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gunilslaugh · 1 year

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Hello! First time requesting, kinda nervous 🙃.

Can I request a royal au of some sort? I have three ideas, you can choose ☺️. (For the third option, you can choose the member. I would like a scenario like that for all of them, but I don’t want to overwhelm you.)

Option 1: How would Xdinary Heroes react to you being a runaway Princess?

Option 2: How would Xdinary Heroes react to a Princess wanting to marry them? (Not just like the Princess sees some rando and goes “I want to marry HIM!” Like XH members be royal staff,(royal adviser, guard, servant, etc.) A childhood friend. (that’s all I can think of 😭)

Option 3: A Friends to Lovers kinda situation. Either something like forbidden love, with XH member of your choice being royal staff. (King & Queen want her to marry another royal) with them ending up together in someway. (I don’t like angst. MY POOR HEART CAN’T HANDLE THE SAD!!) Or the Princess being friends with her personal guard, (Member) finds out that her parents want her to marry a prince from another kingdom, but she refuses, and confesses to her guard, wanting to marry him, if that makes sense?

Sorry for the long request haha

have a wonderful day/night

Hello! Don't be nervous I like writing request lol. I also liked all of your ideas, so I noted down the other two options because I want to come back and write them some other time :) Have a wonderful day/night as well!

All members < µ • µ >

Summary: Xdinary Heroes reaction to a princess wanting to marry them.

WC:~3.6k (Apparently I'm incapable of writing a short royal au)

Warning:grammar

photo not mine credits to owner.

Gunil

Gunil is your personal guard that you befriended over the years. The two of you have gotten really close. Maybe even a little too close, since you found that you have fallen for Gunil.

“Princess, their majesties are requesting your presence in the throne room,” Gunil knocked on the outside of your door.

“Ok,” you answered, heading towards the door. Gunil opened the door for you allowing you to exit.

“You know you can just call them my parents…I also know how to open a door,” you told him playfully.

“Opening a door is an act of chivalry and it’s clearly stated in my contract to address them as majesties or highness,” Gunil responded promptly.

“If only I’m around then. I won’t tell on you,” you nudged his side.

“Duly noted,” Gunil gives you a playful look. The two of you arrived at the doors to the throne room and Gunil opened them for you.

“Mother, Father,” you politely greeted your parents.

“Great y/n you’re here. We have something to discuss with you. Take a seat,” your father says. You went over to your throne and sat down. “Y/n, you’re at the age where you should start considering marriage. We’ve already sent some letters to other royal families. We’ve received a few responses about some princes who wish to meet you,” Your father informs you. Your heart sank. You didn’t want to meet other princes, definitely didn’t want to marry them. If you were going to marry anyone you wanted it to be Gunil.

“What if I already have someone that I want to marry?” You asked tentatively.

“Oh, is it the prince from the ball last time? The one who lives in the next kingdom over? The two of you did seem to get along well,” your mother smiled warmly.

“No, he lives much closer than that,” you informed, causing your parents to look at you a bit confused. “It’s Gunil. My royal guard. I want to marry him,” you disclosed, looking at your lap.

On the outside of the throne room door Gunil hears your confession. He wasn’t eavesdropping. You can simply hear the conversation from outside of the door and his job was to guard that said door, so it was inevitable. Truth be told, Gunil wanted to marry you too. He had also fallen for you. He knew that it was wrong, he was your royal guard after all. His job was to guard you, keep you safe, not fall in love with you. However his heart didn’t seem to care for that last part.

“Gunil! Please enter!” Your father summoned Gunil. You immediately grew more anxious. Gunil himself felt anxious too, he took a deep breath before entering.

“Yes, your majesty?” Gunil questioned.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to fire you,” he told Gunil.

“Father! You don’t have to do that,” you hurried to interject.

“No, no, my future son in law shouldn’t be working as a royal guard,” he states. Son in law? Does that mean? “That is of course if Gunil is willing to take your hand in marriage,” he looks over to Gunil. “Will you?” He asks him.

“Of course” Gunil approaches you, taking your hand in his. “Honestly I’ve long harbored feelings for Princess y/n, but that wasn’t professional, so I never acted on them,” Gunil revealed. “Will you marry Y/n?” “I’ll get you a ring later,” he chuckled.

“I’d happily marry you any day,” you tell him.

“Then it’s settled,” your father smiled, patting Gunil on the shoulder.

“Ooh I can’t wait to plan the wedding!” Your mother squealed.

Jungsu

Jungsu worked as a servant at your castle. He was young, around your age, so you naturally gravitated towards him. You didn’t really have any friends, due to spending most of your time inside the castle walls. At first Jungsu was a little nervous about interacting with you. Servants weren’t really supposed to interact with the royal family outside of doing their assigned duties. You assured Jungsu that it was ok, saying you’d assigned him to be your friend if you had to. After that the two of you started to bond. Your parents were actually happy to see you two getting along. They knew that you tended to get lonely and were happy that you finally had someone to keep you company. That’s why they pretend to not know about your secret late night meetings at the pavilion.

Presently, you, your mother and your mother’s friend who happened to be a queen from another kingdom were having tea out in the garden. Jungsu had just poured your cups of tea.

“Thank you,” you smiled at him.

“My pleasure,” he bowed his head at you. Your mother noticed the way you two looked at each other lovingly. She found it adorable how coyly you two acted.

“You know our children are at the age of marriage,” your mothers friend brings up.

“Indeed they are,” your mother said. Your nerves began to bubble up at the talk of marriage.

“Maybe we should set the two of them up,” she spoke, causing you to choke on your tea. You know that the prince is a nice guy, but you don’t want to marry him. Honestly, you wanted to marry Jungsu. With time you two spent together. Staring at the stars while having late night talks at the pavilion. You had fallen in love with him. Although you didn’t get your hopes up about being able to be together with him because you know that his status wouldn’t make your relationship a desirable one to others.

“Oh honey be careful,” your mother patted your back.

“I’m sorry,” you excused yourself.

“As much as it would be nice to set our children up. I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. My daughter already has someone in mind when it comes to marriage,” your mother tells.

“Who would that lucky fellow be?” Your mom’s friend asks.

“It will be announced soon,” Your mother says with a certain look in her eyes. The three of you finish your tea and bid your mothers friend a farewell.

“Mother, what did you mean by it will be announced soon?” You questioned.

“You love Jungsu don’t you?” Your mother checks. If you were still drinking tea you would have choked again. Jungsu, who was earshot away, heard this. He instantly felt relieved, he had too fallen for you, but due to his servant status he accepted that he could only be with you as a friend. He never imagined that your parents would support your relationship.

“How did you know?” You were surprised you thought you covered your feeling well.

“It’s in your guys eyes. They can’t hide the love you two carry,” she says. Jungsu comes over to clear your tea cups and saucers.

“Allow me this time, Jungsu. You can Y/n should talk,” your mother gestures for him to sit down. She takes the tray from Jungsu and takes the tea cups and saucers inside.

“I want to marry you Jungsu and my parents approve,” you told him.

“I heard,” he takes your hand in his. “I want to marry you too,” he places a kiss over your ring finger.

Gaon/Jiseok

Jiseok was a friend you made while attending the school for royals. You met during your first year there at the age of five and have remained friends all the way till now at the ripe age of twenty.

Currently you and Jiseok are both painting in the garden. You were each trying to paint the rose bush in front of you two. Jiseok took a peek over at your canvas and started to laugh.

“What is it?” You asked, curious about why he was laughing.

“Cause yours looks like that and mine looks like this,” he said, still laughing. You looked over at his painting and saw a more…abstract interpretation of the rose bush. You couldn’t contain your laughter.

“I like it. I’ll hang it in my room when it’s done,” you told him.

“I don’t think this is worthy of being displayed. Yours is though,” he said.

“You take it then,” you placed your brush down. “We can exchange them,” you told him.

“Princess y/n it’s time for your fitting,” one of the servants came to inform you. You sighed. The fitting was for a suitors ball, where all eligible royals would attend.

“Someone doesn’t want to go to their fitting,” Jiseok poked.

“I don’t want to go to the ball,” you clarified. You didn’t want to go to the suitors ball because the only prince you wanted was sitting right beside you, Jiseok.

“Why not?” Jiseok asks you. He didn’t want to attend the ball either and it was for the same reason as you. The only princess he wanted to marry was you. You were silent for a bit debating how you should answer. Every second that passed made Jiseok grow more anxious.

“The only suitor I’m interested in is you,” you finally spoke. Jiseok’s eyes widened in shock. His feelings were mutual, but he wasn’t expecting you to say it out loud. He quickly recovered from the shock.

“Then you should change your fitting to a wedding dress one,” Jiseok tells you.

“What?” You asked, taken aback.

“The only reason I was going to the suitor ball was to keep other princes away from you,” Jiseok admits sheepishly.

“Being engaged would definitely keep other princes away from me,” you hinted. Jiseok looks you in the eyes and smiles. He got up from where he was sitting, walked over the rose bush, plucking a rose from it. He walked back over to you and kneels in front of you.

“Y/n would you do me the honors of marrying me?” He asks you, handing you the rose. You carefully took the rose from his hand, lifting it to your nose to smell it’s floral scent.

“Yeah I guess so,” you said playfully. Jiseok lightly smacks your knee.

“Don’t make me take the rose back,” he threatens you, standing up. You held the rose closer to your chest.

“I’d happily marry you any day of the week,” you tell him. You stand up and hug Jiseok, careful not to damage the rose. The two of you stay embraced for a moment celebrating your engagement. “Come on, let's go tell them that we can no longer attend the ball,” you pulled away from the hug. Jiseok eagerly nodded, taking your hand.

“Mother, you will need to cancel my fitting,” you informed your mom.

“Why’s that dear?” she questioned, but she already knew the answer by looking at yours and Jiseok intertwined hands.

“Because she needs a wedding dress instead,” Jiseok told her.

“Took you two long enough,” she joked. “I’ll tell the tailor right away,” she smiled.

O.de/Seungmin

Your parents, the king and queen, were currently out of the kingdom to take care of some official business, leaving you to manage the kingdom for a while. Thankfully you weren’t alone, you had Seungmin, your family's royal adviser, to help you.

“Seungmin I don’t think that I’m cut out for this,” you sighed plopping down onto the couch inside of the study.

“What do you mean? You’re doing a great job princess I assure you,” Seungmin says. Your heart flutters at him calling you princess. It really shouldn’t, plenty of others refer to you using the name, but for some reason, because you're in love with him, it always makes your stomach feel warm when he calls you that.

“No, you’re doing a great job Seungmin. I’ve just done what you’ve advised me to do,” you stated. Seungmin comes over sitting beside you. Right beside you, so close your legs are touching.

“You’ve learned from it though havent you?” He asks. You nodded your head.

“See, you’re doing great then,” he reassures you.

“I’ve received letters about princes asking for my hand in marriage,” you brought up. Seungmin’s chest tightens at the news. He should be professional about you. You are at the age of marriage, however he heart doesn’t want him to be professional about it. It wants him to be selfish about it. That the only person he advises you to marry is himself. “What are your thoughts on that Mr. Advisor?” You question. A brief small comes onto his face at your use of the nickname. The nickname also lets him know that you’re being serious. Ironically enough you call him by that nickname whenever you need advice about a serious matter.

“Do you want to get married?” He starts off with a more broad question, thinking it’s a safer choice.

“If it’s to one certain person then yes, but if it’s not him then no,” you answered. Seungmin’s heart fell. Did you already have someone else in your heart?

“Who is he? As your advisor I need to make sure that he’s good enough,” he tries to keep it professional.

“I think you’d definitely approve of him,” you tell him. Your answer grows Seungmin’s curiosity.

“Then tell me his name,” he prods you. His heart is beating fast, something it usually doesn’t do. He’s supposed to remain calm, but when it comes to you that’s a hard battle for him.

You leaned closer to Seungmin to whisper in your answer in his ear.

“You,” your breath grazed across his ear. You lean back to see his reaction. Seungmin takes in a sharp breath and looks at you, locking eyes. Then he breaks out into a smile.

“You’re right I definitely approve of him,” he confirms. “How long have you wanted to marry me?” He quizzes you.

“I always thought that you were cute the second my father first introduced you. One time I saw you helping a maid who dropped a tray clean up and I don’t know if something about it made me fall for you,” you told him.

“That’s kinda funny,” Seungmin began. “I once saw you helping the gardener clean up a bag of compost that got spilled in the garden. You got it all over the bottom of your dress, soil covering your face from you accidentally wiping your hands on it, but you still like the most beautiful girl I ever saw and now I get to keep you by my side,” he wrapped an arm around you.

Junhan/Hyeongjun

Hyeongjun was a guard at your palace. He was quiet, didn’t talk too much. It led to people taking him to be cold and stern, but only if they knew the real him, like you do. His quietness is what drew you towards him. It made you curious about what he was really like.

One night you were crying inside of your room. Your parents had scolded you about how you need to be better. Behave more maturely, more princess-like. You needed to take your responsibilities more seriously. It was time for you to be a proper princess. Little did your parents know that you were already trying your best.

“Princess y/n, are you alright?” Hyeongjun’s voices called from outside of your bedroom. It surprised you. You didn’t think that out of all of your staff he would be the one to reach out and comfort you.

“I’m fine,” you sniffled out, it wasn’t very convincing. It pulled on Hyeongjun’s heartstrings seeing, well hearing technically, you cry.

“May I enter?” He asked for your permission. You quickly tried to wipe away your tears.

“Yes, you may,” you allowed him access. He stepped into your room seeing your upset state. He frowned and walked over next to you. He sat down on your bed beside you and guided your head onto his shoulder.

“You can cry princess, let it all out. I’m here for you,” he said. That’s all it took for your held back tears to flow again. It was that night that you opened your heart to Hyeongjun. That night you realized how kind Hyeongjun actually was. That it wasn’t coldness that made him so quiet, but rather shyness.

Hyeongjun always took care of you and ended up becoming a personal guard for you instead. You were ecstatic when this happened because it meant that you could spend more time with Hyeongjun. You had certainly fallen for him.

The two of you currently sat in the library of your place. Each of you were reading your own respective books. It was a hobby the pair of you enjoyed doing together.

“I want to marry you Hyeongjun,” you randomly declared, breaking the comfortable silence that encompassed the library. Hyeongjun clumsily dropped the book from his hands, it landed on the floor with a thud.

“Princess y/n I don’t think that’s acceptable. A royal guard and a princess,” he states.

“My mom told me that I should marry whomever I please and I please you Hyeongjun,” you told him.

“But princess others would-” he started.

“Don’t think about others. Think about yourself. How do you feel about me?” You questioned him.

“I’d like to marry you too,” he confesses. “I’m sure that you can tell that I care about you. I always want to take care of you. Whether it be as a royal guard or something more,” he confessed.

“I’d prefer it be the latter,” you smiled, closing your book and making your way over to Hyeongjun. Once you made it over to Hyeongjun he took both of your hands in his and kneeled on one knee before you.

“Then y/n, would you marry me? I promise I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life,” he proposes.

“Of course I’ll marry you Hyeongjun. I think I wanted to marry since that night you comforted me in my room all that time ago,” you accepted. Hyeongjun stands up, hands moving from your hands to your shoulders.

“I’ve loved you since then,” he revealed. “It hurt my heart so much to know that you were crying in there all alone,” he added. You couldn’t contain your excitement and hug him tightly making him chuckle, but he hugs you back just as tightly.

Jooyeon

Jooyeon was your childhood friend. He was the son of one of your father’s friends, who also happened to be a king. At first your impression of Jooyeon was that he was annoying. He always tried to distract you whenever you two were having lessons together. Now however the two of you were peas in a pod. It was more odd for you to be apart. Royal staff would joke asking “Where’s the other one?” whenever it was just one of you doing something.

“When are you and Jooyeon planning to get married?” Your mother asked you when the both of you were doing embroidery together.

“Mom, what are you talking about!” You exclaimed embarrassed. You didn’t even know if Jooyeon liked you back. It only seemed natural that you fell for him over your many years of friendship. You’re not even entirely sure when it happened. You just know that one day while the two of you were skipping rocks in your pond you just knew that he was the one for you. Like something just clicked right into place. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with Jooyeon.

“Y/n, everyone knows that you two love each other. Both of our kingdoms have basically been anticipating your marriage since you were kids,” she tells you.

“Since we were kids? That’s a bit much,” you say, causing your mom to laugh.

“You both would make such a good couple. Plus I know that you love him, so don’t act like you don’t,” she points.

“Even if I do. I don’t know if he feels the same way,” you said, sounding a bit disheartened.

“He does.” she tells you earnestly.

“How do you know?” You put to question.

“Because I told her that I wanted to marry you when I was six,” Jooyeon announces, entering the room. Little did you know Jooyeon was standing right outside the room hearing your entire conversation.

Jooyeon long since knew that he wanted to be the one you marry. You had scolded him for not paying attention during a lesson, but all he wanted was your attention. It was during a ball celebrating one of his uncles marriages that he went to your mom and told her that he wanted to marry you. Saying that they would have to have a ball like this one one day for you and him. Your mother could tell that he meant it. Although he was only six, so she could only hope that those feelings he carried for you wouldn’t change. Much to her liking they never did.

“How much of that did you hear?” You questioned.

“I basically just indirectly proposed to you and that’s what you ask?” Jooyeon laughed in disbelief. You couldn’t hold your own laugh. He did just admit that your romantic feelings for him are mutual, but you wanted to know how much over the conversation with your mother he heard. It did sound ridiculous.

“Well depending on how much of our conversation you heard you would know that I want to marry you too,” you defended.

“Then it’s settled, we’re now engaged,” Jooyeon stated promptly.

“I don’t know, my ring finger looks loney,” you said, wiggling your ring finger. Jooyeon came over to you and picked up a spool of red thread. He carefully wrapped it around your ringer finger, typing a little bow on top.

“Until I get you a real one,” he told you. You smiled looking at the thread around your finger.

“Ok we’re engaged now,” you stated officially.

“I’ll work on the wedding invitations!” Your mother enthusiastically jumps up.

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pickalilywrites · 6 months

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104th Valentines day dance. Modern AU fic.

leave your love on the dance floor

104th trainee squad. high school au. 1558 words.

A small crowd of students has gathered on the dance floor, watching as Eren Jaeger and Jean Kirstein compete in an impromptu dance off. What had started as a competition for a girl’s attention has evolved into something more: a battle to flaunt their rhythmic prowess. The stakes? There are none. The judges? Nobody, save themselves because both boys are convinced that anyone else who has an opinion is biased in some way. The prize? Presumably the praise of Mikasa Ackerman, who had abandoned the battle two minutes in because sweaty teenaged boys flailing around underneath bright lights can only be interesting for so long.

“Is that all you got, Kirstein?” Eren pants as he spins around and strikes what he thinks is a slick pose. His movements have lost their earlier crispness. Each movement bleeds into the next as he hurriedly thinks up his next move before his mind goes completely blank.

“I’m just getting started,” Jean growls, but he takes a few beats to catch his breath before he begins a series of isolations that start from one hand and travels to the other: the fingers of his right hand connecting to the fingers of his left moving in a wave that travels across his arms and then back again. Once the wave meets at his fingers once more, his whole body shivers and his body moves robotically. It would be impressive if he hadn’t done the same move three times that night already.

By now, their classmates are less excited and more intrigued, curious to see which of the two will collapse first. They’ve set up a betting pool at the back of the gymnasium, but so far the bets are evenly split. There are a few bonus pools being set up with some of the more interesting ones being: how many times Jean will do the robot on the dance floor, which teacher will eventually break the two up, and how much sweat is going to bleed through Eren’s dress shirt.

Ymir’s arm is slung across Historia’s shoulders. The two are observing Eren and Jean’s dance off like the other students, but they’ve chosen to stay in the corner of the gymnasium rather to avoid the mass of sweaty bodies underneath the bright lights of the dance floor. While Ymir is grinning with amusement, Historia’s upper lip is curled in disgust as she wonders how anyone could find this entertaining.

“Don’t they look like they’re trying to mate each other?” Ymir snickers. She glances towards the betting table. She’s already visited it multiple times to make different bets, each one more ridiculous than the next. “Do you think I can set up a pool on whether or not they’re going to fall in love with each other by the end of the night?”

“Ugh, I don’t know how they’re still going at it,” Historia says with a sniff. She carefully places a lock of hair that had fallen in front of her face behind her ear where it belongs. All the while, she scrutinizes Eren and Jean as they continue to dance. “I’d rather be dead than caught dancing like an idiot.”

“Really?” Ymir asks. She leans down slightly and grins cheekily at Historia. “What if you were dancing with me? Maybe in a place with a little more privacy?”

