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thebestsetter · 5 months ago

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Thinking about Isagi Yoichi, the hero of Japan and biggest egoist on the field, being a complete loser when it comes to the girl he likes.

Like, he may insult the opposing team's players (and even his own teammates sometimes!) in the field, but gets all red and stutters when he needs to talk to you.

Isagi Yoichi who is absolutely delusional. If he holds a conversation with you for more than 5 minutes, you can bet he's gonna think about it during THE WHOLE WEEK. His friends can't escape his feelings either: he's always talking about you or associating things with you. Like: "Oh, she would like this!" Or "You guys won't believe it: we talked for almost 10 minutes today!" Please save Hiori and Bachira. They can't take it anymore. (Well, Bachira doesn't really care, but Hiori is really almost losing his shit.)

This absolute dork would listen to love songs while thinking about you and then get all blushy after, hugging a pillow while stuffing his red face on it and everything. And heaven forbids anyone enters his room after you compliment him! He's kicking his feet, screaming, crying and laughing all at the same time. SPECIALLY if it's a compliment regarding his football abilities. Say something along the lines of "That goal today was amazing, Yoichi! It was such a smart play!" and he's melting and thinking about it through the whole month.

Speaking of football, he'd LOVE to see you in his soccer games/practices cheering loudly for him. I mean, he's already absolutely smitten for you, but seeing you there screaming because of his goal or smiling because of a play he made just makes his obsession love for you grow 10 times bigger!!

He'd even ask his mom for advice on what to say to you! She thinks it's cute her little boy is growing up (even though he's already 17), so she tries to help him the best she can. But there's just so much mama can do. He tries to follow her teachings, but, as I said before, always stutters and trips over his words, which makes him feel really stupid and almost give up on love, since it's a "very hard and painful feeling that just hurts people" (his words).

When he finally musters up the courage to ask you out on a date (after a lot of insistence from Hiori, who is just really tired from all of this), he wants it all to go perfect. He has it all pictured in his head: he'll ask you to meet him in the back of the school after extracurricular activities so he can ask you out. He'll have flowers and everything, and then he'll say that speech he spent the last 14 days memorizing. You'll say yes with a smile in you face (he's already blushing just from imagining your smile, he really is down bad) and then you'll live your happilly ever after together.

Spoiler alert: nothing went as planned. First, the letter he wrote asking you to meet him in the back of the school got wet because he accidentally spilt water on it. So, he had to make a half-assed substitute letter to put in your desk.

Second, he forgot soccer leaves people all stinky. So, at the end of practice, he had to choose between taking a shower and showing up all drenched and late and showing up sweaty and smelly. He choose the former, after all, showing up late but presentable is better than showing up early but looking like you got shit on by a racoon.

Third, when he finally got there (you were almost leaving, thank God he caught you just in time!) and apologized for being late, he gave you the flowers. He thought nothing else could go wrong, but things can always get worse than they already are. But I don't blame him for not knowing that things could, in fact, get worse: how was he supposed to guess there were literally bees in the flowers? To get rid of them, he tried to shook the bouquet, but accidentally ended up throwing it at your face. With bees and all.

You screamed. He screamed. He grabbed the bouquet and shoved it away, looking at the ground and wishing it'd just swallow him whole. He messed up his chance, you'd never ever even look at his way again. You hated him, absolutely hated him. You wish he was dead, you were going to change schools just to never see him again, he's the worse person ever-

Huh? What is that sound? You're laughing...? You're seriously laughing?

You laughed. He got confused.

He looked up. You were throwing your head back while wiping away the tears that got out of your eyes. You were clutching your stomach because you were laughing so hard it was starting to hurt.

You laughed. He laughed.

You both looked like maniacs. Lunatics. Laughing alone in the middle of nowhere. You looked crazy he WAS crazy. Crazy for you. Not that you knew it at that time

He then decided to just shoot his shot and finally asked you out, without flowers or memorized speech. He didn't even think you'd accept, he just thought it wouldn't hurt to try.

Imagine his face when you said yes. Even with the shitty proposal and embarassing moments, you said yes. And he was absolutely delighted. You gave him your number so he could text you the details about the date, and he was seriously shaking. I'm being for real, his pupils were blown wide and he was almost crying from happiness.

He went home jumping and skipping from happiness. Now, he wasn't just a loser. He was a loser with a date, so that makes him less loserly (at least that's what he thinks).

You accepting his proposal didn't make him talk less about you. Actually, he was now talking about you more than before, if it's even possible. Hiori felt like killing himself (he was happy for his friend, of course, he just didn't want to admit it).

This fic has a "sequel", it's this one

Masterlist

#loser Isagi holds a special place in my heart #bllk #bllk manga #bllk x reader #blue lock #bllk x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk isagi #isagi yoichi #isagi x you #isagi x reader #blue lock isagi #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff #fluff #isagi fluff

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moonmunson · 1 year ago

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electric touch - eddie munson x reader

summary: eddie hasn't had much luck with dates - not until you.

warnings: ppl being mean to eddie (only for a little bit!) and some discussion on eddie's penchant for kinda being used by the popular girls but there's so much fluff and some kissing at the end

word count: 2.8k

a/n: i started this when speak now tv came out and then completely abandoned it but she's my little brain child

When Eddie was in eighth grade, he spent a week rehearsing the best way to ask a girl out on a date. He practiced in the mirror every day, making sure to sound hopeful, but not desperate, eager, but not pushy. He’d almost given up and asked his Uncle for advice, but in case it didn’t go the way he wanted it to, he didn’t want Wayne to be waiting for an update.

There was a new horror movie premiering in the theater downtown, and he’d heard that scary movies were the best to bring a girl to - because if she got scared, Eddie could put his arm around her and protect her from the fictional monsters.

He never even got the chance to ask her. He’d tried, to be sure. Monday morning of the next week, when he’d worked up enough nerve, he walked up to the group of cheerleaders she was a part of, and didn’t even open his mouth before the group of girls ganged up on him - asking him what he wanted, calling him a freak, telling him to get away from them. Later, the girl he’d been pining after approached him - sans clique - and apologized on behalf of her friends. She didn’t feel the same as them, but she couldn’t ruin her “reputation.” They saw each other in secret for half a year before she got a boyfriend on the basketball team. Typical. It hurt Eddie more than he was comfortable admitting.

Eddie doesn’t love referring to himself as a cynic, but the repetitive cycle of being used by popular girls for a night of fun - fulfilling their dream of sleeping with the town’s resident bad boy before never speaking to him again, exhausted Eddie to the point of declaring that true love was a capitalistic ruse created to sell laboratory made diamonds. It would never work out for him, and he convinced himself that he was okay with that.

For the remainder of high school, Eddie continued to play the part. Rich kids invited him to ragers and tried to weasel their way out of paying full price for his weed, even though they were buying with daddy’s money, not their own. He hooked up with random popular girl after random popular girl, always leaving immediately and feeling like shit after. But at least he was getting laid, right?

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

Now, Eddie is sitting on the couch in his living room, meticulously arranging and rearranging Wayne’s automobile magazines that live untouched on the coffee table. Has there always been this much dust on them? He wasn’t sure, and the thought only offered a momentary distraction before the nerves swept him back into the electric current of anxiety running through his body.

He’d already spent most of the past hour making sure there was no visible trash laying out in the open for you to see. He’d even gone so far as to make his room slightly presentable in case you wanted to go in. He wasn’t expecting anything - quite the opposite, actually. He was sure that you’d see the place he lives, turn around and walk out without giving him a chance, and never speak to him again.

Logically, he knows that this won’t be the case. He knows that Dustin wouldn’t lie to him about your reciprocated interest. He’d spent the entire drive back to Eddie’s trailer for their Hellfire meeting trying to convince him that he saw how giddy his sister had been when she opened the door and saw him standing there. She’d known Eddie was coming to pick her younger brother up, and she’d put on mascara to greet him - as if Eddie truly knows enough about girls to take that as a surefire sign that you were excited to see him. Dustin hears you talking over the phone to your friends about him all the time, and he only shares with Eddie that what you say is positive - not wanting to disclose the nitty gritty. It’s not your fault that the walls of your adjoined rooms are thin, and your friends are loud.

Still, Eddie is nervous. When he gave you his phone number under the assumption that you might want to call to check up on Dustin, he was shocked that you called days after the Hellfire meeting had ended, and Dustin had returned home. So shocked, in fact, that he wasn’t even the one who had answered the phone - Wayne was. When he’d heard the sweet lilt of your voice on the other side of the line, he’d practically shoved his uncle to grab hold of the phone. You sounded unsure saying hello to him - nervous and breathy and a little bit quiet, but not unenthusiastic - and Eddie knew that Dustin had been telling the truth.

Eddie spoke to you for an hour that night before he worked up the nerve to ask if you might want to come over to watch a movie. “No funny business, just the sweet sight of David Bowie in tights that no other man would ever be able to pull off.” You’d giggled - a sound Eddie was determined to hear again - and asked how he knew that Labyrinth was your favorite movie. The truth was that he’d overheard Dustin complaining about how you chose it every time it was your turn to pick for family movie night, but he brushed off the question and said that he just “Had a feeling.”

The sudden appearance of headlights beaming through the trailer window brings Eddie out of his reverie long enough to remember to wipe the dust from his hands onto his jeans. The sound of your car door opening and closing, and the crunch that your shoes make on the gravel pulls Eddie like a siren song from the couch to his trailer door, and the creaking of the wooden steps leading up to said door, has him pulling it open faster than he means to.

You’re a vision of comfort. Of soft things. Of light wash jeans with no rips in them, of cardigans and sweaters and rose perfume. Your fist is raised in the air like you were about to knock, and for a moment, Eddie thinks this whole thing was a mistake.

“Oh-”

“Sorry, I-”

There’s a beat of silence. The energy between the two of you is almost palpable - eyes wide and palms clammy - before he breaks the connection and moves out of the way for you to come in. He knows he can turn on the charm once you’re settled, but this has been the part he’s been dreading the most.

It doesn’t matter to his friends that he lives in a trailer. It doesn’t matter when there are beer bottles on the coffee table or old socks on the couch, he knows the guys won’t care. But as you step in, and your eyes begin to sweep over the small living room, the reality of his economic status has never felt bigger, or made him feel smaller.

As he looks at you though, he notices the soft smile on your face. Taking stock of the collection of hats and mugs lining the walls, of the throw blanket laid over the top of the recliner.

“The uh, the hats and stuff are my Uncle’s.”

“They’re really cool,” his eyes trace your movements as you walk along the edges of the room, arms at your sides, reading the puns and state names embroidered on them. “has he always collected them?”

Eddie makes his way to the couch, and sits - trying to direct his line of sight to the same ones you’re looking at. Trying to put himself in your shoes and guess what you might be thinking, but coming up short.

“Wayne was a trucker for a few years,” you turn to look at him, to pay attention to what he’s saying. Eddie does a lot of stupid shit to get people to look at him, he knows that. It doesn’t matter that the expressions he receives the most often are sneers or ones of annoyance. Exasperation. But you look genuinely interested in what he has to say, and it throws him for a loop. “And then he got stuck with me, so he doesn’t really get to buy new ones anymore.”

“Stuck with you?”

“I mean, yeah, kind of. It’s a long boring story,” Eddie claps his hands together and launches himself up and off of the couch, and you know to stop pushing. “Want the grand tour?”

“Absolutely,” you nod.

“Well, my lady,” you watch from your position by the recliner as he struts to the middle of the living room, puts his arms out horizontally at his sides, and bows deeply, “welcome to Castle Munson. The maid did actually remember to show up tonight.”

“Oh yeah? She did an excellent job,” you huff out a laugh, and Eddie snaps back up to a vertical, a smile on his face that showcases the lines around his mouth.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

“Eddie? Can I ask you something?”

After giving you a short but enthusiastic tour of the main parts of the trailer and presenting you with the array of snacks he'd gotten for the movie, you both settled on the small couch in the living room. You'd had to resist the urge to curl up into his side, and instead curled up into the arm of the couch.

“Anything, sweets. Go for it.”

“How did you really know this was my favorite movie?”

“I’m psychic,” He taps his index finger to his temple a few times. “I didn’t tell you that?”

“Eddie.”

“Y/n.”

“I’m being serious!”

“So am I!” He matches your raised pitch - teasing, but not condescending - and you almost raise your hand to hit him on the shoulder, but you don’t know if you’ve reached that level of familiarity yet.

“You don’t have to answer the question if you don’t want to. I’m not weirded out or anything - just curious. Honestly, I’m kind of like, flattered, I guess? I don’t know.”

Had you overstepped? Eddie’s eyes flit over different things in the room in rapid succession, and he exhales - you can almost see the cogs turning in his head - like he doesn’t know whether to keep joking or offer a moment of true vulnerability. You don’t think the latter comes naturally to him.

“I heard Dustin complaining to Wheeler that you always pick it for family movie night. It seems like the kind of thing you’d like. Very dreamy and hazy, that kinda thing.” Eddie shrugs and looks off to the side, trying and failing to put on an air of nonchalance, but his tinted cheeks suggest otherwise.

“Is that how you think of me? Dreamy and hazy?” You duck your head to try and meet his gaze, and when he turns to look at you, you think it’s the first time you’ve ever truly seen him. The boyish, innocent version of him that he doesn’t allow to rise to the surface all that often. His charm is still there, and bright as ever, but you can see the uncertainty in the way he struggles to keep his eyes on yours.

“Maybe. Is that a problem?”

“Not at all.” The smile that graces your features is so easy and genuine that Eddie has no choice but to beam his own right back at you.

You settle into an easier silence for the remainder of the movie, save for the comments the both of you share. You think it’s especially funny when Eddie compares The Fireys playing volleyball with their own heads to a “Muppet snuff film on acid.” When it’s over, he grabs a few Dr. Peppers from the fridge and asks if you want to smoke with him before you head back home. You decline, because driving while high makes you nervous, but you don’t mind sitting with him for a bit longer.

“Plus, there’s one more room I haven’t given you the tour for, if you’re interested…”

“I get to see the King’s quarters?”

“More like the dungeon,” he gestures to himself, still clad in his Hellfire shirt, “but yeah, totally.”

“Lead the way then, dungeon master.”

He looks behind himself to see if you’re following, and extends his hand back so you can hold onto it. It’s not like you’re gonna get lost - the hallway is less than ten feet, but it gives you an excuse to finally touch without overthinking it. Eddie doesn't care to ask whether the jolt of static he feels when your hands meet for the first time is because of your shuffling socks on the carpet or the nervous current running between the two of you. Guessing by the way you suck in a soft breath - one he could barely hear - he doesn’t think you care either.

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

“All I’m saying is Jareth’s a weirdo for wanting a whiny sixteen year old to be his queen.” Eddie is laying on his stomach, legs bent at the knee and ankles crossed in the air. When you’d entered his room, he’d shown you his favorite things before quickly ushering you to get comfortable on the bed. He said that he needed to have an in depth conversation about the movie you’d just watched.

“The age gap is bad for sure, and she is whiny, I totally get what you’re saying, but-” You’re sitting across from him, elbows resting on your criss-crossed legs.

“But? Y/n. Are you about to defend him?”

“Let me finish!” You giggle and Eddie swears that he can feel it in his chest - another spark.

“I cannot let you finish if you’re about to say what I think you’re gonna say. Morally. Ethically. I cannot let you finish.” In true dramatic Munson fashion, he sweeps his hands in front of him, palm facing out for you to see. He’s almost pouting, lips folded in and corners turned down.

“What I’m trying to say,” you look pointedly at him to see if he’s going to interrupt again, “is that I think that his proposition isn’t so bad when you really think about it.”

“Well now I have to hear your reasoning behind this.”

“Think about it. He’s offering her literally anything she could possibly desire, and all she has to do is love him back.”

“Oh that’s all? I think you’re forgetting the part where he says she has to obey his every whim or whatever the fuck.” Eddie fights the urge to change his tone from teasing to serious - his heart twinging at the idea of making you uncomfortable.

“You don’t think that love is enough? Or that maybe all love has a level of devotion attached to it?”

“I think my idea of love is too fucked to give you a real answer.” He’s refusing to look at you - gaze directed towards his ringed hands fiddling with the metal tab of the soda can, eyebrows furrowed.

“I could fix that, if you wanted - make it all dreamy and hazy for you.”

Eddie can feel the wires in his brain short circuit. In the back of his mind somewhere, he knows that he only has a few seconds to respond before you start to think that maybe you said something wrong, but he can’t seem to reconnect in time. All he manages is an out of breath -

“Yeah?”

