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refiwrites · 2 years

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Ceasefire

Pairing: Ao'nung x Sully! Fem! Reader

Requested?: Yes.

Summary: Your father had asked for Uturu from the Awa'atlu village, but it was far from feeling like a sanctuary when a certain Metkayina boy always seemed to be getting on your nerves, and you could tell he was enjoying it.

Word count: 3.6k

Warning/s: ATWOW spoilers, enemies to lovers? ao'nung being a bully, that one fight scene lmao, mentions of injury and wounds, ronal being scary

Note: shoutout to ao'nung for being the first avatar character i wrote for that surpassed two thousand words 🥴 i am not down bad. Anyways likes, reblogs, and feedbacks are most welcome and appreciated!

GIF is mine!

You stood along with your brothers as your father faced Tonowari and Ronal, the Olo’eyktan and the Tsahìk of the Awa’atlu village. All of you simultaneously signed your greetings.

“Why have you come to us, Jake Sully?” Tonowari asked, holding his staff firm.

“We seek Uturu.” Jake said.

“Uturu?” Ronal repeated, seemingly appalled. You and your siblings glanced at each other, unsure of what’s to come.

“A sanctuary, for my family.” He explained.

Tonowari almost fought back a chuckle, extending his arm out, as if to point towards you. “We are reef people. You are forest people; your skills will mean nothing here.”

You shifted in your place as Ronal walked along you, inspecting. “Well, we can learn your ways, alright?” Jake said, looking at his family. “Yes.” Your mother, Neytiri confirmed.

Ronal then turned to face Tuk, lifting her arm. “Their arms are too thin.” She comments, earning a small “Mom…” from Tuk herself.

“Their tails… are weak, you will be slow in the water.”

You flinched as you felt Ronal grab your tail, you frowned, moving her hand away from your tail. “Watch it..” You say under your breath, looking up, you made eye contact with that one boy earlier, who was making fun of Neteyam and Lo’ak’s tails.

He was smiling at you funny, as if mocking you. He shakes his head at you, chuckling before turning his head to whisper something to his friend, which sent them both laughing.

You furrowed your brows at him, rolling your eyes. You didn’t like him already.

After what felt like forever, Tonowari and Ronal finally agreed to let your family stay.

“Toruk Makto and his family will stay with us.” Tonowari announced amongst his clan, a breath you didn’t know you had been holding was exhaled.

“Treat them as our brothers and sisters— They do not know the sea; so, they will be like babies, taking their first breath.”

You kept your eyes fixated on the ground.

“Teach them our ways so they do not suffer the shame of being useless.” Tonowari finished, and you can just about feel his gaze on all of you.

“Okay, what do we say?” Jake said, looking at all of you.

“Thank you.” Tuk was the first one, followed by you and Neteyam, then Lo’ak and Kiri.

“My son, Ao’nung and my daughter, Tsireya will show your children what to do.”

Your eyes looked up to see the same boy from earlier, making your eyes go wide. He was the chief’s son? That explains the attitude. You both made eye contact again before he steps up to appeal to his father.

“Father why would yo—” You heard him speak before he was cut off by his own.

“It is decided.”

“Come! I will show you our village.” His sister, Tsireya approached with a huge smile on her face, making your heart feel a little at ease. You were thankful somehow that his sister was kind.

After a few days of settling in, the lessons began.

You weren’t thrilled to see the chief’s son, to say the least, and you were pretty sure the feeling was mutual.

The first was when they (mostly Tsireya) encouraged you to swim together.

You stood as you watched the three dived into the ocean so easily.

“Come on, come on!” Neteyam urged you and Lo’ak, making a run for it before jumping off the edge. The two of you followed, yelling out before hitting the water.

Then you were swallowed by the ocean, you opened your eyes to see all kinds of fishes and reefs around you. You swam a bit further, watching the creatures around you swim so gracefully.

Then you saw Lo’ak pointing towards where Tsireya was and you and Neteyam followed, moving your arms to swim towards them.

You followed, but then the need to breathe got stronger as you faced your siblings. You pointed up and they were quick to understand.

Reaching the surface, you gasped for air, so did your brothers. You noticed the others didn’t follow, so you submerged your face back in the ocean to see Tsireya doing something with her hands which sent you confused. But Tsireya just motioned her hands in a ‘come here’ motion.

Taking another breath, the three of you dove back down again. You held onto a reef to stable yourself and you felt a pair of eyes looking at you. You shook it off as Neteyam signaled to go up again with the others.

Following, you reached the surface again.

“Are you alright?” Tsireya asked.

“You’re too fast! Wait for us.” Tuk complained. Tsireya offered her an apologetic smile. “Just breathe.” She spoke.

You did, but it was cut off when the chief’s son, Ao’nung suddenly popped up beside you. You moved away as you looked at him.

“You’re not good divers.” He said looking at you, then Neteyam and Lo’ak.

“Maybe good at swimming through trees but-“ He chuckled but Tsireya’s hand smacked him on the head, which sent you chuckling. He looked at you with a scowl. You just sent him a teasing smile.

“Come on, bro.” Lo’ak said.

“We don’t speak this… finger talk you guys.” Neteyam said, motioning with his fingers.

“Yeah, we don’t understand what you’re saying.” You said to them.

“I will teach you.” Replied Tsireya.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Days passed by and you were learning bit by bit.

Now you were standing in the ocean, watching as Ao’nung called for something. Then you saw them. They were almost as big as you, swimming around you gracefully.

Then Ao’nung faced you, with his hand raised. “If you want to live here, you have to ride… Shouldn’t be too hard for you.” Ao’nung said, although the last bit he looked at you.

You rolled your eyes.

Then it was time to ride the Ilus.

You smiled as you pet its head, it squawked happily at you, nudging its face onto your arm. “Look at you, you’re beautiful.” You speak.

“Are you planning to stand here and rave all day like a baby?” Ao’nung teased, still giving you that same smile from before. You glared at him, turning your face away from him as you made tsaheylu with the Ilu.

You took a deep breath before hopping on, you didn’t miss the way Ao’nung’s hand followed, almost to support you if you fall back into the ocean.

“Get your hand off me.” You hissed at him once you successfully rode your Ilu.

He raises both his arms in surrender, smirking at you, shaking his head.

“Alright, I was just trying to help—”

“Calling the Ilu was enough.” You spoke.

“I’m not so sure about that.” He replied, then he jerked his head towards the ocean. “If you’re so confident, then give it a go.”

You looked towards the ocean, your Ilu breathing steadily below you. You held onto the handle. “Okay...” You smacked yourself mentally for letting your voice falter.

Ao’nung didn’t miss it as he laughed. “What, not scared now, are you?”

“I’m not!” You growled. In a way to spite him, you tugged on your Ilu to go swim.

Your Ilu quickly dived, taking you aback as you tried to hold onto the handle for your life. Your legs wobbled as you tried to place them in between your Ilu.

But the speed was too much to bear as you were forced to let go, sending your body tumbling around in the ocean as you moved to upright yourself.

Ao’nung fully witnessed what happened underwater as he rose to the surface, laughing at you.

You rose to the surface as well, moving your hair away from your face. You could hear Ao’nung laughing behind you as your cheeks warmed in embarrassment.

“Told you so, maybe you should go back to the forest already.” He says to you.

“Shut up.” You said to him, then your Ilu appeared next to you, nudging your side as if to apologize. You moved your attention to the Ilu instead of Ao’nung.

He tilts his head, watching you interact with the creature, the corner of his lip almost twitching into a genuine smile.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Although within those weeks, Ao’nung was nowhere to be found. You took it that maybe he was busy with his hunter duties, that or just maybe he didn’t want to hang out with your kind.

Within the next few weeks, you had been trained by Tsireya and Rotxo to breathe and you could say you were already doing a decent job at it with the way you lasted minutes underwater. Often times all of you would ride on your Ilu’s, going on trips to wherever Tsireya or Rotxo had in mind.

You hated the way you found yourself thinking of where he could be whenever you were out with them. You also cursed yourself more often than not when you would see him passing by and you would be trying to avoid looking at him.

You hated him with every fiber of your being, so why on earth would you be missing him?

Emerging with your Ilu, you let out a deep breath along with your siblings.

“You are learning to breathe.” Tsireya says with a smile on her face.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Then a day came when you were all granted rest.

You chose to spend it with Kiri, your sister, by the ocean as you sat beside her in the water as she was laying stomach down, her head submerged under, looking at something in the sand.

Meanwhile you were sitting with your eyes closed, letting the warmth of the sun hit your skin as your hand swayed underwater, making little ripples.

Your ears perked as you heard sloshing behind you, then a voice followed.

“What are they doing?”

“I don’t know.”

“I would not be surprised if two of them were looking at the sand.”

Then a chorus of laughter.

That gathered you and Kiri’s attention as you turned your head to stand up, Kiri lifting her head with a dazed look on her face as she stood. “Huh?”

Your eyes immediately fell onto Ao’nung’s.

You knit your brows as your ears steered back.

“What did you say?” Kiri asked, you looked at her for a brief moment and you placed your hand out in front of her, to not let her get any closer to them.

“Are you guys… you know, freaks?” Ao’nung asks, his brows raised in amusement. You and Kiri looked at each other as you faced him again.

“Come on, he asked if you guys are freaks.” One of his friends repeated.

“No.” You sassed. “Let’s get out of here, Kiri.”

You began to walk away with Kiri, but they were still on your tail.

“Come on, are you sure? Don’t go already, we’re just asking a question.” His friend said.

You ignored them.

“Look, you’re not even real Na’vi!” Ao’nung says before his hand charged to grab at Kiri’s hand just in time for you to see.

You hissed loudly, dashing in front of Kiri to smack Ao’nung’s hand away from her. Ao’nung didn’t seem bothered, in fact, you thought it only motivated him more to see you that angry.

