#so now I’m just sitting here constantly clicking and hoping enough clicks will get me to rise and clean my room already

[irlbop]

[luveline]

hi my lovely!! maybe bombshell!reader and spencer struggling to adjust to daily life after his prison stint? maybe he feels suffocated and an argument ensues?? i feel like it would be difficult to just get back to normal after everything that happened !! love you <33

love you!!! fem!reader

“You’ve always had terrible posture.” 

“What?” Spencer asks. 

You wrap your arms around him from behind. You’re more gentle than anyone he’s ever met, though you're teasing, whispering in his ear, “You sit forward so far you must get knots.” 

He’s immediately tense. You take little notice, your nose in his hair, your hand riding up toward his neck, which you spoil with soft touching. He tries to relax. It's all he wanted only a week ago, to have you holding him, to smell your perfume, the stick of your hand lotion or the traces of mint in your lip oil as you kiss the skin just behind his ear. But now it feels like too much. You’re never too much, not for him, and yet. 

“Ready?” you ask, bracing your hands against his chest. 

You pull him back until he hears a solid click emanating from the mid of his spine, and you laugh quite nicely in his ear. You’re his showful girl, but you’ve taken care since he came back to be careful. This is the cheekiest you’ve acted. His ears are ringing as your fingertips draw a path down his chest. This is a proper hug. His chest compresses tightly, he can’t draw breath. 

“Love you,” you say, kissing his cheek. You show no signs of detaching. “You smell really good. Maybe we can get some Indian takeout tonight and just stay all comfy and stuff…” 

He can’t answer. He wishes you’d stop touching him. It’s an unfair wish. 

“Does that sound okay?” you ask. 

He nods, hoping you’ll get off of him once you know the answer. When you stay, he shifts his shoulder and forces out a tight, “Yeah, that’s good.” 

“I love you.” 

He loves you so much it hurts to say. “I love you too.” 

“You’re not feeling okay?” you ask quietly. 

“I’m fine.” 

You climb off of him quickly. He knows he’s been too mean, worse when you say, “Okay,” in a tone like you’ve choked on something. “Uh, well, I’ll go find a menu.” 

You’re not one for filler words —it’s how he knows he’s thrown you for a loop. 

Spencer isn’t trying to be spiteful. He’s constantly overstimulated, he has been for three or months now, weeks and weeks of being in fight mode and now he’s home he doesn’t feel home, you’re here but he’s struggling to just accept that things are fine again. They don’t feel fine. 

He knows he’s lucky. He feels sick, is all. 

After a phone call he hears from the couch where you place an order for all his favourite mains and sides, you return to the living room of his apartment (of which you practically live in) and sit on the far side of the couch. Not too far to miss, but enough to betray how he’s made you feel. 

“Don’t sit so far away,” he says. 

“You’re being snippy, Spencer. Which is fine. But I don’t want to fight.” 

He holds out his hand. “Don’t sit so far away,” he repeats, preface to an apology. 

You shuffle across the couch on your knees. Spencer doesn’t want a hug, but he takes your hand and holds it to his chest where his heartbeat goes a tick too fast. Your frown softens as the bump of his pulse registers. 

“Sorry,” he says. “I don’t know what it is.” 

“That’s okay.” You’re lying at first, then not, “It’s okay, honey. I know you’re– I know this is still bad. I know I’m not being the most help I could be for you right now.” 

“It’s not like that,” he insists. 

“Well. Don’t be sorry. But please don’t say you love me if you don’t want to say it, Spence.” 

He could bite off his own tongue. “I feel like I can’t speak. I think I need to talk to Dr. Kelly tomorrow. I’m so anxious I feel like I can’t breathe.” 

He figures he owes you some honesty, but he’s wishing he kept it to himself when he sees the stricken look that lights your eyes. Your mouth turns to a line. 

Spencer grabs for your other hand. “I’m fine,” he says again. 

“Oh, sure.” You massage his fingers with your thumb on automatic. “You seem totally fine.” You lean in. “I don’t expect you to be fine, you know that? If you’re moody, that’s okay. You can be mad at me if you want, I think you deserve it. But I’m serious, don’t say you love me if you don’t mean it.” 

“I always mean it,” he says honestly. 

For a moment, you bite your lip, your eyes on his, and he worries he’s not as forgiven as he wants to be. 

“I’ll call Dr. Kelly,” you say finally, pulling your joined hands into your lap. “I want you to feel better, babe. That’s all I want.” 

He nods, lifting his chin for a kiss you give immediately. The suffocating feeling abates.

[pucksandpower]

Hey Natalia, hope you’re doing good ❤️ Please could I request enemies to lovers with Max. You’re constantly at each other’s throats in front of everyone and Christian has had enough of your shit and demands to see you in the office. But when you continue to fight, he’s like nah I don’t wanna be involved, sort your shit out together and leaves. And you end up fucking on his desk and after you’re suddenly super friendly around eachother. Thank you lovely! xxx

Whiplash

Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader

Summary: You and Max discover that there is a thin line between lust and hate

Warnings: 18+ content

You storm into Christian’s office, scowling as Max follows right behind you. He slams the door shut and you both take a seat across from Christian, refusing to even look at each other.

“I’m sure you both know why I called you in here,” Christian says sternly. “The tension between you two has gone too far. It’s affecting the team and we can’t have that.”

You scoff and cross your arms. “Why don’t you talk to him about it then? I’m not the problem here.”

Max scowls. “Oh please, don’t pretend like you’re so innocent. You’ve been nothing but hostile towards me since the start of the season.”

“Only because you did the same!” You retort. “I was nothing but nice when I first joined the team. You’re the one with the attitude problem.”

“Enough!” Christian shouts, silencing you both. “I don’t care who started it. I’m ending it. We’re in the middle of a championship fight and I need my drivers to work together, not against each other.”

You sink lower in your chair, still refusing to look at Max. The animosity radiates off of him in waves.

“Now you’re going to stay in here until you work this out,” Christian says firmly. “I don’t care if it takes all night. Fix this mess or both of your seats are on the line.”

He heads for the door and you spring up from your chair. “You can’t be serious!”

“Deadly,” Christian replies before shutting the door. You hear the lock click into place from the outside.

You jiggle the handle and pound on the door. “Let us out!”

No response.

He’s really done it, that bastard. Locked you in a room alone with your most hated rival.

You take a deep breath before turning around. Max sits there glaring at you, jaw clenched. “This is ridiculous,” he mutters.

“For once we agree on something,” you snap.

His glare hardens. “Don’t pretend you’re blameless. You’ve been nasty since you got here.”

You storm over to him. “Because you decided to hate me from day one! I tried to be nice but you were so damn hostile. What’s your problem with me anyway?”

Max stands up abruptly, getting in your face. “My problem is you waltzing in here like you own the place when I’m the number one driver.”

You shove him in the chest. “Get over yourself! I earned my spot here.”

He shoves you back. “You don’t deserve to be here.”

Your blood boils as you stare him down. God he’s infuriating. And stubborn as hell. You doubt you’ll ever get him to admit any fault in this situation.

“Well I’m not going anywhere so I guess you’ll just have to get used to it,” you snap.

Max steps even closer, eyes blazing. Your noses nearly touch from how close he stands. “Is that so?” His voice comes out low, almost husky.

A shiver runs down your spine but you keep glaring at him. “Yeah, that’s so.”

You expect him to shoot back some nasty retort. Instead his eyes flick down to your lips for just a moment before meeting your heated gaze again.

Suddenly the energy shifts between you. The anger and tension remains but it transforms into something more primal. More dangerous.

Your breaths come heavier as electricity crackles in the nonexistent space left between you. Max’s pupils are blown wide, his chest rising and falling as rapidly as your own.

“I ...” Your voice comes out hoarse. “We should ...”

But neither of you make any move to step away. Without thinking your tongue darts out to wet your dry lips. Max tracks the movement with his intense stare.

“Fuck it,” he growls before crashing his mouth onto yours.

You gasp into the kiss and he takes advantage, deepening it. His hands grasp your hips roughly as he walks you backwards until your back hits the wall.

You barely process what’s happening. One second you were at each other’s throats, the next his body is pressing urgently against yours.

A moan escapes you when his lips move to your neck. He nips at the sensitive skin there and you thread your fingers into his hair.

“This is insane,” you pant out even as you tug him closer.

“I know,” Max breathes against your neck. His hands skim up your sides, pushing up your shirt. “I hate you.”

“I hate you more.” You crash your lips together again, tasting blood when you nip at him.

Max groans into your mouth as your tongues slide together. He hitches one of your legs around his hip, grinding against you.

You break the kiss to tip your head back, moaning at the feeling. Fuck, you despise this man, but right now you need him more than anything.

His hips keep up that delicious friction as he mouths at your collarbone. “I’m still going to beat you,” he rasps out.

You smirk, nails digging into his shoulders. “In your dreams.”

Max’s eyes darken at your taunt. Without warning, he grips your thighs and lifts you onto Christian’s desk. You gasp as he pushes between your legs, his growing arousal obvious.

“Careful what you wish for,” he murmurs before crushing his mouth to yours once more.

You moan into the frenzied kiss, tongues tangling as you tug at his hair. His hands slide up your thighs, fumbling with the button of your jeans to push them down around your ankles. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him against your heated core.

Even through the layers of clothing you can feel how hard he is. You rock your hips, desperate for more friction. Max groans and moves his lips to your neck, nipping down to your collarbone.

Your head tips back as his fingers dance up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts. “God, I hate you so much,” you moan.

“I know.” His voice comes out rough, filled with lust.

Impatient, you reach for the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, tossing it aside. Your eyes rake over his muscular chest and arms. Unable to resist, you lean in and scrape your teeth over his nipple.

Max hisses in a breath, hands clenching on your hips. “Fuck ...”

You grin, laving your tongue over the sensitive nub as your fingers move to his belt buckle. With shaky hands you get it open and reach into his boxers, fingers wrapping around his thick length.

He shudders against you. “Shit, Y/N ...”

You stroke him firmly, reveling in the moans and curses falling from his lips. His own hands move under your shirt, palming your breasts through your bra.

It’s not enough. You strip off your shirt and reach back to unclasp your bra. Max wastes no time dipping his head to capture one of your nipples between his lips.

“Oh god ...” you gasp, back arching into him. His teeth and tongue work over your sensitive peaks until you’re writhing beneath him.

The sound of voices outside the door makes you both freeze. Fuck. The race weekend is still going on around you. Anyone could walk by and hear what’s happening.

You meet Max’s heated gaze. “We should stop,” you pant out half-heartedly.

His eyes blaze with defiance and lust. “No fucking way.”

Before you can react he drops to his knees, grasping your hips to pull you towards the edge of the desk.

Max tugs strongly on your lacy underwear until it gives way at the seams, baring you to him. He pauses to appreciate the view, eyes roaming hungrily over your glistening folds.

“I’m still going to beat you tomorrow,” he rasps.

You tug on his hair impatiently. “Just get on with it before we get caught.”

With a wicked grin he dives in, mouth latching onto your throbbing clit. You cry out, quickly slapping a hand over your own mouth.

You fumble with his belt, desperate to feel him. Max groans as you wrap your hand around his length.

“Fuck, just like that,” he groans against your skin, increasing the rhythm of his tongue in response. The desk rocks dangerously beneath you but neither of you slow your ministrations.

You whimper his name, pleasure building steadily under his expert touch. The fingers of one hand twist in his hair while you keep your other hand moving up and down in measured strokes as you near the edge.

“Look at me,” Max commands raggedly. You open your eyes to meet his wild gaze. The connection between you crackles.

“Max ...” you gasp as your climax crashes over you. You slap a hand over your lips, muffling your cries.

As you float back down, Max withdraws his mouth. You keen at the loss but then he’s lining himself up at your entrance. Gripping your hip tightly, he pushes inside in one smooth motion.

You cling to his shoulders, nails digging in as you adjust around him. Max trembles with restraint, giving you a moment before he starts to move.

Then he sets a relentless pace, the desk slamming against the wall with each powerful snap of his hips. You wrap your legs around him, spurring him even deeper.

Max pounds into you relentlessly, wrenching desperate moans from your lips. You’re vaguely aware of picture frames and papers tumbling to the floor around you but the chaos only adds to the thrill.

You’re close, the pressure building deep inside. With a few more well-angled thrusts you topple over the edge, coming hard around him. Your breasts bounce as your back arches sharply off the desk.

“There you go, princess,” Max rasps. He continues driving into your spasming center until his rhythm turns choppy and erratic.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Max grits out. You clench around him, greedy for his release. His hips stutter and then he spills inside you with a guttural groan. The sensation pushes you over the edge again, your vision whiting out from the intensity.

Breathing raggedly, Max collapses on top of you, pinning you to the desk. You’re both slick with sweat and utterly spent, your heart rates slowly returning to normal. You run your fingers through his damp waves soothingly.

The room is silent save for your heavy breathing. As the haze of lust clears, the ramifications of what just happened settle over you.

You just slept with your sworn rival on your team principal’s desk.

After a long moment Max pulls out of you and steps back, tucking himself away. On shaky legs you slide off the desk, stumbling slightly as you find your feet, and rush to put on your clothes.

Max grabs his shirt off the floor and shrugs back into it. His hair is mussed wildly and his lips are kiss-swollen. You’re sure you look much the same.

You and Max spring apart at the sound of the lock clicking open. Christian strides back into his office, oblivious to the disheveled state that both of his drivers are in.

“Well, have you two worked out your differences?” He looks between you expectantly.

You smooth down your rumpled shirt and attempt to tuck your wild hair back into place. Your cheeks flame as you meet Christian’s gaze.

“I think we’ve come to an ... understanding,” Max says evenly, though you notice a hint of color in his cheeks as well.

Christian surveys his office, taking in the askew trophies and books scattered across the floor. You hold your breath, certain he’s going to put two and two together.

“It seems you had a disagreement about reorganizing my office during your chat,” Christian says wryly.

You nearly choke in surprise. Does he really not realize what just transpired on his desk? You chance a glance at Max and have to suppress a hysterical giggle at the disbelief on his face.

“I apologize for the mess, we got a bit ... heated,” you say, biting your lip to keep from laughing at the double meaning.

“Yes, clearly things escalated between you two.” Christian frowns at a photo of him and Dietrich Mateschitz now lying cracked on the floor. You resist the urge to shrink under his disappointed dad stare.

“However, the important thing is you’ve worked through this animosity once and for all, correct?” He looks between you expectantly.

You and Max nod in unison. “Water under the bridge,” Max assures him. You’re impressed by how steady he manages to keep his voice even as you can see the barely contained mirth dancing in his eyes.

“Excellent. I’ll inform the team that tensions are resolved and they can stop walking on eggshells around the both of you.” Christian claps his hands together, apparently satisfied. “Now get out of here and get ready for free practice.”

You and Max don’t need telling twice. As soon as the door shuts behind you, the laughter you’ve been holding in bubbles out.

“I can’t believe he actually bought that,” Max says between chuckles.

“We literally destroyed his office and he thinks we just had a minor spat,” you giggle, shaking your head incredulously.

Your laughter trails off as the reality of what happened sinks in. You just had crazy hot sex with Max Verstappen. Where do you go from here?

Before you can overthink it, Max presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Meet me at the hotel tonight? We should continue this conversation somewhere more private,” he murmurs suggestively.

You bite your lip but find yourself nodding. As complicated and ill-advised as this may be, you can’t find it in yourself to deny your attraction to Max now that you’ve given in to it.

“It’s a date,” you whisper back.

Max grins and steals another quick kiss before you part ways to get changed.

[causenessus]

try again

part 0.2. PLANTS.