“If you wanted, yeah,” you nod, like you’ve decided something, and slowly reach to pull his hand from the soda can - taking it with you and setting it down on the crowded bedside table. “I think you deserve it.”

“Really?” He’s looking at your joined hands, but he doesn’t wrap his fingers around yours. Not yet.

“Yeah, Eddie. Really.”

His fingers finally wrap around yours as you pull him from his position on his stomach to lean over you - rising onto his knees and walking on them before planting his arms on either side of your torso. He can feel your breath, soft against his cheeks as he leans in and connects his lips to yours - once, twice, three times.

That same sparky feeling that Eddie has been getting in his chest all night finally rumbles to life. Like a car being hotwired, he can practically feel your hands pulling wires he thought were long dead and breathing life back into them - rubbing them together until the spark catches and the engine starts.

“That was-” You pull away slightly to look up at him, lovesick and dopey.

“Dreamy? Hazy? I think those are two words I would definitely-”

You laugh, already pulling his face back towards yours.

“Shut up and kiss me again, Munson.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

a/n: ahh! thank you for reading!! if you enjoyed this story please like and reblog i would appreciate it endlessly !!!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson my beloved #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 9 months ago

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Regret

Pairing: DarkTom Riddle x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Lying is a flaw that Tom doesn’t appreciate.

WARNINGS: Toxic relationship.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

Dedicating this to @insectgf cause she's Tom's no.1 fan 😋

You nervously wring your hands as you peer around, eyes searching for movement near the dimly lit dungeon entrance.

The way to the Slytherin Common Room.

You've been waiting for just over half an hour, anxiety building up and infesting your thoughts while you hold vigil in hopes of finding Tom.

You should have never behaved like that. An act of pure stupidity and recklessness, that’s what it was.

Going to Hogsmeade in the company of a few girls of your dorm.

It was a rare occasion, something you never did before, and you had only relented after much begging and convincing from the girls. A dumb decision – one that led to a dreadful aftermath.

You should’ve known better. All of your joyful chatter and laughter at The Three Broomsticks immediately ceasing once you spotted the distinct lean figure of Tom seated in a distant table, surrounded by his friends, his brown-eyes fixed on you.

No surprise or shock in his gaze, only cold anger irradiating from his handsome features.

Something almost comprehensible given how you had explicitly told him you’d be spending all afternoon in your dorm, offering the poor excuse of a headache.

And now here you are. Scared, shaking like a leaf, waiting for the chance to apologize and beg for forgiveness.

You're so pathetic.

The time drags by, and you lose track, feeling as if you’ve been waiting for an eternity. But your efforts pay off when the door opens, revealing Tom.

Your heart leaps at the sight and fear clouds your mind when he offers you nothing but a quick murderous scowl that immediately turns into one of composed indifference before walking away past you, barely acknowledging your presence.

You gulp, hurrying after him as he walks with long strides through the empty corridors.

“Tom?”

“Tom…please.”

The boy ignores your numerous calls, but you keep your hasty pace even when it has you short breathed as Tom quickly charges through the stairways and halls.

“Tom, just listen to me.”

“And why should I listen to anything you spew out of that filthy mouth of yours?" his snarl scares you as he suddenly turns. "It appears that lies and deception is all I can expect from you.”

You wince, barely opening your lips before Tom walks away, choosing to stare blankly at a wall.

The confusion in your mind dissipates as a large door materializes on the door and only then you realize that you’ve reached the 7th floor.

The Room of Requirement.

You hesitate for a moment but proceed to follow Tom as he opens the door with a loud bang. Your existence remains ignored and you take a few small steps inside the room, unsure of how to bring Tom’s attention.

“Tom?”

For a moment, the possibility of Tom disregarding you again was present, and you fearfully awaited as the seconds went by without a proper reaction from Tom.

He inhaled sharply, fingers tightening before he relaxed.

But when he finally turned to face you, you almost wished he hadn’t.

The venom that darkened his face had your heart faltering, his eyes narrowing into thin slits that held nothing but anger and frustration. He almost looked like a snake.

You felt yourself turning smaller at the sight, suddenly unsure of how to speak.

“I-“

“Trust is a rather curious thing.” he says with his voice oddly serene, “An invisible yet very powerful bond, one that defines the nature of one’s relationship. That’s how I perceive it.”

“So, tell me. How many times?”

You look at him, confused.

“Tom-“

“How many times did you break my trust?” he repeats himself, brows contorting with annoyance, “How many times did you sneak behind my back to meet up with those filthy mudbloods?”

“I- Only this time.” you tearfully admit, lowering your gaze to the floor as Tom angrily hisses something in that strange snake language of his. “I swear, Tom. I-I’m so sorry.”

“Just this once? And why should I believe your unreliable words? You seem to be very determined in breaking my trust, so tell me why should I consider any of what you say to be true?”

Your lips shake when you bring yourself to look at Tom, tears burning in your eyes.

“But, …” a minuscule sob cuts you off, much to Tom’s irritation, “it is true. It was only this once, Tom, I swear on my life! I never lied to you before, I promise.”

“I’m so sorry, Tom, I really am!”

The intent with which he examines your pitiful face sets you on edge, heart plummeting against your ribs as you don’t dare to say a word.

“Prove it.”

“Prove wha-“

“Prove me that you won’t repeat this act of disloyalty. Assure me how sorry you are.” the way his eyes glint with a new cruel motivation has a shudder running down your body, aware that nothing good will come out of his proposition.

“Perform the Cruciatus Curse. On yourself.” his lips curl at your bewilderment, clearly enjoying taunting you.

This time, the tears overflow and slide down on your face pitifully and you look at Tom, silently begging him with your eyes.

But there’s no empathy in his face. Only a vile purpose.

“Go on, do it.” he takes a step forward, his tone borderline threatening despite how lightly he speaks. “You can either punish yourself or I’ll do it for you.”

“Because I assure you that in the end, you will suffer.”

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere tom riddle #dark tom riddle #yandere tom riddle x reader #dark tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle imagine #imagine tom riddle #tom riddle x female reader #yandere x reader #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle #yandere harry potter x reader #yandere scenarios #tw: yandere #tw.dark content #tw: toxic relationships

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sooniebby · 1 year ago

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Could I request loser Eren who’s a pervert x a sweet y/n :3?

Basically the story starts with eren not being able to to hook up with someone because he genuinely hates almost everyone (expect for Mikasa and armin), Armin then introduces him to his friend, Y/N, the sweetest boy to ever exist . Eren immediately knew he needed to bitch Y/N, so he managed to convince Y/N to go on a date with him and then fucks him dumb :3.

You can chose which kinks you wanna use!!

ఌ 𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑

꧁ 𝙀𝙧𝙚𝙣 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

Smut 𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙗𝙡𝙚! ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

The handicap stall was currently being used.

The sound of squelching and muffled whimpers was slipping from the stall. Like it couldn’t hold it much longer. The sight of four legs and pants on the floor pooling around one of them. But only one was uncontrollably twitching.

And those legs were you.

Your hand gripped harshly at the sink beneath you as the other covered your mouth. Sweat covered your face and body as two fingers skillfully split you open. How you got into this position was honestly unknown.

First you were on a movie date. Then you had to piss. Next Eren was suddenly knocking on your stall door. Now, he’s fingering your asshole.

Thank god you didn’t take a shit.

But honestly, who carries lubes to a movie date?!

This being your first time wasn’t planned at all. You imagined it would’ve been… uh… more romantic?

Guess Eren had a different plans.

“Look up.” Eren said, pulling his fingers out of your ass.

You shook your head. Looking in the mirror to see the face you were making. It wouldn’t be a pretty sight. But it didn’t seem you had much of a choice as Eren grabbed your hair and pulled your head up.

“Look. Up.”

A shriek left your lips at the pain but that was quickly forgotten when you saw yourself in the mirror. Your face was flushed and sweaty. It certainly looked as if you were being fucked.

You stared at the mirror in embarrassment until you noticed you could see Eren this way. He was focused on his pants for some odd reason….

Oh.

The light tap on your ass made you flinch. You hoped in your head that it was just his fingers but it was no doubt his cock. In your mind, you were crying about needing to stop it before you went to far. But your cock was twitching happily for release.

Maybe you should listen to your cock?

“Eren… we—”

“—shh. You don’t want to draw any attention to us, do you?” He asked, a cruel smirk on his lips. You could only muster a pout at his words.

You wished you could at least see what’s going in your ass. But Eren seemed content in leaving you in this position. His hands trailed over your body before he shoved two fingers in your mouth. You chocked around them—accidentally biting them but he didn’t seem too bothered by that.

“Bite twice whenever you want to stop.” He said, patting your ass. You hummed, licking the area you bit as an apology. The sound of a condom was heard as he ripped one open with his teeth.

It amazed you that he could do this with one hand. Did he have other partners? But that couldn’t be true, Armin had told you Eren kept complaining about some dry spell he was going through for over two years now.

Oh…

You’ll be Eren’s first fuck in two years. An odd sense of pride filled your heart. You wondered if he’d feel any pride in being your first ever fuck.

The sound of spit grossed you out as you felt something wet touch your asshole. Gross.

Well, it’s better than being chaffed.

Eren brought his free hand to move your face up to the mirror once more, a grin on his lips. His green eyes staring into yours through the mirror.

“Don’t look away. I need to watch your face as I fuck you.”

You gulped at the vision. He’ll be watching? Oh god. Hopefully you could look presentable enough.

You watched with a baited breath as Eren’s cock kissed your asshole, pushing against it gently. It was slow and agonizing as he half heartedly pushed against your hole before pulling away.

He seemed to enjoy the teasing though by the smirk on his lips. His brown hair was almost covering his eyes with his head face down to watch his cock tease you.

“Eren…” you whimpered. You couldn’t say much with his fingers in your mouth but you hoped your tone was enough.

Eren simply hummed. “Fine. You’re no fun.”

You wanted to cuss him out that this was no time to have fun but only a scream left your throat as his cock slammed right into your ass. His thrusts were harsh and unforgiving.

He didn’t give you anytime to get used to it. Your legs felt so weak—shaking from the constant pounding inside your now ex virgin asshole. There was a pressure inside of your that would get dragged against by Eren’s cock that sent you into a frenzy.

Your moans were muffled but was still filling the stall. Eren’s grunts also joined in—he made no attempt to muffle himself. You hoped no one would have to use the restroom for a few minutes.

“It’s a miracle Armin sent you my way… I should get him a gift.” Eren laughed.

You shook your head in embarrassment. You did not want Armin to know that in the one day you got to know Eren he immediately fucked you like a cheap slut.

You had to keep a little dignity.

“Hey… (Name)…”

A sharp tug to your hair caused you to bite Eren’s fingers accidentally as he moved your head to face the mirror once more. You didn’t even notice you had looked away. Eren’s face was in direct view once more—his hair was sticking to his forehead now due to the sweat.

At least you knew he was also sweating.

“What did I say about looking away?”

You muffled out an apology but that didn’t seem to help your case. Eren simply sighed and released your hair. His thrusts slowed down, which was something you needed, as he brought his free hand to your ass.

“Remember, bite twice.”

Huh? You wanted to ask but you quickly knew why he reminded you when a harsh slap was delivered to your ass. A scream left your lips that was hardly muffled by his fingers. God, someone had to know you two were fucking by now.

At least the theater was empty at this time.

But the poor workers…

After a second slap, Eren’s thrusts picked up the pace again. You continued to cry at the overstimulation. Having your ass slapped and the pressure against what you could only assume was your prostate during your first time—it was a lot.

Your cock was leaking and you knew you were close. But it seemed Eren was too. Which was shocking to you. It wasn’t it his first time, right?

“Fuck.. Glad you’re my first fuck after so long. Better than any pussy I’ve ever had.” Eren grunted, reaching down to grasp your dejectedly cock.

A moan left your throat in painful glee. It was nice to finally have your cock played with but it also sent you into another frenzy. Fuck, you weren’t going to last any longer.

Eren leaned down over your back, his mouth near your ear. The two of you looked at each other through the mirror. Your fucked face with drool dripping from your mouth that was still stuffed with Eren’s fingers.

And then Eren’s face. He still looked fine. Despite his sweat covered face—he didn’t look all that bad. Damn, you were a virgin compared to him.

Literally!

“C’mon… cum for me, baby.” He whispered in your ears. You whimpered at the pet name. Gosh, you hoped he called you that again.

It took only two more thrusts directly on your prostate for you to cum. A pathetic cry left your lips as you threw your head back in pleasure. Eren watched everything with a look of lust as he continued his thrusting, not stopping at all.

In fact, his thrusts felt harsher than his usual pace. It was like he wanted to see you cum hard on his cock. And he certainly succeeded.

Eren grunted at the sight of you before holding you close, now just chasing his own release. He removed his fingers from your mouth, want to hear you loud and clear. His mouth right near your ear.

“You’re certainly tighter than any pussy I’ve fucked.”

You wouldn’t deny at how you moaned at the praise. His words just made you dumb and happy. He came right after you—deep inside. But much to your surprise, you could feel his hot cum inside of you. Shit, the condom broke.

But it seemed Eren didn’t notice at the moment judging by his lack of reaction. He looked happy, honestly. You shuddered as the feeling of cum dripped out of your ass into the floor.

Oh, gross.

Eren reached in and pulled out the broken condom— nonchalantly throwing it into the toilet.

“Eh, it happens. Don’t worry. I don’t have anything.”

You hummed. You honestly just didn’t know what to do about it though… were you supposed to just put your pants on while cum dripped out of your ass?

The sound of a camera snapping caught your attention as you quickly turned around to see Eren with his phone. He grinned and shoved his phone into his pocket.

“I’ll send it to you later tonight. Pull your pants up.”

“But the cum..”

“It’s fine.” He said, grabbing your waist to pull you close. “Besides, it’s hot to think about it.”

You opened your mouth to yell at him only to notice there was shoes on the other side of the stall door.

“We’re closing for the night. Please leave.”

Oh no.

You knew that voice.

It was Jean.

“Oh. Sorry Jean!”

“Just get the fuck out before I call security.”

Eren simply laughed while you had a crisis right then and there. Jean knew Connie. Connie knew Sasha. Sasha knew Mikasa. Mikasa knew Armin.

Yup, you were screwed.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Please next time check what animes I write for because I don’t write for AOT! But I did this time cuz I like Eren. (And Armin 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼) so like only request Eren and Armin if want anything AOT related, anyone else is a no <3

Anyway, hope it was a good! This was fun to write!

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @kiiyoooo @mello-life69 @chill-guy-but-cooler @nakedtoasterr

#bottom male reader #x male reader #smut drabble #aot x male reader #eren x you

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aesthetic-bbyg · 8 months ago

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(Smut) Loser!Luke…

who thinks your just another camper. Just another girl, normal, albeit very pretty, but normal. You prance around camp with a kind smile, wave at those you know, even at him sometimes. Nothing that makes you too special that would distract Luke from his duties.

You’re just another camper.

Or so he thought, completely unaware of the truth. The innocent, pretty girl that resided in the Hermes cabin, yet to be claimed, had a dirty secret. He discovered it purely on accident, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. When he pushed the cabin door open that morning, discovering that you were missing from the daily head count, his eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.

There you were, shirtless, a tight pair of low jeans stretched out as you bent over to collect the obnoxiously bright orange camp shirt that you’d discarded earlier in the night. The sound of the door being open made you immediately stand up straight, turning around as you gasped and covered your chest. Feigning a wide eyed look once you noticed who it was standing in the doorframe. Allowing a faux embarrassed look to paint your feature as he stuttered out an apology and shut the door.

Though he couldn’t get it out of his head, the sight of the black ink etched carefully on your lower back. A tramp stamp decorating your skin, half of it hidden under the jeans you wore, he wanted to slap himself for being so disgusting. The fact that it was the first thing he noticed because he was gawking at your bent over ass.

He had to collect himself. Who was he, the leader of the Hermes cabin, if he was over here, a flustering mess and potentially growing an uncomfortable bulge in his pants over what? A tattoo? He’s seen some of the campers his age with them, it’s not like it was a new thing. Perhaps it was the placement of the ink, the fact it was only visible to him through an intimate moment. He swallowed thickly, brushing a way the thoughts when he heard the door click open, slowly watching as you stepped out.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to barge in on you like that—“ The boy mentally slapped himself for babbling like an idiot, he definitely knew that his cheeks were embarrassingly pink.