Historia rolls her eyes, but it’s impossible for her to suppress her smile as Ymir nudges her towards the back exit of the gymnasium. Eventually, she lets out a laugh and places a hand on the arm Ymir offers her and allows the brunette to guide her towards the exit for a dance away from any prying eyes.

Near the snack bar, Sasha is trying to stuff as many chocolates into her tiny purse as possible. Connie, as always, is her willing accomplice, looking over their shoulders every once in a while before shoving more chocolates into Sasha’s purse.

“What are you two doing?” Marco asks, startling Sasha so that a handful of her chocolates fall from her hand and scatter across the floor.

“Oh my god! Connie, you said you were looking for teachers,” Sasha hisses before bending down to gather the chocolates she’s dropped.

“Marco’s not a teacher,” Connie protests before stooping down to help Sasha gather the fallen sweets. He looks up at Marco with a threatening glare. “You’re now an accomplice to our crimes. You snitch, you die.”

Marco disguises a laugh with a cough. He also kneels to help Sasha and Connie pick up the chocolates. “You know that these are going to melt, right?” he asks. He drops the remaining chocolates he’s gathered into Sasha’s giddy hands.

“What? No, they won’t. It’s not like I’m holding them,” Sasha says. To prove it, she holds open her purse for Marco to see. She takes a glance for herself as well and is horrified to see some of the chocolates oozing out of their shiny wrappers. “Oh no!”

“They melted? But they were barely in there!” Connie cries. He’s as equally horrified as Sasha.

Marco presses his lips together as he tries hard not to smile at his friends’ childishness. “You know, we could go shopping tomorrow. Valentine’s chocolates usually get a huge discount the day after.”

Sasha and Connie immediately stop morning and look to Marco, clinging to his sleeves with their eyes shining with excitement. Sasha’s earlier frown is now stretched into an ecstatic smile. “You’ll really buy us all the chocolate we want?” she asks.

“Ah, that isn’t what I said,” Marco says with a nervous laugh, but he doesn’t want to kill his friends’ vibes so he doesn’t outright deny them all the chocolate their hearts desire. After all, how much chocolate can they eat before they get sick of it?

In another corner of the gymnasium, Reiner Braun has dragged his two unwilling friends to the photobooth. He’s decked them from head to toe with all the props and Valentine's Day accessories that the booth provided. He loves mementos and, in his excitement, doesn’t notice his friends’ lack of enthusiasm. He’s grinning from ear to ear, posing for one more “last photo” even though he’s been saying that for the past fifteen minutes and the line for the photobooth is growing longer and longer.

“Ah, Annie, you’re not smiling in this one either,” Reiner laughs as he examines the photo strip. He tucks it into the pocket of his blazer and throws his arms around Bertholdt and Annie, getting ready for another photo. “Let’s take one more and we can go. Smile this time!”

“I am,” Annie grumbles, but her mouth has been curved downward the entire night.

“Can we stop now?” Bertholdt asks through teeth that have been clenched in a smile the entire time. Even though he smiles, his eyes beg for someone to put him out of his misery. He clutches the pink stuffed bear Reiner had handed him earlier so tightly that the stuffing is threatening to burst through its hot pink seams.

“Just one more. I want to take a really good photo!” Reiner says, pulling Annie and Bertholdt even closer, oblivious to their groans.

In addition to the photobooth, the student council also had various games set up against the side of the gym for students to win Valentine's Day themed prizes: plushies, chocolates, and coupons for couples activities like movies or restaurants. Mikasa and Armin are currently occupying themselves at one of the games — a skeeball game where you can win after achieving a certain number of points. They had decided to play games rather than staying on the dance floor after watching Eren and Jean compete against each other. Mikasa had left because she didn’t find it interesting and Armin because he couldn’t watch without dying inside from secondhand embarrassment.

Mikasa is clearing out the entire prize inventory, much to the dismay of the booth manager who has subtly hinting for Mikasa to try out a different booth for the past five games.

“You have so many stuffed animals now,” Armin says almost wistfully as he gazes at Mikasa’s ever-growing pile of plushies. His winnings are abysmal in comparison. He has only one a small plushie the size of his palm. “Where are you even going to keep them?”

“They’re for Eren,” Mikasa replies before throwing another ball directly into the center hole, once again scoring enough points to win another large stuffed animal.

“Oh,” Armin says.

Mikasa notices Armin’s crestfallen face. She takes a moment to gesture for the booth master to get her one of the remaining stuffed animals: a large dolphin. Instead of adding it to her bag of prizes, she instead presents it to Armin. “This one is for you, though,” she tells him.

“O-oh!” Armin stammers, his cheeks turning pink. He looks at the only prize he’s won, a fluffy pink bunny holding a red heart. He offers it out to Mikasa shyly. “You should have this one then, Mikasa.”

Mikasa trades her dolphin for Armin’s bunny stuffed animal. She touches the soft fabric of the bunny’s ear, rubbing it between her fingers with a smile on her face. “Thank you,” she tells Armin. Her gaze rests on him, eyes filled with affection. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah,” Armin says as he feels himself fill with warmth underneath her gaze. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

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ramen8baka · 1 year

Text

Eren Yeager x reader :D

summary: eren meets a interesting girl while working at his uncle’s corner store over winter break

tw/notes: no tw; modern day au, you guys are in 11th grade

Eren pov

I look around at all the candy bars in the counter. damn, the dude really has a lot of candy. I was at my uncle’s corner store and it was winter break for me. My parents said it’d be good for me to get out of the house for once so they sent me here. I guess i’ve made some cool friends though. I don’t mind working here except the fact that on the weekends I take the late shift. So here I was at 1 o’clock am. Just as I was about to close since we hadn’t had customers in the past hour, the bell chimed. in walked a girl who seemed to be a regular customer considering she walked immediately to the fridges in the back and looked like she knew where everything was. I couldn’t see her face yet until she came to the front counter to check out. and man, she was pretty. really pretty.

“hello!” She chimed cheerfully

“hey, is this all?” I gesture to the star berry slushie and bag of takis. “yup. But hey, I haven’t seen you around here before. You just got hired or sum?” She tilts her head

“Well I guess you could say that,” I laugh “this is my uncles shop. I’m sure you know him though. But my parents sent me here for over winter break. my name’s eren by the way” I explain as i scan her stuff. “oh cool. I’m y/n! Anyways I should get going. See ya tomorrow” she does the three finger wave thing and heads off. “Yeah… cool” i say as I smile to myself, knowing she already left. ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was the next night, or should I say morning. I was waiting for y/n to come in again. I figured she might get the same thing again considering she’s a regular customer. I hear the bell chime and look up to see the same pretty face that I saw last night. “hey eren,” she says as she walks by the desk.

“damn, why do you come in here so late?” I ask

“my sleep schedule is messed up already” she laughs. She goes the fridges in the back and returns about five minutes later with another slushie and you guessed it- a bag of Takis. “how was your day?” I try to make conversation.

“eh, could’ve been better” she shrugs.

“mine too. It’s goin good now that you’re here though” I smirk. y/n just rolls her eyes.

“Come on, dude! I just met you yesterday and you’re already flirting”

“isn’t that how it works?” I hand her her things.

“I guess, I usually don’t move that fast though. I barely know you and you barely know me” she says.

“alright, then how bout we exchange numbers and we could get to know each other better” i smile

“tch, fine” she gives a small pout. Cute, I think to myself. “give me your phone then” I freeze. Holy crap, did I actually just get this chick’s number? We exchange phone numbers to hopefully start ‘talking’ more. And that was that. She left and I sat there dizzy with singing birds on my shoulder. •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• It was 2 weeks later and me and y/n had become surprisingly close. We hadn’t really hung out outside of my uncle’s shop. But when she came in tonight I already knew what she wanted. A medium watermelon slushie and takis. I had it all ready on the counter for her and as she passed the counter she spun back around with a confused expression. “what?” Is all she said.

“what?” “did you get all my stuff for me already?” She asks, shocked.

“well yeah you get t he same shit every night. Or should I say morning.” I smirk. She pays and we just chill for awhile and talk about random stuff. I keep zoning out on her features until I hear her telling my name. “eren!! I’m gonna go now, alright? But you should text me later so we could hang out” She yells

“oh, my fault i zoned out for a sec”

“clearly” she giggles. She waved as she exits the store. Oh man, I really like her

y/n pov: ding

my phone goes off, waking me up. I really gotta fix my sleep schedule, I think. It was a text from eren.

Eren🙀🙀

y/n!!

wake up bro 😂

why r u up so early

it’s literally 12:30 pm⁉️ good job telling time??

Omfg 🙄

anyways

anyways what

wanna hang out?

like we were saying the other night

oh sure! I’m free any time 🤷‍♀️

aight cool

I’ll send u the addy rq

You hearted eren😍🫣’s message

I pulled up to a well kept looking house with beautiful plants and bushes in the front. damn, who’s keeping his landscape this nice? I rang the doorbell and a familiar tall, brunette boy stared at me. “you’re finally here!” He chuckled

“oh c’mon I didn’t take that long” I roll my eyes.

“well at least you’re here. I guess you need awhile to get all pretty anyways” I blush. “Are you calling me pretty?” I ask

“oh, sorry have I never told you that before?” He smirks. he leads me inside and upstairs to his room.

“wow it’s nice in here. Your room is cool” I look around at all this posters, led lights, furniture, etc.

“thanks. What do you wanna do?” He asks. “I dunno maybe watch a show or YouTube or sum?” I suggest as I lay on his bed. Eren laughs again. “Getting comfy already?”

“yup!”

“This movie is so boring” I yawn

“yeah..” eren days quietly. I look over at him.

eren pov:

“why are you looking at me like that?” She says. ‘because you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen before. You’re so funny and have a great sense of style. Even if I only met you a couple weeks ago, I know that I want to be with you.’ But I didn’t say that. Not exactly. I pulled her closer to me by her waist and kissed her, telling her all that with one motion. When I pull away she looks up at me

“eren..”

“sorry! I didn’t know what to say so.. I really like you. You make me laugh all the time and you’re just so gorgeous. I love everything you do” I confess

“I-Eren you’re crazy” she kisses me again

hey everyone 😃 how are y’all

This idea randomly popped into my head so I hipe y’all enjoyed it and it wasn’t too cringey 😵‍💫

#Eren Yeager x reader #eren Yeager #anime #x reader #y/n #imagines #fluff

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xpeachesncream · 3 years

Text

lowkey (jjk) | 02.

⦿ boo’d up in the daytime

⦿ mackin’ & hangin’ in the nighttime

↳ series masterlist

summary: in order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, jeon jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the ways of dating.

pairing: popular!reader x nerd!jjk

genre: college au, fake dating au, friends (with benefits?) to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.2k

warnings: cussing, implied sexual content/mature language, kissy-kissy koo, mentions of a boner, mention of sex and cum, seokjin’s still toxic

note: posting this chapter a little early since it’s butter weekend, plus the last part of liquid courage should be up sat/sun. still sticking to my schedule in my faq though, srry loves! i’ll do my best to update as soon as i can. 💗

tags: @taegularities @jimidol @miinoongi @bluesharksandfish @ggukkieland @unicornbabylover @thebeebi @preciouschimine @ladyartemesia @moonchild1 @jikookiekosmos @marcoazz2 @kootaes @wearenot7withu @codeinebelle @bigbootyjoonie @thisartemisnevermisses @maichiverse @ppeachyttae @fairysunooo @secretlycrazyhummingbird @yukiehyukie

"I heard you were in an accident last night, babe. Are you okay? I'm so sorry I got mad at you yesterday." Seokjin comes towards you, cupping your face to look at every inch, every detail. You move away from his hold, backing up to give yourself some space.

"Seokjin, I told you to stop calling me that. Jesus. I'm fine. Don't need you to check up on me."

"Are you really gonna keep that up? I said I was sorry."

"Okay, and? I heard you."

"Really, that's it? Y/N, why are you being like this? What's the real reason?" He follows after you as you make your way to the library. To say Seokjin was persistent is an understatement— he was persistent for the wrong reasons. Like, keeping you close so he had you to fall on when things went wrong with another chick, his safety net.

"Because this is done, I don't know how many times I have to tell you. I'm tired of you doing this so, please. Just go." You slightly turn towards him as you climb up the stairs.

"I wanna work this out with you. Don't push me away. Let me help." You don't respond. He watches as you adjust your bag strap and wave at Jungkook. Seokjin chuckles and grabs your wrist gently, making Jungkook suddenly hop on defense as he balls his fists. Like he could do shit. Seokjin would probably wreck his ass with those broad shoulders.

Still. He hated how much of an asshole he was to you.

"Wait, what the fuck?" Seokjin laughs his rare, deep laugh that he uses when he's caught off guard. "You're hanging out with nerds, now?"

"And if I was, that would be none of your business." You snatch your arm away while glaring at him. You shake your head and continue walking towards Jungkook, relieved Seokjin finally left you alone today. Probably off to tell Namjoon, Yoongi and his friends how much of a bitch you've been and that you actually left him to hang out with a nerd.

Sunmi knows you're being tutored. However if that wasn't the case, she would question you, but she never take their side on shit. She remained loyal to you, and always supported you through whatever. That's why she's remained your bestfriend until this day. The senior chicks Seokjin and them hung around with though? Questionable. As long as Sunmi was by your side and you by hers, you both didn't care much for getting close to them.

"Hey, sorry you had to see that." You say as you sigh and set your bag down alongside of you on the long table.

"It's alright." Jungkook replies softly. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Thanks." You give him a tiny, tightlipped smile. "So, should we get right into tutoring, or should we talk about the details of our deal? I have all afternoon." Luckily, it was quite loud in the loud section of the library. No one cared much to listen in to your secret deal with Jungkook, nor did anyone care because it was Jungkook.

"I do too. I guess, whatever works for you?"

"Let's get this tutoring over with first then iron out the rest." He nods.

"Sure." He pulls out his notebook. "Tell me, what are you struggling with?"

"Everything." He does a small head tilt.

"I doubt that. I'm sure you understand some things."

"No, you don't understand Jungkook. I'm legit drowning. I don't know what I'm doing wrong or where I'm lacking." Jungkook simply looks at you, lips pressed together before he nods. You're not lacking anywhere, he thinks. You're really not. The subject is just shitty and the spawn of the devil.

"That's okay. Well, can I go over some basics? Throw in some tips?"

"Yes, please. Lead the way. I need you." You chuckled, but it makes the heat rush to his cheeks. He hopes you don't catch the rosy tint creeping up on them, so he instantly grabs at the whiteboard near your table and starts to go over the very beginning, the very basics of this semester's OChem class. Maybe a bit from last semester, but last semester wasn't entirely that bad compared to this one.

He didn't expect you to be all that engaged for some reason, but he should have known you'd ask questions left and right, taking the black whiteboard marker from his hand to practice what you've learned with him watching and guiding you from your side. You were always focused, always so determined. You were incredibly smart. Incredibly beautiful.

Honestly, Jungkook go on for days.

The both of you hadn't realized it was nearing close to 5PM and neither of you had really eaten much since lunch. You sit, feeling pretty good about your first session with Jungkook. You feel a little bad having kept him for so long over OChem, realizing you still had things to iron out with him.

[sunmi] 4:34pm: hey babe, not gonna be leaving for a bit. i forgot i had to work on this psych project with jennie. you okay with leaving around 6/7?

"Crap."

"What's the matter?" Jungkook glances at you as you continue to stare at your phone and scroll away.

"Sunmi isn't leaving until later. I'll probably be stuck here for a little longer after you leave." You put your phone down, now resting your chin against your palm, nails slightly digging into your cheek.

"I-I can give you a ride, if you'd like? Plus, we still need to talk.. about stuff." He shyly says.

"Jungkook, that's too much to ask for."

"It's really not a big deal. How far do you live from campus?"

"Maybe a 10 minute drive, the next exit off the freeway." He shrugs.

"I'm going in that direction too."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. We can just talk on the way home."

"Would you be willing to stop by for dinner? We can talk then. Maybe it can be considered our 'first date.'" You joke with a small giggle.

"Oh, sure. Yeah." He gives off a tiny, nervous laugh. "Where did you have in mind?"

"Can we get.. hm—" You hum. "Fire Wings? Down the street?" He almost feels intoxicated watching how your eyes gleam under the light, how they brighten and widen when you mention food. You were cute, and you didn't even know it.

"Only if you tell me what flavors you get." He tries to get smart, which makes you laugh. He made you laugh.

"Is this judgment day? Gonna see if you should call quits on our deal before it even starts?"

"Maybe." He goes along with it.

"Okay. Garlic Parmesan and Dragon." You pack up your things before shooting him a look.

"Okay, solid flavors." He nods. "I guess we can continue on."

"You're funny." You giggle as you both throw your bags onto your backs. You stay in your position until Jungkook comes to your side so you can walk by him. You don't know much about him, but he has a soft demeanor and he makes you feel comfortable. You had only seen him a couple of times across campus, not really noticing him much in class either. You feel a little bad knowing you didn't even try being that he sat behind you, but better late than never I guess? Maybe there was a reason for all of this happening. The way he tutored you today was insane, too— he was super smart, but broke it down perfectly, was patient. He was patient.

No wonder Dr. K loved his ass.

"What about you?" You picked up the conversation.

"I usually go for a dry rub and Garlic Parmesan."

"I haven't tried any dry rubs."

"You can try one of mine later."

"Okay." You suddenly remember to shoot Sunmi a text before she comes looking for you everywhere on campus. Jungkook stays silent beside you, allowing you to do your thing without being too overbearing or nosy.

But, he honestly can't help but glance a few times.

[y/n] 5:11pm: sorry just saw this, hitching a ride with my tutor. don't worry about me! ty ily, have fun working on your project.

[sunmi] 5:13pm: tutor, as in jeon jungkook?

[y/n] 5:15pm: yeah, he offered.

[sunmi] 5:16pm: okay, that was nice of him. if he tries anything tho i'll beat his ass. text me when u get home?

[y/n] 5:17pm: don't worry about him, he won't lol i will.

[sunmi] 5:18pm: kk love u b

"Sorry." You say, tucking your phone into your pocket. "Had to text Sunmi."

"That's okay. You two are really close, right?"

"Yeah, since high school."

"Cool." At this point, Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok are coming out of the café at the same you two are passing.

"What about you, where are your friends?"

"Um." He sighs, trying to avoid his friends obnoxiously waving and calling him from the distance. You glance over from behind his figure, chuckling a little bit. "That's them."

"Cute. You all are really close, too?"

"Ya, I've known Jimin the longest though." You smile and wave at them, causing them to gasp and whisper amongst each other with huge smiles on their faces.

"I'll need to meet them if we're gonna do this thing for real. Do they know?"

"Yeah kinda."

"That's okay. We should probably work on keeping it between us though." He nods.

"Okay, but. Can we save meeting them for later? They're a bit.. much." You smile.

"Sure."

"D-do I have to meet Sunmi?" You nod.

"If you wanna make this believable, yeah."

"She's kinda scary."

"Jungkook, she's not gonna bite your head off. She just has that look, but I promise she's sweet." That look, that resting bitch face. Really, you could be biased because it's Sunmi. She really only had issues if she felt disrespected. Other than that, she meant well. Same with you— you've been accused of being intimidating and having the same look but you don't mean any harm by it.

"Okay." Jungkook unlocks his black 2016 Honda Civic and pops his bag in the trunk. You do the same, while Jungkook goes to open the passenger door for you.

"Thanks." You smile sweetly at him. He climbs into his seat, hitting the button to start the car and sighs. The music in the background starts to play, and it sounds mellow, soothing— like it came straight out of a fairytale. His eyes widen as he rushes to lower the volume before shyly looking at you.

"Sorry."

"What, no. Don't be. What is this?"

"A Final Fantasy lofi mix." He begins to drive off as you turn the volume back up.

"It's nice. Pretty relaxing."

"Ya, it's nice to listen to after a long day." He pushes his glasses up at the light.

"Do you have family here?" He nods.

"I do. My mom and dad live about an hour away. I'm the only child. What about you?"

"Same. They're probably 30 minutes up north."

"Do you live alone?"

"Yeah, I live in a studio. It's actually my coworker's. She bought the space to rent it out. She lets me rent it for pretty cheap though."

"That's nice."

"You?"

"I live with Jimin. Our parents are close."

"What about your other friends?"

"Hoseok is dorming, and Taehyung would rather live back home with his family and commute. He's close to them. He'll crash at ours or Hoseok's from time to time."

"Are you close to your family?" He nods as he turns into the plaza lot.

"I suppose, yes. I'm just really quiet overall, so they think it's hard to read me sometimes." He parks and you watch as he shuts the car off with the same button. "You?"

"Yeah, I'm really close to my mom. Dad, a little questionable."

"Why, if I may ask?" He comes to open your door again, causing you to give him a small smile.

"He, um. Just got into some stuff." He watches as your body tenses while you fiddle with your fingers waiting in line.

