with—“ He stuck his palms to your still moving mouth, a faint blush blooming on his cheeks as everyone else around glared at you disapprovingly. How long had it been since you two chatted here—with you still shoeless and on the floor.

“Okay, let’s get you some water and shoes.”

“Thank you. You’re like my new favourite office supply now.”

That was the first time Sero met you and for once? Maybe his elbows really weren’t that weird—he got to be in this moment with you right now—three months later, lazily tangled in the hammock strung up in his dorm, both of you high as hell, sloppily making out with each other.

The hammock swayed gently, creaking every so often, the room hazy with leftover smoke from the blunt you both forgot to finish off. Some song droned on in the background, barely audible under the sound of muffled giggles and the occasional rustle of fabric.

Sero’s hands moved absently, trailing over the hem of your shirt, then up your spine to your hips—fingertips brushing something metal.

He paused. “Are those… dermals?”

You blinked up at him, eyes glassy. “Oh. Yeah. Forgot to mention. Surprise.”

He laughed. “At this rate, keep you away from all magnets or you’re a goner.” You hummed at his words while he proceeds to dip his face in the crook of your neck, murmuring against your skin.

“Hey…remember that weird sex comic thing you mentioned the day we met?”

You blinked. “No, I was zooted.”

“Well,” he said, “I did some research on Bondageman.”

You froze. Then wheezed. “You what?”

“I needed context! I’m a visual learner!”

“Oh my god—” You felt like melting into the floor, filled with embarrassment.

He grinned, that familiar, mischievous curl of his lips. “Anyway. I wanna try what he does to the assistant.”

You squinted. “The leg thing?”

“Yes,” he confirmed solemnly.

You stared at him for a moment. Thought about his tape elbows. Thought about how, realistically, he could probably rig some kind of suspension system using nothing but his quirk and determination.

Then you grinned, eyes sparkling. “You know what? Hell yeah. Let’s fucking go,”

And as he leaned in again, kissing you like he’d never be guaranteed this high school love at all—he thought—yeah. Having industrial-strength tape for elbows might be weird, but it sure as hell had its perks.

This? This was one of them.

You, his girl.

[kayhi808]

"Papa, I don't fink I want to do camping. I don't wikes it." Wiping her face on her sleeve after her little meltdown. Squeezing Bucky's face between her hands, "I don't wikes, bugs & dirts. And I weally don't wikes my butts out." She gives Bucky a worried look, "No be mads, ok?"

"It's ok, Abby-baby. We don't have to camp, we can go back to the palace."

"Yes, pwease. I wikes the palace so much."

"I think your Mama likes the palace better too."

Turning around to face you, "Mama! Us wikes the palace, wight? No like camping."

You laugh at your baby in Bucky's arms, "Yes, absolutely. The palace is very nice.

Turning back at Bucky, "Yea, me and Mama wikes the palace better."

******

Bucky leads you on a trail around the lake, to a stretch of land, housing herds of goats. Abby is already wary of goats from her visit to the petting zoo Mr Stark had set up at the Compound. The baby goats were too jumpy for her liking.

Bucky heads in the direction of herders in the distance. They were the men he used to work with. He introduces you and Abby. They are excited to meet Little Wolf. Happy to know the White Wolf found blessings after leaving Wakanda.

Bucky hands Abby off to you, as he goes out to help the men round up the goats. You sit with Abby in the shade. You spent some time watching Bucky work but you also brought out Abby's notebook and crayons so she can draw letters for the people back home.

So caught up in your crafts, you didn't realize how close the herd got. "Ma...Mama??" You look up and see all the goats surrounding you. You stand up, looking for Bucky. "Mama?!" You look down at a frightened Abby. She's scared of the goats. You quickly pick her up, making your way to Bucky. You aren't necessarily afraid of goats but you are starting to feel overwhelmed. Dodging through the herd, making your way to Bucky, you feel a hard jerk to your sweater. The hem of your cardigan is caught in the mouth of a nearby goat. You try to pull away, but end up losing this tug 'o war battle. Abby starts to cry.

"It's ok, baby. He just thinks my sweater is a snack," you say calmly as you shuck your arms out of the sleeves, leaving your sweater with the goat. You continue to make your way towards Bucky. As you continue your brisk walk, Abby quietly cries.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a goat charging you. It head butts you in your thigh, which brings you to your knees. Fuck that hurt! You hold on tighter to Abby, not wanting to drop her. You make sure Abby is stable on her feet before letting her go. "Oh no!! Mama!" Abby is sobbing uncontrollably by now.

"Run to Papa, baby. He's right over there." Standing, you point him out to her. Trying to balance with most of your weight on the other leg.

Not wanting or too scared to leave your side, "Nooooo, Mama!! I helps!"

"Baby, get your Papa. He can help." The goat headbutts you again in the same spot. You can't help but cry out and fall, which terrifies Abby. She lets out a blood curdling scream. Some goats faint and fall over. You pick up a rock & swing. Hitting the goat.

"Go to Papa, baby."

Bucky heard Abby scream and he's already sprinting his way to you both. "Abigail!!"

"Papa!!" She darts to Bucky, her chubby legs running as fast as they can. Arms pumping. She's screaming all the way there. A couple more goats fall over. Bucky scoops her up without breaking stride on his way to you. After hitting the goat, it decided to leave you alone.

As soon as Bucky puts Abby down, she runs over to hold your hand.

"What happened? Are you hurt?" His hands roam your body checking for damage. His hands go over your thigh and you gasp, turning away from Abby so she can't see your tears.

"Stupid goat ate my sweater. And that asshole over there head butted me twice!"

"You asshole!" Abby screams at the goat trying to pelt him with rocks and shaking her fist at it.

Bucky's shocked face made you laugh.

"Abigail, don't say that word. Mama shouldn't have said that either." You reach up to wipe the tears from Abby's cheeks.

"I hates them!"

"I'm not a fan of them either."

Between hiccups, Abby pounds her fist into her palm, "I'ma ask Ms Okoye to borrow her winosaurgus. They can smash the goats!"

"Doll, can you remove your pants? I want to see your thigh."

"Papa!! Mama can not has her butts out!" She stands between you and Bucky with her hands on her hips.

"I need to see how badly she's hurt, Abby baby."

You try to shift around, but the pain is too great. You shake your head at Bucky. He kisses your temple, "Ok, Doll. It's ok." He takes out a knife and starts cutting away at your pant leg to reveal a huge red and purple swollen welt...as big as a goats head. He whispers "Fuck." Abby sees it and she starts crying so hard you pull her into your arms.

"Abigail? Mama will be fine, ok? I promise. I'm going to get the Jeep and we'll take her to Princess Shuri and she'll help Mama."

"No leaves us!! Pwease."

"Hey, I'll be right back, honey. We need to get Mama back to the palace and I need you to stay with Mama and hold her hand. You think you can do that for me?"

Abby nods and Bucky hugs her, "Good girl. You're so brave for Mama."

Abby wipes her tears and nods, "I bwaves."

*******

Bucky gets you to Shuri's lab and she nonchalantly assures you that she can make you completely healed by morning.

Abigail was not happy that she couldn't stay with you and had to leave with Bucky. She had a little meltdown. Abby was so exhausted once Bucky got her back to your rooms. Abby asked if Bucky could sleep with her and he said yes. Poor kid had such a rough day. Bucky helped her with her bath and when they got back to the bedroom, Alpine was sitting in the middle of the bed.

"Junk cat. Get off my bed." Of course Alpine didn't listen and Abby was too tired to fight.

How Bucky found them after his shower. 😊🥰

@waywardhunter95 @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unax @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @buckitostan @littleredwolf @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @cjand10 @pancake-05 @ozwriterchick @crazyunsexycool @baw1066 @nommingonfood @jvanilly @idkyiamherebutiam

[icallhimjoey]

please bestie i want some soft love that's so second nature joe doesnt even have his attention with you whilst he gives it, please can you write something like that?

im not allowed to write right now because work and stress and boundaries and mental health etc etc so 🥰fuck you🥰 for this Wordcount: 1.8K

---

Cotton Soft Touches Gentle Voices Smooth

“What are you doing?”

You barely even heard Joe ask the question from across the room. You were so buried in whatever was happening on TV, focus completely zoomed in, mind somewhere else entirely. It took Joe another try for you to register the question directed at you.

“Hey. What are you doing?”

“Hmm?” you turned your head to Joe before your eyes followed and for a moment, you just slowly blinked at him. Something about his face combined with the fact that it really took you a minute to find yourself back in the room made you smile. You were so cosy.

“Watching TV.” you answered innocently, because you were, eyes back on the screen already.

You were warmly nestled into the sofa, curled up, knees pulled in, all comfortable in your white ribbed cotton pyjamas. The throwpillows and blankets on the sofa created the perfect nest for you to happily curl up into.

Snug.

Soft ambient light from several lamps placed in strategic corners lit up the room just enough. If you stood and opened the curtains a bit more, you could still catch the faint and fading oranges of the sunset.

You were shower fresh, limbs covered by white clean cotton, nose still a little cold from the difference in temperature after getting out of the hot stream, and wet hair cool where it touched your skin.

But you felt so warm.

So fucking cosy.

When you’d walked back into the living room post shower, skin glossy and wet hair brushed back, Joe had installed himself at the dinner table with his laptop and a notebook.

He’d cleared away the mess from dinner and had turned his spot into a desk.

“Just need to do these e-mails,” he said after you’d let your arms curl around him from behind, arms that he grabbed hold of for a second, and you kissed the top of his head.

“Will only be a minute.”

You’d left him to it then, not minding that Joe had some work to do, just happy that he was in the same room instead of hidden away in what he called the office and you called the guest bedroom.

The ‘only a minute’ easily turned into an hour plus. Joe kept busy on both his computer and his phone, and would sometimes scribble some things down onto paper. There was a phone call or two, just quick “Sorry to call so late, but have you seen the...” and, “Hey, yea, I'm just reading it now, can I call you back in a minute?” type things.

Joe became background noise to you the second you snuggled up, and similarly the low sounds coming from the TV were just a nice reminder that Joe wasn’t alone.

But then, halfway through typing a response to an e-mail, something in Joe’s peripheral vision caught his attention.

Something moving slowly.

A little rhythmically.

When he peeked over his laptop screen and saw his girlfriend looking just about the most comfortable she’d ever looked, he didn’t even think you were aware that you were doing it.

In your layers of soft cream fabrics, head slumped to the side, Joe saw how you let your fingers softly skim over the area below your ear. They danced in circles and lines by your jaw, onto your cheek just a little before trailing back to your neck and—

That was what Joe always did.

That’s where Joe let his fingers draw shapes.

He would brush some hair from your face and would then let his fingertips linger, and it always made you hum. Made you relax. Gave you tingles that made your hearing go funny for a second.

Joe watched you lazily self soothe, and after a moment he decided that he’d actually done enough work. He could finish this e-mail tomorrow.

“What are you doing?”

“Hmm? Watching TV.”

Your eyes were back on the screen before Joe could’ve even said anything about how you were touching yourself.

It was nothing sexual - not really. Not what he was witnessing right now anyway. He imagined it just felt nice.

He closed his laptop and got up from his seat, and without looking away from the TV, you moved to make space for Joe next to you, knowing he’d make his way over to press himself into your side.

Joe smiled as you moved blankets aside but kept that one hand near your ear, index finger mapping out your hairline towards the nape of your neck and back.

Instead of sitting down though, Joe pushed a knee into the sofa right next to your thigh and placed his fingers right were yours were, pushing them aside.