“there’s a blue light, in my best friend’s room. there’s a blue light in his eyes.” “he sits in the waiting room. each chair has its own arms. they’re nimble and plastic, and the material of the cushions is a scratchy green. they’re the type you would find in a conference room, and he can’t decide if he likes them or not. he feels too big for the small room, but he likes the song he can hear playing from a small speaker. it took him a little bit to find it, and he constantly turned his head, trying to find where he could hear it the loudest. “there’s a ship that sails by my window.” there. he sees it on the little oak ladder shelf to his right. it’s a small white circle, and he wouldn’t have thought it to be a speaker if not for the grated cover on the front and the soft music it was playing: “i think it’s sailing. miles crashing me by. crashing me by.”

content warnings: mention of a scar (nothing about where it came from, i was thinking a bicycle accident before i decided to leave it up to interpretation), mention of "promising to stay alive", it's a therapy session so it's a free for all. lmk if i missed anything

he’s not sure he’s in the right place. maybe he missed a sign on his way in that'd tell him where to go or who he was seeing, but he'd wandered down a hall and ended up in a waiting room that had felt right initially. but now he’s wondering; he’s the only one in this tiny room, and he hasn’t seen anyone pass by. it’s silent, besides the small hum of music.

then he hears two muffled voices of laughter come from the wall behind him, and the shuffle of footsteps nearing the door to his left. he’ll find out where he is soon enough, he supposes.

the door knob clicks and creaks, automatically grabbing his attention as he looks toward the source of the noise. a girl who appears to be in her late teens or early adulthood walks out first, whom he’s never seen in his life, but he recognizes the second girl that walks out.

of course he does, how could he not?

he saw her nearly if not everyday of his life when they were kids, all the way up until their first year in high school, where gradually he started to see her less and less until he never saw her. she disappeared from the school halls and the streets they used to walk down together. he knew she was still there, somewhere, but he could never find her. they’re both frozen now, staring at each other. whoever walked out before her seems to get the message and bows slightly before taking her leave.

he’s not even sure what to say. the first words that come to mind are ‘i’m sorry.’

for what? leaving her? watching her leave and not stopping her? the next thing that comes to mind is ‘what even happened between us? i missed you.’ 

of course he fucking missed her, although it feels like he's just now fully realizing it. she had been nearly as important to him as volleyball, and it had been nice to have something in his life not connected to the sport. he loved the sport, he truly did, and it was his biggest priority when he was younger, but now he was starting to feel that passion wane, as much as he hated to admit it. if he hoped to get anything out of talking about this problem with someone, it was that he’d be able to enjoy the sport again. and maybe it’d be like old times. maybe she would be the center of gravity he revolved around again, being the anchor that keeps him upright even when times got rough. 

she felt sick, seeing him again. she had been wishing to see him again for so long, and yet apparently, in reality, she wasn’t ready to see him again. her thoughts immediately went to her appearance, and how she had looked and acted, seeing off her last client. and, most importantly, why was he here? why was she seeing him here of all places?

then it clicks. atsumu's "friend."

of course.

of course he would pull something like this.

her brain immediately goes on autopilot, because she can’t stand there all day gawking at the man who hasn’t ever left her mind. not since she first met him. not since they stopped talking to each other. not even nine years later, after the night she cried alone in her bed when she finally accepted the truth that he didn't care about her, and she’d never see him again. “om– sakusa. hi. good to see you. why don’t you come in?”

she retreats back into her office, quickly setting a pillow back up on the nearby couch in a futile attempt to tidy up the room before she retreats to her own seat.

he follow her in without a word, eyes taking in the interior of her room. he likes it more than the waiting room. there’s a wide window taking up most of the wall in front of him, displaying the sight of a more rural side of osaka. it took a train ride and a bit of a walk to get here, but seeing this view, he decides maybe it was worth it. maybe more walks in open spaces was actually all he needed to feel better.

or maybe all he needed was her presence.

she sits in a chair across from the one he’s in. there’s a small glass coffee table between them with a group of small succulents centered atop it and the decoration surprises him. for as long as he's known her, she always somehow managed to kill every bunch of flowers he gave her within a few days. his grandma would buy him a small bouquet after some of his volleyball games when he was younger and he never wanted them. he'd give them to her instead because she loved plants, despite never being able to keep them alive.

but it’s obvious from the number of pots lining her windowsill that she’s changed. he wants to bring it up, but he’s not sure what she would think. he doesn’t even know what she’s thinking about now.

it’s silent between them. the tension is suffocating. he’s not looking at her, but she can’t tear her eyes away from him. she’s never thought about how she’s grown, but looking at him now, it feels strange; like there’s a younger version of herself inside of her that can still see right through the man across from her, into the kid in him. but they’ve both matured, both locked that childish wonder behind many walls in their hearts now.

she hasn’t seen him since their first year in high school. of course, she's seen his face in print and on screens, but it was much different in person. compared to the image her eyes would always remember, of a boy with brighter eyes, filled with aspiration, always looking towards the future, the edges of his lips curved ever so slightly into a confident smile whenever he had his mask off–now he just looked tired. he had the same hooded eyes as always, yet they looked duller, and perhaps there were darker bags under them. his lips were permanently pressed into a thin line, with no traces of a smile anywhere. his frame was larger from years of hard work, yet he was downplaying it with his posture, shoulders curved and head held grim and low. his hands were long, but worn and calloused, and his legs were restless, nothing like the calm and still body that she used to stand side by side with.

“so,” she breaks the silence, knowing they’ll have to talk eventually. she’s playing with her own fingers nervously, feeling like the break of silence is a crime. she's not ready to talk to him, but maybe if she remains passive and neutral towards him, he’ll act the same way back, and they won’t have to think about how much they really know about each other–that she could still tell him exactly how many moles line his arms, and he could tell her about the scar on her upper thigh. “you made an appointment with me?”

“did you know it was me? you agreed to see me even though you knew it was me?” they’re the first words he’s said to her in years and they come out words brashfully, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth before he can even process what he’s just said.

her eyes are soft, while his are sharper and bolder. the way they droop gives her a safe, welcoming appearance as if promising that she can keep a secret, that she will listen without judging, and that he'll feel better after he talks to her. but her brows furrow in hurt, and he sees the glassy look in her eyes after his words. “i didn’t know it was you. i see atsumu all the time and he asked if i’d be willing to see one of his friends and i said of course. he said 'his friend' was on the fence about therapy so we just agreed that if he–you–wanted to see me more, we could figure that out later. i had no idea who you were–and even if i knew i did, is there something wrong with that? did i do something wrong?–” she clamps her lips shut, realizing she's said too much. she lets out a quiet sigh to restart before smoothing the fabric of her pants, “i’m sorry. that’s unprofessional of me. forget i said that last part. but i mean– did he not tell you who you were seeing? he just told you to show up here?”

he doesn’t like her being professional. he misses her smile. not the one she gave to the client she saw out before she told him to follow her in; the one that she would give him when they were together and he said something she found amusing. he doesn’t like what he said to her, and he digs his nails into his palms, regretting how this meeting has turned so sour, all because of him. “no. he didn’t,” he says, and he realizes his voice is still cold. he should add something else: “but there’s nothing wrong with that. it’s good to see you.”

he means what he says, but her frown remains, and she looks at him like she doesn’t believe him. she doesn't say anything in response, instead pulling her laptop from a nearby table onto her lap. “okay. well, you came here for a reason. what’s been going on? you can start from as far back as you want. this first meeting will serve as an introduction to both of us, so that you can get a feel for how i do things and so that i can understand what you’re going through, and how i can best help you.”

she’s cutting off any chance they have to look at each other as friends anymore, and he hates that, but there’s no way out of this spot she’s cornered him into, so he does what she asks. he tells her of the day he was benched, and how it's affected him ever since, leading to thought spirals and feelings that have been building up every day, which he's been choosing to shove down instead of getting out. 

“would you consider writing down your thoughts, then? either in a notes app or with actual pen and paper, either one works. but the action serves as a way to clear your mind. you can do it whenever you’d like, whether that be when you first wake up, at the end of the day, or even in the middle of the day. the point is to write down any thoughts you have that are stressing you out, like all the things you feel that you need to get done. you write them down so that you're able to take those thoughts out of your mind and put them somewhere instead of letting them stay stuck in there forever, bothering you and weighing you down even long after you’ve forgotten what it is you’re stressing about.”

she suggests things and reiterates some of the points he makes ever so often. the way she takes a backseat in the conversation, letting him do most of the thinking and talking, makes it easy for him to pretend he hasn’t known her for years, but he doesn’t want to think of her that way. he finds himself looking around her room as she talks, taking in all the small details. maybe on the train ride home, he'll take into consideration what she's just suggested and write down what he thinks of her office. 

her place is warm and inviting, and the more he looks at it, the more he thinks that it’s so her. from the mute, natural colors of the furniture that she’s meticulously picked out, the way she’s neatly organized a stack of papers on a desk nearby, along the same wall as the window to his side looking out to a verdant landscape– he even thinks about the books he saw on the shelf outside in her waiting room. he had recognized some of those books, and yet he hadn’t pieced together why he had such a nostalgic, longing, feeling in his chest. 

it was because it was her. 

perhaps the plants are what threw him off. the plants. again with the plants. he thinks about the daisies planted outside her house, that he passed every time he visited. he remembers seeing her mother out there, using a hose to water their flowers while she sat on the porch, waiting for him. she would complain to him about the fact that her mother wouldn’t let her help with the garden work, because of her “cursed black thumb” and the way her mother scolded her, hearing her daughter complain about her while she could still hear her.

she’s giving him the chance to pretend that they’re nothing more than a therapist and a client meeting for the first time, but he wants to decline the offer. he wants to ask her about what’s going on in her life, and he thinks maybe that would help with his own struggles, too; if he could hear about what she’s been doing with her life. he thinks it would help to go out for late dinners with her again, spend nights over at each other’s places again, and to just talk to her normally again. seeing her face once more after so long, he can’t look away. being in her presence now, sitting in a room filled with her heart, he feels a weight lift from the back of his head that he hasn’t been able to get rid of for so long. maybe she’s what he’s been missing this whole time.

his roommates know him well, atsumu knows him best, but none of them compare to her. nothing compares to the memories flowing through his head, of the late nights they spent out by the fire pit in her backyard, of nights spent in each other’s rooms, laughing and sharing stories, of the time her mother pulled out a foldable, stiff, scratchy bed stand for him to sleep on at their first sleepover when her mother wasn’t yet sure of him. he had tossed and turned around restlessly on that bedstand. when she asked him what was wrong, he told her he was homesick, and she let him sleep with her in her bed. nothing compared to the conversations they had late on his bedroom floor, where she slept beside him when it had become too weird for them to sleep in the same bed. nothing compared to the promises to stay together or to stay alive. and yet he’d broken that first promise.

he was telling her now about everything that was going on in his life, every thought he was having, but he wanted to just stop and say, “you already know this, don’t you?” because they were the same thoughts that had plagued him for years. the obsessions and compulsions that bothered him at all times, the strangling feeling in his chest–she’d heard all of this before.

but that silver laptop on her lap seems to be a wall between them, preventing them from being close like they were before. she keeps typing away, nodding, flicking her eyes up to meet his ever so often, but never too long for him to be able to read anything about them.

the time goes by faster than he thinks, and an hour has passed before he knows it. he wouldn’t have noticed if they had gone on for even longer than an hour, but she cuts them short when she puts that cursed computer to the side and straightens out her legs, “well, i would be open to meeting with you more, sakusa. everything you've told me today sounds like a lot, and i think it would be beneficial for you to have some extra support while balancing such a taxing career, but it’s your decision. the way i work, the first meeting is always free since it's just a warmup. if you want to see me again, your insurance should cover the majority of the cost. i’ll write down my email for you so that you contact me if you’d like to make another appointment and then i’ll walk you out.” she gets straight to the point, standing up and finding a stray sticky note to scribble something down on before walking towards the door like she’s eager to have him out of her space.

there’s so much he wants to say:

“call me omi, like you used to.”

“i still have your number saved, can i text you instead?”

“of course i want to see you again. and not just in this setting. but as friends.”

but he knows it’s too early to say any of that. he’s stuck in his head again, pulling at the fabric at his pants before he realizes she’s waiting on him. the door is open, and she wants him to leave. “okay,” he says quietly. “thank you for listening to me. i’ll think about it and email you if i decide i want to see you again.”

inside his head, something in him feels more triumphant, like he’s won control of the situation again. it’s his decision if he wants to see her again; he decides if she sees him again.

but in his chest, something twists. he wants her to say it back, that she wants to see him again. that it was good to see him again. but of course she won’t say that. he’s the client.

he wishes she would say something. anything. just one thing that’s not “professional,” or whatever she calls it.

“sounds good. if you send an email, just include what your availability is and i’ll tell you mine,” she says, holding out the note for him to grab as he passes by her. he feels lightheaded, and he has to force himself to keep walking, ignoring the way his body automatically pulls himself towards her.

“and sakusa,” she calls out, making him lose any sense of control he had left. he never could resist her, could he? whenever she asked him to sneak out of the house or buy her something to eat. 

he freezes in his steps and looks back at her. he’s not sure what his face looks like; if his eyes are wide, mouth slightly agape, and it’s obvious that he’s hoping she’ll say what he wants her to. or maybe his face is stern and apathetic, and he’ll shun her away like he did before.

“it sounds like you’ve made it really far. you’ve made a name for yourself, and you’re working towards your dreams. that’s good. you’re doing good,” she has a small smile on her face as she stands facing him, half hiding behind her wooden door. it’s nothing like the wide smiles she would give as his ears rang with her laughter, but maybe this one was even better. it’s a smile that says “maybe we can be more. maybe be can try again."

he’s at a loss for words, still looking at her. maybe it’s stupid and embarrassing, but he really hopes his face is expressive instead of something emotionless and unreadable. 

because he takes too long to respond, and suddenly the door is shut in his face, leaving him in her tiny square waiting room, painfully aware of how alone he is.

again.

.

.

.

" the mind forgets, but the heart always remembers. "

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

sorry for any repetition!! i tried to do it three times since that's a grammar thing i think <3

slightly more light hearted next chapter! thank u for reading <3

gonna put little notes at the end of the chapter from omi, just detailing his thoughts like y/n suggested him to do <3

taglist: @eggyrocks @wyrcan @guitarstringed-scars @strawberryuri @violetesensou @kakeru-eem @glmge @heytheredemonsss @mollyrolls @bemebiu @daszy @snail-squasher @0moonii @thiisisntlovely @todorokiskitten @rory-cakes @hyenagoated @iatethemochi @yuminako @savemebrazilhinata @kismyscars @bokutoko @nobodybutnnoorr @wolffmaiden @daisy-room @softpia @lees-chaotic-brain @v3nusplanetofluv @crispchocolates @phoenix-eclipses @hhoneyhan @encrypta @rockleeisbaeeee @cr4yolaas @zombriesworld @localgaytrainwreck @moucheslove @hibernatinghamster @notverymarley @certaindreampost @akaakeis @ciderscape @lucien-luna @strawbrinkofdeath @wave2mia @samuel1004 @01trickster10 @dazqa @cosmiicdust @chemiru

[digitaldiarystuff]

Enemies (To Lovers?)

so i’m shocking myself with how many stories i upload in one day but let’s not jinx it lol

this was a request but i can’t find where, anyways hope you enjoyy💖

————

pairing: Declan Rice x Y/N

summary: you and Declan never really clicked but now that you’re locked in a room what other option is there than to talk it out

genre: slight angst maybe also slight smut

————

“Ugh I hate him” you told your friend Ariana the minute you entered the villa.

“Who?” she asked not understanding how you got involved in beef even before talking to anyone at the party.

“Who do you think?” you asked her in a duh voice.

“Dec? Girl you two seriously need to drop this petty act.” she whined fed up with you.

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t just stop this childish hate for Declan Rice, the Arsenal ‘superstar’ You have been in the same friend circle since last summer. When your friends first told you about him you were pretty optimistic actually, everyone told you what a great and genuine guy he was and you thought ‘wow we’d get along well’ but it wasn’t the case. From the moment you first met, Declan had a weird vendetta against you. He showed how much he didn’t like you from the first day you met by spilling his drink on you, granted he might’ve accidentally do it but his actions after were enough.

“Stop laughing” you snickered trying to get the red stain out of your white blouse but Declan kept on smiling.

“At least now you have some colour in your life.” he bit back and you couldn’t believe this was the guy everyone told you about. He certainly didn’t look that great to you, apart from his piercing blue eyes and charming smile that obviously didn’t work for you.

If he’d just apologized like a normal person you’d of course let it go but he didn’t, in fact he constantly made fun of how angry you were and poked fun about it. That’s why you didn’t want to be here today, at his multimillion dollar mansion celebrating his team’s newest win but all your friends, especially Ariana, told you you had to be there. They had this weird fantasy about Declan actually liking you more than you realize and trying to show it like a third grader, pulling your hair and throwing erasers at you. You found it stupid, he was a grown adult and showed how much he disliked you like he was and you returned his hatred by hating him.

“Did I hear my name?” Declan suddenly appeared behind you and put his arm around Ariana and you were thankful he didn’t try it with you.

Deep down, what upset you the most was his behavior towards everyone else. He was seemingly cute and warm with everyone else while he always made fun of you and that made you feel uneasy, what was it that made him dislike you this much? You felt left out but you’d never admit it of course.

“Y/N was just telling me how proud she is of you.” Ariana tried lightening the mood and offer peace but Declan had to ruin it by rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m so proud you make millions by kicking a ball for 90 minutes a week. That’s really noble of you.” you sarcastically said.

“Not all of us has to be chained to a cubicle 40 hours a week” he quipped back and you felt even more angry at him.

“Yeah because some of us need money to pay for real things like rent and food.”

He thankfully left you alone after that and went back to being his other persona.

“Y/N I know you don’t want to hear this but you need to stop being so hostile towards Dec. He’s really not that bad.” Ariana said.

“You’re right Ari, I don’t want to hear it.” you shut her down and grabbed yourself a drink.

You weren’t usually this cold but he had something about him that made you snap instantly. But there was no way you’d be the person to break the friend group so you were just going to have to deal with him.

It was well into the party and you felt the buzz from all the alcohol you consumed which was a lot. You needed it very much to calm your nerves and not start any more fights. You were just sitting on the sofa humming to the song in the background when one of your close friends Kayla suddenly turned to you.

“Y/N can you grab me some painkillers from the guest bathroom? My head’s killing me.” she whined.

You really didn’t want to go snooping around Declan’s home, one because you didn’t know the house quite well and two because you didn’t want him to say anything negative about you.

“Is there anyone else who could do that? I don’t know the house well enough.” you tried but she insisted everyone was either too drunk or outside so you reluctantly agreed. She even gave you the directions to the room and you went upstairs, you’d never admit it but Dec had a good taste in interior design. He didn’t have one of those all white lacking personality type of home, his space had character with some pops of colour in every room including the guest bedroom which was the size of your apartment. You cursed yourself for liking something about him and went into the en-suite connected to the guest bedroom trying to look for the painkillers Kayla described.

You were shuffling around the cabinets having a hard time because you had to steady yourself a few times a minute when you heard some footsteps and figured you took too long and she came to get them herself but as luck would have it, it was actually Declan.

“Oh, it’s you” he said with more softness than he did when you first walked in so you figured he must be intoxicated as well.

“I thought someone was trying to steal something.” he said as he walked over to you.

You didn’t stop looking around to look at him.

“I’m surprised you didn’t accuse me yet.” you scoffed.

“Oh I’m getting to it.” he laughed dryly. “What are you doing here anyway? Trying to see if I have a girlfriend?”

You couldn’t even comprehend his sentence when you heard the door shut. You immediately looked back and saw Declan lean against the en-suite door with his arm. His muscles were flexed as he turned to the bedroom door surprised it has shut down.

He made his way over to the door trying to open it only to be unsuccessful. He wiggled the door knob a few times.

“Why don’t you open it?” you asked and he looked back at you like you were stupid.

“What do you think I’m trying to do?”

“I don’t know, you look like you built those muscles for nothing.”

He tried again but in vein. The door was stuck.

“What the fuck?” he said still trying and you started laughing at your faith.

“You’d think after spending millions of pounds the doors wouldn’t be stuck.”

“Would you stop whining?” he asked clearly agitated.

“Only if you open the door.”

“Do you think I want to be stuck here with you?” he harshly asked and you felt your confidence slipping. You were always self conscious when drunk.

When you didn’t respond he turned his attention to you.

“Y/N, I-

“Why do you hate me so much?” you asked finally trying to get an answer to the question you’ve had for months.

“What?”

“Why do you hate me so much?” you repeated.