"It's okay, don't think about it. I won't ask again."

"It's okay, Jungkook. Really. Maybe another time?" You look up at him and he nods. He stands way taller than you, almost at Seokjin's height, if not the same. He likes to wear baggy, dark clothing and doesn't do much to fix or style his hair.

He's simple, but in a good way.

You both order your food with Jungkook going first so he can grab a table afterwards. Before he could pay though, you offer to cover him for dinner as your way of thanking him for driving you home. You make your way over to the table he snags, Jungkook silently sitting at the high table with his legs pressed together and his hands clasped tightly on his lap.

"You okay?"

"Ya, why?"

"You look tense."

"Sorry. It's not everyday I have dinner with Y/N." You smile.

"Stop, relax." You watch as he slightly eases up. "So, this deal." He nods. "A month?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

"We have to convince people it's real or else people will know something weird is going on." You look at his hand, now resting on the table. "You're gonna have to hold my hand and kiss me, you know?" He swallows the lump in his throat. Shit, he thinks. Don't know if I can actually pull this off?

A kiss?! Fuck.

"Y-yeah."

"When was your last relationship, Jungkook?"

"8th grade." Your eyes widen.

"O-oh, now I see."

"What's that supposed to mean? It's terrible, I know but I—"

"No, no, no. You're good. It's totally okay, it doesn't matter. I'll just have to teach you to make it look realistic and not.. awkward." You perk up again. "Not saying that you are though, okay."

"I know."

"So, are you.."

"Am I..?" He cocks hid head to the side in confusion.

"Like.."

"Just ask Y/N."

"Are you a virgin?"

"I don't know." You furrow your brows.

"Huh?"

"Look, this is gonna sound really embarrassing and I don't know if I'm even ready to tell my fake girlfriend about it."

"Just say it. We have to know things about each other." He sighs.

"I— ugh." He groans. "I did it with my girlfriend at the time. Or I guess my ex because we had broken up and this was sometime during freshmen year in high school and she came onto me out of nowhere at a mutual friend's pool party. But it was weird because we were just hormonal kids and I was just curious so I slipped myself into her only to slip back out right after because—" He's rambling, but you're doing your best to keep up.

"Because?"

"I-I, ugh. Y/N." He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Are you really gonna make me say it?"

"Jungkook." You lean a bit to try and catch eye contact.

"I came right away." He says just as the worker puts down your food and takes the number from your table.

"Ohhhhhhh." You say as you nod slowly. "Okay."

"You can just run now." His head hangs low as he slowly slides his chicken over in front of him, causing you to chuckle.

"I'm not going anywhere. It's okay. Stop that."

"It's pathetic."

"No. Besides, I know you'll get better overall, and you'll find someone who will rock with you till the end. We'll work on this."

"Thanks." He says, feeling comfortable around you. You were quick to reassure him and smile at him, he felt himself melting in his seat. Yeah, you were too good for Seokjin.

"You'll have to come to parties with me. Club events. Events in general. It won't look right if I'm always going without you."

"Okay. Can I bring my friends?"

"Sure." He nods. "What do you do in your free time?"

"Play video games and listen to music. Read comics, manga. Build lego sets with the guys."

"Cute." You smile.

"You?"

"Hang out with Sunmi, or just watch movies on my own at my place. Read. Eat by myself. Explore by myself. I value my alone time."

"It's nice." Jungkook's familiar with it. Even if he had his friends around, he truly liked being in his own peace when allowed. "What about outside of the public eye?"

"Hm?" You hum.

"Do we hang out?"

"Yeah we can." You nod.

"Cool." He smiles.

"Is my car gonna be a lot of work for you?"

"Don't worry about it, it'll be good soon. Just might take a bit cause I need some parts to make it look brand new again."

"I really can't thank you enough." He shrugs.

"Only trying to help my girlfriend out." He boldly says, causing you to laugh.

"Confidence is peeking through already, are you sure you need me?" You joke. The rest of the evening, you continue to talk to Jungkook about pretty surface level shit— what you like, dislike, overall experience in high school and college so far. It was a nice, harmless conversation, one where you were starting to see how warmhearted Jungkook really was. How real and laid back.

None of the shit in Seokjin's group. It was refreshing, a breath of fresh air.

Once dinner had finally finished, Jungkook was on his way to drop you off. He had parked in an empty guest spot, offering to walk you up just to be sure. At the door, he took a peek at how clean your studio was, mainly soft colors of white and cream taking over, with plants scattered around your living room area. The hallway in was sandwiched between your kitchen area and another wall, Jungkook assuming your bed was on the opposite side of it. He awkwardly stands at the door, afraid of overstepping.

"Well, goodnight Y/N. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Hey, wait." You smile and come close to him. He swallows, his mouth suddenly feeling dry when he feels your breasts press against his chest. "First lesson— give me a kiss."

"Right now?"

"Jeon Jungkook, we're doing this tomorrow. People are gonna have to see this at least once while we're together." He nods and presses a quick kiss against your cheek. "Not bad, but a little longer?" He complies and presses another kiss, leaving his pillowy lips against your cheek for a little longer before pulling away. "Perfect. Now here." You point at your lips before crossing your arms.

"Y/N, I—"

"Don't be afraid, just do it. I won't kick you in the balls or anything."

"It's not that. I just don't think I'm a great at this stuff."

"Okay." You tippytoe and gently grab his jaw while you lean towards his face. "Just relax, okay? Don't think too much of it." He stays silent, doe eyes constantly on you as you continue to inch forward.

Sparks. Just sparks everywhere for Jungkook.

He feels your soft lips against his and he relaxes, moreso because he feels like he's lost all senses being this close to you. Taking in your scent. Kissing you.

"There." He stands still, still trying to process the kiss. "Not bad. We'll get better over time, but at least that looks believable. Just—" You put his hands down as they were about to fall onto your hips during the kiss, but they fell short. "Let it happen and hold me, okay?" You smile. "Night Jungkook."

"N-night." He stutters as he watches you close the door. "Fuck." He whispers to himself when he realizes he's now sporting a boner. "Jungkook, what the fuck is this?!" He continues to whisper to himself as he waddles down your hallway.

847 notes · View notes

earnestly-endlessly · 3 years

Note

*flies in like magneto* can i get some exes to lovers™?

Do I have some exes to lovers fics for you? Yes I certainly do. It seems that the cherik fandom loves some exes to lovers cherik and I don't blame anyone because this ship really calls for all the angst. I hope you enjoy this list.

Exes to Lovers AU

Bound – FuryRed

Summary: Is there anything worse than someone else’s wedding? Well, perhaps your sister’s wedding- where the groom just has to invite his boss and that man just happens to be your ex-boyfriend; a person you had an extremely passionate and tumultuous relationship with that ended badly.

Charles hadn’t seen Erik for a year by the time Raven had told him about the wedding. He wasn’t looking forward to the occasion, particularly when Raven explained that they would be celebrating the event with a two-week extravaganza at a luxury hotel, meaning that Charles would be forced to spend a whole fortnight with the man who he’d given everything to; the man who had ultimately broken his heart…

Preheat to 350 (just for you remix) – ikeracity

Summary: Charles realizes he's in love with Erik. But there's one tiny little problem: he just broke up with Erik.

Thread Through a Needle – Black_Betty

Summary: Erik and Charles are broken up. Neither of them want to be.

Carry Me Anew (Frost & Darkholme Remix) – kianspo

Summary: While working as a model for Raven and Emma's clothing line, Erik experiences a strong attraction to his shoot partner. These things happen, except Erik has a boyfriend, who does not take this at all well.

Linger like a tattoo kiss – ikeracity

Summary: Six months apart gives Erik a lot of time to think about what he really wants.

(Erik's POV from Carry Me Anew (Frost & Darkholme Remix) by kianspo)

Symphysis – ikeracity

Summary: After Charles and Erik broke up four months ago, Charles convinced himself he'd never see Erik again. But life has a funny way of bringing people back together.

Call/Response – phalangine

Summary: Charles and Erik have a real conversation for the first time since breaking up. Charles is looking to avoid confrontation. Erik is not.

Regression Therapy – Fantine_Black

Summary: O, God, he’d made a terrible mistake. Whatever he’d expected to find here, Erik was still Erik, a man he’d moved continents to avoid. In retrospect, that felt like a rather good idea…

Four years after Charles walked away from Professor Lehnsherr, the two meet again for a drink.

Because things are better the second time round, aren't they?

Forever is Only a Drunk Dial Away – bettysofia

Summary: Charles is sad and drunk and stalking Erik's Instagram.

Shop Space – Caradee

Summary: Charles and Erik break up but still meet at their favorite coffee shop and manage a completely friendly relationship. The kids who work the coffee shop don't understand it, Charles' overprotective twin brother doesn't understand it, and even Charles doesn't understand it. Then, Erik shows up with a new date, someone who seems to be everything that Charles is not.

How will the Professor handle the surprising heartbreak that comes seeing Erik with someone else?

Mutant House at Dead Kings College – mabyn

Summary: When it comes to romance, Charles has terrible timing.

Can You Feel My Heart – FuryRed

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr hates Charles Xavier.

It’s as true as the words written on the wall in the bathroom at the university that Erik attends. Erik sees them one day- accompanied by a crude drawing of Erik and Charles glaring at each other- and recognises the truth of the sentence, and smiles.

He hates Charles.

Probably…

Believe (One More Time) – luninosity

Summary: For the prompt, Charles and Erik dated during college and had a bitter break-up right before graduation. It's five years later and they both meet again at their class's reunion for a weekend. Someone was even stupid enough to have them room with each other for the weekend...

Old Flame Burning – TurtleTotem

Summary: It's ridiculous for Charles to dread meeting the best man at his sister's wedding, just because he shares a name with Charles's ex. It's not as though it could possibly be the same Erik.

Don’t speak to the bartender – Wild_Imagination

Summary: Logan is a bartender, it's a gloomy evening, and in his bar there's someone with a broken heart. But this is not a movie.

Right?

Somewhere I’m Going & Have Never Been Before – Yahtzee

Summary: In late December 1984, Charles falls victim to the terrible pandemic sweeping across the globe. He's sick, probably dying, and utterly alone in an isolated cabin...until he's not.

Walking in a Winter Wonderland – TurtleTotem

Summary: Charles hasn't seen Erik since their devastating breakup ten years ago. He's certainly the last person he expects to run into at a Christmas lights display.

Lean On Me – SpiritsFlame

Summary: Ten years ago, Charles and Erik split up, dividing their six kids between them. None of them expect them to meet at summer camp. And no one could have predicted the results.

It was a yellow umbrella spring – ikeracity

Summary: Three years after Charles left for Oxford, Erik discovers that Charles is coming back to New York.

Second chances are wonderful things.

My heart above my head – annejumps

Summary: Emma thinks her coworker Erik and her friend and fellow telepath Charles should get together. No one expects things to get so intense so quickly.

The Edge of What Doesn’t End – populuxe

Summary: When a mysterious object appears on the moon, Moira MacTaggert calls in two experts with very specific mutations to investigate.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, after years of breaking up and getting back together again, those two experts have finally broken up for good—and they’re the last people in the world who should be stuck together on a spaceship.

Exit Wounds – LemonadeGarden

Summary: It's been eight months since Charles and Erik had a fight that broke apart their marriage. When a mutant rights protest goes awry and Charles begins to get sick, past memories and present obstacles begin to blur the lines of their ideological differences.

Alternatively: Charles and Erik learn how to fall in love again in troubled times.

Note: Unfinished

11 Days, 8 Hours and 12 Minutes (or Bruises, Stupidity and Anger Management) – ximeria

Summary: For six months, Erik and Charles have been the disgustingly happy couple of the school. Considering their pigheadedness and general communication skills (or lack thereof), things are bound to go boom at some point.

Moon Song – ikeracity

Summary: Werewolf AU. When Charles is captured by hunters, Erik and his pack go after him. It turns out there might be some room for redemption left for both of them after all.

I will Never Stop Loving You – swoopswoop

Summary: Erik and Charles split up three years ago but Erik never really got over it and then one day when the man who walked out of his life three years ago is walking down the street towards him, Erik sees an opportunity to mend fences.

Please leave your message after the tone – ikeracity

Summary: Spending his evening getting shitfaced and pining over Erik seems like a totally productive use of Charles's time. Luckily, it turns out to be a better idea than it sounds.

When the Spell Breaks – kianspo

Summary: Erik, a high-profile lawyer with a successful career, meets a 21-year-old grad student in a bar, and within a few short months marries him. He and Charles are blissfully happy, until Erik's boss runs a background check on Charles and discovers he's been cheating on Erik. Charles denies everything, as there was no affair, but Erik doesn't believe him and throws him out. As Charles tries to figure out how to survive and stay at school that he can no longer afford and makes a lot of bad if not plain dangerous choices, Erik has to fight his own battle of discovering the truth and winning Charles back.

We have not touched the stars, nor are we forgiven (the things you love don’t last remix) – hllfire

Summary: Charles hands Erik the signed divorce papers, but Erik has changed his mind. Too late, it seems. All he can do is go forward with the divorce.

A year later, Charles comes back, and Erik can't help but wanting to see him. The only problem is things don't go like Erik had planned.

Suddenly There’ll Be a Blizzard (Let it Snow Remix) – kianspo

Summary: Charles was never at his best while jetlagged, but locking himself out in a snowstorm while barely dressed might be a new low. The last thing he expected was to be rescued by his high school nemesis, the man he hadn't seen in over ten years, who might have broken his heart for good once upon a time.

Write this number down (you can call it anytime) – pocky_slash

Summary: When Erik upsets his children, they have a habit of running away from home--and straight to Charles' school for cookies and consolation. Charles doesn't mind the visitors, but as they appear more and more frequently, he realizes that sooner or later, he and Erik are going to have to talk about what happened on the beach and what it means for their future and the future of Erik's children.

All we do is break up (and make up) – Stuckyl0v3r

Summary: "So instead of making the most out of this next months, because you don't know where either of you is going to end up, you decided to stay away from each other to get used to the feeling?" Hank summed up, stopping in front of the class. Charles nodded his head confidently and beamed at him, but somehow his smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Yes, something like that."

Well, that was the most idiotic plan Hank's ever heard.

Three wheels of cheese and a Great White – ximeria

Summary: Charles and Erik were friends with benefits in college.

They went their separate ways and 18 years later, they run into each other in New York.

The sex was never a problem back in college - and sex was all it had been. But now Erik is a divorced father and Charles has admitted to himself he needs more than just sex in a relationship. So in their usual round-about way they try to navigate becoming friends after so many years. The whole quest is aided by Raven, Edie, Wanda and Pietro (and a large number of shark jokes).

#cherik #cherik fic recs #fic recs #asks #earnestly answers #exes to lovers #ex boyfriends

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 3 years

Note

Prompt idea: Geralt gets a contract for a monster that has been sighted nearby. When he tracks it down, he is surprised to find mothman!Jaskier who (much like actual mothman) has an ass that won’t quit.

I just want you to know that Mothskier now lives in my head rent free 24/7. I love him. I would die for him. This is my new favorite emotional support au.

2k-ish words - please feel free to shove comments through the bars of my enclosure, I would really like that

art by the ever-wonderful @mawbwehownets, whose drawing of Mothskier made me legit cry.

tw: mild injury, brief blood mention, strangers to lovers

---

“So what you’re saying,” Geralt raises an eyebrow slowly, curious, “Is that you need me to catch a monster that’s half man and half moth?”

“Yup.”

“Alright,” Geralt pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. The frustrated Witcher takes a slow breath to calm and center himself, before he ends up botching the entire contract-writing process. Humans tend to grow attached to the strangest monsters sometimes, and apparently this mysterious local being was no different. “Let me get this totally straight, so there are no mistakes or misunderstandings. You want me to capture this man-moth and get it out of your woods, but you don’t want me to kill it?”

“He’s called the Mothman, and he’s pretty damn stubborn about sticking around,” the aging farmer corrects Geralt with a little frown. Then his expression shifts and he smiles in a way that seems almost apologetic. “We were hoping you could find a way to relocate him without hurting or killing him, Master Witcher.”

“That’s completely possible, if he isn’t attached to this specific patch trees by any magical or biological means. You said his natural habitat is just… the forest?”

“As long as there's an abundance of pine around he seems pretty happy. Before he came to live with us, Mothman lived in a heavily forested area up the coast; or at least that’s what the historical records and local mythology seem to indicate.”

“That’s actually pretty helpful information to have on hand, I’m impressed,” Geralt nods. “Alright, Mr. Stevens. I promise to relocate the poor thing without killing or maiming him, and I’ll be sure to take him somewhere far enough away that your crops won’t be in danger. Thanks for calling me first instead of just going straight to an extermination service.”

“Honestly, Master Witcher,” the farmer sighs and readjusts his dirty baseball hat, “If it weren’t for the mischief he’s been getting into lately, we would have let him stick around until spring. I hate to admit it to a man as strong and stern-faced as yourself, but the poor creature is almost… adorable at times.”

“Well that’s a first,” Geralt chuckles, honestly amused by the situation he’s found himself in. “A monster being referred to as ‘adorable’ rather than ‘terrifying’. I’ve never heard such a thing in my many years of life.”

“Then you’d better prepare yourself, Sir Geralt. He’s got a pair of big blue puppy-dog eyes that’ll knock you on your ass if you aren’t careful. And that’s coming from a man who raised three daughters with dimples.”

“Hmm. Fuck.”

---

Geralt knows enough about moths to come up with a plan he thinks will work.

Before he heads into the woods to find and capture the poor wandering creature, the Witcher takes a detour through the lighting section of the nearest Lowe’s.

---

Unfortunately for Geralt, the farmer was right about the power of Mothman’s puppy dog eyes, which are big and blue and begin to water as soon as the Witcher’s net knocks him to the ground. The creature lies in a whimpering tangle of limbs beneath the heavy, magically enhanced restraints. Geralt takes an opportunity to look at what the locals called "a cryptid".

Mothman has a long, lithe body that's covered in a light layer of grey-brown fur, but his hair resembles that of a human’s, falling over those enormous blue eyes in a lovely chestnut fringe. When Mothman sees the swords on Geralt’s back he cries out in panicked recognition and tries to pull his arms up far enough to shield his face. The lamp Geralt used to lure him into the clearing is still bathing him in a pool of yellow light; it’s almost pretty for a monster, Geralt notes.

As the Witcher takes a step forward, the cryptid squeaks and buries his face against his own shoulder. His entire frame is trembling.

“Hey there, shhhhh,” the Witcher murmurs quietly. He drops into a squat and holds both hands up to show Mothman that they’re weapon free. Tears are now falling freely down the creature’s surprisingly human face; whoever or whatever this is, they are likely some kind of Fae. “I’m not here to hurt you, I just want to get you back through the veil.”

“Liar,” Mothman huffs. His voice has a surprisingly musical quality to it and Geralt is now sure of his Fae parentage (or grand-parentage).

“I promise I’m not lying,” Geralt reassures him, slowly crawling forward. When he reaches for the nearest corner of the net, he feels all of Mothman’s muscles go tense. “I’m going to lift this up and I am going to restrain you, but I swear that I’m not going to kill you. I wish to cause as little distress as possible. Is that alright, Mothman?”

The creature hisses and yanks his foot back away from where Geralt’s hand had nearly touched it. “Jaskier.”

“Hmm?” Geralt glances up, raising an eyebrow.

“My name is Jaskier,” the Fae repeats, glaring up from between the sections of woven rope that make up the heavy net. “Not Mothman.”

“My apologies, Jaskier,” Geralt bows his head. He words his introduction carefully, in case this thing can manipulate his name like others of his kind: “You may refer to me as Geralt.”

“That’s your real name,” Jaskier states. The Witcher’s head snaps up.

“How did you know?”

“Hmm,” Jaskier sticks his tongue out as he mimics the sound Geralt made earlier. “Not telli-AH! Stop! Oh go- gods, stop! Please!”

Geralt drops the short section of rope he’s trying untangle from around Jaskier’s ankle and snaps his eyes upwards, already searching for damage. “What’s wrong!?”

“My wing!” Jaskier bawls. His scent spikes out through the clearing, sharp with panic and pain. The creature’s chest begins to shake more violently than before, his shoulders shuddering with the rising force of his sobs, “It’s t-t-torn! Oh gods, my wing! Sir Witcher, p-please!”

Geralt freezes, his gaze settling on the torn section of Jaskier’s large, furry wing. It’s a nasty wound near one of the joints, a faint trickle of barely-luminescent blood has already dried around the edges. Jaskier tries to flutter it a little and screams in agony when the muscles shift too suddenly, shrilly enough that Geralt needs to cover his hypersensitive ears. The Witcher's heart crashes down into his boots; based on the way the shivering Fae has gone pale and silent, the pain is too much for him to process. He’s gone into shock.

