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fanfic-me-up · 5 years ago

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Capture This! || Kaminari Denki

Synopsis: You walk in on Denki, your best friend of five years, getting off. Two questions: Why is there a picture of you? And why do you want him to take more?

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x fem!reader

Warnings: M/E+, 18+, explicit sexual content

Word Count: 6k+

A/N: This is for the @bnhabookclub bingo event! Thank you @shoutogepi and @im-here-for-the-heroes for beta reading. Shout out to @whats-her-quirk this fic was born from me poppin in during your thirst hours lol

“Lotion? Check. Tissues? Check. Pictures?”

Denki swallows.

“Check.”

It’s routine for Denki, really the only ritual he sticks to in his otherwise scatterbrained schedule of kickin’ ass, chilling with friends, and playing Fortnite till ungodly hours of the morning.

But he can’t help it. You’re fucking gorgeous, and Denki has needs - his brain programmed to get off at least three times a day else he can’t function. The first time it happened, he felt a deep sense of shame, twisting his gut, disgusted with himself that he defiled your image. He couldn’t look you in the eye for a week until you had enough and demanded to know what was up. It was the first time he lied to you.

But one time became two, and three, and suddenly Denki needed an image of you all the time. The one of you looking all pretty in that stupid summer dress was his favorite. You bought it that one time you dragged him to the mall because you needed a “guy’s opinion.” He rushed to the bathroom because if he didn’t get out fast, he was gonna drag you back into the changing room and rip that dress off himself.

You’re adorable, hot, sexy, and absolutely terrifying, wrapped up in one perfect package.

Oh, and did he forget to mention?

Totally off-limits.

This is why Denki has to resort to hanging out with you, listening to you vent about your boy problems, and how you just want to meet “the one” already. Denki’s heart breaks a little more every time you shove him deeper into the friend zone, all the while pretending like he didn’t just jerk it to you a couple hours before.

He works his hand up and down his shaft, growing harder by the second with each stroke. It doesn’t take much to get him going, not when it’s you. You’re wearing his hoodie, toes buried in the sand, roasting a marshmallow in front of a bonfire. You’re smiling at something Kirishima said, Denki doesn’t remember what, because all he could see was the light in your eyes. A genuine spark lit only when the cameras were off, and you were unaware of anyone watching. Denki loved witnessing these rare moments; wanted to commit it to memory, so he did. When you posted the picture on Instagram, Denki was more than surprised; you had scrunched your nose when he showed you the picture, displeased with how you looked.

This should not be happening. Any normal person would feel ashamed when staring at a picture of their best friend and touching themselves. No one knew about it, and Denki was surprised he was able to keep it a secret for this long considering he’s friends with fucking Mina of all people.

Enough pre-cum bubbles at the tip that he doesn’t even need the lotion. Staring at you on the screen, wearing his hoodie that’s way too big it covers your thighs completely, makes his mind wander to all sorts of ways he wishes he could get you out of that hoodie. He leans back into the chair, spreading his legs with his eyes half-lidded, imagining what your lips might look like wrapped around his cock.

“Fuck yeah...”

Groaning at the image of you on your knees, lips bruised and slicked with spit from fucking your pretty little mouth has Denki tightening his fist, hips fucking into his hand in a continuous rhythm.

He’s on the verge of coming when the door swings open - the first and last person Denki wants to walk in is standing there in front of him.

“Hey, I called, but you didn’t - ah!” You squeak, throwing the box you’re holding. A sea of random knick-knacks and hero merch rains over you. You hear a thump when the yellow polaroid camera you bought for Denki at a thrift shop hits the floor.

“Fuck!” Denki jumps from his chair, an array of pens fall in a heap to the floor.

You whip your head away, heat spikes your body, embarrassed that you saw your best friend in such a compromising position.

Denki mutters a repeated “shit shit shit” to himself for a good minute before he finally addresses you; his voice rising with each word.

“How did you get in here!?”

“Spare key, dumbass!”

“That’s for emergencies only!”

“Are you talking to me with your dick out!?”

Silence.

“No?”

You huff at the uncertainty in his tone. It’s only two o’clock, and you can already feel a migraine coming on.

“Denki, if I turn around and you’re not covered, so help me god I will-”

“Okay, okay, I got it. Pants are zipped.”

You don’t move until you hear the confirming “zip” before slowly opening your eyes (you have no idea why your eyes were closed in the first place), and you turn around to find Denki leaning against the desk. He’s trying his best to appear casual, but the flush on his face and frazzled hair give away what he was doing moments before you walked in. You don’t know where it comes from, but the thought alone stirs something inside you.

The confusing emotion is replaced by hot-blooded anger when you lock eyes on the screen behind him.

“Is that my face!?”

Denki’s smile drops as he turns around. Dammit. Of course, he forgot to close the tab.

“Uhhh…”

He has no words, none, not when you’re standing there with that intense look in your eyes you get when you’re about to rip someone a new one. Your anger could rival Bakugou’s, and Denki has unfortunately been in the middle of one too many screaming matches. He’s surprised his eardrums aren’t blown out by now.

He clicks to exit out, or at least he thinks he does until he comes to the dumb realization that he’s clicking the zoom button instead.

“Ho-hold on, let me just…”

With each click, it zooms a little more into your face until only your nose is in the frame. Denki sheepishly looks up at you.

“Oops?”

Denki’s had a good life. He’s already come farther than most ever dream in their career when becoming a pro-hero, and he’s made some amazing friends most spend years trying to find. The only regret of his is not confessing his true feelings to you, but really what’s one regret? He’s totally a-okay with saying goodbye to this cruel, cruel world if it meant not being subjected to this torture any longer.

“Denki Kaminari.”

Denki gulps. Oh no. You only say his full name when you mean business.

“Explain right this instant or I will walk out this door and tell the whole world how you and grape boy took body shots off cardboard cutouts of each other!”

“Hey! We were really fuckin’ drunk and thought it might score us some pity sex with the ladies!”

“In what world would you licking fuckin’ Mineta equal oh yeah, fuck me, Denki?”

Denki cowers with each step you take, gulping down the lump in his throat when your face is close enough to hold in his hands. He’s never been more simultaneously turned on and terrified in his life. Especially when he just heard the words “fuck me, Denki” escape your lips.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Whatever you do. Don’t. Look. Down.

The last thing he wants is you flinging him out the window because he couldn’t keep his eyes on your face. Don’t get him wrong; he could look at your face forever, even when you look like your one move away from killing him. But… he’s a dude, and there’s boobs in front of him, not to mention your boobs.

“Hello? Earth to Denki?” You wave your hand in his face.

“You may wanna sit down for this.”

“I’m fine where I am, thank you very much.”

He huffs out a breath, annoyed you didn’t take the bait. The suggestion was more for his sanity than yours. With you standing so close, his brain is going haywire; the tantalizing scent of strawberries and cream short-circuiting his brain quicker than when he overuses his quirk. It never fails to make his mouth water, if only he could bend down and bury his nose in the crook of your neck, god, he’d never let you go.

How does he even begin to work through the feelings he has for you when they’ve been bottled up since the moment he knew he was in deep? Where does he start?

The fact he’s been in love with you for the past five years?

Or that he’s been getting off to you for half that time?

Denki’s mind is running a mile a minute, like a computer in overdrive. He can’t make enough sense of his emotions to convert into words. But, instead of waiting to open his mouth, like a normal person, Denki spews out embarrassing word vomit that connects his two thoughts.

“I love getting off to you.”

A pin could drop, and it’d be as loud as a freaking hurricane.

Denki groans in frustration, facepalming his forehead. What the hell did he just say, and can he take it back? How long would it take for him to hack into a database and find someone with a time manipulation quirk? He doesn’t even know how to hack, but he’d wrangle his one brain cell and fucking learn if that’s what it takes.

He’s usually good at reading you. You’re one of the few people he cares enough to pick up on how you’re feeling. The myriad of emotions that pass on your face from shock to confusion to a hint of amusement lets Denki know he can breathe easy. At least you’re not trying to kill him anymore.

“Oh-kay that’s not what I - what I meant to say was - hold on, lemme just, rewind.”

He makes some weird, loopy gesture with his arms. His brain was firing a million synapses at once, each connected to a different thought, some deep like the fear of losing you and some not so deep - like he’s really excited to eat the cheeseburgers Bakugou promised he’d grill tonight.

But he tries his best to reign in the million and one thoughts to focus on you, who’s waiting for an explanation. He takes a deep breath to steady his heart that’s about to beat out of his chest. He only hopes you don’t stomp on it after what he’s about to say.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I have been since our first year at U.A. I wanted to tell you for the longest time, but then you got with Bakugou. Then you broke up, and you needed a friend more than ever, and how could I say no to being ‘your best bro’ when you were crying on my shoulder? It was just never the right time.”

The more he rambled, the more uncomfortable he felt. Out of all the scenarios he imagined of how he’d confess to you, this one was at the bottom of his list to be prepared for. He never expected to be forced into confessing because you caught him masturbating to pictures of you. He rubs the back of his neck and gives an awkward laugh when you stay silent.

“I get it if you wanna, like, shun me forever or something. I deserve it for being such a creep.”

Denki lowers his head to the floor, the clutter of fallen pens and knick-knacks looks way less intimidating than staring into your eyes. A soft hand touches his chin, lifting his face to meet yours.

“Hey, look at me, it’s okay.”

Your voice does wonders for soothing the nerves shaking him up.

“I guess it’s not that creepy when you put it like that, and for some weird reason, you’re like the one person I can catch jacking off to my pictures, and I don’t feel the need to report you as a registered sex offender.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but Denki’s heart drops at the idea of you labeling him as the neighborhood perv.

“Please, don’t do that,” he squeaks before clearing his throat, “But for real, Y/N, I’m so sorry. It’s wrong to disrespect you like that, and I promise I won’t do it again.”

Denki has no idea how he’s gonna get off now, but that’s his future self’s problem.

“I can’t help it, you’re gorgeous, and I love ya, and I don’t remember the last time I got laid.”

Fuck. He didn’t mean to say that last part, but it’s the truth. You’re the reason he couldn’t even look at another girl, because they weren’t you, and that’s why he had to resort to pulling up pictures of you. Pictures that aren’t normally deemed “sexy” and of you dressed modestly, without much skin showing.

That doesn’t stop Denki from coming in record time with your name rolling off his lips every time.

“How bad do you want me?”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the least bit curious about what sex with your best friend would be like. You heard he wasn’t a bad lay from a couple girls back at U.A.

You’d also be lying if you didn’t say you were just as horny as said best friend.

It’s difficult finding time to date as a pro-hero. When you do, it doesn’t last very long anyway - the other person growing tired of always coming second to your career. Don’t even get you started on one night stands. They’re practically impossible to uphold as once the media gets wind of it, you’re slapped on the cover of “Hero Times Magazine,” and everyone and their mother is calling for you to “spill the tea.” This is why pro-heroes either end up with other pro-heroes or end up alone.

Denki’s eyebrows shoot straight to his hairline. If someone were to tell him you were attracted to him in any sense of the word, his heart would double-time it, but he’d ultimately brush it off. He knew your type, and he could not be farther from it. The aggressive, beefy, gym rat who could match you move for move in a heated spar of harsh words and hot-blooded passion. You dated Bakugou for fuck’s sake! There was no hope for Denki after that.

But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take what he can get. The words pour out of him like the dam’s been broken and the unforgiving flood rushes.

“I want you so bad, Y/N, fuck, I’ve waited so long, so fucking long, you don’t know how crazy you make me.”

Your breath catches. His words have an unexpected effect on you, but your heart drums in anticipation. If you listen close enough, you can hear Denki’s beating at the same rate, waiting for what you’re going to say next. Power surges through you. In your past relationships, sex was always seen as this competition. Your exes never wanted to relinquish their pride or control, but Denki is nothing like your exes. He’s laid-back, always cracking jokes, and never dwelling too much on the past, always moving forward to the next moment. He’s perfectly fine with letting you take the reins most of the time. You determine what will happen next.

“You love getting off to me?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but he answers in earnest.

“You’re the only one I get off to.”

You slide your dress off, and it falls to the floor.

“Show me.”

Denki’s eyes travel over your body, his mouth slightly open in disbelief at your undressed state. He wants to capture this moment in case this is as much as he gets, even if he can never use this mental picture because he promised you he wouldn’t. His fingers itch to brush along the lace trim of your bra, to graze along your nipple, and watch your reaction. Are you sensitive enough where you’d full on moan, or would he have to strain to catch the small hitch of breath? Denki was never top of his class. He preferred to wing it and hope for the best, but for you, he’d take his time to study every inch and crevice of your body until he could read you cover to cover with his eyes closed. His gaze travels down to the matching lace panties you wear, a cute little bow in the front waiting to be untied with his teeth.

Did you plan to get fucked today? Or do you usually wear matching sets on the regular?

Your skin looks so soft and supple, he’s aching to dig his fingers, but before he can, you step away. Denki cocks his head. Have you changed your mind? But any doubt leaves Denki when you make your way across the room to sit down on the edge of the bed.

You start with feather-light touches dancing along your collarbone. Your eyes are locked on Denki, getting high on the way he drinks in your every move. Your touches are teasing, especially when your finger dips down to your cleavage. Still, instead of giving Denki what he wants, you change course, making your way back to your shoulders. Denki exhales a breath at your teasing, but says nothing, too afraid he’ll ruin the mood if he says something stupid.

When you make your way down again, you don’t disappoint; you pinch your nipple through your bra, and the way Denki swipes his tongue over his lip has heat rushing to your core. You slide your hand down your stomach, stopping when you reach your clothed slit. Denki stares, hungry and buzzing in anticipation for what you’ll do next. Smirking in victory, you spread your legs open and pull your panties to the side, giving him the view to capture the perfect picture of your dripping pussy.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

You taunt breathlessly, tracing your folds with your fingers.

Oh shit. Were you for real? Please, tell him you were for real because he legit might cry if this was some elaborate prank. Where are the fucking cameras?

“You don’t want to?” You bite your lip, insecurity seeping through the confident smile you wore just a moment ago.

“No! I mean - yes! Yes, I do, holy shit, let me find - where the fuck is…” Denki whips around, trying to find his phone. Fuck! Out of all the times to misplace it, it has to be now. But then he spots the yellow polaroid camera sitting on the floor, and before he can think, he’s picking it up and praying it has film. He kneels, so he’s eye level with your pussy, but also making sure the angle gets your whole body in the frame. The light streaming in gives you an ethereal look, your skin glowing, and adding to the cute flush on your cheeks. The camera clicks, and a second later, the picture slides out. You giggle at Denki’s impatience. He’s waving the picture frantically in the air, so the color comes through faster. He completely stills when he can finally take a good look at the beauty he’s captured.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look…”

Denki can’t control the groan that escapes. He looks back up at you, eyes darkened with lust before he’s ripping his shorts off so fast, his foot gets caught, and he almost trips in the process. Once he’s out of them, he plops back down in the chair across the room. You’re surprised when all you feel is pure, unadulterated lust. You expected to be at least a little bit weirded out staring at your best friend’s cock, but all you want is to put it in your mouth and explore all the different ways you can make him come. The tip is oozing pre-cum already, and the way he works his hand with a sense of urgency suggests he’s been hard for a while. It doesn’t take long before you hear Denki grunt.

“Fuck, I’m close.”

You look so pretty spread out for him. For the last five years, he wanted nothing more than to see you like this. His hips jerk up, and he throws his head back, but he makes sure to keep his eyes open like his life depended on it; he didn’t want to miss a second of this. You, with your legs wide open giving him a view of your perfect little pussy. Your panties soaked by you rubbing your clit mercilessly, and your pupils blown wide as you watch your best friend get off to the show you’re giving him. It’s erotic as hell, completely different from the pictures Denki has of you. This one easily tops all the others. He tightens his fist - he doesn’t want it to end without feeling your skin on his at least once.

“Let me touch you, Y/N, please, I just wanna touch you, need to feel you.”

Denki doesn’t give a fuck that he’s begging at this point. He’s waited too damn long to care about pride or dignity, not when the chance to fuck you is placed in his shaking hands. You bite your lip to suppress a moan, but it comes out anyway.

“Touch me.”

That’s all Denki needs. Before you know it, you’re pushed down on the bed, and lips smash against yours. He’s eager, a little too eager, shoving his tongue in your mouth and touching everywhere that he can. You don’t have much room to breathe, so you gently push at his chest.

“Chill, Denki.”

He huffs out a breath, muscles shaking like he’s restraining himself from overwhelming you.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,”

He mumbles, peppering kisses into your neck before making his way back to your lips. It’s much smoother this time, his tongue sliding out to tease your bottom lip, asking for permission this time. He groans when you open up for him, your tongue meeting his. Hands trail up until they reach around, resting on the clasp of your bra. Honey eyes meet yours, but you cut off his question.

“I’ll stop you if I need to, but you asking me if it’s okay every time you try something is gonna seriously kill the mood.”

You reach around to place your hands on top of his, unclasping your bra along with him. His eyes darken at the sight of your bare chest. You try not to squirm at the intensity of his gaze. It becomes near impossible when he dips down to flick his tongue over your nipple before biting with his teeth. He pays the same attention to the other one before kissing his way down your stomach. You arch your back when he spreads your legs and positions himself between them. He makes his way around, avoiding your dripping pussy, teasing your thighs with soft kisses. You huff in annoyance, and he smirks up at you, biting into the flesh of your thigh. This time he places a kiss to your heated center, enjoying the way you squirm under his touch.

“Is it everything you imagined?” You ask.

He looks up at you, with such a serious expression, one you’ve only seen a couple times since knowing him.

“Everything and more.”

Your heart flutters, and you know you’re going to say something you’ll regret if you don’t stop counting the different shades of gold in his eyes. You clear your throat before throwing your hair back.

“You gonna fuck me, or am I gonna have to do it myself?”

You pull his head in for a demanding kiss, biting on his lip to distract yourself from the rush of bubbling emotions threatening to surface.

“One sec,” Denki whispers, placing one last kiss to your lips, before getting up.

You gape at the giant box of condoms he casually pulls out. It hasn’t been opened, and oh my god, you didn’t even know they made huge boxes like this. There were at least a hundred in there. What person thinks to buy a big box of condoms if their plans don’t include… fucking a whole ass army?

“What the fuck, Denki?”

People usually have one, maybe two condoms in their wallet at most. Some guys don’t have any at all, which kills the mood when you’re in the heat of the moment, so I guess you can be thankful that Denki is... extra prepared?

“What?”

He pulls a condom out and drops the box. It thumps when it hits the floor. You’re taken aback by how nonchalant he’s being about this.

“I- you- wha- How many times do you think we’re gonna do it!?”

Denki slides the condom on, smirking at your shocked expression.

“Till we finish this box,” he says as he slides into you.

You gasp at the stretch. He pushes to the hilt, and stays there when he notices the slight furrow of your brow. It has been a while since you’ve fucked, but soon enough, you crave more so you roll your hips, but he doesn’t move.

“Denki?”

His head is pressed into your neck, warm breath tickling your skin, and the stuttering heartbeat matches to the beat of your own.

“Just… gimme a minute, don’t wanna ruin it by coming in two seconds.”

His words are muffled, voice raspy with desire, and you can only imagine what his face looks like. It makes you want him all the more. Finally, someone who doesn’t see sex as an opportunity to one-up you or to put you in your place. It’s scary how the last twenty minutes have changed five years of friendship.

“Hey,” you hold his face in between your palms. He already looks completely fucked out with his face flushed and eyes glazed. You place a tender kiss to his lips, unlike the previous kisses you shared.

“You couldn’t ruin it even if you did come right now.”

You caress his hair in an attempt to reassure him.

“You’d just have to make it up to me,” you wink.

His smile is so pure, lighting up his eyes that’s unique to Denki; it makes your heart do somersaults in your chest. But the moment passes as the previous heat between you two spikes when Denki circles his hips, taking his time to feel you inside and out. He’s touching and kissing you wherever he can, your cheek, neck, chest, thighs, like it’s the first and last time he’ll experience you like this. It might very well be.

This thought doesn’t sit well with you.

Once he’s mapped out your sweet spots, he digs his fingers into your thighs and pulls your hips flush towards his. He pulls out of you until only the tip is brushing your opening and pounds back into you, taking your breath away. He pumps in and out of you faster, and you cry out when he hits that special spot deep inside of you.

“Denki,” you moan. He grunts and spreads your legs even wider, grabbing one and hauling it over his shoulder to pound into you deeper.

He’s getting close, hell, he’s been close even before you walked in.

“F-fuck…” Denki groans, thrusting at an uneven pace and feeling the familiar tightening in his groin.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you flip him over and begin bouncing on his cock in a much more steady rhythm. Denki’s staring up at you, eyes wide in admiration.

