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mrs-march-ahs · 4 years ago

Note

how the evans would act when they have a crush on u ^^

How The Evans Act When They Have A Crush On You & How They React When You Tell Them You Like Them Too

Award for the longest title goes tooooo... me!

JAMES SUCKS BUT I MAKE UP FOR IT BY DOING BOTH KYLE’S AND A DETAILED KIT

Two other requests-

Could I please request how the Evans would react to their best friend (reader) admitting they're in love with them?

Heyo! I’m not sure how this would go but how would the Evan’s react to a nervous/insecure reader confessing to them?

-I hope this is satisfactory, even though I don’t think it’s what you two wanted<3

Enjoy! :)

Tate

-Would always just be interested in you

-Wanting to help you, watch you, talk to you, just constantly be around you

-But he’d also be insecure whether he was annoying you, so occasionally he would make himself invisible and just watch you

-Whatever hobbies you had, he’d love to watch you do them, paint, draw, write, play games

-If you played any instrument he would love to lay on your bed and listen to you, no matter how good or bad you were

-He would leave little sweet messages on the chalkboard and leave little post-it notes for you to find

-They would have fun little facts about birds or other trivial stuff but you would find them cute

-The occasional fact about something romantic, like ‘Every time you kiss somebody, your heart beat increases by 10-15 beats per minute’

-He might go a little far and leave a message like ‘Your dress looked pretty’, which you would find creepy since you didn’t know Tate was a ghost

Kit

-He thought of ways to tell you how he felt but because it seemed like your family was gonna live in the murder house for a while, cause you were all settling in well, he didn’t want to risk losing his friendship with you, since you were the only ghost with whom he really got along

-You walked down to the basement and said his name in a sing song voice, “Tateeeee”, “Come out come out wherever you are!”

-He showed up and you asked him if he wanted to go out on a real date

-He was obviously nervous, because you didn’t know yet that he was a ghost, but when he hesitated and you looked upset, he said yes right away

-You ran up and hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, making him blush and laugh, and whilst you were at school, he got some things ready and got candles and a table cover so make your kitchen look like a restaurant

-He ordered McDonalds delivery and got your chicken nuggets under a serving platter for effect

- “We are dining on, nuggets of the chicken”

-Although you were a little disappointed and wanted to go out on a real date with him, you found his effort cute

-He definitely played footsie with you under the table the whole date

-Definitely walked you to your room

- “Well… this is me…”

- “Just wanted to make sure you got home safe”

-Kissed you

oh my god I got so carried away

-You would first meet Kit when you first come and move to Massachusetts

-One day you want to venture out and get an taxi to go to town, only a few minutes later to realise you don’t have your wallet

-You awkwardly tell the driver that if takes you back home quickly, you can get money and you will pay him right away

-But since Boston men aren’t usually so sweet, he just kicks you out, leaving you to wander the motorway alone late at night, far away from your home and hoping to quickly find somewhere to go

-Eventually you stumble upon a gas station, and as you walk up, a hand appearing on your shoulder makes you automatically turn around and push whoever touched you to the ground

-The man in blue uniform gets up slowly with his hands up defensively, “Hey hey, didn’t mean to startle ya, miss”

-You apologise, feeling stupid for this kind of encounter, but he doesn’t seem to mind as much as you’d think

- “It’s always nice to see a woman able to protect herself”, he smiles

-He offers to drive you home, and you thank him dearly, explaining to him that you don’t have a car yet, having only just moved here

-He offers to take you to buy one, knowing an awful lot about cars, and to convince you further, tells you that any man working in a car salon will try to sell a single lady a piece of junk for a high price

-You agree, thinking that the offer is sweet, and he takes you to buy yourself a car, to make the date even more fun, Kit tells you to pretend you’re an old married couple

- “Miss Walka over here needs a car, good Sir”

-At some point while looking at cars, Kit holds your hand and you don’t even notice

-He negotiates a good deal with the salesman, and you get a car together

- “Your husband just got you an awfully good deal, Madam, he’s a man who deserves a good meal and a cold beer if I’ve ever seen one”, the salesman laughs, signing the last of the papers before handing Kit the keys to your car. “Oh, he’ll get more than that”, you say to tease Kit, before smiling at him sweetly. Kit blinks at you, before turning back to the salesman and shaking his hand. As the two of you walk away, Kit looks at you in disbelief, the thought of your dirty words clearly plastered in his mind. “Did ya mean what you said back there?”. He says, as he opens the car door for you. “Whatever do you mean?”, you act stupid. “I was just pretending to be your wife, Mr Walka”

-When he has a crush on you, he gives you sooo many compliments

-Little dirty innuendos

-Would definitely call you and talk to you late night on the phone until one of you fell asleep (house phone if they had them)

-He’s the kind of person to tell you that he got a visit from a cute dog earlier at the gas station and it made him think of you

Kyle

-Every time you go to get gas from Kit, he gives you only a little amount, so you have a reason to keep coming back

-One time when you go get gas from him, you forget your wallet again, and he teases you about it

-He lets you off and pays for your gas

- “I owe you, Mr Walka”

- “How about a date?”

-You smile at how confident he is, and nod excitedly, having been waiting for him to ask you for a while now

-Kit winks at you and waves as you drive off, completely melted inside about finally getting his girl

-Even though he’s always confident, he’s still a little shy and awkward around you when he sees you in class

-If all of his friends are in a class messing around, throwing stuff, being loud, and you walk it, he tells everybody to shut up because there’s a lady present

- “Hey careful, make sure you don’t throw it at her”

-It’s not until he sees you at a huge party, that he’s confident enough to go up to you

-Even though he’s more than happy to flirt, he’s just not confident enough to do that last step and ask you out somewhere

-He’ll bring you a drink and talk and flirt with you, and you’ll definitely get the hint

-He slowly lifts his arm up and stretches it over you, trying to do the classic yawn move, hoping you won’t notice or mind. You look over at him and narrow your eyes in fake suspicion.

- “Didn’t you come here with a movie star? Surely you get handsome men bringing you drinks all the time?”, he says, motioning to the drink in your hand.

“You calling yourself handsome?”, you tease him. Kyle laughs a breathy awkward laugh and nods. “Well yeah”

-When you do ask him for a date, he insists that he take the initiative to plan what you two do

-Clearly wanting to make a good first impression, he’d take you somewhere interesting

-Aquarium, in which he’ll make up clearly fake facts about the fish just to make you laugh

-Bowling, just so he can tease you about how much you suck

-Mini golf, so, even though you know how to play, he can wrap his arms around you and help you put

-And if he does take you to the movies, you aren’t spending a dime

-He’ll also wrap his arm around you not-so subtly

Franken Kyle

“Whatcha doin there, hm?”. Kyle leans into your ear and whispers.

“Just in case you get scared, you can cuddle up to me”

“Kyle we’re watching the Lego movie”

Jimmy

-You’re a witch at the academy, and with Kyle’s very slow progress to getting better, both Zoe and Madison are getting slightly tired of having to constantly take care of him

-But you don’t mind, finding his Frankenstein state cute

-Whenever he stumbles into the kitchen by himself you always help him make food

-If he’s ever struggling with anything, he usually comes to you, knowing you’re the most patient out of them all

-Then, one night, all the teens in the academy go to a party, while you lay in bed

-But when the rain starts to get really heavy and the first thunder growls, Kyle rushes into your room, before slowly knowing and peaking his head out, clearly scared

-You let him come and lay with you, rubbing his back to calm him down

-Although no real words are spoken, it’s from that moment that you decide to take on all responsibilities relating to Kyle, the good and the bad

-He’s admired you from afar for a very long time, ever since the first time you joined the circus

-You were incredibly flexible, and always showing off to everyone and practicing on stage

-He would always come and watch you practice, cheering you on more than anybody else

-You called Jimmy ‘my cheerleader’

-It made him blush every time

-Amazon Eve always told him to just ask you for dinner, but the only thing that stopped him was the thought that you wouldn’t want to go out and be seen with a freak like him, especially since your body looked so normal that you didn’t have to hide anything

-Eve and Paul reminded Jimmy that it’s him who’s always the most confident in going out into the real world, and he mustn’t be scared

-When they all plan to go to a diner together, as a protest to being shunned from society, you find his leadership charming and happily go with them

-Even though you all get kicked out, you calm Jimmy down and take care of him when his dad beats him up

James

-You wipe the scars on his face and tell him how brave you think he is

- Trying to gain confidence, you take a deep breath before making the move. “Maybe the two of us should go to that diner”. Jimmy looks up at you, as if he expects you to keep talking. When the nerves hit you all at once, you begin rambling. “You know cause if the two of us go and they’re okay with that then maybe we can start going with the others one by one, and then you know we’ll ease our way back into society and stuff”. You laugh a breathy laugh, but Jimmy says nothing. With every silent second passing, your heart begins to break. But luckily for you, Jimmy speaks up. “Wait, are you asking me out? Like… on a date? To the diner?”. “What if I were?”, you quietly reply. He smiles wide and pulls you closer to him, “I’d love that”.

-James is definitely the least subtle

-Constantly giving you compliments, kisses and gifts

-Opening every door for you and listening very carefully to everything you say

-He doesn’t want you to even think about another man, so he overwhelms you with every way he can show you he likes you

-I can imagine him organising a big ball or event at the hotel just so the two of you can dress up and go together

-He is also the most confident out of them all, although he is a softie around you, he has no trouble asking you anything he wants to you

-He’ll kiss your hand a lot and you’ll eventually get the hint

Kai

- “I would be most delighted if we were to make our relationship more official, and vow fully loyalty to one another”

-You agree and he is over the moon

-Once the two of you are in a relationship, the compliments, kisses and gifts don’t stop

-He will give you your space without him, but when the two of you are in the same room together, he treats your precious time together as if it’s sacred

-He will approximately 43 seconds into your relationship begin planning how he’s gonna kill you

-You can tell Kai likes you when he’s harsher on you than he is on other members of the cult

-He’ll be pissed at you for being a distraction for him

-He’ll definitely tell you when he’s impressed with you, when you murdered somebody or helped him plan something

-Even though he definitely would not want it

-If you proved to be smarter than him in any aspect, he’d be furious

-You’d be sat on his sofa while he’s talking to you about having to kill Sally because she’s getting in the way of him winning city council

- “Samuels looked at where she lives, and it has no back doors, no nothing, it’ll be impossible to get in her house without smashing windows and causing attention”

“Why don’t you get Ally to go to her first? If Meadow convinces her to go to Sally to talk about the cult, then the front door will be open”. Kai looks at you with angry eyebrows. “We’ll sit in the car and wait for a few seconds, she’ll let Ally in, won’t lock the door straight after her, and then let them talk for a minute before we just walk right in”

-His ego won’t let him take suggestions from somebody below him, so even though he wants to be proud of you for being smart, he’s mad

-He’ll sit for hooours trying to think of any other solution he physically can think of, to not go with what you suggested

-Around the cult, he’d treat you like everybody else though

- “Y/N’s idea was brilliant, Ally just walked in and they walked straight to sit down, she didn’t lock the door”

-He’d praise you to encourage you to think of ideas, which he would later be mad that you have

━━━━━━♡♤♡━━━━━━

-You’d find out how he felt about you during pinky power

-After being suspicious that he may have feelings for you for a while, you realised this is the only way to truly find out how he feels without him trying to manipulate you

-He’d ask you about something deep, and you’d latch on after he finishes a sentence to ask him your question

- “I have a question for you”

“Go ahead”

“How do you feel about me?”

Kai stays silent and continues to look you in the eye, taken aback by the question but not wanting to show it.

“When you’re with me, how do you feel?”

“I think you have real potential, you’re strong-”

“I’m not asking the Divine Ruler, I’m asking Kai, Kai Anderson”

He takes a deep breath before unintentionally breaking eye contact for a few seconds to think. You wait anxiously for the answer, and with every second passing you know what it will be.

“You’re special”, he starts, looking you in the eye again. “You’re valuable to the group, and to me. And I think you’d be a great… mother”. The last catches you off guard, not expecting Kai to be a family man or to think about this with you.

“You… you want me to… have your children?”

“I think our children would be indestructible, strong, powerful, decisive. They would be the seed of the better future”. Although it was a little forward for somebody you’ve never even kissed, you were beyond flattered, knowing how specific Kai is with traits in people.

“Let’s make a baby”, Kai says.

“Whoa whoa”, you laugh and unlink your pinky with his. “We’re not even dating, Kai”

“Why date if children is the ultimate purpose?”

“Then don’t look at is as dating… look at it… as getting to know the mother of your future children”

-Kai would love this and you’d soon end up dating

-And have like 6 kids

@milly-louise @amourtentiaa @kitwalker02 @tatestripedsweater @therenlover @maria-akira @tatesimper @thxc0untessesgl0ve @mossybank @ahsxual @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @mrs-march-ahs-biggest-fan @kitwalkerangel @kitisagoldenretrieverboy @darlingkitt @blackbat2020@elaineygrace @kaiandersonskoolaid @undeadcortez @whiiiiplaaaaash

As usual, if you wanted to be added or taken away, dm me or comment!! I won’t mind! <3

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roscgcld · 4 years ago

Text

HEADCANONS + GOJO SATOR || chubby s/o

request: can you please do jjk character reaction to you gaining weight? i feel so insecure about it and it would be good to read something like that.. i love ur headcanons :-)

hey again! it's me with the gaining weight request :( i forgot to say that i want gojo's reaction to it :( his reaction to you being insecure of gaining weight and trying to lose it. thank u in advance ily :]

note: excuse me *bops you on the head* you cannot be insecure about something as small as weight. you’re beautiful 😠😠 and if anyone else says otherwise i will start swinging. who doesn’t like a little fluff to hold onto when they cuddle???? you’re perfect, and a little extra weight is not that bad! and i am happy that you like my headcanons love - makes me super happy to hear it from time to time >< i love you and send you positive vibes uwu ~

pronouns: she/her - because it came naturally, but i still love my non-binary readers i send you love and kisses and an apology ><

because of your boyfriend’s wicked good looks and his naturally flirty personality, it is no surprise that he is surrounded by a lot of equally beautiful people in your eyes

and even though he entertains them with no more than a charming smile and a few nice comments, that doesn’t make you any less insecure about something as small as your weight

also adding into your insecurities is his title as a gojo - the strongest sorcerer of the generation, and the next in line to become the head of the gojo clan. his elders are expecting him to marry young and start popping out kids

the women that his elders had sent to him as ‘suitors’ did not help too - they were all what you viewed as the epidemy of a perfect woman. pretty face, amazing body, and a soft spoken and gentle personality; acting and looking almost too fake and doll-like

gojo usually turns them away by giving them some half ass excuse about why he can’t date them, slamming the door in their faces after he pulls you towards him to press a passionate kiss to your lips; hand obviously resting on your ass

and even though that makes you super embarrassed, you just giggle softly against his lips at the offended gasp coming from the door; to which gojo will grin lightly into the kiss before deepening it quite excitely

but that never shuts your demons away - and one day you just found yourself looking yourself over the full length mirror hanging in your shared closet; a frown marring your features

you had always pride yourself on keeping in somewhat shape, but with the constantly on the go lifestyle you live, and the stress that had started to mountain at work; it is natural for you to have gained a little

and recently, as if your mind had decided to spite you, you had realised that gojo is surrounded with more and more people around him - beautiful people around him, to be exact

whether they are fellow super fit sorcerers, another random suitor knocking at the door of your shared apartment, or even just random strangers on the street - you have started to realise that gojo just naturally attracts attractive people like that into his life

people who would look amazing together with him. someone who isn’t you

you were so consumed with your thoughts that you had not heard gojo, who came out from the shower with wet hair and a pair of fitted briefs, looking around your empty bedroom in confusion

tossing the towel he was using to dry up into the laundry basket, he had peeked into the closet of your shared room curiously; only to see you dressed in nothing but a cute white bra and a matching set of underwear

he was about to tease you about it, playfully asking if you ‘trying to make us late for our lunch with the others’ when he noticed the frown on your face as you scanned yourself over; hands resting on your stomach

wordlessly gojo made his way towards you, your eyes snapping towards his huge frame appearing in the mirror as his arms wrapped themselves around you immediately; bright blue eyes blinking at you from the mirror whilst he rests his chin on your shoulder

“what’s wrong, bunny? you have a frown on your face, and you know that i hate it when you’re frowning~”

at first you felt embarrass to admit what was plaguing your mind, knowing that he was going to tease you about being so insecure about something like this - but gojo is stubborn

he is going to coax it out of you one way or another, so you better fess up with whatever it is that is bothering you

it took some time for him to coax the question out of you, but eventually you gave in; awkwardly meeting his eyes through the mirror as he raises an eyebrow at you; silently coaxing for you to tell him

“I just...i’ve wanted to ask you for awhile now....am i fat?”

your question actually had gojo freeze as he made the most confused face ever, hand cupping up to gently squish your face between his fingers as he pulled away a little

“who said that? am i going to have to kill someone?” gojo asks too casually, to which you widen your eyes before you wrapped your hands around the wrist holding your face, shaking your head

“n-no! not at all!” you tried to calm him down as he turns your body to face him, an even more confused look appearing on his face - and you know that it’s genuine since he looked like a confused child

this just made things worse for you as you rubbed your warm cheeks, looking away from his all searching eyes. “i-it’s just...i feel like i’ve gained some...and you’re always around really good looking people...women..”

gojo was genuinely confused as he frowns, to which you just gave him an asperated face. yet before you can say anything he made a noise of confusion; arms wrapped around your waist loosely. “is it bad that i didn’t even notice?”

whatever you wanted to say dried up on your tongue as gojo looks over at you and gave you a soft but genuine smile, hands reaching over to cup your cheeks in his hands

“i didn’t date you because of something so artificial, bunny.” he hummed as he playfully squished your cheeks together. “to be honest, i didn’t notice about that until you brought it up.”

you made a face at him, as if silently asking if he was being serious as he pulled a face on you as well. “i am being serious here, bunny. i really didn’t notice at all.”

he just pulls you into his chest and hold you close, smushing your face into his firm chest as he coos at you. “you should know better then to think that i care about things as fickled as weight~ i’m dating you because you can make really good onigiri.”

“so you are dating me for my cooking?!” you gasped at him dramatically as you pulled your face away to glare at him, to which he just grinned before he leans forward to press kisses all over your face; your annoyance melting away immediately

after that it sort of just been left forgotten - but gojo never forgot. He can never forget something like that

even before you told him, he could tell that something was bothering you for some time now; but he wanted to wait for you to tell him yourself

and like he said, he really truly did not realise it until you pointed it out; he had never really care about things like physical appearance. since at the end of the day, he only cares about your chemistry together

i think that gojo, even though he is very vain, does not necessarily care about looks when he dates. for him, he wants someone who can handle all sides of him instead of being with him him for face value

so that is all he cares about - and you were perfect for him. so do forgive him for not giving two shits about something as small as appearance lol

yet he knew that you were still thinking about it - so he went out of his way to make sure that you’re not going to do something that might bring you more harm

when he realises you are eating smaller portions, he might whine and pout at you with puppy eyes; demanding for you to take a few more bites of your food

and no one can really say no to him whenever he shines his beautiful eyes at them; so he always end up getting his way

he always make sure to get the food you like and stock up on the snacks you enjoy to eat; and heck, he will even go out of his way to visit you during your lunch break at work to bring you out on lunch dates whenever he can

he’ll even become more touchy; even more so than he was before. but now he made sure to keep his touches at places where you are the most self conscious about

grabbing your thighs when you two seat together, resting his hands on your love handles whenever he wraps his arms around your waist, resting on your stomach whenever you two cuddle together

he’s always shown his affection through physical touches, since mans will end up insulting you by accident because of his inability to read the room - he might make a very unsavory joke that makes you want to hit him over the head

but he does really care for you, and always goes out of his way to make sure that you’re more than aware that he does care for you; even if it means feeding you food in the middle of a restaurant if you refuse to eat more

when you confront him about it, he just gave you a soft but genuine smile before he rests his hands on your shoulders to shake you gently; as if he is shaking you back into reality

“i just know you well, bunny. and i know that you’re going to try and loose weight because you think that’s what i want.” he sighs dramatically before he tossed his arms around you, pulling you into him with a pout. “but you should know better than to think that i am going to leave you because of your weight.”

his words caused you to pause as he pulls away a little to press a soft kiss on your forehead, soft lips resting against your hairline for a few more moments as he tightened his arms around you

“plus, i see it as a bonus honestly. more places to mark and more of you to love. also - your ass looks amazing in sweats.”

