#never commented. but the cafeteria food was SO bad

[fingertipsmp3]

I wish all food service workers who are weird about regulars always ordering the same specific thing and tease them for it a very “please don’t do that”

[helen-with-an-a]

Can you do a Barca one where R is suffering with ED, but as one of the newest players, alexia and Jona are rough with her for a bit before she passes out on the field. Her bestfriend, and only friend at Barca, Ingrid, comes to her and feels how light she’s became and that’s when they find out about it?

Hiiiiii - thank you so much for the request and sorry it took so long to get through. Thank you to all the people who reached out offering advice about how to write this - I deeply appreciate it and I hope this helps someone out there. I know that it's scary and daunting but please, please talk to someone. Reaching out for help is the hardest thing, I am well aware of it, but I promise you it will get better. People love you. People want you in there lives. You are worth it and deserve every ounce of love in the world. I hope that my little corner of the internet can help you in some way. Lot of love to every single one of you. Forehead smooches for you all. I hope you enjoy this.

Different From Last Time

Barça Femeni x Reader

Description: R's eating disorder comes back when she moves to Barcelona

TW: Eating Disorder; Disordered Eating habits

Word Count: 3.1k

You hadn��t meant it. Not this time. It wasn’t like last time. Last time, there had been a snippy comment by a jealous girl. Last time, there had been a throw-away quip from a boy that you thought you had a crush on that you hadn’t thrown away. Last time, there had been a slow descent into your Bad Place. Last time, people around you had noticed. Last time, there were hospital visits and psychiatrists. Last time was not like this time. This time, there was no catalyst, no remark that sent you spiralling. This time, it happened without thinking about it. This time the Bad Place had appeared around you without you realising. This time was very different.

It had started when you moved to Barcelona. Your usual breakfast of porridge had made you feel ill one morning. The heaviness of the dense meal sat in your stomach for far longer than was comfortable and paired with the heat … it was not a fun time for you. The next day you had felt the same … and the next, and the next. So, you decided to cut the oats out, and pick at some of the fresh fruit sitting in the fridge instead. It never crossed your mind to replace the oats with something lighter but still filling, like a yoghurt or something. This was fine on your off-days, But by the time lunch arrived, you were starving – so you ate a lot. You plate was piled high of pasta and chicken and vegetables. All healthy, all nutritious. But because you’d ate so much at lunch, you weren’t hungry at dinner. So, you ended up skipping dinner, or picking at some more fruit.

Slowly, without you even realising it, all you were eating at home was fruit. Fruit and a milky coffee or black tea. Your breakfast was a delicious nectarine or a juicy vibrant orange and a mug of freshly brewed coffee with frothy, milky latte art on top or a warm, inviting cup of tea. You knew it might not have been the most nourishing of ways to start your day, but the thought of anything heavier had your stomach churning. The weather was warm, and you truly honestly weren’t hungry. Until you smelled the food in the lunchroom. Every day, you were the first one in and the last one out of the cafeteria. Pasta, rice, potatoes, chicken, beef, pork, carrots, mushrooms, broccoli, peppers. You name it, you probably ate it. It never really clicked in your mind that this could have been a sign. You never felt guilty after eating it, so you didn’t have a problem … right?

But then the off days rolled around. Without the structure of the training schedule, instructing you when and where to eat, you found yourself lost in the quiet of your little flat on the edge of town.  The fridge hummed softly, filled with vibrant colours of fruits you’d stocked up on. Baskets of peaches, plums, and pears lined your kitchen counter. They were beautiful to look at, reminding you of a still-life painting. That’s essentially all they were. A piece of decoration for you to look at.

It was an off day that you finally noticed the changes. You’d stepped out of the shower, steam still clinging to the small bathroom, and caught a glimpse of yourself. The skin stretched tight over your collarbones; your arms looked thinner, almost fragile.  The muscle you had worked so hard to gain was less noticeable. It was subtle, not something that would scream at anyone else, but you knew your body, and this wasn’t right. You brushed it off at first, telling yourself it was just the result of a new lifestyle. The Mediterranean diet, wasn’t that supposed to be healthier? People here were slim, fit, effortlessly beautiful. You were just blending in, adapting, right?

You refused to acknowledge it. You had been through this before. This was nothing like that. The words that lingered in your mind weren’t there this time. You didn’t fear things the way you did last time. You were fine. It wasn’t like last time.

You started to feel tired all the time. Not just sleepy, but exhausted, like your bones were weighed down with sand. It wasn’t the kind of tired that a good night’s sleep could fix. It was deeper, more persistent, as if it had seeped into your very being. You tried to ignore it, pushing through your days with a smile that felt more like a mask.

The coaches had started to pick up on your sluggishness. You were known for your speed – your nimble movements as you dodged round defenders like a dancer weaving through a crowded ballroom, your movements calm and calculated with perfect precision. But now, now your steps felt heavy – your timing off as you, once again, gave the ball away. It was preseason – surely you shouldn’t be this tired?

“Y/N, is everything ok?” Pere asked softly as he pulled you off to the side. You swallowed. Was everything ok?

“Yeh,” you sighed. “Sorry, I’m just tired. Still trying to get used to the heat,” you gestured around you. It was sweltering that’s for such. The temperature at the ground reaching an uncomfortable mid-thirties by mid-morning.

You knew you needed to step it up. You needed to be better. If not for you, then the team. The team needed you at your best. And you had to be the best. Maybe it was the Bad Thoughts talking, but you decided that being the best meant just training harder, not taking that step to talk to someone, to seek professional help. This wasn’t like last time. You could manage it.

And so, you pushed harder. You told yourself that this was the answer; that all you needed was to work through the fatigue, to out-train the tiredness that clung to you like a second skin. Early morning runs before the sun had fully risen, extra drills after everyone else had left the field, more laps, more weights, more sweat. You kept telling yourself that the ache in your muscles was proof that you were getting stronger, that the exhaustion in your bones was a sign that you were working toward something better.

You hadn’t really noticed it, but you were so focussed on training that you had stopped interacting with people. You were so tired all the time, your response became short and snippy. You were getting more and more irritable as the days went by. The little things that never used to bother you—the noise in the locker room, a teammate’s joke, even the way someone chewed their food—started to grate on your nerves. You could feel the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface, ready to spill over at any moment. But instead of addressing it, instead of acknowledging that something was wrong, you buried it under layers of denial and discipline. You told yourself it was just the stress, that everyone got like this sometimes. It was just part of being an athlete, right?

It was Alexia who first approached you, a few weeks after her return from the Olympics. She had been well aware of who you were before you signed for Barcelona – she had been on the receiving end of a few of your nutmegs and perfectly executed presses. This was not the Y/N she had played against.

She had found you outside, setting up for free kick practice. She found it strange – that you would choose to practice those of all things. You weren’t on the list to take set pieces, your name so far down the list the pigs would sooner fly then you participating in that part of football games.

“Hola,” Alexia said, coming to stand next to you. You jumped, your body tensing at the intruder. “Lo siento,” she smiled at you.

“Alexia, um, hi?” You sounded genuinely shocked she was near you, voluntarily talking to you.

The Catalan captain scared you a little. It was something about her composure, her intensity that made you nervous to even breathe the same air as her, let alone talk to her.

“What are you doing?” She asked, honestly curious at your choice of activity.

“Practising,” you dismissed, looking across at the set up.

“Why?”

“Because I need to …” you trailed off, making it sound more like a question than anything else.

“We haven’t even had a game yet, I think you’re fine,” she consoled.

“No, I need to push myself. I need to be better. I want to do this for the team.” With those words, Alexia made up her mind. Something she would later regret massively, but something that, in the moment, seemed like a very smart idea.

Alexia observed you the following afternoon. You were right, you were moving more slowly than usual. You were slower, you were less agile, you were making mistakes that you never used to make. Alexia thought she was helping.

“No, de nuevo.” Alexia barked. You flinched at the tone, the harshness of Alexia's voice cutting through the afternoon air like a whip. It wasn’t just you who noticed – everyone on the pitch turned their heads, eyes widening in surprise. Alexia was known for her leadership, for guiding the team with a firm but fair hand. But this? This was different. It was almost like she was pushing you, testing your limits in a way that felt more personal than professional.

You forced yourself to focus, your heart pounding in your chest. Sweat dripped down your forehead, stinging your eyes as you tried to reset, to shake off the growing sense of unease that had taken root inside you. You couldn’t afford to mess this up, not in front of her, not in front of the team.

Again and again, you repeated the drill, your legs growing heavier with each attempt. You could feel your breath hitching, your lungs burning, but you pushed through, ignoring the screaming protests of your body. This was what you needed, right? To push harder, to be better. But with each failed attempt, each barked command from Alexia, doubt crept further into your mind.

Your teammates watched with a mix of concern and confusion. They could see something was off, that you were struggling more than usual, but no one dared to say anything. Alexia’s presence was too commanding, too intimidating to question. So they stayed silent, exchanging worried glances as you faltered once again.

“No, no, no,” Alexia snapped, stepping closer, her frustration palpable. “That’s not good enough. Again.”

You nodded, barely hearing her words over the pounding in your ears. The world was starting to tilt, the edges of your vision blurring as you bent over, hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath. But there was no time for that. You had to keep going. You had to prove yourself.

“Y/N,” Alexia’s voice cut through your haze, sharp and unyielding. “Again.”

You straightened up, legs trembling, and moved to take your position. But the ground seemed to shift beneath your feet, and suddenly, you were stumbling, your vision narrowing to a pinpoint. Panic flared in your chest as the world spun, and before you could stop it, darkness began to close in around you.

Was it the heat? Was it the food? You really couldn’t tell. You felt horrific. But you had to keep going. You swayed gently as you began to sprint off. You needed out … you needed to breathe. Your body was on autopilot as you went through the motions.

Esmee was the first to notice. Your skin had a sallow, sickly paleness. Your eyes were sunken and your hair too thin. You looked awful. Her concern quickly turned to alarm as she watched you sway; your movements unsteady and uncoordinated. She could see the strain etched across your face, the way your muscles trembled with every step. Something was terribly wrong, and it was no longer just about your performance on the pitch.

She reached over to Ingrid, tapping her gently on the shoulder. The pair of them looked over to where you and Alexia were standing – you were barely conscious. How you were still on your feet was anyone’s guess. They exchanged glances, silently agreeing that something was terribly, terribly amiss and Alexia was taking things too far.

“Y/N, stop!” Mapí shouted, her voice breaking through the fog that had settled in your mind. But you barely registered it, your body still moving on instinct, trying to obey Alexia’s last command. The group didn’t hesitate. They were over to you in a flash. They sprinted across the field, reaching you just as your legs buckled underneath you. Ingrid’s gentle arms wrapped around you.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” she said, her voice soft but urgent as she guided you to sit down on the grass. “You need to stop, Y/N. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Alexia’s frustration melted into concern as she watched the scene unfold. She hadn’t realised just how bad things had gotten until now. She had been so focused on pushing you to be your best that she hadn’t seen the toll it was taking on you, both physically and mentally. Guilt gnawed at her as she hurried over, her expression shifting from stern to worried.

“Y/N, why didn’t you say something?” Alexia asked, kneeling beside you, her voice uncharacteristically gentle.

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. Your vision was blurry, and the world felt like it was spinning out of control. You felt Ingrid’s hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles, but even that small comfort wasn’t enough to calm the panic rising in your chest.

“I… I thought I could handle it,” you finally managed to whisper, tears welling up in your eyes. “It isn’t like last time.”

“What’s not like last time?” Esmee’s gentle voice drifted over you.

“All of it. The Bad Thoughts aren’t like last time. I didn’t mean to do it. I …” If you had the energy, you would have been hysterical.

“Y/N, I need you to listen to me,” Alexia’s tone posed no arguments. This was Captain Alexia talking. She brought a hand to your cheek, her palm gently guiding you to look at her. “Have you hurt yourself? Do you need an ambulance?”

“Not cuts. I … I don’t do that,” you whispered.

The sigh of relief was audible from all the girls around you.

“What didn’t you mean to do, Kjære?” Ingrid asked the question. She figured that since you were still in her arms, your back against her chest, that it might be easier voicing whatever it was that plagued your mind.

“I …” You remembered how hard it was to voice it all last time. At that had been to a total stranger. But then again … that had been to a total stranger. A stranger that had your best interests at heart, but they didn’t know you. Not like these girls did. “Food,” was what you settled on.

The moment the word left your lips, you felt the air around you shift. The weight of the confession hung heavily in the silence that followed, pressing down on everyone around you. The tension was palpable, each of your teammates processing what you had just said, the reality of the situation settling in.

Mapí's sharp intake of breath was the first sound that broke the silence, her shock evident. You could feel Ingrid's arms tighten around you slightly, as if she was trying to shield you from the world, from the consequences of your admission. Alexia’s hand remained on your cheek, her eyes searching yours for any sign of what you were truly going through.

"Food?" Ingrid repeated softly, her voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it any louder would make the situation even more real. "What do you mean, Y/N? Have you not been eating?"

You hesitated, your mind racing with the implications of what you were about to reveal. But there was no turning back now. The truth had already started to spill out, and you couldn't stop it even if you wanted to. "Not… not like I should," you finally admitted, your voice trembling. "It just… happened. I didn’t mean for it to, but I’ve been skipping meals, and when I do eat, it’s like I can’t stop. At home I can't eat. But in the cafeteria, it's all I can do …"

The guilt in Alexia’s eyes deepened, her mind replaying every drill, every push, every time she had demanded more from you without realizing the burden you were already carrying. "Y/N," she began, her voice laced with regret, "I had no idea. I should have seen the signs. I’m so sorry."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time, they weren’t just from exhaustion or fear. They were from the overwhelming mix of emotions you felt—from relief that the truth was finally out, to shame for not being able to handle it on your own, to fear of what would come next.

Esmee knelt beside you, her hand reaching out to squeeze yours. "We’re going to help you," she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for doubt. "You don’t have to go through this alone, Y/N. We’re your team, and that means we’re here for you, no matter what."

The others nodded in agreement, their faces reflecting a mixture of concern and determination. You could see the resolve in their eyes, the silent promise that they wouldn’t let you face this battle alone.

Alexia took a deep breath, her hand still resting gently on your cheek. "The most important thing right now is your health," she said, her voice steady. "We’ll figure this out together. We’ll talk to the coach, to the doctors, and we’ll make sure you get the support you need."

You nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. The support of your teammates was more than you could have hoped for, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe this time really was different. Maybe this time, you wouldn’t have to face the darkness alone.

Ingrid gently helped you to your feet, her arm still around your waist to steady you. The others formed a protective circle around you, their presence a silent but powerful reminder that you were part of something bigger, something stronger than any one of you alone.

As they guided you off the field, you knew that this was just the beginning of a long and difficult journey. But you also knew that with them by your side, you could face whatever came next. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were going to be okay.

I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3

[nataliasquote]

Tattoos for troubled minds | n romanoff

Summary: Natasha struggles to trust anyone when it comes to touching her body. But that becomes rather difficult when a tattoo idea comes into her mind that she just can’t shake

Warnings: mentions of scars, tattoo needles, slight internalised homophobia

wc: 3.6k

note: I don’t actually have tattoos (despite wanting one so badly) so this is probably really inaccurate. I do apologise if this doesn’t make sense. also, I hate this so much but the guilt of not posting is eating me alive so I’m sorry

-⧗-

Natasha was a quiet soul. She kept to herself, usually sitting at her own table in the Shield cafeteria, eyes focused on her plate of food as she ate quickly, just wanting to get out of there. None of the other agents dared make conversation with her, too spooked by her fighting skills to approach. But that didn’t bother her. Her hyper independence made her hesitant to trust people.

Clint was the only one she spoke to outside of working hours. They weren’t exactly friends, but she tolerated him enough to flash a small smile if she saw him in the hallways or feel slightly relaxed if they were paired for missions together.

And he liked her too, especially since her first words had been a jab at his choice of weapon.

“Bow and arrow? What did you do, get your training in a forest?”

But he didn’t take offense to it. After all, he’d made the call to save her and she owed him her life. Which is how, two years later, she was sprawled on his couch, chewing on take out pizza for the second time that week with a scowl.

“I think I want a tattoo.”

Clint frowned at her, wondering where her brain cells had disappeared to. “What?”

“You know, the permanent drawing-“

“Yes I know what a tattoo is Tasha,” he rolled his eyes at her teasing smirk, already over her sarcasm. “But you know it’s a bad idea for spies to have unique markings like that.”

Natasha shrugged, tugging up her sleeve to reveal a strange shaped scar across her bicep. “I’d say I’ve got enough of those naturally. And it would be hidden on my ribs or something.”

Clint just shook his head and turned back to his food. He was used to Natasha’s odd comments and her tattoo phase probably wouldn’t last in his eyes. Just like her ‘wanting to be blonde’ phase didn’t.

But it didn’t end. A month later and Natasha had fallen down the rabbit hole that was tattoo designs on pinterest, courtesy of a fellow agent who introduced her to the app. She didn’t understand it at first, but now it was 3am and her tablet screen was still glaring bright in her face, a plethora of images scattered across her screen.

She saved a couple to a board, now set on design and placement, before placing it to one side with a grin on her face. Natasha climbed out of bed and padded over to her mirror, pulling up her shirt and smiling softly to herself. But the dim lamplight made her scars glisten and she caught herself, a sudden feeling of repulsion shuddering through her body. She looked like a freak and no tattoo artist would want to go near that. Her scars weren’t normal and she wasn’t ready for the questions yet.

Tears glazed her eyes over and her arms snaked across her stomach, her reflection in the mirror now blurry. Even as the salty tears dripped down her cheeks and soaked the collar of her shirt, she didn’t step away, too engrossed with how disgusting she felt in her body.

That stubborn hope that the redroom failed to squash out had ignited inside her once more, except this time she just wanted to laugh at it. Natasha would never be normal. She was what they’d made her into, and a tattoo was never going to change that.

Clint noticed the change in her demeanor when she sat down at breakfast. Natasha barely engaged in her usual small talk, more focused on her food in front of her.

“Did you do anymore tattoo research yesterday?” He asked, knowing that would catch her attention. But instead of the usual spark, she remained dejected, stirring her yogurt half heartedly.

“Yeah,” came her response, albeit rather forced.

“There’s probably a lot of places in DC that would kill to tattoo a shield agent.” Nat shot him a look. “Just saying!”

“Sure. But I don’t think I can anymore.”

Clint looked at her with a frown. “Why not?”

Natasha just looked down and tugged at her sleeve, suddenly feeling exposed in her tight fitting suit. The image in the mirror from last night came into her mind and she pushed her food away, no longer hoodie. And beside that, she didn’t trust people she worked with, so how would she trust a complete stranger to add something permanent on her body? Getting a tattoo would be nothing but a dream for her, she knew that, but it still crushed her.

Clint studied his best friend for a moment in thought, before he placed his hand gently on her arm. “I might know someone who can help.” Natasha looked up, now interested. Her face was still stony but Clint knew she was excited. “A friend of Laura’s, we helped her out even before you came here.”

“An agent?” Clint hadn’t mentioned anyone like that before and it confused Natasha.

But Clint shook his head. “No, nothing like that. She came to Laura and I when she was a teenager and had nowhere else to go. And you know my wife-“

“Can’t let anyone suffer,” Natasha finished for him, warmth spreading in her stomach at the thought of the soft woman she’d grown to adore. Laura really did have the biggest heart out of everyone.

“Exactly that. Y/n was fourteen, I think, parents kicked her out of the house. How she got to ours, I’ll never know, but she just appeared on the doorstep one night and Laura melted at the sight of her.” Clint’s expression softened at the memory. “But anyway, what I’m saying is that she’s a tattoo artist. She’s got trust issues just like you and I think she’ll help.”

Natasha scowled at the last part, wanting to protest his comment. But she knew he was right; her trust issues were what got her into this mess in the first place.

“But she’s a kid?”

“No, almost the same age as you,” Clint said with a laugh. “You’ll like her, but she can be a little scary.”

“Scarier than me?”

Clint smirked. “Oh, you’d be surprised. That glare of hers rivals yours.” This vague description intrigued Natasha and Clint could see the cogs turning in her mind. “She knows what we do and she’s seen my scars. Trust me, they won’t put her off.”