A torn wing is exactly the kind of thing Geralt had promised the farmer (and the collective of townspeople he represented) wouldn’t happen to the peaceful moth creature if they hired a Witcher instead of an exterminator. He sighs and gives the strange being another once-over. “Everything's alright, Jaskier. You’re going to be alright. I’m so, so sorry that you've been wounded. We’ll get you out of this net and get you something for the pain, but it’s going to hurt a little to untangle you. Stay still, don’t struggle, and it’ll be over soon.”

“J-Just kill me,” Jaskier pants. He’s continuing to hyperventilate and Geralt needs him to calm down before he passes out. The Fae reaches a hand for the dagger at Geralt's waist and the Witcher twists out of reach with a frown. Jaskier sobs again, fingers still seeking, “I might n-n-never fly a-again so just k-kill me!”

“Breathe with me, Jaskier,” the Witcher instructs, forgoing patience and cutting through the net with that same dagger. He scoops Jaskier up into his arms, ignoring the keening sound at the back of Jaskier’s throat when his wing is jostled, and rushes the Fae to his truck, tucking him into the passenger’s seat and wrapping him in a large, fluffy blanket. “I’m taking you to my friend. She’s an expert at healing magical creatures and I'm certain that she'll get your wing fixed in no time.”

Jaskier doesn’t give an answer. When Geralt looks up into the creature’s face again, the injured Fae has already passed out.

---

Jaskier moves with all the grace of a newborn foal as he explores the room Geralt has provided for him. His wing has been inspected, treated, and bandaged by a rather scary sorceress named Yennefer, who glared at the Witcher the entire time she was caring for him. She had also taken one of Geralt’s old t-shirts and cut an enormous hole in the back for Jaskier’s wings to fit through. The shirt’s bottom hem falls to the middle of his thighs and the thick black material is softer than anything he’d ever felt before.

He hears a knock on the door and calls out, “It’s open!”

Geralt enters slowly, bearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a mug of tea. “I brought you some last minute supplies and - uh… I brought you some tea. Yen always likes some before she goes to sleep and I figured since this was a new place and new places can be scary that I should-”

“Thank you,” Jaskier interrupts, smiling shyly. His antennae twitch happily as he takes the offerings from Geralt's hands and the Witcher watches them with wide eyes. Jaskier carefully sets the pajamas and the tea on the nightstand before turning back to look at Geralt. “I will… see you tomorrow?”

Geralt gives one sharp nod. “Hmm.”

“Goodnight,” Jaskier sing-songs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as Geralt exits.

From the other side of the closed door, Jaskier’s superior hearing picks up the Witcher’s final whisper: “Goodnight, Jaskier. I will always be sorry for causing you pain.”

The next morning he meets Geralt at the breakfast table, refreshed and ready to learn about the human world. He’s summoned a glamour in order to hide his more Moth-like traits, the only things that remain of his true nature are his wings and antennae; his fur is gone and he’s dressed in a pair of sweatpants and that same old shirt. The Witcher offers him a bowl of fruit and mug of something sweet-smelling. Jaskier glares into the mug with a slight pout to his lips before finally asking, “What is this?”

“Hot chocolate.”

Jaskier takes a sip and his antennae flutter, twitching happily as he swallows the best drink he’s ever had in his long life. He eats a strawberry from the bowl and slowly works his way through the hot chocolate, eyeing Geralt warily as the Witcher moves through the familiar kitchen to make his own breakfast.

“Where is Yennefer?”

“She went home,” Geralt shrugs.

“She isn’t your mate?”

“N-No,” Geralt sputters, turning to stare at the nervous young Fae. “Why would you think that?”

“You smell like each other.”

“We spend a lot of time together,” Geralt shrugs again. “Good friends, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier mimics his host for a second time. Rather effectively by the annoyed twitch at the corner of Geralt’s mouth. “Just wondering.”

“Anything else you’re curious about?”

“Why don’t you have more lights?”

“Huh?”

“Lights,” Jaskier gestures around the minimalistic layout of Geralt’s open-concept kitchen/living room and its distinctive lack of lamps. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans forward against the dark marble countertop. The pout has gone from 'slight' to 'full-bore' and Geralt is clinging desperately to his braincell with how cute it looks. “It’s no fun.”

“You really like lamps, don’t you?” the Witcher replies, mouth dry. Jaskier huffs and takes another sip of his hot chocolate, antennae flickering back and forth in irritation. Geralt bites his lip to hide a smile; it’s too fucking cute, which is an odd thought for a Witcher to have.

“So what if I do enjoy a nice lamp or five in my living space?” Jaskier argues. "I'm a Moth of taste."

“No matter,” Geralt laughs quietly. “Finish your drink before it gets cold.”

---

Jaskier stays with Geralt for a few weeks while his wing heals, and for a creature whose sole interest seems to be fancy light fixtures, the Fae becomes a source of light in Geralt's own world. They go to a nonhuman friendly second-hand store to find Jaskier some more clothes and Geralt discovers the cryptid's love for oddly patterned shirts in bright colors. Jaskier chooses several to fill out his closet, as well as a sweater two-sizes too large in deep black (Geralt tries his best not to attach any meaning to this choice), a few pairs of pants, and a jean jacket that he declares, "Can be altered."

They watch movies together and make food together - Jaskier is always incredibly impressed by the way the automatic coffee maker works, and how easily Geralt can control the flames of the stove. Jaskier also follows the Witcher along on less dangerous hunts and helps bandage him up after worse ones, always there with a smile and a little kiss over the cleaned-up wound.

“It really is magic,” Jaskier always insists, lips pink and shining from licking them as he concentrates. "It makes you heal faster."

Geralt realizes one night - two weeks into Jaskier’s stay, as he leans against the doorframe and watches the strange creature’s even breathing - that he has gone and done the stupidest thing a Witcher can do: fall in love with a pretty, temperamental young Fae. Head over fuckin’ heels, actually.

So he makes a decision.

---

The next evening, after the dinner dishes have been cleaned and put away, Geralt herds Jaskier down the hall to the guest room. Those entrancing blue eyes blink up at him in obvious confusion. “Bedtime already?”

“No, not quite. I just- I made you… uh…”

“Do you have a surprise for me?” Jaskier asks, used to the Witcher's issues with verbalizing.

Geralt nods, relieved and thankful for the Fae’s steadfast understanding. “Do you want to cover your eyes or should I just open the door and show you?”

“I’ll close my eyes,” Jaskier smiles, covering his eyes with both hands. Geralt finds it adorable, as Jaskier always is, and allows himself a matching grin as he swings the door open. The ceiling light is off but Geralt has built a blanket fort at the center of the room and surrounded it with fairy lights of all colors and sizes. Inside the blanket fort is a mass of blankets and pillows; Jaskier has the odd habit of building nests - Geralt jokingly calls them cocoons - and sleeping in those on the floor instead of on the very comfortable mattress the Witcher has provided.

“Open them,” Geralt urges.

Jaskier pulls his hands away and Geralt watches as his pupils go huge and wide. Jaskier's face breaks out in the sunniest, most blindingly happy smile Geralt has ever seen. He turns and throws his arms around the Witcher, his wings fluttering behind him and his antennae twitching and flicking above his head. He tries desperately to speak but only manages a half-snuffled little “I’m-” before bursting into tears of joy.

Geralt just holds him, letting his arms fold carefully around Jaskier’s waist, just beneath his wings.

"I just wanted you to know that, if you wanted to stay, there would be room for you. Your room, if you want it."

"I do," Jaskier smiles, burying his face in the Witcher's neck. "I'd love to stay. I'd love nothing more than to spend my days going on adventures with you."

"Well then," Geralt gathers all of his courage and presses a soft kiss to the crown of Jaskier's head. He's met with happy spasms from the antennae so he does it again. And again. Moving from the top of the Fae's head to his cheeks and then his mouth - pretty and pink and pouting and so worth the trouble. "I suppose we can get started on our next adventure tomorrow."

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caroldantops · 3 years

Text

please don’t go (i’ll eat you whole)

ship: dark!agatha harkness/fem!reader

summary/request: you’re a stress laden college student with way more anxiety than you can handle. luckily, your friend wanda knows of a therapist that knows just how to take care of you. (modern au)

word count: 5.7k

this is a darkfic and contains the following dark themes, read at your own discretion: dubcon, unbalanced power dynamics (therapist/patient relationship), manipulation, codependency, obsessive behaviors, and possible hints at other themes but those are all the explicit ones.

if you’d like elaboration on any of these warnings feel free to ask!

other warnings: smut (18+ only!), dom!agatha, sub!reader, praise kink, mommy kink, fingering (r receiving), vibrators, dirty talk, possessive agatha, lots of pet names, legal age gap, allusions to wanda/agatha, discussion of anxiety and mental illnesses

faq | masterlist

The sound of your shoes squeaking against the floor as your leg bounces anxiously draws the attention of the three other people in the waiting room. You, however, are completely unaware of the noise and the glares that you’re getting. The thoughts in your head are all jumbles of words happening all at once. Pure alphabet soup.

You really don’t want to be here. Any sort of doctor’s office always sets off your anxiety, but this one in particular is sending you into overdrive. All of the pamphlets talking about how to support your child with depression, the T.V. that’s playing some animation about finding support groups with chillingly corporate animations, and the other patients who all look like they would rather be anywhere else.

Was it too late to bail out of this? Maybe you should just try going to those weird “self-care sessions” that your college advertises rather than actually putting any of the funding into finding more and better counselors. The therapy dogs are pretty cute. Corgis are enough of a cure for your anxiety that keeps you from socializing with anybody outside of your friends that you can count on a single hand, right?

You look at your phone. Three texts, two are from your roommate Darcy, and one from Wanda. Your eyes shoot towards the clock on the wall, then to the exit, as if planning a grand escape (as if anyone in this waiting room would care about what you did). The overly sweet secretary notices you fidgeting and asks if you need anything, but you just shake your head and mumble out something about just checking the time.

Darcy’s messages are just her asking if you needed more coffee pods, to which you reply “yes please.” Wanda, however, is telling you that she hopes that your first session goes alright.

What exactly should you say to that?

“Yep, hope they shoot the serotonin straight into my body!” Or maybe, “Thanks. Unrelated, can you come kill me?”

Both are good options, but you opt to just send a heart as a reply.

Wanda is the one who suggested this particular counselor when you finally admitted that you were in a place where you needed to at least try. You had noticed a big difference in Wanda over the past year after she started seeing Dr. Harkness, so you were willing to at least go to a few sessions and see if it would be the right fit.

You’re so wrapped up in your own brain, mentally trying to decide if there’s a last minute way you could back out of this, that you practically jump out of your seat when you hear a woman’s voice calling your name. Standing in the doorway that leads to the offices, you see Dr. Harkness for the first time.

Wanda apparently failed to mention the fact that the therapist she’s been seeing is incredibly attractive.

“You okay, honey?” Dr. Harkness asks as you remain paralyzed in your seat, your fight or flight instincts apparently choose to freeze at the sight of this woman who makes your mouth go dry.

“Yes! I’m fine, sorry. I zone out a lot,” you try to casually laugh it off as you let her lead you to her office.

“Noted. But next time just take a picture, dear, it’ll last you longer,” Dr. Harkness teases with a wink. You’re a little stunned at how she doesn’t hesitate to joke with you as if she’s known you for years. Or at least more than three seconds. But it’s actually comforting in a way, making the whole process seem less sterile. Your shoulders visibly relax when you finally sink into the comfy couch in Dr. Harkness’s office.

While she pulls your file up on her laptop, you look around and see a large variety of things. There’s items that you assume were given to her with the office, like the filing cabinets and minimalist white bookshelf, but everything else feels like a distinct mixing of eras and random purchases.

The desk that she’s working at would definitely take over a room any smaller than this. It’s huge, and clearly an antique. You’re not even sure how it fit through the door. It definitely does not match the rolling chair from Office Max that Dr. Harkness is sitting in, rolling herself ever so slightly back and forth as she hums and scans through documents. The couch you’re on doesn’t feel like anything special - other than the fact that it really makes you want to nap on it - but the stuffed rabbit that has to be as tall as (if not taller than) you stares at you from the other corner of the couch.

There’s a table next to you that is filled with things that catch your interest. Apart from the record player and antique lamp that looks like a bunch of twisted tree branches, there’s a bunch of fun desk decor, various crystals that you have no idea the meaning behind, and fidget toys that your hands twitch to mess with.

“You’re allowed to touch, dear,” Dr. Harkness’s voice startles you. You look up and see that she’s been watching you, probably for longer than you registered. “Anything in here is free for you to play with, that’s why it’s here!”

You bite your tongue to keep yourself from making the obvious joke of asking if those parameters include her. Probably not the first impression you want to make. You stay silent and grab a little stack of magnets off of the table and start arranging them as Dr. Harkness finally starts asking you questions.

You were the one who did most of the analyzing that day. While she was going over your initial screening, getting an idea of what exactly you were here for and what would be the best way to spend your short hour together, you were studying her carefully. Something about Dr. Harkness - Agatha, you learned her first name was, as she insists you call her by it - lured you in like she has her own gravitational pull.

You ramble on a lot more than you usually would - probably just glad to have someone whose job it is to be non judgemental - talking about your schoolwork and the few friends you had, which professors drove you up the wall and which ones you actually looked forward to seeing. It all just flows out of you, and you don’t even realize fully what you’re saying because of how focused you are on staring at Agatha.

All of your nerves seem to dissipate as soon as you started talking to Agatha. It was no wonder that Wanda sung such high praises of the woman, because what would usually feel like a grueling process of small talk that started digging into more of your personal life sped by, and before you knew it, the hour was up.

“Well, time flies when you’re in good company,” Agatha says as she walks you back towards the lobby. Her hand drifts to your lower back as she leads you out. The gesture seems rather forward, but you figure that maybe she’s just a generally touchy person, so you don’t flinch away. Plus, you kind of like the way the lingering touch leaves goosebumps along your skin. “I hope to hear good things about that paper you’re working on, dear.”

“I am too,” you laugh. “I’ll try my best.”

“Good girl!” Agatha beams. “See you next week!”

Looking back on it, you were doomed from the start.

You really can’t quite place what it is about Agatha that fascinates you so deeply. Perhaps it's your general penchant for getting inappropriately attached to older female figures in your life.

This woman has you enamored. With her dark hair you want to run your hands through, with the lines of her face that you want to trace with your fingertips, with her laugh that kept ringing in your ears through the whole session after you made a snide comment about how you love life was dry in more ways than one.

Freud would probably have some backwards, perverted reasoning for how dependent your self-esteem became on the praise of any female teacher you even remotely liked.

But, fuck Freud. Maybe you just like hot women who just happen to be old enough to be your mother.

This thought process (minus the part about wanting Agatha to kiss you and touch you and make you come undone) all comes spilling out one session as you’re telling Agatha how the paper you had mentioned during your first meeting had come back. It was certainly not your worst grade ever, but it was definitely far from your best. The grade itself would be much more bearable if the comments on it weren’t practically giving you hives.

“A stickler for praise, huh?” Agatha hums, propping her chin up on her knee. She plays with the end of her sleeves as she ponders what you’ve said, a habit that you’ve caught onto over the last month and a half. You always like when she does this, pushing her sleeves up to her elbows. Her hands make your mouth water, and you long to suck on her long digits or feel the veins in her “Sounds like a lot of girls I’ve been in bed with.”

You’re mostly used to Agatha’s flippant innuendos by now, but somehow the more you’ve talked to her, the more flustered they make you. You have gotten braver, daring to fire back with responses that always make Agatha laugh. You’re not sure if you’re actually funny, or she’s just making you feel better.

(You don’t really care, so long as you get to hear Agatha’s laugh.)

Maybe you should’ve questioned whether Agatha’s jokes were a little too much sometimes. The fact that they were enough to make you squirm in your chair sometimes could probably attest to that. But, you always make those types of jokes with your friends. Darcy and your friendship practically revolves around pretend flirting with each other, so this was probably equitable, right?

“Do you have more papers for this class coming up?” Agatha asks.

“One more before our final project.”

“Well, sounds like you have plenty of opportunity to bring up the grade then!”

“That’s true. This one still stings, though. She could’ve at least told me some of the things I did well. Not just all my stupid mistakes,” you admit, twisting the new fidget toy Agatha added to her collection with your fingers. Your attention is fully on the toy as you avoid eye contact, the way you always do when you feel that anxiety tightening in your chest. Agatha gives you a moment of silence before she speaks again.

“Hey, look at me,” she scoots closer to you, putting her hands over your own as the fidgeting gets shakier. You look up and meet her gaze. Her face is but a breath away from you, and you hold your own out of fear.

The intense warmth you feel as you watch her eyes flicker across your face, lingering just this side of too long on your lips, takes over your entire body. Her unwavering stare invites you in and threatens to eat you whole.

And, god, you’re so sure that you would let her.

Not even sexually. (Well, that too). But you feel safe in her presence. There’s no pressure to pretend like you’re a perfect person that does shitty things sometimes. No pressure to act like sometimes you’re not falling apart at the seams.

And even when the seams rip sometimes (which Agatha has certainly seen in a couple of your sessions), she’s been here to help sew you back up, giving you the reassurance that you can’t ever give yourself, that you’re growing to constantly crave in every decision you make.

“One paper will not ruin your life. Hell, multiple papers won’t ruin your life. But also, it’s okay to be upset about it.” Agatha’s thumbs rub soothingly against your hands, and the tenderness of the motion helps you forget how your hands are the only thing between hers and your inner thighs. “Your grades don’t define you, honey. You’ve got so many more things going for you than just a GPA.”

“Sure doesn’t feel like it sometimes,” you mumble. You’re not-so-secretly fishing for a compliment, and Agatha knowingly takes the bait.

“Well, I can certainly think of a few. You’re clever, for one thing. And very sweet, especially when you bring me an iced coffee,” Agatha moves away from you for a second to grab the aforementioned drink and take a sip for effect. It pulls you out of your moping and earns her a laugh. She doesn’t return her hands to your own, but rests one of them on your knee, repeating that same circular motion with her thumb. You’d probably pull away if it wasn’t difficult to rearrange yourself from your criss-cross sitting position and the little room Agatha’s left you to move. But, with the way the touch sends electricity across your skin makes you glad that there isn’t room to pull away. “Not to mention, you’re certainly easy on the eyes, baby.”

“Then maybe I should just sleep with the professor,” you reply, trying to ignore the way your heart is racing. You were definitely not oblivious to the ways that Agatha checked you out. She was pretty obvious about it, but like everything she does, that must be intentional. “That should get me an easy A, right?”

“It sure would work on me. Just make sure you tell me all of the juicy details, sweetheart,” Agatha winks.

“Of course,” you tease back. “I promised to be more open, didn’t I?”

“You did. And you’re doing so well, darling,” she pats your knee affectionately before rolling her chair back to her desk as the alarm signalling the end of your session goes off. You practically glow under the praise.

On your way out, you wonder to yourself if you’ve given Agatha new reinforcement methods when you talked about your need for reassurance. Plus, you can’t stop thinking about Agatha’s touch, either. All of those little moments stick in your brain and create a certain itch that can’t be scratched. Not until you see her again.

Or, it’s temporarily relieved when your hand finds its way between your legs at night, wishing that it was Agatha tracing your folds and whispering against your skin how good you are. But even after you’ve made yourself cum, you feel unsatisfied. A little empty.

The thought of Agatha holding you tight against her chest is the only thing that helps you finally drift off to sleep.

“Sorry, sorry! I know I’m late!” Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath. The waitress that just set down waters for Wanda and Monica raises an eyebrow at your disheveled appearance and quickly goes to get a glass for you as well. You try to thank her, but Wanda just tugs you down into the booth next to her.

“It’s nothing,” Monica waves off your apology. “I’m just glad you could finally grace us with your presence.”

“Yeah, you seem to be even busier than usual,” Wanda comments.

“Well, it’s almost finals season,” you explain, still out of breath from the way you ran from your car. “Plus, my therapy appointments had to be moved around the past couple of weeks ‘cuz of Agatha’s other patients rescheduling a bunch. So I had to make time for that.”

“I thought that was only like, once a week?”

“Twice, now.”

“The semester’s really been that bad? I thought you liked most of your classes,” Monica asks, concern gracing her features.

“Eh, it’s about as stressful as it always is,” you shrug. “But my anxiety has been much less intense when I have therapy, so Agatha suggested maybe increasing the times I see her would make it even more manageable.”

Wanda nods in understanding, but Monica purses her lips, obviously tempted to keep prying. She doesn’t, thankfully. But you can tell that even as the three of you start talking about other things that she’s trying to figure out how to approach you with more questions without making things tense.

Your mind starts wandering as Monica explains some technical engineering project she’s working on that you can’t comprehend, and then you notice your phone light up. The name that appears in the notification makes you smile, and you immediately reply back.