“I do this,” Joe said as he hovered over you, and you grinned as you let your head fall to the side more. “This is my job.”

Joe tickled his fingers along your soft skin, fresh and clean from the shower, and it only took a few seconds for you to sigh into his touch.

It was nicer when Joe did it.

“S’nice?” Joe murmured, still with just one knee on the sofa, and you hummed, eyes closed, nodding.

“Is nicer when you do it.”

“Yea?”

Joe leant forward to press a kiss to your cheek, getting you just under your eye, and then he moved to sit down next to you.

After a shuffle of throws, pillows, and limbs, you found yourself under Joe’s arm, curled up into his side.

You were comfortable before, but this would always be infinitely better.

“Hmm, you smell nice.” Joe commented after taking a moment to press his nose into your still damp hair.

“Yea? What do I smell like? Shampoo?” you whispered, voice not wanting to be any louder.

Joe easily bit, taking the invitation to get another real good whiff of you, his whole face now pressing into the crook of your neck.

You relished the attention, feeling fuzzy on the inside, heat blooming in your chest.

“Yea, sort of lemony… all fresh and clean.”

You blushed and were unable to hide your smile as you settled together for some TV watching, warm bodies pressed together, always fitting just right somehow.

Joe’s arm rested on the back of the sofa and bent around your head just right for his fingers to play. To touch the skin around your ear like you’d been doing before. To lightly trail and leave goosebumps down your whole body.

You could easily fall asleep like this, legs intertwined, head on his chest.

You lazily watched TV in silence for a while and if Joe was going to keep up the barely there shapes drawn down your neck you knew you actually would fall asleep.

It was becoming difficult to keep your eyes open, every blink a comfortable invitation to just keep them closed, but then the soft buzzing of Joe’s phone pulled you both from your haze.

Joe had your earlobe in between his fingers when he answered, and for a moment you were fully expecting him to get up. Move to where his laptop lay shut to open it once more to maybe finish something he hadn’t yet.

But when you tried to sit up a little for Joe to slip out of this cocoon you’d created, you felt his arm tense. He wasn’t letting go of the soft skin of your ear and to make sure you stayed put, he bent a leg to keep yours in place.

“It’s past ten, mate,” Joe answered and although you didn’t know who was calling him, just from his tone of voice you knew it wasn’t work related.

Joe gently rubbed your earlobe between his fingers and it felt so nice, it turned the world blurry as you unfocused your eyes.

When you relaxed back into him, sinking into the line of his body, Joe tilted his head down to look at you, barely catching your little smile but happy to see you were still enticed by whatever was happening on TV.

You weren’t though.

Not really.

Because as Joe spoke, he let his fingers continue what they’d been doing and if he thought you were able to try to follow his conversation as well as what you were watching whilst he made you melt with his touch, he was wrong.

You were bad at multitasking on a good day, and you knew Joe was too. The fact that he was somehow able to keep you lax and floating whilst simultaneously being mentally present for this phone call was impressive.

Joe laughed through casual conversation with a friend who had some questions about future plans they’d made. Their chat quickly turned into a hey-now-that-I’ve-got-you-on-the-phone catch up.

The low vibrations from his smooth voice were nice. You felt them where your face rested on his chest and relished in the tender love you were receiving that felt like a second nature sort of thing.

“No, I’m just at home. Watching TV.”

Not being mentioned suddenly made Joes fingers feel a little scandalous. Like the person on the phone wasn’t allowed to know you were there and how he was making you feel right now.

It got a little worse when you felt how Joe let his fingers trail down your neck to disappear into your pyjama top where they slowly caressed over your collarbone.

Your voice let a little noise escape when his hand snuck back up again, finding its way into your hair, and Joe chuckled lowly.

You let yourself balance on the borders of consciousness, half asleep with thoughts so far removed from where you were, yet half laser focused on Joe’s fingers and where they tickled your skin.

Unsure of when you’d drifted off, or when Joe had finished his phone call, the next thing you registered was a soft and low far away, “Have I done a plait?” that pulled you back into the room a little more.

With your eyes still closed you reached a heavy hand up to feel what was essentially just a twirled strand of hair, not a plait at all.

You couldn’t hide the little smile that spread at how adorable you thought it was that Joe’d just been playing with your hair and thought he’d actually done something.

He hadn’t.

He just made you feel loved, which was actually far better than a plait.

“Mhm,” you hummed approvingly, snuggling up into Joe more, understanding that it was likely much smarter to just get up and find your way into bed, but you’d quite literally never been more comfortable before.

“I’ve done a plait.” Joe whispered, gleefully proud of himself and making sure that you knew, that you’d heard him, give him some praise.

“Well done.” You lied, because he’d not done a plait, but that was okay.

You weren’t going to shoot yourself in the foot, because you were about to sink back into sleep and there was just one thing that’d make you feel even more comfortable.

That would send you right back off into sleep.

 “Do another.”

---

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add yourself

[baocean]

piss off your parents

chapter twenty three - somethin’ stupid

at first, when you thought he wanted to drive you somewhere. you hesitated. but once you looked, actually looked, you realized the twinkie was the date.

the side door creaked open, revealing the blankets and pillows scattered across the floor in that messy, endearing way only jj could manage. warm fairy lights looped lazily through the ceiling. a bowl of popcorn sat between a pile of candy bags, like he’d cleaned out an entire gas station just for you.

“what is this?” you asked, taking a few steps closer to get a better view.

you looked at him, and couldn’t help but let the butterflies and warmth rise to your face, breaking out in a smile.

“welcome to the twinkie cinema, where you can watch any movie you want as long as it isn’t the notebook.” jj grins, then waves his arm to usher you inside, throwing himself in and closing the door behind you.

you remembered that time he told you sarah made all their friends sit down and watch the notebook. jj said he’d been traumatized from it, couldn’t stop crying for an hour.

“do you like it?” he asked. he met your eyes for a second, before turning behind him and grabbing a bag of sour patch kids, tearing the bag open.

“love it.” you couldn’t even try to hide the swoon, you were pretty sure it was painted all over your face.

you'd only been watching to all the boys i've loved before for maybe, maybe twenty minutes when jj cut in.

"we should take tips from this, you know, to make our relationship more convincing."

you turned to him, shaking your head as you smiled. "you think so?"

"i mean, the back pocket thing is genius. and i can start writing you little notes. they might be really hard to read 'cause i got shit handwriting, but i'll do it."

"no, we need something that's just for us." you let out a breathy laugh, then shifted to get more comfortable. both of you picked up on the inch closer you were.

us. us. the word made jj's vision go blurry. he wanted to laugh at himself on how easily he got worked up when you did the simpliest things, of what had become of jj maybank, pogue, bad news, playboy.

your smile lingered, soft and easy. you glanced back at him, brows raised when you saw the look on his face. “you okay? you’re doing that thing again.”

jj blinked. “what thing?”

you shrugged, "that spaced out look, like you're not all here."

he let out a soft laugh. but it was shaky, strained "yea, something like that."

because what was he supposed to say? that the twinkle lights hitting your shoulders made him want to forget his name? that your laugh had lodged itself somewhere permanent in his chest? that every single thing you did, every look, every word, made him want things he had no business wanting?

fake. that’s what this was supposed to be. there was nothing fake about this. nothing fake about the way you were looking at him right now, letting all your thoughts cloud in your eyes.

“seriously,” you add, your hand coming to his bare arm and rub it reassuringly, “is something on your mind or—”

he couldnt do it anymore, couldn't hold back and tell himself not to do something stupid. partically, because he couldnt find a reason to not do what he was about to do, even if there were hundreds.

he leaned in, surrendering, letting it finally take over. no more thinking. no more hesitation. just you.

the first press to your lips was soft at first, testing.

you froze for a heartbeat, like the world had stilled. and then you kissed him back, one hand coming up to the side of his neck and braiding itself into his hair.

jj had kissed before, hell, jj had done much more than kiss before. but this one burned. it was warm and a little shaky, full of all the things you weren’t saying.

it was stupid. and risky. and he already knew it was going to wreck him, but he didn’t stop.

he kissed you like he’d been waiting all summer, all year, forever. he pulled you into him like it was life or death.

each moment was sweet and unhurried, filled with giggles that lingered between your lips. smiles that whispered against each other, thumbs brushing softly across cheeks and necks and collarbones.

when he finally pulled away from you, you sighed. "was that to make our story more convincing?"

he smiled, "nah, that was for me." then dipped back down to you.

liked by 500 people!

ynstjohn: date night!

sarahcam: sobbing

sarahcam: did u force him to watch the notebook? 😏

↳ jjmaybank: it’s banned in yn and i’s household

jjmaybank: i’m still not over u eating all the red sour patch kids 😐

↳ ynstjohn: but you like the blue ones!

↳ jjmaybank: i like u more

johnbroutledge: i’m stealing this idea

kelcee: 🥲🥲

cleoanderson: OMFG?

kiaracarrera: how did jj come up with this 💀

↳ jjmaybank: i’m a romantic now get used to it

her phone

his phone

masterlist | next chapter

taglist - @dr3amgrlll / @murdockcastleslut /  @jjmaybankmylovee / @smokahontas-113 /  @abslvrs13 / @enchantedstarfish / @reeseswirl / @lmaowhatt / @moonywhisp3rs / @dylsdaily /  @idli-dosa / @bloodofadoll / @cokewithcameron / @mariamadison6-blog / @rrosiitas / @always-reading / @sunflouer04 / @bambigirl10 / @mirellef2001 / @wasiasproject /  @bee-43 / @kissesandmartinis / @gublerstylesobrien1238 / @isinpfortvdmen / @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account / @mjwashere / @sideboobrry11 / @ameliacione13 / @wrtzia / @sanriobuny / @dramagodesss / @luvrclub / @yesshewrites1 / @ayy1234567 / @doesnt-care / @rainingcecilias 

[h0efor2ho]

Tutoring Temptation

Wonwoo X Reader

WC - 6.1k ( I got carried away )

TW - Nerd!Wonwoo, there is plot here with the porn, fingering, oral (f), unprotected sex (wrap it kids) cream pie, Wonwoo is the sweetest ever.

You'v always been a pretty good student. Able to keep up a 3.6 gpa while still having a decent social life. That was till you entered advanced calculus in your second year of college. You just couldn't grasp it no matter how hard you tried to study. Your grades dropping down to a 3.2 gpa. Your parents threatening to pull you out of school if you don't get your shit together. "Stop partying and start studying" your mother said. So you did. Spending night after night reading your text book, looking over your notes. Turning down invitations to house parties. Even going as far as to record your class and watch it back later. That's when you noticed that the guy who sits in the front of the room seems to always raise his hand and always gets the answer right. The idea formed in your head right away. You'd ask him to tutor you. You desperately needed the help and you figured he knew what he was doing.

The next day you make your way to class early, waiting and looking as students file into the lecture hall. It doesn't take long before you see his head of dark hair enter the room and make a b-line for the front seat. You quickly make your was down the steps past people talking till your feet hit the bottom floor and turn to carry you right up to his chair. He's bent over, back angled toward you as he pulls things out of his bag. His shirt neatly tucked into his brown pants, with a blazer over it. He doesn't notice you at all. "Uhm hey..."

Shit, you dont even know his name. You try and think back to the videos from class, of your professor calling him by name when you raised his hand. You're drawing a blank. He spins in his chair, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looks up at you. "Uhmm" you say again as you take in his features. He's not that bad looking for a nerd persay you think. "Wonwoo" he says snapping you out of your own thoughts. "huh" you ask.

