#Jean does appreciates it once he gets over his ego and pain and lets other people get closer to him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jeonsjiddies · 3 years

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Headlights | pjm (m)

Summary- Jimin is a fuckboi, rumor has it his tongue can make you see stars. Everyone assumes he’s this way because he just wants to have fun. No one dares look deeper, no one sees the haunted look in his eyes, the emptiness and pain that reside in their deep brown depths. Until you.

🎶 Headlights by The Classic Crime - “Please don’t face the headlights of oncoming cars alone.” 🎶

Word Count- 14.7k 🥴

Pairing- Jimin x reader

Genre- smut

Warnings- oral (female recieving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, slightly rough sex, nipple piercing? is that warning?, some depression-like symptoms/thoughts, a little self destructive behavior? Kind of.

a/n: Part of the Tatted Bangtan Series! This is the longest fic I have ever written and it is my baby. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please let me know what you think! 💕

Walking up to the frat house was intimidating, and you slowed your stride enough for Hana to reach back and yank you with her into the party. You could feel the bass of the music rattling your bones and couldn’t hear Hana as she shouted over the music to you.

“I can’t believe you made me do this!” you hissed, twisting your body around just in time to narrowly miss a drunk football player bulldozing his way through the crowd.

“What?” she shouted back.

You simply rolled your eyes and shook your head, gripping her hand tightly and following her through the overcrowded living room to the barely quieter kitchen. You took the drink she handed you and nursed it slowly, since you liked a good buzz but still wanted a clear head.

You felt his gaze before you saw him; you could feel the shivers along the back of your neck.

You turned to seek out the cause, methodically searching the crowd. Your eyes met the most beautiful pair of brown ones you’d ever seen, the strobe lights from above causing them to almost glow brighter- but that was the only light in his gaze. His eyes looked… sad. Empty.

It seemed like everything else turned blurry, and you could only focus on him in perfect clarity, every feature defined and prominent; every move he made, your eyes followed. Everything else faded away, and you only saw him. Him and his beautiful eyes, full of longing and something you couldn’t quite place.

You couldn’t help but furrow your brow in concern. Your face showed your every emotion like an open book, and you opened your mouth to ask Hana who was staring at you before she squealed, gripping your arm.

“Park Jimin is totally checking you out!” she giggled, tugging on your sleeve excitedly.

“Park Jimin?” you questioned rhetorically.

“He’s famous on campus. He’s hot, rich, and a total freak in the sheets. Rumor has it his tongue can make you see stars. Every girl on campus is dying for a night with him.” she chattered.

“Oh geez.” You rolled your eyes.

“Seriously. The saying is: once you Jimin, you can’t Jim-out. He’s so good in bed, he’s had to get like three restraining orders against girls who can’t let go. They say once you sleep with him no one else will do.” she continued, waving her hands in the air dramatically.

“I’ll take your word for it.” you giggled, glancing over towards Jimin once again.

He was absolutely gorgeous, with perfectly styled light brown hair, soft, plump looking lips, a jawline that could cut someone. His white t-shirt showed off tattoos that danced down his arms, covering the delicate ivory skin beneath. His thighs alone deserved their own wing in an art gallery, beautifully encased in skin tight ripped jeans. You caught yourself staring, clearing your throat and averting your gaze, but something kept drawing you back to him.

He was surrounded by girls, all leaning forward to give him the best view of their cleavage, all doing their best to seduce him, but he looked bored. Lonely. Lost. He sighed and his eyes trailed back to you. He watched you for a moment, noting how you flushed and turned away looking flustered. A smirk played on his lips and he shoved himself off the wall, making his way over to you.

“Shit! He’s coming over here!” Hana whisper-shouted.

You braced yourself, waiting for him to call you out for staring, or yell at you. Your body seemed to be vibrating with nerves because you could feel him getting closer, like your body had a radar that searched him out. Warm breath ghosted over the back of your neck, right under your ear. You shivered.

“Hello, there princess.” he purred.

You spun around, startled, and came face-to-face with Jimin.

He was even more gorgeous up close. He smelled of alcohol and something minty. You couldn’t help basking in the lovely scent that filled your senses for a moment, before leveling your gaze to his. His body wasn’t even two inches from yours. If you leaned up on your toes, you’d be kissing him. You took a step behind you, your back hitting the island in the kitchen.

“Hello,” you greeted in return, willing the heat in your cheeks to look like it was from the humidity in the room and not Jimin’s proximity to you.

“I haven’t seen you around before, are you a Freshman?” he inquired, sending his charming smile your way and making your knees want to buckle.

“No, I just normally don’t come to parties,” you explained, tilting your head towards Hana. “Hana made me.”

“Why not?” he wondered aloud.

“Just… not my scene.” you shrugged.

Jimin watched your face, amusement apparent on his features. He seemed to be contemplating something. Apparently coming to his decision, his smile came back to grace his gorgeous face, but it didn’t reach his eyes, a detail you couldn’t miss even if you’d wanted to.

“Sounds like you need to have a little fun,” he smirked, stepping closer to you, his fingertips trailing along your hips and his lips grazing the shell of your ear as he whispered his next sentence, “I could help you with that. My room is upstairs.”

“I… I, uh… no… no thank you,” you sputtered, placing your hand on his (deliciously firm) chest and gently urging him backwards to put space between your erratically beating heart and his warm, enticing body.

“What?” Jimin asked, genuinely confused.

“I’m not that kind of girl.” you said softly, trying to cushion the blow to his ego.

“You really don’t want to fuck me?” he asked, bewildered.

“Um… no thank you.” You coughed awkwardly.

Jimin stared at you for a moment, reading you. His eyes searched yours, looking for something. You didn’t know what, or if he found it, but when he looked away, he shrugged.

“Your loss.” he turned to the sound of someone calling his name and left you standing there, heart pounding out of your chest and legs weak.

You watched him walk away, plastering on that signature flirty smile that fooled everyone around him. You watched his animated dancing, life of the party, putting on a show. You watched his eyes search the crowd, like his soul was longing to find something, but you didn’t know what.

-♡-

A few weeks had gone by since your encounter with Jimin, and somehow he was everywhere. You saw him on your way to class, laughing with his friends by the fountain. You saw him at the coffee shop, exiting the building as you were about to enter. You saw him in the crowded hallways of your university, heard his infectious laugh bubbling from his chest and dancing through the air.

Even when Jimin wasn’t in your direct line of vision, even when you couldn’t hear the way his melodic voice carried through the air, he was everywhere. Every night since meeting him, you dreamt of sad, empty brown eyes attached to the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen. Every other thought that flitted through your mind was about him. What was Jimin up to? Does he look happier today? Was it just that night? Where was he now?

Sitting in the lecture hall next to Hana, you couldn’t pay attention to what the professor was attempting to teach you, a heavy sigh falling from your lips as you doodled a familiar pair of plusher ones. Hana nudged your shoulder.

“What’s up with you lately? You’re like, lost in space or something.” she accused.

“Sorry, just got a lot on my mind,” you sighed, playing with the edges of your notebook distractedly.

“Wanna talk about it?” she wondered.

“How much do you know about Park Jimin?” you asked almost instantly, causing Hana to jump a bit.

“Oh honey…” she sighed, shaking her head, “Don’t go there. Park Jimin is a good fuck if you’re looking to let loose, but I wouldn’t get too invested. Fucking is about all he’s good at. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”

“Do you really think he’s not good for anything but that? I mean, he’s human.” you defended.

“That’s not what I meant, I just know how you are. Don't go crushing on him, he’ll break your heart Y/N. Park Jimin doesn’t do emotions. He does meaningless sex.” she explained.

“I guess…” you trailed off, avoiding her gaze.

“Seriously. Don’t go looking for trouble.” she warned.

“I won’t.” you promised.

“Good. Now, there’s a party this weekend. Are you coming?” she grinned.

A classmate in front of you coughed obnoxiously sending you a glare. You shot them an apologetic smile but lowered your voice. Hana didn’t lower her volume at all though.

“Maybe. I don’t know.” you shrugged.

“Come onnnn. Live a little!” she encouraged.

“If you two ladies have something to share with the class, I’d be more than happy to give you the podium. Otherwise, I’d appreciate it if you’d wait until after class to discuss whatever is so important,” the professor hummed, shooting a glare in your direction.

Immediately silencing yourself, you looked down at your notebook, where the drawing of Jimin’s plush lips stared at you. You stared back, recalling the last time you’d seen him, and how your heart had pounded in your chest violently enough that you thought it was going to come out.

You decided you needed to see him again, which is how you found yourself completely out of place once again at another frat party. Drunk and stoned college kids stumbled around, grinded on each other, made out in corners, and caused all kinds of trouble all around you as you tried to be inconspicuous in your search for Jimin.

“Do you want a drink?” you asked Hana and she nodded, so you ventured into the kitchen to retrieve something for the two of you.

Once you returned, you couldn’t find her anywhere. She had a tendency of wandering off with the first hot guy she set her sights on, but you decided to look for her anyway. You wove between bodies, checking around corners and searching all the obvious places. When you came up empty handed you ventured out the back door, only to notice none other than Park Jimin sitting on the porch swing alone, smoking.

Previous task abandoned, you walked up to him and sat beside him; his eyes lazily trailed up and down your figure as he assessed you, his plump lips turning up into a smirk.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again. Change your mind about my offer?” he smiled seductively.

“No.” you shrugged, offering him the extra cup in your hand, which he took while watching you carefully.

“Seriously? Am I not your type or something? You think I’m ugly?” he wondered, feigning distress.

“That’s not it at all!” you gasped out with a little too much conviction.

“So you find me attractive?” he verified, scooting closer.

“Well, yes,” you admitted, cheeks blazing while you avoided his intense gaze.

“So you do want to fuck me.” He grinned.

“No,” you shook your head.

“Why?” he questioned, letting his fingertips dance along the edge of your shorts.

“Like I said. I’m not that kind of girl. I think sex should be meaningful,” you shrugged, though your body betrayed you with the goosebumps rising at his touch.

“Ah, so you’re one of those hopeless romantics,” he laughed.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you giggled. “I’m not waiting for a knight in shining armour. I just want it to mean something.”

Jimin focused his gaze on your face, watching you carefully as you fiddled with a stray thread on your blouse. He knew your body reacted to him, he could see the way you shivered, feel the goosebumps on your skin. He didn’t understand why you weren’t jumping at the opportunity to fall into bed with him like everyone else. You were an enigma to him.

You finally met his gaze, curiosity getting the better of you. You had to know if his eyes still held the same look as before, or if it was a one-time thing. You could still see the loneliness, masked by his overconfident demeanor.

“What’s your major?” you asked, changing the subject out of the blue.

“What? Oh, um… dance, actually.” he said, averting his gaze.

“How long have you been dancing?” you wondered.

“Since I was little. Why are you asking this?” he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“Just wondering. I don’t know anything about you,” you easily replied.

“What’s yours?” he countered.

“Creative writing.”

“That’s cool.” he sent you a tentative smile.

“Thanks. So is dancing. I can’t dance to save my life,” you giggled.

“I’m sure you’re not that bad,” he argued, a smile playing on his lips.

“Oh, you haven’t seen bad,” you laughed.

After taking a moment to wonder why you were even outside talking to him and what you could possibly want from him, he pushed his suspicion aside..Jimin rolled his eyes with a smile and stood up, extending his hand out to you. You sent him a questioning look and he just shook his hand until you grabbed it, and he pulled you to your feet. He reached down into his pocket and pulled out his phone, playing a song you hadn’t heard before, but enjoyed nonetheless. It was slow and simple, but still pretty upbeat.

“We’ll try something simple so I can see where you’re at, ok?” Jimin grinned at you, spacing his feet apart and watching your face.

“You’re going to make me dance?” you gasped.

“I’m going to teach you some easy moves. Everyone should know at least one dance move,” he laughed.

“If you watch me fall on my face I can never look you in the eye again,” you grumbled.

“Oh hush. Okay, start with your feet shoulder width apart for balance.” he instructed.

You mimicked his stature, placing your feet shoulder width apart and following his movements that he did slowly so you could catch on. You could tell he was graceful and knew how to move his body, even when he was slowing down and exaggerating his movements so you could keep up. Jimin’s movements were fluid and calculated, each new step had precision but flowed into the next seamlessly. He was made to dance, you decided. And somehow, you didn’t fall under his instruction. He was patient and understanding when you’d mess up, showing you again and praising you when you got it right.

He seemed to be having fun, his laughter filled you with giddiness and his smile seemed genuine, his eyes scrunched up into little crescent moons and his beautiful pearly teeth on display, his hands wrapped around his stomach as he leaned over in another fit of laughter. You giggled along with him, albeit at your own expense, but you loved seeing this side of Jimin, he seemed… happy, carefree. This was the way Jimin was meant to be.

When you messed up again, Jimin laughed, coming over to you and grabbing your hands, showing you how to move your body to the music by leading you with his own. Your back was pressed against his firm chest as he guided you, his hips flush against yours, causing a blush to creep up your neck. Jimin must have noticed the position he’d put you in, but it didn’t stop him. He only pressed closer, whispering in your ear.

“You’re doing so good for me, babygirl,” he purred, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You shivered, attempting to turn and pull out of his hold to scold him, but you were interrupted by a loud male voice coming from inside the house.

“Yo Park where the hell have you been? We need help in beer pong! Oh-” a tall man you recognized as Hoseok froze at the sight.

Jimin cleared his throat and stepped away from you. Hana peered around Hoseok from behind him, curious to what was going on. Her eyes widened when she saw you, and she gave you a look of disappointment, knowing you hadn’t listened to her warning. You looked away, avoiding her gaze as Jimin breezed past you to follow Hoseok inside. Hana watched you for a moment before following them inside, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

-♡-

It had been a few days since your dancing lesson with Jimin, and seeing him in such a comfortable, happy state hadn’t really done much to take him off your mind, especially not after seeing his eyes glaze over and the mask slip right back on as soon as Hoseok called his name. How he’d breezed past you like you didn’t exist after what felt like a special moment shared between the two of you.

Maybe Hana was right… maybe all he wanted was sex. Your anxiety was telling you he was playing with your emotions, but you knew better. You saw something in Jimin, something no one else seemed to notice. The small amount of time you’d spent with him when he had let his guard down had given you the opportunity to see what potential he had.

Jimin didn’t have to be tough and closed off. He could be fun and open and sweet. He could be thoughtful and patient and encouraging. He could be silly and smart and dedicated. He was talented and hard working. You’d spent maybe an hour alone with Jimin at the party that night, and in that small frame of time, you’d seen a glimpse of the real him shine through that facade he put on for everyone else.

You wanted to see it again.

You took’d taken a trip into the city to do some sight seeing and clear your restless mind, having been driven crazy going in circles. It had taken longer than you’d anticipated, so you’d opted to take a taxi home with the sun having gone down a while ago and the stars making their appearance. You watched the cityscape fly by, lost in your own little world. The closer you got to campus, the more you paid attention, knowing the bridge that overlooked the beautiful skyline would be coming soon.

You watched the water below ripple gently, small waves dancing across the surface of the river underneath the bridge. It was beautiful, reflections of the city lights shining and shimmering in the water. You glanced up at the other end of the bridge and saw a figure standing there, alone. It kind of looked like…

“Sir, stop the car. Pull over please!” you begged the driver.

He shot you a curious look but pulled to the side of the road. You handed him your fare and dashed away from the car towards the figure. Once you realized he wasn’t going to jump or do anything stupid, you slowed your stride, watching him as you quietly made your way over to him. Jimin was lost in thought and didn’t notice you approaching him. He watched the waves longingly, as if he wished he were floating away in them, part of the nothingness. Like he wanted to disappear into the water and drift away into the sea.

The look in his eyes as he gazed out into the unknown was haunted, and it tore at your heart to see him look so empty. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, and if that’s true, Jimin’s soul seemed broken. You wanted to know why. He had it all. He had money, good looks, friends, girls, what could possibly be missing? Why did he look so dejected?

You gently placed your hand on his shoulder and he jumped slightly upon realizing he wasn’t alone, turning to face you. His gaze met yours in silence, he watched your face for a moment, then his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Y/N?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. I was riding by and saw you, I wanted to make sure you were okay. What are you doing up here all alone?” you wondered.

Jimin turned to face you fully now, looking down at you with a hard expression.

“Why do you care?” he asked, bunching his fists at his side. “What do you want from me Y/N? Why are you being so nice to me?”

“I don’t want anything from you, Jimin. I just want to make sure you’re okay. I want to be your friend,” you explained softly, reaching out to touch his arm, which he yanked away.

“You want to be my friend?” he laughed bitterly. “Why? So I can buy you stuff? You want my money? Here,” he took out his wallet, holding out several bills for you to take.

You were shocked, stepping back a little, but looking up to meet Jimin’s gaze. He looked resigned, angry. You looked at his outstretched hand, holding the money out to you and sighed. You reached for his hand, and he thought you’d take the bills, but you only eased his hand back down to his side.

“I don’t want your money,” you told him, trying to keep your voice from sounding as offended as you felt. “I just like spending time with you.”

“Why? What is your angle here? Just take what you want and go, like everyone else does. Everyone uses each other, I don’t know what you’re trying to get out of me, but just take it and go. Stop acting like you care about me,” he hissed.

You watched him for a moment, chest heaving as he took deep breaths, looking angry and closed off and… scared. He looked scared. He said everyone uses each other, did he really not have anyone in his life who genuinely just wanted him to be happy?

“I do care about you, Jimin. I don’t want anything from you but friendship,” you said softly.

“Right,” he laughed, “like I believe that. No one just wants to be friends. They want something. Sex. Money. Status. Then they leave, everyone leaves eventually so why bother getting attached and pretending to care?”

“That sounds really lonely, Jimin,” you trailed off quietly.

Jimin’s expression was one of shock. He was expecting some sort of reaction out of you, anger, defiance, maybe admitting you were just after his money. He expected you to try to trick him, to yell at him, to tell him he was an asshole and you never wanted to see him again. Jimin was not expecting you to see straight through him, to see how lonely he was, how much he craved connection.

You terrified Jimin. He’d been drawn to you from when he first laid eyes on you, admittedly it was a sexual attraction at first. When you’d refused him, though, he was intrigued. He’d watched you around campus, how you never sought out to be the center of attention, how you didn’t go looking for drama or clout. Then you showed up on that porch swing at the party, looking into his eyes like you really saw him.

Jimin hadn’t felt so at ease so quickly with anyone in his life like he did with you. He felt like he could be himself, like he could let his guard down. He had fun, really enjoyed himself for the first time in what felt like forever with you. He wasn’t putting on a show. He wasn’t giving the people what he thought they wanted to see from him. He was just spending time with a beautiful girl who made him feel like he was enough.

And that was terrifying.

Jimin couldn’t afford to get attached again. He’d had his heart ripped out and stomped on so many times he’d honestly thought he didn’t have one anymore. Until he watched the way your eyes lit up when you giggled at one of his silly dance moves. Until he felt the giddiness rising in his chest when you smiled especially for him. Jimin almost couldn’t remember what it felt like to feel so carefree, and he missed it so much. He longed to be free and let go.

You made him feel like he could, and that scared Jimin shitless. He’d spent so long building up this wall to protect himself, so long wearing this mask of indifference to shield his weary and battered heart from another letdown. Another person pretending to care. Another “friend” using him to get something. Another betrayal. But you… you felt so genuine. You were light and happy and kind and you made him feel like he could breathe again. He barely knew you, and already you’d wormed your way into his heart enough to make him feel like things could be different. It scared Jimin just how badly he craved that, the connection, to feel something again.

“I… I guess,” he finally admitted, his shoulders slumping from the confession.

He looked like he was deflating, the tension falling off his body once he finally let it out that yes, he was so lonely. He watched your reaction, embarrassed that you’d seen this side of him. He didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of anyone, didn’t want to give them the chance to use him again. But you just smiled sympathetically. You didn’t push or pry.

Instead, you pivoted. “Are you hungry? I kind of want some ramen. Come with me to the store?” you offered.

Jimin eyed you warily, but nodded, falling in step beside you as you walked along the bridge, the only sounds you could hear were the soft rippling of the waves below and the sounds of the cars rushing past. Jimin was quiet beside you, looking like he was lost in thought. He wasn’t paying attention to where he was stepping, and tripped over a loose brick on the sidewalk.

You saw the headlights of the oncoming car nearing closer as Jimin tumbled into the road, your heart beating out of your chest in bone-chilling fear. You jumped into the street and grabbed Jimin’s hand. You jumped back and yanked him onto the sidewalk mere fractions of a second before the car zoomed past where your bodies had just been, horn blaring obnoxiously. Jimin’s body crashed into yours, sending you off balance and splaying against the sidewalk.

You groaned at his weight being flung on top of you when you crashed into the hard cement sidewalk. Jimin propped himself up on his arms, body still flush against yours as he searched your face, eyes wide.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What the hell were you thinking?! You could’ve been killed!” he scolded, eyes roaming over your face and arms for any injuries.

“So could you! I couldn’t just sit back and watch you get run over!” you defended.

“So you risked your life for someone you barely know?!” he hissed, with no real bite to his words.

Worry and guilt were swimming in his gaze as it met yours. You softened, reaching up to caress his hair gently in an attempt to soothe him and get him to focus on you and your next words.

“Hey, we’re both fine. Everything’s okay,” you smiled.

“I’ve never met anyone like you before,” he said more to himself than you, “What even are you?”

“Still hungry,” you giggled playfully, trying to ease the tension surrounding the two of you.

Jimin rolled his eyes but finally, a smile graced his pretty lips. You both seemed to notice your positions at the same time, your cheeks lighting up and the tips of his ears turning red. He scrambled off of you, holding out a hand to pull you to your feet. You both avoided eye contact and he let out an awkward cough, scratching the back of his neck.

“Let’s go get ramen then,” he smiled shyly, motioning for you to go ahead of him.

You walked together in silence, Jimin being much more careful about where he was stepping while you made your way to the convenience store at the edge of the university. Entering and nodding to the cashier on duty, you both made your way over to the ramen. You reached out to grab a bowl, and a gasp left Jimin’s lips.

“You’re bleeding!” he grabbed your arm, examining the scrape on your elbow.

“Oh, whoops,” you shrugged.

Jimin went to the cashier and requested the first aid kit, then guided you to a seat and gently took your arm, cleaning the cut with an antiseptic wipe. You hissed at the burn, and he apologized, leaning down to blow air on the wound. You watched in awe at the way his lips looked, plump and soft and delicious. You shivered as the cool air hit your skin, soothing the burn from the antiseptic wipe. Jimin smiled up at you.

“Better?” he asked.

Not trusting your voice, you simply nodded. He took the bandage and placed it over your wound, smoothing it out with a gentle brush of his fingers.

“There. All better. Let's eat!” he chirped, pushing off his knees to stand.

You both picked out some ramen and drinks, using the water dispenser to add hot water to the dry noodles. Jimin reached for his wallet to pay for you both reflexively. You didn’t put yours on the counter and he looked at you in confusion.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Uhhh… waiting my turn?”

“What do you mean? It’s our turn.”

“It’s your turn. I’ll pay for mine when you’re done,” you shrugged.

Jimin looked shocked and confused, and the cashier looked impatient. You nodded towards the counter and Jimin paid, watching you curiously as you completed your transaction with a smile on your face and thanked the cashier. Jimin held the door for you and you both walked to a nearby park, sitting on the bench to eat.

You ate and talked and joked and laughed. You both just enjoyed being in each other’s presence, able to let loose and not feel judged. You watched Jimin’s eyes begin to shine for the first time since you’d met him, and your heart swelled with joy. You’d finished eating long ago but neither of you wanted to leave, so you stood up.

“I’ve been practicing, you know.” You wiggled your eyebrows.

“Practicing?” he echoed.

“Dancing. I’ve been practicing what you showed me. Not to toot my own horn, but I’ve gotten pretty decent,” you grinned playfully.

“Show me what you’ve got,” Jimin smirked, leaning back into the bench with his hands folded behind his head, his shirt riding up and displaying his mouth-watering abs, along with the small trail of hair that dipped down underneath his waistband.

You stood with your feet shoulder width apart, just like Jimin had taught you, and started shaking your hips like you’d seen him do that night at the party, giving your best impression of his dance routine for the first minute or two. Then, you grinned at him as he opened his mouth to praise you, before you started doing the chicken dance.

Jimin’s laughter rang through the air and he started dancing with you, both of you making fools of yourselves, your only audience each other and the moon that shone brightly in the sky, illuminating Jimin’s face, highlighting his ethereal beauty. The two of you danced and laughed for a while, before falling onto the bench in a fit of giggles.

Finally deciding it was time to go, Jimin insisted on walking you home, saying it wasn’t safe for you to be alone that late at night. You agreed, not because you weren’t capable of keeping yourself safe, but simply to stay with him for a little longer. You tossed your food containers in the trash as you left the park. His hand brushed against yours a few times as you walked, talking animatedly about anything and everything, and you figured it was just an accident soyou didn’t think too much of it.

Disappointment washed over you as you walked up to your dorm building and you sighed, scuffing the ground with your foot in an attempt to stall. Jimin made no move to leave either, both of you waiting in silence for the other to say something. Suddenly, you felt warmth surround your frame as Jimin wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a tight embrace.

“Thank you for tonight. This is the most fun I’ve had in a really long time,” he whispered into your ear, almost like a secret he didn’t want anyone else to hear, though you were alone.

“Me too, Jimin. Thank you for coming with me, and walking me home,” you smiled, returning his hug and placing your head on his shoulder.

You weren’t sure how long hugs between stranger-friends were supposed to last, but you weren’t going to pull away first, not when you felt so warm, so safe, so comfortable. Your heart was racing but your whole body went pliant at his touch, any tension you’d been holding melting away as you melted into him.

Jimin pulled away first, leaving a chaste kiss to your cheek before turning around and walking off, shouting “goodnight Y/N!” over his shoulder as he left. You missed the way the tips of his ears turned pink, and he missed how your whole face turned red. You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as you crawled into bed that night, your dreams filled with bright brown eyes shining in the moonlight, and a little bit of hope.

-♡-

After the night on the bridge, you and Jimin began hanging out. He’d wait for you outside the lecture hall and walk you home some days. Others, you’d show up with his favorite coffee and snack in hand before his (regrettably chosen) 8am class. Jimin was different around you, lighter.

Because he was Jimin, people noticed. Eyes trailed after the two of you everywhere you went, whether you were together or not. Rumors spread, saying that you were using him to gain recognition, saying that he’d knocked you up and been forced to date you, saying that you’d blackmailed him or something. Neither of you paid attention to the prying eyes that seemed to dissect your every move, you were too caught up in each other.

You made Jimin feel like a better person, and Jimin made you feel safe and giddy. But there was no denying the massive crush you’d formed on the poor guy. You did your best to hide it, trying not to make him uncomfortable. You’d told him all you wanted was friendship, you weren’t about to make a liar out of yourself and get rejected, losing your new friend over something so silly as your unyielding yearning for him.

You really tried not to let your eyes linger on him for too long when he walked unaware beside you, humming the newest song he was practicing for dance class. You tried not to let your touches last longer than socially acceptable for friends, despite the way your entire body seemed to light up with electricity every time his skin met yours. You tried not to stare longingly at his lips as he told you a story about his childhood or a class he’d taken the day before.

You tried not to fall in love with him.

You tried not to fall in love with the way his eyes formed crescent moons when he smiled, his real smile. The one he used in your presence, not the one he plastered on for the rest of the world to see. You tried not to fall in love with the sound of his voice calling your name, or the way he’d mindlessly sing quietly to himself while doing mundane tasks. You tried not to fall in love with the way he’d already be looking at you when you glanced up to check on him, with the way he’d shoot you a goofy face.

You tried not to fall in love with the way he held you close, the way every hug was just a little too long, the way he’d hold open doors for you or fix your collar, or the way he seemed to be able to make you forget about the rest of the world. You tried not to fall in love with how strong he was, both physically and emotionally, how he’d let you in and trusted you.

But Jimin was a force of nature, somehow terrifying and comforting at the same time. He showed your heart no mercy, consistently proving himself to you over and over and making you fall harder and harder. How were you not supposed to fall head over heels for Jimin? A few weeks into your friendship and you were ready to throw caution to the wind and marry the man. Or maybe you were a little dramatic, but still. You felt so deeply for him you almost couldn’t stomach it.

Jimin seemed to bounce as he walked in front of you, using his ridiculous amount of coordination to walk backwards so he could face you as he spoke. You giggled at his behavior, keeping an eye out to make sure he didn’t run into anything or anyone. He wove around the crowd gracefully, looking back every so often, but you still watched out for him. Just in case.

“So then the professor woke the kid up by slamming a book on his desk, I kinda felt bad for him, to be honest. But it was really funny. The kid wasn’t too bothered by it, he laughed with everyone else, and apologized for falling asleep. I don’t blame him though. I nearly lost it when he went into the section on Pavlov,” Jimin recounted, rolling his eyes.

“Poor guy!” you laughed.

“I know, so embarrassing.” he cringed.

“Yo, Jimin!” came from somewhere in the crowd, and Jimin’s easygoing expression immediately morphed into a hardened one.

You turned to see Hoseok and Hana jogging to catch up with the two of you. Ever since they’d started dating, you’d seen Hana less and less. You didn’t mind much, as your time was mostly filled with Jimin. Hana’s hair had gotten longer and she’d dyed it a light shade of pink. It suited her.

“Hey Hana, I like your new hair,” you smiled.

“Thanks, girl! I haven’t seen you in forever!” she grabbed you, pulling you into a tight hug which you returned, shooting an uncomfortable look towards Jimin.

His attention was on Hoseok though. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and you didn’t like it when Jimin’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. It looked unnatural, wrong. Happiness belonged on Jimin. Hoseok was sweet, he was funny and lively and courteous, you had nothing against him. But you wished he would leave so Jimin would go back to normal. Unguarded.

“Jimin, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for a couple days man. I really need your help. Are you busy? The girls can grab coffee or something and we can swing by the shop?” Hoseok begged.

“Ooh that sounds so fun! We haven’t hung out in forever! Please, Y/N?” Hana begged, pulling on your shirt sleeve.

You shot a look over to Jimin, gauging his feelings on the situation, but you couldn’t read him. His face was stoic and you couldn’t see his eyes. He shrugged, following Hoseok across the street. Hana pulled on your arm, directing you to a nearby coffee shop and grabbing a table in the corner by the window.

“You still like the hot chocolate here the best?” Hana asked, standing up to order.

You moved to follow but she waved you off, placing your order for you and handing it over once it was ready.

“Thank you.” you smiled, “How much was it? I’ll venmo you.”

“Don’t worry it was only like two bucks,” Hana shrugged. “Hobi’s been paying for everything lately, hasn’t asked me to chip in a dime! So I’ve saved up a bit.”

“Oh wow,” you laughed.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever! Do you remember when we used to come here like every day to do our homework and people watch?” Hana giggled.

“Yeah, it seems so long ago.” you agreed, grinning at the memory.

“Ugh, I still had that poofy curly hairdo and you wore those high school musical shirts all the time? When was that, like 8th grade?” she cringed.

“Freshman year of high school, I think. We met in high school.” you laughed. “Why did your mom let you leave the house like that?”

“Girl I don’t know!” she groaned, “why did yours?”

“I guess she wanted me to express myself,” you shrugged with a giggle.

“Express yourself right out of any chance to be popular,” Hana remarked sarcastically, throwing in a playful smirk.

“Hey, I don’t need to be popular. I just need a few good people around me,” you shrugged.

“Hmmm… So, how’s Jimin?” she asked, glancing away and not meeting your eyes.

“He’s good. We were just on our way back to my dorm to watch a movie when we ran into you guys,” you explained.

“A little netflix and chill?” she laughed, but her eyes zeroed in on you.

“No,” you shook your head, “just a movie.”

Hana sighed, placing her coffee on the table and looked you in the eyes.

“YN, I’m worried about you. Someone like you shouldn’t be hanging out with someone like Jimin. When I invited you to that party, I just wanted you to get out more, not start messing around with someone like him.” Hana explained, attempting to keep her voice soft.

“What do you mean ‘someone like him’?” you asked harshly.

“You’ve heard what people are saying right? They’re spreading rumors about you because you’re hanging out with him. He’s bad news, YN. He only sleeps with girls to get what he wants. I know you’re a hopeless romantic but I can guarantee he doesn’t love you, no matter what he’s telling you.” she sighed.

“You can’t be serious.” you laughed incredulously.

“YN, I’m just looking out for you. Jimin is-” she began but you stood and cut her off.

“Jimin is kind. Jimin is funny, smart, sweet and loyal. Jimin doesn’t talk shit about people behind their backs. Jimin doesn’t pretend to care just so he can cause trouble. Jimin doesn’t judge people based on rumors. You don’t know anything about him, Hana. You never cared enough to. No one has! You all think he’s some souless succubus who only uses sex to get what he wants, but you’re wrong. You don’t know him at all. Jimin is wonderful and I will hang out with him as much as I damn well want to because you know what? He makes me happy. So you and anyone else who has a problem with that can fuck off,” you seethed, slamming five dollars down on the table to pay her for your drink, not wanting to owe her anything, “Keep the change.”