Natasha’s head shot up, staring at her best friend with confusion. Was she that easy to read? Or did he just know her too well?

~~~

With the news of her favourite girls coming back home, Laura had been in a frenzy of cleaning and preparing. Clint had texted to say he was only minutes away so she left the dishes to soak and headed to the porch, anxiously staring at the track beside their house as she waited.

Anyone would have thought she was married to Natasha over Clint by the difference in reactions she gave them. Sure, Clint got a kiss and a hug, but Natasha truly got the special treatment, with Laura scanning her to make sure she wasn’t injured and quizzing her about how she was. Poor Clint was left to grab their bags as the women disappeared into the farmhouse.

Tea was poured and snacks were eaten in the cosy kitchen before the doorbell rang and Laura excused herself, leaving an anxious Natasha on her own for a moment. Muffled voices could be heard but she tried to go against her instincts of listening in and instead busied herself with a loose thread on the tablecloth. She heard footsteps approaching and turned in her chair, ignoring the way her heart thumped loudly in her chest.

The woman who walked in the kitchen doorway was stunning, Natasha couldn’t deny it, and her eyes darted to the patchwork of tattoos that littered her exposed arms. Their eyes met, and Natasha swore she could see the walls up in the other woman’s mind. But it didn’t scare her off. No. It brought her a weird sense of comfort and her body started to relax.

Clad in a black cropped tank and black cargo pants, Y/n hesitated in the doorway, duffle bag slung over her shoulder hitting the wall gently. Laura appeared behind her, gentle hands falling to her shoulders.

“Y/n, this is Natasha, the one I told you about.” The y/h/c girl made no effort to move. “She’s Clint’s partner.” Clearly not much of a talker, Y/n just nodded, not hiding the fact she was scanning Natasha from head to toe. She didn’t trust strangers, but she trusted Laura and Clint who seemed to love Natasha. So maybe she wasn’t a threat.

“Hi, you can call me Nat if you want.” No one called her Nat except Laura, but it was a feeble attempt to make the atmosphere more comfortable. Another nod came but Laura smiled.

“Do you want to go set up? All of your stuff is still exactly where you left it,” Laura addressed Y/n who adjusted the grip on her bag and disappeared down the hall without a word. Natasha’s eyebrows raised at Laura who watched her go, a fond look in her eyes. “She does speak, I promise.”

Natasha shook her head, brushing her off. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I can tell you care about her a lot.”

“She’s like a daughter to me, kind of like you are.” Natasha’s cheeks flushed at that. “She doesn’t have anyone except us, so I worry. She’s a real sweetheart though, she’s just been through a lot. Kind of like someone else I know.”

“I’ll be kind, don’t worry.”

Laura couldn’t help but smile as she stirred her tea. “Oh I know. She already likes you, you don’t need to worry about that.”

Natasha let out a sigh and started to play with the hem of her zip up jacket. It suddenly felt real, the whole tattoo thing. And whilst she weirdly trusted Y/n, it didn’t help ease her nerves any less.

The redhead sensed a new presence before she spotted her, standing in the doorway just like she was before.

“Ready when you are, Nat.” Her voice was slightly raspy from lack of use and she spoke quietly, almost as if she was scared she’d get into trouble. Natasha smiled softly at the sound of her nickname and squeezed Laura’s hand before she followed the y/h/c girl down the hallway of the house she considered her second home.

Clint’s office had been turned into a makeshift tattoo studio with all new equipment and furniture decorating the small space. The tattoo bed had a fresh paper layer on top and Y/n gestured for Natasha to take a seat.

“Ok, do you have an idea of what you want? And where?” Y/n sat down at a small table and picked up her pen before looking at Natasha expectantly.

“I’ve got a couple of reference pictures on my phone.” The small device was handed over and Y/n swiped between them, nodding in approval before setting it down. “The last one is just for placement ideas.”

“I’ll work up a sketch and you can tell me what needs changing.” Luckily Natasha’s design was incredibly simple and it didn’t take long for Y/n to hold up her page.

Natasha slid off the bed and slowly walked over, not wanting to startle the skittish girl. But Y/n just moved over, clearly welcoming the redhead into her space.

“I love that a lot,” Natasha praised, studying the simple lines. “But maybe it could be a bit smaller.”

“I can scale it down when I make the stencil, no problem. But is the design alright? Remember, it is permanent so I want you to be completely happy with it.”

Natasha studied it for a moment, a smile tugging at her lips as she imagined it on her body. Y/n had talent, anyone could see that even from such a simple drawing, and Natasha nodded before she slid the notebook back to her.

“I love it, I really do.”

Y/n nodded, grabbing her stencil paper from a drawer by her leg. She wordlessly began making the stencil and Natasha took this as her cue to return to her seat. She peered around the room, admiring a few pictures that were on the walls. Incredibly complicated tattoos which she guessed Y/n had done.

The young girl sketching away in the corner thoroughly interested her and something inside Natasha was drawn in. She wanted to get to know her because aside from the shy and hesitant exterior she was effortlessly cool and seemed sweet. Maybe Y/n could be the start of Natasha’s project to make friends.

“If you lie back on the seat and lift your shirt, we can make sure this is exactly how you want it before I start.”

Natasha took a deep breath and slowly lifted her shirt and lowered the waistband of her sweatpants so her hip bone was exposed. She shivered despite the room being warm, fully aware that her nastiest scar was on full display on her lower stomach.

But Y/n didn’t care. Or at least she didn’t make it obvious if it bothered her. “Is it ok if I touch your hip?” She asked, looking Natasha straight in the eyes. The redhead almost melted at her words, not used to ever being asked that question.

“Of course, do what you need.” Y/n’s fingers were soft and delicate as she placed the stencil on Natasha’s skin. She didn’t touch anywhere she didn’t need to and worked quickly, making sure it was fully stuck down before stepping back to allow Natasha to step over to the mirror.

Although it wasn’t permanent, Natasha’s heart was racing as she saw the way the black ink stood out against her pale skin. The symbol was small but perfect in her eyes, and she turned back to Y/n with a grin.

“It’s perfect!”

“Then I’ll get started.”

Due to the design being so small, it took no more than fifteen minutes for Y/n to complete. Her hand was incredibly steady and Natasha’s pain tolerance was so high she barely felt it. The room was silent aside from the faint buzzing, no conversation stemming from either woman. Questions spiralled around Natasha’s head but she knew this wasn’t the place to ask them.

Completely lost in her head, Natasha failed to notice the silence or the fact that her hip bone was no longer burning. Y/n kept working, wiping away the excess ink and making sure she hadn’t missed a spot. But it was perfect, as usual, and she gently tapped Nat on the thigh to snap her out of her head.

“You’re now free to look.”

Natasha grinned and hopped off the bed, holding up her shirt again as she looked in the mirror. Tears almost sprung to her eyes as she admired the finished product, and they probably would have tumbled down her cheeks if she had been alone.

A small spider sat on the front of her hip, legs slightly bent. It looked so delicate on her skin and for the first time in her entire life, Natasha actually liked looking at herself in the mirror.

“It’s so beautiful,” she began to ramble, unable to tear her eyes away. “You’ve got real talent Y/n, I can’t thank you enough. It’s so perfect.”

Y/n blushed and couldn’t stop the smile that graced her lips, catching Natasha’s eyes in the mirror and making the redhead freeze.

Her smile.

The young woman hadn’t smiled the entire time she’d arrived, but seeing her now was like a breath of fresh air. Smiling looked so good on her and Natash couldn’t get enough.

“If you want to show Laura, you can, but you’ll need to come back so I can wrap it safely.” Natasha glanced at her new addition and nodded, but hesitated once she was by the door.

“I think you should come too. The artist and her artwork.” Natasha spoke with a smirk and Y/n couldn’t ever imagine saying no to that woman. So she nodded again, her usual response, and meekly followed her back down the hall, pulling off her gloves as she walked.

Laura was already waiting for them in the kitchen and she placed her reading glasses in her hair to get a good look at Natasha who still hadn’t dropped her shirt down. She’d never seen the Russian with such a wide grin before, her usual collected expression completely out of the window.

“It looks beautiful, Nat, truly. You did such a good job Y/n.”

“You never told me how talented she is!” Natasha stepped to the side to allow Y/n to come forward, but the humble woman stayed where she was, already hating the attention. She didn’t see her art as talent, more like a form of escapism. But it made people happy and that was all she wanted.

“I wanted you to see for yourself,” Laura replied. “And besides, she never believes me when I tell her how good she is.”

“You’re really easy to tattoo. You don’t squirm or cry like other people do, so really I should be thanking you.” Laura was taken aback by Y/n’s comment, not used to more than three words coming out of the girl’s mouth. But the more she observed her, the more she saw her change. The darkness she’d noticed since Y/n was a teenager had lifted a little and she seemed a lot less guarded, looking over at Natasha with a soft expression.

And Natasha looked back at her just the same, purely in awe of how gentle she was. As Y/n gestured for them to return to the office and offered to hold Nat’s shirt, Laura felt like squealing like a child.

Two of her favourite people in the world had found each other and, despite both being so broken and fragile, fit together so perfectly it was like they were made for each other.

Natasha was strong enough and sure of herself enough for the both of them, and Y/n treated her with such delicacy and care that it slowly broke away Natasha’s trust issues and allowed her to open up. And Natasha’s protective nature came out around the other woman, wanting to keep her safe from the world.

With a quick word about going to show Clint, Natasha disappeared into the front yard with her newly wrapped hip, leaving Y/n to find Laura again. The older woman welcomed her with a hug and pulled a chair close to her own.

“You like her, don’t you?”

Y/n kept her gaze on the crossword Laura was doing, not wanting her eyes to give her away if she looked up. “She’s nice.”

“Hey,” Laura said softly, carefully taking Y/n’s hand in her own. She didn’t miss the way she flinched but unfortunately she was used to that by now. “You’re not back there. You’re allowed to like her if that’s what you want and feel. She’s a good person, but so are you, you don’t need to be scared.”

Y/n’s eyes followed where their hands were clasped up to Laura’s face, trying to find any hints that showed she was lying. But all that came back was the soft and caring face she’d grown to love, one that didn’t lie to her and didn’t hate her for who she was.

“I don’t like her like that.” Call her a hypocrite for lying, but Y/n had her reasons. Loving a woman was still unnatural in her eyes, despite her contrasting feelings that longed for it.

“Y/n…” Laura’s ‘mom’ tone was one she was used to and she knew she was caught out. “I’m not asking you to tell me now, but you deserve happiness, as does she. And I haven’t seen either of you that relaxed in a really long time. So please don’t push her away.”

Y/n didn’t know what to think. How could she? Her whole life had centred around hating who she was, so how could anyone ever like her like that? It messed with her head and Laura could see that.

But what was Natasha if not a life saver. She came strolling into the kitchen, her tshirt now tucked up into the band of her sports bra to allow her tattoo to be on full display. Y/n smiled slightly at the sight.

Sinking down into the chair beside her, Natasha noticed the clasped hands of the women and wondered what she’d interrupted. But that wasn’t her place to ask, so she turned to Y/n.

“How can I pay you? How much do you charge?”

Y/n shook her head frantically, pulling her hand away from Laura. “Nothing, honestly. You’re a friend, it’s no big deal.”

“Absolutely not. If you won’t take money, at least let me repay you another way.”

“Nat-“

“Dinner? How about you let me take you to dinner next week. You’re from the city, right?” Y/n nodded, her brows creasing. She turned to Laura for help but the older woman just smiled widely and nodded, giving her as much non verbal encouragement as she could. “Please, Y/n?”

She’d said yes before she could even process what was going on. After all, they were just friends going to dinner. People in the movies that she’d seen did it, so she could too.

What was so wrong with that?

[slttygeto]

Hello lovely human :) First off, I hope you are well you are having a nice cozy summer and life is treating you well, as you deserve ^^ I have been reading your jjk stuff for a while and saw your requests are open so i got the courage to give it a shot :) Long story short, what i had in mind is reader having feelings for Gojo but also being bad a direct interaction, so she shows her love to him by trying to make his *busy* life easier (which Gojo never experienced from someone) like: giving him food/sweets, making sure he sleeps, asking about his day and secretly taking on missions from him so he has more free time (to live his life, like??? helloo). He notices these things at some point, considering that is almost always he who does stuff for others, and giving the fact that he mayyyy alsoo like reader/oc he decides that maybe he should do something about his growing feelings too :D I thank you from my heart if you choose to write this! Thank you soo much :)

subliminal message | satoru gojo.

note: first of all! thank you so much for the sweet message, this truly made my day/week! and second of all, I have been struggling with writer’s block for a while so I hope you still like this as it somehow/slowly got me out of it. i had fun writing for satoru so thank you so much for this request!

word count: 1,6k

COMMISSIONS

For a guy who prides himself on using infinity, the space on Satoru’s desk suddenly feels limited. The bento boxes piled up on his right tumble over with an accidental brush of his hand. Then his eyes shift to the food crumbs on the carpet. It suddenly sinks in. Satoru has been having proper meals lately. 

But the strongest doesn’t know what to think of it at first. His six eyes point out almost everything, so it is surprising–perhaps even unusual for him to not notice things right away. Even more so when it is six bento boxes in total. 

His coffee splashes as he walks down the corridor and into the teacher’s lounge where his eyes land on your approaching figure. With a pile of documents in your hands, you fail to notice the pair of blue eyes following your every move. 

You were a talented sorcerer, a few years younger than Satoru so you didn’t witness his highschool years or knew of the awful friendship breakup that he had with his old best friend. All you knew was that he was called the strongest for a good reason, and that he welcomed you so warmly that it left you yearning for the man’s attention and friendship since day one. 

“Oh, good morning!” you say cheerfully and Satoru returns your greeting with just as much excitement. You say something about too much paperwork, a comment regarding the students making a mess in the cafeteria and then you were heading towards your office. Satoru looks back, sees your retreating figure disappear into the hallway before proceeding towards Yaga’s office. He still can’t figure out where the bento boxes came from. 

You learn of Satoru’s unhealthy lifestyle shortly after you join–it’s not hard to notice when the man was never there during lunch or dinner. He was the first person in the teacher’s lounge and the last person to leave. Plus, you are certain that the man has never slept in his dorm room. 

A few weeks ago, and after a long tutoring session with Yuuji, you found yourself packing your things and getting ready to head back to your room at 2AM. As you were locking your office, you hear rustling coming from Satoru’s office and see that the lights were still on and the man could be heard mumbling to himself something about his upcoming missions. 

“I stayed up.” He tells you at 8AM, heaving out a sigh that leaves your heart tightening and your eyebrows furrowing in concern. 

That’s bullshit. Because he was allowed to rest just as much as you and Nanami were. Your eye twitches whenever you hear him reaffirm his status as the strongest–that title was starting to irk you. 

The higher ups were full of shit and you were starting to think that the Jujutsu society was taking Gojo Satoru’s selflessness for granted. You were well aware of your lack of influence in a society where power and status mattered the most, so you chose the next best thing to do in order to remove some of the weight off of Satoru’s shoulders. 

Making bento boxes isn’t exactly complicated–however, it is time consuming and you hate doing things while half asleep. The only thing that kept you awake at 5AM while you were placing the carrot and fruit slices was the thought of Satoru going on missions with the same amount of sleep as you. Four hours to be exact. 

You prepare six bento boxes–leave the seventh one empty in case Satoru doesn’t need them and starts going to the cafeteria when he realizes the amount of free time he suddenly has. But that could only happen after you move onto the next part of your plan–which was to talk to Yaga. Your relationship with the principal wasn’t all that complicated. You respected him as your previous teacher, and he admired the fact that you came back to work for the highschool years later–even after you managed to fall into a rather peaceful lifestyle, away from curses and the constant fear of getting killed on a mission. When you approach him with the idea of taking on missions for the strongest–it is only natural for the older man to reject.

“Do you realize how dangerous it is?”

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting here and confidently asking you to let me do it instead of him.”

“What would you get out of it?”

“Is it bad that I care for him?” 

How couldn’t he have noticed that? How did his six eyes miss the residue of your cursed energy on the bento boxes? It is a bit too late to be asking these questions, but Satoru’s brain refuses to shut down. His six eyes, like a leaf being tossed around in the wind, were out of control. He could feel your cursed energy–but he could also feel, even smell the residue of the same curse that had attacked you earlier that day. 

Satoru doesn't know what to say as he watches Shoko bandage you up, your reflective eyes refusing to meet his own blue ones—almost as though you were ashamed that you had failed not only as a sorcerer, but as a friend as well.

SAtoru can't seem to find the right words for this situation—he wasn’t necessarily mad at you, he wasn't disappointed either—perhaps a little surprised that you had gone out of your way to do something like that. and maybe he was wondering what the motive was. what would you get out of helping him? when he didn't even know that it was you? were you just that nice to everyone else?

Were you doing it so casually? And does that make him not that special to you?

He wants to brush off the lump that forms in his throat at the thought of all of this being casual to you, not that important—that you’d do it to someone else, but he can’t. Not when his growing affection towards you was starting to get out of control and he was failing to hide his own favoritism towards you.

He wants to say that it’s only because you react to his jokes with so much passion, so much excitement—that you know he likes kukifuku and make sure that his drinks aren’t too bitter. a part of him, buried deep under a pile of unresolved personal issues and failure to recognize those who actually love him or not, wants to scream every time you pat his shoulder when he almost drifts to sleep, noticing that the strongest had failed to get the right amount of sleep yet another time. that it’s just how you are with everyone else.

That he wasn’t special.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Thankfully, Shoko chooses to step out of the room—mumbles something about this being too awkward with a cigarette between her lips—and you find yourself alone in a room with satoru gojo.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“Whether or not you’d think it’s weird.” 

“I don’t think it’s weird, just a little unusual.” Satoru admits, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his broad chest. He refuses to take off his blindfold but you know that his six eyes were staring deep into your soul.

“You care for me so openly,” he then confesses and it almost breaks your heart. He is now staring at the door, bracing himself forward so that his elbows are on his knees.

“I like you.”

The room goes silent.

You didn’t know if it was the adrenaline, or if it was your heart beating as though you were being chased by 3 bulls at once—you spill out the words and then stare wide-eyed at satoru. lips trembling, fingers shaking, you can’t bring yourself to say anything else but those three words. It was supposed to be a silly crush, I mean—who wouldn’t have a crush on him, right? and it’s not like you were the first person to ever like him but—

You were panicking. Because the silence was stretching longer and longer and longer—or perhaps it was your quickening breath and your heightened senses making you far more sensitive to things simply because you had spilled your growing feelings to the same man who was sitting frozen on his seat.

“y-you don’t have to say anything in return—“ your throat has gone dry and you wipe your tears with the back of your hand. “I just figured telling you would—I don’t know, fuck—“ your cover your hot face in shame, ears burning in embarrassment because you didn’t know what to do. The humiliation of confessing to a crush stays even as an adult, you were discovering.

“Can I talk now?” you feel a hand resting on your knee and you stare at him with teary eyes. you hear his chuckle, this hand other hand travels up to your face where he wipes your tears and strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“You just figured telling me would, what?“

“Make it easier for me to move on.”

“You want to move on from me when we haven’t even dated?” he says with a playful pout, his blindfold no longer hiding his eyes and you see that the tip of his ears was turning a beautiful shade of pink.

But it also sinks in that the strongest was also confessing to you.

Using his own words, he was letting you know that he would gladly welcome you into his arms—into his world. It would no longer be just him, this next journey would involve you and him both—embarking on a new adventure. 

“But no more going on missions for me, okay?”

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[night-raven-tattler]

What's your ideal type?

A/N: This is a series where I write what I think is the ideal type for all the boys of the main cast. Enjoy!

Characters: Heartslabyul dorm (Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Trey, Cater) ×GN!Reader (separate, romantic)

Other parts of the series: Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia

Warnings: food (Trey's first bullet point)

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Riddle's ideal type would be...

Someone who can gain his respect. A way into Riddle's heart is to catch his attention, either through your extensive knowledge about your favorite topic or a very solid sense of self. He likes people who can hold their head high so their crown won't fall off.

Someone who can understand his need to stick to the rules. His journey of self improvement made him understand he can't always force people to stick to all rules. But he still has a long way to go until he can break out of his bad habits, and if you wait for him to catch up, he'll appreciate it.

Someone who allows him to feel his emotions. Always forced to listen and never argue, Riddle has a lot of pent up emotions that spill out through anger at every inconvenience, but no one really taught him how to sit down with himself and understand what bottled up emotion is making him react. He needs someone who can at least nudge him towards trying to understand what and why he's feeling.

Someone who takes him out of his comfort zone. The rigid routine he has been stuck in over the years left its mark on Riddle, making him fear trying out new things. He fears the consequences of failure. But it's natural to be bad before you are good at something, and if you can push Riddle towards trying new things you get to see him at his most vulnerable: someone who simply loves to learn about the wonders of the world around him.

『••✎••』

Ace's ideal type would be...

Someone he can get a reaction out of. Ace is a major tease and a bit of a jerk, but that's part of his charm. From annoyance to fluster, if he can get himself to stay into your mind longer than expected, he'll gladly extend his stay there for as long as possible.

Someone who is not afraid to call him out and keep him in line. Ace doesn't just nod and agree: he likes to make a statement, to be honest and call people out, but his thoughts don't always go through any filters before leaving his lips. He appreciates when you can be honest in return and tell him that he is going too far.