You’re a goddess. An absolute fucking masterpiece that needs to be put in a museum for his eyes only. God, when did he get so fucking mushy? You always brought out different sides that Denki, himself, didn’t even know he had. He can’t keep his hands off you, grabbing your boobs, sliding down the curves of your thighs, gripping your ass. He wants to commit it all to memory in case he never gets to know this pleasure again.

“Y/N, ah, shit, I’m gonna...” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence.

He’s holding on to that sweet release for as long as he can. He’s been craving it since he met you on the first day of class at U.A. His balls tighten, unable to hold it in any longer, before he gives in to the long overdue orgasm. It hits him hard - his entire body tingling from head to toe like 1000 volts of electricity bolt through him. Denki had no idea he could come for this long, but he doesn’t want it to end - it feels so fucking good inside you. He rides it out for a couple more thrusts before he relaxes, completely sated. You try to pull off him, but he grabs your hips and forces you back down. You squeak, clearly not expecting him to care enough to help you out after he finished.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The tone of his voice sounds foreign in his ears, too gruff and too deep, but you seem to have no problems with it as you moan in response, working yourself on top of him. Your thighs crush his hips, shaking with need as you seek a release of your own. You’re tired from bouncing, so you resort to grinding, swirling your hips deliciously around his cock. Denki squeezes your ass in appreciation.

“You close?”

“Close, so close, Denki, please…”

Your eyes well up with tears, desperate to finish; the coil in your stomach wound too tight that you might burst any second. Denki helps you by thrusting his hips to meet yours, his hand rubbing your clit. You jolt at the sudden zap to your clit, you look down to see a small spark leave Denki’s fingertip. He does it again, and you cry out, your pussy fluttering from the electrifying touch.

“C’mon, baby, you can do it, come for me.”

Fuck. Denki didn’t mean for the pet name to slip out, but then you’re moaning louder than before that Denki would’ve had to quiet you if you weren’t alone. Words are tumbling out before you can stop them.

“Oh, fuck, Denki, I love this so much, I love you, I-”

You slap your hand over your mouth. Denki’s eyes widen for a second before a dangerous glint takes over, and he wretches your hand away from your mouth.

“Lemme hear you. C’mon, Y/N, show me how much you love this.”

You hardly recognize the scream as your own; you flush at how loud you are, but Denki doesn’t seem to mind. It seems to spur him on. He sits up so your chest to chest before he bends down to tug at your nipple with his teeth. You throw your head back in pleasure, your hands coming around to grab at his hair. Golden eyes look up at you from your chest, a slight smirk curving his lips.

“I’m no photographer, baby girl, but I can sure as hell picture us together.”

Leave it to Denki Kaminari to make you come with a cheesy pickup line.

He gives one final thrust, balls slapping against your ass and hitting the spot deep inside you just right. Your thighs quiver from the pleasure wracking your body, a scream lodging out of your throat so loud that the people next door bang on the wall. You’re overwhelmed to the point that all you can do is rest your head on his shoulder, whispering his name in a broken whimper as you finish.

You fall next to him on the bed, sweaty and completely wiped, both of you trying to catch your breath. Denki tosses the condom in the trash while you stare at the ceiling, watching the fan swirl round and round. Your mind is no different at the moment, going round in circles, and you’re trying to catch up. Your body feels weightless, tingling all over and loving the high you didn’t think was possible. The bed shifts, and suddenly you’re faced with your best friend of five years. Before he can get a word out, the front door slams shut, and two very familiar, very masculine voices are down the hall, getting closer by the second.

“Kaminari, you lazy shit, get the fuck down here!”

“Shit!” Denki jumps from the bed, ruffling through the mess to find his pants.

“Denki, just lock the door! Hurry!”

It’s too late as the door swings open, and yeah… if today taught Denki anything, it’s that he really needs to lock his door more often. He doesn’t have time to think as he hops back into bed with you to avoid flashing any of his other friends today. Bakugou would probably threaten to chop his dick off and… yeah, Denki doesn’t wanna think about the rest.

You squeak and cover yourself with the blanket when you’re met with two sets of equally shocked crimson eyes.

Kirishima drops the bag of chips he’s holding. It seems like dropping things when walking into Denki’s room was a common theme today, and he’s sure as hell not looking forward to the cleanup. Denki regrets chancing a glance at Bakugou; nostrils flaring like a rabid predator on the loose and Denki’s his target.

The four of you stare at each other for who knows how long before Kirishima breaks out into a full-on grin.

“About time, bro, congrats!”

“Congrats?” You turn to Denki, confused.

“The fuck!? You bangin’ my ex, dunceface!?” Bakugou shouts.

“Please don’t hurt me!” Denki squeaks, hiding underneath the covers.

“Oi! You fuck like a man, you better fight like one, too!”

You roll your eyes, hardly affected by Bakugou’s exploding presence, unlike Denki, who is literally shaking beside you.

“Oh fuck off, Katsuki, listen to yourself. Keyword ex-girlfriend.”

Bakugou sputters, and Kirishima drags him by the shoulder.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s been in a mood since he found out he’s gonna be the next star of the Bachelor.”

“You wanna die too, shitty hair!?”

You and Denki burst out laughing at the absurdity of Katsuki forced to act like a gentleman on live TV. The image of Katsuki in a suit and tie, holding a rose and actually smiling, is comedic gold to you.

“C’mon, bro, let’s give ’em some space.”

“Oi! You’re on my shit list now! All of you! Aye! Get the fuck off me!”

Kirishima drags Bakugou the rest of the way, giving you a quick thumbs up on the way out.

You and Denki are still cracking up, but your laughter dies when they leave, and you’re faced with the tension from before. Denki sinks lower into the sheets, hating that he keeps getting walked in on. Who decided it was ‘make a fool out of Denki day’ anyway?

“So…” you start.

“So…” Denki finishes.

You both stare straight ahead at nothing.

“Did you mean it?”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly asking him to elaborate.

“What you said, when you... you know...” he makes a clicking noise with his mouth like that’s universal code for fucking, “Or was it just a heat of the moment thing?”

You take a moment to think before you give your response. You want to be as honest as possible, and not lead Denki on in any way. Of course, you loved him, he’s your best friend, but did you love him?

You think back on your friendship, and suddenly a supercut of all the times he was there for you flashes before your eyes. He was there when you needed someone to drive you when you had your wisdom teeth pulled out. You didn’t expect Denki to stay with you the whole weekend, buying you ice cream and watching your favorite movies, but he did.

He was there when you and Bakugou became an item, always listening to you swoon over how amazing a boyfriend he was. Denki would always respond with “But can he do this?” and would proceed to overuse his quirk like an overpowered Pikachu just to make you laugh. It sends a knife through your heart, knowing Denki was in love with you while you were talking about how great of a boyfriend his friend was. Not to mention how he was there when you and Bakugou broke up, heart-broken and vowing to swear off boys for good. Denki held you in his arms while you cried, staying silent the entire time, which you knew was against his nature. Denki was always there for you as a friend. There’s no doubt he’d be there for you as a lover.

“I meant it,” you say.

Tears threaten to spill, and your heart might burst out of your chest and land right into his hands. You hope he holds on to it forever. He squishes your cheeks and leans down to plant the softest kiss on your lips. This is what you’ve been missing - more like who you’ve been missing. You open your mouth to deepen the kiss, and he meets you move for move. He pulls away, hands still on your cheeks, grazing your cheekbones with his fingertips as he stares into your eyes.

“Denki, I…” You bite your lip, overcome with emotion. You desperately want to say the words to capture this picture-perfect moment forever.

Until you feel something poking your thigh.

“Denki!”

You yell, affronted he popped a boner in the middle of what was supposed to be a romantic moment.

“Sorry!”

“Ugh! Worst timing ever!” You slap his shoulder.

“Ow! I said I’m sorry!”

You wiggle out of his embrace. Silence eats at the room, and you can feel Denki’s energy radiating in uncomfortable frequencies. The last moment had been thoroughly ruined.

But you have all the time in the world to make more.

“... round two?”

Just seeing Denki’s face light up like Christmas is enough to promise the birth of a new moment. He bends over to grab his box of condoms, some spilling on the floor and adding more to the mess, before saying, “hell yeah!”

You roll your eyes with affection. What a weirdo, you think. But he’s your weirdo.

That night, or rather the next day since it was currently three in the morning, Denki plops down on his bed exhausted from the day. He’s fluffing his pillow, trying to get comfortable, when he feels something underneath. His eyes widen when he takes in the picture he’s holding. You must’ve taken it when he was downstairs and snuck it under his pillow. You’re bent over with that same damn lacy bra that sends him for a loop. Your cleavage deliciously on display as you bite your lip and stare at the camera with those innocent eyes. Denki can’t help it, his hand sliding down on instinct and cupping himself through his boxers. He turns the picture around and smiles at the cute little message written on the back.

“To add to your collection 😉”

#kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #bnhabookclub #kaminari denki smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #kaminari denki #denki kaminari #denki kaminari x reader #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #kaminari imagine #kaminari denki imagine #kaminari smut

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popunktomlinson · 5 years ago

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this is everything i’ve read in the past month put into a list for the sole benefit of my short term memory. it’s a mess of pairings but mostly drarry and can be summed up as lots of enemies to lovers, excessive pining, and a splash of fake dating.

Drarry:

What Real Thing? - loveglowsinthedark (13k)

They don’t cuddle, they don’t talk about their relationship (or lack thereof) and they certainly never fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Aural Gratification - birdsofshore (11k)

Harry's not gay – he just likes listening to exciting stories about Aurors. It's not his fault that the narrator's voice is so smooth, so expressive... and really rather hot.

You open always (petal by petal) - birdsofshore (65k)

Harry’s not the kind of person who pays for sex. He really isn’t. Until he is.

Lumos - birdsofshore (41k)

Harry never expected to spend eighth year listening to Draco Malfoy wanking.

Heartlines - shiftylinguini (73k)

Harry never expected he’d end up chipping away at his virginity while wandless and bonded to Malfoy in Northern Europe.

He never expected that would turn out to be the least surprising thing to happen while out on their training expedition in the middle of nowhere, either.

The Sleeping Beauty Curse - who_la_hoop (153k)

When Draco Malfoy falls into a cursed sleep and can only be woken – at least, according to the Daily Prophet, that impeccable source of truth – by ‘true love’s kiss’, Harry Potter knows there’s no way on earth he’s the answer to this particular riddle. Is he . . .?

Strange Bedfellows - orphan_account, ravenclawsquill (31k)

When Harry encounters a frail and fidgety Draco Malfoy at the Ministry, he just knows something is wrong and he’s determined to get to the bottom of it.

A story about Deadly Nightshade, crippling insomnia, excellent wine … and finding what you need in the strangest of circumstances.

The Devil’s White Knight - orphan_account (65k)

When Harry wakes up in an alternate timeline--a timeline where Voldemort was defeated long before the first war--he discovers everything is different. His parents, his godfather, his friends--and him. Harry must deal with the consequences of who he would have been if he had been raised by his parents, and figure out where he stands with his casual hook up, Draco Malfoy.

Who Shagged Harry Potter? - faithwood (6k)

One beautiful sunny Sunday the Slytherins wake up after a raunchy night only to discover a very naked Harry Potter sleeping in their dormitory. Naturally, they ask themselves a logical question: Who the hell shagged him?

Draco Malfoy, It’s Your Lucky Day - faithwood (47k)

Even though he's unarmed, injured, lost in the Forbidden Forest, and facing a possible murder charge, Draco Malfoy gets lucky.

Love Comes Tumbling - taradiane (22k)

'Harry's thoughts were of how much he would have done differently with Malfoy over the years, and of Dumbledore's final words to the other boy . . . "It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now." Maybe, Harry wondered, he could find some mercy, too, and give Malfoy the second chance that Dumbledore had believed him worthy of.’

punch-drunk fingerprints - tamerofdarkstars (2k)

In a world where every touch of a soulmate leaves a temporary heat mark on bare skin, Draco Malfoy suddenly finds his life devolving into a massive cliche because the Boy Who Lived Twice has no idea how to respect the personal space bubble.

Muggle Technology and Heroism - TommyLane (90k)

Draco Malfoy wasn’t exactly the best roommate Harry’s ever had. The man tended to watch way too much James Bond and his obsession with muggle technology not only rivaled Arthur Weasley’s but more often than not ended with Harry trying to assure him that the appliances weren’t out to get him. Then there was the little fact that Harry was hopelessly in love with him while Draco remained completely unaware, bringing nameless men home night after night.

But Harry loved his life and was somewhat (as long as he doesn’t actually think about it) content enough in the way things were going. That is until Draco’s old boyfriend comes sweeping back into town – making Draco breakfast and fixing the remote control before Harry can and forcing him to realize that if he doesn’t do something soon, that he might lose the man he loves before he even gets a chance to ever actually have him.

Party of Two - fireflavored (13k)

Drinking, sex, and a total misreading of the concept of fuck buddies.

A Dented Old Street Sign - orphanghost (27k)

Draco knows they aren't the only students who will be completing their NEWTs this year, but they are the only ones whose home fireplaces were disconnected from the floo network by the ministry.

At least, Draco assumes as much until he sees the light falling out from the front door of one of the other rickety old houses in front of them and the three figures cast in its warm glow. For a moment they look like some sort of strange, many legged creature. An acromantula, or a particularly massive Blast-Ended Skrewt. Then Draco hears Pansy make a disgusted sound beside him and the light falls in a less blinding way, and Draco can see that it is actually Potter and the Weasel carrying a large couch between them, and Granger fluttering around them with her wand out, seeming concerned.

(The Piece) I was Missing All Along - lauren3210 (31k)

Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way. But when something comes along and threatens to take all that away, Draco has to decide what it is he really wants, and just how hard he's going to work to get it.

The Gentlewizard Club - Sophie_French (28k)

Draco wants what Draco wants. And if he has to snuggle up to Harry to get it, well, surely, Draco can handle that. Problem is, not sure Harry can.

Larry:

A Little Bit Like Fate - Galaxie (8k)

Louis stumbles upon a kiss-in protest for LGBTQ rights, and he meets Harry. They click. It feels a little bit like fate.

Go Nowhere Tonight - objectlesson (12k)

As always, the easy nonchalance with which he treats the rumors hurts, stabs Harry in the gut, twists the knife. Because it is hard for Harry; it’s hard to know people think they should be or are together because he wants that. Wants it so fucking badly, and it would be one thing if he could just silently quarantine that part of himself and pine secretly, but instead he’s faced with fictionalized accounts of his and Louis’s nonexistent love life and photoshopped pictures of them being coupley every time he’s on the internet. It is hard, and the fact that it supposedly isn’t for Louis functions as proof that it’s unrequited. “It’s gonna be a rude awakening for them,” he starts, gazing into his empty glass, “when we eventually come out but are dating other people. No one likes being half-right.”

Good Enough to Eat - objectlesson (7k)

“Okay. I just...fuck, I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” Harry whimpers, and he must be blushing because Louis can feel waves of heat coming off him, his embarrassment a hot, palpable thing. “So, like…I love rimming videos. Nothing makes me come harder,” he admits, covering his face with his hands so his voice comes out muffled and strangled.

You Drive Me Crazy (I Just Can’t Sleep) - objectlesson (18k)

The first time Louis ends up in Harry’s bed is a total accident.

Vinyl and Lace - objectlesson (8k)

Harry tries on a skirt in the X Factor dressing room as a joke. Louis doesn't think it's very funny.

Wolfstar:

Let Us Be Silent, That We May Hear the Whispers of the Gods - gyzym (2k)

Remus Lupin doesn't want to hear it--not tomorrow and not yesterday, but certainly not right now.

Trobed:

Advanced Ambulatory Ichthyology - gyzym (49k)

Course provides advanced instruction in avoidance of the phenomenon commonly known as "jumping the shark." Prerequisites for this course include Introduction to Friendship, Contemporary Best Friendship, The Politics of Emotional Baggage and Cohabitation 207. Students may wish to simultaneously enroll in our sister course, Introduction to Non-Traditional Romance, but said enrollment is optional.

Introduction to Women’s Studies - ama (7k)

You know the story. They're best friends, they're inseparable, Abra has a rainbow collection of hijabs as extensive and impressive as her graphic t-shirt collection and is the hottest girl Tory's seen outside of a mirror--not that that means anything. Right?

#fic rec #read #drarry #mostly drarry ive been in a mood #fics #mine

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firefliesintheskyline · 4 years ago

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(Me, prompting myself under the shower : What if we take the popular “person A is drunk and asks person B to be their partner, person B laughs and answers by saying they are married already (without saying they are actually married to person A) and person A pouts” and add “what person B doesn’t know is that person A sees them interact with person C and thinks they are the significant other”)

So, I guess… enjoy???

(Now on AO3 !)

INTOXICATED (Nicky x Joe + the Immortal Family)

Their last mission in France had been extremely successful, so Andy wasn't entirely surprised to find 2 cases of champagne in front of their safe house. She had to admit that, while at first she had been very reluctant to give Copley the address, taking the risk to share the information had paid off nicely more than once. He also really didn’t need to know that this was only one of the half dozen properties they had in Paris and its surroundings.

“Well, I guess we are in for a big celebration tonight!” Quynh was enthusiastically emptying the first box and passing the bottles over to Booker, while Nile and Joe were already heading to the kitchen to get some glasses.

“Don’t start moping, Nicky,” Andy gave him her signature half smile, “you don’t have to drink, if you don’t want to.”

Nicky looked almost offended by her suggestion.

“Just because I have a very low tolerance, it doesn’t mean I have to refrain from alcohol entirely, Andromache.”

She shrugged, completely unbothered.

“If you say so.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

From her spot on the sofa, Andy let out a self-satisfied smirk when she noticed that Nicky was curled up into the armchair, looking comfortable and completely gone.

“Hush, love,” Quynh pinched her very lightly on the arm, “stop making fun of him. After all, you where the one who instigated the drinking.”

Andy gave her a pointed look. “I merely told him that he didn’t have to, if he didn’t want to.”

“Because you knew exactly what his reaction would be,” Quynh retorted, looking back at Nicky with fondness in her eyes, “I still don’t get how he could be the fiercest warrior in the room and yet be totally unaware of the tricks you play on him.”

“I didn’t play any trick,” Andy shook her head, “and you know it. He knows it. Nicky has been too tense lately, and I need him to loosen up a little.” She got up, heading for the kitchen to refill her empty glass. “And you can call him the 'fiercest warrior in the room’ only once I’m gone from this world.”

Quynh laughed quietly and scooped closer to Nile, who was lazily trying to engage Booker into an art debate. The frenchman was mostly content to listen, while resisting the urge to drift off to sleep.

Joe, who was sitting right next to him, was about to pitch in as well, when suddenly Nicky decided to get up from the armchair and drop himself unceremoniously into his partner’s lap.

“Hi.”

The room went quiet for about half a minute, before Nile tactfully started talking again, soon followed by both Booker and Quynh. However, it didn’t stop them from taking turns to glance back at the couple every once in a while.

“Well, hi to you.” Joe wasn’t used to Nicky being openly affectionate in front of their family, and wasn’t sure if he should indulge in this. He didn’t want Nicky to feel mortified the next morning. Still, he put his hands very lightly on each side of Nicky’s waist. “Do you want to go to bed?”

Nicky tilted his head on the side a little, looking at him with lust. “Would you care to join me?”

Joe was a little flushed by the situation, but couldn’t help the soft smile that escaped his lips. “I have to say, your proposition sounds extremely appealing, but if you think you can get my pants off of me that easily…” he trailed off, winking.

Now it was Nicky’s turn to feel embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” He took a deep breath and lowered his voice. “You are very handsome. And I want you. Very much. And I think your body wants me too. So, if you accept to be my lover, I can bed you and make sweet love to you. Or rough love. Both. I think I would enjoy both very much.”

It took Joe a whole minute to register all the words that came out of Nicky’s mouth. His Nicky, who was always shy with words (but never with gestures), who took months to actually voice his love for Joe at the beginning of their shared journey, but was now apparently propositioning him in the middle of a room full of people.

The same Nicky who, in the meantime, was getting worried by the lack of response. “Please be assured that this wouldn’t be a one time occurrence, I wouldn’t dare deflower your body without promptly making an honest man out of you…"

At which point Joe couldn’t help it and burst into laughter. “Well, that is very noble of you,” he said, and then, just because he wanted to see how far he could push it, “but unfortunately I’m already united in wedlock.”