"Wonwoo. My name. It's Wonwoo" he gives you a small smile. "Oh yea." you give him a small nervous laugh. "Sorry, I'm bad with names. I'm also really bad at calculus. Which is why I'm here bothering you. I was hoping maybe you could tutor me?" you finish rambling and give him what you hope is not a cringy smile. Wonwoo tilts his head slightly, considering your request. His dark eyes study you for a moment before he replies, "I see. And here I thought you might be asking me on a date," he quips, his voice low and unexpectedly smooth. You feel heat rise to your cheeks, caught off guard by his playful response. "Oh, uh, no... I mean, not that you're not... I just..." you stammer, mentally kicking yourself for suddenly losing your ability to form coherent sentences.

He chuckles softly, seemingly enjoying your flustered state. "Relax, I'm just teasing. I suppose I could help you out. When were you thinking?" Relief washes over you. "Really? That would be amazing. I'm free pretty much any evening. Whatever works best for you." He nods, pulling out a small planner from his bag. "How about tomorrow night at 7? We can meet at the library." "Perfect," you say, trying not to sound too eager. "Thank you so much, Wonwoo. I really appreciate it." He gives you another small smile. "No problem. Just make sure you bring your textbook and notes." You nod enthusiastically, about to respond when the professor walks in and calls the class to order. You quickly make your way back to your seat, heart beating a little faster than usual.

As you sit down, you can't help but glance down at Wonwoo. He's already focused on the professor, his pen poised over his notebook. You find yourself wondering what he's like outside of class. Is he always so composed? Does he ever let loose? The lecture begins, but your mind keeps drifting back to your upcoming tutoring session. You try to concentrate, scribbling down notes and formulas, but your thoughts are a jumble of calculus and curiosity about your new tutor. The rest of the day passes in a blur. You barely remember your other classes, your mind preoccupied with preparing for tomorrow night. That evening, you gather your calculus materials, making sure everything is organized and ready. You even jot down a list of specific questions and problem areas you want to address. That night, you toss and turn, your mind racing with thoughts of complex equations and Wonwoo's unexpected charm. When you finally drift off, your dreams are a bizarre mix of calculus symbols and dark, knowing eyes behind glasses.

The next day drags on endlessly. You constantly check the time, willing the hours to pass faster. When 6:30 finally rolls around, you grab your backpack and head to the library arriving early, claiming a quiet table in the back corner. As you spread out your materials, you can't help but feel a mix of excitement and anxiety. The sound of approaching footsteps makes you look up, and there's Wonwoo, looking as put-together as always in a navy sweater and dark jeans. "Right on time," you say, trying to sound casual. He smiles, sliding into the chair next to you. "I'm nothing if not punctual. So, where should we start?" For the next hour, Wonwoo patiently guides you through problem after problem. His explanations are clear and concise, and you find yourself grasping concepts that had previously made you struggle. As you work through a particularly tricky equation, you can't help but notice how close he's leaning in, his shoulder nearly touching yours as he points out a crucial step. You catch a whiff of his cologne – a subtle, woodsy scent that's surprisingly appealing.

"See? It's all about breaking it down into smaller parts," he explains, his voice low and close to your ear. You nod, trying to focus on the numbers and not on the warmth radiating from his body. As the session progresses, you find yourself relaxing, even joking with Wonwoo about some of the more absurd word problems in your textbook. His dry sense of humor surprises and delights you, and you catch yourself laughing more than you have in weeks "You know," he says, leaning back in his chair, "you're not half bad at this when you actually focus." You feel a flutter of pride at his words. "Thanks," you say, smiling. "I guess I just needed the right teacher." Wonwoo's eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you think you can see a spark of something behind his gaze. He clears his throat and glances at his watch. "We've been at this for almost two hours. Do you want to take a break?"

You nod, suddenly aware of how stiff your muscles feel from sitting hunched over your textbook. "Yeah, that sounds good.” Wonwoo smiles “Maybe we could grab a coffee? I know just the place," He says, standing up and stretching. You try not to stare as his sweater rides up slightly, revealing a sliver of skin above his waistband. You follow him out of the library and across campus to a small, cozy coffee shop tucked away in a corner you've never noticed before. As you step inside, the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans envelops you. The shop is dimly lit, with mismatched vintage furniture and local artwork adorning the walls. It's intimate and charming, nothing like the bustling campus coffee chains you usually frequent.

"This place is amazing," you say, taking it all in. "How have I never been here before?" Wonwoo smiles, a hint of pride in his eyes. "It's a bit of a hidden gem. I like to come here when I need to escape the chaos of campus life." You follow him to the counter, where a barista with long blonde hair greets Wonwoo by name. "The usual?" she asks, already reaching for a mug. "Please," he nods, then turns to you. "What would you like? Their lavender latte is excellent if you're feeling adventurous." "I'll try that then," you say, intrigued by his recommendation. As you reach for your wallet, Wonwoo waves you off. "My treat," he says. "Consider it payment for being such a good student today."

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his gesture. "Thank you," you say, touched by his kindness. You follow Wonwoo to a cozy corner booth, sinking into the plush velvet seats. The soft glow of Edison bulbs hanging overhead casts a warm light across his features, softening the sharp angles of his face. You notice  things about him you hadn't before. Like a small scar just above his left eyebrow, and the fact that is hair is not black but a very dark shade of brown. "So," you say, breaking the comfortable silence, "What made you decide to major in math? I mean, you're clearly good at it, but there must be a story there." Wonwoo looks at you, a thoughtful expression on his face. "It's always just made sense to me, you know? There's a beauty in the logic of it all. Plus," he adds with a wry smile, "it impresses people at parties."

You laugh, surprised by his humor. "I can imagine. Though I have to admit, I've never been to a party where calculus was the main topic of conversation." Wonwoo's eyes twinkle with amusement. "Then you're clearly going to the wrong parties. What about you? What's your major?" "Psychology," you reply. "Interesting," Wonwoo muses. "So you're studying the complexities of the human mind while I'm dealing with the complexities of mathematics." You're struck by his observation, realizing there's more depth to Wonwoo than you initially thought.

As you talk, you find yourself opening up about your struggles with calculus, your fears of disappointing your parents. Wonwoo listens intently, his dark eyes focused on you. When you finish, he leans forward slightly. "I understand that pressure," he says softly. "It's not easy living up to others' expectations." There's a vulnerability in his voice that surprises you. For a moment, you see past the composed exterior to someone who might be struggling with his own doubts and insecurities. "How do you do it?" you ask. "How do you make it all look so effortless?" Wonwoo's lips quirk into a half-smile. "Trust me, it's not effortless. I just... I've learned to channel my anxiety into my work. But sometimes, I wonder if I'm missing out on other aspects of college life."

You're about to respond when the barista approaches with your drinks. She sets down two steaming mugs, the rich, floral scent of lavender rising from your cup. You give Wonwoo a quick glance, and he nods in thanks, offering a soft smile. "Here you go," the barista says before retreating behind the counter. You wrap your hands around the warm mug, feeling the heat seep into your palms, a comforting contrast to the coolness of the evening. "Thanks for the coffee," you say again, the warmth in your chest spreading. "This place really is great. Perfect for getting away from everything." Wonwoo nods, taking a slow sip from his own drink. He seems more relaxed here, away from the chaos of the main campus. "Yeah, it's one of my favorite spots. Feels like a little slice of calm." His eyes flicker to you briefly, an unreadable look in them before he shifts slightly in his seat, settling back.

For a few moments, the two of you sit in comfortable silence, the ambient hum of the café filling the gaps between your conversation. You take a sip of your lavender latte, savoring the sweet, floral taste, feeling oddly at peace. "So," Wonwoo finally breaks the silence, his voice a little softer now. "You mentioned earlier that you're majoring in psychology. What made you choose that?" You think for a moment, your fingers tracing the rim of your cup. "I guess I’ve always been curious about what makes people tick," you say. "Why we do the things we do, how we make decisions, how we deal with emotions... There's just so much to learn, you know? It feels like there's always something new to discover." Wonwoo listens, his gaze thoughtful, and you can tell he's really taking in your words. "It’s interesting," he murmurs, "how you’re trying to understand people while I’m trying to make sense of... numbers. There’s something kind of poetic about it."

You smile, surprised at how well he understands. "I guess we're not so different after all, huh?" He chuckles lightly, leaning back into his chair. "Seems like it." His eyes meet yours for a brief second, a spark of something flickering in them. "You know, I didn’t take you for a psych major, no offense. It's just the only thing I knew about you before tonight was that you partied a lot. You chuckle, a little embarrassed. “Yea, I guess I gave off that vibe before I got serious about school,” you admit, feeling a bit sheepish. “I always had a good time, but I’ve definitely been focusing more lately. Trying to get things back on track. Your parents threatening to pull you from school does that to you" Wonwoo nods in understanding, his expression thoughtful. "It's good that you're figuring things out. College can be a balancing act. But you seem like the kind of person who doesn’t give up easily. I think you’ll get there."

His words, simple but encouraging, make you feel a little lighter, like the weight of everything isn't so heavy anymore. "I hope so," you say, taking another sip of your latte. "Honestly, it’s nice to talk to someone who gets it. I feel like I’ve been caught up in my own head lately, especially with everything going on at home." Wonwoo's eyes soften at your words. "You don’t have to carry it all on your own, you know. It’s okay to lean on people." He pauses, then adds, almost as an afterthought, "And sometimes it’s okay to take a break too." You look at him, really look at him for the first time since you’ve sat down, and for the first time, you notice that there’s more to him than just the quiet, reserved guy who aces every class. There’s a quiet strength in him, a kind of stability that draws you in.

"Thanks, Wonwoo. I really appreciate everything," you say, your voice sincere. He smiles again, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly, and for a second, you can’t help but feel a little spark of something more between the two of you. Something you can’t quite place but that feels strangely warm and comfortable. "Anytime," he replies, his voice low and steady. "And hey, don’t worry. You’ll figure out calculus. But if you ever need someone to talk to... about anything else, I’m here." You smile, feeling a little flutter of gratitude. "I think I just might take you up on that."

The two of you sit there for a while longer, enjoying your drinks and the quiet atmosphere of the café, talking about everything from school to silly memories to your favorite music. You realize how easy it is to talk to him, how comfortable you feel in his presence. And even though you’re still not sure what exactly is happening between you two, you can’t deny that something is starting to change.  As the night grows later, the cafe begins to empty out, and you both realize it's getting late. You stand up, gathering your things, and Wonwoo does the same. "Thanks for the coffee," you say again, a little reluctantly. "And for everything tonight. I feel like I actually get calculus now." You grin.

Wonwoo smirks, clearly pleased. "I’m glad I could help. Just don’t expect me to tutor you every night. I have my own assignments too." He says it with a teasing tone, but you can tell he’s enjoying this new dynamic between you. “I’ll take that as a challenge,” you reply, grinning back. "I hope you do." He replies as he opens the door for you. As you both step out into the cool night air, you feel a sense of warmth linger between you, something subtle but unmistakable. The evening was a nice break from the grind of school, but there’s also this growing sense that maybe, just maybe, you’ve stumbled upon something more than just a tutoring session.

As you walk together back to campus, the conversation flows easily, the chemistry between you two undeniable. Wonwoo’s witty remarks and insightful comments seem to draw you in further, and you can’t help but find yourself eagerly looking forward to the next time you’ll see him, even though you try to play it cool. “So, same time tomorrow?” you ask, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the excitement bubbling underneath. Wonwoo turns to you, a half-smile playing at the corner of his lips. “I think we can make that happen. But how about we meet at my dorm, I expect you to bring your A-game,” he teases, nudging you playfully with his shoulder “Deal,” you breath out.