Someone who doesn't get offended from every honest thing he says. Like I mentioned above, Ace doesn't really use his mental filter, and things just come out of his mouth sometimes. He doesn't always mean harm, he just wants to get his point across and be as straightforward as possible. He likes when you're willing to take his feedback before commenting on his lack of filter.

Someone who pays attention to him. It's a surefire way to gain Ace's affection. Rewarding him in just the right ways will have Ace following you like a puppy, if he's not doing that already. Save him a seat in the cafeteria. Get him those cherry flavored candies. Cheer for him during a basketball match. Soon enough he'll reciprocate the gestures.

『••✎••』

Deuce's ideal type would be...

Someone who is comfortable with change. Deuce is always working on ways to become a better person, a better student, a better son, even a better boyfriend. If you can understand why he always needs to seek ways to change, you'll be a welcome presence in his life.

Someone responsible. Deuce is not the most reliable student out there. He's trying, but not always succeeding. So, if he has someone to look up to, it will motivate him and won't let him dwell on his shortcomings for too long.

Someone he can make mistakes with. He deeply regrets his past as a delinquent, so he holds himself to a standard that always seems to be out of his reach, and kicks himself up when he doesn't reach it. If you can teach him that baby steps are more important than huge change, you'll earn a place in Deuce's heart.

Someone who finds family important. This might sound weird, but you won't always be Deuce's top priority. His mom, Dillah, is the only person who was in his corner no matter what while he was growing up. He wants to do everything he can to repay her for everything she did. Someone who understands the importance of family in Deuce's life reassures him that not only you'll fit in his family, but you'll be on a similar page when he decides it's time to bring up you two making your own.

『••✎••』

Trey's ideal type would be...

Someone who appreciates baking. You don't have to be good at it. You don't even need to know too much about it! Trey likes the attention you give him whenever he bakes, especially since he does it very often.

Someone who doesn't push him to be more than what he is. Trey has a very solid sense of self, and knows exactly what he wants to do to live a comfortable and satisfying life. Just trust him and let him know you are confident he knows what he's doing, and don't bring up any "wasted potential" talk.

Someone who calls him out when he jumps to conclusions. Trey is observant, kind and compassionate; however he also tends to underestimate the people around him, in the way that he thinks everyone who has his sympathy needs his support. Don't hesitate to remind him how that backfired for him, and he'll appreciate it.

Someone who can enjoy a small prank war with him. At the end of the day, Trey likes teasing people and a good, harmless practical joke has him smirking at you for days. You can always try to put salt in his coffee or misplace his notes, but you also need to be prepared for the consequences.

『••✎••』

Cater's ideal type would be...

Someone who doesn't wear their heart to their sleeve. They say a bit of mystery makes someone more attractive, and Cater totally agrees. He does find the honest types adorable, but to catch and keep his attention on you, you have to leave some cards close to your chest. It will leave him curious and eager to unravel you, piece by piece.

Someone who enjoys aesthetic things. Cater often takes out his phone to snap pics of various things he finds cool or interesting to post to his Magicam. Don't be afraid to send him pictures you've taken as well! Just don't send too many pink things.

Someone who gives him space when he needs it. It's no secret Cater is pretty closed off emotionally and doesn't really like to make close relationships. While it's good to bring him out of his shell in the emotional department, overdoing it will overwhelm him and push him away. You have to do it bit by bit, leaving him enough space to decide when it's okay to seek you out himself.

Someone who is willing to be more emotionally open first. Creating a safe space is key. You will have to make the first step if you want you two to develop a deeper connection. If you extend your hand first, he'll at least consider taking it.

『••✎••』

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Shouldn't Have Said It

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: relationship angst, heartbreak, getting roofied at a bar by someone you trust

Summary: It's been a month since you and Bucky broke up, and it's been the hardest month of your life. In that time, you realize you never wanted to be apart from Bucky. You put your trust in the wrong person, and your entire life hangs in the balance.

Between Love and Hate Masterlist

Squares Filled: "told you so" (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You didn't know how hard this was going to be for you. You didn’t leave because you fell out of love with Bucky. You left because it breaks your heart when Bucky takes away life like he’s God or something. Could you get over it? Maybe. You shouldn’t have said what you said to him. Maybe there was room for improvement but you were so stricken with grief that you said exactly what you were feeling at that moment.

It’s been nearly a month since you and Bucky broke things off so why doesn’t it feel over with? You want nothing more than to go running back to him but it’s like you’re stuck between true love and your morals. Killing is wrong. Taking a human life is a crime. Bucky should be in jail for what he’s done. He’s the bad guy, so why do you dream of him every night? Your parents raised you to be good and to help where you can. They taught you to love and care for others. If they knew what you’ve been doing, they’d shun you for sure.

You’re scared your innocence will be stripped down to nothing if you continue to stay with Bucky. You have given him everything you possibly could. Is there anything left?

Gio noticed a change in not only your appearance but the fact that you don’t smile anymore. You’re not dressing in your usual style--flowing dresses, shorts, tanks, and all of them in bright colors. Now, you’re dressed in dark colors, jeans, and band t-shirts with your hair in a bun most days. Over the past moonth, you might have said maybe ten words to him and he’s been a gentleman and let you have the space you’re silently asking for.

Even when you and Bucky are broken up, he still finds ways to take care of you. He sent you a new verison of the car you had before so you’re not walking or taking public transportation, but you refuse to use it. That’s a pity car and you’re not taking any charity even though it’s nice and you really want to use it. It’s not going to help much but you got a job at the local hardware store where you can save up for a car on your own.

If you truly want to be done with Bucky, you can’t use anything he gives you. Yeah, keep telling yourself that. It’s so damn hard moving on because you’re still so damn in love with him.

When Gio sees you sitting alone at lunch, he decides it’s time to bring up whatever’s got you in a slum. He walks across the huge cafeteria and sits next to you. You barely look at him but he does hear you mutter his name.

“Going through a break up is never easy.”

You look up at hi with slightly red and puffy eyes.

“How did you know?”

“It doesn’t take a genius to fit the puzzle together. Bucky isn’t around anymore.” You sigh and look back down at your food. “I didn’t want tot say anything to give you space but it’s been a month. Come out drinking with me and some friends.”

“I don’t know…”

“It’s fifty cent wings at the bar on campus. They got an overshipment of chicken wings and need them to go out before they go bad. Come on, it’s one night.”

Maybe this will be good for you. You’ve been sitting in your apartment all alone looking at pictures of you and Bucky. You’re making yourself sad so going out might be the way to move on.

“Okay, just one night.”

“Can I pick you up?”

“Yeah. I’ll text you my address.”

“Cool,” he smiles. “You’re not going to regret it.” His energy makes you smile even if it’s small. “I made you smile, right? That’s progress.”

Gio gets up and leaves you alone. Gio would be so easy to be with but he’s not Bucky. He doesn’t give you the sense of danger and adventure you had when you were with Bucky. You watch him walk away, and as much as you try not to, you see Bucky walking away from you. Yeah, you might really need this night out or maybe you’re forcing yourself to get over Bucky when you know you don’t want to.

Oh, I don’t know what to do or think.

When you get home, you immediately start getting ready even though you have three hours to spare because if you don’t distract yourself, you’ll start to think about Bucky and cancel on Gio. You don’t dress fancy since you’re going to go to a campus bar but you at least try to put something nice on. Gio comes when he sayid he would, and you meet him in the parking lot. You’re not an idiot. Being with Bucky made you cautious with most things in your life. Gio is an amazing man but Bucky made you weary of anyone in your life.

“Wow,” Gio smiles.

“What?”

“You look beautiful.”

“It’s just jeans and a t-shirt,” you say shyly.

“Even better.”

It only takes ten minutes to get to the bar which is already lively with people. Gio meets up with his friends who welcome you in with open arms. There are already three boxes of wings on the table that are all half devoured with more on the way. Gio orders two beers and sits with you at the table when he grabs them. Football games are playing on all of the TV screens, people are playing darts and pool in teams, and everyone is having such a good time.

Why aren't you?

“So? How do you feel?” Gio asks and nudges your shoulder.

“This isn’t so bad, I guess,” you chuckle.

“Told you so. I’m glad I could convince you to come out.”

“Well, I figure I had my month to wallow. It’s time to move on.”

Are you saying that to Gio or yourself? Are you really ready to move on? Do you even want to? I don’t know what to think. My head is all jumbled and confused. You look at Gio with a small smile wishing you were here with Bucky instead. Actually, you wish you were back in Italy with Bucky. You had to put your entire life on hold when you were there, and you’d give anything to feel that way again.

“Your skills are getting better in class. No one can sew like you.”

“Thank you. My mother was a seamstress. She’s to thank for my love of designing.”

“What about your dad?”

“He’s an architect. I get designing from him as well. What about your parents?”

Gio clears his throat and looks down at his beer.

“My mom died when I was a baby. I don’t remember much about her except the stories I’ve heard.”

“I’m sorry. What about your dad?” you ask and sip your beer. Gio’s face immediately hardens into something that makes you uneasy. He spares you a glance and forces himself to relax but the anger is still there. “Are you okay?”

“My dad passed away a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh, my God. I’m so sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he shrugs. “I don’t really like to talk about it.” You nod in understanding when his eyes meet yours. There’s a dark anger in his eyes that he can’t hide. He sees how taken aback you are so he grabs your half-drank beer and his almost finished one. “Let me get you another drink.”

He’s gone before you can say anything. You sigh and look around the crowded bar in thought.

“You’re out on a date with that guy?” You snap your head up when you hear his voice. “Come home. I miss you.”

Bucky is sitting right next to you as if he’s really there. You look around in panic but when you look back at Bucky, he’s gone. Who were you kidding? You can’t do this. You’re an idiot if you thought you were ready to move on. Who are you kidding right now? You don’t want to move on. No, you don’t. You miss Bucky. You miss his touch after a long day and the way his rough hands run over your smooth skin. You miss his lips when they kiss all over your body. You miss his smile when you make him work for your attention. You miss his blue eyes and the way they darken when you put on that red little number he loves so much.

So what if he kills people, right? He’d kill for you. That shows how much he loves you, right? He’d do anything to protect you. He treats you like a Queen, and you’re an idiot to let him go. If only your parents could see you now.

Gio comes back with a different drink in his hands. Right. Gio. You want to go home. Will Bucky take you back after what you said to him? Can he find it in himself to love you again?

“Hey, listen, you’re great and super nice but I don’t think I’m ready for this. It’s not you. I’m just not ready.”

“No worries,” he smiles. He sets a red-colored drink on the table in front of you. “I got you your favorite drink. Let me just say bye to my friends and I’ll take you home.”

“Thank you.”

Gio leaves your side to do what he said he was going to do. You take the glass and down the alcohol easily. Gio comes back shortly and you get out of the booth to leave. However, when you take the first step, your legs immediately feel like jelly. Gio catches you before you go crashing to the ground, and you look away in embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry. This usually doesn’t happen. I’m not a lightweight.”

You and Bucky once had a drinking contest to see who could drink the most and you won. Despite how hard and dangerous he can be, he can’t handle his alcohol well.

“Come on, let’s get you to the car.”

Gio helps you to his car and inside the passenger side. Your headache is worse, your body feels completely numb, and your vision is starting to blur. What the hell happened? Gio gets behind the wheel and pulls away from the bar.

“I don’t feel so good,” you slur.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take you home. Just go to sleep.”

He makes a right onto the main road and drives down the dark and desolate road. The last thing on your mind before you succumb to the darkness is that in order to get to your apartment, he had to make a left, not a right.

x

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[aayakashii]

violence sometimes might be the answer

Lyca defenders UNITE!!!

Warning: a bit of violence 🤫 this isn't proof-read yet so pls forgive the occasional typo or grammar flounder lol also it can definitely be read as platonic too, you're just very protective of your werewolf 😔

"We have to go! We have to go! Come on, hurry up!" Lyca tugged you and Subaru by the hands, forcing the both of you to trot clumsily behind him while he dragged you towards the cafeteria.

"Lyca, calm down!" Subaru chastised him, but made no actual effort to stop him on his tracks and neither did you. In fact, all you did was laugh.

Lyca had been talking about that day the entire week – the cafeteria was having pudding as dessert, and he desperately wanted to try it. He even made you and Subaru promise not to eat at Sho's food truck because he didn't want to go all alone to the cafeteria to try it.

And knowing how prejudiced most students were, you two agreed and promised you'd keep him company (and between you and Subaru, you also promised to keep him safe).

Thus, he dragged you to the crowded cafeteria and excitedly waited in line, all just to try that pudding. You could only hope it was going to live up to his hype.

Par for the course, you were very much aware of the looks and whispers of the students surrounding you. Luckily, Lyca seemed to be able to keep it all as background noise most of the time, but you still had a hard time keeping quiet whenever some stuck up elite student curled their lips in disgust as they looked at Lyca.

Subaru fidgeted on his spot, also painfully conscious of the awful comments made towards his friend. That was one of the many reasons why he preferred to eat at the terrace – less people, less judgment. But how could he, or you, deny a request like that from someone who spent such a large portion of his life away from the simple enjoyments of life? Lyca just wanted to eat pudding. How could that be so bad?

As the line moved forward, Lyca began to worry. There were just a few little cups left and too many people around him.

He bounced on his heels, laser focused on how many people were grabbing the dessert he wanted. A relieved smile spread onto his face when it was finally his turn to order his food and there was still one pudding cup left.

As he reached for it, however, a pale hand swatted him away and snatched the cup before him.

“Frostheim students have priority over lowly monsters.” a man said, cutting the line in front of Lyca, and staring him down in disdain with a wicked smirk plastered on his face.

Lyca glared at him, clenching his fists, and his mouth opened to retort, when he suddenly remembered you were standing just a few steps away.

Rui's voice echoed into his mind. “If you cause troubles, it won't bring problems just for you, but for the Honor Student as well! You don't want that, do you?”

And Lyca didn't want that.

Instead, he closed his mouth and unclenched his fist, looking down at his feet and breathing deeply, until he felt like he wouldn't rip the student's throat apart.

The student huffed in contempt and walked away, maneuvering towards his seat.

Behind him, you felt your face burning. Your eyes were trained on Lyca's hunched back before you and you barely registered Subaru muttering curses under his breath. All you could feel was searing hot rage. It bubbled in your stomach and spilled down your guts, drenching your insides in vengeful anger.

You did not notice when you began walking purposefully towards the student. All you knew is that you were seeing red.

You were deaf to the sounds of Subaru calling your name and blind to Kaito and Luca waving at you as you passed by (and their confused faces when you ignored them).

In retrospect, you probably have never felt that much rage before. Not when Taiga strapped you to his torture chair, not when Leo shit talked you at the end of your mission with Vagastrom, not when Romeo yelled at you for whatever stupid reason. None of that could hold a candle to the fury that seeped through your pores at that moment.

You realized, as you stomped loudly towards the Frostheim student, that you could excuse the awful treatment towards you, but you drew the line on anyone harming Lyca.

"Excuse me" you tapped the man on the shoulder. He wasn't much taller than you, which worked wonderfully for what you wanted to do.

"What do you want?" He turned around and narrowed his eyes at you, clearly annoyed that you interrupted his way to his table.

From then on, it all went by quite quickly.

You grabbed his cup, filled to the brim with grape juice and threw it on his face without missing a beat. As he blinked away the sticky liquid, sputtering, you picked up the pudding cup and placed it unceremoniously on the table beside you – you would give it to Lyca after you were done with the asshole.

"What do you think you're doing, bitch?! Are you crazy?!" the student yelled, but instead of answering, you flipped the plate of spaghetti he had picked up onto his face, pushing hard, until he almost lost balance. The plate crashed on the ground beside his feet and he tried to avoid stepping on it while noodles ran down his face, hair and uniform, obstructing his vision.

You quickly snatched the tray away from his hand, throwing it far behind you, barely registering where it landed. You pushed him down with even more force.

The man finally fell hard onto the ground with a loud thud, yelling as his hand was pierced by one of the plate's broken pieces. You stepped over him, leaning down to pull him closer to your face by his necktie. He coughed, bringing his arms towards his face, trying to shield himself from you.

"Listen here. You act like an asshole towards Lyca one more fucking time. And I will kill you. Do you understand?" You murmured through gritted teeth, eyes wide and nose flared up. The student whimpered under you, eyes shut in fear and blood dripping down his hand.

"Do you fucking understand?! Answer me!" You shook him, yelling, and he mumbled apologies incoherently.

You opened your mouth again to yell, when a pair of hands grabbed you by the shoulders and began pulling you away from the man.

"That's enough! Enough!”

Behind you, Luca shook you in order to snap you out of your rage-induced trance.

You inhaled sharply, blinking fast, and let go of the student's tie, letting him fall down again with another harsh thud. You felt your senses come back to you as you turned around and saw Luca and Kaito staring at you, horrified. A few steps further, Subaru and Lyca were also standing, watching your meltdown with something akin to bewilderment on their faces.

"Let's get out of here, quick." Luca began pulling you by the hand while Kaito almost ripped his own hair out in concern. You nodded mindlessly, stepping away from the man that was moaning in pain behind you.

Before you could leave the cafeteria and run away from all the prying eyes that were locked onto you, you looked to your side and snatched the pudding you had stolen from the boy. You were going to give it to Lyca.

"What on earth did you think you were doing?!"

After running as fast as your legs could take you, you stopped near your dorm's entrance, with Luca, Kaito, Subaru and Lyca beside you. Luca was giving you a disapproving glare that almost made you regret your attack. Almost.

You breathed deeply, trying to calm down your racing heart before answering.

"He bullied Lyca." you told Luca with a determined look on your face.

That seemed to have caught Luca off guard.

“We-well! But even so!” He stuttered, trying to explain his point “You're the Honor Student, you can't do this type of thing!”

You looked away, feeling the burn on the palm of the hand that grasped the student's tie. Adrenaline sure was a crazy thing. In a normal setting, you'd never be able to lift someone's weight like that with just one hand.

“I know. I'm not sorry though.” You muttered.

“...” Luca stared at you, grimacing.

“I know what I did was wrong.” You continued “But I'm not sorry! If Lyca can't defend himself because these assholes will whine and cry to their daddies at the littlest threat, then I will defend him.” you pointed to yourself and sustained Luca's gaze, unwilling to change your mind.

Beside you, Lyca scrunched his eyebrows and looked at his feet, a red blush tinting his face. Subaru tried hiding a grin behind his hand, doing his best not to escalate the situation.

“I- I understand where you're coming from, but... the Academy will probably punish you, you know?” Kaito added “Bu-but I totally get your point! Those guys are jerks!”

You shrugged, carelessly.

“I'll talk to the Chancellor or something. I don't know. I don't care! I'm sick of these people!” you raised your voice again and they flinched.

What were they going to do? Kill you? Lock you up? Wow big deal, you'd just be hurrying up the process since that's what they'd do anyway if you weren't cured. If you were going to suffer sooner or later, you'd like to at least defend your friend before that.

“... we'll talk to the Captain for you.” Luca announced, after a few moments of silence.

“We will?!” Kaito screeched.

“You will?!"

“Yes. Bullying is unacceptable, after all. No one should be discriminated against, no matter who they are. It's shameful behavior for a Frostheim student.” he put a hand over his heart and you knew he was being sincere.

“Luca...!”

“But!” He raised a finger “You can't do this type of thing anymore!"

You nodded frantically.

“Okay. I'll apologize to Jin too.”

“And to the student you beat up?”

Your face fell.

“No. Not until he apologizes to Lyca.” you pointed at the werewolf, to make your statement clearer

“I don't need an apology!” Lyca yelled, face burning red.

You shook your head.

“I don't care. They gotta treat you properly whether they like you or not! It's basic human decency! Otherwise I'll keep beating their ass.”

“Hey!” Luca reprimanded.

“Oh.” You cleared your throat “Sorry.”

He sighed.

“Okay... well. We'll think of something to tell Jin, right Kaito?”

“Y-yes!” Kaito gave you a thumbs up “We'll defend your side, somehow.”

You and the two Frostheim students fidgeted in place for a moment, feeling awkward.

“W-well. We better go then. News travels quickly. Don't get into more trouble!”

You smiled and bowed deeply.

“I won't! Thank you Luca, thank you Kaito!”

As their figures retreated towards the way to Frostheim's dorm, you got up from your position and began dusting off your clothes. There were droplets of sauce and grape juice on your blazer and you frowned at the sight of them.

Suddenly, Subaru stepped beside you and leaned a bit closer, covering his mouth as if he was going to tell you a secret.

"You know... I think you looked so cool defending Lyca!" He grinned mischievously with an embarrassed blush on his face.

“I did?” You scrunched your nose and grinned back.

Lyca scoffed.

“I didn't need defending! I was fine!” He pouted “B-but... thank you... that was really cool…” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

You playfully messed up his hair, earning a growl from him.

“I'll always defend you. You can count on me. And by the way, here it is.” You extended your arm towards him, grabbing his hand.

“What is it?” He asked, looking at the cup you placed on his palm.

“It's the pudding you wanted. It's yours now.”

Lyca stared wordlessly at the pudding that started the whole mess, mouth agape.

Beside you, as he shook his head, Subaru began laughing.

[your-girl-mj]

heyy! could you do hcs where the reader is a female and is ganke's cousin and she just moved to brooklyn from korea and then she meets miles at the brooklyn visions academy and miles fell first but she fell harder?? tysm if you will do it!

that's your cousin?? [42 + 1610!Miles × f!reader]