The color drained entirely from Nicky’s face, making it very clear that this was not the answer he was expecting. Joe immediately regretted his words, and was about to add more concerning the obvious piece of information that Nicky was missing, when he got distracted by Booker, who was laughing hard at one of Nile’s joke, squeezing Joe’s arm with both of his hands in the process and putting his forehead on his shoulder. “Did you hear it? Man, that was hilarious.”

Joe faintly registered that Nicky was moving from his lap and slopingly getting up, but didn’t want to be rude to the rest of his family. “I’m sorry, I was not listening, would you mind repeating it?”

While Booker was making himself more comfortable into his side, Joe vaguely noticed Nicky leaving the room, but decided to stay and listen to Nile before following him and explain the misunderstanding. Or at least that was the intention, spoiled completely by Nicky who came back in the room almost in a rush and vehemently slapped Booker with a glove.

For the second time of the night, the room went very, very quiet.

“I demand satisfaction!,” Nicky exclaimed in a loud voice, slurring only slightly and making sure that the attention of everyone was on him, “this man has been distracted in frivolous conversation for the entire night, and when I decided to make a move on his beloved, only then he reminded himself of his duty as a husband! But tonight, we will end this,” he said, his fierce eyes on Booker, “I challenge you to a duel.”

Nile was, surprisingly, the first one to break the silence. “Is this a regular thing?” she said, uncertain on how she should feel about the whole situation.

“No, it is not.” The mischievous light in Andy’s eyes was unmistakable. “Ladies, let’s go get the popcorns, we can’t miss this for anything in the world.”

“Boss, you can’t be serious,” Booker called after her, but was clearly ignored. He straightened himself up. “Nicky, come on, I’m n—“

“Not. Another. Word.” Nicky looked at him pointedly in the eyes, before dropping on one knee and taking Joe’s hands in his. “You have to forgive me, I have acted out of pride, without even asking in which direction your heart was pointing…"

“You. It was pointing at you. Tonight, tomorrow, always. I would always choose you,” Joe didn’t hesitate for a single moment, and was rewarded by Nicky’s beautiful smile.

“Well, let the challenge begin!” Nicky pointed at his sword and at Joe’s scimitar, set on the wall on a corner of the room. “We have the weapons, now we just need some… space.”

“I’m glad our backyard is huge,” Quynh took the blades and started walking outside, “chop chop guys, we don’t have all night! Some of us want to use the early morning hours for better activities.” She winked at Andy, while Nile was rolling her eyes, clearly over their not-so-subtle flirting.

They were followed by Nicky and Joe, while Booker was contemplating the idea of making a run for it and loose himself in the Parisian night. He shook the thought out of his head and joined the rest of them outside, aware of the fact that sometimes his family could be too goddamn much.

“It’s going to be a duel to first blood! Since, well, death wouldn’t stick anyway…” Quynh clapped her hands, excitedly, “good luck to the contenders!” she yelled, before going to sit next to Andy and starting to eat the popcorns with way too much enthusiasm.

Nicky was about to reach for the sword, but Joe pushed the scimitar in his hands instead. “A token of love,” he whispered tenderly, before giving Nicky a light kiss on the cheek.

Booker took the sword and sent a clearly exasperated look in their direction, but couldn’t help the little smile on his lips. He really did admire the lengths these two would go to keep their love alive, he just wished they didn’t need to involve the entire family on a regular basis.

Andy gave the signal, and soon enough they started to fight. In a normal situation, Nicky would have had the upper hand, but he was still heavily inebriated, and only his consummated skills as a warrior made it seem like he was doing perfectly fine. He shielded himself from a couple of blows and was about to strike, but he got distracted by Joe’s anxious stare and tight grip on Nile. That was all Booker needed to make a cut on his forearm.

Cheers erupted from both Quynh and Andy, who run to Booker and started clapping on his shoulders, while Joe rushed on Nicky’s side. “My love, are you alright? I should have not given you the scimitar, not after you had so much alcohol…”

Nicky put a hand on Joe's cheek, stroking him softly. “Don’t you worry for me, vita mia. The only thing that makes me sad is to be parted from you.”

“No one will ever part us, hayati. I belong by your side.”

“Even if I lost to him?” At Joe’s strong nod, Nicky pushed the issue further. “You would leave your husband for me?”

“In a heartbeat.”

Nicky looked triumphant, and pulled Joe in a fierce kiss, before taking his hand and walking back into the house, leaving the others behind.

“I say one week.”

Nile, who had been distracted by Nicky and Joe’s epic act of love, turned her head at the other three people left there, looking utterly confused.

“What are you guys talking about?”

They completely ignored her.

“Very optimistic of you, Booker. A month,” Andy smirked, looking entirely confident.

“Oh please, Andy! It’s wasn’t that bad,” Quynh was shaking her head, clearly unimpressed, “I’m not even sure it’s going to last more than 24 hours.”

Andy started laughing very loudly. “None of you has known Nicky for as long as I did. He has a serious problem with holding grudges.”

“Guys,” Nile tried again, “what are you betting on?”

Booker took pity on her. “How long before we’ll have to leave them alone in the house to avoid the noises of celebratory sex."

“I’m pretty sure they are doing... ‘that’ right as we speak?” Nile loved her new family, she really did, but she still wasn’t comfortable with the amount of intimate information that were often shared as an off-hand comment.

“Definitely not,” Andy was looking straight at her, “Joe would never take advantage of a drunk Nicky. Even if I honestly doubt Nicky would have any objection.”

Nile shrugged, “Well, then tomorrow morning.”

“That’s when Nicky is going to wake up and remember.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Joe was awakened by the morning sun, and he stirred lazily while keeping his eyes shut. He didn’t remember the last time he had been in such a good mood right at the beginning of the day. After the duel, he and Nicky had sat on the bed for a long time, making out like a couple of teenagers, until Nicky had wanted to push it a little further and Joe had gently stopped him, pressing him to lay down on the bed. They had lazily curled into each other and had been fast asleep only moments later.

But now they were both sober, and Joe was very well intentioned to take his sweet time and make love to the perfect, gorgeous man who was laying by his side.

Except Nicky was not by his side, and suddenly Joe realized that his arms were empty. He moved his hand up and down the other side of the bed, until his fingers brushed along other fingers. He tried to reach for them, but after a gentle squeeze, the other hand left his. He opened his eyes.

His Nicky was looking at him with something that looked like… disappointment.

“Nicolò, come back to bed.”

There was no answer. No reaction.

“Light of my eyes, moon of my life, can you tell me what is wrong?”

Nicky kept glaring at him, much to Joe’s dismay.

“Tell me again how you would leave your husband… in a heartbeat?” Nicky’s statement was followed by a heavy sigh, and a shake of the head. “I didn’t think you such a cruel man, Yusuf.”

Joe’s eyes widened, in alarm. “Nicky, I was talking about… him! Not you! And even by intending you as my husband, which was by the way absolutely not what was happening, I would have still left you… for you!” Joe knew he was making absolutely no sense, but he had just woken up. And he and mornings didn’t necessarily get along.

Nicky shook his head again, clearly dismissive. “I’m deeply hurt, my heart. Someone bats their eyes at you and suddenly you forget all about your husband.”

“You were batting your eyes at me, not just… someone!” Joe was slightly starting to panic. “I wouldn’t notice anyone else if they tried to bat their eyes at me!”

“If you say so.” Nicky got up from the bed, and only then Joe noticed that he was already dressed up. “I’m taking a walk with Nile. Let’s see if when I come back, you’re going to be here, or if you have just decided to run away and leave your husband in a heartbeat.”

Nicky exited the room without another word, content to just leave a loudly groaning Joe on the bed. He made it to the kitchen, where Andy was drinking her coffee.

“How long?”

“A month.”

“Never going to happen,” Nicky was fighting the urge to smile, “I am merely trying to make a point. My instincts are already screaming in protest."

Andy rolled her eyes.

“Fine. But at least wait more than a week, I don’t want to lose to /Booker/.”

“I said this morning,” Nile approached Nicky and touched him lightly on the arm, “and by the look of it, it feels like that’s what you want to go for.”

“My dear, dear Nile,” Nicky covered her hand with his own, “let’s go quickly buy you something with the money that our brothers and sisters are going to owe you.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

(originally written for @percivlgraves birthday

(Notes:

1) this is my first fanfiction in almost seven years, hopefully it’s not too bad;

2) this is my first fanfiction in english E V E R, please don’t be too harsh, I swear I’ll try to improve!!)

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kinktae · 5 years ago

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bitchin’ || pt. 4 (M)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.

pairing: fratboy!jungkook x reader

word count: 5k

genre: 1980s au, eventual smut, e2l

warnings: multiple smut scenes, science talk, banter, jealousy, alcohol & LOTS of colorful 80s slang lmao

A/N: This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness!

OFFICIAL PLAYLIST

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

PART FOUR

“Ouch! Watch it, Yara! You’re stabbing me!”

Yara released her grip from the striped material of your sweater, letting it fall back down against your torso.

“I’m sorry… Is your personal tailoring experience not luxurious enough? Did you want some sparkling water? Some Crystal Light, perhaps?” The petite girl quipped, eyes narrowing.

You pressed your lips together, holding back the snarky remark that was wanting to come out from between them. You really weren’t in any position to complain. Yara had gone to the trouble of coming up with both your and Jungkook’s costumes, not to mention the fact that she was missing her scheduled viewing of Saved By The Bell just to help you get ready — truly honorable act on her part.

Shutting the pair of scissors with a sharp snip, your best friend placed them down onto the bathroom sink decisively, clearly satisfied with the holes she had carved into your oversized red and green sweater.

“What do you think? I can smear some more brown eyeshadow on the sweater if you want.”

Turning towards the mirror, you let your eyes fall over Yara’s handwork.

When Yara said you were going to be Freddie Krueger you should have expected that there would be no half-assing on her part. Jungkook was right in his assessment that the two of you were similar. Yara, although sometimes indolent, was absolutely unstoppable when she set her mind to something.

“It looks great. You went above and beyond as always.” You flashed her reflection a smile.

Reaching for the hat that sat on the counter, Yara plopped it onto your head, a satisfied grin finding her as she took in the completed look.

“So are you ready?” She inquired. “Tonight’s the big night. You nervous?”

“A little…” You confessed, shrugging. At your words, Yara adjusted your hat slightly.

“Don’t be. We went over the game plan last night, remember?”

Keeping still until your best friend’s creative vision for your hat was completed, you let out a sigh.

“Yeah.”

It should be easy; smile, hang onto Jungkook’s arm as if he was your life support, and be sure to kiss him somewhere everyone could see. Piece of cake. Totally.

Sensing a weight behind your tone, Yara offered you an encouraging smile, her hands finding yours.

“You’re gonna have a totally kick-ass time, I’m sure.” She enthused.

“As long as Jungkook doesn’t sneak off to go bang his ex and leave me alone. I don’t know anyone who is gonna be there.” You sulked, before tapping a finger against your chin in contemplation. “Then again, it wouldn’t be the worst thing ever. If he and Kiri get back together, I can finally stop pretending to date him.”

At your words, Yara’s eyebrows furrowed as if to tell you something you had said hadn’t sat well with her. Before she got the chance to express what that was, however, a loud series of knocks rang out.

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” You mused dryly causing Yara to laugh.

“I’ll go let him in, you stay here and try on the socks.” She ordered as she walked out, slamming the bathroom door behind her, leaving you without a choice.

You were curious however, ears tuned into the greeting that was just outside the door as Jungkook came in. Slipping on one of the socks, you brought it up to your knee, tugging at the fabric until it was no longer bunching around your ankle.

“What the hell? You cropped the shirt yourself, didn’t you? I told you I was gonna cut it for you.”

“Chill out. What’s your damage? I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to cut my own shirt.”

“Yeah, nice going, dipshit. It’s fucking crooked!”

You let out a sigh.

Your best friend and fake boyfriend could not be left unattended for even a minute without needing you to play referee, it seemed.

Pushing the bathroom door open, you poked your head out, “Children, children, let’s play nice–”

Jungkook’s head turned to you, expression softening from the irritated glare he was offering Yara just moments ago. You hardly noticed, however, too captivated by what he was wearing to pay the gentle way he looked at you any mind.

He was in a cropped white jersey, the number 10 plastered across his chest in blue just above the ragged seam of where the shirt ended, exposing inches of the lower half of his firm stomach, causing your face to flame.

Low on his hips was a pair of blue sweatpants, the ends of them tucked into his high top Chuck Taylor’s that were similar, if not the same, to the pair you had been planning on wearing.

Johnny Depp would surely be proud of Jungkook’s rendition of Glen Lantz, you decided. He even wore the same pair of silver headphones around his neck.

You cleared your throat, finally pulling your eyes away from your pretend lover’s torso.

“Wow… that’s crooked.”

“Hah! Told you.” Yara pressed, pleased at your assessment.

“Remind me why I put up with the two of you again?” Jungkook frowned, crossing his arms over his chest, unaware of the way it caused his already short shirt to ride up further.

Pulling yourself from the bathroom altogether, you walked over to the couch, plopping down onto it as you began to put on your other sock.

“Sick costume, nerd.” Jungkook praised, eyes fixated on you as you moved. “You’d make a hot serial killer.”

“Yeah, well, don’t cream your pants.” You teased, flashing him a grin.

“I can’t promise anything tonight. I’m a frisky drunk.” He winked back, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Ugh, barf me out. You’re the first on my list when I finally crack and go full homicidal.” You informed him, causing him to chuckle.

“Pleasure and pain. You really know how to get me going, Y/N.”

Yara was leaning up against the kitchen counter, quietly watching the two of you with increasing intrigue. Taking in the way the sides of your eyes creased in amusement as you continued your banter with your so-called fake boyfriend, she suppressed a smirk.

“Well…” Yara finally spoke up, a sly look on her face, “as endearing as I find your warped, semi-abusive way of flirting with one another... I have a show to catch so if you both could just hurry it up—”

“Woah, woah, woah, we’re not flirting.”

“Get real, as if I’d be flirting with him.”

Yara could only laugh at the way you both denied her accusation immediately, words overlapping with one another in unison.

“Whatever. I’ve got fake blood in the bathroom. Jungkook follow me.” She brushed the two of you off.

The costumed boy flashed you a funny look before ultimately trailing after your best friend.

Chewing on your bottom lip in silent contemplation, you let yourself ponder on your best friend’s words.

That wasn’t flirting, was it? No, that was just you and Jungkook’s usual playful banter. Sure, maybe the two of you had gotten more comfortable with one another as the days have ticked by, but it wasn’t as if it was anything more than that, right?

Lately, you had been catching yourself growing somewhat excited about seeing Jungkook, even though you saw him nearly every day. Somehow having the messy-haired boy in your life had become routine.

Having Jungkook by your side felt normal as if you wouldn’t mind it if things were always this way. And that scared you.

Shaking your head, you began to put on your shoes, tying up your laces solemnly.

The moment you held your event and Jungkook and Kiri were back together, things would go back to the way they were before. You didn’t want Jungkook to be someone you were going to miss, but it seemed like with every lopsided grin he threw at you he was cementing himself into your life more and more.

This business venture of yours was looking out to be more costly than you initially anticipated.

But as Jungkook and Yara walked out of the bathroom chatting excitedly, Yara’s hands stained and Jungkook’s jersey now smeared with fake blood, you couldn’t help but feel like you’d be willing to pay the price if it meant that this warm feeling in your chest would last just a little while longer.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jungkook asked you, hand gripping yours tighter.

You tried your best to meet his eyes. It was difficult considering how dimly lit the room was. Fitting though, considering this party was Halloween themed.

“Yes. You’ve asked me that four times now.” You told him loudly, trying to be heard over the loud sound of Michael Jackson’s Thriller playing throughout the house.

“I dunno, you’re not saying anything. It’s, like, freaking me out.” He admitted.

“I’m just… observing.”

“Observing what?”

He watched as your stare fixated itself on the beer pong tournament that was occurring across the room, excited shouts coming from several people as one of Jungkook’s brothers scored a point.

“Gorillas.” You said, finally. “In their natural habitat.”

Jungkook laughed, enjoying the way your nose scrunched up at them.

“Hey now, did we say before we got here?” He tutted disapprovingly, waging a finger at you. You followed the digit with the frown.

“Yeah, yeah, I promised no judging the common folk. This is how the intellectually lesser entertain themselves, I remember.” You sighed out, gaze flicking up to catch the amusement in Jungkook’s eyes.

The costumed boy nudged his shoulder into yours; he liked it when you joked around with him like this. It made him feel like you were comfortable around him and that you might even enjoy his company.

“Do you know what you need?” He began happily.

“I do not but my answer is already no.”

“A drink.” He continued, ignoring you.

Suddenly, you were yanked forward, Jungkook leading you by the hand towards where you assumed the drinks were.

You hadn’t been at the party for very long, but already the social interaction had exhausted you. Jungkook was far more popular than you had previously concluded; the two of you could hardly take two steps before running into someone who wanted to say hello to the frat boy attached to you.

It was daunting in a sense – the concept that every person that came up to him was going to leave the interaction with the impression that you were Jungkook’s girlfriend. Perhaps guilt wasn’t the right word, but something about the way the party’s attendees glanced down at yours and Jungkook’s intertwined hands caused your stomach to flip and neck to grow hot.

So you kept to yourself mainly, letting your socially confident boyfriend do all the talking. You didn’t mind, really; it was somewhat remarkable the way Jungkook could handle himself in a social situation. He had a way of acting like every person that stopped to chat was important.

As Jungkook and you made your way into the large fraternity house’s kitchen, you wondered if it wasn’t acting at all and if he was just that nice of a person.

“Righteous costume, JK!” A disembodied voice called out from somewhere, clearly directed at Jungkook.

You hardly had time to decipher where the voice had come from before an outrageously good looking boy draped in a white toga came forward, pulling Jungkook into a hug.

“You finally cut your hair. Looking good, Tae.” Jungkook laughed back, patting the handsome man’s back affectionately.

You watched their interaction with interest. This wasn’t acting, as far as you knew. Judging by the way Jungkook’s laugh has grown higher in pitch, something you had noticed occurred when he was genuinely happy, you knew you were witnessing genuine friendship, not just polite socializing.

“And who is this lovely lady who, might I add, looks killer? Pun totally intended.” The model man mused, eyes flashing your way.

You felt heat prickle at your cheeks.

“Taehyung, this is my girlfriend Y/N, Y/N this is Kim Taehyung. He’s head of our finance committee.” Jungkook introduced the two of you, causing your eyes to grow wide.

So this was the guy Jungkook had told you about. The guy who could help you throw your event.

Taehyung let out a scoff, “Seriously? That’s how you introduce me? The finance guy? I’m also your favorite brother, could’ve opened up with that one.”

“Taehyung’s my Big. He’s taken me under his wing or whatever.” Jungkook explained, running a hand through his dark hair.

A nervous giggle escaped you, taking Taehyung’s extended hand into yours to greet.

“Nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I’ve heard a lot about you.” The mulleted man grinned, causing one of your eyebrows to quirk up in surprise.

“You have?”

Taehyung put his hands up defensively, not noticing the way Jungkook’s expression had fallen beside him, “All good things, don’t worry. The kid talks about you nonstop—”

“Hey! So Y/N has been thinking about throwing an event here on campus, isn’t that right, babe?” Jungkook interrupted suddenly.

The arrival of the new pet name caught you off guard for a moment, before remembering that you and Jungkook were meant to be a couple after all.

“Oh yeah, Jungkook mentioned something like that to me. Tell me about it.” Taehyung said.

You stood silent for a moment, realizing that this moment was the one you had been anticipating all week long.

Relaxing your shoulders, you grinned at him.

It was now or never.

“Yeah! So the event is called STEM for FEM. I’ve got all kinds of games and pamphlets prepared. It’s basically meant to show girls that no matter what people think, there are in fact opportunities for us in the more traditionally male-dominated fields. It may be a steep road, but it’s one worth taking. And they’re not alone. There are programs out there that girls can reach out to. They offer all kinds of support; emotional, educational, financial—“

Jungkook reached for a cooler that sat by his feet, pulling out a beer. You didn’t need him for this. This was precisely what he had watched you practice into the mirror over and over; you were ready.

Popping open the can, he took a small sip, a small smile creeping on his face as he watched the way the fire in your eyes spread, your pretty lips wrapping around the words that you carried in your heart wherever you went.

“That’s radical, girl. It sounds like you’re really passionate about this stuff, huh?”

Jungkook caught Taehyung’s reply once he walked back over to you guys. He had gone off to make you a drink, figuring that cranberry juice and vodka would ease any sales pitch nerves you might have.

“Yeah, I am.” You smiled. “I’m a biology major myself.”

You tore your eyes away from the blond boy to take the red solo cup he was offering. Bringing the cup up to your nose, you sniffed it experimentally.

“Do you have a sponsor?”