“It’s totally okay, Luke.” You giggled, a smirk playing on your lips as you patted his shoulder, letting it slide down his arm slowly. You’re voice so soft and gentle, yet antagonizing. You began walking towards the others of the Hermes cabin, your eyes staying connected to his until you were fully turned away.

He just watched your figure as you disappeared into the crowd, swallowing back once more as he felt his mouth dry up. You seemed so slick, unlike the image of you he’d built in his mind. You were a sweetie, a pitifully innocent new girl that was just barley getting the grip on this whole camp life within the first month of your arrival. And yet, that smirk, and the shirt? Did you purposefully cut it up so that it was more cropped.

When he’d finally found the strength to step forward, cautiously, almost like he was learning to walk again, he found you within the crowd. The bottom of the shirt looked to be messily torn up, some parts uneven, so you did cut it up. It did it’s job of revealing your midriff, just enough so he got a glance at a gleaming stone that pierced your belly button.

Gods.

You really weren’t like anything he’d imagined, but it only made his pants even more uncomfortable. Luke couldn’t hold it any longer. Desperately, he was covering himself shamefully as he scurried back to Hermes cabin like a deer running away at the sound of a twig snapping. He needed to relieve himself before he thought of presenting himself to the others.

It was humiliating , Luke thought to himself. Having to jerk off because you. The stupid image of you shirtless, bent over. What if he was standing behind you while you were in that same position? Bent over a bed, maybe? Him just pounding you from the back as he got full view of that tramp stamp that stained your skin. It made Luke moan like a pathetic loser, which he was was, but it didn’t make it any less humiliating.

It was all part of your devious planning. To get him this vulnerable, it only took one move and it was like dominos falling perfectly atop of each other. Just a singular sight you shirtless and it had the poor boy bucking into his fist. You would’ve loved to have an image to the noises you were hearing as you pressed your ear up against the cabin door. But of course, as you twisted the doorknob, the same creak that unveiled Luke’s presence earlier that morning, ultimately revealed you entering the cabin.

Luke immediately sat up, wide eyed and hurrying to cover himself with a blanket or pillow. It was a faint sense of deja vu, now the roles reversed. You shut the door, smirking softly as you approached the bed. The boy looked up at you like a innocent little thing that could do no wrong.

“Need a hand?”

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #son of Hermes #percy jackson and the olympians show #Percy Jackson show #Percy Jackson #charlie bushnell #luke Castellan smut #luke Castellan imagine #luke castellan blurb #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson disney+#pjo tv show #luke castellan pjo

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onlyswan · 2 years ago

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summary: in which music waters a wilting flower on a chilly autumn night and jungkook is stuck by the glue onto you.

> idol!jungkook x reader / strangers to lovers / fluff, slight angst / wc: 4.4k

> warnings: mentions of oc’s toxic ex bf, slutshaming, and alcohol

> in which masterlist!

note: the in which couple’s first encounter reveal?! has arrived with a bam cameo at the end <3 recommend reading the ‘first times’ in the masterlist next if you haven’t yet :D as always reblogs and/or feedback are appreciated 🥰 and yes. i love beabadoobee.

—

“sir, will you help me-“ you panic, eyes pleading for help as you look between the door and the owner of the music shop. “i think it’s stuck.”

“oh! of course, of course. i apologize about that.” the middle-aged man, quick to your aid, ducks out of the counter. “i ought to get this thing changed soon. spent a fortune on it but it’s not doing what it’s supposed to do.”

you copy his chuckle, watching him push up the still half-closed door before shoving it open to the side.

“thank you!” you politely bow your head before stepping out.

“come back again next time! i’ll give you a discount!”

“really? a discount? then i have no choice but to come back!” you whine playfully, smiling at the promise of saving money in the future. you present him another bow. “have a good night! close the door now, it’s cold.”

the 90’s love song playing inside becomes muffled when the transparent glass completely shuts out the outside world once again. instead, the lead vocalist’s voice is replaced by a golden and dulcet humming by a stranger.

you scan for the source of the sound, and at once, you discover it when you whip your head to the right. scrolling through his phone, he’s sitting at the far corner of the old wooden bench— the same boy who was paying at the counter when you stumbled into the store. unbeknownst to yourself, your heart skips a beat. you were transported to a field of flowers when you brushed past him, and you met his big brown eyes briefly when he turned to leave.

burdened by the heavy and uneven weight you’re carrying on your shoulders, you decide to rest on the other side of the bench while you wait for a taxi to pass by. you spare a glance at the oversaturated band posters on the off-white wall behind it before sitting down as their audience.

the humming ceases when he feels your presence beside him.

you cautiously set down the padded guitar bag on the ground, securing it in between your thighs, anxious of getting so much as a scratch on the precious instrument. it’s a dear friend’s birthday tomorrow, and you only found the time and the money to purchase her gift today.

you check your wrist watch. 10:13pm. you fell asleep in the library while studying for a test, and because of that, you’re probably going to be home at around midnight. this place is pretty far and secluded, but apparently it’s known for its good and rare finds. you went here with your friend two months ago just to window shop and one of their bass guitars caught her eye. naturally, you couldn’t resist. her birthday gift has to be this. for some reason, it just feels easier to spend money on your loved ones than yourself.

will you even manage to send a birthday message before you pass out to sleep again? god, you hope so.

you feel your empty stomach grumbling angrily, and you’re not sure if it makes a sound or if it’s all just in your muddled head. yup, you missed dinner, too.

“i’m so hungry.” you cry out quietly, resting your forehead on the neck of the guitar.

fine, maybe you subconsciously said it a little louder than quiet. it was a shot in the dark, curious if the stranger beside you would have any sort of reaction. you hope for a glance at most. he has beautiful eyes, ones you almost feel envious of.

“me too.“ the sulky response slips out of his mouth with an exhausted sigh.

the sound of his voice makes you perk up in pleasant surprise, gazing at him with an amused, tight-lipped smile. on the other hand, he stiffens from the realization of what he just did. he stops manspreading, straightening himself up and awkwardly clearing his throat.

“sorry… it was a reflex.”

“it’s okay.” you reassure him with a quick laugh.

you tear your eyes away from him, watching the moths frantically flying under the street lamps. it’s silent for a moment, except for the shop owner’s on-going playlist and the occassional singing of the abundant crickets.

you face him again with a flair of innocence.

“do you want a granola bar?”

he lifts his head to look at you, the screen’s light reflecting on his tan skin, and that grants you the ability to see his breathtaking eyes. there might’ve been countless instances when they hated how small this bench is, most likely a tight fit for three people, but right now, you wouldn’t have it in any other way.

“it’s just that… i’m going to eat it and it feels rude to eat alone knowing you’re hungry, too.”

his teeth sinks in lower lip, contemplating for a few beats before nodding his head. “yeah, sure. i’d like one. thank you.”

you bring out the tupperware from your messenger bag, unfastening the sides open and separating the lid. as your own wordless way of telling him that they’re not poisoned, you grab one first, taking a small bite, before offering the container to him.

“here you go.”

you stifle a cackle when he pulls down the sleeves of his black hoodie as if he’s preparing to eat a whole course meal. he’s so fucking cute, gentle and dainty while picking up the granola bar along with the parchment paper underneath it. that leaves you with three left. you set down the tupperware between the two of you, loosely putting the lid on top.

“huh?” he exclaims with big round eyes, hand hovering over his mouth as he chews. “did you make this?”

the question makes you wince nervously. he didn’t like it? you could’ve sworn it's the best batch you’ve made so far. “uhm, if it tastes good, then i did. if not-”

“no, no. i like it.” he giggles, waving his hand to shoo your worries. “it’s not too sweet, and it’s soft? how did you make it chewy?!”

“oh-” you breathe out a sigh, clutching your chest in relief. “i just follow a recipe i found online! my neighbor gives me honey like every week so i found a use for it.”

“well, it’s really good. thank you.” he gives you a kind smile, scrunching his nose before resuming to eat the snack you spent your sunday night preparing.

and it’s quiet again. you look the other way to hide the proud smile playing on your lips, the fluttering of your unguarded heart raging and stubborn. maybe if you put food in your mouth, you’ll stop talking… not.

“i’m ___.”

he swallows before replying, distinctive dimples near his mouth making an appearance. “i’m jungkook.”

jungkook. it suits him so well. it’s perfect.

“do you play the guitar?“ jungkook asks curiously, motioning at the instrument you’re holding.

“oh, no- i just got this for my friend’s birthday. she’s in a band.” you share with a chuckle. “what about you? what do you need those giant speakers for?”

“ahh, they are big, aren’t they?” he scrunches his nose, glancing at the two boxes beside his feet. “i just figured buying new speakers would motivate me to work on music more.”

“are you a singer?” you gasp dramatically for effect. “or perhaps, a rapper?”

“i mean…” he smiles sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. “i guess i can rap, too.”

“that’s cool. i think you have a pretty talking voice, too.”

“aigoo, thank you so much.” he jokingly bends down his torso for a bow, clasping his hands together with the small remaining piece of granola bar in between before taking it in between his teeth.

the harmony of your laughter bleeds through the chilly air, providing your hearts a wave of much needed warmth.

“thank you too. you gave me an idea what to gift my friends next time.”

“speakers?” his face lights up like of a kid unboxing presents beside the christmas tree. you’ve never met anyone who looks this passionate at the mention of the said device— this whole interaction is giving you the urge to dive deeper into the world of music beyond the sphere of being a casual listener. “they’ll love it. it’s the best gift for me personally.”

you tilt your head to the side. “you know a lot about them?”

“hmmm, i don’t know.” he purses his lips as he hums, eyes falling on the ground as he ponders. “they’re important for shows and work so i naturally learn a lot about them… i often look for reviews and new releases. it’s like a hobby?”

“really? then i’m sold. i need you.”

the carelessly casual words escape your mouth before you can think twice.

“need me?” he repeats your word in surprise, pointing at himself.

you disguise yourself with a nod and a coy smile, acting nonchalant as if you’re not screaming inside. you’ve always been this shameless when you have nothing to lose, but he’s just so pretty that you want to learn shit like what his favorite food is and whether your zodiac signs are compatible even though you don’t believe in them.

“help me choose the best speakers to buy, one year from now. i don’t know anything about music at all, so i always have a hard time with gifts.” you’re pouting sadly by the end, your words bearing the weight of truth, albeit you’re also using them as an excuse to glue yourself onto him.

in your mind, five seconds feels like it’s stretching into eternity. he breaks out into a shy grin, playing with the parchment paper left in his hand before folding it over and over again until it becomes the same size as the nail of his thumb. he stuffs it into the pocket of his washed denim jeans.

“okay then, i should help you. give me your number?”

your hands graze each other as you lay hold of his phone, clueless instruments of your and jungkook’s youthful impulses and anticipation.

“do you have other ___’s in your contacts? should i name myself ‘___ from mj’s music box’?” you inquire half-jokingly, raising your eyebrows at him.

”ey, come on. there’s no need for that.” he chortles, staring back at you with an unnamed emotion in his eyes, but you quickly revert your attention to the screen and you don’t notice.

“i don’t think you’ll remember me just by my name a year from now, though.” you mutter to yourself as you tap on the screen. after that, you tap the call button to save his number on your phone as well.

you’re already handing him back his phone when he finally constructs a reply-

“is that so? then make it difficult for me to forget.”

and the air gets robbed from your lungs. it makes you wonder how many hearts he has broke, being this handsome and charming, and if you’ll even drag this out and stick around long enough to find out.

“be careful of your words. i’m pretty competitive.” you playfully taunt him, softly tugging his wrist to put the device on his delicately wide palm. “don’t blame me when i end up being the only person you think about.”

he matches your energy, a cocky smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he shakes his head. “psh, why would i? that doesn’t sound like a bad deal.”

why are you thinking of ways to keep this flowing instead of retreating and coming up with an obvious excuse to leave? as always, you find yourself most liberated when you meet new people, even when you know they’ll only be a fleeting presence in your life, here to leave a stain or a scar. you wish a taxi never arrives. you wish to be left stranded here for the rest night so you can hear him talk about the first song he ever wrote and you can tell him about the stupid song your first boyfriend wrote for you.

but alas, the universe intervenes with your fantasies and the approaching blazing headlights almost blind your blurry eyes.

you wave your hand to hail the taxi, and you smile at jungkook one more time. “time for me to go.”

“oh, okay.”

the vehicle parks infront of the bench. he watches you hurriedly toss the granola bar you never finished into the transparent tupperware, a feeling akin to disappointment gnawing at his guts.

“wait- weren’t you waiting for a taxi, too?” you wonder out loud as you slide the resealed container inside your bag.

“i’m fine, i have a ride. you go take it- oh, oh- let me help you with that-” he stands up abruptly when he sees you struggling to stand up, lifting the guitar to relieve you of the barrier.

“thanks, jungkook.” you laugh airily, getting on your feet, closer to him than you’ve ever been. he’s taller than you originally thought, and it’s hard to ignore the fact that his flexing forearms are veiny… (you have a suspicion that he’s doing it on purpose. the guitar bag isn’t that heavy.) those, paired with that pretty baby face— he’s so manly and so adorable in a way you’ve never seen in anyone else. he’s a beautiful, refreshing sight to behold.

you’re holding your breath, as if that would freeze the hands of the clocks, halt the earth from spinning on its axis because it’s the only way for you to stay without blaming yourself. the love songs haven’t stopped playing, and a slow acoustic sets out to delude you that this is a scene from an indie romance film, a beginning of something beautiful, but it rarely is. it never is.

his bunny teeth sink into his bottom lip, tainting it a darker shade of pink, before his tongue sneaks out to lick it. “you can go inside.” he generously says, slightly raising his arms to gesture at your cherished gift he’s grasping securely.

you only nod in understanding, walking past him and proceeding to open the door to slide into the backseat. you assist him in putting the guitar inside the taxi and over your lap, and you force your brain to shut down before you can speak again and your friskiness gets you into trouble.

“get home safe, ___!” he brightly chirps, waving at you goodbye.

your cheeks are starting to hurt from all the giddy smiles, but you just can’t stop, not when he has this contagious and bubbly expression painted on his face that’s simply impossible not to adore.

“you too, jungkook.”

his meticulous eyes briefly wander around your figure, checking if you’re too close, and then he carefully slams the door shut. you sink into your seat, swallowing the lump in your throat before telling the taxi driver your address.

you don’t want to think too much, so you close your eyes, hoping to get more sleep to recharge your mental and social batteries. unsurprisingly, you grow restless not even five minutes after. the soothing piano ballads faintly playing in the radio aren’t much help either. an infuriated scream hangs on the tip of your tongue, and you bite it down into dust. instead, you dish out your phone from the pocket of your bag to save jungkook’s number… but then the venomous voice of your ex calling you degrading names ranging from ‘an ungrateful, attention-seeking bitch’ to ‘a slut’ after you broke up with him echo in your tumultuous head, and you begin feeling pathetically small and nauseous. for a split moment you find yourself contemplating whether you should just delete it or not. out of guilt or out of fear, maybe both, you’re not quite certain.

what ultimately pull you out from the dark abyss of relentless overthinking are the first notifications you ever receive with his name attached to them.

Jungkook:

hey this is JK

i just thought of this now ?!..

trade my music equipment expertise for your magical granola bar recipe? :)

you bury your face in your hands, silently crying out— “ah shit, this is so annoying. why does he have to be so cute? i need a drink.”

—

“i’m hungry.” the grumpy complaint spills from your tongue now that bam, your not-so little happy pill, is out from sight.

“me too.” jungkook juts out his bottom lip, lifting his head from your shoulder to look at you. “do you still have strawberry wafers in your bag?”

his question prompts you to hug it defensively. no, just no. “i’m saving them for emergencies-”

he puts his index finger infront of his lips, shushing you with a shake of his head. he tuts. “i know. this is an emergency, baby.”

cornered at the armrest of the couch, you have nowhere else to go. you unwillingly surrender to satisfying his craving, grimacing as he starts rummaging through your bag. this is exactly why you told him you should eat brunch before bringing in bam for his grooming, but jungkook insisted that it won’t take too long. sure, maybe the grooming session itself won’t… but the waiting in line part? that definitely took too long. making an appointment is technically futile when you’re visiting on a weekend.