summary: he fell first, but she fell harder. headcanons!

warning: swear words.

note: she/her for reader, he/him for miles, he/him for ganke.

created: august 20, 2023

published: august 21, 2023

earth-1610 [miles morales]

he fell first

she was the first thing miles noticed when he got into physics class.

headphone plugged in her ears, the sun from the window shining on the side of her face. her fingers twisting and turning, playing with the pen in her hand as she read a comic book.

baby deer is mesmerised.

miles was in complete awestruck

to the point their teacher told him to sit down because he's frozen in his spot, staring at her.

miles took a seat next to her.

he was awkwardly fidgeting, stealing glances at her every now and then.

he wants to talk but doesn't know how to start :(

at the cafeteria, miles is sitting down brainstorming how he will talk to her.

he didn't expect her to sit right in front of him.

she talked to his roommate in korean, though it was more like they're arguing over the food choice.

she left shortly to fetch something while ganke ate

"hey, ganke. you know the new girl?"

"[name]? yeah, she's my cousin."

"that's your cousin???"

[name] retreated back before he could ask anymore questions

the next day in physics, he sat in the same seat again.

he's writing a script about how he will talk to her and how the conversation would go if he said something like this and like that.

he heard her humming to his favourite song, sunflower; as she sat next to him.

he panicked for a second because [name] knew his favourite song was not on the script

"uh, hey. you like sunflower too?"

boy, he's sweating like crazy when he only received a side eye.

"y'know...the song? heh, i uh, like that song, too..." he's biting the inside of his cheek, wanting the floor to swallow him whole.

"i guess it's not so bad."

that simple comment made his day bright. he looked back, with a smiley smiley face, but wipe it off. like, it's cool. she's cool, he's cool, everything is cool.

"yeah, yeah uh.. it's sounds okay."

[name] hides a snort because she can clearly see how happy he is at something.

"hey, i didn't catch your —"

the teacher shushed him, and it got him embarrassed.

he was doing a good job talking with her, and now he looks like someone who doesn't listen to classes.

he's literally have a :( face.

"[name] [lastname]"

her voice echoed and he's awestruck again, and thinking; "she talks to me again! she likes me too!"

"oh uh, I'm miles. miles morales." he made sure he repeated his first name like those cool dude introduced themselves in action films.

and his uncle aaron used to do that too.

do not even get me to the shoulder touch.

she was by her locker and then closed the door and saw miles standing there, waiting for her.

the original plan in his head is he's gonna do the shoulder touch and then ask her if she wanna hang out after school.

and his prayers are not enough.

"hi?" she looked at him sceptical.

— it was so awkward, and miles made it even worse when he put a hand on her shoulder and made a ... some sort of face at her

"hey."

his one brow is rised, it's like he's smiling but also not?

[name] literally have "??????" flying over her head. and look at him weirdly.

"hey?" she repeated his word in a question matter.

miles felt sad after that because he thought she wouldn't talk to him anymore and that he look so weird in her perspective.

but [name] act like that awkward moment never happen to save miles' whole being.

and he's so grateful for her to do that.

she fell harder

how can she not fall for him? he's an absolute sweetheart!

miles invites her to all his hangouts with ganke

(ganke doesn't give a shit but it bothers him a bit that his roommate have heart eyes for his cousin)

sometimes, he brought to her different places in brooklyn. and even if there's a warning sign, it didn't stop her from going with him.

miles treated her so well it makes her heart go BOOM BOOM BOOM

he always has a hand out to help her up, like she wants to get up and his hand is out.

"let me help you up," was always his dialogue for her.

he also pays for her food.

(she and ganke fought about who's miles' favorite)

(in korean of course. no way they let miles heard it.)

he likes to leave little gifts for her.

mostly it was little notes and drawings.

sometimes it was a freshly picked sunflower, or sometimes he gave her a full-grown [fav.flower]

she doesn't know how he got it in a city but didn't question it.

the fact that miles is just expressing his feelings, [name] feel more and more appreciated.

no boy can ever top miles.

[name] is not used to his act of service.

she refuses, knowing she can handle it herself.

but only accept when he insisted or when he looks disappointed.

miles do it all the time, that it became a routine for him <33

to the point that [name] also got used to his sweet actions and unconsciously sought it T_T

(ganke was force to get use to it)

she noticed she feels more giddy with him

she knew she fell when miles stuttered a few words in her mother tongue.

in her head, she was screaming, "HE LEARN HER LANGUAGE SO SHE CAN TALK EASILY TO HIM"

while miles want to jump off the window by how stupid he thinks he sounds.

miles did so much for her. she always returned it back as well. <33

miles is too flustered to even keep his "cool" demeanour whenever she left little notes like he always do

little cousin is forced again to participate (she made ganke give miles her old art materials that still work)

of course, she finds out he's spiderman.

she wasn't allowed to go to the boy's dormitory and vice versa.

but she couldn't take it anymore when her cousin "borrowed" her comic book and hasn't given back for over 5 months and it's pissing her off because she knew ganke can be careless with her things.

she opened the door unannounced and saw something she shouldn't

miles was trying to take off his suit but is stuck, and ganke is helping by pulling it as well.

[name] awkwardly close the door.

with a flaming crimson face, before bolting to her dorm.

miles is slamming his head repeatedly on the wall.

ganke was a little worried that miles' secret is revealed to his cousin, and she might tell on them

that's not what miles is sulking for.

"she saw me without a shirt on... kill me."

he's so embarrassed, he want to stop existing.

to be honest, she doesn't give two fucks that he's spiderman, she's just angry they didn't tell her

especially miles.

they make up tho <33

their hangouts upgraded from abandoned train vandalism to watching the sunset from the top of a tower.

it was also where they had their first date.

[name] confessed. she did it first before miles for the last second.

he's a little pouty about it because it made him look like a chicken

earth-42 [miles morales]

he fell first

just because he fell first doesn't mean he notice her on her first day.

miles didn't officially meet her in school.

he met her at night. when he was prowler, patrolling.

he saw it with his night vision. a drunk guy was following a girl.

he already know it's not gonna end well.

miles was ready to tackle the guy from the top of the building, but what the girl did was unexpected.

she has a tazer in her hand, electrocute the drunk by his neck.

she watches its body tremble for a few seconds before she lets go.

the drunk's body just fell unconscious with a loud thud

the girl needs things to protect herself too, y'know, especially in a city full of crimes.

miles felt his heart do a small flip.

a smirk under his mask as she watch her walked away like nothing happened.

she's a tough one. feisty. and he's desperate for her number.

but he can't just randomly show up. he'll get knocked out as well, and he doesn't want that.

miles thought he'll never see that girl again, but to his general shock, they sat next to each other in one of his class.

he's pissed at himself for not noticing her much earlier.

miles is also pissed when he saw her and his roommate hanging out, inside and outside school.

he thought they were lovers 💀

he's pissed at himself when he finds out she's ganke's cousin.

"that's your cousin...?"

"yeah, she transferred here for over 7 months now."

"...fuck."

he get that they're not that close but still. he's still his roommate, and he could've told him about his cousin he didn't know about.

and didn't make him listen to broken-hearted songs on repeat.

he learned her name indirectly, which was [name] [lastname].

mister here finds himself searching for her whenever he's on patrol or when he's on a heist with his uncle.

his mask have a search thing where you type a person's name, and then he can detect if they're around the area. (inspired by his uncle's old mask)

it has a history bar, and aaron is shocked to see a girl's name over and over again.

one lucky morning is when they got partnered up, and they both started hanging out.

from strangers to best friend kind of one.

but one of them already have feelings for the other.

and he wishes to stay it that way unless she shows some signs she likes him too.

she fell harder.

every moment she feels herself falling, she's snapping herself out of it.

he's good-looking, of course he is.

he always thought he was scary, especially with the rumours of him being in a fight after his dad died.

he always has this frown in his face, too

her fear of miles made ganke take advantage of it by hiding in his dormitory knowing she will leave because miles will show up in any second

she's mad at him for it. (she didn't talk to him in 4 months)

but when they become friends, she feels a small, giddy feeling inside.

miles treated her differently.

but a good differently. anyone can tell he have a soft spot for her and no one knows why, even [name] herself.

yes, he still teased and was annoying as usual, but the way his eyes softened at the sight of her made her feel content with life itself.

she feels a bit special how miles treated her differently than the others.

let say she read a trope like theirs

she didn't look into it much. she hates that assuming something that will turn out to be wrong, she has false hope this entire time.

that's why she stopped herself whenever they're together.

she still acts like she did with everyone else, but she's a little more open to miles than the others.

she lost it when he suddenly grabbed hold of her shoulder, looking directly in her eyes with an unreadable expression.

"hey." was all he can say, and her face fires up like one of her cells commited arson

"oh, oh shit. uh, hi? what the fuck??" she suddenly blurbs out, jumbled on her own words. "miles, what??? what the hell??"

miles burst out laughing at her reaction, he haven't laughed like that in a long time.

[name] just stood there processing everything. she's flabbergasted.

was that a flirt?? or was she not paying attention for him to do crazy things like that???

after that, she didn't know what just happened or what he ate, but [name] feels like he's flirting.

and she's flirting back, with a little violent action as well.

she smacks him every time he smirks, that literally screams, "you want me so bad."

miles concluded her love language is physical. just physical. (she hits him too much that he feels numb but won't change a thing <3)

few weeks later, they're dating, miles did the shoulder touch, and he swear that will not work (it did) to see if she likes him too or not.

through out their relationship, [name] get easier to be flustered now than before since miles was born a flirt.

this is my first time doing headcanons, so idk if i do it right. snsbsksbei

but i hope you like it! comments and reblog are deeply appreciated. thank you for reading!

[malarign]

ur probs insanely busy but I just had an idea based on a TikTok I saw (typical)… basically I think it would make a really good heeseung angst where he thought it would be fun to play around with his partner and make them a little jealous - either cause they were unintentionally being too friendly with someone else or whatever you feel like coming up with - but it just turns out going bad and his partner gets super upset and there’s a lot of comfort. anyway now that I typed it it kinda sounds cringe but go wild if u want

jealousy, jealousy

(when you get jealous of his co-worker)

contains: idolbf!Heeseung x gn!reader | genre: angst, fluff | tw! kissing, mentions of food, the reader is insecure about their looks, please remember, everybody is pretty in their own way | wc: 1,1k

reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreciated!

author’s note: thank you anon and sorry for the delay, i was in fact pretty busy 😵‍💫 also! no hate to the anon who sent this request but if you want to make your partner jealous intentionally just don’t get into a relationship! 🤭

“Have a lovely day, dear! I’ll let you know when I’m done with work today and maybe we’ll grab some dinner together?” Heeseung said in a rush, putting his shoes on.

“Sure, just don’t overwork yourself m’kay?” You fixed the collar of his coat and smiled.

“Anything for you, baby.” He left a last sweet kiss on your lips and bid his last goodbyes for today.

Closing the door behind him you decided to get to work on your assignments. You sighed seeing the workload you had. A sudden rush of motivation took over your body and mind and got to grips with everything. Closing your laptop you took a look at the clock on the wall in front of you. The day just started and you had plenty of time before Heeseung would come back home, so you decided to pay him a visit at work.

It wouldn’t be the first time you visited him at work, yet you always can’t help but feel anxious at the thought of your presence there among other idols. You were intimidated not only because of their popularity and fame but also because of their stunning looks which often made you jealous. His pretty co-workers didn’t have to do anything, in particular, to make you feel insecure, intimidated, and simply ugly. Despite your concerns you never dared to disclose them to your boyfriend, afraid he would laugh at your worries.

You arrived at his company and went straight to their practice room, but you met with silence and darkness. Confused you wanted to call Heeseung, but then a familiar voice caught your attention.

“Y/n?” You saw Jake at the other end of the hallway. “Heeseung didn’t tell me you’ll come over” He smiled after jogging your way.

“I finished my work earlier today so I thought I would surprise him but can’t find him.”

“Oh! He’s eating lunch right now with the rest of the guys. Come on, join us, they’re serving your favorite,” Jake laughed as he nudged your side jokingly.

You felt your stomach grumble at the thought of their cafeteria’s food and walked with him to the elevator. Before you stepped in, he excused himself as he had some other obligations and left you.

Opening the door to the dining area you were met with the smell of fried rice and chicken. Many people gathered to eat so finding Heeseung bordered on the miraculous. When you finally noticed him you saw he was talking to one of his co-workers, smiling widely and telling jokes as they both ate their lunches. You took a few steps back at the sight, a wave of fear rushed down your spine.

Their smile, their hair, their eyes, their figure. Everything about them screamed perfection, making you embarrassed about how you looked. They’re beautiful, talented in many ways, while you were just an ordinary person, who wouldn’t find their place on stage.

Heeseung raised from his seat after he finished his meal and made his way to the elevators, right where you were. You quickly turned around and pushed a button to close the door as fast as possible. Looking at the mirror you noticed a few teardrops on your cheeks and wiped them off your face.

“I’m back!” Heeseung’s voice echoed in your apartment as you quietly fidgeted with the hem of the blanket you were under. “Jake told me you were at Hybe, why didn’t you tell me?” he asked and made his way to the kitchen and took a bottle of apple juice.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled under your nose and continued playing with the fabric.

“I didn’t hear you, can you repeat?”

“I don’t know, Heeseung,” you repeated yourself louder, sounding a little bit too harsh than you intended to.

Your tone and the way you called him by his name and not one of many nicknames you used made him confused.

“Hey, are you mad?” he asked and sat next to you. “Is it because I didn’t call? I’m so sorry, my love, but I got caught up in so much work I didn’t realize it got so late,” he said and tilted his head as he spoke.

“No, it’s not because you didn’t call.” You looked him in the eyes and that’s when he noticed your tear-stained cheeks.

“Are you crying? Love, what’s happening?” Heeseung cupped your face as he scanned your features. “We agreed not to hide our worries from each other,” he reminded you.

His sweet voice and full of love words made you cry, leaving him even more confused than before. Quietly embracing you in a comforting and warm hug he waited for you to calm down. Instead, he heard your voice, full of distress.

“Why would you love me, when there are so many other people who are way better than me?” You spoke incomprehensibly, but still enough for him to understand what you said.

“Why would you say that? Love, where is that coming from?”

You pulled away from his embrace and wiped your tears to look at him.

“Why would you want to be with me, an ordinary person, who will never understand your struggles as a public person? Why would you want to be with me, who has nothing to offer but coarseness? I’m not as beautiful as your co-workers. I’m not as talented, as charismatic, as interesting as them, so why would you want to settle down with me? When will you realize that they’re perfect and I’m not enough for you?”

Heeseung listened to you attentively, keeping eye contact with you throughout your whole monologue. When you were done he thought for a second to gather his wits and took your hands into his, rubbing your skin with his thumbs.

“Love, why didn’t you tell me earlier you felt that way? Gosh, I don’t care that you’re not a public person. Why would I want you to be one? Y/n, nobody knows and understands me more than you do. What you offer is not coarseness but stability and my safe space. Nobody makes me feel so safe and loved as you do. You don’t have to be an idol to be the most beautiful, talented, charismatic, and interesting person in my eyes. I love you as you are and nothing will change that, okay?”

You lowered your head at his words, feeling embarrassed at your own jealousy.

“My dear, please look at me,” Heeseung spoke and brushed your hair off your face. Looking at him smiling reassuringly made you cry again. You fell into his arms and wrapped yours around his neck, as he left soft kisses on your skin. “I love you so much,” he whispered.

“I love you, Hee.”

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

permanent taglist: (send an ask to be added) @nicholasluvbot

[glossysoap]

you asked for smut requests so what about könig and pegging 🫣🫣

YESSIRRRR

shiny new toy ; könig

tags: fdom reader, msub könig, possessive f!reader, teasing, massaging & oils, overstim, multiple orgasms, post orgasm torture, double sided dildo/strap, milking könig, kortac and 141 are merged in this fic but it doesn’t play a huge part.

note: german will be in bolded italics, the english translation will be right after that in non bolded italics.

word count: 4,877

It all started when you spotted the new girl recruit talking to König in the mess hall.

Your eyes narrowed as you stared at her from across the cafeteria, glaring at her hand that laid on his shoulder and the way she laughed at every little thing he said, even if he was saying the most mundane thing.

Your grip tightened on your juice box as she kept talking his ear off, yapping like a dog. Ghost, Soap and Gaz were sitting next to you at the lunch table. Soap and Gaz were armwrestling and arguing light heartedly, while Ghost would interject with his own opinion every once in a while.

“Yer gonna burn a whole in her head, lass.” Soap joked while he tried to get the upper hand against Gaz.

“And spill your juice with how hard you’re grippin’ it.” Ghost butts in while still staring at the boys’ arm wrestling match.

“Good, she deserves it. Fucking snake,” You scoffed under your breath, referring to Soap’s comment. “And no, I won’t spill it because,” You sipped the rest of your apple juice until the straw made a scraping sound against the carton, “I finished it, thank you very much.”

Soap snickered at your comment about the recruit. He was distracted the slightest bit, but that gave Gaz the perfect window to pin Soap’s arm against the table, winning the match.

“Fuck!” Soap cursed when he lost and Gaz laughed at him.

You were still glaring holes into the recruit when you witnessed the last straw— her hand trailing away from his shoulder over to his chest. Her hand was splayed over his tight shirt, dangerously close to his pecs.

You clenched your jaw and sucked your teeth before sharply getting up from your seat. You chucked your juice box in the trash can a few feet away and slid your lunch tray to the middle of the table.

“I’ll take the rest of yer food while you kick her arse!” Soap cackled as he reached across the table to snatch the rest of your food.

You waved him off and ignored the rest of 141’s heckling and wolf whistles as you stalked over to where König and the annoying recruit stood.

The second you saw him, you could see how nervous he was around the girl. Not in a good way, like how he was with you, not like butterflies erupting in his stomach when he saw you. It was a bad kind of nervous, one that was due to unwanted attention, one that made his stomach turn and hands shake.

Your hands made fists by your side. This was more than just flirting with your König. This was worse. She was making him feel uncomfortable in the one place he should feel in his element. She was making him feel like a piece of meat.

“Who’s this?” You asked König, not even sparing a glance at him. Instead you opted to stare down the recruit, never breaking eye contact and quirking your brow. Unbeknownst to you though, König felt his nerves relax the second you spoke.

You outranked her in every sense, and she knew it. If not by your uniform or your chest candy, but by your stature alone. The way you held yourself in such a confident air, with your head held high. You sneered at her, nose pointed up as if she was nothing more than gum stuck to your shoe.

A nuisance.

“Hm? What’s your name, private?” You pressed, turning your attention completely away from König. “Callsign? Anything?”

She struggled to find words, avoiding your gaze nervously. She fiddled with her hands and her posture lacked any ounce of confidence.

“Your superior asked you a question. Speak.” You ordered. She flinched at your cold tone before finally stuttering out her name and piss-poor ranking.

“Get out.” You barked. She threw her full tray into the trash before scrambling for the exit.

“My room, now.” You ordered König, stern and leaving no room for discussion, but not with nearly as much malice as you used with the recruit.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You could hear his boots hit the tile floor as he followed eagerly behind you like a lost puppy. You couldn’t see the flustered grin he was wearing behind his mask or the flush red of his cheeks.

The two of you soon reached the elevator that was thankfully empty. You punched in the number to the dormitory floor before turning to face König, who was leaning against the wall of the elevator.

The second that the elevator doors shut, you closed the distance between the two of you and pulled his face down to yours by the bottom of his mask.

“The very fucking second we set foot in my room, I’m ruining you.”

(….)

Before König knew it, he was laid on your king size bed, back against your black satin sheets. Fully stripped, every inch of skin on display for you. He also took off his mask, revealing his sharp jawline, defined cheek bones and full brows. It also revealed his Roman nose and all of the scars that littered his face, that you felt only enhanced his beauty.

When he was bare like this, there was nothing to conceal all of the claims you’ve laid on him. His neck was decorated in bruises and bite marks, all black and blue. He itched to have your mouth on him again.

Red scratches were scattered on his chest, reminders of your nails digging into his skin while you rode him the night before.

He waited patiently as you kicked your shoes off and undressed down to your underwear, lace bra and crotch less panties making his mouth water. He yearned to have you sitting on his face, using him like a throne while he savored your juices.

You kept him waiting, though. Parading around your room in your sexy lingerie, not even sparing him a passing glance while you walked over to your dresser.

“What do you think you deserve today? Hmm?” You hummed, still not even looking at him as you rifled to your dresser. You began pulling out massage oils, one that matched your own (perfume/cologne) scent. Just another casual reminder that he belonged to you, wholly and completely.

“The gag, miss. I think I deserve the gag.” He guessed in a low whine. He guessed wrong, if your scoff was any indication. You turned to look at him for a moment.

“No, no, no. None of your noises will be getting muffled tonight. Not if I have anything to say about it.” You muttered, with a smug lilt to your voice. He gulped.

“No, in fact I think if you wanna let some green-in-the-face recruit follow you around like a sad dog, then that sad dog should get to hear who owns you.”

A moment later, he saw you pull out a dildo. It was black at the base and midway up the shaft, before fading into a bright orange. The mushroom head was a bright red, and it melted into the orange shaft to mimic flames. Metallic gold lines marbled the flames, tapering off as the red faded into orange and orange into black.