You were grateful that you hadn’t taken a sip of your drink yet as had any liquid been inside your mouth you surely would have choked on it.

“Oh, uh! Not yet!” You squeaked out, causing Jungkook to fight down a chuckle.

“Because Beta Tau Sigma happens to be under our campus philanthropy quota and we’d love to support a cause like yours.” Taehyung offered, causing your heart to soar.

“Really?” You gaped.

“Sure! Just swing by anytime this week and I’m sure we can work out the details.”

This was happening. The event you had poured your absolute heart and soul into planning was actually going to happen… holy shit.

“Wow, that’s just… wow!” You replied, breathlessly. “Thank you! Thank you so much, seriously. I can’t even begin to thank you enough…”

Taehyung shook his head, clearly amused, “No need to thank me, it’s a worthy cause. Besides, think of it as a thank you.”

“A thank you? For what?”

“For dating my brother. You’re the reason he comes home every night grinning like an idiot after all.” He grinned cheesily.

A smile broke out onto your face despite yourself, but the good atmosphere didn’t last for long, as a hand finding yours caught your attention.

“Alright, alright, enough sappy shit.” Jungkook urged, cheeks tinted ever so slightly pink.

Much to the blushing boy’s chagrin, Taehyung reached over to rustle Jungkook’s long looks.

“I’m just teasing.” The blond laughed. “By the way, any chance you’ve seen Hobi?”

“No, why?”

“Dude is totally wasted. Heard someone say he was gonna jump off the roof into the pool.”

“The house doesn’t have a pool?” Jungkook blinked.

Taehyung flashed him a look as if to say ‘exactly.’

“Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Y/N. We’ll talk soon, yeah?” Taehyung asked.

“Absolutely.” You nodded.

“See ya later, man!” Taehyung called out through a crooked smile before slipping back into the crowd of people that lay just beyond the kitchen.

An excited squeal erupted from you, your hands reaching out towards Jungkook as he reciprocated your enthusiasm and embraced you in an elevated hug.

You let out a laugh, carefully holding onto the cup in your hand so as not to spill it before he set you back down.

“You did it!” He cheered.

“We did it.” You corrected.

“I didn’t do anything?” Jungkook looked at you in bewilderment.

You shook your head, “Not true. I would have never met Taehyung if it weren’t for you. Thank you, meathead.”

Jungkook looked at you warmly for a moment, knowing that despite the cruel nickname, your sincerity was genuine.

“Cheers, nerd. To a deal well done.” Jungkook said decidedly, holding out his beer.

Bumping your cup into his can, you took a swig of your drink, grimacing as the overwhelming taste of vodka made its way down your throat.

“Taehyung was awesome.” You began once you had downed a few more sips of the liquid poison. “I don’t know why I was expecting some ape-like barbarian.”

“Probably because of those gorillas you just saw over at the beer pong table.” Jungkook joked. “Yeah, Tae’s great. He’s a Legacy too, so everybody here loves him.”

You stared at him blankly, clearly not understanding the term.

Jungkook sighed, “I mean he comes from a long family of Beta Tau Sigma alumnae. His older brother Seokjin graduated last year—”

“Wait, Seokjin? You don’t mean… Kim Seokjin… our lab professor?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Yep.”

“No way! But he’s so…” Your eyebrows furrowed, struggling for the right word.

“Smart?” Jungkook assumed flatly.

You fought back a smile, “I was not gonna say that.”

“Mhm, I’m so sure.”

“Anyway,” You smiled, poking a finger into Jungkook’s chest, “I had no clue you liked me so much.”

“What do you mean?”

“You talk about me? I’m the reason you come home grinning every night?” You recalled Taehyung’s words.

You watched in amusement as Jungkook visibly tensed.

“W-Well, duh. You’re my fake girlfriend, I mean, it would be weird if I didn’t do any of those things...” Jungkook defended, eyes narrowing at you suddenly. “Quit gloating.”

“I’m not gloating.” You smirked.

“Yes, you are. I can see it in your face. You’re a gloater.” He said decidedly, moving to make himself a drink.

“How very dare you! I am nothing of the sort.”

“Admit it, Y/N. You relish in my misfortune.” He poured some cranberry juice into a cup, clearly moving to recreate your drink.

“The fact that I relish in your misfortune has nothing to do with this.” You waved off quickly, sending the two of you into giggles.

You somehow managed to down your cup, flashing Jungkook a grateful smile as he began to make you a new one.

You were admiring the way Jungkook’s shoulders filled out his jersey when another voice made itself known, pushing its way into the kitchen.

“Kookie, is that you?”

It was Kiri. The way Jungkook jerked around immediately, eyes as wide as saucers, told you that much.

Turning to where Jungkook’s eyes were fixated, you came to find a tall and leather-clad girl, her curled hair unmoving as she strutted forward. You couldn’t hear anything over the hum of the music playing throughout the house but you’d imagined you would hear the sound of her bright red heels rapping against the tile floor if it were quiet.

Her top was black and off the shoulder, and it dawned on you that she was dressed as Sandy from Grease.

You watched in silence as Jungkook nodded at her, a grin on his face.

“Haven’t seen you in a while. Thought you were avoiding me.” Kiri smirked, teeth on full display.

“Avoid you? Never.” Jungkook teased.

Suddenly, a weird feeling bubbled in your stomach as you watched the two interact.

Strange. Must be the vodka.

“I’ve just been busy, I guess.” He shrugged, clearly trying to play it coy.

At his words, Kiri’s eyes flickered to you, causing you to freeze.

“So I’ve heard.” She said simply. You smiled at her awkwardly.

Clearing his throat, Jungkook jumped into action, “Y/N meet Kiri. Kiri meet Y/N, my girlfriend.”

“Y/N L/N, right? I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” Kiri admitted, eyes shaded with something you couldn’t quite decipher.

“You, uh, have?”

“Of course!” She smiled, although it didn’t quite meet her eyes. “I like to keep tabs on all the girls in Greek life… or I guess in your case, have had Greek life in them.

You blinked.

Jungkook eyes quickly moved to you. Crap. He knew Kiri well enough to detect a catty comment from her no matter how innocently she presented it. You were smart; he was sure you had caught exactly what she was implying.

For a moment, no one said anything. Jungkook gripped his cup tighter, wondering if he should say something to ease the nearly palpable tension.

However, before he got the chance, you smiled, cocking your head to the side.

“No worries, I get it. You wanted to scope out your ex’s new girlfriend, right?”

Jungkook let out a breath, realizing that you weren’t looking for any kind of conflict.

You could tell you words pleased Kiri with the way the side of her painted lips turned upward.

“So, Jungkook told you about me. How flattering.”

“Actually, he hasn’t said a word.” You smiled.

You took a step forward; it wasn’t anything aggressive or confrontational, but it was enough to capture Jungkook’s attention.

“Let’s just say I also like to keep tabs on things involving those that go inside of me.” You lowered your voice, sending Kiri a small wink.

Jungkook must know you pretty well too because he also knew that your comment wasn’t nearly as lighthearted as you made it out to be. He fought back a grin.

Kiri straighten up suddenly, “So what are you two dressed up as? A dumb jock and dirty Waldo?”

‘Well, she’s certainly not being subtle anymore.’ Jungkook thought dryly.

“Freddie Krueger and Glen Lantz. Like from Nightmare at Elm’s Street.” Jungkook answered, no longer bothering to uphold a pleasant tone.

“Is that so? I don’t watch horror movies.” Kiri shrugged.

“I know you don’t.” He reminded her.

“So did you come alone? Or is there a Danny Zuko somewhere that you’re matching with?” You asked casually, not liking the way your insides churned every time Jungkook and Kiri spoke to one another.

“He’s over there by the booth. He’s in charge of the music.” She replied, polished finger directing you where to look.

Sure enough, across the room on an elevated platform was a DJ booth, the man who was operating the device sporting a leather jacket and greased hair.

A gasp fell through your lips as you took him in, recognizing him immediately.

“That’s—” You cut yourself off immediately, turning away from him. “...so cool! Him being a DJ and whatnot.”

Kiri nodded cautiously, clearly catching on to the way you had changed your tune suddenly.

“You know what, I think Jungkook and I are gonna head over to the dance floor. But it was really great meeting you, Kiri.” You told her, reaching for Jungkook’s hand.

Your fake boyfriend sensed your urgency and took your hand comfortably.

“Nice seeing you.” Jungkook called out to her breezily as the two of you began to walk away, not bothering to give Kiri another glance.

Your heart was pounding but you tried your best to look nonchalant, knowing Kiri was probably watching the two of you leave.

As you reached the dance floor, you allowed yourself a sparing glance around to make sure that Kiri was out of ear’s reach before you wrapped your arms around Jungkook’s neck and began to sway your hips.

Bringing your mouth to his ear, you spoke, “Kiri is dating Eunwoo.”

Jungkook sent you a look, “Yeah. I know.”

You shook your head as Jungkook’s hands found your waist, keeping up with your pace.

“You don’t understand. Eunwoo is Yara’s ex.”

“Wait– Really?”

You nodded.

“Great. So he’s banged two of my girlfriends then. I swear to god, Y/N, if he tries to get into your pants next I’m gonna kick his ass into the next decade.” Jungkook grunted. You laughed.

“I just don’t understand. I swear he was in love with Yara just last week. He used to slip love notes under our door for her, you know. I even didn’t know he was in a frat?” You frowned.

“He’s a new member. He was just initiated a little while back. Fucking prick.”

That made sense. From what you had gathered tonight, everyone within Jungkook’s fraternity seemed quite friendly with one another— it didn’t make sense that an active member would betray Jungkook like that.

“You handled that very well, by the way.” Your pretend lover spoke suddenly.

“What? Kiri? Whatever, I’ve dealt with worse girls in high school.” You shrugged easily, hand finding itself running in Jungkook’s hair.

He had mentioned once that he needed a haircut but it seems as if you had successfully managed to talk him out of it. You like his hair like this.

“She was trying to use an intimidation technique that Gamma Alpha Tau uses on possible pledges.” He explained. “I promise you she’s not always that…”

“Snarky? Judgmental? Standoffish?” You offered, quirking up a brow.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, “I just mean she’s usually better behaved than that.”

“Right. Well, either way, this is a good sign.”

“What is?”

“Her hating me. Just means she’s jealous and then we’re one step closer to closing your half of the deal.” You enthused.

“Speaking of the deal, I believe you owe me a kiss, Freddie.”

Jungkook’s words took you by surprise and as much as you wanted to wipe that slick grin off his face, you knew he was right.

Humming, you let go of his hair, moving closer so that his nose was brushed up against yours.

“Your move, meathead.” You urged, letting your bottom lip brush against his teasingly.

Pressed up against him like this, you could feel a low rumble erupt in his chest.

“You teasing me?” He mused lazily.

“Didn’t you say you liked your pleasure with some pain?”

If Jungkook had a reply, you didn’t catch it in time as his mouth found yours, distracting you from any trivial thoughts weighing you down.

Something was intoxicating about the way Jungkook kissed you; he wasn’t rushed or in any hurry, but the way his mouth moved against yours made your chest pound as you brought your fingers up to pull at his hair.

Maybe it was the alcohol, perhaps it was the sound of Rick James in the air, but when his hand found your jaw and his tongue ran itself along your bottom lip you happily obligated, whimpering as his tongue moved against yours with the same fervor as the kiss you shared on your bed.

Jungkook was trying his hardest to hold back, he really was, but with the way your fingers pulled against his scalp, he felt himself start to grow greedily, grinding his hips against yours.

A whimper left your mouth and before you could make left from right, Jungkook broke the kiss and turned you around, pressing his chest into your back.

Heat rocketed to your face as you were suddenly reminded that you were in a room full of people, kissing Jungkook like this.

Your worries were soon eased as he began to press a trail of kisses down your neck, causing you to sigh.

“Wanna blow this popsicle stand? I’ve got a bottle of Malibu in my room with our name on it.” He murmured into your neck.

For a moment, you wondered if you should say no. If Jungkook kept touching you like this, especially with alcohol in your system, there was no guarantee what you’d do.

You let out a squeak as Jungkook’s tongue found your neck, the hot muscle dancing against your skin.

Letting your eyes roll over the room, you froze as they met a familiar pair.

Kiri was stood by the DJ Booth, eyes fixated on you two, her stare cold and unmoving.

Suddenly, a feeling came over you. It felt hot and not in the nice way Jungkook had been making you feel. You hardened your stare, holding her eyes. Was this why Jungkook kissed you? Did he know Kiri was watching?

Sensing the way you had tense against him, Jungkook pulled away from your neck.

“Something wrong?”

Fine. If Jungkook wanted to put on a show for her, then you were happy to assist.

Instead of replying, you turned your head and answered with your mouth, kissing him in a way you knew Kiri wouldn’t be able to ignore.

“Let’s get outta here.” You breathed as you broke the kiss.

Jungkook’s eyes were dark, eyelids low as a positively devilish smirk crept over him.

Following him as he lead you out of the room, you couldn’t help but glance behind you, the sides of your mouth curling up as you met Kiri’s glare once more.

5K notes · View notes

jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years ago

Text

Whiskey and Roses

Pairings: Arthur Shelby x Reader

Request: “ Whiskey Pecan Pie was so sweet!! Could you make a second part where they go on a date and confess?:)” - Anon

Warnings: Brief mention of drug use

Word Count: 2154

__________________________

The business Tommy had called a meeting for hadn’t been nearly as important as the way Finn had made it seem. Damn him, pulling Arthur away from you, his only refuge from the darkness that seemed to consume his life. But whatever, he’d be going back to see you tomorrow anyways.

Everyone had been mulling around the Shelby Company Ltd. after the meeting, Tommy not having given directions for anything but rather just filled everyone in on his newest diabolical plan. Arthur retired back to his office, away from the average blokes who filled the room, wasting their money on rigged races in the main room.

He set the tart that had remained untouched so far on the wood of his desk and looked down at it, the warm feeling that his younger brother had stolen from him slowly returning at the thought of you.

“You like her don’t you?” Finn’s voice asked from the doorway, a boyish knowing smile on his face while he leaned against the frame of the door.

Arthur looked up from his pie and straightened his jacket out, trying to bluff his feelings away, “I don’t know what you mean. Like who?”

Finn pushed himself off the wooden frame and walked into the room, “The girl from the bakery. The one who made you that.” He pointed to the tart, “What even is it?”

Arthur sighed, knowing that he’d been caught. Around Tommy or John, perhaps he would have tried to conceal his feelings but Finn had this innocence and desire to be trusted by his older brothers that made him a perfect confidant for little schoolyard things like crushes. “I think she said it was a whiskey pecan pie? Or tart? I don’t fucking know.”

“Well, is it any good?” Finn was doing a terrible job of hiding the fact that he wanted to try it as well because it did look undeniably delicious.

Arthur shrugged, “Haven’t tried it yet.” He picked it up and broke a piece off the end before handing the plate over to his youngest brother for him to try. Neither of them needed to comment on the taste. It was amazing. It was salty but sweet and there was just the right amount of whiskey. The crust was buttery and flaky. It was one of the best desserts either Shelby boy had ever had.

“Wow-” Finn said eventually, “You should marry this girl.” He added with a laugh.

The thought of marrying you made his heart warm, “Yeah, maybe I should.”

“Who are we marrying now?” Tommy asked, walking into Arthur’s office like he owned the place. Well… he kinda did.

“The girl who works at the bakery that Arthur’s in love with.” Finn ratted him out and Arthur sent him a look of annoyance.

Tommy stopped and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket, gesturing to Arthur with them, “You fuck her yet?”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “That’s not all all girls are good for, Tommy.”

The other two Shelbys looked at Arthur in surprise. That wasn’t a phrase they ever expected to hear from… well, any of them except for maybe Finn. “Is she a nice girl?” Tommy questioned.

Arthur nodded, lovestruck “Pro’lly the nicest one I ever met.”

“Then don’t marry her.”

Finn’s face scrunched up, “What? Why?”

“You know how we live, what our lives are like. It’s no place for a nice girl.” Almost seamlessly, Tommy threw down a file onto Arthur’s desk, “These are some of our records from the books. I need you to sign them and make sure they’re all in order before I have Lizzy file them.” Without another word, Tommy left the room, leaving Arthur and Finn in there.

There was a heavy silence as the weight of what Tommy said hung over the room, “Maybe he’s right. I shouldn’t bring her into all this.” Arthur allowed his emotions to be silenced by his younger brother’s interjections once again.

Finn shook his head, “No, Arthur. Tommy always gets what he wants, whether it’s a lay or a wife. Why shouldn’t you get to be happy too?”

Arthur had never figured himself to be one for picking favorite siblings but he was pretty sure that if he did, Finn would be pretty high up on the list right now. “You’re right. I’m gonna ask her out on a date tonight.”

Later that evening, Arthur stood just around the corner from the bakery, shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other. He felt ridiculous. His hair was actually slicked back for once, something he never really put too much thought into since it almost always got messed up in fights anyways. Two pink roses tied together with twine were twirling in his hands, flowers that he actually paid for instead of demanding them or picking them from someone’s garden without asking.

“You can do this.” He muttered to himself under his breath, finally working up the courage to take the next step or two towards the door before stopping himself. No, you can’t! You probably look like a fucking idiot! The self-depricating part of his mind screamed at him and he backstepped. “Dammit!” He groaned as he warred with himself. This shouldn’t be this hard.

Little did he know, you were just leaving the bakery to head home for the evening. You walked out the front door, locking it behind you and sliding the key into your coat pocket before turning down the street to walk home. Arthur stood there - was he talking to himself? “Arthur Shelby, is that you?” You asked, surprised to see him over here this late.

Arthur looked up at you like a deer in headlights. Shit, you probably saw him talking to himself. “Oh, erm, hello there Y/N.” He greeted awkwardly, trying to pretend like he totally wasn’t arguing with himself a moment ago.

You walked up to him, the faint click of your heels carrying you to stand before him, “What’re you doing over here?” You asked curiously.

Arthur ripped his hat from his head as quickly as he could without slicing his hands and rang the material with his fingers, “Um, well, I- um, I actually came over here to see you and tell you that I think you’re really kind and beautiful and wanted to see if you maybe wanted to grab a drink with me tonight?” How did you possess the power to turn this commanding man into a babbling mess of word soup?!

Your face turned red and your eyes widened in surprise at the proposition, “Oh-”

“Oh! And these are for you!” Arthur suddenly remembered, holding out the two little pale pink roses to you.

You carefully took the roses from him, noticing that he actually took the time to pick off all the thorns so you wouldn’t prick yourself on them. Nobody had ever made a gesture like this for you. “They’re beautiful. Thank you. And I’d love to get drinks with you tonight. Can I just run home and change? I probably look and smell like a mess.” You chuckled, suddenly self-conscious about the flour that had managed to stick to your shirt despite the apron’s best effort to protect your clothes.

“I think you look great.” Arthur looked at you as if you held all the stars in your eyes. Sure, a few little tendrils of hair had fallen from your updo from the day’s work and there were a few faint little streaks of white flour on your blue blouse but you smelled of sugar and fruit after the long hours of work. He didn’t mind the tiny imperfections one bit. If anything, he thought they only made you look more perfect. They were a reminder that you weren’t some celestial hallucination from doing too much cocaine or alcohol but that you were real and tangible and beautiful.

“So where are we going off to drink then?” You initiated, taking a few steps forward until Arthur fell into stride beside you.

“I was thinking the Garrison, if that’s alright with you.” He scolded himself right when the words left his lips. Why hadn’t it occurred to him that a nice lady, as Tommy put it, probably wouldn’t want to be somewhere like the Garrison. It wasn’t exactly known as a high class establishment… or an establishment where anyone of any sort of class went. Fights amongst drunkards weren’t uncommon there and that was when-

“Sounds good to me.” You chirped next to him. Arthur looked down to see you smiling shyly, not a hint of apprehension about the location he’d picked on your face.

Arthur stammered, “You know the Garrison?” Did you even know what you were agreeing to?

You nodded, “Yeah, I mean, I’ve never been in but I walk past it on my way to and from the bakery every day.”

“Oh- oh, okay, then.”

How the hell had he managed to do nothing but screw up so far and still have you smiling by his side? Were you just being kind or were you blissfully unaware?

The walk was short and filled with small talk that had flowed surprisingly well, just as all your conversations had since you met. When the pair of you walked through the doors of the pub, a lot of people chose not to regard Arthur’s presence until they saw the fact that he actually looked like he did his hair and bothered to take off his hat and hold the door open for you. And did he brush his mustache?! One sharp look from the eldest Shelby, though, sent all the curious, snickering eyes away.

“What would you like?” He asked when you walked past the bar, his gruff voice sweet and soft.