“mhmmm, i love it.” he moans in satisfaction, devouring the slice of wafer in only two consecutive bites.

you glare at him when he offers you the plastic bag with a teasing smile, seizing it from his grip to snack on the treat while you continue to wait at the lounge area. you’re the only fur parents left here, the last clients before the staff goes on their hour-long lunch break. the sign on the door has been flipped to say ‘CLOSED’.

jungkook wraps one arm around you, pulling you closer by the shoulder and cupping your face with his warm hand to plant an apologetic kiss on your cheek. “i’ll cook you a hearty meal for dinner when we get home.”

you melt in his hold, leaning further against the backrest to release the tension from your body bred by hunger and impatience.

“really?” you feign nonchalance as you make the futile attempt of hiding the pleased smile curving on your lips. “i want chicken. the one you made before, with the creamy and spicy sauce.”

your mouth is practically watering as you describe the dish, the smell and taste of his cooking still vivid in your senses’ memory. it’s making the food you’re eating painfully insipid, but it’s better than nothing.

“and wine, too. no- actually, i’m craving tequi- argh, i’ll settle with wine.”

“okay! chicken and wine for dinner!” he agrees straight away, pressing a kiss on your temple before pinching one more stick of wafer between his fingers. he breaks it into two halves and gives one of them to you.

you accept it wordlessly, but a peculiar feeling is slithering its way into the tight confines of your heart, and you can’t withdraw your eyes from closely observing your gorgeous boyfriend. he brushes off the crumbs that fell on his white t-shirt and his lap after he finishes his share, still chewing as he tenderly takes the empty plastic from your hand. just as you predicted, he finds entertainment in folding it as small as possible.

“this is giving me déjà vu.”

“déjà vu?” he tilts up his head, doe eyes widening as you’ve captured his attention.

“uh-huh, you know when we first met…” you trail off, sending him a threatening look when the confused expression on his face stays unchanging. “you remember, right?”

his mouth hangs open before his eyebrows knit in irritation, posture straightening as he stammers with his defense. “what kind of question is that? you’re hurting my feelings- you were wearing a varsity jacket with the number 6 on it!”

“jungkook, i wore that like everyday for four months.”

his expression softens, pierced lip forming a pout. “do you even know that i-i… ah, i’ll show you instead!”

“show me what?”

he digs his hand in the pocket of his dark blue denim jeans, dishing out his wallet. you peer at him with curiosity as he rapidly unzips it to comb through his cards, pausing at his driver’s license and removing the white paper hiding behind it.

“no way-” you splutter, nearly choking on your own spit as your hunch grows enormously.

he unfolds it to reveal the faded blue ink that writes the most crucial and specific details of the first time the universe conspired to make your paths cross.

“look, i still have the receipt from the night! november 11…”

you notice him squinting at the faint characters, and you momentarily disconnect from the surge of mixed emotions to pull out his prescription glasses from the collar of his t-shirt. you affectionately wear it on him, weaving your fingers through his hair to brush away the loose strands from his bun blocking the lens.

“thanks baby- it’s november 11, 2017. at 9:55pm!”

jungkook originally kept this receipt for a month incase he had to return the speakers due to unforeseen defect or damage. but then you never stopped talking, and you became the only person he thinks of 24/7 just as your coquettish warning told. the thought of throwing it out never occured to him. instead, he preserved it in his wallet because he carries it with him everywhere he goes. he would even argue that it’s his most important property in it. he can have his credit cards cancelled then replaced, but this piece of paper is once in a lifetime.

mj’s music box closed down due to the pandemic. he hasn’t told you this, didn’t want to break your heart when he found out. he knows that you treasure the place as much as him, if not more.

meanwhile, the new-found knowledge has rendered you speechless, unblinking, buffering.

“what’s with that face? you’ve never seen this in my wallet?” he quizzes you in bewilderment, smiling humorously.

“of course i haven’t! you want me going through your wallet without permission?!” you whine, hugging his arm and hiding yourself behind his back to calm the intense pumping of your heart.

oh, your sweet, sweet jungkook— he never runs out of way to make you fall in love with him all over again.

“my love, you know i don’t care about things like that.” he chuckles, astonished by how you still highly value and respect his privacy and boundaries despite how long you’ve been together. it just occurs to him then, that at the very core of your relationship, this is probably why he never once regretted moving in with you. he says it all the time, but he just feels so goddamn lucky to have you in his life. he loves you. he loves everything about you. even the things he doesn’t like, he loves.

“aren’t you going to eat that?”

you’re overflowing with his love, you can’t stomach anything else.

“i won’t.”

“i’ll indulge myself then.” he cages your hand in his, raising it for the wafer to reach his lips. he bites it all the way down like a bunny eating a carrot, ending the journey with a chaste kiss on your knuckle. “you’re too quiet… are you crying?”

you shake your head profusely, tightening your embrace. “i love you so much, i can’t think. i just want to hug you.”

he smells a different type of sweet nowadays— more manly, more mature, binding you in an enrapturing spell, and with a suble hint of a baby scent that somehow makes him much more intoxicating. it’s overwhelming to think about— the amount of perfume bottles you’ve bought and consumed after asking one another if they smell too basic or too strong; the amount of times jungkook changed his wallet and took the receipt along with him because it only felt right.

“mkay, i’m not going anywhere.” he whispers, nosing at your hair.

and so, he stays stuck by the glue onto you as he gulps down a bottle of water, as he returns his wallet in his pocket with grunts of difficulty, as he deletes a promotional text on his phone sent by his service provider. he suspects that you’ve already fallen asleep. after all, you did spend the entire night dancing to the songs he sang along to. you wore the crocheted blanket you made as a cape and a dress, flowing with your graceful movements controlled by the lyrics and the beat and the melody and his compliments and his giggles.

he’s proven wrong when you slowly turn your head, cheek squished against his bicep. with heavy eyelids, you search for his hands, tangling them with your lonely ones.

“want to hear something silly about that day?”

“i’m all ears.” he beams eagerly, watching you twiddle with his long and slender fingers.

“do you know why i offered you my food?”

“because you couldn’t let a pretty boy like me succumb to starvation?”

“weeeell, there’s that…” you admit to his confident guess. “but aside from that, i wanted to see your nails closely.”

“my nails?”

you make a noise of confirmation as you trace his tattoos, a laugh seeping from the cracks of your relaxed demeanor. “to see if they were clean and trimmed or not.”

“so…” jungkook, the most hygienic man you’ve ever met, is digesting what you just confessed to him. “if they were dirty, you never would’ve told me your name?”

“hmm, yeah. because i always badgered my ex about it and you know how that relationship ended, so i thought enforcing those type of rules would help because i don’t want to deal with that shit again.” you cringe at younger you’s naivety and desperation, smiling shyly. “and it kind of… worked out so well? it sounds so funny to me now. i actually love myself for that.”

“fuck, baby,” he sighs.

he can’t imagine how a human being could ever dare to treat you with anything but gentleness. literally, can’t. it makes him sick to his stomach, makes the blood in his veins boil. he feels disturbed by the memories that still haunt you, and he feels angry because he is powerless and he can’t erase them no matter how hard he tries.

he caresses your face, planting doting kisses on your lips. the ghost of his affection lingers, like an invisible lipstick mark. “i wish i met you sooner.”

“what are you saying? i think we met at the perfect time!” you console his frustration, grinning when the epiphany lands on top of your bittersweet flashbacks. “out of the 365 days of the year, we met at 11/11. you’re my wish come tru- bam!”

the shocked, high-pitched squeal freefalls from your mouth when bam excitedly jumps on your laps out of nowhere, the weight of his upper half crushing your thighs underneath him. the dog smiles at you, panting.

“bam, i missed you but i was just about to tell your dad something romantic!”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook au #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

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my-castles-crumbling · 7 months ago

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Is It Over Now?

Someone requested this a WHILE back and I wasn't in the mental space, but now I am so I present....Is It Over Now (Jegulus's Version).

It had been three weeks, four days, five hours, and two minutes.

Three weeks, four days, five hours, and two minutes since Regulus had left James. Said it wasn't going to work, refused to hear James's begging or reason. Insisted that it was for the best, even as tears streamed down his own face. Said that he had to become the Black Heir and James had to be the Golden Boy and they just couldn't be together. That they were a fling, and incompatible.

Three weeks, four days, five hours, and two minutes of seeing Regulus with other people.

Because as soon as Regulus had walked out of the door of the little flat that was supposed to be theirs (had he not left before moving in), he'd walked into the arms of someone else.

Well, multiple someone else-s.

James had seen them. All of the dark-haired, tan-skinned men that Regulus picked up in bars. Because he went to the bars, too. Watched.

But tonight, he had enough.

Regulus was on the dance floor, a tall man with black hair and fucking glasses leering at Regulus from behind, grasping at him roughly, making James almost growl with anger. Because Regulus deserved to be worshipped, not manhandled.

"Get the fuck off of him," he said loudly over the music, walking over and shoving the man backwards.

"What the fuck, James?" Regulus yelled, turning to look at him. "You've no right, it's over, I-"

"Over?!" James yelled, bass pounding around them, flashing lights making him squint. "You think so?"

"Yes!" Regulus yelled, but he grabbed James's wrist and hauled him out of the club to a back alley. "Yes," he repeated, only slightly quieter but twice as mad once they were in silence. "Enough. You have no say over who I'm with."

"Oh? But speaking about who you're with," James repeated furiously, just as loud, "All these men you're with- they look pretty damn familiar, don't you think?"

Regulus turned pink. "I-"

"So, 'It's over'? When was it over, Reg?" James asked, half-hysterical. "When you left me alone with no explanation? When you fucked the first bloke that looked like me on your couch? Because I know you did! Or how about when you looked at him while you fucked him and wanted to see me? Or maybe when you kept going out and looking for something better than us and found nothing?"

Regulus just stared, mouth open.

"Y'know," James continued, on a roll, tears falling down his cheeks "sometimes- sometimes I wish something would happen to me so you finally get your shit together and come back to me and finally tell me the reason you left is because you fucking love me and you were too afraid to SAY IT!" is voice cracked on the last few words, his heartbreak bleeding through the anger. Because he knew Regulus hadn't left him because he didn't love him.

It had been because he was scared. Scared of them. Scared of himself. Scared of being so vulnerable.

Regulus was still staring. He looked thoroughly shocked. Like he'd been electrocuted or something.

"It's not over," James whispered, taking a deep breath, hoping so much he was right. "Because you don't want it to be. Do you, Reggie?"

And it was like his words broke something in Regulus because all of a sudden, he was in James's arms, crying, his sobs only broken by apologies. "Was-trying-to-protect....was-scared....need-you..." he whimpered into James's chest, body shaking.

And James cried, too, but it was with relief. Relief that it was not over. "Come here, baby," he whispered, brining Regulus closer. "I love you," he said firmly, even as tears fell. "And you don't need to protect me or...or run from us. You're safe. I'm not going to leave you, Reg. I've got you."

Regulus only mumbled in his shirt, but James swore he heard an 'I love you' in there.

It was the one thing he'd been wanting to hear for three weeks, four days, five hours, and two minutes.

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tac-the-unseen · 4 months ago

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How each slasher would kill you!

Micheal Myers:

•Makes it's shockingly quick and easy for you

•He slams her knife down and impales you through the skull

•He takes out his knife and leaves you there

•Might even steal something from you

Billy loomis:

•Slams you into wall and guts you

•Makes some relevant quip about your predicament

•Steps back to watch you to bleed out on the floor

•Waves goodbye as you finally die

Stu macher:

•Jumps on top of you while you're laying down

•Stabs you repeatedly in the chest

•Doesn’t waste time (for whatever reason)

•Giggles the whole time

Thomas Hewitt:

•Chases you around his home with his family looking all over for you

•He catches you completely unaware and from behind

•Saws you in half by the hips

•sits your top half up and leaves your bottom half

Bubba Sawyer:

•Bashes you head in and puts you on a hook

•Cuts you up to store you easily in the deep freezer

•You never saw it coming

•Hopes is brother turns you into meatloaf

Bo Sinclair:

•Shoots you in the chest three times from the window of his shop

•Pats himself on the back and leaves you in the grass while he smokes

•After a few minutes he gets up and starts dragging you to his brother

•Brags about it for the rest of the night

Vincent Sinclair:

•Drowns you in a vat of wax

•He pushes your head into the heated wax and waits for you to stop moving

•While he waits he thinks of all the things he could do to sculpt you a new face

•leaves your body on the ground to go sketch up some ideas

Lester Sinclair:

•Hits you with his truck then comes out to decapitate you with his shovel

•Apologizes the whole time

•Tells your corpse about this being his ‘brothers doing’

•cuts of a finger and buries it outside

Billy Lenz:

•Slits your throat while at a party

•Calls you names the whole time

•Leaves you for the others to find

•Practically gets off when he hears other scream in horror

Brahms Heelshire:

•Strangles you with a lamp cord

•He’s much stronger than he looks

•He lets you struggle but doesn't let you go until your gone

•Carries your body to the garden and leaves you in the flower beds

Hannibal Lecter:

•You thought you were safe at that dinner party

•What no one expected was you to fall on to the floor

•Poison, That's how you knew he didn't like you

•He didn't eat you, he left you for the cleaners

Will Graham:

•Chokes you out then Snaps your neck after you try and escape

•Tells you all his thoughts while you claw at his face

•once you're dead he breathes the biggest sigh of relief and hunches over your body

•Gives you to Hannibal as a present

The Lost Boys:

•They lure you in and quickly starts attacking you Once you're in a secluded area

•They slit your throat, Not deep enough to kill you instantly

•They let you try and run (more like hobble) away just to chase you

•They finally kill you by eating you alive

Thank you for reading <3

I know I keep saying this but I swear they're almost done, I just have the AO3 author curse! (It's weirdly both a good and bad thing)

So here's is a quick please forgive me for taking so long! 🥺🙏

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fallecupid · 5 months ago

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nsfw alphabet with art donaldson. ( headcanon )

.ᐟ.ᐟ warnings :ㅤ dom!reader.ㅤsab!art.ㅤfem!reader.ㅤnsfw content.ㅤword count: 3,3k.

( author's note : i apologize in advance for errors in this text / vague wording / words that are incorrect in meaning ( if any are present in the content. ) english is not my native language, everything written below has been translated by a translator. )

A — ( aftercare ) Immediately after sex, donaldson most often takes time to catch his breath, and later immediately buries his face in you like a damn koala. this is accompanied by his quiet questions about how much you liked it and whether he caused any discomfort.

B — ( body part ) of course these are hands. art melts in your hands, all these small touches on his hair, cheeks, and ultimately his penis. all this makes it the top of the world and brings incredible pleasure.

C — ( cum ) a man prefers to keep you clean, so he either cums in your mouth or on the fresh sheets.

D — ( dirty secret ) donaldson often jerks off in the bathroom, imagining something like bdsm. he wouldn't mind participating in something if it involves you.

E — ( experience ) can you say you are his one and only for life? however, his first time wasn't too damn terrible and he got better and better each time. after all he is a good boy and a quick learner, right?

F — ( favourite position ) donaldson likes it when you sit on him, it opens up a lot more possibilities. plus, this allows him to see your facial expression and understand whether he is going correctly.

G — ( goofy ) art will often say something inappropriate, almost forcing you to tease him. however, he is far from serious during sex.

H — ( hair ) hair is one of donaldson's main weaknesses, if you want to make it wet, just caress the light locks of his head. during sex, he will often ask you to grab his hair while you whisper sweet nothings in his ear.

I — ( intimacy ) art is a hopeless romantic. he suffers with every fiber of his being trying to please you. whether it's a candlelit dinner or going to the cinema with a bouquet of roses.

J — ( jack off ) sometimes he can afford it, on a tennis tour when you are not around. he locks himself in the hotel bathroom looking at your photos and completely worshiping you. sometimes these are video calls, but that's a completely different story.

K — ( kink ) dominance. well, you can’t hide that to some extent what turns him on is how much control you have over the process. more often than not, making him a boneless man who lets his needs come to the fore.

L — ( location ) there is no need to change traditions, so he fucks you (or you fuck him) in your bedroom, away from everything, only a lush bed and quiet moans.

M — ( motivation ) donaldson just needs to look at you to make his dick jump at a frantic pace. but it’s worth highlighting foreplay. what turns him on is how well you can act it out.

N — ( no ) nothing without your permission. even if he fucking wants you, he won't until you give him the green light.

O — ( oral sex ) he wouldn't perform oral sex on his own accord. if you proposed to him, he would happily agree, wanting to please your sophisticated desires.