“Oh, oh.” His friends taunted, then Ao’nung successfully grabbed your wrist, his hold was unyielding as you tried to tug it away from him. “Let. Go. Of Me.” You said through gritted teeth, staring him down.

He looked entertained as he held your wrist up. “I don’t think so, four fingered f—"

“Hey! Back off fish lips!” You and Kiri’s head turn to see Lo’ak walaking towards you.

Ao’nung got distracted so you successfully tore your arm off his hold.

“Aw, another four fingered freak.” He now focused on Lo’ak.

“And look at his little tail!” The other said, tugging on Lo’ak’s tail, prompting Lo’ak to push the other Metkayina away. They began laughing “Look at that baby tail.”

You were not letting Lo’ak get into a fight again.

“Leave us alone!” You shout, trying to push Ao’nung off Lo’ak when Ao’nung turned to you, he acted like he was about to give you a shove when Neteyam suddenly appeared, him being the one to shove Ao’nung away from you.

“You heard what she said, leave them alone.” Neteyam’s voice threatened, pointing at Ao’nung’s chest.

“Back off. Now.” Neteyam warned, a slight hiss to his tone. Ao’nung did what he was told, holding his arms up as he walked back.

“Smart choice,” Said Neteyam before glancing at the rest of his friends “and from now on, I need you to respect my sisters.”

The other Metkayina hissed, while Kiri darted her tongue out at them, and you gave a teasing tight-lipped smile to Ao’nung.

“Let’s go.”

You all began to walk away when they snickered behind you. “Look at them, they’re all freaks, the whole family of ‘em.”

Seems like that was the last straw for Lo’ak as he turned back around on his heel again to approach the group, making you stop in your tracks.

“Lo’ak.” Neteyam called. He knew what his little brother was about to do.

“I got this, bro.”

You and Neteyam look at each other before looking back at Lo’ak.

“What is he doing…” You mumble to yourself.

“I know this hand is funny,” Lo’ak started showing his hand, especially his pinky finger. “Look, I’m a freak. Alien.”

At what Lo’ak said, they started laughing at him again, Ao’nung looked smug, which you just wanted to smack him in the face.

“But it can do something really cool,” Lo’ak continued. He balled his fist, “Watch, first I ball it up really tight like this… Kay? Then—“

You were taken aback as Lo’ak landed a punch on Ao’nung’s face, him being stunned for a second.

Lo’ak took the advantage, landing two more punches on him which sent him tumbling back on the sand.

“It’s called a punch, bitch!” Lo’ak growled. “Don’t ever touch my sisters again.”

The feeling of amusement quickly faded as Ao’nung’s group hissed at Lo’ak, then Ao’nung lunged at him, tackling him towards the ground.

“Ow! Ow!” Lo’ak screamed as he was pulled by his tail, he scurried to get up only to get slapped by the other boy with his tail on the cheek.

You and Kiri stood stunned.

Then Neteyam came forward. “Neteyam—” You called but he was already at the scene, delivering a knee to the gut to one of Ao’nung’s friends. Then they were both tackled to the ground. It was a blur of events.

“Stop!” You spoke. “So stupid!” Kiri added.

“Ow! My tail!” Lo’ak screamed as he was again pulled by his tail, but he retaliated by grabbing the opponent’s ear. “Ow, my ear! Let go!!”

As much as you hated seeing your brothers get beat up, it was an amazing sight to see. Especially you could see how beaten Ao’nung looked. Serves him right.

You and Kiri stifled your laughter at them.

By the looks of things, your two skxawng of a brother were winning.

But the fun had to end.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You walked towards your Marui, followed by Neteyam, Lo’ak, and Jake.

“What was the one thing I asked?” Started Jake, looking at his sons. You stood to the side; your head bowed. “The one thing?”

“Stay out of trouble.” Lo’ak answered.

“Stay out of trouble.” Jake repeated.

Neteyam stepped up. “It was my fault.”

“I don’t think so- you gotta stop taking the heat for this knucklehead.” At the mention of ‘knucklehead’ Jake turns to look at Lo’ak.

Lo’ak looked at you before glancing back at his father. “Look, dad, Ao’nung was picking on (Y/N) and Kiri, called them freaks.”

With that, your head perked up as you feel your father’s eyes on you. “Is this true?”

You could only nod.

Jake gritted his teeth. “Go apologize to Ao’nung.”

“What?”

“He’s the chief’s son, do you understand?” Jake said. “I don’t care how you do it, just apologize.”

Lo’ak bit the inside of his cheek before he stormed off.

“For you, (Y/N). See if you can patch up the kid.”

“But wh—”

“Set things aside, you’re the best healer we’ve got. I’m sure the chief and the Tsahik would appreciate it. Just remember, if he tries anything funny, you’re out of there.”

You tried to hiss at your father for making him ask you to do that, but you just bit your tongue, scrambling to get your bowl and the materials needed, before grumbling your way out of the Marui.

Neteyam watched, as much as he wanted to stop you from going, he couldn’t speak up to his father. He then started to walk out of the tent, but his dad stopped him.

“Hey.” Neteyam turns around to meet his father. “So, what’d the other guys look like?”

“Worse.” Neteyam answered. “That’s good.”

With that, Neteyam’s energy picked up as he smiled proudly. “A lot worse.”

“Alright, get outta here.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

With every step you took felt like a death sentence.

You carried your bowl, already prepared with the paste you used to treat wounds back in the Omatikaya clan.

Soon enough, you approach the Marui of the chief.

With a deep breath, you slowly walked in.

It revealed Ao’nung sitting down while the Tsahik, Ronal seemed to be glaring at him as Tonowari stood tall, also carrying the glint of disappointment in his eye. But it was quick to disappear once he spots you.

“Jake Sully’s kid, (Y/N), what are you here for?”

“Olo’eyktan, Tsahik.” You greet with a bow. You could feel Ao’nung’s eyes on you.

With a deep breath, you tightened your grip on your bowl. “My father has asked for me to treat your son. I am most skilled in healing back in Omatikaya.” You held your words perfectly.

Ronal was looking at you now, you could feel your hair rising from the way she looked.

Tonowari seemed to appreciate the effort.

“That is a great gesture. But first I have to apologize in behalf of my son, I did not expect him to act this way.”

You felt somewhat relieved as you nod. “It is appreciated, Olo’eyktan.”

Tonowari turns toward Ronal. “Our son is in good care now, we must run through our duties for the day.”

He walks out and Ronal followed but stopped next to you.

You almost gulped as you turned to face her.

Ronal stared at you before she closed her eyes and nodded at you before leaving you with Ao’nung.

You were certainly terrified of the Tsahik.

But now you shifted your attention to the boy in front of you, he was still sat, looking at you.

“I don’t like this any more than you do. I’m only here because my father has asked me to, when you know very well I wouldn’t waste my time with you.” You firmly said, sitting on his side as you placed the bowl beside you.

Ao’nung, for the first time stayed silent.

You dipped your fingers in the paste, reaching up to his face but he tilted his head back.

Huffing in annoyance, you moved to sit up. “If you don’t want my help then I’ll just go back to my brothers. They need me more than you.”

“No.”

You furrowed your brows, sitting back down.

This time, he let you apply the paste to the arch of his brow, he hissed for a moment but breathed out instead.

He looked like he was searching for words to say.

“I’m sorry.”

You paused, your index and middle finger stuck on his brow.

“Again?” You said, looking at him.

He was about to reply with another sarcastic quip of his but he decided against it, wanting to really talk with you this time, seriously.

“I said I’m sorry.”

You were taken aback, but you nodded. “I thought I’d have to meet Eywa first before I can hear you say that.” You joked.

Ao’nung half-heartedly chuckled at your remark.

“But I do not know if you really mean that.” You say, now continuing to apply the paste to his injuries.

“I do mean it.” He says, staring at you.

You looked at him, this time you only realized how stunning he looked.

For Ao’nung, seeing your face this close sent his thoughts on a frenzy, were you really this breathtaking before?

“But that still doesn’t justify the way you treated us. Why must you hate us this much?” You say, removing eye contact with him to focus on his wounds.

“I do not- I do not hate you.” He said.

“Then why treat us like this? Calling us a freak. I know we’re different, laced with demon blood- but we’re still the same as you, we grew up here in Pandora, we eat the same, we work the same as you do. How are we any different as a Na’vi?”

Ao’nung was silent again. You were right. It was the first time someone talked to him like that and it stunned him.

“Forgive me. I do not know what else is out there, I’ve only been used to the ocean, with our people. Seeing you guys felt different.”

You understood his side. This time, you applied a cooling paste to his bruises to lessen the pain.

“So you don’t hate me?” You asked.

“No. But I understand if you hate me.” Ao’nung said.

You sigh. “I only acted like this because of how you did. But hey,” you offered your clean hand to him with a smile.

“Since we now understand where we came from, I hope this can give us a fresh start. Truce?”

Ao’nung looked at your hand before looking at you.

He shook your hand softly, squeezing. It sent some kind of electric shock into his veins straight to his heart. He liked the idea.

When you felt Ao’nung’s hand grip yours, you instantly felt relieved, a slight purple hue tinting your cheeks as he gave your hand a light squeeze.

“Truce.”

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jake-g-lockley · 1 year

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Sweet Aftertaste (Javier Peña x reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Wanna Be Tagged?

A/N: Sort of the sequel to “Cookies and Whiskey” but it can most definitely be read as a stand alone. Dedicated to @lil-stark cuz she’s been giving me the best ideas AHHHHH

Warnings: MDNI, smut, slight somno, cockwarming, marking (hickeys), unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving, kinda m receiving too, you’ll see), male masturbation, creampie, cum eating, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, dirty thoughts 🌚 (lmao let me know if I missed any haha)

Word Count: 2.8 k (of smut y’all)

You wake up with your face pressed in the pillow, a heavy weight pressing over your back. Everything ached around your body and you were hyper aware of the huge hand that had cupped your left tit, your bottom half numb with the pressure that was over you.