You thought for a moment, “Can I have a pint please?”

“‘Nd I’ll have the usual.” Arthur told the bartender before leading you to a small booth in the back of the house, far enough away where the scent of whiskey and piss wasn’t reeking off the drunks.

“I must say, I had you pegged for more of a gin drinker.” Arthur commented and you shrugged.

“It’s nice sometimes but I guess I felt more like a beer right now. And what about you? ‘The usual?’” You echoed, “Come here often?” You already knew the answer. Like you said, you came past here every night. You were more than aware of the fact that the Shelbys owned it.

Arthur froze up, “Oh, well, um- we…”

“I’m only teasing, Arthur. I know you guys practically run this place.” You slid into the booth against the wall and Arthur took the seat across the table.

“You do?” This was it. The moment the entire illusion he’d tried to create about him being a good man was about to come crashing around him. You’d call him a liar and a no good dirty scoundrel or so much worse.

But none of that happened. Instead, you only nodded, “Mhm.” The bartender dropped your drinks off and you sipped the beer, noticing from over the brim of the glass the panic in Arthur’s eyes, “I do live here in Small Heath, Arthur. I know who you are. I know what you guys do.” Your voice wasn’t judgemental though, more matter-of-fact. Like you couldn’t believe he actually thought you were oblivious to the fact that he was one of the leaders of the Peaky Blinders.

“And-and you still came out with me tonight?” He was in shock, not only that you knew who he was but that he’d been caught in his lie. But he wasn’t really lying about who he was, was he?

“Of course, I did. I’ve known who you are since long before you ever came into the bakery. But you’ve always been so kind to me. And I can’t really deny my feelings for you.” You sipped your beer again before setting it down and leaning on the table.

Arthur was trying to calculate what in the actual fuck was going on. You knew the truth and you didn’t hate him? “Haven’t you heard any stories?”

“I’ve heard some.” You responded matter-of-factly, “But, in all honesty, gossip about a Shelby brother is always hard to come by with people fearing for their wellbeing and all.”

“And you still want to be with me?” Arthur eyed you, unsure if you were crazy or naive.

You leaned forward onto your elbows, hands almost touching his again, “Against all logic telling me that this probably isn’t a good idea, I can’t deny my feelings for you. Maybe it’s dumb, but I trust you. And until you prove to me otherwise, I’d like to keep it that way.”

“I know I’m not a perfect man. Probably far from even a decent one. But you are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met and you make me want to be a better man.” Arthur paused, “‘M sorry. I’ve never been good with words.”

You shook your head and grasped his hands gently, “I think you’re already better than you think you are.”

#Arthur Shelby #arthur shelby oneshot #arthur shelby imagine #arthur shelby x reader #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder headcanon

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ceescedasticity · 4 years ago

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Jin Guangyao’s Hoarding Problem, part 4

part 1, part 2, part 3

Jin Guangyao is having a really good week, and then suddenly he is having a really bad week.

This is mostly his father's fault. But he does feel that Madam Qin really could have chosen to share this information literally any time earlier in the courtship. Even if it was after Qin Su was pregnant, more time might have enabled him to come up with something! Even if she weren't pregnant calling off the wedding this late would be a significant scandal — what was Madam Qin thinking? Probably she wasn't thinking. No one around him ever thinks.

(He's not exactly thinking his clearest, either, but he doesn't realize that.)

He wants to get out of it. (The marriage still has its good points, if the secret can be guaranteed — but I don't think he would want a marriage which could only produce children who 'had to die'.)

(He could order Wen Qing to prepare an abortifacient, but then, he could in theory procure an abortifacient in any timeline. Honestly I wouldn't even be surprised if Madam Jin quietly keeps a stock on hand in case any of the household staff has a problem. And it seems like something Meng Yao ought to know about, doesn't it? But perhaps Meng Shi insisted he shouldn't pay attention to such filthy things, and he knows no more than most young gentlemen. Still, he could get his hands on one somehow — doing so discreetly is a challenge but not an insurmountable one. The trouble is that without Qin Su's forewarned cooperation, any termination of the pregnancy will be obviously a failed pregnancy, and marrying her is still the only honorable thing, but now with an added taint of sin for premarital sex and the shame of failing to cover it up, he can hear the remarks about his mother already.)

(He could have Qin Su non-fatally poisoned — enough to make her very sick and put off the wedding. But medical examination might reveal the pregnancy, and too long a delay definitely would.) (If he were willing to entertain the idea of telling Qin Su, this would be a good way to buy time to talk. There are so many more possibilities when she's not one of the people who has to be lied to.)

(He could have Qin Su fatally poisoned, and make sure no postmortem exam found the pregnancy, or at least that no one talked about it. But he doesn't have a scapegoat set up for a murder, and Madam Qin might suspect him.) (He also doesn't want to kill her, but that's not what deters him.)

(He could have Qin Su kidnapped, into the Dizang or elsewhere. But he doesn't have a scapegoat ready for that, either, and that still doesn't fix the pregnancy.)

(Now, if he could have her kidnapped, terminate the pregnancy, somehow alter her memory so she doesn't remember there ever was a pregnancy, somehow alter her memory so she doesn't remember the kidnapping, 'rescue' her, give the impression she's temporarily lost her wits from the experience and has probably also been ruined, well, the only compassionate thing is to cancel the wedding, cancel the engagement, send her home to her parents, terrible tragedy, maybe someday she can find happiness elsewhere. If he had a way to alter memories that quickly and precisely he might go with this despite the lack of prepared scapegoat.)

He decides the best option is to go through with the wedding and… deal with it later. Somehow.

(Highlights/"highlights" of the wedding celebrations include, but are not limited to:

It is Jiang Yanli's first major social event since her mourning period concluded. She spends most of her time trying to get Jiang Cheng to stay still long enough for her to talk to him. She's not mad at him!

Lan Xichen averts a disaster when he overhears and shuts down some speculation on whether Jiang Yanli will marry again — she'd have to come with a pretty hefty dowry, what with the health problems and so-so looks and rumored madness — before Jiang Wanyin hears any of it.

Nie Huaisang gets blackout drunk and throws up in the banquet hall, but not before laying the groundwork for five different problems with minor sects he can beg San-ge and Er-ge to help him with.

Su Minshan is totally unaware that Jin Guangyao's good week has become a terrible week and cries tears of joy at his benefactor's good fortune.

Sect Leader Yao gets tipsy and attempts to tell a bawdy story. It does not work very well.

Jin Ling is prevented from inviting himself to the banquet and throws a screaming tantrum not quite out of hearing.

Jin Guangshan comments on Qin Su's hips.

Jin Guangshan offers a minor Sect Leader's daughter jewelry to meet him in an inn in Lanling.

After both of the above incidents Madam Jin glares daggers at Jin Guangyao for some reason.

In fact Madam Jin glares daggers at Jin Guangyao the entire time.

Using the rebuilt Seal, Xue Yang sneaks into Jinlintai proper and steals an entire dessert course out of the kitchen.

On the plus side, he doesn't kill anyone and isn't spotted.

Congratulations!)

(Jiang Yanli eventually corners Jiang Cheng and tells him she isn't mad at him, and he's doing a wonderful job, and as soon as she can get the idea past the Jins she wants to take Jin Ling to Lotus Pier for at least a few months. Jiang Cheng is dubious about the first two assertions but can at least appreciate the third.)

Back in the Dizang it's been convenient that courtship and wedding preparations have occupied so much of Jin Guangyao's attention, because the preliminary results of the 'crying' research have been slightly more disruptive/strange than anticipated. It turns out that it is indeed possible to manually activate the tear glands of a fierce corpse, either by acupuncture needles or by talisman. After this, they will stream for four to six hours no matter what anyone does, which also gives them runny noses. After that, though, their eyes will water when they didn't before. When Wen Ning went through the procedure, he found that he could get tears triggered by emotions. He also discovered that crying gives him a dry mouth — the initial four-hour rain of tears gave him such a dry mouth he couldn't speak for a while.

This spun into everyone getting pulled into a study of 'how do fierce corpses regulate their moisture levels'. Water ghouls don't get waterlogged and fall to pieces. Fierce corpses in deserts don't desiccate and fall to pieces. They must regulate somehow. Missing moisture has to come from somewhere, and extra moisture has to go somewhere, and no one has ever looked into how before. It's disgusting. Xue Yang's never had so much non-homicidal fun in his life. (Well, a little homicidal, since he made the corpses, but not currently actively homicidal.)

Besides Xue Yang, all of this has been productive for Wen Qing and Wen Qing, Wei Wuxian is reluctantly fascinated, and Mo Xuanyu is non-reluctantly fascinated. He Zhi and He Jian are not having such a a good time, because all the fierce corpses besides Wen Ning are, you know, their relatives. Mo Xuanyu tries to help by suggesting Xue Yang can swap out the active experimental corpses with some that used to be whichever relatives they hated? There aren't any?! This leads to a discussion of Mo Xuanyu's maternal relatives. Xue Yang offers to kill them if the opportunity arises. Mo Xuanyu doesn't say no.

As soon as Jin Guangyao can get away for a day or two without anyone noticing — some nominal discreet inspection tour — he comes back to the Dizang and brushes off Mo Xuanyu's attempt to present his report on everything that's gone on while Jin Guangyao was busy with courtship and wedding (he doesn't want to think about courtships or weddings). He just goes and orders Wen Qing to invent a poison that can be administered either slowly or in parts, which will make the victim insane with lust and ultimately cause dramatic heart failure, preferably during sexual intercourse.

Wen Qing doesn't ask what his father did to finally push him over the edge, but it's a struggle. She does point out those are extremely specific requirements and she's not an herbalist. She will try if ordered to, but…

Hmmm. Yes. Good point. Perhaps what we want here is a curse. Yiling Laozu, design me a curse.

Wei Wuxian: What? I don't do curses, that was a false accusation—

Wei Wuxian's internal monologue: 'Mad with lust' curses exist, demons hit commoners with them all the time. I don't know the mechanics — well, I have a few ideas how it might work now that I think about it — I don't know how they work, though. A curse to kill someone the next time they have sex should be fairly straightforward, would be more straightforward if I'd gotten around to having sex, not bringing that up. No, I'm not bringing any of this up, I'm going to try to get out of helping Jin Guangyao murder someone. Even if it is probably his father, who deserves it. No. Besides, getting any of this to work on someone with high cultivation would be a challenge— PROBLEM! Would be a problem.

Jin Guangyao leaves him to think about that — for now — and goes down to the cell in the subbasement to (a) look at practically-a-puppet Nie Mingjue and feel smug about his own triumph and superiority, and (b) fantasize about using Nie Mingjue to kill Jin Guangshan.

He sends a message to Qin Su saying he's been injured, but please don't tell anyone, he doesn't want to show weakness. When he gets back, he claims the injury rendered him incapable of sex — but she can't tell anyone, she can't, he'll be ruined. Qin Su is dismayed, but vows she will keep the secret and considers him no less her husband for not being able to fulfill that duty. And at least they have the one child on the way! What a blessing.

Yes. A blessing.

(Qin Su keeps her word and doesn't tell anyone about the 'injury'. She does tell Jiang Yanli, in confidence, that her marriage isn't quite turning out as she expected it to.)

(Meanwhile Madam Jin has nothing against Qin Su personally, but is very determined that everyone remember Jin Guangyao's wife is not on the same level as other Madams Jin. Jiang Yanli does her best to mitigate it, but she still isn't taken as seriously as she should be. When it becomes known Qin Su is pregnant Madam Jin's attitude sours further.)

(Jiang Yanli is privately of the opinion that Qin Su is welcome to be preeminent Madam Jin; she just wants to go back to Yunmeng for good and have A-Ling adopted as a Jiang. Sadly that definitely won't happen unless Jin Guangshan and Madam Jin are both dead.) (Not that she'd be so unfilial as to hope for that.) (Much.)

(Madam Qin dies, somewhere in here. Jin Guangyao is nothing but relieved.) (Did he have something to do with it, besides causing distress by going ahead with the marriage? We may never know.)

Jin Guangyao introduces He Lei to Qin Su, although obviously not under that name. A-Lei is the mute half-wit sister of a loyal servant of his, he says; the man is often away on business so Jin Guangyao promised to find his sister safe and honorable employment — a touching story.

Qin Su promises to be kind to poor half-wit mute A-Lei, and is very patient with her inexperience as a lady's maid and shy nervousness.

Madam Jin not so much. Despite Qin Su's poor taste in husbands, she is still a gentlewoman and deserves better servants than a mangy stray that son of a prostitute brought in, probably out of a brothel.

Jiang Yanli has to try to mitigate this, too. She also makes a few suggestions about ways A-Lei could communicate without speaking — pointing to pictures, perhaps? Hand gestures? Pantomime isn't very dignified, but they ought to let A-Lei express herself…

He Lei runs away from any such suggestions. She's not willing to 'speak' when Jin Guangyao doesn't want her to and jeopardize her siblings.

Jiang Yanli is disappointed, but respects her shyness.

(Nie Huaisang is not going to respect her shyness, especially when he's mostly sure he's seen her among Jinlintai's servants some time before her official appearance, but for the moment he's biding his time.)

He Lei goes to extreme lengths to avoid Jin Guangshan.

Meanwhile Xue Yang hears that Wen Qing is going to see if she can do anything for Wen Ning's sense of taste, next, and "helps" by providing a half-dozen fresh tongues for her to dissect.

(Wei Wuxian's internal monologue: —just mathematically there have to be at least a few resentful ghosts who have it out for Jin Guangshan with sex-related grievances. Now if you could both locate them, and then use their motivation to direct enough other ghosts to overcome Jin Guangshan's level of cultivation… Well, I could, if I had Chenqing and the Seal. Not sure how you'd package it as a curse— Not that I'm trying to package it as a curse this is idle speculation!)

#jgy's hoarding problem tellfic #more random mdzs thoughts

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wreckofawriter · 5 years ago

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The Girl Next Door And The Five Times She Stopped Time

Pairing: James Potter x muggle!reader

Word Count: 3,433

Warnings: Swearing?, None fluffy

Summary: James slowly begins to fall in love with the girl next door

A/n: Sorry I havent posted in a while, this isn't really edited so ignore my mistakes, anyway, hope you guys like it!

James Potter can remember when he first met her. Her y/h/c hair was cut into a bob that ended just above her shoulders. Her deep y/e/c eyes were shining in ways that would make stars envious. She was wearing a soft blue dress that fell just beneath her knees, feet bare.

She leapt out of the back seat of an old Subaru and stood in the dewy morning grass outside of your house. That was the first time he felt time stop

Your eyes seemed to trace over every inch of your new home in slow motion everything else around you fading into white. As James drunk in your appearance.

Time resumed when you set into a sprint and darted up the porch, steps two at a time running through the front door and out of the curious boys view.

James was 10 years old at the time, you 9 but he could still feel his heart race watching you from his own yard. At the time he was sure that it was because of cooties. You were making him get sweaty and his stomach feel funny simply because you had infected him with your contagious disease.

So when his parents had a welcoming dinner for their new neighbors, he completely avoided you, only going near you when absolutely necessary.

You hadn't seemed to notice or if you did you didn't let it bother you in the slightest, you simply shrugged it off and opened some muggle book called 'The Hobbit'.

It wasn't until your family was totally set up when James realized something. He could see directly into your new room.

You had repainted the walls a joyful blue and covered them with colorful posters from muggle cartoons and books. You had purple curtains but they were knotted on either side of the two windows that now faced the young boy.

So he couldn't help it as he watched your small frame move around the room organizing nick-nacks or sit on your bed and read.

Quickly he began to feel sick again and promptly closed his curtains decided that you could catch cooties by simply watching a girl too.

By the time he was 11 he no longer agnollaged cooties as a factual illness so when he met Lily Evan's and he felt his heart speed up and his palms get sweaty he realised that he simply liked her.

But still something sat in the back of the boys mind when he glanced out the window of his dormitory hoping that there would be two rectangles of warm yellow light leering back at him to reveal a little girl perched on her bed a book that was much to thick for her age sitting open in her hand as she smiled softly at the pages.

Everytime James came home the room he gazed into changed, the desk would be in a different spot, or maybe the bed. There would almost always be a new poster on the walls the cartoons slowly dispersing and getting replaced with posters of bands or pictures of friends and family. But the one thing that always seemed to change the most every year was the girl who sat on the bed and read her books. But no matter how much she changed he would always feel that sickening feeling in his gut when he looked at her and he could feel his palms grow sweaty as he thought of you.

You had just gotten back from a partially damaging party. Your best friend had decided to lock lips with the boy you had been crushing on since the sixth grade. You prided yourself on your ability to keep emotions at bay so when you finally reached the safety and security of your bedroom you let your tears flow freely. Unaware if the pair of dark eyes watching you from next door.

When James saw tears spring from your eyes he felt sadness and fury take him. The simple idea of you being upset made him so himself. And there you were sitting on your bed tears sliding slowly down your cheeks. And once again time stopped seeming to slow down before coming to a halt as he watched your tears leave slow shimmering tracks down your y/s/c checks.

James had wanted nothing more than to go to you, comfort you. But there were too many things that kept him from doing so. The fact that you hadn't spoken in four years being the main one. Also the fact that he had been borderline stalking you for the past few years would be revealed. So he couldn't go to you which made him utterly disappointed.

That is when James realize that something was up. He didn't just see you as the muggle girl who lived next door but he was confused. The image of Lily seemed to flash in his head but he still stared across at you wishing he could help. Because he felt something different with you. But what was it?

A year later James had finally figured it out.

You had been in a partially happy mood. Your parents were out of town for the night and your older brother was at his girlfriend's which meant you had the house all to yourself. So you did the one reasonable thing to do when your home alone. You stole your brothers speakers and blasted music so loud you could hear your eardrums thumping dully in your head.

Fifth year had been one of the more difficult for James, tests had gotten much more difficult, his best friend had gone through hell and back with his parents and his whole love life seemed to flip completely upside down.

Lily had grown more and more unimportant as the year went on. Like over the summer he had simply fallen out of love with her, which was half true but the whole truth was that he had fallen in love with you.

He couldn't keep you from his mind. He missed you even though he barely knew you, he found himself glance out his window every day in a slim hope that you had somehow temported to the Hogwarts grounds and was now reading some 1,000 page horror book in the grass below.

Yet somehow he had managed to convince himself that he was still in love with Lily. He contorted his mind building walls between memories, blocking certain ones off. All of it was completely exhausting.

So when he and Sirius ascended to his bedroom after getting home he wanted to do nothing but plop onto his bed and pass out and that was what he was doing until he heard Sirius emit a low whistle.

"What?" James groaned pulling himself from his bed to see his friend smirking deviously out his window.

"You never told me you lived next to that." Sirius gawked biting his lip.

James turned and felt his soul leave his body. Over the year you had, well matured.

You had gone from looking like a 13 year old to looking like a 16 year old.

You had grown at least 2 inches, your hair was now y/h/l and you had well, gotten much curvier.

In a sense puberty had hit you like a 16 wheeler and now you were wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and a pair of lacy magenta underwear.

James mouth hit the floor as you pranced around your room using a hairbrush as a microphone. He could hear the dull thump of the bass from Rocketman coursing through your speakers. And once again time slowed to a stop as he watched as you flipped your y/h/c hair over your head in slow motion, leaping from your bed to in front of the mirror. Everything around you fade before suddenly snapping back to reality when Sirius let out a laugh.

You were singing the words, James only wished he could hear you. You pointed at the mirror and closed your eyes swing your hips as your lips split into a brilliantly wide grin

Sirius turned to James The poor boy's mouth hung agape his eyes the size of a snitch.

"Looks like you didn't know either." He chuckled.

"S-she looks s-so dif-different." The dark haired boy stuttered, his infatuation causing him to stumble over words.

"Clearly, she bloody hot." Sirius smirked watching you jump to your bed raising your hands above your head enjoying the view of the small lacy undergarment the action exposed.

"She's incredible." James breathed out dreamily snapping the other boys attention back to him.

"Woah, woah, woah. She's not the reason you suddenly lost interest in Lily is she?"

James flushed, his dark eyes flicking quickly to his friend before retreating back to your moving form. "No." He lied.

"Oh Merlin." Sirus groaned smacking his forehead, "Just when I thought you were going to stop acting like a love sick puppy here you are again in love with another girl you barely know."

"I'm not in love with her." James scoffed

"Sure. Sure." Sirius mumbled picking at his fingernails. "Quick question, what's her favourite color?"

"Y/f/c." James answered without hesitation.

"What about her favorite book?"

"Probably y/f/b." He paused for a second his eyes still trained on you, now dancing along to Bennie and the Jets. "Or y/sf/b."

"And her favourite band?" Sirius asked in an almost disappointed tone.