“i should have known the inner perv will wiggle his way out.” you grumbled shyly as you tried to push your grinning boyfriend away, who just grins in response as he you closer, catching your wrists in his hands. “you know i speak nothing but the truth love~”

and even though gojo adopted such a teasing tone, you knew that he was speaking nothing but the truth. it may not be enough to calm your whispering demons, but it did make you feel a little more confident in yourself

gojo also continued to shower you in more and more attention, making sure you never forget just how much he loves you. and that you should never care about something as small as your weight

he loves you no matter what, no matter what size you are - as long as you are there to welcome him home after a long day of work with the all love you hold for him, that’s all he needs

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godwrecks · 4 years ago

Note

um.. can i req for kuroo just being so mean to his girlfriend with a huge size kink on top? i just love the idea of him deliberately being mean bcs he likes seeing his baby cry for him then immediately change to a loving bf after that 🙈

Mean Dom! Kuroo - Too Dumb

word count: 1.7k

tags: dacryphilia; heavy degradation; daddy kink; dom! kuroo; mean kuroo tbh; size kink; throat fucking; some aftercare (?).

Always in a world of incessant business and black suits, you should have guessed Kuroo would need release somewhere else. Yet out of all things he could enjoy, out of everything that could be his if he just wished it to be, you turned out to be the subject of his adoration. He absolutely worshipped you - showered you with gifts and praise so much so that you would never doubt yourself or his love for you. And considering the way his eyes shone with tenderness whenever you were around, you never did. Not usually, at least.

But right now, when he was so deep inside you yet his face branded utter boredom, you couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your chest. You had struggled against his almost suffocating embrace, writhing like a prey facing death, when he ripped your panties aside and aligned himself along your folds. There had been a few protests, yet his dark gaze was enough to silence you.

“Tetsu,” you cried out, clinging onto his shoulders for leverage when he finally directed his eyes towards you.

“You fucking done yet, princess? You’ve had me waiting here for a while now,” Kuroo grunted, lowering himself down to his elbows and pushing a hand down against your abdomen. He was well aware of how much bigger he was in comparison to you. “Been inside you so many times, baby, and you still need fucking time to adjust?” He chuckled cruelly, his mocks only making your walls tighten around him. It wasn’t your fault - you wailed it wasn’t. Taking his long, girthy cock now was no easier now than it was before. No matter how many times you did it, he always managed to stretch you out until he made you his, turning the disastrous burn into pure ecstacy. Each and every time.

“I- I’m okay now, ‘s just too big…” Your whisper was borderline inaudible as he began thrusting inside you, setting a merciless pace that knocked the air off your lungs every time he bottomed out.

“You sound like a dumb whore the way you’re talking. Daddy’s cock, is that what you meant?” To your terror, he sat up on his knees, lifting up your thighs against you to gain more speed. Your back arched with moans as he rammed into you harshly, forcing you to take his full length with every buckle of his hips. “Fucking answer me, are you that hopeless of a case?”

“Yes! Yes, that’s what I meant. Daddy’s-” Cut off by a scream, your sentence got lost in a sea of heavy breaths. The low growls he emitted by your ear, coupled with the twitching and swelling of his cock inside you was nauseating. Sickeningly perverted.

Wrapping a large hand around your throat, you gasped for air while Kuroo gazed down at you with a sinister smile, zeroing in on the tears welling up. The bruising force of his hips clashing against yours was enough for you to hold his wrist in a desperate plea, begging for a breath of air as he kept tightening his hold.

“T-testu!” The raw panic ringing in his ears instantly tore his hands away from your neck, but the lifted corners of his mouth were unmovable as he pulled out all the way, just to slowly sink in back to you.

Your back pathetically arched into his touch, clit rubbing just right against the smooth skin of his defined abdomen. The way he looked down at you as if you were nothing but a used toy he’d throw away soon had your hand pushing against his chest, attempting to slow the reckless grinding of his hips.

“What now?” His eyes were so cold, only letting the slightly feral tone underneath the ice flicker through.

“Slow down, please, it hurts.” Contradicting your plea, you let it out a shameful moan when his thumb began circling the swollen bud. Oh, it was so clear he enjoyed watching you unravel under him, as if you were a little porcelain doll - the favorite in his collection.

“Princess, I don’t think I ever stated you have a fucking say,” he rolled his eyes, and the carelessness with which he threw you around in the bed - bringing you up to your knees on the edge of the bed while he stood - left an unfamiliar distaste reverberating through your system.

With another hand gripping your shoulder to keep you in place, he pried your mouth open slowly, savoring the crimson of your lips. His digits sensually pushed against your tongue, to which you responded by swirling your tongue around them. The hand previously restraining you lowered down to his cock, where he began pumping his fist up and down. Precum quickly began pooling from his tip and without realizing, your tongue had surely stuck out, ready for him to use your mouth.

At least that’s what you thought, but the moment he fisted your hair and forced you down his length, you knew it would be too much. You tried to relax your mouth, but his cock twitching inside your mouth made you choke even more. You couldn’t breathe, you only ogled up at him with tears that threatened to fall at any moment, hoping maybe he’d have some mercy. “You said you'd take it so why are you struggling, huh? Do you not want to?” He finally let go of you, and as much as you tried to compensate for the air your lungs were begging for, it was hard to even relish in the emptiness again when he sounded so damn disappointed.

“No! It’s not that, daddy, I just can’t fit you inside my mouth, it hurts,” you uttered the words as your arms wrapped around his legs, bringing him closer until his length was raised taut against your cheek.

“So everything hurts now for you,” the laugh that echoed off was strange, condemning. His cringe at the sight made your heart tremble. “I’m taking the time to train your useless little throat and this is how you behave? You should be fucking thankful, or would you rather I use my secretary’s?” You tried to listen for any sign of hesitance or teasing in his tone, but it was cold steel you heard. Shaking your head swiftly, your bottom lip quivered as his tip set against your mouth once again.

“So then why, baby? Why are you acting like such a stupid slut, as if you haven’t learned anything?” Using your throat as nothing more than a cock sleeve, he thrusted into your mouth continuously, ignoring all signs of your struggle. “You’re too dumb to remember, is that it? Maybe it’s time I throw you away and find someone new to play with.” Those were the words you lost it at, when the tears began cascading down your cheeks. Even as you sobbed, even as the oxygen barely managed to reach your blood and dizzied you, you kept him inside your mouth. Wishing - clinging to the hope that you could satisfy him again like you used to. But just as your spotted vision started going black, you were suddenly pulled up into his embrace, his arms holding you tightly against him. No, not like the claustrophobic hold he had on you earlier, but with that warm strength you were always met with when you needed it.

“I got you, pretty girl. C’mon, look at me,” Kuroo’s words were once again dripping with honey, his index finger lifting up your chin so your teary eyes could lock with his. “So fucking pretty when you cry, you know that right? Know how much I love you?” His charming smile was like a lullaby, easily dissipating every concern you had.

“Keep crying for me, angel, yeah? Wanna see those pretty tears when I make you cum.” Those words were the last you registered before he sat down and pulled you onto his lap, easily slipping inside you with how much you had been dripping onto the sheets.

Though you hadn’t come before, every thrust was worse than the previous. You were so sensitive you could feel absolutely everything - every vein and pulsing of his cock, every place where you clamped down on him, every brush of your hardened nipples against his firm chest.

“Tetsu, it feels so good! Feels so good, I’m gonna cum,” you sobbed on his shoulder, bouncing on his lap each time he plunged into you.

“Go on, princess. Cum with me, make daddy proud.”

With a kiss to your dampened cheek, his rhythm increased enough to send you both into your high. For a moment, you felt awfully aware of your surroundings, your heavy pants and the lewd sound of naked skin slapping against another. It was like the calm before a storm, right when your orgasm rushed in and cascaded over you, milking every last drop of the creamy liquid from Kuroo without even noticing.

You still trembled weakly from the pleasure when you felt Kuroo’s fingers draw circles on your stomach. It was then, when you looked down, that you discovered you were trying to keep in every bit of his seed inside you, unwilling to let any pour outside.

“Look at that bulge, too full with my cum, huh? You always do so fucking good for me,” Kuroo grunted with a smirk, the sweat on his forehead glistening with every labored breath.

“I love you,” you looked at him with furrowed brows and a pout, still unable to shake away the words from before.

He smiled briefly, wiping away the tears before cupping your cheeks and bringing you closer. “I love you so fucking much. Never forget that, okay? No matter what I say when I’m like that, you’re the only one for me. Only girl I wanna spend my life with, and only girl I want to absolutely fucking ruin every night.” His lips ghosted above yours with the whisper, merely brushing against yours with every spoken word. “Got that?” A brow lifted up with the question, seeking for the confirmation he needed to hear.

“Got that,” you smiled, taking the reins and lunging forward for a kiss.

my dumbass literally forgot abt the size kink?? i’m so sorry, i tried to go back & include it but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. thank u for the request!

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stetervault · 3 years ago

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Hiii! Been delving into Steter now, in the year of our lord 2021, even though I never really did when I was active in the fandom years ago and I was wondering if you'd have some longfic recs for the ship? Like, fics that are Classics(TM)? But happy endings! And I'm not super into those in which Stiles is still underage 😬 do u have any recs? Thanks!

Welcome to the Steter fandom! I definitely have some long fics to rec, some of them are super old lol, and I'll stick to ones around 20k or over, and most of them are finished. And hmm, considering the ship, and a lot of fics like to start off in season 1 where Stiles is still technically a teenager, I'll try to limit these to ones with Stiles being at least 16/17 before anything starts happening, and only 18+ if there's explicit content. I hope that's okay.

drowning in the sea of you by Corpium

Beacon Hills was perfect for Stiles growing up, but now, with werewolves, hunters, and an anxious best friend running around, it's turning into a place too chaotic for an empath like Stiles to handle alone. And pain killers can only go so far.

Wake Me Up by ToAStranger

Stiles has been in a coma for six years. Now he's awake.

Tremors by Corpium

(Stiles has a taste for him now. All Peter needs to do is wait.)

Surviving Peter and the Zombie Apocalypse by Nopennamesleft

Its the end of the world and Stiles has run out of luck. He saves a werewolf from certain death. Will they begin to rely on each other to survive or will the wolf just eat Stiles for a midnight snack?

Bite Down by EclipseWing

In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.

as you are by veterization

Stiles runs straight into a tree and suddenly, things are... different. Namely, he's in a world where Peter Hale is his boyfriend.

Call My Name by KouriArashi

After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.

Devil of Mercy by KouriArashi

Peter's heard people talk about what it felt like when they saw their mate for the first time, from those who actually believe in the mystical bullshit. Like a magnet, like gravity. Peter just feels... sharply curious.

Whiskey is My Kind of Lullaby by taylorpotato

Peter is a simple saloon owner on one of the outer planets between the Aaru Belt and the Olympus Galaxy. He’s done with trouble. Done with adventure. So fucking done with rustlers. That is, until a cute young outlaw named Stiles wanders into his bar. Peter has this problem where he can’t seem to resist charming narcissists (perhaps because they remind him of himself). And when said narcissists turn his life upside-down, the worst part is he’s not even that upset about it.

Proposing To Strangers by moonstalker24

At the end of a strained relationship, crime novelist Stiles chooses to hide from the world inside a bar with far too many motorcycles outside it for comfort. Here he'll meet the man of his dreams, eat food and propose marriage, all within the first five minutes.

Peter doesn't know who this kid is, but he's cute and looks like he could use a break. So he feeds him. He's not expecting a marriage proposal, but with what comes after, he doesn't really mind.

Stiles Stilinski, Disaster Chef by Guede

The zombie apocalypse forces Stiles to learn how to cook.

The Will by Guede

We are gathered here today for the reading of Gerard Argent’s will.

On the Importance of Lunar Influences in Gardening by Guede

“Oh, it’s you again,” Stiles sighs. He puts down his basket and drops the bunch of onions into it, and then dusts off his hands. “Can’t you get your own strawberries? I mean, I have it on good authority that wild strawberries? They’re a thing. They exist. They’re out there.”

“But Stiles,” says the werewolf dangling by one foot from the tree, sticky red smears around his mouth and all over his fingers. “Your berries are so juicy, so ripe. Those ones in the woods are mere passing indulgences compared to the royal feast you have in your garden.”

Genii loci Stiles and his father run a community garden, and it’s all good, except for the werewolf who keeps sneaking over the fence to raid Stiles’ strawberry patch (and the hunter who’s constantly hanging around his father).

Runes and all kinds of things by FeelingsDusk (WIP)

Enough is enough. Stiles is tired of being always a last choice when he always tries to do his best for his precious people, so they better get their act together or face being left behind.

The things in the Argent's basement get nearly fatal, the Sheriff finds about the supernatural, Allison can have a wicked, wicked mind and Peter Hale appears to be everywhere.

Oh, and Stiles can't seem to stop breaking the laws of physics with his magic.

Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter

The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.

It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

Out Of The East, Never See The Sun Rise by neglectedtuesday

In the beginning, there are three absolutes.

One. Stiles is a god, forged of starlight and collapsing galaxies and he is eternal.

Two. Peter is human, fragile bone and viscous blood and he is temporary.

Three. Stiles and Peter are in love; love that claws its way inside one’s heart like fish hooks; all encompassing love that is beautiful but dangerous.

Stiles is a god. Peter is human. They love each other.

Three absolutes.

You Had Me at Canapes by LadyArinn

Stiles doesn't mean to sneak into the Hale wedding, and he certainly doesn't mean to have cliche coat-room sex with the bride's uncle, but what had happened, happened, and it wasn't like he could just leave. At least, not until he got to have some of that cake.

Infinite Space by DiscontentedWinter

Stiles needs Peter's expertise to help stop the latest threat to Beacon Hills. And, as the pack falls apart around him, he might even need Peter for more than that.

Hook, Yarn, Sinker by pprfaith

Stiles is happy with his store, his hobbies, his friends. Peter's just trying to figure out how to raise his nieces and nephew without fucking them up too badly.

Paths cross.

Open Wounds by Guede

Talia got out of the fire with Peter, but everyone else died. Years later, they’re still struggling with injuries, but they’ve at least settled in with oddball werewolf Stiles. And then other werewolves start showing up. Familiar ones.

Bittersweet Creek by Guede

When Stiles finally steps off the westward trail to California, he’s the last of his pack. He starts building a den, but then he finds a dying man next to a burnt-down house and it turns out he’s not really much of a settler, after all.

For Great Justice! by Green

Stiles is a vengeance demon, drawn to Peter just as he's waking from his catatonia.

"Whoever did this? We will make those fuckers suffer. I promise you."

Bone Deep by ShippersList

A body in the woods, a mate, and a long-awaited revenge.

Peter had no idea how his life would change when he followed the strange pull in his chest.

Love What is Behind You by KouriArashi

Basically what it says on the label. Hunger Games type fusion. Stiles doing way better than anyone anticipates. Peter finds him intriguing. Ruthless, devious assholes working together to ruin bad guys, as the Steter ship is meant to be.

Soothing the Burn by Therapeutic_Steter (WIP)

Peter is burnt out and breaking down. Stiles notices and offers him solace, along with the one thing he wants most: Pack.

Til Death by Bunnywest

“How long do we have to find him someone?” Stiles asks. “Two weeks,” says Derek, eyebrows pulling down even further. The fierceness of his expression tells Stiles just how concerned he is. “He marries, or he goes to the camps. And you know what your father told us,” Scott reminds her. The camps……aren’t camps. Peter either finds a wife, or he dies.

Ink Blossoms by Triangulum

"So, you're going to ruin your niece's baby shower with flowers in the wrong color?" the florist, Stiles, asks when they reach the counter. He pulls out a binder and starts flipping through it.

"Not ruin. Mildly inconvenience," Peter says.

"Right, messing with a hormonal pregnant woman seems like a great plan."

"To be fair, her fiance and the father of her baby is my ex-boyfriend," Peter says. "And we weren't broken up when they started 'dating'."

Stiles looks up at him in surprise. "And you're still getting her flowers?" he asks.

"It's under duress, I assure you," Peter says. He absolutely wouldn't be here if his alpha hadn't ordered it.

"Well, shit, yeah, let's get you some purple revenge flowers," Stiles says.

After You by FlyAwayMeow (rjaejoo)

It’s true that sometimes what you want the most, you can’t have and that you’ll miss what you once had all along when it’s finally gone.

After breaking his engagement to Chris, Peter heads to New York to start over. He meets Stiles, a young author at his publishing house who helps him piece his confidence back together. When tragedy strikes, he discovers how to finally let go of his past and have the family and future he's always wanted with the pieces already in his life.

love me lights out by veterization

Stiles and Peter get snowed in together. (Or: what happens when you accept phone calls from people you haven't spoken to in over five years.)

Uncle Peter Doesn't Date by Mellow (SweetCandy) (WIP)

“Oh don’t lie, you love it.” Peter purred and winked at his newest arm candy, who spluttered for a few seconds, before blushing like a 16 year old virgin. Considering how young he looked Laura wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually 16. “Shut up Peter!” Bambi squeaked, still flushing and averting Laura’s eyes. “Well, anyways, I’m,” ‘Bambi’. “Stiles. Stiles Stilinski, pleasure to meet you- again.” Stiles smiled sheepishly, obviously nervous. Stiles Stilinski. Definitely a stripper then.

Or: Laura was prepared for whatever piece of armcandy her uncle had decided to show up with, what she hadn't been prepared for was Stiles Stilinski...her uncle's boyfriend.

Under the Songbird’s Wing by mia6363

Captivity easily destroys the will of escape. It can break the fiercest of animal. It can strip the most regal man and woman down to nothing but animal needs.

Captivity can, if met with unwavering determination, shape a person into something unimaginable.

Stiles is sixteen when he's captured. Stiles's first thought is, "I won't die here."

Baby Whisperer by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

“What. Is that.”

Scott looked up at him, apprehensive.

“Her name’s Lily.”

Stiles stared at the fuzzy head peeking out of the papoose.

“Her. Her name. That is a real live human baby. Oh my God-”

“Actually I don’t know if she’s human?” Scott said with a confused frown. “Becca didn’t say.”

“Who the fuck is Becca?!”

Sacrificial Lamb by Bunnywest

The Alpha has a scruffy beard, unkempt hair and dazzling blue eyes. The scar on his face is raised, running down his cheek like a twisting, gnarled rope. Stiles knows that it came from the blade of Kate Argent herself, and that the Alpha got it fighting in the battle where Kate killed his lover, cutting his head clean from his neck, if the stories are to be believed.

The Alpha lets Stiles look his fill, before indicating that Stiles should take the other couch, and Stiles does so, his father’s words echoing in his ears. He can do this, can be pleasant and amenable. The lives of his people may depend on it. The Alpha spends long moments surveying him, before saying, “I like you, Stiles.”

You don’t know me, Stiles wants to blurt out, but he bites his tongue.

The Various Triumphs of Mischief Bilinski by Whispering_Sumire (WIP)

"Hello, Chris," sings a honeyed voice from behind.

Chris' attention snaps toward the intruder, his gun already out of its' holster and aimed at whoever it is — a boy, apparently, with braided russet hair, a red jacket, and wise eyes. He's wearing a gas mask, but Chris can tell by the way his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way sun-burnt sand swirls in his irises, that he's smiling.

Chris cocks his gun.

"You killed my father," he says.

"No offence, but he totally deserved it," the stranger agrees with cheerful solemnity.

"What the hell are you doing in my home?" Chris demands. The kid is perched on a windowsill in Chris' office, as nonchalantly as if this were something he did every day, as if they were familiar.

"I was just wondering," the kid speaks softly, fond amusement sewn through with a peculiar resignation, "how you'd feel about putting down some nazis?"

[Or: The one where Stiles goes back in time and subsequently fucks with everything.]

A Curious Magic by Triangulum

Overall, Stiles is very well-known in the supernatural community. It’d be hard not to be, not with how his reputation has grown like wildfire. He knows and is on good terms with nearly all the fae that reside in the preserve, the asrai that live deep in the lake, the Ito pack, the vampire couple that lives over in Beacon Valley (they buy an ethically-sourced food supply from Stiles), as well as almost every other supernatural entity in the area. But Talia Hale doesn’t like him, and a werewolf pack tends to do what their alpha tells them to.

So it’s a definite surprise when the wards at the edge of his property trip, the tingling down his spine telling him it’s a werewolf, the lack of burning sensation letting him know there’s no hostile intent. Stiles, in his office in the second floor turret, sets down the amulet he’s packing up for Marin and moves to the large window overlooking the front of his property. He’s expecting to see an Ito packmember, even though they nearly always call in advance, and is surprised to see a man that he recognizes as Talia’s brother, Peter.

Light in the Dark by cywscross

It still surprises Stiles sometimes, how easily he’s adapted. Seven months in a world filled with train tracks and soul-sucking fae, and it feels like he’s never known anything else.