Suddenly the weight above you shifted, almost like he was aware you were awake and you felt whatever was between your legs. You stifled a moan as your pussy clenched around the cock that was speared deep inside of you. Your eyes fluttered open and soft light was flooding into the room, which either means you and him were at it for hours or he had fallen asleep with himself buried deep inside of you.

The soft snores from the man above you made you realise that he was still fast asleep, despite his cock being hard as a rock inside of you. You tried to shift, to relieve yourself a little from the aching throb that had started in your pussy, but to no avail.

You slid your hand down to your clit, and started to rub in small circles, the throbbing slowly ebbing out into waves of pleasure. Javier shifts slightly again, this time giving you enough room to gently move yourself up and down his length, your soft gasps and whimpers delivered straight into the pillow under you. It wasn’t long until your climax hits you, a long sigh pushing out of your lungs as you clench uncontrollably around Javier’s cock.

“I’m here, I’m here.” Javier answers and you finally realise that you were whimpering his name over and over as you came.

“Mornin’” you sigh as Javier tightens his grip around you and pushes his hips further into you

“Good morning to you too, princesa. Remember what I said last night?” he murmured into your ear as his fingers lightly pinched your nipple, making you melt further into the bed as your mind raced to figure out what he was on about.

You vaguely remembered attacking Javier with kisses after he and you munched on cookies. He scooped you up bridal style and you remembered refusing to fall asleep, despite being so sleepy that your eyes could barely stay open.

“We have work tomorrow, hermosa, go to sleep.” Javier had whispered.

But even his own resilience had snapped when your lips attached themselves to his neck, slowly turning every patch of skin a different colour, drawing out soft moans from his beautiful mouth.

He took control soon after, flipping you over and slowly undressing you, trailing kisses on every open patch of skin he could gain access to. He fixated on your tits, giving them both equal attention, letting your legs wrap around his torso as he sucked and licked at you, your body arching off the bed to meet his ministrations.

Two of his fingers slipped into your mouth and you sucked them at the same pace as Javier, grabbing ahold of his hand and wetting the two digits with your saliva. Javier smiled against you as he slowly pulled his fingers out, shifting slightly lower down your body and pressing his nose to your clothed mound. He inhaled deeply as his fingers trailed their way down your body.

“Can I please taste you, baby?” Javi keened, his other thumb rubbing small, soft circles on thigh, causing your legs to part further.

“Yes, Javi, please.” the bruises you left on Javier bloomed beautifully on his neck and you lazily smiled at the thought of him having to wear a tie in the Bogotá heat.

He gave you a look of pure ecstasy before diving in once more, licking a long wet strip up your clothed cunt, causing you to tilt your hips towards his face with a bruising moan. Gently, his two pinkies hooked themself onto the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and exposing your cunt to the cold air of the room.

He tucked your already wet panties into his sweats pocket as he brought his two wet fingers to your clit, rubbing gently at your hardening nub. Before you can let out a moan, Javier’s tongue was on you, licking broad strips before paying all attention to your clit, latching himself there and sucking hard, causing you to cry out as he pushed his fingers into you.

“Javi, don’t stop, keep going baby, please!”

It didn’t take him long to pull out an orgasm from you, making you writhe against the bed, the slight course burn of his moustache riling you up further. He didn’t let you come down from your high, effectively trying to pull your second orgasm as your hands slid into his locks, gripping them hard, causing him to eat you out more vigorously. Your legs shook hard, thighs pressing against the side of his face as you whimpered through your release, softly uttering Javi’s name.

As you tried to breathe and stop the room from spinning, Javier was already on his knees, pulling his sweats off and tossing them aside, revealing his throbbing cock. He wiped the access of your release and his saliva from your cunt, using the moisture to lube himself up. You watch him, his face covered with your spend, his hair out of place, his tanned body glistening with sweat, his cock long and hard in his fist.

With one hand, Javier flips you over. You push your butt up, exposing your cunt for Javier and feel him push inside you, stretching you out. The both of you stutter out your moans until Javier bottoms out, his pubic bone flush against your ass. You silently get ready for the hardest railing of your life when suddenly Javier pushes you down and lays on top of you, his mouth against your ear.

“Be a good girl and keep my cock inside you all night. I’ll fill you up to the brim in the morning, watch as you walk around all day at the office with me in you.” Javi’s filthy words flooded through your body like a wave and you whimpered.

“Go to sleep, I need you to be well rested, amor.” he whispered, kissing the shell of your ear.

You have no idea how you or him fell asleep, but exhaustion was apparent between the two of you as you drifted off finally.

Now, you gasped as he moved his hips and pulled his cock slightly out before pushing back in.

“Fuck Javi.” You moan and he chuckles delectably, his morning voice tuning up your arousal.

You stay planted against the mattress as Javier raises up and anchored himself with his elbows, bending down slightly to press a kiss onto your shoulder. He starts out slow, canting his hips back and forth, creating a soft rhythm that harmonised with your moans.

“Feel that baby? Taking me so well, my cock speared in you for hours, keeping you all stretched out.” Javier began to speed up, the angle causing the head of his cock to nudge against the spot that made your thighs shake.

“Just like that Javi, fuck, so fucking good.” You groan into the pillow.

“Pretty baby, perfect pussy, all mine.” Javier take it up a notch, pressing you down with brute force and fucking down into your cunt, his hands gripping hard at your hips.

“Javi, I’m close, please.” You whine as Javi hits all the right spots.

“Come for me, hermosa. Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” He’s grinding into you now, you cunt clenching his cock a little too tightly.

Your whole body clenched inwards as you came, Javi’s name spilling out of you like a prayer, his voice coaxing you through, whispering generous praises.

“Javi?” You ask as you float back down to Earth.

“Hmm?” He was lazily fucking into your cunt, his hips barely moving.

“I wanna see you come.” You whisper, suddenly realising that he hadn’t had his own release since the night before.

You silently wondered where he got all the stamina from, his cock harder than ever inside you. He obliges your command, pulling gently as possible out of you and turning you over. He looks beautiful in the morning glow, his sleep-addled eyes making you smile happily up at him.

He takes your legs and places them on either side of his shoulders before slotting himself inside of you once again, pushing a shaky breath out of you. The new angle gave you a new rush of arousal as Javi looked down at you, absolutely in awe.

His hand reaches down to graze your face as he takes all of you in. You reach out and let your fingertips slightly dance against his abdomen, tracing his tummy as he leans slightly forward.

“You’re so beautiful, Javier Peña. You know that?” you lazily whispered into the air as your eyes fluttered close, not before catching the pretty pink flush creeping up his neck.

Javi strained, willing himself not to come just at your words. They were so soft, so you. He couldn’t believe that he had you with him right now, his hand taking yours and lacing your fingers with his.

He needed to feel you, to see you and know that this was really happening. Your thumb reassuringly stroked the back of his hand and he began to move, very slowly thrusting himself in and out of you. He wanted to close his eyes but they were fixated on the way your tits jiggled rhythmically from the way he was moving, the fluidity of your body structure egging him on.

His free hand trails down your abdomen, grabbing your flesh slightly as he paced himself again, not wanting to hurt you from the intensity of his pleasure. You could tell he was holding back but as your eyes found his, you let him have this moment of control as the sounds of your moans and his combined.

Suddenly, he gasped a little, as if holding in a breath, his hand trailing slightly lower and his thumb started rubbing slow pressured circles to your abused nub, making you arch your back slightly at the overstimulation, your eyes shutting fully.

“I know you can give me one more bebita, just breathe and eyes on me.” Javi’s voice was airy and your eyes snapped open.

“Come... with me, please. Fill… me” You stuttered out, despite knowing the fact that Javi had been planning it all along.

Javier pressed his whole body forward, folding you in half, surprised at your flexibility as the both of you came together, Javier’s hips stilling and shooting his load deep into you. Your cunt clenched hard, milking him for all his worth.

You came to first, smiling up at Javier and wiping sweat off his brow, pushing yourself upward to give him a big thank you kiss. Javier chuckled as you kissed him, pulling away after a while so that you could get comfortable.

He watched as his spend mixed with yours dribbled out of your cunt as he pulled himself out, resisting the urge to push it all back with his fingers. You narrowed your eyes at him and slid your hand down your abdomen, collecting his cum that had dribbled out and brought it up to your mouth.

Javier watched open-mouthed as you sucked your fingers clean, putting up a little show for him as your other hand grabbed one of your tits and your back arched up. You opened your mouth to show him and watched him with big doe-like eyes that made him want to repeat every single thing he did to you all over again. You closed your mouth and swallowed, smirking up at him as he reminded himself to breathe.

“Oh you devil woman.” He hissed, gathering you up in his arms.

“Only yours.” You whispered back with a wink as Javier stood up and carried you bridal style into the bathroom, smiling as you gently kissed his jaw before tucking your face into the space at his neck.

Javi puts you down and turns on the rain shower and he pulls you close so that your back is flushed to his chest grabbing his shampoo bottle and lathering the product into your hair. You couldn’t help but moan at the way his dexterous fingers started massaging your scalp. Javier stared warningly down at you as his cock started hardening again against your behind.

Despite getting riled up again, he silently continues to slowly massage your head and you’re literally in ecstasy, your moans and groans filling up the shower and mingling with the steam. Once he's rinsed out all the shampoo, he gets a washcloth and starts gently rubbing your body and your heart swelled with happiness at the way he was treating you.