P — ( pace ) definitely a slow pace. he wouldn’t rush anywhere, but rather would stretch out each thrust like a damn taste of pie on his tongue, giving you a chance to enjoy it to the fullest.

Q — ( quickie ) definitely not. neither you nor he like speed in this matter.

R — ( risk ) he wouldn’t fuck you in a toilet stall or somewhere on the balcony.

S — ( stamina ) usually your sex doesn’t last too long, an hour or an hour and a half, and you’re both already wet and damn satisfied.

T — ( toys ) unusual, but unfortunately not practiced.

U — ( unfair ) art encourages you rather than teases you. a few kind words and you have already pounced on him like a cat on a piece of meat. this is not to say that there is anything bad about this.

V — ( volume ) more often than not, any noise is muffled by your hips or pillows, so overall art is not a problem in this regard.

W — ( wildcard ) during sex, he is too often embarrassed by your comments about the behavior of his penis, so he sits under the covers while foreplay time passes.

X — ( x-ray ) something like 15 cm?

Y — ( yearning ) on a scale of ten it is something around 7/10. sex is relaxing and enjoyable.

Z — ( Zzz ) a man falls asleep once after you, so it depends on how tired you are and whether you will not have a continuation of previous sex.

#sketch #headcanon ८ ୧ ⸝⸝ ა #art donaldson #art donaldson smut #art donaldson fic #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson headcanons #challengers #challengers smut #challengers fic #challengers fanfic #challengers art donaldson #challengers headcanons #꒰ㅅ´ ˘ ꒱ . my works

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inmyheaddd · 10 days ago

Text

walkin’ out the door with your bags - grayson hawthorne x reader - part 3

⤷ “pardon my emotions, i should probably keep it all to myself”

wc: 3k summary: things are as normal as ever between you and grayson, and gigi comes up with a plan… a double date. a/n: sorry i’ve been SO SLOW with these updates 😭 i had to cut this in half because it was getting sooo long, so part 4 will most likely be posted tmr!! (the flashback will make a lot more sense in the next part lmao)

masterlist || part one || part two || part four

the past…

you and your class were on a trip to a planetarium of some sort.

you had just turned 9 and entered your astronomy phase - that never ended up fully leaving you - and were absolutely thrilled. you had a permanent smile on your face the whole day.

it was now a break time, kids could spend their money on whatever they wanted; magnets, souvenirs, in the gift shop, and by far, the most popular choice: ice cream.

“are you not going to get any?” you asked the boy sitting beside you on the bench, before bringing your plastic spoon to your little cup, and then to your mouth again.

grayson barely looked at you, “no.”

“why? this ice cream is so good.”

he looked at the rocket keychain he held in his hand. he told you earlier he’d bought it for his youngest brother, xander.

“i’m not hungry.” he said flatly.

“yes you are, i can see it on your face hawthorne!” you pointed a finger at him, “you want ice cream sooooo bad it hurts, but you’re too scared of acting normal.”

“no i don’t,” he said, “and i am not afraid.”

“sure you are,” you said with an overenthusiastic nod, taking another bite of your ice cream.

grayson eyed you, “are you insinuating i’m not normal?”

you giggled, “yeah, because you don’t like ice cream. that, or you pretend to not like it. both are super weird.”

he furrowed his brows at you, absentmindedly twirling the keychain around his fingers. “…what if i simply haven’t had it before?”

your jaw almost dropped. there was no way that was just a hypothetical question.

“you’ve never had ice cream?” you exclaimed, eyes wide with surprise. when he didn’t respond, you continued. “woah, grayson. that’s actually kind of sad…” as your best friend it’s my duty to get you to try all the best flavors one day— and trust me, there’s a lot.”

“i’m perfectly fine without ice cream in my life.” he retorted, quite snappily too. “and without cavities. i’ve seen my brothers get a tooth extracted … it does not look pleasant, to say the least.”

you took another bite of your ice cream, “what’s life without a little risk— or too much sugar?”

he eyed you, “less trips to the dentist.”

the present…

it had been a few weeks since that hawthorne event, and things were back to normal with you and grayson. no more awkwardness, no more almost confessions, just you and your best friend.

you found yourself outside grayson's house, tapping your foot impatiently after ringing the doorbell twice.

you

— hello — bro — i’m outside — no one’s opening the door — are you leaving me on seen??

you waited a moment, seriously debating whether to go home or not as you glanced at your phone, watching the bubbles form and disappear.

grumpy blonde 👎

— No.

you

— …is this because i called you bro — sorry — sorry grayson davenport hawthorne***

*grumpy blonde 👎 reacted 👎🏻 to your message*

how fitting.

grumpy blonde 👎

— Do you not have a key? I had one made for you months ago.

you

— oh — well — i kinda lost it

grumpy blonde 👎

— I’ll have a new one made soon. — I’ll be down now, apologies for the wait.

you

— aw — it’s ok oren just let me in — i think he feels bad for me LMAO

when the door finally clicked open, you barely took 3 step before you heard the front door shut close. the coldness of the house immediately hit you.

why was it always freezing in this place?

grayson came down within 10 seconds of your arrival, and 10 minutes later, you were sitting on his bed as he organized the new suits he had bought earlier that day.

so that’s why he was taking so long.

now, you just finished explaining the long winded plan you and gigi had been planning for a week now.

it sounded his worst nightmare.

you loved it.

“so… yeah. what do you think?” you asked, a coy smile on your face as grayson turned to look at you.

“you came all the way here to ask me to ask me this?” there it was: the eyebrow arch.

“well, if i called you or asked over text you’d just say no.” you shrugged, “but in person i can just annoy you until you say yes.”

“i’m not going on a double date.” of course he was going to say that. “nonetheless with gigi and noah.”

you sighed frustratedly, nearly falling back on his bed. “but why? it’s all friendly and platonic, and he’s actually so nice! i’ve even talked to him a little and—“

he quit reorganizing his suits and swiftly turned his head around to look at you. “when have you spoken to him?”

you laughed nervously at his intense gaze, “chill,” you said, “he just drops gigi off at our door sometimes, or waits outside if she’s about to come out.”

“i do some subtle interrogations of my own for your information, hawthorne,” you continued, your voice a little quieter, more meaningful. “youre not the only one who cares about gigi, you know.”

the knit in his brows loosened, and his eyes broke away from yours for a second. “you’re right. i apologize.” and just like that, his eyes quickly flickered away again.

his back as turned to you, “i do want gigi to be happy.” he said, knowing how gigi jokingly says otherwise. “however, not everyone has the best intentions. it’s difficult to not be wary.”

you watched him open a table drawer and pull out his glasses box. he put them on, and then took out his phone.

after a moment of silence, you continued your persuasion attempts.

“i know that, this’ll be your perfect chance to see what’s going on,” you said in a singsong voice towards the end, “and gigi already promised no public displays of affection between them, if you were worried about that.”

he just hummed, clearly not showing any interest in the whole ordeal, not wanting to discuss it any further.

you sighed again, and briefly checked your phone. you realised you would have to leave soon if you wanted enough time to get ready.

you still sat watching him, though. it looked like he was trying to inspect something closer on his phone - that, or he had really bad eyesight - because he squinted and pulled his glasses down his nose bridge momentarily as he looked at his phone.

he looked from his phone to you, “what time is this… double date happening?”

you stifled a laugh, “you look like a grandpa.”

he raised a judging brow, but you could see that smile creeping in. “i’ll repeat myself, when is this double date you speak of happening?”

“wait,” you realised what that meant, “you’re coming?!”

“i did not say that.”

you jumped up from the bed, beaming at him as you placed your hands on his arms, “i knew you’d come to your senses!”

he tilted his head back but made no attempt to move. and maybe it was your imagination, but it almost looked like he was smiling.

“it’s at that one restaurant with the name i can’t pronounce and the weird logo, and gigi said to pleasewear something with colour, and that we should be there at 7!”

he sighed, looking like he was about to say something, but then he hesitated for a moment. his frown disappeared, and it seemed whatever complaints had too.

“i’ll be there to pick you up at quarter to.”

you blinked at him, your hands falling back to your sides, “quarter to?”

“6:45.”

“why didn’t you just say that then?” you joked. “quarter to,” you mocked him in a deep voice. “so extra”

“extra?” he asked with a hint of a laugh.

“you’re extra, grayson hawthorne.”

his expression stayed the same , “it seems like you have new words to call me every week.”

“yeah, ‘cause you’re easy to make fun of.”

grayson accepted that and managed a smile, and also seemingly ignored everything you had just said.

he changed the subject completely. “your glasses really suit you. have i told you that yet?”

you willed yourself not to smile as you tilted your head to the side, “are you being sarcastic again?” you brought your hands to touch the frames you had promised to wear, and have gotten so used to them that they’d become second nature.

“i wasn’t ever being sarcastic,” he instantly replied, but his voice was rid of any teasing.

you felt a few butterflies dance in your stomach, but you wouldn’t let that have any visible affect on you. “i’d believe that if you didn’t have such a good poker face.”

his smile faltered slightly, “why would i lie to you?”

butterflies at this point your stomach was turning into a mosh pit at the point, “because you’re my friend and you’re annoying.”

he nodded, that kind of slow nod that said that he wasn’t following what you were saying at all. “fair. good point.”

“when do i not make good points? ” you asked, half laughing as you took a step back, not giving him any time to respond before you called out. “actually, don’t answer that! and don’t forget to wear some colour!”

—

to your surprise, he actually did wear some colour. and somehow, the colour of his tie complimented your dress perfectly. his suit was a mix of biege and grey, with a stark white button up underneath.

and true to his word, he was outside your door at exactly 6:45. gigi had left the house much earlier with noah — they were going to some indie concert before the dinner.

when you and grayson were brought to your table, you shared a surprised glance. noah and gigi were already sitting down, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen two people looking more blissfully happy in eachothers company. they couldn’t take their eyes off one another, so enamored with eachothers company.

when they noticed you two, noah smiled nervously as his eyes landed on grayson, and gigi nearly jumped in excitement.

—

“are you currently working?” grayson asked noah, before raising his glass to his lips.

you felt so bad for the nervous boy, this had been going on for the past 30 minutes. he was adorable in a puppy sense, he reminded you of a pug, or a golden retriever, maybe, with his curly caramel coloured hair, and big brown eyes hid behind circular frames, that stayed on gigi for the majority of the time.

“yes!” noah’s voice picked up, before he heard his own enthusiasm and cleared his throat.

“i’m a, uhm, veterinarian.” he spoke more leveled, and grayson didn’t say anything, so noah filled the silence between the table.

“my parents own multiple law firms around texas and some other states, but… it was never what i really liked.” he said with an almost wistful tone in his voice, “my siblings are all lawyers, but i prefer dealing with animal problems than people problems.” he added, chuckling nervously.

“yeah! he’s the cutest with cats, you should see it!” gigis voice was full of enthusiasm as her hand lightly grabbed noah’s upper arm, “but he’s actually a dog person, which is totally okay, actually! opposites attract!”

they looked at each other and shared a small laugh, while you thought:

opposites?

they were practically written in the same font, gigis was just in bold, with a little cat emoji beside the text. they worked so well, gigi once told you half asleep at 3 am; “you know, i think i’ve missed him in my life before i even knew him. does that make sense?”

quickly being brought back to the present, you smiled warmly at gigi, and soon enough conversation flowed between all four of you.

it wasn’t long before you lost all track of the conversation as you zoned out on what noah was doing to his plate.

he was pecking at his food, seemingly separating the chicken from his alfredo on one half of his plate, and the pasta on the other half.

this was going on for a full 2 minutes.

grayson turned to look at you as he noticed your unusual silence, and his eyes followed your focused gaze.

he gave noah a very stern questioning look, and noah looked confused as his eyes flicked between you two, wondering why you looked so confused.

“what?” he asked nervously, almost hesitant before looking down at his plate. “oh,” he realised your confusion, “i um—“

gigi seemed to have picked up on what was going on, “—he’s separating the chicken from his pasta for me because he doesn’t like it, and because i’m obsessed with it! isn’t that right noah?”

a sheepish smile grew on his face, before looking at gigi with so much love in his eyes, it made your heart warm and leap for your best friend. “yeah,” he said, “that’s right.”

grayson hummed bedside you, “oh, of course.” he offered them a small smile out of politeness— an unusual act for him, but you assumed it was for rare occasions like these when he saw the sheer happiness beam off gigi’s face.

he must’ve sensed it too; they were an odd couple, but they worked perfectly.

as if on cue, gigi reached over with her fork, abandoning all the cutlery rules she had been taught as a child, poked the chicken with the utensil and waved it just infront of to her mouth, “om nom nom,” she giggled as she looked at the curly headed boy beside her, non stop quiet laughter from the both of them as she put her fork down, not even taking the bite she intended.

you and grayson shared another glance, chuckling, but wondering what was so funny that they were still laughing— nothing objectively funny had even happened, she had just said one thing.

but you quickly realised that was one of the things that just wasn’t for you to get.

that was probably how people thought of you and gigi, you thought.

like when you’d be shaking with laughter with tears in your eyes over the stupidest things, and when someone would ask what’s so funny, they’d look at you strangely once you attempted to explain.

it was just for you two to get. and now, she had someone else to have that with.

you couldn’t have been more happy for that girl. she deserved it, more than anyone.

you were now thinking selfishly— wondering when you could experience that with someone you loved. even though you did have someone you loved so dearly: gigi, it was just like romance was just not in your playing field.

everyone you had talked to always expected something from you, or expected you to be someone you weren’t. that, or they just didn’t care.

you took your eyes to your hands, habitually fiddling with your fingers under the table to stop your thoughts from going any further.

it wasn’t the time to be acting like this. you looked up and your eyes found their way to grayson, who’s head turned just as his eyes caught yours for a split second.

he looked at his plate, gigi and noah’s laughter died down now, and grayson was already asking him another question about his life.

suddenly, you felt gigi’s leg nudge yours under the table, one of her ways of silently asking you if you were okay.

you nodded at her to let her know you were fine. and in response, she attempted to raise a interrogative brow — she told you she’d been trying to learn how to do grayson’s eyebrow raise — and then narrowed her eyes to comically thin slits.

“i’m okay,” you mouthed at her, but she gave you a look that said “we’re talking about this later,” before you both returned to the main conversation at the table.

the rest of the evening was fine, with the dim lighting and soft piano in the background and the quiet chatter from everyone else in the restaurant. you shared funny embarrassing stories

when the bill came, noah immediately reached for his wallet, fingers fumbling a bit as he pulled out his card. across the table, grayson was also pulling out his wallet.

“hey, it’s alright, i can pay” he said, glancing around the table with a nervous smile.

grayson briefly looked as he set his card down on the table. “allow me, it’s no worry.”

noah hesitated, glancing between grayson’s card and his own. “no, really—i want to,” he insisted, voice a little shaky but clearly set on it.

grayson shook his head lightly, "please, i insist.” the words were even and polite but left no room for argument.

“no, seriously, i have no problem paying—“

“and neither do i. please,”

“it’s okay, actually, i’d love to pay.” noah managed, scratching the back of his neck, looking between you, gigi, and then back at grayson.

your eyes flickered between the two like a tennis match. you and gigi exchanged a look, both stifling smiles as noah shifted uncomfortably. then gigi spoke.

"hey, how about i pay?"

both grayson and noah turned to her instantly, in sync, and said a definite, adamant,

"no."

you couldn’t hold back a snort, catching gigi’s eye as she rolled hers, before her face lit up with an idea.

finally, after an intense game of eenie meenie miney mo —suggested by gigi, noah payed.

grayson reluctantly put his card back in his wallet, tucking it back in his pocket as noah flashed gigi a nervous smile.

when they caught eachother’s eyes, grayson offered noah a slight nod, almost of respect. noah returned it with a smile.

you and gigi once again glanced at eachother. in both your eyes, that seemed like a success.

a/n: this is such a filler chapter but i wanted to properly introduce my new fav, noah, and showcase his bond with gigi 😋 I PINKY SWEAR there’s so much fluff in part 4 you might have to check in with ur local dentist…

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @hermesenthusiast

@littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou

@emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23

@imaseabear @soleilars @clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm

@lanterns-and-daydreams @graysw1fe

#grayson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x reader #the inheritance games #the grandest game #jameson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #nash hawthorne #tig #tgg #grayson hawthorne fluff #grayson hawthorne x you #grayson hawthorne headcanons #❦ jude writes

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ramp-it-up · 13 days ago

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Sugar, Cubed II:

Simple Sugar

Summary: I revisited Sugar and the boys from the Sugar is Sweet séries, and let me tell you. Bucky and Steve sure have grown up from their college days. They are no longer playing around. And they are coming for you. You're forced to be roommates with Steve again. But you can establish boundaries. It'll be simple, right?