“I- I don’t hate you.” he murmured but you knew it was a lie.

“Yes you do, you love everyone else. You’re so nice with them but you’re rude to me. I know I’m not the best either but I feel bad when I see you with the others. What is it about me that you hate?” you felt the weight lifting off your chest as you spoke. Yes it was the alcohol that made you say those things but they were true.

“I think we should talk later when you’re not drunk.” he dismissed you and it only angered you more.

“I’m not drunk.”

“Yes you are, you’ve had a million cocktails.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I watch at you anytime you’re not looking!” he raised his voice startling you. In all the time you’ve known Declan he’s never even gotten mad.

“Why? So that you can use the things you see against me?”

“Do you really think that’s what I’m doing? You can’t seriously think I’m going out of my way everyday just to argue with you. I’m watching you because I like seeing you interact with people and it kills me that you’re not that kind to me. I wish you’d be like that with me but if bickering is what gets you talking to me I’m okay with that.” he finally let go of the door and went over to the bed sitting on it without looking at you.

You were in shock about all the things you just heard.

“Declan you’re being mean, you can’t play with me like that!” you shouted at him thinking this was his way of messing with you.

“Do you really think that low of me?” he finally looked up at you and you saw the sincerity in his eyes that everyone was talking about. He looked more genuine than ever. He combed a hand through his hair.

“I- I don’t know.” you murmured conflicted about the whole situation. On one hand you really didn’t think he’d stoop so low but on the other hand you couldn’t believe his admission that easily.

“Why do you act like a prick then?” you asked trying to get to the bottom of it.

“Because that’s the only way you’ll talk to me even if it’s to argue.” he admitted with his head low.

You stood in front of Declan with your hands against your hips trying to wrap your head around the situation but it was hard considering he was wearing a tight shirt hugging his body perfectly and his hair disheveled. With a sudden confidence, you walked closer to him and stood in between his legs and he immediately looked up at you with confusion. If you didn’t have any alcohol in your system you’d never be this forward but with it you could actually do something you actually want for once. You placed your hands on his shoulders as his hands went over to your hips. He was still wary of your reaction but you threw every sane thought away and pushed him onto the bed he was sitting on. He pulled you with him so now you were straddling him, both of you were shocked by your sudden boldness but he didn’t complain. In fact, he never said anything but sat up properly holding you down and started devouring your lips. You kissed back immediately with months of pent up frustration and infatuation.

“You’re so perfect.” he complimented you as his lips found your neck kissing and sucking on your skin. You felt electricity from his touch and cursed yourself for not doing this earlier.

By this time he was slowly pulling your dress straps down your arms and continued his kisses against your chest and you hastily lifted his shirt finally coming in close contact with his abs.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this.” he murmured as he rolled you over so he was on top of you.

“Then why didn’t you?” you asked.

“Because I thought you’d slap me.”

“I’d much rather if you slapped me.” you said without thinking and his eyes turned even darker if that’s possible. His movements became more rough as you gave him the permission and he peeled your dress down your legs leaving you only in your underwear. You’d normally feel vulnerable and exposed if it was any other man but given the circumstances you just felt hot because Declan told you a million times.

“You’re so beautiful.” he kept telling you as you tried reaching for his belt. He let you take it off and now you were both in your underwear.

He did everything right in that moment, making you reach your orgasm multiple times even before he entered you and made everything about making you feel good. Even if it’s the first time you’ve ever had sex with him, it felt like he knew you better than anyone and you loved the feeling.

After both of you reached your highs moaning each other’s name once more he finally pulled out and laid on the bed pulling you to him. Your head was resting on his chest as he played with your hair occasionally leaving small kisses on it.

“I hope you know I meant everything I said.” he whispered and you looked up at his beautiful eyes knowing he wasn’t lying.

“I know.”

“And I’m not letting you go now that I have a taste.” he smiled.

“Does this mean this isn’t a one time thing?” you teased with a smile on your lips.

“Oh definitely not, in fact I was thinking about having a second round right now.” he wiggled his eyebrows as you laughed and lightly smacked his chest.

“Are you guys cool now that you’ve had sex?” you heard someone yell from outside of the door startling the both of you.

“What the hell?” Dec asked with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah idiots, we locked you in there hoping you’d talk it out but this is even better.” you heard Ariana yell and your cheeks flushed knowing they must’ve heard somethings but right now you were more thankful than angry.

“Now come out we’re starving.” one of your friends said and you got out of the bed putting your clothes back on with a smile on your face.

Declan Rice wasn’t that bad after all.

[slytherheign]

LATE NIGHT VISITOR | tasm!peter parker

PAIRING: college!tasm!peter parker x nursing student!fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

SUMMARY: a late-night review session for your exams is interrupted when your past disguised as a web-slinging hero with a facial injury comes knocking on your apartment window asking you for help.

WARNINGS: cursing, injuries, trust issues, anxiety, maybe some inaccuracies because i’m not a medical expert, and A LOT of tension. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: partly based on this request sent by anon (thanks for requesting! whoever you are, i’m sorry this took so long. i hope you enjoy this). i added the backstories and the reader being a nursing student plot just to make things more interesting. peter is a college student too but he goes to a different school (i didn’t specify his course bc it’s not that important). again, this is fluff with angst. enjoy reading!

DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO BACK TO THE STATION. CLICK HERE FOR ALL THINGS LATE NIGHT VISITOR (reviews, commentary, etc. about this fic).

The repetitive clicking of a pen was all that could be heard in your room. It was late at night and you were trying to review your notes for an exam tomorrow. You glanced at the digital clock beside your pen holder, sighing as you realized midnight was approaching.

You took a sip of your coffee, hoping the caffeine would be enough to keep you awake for at least a few more hours. You still had 37 pages left to review, you couldn’t afford to fall asleep right now. When you realized that coffee wasn’t enough to keep you awake, you decided to plug in your earphones and play some music from your phone. 

For a moment you thought you heard something outside your window but you shrugged it off, assuming that it was just a branch hitting your window as the wind blew quite harshly at this time of the night. 

But then the noise continued and you had to pause the music to hear it properly. 

Knock, knock, knock.

Confused, you removed the earphones from your ears to investigate the noise. You grabbed a lamp from your bedside table as you took slow little steps to your window. From where you were, you could see someone’s silhouette against the white curtains. The knocking didn’t stop and grew louder with every second, it made you nervous. This was the kind of thing you watched happen in horror movies.

You prepared yourself for a fight as you set aside the curtains, fully expecting to see a thief or someone dangerous. To your surprise, the person was Spider-Man—the city hero you constantly observed from your window every night as he swung by building after building.

You hurriedly set down the lamp you held, immediately opening your window right after to let him in. He was breathing heavily, no doubt just fresh from an intense fight. You noticed the way he was struggling to let himself in, so you helped him get inside and led him to sit on the edge of your bed.

“Sorry to intrude,” he apologized, looking around your room. “Looks like you were busy doing something before I came.”

“Oh, I was just reviewing for an exam,” you replied, still in shock at the circumstance. “I-uh… ar-are you okay?”

“No, I actually need your help,” he said, shaking his head. He tried to straighten his back, hissing in pain as he did so. “Shit,” he mumbled.

“What happened?” you asked as you quickly went to your cabinet to grab the medical kit box you use for nursing school. You set it on the bed beside him.

“The usual. Just saving the city. They call me hero, you know,” he chuckled lightly as he saw you jokingly roll your eyes at his answer. “And yet you’re here asking for help from a citizen,” you teased.

“A pretty citizen,” he teased back.

You blushed for a moment before clearing your throat. “Uh–so where do you need my help?”

“My face. He threw his phone at me when he ran off.”

“Well, were you able to catch him?”

“With me on his tail?” he scoffed. “He never stood a chance.”

You washed your hands before sitting beside him. “You’re one lucky person, you know that?” you said, carefully putting your fingers under the edge of his mask as you prepared to take it off.

“How so?” he replied, relishing the feeling of your face close to his.

“Out of all the apartments here, you went into mine all banged up. What a coincidence because I know just how to help you.”

“Well, it’s not really a coincidence since I know you’re a nursing student and you had medical supplies. You’re also the only one I trust who can help me.”

You froze with his words, feeling a sense of fear and betrayal. You just met him, you haven’t told him those details. “How did you know I’m a nursing student?” you asked with a tone of accusation. You immediately stood up straight and removed your hand from his mask.

“Y/N, wait–”

“How did you know my name?”

“Y/N, just listen,” he had his hands up, “I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t worry. You know me, just wait–”

“What do you mean?”

“Take my mask off and you’ll see.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“Well–uh, because… I’m Spider-Man?” he shrugged and then tried to chuckle. You glared at him.

 “Look, can we please just stay calm?” he pleaded. “If I try to hurt you, which will never happen, you can hurt me back and I won’t even try to fight you.”

When you didn’t reply, he spoke again. “I still need your help with my face. Please?” 

You gave in, hesitantly sitting beside him again. “Fine. But you’re leaving once I’m done.”

“Deal.”

You turned his face, putting a finger… and another… then another… underneath his mask until it was enough for you to be able to remove it. His breathing hitched as you slowly, almost teasingly, pulled his mask up.

Halfway through, you already had an idea of who he was. You recognized those lips. Those lips were unforgettable, you had stared at them countless times when they moved as Peter Parker talked. But Peter Parker can’t be Spider-Man… right?

The more you revealed his face, the faster your heart was beating. Your hand rested on his cheek as you used your other hand to remove the mask fully, you felt him lean into your touch.

When you removed it all completely, the first thing you saw was his long curly eyelashes. His eyes were closed, but when he looked up to meet your eyes, it confirmed just about any suspicions you had about who he was. Peter Parker, your best friend that you haven’t seen for so long, the man you had buried feelings for.

“Peter,” you softly called his name.

“Hi,” he smiled. “See, you didn’t have to worry. I’ll never hurt you.”

You smiled back at him, but then you saw a cut just above his left eyebrow. It must’ve been where the phone had an impact. “You really got hurt pretty bad, huh?”

“Hmm,” he nodded. “Will you help me?” 

“I don’t know… let me think,” you teased. 

He was looking at you like a sad puppy.

“You’re lucky you’re my best friend,” you smiled. You briefly saw him look at your lips. You cleared your throat. “Umm-okay. So first, I’m gonna clean the area around the wound to prevent any infection. It might sting a little, I promise I’ll be quick.”

He watched you as you grabbed a sterile pad and a bottle of antiseptic. You held his chin to steady his face while your other hand gently cleaned the area around his wound. He closed his eyes as you did so, relishing the feeling of your hand on his face.

It didn’t hurt him, he was used to this kind of pain and injury as Spider-Man, but he still whimpered softly just so he could watch you be worried for him. You looked just like you did when you were a little girl being worried for him whenever he injured himself. 

“I’m sorry, look it’s done,” you said, taking a closer look at the cut to examine the extent of the wound. “It’s not too deep, luckily. But we still need to ensure it heals properly. I’ll apply an adhesive strip to help keep the wound closed as it heals,” you smiled, carefully placing the adhesive strip over the cut, you made sure it aligned with the wound’s edges for optimal healing. 

He was still looking at you. He could get used to this—the sight of you taking care of him. Maybe if he had you to take care of his wounds every time, he wouldn’t feel bad about having injuries. He had always admired how soft and caring you are. He used to tease you for that when you were children, but in all honesty, he only did that because he had a crush on you. Growing up, that little crush grew into something stronger. Even after you moved into an apartment away from where he lived, he still checked your social media to get updated on your life. He also visited you sometimes.

“Thank you for doing this,” he whispered. He was scared to move his face, he didn’t want you to move your hand away. You looked at his eyes, not for too long though, because you knew that if you stared for more than 3 seconds, you’d fall deep into his eyes and do something you weren’t sure he’d want you to do. “I could never say no to you,” you whispered back.

You weren’t sure why you were both whispering, it wasn’t as if you two were scared of making noises. Maybe because you were scared to break the tension that surrounded the two of you. You were so close to him, too close. You knew that it wasn’t too long until one of you had to act on it. If someone did act on it, the line between friendship and something more would be crossed and you’d risk losing each other completely if someone didn’t feel the same.

“There we go. The adhesive strip should hold the skin together. It might be a bit uncomfortable, but it will ensure a better, faster recovery.”

Peter didn’t want you to stop. He hoped this wasn’t the last step.

“Finally, we need to apply a sterile gauze pad to absorb any potential bleeding. I’ll secure it in place with some medical tape.”

The word ‘finally’ made Peter disappointed. After this, what would happen? Would the two of you just go back again to being the two best friends who were too busy with their lives that they barely saw each other? Could he really leave this apartment without having to feel your lips on his?

You gently placed a sterile gauze pad over the area, making sure it covers the cut adequately. You then carefully taped the pad down, ensuring it stayed in place. “The gauze pad will provide an extra layer of protection and help absorb any additional drainage from the wound. Make sure to keep it clean and change it regularly…” you realized this was the last step. In contrast to what you told him earlier, you didn’t want him to leave yet. “Or you could just visit me here again and I’ll clean and change it for you.”

Peter frowned as your hand left his face, he watched you gather your supplies and put them in the box. You stood up, putting the box back to where you got it before washing your hands again. You didn’t know what to do after that, so you just sat beside him again with your head down.

No one dared to speak for a moment. 

It was Peter who broke the silence. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You looked at him to see he was already looking at you. “It was my pleasure, Peter.”

“You’re not angry? Or surprised that I’m Spider-Man? I kept a huge secret from you,” he asked.

“Surprised? Yes. Angry? No,” you admitted. “I mean, we grew up. We don’t see each other often anymore. It was inevitable that there are gonna be things we don’t know about each other anymore.”

“We used to be inseparable,” Peter spoke, remembering the memories you two had before you both went to different schools for college. “What happened to us?”

“Life,” you stated sadly. “We got busy.” 

Peter smiled, a hint of pain behind it. “I’m sorry if I didn’t visit you here that much.”

You reached out to hold his hand. “No, I’m sorry. I got too busy with my course. Sometimes, I forget to reply to your texts. I was so focused on chasing my dreams, I don’t even realize that I’ve completely shut people out.”

He stroked your cheek with his hand, wiping a tear that escaped from your eye. “I missed you so much, Y/N.”

“I missed you too, Pete. So much,” you leaned into his touch. 

“What if I told you that I actually didn’t need your help? As Spider-Man, I’m used to these injuries. I’ve learned how to fix them myself.”

You looked at his eyes; he was looking down. “But you still decided to knock on my window…”

“Yes… it’s just–” he paused. “Honestly, I don’t know,” he admitted. “I see your apartment window every night, always wanting to show myself to you. But I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me, so I end up just sitting on a rooftop ledge staring at your silhouette against your curtained window. I don’t know what came over me tonight, I have no idea where I got the courage–I just know that I missed you so much. After I got wounded, I longed for your touch so I made my injury an excuse so I can see you.” 

“The fact that you had to make excuses just to see me means I’ve failed at being a best friend.” 

“Y/N, no. Don’t say that. I got busy too… and too afraid. All I had to do was knock on your window but I didn’t. The fear always got me.”

“The fear of what?” you asked through your tears.

“The fear of you not wanting to see me. The fear of you moving away again.”

“You really thought that I wouldn’t want to see you?”

“I-I don’t know, maybe? Or maybe the real fear is rejection. I’m scared of you rejecting me.”

“Peter, why would I reject you?”

He still wouldn’t look at you. You held his chin up and turned his face so you could look at him. “Tell me, why would I reject you?” you repeated your question.

“Because I don’t want us to go back to what we used to,” he finally looked at you. “I don’t want us to barely see each other again. I want to be able to see you every day if I can. I don’t want us to have a reason to ignore each other’s messages or calls again. Yes, we can be busy, but I want us to be busy together.  I don’t want us to fall apart again. I-I want us to be together… I want us to be something more.”

You didn’t know the words to reply, so instead you pulled him into a kiss. Peter’s eyes widened. He was already planning to kiss you, he didn’t expect you to beat him and do it first to him. The kiss was long and full of meaning—your lips may not be able to say the right words for an apology, but it did the job in the form of a kiss.

You both laughed the moment you pulled away but sadness and guilt washed over you again. “Sorry for shutting you out,” you apologized. He kissed you again. “Shh. Let’s just start over, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed. Your eyes caught the digital clock on your desk. It was way past midnight and you still haven’t finished reviewing for your exam which was now just hours away. You immediately straightened up. “Shit.”

“What is it?” Peter asked.

“My exams.”

Peter looked at your clock and the books on your table. He then noticed you getting anxious beside him. “Hey, look at me.”

You stayed staring at the clock before Peter stood up and blocked your view of the clock with his face. He knelt in front of where you sat on the bed. “It’s gonna be okay,” he smiled. “Let’s make it a mission, okay? Let’s do it like this… I’ll help you review and our goal is to finish it in an hour. And then after that, you can still get some sleep.”

“In an hour?”

“Yeah. I know we can do it.”

“ Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“No.”

“Then I’m serious. Come on,” he stood up, pulling you with him.

An hour, two coffees, and 37 pages later, you both found yourselves laying with your backs on the floor. “I told you we can do it,” he chuckled.

You turned your body so you could face him, he did the same so he could face you. “Thank you for helping me review, Peter,” you said quietly.

“You’re welcome. I didn’t do it for free though,” he replied jokingly.

“Oh, is that right?” you asked, smiling.

“Yup, I accept payments in the form of kisses.”

You chuckled before pulling him into another kiss. 

“I should’ve knocked on your window a long time ago,” Peter said after pulling away to catch his breath.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST: @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20 ​ @the-quiet-observer @softiepeterpan @willowhaired @sflame15-blog @pompeygirl89 @remuslupinsdocs

[wintersoldiersoul]

Filming

Summary: You convince Sebastian to make a TikTok with you

A/N: This is kinda shitty but I just thought about how cute it would be if you made a TikTok with Seb and had to write about it. The relationship in this is platonic and I was picturing that Y/N is somewhere in her early 20s.

People always assumed that working on a Marvel movie meant constant action. But truly, most of your days were filled with waiting around in your trailer for hours on end. There were so many moving parts that there were some days you would be called at 4am and have to stay until 5pm only to shoot one scene. Needless to say, you had a lot of downtime. 

