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t0wnspersonb · 4 years

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Better Off As Lovers (Tsukishima Kei x Reader)

Word Count: 5,076

Warnings: SMUT, oral (female receiving), bad language, my shit writing

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salty4tsukki

said:

hello! i luv ur blog sm!! can i pls req a scenario (or hc if that’s easier) of tsukki and reader going from enemies to lovers? perhaps reader ended up doing tsukki a solid that saved his ass and that marked the turning point of their relationship? sfw+nsfw if that’s oki!! tysm in advanced :-)

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Here is some spice for you guys. I hope you like it, I had a lot of fun writing it lol. Tsukishima is such a fucking prick, I absolutely love it. @salty4tsukki I hope this was what you had wanted, also thank you so much for your support! Requests are closing tomorrow! I’m slowly but surely making my way through all of the requests and writing stuff up. I should probably be focusing on school but ya girl is avoiding responsibilities right now lmao. I hope you guys have a wonderful weekend!😚😚😚

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“You’re literally the fucking worst.” you hissed; eyes narrowed into slits. “I bet hell gave you back to earth because you’re worse than Satan himself.”

All you got in response was a raise of a blonde eyebrow and an ignorant smirk.

“You want to get hit? Is that what you’re asking for?” You threatened, holding your fist up for emphasis.

You had never been more upset; in all honesty you probably wouldn’t have been this annoyed about the situation if it was someone else.

But because it was him, you knew that it was intentional, it wasn’t an accident as everyone else was making it seem.

“Now, now…” Koganegawa said, stepping between the two of you. “Tsukki didn’t know that was your dessert. It was an honest mistake.”

“That’s not an honest mistake Kanji!” You screeched. “I literally told everyone how excited I was to finally get my hands on that famous strawberry shortcake from that bakery! I got the last slice and he went and ate it!” you pointed at the tall blonde accusingly; who’s smirk was growing wider and wider as you wailed about the unfairness of it all.

“Can’t you just go get another one?” Kyoutani huffed, rolling his eyes from his spot on the floor.

“They’re famous for a reason Kentarou! I had to get up super early to stand in line! And even then, the line was super long! I waited for hours! You think I’m going to do that again!?” You were all but hysterical now.

You might have already been having a rough day though, and your missing cake was the cherry on top to it all.

The soft huff of a laugh caused you to whirl around, your tiny fists coming up to hit Tsukishima on his chest repeatedly.

“You’re the fucking worst!” you huffed out, frustrated tears springing to your eyes. The tall blonde was full on laughing at you now, much to your embarrassment and anger.

You couldn’t lie, it was a tad bit irrational to get so upset over a missing slice of cake. But it was a long sucky day, you were looking forward to that delicious morsel of strawberry goodness after practice, and it wasn’t fucking there.

“You’re so weak,” Tsukishima mused, easily grasping your hands in his large ones, preventing you from hitting him further.

Despite his rude words, his grip was surprisingly gentle.

You still ripped your hands away from his in anger.

“Don’t touch me, you thief.” You growled, cradling your hands against your chest, eyes glaring into the tall male.

“You’re so annoying. I already apologized.” Tsukishima said, stretching his arms above his head.

“An apology won’t bring back my cake!” You snapped, grabbing your stuff from the floor. “You’re the worst Tsukishima. Let’s go already, Kentarou.” You huffed.

The said male rolled his eyes before saying goodbye to his teammates, following you out of the gym.

You were still fuming quietly as you two walked home together.

Funnily enough, you had developed a close friendship with the small male, which resulted in him walking you home since he lived close by.

“I hate him.” You whined, tugging at the bottom of Kyoutani’s team jacket.

He swatted your hand away, causing you to whine again, reaching for him once more, he sighed in irritation but let you hold onto his jacket this time.

“You guys just need to fuck already.” He said.

You stopped walking; causing Kyoutani to be yanked back since you were holding onto his jacket.

“What the fuck Y/n?” He growled.

“I would never in a million years have sex with someone like him.” You said, face twisting in disgust.

Kyoutani had definitely lost his mind with that comment. Tsukishima was your enemy, your opposite half, the worst person that you have ever met, there was just no way.

“Are you serious?” He asked deadpanned. “It’s so disgustingly obvious you two like each other.”

You rolled your eyes at him, releasing his jacket from your grasp as you guys continued walking. “You’re blind Kentarou, we hate each other.”

“I think you’re the one who’s blind Y/n. I’ll see you tomorrow for morning practice.” he said waving goodbye to you as you entered your home.

The rest of your night was plagued with thoughts of Tsukishima, leaving you with a bitter taste in your mouth despite the fact that you had brushed your teeth.

There was no way that Tsukishima liked you, nor you him. You did find him incredibly attractive, but who wouldn’t? He was tall and muscular, incredibly intelligent, and he was a good volleyball player.

Of course, people would find him attractive, but his personality was anything but, to you at least.

Your first ever interaction with him was entirely unpleasant, his mocking attitude and sarcastic comments left you with the worst impression of him, and it resulted in how you felt about him now.

But then… What did Kyoutani mean about you being blind?

You screamed loudly into your pillow.

****

“You look terrible.” Tsukishima raised his eyebrow at you, taking in your disheveled form.

“I didn’t get much sleep last night.” You muttered, rubbing at your eyes tiredly.

Tsukishima was actually quiet for once, somehow you had missed the flash of concern that shot through his eyes.

That didn’t go unnoticed by Kyoutani, who rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath how dense both of you were.

Practice ran smoothly, there surprisingly wasn’t any sarcastic comments directed at you from Tsukishima. For the most part, he left you alone today, much to your relief.

Now you were currently in one of the history classes you were a TA in. Between managing a volleyball team, and being a teaching assistant, it was no wonder you were always stressed out.

Funnily enough, Tsukishima was one of the students in that class.

“We’re going to hand back your midterm essays now.” The professor announced. You grabbed the papers from your folder and started walking around the class handing them back to the nervous students.

Your brows furrowed as you had realized that you only held three more papers in your hand, you hadn’t even given Tsukishima’s - oh. Your eyes widened slightly as you looked over at the tall male, he looked irritated, his eyes finding yours, there was a slight shake to his head.

He had never turned in the essay.

That’s right, the essay was due around the same time that volleyball practices were incredibly strenuous in preparation for some important matches.

But the midterm essay counted as a large portion of the grade, which meant that if Tsukishima received a zero, then he would fail the class, which meant that he wouldn’t be allowed to play volleyball any -

“I seemed to have made a mistake Professor.” You said. “I think I lost Tsukishima’s paper…”

What were you doing?

Shit, you could get in big trouble for this so why were you doing this?

“It’s not like you to be scatterbrained like this Y/n.” the Professor shook his head. “I swear you take on too many tasks, between this and being a team manager… Tsukishima, do you mind turning in the paper again to Y/n? Let us say… by the end of the day?”

“It’s no problem sir.” Tsukishima said quietly, eyes glancing over to you as you finished handing out the last of the essays.

“I’m sorry Tsukishima, I hope you can forgive me.” You said sweetly, bowing at him slightly.

What the fuck?

What the actual fuck were you doing?

Tsukishima was taken back by your tone and your show of respect towards him, that was new.

That was… shit was he blushing? He ignored the creeping heat in his face and the slightly quicker thump of his heart. He pushed his glasses up slightly. “It’s not a problem.” he said quietly.

You nodded at him once more as you made your way back towards the front of the room, ignoring the rising blush in your own face and the racing of your own heart. You got lucky that the professor really took a liking to you as his TA, you could get away with murder when it came to this class.

Tsukishima was incredibly lucky as well, he was the top student in this class, never missed any assignments, always participated in class, so of course the professor was going to be more lenient with him.

No one would have ever guessed that he had never turned in his midterm, except you.

That was something that you didn’t understand, why would you help him out?

It was because he was just part of your team, right? You were doing this because you wanted your team to succeed right? He was one of the best players you had, so if you lost him that would hurt the team… that was why, right?

Or maybe… maybe Kyoutani was right.

Maybe, just maybe, by chance you actually did harbor a small attraction to the tall blonde.

****

The rest of the day was seemingly uneventful, and you found yourself wrapping up the evening volleyball practice.

“Hey.” an all too familiar voice called out, a sudden shadow being cast over your small form as you began picking up the volleyballs on the floor.

You glanced up to see Tsukishima looking down at you, curiosity clear in his gold eyes.

“What is it?” You asked, ignoring the quickening of your heart. What was wrong with you?

“Why did you do that?” he asked, beginning to pick up the balls.

“What do you mean?” You sighed tiredly, you just wanted to go home. You had no energy left in your body to argue with the snarky male before you.

“You knew that I didn’t turn in the paper… why did you lie to the professor like that?” He asked quietly.

“Well…” your eyes slid over to him before looking down at the ball in your hands. “I knew that the professor would cut you some slack since you are one of his favorite students… plus… it would be bad if you got a zero, right? You would’ve failed the class…” You trailed off, your eyes glancing back up at him, taking notice to the small smirk that began to cover his lips.

“- and we can’t afford to lose one of our players! You’re tall and stupid but you’re a decent player so that’s why I did it! I didn’t want to hurt the team just because you were being stupid and forgetful!” You said, voice annoyed as you all but slammed the volleyball into his arms. “Hurry up and put those away, I want to go home.” you huffed, stalking away.

You hadn’t noticed the small smile that overtook his face as he watched you walk away.

“Are you ready to go?” You asked once you guys had finished cleaning up, Kyoutani nodded, grabbing his bag from the floor.

“Hold on.” a hand grabbed the back of your jacket, yanking you back into a warm and broad chest.

You blinked up to see Tsukishima peering down at you, eyebrows raised.

You could feel your face burn at his proximity and as you stumbled away from him.

“W-What is it now?” You stuttered out.

“Here. Professor said to give it to you by the end of the day. I just had to reprint it out.” he said, handing you his midterm.

Your eyebrows shot up. “Wait, you actually did the assignment?”

“It was already done, I just forgot to submit it.” he said, shrugging.

“And I thought you were just lazy and didn’t do it at all.” You said in awe, eyes skimming through the papers.

“Don’t put me in with the likes of you.” he snorted, eyes rolling, although there was an unseen fondness swimming within those golden orbs, unseen to you at least. It was entirely apparent to Kyoutani who seemed to have a larger scowl on his face.

“Shut up stupid! I’m going to grade your paper harshly now!” you hissed, glaring at him.

“You can try,” he drawled out. “But I did the assignment perfectly. I shouldn’t get anything less than an A.”

“We’ll see.” you snapped.

****

“Stupid Tsukishima. Does he have to be perfect at everything?” You grumbled to yourself as you finished grading his paper.

He was right.

He did the assignment perfectly.

You shouldn’t have said anything to the professor, especially if he was going to be so smug about it.

Why was he so infuriating?

You could see the flash of his smirk behind your lids when you blinked, it caused your heart to race, your fist to clench tightly together. You just wanted to slap that stupid smirk off of his stupid gorgeous face and -

Damn it.

It seemed like recently your thoughts were completely consumed by him.

“Speak of the devil.” You muttered to yourself when you noticed who was calling you.

“What do you want?” You hissed.

“Oh, good you are awake.” His rang smoothly through the speaker.

“Yeah because I stayed up late to grade your midterm, so I didn’t have to worry about it over the weekend.” You huffed, sitting back in your chair.

“Well what’s the verdict?” he asked smugly.

You could feel your nostrils flaring in anger at his tone. “You got an A. Which is surprising to me since you’re the biggest moron that I know.”

“I already told you not to lump into the same category as you.”

“I’m hanging up now.” you announced, your blood boiling at his comment.

“Wait. Go open your door.” he demanded.

You frowned. “Why would I do that?”

“Just do it and hurry up.” you could all but see his eyes rolling.

You huffed angrily, stalking over to your front door, and yanking it open to reveal the blonde male smirking at you.

You could feel your brows furrow as you tried to register what was happening.

Tsukishima, your enemy, was standing at the front of your home, cladded in his team jacket and joggers, and he was holding a bag.

“Took you long enough.” he said, removing the phone from his ear and stepping past you into your home.

He was already removing his shoes and placing them on the shoe rack near your front door, heading towards your kitchen.

“Are you just going to stand there all night?” he called out, never looking back.

That comment snapped you out of your confusion, you quietly closed the door, following after the blonde that was beginning to make tea like he was in his own home and not someone else's.

“What are you doing?” You asked quietly, eyes following his every movement.

“Just be quiet and sit down.” he said simply, and for some reason… you actually listened.

You wracked your brain for all the reasons as to why Tsukishima was in your home this late at night, using your kitchen.

You snapped back to reality when he placed a plate and a mug in front of you.

Your eyebrows raised slowly, but you couldn’t help the twinkle in your eyes as you gazed at the treat before you.

A slice of cake, but the strawberry shortcake from that bakery to be exact. The sweetness of the strawberries and cream, along with the earthy scent of the tea, caused a delicious warmth to swell up in your body.

“How did you -”

“It’s a thank you.” he cut you off, pulling up a chair across from you, tea and cake sitting in front of him. “For helping me out with the paper.”

You couldn’t help the smile that began to stretch across your lips, Tsukishima seemed shy almost, embarrassed maybe? Whatever it was, it was a pleasant change from his usual scowl and smirk.

“Did you wait long?” you asked quietly, carefully cutting into the cake. “They aren’t even open at this hour…”

“No, the line wasn’t too bad, I went after practice finished.” he said, glancing over at you. It was a partial lie, Tsukishima did wait a long time, but he did go after practice had finished.

“Why did you wait this long to come over then?” you asked, sighing in pleasure as you took a bite.

There was a reason why this bakery was so famous for their strawberry shortcake, it was the best cake you had ever had.

“I thought you might’ve been too busy in the evening, since you promised coach you would hand in those data forms tomorrow… and the in class activity we did today… you said you would grade tonight and get it back to us Monday…” he trailed off quietly, cutting into his slice.

You blinked at him, the thumping in your heart increasing.

Since when was he so observant with you?

“Since always. You’ve just never noticed.” he said, gold eyes boring into your own.

You could feel your face heating up, shit, did you really ponder that aloud?

What was this feeling bubbling up in your gut? It burned and turned pleasantly the longer you stared at him.

A sudden shyness washed over you as you broke eye contact, eyes casting back down to the cup of tea that was now resting between your hands.

“O-Oh.”

It was silent again, it wasn’t awkward, but there was definitely something lingering heavily in the air.

You just couldn’t place your finger on it.

“You have something…” Tsukishima began to say, suddenly reaching over, his strong fingers gently grasped your chin, tilting it up, thumb beginning to brush at the corner of your lips.

Without even thinking about it, your tongue darted out, swiping across his thumb, tasting the saltiness of his skin and the sweetness of the cream that had lingered at the corner of your mouth.

Tsukishima’s eyes darkened considerably; air rushing out of his nose as he exhaled deeply. His thumb rubbing against your lower lip.

Your eyes glazed over, lips parting slightly, inviting him entrance to your mouth. Tsukishima’s thumb pushed past your lips, resting on your tongue. Your eyes fluttered shut, your tongue gently running along the pad of his thumb.

You could feel the blood roaring in your ears, your stomach twisting in arousal.

“Fuck.” he whispered, the sound of a chair being pushed back, his thumb leaving the wetness of your mouth.

It all happened so fast, by the time you had opened your eyes Tsukishima was hauling you out of your chair and up on the counter. His large hand grasped your face firmly before slamming his lips against yours.

You gasped, allowing his tongue to snake his way in, exploring every inch of your wet cavern.

You couldn’t help the moan that tore through your throat, your arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders, fingers sliding into the blonde locks at the back of his head, your legs wrapping around his hips.

Fuck, you couldn’t get enough of this. He was everywhere, warm and solid against your body; all you could smell was him, all you could taste was him and fuck did he taste good. You could still taste the sweetness of cream on his tongue, the tartness of the strawberries, and him.

It was intoxicating.

You were drowning in everything that was Tsukishima and fuck did you like it. The way his big hands gripped at your face, your waist, pulling you closer, kissing you deeper, it was too much.

But it also wasn’t enough.

“What are you - ahh - what are you doing?” you whimpered out, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he trailed his hot lips against your throat, sucking and biting at every inch of it.

“What do you think I’m doing you idiot?” he breathed against the shell of your ear. He grinded his hips against yours causing the loud moan to escape your lips, he was hard against you.

“I don’t…” you whined softly as he grabbed your hips, pressing you tightly against his crotch, grinding against you sinfully. “I don’t understand… Tsukki… Kei.” you whined again, hips bucking up on their own, aching for more friction.

Fuck you were so wet, so hot and bothered, you needed him to touch you more.

“Fuck.” he hissed out, eyes squeezing tightly together as you whined out his name. “Fuck… you’re so infuriating. You still don’t get it do you?” he growled out, nipping at your lobe as his ragged breathing increased.

You couldn’t muster up any words, all that escaped your lips was a drawn-out moan as one of his hands reached up and massaged one of your breasts harshly.

“I like you, Y/n. I’ve liked you since the very beginning. But you never… fuck…” he hissed as you slipped a hand under his shirt, nails dragging against his smooth skin. You could feel the muscles of his stomach flexing beneath your touch, the pace of his hips increasing against yours.

“You never noticed.” he finally growled out, reaching up and yanking your shirt off your body. “The only time you ever paid attention to me was when I made you mad, you simple minded woman. It’s so easy to get you riled up…” he kissed you harshly now, teeth knocking together before he bit into your lip harshly, causing your nails to dig further into his chest.

“But then in class when you lied straight-faced to the professor… and then when you looked at me with that sweet expression, and those wide eyes… I couldn’t help but wonder what other kinds of faces you can make for me.” he finished quietly. His breathing was labored, and his lips were swollen but the intensity of his gaze caused your body to squirm.

“What do you say?” he asked, his voice deep and rough, his grip on you was still tight, but his hips had stilled, he was pulled back slightly from you, allowing you space to breathe.

“Please.” You whimpered out, tears springing up in your eyes, you were too riled up now, body too hot and aching for release.

You needed him. You needed Tsukishima to touch you more, you needed him to whisper filth into your ear, you needed to feel his skin sliding against yours, and most of all, you needed him be buried deep inside of you.

“I need to hear you say it Y/n.” He grasped your jaw, angling your face up to his as he stared down at you. “Say it.”

You could feel your lower lip quivering, you were aching for it, aching for him. “Kei please! Just - just fuck me already!” you wailed. “What are you waiting for!? Just fuck m-” he yanked you off of the counter, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he carried you to your couch, dropping you down haphazardly before his hands were everywhere, ripping the clothes off your body until you were completely bare.

He stared shamelessly at your nakedness, eyes running over every curve of your body. His hands rested on your bent needs, pulling them open and staring openly at your glistening cunt.

“Don’t look.” you whimpered, moving one of your hands to cover yourself up. He easily knocked your hand away.

“Don’t hide yourself from me.” he said as he moved to remove the rest of his clothing.

Tsukishima was beautiful, long, and lean, his muscular frame exposed to your greedy eyes as you scanned his body.

Your lips trembled at the sight of his stiff member, leaking precum and standing painfully tall.

He grasped his cock lazily, his hand easily sliding up and down his shaft as he gazed down at you. His other hand reached down to gather the obscene amount of wetness that was gathering between your legs.

“You’re soaked,” he moaned, eyes flashing dangerously. “You want me to fuck you? Or do you want me to taste you?”

You could feel your mouth run dry at his questions.

Tsukishima’s eyes narrowed slightly, his large hand coming down to swat at your thigh. You gasped the stinging sensation, your arousal spiking dramatically.

“Answer me.” he demanded.

Your lips trembled, eyes glazing over with unshed tears, you were so pent up, you needed something, anything that would provide you with some kind of release.

It was only for a moment, but there was a flash of gentleness, the hand that had swatted at your thigh rubbed at the skin tenderly.

“You’re so beautiful.” he said quietly, and then he was moving to situate himself between your legs, grasping at your thighs before his head ducked down and his hot tongue licked a strip up your soaked slit until it rested on your clit.

You moaned loudly; your head being thrown back as your body trembled with pleasure.

His tongue lapped lazily against you, flickering up and down against that swollen bundle of nerves, occasionally dipping further down, sliding into your entrance, tasting you completely before sliding back up.

It didn’t take long for you to get close to your orgasm. Your body was taut, aching for release. It was too much almost; your fingers tangled tightly in his hair, you couldn’t tell if you were pushing him away or pulling him closer.

All you knew was that he was giving you everything right now. Tsukishima pulled your clit into his mouth now, sucking hard, his front teeth gently brushing against it.

Your legs were tense, thighs quacking as you approached your release, the quiet room was filled with your drawn out moans and pants, wet slurping noises escaping your lower half as Tsukishima all but devoured your cunt completely.

You came with a cry, body convulsing against the cushions of the couch, thighs trying to close together, squeezing tightly against Tsukishima’s head. You whimpered brokenly as you tried to wiggle yourself away from the blonde that was still sucking at your clit, but his grip was tight, refusing to let you go, forcing your over sensitive cunt to produce another orgasm.

In the midst of it all, he yanked himself away, lining his stiff cock against your swollen entrance and then snapping his hips forward, sheathing himself inside of you completely.

A loud cry tore through your lips, you were still in the middle of your orgasm when he entered, your slick gushing out around him and spilling onto the cushions below.

“Are you gonna cum again?” he breathed watching you in awe as you struggled to adapt to his size.

“Fuck you are.” he moaned, your tight walls fluttering around him as your third one ripped through your body. “I can’t believe you came again just from me entering you.” he breathed out, hands resting on your hips.

Tsukishima gave you no time to adjust, his hips snapping forward harshly as he set a brutal pace.

You could feel your eyes rolling into the back of your head, your fingers gripping at the couch, needing something, anything to hold on to.

His cock rubbed against your walls perfectly, your body having no time to keep up with his movement, the stretch burned, the pleasure toe curling. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, pulling him in deeper, keeping him closer.