König’s bright eyes widened when he noticed the length and girth of the new toy. It was about eight inches long, if he had to guess. He could feel warmth settle in his stomach at the sight of your fingers struggling to wrap around the girth. He felt his own cock begin to throb at the sight.

You held that dildo in one hand while pulling out a different one with the other hand. The new toy was a strap-on, he noticed. It was royal purple colored, with realistic veins trailing the underside of the fake cock. The mushroom head of that one was pretty pink. The straps were black leather, and on each side of the hips were pink bows.

This one was about six inches in length and the girth looked more manageable.

Only something was different about this strap-on. It was double ended with another six inch dildo, so that the person wearing it would have their own dildo, while they were fucking the other person with the outer dildo.

“I think I’ll use a bit of both. Give you some variety, hmm?” You proposed with a sickly sweet smile on your lips. Your eyes are crinkled with excitement to pull him apart from the seams and drink him in.

And drink him in, you did.

Just a few minutes later, König was kneeling on the bed with his wrists tied to the bedposts, with his cock sprung up against his stomach. The head was red and weeping already, leaving a trail of precum staining his happy trail. It stood hard at about seven inches, with a good width to wrap your fingers or lips around.

His skin was all flushed and sweaty, almost a peachy pink. His chest heaved with every breath, pant or needy moan that left his pouty mouth. He was already a sniffling, sensitive mess just from your possessive eyes and the promises of pleasure that fell from your lips.

You were sitting criss cross in front of him with a cruel grin on your face, eyebrows raised in faux surprise. Your eyes trailed up and down his form, admiring every scar, bruise and bulging vein that decorated his body.

He gulped as he felt your gaze heavy on his vulnerable body. He looked down nervously, only to let out a surprised gasp when he’s met with the sight of your wet pussy, fully exposed from your crotch less panties. He tries to look away, to bring his attention back to your face, but he can’t look away from your dripping cunt. Just begging to be eaten, devoured.

He salivates at the sight.

“Someone’s already so excited, look at that.” Your smug tone brings him out of his trance, making his eyes dart back to your face. He couldn’t even register your teasing words before your palm covered the head of his cock.

“Mein liebling!” My darling! He gasps at the sudden contact, bucking his hips into the palm of your hand. Begging for more.

You rubbed your palm over the head a few times before you began to stroke him, slow and languid. With every stroke, your thumb traced the vein on the underside of his cock, making him shudder.

“What did you think of that recruit? She looked so pretty, right?” You asked casually, as if you weren’t holding his throbbing, leaking cock right in your hands. Your movements never ceased as you talked about the girl, if anything your hand began pumping even quicker.

He shook his head with wide eyes and pouty lips.

“Nooo,” He whined.

“Yeah, I think that’s why you’re so hard. I think you like all that attention, baby.” You never let up, never stopped long enough for him to respond. You kept on pumping and pumping.

You squeezed at the base of his cock, pulling a cry from his throat. While you kept pumping him, you used your other hand to squeeze at his sac to feel how full he was.

“Aww, and look at how full you are! All of that cum is for that girl, huh?” You cooed, mocking and sickeningly sweet. Using your thumb to stroke at the sensitive skin of his balls.

“No, no! Only for you!” He babbled as he felt his first orgasm of many build up deep in his stomach, all warm and tight.

“Oh, is that right?” You crooned with a mocking pout on your lips.

“Yes, yes! Only you!” He nodded desperately. His hips bucked into your fist, chasing after his high.

You hummed to yourself as you let go off his sac and instead used that hand to tweak at his pink nipples. His moans echoed through the room along with the wet sounds of his precum coating his length.

“Oh my god!” He exclaimed as he felt the knot in his stomach unravel, ropes of cum spurting from his cock and onto his stomach. His eyes rolled back and his mouth opened in a silent scream as he rode out his high.

You continued stroking him though. Determined to milk out every last drop of his orgasm. You pumped him again and again, milking a bit of his juices out with every pump.

“No, no, no. Too much, too much!” He cried out, hips jerking as you kept torturing his sensitive cock.

“Aw, are you sensitive? Yeah?” You asked, feigning concern.

“Uh huh! Please!” He nodded, brows scrunched and eyes glazed over.

“Please what? Please stop? Or… please more?” You asked, slowing down for a moment to let him speak, or use his safeword if he needed to.

But he never used it. He just whined.

He just whined and bucked his hips into your hand, begging for more.

“Oh? I thought you couldn’t take it? You want more, don’t you? Don’t you?” You crooned, not waiting for a reply before you started pumping him again.

His previous orgasm was coating his cock, creating obscenely wet sounds as your hand fisted his length.

“Yeah, you can take it.” You nodded, coaxing more moans from his panting lips. His tongue was sticking out as you milked him for all he was worth, every last drop. Saliva dropped from his tongue and onto his chin.

You leaned forward and licked the saliva from his chin, licking up till you met his mouth with yours. You stuck your tongue in his mouth, swallowing any of his moans and cries of pleasure that bubbled from his throat as you kept pumping him.

His moans quickly became strung together as he approached another impending orgasm. You smirked against his lips, tasting the saltiness of his sweat mixed with tears that had begun flowing down his cheeks from overstimulation.

“Fuck, Y/N! Ah, fuck!” The cries that left his mouth were borderline pornographic, making you smile at how anyone walking by the room would hear just who he belonged to. They could hear exactly who was reducing the mass of a man into a whimpering, cum soaked mess.

“Oh, I know. It’s just so much. But you can take it, I know you can.” You coo into his ear, before taking his earlobe between your teeth and nipping.

He gasped. You knew he was teetering on the edge of his second orgasm, he just needed a bit of a push. You took your chance to lick up his neck before biting down on his jugular vein, where you could feel his pulse beating erratically.

He choked out a high pitched moan, almost a scream, as his second orgasm came in waves. His hips bucked in tandem with each spurt, over and over and over.

You stroked him through his high, gently this time. Once he came down, you removed your hand from his length and brought your hand to his chin. Tilting his head up to face you, you looked into his fucked out, loopy gaze.

“You doing good? Hm? Say the word and this is all over, you know that right?” You reminded him.

“Doing good, so so good. Please, I want more. I need more.” He begged, sending warmth straight to your core.

“Alright, then.” You grinned, glancing at the two toys from earlier that were laying next to you on the bed.

You reached for the massage oil that was laid with the toys and opened the cap, before squirting some onto his chest. He shivered, the contrast of the cold oil against his warm skin making goosebumps form.

You rubbed the oil into his skin, taking your time and savoring your boyfriends’ muscles. You pressed into any knot you felt, massaging any stress or tension that you came across and melting it away.

You used both hands to trace around his nipples, before rubbing over them with your thumbs. The buds soon hardened under your touch, making him whimper when you started pinching them a bit between your thumb and index finger.

You moved your hands up to his broad shoulders and massaged the oil into those tight, hard muscles. With every press and push of your palm into his skin, he let out pleased sighs, feeling any tension fade away.

“How’s that?” You checked in, wanting to make sure he was comfortable in this small bit of respite you were allowing him.

His pink lips formed a content grin, brows relaxed as he looked at you with hooded eyes.

“Mm, feels good. Always know how to make me feel good, mausi.” Mouse. He praised as he stretched his shoulders, letting out a pleased whine as he did.

You grinned at his words as you squirted some more oil onto his abdomen, letting it drip down into his happy trail. You feigned innocence as some oil “accidentally” dripped onto the head of his sensitive cock.

“Ah!” He choked, the cold oil making his hips jerk.

You rubbed the oil into his v-line, slowly tracing his hip bones and feeling the tickle of his auburn curls at your palm.

You could hear him panting as you ventured closer and closer to his throbbing member.

“What do you want, baby?” You asked, hand moving down past his cock to rub his thick thighs.

He only whined in response, bucking his hips against your hands. You pushed his hips down against the bed, gently but firm enough to keep him still.

“No, no. Use your words.” You order, bringing a hand up to cup his cheeks, making his lips pout.

“Please, schatz. Please touch me!” Darling. He begged, his voice muffled from his cheeks being squished in your grip.

“There’s my good boy.” You cooed, pressing a kiss to his plump, glossy lips. He whimpered into the kiss, all needy and insatiable.

“First, I need to make sure you’re good and prepped for me,” You said, reaching up to untie his restraints so his arms were free. The second his hands were free, his hands went straight to touching you. He grazed your hips, your stomach, and your thighs. Anywhere he could get his hands on before you stopped him.

“Nuh-uh. Hands to yourself, you know the rules.” You reprimand him with a gentle swat to his pawing hands, before getting off of the bed.

“Go ahead and lie down for me.” The second those words left your lips, König scrambled to lay back on the bed, feeling the silky fabric against his skin.

You positioned yourself between his legs and patted your shoulders, directing him to hitch his toned legs over your shoulders. You loved seeing him like this, all fucked out and flushed red for you. Tongue lolling out, brows scrunched and eyes glossed over, pupils blown wide with lust. Spread out perfectly, legs open wide and hole ready to be bred.

You smiled at the sight, stroking his inner thigh so casually as if you weren’t sending tingles straight up his spine right now.

“I’m gonna start getting you stretched out, alright? How are you doing now?” You asked as you pressed a tender kiss to his calf, still staring deep into his ocean eyes. His breath hitched as you licked a stripe on his calf, before sucking a mark into his skin.

“Grün, grün,” Green, green. He breathed eagerly.

“Mmm, I’m glad.” You hummed as you uncapped the bottle of oil once more. You liberally squirted the cold liquid onto your index and middle finger. You gently traced his puckered entrance with your lubed up fingers, letting him get accustomed to the temperature.

You continued tracing his hole for a minute, pressing only the slightest bit of pressure to his entrance. Pouring more oil directly onto your sticky fingers, you teased one finger at his hole. Barely pushing in, just taking your time to get him used to the pressure.

“Fuck,” He gasped.

You used your other hand to wrap around the base of his cock and begin pumping slowly up and down. You watched as his foreskin covered the head of his cock with every upwards stroke.

After gently working him open with just one finger for a few minutes, and pumping his cock with a steady rhythm, you eased a second finger into his entrance. Slowly, sinfully slowly.

He let out a low moan as you thumbed at the slit of his tip, while also wiggling your two fingers the slightest bit.

You spat on his length, pulling a cry from his lips as you watched your saliva drip from the head of his cock down to the base.

You spread the mixture of spit and precum down the shaft of his dick, pumping him faster now.

As you were pumping him, you were scissoring your two fingers inside of him in tandem. Curling and twisting in search of the soft, spongey spot that would make him scream.

When you curled your fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion, it made his breath hitch.

“Yeah, there it is.” You crooned, beginning to piston your fingers at that spot over and over again until his moans strung together to form a scream of pleasure.

One hand pumped and the other fingered until his eyes rolled back and his tongue stuck out, mouth open in a silent scream. He hit his third orgasm of the night, shooting ropes of white cum to his lower abdomen.

“Oh my god!” He shouted as you stroked him and curled your fingers into him, helping him ride out his high.

Once he stopped cumming, you let go of his cock and gently pulled your fingers out of his sopping hole with a ‘pop,’ making him whine at the emptiness.

That emptiness wouldn’t last long, as it turned out, because a few moments later you were already thrusting that flaming orange dildo into his thoroughly prepped entrance.

“Oh, fuck,” He moaned, hands fisting the satin sheets between his fingers. His head was thrown back against the pillow in pleasure, auburn hair strewn across the silk pillowcase.

“Oh, you like that?” You egged him on. You loved asking him questions when you knew full well he couldn’t answer even if he wanted to. He could try, of course, but he would just end up blabbering incoherently.

“Uh-huh! Y’ know I do, pl—,” His pleading was cut off by you thrusting the fake cock at a cruel angle, one that had his eyes widening and hips bouncing down on it.

You kept hitting that new spot as you pistoned the dildo into him, pulling whines and cries from his mouth.

You used your other hand to stroke his soaked cock again, knowing that he only needed a bit more stimulation before he was at his fourth orgasm. With that, you leaned down and put your warm mouth right on the head of his cock with no preamble.

“Oh, fuck!” He shouted as you suckled on his head, hollowing out your cheeks like you were sucking on a lollipop. While you sucked him, you flicked your tongue over his slit.

“You’re gonna make me—,” He cried out before he was cut off by his own quick orgasm. You moaned over the head, sending vibrations through his cock and making his moans even more high pitched.

You drank all of the cum that spurted from his cock, swallowing around him to milk every last drop. Gently and slowly, you pulled the orange cock out of his hole.

When you pulled off of his cock, you looked up at him through your lashes to see him panting, lips red and glossy from drool.

“Do you still want the other toy?” You asked, concerned that he might pass out soon from exhaustion. Your thumb rubbed small circles into his calf that was still hitched over your shoulder, the delicate touch bringing him back to earth.

“Please, please. I need it. Need you to feel good too.” He begged breathily, nodding repeatedly.

“Such a sweet boy.” You cooed, reaching up to ruffle his red, mussed up hair.

You let him have a moment of reprieve as you took your time to prep the last toy. Before you strapped yourself in, you coated the double ended dildos on the strap on with oil. Though you doubted that either of you needed the extra lube, you couldn’t deny that you loved the filthy wet sounds that came with being over-lubricated.

You began strapping yourself in, inserting your end of the strap on into your sopping cunt with a gasp. You could feel his eyes burn holes into you, memorizing your expression as you took a moment to fuck yourself on the dildo. He memorized the way your eyebrows scrunched and mouth gaped open as you panted. He also memorized the way your pussy lip’s absolutely swallowed the toy, sucking it in so tight and almost not letting it go when you moved to pull it out.

After a moment, you had sunk fully on your side of the dildo before tightening the buckles on the sides of the strap on to make sure it was secure.

You positioned yourself in front of König, lowering yourself until his side of the dildo was nearing his abused hole. His knees were still hitched over your shoulders and as you pushed yourself into him, his legs were by his ears — solidifying him in a mating press.

You thrusted into him at a consistent pace, watching his every expression and savoring how his face twisted in pleasure when you hit any new angle.

With every thrust you gave him, you gave yourself at the same time, making you both moan together in harmony.

“Oh fuck! God, you’re fucking me so good!” He shouted, head thrown back.

“Who is? Huh?” You pressed on as you pistoned into him, leaning in so your lace bra brushed his chest.

You wanted to hear it. You wanted to hear who was making him feel so good. Who was fucking him so good, as he’d put it. You needed to hear it.

Grabbing his jaw, you pulled his face close to yours and forced him to look at you.

“Who’s fucking you so good?” You mocked, grinding your hips into him in search of that spot that made him come undone so many times that night.

You pushed his knees against his chest, finding an amazing new, deeper angle to fuck him, and yourself with. With his hole being spread even further, you found that spongey spot even easier.

“You, only you! Oh, fuck—,” He screeched as you abused that soft bundle of nerves, thrusting against it over and over. You were approaching your own high because with every thrust towards him, your own dildo was fucking you without abandon. You wanted him to come right along with you so you reached down to jerk him off at the same time, rapidly pumping his cock.

“Fuck!” Both of you screamed in unison as you you both came, eyes rolled back and mouths hung open in silent screams. You thrusted into him to carry both of you through orgasm as you pulsed around your toy and he squirted more ropes of cum from his length.

(….)

The following day in the mess hall, you walked over to your table without a single shred of doubt or insecurity. Head held high and smug grin on your lips as your eyes cut to the recruit, who now couldn’t stay any further from König if she tried.

Speaking of König, he was currently waiting in the lunch line with his tray in hand, waiting for a scoop of food to be placed on it. He had a slight limp and you noticed how he winced when he took a step.

You couldn’t help it, that only made you even more smug. The fact that he was sore from last nights tryst made pride bloom in your chest, a secret reminder of what the two of you shared.

You set your tray down next to Ghost, who was gossiping talking to Soap and Gaz, just like yesterday. They all nodded to you when you sat down before taking a bite of their food.

Soap was trying to have a conversation with Gaz about training some new privates but he kept noticing the smirk you wore.

“What’s got you so smug?” He asked with a lilt to his tone.

“Yeah, yesterday you were fuming about that new girl. What’s up with that?” Gaz hummed.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that. It’s all taken care of.” You replied, sipping your apple juice casually, as if you weren’t remembering how König came apart from you at least five times last night.

“Oh, I know that look. What did you do to her?” Ghost muttered, though he had to admit, his curiosity was piqued.

“Oh, to her? Nothing. Nothing at all.” You assured.

“Not to.. Oh, I see!” Soap chuckled.

“I did always wonder who wore the pants in your relationship..” Ghost trailed off.

You only laughed.

“Why do you think I can walk right now and he can’t?”

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission. you can use this work as a scriptfill for gonewildaudios as long as you credit me and link me.

[rainylana]

“Do it for me.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: reader’s past struggles come back to haunt her.

warnings: reader has an eating disorder, talk of anorexia and weight gain/loss, throwing up food, angst, tears galore, panic attack, depression, language. requested by @eu1a i hope i did this justice to what you wanted as of how serious the topic was. thank you for requesting and enjoy reading:)

“Fuck,” You sobbed, hands gripping the toilet as you sat on your knees, rocking back and forth through cries. You sniffled and snotted, choking on cries that echoed through the bathroom, an absolute mess. It was shocking how one little comment send you into hysterics. You thought you’d gotten so much better.

All it took was one comment from your sister about your weight to ruin your whole day, to send you into the bathroom. You tried not to stick your fingers down your throat, but you were so upset you thought you’d throw up anyways.

You’d always struggled with anorexia ever since you were in middle school, but you’d been doing good ever since you’d gotten together with Eddie. He was good for you, kept you positive. He knew about your past struggles, but you knew he had a hard time understanding it. You didn’t blame him, you didn’t understand it all either.

You’d never had a healthy relationship with food, but being with Eddie healed you. He taught you to love yourself, be kind to the body that you were given. Even if you didn’t want to be, you faked it till you made it. Being with him had helped you get to a healthy weight, put on the pounds you needed to keep your immune system up and healthy.

Your dinner was sitting uncomfortably inside your belly, so you stuck your fingers down your throat and threw up your food, gagging as you did so. It didn’t make you feel better, though, and you sobbed as you drooled all over your hand, eyes watering and chest burning as you vomited your stomach contents.

One comment sent you into a spiral, and you didn’t know how bad it was going to be.

•

You were exhausted, and the loud boom of cafeteria chatter didn’t help the pounding headache that you were trying to fight off. Eddie was to your left, arguing with Gareth and Dustin about something regarding to their newest campaign. You’d tried to focus on what they were talking about, but you hadn’t been sleeping very good. Everything seemed foggy, cloudy, hard to see through and felt as if you were underwater.

Your stomach rumbled for something to eat, but you denied it almost every time, making you look pale and sickly. It had been a week since your sister’s comment, and it had been a week of straight hell. Your body was undergoing your own torture, and you were certainly paying the price for it. You felt so guilty, going behind Eddie’s back and doing everything you could to keep him from finding out that you were sick again. He never saw you like it before, not really, only having heard your stories. You didn’t want him to see you week. You were afraid he’d find you disgusting.

“Angel?” Eddie’s voice echoed in your ear, becoming clearer when he grabbed your left hand. “You with us, baby?”

“Angel,”

“Baby,”

Dustin and Mike cackled like chickens as they made fun of their dungeon master. Eddie rolled his eyes, giving them the bird. “Sorry,” He chuckled, laying an arm over your shoulder. “You good? You seem quiet.”

You smiled as best as you could. “Yeah- just..just tired. I stayed up all night studying for our science exam.”

Eddie bopped your nose. “That’s my good girl. Keeping up with those grades, huh? Well, maybe you should ditch the rest of the day and head home for a nap, yeah? Might do you some good.” He kept eye contact with his big brown eyes, making you fall harder in love with him. Made you feel more guilty.

You couldn’t describe your feelings. You knew you weren’t overweight by any means. You were healthy and were you needed to be. You hadn’t even been insecure about your belly that wasn’t as smooth as it had used to be, or the extra meat on your thighs. You worried about eating, what the food would do to you if you got out of control. What would happen if you weren’t pretty anymore? What would happen between you and Eddie?

You didn’t see yourself as ugly, but you feared food would make you hideous. The solution? Simply not eat.

“Yeah, maybe.” You nodded, looking down to your lap.

“Not eating anything?” He noticed your empty space on the table.

“Not hungry.” You shrugged your shoulders.

“You’ve not ate much this week.” He acknowledged, giving you an odd look. “You’re not coming down with something, are you?”

“No, no,” You shook your head. “Just been really tired. Not had much of an appetite.”

He frowned and scooted his bag of pretzels towards you, pointing so you could eat before he turned back to his friends, giving you a kiss on the cheek as he did so.

It took you five minutes before you could eat one.

•

Your gagging sounds filled the bathroom dreadfully, hunched over the toilet as you heaved out everything you had consumed that day, which hadn’t been much. You cried like a baby, guilt eating you alive. You didn’t know what to do. You knew you couldn’t go down this path again. You’d gotten so bad last time. You needed to talk to Eddie. You knew you had to.

The idea terrified you. He’d be disgusted of what you were doing wouldn’t he? He didn’t judge you before, but that was before.

You sobbed as you flushed the toilet and stood on shaking legs, walking to your bedroom to look in your mirror. You lifted up your shirt with trembling hands. You couldn’t even see your reflection from how hard you were sobbing, your heart broken and body wracking with guilt.

Before you knew it, you were calling Eddie.

His tapping on the window came as a relief and terror all at the same time. You pushed open your curtains to reveal his terrified face, and he jumped in as quickly as he could. “Baby, are you okay?” He grabbed your shoulders. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

You’d regretted it, though, now. It had given you a chance to calm down, his drive over there, and you were suddenly wishing you hadn’t called him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” You waved your hands, not looking at him. “I’m okay, now, I was just upset.”

“About what?” He pressed, warm palms on gone shoulders. “What had you so upset, darlin’?”