You stomped away from the table, finally looking up from Hana’s speechless, shocked expression to find Jimin and Hoseok staring at you in mirroring astonishment. You froze for a split second, but in your rage, trudged forward, grabbing Jimin’s hand and pulling him towards the exit.

“Let’s go.” you grumbled, and he allowed you to pull him out of the exit and begin walking down the street, leaving Hoseok and Hana in stunned silence.

You didn’t let go of Jimin’s hand and he didn’t make a move to pull away as you walked silently to your dorm, your anger slowly going from a boiling rage to a simmer. You opened and shut the door with a little more force than necessary and flung the dvd cabinet open with a little too much emphasis. Jimin watched you curiously, letting you have your space and set up the movie before you crawled into your bed next to where he was waiting.

You laid your head on his shoulder, needing the extra comfort of having him close after your emotional meltdown at the coffee shop. You sighed, letting the tension roll out of your body that you’d stored up from the encounter. Jimin wrapped an arm around you, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“You want to talk about it?” he asked quietly, eyes still on the opening credits of the movie.

“No,” you pouted.

“Are you sure?” he pressed, gaze shifting to you.

You sighed and sat up, turning to face him and pausing the movie.

“How much did you hear?”

“Hoseok and I walked in right about where you asked Hana what she meant by someone like me,” he explained.

“Oh,” you flushed, looking away from him. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

Jimin sighed, turning your shoulders so you’d face him and you gazed up into his eyes as he focused on you.

“Hey, it’s okay. I know what people think about me. I don’t care about their opinion. I care about yours, and maybe Hoseok’s. Sometimes,” he explained with a chuckle.

“I guess…” you trailed off.

“Thank you,” he spoke suddenly, softly.

“For what?” you wondered.

“For sticking up for me. For believing in me. For having my back,” he told you, his eyes swimming in an emotion you couldn’t place.

“Of course. I meant everything I said. You’re an amazing person and if people would just take a second look and get to know you, look past the wall you put up, they’d think so too.”

Jimin pulled you into his arms, encompassing you in his warmth and comfort, seeming to hold you together when you felt like you were shaking into pieces from the intensity of how strongly you felt for him. You relaxed in his hold, allowing the warmth of his body against yours to soothe your nerves.

“You’re my best friend,” he whispered into your ear, barely audible.

“You’re my best friend too,” you whispered back, hugging him just a little tighter.

Jimin smiled against your neck where he’d rested his head, and you hoped he couldn’t feel how loudly your heart was beating from feeling his lips against your skin, though he probably didn’t mean to do that. You pulled apart and snuggled into the covers to watch the movie, finally completing the task you’d set out to do since mid-afternoon.

Once the credits rolled, you were tucked into Jimin’s arms, drifting in and out of consciousness. Jimin glanced at the clock and sighed.

“I don’t want to leave but it’s getting late,” he looked down at your face.

“Nooo.. don’t go. You’re so comfy,” you whined.

“Are you calling me fat?” he huffed playfully.

“Oh hush,” you giggled, but looked up at him, biting your lip nervously.

“Can you just… stay? Just for tonight? If you want to, that is…” you looked down at your hands.

“You’re not worried someone will see me leave in the morning and start more rumors?” he wondered.

“I don’t care if you don’t,” you shrugged, meeting his eyes once more.

“Scooch over then,” he grinned and you giggled triumphantly, scooting over to one side of the bed so Jimin could slot himself between you and the wall.

He wrapped an arm around your middle, pulling you against his chest and sighed contentedly. You snuggled just a little closer, mumbling something about the chilly air in the dorm, but really you just loved being close to Jimin. Butterflies swirled in your stomach, and you listened to Jimin’s breathing begin to even out as he fell asleep. You followed not long after. Wrapped in the safety and comfort of Jimin, you swore it was the best night's sleep you’d ever had.

-♡-

The second Jimin had exited your dorm that morning, there were about 50 pictures of the incident flooding social media, rumors flying rampant about your night spent together. Every other comment was about how you’d turned into a whore or Jimin was just playing with you or you had to have something on him. You ignored them all. People could think whatever they wanted, but you knew you hadn’t done anything wrong.

On the contrary, waking up beside Jimin had felt so, so right. You’d somehow shifted in the night, both of you seeking out each other’s warmth and you’d woken up face-to-face, your noses almost touching. You’d opened your eyes to find Jimin opening his and you both smiled at each other, giggling nervously as you broke apart.

Jimin had gone home to freshen up, seeing as your impromptu sleepover left him without a change of clothes or a toothbrush. You hadn’t heard anything from him since he left, and you were starting to wonder if he regretted staying, if he felt uncomfortable now. Your nerves were eating you up and after your fight with Hana, you didn’t really know who you could talk to about it. You sighed, flipping through a textbook while being unable to concentrate on anything you were reading.

A few hours went by and you were starting to lose your mind from the lack of communication and the anxiety it caused. You picked up your phone to distract yourself with something when a text from Jimin came through. You sighed in relief, opening the message.

Jimin [5:54pm]: The guys at the frat house say I’ve been boring lately and I’m not allowed to skip tonight’s party. Come with me?

Did he mean come with him as in… be his date? Surely not. Right? Your heart hammered in your chest. Sure, people had seen you and Jimin around together a lot, but it was another thing entirely to go to a party together. That was basically announcing that you were dating. Maybe he didn’t see it that way? Maybe he just wanted to bring his friend to the party?

You [5:59pm]: Sure. Meet you there?

Jimin [6:04pm]: Starts at 10. :)

You texted a little back and forth in the next few hours, then you got ready for the party andmade your way over to the frat house, wondering what kind of fresh hell this party would bring. Though, you couldn’t say all parties were bad. You had met Jimin at one of these. That had turned out to be the greatest thing you’d ever done.

You were filled with a sense of nostalgia walking up to the familiar front door and entering into the foyer, greeted with booming music and some cheering from the corner where someone was doing a keg upside down. You were startled by an arm wrapping around your shoulder, pulling you into a warm body.

“Y/N! Nice to see you again,” Hoseok grinned, leading you towards the kitchen.

“Hey Hoseok,” you smiled, a little confused.

“Jimin and I were about to play beer pong with Tae, we need a 4th player,” he grinned.

“Oh okay,” you smiled, walking with a little more confidence.

“Y/N!” Jimin grinned, walking over and wrapping you in a hug, “I’m glad you came. You’re on my team, ok?”

“Sounds good,” you grinned.

“Y/N, this is Taehyung, you’ve already met Hoseok. Tae, this is Y/N,” Jimin introduced.

“Nice to meet you,” Taehyung grinned a boxy smile, enthusiastically waving to you from his end of the island. “Sorry we’re about to kick your ass,” he added with an evil chuckle.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” you giggled.

“Have you played before?” Jimin wondered.

“A few times, not at a big party like this but I’ve practiced,” you mimicked brushing off your shoulders and Jimin let out a hearty laugh.

“Alright, a seasoned pro!” Hoseok chimed in excitedly.

“Is Hana not here?” you asked quietly to Jimin.

“I haven’t seen her, no,” he shrugged.

“Did they break up?”

“I doubt it, but I don’t know.” he answered.

“Alright, ladies! Let's go!” Taehyung shouted enthusiastically.

Hoseok took the first shot, landing it perfectly in a cup on your side of the table, and Jimin took the first swig, downing the cup. Hoseok shot again, missing by a mile. Jimin laughed before tossing his ball across the table, expertly landing it in one of the opposing team’s. Hoseok pouted but drank anyway. Jimin tried again, landing another. You clapped and hooted for him. Jimin got three cups before he missed.

Taehyung got two cups, and you drank both before he grazed the edge of the third, but the ball didn’t go in. You started shooting and got two cups before someone jostled you on your third throw, causing you to miss the entire table. You shot a glare to the offending stranger, who apologized profusely. You sighed.

“Minho is clumsy but he’s sweet. Don’t be too hard on him. He might actually like it. Kinky bastard.” Jimin winked at you playfully.

You choked on your next breath, giggling at his words. Neither team scored anything for a while, too busy trash-talking each other and cracking jokes to concentrate on the game. Jimin’s full smile had yet to appear, but he did seem more relaxed in your presence, so you took it as a win. He wasn’t quite himself, putting on more of a show than usual, but you decided to let it go since he seemed like he was having a good time. Surprisingly, you were too.

Taehyung was sweet and funny. He was easy to talk to and super charming. Hoseok was a ball of sunshine and energy, and they both seemed to accept you as part of their little group with no effort at all. You were Jimin’s friend, and therefore you were their friend by association. You wondered if these were people Jimin could be honest with, they seemed really genuine, but you knew how guarded he was so you weren’t about to bring it up. They were fun to be around, and that was enough for now.

The night raged on, and your team ended up winning beer pong. You’d both gained a pleasant buzz from the game but Taehyung and Hoseok were absolutely trashed. Jimin explained that they might’ve pregamed a little too hard before the party, so the added beers from their crushing defeat sent them over the edge into utterly intoxicated. They were currently clutching onto each other and singing a very off key rendition of a song you didn’t even recognize.

“Hey, where’s the bathroom?” you asked.

“Just down that hall,” Jimin pointed, and you smiled at him before making your way there.

You quickly did your business and washed your hands, checking your appearance in the mirror and smiling to yourself about how well the night was going. Everything was perfect and after last night with Jimin, he seemed more… into you? Less platonic. Or maybe your mind was playing tricks on you. Either way, you were hopeful that maybe Jimin felt the same way you did.

That was, until you walked out of the bathroom and saw him pushed up against the wall with some girl’s tongue down his throat.

You felt like the room was spinning. Your heart shattered and you found it difficult to get air into your lungs as you stood frozen in shock, eyes glued to the pair like a car wreck. You just couldn’t look away. It felt like years, but lasted only a second before Jimin’s eyes opened and he spotted you. He pushed the girl off of him, taking a step toward you, but you made a beeline for the door.

You weaved your way through the crowd as fast as you could, ignoring Taehyung who gleefully called out for you to join him in karaoke. You begged any entity that was listening to let you hold your tears in until there were no witnesses, focusing solely on getting your feet to move faster and holding your emotions at bay. You heard Jimin calling your name but you only moved faster, sprinting out of the open door and down the empty road.

How could you have been so stupid? Of course he didn’t like you. You were just the first person to show him, real, unconditional friendship. That’s all his affection was. Platonic. He didn’t want you. How could he? That girl looked like a supermodel. Of course she was more his type. How could you even think he would ever want someone like you? Because he spent one night with his arms wrapped around you and brought you to a party in front of his friends? Ugh.

“Y/N! Wait!” Jimin called, and you could hear his footsteps growing closer.

Damn him and his dancer’s stamina.

You wiped any stray tears from your eyes and did your best to plaster on a smile as you turned around to face him, you couldn’t outrun him. You might as well act normal and pretend everything was fine. Jimin slowed to a stop in front of you, panting a little.

“Where are you going?” he asked breathlessly.

“Oh, uh. I’m going home,” you grimaced as your voice cracked.

“Y/N, it wasn’t what it looked like,” Jimin began.

“Oh Jimin, it’s fine,” you brushed him off, using every bit of your willpower to make yourself seem believable. “You can do whatever or whoever you want. It’s not like I own you.”

“I saw the look on your face, Y/N, I-” Jimin tried but you shook your head.

“No it’s fine. I should’ve known you’d want to have some fun tonight. You’re not obligated to babysit me just because you invited me,” you cut him off.

“But I-” he tried again, scratching his arm in frustration.

“Go back to the party, that girl is probably waiting,” you smiled, moving to turn around.

“Would you just fucking listen to me?!” he shouted, making you freeze in your tracks.

Your eyes flickered up to meet his in shock, mouth hanging slightly ajar. Despite him being covered in tattoos and piercings, you’d never heard Jimin raise his voice or be threatening in any way. His sudden outburst caused your heart to flutter in your chest, both with astonishment and a little bit of arousal.

“She just came up and started talking to me, and she asked me to fuck, but I said no. She kissed me out of nowhere and I froze. As soon as I saw you I knew I fucked up. I pushed her off and told her to get lost. I don’t want her, Y/N. I don’t want any of them,” he nearly growled in frustration, running a hand through his messy hair. “I don’t want anyone else. I want you.”

Your heart stopped beating entirely.

“I was scared to tell you because I didn’t want to scare you off. You said all you wanted was friendship and I didn’t want to push you away. You’re my best friend. You’re the only one who really sees me, the only one who really cares. You make me a better man. I can’t imagine my life without you in it. Everyone leaves but I can’t lose you. Not you. I… I love you. I’m in love with you,” he sighed, taking a step closer and gauging your reaction.

“You… do?” you whispered, scared that if you spoke too loudly he’d vanish and you’d wake up from this dream.

“I love you,” he repeated, placing his hands on your shoulders and running them down your arms to interlock your fingers.

“I love you too,” you choked out, your tears running freely now. “Jimin I love you so much it hurts.”

Jimin lifted one hand to cup your cheek, his eyes full of love and adoration and contentment. His gaze flickered down to your lips then back up to your eyes. You nodded, just barely, and he leaned in. Finally, after months of daydreaming about this very moment, Jimin’s soft, plush lips pressed against your own. Time seemed to stop, and everything faded away but Jimin and the way he kissed you.

His kiss was gentle, but held so much passion. All the words he couldn’t say, or didn’t know how to, he flooded them all into the way he kissed you, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you closer as he worked his mouth against your own. Kissing Jimin felt like coming home, like the first breath of air after being caught in a current and forced underwater until your breaking point. It felt right.

Jimin’s tongue danced along your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth, allowing him entrance. His tongue explored your mouth, sliding along yours and it felt more like a loving caress than horny college kids making out. Deepening the kiss had lit something inside you and you pressed even closer to him, pouring all your love and longing into the actions between your lips.

Pulling away only when your lungs began screaming for air, Jimin rested his forehead against your own, his breaths coming out labored. His eyes searched yours and a slow smile spread across his reddened lips.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he admitted breathlessly.

“Me too,” you giggled, hiding your face in the crook of his neck as the blush crept into your cheeks.

Jimin laughed and held you tight against him, rubbing soothing circles against your back. You both stayed like that, in the middle of the road, the only light being the stars and the moon, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was that Jimin loved you. Jimin loved you! And he wanted you. And you were safe in his arms.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” Jimin smiled, pulling back to look at your face.

You nodded, slipping your hand into his and walking beside him. Your whole chest felt like it was going to explode. You were elated. You were shocked and excited and so, so happy. You giggled to yourself, hiding your face with your free hand as Jimin walked you home.

“What’s so funny?” he chuckled.

“I can’t believe this is real, I’m so happy,” you admitted, biting your lip nervously and shooting a curious glance his way to watch his reaction.

Jimin smiled softly, pulling you closer to leave a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Me too baby. Me too,” he said softly.

Jimin walked you home and you both crawled into your bed. Jimin wrapped you up in his arms and held you close. You felt like you were in heaven. You ran your fingers through Jimin’s hair, then trailed them down his arm, tracing his tattoos with the tips of your fingers. Jimin smiled, rubbing shapes and doodles into the skin of your back where your shirt had ridden up.

His gentle caresses were soothing, and after the ultra emotional day you’d had, you were pretty drained. You drifted in and out of consciousness, shifting closer to Jimin and he grinned, holding you against his frame and leaving gentle pecks on your neck, your ear, wherever he could reach. You giggled.

“I’m so glad you’re finally mine,” he whispered into the chilly air of your room.

“I’ve been yours, Jimin. From the moment I met you,” you admitted sheepishly.

“I might not have known it yet, but I was yours too,” he smiled, kissing your cheek. “Now go to sleep.”

So you did.

-♡-

About a week later, the rumors were still running rampant about you and Jimin after you’d both made it official on social media, and were now spotted sharing sweet kisses and tender touches in public rather than just being together. You’d received a fair amount of messages and evil looks, girls upset that you’d taken Jimin off the market and now his skills were “going to waste.” You’d just roll your eyes and hit the block button.

You had been wondering about those skills more and more recently. Once you and Jimin had started dating, he had seemingly become allergic to wearing shirts. Prancing around your dorm room with his toned body on display, delicious ink decorating the surface of his ivory skin… you were frequently having thoughts that weren’t exactly PG. But Jimin hadn’t brought up sexual activity, and neither had you.

You felt like you could cut the sexual tension with a knife some days, but didn’t want to push Jimin into anything, not when you knew that he’d used sex as a way to push people away in the past. You knew you were overthinking, and should probably just talk to him, but you were nervous. But oh goodness did you want him. You’d wanted him from the moment you’d laid eyes on him, and rejecting his proposition that first night had been harder than you’d thought.

Now it seemed like every time you looked at Jimin, it became harder to hold back. Knowing that he knew you loved him now, and that he loved you too gave you that level of comfort you needed to be able to finally take the plunge with him. You wanted him to plunge into you. All. Night. Long.

You shook your head to rid yourself of the dirty thoughts you were having just as Jimin climbed in bed beside you, snuggling up to your frame and pulling you against him. You smiled and ran your fingers over the tattoos on his arms, tracing the designs with the tips of your fingers as lightly as you could. Jimin liked that you were always touching him. Running your fingers through his hair, tracing his tattoos, or just resting your palm against his chest. It didn’t matter as long as you were touching him, he was content.

He shifted, laying on his back with one arm tucked behind his head, allowing you to rest your head on his chest and trace the tattoos that littered the skin there as well. Jimin closed his eyes and focused on the sound of your even breathing and the feeling of your fingers gently brushing against his skin. He shivered a time or two, and you snuggled closer, assuming he was cold. Unable to rid yourself of the lingering dampness between your thighs, you let your fingers gently graze across Jimin’s pierced nipple.

Jimin sucked in a breath and bit back a low moan, but you heard his chest rumble with the action. You bit your lip and mumbled a quiet, insincere apology. You traced the tattoos along his collar bone for a while before your fingers daringly dipped down, brushing the other exposed nipple, which had Jimin tensing below you and letting out a quiet whine.

“Are you doing that on purpose?” he accused, focusing his gaze on you.

“Noooo…” you trailed off, looking up at him with faux innocence.

“I’m trying really hard to be good right now, baby girl,” he breathed out, almost as if he was in pain.

“What if… I don’t want you to be?” you whispered seductively, letting your hand trail down his abdomen teasingly.

Jimin’s muscles clenched at the movement, and you noticed there was a sizable tent in his sweatpants. Your mouth watered at the sight. He was clearly working with some nice equipment. Jimin shifted so he could put his full attention on you, his eyes searching yours.

“Are you sure? I know you said you were waiting, are you really ready for this?” he asked, concern and a little bit of hope written all over his face.

“I’m sure. I love you, Jimin. I want you,” you smiled reassuringly, leaning in to place a kiss to his gorgeous, soft lips.

Jimin brought his hand up to cup your cheek, working those plush lips of his against your own. The two of you had made out before, but this felt different. You were filled with anticipation and need. You pressed yourself closer to him, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding gracefully along your bottom lip, which you immediately parted for him.

His deft muscle slipped inside your mouth, rolling against yours skillfully. His hand dropped from your cheek and snaked up your side, sneaking under your shirt and grazing along your stomach until he reached your breast, kneading it underneath your flimsy bralette. His thumb brushed against your nipple and your body jolted towards him, seeking more.

“Mmm… so responsive.” he whispered against your lips with a teasing smirk.

You furrowed your eyebrows, then let your nail scrape gently along his pierced nipple, tugging ever so gently on the metal ring. Jimin moaned into your mouth, his body arching towards yours. You smirked against his lips.

“So responsive.” you giggled.

Jimin chuckled, pulling back to look at you with a raised eyebrow, the light reflecting off the piercing there as well. His cocky look was gasoline on the fire of your arousal, and you made yourself busy by kissing down his exposed neck, leaving a trail of red and purple bruises in your wake. Jimin’s low moans were music to your ears. You wanted to elicit more of the beautiful sounds from the irresistible man who had become putty in your hands.

Urging him onto his back, you straddled his hips and ground your covered core down against his clothed erection for a little relief, causing Jimin to let out more delicious noises. You kissed down his chest, bringing his nipple piercing into your mouth and licking around the sensitive area before tugging it gently with your teeth, scraping the flesh just a bit in the process. Jimin’s hips bucked up into yours at the action.

Your fingers teasingly dipped below the elastic of his sweats, running back and forth along the edge while you worked your mouth against each nipple. Jimin’s hands found purchase on your hips, his nails digging in just a bit so he had something to ground himself while you teased him. Your hand slipped underneath his sweats, surprised to find he’d foregone boxers. Your fingers brushed against his rigid length, and he tensed, gripping your hips harder.

“Don’t tease,” he groaned, head lolling back as he tried to restrain himself.

You giggled, wrapping your hand around his length and slowly dragging it upwards, letting your thumb circle the tip. You used the precum that spilled out to lubricate your next journey down. Jimin groaned, finally losing patience and effortlessly flipped the two of you over until he was hovering above you. He smirked at the surprised expression on your face and began leaving pretty red marks all over your neck and the exposed portion of your chest.

He sat up momentarily, pinning you with a hungry gaze and fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“Off,” he commanded.

You immediately complied, peeling the fabric off your body and tossing it away, revealing your lacy bralette. Jimin’s eyes roamed over your chest and he licked his lips before leaning down and letting his tongue draw a stripe over the thin fabric covering your nipple, already erect and sensitive. Soft whimpers escaped your lips. It felt good, but you needed more.

Jimin’s lips traveled farther down your body, leaving marks all over your skin. He licked and sucked and nibbled in places you never would’ve considered erogenous zones before, but honestly, maybe it was just because it was Jimin. His tongue danced along the hem of your shorts teasingly before he glanced up at you to make sure you were still okay. You nodded breathlessly.

Jimin peeled your shorts down to expose your black satin panties, and you wished you’d worn the lace ones but it could’ve been worse. He brought the little bow tie between his teeth, tugging and letting it snap back against your pelvis. You jumped a bit and Jimin chuckled, mumbling “so cute” under his breath before slipping your soaked panties down your legs and tossing them aside.

“Damn baby girl, you’re dripping,” he grinned triumphantly. “What got you all worked up like this?”

“Jimin,” you whined impatiently.

“That’s right baby, say my name,” he teased (although he wasn’t really joking), but didn’t waste much more time, lowering his face and licking a bold stripe along your folds to distract you while he snuck a finger closer to your entrance, letting your arousal aid him in entering you. His tongue drew some sort of lost language on your clit with expertise, and it was almost impossible for you to hold still with the amount of pleasure coursing through your veins.

Your hips bucked up and Jimin moved a hand to splay along your lower stomach, holding you down onto the bed while he devoured your pussy, slowly adding a second and third finger to stretch you out. It burned for a moment before you got used to it, Jimin’s fingers gliding along your walls and hitting your g-spot repeatedly. Even for your first time together, he knew your body like the back of his hand.

You could already feel the coil deep inside you threaten to snap at Jimin’s ministrations. You were a moaning mess, babbling his name like it was the only word you knew. His plump lips wrapped around your throbbing bundle and he sucked- hard. You groaned, back arching off the bed as your orgasm crashed over you, your vision going spotty. Now you knew why they said he could make you see stars.

Your body fell lax against the mattress as you panted, before pushing yourself up on your elbows to see Jimin’s face lift from your core. He met your eyes and seductively licked your juices off his lips, closing his eyes and savoring the taste of you. Your mouth went dry at how erotic he looked, and he climbed up your body, pressing his lips to yours and allowing you to taste yourself.

Your mouths worked against each other, and you wound your fingers in his hair, tugging gently on his soft locks, causing him to let out a low whine.

“Do that again,” he begged against your lips, his voice deeper and a little hoarse, but needy.

You wound your fingers in his hair, gripping it tighter and tugging again. Jimin let out a strangled moan, grinding his rock hard member against your core. Your body shivered at the feeling of his clothed shaft pressing up against where you needed him the most.

“Jimin, please,” you sighed, bucking your hips up to meet his.

“Okay baby. Oh fuck. Please tell me I still have a spare condom,” he suddenly groaned, reaching over for his wallet on your nightstand.

You watched him curiously, your eyes lingering on the curve of his plump ass under his sweats. You licked your lips, wanting to bite into the flesh. You’d save that for another time. Jimin let out a triumphant noise and held the condom in the air like a first place medal. You giggled at your boyfriend and rolled your eyes with a smile.

Jimin slid his sweats off in one smooth motion, kicking them away and onto the floor somewhere before ripping the condom open with his teeth and rolling it onto his length. Jimin paused, peering at you from his place above you, a small smile curling onto his plush lips, his eyes alight with adoration.

“I love you,” he whispered, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“I love you too,” you sighed happily.

“Are you ready?” he asked, squeezing your hand gently.

“Yes. I’m ready.”

Jimin leaned down, meeting your lips in a soft kiss, and slowly slid his rigid length into your honeyed entrance. You gasped into his mouth at the welcome intrusion, his cock stretching you in the most delicious way. Even with the prep from his fingers, his cock stretching your walls burned just slightly. Jimin deepened the kiss in an attempt to distract you from the discomfort, slowly inching more of his length inside until he bottomed out, his hips flush against yours.

Jimin fit inside you perfectly, his thick cock filling you up like he was made for you. He pulled back to look at your face, and you shot him a reassuring smile. He brought your joined hands up to his lips, placing them gently on the back of your wrist, and once you nodded your approval, he slid out until just the bulbous tip was left inside, before sliding back in, setting a slow, torturing pace.

This wasn’t your first rodeo, though you were nowhere near as experienced as Jimin, but no one had ever felt this good inside you. No one had ever felt this right. Jimin reached places inside you that no man had before and you were already falling apart at the movement of his hips. Jimin was definitely a dancer, able to move his body precisely and with precision, angling his hips to hit that soft spot inside you with every thrust.

“Fuck babygirl, you look so beautiful like this,” he groaned into your ear, his hot breath coming out in short puffs from the physical exertion.

“Ngh. Jimin,” you whined, “Please. More.”

“Can you handle it?” he wondered, experimentally dragging his cock a little faster along your walls, continually hitting that sweet spot inside you.

“Yes, yes please. Need you,” you whimpered, bucking your hips up to meet his.

Jimin’s brow furrowed in concentration and his hips picked up speed, his sole purpose in that moment to give you the most blinding pleasure you’d ever experienced. His punishing pace had you wailing out his name in ecstasy, clawing at his back in a desperate attempt to ground yourself to something, lest you float away into oblivion from the fire building deep in your core.

“Come on baby, you look so pretty when you cum for me. Let go,” Jimin urged, his free hand slipping between your bodies to rub at your clit.

“Fuck… Jimin!” you cried out, and his teeth sinking into the flesh of your neck was the last thing you needed to send you careening over the edge into bliss for the second time that night.

Your breath coming in heavy pants, you were surprised when Jimin showed no signs of slowing down. Your walls continued to clench around his length in the aftermath of your orgasm, and Jimin let our low growls at the feeling of your pussy swallowing up his cock with each thrust. You whimpered, slightly sensitive from your two previous orgasms, but Jimin pistoning himself inside you still felt heavenly.

Jimin shifted, pulling your leg up over his shoulder, the new position allowing him to reach even deeper inside your core, and your eyes nearly rolled back in your skull at the sensation of his cock kissing your cervix. You were a whimpering mess, your moans now garbled gibberish, not making any sense. All you knew in that moment was Jimin and how good he made you feel.

His lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive flesh, and you shivered. His thrusts were getting erratic as he chased his own high, but Jimin was desperate to make you cum again first. He pinched and rolled your clit between his thumb and forefinger, abusing the bundle in the best way, sending you closer to your high once again.

“Fuck, Jimin- I-” you groaned.

“Come on baby, give me one more,” Jimin encouraged, using all his strength to hold back his own impending orgasm as he slammed inside of you.

Your whole body seemed to seize as you came for the third time, this one more intense than the others, making you almost dizzy with euphoria. Your throat burned with the force of your screams, quickly turning raw with use. Jimin didn’t last much longer, your cunt clenching around his length sending him over the edge. His hips stilled as he spilled ropes of hot cum into the condom. You could feel the heat from the thin plastic layer and wished that you could feel his seed shooting into you, dripping from your hole.

Jimin collapsed next to you, panting. His body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and he looked absolutely edible like this. His plump lips parted as heavy breaths escaped, he turned his head and his eyes met yours. You were both shaking from the intensity of your highs, and you let out a quiet giggle which made a smile bloom across Jimin’s lips. He let out a quiet chuckle.

“You’re so beautiful,” he cooed, turning his body back to face yours after tossing the used condom into the trash.

His arms wrapped around your torso, bringing your naked chests flush against each other as he peppered chaste kisses along your forehead, nose, and cheeks before catching your lips in a sweet kiss.

“I love you,” you whispered, clinging to his sweaty body like he was the only thing keeping you from floating away, and maybe he was.

“I love you more,” he grinned against the skin of your neck.

“Absolutely not. I love you more,” you pouted.

“Nuh uh,” he teased, fingers poking into your side, causing you to shriek and curl into him.

He laughed and kissed your forehead, relenting from his teasing and tickling. Your bodies spent, you drifted off to sleep together, safe in the comfort of each other’s arms.

-♡-

Months had flown by in the blink of an eye. Suddenly, it was May and you were graduating. They say time flies when you’re having fun, and they are right. Every moment spent with Jimin never seemed to last long enough. After the two of you started dating, Jimin had slowly begun opening up to other people. He learned to trust Hoseok and Taehyung, and your initial impression of them had been correct: they were people Jimin could count on.

Jimin did lose a few friends from the frat house when he stopped trying to play the part of the indifferent fuckboi, but he didn’t really count those people as losses. If they couldn’t accept the real him, they weren’t worth it. The two of you had branched out socially, and made new friends as well. Yoongi, the music major, who began working at the coffee shop you both frequented. He was stoic and unapproachable at first, but Jimin had commented on his band t shirt once and Yoongi’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, showing that he was actually super sweet and thoughtful once you got past his icy exterior.

Namjoon, the business major whom you’d met while browsing the shelves of your university library. You’d been having a hard time reaching the book you wanted, and Namjoon had assisted without you even asking for help, his much taller frame bringing the book down to your level. He’d told you he had read that book at least ten times and you would surely love it. The two of you hit it off and soon Jimin joined you, immediately connecting with Namjoon as well. He was smart, patient, and would make an amazing businessman, just from the way he could read people but never treated anyone any differently.

Seokjin, the culinary arts major who had gone around campus giving out free samples of his work, promoting his new youtube channel “Eat Jin.” One taste of his dasik and you were begging him for the recipe. Jin had lit up and began explaining exactly how to make it and invited you to an episode of Eat Jin.

Jungkook, who hadn’t quite figured out what he wanted to do yet, had met Jimin at the gym. He was boxing in the practice room that Jimin had reserved to dance. He hadn’t noticed he’d gone over his time, and when Jimin politely entered the room, complimenting his form, he’d flushed and shot him the most adorable bunny smile. Jungkook apologized for running over his time and Jimin brushed it off, but Jungkook insisted on buying him coffee as an apology.

Slowly but surely, your friendship group grew, each new friend weaving their way into your hearts and teaching you something new. They got along with each other as well, as it turned out. You’d thrown a surprise party for Jimin’s birthday and invited them along, Namjoon and Jin became inseparable almost immediately, and Hoseok and Yoongi as well. Taehyung and Jungkook became a dynamic duo, consistently stirring up trouble wherever they went.

Hoseok and Hana hadn’t broken up, after all. Hana had even contacted you to get coffee, apologizing for judging Jimin unfairly and trying to get in between the two of you. She’d joined your little group of friends, which slowly became more like a second family . Jimin flourished, surrounded by people who loved and cared for him exactly as he was.

He didn’t have to pretend to be anything but himself, didn’t have to please anyone, play any parts. His smile reached ear to ear and his eyes shone with love and light and so much life. Thinking back to the way they’d been dull and lifeless when you first met him brought you to tears as you watched him throw his head back in laughter and wrap his arms around Jungkook, who returned the gesture with similar glee.

Jimin no longer seemed broken. The dead weight resting in his chest had been lifted, and he was free. It didn’t happen overnight, and beginning his relationship with you certainly hadn’t been a magic fix, but it had been a catalyst. You taught Jimin that there were people in this world who genuinely could care for him without expecting anything in return. You showed him that there was still good, and he could trust people. Then, slowly, he’d met more and more people who only validated the lessons you’d taught him.

The more people Jimin met who didn’t use him, the more the ice around his heart began to chip away, giving him the strength and the courage to save himself from the darkness that had plagued his heart and mind for so long. And now, you were all graduating, moving on to pursue your dreams and aspirations. It was the last party of your college career, and you’d all gathered because Jimin had announced he’d had something to say to everyone. You gazed up proudly at your boyfriend.