He softly kissed the marks that he had left on your body and whispered apologies against your skin, barely audible over the sound of the shower and the water hitting your bodies. Javier dropped to his knees and rubbed between your legs, making you gasp softly. It was his time to smirk up at you and you internally rolled your eyes exasperatedly at him as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

After he’s done with you, he turns off the shower and wraps you up in a towel, practically kicking you out of the shower as you kiss him a little too deeply again. You respect the fact that Javier needed a little alone time as you padded your way out of the bathroom to explore his flat and find some clothes for yourself.

The second you closed the door behind you, Javier turned the water as cold as he possibly could handle, his hand finding his hardened cock and his arm bracing himself against the shower wall. He couldn’t get over the thought of you licking his spend of your fingers, behaving in such an erotic manner only for his eyes to see. He bites his bottom lip to keep the unholy sounds from escaping, tightening his fist around his cock, pretending that it was your warm, beautiful mouth.

His eyes were screwed tightly shut as he tried to imagine how his hands would slide into your hair, gripping it tightly at the root as he used you to get himself off. Your muted moans and cries would be too much for him to handle and he wouldn’t last long if you kept gagging around his cock, your throat closing around the head, causing him to shoot his load straight down your oesophagus.

Javier gasped in deep breaths as his cock spurted thick loads of cum, causing him to feel giddy and dizzy. He slowed down his movements to prolong his release, slumping against the shower wall as the water calmed him down from his high, taking big gulps of hair to fill his lungs. He quickly rinsed himself off and dried off, wrapping a towel around his waist and exiting the bathroom.

He heard sounds coming from his kitchen and he went to lean against the wall opposite it, watching you. You had taken one of his shirts and modified it to fit you, the sleeves folded and the excess fabric tied at the front. You were pouring out two cups of coffee before looking up and grinning at Javier. Your hair was partially dried and it was dampening the shoulders of his shirt but he thought you looked absolutely stunning, his smile lopsided and his dimple apparent.

You walked up to him and kissed his cheek, handing him his cup of coffee, which he gladly thanked you for, immediately taking a sip, before setting it down to go and get ready. You slipped into his room and watched as he tucked in his shirt and buckled his belt, grinning shamelessly at the bruises he sported on his neck. You grabbed the tie set out on his bed and pushed him to sit down, standing between his legs.

Javier’s hands rested on your hips as you slowly knotted his tie. You loved the domesticity of the situation, the quiet morning creating a picture of peace for you and him to enjoy. You folded his collar and adjusted it so that the worst of the bruises were covered. You turned around and grabbed his bottle of cologne, spraying it on him before spraying some on yourself. Javier raised his eyebrows at you, amused and you shrugged.

“What? I don’t have my perfume with me.” You said as you capped the bottle and Javier stood up and wrapped his arms around you.

“Might I remind you that you now smell identical to me?’ He said before kissing the soft spot behind your ear.

“So?” You whispered.

“People are going to talk.”

“Let them, Javi.” Your hands trailed up his arms that were around you.

Javi hummed against your neck, agreeing to whatever you were saying. Their opinions didn’t matter anyway, you were his and he was yours and absolutely nothing in this world would change that.

Reblogs are appreciated ~~~

Taglist: @joygirlmelii @wolfbook87 @nyotamalfoy @minigirl87 @alexxavicry @bloodredwolfsbane @euphoricosmo @celiaswife @swiggy-needs-mental-help @ryebreadsworld @your-voice-is-mellifluous @lil-stark @absolutelybloodyhopeless @mintpurplemnm @bubblezuku @cookielovesbook-akie @mandoloriancookie @magic-schoolbusdropout @anony-muse @anonymously35 @nerdreader

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stolenslumber · 6 months

Text

though the stars walk backward (sjy) (part 1)

Your first encounter with Jake Sim ends with ketchup on your clothes and his burger in his friend’s lap. The second encounter doesn’t go so smoothly, either. He thinks he might have gotten the hang of it by the third time, but as the saying goes: there is no easy way from the earth to the stars.

PAIRING: sim jaeyun x female reader GENRE: college au, one-sided enemies-to-lovers (the e2l part is short-lived lol sry), friends-to-lovers, he fell first but then they both fell harder? lmao, soooooo much mutual pining, fluff, romance, jake as a star soccer player but also loser physics nerd, mc is an assistant manager on the soccer team because of Convoluted Reasons WARNINGS: swearing, familial angst/generational trauma WORD COUNT: ~11.8k a/n: lol (said with no humor whatsoever) i decided to post the first half rn and when i say "first half" what i mean is that i intended for this to come out as a complete fic instead of in parts however school is slamming me so hard and i'm contributing by ruining my own life SOOOO who was to say when this would ever see the light of day if it had to be a full fic..... anyways part 2 is like 30-40% written but i probably won't be able to work on the rest until after my semester ends so maybe may? lol (once again w/ no humor)

“Don’t freak out, but I think the girl you stare at in the library is staring back at you.”

Jake freezes with his burger halfway to his open mouth. “What? Where? And I don’t stare at her in the library—”

Jay nudges his friend’s jaw upwards. “I said don’t freak out.”

“At least he didn’t turn in her direction,” Sunghoon offers. But he says it while looking disdainfully at the ketchup dripping from Jake’s burger onto the dining hall table, so Jake isn’t all that comforted by it.

Instead, he repeats “Where?” through gritted teeth.

“At your four o’clock, but I wouldn’t get too excited about it.” Jay squints. “I’m pretty sure she’s glaring at you, honestly. Okay, seriously do not freak out, but she’s coming over here…”

Jake tries to figure out what to do with himself as you approach with alarming speed— should he fix his hair, or tuck his shirt in? Damn it, he doesn’t even remember if he’s wearing something clean today. Before he can fully comprehend it, you’re standing in front of him, looking as pretty as ever in a silky dress that floats down to your ankles.

Your mouth opens to say something, and there’s a deep furrow between your brows that Jake longs to smooth out, but then his hands clamp down on his burger, and— “Oh shit, dude, I’m so sorry!”

Bright red ketchup decorates the front of your pristine white dress.

Your jaw drops, as does your gaze, fixated on the ugly red splotch spreading over the fabric covering your stomach. Everything you’d been meaning to say to him flies out of your head, replaced by blood rushing in your ears as your anger grows at the foolish oaf in front of you. “This is dry clean only,” you hiss.

Jake drops his burger in Jay’s lap, ignoring his friend’s squawk of indignation. Hurriedly, he wipes his hands on some napkins and tries offering them to you before cowing under your withering glare. “I am so sorry,” he repeats. His arms flail at his sides before he picks up the cardigan lying next to him and hands it to you. “You have a library shift coming up, right? Please feel free to wear this until you can get home and change. I have class until two, but I can take your clothes to the dry cleaners afterwards. I’m really so sorry!”

Your mouth shapes around air a few times as you work out exactly how to respond to him, but then your phone buzzes to remind you of your library shift— it is coming up— and you decide that you’ll deal with this— and him— later. Unhappily, you grab the proffered cardigan. “Two o’clock. Don’t be late.” And then you twist on your heel and depart, leaving Jake to stare sadly at the swish of your hair against your back.

“Are you gonna take my clothes to the dry cleaners, too?” Jay intones dryly from beside him.

Jake groans and sinks back down into the booth, covering his face with his hands and shaking his head repeatedly. “I can’t believe that just happened. I have to walk into traffic now.” Before Jay can say anything else, Jake tacks on, “And yeah, give me your pants.”

“Damn, take me to dinner first. Oh, wait, I guess you did offer me food.” Jay plucks the burger out of his lap and deposits it onto Jake’s plate pointedly.

Sunghoon lets out a whistle between his teeth. “Wow, I’ve never seen anyone fumble so badly. Like, seriously, that should be studied in a lab.”

“I got nervous!” Jake exclaims.

Sunghoon chortles. “Clearly. Cute girl comes over, and you not only call her dude, but you also squirt ketchup all over her.”

Jake kicks him in the shin, hard. “Can you not pile on?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Sunghoon holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Was that the first time you interacted with her?”

Unhelpfully, Jay pipes up. “Unless you count staring at her in the library interacting, I’d say yes. Speaking of, how do you know her schedule, bro? You’re creepier than I thought.”

Jake jabs him with an elbow. “My class got canceled once and I saw her at the library then, okay? Some of us actually have homework, Socrates and Warren Buffet.” He rolls his eyes at Sunghoon (philosophy) and Jay (business) in turn. “And again, I don’t stare!”

A few hours later, Jake stares at the back of your head.

He’s not in his usual spot in the library, which is a round table near the windows on the mezzanine level— straight line of sight to one of the reference desks, but he did not pick that spot on purpose, no matter how much his friends like to joke that he did. He’s been sitting in that spot since the first day of his freshman year; he’d chosen it because he likes being able to see out into the quad, and the noise level in that area is perfect for him (not too quiet, which would make him fall asleep, and not too loud, which would just make him want to join in on wherever the fun was). He couldn’t have known that you would show up halfway through last year, get a job as one of the students manning the reference desk, and then occupy the exact spot his eyes tend to rest on when he zones out.

And he really couldn’t have known that you would be so pretty.

It doesn’t help that you’re in practically all of his classes this year, and he’s had the opportunity to talk to you every day for the past two weeks if he wanted to. He’s not the most shameless person in the world (Sunghoon), but he’s also not scared of his own reflection (Heeseung), so why couldn’t he have just introduced himself like a normal person on the first day of classes and avoided this whole ketchup fiasco?

Someone comes up to the desk to ask a question, and your head tilts toward them as the afternoon sunlight frames your face just so; Jake gulps and thinks, Oh yeah, that’s why. So pretty. And dizzyingly smart, if the way he sees your pencil fly over quizzes is anything to go by.