It was your castmates that made it all bearable. Instead of sitting alone in your trailers, you were usually all hanging out together. Today was one of those days where you had been waiting around for hours on end to film one scene with Sebastian. You were playing Bucky’s long lost grand-niece, naturally meaning that most of your scenes were with him. 

The two of you were sitting in his trailer, anxiously awaiting for a PA to knock on the door and bring you to set. “Ugh,” you groaned, throwing your head back. 

“You okay over there?” Sebastian chuckled, looking up from his cell phone. Despite being nearly 20 years apart in age, the two of you had grown very close. You were like his little sister.

“I’m losing my mind, Seb. I’ve never been this bored in my fucking life.” 

He laughed and continued to scroll through his phone. 

“What are you even doing on there, anyways? You don’t even use social media,” you sassed. You loved to tease him about his lack of social media presence, calling him old and out of touch, even though you secretly wished you could be as brave as him and stop posting on all of yours, too.

“You know there are other things to do on here,” he held up his phone. “I’m reading an article about space. It’s really interesting.”

You rolled your eyes and groaned again. “God help me.” You opened your own phone and clicked on TikTok, hoping that the For You Page would have something entertaining enough to grab your currently short attention span. After a few minutes, you threw your phone down and sighed again. You watched Sebastian from across the room, silently getting an idea. You smiled slyly, and he looked up at you.

“Oh no,” his eyes narrowed. “You have an idea.”

“Let’s make a TikTok.” You were constantly making TikToks with the other actors and your followers loved it. But you had yet to give everyone what they really wanted. Sebastian.

“Absolutely not,” he replied.

You pouted your lip and widened your eyes. “Pleeeaseeee,” you begged. He laughed at your desperation. “It will be fun I promise. Just one.”

“Stop acting like a child,” he said playfully.

“The fans want it. They’re constantly asking where you are in my videos. People are gonna start thinking that we hate each other, you know.”

He smirked. “Oh they’re constantly asking? They wanna see me in a TikTok that badly?” His tone was playful but you knew him well enough to know that he did seriously doubt it. Despite being so successful, he would always be humble and unsure of himself and just how much his fans truly did love him. 

You snapped a selfie of the two of you and posted it in your Instagram story asking if people wanted to see you and Sebastian make a TikTok. Within seconds, thousands of people were answering “yes” to the poll and your DMs were flooded with pleading messages, begging you to get him to make one. 

“See? Now they won’t leave me alone until I do it.”

He sighed. “Fine. Only for you.” Sebastian had a soft spot for you. Even though you were so much younger than him, he really did think of you as one of his best friends. You were wise beyond your years, having grown up in the spotlight. The two of you loved each other, even just platonically. He was always looking after you, obsessively googling people that you went on dates with, always making sure that you got home safe from nights out. You reminded him a lot of himself when he was your age in a lot of ways. “But no dances. I am definitely not doing a fucking Tik Tok dance.”

“Fair enough.” You scrolled through the app trying to find a good video that the two of you could make. “Oh, I know. This will be fun.” You selected the audio from Gilmore Girls. The classic Jess “Why did you drop out of Yale speech.” You filmed Sebastian as Rory, and yourself as Jess. It took him a bit to get the hang of lip-syncing the words but eventually you had a completed result.

You posted the video with the caption, “As highly requested.” Within seconds, your phone was blowing up with likes and comments of people freaking out over you actually getting Sebastian to make a Tik Tok. 

“See? I told you they wanted it.” You smirked, hitting him lightly on the arm.

He rolled his eyes. “The things I do for you, Y/N.”

[moonlitluka]

can you do chad meeks martin fluff/angst where reader was really affected by ghostface and when it’s revealed that he back chad comforts her and reveals his feelings. he has so little fics and i love the way you write him. get to this whenever you can, now worries and if you don’t want to do it that’s cool.

Thanks for the request! Feel free to leave any requests y’all have!!

HE’S BACK

When the news breaks that Ghostface has followed the core four to the city | Chad Meeks-Martin x Reader | Fluff/Angst | established relationship

I sat next to Chad on the couch as we watched a saw marathon that was on TV. Mindy’s idea, clearly. We all heard the door click and turned to see who it was.

“Hey Sam.” I greeted her as she smiled and placed her stuff down on the dining room table. “Hey, whatcha guys watching?” She asked now joining us on the couch.

“Saw II, my personal favorite!” Mindy smiled while placing a piece of popcorn in her mouth. “Ugh how could you eat and watch these movies?” Sam laughed. “Eh it doesn’t really gross me out.”

I leaned further into Chad as he smiled down at me. His hand cupped my cheek leaning down to kiss me. We were interrupted by the movie suddenly cutting off and a breaking news screen popping up.

“What the hell?” Anika said leaning forward. “Isn’t that your dad?” I asked looking over to Quinn. She nodded in confusion.

“Looks like a press conference” Ethan said quietly. “Turn it up!” Chad said facing Anika. “Two BlackMore students were found dead in their shared apartment tonight.” The mayor announced as every camera flashed in his face.

The four of us shared a glance hoping it was just a coincidence. Anika seemed to notice the exchange as she frantically began to question us. “You guys don’t think this followed you here do you? It couldn’t have…right?”

Sam sighed before grabbing my shoulder. “Pack a bag. All of you, we’re leaving in the morning.” She said as she started to make her way to her room. “Sam slow down you don’t know that it has anything to do with us.” I reasoned.

Ethan coughed catching our attention before nodding to the tv. “The suspect was supposedly wearing this mask during the attack.” He said holding up a weathered Ghostface mask in an evidence bag.

I felt the air get knocked out of me. “We’re leaving.” Sam said finally. I hesitantly nodded my head.

I went to my room to try to clear my head for a moment. Pacing back and forth as I tried to relax myself. *knock*

I jumped before Chad peered his head in the door. “It’s just me, sorry. Can I come in?” He said softly. I nodded letting him come in.

Chad sat on my bed and patted the spot next to him. “Sit down baby.” So I did.

“It’s gonna be okay you know that right?” His hand grasped my shoulder tenderly. I wished I could believe him. However the odds of everything just being ‘okay’ are slim to none.

“Hey I’m serious. We’ll get out of town and everything will be fine. We can come back when they catch the guy and everything will go back to normal.” I chuckled dryly. “Nothings ever gonna be normal again don’t you get that? It’s never going to end! These are our lives now. Constantly running away just to be chased by someone different a year later. You either live to see it happen again or die trying.” I ranted tears streaming down my face.

I saw that he knew that too. He wanted to be strong for the rest of us but I knew this was breaking him too. None of us have ever been the same since the first attack. And now here we go again.

He sighed and hung his head. “Look, I know it looks bad but we’ll get past this like we always do. All of us together. I mean look at Sidney now, she’s happy. We can get there too.” I weakly smiled at him. I knew he was right. We would be okay. We always were. I just don’t think it’s fair that we have to do this again.

“Come here,” he whispered pulling me softly into his chest. I grasped onto him tight enough for him to huff out a breath and laugh. “Woah bear hug” he teased.

“Sorry,” I pulled away quickly. He grabbed my arm pulling me back in. “Don’t be. I’m right here.” I felt myself let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in. “Thank you Chad. You always know what to say. I don’t deserve you.” I cradled his face in my hands.

His soft smile warmed my heart at he leaned into to kiss me. “I love you.” He breathed out. “I love you more.”

[yearofradicalselfbelief]

12/06/24

Did not mean to disappear, but life has been happening (as life has a way of doing) and I’m not too sure about this blog’s original goal. That’s not to say things aren’t going well! An exciting writing opportunity may or may not be on the horizon, but it’s largely out of my hands now and I’m very much just waiting and seeing, but otherwise life is just life-ing.

I did find out this year that there’s a strong chance that I’m neurodivergent – mostly after a friend who also is was like “listen, I have a hunch” and I did some research. I don’t have an official diagnosis, and seeking one out isn’t particularly realistic for me right now, but it definitely did shine a light on a lot of things that now make sense. And honestly? This discovery has been so good, but also something to sort of? Contend with? It’s been so nice to see a lot of what I previously considered my major flaws and realise there is an explanation for them, beyond “I’m a fucking idiot lolol” and all that. A quote I heard a lot at the start of my digging is that it’s a relief, because previously you live in a world of horses, built for horses, and you think “man, I’m such a shite horse” – and then you find out you’re actually a zebra, and a really good zebra, you’ve just previously been comparing yourself to something that is entirely different to you.

It's been a relief, in some ways, and it’s brought about a lot of forgiveness towards myself. But it’s also been really difficult. Especially the longer it sinks in, and the more used I get to the strong likelihood.

Previously, like a lot of neurodivergent women, I thought I just had bad social anxiety and depression, along with a hefty dose of C-PTSD (which I still do, it’s just rooted in something different to what I previously thought), which means that all of the symptoms were put into the perspective of something to be beaten and overcome. That if I just tried hard enough, I’d stop feeling so constantly painfully fucking awkward, I’d feel less lost in social situations, I’d suddenly gain some sort of charisma, a comfort in my own skin, nothing would hurt, everything would be golden. And realising this has uhhh…taken that possibility away.

In some ways, it’s a relief. Realising that it’s more of a feature than a bug – and that it’s an explanation for why I instantly click and feel comfortable with some people, while it takes more work with others (guess what I have in common with folk in the former camp) – does, to an extent, allow me to put down the sword and walk away from the battle. One that I didn’t have a hope in hell of winning. And in a way it’s good, because that acceptance does help me. It lets me sit in my discomfort and accept it, rather than making it worse by fighting it and seeing it as the symptom of some terrible mental illness that I need to conquer.

But…on the other hand I need to accept that it is just always going to be there, and that has been very difficult. Especially this week. I think it hit me properly this week. Because others sense it immediately – to the point where pretty much everybody knew this about me before I was ready to accept it, for better or worse. It’s what got me bullied throughout my school career, it’s what had the teachers asking my friends ‘is there something wrong with her?’ when that bullying was reported to them. It’s what had my mother despising me, because I wasn’t the social butterfly party animal northern lass of a daughter she’d envisaged. It’s what’s had people I previously considered close friends drunkenly making jabs about how painfully awkward I am, and how they wouldn’t want me around for important life events thanks to that.

And it’s just always going to be that way, isn’t it?

Sure, there are right crowds and right people, and there is a lot that I can probably thank this difference in me for. And I have to laugh that I’m discovering it at the same time I’m writing Here, Where Fire Grows, a fic where the OFC feels constantly othered and ostracised by people without being able to place why they immediately have her marked as different or less-than when she spends most of her time trying to blend in.

It's just a bit of a grieving process. Sure, I don’t need to fight the battle in overcoming this – because it can’t be overcome, and maybe it shouldn’t be overcome. I have a lot to thank it for. It leads me to finding people I do vibe with, I probably have it to thank for how obsessively I chase after my hobbies and skills, and my patron deity has an affinity for the outcasts, so maybe it’s even how he barrelled into my life. I would never want to change any of that. But it’s just accepting that this fabled day where I’m super socially savvy, charming and unawkward will never come. And I can’t lie, that does hurt a bit.

Sure, I’m a great zebra, but I am still living in a world made for horses. So I’m always going to be the awkward one, the one who needs to be explained before introduced, the one who’s only fun to hang out with if you’re willing to endure the awkward quietness the first few times before I get comfortable enough to not just go selectively mute. I’m always going to be the one who people see and immediately think there’s something not quite right, regardless of how much I’m probably internally panicking over trying to just seem fucking normal.

And honestly, the internet is a godsend. I’m so much better at communicating via text than speaking, because when I speak, I panic and I stutter, and unless I really concentrate, I’ll fuck up my sentences (not beating the awkward as fuck allegations, huh?) but then that adds extra panic, too, because I’ve made so many amazing friends online, and I die inside whenever one excitedly tells me they’re going to be coming through my city, because my first instant thought is “god, you’re going to be so fucking disappointed by how I am in person” – especially because in those cases, we don’t have time for the three hangouts before I manage to un-freeze enough to become who I actually am. And I can’t really bear the thought of that.

It’s just exhausting, if I’m being honest. And I do think finding acceptance will help me make strides forward, but even knowing that I don’t particularly have to fight the battle to be “normal” anymore, I feel like I’ve lost it once and for all now. I don’t want to be the one who constantly makes shit first impressions, or who has to apologise for being weird, or just apologise for existing in general, or who has to be explained before she’s introduced, or who thinks she has a really close friend only to be mocked for that awkwardness that she cannot help, and having that last bit happen enough that I’m in a constant state of waiting for it to happen with other, better friends, too.

People compliment me, and I’m just waiting for them to see the awkwardness and the differences, because surely they wouldn’t be giving those compliments if they’d noticed by now? Or if they have seen that and continue to actually hold me in some sort of high regard, I feel like I need to be fucking eternally grateful to them for being magnanimous enough to overlook my glaring flaws and other-ness in order to find one or two shreds that they kinda sorta like. Or hey, maybe they’re just lying and it’s all some cunning ruse. Very realistic and likely, right?

And people will love me anyway. Deep down, I know that. Whether it’s in spite of it, or because of it, they do and they will, but it’s so much harder for me to love myself while taking all of this in. I’m going through a bad bout of depression right now, and the overwhelming thought just utterly battering my skull is I don’t like anything about myself. Knowing that I am, to some extent, always going to be off-putting to people, always going to be laughed at or mocked for something that I can’t help and can’t even adequately cover up, and that I’m always going to feel like I’m living in a world where everybody else was given a map and a fully written guide on where to go, what to do, and how to act, when I wasn’t looking.

I’ll find my peace with it. As I said, a lot of this current feeling is just because I’m going through it with my depression right now. I’ve been the weird one all of my life, I’ll be the weird one for the rest of it. On a deeper level, I can find a lot about that to love. I wouldn’t want to blend in.  It’s just a grieving process, and I can’t skip straight to acceptance with this one.

[football-and-fanfics]

"Are you warm enough?" - John Stones

Who: John Stones Prompt: "Are you warm enough?" Requested by: anonymous Warnings: mentions of being sick

John already felt it the moment he woke up that morning. It was the unpleasant feeling of being hot and cold at the same time that usually accompanied a fever. He wasn't really sure why, but even though he felt miserable, John still got out of bed and went to training. Only ten minutes into training, John knew he had made a mistake by not calling in sick. He was constantly stumbling over his own feet, and sometimes his vision swam out of focus for a few seconds. It would be somewhat of a miracle if he made it to the end of training without either fainting, throwing up or both.

"John, what’s going on with you?" Kyle asked a little exasperated after the fifth time John had lost the ball. Normally it was hard to catch him making one mistake, but five in not even ten minutes was completely out of character for him. "I’m not feeling well," John answered truthfully. Kyle now had a good look at his teammate and friend. "To be hones, you indeed don’t look so good. Maybe you should call in sick?" John shook his head. "We have a big match coming up this weekend." Kyle chuckled. "Like you're going to be of much use to us like this." John nodded quietly. He realized, of course, that Kyle was completely right. In his current state he would be lucky to be playing at all this weekend. "Go on, go home," Kyle assured, "I hope you feel better soon, mate." "Thanks." John sluggishly collected his things, and got in his car to go home. ------------ The sound of the keys in the lock startled you. John shouldn’t be home for at least another few hours. You got up from the couch and strode into the hall to see who it was. Just closing the door behind him, was John. "You’re home early." You weren’t able to keep the concern out of your voice. "Did something happen?" "They sent me home." John now turned around to look at you. "I’m sick." Even without him telling you, you could see he wasn’t feeling well. "I can see that." You held out your arms for him to come to you. John shuffled over and rested his head against your shoulder. "You’re burning up!" The skin of his face felt warm and clammy to the touch. "Come on, lie down on the couch. I’ll get you a blanket and some tea, and you're going to get lost of rest." John gladly dragged himself over to the couch and stretched himself out upon it. You quickly found a nice, warm blanket and made him a cup of tea. "Here you go." You draped the blanket over him. "Are you warm enough?" John nodded slowly as he pulled the blanket up to his chin. "Thanks, babe." You made to go sit on the other, smaller couch in your living room, but John stopped you before you could sit down. "Sit with me, please." His voice sounded groggy and void of energy, but the almost desperate plea for your comfort was more than evident. You didn't hesitate. "Sure." John sat up just long enough for you to sit down next to him. He stretched himself out again, resting his head in your lap. His body felt hot to yours, the fever clearly running high. You lovingly ran your fingers through John's hair, gently twisting strands of it around your fingers. "Sleep," you mumbled to him, "get better." But John no longer heard it, for he had already drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

Tags: @evie-pr, @auawdo, @meteora-fc, @de-geas, @stonesyyyy, @drizzyreese, @hbstre, @liverpoolfanfiction, @sternennebel2001 John tags: @footballffbarbiex PL tags: @ella33 Add me to the tags list! For more of my John imagines, click here

[baby-girl-e]

Their Legacy part 2

Characters - Iceman x Maverick, Original Female character x Phoenix, Rooster, Dagger squad, Original Male character

Summary - Legacy wins Top Gun and gets to tell her extremely proud family and flirt with a pretty girl

Word Count - 3.5k

Warnings - None :)

A/N - It’s me hi, I’m the problem it’s me! I know it’s been ages since I posted the first part of this fic and I have no other excuse but that I more than likely have something wrong with my brain that prevents me from sticking to something for long! (my poor therapist and publishing agent) And that I am working on my debut book so this kinda took a back seat! BUT! I am back with a chapter I hope you like (: 

The last week before graduation flew by almost as fast as the F-18’s they were using, and before she knew it, Legacy was prepping for the graduation ceremony the next day. Her and Thunder had stayed in their front lining spot and were winning the trophy at the ceremony. She still hadn’t told her dad’s which she knew was cruel but hey, she wanted to surprise them. Now she knew she couldn’t keep something like that hidden from her Admiral father because he knew and saw all, so she decided to tell him herself after she heard the news, practically begging Merlin to keep quiet until she could tell him. 