“Ooh, that’s a very happy face. Who’re you texting? New girlfriend?” Wanda asks, poking your side playfully.

“What? No,” you roll your eyes. “It’s just Agatha.”

“Agatha?” Monica squints at you. “As in, your therapist Agatha?”

“Yes?” You can feel the judgement coming and are quick to defend yourself before any accusation is even made. “Tons of people have their therapist’s number. It’s not a big deal. She likes to check in and ask how my day is going. She just wants to know if I can get coffee today.”

“Pretty sure they usually don’t do that,” Monica says, apprehension growing stronger by the second. “Is she texting all her patients for life updates or coffee dates?”

“She’s done that with me,” Wanda shrugs, stabbing a forkful of salad. “Not as much anymore, but still.”

“See?” You gesture to Wanda. “Not weird! And Wanda’s been doing great since she started seeing Agatha. Her methods clearly work.”

“I’m not saying they don’t,” Monica’s eyes flick between you and Wanda. “But I’m just worried about you becoming dependent on Agatha, because it seems to me like you’re leaning on her a lot for support.”

“Dependent? I’m just going to therapy, Monica. Isn’t she supposed to support me?”

“Yes, but--”

“And weren’t you one of the ones who suggested that it would help me manage my stress?” You scoff. Monica doesn’t reply to that, because she knows it’s true. It was out of love, of course. She was easily the most reasonable out of your circle of friends (not that it was tough competition with Wanda and Darcy around). Wanda is silently watching the argument with rapt attention. You kind of wish she’d support you more, but you also feel kind of bad, because you know Monica is just looking out for you. “Guess what? My stress is being managed!”

“Look,” Monica sighs and raises her hands in defeat. “I’m so, so glad that this is working for you. But I also know that it’s important that you feel like you have everything under control even when you’re not sitting in Agatha’s office. And no matter how much you like your therapist, there’s a line that shouldn’t be crossed.”

“No lines are being crossed,” you huff. You stand up abruptly and shuffle through your wallet and throw some cash down on the table. Monica rubs her temples, and Wanda tries to stop you from leaving. “I’m not doing anything I don’t want to. I appreciate the concern, but I think I need to leave now.”

Monica is civil as she bids you goodbye, telling you that she’ll see you soon. Wanda tells you that she’s demanding another lunch soon, and you give them both a flippant wave as response.

Just as you’re leaving, you notice that you have several more notifications from Agatha, repeatedly asking you to answer her coffee request. Monica’s words pick at your brain, but the thought of seeing Agatha today eases all of the tension that the argument had created in your body.

You finally respond and tell Agatha that you’ll meet her in an hour.

The argument with Monica was temporarily relieved by getting coffee with Agatha that day. She reassured you that she would never do anything that she didn’t think you’d be okay with (not that you’d had any doubts). But when Monica asked to get lunch again as an apology for the disagreement, the churning in your stomach made you feel terrible every time you thought about it, so you ended up cancelling last minute.

And you did the same with Wanda the next day. You made up an excuse about having too many things to do. It wasn’t a complete lie. But the work wasn’t so difficult or important that you didn’t spend time texting Agatha while you were doing it.

Even Darcy, who uses up the absolute least amount of your social battery got caught up in the whole thing. The idea of even sitting around and watching a trashy movie with her sounds like effort that you’d rather put elsewhere. She’s surprised, since you almost never turn her down, but doesn’t question it at all.

It sucks when you can so easily bail on your friends, but you also feel immense guilt over letting them down. It eats you up from the inside out, and you desperately want to scratch at your skin because it feels like the anxiety is trying to claw its way out of you and and and--

Breathe.

The voice in your head centers you. You flex your fingers, bad feelings still bubbling and threatening to spill over.

You’re okay.

The voice is Agatha’s. It makes you realize that it’s Tuesday. You can see her today. She can take the bad feelings away and replace them with her warmth. The warmth that you crave every day. The warmth that makes you think you finally understand what love should feel like. The warmth that soothes you, swaddles you, swallows you.

And everything will be okay once it does.

Agatha, the professional that she is, immediately knows that you’re worse for wear than you have been in quite a few weeks. She already knows generally what’s going on with you, since you were consistently in contact over the past week, but she sees the exhaustion on your face and wants nothing more than to take it all away from you.

“Oh, dear. You’re looking like something the cat dragged in. C’mere, come tell mommy about it,” Agatha coos when she sees the dark circles under your eyes. The sudden nickname sends a slight shiver down your spine, but your mind is too preoccupied to come up with a teasing response.

You sit in your normal spot on the couch, but instead of sitting at her office chair like she usually does, Agatha comes over and sits next to you. She watches your leg bounce nervously and wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer to her. You’re so nervous having this much contact with her that you can’t even look in her direction.

“Tell me, baby. What’s so heavy on your mind today?”

“I’m just,” you sigh, feeling a tightness deep in your chest, threatening to explode and shatter your ribs into a million tiny pieces. And then you finally look up from your fidgeting hands, making eye contact with Agatha.

You remember. You’re here. This is your safe spot. Agatha is here, and you’re safe with her. One look from her, and the tightness unravels, like a ball of tangled up yarn. She can patiently undo all of your knots and gently even you out again.

Agatha is the only one who can.

“I’m afraid,” you finally blurt out, eyes darting away from her again. Agatha’s grip tightens on your shoulder, not in a threatening way, but to ground you.

“Of what?”

A beat of silence.

You swear you can feel your heartbeat. It feels like it’s thrashing against your ribcage, even though you know that’s anatomically impossible. You take a deep breath. And with your exhale, your insecurities come spilling out.

“Not being good enough. I’m afraid of not being good enough. And disappointing my friends. Enough so that they leave me. They all have better friends anyway. Why stick around with the one who bails out of every plan? The one who can’t even muster enough energy to watch a movie with them for some reason? But then I feel bad about it all, which is stupid, because I’m the one who bails. I don’t even know why I do it. They’ve been so good to me. They’re the reason I get to see you, and this has been one of the best things that’s happened to me,” you admit. “But I still keep pushing them away.”

Agatha hums, thinking over what you’ve said. Her hand rubs your shoulder gently, and you want nothing more than to fully lean into her. But a voice in your head (which sounds a little too much like Monica) tells you not to.

“Has this been a problem for a while?”

“Kinda,” you shrug. “When I’m really overwhelmed with school I tend to shut down more. But it feels like it’s gotten worse lately. Which is really weird, because I feel like when I’m here, all my anxiety gets pushed away. Then it just comes back when I start trying to hang out with the others.”

“Maybe we should focus more on the things that make you feel good, rather than what doesn’t,” Agatha suggests. You don’t look up at her again, but you nod. “You say you feel better when you’re here, right? We can have longer sessions, if you’d like.”

“Maybe. It actually helped a lot when we talked outside of our appointments,” you admit. “But I don’t want to be constantly bothering--”

“Sweetheart, you’re never a bother to me,” Agatha interrupts before you dare finish your sentence. “That’s why I’m here. I’d love to talk to you more outside of the office. Is there anything else that you can think of that helps?”

“I...I’m not sure,” you whisper. “I’ve never been really good at the whole ‘self-care’ thing. I’d honestly prefer if there was just a way for someone else to do all that for me, y’know?”

If you were looking at her, you would’ve been able to see Agatha’s eyes light up at what you said. Instead, you feel her hand touch your face, and she tilts your head so that you’re facing her again. You try to blink away the few tears that have formed against your will without her noticing, but of course she doesn’t miss it. Her thumbs wipe them away as they fall, and you tremble under her touch.

“I think that I might have an idea that will work for you,” Agatha says. You furrow your eyebrows at her, silently asking for her to elaborate. “A way I can take care of you, when you can’t do it yourself. A distraction from all those noisy thoughts inside of your head.”

“Oh,” you wrack your brain trying to figure out what she’s getting at. It sounds promising, though, being distracted from your anxiety long enough to clear your head. “Okay.”

“Wonderful. Now, get on your knees.”

Wait.

“What?”

“Do you trust me?” Her hand trails down from cradling your face to resting on your neck. You can feel her fingers twitching against your throat, like she’s trying to resist the urge to squeeze.

“I don’t know,” you gulp. Fingers twitch against your throat again. Suddenly, those fleeting fantasies that you’ve failed to force out of your mind are much closer to reality than you ever imagined they would be. “I mean, I do trust you! I just don’t think this is something we’re allowed to do.”

“I think I know the rules of this a bit better than you do, honey,” Agatha looks at the framed degrees on her wall pointedly. “Besides, this method worked wonders with Wanda.”

“Really?” you pull away from her. You recall the way that Wanda mentioned how Agatha would text her and meet up with her the same way that she does with you.

Was this Agatha’s endgame the whole time?

“Yep. You can ask her yourself, I’m sure she’d tell you how much she loved it,” Agatha winks.

There are about a million thoughts running through your head right now. You know that it’s wrong. Hell, Agatha could lose her career for this, maybe even worse. But it’s also something that you’ve wanted since that first session. Maybe if it was just once, no harm would be done? But then, if someone like Monica found out, even one time could put you and Agatha in hot water.

Every conflicting thought in your head is too loud, and you don’t even realize that your breathing has picked up. It’s all too loud, too much to think about. You can’t make this decision.

As if she can read your mind, Agatha moves closer to you again, stroking your face and kissing your cheek softly. Your eyes flutter close at the tender contact, and you calm down enough to steady your breathing back to normal.

The way your world centers again helps you finally realize that you don’t want to make this decision. You want - need - Agatha to choose for you.

You look up at her pleadingly, fighting for the words to ask her to take control. Luckily, she understands, whispering praise as she guides you strip and kneel in front of the couch. Her hands glide teasingly over your body as she helps take your shirt and jeans off, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

She won’t let you shy away from her either, leaving kisses and bites along your skin when you try to cover yourself as your clothes are tossed to the floor piece by piece. Once your underwear has come off, you finally kneel in the spot she’s told you to, and watch as she goes to her desk to get something.

“You look so perfect on your knees for me, baby. I could keep you like this for hours,” Agatha says when she comes back into your vision. Your core aches for attention, only growing needier by the second. You whine at her proposition. She just laughs, sitting down on the couch again and patting your cheek. “Don’t worry, honey. I won’t do that to you today. Now, come sit in mommy’s lap.”

You scramble to obey her, straddling her lap and waiting eagerly for your next instructions. Her fingers run through your folds, collecting the wetness that’s gathered there and teasing around your clit. You try not to grind against her hand, biting your lip to hold back a moan when she dips two fingertips into your eager cunt.

“Ah ah, no,” Agatha scolds you. You frown, scrunching your face in confusion. She can’t resist kissing the tip of your nose before explaining, “Don’t hold back from me. I want to hear you.”

“But what if someone catches us?”

“That’s for me to worry about,” Agatha assures you. Her fingers push all the way into you, and you drop your head against her shoulder and groan into her neck. “All you have to worry about is being a good girl for me.”

You nod and let yourself moan against Agatha’s skin as she starts pumping into you. Her fingers are so long and feel so good stretching your pussy. She starts curling them inside of you, and you can feel your thighs shaking when she picks up the pace. The dark purple sweater that she’s wearing feels soft in your fists as you hold onto her for dear life, like you’re afraid of being so overcome by pleasure that you evaporate.

“God, look at you,” Agatha practically growls. Suddenly, your cunt is empty, and you can’t help whimpering. You watch as she brings her fingers to her mouth and sucks your juices off of them, cunt clenching when you hear her moan for the first time. “Shit, baby. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to resist you ever again after tasting that pussy.”

“You don’t have to, mommy.” The title falls from your lips easily. Agatha’s hand that was steading your hips tightens, leaving little crescent shaped marks where her short nails dig into your skin. “I’m yours.”

“Say it again,” Agatha orders, fingers diving back into your cunt. This time, she has three fingers buried inside of you, and you feel so full and so good that you’re almost tempted to ask for another finger. Before you can even think about it, you feel vibrations against your clit and practically scream from how good it feels. Agatha presses the vibrator harder against you as she fucks you with her fingers, repeating darkly, “Say it again, slut. Tell me who you belong to.”

“You! I belong to you, Agatha.”

“What about this pussy, hm?”

“You own my pussy, mommy,” you moan as she ups the intensity of the vibrator. You know that you must be dripping now. You can hear how wet you are as Agatha thrusts into you, and you must be soaking Agatha’s pants, but she doesn’t seem to care. “You own all of me. I-I…”

The words are lost in your throat as Agatha captures your lips, swallowing the moans that spill from your mouth. She barely pulls back, lips still grazing your own, as she asks, “What is it, baby? What do you need?”

“Need to cum, mommy, please. I need it so bad,” you whine, completely lost in the haze of submission. The only thing that you can think about is Agatha and her fingers that are sending pleasure through your entire body.

“Yes, baby. Come for me,” Agatha mumbles against your lips, kissing you again as she curls her fingers inside of you rapidly, pressing against the spot against your walls that you can never quite reach yourself.

The orgasm that takes over your body erupts so suddenly that you have to cling to Agatha to stay upright. She yanks the vibrator away, but her fingers stay inside of you, pumping slowly still as your body shakes with your climax. Agatha groans at the way your walls clench her fingers, thinking of all the ways she can stretch you out later.

As you come down from your high, your head feels so fuzzy that you only vaguely register Agatha removing her fingers. Your thighs are sticky, and there are beads of sweat running down your body, but you don’t care. Agatha doesn’t seem to either, pulling you so that you’re pressed almost completely against her while she cradles your head and strokes your hair. She coos praises in your ear, and it makes your entire being feel like it's floating among the clouds.

“Thank you,” you finally mumble into her neck, voice hoarse from exhaustion. Agatha just kisses your temple and pulls you impossibly closer.

“Of course, darling. You’re mine now, and I’m going to take such good care of you.”

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness smut #agatha harkness imagine #marvel darkfics #darkfics #c: agatha #silver writes #fic #therapist!agatha

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bokutosworld · 3 years

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convenience store stranger | suna rintarou

pairing: suna x f!reader word count, genre: 2.1k words, college au. fluff. another meet cute story lol. warning: none summary: in which your late shifts become less boring and more interesting when a cute stranger stumbles in at 2 AM. a/n: my first time writing for suna god im scared but i really liked how this turned out!!

The first time he meets you happens on one of his late night convenience store runs. It was exams season and Suna’s been pulling all-nighter after all-nighter. To say he was exhausted would’ve been an understatement.

He’s barely making it through on the third night and if he didn’t take a break soon, he was sure he’d have passed out on his desk. With his mind hazy from reading too many words and trying to understand a semester’s worth of lessons in one night, he decides to stand up and get some fresh air.

Which is how he found himself currently standing at aisle four of the only convenience store that was still open near his apartment. He scans the rack for something that can wake him and his brain up. He doesn’t know how long he’s been standing but he could definitely feel eyes burning holes in the back of his head.

He settles on a pack of jelly sticks and a cup of spicy instant noodles and heads towards the counter. You mutter a greeting when he reaches the cashier and begin scanning his items.

When he hands over the cash for payment, your fingers brush with his cold ones, making you recoil harshly as if he was repulsing.

“Something wrong?” He laughs when he sees your reaction. “I know I look like a mess now but I won’t bite you.” He bends his knees slightly, tilting his head to get a look at your embarrassed face.

“No, I’m sorry.” You avoid his intense gaze, continuing to pack his purchase. When you look at him, he’s still staring with his piercing eyes that it almost takes your breath away.

Shaking your head to bring yourself to reality, you give him his items. “Your hands felt cold and I was just shocked.” You feel that same electricity sparking between you again when he takes the bag from you. “I.. well.. thank you. Have a great evening.”

“It’s 2 AM,” Suna chuckles and you sigh before correcting yourself and bowing to him in goodbye. “See you around,” he shouts over his back as he walks out the door. It was the first time he saw you in that store and he was sure it wasn’t going to be the last.

The second time he’d actually planned it according to your shift. If his past trips to the store were anything to go by, he’d learned that you always took the evening shift. It was something he discovered after being called out by your co-worker on the third time that he restlessly looked around the store during a visit.

He should be on his bed, phone in his hand as he mindlessly scrolled until he fell asleep. But with the memory of his interaction with you lingering on his mind, he wanted to see you.

“Hey, got time for a customer?” He greets the moment he steps inside the empty convenience store. You look up from the book that you were reading and quickly stand to welcome him. “What are you reading?”

Hiding the book from his view, you retort, “Aren’t you going to buy something?”

He grins, taking in your tired disposition and the bags that had formed under your eyes before retreating to the shelves. When he returns, he slides over a can of energy drink, iced coffee, and a large bag of chips.

You assume he’d leave immediately once he’s paid for everything. You certainly didn’t expect him to take out the coffee and give it to you.

“This is for you.” He opens his own drink and leans by the counter. “Doesn’t it ever get boring here? I mean it’s midnight and you’re alone. I’m betting not many people even drop by at this time.” He faces the door, crossing his arms around his chest and staring at both of your reflections at the glass.

Worn out from your classes in the day, you take his coffee offering, instantly feeling the rush of caffeine flow through your veins and waking you up. “The job pays relatively well. Besides I can’t really work in the mornings, I have uni.”

“So you’re a college student too.” He turns around and extends a hand out to you. “I’m Suna Rintarou.”

You introduce yourself as you shake hands with him. And as soon as pleasantries were exchanged, he immediately launched into a story about how his earlier day went. He was a natural conversationalist and despite this being your first time talking with him, you didn’t feel an ounce of awkwardness. You didn’t know what it was about him but his presence made you feel comfortable.

You learned about what he was studying (to your surprise, Psychology), how he spends his weekends playing volleyball (he was a middle blocker and an excellent one at that, he boasted), and how he ended up here during the night he first saw you (the all-nighter went well and he passed all his exams).

He rips open the chips he bought and offers you some as you lay your story before him. He munches as he listened to you rant about how you loathed your course (Business Management) and the many case studies and papers you had to do each day. He nods his head in understanding as you explain why you needed this part-time job (to pay for apartment fees).

You were having so much fun in his company that you didn’t notice the time pass by. (He arrived to the store at 12:32 AM. The clock on the wall now reads 2:32 AM). And for the duration of his stay, you were surprised that no one ever came by. He only ever left your side when a taxi driver walked in.

Suna steered clear from the counter and kept his distance as you did your job. From your peripheral, you could see that he watched you like a hawk from the side and it made you somehow conscious. When the customer exited, you playfully threw a tissue at him,

“I couldn’t concentrate when you were standing there and looking at me like that!”

He went back to his position but this time, he leaned close with his hands on the counter. “Like what?"

Well how could you say to him that you thought he looked effortlessly hot in his sweatshirt and track pants? And was that an adorably messy bedhead? How could you say that you liked the teasing smile that he’d been giving you throughout the night?

You chuckle and shake your head, “Nothing.” You reach for the book you were reading prior his arrival and took your seat. “Don’t you have classes tomorrow? You should go back.”

“Do you not want me around anymore?”

“It’s not that, I…”

He cuts you off, “Good, then it’s settled. I’m not going anywhere. I like talking with you too much to go back home. Let me entertain you some more.” He sits down at the chair on one of the tables near the counter and then goes back to chatting with you.

Since that night, Suna had been scheduling more trips to the convenience store. Sometimes, he’d really only visit to bother you. At times, he’d bring his books and laptop with him so he could work on a paper while you restocked the shelves and cleaned around. On rare occasions, he’d help you out on a business plan and the customers who’d enter the store would be amused at the sight of you and him huddled behind the counter with your serious thinking faces on.

He’d become a part of your life that it felt unnerving not to have him around on your shifts. And it certainly showed on your face how disappointed and heartbroken you were when consecutive nights passed without his visits. Your co-worker even called you out on it.

“So where’s the cutie been?” She asked one time when the two of you were at the back lounge while you logged in for your shift. You groan at the nickname she gave him and she laughs at you.

“How would I know?”

“Don’t you guys talk almost every day and night?”

“Only on nights that he visits me.” You pause, thinking about the possibilities why he could’ve stopped coming. And before you knew it, you were ranting. “God, are we even friends? I don’t know his number. Did he ghost me? Is this considered ghosting? It’s been a week. I’m scared I did or said something.”

She’s watching you pace around the room. “Maybe he got bored of me. Or maybe he realized I’m not really worth his time and dipped. Sleeping is much better than hanging out with me at 1 AM anyway.”

You’re stopped in your tracks when she suddenly grabs your shoulders. “Overthinking is not a good look on you.” She makes you take deep breaths to calm down. “I’m sure he’s just busy right now. He’ll visit again soon.”

“I don’t know why I’m being like this.”

The look she gives you is incredulous, her mouth gaping wide at your statement. “Are you serious?”

“What?” You ask, not anticipating the next words that would come from her.