“Thank you all for being here to celebrate the last night of college!” he cheered, earning hoots and hollers from your friends.

“I know we all promised to keep in touch, but I just wanted to make sure that you all know how much I appreciate you being in my life. I love every single one of you, and I couldn’t have asked for a more amazing group of people to surround myself with. You all have lifted me up, encouraged me, and given me the strength to keep fighting when times got tough. They say that sometimes when you’re in a dark place, that you think you’ve been buried. But really, you’ve been planted. You just need a little bit of love and patience before you bloom. So thank you for giving me what I needed to bloom. All of you. Especially you, Y/N. You were the first person who really believed in me, and if it weren’t for you, I never would’ve let in any of these guys. I love you, baby. And I love all of you,” he grinned, “So here’s a toast to all of you, may your future be bright and your beer be full!”

Cheers erupted around you and you cheered along, all of you knocking back a sip of your drink to Jimin’s toast. He hopped down and wrapped an arm around you, kissing your cheek as your friends congratulated him on his speech and shared how happy they were to have met you both as well. Your heart felt like it couldn’t possibly get any fuller than it was in that moment, surrounded by people you loved.

You and Jimin had both grown so much since that first night at the party, you’d fought, you’d cried, you’d laughed, and you’d gotten stronger. You were so proud of him and how far he had come, and you felt peace settle over you knowing the fact that he’d never have to be alone again, and neither would you. No matter what you found on the road ahead, you’d be okay.

You had each other.

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illfoandillfie · 3 years

Text

Good Boy

it’s a little late but this is the final blurb from my Platonically event for Aggressively Arospec Week! Usual caveat that I didn’t really edit it. Sort of follows on from the last smut blurb i posted but can be read as stand alone.

Words: 2,071

Warnings: smut (obv), cockwarming, dom reader, sub ben, orgasm delay

The evening where Ben bent you over the arm of the couch really opened the door for you to play with some other kinky ideas. Nothing too heavy or painful was suggested – spanking with a hand was about as far as you wanted to push it, at least so early on. But both of you had some experience with a couple of kinks from previous relationships and could suggest things that might be fun to try. Neither of you claimed to be experts and google was consulted more than once to answer questions for you, but through the process you found out that Ben was quite good at being dominant when he wanted to be.

Mostly you played around with elements of degradation since, while talking about the couch incident, you admitted it was a key part of why it was so hot – feeling as if Ben was putting his pleasure above yours – though you also tested out some light bondage and incorporating toys into your sex more often. There was one night where Ben put his fleshlight between your thighs, making you hold it as he fucked it (though of course he’d also made sure you came eventually with a mixture of a vibrator and his tongue), and another time he told you how to masturbate, directing your fingers so you got what pleasure he wanted you to have but only when he decided you should have it, and all without lifting a finger himself. Even when he’d got so hard and horny from watching that he just wanted to be in you, even then he made you do all the work, telling you how to rub your clit and when to clench down on his motionless dick until you both came. He even managed to call you a slut once or twice, though it never rolled off his tongue as easily as Kitten did.

Then one day you made what was meant to be a harmless joke. “Maybe you don’t like calling me a slut because you’d prefer it if I called you that,” Ben’s reaction was interesting. He laughed but it was a higher pitch than normal, his cheeks flushing lightly. You suspected he might not hate the idea and proved as much when you cooed at him, “Do you want to be my pretty slut Benny?” He nodded slowly, the pink on his cheeks getting more pronounced. It made sense really. Ben liked pleasing people, especially pleasing you sexually. He liked going down on you just because, sometimes not even letting you return the favour afterwards, and liked to make sure you felt good while you were having sex, even if you couldn’t actually get off. So when you made a gentle suggestion for him to take off his clothes, he did exactly what you asked. There was no questioning, no talking back, no snarky comment, no brattiness at all. Just service. When you talked about it later you both agreed that you’d liked the dynamic. He obviously enjoyed following instructions and making you happy and, aside from the physical sensations and the orgasm that made you feel good, you also really enjoyed the gentle domination. It was caring in a way. Knowing you were making Ben happy by letting him make you happy. And trying to show it through your words and your touch so he’d know he was appreciated. It was clear that you should experiment with that dynamic more, as well as the other things you’d been trying. And you were already looking forward to the next time you’d get to instruct him, ideas for what to do and how already forming in your mind.

So when Ben had a particularly busy day a few weeks later, you decided it was your chance to try the gentle domme roll again. He left the house by eight in the morning and you didn’t see him again until after six that night. A combination of errands and meetings with his agent and just general business kept him occupied and when he finally did get home he seemed quite tired, flopping onto the couch with a grateful sigh, stretching his legs out down the length of the seat. You sat on the edge of the couch, in front of his knee. “Sorry, Y/N, did you want to sit here too?” “No, it’s fine, you stay there. I was just thinking that maybe I could...” you lay your palm over the front of his pants, softly rubbing until he took the hint. “Oh, really?” “If you’re up for it. I could look after you.” “Go ahead,” he voice sounded huskier than it had before and he cleared his throat as if that would help. You adjusted the angle of your body as you brought your second hand to his crotch, popping the button and tugging down the zip on his jeans, “Lift your hips for me,” He complied easily, letting you tug his jeans and underwear down to his thighs so you had better access to his cock. You got a little more comfortable, laying down beside him on your front, your legs in the air behind you, as you began to tease his cock, tracing your fingers along his length. It was enough to make his breath hitch. “Just relax,” you cooed, laying your head down on his hip so you could watch him get harder under your attentions, “that’s right. Doesn’t take much to get you hard, does it? Such a greedy slut, aren’t you? You kept your voice soft and sweet as you spoke, though you sped up your hand a little “Always so ready for me.” “Thank you,” he said breathily as he nodded. “You’re welcome. I know you just want to feel good right now, don’t you? Yeah, and this feels so good. My hand on your cock, stroking you over and over. Probably my breath too, when I talk, yeah?” “Mmhmm, yeah.” “Yeah. Must feel so nice. So good.” “Yeah,” it was nearly a whine. “I don’t blame you sweetie, I want to help you. I want you to feel good. That’s why I’m doing this. So my pretty needy little slut can feel so good. But y’know what would feel even better?” “What?” “My pussy. Right? Being deep inside me, so warm and tight. That’d feel so good, wouldn’t it?” “Oh f-fuck, yeah, yeah it would.” “Maybe I could give you that instead. My pussy instead of my hand.” It seemed to take a moment for the words to reach Ben’s brain. There was a pause where all you could hear was him panting as you brushed the head of his cock with your thumb, and then, “Really?” “Do you like the sound of that?” “Yes please,” “Okay. Why don’t you keep touching yourself while I get ready.” Ben nodded, his hand replacing yours on his cock as you stood up and began to shimmmy out of your pants. Immediately he began stroking himself faster, touching himself the way he usually liked. “Careful,” you warned, “I know you’re a greedy slut. I know you want it, you need it,” you stretched the word out sweetly, “but if you cum now that’s it, sweetie. No pussy.” Ben whimpered and, with great effort, slowed the pace of his hand to better match the one you’d been using. “Good boy,” you leaned in to kiss Ben, feeling him whimper against your lips. You were a little wet already but not enough so you let Ben dangle, let him wait a little longer, reminding him to cum yet, as you spat on your fingers and rubbed them along your slit. Ben groaned as he watched you press two fingers into yourself, his hips bucking a little as he released his cock. “In a second, sweetie.” You laughed, “You’re so good for being so patient. I know you’re a desperate fucking slut but you’re being so good.”

Ben breathed out another, “thank you,” as you finally sank down onto him. You went slowly, partly because that was the game you were playing and partly because your fingers hadn’t quite been enough to get you ready for his cock. But rubbing more of your saliva over his length helped make it easier and there was only a small sting that accompanied the stretch as you took him fully. When you properly situated on his lap, you felt Ben release a breath he’d been holding. Gently you placed your palm against his chest, rubbing it in a soothing circle. “Is that better? Is that what my slut wanted?” “Yeah,” he whimpered as you quickly clenched on him. “You like being inside me, don’t you Benny?” “Yes, of course. Feels incredible.” It was a bit of a boost to your ego and you couldn’t help but smile, “Well that’s good, sweetie, cause I’m going to stay here for a bit. I like feeling you inside me too and I want to keep feeling it. So why don’t you just watch TV and don’t worry about how tight my pussy feels or how badly you want to cum or anything like that.” Ben nodded and turned his head towards the TV. You settled against him, leaning your head on his chest and slowly running your fingers along his side. It was strangely intimate even though neither of you was looking at the other. A type of intimacy that didn’t feel too close to any of your romance limits. Every now and then you’d reward Ben by pressing kisses to his chest or neck or lips, letting your arms slip around to his back so you could squeeze him tightly. He’d whimper whenever your movements changed, feeling his cock shift inside you or feeling you tighten around him for a moment. But he didn’t complain. His arms were as tight around you as yours were around him. There was no way for you to be any physically closer than you were already and yet it felt like he was trying as he embraced you. You could feel his breaths through the rise and fall of his chest, the way he trembled slightly whenever you clenched or moved. You kept reminding him that he was being so good for waiting, that you loved him, loved how obedient he was and how well he listened to your instructions. That it was okay if he was a slut who liked to feel good because you liked making him feel good and wouldn’t waiting for it just make everything so much better anyway. The praise made him bashful. He focused his gaze on the TV, eyes seeming almost out of focus as he made sure he didn’t look at you, but his cheeks flushed and he squirmed in his seat. But he also seemed a little proud oh himself, proud that he was pleasing you.

You made him wait through six advertisement breaks before you began to rock against him properly, your own breath feeling less even. He moaned as soon as you moved, though he kept his head directed towards the TV until you guided it with your fingers, gently turning him to face you. Seeing you, seeing the way you intentionally grinded your hips against his, made him moan again. “Such a pretty sound from my pretty slut,” you whispered, “Keep sounding pretty for me. I like knowing how good I’m making you feel.” It didn’t take too much longer for him to actually cum, worked up and teased as he was. You didn’t mind either, even though there was no way for you to reach your own high in such a short time. But that had never been the point. He panted into your shoulder, mumbling out more thanks and words you only half heard which just made you chuckle as you carded your fingers through his hair.

You stayed like that for a while, just cuddling as he collected himself, listening to his breathing even out and an odd whimper or two leave his lips. “That was nice,” he eventually said, laughing a little, still seeming a bit coy about how into he’d gotten. “If you don’t mind, we could stay here for a while. I could keep warming you until you got hard again.” “You’re filthy,” “Thats not a no,” you laughed back, “I promise you can cum in me again. If you’re good.” “If that’s what’ll make you happy.”

#my writing #my blurbs #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy smut #ben hardy imagine #platonically event #ahhhh i did it!!#seven blurbs in seven days (or near enough skdjkjsasl)

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megumi-stan · 3 years

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|Soothe Me | M.F x Reader

A/N: It’s Soft Megumi hours! This was supposed to be a NSFW piece, but it was just so sweet i didn’t want to take the story there and distract from his loving and overall caring energy!

All characters are aged up in this story! Also, quick reminder that I’m open for requests :)

Dedication: Thank you so much @timewehad for sending such a sweet ask! You definitely motivated me to finish this thing i started a few days ago and completely forgot in my drafts!

Fighting curses for a living had a price. Besides the constant endangerment of your life.

Sore muscles.

Every time you bent down to tie your shoes, seven different muscles pulled painfully and at least ten vertebrae locked in place, forcing your body into a struggle to straighten itself. If you could walk just looking at the floor without it being weird, you wouldn’t bother to endure the hell that came with a straight spine. If only you had eyes in the top of your head like some of those slimy creatures you fought regularly, your life would be ten times easier.

After one particular busy night, your bed was calling your name. Busy in the sense that little weak curses kept popping around every corner nonstop, like a wicked game of whack-a-mole, only without the hammer. If you had one of those at hand, you surely would feel a lot less stressed. Something about smashing things was an exceptional way to relieve pent-up frustrations.

Walking up to your bed proved to be an arduous task, with your stiff legs and trembling muscles, but slowly you made progress. Your chest felt like it was about to cave in from exhaustion as you were slightly aware of the shower running and Megumi’s soft voice mumbling the lyrics of some cheesy 80’s love song he unexpectedly knew the lyrics of.

The soft comforter brushed your legs when you got to the bedside, and with no grace flopped down face first into it. You tried to kick off your slippers, but failed terribly as they refused to let go of your feet, so giving up you just left your legs dangling off the side.

Megumi’s sweet singing and the storm outside was a perfect recipe for sleeping, and right at that moment sleeping was all you could manage. Lulled, you drifted off into the place between dream and reality, still slightly aware of everything going around you but too busy making up fictional scenarios where you were laying on Megumi’s chest as a soft warm breeze ruffled your hair and the smell of ocean drowned the smell of coffee that lingered in your bedroom.

“What are you doing?” The fog dissipated, and suddenly you were face to face with your boyfriend.

Megumi had gotten out of the shower and was crouching down on the floor. A soft smile curved the tip of his full lips and amusement glinted in his eyes. Your eyes scanned his face and traveled lower, to the sharp curve of his jaw and the smooth skin of his throat. Drops of water still clung to his bare chest and glistened under the warm light of lamp resting on your bedside table. He looked like one of those greek gods you often appreciated in old paintings, all hard muscle but with a peaceful aura surrounding him, looking like he was a minute away from growing wings and taking off into the sunlight.

You hummed in acknowledgment and turned to your side, ten different vertebrae and a shoulder blade popping in the process. You winced, eyes drifting shut at the sharp spike of pain followed by the bliss of relieved pressure off of your nerves.

“Well, that sounded painful...” His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair out of your eyes and they lingered on your cheekbone, tracing idle circles on your skin. “I’m assuming work was a pain on your ass, huh?” Leaning in, his mouth lingered above your brow for a millisecond before pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead. His breath tickled you and warmth blossomed in your heart.

He got up and walked to the pile of clothes resting stop of a chair in the room’s corner. Your eyes followed his figure and never once blinked as you took in his graceful strides and the patch of pale skin often hidden by his pants, but now on full display because of the towel that hung dangerously low on his hips. He always complain about the word “beautiful” every time you used it next to the “you are”. He would argue non stop, stating you were just trying to boost his ego, but you never once found another word to describe him, and somehow you still felt that Beautiful wasn’t enough.

Not even the other girls gawking at him in the streets and shamelessly flirting while you, obviously his partner, stood next to him seemed to prove your point to Megumi. You couldn’t even be angry at the flirts. He was a sight worth of painting, framing, even adoring. He could be a god disguised as a mere mortal for all you knew, and even that would make more sense. It shouldn’t be possible for someone to be as breathtakingly beautiful as he was.

Even casually standing and just roaming through the pile of clothes, he made your stomach curl with something hot and heavy. The muscles on his arms flexed and his shoulder blades moved underneath his skin, doing very interesting things under the dim lights that had you hypnotized, eyes glued to his back and taking in everything they could, committing every single dip and crevice to memory. You could barely breathe while looking at him.

As if he could have felt your eyes on him like a caress, Megumi looked at you from the corner of his eye, a smirk tilted his mouth and a small barely noticeable dimple appeared on his cheek. Your muscles tensed at the sigh, suddenly too hot and bothered to relax when it was obvious he was evening something. The glint in his forest green irises was a dead giveaway.

Sighing intently while his eyes never once left your form, he loosened his grip on the towel. The white fabric slipped across his legs as it came undone and landed at his feet. Traveling the distance your fingers twitched to travel as well. He was sideways, showing you his profile as he grabbed a pair of loose black sweatpants. His well-defined thighs were teasing you, seemingly mocking you along with the deep V on his hip. His position was so that nothing too inappropriate could peek, and you were never awakened as fast as in that moment.

He slipped the pants on, managing not to flash you in the process and came right by your side, the smell of spice and pine from his deodorant enveloped you in a hug as he, in a sweet action that had your belly feeling funny from the amount of butterflies fluttering around, took off your slippers, his fingers casually brushing the arc of your feet and triggering chills down your arms.

“Thank you...” You muttered, turning to lie on your back. Another joint popped, but you couldn’t feel which one it was. Megumi Chuckled at this and shook his head while circling the bed. He sat down with his back against the headboard, going through his phone. His hip bone was leveled with your head and the temptation to just press your lips against it was poking your brain, but your body refused to move a few inches to do so. You were so exhausted and even tho it was worth it you couldn’t for the love of god lift your head from the mattress.

“Tired?” he questioned, while his fingers made their way to your head and sunk into your hair. With knowledge he had from years of dating and even before that when you two were just friends, Megumi’s fingers stroke your scalp, earning a soft hum of approbation from you. You looked up and found his eyes already on you, phone long forgotten because of the new task he had at hands.

“Yeah, a little…” You said, with your eyes fluttering close to enjoy the attention he was giving you.

Megumi patted your head a few times to catch your attention, and when you looked at him, he extended his arms towards you, asking you to get in between them. “Come here…” He invited, a sigh laced in his words.

You tried to push yourself up from the bed, but your treacherous arms failed you, giving up under your weight and sending you face first into your bed.

“Your helpless… You know?” Megumi chuckled under his breath before one of his arms snaked around your waist, his bicep flexing and pulling you onto his lap. Once he had you where he wanted, with your back pressed against his chest and his hands resting on your midriff, he kissed your cheek. Your eyes drifted shut simply enjoying his presence, letting the even rais and fall of his chest calm your mind. “Can i have a kiss?” he muttered, resting his chin on your shoulder, and peering at you with those forest green eyes that seemed to shine, and when he was so tender towards you, how could you deny?

Your chest soared with his words, so you turned your head to meet his awaiting lips, you could almost feel the softness of his mouth when a sharp searing pain stabbed your spine halting your movements as you squeezed your eyes tight. “Shit,” You cursed, pressing your palm against the ache in the back of your neck, hoping it would do something to soothe it.

“Oh, god… Baby, let me see?” Megumi’s fingers pried yours away and then brushed your hair away. His fingers thumb brushed your skin two times over the spot you were holding, and even though it still hurt, his concern seemed to tone the pain down a little.. “Does this hurts?” He applied a little more pressure and when you didn’t wince he kept going, tracing circles and working to erase the knots and kinks that bothered you. “Lean forwards for me…”

Doing just what Fushiguro instructed, you leaned forwards as he shifted underneath you. Suddenly you were no longer sitting on top of his legs but instead sitting in the mattress while his thighs circled yours, pressing against them and allowing his warmth to seep into your legs through the fabric of your jeans.

His other hand soon joined, and his fingers massaged your shoulders and neck intently. You could still feel the burn and sometimes when he pressed a little to hard on a specially sore spot you would yelp and try to get away from him, but he was fast to apologizes and land a kiss on the side of your neck.

You two spent fifteen minutes in that comfortable silence, until he perked up and and halted his movements

“I know what to do… Hold on a minute.” He shuffled behind you and leaped out of the bed, walking away into the bathroom without any explanation.

You just sat there, waiting, and wondering if he had some kind of lotion or cream to help you. You couldn’t recall ever seeing one in the shelves, but he often bought things and forget about them hours later.

The sound of running water rushed out and drowned the silence. You counted on your head, one minute, two, three… Still no signs of Megumi coming back to bed.

“Megumi?” Your answer came in the form of footsteps. Coming out of the room, he smiled at you as he approached. “What are you doing…?”

“Come here…” He said, not answering your question and scooping you up in his arms. On instinct your legs circled his waist while he supported your weight with his hands underneath your thighs.

“Megumi!” You laughed, surprised, clinging to his shoulders while he walked you two back into the steamed filled bathroom. The scent of flowers was what hit you first, closely followed by the sight of a filled tub with bubbles. “What?… Did you do this?” You asked in wonder, feeling cupid just shot another dozen arrows into your already pierced heart.

“Of course… You’re not feeling well, and a warm bath is a wonderful solution.” Pride shone in his eyes. He lowered you on the edge and took a step back. “Get in, and I’ll be right back.” He moved towards the door but hesitated before exiting the room. “Can you take off your clothes? Because I wouldn’t mind helping you out with that…”

“Oh god…” Embarrassment hit you like a wave and you covered your heated face with your hands. “That won’t be necessary, thank you. “

“Just looking out for my girl.” the dimple appeared again, and you almost wanted to crawl under the water to hide from the embarrassment. Even after all this time, he still earned a reaction from you.

“I’m sure you do.”

His laugh lingered in the air as he exited, and with shaky fingers you unbuttoned your jeans and slipped them off. The muscles on your back pulled as your pulled the hem of your shirt over your head, but you endured it. The sweet call of the warm water had you stripped down and inside the tub in no time.

Bubbles covered your chest as the heat from the water seeped into your body, the water brushed your chin as you just felt all the exhaustion from the day drain out of your body. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you lounged in the water like a tea bag without a care in the world.

“Comfortable?” Looking up, he was next to you once again.

“Very...”

He tapped something on his phone, and a soft guitar strummed. He placed it on the mirror shelf before grabbing the elastic of his pants. Noticing he was actually pulling them down, you turned away, covering your eyes.

“What are you doing!?” You asked, startled.

“Well... You seriously don’t expect me to get in with my pants on, do you?” He said matter-of-factly. And a shiver raced down your arms, while a heated wave pooled at the pit of your stomach.

“Are you getting in? You just showered! ” You stole a glance at him, forcing your gaze to stay on his face.

“Yes, but then you weren’t sitting in the bathroom with this much skin exposed... are you really embarrassed?” Laughing kicked the garment off. “You just watched me change a few minutes ago.”

“Shut up, Megumi.” You whined, fighting the urge to let your eyes roam.

“Come on, scoot over.” He laughed. “ I’m worried your might combust from embarrassment.”

Sighing, you moved forwards on the tub, letting enough space for him to sit behind you. The water rippled around you before you felt his soft skin brushing your bare back. His hands found yours and laced your fingers together.

“Better?”

“Yes, thank you, love...” You whispered, bringing your joined hands to your mouth and kissing his knuckles. Scars from past battles scattered the surface but you could only a testimony of his strength.

“Of course.” He squeezed you against his chest for a few heartbeats before asking. “Do you mid if I wash your hair?”

A heat that had nothing to do with the water temperature and all with the rumble of his words crept from your toes to your neck.

“I think I’d like that.”

Grabbing the bottle of shampoo, he dropped some of it on his palm and then he started robbing your scalp in lazy circles, his nails gently scraping it. You could feel his head swinging to the beat of the song sounding in the bathroom, before his voiced joined in.

Lyrics about love and happiness tumbled out of his mouth with a subtle rasp to them. And suddenly you were back to thinking about your dream, the one with beaches and warmth. Maybe a vacation wouldn’t hurt... You considered bringing it up, but the atmosphere was too serene to disrupt it with questions about his schedule. If you asked, it meant he had to stop singing in order to answer you, and that was the last thing you wanted at the moment.

Surely it was the warm water and his fingers, but sitting there listening to his voice and feeling his breath brushing your face, you concluded that Megumi’s mere presence was all you needed to feel better.

#megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #megumi #fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #fluff #my fic #megumi-stan

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staticscreenwriting · 3 years

Text

LOVE LIKE THE MOVIES // BUCKY BARNES // 4

Four - Casablanca

Masterlist

Summary: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for TFATWS)

“ You dressed up! “

God damnit. He should’ve known. He really should’ve. Sam stands by his side, shit-eating grin splitting his face in two. He should’ve just worn a plain sweater and no one would’ve commented on it.

But then would she look at him with that joyful sparkle in her eyes and that gorgeous smile? Maybe the little dressing up that he did do, and all the teasing comments from Sam, are worth it if means she’ll look at him like that.

“I didn’t dress up.” Doesn’t mean he has to admit it. No now, not ever.

“ Uh, your jeans are cuffed. You’ve never done that!” (Y/N) points out to which Sam chimes in with a loud “that’s what I said!” words dripping with amusement.

“ It’s just my jeans, it’s not a big deal.”

“ And you quiffed your hair!”

Bucky glances towards Sam who stands beside him with the biggest smile any person has ever displayed in all the times humans have walked this earth. His joy at Bucky’s obvious discomfort knowing no boundaries and, if it weren’t at his own expense, Bucky would even find Sam’s amusement quite contagious.

“ You totally did! He totally did! I didn’t even notice. Hi,” he says and shakes (Y/N)’s hand “ I’m Sam.”

“ So nice to meet you, Sam. And you dressed up too! As a sexy Ghostbuster!”

Bucky can basically feel Sam’s ego inflate at those words and he knows, for a fact, he’ll never hear the end of it.

“ That’s right! I am a sexy Ghostbuster. Not a regular one. That’s exactly what I was going for, thank you. Man, I love her already.” Sam says, directed at both, (Y/N) but mostly at Bucky.

“ You look lovely too, by the way,” Sam points out and for the first time since they arrived, Bucky gives himself a moment to take her in entirely. Not just the little things, the twinkle in her eyes, the warm radiance of her smile. Her. All of her.

The blue and white checkered pinafore dress she’s wearing reaches down to her knees, her legs are covered by white knee-high socks and at her feet, a pair of ruby red heels sparkle as the light reflects against them.

She looks beautiful but what really makes Bucky’s heart skip just a tiny fraction of a beat is the fact that he knows who she’s supposed to be and, whether she did it purposefully or not doesn’t matter, he feels included for the first time in so long.

“ You’re Dorothy.” his lips produce words that his brain didn’t sign off on. They just slip out. They hold so much weight that even if he’d acted fast enough, he doesn’t think he would’ve been able to hold them back. They’re so seemingly insignificant but they hold a meaning that Bucky isn’t sure anyone will ever fully comprehend. Steve would’ve but Steve is — not here.

He hopes (Y/N) understands even a small fraction of what it means to him. And when she smiles, he thinks she might.

“ I am. Do you like it?”

“ You look beautiful. “ And she does. She really does.

Sam is grinning away like he’s just heard the best news and Bucky isn’t sure if he prefers this to his outright laughter at his discomfort or not. This smirk seems like some inside joke Bucky doesn’t get. Like Sam knows something he doesn’t.

“ Can I get you guys something to drink? Beers? “

“ That would be great “ Sam replies.

“ Grumpy? “

“ Sure.”

He can’t get drunk, that’s one of the little things the Serum changed about him. It’s not like he’s here to get drunk anyway but to feel the enthusiastic buzz that alcohol can wash through your system, would be nice. He hardly remembers what that felt like.

He’s gonna drink some beer either way though. It gives him the feeling of fitting in, of belonging with the crowd. Even if he knows that’s one big lie. Sometimes you have to lie to yourself to keep your heart from breaking.

Kim isn’t a friend. Not really. She’s a friend of a friend who somehow always tags along whenever (Y/N)’s friend group gets together. She’s never actually invited but she’s always there anyway. Tonight is no exception.

She’s dressed in some kind of last-minute DIY deer costume, one of those that have been popular a few years back on Youtube, and the way she smirks at (Y/N) as she enters the kitchen already makes the metaphorical alarm bells go off in (Y/N)’s head.

“ So, I didn’t know you know celebrities. “

“ What are you talking about, Kim? “

“ Oh, you know! “ Kim announces and slides up next to (Y/N), casually leaning against the kitchen counter. “ Do you think he can do some cool tricks with his metal arm? “

“ Who are you talking about? “

Obviously (Y/N) is well aware of who Kim is talking about. There’s only so many people with metal arms and only one of them finds himself at this very party. Still, she doesn’t give Kim the satisfaction of reacting to her ridiculous comment. Maybe, (Y/N) naively hopes, repeating her question will make Kim realize just how rude and offensive her words really are.

“The winter soldier! Who else. That’s him, isn’t it? “

“ No.”

“ You sure? I’m pretty certain that’s him.”

“ His name is Bucky!” (Y/N) clarifies, fixing Kim with a stare that conveys just how serious this is to her. “ And he is not some kind of circus freak or entertainer or something. He is my friend. “

Kim shrugs her shoulders so casually that it sends shivers of red hot rage through (Y/N)’s body. The audacity of this woman. “ Okay sure but he is the Winter Soldier, right? I don’t know why you’re acting so sensitive right now. Chill, girl.”

“ Fuck you, Kim. You are so disrespectful towards my friend. He’s so sweet and genuine and wonderful and he deserves to be seen for all that he is. He is not here for you to stare at like a caged animal and he sure as hell ain’t here to be reminded of his painful past. If you can’t treat him like a normal person, please leave. “

There’s a look on Kim’s face that (Y/N) hasn’t seen on her before. One of utter disbelief. One that lets her know that this was the last thing Kim was expecting. And for a little moment, a huge wave of triumphant enthusiasm crashes over her.

“ Whatever.” is all Kim replies once the shock has settled. With a pout on her lips, she shuffles out of the kitchen and back into the crowd. (Y/N) can’t tell for sure if she’s leaving but there’s no doubt in her mind that at least she won’t be harassing Bucky anytime soon.

A bitter taste settles on (Y/N) tongue, as she thinks about Kim’s words again. About the sick and twisted thoughts that reduce Bucky to little more than a human animatronic. It’s disgusting and so so sad and she just hopes Bucky hasn’t heard her say those things.

As she steps out of the kitchen and rounds the corner though, her hopes are squashed. There’s the usual pain on his face, the one that’s perpetually etched into his features as Bucky leans against the wall. But mixed in between, there’s something else. A confusing mess of emotions she can’t quite place. She knows though. He’s heard every last word.

“ Robin came over, started talking to Sam about some band I don’t know. Thought I’d come see if you need some help. “

“ Bucky, I — “

“ It’s fine.” He interrupts her. (Y/N) doesn’t think it’s really fine. Sometimes people just get so used to saying they feel fine, they actually start believing it. Only fine is not something you want to feel forever, is it? Fine shouldn’t be a permanent state. Fine should be temporary. A path to good. To great. To happy.

“ You sure? “

“ Yeah. I uh — I appreciate what you said.”

“ Oh sure. And I meant it. You’re my friend and you deserve all the good things life has to offer.”

He doesn’t know if he agrees with that sentiment. No, in fact, he’s sure that he doesn’t agree. While he is free of the pain that bound him to Hydra, he will never be entirely free of the guilt his past has put on him. One, he thinks, makes him undeserving of so many things. Like friends. Like happiness. Like love.

And yet it’s nice to know that other people see in him what he may never see in himself.

“ Now let’s go rescue Sam before Robin ropes him into some kind of wedding preparations.”

She says, hands Bucky a bottle, and then grabs his free hand to pull him towards the other side of the room where Robin, dressed as Jessica Rabbit, gestures around wildly as she talks to Sam.

At first, (Y/N) doesn’t even realize it but then she notices that the hand holding hers feels different. It’s not as soft to the touch as a hand usually is. The glove is warm and smooth under her skin but she wishes she could touch the metal. It’s not some kind of weird, misplaced fetishization or some sensationalism. It’s the fact that the arm is a part of Bucky as much as his eyes or his smile or his perpetual grumpiness. And she wants to know every part of him for they make him who he is, and who he is is wonderful.

3 hours.

It’s been 3 hours since they arrived at the party. 3 hours of music he doesn’t get from artists he doesn’t know. 3 hours of staying painfully sober while everyone around him gets exponentially more drunk. 3 hours of pretending not to notice the looks he’s getting.

3 hours and then it got too much. He’s well aware that this isn’t his time. By all means, he shouldn’t be here. Not like this. Stuck in a body that doesn’t match his actual age. Forever reminded of the fact that he’s not meant to be here. Usually, he tries to ignore that. Tries to learn about new things, tries to understand.

This party puts a mirror right in front of his face though. Makes it painfully obvious that this is not where he belongs.

What a party pooper he is. He’d hate himself. If his old self could see him now, standing alone on a balcony because he didn’t like the music inside. His old self would think of him as a coward. His old self is probably right.

“ Grumpy, what are you doing out here, all by yourself?”

For a second the music from the inside spills through the doors and into the serene night, only to be cut off a second later when (Y/N) steps onto the balcony and closes the door behind her.

“ Are you not having fun? “

“ It’s not that. It’s just —”

Just what? Bucky has no idea how to put it into words. It’s moments like this one where having Steve around would be so helpful. He’d understand and he’d know what to say. Steve always knew what to say. Steve just didn’t know when to shut up.

“ You don’t have to explain yourself to me. Ever.” (Y/N) says and bumps him with her shoulder as she leans against him looking out at the New York skyline.

“ I appreciate it.”

“ I was hoping you’d like my costume,” (Y/N) confesses after a moment. “ I feel like I tell you so much about all these movies you missed out on and I don’t know, maybe it’s silly, but I wanted you to feel in the know for once. Does that make sense? “

Bucky bites his lip for everything he wants to say is not something you tell someone you’ve only just befriended a few weeks ago. Never has he felt the need to spill his heart, with all his sorrows and fears and dreams, to anyone. Not until tonight. But it’s too much to burden her with. He can hardly carry the weight himself. To put it on her would be an awfully selfish thing to do.