"Definitely Queen, although Led Zeppelin is probably a close second. Why are you asking me this?" James asked prying his eyes from you to land on his extremely exhausted looking friend.

Sirius just shot him a knowing glance both his eyebrows raised. Realization quickly dawned over James face.

"Oh no." He groaned, letting his head fall to his mattress. "I am in love with her."

"Bingo." Sirus spoke a pitying smile grazing his lips.

James just moaned sourly into his blanket. "I didn't even know I knew that shit."

"Let's go to bed man." Sirius sighed closing James curtains blocking you out.

As much as James wished to wipe you from his mind he couldn't help but feel disappointed as you disappeared from view.

For the rest of the summer Sirius made it his mission to reconnect you and James, as if you were ever really connected. Either way he made sure to make James as obvious as possible to you.

He introduced himself to you and made friends quickly. He was sure to have you come over as often as possible.

The first time this happened James damn near shit himself when you walked through the door wearing a bikini as he was getting ready for the trip he and Sirius had planned.

"Hey James" you smiled meekly, waving a bit.

"H-hey." He smiled back before shooting Sirius a glare.

"Y/n is going to come swimming with us remember I told you about it last night." Sirius smirked winking slyly.

"O-oh yeah of course."

Many other awkward interactions were induced by Sirius, including both of you getting locked "accidentally" into a closet together, you falling asleep on James shoulder, James and you falling on top of eachother and Sirius' personal favorite of yelling at the top of his lungs while James was changing and your window was open, causing you to look over and see James with nothing but boxers on red faced and angry as Sirius scrambled out of the room. (You would be lying if you didn't enjoy that one little bit.)

But just as Sirius was sure he was going to be the next matchmaker the two older boys had to leave, much to both of their dismay.

The whole year James could do nothing to keep you from his mind. The way you smiled stuck in his brain like glue, your laugh cemented to his skull. You were all he could think of so when he came back for summer after his sixth year he had never been more ecstatic.

James dashed up his stairs hoping that he might catch just a glimpse of you through his window.

And he did. He saw you laying on your bed, a laugh escaping a wide smile that was carved into your face. Your eyes were shining brightly, your y/h/c hair splayed across you pillow.

This broke James. It made him fall to pieces, heart filling with grief. Because the laugh wasn't because of him, the smile wasn't for him and the shine in your eyes wasn't directed at him.

He watched in agony as the red headed boy who leaned over you connected his lips to yours gracefully. The moment he wished more than anything could seemed to slow as if the universe was mocking him, showing him a nightmare that seemed to never end. Time had once again stopped as you wrapped your delicate hands around the boys neck and pulled him closer to you. He watched in pain as the girl he loved kissed another man.

Sirius had come up the stairs now and instantly saw the scene taking place behind the opposite window. He cursed under his breath quickly closing the curtains and turning to face his heart broken best friend.

James looked defeated, his mouth slightly agape, his eyes downcast and filled with sorrow. He blinked a few times before turning around and walking straight out of the room.

"Shit." Sirius mumbled knowing this wasn't going to end well, "James!" He called running down the stairs to find him reaching for the door handle. "What are you doing?" The long haired boy questioned.

"I have to stop her." James said turning to his best friend, a new look of determination etched onto his strong features.

"For doing what?" Sirius pointed out angrily.

"From kissing some freckled bastard that's what!" James shouted anger filling his dark eyes.

"You can't!" Sirius shot back harshly.

"Why in bloody hell not?!" James yelled taking two steps towards his friend but Sirius stood his ground.

"BECAUSE SHES NOT YOURS!" Sirius bellowed angry at his friend for being so blinded by love.

James eyes flickered with doubt before his entire face collapsed with it. Determination flipping to guilt then to misery as he realized what was really happening.

"I'm sorry man, you can't stop her from doing anything." Sirius sighed disappointment readable in his own voice.

Summer was suddenly a bleak occasion for James. Now that y/n had a boyfriend he had to become more and more accustomed to the presence of the "freaked bastard" who he soon found out was Austin Bostian. Austin was a muggle that went to the same school as y/n. Not that James cared. All he cared about was the fact that Austin got to kiss y/n and hold her and touch her.

James and y/n drifted away from each other slowly and painful over the vacation and to James it felt like his heart was slowly being torn in two. But seeing Austin with her made him dizzy and upset, he just couldn't bear being around her.

So when school finally rolled back around he felt a sense of relief filled him. Of course the image of you still burned bright in his memory he just did his best to bury it deep within the pictures of you and Austin locking lips or holding hands. It almost made it easier.

The school year was a strange one for James. He forced himself onto Lily more than ever, when truth was he didn't even want to go anywhere with her. Sirius of course knew he was really simply distracting himself, but he couldn't help but feel bad for Lily who actually seemed more into it than before.

Sirius' suspicions were confirmed when Lily finally answered yes to James catching everyone by surprise, especially the quidditch star.

James had then fled the scene only to return a few moments later and attempt to explain himself. Which of course failed miserably and a shit storm hit him in a wave. Most of the Gryffindor girls wouldn't even look at him anymore, claiming he was a monster who shouldn't lead on someone like that. Which of course he did. James had felt like shit and just wanted to go home the entire time. But the idea of seeing you and Austin again crushed the poor boy. So he played quidditch and a lot of it.

When he graduated it was bitter sweet. He wasn't sure what he was feeling anymore but he knew that he wanted to see you at least one last time. He needed to confess.

Now as he stood in front of your door he felt the familiar feeling of nervousness and embarrassment flush over him. He ignored the fluttering in his stomach and squeezed his eyes shut briefly before knocking twice on the door.

He heard the patter of feet followed by a muffled "I'm coming" before the door swung open to reveal you. Your hair was stuck up into a terribly messy bun, strands of hair hanging in front of your face. You had on a pair of athletic shorts and a Atari crop top that you had clearly cut yourself.

"Hey James." You smiled up at him either not noticing or caring that his cheeks were flaming red.

"Uh hey y/n." He answered suddenly realizing he had zero plan whatsoever. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Of course." You answered inviting him inside. You ead him upstairs to your room. Once inside Jmaes realized that after all these years if staring into your room he had never been inside it. It was decently clean a few items of clothing scattered across the ground here and there.

"Sorry for the mess." You muttered plopping onto your bed. "So what's up?"

James felt his throat close up. His hands suddenly felt extensively sweaty and he thought he might throw up.

"Well umm.." he took in a deep breath closing his eyes before snapping them open to meet your curious y/e/c ones. "I'm in love with you."

The room fell deathly silent, the faint hum of cicadas drumming outside.

Your eyes went wide mouth falling slightly open. "Y-you love me?" Your voice uncharacteristically high.

"Yeah." James mumbled quietly, "And I know that your with Austin and everything but I just, I can't leave without telling you."

You let out a small giggle, which in other circumstances would have made his heart soar but now he felt it sink into the floor. You were laughing at him.

"I'm not with Austin dumbass." You scoffed rolling your eyes.

That was much better than what James was expecting, "R-really?" He asked tripping over this words.

"Yeah. I broke up with him like a week after you left for school." You rolled your eyes playfully.

"Oh." James voice hopefully, "That's good." His eyes widened, "Not like good that you had to break up with him, just you know good that I didn't-"

You cut off his ramblings by grabbing his shirt and pulling him onto you. You smashed your lips onto his tasting mint. James quickly melted into the kiss placing his arms on either side of you to keep from toppling onto you as you grabbed his neck and forced your tongue into his mouth.

And for the fifth time in his life he felt time stop. Your soft yet rough touch making everything but you disappear. He could only feel you pressed hot against his skin, lips moving slowly against his own.

The spell you put him under broke when you pulled away gasping for air. "You're an idiot you know." You smiled, hands playing with his dark locks.

James shot you a confused look.

"I've been in love with you since you ignored me at the welcoming dinner your family threw." You explained. Causing the boys eyes to widen.

"Really?" He asked in disbelief.

You scoffed. "You are terribly blind. And you suck at flirting, I thought you hated me."

"What?" James asked confused.

"Well, I mean you ignored me and always got all weird around me. I thought you hated me."

"Oh." James cringed, suddenly realizing how his strange actions must have looked from your prospective.

You giggled, a heavenly sound before pulling the boy back down to meet your lips.

From across the street Sirius smiled widely watching his best friend.

"That girl seriously needs to close her curtains." He muttered still grinning as he turned away from the new couple.

@accio-rogers

Masterlist

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bts-story · 5 years ago

Note

could you make a jungkook one shot of him and y/n have been dating for years, but jk was very clueless that yn dances because she keeps making up excuses or lies that she doesn't know how to dance due to shyness until he caught her cooly dancing (to one of their choreos or contributing dance steps to their choreographer) in their practice room while bts were supposed to be having a break in their lobby or something ☺️

Lies, Lies, Lies — Jungkook

As Immanuel Kant puts it, “Lying is always morally wrong”.

He argued that all persons are born with an "intrinsic worth" that he called human dignity. This dignity derives from the fact that humans are uniquely rational agents, capable of freely making their own decisions, setting their own goals, and guiding their conduct by reason. To be human, said Kant, is to have the rational power of free choice; to be ethical, he continued, is to respect that power in oneself and others.

Lies are morally wrong, then, for two reasons. First, lying corrupts the most important quality of my being human: my ability to make free, rational choices. Each lie I tell contradicts the part of me that gives me moral worth. Second, my lies rob others of their freedom to choose rationally. When my lie leads people to decide other than they would had they known the truth, I have harmed their human dignity and autonomy. Kant believed that to value ourselves and others as ends instead of means, we have perfect duties no exceptions) to avoid damaging, interfering with, or misusing the ability to make free decisions; in other words - no lying.

But this, is not a philosophy class. Actually, she never even had really good grades in highschool and anything in connection with Aristotle or Nietzsche always had her head to hurt more than necessary. So what Immanuel Kant says about lying isn’t really important. What does a dead man still have to say on the matter?

Moreover, this lie won’t ever interfere with the wild laws of the universe like the wings of a butterfly which might cause an earthquake on the other side of the world. Life isn’t a theory, life is not a question to find answers to. There’s only living and death. And making up a couple of lies along the way can’t possibly affect the cause or the good will of the universe.

“No, no, I don’t dance, go ahead, I’ll watch you,” she had said the first time around. When the music loud of the nightclub was literally causing the walls to shake. She had a cocktail drink in her right hand, and Jungkook’s hand on the other, the latter begging her to join him on the dance floor.

“Come on, I wanna dance with you,” he argued, pouting his lips in the cutest way possible. It’s a grimace, more than anything else, but usually it’s hard to resist. But she does, she shakes her head, shoos him away and Jungkook found himself coming back a while later with two new drinks in his hand for he refused to dance with anyone who wasn’t his girlfriend.

It shouldn’t have been more than that. Just a small lie slid in the middle of the conversation. It had been only three weeks since they dated, and she wasn’t comfortable enough yet to dance in front of a rising superstar. However, she got caught up.

Caught up in her own lie. What’s the deal in telling the truth at some point, but to deceive the person learning they were fooled all along? So, she stayed put. Avoiding, dodging, escaping anytime someone just as mentioned dancing.

Because the truth is, she candance. Well, she can handle herself. She manages to align a few moves after another. It’s not exactly perfect or completely fluid, but she knows she’s alright. The dance classes she took back when she was a teenager stuck with her for many years.

“You’re so drunk,” Jungkook had said another time, a few days before their first-year anniversary. They were at some friends’ house, loud music and a little too much booze to walk straight. But she was there, dancing. Though, completely off-beat, singing off-key. Her hands came to reach above her head, hips swaying left to right but nothing graceful about it.

“You’re so drunk,” she responded with a giggle, frowning her eyebrows and the mix made Jungkook smile. Still, she tripped over her own feet, almost falling until Jungkook’s hand came to circle around her hips, steadying her. Her heels crashed hard on the floor, dress flying around delicately and even drunk, even with dilated pupils and dancing like a wild octopus, Jungkook thought about how much he loved that girl.

Nevertheless, lying is always morally wrong.

So why can’t she admit the truth? It’s not like she kissed another guy or made up excuses to hide the fact that she has a twin sister or anything quite big like this. She can dance. That’s all.

There was this one time, when Jungkook too, found himself stuttering and tripping on his own words because he had brought those very expensive pair of earrings for her birthday and the boy can’t possibly lie. He’d tell anyone about how his cheeks turns red instantly, or how hot he’s feeling when even the weather was too cool to confront. But it was for a good cause. A good cause he admitted just after the bewildered look on her faded away and the earrings cupping her face made her look chic and sophisticated.

“Did you ever lie to me?” she dared to ask, one day. When she could hear Jungkook’s heart pumping hard against his ribcage, his hands in her hair and fingertips brushing ever so lightly against the nape of her naked thigh.

Jungkook thought for a moment, lips parting open in question and frowned brows as he asked himself where did this question come from. “No,” he simply answered, brushing his lips against the top of her head, “Well, apart from that time I said I had rehearsal just so I could buy you the earrings.”

It made her stomach twirl. Not in a good way. It made her skin hotter and goose-bumps to run along her skin. She nudged further in Jungkook’s embrace and they never spoke about anything concerning lies ever again.

At this point in life, Kant would probably try to rationalize his subject. Try to instruct the laws of ethics and brag about how much relief one can feel when the truth is finally out in the open. When the lies had been lifted and all the confusion and frights have gone away. Kant would suggest how disappointed the person lied to must be feeling, about their forgotten dignity.

But the loud music coming from the dance studio had Jungkook’s head to tilt to the side, wondering if the dance teacher forgot to turn it down when they exited the room just moments before. He can recognise the upbeat melody of their latest hit, the next comeback due in less than three weeks.

When Jungkook creeped behind the door, he was sure his eyes were deceiving him. There, in the middle of studio, his own girlfriend. Dancing, twirling, swaying hips. Arms, legs, pelvis and head following all directions. It’s graceful, fluid and Jungkook wonders how come he has never been aware that his girlfriend candance.

She’s concentrated, looking in the mirror and she’s totally and absolutely unaware of the intruder. Jungkook leans against the wall, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips because, she knows the routine of this dance most perfectly. Well, until she stops.

Until she can’t remember what comes after the swing of the left leg and the half-turn to the right. She exhales, Jungkook can see in the mirror though he can’t hear over the loud music. But then, their eyes meet.

In the reflection of the large mirror covering the wall, two pair of eyes cross eachother and suddenly time stop. “You can dance.”

A soft chuckle escapes her lips, but it sounded more like a nervous giggle. The music stops, and suddenly, she finds herself at a loss for words. She doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what to do and for a moment, she’s afraid Jungkook might get angry at her for lying for so many years.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She scratched the back of her head, trying to gain her breath again. But she shrugged her shoulders, unable to support Jungkook’s gaze when she turned around to face him.

Lies are vile and evil, Kant would say. He would picture a situation just like this one, when the lied to finds out the truth and the liar is unable to find a proper explanation. Because there is no good explanation. There is only confusion and proper betrayal. At the moment the truth bursts out, something breaks. Trust becomes a long-forgotten memory. It becomes hard for the person lied to, to trust the liar ever again because, if they lied one time, what refrains them to lie again?

Lies are vile and evil, Kant would say. And he’d be right. No matter the importance of the lie, big ones, littles ones, important or unimportant. Lies are lies, and nothing or no one can change the fact that lying is always morally wrong.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

There is no explanation but a bad one.

But Jungkook has a heart of gold. Probably made by the good Gods up above. Because Jungkook couldn’t give a damn about what Kant has to say on the matter. He understands.

Jungkook understands compassion and scare, he understands the confusion about admitting something about yourself. He understands honesty and loyalty. But more importantly, he understands empathy.

Empathy is the capacity to understand or feel what another person is experiencing from within their frame or reference. That is, the capacity to place oneself in another’s position. And ever since a young age, Jungkook had learn the quirks and cons of being empathetic.

But now, right about now, he thanks the heavens for blessing him with such aptitude.

He isn’t mad, far from that. Actually, Jungkook is glad. He is glad because it means now, that he has a partner he can dance with. It’s all he ever wanted, to share something he loves with the person he loves.

Kant says lying is always morally wrong. It might be true.

But what’s truer, is empathy will always rule over.

—————

Did I turn into a freaking philosopher over night?

- Nageoire

#bts scenario #jungkook scenario #jeongguk scenario #jungkook #jeongguk #bts #one shot #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeongguk imagine

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themangoyogurt · 4 years ago

Text

Misguided Youth: The Air Clears

Chapter Five

“Ow! Let go!” You shouted as Kylo continued to drag you down a hallway. So focused on the fact that you were being manhandled by the brooding man, you were completely unaware of how many twists and turns he had pulled you through. How big was this fucking Willy Wonka factory of a home anyways?

“I said, let go you fucking psycho!” You cried as you shook your arm out of his grip. Somehow he had corralled you into a study, and despite your agitation and confusion, you couldn’t help the first response to spill out of your mouth.

“You actually read?”

Kylo spun around and slammed the door shut. Still facing away from you, he had one hand flat against the door, while the other laid balled up at his hip. You could tell that his chest was heaving up and down, and instinctively stepped away until the back of your thighs hit a sturdy oak desk. Looking around in silence, you took notice of the floor to ceiling bookcases filled to the brim with books and journals.

Judging by the worn through covers, it became clear that this was a functional office and you were immediately hit with a pang of guilt. Sure, Kylo might be a rockstar who ran around chasing tail while destroying public property, but that shouldn’t imply that he was stupid. There was more depth to the mysterious man, and you reluctantly admitted that you might have judged him too quickly.

But then he had to go and open his mouth and make you hate him all over again.

“Yes, of course I fucking read. I’m glad to see that Brooklyn’s finest waitress has deduction skills.”

“Excuse me? You know what, fuck you. Fuck you and your judgmental pompous attitude. Where’s my friend. I’m leaving right now.”

Kylo turned around, but stubbornly refused to meet your icy stare. Your eyes slowly narrowed into slits as you took in his expression. Was that...guilt? Stepping forward, you cautiously ventured, “Kylo. Where’s my friend?”

He ran a large palm through his locks and replied, “There wasn’t exactly a friend looking for you...per se...”

“Then why did you drag me away from Poe?”

Kylo finally met your glare with one of his own. “I was doing you a favor, you know. Poe would never actually be interested in someone like you. He’s a total player who...”

Your jaw dropped in incredulous anger. “What? You have no right to dictate who I can or cannot talk to! Who the hell do you think you are? Besides, who said that I was interested in him?”

“Fine! Go back to Poe or your friend Jim then. See if I care who you waste your time with. I hope you and Jim had fun fucking around in my house drinking up my booze.”

Without missing a beat, you threw both arms out in exasperation as you shrieked, “WHO THE FUCK IS JIM?”

Kylo’s brow furrowed as he took in your genuinely confused expression. Stepping back a little, he stuttered, “I thought...I thought you were here with a guy named Jim. Phasma...”

Throwing a palm up to your face, you tightly pinched the bridge of your nose as you hissed, “Oh my God, you are such an idiot. My friend’s name is Jyn. Ji-nuh. And I can assure you that while we have indeed been drinking up your expensive booze, I’m not dating her.”

A realization suddenly dawned on you as a coy smile slid across your features. Slowly, you began to advance towards the man - all fear and concern lost. Now standing close enough to touch, you tilted you head upwards and teasingly asked, “Why would it matter to you who I date? So what if I liked Poe? Or if I had a boyfriend name Jim? Or even if I was together with Jyn?”

Kylo turned his head to avoid your shit eating grin and muttered, “I don’t care. Get over yourself.”

“Sure, sure. Because it’s totally normally to go dragging people away from potential love interests, right?”

Shuffling forward so the tips of your toes were gently nudging his feet, you carefully swept his bangs out of his face. Moving your hand downwards, you barely grazed his cheek as your fingers rested against his chin. From this distance, you could feel his breath stutter while your nimble fingers danced down the column of his neck to rest at his sternum.

“Are you jealous, Kylo?”

Kylo reached up to grip your wrist in his palm as he pushed your hand away from his chest. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He still couldn’t look you in the eye though, and that only made you smirk.

Tugging your wrist out of his grip, you moved to brush past the man as you sauntered towards the door. Pausing just before exiting you turned to murmur, “You’re right. I don’t know what I’m talking about. But I don’t think you do either.”

With one last gaze, you stepped out into the hallway and the door loudly shut behind you. Kylo remained rooted on the spot as he stared into the space you once occupied.

The rest of the party went by in relative ease. You caught back up with Jyn, and immediately gave her an earful about ditching you. Afterwards, you found your way to Phasma’s side, and the blonde drummer insisted on clearing the air. She had only meant innocent fun when keeping you in the dark about who she was, and hadn’t meant to offend you. There was nothing to apologize for though, and you admitted to being too quick to anger. The two of you enjoyed a shot of liquor together - promising to continue exploring your budding friendship.