Word Count: 3K

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader; mention of Bucky Barnes x Reader; boss Tony Stark x reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Not Beta’d. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Roommate/Co-worker au, S MUT! Angst, Tony is a shit boss, massive debt. forced proximity. Tattoo talk, Steve apologizes, accidental, then purposeful voyeurism, reference to porn and sex toys, masturbation, talk of impotence, raw p in v, rough sex, dirty talk, lots of cum, eventual polyandry. Basically, you are doomed. Porn with plot.

A/N: This is related to the Sugar is Sweet au, but can be read alone. This is part two to Sugar, Cubed. The next part is soon come! I hope you like it. This is part of Falloween 2024.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

——

After three days of calling in sick, you were summoned for a sit down with Mr. Stark.

This was not a, ”have a drink while Black Sabbath plays and you admire Tony’s t-shirt as he rambles” type of chat. This was, a “let’s review the terms of your contract in the boardroom with suits” type of meeting.

Tony’s eyes admired you in your silk blouse and pencil skirt as you arrived, then watched you pointedly at you as you reviewed the numbers on the page.

Half a million for your bachelor’s and masters degree at NYU. Almost as much for housing. Not to mention the penalty for breaking your contract early. Even if you were paid a pretty penny and you had a ton of savings, you’d still be digging yourself out of a hole for the rest of your life if you quit.

Tony Stark owned your ass.

But you were on the verge of not caring.

“I know, you are over your current working situation, Sugar. But I still believe in you. I believe in the team of BuckySugarSteve.”

You gave him a confused look.

“Still trying to find a hashtag, look that doesn’t matter. It’s come to my attention that a certain plucky Bucky took things a little too far the other night. I’m sorry you had to deal with that on my watch.”

Tony looked sincere. But you eyed him warily.

“Thinking back on what you said last week, I now agree that you need a break. So I’m sending you to the Tokyo lab. But only for a limited time.”

“How long?”

Tony stood and turned his back on you, looking out over the Hudson.

“Depends on the progress made on the project there.”

You stared at his back and his jet black hair and chewed your lip. You wanted out from the tension between the three of you. But there had to be a catch.

“What does the work entail?”

Tony turned back around with a smirk and explained the research and answered a few more questions from you. It seemed right in your skill set. Tony sat back down and crossed his ankle over his leg while he templed his fingers. He stared at you over the conference table.

“So what do you say Sugar?”

“I’m in.”

—--

You should have asked more questions.

Rage boiled inside you as you put up the partition on your business class seat and you typed away angrily on your phone. You shouldn’t have been surprised that your seatmate was Steve Rogers, but you were.

You just cursed as he greeted you and pulled out your phone as the flight attendant gave you the stink eye. Steve arrived just at the doors were closing. And there was no escape.

You wanted to throw your phone after you saw Tony’s response.

“I said you needed a break from Barnes, not Rogers. Suck it up and enjoy your time in Japan. Check out the expense account and your digs in Asakusa. You have to share, because space is at a premium in Tokyo, but you’ll survive.”

You didn’t bother to click the links that Tony sent. The living arrangements were sure to be top notch and the money was probably going to be great, but living with and working next to Steve was not what you were looking forward to.

You popped a sleeping pill and tried to sleep most of the 14 hour flight. After managing to get some rest, you were not as rude to Steve when you had to put down your partition. Luckily, he didn’t try to speak to you and you deboarded the plane and got your luggage and to your driver without incident.

When you got to your place, you were impressed, but anxious.

The place was modern and well placed within walking distance of the trains, but Tony was right. Your apartment in New York was twice the size of this place, and it was only you.

You went to investigate the sleeping situation. There were two small bedrooms and they were right next to each other. Only one had an en-suite.

You were chewing your lip, deep in thought when Steve interrupted reverie. His voice was hoarse from half a day of not being used.

“It’s close quarters, but I will make it so you don’t even know I’m here.”

You turned around to see Steve standing in the doorway of the room you’d silently called dibs on.

He looked like a kid, in his rumpled t-shirt and hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. You almost felt something.

But not quite.

“Look, Sugar. I’m sorry. I really am. What happened in the elevator was… Bucky’s got a lot going on–”

He stopped once he noticed that you had stiffened up at Bucky’s name.

“Don’t make excuses for him. If you want to apologize, take responsibility for what you’ve done. Or not done. On. Your. Own.”

You sat on the ground and opened up your suitcase. Steve watched you as you started to unpack, thoughtful.

“You’re right. I’m sorry I didn’t punch him in the mouth to shut the jerk up.”

You just shook your head, refusing to smile, even though you thought about it.

“And I am so very sorry for lying to you. No matter what the reason. I should not have done that.”

You looked up at him and you could see Steve’s adam’s apple bob in his throat multiple times. His nervous tell. But you continued to look him in the eye.

“You were right to react the way you did. And you’re right to want to be as far away from u- me as you want to be. I’ve lost the best thing that ever happened to me and it was entirely my fault.”

You had to break eye contact then. You didn’t want to cave. You turned the sweater you were folding over and over in your hands. You could hear Steve take a deep breath.

“I just want–”

He cleared his throat again.

“Shit, I want a lot of things, Sugar, but I hope we can be cordial, friends even? We used to be friends. We're in a new city, a new country, a new continent. We can have a lot of fun together.”

You looked back up at him.

“Like we used to?”

“A lot has happened since ‘we used to,’ Steven.”

His shoulders slumped.

“Well, I will stay out of your way.”

He turned around to get out of your space and you felt a pang of some kind of emotion that you did not want to name.

“Hey.”

Steve stopped and turned around, his face guarded.

“I’ve been on a plane for an entire day, and I just want breakfast even though it’s 4pm here. I think I’m hangry. Let me think about it.” That smile. Oh, if you still had a heart, he might do something to it.

“I think I saw some eggs and American breakfast fixins in the fridge. I’ll make you an omelet.”

Steve knew you were a slut for breakfast. Among other things.

—--

After eating and chatting, you conceded that you did want a shopping partner; you planned to hit up all the thrift stores and you wanted someone to take day trips with on the weekend. You decided on a truce. It may have been food induced, but you thought that you could set good boundaries with Steve, so you lay down some ground rules.

Steve agreed to everything you said.

After trying to stay up as long as you could, you were ready to turn in for the night. You had a couple of days before you needed to report to the lab, so you and Steve decided to explore your neighborhood and maybe do some touristy things, since Tokyo Tower and the Asahi brewery were right outside your window.

And then it happened.

You were minding your own business after your shower, in your thin cotton tank and sleep shorts, going to the kitchen to fill your water bottle. Suddenly, the hallway door opened and you ran into Steve coming out of the bathroom, naked except for a towel slung low on his waist and beads of water running down the planes of his extremely well made torso.

He almost ran into you.

“Oh, shit Sugar, I’m sorry….”

You’d stopped short and were staring at his left pectoral. There was new ink on the golden boy’s body.

And you couldn’t believe it.

Among the beads of water diving down his body to disappear under the towel, because why wouldn’t they, there was a chemical formula. And you couldn’t believe which one it was.

“How long have you had that?”

You were staring, and your hand reached out to touch it, but you pulled back before you made contact. You looked up into his eyes and then back down at the tattoo because you didn’t want to drown in his eyes like you used to.

But it seemed kind of inevitable now.

Sometime in the six months that you’d been broken up, Steve had gotten the compound for simple sugar tattooed on his body, (CH2O)x

“Sugar–”

“How long?”

You whispered it. And then dove into the blue depths of his eyes again.

“Two weeks after we broke up.”

His voice was impossibly deep, and threatened to reach places that you wanted to be unreachable. But you didn’t ask why.

“What was the thought process behind that decision, Steve?”

You didn’t ask why. But you needed to know the reason.

“Because it’s pretty simple, Sugar. You just wanted honesty. And if I had been honest, maybe we’d still be together. So I got this tattoo to remind myself that this is all I have left of the girl I loved the most. So maybe when I fall in love again, I won’t be such an idiot.”

“Wow.”

You reached out again and touched the tattoo. It had been right over his heart, without you knowing, for the better part of half a year.

Steve’s eyes stuttered closed and he drew in a sharp breath when you touched him.

“Sugar. You gotta know how…

You shook your head, blown away and rocked by what he said. Mostly the “when I fall in love again” part. You don’t know why that phrase echoed around your head.

“I’ve got to tell it all. Sugar, I thought in the back of my head that if you knew Bucky was hurt, that you’d go back to him.”

You closed your eyes, not wanting to sympathize with this grown ass man who lied to you so hard about someone you both loved, but you understood.

“So I lied, partly because he asked me to. But mostly because I was trying to keep you to myself.”

You sagged against the wall, still touching him, fingers grazing the mark that he’d made on his body for you. Steve followed you, not wanting the contact to end, and stood before you in the narrow hallway, naked except for a towel. He was closer than you’d allowed him to be in a while.

Finally, you looked up at him.

“You’re right, It is simple. I just wanted honesty. I wouldn’t have abandoned you for Bucky, Steve.”

Steve moved impossibly closer as his eyes flicked down your body. You remembered he had it memorized. Your chemistry was amazing. Not just the formula tattooed on his skin, but the draw of you to him, and him to you. You weren’t over that.

But you wanted to be.

One of Steve’s hands was on his towel, and the other was above your head. You were looking up at him and he down at you, and it was the perfect moment to kiss. But he didn’t make another move. You looked down and noticed that his towel had changed shape.

“Sugar…”

You looked him in the eyes again. It was all up to you.Your breathing was erratic and your panties were damp. Reaching up, you put your hands up on his pecs again.

This time to push him back.

“I think we need some rest.”

Steve backed up, toward his bedroom.

“Right. We need…”

Your need was mighty. But you weren’t giving in. You took a deep breath.

“Goodnight, Steve.”

“Night, Sugar.”

—-

You breathed a sigh of relief at your narrow escape and went in the kitchen to drink water and cool down. You mindlessly scrolled your phone for a few minutes and decided that you were calm enough to go to sleep. You glanced at Steve’s door as you opened yours, and you just had to stop.

His door was cracked just enough so you could see Steve sprawled on his bed, towel still on, still tented, and he was scrolling on his phone. He looked delicious, from the tattoo on his pec to his tiny tan nipples to his amazing abs and the trail of hair pointing to the large cock that you had memorized, and which was standing at attention under his towel.

He looked good enough to eat. And you had plenty of times. But those days were over.

You bit your lip as he rubbed his erection over the towel, and moved closer as he groaned a little bit.

Was he looking at porn?

You totally understood his frustration after what happened, and he was in the privacy of his own room, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. You felt guilty but you continued to watch him touch himself.

And as you wanted to touch yourself.

You stared at his open door as suddenly, the towel came off, and he was naked, and stunningly aroused, his face pure lust.

Steve Roger’s cock was gorgeous.

Your memories were nothing like the reality of him, thick and curved against his abs. He gripped the shaft, stroking it. Your hands found one of your nipples in the now-dark hallway, imagining kneeling for him.

You dreamed of his cock in your mouth and could practically feel yourself swirling tongue over his head and worshiping him as he told you what to do. The sensation him deep in your throat and letting him use it took over you.

You pinched your nipple tighter as he casually jerked himself off. You felt dirty, thinking how he’d feel knowing that you were watching him like this.

Would he be mad?

Or…

Stifling a whimper, you slid a hand into your shorts, smearing your wetness over your clit to trace fast, tight circles there. You hadn’t had anyone but electronic lovers and plastic since you broke up with Steve. And here he was, giving you a show.

You needed to see it. You wanted to see Steve cum, erupt, spill over his large, veiny hand, cream all over those abs. You moaned slightly as you imagined sucking it off those places.

His hand blurred on his shaft. Your clit hardened as you remembered his thick dick penetrating you, him fucking you well, calling you beautiful…

“Christ, Sugar, make me so hard. Take me so well. Cum with me Sweetheart…”

You were almost there and suddenly, Steve stopped. He got up, let go of his dick, walked to the light switch, give yon a look, and then plunged the room into darkness.

Then he closed the door.

You practically jumped into your room, pacing, shocked and excited, thoughts in a jumble.

Your phone buzzed in the pocket of your shorts.

It was a text from Steve.

“If you want more, just open my door. It’s unlocked. You can have anything you want. I want you. What do you want, Sugar?”

You are propelled into the hallway, to his door, hesitating only a moment. You’re just going to talk to him. Apologize. Tell him you would never do it again.

You were in his room now and the Tokyo moon cast shadows over his sleek torso. He was covered by the comforter, but you knew he was still hard.

“I always loved you in just tank tops. Those nipples are just begging to be sucked.”

His deep baritone made you launch yourself toward him. Steve caught you in his arms, both of you bouncing on the bed from the impact.

“What it’s gonna be, Sugar? What do you want?”

You are taking his hands and molding them to your breasts, throwing the covers off and straddling his thighs. You pulled your shorts and panties to the side so you could feel the slide and ridge of his cock catch on your clit as you slipped over him.

It felt electric.

“I want you Steve. Fuck it all. I want you.”

You’ve lost your mind. You’re creaming on his dick as his big, strong arms held you steady and you humped him like a mad woman.

“Fuck, it’s been so fucking difficult being hard as a rock all day working next to you in the lab, you ignoring me, and then not being able to get it up for anyone else…”

You were irrationally angry.

“Mine.”

You grabbed Steve’s cock and moved your thighs, lifting up and pushing his fat head into your cunt. You glared at him as you slowly sunk down on him, his thick shaft slowly opening you up.

It hurt so good.

Your head lolled back on your neck as Steve pulled your tank top down and started brutally sucking your nipples.

“Fuck yeah, it’s yours. Fit me like a fucking glove.”

Steve held you down for a few seconds as he pushed up into you as if he was going to lock on on his cock, then he lifted you up by your waist and started pounding you from beneath.

He stared up at you in the moonlight and you could feel his cock jump inside you.

“Didn’t matter what I did, who it was. Couldn’t fuck anyone else. Had to come home and pull up pictures of you.”

Steve was moving you now, just like a fleshlight, thumb at your clit.

“I’m about to fucking bust, and you better fucking cum around my cock before I do. Been too godamn long, Sugar.”

You moaned erotically at the thought of Steve impotent with everyone else but you.

He groaned in response and squeezed your nipple brutally. You quaked with your orgasm and Steve erupted mid pump, his spend spurting out as he moved in and out of you.

“Fuuuuu-uuuck!”

You collapsed backward on the bed as Steve continued to pump, impossibly still hard even after he came. You reached down into the copious wetness and circled your clit, wanting to prolong the sensation, and Steve groaned/laughed as you convulsed around him again.

You were a tangle of limbs, fluid, sweat and wet cloth as you came down.

Steve pulled you up, you got out of his bed and walked back to your bedroom, turning on the shower.

As you climbed into your bed, Steve was already there, re-showered himself. You fell asleep in Asakusa, Tokyo, Japan, tracing his tattoo, and wondering if it really was that simple, Sugar.

——

Did you like it? Let me know!

Next part soon. 😮‍💨

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vampzity · 9 months ago

Text

𝙈𝙮 𝙊𝙙𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙔𝙤𝙪..

Pairing: idol! hongjoong x f!reader

Genre: fluff, bit of angst, valentine’s day, one shot, valentines series, pet names (mama), mini idol au, rapper au, strong language, arguing

Synopsis: It’s Valentine’s Day, probably one of your favorite holidays to spend with Hongjoong who you’ve been with for almost 4 years now. You both planned to go out for dinner at a new 5-star restaurant that opened in Seoul, which critics and fellow idol friends raved about. Hongjoong told you days before that he’d meet you at the restaurant after he finished up with the boy’s studio time for their upcoming album and you were okay with that. However, when you arrive, he’s not present. What seems like minutes soon turns into an hour as his presence never shows. Did you get stood up,.. on Valentine’s Day?

Now Playing: Star 1117 - ATEEZ

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: welcome to the first member involved in my Valentine’s Day series! I will be doing all Ateez members and will be uploading on different days, so please be patient :)) enjoy!

Masterlist Seonghwa's Pt.

“Ugh.. where is he??!!”