“Nothing, I’m okay.” You dismissed halfheartedly.

“Baby,” He said firmly. “Tell me what happened! Are you hurt?”

“No, Eddie, I’m fine!” You snapped harshly, making him jump. “I’m fucking fine!”

You obviously weren’t, because your tears had come just as quickly back again, and you covered your face with your hands as you sobbed behind them.

“Y/n,” He tried to reach out to you but you jerked away. “Please, you’re scaring me, what happened?”

“I can’t tell you!” You wailed, making him recoil slightly. “You’ll be so mad at me!”

“Sweetheart,” He softly and carefully wrapped his hands around your shoulders. “Calm down,”

Your breathing got out of control, and you pushed him away to put your hands on your knees. “I can’t,” You choked, gagging on your own breath. “I’m so-”

“Breathe,” He tried not to panic along with you, holding your torso as he brought you to the bed. “Breathe, honey,” He brushed your hair out of your face. “Shh, it’s alright. I’ve got you.”

You sobbed like a lost child, snot dripping down your nose as you hiccuped and choked. “Shh,” He soothed you. “Shh, I’m right here. Don’t rush, just breathe for me, alright? Need you to calm down.”

The panic attack drifted away after a few minutes, the terror washing away with an overwhelming amount of relief that made you sigh dramatically as you looked up to the ceiling. “Oh, god,”

He pushed your hair away from your sweaty face, adjusting your shirt that was falling off your shoulder. “Are you alright?”

You nodded heavily. “Thirsty.” You panted, getting up to shakily walk to your dresser for your water battle. He stood, watching you carefully to make sure you didn’t fall over.

You swallows your drink roughly, throwing down the bottle when you were done. “Oh, fuck, Eddie I’m so sorry.” You said exhaustedly.

“Y/n, honey, it’s okay.” He frowned, coming up to you. “But you’ve gotta talk to me, okay? I’m freaking out here. What happened that got you so upset? Did someone hurt you?”

“No,” You whined. “Stop asking me!”

“Y/n,”

“Eddie,”

“Fine!” He snapped. “Fine, what the fuck ever then!” He growled, stomping with heavy boots over to the beat. “Forget I fuckin’ asked.”

You gritted your teeth and crossed your arms, the familiar guilt swarming over you like buzzing bees. You carefully set down beside him, fidgeting with your fingers. Your eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry.” Your voice cracked.

“I’m just…I’m afraid of what you’ll say. I don’t want you to be angry with me.”

Eddie looked over at you with saddened eyes, reaching out to grab your trembling hand. “Sweetheart, I promise I’m not going to loose it, okay? I just want you to talk to me.”

He watched you sit in silence, big tears rolling down your cheeks as your lip quivered. He wanted to pull you into his arms, but he knew you needed your space.

“I’ve been throwing up my food again.” You let out a whimper, face burning with shame. “It’s just been a couple weeks.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Throwing up…your food? As in when..”

“Yeah, like before.” You rushed, finishing for him. “I know it’s disgusting and I should stop. That’s why I’m telling you.”

Eddie looked to the floor, trying his hardest to figure out what to say. He should’ve seen the signs, should’ve realized you hadn’t been acting right, because you hadn’t, and all the pieces were finally connecting together:

“Two weeks?” He looked back up at you. “What happened?”

“My sister.” You sniffled. “She said that I was getting fat. Well, no, she didn’t say that. She said I was putting on weight, but you- well, you get it.” You stumbled, bringing up a nail to bite.

“Who, lizzie or Micah?” He said quickly.

“Lizzie.”

“That little brat.” He gritted his teeth. “I outta-”

“That’s my sister, Eddie.” You finally looked at him.

“I don’t care who it is.” He stood up, pacing. “Nobody should ever talk that way to anyone. That’s just messed up.”

“It’s not her fault.” You defended. “She’s right. Don’t be mad at her, Eddie.”

Eddie gave you a look. “Are you serious? You’re not gonna sit there and justify what she said to you, especially with…with your health.” He was flustered and red, pacing a whole in the floor as he walked from one end of the room to the other.

“Are you okay?” You asked him, causing him to stop.

“Am I- no, no, baby, are you okay?” He came down to his knees in front of you. “I mean- you know that I don’t know anything about this, so you just gotta be honest with me. I mean..well, are you alright? Don’t you..should you eat something?” He was rambling and he knew it, terrified of saying the wrong thing.

“I’m not hungry.” You blushed.

“How long has it been since you ate?” He regretted the word choice as soon as he said it, especially the way your face turned beat red, but he had to ask.

“This morning.” You answered.

“And did..did you, uh- throw it up?” He said carefully, looking up with big, brown eyes.

You were beginning to feel very small, not able to keep your eyes on him. You started to cry again. You held your belly and sniffled, his hands on your knees.

“Baby, it’s okay,” He tried to sooth you. “I’m not mad. I’m glad you told me. I’m just trying to understand.”

“Yeah.” You said hoarsely. “I’ve not been able to keep anything down.”

“Okay,” He said gently. “Thank you for telling me. Have you been doing anything else?”

“No,” You shook your head. “Just that. I’m scared I’m going to get bad again, it’s just so hard to stop.”

“What’s it feel like?” He tried. “Is it..like addiction? Are you addicted to it or is it something else?”

His slender fingers came up to wipe your tears, soothing your aching anxiety. “I-I..I,”

“Slow,” He stopped you. “Shh, calm down, slow, slow,” He guided you through your breathing.

“I’m too big.” You blubbered, coiling over and grabbing his arms. “I’m too- too, uh, big!”

“No, you’re not, y/n.” He shook his head, holding your shoulders. “You’re healthy. You’re exactly where you need to be.”

“But, what happens when I’m not!” You cried. “You’ll leave me!”

“What?” His eyes crinkled in surprise. “Honey, what, no. No matter what you look like I’m staying. No matter what.” He lifted up to hold your face.

“Sweetheart, you’re healthy and where you need to be.” He squeezed you. “It doesn’t matter if you loose weight or gain it, none of it matters to me, do you understand? All I want is for you to be happy and healthy. I want you to be the healthiest version of yourself that you can be.”

“I can’t do it,” You leaned your forehead against his. “I’m too stupid. I hate myself.”

“Do it for me.” He kissed your nose. “Please, just try to love yourself. Be kind to your body. I will help you in anyway that I can, you’ve just gotta be honest with me.”

You cried and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck. He didn’t realize how fast his heart was racing until he felt it vibrate against your own. He took a deep, shaking breath, allowing his own eyes to water.

[esamastation]

Shizuroth, part eleven.

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

-

Well, at least Sephiroth knows better than to run around the Shinra building in a t-shirt and pyjama pants - which, while no doubt amusing, would've caused far too much chaos to be worth it.

While Angeal is putting away the remains of Sephiroth's fast food, Genesis gives the man himself an assessing eye.

The shirt he'd picked up, dark green turtleneck, works well enough with the usual coat. The outfit would need some more matching accents to really work - there's too much black and grey, they overpower the slight splash of colour - but at least it doesn't clash with anything. However… It's obvious there's simply not enough space in the sleeves of Sephiroth's coat for a full-sleeved shirt.

The leather creaks in agony when Sephiroth moves his arm, and his bicep bulges accordingly.

"Couldn't find a new coat, then?" Genesis asks, resting a hand at his hip.

Sephiroth tugs at his cuffs unhappily and bows his head, saying nothing. That's a no then.

Well. As weird as it is that memory loss gave Sephiroth the kick he needed to exercise some self-care, Genesis isn't about to look a gift chocobo in the talons. "I'll mail you the details of the shop where I got mine. They don't do mail order, everything is bespoke, but well worth the effort."

"Mn. My thanks," Sephiroth says, considers his gloves, and pushes them into a pocket. He then picks up his sword, and holds it by its sheath at his side. "Shall we?"

"You know Lazard isn't going to be happy about this," Angeall comments idly, putting the trash in the garbage. "I'm pretty sure he banned us from using the training room, permanently."

"What he doesn't know can't come to bite us in the ass," Genesis says dismissively. "And besides, we're supposed to be evaluating Sephiroth! Surely we must be thorough about it."

Angeal shakes his head, amused, and looks at Sephiroth, now fully dressed, with a shirt. He looks relieved. "Let's go."

They head out, Sephiroth trailing after them and clearly trying to cover up the fact that he has no idea where they're going.

"Floors 49 to 51 are dedicated to the SOLDIER program," Genesis says, once they're safely in the elevator. "49 is training and equipment, 50 has a gym and gear storage, and 51 is SOLDIER offices - Lazard office is up there too. We're heading to 49, where the training room is."

Catching his meaning, Angeal adds, "Floor 49 also has a briefing room, it's where we acquire most of our missions."

Sephiroth looks at them sideways through his bangs silently for a moment before nodding ever so slightly. "I see."

He really doesn't remember any of it? Damn. "You don't usually hang around on the SOLDIER floors, outside receiving missions," Genesis says, looking at Angeal and arching his brows. "You're not usually around much."

"Mn."

"I think you go to the Record's sometimes in your down time," Abgeal offers, clearing his throat and arching his brows to Genesis. "Floor 58. It houses the Shinra public archives."

"Well, public," Genesis says, shrugging. "You need a keycard to access it and a high enough security level to actually take anything out, and of course none of the really classified files are accessible. And their drama section is abysmal."

Sephiroth hums, looking between them suspiciously. "A library, then?"

"If you want to call it that. Midgar Public Library has better variety - and a little less propaganda - but I imagine you've never been," Genesis sniffs and looks at him.

"Ah," Sephiroth says, wary.

"You'd be swarmed there," Genesis clarifies. "By the grateful and adoring public."

Sephiroth shifts his weight at that and says nothing, looking uncomfortable.

Angeal hides how troubled he is well as he faces Sephiroth, but Genesis can hear it in his voice. "The cafeteria, by the way, is on floor 61," he says. "It's not usually too bad, and people tend to leave members from other departments alone."

"Or you can pay the cafeteria staff under the table to deliver," Genesis muses and looks up as the elevator comes to a stall. "Right, I'll go see that the coast is clear. Angeal -"

"We'll just wait here," Angeal says, knowing, and looks at Sephiroth - who is very much not ready to be jumped on by an excited baby SOLDIER asking for pointers.

"Then off I go, to face the beasts," Genesis says and sets forth.

It's a well-practised routine at this point, to subtly chase away any wayward SOLDIER Second Class members from the training room. Mostly it just involves him walking in and making his presence known - Seconds tend to know to make way.

Thirds are trickier, because they're often too new to know better - but SOLDIER Third Classes don't have access to the training room anyway.

"Genesis, sir," a Second Class he's sometimes trained with, Kunsel, sidles up to him. "It's it true? About Sephiroth?"

Well, at least he knows to keep his voice down. "Is what true about Sephiroth?" Genesis asks, narrowing his eyes.

"I heard he was hanging around in Injections," Kunsel says carefully and adds, "In The Restroom?"

It really took them only a day, huh.

"Sephiroth? In The Restroom? Really," Genesis says as though excited and leans in. "When? Did someone see him?"

"Um, yesterday?" the Second Class says, also leaning in a little. "It was one of the Third Classes."

"... Oh," Genesis answers, affecting disappointment. "I see. Well, I'm pretty sure Sephiroth was at home yesterday."

"... Really?"

"Saw him myself," Genesis assures him with a shake of his head and rests a hand at his hip. "You said it was a Third Class who spotted him? Well. I wouldn't want to call them a liar, but… they were probably coming out of the procedure themselves. And you know how it is with Mako injections."

Kunsel hums in thought, looking a little troubled. "I do, sir," he says and shakes his head. "It did seem a bit weird."

"You should talk to the Third," Genesis says. "They're probably really convinced they saw something, and maybe they did - but it still wouldn't do to spread stories like that. That's only good for ruining someone's reputation."

"No sir, you're right. I'll talk to him," the Second Class says seriously and nods. "I'll take care of it."

"Good man - maybe take them out on some easy mission, get their mind off it," and get them out of the building for a bit. "It's not their fault. Mako plays tricks on us all."

With Kunsel and hopefully the rumours thus fended off, the coast to the training room is clear. Genesis heads to the elevators, where Angeal is casually poking at the floor button 

"Showtime," Genesis says and looks at Sephiroth. "Time to see if you're still worthy of being a Hero."

Sephiroth clenches his hand around Masamune's sheath and gives him a weird look. "A hero?" he asks incredulously. "Me?"

… Oh. That's…

"Don't worry," Angeal says quickly, clapping Sephiroth on the shoulder. "We'll help you remember." But he looks worried too.

"Or else, take your place," Genesis says, but the taunt lacks its usual sting as he shares a look with Angeal.

This… might be even worse than they thought.

-

Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss; Genesis.

[pumpkinbxtch]

*slides into your requests*

Hi hello I'm here to feed my Frank love 💕

I looooove how you write him because he can be so sweet and loving and MWAH

But do you think you can write a fic where it's Reader (doesn't matter the gender to me 😊) where they have the worst time trying to flirt with him so they end up flirting with him via baked goods and stuff? Just the whole "I can't voice my love without being an idiot so here's a plate of spaghetti 🍝" 👀

food is better than pickup lines ✧⁠*⁠。

— frank zhang x fem!reader

summary: you wanted to flirt with frank, The situation is that it turns out that you are not that good at it, so you think of a different way to make him understand your feelings.

warnings: none, maybe language.

a/n: omg, you guuuys *runs and rings a bell* a frank request and it's super cute and amazin ideaaa, livin the dream frfr. thank you for your sweet words and for share me this dream of yours. i hope you like it ): — kisses from mars (tee-hee), maría 🩵

You were determined, you'd make Frank understand that you were terribly in love with him… well, something like that. Actually, you were already doing it, but it wasn't until that moment that you realized you had replaced pickup lines with baked goods. Why?

Man, flirting wasn't your thing. But the terrible part was that you didn't know you were actually so bad at it. You realized it once you had already said such embarrassing, terrible things that there was no doubt you had killed one or several seduction fairies somewhere on the planet.

— Is someone waiting for you, Frank…? — you hinted that time. He looked up from his paperwork and when you saw how his eyebrows slowly came together, you knew you had done it again.

Behind him, Piper covered her mouth and stifled a laugh. Was there anything crueler than a daughter of Aphrodite laughing at your seduction maneuvers?

— Someone waiting for me? — he asked, leaning slightly over the bar that separated them. Frank thought maybe he hadn't heard you right.

Your hands continued working on his tea, but internally you were kicking yourself. To cover it up, you let out a laugh.

— Yeah…— He looked at you closely, scanning, pondering all the possibilities of that comment. Apparently reaching a conclusion, his lips curved into a smile.

— Sometimes I don't know when you're joking.— He reached out to pat your head and ruffled your hair gently. That time, you blessed Frank's innocence and swore you'd never use phrases-to-seduce-your-crush.com again.

Gods, what about that time when Piper tried to help you by pushing you towards him? You said something about him being too tall, and in an attempt to turn it into an opportunity to say something cute, you ended up calling him Giraffrank. GI-RA-FFRANK. You wished you could steal that memory and bury it in the deepest recesses of Tartarus.

No, you simply couldn't go on with that, or you'd end up confessing to him in an even more embarrassing way (if that was possible).

In your despair, you grabbed some ingredients from the cafeteria and let your woes turn into nothing less than strawberry-filled mochis. You lifted them to appreciate their fluffiness and felt a touch on your shoulder. You almost forgotten Piper was there.

—That? — She looked at the tray and raised her eyebrows playfully. — Can I try?

— Sure, take them — you said listlessly, sliding the tray across the marble table to your friend. Piper ignored it upon noticing your bad mood and hugged you.

— Frank is really hard to catch, girl. He's so… clueless. — Your friend pressed her lips together and stroked your hair. At least you had her.

— You're not going to tell me it's my lack of skills in saying charming things?— Piper looked away, trying to avoid answering, and you shrugged.

Her consolation to you was interrupted by the doorbell. Both of you looked up. It was late.

— We're closing!— Piper shouted, approaching the counter while you stood at the back. Seeing her stop abruptly and shoot you a sparkling glance, you moved closer. As soon as you saw the purple shirt, you wanted to bury yourself in the pile of dishes you had to wash, but before you could do it, Frank smiled at the sight of you.

— Ladies...— The guy bowed. Despite his apparent diplomacy, your friend had a playful smile adorning his face. — I was passing by and saw the lights on. It's about time you were at the camp, and I remind you that you're only working here for your spring break, so I can't allow you to be out longer than permitted.

— Well, it's our good Frank playing preator — Piper joked while giving you a look. You forced a smile and nodded.

— While you're here, you're my responsibility. Camp Half-Blood would never forgive us if anything happened to you.

— Believe me, Frank, they don't care as long as we come back in one piece — Piper said disdainfully. She cleaned the nearest table and offered the Roman a seat, which he accepted with an excuse.

— Is something wrong? —The guy asked, giving you a concerned look.

Unconsciously, you had stayed behind the counter in complete silence. Piper gestured to you, but you were so afraid of messing things up that you didn't want to even speak. You just shook your head and forced another fake smile.

Piper made a gesture of annoyance without Frank noticing and signaled to you again, which you still didn't understand. She realized she had to act, or you would never get anywhere.

— In fact, she's tired of making the new cafeteria dessert, right? — You frowned, not understanding Piper's movement. This time, she pointed at the mochis, and you widened your eyes.

— Yeaaah, and I don't think you want to try them. It's the first time I've made them, and I don't want to poison you.

— Oh, come on, we know you're good at this! — Your friend insisted, making faces and signals for you to seize that opportunity.

— That's true — Frank said, giving you a radiant and confident smile.

Without much enthusiasm, you went to put a few on a plate and left them in front of him. Immediately, the guy examined them with surprise.

— Mochis?

Your cheeks burned. Stupid Chinese dessert.

Frank widened his smile and eagerly took one into his mouth. The sound of enjoyment he made churned your stomach nervously. Apparently, you did something good that day.

Frank's eyes locked onto yours with a sparkle, and he smiled at you again in that way only he knew and the same one that kept you awake at night. — Delicious!

“am I so in love with him?” you wondered, and with just that word, you regained your humor and motivation. Your mind thought that would be the best way to express your feelings to Frank. You walked to the counter where the others were and packed them in a bakery box with the cafeteria logo. When you returned, you gave it to him.

— For me? — He said, amazed, with a curious look.

— Yes, for you.

And you knew it was the best way to express it. "Show, don't tell," you thought.

Despite being happy with your approach, Piper lamented in the depths of the kitchen as she washed the dishes. She should have tried one of those desserts before speaking.

And that's how things went. Maybe for you, it was almost like a vacation, but Frank had to keep being a praetor, training, and attending to his responsibilities, which consumed most of his days, so you provided him with some food. From that day on, you never stopped cooking for him.

— Frank! — Seeing him covered in sweat with a spear in hand, you felt nervous, but you approached him anyway, handing him the dish.

—Spaghetti. I know you guys have your own magical kitchen, but...

You nervously smiled as he took it as something precious, and the corners of his lips lifted. Your breath seemed to catch as you admired how impressive his beauty was to you, the breadth of his shoulders and the strength he seemed to possess. It seemed counterproductive how someone with his appearance was actually such a kind, gentle, and adorable person.

— You don't have to bother — his velvety voice snapped you out of the trance. Still, he held the dish against his chest and smiled sweetly.—Thanks, do you mind if...? — A whistle interrupted him, and his expression seemed to harden, he was annoyed. Without wanting to interrupt his duties, you gestured for him to go, and he walked away from you because he had no other choice. At that moment, Frank hated being a praetor, but you felt relieved not to have to talk to him, taking risks.

The following days were like the ABCs of love... with dishes.

L - for Lasagna

O - for an Omelet

V - for Vegetable Soup

E - for Enchiladas

Each one adapted to lactose intolerance. Sometimes in the middle of the process, you felt your cheeks burning, the embarrassment overwhelming, almost stupid, but you really wanted to let Frank know that you cared about him, and it seemed like you did. It better be that way.

Piper entered through the back door, and after sniffing the aroma of tomato pasta, she groaned.

— Damn it, Frank! — She exclaimed as she put on an apron. —I'll help, but he gets the best part

You laughed as you cleaned the counter and headed to the microwave, where you took out a plate already served. You approached your friend and handed it to her. —Thanks, Pipes.

She accepted your thanks with a mouthful and praised your culinary skills.

— Frank... has he said anything to you? — Piper asked once she swallowed the bite, noticing that strange tone, you glanced at her sideways.

—About what? — Anxiety rushed through your thoughts, and you turned quickly. — He doesn't like the food? Have I already annoyed him? Gods, I knew I looked weird doing it.

Piper shook her head and took a sip of water.

— None of that. I'm just asking... — That strange look again. You noticed her eyes changed from amber to green.

—No — you murmured, running your hand along the edge of the counter, feeling a certain heaviness in your stomach as you noticed the direction the conversation was heading. You didn't want to hear it, so you changed your gaze to Piper for a more upbeat one. — But it's okay like this. It's better if things are at ease, maybe after all, we shouldn't be anything more than friends.

Piper wanted to smack you on the head, she couldn't believe how blind you were. Nevertheless, she knew she had to let things work out on their own. The brunette approached you and caressed your cheek tenderly.

—Go give this to Frank before I snatch it and devour it all.

You let out a chuckle, releasing the tension that had built up in your body.

— Stay away from my macaroni — you scolded, and grabbed the dish. At the door frame, Piper called out to you, you looked at her as she stood on tiptoe and raised her fist encouragingly.

— He's going to love it! — She shouted, and you left the cafeteria in search of Frank.

As you approached the camp area, your steps quickened along with your pulse. Every time you saw him, it felt like walking on a tightrope with lions waiting below to catch you with their sharp teeth. Being with Frank was an explosion of emotions that were held back from being too obvious, the only demonstration of those was the stupid pasta you held.

You scanned your eyes for the boy, while also wanting to close them and pretend you hadn't found him, then Piper could devour the food. Now that you thought about it, in that circumstance, everyone would win. But as soon as you turned towards the Field of Mars, you saw him, and before you could run away, he noticed you too.

You mocked yourself.

Your legs began to weaken, but it wasn't a problem because Frank was already heading towards you with that charming smile that melted you like honey. You remembered a pickup line that would have been very good if only you weren't so bad with words.

—Uber Eats? — He teased mockingly. This time, he was in armor and his cape. "What a damned gem," you thought.

— I think you know it — you tried to respond in the same tone, but a stutter escaped your lips. The faster you delivered it, the better.

Frank's face changed completely, clearly noticing something in your attitude that afternoon. You extended the food, and he received it, momentarily touching your hands. The sensation made you shiver, but you controlled that feeling.

— Good luck, I'll see you later.