Or, the one where diverting the Ghost Riders from Beacon Hills to prey on a different town only succeeded in setting them free.

Vengeance Looks Good On You, Sweetheart by cywscross

Just because Scott refuses to see the Argents for what they truly are - prejudiced serial killers sitting proudly on a mountain of innocent corpses - doesn't mean Stiles will. It's about time someone did something about the Argent Empire anyway, and what a coincidence - summer vacation is just around the corner.

Or, the one where Gerard Argent kidnapped the wrong fucking person to torture. Stiles has never subscribed to the policy of forgiving and forgetting anyway, not when razing the problem to the ground and salting the earth for good measure has always been a far better solution in the long run.

He doesn't expect to have company.

#rec list #teen wolf #steter #stiles stilinski #peter hale #fanfic rec #akielosrises #ask

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jincherie · 5 years ago

Text

kiss it better | jjk

~ COMMISSION FOR @cinnaminsvga ~

✩ — pairing: jungkook x reader ✩ — genre: college/uni au, smut, cheerleader!jk, pining, borderline crack ✩ — words: 11.7k ✩ — rating: 18+ ✩ — warnings: koo takes a tumble, explicit sexual content; clothed sex, unprotected sex (not recommended), creampie, handjobs,light subby!jk, hand-holding during sex (potent), whining, thigh-riding, vaginal sex, minor hair pulling, public sex (sort of), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, light dirty talk ✩ — notes: out later than intended and a bit longer than intended !! whoops!!! i won’t/don’t charge if i go over the commissioned amount becayse that’s my bad!! but yeah. its been a hot second since i last wrote smut!! also none of my friends were awake to proofread this so….. apologies if it’s shit and has typos! its 2am! pls enjoy and lmk whast u think!!

When one goes to Kim Seokjin for advice, it’s almost guaranteed to never end well. This is something Jungkook learns quickly when he mistakenly follows treasured advice to ‘be smart’ and ‘use his assets’. He just did what he was told! Of course, the execution was a bit poor… and embarrassing. But hey, if rocking up to cheer practice in a skirt doesn’t woo your crush, what will?

masterlist | — posted; 01.03.2020

TUESDAY, SEMESTER 2 WEEK FOUR

It’s a beautiful day, the sun has just come to peak out from behind the clouds that had earlier obscured its climb from the horizon, and the grass of the Biological Sciences Library courtyard glistens with raindrops left over from the brief shower that prefaced the sun’s belated appearance. Students are finally beginning to emerge from the safety of the undercover walkways and overhangs, venturing boldly to shortcut over the grass. University life resumes, and everything falls back into its place, all as usual.

“Yah, is that Jungkook? Wait what is he—”

Well, everything except for one thing.

A red and black-clad figure slams to a stop right where two students are sitting and minding their own business outside the café attached to the back of the library—there’s no time to say hello. The table rocks dangerously on its beaten, metal leg, the impact of Jungkook’s beeline almost sending it straight to the ground if the two others weren’t already seated there to catch it.

“OW!” Jimin is never one to be quiet in his complaints, all too happy to holler his outrage at the top of his lungs. As his oldest hyung would say, no attention is bad attention. “Hey you almost jammed my fingers!”

Startled as Taehyung might have been, his focus is quickly shifted to other things. His wide eyes scan Jungkook’s panting form, taking in the clothes clinging to him like a second skin and the beet red colour of his face and ears. It’s not hard to put two and two together, but what comes out of his mouth isn’t exactly the most pressing thing he wants to ask, “Jungkook, why are you wearing the female cheer leading uniform I gave you?”

There’s a somewhat crazed look that makes itself known in the youngest’s eyes. “AHA!” he throws a finger in Taehyungs face, accusing. “So you ADMIT it’s a female uniform! Taehyung, you ass, how could you!”

Taehyung’s face is a question mark and Jimin squints, confused and still huffy about nearly losing his fingers and his triple-shot iced caramel latte that he may or may not have charmed the barista into gifting him for free. He wants to know what is going on and he wants to know NOW, damn it!

“What are you on about?” he asks, wrinkling his nose as he takes his drink into hand to prevent any future risk of spillage. “Why do you look like that time you ran the half-marathon on a dare?”

Jungkook glares at him, but it’s about as effective as it would be coming from a puppy. “Be quiet and sip your drink,” he says boldly, still attempting to get his breathing under control. Jimin considers throwing a retort back but ultimately decides against, it, shrugging and doing just that. He doesn’t want it getting warm, after all.

“Uh, yeah,” Taehyung says, sounding like he is a split second away from tacking on ‘duh’ at the end. “You asked me for a cheerleading uniform? I thought you knew some chick that needed a spare, I didn’t know you wanted one to wear.”

At Jungkook’s dumbfounded expression, Taehyung takes the liberty of continuing. “I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with it? You look surprisingly hot in a skirt, your ass looks fine as hell. But you seem kind of angry so IN MY DEFENSE, how was I supposed to know? That you wanted a male uniform? You never specified so—”

While each word that came out of Taehyung’s mouth just seemed to rile him up more, a different look passes over Jungkook’s features at that comment. “Wait, my ass looks good?” He straightens, attempting to peer over his own shoulder to catch a glimpse. “I wonder if she… No!”

He shakes his head suddenly to clear those thoughts and get back on track, whipping that same accusing finger in Taehyung’s face once more and levelling him with a renewed glare.

“Because of you, I just had the most humiliating experience of my life, and it was all in front of you-know-who!” His voice starts strong, but as he continues it shrinks to more of an angry whisper, his brows scrunched in a clear display of his displeasure. “I literally am about to commit seppuku.”

“Weeb,” Jimin utters at the same time as Taehyung asks, “y/n?” Jimin’s head whips up at the keyword.

Jungkook’s fight has all but left him at this point, and he pulls out one of the metal chairs to slump in it, defeatedly. His ears are turning crimson again as he recalls the events that had traumatised him so, and he slams his head to the table with a groan, muttering to himself in a voice that sounds dangerously like a sob.

“—stupid, was so stupid of me. I never should have asked Seokjin-hyung for advice. For actually listening I deserve nothing short of death. I’m so embarrassed I’m gonna throw myself into the lake.”

“Don’t throw yourself in there, think of the fishes—” Taehyung says at the same time as Jimin squawks, “WHAT?! You got advice from Seokjin?! He knows who your crush is? Oh my god, you’re more stupid than I thought…”

It’s all Jungkook can do to simply rest his head on the grubby-feeling table, eyes unfocused as he stares into the distance and regrets almost every single decision he has made in his waking life.

FOUR DAYS EARLIER

“My roommate,” Seokjin says, in between gratuitous sips of his monstrously sugary drink. “I think I’m almost about to get him to crack.”

“I feel bad for him,” you say, not looking up from your laptop despite the urge to gorge on your own drink. You made a goal not to look like a goblin when you woke up this morning and sipping your drink at a reasonable pace is a good start. “Being stuck in close quarters with you all the time. No doubt he needs therapy by now.”

As expected, Seokjin ignores you. You wonder if this is how he has managed not to get usurped as leader of the Contemporary Poetry Performance Club.

(To condense a very long story— he didn’t take being kicked out of the Drama Club very well. That’s on him though, he probably shouldn’t have called the Club Leader a tasteless fool for ordering a salad with his Happy Meal instead of nuggets. But, you digress.)

“I think I’m getting close these days,” the male muses, not-so-subtly making a reach for the McDonalds apple pie you have resting on the table next to your laptop. You smack his hand away without so much as a blink, more than used to having to defend any and all food from his wandering hands by this point. He continues, unaffected by the rebuttal, “Like, really close. It’s not long before my unrelenting bastardous antics wear him down and he finally breaks, spilling all his deepest secrets and confessing his long-time crush on me, thus allowing me to bring this act of friends-to-lovers pining to a close and get to the steamy stuff. “

At his spiel, you finally look at him, sporting a concerned and confused expression, if not somewhat intrigued. “… Are you talking about Jungkook?”

Seokjin chokes on the long sip he’d begun to drag up the straw, indignance making his voice rise. “NO, dumbass, I’m talking about Namjoon! Although…” He pauses only to bring a finger to stroke his chin, like a villain straight from an episode of Lazy Town, “You know, I never thought I’d be one for that harem shit, but now I think about it…”

“Gross,” you groan, wrinkling your nose. Seokjin releases a villainous cackle and you have no choice but to raise your fist in promise. He gets the message and quietens down immediately.

“No, but speaking of that little twerp,” Seokjin quickly starts up again, placing his drink down on the table. You feel an ounce of regret, knowing that means he’s about to talk for a longer time than you’re ready for. “I’m close to breaking him too.”

“He told you who his crush is?” you ask, brows raising in shock. Seokjin lets out a great sigh like the weight of the world is on his shoulders, making you snort.

“No,” he grumbles, before brightening straight after. “But! I’m getting close. He came to me for advice this morning.”

At his words, you’ve now completely abandoned whatever you were doing on your laptop and are looking at him in disbelief. “You’re lying.”

“Am not!” Seokjin denies, huffy. “He did! He wanted help making his crush fall in love with him, and so of course he came to me, Kim Seokjin, master of the heart and modern-day cupid.”

You pin him with a deadpan look. “Namjoon was out, wasn’t he.”

Seokjin’s glare is all the answer you need. He continues like you hadn’t even spoken in the first place.

“And since he so wisely came to me, of all people, and put his love life in my wise, gentle hands, I gave him the best advice anyone could possibly get.” The way his chest has swelled with pride and he’s looking all-too-pleased with himself doesn’t fill you with a good feeling. “I told him to play it smart, and use his assets.”

At first, you’re confused. “What, like… his cuteness? His endearing personality?”

“NO, dumbass, his assets! His ass! His thighs! His itty-bitty waist!” You think you hear him muttering something like ‘that lucky bitch’ under his breath, but can’t be sure. “Also, don’t think I missed you calling him cute, y/n. I’m filing that shit away for later.”

“I’ll kill you,” you inform him, but the threat has long since lost its impact. He rolls his eyes.

“Shut up, we both already know exactly how 'peggable’ you think he is.” He takes a haughty sip of his drink like he knows he’s right, and you hate that he is. “It’s not the most incriminating thing I have on you.”

You make the strategic decision not to say anything and dig your hole deeper, and Seokjin seems pleased at your silent admit of defeat.

“Anyway,” he says again, smacking the cream on top of his drink down into the liquid with a spoon. There is some fallout, but that’s never stopped him before. “Kid’s dumb as shit but pure of heart. I’m interested to see whether he will actually take my advice.”

“He won’t for sure,” you scoff, returning to your laptop at last. “Anyone who takes your advice is guaranteed to have an empty head and quarter of a brain cell to their name. Jungkook is smarter than that.”

As expected, Seokjin squawks in outrage, and it harmonises with the ambience of dead silence in your corner of the library. He doesn’t let the topic rest for the remainder of the day.

WEDNESDAY, WEEK FIVE

You think that the day Jungkook first rocked up to cheer practice at the gym a week ago at the same time you were coaching the women’s basketball team, is one firmly burned into your memory for the rest of your life. And, honest to god, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Because the boy, in all his slim-waisted, sculpted-ass-and-thighs glory, had rocked up in a cheerleading crop top and skirt.

You have absolutely no idea why he decided to wear that to his first session after joining, but you do know that while the sight of him usually makes you drool, the sight of him in that made your brain cease all higher functioning and you, in essence, became a dog. You almost barked when you saw him, for real.

Even from across the room though, you’d quickly been able to gather that he hadn’t worn it on purpose (somehow), as his face flushed bright crimson and he quickly began to look like he wanted to neck himself in the middle of the gym. Yoongi, another bastard friend of yours who through a series of unfortunate events and regrettable decisions (for him) had become the cheer captain, had been insulted that Jungkook had shown up like that and “hadn’t taken cheer seriously”, and so had given him a punishment. Yoongi said that if he wanted to rock up in a skirt so badly, then for every coming practice he had to wear a skirt again.

Had you not been busy drooling you probably would have felt bad for Jungkook, as you did later when Yoongi filled you in. As it were, in the moment you’d nearly copped a basketball to the face for being so distracted. Regrettably, you’d had to turn away from Jungkook and back to your actual duties: coaching.

Although with Yoongi being out for your blood, you have had plenty of opportunities in the past week to ogle to your heart’s desire. A real shameful amount, if you’re being honest with yourself.

“Bora!” you call, watching the girl in question halt across the gym. “Fix your footwork or I’m gonna smack you!”

The girl rolls her eyes and turns away, flicking a ponytail of dark hair over her shoulder as she does so, but listens to what you say. The familiar squeak of rubber on gym flooring fills the air as she starts the drill anew. She has a tendency to get lazy and sloppy in her movements if you don’t ride her ass, and she knows it as much as you do.

“How did you even managed to get the coaching position?” Seulgi asks from next to you, her response almost cut off by a loud racket from the cheer side of the gym. It takes all of your willpower not to fall into the trap and look over. “I feel like people like you shouldn’t be in positions of power.”

You don’t even bother arguing with her since she’s technically right and you agree. “Sheer dumb luck,” you tell her, risking a glance to the side if only to give Yoongi the stink eye. “Actually, if you really wanna know, I only went for it because Yoongi wanted it and he did something that really soured my yoghurt and pissed me off. So I applied out of spite. I probably shouldn’t have gotten the job though.”

“Huh,” Seulgi voices, eyes unfocused. “Well you’re not too bad for a fake. The team has actually been improving since you took over.”

“That’s probably because you guys went through coaches so fast for a while that for like, six months you didn’t really have one.”

“Touché.”

The only reason the girl is on the sidelines in the first place is because she’d looked over at the wrong time and caught it just as Jungkook started one of the tumbling routines, getting it almost perfect on the first go and in the process flashing his pert ass to the air and any sorry beholders. He might have been wearing bike shorts under the punishment skirt he was modelling, and he might have traded the crop top for a singlet of reasonable length, but it was still a dangerous, nay lethal sight. You’d looked over at the same time so you knew why and how Seulgi managed to tumble and trip so terribly mid-drill. She rolled her ankle so bad that as she sits next to you right now with ice on it, it looks like there’s an entire boiled egg beneath the surface of her skin. It’s kind of gross but also kind of hard to look away from.

Back to the topic at hand, there is just something about the sheer athleticism and heaven-blessed ease with which Jungkook backflips and cartwheels across the mat that turns you into a brainless slab of goo. You’re unsurprised that Seulgi got distracted and ended up hurting herself as a result of it.

The afternoon flies by and before you know it, it’s dark outside, and you’ve finished riding the collective women’s basketball team’s ass for the day. As they disperse and leave the gym at a leisurely pace, you collect Seulgi and help her towards the gym locker room to get some fresh ice for her ankle before she journeys to visit the university nurse.

The cheer squad has just about finished up their own practice, and one by one they begin to filter out of the gym. Yoongi waddles over to where you stand by the door, eyeing Seulgi with a knowing look.

“Got distracted at the wrong time, huh?” He asks, very much already knowing the answer. You give him a dirty look while Seulgi goes bright pink.

Yoongi adjusts the collar of his university sports jacket, puffing his chest out. “That’s our golden boy for ya,” he brags, sounding very much like one of the aunties and old women you find gossiping on the street near the markets. “He was born for cheer. It’s like he’s been tumbling since the day he was born. Probably even came out doing a backflip.”

You want to tell him to stop pulling shit out of his ass, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything when you agree so wholeheartedly. You’re saved from having to summon a response when in the next second, Yoongi gets the urge to turn and catches Jungkook red-handed on his way out of the gym. He seems in a hurry, moving almost like he’s trying to sneak out unnoticed, but halts at the unmistakable sound of Yoongi’s holler when it breaches the air.

“Ah there he is— Jungkook-ah!” Even while calling out, Yoongi somehow still has an indolent, lazy drawl. “Good job today! Also, proud of you for committing to your punishment. Keep it up!”

The poor raven-haired boy had already looked somewhat mortified at being singled out amongst the students exiting the gym, but now as Yoongi finishes speaking and his big doe eyes flick to the side and take in you and Seulgi listening in, his face very suddenly and violently erupts into a blush.

“Th-thanks,” he squeaks, nodding, the tips of his ears darkening to match his face. His eyes are flicking from you to Yoongi in such a way he almost reminds you of a scared rodent. When it becomes clear he has nothing more to say, he turns on his heel and flees in the direction of the locker room. For his sake, you don’t ogle him as he goes. There’s a time and a place, and he seems so embarrassed that you’d feel bad for checking him out right now.

“… He’s so cute,” Yoongi remarks a few seconds after Jungkook disappears out the door, gaze still trained in the direction he’d left. “No wonder I always look over and see you drooling, y/n.”

You agree with the first part, but honestly… you could have done without that second comment. You give him the stink eye to let him know just that, before tapping Seulgi and readjusting your grip in preparation to walk once more.

“If you’re immune, Min, you’re not human,” Seulgi says, cheeky glint in her eye. Your heart warms—you can always count on her to defend you in the face of life’s meanies.

SATURDAY, WEEK 5

It’s not often you find yourself making the long, arduous trek down the street to the apartment building where Seokjin et al. live, but it does happen on the occasion. If possible, you like to make the journey in the morning or the afternoon, because there is little to no cover on the path that takes you there and the only thing you like less than being in the sun when you don’t have to is sweating.

Still, you make the trek today, even though it’s technically past the point in the morning where you would refuse. The heat starts to come anywhere from 8 to 9 o’clock, even earlier on the stinkier days. Call you lazy, but you stick by your own rules because they work and reduce your suffering considerably.

Namjoon is one of your project partners in a random elective the two of you chose, and he was meant to give you a part of the assignment he’d been working on yesterday but, of course, forgot it. And then again today, when he was meant to drop it off on his way to work, he forgot it once more. So here you are, walking to his stupid apartment and preparing to break in because it’s due next week and you need his part to finish yours, damn it.

Thankfully, air conditioning greets you the second you step inside the building and cools down whatever heat has managed to cling to your form from outside. Luck is on your side—no sweat today, babey! In a slightly better mood now that you’re out of the sun, you follow the path your legs have committed to memory to Namjoon’s apartment.

Normally you’d rely on someone being home to let you in so you can ransack Namjoon’s room, but in his apologetic text he’d informed you that everyone is out and so with a great, big sigh you’d resigned yourself and dug the lockpicking set you received one Christmas out from under your bed. It’s heavy in your back pocket now as you walk down the hallway of the floor their apartment is on, already feeling like you’ve committed a crime. Before you can even throw yourself into thoughts of which tool would work best on their front door, you catch sight of something you most definitely weren’t expecting.

There’s someone else in front of the apartment door, jiggling the doorknob and attempting to work it. You don’t know if they realise its locked and are trying their luck anyway, or whether they’ve yet to figure it out, but while their back is turned to you they have provided you with an excellent view.

Broad shoulders with tan skin peaking out from below a muscle singlet and glistening with sweat where their body catches the light. Dark curls are plastered to the back of their neck, arms out and a tattoo sleeve on one leading your gaze down its length. He’s very athletic, you gather of the stranger immediately, and you’re almost drooling at the way his bicep shifts and tenses as he tries the doorknob once more. Your gaze finally frees itself and scans over the rest of him; defined back, tiny waist, nice butt, thick thighs—

Wait. You know that waist. The sight of it bared by a skimpy cheerleading outfit is one you’ve committed to memory.

“Jungkook?” you say, feeling your stomach dip in excitement. Does it always do that when you see him? You can’t remember.

At the sound of your voice and how close it is, the male jumps in fright and lets out a noise eerily close to a squeak. He spins, slamming his back against the door and smacking a hand over his heart.

“Oh my god,” he breathes, eyes closing and head falling back against the door with a thud. The sight is borderline sinful when combined with his damp hair and sweaty form, and your thoughts threaten to take a dangerous route before you reign them in. You smack your libido back in place— down, girl! “y/n, you scared the living shit out of me.”

A moment passes before his eyes snap open and the breath leaves him in a whoosh, and he’s looking at you like a cornered rabbit, cheeks already warming in his fluster. “W-wait, y/n? What… What are you doing here?”

Cute. If you could, you think you’d pack him up and put him in your pocket.

You ignore his question only for the sake of asking him your own—much less incriminating as a choice. “Are you trying to break into your own apartment, Mister Jungkook?”

Instantly, as you’d almost come to expect at this point, his cheeks flush cutely.

“Wh- I, uh…” he swallows and clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “No! Kind of? I went for a jog earlier and Namjoon-hyung kind of… uh… he locked me out.”

As he speaks, you’re reminded of how much you actually like his voice. It’s smooth, melodious; even when its shaking slightly from nerves. Why is he nervous? The longer you stand in his presence the more curious you become. You kind of want to tease him a little.