Suddenly your world shifted, Tsukishima hauled your body up, forcing you to sit on top of his thick member. You cried out loudly, this new position caused his cock to rub up inside of you at a new angle.

He never stopped, his large hands gripped at your hips now, forcing you up and down as you rode him, his hips snapping up to meet the downwards roll of your hips.

All you could do was grip at his broad shoulders weakly, struggling to keep up with his pace, struggling to adjust to the new depth that he reached within you.

But you couldn’t. You could hardly breathe, you couldn’t think of anything except for Tsukishima and the pleasure he was giving you.

“Look at you.” he groaned, eyes never leaving your face. “You make the sweetest faces when I’m inside of you.”

“Kei…” You sobbed. “Please.”

You weren’t sure what you were asking for at this point, the pleasure was mind numbing, the room was filled with sounds of your moans and his grunts, the wet squelching noises of your cunt as it was being stuffed over and over again was something that might’ve embarrassed you if you had the time to even think about it.

But you didn’t, all you could think about was unraveling again, all you could think about Tsukishima Kei. Your enemy, the most annoying man you had ever met, but he was also the most intelligent man you had ever met, the most beautiful man you had ever met, and now he was the only man that you ever wanted to receive pleasure from.

You came again with a loud sob, gushing around him, dripping onto his upper thighs, body trembling against his as you collapsed on top of his chest.

He groaned your name loudly, thrusting up sharply into your cunt once more before spilling himself into your hot center.

It felt like time had stopped around you as you struggled to catch your breath. You weren’t sure how long it was that you guys stayed like this.

But you have never been more tired, more comfortable in your entire life than right now.

You could feel your eyes drooping down, your face buried into the crook of his neck, his long fingers gently tracing delicate patterns into the skin of your back.

Tsukishima shifted, easily picking you up, your legs wrapped around his waist, his member still buried deep inside of you. You vaguely remember answering his question about where the bathroom was and soon you found yourself perched up on the bathroom counter.

You could feel his cum slowly leaking out of your swollen cunt, trickling down your leg as he gently cleaned you up. You didn’t even remember how you ended up in your bed, but now you were curled up against the tall blonde, wrapped up in the security of his arms as he rubbed your back gently.

“I still hate you Kei.” you mumbled against his chest, sighing softly before pressing your lips into his smooth skin.

“I know.” he smirked against your hair, pressing a gentle kiss on the crown of your head. “Go to sleep. We’ll go and get breakfast tomorrow.”

Okay maybe you didn’t hate him, but he was still infuriating to you.

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

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sleeping beauty

— You struggle to find a time to have sex with your beloved Aizawa. Unfortunately or fortunately, the only time you can fuck him is when he’s deep asleep.

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pairing: aizawa shouta x yandere fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, pwp, yandere!reader, non-con somnophilia, hairy aizawa rights, recording

word count: 4,201

a/n: mark ur calendar, im getting my nipples pierced nov 8. you bet ur ass imma write a bunch of nipple pierced readers from there on out. pray that my family never finds out about my nipples tho LMAO if they do,,, it;ll be ripped out of my boobies without a seconds hesitation

kinktober day 19 main kink: somnophilia | kinktober masterlist

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Aizawa was always busy.

Over the past ten years of knowing him, the two of you had been close. You were a good friend to him, someone he wouldn’t absolutely avoid at all costs when you walked through the hallways of UA, someone he wouldn’t mind rambling to him about their long day. Of course, you knew that you weren’t his closest friend, and to a certain degree, that upset you.

You had met Aizawa when you had first been a high school student; at the time, you were merely fifteen years old. He was twenty, only five years older than you, but he took your breath away from the first team-up. He had been tall, dark, and brooding, and your little coming out of an emo phase heart stood no chance. But, due to the age discrepancy, he was never anything more than a team member. Still, you held on.

You graduated from high school, made your impact as a sidekick, graduated to a Pro Hero, and offered a job at UA by the time you were twenty! So, for the past five years, you and Aizawa had been actual co-workers, and better yet, friends.

Aizawa indeed was one of a kind.

He still held the key to your emo school girl fantasy daydream, but you also discovered new sides and angles of him. You learned he was incredibly kind, thoughtful, and looked out for everyone, even if his gruff and sometimes rude mannerisms spoke otherwise. Although he tried to avoid any type of nonsensical drama like the plague, he was always caught up in it, which often amused you.

There was so much about Aizawa that you loved, so much that you adored and looked up to that it was no surprise that you figured your feelings of respect and admiration became love.

True, deep love.

As a third-year teacher at UA, you found that your interactions with Aizawa were quite limited. Not only because he was always being placed with a first-year class and said class moving on without him — something that only happened because he kept expelling the damn students — but because he was incredibly close with the first-year teachers.

You loved Present Mic and Midnight and All Might, don’t get it wrong! Your admiration, love, and respect for them were unprecedented, but you hated how much of Aizawa’s time they took.

“Sorry, Mic needs help with lesson plans for my class,” Aizawa apologized for postponing your lunch date, not a date.

“Sorry, Midnight needs help separating the problem children. Apparently, they’re growing an immunity to her quirk,” Aizawa grumbled, shoving his phone into his pocket before leaving your office where you both had been talking and drinking tea.

“Sorry, All Might—”

“It the class, your problem children, I get it,” you force a smile onto your face, trying not to show just how irritated and disappointed you were on how these days were going. Aizawa pauses for a second, his tired, dried out eyes trying to read and uncover the depths of emotions swimming in your eyes before he sighs and runs off.

But it went without saying that the people you hated most were Class 1-A.

The damn stupid, fucking, ungrateful class had already caused your beloved Aizawa to be hospitalized. The scar under his eye, a numbing reminder that you had nearly lost him, almost had to cry at his coffin with your feelings never once being uttered. They, without a doubt, took up his time the most.

He saw potential in all of them, none of them being failed or expelled by him thus far.

He spent countless hours up in the dead of night tracking each and every one of his student’s potential. Slaving away at his tablets to make sure that they all were feeling safe, heroic, and above all, they were headed to their individual greatness. So, although it would be two more years before you would have the opportunity to teach this class, you already had a vendetta against Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki. Those little shits always taking up your precious Aizawa’s time! He had never been this tired prior to them showing up!

But you never tried to think about it when you were with him.

You tried to openly accept your Aizawa’s new, incredibly busy schedule, and the moment the dorms appeared within UA, you found yourself more at ease.

To be frank, since you acknowledged your love for Aizawa at the mere age of twenty, and now at twenty-five, you had never taken on a lover or a one night stand. For years you had not allowed a person to grace you in bed or in their arms. It felt like you were betraying your love, and you would rather die than let that happen.

But the thing is, you are human, entirely susceptible to waves of uncontrolled horniness and lust.

In the beginning, sex toys worked.

You would press a vibrator to your clit, your toes digging into the mattress as your other hand shoved a silicone dildo into your aching, needy cunt. At first, it worked! You would cum with the thoughts of Aizawa being the dildo buried deep within you.

But eventually, you would find yourself at the peak of that orgasm, you knew the orgasm was right beyond the bend, just a step more, but you couldn’t get there. For weeks you realized that the vibrator, the dildo, and your fantasy thoughts weren’t enough. So, in your frustration, you began to search up audio plays of his narration at UA Sports Festival. Listening to his voice, ignoring Mics’ voice, to help coax you over that bend.

For a while, you were back to normal. Your highs and juices splattering all over your bed, a symbol of your lust and love for Aizawa as you gasped his name, wishing that the audio was real. But eventually, even the audios weren’t enough.

You craved Aizawa’s warmth, the feeling of his rough stubble against your sensitive skin, the throbbing of his cock buried deep within your womb, undoubtedly kissing your cervix. You wanted him; you needed your beloved.

As if by the grace of God, the moment you could no longer bring yourself to cum through that alone, the dorm system was put into place. And you, a teacher, were required to live on campus too. You tried not to think of Aizawa being a dorm away, tried not to feel the warmth fluttering under your skin when the two of you bid goodnight for the day.

You definitely tried to stay out of his room in the middle of the night.

God, you wish you could say that you stayed out of his room, but that would be a lie.

A big fat fucking lie.

It had started out innocently enough, you will claim.

You would see the exhausted man wave goodnight, grumbling that he needed to sleep now or else he would not wake up on time for homeroom tomorrow morning. You waved goodnight to him, trying to stay engrossed in a conversation you were having with Hound Dog. But an hour after Aizawa had gone to bed, you found yourself rushing away from the common room, explaining you had something to grade as you bid everyone goodnight.

Without a doubt, you ended up in Aizawa’s room that night.

In the darkness of the night, you watched the moonlight barely breach the thickness of his curtains to fall onto his face. You felt so warm as you stared at his slumbered face, your cheeks flushed as you watched his parted, chapped lips. You felt so light watching his chest rise and fall in a hypnotizing rhythm, reminding you that he is real, so very, very real. A part of you aching, knowing that he was entirely real and yet not yours. But still, you admired the way he looked so young, so intense, so ethereal as he dreamed.

You loved him.

Eventually, when you decided to leave, you pressed a kiss to his lips, smiling at the way his lips were exactly as you had imagined:

Supple, warm, and tasting of his mint toothpaste.

But the nightly visits didn’t stop there.

Most nights, you found yourself in his room, laying by his side, merely watching as he slept. No orgasm in the world felt quite as fulfilling as the quiet that came with just watching the over-exhausted Aizawa sleep.

But this is not a story of simple love, no, not at all.

Eventually, you began to grow bold. Your fingers sinking into your wet cunt, playing with your sensitive clit as you watched him sleep. You bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning as a rasped breath expelled from his mouth. You nuzzled into the warmth of his body heat through at you and only prayed he would one day acknowledge and return your affections.

To be quite honest, you’re not sure when you began to suck him off too.

Maybe it was the first time his cock grew long and hard in the middle of the night, his mind undoubtedly having a wet dream. So, as his beloved, you only thought it was appropriate to give his body what he wanted. With the skills and intentions that could only arise from being a gifted Pro Hero, you pulled the blankets from his body and pushed his cock through the slit in his boxers, and took him all in your mouth.

His cock was absolutely mouthwatering too.

So big, so thick, so incredibly veiny that you nearly lost all control the first time you saw it in all its glory. He was better than any dildo you owned, his scent alone driving you crazy. And so, as you should, you began to fuck him, completely addicted to his aroma, taste, and touch.

After the first night, you continued to blow him. Continued to suck him off as Aizawa let out sleepy moans, grunts that were strained, his body shifting unknowingly as you continued to go up and down his length, continuing to relieve him of his stress.

But you were human.

A human with needs and desires, and eventually, his cum coating your throat and filling your stomach wasn’t enough anymore. Which is where we find ourselves now, unashamedly fucking Aizawa each and every night, your cunt swallowing him whole, without a single shred of doubt of what was wrong with this.

There wasn’t anything wrong with this, and you knew that even if he was asleep the entire time you fucked him, it was for the better.

“Wow, Eraser!” Mic yelled from your side as you sat on the couch next to your beloved best friend. “You look like you’re glowing!”

Looking up from your phone, attempting to portray yourself as curious and unknowing, you found your gaze falling onto Aizawa, who had returned from an early evening training session with his class. As a matter of fact, Aizawa’s face was glowing; he looked incredibly much more relaxed, much more than he has been since the beginning of this semester.

“What do you mean?” Aizawa asked, evidently unimpressed as a lone eyebrow raised.

You watched on quietly, lips pressing to your cup as you took a drink of your tea as he sank onto a seat in front of you.

“Wait, don’t tell me, listeners!” Mic gasped dramatically, his hands pressing to his cheeks as he stood up. His expression of shock and disbelief curling and becoming one of knowing and understanding. “Does our grouchy, one and only, Aizawa Shouta, a.k.a. Eraserhead, have a special someone?!”

“Mic—” Aizawa snapped, his eyebrows furrowing.

“There definitely has been an after-sex glow that Eraser has had for the past few weeks. He did say that he’s been feeling more… ahem, relaxed,” Midnight gasped, seemingly appearing from nowhere, incredibly interested in the rumor of Aizawa having sex.

“Just because I’ve been feeling less tense doesn’t mean that I’m having sex.”

You giggled into your cup as the three of them began arguing, Mic and Midnights naturally loud noise quickly drowning out Aizawa’s fruitless attempts to shut down any sexscapades they were coming up with.

“Y/h/n, what do you think?!” Mic yelled, his hand pointed at you as if holding a microphone as Aizawa had him pressed and tangled within his capturing weapon. “Is Shouta-chan having sex?!”

Yes, your mind begs to say, but your mouth curls into a teasing smile, eyes locking onto Aizawa’s annoyed golden ones.

“I don’t think there’s anyone on this earth that Aizawa currently wants to fuck six feet into the mattress when he’s so busy,” you chide, your smile never entirely disappearing. At the same time, you take a long slow drink from your cup while everyone else (Mic only, really) continued to scream.

But you stayed there for the rest of the evening, working in silence with the rest of the group as next week’s lessons were laid out. Through a persistent, entirely stubborn will, Mic managed to get Aizawa to admit that he hasn’t had sex since the time he lost his virginity, to which Mic admitted to having had sex via orgies only. Midnight proudly announcing that she had a side piece at her disposal.

So as you checked through your lesson plans for the ethics book your students would be reading next week, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see their expectant gazes on you.

“I had sex last night,” you admit, unable to lie under their amused gazes.

“WITH WHO?! ARE YOU SNEAKING SOMEONE ON CAMPUS?!”

For the rest of the night, you smiled brightly, laughing with the rest of them all as talks and stories revolving around sex filled the air. It lasted until past midnight, and with a heavy sigh, Aizawa excused himself first. You waved goodnight, and soon Midnight left, followed by Mic.

You stayed on the couch, your own attention focused heavily on the time and not what you were supposed to be doing. It didn’t take much before the time faded from 00:00 to 01:45, and with a brush of your skirt, you headed precisely where you wanted and needed to be.

The walk to his second-floor room filled you with lust. Your body, like some Pavlovian dog, trained and knowing that you were about to fuck the love of your life while he slept. He was so beautiful while he slept, a true sleeping beauty. You especially thought he was stunning when he bit his lower lip, stifling a moan despite his heavy slumber.

Without so much as a second thought, you apparated into his room, your feet cushioned by the soft carpet of his room. And with a smile that was dripping with your love, you stared at Aizawa’s sleeping form. He was already deep in sleep, his body positioned on his back as if he knew what you were doing, accepting the inevitable actions you would take tonight as you did every night. He just looked so calm, so beautiful, so youthful when asleep. The scar under his eye almost invisible

But unlike most nights where he slept in a soft cotton long-sleeved shirt and sweats, you froze at the sight of the tight black t-shirt on his sleeping form, the shorts that were riding just the slightest bit too low on his sturdy, muscled hips. Your bit your fist, a bubbling heat of lust, and a whine tickling the back of your throat as you take in his sleeping form.

He was doing this on purpose.

Teasing you with this outfit on his sleeping body.

You huffed, inexplicably turned on as the small puffs of air past his lips seemed to thunder around the room.

You were wet already, so very wet.

“You’re so mean, Shouta-kun,” you whimper softly, your voice silent and unheard by his sleeping form. You walk closer to the bed, lips pulled into a pout as you sit on the soft mattress. “Dressing up like that, I know you did that to tease me!”

Aizawa doesn’t respond because, of course, he’s asleep. But you smile regardless, imagining a million and three things he would say in response, each leading to what you wanted to do so desperately.

“I hope you know you were lying when you said you haven’t had sex since you were twenty,” you sigh, your fingers expertly removing his shorts and boxers from around his waist, using your quirk to make them reappear to the side of him. “We have sex practically every night; you’re so horny, my angel.”

You watch with a curling smile as his cock immediately begins to stiffen against your warm breaths, his face scrunching in his slight discomfort as his cock grows and grows. His cock is undeniably one of your favorite parts of his body. It’s pale in color, paler than the rest of his body, but as it extended to the swollen thickness of his head, it grew darker, the flushed brown pinkness of his head making you salivate at the memory of the first time you ever saw it. His cock, unlike the rest of his scarred body, was unharmed, unmarred by the horrors of the job the two of you held. The thick, beautiful smoothness of his skin, making your eyes flutter in unadulterated lust, his cock a symbol of your pure, unmarked love for him. You hum, hand grasping his length and lazily stroking him as your head tilts, reading his sleeping features for any sign of him enjoying this as much as you do.

“Aww, Shouta-kun, I wish you knew I fuck you. I bet you would turn bright red, knowing that I ride you every night. Maybe you’d use that weapon of yours to teach me a lesson or two,” you mumble, your hand gripping his cock harder as you stroke him.

A small glistening drop appears at the slit of his dick, and you shiver in excitement; he was already leaking pre-cum.

“Look at you, already ready to have my cunt wrapped around that big cock of yours,” you mewl, absolutely ready to mount him, prepared to have his sleeping form cum deep within you. You stand up, removing your shorts and panties, and climbing onto the bed.

With the balance of a pro, you get yourself hovering over him, your already wet cunt shivering with the expectance of having him deep within you. Your hand on his cock never once stopping as you tease yourself against his swollen head, your voice a pathetic whimper as your slick mixes with his clear pre-cum.

“S-See how embarrassing you are!” you huff, rutting his length between his folds, lubing him up for the initial entrance because, by god, it still hurt. “Making my pussy so wet! I’m practically dripping all over you!”

There’s only a soft breath from his lips, but you grin as if he was speaking to you.

“You want me too, huh?” you giggle, and without further adieu, you sink against him.

His cock entering your tight cunt was still as mind-numbing as the first time. His cock easily buries into the small, thin wall of your cervix, and you tremble as his length stretches and pulls at your throbbing core. You can feel every curve in his cock, every vein, every gentle throb.

“Glad t-to know you find me… nnghh… find me i-irresistible,” you pant, face flushed with your desire to adjust quickly around him.

The conversation from tonight had made you entirely weak in the knees and hot at your core, knowing that you were the only one to really have claimed Aizawa, the only one who would ever know how his sleeping body craved you as much as you desired him.

You give a tentative swirl of your hips, your eyes trained on Aizawa’s relaxed ones, testing to see how tired and sleepy he was. There was no reaction, no movement outside of the typical grunt at the back of his throat. It was a noise he always made when you first moved with him, a noise that quickly seared in the back of your memory forever.

Shifting your weight to be more comfortable on your knees, your hot hands fall onto his tight chest, and with a sigh of pure relief, you begin to fuck him.

Your straddling aided the deep penetration, allowing for the gentle kiss of the tip of his leaking cock to your thin cervix wall. You clenched tightly around him, unable to keep yourself from doing so as you rode him, the feeling of his throbbing member within you absolutely breathing taking as you placed your claim on him again, again, and again.

Aizawa was fully sheathed within you, and your fingers twisted and pulled at the tight fabric of his shirt, raising it up so that you could admire his taut, tense abdomen, mewling at the way he’s happy trail was thick and bushy. You wondered how he would react to your fingers threading through his body hair, if he would love it; if he would hate it.

“I want you to know how much I love you, how much I would give everything to you!” you whimper, your head fighting the instinct to throw itself back as you begin to drop onto his still cock faster and faster. “I wish you knew that you fuck me so good, Shouta-kun; I need you to know that! But you won’t even look at me! You won’t spare me a single second of your busy day, so that’s why I have to fuck you at night!”

Tears of both pleasure and hurt well into your eyes; you sniffle as you fuck him faster, dropping onto his awaiting cock with more significant, more aggressive slaps. The sounds echo throughout the room, the musky, sweet smell of your sexes is the only thing keeping you sane — that and the grunting noises that Aizawa keeps emitting, it makes your toes curl and belly flutter in a funny way.

“I bet you’ll fuck me so good once I get you to love me! You’ll never stop fucking me, you’ll never want to leave me because only I know how to fuck you correctly!” you snap, anger and lust licking through your tone, making your eyebrows furrow and your walls to clench even tighter around him. The building tension in your stomach is like a fire, and you can feel your high coming. “But you fuck me so good, baby, so good and you’re not even awake!”

And for the first time, you watch in electrifying pleasure as a low, husky, raspy moan leaves his throat as you fucked him. The sound alone was something downright pornographic to you, and the whine that spills from your mouth is nearly inaudible with the pitch it vibrates at. So without so much as a second thought, a bubbling smile spreads on your face, and you continue on, energy and excitement doubled in your joy.

Your hips roll, rise, and fall against his with growing force and speed. The small creaks of the mattress completely ignored by you as the throbbing and twitching of his cock buried deep within you keeps you pushing for more. The heat and pressure in your belly grow exponentially, festering and burning until you can feel yourself at the tipping point until you can’t do anything but focus on Aizawa and only Aizawa, or else you would scream his name in your euphoria.

The veins on his cock and the overall girth of his length send your mind spinning, not at all helping your predicament, and in a last-ditch effort to keep yourself from crying so loudly you would wake up even the dead, you lean forward. Your sweaty body leaning down to his parted chapped lips as you kiss him to keep yourself silent as your orgasm crashes through you in a blissful wave. Your body spasms almost uncontrollably, the nerves and firing axons through your body uncontrollable as you lay there, allowing for Aizawa to cum before you leave. You shudder at the feeling of his cum emptying out within you, his cock immediately softening as you lay there on top of him. His heart racing with his orgasm, and you sigh contentedly.

“God, I love you so much, Aizawa Shouta; I’ll make you mine one day,” you swear, your nose nuzzling his stubbled cheek.

You lay there for some time, enjoying the way he feels in you, content with the pooling cum from your still spasming cunt. But eventually, you pull away. You pull on your panties and shorts quickly, not wanting a single drop more of his cum to seep out of you. Unable to help yourself, you lick the leftover cum on his cock clean with your tongue before wiping him down with a towel to prevent the smell from clinging.

Your eyes study Aizawa’s face just before you leave, and your smile.

He really does look less tired after orgasming.