He grabbed your shoulder before you could turn away. His brown eyes remained open, filled with motivation.

— You give me this, but you never stay.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to understand both the words and the change in attitude. Frank let go of you and cleared his throat.

— What I mean is that I always end up with something you've cooked for me — he reaffirmed his grip on the dish and looked at it carefully before returning his eyes to yours, his mind trying to choose the right words, hoping not to ruin everything.— But I never get to share it with you. If we could, it would make me happy.

His cheeks turned pink, and you wanted to rub your eyes to make sure of what you were experiencing, but as soon as you considered the possibility, a wave of insecurity washed over your chest.

— I have to... go back to the cafeteria — you took a step back, and he grabbed your arm again. Frank was tired of letting you go and promised himself he wouldn't let it happen this time.

— You can't. You have a matter to discuss with the praetor.

That sentence surprised you as much as it did him.

You stayed silent for a few seconds, and the way Frank held that determined appearance made it impossible for you not to draw a smile. Although you weren't sure if it was out of nerves or because of how funny the situation seemed, maybe both.

— Oh, really? — You challenged. If he didn't let go willingly, maybe throwing him a bad flirtatious line would make him give up, although you weren't sure why you would want to waste something like that.

— Yes. Let's go or the conversation will go cold — he said, taking your hand and ignoring your desire to ruin the moment.

He dragged you to the common dining hall. At that hour it would be occupied only by the two of you.

Frank was a son of Mars. He was good at conspiring strategies against the enemy, and for some time now, he had decided that you were the enemy in this story. Approaching halfway, leaving him out of the game, now he wouldn't allow it, and finally, he could make his next move to you.

[oreoov]

☆ ─ 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒, 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 ..?

kazuha x gn!reader / fluffy fluff / modern au <3

synopsis ─ you and kazuha seem to be more than friends, but at the same time, none of you have ever confessed so .. what exactly are you guys ..?

warnings : the word "hell", lots of and lots of teasing, kissing (idk how to put warnings so im just putting anything that sounds bad to some people LMAO)

notes : HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAZUHA!! (im very late but we dont talk about that) btw u guys should read my other kazuha fic because it didn't wanna show on tags and it flopped so bad!!! 🤬🤬

you were confused, puzzled, bewildered. kazuha has hugged you, yes. hold hands? always. cuddled? yes .. kissed ..? maybe once or twice but never on the lips .. but he never confessed or confirmed anything.

or maybe close friends just do that right ..? right .......?????

thats what you were trying to figure out for the past hour in this oh, so boring math class. you were too focused you didn't even notice kazuha staring at your gaze.

"are you okay? you know, its quite strange to me that you've been focusing on class a lot more these past days .." he whispers with a faint chuckle as he continues to look at you with the soft gaze of his.

ah yes, totally focusing in class .. if only he knew what you were thinking about this entire time!

"you should focus too zuha! stop looking at me like that .." you mumbled out quitely, a soft tint of red slowly came to sight on your cheeks.

"mhm .. my bad, its kind of your fault for looking so cute though." he teases you once more before finally turning away from you, proceeding to focus onto class just like what you told him to do.

you blushed even more by the comment .. ahahah .. close friends definitely don't say stuff like that. so why hasn't he said anything about it yet? you wanted to smack kazuha in the face for leaving it so unclear! or maybe you were just blind.

the bell suddenly rang, class was dismissed. both you and kazuha headed out of class, off to the cafeteria. and of course, he interwined his soft hands with yours.

because of this simple action, many rumors about you both possibly dating has suddenly appeared day by day. and yet, even you didn't know the clear answer to that.

the thought of dating him was never a bad idea in your opinion. is he cute, adorable, and handsome? yes. is he loving and caring? yes. is he smart? yes. is he too friendly with others? maybe ... but is he boyfriend material? yes, YES, YEYSYEYSS. (mb for simping)

do you like him? yes ....

"do you want anything? i'll pay for you!" kazuha interrupted your thoughts once again as he asked you with his signature soft, gentle smile that was only reserved for you.

"uhh .. not really hungry right now, thanks for asking though!" you returned a smile to him before looking away into your surroundings again.

"wrong answer, love. ill get you your fav okay? go find a seat while i get your food." oh, what a gentleman, but .. he. called. you. "LOVE"?!?

you wanted to jump out of this world!! your face was so red and your heart is bouta explode! you swear that this is gonna be your last straw and you are going to confront him right now!!!

"u- uh .. oh uhm yeah, ill go sit over there alright? uhh ..." ahahha .. yes, totally confront him ...

you turned back, face was still red as hell as you approached the empty table you're going to sit at. you took a seat and covered your face with your hands.

you need to ask him about all this sooner or later. you couldn't bare another day like this, but what if he actually doesn't like you? and he was just doing those gestures as friends ..?

your mind kept running back and forth from the only two possibilities that there could be ; "hes only doing that as friends ..." or "he literally wants me so bad."

you sighed as you watch him approach you with your food. you thanked him for the food and started to dig in, but he wasn't eating ...

"aren't you going to eat anything ..." i looked at him with a confused and worried look. what a hypocrite smh ...

"im not hungry right now, dont worry!" he responds with his soft smile again which always manages to makes your heart melt.

"y- you ... ughh ... here, lets just share .. you damn hypocrite." you scoffed as you pushed your plate closer to the center of the table.

he chuckles at you, but he accepts the food either ways to avoid you worrying for him. he only a ate a little though .. since he knows you hate sharing your favorite food!

you both ate over with a conversation, talking with him was always so easy. somehow, there was never a time where there wasn't a topic to talk about .. another reason to date him .....

"ah- wait ... i gotta get my book at my locker after this. you wanna come?" kazuha asked as he took his last bite, and so did you.

"ohhh .. sure, actually im gonna get my book too!"

"alright then, let's go" he reached his hand out for you again as he stood up. that simple gesture was enough to make you blush again.

he brought you along the hallways, which was quite empty, as everyone was mostly at the cafeteria. maybe .. maybe this is a proper chance to ask him ..?

your hands started to get sweaty as you got more nervous just because of one simple question. and of course kazuha notices ... because thats just how he is!

"are you alright? you seem quite nervous .." he stopped walking to check up on you.

your heart instantly dropped as he asked if you were okay. this is the chance to confront him, and to get this all over with!! just 1 simple question ... you can do it!!!

"i- uhm .."

"yes? you what ?"

"kazuhawhatexactlyarewebecauseyoukeepconfusingmewithyouractionsbutyouneverconfessedanythingsoidkwhatsgoingon"

"uhh, sorry but .. could you perhaps .. speak slower?"

you sighed as you had to repeat everything you said to him again!! your heart was beating faster and faster by every second, it was about to explode ...

"w- what i asked was .. what exactly are we ..? you keep confusing me with your actions since you know .. im pretty sure friends dont act like this, right?" you looked down as you were in a blushing mess. he was even still holding your hand oh so gently.

he chuckles softly, he didn't even blink. it was as if he was already expecting this question. and he was waiting for you to ask! "well, what do you think we are silly?" he chuckles again.

"i- i dont know!! thats why im asking you!! you're the one thats silly ..." you scoffed at him as you let go of his hand.

he couldn't contain his laugh as he took both of your hands again. "then ill ask a different question, what do you want us to be ..?"

uh oh ... things were not supposed to go this way and he was definitely not supposed to ask you this question!!! "u- uhm .. i- i guess more than .. friend's ..?"

"oh, come on dear, im not accepting that as an answer. you should be more specific to avoid anymore confusion! tell me, do you want us to be friends, or lovers?" he smirked, he was enjoying teasing you a little too much ...

"y- you ..!! i- i want us to be .. lovers. alright? i said it so stop teasing me now, this is so embarrassing!!" you were surely gonna die from embarrassment, and it was all because of kazuha ...

he chuckles at you, he couldn't help it. "alright, alright ill stop, im sorryyy, i couldn't help it! you were too adorable for your own good ..."

he continues "but, im also sorry for leaving it unclear, my dear." he pats your head softly as he embraces you softly.

"s- so .. were like, dating .. i guess? uhm .." surely it felt awkward for you, but you were also relieved! atleast now you know that he feels the same.

he laughs in amusement because of your constant confusion "yes, yes we are my love. you know what? how about i give you a proper kiss incase you're still confused? do i have your permission to do that ..?"

"f- fine .."

(insert kissing scene cuz idk how to write one LMAO)

[sweetestofchaos]

➵ Parings: Teacher!Jungkook x OC!Netta ➵ Genre/Trope: Fluff, Smut, Friends to Lovers, Co-Worker AU, Teacher AU ➵ Rating: 18+ ➵ Summary: The new English teacher has a big fat crush on the PE teacher Jeon Jungkook and everyone know about it...including Jungkook, himself. ➵ Word Count: 6.1k ➵ Warnings: Kissing, Thigh Riding, Ass Smacking, Food Play, Oral (fem receiving), Fingering, Mentions of Periods

𝘮.𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 ▵ 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 ▵ 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

a/n: 10 months later and I’m finished!! I have to thank @dawnagustd​ and @vvh0adie for helping me ease into the smut from when I first started writing this bad boy. I was starting at the screen for hours just looking dumb. Thank you @hobeemin​ for being my beta, your comments made me giggle!! Banner made by the wonderful @floralkive. MDNI/Support divider made by @benkeibear​​​

It was a known fact that Little Flower Academy was one of the few elementary schools that didn’t have a dating ban for its employees. The headmaster wasn’t stupid; he knew that if you worked around people for days at a time, crushes and even love were bound to happen. Netta was the kind of woman who never mixed business with pleasure, but when Jeon Jungkook came into her world, that idea was washed away like the chalk lines at recess. Netta had a huge crush on Mr. Jeon, the cute Health and PE teacher. She wasn’t sure what it was about the man that made her heart pound so harshly. With just a single glance or if he smiled, Netta swore there were yellow jackets in her stomach, or maybe it was just pizza sticks she ate from the cafeteria. 

The first time Jungkook spoke to Netta, she couldn’t stop staring at the mole on the bridge of his nose; it was cute. She was so lost just staring at it that she completely missed the question that had been asked. It wasn’t until Jungkook laughed and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck that Netta snapped out of whatever trance she had been in. She apologized for zoning out, and Jungkook shook his head, his dark hair flying around his ears before he repeated his question. He wanted to know how she liked the school, and if she had any issues, she was more than welcome to come to him. Issues? There was only one that Netta could think of, and it was standing in front of her.

The two quickly became the topic around the water cooler of the academy. Teachers and parents alike all whispered about how good they looked together, the dream team they were called to their faces, and behind their backs, they were the perfect couple. Netta heard the rumors and wasn’t sure if Jungkook had too. If he had, he never let on about it. Jungkook was kind and very funny in the weirdest of ways. He was a giant nerd, to be honest, and Netta was thankful that she could see that side of him as his friend. That’s how she ended up here, now. All alone in Jungkook’s home, helping him grade papers while eating Thai take away on a Friday night.

Jungkook has his bluetooth speaker playing music at a lower volume, sitting on the couch with papers spread out all around him. Netta is sitting on top of a pillow on the floor with her legs folded underneath her, twirling a set of red chopsticks between her fingers. She glances at Jungkook when he sighs and pushes his hair from his face for the nth time that night. Jeez, can he look any hotter? A familiar beat catches Netta’s ear, and she bites her lip as Jamie Fox’s voice fills the air. 

You know what, I'm ma make it do what it do baby,

I'm ma make it do what it do baby

Netta drops her chopsticks, and they fall to the floor, making Jungkook look away from the papers in front of him. “You good?”

“Huh?” Netta stares at Jungkook and tries to ignore the sexual words spilling from the speakers. Does Jungkook not hear what’s playing? “Y-yeah, I’m good. Just…yeah.” Netta turns her attention to the papers in front of her and squints at the black text. What does this even mean? It’s like she’s reading a different language all of a sudden.

“How many papers have you gone through?” Jungkook’s voice cuts through Netta’s foggy mind, and she can feel heat warm her face. Honestly? She hasn’t graded much; it’s kind of hard to focus when Jungkook’s scent is all around her; plus, the oversized smokey green denim shirt isn’t doing anything for her well being either. How can he wear something so simple and look so hot? It’s not even fair at this point in life. “Net?” Jungkook tilts his head to the side, and Netta quickly pulls herself together, ducking her head down as she bites her lower lip.

“I didn’t get much done.” Netta sees the frown pulling at Jungkook’s lips and swallows. “S-sorry Kookie.” Her voice is soft as she spots the chopsticks on the floor by her leg. “I-I need new chopsticks!” Netta jumps to her feet, and Jungkook’s jaw clenches.

“Sit down, Ms. Robbins!”

One second, Netta is standing, and the next, she is sitting on the edge of the love seat, the fallen chopsticks clutched tightly in her fist, staring at Jungkook with wide eyes. Jungkook sighs and takes his reading glasses off, setting them on the table before he sits up and runs his hand through his hair…five times, not that Netta is counting or anything. Jungkook tucks his hair behind his ears and inhales with a smack of his lips. He stares at the unmarked papers on the table before he turns his gaze to Netta, who refuses to meet his eyes.

Jungkook’s lips press into a line as his eyes flicker up to the ceiling, licking his lips as he tries to gather his thoughts together. He sniffles once and runs a hand through his hair once again, his bangs falling right back in place, framing his face. Netta risks a glance Jungkook’s way, and her breath catches in her throat as their eyes meet. Jungkook raises an eyebrow and presses his tongue against his cheek while Netta looks away. 

“Netta?” Jungkook calls her name softly, speaking just above a whisper as if anything louder would spook her.

“Y-yes?” Netta squeaks out, and she clears her throat. “Yes?” 

Those rumors about Netta having a crush on him may be true after all. Keeping that thought in mind, Jungkook nods his head and sighs. Jungkook smiles, his lip ring catching the light and forcing Netta to focus on his lips. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“Huh? Tell you…what?” Netta fiddles with the bracelet on her wrist and starts to bounce her left leg as she tries to figure out Jungkook’s question.

He cracks a sly smile, “The rumors are true, huh?” He swipes through his hair once more, shaking his locks before he sits back in his chair. Netta has no thoughts, his arms are folded, and his legs spread. Her mind is empty as she stares at Jungkook’s massive thighs. Were they always so thick and inviting? Netta’s thighs press together subconsciously, and she shifts in her seat. Seeing her movement, Jungkook strikes. He uncrosses his arms and holds his hand out to Netta. “Come here, Netta.” Jungkook’s voice is magnetic, pulling Netta from her seat to stand between his legs.

Jungkook tilts his head back to get a better look at Netta’s face, “What’s going through that pretty head of yours, Ms. Robbins?” Jungkook slowly raises his arm and places a hand on Netta’s waist, keeping his eyes locked on her face. He doesn’t want to miss any signs of discomfort. “Humm?” Jungkook’s thumb slips under the hem of Netta’s shirt, and he forces himself not to look away from her face even though he wants to see the goosebumps that he feels on her bare skin. Wrapping his other hand around Netta’s wrist, Jungkook pulls her closer, and reaches out, her arms caging Jungkook on either side of the couch as she stops herself from falling on top of him.

“J-Jungkook!” Netta gasps, and Jungkook’s smile is wicked as he gazes at her.

“I’m not reading the room wrong, am I?” Jungkook questions as the rest of his hand slips underneath Netta’s shirt.

Netta opens her mouth, and no sound comes out. She bites her lip and closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of Jungkook’s warm palm pressed against her side so softly. His hands are large, so very large, and his fingertips are calloused. Netta lets herself wonder how they would feel against more of her skin. Swallowing around the lump in her throat, Netta gathers whatever resolve she has and lowers herself onto Jungkook’s lap, her knees on either side of his left thigh.

Jungkook mutters something under his breath, and before Netta can question him, Jungkook cups the back of Netta’s neck and pulls her into a feverish kiss. Their lips mold together, their tongues taste each other, and Netta’s full weight falls into Jungkook’s lap, her legs refusing to support her any longer. Jungkook groans into the kiss, feeling the pleasurable weight settle sweetly on his upper thigh. The heat from between Netta’s legs seeps into the fabric of his jeans, and Jungkook squeezes Netta’s hip tightly. His lungs burn, but he fights the urge to breathe; he doesn’t want to part from such sweet lips. Jungkook never knew that peanut pad thai was so delicious.

Netta slides her hands from the back of the couch and tangles her fingers into Jungkook’s hair. The strands are silky soft, and when she accidentally tugs, Jungkook moans into her mouth. Netta pulls away from the kiss, a thin strand of saliva connects their lips, and she pushes at Jungkook’s chest as he chases her lips.

“W-Wait…Jungk-kook.” 

Jungkook hums and licks his lips as he inhales deeply. His heart is beating rapidly under Netta’s fingers as the rise and fall of his chest starts to slow. Jungkook’s eyes are wide and alert as he stares at Netta concerned. He cups her cheek in his hand and swipes the spit from her bottom with the pad of his thumb.

“Are you okay? D-Do you want to stop?”

“God, no!” Netta shakes her head, and Jungkook smiles, all bunny teeth and scrunched up nose. 

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook whispers as he bumps his nose against Netta’s, trying to kiss her lips again.

Netta firmly pushes at Jungkook’s chest and puts space between their bodies, “I don’t want to do this on your couch…we could ruin the paperwork.”

Jungkook glances over Netta’s shoulder at the piles of ungraded tests and the rainbow of markers scattered on the table and floor. Jungkook’s tongue darts out to play with his lip ring as he thinks over Netta’s words. His hands slowly trail to Netta’s buttocks, and his fingers tap out a random beat that matches the current song playing from the speakers.

“My bedroom is a mess,” Jungkook pouts, and Netta giggles as she plays with the necklace hanging at Jungkook’s throat.

“Jungkook, we work with a bunch of children. I doubt your room is any worse than theirs.”

Jungkook narrows his eyes and gives Netta’s butt a firm slap, making her yelp and jump in surprise.

“I don’t think I like your tone, Ms. Robbins.” Jungkook leans forward and nips at Netta’s jaw before he licks up the length of her neck to her ear. “Are you a messy girl? Is that why you won’t mind my room? Just gonna make it messier for me, yeah?” 

Jungkook’s words go right to Netta’s core and settle so deep that she can feel her walls clench around nothing. Empty. She suddenly is so self-aware of how long it has been since she last had sex with someone. Netta bites her lower lip, and a shiver crawls down her spine as Jungkook ghosts a gentle path of kisses from her ear to the corner of her lips.

“No, no, Ms. Robbins,” Jungkook easily pulls Netta’s bottom lip from between her teeth and soothes the tender flesh with his own lips. He licks at the bitten skin and sucks Netta’s lip into his mouth, his hands pressing firmly against Netta’s butt and she moans. Her hips start to move on their own, back and forth, over the meaty length of Jungkook’s thigh. Jungkook breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against hers, “That’s it, make a mess for me. I can’t wait to clean it all up.” Jungkook’s tongue is sinful as he licks back into Netta’s mouth. He leaves no space unexplored and slides his hands around a little to sink his fingers into the sides of Netta’s upper thighs. 

Jungkook pulls Netta down more onto his thigh, and he flexes, giving her something harder to grind against. A broken moan slips past Netta’s lips, and Jungkook swallows it whole, devours every sound that continues to spill from such sweet lips. Everything feels too hot; Netta’s nerve endings are on fire, and the coil in her stomach is wound too tight. Her panties are wet, embarrassingly so. So wet that Netta knows she has soaked through the fabric of her yellow jeans. She wonders if she has soaked Jungkook’s jeans as well. The blood rushing behind her ears becomes louder than her thoughts; all she can do is feel. 

There is a damp patch of skin that Jungkook keeps nipping and licking at; it’s right below her ear, and it’s driving her wild. Jungkook’s body is warm, firm, and strong under her hands. She wants to touch more than just his hands and face. Netta pants, her head lolls backward, and her eyes screwed shut as a warm wave of pleasure washes over her body. She whines, and Jungkook curses under his breath; he can feel the pulse from between Netta’s legs. He can see the wet mark she had made on his jeans and wants more. Jungkook grabs the back of Netta’s neck, mindful of the passion, twists in the way, and crashes their lips together.

“In my room, on my bed, now!” Jungkook pushes Netta away from him, and she scrambles to her feet, her legs wobbly and weak from her first orgasm of the night. “Second door on the left,” Jungkook informs Netta as he stares down at the wet patch on his thigh. He can see that Netta hasn’t moved, and he picks his head up with a raised eyebrow. 

“What-” Netta wraps her arms around herself and shifts her weight from foot to foot. 

Jungkook slowly stands from the couch and cups Netta’s face once more. He runs his thumb over the seam of her lips and tugs the bottom lightly, “What’s holding you back? We can stop if you would like.”

Netta looks down at her sock clad feet, and Jungkook gently grabs her chin between his thumb and index finger before he tilts Netta’s face upward.

“What is going through that mind of yours?”

Netta’s eyes well with tears, and her lower lip starts to quiver. Jungkook’s eyes widen, and he pulls Netta into a tight embrace as he wraps his arms around her.

“Hey, hey! It’s okay.” Jungkook smushes his cheek to the top of Netta’s head and rubs her back. “We don’t have to do anything; you don’t want to do Netta. We can even pretend that it never happened!”

“I-I’m s-sorry,” Netta cries into Jungkook’s shirt and shakes his head.

“What are you - no! You have nothing, and I mean nothing, to apologize for, Netta. Do you hear me?” Jungkook pulls away and bends a little at the knee to get a better look at Netta’s face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you-”

“No! I-I liked it…I-I wanted it.” Netta fists Jungkook’s shirt in her hands, and Jungkook just stares. Why is Netta crying if he didn’t read the room wrong? “We work together, Jungkook.”

“Yes…is that a problem?” 

Netta pulls away from Jungkook and wipes at her face, embarrassed to be seen crying like this after she just ruined his jeans. 

“I can’t sleep with you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook licks his lips, and his tongue goes right to his lip ring, “Because we work together?” Jungkook questions slowly and carefully as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Netta nods her head and links her fingers together as she speaks, “I just don’t want to make it awkward at work or anything…you know?”

Jungkook inhales and nods his head. Yeah. Okay. He can understand where Netta is coming from. Their work place was full of gossip, and he can understand why that would be off putting.

“I understand, Netta. I guess I misread the room, huh?” 

Netta shakes her head, and Jungkook frowns, “I really do like you, Jungkook,” Netta admits, and her face heats up. “I just can’t do a one night stand with a coworker.”

Jungkook repeats Netta’s words, “A one night stand?” Netta looks up and sees the amusement in Jungkook’s eyes. “I don’t think I was clear with my intentions, but that’s my own fault for doing things out of order.”