You hum, a smile curling the corners of your lips and one of your brows raising. “Ah, so he’s scorned both of us, I see. But fear not, little gumdrop!”

He’s staring at you in something akin to flustered bewilderment as you reach behind you and pull out your lockpicking kit, brandishing it like a trophy. “I have the solution!”

“…” He’s stunned into silence, it seems, but you don’t mind. The look on his face right now is super cute—you kind of want to pinch his cheeks. Okay, damn it, you can’t help it—you pinch his cheek and make a short cooing noise as you step past, preparing to help him break into his apartment. At least this way it feels less like a crime and more like a service.

(You sneak a sly look back at Jungkook as you pass him, and your heart squeezes at the sight of his cheeks flushing pink from your teasing action, eyes wide as they follow your form. This boy is gonna kill you one day.)

Usually you have a bit of trouble picking locks (you don’t do it often) but you crack this one surprisingly fast, and before you know it the door is swinging open and you’re letting out a noise of glee.

“Excellent!” you announce, before darting right in to search for what you came for. Namjoon left it conveniently on the dining table, so you dash over and grab the folder and USB before turning around to be on your merry way.

When you return to the door, Jungkook is still standing there, tattooed hand pressed to the cheek you’d pinched – which are bright red, by the way— and his eyes somewhat dazed.

“See you at practice later, Jungkook!” you say, waving the folder to accentuate the farewell. “Don’t forget the punishment skirt! You look too good in it, it would be a crime to forget it.”

Once you’re done speaking, you turn back the way you’re walking, missing the facial expression that accompanies his flustered sputtering of a goodbye. Your stomach still flips in excitement as you retreat, a skip in your step, and you can’t help but think it wouldn’t be a bad thing if you ended up seeing more of Jungkook outside of practice.

WEDNESDAY, WEEK 6

You’re sitting in the campus sushi place, escaping the midday heat and grabbing something to eat, minding your own business. It is, though, a nice day and you don’t mind sitting back and just admiring it. This changes when a figure suddenly comes bolting towards you from a distance and nearly bowls you and the contents of your sushi container over.

“SEOKJIN!” you exclaim, barely having saved your food from a sudden and unfortunate meet & greet with the floor. You give him a glare strong enough to kill. “What the hell! My karaage chicken!!! Dude you KNOW they only make a certain amount of these per day, you almost made me drop it and I hadn’t even taken a bit yet! Honestly! You—”

“Shut! Shut up!” Seokjin grips you by the shoulders, giving you a shake; it makes your eyes lock-on to his flushed face, his breath coming in pants from his exertion. “Shut up I have something to say and it’s important!”

“Stop shaking me!” you cry, wriggling out of his grip and leaning as far back into your chair as you can to get away from this nutcase. “And what?! You finally slipped up and Namjoon found all the secret letters you write for him when you’re horny?!”

“No, better!” Seokjin makes like he’s going to grab your shoulders again and you smack his hands away. He continues, eyes alight with something akin to glee that makes him look just a little bit crazy. “I finally did it! I found out who that twerp’s crush is! You won’t beli—”

“What?!” you sputter, your gut churning for some reason. Is the sushi you ate off? “He told you? No way he would be stupid enough to tell you—”

“Hey!” the male cries, indignant. “I resent that! Also no, he didn’t technically tell me, but I have people on the inside…”

It takes a moment for you to scan through people in your head before it clicks. You gasp. “You bullied it out of his friends?! Seokjin! Taehyung and Jimin don’t deserve that!”

“I didn’t bully them! They told me of their own accord!” He points a finger at you in retribution. “Albeit, it was by accident, but I digress.”

You’re shaking your head, returning to your sushi and ignoring the odd sensations in your gut. “This is blood information, man. I don’t know if I can sit and be accomplice to—”

“It’s you!” Seokjin blurts, sticking his pink-haired head right in your face. “The twerp has a crush on you! Finally, at least one of my shipping dreams is coming true!”

You’re so shocked by the information literally thrown in your face that you honest to god almost drop your sushi, again. You stare at the male, mouth open, as you flounder to get some order back in your thoughts.

The first thing you think to say is—“What? No way. Your info is dodgy, man.”

“Look, I know you’re sensitive so I try not to say this often, but are you dumb, y/n?” Seokjin stands back now, hand on his hip. The look he’s giving you isn’t impressed. “It makes so much sense! Why else would he sign up to cheerleading in a skirt to use his assets if it wasn’t on at the same time as whatever his crush does? Honestly, I should have seen it sooner—the way he goes bright pink every time he sees you and his eyes sparkle like an anime girl every time we mention you. I just thought he was scared of girls or had pinkeye or somethin’.”

You kind of want to smack him, but the rest of you is busy attempting to process all the information unloaded on you. Your stomach gives a giddy flip, and you decide it can only mean one thing in the wake of finding out that Jungkook’s mysterious crush is you.

Maybe, just maybe, you like him too.

…

You’re gonna pursue him.

THURSDAY, WEEK 7

It seems that Jungkook has heard that his crush on you has been leaked, because you’ve been trying to track him down and confirm it ever since last week and he’s been avoiding you like the plague. You think you see him kicking up dust as he retreats as fast as his legs will take him around hallway corners when he sees you at the other end, you catch glimpses of him across courtyards as he spins and flees in the opposite directions. A part of you wonders whether its because he does indeed have a crush on you and is embarrassed that you know, of whether it’s because he doesn’t have a crush on you and is embarrassed that you might think he does.

Well, you can’t know until you talk to him and it seems like you won’t be able to talk to him unless you ambush him in the men’s toilets or something. Which, by the way, isn’t something you’re going to do because even though your friends might be crazy, you’re most definitely not.

It was even to the point that Jungkook missed the first two practices after you found out, and you have no doubt that he would have avoided you by missing even more had Yoongi not threatened him with adding a crop top to his punishment attire should he miss another practice. He’d showed up for the next one but every time he came within five metres of you he blushed and kept his eyes to the ground, fleeing as soon as he can.

It’s a little bit frustrating, and he’s still cute when he acts all shy, but you really wish you could track him down just so you know whether its true or not.

Perhaps, with time, he’ll grow a little less skittish and let you get close enough to start a conversation. You just have to hold out hope that a moment will come that will allow you to start bridging things back together with the two of you.

FRIDAY, WEEK 7

That moment comes sooner than you expect when, just the next day, you round a corner alongside Seulgi, having just come from the women’s locker rooms, and walk straight into someone. It’s like walking into a brick wall and kind of hurts. You stumble and let out a sound in pained surprise, but manage to stay on your feet for the most part— the joy at that moment of success passes quickly when you become aware of the cool feeling seeping down your thigh and stomach.

Before even looking to see who you walked into, your gaze is directed down to see what was spilt on you— it’s light pink, and the sugary sweet scent that brushes your nose and sticky sensation that begins to make itself known on your skin are something you recognise instantly.

Strawberry milk.

You look up in something akin to horror, but the expression all but falls from your face when you see who the culprit is.

Jungkook stands there looking very much like a deer caught in headlights, drink carton crumpled and empty in his hand now that its contents are all over your front. As you gaze at him you watch the tip of his ears turn bright red, eyes wide and so unguarded you swear you can see the thoughts whipping through his mind beyond them. You also see the instant regret and mortification that washes over his boyish features as he realises what has just happened and who he has spilt his drink on.

“y-y/n—” he stutters, voice caught in his throat. Whatever he was planning on saying is quickly overpowered by an obnoxious voice from his side.

You hadn’t even noticed Yoongi was walking alongside Jungkook until you hear him speak, “Wow, you know what you were coming around that corner so hard and fast that this is on you, y/n.”

When Yoongi first started talking, Jungkook had seemed relieved, but now a sense of panic has taken over his features.

“N-no! I am so sorry! This was my fault, I shouldn’t have had it open when I couldn’t even drink it yet. I just really like strawberry milk, and…” He’s so endearingly remorseful as he speaks, big puppy eyes looking apologetically into your own like he’s searching for any hint of forgiveness there to spare.

For a moment you’re absolutely blindsided by the way he just made your heart squeeze in your chest with how damn cute he is, but you recover just in time to catch it as the shocked expression on Yoongi’s face melds into something devious and fitting for his bastardly title.

“Right, he’s right, totally our bad,” Yoongi says, doing a complete 180 and bewildering both you and Seulgi beside you. “Wow, look at your pants, totally soaked through man. Here, come with me— it’s only fair we help grab you something to change into.”

“What—” you don’t get to finish before the cat-faced bastard grabs you by the arm and begins dragging you down the hall in the direction you came from. Seulgi and Jungkook remain in place, stunned by the turn in events.

“Jungkook, head to practice and get them started! I want some pyramid practice, and then some tumbling from you and the others. Chop chop!” — is all Yoongi throws over his shoulder in dismissal, dragging you where you now realise is one of the other locker rooms. You gape at him as he walks straight up to the one that has been locked for months and opens it with a key.

Catching your expression, he shrugs. “Sometimes you just need a place of your own to hoard things.”

You don’t understand what he’s talking about until you step in and see a table in the corner near the doorway piled high with first aid supplies, twiggy sticks and energy drinks. Your bewildered subsequent scan of the room for more treasured objects is cut short when a lump of clothing smacks you in the face.

You just barely manage to fumble it into your grasp, unable to swallow your groan when you see what it is from the pattern alone.

“It’s the only thing spare,” Yoongi says, radiating true goblin energy. You don’t trust him as far as you can throw him right now but you don’t know where to look to disprove him. “Try not to get my cheerleaders too worked up.”

You have an inkling as to why he’s done this from his words, but can’t confirm it right now. You huff, moving off to one of the stalls.

“If people get flashed, that’s on you.”

Ten minutes later sees you back in the open gymnasium with cool air brushing your legs that usually only get to see the light of day through rips in your jeans. You set your team to their tasks and drills already, so now you’re left alone with your thoughts. You know for sure now why Yoongi made you change into the cheerleading skirt.

Because ever since you walked out in it and nearly made him fall flat on his face in shock, Jungkook hasn’t been able to keep the blush off his cheeks or his eyes away from you for more than a few minutes at a time. You feel slightly empowered, contrary to how you thought the dangerously short piece of clothing was going to make you feel.

You have a nice body, you’re comfortable admitting it, and the way that your unplanned flaunting of it seems to be affecting Jungkook… well it’s a nice stroke of the ego, you won’t lie, but it also makes your stomach flip giddily. God, you want him. You’ve always thought he was cute but ever since he joined cheer and rocked up in that skirt like a sweet, hot fool, it was over for you. He’s so… ugh.

Trucking through the practice of your team is, for once, a struggle. It’s so hard not to look over every few seconds to catch Jungkook when you can feel his gaze on you, and you know that once you give in you won’t be able to help being distracted afterwards. It’s a miracle you get through to the end of it while remaining sane.

As your practice wraps up for the day, you allow yourself a glimpse to the side at last. What you see is a sweaty, panting Jungkook, the muscles of his arms straining as he holds up a brunette you vaguely recall as Tzuyu above his head. Wow, you’re actually a little startled at how much arousal just washed through you— is this normal? Maybe you’re more whipped than you thought. You don’t know.

What you do know, however, is that you want that boy, and right now especially you want to mess with him. Call it a con of being around such bastardous friends all the time, but you’re really feeling the urge. You barely manage to hold yourself back, marvelling at the animal he seems to reduce you to with just a flex of his bicep.

The practice for your basketball team finishes before cheerleading; Yoongi is a ruthless coach and relentless when it comes to formations and perfecting routines. More often than not their practices end long after yours. As your girls begin to filter out of the gymnasium, the cheer squad are still going. You make to follow after, but your name is called from the other side of the gym by a voice you recognise but know instantly shouldn’t be here.

“y/n! Come here! Don’t ignore me!” Seokjin is the fiend in question, hollering at such an unmistakable frequency that you couldn’t ignore it if you tried. It’s like he’s followed in the footsteps of cats and has pinpointed the exact frequency that a baby’s cry is at, and is now using it to his advantage. You turn, wary, and see him waving like a dumbass. “Come here! Don’t make me pspspsps!”

Now annoyed, you stomp over if only so you can get within beating range. As soon as you reach a few feet away he ducks behind Yoongi though, so you don’t get to follow through on your caveman instincts to beat him over the head with a rock.

“What?” you ask, giving him a stinky look. “Are you like, stalking me or something? Why are you so obsessed with me?”

You can tell he wants to laugh, but his instinct to rile you up overpowers the humour of what you said. “You think you’re worth stalking? I don’t need to stalk you to know that your day consists almost entirely of eating, shitting, and staring at a certain ass.”

Well, he has you there. You shrug, “I’m a simple girl.”

Seokjin is momentarily bewildered that you didn’t rise to his bait and Yoongi chokes on his laughter beside you, the sound coming out squeaky. You’re glad someone is laughing, it makes your dick hard when people find you funny. Again, you’re a simple girl.

“Nice outfit, by the way,” Seokjin says. Apparently it doesn’t take him long to recover, and he’s already shifted topics.

Yoongi, who had broken away to guide his team for a moment, chimes back in at the taller male’s comment. “It’s all apart of the keikaku, man. Everything is going perfectly. My golden boy is almost too fun to torment. I’ve tasted power and now I don’t know how to stop.”

“Who?” Seokjin asks, more out of habit than anything, before looking over to Yoongi’s minions and letting out a sound of realisation. “Ahh… Mister Jungkook.”

You swear you see the male in question, who is waiting his turn to begin the tumbling routine Yoongi has changed them onto, stiffen. You’re not sure whether it is a trick of the light or not, though, because in the next second he’s shuffling forward to second in line, juggling his weight from foot to foot with restless energy. His eyes are trained on his teammates flipping across the matts.

“So you know too? y/n, you big-mouthed whore!” Seokjin exclaims, pinning you with an exaggerated look of scandal. Jungkook trips slightly in his step as he moves to the front of the line, barely a few metres away.

You don’t bother defending yourself, since Yoongi speaks before you can anyway. “That y/n likes Jungkook and has wanted to peg his cute ass since forever? Yeah, I know.”

The timing of Yoongi’s response is truly unfortunate. As he started speaking, Jungkook began his run up— and it seems that whatever snippet he heard as he started were enough to throw him off completely. He goes into the front flip kind of wonky, and you have a feeling of dread creep up as you watch him.

He doesn’t do the mid-air turns he is meant to, and instead goes to land after just one flip— the timing is off, though, and your breath hisses through your teeth and you physically cringe as you watch his ankle roll upon landing.

“Ah SHIT!” he yelps, quickly dropping to the mat and removing pressure from his foot. You feel frozen as you watch, a large number of his teammates running over and asking him if he’s okay.

“Oh feck,” Yoongi says, checking his watch as he mutters to himself. “Shit. Okay we need to practice and only have the gym for another forty-five minutes, but he needs that looked at asap. Who…”

Barely a split-second passes before he’s looking right at you imploringly, with an inappropriately devious glint in the back of his eyes.

“y/n, you’re free and you have first aid training right? Can you take him to get that wrapped and iced up?” He’s not even done asking you before he’s pushing you in the direction of the male currently curled on the floor. “That room should still be open— I forgot to lock it earlier.”

“Wait, I actually have—” you’re about to let him know about the mountain of schoolwork you have to catch up on, but of course he’s not having any of it. He’s already barking at his squad.

“Okay, everyone, back off and back to tumbling! y/n here will take care of our golden boy, we have the gym for the next forty-five minutes and we’re gonna make the most of it, damn it!”

Yoongi abandons you at Jungkook’s side, and at his command the rest of the cheerleader begrudgingly disperse— you think you catch a few of the female ones giving you the stink eye at their lost opportunity, and you know it shouldn’t stroke your ego but still it does.

“I guess this is how the Kookie crumbled, huh,” you say, embarrassed that he could have heard all of what Yoongi said and attempting to cope using the classic— humour.

Jungkook, who had turned his wide eyes and red face to you the second you started talking, now seems to be blushing harder. Evidently, for a number of reasons, he is mortified. It’s like he’s trying to hide behind the long curls that have fallen into his face. Needless to say, it’s not successful, and now both of you are embarrassed. One of you needs to take the lead.

But right now neither of you are wearing the pants.

“Alright, let’s get that looked at,” you say, wincing as you look at his ankle already beginning to swell. “Arms up.”

He obeys instantly and without question, and you’re torn between the primal powers within you wanting to both cuddle him and to drop your panties then and there.

Getting Jungkook to a standing position while he can only use one leg is harder than you could have imagined, but you know that there’s no way you would have been able to lift him had he not helped you carry his weight. Once he’s upright and his arm is around your shoulder (still panting slightly and glistening with sweat, as you’re trying not to think about) you begin the arduous journey to the locker room Yoongi showed you earlier.

Jungkook doesn’t really say anything during the trip there, and neither do you— except he has an excuse, considering he’s probably in a fair bit of pain right now. You don’t have an excuse, except that you’re trying desperately not to think about how you can feel each hard line of his body against you right now. It’s a whole-brain engaging kind of activity.

Thankfully, the room is unlocked as Yoongi said, and you grab a towel to lay across one of the cleaner looking benches on the far side of the room— just because its cleaner than the others doesn’t mean it’s clean, per se. You smile when you see Jungkook’s thankful expression.

“Right,” you say, staying in front of where he’s sitting for a moment as you shake your arms out; the boy really is just all muscle, honestly. “Pop your ankle up on the bench, and I’ll grab some ice and stuff to wrap it.”

Jungkook nods, obeying wordlessly. His cheeks still are tainted the slightest pink, and he’s making a point to avoid meeting your gaze. Fighting a smile, you move to Yoongi’s stash and grab what you need, spotting some high-end painkillers and immediately adding them to the pile in your arms.

When you return to his side, you seat yourself on the bench beside his leg— thankfully, they’re wide enough that neither your butt nor Jungkook’s leg has to be sacrificed for the fit. You go through the motions with him, poking and prodding and bending to assess the damage; it’s just a bad sprain, but damn if each watery look he gets at the pain doesn’t make you want to coddle him to death.

Surprisingly, he’s still silent as you go about icing and wrapping his ankle. You contemplated filling the silence but you’re not good at chit chat or small talk, so refrain and settle for humming softly instead. Considering the rollercoaster of feelings he’s spun you through today, you’re almost disappointed that a wrap on his ankle is all that’s going to come of this.

Which is stupid, of course. You know. You digress.

You’re still somewhat disappointed as you finish up, popping the excess bandage back in its container. “Okay! You’ll need to…”

You make the mistake of meeting his gaze, and for once he doesn’t shy away from it— there’s something about them, the endless chocolate depths and the doe-eyed look, that completely disarms you for a moment. Blinking, it takes all your might to stop yourself from studying as you continue. “Ahem, uh… you’ll need to keep it elevated, when possible. Compressing it is ideal. Also, for swelling, ice it for 20-30 minutes every 2-3 hours for the first day or so…”

He blinks up at you, and you smile. “Any questions?”

Something intriguing crosses his gaze and he bites his lip, flushing slightly. Oh, he is doing a number on your willpower. You need to get out of here.

“Yeah, uh…” He clears his throat, continuing straight away. You watch even more colour rush to his cheeks, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “About earlier… when I stacked it… Was what Yoongi said true?”

Well. You were not… expecting that. For a moment you’re stunned into silence, self control hanging by a thread. “What… Yoongi said?”

Jungkook gives you a look like he can’t believe you’re making him say it. “That you, um…”

Humiliated but deciding to face it head on, you ask him with your own cheeks heating, “Are you asking about the pegging or the, uh… the liking you part?”

To your surprise, Jungkook chokes and stiffens in place, eyes shooting wide and face and ears going beet red. “I, um… I only heard the liking part…”

OH. Well. You kind of want to die, but… at least now he knows?

…You’re gonna throw yourself off a bridge.

He must mistake the cause of your silence for something else, because he seems to panic. “B-because, um, I know you know how I feel, and it’s okay if you don’t um— I was just wondering—”

In the midst of his spiel, you take a seat on the bench, closer to him than you were last time. It only makes him grow more flustered before you press a finger to his lips to shush him. He gets the message and falls silent instantly, making your heart skip a beat at his ready obedience. God, are you an animal?! Really?!

“I was trying to track you down to confirm it, you know,” you say, shoving your embarrassment into a box in the far reaches of your mind. Time to swallow your pride. “But you kept avoiding me.”

Jungkook’s eyes are still wide. “Oh… sorry.”

You smile at his soft, uttered apology. Testingly, tentatively, you shift your hand and rest it on his hip. His whole body stiffens once more, but its more in surprise than discomfort. “What would you do if it was true, hm?”

Like a deer caught in headlights, he’s momentarily speechless. When your thumb rubs against the hard line of his hip bone, drawing a shudder, he jerks back into motion.