“It’s obvious that you like him.”

The next time you see him was on campus. You don’t know how long it’s been since he last spent time with you on your shift. (Though if you were counting, you were definitely sure that it’s been two weeks and three days since then.)

You tried not to think too much about what his absence could mean but the pang in your heart never left. Those two weeks that he didn’t show up allowed you some time to think about your conversation with your friend. You like him.

Back then, you were too quick to shut down the idea. Denying any ounce of feeling for the boy as you saw him as no more than someone who had too much time on his hands to bother you on your shifts. A good friend is what you specifically used to defend your relationship with him.

So then why was it that your heart was beating so rapidly as Suna waved at you from across the cafeteria? Why couldn’t you stop smiling as you watched him make his way to your table and sit down beside you?

“Hey there.” He slings his arms around and pulls you for a side hug. “Long time no see.”

You almost couldn’t hear him over the loud thumping of your heart in your ears. He’s still smiling and waiting for you to reply. “Yeah, been a while. I’ve gotten the peace and quiet back in my shifts.”

He breaks out in laughter while opening a snack bar. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to stop by. I just came out from a major presentation that I’ve been preparing for during the past weeks. And guess what?”

You perk your eyebrows at his question. “What?”

“Our group did great.” He raises a hand for a high-five and you indulge him. “The teacher liked our slides and our analysis of the topic. Ah, I feel so good right now!” He leans back with his hands behind his head, but he suddenly jerks.

“We should go out!” Suna grabs your hands and looks at you expectantly. “You’re free the whole day tomorrow right? You’re not working the shift? Let’s celebrate. It’s my treat!”

Feeling overwhelmed by his invitation and his overall excitedness, you laugh and pull back. “Calm down, Suna. I don’t know about tomorrow.”

“Why? Are you busy?”

“Not really but..”

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem.” He tucks a loose hair behind your ear, leaning close with his voice barely over a whisper, “It’s perfect. I’ve wanted to take you on a date for a long time now.”

“What?” You stare at him wide-eyed.

“Come on, you’ve never thought about us?” He finds the situation entertaining. Your flustered reaction reminds him of the night that he met you.

“Why do you think I’ve been coming to the convenience store when I could be sleeping at that time? I like being around you. My day doesn’t feel complete if I don’t at least see you or tell you about my day or listen to you rant about the latest episode of your favorite series.”

You like him.

“Go out with me.” He kisses the back of your hand. “Please?”

The corners of your lips unconsciously curves up and Suna sends your heart doing somersaults when he says something about how he’s finally got to see the beautiful smile he’s been wanting to see for weeks.

Your friend was right. You do like him.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #suna x reader #suna imagines #haikyuucafe #haikyuucreations #suna fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fics #suna x y/n #suna x you #haikyuu x you #suna rintaro x reader #hq suna #suna rintaro #haikyuu!!

541 notes · View notes

bakugosbratx · 3 years

Note

omg could you do a dark villain Shoto x fem reader smut?

NSFW 18+ The Pawn— AU Villian! Shoto Todoroki x Fem! Reader

Warning: 18+ content. Unprotected sexual intercourse, alternate universe, toxic relationship, stolkholm syndrome, fluff, angst, gaslighting, manipulation, kidnapping, murder of family, punishment, bdsm, power play, yandere tendencies, etc.

Words: 2,410

Check out my other works here

A/N: Thank you so much for your request! I am so sorry it took me forever to do it. But I hope it meets what you’re looking for. This is my first time writing for Shoto so I apologize in advance.

Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @milkthistletea @quietlegends @idfkwtfgof

“Any last words?” Shoto questions with a demeaning scowl of disgust, his index finger becoming restless on the pistol’s trigger. The barrel of the gun is resting on the man’s temple while he pleads for mercy.

“I’ll have your money by next week, I swear!” The man cried.

“You said that last time. To be quite frank, I’m not really fond of your lying, Y/L/N.” Shoto admits, cocking the gun so it can fire. The terrified man’s eyes grew wide as tears stream down his face.

“Shoto,” his breath hitches, “p-please. I have a family to take care of. A wife and two children. Please.”

Horrific muffled screams filled the kitchen where your family reside as the gunshot went off. Blood leaked from your father’s bullet wound onto the floor beneath him. You all were forced to watch, tied up and helpless. Shoto even had his crew gag you so your words would not disturb his business meeting. He hates interruptions.

“Disgusting.” Shoto complains, referencing to some of the blood covering his face. Igniting his left side, he sets your father’s corpse on fire. The smell of burning flesh filled your snot filled nostrils as more whimpers escaped your cloth covered lips. This caught Shoto’s attention.

“You,” he calls out as he makes his way towards your tied up body. He picks you up with ease, throwing you over his muscular shoulder. “Are coming with me.”

Your muffled remarks were no use as well as your kicks. You are terrified and not sure why Shoto, Japan’s notorious killer, is doing in your household right now, but you know it’s not good.

“Sir,” one of the men stopped you two as Shoto is making his way towards the exit. He pauses his motion, waiting for the man’s question. “What do you want us to do with the other two? Heroes will be here any moment.”

Shoto pondered the man’s words for a moment. You are silently pleading that he will just let them go, but that was not even a thought in his mind. “Leave them be.”

“But sir—“

“The house will be burnt to ash in any given moment,” he activates his left side for emphasis, “if you want to stay alive, I suggest you gather up the others and get a move on.”

The man nodded and Shoto begins walking out of the house. You struggle in his grasp, but Shoto remains undisturbed by your antics. Throwing you into the back of a van, he slams the double doors. Now all you are left with is your thoughts.

This doesn’t seem real. It truly can’t be. Your family is being massacred and there is not a thing you can do about it. You can even hear their muzzled screams as your house goes up in flames. Still, you are useless as the van starts and drives far away from the crime scene.

Shoto Todoroki is Japan’s worse nightmare. Numerous accounts of murder, abuse of power, kidnapping, anything terrible had Shoto’s name on it. No one knows much about the villain’s personal life except for his heroic father with a bad temper. Some say it is his fault for the way his son turned out and Shoto would agree, but Shoto’s crimes will not be taken from him. No, they are all his doing and he is proud of it.

“Y/N,” Shoto called, making you snap out of your thoughts. You turn to meet the man that now claims you as his. “Are you alright, love? You hardly touched your food.”

“Oh, I’m fine.” You mumbled, giving a soft smile. Bringing the ramen noodle soup to your lips, you forced yourself to eat the food. Your stomach is in shambles as the thoughts from that night came back. There are still many unanswered questions and unknown puzzle pieces, but that is a life you need to forget about. You are Shoto’s now. You have no choice but to be his.

Shoto studied your features. If there is one thing Shoto is not is dumb. He is observant. Just one wrong look and you are in deep trouble. Considering you have been living with Shoto for over a year now, you have grown accustomed to his ways. You have learned to appease him in anyway to make you happy. Especially if it is going to keep you alive.

“You know I don’t appreciate when you lie to me.” Shoto nonchalantly reminds you, noticing how quickly you swallow when the words flow out off his tongue.

“I-I’m not lying, Shoto. Honestly.” You stammered, hoping he would not notice the fear trickling in your eyes. He did, though. Shoto noticed everything about you. One of the many things you despised about him.

The rest of super was ate in silence. As you have learned, this is never a good sign. When Shoto is quiet, he’s plotting. Usually, it’s your punishment. You can see it in his eyes and the subtle touches he does to you. All to make you feel uneasy. Just like he can read you, you are learning to read him just the same.

Once dinner was over, he gathered the dirty dinning wear and washed them. You remained in your chair until you are granted permission to stand up. Your heart is racing with anticipation. What is Shoto plotting? Especially for something as simple as lying.

“Y/N,” Shoto paused to make sure your attention was his. The hairs on the back of your neck are standing straight along with your body stiffening. You hear him walking towards you, his one cold hand and other warm one rest on your shoulders. “Go upstairs to our shared bedroom.”

“Y-Yes, Shoto.” You mumbled, scurrying up the steps like the good behave girl he taught you to be. If only your filthy little mouth could stop lying.

Shoto is quick to follow after your trembling body. His presence is swallowing you whole as he march up the stairs behind you. Your clammy palm turns the golden doorknob into the master bedroom. You immediately turn around, groping your butt in fear for what may happen to it.

Shoto shuts the door behind him, leaning against it with his arms folded. His face held its usual unamused look as he glares at you.

“I’m giving you one last chance to be honest with me, Y/N.”

“I-I have been honest a-all along, Shoto.” You argued. Shoto’s glare intensified.

“You were thinking about your family again, weren’t you?”

“What? No, I-“

“You’re just like your father.” Shoto scornfully chuckled, strolling towards you. His right hand folded around your neck, giving it a nice squeeze as he whispered in your ear, “and you know how much I truly despise your father.”

His hot breath seemed to linger on the shell of your ear. Your eyes harden as they meet his. His icy hand seemed to make this choking experience even worse. You would get frostbite if it gets any colder, but something in you snapped. You have not fought back in months. You became the submissive girl Shoto desperately wanted you to be yet you are still in the same position as many times before.

“You’re one to talk.” You choked out. The hold on your neck became stronger, circulation being lost to your organs. You are pushed onto the bed, Shoto’s muscular form on top of you.

“Don’t you ever compare me to that monster again, understand me?” Shoto growls as he watch you struggle beneath him. You started to turn pale as your body loses its natural color from lack of air flow. His hatred from his father and yours is taking over as you slowly start to become unconscious. He finally lets go.

You cough, grasping for air. It felt like there was not enough in there to supply your deprived body. Especially with Shoto’s suffocating presence on top of you.

“You have some real nerve talking to me like that, Y/N. When will you learn that your family is the true bad guys in the situation, not me. They screwed me over and I came for what they owed me. You’re just a pawn.”

“You’re lying..” You mumbled out in disbelief. Shoto’s devious grin just grew wider at the tears in your eyes.

“I’m not like your father.” Shoto spats, venom dripping from every wretched word. Your heart is aching and this only fuels the fire.

“Fuck you.” You hissed, warm tears streaming down your face. Shoto only chuckled at your mere offense.

“I plan on it.”

Your look of disgust was ignored as Shoto’s lips trailed from your neck to your lips. You forced yourself to kiss back. You always do. You two had sex plenty of times and sadly, you enjoyed it, but when it’s used for punishment or after he has tears down any sheer ounce of self esteem you possessed it is quite difficult to get in the mood.

“Why do you keep me here?” You finally breathe out as your lips disconnect. Shoto furrowed his eyebrows together.

“Because your family is dead.”

“I know that!” You exclaimed. Shoto is very intelligent, but someone who is also literal. He does not always catch onto what you’re actually trying to ask. “I mean, if I’m just some pawn, why keep me here? Why not let me have the same fate as my family?”

Shoto stayed silent. He pondered how he should answer this. He just started touching you outside of the bedroom a couple months ago. It even took him a long time to have sexual intercourse with you. He knows he could have killed you off. He is sure of it. You have been a pain in his ass since he collected you for payment yet you’re still here.

“I don’t know.” Shoto answered, truthfully.

You sigh. You are not sure what answer you were expecting, but knowing where this is leading does not make you feel any better about yourself. You just feel more used.

Silence over fell you two. Shoto is in deep thought as so are you. You are worried that your days are numbered now, but Shoto was not even thinking about that. He is more thinking of himself and how he can’t murder you. He actually likes having you around. He may never say it and his facial features will never show it, but with you by his side, his frozen heart starts to thaw. Just by your simple glimpses and touches.

Part of him hated you for that.

“Shoto,” you whisper, catching his attention. You made yourself look away. You have so many conflicting thoughts. Shoto is all you have now and in all honesty, you have grown not to hate the guy. You love the soft touches and the way he keeps you warm at night. He is so observant of the slightest of things. That’s more than your family has ever given you.

Your right hand cupped his cheek. He seemed slightly tense by the action, but he instantly fell into your touch. Your thumb grazed his cheek.

“I-I,” you meet his gaze, “I enjoy your company.” You admit. Shoto kept silent, but your words meant something to him. You both are not good with this kind of stuff. You were never taught it. This is the closest thing you two will ever get to ‘I love you.’

Your lips connected once again. During the process, each one of your articles of clothing was discarded to the ground below. Shoto kissed down your exposed breast, stomach, and finally stopped at your pussy. He swiped his tongue between your folds sending chills down your spine along with needy moans escaping your parted lips.

“Shoto, please.“ You whined, wanting him to make you soaked already, but you are on Shoto’s terms. He gets to decide everything.

Luckily, he did not make you wait long as tongue swirled on your sensitive clit. Your legs rested on his shoulders as he devoured you. Small groans is all Shoto could do as his tongue explored every inch of your pussy. Not a spot was missed nor would he allow there to be. Your clit was being the most spoiled. Your entrance was then meet shortly after. You did your best to conceal your sweet melodies of pleasure, but Shoto is not allowing you to do so.

“You have a voice for a reason. Use it.” He orders in a low growl amongst your cunt.

“Shoto,” you sob, “I’m about to cum. Please.”

You arched your back as your cunt was about to release. Shoto sped up the pace, helping you meet your climax even sooner. On que, you sing sweet little melodies of moans as you release into the man’s mouth. Every drop was swallowed by him.

Shoto stood up, grabbing your hips to pull you closer to the edge of the bed. “Keep your eyes on me at all times. Understood?”

You nod, eagerly. “Yes, Shoto.”

Shoto aligned his erection with your weeping entrance. Shortly after, your walls are hugging his length as it dives deeper and deeper into you. Each thrust loosened you even more and he kept a steady pace. You gripped the expensive European satin bedsheets as you babbled incoherent words and phrases. You kept your eyes locked on Shoto the whole time just like he ordered.

“Shoto.” You finally moan aloud as his dick is inside of you.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” He groans. Your crying cunt was dripping with your slick onto the fabric of the bed and on Shoto’s cock.

“Yes.” You manage to blurt out as you gasp for more. His cock felt amazing no matter how much you wanted to hate him for it. This is one of the ways he shows affection. You learned to accept that.

Shoto’s hands find their way to your bouncing titties. The difference between temperatures sent your body into overdrive. He loved seeing the lewd faces you make as he used his power to pleasure you. Shoto’s dick did not stop thrusting into you through this process either though it is twitching.

Pre-cum leaks into your cunt. Shoto removes his hands from your breast as he picks up the pace. His knees start to buckle beneath him as cum flows from his cock. Every drop is milked from him until he pulls outs.

This is his way of saying ‘I love you.’

©bakugosbratx

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snelbz · 3 years

Text

I'll Be Seeing You {4}

Nesta x Cassian, 1940′s AU

Collaboration with @tacmc

Summary: After Cassian gets injured in the war, he’s taken to a war camp to be cared for until he gains enough strength to return to his battalion. While he’s there, he falls for a nurse that couldn’t care less about his title and doesn’t put up with his bullshit. Once he’s healed and the years pass by, he finds that there’s only one thing he wants to remember from the war, and she’s only a letter away.

Trigger Warnings: war

Chapters will be posted every Monday.

Word Count: 2429

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October 1940, The Autumn Court

Major Cassian Nazari was bored.

Nesta could sense it from where she was, back turned to him at the other end of the tent. It had also been a sign when she came in that morning and he was complaining, loudly, to Madja. I don’t see why I can’t get up and walk around. I’m fine. And bored shitless.

Madja, of course, had told him, Very well, Major. Do as you wish.

Cassian had taken two steps before a wave of nausea hit him from the pain, and he was throwing up his breakfast. After a dose of pain medicine, he had fallen asleep.

Now, he was awake, his pains were dulled, and he was loud.

Loud, and having a one-sided conversation with the unconscious soldier next to him about his favorite brands of whiskey.

He was just getting to the pros of living near a distillery, back in Velaris, when Nesta approached his cot. He glanced over to her and gave him a smile. A sleepy, drug-induced smile. “Nurse Nesta.”

“Major,” she replied, sitting next to his bed. “How are you feeling this afternoon?”

“Feeling great. Ready to get back out there.”

“Really now?” She asked, feeling his head for fever. He’d been warm after getting sick and she wanted to check and be sure they hadn’t missed some sign of infection setting in. His skin was cool as could be now. “So this morning was just a reaction to the breakfast porridge?”

He got quiet immediately and rolled his eyes.

“That’s what I thought.” She helped him sit up and checked the wounds on his back. They weren’t healing like she would have liked, but it was also likely he could have used stitches over a few of them. His burns were healing nicely though, even though she knew they still caused him quite a lot of pain. The broken arm and shoulder were the same.

Now that his shoulder was set correctly, it was all about keeping him still, which seemed to be a continual problem for him.

“I can’t sit here forever,” he claimed. “I’ll go insane.”

“You need something to occupy your mind,” Nesta said. “I’ll bring you some books.”

Cassian snorted. “Your romances? I’ll pass.”

Nesta huffed and shook her head. “Has anyone ever told you how difficult a man you are?”

“On many occasions,” Cassian noted. “Mostly women.”

Nesta sighed and helped him fall back against his pillows. “I’ll be back.”

“Good,” he muttered with a yawn as she walked away. After telling her fellow nurses she’ll be back in a moment, Nesta exited the tent and walked to the one just across the way from it, where the nurses slept. She strode to her tent in the far corner and grabbed an old western romance that he would surely read if bored enough, then pulled a suitcase from underneath her cot and popped it open.

The old, folded-up wooden chess board that sat inside had once belonged to her father. They used to play often, before the death of Nesta’s mother.

All the pieces were slightly dusty, but still in good shape. She picked up one of the ivory pawns, wiping it off with the apron tied around her waist, careful not to get any blood or antiseptic lotion on it. Without the dust coating it, the piece shined and she replaced it in its home before cleaning off each piece. She closed the suitcase, carrying it, the book, and a small, foldable tray back across the camp, and into the med tent.

As soon as Cassian saw her, he zeroed in on the case. “What’s that?”

“First,” she said, sitting down and holding the book out for him. “I brought you this.”

His face twisted with a twinge of pain as he reached out and took it, opening it and flipping through it. He paused on a random page and read a few lines. His eyes widened. “This is…explicit.”

Nesta’s cheeks reddened.

“It’s a romance,” he groaned.

“It’s an old western,” she defended. “It’s one of my favorites. It’s a very good book.”

Rolling his eyes, Cassian sat it on the side table, but pointed at the suitcase, which she had set down to unfold the tray. “And what’s that?” He repeated.

Nesta set it on the end of his cot and opened it. “Until I’m needed, we’ll play chess.”

Cassian stared at her for a moment before repeating, “Chess?”

She lifted a brow as she set up the board, on top of the tray. “You’re complaining about the forms of entertainment I offer?”

Cassian hesitated, and Nesta secretly liked that hesitation. For once, a comment made by her actually made him think. Usually, he was so quick on his feet. She liked it when he wasn’t.

“Fine,” he said, at last, clearing his throat. “But, it’s been a long time since I’ve played. You may have to refresh my memory.”

She suppressed her smile, moving the tray just next to his bed, so it would be within his reach. “I can do that.”

He nodded, grunting as he got himself into a sitting position. Nesta made a move toward him, but he held up a hand, letting him know he could do it on his own.

Even if it was just barely.

She laid out the pieces, almost reverently, but quickly and efficiently. She didn’t have to think about where the pieces went and before he knew it, the board was set in front of them. The white pieces sat on his side of the board, the black on her own. She gestured for him to make a move.

He reached for one of the pieces in the front, but then pulled his hand back. Twice, he repeated the movement, before clearing his throat and saying, “Ladies first.”

“That’s not how chess works, Major,” she chuckled. “White goes first, black second.”

He nodded and stared back down at the board. “Right.”

Picking up one of the pawns, Cassian moved it diagonally, as if it were a checker.

Nesta blinked, waiting for him to move it back or chuckle as if he were playing a joke. “That’s not how you move a pawn forward.”

His cheeks heated and she knew he was embarrassed. “Well not all of us grew up as well off as you were.”

Eyebrows raising, Nesta was unable to stop the surprised chuckle from bubbling from her lips. “Excuse you, sir?”

“I’m just saying, only spoiled, rich girls grew up playing chess.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but couldn’t bring herself to be angry at his words. “You don’t know how to play chess, do you?”

“I told you I would need your help.” He wasn’t looking at her, just the board and pieces.

“When’s the last time you played chess?” She asked.

He shrugged. “Never.”

Nesta stared at him for a moment, waiting for an explanation. “Never?”

Cassian’s head fell back and he groaned. “Nurse, are you going to make me ask you to explain the rules to me or do I have to make a fool of myself any longer?”

Nesta pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. “Very well.”

She went on to explain the rules to him, then just to make sure she was not setting him up for failure, she explained the rules to him, again.

The pawn can move one square, unless it is the first time they move, then they can move two. It can’t move backwards. They can capture pieces on either space, diagonally, in front of them.