But the entire time you were there — the whole night you fucked him and spoke to him — you missed the red blinking light of the camera recording in the corner of the room.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #tw: somnophilia #bbs kinktober 2020

1K notes · View notes

folkloreguk · 3 years

Text

Querencia (prequel)

A/N: I haven’t written anything in this format in so long, so I hope it’s okay! Someone once asked me to write a prequel to my previous work “Querencia”, so I finally got around to it (after like 2 years rip dfghjk)

[!you don’t have to read both of these parts to understand either one!]

genre: optional bias (male) x reader (female), fluff, explaining how they ended up together, a tiny bit of smut but it’s marked so you can skip if you want, badboy!bias, nerd/shy!reader, her parents are kinda judgemental (only mentioned), secret relationship?, this is an absolute train wreck lmao

words: ~5.2 k

(H/N means “his name”)

ok strap in for this…every time I write a badboy!au I lose a piece of my sanity

basically you used to go to the same school as him

but that’s the only association you had with him because you never actually talked to him in school

he was known to be a “bad boy”

not as in being a horrible person but rather…

he liked to challenge teachers/adults when he didn’t agree with them

and they couldn’t do much because he ended up having pretty decent grades and most of the time his arguments were valid

you had heard your fair share of stories about him

of him getting into a fight with the captain of the football team

apparently, he had stood up for a girl because said captain tried to take advantage of her at a party when she was drunk

you remember being lowkey impressed but didn’t condone violence either way

so, at the same time you were kind of intimidated by him

there were other stories circulating around

of him hooking up with half the school

in quite inappropriate places if I may add

but no one really knew what was the truth tbh

not that it really mattered to you

you were a typical good-girl-nerd-kinda person and so was your friend group

which meant you weren’t even paying attention to him half of the time

plus you thought you’d never see him again after graduating from school

until sooner or later you wouldn’t be given any other choice

because when you walked into your first ever university lecture, he was there

literally one row in front of you???

you were shook because apparently he was studying the same subject as you??

he had even more tattoos and piercings now

one tattoo covered almost the whole front of his neck

he had black boots on and his pants were ripped at the knees

and obviously he had to be wearing a leather jacket

not that you were staring at him (yes you were)

frankly you thought he looked hot

great it’s your first day and you’re already failing to pay attention

and then he turned his head a little and smirked at you???

suddenly you loved looking at your professor and not him

but since you hadn’t paid attention you were left with questions after the lecture

unfortunately the professor was gone before you could ask them

and your social awkwardness made it hard for you to just start talking to a random stranger

so when he go up and made his way to the end of the seats he had to walk past you

“HEy I have a question” you blurted out when he was at your level

the fact that he was so relaxed talking to you made you even more stressed

and he helped you luckily

then, before he could say anything else but the answer to your question, you had escaped the conversation

because perhaps you still found him a little intimidating

but when you walked out of the hall, he quickly caught up to you

“Hold on, do I know you? You seem familiar” he asked

so you had no choice but to explain to him that you went to school together

he was actually really polite to you

but you had sworn yourself education would come first for you, boys second

so you got out of that situation as quickly as possible

the next two weeks you saw him at lectures but always kept out of his way

he said hello a few times and you would nod and smile shyly

within days he had collected a bunch of girls that often sat with him

you guessed he was staying true to his reputation after all

then one day you were in the lovely park behind your university building because you had a break between lectures

you had brought old bread to feed the ducks in the little pond

but suddenly they all swam away from you, over to the other side of the pond

and you couldn’t BELIEVE

he was sitting there, throwing pieces of his perfectly fine sandwich to the ducks all while putting on an extra holy expression

so you went over to fight (not literally lmao)

he greeted you by saying “The ducks made you stop avoiding me?”

you were shook because how did he even notice

“What? You don’t have enough girl-attention yet?” you said

“Not from pretty girls like you” he said

you must have given him a severely disgusted look because he quickly changed his flirty expression

“What made you avoid me? Did I ever say something wrong to you?” he asked

“No you didn’t…you just don’t seem like the crowd I’d hang out with” you confessed

“Wow, I didn’t take you for the judgmental kind” he said

and he looked pretty upset actually??

“I don’t think you’re a bad person” you said

“But I’m home at least by 9 pm every night to study, my parents look at me like I’m a saint, I’ve never been in a relationship and I get nervous when someone as much as raises their voice at me…you strike me as the complete opposite of all those things” you added

without missing a beat, he asked “Don’t they say opposites attract?”

you realized maybe you really had written him off too soon…or perhaps you had worried that he would take your attention off your studies too much

which wouldn’t have been surprising considering how your first lecture with him had gone

and from then on you tried to be nicer to him

sometimes he voluntarily came to sit next to you in class

you didn’t understand why

because you barely spoke to him due to being awkward and when you did you felt like he judged you for being so shy

he had a way with words and within days you found yourself thinking of him more

his stupidly handsome features, tattooed knuckles and pierced eyebrow…it all attracted you maybe a little too much

it was terrifying to you…how he talked to you so easily and already you were eating right off his spoon

what if he was only playing around and you were nothing but a toy girl to him

but then you cursed yourself for saying that…he said he wasn’t a bad person and you were going to believe so unless he proved himself otherwise

spoiler: that never happened

one autumn night you walked out of university after class, it was dark already and pouring rain

you realized you had forgotten your umbrella at home…but you had to walk there by foot…absolutely fantastic

so you pulled your hood over your head and braced yourself to get completely soaked within seconds

suddenly you heard a voice behind you

“Let me bring you home” he said

“No worries, I’m fine” you tried to tell him

“Come on. You said you live twenty minutes from here. If you get on my motorbike I’ll get you home within a few minutes” he said

you were like “Motorbike??”

“Yeah, come on, it’s over there” he said, and he walked ahead of you

basically he didn’t really give you time to argue

when you didn’t follow him right away, he turned around and gave you a look

“You’ll only get a cold if you walk home in this weather” he said

although your parents had drilled into you the idea that motorbikes were dangerous, you went with him after all

he offered you his spare helmet and you put it on

but you were struggling to close it

so he helped you

he was focused on the helmet, but you were staring at him just because you could

his hair was completely soaked by now and water drops were running down his black leather jacket

he had a habit of biting the inside of his cheek when he was concentrating

and with his hands almost on your face, it was the closest he’s ever been to you

it made you weirdly nervous tbh

but before you knew it he had closed the helmet and told you to get onto the motorcycle behind him

“Hold on to the back of the bike or to me” he said

you were surprised at how he didn’t urge you to touch him

and at first you held on to the tail of the motorcycle but the moment you hit a speed bump you changed your mind QUICKLY

your arms swung around his waist tightly and you felt his chest move when he chuckled

like he had said, it only took a few minutes to get you home, and you told him the way there

and surprisingly you really liked being on the motorcycle???

you had thought you’d be scared but it felt amazing

except for how freezing cold the wind was on your wet cheeks ☹

shortly before you pulled up in your street you told him

“You should let me get off a little earlier…my mom will kill me if she sees me on a motorbike”

he didn’t argue but stopped two houses before yours

you felt like the rain had gotten even worse so you really didn’t have time for big words

you quickly thanked him and he gave you his famous smirk before you ran home as quickly as possible

when you had reached the front door you turned his way and he was still there, making sure you got inside

looking at him there, in the downpour in his cool jacket and on his motorcycle, your cheeks involuntarily got hotter

when you got into your room that night and checked your phone, you had one new message on Instagram

you opened it and it was from him???

“Take a warm shower or you’ll be sick tomorrow” it said

he must had sent it seconds after you had entered your house before he had driven away

he really became a bigger mystery to you from one day to the other

because you had no idea what all of this meant???

maybe you should have gotten the hint way earlier

but you didn’t really know the first thing about dating so how were you supposed to know?

but then around two weeks later something else occurred

again, you had class until the early evening

on this specific day, your university was hosting a party for the new students

technically, you would have fallen into that group of new students

but you weren’t one for partying and after being in class for hours on end, all you wanted was to crawl into your bed and rest

so when your course had ended you made your way out of the university building

and you could tell the party had already started because of the music playing

plus there were people all over the place

some were already drunk…you would have been surprised but also this was university after all

you quickly stepped out onto the street and began walking in the direction of your home

from somewhere, you suddenly heard voices

they were making gross noises, as if calling a cat, and asking “sweetheart, do you have a minute?”

when you turned your head, you saw a group of (most certainly) drunk men-boys goggling at you

and because you didn’t slow down or even react to them, they walked after you

you told yourself they would leave you alone if you only walked far enough from the bus station they had waited at

but inside your pocket you clenched your keys between your knuckles

all of a sudden, something touched your shoulders

you almost had a heart attack and raised your hand out of your pocket

“You didn’t wait for me” H/N said from next to you

he placed his infamous leather jacket around your frame and swung an arm around your shoulder

you were about to tell him he had scared the living hell out you

but he was only glaring at the disgusting guys behind you

“I suggest you go home and sleep it off. And learn to take a hint from a girl when she’s this visibly uninterested” he said

the enraged stare he sent to the group of young men made even you feel slightly uneasy

but it worked…they distanced themselves from you if only hesitantly and with a clearly pissed off attitude

“Thank you” you said and were about to give him back his jacket

“Nothing to thank me for. And I gave you that because your sweater looks really thin. Keep it for now” he said

you were taken aback…as always

“Why aren’t you driving your motorbike today?”

“I am, but it’s parked around the corner here. Want me to drive you home?” he asked

and he gave the look again

which look you may ask

the one in which he stared at your eyes and then at your lips…and then your eyes…and then your lips

and his lips were so pretty

“You know what I want?” you asked, “I wanna know if there’s anything you want from me”

he furrowed his brows in confusion

“Why are you always being like this to me?” you went on

“Are you trying to get into my pants?” you blurted out

and then instantly regretted it

especially when he said “Do I really seem like that kind of person?”

“I’ve heard stories about you…” you said

“What kind of stories?” he asked

“Of you hooking up with half of our school back then” you said

he laughed???

and then said “And does it matter how many people I’ve had sex with?”

“It makes me think that’s what you want from me, too. And if that’s the case, I’ll have to disappoint you” you said

“Jesus, Y/N. I want to date you” he said

when I say you were shocked it would be an understatement

hot-tattooed-bad-boy wanted to date you??

and you must have signaled those exact words just by your expression

because he said “I’m telling you again, opposites attract. Don’t you at least wanna give it a try?”

of course you wanted to

“Alright…but I’ve never done this before” you said

“We’ll take it slow, I promise” he said

and then “That means I can finally tell you how goddamn adorable you are”

was it gonna be like this forever??? he compliments you and you feel like your cheeks are on fire???

probably

“I’ll bring you home, come on” he said, swinging his arm around your shoulder again

even this gesture made you shy

you didn’t even know how to respond

and this time, being behind him on the motorbike felt like a whole new sensation

now you were close to him, knowing he wanted you there as much as you did…

and it 100% made you scream on the inside

when he dropped you off, you didn’t know if you were supposed to hug him???

you awkwardly handed him his jacket back

“So, where are we going on our first date?” he asked

“First date?” you asked

“Yeah…people who date usually go on dates, don’t they?” he teased you

“Um…what about the cinema?” you suggested

“Fine, let’s see what they’re showing and I’ll text you, okay?” he said

and he texted you remotely fifteen minutes after you had arrived at home that night

…

so you went to the cinema the next day

before the date, you were essentially losing your mind

what were you supposed to wear??

would he care what you wore??

but even if he didn’t, you wanted to look pretty

your anxiety was kind of going through the roof for hours before he even arrived

he had picked you up, somehow looking even hotter than usually??

or maybe those were just your hormones going insane

“You look beautiful” he said when you had climbed onto the motorbike behind him

“And you look handsome” you had replied

his smile had a faint shyness in it, but only for the blink of a second

at the cinema, you weren’t sure how to act differently around a crush than when you were with friends tbh

did you want to hold his hand?? hell yeah

did you do it?? absolutely not

did you want to point out obsessed you were with his body art?? most certainly

did you?? oh no way, you weren’t gonna expose yourself like that (yet)

luckily, he was easy to talk to and had the patience of a saint

he grinned at you when you would become shy, as if it wasn’t the most embarrassing thing EVER to you, especially in front of him

he also probably called you cute like 13 times whilst you were waiting for the movie to begin alone

in the dark, your hands brushed whenever you both reached for the popcorn at the same time

when you looked over at him, he was chuckling

“Are you doing that on purpose?” he whispered

“No way!” you whispered back

“No? I am” he said

you didn’t even know how to respond to that

but he seemed very pleased with himself when he tilted his head at you flirtingly

were there supposed to be this many butterflies in your belly at only your first date?

what have I gotten myself into??? you thought

…

afterwards you walked back to his motorcycle, shoulders brushing now and then

you were in the middle of analyzing every second of the film you had watched, gesturing around in the air and talking excitedly

he leaned against his motorbike and grinned at you in pure admiration while he listened

mid-sentence you suddenly said “Sorry, did I get too invested in this? Do you wanna bring me home now?”

“What? No, if anything I wanna listen to you for another few hours” he said “Do you wanna come back to my place?”

you didn’t know if he was flirting or joking again, but his face was serious

plus you weren’t sure what ‘coming back to his place’ really intended

and once again his sense for reading your mind struck

“I’m not talking about having sex, if that’s why you look so worried. This is only our first date, remember? If you simply don’t feel like it, that’s cool, I’ll bring you home” he said

“No, I want to go with you” you quickly changed your mind “But I have to be home by midnight, or my parents will worry”

“I’ll get you back home by then” he said, smiling in triumph

…

his flat impressed you in a couple of ways

you admired that he already lived alone

plus it was so much more organized and cleaner than you had expected it from a college boy

his bedroom was your favorite part of the apartment

there was no doubt it was his and only his place

posters of his favorite films were plastered on the walls, his bedsheets were dark, a neon sign hung above the headboard of his bed and in the corner, a vinyl player stood

you loved the windowsill that gave you a view out of the fifth-floor flat and had the impulse to sit down there, to watch the cars pass by on the street underneath

“make yourself at home” he had said

and somehow you had ended up on his bed, right next to him

he let you rest your head on his arm while he listened to you

not only did you discuss the movie you had seen

you also talked about literally anything either of you loved

and you realized quickly, that aside from the different way of living, you had surprisingly many things in common

he put on his favorite plate on the vinyl player so you could listen to the music he loved

when he laid down next to you again, he offered his open arms

for the first time, you put your cheek against his chest, listening not only to the music but also his heartbeat

you remember liking his cologne and how warm he was

“I’ve never been so close to someone who wasn’t my friend or family” you admitted quietly

“Does it feel different?” he asked

“Of course” you said

did he not realize???

how your heart hammered against your ribcage and butterflies were flooding your belly and how there was only him in your head and his stupid cute smile and his tattoos and piercings and deep voice and ohmygodhisvoice

but when you looked up from his chest and checked his expression, he looked equally as fond as you felt

“Being with you feels different from being with other girls to me, too” he said

“It feels so much better” he added then

“What do you see in me that you don’t see in them?” you asked suddenly

“I have to admit, at first I thought it was cute, teasing you and seeing you get shy, well, I guess it still is. I liked the idea of getting to know someone with such a completely different image, so sweet and good” he said

and as he did, he softly brushed his hand over your lip

you thought you were going to have a heart attack

“But damn you’re so funny and kind…how can I not want you this way?” he said

and he looked so honest, almost vulnerable, a sight you never thought you’d see

“In which way?” you asked

“In every way” he said

and with one look, he erased all fears you’d had about him and how he might have felt about you

suddenly you understood why people went on dates all the time and searched for love…

at some point you realized how it was past midnight already

he drove you home quickly, and luckily you didn’t get into too much trouble with your parents

this time when he dropped you off, he gave you a hug that made you want to stay in his arms forever

from then on, your feelings could only get worse and you were stressed about what it would do to you

you thought your crush was bad then?? it was nothing

within the next weeks, you fell head over heels for the cliché bad boy and there was no way to stop it

you had told him you didn’t want to prioritize a relationship over your education

so 90% of your dates ended up being study dates

although he was the biggest distraction in your life, this way you at least got a little something done

usually, it went a little like this:

you’d be sitting down at a library table, with him across from you

your head would be buried in a book within minutes, only occasionally looking up at him

and he’d be busy telling you all things he could possibly come up with:

“Have I ever told you how gorgeous your eyes are? I know, even if you’re not looking at me”

“There’s a really cute girl here, but she’s ignoring me. Do you think she likes me too?”

“Hey, do you wanna go out with me sometime, like…on a date? A real date?”

“You know what other people do at the library? There’s an empty space way in the back, I can show you…”

yes sometimes he’d say suggestive things to you

but they were jokes, simply a part of his character

he never pressured you to do anything

even your first kiss took a while to occur

it was one night when he brought you home from a date (this time a real one)

when you said your goodbyes, you suddenly felt an overwhelming wave of affection

his eyes were so warm and only on you, always

softly, his tongue swept over his bottom lip, teeth toying with his piercing

“Can you kiss me?” you asked

something sparked in his eyes…he had won even more of your trust, and rightfully so

his fingers gently lifted your chin, and you always thought you’d be nervous through your first kiss, but no…it was serenity

it was butterflies peacefully floating and fireworks going off all at the same time

had you known how good this felt, you would have asked him to kiss you way earlier tbh

the whole evening until you fell asleep you couldn’t stop smiling

and you liked to think even in slumber, the corners of your mouth had been curled upwards because of him

from then on, kissing him had turned into your favorite pastime

it was especially bad when you tried to have “study dates” at his place

90% of the time, your studying turned into making out with him

oh? you’re taking a break and getting a glass of water from the kitchen? oops now you’re on his sofa, sitting in his lap and kissing

the way he handled you with such confidence and made flirty remarks all the way through your make-out-sessions only reminded you of his experience

sometimes you felt bad, knowing he was holding himself back

other days you wished he wasn’t so hesitant with touching you less innocently

but sometimes you did stop him, if his hands wandered a little too far down your torso, or if things seemed to get too steamy

he would always apologize, even if you told him there was nothing wrong

but his confidence made you feel more comfortable with every time you were in his arms

!!!SMUT AHEAD IN ITALICS

one day you were in the middle of watching a movie on his bed

but all you had been thinking of were his lips and hands

when you kissed him, things quickly turned more intense

only this time you asked him to go further

initially, he was worried

“I wish I could make this more special for you” he said

“If it’s with you, it’s perfect, no matter where and when” you assured him

the first time, he was the most gentle he’s ever been with you

because he had never pressured you and you had chosen this exact moment yourself, you weren’t even close to as nervous as you thought you’d be

and from then on, you only became more comfortable when it came to sex

you could tell he loved showing you and trying new things with you

and before you knew it, he was actually showing you that empty space at the back of the library he had joked about

usually, you were hesitant to do anything risky in public

but when it was late and the library was nearing closing hours, it was almost fully vacant

he could never get enough of your innocent eyes while your lips were wrapped around his cock, kneeling on the carpet floor of the university library in front of him

he’d never get over when he fucked you from behind, two of his fingers in your mouth, muffling your moans while you were hidden behind the bookshelves

other nights he’d show up outside of your house in the middle of the night, just because he missed you so much

*cough* querencia *cough*

there was something about nighttime that made you feel as if you were the only two people in the world

then it would be him and you in his bed, on his kitchen counter, his sofa, his shower or any random wall of his apartment

now you might have understood why the girls loved him

but they didn’t love him the way you did

!!!SMUT ENDING

he loved showing you off to his friends

some of them looked equally as intimidating as him

but as you had learned, most of that was simply looks and wasn’t to be taken seriously

when you hung out with his friends, he had you sitting in his lap, usually bragging about something you had done or said to him

you were like his personal, pretty gem and he was making sure everyone knew

and as much as he wanted you to be known to his friends, you wished you could have told your parents about him

one day, they would understand how much you loved him

they would be able to look past his tattoos and pierced skin and see how amazing he was

but for now, he was your little secret

every night, he sent you a goodnight text right before you went to sleep

sometimes he’d attach a picture of himself

in his pajamas, with messy hair and heavy eyelids, even he looked almost cute to you

other nights, when he was still out, it’d be a mirror selfie, with his hair pushed back perfectly, lifting his head so you’d see your favorite tattoo of his on his neck

his clothes pitch black and shirt lazily tucked into his belt on one side

his eyes would have the cocky gaze you knew from when you first met him

only now it was only meant for you

his message would read:

“I love you angel. See you in your dreams”

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tsuu-mikii · 3 years

Text

glued

chapter one

masterlist

　　　　　*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

People were always shocked when they found out that Eren Jaeger was your best friend. You were polar opposites, like fire and water. You were level headed and responsible, while he was rash and had a tendency to mouth off.

You’d met when he transferred into your third grade class. His almost permanent scowl and extreme competitive spirit had kept most of the class away from him, but your stubborn empathy wouldn’t let you leave the boy friendless and alone, and you found yourself sitting down next to him at lunch a few weeks after his arrival.

After offering him a juice box as a peace offering, you managed to get him to talk to you. And the rest was history. The two of you just worked. You balanced each other out.

“Eren, how many times do I have to tell you that you cannot use a comma right there?” you huffed, dragging your hands down your face as you attempted to tutor the teal eyed boy you called your best friend.

Eren groaned, scrunching his face and leaning back against the wall behind your bed, “Not all of us can be English majors with genius writing skills.”

“I am the best.” you teased, sticking out your tongue at him. He rolled his eyes.

Suddenly, his phone pinged. Judging by the childlike smile he grew, you could tell it was his mom.

“Tell Mama Jaeger I said hi!” you said, flitting your eyes across what he’d completed on his paper so far and inserting edits he needed to make.

He rolled his eyes but continued typing, “Y’know, sometimes I think you like my mom more than you like me.”

You brought your hand to your chin faux pensively, “Well, she does give me snacks whenever I come over…”

He shoved you playfully before pushing his phone back into his pocket, “You’re evil.”