By the time you ran into Kylo again, you were well and truly wasted. Stumbling out onto this balcony, you tilted your chin up to take lungfuls of the crisp autumn air. The moonlight gently cascaded against your features, creating a halo behind your profile as you closed your eyes to bask in the peace. The sound of shuffling caught your attention, and you opened your eyes just in time to catch Kylo attempting to slink back into his home undetected.

“Is the big bad rockstar suddenly shy? No mean retorts left?”

He stopped in his tracks and slowly turned to face you. “Mean?”

Crossing your arms in anger you seethed, “Yeah. You’re a bully.” Kylo gave a dry laugh and crossed the balcony to stand next to you. “What, are we in middle school? I have no interest in ‘bullying’ a waitress. I’m a fucking millionaire with shit to do.”

Turning to jab a finger into his chest, you spat, “See! There you go again. Do you even know that I’m in grad school? All you’ve done since we met is talk down to me, when you don’t even know the basics of who I am. You don’t know anything about what I’ve been through.”

Too drunk to care about how you looked, your jaw quivered as you continued, “Do you think I like waitressing? Do you think I enjoy wearing a fucking costume at work literally doing a song and dance just so I can get shitty tips from haughty hipsters like yourself? Some of us don’t have a support network, and I’m doing everything I can just to stay afloat in this city without losing my goddamn mind. So I’m sorry if I’ve been too busy juggling a budding career as a 50’s impersonator along with an impossible workload to not have known who the fuck you were when we first met.”

Turning on your heel with a huff, you were stopped when Kylo reached out to grab your hand. Slowly tugging you back towards him, he quietly whispered, “It’s...it’s not like that. I don’t look down on you, and I don’t care that you’re a waitress. I’m a shitty person, okay? I don’t make friends easily, and every fucking time you open you snarky mouth I’m put off my game. Everyone acts like I’m a character in a movie, and you’re the first person to treat me like I’m a real person. I guess I wasn’t ready for that.”

He let go of your hand to turn so he could lean against the balcony. Carefully stepping up to his side, you mimicked Kylo’s posture by resting your arms against the cool metal bar as well. Soft wind swept through the air, picking up strands of your hair to dance against his arm. Playfully nudging his shoulder, you asked, “So...should we start over and try and be friends then?”

Kylo laughed and turned to meet your eyes. For the first time that night, your gazes were amiable. Nodding, he gently replied, “Yeah. Friends.”

You leaned a head against his shoulder and murmured, “But I can’t promise that I’ll stop the teasing. You make it way too easy for me.” He let out an honest chuckle as he returned to staring out into the night sky.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren #misguided youth #modern au

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music-my-angel · 4 years ago

Text

All these years of abuse

Prompt - hi, please can you do a teen wolf rpf where Dylan Sprayberry is abused (also can u make it clear that he’s like 6-10 years younger than everyone else? X

Prompt - Teen wolf fanfic about Liam or Dylan S being abused or cutting or anorexic or just something angsty that ends with Scott and Stiles comforting him and fluff!! Thank you!! <3

TW - Verbal and physical abuse

------

It felt like a dream come true when Dylan step foot on The Teen Wolf set. He had been so nervous to work with the cast but once he met them, Dylan had been surprised by how welcoming they all were. Dylan, who usually was very skeptical about new people, had surprisingly gotten along with almost everyone on sets. He was still apprehensive and probably, the entire cast had noticed it and maybe that’s why, they were trying their best to coax the boy out of his shell. Little did they know the boy wasn’t shy, he was afraid!

------

No matter how scared Dylan was of people in general, he just couldn’t disagree about how nice the cast were to him. He had become good friends with Tyler Posey and Dylan O’Brien. He absolutely adored Tyler Hoechlin. The girls were kind to him too. He liked the crew. He liked the show. He liked the character that he was playing. It was so like him.

Well, not the werewolf thing but the fact that his character Liam had a step dad. Except that in real life, Dylan’s step dad was far worse. In short, his step father was abusive and Dylan couldn’t do anything about it. His mum had found love again and Lil Dylan was happy for his mum, happy enough to put up with years of abuse if it meant that his mum was happy.

Not even his mum noticed the scar of the abuse that Dylan went through.

------

The physical and verbal abuse that he suffered in the hands of his step father was the main reason why Lil Dylan hesitated with meeting new people. His entire cast thought he was just a shy boy until they started noticing the scars.

Often the makeup artist would be frowning at scars that Dylan had badly tried to cover.

“How did you get these scars, Dylan?” the makeup artist asked.

“I don’t have scars” Dylan O’Brien answered, confused.

“Oh, I was speaking to the little one” the makeup artist said.

The older Dylan turned to the younger one, frowning, when the little one flashed him a nervous smile, mumbling something about injuries he got while playing football with his friends.

------

It turns out that different people got different versions of the story of scars that Lil Dylan sported. He told Posey that it was injuries he got from slipping in the bathroom while Hoechlin was told that he got those injuries during shoot. What Lil Dylan didn’t know was that his costars had talked to each other about it and were keeping an eye on the younger one.

That’s exactly why, all of a sudden, Tyler Hoechlin had offered to drop him home after shoot. Dylan O’Brien and Tyler Posey had jumped in the car too, claiming that they needed a ride. The younger Dylan sat nervously as he pondered over an action plan to get inside his house without the boys suspecting anything, unaware that they were already suspicious.

------

“Bye guys” Lil Dylan shouted as he hopped down the car, trying to hurry inside his house before they could ask him anything.

“Aren’t you going to call us inside?” the older Dylan asked, curiously.

“Uh… My mum isn’t home. Actually no one’s home and it’s a complete mess…” the boy mumbled before hearing an angry yell of his name, “I gotta go.” He whispered, praying that the boys hadn’t heard anything.

Hoechlin nodded, driving away and letting Lil Dylan think that the coast was clear.

------

As soon as he opened the door, the young boy was met by an angry shouting step dad.

“Where’s the money? You said you got a role in some TV show?” the drunk guy asked.

“I don’t have money. Where’s mum?” Dylan asked.

“Your mum’s off to work as usual” the man said before grabbing Dylan by the collar as he shoved him in the wall, “I asked where the money is, kid?”

“I suggest you leave him” Tyler Posey’s voice suddenly came through.

“Who are you? Another one of this stupid kid’s friend?” the man snorted.

“Leave him” Dylan O’Brien echoed.

“What if I don’t?” the man retorted back, drawing a fist to punch the younger boy but it never came.

Instead Tyler Hoechlin was there with a punch straight to the man’s jaws.

------

They called the cops and what Lil Dylan had always feared, finally happened. His mum was totally heartbroken.

“I’m sorry mum. I wouldn’t have called the cops” Lil Dylan whispered.

Dylan O’Brien looked ready to scold the boy when Tyler Posey shook his head.

Lil Dylan’s mum was heartbroken but not because the man she loved turned out wrong but because she never knew how much her boy had to put up with.

“Oh kiddo. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I never stood up for you” his mum cried, pulling her boy in a hug.

She had to step aside to speak to the officers for some time and was grateful when the boy’s costars stepped in to comfort her boy.

Lil Dylan’s mum took a look at her boy who was currently tucked in Posey’s side with O’Brien and Hoechlin trying to get a laugh from the boy and decided that she had to make amend to her boy and she was going to start by throwing the step dad out of the picture.

------

It wasn’t easy for the younger Dylan to move on from all those years of abuse but he knew he could count on his costars to watch his back now. The entire cast had learnt about what had happened to Dylan and went out of their way to make the boy comfortable. Hoechlin was even more protective now while O’Brien cared nothing more than to make the boy smile again. And Posey had become his best ever friend. With their help, he knew that he’d overcome anything.

------

A/N

Hope you all like it.

#teen wolf #oneshot #dylan sprayberry centric #dylan o'brien #tyler hoechlin #tyler posey

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drunk-and-howling · 5 years ago

Text

Strike Swiftly || Layla & Salva

TIMING: 2-3 days ago PARTIES: @laylacooke, @drunk-and-howling SUMMARY: Layla bears her heart and pleads for help, and Salva vows to protect her. A heartwarming friendship ensues. CONTENT WARNINGS: Light blood/injury

It was two days before the full moon, and Salva was feeling eerily calm, like the heavy clouds before a storm. He prowled down the sidewalk, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his Zippo and a cigarette, as his mind considered what was going to happen in 48 hours… he'd have to make some preparations around the house to wolf-proof everything, but he had some time. Salva was lost in thought as he came up on that vegan restaurant, unaware of anyone leaving.

Layla had dropped into her favorite spot for a bite of lunch. After Ari had taken her there on the very first day they had met, the good memories and good food seemed to draw her back for more. However, as she walked out of the small cafe with her veggie burrito in hand, the redhead ran directly into a man walking near the door. Burrito hitting the ground, and Layla feeling slightly embarrassed, she quickly looked up to apologize, until she had recognized the man’s face from online, “Dude, you made me drop my burrito.” With a small pout, she bent down and picked it up, grateful it or hadn’t completely spilled out of the container it was wrapped in. She could still salvage it.

Suddenly, his route was interrupted by someone exiting the establishment (go figure that someone was leaving right as he passed). Salva started to growl something ill-tempered at her when her scent hit him like a brick wall, and his grumpy snarl subsided into animal curiosity. "Oh, sorry," he said absently, watching as she bent to pick up her food - why did this girl smell (and look) so familiar? Salva's head tilted slightly, and he leaned further toward her as she straightened, giving her another deep sniff. "... Do I know you?"

Once Layla was upright and her food was tucked safely in her grip, she let her attention focus back on Salva. She had ignored the growl, but it did alert her to the fact that he was like her, well that and a very strong and familiar scent that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. With narrowed eyes, she looked back up at him, “It’s cool, and I…don’t think so. But you totes have one of those faces.” Realizing where she had seen him, she paused for a moment, “Now, I know why you look familiar. I’ve seen your picture online. You’re that old creepy dude who acted like a total douche when I tried to warn you about the mimes.”

Her manner made Salva instantly regret spending one of his rare apologies on her. She was definitely a wolf, that much was already certain, and he supposed he was a fool for assuming she'd be meek and apologetic like some of the other wolves around town. The older werewolf raised an eyebrow at her, and he paused to take a long drag from his cigarette. "I see that my reputation precedes me," Salva answered in a deadpan tone, hardly amused at her insults but altogether numb to them. "Where do you come from? Parents?" This can't be her….

“Ah, there it is.” For some reason, she wasn’t afraid of him. It was quite the opposite. Most of the other wolves she had encountered, she was intimidated by, especially Ulfric, but Salva was different. He just kind of pissed her off, and she couldn’t quite figure out why. “You know those things will kill you right?” She motioned to the cigarette, “But why am I even telling you this.” Why did he want to know where she was from or who her parents were? Did he know something or was he sent to...Wait. Layla sniffed the air again. She knew that scent. It had been repressed, aside from catching wind of it on herself. But it couldn’t be him. She didn’t even see his face, “Why do you want to know where I’m from? That’s a little weird…”

That was it… what he was looking for. A flash of recognition in Layla's face, a brief haunting, which told him everything he needed to know. Suddenly an event from long ago slammed into Salva, and he eased back into a position of relaxation, flashing his teeth in a smile. "Why does everyone I meet these days tell me what I should do with my lungs?" the man mused, and confidence oozed from his tone. "I don't need you to tell me where you're from. Your parents were those hunters in the mountains." Salva spoke quietly, but intensely, watching Layla's face for a reaction. "You're that girl that I bit all that time ago."

The light from her eyes disappeared and her expression turned cold, “It wasn’t years...It was eleven months ago. Eleven months ago when you ruined my life and turned me into...into this thing.” Tears filled the brims of her eyes and showed through her steely gaze. This was the man, no, monster that had ruined her life. Her chance at being a normal teenager who had big plans for college, despite her parents path laid out. And all he could do was stand there with a smug grin on his face. A grin that she was quickly coming to hate, and before she could even think about what she was doing, Layla moved in, pulled back a firm fist, and laid it straight into Salva’s face as hard as she possibly could with all the pent up rage and wolf energy that resided in her tiny body.

That punch was not at all what Salva was expecting. The cigarette flew from his mouth, and he was sent staggering back, nearly falling over if not for his experience in confrontation. Once he recovered and stood, shoulders hunched in the middle of the sidewalk, Salva touched his face with two fingers, and felt blood. She just broke his fucking nose. Luckily the lunch crowd had subsided, and what few people surrounded them quickly walked away so they wouldn't be involved. Salva wiped the blood off of his face and snarled at her. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't-" Then, something made him stop. His expression turned from rage to confusion. "Who the hell taught you how to punch that hard?"

She watched as he staggered backwards. It would have been more satisfying had he just went down, but when she had noticed that she had done some damage, Layla was pleased with herself. Violence wasn’t her thing. It never had been, but ever since becoming a wolf, she couldn’t seem to get away from it, which had broken her heart in more ways than one. She wasn’t exactly the same gentle person, she was before all of this had started on that fateful night. Knowing she was probably in trouble, she watched him closely preparing herself to run, until he stopped and posed a question, “Are you forgetting that my parents were hunters? Or could it be that because you’re technically my wolf daddy, that maybe, just maybe, you’re the reason…” It was probably a lot of things. Anger. Sadness. Frustration. She didn’t know much about Salva, except for what he had done to her that night.

Salva considered her information, blood already beginning to drip from his chin. He supposed it was accurate that her lycanthropy was founded in the Sauvage blood, and that meant she was already ahead of the game from the common mutts running around… it made sense that she had a certain strength already. If funneled correctly, this girl could be quite a force to be reckoned with, an unending wealth of destructive potential. Salva titled his chin upwards and stared at her unblinkingly. "I have to say, I'm impressed with your spunk. It takes balls to punch someone like me in the face." He took a step closer to her, retrieving another cigarette and reaching up to light it. "What's your name, pup?"

Layla hadn’t expected him to react the way he had. He seemed more interested in her than he did the night he bit her and left her for dead. The redhead still bore the massive scar on her leg from where his fangs had ripped into her flesh. A painful reminder every time she noticed it. “Yeah, well I kinda hoped this day would come considering how you ruined my life.” Meeting Salva in person had given her a bit of relief though. The punch was cathartic, to say the least, and something she had needed. “It’s Layla. Guess you already know my last name.” She crossed her arms and continued to look him square in the face. None of the usual signs of submissiveness and respect to be found.

Salva couldn’t help but feel a little bit of pride at the hatred in her tone… he remembered that night just like she did, but to him, it was one encounter of hundreds in his lifetime, hardly worth recollecting the details. But now, his creation stood in front of him, for once, and she might as well have been a trophy of his hunter-hunting successes… living proof that his Gevaudan ancestry would live on. “Layla,” the older werewolf repeated, and the syllables rumbled from deep in his throat like a snarl. “I am Salva du Sauvage.” He took another step closer, not for one moment breaking that crucial eye contact… this little wolf had to realize who was the alpha here, no matter how stubborn she was being. “I think you and I are going to become good friends. But the next time you try to attack me, I’d prepare for a little different result, if I were you.”

When he spoke his name, a lightbulb had gone off in her head. She knew exactly who he was. A werewolf her parents had strongly urged her to be aware of. He was a member of some of the most fearsome wolves known to man; the Gevaudan line of heritage. No wonder rage was a constant in her small form now. Sure, she had every reason to be angry, but there seemed to be a smaller nagging that lay just a little further down. Arms still crossed, she held her ground as he moved in closer. While she resented him, Layla knew she could learn a lot from him, but for now, she wanted to be away from him and the way he made her feel. With gritted teeth, she responded, “Understood.” But she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of leaving first. Shoving her shoulder into him as hard as she could with a low growl, Layla moved past him. Her heart was beating hard in her chest from both nerves and anger, but she had gotten answers to a lot of questions that had been plaguing her mind for so long thanks to their chance encounter, and only time would tell where all of this would lead.

Figuring she would prefer to leave first, Salva allowed her to, and stood steadfast as Layla walked past him and made sure their shoulders collided. Once she was melting back into the clusters of civilians, the older wolf's expression split apart in an uneven grin, teeth so tightly clamped on his cigarette that the thing was nearly chopped in half. What a perfect thing this was, meeting Layla like this. Salva rolled his shoulders, wiped his face off with his arm, and set off down the sidewalk in the opposing direction. Yes, she'll be a fine pup to teach, Salva thought, taking a deep drag and inhaling the smoke into the sunny afternoon air. And if she isn't... just add her to the body count.

#wickedswriting #with: layla

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dimigex · 5 years ago

Note

Kiss on a dare and “This isn’t who I am.” for Kakagen. There, it's official. :P

Well, this isn’t a 500 word drabble or a micro drabble as I intended. Have 2000 words of KakaGen because I couldn’t help myself. Still accepting asks (and filling them slowly lol) from here.

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Sunlight pierced through the blinds, tormenting Genma’s oversensitive eyes. He rolled onto his side, groaned, and threw an arm across his face. He needed something to erase the memory of alcohol from his tongue, but he prefered that the room stopped spinning first. While he couldn’t remember the exact events from the previous night, they definitely involved too many shots.

As Genma started to push the covers off, two things occurred to him: someone else was in the room, and his bed didn’t have a green blanket patterned with black shuriken Genma’s eyes slid toward the opposite side of the bed and found it empty. Then, he noticed the shinobi lounging on the window sill like it was the most comfortable seat in the entire world. He did a double take when Kakashi eye-smiled. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

“Fuck you,” Genma ground out, scrambling for a fragment of last night’s memories. He came up empty handed.

Kakashi sat with his right leg bent, arm resting on the knee. An Icha Icha book dangled open in his hand as he supported the majority of his weight on the ball of his other foot. Kakashi wore the sleeveless black of Anbu rather than the jonin uniform that he typically favored. It had been a long time since Genma saw him wear that, too long. His eyes skimmed across lean muscle and pale skin.

“Interesting choice of words,” Kakashi snorted, snapping the book shut.

Genma refused to rise to the bait. Tossing the blankets aside, he stood. His mind scrambled for memories, but he forced himself to calm down. After a moment of too long silence, Kakashi pushed to his feet and nodded toward one of the doors. “The bathroom is through there."

Grunting a thanks, Genma moved off in that direction. Only once the door was firmly shut behind him did he allow the panic to close in. What the actual fuck was he doing in Kakashi’s apartment? What the hell happened last night? He still had clothes on, which, depending on how one looked at things, could be considered good or bad.

Genma crossed the room to splash cold water onto his face. He’d met up with Raido and Iwashi for a rare night out. They’d become few and far between since Iwashi got married and Raido got serious about his latest girl. An hour or so into the night, some of their other friends showed up. Then, the shots and tall tales started. Genma didn’t remember the details or the faces, except for one, Kakashi. But, they’d been on opposite sides of the room, a million miles apart, as usual.

Other details fought for attention, but Genma couldn’t be sure that they belonged to reality. He could almost recall his arms around Kakashi’s shoulders, followed closely by the heat of the other man’s chest. Laughter rang in his ears as their lips brushed.

"Fuck,” Genma growled, scrubbing through his hair with both hands. His reflection judged him from the mirror, bloodshot eyes disapproving. Genma steeled his nerve. He had lived through enough awkward morning afters to know how this went. For now, he needed to get out. Stalling in the bathroom was only going to make it worse.

When Genma stepped back into the bedroom, it was empty. He cut his eyes toward the window, wondering if he could open it without–

“I figured you’d still be the type to run the next morning.” Kakashi’s voice behind him shattered Genma’s resolve.

Genma turned and offered his signature grin. Thankfully, that came easily to him even though he had no idea where his senbon had gotten off to. Or his bandana for that matter. He raised his shoulders in a shrug. “I wasn’t thinking of running off, I was just admiring your decorating skills.”

Kakashi laughed, but didn’t point out the obvious lie. The plain white wall beside the window had a single shelf on it, covered with dust and a plant that looked like it had seen better days. A teasing lilt entered Kakashi’s voice. “Planning of making a habit of waking up here?”

If only. A blush rushed onto Genma’s cheeks before he could stop it. Hopefully, the dim light covered it. Nervousness washed through him, a relic from another lifetime. “Dunno, you planning to take me to bed more often?”

Genma cringed at the words as they came out of his mouth. Lately, all of his wit and confidence bled out in Kakashi’s presence. The man reduced Genma to a bumbling idiot and didn’t even realize it. He couldn’t remember when this stupid crush started. One day he’d looked at Kakashi and seen something different, felt something different. There were far more interesting men out there, women too. And honestly, the last thing that Genma needed in his life was a grumpy, moody Hokage. But still, the feeling persisted.