As if sensing his eyes on you, you twist around fully to catch him staring. Jake blinks deer-in-headlights eyes at you; if this was a cartoon, there would be a ?! above his head.

Your eyes narrow at him and you jerk your head in your own direction. Get over here.

Jake gulps and straightens up before shuffling over to you. He kind of feels like he’s walking to the gallows, but on a flower-lined path, because his cardigan on you softens you around the edges, and you look right at home in it.

“Heeeeeeey.” He raises a hand and waves at you, though he’s right in front of you. He winces before you can even raise a skeptical eyebrow at him, but then you do, so he grimaces. “Sorry, that was weird. Uh, hi.”

You nod curtly at him. “Hi. I’m done in two minutes. Thanks for being on time.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he mumbles to the floor. Luckily, you don’t catch it because you’re packing away the problem set you were doing in between answering student questions, which he chances a glance at because hey, he’d been having trouble with page 157.

Of course, you catch that. “What are you, twelve? Do your own work.”

“Wait, what? Hold on a second, I’m not trying to cheat off of you— hey, wait up!” He scrambles to catch up with you where you’re already halfway down the stairs. Panicked, he speeds past you and plants himself in your path, greeted by your look of supreme irritation for the second time that day. “I wasn’t trying to cheat off of you,” he says, more firmly this time. “I was just gonna ask you how you did with page 157, because I was having some trouble with it earlier.”

You scoff and slide to the left to go around him, only to be met by him mirroring you. “Are you serious right now? Get out of my way.”

“We’re going to the same place!”

“Yeah, and now I’ve remembered that I can pay for my own dry cleaning. Move.” You go right, and he follows.

“I’m still coming— I gotta take Jay’s pants there. I dropped my burger in his lap earlier when, well, you know.”

You go left again, and he follows once more. “Okay, for real? Let me go, asshole.”

Jake drops his backpack off his shoulders and hoists it onto his knee, rummaging around in it while still blocking your path. You think he’s officially lost it, but you’re also never one to miss an opportunity, so you feint to the right and then go left, but he’s faster and blocks you again with his head halfway buried in his backpack. Damn it, he’s good. You don’t realize you’ve said that out loud until he looks up at you and smiles sheepishly. “Soccer team,” he explains. Oh— that reminds you why you were approaching him at the dining hall in the first place, and real anger resurfaces in your blood.

“Like I care,” you snap. You’re about to just shove him down the stairs and call it an easy day when you’re met with a crumpled piece of graph paper waved in front of your face. “What the hell is this?”

“Next week’s problem set! See, look, I finished everything except the problems on page 157, and I did get started, but I just wanted to check if I was on the right path, okay? I promise, I wasn’t trying to cheat off of you.” He frowns. “These aren’t even graded for quality. It’s just a submission for completion.”

Your eyebrows climb up your forehead. Though his handwriting is shit, you can see that he’s telling the truth. The fact that he’s doing the problem set for next week probably should have tipped you off in and of itself, but what surprises you is the simple elegance with which his calculations come out. “Hey, how’d you do that on number 89 on page 151—” You cut yourself off. “Never mind. Fine, I believe you. Can you move now? We’re blocking the entire stairway.”

Jake seems to finally notice the build-up of annoyed students in front of and behind you both. “Right, oops.” He zips up his backpack and slings it over one shoulder before descending the stairs with quick steps. He turns around and tilts his head quizzically at you when you don’t follow.

Truthfully, you’re trying to decide if you should make a break for it and go up the stairs so you can take a different set of stairs down, but then you realize how childish that sounds. So, it’s with less dignity than you’d like that you meet him at the bottom of the staircase. But you don’t stop where he’s standing; instead, you breeze past him so smoothly that he finds himself staring at the back of your head for a few seconds before springing into motion after you.

“Soooooo… dry cleaner’s?” He offers you a tentative smile once he’s fallen into step with you.

You seem to have made your mind up about something, because you turn to him with a dazzling smile that knocks the breath right out of his lungs. “Lead the way.”

“O-Okay.” He’s taken aback by your sudden about-face, but he’s not going to question it.

He tells you that he’s happy to drive there, and you’re perfectly agreeable about it. You even start talking about the problem set that had been the source of such strife just minutes earlier. At the dry cleaner, you give him the biggest surprise yet when you ask for his number. Obviously, he gives it to you, and he has to pretend like he isn’t perturbed by the cryptic, almost manic look in your eyes when you promise that you’ll be in touch.

But then you’re gone without so much as a goodbye, and it’s only when he gets back to his place that he realizes he doesn’t even know how you got home, and he can’t text you because he doesn’t have your number.

Still. A win is a win.

ball sports (derogatory) (heeseung, jay, jake, sunghoon)

jake: this has been the strangest and possibly greatest day of my life

sunghoon: ur preaching to the choir ketchup boy

sunghoon: yizhuo told me i was hotter with blonde hair

sunghoon: so like hell yeah she thinks im hot but hell no now i have to dye my hair back

jake: ????? did i ask

jake: i’m talking about MY day

jay: she actually did not say you were hotter with blonde hair. in fact none of those words came out of her mouth

jay: you asked if she liked your new hair and she said no

sunghoon: hop off my dick tf????

heeseung: so what happened jake

sunghoon: oh i can tell u this it’s old news

sunghoon: jake fumbled his first interaction w/ the girl he stares at in the library

jake: BUT she asked for my number and said she’d be in touch!!!!

sunghoon: right so u can pay for her dry cleaning bill

jake: OR maybe she wants to be friends

jake: to lovers<3

jay: idk she kinda looked like she wanted to take you out when she was coming over to us at lunch today

jake: take me out… oh my god LIKE ON A DATE?????

jay: no like

jay: lethally

women’s rights and wrongs (you, minjeong, aeri, somi)

you: so you know how i was gonna confront jake today

yizhuo: yeah i heard that went poorly

yizhuo: sunghoon said something about ketchup????

you: nvm all that. i have a Better Plan. i’m gonna ruin his life

minjeong: cool

somi: noooooo he’s hot

you: HE RUINED MY BROTHER’S LIFE

somi: girl u have to let that go

somi: ur brother is 10 and made it to the B team for club soccer

somi: i think he’ll be fine

you: BUT HE SHOULD’VE BEEN IN THE A TEAM. I SAW JAKE’S BEADY EYES SINGLING HIM OUT UNFAIRLY

somi: he actually has like insane puppy dog eyes

you: anyways i’m going to systematically but subtly make his life more and more difficult as soon as i start assistant managing his soccer team on monday. but he will never know it’s me bc i’m going to be so nice and normal to his face BUT ACTUALLY i’m gonna make him my bitch

yizhuo: “nice and normal to his face” u have the worst poker face i’ve ever seen

minjeong: technically speaking if ur an assistant manager aren’t u THEIR bitch

For reasons you cannot fathom, the men’s varsity soccer team has practice on Monday mornings, at the crack of dawn. You’re beginning to regret giving up your reasonably timed library shifts where you basically got paid to sit there and do your homework and check out computer chargers to students every now and then, but these are the things you do when you’re trying to be a good sister.

Autumn has arrived abruptly— almost overnight, if the smattering of ambers and ochres falling from the trees lining the soccer field is anything to go by. You realize you’re dressed entirely inappropriately for the weather when your teeth are chattering and your eyes are watering from the sting of the cold. The dress you’d picked out last night for today seems laughable now.

“What are you doing here?” Jake’s voice, so unexpectedly close, makes you jolt and flail around a bit before turning to meet his confused expression— head tilted, eyes wide, and damn it, Somi’s right, he does have insane puppy dog eyes.

You gesture vaguely at the field. “I’m one of the new assistant managers. Surprise! Told you I’d be in touch.”

“Speaking of— did you get home alright the other day?”

“Yeah, of course, I just walked.”

He wants to be concerned about that answer— the closest student accommodations are at least a thirty minute walk away from the dry cleaner’s— but then he sees you hop from one foot to the other while rubbing your arms. You look so out of place with your heeled mary janes sinking into the dew-damp field with every hop, but it’s so cute that he has to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from grinning too widely. In a move that now feels familiar, he digs around in his bag before pulling out a spare sweatshirt and handing it to you.

Appreciation for his kindness and irritation at his kindness play tug-of-war inside of you for all of two seconds before a particularly brisk gust of wind hits you, and then you’re yanking the sweatshirt over your head and breathing in clean soap and something else unfairly cozy. “Thanks,” you mumble.

“Sure thing. Here, take this, too.” Jake digs around in his bag some more and emerges triumphant with a thermos. He twists the cap off and pours some liquid into the cap before offering it to you.

It smells like… “Hot chocolate?”

“With two espresso shots, because we have intro to Python right after practice today.”

You grimace in unison at that reminder, and you’re kind of glad that that’s the last expression on your face before you sip at the drink, because it’s perfect, and you have to refrain from letting your eyes roll to the back of your head. So he’s practical, makes delicious hot drinks, and, because you’re not immune to those big brown eyes, attractive. It’s a pity he was such a jerk to your brother, because otherwise you’d be swooning.

But he must have seen something change in your face, because he lets out a giggle— oh no, it’s so cute— and hands you the entire thermos. “I think you need it more than me,” he explains.

You try to remind yourself of your brother’s disappointment after club soccer try-outs last week, which you had seen from your totally not-creepy position, brooding inside your stepdad’s car over how to best connect with this 10-year-old kid who was just old enough to recognize that girls had cooties and not old enough to share any genuine interests with you. It was less creepy because you were there to pick your brother up, but you feel like you’re not any closer to him than a stranger (in fairness, you hadn’t known that he existed before last year). You’ve tried, in fits and starts, to get to know MJ better, to actually form some sort of sibling bond with him, but most of the time, you’re his glorified chauffeur. He tries, too, and your heart goes all fuzzy when you notice it, but there’s only so far that a 10-year-old whose greatest joys in life are cookies ‘n cream ice cream (understandable), and soccer (more confounding) can get before he decides that his Nintendo is more readily enjoyable.