He turned his eyes back onto his laptop screen, taking in the slew of markups you’d added to it. His face soured, his expression of happiness immediately turning into one of confusion.

You laughed before shutting his laptop, “Why don’t we call it quits for today’s session, yeah? Don’t you have a party to get to? It’s a Saturday night.”

He gave you a pointed look, “You’re being judgy right now, y/n, I can feel it. Don’t be judgy.”

“I am not being judgy! You already know I don’t care about how many girls you hook up with.” you replied with a gentle shove of his arm.

He frowned but didn’t say anything further, opting to stand up from your bed and straighten out his clothes.

As he stood there before you, you couldn’t help but take in his appearance. You’d known Eren since elementary school, and it would be a lie to say he hadn’t changed. His brown locks had grown long enough to tie into a small bun, his jawline had become more defined, his previously scrawny arms had become defined with lean muscles and his ears were riddled with piercings.

Your best friend was attractive, and everyone knew it. Despite the tiny remnant of feelings for him that lingered from your childhood, you’d never truly judge him for living his life the way he wanted to. It wasn’t your place. That didn’t stop you from poking fun at him, though.

The silence of the room was comfortable as he packed his things, and after collecting all his belongings and securing them in his bag he turned to face you.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come with?” he asked with a small smile.

You snorted, “And watch you and your little frat friends get shitfaced? I’ll pass.”

You pulled him into a brief hug, the gesture natural to the both of you, “You have fun, though. And stay safe! I mean it.”

He chuckled and gave you a two finger salute, “I promise to be on my best behavior, Captain.”

You rolled your eyes before ushering him out the door. “And don’t forget to finish your paper!” you shouted to him as he retreated down the hall. You knew him too well, and could already tell that come tomorrow morning he’d be calling you to bring him a detox and food because of his hangover.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･

It was around 1 am when your cell phone rang, ripping your attention away from the random Netflix original that played on your TV. You quickly grabbed it to see Eren’s contact photo occupying the screen. Without hesitation, you slid the call button to answer.

“Hello?”

“Uh, y/n?” a voice that definitely wasn’t Eren’s replied.

“Jean?” you asked, realizing that the mysterious caller was a fellow member of Eren’s fraternity.

“You remembered! Anyway, your idiot’s way more drunk than usual. Like about to pass out drunk. Can you come get him before he pukes on someone?”

You heard a retching sound in the background, followed by a shriek.

“Too late,” you could practically hear his cringe through the speaker, “So will you come get him?”

You sighed, “I’m on my way.”

Disconnecting the call, you made quick work of replacing the pajama shorts you were wearing with leggings and shrugging on an oversized hoodie you’d stolen from Eren in high school. You slipped out of the door quietly, careful not to wake your roommate.

Despite your anger at having to leave your dorm so late at night, you couldn’t help but feel a pit of worry settle at the bottom of your stomach. He was by no means a lightweight, so him getting drunk enough to hurl meant that he went way overboard. Something he only did when he had something big bothering him. It honestly stung a bit that he hadn’t shared anything with you, despite him having been in your dorm for hours before he left for the party.

You shook the negative thoughts from your head as you approached the frat house. Before you could even knock on the door it swung open, revealing an absolutely trashed Eren being held up by a very pissed off Jean.

Jean tapped Eren’s cheek with an annoying grunt, “Oi Jaeger, your friend is here.”

You winced as he transferred his weight onto your shoulders, “Sorry about him.”

“Don’t be. He was in here whining all night about how some lady friend doesn’t like him back, feel sorry for her.”

You frowned, having been unaware that he was interested in someone. Even though you swore your feelings for him had fizzled out in the tenth grade, you couldn’t shake the heavy feeling in your chest.

You plastered on a small smile regardless, “Later, Jean. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

He returned the smile and nodded before returning to the party.

After several unsuccessful attempts at walking, you nudged Eren with a scowl, “Eren, I need you to use your legs too.”

He mumbled incoherently and let out what sounded like a whine before ultimately complying with your request.

Halfway through your trek back to the dorms, he began to speak.

“Why doesn’t she like me back?” he mumbled drunkenly into your shoulder.

Your heart rate quickened and you sped up your stride, desperate to reach his dorm.

“What?”

“I like her so much. But she just thinks of me as a friend. She doesn’t even care when I hang out with other girls.”

“Eren what are you talking about?” you asked, heart practically in your throat at this point.

He looked at you, eyes piercing, “I’m in love with her.”

You were outside his dorm by now and you weren’t sure if you wanted to dump him on his bed and run or grill him for questions while he was still in his drunken stupor.

You chose the former.

You made quick work of removing his shoes, laying him down and covering him with a blanket. As you turned to exit he caught your wrist, holding you back.

“Stay?” he asked, eyes closed and speech still a bit slurred.

You shook your head, “Absolutely not. You’re drunk.”

He frowned and shook his head, pulling your hand up to his face, “Not like that. I just want you to stay.”

You sighed, it was always hard to say no to him, “Fine, but only until you fall asleep.”

He hummed contently in response as you sat on the little empty space left on his dorm bed. As you ran your fingers through his silky brown hair you couldn’t help but think about what he’d told you. Who was he in love with? Did you know her? When did he meet her? Why did it hurt so bad?

Despite your best efforts, you found yourself dozing off, mind still swimming with unanswered questions.

Four hours later you awoke, still in Eren’s bed. You quickly shot up to leave, only to be stopped by the weight of his muscular arm pinning you in place. He had always been grabby in his sleep, and when coupled with the fact that he worked out five times a week, it was almost impossible to get out of his grip.

Luckily for you, years of being his friend had made you relatively good at escaping him, and with a little effort you carefully removed his arm from you and slid a pillow into your place.

You quickly slid your shoes back on and dashed out the door, not even breathing until you were in the hall. Your heart was pounding as you exited his building and made your way to your own. Luckily it was early, so the only people around were a spattering of students trekking back from parties.

You reached your dorm with little fanfare and quietly slid in, kicking your shoes off and sliding down the door. You massaged your temples and screwed your eyes shut, why did it bother you so much that he liked someone else. You’d long passed the point of being a lovesick puppy over him.

“Y/n, is that you?” your roommate grumbled sleepily, not moving from her spot on her bed, “It’s like, 5 am, go back to bed.”

Her ears had always been sharp, but you were still surprised the little noise you’d made had woken her up. “Sorry, Sasha.”

She simply mumbled in response before going right back to snoring.

You climbed into your bed after stripping from the hoodie and leggings you’d put on and settling back into your pajamas from earlier. Despite your efforts, you couldn’t sleep a wink, your thoughts consumed by Eren’s words.

Who was he in love with?

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･

a/n: hey besties! just wanted to get the cross posting out of the way first lmao. hope y’all enjoyed !

#aot fics #eren x reader #eren yaeger x reader #eren jaeger x reader #glued

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pettyprocrastination · 4 years

Text

Rip Out Our Seams and Stitch Us Together

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Valerie Lord x Black!Fem!Reader

Chapter Five

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: Profanity, mirror sex, choking, kind of face-fucking? a touch of voyeurism, oral-male receiving, penetrative sex, Mean Maxwell fuckin’ lmao, office sex, angry sex, how in God’s name did we get here I am horrible at writing smut so i just want to say i’m SORRY.

Chapter Summary: You take the measurements for the richest family in D.C, Valerie is surprised by her how quickly her son has taken a shining to you and Maxwell has a late night at the office.

Tag List: @captainsamwlsn @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @readsalot73 @cinewhore @this-cat-is-dea @holographic-carmen @honestlystop @favoriteff-allcelebs @teaofpeach

Chapters: 1/2/3/4/

“The Lords are coming by tomorrow.” Cassandra looked up from the book open at the register.

“But Mrs.Lord was just in yesterday.” She told you.

“Not just her this time.” You finished off the seam on the ground in front of you as you spoke. “All of them are coming in, her husband and son, the whole gang of rich folk will be here.”

Ever since Valerie stepped into your shop late at night four weeks ago, she made herself a common visitor. Oftentimes she’d waltz in, plop herself down onto a chair and begin to complain about Maxwell’s secretary with the horrid voice or one of her friends who was less of a friend and more of a pain in the ass.

You didn’t know how becoming the friend of a heiress meant her throwing herself into your lap everyday to gossip about other rich people but hey, you weren’t complaining. She was pretty good company when the dust settled.

Three days ago she had called your store, and told you she, Maxwell, and Alastair would be coming in to get measurements taken so you could get the mock-up of their outfits done with their approval to move on to the finished version.

Before she could say anything else you had asked about her son.

“What does he like?”

“What?”

“What’s he like?” You asked, as you spoke your hand picked up the needle once more and began to hem the dress in your lap. “You know, DuckTales, Transformers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I’ve got some stuff I always bring out when kids come into the shop but I don’t know how rich kids work. Do I just hand him money and call him sir?”

“Ha ha.” She droned. “You know if life as a seamstress doesn’t work out, you should pursue a career in comedy, you’d flourish.”

“Aw Val, I couldn’t!” You cooed. “You’d miss me too much.”

You heard her scoff on the other line. From across the store Cass looked at you like you’d sprouted a second head.

“Nonetheless.” She said slowly. “Alastair isn’t into traditional children’s activities. He enjoys chess with his tutors, reading, and playing the cello.”

You fought the urge to ask if these were things he liked to do or things his parents wanted him to do.

Maybe rich kids were just built differently.

“I’m just calling to tell you certain adjustments must be made for my son.” She explained, in a tone so formal you hadn’t heard it since you first met her.

“Uh sure.” You sat up, concerned. “What do you need?”

“Certain textures make him extremely uncomfortable for clothing, so be aware that the lining will have to be a soft, smoother material.”

You sat back, observing the swatches already laid out in the backroom. You could grab a few more of softer materials for him to feel and see which one he liked the most. You already assumed as such, since he’s a kid and you remembered how much you hated wearing your church dress because of how itchy it was. “ Anything else need to be done?”

“He can get overstimulated if places are too loud or crowded at times, but since your store hardly has any customers in it.” You could hear the smirk on her face over the phone and groaned. “I doubt that will be a problem.”

“It’s my pleasure to be of your assistance.” You snipped. A moment of silence passed between the pair of you. “But uh, seriously. Don’t worry about it. I’ve made clothes for kids and people with touch aversions before. No sweat.”

“Thank you.” She breathed out. “Really Stitches, I appreciate it.”

At her praise your lips curled into a soft smile. “It’s no problem Val. One question though.”

“Yes?”

“Who the hell names their kid Alastair?”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that Stitches, I’ll see you tomorrow.” A dial tone met your ears and you called out to Cassandra.

“Do we have a chess board in the back?”

---

Valerie walked into her son’s room, clearing her throat so both him and his tutor looked up at her.

“Alastair honey, can I talk to you for a moment?” The boy, only eight, nodded and closed his workbook before standing. The tutor however, shot a hand out to grab her son’s shoulder.

“Mrs. Lord.” The tutor, a man graying at the temples who wore ties so bland she’d rather wear a nose, shot her a condescending smile. “I thought we agreed on not interrupting Alastair’s lessons. It’s bad for his focus.”

“Mr. Lanston.” She shot back in the same sickly sweet tone as she tapped a manicured nail against the wall. “Who’s house is this?”

The man swallowed. “Mr.Lor-”

She clicked her tongue, shaking her head side to side as if scolding a dog. “For a tutor you seem to be quite fond of giving out the wrong answers. So I will ask you again, whose house is this?”

The tutor shrunk back. “Yours.”

“Correct. And who is it that you work for?”

“You, Mrs.Lord.” He said meekly.

“Correct again! Now since this is my house and it is my son you are teaching, I will speak to him if I please. And if you try and insult my son’s intellect by saying a simple chat with his mother will throw him off course, I will throw you out onto the street. Do you understand me?”

The man’s mouth opened and shut like a fish out of water.

“I asked you a question Mr.Lanston.” Her hand tapped against the Cartier watch on her wrist expectantly. “I expect an answer back.”

“Of course Mrs.Lord.” He stammered out, before turning to her son who just barely came to his hip. “I’m so sorry Mr.Lord.”

“That’s okay.” He answered simply, before taking his mother's hand in his and walking out of the room.

Alastair Lord was eight years old, had his mother’s bright blue eyes and his father’s dark brown hair (Maxwell visited a hairstylist regularly but would never admit it). He had already skipped a grade but his parents insisted on keeping track of his studies, even during the summer. Maxwell did it in an attempt to feel less guilty about being stuck at work all day instead of being with his son, Valerie did it so nobody would ever get the chance to use her son’s intellect as a weapon against his own standing.

The Lords didn’t agree on much. But one thing they did agree on was that they loved their son more than anything in the world.

“Do you still want to go to the gala with us in September?” She asked him. Her son’s eyes flicked out to the large glass window that proudly displayed their immaculate lawn, a bird flew along the clear pane before flying up and out of sight. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I’ll go.” He said simply. He squeezed his mother’s hand in his with a small smile. “I like going to those fancy parties, you always wear pretty dresses.” He frowned, looking down at the floor for a moment. “I don’t like it when those old ladies try to touch my hair and kiss my cheek though.”

Alastair hated physical affection from those he didn’t know. The last business party of Maxwell’s he went to, a man’s wife tried to give him what she thought was a friendly kiss on the cheek because he was “such a darling little boy!”. Alastair ripped himself away from her in a panic, to which she then got offended and insisted to speak with his mother about his “awful manners.”

When Maxwell came to find his son clinging to his mother’s leg with tears in his eyes, he promptly had the couple thrown out and cut off business ties with the woman’s husband on account of her awful manners.

From then on Alastair’s parents made sure he knew that if he was uncomfortable with a situation, he was to tell them and they would put an end to it immediately.

“Your father and I are going to go see a seamstress to get measurements done for the gala. Would you come with us so we can get a suit made for you as well?”

Alastair looked up at his mother, blue eyes shining and ultimately passive at her question.

“Sure.”

------

It was late at night when he came into his son’s room. Alastair was already in bed, nuzzled under his sheets and head resting against his pillow. Maxwell gently rapped his knuckles against the door before entering, his son’s eyes blinked open. It was always a shock how much they looked like Valerie's.

“How’s the tutoring going?” Maxwell already knew the answer, Alastair excelled in every subject, but he simply wanted to hear his son speak to him.

“Good.” His son replied. “Mr.Lanston said if I keep studying hard I might be able to skip another grade.”

Maxwell sat on the edge of his bed. “Would you like to skip another grade?”

Alastair was already a grade ahead, his teachers would message his parents about how well behaved and smart he was. But Alastair hardly ever spoke about his own experiences at school, about his friends or anything other than his classes.

“I don’t know.” the boy shifted for a moment, furrowing his brows in frustration and it was moments like this that he truly did look like his mother. “Mr.Lanston says it’s good for me to stay ahead of other but-” He looked off into the window of his room, a small sliver of moonlight peeking through the blue curtains. “Fifth grade sounds kind of fun, I heard the history teacher is really interesting and takes us on fun field trips.”

Part of Maxwell, the part still drilled into his head by his mother, nagged that he was sending the boy to that school to learn not go on ridiculous field trips. The other part of him, the part that shone when Alastair called him dad, felt guilt when he saw how apprehensive his son was in telling him how he felt.

Maxwell smiled, reached out to ruffle his son’s hair that was damn near a carbon copy of his own (before he got it dyed of course). “Then you’ll stay right where you are champ.”

“Thanks dad.”

The older lord frowned, before sternly pointing a finger at his son. “That’s Mr.Dad to you, young man.”

His son promptly groaned and threw his blanket over his face. “That joke still isn’t funny!” Even at his disgust, Maxwell could hear his son’s muffled giggles through the blanket and smiled.

“Humor is subjective, son.” Maxwell stood up from the bed, knees popping loudly as he did. Jesus, he was getting old. “Goodnight Alastair.”

Maxwell was already out of his son’s room and halfway down the hall when a tiny voice peeped out.

“Goodnight dad.”

-----

“So what exactly does his son like?” Cassandra stood at the register, head laying in the palm of her hand as she leaned against the counter. The back room had been set full with different fabrics for them to see and either confirm or reject. Which in the classic Lord fashion meant they will either toss it at you with a stiff “this will do” or tell you it’s the ugliest thing in the world.

You sighed. “Apparently he likes to read, play chess and the cello.” You looked toward the old checkers board set out and shrugged. “That was the closest thing I had so lets hope he isn’t as stuck up as his father or dramatic as his mother.”

“Speaaaaking of which.” Cassandra looked up with an excited grin. “You and Mrs.Lord are like, best friends now right?”

You thought about all the times she paraded into your store before throwing herself into the nearest chair (or your lap) before complaining about her day like a soap opera star.

“Well I wouldn’t say best friends, but we’ve certainly gotten closer.”

“What’s she like? Has she taken you shopping? Have you seen her house? Is she as mean as everybody says she is?”

You pulled back for a moment, thinking. “She’s nice for a rich lady, no we haven’t gone shopping and I don’t think we ever will, I haven’t seen her house which once again I don’t think will ever happen, and honestly she insults me a lot but I think it’s her way of showing affection at this point.”

Cassandra giggled. “Like a cat?”

You thought about a cat- a fickle creature that will hiss and scratch in one second, and then demand all of your attention right after.

“You know what? That’s actually a pretty spot on comparison.”

The jingle of a bell met your ears before a stern voice sounded out.

“My god do you people not know what a broom is?”

You turned around, watching Maxwell enter your store with a crinkled nose.

“I know what a broom is well enough rich boy, why don’t I go get one so I can shove it up your-”

Cassandra cleared her throat loudly before motioning to the tiny child at Maxwell’s side.

“Oh, uh-” You realized the boy must've just seen you threaten his father. “Hey little dude. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you.” The boy responded. Alastair’s voice was just as tiny as he was. He had his mother’s eyes and father’s nose, but his hair was so dark it made you wonder which one of his parents bleached their hair.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, mam.”

Prim posture, perfect manners, not a single hair out of place. He struck you less as a kid and more as a robot but you bit your tongue before smiling back.

“No need for fancy titles with me, little lord. You can call me Stitches.”

Alastair wrinkled his nose, a gesture that made him look so much like his father you wanted to laugh. “That’s a weird name.”

Valerie tutted at her son, blue eyes cast down in disappointment. “Alastair! Don’t be rude.”

“He isn’t wrong.” Maxwell waved off his wife’s scolding of their son. “Besides, I believe we came here to get actual work done on whatever horrid outfits you're making for the gala?”

“Of course.” You turned on your heel, leading them to the backroom where multiple mirrors lined the wall. “I’d hate to take up too much of your time. You’re a busy man after all, I’m sure you’d rather be off making your secretary cry or something equally as important.”

Maxwell rolled his eyes and shucked off his jacket, ignoring the twinge of annoyance he felt at even the mention of his secretary, someone you didn’t even know grated him so horribly.

“Well we can’t all run rotten, hole-in-the-wall shops like this that just beg to be robbed.” He turned a sly eye to you with his nose tilted up. “Some of us have standards after all.”

You smiled. “I suppose you're right about that one Mr.Lord, I doubt my skills will live up to your expectations.” You wrapped the measuring tape around his bicep, using it to tug him so close his powerful facade melted into one of shock.

“And yet-” Your voice curled in his ear like a tempting call, your eyes so focused on taking note of the measurement of his arm Maxwell hoped you didn’t hear his breath catch.

“-here you are.”

Valerie looked up from the fabric swatches in her hand to notice the way Maxwell stared at you while you were blissfully unaware. It was hungry, surprised and oh so desperate. The same way she looked at you.

All while you busied yourself with his measurements, unaware of the inner workings between the billionaire and his wife.

Valerie was pulled from her head when her son handed her a swatch of fabric, a royal blue in color and soft knit against her skin.

“This one is nice.”

She smiled at her son. Out of the corner of her eye she saw you wrap the tape measure around her husband’s chest. She reached down to playfully tug on the collar of his shirt, also a deep royal blue.

“You’ll look lovely in it sweetheart.”

The conversation between you and his father was not nearly as loving.

“Do you have to play such obnoxious music?”

You didn’t bother to look up at Maxwell when he snipped back, you simply focused on the tape in your hands and the measurement of his chest which only made him even angrier.

Obnoxious, what a perfect word to describe you.

The shirts, the tattoos, everything about you was just so...loud.

His eyes flicked forward when he felt your fingers ghost over his chest. Mirrors lined each wall, most likely so your customers could see what the clothes looked like on them from each angle. But as you leaned down to measure his inseam, his thoughts went other places.

Places they definitely shouldn’t have with his wife and son in the same room.

“Do you have to wear such disgusting cologne?”

Maybe it was your attitude, such defiance nobody openly showed him in fear of losing their job, or the fact that you were so different than the tucked in, prim-and-proper future trophy wives he fucked, or maybe it was simply the fact that your ass looked phenomenal in those jeans, but Maxwell couldn’t help but imagine fucking you in front of those mirrors.

He wondered if you’d be loud, head thrown back and calling out his name as he fucked into you without mercy, without care. Maybe you’d be shy, you were so stubborn after all. Perhaps you’d bite your lip, trying to keep your noises stifled so you didn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how good he made you feel. Maxwell wouldn’t allow that of course, he’d never admit it but he liked having his ego stroked almost as much as his cock. He wouldn’t hesitate to grab your jaw, forcing you to look forward at yourself in the mirrors.

‘We’re the only ones here.’ His breath fanning out over your neck would make you shudder as you stared at your reflection just as he did. Seeing the way your tits bounced with each thrust and the ways your legs trembled and shook like those of a newborn. His pride swelled at the notion that if his arm wasn’t wrapped tight around your waist and gripping you close, you would’ve fallen to the floor by now.

‘Let me hear you.’ He grunted into your neck as your whimpers got louder until you were all but shouting his name. ‘Good girl.’

“It’s revolting really.”

The sinful painting in his mind was torn to shreds when your haughty voice cut through it like a hot blade.