“What?” 

Jungkook pulls his hands from his pockets and grabs Netta’s hands gently between his. “I would like to date you, Ms. Robbins.”

Netta stares at Jungkook, face lost and adorable, making Jungkook giggle as he bops her nose with his finger.

“May I do that, Netta? Can I take you out? On a real date, officially?”

“Officially?” Netta parrots, and Jungkook motions towards the take away boxes. Netta quirks an eyebrow, and Jungkook’s ears heat up. “This was a date?”

“I-I had more planned!” Jungkook defends, and Netta laughs with a shake of her head.

“An official date would be lovely, Mr. Jeon.”

Jungkook’s whole face lights up, and he surges forward, capturing Netta’s lips with his own. The kiss is light and sweet, a clear way to show his true feelings. Netta rests her hands on Jungkook’s chest, and he nibbles at her lower lip, making Netta whine against his mouth.

“I have a spare bedroom…you can spend the night.” Jungkook whispers, and Netta sighs softly. “It has a lock that I don’t have the key to if that makes you feel better.”

Netta giggles and pecks Jungkook’s lips three times before she pulls away, “What would I sleep in?”

“I’m sure we could find something.”

“And if we don’t?” 

Jungkook grins and snakes his arms around Netta’s waist, his hand resting low on the small of her back. “The sheets are really soft, perfect to sleep nude.”

Things at work are interesting. Netta and Jungkook are seen carpooling to work often, and they sit next to each other in the break room with their lunches. The Art teacher, Taehyung, is sure that the two of them are dating, while Seokjin, the Headmaster, is certain that they are in the beginning stages of a relationship. He likes to point out that Jungkook is more reserved around Netta; he isn’t touching her or making slick comments. He is very respectful, and Netta is the one that usually touches his hand. Hoseok, the Math teacher, doesn’t really care. He’s just happy that Jungkook has finally stopped talking his ear off about the new English teacher. 

Netta sits with Jimin, who teaches Social Studies, and Yoongi, the Science teacher. Everyone, students, teachers, and parents are  gathered outside for the teachers versus students kickball game. Namjoon, another PE teacher, is the referee for the match, and Netta giggles along with Jimin as all the moms drool over him. The teams are mixed with different grades from kindergarten to fifth, and the teachers were well rounded. Jungkook, Namjoon, and a handful of other teachers are together on a team and wear matching white mesh tops over their blue t-shirts. The kids wear yellow mesh tops over their shirts, and the school provided them with new cleats so that no one gets injured while playing.

Taehyung and Seokjin are the announcers for the game, and they are dressed for the part, both wearing black slacks with button up shirts and colorful ties. Taehyung has a yellow beret to match the children, and Seokjin, a white one to stand with the teachers. As the last of the parents and staff fill the bleachers, Seokjin announces the teams and Netta smiles. This is going to be a great game. Plus, Jungkook is looking right in those black sweatpants.

“You’re drooling,” Jimin teases as he nudges Netta with his elbow, and Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“Leave her alone, Min. You know she’s down bad for Jeon.”

“S-Shut up!” Netta whines as she clicks her tongue and pulls the hair band from her wrist. Keeping her eyes on the game, Netta pulls her twists into a low ponytail and folds her hand in her lap. “I’m watching everyone.”

“Sure you are,” Jimin giggles and links his arm with Netta’s. “So, when is loverboy taking you out on a date?” 

“I never said anything-”

“I overheard Jungkook asking Namjoon.”

Netta rolls her eyes and sighs, “We’re supposed to go out later tonight.”

“Where’s he taking you?” 

“Why do you want to know?” Yoongi cuts in, and Jimin glares at him from the other side of Netta. “Their love life has nothing to do with any of us. Leave ‘em alone.”

Netta laughs as Jimin pouts, and Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Thank you, Yoongi. But honestly, it’s not that big of a deal. I don’t know where we are going. Jungkook said he wanted to keep it a surprise.”

“How romantic!” Jimin gushes, and Netta turns her attention to Jungkook, who is now standing at the plate to kick.

“I guess it is…”

The students beat the teachers nine to five, and as their reward, Seokjin was going to host an ice cream party for everyone next Friday during the last class.

“Bye, Mr. Jeon!” A few students shout from their parent’s cars as they drive past, and Jungkook beeps his horn as he starts his engine. Right away, he puts the air on and sighs the moment the cool air hits his hot skin. He’s still sweating from running outside, and his heartbeat is slowly returning to normal. Jungkook pulls the sun visor down and looks at himself in the mirror; his hair is a mess, his face is sweaty, and his eyes are alive and bright. He wipes at his face and pushes his hair back quickly before he flips the sun visor back up and leans back in his seat. 

He is waiting for Netta to come out so that he can drop her off at her place. They have their first official date tonight, and Jungkook is determined to have a great time for Netta. Everything is planned out, and now all Jungkook has to do is get himself ready. A few minutes pass before Netta comes out of the school with her friend Jimin by her side. The two are talking about something that Jungkook can’t even begin to imagine, and he unlocks the doors for her. 

Jimin is ever the gentleman and opens the passenger door for Netta and shields her head as she lowers herself into the seat. Leaning against the door frame, Jimin looks at Jungkook and narrows his eyes.

“You better treat my bestie right, Jeon. I will kick your tall, muscular ass if you fuck this up!”

Jungkook huffs a laugh and nods his head, “Goodbye, Jimin.”

Jimin kisses Netta’s cheek and slams the door shut before heading to his car. Jungkook waits for Netta to buckle herself in and pulls out of his parking space. 

“You did really well today. I thought your team was going to win.”

“What kind of teachers would we be if we swept the floor with a bunch of little kids?” 

Netta laughs and nods her head in agreement. She is sure that the children would have been heartbroken if they had lost, especially with the promise of an ice cream party as the prize. 

“Well, I still think you kicked ass out there.”

“Yeah? We still lost the game…my ego is bruised.”

“Your poor ego.”

“Kiss it and make it better?” 

Netta glances over at Jungkook, and he smiles innocently.

“You’re a dork.” 

“I’m your dork,” Jungkook says with a wink before he turns his attention back to the road.

Date night is beyond anything that Netta was able to imagine. She was under the impression that Jungkook was going to take her out to eat, and that was it, classy and simple. How wrong she was. Jungkook took Netta to an aquarium. The aquarium was something that Netta recalled telling him about over a late night phone call when Jungkook asked what was something she missed from her hometown. They explored the whole place, swam with the dolphins, pet the stingrays, and cuddled some otters and Jungkook won a large penguin plushie from a raffle that he entered. For dinner, Jungkook had placed an order for pickup at one of his favorite small family restaurants, and they ate their meal under the stars on a large blanket in the park.

It was a perfect date, and Jungkook suggested that they end the night with ice cream, to which Netta agreed. Ice cream sounded wonderful, and that’s how she ended up back at Jungkook’s home, once again sitting in his living room. They sit on the same couch and share a tub of ice cream between them, along with a few other treats, while One Piece plays on the tv.

“Nami is always hitting them,” Jungkook pouts, and Netta laughs.

“If they would act right, they wouldn’t get hit.”

“They are pirates! There is no acting right,” Jungkook argues, and Netta licks the spoon in her hand.

“Pirates or not pirates, they shouldn’t scream at each other all the time.”

“It’s entertaini-” 

“Shit! C-Cold!”

Jungkook’s brain freezes, and he stops talking mid-sentence as he watches the melted ice cream from Netta’s spoon drip onto her bare leg, her thigh that is exposed since she chose to wear a dress tonight. Netta drops her spoon into the tub of ice cream and quickly wipes her thigh with her middle finger, collecting the melted ice cream. She brings her finger to her mouth and licks the melted treat from her finger.

“Sorry, you were saying?” 

She turns her eyes back to Jungkook, and he is staring at her hard. Netta tilts her head, unsure why he looks so pained, and she follows his gaze to the smeared ice cream on her thigh.

“Jungkook?” Netta calls his name gently, and he doesn’t budge, so she unbends her leg and kicks out her foot. The tips of her toes graze Jungkook’s outer thigh, and he jumps from the sudden pressure against his leg. His large eyes find Netta’s, and she smiles while biting her lower lip. “See something you like?”

Jungkook’s eyes drop back to her thighs, and he grabs her ankle now that her foot is resting on his lap. The spoon in Jungkook’s hand slaps against the side of Netta’s calf, and she jumps from the coldness. 

“Sorry…” Jungkook’s voice is breathy as he slowly lifts Netta’s leg upward towards his face, “Let me get that for you.” His tongue peaks out of his mouth, and her breath catches in her throat as the warm wetness of his tongue sends goosebumps up her body. Jungkook’s tongue slides up, up, up. The splat of ice cream long gone as he moves higher, stopping at the side of Netta’s knee before he places a wet kiss on the skin. He lets her leg fall to his shoulder, the other still tucked under her butt, giving Jungkook a great view of the black and green panties underneath the dress.

“Not sure what I enjoy more-” Jungkook places the ice cream on the table and drops his spoon into the tub. “the ice cream or you.”

Netta releases the breath in her lungs as Jungkook devours her with his eyes and untucks her other leg from underneath her butt. “I don’t think you tasted me properly, Mr. Jeon.”

Jungkook’s eyes darken, and he quickly grabs her legs and throws them around his waist, “You might just be right, Ms. Robbins.” Jungkook lifts them both from the couch and supports Netta’s body by holding her ass in his hands. “Should we test our hypothesis?”

Netta fights the smile on her face, “Did we come up with one?”

“I hypothesize that you taste better than anything I’ve eaten today.”

“Just today?”

Jungkook smirks and clicks his tongue, “Let’s find out.”

Making his way through the apartment, Jungkook heads to his bedroom and toes open the door of his bedroom, thankful that he never fully closes it when he leaves. He steps inside and plops Netta down on the bed so that her legs hang off and drops to the floor on his knees. Jungkook places his hands on her knees and trails them up over her thighs, the fabric of her nude colored dress catching against his hands and bunching as he travels farther up. Jungkook licks and sucks at the exposed flesh of Netta’s thighs; her skin is salty and smells like cookie dough. Jungkook groans against her inner thigh and sinks his teeth into the soft skin. Netta whines, and her back arches as her hands tangle in Jungkook’s fluffy locks.

“Shhh, relax for me…I just want a taste.” Jungkook’s voice is gone, airy and light, as his hands tuck into the waistband of Netta’s panties, and he tugs them down. Netta removes her hands from Jungkook’s hair before she lifts her legs slightly and bends her right leg to make it easier for Jungkook to remove them. He just lets the panties hang from around her left ankle. The dress that Netta is wearing is now bunched completely up her waist, her lower half exposed to the cool air in Jungkook’s room, and she shivers when his warm breath glides over the wetness that is slowly leaking from her core.

“One taste...please, Ms. Robbins?”

Netta nods her head, and Jungkook stares at her with wide eyes, his lips parted slightly as his tongue plays with his lip ring. “Y-Yes…go ahead, Jungkook.” Netta’s heart pounds in her chest as Jungkook lowers his head, not once breaking eye contact. The warmth of his breath makes her shiver, and in that moment, Jungkook trails his tongue from her perineum and licks upwards to her sensitive nub, dipping the tip into her dripping slit teasingly. 

“O-Oh!” 

Spurred on by the soft pants of ‘ah, ah!’ and ‘s-shit’, Jungkook slurps up everything Netta offers. Like a peach, her juices coat his mouth and chin as he wraps his lips around the puffy bud between her legs. Netta’s back arches, and Jungkook moans against her, grinning as her thighs squish his head like a vice. His dark eyes are sparkling in delight as Netta threads her fingers through his silky locks and pushes his head down. Not waiting to leave his baby wanting for more, Jungkook manages to get his right hand between Netta’s legs and slips his middle finger inside of her dripping cunt.

“Oh, f-fuck!”

The stretch is very slight, not much, but the pressure is enough to make Netta’s legs quiver. Jungkook presses a messy kiss to her pussy and nips at the tender flesh of her inner thigh, “That’s it, baby. So fucking wet…mmm-” Jungkook hums as he licks his lips. “Best pussy I’ve ever eaten.” Jungkook’s voice is liquid gold, thick and warm as he presses his index finger in with his middle, and Netta’s whole body is shaking. “Close, Ms. Robbins?”

The air in Netta’s lungs is hardly there, and the words on the tip of her tongue come out as harsh pants of breath as she struggles to control herself. Jungkook’s fingers are long and thick around his knuckles. They press into her quickly, hitting that soft bundle repeatedly as he laps at every place he can taste. He can feel how her walls pulse around him, a silent beat that his body easily follows.

“Squeezing my fingers so tight…” Jungkook tries to wiggle his fingers, and Netta moans loudly.  He removes his fingers and nips at Netta’s right thigh, the flesh tender and damp with his spit. “Look at the mess you made,” Jungkook holds his hand up to show Netta the sticky clear strands of her arousal between his spread fingers and grins wickedly as Netta stares down at him through hazy, hooded lids.

“J-Jungkook!” Netta whines at the loss of his fingers and sinful mouth. She was in the throes of pleasure, at the highest peak, ready to plummet before he pulled it all away. Jungkook raises an eyebrow and nibbles at his lip ring. Shaking her head with a huff, Netta kicks at Jungkook to move from off the floor, and he crawls onto the bed. “Can you do something with that? Please?” Netta motions to Jungkook’s soiled hand, and Jungkook easily pops his fingers in his mouth with a lewd moan as he sucks her arousal from the digits. “Jungkook!” Netta squeaks in embarrassment and slaps at his chest.

He pulls his fingers from his mouth with a loud, wet pop, and Netta wishes she could hide under the covers. “Why are you acting shy now, hmm?” Jungkook wipes at his mouth and chin with the back of his wrist and pulls Netta into his arms. He nuzzles their noses together and grins. “Best pussy-”

“Shut up, Jeon!” Netta slaps her hand over his mouth, and Jungkook kisses her palm. Jungkook nips at her finger, and Netta giggles as Jungkook wipes his head back and forth playfully like a dog trying to escape its muzzle. Netta pulls her hand from his face, and Jungkook pecks her lips.

“Do you want to stop here?”

“But what about-”

“Aht, aht!” Jungkook shakes his head and grips Netta's chin lightly between his thumb and index finger. He tilts her face upwards and stares into her honey brown eyes. “I’ve gone to sleep with boners before. It’s not that big a deal. Do you want to stop here or keep going, Ms. Robbins?”

The urge to pee presses into Netta’s pelvis, and she bites her lip, “C-can I use the bathroom first?”

Jungkook laughs and kisses the tip of her nose, “Go. I’ll get everything ready here.”

Netta wiggles out of Jungkook’s arms and hurries out of his room, her panties now somewhere on his bedroom floor as she walks the rest of the way out of them. Jungkook lays in bed, his heart racing in his chest before he takes a deep breath and sits up. He runs a hand through his hair and strips out of his shirt, pants, and boxers. Not wanting to make Netta feel awkward, he reaches into his nightstand drawer and grabs a condom from the pack. He rips the foil, rolls it on over his dick, and settles under the blankets, exposing his chest.

From the floor, Jungkook’s phone rings from his pants pocket, and he groans. Glancing at the door, Jungkook chews at his piercing. It wouldn’t hurt just to check to see who is calling. Slipping out of bed, Jungkook grabs his pants from the floor and digs his phone from his pocket. He looks at the screen, and Netta’s smiling face is looking up at him. He glances at the door again before hurries out of the room and knocks on the bathroom door.

“Hey, you okay in there?” 

The sound of crying is muffled behind the door, and his phone goes off again. Netta is calling him again, so Jungkook answers. 

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying? D-Did I hurt you?” Jungkook’s voice raises with panic, and Netta sniffles a few times.

“I-I’m sorry, Jungkook. I-I wanted to do more b-but my period c-came and-” Netta bursts into tears on the other line, and Jungkook’s heart drops into his ass.

“No, no. It’s okay, Netta!” Jungkook reassures her. “D-Do you have anything with you? I’m sorry, I don’t have anything here.”

“I didn’t bring anything with me.”

“Just wait here, okay? I can ask my neighbor if she has anything for you to use so you aren’t stuck in the bathroom. I-Is that okay?”

“I’m sorry Jungkook-”

“Stop apologizing! It’s fine, Netta.” Jungkook walks away from the bathroom and heads to his room to throw his clothes back on. “Give me a few moments. Do you mind if she comes over? I can run to the store and grab whatever you need in that time.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Netta, stop. I’m dating you, and you’re dating me. That means we take care of each other, right?” Jungkook hurries to the front door and slips on a pair of shoes. “Right?” he asks again, and Netta makes sounds of agreement. “Right! So, act right, and let me take care of you.”

Netta’s laugh is watery and full of snot but it makes Jungkook’s heart race. 

“Thank you, Mr. Jeon.”

Jungkook grins and knocks on his neighbor's door, “You’re welcome, Ms. Robbins.”

[hunting4fluff]

Spider Bite

A fanfic requested by @dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss, the first out of 2 promises! Sorry for the inactivity, I recently started college and it's completely wiped the floor with me. Anyways, enjoy!

Fluff fic, 1,328 words Lee!Reader Ler!Miguel O'Hara CWs: none Finally, a day of reprieve. 

You had been working hard all week to ensure the increasing anomalies in base were kept at bay and to say it was tiring would be a gross understatement. It had been alarm after rift after alarm, the blaring practically burned into your eardrums by now. You’d be lucky if you didn’t get tinnitus. 

What does anyone do after a long, thankless week of being on call? Why, treat themself of course!

You had just entered the bustling cafeteria with countless spider-people swishing on webs and standing in lines to get their fill when you noticed a slight shift out the corner of your eye. Your spider senses weren’t tingling, but people were definitely moving out of the way which only made the shift in the air more unsettling. Whipping your head to stare at the commotion head on, you can’t help but smile at the situation. It was just Miguel.

People knew when he was in one of his bad moods- usually he would be trying to make small talk with certain groups, grab someone’s attention when he had a small comment about their work, but never really driving people away or chatting much. Today he looked absolutely foul, glaring off into the void as he grabbed a to-go box with a burger and slinking off to his office once again. It was always a good idea to leave him be when he was in one of these funks, but the look on his face stuck around long enough in your mind to make you want to check in on him.

You grabbed a to-go box for yourself and opened a portal, bouncing down onto the platform of Miguel’s ‘office’. 

“What.” He grumbled out, hearing the soft thud and careful padding of your feet as you approached him. He saved his sharper tone for people he was less fond of, for now he just sounded tired.

“You’re in a fun mood today.” You point out, the playful smile evident in your voice as you hoist yourself up to sit on an empty spot on his desk. He spared you a glance and huffed, popping a fry into his mouth. “Aren’t you off work? Why are you still here?” He was avoiding the not-quite-question, so you of course answer then ask again.

“I wanted a meal and hopefully a conversation. What’s wrong?”

Miguel looked over at you before shaking his head with a defeated smile and rolling his eyes.

“Dios mío, you’re persistent.” He snorted, eating another fry. “Nothing, I just have one of those- what are the kids calling it? ‘RBF’s?”

You rolled your eyes at that, smiling as Miguel chuckled to himself.

“Yeah something like that.” You comment. Maybe he wasn’t in as bad of a mood as you thought.

“But since you’re here,” Miguel looked back at you, placing his food down in front of him and spinning his chair to face you. “I don’t think we officially completed your onboarding.” You blinked in surprise, quirking a brow. “Miguel, I’ve been here for three months.” You reminded him slowly, staring at him as if he had just lost his mind.

“Yes, I know that, but we skipped over a few details in your ‘canon events’ folder that I didn’t notice until a few hours ago. Lyla finally got to that part of the scan. Nada.”

Right. Of course, that made sense. You nodded your head and looked at him, waiting to continue. “Won’t take long. So, do you remember what kind of spider bit you?” He started, swiping up a screen and pulling up footage of your first canon event. The video was clearly inconclusive of the spider, the origin of it being unknown and making it harder to trace back to a definitive source.  You remembered the spider crawled under your shirt and bit your side, leaving a nasty mark the first night before you had actually gotten your powers- but you had no clue what it looked like.

“I… dunno. It’s been a while and I crushed that poor guy when I was bitten.” You shook your head. 

“Where?” It was an odd sounding question coming from Miguel, but his brain had worked faster than his words when it came spilling out. “Usually spider-people are bitten on the back of their hand, smacking it off for those who crush it. I would have been visible falling off your hand, but I can’t see it anywhere.“ He explained.

“Oh! Uh, somewhere on my side, like right here…” You gestured vaguely to where you remembered the spider biting- well, you remembered which side at least. Your left one.

“Alright… not super helpful…” He mumbled in thought, only for you to yelp in protest as he grabbed your side and held some sort of tool near it.

“Hey!” 

“Hold still, I just need a quick scan.” He ordered. Still you squirmed. It tickled. Miguel shook his head and grabbed your side again, this time earning a short giggle. He stopped in his tracks and looked up at you, processing what had just happened as you stared back at him tensely. You only had about two seconds to even stare before he had sat down his tool and scooped you up into his arms with a playful grin.

“Ticklish, are we?” He teased, one hand scribbling lightly up and down your side with the edges of his nails. The movement earned only more squirming from you as well as fresh peals of giggles as you kicked and wriggled in his grasp. His fingers skittered up to your ribs, gently tweaking the bottommost one before crawling up to lightly poke just below your underarm and crawl down again and it left you howling with laughter.

“M-miguel!” You cried out, squirming harder in your ticklish frenzy and almost managing to writhe free before he shifted his arm to wrap around your waist and start tickling your side. You doubled over with laughter, kicking out in front of you and pushing at his arm all the while his other hand came up to gently scribble at the side of your neck.

“You know, normally I wouldn’t be so childish, but I’ve been needing a little pick me up this week.” Miguel teased. You bunched up your shoulders, peals of giggles pouring out of you just as his touch began to slow down. He let you rest as you slumped in his grip, residual giggles bubbling out as you caught your breath.

“I’m a little surprised you weren’t laughing this hard as that spider crawled to your side.” He pointed out, emphasizing his point by poking two fingers into your side a couple times and sending a jolt through you.

“Ehehe- quit it!” You whined at his teasing, your cheeks growing flush as you squirmed again. Miguel chuckled, shaking his head. “Ah, what? Quit this?” He began gently pinching your side up and down, pulling fresh laughter from you as you nodded your head.

“Yes- yehes! Quit thahat!” You managed to squeak out. His fingers remained pinched on your side but had stilled for the moment, but for some reason that was worse. The anticipation left you shaking and giggling, waiting for when he would start up again.

“Quit that…?” He prompted, his voice dripping with amusement as you awaited whatever fate become you.

“Please!” You spat out and Miguel relented, patting your side and finally releasing you.

“Certainly.” He snickered. You turned around and rubbed your sides, only to be greeted by Miguel’s grinning face- you can’t remember the last time he looked this happy, or even the last time he smiled. He put his hands up in faux surrender, shaking his head.

“I’m done, I swear.” He assured, and you relaxed a bit. “Let’s just finish our lunch.” He offered, sitting back down and picking up his to-go box in a gesture of good faith. Your food was still warm and it tasted delightful.