The look on MJ’s face after try-outs last week had spurred you to apply for the assistant manager position. He was so sad about the B team, and you did the whole comforting, cajoling song-and-dance as best as you could, but he had just snapped at you that you didn’t get it, that you couldn’t get it. And then he had burst into frustrated tears, and you vowed at that moment to learn everything you could about soccer, as well as to give Jake Sim a piece of your mind.

Jake Sim, whom you had only known as the guy that finished the first lab faster than anyone else in your extrasolar research methods class, until you saw him blowing a whistle on the sidelines of MJ’s soccer try-outs, looking like he had some sort of authority as he directed a group of kids, including MJ, in a series of drills. Later, you found out from Minjeong that Jake is a star player on your school’s soccer team, so he presumably has some basis for helping out with the local club soccer team, but you hadn’t been all that interested in finding out more. You’d seen enough from the way he took MJ aside after the teams had been announced, and MJ’s subsequent tears in the car, and you knew vengeance would be yours.

Unfortunately, vengeance is currently offering you hot chocolate with two espresso shots, and he is distressingly earnest when he wraps your hands around the thermos and points you in the direction of the other assistant managers who are supposed to onboard you. So, you bid Jake a stiff goodbye as you try to ignore the warmth spreading from the tip of your nose down into your throat. It’s definitely the hot chocolate, but you’re annoyed at even the possibility that it could be connected to Jake.

women’s rights and wrongs

yizhuo: so how’s world domination (ruining jake’s life) going?

you: hard to say. he gave me a sweatshirt and hot chocolate bc i’m wearing a stupid ass outfit and it’s cold as hell out here

minjeong: he said that?!

you: no I’M saying that

you: i need to change my entire wardrobe so i’m never caught unawares like this ever again. i let my guard down and this is what happens.

somi: a guy is nice to u? yeah god forbid

you: HE IS BESMIRCHING MY HONOR (AVENGING MJ)

minjeong: jeez you get so victorian when you’re distressed

somi: sorry are we ignoring the fact that he gave her a sweatshirt and hot chocolate????

minjeong: omfg YEAH that’s like. bf behavior

you: oh fuck there’s some sort of commotion going on out there in the field

you: omg they’re bringing a STRETCHER out

you: i gotta go guys ttyl xoxo etc.

yizhuo: notice how she never responded to the bf behavior allegations

Jung Sungchan, team captain, is down and out for the count after being wheeled out of practice on a stretcher with a torn ACL. This is reasonably concerning to everyone on the team, but none more so than to Jake, who finds himself at the receiving end of a Serious Talk about leadership qualities and such from his coach that ends with, “... and that’s why we want you to fill in for Sungchan while he’s recovering.”

“Huh?” Jake tilts his head at his coach. He must have misheard; there’s no way they want him to fill in for Sungchan.

“The seniors love you, the underclassmen look up to you, your peers respect you, and all the coaches agree. Sungchan will come back as soon as he’s able, but he won’t be able to actually play this season, so you’ll have to keep up the leadership on the field and off. We’re confident in your abilities. Good man.” His coach claps him on the shoulder, and that’s the end of it.

Jake is still staring dumbly in his coach’s departing direction when you approach him with his cardigan, sweatshirt, and thermos.

You had planned to just give him his stuff and leave, but curiosity gets the better of you after having witnessed the spectacle out on the field. “Everything alright? Who got carried out on that stretcher?”

Still a bit shell-shocked, Jake speaks without thinking: “Worried it was me?”

You look at him like he’s an alien species. “It clearly wasn’t, because whoever it was is much taller than you.”

Jake frowns up at you. “Okay, no need to go for the height. That was my captain, who’s gonna be out for the rest of the season, so now Coach wants me to fill in for him… I don’t know what he’s thinking. I mean, I get that seniority isn’t everything, but this feels kinda unfair to any of the seniors who could’ve stepped in for Sungchan.”

“How convenient to have everything handed to you on a silver platter,” you mutter. It’s an entirely unjustified thing to say— you barely know Jake or anything about his background, but then MJ’s tear-stained face flashes across your mind, and you don’t feel so bad about it.

Genuine hurt and a hint of actual anger sparks in Jake’s eyes. “Okay, what’s your problem? I get that I didn’t make the best of first impressions the other day, but I apologized and tried to make up for it— you can just text me the bill from the dry cleaner’s, by the way— and I don’t know what else I’ve done to upset you, but I’m sorry for whatever that is, too. Are we good, or is there something else you’ve got against me?” His last question comes out almost aggressively as he stands up, bringing him not quite chest-to-chest with you, but close enough that you notice the perfectly defined cupid’s bow of his lips, and then you’re disgusted with yourself. College hormones have made you fallible; it shouldn’t sway you that he’s cute (and kind, and smart, and considerate, your brain reminds you unhelpfully).

“We’re good,” you snap. “Here’s your stuff.” You shove the things he gave you into his arms before whipping around sharply to walk (stomp) away, pointedly ignoring his surprised yelp when your hair hits him in the face. Childishly, you think that it serves him right.

Sadly, your conscience comes back to haunt you approximately 18 hours later, at which point you’re pulling out ingredients and clanging whisks against bowls.

Minjeong sticks her head into the kitchen to ask, “What are you doing?”

You freeze in your movements, letting a particularly clumpy spot of brownie batter fall from your raised spatula back into the mixing bowl. “Cleaning,” you lie baldly. One unimpressed eyebrow raise from her gets you to clear your throat and put down your spatula. “Making brownies,” you amend.

“At midnight?”

“Yeah, I just had… a craving.”

Minjeong seems to consider pushing you on this, but the smell of the brownie batter wins her over. “Awesome, can I have some?” She moves to dip her finger into the batter.

“No!” You shriek, covering the bowl with your arms crossed on top of each other in an X.

Minjeong pulls her hand back and looks at you with alarm. “Why? What’s wrong?”

You sigh and retreat from the bowl. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. Um, I’m making brownies… for Jake—”

“For who now?”

“—’s soccer team,” you finish, turning to glare at Somi and her untimely entrance.

She only waves slyly at you from where she’s leaning against the doorway of the kitchen. “Y’know, it’s not really his soccer team. It’s the school’s soccer team, or maybe Jung Sungchan’s, but sure, let’s call it Jake’s, too.” She tsks. “Pretty privilege.” You give her a pointed up-and-down, to which she just shrugs.

Minjeong seizes you by the shoulders and peers aggressively into your eyes, ignoring your surprised yelp. “Why are you making guilt brownies for Jake Sim?”

“They’re not guilt brownies!” You splutter, waving your hands in front of her face as if that will stave off the gleam of interrogatory insanity in her eyes.

Drawn by her nose and her ears, Yizhuo chooses that point to wander into the kitchen, as well. “Who are the guilt brownies for?”

You groan and drop your face into your hands. Somi and Minjeong exclaim “Jake Sim!” in gleeful unison before dissolving into giggles.

Yizhuo decides to show you mercy, bless her heart, because all she does is come over to inspect the brownie batter and hum noncommittally. Of course, she ruins it when she spots what’s on the stove and gasps dramatically, “Guys, she made ganache! These are, like, mega guilt brownies!”

Back when the four of you first started living together last year, you were a mid-year transfer student whose sudden appearance had forced Somi, Minjeong, and Yizhuo’s two-room triple to turn into a two-room quad, and your guilt about disrupting their living arrangements had led you to bake them brownies from scratch— cocoa powder, chopped chocolate, browned butter, espresso, and everything. The girls had clamored for the recipe (your mother’s). Since then, you have happily moved out of the dorms and into a subsidized student apartment, but you each continue to make variations of the brownies for each other as peace offerings after a spat, or celebrations, or gestures of comfort.

And now, as an apology for being mean to Jake Sim, which is how you summarize it to your still-giggling roommates.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll like them,” Yizhuo offers, with a poorly-concealed smirk.

“They’re for the team,” you repeat.

“Riiiiiight, and is the team with us in the room right now?” Somi wiggles her eyebrows at you, then her shoulders, then her entire body, and it’s so absurd that you tear up from laughing too hard. You had moved across the country for your brother, and you hadn’t expected anything else would come out of it, but now you have the best of friends, who hold a piece of your heart, and you, theirs. The thought makes you unexpectedly emotional, so much so that you begin making another batch of brownies.

“These are just I’m really glad we’re friends brownies,” you sniffle.

Somi exchanges a look with Minjeong and Ningning, and then they’re all descending upon you in a hug; one big mess of limbs and love. It’s absolutely wonderful.

The next day, you carry multiple containers of brownies around with you all day, looking for a chance to offload them (and your guilty conscience) onto Jake. It shouldn’t be this hard— you share four out of five classes with him this semester, and you’re supposed to be at two soccer practices a week in rotation with the other assistant managers, as well as every other game. But everywhere you turn, Jake is either slipping out of class before you can get to him, or he arrives just before the professor starts lecturing and you’re already seated with your pencil poised over paper.

You’re not on rotation for practice today, so you spend a rather agitated handful of hours doing schoolwork after classes, until you get a last-minute text from your stepdad asking if you can pick MJ up.

Of course, you get the shock of your life when you get to the address your stepdad sent you and see Jake Sim playing soccer with your brother at some local park. You’re not alone in your surprise; Jake makes a full stop upon catching sight of you and gets a soccer ball to the head for it, knocking him fully down to the ground. Thankfully, he pops back up immediately, just in time to catch you speeding past him to fuss over MJ.