So he just nods his head and smiles and he says “thank you” like it doesn’t mean anything when really it means the world.

“ Okay well, since I can’t bring you to the party — “ (Y/N) says and fumbles her phone from her dress pocket “ — I’ll just have to bring the party to you.”

For a moment she just types away on the screen before a familiar tune sounds from the speakers of her phone. A familiar tune, to Bucky. One he remembers dancing to when he was a whole other man.

Glenn Miller’s Moonlight Cocktail fills the air and Bucky’s lips unwillingly lift into a smile.

“ If I remember correctly,” (Y/N) says and reaches out her hand to him “ you owe me a dance.”

Bucky laughs and shakes his head, but grabs a hold of her hand anyway “That’s not how it works. You can’t just say someone owes you something simply because you want it.”

She’s so close now. He can see the lights reflecting in her eyes, can feel her chest lift with every breath she takes.

Here’s the thing about loneliness. After a while, you get used to it. It becomes a part of your life, of yourself, like breathing and sleep. You don’t even realize that you’re missing something. Until one day you’re chest to chest with a beautiful girl who thinks you’re wonderful and worthy of her friendship. And it’s then that you realize how lonely you were and how much it hurts and how much you’ve been missing the touch of another.

“ I’ve always wanted to dance through the night. Ever since I’ve first seen Moulin Rouge in the cinema.” (Y/N) says and they start to slowly but surely sway to the music. It’s tentative steps at first, shy and unsure. Barely there moves but there after all.

Sometimes it’s enough for things to be small. The big moments, the important ones don’t need to be big at all. Some of the most important ones don’t demand a lot of space and yet they take up all the space in your heart.

“ Do you remember your first time seeing a movie at the cinema? “ she asks, looking up at him with her starlight eyes.

It’s not a memory he can recall. It’s one of those that have been lost in the shuffle. Like a sweater you love that’s been lost in the laundry or a picture frame gone missing during a move.

“ I don’t. I do remember my last trip to the cinema though.”

“Yeah? What was it?”

This memory is so vivid, it could’ve happened yesterday. He remembers the old dusty velvet seats. He remembers the propaganda spot shown before the movie, the one that put a feeling in his gut as if he’d just swallowed a sack of bricks, now knowing what was to happen but expecting it. He remembers Ruth Dillinger and her gorgeous blond hair and the way it smelled like soap and flowers. And he remembers the movie.

“ Casablanca. Saw it on a date with a girl.”

“ Aw, you took her on a movie date? Lucky girl. “

“ I don’t know if I’d go that far. I wasn’t half as respectable of a guy back then. Was more interested in sneaking a kiss in the dark than taking her to see a good movie. “

“ Did you do the whole, yawning-arm-around-the-shoulder thing?”

“ Obviously.”

“ Oh, you were just a regular casanova, Mr. Barnes? “

“ For sure. “

New York feels alive with the power of possibility. Of a night being more than a night. Of small moments being big and big moments being so tiny and intimate and small. New York feels alive with emotions. Ones Bucky doesn't understand and couldn’t understand. But either way, he feels happier in that tiny insignificant moment than he had in a long time.

“ I’ve never seen Casablanca.”

At that confession, Bucky pushes away from her a little so he can properly look at her, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“ What? It’s a classic. I have good reasons for not having seen most of your movie recommendations, what’s your excuse? “

She smiles bashfully and shrugs her shoulders “ I really don’t know. I just never got around to it. I feel like it’s such an important movie, it asks for a special occasion. Like seeing it at some fancy cinema or in concert or something. You know? “

Bucky only chuckles before pulling her close for another soft sway around the balcony.

Only the serenity doesn’t last very long as the aggressive drumming of some EDM song penetrates the quiet and Sam steps out onto the balcony.

“ Hi guys, uh — am I interrupting something ?”

“ No, no. That’s alright” (Y/N) exclaims, sounding a little flustered as she pulls away from Bucky and presses pause on her phone, plunging them all in silence.

“ I’m gonna get going in a moment. Need to catch an early flight tomorrow morning. “

“ Aw, so soon? Well okay but it was so nice to meet you Sam. You’re welcome at any future party or just drop in at the diner whenever you’re around.” (Y/N) says and pulls him into a hug.

“ I will don’t worry. Told you, I like you already.”

They share another quick hug before (Y/N) excuses herself to get Sam’s jacket from another room, leaving Sam and Bucky alone on the balcony.

“ Do not say a word!” Bucky orders as he notices yet another grin forming on Sam’s face.

“ I didn’t say anything.”

“ But you want to. I can see it.”

“ What would I possibly say, Buck? That you’ve got it bad? You know that yourself. “

“ It’s not like that.”

“ Okay, if you say so. “ Sam complies and lets another silence fall over them.

That’s until he speaks up yet again “ You dance. Man, I can’t believe it. Hey, can you waltz?”

“ Shut up! “

The party is slowly but surely winding down. A lot of people have left by now.

Some are asleep on the couch. On the floor. Against the wall.

A few are still lingering around, talking in low voices. Slurred words, tired eyes, light hearts.

Bucky tries not to step on anyone as he maneuvers his way around the apartment, trying to find the room where (Y/N) put all the jackets. It’s time for him to go, no matter how much he wants to hold onto the moment. He’s tired and the party is as good as over. And anyway, he hasn’t seen (Y/N) in a while.

“ Psst, Grumpy“

(Y/N) peeks out from behind a door, beckoning him closer. As he steps into the room he’s embraced by a warm amber glow coming from a string of fairy lights that frame one wall.

On her bed, (Y/N) sits and leans against the headboard, balancing a laptop on her legs. The wall behind her is covered in photographs. Some of her, some of people he doesn’t know. There are pictures taken at concerts, theme parks, the beach. She’s smiling in most of them. Happy. Memories of a lifetime forever caught on film.

This, Bucky realizes then, is something he wants. Not right now but eventually. To make memories. Ones that last. Ones that don’t get taken away from him. And someone to make those memories with him.

“ Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you,” Bucky asks as she pats the blanket and he sits down on the bed next to her.

“ I’ve been looking for this movie and I finally found a decent copy we can watch.”

“ Now? “

“ Yes now. It’s supposed to be a really good one. I think you’ll like it. “

Bucky’s tired. He honestly just wants to go home and try to find at least a few hours of sleep. But she does it again, that thing where she smiles and his heart does the weird fluttery thing. And he can’t say no to that. Why would he ever want to say no to that?

So he scoots backward to rest against the headboard as well and his eyes take in the swirly white font on the screen spelling out Casablanca over the black and white image of a map of Africa.

His smile won’t be suppressed anymore. It takes over his face like it belongs right there.

"Thought you were waiting for a special occasion?"

“ I was and I found it. Now, what’s the romantic lesson I can learn from this one? “ (Y/N) asks as her head comes to rest on his right shoulder.

Bucky considers it for a moment, tries to recall exactly what happens. Some details are fuzzy, some lost altogether. But he remembers the core of it all. The love shared between two people.

“ It is about sacrificing the thing you want most in life to make sure the people you love are safe and happy. It’s about putting the one you love above yourself and breaking your own heart in order to keep theirs from breaking. Love is selfless, never selfish. And love is worth it. I think that’s what it’s about. “

“ That’s a lovely sentiment. But so sad too.”

Bucky only nods in agreement and as the title credits roll he wonders if he’ll ever get the chance to really figure out love. To fall for someone and love them so much he’d give up everything to see them happy. Even himself.

Though they call it the city that never sleeps, New York seems to grow tired. It grows calm and quiet and maybe for a second it falls into a slumber in the same way that both Bucky and (Y/N) fall asleep, cuddled up on her bed, while Ingrid Bergman flies away on a plane and Humphry Bogard walks into the black of night.

Bucky hasn’t slept in a bed in months in fear of nightmares and terrors lurking in the dark corner of his mind.

That night he doesn’t have nightmares. In fact that night he dreams. Of slow dancing on a balcony with only the stars bearing witness to the moment. He dreams of red slippers and fairy lights and black and white movies.

That night he doesn’t have nightmares. Only sweet dreams.

Taglist // if you want to be added or taken off just message me :) //:

@zaynzierulez // @je-like-you // @dracoxxyoflam // @jackiehollanderr // @majo240820 // @kay-gilles // @booksb4looksstuff // @jckie94 // @charmed-asylum // @shawnie--jo // @yllwtaxi // @tailsoflightning //@giuliarogers

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #avengers imagine #avengers imagines #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #james barnes x reader #james barnes x female reader #winter soldier x reader #he has too many names idk what else to tag

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echo-three-one · 3 years

Text

All in a day's work

A Frank Woods x Reader One Shot

NSFW warning ( Yes this means both Not Safe For Work and Naked Sexy Frank Woods)

Read at your own risk.

Summary : Frank comes home from a tiring trip and you decide to cook him his favorite dinner. Little did you know that he's craving a different menu than what you have planned.

Requested by @maximumpoetrygalaxy

⚫⚫⚫⚫⚫⚫⚫

The savory scent of roast turkey wafts across the kitchen as you transfer it from the baking tray to the plate, humming a tune of your favorite song.

Today is a very special day, because your man Frank Woods comes home from a three day work appointment across the country. You're sure he's going to be tired, so you prepared a feast fit for a king like him. He's never been a person who likes material gifts and you know full well that the best way to your man's heart is through his stomach. You set up the table, trying to make it as romantic as possible, with the hopes of sending a message. After all, you've been away from each other's grasp for quite a long time and you believe you both needed a moment together.

Glancing at the clock, you note that he could be here any minute, so you slowly dim the lights and light up the candles you've placed, sliding away your apron as you stand by the door wearing a beautiful red dress you wore when you first met.

Your heartbeat rises as you hear the revving of his car stop and heavy footsteps approach the door.

"Y/N! I'm home!" he roars, his voice is always that rough and tough, and it instantly turns you on when you hear him say your name.

"Welcome home, Frank!" You greet as soon as he pushes the door open. His eyes widened as he sees you in that dress, you also notice his jaw drop. He then quickly snaps back to his senses as he gives you a tight hug, dropping his bag on the floor. You could feel his warm length bulging from his jeans, making you stifle a moan as he pulls away.

"Hey, Y/N. I miss ya." his eyes stares at yours suggestively. You know this look, and you feel excited knowing that no matter how tired he was, he's still up to it.

You sway your hands across his muscular shoulders and slides it down to his arms, feeling the toughness by squeezing it softly using your thumbs. He might not say it, but he sure damn loves it when you appreciate his 'gains'.

"I miss you too..." You smile as your eyes never leaves his sight, it feels like you two have been sending mental images to each other, and those images happen to mean the same thing. Rough Sex.

He quickly swings his hand and slams the door shut as his hand gently squeeze your waist pushing you to the sofa. You giggle as you look at him unzip his leather jacket, and slowly take it off revealing a plain white t shirt underneath. You take your time and appreciate how the soft white fabric clings on to his shape, especially around the arms, eyes glinting reminding him of how much you miss his presence. A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he slowly crawls over you until his forehead rests against yours.

"Damn, you really made me feel welcome. I could smell my favorite food already." he hushes just inches from your face, his voice vibrates across your ears sending shivers across your body.

"I'll let you decide which to eat first." you whisper against his ear, blowing a tickling gust against it. He gets the idea as he immediately gives you a kiss. His lips hungrily crashed against yours as you respond with matching intensity, showing how much you hunger for his taste as well as his touch. Soft moans mixed with smooching sounds fill your ear as you slowly close your eyes and enjoy the magic of Frank's mouth, your hand clinging on to his hair as tight as you can, letting him know that he shouldn't stop doing it.

You both break the kiss as you gasp for air. Frank looks at you with a suggestive look, as his hands slowly slide off your dress.

"So, are you going to stop me or are you now allowing me to fuck you senseless on your couch?" he teases as the dress slides off you and he slides his fingers under your intimate apparel, which happens to be soaking wet at the moment.

"Only this time." you whimper as he slides his finger inside just as you start to reply. He likes it when his actions catch you off guard. It breaks your character but then again, you wanted him to break more than just that.

"What made you change your mind?" He asks in a very seductive tone, almost amused but still the same roughness, he does it while sliding your underwear down. You want to retaliate by undressing him, but your whole body feels weak and it shudders in excitement as his fingers are working its way down there. It was no match against yours, you've tried touching yourself while he was gone, but this feeling was way more different than what he's doing now. His fingers slid knowing what to do and each movement makes you whimper in excitement. And that's just two fingers.

"I needed you... now... badly..." your voice is as soft as a sigh, there's desperation in your voice and it brings a smile to his face. The kind of smile that boosts his ego. A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he holds on to your waist and rolls across the couch, that way, you're now on top of him.

"Suck me." he whispers as you hear him unbuckle his belt, you quickly turn your way around and sit on his face while you slowly massage his cock as is springs out of his underwear. Wrapping your fingers around his cock, you slowly jerk it up and down, grinning at his grunts while his tongue licks off your pussy, trying not to move much as his beard tickles your sensitive areas.

You slowly put your mouth on his length slowly as his tip makes it's way on your tongue, slowly pulling it back up again and then down, as his cock coats itself with your saliva. He then surprises you by thrusting himself up, making you choke a little.

"Fuck, that sounds good..." he looks at you with mischief as you get down from him while he sits up on the sofa, his legs spread open as he guides you to sit on his cock.

You didn't hesitate as you get on top of it and he slowly slides himself inside you, his warm tip gently punctures through your pussy. You breathe out a sigh of both pain and pleasure, as you feel them both simultaneously.

Frank lets out a soft grunt, he surely enjoys how eager yet careful you are, and he shows it by sliding his hands from your waist upward as his thumbs circle around your perkly nipples.

You moan at the sensations you've felt as another inch inserts you, Frank's eyes sparks with lust as you look at him, his mouth breathes out roughly as you let his cock dig further into you. Grunts getting louder as you rise and fall on him, feeling his every inch letting him feel welcome. Then you finally stopped, he's almost all the way in but your face looked like you can't take much more.

Frank notices this and let's out a soft smile as he gives you a kiss, which was quite quick as he didn't let you kiss back, moving quickly to your neck and shoulders. You want to complain but then you feel him slowly jerking a bit deeper, your walls clenched as it hugs his cock tight.

"Mmmh.." is all that you could muster as he thrusts softly inside you, your hand clenches on his shirt tight as he starts to pick up his pace as soon as you get accustomed to his size.

You can hear Frank grunt and groan as you bounce on top of him, smiling mischievously as he realizes that you're the one who's picking up the pace, you compose barely audible 'yeah's and 'fuck's while doing so, all of which brings amusement to him. You could feel insides flutter signaling your closeness to climax, Frank sees this in your eyes as he quickly halts and positions you on all fours across the sofa.

You turn back to him as he quickly takes off his shirt, revealing his well sculpted body, a sight you enjoy looking at most of the time. His erect cock sways sideways as he slides down his pants and takes off his socks and shoes.

He slaps your ass cheeks hard as you wince in pain, letting out a gasp as he hastily inserts his whole length inside you, you could feel how much he'd long for this to happen as he squeezes your ass cheeks while thrusting intimately with increasing speed, as evidenced by the loud sounds of your skin hitting against each other.

You didn't mind yelling out his name, you scream for it along with some words the dictionary couldn't describe, you scream for it even if he's just behind your neck, whispering words behind your ear, words that sends shivers across your whole body. Just as you thought you felt it all, he suddenly flips you again as he spread your legs, letting one rest on his shoulder, wrapping it with his arm. He continues to fuck you senseless, this time you could see him smiling at you, his eyes filled with the same lust earlier but this time, it's fixated on yours.

You whimper as you could see your breasts wiggle up and down on each of his thrusts, his free hand alternating between grabbing your breast and rubbing his thumb by your pussy, all those actions sending you to a flurry of incomprehensible yet ecstatic sexual desire.

"I'm coming." he breathes, his voice is raspy yet still sexy. You nod and whimper in approval, preparing yourself as he slams himself quickly on to you a few more times, sending you both on a very arousing finish. You can feel his warm load heat up your insides, as he slowly crashes his weight on you, giving you soft kisses while you finally retaliate with more tongue action. He seems to be surprised by this and he quickly kisses back as you feel him slowly getting hard once again.

#horRAYfic #one-shot #frank woods #frank woods x reader #requested

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bakughostly · 3 years

Note

hi👉👈 would you be open to sharing some tidbits of your new fics? your current ones live in my head rent-free

this is literally so sweet of you to ask!!! i am more than willing to share!! i've been moving so writing has been going slower and these aren't as polished as i'd like them to be, but here are tidbits from two of the fics in progress! (they're also like super different types of stories, so the first tidbit is big literary fiction/the reader also gets character development, the second is more true-to-form fic writing. sorry for the tonal whiplash lmao)

tw for character death (the character is not specified) and super vague descriptions of the cremation process!!

it's the living that's hard

He shows up three minutes before the time you’d agreed on this morning, his illegally-parked Toyota Yaris gleaming black like snakeskin. When you slide into the car, the heating system’s airflow engulfs you. Your skin still feels too cold.

Moments with Bakugou have always had a sort of weight to them—an almost stifling blanketed silence. In his car, watching the smooth way his hands slide over the old Toyota’s steering wheel, the silence feels different. You’ve only ever interacted with him in office settings, group gatherings—never an enclosed space where you’re sure he can hear each and every one of the deep breaths currently keeping you grounded.

You met him at a hero gala years ago, when your partner was just starting out, when the long nights of training turned into longer nights of patrol shifts and meetings and press events. You’d always been hero-adjacent—analytics may sound like a boring job, but it’s the safest way to make good money in Musutafu, especially if you’re a UA grad—so you understood, to an extent. You saw the work it took to become a good, well-recognized hero from the numbers end of things: ratios of assists to captures, public perception and approval, agency statistics and their impact on hero ratings.

Bakugou took the spot of number ten hero at the age of twenty-one. He knows, better than you and your partner, what it means to work yourself to the bone. He wasn’t anyone you would have sought out by yourself, that you would have struck up a friendship with, especially when he was at his worst.

But that night was a rare good one for him. He smiled, just once, when his new title was announced, pride etched into the hard planes of his face. You decided he couldn’t be as bad as everyone else you’d met from UA had made him out to be.

You were wrong, of course, but even in his lowest moments you remember that smile--that single moment in which he’d allowed himself to be proud, to relish in the accomplishments he worked so hard to achieve.

Nothing in the past week has been familiar. Everything is dismantled, upheaved, broken—the cracked glass in the picture frame on the side table next to your bed, the ache in your sides that gets worse every time you're alone, the quicks of your nails that have been bitten unevenly down to nothing.

Everything is painful to touch. There’s an ache in your fingers you can’t quite dislodge.

You couldn’t bring yourself to be there when your partner was placed into the cremation chamber, limbs arranged careful and proper. It’s something you’ve thought about since you got the call this morning, a bored front desk person telling you that it was time to come to the crematorium and complete the death rites.

It was Bakugou that you asked to drive you there, to help you with the kotsuage, to pass the bones of your lover between mismatched pairs of wooden chopsticks.

Before you leave the car, he reaches out—almost touches you. Pulls back before his fingers can graze your wrist. “I can tell them we’ll do it another time.”

You shake your head, chest tight. There’s a tall black pine next to the crematorium, just offset behind it, and it reaches over the curved, gray-shingle roof to the cold sky. The needles blend and clear, your face is hot and cold, your hands are numb and not. It feels like you’re going to die if you don’t get out of this car right now. You dig bitten-down finger quicks into your palms and force yourself to ache.

“I don’t give a shit if they called today,” he says, voice made more gruff by the cold that snakes into the idled car. “If you’re not ready, they’ll wait.”

“It wouldn’t be respectful,” you tell him. Not to the crematorium—to your partner. You don’t want them to wait longer than they already have.

You return to the familiar quiet as you step out into the mid-morning frost, as you enter the cramped building and follow the crematorium director to the table of ashes, as you pick out snowdrop bone from the soot-black remains. Phalange and vertebra, metacarpal and jaw. The collagen framework of the body you once called home.

They’re interred in a simple brass urn because they prefer—(preferred, you correct)—minimal over intricate.

Their family shrine is close. Without asking, Bakugou knows to drive you there. To let your partner be with their ancestors for a little while before they’re buried, traditional, like their family would have wanted. You burn incense—patchouli, their favorite—and allow them to rest with their kindred spirits. A sweet reunion amongst so much bitter.

He drops you off afterwards, pulling up to the sidewalk in front of your apartment building’s front door. You slip out of his car along with the interior’s heated air, and you can see his breath when he says your name, frosted and curling into the windshield.

He looks conflicted. Not sure what to say. He’s not the type to apologize—and you appreciate that. All you’ve heard for days is sorry, sorry, sorry, variations on a theme. You’re sick of it. If he apologizes now for all that you’ve lost, you think you might actually break down on the sidewalk. Kneel on the concrete until all of its peaks and valleys are carved into the shape of your shins.

“I know you’re gonna try to handle all this yourself,” he tells you eventually. “But don’t be a dumbass. If you need something, call me.”

“I will,” you tell him. It’s the truth. “Thank you.”

He nods, a lurched motion, as if he’s not quite sure how to react to anything you do. There’s no buffer between you now that your partner isn’t there to soften interactions like taking punches. You have to look at each other when you speak because there’s no one else to look at. Every word, every motion, is a direct and unavoidable blow.

“Yeah,” he responds, eyes on the massive pothole next to his car, on the street corner’s tilted lamp, on anything except the person his words are meant for. “Just don’t mention it.”

An expression, but one he means literally. If you weren’t a mess, it might have been Tell anyone about this and you’re fucking dead. It might have been I’m doing this for them, not for you. You wonder where he draws the line between pity and obligation.

And you’re not going to mention it. You know that this is more than he does for most people. For anyone, really. All of this—the quiet rides, the silent but present support, the way his chopsticks steadied yours when your hands started shaking so badly that you nearly dropped a starlight-soft piece of bone—is nothing you would ask of him. Expect of him.

That doesn’t mean you don’t wish he would stay, if only to numb the sharp edge of your apartment’s unfitting silence.

new mexico piece that doesn't have a name yet

The sky is a burnt orange above the desert when you get there, the lamps down the street above the gas station clicking on as the day continues to darken. There’s a door to the inside office of the garage on the left side of the building, but the two large, vertically sliding doors on the right are open, revealing the main shop.

A large speaker towards the back of the shop is blasting nineties hip-hop, a smooth, bassy beat overlaid by enunciated, intricate verses that adhere to the music’s tempo easy as breathing. It’s the kind of music you’d expect to hear in a mechanic’s shop, but for some reason, not the kind of music you expected Bakugou to listen to. The dark-clothes-red-eyes-and-edgy-undercut vibe screams metalhead. So do the blatant anger issues.

There are two cars other than yours on the floor, and you see him bent over the engine of a cherry-red Corvette with its hood popped. The car looks like it was made forty years ago even though it shines like it just rolled out of the factory.

But what’s more distracting than the car is Bakugou’s wide back, completely bare, the muscles shifting with each movement of whatever tool he’s using, a fast clicking noise filling the air. You still think he’s a dick, but there’s no denying that his body is impressive, all hard angles and toned lines and a shoulder-to-waist ratio that some models would probably kill for.

You only let yourself watch for a second more—maybe two or three—before you clear your throat. And then, when he doesn’t seem to hear you, you say, “Uh, hey. I’m back.”

He turns, grabbing a grey-tinged rag from the edge of the Corvette’s hood and wiping his hands on it, his fingers stained soot-black. When he’s fully facing you, your eyes catch on a long line of grease running up his obliques, drawing your gaze down the length of his torso to the waistband of his dark jeans.

Fuck. He’s got to put in work to look like this. There must be absolutely nothing else to do in Musutafu except work out and fix cars, and the man in front of you is living proof of that.

“Eyes up, extra.”

Your face heats because he’s caught you blatantly checking him out, and you rapidly look away from him and towards your car. “Just noticing how dirty you are. Not a great way to greet customers.”

“Comes with the job,” he says, unimpressed. “Customers are gonna have to deal with it. You want to know what’s wrong with your car, or did you just come here to be a fucking creep and stare?”

You’ve never met someone that purposefully tries to piss off other people as much as Bakugou, and you don’t want to meet anyone like him again after this. “Keep your ego in check. I’m here for my car.”

“It’s just like I thought. Rotor’s fucked beyond repair. Your brakes are shot on your other front wheel from picking up the slack when you drove into town.” He lets out a short, frustrated sigh. “Gonna have to replace the entire wheel along with the tire because you warped it so bad.”

“That sounds expensive.”

He looks at you like you’ve just said the dumbest thing he’s ever heard. “That’s what happens when you do reckless shit like this. You’re lucky you didn’t bend the whole axle. You’d be looking at way more.”

Your palms are sweating. Maybe it really wasn’t worth it to drive to the gas station in the rain. Maybe you should’ve stayed in the void and waited for morning. Waited until you could walk into town cold and exhausted, abandoning the paintings that cost more than your entire net worth. “Just give me an estimate.”

He gives you a number about a grand and a half more than what you have in savings. “And that’s not including labor.”

You nod, keeping your breathing even. You don’t want to react in front of him. Or at all.

Despite that, you feel your throat start to tighten, your lungs seizing in your chest. There’s no way you can afford to fix this, and if there’s that much to fix it’ll probably take longer than a few days, and this means you’re going to have to call Chisaki and tell him that you’re going to take longer and you’re positive that this is going to get you on his bad side, and Shinsou is so fucking close to getting that promotion instead of you, and now, because you were a fucking idiot and drove out on a dangerous desert highway in the middle of the fucking night, your entire career might be ruined and what were you thinking? You could have just waited and avoided all of this, but you’re so impatient that you wanted to get the drive out of the way and now you’re going to blow all of your savings on this and maybe even lose your job, and you feel so fucking worthless.

“Shit, are you—why are you crying?”

You put a hand to your face and feel just a few tears that you hadn’t even realized were there. A panic response. Your face is hot and cold and stinging. You still can’t calm your breathing and you think you’re going to have a full-on anxiety attack, so you close your eyes for a moment and ground yourself, digging your nails into your palms to feel something other than the buzzing sensation of worry and stress and fear. You can’t believe this is happening in front of another person—you feel like a child.

Bakugou looks uncomfortable, but his brows draw in something that would look like concern on a kinder face but really only serves to make him look more frustrated. He walks over and stands in front of you, awkward, like he wants to help but doesn’t know how. He smells like sweat and grease and under that, weirdly enough, something sweet like caramel. “We can work something out if you’re gonna take it that bad. Just—stop looking like that.”

Jaw clenched, you wipe the few tears away with your sleeve and shake your head. Steady your breathing. Keep your eyes trained on one of his dirty hi-tops, counting the lines of stitching on the nose of the shoe, until you feel like you can look him in the eye again. “I have a lot riding on being able to get to Taos.”

“Taos?” He narrows his eyes, frowning a little. “The fuck do you need to go there for? It’s barely bigger than Musutafu.”

“I just need to get there as soon as possible or my boss is going to be pissed.” You think of the way you’ve seen Chisaki yell at interns that got his coffee order wrong. This is much bigger than a coffee order, and you also have much more responsibility than an intern. You clench your teeth again, trying to choke down the fresh wave of anxiety the builds in your throat. Facing Chisaki is going to be worse than anything. He’s going to kill you. Or fire you. You’d almost prefer the former.

Bakugou sighs, looking between you and the car. He runs a tired hand through his hair, and even though it sounds like the last thing he would ever want to do, he says, “Let me get you a beer.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re sitting behind the garage in a Tommy Bahama beach chair with a San Miguel in your hand, the cold bottle a balm against the fading heat of day. Bakugou is in a matching chair next to you, sipping on his own drink, and you sit together, A Tribe Called Quest playing in the garage behind you and filling the silence.

The shop floor of the garage has those large vertical doors on either side, so you can see through it, past the still and quiet cars, out onto the highway. Civilization, or something like it, across the street in those rows of two-story buildings. On this side of the shop, you can see where the edge of a few residential blocks of Musutafu meet the desert, and further than that, where the desert melts into forest. The trees closest to the edge are withered, shrunken things, probably stunted by a lack of water and the unobstructed sunlight, and you’re brutally reminded of how cruel the earth can be.

You’ve always been a little scared of the desert. It can be beautiful, sometimes, but most of the time it’s frightening. Lurking. Like a beast on the edge of your peripherals, always watching and waiting. You could walk out into this wasteland and never be found. Your bones could sink into the ground and rest there, untouched and sand-bleached, forever.

“Why’d you move out here?” you ask, even though Bakugou has been consistently refusing to acknowledge your presence after he made sure you were situated with your chair and your beer.

He shrugs. “Dunno.”

“You’re a great conversationalist.”

“Maybe I don’t want to have a conversation.” He sips his beer and you watch a bead of condensation trail down his arm. He put on a shirt before joining you out here, thank fucking god, but he’s still dirty from working on the cars in his shop and it’s almost entrancing to you—not the dirtiness, but how it came about. The obvious effort he puts into something he’s good at.

You wonder how old he is. If he owns the shop or if he just works here. There’s a lot of things you want to ask him, but he’s the least friendly man in Musutafu, so your chances of getting those questions answered are pretty fucking slim. “Okay, how about this? Question for a question. You ask me something and I’ll answer totally honest as long as you do the same.”

He glances at you, just for a second, red eyes made darker by the lack of sun. The night has settled comfortably on the horizon now, and everything about Bakugou has become a little more intimidating. He seems bigger in the darkness. His shadows are elongated in the most terrible ways. “Why the fuck would I want to know anything about you?”

Yeah. That’s what you should’ve expected. “Never mind.” You take a long swig of your beer. It tastes like sand, but that might be the desert burning itself into every single one of your senses. Just to take a final dig at him, you say, “Bet you’d have nothing interesting to tell me anyway.”

You’re going to finish your beer and leave. You’re not sure why you stayed this long—maybe it was the fact that his offer of a drink seemed like a kindness he doesn’t often show. You don’t think he’s kind by nature, but he at least didn’t laugh at you when you cried a little earlier. He has a heart, even if it’s small and shriveled and almost completely devoid of empathy.

Just as you’re downing the dregs of the San Miguel, he says, “Fine. Tell me what’s in Taos.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha x reader #HOPEFULLY soon i will be posting the living is hard #we are just having a Busy Time over here #i hope these fragments tide u over lmao sorry they are not super polished #fics

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hansolmates · 4 years

Text

jeongguk; a royal exchange (02)

feat. the rom-com college!jeongguk x princess!reader au no one asked for

she’s the man!au where the princess impersonates her brother yoongi in order to finish his degree on time while yoongi is thrusted into princely duties. jeongguk is in the mess purely through room arrangement.

notes: p.2 is a straight up roll of pure crack and fluff. lil sexy for like .2 seconds. super self indulgent and inspired by the princess diaries. princess is stressed the whole time and we live to see her suffer

w.c: 7.1k

01, 02

“I’m sure this is probably the hundredth time you’ve heard since you’ve landed, but welcome to Illyria! The palace welcomes you to your new home away from home.”

“Ho-ly,” Jeongguk slaps a hand in front of Taehyung’s offending tongue, in case swearing is forbidden on royal territory. Wouldn’t want their scholarships taken away over Taehyung’s potty mouth.

“Excuse me, Mr. Hoseok, sir?” an exchange student from a university in New Zealand (yet Korean-born, ironically) pipes up, “why does the infrastructure of the building look like that?”

The student is referring to the ravines of gold metal that stream the walls of the palace. While the architecture is classic, the sheen of the metal definitely gives it an air of regality.

“Good question, Namjoon. The castle is wired and designed after our main export, Illyrium. The element was discovered in the early 1850s in what is now the ruins of Oros,” Hoseok quips brightly, patting the stone affectionately. “It has a conductivity percentage of 106% percent, more than silver. It is also quite durable.”

Namjoon’s deep laugh echoes throughout the pavilion, “I was just asking because it makes the castle so beautiful. Thank you.”

Jeongguk takes the time to snap more pictures of the castle, switching between his Sony and his phone. He zooms in on a low balcony overlooking the terrace they landed from. A figure rolls into his shot, stumbling barefoot with a ruby silk robe swishing between steps. You’re tired, sleep-laden as you clutch a snow white mug between your two hands, leaning your elbows against the metal bearing. You’re staring at nothing and everything, glazed over your backyard that seems to stretch on for eons.

“You’re right,” Jeongguk marvels at your visage between his lens, “absolutely beautiful.”

“Can I please get a better assignment, Jimin?”

“Your highness,” Jimin frowns, following after you, “you love teaching the exchange students, what has changed?”

“Exactly, Jimin,” you sigh, stopping in the middle of the hallway. Jimin’s nose nearly bumps into yours, “nothing has changed. I teach students every quarter, the same subjects every time. It’s not to say that I don’t love teaching,” you exhale, blowing into Jimin’s honeycomb bangs, “but can’t I have a more challenging assignment? Conversing with dignitaries, renovating the town square, I’ll even do culinary!”