He blinked owlishly, you stood in front of him, tape measure no longer against him but thrown over your shoulder while you crossed your arms.

“What?”

“Your cologne.” You explained with a smirk. “It’s like trying to take measurements in a chemical factory. A little goes a long way Maxwell.” You gave him a sarcastic pat on the shoulder, one he was too distracted to push off because the way his name rolled off your lips.

You had never said his name before.

As quick as the interaction was, you turned to Valerie and Alastair, both sitting at the table behind you. You smiled and held a welcoming hand out.

“You ready little man?”

Alastair looked at his mother, who nodded her head and he slid off his chair to hop onto the pedestal his father previously stood on top of. His father took a seat next to his wife who said nothing.

They both watched their son raise his arms as you held up the tape measure to him with a smile, you were saying something to him, most likely about school or his summer break. Valerie appreciated when you asked her about his interests to make a connection, but knew that was less than likely. Alastair wasn’t one to make connections, something she wondered if he got from his father by instinct or something that was drilled into him by his grandmother.

Before she had been banned from coming to their house.

“I’ll be working late tonight.” Maxwell told his wife. He knew she didn’t really care, their marriage was ten years of working late nights. Telling her at this point was just a courtesy.

“Will your secretary be working as well?”

Maxwell noted the sly dig toward Delilah, but didn’t care enough about the woman to defend her.

“If she wasn’t I wouldn't have hired her.”

Valerie ignored her husband in favor of the scene in front of her. She watched as you held the tape to her son’s leg, nodding your head as he spoke at length while you took his measurements. To say his mother was surprised would be an understatement, he hardly talked to his parents. Let alone people he’s only just met.

Maybe something about you just brought out that side of the Lords.

“Alrighty, you're all good Alastair.” The youngest Lord hopped off the little step and you looked toward his mother with a jut of your chin. “You're up, Val.”

Maxwell looked toward his wife with a raised brow, mouthing her nickname in confusion. She was too busy taking your hand as you stepped onto the pedestal to notice.

“So-” You wrapped the tape measure around her waist, mindful not to let your hands linger. “-how the hell did you two make such a sweet kid like Alastair?”

Valerie smiled at your reflection and ignored the way her heart jumped when you pulled the measuring tape just beneath the swell of her chest. “I’m not sure if that was an insult on my parenting or my personality.”

“Oh definitely an insult on your personality, without a doubt.” You responded seriously, but the tilt of your lips lent it to a gentle tease. “You must be doing something right because that kid is better behaved than you and your husband.” You looked up for a moment and she held her breath.

“Or should I be giving this praise to some poor underpaid nanny you torture?”

Valerie scoffed. “Oh please, Miriam is hardly underpaid and she doesn’t do a damn thing right. I don’t know why we keep her around these days.”

You snorted. “Miriam?” The tape measure pressed to the side of her hip as you measured down her leg. “God, you people really tic every box off the one percent checklist, don’t you?”

Valerie hummed, painted lips curls into a smile. “We try our best dear.”

You stood up straight, hands moving behind her to wrap the tape around her chest with an awkward cough. Even as you willed all your focus on the numbers of her measurement you couldn't help but feel your face grow hot.

“How unlady-like.” She murmured, you didn’t look up to meet her gaze but the smug tone in her voice gave it away. “At least buy me dinner, Stitches.”

You chuckled and spared a glance up.

What a fucking mistake that was.

Blue eyes stared you down like you have been presented on a silver platter and the richest woman in D.C. wanted nothing more than to devour you right where you stood.

“Something tells me I wouldn’t be able to afford it.”

“I’m sure I can make an exception.”

You realized Valerie was alot like the sun, you couldn’t look at her for too long without needing to look away.

You stepped back to write her measurements down and put your hands together.

“I think you folks are good to go.”

You just hoped you wouldn’t end up burned.

Maxwell stood up and scoffed. “About damn time, some of us have real work to do instead of twiddling our thumbs and sewing little dresses.” As he walked by, his eyes flicked over yours in a poisonous glare and his shoulder knocked against yours with his son following behind him like a little carbon copy.

You looked toward his wife, who looked just as surprised by the worsening of her husband’s mood.

“You’re one lucky woman Mrs.Lord.”

“Believe me I know.” She leaned forward to whisper with a wink. “But I know a few things that’ll brighten him up no problem.”

You scrunched up your face and pushed out every image that surged into your mind at her implication. “Okay gross, didn’t need to know that but thank you.”

“Always my pleasure Stitches.”

The door shut behind Valerie as she walked out to their car, throwing one last wink over her shoulder before sliding into the backseat next to her son while her husband slammed the passenger seat door behind them.

“Well-” Cassandra looked over at you with a surprised expression. She must've noticed the fact that Maxwell had seemed to be pissier than usual, you did as well but assumed it was because of some deal that went sour at work or some type of rich people shit you couldn’t even fathom. “-his son seemed nice.”

“Yeah.” Their car turned a corner and disappeared from your line of sight. “They aren’t exactly the fucking Brady Bunch though.”

------

“Daniels-” Maxwell adjusted his collar in the rear-view mirror as he spoke. “-swing by the office. I need to go over some papers for a meeting I have tomorrow. Then take Valerie and Alastair home.”

“Of course sir.”

The driver turned left.

“Mom?”

Valerie looked to the boy at her side. “Yes sweetheart?”

“Can I come with you the next time you see the seamstress?” Valerie looked toward the passengers seat, where her husband sat just as shocked as her.

“You want to go see Stitches?” Maxwell asked. “Again?”

His son nodded, too young to realize how surprised his parents were by his answer.

“She’s funny and nice and she doesn’t talk down to me like other people do.” Alastair looked up at his mother, nervous at her lack of response. “Is that okay?”

That seemed to snap Valerie into action. She smiled and took her son’s hand in her with a loving pat. “Of course sweetheart, Stitches would love to have you around.”

The car came to a halt in front of the Chimtech Consortium building, which stood tall, even against the grit and grime of the busy city streets

Maxwell stepped out of the car before ducking his head into the window. “I’ll be home late tonight champ, alright?”

Alastair held no disappointment nor resentment to his father for the time he spent at work but it didn’t make Maxwell feel like any less of a shit father.

“Okay dad.”

Valerie leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek, leaving a red lipstick stain in her wake. “I’ll see you tonight darling.”

Maxwell smiled. “Don’t stay up too late waiting for me dear.” He took a step back, watching the car drive out of the sight of his building before he frowned and wiped the lipstick off his cheek, which in turn left a red mark on his jacket sleeve.

“Damn that woman.”

The moment he entered the lobby, people seemed to pause before greeting him, none of which he gave a response to. It wasn’t until the elevator door shut that he took a deep breath.

Breathe Maxwell, you’ll run yourself ragged this way.

A tiny titter behind him made him realize he wasn’t alone in the elevator. Out of the corner of his eye he could see brown leather shoes that he’d wouldn’t be caught dead in.

“What’s your name son?”

The boy gaped for a moment before he found his voice. “Michael, sir.”

The door opened with a soft Ding! And Maxwell stepped out before turning to face the young man.

Wiry frame, tall, yet hunched over out of pure insecurity and refusing to meet Maxwell’s eye.

He was definitely an intern.

“Well then Mikey-” Maxwell noticed the way his head snapped up as he spoke. “Get me a coffee and bring it to my office, just the way I like it.”

The intern squeaked out a quick “of course sir!” before the doors shut on him.

Maxwell wondered how long it would take for ‘Mikey’ to realize he never told him how he liked his coffee or where his office actually was.

He turned sharply around a corner, taking note in the sea of cubicles he passed, every employee pausing to whisper and watch him march past without speaking. The sound of marketing calls dissipated as he grew farther away from the flurry of lower rank workers. Huddled cubicles were replaced with sleek halls and grand windows showcasing the city view. When his eyes landed on the dark brown door at the end of the hall he nearly wept.

Sweet sanctuary.

His hand had just curled around the silver door knob, the final obstacle between him and sweet sweet isolation when a shrill voice broke out.

“Oh!” Delilah squeaked, jumping up from her chair with surprise. “Mr.Lord, you're here!”

She definitely should’ve noticed that he had gotten here earlier, given that she was his fucking secretary.

“That I am Delilah.” Maxwell answered gruffly, eyes flicking over to the stack of papers on her desk that she would no doubt forget to file. “I do run this company after all.” Before she could respond with some ass-kissing compliment, he walked into his office and shut the door behind him.

Maxwell rolled his shoulders back, undoing the blue tie around his neck as he sank into his office chair with a groan. He spent more time in that chair than his own bed at this point.

Truth be told there wasn’t much that needed to be done at work today that couldn’t be done tomorrow. He had no meetings for another three days and he’d worked himself ragged the past few days to play catch up, now he was more than ahead of the game. He simply needed to be alone, to clear his head a bit.

But try as he may, he couldn’t calm the rambling stream of his consciousness no matter how hard he fought. When he opened his eyes again and spared a glance at the clock on his desk, he realized thirty minutes had passed since he first sat down.

Maxwell groaned, threading his fingers in his hair and pulling in frustration.

Why can’t you get the fuck out of his head?

That bratty attitude combined with your god awful sense of style should've made you repugnant, somebody he couldn’t stand the sight of and didn’t see as anything worth the metaphorical shit under his eight hundred dollar shoes. Yet here he sat, hunched over in his office plagued with your voice saying his name like a challenge over and over in his head like some sick chant.

Maxwell ran a hand through his hair, setting each strand into place before he pressed the button on his desk and spoke with authority.

“Delilah, could you meet me in my office?”

Only a few seconds later, she came scurrying into his office with poorly hidden excitement.

“Yes sir?” That was one thing he hated about her.

The fucking voice.

It wasn’t her voice on it’s own, but it was the way she made her voice sound. She made sure to always talk softly, forcing herself up to a higher octave to sound sweet and submissive like a flute when she really sounded like somebody stepping on the tail of a cat.

But her boss wasn’t interested in her voice to begin with.

He pushed his chair out from under his desk by a fraction and unbuckled his belt.

“Knees.”

She was quick to find her way between his legs with a sultry smile.

“Did you miss me?”

Maxwell scoffed. “Hardly. Now do something useful with that mouth before I start looking at new hires to take your place.”

The smile disappeared and she looked down, uttering out a small “Yes Mr.Lord” before she took his cock into his mouth. Maxwell let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in, head falling back with a relaxed hum. His eyes shut as his mind, always his enemy, began to paint a picture he had been longing for all day.

You sat on your knees between his legs, moaning while you ran your tongue along the underside of his cock.

You seemed like the type to tease, he didn’t doubt that. But he enjoyed teasing just fine, as long as he was the one doing it. Maybe in the form of a toy nestled between your legs while he held a remote, turning it on and off with no pattern just to see you whine and buck your hips like a bitch in heat.

His hand knotted itself in your hair and pushed you further down on his cock with a grunt.

“That’s it.” You whined as your head bobbed up and down, tongue hot against his veins while the coil in his stomach wound tighter and tighter every time you moved. “You take it so well, just like that.”

A nervous knock sounded against his door. Maxwell’s eyes snapped open before they narrowed into angry slits.

Christ, he just couldn’t catch a break today.

Delilah let out a muffled squeak and pushed herself off of Maxwell’s cock before his hand pressed down on the back of her head and bucked his hips against her open mouth.

“You make a noise or move an inch off of my dick-” His voice was even and ultimately unbothered as he spoke to her. “-and you're fucking fired.”

Delilah made a whimpered garble against him, he assumed it meant ‘Yes sir.’

“Come in.”

The door creaked open and in walked the same intern from the elevator, just this time with a Styrofoam cup in his trembling hand.

Son of a bitch, the kid actually did it.

“Well color me surprised Mikey, you came through.”

The boy set the coffee on his desk, completely unaware of the woman crouched under the desk, deepthroating the seemingly unbothered man sitting before him.

Maxwell took the coffee into his hand, taking a tentative sip before his face scrunched up. Just as he did, Delilah gagged loudly against him, causing Michael’s eyes to go wide as he looked around for the source of the sound.

God he hated black coffee.

“A touch too bitter for my taste, but gold star for effort kid.” Maxwell's hand snaked under the table to push Delilah's head down another inch or two. Her nose was now nestled against the hem of his dress shirt, and he could feel her struggling to maintain the position by the way her throat flexed around his cock.

Good. Maybe that would shut her up.

“Next time try a dash of nutmeg.”

“Nutmeg?”

“Yes, nutmeg. It’s a nice wake-up in the morning. But for now that will be all.” Maxwell motioned to the door, to which the boy nodded and bowed his head like some servant.

“Of course, have a good day sir.”

“You too kid. Make sure to shut the door behind you.”

The intern all but sprinted out, Maxwell felt his pride swell knowing even after he complimented the intern, he was still scared shitless of him. The moment his door clicked shut, he gripped his slobbering secretary’s hair by the root and wrenched her off his dick, leaving her to sputter and cough with tears in her eyes.

“I suggest you make yourself useful, Miss Harris.” Maxwell slid his jacket off his shoulders and onto the chair behind him. He pulled a condom out of his pocket with a frown that never seemed to leave when she was in his presence.

“That poor intern already knows where my office is and how I like my coffee, you might be out of a job soon enough.”

Delilah wiped the spit from her mouth and grinned. She stood on shaky legs in those horrendous kitten heels before pulling up her skirt and bending over his desk.

“You could never fire me sir.” She groaned, gripping the desk like a lifeline when Maxwell entered her and began to thrust without giving her time to adjust to his size. “You’d miss me too much.”

Maxwell, still buried inside her, scoffed. “And what exactly would I miss Delilah? The cold coffee? The missed memos? Or you coming in late and thinking I don’t notice?” With each question he thrust in and out, in and out, a harsh unforgiving tempo that his secretary should be used to by now.

She arched her back with a squeaking moan. “No, you’d miss this pussy. Nobody fucks you like I do Sir.” The final string keeping Maxwell together, the one that everybody seemed to tug and pluck all day finally snapped when Delilah her next words.

“Not even your bitch of a wife.”

Maxwell’s hips halted their assault against Delilah’s freckled skin, his eyes narrowed as he stared down at the back of her head, the pregnant pause filled the air that made Delilah realize right as the words passed her lips she had fucked up.

She gasped when his hand wrapped tight around her throat and pulled her up off the desk and against his chest.

“Talk about my wife again, go ahead.” Maxwell growled out, Delilah opened her mouth but no sound came out as his fingers squeezed tighter and tighter around her throat until her face went from pale white to bright red, the cold metal of his wedding band cut into the soft skin of her neck, the pain hopefully proving to be an effective teacher . “I fucking dare you, you even mention Valerie one more fucking time and you’ll wish you never pulled your lazy ass through that door to apply for this goddamn job. You understand me?”

When he loosened his grip she nodded rapidly, taking in a shuddering breath. She looked over her shoulder at him, legs trembling and a pout on her swollen lips.

“I’m sorry.” She croaked out, voice hoarse from his dick and only made worse by his temper. His hand slid up her back before pushing her down on the desk where her body slammed down on the hard wood.

“I don’t care.”

Maxwell slid out of her before ramming back into her dripping cunt with zero grace, continuing to do so as his hands gripped her hips hard enough that he would surely leave behind bruises come the next day.

He thought about the way the same bruises would look on your hips.

Your neck.

Fuck, your chest.

Hearing you moan his name like a plea, a chant to God but Maxwell was one being worshiped. All the bite you showed him at work would melt away when he slid inside you with a groan. His fingers digging into the plush give of your ass while pounding into your sweet pussy that gripped him like a fucking vice.

“You love it.” He spoke through gritted teeth, hair unkempt and falling in front of his eyes. “You fucking love it don’t you?”

You nodded numbly, gripping onto the table and just barely managing a weak moan. Maxwell’s hand came down on your ass in a stinging slap that made you shout. He didn’t care who outside his office heard you, Christ himself could be standing outside and that wouldn’t be enough to pull him from you.

“You speak when-” Maxwell groaned, doubling over your body and rutting into you like an animal. “You speak when you're fucking spoken to.”

Your back arched as his voice growled out against your neck. “I love it.” You fingers dragged against his mahogany desk that shook with each thrust. “I love it so fucking much.”

“I fucking know you do.” His hips stuttered against yours, hot waves of pleasure threatening to crash over him with every thrust, every bounce of your curls and every sweet coo of your voice. “You were made for just my cock, just for me. Weren’t you?”

“Just for you.” You panted. Your knees knocked together as he pushed you into the desk more with each selfish thrust of his cock. “All yours max, only yours.”

Maxwell’s hand slammed down on the table next to Delilah’s head as he came with a low groan. Delilah, feeling her own high slowly retreating, whined.

“Max please.” She begged. “I’m so close please just-” she squeaked at the feeling of her boss pulling out of her in record time as he cleaned himself up.

“How many times to I have to fucking tell you, address me as Mr.Lord or Sir-” his eyes cut down at her trembling form. “-or don’t bother speaking at all.”

Delilah pushed herself off his desk with a weak nod.

“Yes Mr.Lord.”

“Send a reminder to that archaeologist for this Friday.” Maxwell had already fastened his belt and taken seat at his desk once more, plucking the now disarrayed papers off the cool surface and shuffling them into a neat pile in his hands. He read them while he walked over to the bookshelf raised on the wall

“She seems like a ditz and I want to make sure this meeting doesn’t fall through.”

Delilah frowned, tilting her head to the side. A gesture some men may find charming if they were ten years younger and didn't run a fucking company that this idiot woman worked for.

“Archaeologist?”

“The mousy one that works at the museum.” He reminded her. “If you don’t remember at this point, that’s your own fault for only paying attention to the things I say when you’re on my dick.” Without looking up from the papers in his hand, Maxwell waved a hand in the direction of his office door.

“That will be all.”

Delilah bowed her head, whether to hide the bright blush on her face or angry tears, he didn’t know. And quite frankly?

He didn’t care.

He was already focused on the papers he skimmed, deals and mergers that could break other companies while making him a richer man.

At least that’s what he told himself while your voice was playing in his head like a broken record.

Angry, brown eyes left the paper to stare at an unopened bottle of whiskey on the shelf that stared back at him.

A wedding gift.

The irony of it all wasn’t lost on him as he forwent a glass and drank straight from the bottle in hopes of drowning all thoughts of you.

The bottle was halfway empty when he gave up.

#maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord x valerie lord x reader #valerie lord #valerie lord x reader #ww 1984 #ww1984 #WW84 #wonder woman 1984 #ROOSASUT

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itsmattsunshinehere · 4 years

Note

Hello!! I was wondering if you could do a scenario with matsukawa and a shy reader? They get paired up for a project and matsukawa has never spoken to her bc she’s always quiet but as he gets to know her, he finds out she’s actually really funny bc she sends memes and they eventually fall in love 🤧 abit cliche but I’d love it 👉🏼👈🏼

Of course I can! I love Mattsun, so I’m always happy to write something with my sweet angel :)

I didn’t know how to put memes so there aren’t any BUT actually there are some nerdy jokes (wich I adore), like really really bad jokes. I kinda have the feeling Matsukawa only know these lmao, he’s dumb (BUT WE LOVE HIM). I hope it’s okay for you, please don’t hate me.

Thanks for your request, hope you like it! 😘💘

-L

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

A Change of Heart.