The knight moves in an L shape. Don’t ask why.

Bishop is a bit of a roamer. It can move in diagonally, as many squares as it wishes.

The rook can move both horizontally and vertically, as many squares as it wishes, as well.

The Queen is basically the best, most important piece. She can move however she wishes, wherever she wishes.

Cassian stared at the board thoughtfully. “Hmm. And the king, again?”

Nesta chuckled, quietly. “He can move only one square in any direction.”

“And he decides who wins the game?” Cassian asked, head cocked to the side as he stared at the board, trying to imagine it all.

“More or less, yes,” Nesta said, watching him study the board. “When a player attacks the other’s king, it’s called a check. A checkmate, or the win, is what happens when the opposing king can no longer make any legal moves.”

“So you must protect the king at all costs, then?” Cassian asked. “That’s the purpose of the other pieces?”

“It is,” Nesta nodded.

“And that’s why the queen is such an important piece?” he continued, meeting her gaze. “Why she has the most freedom? To protect her king?”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “Speaking like that, I cannot believe that you don’t admire a good romance novel.”

“I already told you, I don’t think women are meant to stay home and do nothing but become mothers,” he replied, reaching out and moving his own piece properly this time. “However, a boring book about two people falling in love? No, thank you, ma’am.”

“Falling in love isn’t boring,” she defended, moving her own piece.

He grunted in answer, making his move.

Nesta looked at him, gauging his non-reply. “Have you ever been in love, Major?”

“Now who’s asking the personal questions,” he muttered, waiting for her to take her turn. She did, silently waiting for him to answer. He picked up the piece, studying the board, though barely anything had been done to need strategy yet. “No. I haven’t.”

Nesta watched him for a moment before looking back down at the board. “Interesting.”

Cassian moved his piece at last. “Don’t worry, plenty of women have been in love with me, I just haven’t returned the feeling.”

Nesta couldn’t help but bark a laugh. “Of course you would think so.”

Cassian’s grin told her it was all just a joke, but Nesta had no doubt that Cassian had had his fair share of women throughout the years.

“What about you?” He asked. “I know about your ex, of course, but have you ever been in love?”

It was Nesta’s turn to be quiet, but she pretended to be thinking over a move. “Yes,” she finally admitted, moving one of her knights, which had finally been unblocked by her pawns. “At least, I think so, at least. Things with Tom were…complicated.”

“Complicated doesn’t sound like it’s a good thing,” he replied, mirroring her own move.

She narrowed her eyes at him, finally catching on to how he’d been playing. She said nothing about the game though, and continued on. “There’s a reason we aren’t together anymore, if you recall.”

Nesta moved another piece and he asked, “Would you go back to him? If you found out he’d been waiting for you?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, still staring at the board, if only to keep from having to look at him. “His family was much better off than mine, which was the reason for our engagement anyways. I came here to keep my sisters from having to do so.”

“That doesn’t sound like love,” Cassian murmured, taking his turn.

“And what makes you such an expert on the subject?” Nesta snapped.

Cassian slowly met her eyes once he set down his knight. He didn’t look offended by her tone. Instead, he remained quiet for a moment, then said, “I may not waste my time reading romance novels, and I may have never been in love, nurse, but I have plenty of experience in what love is not.”

She couldn’t place it, but she didn’t like why his voice became so…sad when he said it. “I didn’t mean to react in such a way,” she replied, not even paying attention to the moves she was making at this point. “I’m just not…accustomed to talking to anyone about these sorts of things. Especially a patient.”

He nodded. “I get it.”

Nesta nodded and broke his gaze as her eyes settled back on the board. After a moment, she moved her queen and said, “Check.”

Cassian blinked, eyes darting to the board, trying to find how his king was in jeopardy. Once he saw it, he tried to figure a way out of it, but after five minutes of thinking, he knocked his king down in surrender.

Nesta suppressed her smile as she outstretched her hand. “Good game, Major.”

He chuckled and shook her hand. “Nice lie, nurse.”

“Perhaps we can play again tomorrow,” Nesta asked, with a questioning tone.

Cassian met her eyes, and the edge in them softened as he said, quietly, “I would like that.”

She nodded and began putting it away as a few nurses entered the tent with big boxes in their arms. “Looks like we got some care packages from Velaris, gentlemen.”

Cassian’s brows rose, and Nesta chuckled at the excitement that flooded through the tent from those who were awake. In a war, it was the little things that made it all better.

Nesta placed the chessboard beneath Cassian’s cot and rose to help the nurses go through the boxes. With everything they pulled out, there was an announcement.

We’ve got candies!

Homemade breads and jams!

The funnies from the newspapers!

Tea!

Nesta reached into the box and pulled out a big carton and announced, “Cigarettes!”

That one got a round of applause, but nowhere near the number of cheers that the whiskey got. It went on for another few minutes, and then for the first time in quite some time, something that resembled joy could be felt in their little war camp.

As the goodies were dispersed, Nesta’s eyes kept trailing to Cassian.

She was surprised to find his eyes on her as well. Carrying one of the small bottles of the cheap whiskey that had been sent, she found herself standing beside his cot. She set the bottle down on the side table, along with a pack of cigarettes, and said, “Might not be the brand you prefer, but it’s better than nothing.”

“I’d drink anything right about now, brand doesn’t matter,” he chuckled. “If you could possibly get me some of that sweet bread and blackberry jam though, it might make it just a bit easier to go down.”

She shook her head, saying, “You’re unbelievable.” But she knew she would get it for him, she’d make sure of it.

Because his smile was the first thing that made her own appear without being forced in quite a while.

#i’ll be seeing you #snacmc ibsy #nessian ibsy #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #1940s au #period au

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jkstompers · 4 years

Text

just to study | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: your seat partner asks if you’re free after class, just to study.

genre: fluff, college!au, established friendship, flirtationship, mutual pining, they go to a ‘frat’ party together, also yugyeom! a sweetheart<3 we love him.

warnings: mature!!, mentions of alcohol + alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, strong language, SEXUAL TENSION, mentions of dick sucking??, hints of a wet dream on oc’s end, very strong urges to kiss each other but no kisses today </3, that’s pretty much it!

word count: 7.4k (i...kinda went overboard)

authors’ note: hello!! this is a pt. 2 to sleepyhead! it’s based a few weeks after so yeah <3 also the pacing is kind of weird but… i don’t really know how being drunk is so............(＞人＜) i’m sorry about that! one scene was inspired by this post haha it was just so cute to think about i had to do it. ALSO i literally haven’t taken anatomy since high school so i just used random terms from quizlet T_T pls excuse that as well! but otherwise, enjoy!!!!!!!!! (っ^_^)っ

(if u see any typos...ignore them pls T_T)

side note: imagine jk looking like this when he goes to the party lmao classic fboy look with the camo bomber and his piercings ugh <3

banner pic creds here ! <3

you made it to class on time today, woke to your alarm and even had enough time to eat breakfast before you came. in a particularly good mood, you made your way up the stairs to the row jungkook was sitting in, hoping that the seat next to him was empty (you didn’t have to hope, jungkook always saved the seat next to him for you, no matter what.)

“good morning, ___!” jungkook’s voice greets you the same as always as soon as you appear next to him. he moves his bag out of the way for you to sit down.

he looks especially cute today. his long floppy hair framing his face, his sweet smile beaming up to you. you wonder how dumb you looked drooling over him for a minute before you replied, “hi jungkook, how are you?” with the same smile on your face that you show him every time he sees you. it never changes, but it never fails to make jungkook’s heart skip a beat.

“i’m doing okay, you?” he answers while you pull out your laptop.

you didn’t have a chance to reply before your professor starts talking. informing the class about the test that’s planned at the end of the month, finals in two months, and then dropping the bomb that there’s a quiz tomorrow about the things you’ve learned in the past week. a slight panic takes over you, although you didn’t know why, you understood what he was teaching and you were retaining all of the information well. but when the professor pulls up all the information on the screen to review it all, all of the words and pictures overwhelm you.

to make things worse, jungkook is to your left, not paying attention to a word your professor is saying. instead, playing some game where he has to click his touchpad an obnoxious amount of times. your attention is split between jungkook’s erratic tapping and the notes that the professor projects onto the screen, even though his computer barely made any noise, his incessant movement was distracting you.

“jungkook, you’re taking notes and playing a game?” your voice comes out as a rushed whisper. there’s a snort that comes from him before he nods. you couldn’t be mad at him. “there’s a quiz on all of this tomorrow, you know?”

“i know,” he continues to tap and click, the motion growing incredibly annoying. you didn’t know why you couldn’t have just tried to block it out, but he was just so close to you and admittedly, you looked at his hands, a lot. the way that his fingers tapped against his keyboard and his veins that accentuate his already beautiful hands, it was free art you could look at, how could you not? at this point, you’re contemplating holding his hand to make him stop tapping.

you were in the middle of typing when he finally stops, leaning back and stretching his arms up into the air. you let out a sigh of relief, until he starts again. apparently he reached the next level on his game, tapping even faster, if that was even fucking possible.

quietly, you groan. turning your attention solely on him. you place your hand on top of his, the tapping ceasing almost immediately. “please, jungkook, you’re distracting me.”

he looks at your hand before he looks at you, his chocolate doe eyes wide to the action. he gulps, “sorry.”

you remove your hand, focusing back to the presentation. jungkook feels the heat from his cheeks travel to his hand. the feeling of your hand on his wasn’t something he was expecting to experience today, but he wants nothing more than for you to do it again. he exits the game tab and changes his focus to the lecture.

or moreso, you focusing on the lecture.

you look so cute. your cheek pressed up against your fist. he stares at the way that your forehead creases in concentration. he taps on your arm that’s resting on the table, “hey, you look like you’re stressed out.”

you turn your head slightly to look over to him. “that’s because i am,” you send him a quick smile before you go back to looking at the projection.

he furrows his eyebrows, “why? you’re smart, there’s no need to worry about what you get on this.” you were an a+ student, never anything less than that. jungkook knows that you ace every test that you take, so he doesn’t quite understand why you’re so stressed.

“because jungkook,” you groan. you expected a lot from yourself, sure b’s were okay, but a’s and a+’s were what you wanted and what you thought would make you feel satisfied. there was no way you could explain this without sounding like an overachiever. so you just sigh, “i’m just not really prepared.”

jungkook thinks of the perfect way to spend more time with you, snapping his fingers before suggesting, “we should study together after class, studies show that studying with someone else will give you an a+, guaranteed.” the confidence in his voice makes you smile, and helps you ease up a little bit.

you raise an eyebrow, a laugh creeping up from your lungs. “source for that statistic, sir?”

he taps his right temple, the gesture making you snort. “no but seriously, i’ll help you out,” he assures. his laptop turns towards you to show you all the notes he took, different words highlighted and colored differently.

you act like you think about it, staying quiet for a minute or so. but you know the answer was yes no matter what. “just to study?” you tease. jungkook raises his eyebrows in surprise, an amused smile on his face, “just kidding, we can go to mine? i owe you for the ride you gave me like two weeks ago.” you tap your fingers against your laptop nervously, your teeth taking in your bottom lip as you ask. you haven’t had a guy over to your apartment, not since you’ve moved in. there’s a certain anxiousness that comes with the suggestion.

jungkook nods, “sounds good.”

“okay, again.” you brush your hair behind your ears, preparing yourself once more for another pass of the flashcards. the two of you have been at it with these cards for the past hour or so, you were determined to get these right no matter how long it took. jungkook knew you were gonna get it down, you only had three more cards, these ones specifically stumping you.

“aponeuroses,” he looks at the card and then to you.

“connective tissue that forms a broad sheet which attach muscle to bone or muscle to other muscles,” you speak confidently. jungkook nods, moving onto the next card of the set of three.

“endomysium,” he reads the card. you hesitate on this one for a second, he plays with the corner of the card until you snap your fingers.

“that’s the connective tissue surrounding the… the— uh, oh! muscle fiber?” your brain works extra hard. jungkook rewards you with another nod, flipping to the last card.

“fascia.”

“dense connective tissue,” you begin, pausing to think of the rest of the answer. you start biting your thumb nail, knowing there’s more to it but it’s not coming to your brain quick enough.

jungkook just stares, watching your facial expressions as you search for the answer in your brain. this could be the worst crush he’s ever had, he thinks you’re cute when you’re just sitting there, thinking. he doesn’t remember ever liking someone this much, most of the time his crushes went away after a few weeks or so. but it’s almost been an entire year since he’s started crushing on you, and it still hasn’t stopped. you still manage to find a way to make his thoughts surround you.

“separates and holds individual tissues? it’s the one that extends into the tendons, right?” you perk up after a minute or so. your brain finally coming up with the answer. you blame jungkook’s presence for slowing you down. maybe you shouldn’t have accepted this offer to study together, because how could you focus when jeon jungkook is sitting right in front of you?

“you’re amazing,” he praises, setting the flashcards down onto the table. you blush at the compliment, jungkook takes notice, but he doesn’t mind, he thinks pink is pretty on you. he’s never wanted to kiss your cheeks as much as he did now, and trust, he’s thought about it many, many times. “all done?” he asks after staring at you for the longest time.

you nod, “just gonna highlight these terms to review them later so i can get it down 100%.”

jungkook watches as you diligently reread your notes and highlight them. an apple on the table taking his attention away for a second when he realizes he hasn’t eaten at all today. he takes a bite, the loud crunch noise seemingly startling the both of you. it makes you turn your head and raise an eyebrow towards him.

“sorry,” he chews, “hungry.”

your stare lingers a little longer than you wanted it to. his cheeks are full of apple, you can’t help but laugh a little. “there’s still the sticker on it,” you point out.

he turns the apple around to see the blue sticker. peeling it off, he holds it on his fingertip, an idea sprouting in his mind to see that sweet smile of yours again. so he places the sticker on your cheek, your gaze moving from your screen to him and then to the fruit sticker now stuck onto your cheek. “get it? ‘cause you’re sweet like this apple is,” he smiles.

oh my god. you blush embarrassingly, your entire face flushed pink as you hide your cheeks behind your hands. he laughs at your reaction. jungkook was feeling bold today, so he moves forward, gently taking your hands away from your face to see the cute pink tint he caused. he sits back, admiring your pretty face.

you feel yourself burning hotter and hotter the longer he stares, looking everywhere but his face, too scared to make eye contact. you look back to your computer screen, “um— there’s pasta in the fridge— if you’re hungry, i made it last night.” you offer, but he declines politely, telling you that he has to leave pretty soon because his friends are expecting him to join them today.

begrudgingly, you watch as jungkook packs his things up. he thinks about how content he felt hanging out with you today, and how he wanted to do it again, as soon as possible. a thought pops into his head before he opens the door to leave. he turns on his heel.

you weren’t expecting the sudden turn, accidentally bumping into his chest. “oof! sorry.”

“it’s alright,” he laughs, helping you steady yourself by holding your shoulders. “i just wanted to ask— uh, my friends are throwing a party tomorrow night, do you— do you wanna come?” his words come out jumbled, jungkook never fails to trip on his words whenever he’s near you.

tomorrow night...it’s a friday tomorrow, the quiz is tomorrow, why the fuck not? a stress reliever from all the studying you’ve done. “sure,” you answer after a minute or so of deliberation. you look up at him with a smile, suddenly realizing how close the two of you are.

your eyes flicker between his eyes and his lips, the close proximity makes you hold your breath. “great! i can pick you up? be your DD?” he quirks his head, a smile that matches yours on his face.

you nod, “yeah, i’d like that.” with that, jungkook takes a step back, widening the space between you both as his right hand goes to hold the strap of his bag.

“okay, i’ll text you the details.” before he turns around, turning the knob of your front door and letting himself out. before the door closes, he sends you a wave, one which you reflect as he pulls the door closed. you move up and lock the door, your forehead resting against the cold metal slab.

you wonder if this crush will ever advance into something more. neither of you really push the agenda, most of the time just cutely flirting with each other and only talking to each other during class. maybe this party will be a chance to further the bond the two of you have. you could only wish that you could drop this nervous shield that pops up everytime you’re around him, but jungkook is just so cool. the campus heartthrob, everyone wants to be him or be with him.

for the rest of the day, jungkook seems to occupy your mind, as he always does. when you get to sleep, the fantasies of jungkook’s lips on yours drift you into a deep sleep, one that eventually leads to a dream that has you rubbing your thighs together. his hands were all over your body, his cologne that you were so familiar with tormenting your nose, it all felt too real. so when you woke up to the sound of your alarm, sweat beaded at your hairline. you took deep breaths, cementing the fact that he isn’t here, and he certainly isn’t doing those things with you right now.

it was not helping that you dreamt of him sexually on the day of your quiz, the one that you were immensely stressing over. now, you’re gonna have to walk into class, act normal around jungkook even though your brain produced pornographic images of him, (it’s not the first time, but it’s the first time you’ve had to face him right after it happened) and ace this quiz.

you tried almost everything you could to have cleared your brain of your dream sequence. taking a shower, eating breakfast, studying once more, etc. but when you’re walking into the lecture hall, flashes of the dream and the sound of his imagined moan echo in your mind.

you walk up the stairs with your eyes down, not sure if you could make eye contact with jungkook without turning red. “hey, ___, good morning!” the familiar voice greets you.

“morning,” you reply, dryly. taking the seat next to him and silently taking your laptop out, waiting for the professor to start the quiz. jungkook seemed a bit taken aback by your cold answer, but he took into account that you’re probably just super nervous and stressed out because of the quiz, so he doesn’t take it too personally. instead, just sitting back in his chair and waiting patiently to take the quiz as well.

at this point, you were psyching yourself out, swearing that you already forgot all of the terms. if you were quizzed on the parts of male anatomy, specifically jungkook’s, then maybe you could ace it, but the terms that you were working oh so hard to memorize yesterday slip from your mind. when the professor tells you to separate and start the quiz, you start to bite your thumb nail again.

jungkook takes a look over at you, noticing the bad habit of yours. he gently takes a hold of your arm, pulling your thumb away from your teeth. the action causing you to make eye contact with him and his big doe eyes that hold so much love and light. you find yourself a bit speechless then, too many thoughts running around in your mind.

he whispers, “you’ll do great, okay?” the statement soothing your nerves. his voice somehow makes your body relax, even though you thought you would freak out if you made any sort of contact with him.

“you— you too, good luck,” you mutter. a half smile on your face. you were grateful that jungkook broke you out of your trance, his words of encouragement suddenly placing you in the testing state of mind. the images from last night's dream seem to put themselves away for now.

the next twenty minutes are complete silence. everyone focused on the questions before them. of course, you zoomed through the quiz, prepared for the trick questions and the harder ones that come up. jungkook finishes after you. it wasn’t a surprise, jungkook didn’t even have to try, you swear you’ve never seen him stress out before. nobody was perfect, you believed that, but jeon jungkook was the closest to it.

“okay, class! the quiz will be graded by tonight hopefully, you’re free to leave,” your professor alerts the class. jungkook waits patiently until you’re standing, following you down the stairs and out the door.

you decide to speak first, since you greeted him with such a dry response this morning. it wasn’t his fault that you dreamed of him on top of you, so why were you punishing him for it? “how’d you think you did?” you asked, turning to look at him.

he shrugs, “good i guess, i think i fucked up on one or two questions.”

“was it the striation part? i think i messed up on that one too.”

he shakes his head, “you know you aced that, don’t lie.”

you stay silent, the two of you walking to the campus parking lot. neither of you engage in conversation as you usually do. the images of last night’s dream slipping into your consciousness once again. you try to shake your head, to rid yourself of the thoughts. nothing else to distract you from them because jungkook was oddly silent the entire walk. you fear that he can actually read your mind and see all of your thoughts. if he could, he doesn’t mention it. not saying one word to you until he walks you to your car, greeting you with a ‘see you next class!’ before leaving to go to his car. not even mentioning the party to you, you start to wonder if he regrets inviting you. up until you heard your phone ring when you parked in the lot of your apartment complex.

[10:24 am] jungkook: hey! forgot to remind u about the party 😫

[10:24 am] jungkook: ur still down to come, right?

[10:28 am] you: hi! yeah :)

[10:28 am] you: is there a dress code or smth? haha

[10:29 am] jungkook: not that i know of 😂

[10:30 am] jungkook: u can wear anything u want

[10:30 am] jungkook: ur cute whatever u wear

[10:31 am] you: oh stop it jeon ur making me blush

[10:32 am] you: but tell me :( should i wear something casual? pants? a dress?

[10:34 am] jungkook: 😂

[10:34 am] jungkook: it’s kind of like a frat party…

[10:35 am] jungkook: so anything is okay

[10:37 am] you: ah okay

[10:37 am] you: i’ll surprise u then ;)

[10:40 am] jungkook: alright :)

[10:41 am] jungkook: i’ll come by around 9 to pick u up? sound good?