Which brought her where she was now, nervously standing outside of an office she knew well. She wasn’t nervous he wouldn’t be proud of her, that much was obvious, she was just anxious because this was so big. Nepotism ran rampant in the Navy, it’s all about who you know and what they can do for you, but her father actively fought against it. Not once did her dad ever make a call on her behalf (something she held over her other dad’s head) or put in a good word. Sure she was asked constantly if her last name ‘Kazansky’ was because of the Kazansky, and she never lied, but she never brought it up herself. A simple “yes” was enough and she moved on. She got to the TOP GUN trophy on her own and damn it if she’s not proud of herself. 

After a moment to take a breath she knocked on the door and heard her father say to come in. It’s now or never. 

“Hey dad.” She stepped in and could see him hunched over some paperwork, glasses perched on his nose. 

“‘Hey sweetheart! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Sitting down across from him she fiddled with her fingers, a nervous habit. 

“Well, I have some good news and I wanted to tell you in person.”

He lit up at her words and gestured for her to continue. 

“I, uh, won the trophy. I’m Top Gun.”

There were tears in his eyes. Scratch that, the COMPACFLT was actively crying. 

“Oh honey.” And with that he was out of his chair embracing her. Clutching her tight and swaying slightly. 

“Are you proud dad?”

“Proud? oh I’m a step above proud. I’m in awe. I knew you could do it.”

Legacy smiled and held onto her dad, just happy to be here. But she knew there was something else missing. Or more accurately someone.

“Let’s call your father in shall we? He’s out here somewhere. I really ought to put a tracker on him.”

It’s like he read her mind.There was a rumor that went around that he could do that, she believed it on occasion. 

He made a turn for his phone and clicked on the contact labeled ‘Husband’. She remembers the argument that the word ‘husband’ wasn’t cutesy enough for Mav and to settle it her father had added a red heart. “Look there’s a heart, happy?” Paps had just smiled cheekily and admired his husband's contact labeled ‘Baby’ with about every color heart there was. 

“Hey babe, where are you right now?”

She was only hearing half of the conversation, but she could see her dad pretty much shaking with excitement. 

“Well tell Admiral Simpson that you’re wanted by the COMPACFLT.”

…

“Mav can’t you take this seriously? Please tell him but without the innuendo?”

…

“Oh my god you twelve year old boy, our daughter is sitting in my office right now. That light a fire under your ass?”

…

“There you go, I’ll see you in ten.”

He put his phone down and told Elizabeth that Pete would join them in about ten minutes. 

“You know he’s gonna think something bad happened right?”

“Yes, that’s what I’m hoping for. Your dad is kinda dense and needs some encouragement sometimes.”

“Why is he my dad when he’s being dumb, but he’s your husband when he’s being sweet?”

Tom just smiles at his daughter and puts his hand on her shoulder. 

“Because when he’s being dumb I can’t think about what it must say about me that I married him.”

Ten minutes later they hear a rumbling of feet and the door swinging open to find a very frazzled Pete Mitchell. 

“What is it? Are you okay?”

He was breathing deep, and for most men his age that wasn’t a good thing, but her dad was made out of metal so… he was fine. 

“Relax Paps, it's good news.”

He lights up a bit and leans onto the arm of his husband's chair. 

“Oh, well, great!” He turns to his husband, “You could’ve said that before I ran like a madman over here!” 

“What’s the fun in that?” Tom said rather cheekily. 

“Guys! Good news here? Remember?”

Tom turned to his husband and nudged him a little. 

“Listen, it’s pretty good.”

“You know already? You son of a bit-“

“PAPS!” 

He quickly shut his mouth and nodded at her to continue. 

“What I’ve been trying to say is, I won Top Gun. I’m taking home the trophy!” 

Pete jumps up from his perch and picks up his daughter. She’s about an inch taller than him but he never cared. She was his baby. 

“Are you kidding me? Oh my god little princess I’m so proud!!” 

Being called a little princess after sharing the news that she just won a trophy for being one of the best pilots in the entire navy wasn’t exactly what she expected, but hey, it’s her paps. 

“Indeed. That’s three people in this family with the trophy, sorry Pete.”

“Hey I would've won that and you know it.”

Note the skating over the ‘why’ he didn’t win. That was rarely, if ever, brought up.

“Say whatever you want Pete, doesn’t make it true.”

Good god did these two ever stop bickering? She knew the answer to that all too well. It was never. She didn’t miss however the fact that he had said three  people had won the trophy in the family. He was obviously referencing Bradley.  No matter how long it had been since he’d left home and basically took himself out of the equation, they’d always consider him family.

“Well, as much fun as it is listening to you guys bicker, I really should be going. I’ve got a big day ahead of me.”

That seems to kick her parents into high gear. Tom is immediately turning from his husband to his daughter. 

“Yes you do indeed. I’ll talk to Merlin and see if I can be the one to present you with the award.”

“That’d be great. But maybe let him announce it? Let you soak in the moment, yeah?”

“You want me to give you the award but you want Sam to do the talking?”

She nods affirmatively at her father and he gives his husband a look. 

“Cryptic, you’re more and more like your Paps everyday.”

“That’s a compliment, little miss. Take it as one.” Pete wasn’t about to be slandered in front of his daughter. 

The truth was, she still wanted to keep the whole “I changed my last name and I’m proud of it” thing a secret, wanting to make tomorrow even more special. 

With a kiss to each of her fathers’ cheeks she headed out to celebrate with Jake. This was just as much of a celebration for him as it was for her. She had told him to meet her at the Hard Deck and lost track of time so she had to go in uniform. Grand.

“There she is, the woman of the hour!” 

Jake shouted to her as though he had started to celebrate already. Smelling his breath it seemed highly likely. 

“Oh please, I’d be nowhere without you Jake.”

“I know, I was just giving you the opportunity to brag for once, good to know it didn’t last.”

He was right, she rarely bragged. It was all due to the fact that if she did brag it would sound more like bragging on the Kazansky name which she was taught never to do. Maybe she could brag on the Mitchell name, but probably not in the Navy. 

Looking over at the bar she spots Phoenix standing with what she assumed was her WSO. It wasn’t a secret that there weren’t many female aviators, so the ones there were teamed up. It sounded cliche, but the reality of the situation was, women had to stick together. In Legacy’s case, she tried to make friends with as many people as possible, and did her best to look out extra for the women she was around. Even with the Kazansky name, she still had a moment or two where she was looked over or harassed for her gender. That came to a screeching halt when the second person harassing her got a shiny dishonorable discharge from the COMPACFLT himself. After that it was quiet, and she knew her privilege so she tried to get as many people under her umbrella of protection as she could. Was it sad that you had to know people to be protected from harassment? Yes. But was that just the way things were? Unfortunately. 

She decided to approach Phoenix, if she was being honest she was a little shy, an unusual emotion for Legacy. She was usually very confident, a trait all aviators inherited, but when it came to beautiful women she looked up to as a role model? That goes out the window. If she was being completely honest, she was crushing hard on her. 

“Hey, it’s Natasha right?” She decided to go simple, hoping for the best. 

“Yeah, you’re Elizabeth right?”

“Yeah that’s me. My dad is training you guys for your mission.”

Phoenix smiles and turns more towards her. Now they’re an arms length away and Legacy has to remember how to breathe. 

“Captain Mitchell is your dad? I’ve been meaning to ask you how you’re Bradshaw’s sister.” 

Legacy liked her already. Her family’s story was one that was told over and over again in the Navy. She never really got to introduce herself to anyone since everyone already ‘knew’ her. Whether Phoenix really didn’t know her story or she was just being nice and letting her tell it, she appreciated it either way. 

“Well it’s a long story but, Mav adopted Bradley when his mom died. And my mom died when I was a baby and her brother, Admiral Kazansky, adopted me since nobody knew who my biological father was. So as far as I’m concerned Admiral Kazansky is my dad. Mav and my dad have been together since 1986, and raised Bradley and I together so I always considered Mav to be my other dad and Bradley to be my brother, and then they made it legal when they got married in 2015 and Mav adopted me.” 

Phoenix looks like she comprehended that enough, even if it was a lot of information. 

“Wow, that's complicated. That would explain the last name Kazansky then.” She pointed to her shiny name badge.

“Oh yeah, my legal given last name is actually Kazansky-Mitchell, but because of all of the military’s homophobic shit I had to pretend Mav wasn’t my Paps.” 

“That’s rough. Was it hard keeping that secret for so long?”

Oh boy was it. You try telling a kid that they can’t call their dad, “Dad” in public. She had even resorted to not calling him by name in public, feeling weird about calling her dad “uncle”. 

“I had a lot of practice, but every time I had to refer to Paps as ‘Uncle’ it physically hurt me. Him too I’m sure. Did he really not tell you guys this stuff?”

Legacy loved her Paps, but the man had a big mouth. It’s a wonder that he never outed himself. 

“He mentioned that he had a daughter at TOP GUN here and there, but nothing specific. Hey, isn’t graduation tomorrow?”

“Indeed it is.”

“Well, who took the trophy??” She leaned in close, all excited. 

“You’re looking at her.”

Her jaw dropped and swung Liz into a big hug. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying every millisecond of being pressed up against her. 

“No way! Congratulations!” 

She pulled back slightly but didn’t really seem to want to let Liz go. Not that she was complaining, not even a little bit.

“Thanks Nat, it was rough but I did it!”

“Wow, you must be so excited. Guess we’ll get Mav in a good mood tomorrow then?”

“Well you’ve been seeing him in his good mood so far, it doesn’t get any better than when his husband is in town.” 

Nat remembers that she’s still holding Legacy by her arms and releases her. Much to Legacy’s disappointment. 

“Then this plus his husband in town might be a sight to see huh?”

“If you’re not tied up during graduation, you could come see for yourself if you want?” 

This was Legacy’s shameless way of trying to invite her to the graduation. Hopefully it didn’t come off as desperate as it sounded in her head.

“I would love to, I’ll tag along with Bradshaw. Hopefully he won’t mind, I’m powerless to resist an invite from a pretty girl.”

Liz was in such shock from her words that she nearly forgot that she had yet to tell Bradley she won TOP GUN. Did Phoenix really just call her pretty? 

“Well I’m powerless to resist inviting a pretty girl to come to my graduation.” Her aviator confidence just now coming in. Better late than never. 

“So it seems we’ve established we both think the other is pretty. What do you want to do with that information?” Nat takes a step closer, impossibly closer. Her hand comes down on Legacy’s that’s resting on the bar. 

“Hmm, we could take a walk on the beach? Somewhere more private? Talk about it some more?” 

“Lead the way Legacy.” Phoenix gestures towards the doors that lead to the beach. It was quiet in the bar already, even quieter out there. 

Once they made their way outside legacy decided that she’d make the next move and grabbed her hand. It felt right, like that’s where her hand ought to be. 

“So... you think I’m pretty?” Phoenix was known for her confidence, this sudden questioning was... abnormal. 

“Well yeah, have you ever looked in a mirror?” They were walking hand in hand down the beach, seemingly both nervous. They have one of the most dangerous jobs in the world and do it without a second thought, but flirting? Forget it. 

“Look Nat, I like you. Like a lot. But I don’t know if this is such a good Idea right now. With Bradley and your mission…” Natasha nodded along like she understood, but stopped walking. 

“I know your brother, he’s going to be impossible, but he will want you to be happy.” She knew she was right, obviously, but she still had her reservations. 

“I don’t know what you’re going up against out there but I do know that you can’t afford to be distracted.” 

Natasha considered this, obviously rolling it around in her head. “Okay, but I expect a kiss when this is all over.” 

Legacy smiled and nodded. “You’ll get one I promise. I’ve got to go tell Brad that I won, but I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Of course. See you tomorrow.” She winked at Legacy before taking her leave. 

Legacy had to giggle to herself for a moment to shake off the flirtatious energy before she went back inside to tell Jake she was leaving. He groaned at her early departure (again) but relented. 

////

Telling Bradley went about the same as it did for everyone else. He was ecstatic for her and gave her a hug not unlike the one her Paps gave her. 

“Liz, I’ll be there I promise.” 

“Even though both our parents will be there?” She made sure to call them our parents.

“Of course. My love for you goes beyond my distaste for them.” She sighed. That was probably as good as it was going to get. But maybe she really was like her paps because she couldn’t help a little push. 

“Are you ever going to forgive them? Come home?” Bradley stepped back and rolled his eyes. 

“Come on Liz. I thought you understood why I can’t.” She put her hand back on his shoulder and made her way into his space again. 

“I do Brad. You know I do. What Paps did was shitty okay? But what you don’t see is their regret. Dad especially. They had me for more of my life, but you were their first kid. Neither of them ever thought they’d be parents, let alone together, but there you were. They love you so much it hurts them, I know it. Just…” She wasn’t sure what to say next. “Just think about it okay? Maybe just talk to Dad if that’s easier.” 

“Lizzy, Iceman is just as at fault in this as Maverick. You know he’s an accomplice.” The callsigns coming from him were weird. At least he wasn’t calling them Captain or Admiral.

“They’re married Roo. Of course they’re going to be together on things. But you know Dad was more reluctant to pull your papers.” He had said so many times, when he didn’t think she was listening. 

He just lowered his head and sighed. “I know. I know. Just… I haven’t ever been able to figure out my mind about this. I know it’s confusing but I just can’t do it yet.” 

She sympathized with him, she really did. Did he have years and years to figure this out? Yes. But was that ever enough time? Nobody really knew. Things tend to happen when they happen regardless of what your timeline is like. 

“It’s okay brad. I just want you to know that they’re ready when you are. And I selfishly want my family back together.” She gave him a hug and took her leave, she didn’t really know what else to say. 

/////

Her Top Gun graduation was exactly what she imagined it would be. She should know she’s been to a few. It was hot and sunny and she was in heaven. She sat in the front row next to her best friend and had a straight shot of her dads on stage smiling just as widely as her. 

“I know you’re all anxious to be done with this and celebrating with your families, but we have one last thing to do and dare I say it’s the most important part of this ceremony.” Merlin had a look in his eye that Legacy knew all too well, and winked at her knowingly. 

“I’d like to ask Admiral Kazansky and Captain Mitchell to please join me if you would,” They got up quickly and joined their friend at the podium. “This is a special ceremony for both me and these men beside me, and those rowdy old flyboys out in the audience.” 

Slider, Wolfman, Hollywood, Chipper, and Sundown had all made their way to the ceremony the minute they heard the news. They had apparently all received calls from both of her parents the minute she had left her dad’s office. The group cheered at Merlin's words. 

“We are all so excited to present this award for ‘Top Gun’ to Elizabeth “Legacy” Kazansky-Mitchell and her RIO Jake “Thunder” Thompson. Come on up here kids.” He then handed her dad the plaque and he looked like he barely realized what had just happened. Paps looked like he couldn’t believe his eyes as they tracked down to the name on the plaque. 

Liz and Jake shook the hands of the airboss and other brass that had joined them and then she was hugged swiftly by her uncle merlin. She stood before the COMPACFLT/ her father and jokingly held out her hand to shake. He had tears in his eyes as he handed her the plaque and hugged her tightly. 

“Oh I’m so proud of you sweetie. So proud.” He whispered only to her. 

As he let go she was brought into another hug by her Paps almost immediately. 

“You know you didn’t need to change your name right?” His voice was shaky and uncertain. Unusual for the great Maverick. 

“I know, but I wanted to. It’s high time your name is on that plaque. You’ve certainly earned it.” She pulled away to see his tears too and couldn’t help but smile wider. Her Paps had been through so much, he deserved this. 

She turned to the audience and sure enough there sat both Phoenix and Bradley, clapping wildly and smiling at her. She didn’t know what she did to get so lucky, but damn was she grateful. 

[notnctu]

jaehyun: the charming

━ welcome home to housemating smut series :)

☆ click the link above to read background info about this housemate!

☆ GENRE: smut, pwp ☆ DETAILS: fem!reader, college!au, housemate!au ☆ WARNINGS: explicit language, nicknames, dirty talking, possessiveness, rough sex, praise kink, oral (giving and receiving), spitting, choking, unprotected (wrap up yall!!) ☆ WC: 4.1k ☆ SYNOPSIS: A harmless game of Truth Or Dare with your housemates reveals Jaehyun’s true desires and has him eyeing you the entire night.

☆ AUTHORS NOTE: this is the only part for jaehyun ! sorry for the long wait,, i started this during my writing hiatus and did not have much motivation to finish it since its been really difficult to write smut lately :/ regardless, i hope you can leave me some feedback if you liked it <3 doyoung’s part will be the next in the series once i get to it !

“If you could kiss anyone in this room right now, who would it be?” Johnny beckons his drink to Jaehyun, who blinks at him with knitted eyebrows and a quizzical expression.

It’s one of those rare nights where all your housemates are home and Doyoung is actually out of his room to participate in everyone’s foolishness. All six of you sit comfortably in the living room as the fifth round of Truth or Dare commences. 

You share the large couch with Jaemin and Haechan, sandwiching you in between them happily. Doyoung, Jaehyun and Johnny are seated in their own respective chairs that circle the tiny coffee table in the center. 

And if your housemates could be any more distracting, Jaehyun sits laid-back without a shirt on and grey sweatpants that fit loosely on his legs, manspreading as if he has all the space in the world. His soft hair falls messily around his face from constantly running his hands through it and his abs flex without him needing to do much.

It’s hard not to stare, but no one in the room calls you out for doing so. They’ve all stared at you plenty enough times on other occasions, so it would be hard for any of them to give you a counterargument. Jaehyun simply looks good enough to devour, and he can say the same for you as he steals sly glances your way.

Every subtle connection of smoldering eye contact sends a thrill down your core, and the smirk paired with his dotted dimple has you swooning for him over and over. Jaehyun knows every way to drive you wild without needing to say or touch you.

It’s unbelievable how that man has only allowed you to see his intimacy once with the way he whistles whenever you walk down the stairs in a cute outfit or how often he compliments your butt just for the pure satisfaction of you having one. Despite having the highest body count in the entire house, he has great self control and never comes off as being too needy. 

And every time he is needy, he already has another girl in his room to satisfy him. So, this never gave you another opportunity to sleep with him as much as you wanted to. If you weren’t so bashful, you might’ve had enough courage to just walk into his room and ask. 

Nonetheless, here you both are: sitting across from each other during a slowly escalating game of Truth or Dare and eyeing each other every chance you can get.