Matsukawa Issei x reader

synopsis: Matsukawa has never spoken to you, but something changes after you two being paired together for a school project.

word count: 2.1 K

tags: fluff

~~~

Matsukawa Issei. Of all the possible people, he was the last of your classmates you thought you could be paired with for group project. You don't have any problems with him, you don't find him annoying or anything else, it’s just that sometimes you forget about the presence of some of your classmates, Matsukawa included: you are a shy girl and you almost never talk during lessons; you often get distracted thinking about your own business, it is normal for you to not notice the people you don’t talk to, even more if they tend to be as quite as you.

On his side, even Issei hasn’t noticed you, too busy sleeping a few desks away from you: the night before he went to bed late, staying up until one o'clock only to play computer games with some friends.

Anyway, he's your science project partner and you can't do anything about it, even if you prefer to work alone and organize everything to your liking all by yourself, you'll have to collaborate with him and as you, even the guy agrees that for the sake of your GPA it will be essential to try to get along and cooperate. That's why at the end of the class, before your math teacher arrives, your project partner comes to your desk.

"Good morning Matsukawa-san." You greet him shyly, his height puts you slightly in awe, you’ve never noticed how tall he actually is.

"’Morning Y/N-san, apparently we are project companions." He replies to you yawning a little distracted, without looking too sure on what he’s saying; you get the impression that he would like to have been paired with someone else, probably one of his friends, but you try not to pay too much attention to your thoughts.

"Yes, that's correct." You nod looking at him again with a patient smile on your lips.

"I thought that maybe we could exchange our phone numbers to organize on what to do and when to see each other." The boy still keeps his eyes away from yours not looking at you but rather looking up at two of your classmates who are throwing a ball just a few feet from you. You smile at him once more and take your agenda, ripping off a sheet, and after writing some numbers, you give it to him.

"Here to you, I am almost always free every afternoon after six. How about starting in two days, maybe this Wednesday? Is it okay for you?" you ask him, and after thinking about it for a few minutes, as if he were consulting his own agenda mentally, the boy in front of you nods and after greeting you, he turns back to his desk.

You didn't think there were people quieter than you. Or maybe he thinks you’re boring. But what could you have done to him to make you so annoying? You put aside your bad thoughts and focus on the rest of the lessons, more concerned about your grades than the idea that your partner has of you. Of course, sometimes you tend to have no self-esteem, not trusting you’re decisions, but having never spoken to him, he has no reason to hate you, so you don't worry too much about what he might think of you.

But while you don't care about his thoughts, Issei can't say the same for himself: he's curious about what kind of girl you are, what a hobby you have... Why are you only free after six?? Are you in any club? Would you like to go to college? Are you moving to Tokyo next year as most of your classmates? He'd like to ask you so many questions, you intrigue him in a certain way, and he can't deny that you're a pretty girl. He finds adorable how you carry the pencil on your lips every time you stare at the sky out the window.

The two days pass fast, and from Monday you are almost immediately to Wednesday afternoon in the library, you waiting for him at the table on the corner and he who has to run because, due to Oikawa and his obsession with improving the whole team’s service, he is definitely late. The boy looks out the door of the room and rushes you to a table near the windows, listening to music with headphones in your ears and studying some subject. He joins you, slowing down the pace trying not to make any noise.

"Y/N-san." He calls you whispering, but you don't hear him, which is why he tries to get your attention by touching your arm as he sits by your side and you gasp surprised, causing him to giggle.

"I'm sorry if I scared you." You look at the boy with a gentle smile, moving your hand and telling him that he doesn’t have to worry.

“It's nothing, I was doing chemistry homework for tomorrow, but I can't calculate the reaction and find the name of this binary salt.” You say giving up your homework, changing the page of the book and taking the section assigned to you for your work.

"You know chemists are great solving problems? They have all the solutions." Matsukawa replay with a smile, taking your notebook and looking at what you've written.

"I tried telling a chemistry joke once, but I got no reaction." You watch the boy with a grin as Matsukawa lifts his head up surprised, definitely not expecting a joke from you, but you instead look at him laughing at his expression and Matsukawa gives you a sincere smile chuckling.

Time passes quickly as you organize your project and decide what and how to expose it to your classmates. You divide your work and begin your research together, each one giving his own contribution to the other, to try to make it better and giving a sense to what you are doing. When you look at the phone you realize that it is now seven and a half o'clock in the evening and you inform your project partner, who nods and you two begin to pick up your books. Matsukawa is faster than you, so waits for you at the library entrance.

"Y/N-san, I wanted to ask you a question." He tells you while he’s walking by your side, and you can't help but think about how many centimeters there are between you two. You nod kindly with your head.

"How come you never talk? You're funny." He asks you a little hesitantly, and you think for a second about what to answer. You don't know that either, it's not that you don't have any friends, it’s just that you're not the kind of person who starts a conversation. You have no problem talking to others, you just don't like to take the first step.

"Sorry, maybe I was too rude." Matsukawa says softly, worried that he has maybe offended you in some way, but you shake your head with a smile, trying to make him understand that he didn't do anything wrong.

"No don't worry. I can't give you an answer, I think it's just my character. I'm a very shy girl and I tend to stand all by myself, but I've never had a problem talking to people. Once I know someone, I have no problem opening up." you answer him by giving him yet another smile of the day.

Matsukawa looks at you as you walk past him and reach the school gate: part of him that morning had been convinced that he would be bored with you, he felt like you were a serious person, unable to make jokes or something similar. Yet you have happily surprised him, showing a side of your character that you keep secret and that maybe you only show to your closest friends. He feels a bit special.

You reach the gate and you greet him by according to meet at Friday at the same time and so on the following Monday, ending up meeting on those three days every week throughout the entire month, in the library at six in the afternoon.

It has become a habit for you, as well as exchanging messages, during lessons or in your free time. You start spending more and more time together, on lunch breaks you join Matsukawa with his friends in the school canteen, having fun joking with Hanamaki. Matsukawa feels that something has changed. He understands that he has started looking at you differently, seeing you always beautiful and always happy. He understands it from how he has started to notice details on your face; that little mole on your chin, how you tie your hair when you're focused on some math exercise.

A change in his heart.

He starts to think that yours are no longer just moments where you study, but that they are slowly evolving into something more intimate, much more like dating, where you joke and talk about anything. As you tell him how you would like to travel the world, he tells you about the few places he has visited abroad; while you talk to him about the reading club you're a part of, he tells you about his passion for volleyball and his dream of going to the Nationals tournament with his team. You unravel your secrets to each other, without fear, fully trusting each other.

Until one day, when Iwaizumi seeing him smiling atone of your message suggests him something, a particular idea that remains stuck in his head for days.

"You should ask her out." The ace tells him with conviction and the middle blocker looks at him doubtful, not too convinced that you may be interested in dating him.

"Definitely, you can’t take your eyes off her and you're always distracted. Push your pride aside and make the first move before someone takes her away from you." Hanamaki speaks by sitting on the bench next to him and taking a sip from his water bottle. Matsukawa bursts into laughter, though he can't deny that a certain annoying feeling has awakened in him. Maybe jealousy? Impossible, unless...?

The days pass and the date of the presentation of your project approaches, until you arrive at the last Friday before you have to expose your work in front of the whole class, Iwaizumi's words have not yet disappeared from Issei’s mind, as well as those of Hanamaki. What if someone realizes what a beautiful person you are and asks you out? Maybe he should make a move, or maybe they just told him to annoy him... he walks through the corridors until you reach the library that you have been frequented for just over a month. He sees you sitted in your usual place with the usual headphones in your ears and the usual chemistry notebook under your eyes.

He comes near you, moving the chair next to you and sitting to your right and you as always don't even notice him, too caught up in what you're doing. He touches your arm and as always you gasp, quickly turning towards him, while Matsukawa giggles for your reaction. You tongue out and punch him on his shoulder.

"You know you scare my Issei!" you scold him while once again the boy next to you takes your notebook and looks at what's wrong with your equations, remembering when few minutes before you text him that you couldn't do anything.

"Here you go. You miscalculated." Matsukawa answers by giving you back your notebook.

"Forget hydrogen, you're my number one element!" you smile him while he giggles a bit.

"Oh, it's that time of the day where we tell each other stupid chemistry jokes?" he asks you chuckling and you nod happily.

"Well I hope you love science, because tonight we are going to have a chemical reaction." The boy immediately answers you and you can't hold back a laugh, getting the attention of the last remaining students that like you are study and the librarian, who throws you glances from behind her desk. Embarrassed, you apologize and look over Matsukawa, while the boy has a sip of water.

"How about you ask me out first?" you whisper him, blushing instantly, and the boy almost chokes with water and begins coughing, while you try to help him, this time you're the one giggling for the other’s reaction.

Once calmed down, Matsukawa looks up at you, as red as you. Did you really say that? He tries to think of what to answer quickly, not wanting to waste the opportunity.

"There’s a Cafe where they make delicious pancakes." He proposes you embarrassed and you look at him happy, beginning to pick up your books under Matsukawa's eye.

"It’d be amazing." You stand up slowly, sticking your hand out with a smile. Matsukawa copies your movements and gets up taking his backpack. He squeezes your hand with a wink.

“Let’s go.”

#hq #haiky?!!#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#matsukawa #matsukawa issei #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #haikyuu matsukawa #matsukawa scenario #matsukawa imagine #aoba matsukawa #aoba johsai x reader #aoba johsai #hq matsukawa #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios

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softyoongiionly · 5 years

Text

Fear and Dumplings: Chapter Fourteen

(GIF isn’t mine)

Confronting your fears for a final grade sounds unappealing but, with Yoongi as your partner, things might not be so bad.

Summary: You’re in your final semester at University when your Abnormal Psychology professor assigns you a partnered project surrounding your greatest fears. Lucky for you, your partner just so happens to be a cute boy named Min Yoongi.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Underground Rapper! Yoongi, Soft!!! Yoongi, Fluff!!!, some moderate angst (later), smut (later later), slow-ish? burn.

Word Count: 10.3k (lol, i wanna die)

A/N: please scream along with me as I drown in a pile of emotion. I’m sorry the last three chapters have been so emotional, yoongi is a complicated boi and, needs roughly 25k to get out all of his feelings. ALSO, the next chapter will finally feature Jimin’s showcase, please send him love and good luck. Not like he needs it lmao

I LOVE YOU

Warnings for this Chapter: moderate angst, SMUT (oh my god its alot), mentions of anxiety and hardship, language, too many feelings.

Warnings for the Fic: mentions characters confronting their fears, characters in uncomfortable situations, emotional moments between characters, mentions of bad parenting, explicit language throughout the fic, moderate angst, and very explicit smut later in the story.

Chapter 14: Angels and Angels

“Jimin, if you move again, I’m going to shove this needle into your perfectly sculpted butt cheek…” You mutter, pinching Jimin’s ass, the sweat on your brow growing significantly.

This causes a giggle to erupt from your best friend, who is currently contorting his body so that he can stare at himself in the mirror.

“Yah! Do you miss your little boyfriend that much that you have to take your sexual frustration out on me?” Jimin wiggles his ass in your face and, you admonish him with a smack to his hip as you try your best to finish sewing his costume.

Jimin called you that morning in a panic after he had ripped his showcase outfit during rehearsal so, you had quickly rushed over after your morning classes to resolve his crisis.

“He’s not my boyfriend…” You counter, a smile threatening your mouth, “I do miss him though…”

Jimin stalls his movements, allowing you to finish up, “You really like him don’t you?”

The smile comes in full force but, thankfully Jimin is facing away from you when it does.

“Maybe…”

He rolls his eyes but, allows your vague response, turning slightly to examine your handy work, “You should invite him tomorrow, I still haven’t met him…”

There is a flutter in your stomach at Jimin’s suggestion. You know that Jimin gets extra credit for the number of people that attend and, having Yoongi there would fill an extra seat.

All the more reason to invite him…

“I mean, it’s a big night for you Minnie, if you’re ok with him being there then, I’ll see if he’s free.” You attempt to keep your tone casual but, you’re slightly nervous at the thought of Yoongi being there as your date.

Professor James cancelled Tuesday’s lecture due to illness and, Yoongi texted you Thursday morning that he wouldn’t be in class that day. Not seeing him for an entire week didn’t exactly sit well with you but, you were determined to not read too much into his absence.

Jimin smirks, smoothing his hands over his hips, head tilting side to side in the mirror, “It’s my fourth showcase Y/N, it’s not that big of a deal…”

A scoff leaves your lips, “Um??? It’s your senior showcase, you’re the reigning champion and, you’re about to make history as the only collegiate dancer to win the showcase four years in a row; of course it’s a big deal!”

He giggles as you shove him playfully, a bit of nervousness creeping into his gaze, “You really think I’m going to win again?”

“Jimin,” You turn him towards you, holding each of his wrists in your hands, “I know you’re going to win again.”

His beautiful smile graces his lips as he thrusts himself in your arms, the white sequins scratching against your skin. You hold him anyway though, you know he needs it.

“Thank you…” He mumbles into your hair, “I don’t know what I’d do without you…”

You smile into his neck, the warmth of Jimin’s words filling your heart, “Oh Jimin….I don’t know what you’d do either…”

He pinches your side, “YAH! Don’t be mean! I would survive…maybe…”

Squirming out of his hold, you giggle, patting his hip gently, “I don’t know what I’d do without you either Park Fairy. I’d probably die…”

He points at you,” Exactly, don’t be a brat…” His tone his firm but, the smile on his lips is hard to miss. Jimin turns his attention back towards his full length mirror again to examine his costume.

It’s a beautiful piece, skintight, covered in white sequins and, thin pearlescent lycra that hug Jimin’s body perfectly. You wondered if this was his entire costume as Jimin was known for quite an elaborate set up.

“I love this costume by the way, it’s beautiful,” You marvel, putting all of your sewing tools back in their box, “Is the theme still a surprise or can you end my suffering and tell me?”

Jimin smirks, eyes carefully scanning over his backside,” It’s still a surprise, my leotard is only the base piece, I have a lot more in store…”

“RIP my mascara…” You lament, snapping your sewing kit shut before grabbing your phone off of the coffee table, “Should I text him now?”

He giggles, amusement coloring his face as he turns to you, “Why do you look so nervous?”

“I’m not nervous.” You grumble, thumbs tapping away at your screen to get to your message thread with the dreamiest rapper on Earth aka Min Yoongi.

The last message that you sent him was wishing him luck on the rest of his composition, which he has been working tirelessly at for the last half of the semester. He only responded with a thumbs up emoji and, that was yesterday at 7:49pm.

Suddenly, as your fingers hover over the keys, you feel slightly insecure at the lack of communication between the two of you. Last weekend had been amazing and, Yoongi made sure that you arrived back at your apartment safely and during the week he had said something to the effect of ‘I miss you’ without actually saying it.

Jimin notices your hesitation, “What’s wrong?”

Your teeth find purchase on your lip but, you avoid his gaze and focus in on your phone.

“Nothing…I just_” A sigh leaves your lips as you tap the screen to keep it from going black, “ I don’t know… Yoongi and I had a really good time last weekend and, I’m used to not really hearing from him but, I kind of thought after everything that happened between us, there would be a little more communication. I don’t expect him to text me all day or anything but, we both agreed that we liked each other….a lot so, I thought he’d…”

“Act like a boyfriend?” Jimin offers, a bit of his playfulness diminishing, focusing in on your emotions.

The word sends butterflies through your stomach but, you shove them out, trying not to drown in your emotions.

“No…I mean yeah but, like we aren’t together yet so, I can’t expect him to…I don’t know…” Articulating your emotions is not always your strong suit and, for whatever reason, you seem to become especially impaired when Yoongi is involved.

“Jagi…” Jimin begins, sitting beside you, the sequins scratching your skin as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “…you’re allowed to want his attention regardless of whether or not you both have a title. Titles are nice but, the feelings are much more important…”

You deflate a little bit, leaning into Jimin, your teeth still working against your lip, “I really like him…like I want to wake up next to him and, make him breakfast and do cute shit with him and, I’m not used to feeling like this and, I want to crawl into a hole and, never come out…”

Your pink fairy giggles, pressing a kiss to your head “Yah, you’re not allowed to crawl into a hole, my showcase is tomorrow…”

“Can I do it after your showcase?” You mutter against his leotard, your thumb tapping your screen again to ensure that it doesn’t go black.

Jimin scoffs, “I literally just told you that I can’t live without you, do you want me to die?”

His brows are raised in playful accusation and, you try your best not to get to distracted by how adorable he is.

“No...” You grumble, lips fixed in a firm pout

He chuckles now, nudging your hand towards your phone, “Okay then, text him.”

With a roll of your eyes, you unlock your phone for the third time and, begin typing your message.

You: Hey, I’m not sure what you’re up to tomorrow, I know you’ve been working on your composition but, my best friend is performing in a dance showcase in the main theater. Do you want to come? I figured we could carpool and, maybe get dinner afterwards or something? Let me know when you get a chance!

By the end of your message, you feel your heart doing somersaults beneath your sternum. Why the hell were you so nervous? Shouldn’t you be passed this by now?

“See? I knew you could do it...” Jimin cheers, kissing your head once more before moving to carefully take off his costume.

“Yes, now I just have to endure a slow painful death while waiting for him to respond...” A sickly sweet smile is on your mouth which causes Jimin to throw his head back in laughter.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the dramatic one in this friendship?”

“No Jimin, you’re the beautiful and talented main character and, I...”You gesture to your chest, “...am your socially inept, quirky side kick...”

This earns another boisterous round of laughter from your best friend who is currently checking out his nearly naked body in the mirror.

“Okay, first of all, thank you for calling me beautiful. Second of all, you’re can’t possibly be the sidekick...”

Your eyes narrow, “Why not?”

Jimin whips around in your direction, bubblegum hair a disheveled mess ontop of his head, a brilliant smile on his pretty lips,

“Because you’re my hero...”

With a mouth parted in shock, you process just how ridiculous your best friend is. At your expression,

Jimin rushed into another fit of laughter as you respond.

“Alexa, play Hate That I Love You by Rihanna...”

------------------

After Jimin leaves, you wait approximately 5 hours before getting a response from Yoongi. The response does nothing to aid in soothing your nerves:

Yoongi: Hey sorry it took me so long to respond. I’ve been working, I think I may be able to go but, I was wondering what you were doing right now. I’m having some trouble sorting through something, I know it’s late though, so I understand if you’re sleeping.

Your brow furrows. His message seems odd but, you don’t want to pass up an opportunity to see him. Plus, you definitely wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that he’s having an issue.

You: I can come by, what’s the address? Are you ok?

5 more minutes pass before another message comes in,

Yoongi: I just want to hang out, this week has been kind of rough.

Yoongi: 8294 Han Road. I’m in the 4th studio space. Just ring the front and, tell them you’re here for me, they should let you through. Sorry it’s so late.

You frown at his admission, wanting nothing more than to be with him now that you know your suspicion is correct.

You: Don’t be sorry, I’ll be there as soon as I can.

His message comes through within seconds and, you can’t help but feel a little nervous at seeing him in his studio. There’s also this feeling; a feeling that indicates that something is wrong. Yoongi has never asked you to come see him and, that paired with his odd behavior this past week has your stomach in knots.

What if he didn’t want to see you anymore?

You both agreed that you liked eachother but, life was busy for the both of you. The conversation on the Ferris wheel inches its way back to the forefront of your mind. Yoongi said that you two getting together would be a bad idea, was he returning to that conclusion?

He never explained why he felt that way in the first place.

The Uber ride to Yoongi’s studio costs you $9.78. You didn’t realize how close he was to your apartment and, as the car pulls up to the faded brick building, you feel your heartbeat grow to an alarming level.

“Thank you, have a good night…”

“No problem, have a good one.”

The exchange with the driver is short and, given that he didn’t talk to you the entire car ride, you decide to rate him 5 stars.

As you approach the front entrance, you notice the soft blue neon sign hanging off of the door that reads: SoundCrowd.

Clever.

You’re definitely in the right place.

The door swings open effortlessly and, you’re met with an empty lobby. Tables, chairs and, various flyers containing the studios information are the only things that greet you when you walk in. The clear glass that separates the lobby from the reception desk make the whole place feel like some sort of medical clinic; it’s not exactly a beacon of creative energy. You hope Yoongi’s studio space was less clinical.

“Can I help you?” A deep but, friendly voice calls from behind the glass.

The receptionist is an older guy, maybe in his mid-30s, wearing what looks to be a ghost busters pajama set.

“Yeah, I was looking for Yoongi? He said he was in the 4th studio space…”

The man smirks knowingly, “You’re here for Min huh? Tell you what, I’ll let you through but, you have to promise me you’ll try to get him to go home. The dude’s been here for like four days straight…”

Your brow furrows, “Four days? Are you serious, he hasn’t gone home or anything?”

The man clicks his tongue, “I live upstairs, and his car’s been here since Monday. He used my shower about an hour ago but, other than that, I don’t even think he’s left the room…”

A sigh leaves your lips at the information, “Jesus.”

“Are you his girlfriend?”

The word makes your heart go fuzzy and, your first instinct is to say yes but, the last thing you need is for Yoongi to find out that you made your relationship official without him.

“Uh no, we’re just_” You trail off, searching for the right word, “we’re dating but, he’s been a friend of mine for quite a while…”

He smirks, waving you over to him, “No need to explain, I’m just happy Min is getting some sort of human interaction. He’s been a god tier introvert ever since I’ve known him. I’m Sejin by the way…”

A hand is extended through the opening in the glass and, you accept it graciously, bowing your head.

“Y/N,” You smile, “it’s really good to meet you. How long have you guys known each other?”

Sejin squints his eyes for a moment, tilting his head in thought, “Oh geez uh, let’s see, Yoongi’s 25 this year…uh…ten years maybe?”

Your brows go up, “Oh wow, are you from Daegu too?”

At your seemingly normal question, Sejin grows visibly uncomfortable, as if a realization just crossed his brain. You fear you may be asking too many questions but before you can amend, Sejin speaks up again.

“Uh, Yoongi’s never mentioned me has he?”

“No, he hasn’t, I’m sorry…” You smile looking towards the buzzer near Seijin’s hand, wishing you would have just asked him to buzz you in.

“Oh don’t be sorry at all,” A soft smile is sent your way as he sees that you may have gotten the wrong impression. Sejin nods toward the door, “Yoongi lived with me for a while when he first came to the city, I’m a friend of his older brother. I’m sure he’ll tell you more about it if you ask; Here let me buzz you in, he’ll be straight down the hall to your right.”