The next day feels like it stretches on forever as you go through the motions of your classes, but your mind keeps drifting back to Wonwoo. The way he helped you the night before, the casual banter, and that lingering smile — it all replayed in your head in a loop. Something about him made everything seem easier, not just calculus, but the world in general. When evening finally rolls around, you find yourself feeling oddly nervous, though you try to brush it off as you gather your notes and make your way to his dorm. Your heart beats a little faster as you walk, the excitement of yesterday's conversation still fresh in your mind. 

As you approach the dorm, you see Wonwoo waiting outside, leaning casually against the brick wall, his arms crossed talking to Mingyu, the quarterback on the football team. He’s wearing a simple white tee shirt and gray sweatpants, his usual composed demeanor softer, somehow more approachable in this setting. When he sees you, he straightens up and gives you a smile that makes your stomach flutter, before dismissing himself from their conversation. You watch as Mingyu walks away as Wonwoo walks to you.

“Ready for round two?” he asks, a playful glint in his eye. You laugh, feeling the tension melt away. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.” You glance at his outfit. "Glad we chose casual attire today" you poke at him. He chuckles rubbing the back of his neck. "Yea I just got out of the shower, I was at the gym with Mingyu." You make your was up the flight of stairs. "I didn't realize you two were friends." You say as you follow him. "Yea we grew up together. He's the closest thing I have to a brother." As you step inside his dorm, it’s clear this isn’t your typical college living situation. The space is surprisingly neat and organized, with a few bookshelves lining the walls and a desk cluttered with notebooks and textbooks, but in a controlled way, as if it was a deliberate mess. There’s a sense of order to it, just like him. You hang up your sweater on the coat hook, take off your shoes, and take a seat on his bed. Wonwoo follows you into the room, his footsteps quiet on the carpeted floor. He grabs his textbook from his desk and then turns to face you. There’s a small, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he observes you settling in on his bed. 

“You sure look like you’re comfortable there?” he asks, his tone teasing but still warm. He walks over and climbs up on the bed with you, close to you. "Comfortable?" he teases, raising an eyebrow. You smirk, leaning back slightly on your hands. "Very. I figured if I’m going to suffer through calculus, I might as well do it in comfort." Wonwoo chuckles, shaking his head before sitting down beside you, placing the textbook between you both. "Alright, let’s get started then. No distractions this time." You nod, but it’s hard to ignore the fact that you’re sitting this close to him, the warmth of his body radiating next to you. You force yourself to focus as he starts explaining derivatives, his voice calm and patient.

The study session goes smoothly at first, but as the minutes tick by, you find yourself more aware of the way Wonwoo’s fingers move as he writes out equations, the slight crease in his brow when he’s thinking, the way his lips curve ever so slightly when he glances at you to check if you’re following along. At one point, you get stuck on a problem, groaning in frustration. "I swear, calculus was invented just to torture people." Wonwoo laughs, leaning in slightly as he looks over your work. "You're overcomplicating it. Look—" His hand brushes against yours as he reaches for your pencil, his touch brief but enough to send a tiny spark through you. You glance at him, and for a second, neither of you says anything. The air between you shifts, something unspoken lingering in the silence. He leans in slightly, eyes tracking your face. "It's all about perspective," he murmurs, his voice low and unexpectedly close. He's still holding your pencil, his fingers brushing against yours, and the simple act feels charged with an energy you can't quite explain. You can smell his cologne again, that same subtle, woodsy scent from the coffee shop, and it’s intoxicatingly distracting.

He doesn't pull away, and neither do you. The textbook lies forgotten between you, the complex equations blurring into meaningless symbols. His gaze flickers down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, and you can see a flicker of something in the depths of his dark pupils – something that mirrors the nervous excitement fluttering in your chest. "You know," he says, his voice barely a whisper, "I never would have guessed you were so… focused." The word hangs in the air, loaded with a double meaning. You know he's not just talking about calculus anymore. "Focused?" you echo, your voice equally soft. He nods, his eyes still locked on yours. "Yeah. You seem… different than I expected." "Different how?" you ask, your heart pounding against your ribs. He hesitates for a moment, as if considering his words carefully. "More… intense. More… interesting."

A blush creeps up your neck, but you don't look away. You're mesmerized by him, by the way the light catches his glasses, by the slight furrow in his brow that suggests he's just as nervous as you are. "I could say the same about you," you reply, finally finding your voice. "I thought you were just… a genius. Turns out you're also… interesting." He chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Is that so?" You nod, unable to articulate the thoughts swirling through your head. You're acutely aware of the proximity of your bodies, the way your thighs are almost touching, the warmth radiating from him. The air crackles with unspoken tension, and you have the distinct feeling that something is about to change between you two.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Maybe… maybe we should take a break from calculus," he whispers, his eyes searching yours. You swallow hard, your pulse quickening. "A break?" He nods, his gaze dropping to your lips again. "Yea. A break." He doesn't need to say anything else. You know exactly what he means. The calculus book slips off the bed and falls to the floor with a soft thud, unnoticed by either of you. His hand reaches out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. His touch is feather-light as it lingers in your hair, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

"Is this okay?" he murmurs, his voice husky. You nod, your own voice lost somewhere in the sudden rush of adrenaline. "More than okay," you manage to say. That's all the confirmation he needs. His lips are soft when they meet yours, a tentative touch at first, as if he's testing the waters. But the kiss quickly deepens, becoming more urgent, more passionate. His hand moves from your hair to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and you instinctively reach up, your fingers tangling in his hair. The kiss grows more urgent, more heated, and before you know it, you’re lying back against his mattress, Wonwoo hovering over you. His glasses are slightly askew, his breathing uneven, and the sight of him like this—disheveled and undone because of you— sends a thrill through you.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, voice low, gaze searching yours. You nod, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. “Yes. I want this. I... I want you” He kisses you again, a searing kiss that leaves no room for doubt. His hand finds its way under your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You arch into him, your own hands exploring the contours of his back, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against yours. His lips trail down your jawline, his breath hot against your skin, and you can't help the small moan that escapes your lips as he nuzzles your neck, his teeth gently grazing your skin, and you gasp, clutching him tighter.

Your hands slide up under his shirt, your hands flat against the muscles of his back. It's not long before his mouth reaches the collar of your shirt. He pulls back, sitting on his knees as he looks down at you. "Can I take this off?" he asks breathlessly pulling on the bottom of your shirt. You eagerly shake your head yes "Please" you say. His hands make quick work of pulling your shirt off over your head, his hand coming down and sliding under your back. His hand gripping the clasp of your bra. "This too?" he ask's as his lips ghost over yours. You kiss him in response. His hand move quickly, undoing your bra before he pulls back from the kiss. 

He gently removes your bra, his eyes darkening with desire as they rake over your exposed skin. The cool air brushes against you, making you shiver with anticipation. He leans in, his lips finding your skin again. His hands roam over yourbody, his touch setting you on fire. You gasp as his teeth graze your neck, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through you. He pulls back slightly, his gaze intense as he takes in your flushed skin. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky. His hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips as he presses himself against you, the evidence of his desire hard against your stomach. You moan softly, arching into him, wanting more.

Your hands gripping the hem of his shirt and tug. "Off" you say breathlessly. "As you wish" he says, pulling his shirt over his head and revealing his sculpted chest and abs. The evadence of those work outs with Mingyu. Your hands immediately explore the hard planes of his muscles, earning a low groan from him. He captures your lips again. His lips trail down your neck, leaving a hot, wet path to your collarbone. You arch your back, craving more contact. His hand slides down your stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. You gasp at the intimate touch, your hips rising to meet him. His fingers find your core, already slick with desire. He groans your name, the sound sending a thrill through you.

He coats his fingers in your wetness before finding your clit. With deliberate strokes, his eyes locked on yours, watching your reactions. You writhe beneath him, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. "Please," you beg, your voice barely a whisper. He smirks, his touch becoming more insistent, pushing you closer to the edge. You grip the sheets, your body tensing as the pleasure builds. He leans down, his lips finding yours again, swallowing your moans as you shatter around him, waves of ecstasy crashing over you. He pulls back, his eyes dark with lust as he watches you come undone. He grips the top of your leggings, pulling down both them and your underwear in one swift motion till they are a heap on the floor.

 His hand moves lower, slipping two fingers inside you. You cry out at the sudden feeling, your walls clenching around him. He pumps his fingers slowly, curling them to hit that soft spot deep inside you. Your back arches off the bed, your hands gripping his sheets as he drives you wild. "More," you plead, your voice ragged. He slowly, adding a third finger and increasing the pace. The sound of your wetness fills the room, mingling with your moans and his groans. He leans down, capturing your nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting gently. The sensation of both pushes you over the edge again, your body convulsing as you come undone around his fingers.

He doesn't stop, continuing to thrust his fingers as you ride out your orgasm. Your vision blurs, pleasure coursing through you. He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his lips and tasting you. The sight sends a fresh wave of heat through you. He moves down your body, spreading your legs wide. His tongue replaces his fingers, licking and sucking your clit. You scream his name, your hands fisting in his hair as he drives you higher. His tongue lapping at your wet entrance,  his fingers gripping your thighs as he devours you.

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with desire as he continues his assault on your senses. His tongue circles your clit, teasing and tormenting you. You can't hold back any longer, your body tensing as another orgasm crashes over you. He doesn't let up, not even when the tears start to flow. 

He finally pulls away, his lips slick with your arousal. He moves back up your body, his hard length pressing against your thigh. "How are you doing?" he ask's, concern shining in his eyes. "I need you to take then off now" you say as you push the waist of his sweats down his hips. He gives you a small chuckle before standing up and pulling his pants down. Your eyes widen at the site of his huge cock. This long and thick and has a head the prettiest shade of pink that currently is driping pre cum. He climbs baack ontop of you, pepering kisses along your skin till he meets your mouth again. 

You reach down, wrapping your hand around him and stroking slowly. He groans, breaking the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he tries to regain control. But you're not done with him yet. You guide him to your entrance, "Please Wonwoo" you moan. With one smooth thrust, his cock is deep inside you. You let out a moan from deep in your throat as your eyes slam shut. He still's. "Hey, hey. Open your eyes  for me baby" he coos down at you. His hands pushing your hair out of the way, cupping your face. You peel your eyes open, finding his right above you. "Are you okay?" He ask's sweetly. Your chest filling with warmth. "Yea" you whisper out. "Do you want me to stop?" He starts to raise up on his arms. "NO" you say gripping onto his arms to stop him. "I just needed a minute to adjust. Your big Wonwoo" you watch as a blush creeps across his face, joined by a smile. 

"You are going to be the death of me aren't you" he laughs "And you will be for me if you dont move" you push your hips forward to get your point across, instantly regretting it as you feel him nudge inside of you. A moan slipping from both of your mouths. In response he starts to move his hips. Slow and cautious at first, but your sounds quickly spur him on. He picks up the pace, growing more confidant as he watches you chant his name with each thrust. Your hands gripping the sheets to keep yourself grounded as the coil in your stomach tightens. Wonwoo leans down, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your jaw, his breath warm against your skin. "You feel so good," he whispers, his voice rough. His fingers lace with yours, pinning them beside your head as he thrusts into you. The room filled with the wet sounds of his hips meeting yours, your small gasps and moans and his grunts every time you tighten around him. 