“Shouldn’t you ask y/n that question?” Jaehyun mumbles, finding Johnny’s question rather ridiculous since the ratio in the room is 1 girl to 5 guys and finds no curiosity to know how bad of a kisser the rest of his housemates are. “I think you’d rather know her answer than mine.”

You clear your throat when every attention is drawn toward you, expecting you to give a truthful response when it isn’t even your turn. “What if I didn’t pick truth?”

“You want a dare?” Jaemin rests a hand on your bare thigh and turns delightfully toward you with a dark mischievous gleam in his eye.

Gulping, you try your best to diffuse the situation. “It’s not my turn.” 

“I’ll give my turn to you.” Jaehyun smiles and proceeds to gesture toward you to speak.

Bewildered, you’re looking to Doyoung to protest about such unfair grounds of switching the rules. However, he doesn’t say a word, shrugging it off like it’s not a big deal. “You’re all unbelievable.” You scoff sarcastically.

“C’mon, it’s just a friendly game. Everyone wants you to go.” Haechan clicks his tongue out of impatience, the anticipation practically suffocating the whole house.

“Ask me when it’s my turn.” You stand your ground and send Jaehyun a quick glare. 

The tension drops instantly from the stiff atmosphere. Haechan’s groan erupts beside you as he sits back against the couch with his arms crossed. 

“Okay, buttercup. I’ll answer Johnny’s ridiculous question, but know that I have a good one for you.” Jaehyun leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees with his hands clasped together loosely. “I’d kiss y/n.” 

Your breath hitches, but no one else is actually surprised by his answer. “Yeah, I’d kiss y/n too if this was my selection pool.” Doyoung remarks with a roll in his eyes.

“I mean,” Jaehyun sits back coolly in his chair, hands stretched behind his head and every muscle flexed in view. Every movement has your mouth watering at his impressive body on display. “Even if we were playing with other people, I’d still choose y/n.” A dimple smile causes your heart to beat rapidly.

Johnny scoffs, “if we circled up all your flings, you’d still choose y/n?” 

Jaehyun ponders the hypothetical for a second, but his eyes land back on yours and every hesitation disappears. “Yeah. She has the softest lips.” He says, very matter of fact.

Your fingers unconsciously graze against your lips briefly, before you clear your throat and shake away the power of his arousing words. “Okay, okay. Let’s move on?” 

“Okay, y/n. Truth or Dare?” Jaehyun picks this open opportunity to bring the attention back to you. Your housemates wait patiently for your choice, with eyebrows raised in the thick tension that this simple game has built up.

With shifty eyes and a dry throat, you mutter. “Dare.” 

There is a notable sparkle in Jaehyun’s dark lustful orbs. “I dare you to kiss the person that you think is the hottest in this room.” 

“Well, it would be difficult to kiss myself.” Rolling your eyes, the edge in your tone is enough to make the rest of them snicker. 

“I’m done after this round. It’s always the weirdest twists whenever we play games like this together.” Doyoung crosses his arms, throwing a small fit at the request. 

Johnny smirks, “because you know y/n wouldn’t kiss you?” 

Doyoung���s mouth opens to protest, but he falls short of a defensive response. He takes his defeat and slumps back against the chair, pouty and grumpy. “Just get it over with and kiss Jaehyun.” 

With a turn of events, you get up from your spot on the couch. Jaehyun follows your every move, your stare never leaving his own. Like a lost puppy, you lead him into thinking the kiss would be for him. However, you lean forward and hold Doyoung’s chin gently, planting a soft kiss on the equally shocked boy. 

“I think Doyoung is the hottest because he treats me with the most chivalry.” The sweetness that taints your mocking words has Doyoung turning red and Jaehyun turning into stone. The charming smile that lights up your darkest parts is gone, and Jaehyun blinks back at you with a tight jaw. 

Jaemin and Haechan read the room too well, excusing themselves before the tension reaches its peak. Doyoung gulps, glancing between you and Jaehyun, and awkwardly makes his way back to his room. Johnny chuckles at the abrupt end of the night, patting Jaehyun’s shoulder lightly before also heading up to bed. 

Every next move is crucial. With your weight barred on your left leg, you cross your arms with as much attitude as you can to push Jaehyun’s buttons further. “Jaehyun, if you really wanted a kiss, you could just ask me without wasting a turn.”

“Where’s the fun in that, buttercup? You clearly like testing your limits.” His voice drops at the end of his sentence. Jaehyun stands up, approaching you slowly. “But if you want my attention, you could just ask me without trying to make me jealous.”

His boldness catches you off guard, leaving you a bit speechless to formulate a proper explanation. Your hesitation gets caught in your throat when Jaehyun lightly places his hand on your waist. “It’s late, we should probably get to bed.” His raspy baritone cadence rumbles your chest.

Fingers graze his arm softly, but he pulls away before you can get a hold of him. “Are you actually going to sleep?”

Jaehyun walks to the bottom of the staircase, motioning you to walk first. “No, I’ll be up thinking about you.” A smirk finishes his sensual taunt and you cautiously head up the stairs. 

He follows directly after you and a whistle escapes his lips. “Have I given you your daily ass compliment yet?”

“Got one this morning.” With each step, Jaehyun is quick to match. 

“Well, you look amazing everyday.” He meets you at the top of the steps and when you’re ready to part back into your room, he stops you. “Where’s my kiss goodnight, baby?” 

You can’t possibly count the numerous times you’ve rolled your eyes being around him. “In my room, if you dare wish to enter.” Though your statement was clearly sarcastic, Jaehyun raises an questionable eyebrow. 

“I’ll only come if you let me in.” His innocent eyes do not match his sinister tone and his hidden innuendos. 

“I guess I always go into your room, it would be nice to have a change.” Taking his hand, you lead him down the hallway. The doors of your other housemates are oddly closed, but you figured they wanted some privacy. His warm hand feels rough against your palm and your heart drums as you two inch closer to your bedroom.

Jaehyun gently closes your door and examines your room as if he’s never been inside. “Don’t be a stranger.” You say, dropping his hand and sitting at the edge of your bed.

“Do you leave your underwear drawer open for all your friends to see?” He snickers, his pinky holding your special red lace panties up in the air. Your eyes go wide as you quickly yank the material out of his possession and shove the cabinet closed.

“I wouldn’t have figured you were the nosey type.” You grumble, but he takes this close proximity to pull you into his bare chest. His firm hand gives your ass a soft squeeze.

“It was quite obviously on display.” His dark whisper sends a chill down your spine and butterflies to swirl in the pit of your core. The faint smell of his body wash suffocates you all around and his sultry stare has you melting in his hands. It is so difficult to resist him, you want everything that is Jung Jaehyun.

Your words are quite possibly caught in your throat, but the hesitation does not show in your expression. Lightly, your fingertips trace the outline of his biceps and his dark stare follows every drag. Admittedly, Jaehyun will find any excuse to grab your attention. Call him possessive for no good reason, but something inside him bubbles with envy whenever your other housemates even leave a lingering stare.

Although he’s not the type to be vocal about it, his facial expressions speak volumes. May it be his competitive nature, but he can’t let the others have you. You have unknowingly become off-limits to the rest, but frankly, you don’t care all too much. Your prize is already in front of you.

“Are you going to kiss me or do I have to wait all night again?” With every will, you try your best to control the nervous tremble in your bold rhetorical question.

Jaehyun wastes no more time; soft lips crash into your own and you feel like you’re floating. Only he can make you feel this way. Hands in hair, the tug on his fresh locks has him moaning through the kiss. Jaehyun loses himself in you, rubbing his semi-hard cock against your thigh and gripping your ass harshly in his hand.

Every drip of saliva is swapped in the mess of your connected mouths and you’re reminded of how rough this man enjoys to be. Your knees buckle at the thought of him and Jaehyun is quick to hold you up, placing you strategically at the end of your bed. 

Pulling away, he stands in front of you with the largest dick print against his sweatpants, along with a small wet spot. There are no bashful words exchanged as the room is filled with heavy breathing and sultry looks. Jaehyun guides your hand to his waistband, silently waiting for you to free him.

Looking up at your beautiful boy, the neediness of release almost ruins his perfect charming look. Hair is tousled wildly across his eyes and his bottom lip escapes underneath the top row of his pearly teeth. He just looks so fucked out already, you can’t imagine how much he was holding back earlier.

You pull down enough of his pants for his dick to spring up right in front of you, not expecting the lack of underwear. Your small gasp cause him to chuckle, pushing the back of your head forward toward his hard cock. “Surprised?”

“You weren’t wearing underwear the entire night?” You question him as your hands cup his balls. A sharp intake of breath is his only response before he can compose himself. 

Through gritted teeth, Jaehyun stutters, “Like you were?” He throws his head back when your warm tongue flicks against his throbbing red tip. Every vein in his arm and neck pops on display as he grabs a hold of your hair.

“You wouldn’t know.” You snicker, running your tongue up and down his shaft. Jaehyun looks back down at your piercing eyes and his dick right above your cheek.

A smirk grows devilishly, “I’m about to find out.” Pushing your shoulder back gently, your back lands comfortably on the mattress. Your heart is racing as Jaehyun gets down on his knees, situating himself in between your open legs.

“May I?” He asks, warm hands on your inner thighs as he patiently waits for your answer.

“Yes.” Jaehyun pulls your shorts down to reveal your favorite comfort cotton panties that have faded from their original color. Naturally, you grow embarrassed and quickly slap your legs closed before Jaehyun can process. 

He blinks at you questionably, quite taken aback by the abrupt motion. “Are you okay?”

“Let’s just say I wasn’t completely expecting to sleep with anyone tonight. I’m not quite prepared down there.” Your gaze drops and you anxiously fist your sheets in your sweaty hands.

Jaehyun nods, understanding your implications. “I don’t care about those things. You are…” landing a quick peck on your bare knee, he rubs reassuring circles with his thumb. “.... the prettiest baby ever. And if you’d let me, buttercup, I want to make you feel good.” 

He has always been suave with his words, as if he knows the handbook to get butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Slowly, your legs open back up before him and the slightest groan rumbles from his throat.

The wet patch on your panties is hard to ignore and he’s mesmerized, to say the least. He peels down your underwear and uses his thumb to spread your lips. Leaning forward, Jaehyun lightly licks at your erect clit and your twitch in response is enough to feed into his ego. 

He dives hungrily, eating you out until your eyes roll to the back of your head and your back is arching off of the bed. He flattens his tongue against you, pushing in and out of your dripping hole in a rhythmic motion. His nose is deep in your skin, intoxicated by your arousal, and his eyes are drinking up your uncontrollable reactions.

It’s as if electricity shocks through your lower half. The pleasure that comes with every lick and sweet suckle has you panting for more. His name echoes from your tender lips while Jaehyun inserts two fingers to stretch you out. The initial ache subsides into an indescribable pleasure; it’s the feeling of being full of anything mixing with the sensitivity of tongue against clit that has you practically on the verge of release. 

Jaehyun isn’t going to give it to you that easily. The moment your moans grow bolder, your legs begin to shake, your hand putting a little more pressure on his head, he pulls away and gets up. A desperate sigh crushes your chest as the build up leads to dissatisfaction. Jaehyun wipes his chin with the back of his hand, his two fingers glistening before being shoved into your own mouth. 

“That’s my good girl, give yourself a taste.” His hot words cause you to flood a bit more, the feeling of wetness pooling at your core. However, you two toy each other with no end as he is provoked by the way your tongue sensually swirls around his digits and how your hips keep squirming closer to the edge. “How badly do you want to get fucked?”

His firm hand holds your moving hips into the bed and you’re aching to be filled with his dick. He’s so hard that it slaps against his abdomen, red tip and spewing precum. Nonetheless, his self restraint is quite strong as he notices the defeat in your expression. Enough teasing, your body wants him endlessly. 

“Jaehyun, I want you to give me all that you got.” At the end of your request, he enters you slowly with a breathy moan. The stretch is much more than his two fingers, causing you to squirm and wiggle. Inch by inch, Jaehyun fills you to your brim and pauses for you to adjust to his size. 

“Fuck, it’s been awhile since we’ve slept together. I almost forgot how tight you are.” How could this man possibly smile with so much innocence while saying such foul things? The next action causes you to go a bit dizzy as he spits down at your clit and rubs it lovingly with his thumb. You practically see stars on your mundane ceiling. 

He starts moving his hips, deep long thrusts pulling out to only sharply fill you up again. Jaehyun is relentless as every thrust forward has you moving more and more up the bed. Your legs are pressed against your chest, folding you over to hit your sweet spot. When his tip grazes upon the greatest feeling ever, your grip on the sheets grows tighter and he’s smirking at how your mouth hangs open in pure ecstasy and shock.

“You’re so good at taking my cock.” He pants, moving faster than before. “My baby hasn’t been fucked properly in a while, has she?”

You’re at a loss for words at every drag and push. Regardless of you wanting to speak, no words seem to make its way out. Jaehyun narrows his eyes at you, dark grin and a menacing taunt in his low voice. A chuckle begins his sentence, “I know… it’s hard to talk when you feel so good right, buttercup? I can feel you getting more excited down there.”

Placing your legs around his waist, he leans down over you. His sneaky hand travels up your torso, giving your boobs a light squeeze through your shirt. Then, he wraps his hand around your neck gently and carefully, only applying enough pressure to drive you wild. 

He breaks his rhythm, reverting back to the previous slow pace. Something about the way you feel around him, hot and tight, needy and wet. Jaehyun just loves how your body reacts.

The feeling of soreness occupies your lower half and you’re more than certain it’s going to be rough tomorrow morning. Every thrust is agonizing, yet powerful enough to be felt in your guts. Jaehyun never fails to leave an impression.

Through your moans, you manage to stutter out his name. “Please, harder.” Jaehyun picks you up, hands supporting your butt and pressing your back against your door. Placing your legs down, you’re standing up right facing him with a confused expression at the change of location.

For a brief moment, his lustful glare is warm and friendly. It’s the same look that greets you in the car when he drives you two to campus. It’s the one he often looks at you with across the dinner table, usually accompanied with his robust laughter. Jaehyun looks at you as if he’s only ever seen you.

However, his next words are far from romantic and his hand finds its way to your throat, pinning you up against the cold door. “I want them to hear how good I fuck you.” Them. The rest of your housemates. Knowing that the house is far from soundproof, Jaehyun wants everyone to know how enthusiastic he makes you feel. 

“But--” As you begin to protest, he drives his hips up and nestles into you. His free hand grips your waist steadily as he barely pulls out, fucking you deeper until you feel him at the pit of your stomach. There is no ability to hold back your pleasure, moans just naturally fill the room and bounce off every wall.

“Cum for me, I know you’re close.” Jaehyun has no intentions to stop, the feeling of both releases being at the tip of your tongues. “Be the good girl that you are and cum for me.”

The small bubble inside of you is ready to burst. Jaehyun sucks on his fingers to coat them with saliva and reaches down to stroke at your clit. Like a switch, your internal light bulb explodes and every spark of electricity fuels your every vein. 

Your orgasm electrifies you, causing every limb to shake uncontrollably and sporadically. Jaehyun keeps thrusting up, helping you ride out the intensity of your high. 

“There you go, baby.” A small kiss on your shoulder, he pulls out and the emptiness is felt immediately. Getting on your knees, you take his cock in your mouth to help him finish. He rests his fists on the door, hovering over you as his abs flex beautifully under the fluorescent light. Hollowing out your cheeks, your throat invites him deeper and this causes him to mindlessly thrust into your mouth. 

Jaehyun sounds breathy above you, whining about how close he is to cumming. Silence in the room has been replaced with his heavy pants and soft groans, the sound of suckling and slick saliva droning out anything else.

“Fuck, y/n.” He says, as he holds your cheek in his palm and maintains eye contact with you through his brown locks. The view of his dick being swallowed up in your mouth is more than enough to drive him to his edge, strings of cum coating the back of your throat from his release. The saltiness immediately hits your palette.

Jaehyun tosses his head back until the satisfaction dissipates. Slowly pulling himself out, he moves quickly to find you a tissue. For a moment, neither one of you speak as he silently dresses himself and you wipe the remaining spit off of your lips.

He helps you up from the floor, lightly dusting off your bare knees for you. And he says something to break the slightly awkward atmosphere, “are you kicking me out like you do with the rest of your hookups?” Jaehyun laughs, wide smile and dimples deep in his soft cheeks. The glow in his skin radiates in the dimness, he’s a sight that’s too difficult to look away from.

“Did you want to stay?” Tossing on a pair of fresh underwear and pajama shorts, you have a vague memory of Jaehyun holding you after your first fuck together. 

Though Jaehyun is your friend before anything else, he responds like every other hookup unsure about the next steps. He shrugs, turning around and tapping his back for you to hop on. “I’ll take you to the bathroom to wash up.” 

Jumping on his back and wrapping your arms around his neck, he carries you down the hall to the shared bathroom. “You didn’t exactly answer my question.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, knowing how embarrassed you are going to be the next morning when facing the rest of your housemates.

“I know you’re just going to come into my room anyways, right?” He sets you down and the door to the bathroom swings open to reveal an equally surprised Haechan. 

“Shit, you two scared me.” The dramatic boy rests a hand on his chest to calm his startled heart. “You might want to air out the bathroom before doing anything in there.” Jaehyun and Haechan share a laugh as you groan, irritated by the putrid fumes that cursed the poorly ventilated bathroom.

“You’re so gross.” You say, punching Haechan jokingly on the arm.

“Says you.” Haechan pauses to poke at Jaehyun’s bare chest, “and you. We are never playing Truth or Dare ever again.” 

“Don’t hate the players, hate the game bro.” Jaehyun snickers.

Haechan pays no more attention to the two of you, back turned and hurrying into his dark room. “I do hate the game now!” He yells in a whisper, shutting his door to end the conversation. You sigh out of relief that Haechan didn’t press for more details or jokes.

Housemates, you never know what adventures you’d run into with them. Nonetheless, you don’t mind and getting to see a shirtless Jaehyun parade around the house is always a treat.