Your poor secretary squeaks, pushing up his rose gold iPad to carve some distance between you two. “You-you know those jobs aren’t suitable for a Princess,” Jimin cuts himself off once he sees your eyes soften in defeat, “b-but! I’ll see if Hoseok would be willing to take on another class? And maybe we could arrange a presentation to the King in regards to your proposals?”

“Right,” you smile sadly, folding your arms and stretching the tight blazer your mother forced you in, “as if another Google Slideshow will impress him.”

Jimin squeezes your shoulder, as if he could tell you all the things he could never say through body language. “Showtime’s in two minutes, your highness.”

You nod, making haste to the large double doors that lead to the main living room. Normally, the scholarship program’s presentation is done in the throne room, a big show of bravado and an ego booster to your family. However, this particular class is entirely post-grad and under ten students, so you figure they were placed in a more intimate area for the sake of comfort.

Jimin pulls a lint roller out of nowhere, careful to catch every bit of dust that dares meet your presence. You tug uncomfortably at your collar, and give the signal to the door bearer. You fight the urge to flinch at the usual bombastic announcement.

“Introducing, the Princess of Illyria!”

The students and staff are bowing when you enter, and you send a look to Yoongi, who only offers you a lazy smirk. It’s a look you’ve feared since childhood, an explicit tell that he knows something you don’t. Nevertheless, you tack on a smile, standing in front of the ten students who are still dutifully lowered. You have to hand it to them, the undergrads would already be turning heads to get a peek at the princess.

“You may rise,” you voice floats. As mother always said, your voice must replicate a dandelion seed, bouncing in the wind.

The student directly in front of you elevates, a pair of doe eyes taking his sweet time to appreciate the view.

Jeon Jeongguk gives you a lazy smirk, mirroring your brother’s. The smile evaporates from your face, taking in the handsome man that you lived with for two months over two years ago. His eyes have certainly not lost their spark, but his hair is trimmed and showing off his forehead. A Sony camera wraps around his neck, held tightly by a strong pair of hands. He’s even dressed brightly, wearing a navy blazer over a plain white tee and a pair of dark jeans. Something twinges in your heart when you see that a familiar pair of black combat boots remain.

Jeongguk is the first to break eye contact, deciding to at least pretend to care about Hoseok’s presentation on the flatscreen. An overplayed video about Illyria’s history drones on, while Hoseok and Jimin are exchanging schedules in between. You’re sure that Jimin is passing on your word about choosing not to teach this quarter, and now it’s personal.

This urges the students to take seats on the couches, while staff floats around with various pastries and refreshments.

Your family takes their respective seats, and you fight the urge to pinch Yoongi as you hiss, “You knew about this?”

“Surprise,” Yoongi sing-songs, munching on a linzer cookie. “I handpicked all the students.”

“Couldn’t give your sister a heads up?” you snap hotly, making sure no one was looking as you pop a whole cream puff in your mouth.

“Sorry,” Yoongi leans over the shell of your ear, “Your hot ex-roommate is here, just wanted to let you know before you eat the dessert table.”

You mouth a fuck you, taking a stab at him under the table with your heeled foot.

After Yoongi’s not-so-subtle reveal of each other’s identities in a crowded Chinese restaurant two years ago, you’ve since cut off all contact with Jeon Jeongguk as you resumed your life as Princess of Illyria. Simultaneously shocked, but not surprised due to the obvious hints of suspicion, Jeongguk had forgiven your lie and allowed you to leave in good spirits. You remember leaving him at the front door of your dorm, hugging you warmly and bidding you safe travels.

It confused you, because it would've been easier to leave if Jeongguk had gotten angry at the complete breach of trust and kicked you out.

Hoseok is now presenting a slideshow of the intended schedule and itinerary for all students. You’re now glaring at the back of Jeongguk’s head, trying your damn hardest not to shove three brownies in your mouth in the presence of guests. Your tiny dessert spoon picks pathetically at the measly crumbs, and Jimin is urging you to smile from his position opposite you.

“And as always, our lovely princess will be conducting our class on Modern Illyrian Anthropology and will be organizing your field studies!” Hoseok practically shouts across the room, where you’re sitting wide-eyed with your family. You feel Yoongi reach over to dab the crumbs off your lips, enjoying your suffering.

You shoot a look at Jimin who was supposed to take care of things, and he gives you a pained expression that reads don’t fire me.

With a tight-lipped smile and feigning ignorance to Jeongguk’s interest in you teaching, you reply to the expectant students, “It’s always a pleasure to teach, I promise to not bore you with Illyrian history, that’s Hoseok’s job.”

“Hey!” he scrunches his nose, then turns to the students who are hiding their giggles, “Better get on her good side if you want a nice field assignment.” he warns good-naturedly, giving you a mock glare.

You suppose giving Jeongguk a field assignment far, far away from the castle.

After the long-winded presentation and a handful of brochures, the royal family is escorted out to retire for the day. As the youngest in the family you're the last one to leave.

Out the doorway you hear Taehyung utter, "That's her? What a babe!"

As to not arouse suspicion, it takes longer than anticipated to get a private moment with Jeongguk. No one but Taehyung and Jimin know of your circumstances, and it is to remain that way due to the fact that you and Yoongi committed fraud, royal or not.

Jeongguk is a quiet student, surprisingly. Choosing a seat by the window, he spends most of your classes doodling and looking out the pavilion. As stimulating as Namjoon and Irene’s questions are, you’re a little disheartened at the fact that Jeongguk has made little effort to talk to you, even if it’s as impersonal as classwork or office hours.

Today Hoseok’s teaching, and that gives you ample time to work out where you want to assign the students for field study. You’ve shaken off Jimin for now, and you’re currently roaming the halls with your phone, checking off your schedule.

Called the Museum of Modern Illyrian Art for Namjoon … check.

Sent staff to the villa in prep for the kiddies’ weekend getaway … check.

Sent e-vites and physicals to the Genovian royals … next.

Find a quiet corner to stress cry before 2:30—

A hand flies out of nowhere, grabbing your waist roughly and throwing you in a small room. The hand clasped over your mouth swallows your scream as the door shuts tight.

The captor turns on the singular lightbulb, grinning at you like a madman. “Hey Princess—what the fuck!”

You grimace, putting down your switchblade that was dangerously close to Jungkook’s jugular. “What the hell, Jeongguk! I could’ve killed you!”

“Dang, princesses are something else nowadays. Where on your body are you hiding knives?” Jeongguk marvels as if he wasn’t ten seconds away from being dead!Guk, patting down your lavender pantsuit in a way that’s highly inappropriate. “What are you, Ty Lee?”

“Self-defense secret,” and under your breath you add, “and Mai’s the one who hides knives. Ty Lee’s the acrobat.”

The grin easily returns to the tall boy’s face, burnt eyes shining against the naked bulb. This is the most emotion you’ve got out of him since classes started, and it’s doing nothing to ease the butterflies in your stomach. “So, come here often?”

“To the storage closet?” you snort, “not particularly.”

“And where’s a place I can go that you do come often?”

“My office hours,” you deadpan, “in which you haven’t visited, by the way. As a friend and as a teacher, I’m insulted.”

A low whine erupts from his throat, and he leans against the shelves, long arms spread across the three-ply toilet paper. “But your little secretary’s always there. It’s awkward when we’re not alone. I don't know if I should act like a friend or a student. Speaking of, where is he?”

“Ah, Jimin’s getting Starbucks.”

“Lit, can you tell him to pick me up a pink drink?”

“No,” but you send a text to Jimin anyway. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“I’m supposed to be coming back from the bathroom,” he air-quotes, “AKA, running around the palace until I can corner you.”

You sigh, fiddling with the hem of your blazer.

“Are you annoyed at me?” and for a second, Jungkook’s eyes betray a hint of vulnerability. “Am I being too forward? Or do you not want to catch up? I don’t know, I figured you’d be excited to see me but you’ve just been so busy.”

“Jeongguk,” you put a hand on his shoulder, ceasing the rambling. He opens his mouth to add more, but you squeeze his bicep. “I’m not annoyed at you. I’m annoyed at the situation. I’ve missed you,” you offer him a shy smile, and he returns a small, hopeful one in return, “but you’re right, it’s been really busy with the usual duties and I’ve been a little on edge with keeping things together without letting any secrets out.”

You’re also confused as to why you’re still harboring feelings for him, but that’s another secret you keep to yourself.

“Well, your duty is doo-dy.” Jungkook huffs, but is placated by your confession. “Don’t worry Princess, I’ll think of something.”

A knock startles the both of you, and Jeongguk squeaks, brandishing a plunger in defense. With a dainty finger, you push the plumbing tool back to the ground, as the knockings did not stop.

“Ohmygod—am I going to be beheaded for kidnapping the Princess?” Jeongguk panics and checks his phone, realizing his bathroom break turned into a straight up game of hooky. “Do you guys still behead? I mean if you’re pulling out knives from who knows where—”

“Guk, relax,” recognizing it immediately as a code between you and your brother, you swing the supply closet open.

Yoongi looks between the two of you, gauging the situation. When he notices that no, you two did not just romp between the 3-ply and were in fact only talking, he huffs. “Losers,” he mutters under his breath, hiding a grin as he leaves you two to splutter.

It’s already well over twenty minutes past your class time, but Taehyung just wouldn’t shut up.

You can’t blame him, he’s thrilled that you managed to snag him a field study with your personal couture designer. He’s lit up like a good boy on Christmas eve, getting his present early. He’s gushing about how excited he is to use authentic Swarovski crystals and rub noses with the fancy fabrics.

“I’ll make you the perfect dress for the upcoming gala, Your Highness.” Taehyung’s vibrating in a manner you never imagined on a human before.

“Thank you,” you reply awkwardly, “I’m sorry, but what gala are you referring to?”

He shrugs, “I’m sure there’s a gala you have to go to sometime. I’ve just always wanted to say that, makes me feel special.”

“Tae,” Jeongguk is sitting on your desk, heels bumping into the mahogany. With a stiff jerk of his head, Tae’s lips morph into an ‘O’ and he finally gets the hint, bowing to you and scurrying off.

“Y’know, his fashion’s kind of eccentric.” he nods over to the excessive fur lining on Taehyung’s slippers, “I’d make sure your designer keeps a close eye on him.”

“And what do I owe the pleasure of your presence,” you click, “twenty minutes after class?”

Jeongguk has the audacity to roll his eyes, rolling his head back to crack out the stiffness. “The chamber choir, really?” he exhales, dropping the itinerary you spent the better half of your nights preparing.

You raise your eyebrows, “What? It pertains to your major.”

“For the past six years all I've done is eat, sleep, and breathe music,” he says, and you’re suddenly reminded that you had a glimpse of that version of Jeongguk two years ago. A slave to the music, as much as he loved the subject, it sometimes felt like a tether that weaved far too deeply under his skin. “Can’t my field assignment be something different? More eclectic?”

“Do you have anything in mind?”

“In fact, I do.” Jeongguk lolls his head to the side, chestnut bangs falling softly. “For my field study, I want to shadow the Princess’ duties.”

You slam your hands down, standing up so you’re nearly nose-to-nose with the young man. “Are you crazy? Do you want Yoongi and I to get caught?”

“Listen, I’ve thought about it all throughout class—”

“—what? You didn’t listen to my lecture?—”

“—and today in class you mentioned that you graduated with a Master’s in Public Affairs, because in fact I always listen to you,” Jeongguk presses a finger to your lips when you try to cut him off, “and lo and behold, one of my minors was in public affairs! What better way to get more experience in the business when I have the master right in front of me?”

“I don’t know, Guk,” you try, mulling through all the possible situations and horrors that could occur because of it.

“Princess, we’re killing two birds with one stone!” Jeongguk pleads, giving you the puppy eyes, “not only do I get a far better field study assignment, but it’s far better because I get to spend more time with you!”

You hate how absolutely weak you’ve become under his gaze. In the span of less than three weeks, Jeon Jeongguk has re-entered your life like he never left. He wanted to spend time with you. The selfish part of your brain says you wish the same. Who are you to deny such a simple desire?

“Fine,” you spit out, putting up a front and pretending to be annoyed, “but you better not get all huffy around Jimin.”

He shrugs, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “Worth it.”

“You’re different,” Jeongguk states bluntly, actively ignoring the way Jimin tries to push between you two. Jeongguk continues to press into your shoulder as you weave through the gardens. You’re picking flowers for a specific theme arrangement and pattern. A diplomat from Spain is coming and he is bringing her young daughter. You've heard that she’s recently taken in interest in constructing flower crowns.

“Well, two years can do that to a person,” you reply airily, dropping a tiger lily in the wicker basket Jeongguk insisted on carrying.

Having Jeongguk follow you around like a duckling is fun, to be frank. Jimin is no longer hyper-focused on you, forcing him to spread his attention between you and your overly-attentive student. Jeongguk can’t attend every single one of your events because some of the information’s sensitive, but when he does it makes your job feel less of a job and more like a fun group project.

Like when you and Jeongguk would stumble in the farmer’s market every Sunday morning, hungover but aching to fill your bellies. You two were walking zombies, forcing yourselves out of bed to feed yourselves. But it was always fun because you were together, whenever it was Jeongguk’s turn to pay, you’d sneak in more KitKats for yourself. Whenever it was your turn, Jeongguk would smuggle more cartons of banana milk.

“No, no. It’s not that,” your friend admonishes instantly, “your personality’s still the same, even though it was Yoongi-fied. Your heart hasn’t changed,” you turn your head sharply towards a field of carnations, concealing your flush. “I mean, you’re more confident.”

“In other words,” Jimin pipes, looking up from his iPad, “an air of regality.”

You scoff, putting a hand on your hip and looking expectantly at the two boys. “You’ve changed too, Guk,” you reason, shaking your head. “Old Jeongguk wouldn’t be wearing white dress shirts and shoving princesses in closets.”

“You shoved the princess in a closet—!” Jimin starts, having half a mind to cancel the field study all together.

“Well, Old Jeongguk didn’t have a chance to really get to know you,” Jeongguk twirls a baby’s breath between his fingers, tucking it in-between your ear. “That’s New Jeongguk’s job.”

“So, you’re the Princess’ head of security,” Jeongguk tilts his head to look up at the slightly taller man, his visage covered by a pair of shades. The bodyguard is never really present, only when citizens enter the castle or you’re out of town. “You know you’re inside, right?”

The man only slightly inclines his head to acknowledge Jeongguk’s prodding. Hmph, he looks like a talker.

“If you’re her head of security,” Jeongguk leans closer, trying to avoid any further attention to his conversation, “do you know where she hides her knives? Because sometimes she wears those tight pencil skirts and I can’t help but wonder—”

“That’s classified.”

“Alright, where do you hide your knives—”

“Also classified.”

“Jeongguk,” you relent, sliding your footrest next to your throne, “leave Seokjin alone and come here, please.”

You can’t blame him. It’s always been a pastime of yours to ruffle Seokjin’s feathers, but you must admit that meeting with citizens is a long and frankly, boring process. The routine is fairly simple, the citizen bows and offers something for the table, and in return you lend your ear and offer assistance if possible.

“For your table, Your Highness,” the next citizen bows, carrying a foil-lined tray filled with fresh baked bread.

“Smells delicious, Bertrand.” you beam, ripping open the tin to snatch a hot slice off the top. Rosemary and thyme are egg washed atop the brown bread, and you proffer a piece to Jeongguk, as you could imagine the poor guy is as antsy as ever. “And may I introduce you to my student, Jeon Jeongguk? He’s studying my diplomacy for his field study.”

Bertrand tips his head, “Lucky you, she’s a true leader.”

Jeongguk nods shyly, nibbling on the crust. “Truly an honor.”

Jeongguk offers to bring the gift to the table with the other offerings across the room, and you nod, conversing lightly with Bertrand. His worries are simple enough, he feels pressured by a catering request from an Illyrian Duke, and wishes to serve a party fit for a royal. In resolution, you offer to send a palace chocolatier and chef to help with the preparations. Jeongguk returns to his seat next to yours just as Bertrand leaves. He pulls up his iPad, feigning notes that he should be writing while observing you.

The next citizen hobbles over, holding a large ivory wicker basket covered by a beige tarp. “For your table, Your Highness,” they bow, “I hope you like omelets.”

If you weren’t on the throne with an audience of one-hundred, you’d be delivering a very confused expression, coupled with panic. “May I?” you inquire, forcing a smile as you lift open the tarp.

In the basket there are two small jars of marmalade, and one huge chicken sitting fat and proud that its skin overflows between the gaps of the wicker. Its head twitches in your direction, barely turning because its neck is hugely bulbous with excess weight. Its beady little eyes mock you. It smells fear.

“Her name’s Dixie,” the citizen supplied helpfully.

“Holy shit,” Jeongguk whispers next to you, but not soft enough for it to not echo in the throne room, “Dixie, you are a thick chick.”

“Jeongguk!” you exclaim, which causes the whole room to reverb at your shrill cry.

Of course the chicken has to freak out, flapping its wings and freeing itself from the confines of its package. The animal dives for you, and you press yourself as much as you can against the throne. Jeongguk knows no bounds, throwing himself in front of you to catch the large bird. Feathers weave unto his umber tresses as the bird meets gravity, Jeongguk unable to calm down Dixie.

It’s more or less a wild goose chase (chicken chase?) after that, Jeongguk follows Dixie down the platform and around the throne room. The citizens and staff are clutching their stomachs in laughter, endeared by the young man following the chicken. Jimin is laughing and slapping Seokjin’s shoulder, his face breaking in an unabashed smile.

And you can’t help but laugh along with them, trying to smother your giggles by covering your face with a silk fan. You peek over the thin fabric to see Jeongguk looking especially concentrated on his mission. It wasn’t like the chicken was going to escape the throne room because the doors are closed, but surely it will be a workout as Dixie’s a trooper and isn’t going down without a fight.

“Don’t worry Princess, I got this!” Jeongguk’s voice reassures you from the far edge of the throne room. He’s taken a break, but the glint in his eyes show he’s committed to catching Dixie as she scuttles in circles.

He flashes you a breathtaking smile, all gums and pearly whites as he runs a hand through his wavy locks. Your smile falls slightly, and you clutch your fan tighter at the realization. Oh, you are besotted.

“Hoseok’s had me on my back about teaching a full class before your weekend getaway but I’ve long decided,” you lift your chin haughtily in a way only princesses do, jutting out your lip in confirmation, “that you should enjoy the time you have here. Summer’s almost over. You all should get a headstart on your packing so you can get to the beach early.”

Your class erupts into hoots and hollers, the Powerpoint presentation about the minerals of Illyria long abandoned. Two months have already passed, and in a couple weeks they’ll be saying their goodbyes. A twinge of sadness hits you as you relish in your students’ happy smiles. As each semester passes, each group leaves something behind you’ll never forget. This summer, as much as you taught them, you’ve learned a lot from them as well.

Students are already starting to pack up, but Namjoon’s butt is firmly planted in his seat, raising his hand. “Sorry, I have a question.”

You smile goodnaturedly, already used to his usual spiel. “I can email you the Powerpoint and we can go over whatever you want on Monday.”

“Ah, no. I was wondering if you were coming with us,” Namjoon mutters sheepishly.

You’re surprised, even moreso when Irene and Yerin insist that you should go. “Yes, you have to go!” Yerin bounces in her seat.

“Oh,” you blush, “I can’t. I don’t normally go on these things, wouldn’t it be weird to have your teacher at your party?”

“Hell no!” Yerin gasps shamelessly. It’s one thing you liked about this class, after class is over, they always managed to make you feel normal. Maybe it’s the closeness in age and education, but they remind you so often that you’re still young. After all, they weren’t Illyrian, and while outside of class they put on the whole shebang for you, it didn’t take long for them to get comfortable around you. “We can show you what real college life is like! We can roast barbeque on the beach and tell scary stories!”

Taehyung snorts, already halfway out the door, “I’m sure the Princess doesn’t wanna see you shitfaced in the ocean.”

You placate Yerin with a small smile, “I have to work after this, but I’ll see what I can do.”

Namjoon walks up to your desk as the rest of the students file out. He runs the spine of his journal along your desk, “Prince Yoongi and Hoseok will be there too, if it makes you feel any better. Hope you can come.”

The room is soon vacated, leaving you and your Star Student alone.

“‘I’ll see what I can do’, really?” Jeongguk rolls his eyes, plopping himself atop your desk. Your eyes snap to the way the dark denim cords around his thighs, and you make a deal of slamming your laptop shut. “C’mon, of course you wanna come. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Not really,” you admit. “I used to really like spending the weekend at the villa. I loved getting to know each class and know what it feels like to be like you guys,” you downplay yourself, stuffing books and electronics in your briefcase. “But ever since we roomed together two years ago, I can’t bring myself to go anymore. It’s not the same when you’ve actually had a taste of it.”

Jeongguk’s eyes soften at your confession. You could feel that he wasn’t prepared for your honesty, and you don’t blame him. He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I leave in two weeks, you know.”

“I know.”

“Can you at least try to come, for me?”

You lift your head up to reach his eyes, looking equal parts nervous and vulnerable. You’re suddenly thrusted back to two years ago, cornered in your dorm room where Jeongguk was upset at the thought of hurting him, lying to him. You didn’t want to hurt him, or yourself.

But as Jeongguk’s large hand reaches across the desk to your smaller one, you don’t think to pull away.

“Your Highness!” Jimin interrupts the two of you, and Jeongguk snatches his hand back with a glare. Jimin ignores him, looking breathless as he leans against the door of your classroom. “Your 3 o’clock is ready. We have to hurry if we want to get through the crowd.”

With one last look, Jeongguk excuses himself, brushing past Jimin with a gruff “Bye, Princess.”

“Today’s not your day to meet with citizens,” Yoongi mumbles next to you, looking disapprovingly at the way you wait for the next citizen to approach you.

Seokjin holds the crowd off as you converse with your brother, who looks ready to leave to the villa. He’s dressed in a plain white t-shirt, foam slides and baggy slacks. If it wasn’t for the family crest proudly presented on his right breast pocket, he could easily be mistaken as the average citizen. “Mother insisted,” you reply shortly, growing more irritated by the second.

“Really?” his brows disappear under his bangs, “because from the way she said it, you were looking for work.”

Caught, you turn away from his watchful gaze. “I have a problem, okay?” you say stiffly, “I needed a distraction.”

“Alright,” Yoongi shrugs, leaning close to your ear to murmur, “where’s the dead body?”

You slap his arm, “Yoongi! I didn’t kill anybody!”

“At this rate, it looks like you’re wasting yourself away.” Yoongi replies bluntly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “C’mon, Loverboy was all pouty in my room not too long ago. Don’t disappoint him.”

With that, Yoongi turns on his heel and walks off. Citizens bow at him like dominos as he exits, your break definitively over.

Whatever is blooming between you and Jeongguk, is and never will be fair to the both of you. In your eyes Jeongguk isn’t the type to settle, not relationship-wise, but life-wise. He wanted to grow and cultivate his art, and taste freedom every step of the journey.

You weren’t freedom or growth, and you could only hope he realizes that before you become too selfish.

“Your Highness?” you break out of your reverie when a young woman your age looks at you shyly, “My name is Wendy. I didn’t get anything for the table but, I got you a caramel macchiato.”

She brandishes a venti iced caramel macchiato, condensation dripping from her fingers. Your face lights up, accepting the caffeinated drink. “I really needed this!” you perk up immediately, taking a sip and letting the cool flavor soothe your tastebuds. “Thank you, Wendy. What is it that you request?”

“Advice,” she admits, a blush creeping from her neck. She looks down at her work boots, caked in grime. “I’m an engineer who works in manufacturing Illryian technology.”

“We are eternally grateful for your service to this country,” you reply evenly. Engineers are highly revered in your country, as your economy is dependent on their brilliant minds.

“But I have fallen in love with a man who is under my station, and wishes to find work elsewhere,” she bites her lip, her eyes growing glassy. “I haven’t told him my feelings yet, however I’m also worried for my family who finds men like him to be unworthy of an engineer like myself.”

“Ah, bound by duty and expectation.” you reply grimly, “a rock and a hard place, huh?”

“Yes, forgive me for my crassness. I felt as if you would understand my predicament.”

Putting your drink down, you reach for her hand. Oil and dirt cake her fingers, and she attempts to pull away as to not soil you, but you hold on tighter. “Tell him how you feel, Wendy.” you whisper, a conversation so intimate it’s only proper it be for her ears and her ears only. “Whether he leaves or not after you tell him is his decision. However, I assure you it will hurt far more if you don’t give yourself a chance.”

Her voice cracks, “But what if it doesn’t work out?”

You start to feel a little teary at her candor, and you run a thumb over her palm. “Then you’re one heartbreak closer to happiness. Nevertheless, you are a strong, intelligent, beautiful woman. Don’t let your fears reject that.”

Wendy finds the strength to squeeze your hand, and you belatedly realize that if this piece of advice was personified, it’d be slapping the shit out of you.

“You came!”

Hopped up on bitter caffeine and potential regrets, you stand in the living room well past midnight, party in full swing. Jimin trails behind you sans iPad, feeling lighter in a pair of trunks and a black tank. A playlist of Namjoon’s organizing is blasting from the surround sound, coupled with the flatscreen television projecting an intense lap of MarioKart. Irene and Taehyung are shoulder to shoulder, concentrating on getting that Mushroom Cup. The sliding doors that lead from your villa to the beach are cracked open, wide enough to hear the conversations the other students are exchanging.

It was always nice to have your villa occupied like this. Less empty, more familial.

Yerin is the first to greet you, throwing her arms around you and smelling like seasalt and vodka. She’s drenching your clothes, clad in a yellow polka-dot one-piece. “This weekend’s gonna be killer,” she whispers in your ear, causing the hairs on your neck to rise. For a petite thing, she really wastes no time cutting to the chase.

You detach yourself, holding up a bag of pastries. “Snagged some munchies for your inevitable drunk crash,” you smirk, placing the container on the kitchen island.

Yerin gapes, red tinted lips mouthing an ‘o’ at your language. “You’ve been hidin’ out on us, haven’t you Princess?” Yerin then brushes past you, ready to get her fingers on the confections. You’re over her shoulder, pointing out both Illrian delicacies and pastries she’s familiar with.

After Irene snags the Mushroom Cup they’re joining you at the island, lips coated in powdered sugar and jam. The girls laugh when some powdered sugar gets into Taehyung’s hair, Irene patting him a little too hard on his bangs.

“You’re here!”

You whip around to see Jeongguk sliding the glass doors hurriedly, bare feet slapping across the tiled floor to reach you. He’s dripping wet, ocean water rivering around his body. Your eyes can’t help but follow the flow of the cool liquid, finding purchase between the planes of his chest and honeyed abs, glowing from the heat.

Three years of your life were spent studying preparation and execution for war or nuclear threat. Unfortunately, at this very moment you feel way more prepared for war than Jeon Jeongguk standing in your villa, looking like that.

Instead of the usual pleasantries, you hold up a leather wallet. “You left this in the classroom,” you chide.

It’s a baldfaced lie. Somehow, Jeongguk’s wallet had conveniently ended up in your office between reams of paper. The bastard himself has the audacity to feign surprise, coral lips gaping in relief. “Wow, Princess. Totally not a ploy to get you to come here.”

“Right.”

“Give it here, I’ll drop it off in my room.”

“Wait, wait!” you hold up both your hands, centimeters away from Jeongguk’s pecs. You’re nearly eye level with them, and you force yourself to look up at his smug face. “You’re dripping wet on the tile! Your feet still have sand you heathen! Do not get our carpets dirty!” you hold the wallet to your chest protectively, “where’s your room?”

He tilts his head adorably, droplets flecking from his slicked back mane. “Third door on the right.” he doesn’t dare to argue with your sudden passion to keep your villa clean.

You nod, “go enjoy the water. I’ll be right out.” You don’t give him a chance to reply, kicking off your sandals as you reach the cosier part of the villa. Soft carpet meets your toes as you pad off to the guest bedrooms.

Jeongguk managed to snag the corner room, albeit smaller, it’s a single with a full mattress. You see his Superdry backpack open on the floor, its bottom worn with the white lining peeking through. Despite only arriving in the afternoon, his fresh scent is palpable. You drop the wallet on his desk, and you notice that his laptop’s still on.

The Macbook Pro glows confidently, his screensaver revealing a photograph of you on your balcony.

“Snooping around, Princess?”

You whip around, seeing Jeongguk appear fully clothed, running a towel over his hair. He is no longer dripping water or sand, but he still smelled like salt and fire. He nonchalantly closes the door behind him, taking a seat at the foot of his bed.

“You know it’s illegal to take unsolicited pictures of royalty, right?”

“And who should I answer to, hm? The Princess?” he teases, face blooming from the fluffy white towel.

You’re not upset about the picture, he knows that. But there you sit, slumped over his desk, looking forlornly at his picture of you.

“I’ve locked the door,” Jeongguk pipes up, looking at you worriedly. “Yoongi mentioned that the room’s are soundproof. He said you looked upset today. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

The room feels smaller, swallowing you whole. You’re tired from today’s events, both emotionally and physically. Jeongguk is having nothing of it, reaching between the two of you to pull the arms of the desk chair, wheeling you between his thighs.

“Jeongguk,” you start, “why weren’t you mad at me when you were right? Right about me hiding something from you.”

His brows furrow, “You made a sacrifice and protected your brother. Why would I be mad at that?” he says honestly, “sure, I was upset at first. Who wouldn’t be? But you did it out of love.”

You smile wanly, knowing that there wasn’t going to be a chance that he’d be upset at you. It was out of your devices. “I wanted you to be mad,” you admit, wringing your fingers between your skirt, “it would’ve made it easier to leave.”

“It would’ve, wouldn’t it?” he replies, his voice cotton soft. “After you left, Yoongi wouldn’t let me talk to you on the phone. Said you needed time. But I got him to tell me stories about you, stories that made me realize that I missed getting to know you.”

It’s then you feel the weight of today express itself onto your cheeks, the wetness dampening your skin. You feel his thumb brush away the tears.

“Tell me,” Jeongguk requests softly, “tell me what you really feel.”

You let your head collapse in his hands, relishing the warmth and comfort it brings. “I feel hurt. And confined.”

“More,” Jeongguk bids, his other hand squeezing your thigh, “let it out, Princess.”

You are a strong, intelligent, beautiful woman. Don’t let your fears reject that.

“I miss acting like fools at the grocery store, falling on top of each other half-asleep.” Everything tumbles out shamelessly, like a waterfall. “I hate how frustrated I am when you call me Princess, because while it is my title, it turns me on in the most devastating way when you say it.” you drop your head in the crook of his neck, embarrassed to see his reaction. “I want to laugh with you, hold you, I want you, so badly. But I want you to be happy, to make music and art, and travel the world to find your muse,” you shake your head, pushing yourself away from him. “I feel so stuck here, I can’t hold you back when you’re free and—”

“That’s enough bullshit,” and he’s kissing you, a clashing of teeth that has you sensitive and reeling. His hands grasp your cheeks, and you’re stumbling in your chair as the wheels make moves on their own. You squeak against his lips before you’re wheeled back to the bed. Hot hands pull you forward to teeter your body onto the bed, keeping you in place.

The man in question breaks apart, but close enough that his lips brush against yours when he speaks, “I’ve never kissed a princess before,” Jeongguk says wryly, cupping your cheek, “but if you make one more gripe about freedom and your stupid self-righteousness and I’ll stop.”

A pure, unprepared whine escapes your lips, shame be damned.

“You’re my muse,” he plants a kiss on your forehead, “I bothered Yoongi for weeks, working tooth and nail for that scholarship,” a kiss on both your nose, “you’re what it means to feel free.”

And that’s all it takes for you to surge forward, toppling over him until he’s pushed against the headboard. Capturing your lips with his, you catch droplets of saltwater and a flavor that’s so distinctly Jeongguk, feeling high off the taste.

Your skirt rides to your waist, your underwear damp from the ocean and arousal. You straddle him, feeling so unbounded and free as Jeongguk lets you do what you’ve both wanted to do. With a roll of your hips Jeongguk grunts, forehead pressed to yours. “Princess,” he rasps, meeting your thrusts, “we have until Christmas to do this, no need to rush.”

Wait, Christmas?

Jeongguk grins, kissing away your surprise. For now, you’ll ignore the burn between your thighs. “Before we left today, Yoongi and I asked the King, your father, if he would consider extending my scholarship for a full semester. I mentioned that Yoongi and I had some unfinished projects from undergrad,” he pecks your lips, “and he’s going to help me produce a full album for my final thesis.”

“That’s amazing!” you cheer, pulling him into a hug. “I’m so proud of the two of you!”

“Mhm,” he nuzzles your neck, pressing featherlight kisses to your skin, “can’t produce anything without my muse around, so I’d say Illyria is the perfect location.”

Your fingers thread into his damp locks, and you feel your heart swell with happiness. Here, under the gaze of the beautiful boy who wanted to offer you his heart and his world, you felt free.

extra.