"Wonwoo," you whimper, your back arching as the pleasure coils tighter inside you. He presses his forehead to yours, his lips brushing against yours as he murmurs, "I’ve got you, baby." His thrusts grow deeper, more deliberate, hitting that perfect spot. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer, desperate to feel every inch of him. "You’re amazing," he breathes against your lips, his voice trembling as he fights to make this last. But the way you feel around him, it's unraveling his control. His free hand trails down your body, tracing over the curve of your waist before slipping between you, finding your clit and making  your breath hitch. He starts with tight pressured circles. "Wonwoo, I—" Your voice breaks as you're vaulted over the edge. Your wall tightening around him as you release all over his cock. His movements turning erratic as he chases his own release behind you, burying hims cock deep inside you as he shudders with pleasure. Spilling deep inside you. 

His body collapses onto of you, staying buried deep in you. He presses gentle kisses along your jaw, his touch now featherlight, a stark contrast to the intensity from moments ago. "You okay?" he murmurs, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your hip. You nod, a blissful smile stretching across your face. "More than okay." He chuckles softly, rolling onto his side and pulling you against his chest. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if afraid to let you go. You listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling safe, cherished. "I have something to tell you" he says as he kisses the top of your head. "okay" you say hesitantly, fear creeping into your mind at what it could be. 

"I have had a little crush on you for a long time now." He says voice just above a whisper. "But I'v been to scared to ever approach you. Afraid you wouldn't want to be with someone like me" Your breath catches at his confession, your heart squeezing in your chest. You pull back just enough to look up at him, your fingers tracing soft patterns over his chest. "Wonwoo," you whisper, his name a gentle reassurance on your lips.

His eyes flicker with vulnerability, a rare sight that makes your heart ache. "I didn't know how to approach you. You were always hanging out with the popular kids." he says "it felt like we were in two different worlds." You look up at him thinking back to just last week and you could see how that could be. "Well we're not anymore" you say kissing his chest. He laughs "Your right, so if I were to say ask you out on a date this weekend, your answer would be?"

You grin up at him, your fingers still tracing lazy circles against his skin. "I’d say yes," you murmur, watching as relief washes over his face, quickly replaced by the softest smile you've ever seen from him. "Yea?" he asks, as if he can’t quite believe it. You nod, tilting so your face is closer to his. "Yes, Wonwoo. A thousand times yes." you ghost your lips over his. His arms tighten around you, pulling you flush against him. He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, then your nose, before finally capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. It’s different from before. Less urgency, more depth. Like he’s trying to memorize the way you taste, the way you fit against him. When he pulls back, his eyes shine with something deeper than just desire. "Guess I should start planning the perfect first date, then," he says with a soft chuckle.

You smile, nuzzling into his chest. "Yea I guess you should."

Dividers by @strangergraphics

[lnfours]

false god | l.n

summary: we might just get away with it.

warnings: based off of ‘false god’ by taylor swift, brothers best friend!lando, fewtrell!reader, mutual pining, sexual themes, this stupidly hot outfit bc he always looks good in black. also this is kind of trash but i really wanted to get something out for you guys 😩

masterlist | listen | ask box

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

the rain was pattering hard against the window in your room, but it was simply background noise as you played music softly from your computer. you hummed quietly to the song playing, your pencil scratching against the notepad before the soft ping let you know you had gotten a text.

lando

you still awake?

you grabbed your phone, unlocking it and typing back.

yea, why? can’t sleep?

a couple of seconds later your phone lit up again, a new message from him appearing on your lockscreen.

yea, still jet lagged.

wanna watch a movie or something? max and p went on a date and left me all alone 😩

you chuckled, typing back a response.

pretty sure that’s the point of a date 🤔

but sure, doors open

he disliked the first message, which made you chuckle before you heard footsteps echo down the hallway. your door creaked open, the brunette joining you on your bed as you closed your notebook. you pushed the things to the side, tossing him the tv remote.

“your pick this time.”

“i thought i picked last time?” he said, hand resting behind his head as the other grabbed the remote. you looked over at him now, the black shirt hugging his muscles perfectly, the black jeans showing off his thighs and the red backwards hat was about to send you into cardiac arrest.

it was a bad idea to look over at him, especially when the crush you’ve had on him had only worsened over the past day or so, just like it did every time he was here.

“mm, no,” you said, “i picked that scary movie last time, remember?”

“oh yeah, the only reason you picked it was because of that hot dude.”

you scoffed, “no!”

he sent you a smirk, “yeah, okay,”

you rolled your eyes and motioned to the tv, “just pick a movie, i’m gonna go make some popcorn. want anything?”

he twisted his lips in thought while you stood up. his eyes traveled over your figure as you put the stuff on your desk, the thin pajama shorts hugging your curves, the oversized hoodie falling down a little bit to return back to the tops of your thighs, you just looked so good to him right now. you always do, but right now especially.

he was quick to look away from your body, eyes meeting yours as you spun around, “just a water, please.”

you nodded, exiting the room and he let go of the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. he wasn’t sure when it had happened, but every time he saw you recently, his chest got tight. he wasn’t supposed to feel this way about his best friends sister, she was off limits. especially to him.

he was lost in thought until the microwave beeping in the kitchen echoed and pulled him out of it, reminding himself that he still had to pick a movie. he scrolled through netflix, settling on one he had seen before but knew you’d like.

you handed him his water, which he thanked you for before you plopped down on the bed. you put the popcorn in the middle of you two before starting the movie.

at some point the popcorn had been moved to the floor, the two of you getting closer and closer without really realizing until his finger bumped against your pinky. you sucked in a shaky breath, waiting to see if he would move it. he did the same, looking down to see if you were going to pull away.

when you didn’t, he made the next move and wrapped his pinky around yours. you didn’t want to make it obvious that you weren’t looking at the movie, but you really wanted to glance over at him.

he did it for you, though, turning and looking at you before bringing a hand up to your jaw, turning your head to look at him. you almost folded, right then and there. your heart beating out of your chest and everything was happening so quickly.

but when you met his soft eyes, glowing in the light of the small lamp you had kept on and the light from the tv, all the nerves washed away, “lando,”

his voice was quiet as he softly pulled away, “sorry, i.. uh, i don’t know-“

you shook your head, grabbing his hand and putting it back on your cheek, “no, it’s okay.”

he nodded, eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips quickly, having a mental debate with himself on wether or not he should take it a step further.

you took matters into your own hands, though. readjusting as you got closer. he watched you intently, his eyes locked on every move, the movie on the tv long forgotten about as the two of you breathed out. his green eyes were piercing right into yours. he leaned in a little closer, pressing his forehead against yours.

“i shouldn’t want to,” he breathed softly, “but i really want to kiss you.”

your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, “maybe you should.”

“it would ruin everything,”

“not if he doesn’t find out.” you were inches apart now, his hands on your hips as you hovered over him. your heart felt like it was going to bust through your rib cage and it was all you could hear as the room fell silent.

it didn’t last long as his voice broke through the tension, “fuck it.”

he nudged your nose with his, meeting your lips in a kiss that sent tingles down your spine. you kissed him back, letting his hands grip you a little tighter as his tongue licked against your bottom lip.

the kiss carried on for a while, neither one of you wanting to pull away when he rolled the both of you over so now he was the one hovering over your frame. his necklace dangled above your chest, lips moving from yours as they peppered kisses against the base of your throat.

“fuck,” he mumbled against your skin, “‘ve wanted this for so long.”

you hummed back, fingers running through the curls on the back of his neck, breathing out a soft, “me too.”

you brought one hand down his spine, gripping at the hem of his shirt as you tugged it up, revealing the soft skin of his back. he understood what you were saying with your movements, pulling the material over his head and tossing it to the floor.

once he turned back to you, it was your turn to have his hands ride up the sweatshirt you were wearing, his fingers soft against your skin. you giggled when he accidentally moved over your ribs, a smirk spreading across his face.

“you’re still ticklish there?”

you nodded, “unfortunately.”

“good to know,” he was definitely going to keep that in mind.

his lips met yours again as he kissed you sweetly, which turned hungry in a matter of a few minutes as he helped you out of the sweatshirt.

however, the sound of the front door closing made the two of you jump apart, lando pausing his movements as he froze above you.

“we’re back!”

“shit,” you mumbled, the footsteps nearing your door as the two of you separated. you pulled the first article of clothing you could find over your head.

“just hide in here till he goes away.” you mumbled, shoving lando towards the closet. he chuckled, but opened the door anyway.

“i like being your little secret,” he teased, “we should do this more often.”

you rolled your eyes, “shut up!”

you closed the door before he could speak again, flopping back on the bed before your bedroom door opened. you looked towards your brother, a soft smile on your face as he held up the container for you.

“brought you back dinner.”

“thanks, you can just put it on the desk.”

he nodded, walking into your room before eyeing you down, “you alright? your hairs a mess and you look frazzled.”

you nodded, smoothing your hair over with your palms, “‘m good, just woke up from a nap.”

he nodded, now his eyes falling to the shirt you were wearing, “is that lando’s shirt?”

you nearly choked, but looked down at the material you had thrown on. sure enough, it was the shirt lando had thrown on the floor a mere ten minutes before your brother rudely interrupted.

“huh, guess so,” you tried to play it cool, “guess it got mixed up in my laundry. just kinda grabbed it earlier.”

he nodded, sending you a look which made it look like he wasn’t totally buying what you were saying, “okay..” you licked your lips nervously, “p and i are gonna watch a movie, you can join if you want.”

you nodded, “yeah, i’ll think about it.”

“oh, is lando home?” max asked, “i had something to ask him.”

he spun on his heels, turning towards the door, but you cut him off before he could investigate himself, “nah, i think he went out.”

your brother nodded, “damn, alright. just let me know if you wanna watch the movie.”

you nodded, “i will, thanks.”

he closed the door behind him on the way out, lando soon opening the closet door quietly to leave the closet. you smirked when his eyes met yours, the two of you breaking out into quiet laughter as he joined you back on the bed.

“you div! you took my shirt instead of your hoodie?”

you laughed softly, “i’m sorry! i grabbed the first thing i could find.”

he smiled, hovering back over you, “you look better in it, anyway.”

“you know where it looks even better?” your arms were slung around his neck now.

“where?” his smile was still on his face.

“the floor,”

he laughed softly, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, “mind reminding me?”

you hummed, “i guess i could show you.”

[slutforwoo]

☆15. what the actual fuck☆

previous|masterlist|next

you'd be lying if you said you weren't nervous to have yunho over again, even it was purely just to study. rushing to clean up the mess in the living room you do even hear when the doorbell rings. snapping out of it, you quickly make your way over to the door.

taking a moment to regain your composure, you finally open the door to reveal yunho waiting with food in hand.

"I got some pho on the way," he smiled as you moved to the side to invite him in.

"omg you're the best yuyu, you can put it on the table"you beamed as you closed the door and followed him into the living room, sitting around the coffee table.

you sat opposite each other, yunho pulling out the pho and his books and notebooks. setting it to the side while the two of you ate and just caught up a bit.

"I just can't wait for this year to be over man"you sighed, "like, im alost done with school so"

"must be nice, I have a long way to go"yunho said, seeming a bit bummed at the amount of school he had left.

"you got it though, your smart like yun, you're in the honor roll" you teased.