Confusion swirls in the forefront of your mind but, you smile nonetheless, turning towards the door, “Thank you so much, it was nice meeting you.”

He bows his head, offering a small smile, “Nice meeting you too.”

There are rooms lining either side of the long hallway, some of which emit a low hum of music through their barriers. Yoongi certainly isn’t the only night owl plugging away in the building.

Turning right at the end of the hall, you’re met with a black door boasting a sign that read “#4.” The irregular heartbeat is back as you raise your hand to knock at the door but, your desire to finally see Yoongi after nearly a week overruns the nervousness that you feel.

“Come in.” You hear his voice through the door and, quickly, you turn the knob and, let yourself in.

You’re met with a confusing sight.

The studio space was dimly lit with a low hanging turquoise fixture that sends a calming wave of light throughout the small room. The walls contain various speakers and, electrical equipment and, along with a work desk, you notice a giant monitor, nearly the size of a flat screen and, every production tool that any musician could ever dream of. However, there was also several indicators that Sejin was right about Yoongi never leaving this room. There’s a black pull out couch on the right side of the room that looks like he hasn’t been slept in, a few pieces of Yoongi’s clothes scattered on the floor and, perhaps the most disturbing thing is the overflowing trashcan in the far corner of the room containing nothing but empty coffee cups. From what you can tell, there isn't a single take out box so, that either means that Yoongi has been taking his food trash out or, that he hasn’t been eating at all.

And then there’s Yoongi, who’s just turned to look at whoever just came through his door. He’s sitting in the black desk chair, dressed in a pair of torn up black jeans and a grey hoodie, his formerly platinum hair is a faded brown now and damp from his shower. He musters a small smile for you, his normally cat like eyes are sunken in, clearly from a lack of sleep and, his lips are chapped, another indicator that he hasn’t been taking care of himself.

“Hey you…” You smile, setting your purse down by the door, trying to gauge what’s going through his mind.

“Hi…um thank you for coming…” He rasps, his eyes shifting nervously over you, fingers itching to reach out for you.

You shake your head, “Of course, is everything ok?”

Yoongi opens his mouth immediately as if he’s already has an answer prepared but, he deflates soon after, looking at you helplessly, “No, not really I-“

He takes a deep breath, looking away from you, trying to keep it together. You don’t say a word as you close the space between you, moving to stand in front of his seated figure. Instantly, you pull him into a warm hug, holding him tightly, not needing him to explain just yet.

Yoongi feels so much of the tension melt away from his body as he feels your embrace, his arms coming up to reciprocate, burying his face into your hip.

The two of you don’t speak for a few seconds but, you feel Yoongi shake silently, not daring to untuck his face from you as he lets the tears spill over his eyes.

This causes your heart to shatter but, you don’t break the silence yet, allowing him to process his pain how he needs to. You keep him close though and, rub his back soothingly as he collects himself.

“I’m sorry…” He mumbles into your yellow sweatshirt, regretting that he’s staining the material with tears, “I should have texted you more, I just…this week’s been really hard.”

You shake your head, holding him tighter, “Don’t be sorry, I knew you were working on your project this week, it’s completely ok…”

This is said for his benefit of course, you didn’t want him to worry about your fear that he had lost interest when he clearly had something much more pressing going on.

“I wanted to text you…the first night I got like this but-“ He cuts himself off to sniffle, still not releasing you from his grip. “I didn’t want to bother you, or freak you out or anything…”

“Hey-“ You tilt his face towards yours, thumbing away one of the tears that is attempting to roll down his face, “-you’re never a bother to me, especially if something is wrong…”

He turns his face to place a gentle kiss against your thumb before sighing out shakily against your skin, “I can’t get this fucking song right Y/N. I’ve been at this for 5 months now and, it always comes out wrong, I’ve rewritten it like 10 different times and, I can’t do it. It’s shitty. I’m not cut out for this, I’m not good enough to go pro, I should’ve_”

He trails off, his eyes reddening as the tears collect once more at the corners of his eyes, “ I should’ve listened to my father, he told me to major in business, he said this would happen and, he was fucking right.”

His words create a deep ache within your heart.

How could someone so talented, doubt their abilities so much?

It’s not the first time you’ve seen it but, you’ve yet to understand it.

“I know you’re upset, I know that this seems impossible right now and, you’re unbelievably frustrated but, Yoongi…” You tilt his head back towards yours, your gaze growing firmer, “You were born to do this. You are the most talented musician I’ve ever known and, the quality of your stuff? The way you write, the way you think, it’s a sign. It’s a sign that this is what you’re meant to do. You’re not meant to be in a suit, slaving away at a corporate job you don’t even like, that’s what everyone else is doing. Yes, it may be more stable, it may provide a steady income and, give your parents something to brag about but, it isn’t you. Your happiness is in music, I can see that. You light up when you talk about it, you lit up on that fucking stage, and had half the city eating out of the palm of your hands. You are so incredible, you have no idea…”

Yoongi feels his heart swell in his chest, no one has ever spoken to him about his music like this, not with this much passion. But then again, Yoongi’s never known another person like you, he’s never known another that can make him feel so good.

“But jagi…the song…it’s not coming together, my professor is going to hate it…” He urges, anxiety still squirming around in his stomach. He wraps his arms around you tighter though, feeling a bit of comfort at your words.

“Did you think the crowd at Glacier was going to hate your song too?” You point out and, as you do, he bites his lip, sniffling again.

“Yeah…I did…”

A hand is carded gently through his damp hair as you smile down at him, “And look what happened Agust D, you became the city’s champion underground rapper. Did you lock yourself up in this studio and live off of Americanos for weeks on end then too?”

A smile threatens his lips, “You remembered my order…” he sighs, nodding reluctantly at your question, “I do this a lot…”

A breath is released through your nose as you smile gently at his observation but, the frown between your brows remains, “I don’t want to tell you how to live your life Yoongi but, you can’t do this to yourself. I know self-doubt can be borderline parasitic sometimes but, you have to try and cut yourself some slack. I know how hard anxiety can be, I know it can make you feel like the world is coming to an end but, please know that you are so much more capable than you realize. Sometimes it helps to step away from something and, revisit it when you’ve had time to clear your head. I have to do that with my proposals all the time…”

Yoongi moves back slightly to wipe a hand over his face, taking a deep breath as he nods in consideration of your words, “You’re right…I know you’re right. It’s just hard for me not to fall into this cycle sometimes. I got help when I started school, for my anxiety and, it helped but, old habits die hard you know? I just start overthinking everything…I can never get rid of that part.”

You lean down to press a kiss to his forehead before slowly helping him to his feet. “You might not ever get rid of that, you’re only human. Overthinking is my first reaction too but, over the years, I’ve slowly learned to not trust every crazy scenario my brain comes up with.”

He smiles and, this time you see it reach his eyes, the sight calms you significantly. “You’re…”

Yoongi shakes his head, “I knew you’d say the right thing, you always do…”

“Come here.” You smile, pulling him into a hug, tucking your face into his neck, “I’m sorry you’ve been going through this…try to reach out earlier next time ok? So this doesn’t go on so long, you know I’m here for you.”

He nods sagely, rubbing his hands on your lower back, “ I will, I promise…”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roughly an hour later, after you’ve gotten Yoongi to eat a good meal, the two of you start indulging in one another, the lack of contact starting to get to both of you.

Your lips peck against Yoongi’s gently, just as a means to soothe him, your hands placed firmly on his shoulders.

“I just...” He whispers against your mouth, attempting to melt away against your touch.

He needs it, now more than ever.

“Hm?” You hum gently, combing your fingers through his hair, nails scratching tenderly at his scalp.

“I just don’t want to think anymore.” He breathes, responding more and more to the kisses placed against his lips.

The column of his throat is eagerly arching towards your lips in a silent invitation. At the sight of his swallow, tender flesh, you frown at the lack of color there.

“Your marks are gone.” You murmur, kissing the corner of his mouth

Yoongi swears he wants to cry. He's kept his distance all week, trying to make sense of his emotions, trying to perfect his composition. But now, with you here, touching him, loving on him, he realizes how desperate he is for you; for relief.

“Make new ones please...I just want to stop thinking...help me.” He practically keens his response but, he keeps it in check for the most part, not wanting you to consent for the wrong reasons.

You bring your eyes to his, holding his desperate gaze, a smirk beginning to play on your lips.

“How do you want me to help you?” You tease, encouraging him to articulate his desires.

His cheeks flush even more, his Adams apple bobbing as he attempts to swallow back his nerves.

He doesn’t know what’s come over him but, your tone compels him to his knees and, as his jean clad limbs touch the tile, he speaks, “You know...you know me, you know how to take care of me...”

The response goes straight between your thighs; his small voice, his display of respect, you can tell this is something he’s had on his mind or awhile and, after the week he’s endured, you conclude that he needs to let loose.

A finger is curled under his chin, directing his cat-like eyes up towards your own. You can tell he’s nervous but, the way he shifts eagerly on the floor tells you he’s more than ready for you.

“You think so?” You coo, thumbing over his chin, smirking down at him

He nods eagerly at the conclusion of your first sentence but, continues to nod throughout your teasing.

“Use your words...” You urge, tightening your grip on his chin, admiring how beautiful he is on his knees.

“Ye--...” His voice is already shot so, he clears his throat attempting to speak clearer, “Yes...”

Your teeth press into your bottom lip, as your hand moves from his chin to push his faded brown hair away from his forehead.

“You want me to call the shots so you don’t have to?” You’re taking your time to rile him up, knowing it will pay off for him in the end.

Another eager nod comes from Yoongi as he pushes against your hand, his doll-like lips going dry from his heavy breathing.

“Yeah...I trust you; I’ll be so good for you, I promise.” He vows, lips brushing against your wrist, his dark eyes never once leaving yours. “Please…”

You tug on his hair then, drawing a whimper deep from within his chest. Yoongi feels his nipples harden as the pain pricks deliciously against his scalp.

“You like this right? When I pull on it?”

“Yes.” He breathes, shivering as your fingers brush across his lips and, down over his neck.

“And...” You whisper, keeping your tone gentle as your hand wraps around Yoongi’s throat.

This causes him to exhale shakily, his cautious eyes widening like saucers as he stares up at you.

“Wh-…"

You attempt to finish your sentence but, Yoongi’s shaky voice beats you to it, his request tumbling clumsily past his lips.

“Fuck...please choke me...”

He sounds so weak and, yet so sure of himself at the same time. You two had just begun breaching your sexual interests but, stepping into true dominant/submissive roles is something you’ve yet to do.

Whatever is about to happen, is going to be completely new territory for the both of you.

The tightening around Yoongi’s throat makes him see stars; he feels like one of those cartoon characters that’s just been hit with a ton of bricks. Its intoxicating.

“Oh-” Yoongi’s voice is raspier underneath your grip, his dick plumping up painfully against the zipper of his jeans.

“You like when I choke you?” You coo, still holding his throat but, decreasing the pressure slightly.

He nods, gasping as you tighten your grip again, testing the waters. Yoongi can already feel the dampness in his jeans but, he doesn’t care, he wants so much more tonight; he wants you to ruin him.

“Use your words...” You remind him gently, urging him to open up as your free hand combs back through his hair.

He exhales shakily once again, “Yes...”

A fond smile is on your face then as you take a moment to run your fingers through his chestnut locks. You slowly urge him towards you so that he’s close enough to rest his chin against the center of your stomach. Yoongi stares up eagerly, awaiting instructions, his breathing uneven and, you take the small moment of silence to tug on his hair again. This causes his hands to come up and grip your outer thighs in desperation and, if he wasn’t already suffering in his jeans before, he definitely is now.

With a salacious smirk you slowly bend at the waist so you can brush your lips against Yoongi’s, holding his gaze all the while, “I need a safe word from you...can you think of one for me?”

Yoongi can’t think of anything aside from you at the moment along with his painfully hard dick threatening to bust out of his jeans but, he tries his best to wrack his brain for a suitable answer.

“Dragon.”

He scans your face for approval, hoping his choice was sufficient and, if you weren’t fulfilling the role of caretaker, you would be melting onto the floor right now.

“Dragon it is...” You smile, combing a hand through his hair again, resisting the urge to tug on it, “You use that word anytime you need to ok? And we’ll stop...”

Yoongi returns your smile, exhaling at the touch of your fingers, “Ok...”

“Good boy.” The words are spoken into his hair when you lean over to kiss the top of his head. His hands haven’t moved from the outside of your thighs and, at the touch of your lips, he squeezes them again, “Stand up for me.”

At your request, you move away from him, offering your hands as support. Yoongi looks at them tentatively before interlocking his fingers with yours and, slowly moving to his feet. Through the holes in his jeans, you can see how red his knees got from kneeling on the floor.

You want the rest of him to match...

“Come here...” You practically coo at him, curling a finger in your direction, beckoning him towards you. Yoongi never takes his eyes off of you as he takes the three steps necessary to reach you. As he stands before you, you keep his eye contact and, curl your fingers underneath the hem of his grey hoodie.

“Arms up.”

He obliges immediately, raising them high above his head, allowing you to slowly pull the material off of his body. Yoongi feels the hairs on his arms stand at attention as the cooler air of the studio hits his exposed skin. Without instruction you hook a finger underneath his chin and, silently bring his lips to yours. The two of you kiss, slow and sweet, taking time to lull deeper into one another. Your tongue slips in first, laving against Yoongi’s timid but eager mouth, as your hands begin slowly moving up the sides of his torso. A smirk is pushed into the kiss when Yoongi shivers at your touch, his whole body on fire for you.

“You trust me to take care of you right?” You murmur into his mouth and, not two seconds go by before he’s nodding. “You’re gonna be good for me?”

A half of a whimper slips out of Yoongi’s swollen lips, his hands come out to touch your waist as he nods again.

“Yes, I’ll be good...”

You smirk again, deciding that one of your goals tonight is to get Yoongi to feel more comfortable talking dirty to you. It’s a quality he possesses and, you can tell it’s something he’s into but, it takes a certain level of lust to send him there.

“Why are you gonna be good for me?” The question is spoken between a few kisses and, you can’t express the delight you feel when he’s cheeks go red again.

“Because-” His words are cut off as you slowly start to tickle your fingers over his ribs, the pads of your thumbs inching toward his erect nipples. “…. you deserve my respect. You deserve my obedience...”

Good answer.

“What makes me so deserving hm?” You coo against his neck, sucking gently against the sweet spot at the juncture of his collar bone. Before he can answer, you swipe your thumbs over his nipples. Yoongi swears he already feels like he’s going to pass out but, he does his best to answer coherently.

“All women deserve my respect but, you...” He breathes, his head falling back on his shoulders, exposing his skin to you,, his hips rutting forward as you continue brushing your thumbs over his nipples, “you’re the best woman I know...you always take care of me, you’re always so nice to me. I wanna give you everything I can, so I’m worthy for you.”

Yoongi is more than worthy enough for you but, given his history with insecurity, you can’t say his answer surprises you. However, if you weren’t melting into the floor before, you certainly are now.

“You are worthy angel, come here...” The whispered command brings Yoongi’s mouth back onto yours as he swears he could cry at the particular pet name you just chose.

Do you really think he’s an angel?

He can’t imagine why...

With your bodies pressed together and, your lips delicately tending to his, you speak again, initiating the rest of your plan, “Are you ready to play Yoongi?”

Another nod comes from the angel in question, his nose nudging against yours as he does,

“Mhm...”

God, you didn’t know you’d be this into his submission but, here you are, completely drenched and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“Sit down on the chair for me, hands on the arm rests.”

He follows orders, sitting down on his desk chair, spreading his legs to accommodate the throbbing erection pushing against his zipper. His long fingers curl over the edges of the arm rests as his chest rises and falls with his increasing heartrate.

You watch him carefully, mulling over multiple options that will hopefully make him cum so hard he can’t think straight. The first move you make is removing your hoodie, baring your black lacy bra to him: an article of clothing you chose specifically because you knew he liked it.

The thing is though, Yoongi is no ordinary man. When he’s truly submitting, he does nothing without permission, not even look at you. Even as you step in front of him, Yoongi’s eyes stay glued to the floor but, the ever increasing motion of his chest gives away his reaction.

“Didn’t you miss me Yoongi? Why aren’t you looking at me?” You grin, knowing the answer already

He shakes his head, not wanting you to misunderstand him, “I missed you, so much, I just hadn’t asked permission to look at you yet. May I look at you?”

“You may.”

He doesn’t need further coaxing. He immediately brings his eyes up to your body, scanning over you eagerly, wincing as he feels his dick twitch in his jeans.

“So pretty...” He murmurs, eyes full of adoration, “thank you for letting me see you...”

“Don’t look away.” You demand softly, smirking in his direction as you slowly unclip your bra, revealing your breasts to him. As the cool air of the studio hits your sensitive chest, your nipples harden causing Yoongi to finally lick his lips.

He wants them in his mouth so badly but, he wouldn’t dare question your plan. He knows you’re going to do right by him.

“Jagi...” Yoongi pulls in another deep breath to calm himself, resisting the urge to gawk at you, “you’re so beautiful...”

You’ve moved in closer to him, standing between his thighs in just your leggings before dipping down to kneel on the floor.

As your nails slowly slide up his legs, you respond, “I wish you knew how beautiful I think you are...maybe then you’d be able to see what I see.”

Yoongi’s lips part in awe of what you just said, feeling very overwhelmed before the two of you have even started.

“You think_” He exhales, eyes fluttering with the sensation of your fingers inching closer to the inseam of his jeans, “…you think I’m beautiful?”

Your fingers tickle over his inner thighs before crawling over his unstable hips and towards his zipper. As you reach his erection, your eyes travel to his, catching a glimpse of his fucked out expression. His pupils are dilated, his lips are swollen, cheeks pink and puffy like fresh cherry blossoms, his fingers twitch on the arm rests; he’s growing desperate with anticipation.

“You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen Min Yoongi. I wouldn’t be caught dead on my knees for any other man…” You whisper, holding his gaze as you yank down his zipper, the motion causing a gasp to leave his lips. The relief is minimal but, Yoongi is grateful that his swollen dick finally has the room fully stand at attention.

You deserve his full attention.

“You’re beautiful…” Is all he manages, his ability to form coherent sentences slowly slipping away.

His hips are lifted at your instructions as you pull his jeans and boxers from his hips, leaving him completely exposed to you. Yoongi feels a little insecure, his got a bit of a tummy on him as he’s been skipping the gym and, eating nothing but takeout the past few months. He didn’t shave either and, he’s waiting for some sort of negative reaction from you but, instead he feels the sharp pull of arousal in his stomach as you start kissing up his thighs.

“I should punish you for the way you’ve treated yourself this past week…” You admonish before taking the tender flesh of his inner thigh between your teeth, sucking hard enough to make him squirm.

Yoongi’s breath catches as he winces from the pain, his thigh jumping away from the sensation, “I’m sorry…I’m really sorry.”

Your tongue laves over the battered flesh before you make your way to the other thigh, taking time to blow cool air over his engorged dick. He shivers whilst thinking of what he would give to be in your mouth right now but, he won’t beg. He won’t try and sway you in any direction; he wants your full control.

“I told you last weekend not to talk shit to yourself didn’t I? So you can imagine my surprise when I come in here tonight and, you’re doing just that…you don’t want to disobey me do you?” You coo, pouting your lips before sucking his skin back between your teeth, creating an identical mark on his right thigh.

“Ah-“ He whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling rather tipsy at the sensation of pain, “No…of course not. I want to listen…”

A dark chuckle leaves your lips as you start placing kisses up his thigh, a wicked sense of delight coursing when his dick twitches towards your mouth, “Oh he wants to listen now does he? Is it because my lips are so close to your dick?”

Yoongi grips the arm rests, his fingers slipping off due to the sweat created by his palms. Despite the cool temperature of the room, he feels like he’s on fire, he doesn’t think his ever been this turned on in his life.

“No, that’s not the only reason…” His hips jerk along with his stomach trembling when he feels your nails tickle their way over his hips, “I want to be good for you.”

As your nails conclude their teasing over his lower stomach, you let them rest against his hip bones as you ask your next question, “Mm, then you’ll sit there like a good boy while I have my way with you then won’t you?”

Before he can answer your question, a ragged whimper leaves his throat when you scratch your nails harshly across his soft pale skin, leaving aggravated lines of red as you do.

“Oh my fucking god…” He mumbles, eyes watering when his dick does the impossible and swells further, “I’d sit here like a good boy no matter what you wanted to do to me…”

He confesses, his faded chestnut hair sticking to his forehead, his eyes completely blown out with lust.

You prepare your nails to scratch him again and tickle them up the sides of his body, taking a moment to brush your fingertips over his pert nipples. Yoongi’s body is really sensitive but, his chest in particular always garnishes a special reaction from him. Your nails settle right where his heart is and, you can actually feel it pounding against his chest, “I want you to touch yourself for me…can you do that?”

Yoongi lets out a shaky breath and, once again you interrupt his answer by dragging your nails across his chest, digging in harder this time.

He actually feels his dick leaking at the sensation whilst his body arches off the desk chair, craving more of your touch.

“I have to go slow…I’m so hard right now, I don’t know how I’m gonna last….” He warns, his eyes shifting in uncertainty and, you take the time to admire how utterly innocent he looks.

Yoongi may be intimidating to those who don’t know him but, to you, with you, he is the softest man you’ve ever known.

But now isn’t the time for tenderness, you know what he needs.

He needs to be ruined.

So you’ll do just that…

Your hand comes out to wrap around his neck which elicits another gasp from his pink lips, his body going limp at your touch. You squeeze gently, just enough to slow the air circulation and lean in so your lips can brush against his.

“You’ll last because I tell you to last, because this dick belongs to me doesn’t it?”

Yoongi’s face is weak with pleasure as he nods eagerly, a small whimper leaving his lips, “Uh huh…”

A smirk forms on your lips as you squeeze his throat a little tighter, his dick jumping in response, “Say it…”

“My…my dick is yours jagi…” He gasps when you use your free hand to brush gently over his aching nipples, the sensation a huge contrast from what you’re doing to his throat.

“Your cum is mine…” You egg him on, dragging the pad of your thumb gently over either of his nipples.

“Ugh fuck…” He curses, his eyes locking onto yours and lull in and out of focus, “My cum is yours…everything is yours…”

Licking your lips, you loosen your grip slightly, giggling wickedly as he tries to reach for your lips, “You want me to hurt you while you jack off baby?”

Yoongi swears you must be sent from heaven, or maybe hell, either way, he’s dancing on the edges of euphoria at the moment. It’s like you know exactly what he’s thinking, he’s never known anyone who can anticipate his desires so well.

“Mhm…” He hums, the sound edging very close to a coo.

There is something that crosses your mind, something you hadn’t thought of before this began: was Yoongi capable of going into subspace? Because the glossy eyed expression, the yearning look, the pliant posture and slack jaw, everything about him looks like he’s heading in that direction.