“What on earth are you doing here alone?!” You exclaim to your brother, looking around as if the rest of his soccer team will materialize out of thin air. “Did that bad man lure you out here?”

Jake’s eyes bulge out of his head as he looks around at the zero other people on the field before pointing to himself and mouthing Me? at you.

MJ just shrugs and points at Jake. “Practicing with Jake hyung.”

“Jake hyung?” You squint at the offender in question.

“Yeah, he’s been helping me get ready for next season’s tryouts.” MJ scuffs the toe of his shoe against the grass, clearly embarrassed by your fretting.

“Hey, Minjae, is this your… sister?” Jake asks tentatively. The question itself is innocent enough, but irritation and jealousy set your blood buzzing; MJ rarely lets you call him Minjae. He claims MJ is cooler, and he doesn’t let your mother call him Minjae, either, but your stepdad calls him Minjae freely and with an abundance of returned affection.

“Yep.” MJ pops the p as he looks between the two of you, now sensing that whatever is going on here is larger than him. “Uh, can I go to the bathroom?”

“Sure.” You and Jake respond in unison, which makes you glare and him blush.

“Okay, cool. See ya.” MJ races off to the porta-potties with unusual enthusiasm, but you suppose he’d rather be there than here to witness the breakdown of normal social interaction between you and Jake.

The instant MJ is out of earshot, you whirl on Jake and demand, “How do you know my brother?”

Instinctually, he puts his hands up in surrender. “He looked like he was pretty down on himself after club try-outs last week, so I talked to him and offered to run drills with him, like, once a week, okay? I’m not some…. bad man!”

“Oh.” You deflate in front of his eyes as you realize the depths of your misunderstanding. “Well… okay.”

He eyes you apprehensively. “We’re good?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re… good.” The words remind you of the acerbic encounter you had with him the day before, which reminds you of the guilt brownies, which reminds you of the guilt. Like everything else in your life, you decide to get over this with clinical efficiency. “Listen, I owe you an apology. Probably several. I was picking up MJ from try-outs last week, and I saw him with you, and then he was crying in the car, so I jumped to conclusions about you and your role in the try-outs. That’s why I came over to you at lunch the other day, to tell you off.” You take a deep breath and barrel on, mindful of your brother’s likely imminent return. “I shouldn’t have assumed. I’m sorry, Jake.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay, really, don’t worry about it.” Jake rubs the back of his neck and looks anywhere but at you. He’s never seen you like this before— contrite, sincere, and concentrating so fully on him that he wants to either hide his face from you or do something even stupider, like ask you out. Instead, what comes out of his mouth is, “I think the dry cleaning is ready, if you want to go pick it up right now. With me. Or without me, I guess. I can just, like, be there. And you’ll be there, too. But we’ll be there separately. Wow, should I stop talking?”

That prompts laughter from you, and his breath catches in his throat at the wonder of watching delight unfold across your face. In that moment, sunlight emerges from behind a patchwork of clouds, but it’s your laughter that warms him from head to toe.

“Let me just drop MJ off at home, and then I’ll come with you to the dry cleaner. Together, not separately.” Your eyes twinkle in residual amusement at him, and he lets himself break out into a goofy grin.

MJ makes his presence known by loudly asking why the two of you are just standing there smiling at each other, and if Jake can walk home with you all. Jake manufactures a coughing fit and you ignore MJ’s first question, but you say yes to the second one.

MJ cheers and starts tugging Jake along in the direction of your mother and stepdad’s house. You trail behind them in bemused amusement; they talk about soccer the whole time, and Jake is playful and patient but never condescending with the boy that clearly idolizes him. Watching Jake interact with your brother is bittersweet— it’s so easy between them, in a way that you’ve never experienced yourself. By the time you reach the house, MJ has extracted a promise from you both that he can attend Jake’s next home game.

At the door, MJ fist-bumps Jake and is magnanimous enough to allow you to kiss his cheek goodbye. You send him off with a, “Be kind!” and he hollers back, “I know!”

And then it’s just you and Jake, who’s looking at you with a newfound curiosity that makes you nervous. “What?” You snap, and then you instantly backtrack. “Sorry, I, uh, I’m still a little wound up from—” thinking you were a jerk— “… earlier.”

“All good.” Jake tips his head towards the sidewalk, and you realize you’re still on the doorstep of MJ’s house. You follow Jake onto the sidewalk, where he asks, “Do you always tell him to be kind?”

It’s the last thing you expected him to ask. “Um, yeah. Not that he’s a mean kid or anything, but my mother always told me to be good, and I’ve heard her say the same thing to him, so I just… want him to hear something different.” Because be good just means be quiet and perform well, and you already go to therapy every other week for that.

Jake beams at you. “That’s awesome. You’re a great sister.”

He’s saying all the things that would be right for someone else, but for you, they’re all the wrong things. Still, there’s no way he could know that, and it’s not his fault, so you try to tone down your wince. “Thanks, but I barely know how to talk to MJ. He’s old enough to find it lame to just hang out with his sister, and we don’t have a lot in common. That’s why I applied to be an assistant manager, actually— I’m trying to learn more about soccer.”

“Sounds like best-sibling-of-the-year behavior to me. Seriously, I have an older brother— he’s the one who introduced me to soccer— and we have a great relationship, but he never joined the orchestra for me, or anything like that.” Jake nudges your shoulder with his. “And hey, if you want to learn more about soccer, you can ask me anything, anytime.”

He turns eyes so kind and earnest on you that your thought process halts and then restarts like a broken record. You have to grab onto the closest coherent thought before you stare at him for too long. “You were in the orchestra?”

Jake wrinkles his nose. “Yeah, but I was pretty average with a violin. Dumb jock, you know?” He smiles at you to let you know he’s joking.

Thankfully, you smile right back. “Soooo true. Remind me how long the first extrasolar research methods lab took you?”

He blushes and waves you off. “Ah, well, that’s the kind of stuff I want to do in the future, so I better get good at it, right?” He lowers his voice, even though there’s no one around who could possibly overhear his nerdy confession. “Honestly, I cried a little when the first images from the James Webb telescope came out.”

In equally hushed tones, you respond, “Me, too.”

Jake grins. “Aerospace engineering, right? Your brother did say that his sister loves machines and stars.”

The fact that MJ talked about you at all is enough to have you floating on air. “Yeah, that’s me. And hey, this is us.” You point to the sign for the dry cleaner.

“Oh. We got here fast.” Jake tries— and likely fails— not to sound too disappointed. But you’ve already gone ahead into the store, so he leaves behind his foolish desires (walking back to where you’d dropped your brother off and then here again, if only to spend more time with you) at the door.

In the store, Jake gives Jay’s pants a perfunctory once-over to check that they’re fine, but his attention is mainly focused on your dress— it comes back perfectly clear of any ketchup stains, to which he lets out a loud, relieved sigh.

You eye him strangely for that reaction. “I know I was a bit high-strung about it at the time, but it wouldn’t have been the end of the world if my dress was ruined. I wouldn’t, like, come after you with a pitchfork.”

He pauses for a second to let that image play out in his mind. “Y’know, I didn’t think you would, but now that you’ve brought up the possibility…” He grins when you laugh and shove lightly at his shoulder. “But seriously, it would have been a shame. You looked really nice in that dress.” The words tumble thoughtlessly out of his mouth, but he can’t bring himself to regret it when he sees your mouth part in surprise before flattening into a tiny, pleased smile.

“I would hope so. I have excellent taste,” you say, trying to sound haughty and ending up somewhere near flustered. There’s heat in your cheeks; you’re stuck between wanting to wipe that boyish smirk off of his face and wanting to frame the way it looks.

“So… are you headed back to your house?” Jake tries out what he wants to say next in his head, first: And would you mind if I walked you there?

“Oh, yeah. It’s getting kind of late. I think your friend— Sunghoon? Yizhuo invited him over for dinner tonight, actually, if you… also want to come.” You cringe at how awkward that sounded. “I mean, not that it’s going to be a big thing, or anything. Minjeong and Somi are making an insane amount of mac ‘n cheese, because there was a really good sale at the grocery store, so we’re just trying to offload it, really. There’s gonna be a bunch of people there.”

Jake’s head tilts in confusion. “Your friends live with your family?”

“What? No, we’re in an apartment on Maplewood. MJ lives with his parents, but I don’t live there.” You grimace. “I go there for family dinner once a week, so that’s where I went after we came to the dry cleaner for the first time. But that’s only on Wednesdays, thank god.”

Jake hums noncommittally. There’s more he’d like to ask, to know, to understand, but then his stomach growls, and he laughs sheepishly. “I’ll gladly take you up on the mac ‘n cheese. I need some fodder to tease Sunghoon with, anyways. Seeing him with Yizhuo always does it.”

“The will-they-won’t-they childhood-menaces-to-who-knows show?”

“Exactly. So, tell me about aerospace engineering…”

The walk to your apartment is long by any measurement, but it passes by quickly. Jake asks you genuine questions about propulsion systems and your friends, and you learn that he loves superhero movies, his family dog, and poetry, of all things. He’s endearingly bashful about the last one.

“Physics is pretty dry at the undergraduate level, even when it’s astrophysics. But the way that poets talk about the stars… It takes my breath away, a little bit. Reminds me that it’s a marvel to just look heavenward, I guess.” He rubs the tip of his reddening nose. “Silly, right?”

“Not at all.” Romantic, actually, is what you want to tell him. Romantic, because he talks about space like it’s a reverential thing, like a telescope can be a paintbrush through the night sky, like constellations are more than just sets of stars connected by the human eye. But you’ve reached your apartment, so all you say is, “Hold on, let me get my keys.”