It takes the strength of both your hands to pull Jeongguk in the storage closet, but it isn’t like he’s putting up a fight anyhow.

“Come here often?” you drawl, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Impressive,” he chuckles, “usually it takes you an hour to shake Jimin off ya. It’s only been thirty-five minutes.”

“I just wanted to show you something funny,” you pull up your Instagram, and play the featured video. While it was posted weeks ago, it started to pick up traction after Yoongi liked the post this morning. Jeongguk is dashing around the palace, sweating bullets and cooing “c’mon Dixie!” to the sprinting chicken in the throne room.

“You’re viral!” you giggle, “you put Illyria on the social media map!”

Under the lowlights, it’s still easy to see Jeongguk’s skin has gone placid. “If I ever hit it big, that shit better not haunt me,” he groans into your neck.

“Please,” you roll your eyes, “every famous person has a backstory. Aubrey Graham had Degrassi and the Yodeling Wal-Mart boy–”

“Are you really gonna compare your boyfriend to the Yodeling Wal-Mart kid? Tell me what you really came here for,” And like a teenager, Jeongguk reels it back in, winding his hands around your waist. He gives you bedroom eyes like it's a session of Seven Minutes in Heaven, “so, we’re gonna make out or what?”

#jungkook #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jeongguk #jungkook fluff #kpop #kpop fic #kpop fanfic #jjk #royal au #college au #bts x reader

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pept0-dismal · 4 years

Text

SFW and NSFW Tokoyami Fumikage x Reader Headcanons :) (female reader)

tokoyami is such an amazing and underrated character! he’s seriously one of my actual favs and he deserves some headcanons :)

(i feel like this song fits him so well for some odd reason)

SFW:

•it took ALL of the courage in the world for our amazing bird boi to ask you out. it was very simple and sweet. he approached you after class one day and asked if you wanted to go out to dinner with him, his face heated up and he looked at the floor as he asked. it completely took him by surprise when you said yes, and his heart fluttered at your smile, more than it usually did when he saw you. that night, he took you to a simple cafe, and made sure to pay for dinner, despite you insisting you pay for yourself. after that, he walked through the park with you, and there, he sat you down on a bench and asked if you wanted the two of you to be a thing. when you said yes, he felt himself shudder with happiness and put his hand on yours, staring deeply into your eyes. you two were about to share a romantic moment when dark shadow appeared and decided to loudly yell “SCORE! you finally got her, toko!” (tokoyami was incredibly embarrassed and you made it worse by laughing)

•tokoyami is incredibly insecure about not being able to kiss you due to his beak, and it eats away at him so much because he wants nothing more than to hold you in his arms and kiss you with all of his heart. instead, he will lightly nudge and nuzzle his beak against your cheek or neck as a replacement. you insist on kissing his beak when he’s feeling anxious or soft, and it makes him calm down a lot.

•continuing on from his insecurities about not being able to kiss you, he hugs you and holds your hand as much as he can. there are dates you like to have where it’s just the two of you snuggling up and watching a movie (usually something horror related or tim burton) or some sort of documentary.

•this boy has so many incredible and deep thoughts about you, so he spills them out into long, beautifully and carefully written love letters in gorgeous, swooping cursive handwriting. he puts his heart and soul into all of his works. not only that, he loves writing passionate and heartfelt poetry about how much you completely fill his mind and the light he sees in you and your smile. he’ll sit you down and read them to you, and these usually leave you in tears.

•surprisingly, tokoyami is a pretty good cook. it can be hard because while dark shadow can be helpful in the kitchen, he might throw something at you like an egg or some flour when tokoyami isn’t looking and then blame it on our favorite bird boy. tokoyami is great with traditional japanese meals, but also has a good hand at italian cuisine, too.

•SUCH A SYMPATHETIC BOYFRIEND WHEN YOU’RE ON YOUR PERIOD. he won’t hesitate to go out and buy supplies (even though dark shadow would tease him the whole time), and will be over at your dorm with a heating pad, snacks, and anything else you need as quickly as he can. he hates seeing you in pain, but will still stick by your side if your cramps are getting to the point where you’re crying or even throwing up.

•tokoyami has struggled with sleeping for ages, especially with dark shadow around to bug him. but, you always make an effort to sneak into his dorm at night and snuggle up with him so he can sleep through the night with you in his arms. he always gets better sleep with you around, and sometimes, as you’re falling asleep, you’ll hear him mutter to himself about how lucky he is to have you and that he adores you. once aizawa caught you sneaking out of his dorm, he lectured the both of you, but when you ensured that it was nothing sexual and that you were only there to help him sleep, he surprisingly eased up and just said not to get caught again. it actually made you crack up how at one point you came out of your boyfriend’s room and saw aizawa in the hall, and he immediately looked away as if he didn’t see you. (aizawa is incredibly supportive of your relationship if you couldn’t tell).

•tokoyami is very protective over you. if you and your lovely partner will be walking anywhere, you bet his fingers are intertwined with yours to make sure he doesn’t lose you.

•tokoyami is pretty smart, so he’ll always be there to help out with homework when you need it and you arrange study dates (though it might end early in cuddles, or, well... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )

•such a closeted cuddle bug. he’s incredibly touch starved, and cuddling just makes his entire day. even out in public, he’ll have an arm very lightly draped around your waist. alone, the two of you are practically inseparable. he likes being the big spoon, but will definitely be the little one if you’d like, or after an incident during a mission that he was nearly killed. he gets much more clingy after missions, especially if either of your lives are threatened. tokoyami also loves when you put an arm across his waist and lay your head on his chest, his arms around you. you always comment about how you can hear his heart beating faster when you’re in that position. when he’s feeling particularly soft, he might bury his face in your chest and put his arms around you. while watching movies or occasionally getting him to play video games, he’ll have you sit between his legs and hold you from behind, his beak nuzzled against your shoulder and neck.

•lots of pet names!!! his favorites for you are “princess,” “my queen,” “mi amor” (in reference to gomez addams, and always makes sure to nuzzle his beak against your hand as he says this), “love,” “my sweet,” “my phoenix,” and “angel.” he doesn’t mind being called pet names, but he definitely has a soft spot for you calling him “my king,” or “darling.”

NSFW:

•when you finally say that you’re ready to sleep with him, tokoyami freezes on the spot. he never thought you’d be willing to go far with him, but now, you bet he can barely contain his excitement (though he hides it well, as usual).

•your first time with him has a few bumps here and there, as well a few awkward instances, but the two of you are both able to pleasure the other person in the end. he’s an incredibly selfless and passionate lover, and it’s the same way in bed. he likes to draw out foreplay and let you feel good.

•the second tokoyami met you and realized he had feelings for you, you bet your ass dark shadow was the BIGGEST pain around him, especially at night. just has tokoyami could feel himself finally falling asleep, dark shadow would appear and quietly whisper incredibly lewd things about you to him, just completely taunting him. it would always be things like “i wonder if when (y/n) cums, her eyes stay open or they stay shut...” or “remember the way she was eating that lollipop today? imagine it as something else...” it ALWAYS makes tokoyami incredibly flustered (and hard), and it’s hard to look you in the eye the next day.

•speaking of, dark shadow can either enhance or ruin your sexy times with tokoyami. he might appear and make a dumb comment to throw off the mood, or he might reach around and wrap a hand around your throat and start rubbing your clit while you’re riding your boyfriend. dark shadow is quite the wild card.

•purple or red LED lights. that’s all i can say.

•going back to tokoyami’s insecurity again, he hates the fact that he can’t go down on you, especially because of how much he likes to focus the pleasure on you. instead, you VERY quickly discover how good he is with his fingers. he always makes sure to finger you before you two fuck, and he prides himself on how easily he can get you off. at one point, he had a lot of pent up aggression from an arguement with bakugou from earlier that really got under his skin, and he was much more aggressive than usual while fingering you and actually made you squirt all over his hand and arm. when he saw you do that, he accidentally came on the spot in his boxers and was an odd combination of incredibly aroused but also embarrassed by his actions. ever since then, he’s tried to make you squirt every time the two of you get together (and he usually succeeds in this).

•when it comes to receiving oral, tokoyami loves it. one of his favorite sights (and one that he’s admittedly fantasized about during a few tug sessions) was you on your knees in front of him, your mouth around him as you stared up at him. he lets you set the pace, but there are sometimes that he might thrust into your mouth and grip your hair tightly.

•between being an ass or a boobs guy, tokoyami throws that question for a loop and actually loves everything about you, but if he had to choose between the two, he’s a bit more of an ass guy. that doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate your chest at all. one thing to do to tease him is wear revealing or tight clothing, and he’ll be a blushing mess. he gets flustered when walking behind you, especially if you’re wearing jeans because he really can’t help but look. sometimes, to be a pain, you’ll wear something like a camisole or a tight button up and make sure to bend over his shoulder to help him out with some something while he’s sitting, only for him to turn and get a face full of titty.

•has a relatively moderate sex drive, despite his age and dark shadow being a pain at night. that definitely doesn’t mean he isn’t quick to get hard if you tease him. he can probably go at it once or twice a week, sometimes more depending on how high your sex drive is. if yours is a bit higher, he can try to match yours, but he might just end up fingering you instead of actual sex if you’re desperate.

•tokoyami has a few kinks in mind, and he gets flustered about them. he’s a dom-leaning switch, so he doesn’t mind being submissive to you occasionally, but those are rare moments, and you’ll usually have to ask for those times. he does have a thing for light bondage, like tying your wrists together with his belt or taking out some rope or handcuffs. it admittedly strokes his ego to see you tied up so he can do whatever he pleases. one that he really keeps secret is wax play, considering all of the many candles in his room. it always makes him feel hot and heavy as you squirm and let out whimpers and occasional squeaks as he pours the candle wax all over your chest, thighs, back, and ass. also, MAJOR praise kink (he enjoys praising you and vice versa). tell him how much you love his cock, and how great he’s making you feel. he’ll make sure to tell you that he loves the sight of you panting and moaning for him, how much he loves the sound of your voice saying his name, everything. lastly, he hates to admit it, but overstimulation is a big thing for him, especially with fingering you. if you have been needy and horny all day and bothering him, he’ll make sure that you’re gonna kinda regret bothering him as he did his homework. he’ll have you tied down and prop your legs open, then finger you until it nearly hurts to cum anymore. tokoyami actually bought a cheaper version of a hitachi wand just for moments like this, so he’ll have dark shadow hold it on your clit on a high setting while he goes to work on you. these are times where he doesn’t mind his quirk coming in to help, and actually smirks because dark shadow will relentlessly taunt you and your moans. it doesn’t matter how cramped his arm is, tokoyami will make sure that he gets just one more orgasm out of you before he’s satisfied.

•even though it’s mentioned earlier that tokoyami prefers to be dominant, one of his favorite positions is without a doubt having you in his lap as you ride him. he’ll let you set the pace (at first), but will eventually grow a bit unhinged and hold your hips still as he thrusts into you at his preferred pace, the two of you always looking each other in the eye. he also enjoys the simplicity of missionary. once again, you two can maintain eye contact and it’s a relatively easy position that isn’t too physically strenuous on either of you.

•aftercare is always sweet and loving. he cleans you up if needed (he usually has a condom on him, but if he doesn’t, he always makes sure not to cum inside you), then snuggles up with you, enjoying some peace and your presence. he whispers all sorts of kind things to you and let’s you relax. if you eventually fall asleep, he might stay awake for a bit longer and just take in the sight of you and how lucky he is to share such intimate times with you. he likes to think about your future together as he too eventually falls asleep.

#bnha headcanons #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #mha headcanons #mha x reader #mha tokoyami #tokoyami fukimage #mha fumikage #fumikage tokoyami #anime #my hero x reader #my hero academia

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thecozywhaleshark · 4 years

Text

Jack of All Trades (pt. 4)

Word Count: 4465

Warnings: SMUT. Swearing. Almost oral (f. receiving). Fingering. Escort!Tae. Virgin!Reader

Summary: The chapter where you allow the most annoyingly hot escort customer to take your virginity

The amount of times you had folded that business card... crumpled it, ripped it, thrown it in the trash... and taken it back out again made you madder than you ever thought you could be.

You didn't want to contemplate losing your virginity to the most arrogant hot head that came into your bar.

And yet...

No. Shut up. Don't even think about it.

Make a list. Pros and cons.

Pros: You get to claim that you lost your v-card to someone hot.

Cons: You will forever live with the knowledge that to lose your v-card you had to hire an escort.

You wince. That would be a blow to your ego.

But on the other hand... he did offer. So would it technically be hiring an escort if he offered to do it for free?

Still kinda insulting though.

You huff a breath, blowing some hair out of your face that had fallen out of your messy bun.

You mull it over as you get ready for work, tucking your polo into your favorite pair of high waisted jeans.

You're totally not wearing those because they make your butt look good. They are just a pair of jeans, which you grabbed from a pile. Not wearing them for someone to stare at. Would never do that.

Grabbing your apron, you leave your apartment and head to work. There is no way you're letting him into your pants tonight.

Arriving at work, you prayed for a miracle, something that wouldn’t make him come in tonight, but as you walked in it looked like God wasn’t going to grant you any favors tonight.

Tae was already sitting at his stool, smiling brightly as you took your place on the opposite side of the counter.

“Jagiya! My favorite girl. Can I get another?” He holds up his drink, clinking the ice inside it.

“Jesus Tae, give a girl a minute to clock in first.”

He checks his watch. “60. 59. 58. 57...”

You roll your eyes, grabbing a bottle of rum from behind you and placing it on the counter. “God you’re annoying.”

He grins. “But you love me.”

“You wish.”

“Aw, jagi. Don’t be that way.”

You lean forward on the counter, topping his rum and lowering your voice. “I will act any way I want towards the man who keeps trying to claim my virginity.”

His grin widens. “Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.”

You shoot him a look while you spin the cap back on the Bacardi. “Then I won’t.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I thought that I might as well just bite the bullet.”

“Ouch.” He places a hand over his heart. “Is the thought of being with me really that painful?” “Yes.”

Tae whistles. “Damn. She cold.” He studies you as you busy yourself with other customers before making your way back to his side fo the bar.

“So what you in for tonight jagiya? More fingers? Perhaps some tongue?”

You send him a glare over your glassware.

“Anal?”

You slam down the shot glass you were cleaning so hard it almost cracks.

“Anal is not virginity day stuff!” You hiss, leaning close to make sure he can hear you properly.

Tae’s grin splits his face and he lifts his drink up to his lips. “So you’re officially accepting my offer then.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.” You grumble, furiously putting away the glass and doing your very best to avoid his gaze.

Tae watches you the rest of the night, his gaze getting heavier as you go about your shift. At one point he stops drinking, holding up his hand when you lift the bottle to refill as usual.

“I’m okay.” He smiles, waving you off.

“What, already?” You set down the bottle, shocked.

“I need to be sober enough to do my job.” He replies. “So I’ll just have virgin coke and rums from now on.” He winks.

“Glad you’re taking it seriously,” you grumble, squatting down behind the counter to pull out a fresh can of coke as you try to ignore the flush painting your cheeks.

“For you jagiya? Always.”

You quickly open up the can, not caring that it bubbles over onto your counter as you shove it his way. “Flirt.”

He grins, picking up the coke and pouring it into his cup. “That’s me.”

It’s 20 minutes to the end of your shift when Tae can’t sit still any longer, fidgiting in his seat before finally hoping the counter and striding over to you.

“What are you doing? You can’t be back here-” you whip around, putting your hands on your hips. “Get back on your side of the bar.”

“I don’t want to.” Tae reaches out, grabbing your waist and pulling your chest to his. “The bar is empty. And I promised you a good time.”

“That’s nice, but my shift isn’t over.” You shove at his chest, but he doesn’t budge.

“It’s close enough.”

“Still.”

“But jagiya-” He leans forward, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I want to be close to you.”

You hold up a finger to his lips, pushing his head back. “Not your jagiya. And you can be close to me in 20 minutes when my shift is over.”

He pulls back with a frown. “You’re stalling.”

“No, I’m doing my job.” You pull out of his grip and whip him with your towel. “Now get.”

“Fine.” He hops over the bar again and sits back down, checking his watch. “18 minutes.”

It’s two minutes to the end of your shift when he follows you into the back storage room and rests his hands on your hips.

You jump, your heart beating out of your chest. “For the love of God- really Tae?”

“I’ve been patient,” he says pressing a hot kiss to the back of your neck.

You turn in his arms. “You couldn’t wait two minutes? Is taking my virginity really something you want to hurry up?”

“No, but making you feel good for the longest amount of time possible is one of my top priorities.”

“WoW,” you roll your eyes. “What a line. I’m sure all of your clients love that one.”

He grins, happily looping his arms around your middle. “They do in fact. But,” his eyes darken as he lowers his head until his lips are a breath away from yours. “With you I mean it.”

He kisses you then, hot and hungry, his fingers slipping into the hair at the back of your neck to get a better grip and slot your mouth deeper against his as he gives you a taste of what you’re in for tonight.

And against your better judgement, you find yourself leaning into it. He feels just as good as last time, and when his hands start to roam, you don’t stop him. Your hands are gripping him close, your focus on the way his tongue feels against yours when suddenly Tae pulls back, his hands on your ass.

“What the-” He reaches into your back pocket and pulls out exactly what you know he’s going to find.

He looks at you incredulously. “Is this a taser?”

You shrug, trying to catch your breath. “I work at a bar.”

“But a taser?”

“A girls gotta be protected.”

Tae chuckles and slides it back into your pocket. “But darling, that’s why you have me.”

You roll your eyes, smoothing down the creases in his shirt where you had held onto him. “You have a bat behind the counter that I bought specifically for you.”

He grins and drums his hands on your ass, giving it an appreciative squeeze. “Aw, that’s so sweet that you thought of me when you bought something. See? We’re bonding already.”

“Shut up and kiss me again.”

He does without a question, only pulling away to whisper “Bonding” once more as he slowly lowers himself to his knees and reaches for the button of your jeans.

“Oh - nope. No.” You tug him back up gently by his hair. “I am not letting you eat me out in the storage room of a bar.”

“So letting me finger you in an alley is fine but you draw the line at oral in a back room?” He looks up at you with a smirk.

You nod. “Standards.”

“Well then,” He stands up and brushes the dust off his knees. “I guess we better get to that hotel. And quickly.”

He keeps his hand on your lower back as you clock out and you find it hard to concentrate on logging the right time when he slips his pinky finger under the edge of your shirt.

“Hey-” you warn, shoving his hand off you, “Keep it PG.”

He grins, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You weren’t acting very PG in the storage room.”

You blush, grabbing your keys. “Let’s get going.”

He follows, nodding at the new bar tender thats taking your place and even holding the door for you as you walk out to your car. “Ma’lady.”

“Shut up.”

You drive to the hotel in relative silence, the only sounds being those of irritation as you shove Tae’s hand continuously off your leg as he tries to walk his fingers up your thigh. It was too much of a distraction.

Tae manages to keep his hands off you while you check into the hotel, but the minute you are in the elevator he’s crowding you into the corner, wrapping his arms back around your waist.

“How do you always smell so good even though we both spend our nights in a bar?” He murmurs, nuzzling his nose into your hair as you try to remember to breathe.

“I think it’s called Shampoo.” You answer, making Tae chuckle as the bell dings at your floor.

“Come on,” he grabs your hand and starts heading down the hallway.

You barely make it through the door before he’s pushing you up against it and cupping your face in his hands, kissing you hard.

You’re caught off guard but quickly oblige, sliding one of your hands into his hair to bring him closer still.

He slips his tongue out to touch the seam of your lips and you don’t hesitate to open them for him, letting his tongue slip against your own.

“I know you’re a great kisser jagiya, but I think we can do better than this,” he breathes, pulling away from your mouth to press kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

Your head hits the back of the door as you tilt your head to give him more access, letting it dawn on you that you’re really doing this - really about to give your virginity to the annoying as fuck escort who teased you at your job.

But god he was hot and what he was doing with his mouth as he sucked on your neck pooled heat in the place where you were starting to need him most.

You moan his name as he nips at your collarbones, pushing his hands underneath your shirt and pressing his palms against your bare sides.

“Your skin is so soft,” he groans, pulling back from your neck and tugging at the sides of your polo. “I want more.”

You lift your arms, letting him pull it off and toss it to the ground. His tongue darts out to lick his lips as he stares at your exposed décolletage, his gaze heating.

“Fuck jagi,” he swears softly, running his hands up your sides. You shiver underneath his touch. To be honest, the room is chilly, but his gaze heats you as he looks you over. “I didn’t know you were hiding all this under that polo.”

“Right,” you drawl, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. “Because a polo hides everything. Secret bra, secret boobs...secret.”

“No it’s not - fuck.” He stares at your chest, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as his hands slide up your sides, stopping just underneath your breasts.

“A speechless Tae? This is new.”

“You’ll be the speechless one soon jagi,” he chuckles darkly before dipping his head and popping one of your nipples into his mouth.

You groan at the sensation, arching your back into his mouth as your fingers slide into his hair, desperate to keep him there.

He obliges for a little while, one of his hands cupping your other breast to give it some attention while he works his tongue over your pebbled bud. Eventually he pops off, kissing across your chest as he spins you around, backing you up towards the bed.

You claw at his shirt as he sits you down, his mouth catching on yours before he parts from you to pull his shirt over his head.

It’s your turn to bite your lip as you unabashedly check him out, reaching out to trail your fingers down his chest in exploration.

“Like what you see jagi?”

“Don’t get cocky.”

“Too late,” he smirks, gesturing down to his pants and the obvious bulge that was growing there.

You roll your eyes, shutting him up by reaching up to pull his mouth back to yours. As he kisses you back you suddenly feel his hands at the button of your jeans, swiftly undoing them and sliding part of his hands between them and your underwear.

The first brush of his fingers over your covered mound has you gasping, your mind flashing back to that day in the alley.

“Tae,” you moan, and he presses down harder, rubbing softly over your core as he pulls away from your mouth.

“Trust me,” he whispers, locking eyes with you as he slowly pushes your back flat on the bed and gets down on his knees before you, pulling your jeans from your legs.

You’re trembling with nerves, keeping an eye on his face as he runs his hands soothingly over the tops of your thighs.

“It’s okay jagi, I’m just going to make you feel good. But if you don’t want it, I have other ways...”

He looks at you intently and you give a shallow nod, swallowing the lump in your throat as he presses his mouth to the side of your knee and begins to move slowly up the inside of your thigh.

It doesn’t take long before you start to relax, your trembling easing as you decide to trust him as he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your clothed heat, tasting you on the fabric.

He groans low in his throat, kissing it again before reaching up to your panties, tugging gently at the sides.

“Can I?”

You bite your lip, nodding as he slowly pulls them down your legs and over each foot before placing his hands back on your knees.

While he had disposed of your undergarments you had automatically closed your legs, your relaxed feeling gone now that you were deprived of your last piece of modesty.

“Jagiya... why’d you block the view?” Tae asks softly, massaging his thumbs into your thighs.

“I...I don’t know.” You bury your face in your hands. You feel Tae shift away from your knees, the warmth of his body spreading over yours and you feel his fingers trying to gently pry yours away from your face.

“Jagiya, look at me.”

You huff out a breath, running your fingers back into your hair as you look up at him. His brow is creased in concern as he looks down at you, brushing the back of his fingers over your cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

He shushes you softly. “Don’t be.”

“I just... don’t think I'm ready for that yet.”

“It’s okay, I have other methods, remember?” He gives you a comforting smile. “That is, if you still want to continue?”

You think about it for a second before smirking back up at him. “Kiss me again and we’ll find out.”

His mouth is back on yours in an instant and the comforting rhythm of his lips over yours has you calmed down and horny within a minute. You find yourself unconsciously wrapping your legs around his waist and he groans, pushing you back into the mattress as he begins to grind his hips against yours.

You moan into his mouth at the feeling, and when his hand finds itself back at your heat and rubbing your clit in slow circles, you’re bucking into his hand, the coil tight in your stomach aching for release.

“Tae,” you whine, reaching down your body to grip his wrist when he slides two fingers deep inside you. “Fuck, Tae...”

“We’ll get to that jagi, patience.” He shakes his hair out of his eyes before wrapping his other arm around your waist and bringing you into a half-sitting position, giving him a deeper angle to pump his fingers into you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, grabbing a handful of his hair as he brings you closer to orgasm. Everything about him is lighting you up inside, from the way his fingers move inside you, to the heat of his chest against yours, his mouth hot and sloppy against your own - and before you’re ready you find yourself coming over his fingers, a cry of his name on your lips.

“That’s it jagiya, that’s it,” he pants, working you through your orgasm. “Cum all over my fucking fingers...fuck.”

“Tae,” you whimper, pushing at his hand. “Tae more.”

Taehyung tsks, “I just gave you an orgasm and you already want more?”

“Yeah, want to get this over with.”

“Ouch.” He grins, pulling his hand out of your heat and bringing his fingers to his lips, sucking on the taste. You can’t deny the way it sends a fresh wave of heat to your core, but you mentally file it into the back of your head. Another time.

He pulls them out, his eyes impossibly darker. “Fuck baby, you taste so good.” He shakes his head as he trails his fingers over your inner thigh, chuckling when you shudder involuntarily underneath him. “But I already got you all ready for me.”

He pulls away from your body only to discard his pants before he’s back on top of you. He rocks his hips against yours, beginning to coat his length in your juices as you keen and wiggle beneath him, trying to adjust to the feeling.

“I love how sensitive you are,” he whispers, reaching over to the night stand where he had placed his wallet and retrieving a condom.

You watch him roll it on, your mouth open and panting. He’s so much bigger than you thought he would be. You didn’t know how he was going to fit.

He sees your brow crease in worry and reaches up, softly stroking your cheek. “Hey,” he whispers gently. “We’ll take this nice and slow, okay? Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop.”

You nod, biting your lip. You trusted that he knew what to do. He was a professional escort after all, right?

He rocks himself against your core and continues to kiss you until once again you are moaning in his mouth. Then slowly, he reaches down and lines up at your entrance, slowly pushing the tip in. You gasp into his mouth at the feeling, new, but not unpleasant as he slowly pushes in another inch and pauses.

“Okay?” He asks, eyes earnestly searching your face for any sign of pain.

You nod, clutching his shoulders. “Okay.”

He slowly pushes in an inch at a time, checking in with you to make sure this is really what you want. He groans when he bottoms out, hiding his face in your neck for a minute while he tries to even out his breathing.

“Still okay?” He asks, a little strangled, and you hug him to you tightly. It feels weird, to have your body so on display like this, so to be so close to another person - to have another person inside you. It’s silly, but you can’t stop your grin as your body adjusts to him and you realize you had finally done it - finally taken matters into your own hands and decided to lose your virginity. And it hadn’t hurt much. That was the part that surprised you most of all.

Your cunt pulsed around him and you experimentally clenched, just to see what would happen.

Tae let out a strangled sound and pulled himself away from your neck, glaring at you. “Stop that.”

You giggled, loving seeing the great sex-god Tae whining at your notions.

He moves out of you slowly, stopping your laughing when he slides back in. “Still okay?”

It’s a whole new feeling, and your body feels like it’s on fire as he slowly moves in and out of you, whispering questions as he does.

You whimper, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist as he picks up the pace, groaning with restraint.

“It’s okay Tae, you can go faster? If you want? I think I'm okay.” You’re actually aching for more, your breath hitching every time he moves against you and you’re starting to think that this might be paradise.

“Are you sure?” He pants, his skin gleaming with sweat, jaw clenched in concentration.

“Yeah-”

“Thank god.” He kisses you harshly, moving his hips faster against yours. “I’m so fucking sorry but I don’t think I can hold out much longer jagiya I’m-”

You moan, locking yourself around his body as he fucks into you hard, chasing his release. You realize while he had been slow for you, and careful to make sure you got off and were ready for him, he had been denying his own release and he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

You pulled his mouth back down to yours, claiming his kiss as you felt his pace slow and his body shudder above you.

Slowly you ran your hands up and down his back as he caught his breath, pulling out of you slowly. You didn’t mean too, but you winced as he did, catching Tae’s attention.

“Oh god, did I hurt you?” He began pressing kisses to the mark along your neck and checking you over.

“No! No. It’s okay. You’re fine. It’s fine.” You cupped his face in your hands, making him look directly into your eyes. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

He didn’t look convinced. “You sure?”

You pulled him down, kissing him softly in thanks. “I’m sure.”

“Okay.” He whispered, wrapping his arm around your waist and settling in at your side, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Rest a bit.”

You lay there for a moment in comfortable silence before Tae speaks again. “I should probably get going.”

He gets off the bed, collecting his items of clothing from around the bed as you sit up, tucking the sheet around your breasts to preserve your modesty.

Not that it matters, as he’s already seen you naked, but whatever.

You watch him for a moment before pulling your hair into a messy ponytail, securing it with the band on your wrist. “So, what do I owe you?”

Tae stills, turning around to study you while he finishes buckling his belt.

“What?” You tuck a stray hair behind your ear and suddenly find yourself shy. “Stop staring would you? It’s getting weird.”

He cocks his head, a slow smile playing over his face. “I was just calculating your payment. Deciding what it was going to be.”

“Well, get on with it. What is it?” You pull the sheet around you tighter and point to your discarded uniform. “Grab me that.”

He smiles, reaching for your polo and throwing it at you. “Breakfast.”

You give him a weird look. “Breakfast?”

He shrugs. “What? I’m hungry.”

You look over at the clock on the bedside table. “Tae, it’s 6am.”

“Okay, but think about it: pancakes.” He pushes his arms on the end of the bed, bouncing you a little. “Pancakes jagi. Pancakes.”

“Okay okay, I get it. Pancakes.” You pull your shirt over your head and sit in the bed, hands folded in your lap.

“Why are you still in bed? Don’t you want food?” Tae pouts at you from the other side of the room, putting his hands on his hips.

“I will get out when you turn around and toss me my pants.”

Tae chuckles as he looks around for your pants, finding them near the foot of the bed. “You don’t have to be so modest jagi, you were happily pants-less for me just moments ago.”

You scowl at him as he hands you your pants, batting him away with your hand as he tries to kiss your cheek. “Turn around.”

“Do I have to?”

You send him a withering glare and make a circle with your finger. “Around.”

He laughs but does as he’s told, disappearing into the bathroom while you pull on your discarded underwear and jeans. You’re trying to do the clasp of your bra behind you without fully taking off your shirt when Tae reappears, his hair now pushed back in the hotels curtesy, face-washing headband.

Somehow he pulls it off. You hate it.

“Aw, you’re putting it back on? After all that effort I went through to take it off.” He sighs heavily as he approaches you, giving you a wink as he takes the clasp nimbly from your fingers and clasps it together. “Did you want it on the first, second, or third row?”

“Um, first.”

As soon as he secures the clasp, you yank your shirt down over your stomach and walk briskly to where your purse lays, pulling it over your shoulder. “So breakfast then?”

The hazy look clears from his eyes and he smiles brightly, stepping quickly into his shoes - folding down the backs of them with his heels much to your horror- and throwing open the door. “BREAKFAST!”

Minutes later you’re sat inside a Perkins, watching as Tae flips through the menu, eagerly looking at all the items.

“Are you ready to order?” A tired waitress comes over, holding up her pen and clicking it.

“Yeah, I think so.” You look at Tae and he nods before looking back at his menu. “I’ll just have the hash browns and scrambled eggs. With a hot chocolate, please?”

The waitress smiles at you and takes your menu, tucking it under her arm as she turns to Tae. “And you sir?”

He looks up at her, wide-eyed. “Can I have the bear pancakes?”

The waitress blinks. “The ones with the bananas? From the kids menu?”

Tae nods his head vigorously, his hair bouncing over the headband. “Yeah!”

“Sure thing.”

He gives her a blinding smile, and you feel your heart stupidly skip a beat.

Shit.

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diagnosed-by-doyle · 5 years

Text

MC’s Period

I’ve been thinking of doing this topic for a while now. I just never got around to actually writing it until @quietbutariot mentioned it to me. Stick around for the ride.

Sorry if some are OOC. It’s hard to write headcanons when their routes aren’t out in English. Or at all.

Warning: NSFW period stuff

~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone in the mansion is a gentleman (mostly), so they wouldn’t even mention it unless they had a good reason to think you were hurt. (Personally, I’d just lock myself in my room all week. Locked door + the smell of blood = not a good combination. My door would probably get broken down while I was asleep.)

However, they wouldn’t mind taking care of you. We all know how painful cramps can be.

None of the residents would let themselves be near you for long if they thought it could put you in danger. They make sure to drink some Rouge before being around you for extended periods of time.

Arthur:

He thinks about tasting it. However, he wouldn’t do it unless he was certain it would make you feel better. He’s up for anything if it will ease your pain.

Forget writing about that bloody Holmes! His beautiful MC is in pain. He’ll tend to you the whole time. While you’re asleep, he may try to get a bit of writing done. But that’s only when you’re asleep. You’ll have his full, undivided attention otherwise.