[10:42 am] you: yeah! gives me enough time to nap and get ready lol

[10:44 am] jungkook: great :) see u then cutie

you wake up from your nap around one, you had more than enough time for you to get ready for a party. so you decide to clean your apartment first, little chores to waste time before you get yourself dolled up. when you finished, it was around seven thirty. you washed your face, brushed your teeth, all that good stuff before sliding on a simple black bodycon that you got last summer. styling your hair and spraying on your favorite perfume before looking at yourself in the mirror. this wasn’t too much, right? lots of people wear stuff like this to frat parties, so you didn’t find it too fancy. the notification sound from your phone goes off, you move to check and see if it was who you were expecting.

[8:54 pm] jungkook: i’m here :)

[8:54 pm] you: ahh gimme a sec i need to pee haha

[8:55 pm] jungkook: take ur time cutie

[8:56 pm] jungkook: i’m right in front

jungkook only really had to wait about five minutes. the visual of you walking out of your apartment doors, looking the way you did, was breathtaking. his jaw drops, mouth slightly agape as he watches you walk up to his car through the passenger window. you are so gorgeous. it’s probably the first time jungkook’s seen you in clothes that really compliment your figure, most of the time you show up to class in hoodies and sweaters. so greedily, he takes in the way the dress hugs your curves deliciously. he shakes the thoughts from his head to get out of the car and open the door for you.

“what a gentleman,” you tease, getting into the car.

he joins you soon after, “you look...gorgeous.” jungkook doesn’t seem so shy now, his eyes taking in your beautiful self.

“thank you,” you blush under his stare. “is it too much?”

“no! no— not at all, all eyes will be on you tonight.” he smiles, turning the car on. now you were able to gawk over him. a simple outfit, all black with a black and white camo bomber. his side profile is perfect, his long hair draping over his face so gracefully and his piercings somehow sparkling in the dark of the car.

he doesn’t drive too far, somewhere in the suburbs where the big houses are. a huge iron gate in the front, seemingly too fancy for a frat party setting. jungkook rolls his window down to greet someone waiting in front of the gate with a couple of other guys.

“jeon! you’re late dude,” one of the guys gives him a handshake through the window.

“sorry man, i’m here now though,” jungkook laughs. the guy giving him the greenlight and opening the gate for him, jungkook parks inside on their stone driveway, decorated with a fountain and a beautiful garden.

“your friend lives here?” you inquire, impressed by the look of the place.

he nods, “fancy right? his parents are ceo’s.” makes sense, and it would also make sense as to why they were throwing a frat party here, rich sons always seem to stir up trouble whenever they’re bored.

he steps out of the car to open the door for you, always a gentleman. he takes your hand and helps you out, the two of you walking to the huge open double doors. as soon as you walk in, the smell of alcohol hits your nose, you try your best not to cringe. the blare of the speakers is the second thing you notice, along with the shouting of jungkook’s friends greeting him. “who’s this?” one of them asks, referring to you.

jungkook seems to hesitate at first, not really knowing how to introduce you. he settles by saying, “this is ___!” not attaching any ‘friend’, ‘classmate’, or anything to the introduction. his friend holds his hand out to shake yours.

you take it with a smile on your face, “i’m yugyeom, it’s nice to meet you!” a smile that reflects yours is on his face, it made you feel welcome. you were never really the type to go to parties, your time is spent working and/or going to school, but this interaction helps you ease up a little more.

“hello, yugyeom!” you reply, shouting over the music.

“do you wanna take a shot?” he asks. pointing to the enormous kitchen where they’re housing all the alcohol, you look to jungkook first who’s paying more attention to his phone rather than the conversation you were just having.

you shrug, “why not?”

yugyeom leads the two of you to the kitchen, jungkook following behind you blindly. he looks up from his phone, done with whatever business he was dealing with to ask, “where are we going?”

“taking a shot,” you answer, pointing to yugyeom who’s already pouring three shots.

“dude, i’m not drinking, don’t pour three.” jungkook tries to stop him before he fills up the third shot glass but his arm knocks yugyeom’s in the process, the bottle spilling the clear liquid into the third shot glass.

“i’ll take two,” you suggest, feeling a bit wild and down to venture out of your comfort zone.

yugyeom smiles at this, “i like her, jeon.” he hands you the two shot glasses full of vodka, jungkook stands next to you and watches as you down the first shot. your face cringing as soon as the alcohol touches your tongue.

“you didn’t even give her a chaser,” jungkook notices, scolding yugyeom who's already downed his shot and is sucking on a lime. “here, suck,” holding a slice of lime up to your lips. his choice of words disorienting you, especially since he was holding the lime up to your mouth instead of just handing it to you. your eyes flicker between the lime and his face, but nevertheless, you suck. sinking your teeth into the sour fruit. jungkook’s eyes zeroed in on how your lips wrap around the slice, slightly grazing his fingers. it’s not long before you’re making a cute scrunched up face from the sourness. “good,” he praises. you don’t deny the slight burn your lower belly felt when he said that to you. you swear he was making sex eyes to you, but you couldn’t tell. he broke eye contact with you soon after, throwing the fruit into the trash below the table that the alcohol was perched on.

yugyeom hands you another lime for your second shot, this time no jungkook to hold the fruit for you. the second shot burning down your throat with the lime chasing after, both yugyeom and jungkook cheer, congratulating you for being a trooper (even though two shots were their warmups).

the next hour or so, jungkook brings you around. he introduces you to his friends and making conversation with them. one certain group, you didn’t really enjoy. a group of five girls, clearly swarming jungkook as soon as he turned around from talking to another one of his friends. the girls ask how he’s been doing, all of the basic conversation starters. when jungkook tries to introduce you, they all turn to you and give you a little head nod before turning their attention back to jungkook. he stands there, conversing with them longer than he had with any of his other friends, and you found yourself getting, hm, jealous.

so you search around the room crowded room, looking for some way out. your eyes spot yugyeom in the backyard through the huge sliding doors, sitting on one of those lawn chairs with the one next to him empty. you decide to leave the group you were currently getting pushed out of and join yugyeom. he notices you when you step onto the grass, trying your best not to sink into the dirt with your heels. “you doing alright? where’s jungkookie?” he asks, sitting up.

you plop down onto the lawn chair next to him. “he’s in there,” you point to the house, “with five girls.”

the last bit of the sentence makes him laugh, a cackle where he holds his stomach because he was laughing so hard. “do you want a shot?” he offers after he recovers from his fit, pulling a tequila bottle out from nowhere.

but you agree, “two, please.” he fills the two shot glasses, but not completely like he did with the vodka earlier. there were no limes, or any type of chaser for you to take around, so you take the two shots like ripping off a band-aid, quick.

“you’re a funny girl,” yugyeom compliments when you’ve downed the shots.

“thanks?” you cough, the feeling of the alcohol still burning your nose and throat, “what did i say that was funny?”

“i think it’s because i’m tipsy, but that joke you made about jungkook being with five girls was hilarious.” he slaps his knee, almost making himself laugh up a storm again, but you weren’t laughing.

you raised an eyebrow, speaking with a serious tone. “it wasn’t a joke, he’s in there with five girls.”

yugyeom tries to collect himself, sitting properly on the lawn chair when he asks you to clarify, “you mean he’s fucking them? or he’s talking to them?”

you’re silent for a second before replying, why did you say it like he was in there fucking them? maybe it’s because he might as well be, so engrossed in whatever the hell they were saying to even notice that you were gone. “just talking to them,” you reply.

“that’s what i thought, jungkook isn’t like that anymore,” yugyeom nods his head, pouring another shot out for you.

“anymore?” you ask. he hands you the shot, you hesitate this time, starting to feel the effects of the first four shots you took. he doesn’t push you to take it. he just leans back onto the lawn chair as he sighs.

“you could say he’s retired,” he shrugs.

the term makes you laugh, “...a retired fuckboy?” you sit back into the lawn chair as well, looking up to the night sky. the shot glass forgotten on the table next to you. your body feels like it’s floating.

“yeah, he hasn’t really been doing stuff like that recently,” yugyeom spills. you stay quiet after he feeds you this information. yugyeom offhandedly telling you that you shouldn’t be jealous makes you feel guilty. why were you even jealous? jungkook was technically still just a friend to you. just because the two of you flirt every now and then doesn’t mean you’re together. of course he would be surrounded by girls, just look at him!

“there you are! i was looking all over for you,” jungkook interrupts your inner monologue. his voice comes from across the lawn, you look up to see him walking over to you and yugyeom.

“hi, jungkookie,” you smile up at him. the alcohol having more of an effect on you the longer you let it sit in your stomach.

he almost freezes up at the nickname, looking over to yugyeom and asking, “did you tell her to call me that?”

yugyeom holds his hands up in innocence, “i didn’t tell her to do anything, she’s like five or six shots deep though.”

you take the shot that was forgotten on the table and down it. “six,” you clarify.

“alright, slow down, iron liver,” jungkook jokes. yugyeom stands from the lawn chair, receiving jungkook’s telepathic signals to get the fuck up to he could talk and hang out with you.

“play beer pong with me later, ___! i’m gonna go look for eunwoo,” yugyeom points to you, giving you a thumbs up before leaving the backyard and moving into the house.

“feeling okay? think you might throw up soon?” jungkook asks, replacing yugyeom in the chair next to you.

“feel like i’m surfing, you know? like wavy,” you answer. the feeling was hard to explain, you weren’t dizzy but at the same time your brain was telling you to stop moving, even though you were completely still.

“ah, you’re getting there,” jungkook snorts. you didn’t have much willpower to answer, so the two of you sit there in a comfortable silence before a group of people coming towards, all greeting jungkook and you. they offer you a red cup, despite your current predicament. leaning against the chair and your droopy eyes, telling them that you’ve taken too many shots. a lightweight at her peak.

jungkook tries to deny it for you, but with a smile, you accept the cup. it was filled with the fancy mixed alcohol juice they had. “thank you,” you place the cup onto the table, “i’ll drink it.... later..” your words begin to draw themselves out. jungkook somehow finding a way to make the entire group leave, making it just the two of you again.

“give it to me, you’re starting to slur your words.” his hand is open, laying on the table and waiting for you to surrender the cup.

your eyes flicker from the red cup, to his face, then to his hand. a smirk on your face when you hold the cup up to your lips, tilting it back and drinking the cursed juice. you weren’t able to down it all, it was too much, you drank maybe ⅔ of it. you cough, taking in a deep breath as you try to steady yourself.

you weren’t sure if it was because you were drunk, but the way that his face looks in the moonlight was so pretty. so you just had to tell him. leaning forward, you speak, almost a whisper, “you’re so handsome.” you drag your finger across the expanse of jungkook’s hand. “did you know i have no gag reflex?” you smile, not your typical sweet smile that he’s used to, but a devilish grin.

jungkook’s eyes widen, his cheeks flushing immediately at your remark. “alright, you drank way too much.” he takes the red cup from your hands, dumping it out onto the grass in front of you both.

“hey, i wasn’t done,” you pout, but jungkook didn’t give you much time to mourn your spilled drink before he was holding your arm, lifting you from the lawn chair you were sitting on. “where are we going?” you ask, trailing behind him with your hand in his.

“gonna get you some water and something to eat,” he answers. the two of you move through the house, jungkook pushes through groups of people and makes sure you’re safe behind him.

“i have to pee.” you tip toe to tell him your emergency in his ear. he stops at the stairs, knowing a bathroom where no one else goes. his friend specifically telling him to use that bathroom when they have parties because the other ones get way too gross.

he brings you up the stairs to the guest bedroom, opening the door to reveal one of the biggest rooms you’ve seen. “the bathroom is there,” jungkook points to the door on the left. you nod, your wobbly legs making their way to the toilet.

jungkook sits on the bed patiently, waiting for you to finish. he hears the flush and the sound of the sink running, the door opens and you’re coming out of the bathroom, pulling your dress down. “are we gonna have sex?” you utter, slurring the end of your sentence. your alcohol poisoned mind taking over your ability to speak.

his eyes widen at the question. “no! no— oh my god, this is just the room with the cleanest bathroom, we’re not—“

you’re next to him now, “you don’t want to?” you pout. glassy eyes looking into his.

“no! i mean, yes, i want to but— fuck, just— just not now, yeah?” jungkook stumbles over his words, his face blushing a blood red. your pretty face peering up at him makes him even more flustered, his hands start to sweat.

“okay,” you nodded. your drunken brain deciding to stop the interrogation of jungkook’s desire for you. to which jungkook lets out a sigh of relief, taking your hand and bringing you out of the room, down the stairs, and out into the driveway. he brings you to his car, opening the passenger door for you. “wait, are we leaving already? yugyeomie wants me to play beer pong with him,” you complain, wiggling your hand from his grasp.

goosebumps appear on your arm when you make it outside of the house. jungkook notices when he turns around to look at you. without a second thought, he takes his jacket off and places it over your shoulders. the newfound warmth shielding you from the cold night. he didn’t mind the breeze, especially since he was still recovering from the stunt you pulled in the guest room.

“we can come back later if you want, let’s just go grab something to eat first so you won’t regret this tomorrow morning.” his explanation is pretty solid according to your drunken brain, so you oblige, moving to sit in his passenger seat.

he joins you in the driver’s seat not long after. “can we get mcdonald’s?” you ask as soon as he sits down.

a smile appears on his face as he starts the car, “sure.”

the drive made you feel a little dizzy, it makes you laugh. “you okay?” jungkook asks, but you nod your head. he’s so sweet, always asking if you’re okay, making sure you weren’t feeling too awful, etc. it only makes sense that you were falling head over heels for him.

“totally fine,” you look over to him with a smile on your face. he’s so fucking pretty, his side profile is something you could rave about for days. as he’s pulling into the mcdonald’s drive through, he’s talking into the intercom, ordering the two of you something to eat when you’re suddenly mumbling, “mcflurry, kookie, oreo mcflurry.”

he looks back to you, an amused smile on his face, “oreo mcflurry?” he repeats. you nod, “okay, anything for you.”

he reiterates the request into the intercom and the server gives him the greenlight. he drives forward and waits until the next car moves up, in the time being, he looks to you. your head laying up against the door and your eyes slowly blinking, warning him that you might fall asleep. so he reaches into his backseat, his arm looking for the water bottles that he usually keeps in his car.

“hey,” he taps your arm gently, “drink some of this first.” he hands you the water bottle, you blink slowly, trying to figure out what he was handing you. once you realize it was a water bottle, you take it, opening it and gulping some of the water down. jungkook is grabbing the food when you’re screwing the cap back on. he parks somewhere in the parking lot and tells you to start eating.

you grab your mcflurry first, the feeling of the cold ice cream on your tongue soothing your dizzy brain. “yum,” you think out loud.

jungkook laughs, taking out his hamburger while he takes out your chicken nuggets. “make sure to eat some of this, yeah? don’t want you throwing up and hating me.”

the thought makes you smile. jungkook was taking such great care of you. sure, he let you down the alcohol like it was nothing, but you never opposed to it, always taking the shot because you wanted to. now jungkook is here, taking care of you, because he wanted to. you knew that if it were anybody else, they probably would have left you at the party, letting you fend for yourself. the sudden warmth in your chest makes you want to tell jungkook everything.

with his jacket wrapped around you instead of him, you can see the bulge of his arm muscles peek out from the short sleeved shirt he was wearing. even drunk, your brain seems to travel back to the images from your dream. “you know, i had a dream about you, a reeaaaallllllyyyyy dirty dream, jeon jungkook.” you blurt out the confession before your thoughts catch up with you, the alcohol still very much blocking off the common sense part of your brain.

he tries his best not to overreact, but you had a dream about him? a dirty dream at that? it awakens something in jungkook, but he pushes it down, ignoring the feeling as he asks, “you did? what was it about?” he curious as to what you meant and what your dream entailed, but he didn’t want to push too far. especially since you were drunk and most likely just spilling everything because your brain doesn’t have the willpower to hold it back.

you stick your hand into the bag to steal some fries, stuffing them in your mouth. “oh, you don’t wanna know,” you chew.

jungkook quirks a brow, “well, was i good at least?” he jokes.

you scrunch your nose, nodding nevertheless. “too good, couldn’t even focus during the quiz because of it.”

jungkook is silent for a second. the conversation making him hot even though he wasn’t wearing his jacket anymore. so he clears his throat, trying to change the subject in a subtle manner. “is that why you were so mean to me this morning?” he pouts, connecting the dots.

you laugh at the question, “sorry, i didn’t mean to, i swear.”

with that, the rest of the time is spent eating. jungkook makes sure that you ate enough and drank enough water, the empty water bottle in his cupholder as proof. “do you want me to take you home now?” he asks, the two of you finished eating and now a silence takes over the car.

“are you going back?” you ask, fiddling with your fingers. he thinks you’ve started to sober up, or maybe have gotten to the point where you just want to sleep.

he shakes his head to your question, “honestly, i’m kind of tired, but if you want to go back, we can go.”

“no, i’m okay,” you decline the offer. jungkook laughs, starting the car again and driving back to your apartment complex.

you take this time to try to get yourself together. you know you’ll regret confessing to jungkook that you had a wet dream about him in the morning. but in the moment, it felt right to confess, (to your drunken brain of course). you tilt your head back, pushing your head against the headrest, and suddenly, you’re reminded of the stars jungkook has on his ceiling. you were silent as you admired the lights, jungkook takes a look at you when he’s stopped at a red light.

so cute, he thinks, staring up at his ceiling like it’s the real night sky. when he pulls up to your apartment complex, he wishes the night could be longer, that he could spend more time with you. he parks the car in the front, exactly where he picked you up. you’re looking to him now, your hands in your lap and your heart seemingly beating three times as fast as it usually does. it wasn’t the alcohol.

“did you have fun tonight?” he asks. his voice never fails to make you melt.

you nod, “i did.”

“i’m glad,” he smiles. there’s a small silence before he speaks once more, “also, y’know, you don’t have to stress yourself out so much, i know you might have expectations for yourself and stuff, but you should give yourself a break from time to time.”

the alcohol’s effects fading slowly from your brain when you start to realize that the entire reason jungkook invited you out was to help you destress. it makes you fall even harder, he was so thoughtful. even though a party wasn’t your scene, he invited you to give you a glimpse into how he has fun and hoped that it would help you loosen up a bit. you were grateful for the mental break he provided you.

you didn’t reply, purely because you were thinking about how much you want to kiss him right now, but it wouldn’t be right. when he speaks up again, there’s a nervous lilt in his voice, scared that he’s overstepped. “if you need anyone to help you— i don’t know, let loose? you can— you can always call me.” he scratches the back of his neck.

but you try your best to reassure him, smiling at the offer. “i will, thank you for tonight, jungkook, i really enjoyed it, despite being a lightweight.”

he laughs, staring at the way your face cutely scrunches when you giggle. he too, is fighting the urge to kiss you, because right now isn’t a good time. he wants to do it right. he doesn’t want to fuck it up with you. so instead, he hops out of the car and moves to open the door for you. helping you out of the car and walking you to your door, your hand in his.

“i’ll see you in class?” you turn to face him, squeezing his hand.

he nods, “yeah.” his signature bunny smile coming out to greet you a goodnight. “text me before you sleep?” he requests. you give him a thumbs up before he’s letting go of your hand and you’re sticking the key into your door, it’s then that you realize that you’re still wearing his jacket.

“oh!” you exclaim, taking the jacket off and handing it to him. but he holds his hand out to stop you.

“keep it, you can give it to me the next time we hang out, or something,” he suggests. you try to hide the growing smile behind a nod.

you hold onto his jacket, “goodnight, jungkook.”

he sticks his hands in his pockets, sending you another grin, “goodnight, ___.”

jungkook drives home, his empty apartment welcoming him. he plops down onto his bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes he was in because he was that tired. the events of today running through his mind.

he hopes you don’t think he was doing anything with those five girls. he saw you walk away when you did, he tried his best to escape the conversation, but they kept pulling him back. he gave up after ten tries of trying to get away, standing there for a good fifteen minutes listening to them babble about how much they missed him. jungkook had never rolled his eyes so many times in a conversation.

the talk the two of you had after was another thing taking over his mind. your dirty flirting and your dream you mentioned in the car had his imagination running all over the place. he didn’t want to push you when you explained, but he was very curious as to what he did in your dream, and how good it was for you to have it run through your mind all day.

his phone rings next to him. he turns and opens it, a smile on his face when he reads your message.

[12:32 am] you: hi jungkookieeeeeeeee

[12:33 am] you: im sleeping noww

[12:33 am] jungkook: alright cutie

[12:33 am] jungkook: goodnight! again 😂

[12:34 am] you: goodnight <3

he turns his phone off after that. looking up to his ceiling with a dumb smile on his face. his mind thinking of you and only you.

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