You sat in the corner of a restaurant growing impatient as time continued to pass. It was now 8 o’clock and your reservation time was for 6. Constantly checking your phone for notifications, even for calls from him hoping that he’d respond and he wasn’t actually blowing you off. Blow you off for what though? You guys have been together for almost 4 years now.. why now? Why would he all of a sudden abandon you without explanation?

You unlocked your phone, quickly clicking on your conversation to text him again.

You: Where are you??!!! It’s been 2 hours now! Hongjoong, we’ve planned this for weeks now.. there’s no way you’d just forget?!

You locked the phone and set it back on the table, looking around once more as you tried to fight back the tears ready to fall. Another message just ignored like the 5 messages and 10 calls you’ve sent.

“Miss, it’s getting to be 8 now. Would you like to take your order now? If not, I’m going to have to ask you to leave… I’m sorry.”

A young man dressed in a suit and tie stood before you, a worried look settled on his face as he held the menu in his hands. Anger took hold of you as you grabbed your phone and put your jacket on quickly. Apologizing to the waiter, you stormed out of the restaurant, feeling a rush of tears slide down your embarrassed cheeks. You grabbed your phone, anxious to even call the drivers that served under your boyfriend’s company. You looked up at the sky, feeling a small breeze hit your face as you sighed.

“I can’t fucking believe this.”

Your eyes met the horizon as you lowered your head, beginning to walk towards the home both you and Hongjoong shared. You didn’t need the drivers contacting Hongjoong about your sudden change of plans from the restaurant if they didn’t see him there with you. You didn’t want him to contact you at all. He ignored you for practically half of the day, and wouldn’t even respond to the texts and calls you repeatedly sent him. Now look, walking home alone, sad and hungry. How could you ever forgive him for this?

You sighed once more, unlocking your phone to call Hongjoong one last time before completely giving up. However, after a couple of rings, you were met with his voicemail once again.

“Hey! This is Hongjoong! Sorry I couldn’t pick up your call but I’ll be sure to get back to you soon! Leave a message! BEEP—”

You felt your body heat up as anger fueled you more and more, your face flushing with it as well. As much as you hated arguing, even yelling with him, you could no longer resist. He deserved to hear your pain, hear how upset he made you, how he abandoned you with no explanation on Valentine’s Day of all days.

“I can’t believe you! How could you do this to me?? On Valentine’s Day Jjoong? Are you kidding me?!” You felt waves of hot tears begin to fall down your cheeks again as your lips quivered. “You couldn’t even return my texts, couldn’t call me at least to let me know a change of plans?! You left me there for 2 hours, 2 whole fucking hours Jjoong!!! Why now?! Why do you want to suddenly ditch me like this now?!”

You paused to catch your breath as your tears began to feel choking. When was the last time you’ve cried like this? All you felt was sadness, betrayal, broken-heartedness, and embarrassment. How could this happen to you of all people?

“Don’t even think about returning a call. Whenever you decide to come the fuck home, maybe then we can talk. Goodbye. Hongjoong.” Forwarding the voicemail to him, you muted his texts and calls as you didn’t want to speak to him. Making it home, you unlocked the door, closing it aggressively behind you. You just wanted to take a shower and go to bed, not even wanting to think about what a horrendous Valentine’s this has been. You wish the day would be over, that you never would’ve had to experience it in the first place.

You replaced your shoes with your slippers at the door and made your way upstairs towards the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were red and puffy from the countless breakdowns you had on your walk home. Dried-up mascara stained your cheeks, only making you frown at your bland expression. You signed and removed your coat, placing it on the counter. Walking to turn the shower faucet on, you daydreamed of what the date would’ve been like if he had just shown up as promised.

Buzz, buzz.

Your phone had interrupted your thoughts but quickly grabbed your attention as you hadn't received a notification in hours. You scurried over to it, seeing a phone call from an unsaved number, not even a recognizable one. Your gut told you to pick it up, you’re not sure why but that’s exactly what you did.

“Hello? Who’s this?”

There was silence on the other end for a moment making you question if it was a scammer. You rolled your eyes ready to hang up until a familiar voice responded softly.

“Hello..? Y/n? It’s me, San!”

Your eyes lit up a bit at hearing him. It gave you a slight sense of relief to hear someone after the day you’d been having. Even though it wasn’t the exact person you’ve been wanting to hear from, it was still better than nothing.

“San?! How did you get my number? And it’s almost 10 o’clock! What are you doing still up?”

“I’m surprised he even is up!”

You heard a faint yell in the back as a few snickers followed behind. San groaned as he began to bicker with the other body in the room.

“Wooyoung shut up! I can stay up past 9 just like you gu— yea yea I’m sure you can, sleeping beauty!”

More laughter began to be heard through the phone as Wooyoung cut San off mid-sentence to insult him. The young man groaned heavily as he excused himself from the call, everything going silent for a second. You were sure he muted himself just to scold his younger friend and others who laughed at him in the room. It made you wonder if Hongjoong too, was in that room with them. You heard a door slam as San began to take himself off of mute.

“Sorry about that, you know how much of a pain Woo is..”

You laughed a bit, feeling at ease while talking to San. San has always been the kindest out of all the members to you, all the others were nice but San always made sure you were okay. He went out of his way to help you out and talk to you whenever he could. You guys were practically best friends.

“Anyways, I’m just calling to check up on you.. are you alright?? Captain says he’s been trying to call you for the last 30 minutes and you weren’t answering..”

Your heart sunk a bit at hearing San mention Hongjoong. So he was still with them?! This entire time?! You stood silent for a bit as your thoughts of what to say ate away at you.

“I’m okay.” You responded coldly, feeling a welt of sadness beginning to wash over you once again. You weren’t sure how to relieve your pain to San and as much as you wanted to speak to Hongjoong, you knew you needed the space to prevent lashing out on him.

“Y/n? It’s okay, I already know what’s going on.”

You froze a bit, not sure of how to proceed as you heard a small sigh come from the other side of the phone. You swallowed the lump in your throat as nervousness washed over you, your hands becoming clammy. San cleared his throat before proceeding to speak to you.

“I know you may not wanna speak to Hyung right now, but you should come to the studio. He has something for you here.”

You groaned as you rolled your eyes, knowing you just wanted to be left alone for the rest of the night. The last thing you needed was to be reminded of what a beautiful Valentine’s this was.

“I don’t know Sannie. I kind of just want to be alone right now.”

“Please?? I promise you won’t regret it, and you won’t believe how incredibly sorry Hyung is right now... I’ve never seen him this sad..”

San’s words felt like a stab to your heart. He’s never been this sad? Anger left your body slowly, not only feeling drained from the day but yearning for Hongjoong. Maybe you went a bit overboard, maybe it was all a harmless mistake but at this time, it was too late to take anything you said back. You’ve never yelled or lashed out at Hongjoong as you did in the voicemail, and to know all 7 of his members heard it? You felt embarrassed for him.

“Sannie, I’m sorry. I just want to be alone. Tell Hongjoong I’ll be home. Goodnight.”

“I understand, goodnight y/n.”

The phone hung up and you felt your body ache. The amount of hurt you felt in your heart was too much to bear. You turned off the bathroom light and made your way downstairs to the couch, lying down on the cushions. You placed your phone on the table by the couch and closed your eyes. Tears slowly escaped them as you sniffed and sooner or later, your drained body took over, drifting you into a deep slumber.

Hongjoong got out of the car, thanking the driver for a safe ride home. He made eye contact with the members who traveled in this van with him, their eyes worrying about what awaited him at home. The silence remained for a moment when Seonghwa spoke up.

“Be gentle with her. Remember this has never happened in your relationship, let alone to her. She’s probably feeling little at the moment.”

Seonghwa gave a soft reassuring smile to Hongjoong, an agreeing nod being returned by the two other members in the vehicle. Hongjoong sighed as he smiled softly. “Thank you, Hyung. I appreciate the advice.” He waved goodbye to Seonghwa and the others as the driver closed the door, making his way back to the driver’s seat.

The car sped off and he began to open the door, closing it behind him as he placed his jacket on the coat hanger. The house was dark as if you were never home in the first place. He changed into his house slippers, quickly seeing you sleeping soundly on the couch with a small frown on your face.

Hongjoong’s heart sank as he witnessed the sight of you. How you didn’t even bother to change out of the clothes you wore for him today, how your dried-up mascara stained your cheeks. You were genuinely so hurt over his disappearance, especially when it never happened before. He admired what you picked out for him. It was a silky spaghetti-strapped black dress, with a small slit on the left side. He noticed your favorite pair of sparkly black heels by the door, about 4 inches high. All things he had gotten you the last few weeks, to wear for today.

Hongjoong walked over to you quietly, wrapping his arms under you he picked you up bridal style, beginning to carry you up the stairs to your shared bedroom. You hummed softly, still half asleep as you couldn’t register what was going on. He opened the door, softly placing you on your side of the bed and pulling the blanket over you. He left the room for a moment before returning with a warm wet rag and some of your makeup wipes. Kneeling beside your face, he softly wiped off any makeup you had left remaining being sure not to wake you up.

As he began to leave the room again, you opened your eyes, confused as to how you ended up in your bedroom. You turned your head towards the bathroom door, hearing the sound of a running faucet on. Sitting up, you began to wipe your eyes as Hongjoong re-entered the room, pausing when you too met eyes. He wore a pair of black slacks and a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up, followed by a dark blue tie hanging from the collar of his neck. He stood there frozen, not sure if the next few words he spoke would upset you once again.

“Mama, please I’m sorry. I swear I can explain,” he spoke softly, his hands beginning to fiddle with each other. He looked down at the ground, expecting only the worst from you after your voicemail. Your heart skipped a beat, not expecting him to reference your nickname even during the heart of an argument.

You sat silent for a second, unsure of what to say. As much as you wanted to be angry, you knew it wasn’t the answer. You could tell how heartbroken he was to hear how you reacted, to see you asleep on the couch still in your clothing. The last thing you wanted to do was put up a fight.

“Where have you been all this time??? We had planned this for weeks Jjoong, do you know how embarrassed I was??”

No words were shared between you two. Hongjoong made his way over to his desk, sitting in the roller chair. You glared at him for a moment, before slowly looking away. “I know, I seriously fucked up. Please just let me explain.” He looked at you with worried eyes, not sure of where to start his story but all he could feel was a sense of guilt dawning on him as he pleaded for your attention. You nodded softly, eyes reaching back to meet his, giving him your full attention.

“Yes, I was at the studio. My phone died while I was there and no one had a charger. I told Wooyoung to remind me when it hit 5:30 so that I could meet you at the restaurant.” He looked down at his business attire and sighed as he put his head in his hands.

“I was already changed by 3:30 in case, but time went by... Wooyoung forgot to tell me, which led me being caught up in our work for today. By the time San arrived, by the time I got a charger, I knew it was too late. I was wrong... it was an asshole move. You didn’t deserve to be blown off like that and I’m so sorry, Mama. You don’t even need to forgive me. Shit, I wouldn’t. I understand completely how wrong I was to do this to you. To even plan anything at all for today when it should’ve been about us.. about you..”

Silence began to engulf you both as you were left speechless by his confession and apology. He sighed softly as he went onto his computer, clicking away through apps and files until he stopped, facing you again.

“You don’t have to say anything, Mama. It’s okay,” He smiled at you softly, brushing his black hair back out of his eyes. “This is what we worked on today. This is why I got so caught up in the studio..” He pats the bedside next to him, gesturing for you to come sit by him. You furrowed your eyebrows at him, rolling your eyes.

“Jjoong, what does this have to do with what we’re talking about right now??”

He shook his head and continued to pat the bed. “Please... it’s for you.” You sighed and scooted by him as he began to hit play on the track. It was a slower song, something you normally weren’t used to when it came to his writing. As the lyrics began to play, you noticed familiar writing within the song. You looked up at him, his eyes remaining closed as he began to feel like one with the song.

That’s when it hit you. Notes from your letters. They were small lines taken from letters that you had sent Hongjoong when you were abroad for college. Lines expressing your love for him, how much you had missed him and wished to hold him in your arms. How the stars in the sky reminded you of him, twinkling so brightly on the clearest days.

You felt tears began to swell in your eyes as every lyric began to hit sentimentally. Hongjoong looked up as he began to hear your sniffles and pulled your arm to sit in his lap. He held you tightly as you cried into his shoulder, apologizing repeatedly for lashing out at him earlier. He rubbed your back slowly, reassuring you over and over that it was okay and he deserved to know how upset you were with him.

The song hit you in a way that you’d never think of. To know Hongjoong had spent his entire afternoon composing and recording this song for you? Making sure the members sang every part exactly how he wanted to please you. How could you continue to be angry with him after this?

“Jjoong—”

He shushed you and held you tighter, resting his head against yours. He planted a soft kiss on your forehead, apologizing once more. “Don’t say anything Mama, you did nothing wrong. I hope you liked the song... I spent weeks working on this for your gift, even if the day went wrong.”

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting as you smiled softly. You nodded, nuzzling your nose against his own. You placed a small kiss on his cheek, bringing your thumb up to caress it slowly. “Words can’t explain how much I loved it. Thank you.”

Hongjoong returned a smile to you, placing his hand on top of your own on his face. He gazed into your eyes for a second, taking in this precious moment he had with you. One he wouldn’t trade for the world, not even a stupid Valentine’s dinner.

“What’s the song called?” You mumbled softly, hand still placed on his cheek as your cocked your head to him. He closed his eyes, his smiling widening.

“Star 1117.”

Your eyes lit up at this, realizing the small reference in the title. 11/17, the day you guys officially started dating. Star simply for the meaning of guidance, as sailors used it to guide their way through the oceans. To you personally, it was also what you had nicknamed Hongjoong. You saw him as your star, always shining even through the cloudiest of days in the sky. He was your guidance in this game called life and you couldn’t be any less grateful for him.

“Want to know my favorite lyric? Something you wrote for me?” You nodded at his words, eager whenever he talked about his lyrical logic.

“I will protect you forever, and forever you are my star..”

divider creds: @cafekitsune

A/N: i thought the meaning for Star 1117 was so cute, I had to incorporate it into this somehow. :’) *updated Seonghwa's part is now out!*

Tag list:@skzline @evidive @kittykat-25 @amuromio @xoxkii @losrpark @classyrbf @sundaybossanova @owmoiralover @vrtualsins @sanslovesblog

*comment to be part of future taglists!*

#—♡vampzity #—♡︎vamp’s soft hours #ateez #ateez fanfic #kpop #atiny #ateez x reader #ateez atiny #hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #oneshot #ateez oneshot #valentines day #angst with a happy ending #light angst #fluff

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carmyberzattosjournal · 14 days ago

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Entry 29: Crossed Wires

Screenshot Credit: @boardchairman-blog

Bearblr Promptober Day 29: Corruption (sorta? I tried)

Summary: Carmy's girlfriend (who he calls Darling) introduces him to impact play (flogger), and it wrecks his wiring. Mild smut.

Warnings: Swearing, mentioned fight with Syd, Richie and Nat, casual suicidal thought (1), impact play (flogger), fem reader/lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns. (1006 words)

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list. Sideblog for commentary and yapping: @m-z-shoroi

Also, if random letters or words are black/white instead of the colors they should be, that's Tumblr being dumb, I've been fighting it for weeks.

29 Oct 2024

Darling crossed a lot of my wires, but her magnum opus had to be soldering the ones for pain and pleasure together.

The anticipation of getting hit sat as this half-molten brick of brimstone in the pit of my stomach. It churned with the heat of magma, bubbling up as licks of flames that, in the fleeting but eternal minutes I waited kneeling next to the bed with my forehead resting on my folded arms, I could almost feel at the roof of my mouth. I’d spit flames, I was sure of it, if the eon stretched any longer, and they’d fucking annihilate whatever small fragments of me remained coincidentally affixed together after the thrashing I received that day. If I wasn’t non-linear, if I wasn’t being scraped off the fucking pavement and put into a jar when Richie, Syd, Sugar, and I all exploded at each other, it was because of negligence. Because one or some of their barbs was aimed lazily enough to miss the fucking target—not because I had any connective tissue holding me together. I don’t often want to die, but at The Bear partly through prep that day, an otherwise nondescript Monday? I prayed Richie would grab a knife from the block and tear it across my throat.

“What’s your safeword, sweetheart?” Darling whispered from behind me.

The sound of leather groaning as she, in all likelihood, twisted the flogger around her hand, pierced the silence further.

“Mercy.” It barely made it past my throat.

Cool strands of leather brushed across my bare back, between my shoulder blades, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Goosebumps exploded along my arms.