“Oh my god, you—” he’s dazed before he narrows his eyes at you, voice dropping to a whisper that’s somewhat tinged with hurt. “Are you teasing me?”

You manage to hold back the laugh but can’t help the smile that rises at his words. “I always get the urge to tease you, Jungkook, but it’s not to be cruel.” You lean forward, holding his gaze. “I probably never grew out of that kindergarten stage.”

It takes a second for what you said to sink in. The way that hope enters his eyes is so cute that you’re humiliated at the urge to squeal that rises. “So, you…”

It’s embarrassing to say the words out loud, especially considering the filth running through your mind right now, and you can’t quite bring yourself to. Teasingly, you bring your other hand to his thigh, brushing the edge of the skirt with your thumb and enjoying the way he shivers. “It’s embarrassing to say out loud, so if you want to hear it, you’re gonna have to work for it.”

The soft, excited gasp he lets out emboldens you to carry out your next action— you move the hand on his hip, brushing your fingertips up the side of his slim waist before bringing them back down to rest over his crotch.

To your complete and utter surprise, there is already some firmness there that greets you. At your curious gaze, he flushes pink.

“It’s the skirt,” he confesses, averting his gaze to your lap for the briefest second. “You look really good in it…”

Not that your ego needs more stroking, but you’re happy to let it happen anyway. You hum, beginning to move your hand— he stifles a gasp.

“I know,” you say, grinning. It’s ridiculous how your stomach flips, arousal beginning to trickle into your abdomen and ache in the apex of your thighs. “I could feel you looking at me. I caught you a few times, too.”

He’s embarrassed, you can tell, but the current situation doesn’t leave much room for dignity as it is anyway. Still, you can’t help but tease him some more, voice soft as you rub over his growing bulge and lean closer. “Do you always look at me, Jungkook?”

He squirms, a gasp slipping out before he attempts to send you a glare. “This is embarrassing,” he whines. You raise a brow, increasing the pressure of your hand, and he is quick to amend his response in a whisper, “…Yes.”

“And what do you imagine, when you look at me?” you ask, unable to deny the thrill running through your veins and lighting heat in your abdomen. You pause your ministrations only to move your hand to the top of his skirt and slip beneath the material. This time a moan slips out before he can stop it. “Is it things like this?”

He lets his head fall back against the wall, looking at you through hazy, lidded eyes. “Yes,” he admits, and for how readily he supplied the answer you reward him by slipping your hand beneath the rest of the layers over his hips and wrapping your fingers around his hardening length.

He whines— actually whines— and rolls his hips into your hand, thick thigh tensing beneath the grip of your other hand. The resulting wash of arousal that floods over you is so sudden it almost makes you dizzy.

“Oh, you’re a good boy,” you mutter it without much thought, but surprise filters through you when you feel his length twitch and flush with heat in your hold at the words. Ah— he likes a bit of praise, does he? You slide your free hand up his thigh, working the waistband of his skirt and bike shorts down until they rest just past the beginning of his thighs. It’s like you’re looking at a work of art, you marvel slightly— the curls that begin to trail down a little below his belly button, the sculpted line of his hip bones and the hints of his abs that show as his body tenses. You’re just one woman.

“Does it feel as good as you imagined, Jungkook?” you aimed to speak louder but it comes out sort of breathy. You trail your fingers down the tan skin of his abdomen before gripping the material of his bottoms and using the moment to free his length.

If you didn’t have such a firm grip on it, you know it would have sprung back against his stomach— you try not to let your surprise show, either, because you could feel that he was packing, but seeing it is another thing and your stomach flips in giddy anticipation. Jungkook’s chest heaves as his breath quickens, eyes boring into you and hands bunching in the material of the punishment skirt. You stroke your hand along his length, pressing your thumb along the underside and relishing in the shudder it elicits.

“y/n,” he whines softly, face flushing as his cock twitches in your hold. Whether he’s forgotten you even asked a question or simply is too overwhelmed to answer right now, you don’t know.

As for how you’re doing— you’re so turned on right now that in all honesty you don’t know what to do with yourself. A solution comes to mind quickly and you don’t have the usual self control you do to stop yourself.

Mindful of his injured leg, you rise, keeping your grip on him as you do so. His lidded gaze follows you, soft gasps escaping him all the while.

“Give me your leg,” you instruct, relishing how quickly he listens. Presented with his thigh, you swing one of your legs over the other side of the bench and rest on it so that as little weight as possible is on his bad leg, your knees brushing his hips. As soon as you’re lowered, you can’t help but gasp and roll your hips— the only thing separating you and the smooth skin and hard muscle of his thigh is the thin layer of your damp panties, and the stimulation on your clit makes your entire core throb in arousal.

Apparently this is also one of the things he’s imagined, because Jungkook lets out a low, gasping moan and rolls his hips up into your hand— which, of course, makes his thigh muscles tense and shift, rubbing oh so nicely against your clit. You almost fall off from the jolt of pleasure that shoots up your spine, free hand shooting to grab his bicep, “Ah, Jungkook!”

He apparently has the sense of mind to support you by using the arm in your hold to reach and grip your hip. Generous amounts of precum have started to bead at his tip, and you drag your hand up his girth, collecting it on your thumb and smearing it down his length for lubrication. It elicits a whine, another roll of his hips, and like that you settle into a rhythm of sorts.

“y/n.” Each gasp and moan he lets out have to be specially designed to ruin you, you decide. He seeks your gaze with hazy, lust-ridden eyes. “Please kiss me.”

It’s a brazen request coming from him of all people, and you’re all too happy to oblige. You lean forward, the rock of your hips making you shudder, and connect his lips with your own— he’d sought your kiss as you did so, craning his neck forward and awaiting your lips. It’s a heated kiss from the beginning, given the situation— you don’t fight for dominance so much as assume it from the start. Each press of your tongue, graze of your teeth, has a new sound tumbling from his throat and into your mouth. It makes your heart race even harder than it already was.

It doesn’t take long for tension to begin to build in your abdomen, and you know if you’re already feeling it then he must be even closer. Not wanting this to end just yet, you force yourself to slow your hand down, breaking the kiss and shifting to press your mouth to his neck.

“Wh-what—” he gasps, shuddering as your thumb plays with his slit, rhythm slowed to a stop. Both of you are panting, almost, and you suckle a mark into the junction of his neck before pulling back with a grin.

“Surely that isn’t all you’ve imagined, Jungkook.” You lean forward, pressing a brief kiss to his mouth before pulling back— the way he chases your lips makes your heart squeeze. “What now? Be a good boy, tell me.”

Far from being embarrassed at this point and all but a slave to the haze of lust in the air, Jungkook’s breath hitches and he responds, somewhat tentative if anything, “… ride me.”

“Good boy,” you breathe, offering him a proud smile. He preens beneath your fond look.

You shift, and you think that he must have expected you to stand up fully and remove your clothes, or at least your bottoms, but to his surprise you simply shuffle up and reach beneath your skirt, slipping your panties aside and aligning his member with your entrance. You’re so turned on that you’ve soaked through your underwear, and you know you’ve smeared enough precum along his length that lubrication will be no problem. So you simply lower yourself down until his head parts your lips and begins to sink into you.

At the sheer size of him even as just the tip enters your cunt, you have to halt, gasping, “Fuck!”

If he wanted to respond, you don’t really give him time to; as soon as you get your bearings you continue sinking down onto him. There is a slight burn, of course, but you’re so turned on that it fades quicker than you can register. The sensation of him, the throb, his girth and the way he splits your walls, stretching you more and more as you seat yourself on him— it’s indescribable, and all you can offer is that it feels so good you swear tears are gonna prick at your eyes. From the look on his face, brows scrunched and mouth parted as a long, low groan slips out, you know it must feel just as good for him.

When the back of your thighs press against the top of his his and he’s fully sheathed in you, you feel like you’re about to lose your mind— this position has him so deep in your pussy that with each miniscule shift the tip of his cock presses against a spot that sends delicious jolts of pleasure up your spine. Honestly, if you weren’t so intent on seeing this through, you think you could cum from that sensation alone.

Even as you’re in a mess of pleasure and a haze of desire, you can’t help but tease him some more. You clench your insides, rolling your hips— the sharp, lilting moan he lets out makes your stomach flip. “What now, baby boy?”

You hold his hips down with your hand, feeling them twitch with the urge to rock up into you. A long, drawn groan escapes him. “Do you want to see me? More of me? Or do you want to feel me?”

You take his hand into your hold and guide it up to your chest, slipping it beneath your shirt and bra to cup your breast. His breath hitches, lashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he blinks and attempts to clear the haze from his vision. You relish in the control you have over him until his thumb brushes your nipple and he pinches it, tweaking it instinctively. A moan tears from you, the shock of pleasure that results making you clench around him again; his free hand scrambles for purchase against your thigh, fingers digging in as pleasure washes over him in turn.

Your breath is coming a little faster now. Leaving his hand at your chest, you move it to drag up his neck before threading your fingers in the damp curls at the back of his neck. Finding a firm grip, you tug his head back ever so lightly— it elicits a new moan that you haven’t heard yet, and you really begin to think this boy will be your undoing.

“What do you want?” you ask again, rolling your hips once more. It isn’t fair of you, you know, since you can hardly think yourself from the sensations. “You want me to move, baby boy?”

He nods, attempting to speak through the moan caught in his throat. “Please… fuck me, y/n.”

Well, who are you to say no to that?

Happy to oblige, you engage your thighs and begin to rise— the sensation of him dragging against your walls makes both of you gasp, and you almost falter in your movements from the feeling alone. Gathering your wits as best as you can, you continue your movements, successfully rising and then seating yourself once more. Unable to withhold much longer, you roll your hips and begin to set the two of you into a rhythm.

You stopped paying heed to the noises escaping you a while ago, but you don’t doubt that the sinful sounds tumbling from Jungkook’s mouth as you ride him are a large contributor to the way the tension in your abdomen quickly begins to knot and bundle once more.

Even with as heavenly as it feels, it’s hard to keep up momentum when your thighs begin to burn. Thankfully, Jungkook has more than enough stamina in his thigh muscles for the both of you, and when he senses your fatigue, he brings his grip to your hips to hold them in place before rocking his own up and beginning to fuck up into you.

Needless to say, the pace he sets is much faster and much harder than the one you had. Swears tumble softly from your mouth at the change in intensity of pleasure as it shoots through you, orgasm already approaching much faster than anticipated. Your hands come to grip his on your hips with a cry of his name, knees turning to jelly.

Movement against your hand surprises you, but not as much as the sensation of Jungkook’s hand shifting to thread his fingers with yours. You honestly feel your heart burst, and as he fucks up into you that bit harder you can’t help the way you clutch his hand like a lifeline, the sweet moment quick to pass but most definitely not forgotten.

“G-gonna cum,” you gasp, eyes closing and allowing the slap of skin and Jungkook’s gasping moans to overtake your senses. You don’t forget to indulge him in some praise. “Such a g-good boy, making me feel so g-good.”

He whines at your words, and right as your pleasure approaches its peak you feel his hips stutter and slam up into yours harder than all the times before. The stimulation of that spot deep inside of you is all that’s needed to push you into the throes of your orgasm, and it washes over you more intensely than you’ve ever felt before as you clench and tense with a cry of his name.

Distantly, you feel his own grip on you tighten, and his hips still as they’re pressed against yours. Warmth floods your core, cock throbbing as he empties inside you, and you swear you hear the softest of confessions uttered to the air as he joins you in your high.

He comes down before you do, although you’re not far behind him, and for a moment you sit in place, panting and attempting to come back to your senses. He’s softened inside you slightly, but when you shift and clench on instinct as you do so, feeling cum slide down your thighs, he twitches and throbs inside you.

Taken aback, your gaze whips to him and now that his shame has returned to him, he has the decency to blush. Well, apparently Jeon Jungkook’s stamina really is no joke. Maybe he really was born to be an athlete.

“Greedy. You want more?” There’s a teasing lilt to your voice, and a thrilling mix of fear and excitement dances in his eyes.

“y/n—” he rasps, desperate. You slide off of him, making both of you groan, but return to your previous position on his thigh. He moans as he feels his own cum leak out of you and onto his skin. When your hand comes to wrap around his slick member, he jolts and whines.

“You wanna tell me what you said just before?” you ask, beginning to twist your wrist and stroke his cock ever so slowly. He shakes his head, whether at your question or the overstimulation, you’re not sure— you know it’s probably a bit of both though, considering he twitches in your hold.

“‘S embarrassing,” he murmurs, back arching as you increase your pace just a little. “Ah, y/n!”

“I see. You know, I think I can get you to cum again,” you say, changing tactics.

Jungkook shakes his head, strands of his raven hair plastered to his forehead in sweat. “I can’t—”

“You should tell me,” you say, teasing lilt to your tone. He whines, rocking his hips into and then away from the sensations.

When he shakes his head again, letting it fall back against the wall and baring the column of his throat to you, you jump on his acceptance of the situation. You pick up speed, rolling your wrist and moving in tune with the shifting of his body. It doesn’t take very long before his oversensitivity throws him into another orgasm, stronger than the last but dryer. The few beads of cum that escape seem ever so tantalising as they roll down his length, drawing your gaze.

“You gonna tell me now?” you ask, already knowing the answer. Jungkook slumps against the wall, breathing heavy and sweat glistening on his golden skin. He looks at you through heavily lidded eyes.

“It’s still embarrassing,” he whines, breathy in his exertion.

Right, well. You know what he said, but you want to hear him say it with his own mouth once more and you’ll stay here all night to make that happen if you need to.

Of course, it’s not until a while and another heated moment or two later that Jungkook realises this and gives in.

His confession is so much sweeter on your ears the second time, and of course, as promised, you reward him with your own. It’s worth it for the way it makes his eyes shine, you think.

Jeon Jungkook really has you well and truly whipped.

a/n: thank u for reading and i hope u liked it! im super excited to have completed my first commission and would really appreciate it if u let me know what u think by sending me an ask and liking & rbing this with ur thoughts!! i read & appreciate everything!! thank u !! love u !! peace out !! :D

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chrisevansfuturewife · 4 years ago

Note

Hi I have a Rafe request if that’s ok. Maybe him and Y/n got into a stupid fight about something petty so they haven’t been talking, and maybe later she faints from dehydration or something. Her and Rafe still haven’t spoken but he’s on her emergency contacts so he gets a call from the hospital thinking something really bad happened to her and he panics. Maybe she’s still unconscious when he gets there and she wakes up to him in her hospital room. Idk I just need simp Rafe because your work is amazing 💛💛

omg yes ofc!!

SIMP- RAFE CAMERON

TW: swearing, mention of drug usage, hospital, little bit of angst but FLUFFFFFFFFfff

“can you stop yelling and listen for a fucking second?” Y/N was steamed to say the least, her and her boyfriend of a little over a year, Rafe, had gotten to a heated argument about his drug usage

“you’re not my mother, I’m an adult. You can’t tell me what to do”

“well you’re hurting me when you hurt yourself like this. everytime you go out to snort some shitty coke, you’re not only killing you but you’re killing me” Y/N fights tears threatening to escape her Y/E/C eyes. “you’re just so fucking selfish”

Y/N had enough, she grabbed her jean jacket off her strictly reserved dining room chair, and walked outside into the brisk early autumn air

“where are you going?” the anger once prominent in Rafe’s voice was no where to be found in his sweet question

without hesitation, Y/N answers his question bluntly “out”

she closes the door behind her, leaving Rafe all alone in the kitchen

a few hours later

hello?” Rafe answers the phone groggily after he fell asleep on the sofa watching The Master’s golf tournament

“is this Rafe Cameron?”

“yes?”

“This is Carly, I’m a nurse at The Outer Banks Hospital over in Nags Head. I wanted to call to let you know that Y/N L/N is in the ER and you’re her emergency contact so I needed to give you a call.”

“oh my god, is she okay? tell me she’s okay”

“sir, she’s fine, she passed out due to dehydration while out on a jog or a walk it seems. She’ll be fine. If she wakes up before you get here should I let her know you’re on your way?”

“Absolutely, thank you for calling. I’m leaving right now”

Rafe grabs his khaki colored Ralph Lauren windbreaker and Ray Bans before heading outside to the jeep parked in the cobblestone driveway

his grip on the steering wheel is tight, making his knuckles turn ghost white as Rafe swerves in and out of traffic jams trying to make it to Y/N in the hospital as fast as possible.

“where is she?” Rafe asks the receptionist “I’m looking for Y/N L/N. They said she’s here”

“room 208 sir” the woman looks him up and down as he runs a hand through his hair “down the hall on the left”

“thank you, thank you”

Rafe finds 208 and opens the door to see Y/N in a blue hospital gown, her body covered in a white blanket. Two pillows hold her sleeping head, helping her get the rest she needs.

he looks around the room to notice an IV stand in between the bed and the television. Rafe takes a seat and starts looking through a few tabloid magazines to entertain himself as he waits for Y/N to wake up.

A nurse comes in to take vitals and to reassure him that she’ll be up soon

Before he knows it, Rafe is leaning back in his chair and dozing off- finishing his nap from earlier.

“rafey”

his eyes open to see a groggy Y/N smiling softly in her bed

“hey baby, you you feeling?” Rafe practically jumps up from the seat and over to Y/N’s side, already starting to play with her hair

“i’m good, feeling better”

the door opens, disturbing the couple’s little moment

“oh I hope I’m not interrupting anything” the middle aged nurse says as she walks into the room anyways “youre up! would you like some apple juice hun? some water or a popsicle?”

“I’ll take an apple juice please” Y/N smiles up at the nurse before looking over to Rafe “you want anything baby?”

“I’m all good, thanks though” he smiles a tight lipped awkward smile as he nods his head towards the nurse

within a minute, she’s back with an apple juice box ready for Y/N

she leaves again, leaving the young couple alone in the room once again

“you can come lay with me if you want” Y/N says, stabbing the straw into the juice box unsuccessfully

“baby you need your rest, I don’t want to be on top of you” Rafe says as Y/N passes the juice box to the boy for him to put the straw in for her

she takes the juice back from the charming boy and looks up at him as she sips on the straw “I don’t care about my rest, I want you to come lay with me”

“what’s next, the avengers are gonna show up and visit you at your bedside?”

“shut up” Y/N laughs as Rafe makes himself comfortable, wrapping himself around her body “are you still mad at me?” Y/N gives Rafe her puppy dog eyes as she continues to sip on her juce

“how could I ever be mad at you when you look at me like that”

“you’re such a simp”

“only for you”

“that’s disgusting” Y/N lightly shoves him away “quite embarrassing for you”

Rafe smirks, rolling his eyes

“but I love you anyways, even though you’re a loser”

“I love you more” Rafe says, kissing Y/N on her nose

I kinda completely switched it up like he was canon/ asswipe rafe in the beginning but by the time he got to her he rlly switched up on us lol anywayssss I hope u liked it i literally wrote this all today instead of doing hw cuz senioritis is hitting hard and its the FIRST DAY BACK FROM FEB VACATION SO UM RIP

#drew starkey #rafe cameron #obx #rafe outer banks #obx cast #obx netflix #rafe obx #rafe x reader #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n

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enthusiasticharry · 4 years ago

Note

Maybe one were Y/N is a virgin and Harry is her first one but he is so horny that he goes to far or something...

Try Again Later

summary: you're a virgin, and think you're ready to have sex but you quickly learn you're not.

word count: a lil’ 2.6k word blurb of smut and a small little scene that some people may find uncomfortable, so this is your warning. (not proofread again, i'm too tired.)

You weren’t completely sure about how you’d gotten yourself into this position. It was a good position, to say the least, but one that you hadn’t expected but wouldn’t change for the world. It wasn’t as though in the past you’d shy’d away from relationships, because that hadn’t been the case. You just hadn’t met the right person.

Fresh out of university, you certainly hadn’t given any thought to your love life. It was almost as though for the past three years you’d been in a bubble of your university work and not taken any notice of anything around you. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, just different to the people you were friends with.

That was until you met Harry.

It was completely on a whim that you met him, but you couldn’t be more thankful for that whim. You were in one of your favourite bookstores, flicking through the Historical Fiction category to add a little to spice to your quite bland reading habits that you’ve had over the past three years when he mistook you for an employee. You had started talking, and you obviously explained that you thought he was talented and that you liked his music and the rest is history.

It’s hard for you to believe that was only a few months ago.

“Whatcha doing?” You jump out of your skin, placing a hand firmly to your chest to calm the hammering that he had caused.

“Fucking hell, H.” You sigh, “Give a woman a warning. You can’t just sneak up on me like that.”

He wraps his arms around your shoulders in a hug, placing a small kiss to the top of you head, “Where’s the fun in that?”