“Yeah? You want me to hurt you really good?”

His mouth falls open as soon as you slide your cupped hand up his throat, your thumb brushing tenderly against his lips, “Yeah…please hurt me…”

Oh fuck, he’s right there…

“Suck…” You command gently, staring into his eyes, which have started to glaze over at your touch. He takes your thumb in his mouth, sucking eagerly, holding your eyes for approval, laving his tongue against the tip of it. “show me how you touch yourself baby…”

He nods, still sucking on your thumb before removing his sweaty hand down to his aching length. Yoongi’s eyes squeeze shut as he slowly curves a fist around himself, and, his leg twitches when he starts stroking his dick.

The relief is instant and, you feel the vibrations of his moans against your thumb. As he works himself up, you move away from him to kneel back between his knees.

His breathing is heavier, his toes are fidgeting against the floor but, his eyes refuse to leave yours, even as they threaten to close from pleasure.

You slowly tease your nails down his chest, over his ribs and hips, dangerously close to his dick, over his now bruised inner thighs and, all the way down to his ankles.

He brushes his thumb over his tip, a small whimper leaving his lips as his eyes squeeze close at the sensation. He’s already close, you’ve been winding him up for the past 45 minutes but, he holds on desperately, not wanting this to end.

“What do you think about when you touch yourself Yoongi?”

He takes another shaky breath and, does his best to swallow properly, despite his mouth being completely dry, “Lately, all I think about is you…I don’t even watch porn that often…”

Before you ask another question, you dig your nails into his calves and slowly begin dragging them up his legs. His whole body jerks in response, his hand faltering over his tip, he has to pull away for a moment, he almost came right there.

“ohmygod….” He keens, mostly to his self, his wide eyes looking away for a moment while he desperately tries to get a hold of himself.

“Oh but, you do watch porn? You’re cumming for other women then?” You tease and, Yoongi would panic that you’re actually upset but, the playful smirk on your face tells him that you’re just giving him a hard time.

“I don’t watch women…” He breathes, a ghost of smirk now playing on his own lips, “I watch men mostly, women in porn are annoying…they’re all annoying honestly…”

This makes you giggle but, you feel yourself growing wetter at the thought of Yoongi, getting off to men.

“So you think of me sometimes?” You’re still teasing him and, he knows you’re fishing but, he’s so into you he doesn’t care; he’d write a fucking thesis on you if he had the time.

He shakes his head, stifling a moan as you drag your nails over his hips when his hand reaches the tip of his dick; he really doesn’t know how he’s going to last.

“No…you don’t get it…” His breath is fucked and, his dick is so hard he wants to cry, it takes everything in him not to beg, “I think about you all the time…I’ve been thinking about you, ever since I came to your house that first time…”

Lust swirls deep in your panties; you don’t know how much longer you’re going to be able to do this either, his dick looks so good, hard, swollen and aching to be fucked. But you haven’t finished ruining him yet, you want him completely desperate before you give in.

“When I pulled your hair the first time?” You smirk, your hands travelling up his body once again as he nods, licking over his lips.

“Ye…yeah…that’s why I left so quickly, you made me hard…” He gasps again as your hand makes it back up to his neck, “…I…are you gonna choke me again?” His eyes look wary, almost frightened, the motions on his dick slowing again, “I don’t….jagi, I don’t know what to do…I don’t want to disappoint you but, if you…if you choke me again, I don’t…”

You smirk, tightening your hand around his neck before he can finish his sentence, “You’re gonna what baby?

“Oh fuck-“ He squeaks, his eyes starting to water when he squeezes over his tip, trying to halt his release, “Jagiya…I can’t…I can’t hold it, you have to stop…”

“Hold it, or I’ll tie you to this chair and leave you like this…” You hiss into his mouth, and his brow furrows in desperation but, his balls tighten further at your threat. The hand around his neck doesn’t cease its constriction and, his hand actually begins to move faster on his length.

His starting to learn…

“Good boy…don’t stop…” You kiss at his lips but, not long enough for him to respond to you, his whole body on fire and shivering at the same time.

Yoongi nods in determination, a shaky breath leaving his nose as he follows orders. He tenses however as you stand up, your left hand coming up to comb through his hair, which is matted against his forehead with sweat.

“Please…” He whimpers but, its not for permission to cum, you know exactly what it’s for.

Curling your fingers around the roots of his hair you tug hard enough to push his head back against the desk chair and, before he can even react, you use your other hand to tighten around his throat.

That’s it, that’s what breaks him.

Tears collect at the corner of his eyes as they widen like saucers, his mouth falling back open as he tries to cry out but, he’s too hoarse to do so.

“Y/N please…baby…baby please, pleasefuckme, pleasefuckme, I can’t…I need you...“ He’s completely lost it, he’s rambling, his eyes aren’t even in focus.

He isn’t even really looking at you but, you know you’ve got him, he’s made it there.

In less than ten seconds, he’s out of the desk chair and onto the pull out couch. He trembles beneath you; his hands reach up as if the lack of contact is painful.

Leaning down to him, you press a tender kiss to his lips to which he responds like a starving man.

“Please jagi…please I need you so bad, I’m sorry I need you, I need you…I really fucking need you…” He sounds like his about to cry and you nod, your tenderness returning just as quickly as it left, your panties pushed haphazardly off of your hips

“Hey…hey...I’m coming angel, I’m coming, just breath for me ok? I’m going to make it better…” You coo, pressing him gently into the squeaky mattress of the pull out couch, the cool sheets welcome against his hot skin.

He nods, not fully able to focus as he wraps his hands around your hips. You press another kiss to his lips before your final command is given, “As soon as I sink down onto you, I want you to cum ok? Can you do that for me?”

Yoongi’s bleary gaze finally locks onto your eyes, his body weakened with desire, “I’ll do anything for you…”

You can’t even recognize his voice, it’s so small, so weak and, so in…

You can’t say it.

Not yet.

But you can feel it, its bubbling right underneath the surface.

As soon as you sink down on him, you give him a few good strokes of your drenched heat before his whole body arches off the bed. Yoongi’s face is buried into your neck, his dull nails dig into your hips as he lets out a cry that shatters you.

You can feel how much he’s cumming as shot after shot of his release paints the inside of you. He’s cumming so hard that he starts crying, his silent whimpering enough to send you over the edge with him.

“don’t stop…don’t stop…” He cries into your neck, holding you so tight to him that it restricts your movements.

All you can do is nod as white hot pleasure takes over your senses, your orgasm just as intense given the events of the last hour.

Yoongi completely loses himself, he cums again, his hips glued to yours as he cries for you. Part of him would feel embarrassed but, he’s too fucked out to care. He’s too in…

Not yet.

He can’t say it, but it’s in his throat.

Its in his heart.

God, he’s never felt so good in his life, he never knew it could be this good.

“Y/N…” He croaks when your hips start settling down. His face doesn’t leave your neck but, he starts sucking gently on it, trying to ground himself.

He feels like he’s floating.

“Baby…” Yoongi practically coos, hands glued to your skin, still sniffling as his tears slowly come to a halt.

The smile that graces your face is brilliant and full of adoration. You slowly pull off of him, “I’m right here angel, I got you…”

You want to get him in a more comfortable position so you can hold him but when you try to pull away to do so, he panics, his glossy eyes widening in fear.

“No…no…” He tries to protest but, you kiss his forehead to reassure him

“Shh…I’m not going anywhere, I just want to hold you…come here for me…” You murmur, kissing his forehead again.

He’s suspicious, not thinking clearly but, he trusts you, not moving more than an inch away from your body as you shift the two of you to sit against the back of the couch. Yoongi scrambles to get closer to you, making himself smaller as he lays his upper half into your chest, tucking his face back into your neck.

“I got you baby boy, I got you…” You whisper, hoping the soft blue light in the studio will soothe him further along with gentle kisses pressed to his skin, “You did so good for me angel…”

Silent tears fall down his cheeks as he tucks further into you, “I did good?”

He checks again, feeling so vulnerable and, yet so safe at the same time.

You smile, pressing a kiss to his sweaty forehead, your nails gently combing his hair back, “You did amazing. You were so good for me.”

His small mouth curves in a dreamy smile, still trembling but, feeling slightly more grounded, “You keep calling me angel….you’re the angel…my angel.”

“You can’t steal my nickname…” You giggle, causing his small smile to turn into a gummier smile as he nuzzles your neck.

“So pretty…” Is all he can think of to say but, you know he’s talking about your laugh.

God, you feel like crying right now though, you could have never guessed that you could feel this strongly about another person.

When a comfortable silence falls over you, you take a moment to notice how banged up he really is. His body is decorated with pinks and purples, scratches, bites, a hicky or two; you really did a number on him and, you want to take care of his skin before it gets too uncomfortable.

“Yoongi? Baby, I need to put something on your scratches, I have cooling gel in my bag-“ You begin to say but, his eyes quickly widen again and, the same panicked look returns.

“Don’t…don’t go-“ He urges, holding you tighter.

You know it’s a symptom of him being in subspace, he doesn’t actually think your leaving but, a lack of contact with you makes him nervous.

“I’ll come right back, my bag is on the floor…” You assure him gently, pressing a kiss between his eyes.

His eyes flutter shut at your kiss and, his hands tighten on you one last time before, he kind of gets a grip on himself.

He knows he’s being a little unreasonable but, he’s never felt like this before, he feels intoxicated and so incredibly needy.

“Ok…” He reluctantly agrees

Another kiss is placed to his forehead before you move quickly to retrieve the gel from your purse. As soon as you sit back down with him, he immediately wraps himself around you, hiding away in your neck as you start to apply the gel to his skin. His breathing is beginning to even out as he melts into you, letting you take care of him.

Like you always do…

“How do you feel?” You whisper into his hair as you smooth the substance over his neck, which has reddened slightly.

“I feel high…” He muses, sounding a little bit more like himself.

His response causes you to giggle, “I’m that good huh?”

Yoongi smirks, kissing your neck slowly, “You invented sex…”

Another giggle bubbles over your lips, as you pull the sheet over Yoongi’s body, “Do you feel better then?”

“Mhm…” He hums into your neck, kissing up the length of it before finding your lips. A soft kiss is placed there before he speaks again, “I wish I could articulate better but, you fucked me stupid jagi…”

Smiling into the kiss, you comb a hand through his hair, scratching gently at the scalp, “Don’t worry about it, take your time, I’m right here if you need me…”

The two of you stay like this for quite some time, holding each other, as you slowly settle back down. Yoongi stays quiet for the most part, doing his best to center his thinking which proves to be quite easy as the only thing he can really think about is you.

A half an hour passes before he finally speaks up, feeling the need to explain something to you.

“I used to live here…” He murmurs, face still tucked into your chest

Your brow furrows at his statement, “Here? At the studio?”

He shakes his head, “It wasn’t always a studio, ten years ago it was a halfway house for troubled youth…”

The beating of your heart stalls but, as you open your mouth to respond, Yoongi continues, his voice stabilizing finally, “My parents are not supportive of what I do. When I was a teenager, we used to fight all the time about it. They tried to force me to stop but, I never listened. I snuck out to do music all the time and, started failing out of school. One night, my father came in and freaked out on me, he destroyed my lyric pages and, threw everything away. The next day, I came home from school and, they had kicked me out. My older brother tried to stop them but, they wouldn’t listen...”

Your chest feels tight as you try your hardest not to let your emotions overflow; you never knew how much Yoongi has endured.

“Sejin, the guy at the front desk, he’s a friend of my older brother,” He rasps, placing another kiss to your skin as a means to soothe himself, “he took me in with nothing but my old laptop and, the clothes on my back. My parents wouldn’t let me take anything. I finished school in the city and, ended up landing a scholarship at our university, that’s where I met Hobi and, reconnected with Namjoon. Once he found out what happened to me, he insisted I move in with him while I got my degree. The rest you already know…”

You hold him tighter, kissing his forehead for the 100th time, “I’m so sorry Yoongi, I didn’t know you went through all of that. You’re so strong for pushing towards your dreams despite everything being so hard for you…”

He smiles gently and the wise look has settled back into his eyes as he looks up at you, “You see why I get a little nervous sometimes now…I’m so worried that my parents are going to be right.”

Nodding, you thumb over his cheek, “I do but, please know that you’ve already proved your parents wrong. After everything you’ve endured, you still keep pushing and, as long as you keep dreaming, you’ll never fail…”

A sudden kiss is pressed to your lips then, which Yoongi turns slow and sweet.

Just like him…

“On my worst days, I tell myself that all of this will be worth it someday…” He whispers against your lips, continuing to kiss at them

“It will be, everything will pay off...”

“It’s already started to…ever since my classroom switched…” He smiles, brushing a piece of hair from your face.

Intense emotion blooms fully in your heart when he responds and, you have to shake your head to keep yourself from crying, “Does that mean you’ll be my date tomorrow then?”

He chuckles, his eyes brightening up significantly as he leans into your lips,

“Tomorrow and, any other time you’ll have me.”

if you let me, here’s what i’ll do: i’ll take care of you

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purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1102

survey by joybucket

What color are your eyes? They are dark brown. They’re actually really more of black because of how dark they are, but that sounds creepy so let’s just go with really really dark brown.

What's your favorite type of milk? I don’t take a lot of milk and am not familiar with most of them.

What's your passion? What a deep, introspective question three questions into this survey lmao. My interests are always changing so I don’t really give much thought into this. I don’t let myself be bound to just one thing.

What's your favorite color? I really like the way baby pink looks on everything.

Are you shy? Sure, but I’m trying to break out of that shell. Based from hundreds of past experiences, being shy is the easiest way to be forgettable and I’m tired of people never remembering my name or anything about me.

What is/was your favorite school subject? History. Anything about it I will surely enjoy.

Do you celebrate Christmas? Yes.

What's your favorite quote? I don’t keep track of quotes.

What is your natural hair color? It’s black.

Do you like it? There’s nothing to complain about. I’d love to have it dyed just to try out something new with my look, because it’s been black and untouched for 23 years; I guess it’s just a matter of when I’ll push through with it.

Are you happy with the way you look? I wish some aspects were different, like my hair to be less frizzy, my front teeth to be straight, my eyesight to be clearer, etc. But it’s also whatever; I don’t really focus on these things too much as I’ve never been the type of person to concentrate on my physical looks.

What would you change about your appearance if you could? ^ Well, those things I listed. Also, to have boobs?? Puberty never did anything for me in that department.

What would you change about your bedroom if you could? I’d move the bed up against the wall because that’s always been more my vibe. If I had the energy, I’d buy a storage container and place all Gab-related stuff in there so I can finally hide away those things (but not entirely throw them out). I would also fix my closet, all three sections of it. I’d also love to get a homey and soothing night lamp and be able to regularly buy scented candles to de-stress at the end of the day. In other news, my room has remained stale for so long and needs a revamp HAHAHA.

Are you rich or poor? I’d say we are in the middle, but our financial situation throughout Covid has been making me increasingly worry.

Are you double jointed? Nope.

What's the most physically painful thing you've ever experienced? The time I ripped my ear piercing, and my foot infection from snorkeling. Also getting my blood drawn, but that’s only because I’m a big baby when it comes to sharp things.

Do you like shots? See above.

Are you afraid of spiders? Our spiders are never too large or look menacing where I live, so not really. I’m aware of how big they can get in other places though so I totally understand the widespread hatred for spiders lol.

Have you ever had an allergic reaction to something? Not sure if it’s an allergy, but my legs quickly get irritated if they’re exposed in a grassy area for too long. My face also doesn’t seem to appreciate face masks, (the skincare kind), but I’m not sure if that’s an allergic reaction or if face masks are meant to do that.

Name a food that you like that's green. Green curry, or broccoli.

Do you like to read? Yes. More of non-fiction, though. I haven’t read a fiction book since I wasssss probably in middle school or early high school.

Do you know what your purpose in life is? No. I don’t stress out over stuff like this lol, I just make sure I’m happy where I am and at the same time, still feel fulfilled with the things I’m doing.

Are you lonely? I can be, but I guess it’s just meant to happen sometimes.

What's something you are good at? Reading people. Sometimes to my benefit, sometimes otherwise.

What's a color that looks great on you? Olive green and maroon are my favorite shades.

What's something you would like to improve at? Being creative. My work requires a lot of it and I end up being a shitty teammate whenever we have to do brainstorming, because I literally just stay to the side, unable to think of anything.

Do you believe you have great potential? Yes.

What's one word to describe you? Right now? Tired.

Are you spiritual? Nope.

What's one thing that you get a lot of compliments on? My writing.

What's one hidden talent that you have? I dunno if it counts as a talent but I memorize a great deal of songs from Jay-Z and Kanye’s Watch the Throne album, which has always been a fun ‘talent’ to whip out and surprise friends with when we’re partying at a club/bar and a song from the album is suddenly played.

What are three girls' names that you really like? I love Olivia, Mia, and Harper. I’ve probably listed those names a thousand times on these surveys by now.

What are three boys' names that you really like? I like Liam, Mason, and Lucas.

What is the most beautiful scenery you have ever beheld? The prettiest place I’ve been to was probably Palawan.

What is your favorite pizza topping? Just cheese is fine with me. If that doesn’t count, bell peppers come second. I can definitely live without the other usual toppings like pepperoni, beef, etc.

Name a food that you like that's red. I said green curry in the green foods question, and I’ll answer red curry here, haha.

Are you color blind? Nope.

Have you ever had a crush? Yes.

Can you type fast? I can and I do on a daily basis.

What's your favorite type of cereal? Erm, I’ve never tried them before but I’m drawn to cereals that are rather sweet lol, like Reese’s Puffs or Hershey’s Kisses cereal line. The thing is, they’re classified as one of the luxury imported brands over here so their prices are very unreasonable for a box of cereal, and I never get to have them as a result. Otherwise I don’t enjoy cereal too much.

What is one of your dreams? I would love to have a family.

What are your top three favorite colors? Baby pink, white, and mustard yellow.

What is your favorite book? I don’t have one.

What is your favorite amusement park ride? Ones that would provide enough thrill but won’t make me pass out, like the octopus.

What are three middle names you wouldn't mind having? Idk, I’m fine with my second name. I actually really like the name Isabelle and at one point I unsuccessfully tried to make it my main name, back when I still hated Robyn.

Are you flexible? Not really anymore. I used to be, kind of.

Do you consider yourself religious? Not at all. I haven’t been in around five years. I’ve been atheist since I was in the 4th grade, then I had this very sudden (but very brief) change of heart back in senior year when I started praying a lot. I went back to atheism as soon as I started university.

Are you bold? I can be, but it’s not one of my principal traits.

Are you spontaneous? It’s nice to be every once in a while, but I’m not always.

Do you have a significant other? No.

What's your pet peeve? Lateness.

How tall are you? Just a little over 5 feet, which does not classify me as tall at all.

What's your sexual orientation? Demi. I’ve also been increasingly self-identifying as asexual, so let’s go with that too.

Can you sing? Nope.

Can you dance? Nope, but I still do it when I’m alone.

Can you draw? No.

Do you play an instrument? I mean, just the recorder, but I don’t know if that counts.

What school subject do you hate the most? Chemistry. I struggled with it both in high school and in college. I hated physics and geometry too, but at least I got better at them as I got older. Chemistry is just far too complicated for me to appreciate.

What's your least favorite color? Most shades of yellow and neon green.

Do you eat healthy? I wouldn’t say I exclusively eat healthily, but I do keep a good balance in the food I consume. I enjoy my junk food as much as I like eating vegetables.

Do you think you look better with short or long hair? I’d say short.

What's a color that doesn't look good on you? White.

Are you passionate? Sure.

Are you doing the most you can with your life? Right now, with the world falling apart around me? I definitely try to. I have a great job, I spoil myself and try out new things for myself every now and then, I’ve pulled myself out from the rut I used to be in a few months ago, etc. I guess I can say I like where I am.

Are you proud of yourself for the way you are living? See above.

Do you love yourself? I've started taking a couple of steps down that path.

Do you have regrets? Sure.

Do you have wishes and dreams? Of course.

Do you have a huge secret you are keeping from the world? I suppose so.

Do you have neat handwriting? Yeah, I get quite a lot of compliments on my penmanship in general. I liked practicing my writing as soon as I learned how to properly hold a pencil, so I guess all those times served as good training.

Name a current favorite song. I dunno but Hayley is set to release a new album by tomorrow so a couple of songs from there will most definitely end up being a favorite.

List a song lyric that you like. “Can you live with what you know about yourself when you're all alone, behind closed doors?”

Are you happy? I think so. I’m definitely not as sad as I used to be.

Are you a generally optimistic person? I try to be, but I allow myself to be negative or realistic sometimes.

Have you ever had something horrible happen to you? Between deaths in the family, depression and other mental health issues, and personal life events that were less than nice, absolutely.

Have you ever been abused? Sure.

Have you ever been harassed and/or bullied? I was bullied as a kid because of my name, and as a result it was difficult to make friends for years. I’ve never been harassed though.

Do you love nature? Yes, I love being around nature when I get the chance.

Are you free-spirited? I wouldn’t consider myself that. I like being on the careful side when it comes to many things.

Are you carefree? Not really.

Would you say you are an overcomer? Yup.

Are you a good friend? I hope I am.

Do you like animals? Love them, except insects.

Do you meditate? No. I actually tried yoga for the first time yesterday because that’s what my workout app had planned for me, but I quickly learned that I am way too impatient for it, lmao. The whole session was meant to be I think 30 minutes? but I quit by like the 14-minute mark and did another program. Idk, I guess it’s just not for me.

Do you pray? No.

What month were you born in? April.

What's your favorite season? We don’t have the usual four seasons but I’m gonna go ahead and say winter because it’s what appeals to me most.

What's one place you've been to that you want to visit again? I want to keep coming back to Sagada.

What's one place you want to go that you've never visited before? Thailand.

What's your favorite type of tree? I don’t have one.

Are you laid-back? I tend to be uptight most of the time, actually.

Are you hard on yourself? Yes.

How's your self-esteem? It’s been getting better, but sometimes I still can’t help but feel insecure.

What medical conditions do you/have you had? Scoliosis.

What are you allergic to? I have had itchy, irritable reactions to face masks and grass before, but not sure if they’re allergies.

Do you like to try new things? For sure, as long as it’s not a crime or if it involves my fears lmfao. Like I would be willing to skydive or dye my hair a strange color, but I’d never scheme a burglary or jump in a tub of cockroaches.

What's one word to describe your style? Chic.

What's one word to describe your bedroom? Plain. I definitely need to mix it up so that it can feel more like who I am.

What's one thing you like about yourself? I like that I’ve always been able to surpass difficulties and come out a better person from them, instead of letting them consume me.

What's one thing you dislike about yourself? I need to stop blaming myself for things out of my control.

Are you competitive? To a fault.

Are you faithful? Sure.

Can you cook? Hell no.

What's your favorite restaurant? Ramen Nagi.

#survey #surveys #kinda basic-ish but not really which works out v well for me

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