“Shhhhh…” She wove her fingers into and gripped a fistful of my hair. “Relax. Remember, we don’t have to do th—”

“Please, just fucking hit me already,” I whimpered.

“I will once you relax, pretty boy.”

“Fuck you.” It left my mouth before I could stop it. My face erupted in heat. I drew in a breath to apologize, but she cut me off.

“I know. I get it. It’s okay.”

My mouth wouldn’t move. Wouldn’t produce the apology. A whooshing sound, then a crack, then a sting between my shoulder blades. Exactly like a jump rope to the ankle. Exactly like she’s said it would’ve felt.

“Fuck!” I hissed. I gripped fistfuls of the sheets and recoiled against the pain.

It surprised me more than it hurt, at first. Not the pain, but the little surge of heat in my navel, dangerously close to arousal. Then, the sting faded into warmth and tightness, like something was tugging at my skin. And then the pain came back. Duller. Deeper. Irritating, almost. I wanted her to rake her nails over it.

Oh, I was fucked.

“D-do it again,” I said. “Please.”

Fucked straight to hell.

“That wasn’t too hard, was it, sweet—”

“N-no. No. P-please do it again.”

The second one had that initial spark of pain, but then the sensation went away. Melted into the same dull, distant tightness that was already present. But holy fuck, it felt heavenly. My dick stirred, halfway to half-hard, and all I could think of was—

“Again? Please?”

She didn’t hesitate this time, and I couldn’t stop a groan from tearing from my chest.

“Oh.” She curled her hand around my throat and lifted my head to greet me with a wicked grin. “Oh, does that feel good, pretty boy?”

She wasn’t squeezing, but it was just enough pressure for blood to pool in my head, and I got that fuzzy, floaty feeling. My dick strained in my sweatpants, and all I could do was press up against the side of the bed, try to chase down some friction. My eyes fluttered closed without my consent. Please, squeeze harder. Please, please, fucking crush me in your hands, call me pretty boy again, leave bruises, leave shadows like a fucking dog collar that I can take with me tomorrow. Maybe I’ll act less like a wild fucking animal. Maybe it’ll feel like you’re there and I won’t fucking lose it.

“I asked you a question, pretty boy.” Gentle.

I pried my eyes open. Whispered, “Y-yes.”

Something about seeing her like that, effortlessly in control, a Goddess hovering over me, powerful, commanding, the handler of a rabid animal—listen, I will take Darling however she comes to me. I love her so much, I’ll give her my ribs. I love her so much, it feels like it’s killing me, but I will lie in that grave if it means I can listen to her voice, be enveloped by the scent of her skin, taste her strawberry lip balm, but something about her being in control destroys me. I’m helplessly caught in the riptide of her existence, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. I will give you anything, my love. I am yours. My whole being is at the foot of your throne. I trust you to nurture and protect me more than I do my own blood.

Do with me what you please, my love.

It wasn’t for five heartbeats, wasn’t until I saw her eyes darken, that I realized I whispered it aloud.

The next one stung less than the first two. The one after unlocked some feral part of me that I didn’t know existed, and I bit the side of my hand to keep myself from screaming. Not out of pain, it was something else. Something reflexive, primal, felt like it was damn near under my diaphragm. I was too hot. I didn’t have any layers to remove, and the radiator was still out, so it should’ve been cold in the room, but I was burning up. The sinking, molten arousal in the pit of my stomach undulated and coiled with every strike until one of them, a random one—nothing special about it—set off stars in my vision and ripped a pathetic cry from my throat.

End note: this piece is truncated. The writing fatigue has thoroughly set in. I might write the rest of the scene at a later date.

That was the moment. That’s when the wires crossed.

Part II

#cb journal #bearblrpromptober #carmen berzatto #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #the bear #carmen berzatto smut #carmy smut

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7s3ven · 11 months ago

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ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU. oliver wood

( master list )

IN WHICH… Nothing would make Oliver Wood happier than getting a new broom as his Christmas present. That, or Y/N Malfoy finally noticing him. When the two collide at Hogsmeade, Oliver is overjoyed. Perhaps this Christmas, he’ll get two gifts.

“I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know. Make my wish come true. All I want for Christmas is you.”

—

“Ah, he’s staring again.” Fred Weasley nudged his twin brother George and pointed over at Oliver. “Do you think he’ll ever actually talk to her?”

“I’ve seen them talk once.” George uttered, his mouth full and his cheeks puffed out. “It was in their second year.”

Fred lightly snorted and waved a hand in front of Oliver’s face. “Wood, you there? You’re drooling this time while staring at her.”

Oliver was snapped out of his trance by the twins’ loud laughter. He frowned. “Knock it off.” He told the pair, taking a sip from his goblet.

“Oh, come on mate, you gotta talk to L/N otherwise she won’t even know you exist.” Fred sighed and quickly added, “And quidditch talk doesn’t count.”

Oliver huffed and rolled his eyes. Talking to Y/N was an almost impossible feat, not just to him. She was Draco Malfoy’s older sister and was basically untouchable. She was Slytherin’s prized queen and the chances of Oliver even being able to talk to her with her posse around was close to zero.

“I’ll talk to her eventually.” He uttered the same excuse he had been using since fourth year. His crush had lasted way too long but he was still determined to win Y/N over.

She wasn’t like the other Slytherins with their mean glares and tendencies to outcast people who weren’t pureblood. She was… nice. Her friends, however, weren’t.

“You’ve fancied her since third year, Oli.” Fred uttered, “Probably before that as well! Just make a move already!”

Oliver’s crush hadn’t begun during first year. It had started before that when he was rushing around Diagon Alley trying to find all his school supplies.

Oliver panted as he attempted to catch his breath. All afternoon he had been rushing from shop to shop to find all the books he needed for his first year at Hogwarts.

He held a pile of novels in his arms and momentarily stopped to marvel at the window of a broom shop. His awe was short lived as someone crashed into his back, sending his supplies everywhere.

“Ah! I’m sorry! I just wanted to look at the new broom!” A H/C-haired girl hurried to pick Oliver’s things up. She shoved everything into his arms, apologizing again.

“You… like Quidditch?” Oliver asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Huh? Of course. Who doesn’t? My father took me to see a game once and it was amazing. Some day, I want to join Hogwarts’ team.”

It was as if Oliver had met his dream girl.

“You’re going to Hogwarts too?!” Oliver exclaimed, his eyes sparkling.

“Yeah! I assume you’re also going, so maybe I’ll see you around.” She outstretched her arm to shake Oliver’s hand, but a black cane pushed her back.

“Don’t socialise with the trash, Y/N.” A man with long blond hair uttered, scowling. Oliver instantly recognized the man as Lucius Malfoy.

“I’ll see you around, Quidditch boy!” Y/N shouted as her father led her away.

That day, Oliver was reminded of where he stood in the scheme of things. He was a lowly half-blood while Y/N came from one of the most esteemed families.

Ever since that day, Oliver had been a little frightened to talk to Y/N, just in case she also referred to him as trash.

Y/N never did end up joining Slytherin’s Quidditch team. Her brother did instead. Oliver guessed it has something to do with her refusal to cheat, and Slytherin was infamously known for cheating.

“Say, are you going to Hogsmeade today, Oli? Perhaps to do a little last minute Christmas shopping?” George questioned, his lips curling into a smirk that could only mean one thing. Trouble.

“If you want to play one of your stupid pranks on me, forget it.” He stood up and silently walked away.

“Ah. He’s in a bad mood because of Y/N again. Jeez.” George rolled his eyes as he stabbed his fork into a carrot.

Oliver was going to visit Hogsmeade, but only to look at Quidditch shops and browse through the technique books. A Hufflepuff girl had asked him out, but he politely refused her offer.

Oliver shoved his hands deep into his warm pockets as he trudged through the thick snow. Hogsmeade wasn’t as busy as it usually was, but that was probably because most sane people wanted to avoid the cold.

The Quidditch captain made an immediate beeline for the broom store. He smiled as he gazed at the window display before entering.

“Good morning!” He kindly greeted the owner, who was an old lady hard of hearing. He immediately walked towards a shelve of books, running his finger over the hard covered spines.

The door opened again, the rusty bell attached to it quietly chiming. “Good morning, Gen!” A feminine voice shouted, piercing the calming atmosphere. Oliver peeked through the books, curious as to who the newcomer was. He could see their winter outfit but not their face.

The girl skipped over to the books, standing on the opposite side of Oliver. She locked eyes with him, and he could see her eyes squint as he smiled, meaning it was a genuine one.

The pair occasionally glanced at each other, jumping when they accidentally made eye contact. The girl tucked a strand of H/C hair behind her hair, quietly humming under her breath. She walked around to the other side of the bookshelf, almost crashing into Oliver.

His heart leaped in his chest as he grabbed Y/N and steadied her. “Sorry.” He said, not being able to muster up any more words.

Y/N silently stared at his face before she gasped. “Oh! Quidditch boy!” She exclaimed, grinning. “I knew I recognized those eyes!” When Oliver sent her a confused look, she laughed. “I’m the girl from Diagon Alley! Before first year, remember?”

“I remember… I’m just wondering why you do.”

“I spent most of my first year looking for you! But I never got your name so it was a bit hard. Then when you joined the Quidditch team and played your first match, I recognized you. I wanted to talk to you after but you seemed to have so many fangirls. I got shy!It’s been ages, jeez. How are you?”

Y/N grinned, an action that set butterflies free in Oliver’s stomach. His cheeks flushed red as he nervously smiled back.

“I’ve… been good. How about you? You never joined the Quidditch team.”

“Well, I don’t exactly like Flint and Draco is already on the team. They don’t need two Malfoy’s.” Y/N sheepishly smiled and laughed.

“I saw you play as a chaser during flying class. You were great. You should join the team some time.” That compliment coming from Oliver Wood, Gryffindor’s very own keeper, was a huge deal. “You’d be a wonderful addition. If only you were in Gryffindor.”

Y/N quietly laughed. “Maybe we’d actually be able to spend time together.” Her gaze flickered to the book Oliver was grasping, “Are you going to buy that? I’ve been looking for a copy of it.” She smiled, and Oliver didn’t have the strength to keep the book to himself when she was looking at him like that.

“No.” He uttered, “I was only looking at it. Here.” He handed it to Y/N.

“Are you sure?” She asked, to which Oliver nodded. “Thanks. I’ll let you borrow it. See you at school, Oliver.” She grinned again, skipping off to purchase the book.

Oliver stared at the ground, chuckling to himself as his cheeks turned rosy red.

School was finally coming to an end. Thank goodness. Oliver didn’t know how much more studying he could take before his brain gave up.

He returned to his dorm, tired and relieved to finally be returning home today. From his dorm, he heard his friends gasp.

“Ay, mate, there’s something on your bed for you.” One uttered as Oliver ended.

He tilted his head to the side and glanced at his mattress. A badly wrapped present sat on it along with a small card and the book he had let Y/N take.

Oliver grabbed the card, curiously staring at the cursive writing.

Consider this an early Christmas gift and my overdue apology on my father’s behalf (for calling you trash). You’re fun to talk to and I hope to see you around next year.

Merry Christmas, Oliver.

- Y/N

Oliver peeled the wrapping paper, almost choking when he saw the newest edition broom. It was shined and groomed to perfection and Oliver was sure he was going to pass out from excitement.

He slowly grasped the book, opening to the first page that was tabbed by a green sticky note.

On the blank page was the writing,

Merry Christmas, Oliver Wood

And underneath was the signature of Oliver’s favourite Quidditch player.

“She’s freaking amazing.” Oliver muttered under his breath, wondering how Y/N had even managed to pull all this off.

Oliver flipped through the pages, noticing how Y/N had annotated the book on his behalf. He was only falling deeper in love.

“I’m going to find Y/N.” He announced to his friends, who cheered.

“Go get ‘er, tiger!”

Oliver hurried out of the common room, wondering where on earth Y/N would be. The castle was huge, it would take him all day to find her. Luckily, he spotted Draco Malfoy walking down the corridor.

“Malfoy.” Oliver called out.

Draco sighed, rolling his eyes. “If you’re looking for my sister, she’s at the Black Lake. Don’t tell my parents you like her otherwise my stupid ship will be ruined.” And with that, he walked off.

Oliver ignored his odd words and rushed to the Black Lake. He saw Y/N sitting alone and humming to herself as she picked at the green blades of grass.

“You didn’t have to get me a broom, you know.” Oliver said, startling Y/N. She jumped slightly.

“You scared me! It wasn’t that much anyway… and it was on sale. So you don’t need to worry.”

Oliver spluttered. Not that much money? It was more than him and his friends’ bank accounts! Even if they combined all their money, it still wouldn’t be enough.

“The book by itself would have sufficed.” Oliver uttered as he took a seat next to Y/N.

“Yeah. But I had to up my game because other girls were eyeing you up.” Y/N grinned as she stood up, dusting the dirt off her skirt, “Merry Christmas, Oli. See you next year.”

Oliver spent his days before Christmas with the Weasley twins and more of his friends. Even Harry Potter was there. But one person was missing, much to his disappointment.

On Christmas Eve, he pondered what Y/N’s words at the Black Lake had meant. “I had to up my game because other girls were eyeing you up”. Did Y/N… like him back?

Oliver sighed, rushing to turn the lamp on his desk on. He pulled out a thick piece of parchment paper and began to messily scribble down his thoughts and everything he didn’t have the courage to say to Y/N in real life.

Oliver stared at his letter, sighing. He tried not to think too much as he rolled it up and sent his owl to the Malfoy Manor.

Meanwhile, Y/N was sitting by her window, relaxing as the fresh breeze blew through her hair. She heard a quiet chirp and opened her eyes to see an unfamiliar brown owl in front of her. It cooed and tilted its head.

Y/N slowly took the letter that was attached to the owl’s leg and got comfortable before she unravelled it.

Dear Y/N,

I know this letter may be unexpected and strange, especially since it’s Christmas Eve but those words you told me at the Black Lake are still stuck in my head. It feels a little lonely without you around. I’m going to be honest here… and hopefully you won’t laugh at how I pour my heart out.

I like you, Y/N. Not just for your looks or your family. You’re gorgeous, but there’s so much more to you that other guys can’t see for some reason. You’re kind and caring and you may as well be in Hufflepuff. Your ambition is admirable and you really know how to light up a room, even if it’s a room as big as the Great Hall.

You don’t look down on other people because they aren’t pure blood or come from a family like yours. Instead, you help them. There’s so many qualities that make you stand out from the crowd and I’m not expecting a reply any time soon, but I just thought you should know all this.

Santa Claus won’t really make me happy with a toy on Christmas Day. Y/N, I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know. Please Make my wish come true. All I want for Christmas… is you <3.

- Oliver Wood

P.S, thanks for the broom and book. I’m still trying to find a gift to top that.

Y/N’s lips curved into a smile as she read Oliver’s letter. Her room door was suddenly slammed open. Y/N couldn’t react fast enough and all she could do was place the letter face down on her bed.

“Father.” She greeted him, surprised that he was even home. He was supposed to be on a business trip. “What… are you doing here?”

“Receiving love letters already, Y/N?” Her father carelessly grabbed the parchment, his gaze scanning over the beautifully crafted words. After a moment, he nodded. “What is his blood status?”

Y/N looked at the ground, thickly gulping. “… Half-blood.” She uttered after a second of hesitation.

Her father silently nodded, his stern face never changing. “I’ll allow it.”

“W-What?” Y/N stumbled over her own words. Ever since she was young, her father had preached about the importance of marrying another pure blood so this was entirely out of character for him.

“That Wood boy…” Her father thought for a moment before clicking his tongue, “He’s staying at the Weasley’s house. The elves have packed your bags already. You leave tomorrow morning.”

Y/N was speechless. Was this her father or a random intruder?

“Good night, Y/N.” And with that, he left. Y/N sat on her bed, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to process what had just happened.

A knock on the door interrupted breakfast for the Weasley family, Oliver, Harry, and Hermione.

Oliver, as charming as ever, stood up. “I’ll get it.” He offered, walking over to the door. He twisted the door knob and yanked it open, coming face to face with Y/N.

She smiled. “I hope I’m not intruding.” She uttered, peeking over Oliver’s shoulder. “I just wanted to quickly say one thing.”

Oliver could feel the prying eyes of Fred and George and he exasperatingly sighed, shutting the door behind him. “Yes?” His heart leaped in his chest as Y/N leaned forward with a grin.

“I like you too, quidditch boy.”

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