He laughs as you roll your eyes.

“It’s only fun for you.”

“I know.” He drops a kiss to your neck, “Missed you, that’s all.”

“You saw me this morning.”

“That was hours ago!” He counters back, “Can I not miss my girl?”

He��s always been good at making your heart flutter, “Course you can. Just be a bit louder when you greet me again.”

“Will do.” He presses his teeth into your skin gently, “I think it’s time for you to put this away.”

You try to hide the small smile that flutters onto your lips, “I need to get this project done.”

“I’m sure it can wait.” He starts to trail his hands down your body, “Missed you.”

“I know.” You sigh, “You’ve already told me.”

“Missed you in more ways than one, love.”

Sex was something that you two had spoken about, but not a lot. You weren’t ashamed, or anything, you had no reason to be, but it was just a sensitive topic and Harry understood that. He never did anything to make you uncomfortable, he checked you were okay with everything that you two did. He was amazing.

Going into your relationship with Harry, you knew he wasn’t a virgin. It wasn’t something that you focused on for too long because it could send your mind spiralling and you tried to do that as little as possible.

It hadn’t come up in conversation un til the first night stayed over, which was a month into your relationship. Since you hadn’t been in many, and Harry had been in a few where he admitted that he went too fast and it consequently made it harder, you both decided to take it slow and you were okay with that.

Harry was human though, and he was attracted to you and even though he wouldn’t dar do anything if you weren’t comfortable, you couldn’t blame him for trying.

He was a little shocked when you told him you were a virgin, and you weren’t surprised. What did surprise you, however, was how supportive he was. He asked you questions, made sure you were okay to answer them and you did just that. You explained that you weren’t against relationships, of having sex, but you just hadn’t found the person or really had the want to do it with anyone just yet.

After finding that out, you were scared that he’d ask you to leave. Anyone would be scared of that but he didn’t. He kissed you like he hadn’t before and you cuddled and watched films until you fell asleep.

You slept over more after that, and you started noticing small things that he’d do that you didn’t know if you found flattering or confusing. You’d sometimes wake up, and you’d feel something resting upon your behind. It, of course, sparked a curiosity in you but before you could say or do anything about it, he was kissing your cheek and getting out of bad and to the bathroom.

This continued for a couple of weeks, or so, until you finally grew the balls and said that even though you didn’t think you were quite ready for sex, you were open to doing other things.

You had no idea what you’d been missing.

In the past, there had been many occasions where you’ve felt a little stressed and needed to relieve yourself. That was nothing compared to the way Harry’s fingers and tongue made you feel. It was almost as though you became addicted to his touch, and he certainly didn’t mind.

He helped you navigate your way through pleasuring him. One of the things you were most nervous about was the fact that you had no idea how to pleasure a man properly apart from what you watched in porn and on TV. Harry had no problem teaching you how to make him feel good and you eventually ended up being a pro, if you do say so yourself. Harry certainly had no complaints.

He was happy. You were happy. Everything was content within your relationship. He knew that at this point, that was all you were comfortable in doing and he wasn’t going to force you to do anything you didn’t wan to do. That didn’t mean that he didn’t think about what it would be like, feeling you around him. It was an orgasmic thought in itself.

It’s hit a point where you’re also curious. In your mind, you think you’re ready. You hadn’t spent every second of every day thinking about it, obviously, but the few times you had thought about it, it wasn’t as nerve wracking to you as you had found it. There was still a part of you that had worries and fears but you knew that Harry would do everything in his power to make sure that wasn’t the case.

You were ready, or at least you thought you were.

“This morning wasn’t enough?” Your tone is teasing, his lips parting in shock as you swivel around in your chair so that you’re facing him.

“This morning was plenty enough.” He leans forward, pressing his lips to your cheek, “I’d love to wake up with that every morning.”

This morning, for some reason, you had a sudden splurge of confidence and after feeling Harry rutting his hips into your behind in his sleep, you decided to wake him up in a way he was certain to enjoy.

He certainly enjoyed waking up to your lips around his cock, his eyes fluttering open to watch you rhythmically bounce your head up and down upon him. He felt as though he was in heaven, and he words couldn’t describe how he felt.

“In your dreams, H.”

“You are my dream.”

“Always the charmer.” You giggle as he drops down upon his knees in front of you.

He smirks, “You fell pretty quickly for my charm.”

“Not just your charm.” You counter, “You have a pretty nice ass as well.”

“Always knew you were a bum girl.”

“What can I say?” You shrug, “It’s perfect and so plump. Like a peach.”

You knew exactly where this was going. If it hadn’t been obvious before, the feeling of his hands dancing up and down your clothed thighs certainly made it obvious.

“Can I take these off?” He asks, letting his hand mess with the drawstring of your jogging bottoms.

You hum, watching as his fingers undo the bow and hook into the waistband. You lift you hips up, making it easier for him to pull the material down your legs. It hadn’t occurred to you that this would be happening today, so you hadn’t really dressed for the occasion but that didn’t matter.

“Watermelons?” You can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips at his reaction to your underwear, ones that you had bought on a whim, “Nice touch.”

“Thought you might like them.” You bite your lip.

“I love them.”

He kisses your knee, starting there and working his way up the inside of your thighs, spreading your legs open as he does so. It was slow, sweet and sensual but also had you withering in your seat. You started to breath quicker, the feeling overwhelming your senses all of a sudden.

You jump slightly at the feeling of a kiss to your clothed clit, the throbbing between your legs intensifying by the second.

“Soaked for me poppet.” He starts to run his finger up and down your centre, feeling your arousal that had started to soak through the think material of your underwear, “Got yourself in a little bit of a mess.”

“S’your fault.” Your back arches off the seat as he presses a kiss to the top of your pubic bone, “Fuck, H, stop teasing.”

“Why?” He pouts, looking up at you from in-between your legs, a sight that you want imprinted on your brain forever, “I quite like teasing you.”

“Prepare to be teased later then.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Make me come.” You sigh, “Then I might reconsider.”

“Your wish is my command, Darling.”

He presses a small peck to your clit, teasing you before he wraps his lips fully around your sensitive nub. The pressure of his lips, mixed with his tongue lapping and flicking at a quick speed you’re putty in his hands. He knows the exact pressure, the exact speed to have your toes curling and erotic sounds leaving your mouth.

“H.” You drop your hand down to thread your fingers through his hair, doing a mixture of pushing him further into your core and tugging his hair, “Faster.”

You whimper at the sudden coolness, “What?”

“Faster.”

“Oh?” He tilts his head to the side, “You want it faster.”

Letting out a groan, you push his head back down towards your heat. He laughs and flicks his tongue, up and down before sucking gently with his lips. You soon feel his finger dancing up and down your slit, collecting wetness that laid there before pushing his finger in, just the one for now.

“Harry.” Your fingers dig into the arm of your chair, “Another. I want another.”

Your wish is his command. He pushes a second finger in, and uses his free hand to push your stomach down so you stop moving your hips.

You’re unsure whether its the pleasure you’re feeling, or the way you feel for man between your legs but your muttering the words before your brain can catch up.

“I want you.”

His movements stop, his eyes lifting to look at you.

“Wot?”

You swallow briefly, “I want you.”

“Like now? Do you want me to do something else? How to do you want me?”

“H.” You rest your hand on his cheek, “I want all of you. I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?” He furrows his eyebrows, “If I’ve pressured you in any way, you don’t have to do anything.”

“Harry.” You smile, “I’m ready.”

“Fuck. Okay.”

You squeal as he wraps his arms around your thighs, picking you up and walking you towards your bedroom. He captures your lips, and you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongues. He drops you upon the bed and removes his shirt, exposing his tattooed torso to you.

You pull your shirt over your head, your nipples immediately pebbling at the cool air and the nerves that bubbled in the pit of your stomach since you hadn’t worn a bra. It was started to become hard for you to differentiate from your arousal or nerves.

“You sure about this?” You watch as he unzips his trousers, discarding himself of the fabric and the restraints of his boxers.

“Positive.” You swallow, flicking your eyes from his throbbing member, stood proud at the end of his happy trail and his face.

His eyes flicker over yours once more and you smile, offering him a small nod of reassurance. You did want this, with him of all people.

You watch in shock as he walks over to the bedside cabinet at his side of your bed, reaching into the drawers and pulling out a condom.

“Were you expecting this to happen or something?”

“No!” He’s quick to respond as he opens the packet, “I just wanted to be prepared.”

“I’m only teasing, bub.”

You don’t watch him as he puts the condom on, instead you lay back on the bed and look at the ceiling. You try to contain your breathing as he does so, focusing on the fact that Harry was going to do anything in his power to make you feel comfortable.

“Are you 100% sure?”

“Yes Harry.”

“Okay.” He hovers over you, “I’ll go slowly.”

He does, for the beginning. He watches the discomfort on your face as he pushes in, inch by inch. That is until all he can feel is you squeezing around him, tight and warm. He tries to be slow, and wait but once you nod your head, he can’t help but thrust his hips back and forward hard.

You were uncomfortable. It hurt, not as much as you thought it would, but it did. Harry was enjoying himself, and you could see the pleasure laced over his featured but you weren’t. You had a sudden urge to cry, which you didn’t think was normal but you closed your eyes to mask it.

“Fucking hell, love.”

You bite your lip to suppress a sob and that when you push his body away, uttering a, “Stop!”

Harry’s face drops, a look of concern over his features as he looks at you. He almost cries out himself when you reach for the duvet to pull over your body.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

You manage to not let out any tears, which your thankful for, and you shake your head.

“I’m sorry, H.” You shake your head again, “I don’t think I’m ready still.”

“Hey.” He drops down next to you, reaching over to take your hand in his, “It’s okay, yeah? It was probably my fault.”

“It wasn’t!”

“It was.” He admits, “I went too far, and I didn’t check on you. I’m sorry, baby.”

“H.” You touch his cheek, “It’s not your fault. It’s mine for being a pussy who’s too scared to get dicked down by her boyfriend.”

“You’re not a pussy.” He shakes his head, “There’s nothing wrong with you. There’s no pressure to do anything, okay?”

You lean forward and peck his lips, “I know.”

“I love you, YN.” He smiles, “I would never want to do anything that would upset or hurt you. I’d hate myself.”

“I love you too.” You beam.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod, “And you didn’t do anything to hurt me, I swear.”

“Good. That’s good.” He drops his head to your shoulder, “We’ll just have to try again later.”

“Try again later.”

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles drabble #harry styles smut #virgin!reader

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x-reader-fanfics · 4 years ago

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Heyyyy :) I saw your last post w dataxreader, and I was wondering if you’d do another? I LOVED it 😍 maybe one where reader and data aren’t in a relationship yet, but he gets super jealous when someone hits on reader, and then mutual feelings come to light? Eeeek thank you, and if u don’t wanna do this one right away I understand cause u just did one, but thank u anyway, and I love your writing ♥️

🖤 Malfunction 💛

Summary: When a new Ensign takes a romantic interest in you, a new light begins to shine on the seemingly simple relationship between you and your closest friend Data.

Requests are open!

~x~

Data had always preferred working with you.

You understood the nuances of his coding and his odd personality in ways no other officer ever had. Where most would have been confused and perhaps even discomforted by his unusual behavior, you had always found it fascinating, even going so far as telling him it was charming.

“I like hearing things from your perspective. You say such wonderful things, Data.” You had laughed, bumping his elbow with your own as you and him worked for hours side by side.

You were his partner, the completing half of his equation. No one else would get the question right. He needed you, and you needed him.

“Good morning, Data.” You smiled warmly, sliding into his side as you began your shifts together as you always had, greeting him the same way you always had before, kind and soft.

“Good morning, (F/N).” He welcomed you back, cordial and quiet.

Mornings were the moments you always shared together, the small smiles and quick touches which insinuated more but never dared to be recognized aloud.

“I barely slept last night.” You sighed deeply, gently resting your head against his shoulder as your eyes fluttered shut. You reminded him of the Renaissance angels he had often seen in ancient Earth paintings. He should do a painting of you.

“Perhaps a visit to Dr. Crusher would be beneficial.” Data commented idly, refusing to move even slightly, hoping it might persuade you to keep your head buried in the crook of his neck for even a millisecond longer.

Touching you was right. Being with you was right. It was unexplainable, but it was akin to answering a complicated question correctly, or finishing a long project. It was what he had been made to do.

“Hey beautiful.” An unknown voice interrupted Data’s rampant thoughts, causing his golden eyes to flicker toward this intruder into you and his peaceful morning.

“Oh. Hey, Brad.” You slightly sighed, bowing your head politely at him before returning to your work.

“A couple of friends and I are having a party tonight at Ten Forward. I’d love for you to be there.” He grinned, his smile all teeth and his eyes shimmering a bit too brightly.

“A party in Ten Forward. I had not heard of this before now.” Data easily inserted himself into the conversation, cocking his head as he stared questioningly at the Ensign.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Brad rubbed his neck awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable around the android. “There’ll be girls there too. If you’re even into that sort of thing…”

Data missed your eyes shooting towards his, a hopeful but anxious look dancing across your face. You had wanted to admit your feelings to your friend for months now, but your anxieties about his own feelings had always held you back. How could he possibly be interested in other people in such a way? He didn’t even have emotions.

“Tell your friends I will be there.” He smiled, over-animatedly winking as he returned to his work, a small but proud smile on his face. He needed to watch over you and make sure this Brad didn’t try anything which might make you uncomfortable. You were his partner to care for, he nodded satisfactorily within his head, as if needing to justify his abnormal behavior to himself.

You could feel your heart shatter. Data wanted to go to Brad’s stupid party? To pick up girls? You were planning on simply turning the man down and having a quiet night in, but now that Data was going…

“Well you can count me in too.” You had to force yourself to smile, fighting the urge to gag at the way Brad licked his lips and winked at your response. He sauntered away like the cat who had caught the canary, your hands itching to strangle him as you twisted back to your work station, a cheesy smile still plastered to your face.

“Are you interested in Brad sexually?” Data asked with a pleasant smile.

Your mouth fell open, your breath flooding out of you as a wild blush stained your cheeks, hot and embarrassing. You didn’t know what to say, you couldn’t even breathe!

“W-Why’s any of that your business!” You half-shouted, darting away before he could pry any deeper.

You couldn’t handle it if Data found out you were in love with him.

Ah. Data mused, each and every one of his circuits freezing on one overly-simple thought. It would appear you loved him.

~x~

You hadn’t spoken to Data all day. You were too ashamed to even consider facing him. Running away in the middle of your shift because of your personal feelings was not something a professional Starfleet officer did.

“If I may be so bold,” A familiar voice began, soft and warm in its cantor, “You are positively ravishing this evening.”

Data stood before you, an out-of-character smirk striking daringly across his face as he took your hand in his, lightly grazing his lips against your knuckles.

“Data!” You gasped, barely able to keep yourself from becoming a melted mess.

“What are we doing talking over here when we could be dancing over there?” He smirked, grabbing your waist as he pulled you by the hand towards the dance floor, a grace to his every step.

“What happened to you Data?” You asked, practically breathless.

“I downloaded some new personalities appropriate for such an event.” He dipped you low, brushing his nose against yours as he started deeply into your eyes. “Are you enjoying me?”

You couldn’t help but laugh then, carefree and dripping with affection.

You loved this man.

“Yes, Data. I always enjoy you.” You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck right in the middle of the dance floor.

Data felt accomplished. Everything was as it should be. You were always meant to be with him, and no one else. It was just what made sense.

You were his closest friend.

“Data, there’s something I’ve always wanted to tell you, but I’ve never really been able to.” You grasped his hand tighter in yours, unable to remove your eyes from the floor.

“What is it?” He asked, patient and quiet.

“Pardon to interrupt, but I couldn’t let you keep this beauty all to yourself for the whole night.” Brad smiled confidently, bending his face closer to yours as he attempted to slide between you and Data.

Data refused to budge, pulling you closer against his body. He barely stopped himself from shoving the Ensign across the room.

What was going through his systems? The more Brad talked to you the more Data wanted to never see his face again. The closer Brad got to you the closer Data needed to be to you instead, as if to reassure himself of something.

Any smiles you afforded Brad were meant to be his. He didn’t want you to look at anyone but him.

But such thoughts could only be defined as possessiveness. Something Data knew was inappropriate for friendships.

He released you, giving you one last glance before quickly leaving Ten Forward. He couldn’t bear to see his hands on you, to see the love which would pour out of your eyes for the handsome human, something Data could never compare to.

People did not fall in love with androids.

Even as his system screamed at him to correct things, to take you in his arms and kick Brad halfway back to Earth, he refused to listen. With some simple rewiring he could set his head back on straight.

You were his friend. Somewhere along the way his pathways must have set the wrong link down, convincing himself you might be something more.

His feelings for you were nothing more than a malfunction.

You watched as Data stormed away, confused and hurt by his behavior. One moment he looked ready to clock Brad and the next he was almost throwing you at him.

Did he think you wanted the slime bag?

“He’s never not said goodbye to me.” You muttered almost to yourself, staring after your best friend.

“Maybe he just forgot to.” Brad joked, grabbing you by the hips. “Let’s stop talking about that android and start talking about us.”

You scoffed at him, harshly shoving him away as you ran after Data. You were going to tell him no matter what it took, everyone else on this ship be damned.

You eventually found him in Keiko O’Brien’s garden, his face almost forlorn as he gently caressed an orchid in full bloom.

“Data?” You asked quietly, not wishing to startle him even though you knew that was impossible.

He turned his head to yours, almost in disbelief. “Where is Brad?”

“I don’t know, he’s nobody I’m concerned about.” You stated clearly, stepping towards him. He was so tall, the way he gazed down upon you with such genuine confusion causing you to smother a giggle.

“I do not understand, but it is not a topic I wish to hear more about.” He admitted, returning to his flower.

“And why is that?” You asked hopefully, bunching your dress between your fingers.

He glanced back at you, face blank as he simply contemplated himself, the color of your hair and the look on your face enough to push him over the edge.

“Because I am malfunctioning.” He said simply, stock still as he waited for your response.

You took his hand in your own, holding it as gently as a bird as you squeezed it to your chest. “What if I told you I was malfunctioning too?”

His brows furrowed across his face. “Then we must see Dr. Crusher at once!”

Your jaw dropped, disbelief to the point of amusement dancing across your face as you watched the worry on his face slowly seep into bewilderment.

“I’m not talking about my health, Data.” You laughed, sliding your fingers against his scalp as you pressed your body flush to his. “I’m telling you I’m in love with you.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Before you could react he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, pressing his lips against yours hard enough to bruise. He wanted you so badly in that moment he had forgotten to restrain himself, pressing against you fervently as he began to kiss the corner of your mouth, sucking and biting his way to your neck.

He couldn’t believe you would say such a thing to him, that you would allow him to do this. It was such a thrilling and new interaction he couldn’t get enough of it.

Without hesitation he pulled your flesh between his teeth, proudly marking you as his as he bruised your neck.

“Data…” You moaned, unable to do anything but limply hold onto him, knowing he would never let you fall.

“My (Y/N).” He whispered happily against your hickey, giving it a quick kiss, before standing back up properly, still refusing to release you from his hold.

Your whole body felt like jelly. Just from a few kisses Data had swooned you off your feet.

“You are so handsome.” You sighed, not knowing anything else to say but exactly what had been on your mind since you had first met the android.

“And you are so beautiful.” He murmured back gently, knowing he would spend the rest of his life saying those words.

#onlyyoudarling #request #data tng #tng #star trek #star trek the next generation #data #data x reader #data tng x reader #im so sorry this took so long #but i finally finished my semester so I have time to write now #I really hope you enjoy it!#thank you so much for enjoying my writing #fanfic #x reader #x reader fanfics #jealousy #fluff

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renaerys · 3 years ago

Text

PPG One-Shot: A Balmy Tuesday in Hell

Taking a break from the prompt requests to wish a very happy birthday to @snailbutters! Tbh I like this idea a lot and I’m tempted to expand on it more. Cross posted on AO3.

xxx

When Mike went looking for a part-time job to earn some spending money, he had a hard time finding one that worked around his college class schedule. All the good on-campus jobs were taken, and most of the ones he found offsite required him to be up way too early or way too late with very little flexibility.

The front desk position at the Beelzebob, a local hair salon advertising an array of “wicked styles” for any occasion, was not the most glamorous position, but it welcomed part timers and offered flexible schedules to be discussed on a case by case basis. It was at the tail end of a long week of job hunting with little to show for it, and Mike was tired. Still, he dragged himself all the way there after his three-hour Friday seminar and put on his best retail charm for the interview.