"ah, yes, I forgot, honestly," he laughed lightly, looking at the slight smirk on your face. "I would be a liar if I said this was with an insane amount of effort, but for me it isnt" he said, trying to hold back a laugh

"you lucky fuck" you say rolling your eyes before taking the last bite of your food and getting your books and things out to start studying.

after clearing the table you guys begin, going over the key things you might need come your class tommorow. it was genuinely a shame that break was over so soon.

you had been lucky you took a couple of days to pre shoot some content and videos. aw fuck did you lock the room? you couldn't remember. you excused yourself to "go to the bathroom" but in reality you went to make sure the room was locked before making your back into the living room, yunho deep into writing him notes.

"do you want anything to drink?"you ask walking past him into the small kitchen, opening up the fridge to see what you had. "I have, water, banana milk, fruit punch?" you question as you grab a banana milk for urself.

"banana milk" he called out, looking up to you digging into the fridge to grab another bottle before walking back over.

"you went a section ahead," you pouted as you handed him the drink, taking a look at his notebook.

"I promise you can just copy my notes and I'll give you the rundown," he smiled as you took his notebook to copy what he had written down and he took a moment to take in what you were wearing.

you had on a short-cropped tank top and your grey zip-up jacket. yunho always found it a bit odd that you would try to always wear jackets. along with sometimes adding long sleeves to cover your tattoos, you always want to hide. but sometimes he'd notice the makeup smudge on certain spots, but he never said anything. just out of pure respect.

It was getting hot in the apartment, you felt yourself start to sweat and you were having an internal debate on taking off your jacket. you heavily doubted that yunho knew what you do or watched your content. no way right? after the internal debate you decided to take it off but the doorbel rung.

"ah I think thats the mail gimme a second" you said excusing yourself and as you got up and started to walk away, you took of your jacket.

yunho's eyes going wide when he recognizes the familiar fairy wing tattoo on your back. there was no fucking way? you're fucking cher??? the cam girl him and his 2 other friends obsess over??? who the fuck were the guys in the videos and streams then?? no fucking way.

you turn around from grabbing the mail to see yunho in his state of shock for just a split second before he fixes his face.

"is everything okay yun?" you question as you made your way back to the living room.

"u-uh yea, I just forgot I need to go um with uh san to get groceries for the house today. I'm sorry I have to go," he stuttered out as he gathered his things and rushed out of the apartment.

you stood there in shock, suddenly alone and confused as to why he made up a lie to leave so quickly. there's no way he recognized the tattoo on your back, right?

p☆rnst☆r tag list 

@roxhanah@sunnysidesins@spenceatiny18  @kookieswithjung   @kcharlyy  @bloomyroses  @jiminssluttyminx  @fairy-jojo  @oceanside-view97 @domfikeluva @mountquokka @frecklypotato @bambbiisworld

[stargirlygirl]

okay but like bakugou x seamstress fem!reader. you’re a fashion designer and have your own small label. for every event your husband goes to, he’s in one of your designs that was, of course, made by you.

he groans as you sit on the floor, one knee bent as you push up your glasses. you’ve got your tape measure wrapped around katsuki’s lower leg.

he thinks you look absolutely adorable as you concentrate on taking his measurements. he still finds odd that you insist on always re-taking his measurements every few months, but he's learned to shrug it off and let you have your way.

“i wanna make sure your clothes look good, suki!” you chime. you pushed him back by the shoulders, leading him to the centre of the living room where he now stands, peering down at you.

tingles erupt underneath his skin as your delicate, pin-pricked fingertips run up his shin to his thigh, tape measure gliding through his blond hair. and when you gaze up at him with those pretty lined eyes, he comes undone.

his heart beats calmly as you say, “you’re thighs have gotten bigger.” tch.

he huffs, “what’s that supposed t’mean?” you poke his thigh innocently, meeting his crimson eyes with a similar look.

you grin, “probably because it’s winter.” you gaze back at the tape measure before recording his new measurement in your trusty notebook. you can feel him glaring at you, but you know it’s in jest. you then measure his other leg and hips.

coming to his waist, you giggle, “and your waist has gotten bigger too.”

your husband grumbles, “yea, well, don’t get used to it. by summer, it’ll all be gone.” you look up at him, your palm cupping his cheek as you guide his gaze to yours.

you say sweetly, “but i like you like this.” with your other hand, you poke the fresh fat of his tummy. there’s not too much. just enough so he’s more cuddly now.

“oi! quit it, brat!” he steps back, evading your wandering hands.

you pout playfully, “oh come on, suki! let me finish my measurements, please.” he gives in after a minute of staring down at you, feigning irritation whilst utterly entranced by your soft gaze.

once you finish, you peck him on the cheek and skip off happily to your sewing room to start designing his new suit.

…⊹₊⟡⋆…

at the annual pro heroes gala, no one can take their eyes off your husband. you really outdid yourself this time, sewing his suit to perfection.

you only finished it a few hours ago as you had been making some last-minute alterations. all of the sweat and tiny pricks and screaming as you seam ripped was all worth it as your husband looks delicious. you could take a bite out of him the way the fabric falls over his skin, hugging his 50 pounds of ass and meaty biceps. you can’t decide which one you want to devour first.

seeing your dazed expression, katsuki comes back to you, eager to rid himself of old acquaintances and false pleasantries. he wraps his arm around your waist, drawing you into his side tightly as he mutters into your hairline, “everything okay, sweets?”

you hum, snapping out of it and gazing up at him. you say quietly, “just thinking about how good you look tonight. everyone keeps staring at you.”

katsuki chuckles gruffly, the sound pure ecstasy to your ears. “all because of you, doll.” you shake your head in protest, but your husband grabs your chin and tilts it back. your lips brush lightly, teasingly.

he whispers against them, “why don’t cha let me show you how grateful i am?” you bite on your lower lip as you think over his offer that you’re bound to accept. the little movement drives him crazy. crazy enough to smash his lips onto yours as photographers rapidly snap pictures.

the next morning, you’re sore. there’s no doubt about that. you groan as you roll over, taking in a grinning katsuki as he pulls you close, hand in his phone as he scrolls through twitter.

there are a million comments about you both: your kiss, your incredible design and sewing skills, how hot pro hero dynamight is, how lucky you are to be his wife.

you tilt your head up and kiss his jaw, mumbling into it a sleepy “good morning”. he hums as he tightens his grip on your hips.

after bellowing about a comment he read, katsuki draws you in impossibly closer and kisses your forehead. the heat of his lips lingers on your skin as he peppers kisses down to your ear. he grumbles, “love you.”

you sigh, curling your toes from the warmth spreading throughout your body. “i love you, too.”

[buckys-forgotten-plum]

A Lesson in Love {2}

College!AU

Smarty Pants!Bucky x Cheerleader!Reader

Synopsis: Being a newly metamorphosed social butterfly certainly has its perks: an amazing friend group, a position on the cheer squad you’ve dreamed about for years, and the ability to make connections everywhere you go. Unfortunately, it doesn't make you any better at Linear Algebra, enter Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: Cursing, awkward reader, James Barnes being a menace, probs cringy writing, most definitely not proofread <3

A/N: Part 2! Hooray! I’m not super happy with it, but to be fair i’m never happy with my work so whomp whomp to me. Hopefully you guys like it, next part will intro a new character and perhaps some drama will occur~