Lots of cuddles

If you’re not feeling pain, he’ll let you do as you wish. But his door is always open for you if you need him.

If you get irritated or angry at him for any reason, his poor ego will be bruised, but he’ll try to calm you down as quickly as possible. Need something? He’ll get it. Craving anything? Name it, and it will be in your hands within the hour. Want a massage? He’s got you covered. His go-to for calming you down is your favorite food.

If you locked yourself in your room, he’d get extremely worried. Did he do something wrong? Why does he smell blood? “Are you okay? MC?” When you answer, he’s relieved. He can deduce from your words and tone what is going on even if you don’t really say what’s happening. If you don’t answer, you better believe he’s marching straight to Sebastian for the spare key.

Comte:

He’s pretty busy with all his paperwork and replying to letters(we have the Da Vinci family to thank for that). Because of that, he can’t shower you in all the love and affection that he wants to.

He would appreciate it if you joined him in his room. As one of his precious residents and someone he cares very deeply about, he feels responsible for your safety. By his side is the safest place you could be.

When he takes a break, he’ll shower you with kisses and cuddles. If you’re sleeping, he’ll sit on the side of the bed and stroke your hair with an adoring smile.

If anything would make you feel better, he’d gladly get it for you. He’d even cook for you if he thought Sebastian might be busy (he likely is).

You’re free to do as you’d like, but please be careful. He fully trusts everyone living under his roof, but he can’t help but be cautious.

If you get angry, he’ll get you your favorite dessert. Not talking to him? He’s upset by it, but he understands. He’ll try to calm you down if you’ll let him. Otherwise, he’ll wait until the next time you want cuddles.

If you come onto him, he’ll do anything you want. He may be a bit rougher than usual seeing as to how you’re seducing him with your words, body language, and scent.

Issac:

Just thinking about it makes him blush. He’s concerned even though he won’t bluntly say it.

If you come to his bedroom for attention and affection, he won’t complain.

He’s likely to argue back if you get irritated. Once he calms down and thinks over the situation, he’ll come back to apologize and hug you.

If you locked yourself in your room, he’ll have heard about it from someone else (can’t keep any secrets in that place). He’ll be worried and will probably keep knocking and calling for you until you say something. After a reasonable amount of time has passed with no answer, he’ll go talk to Napoleon about it and ask for advice.

He won’t do anything sexual. He’s too afraid he’d lose control of himself and hurt you.

Jean:

Unless he’s had some Rouge recently, this man is staying far away from you once he catches the scent. He doesn’t want to risk going into a frenzy around you.

Once he’s had some Rouge, he’ll give you the attention you want and need.

He’s actually very worried about you. He’d prefer for you to be resting.

If you get mad at him, he’ll get so upset and blame himself even if he didn’t really do anything. Apologize to this boy right now!

If you locked yourself in your room, he’ll break your door down if he’s extremely worried and you’re not answering.

He won’t do anything too sexual while you’re on your period. The most he’d do is kissing, groping, and biting.

Leonardo:

He’ll give you anything that you want. Kisses? Take them. Hugs? As many as you want. Cuddles? You get them all.

Just like the others who are a whiz in the kitchen, he’ll cook anything at all for you.

He’s likely to try to make you feel better through teasing you.

If you get angry at him, he’ll be understanding. Even though he knows that you’re not truly angry, he’ll think of a way to make you happier.

If you lock yourself in your room, he’ll just sit outside your door until you open it again. He will stay there as long as it takes.

He absolutely adores how seductive you’re being and how you’re taking charge. He doesn’t mind getting dirty with you.

Mozart:

He’ll let you sit next to him on the piano bench while he’s composing and playing.

He’ll rub where your cramps are to try to ease them.

He’s busy composing during the day, but once you two get into bed, he’ll give you plenty of affection.

He’ll play the most beautiful song he can think of to try to calm you down if you get angry. At first, though, he’d just get angry because you were angry.

If you lock yourself in your room, he hears about it from Sebastian. If what Sebastian says is particularly worrisome, he’ll go talk to you himself and get you to open up.

He loves you to death, but he just can’t get himself to do sexual things with you while you’re on your period. It crosses the line of what he’s willing to allow as someone who is a clean freak. Bloodstains are hard to get out.

Napoleon:

Calls you a nunuche for worrying about something like that. He’ll stay by your side and assure you that you don’t have to be worried about it just because you’re living with vampires. Everyone understands.

He’ll comfort you in any way he can and for as long as you want.

Gladly cooks anything you want. Just ask.

If you’re feeling needy, he cancels his fencing lessons with the kids so that he can properly tend to you.

If you get angry at him, he’ll be upset at first, but he won’t take it to heart since he knows that it’s just your hormones.

If you lock yourself in your room, he’ll ask if you’re alright. If he doesn’t get an answer, he’ll just get the key from Sebastian.

He doesn’t mind the blood, so he’ll do whatever you want. If it will make you feel better, he’s even happier to do it. He may get a bit rough with you since your hormones have you so aroused.

Dazai:

For as long as you desire, he’ll spend time with you. He’ll entertain you through random activities like looking at pictures, playing games with cards, or teasing Isaac.

The best way he knows to make you feel better is through laughter.

He’ll give you kisses when no one is around. He’ll also hold your hand.

He doesn’t think it’s necessary to keep you in your room. He values freedom, so it’s only natural that he wouldn’t put restrictions on you.

If you get angry with him, he’ll only tease you. Once it sinks in that you’re really upset, he’ll take you to your room for an affectionate apology.

If you lock yourself in your room, you can bet money that he’ll find a way to get in through your window.

He will pleasure you until you are satisfied. He’s happy to distract you from the pain.

Sebastian:

He gives you that time off once he realizes, whether that be through you telling him, your cramps, or the residents giving you concerned glances. It is in everyone’s best interest that you’re not leaving the scent of blood around the mansion.

He’s extremely busy, so he won’t be able to watch over you, but he will stop by to check on you from time to time.

He’ll bring all your meals to your room so that you don’t have to expose the smell of your blood if you’re not comfortable with it.

Tired of keeping to your room? He’ll go into town with you and get some shopping done.

At the end of the day, he’ll show you all the love and affection that he couldn’t earlier.

If you get angry, he’ll ask a few of the residents for advice.

It would be difficult for him to do anything sexual since that a...messy activity during that time of the month. The other residents would catch on if there was a drop of blood on him. He doesn’t want to embarrass you like that.

Shakespeare:

You’re not likely to see him unless you live with him.

If you do, in fact, live with him, he’ll cater to your every wish.

If you want his company, he’ll give it to you without question. Even if he was working on a play, it could wait.

He’s very careful to not do anything to upset you. After all, he is always very respectful to you. If you do get upset with him, though, he’ll let you play with his rabbit.

Since it was just Will, you probably wouldn’t feel like you need to lock yourself in your room. If you still do? Well, he has a key.

He’d do anything you want, all while whispering sweet words into your ear.

Theo:

He keeps an eye on you while you’re up and walking around. He doesn’t want someone to lose control around you.

All hondje jokes are put on hold. You’re suffering enough already, and he knows you’d only get pissed if he kept using them.

He has it on good authority (a.k.a. Arthur told him) that women like animals. He’ll ask if you want to play with King.

He’ll be more affection than usual. You feel like that may just be the smell of your blood affecting him, but you’re certainly not complaining.

If you get upset, he’ll just use his stunning charisma on you until you no longer are.

If you lock yourself in your room, he’ll be sure to tell you in detail what he’ll do to you if you don’t open the door.

Even if you try to take the reigns during your time together at night, he won’t let you. If anything, he’ll act even more dominant.

Vincent:

He’s concerned the moment he sees a look of discomfort or pain on your face.

He’s happy to comply when you ask him to just stay near you. His presence is very calming.

If you fall asleep while he’s with you, he’ll take the opportunity to make a painting of you.

It’s literally impossible to get angry at Vincent.

If you lock yourself in your room, he wouldn’t really be sure what to do. He’d come by every so often and ask you to open the door for him.

He’ll do anything you ask him to. He just wants you to feel better. He’s unsure if it’s pleasurable for you at first, but he gets turned on really quickly once he realizes you’re enjoying it.

#Ikemen Vampire #IkeVamp #ikevamp headcanon #ikemen vampire headcanon #this took so long #i blame exams

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blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Loki Baby Pt 4

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 -

Wk 18 - “What does it mean?” “You’re not ready to know what it means.”

…

@sdavid09, @theincaprincess

Hours Loki enjoyed the area around the hotel, until lunch came and a growl of his stomach had him looking to his phone again only to pause at your message popping up reading, “You look hungry.”

Looking up he glanced around only to smirk at your wave from across the street. A smirk eased across his lips in his check of the street he crossed to reach your side. “Busy day?” He asked upon reaching you.

“Not particularly busy. See you passed the block.”

He let out a weak chuckle, “Yes, I did.”

“Now, tomorrow we are flying back, so I thought tonight, I might show you the sights.”

For the rest for the day after your lunch Loki stood in awe of all you showed him through the capital city, though in each passing couple and destination along the way triggering others into taking pictures of themselves in varying stages of entanglement. The passing reminders of how couples would truly act at these locations brought out the phone you had given him and a trio of images were captured for each, one alone of either him or you, one together and one of the varying elements of the place he appreciated. By sunrise you both were showered and off to the airstrip with the Prince still grinning through most of the take off and first hour of the flight until he joined you in sleeping on your reclined seats for most of the rest of the flight.

Wheels lowered and down to earth you came and out to the waiting car you strolled. Inside it however his phone was brought out seeing Thor’s message once he turned it back on to call him when he had gotten back so he could see the new place. The drawing of your phone had him looking at you as you said, “Your furniture should be arriving in an hour. Just in time.”

Wetting his lips he looked you over saying, “Thor wished to drop by.”

“No doubt he is curious to see where I’ve stolen you away to.” You said with a smirk.

“Actually,” hastily he wet his lips and said, “There is one thing, it would be best to share now.” In your stroll out of the car and into the building.

Glancing at him you flashed him a curious grin in your first steps up to the second story, “You chose a bright pink color scheme?”

Shaking his head in a weak chuckle he forced out, “What? No.” he wet his lips again confirming that you were alone on the way to the third floor, “I told Natasha I was your hooker.”

A pause in your steps let a giggle escape from you, “Good for you. I am not going to lie to you, I am definitely flattered to be your pretend patron.” He glanced at you again and you let out another giggle, “What? You assumed I would force you to perform now?”

Stopping outside your apartment door you unlocked you caught his averted gaze and timid response, “No, of course not. I would never assume your interest in me past purely-, I’m certainly not Thor…”

Poking him in the stomach his eyes flinched back to you with brows raised and his lips pursed for a moment in shock at the sudden contact, “No! You are not telling me you are the lesser of two brothers on Asgard.”

Curiously his brows furrowed and at your brow arching up he replied, “I am the lesser of two brothers here as well.” A scoff from you had him following you inside, leaving his bag by the door following you through your main floor to your kitchen passing your bag you left beside the couch. “It is a fact.”

Turning around at the fridge you opened you asked, “For who?” Grabbing a bottle of juice for yourself you grabbed another to offer to him.

“Thank you.” He accepted the bottle and set it down resting his hand on the island on his left inhaling sharply before asking, “I don’t understand your question.”

Smirking after your sip you set your bottle down on the island standing across from him resting your hip against it shifting the waistband on your jeans and bottom of your blouse in doing so. Resting a hand on the counter at your side you replied, “Loki, ok,” you wet your lips, “I am going to say something you might take offense to,” he nodded looking over your face trying to take in each detail, “Thor is attractive, yes, in a giant puppy of a Prince sort of way. All happy and peppy to see you and craving of attentions, approval and affections of those around him. That aside, I personally would never have any interest in his company outside of friendship.”

Loki’s lips parted, “I’ve dated Thors before, the last time ending with me pinned to a wall for refusing his advances.”

“I hope he is not breathing,” He growled out.

“He is not. And this in no way means that I would assume Thor would ever force himself on a woman,” Loki nodded again, “Just, learning from former mistakes. What I do know of Thor however does prove my point that between the pair of you,” your head shook and he looked you up and down inhaling deeply feeling his heart racing for what you were to say next, “You are nowhere near the lesser brother.”

Lifting your bottle again he wet his lips shifting awkwardly on his feet, “You do not know me, how can you be certain?”

Lowering your bottle before you took a sip you set it down saying, “Because you love him, clearly and ardently you put up with his narrow minded ways.”

His eyes narrowed again, “Narrow minded?” His pulse spiked again, though this time in defense of his brother only worsening at your hint of a smirk.

“My point exactly. You protect and defend him even when he doesn’t deserve it.” His lips parted and you cut him off, “If my twelve siblings were alive I would never let my reputation or embarrassment for their antics allow anyone of my inner circle to treat them how Thor allows the Avengers and SHIELD to treat you.” His lips closed and his eyes looked you over almost tearfully as he straightened up out of his defensive stance at the pain flickering in your eyes, “You are his brother, but the moment you do anything to make his friends give him a second glance,” you wiped your palms together shaking your head, “Brushing you right off, ‘Oh, he’s adopted’ just pushes you right away. Unmatched loyalty, until it effects how he is perceived. That is precisely why you are galaxies apart in my eyes, you love unflinchingly, that is pure, genuine, trust me, so hard to find in the vast corners of the world. I would never pick him, because if that is how he allows you, his baby brother to be treated, if we were together, how would he allow me to be treated? How much of myself would I be forced to pack away to cater to his ego?”

At the phone ringing against the wall you raised your bottle passing his side while saying, “Besides, blondes are overrated.” Steadily a smirk eased across his lips in his lifting the bottle to open it, turning to watch you stroll to the phone you tapped the button on the screen beside it showing the delivery truck parked outside. Lifting the receiver you said, “Thank you Bobby, let them up, they’ll be needing the lift.”

Hanging up the phone you turned around saying, “Your furniture is here.”

He nodded and watched you turn again tapping a few of the glowing buttons on the screen showing a group of hovering otter shaped AI’s flying to the back of the truck luring him closer to the screen, asking, “Are those otters?”

You nodded and flashed him a quick grin, “Yup. Unlike Stark my AI’s are adorable and helpful. Spend their free time heading out in fleets to scour the oceans for waste rather than teaming up with some cyber overlord to decimate the human race.”

Making him smirk again and take another sip of his drink he set down then follow you to his apartment door seeing the men in the truck watching the otters carrying furniture inside reading each item number to know where to place it exactly. A quick message to Thor later and he was right behind you saying, “Again, it seems as if Tony is no match for you, other than his workers losing their jobs, why allow him to remain atop his company?”

Smirking up at him you opened the door to his apartment seeing the large lift opening with a couch coming in first you parted allowing it through the doorway, “Because believe it or not he is quite intelligent, once aimed in the right direction he could be quite useful for humanity.”

“Not as useful as your company.”

Smirking at him you replied behind a table floating by, “My company very possibly won’t be here forever.”

Furrowing his brows he asked, “Oh? What makes you say that?”

Easing inside behind you he watched the otters cutting open the wrappings on each piece they swallowed whole and he got to your side noting they were lining the pieces up according to his designs. Peering up at him you said, “No telling what will happen.” Peering out the window you spotted Thor, Tony and Sam flying up with Peter landing beside them turning to peer into the open truck at the floating otters they followed up, taking the stairs to make their way up and into Loki’s open apartment. “Looks like Thor brought company.”

Loki looked to the door spotting Tony entering behind an armchair as Thor open mouthed strolled through the main floor asking, “This is all yours?”

Loki nodded, “Yes, three stories.” Making Thor turn to hurry upstairs while your attention turned to the teen wide eyed following after Bucky, who flew up on Vision’s back, now walking straight to your apartment. Ignoring the hushed arguments of the teen Bucky continued looking at each book making his way to your office only to pause seeing a familiar photo. Crossing the room he lifted the portrait from the wall he brought with him over to Loki’s apartment while Tony continued to stroll around inspecting things for himself.

Bucky came right up to your side making Loki’s brows furrow, holding the picture up for you to see he asked, “Where did you get this?”

Looking over the portrait of him and a group of soldiers playing poker you tapped one of the men in the photo, “My dad is the Captain.”

He looked at the picture then back to you and shook his head, “No, you can’t be old enough to be his child!”

You nodded taking the picture from his hand you passed to a leaving otter, “If you say so.”

Bucky pointed at the picture floating away Tony used his glasses to zoom in on and copy, “Captain Jack Harkin- that arrogant bastard!”

“Harkness. If you’re going to insult my father use the proper name or it’s just laziness.”

You strolled out of the way of a pair of otters bringing in a dresser they carried upstairs, Tony looked you over as his system continued searching for results of a facial scouring of history linked to the name.

Bucky, “He swindled me out of fifty bucks! And then when he said he would get me a bottle of whiskey to make up for it he skipped town! With my date!”

You nodded saying, “I’ll be sure to remind him about your whiskey.”

Sam, partially stunned asked, “He’s still alive?”

You nodded, “Off popping about ruining others days with his mischief.”

Tony moved closer to you saying, “My search isn’t ringing up any Jack Harkness, care to check the spelling on that?”

Smirking at him you replied, “I doubt you’ll find him his file’s been redacted.” Parting Sam’s lips understanding he must be of an elite division.

Tony’s eyes narrowed, “Why isn’t your name Harkness then?”

“Mum’s maiden name.”

Tony nodded then asked, “Her name?”

“Missy,” he nodded typing the name into his system with the control folding out over his palm as you strolled to the door, “But you won’t find her either.”

Making him huff and ask, “Why is that?!”

“Because she’s in prison for war crimes.”

Sam’s head cocked, “War crimes? Like the Nazis?”

You turned shaking your head, “No. Different war. Technicality really. Someone needed to take the blame.”

Tony, “Where is she serving time?”

“I am not authorized to say.”

His lips pursed in irritation and Sam asked, “Which war?”

“I am not authorized to say.”

The teen chuckled saying, “When did they find time to have you?”

You smirked at him, “My dad made time for his rendezvous.”

Thor trotting down the steps smirked saying, “Were you not already befriending my brother I might attempt to woo you myself for housing such as this.”

Smirking his way you replied, “Try as you might you would fail,” making his grin flinch, “You aren’t my type.”

Sam smirked saying, “Ooh, got it bad for the bad boys?”

Looking to Sam you replied, “No, I am however opposed to cowards,” dropping his jaw, “Who refuse to defend their family from those attempting to demean them.”

Thor shifted on his feet and looked to Loki, who merely looked at him in return waiting to hear what he would say. Bucky said, “That’s a bit harsh.”

“Really? Confirmed assassin, man who murdered Stark’s parents, how much is he paying you a month?”

Bucky shrugged, “Few grand, same as the rest of the crew.”

You nodded, “Wanna take a stab at how much Loki got? Along with his short leash and demanded appearances to play ‘Bad Boy’ for the new superhero team?”

Peter chuckled awkwardly rubbing his neck, “Well it can’t be less than me. I get $850 to help with rent after my scholarships.”

“You would be wrong.”

Thor moved closer to you, “Who are you to call me a coward?!”

Without moving your head tilted back in his sparking rage stomp your way, “Someone who’s lost twelve siblings to war and would never write them off as adopted so my buddies don’t think less of me and stop wanting to be my friends.” Instantly his sparks dwindled in your step closer, “Spark up all you like, slam me against the wall, you won’t change my mind until I see a change in how you show the love you bury for your brother so they can feed your addiction to adoration.”

Strolling around him Tony said, “So, this is how you are helping Loki change his ways? Hmm? Insulting his brother, leading us around trying to find out who you are?”

Locking your eyes on Stark he swallowed dryly and his eyelids almost flinched shut at the fierce gaze hitting him, “I have no intention on changing Loki, merely his environment. After all, a little human decency instead of tethers and belittling a man who could summon armies of aliens to this planet seems the better plan for earth’s safety. Hmm?”

Vision, “Loki is not human.”

You looked at him, “No less deserving of respect. He is a Prince, whether this is his planet or not should not matter.” You looked to Stark again, “Search away all you like, but you won’t find me or my family and you’ll just have to deal with that fact,” narrowing his gaze at you, “Or the consequences of trying my patience.”

Stark, “Is that a threat?!”

Smirking at him you replied, “Oh Sugar, that’s a promise.” A buzz from your pocket had you drawing out your phone sounding with an alarm you stepped aside to look at seeing warning alerts that Stark had left bugging devices inside the apartment.

Silencing the alarm Bucky strode closer to you with narrowed gaze saying, “Pretty confident talk for a civilian.”

Peering at him over your shoulder Sam said, “Definitely not a civilian.”

Bucky looked you over saying, “You served?”

“Yup joined at 17.”

Tony, “Your rank?”

“Colonel.”

Bucky, “There were no medals or patches displayed in your apartment.”

Your eyes locked with his, “I don’t display them.”

Thor, “Why not? Serving your lands is deserving of boasting for your valor. Display them proudly.”

Sam looked you over, “Let me guess, you are not at liberty to discuss how you earned those patches or how you reached your discharged rank?”

“I cannot even divulge which branch I served in or where. My family has its reputation and aided my being trusted to achieve my status.”

Tony, “Can you at least say where you were born?”

“You probably wouldn’t know it, it’s tiny, though larger once inside the borders, Tardis.”

Loki wet his lips asking you, “Are you hungry?”

You nodded, “I’ll get the menus for you to choose from.” Leaving the apartment to head into yours you sighed hearing hushed whispered arguments in your fetching the menus. Drawing your pen you switched a tiny lever sending out sonic pulses causing the internal workings of the bugs to short circuit and die.

Tony, “Just come back Loki! This is stupid! You don’t have to whore yourself out to her for more money!”

Loki scoffed back at him, “You get no say in my choices.”

Peter mumbled to himself, “But she’s so attractive, she doesn’t need a prostitute.” His brows popped up as Loki glanced at him, “I know, you’re more of an escort! Just company, no sex!”

Vision mumbled, “Escort? What does it mean?” He asked Sam.

Sam glanced up at him answering, “You’re not ready to know what it means.”

Vision mumbled to himself, “I will ask Wanda then.”

Loki, “The details are not important for you to know.”

Drawing closer Peter patted Loki’s shoulder, “Well, I say good job. She seems to like you a good deal.”

To which Tony scoffed making Thor state, “No, the boy has a point-,”

Peter, “I’m not-,”

Thor, “She has defended him soundly. Shown very admirable rank in defense of her home.”

Tony, “Rank we cannot confirm! Have you forgotten why we came here?!”

Thor, “I came to ensure my brother is well cared for.”

Loki, “I am not a pet.”

Bucky chuckled, “You are if she’s paying you so well. You are what she says you are.”

Loki, “Miss Pear treats me to my birth rank of Prince. Never less than that.”

Tony, “So what other uses does she have for you? Since she is paying so much for your company?” His eyes wandering to the otters nudging him aside so they can set up another table they ate the wrap to and righted.

Peter stood grinning widely at the cute three foot otters adjusting the furniture before floating off again to fetch another piece, “These are so adorable! Where did she get them?”

Entering the apartment you said, “I made them.” Making him turn to grin at you as you approached Loki handing him the menus while Tony eyed the pen you eased back into its holster in your pocket. “When they aren’t here they’re cleaning oceans of waste.” Making Peter gasp in awe, “Figure if I’m not using their aid all the time they might as well have a useful task to help people without drawing too much attention.”

Peter, “What about oil spills? Can they clean those too?”

“I have a set of orcas that handle those, it takes a different absorbing system with tiny jellyfish that help to stem off the source of the leak in a protective shield.”

Sam looked to Loki with a smirk, “You ok with being bound to the savior of the oceans? Might rub off on that reputation of yours.”

Rolling your eyes you said, “I am not boasting about that.”

Bucky, “Why not?”

“Because I’m just not. I don’t need the publicity.”

Tony, “Or don’t want anyone to know you’re dropping AI’s into the oceans.”

“You caught me,” you said with a smirk, “I’m building my own island with kryptonite and poisoning the whales and sharks against humans. Soon my blubbery minions shall overtake the world. Mwa-haha!”

Peter chortled along with Sam and Bucky as Thor helped to decide the meal you ordered and shared with the men until they got called back by Pepper leaving you and Loki alone.

Lowly he said helping you clean up, “I apologize for my brother threatening you.”

Smirking at him you said, “I’ve faced bigger and badder puppies than him.”

“No doubt,” he asked looking you over, “I noticed your listed events had a black tie dinner on Friday, would you be requiring an escort?”

“If you like. I have an appointment with a suit maker day after tomorrow. In the morning we can make a stop at the market to fill your pantry.”

He wet his lips then looked you over asking, “Does that mean I can join you for breakfast again?”

“I’ll make waffles. If you need anything let me know. I’ll let you explore and settle it all to your tastes. Goodnight Prince Loki.”

Nodding to you he watched as you turned for the door, “Goodnight,” when the door shut between you he continued to stare at the door as he whispered, “Jaqi.” Anxiously he wet his lips and turned to look around nipping at his lip in his first step to inspect the rooms he had furnished.

Up to his room he went seeing a fresh supply of toiletries in his bathroom and his bag the otters had brought to set on the bed they had made for him. Looking to the closet he lifted his bag and carried it into his closet where he began to put away his clothes smirking at all you had gifted him filling a small portion of the vast space. The last item in his bag being his painting he smirked carrying back down to the first floor to prop up on his mantel until he could get a proper hook for it. It was a small step and he still had so much to fill this place with, but it was a step he was taking with you, and for the first time on this planet he felt something close to having a home of his own.

All through the apartment your scent had wafted and a wave of calm washed over him in knowing that even with walls between you he truly wasn’t that far away. So up to bed he went, as he had the past few days, struggling against his daydreams of you stretched out beside him sleeping soundly and the sunrise after washing over you both in confirmation that you had not left.

Slowly he drifted off into dreams of what could be while halfway across town Stark Tower filled with curses as Tony glared at his monitors all reading that the bugs he’d left were destroyed.

Bruce’s pursed lips parted for him to say, “Maybe you picked a bad batch.”

Tony glared at him, “I made those especially for this!”

Dr Strange strolled in sipping on his ‘World’s Best Doctor’ mug he lowered to say, “I believe you might have underestimated Miss Pear. She fortifies homes for a living. You sure she doesn’t have tech that fried the bugs when you set them?”

Tony, “They were fine when I set them! Recorded for a full four minutes, until-,” His eyes narrowed and he growled out, “That pen! She didn’t even use it!”

Bruce glanced at Dr Strange then back to Tony as he rewound the footage pointing at your returning through the doorway before the footage cut off, “See!”

They shook their heads and Bruce said, “Great Wall take out menu?”

Tony zoomed in on the video showing a quick glint of gold from your palm, “See it!”

Dr Strange, “So she has a gold pen? What does it matter?”

Tony, “It wouldn’t if it was a pen, but it’s not!”

Bruce, “Ya lost me.”

Dr Strange, “But you said it was a pen.”

Tony, “It only looks like a pen!”

Bruce, “I think you’re just reading too much into this.”

Tony huffed leaving the room, “I got to find out how to get it from her.” A smirk eased across his lips and he drew out his phone and he said, “Jarvis. Call Scott Lang.”

Jarvis’ voice replied, “Dialing now…”

Bruce and Dr Strange glanced at one another and the latter said, “This can only go well.”

Bruce smirked saying, “Not at all, but it will be amusing as hell to watch.”

Pt 5

#Tale Teller’s 52 Week Writing Challenge #Loki x Reader OC

20 notes · View notes

7-wonders · 5 years

Text

As Above, So Below Ch. 14

Summary: Your average, mundane life as a college student is flipped upside down when the man you thought you knew as your next-door neighbor turns out to be the God of the dead. When Michael lures you down to Hell, everything that you thought you knew about the world is proven wrong.

Word Count: 2800

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this chapter! We’re getting to the climax of this story, slowly but surely (sorry this is posted so late it’s been a hectic week). Feedback is always appreciated, and if you liked this chapter please reblog or leave me a comment!

There’s truly nothing like successfully descending to Hell and back to boost your ego. You only manage to get a couple of hours of sleep before the excitement of knocking out the rest of the Wonders forces you up. Madison’s obviously not pleased to see you out so soon after she sent you to rest, but you’ve assured her that you’re fine and more than ready to get this over with. Surprisingly, it’s your uncle that is the last to enter the large library. He’s dressed impeccably, wearing an ascot fastened with a brooch like he’s going to a fancy dinner instead of administering a test. The dark eyeliner that he’s so fond of lines his eyes, making the already-startling color pop more.

“Warlocks always take so long to get ready.” Madison scoffs, rolling her eyes while appraising John Henry’s outfit. “At least you clean up well, unlike some of the others I know.”

John looks extremely shocked, and you’re sure that you look the same. Madison actually complimenting one of the dreaded warlocks? Surely this must be the first sign that the apocalypse is here.

“Maybe I can give you some tips, my Lady.” John mocks, smirking while Madison glares at him.

“I have thousands of years worth of fashion under my designer belt but thanks.” She snips, hands on her hips to prove her assertiveness. “(Y/N), let’s start the final three tests now that we’re all here.”

“What’s the first test?”

“Transmutation.” Your lips twitch at the first image that pops into your mind.

“Transforming into a mutant? I thought I was doing witchcraft, not joining the X-Men.” You can’t help but to laugh at your own joke, the hilarity only increased by the exasperated look on Madison’s face.

“I don’t know what an ‘X-Men’ is, and I don’t really care to find out. Think of transmutation like teleporting.” Madison directs you to stand over by the wall as she and John Henry converse quietly.

Your uncle holds his hands up, conjuring two items in thin air: a knife and a brick. Furrowing your eyebrows, you look between the two to see if you can discern what each weapon is going to be used for. They both stare back at you stoically, and you rub your palms against your jeans when you realize that they’re suddenly sweaty with nerves.

“Um, what are those for?” You ask.

“Motivation.” John Henry responds.

Before you can further question him, he flings his hand towards you, the brick flying in your direction. Your eyes widen and you let out a squeak of fear. Apparently practice does help to hone skills, since you barely have to think about the spot on top of the staircase before you feel a tugging sensation right above your navel. You land at your designated spot, knees buckling slightly from the impact. The brick smashes into the space against the wall that your head occupied mere milliseconds before. You smile widely when they turn to look at you, but your sassy sentence dies in your mouth when John repeats the action with his other hand.

A knife is a lot more deadly than a brick, and the deadly precision with which John throws it makes it impossible for you to slip up. It’s also flying towards you much quicker than the previous object, giving you absolutely no time to actually think about where you want to go. All you think is that you want across the room, disappearing right as the point of the knife is an inch away from your chest. This time, you reappear behind both Madison and John. Tapping their shoulders, you jokingly pout when they turn around.

“Uncle, I thought you loved me! How could you attempt to kill me?” You say dramatically, placing a hand over your heart.

“I assure you, I only threw those at you because I knew that you were more than capable of dodging them.”

“Are you ready for the next Wonder, (Y/N). I can always throw some fire at you if you want to really make sure that you have transmutation down.” Madison says.

“Madison, was that a joke?” Madison’s M.O. has always been sarcasm, not straight-up jokes.

“You tell anybody about this and I will throw fire at you.” She threatens, but there’s a twinkle in her eye that lets you know she’s only kidding. “Your second-to-last task will be divination, which is using your supernatural abilities to obtain knowledge of any kind.”

“There are multiple ways to divine knowledge, but we figured that scrying would be the best option.” John Henry steps in.

“What’s scrying?” You ask.

“Scrying is using a reflective surface to gain the desired knowledge. For this exercise, we’ll just be using the mirror.” He gestures towards the floor-length mirror that stands in the corner, ornate gold carvings surrounding the surface. “Hecate, if you would be so kind as to tell (Y/N) the item that she will be finding today.”

“Do you remember the silver flowers you wore in your hair the night of the Underworld’s ball?” She waits for you to nod before continuing. “I’ve hidden those somewhere in this building. Using the mirror, I’d like you to tell me the exact location of these flowers.”

You step in front of the mirror, Madison and John Henry moving to the sides so as not to impede your vision. Taking a deep breath to clear your mind, you imagine the flowers that adorned your hair what feels like a lifetime ago. How dainty they are, the cool silver as you brushed a hand through your hair, how carefully Desa threaded them in for you. Then, you let the tendrils of your magic reach through the mirror. You stare intensely through the surface, watching as it wavers like a lake when a rock gets tossed through the water. Instead of the hiding spot of the flowers, though, the mirror darkens along with the edges of your vision. It feels like your eyes are being drawn into the scene even though you’re not moving at all. All you can see is what’s slowly being revealed in front of you.

A blood-red sky hangs above the scene, smoke rising from the ground and blurring everything that you can see. Your heart pounds when the smoke clears enough for you to see the same throne made of bones that terrorized your last nightmare in the Underworld. Ravens continue to circle above it, calling to each other in a language you can’t understand. You’re not really sure you want to understand it, not with the way these birds are glaring at everything that moves. Even worse, the cracked white face and coal-black eyes that make up Michael’s demonic alter ego are prevalent as he lounges on the throne, looking entirely uninterested at what’s going on around him.