One of the stylists told him to wait in the lobby while she grabbed the manager for his interview, and so Mike sat in a plush, purple chair and eyed the stack of magazines on the coffee table—HJi, Professional Beauty, NHF, and others he recognized from Googling “how to work at a hair salon” last night. A playlist that seemed to consist entirely of K-pop pumped ripples of bubblegum bass through the speakers and had Mike tapping his fingers on his hip. There was no one behind the sleek, glass reception desk, so Mike got up and wandered over to it. He tried to imagine himself with the headset on, fielding phone calls and helping customers pick out one of the many luxury hair products on the walls behind the desk. He touched his own brown hair—plain and getting a bit long, but styled with a little wax for the day—and worried about whether he should have tried a bit harder for this interview. Would he be judged on his own hair? That seemed reasonable enough—

“This simply won’t do.”

Mike startled at the lyrical voice and turned around to find a seven-foot, red-skinned demon in Lululemons appraising him over an enterprising nose. Which would have been a cause for mild to moderate alarm even in Metroville—a hub for lowlifes, Supervillains, and the occasional monster on a mission out of Townsville farther north—except that Mike recognized this particular demon. At which point he got the pun in the name of this place and smiled.

“Him,” he squeaked. And then, remembering his high school retail training: “I mean, Mr. Him.”

Him—Prince of Pestilence, Duke of Depravity, Earl of Evil, et cetera—blushed the color of an open wound. “You’re house trained, I see. All right, this way.”

Him turned on his Louboutin heel and headed into the salon. Mike hurried after Him, unsure whether this was good or bad. Him led him to a styling chair and sat him down. A purple salon cape made its way around Mike’s neck with a flamenco flourish, and Him leaned over his head in the reflection.

“What are we thinking?”

Mike eyed his potential future employer from perfectly curled goatee to artificial mink lashes and hesitated.

This is a test.

It had to be. Surely, anyone manning the phones had to know something about haircare in general. If he was to be the vanguard, the watcher on the Wall, he would have to be able to alert his colleagues of the incoming threats and answer questions about how to fend off anything from tangles to split ends. Mike tried to remember the last time he got a haircut; Boomer had been with him, his eye far more discerning than Mike’s.

“Comb over,” Mike said.

“Quiff?”

“More faux hawk.” He tried not to think of the heat on the back of his neck, and instead of the sly grin on Boomer’s face the last time he’d been under the scissors. “With a low fade. Um, please.”

Him’s fangs gleamed when he grinned. “Good choice.”

For a demon with claws the size of dinner plates, Him was surprisingly adroit and precise to a literal razor’s edge. In fact, Mike was certain Him must sharpen his claws to get them sharp enough to shave the hair from the nape of his neck, which seemed like a sensible time-saver. Blackpink’s Pretty Savage blared over the speaker as Him coifed and styled the thicker locks that remained on top of Mike’s head, combed to the left in enviable, anti-gravity perfection.

“Wow.” He touched the side of his head, marveling at the close but generous cut and the perfect blend. “This has to be the best haircut I’ve ever gotten.”

He got up and removed the cape, only to find Him with a broom in his claw. “I run a clean salon, Michael.”

Mike accepted the broom without question. “Yes, sir.”

Him preened. “Good lad.”

“Does… Does this mean I got the job?”

Him flipped his claw. “There will be a trial period. You young people are so used to texting that I’ll have to determine if you’re fit to answer a phone. But, considering your manners, I have a good feeling about you.”

Amazing! “Thank you so much! When do I start?”

“Honey, you’re already late. I have customers waiting.” Him snapped his claw. “Chop chop.”

Mike swept up his shorn hair and the hair around the chair next to his, dumped it all in a bin labeled “Hair,” and ran to the front desk to answer the phone ringing off the hook. The stylist who’d greeted him, Marisol, helped him with the computer login so he could manage appointments and checkout. It was easy enough, a Square card reader and a cash register and a huge logbook of every sale.

“Middle finger up, F-U, pay me,” Mike whisper-rapped along with Lisa.

A couple hours later, Him handed him a check for the time worked and told him to be back here tomorrow at 3 p.m. Mike accepted the check, but he didn’t pocket it.

“Sir, I should tell you for the sake of full disclosure.”

Him peered down at him with his claws on his hips. “Oh?”

This should not be so hard.

“I’m, well, I’m involved. With your son. Boomer.”

Him clicked his claw, and Mike held his breath.

Boomer had spoken about Him—Baron of Brutality, King of Chaos, Emperor of Enmity et cetera—on just a few occasions throughout their acquaintance. Raising souls from the dead was a hobby of Him’s, apparently, but often his necromantic offspring ended up rotting and were no fit candidates to promenade in civilized society that wasn’t eternally damned and burning. Chemical X cut out that inconvenience, and thus the perfect little boys were reborn, or something. According to Boomer, Him was evil on Sundays, a prolific genius on Tuesdays, and crocheting with his kobolds on Fridays. The rest of the time he was just a normal demon trying to survive in this capitalist post-modern society like everybody else. Anyway, Sunday wasn’t in Mike’s work schedule, so that seemed safe enough.

“I know,” Him said. “You don’t expect me to believe you’d Googled the most flattering hairstyle for your bone structure without help, do you?”

Mike was pretty sure there was a compliment in there, even if it wasn’t for him. “I guess not.”

Him beamed. “Don’t worry. I would never let my favorite son’s romantic life influence the culture at Beelzebob. You’ll be judged before an impartial tribunal of incubi, like everybody else. Now, before you go, I’d like you to dispose of the waste, please.”

Mike learned the value of separating trash that day. Discarded receipts and candy wrappers dumped in the waste bin went into the trash, lunch leftovers went to compost, and cut hair went to sacrificial offerings.

“Sacrifices reduce our carbon footprint and offer protection against flat Earthers. It’s a proven science, you know.”

Mike supposed it would be poor manners to argue with an ancient evil on his crochet day.

xxx

Boomer was all sly smiles and discreet hand touches when Mike treated him to dinner at their favorite Thai place later that week.

“So, your job seems to be paying well,” he said.

“Well enough to take my boyfriend out to a nice dinner now and then.”

“Careful. Spend too much time with Him and your tastes will get really expensive.”

Mike laughed. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll switch majors to cosmetology and join the family business.”

“You know what? He’d probably love that. He tried so hard to get Brick to follow in his footsteps, but Mojo let him mess around on his E-Shares account once when we were eleven and Brick was lost to the finance track forever. I’m pretty sure Mojo did it on purpose.” Boomer leaned in and clinked his wine glass to Mike’s. “Anyway, buy me this dinner before you jump to joining the family business.”

Mike flushed. “I’m—I didn’t—”

Boomer laughed. “Chill! I’m just messing with you.”

The playlist at the restaurant began playing Blackpink’s Kill This Love, and Mike burst out laughing.

“What?” Boomer asked. “You like this song? You know, Him is really big into K-pop lately. Butch thinks someone must have sold a bunch of souls and made a killing.”

“I know.” Mike kissed Boomer’s hand. “It’s just funny how things work out.”

Boomer smiled. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

Their food arrived, and Mike happily ate his meal across from Boomer. And in the back of his mind, he said a little thank-you to Him and whatever chaotic forces he controlled for reviving Boomer all those years ago.

It must have been a balmy Tuesday in Hell.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

#powerpuff girls #powerpuff girls fanfic #boomike #ppg boomer #mike believe #ppg him

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tenacityreturns · 3 years ago

Note

“you’re so fun to talk to.” u know who

drabble: when aomine and kagami are trying to study, kagami finds something out about his boyfriend’s hobbies and is about as annoying as he possibly could be about it. they’re really stupid in this :) word count: 1967

it is a well established fact that logic is not a universal language, spoken by one and understood by all. a correct statement may be reached through an infinite variety of patterns of correct statements made in just the right order to conclude with the right answer. more or less. but there's beauty in the way that different people can come to the same conclusion. some can eliminate obstacles with lightning fast deductions, made faster than the individual can keep up with. some talk through their thinking even if there's no one to hear it, because their thoughts become more tangible when spoken aloud. others take a scenic route, using their senses and past experiences to bring to life the problem at hand. usually, people approach different problems with different methods.

kagami taiga's own brand of logic is colourful. he remembers things if they're attached to a sense, which is why the minute details of learning a language are lost on him, and why nothing ever sticks in history class. the teacher is a real downer and delivers everything straight from the text book without any real world, practical application! how is he supposed to remember anything if he's taught like that? and it's on that topic that this afternoon relates to. homework. more specifically, kagami and his boyfriend are studying together under oath that they will not go out to play basketball until they have finished at least question 5. and momoi made him promise. aomine promised too but he's thrown his book on the other side of the room, or got up to get snacks from the kitchen, or demanded that kagami pay attention to him all in the space of the hour they'd been sitting down.

kagami hates tests, and he hates having to remember useless details about things that will never affect him. so he’s making links in his mind to the most important dates to help him remember. some get attached to the amount of reps he’d lift this week ( 3 sets of 16: 16:03. 1603. ) or, for some reason, flexing his fingers to count out the year helped earlier with 1615: he extended his index finger, then thumb, then index, then all five fingers. he won’t do that with any other dates in case he gets confused, but that’s pretty good, right?

“we’re both just gonna play basketball forever, right?” aomine whines, chucking his book across the sofa. “why the fuck do i have to learn all this shitty math stuff?”

“doesn’t midorima use math in his basketball?” kagami muses disinterestedly, never looking away from his own book. there’s no reason kagami thinks this besides that he knows midorima is smart, and a dork, so it just makes sense. kagami lowers his voice and holds his hand up to the bridge of his nose, where glasses might be. “i must calculate the arc of my... trajectory... to...”

“yeah,” aomine replies flatly, unimpressed at the frankly scarily good impersonation. "what do i care if he does? i use raw instinct, baby.”

“kinda embarrassing not being able to go to a game cuz you fail this class, though,” and now kagami glances up to see aomine glaring hotly at him, and does some quick damage control. “like me! jeez. don’t look at me like that. you think i like doing homework either? my head hurts.”

“you should take a break.”

“no, i’m only on question 3 now.”

“hurry up, history isn’t hard.”

kagami grunts and returns to his studies. a few minutes later, he’s googling to see if this is a name or a word he just doesn’t recognise. it’s a name. ugh. he writes the name down twenty times to get each stroke right. it doesn’t look right. his handwriting is so shitty. he glances over to aomine’s and it’s messy but it has charm to it. kagami’s is literally just illegible. his english handwriting is a little better, at least he has that to fall back on! hey... what aomine’s writing isn’t math! it’s... the events of the day? that they went shopping earlier and are now confined to the humbly dressed penthouse apartment of his boyfriend. hey! who are you calling humbly dressed? kagami reaches across the table to point at aomine’s paper.

“that ain’t math!”

“mind your own business,” aomine scrambles to flip the page. kagami isn’t interested enough to debate it and gets back to his own work, then comes up with a retort.

“it’s my business if i’m finished with this test paper and you’re still two questions behind.”

“i have my methods.”

“okay but you’re supposed to be doing math, and writing in your diary can’t possibly help with that.”

“it ain’t a diary,” aomine scrunches his nose in disgust, “shut the hell up.”

his weak defences aren’t interesting enough for kagami to push against. so the guy’s got a diary, who cares? he’s staring at him as he decides whether or not to pursue the diary thing. aomine stares back at him. squints. kagami squints right back! aomine’s chin tilts upwards. he’s trying to cover being embarrassed about it by acting like he’s not. that’s fair enough. kagami exhales a breathy chuckle and breaks off their glare game.

“jeez. i don’t care if you have a diary, dude. i only care if i can’t play you next tournament ‘cuz your dumb ass failed all his classes.” but then something occurs to him to bring his attention back. his eyes half close tauntingly, a shitty smile pulling at his mouth. “you write about how much you love me?”

“as if!”

wrong answer! kagami, deciding that he doesn’t care if his idiot boyfriend passes his tests anymore, chucks his textbook off his lap and lets it fall in a loud heap on the floor. one hand on the back of the couch, he moves closer. “you already told me i give you butterflies.”

“don’t use that against me, you douchebag.” aomine shoves his diary behind his back, as if that’s a good enough defence?! kagami doesn’t even want to read it -- isn’t convinced he could read the guy’s charming handwriting. he has simply chosen violence. “i didn’t even say it like that, anyway!”

“dear diary,” kagami lowers his voice and continues his slow approach across his sofa, “taiga kissed me today, been on cloud nine ever since.”

“i hate you right now.”

“dear diary, i love tits.”

“wait, you read it already?”

kagami laughs. derailed! he’s supposed to be the one joking around here! aomine repositions so that his back is against the armrest, diary sandwiched between, with his knees up. you big baby! he really thinks kagami’s gonna steal the book? it kind of makes him want to but not enough to piss him off about it. aomine’s watching him carefully, sussing him out. kagami kneels, sinking into the couch cushions.

“i don’t wanna read your diary, daiki. put it on the ground a second.”

“how stupid do you think i am?”

“if i wanted it, i would’a already got it!”

“oh, you think you’re a big man, huh? you can just take what you want?”

“is that a challenge?” he puts his hand on aomine’s knee and shoves it. “get these outta my way, i’m tryin’a make a move on you.”

“oho, are you serious? sure, let me just let down my guard and--” kagami interrupts him by pushing his knees down, and then immediately climbing on top. aomine straightens his legs out and slides further down the couch. “you were serious.”

“do you write about me?” kagami positions his hands on the sofa deliberately away from aomine’s stupid book. he’s actually not going to steal it, yet the guy still has his hands tucked under his back to protect it. “if you’ve got something to say to me,” he lowers to kiss aomine’s jaw. “you should say it to my face.”

“your mind is too little to comprehend it.”

kagami pulls up. “do you wanna get outta my house?”

“you’ll say it’s stupid, so why waste my breath trying to explain myself?”

“daikiiii,” he’s smiling as he drops down again to hold his hand against aomine’s cheek and kiss the other side. “i think you’re stupid if you tell me or not.”

“you’re so fun to talk to.”

“i’m kidding, baby,” said more as an insult than a term of endearment, mind you. “don’t tell me, then.” here’s a kiss to prove he doesn’t care about the diary, here’s one because he feels like it, and here’s another just because.

“you really wanna know?”

“no,”

“it ain’t a diary,” aomine pulls his hands out from under his back. the book is in his grasp, but it isn’t directly offered, either. kagami only glances at it. “it’s for my memoirs.”

“your memoirs?”

“see-- that’s why i didn’t tell you. get off me, fatass.”

“no, i mean, i’m just surprised! i never met anyone writing that kind of thing before.”

“i knew you wouldn’t get it.”

kagami lifts himself off aomine but doesn’t go far. “that’s cool, so you’ll write about basketball and stuff?”

aomine doesn’t reply, he just sits himself up and stares at the pale blue notebook grasped in both hands. kagami’s expecting him to say something, maybe explain himself, but he doesn’t. he just sits there. kagami leans closer.

“would you lighten up? i said it’s cool, right? why would i think that’s stupid? and you shouldn’t care what i think about it, anyway, if that’s what you wanna do.”

“save the lecture,” aomine looks like he’s cheering up!

“i was thinkin’ you’d wanna make notes,”

aaaand there’s a deadpan. he retrieves his pen from between couch cushions and opens his notebook, vigorously writing something. peering over his shoulder, kagami reads: dear diary, my boyfriend is a jackass. as if to prove a point, kagami shoves him.

“hey! come on, give me a break. i think you’ll be a best-seller. you’ll be able to tell people what it’s like growing up as a prodigy. i mean, i wasn’t always strong,” kagami sits back in his seat, “but it sure gets lonely once you surpass your rivals.”

“not always,” aomine replies quietly, “some people never know when to call it quits.”

before he actually thinks it through, kagami’s brows raise in question. who could he be talking about? aomine, who had been looking at him in a sideways glance, now turns his head to display the full effect of a disapproving frown. oh! right. him. there are a few other guys who pop into kagami’s mind, but who the hell needs them? he snorts.

“oh, yeah. count on that, buddy. i’m gonna be here for every chapter.”

“that was so cheesy,” aomine drops his notebook and pen on the floor ( with a little more care than kagami did earlier with his text books ). next, he pushes against kagami so that he lies down the other end of the couch, and soon enough, aomine’s climbing on top. “i’m gonna make you pay for the dear diary comments.”

“i’m so scared.”

that earns an eyeroll, and maybe that’s fair. he wraps his arms around aomine’s waist nonetheless, and smiles as he’s kissed. if someone would’ve told him a year ago that he’d be making out with a powerful rival--- actually, that sounds pretty predictable. but this one, of all people? kagami used to think he was the most annoying, loud-mouthed bastard he’s ever met! and--- again, that’s still his opinion. he’s just come to accept all that. ah, his thoughts make him break the kiss with a bigger smile. it’s all bullshit.

“you know i think you’re the coolest guy i know, right?”

“you know i know it,”

“shut up, daiki.”

and for a few minutes, aomine does shut up.

#aonon.#drabbles.#answered.#okay i FINALLY finished this #i was gonna make it sweet abt the prompt and then. well. i remembered who i was writing for :(#anyway this is stupid as HELLLLLL #and longer than i meant it to be #as always #icons are SOOO MUCH FUNNNN #definitely gives off the vibes of rping w/ myself but also ? im living out here young wild and free

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isolemnlyswearpevensie · 4 years ago

Text

You’re Not Mine | Peter Pevensie x Reader

Warnings: Jealousy ig? A lil angst if you squint

Time/Era: Golden Age

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: When two foreign royals take interest in Peter and Y/N, jealousy arises.

Requests: 1) hi :) i was wondering if you could maybe do a jealous!peter x reader ?? not enough of those hehe thank u so much

2) If possible can you do a peter pevensie x reader where the reader gets jealous clingy due to another queen from another royal kingdom flirting with him if that makes sense idk if it does but yeah 😂

A/N: Hi! I hope it’s okay I combined these two :) They’re quite similar so I thought they would work well together! Enjoy! Also, the Prince and Princess obviously don’t exist in canon, but they do in this story lol.

masterlist | narnia playlist | read on ao3

It was an unspoken agreement that Peter and Y/N only had eyes for eachother. Their arrangement was never made official nor spoken about but by their actions, it was more than obvious. High King Peter was infatuated with Y/N, and he was wrapped around her finger. Whether it was due to her unbelievably inviting demeanor or her ability to listen to Peter speak for hours, the poor king couldn’t get enough of the girl. Y/N was always there to offer support, without offering advice unwarranted, and she managed to crack Peter’s shell quite quickly.

Y/N wasn’t a royal, nor was she a member of the official staff at Cair Paravel. Rather, she was just a normal girl in her late teens that happened to stumble upon Narnia, much like the royal family. Peter envied that she didn’t have any real responsibility or ties to the Kingdom; she was just a normal citizen who happened to befriend her rulers. What Peter didn’t understand was that she did have a responsibility. And a big one at that. She offered support to her Kings and Queens as normal friends, rather than monarchs who had all of the answers. Y/N kept her friends sane and relaxed. Her job could be seen as one of the more important jobs in the kingdom for that sole reason.

“I’m not too excited about tomorrow, if I’m being honest,” Peter spoke hesitantly, sharpening his blade. The king sat upon a large rock in the courtyard, whereas Y/N was perched on a nearby bench.

“And may I ask why?” Y/N hummed, her hands working on a daisy chain. She glanced up at her friend, unbothered by the shrill sound of the sharpening metal. Taking care of his blades was a coping mechanism Peter had taken up, so anything that helped him clear his mind didn’t bother Y/N in the slightest.

“King Lune is bringing Princess Alexandra and Prince Frederick along to the deal,” Peter’s hands worked on his sword, his brow scrunched in frustration. “Which means more Archenland soldiers in Narnia. The more foreign soldiers in Cair Paravel, the more on edge the entire kingdom appears. I don’t want them to think we fear them.”

“Ah, I see. Hand me that flower will you, Pete?” Y/N pointed at a daisy near his foot. Peter plucks it from the soil and hands it to Y/N. “Thank you. What deal are you trying to make?”

“Ed and I are trying to get them to sign a peace treaty, which may or may not be a good idea.”

“Isn’t there a third Prince? Prince Rub The Rash or something?” Y/N’s voice resembled a giggle.

Peter snickers, “Rabadash, yeah. Apparently he has important matters to deal with and won’t be attending. A blessing, if you ask me.”

Y/N holds her daisy chain up in the light and observes her handiwork. The stems were woven around eachother securely and each flower was on perfect display. She grinned and fastened the ends together so it formed a crown.

“So, a peace treaty. That’s good, yeah? More allies, or whatever.”

“Yeah, that’s a good way to look at it. We’re just not too positive about what they want in return. Something tells me that’s why the Prince and Princess are tagging along.” At these words, Peter makes a sharp movement and the metal of his sword emits a high pitched screech.