“I’m surprised you remember last night.” Kakashi’s voice took on a tone that Genma wasn’t familiar with, almost gentle with an undercurrent of uncertainty. “You were pretty drunk.“

Genna considered lying, but he didn’t want to make things any worse than they already were. He shrugged. "I remember bits and pieces.”

“Which ones?” At some point during the awkwardness, Kakashi had crossed the room. The proximity of his voice made Genma jump. He offered a glass of water. “Did you mean any of it?”

Genma took the cup and drained it, buying himself a moment to think. He hated the uncomfortable feeling of being exposed as a fraud. Did he mean any of what? “Hell, I barely remember my own name.”

Kakashi hummed under his breath and pulled away, the almost closeness disappearing like it had never been. The man nodded toward the side of the bed. “Your armor and weapons are there.”

Genma gazed at the flak vest and pouches folded neatly in the corner. He had missed those when he stumbled from the bed in shock, but he knew that he’d never left them so orderly. Genma raised one eyebrow. “Why don’t you fill in the blanks?”

“This,” Kakashi paused and exhaled, dark eyes searching. Then, he gestured vaguely at the bed and Genma. “This isn’t who I am.”

The words stunned Genma, especially since he had no clue what Kakashi was talking about. What wasn’t him? The way the room was decorated? The uncomfortable tension suddenly between them? His eyes had lingered on the bed–ohhh. Realization crashed in as the implication hit home. “What if I said it wasn’t me either?”

“You’d be lying.” Kakashi chuckled under his breath, offering a half shrug.

Genma took two steps in Kakashi’s direction, anger burning hot in his chest. He hated the suggestion that he was an easy lay. He hated that he couldn’t read Kakashi’s face like a normal person. “It is impossible to know what you’re thinking with this damn mask on.”

Without bothering with the wisdom of the movement, Genma reached for the fabric. Kakashi didn’t resist. His mask puddled around his neck and chest, forgotten. The man didn’t even have the decency to act surprised. In fact, Kakashi’s now visible lips curled into a smirk. Whiskey and tequila, the mixture of flavors on Genma’s tongue was nearly as potent as the mouth pressed against his. Neon lights flashed as the room spun. Catcalls and whistles, laughter. An arm tight around his shoulders. Whispered words too soft to recall, then a tug at his hand.

Fractured pieces began to fit themselves back together. Genma hissed under his breath. “Raido, Raido and that stupid dare."

"So, you do remember?” Watching Kakashi’s mouth move in time with his words temporarily distracted Genma from answering. He’d seen Kakashi without the mask one other time, back in Anbu. That night had etched itself into Genma’s memory forever, and not just because of Kakashi’s face.

Genma mentally shook himself away from those dangerous thoughts. “I know that Raido is an idiot, and I must have had a hell of a lot more to drink than I realized.”

Kakashi smiled, an honest to Kami visible smile, and Genma’s stomach did some kind of uncomfortable fluttery thing. “Would you like me to refresh your memory?”

Feeling his normal confidence flooding back in, Genma offered a cheeky grin. “Why don’t you hit the high points?”

“You were drunk and sloppy. Overeager with too much alcohol and too little common sense.” Genma’s heart plummeted at Kakashi’s words. Those were the good parts? “You slurred through some explanation about it being a stupid dare, that you had to fulfill. Honestly, I didn’t catch most of the words. Then, you kissed me.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m going to kill Raido. But first, I’m going to poison him, so that it’s slow and miserable. Then I’m going to--Kakashi’s next words interrupted Genma’s plotting. “We left shortly after that.”

Genma didn’t want to ask, he really didn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. “And then?”

“And then, we came here.” Kakashi let the silence drag out for a few moments, then shrugged. “Look, like I said last night, I’m not interested in a one night stand. I just want to get everyone off of my back about dating.”

Genma knew the feeling. Raido had been nagging him as well, but his friend’s teasing centered around Kakashi. He’d been hounding Genma for weeks, if not months, to make a move. Kakashi continued, totally unaware of Genma’s thoughts. “You were drunk and spouting nonsense, so I left you in bed to sleep it off.”

Left you in bed to sleep it off. The words repeated in Genma’s mind before it jumped back to the earlier ones. He turned to face Kakashi, trying hard not to stare at the beauty mark below his lips. “What kind of nonsense?”

Kakashi tugged at the mask around his neck, straightening the fabric in preparation to replace it. His eyes met Genma’s. “Nothing that needs repeated. Hopefully last night’s act will get them to leave us alone for a few days at least.”

Genma watched the slow movement of Kakashi’s hand, thoughts spinning in circles with every heartbeat. The dare. Raido’s teasing and the knowing looks. Dozens of almosts, constantly wishing that he’d said something, hating that he hadn’t. Wanting things to be different. He drew a quick breath. “What if it wasn’t all an act?”

Kakashi arched one eyebrow skyward, lips pulling into a frown that Genma had to restrain himself from kissing back into a smile. “What do you mean?”

“Hell, I’m too old for this shit.” Genma stepped into the remaining space between himself and Kakashi. The mask hung from the man’s fingertips, not quite back in place. It fluttered down in slow motion as Genma met Kakashi’s gaze without flinching. ““I don’t remember what I said last night, but I know what I needed to say. The only reason that Raido dared me to make a move on you is because he’s sick of me pining around like a lost puppy–his words, not mine.”

Even without the mask, Kakashi’s expression remained unreadable. Genma let the words run away with him. “I don’t know when it happened, or what the hell happened. But, I know that something has changed.”

As the silence continued, Genma huffed out a breath. “I guess what I’m asking is if I could take you to dinner or something sometime.”

“It’s a little early for dinner,” Kakashi observed, gaze flicking toward the window. His lips quirked into a smile that Genma wanted to memorize every facet of. “How about breakfast?”

“Breakfast,” Genma repeated, bringing his fingers to tangle in Kakashi’s mask. He tugged the man closer to brush their lips together. When he drew back, Genma half considered suggesting that they get breakfast in bed. But, he didn’t want to be that person any more. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tumble Kakashi back into the sheets, because he definitely did. But he wanted something more. Exhaling, he ran his fingers through his hair and nodded. “Breakfast sounds good.”

#Dimi answers #Kiss Prompts #Dialogue Prompts #KakaGen #GenKaka #Kakashi Hatake #Genma Shiranui #Language warning #Mutual Pining #Alcohol fueled confessions #More of a one shot than a drabble at this point

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romeo-the-cactus · 5 years ago

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Sven, Svetlana, and Superfluous Flannel

So a few months ago I rewatched the 2000s fantastic four film and the scene of the invisible woman having to strip off before she can run away because her clothes aren't invisible, just her, put this idea in my head of a teleporter with the same problem. Of course it wouldn't take long for Tony to figure out a suit that could travel with you, but who doesn't love drunk superheroes not having the best control over their powers?

So anyway, here's useless lesbian Carol and equally useless lesbian (or otherwise sapphic) reader in a classic everyone's alive and living in Avengers' tower bit of nonsense.

Ao3 Link

It's late. Really late. In fact, it's approaching early.

Captain Marvel is half a loaf deep in a toast feast in the kitchen at avengers tower when with a sudden thud there's a you on the kitchen table.

A very naked you. A (judging from the simultaneous giggling and grunting) very drunk very naked you.

With your head in her plate and jam in your hair.

"Uhhh...hi there" Carol said, trying desperately to avert her eyes.

You sat bolt upright on the table and swayed slightly, before twisting to face her and exclaiming "Captain Carol! You made it!"

"To the kitchen? Yeah, I made it" Carol, replied, unable to keep the smile from her face as she untied the flannel from her waist and started trying to maneuver your arms into it.

"What?!" You exclaimed, arms flailing as you looked frantically around, managing to catch Carol in the stomach. She held your arms still and managed to get the sleeves on as you kept talking, frowning as you took in your surroundings.

"Dammit! I was at the bar round the corner, you know, the one with the dartboard and the sticky tables? Bartender looks like Harrison Ford?"

Unperturbed by Carol's bemused smile as she started doing up the buttons, you carried on, "so I was playing darts in front of this really cute European girl who said she had a bet with her friend over who could kiss an avenger - 'cause they're only in the city for a week, see-"

At this point you were so enthralled by your own storytelling that you missed how Carol paused on one of the buttons, some of the laughter disappearing from her eyes as she found herself struggling to get this one button through the hole as she thought about you giggling, wrapped up in some tourist, while she was sat at home trying to catch up on earth movies all night.

"-anyway she wouldn't stop trying, and I kept telling her that I just wanted to finish my darts and my beer and get home, and then her friend, who turns out to be her boyfriend turns up from somewhere, and says girls don't count, which is shitty-" this you punctuate with another wide swing that Carol manages to dodge, suddenly catching up with your rambling and realising you hadn't actually kissed anyone "-and then I stand up again, 'cause I paid for my game and I don't really care about how open Sven and Svetlana or whatever they're called are or aren't, I don't wanna be kissing some random girl, and then he takes a damn swing at me and I guess I was a little less stable on my feet than I thought 'cause then the next dart hits Bjørn or whatever his name is in the shoulder and then maybe-Heidi starts shrieking to the whole bar about how her boyfriend is gonna fight an Avenger over her and I just wanna finish my game so I grab the dart and kick him in the shins and totally got a bullseye, and I was just about to start fightin' homophobic Hans and definitely win and then poof I'm back here and, oh," you say, finally looking down at Carol, who's bracing her arms either side of you, struggling to breathe with how hard she's laughing, and realise you've left your clothes behind "and now Agnetha's gonna take my favourite shirt back to wherever-the-fuck, Europe as a trophy and I'm right back to 100% of my coworkers having seen me naked. And I'm hungry." You pouted, missing the confusion that darted across her face as she turned to start making you a sandwich.

"Sounds like you had quite the night," she said, spreading peanut butter on bread "how come you didn't end up kissing Helga?" she asked, as casually as she could.

"Was'n...mmf...was'n oo" came a sleepy, drunken mumble from behind her.

The second slice of bread fell out of her hand as she spun around, fists twinkling and a confused blush rising to her cheeks as she was met with the sight of your head lolling forward and you slipping towards the edge of the table, catching you in the nick of time as you fell fast asleep.

Ever the gentleman, Captain Danvers picked you up and carried you to bed, tucking you in and lightly pressing a kiss to your forehead as quiet, adorable snores left your cute, unkissed-by-grabby-generic-europeans lips, and left your room, heading back to the kitchen with a soft smile on her face. Unaware that a hoard of drunk, frantic avengers each carrying a random item of your clothing were about to come crashing in.

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twodaysintojune · 5 years ago

Text

Heart Shaped Confetti

Supernatural, Debriel, Warnings-None

Based on the prompt found here.

One Shots Masterlist, Long Stories Masterlist

Find me at AO3

“I had a crush on a guy and I didn’t know how to handle it… so I filled his car with heart shaped confetti.”

Dean’s mind, a bit merry because of the three shots of tequila he had downed through the last rounds of “Guess the lie from the truth” suddenly cleared up enough for him to remember that night three years ago when he had rushed out of the campus almost at nine p.m., exasperated with how little points he had acquired by helping the teacher sort his documents and knowing he had to get to his essay for the next week asap when he opened his Baby only to have tons of multi coloured paper and balloons get thrown at him.

He had called Sam immediately. It was stupid. He knew it was stupid considering his brother was heading to California while he and his hurled out Baby were parked in the middle of Massachusetts.

“Dean?”

“Please tell me it wasn’t you.”

“It… wasn’t me?”

“For real?”

Sam chuckled.

“Dude, are you alright?”

“No Sammy, I’m not okay.”

“Why? What happened?” Now there was a clear concerned note on the younger Winchester at the other side of the line.

“My Baby… She was defiled.”

“What happened to the car?” The stern voice of his father got itself in the conversation.

“Someone opened it. And they filled it with confetti.”

The line went mute. Then a snicker.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I said,” Dean took on breath to keep calm. “That someone opened my Baby and filled it with confetti and balloons!”

More silence, and then the annoying sound of Sam and John laughing out loud.

“Why are you laughing!? This is the worst thing that could ever happen to my car!”

Dean had thrown a literal tantrum. He had screamed and screamed at the phone while his brother and his dad laughed, he could almost bet that if they hadn’t been on their way to Palo Alto they would have been rolling all over the floor. Heck they could have almost tried after he added insult to injury when he had to clear that it was not even normal confetti, it had been heart shaped confetti.

“Looks like Dean’s got an admirer~”

“Shut up Sam!”

“You should look up for a note Son”

“There is no note! It was a stupid prank!”

“Oh, but you did look for a note!”

“SAM!”

He had done his best to forget it. He had cleaned his Baby as best as he could and it took him six months to finally get rid of all the confetti on plain sight. And now, in the middle of a party for the people about to graduate, he had finally met the person responsible for one of his most frustrating days on campus.

And the problem was that it was a person Dean thought he knew as well as the back of his palm. A person that had been by his side for more than three years helping him in times of strife, laughing with him in times of happiness, suffering with him in times of anguish. A man that through all those college years had slowly turned from a simple acquaintance to hopefully a lifelong strong friendship.

“…That was you?”

Half the people cheered and half the people groaned. Dean had ruined the round but more importantly he just realized Gabriel was at least six shots and two beers drunker than he was, meaning that he had actually forgotten Dean was right there and probably was still blissfully unaware of the things he had said. Quickly, before the crowd began to pester them he stood up.

“Alright man you’re wasted, time to go back home.”

“What? No! They haven’t said if it’s true or not!”

“I say it’s true. Now let’s go.”

“No! I have to drink now!”

“Then drink!”

Gabriel drowned his shot and almost falls back laughing. This was bad. Dean was amazed he had not realized before just how utterly fucked up Gabriel had been. Once in the car he had to buckle his best friend and make him swear he’d stay awake until they reached their apartment, there was just no way he would be able to lift him three floors.

Gabriel looked out of the window moodily for almost the entire trip back home. Dean turned to him after he parked the car.

“Gabe? You still there?”

“You’re too kind.”

“Huh?”

“You’re too kind!”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“I say that you’re too kind! You should have kicked me out of the apartment months ago!”

“That? Come on man, it’s my fucking place, I can do whatever I want with it!”

“And you’re too hot! How am I supposed to go out to study and work if I see your face every morning!?”

Now Dean snickered. He had never seen Gabriel being this pouty before and it was frighteningly cute.

“And I feel like shit because you’re fucking rich and hot and half the campus has had wet dreams about you, you could have anyone! Like when that girl…” Dean stepped out of the car, he walked round it to help Gabriel, who was still on his rant despite the fact that Dean had closed his door already and couldn’t understand a thing he said until he opened the shotgun side. “…and all you get are one nighters and I have to listen to whomever you got for the night moaning like crazy!”

“Well, it’s not like you’re any different. I still remember Kali.”

“Kali was good…”

“I bet she was.” Dean half groaned while straining to pull Gabriel out of the car.

“But she wasn’t you.”

It took Gabriel most of his concentration to walk by Dean’s side. Dean heaved him onto the elevator and chuckled when Gabriel held onto him for dear life when it started to rumble upwards. He had gotten oddly silent, face resting on his shoulder.

“…I thought that I could surprise you, you know?” Dean hummed, he was more concerned with keeping his friend standing. “But it got late and I couldn’t lose my shift…” Gabriel hugged Dean harder “The next day you were so pissed I… I’m sorry. I was so stupid… I should never have…”

Dean’s throat closed with a knot. No wonder he had kept it to himself for all these years.

“Hey, it’s alright. It’s my fault for letting an idiot like you have a copy of the car’s keys.”

The elevator stopped. Gabriel now clearly lumped over Dean all the way to their door where he had to fight a little to get the keys on the lock and go into their apartment. Once inside Gabriel dragged himself across the room until he hit the couch face down and immediately fell asleep.

The following morning a strong scent of coffee woke him up while the noise of the tv and the blender made him groan covering his ears. Dean turned the blender off and moved to open the curtains until the sunlight hit Gabriel’s face directly and he hissed covering his eyes with the blanket Dean had placed on him the night before.

“Rise and shine Babe!”

Gabriel mumbled something below the blanket.

“Making some pancakes, you want some?”

More mumbling.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that.”

“…I wanna puke.”

“We’ve got extra creamy whipping cream for the pancakes. Or maybe you’d like some nice ultra greasy fried eggs and bacon?”

Gabriel retched a moment, stayed still trying to contain the need to vomit but soon after he dropped from the couch and stumbled running towards the bath. Dean winced hearing his friend throwing out over the toilet.

With a sigh, Dean grabbed some water, pulled out a Tylenol and headed towards the bath. He waited until Gabriel was finished and gave him the medicine. Gabriel sat on the cold tiled edge of the bathtub, gargled a couple of times and drowned the pill without saying much.

“You look like crap, you know that?”

“No shit Sherlock.”

Dean smiled at him. He could see how Gabriel was trying his best to put himself together.

“Yesterday…”

“What about it?”

“I totally lost it.”

“That you did.”

“I… I wasn’t too much of a bother, right?”

“Well, I literally had to drag you all the way back but apart from that you were all puppies and sunshine.”

Gabriel chortled.

“And it was kind of cute when you complained about all the people I get into my room. Something about all the moaning I think?”

Gabriel groaned and covered his face with his hands.

“I’m sorry Dean, it’s your house, you can do whatever you want in here.”

“Yeah, and let’s not get started on the part where you complained of being poor and unable to pay me the rent.”

Now Gabriel was blushing and whispered a sad “Oh God…”. He turned away from Dean’s sight frowning. How could he have been such an idiot?

“But that gave me time to think you know? Find a way for you to get the money and pay me back.”

Gabriel looked towards his friend with a pleading look.

“You rent your room.”

“What?”

“You heard me, I don’t want to rent that room to anyone but you so, in order to pay me, you have to rent your own room.”

Gabriel grunted. “Yeah right, and where would I sleep?”

“With me.”

Gabriel looked at Dean stunned. He might have heard something wrong. No, he definitely, most certainly have heard something wrong. Either that or he had actually died of an alcoholic overdose and had miraculously found himself in Heaven.

“There’s no room for another bed.”

“You think we don’t fit on the queen size?”

It was official, Gabriel’s brain had stopped working. He blushed with the simple idea of sleeping in the same bed as his friend but he didn’t let that get the best of him. Dean must be joking. He must be. No matter how earnest and sure his eyes were right now. No matter that he could tell his ‘I’m being honest with you’ expression apart from the one that said ‘I’m just shitting on you, bitch’ and that he was definitely not shitting him. Was he really asking him to sleep by his side? Didn’t that technically imply to start a relationship?

It was too good. Way too good. Something was wrong. Up until yesterday everything was perfectly okay. He had made sure to be as friendly as a friend could be, behave as normal as any other roommate would behave. He was damn sure he had done his fucking best to hide his crush on his best friend after his stupid plan to confess backfired and he couldn’t find the guts to tell him it had been his fault his car had needed three thorough cleanings after that failed confession of love.

“You sure I wasn’t the only drunk ass in the place yesterday?”

Dean snickered and went to grab something in his back pocket.

“I forgot to say that you also talked about something else…”

He pulled it out and grabbed Gabriel’s hand, placing something rumpled, small and delicate on his hand. A red piece of heart shaped confetti. Gabriel looked at it and paled like a murdered might when the weapon used for the crime is taken out in court for everyone to examine. His guts clenched once more in dread but he had already puked everything out, there was nothing else his stomach could muster away. His mouth was dry and he clearly felt cold even when he was boiling inside and he thanked god he was sitting already because otherwise he would have passed out.

“Wh…where did you find this?”

“They still appear in the weirdest of places from time to time so I drop them in the glovebox.”

“Dean I’m so sorry, I’m so stupid, I really—”

Gabriel was shut by Dean’s lips. His hands holding Gabriel’s head so that the idiot wouldn’t move. He moved back just a little.

“You’re not an idiot Gabe. I was. And if you’ll still take me I’d like to try something more than a one night stand.”

Gabriel could lose himself in Dean’s eyes. He could have kissed his past drunk self for whatever the hell he had stammered last night. Still, his trickster behaviour didn’t allow him to leave it at that.

“…You’re just doing this for the pecan pie, aren’t you?”

“Well… yeah, there’s also that.”

Dean blushed in a way that showed Gabriel he had actually hit a nail but he could live with that. He pulled Dean into his mouth for another soft peck.

“Guess the headache is totally worth it now.”

Dean chuckled and helped Gabriel up. They poured chocolate chips on the pancake batter to celebrate tonight was going to be their first movie night as a couple.

#Debriel #dean winchester #gabriel #College!AU #fanfiction #fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic

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