Part one

~~~~~~~~~~

Fluorescent light floods the space, the fixtures letting out a quiet hum that harmonizes with the consistent drone of the radiator up against the wall. The windows do little to help light up the room as overcast skies tease the possibility of rain. The room is warm, a contrast to the uncharacteristically chill weather outside, and with the calming white noise, you wouldn’t be surprised if someone used the space as more of a nap pod than a study room located in your university’s library.

And yet, even with what some would consider the perfect environment-

“I think I’m dying,” You groan, head slowly falling to rest upon the cool surface of the desk, “Seriously, I can feel the life draining from my body as we speak.”

An amused snort sounds from directly beside you, ”You’re not dying, just dramatic,”

Your head whips up at the accusation, eyebrows furrowed as your lips puff out into a frowning pout, “How could you say that? Look at me, I’m wasting away! Whoever invented this stuff should be burned at the stake” you grumble quietly and hold your glare on the man next to you.

James lets out a boisterous laugh, relaxing back into the office chair he’s sat in as he tilts his head and raises a curious brow at you, “Have you eaten today, Sugar? It’s nearly 1 o’clock and we’ve been here for over two hours,”

The pout adorning you face solidifies as he zeroes in on your failure to eat, “I got distracted while getting ready and didn’t have time to grab anything before heading over,” You break away from James’ gaze and stare down at your notebook, a small wave of embarrassment washing over you.

The reason you didn’t have time to eat was due to the fact you had to stand in front of your bathroom mirror for an extra 15 minutes to keep yourself from bailing out of the study session entirely. It had been two weeks since you had sat next to the brunette man that complimented your stickers and called you a sweet pet name, and those two weeks had been the most socially awkward you’ve felt since you had graduated high school. The stuttering, stumbling, word-vomiting self you had tried so hard to shove down into the dark depths of your mind had made a startling appearance in the last few weeks and you were struggling to understand why. All confidence left you as soon as James entered your eyeline, and frankly, it was making you spiral.

Was it his looks? No, that can’t be it. All of your friends were major hotties so you’d gotten used to being around ethereal beauty.

Was it the pet names? Also no, Stevie and Lena gave you pet names within the first week of knowing you!

Was it how close he always insisted on being to you? That-well that certainly wasn’t helping the situation. He’s just so warm and his cologne is to die for-

“Hey Sweets? You okay over there?” Your head jerks back up and whips over to find James looking at you with mild concern clouding his eyes.

“Oh what? Yea-no, or yes, yes I’m okay! Why do you ask?” Your hand subconsciously balls into a fist as you silently will the burn in your cheeks to subside. Pull yourself together for god's sake!

“I asked if you wanted to go grab something to eat and you kinda just…zoned out?” His questioning eyes were trained on your face, looking over your features to see if he could find a clue to your strange behavior.

”Right! Sorry, I guess maybe the lack of eating really is getting to me,” You mumble quietly.

James leans towards you, laying a gentle hand on your shoulder before nodding, “That’s alright, let’s go get you something to eat-“

Before he could finish his offer, he was interrupted by the familiar buzz of his phone on the table. Your classmate immediately slaps his hand down onto the device and silences it, letting out a quiet sigh. Curiosity overtakes your embarrassment and you look at your study partner inquisitively, “That's like the third time someone’s called you, maybe you should answer it this time?”

He shakes his head and smiles down at you as he stands, “Nah it’s nothing important. C’mon, I know a really good diner that’s right off campus,” He doesn’t wait for any confirmation before putting your notebook away and slinging both your bags over his broad shoulder.

You stare up at him for a moment, a little stunned at his boldness and questioning if he was joking or not, “A-are you sure? Because the test tomorrow seems like it’s gonna be pretty difficult and I’m not sure if I’ve done enough prep work yet.”

James gives you an understanding nod, “You’re not gonna retain anything if you’re starving, Sugar. Once we get some food in you, I promise we’ll come back here and finish studying.”

“Yeah I guess you’re right, does the diner have good french fries?” You look up at James with hopeful eyes as the thought of one of your favorite foods comes to mind.

He snorts out a laugh and nods his head, “Yes the diner has excellent french fries.”

———————

Thankfully, James wasn’t lying when he said the diner wasn’t too far away, as the weather seemed to only worsen as time passed. By the time you had arrived and James was kindly holding the door to the restaurant open for you, a chill had settled deep within your body, the wind had picked up dramatically and the clouds had darkened even more in color.

“Spring storm I guess? If it gets any worse we can just wait it out here, they have free WiFi and everything so we’ll be all set,” James comments as he leads you over to a small booth in the corner with a window that gives a perfect view for the upcoming storm.

You nod and begin to take in your surroundings. It certainly wasn’t the most modern diner you had ever been in, kind of reminded you of the one your grandparents would take you to as a kid. The dark green upholster on all the seats was worn, even cracked in some booths, and the floor looked like it had seen better days. But the waitress that greeted you was friendly and the smells coming from the kitchen window were making your mouth water.

”Hey Bucky! How’s your day goin’? Who’s your little friend here?” The chirping voice of the waitress brings you back to the surface of your mind as she approaches the table.

Your head tilts curiously at the unfamiliar name, but you quickly recover to smile up at the middle aged woman as James replies.

“Hi Donna,” James replies, a bright smile on his face as he introduces you as his new study partner, “It’s going good, just taking a break from studying for a bit, how about yourself?”

The waitress replies enthusiastically, recounting her day and telling James about her son giving her a hard time when getting ready for school earlier in the morning. James, (or Bucky?) laughs at her story before quickly glancing towards you with a smile, “You want anything to drink, Sugar?”

You’re taken off guard by the question thrown your way, “O-oh sorry, um yeah- Could I have like a hot chocolate maybe?”

”Hot chocolate huh?” James looks at you, his eyes still crinkled into that charming smile.

You once again feel your cheeks flare up as you realize the childish order, “O-or coffee, I mean, coffee is good!” You glance between the waitress, Donna, and James, silently hoping now that you’ve ordered they could go back to talking.

“Oh don’t let him tease you, sweetheart. Our hot coco is to die for here, and I like to dress it up with all the fixin’s so don’t you worry,” She smiles down at you and gives you a mischievous wink before jotting your order down on a notepad.

You mumble a quiet thanks and immerse yourself in the menu that was slipped onto the table earlier. James gives his order to Donna before stating you’d both need a couple minutes to decide what you’d like to eat. As your waitress departs to begin fulfilling your orders, James turns his attention back to you. You fail to notice his stare as your attention remains locked onto the pages of the menu, and it’s not until you’re deciding between pancakes or a burger that he breaks your focus.

A little ball of paper hits your forehead, taking you by surprise and causing you to let out a grumble of discontent, “What the hell James?”

You look up from your menu, surprised by the plastic cups of water Donna had managed to deliver without disturbing you and realizing the object that hit you must have been a balled up straw wrapper. You glare down at the little piece of ammo before fixing your glare onto James’ mischievously glinting eyes, “Can I help you?”

His smile widens and he moves to lean his forearms on the table, his eyes turning from mischief to intensity as they narrow, “Yeah, actually you can,” he nods before leaning forward even more, “What’s your deal, Sugar?”

You instinctively try to lean further back into your own seat but only meet a wall, “What do you mean ‘what’s my deal’? What’s your deal, Bucky?” Your eyes narrow just like his, and even though you’re basically plastering yourself against the wall of the booth, you try to look as intimidating as possible.

‘Bucky’ leans over the table even more, comically so to the point where he’s basically kneeling on the bench, inadvertently making you let out some garbled hybrid of laughter and discomfort, “How do you know about that name?” He asks accusingly, his right hand shooting out to point a finger in your face.

You guffaw, face contorting into a look of absolute disbelief as you go to defend yourself, “James the waitress literally called you that like five minutes ago,” You deadpan, no wonder this guy was failing your math class.

James somehow manages to narrow his eyes even more and it starts a staring (or glaring) contest between you both. Your expression changes from disbelief at his cartoonish reaction, to unamused as you refuse to let him win the silly challenge. The two of you sit in silence for who knows how long, your eyes are beginning to feel a slight sting on your waterline and you’re almost sure James is cheating with how squinted he’s made his eyes. You nearly give in just to end the ridiculous game when suddenly two mugs of hot coco, brightly decorated in whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles, are unceremoniously set down on the table. The loud clap of ceramic on wood makes both of you break and look up at Donna who is sporting an awkward, albeit friendly, smile.

“Everything alright over here?” She asks, glancing between you and James as she cautiously slides each mug towards their respective owner.

“All good over here Donna! You ready to order some food, Sweets?” James’ suspicion has completely melted away as he now casually leans against the back of the booth, sporting a lopsided grin.

“I-Uh yeah, yeah I guess so…” You murmur, quickly flipping through your menu again and making sure you recite the correct menu item to Donna as you order.

Donna makes sure to jot down both yours and James’ orders, along with any modifications that were requested before quickly making her way back to the kitchen, leaving you and James in another drought of silence. You take the chance to look around the diner once again, trying to ignore the feeling of James staring at you from across the table. You hear the faint scraping of ceramic sliding across the table and before you’re able to tear your eyes away from the downpour happening outside the window, James is out of his seat and gliding right back into yours, unabashedly crowding into you.

His right arm goes up to drape across the back of the booth while his left rests on the edge of the wood table. As soon as you notice what’s happening, a squeak of surprise pushes out of your lips and you begin to scoot closer to the window, James immediately following you and effectively trapping you in the corner of the booth. His cologne surrounds you, the warm, spicy scent of cinnamon takes over your senses and the body heat that begins to radiate off of him and on to you nearly sends you into a spiral.

“You didn’t answer my question, Honey Bee,” James hums smoothly, his eyes hooded as he looks down at you.

You immediately want to tell him that nickname is reserved for Steve but are unable to as you become distracted by how positively close he is to you. You’re able to make out details never before noticed from your previous, appropriately distanced, encounters. Every impossibly long eyelash that brushes against his sharp, freckle dusted cheekbones, the different hues of blue that marble his icy pupils, the rough stubble that signifies the beginning of a beard.

It feels like lava is injected into your veins and a fiery heat races up your neck to the tips of your ears. You stutter out a few incomprehensible words, trying to look anywhere but at the man who is taking up most of your field of vision. Your hands clench into stressed fists as they clam up from a mix of stress and shear shyness.

“I-I don’t… I’m not really sure w-what your-what you could be talking about James,” You mutter quietly, continuing to push yourself up against the window to achieve a modicum of space.

“That right there,” James nods in your direction, “Sweetheart, you’re known as the campus’ social butterfly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not talking to somebody, but whenever we get together for our study sessions you go all-“ He waves a hand haphazardly towards your scrunched up form, “gooey,” He finishes with finality, dropping his waving hand back down onto the table.

You don’t say it out loud, but gooey is a far cry to what you feel right now, tight and strung out, waiting for your strings to finally reach their limit before they inevitably snap.

James only waits a moment before speaking again, “It’s like every time we get together you wanna melt into the floor, you never want to push too hard, or your always bending to what you think I’d prefer. I know you aren’t like that with anyone else, Sugar. I saw you try to put Roger’s into a headlock last week and-“

”Y-you know Steve?” You interrupt suddenly, your brows furrowing curiously as you finally turn your gaze to James.

His reaction to your question makes it look like you caught him in some type of lie, and you actually start to think you might actually have. Ever since you had talked to James that day in your lecture, neither him nor Steve had made any indication of knowing each other, even if one was brought up by you in conversation with the other.

”Oh uhm…” James actually scoots back a bit, giving you the space to take a much needed breath. He breaks your gaze and glances around the booth, nervously tapping his index finger against the table, “I mean-y’know everybody kinda just, like, knows each other, ya know?”

You look at him, perplexed by the out of character reaction, “I guess, but you called him Roger’s and he only lets his close friends call him that.” Your head tilts as you look over the man's strange demeanor, “So do you guys know each other or…?”

”I think we should change the subject-“ He starts but before he can get very far you interrupt.

”Why are you being so dodgy about knowing Stevie?” You ask more firmly, gaining confidence as you realize your positions of interrogation have flipped.

”Why are you always so gooey around me?”

You scoff, “I am not gooey around you-“

James holds up a hand before you can continue your bickering, “Let’s make a deal. You drop the Steve thing, and I won’t comment on your gooey-ness-“

”But I’m not gooey!” You protest, voice strained and cheeks burning.

James puts his hand out for you to shake and raises a brow, “Deal or no deal, goober?”

You can’t help but let out a frustrated puff of air, your lips pouting out as you look up at him, “Fine. But you can’t call me goober ever again, and you have to tell me why Donna called you Bucky.” You grab his hand and wait for a response.

“I’ll tell you if I get to keep calling you goober,” He wagers, a sly grin spreading across his lips.

”You get a limit of once a day,” You deadpan.

“Make it five,” His grin grows wider and his grip on your hand firmer.

”Three,” You grumble, your pouted lips turning downward into a small frown.

”You got yourself a deal, goob,” James shakes your hand with finality and finally leans back to give you an appropriate amount of space.

You roll your eyes and snatch your hand back from his, “Pay up, you freak,” you grumble half heartedly.

James barks out a laugh at the lame insult, taken a little off guard by your sudden snappiness, “It’s nothing crazy, just a childhood nickname that followed me into adulthood. My middle name is Buchanan, so it’s just a shortened version,” He explains a bit bashfully, his eyes failing to keep contact with yours, “Most people call me Bucky unless it’s a professional thing or whatever,”

You try not to feel the disappointment of being categorized as ‘a professional thing or whatever’.

You nod your head in faux nonchalance, “That’s cool,”

James snorts at your lackluster reaction, “If you want, you can call me Bucky.”

You glance up at Bucky and back down to the table, biting down on your lip to hold back you smile, “O-okay,”

Bucky grins and lets out a quiet chuckle before turning to greet Donna as she cheerily arrives with your meals, pretending like she doesn’t notice that Bucky has switched to your side of the booth. She quickly restates each order and asks if anything else is needed, James confirms that everything looks fantastic and you both thank her before she walks away. You begin to dig into your plate, humming quietly at the flavorful scramble that melts in your mouth as you realize how truly hungry you are. Arithmetic and bickering with a handsome classmate really works up an appetite apparently. James begins to dig in to his as well, gracelessly shoving large bites of pancakes into his mouth as if he hadn’t eaten in years. You silently roll your eyes and continue on with your meal as you both enjoy your meals.

It’s only after a few minutes of wordless eating that Bucky speaks, “Y’know I like when you get feisty with me. Makes me get all hot n’ bothered,” He states simply, taking a break from stuffing his face to smirk down at you.

You shrink into yourself at his comment, the heat in your neck and face coming back like a tsunami. Your eyes stay fixed on your plate as you stiffly stab your fork into the pile of hash browns in the corner. You grumble out your response and pretend like you aren’t burning up from embarrassment.

“Shut up n’ eat your pancakes you freak,”

~~~~

taglist: @iyskgd

^let me know if you’d like to be added! :)

[h0ttestgrlinm0urgu3]

𝑺𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔

𝐓𝐢𝐦 𝐋𝐚𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐧

8teen+ ⚠️

[TW: threesome, black reader! but any1 can read, sub reader, bimbo reader!, voyeurism, use of (y/n) a couple times, daddy kink, Tim gets off on eating 😻, oral (f receiving) , no protection 🙅🏾‍♀️, dirty talk ig] if I left out any let me know

[Summary: your the campus bimbo who's caught the eye of Tim and Darryl]

'there she goes man' Tim says, pushing Darryl's arm to get his attention. 'fuuck,' Darryl groans, seeing (y/n) about to make her way past them.

both taking a deep inhale as she walked by them 'you think she's thinking of us as the wind grazes her ass in that short ass skirt' Tim questioned. catching Darryl of guard making him take his eyes off of the girl who did infact have on a "mini skirt," but it honestly was just a band of fabric rapped around her ass.