“You mean marriage?”

“Yeah, marriage. Susan and I, most likely.”

Y/N sucks in air through her nose harshly. “Oh, I see.” She stands from the bench and stands right in front of her king.

Y/N delicately pulls his crown from his head, placing her daisy chain in its place. His dirty blonde hair smooths against his forehead and Peter looks up with his beautiful blue eyes. Y/N always adored his eyes; no matter how his body language looked, his eyes always displayed his true emotions.

“You look nice with flowers in your hair, my king.” Y/N’s voice was soft, making Peter understand what she was feeling immediately.

“Thank you, but you know you don’t have to address me with formalities.”

The two were extremely close in this moment; just observing the other’s faces. Peter hand a stone-cold look on his face, but his irises were filled with doubt and sadness. Y/N sighed, taking a step back and diverting her gaze.

“Well, you are my king. I don’t see anything wrong with addressing you as such.”

“I’m more than just your king, Y/N. You of all people should know that.”

“What’s her name again?” Y/N had turned her back to Peter. She heard Peter set the objects in his hands on the grass and stand.

“Who’s name?”

Y/N tightened her grip on Peter’s metal crown. “The princess you are set to marry.”

“Why does it matter?” The jagged edges of the crown dug into Y/N’s palm.

“What is it, your majesty?”

“Alexandra. Princess Alexandra.” Peter’s large hand fell to Y/N’s lower back and he guided her to sit on the bench.

“King Peter and Queen Alexandra, that has a bit of a ring to it.” Her gaze fell to the metal between her fingers, her thumb running across a small red jewel.

“Y/N, stop it. If it’s marriage we’re not going to go through with it. Ed and I have already spoken about this with Susan.”

“Peter, I don’t think you understand something very important,” Y/N moved her head in one fluid motion to lock eyes with Peter. “You’re not mine, and you never will be. You’re High King of Narnia. I’m just, well, me. And we can never change that.”

Peter rose his hand and adjusted the flowers atop his head so they wouldn’t fall off. “I have all the power needed to change that, Y/N.”

“But why would you? Why would you risk the safety of Narnia for me?”

Peter sighs. “How about this, you come to the agreement, yeah? We’re holding a ball beforehand so we can ‘mingle’ and scope out their intentions.” Y/N nods solemnly, handing the crown back to its owner.

“Flowers really do suit you, Peter.” And with that, Peter’s favorite girl stands and walks back towards the castle.

“How’s the punch? I heard it’s not very good,” A voice pulls Y/N out of her trance. She was currently watching a very handsy Princess Alexandra feel Peter’s biceps and giggle.

“Pardon?” She looked up to see a very handsome man leaning against the wall. He was rather tall and lanky, with long ginger hair that was swept into his eyes. Atop his head sat a golden crown, very similar to Peter’s, and his face was twisted into a grin. The man was extremely attractive, with his slightly cocky body language and flirty tone.

“Is the punch good? Tasty? Pleasing to the tastebuds? I heard it wasn’t.” In his hand, he held a small clear cup filled with red liquid. He raises it to his pink lips and takes a gulp.

“Seems like you just answered your own question.”

“It was alright,” He smiles. “It would be better if I knew your name, though.”

“Your drink would be better if you knew my name?” Y/N laughs, growing more comfortable in the presence of who she assumed was Prince Frederick.

“Well, it would make my day, night, week, month, year, life better. My drink is just a part of that,” He winked and took another sip. “I’m Prince Frederick, but someone as pretty as you can call me Fred,” The royal held out his hand for a handshake.

Y/N giggled and shook it. “Y/N, I’m a close friend of the Narnian Kings and Queens.”

Y/N couldn’t help but be charmed by the mysterious prince. He was funny and flirty, which was probably exactly how he wanted to appear as. Peter, on the other hand, hated what he saw. He was across the room but watching Y/N’s body language ignited a fire inside his stomach.

“You’re so strong, King Peter,” Princess Alexandra squeezed his upper arm. Peter glanced at her then back at Y/N.

“Thanks,” He responded shortly, tight jawed with his hand on the hilt of his sword. His eyes glanced over the pair and his gaze took in the subtle changes of his love. She was facing Frederick head-on while throwing her head back to laugh at whatever he’s saying.

“Who are you looking at?” Alexandra said, placing two fingers on his cheek and turning his head to face her.

Peter pushed away from her presence and walked over to the pair. “Excuse me,” The two turn their head towards Peter. Y/N’s smile faltered at Peter’s expression; he looked almost angry and was staring daggers into Fred’s skull.

“Hello, my King,” Y/N bowed, acting formal as there were guests in the room.

He ignores Y/N and turns to Prince Frederick. “Who are you?”

This doesn’t seem to faze Fred as he lazily sips his drink. “I’m Prince Frederick. You must be King Peter, I was just talking to your friend.” He moves his cup to gesture Y/N.

“I can see that,” Peter mumbles. A similar look of disdain falls over Y/N’s face as her eyes follow the path Peter took to get to her. At the end stood Princess Alexandra, now speaking to Edmund.

“How is Princess Alexandra?”

“Oh, she’s doing great. Thinks I’m very strong.”

“Oh, good.” Y/N responds passive-aggressively.

“Yeah, it’s great. She was just feeling my bicep. Said it was the biggest she’s ever felt, mmhm.”

Fred looks between the two awkwardly, raising his eyebrows and taking it as his cue to leave. He pushes off the wall and meets his sister in the middle of the room.

“Fred, he said I can call him that by the way, just got done calling me pretty before you got here,” Y/N looked up at Peter, her eyebrow quirked and arms crossed over her chest.

Peter glances over at Edmund and nods before grabbing Y/N’s arm and dragging her out of the room. He pushes her against a wall a little bit away from the ballroom.

“I told you I wasn’t marrying her, why are you doing this?” His breath fanned her lips as he spoke.

“Doing what?”

“Flirting with Princey,” Peter’s body pinned Y/N’s against the stone brick wall. “I saw how you were talking.”

“Why were you flirting with Miss Princess if you weren’t planning on marrying her?”

“I wasn’t!”

“I saw her feel you up, Peter!” Y/N huffed in frustration, her hands coming to push and his shoulder. However, Peter was a wall and held his ground with little to no effort.

“She felt my arm for, like, 10 minutes. Big deal. You actually flirted back.”

“I did no such thing, thank you very much. I was too busy watching you flirt with whats-her-face to even notice Prince Frederick!”

Peter slammed a fist into the brick before pressing a sheering kiss to Y/N’s lips. The kiss was hot and rushed; both parties putting all of their emotions into the one action. Teeth clashed and tongues wrestled until Peter eventually pulled away breathlessly. His lips were swollen and red, and Y/N assumes she looked the same.

“I don’t want to marry her, Y/N. I want to marry you. I am so fucking in love with you,” Peter shook his head, walking in a small circle before returning to his place. “And seeing you with Princey really made me understand that I need you.”

“Then, what are you waiting for, My King?”

“Well, a yes would be nice.”

Y/N giggled, and all tension seemed to dissipate. “Well, I haven’t been asked anything yet.”

Peter’s grin matched Y/N’s. “Well, Lady Y/N, would you marry me and become my queen?”

“Yes, Peter. Took you long enough.”

The two laughed once more before pressing their lips together once more. Unlike the last kiss, this one was feather-light and full of love. Peter caressed the sides of Y/N’s face with his rough hands and pressed his lips against hers with much certainty.

“There you are!” Edmund rounded the corner just as the couple pulled apart. “Good news! You two managed to weird out the Prince and Princess so much that they’re backing out of the arrangement. King Lune was convinced to sign the treaty with no further complications.”

#peter pevensie #king peter #king peter the magnificent #peter pevensie x reader #king peter x redaer #the chronicles of narnia #the chronicles of narnia fanfic #the chronicles of narnia fanfiction #peter pevensie fanfiction #peter pevensie fanfic #narnia #c.s. lewis #c. s. lewis #edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie x reader #susan pevensie #susan pevensie x reader #lucy pevensie #lucy pevensie x reader

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derireo · 4 years ago

Text

lost and found ↦ itaru and izumi

Fate is a funny thing don’t you think? It hits you when you least expect it, and it always gives you the chance to accept it or run away from it.

「 2.8k words 」

cw: part two to sad little pair. separation and reconciliation.

Itaru and Izumi had pretended that nothing had happened after that day. Not a single peep of what had transpired that afternoon made it past their lips, and they decided that it was better that way.

Izumi forcefully shoved away the memory of Itaru's hug that brought her comfort while Itaru locked away the memory of her tired body leaning against him for support.

She chose not to remember the apologetic face he wore when he left her house that day and he refused to remember the way she had hid her face from him when he left.

Except that, Itaru actually couldn't forget the image of her still kneeling on the ground even as he stood up from the floor. The way she held a hand to her face to save what little pride she had left and still said 'goodbye' when he stepped out of her house.

Itaru couldn't forget anything, but it looked like she could.

"Are you excited for graduation?" She whispered softly, months later, as they laid on the floor in her lounge room.

That afternoon was far behind them, and Izumi was looking forward to what the future had in store for her. She continued to pretend that Itaru wasn't planning on disappearing off the face of the earth as they neared the last day of high school, to the point that she believed he was gonna stick around just a little longer.

Itaru mulled over his answer to Izumi's question as he stared at the ceiling, his hands folded atop his stomach while Izumi had her arms folded beneath her head.

"I'm in between." He said, turning his head to look at Izumi who was smiling.

"What about you?"

"I'm excited." She responded, but didn't return Itaru's gaze. "We're finally free."

Her expression was soft and held a tinge of warmth and happiness. Truly, she seemed to be excited, but for some reason Itaru felt his heart clench with sadness.

He looked back up at the ceiling, having nothing else to say, and pretended he wasn't disappointed when Izumi still didn't spare him a glance.

It wasn't until their last day had come up when Itaru felt his heart clench again. Their ceremony had finished a little while ago and his family were keeping him busy with all of the photos they were taking.

He had wanted to find Izumi after everyone descended the stairs to leave the auditorium, but lost sight of her. She should have passed him since her last name was further below on the list, but he missed her and the opportunity to celebrate with his family.

Izumi's mom hadn't come to the ceremony, claiming she needed to go to work, and she wasn't sure if the letter she had sent to her father reached him. She didn't even know if it was the correct address.

If he could offer her one more thing before they departed, Itaru wanted to show her what it would have been like to have a sort-of happy family.

His heart felt heavy and he couldn't smile for the camera anymore. His parents deemed that it was a sign that they should go home.

They drove away from the venue in silence, Itaru staring out the window while his sister scrolled through all the photos they took, his parents speaking to each other as they drove their way home.

His family understood why he was like this, having met Izumi plenty of times to find themselves fond of her too. He'd talk about Izumi at the dinner table if he had an interesting enough story, replacing Tonooka with the sound of her name falling from his lips instead of his.

They understood that Itaru had grown to like Izumi more as a friend as the days passed, but they didn't want to involve themselves when it came to her family problems.

They cared for her, of course, but they didn't want her mother to lash at them if they ever did something 'wrong' in the eyes of Mrs. Tachibana.

Itaru dropped his cap on the seat between him and his sister and dragged his hand through his hair to distract himself from the empty feeling in his chest.

"Oh. Do you think that's Izumi walking down the street?" Itaru's sister commented as she ducked her head to see through the windshield.

The question made Itaru's heart stutter and he begged for his father to stop the car so that he could greet her, but his dad refused.

"I can't." He said, apologetic. "There's a bunch of cars behind us."

And at that point, Itaru was already rolling down his window, heart racing in his chest as the wind blew at his trimmed fringe and his blocky glasses.

His heart was in his throat now as he recognized Izumi's back, still clad in their graduation gown with her cap in her hand.

She wore jeans and her sneakers to the ceremony, unable to find clothes that were cheap enough for a high school student.

It was an odd sight to behold as she was the only one in casual clothes, and there were whispers among his grad class as well as in the audience when she received her diploma with a charming smile.

Izumi told him, a few days before today, that her mother's dresses didn't fit her body when he had asked what she was going to wear.

It was a good call on her part, at least. She didn't have to walk home in heels.

But that's not what mattered. She was walking slowly, but the car was going too fast and all Itaru could do was shove his upper body out the window while calling out Izumi's name, his arm desperately reaching out to her before they passed.

His breath left his lungs then, and it felt like the world was moving in slow motion when he saw her lift her gaze from the sidewalk to see who was calling. And she smiled, her eyes meeting Itaru's for the briefest of moments as she waved him goodbye.

Her expression told him that she was accepting their end, and Itaru was barely able to utter his farewells as the car drove further and further away.

It had been, what, six years since they last saw each other?

Not that Itaru cared anymore. Izumi was but a good memory from high school, and there was nothing else he could do to find her anymore.

He had studied his ass off in university, locking himself in his own room to finish his homework and then work on studying for the next quiz, test, exam. He didn't have time to go look for someone who probably had no interest in him anymore.

So he gave himself time to play his video games of course, rather than conduct a search. His family wasn't really happy about that part, but as long as he finished university with a degree and managed to get a high-paying job, they would let Itaru continue with his obsessive hobby.

Eventually his hard work paid off, and Itaru finally had enough money to move out of his parent's house and find a new home.

Well. He didn't find a new place yet.

Hence the reason why he was currently at Veludo Station, staring at the bulletin board that had different offers for housing.

He had come here after a long day at work, his tired eyes searching for an appealing enough apartment or roommate. His briefcase felt heavy in his hand and he could feel his shoulders slouching as he continued to stare, unsatisfied with each offer that he read.

He almost didn't bother to take a step to the side when someone else came up to the bulletin board, his body exhausted with how hard he had worked today.

His side step was heavy as he had at least some respective for the people around him, but didn't bother to respond when the person quietly thanked him.

It was a woman who showed their gratitude, soft-spoken and timid. She was a bit shorter than him, her head at the same height as his jaw probably.

Itaru wasn't even going to bother looking her way until he saw how she took a photo of each flyer on the board, the sound of her camera clicking awfully loud as it rang in Itaru's eyes.

He clenched his jaw once, twice.

Then she took another photo while Itaru was struggling to read a sentence and he had to take a deep breath to calm his boiling blood.

He turned his head in the direction of the woman who seemed to be completely unaware of how annoying she was being, and as he opened his mouth to plead with her and ask her to kindly put her phone away, the words died in his throat.

"U-Uh..." His breath came out in a pathetic wheeze, seeing who it was right beside him.

That all too familiar, side-swept hair was one hint. The pigeon-toed feet was another. Those round, black rimmed glasses and that thoughtful frown she wore was just a few more.

It felt like it was graduation day all over again; when the world came to a slow and all of the breath in his lungs had escaped him.

Itaru found that he couldn't speak.

The woman felt a pair of eyes on her and had to turn to see who it was, phone dangling from her hand in a haphazard way that would have anyone sweating. Her brown, sparkling eyes caught onto Itaru and she pursed her lips to one side, wondering why he was staring.

"May I help you?" She asked curiously.

The smile she gave him was kind, and she pocketed her phone to give Itaru all of her attention.

It wasn't until he ran a hand through his hair when she realised who was standing in front of her. Her smile dropped to show her confusion and disbelief, and she visibly flinched when Itaru reached out to greet her with a handshake.

"Um. Hi." She said with cinched eyebrows, smiling awkwardly as she took hold of Itaru's hand to take it.

Her palm was warm in his grip as they gave each other a firm shake, and they took a step to the side of the bulletin board so that they avoided blocking it from the others who had wanted to check out the listings.

"Izumi." He sighed, relieved.

Relieved to see that she was okay.

"Yeah..." She nodded, smiling crookedly as she released Itaru's hand when he didn't let go. Izumi tried to be discreet when she wiped her hand on her pants to dry it (Itaru was sweating), but of course, the man saw it, and she flushed while trying to defend the man from himself.

"I-It's okay...don't be embarrassed." Izumi panicked, seeing how Itaru quickly wiped his own hand on his pant with a panicked laugh.

"You—uh, you look different." She gestured wildly, waving her hand at Itaru who only smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. He shrugged his shoulders in a sheepish way and sucked in a breath to calm his nerves, still in disbelief that he'd run into Izumi here of all places.

"Thanks... I think." He laughed.

"It's a good thing, I promise." She chuckled and pushed her glasses back up her nose with a bashful smile.

Izumi noticed that he had grown taller over the years, and that he even dyed his hair a convincingly natural blond. He ditched his glasses for contacts too, but all the while kept that lazy air around him.

She was glad to know he took care of himself while they were apart.

...She realised that she hadn't changed so much over the years.

Maybe it was a good time to run.

Izumi threw her thumb behind her shoulder and smiled.

"I've got to g—"

"I've missed you."

Itaru breathed before Izumi could finish her excuse to leave.

"You were gone before I knew it." He said softly, taking Izumi's wrist in his hand to pull her forward until they were in each other's space.

"Why didn't you give me the chance to say goodbye?"

He was close. Too close. People were probably staring at them when he bent down to her level, and she flushed a faint pink when he stared at her with a sharp gaze as he whispered.

She couldn't bring herself to lie after all the years that had passed them by and she pressed her lips into a thin line at that fact. Her wrist was trapped in his grip, so she had no chance of escaping him unless she wanted to use physical force.

Izumi was helpless in the presence of Itaru and she no longer tried to pull herself away from him.

"I didn't want to hear you say it. If I did, I don't think I would have been able to keep it together." She laughed quietly, smiling in a way that made Itaru's heart twist.

Izumi tucked a piece of hair behind her ear while avoiding his gaze and sucked her lip into her mouth, staring hard at the tie that wrapped around his neck to focus her attention elsewhere.

"You had your issues and I had mine. If anything, I think parting ways was the best choice for us to make." She murmured, flitting her gaze up to Itaru who was staring back at her.

"But...didn't it hurt? " He asked, eyes sad. Izumi looked as if she no longer felt the pain of the past, and it made Itaru envious. It looked like she had gotten over it far more quicker than he had, and Itaru wished he could do the same.

Seeing her again brought back everything he thought he had buried.

Izumi floundered at the question, visibly taken aback by the prying question and laughed; more incredulous this time around.

"Yeah? I—what? Is that even a question?" She smiled, gently tearing her wrist away from Itaru's grip.

"I was a mess for years. I mean—I still am, but, that's not the point." She waved her hands oddly to distract herself from the embarrassment that was heating her face, and she took a small step away from the man in front of her.

"Itaru. You meant a lot to me. I was so torn. I didn't know how else to cope when I didn't have you around anymore. It was like I—I was suffocating. Suffocating in the loneliness and drowning in the darkness.

But I had to learn how to overcome it all by myself. I had no one else to rely on, and so I had to become the person I didn't have. Of course, it hurt, Itaru. But if I don't learn how to heal on my own, what good can I do for anybody else?"

Izumi was breathless after her tangent, her face warm with all of the stress and sadness she had expressed to Itaru as she rambled about what she did when he was gone.

"It hurt so much when, in my moments of weakness, I'd still call you even after you changed numbers. When I couldn't visit your house because you were no longer there. When I'd still see Tonooka hanging around, telling me that you weren't going to return."

Izumi placed a hand on her forehead to cool herself down before her voice could break, and she closed her eyes as she drank in a deep breath.

"It hurt, Itaru. But I knew you didn't want to stay any longer, and I told myself that it was okay."

With her voice dwindling down to a whisper, Itaru sucked in a sharp breath and reached out to cradle Izumi into his chest before he could see her tears begin to fall.

"I am so sorry." He whispered, his trembling lips tickling the outside of her ear as Izumi sobbed into his shoulder, the moisture from her eyes staining his suit jacket.

The scent that stuck to her was still the same; freshly cooked rice with a hint of that cherry blossom perfume her boss back in high school used to gift her every Christmas.

It made Itaru cry out with relief as he held her tighter to his chest, finally convinced that all of this was real as she punched at his chest and his stomach to punish him for all of the pain he has caused her.

"I missed you so much." Itaru whispered softly as he smoothed his fingers through her hair like he used to back in the day, grunting out of slight annoyance when Izumi gave him a harder punch to the stomach.

"You're such an asshole." She cried into his shoulder, slapping at his sides. "I hate you. So much."

Itaru almost wanted to cry himself. Not because of the overwhelming emotions he felt, but because of how intent Izumi seemed to be on physically hurting him.

"My best friend~ don't be like that—ugh. Please." He coughed over her shoulder when she threw her knee up into his stomach, tears still running down her face as he held onto her for dear life.

He guessed that even something that was once lost, will always have the chance to be found again.

#a3!#a3! act! addict! actors!#act! addict! actors!#itaru chigasaki #izumi tachibana #a3! fic #a3! scenarios #do y'all want a romantic third and final part or a platonic third and final part

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