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing | drabble i. | m

WARNINGS. jealous jk, jk's gf is hot and he's not the only one who thinks that, jimin and tae as instigators, i swear jimin and jk love each other, fucking in public spaces aka a car in a parking lot, jk luvs his gf, appearance of perpetrator jin!

NOTE. i missed this couple 🥺oc is living her hot girl summer life and jk does nawt know how to deal with it Lol. hope u enjoy loves!!!!

WORDS. 3k+

“I’m okay,” Jungkook murmurs, eyes fluttering shut as he repeats his own personal mantra. “I’m good. I’m fine—I’m chill. Chillest person ever. I’m good—”

“He’s not okay,” Taehyung snickers.

Jungkook blocks the negativity out, purposefully and intentionally. Nothing could ruin his day—not on his watch, especially as the sun shines over bodies across the beach while the waves break into beautiful fragments that he’s yearning to dip his feet into.

Personal affirmations came first.

“I’m good, I’m fine, I’m okay,” he chants like a crazy person, definitely earning some form of side-eye from the people next to him but he can’t be bothered. Another person thinking that he was insane wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to him—not when—

“You should open your eyes,��� Jimin says, “How are you going to fight them if you don’t know thy enemy?”

Immediately, Jungkook’s peace is disturbed by the mouth of Park Jimin, who painfully reminds him of why he’s got into the entire personal mantra and affirmation thing. He used to think it was redundant, unnecessary. How could the universe return your wishes just as you’ve uttered them into the atmosphere? It didn’t seem logical to him.

But right now, that didn’t matter—not when he had bigger things to be worried about.

“Don’t disturb my peace,” Jungkook snaps.

“They did it first,” Jimin retorts, cocking his head towards the flock of people at a certain part of the beach, specifically towards where the water meets the shore.

Jungkook’s eye twitches. His peace is disrupted, his happiness is compromised and it’s all Park Jimin’s fault. He spent a good amount of time getting into his zone, reaffirming himself that he was in fact, fine, good—he was okay! But now, he feels all his resolve dissolve when he realises he can’t even see the main thing that was responsible for his dilemmas.

“You’d think a celebrity was on this beach,” Taehyung snorts.

“Not helping,” Jungkook says dryly.

“So isn’t your crazy person chanting,” Jimin points out, “but yet, here we are—listening to you reciting your own version of a biblical verse.”

“I’m fine,” Jungkook grits for the umpteenth time, and no less is his assertions any more convincing than it was a moment ago. The flicker of his irises towards to crowd is enough to prove that fact. “I’m just enjoying my day at the beach with my friends and my girlfriend.”

“See, there are two false statements in that,” Taehyung tilts his head downwards, offering a smug smirk that Jungkook wishes he could shove into the sand beneath him. “You’re definitely not enjoying this because I can see the veins protruding out of your neck at how hard you’re clenching your jaw, and”—the older boy makes the effort to taunt Jungkook further by letting out a low whistle the moment the crowd seems to grow slightly bigger—“you’re partially right about the friend part. Your girlfriend though … where is she?”

I’m good. I’m okay. I’m cool—

“Oblivious, as usual,” Jimin sighs, plopping back onto the beach towel beneath him while shooting Jungkook a pointed stare. “It’d be sad if you only called her your girlfriend for six months when you’ve been in love with her for seven years.”

“Okay that’s it. I’m going there,” Jungkook declares, huffing as he pushes himself off the ground while Jimin makes an effort to grab at his ankle, halting the younger boy from causing any damage and potentially getting them banned from ever returning.

“Not with that temper you aren’t,” Jimin snaps, “Sit your ass down. God. Can’t you take a joke?”

“A joke?” Jungkook splutters, abhorred. “You literally just said she’s going to break up with me!”

“I said that it’d be sad if—”

“Same fucking difference,” he hisses, rubbing a hand across his face before he kicks Jimin’s petty grip off his ankle while levelling him with a menacing glare. Jungkook’s eyes slowly drift to the side where you finally enter his vision, still smiling like the soft and sweet person you were as you help Namjoon with whatever crab hunting mission he had.

See, Jungkook’s mature enough to know that you and Namjoon were good friends, great ones, even. The two of you were smart and clicked well, and if anything, Jungkook was more envious of the fact that the two of you shared such a wholesome and meaningful friendship than anything else.

The fact that Namjoon used to have feelings for you didn’t bother Jungkook anymore, not when he knew where your heart truly laid. He also trusted Namjoon with his entire life and his firstborns (not that he’d ever tell you that, and God—did he hope that day would eventually come when it came to you). But still, Jungkook was mature—he did some growing up, and he was proud of that.

But Jungkook’s human, a flawed, ever-learning and constantly improving human. A human who’s crazy in love with his pretty girlfriend that he’s longed for years—and a human who isn’t blind. A human who can’t ignore the fact that, apparently, he wasn’t the only person that was trying to keep himself in check at how stunning you were. Every day—and especially today, with how your dainty yellow bikini drapes over the curves of your body.

Jungkook nearly cries. Yellow was his favourite colour. You wore it for him.

Not for—

“Maybe you should head over,” Taehyung murmurs, snapping Jungkook out of his love-filled mind as his eyes clear, immediately catching what his friend was referring to.

Some dude. Talking to you. Smiling at you like you carried all the answers to all the world problems as you giggle a tune comparable to birds chirping. Maybe Jungkook was exaggerating but it always sounded like you were singing his favourite song even if you were just explaining economical concepts to him like a soothing e-book.

“God, why couldn’t she have been ugly,” Jungkook groans.

“You wouldn’t have dated her otherwise,” Jimin retorts.

Jungkook gawks, affronted as he gives his two friends a scandalised expression as he places his hands over his chest to indicate the offence he took to that statement.

“I’m not superficial,” he huffs, “I fell in love with her because of her—��

“Personality, yada yada,” Jimin mocks him in a lower tune that has Jungkook glaring at him. “Yeah, okay. But don’t tell me that her being pretty doesn’t help you bust a nut every once in a while.”

Jungkook flushes.

“Well, yeah, but I’m her boyfriend—”

“Thank you for reminding me that you are in fact, still a boy,” Jimin rolls his eyes, “Men. Mansplaining everything, really.”

Jungkook’s jaw slackens as his eyes briefly land on Taehyung’s figure who doesn’t look too bothered with how the conversation turned out as he shrugs in response.

“How about you do the typical manly thing of being a jealous prick and go over there and stomp over all her fan club members,” Jimin says sarcastically, resting his arm over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

There’s a brief rustle from where the sand meets the towel, and a relatively long period of silence while the only thing that permeates the air is the sound of waves with laughter coming from a family a distance away.

“He did exactly that, didn’t he.”

“You need to stop giving him ideas,” Taehyung sighs, plopping a grape into his mouth before occupying the space next to his friend. “Should we find another beach to frequent?”

“Really?” you laugh, “That’s so cool! I’m actually planning on landing an apprenticeship there over the summer.”

“Oh?” The man is leaning way too close to you for comfort, but you’re unfazed. Jungkook doesn’t even want to know where the hell Namjoon had gone, leaving you with this broad-shouldered, terrifyingly handsome man. “I could definitely put a good word in for you if you’d like.”

You beam, appreciative rather than brazen. But Jungkook thinks the man doesn’t know that.

“I don’t think I can accept that, Seokjin.”

And of course, you knew his name.

“Why not?” Seokjin smirks, and Jungkook knows that it’s definitely done him justice in other situations. “For a beautiful—”

“____,” he interjects, smoothly (or not quite) sliding next to you as his arms wrap around your waist before his glare rests on the man before him, who looks both shocked and unbothered at his appearance. “Who’s this?”

You jump slightly at Jungkook’s arrival but relax when you realise that it was just him and not some other beach weirdo.

“Jungkook, this is Seokjin! He actually attended our university—”

“Really,” he says dryly, “That’s nice.”

“Is this your …?” Seokjin looks Jungkook up and down before settling with a rather unimpressed look. “Do seniors usually bring their shadows out for playdates?”

Your eyes widen at his patronising tone, and before can even think to correct him with a tilted frown, Jungkook’s fingers dig into your waist, a precursor to his jaw that clenches while he engages in his own version of a staredown with the man before you.

“Boyfriend.”

Seokjin raises a brow.

“Me,” Jungkook blinks, unnerved and quite frankly, tired. He’s crossed this bridge enough times, and it’s always the same. Some older dude who thought that you were doing charity work by having Jungkook tag along with like some puny little brother. “I’m her boyfriend.”

“Jungkook—” you start, softly reaching to grip his arm.

“Interesting,” Seokjin says offhandedly and Jungkook knows it’s anything but. “Well, my offer still stands.”

He’s directing it to you as you peer up at him with your notoriously innocent eyes. Jungkook hates that this douche is still unaffected by his blatant declaration of the fact that you were—taken.

“I—that’s fine, Seokjin,” you say softly, lips curling into a thankful smile before he nods.

The look he sends Jungkook is nothing short of unimpressed, and Jungkook’s thinking of clamming the dude into the sand and quite literally, bury the hatchet with him. Sure, he was handsome and broad, and undoubtedly ripped—but Jungkook trained to benchpress twice his weight so he could beat up assholes who tried to hit on his girlfriend.

Right before he leaves, Jungkook calls for his name—intentionally calling him Seokmin—noting the way his face drops into a scowl.

“You’re not her type.”

He scoffs.

“And you are?” he throws back, brows raised as a challenge.

“That’s why I get to hold her and you’re walking away.”

With that, Seokjin doesn’t bother responding to Jungkook, especially in the way that you gawk at your boyfriend’s blatant warning to the older man.

He titters off, and it’s effectively just you and Jungkook standing by the shore while you briefly see the way Namjoon stutters before deciding to return to where Jimin and Taehyung lays.

Jungkook’s still seething in his rage, clenching and unclenching his fists even though he got the last word. It wasn’t that he thought you’d elope with Seokjin and leave him—he trusted you wholeheartedly and vice versa. He knew you loved him and so did he.

It had more to do with the fact that Seokjin saw you, and eventually, him—and thought that Jungkook wasn’t fit to be your boyfriend. That he saw a gorgeous girl on the beach and expected her to be single, and if not—to be with a boyfriend that had his shit together and not … not Jungkook.

“Jungkook?” you say quietly, tugging at his elbow while you peer up at him with wide and apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry.”

It’s no good, the fact that you’re apologising. As if you were responsible for his insecurities when you’ve done nothing but shower him with love and support ever since the two of you started officially dating.

“Don’t apologise,” he says stiffly, though his heart isn’t angry—he can’t help the way his words get out. “It’s not your fault.”

“But—”

“If you apologise then you’re gonna piss me off, baby,” he says lightly, peering you down with a small smirk as your eyes widen.

“I—okay,” you say weakly, and before he knows it, you’re intertwining your fingers with his, eyes suddenly twinkling in a way he’s grown all too familiar with.

“You have the keys?” he murmurs softly.

You nod, blind and in love as you sigh.

“Take care of me?” you ask sweetly, and Jungkook forgets all about Seokjin when he has you right in front of him.

“O-Oh, fuck—Jungkook—ngh—”

Maybe Jungkook really was a crazy person, but he’d argue that you were equally as crazy to oblige to indulge in his lewd fantasies. He was crazy, for you and your cunt that was like nirvana, and it’s proven further when he fucks into you at a brutal pace, uncaring whether or not the car shakes with the exertion of the activities that were taking place in it.

It could be the fact that he had a decade worth of fantasies to play out, but he knows that he plays a huge part in opening your sexual nature and he couldn’t be happier about it, especially when you unabashedly throw your head onto your chest, whimpering with the dirty squelches of his thrusts that echo in the vehicle.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he growls, hand wrapping around the back of your neck to force your glassy eyes to look at him.

The look on your face is enough to get Jungkook even more riled up, your flushed cheeks and swollen lips while you nod your head manically, crazy—and his.

“Y-Yours,” you whimper, and just about then, Jungkook brings your hips down with his free hand and meets you with a sharp thrust that has your mouth dropping open and your face scrunched up in pleasure. “F-Fuck, J-Jungkook.”

“No one gets to fuck you like this,” he hisses, pressing a hot kiss to your neck as you whine, hips involuntarily swivelling to meet his fast pace. The car is shaking and it’s all too risky, Jungkook knows that—but his rationale is clouded with the antagonising face of Seokjin. “No one gets to see you like this. Only I do.”

“Y-Yes!” you sob, clutching onto him as he feels your pussy tighten viciously around him, the walls of your inner linings spasming as Jungkook hisses at the feeling. “Only you K-Kook. Only ever want you.”

Jungkook believes you, especially when you desperately hold onto him as he feels himself slowly reach the edge. He knows you are too, especially when your whines get higher in pitch, and your tugs against his shoulders get tighter. He knows because he’s learnt about your body as your boyfriend—and he’s the only person that will ever get to have you like this.

The thought, paired along with the risk of your situation only fuels his determination to get you off, his strong arms immediately wrapping around you to root you into place as he shoves his cock deeper into you.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he croons as you mewl in pleasure, breathless whines turning more desperate as your eyes flutter shut. “You wanna show me how much you want me?”

You nod manically, your pussy fluttering around his length as he grunts in exertion.

“G-Gonna—pleasedon’tstop—fuck, I-I’m cumming—!” you cry, tugging your face into the crook of his neck as Jungkook bites his lips in focus, all ready to accept your hot pleasure and his own.

“Come for me,” he encourages, lips hovering over your earlobe as you obey his orders, head thrown back as he watches your mouth drop wider and your eyes roll to the back of your head, pussy tightening around his length.

Jungkook thinks you’re beautiful. On days where you don’t feel like you do, but he may be biased to say that he thinks you look absolutely stunning for him like this. When he knows that he’s the one responsible for your reddened cheeks, the way you so desperately cling onto him whenever you’d orgasm (the only person that would ever know this fact about you), and the way that you’re left breathless, satiated and with that hazed expression after his resolute efforts.

Jungkook cums shortly after, with those exact thoughts plaguing his mind. He was so whipped. He really only had to think of you and he would get hard, and having you right above him, soft and warm with your arms draped loosely over his form made his heart all mushy and soft despite the way his cock stands erect.

You mewl in oversensitivity although you don’t complain. You never do, whenever Jungkook cums after you. Even now, when Jungkook comes down from his high with pants of his own, his own mind-clearing while his cock softens in you—you remain patient. Patient like the ever-loving, wonderful girlfriend that you were—one that Jungkook wasn’t sure he deserved.

“Wow,” you giggle, forehead resting against his as you return from your own post-orgasmic bliss. “I can’t believe I let you fuck me in a parking lot.”

Jungkook flushes, reality sinking in when he realised that the two of you weren’t hidden from plain sight. While the idea of being caught was definitely arousing, Jungkook knew he wasn’t too keen on having anyone see you delirious, even if it was all for him. He was lucky enough that your bikini top remained on the entire time, but both your sweaty bodies were enough of a dead giveaway.

“I just,” Jungkook tries to explain, words slurring in embarrassment as you raise a brow at him. “You look really pretty today.”

You stare at his forlorn expression as if admitting that pained him. Jungkook feels slightly embarrassed at how he reacted, and if you notice this, you don’t point it out—yet.

“Wore this for you,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to the mole under his lip. Jungkook’s heart soars at your admission even if he knew that. “You know it’s only for you, right?”

Your question is purposeful and Jungkook shamefully looks to his lap, and even then—you’re still connected. He slowly pulls out, wincing when his cum threatens to pool out of your pussy, but before he can pretend to clean you up, you’re putting your bikini bottoms back in place and clamping your hands over his cheeks so that he’d look at you.

“Jungkook,” you say sternly.

He sighs.

“Yes,” he groans, feeling a lot like a child who’s being berated. “I just—God. He was such a prick.”

“I know,” you say gently, fingers combing through his hair while he melts into your touch. “There are a lot of pricks out there, but you know that I only love you, right?”

Your confession is the same as the one you’ve made six months ago, and just last night before the two of you fell asleep—but it’s a confession that Jungkook never grows tired of.

“I know,” he mumbles as you giggle at him. “It’s just that … he really thought he had a chance with you, and when he saw me it was like—”

You frown, finger pressed against his lips to stop his rambling as he peers up at you with doe-eyes.

“None of that,” you chide lightly, “I don’t care what people think. The only person I care about is you, and no one will change that, okay?”

Jungkook feels himself relax into your touch, especially when you lean forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss that isn’t set to lead anywhere. He remembers. He remembers the times where you were unsure and all too worried of the words of others—and here you were, with him and with your gentle and loving soul, the embodiment of comfort as you tell him the words he’s always known but needs to be reminded of.

“I love you,” he says quietly as you grin widely at him, “Sorry for—you know.”

You roll your eyes, lifting your leg to get off his lap as you wince at the cum that threatens to escape your lips.

“I mean, it was kind of hot,” you shrug with a small smirk.

“God, I’ve created a monster,” Jungkook snorts, looking over at you when you shoot him a devious grin.

“You love it,” you throw back cheekily, leaning into his shoulder as he wraps an arm around you with a sigh.

He does. And he knows that he’s the only one that you’ll love back.

[hereforhalstead]

Love Languages

*Gif not mine, credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader.

• Requested: No.

• Warnings: Pure fluff besties

• Summary: A look into your relationship with Jay and the love languages you portray.

• Words: 1400.

• A/N : I’ll be honest, I just wanted to write some straight fluff because I was craving soft Jay and came up with this ramble/long drabble. No plot or real thought went into this I just started typing and let myself run away with it... One to try and put a smile on my besties face @halsteadlover ily sis😌

Hope you enjoy!

***

When it came to love languages, you and Jay were quick to work out what the other liked. Your love language being gift giving and his being touch and affirmation, the pair went hand in hand with the both of you being more than happy with the way affection was shown in the relationship. 

You were constantly picking things up for Jay if you’d see something that reminded you of him or simply something you know he’d like. A shirt of his favourite american football team, a new pair of sunglasses as he’d broken his others a few weeks before or a cheeky guesture of a new pair of grey joggers as he moans you constantly steal his. At this point, he was always on your mind so you could see a bottle of water and be taken back to the time where you’d seen him pick up the same one at a gas station on route to work. Maybe you’d pass someone in the street and get a whiff of their cologne and be reminded of the many mornings it would be the first thing you smelt as you’re awoken to soft kisses being pressed into your skin as he engulfs you with his arms within the imprinted sheets.