'you can't say shit like that in public' he replies looking around like he didn't approve of what Tim said checking to see who heard before smirking and dapping him up 'she most definitely do tho' he exclaimed as they started laughing.

and it was true for the most part. you had no clue who they were by name, but you'd seen them all the time even had class with em. you always saw them smiling and laughing when they thought you weren't paying attention, commenting about what you were wearing, even going as far to talk about your ass. You had no problem being their entertainment when they came around. They were fine as fuck and it was much better than the creepy janitors.

making your way to your Anthropology class that you honestly just took for an easy A, and if you didnt at least make that you wouldn't be bored for a good hour and 30. win, win , actually make that win, win, win, because you just so happen to share this class with Darryl.

it honestly was a complete accident but why not take what they universe gives. that's exactly what you do as you sit in the front of class, not taking notes but playing with the fur ball on your pen imagining just how many ways you could be slutted out right now.

your chair was moved back from the desk you sit at so you can comfortably cross your legs, no work on your desk, just your pink juicy bag.

you can feel his eyes on you as you adjust in the uncomfortable chair provided by the school. feeling him as he takes in the new skin revealed by your readjusting. as he admires how the low lighting makes your look almost edible. how your skin glowed, he could imagine how it felt from here.

☆

just as the teacher finishes answering a students questions the bell rings, prompting her to put away her pen and ready to leave. Darryl speeds up putting away his notes to catch up to her just as she exits the class.

'hey' he calls out getting your attention, making you turn around to meet him. 'I see you don't really take notes in Anthropology, so if you wanted to have mine, I'd be happy to give them to you,' he says notebook in hand. 'I couldn't possibly do that, you spent all class taking those notes, and there's bound to be a paper due.' you kindly decline, knowing you'd have no use for the notes even of a paper was due.

' oh well, yea that's no problem, who cares about a paper' Darryl replies making a face. ' this is Anthropology, I just write exactly what he says in my papers. what is it gonna be? wrong?'he jokes, making you laugh. 'here' he says handing you the notebook.

'thank you' whispered trying to hold back a big ass smile but failing miserably. ' im (y/n)' you say reaching your free hand out to shake his.' Darryl' as he shakes your hand 'nice to meet you' he says with a fine ass smile on his face, not letting your hand go.

'and this is' he says turning you and pulling your back into his front. ' Tim LaFlour ' he introduces in a fancy voice. letting out a chuckle at him you introduce yourself to Tim.' how do you guys know eachother?'you question 'were roomstes' Tim asnwers. 'cute' you reply with a laugh, you guys talk for a little before they invite you to have lunch with them.

it's a cute dinner not to far off of campus 'you guys live close to here?' you ask as you grab a fry. 'yea why, wanna spend the night' Tim Jokes, well he might be joking. ' why' you say tilting your head 'ya think I'm that easy tim' you pout. 'aww what never' he says sarcasticly, although it might be offensive he's not wrong. let them invite you over and your coming, in a heartbeat.

Darryl throws a fry a Tim 'ow'. 'don't listen to him, he's just mad he's that easy' he says making you all laugh. 'what not baby Tim Tim' you fake surprise holding your hand over your heart. 'no see its different, ive denied myself of all pleasures so now I can freely indulge in them.' he explained like it was common knowledge. 'okay, sure' as you laugh with Darryl.

☆

welp they did end up inviting her over, honestly at first she wasn't going to do anything, she was gonna make them wait for it, but making them wait for it means she'd too also have to wait for it .. and as Tim said we've been denied long enough might as well indulge, that's basically what he said so it counts.

so that's how she found herself being carried into their shared apartment by Tim as they made out making their way to the couch. waisting no time Tim began to undress the both of them.

watching as they finally rid themselves of their clothes Darryl sat in the chair across from the couch. watching as Tim dropped his hand to her pussy rubbing over her entrance collecting her juices on his fingers and her moans in his mouth as he hungrily kissed her.

feeling his pants tighten as Tim broke the kiss with (y/n) finally allowing her moans to be put on full display as he started to devour her from the inside out. lapping up the juices that collected on her pussy and letting his index and middle finger slip into her entrance forcing out a breathy 'fuck' from her lips.

bringing one hand to cover your mouth as Tim pushed your thighs up to your shoulder. removing his mouth from you 'hold them' before going back to your pussy. listening and holding your thighs to your shoulders with your free hand. not noticing Darryl rising from his chair and making his way over to you. grasping your hand in his taking it from your mouth and placing it over his buldge in his jeans 'baby why you wanna be quiet when you making me feel like this' he says before squating to meet your face.

bringing your hand in his up to his lips leaving a soft kiss. 'look at that baby'using his other hand to support your head so you could look as Tim eats your pussy like a five star meal, his fingers disappearing and reappearing like magic, and that's exactly what it felt like.'don't stop daddy please' you moan as Darryl lets your head fall back.

still holding your legs up like the good girl you were, you knew your orgasm wasn't far off when Tim removed his fingers gripping your ass and burying his face is your pussy. Darryl leaves kisses along your thigh as he watches his roommate make your cum on their shared couch.

'fuck I'm gonna cum' you say releasing your thighs thinking that'd subtle the pleasure only for Tim to grip under your knees removing his mouth from you raising up to his knees and thrusting his cock into you.

'fuck' you scream instantly cumming around him, tightening in ways that make Tim moan loudly as he starts to fuck into you. 'God I'm gonna cum' he whimpers speeding up his thrust before he stills fully in you letting his cum spirt into you..

your mind goes blank and it's possible you've just witnessed judgment day in 4k.

it's not long before your feel Tim slide out of you. Hearing snapping you open your eyes to see Darryl infront of you 'thought we lost you for a sec, you think you can go again baby?' he questions kindly, moving your hair off of your sweat covered forhead as you nod 'yes' you say 'please'.

he chuckles removing his shirt not to shortly followed by his jeans. left in his boxers you see just how turned on he was. cock hard and leaking. you sit up grabbing the waist band and reaching your hand into his boxers to pull him out, admiring everything about him.

leaning forward to lick his cock he stops you before you can get a taste. ' not what I want baby' he states. moving you like you were light as a feather over the shoulder of the couch collecting the mixed fluids on your pussy with his tip before pushing Into your entrance.

letting out a moan as you gripped the couch. 'fuck daddy' pushing your ass back onto him. groaning as you take him the rest of the way in he throws his head back 'fuck baby' he groans, letting his eyes look over to Tim who now occupies his previous seat, letting his hand lazyly stroke his cock. 'fuck' Darryl moans taking his attention back to you placing his hand at the center of your arch. letting his other hand find home in the hair on the back of your head.

he started off slow just grinding into you, moving to taking the base only out and grinding back into you, slowly taking more and more out each time. when he finally gets to the tip he moves his hand from your back, snaking it over you're stomach letting the other fall from your hair to your throat as he starts to rapidly thrust into you giving you no time to prepare.

'oh my god- oh - fuck fuck fuck- god' is all you can let out along with pathetic moans as he fucks into you the way you needed to be fucked.

feeling his pace stutter and his cock pulse as he leans down onto your shoulder not letting up for a moment 'come on baby I can feel you, you wanna cum' he says as you tighten in attempt to hold off your orgasim. ' cum on daddys dick, please baby, god, wanna feel you cum baby' as he speeded up fucking you into your orgasm. following right after. releasing a deep groan while fucking his cum deeper into you before pulling out.

looking over to Tim he sees that his hand and stomach were covered in cum. letting out a breathy laugh looking back to you.

"five minute break before round two?"

★★★

a/n:

leaves thoughts I don't know who I like it .

[verydeadaten]

Schedules

Based on this post.

Pyrrha: *with Yang* J-Jaune.

Jaune: *looking up from notebook* Pyr?

Pyrrha: *sweating* W-W-Would you be i-interested, I mean, um, me a-and Yang, um, w-we want...we want-WE-

Yang: Hey. *holds Pyrrha's hand* Don't worry P-Money, I got this. *kisses her cheek*

Yang: Loverboy! You know how me and Pyrrha have been dating for a few weeks, right?

Jaune: Yes, and I'm very happy it's been going well for the both of you!

Yang: Thank you. And you, Pyrrha, and me have been hanging with each other more than often, so we're good friends, right?

Jaune: I mean, you do invite me to third-wheel on your dates. I think we're a bit more than "good" friends, no?

Pyrrha: *red*

Yang: You cute little flirt, you.

Jaune: What?

Yang: Me and Pyrrha where thinking. Coul-

Pyrrha: COULD YOU DATE US?!?!

Jaune: HUH?

Yang: Whoa! Way to put it all out, babe! I'm proud of you.

Jaune: *blushing* C-Could you repeat that.

Pyrrha: Yang and me both decided we wanted you to join our, uh, relationship. We both lo...l-lov...we both really like you. You're smart and kind and handsome and determined andireallywanttokissyouonthemouthand-

Yang: Yeah, what she said. You're a real catch, Loverboy. And we want to reel you in. So...what do you say?

Jaune: Wow...really? I...I would love to be a part of you relationship.

Yang: YES!

Pyrrha: *nearly faints out of sheer happiness*

Jaune: But I can't.

Yang: What.

Pyrrha: *glass break sfx*

Pyrrha: Wha-Why not?!

Jaune: I'm too busy!

Yang: ...what.

Jaune: I can't date the two of you. I don't have the time.

Yang: Is this some kind of joke, Vomit-Boy? Because if it is, you need to get better material.

Jaune: It's not a joke! See? *pulls out piece of paper*

Pyrrha: What is this?

Jaune: My schedule.

Yang: Combat class...leadership class...cook for team? Frag time? The hell is that?

Pyrrha: Oh, that must be when he plays that shooty game he plays. Team...something 2?

Yang: What the? Training with Pyrrha? BABE! You've had alone time with him and you didn't invite me?

Pyrrha: I'm sorry!

Jaune: See? I'm really sorry girls. I'd love to date you, but my schedule's packed.

Yang: *seething with rage*

Pyrrha: no...NO! I WON'T ACCEPT THIS! JAUNE ARC! YOU WILL MAKE TIME FOR US BOTH!

Yang: Yeah!

Pyrrha: YOU WILL GO ON DATES WITH US!

Yang: YEAH!

Pyrrha: YOU WILL GIVE US GIFTS!

Yang: YEAH!

Pyrrha: AND YOU WILL MAKE LOVE TO US GENTLY ON A HOT SUMMER'S NIGHT!!!

Yang: YEA-wait what?

Jaune: But...but...I don't have the time!

Yang: Jaune, just do your work later in the day.

Jaune: But my sleep.

Pyrrha: Beloved, you wake up at the crack of dawn. You'll be fine.

Yang: And if it really is such an issue, just do your work with us. We mostly have the same homework, anyways.

Jaune: I...I never even thought of that.

Pyrrha: *sighs* You're such a silly, silly man.

Yang: Hey, he's our silly, silly man.

Jaune: Yeah! I mean, we are a thing now, right?

Yang: Damn straight! Now, get on your bed.

Jaune: Huh?

Yang: You see, Loverboy, you got me and P-Money over here really stressed out with your, "schedule shenanigans," and we need to cool off.

Pyrrha: *nodding head*

Yang: When we're stressed, we usually cuddle each other. But why do that when we have this big, blonde, hunky teddy bear in front of us? You feel me?

Jaune: *blushing* Y-Yeah. I, uh, I feel you.

Yang: Oh you'll be feeling us alright.

Jaune: *very red*