It’s like you’re watching a TV show, but you’re the main character. Another you is forced to your knees on the cracked marble floor, the throne rising up ahead. Red blooms on the white fabric that covers your abdomen, the spot growing larger with every passing second. When you cough, blood spills out of your mouth and dribbles down your chin. Satan stands proudly behind Michael’s throne, pulling himself to his full height since there’s no roof to stop him.

“Do it.” Satan growls. His voice reverberates throughout the room, almost like there’s speakers hanging in multiple spots on the walls.

“Michael, please don’t.” The other you pleads, hands pressing against the wound in order to try and stop the bleeding.

“This is your destiny, my son. Kill the girl.” Michael stares at you for a long moment, but the look in his eyes is impossible to figure out with the lack of color.

Invisible demons are chattering from all around you, yelling and snarling in what you think is Latin. The noises reach a crescendo when Michael stands, producing a blade from inside his cloak. The you on the ground shakes the closer he gets, tears welling up in your eyes from fright. His hand tangles in your hair, and you let out a yell when he yanks you up towards him. Smirking, he curls his lip in disgust when you start audibly crying.

“P-please Michael.” You whimper, gripping his arm tightly. “I love you.”

Michael’s silent for a long moment, and you almost start to think you’ve gotten through to him. His fingers twirl the knife around, a telltale sign that he’s thinking about something. His smirk, however, widens into a feral grin.

“What a pity.” He tuts.

With one swift motion, he turns you so that your back is against your chest. It’s a presentation, you realize, a way to show his father that he’s fulfilling these ‘grand’ plans.

“Don’t do this!” You cry.

“Power in your name, Father, and may you rise from the void!” With that, Michael takes the knife and slices your neck open.

A single, wet gasp escapes your mouth as blood gushes out of the cut. Your heart tries to send more blood to the wound in an attempt to clot it, but that only makes you lose blood faster. It coats the front of the once-white sundress that you were wearing, and you’re horrified to watch yourself die.

“Ave Satanas!” Michael calls out as lightning flashes across the sky and thunder booms. Once he’s sure that you’re completely dead, he tosses your body to the ground like a discarded napkin.

You’re pulled back abruptly, the suddenness of the bright lights making you squint your eyes in pain. There’s a high-pitched screaming echoing through the room, and it takes you a moment to realize that it’s yours. The arms wrapped around you pull you to the ground, holding you tightly in an attempt to sedate you.

“(Y/N)! What happened?” A low voice, that you recognize as John Henry’s, says in your ear.

“Holy shit, you’re bleeding out of your eyes.” Madison notes from where she’s crouched in front of you. When you glance at yourself in the mirror, you see that she’s right. Red streaks down your face, coating your eyelashing in a thick mascara of blood.

“I...it was like that nightmare that I had in the Underworld, the one where Michael was sitting on a throne of bones and eating my heart while Satan stood behind him? Only this time, I watched him kill me. He slit my throat.”

“Here, let’s get you cleaned up.” Madison looks at John, who stands and leaves the room to presumably grab a cloth.

“Why did that happen?” You stare at Madison with wide eyes. How did a simple task spiral into something like this?

“Some people, when attempting scrying, have...I don’t want to say visions, because what you saw is not going to happen. They can see possible futures.” Madison explains gently, taking the wet cloth from John and muttering her thanks.

“So I saw the future?” Holy shit, maybe I am an X-Man, you think to yourself.

“A possible future. There’s a million different things that factor into the probability of a future, creating an endless amount of futures. This doesn’t mean that Michael is going to kill you and start the end of the world, but it’s always been a possibility.” She takes great care in not hurting you when she wipes the blood off of your face, especially when she gets close to your eyes.

“Michael wouldn’t kill me though, right? Even...even if his father corrupted him?”

“Michael wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did. Satan would literally have to possess him and carry it out through him in order for Michael to even think about that.” The vision that is still seared into your head is pretty jarring, but the knowledge that Michael was overjoyed to see you just hours ago reassures you that Madison’s right.

“I don’t want to try divination again. I’d rather fail the Seven Wonders than have to look in that mirror for information.”

“You passed.”

“What?” You and John Henry both say at the same time, looking up at Madison in confusion.

“Divination is divining knowledge through supernatural means. You had a vision about the end of the world through looking into a mirror, thus divining the knowledge.”

“Well, definitely never going to use a mirror again if I have to divine something.” You say after a long pause. Madison and John both laugh at your response.

“That’s perfectly okay. Never has any magical being gotten visions from looking at rocks to find knowledge.” John explains.

“If I have it my way, I won’t be doing any divining.” You joke, hugging your knees to your chest. Madison waves her hand, making the now-bloody cloth disappear.

“(Y/N), I know that this was very traumatic for you, so if you would like to suspend testing to rest, we can. But, you do only have one more Wonder to complete.” Madison stands, pulling you to your feet as well.

“What’s the last one?” You ask.

“Vitalum Vitalus.”

“The gift of resurgence.” John Henry fills in when he notices your confusion. “This Wonder involves perfectly balancing the scales between life and death to bring something back to life.”

“Not even Michael can successfully complete this. Seeing as how the prophecy stated that you will be the bridge between the living and the dead, I believe that this will be your most powerful gift.” Madison says.

“Oh God, please don’t do anything fucked up like kill my uncle and make me bring him back.” You roll your eyes.

“Now where would you ever get an idea like that?”

“Hmm, maybe from the fact that you’d love nothing more than to kill a warlock.” You chuckle when Madison smirks, acknowledging defeat.

“Well, we’ll have to find something here that’s dead.”

“It’s a school for warlocks, we keep animals here specifically for this reason.” John Henry interjects, huffing at Madison’s antics before walking out of the room.

You’re anxious, wanting to get this last test over with so you can either reunite with Michael in the Underworld or go back to your home and cry about everything you’ve lost. Sure, you may still have magic, but what use are these gifts if you can’t use them to help save the world? It doesn’t take long for John to return to the room, but by then you’re already up and pacing. He sets the shoebox in his hands down on the table, beckoning you towards him. When you peek into the box, you can’t help but to gasp.

A small rabbit lies dead, nestled on a bed of tissue paper. When you tentatively reach out to touch it, you can feel that it’s still warm.

“Did you kill it?” You ask, an image flashing through your mind of your uncle strangling the helpless creature. John blanches at your expression, awkwardly clearing his throat and avoiding eye contact.

“Bring it back to life.”

Cupping your hands under the rabbit’s body, you shudder as you lift it out of the box. Its body is limp, rigor mortis not yet setting in. Closing your eyes, you focus on the warmth you still feel emanating from the corpse. You imagine the rabbit hopping around, twitching its little nose and suckling from a water bottle in the cute way that all rabbits do. You’re not sure how you know what to do, but something from deep inside you tells you to take a deep breath in before letting it out slowly.

Nothing happens at first. You keep your eyes closed, still focusing on sheer will to bring the rabbit back to life. When you feel the shifting of fur in your palms, you finally open your eyes. The rabbit’s still laying still in your hands, and it takes a moment for you to notice the faint movement as it breathes. Your face lights up when its ears twitch, and you let out a disbelieving laugh when it sits up and stares at you. You don’t know how to react to this situation, so you gently place the rabbit back in the box before looking up at the two who have proctored your tests.

John Henry’s in disbelief, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Madison just looks extremely pleased, ‘I told you so’ written all over her face. You’re kind of in disbelief yourself, at the moment. Honestly, for everything that completing the Seven Wonders was hyped up to be, it’s more than a little underwhelming now that you’ve actually completed them. You were expecting fireworks to go off and for your hands to start glowing. Nothing’s changed, you don’t feel any different, yet the mere knowledge that you hold this amount of magical abilities somehow changes everything.

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oncerpotter2018 · 5 years

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Dark Phoenix: Mutants Are Humans Too

If I become the only person to appreciate this film and saw it for what it was meant to be, then let me be that person. If I am called out for my love for this then let it be so. I have been so loved and deeply emotionally attached to human beings, knowing how it feels to feel alone, to be afraid and to be different, I knew that since watching the first three X-Men movies, I never knew how much these movies will change my life. I never doubted these films and never seemed to try to compare them to others because I already do that with myself.

If I were to agree with those who loathe it then I would be lying to myself. I would be dishonest and so here is an account of an analysis of the movie, the ideas and thoughts that raised through my mind. investigating the ways which it was a human film, focusing on the human more than the super in “superhuman”. So if being called out for what is deemed the worst then let me called it the best thing I have ever seen. Still going to defend it until only a few of us are left, still holding on to that hope that had been thought of us for so long ago.

I am going to be as honest and as truthful in my views because it is the most human thing to do...

(Warning for spoilers and mild blood/violence)

Director:

Simon Kinberg

Cast:

Sophie Turner, Jessica Chastain, James McAvoy, Michael Fassbender, Jennifer Lawrence, Nicholas Hoult, Tye Sheridan, Alexandra Shipp, Kodi Smit-McPhee, Evan Peters

Rating: 5 Stars

“I’m not afraid of you, Jean. Look at me. Focus on my voice. We’re going to get through this together. I’m not giving up on you, Jean. This is what family does. We take care of each other. You’re my family, Jean”

From its traumatic beginning to its heartbreaking climax and to its bittersweet ending, Dark Phoenix played with human emotions, mixing in real-life situations with the fantasy that is the superheroes that they are. Like in the many films that came before it, it begins with a family. The music is playing, the sun is out, and eight-year-old Jean Grey is in the back seat as her parents drive to their destination. However, for Elaine Grey, she would never reach her destination for she was the mother who dies with her eyes open. Jean now alone, is visited by Charles Xavier and from this moment on, the life of Jean Grey would never be the same again and with this scene, where man and child discuss this over, each of the characters are closely framed together, it offers a bound, a relationship that would later be shattered. Jean’s facial expressions and body language are suited for a young child who is afraid, alone and is isolated from her parents. Without parental guidance, without that love and embrace from her family, she shies away, eyes drawn towards the ground. Charles later gives Jean a home, a place where she can roam free with others like herself. But she declines the offer, saying she breaks things and to that Charles promised her on the year of 1975 that she is not broken, and he’ll help her, guide her and make her believe she can do anything. Anything she sets her mind to.

Soon after the events of Apocalypse, its been ten years and things have changed and not just physically. What I adored and admired from this movie was exploring a side of Charles we haven’t seen before. The side of pride and an excess of having too much. Charles desired to be praised, to be accepted and play a bigger role in society. James McAvoy magnificently captures Charles’s moments of glory, the way he smiles and plays along with this fame and success with such egotism. His ego was later tested when the direct line to the President is cut off, metaphorically cutting himself off from the fame and glory he tried to hold. What I respected from Simon Kinberg, was the way he understood about our attachment to our pride, our successes and our wants in life and by the end of this film, Simon created a sense of what it means to be human, to make mistakes and learn to evolve from them. For Charles, this meant to learn to forgive and admit he was wrong. In the end, he was reminded of his wrong decisions, the way he pushed away what was more important for a life he wanted so bad.

Dark Phoenix showed me not just superheroes but humans too, humans who are different but can still be subdued by their emotions. During what seems to be the film’s most heartbreaking climax, the death of Raven was a scene that made me cry the most. The truth comes out from her father, about his abandonment, his lack of love and care for Jean, that after her mother’s death, his world died. To him, Jean died with it. This was the moment of a girl lost, looking for her home, for her past only to come home to nothing, except for a father who lost hope, a father who was a coward. A father who failed to bring his own child home. I understood then why Jean cried, got angry and what made it convincing was Sophie Tuner’s ability to express herself, to express Jean’s mixed emotions. To turn herself into the Dark Phoenix. Jean soon confronts her other family, her friends and lies are unravelled and the truth comes out as Charles’s lie begins to break and crumble and he could no longer convince her to stay. In many failed attempts to get to Jean, by Charles’s command, Raven was up next. Jean and Raven’s conversation illustrates the ideas of the caring mother trying to understand what is happening to her child, to her family. The two-shot, going back and forth from Jean to Raven generates a sense of disillusionment and sustains this relationship between the two women. As Raven inches closer to Jean, the distortion effect created by this editing technique relates back to Jean’s disillusionment, her mind unable to differ from her reality and an illusion causing Jean to lose control killing Raven in the process.

Jennifer Lawrance and Nicolas Hoult’s performances during the moment when Raven slowly died cried out to me, it spoke to me. It made me cry. The way that they were framed in a close-up, the camera right in their faces was emotional. Hoult, having played Hank McCoy for four films has outdone himself on this one; how Hank rushes forward, his eyes never leaving Raven’s own. The camera lingers on Hank’s face and his reaction was the piece of what proves of Dark Phoenix’s most human qualities. Raven’s death was also the turning point to a chain reaction of frustration, grief and anger amongst Raven’s closest family and friends. Raven was the person that connected them all and having seen Raven grow in previous films, she had become a sister, a mother, a friend and a hero. The relationships she had obtained over the years especially to Charles, Hank and Erik was so deep so that when she died it was reasonable for their emotions of anger to explode, they had the right to feel angry, frustrated and to cry. To let out their emotions, to be just a human being. As well as this, like that of Elaine Grey, Raven was another mother who died with her eyes wide open.

Simon Kinberg called the movie a ‘family drama’ and he wasn’t wrong, From start to end, the movie delivered the promise of an emotional drama between family. It had begun with the loss of a family only to end with a family who is just beginning to heal. Jean lost her mother to the accident and loss her father to his emotional wounds. Jean found a new home with the X-Men but as dramas go, it idealises on the tragedies of life, the cruelness of fate and the reality in which we live in. None of these characters knew what life had for them, they went blindly through their lives not expecting anything. For Raven, she wanted to move on and so the universe heard her, and gave her what she wanted, a way out: in dearth. Raven never expected to die that day, she never thought of that moment, but what was tragic was she never knew what had become of Jean, what may her future become. The family drama heats up in the kitchen as Hank and Charles voice their emotional opinions, an argument only seen by my eyes like a brother vs brother in law unsettlement in its own soap opera. In a dark and cold tone colour, the kitchen that once was a place of life when Charles first met Raven, now feels empty, isolating and missing any forms of life. Hank increases his temper, demanding Charles, almost begging him to admit he was wrong, to see what he had become. In the end, in a tired and restless Hank, the truth come together and getting the last words the camera focuses on Hank’s face, Hoult’s facial expression filled with convincing anger and grief told Charles what he wanted to say:

“This whole time, we’ve been trying to protect these kids from the world, when really, we should’ve been protecting them from you”

This cold hard confession leads the friendship turning south as the last frame is Charles’s reaction where McAvoy produces a stunning pained expression for realizing what his friend really thought. In the same scene what I loved about it and a moment that made me also tear up was Hank’s own self-confession. The tragic loss of his lover, a memory he can’t forget had led him to blame himself for Raven’s untimely demise, and his language used in the dialogue reflects his emotional wounds, a feeling that had been echoed from John Grey’s own self sorrow. However, what sets him apart from Charles or Mr Grey was his courage to admit he was wrong, to face Charles and say he blames himself for Raven’s death, realizing him from this pain, not completely, but just enough to get Charles thinking, to help him realize that if he can do it then Charles may follow, except he didn’t leaving Hank displeased resulting to his own abandonment of the school, of Charles and abandoning what he stood for. A man of hope.

Dark Phoenix also holds up for its other antagonist, Vuk. An alien with her race searching for the power inside Jean and restart their lives here on earth. Jessica Chastain, a new member of this world of X-Men films, steps in nicely to the heels of Vuk. We first see Margret Smith, a bubbly and full of life women at the dinner party. What is striking is her dress. This costume choice made by the costume department is truly symbolic as from her platinum blonde hair and dress symbolises purity and innocence. This is later changed to a black dress covered with a black coat, symbolising evil and power which contrasts with her hair, remaining her trust and good intentions towards Jean. Speaking of costume changes, Jean too has a drastic costume change, going from grey tones to deep reds and dark purples; this too signifying change and in both physical and metaphoric sense Jean had risen from the ashes to become the Dark Phoenix. The relationship between Vuk and Jean is appealing and sends out an inside look at the means of manipulation. In her vulnerable state with no one to trust Vuk sweeps in to rescue Jean. Having seen Jean’s trust in the men in her life lose their purpose and with Raven dead, it seems that Vux is the one person who Jean can trust. Both being women and a person of understanding, trust and a person who listens, Jean is blinded from the signs of manipulation. The bar scene was intimidating and fills the void in Jean’s heart, the now empty space that is being filled by the words of this stranger. Chastain confidently speaks in a voice of reassurance as the words contrast between “scared little girl” to “the most powerful creature on the planet” making Jean believe she can help her, to understand her, unlike her X-Men. The scene ends with a malicious grin, a sign of deviance in the eyes of the stranger that Jean barely knows.

Living in Genosha, serving as a leader in protecting mutants is Erik Lehnsherr. He cares for those he can help and defines their purpose by living in harmony and peace. His scenes with Jean are an emotional moment and touching and serious moment between Michael Fassbender and Sophie Tuner only increases the tension higher as both actors come face to face trying to understand each other. Fassbender’s tone of voice is strong and determined, asking questions and demanding them on point while Tuner’s body language and emotional facial expressions echo the fragile and broken state that Jean is placed upon; Tuner continues to present a vulnerable Jean, a Jean that on the brink of disaster as Erik pesters her with questions, pressuring her in a moment of anger and unrest. With such intensity and visible interaction between the two mutants, the turning point was made clear as the distressed Jean Grey releases the Dark Phoenix. Genosha is now under threat by Phoenix and after seeing the destruction caused by Jean, Erik begins to express anger and loss of trust. He banishes Jean and it’s the expression that Sophie gave that projected on the screen so well; her confounded and pain faced quickly turned to a face of anger and rage. This scene alone quickly adds to the stress and frustration of Jean’s mental state. Abandoned by her father, by Charles, by Hank, by Scott and now Erik. Its no wonder why Jean chose Vuk, to trust the only who cares. Who doesn’t question but to only understand.

Alexandra Shipp, Kodi Smit-McPhee, Tye Sheridan and Evan Peters co-star next to their fellow X-Men showing off their characters abilities. Shipp and McPhee’s characters Storm and Nightcrawler engages with their powers and offer a fantastic display of true strength and human assets. Storm is unique here and produces more than just a storm. Demonstrating the role of a moral compass to Scott and a friend when he is in need and a companion for her friends and family. For McPhee, what is exciting to me was his innocence and maturity, the way he can be both funny and still grew as an adult. What made me cry during his part was something I least expected, a moment of reality hitting this young mutant and the moment when witnessing the death of a stranger whose kid will be left fatherless and a wife who is left widowed, he could not let his death be a left forgotten. This turns him to aggressively kill the aliens, unleashing a warpath between anyone who got in his way which presents a courageous act of heroism especially to avenge the man he barely knew. McPhee understands his character and acts with determination, the way he scrunches up his face with anger and fights back showing character development; going from an innocent, bewildered young mutant still discovering his true potential, to be able to defend himself and others in a selfish act of bravery as he returns the favour to the man who couldn’t save. For Scott Summers, death was already something he was used to; after his brother’s death, the loss of Raven and Jean was beyond what he can handle. His attitude had changed all those years ago now becoming part of something much bigger. A part of a team, a family. Tye Sheridan gets romantically involved with Sophie Tuner as Jean and Scott’s relationship develops love the ten years, seeing them caught up their love affairs.

Evan Peters, the man who plays the quick and quirky speedster, QuickSliver, had his role cut short. His role lacked in appearance and not enough of him shown however whether it is due to the pressure of the Fox-Disney deal and extensive reshoots deeming the editing team to cut and leave things out from what had been originally in the trailers to meet their deadline, yet for me, I believe the real answer lies in the moments of his rescue attempt in trying to save Jean. His injuries leaving him bloodied and bruised, deeming him unsuitable to service the X-Men in their further mission; for me, this was the ideal situation of any kind of reality from which people get injured, get hurt especially after such tragic events. Even Peters still manages to pull off Maximoff’s funny quirks, as for instance his line:

“I basically did everything. I mean, Jean did a little, like, towards the end. But it was mostly all me”

Peter’s actually improvised this and luckily it made it to the final cut. Furthermore, while people bicker about his nonappearance and lack of the big reveal of father and son but despite this all, I still cried. The uncertainty of his injury leaves questions in our minds on whether he is okay or whether it had left him permanently injured for good. To this effect, I was beginning to recognise a matter of human suffering, situations where life is cruel and unbearable, and by the end of the film, his fate is revealed and say how much he had rested over time. To allow time to heal his wounds. And for me, I never noticed his disappearance, I was probably still crying over past events, where the death of Raven and Jean’s distress state consumed my mind leaving me crying. My eyes sore by the end of the movie.

As the story continues, the fight for Jean is amongst them as they encounter each other face to face in 5th Avenue for their final battle. Both sides offer explanations, trying to counter each other as they reach for Jean. Soon the epic battle for survival and for Jean insures as friends turned to enemies and the world as the know it had fallen behind them. Every shot was intense, the lives of civilians in danger of rampaging mutants but what was hard not to notice was the battle going on with Hank and Scott, two mutants who just several years ago, fought together to save the world from Apocalypse. Now they are in ahead to head battle to either save Jean or kill her. The fight between McCoy and Summers is a moment of struggle between friends, of two men who had lost to much and now is on the brink of trying to do what is right. Hoult and Sheridan’s performances are spectacular showcasing the strained friendship that these two had once held. Hoult provides his Beast rage as his rough movements indicate power and speed to get to Jean. While this was going on, the night time scenery and low lighting create a murky mood, reflecting the mindset of the character and how they are feeling. Magneto’s costume, like Vuk, is black and never too complicated. This simple and slick design helps to camouflage Erik into the darkness, allowing him to easily get to Jean. What was also most engaging with this scene was the moments of the strength of Magento’s powers as he lifts the subway cart from the ground and brings it up the surface. The crew behind the visual effects had brought a high standing finish to Magento’s ultimate power. The cart emerging to the top of the street, keeping our eyes on the destruction down beyond as the crane shot view captures our attention slowly as the cart explodes from the ground. From this, a display of true strength shows Magento pulling the train through the entrance and having heard in interviews, that the train and wall were built and were real, the most worrying of all was that having one shot at this moment it appeared and it clearly showed in the scene how the train came six inches close to hitting actor Michael Fassbender. With such confidence and a heart of steel, he had never even flinched or blink as those bricks fell down, and now that is through perfect as Erik would say.

Jean and Erik's reencounter comes to an eye to eye contact between family once again. Both of them unleashes their gifts, with Magento making the first move. In a shocking turn when Erik couldn’t kill Jean, the Dark Phoenix within her sets free all hell on him. with a move of her hand, the most spine-chilling scene occurred as Phoenix crashes Erik’s helmet and it doesn’t help either with Fassbender’s straining eyes in a close-up, the pained and gritting way he clenches his teeth adds to the growing pain he is feeling. In suspended in motion, the helmet breaks and with one last gleam of rest Phoenix quickly finishes the job and throws Erik out of the window in a what would have been a back-breaking fall. In a rush to get to Jean, in another moment of family and hope, Charles reaches Jean. In a not so expected moment, Phoenix increases her power, lifting Charles towards her. This scene captives the agony of Charles where McAvoy does with such detail as he needs to be in pain. Beyond this scene, Charles tries to help Jean remember, to bring Jean back to her senses, to just remember who she truly is. Like all the memories, the sense of a dream-like blur and distortion effect offers a unique idea of what was true, what was Charles trying to protect her from. This for me enchants the human side of a family ready to heal, ready to accept forgiveness. Jean begins to understand as Charles becomes the better man in front of her father. It now all comes together as the scene between Charles and John becomes clear:

“Will you take her?” - Mr Grey

“Yes, I can help her in ways that you can’t”- Charles Xavier

“She can’t be helped. She’s a lost cause”- Mr Grey

“No, she’s not. As long as there’s someone who cares for her who believes, then there’s still hope”- Charles Xavier

The message of hope still rings throughout the X-Men films and it seems as though Dark Phoenix wasn’t going to let it side as well. It still continues to bring the message of hope to its audience especially in this case of giving hope to children, to children who need hope for life, a home and a family; just someone who cares, who believes in them. Someone who loves them for who they are. Switching to back to Jean, Vuk took an opportunity to take what was hers, she approaches Jean, carefully touching her and spoke about her future. Down with her vulnerable state, Jean shakes her head, tears beginning to fall from her strained eyes.

“I never asked for this. Any of it.” - Jean Grey

“I travelled the stars for a gift that you don’t want?”- Vuk

“Then take it. Please. Free me”- Jean Grey

Being fueled by fear and confusion of what she had become, she realizes the truth, how she never wanted this for anyone, not even for herself. She begs Vuk for release, for her freedom. With a nod, Vuk couldn’t agree more. The next few scenes empower Scott and begin to have the others dragged rather inhumanly by guards. The train scene keeps them locked together, trapped in the same place having no place to run or hide. Having this opportunity, being in this confined space gives Charles an opportunity finally admit he was wrong. He was ready to face Hank and Erik, to prove that Jean was not the villain, but he was, how he had failed Jean and everyone else all because of his ego, for wanting something he only wanted. The back and forth moment towards Hank and Erik’s faces shows at first the lack of interest, not willing to forgive just yet, but what was the turning point was what Scott had said, about Raven and what she would have wanted. For Hank, it had registered a spark of truth, for he never thought of what Raven would have wanted, to have wanted from him. it was time to step up, to save Jean. Moving from this, the battle begins to increase, both sides raging war against the other and it wasn’t long until Vuk joined the fight taking down their first defence. Soon she wrecks a trail of bodies as each one of Jean’s family drops down hurt and broken.

As Charles tries to wake Jean up, to learn to forgive her, Charles, in a heaven-like place, confronts eight-year-old Jean played by the wonderful Summer Fontana. While they talked, the scene that unfolds is arranged in a battle of protecting Jean, and the approaches of emotional connections made towards these characters as Jean and Charles talks. Fontana plays an innocent young girl, a girl who had finally found peace and has already forgive Charles. The light flares that bounces off and on the screen symbolizes the reflection of this being all inside Charles’s mind, a place of peace and serenity can flourish. For once in Charles’s mind, he speaks with reassurance and feels the guilt he had been feeling for so long, and they're staring right in front of him is the same eight-year-old girl he had talked to and promised to keep safe all those years ago. Charles understands what he had to do, he had to protect Jean, to keep her away from the trauma, the pain and give her what she deserves, what every child deserves…

“A family” Jean replies, nodding both with Charles. This conversation between chid and a father figure, both characters are freeing themselves from the pain they had to suffer as Jean recognises what she must do and understand that the lie that Charles told was done from the act of love, how he had loved her more than her own father that he was willing to lie. To save her from having to grow up being afraid of the world. with having the last say, Jean now knows what she must do. That is to:

“Protect My Family”

Just this simply three words had made such an impact, it had sealed the movie with its theme of family and what the family stands for. A family protects and cares for their loved ones, to love each other through hard times and that is what Jean will do. And shortly after this, Jean had woken, her mind ready to fight and what I had noticed was the moment when Charles held Jean’s hand, the sign of prayer and hope which I must confess made me tear up. As her promise to protect her family, they are soon encased in a bubble as the train carts disperse and fall back with devastating results. Soon, the final battle begins as Jean tries to protect her family. A family she couldn’t save before. As the battle insures, Jean, now being able to take control over her own fate sets loose on the remaining aliens, banishing them from the face of the earth. With warm and hot tones of red, orange and yellow adding to the flames around them, the exterior designs help to establish power and control as Jean as Phoenix fights to protect and serve. While thinking Vuk is gone for good, we would think wrong as Vuk returns but this time to truly take it by force. Now free from the chains that held her down for so long, she uses this force for her own advantage. In a spectacular display of face to face encounter with Vuk and Jean, the power to obtain the force becomes too much for Vuk. In her last attempts to achieve what she wanted, she uses Jean’s emotions to bring her down.

“Your emotions make you weak”

And with one last look at her family, the people that got angry because they care so much, she gives them one last nod and ends Vuk, sacrificing herself in the process. And with last one look, there was nothing that her family could do but watch as Jean takes the battle in her own hands, protecting them as she promised. In space, both women circle around, the camera spinning with them as Jean closes in on Vuk finishing with:

“You’re wrong, my emotions make me strong”

With this approval of both her mind and heart, Vuk finally is finally vanquished, leaving Jean to disappear among the stars, leaving on being the trace of a phoenix burning in the sky. From down below, its Erik’s sadden expression that is caught first, the way his face drops down to show a feeling of sorrow and mournful, thinking probably what he and said before to Jean. Soon Scott thinks of Jean, that she is now gone, like Raven. And yet it was Charles who spoke the truth, how she is now free, that she is no longer his little girl anymore and must set her free, like the phoenix she was meant to be. To make her own decisions, to control her own fate. In the end, it fades to black and the world seems at peace once again. The next scene leads to the epilogue, a bittersweet ending to what had been a long and severe battle over Jean whose sacrifice had led to their protection and survival. Her sacrifice wasn’t as much of heroic sacrifice as those like Tony or Natasha from Endgame, but it was that nod of her head as she looked at Charles one last time that showed how much she was loved, how she can trust them to be okay without her. Her sacrifice was never a heroic one a way to protect those she loves, to do it for them for she couldn’t those she loved the first time. what seems to be a couple of years later, in a scene of innocence and peace, the flowers by the gate that once was lined with red lilies are now white, a symbol of hope, innocence and purity as Scott reassembles the new sign for the school now under a new name: Jean Grey School for Gifted Youngsters. This change in the name is a good decision, a decision probably made by Charles as in the end its not only the family that has changed but the home does too and the school was the home that Charles gave to Raven and to Jean, a place both grew up and a place where they last stayed. To enable the school to continue without the past haunting him, the scene of Hank walking to his office says a lot of the changes that had been placed.

It is now another school year, a new term as the tracking shot moves around the school showing Strom teaching science, Kurt and Peter leading more mature leads and now Hank, the new Professor and Dean of the school now named after a friend he wouldn’t save. What was touching about this scene in the epilogue as well as the photo of Raven at this desk, the way Hank had it framed and this wasn’t only a touching moment but a prop that is a reminder that Hank had moved on, how everyone has and how they have learnt to find acceptance in this world of cruelty. Of course, they still feel grief and pain on the inside but as they say, time will heal all wounds and that’s what Simon had reflected here. But what was so intriguing and so beautiful in any shape of form was the concluding moment between Charles and Erik. An ending to where it had all begun. Now in Paris, Charles and Erik meet up in a nearby café with Erik wanting to place chess. Chess has been a sign of their everlasting war between their beliefs is now just a casual game between two long friends. For me, this wasn’t just a heart-warming and symbolic end to the relationship between friends but also, if I say so myself, a beautiful and romantic grand gesture of love and passion as Erik reminds Charles of how he saved him from the waters back in the year of ’62, how he had given him a home and now he wants to do the same for Charles. And if that wasn’t enough, Kinberg happily implies the words:

“I’ll go easy on you”

And Charles’s replies:

“No, you won’t”

With them ending the scene in laughter and quirky smiles. If this wasn’t Cherik enough them I don’t know what will. But Dark Phoenix had just become the moment when Cherik became canon. So, if Cuba was their Beach Divorce, then Paris would be their Chess Proposal. But as they start their game, the camera slowly tilts up, getting a glimpse of the Paris street and a hint of the Eiffel Tower and there off in the distance is a trail of a phoenix, a reminder that this isn’t the end of Jean, this is only the beginning.

Overall, Dark Phoenix was more drama and human then about superheroes. It was more than trying to save the world and more like trying to save a person from it. To save a family member from the pain and hurt of a childhood trauma. Dark Phoenix details what happens when a lie to protect becomes a lie that kills. How the ego kills relationships and how the death of a loved one allows grief and pain to spiral someone out of control, seeking revenge at the person who killed their close relation. Dark Phoenix was the movie that had made me feel like this journey had ended but will not be forgotten. To me, with its music score done by the very talented composer Hans Zimmer, and the brilliant minds of both Simon Kinberg and Hutch Paker, every detail and every piece of dialogue matter and had created a while and an emotional roller coaster filled with pain and heartbreak. It didn’t just tell a story about superheroes but a story about a family and about how a little girl had to grow up and face the truth of a lied that protected her all these years. What Simon had done was to explore human emotions and show the ideas of psychological and philosophical ideas of our mind and how we treat others as human beings.

By the end of the film, there is acceptance and the power of hope remains at the heart of the school and to the people around them, as well as to what the X-Men represent. And soon enough the film itself had taught valuable life lessons to take back home, to shape our minds about family and about ourselves. So in the end, I can say that I’m proud of this movie and deserves my full attention and receives five stars as a reward for its display of human beings, about family and about never losing hope especially to a child in need.

#xmen dark phoenix #dark phoenix #anaylsis #review #xmen #Best thing ever

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