It didn’t matter how big or small it was, you wanted to show your affection by proving to him how often you thought of him, luckily this perfectly matched his affirmation desires so you were more than happy to ablige. Something so small as a cute keyring you picked up on vacation as it had a certain phrase on it that caused him to flash through your mind. He would instantly attach to his keys so whenever he looked at it he thought about how you’d gone out of your way to buy it for him, and how he must’ve been in your thoughts, it meant alot to him. You’d even bought him an ice scraper for his truck as he was constantly moaning he didn’t have one and felt bad about always borrowing yours and to this day he still uses it, even though it’s in a pretty worse for wear state he still can’t bring himself to get a new one as it wouldn’t give him that little boost of serotonin to picture you strolling through the store and the smile on your face as you took it to the checkout. 

At first, you felt you were being over the top with the words of affirmation towards Jay. Did he really need to hear you tell him how much you love him, multiple times a day? Surely he knows by now and didn’t need you to tell him this much but he basked in your expressions and was constantly looking forward to the next time the words he craved fell from your lips. 

'I’m so glad you made it home safe’

‘Did I tell you how much I love when you cook for me, baby?’

‘I’m so proud of you, Jay’

‘Thank you for everything you do for me’ 

The glowing feeling you get to see the heat creep to his cheeks, the doting looks he would give you and the way his grip on you would tighten at the smallest of affirmations confirmed how much he loved to hear it. He wouldn’t even have to verbally respond, a simple kiss to your temple or a content hum would be enough to acknoweldge that you knew exactly what he wanted and needed to hear.

His love language of touch was something you had to get used to. Jay was your first proper boyfriend, you’d dated on and off in the past but he was the only one who’s stuck around. He on the other hand, had more expeirence in the dating world so seemed to know more about it than you and with that came more things that just felt natural to him, but was a shock to your system. 

He without a doubt Jay had to have his hands on you in some way, these desires varied depending on the situation you were in and what he felt was necessary. In public his hand would be pressed into your lower back as he guides you through a crowded place, his grip falling to your waist as you stood next to him in a que at the mall or his hand finding yours as you strolled along the street just to name a few.

His lips would press into your temple as you rested your head on his shoulder, the way he runs his fingertips up and down your back whilst you lean into him. Planting a soft kiss to the back of your neck as he creeps up on you pouring yourself a glass of water in the morning, him pulling you into him to place a chaste kiss to your lips just to show you his love took you by surprise. 

You’d never had someone be so consumed by you that they needed to almost be a part of you but you loved it. Behind closed doors he was equally as attentive, fingernails grazing your arm as you lounge around watching a film, his hands finding their way on you as you cuddle into him. He would abscentmindidly fiddle with the ends of your hair as he concentrated on the TV, his mind fully on the screen but you were so much his main prioroty that he didn’t have to even think about it.

Even in his sleep, he needed you close to him, you’d fall asleep on the edge of the bed and wake up lying of his chest with the soft grazing of his fingernails down your spine, zero complaints but also no memory of how you got there. If he opened his eyes and he wasn’t holding you in some way, he’d automatically shift to intertwine your bodies under the sheets to sooth himself back to sleep. 

If he was jealous, you’d know about it in a matter of seconds. The intenstity of his grip on you would tell you someone else was eyeing you up, before you got to see for yourself. The way he would pull you onto his lap and wrap his arm tightly round you to keep you in place. How he’d pull you inbetween his legs as he sits at the bar in Molly’s, grabbing at your waist as he settles you in front of him. Even so much as a heated kiss being placed upon you to firmly deter the eyes of another man wasn’t unheard of and again you had zero complaints. 

Jay would find it adorable in the beginning of your relationship, noticing the way you’d glance down as he reached for your hand while you walked, trying to hide the smile that was spreading on your face. The chills you would get as he tangled his hands in your hair, the little quips you’d make at his sudden forms of intimacy were what spurred him on more. He loved the effect he had on you and moreover, he loved that you’d grown accustom to his love languages without a shadow of a doubt and were always there to accept them.

The little giggles you gave out as he pinned you onto the sofa to cover your face in light kisses, him digging his fingers into your sides as you were concentrating on something to make you jump. Reaching to tuck a piece of stray hair behind your ear had him always craving more as you leant into his touch. 

People around you loved to comment on it too. Will would always dig at Jay whenever you were together with the familiar comment of ‘Will you just leave her alone for two seconds man’ as Jay responded with a scowl. He hated people telling him what to do and especially when it came to you, if anything it would give him more motivation to hold you closer. Adam would often joke about how if you needed to find Jay, just to look for you as you he would ‘follow you round like a lost puppy’, to others they thought it was cringey and annoying but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You were his weakness, he wore it like a badge of honor and he wanted everyone to know.

***

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[giorno-plays-piano]

Vicious

Part II

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, all characters are adults.

Words: 1891.

Part I

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

P.S. To avoid any confusion, I changed the name Savages -> Vicious.

________________________

The next day you spent doubting your own decisions. Was it really wise to leave everything to Steve? How could he find those students all by himself and deal with your problem? Could he really stop them from acting like that? You thought once again it would be so much easier to ask for a transfer, but you had already given him your word to meet him today at 5. It would be very inappropriate not to come when he was trying to help you.

When the time came, you were sneaking in the student council room as if you were some petty thief. You were afraid people would start talking: if everybody knew who stole your things, they would understand you came to Steve for help like a little girl. It was embarrassing - even in a situation like this. Besides, somebody could be following you since at 5 pm the academy was almost empty.

By the time you reached the right door, you heart was beating as if you had just run a marathon. You really, really hoped Steve found some solution, and you wouldn’t have to be humiliated by the student advisor for wanting to leave the school.

Opening the door, you saw a couple of students on the sofa and quickly stepped away, afraid the student council was still having a meeting, “Ugh, sorry!”

“Come in, please,” Steve said calmly behind the door, and you shyly got in again, watching four other guys staring at you with interest. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“What, they too?” You were so perplexed by his words you forgot your manners, speaking of others as if they weren’t in the same room. “I’m sorry, I mean, I didn’t know you were involved.”

Wait, were they the ones who stole your things? Did Steve bring them here for you?

“No need to be so nervous.” One of them, a guy with long, jet black hair forming waves around his shoulders told you, motioning you to come closer and sit in one of the chairs opposing the sofa where he sat. “We’re here to help you.”

You remembered his name was Loki. A mathematic genius, he was considered one of the top students of the academy.

“That’s right! Come, come!” Seeing Peter among others was surprising, but his smiling face made you calm down a little, and you smiled at him in return. 

No, they weren’t those guys who stole your underwear, for sure. Apparently, Steve asked them to join you because they knew something and could give you a hand in finding those bastards.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me.” Feeling a little self-conscious among five different men you'd barely known, you landed on one of the chairs and saw that the other two were Bucky and a captain of the academy’s basketball team, Thor. “Did you find out anything?”

“Yes,” Steve said with a loud sigh, “I know exactly who they are. I can hand them over to the school’s officials and get them expelled by tomorrow, but that’s not the real issue here.”

You felt the chills ran up your back. What did he mean by the real issue?

“Is there something else?”

When you saw Loki smirking at you, you suddenly realized you were among five strong men in the student council room on the fifth floor where most classrooms were already empty. If you screamed, nobody would even hear you.

“Stop it.” Bucky’s angry voice cut through the silence, and you saw him literally burning a hole in Loki’s face. “Don’t make her scared, freak.”

Obviously, he wanted to say something offensive to Barnes in return, but Steve silenced them both with his icy glare. Loki sent him an innocent smile while Bucky snorted and rolled his eyes in irritation. It felt like they were in the middle of some school play, and you bit down on your lower lip, having a feeling something was going horribly wrong.

“The thing is, even if we got those ones expelled, it probably won’t stop the others from doing something similar.” Steve leaned up against a desk with his arms crossed over his chest. “I feel terrible admitting it, but many of our students are completely wild. I’m afraid they might keep harassing you.”

“Oh.”

You averted your eyes, realizing your attempts to find a solution were futile. Obviously, Steve could do nothing - he wasn’t a knight in shining armor, ready to protect you day and night from those delinquents who followed you everywhere. As you thought before, the one thing that could help here was leaving the school for good.

Shit, you didn’t know how to explain it to your family, Even your friends thought it was too bizarre to be true and laughed at your worries, saying you probably lost your things yourself. You would have to find a better excuse for a transfer in the middle of the semester.

“Well, anyway, thank you for trying,” you nodded and smiled apologetically at him as if it were your fault, “tomorrow I will talk to the student advisor about my transfer. Sorry for the trouble!”

“I don’t think it’s real to get transferred by now. It’s passed all the deadlines.” Shaking his head, Bucky raised his voice, and you felt suffocating.

Apparently, you would really have to skip a whole year of school. Explaining everything to your family, looking for some garbage job to have enough money to rent a room and pay your bills... Fantastic.

“You don’t have to do that. I’ve found another way.” 

Immediately, you raised your head, your pupils dilating.

“You see, the reason they are doing that is because you have no one to protect you. They know the administration won’t take it seriously because they’re a bunch of old misogynists, and you also have no means of protecting yourself. It would be better if you started dating someone, someone strong enough to make these guys back down.”

Steve looked deadly serious for someone saying such nonsense. A boyfriend? Now? Was he for real? Did he think you'd be using someone like your personal shield? Besides, even if you chose the strongest guy at school, it didn’t mean he would be stronger if several people attacked him.

But when you shared your thoughts with Steve, you saw others smiling at you as if they knew you would say that, and you felt uneasy.

“That’s true. That’s why you need more than one boyfriend.”

“What do you mean? How can somebody have more than one boyfriend?" Puzzled, you stared at him wide-eyed as if he said something stupid.

What on Earth did he mean by that? Were you to have your own squad of bodyguards at all times while you were in the academy? This was so foolish you couldn't believe someone like Steve said it out loud.

But then you caught glances of five men in the room and forgot how to breathe for a second. They weren't serious, were they? Steve didn't assemble all these guys here to make them into your boyfriends. It was preposterous even thinking of that, right?

Right?

"Please tell me it's not what I think it is." You muttered, crossing your arms over your chest as if trying to protect yourself.

"Why are you being so nervous?" Baring his teeth, Loki smiled at you. "Some other girl would be happy if five men were to be her boyfriends."

"It's a joke, right? You're all joking."

You hoped to see any of them laughing and nodding their heads, saying they simply wanted to cheer you up, but all you saw was a guilty expression on the faces of Bucky and Thor and the excitement of others. They really gathered here to offer you this.

"All of us here," Steve looked upon others, becoming a little displeased when his gaze fell upon smiling Peter, "are perfectly capable of helping you. If each of us were to accompany you one day a week, others won't be so brave. I'm sure they will no longer be a nuisance to you if they know what we can do to them."

There was something very dark in the way Steve said that, and for a couple of seconds you weren't sure whether you have to be more scared of him rather than those who was stealing your things.

"But it would be very uncomfortable for everyone, wouldn't it? I mean, going with me everywhere, not using your own time as you'd like. And, well, surely, others will see that we won't act like a real couple, so they might still keep harassing me. I don't think it would work."

Apparently, Loki was bored with this talk, you thought as you heard him clicking his tongue in annoyance.

"Then don't pretend. Act like a real girlfriend. Kiss in public, hug, go to the cinema together, what else girls do?"

"Wait, you mean, with ALL of you?"

"Yeah? Do you think anyone gonna be against it?"

You very much hoped they would be. Being followed by someone like your bodyguard was one thing, but having a real boyfriend was very different. Did they really want to pretend to be lovey-dovey with you? Act like you were close to them?

Oh. Of course, they would. They belonged to the same kind of touch-starved barbaric men they were trying to protect you from. They would do all those things to you, too.

You realized you were crying only when Peter flew off his seat in a hurry and squatted down beside you, taking your shaking hands in warm his.

"Please, don't cry. Nobody's gonna force you into doing anything, I promise. You will only do things you're comfortable with, ok?" Handing you his pearly white handkerchief, he smiled to comfort you. "No one of us gonna say anything."

"And if she starts dating one of us for real? What's then?" It was Loki again, cocking his head to the side and obviously provoking Peter to yell at him.

"We'll be ok with that, too."

The silence felt heavy. As you opened your eyes, Peter's handkerchief in your hands, you realized it was Thor who spoke for the first time, and the way he looked at you softly made you feel a little better. Despite the fact you knew little of him, for some reason, it felt like you would be safe with him - certainly safer than with Loki.

"Naturally, if any of us will bring you discomfort or do something unacceptable, you need to let us all know, and we'll decide what to do with that person." Raising his voice, the head of the student council made everyone to turn their head to him. "We will be meeting here, in this room, if anything happens. Each of us will give you our phone numbers. We will also make a schedule who accompanies you every day of the week."

It seemed he no longer asked for your opinion if you even wanted it to happen.

__________

"Bucky will be with you on Mondays, Loki on Tuesdays. Wednesdays are Thor's, on Thursdays Peter will be following you, and on Fridays it will be me going with you. Of course, if you need any of us to watch over you on weekends, feel free to contact whoever of us you like more."

Part III

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @stupendouslovegarden

[the-bugs-under-ur-skin]

Yandere Sunny, Basil and Mari w an affectionate reader HCs - Omori

nghgggggh so cute :,) also sorry to the one person who asked for clumsy and affectionate, i just didn’t think there needed to be two different posts about it. thank you guys sooo much! i’m so glad you like my headcannons!!

[yandere Sunny x reader]

-Sunny is one of the most touch-starved of the group

-affection was always a must for him, so you being extra affectionate on your own is basically heaven for him

-he gets very flustered by the sudden affection from you but never pulls away, just soaking it all in with a red face

-he’ll let you give any affections you want at any place

-he doesn’t care about other people and would be able to intimidate them if the did try to bother both of you

-Sunny is very happy that you’re okay with pda, and can’t help but have a proud smirk on his face whenever he catches people staring at the two of you

-he also finds the texts adorable

-he always gets a little blush in his cheeks whenever he gets the notification that you’ve texted him

-he has trouble falling asleep and waking up so the gm/gn texts he gets from you actually helps him feel better

-i think he’d be an awkward texter though, so don’t expect much more than a thumbs up emoji or an “ok”

-but please don’t get discouraged by the lackluster responses from him, those texts are some of the best parts of his day

-you’ve spoiled him at this point, he just expects you to shower him in affection and would throw a little tantrum if you were to suddenly stop giving it to him

-and if he throws tantrums just because he doesn’t get enough affection, he’d certainly get upset if you were affectionate with others

-even just hugging one of your friends as a greeting can get him angry

-if you’re ever just cuddling against your friends and wonder why they suddenly seem unnerved, it’s probably because they just noticed Sunny’s intense glare from across the room 

-most of the time if your friend just backs off, he’ll leave them alone (for the most part)

-of course, if they’re persistent than a few cuts should have them back off

-but no matter what, you’re not going to be chatting with those friends for a long while

-and if one of your affections you show to your friends is a kiss, however, it’s going to be more than just a glare and a punch

-like, it’s nice that you made such a nice friend but you’re definitely never going to see that friend again unless you’re going to their funeral

-he wants all of your affection for himself, even if you claim you have “so much love to give to everyone”

-he can handle any affection you throw at him, so don’t start being shy now!

[yandere Basil x reader]

-despite being very shy, Basil would be quite affectionate himself

-he hopes that you’ll let him hang off of you for the rest of time, because that’s all he wants to do

-any affection you give him, he’ll return, albeit shyly

-if you though Basil would absolutely obsess over an affectionate s/o you must be crazy

-it’s the validation he’s always wanted and he gets it through hugs and kisses from his favorite person? he’s perfectly ready!

-honestly, he would mind if you suffocated him from all the affection he gets from you

-he also gets really giddy whenever he receives texts from you

-you constantly texting him will never fail to make him blush; he absolutely adores that he’s on the front of your mind

-you aren’t bothering him at all! he always responds to any of your texts immediately and hopes that you send him even more

-he’ll basically have a meltdown if you suddenly don’t give him a goodnight text as usual

-and Basil will definitely get upset if you’re affectionate with others

-he thought that you were only affectionate with him because he’s special, and your just giving away your valuable attention to just anybody?

-he definitely sits and cries in his room or under a tree or something

-he’s so pitiful, wouldn’t you do anything to stop him from crying?

-Basil just really hopes that you and a friend don’t suddenly start catching feelings for each other 

-an affection s/o would also worsen his tendencies since he’s basically getting praised for being a toxic boyfriend

-not only will he get more clingy, he’ll also get slightly more manipulative

-i mean, since you love affection so much, why not give him some?

-you’re holding hands with someone else? but he thought you loved him! you know... if you want to break up with him you can just say so...

-but, you’re not actually going to do that right? PLEASE don’t do that...

[yandere Mari x reader]

-Mari was affectionate with you right when she started to have some sort of feeling for you

-even if you and her are still technically friends she is absolutely sure that this means you’re both in love

-it just makes sense to her; you’re both always hugging and sometimes even a kiss on the cheek? there’s no way that this isn’t love

-she’ll even talk to her family and friends about you like you’re both dating each other

-and don’t even get me started with the texts

-every time she responds she’s always adding a heart at the end or calling you “honey” or “sweetie”

-she’ll probably send even more texts than you do

-oh, you give her a little good morning text? that’s cute, anyway here’s this two paragraph long message about how lucky she is and how excited she is to see you this morning

-but, whenever you’re affectionate with others, this breaks Mari’s fantasy about you both being in love

-she was so sure you were absolutely dedicated to her and that you would get married to her after you both finally graduate, and you’re giving someone else a hug?

-honestly, even simple affection could ruin her so you being really affectionate with others will send her into despair

-at first, she’s mad at you

-she trusted you and you’re out here snuggling with another classmate? how could you!

-but once you start acting confused on why she’s ignoring you, it starts to click for her

-it was never your fault, it was your friends!

-she’ll apologize to you profusely and then go straight to whoever was “manipulating” you into giving them affection

-so don’t worry, darling! those awful people will finally leave the two of you alone forever!