“Oh, hey, I can help you with that—”

“No, it’s okay, I got it—”

In the fumble of dry cleaning, backpacks, sports duffels, and totes between you two, somehow every single container of brownies tumbles out of your bag. Jake’s eyes catch on the hasty letters you’d scrawled on duct tape on the lids of each container last night to distinguish between the brownies you ended up making for your roommates: FOR JS & TEAM. His eyebrows shoot up as your face burns; he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, but…

“There was also a sale on baking supplies at the grocery store,” you lie. Then, you shake your head. “Okay, no, that’s not true. I made these last night and I meant to give them to you today but I never got you at the right moment during classes, and then there was the whole thing with MJ, so I almost forgot… Anyways. You said you were worried about the seniors on the team being upset about you for stepping in as interim captain, and I’m sure they’re not so easily swayed by just baked goods, but I thought maybe you could give these to them, as a way to, like, soften the beaches, or something. It’s not much, but I promise, they’re really good.”

Jake’s jaw drops. “You made these… for me? Even when you hated me?”

“I made them for you to give to the team,” you insist. “But, yeah… I did.” You frown at the ground. “Look, I really am sorry about the way I treated you before. I wasn’t going to, like, trauma-dump on you, but I guess I will, now, because I want you to know that I never hated you.” You take a deep breath. “MJ’s mom is my mother, too, but she left my dad and I when I was in elementary school. I didn’t hear from her for a decade, until last year, when she reached out and told me I had a brother on the other side of the country, and she had been pregnant with him when she left my dad and I.”

You chance a glance at Jake. “Please don’t look at me with pity. My dad’s a great guy, and so is my step-dad. I moved out here to be closer to MJ, and you can see how that’s going, but I love him purely, without complication. It’s just my mother who’s… complicated. Anyways, I just got MJ, so I’m a bit overprotective over him, and I was quick to paint you as the bad guy, but that’s no excuse. These are I’m-sorry-for-jumping-to-conclusions brownies. And bribe-your-team brownies.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not looking at you with pity.” It’s awe, he thinks. Awe for your heart, loyal to the point of changing schools and moving across the country for a brother you had never met. Awe for your diligence in making enough brownies to feed an entire team. And most of all, awe at your goodness, for doing all of this because you knew you were in the wrong.

“Can you look at her somewhere where you’re not blocking the doorway?” Sunghoon’s voice pierces through the strange moment. You and Jake move into action all at once, collecting containers of brownies while juggling your other things.

“Thanks for the help, dude.” Jake punches Sunghoon’s shoulder sarcastically.

Sunghoon shrugs and holds up the shopping bags in his hands. “Precious goods, my man.”

Jake peers into one of the bags. “Tiramisu?”

“Yeah, Yizhuo was on my ass about contributing to dinner.” Sunghoon rolls his eyes fondly. “She also told me to marshall the troops for the mac ‘n cheese, so Heeseung and Jay are a couple minutes behind me. Seriously, did you guys buy out the entire grocery store, or something?”

You laugh as you unlock the door and usher them inside. “Or something.” You had heard that the sale really was quite good, but truthfully, you suspect there’s more to it than that. Based on the way Somi exaggeratedly darts her eyes between you and Jake, you think you’re probably right. You get the sense that even if you hadn’t invited him for dinner, he would have shown up with Sunghoon’s contingent anyways.

“Ladies, you are so not slick,” you mutter to your friends when it’s just the four of you in the kitchen.

Minjeong smiles beatifically at you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. This is just an impromptu but no less lovely dinner party for our friends… oh, there’s the door! I’ll get it.”

In a sense, you suppose she’s right. It’s not like Jake is the only other person at this semi-spontaneous gathering; eventually, there are almost 20 people eating mac ‘n cheese on various surfaces in your apartment. It’s an eclectic bunch— pretty much anyone you or your friends knew who was available to come eat mac ‘n cheese. But Minjeong insists that you and Jake share an armchair in the living room because there’s nowhere else to eat, even though there is clearly an open chair next to Heeseung and a free spot on the rug next to some kid from your programming class last year.

“This is really good!” Jake enthuses. He says it while shoveling food into his mouth, so it sounds more like Vif iv weally good! He’s also eating with his non-dominant hand to keep from spilling anything on you where you’re pressed up against each other in the armchair, though that turns out to be fairly counterproductive because he keeps missing his mouth with the fork.

Your head tips back in a fit of giggles. “You look ridiculous,” you inform him. He just grins at you with chipmunk cheeks stuffed with tiramisu. “Here, let me.” You take the fork from his hand and feed him a mouthful; it’s much more efficient this way, you reason to yourself.

He’s so startled by this that he starts choking on the dusting of cocoa powder atop the dessert. You end up thumping him on the back until his airway is clear again, and he hopes you chalk up the redness of his face to the choking.

“Um, you have a little…” You motion to a spot of cocoa powder at the corner of his mouth. He wipes at entirely the wrong corner, and you’d think he was doing this on purpose, except he starts choking again when you use your thumb to wipe the powder away.

He gets over it much more quickly this time, though. Once he’s finally back to normal, he wills himself to summon all— or any— of the charm he has ever possessed to turn warm eyes on you. “Thanks for inviting me here tonight,” he says. There’s a slight rasp to his voice that is probably due to all the choking, but he hopes you think it’s sexy, or something.

“Oh, it’s no big deal. Thanks for helping us eat the food, and for, uh, coaching MJ, I guess?” Your voice is approaching a squeak, which makes you want to die, a little bit. He’s just looking at you so sincerely.

His gaze holds yours. “Easy day. And hey, you’re totally welcome to come join us whenever you want. I was just gonna keep meeting him at that park, so you know where to find us.”

“Thank you,” you repeat, quieter this time. “My mother… she’s hard on him. Always be good, be the best, you know? So he was pretty torn up about not making the A team.”

“I kinda sensed that he was tense during try-outs. Not that it’s bad to try hard, or to want to be on a certain team, but at his age, he could benefit from just… having fun, I think. If you don’t mind me saying that.”

You nod. “Believe me, I agree. MJ’s way too serious for his own good.”

“Some may say he gets it from you,” Jake teases lightly.

“Some may say that’s not how genetics work, but we’ll leave that to the pre-meds.” You tip your head toward Yizhuo, who is arguing about some memory from hers and Sunghoon’s childhood with him. Your heart glows with contentment as you look around the room; all of your favorite people (plus or minus miscellaneous others) gathered in one place on a random Monday night.

Jake carves out a piece of his tiramisu and holds it up to you like a toast. “To the pre-meds. And old friends, and new ones.”

“And new ones,” you echo.

As it turns out, the soccer team is exactly as easily swayed as a container of brownies.

You’re at practice when it winds down and Jake holds up your stack of containers like Simba in that one scene in The Lion King. “A gift from the lady,” he intones grandly to the team gathered in front of him. You nudge him with your hip. “Okay, and me, I guess, but seriously, she did all the work. Listen, guys, I’m not gonna lie— it’s gonna be rough without Sungchan. But I believe in us, and I believe in these brownies!”

“Brownies!” The team roars back. Said brownies are demolished in a matter of minutes, and then every player makes it a point to sing your praises and give Jake a hug or a fist-bump on their way out.

You’re still gaping by the time it’s just you and Jake left on the field. “That’s all it took?”

Jake turns to you with his arms crossed smugly over his chest. “Hmm? Oh, yeah. The way to the heart is through the stomach, and all that.”

“Otherwise known as: men are so easy.” You bemoan all the fancy ingredients and time you put into those brownies; you’re sure the team would have been just as happy with boxed Betty Crocker.

“Yeah, but these taste like care and love,” he insists.

“Alright, buddy, I wouldn’t go that far. And how would you know? You haven’t even tried one yet.”

“Oh my god. You’re right.” Jake looks aghast. “Are there any left?!”

You make a show of looking around at all the empty containers around you. Jake’s face falls so comically and he pouts so fervently that you can’t keep up the ruse for long. Laughing, you pull out one last ziplock bag of brownies from behind your back and present it to him. “Saved one just in case.”

He plucks the bag out of your hands with exaggerated delicacy, which vanishes when he bites into the brownie and lets out an honest to god moan. Heat floods your face immediately.

His eyes are closed when he tells you, quite seriously, that you are a goddess amongst mortals. “Did you drug this? I feel like I’ve ascended to a new plane of existence.” He moans, again, eyes still closed.

“Hello, stop making that sound, you weirdo,” you hiss.

He cracks one eye open to wink at you. “Where is your mind? Get out of the gutter, ma’am. Ow, okay, I get it!” He jumps away from your jabbing elbows. “Seriously, these are incredible. You could make money off of them.”

“You’re just saying that because you want me to make them again, for free.”

“Will you?”

“... Maybe if you let me look at how you got to your answer on number 89 on page 151.”

Jake’s hoot of delight carries you all the way to the library, where he shows you his usual spot and apologizes for ever making you uncomfortable with his staring— it’s just that you used to occupy the spot to which his eyes zoned out.

You give him a blank stare of your own. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I never noticed that you sat here. Or that you stared.”

Jake’s blush starts from the bridge of his nose and spreads out across his cheeks. “Oh, well, that’s good, I guess.”

“But I can sit next to you now, and you can stare all you want,” you offer jokingly.

His blush only intensifies. “Nope, that’s fine, I’ll just keep zoning out at whoever they replaced you with at the reference desk. Great, it’s… Huening.” He waves unenthusiastically at the lanky boy.

“Who?” You squint at your replacement.

“Huening Kai. He’s on the basketball team with Heeseung.”

“Are all of your friends athletes?”

“Not all, but most of them, yeah. Sunghoon and Jay are doubles partners on the tennis team, and they were roommates with Heeseung and I, respectively, so that’s how we all became friends. But I’ve got other friends in the physics department. And now, you.” Jake smiles softly at you, letting the words linger in the air for so long that your pulse starts to pick up speed.

“So, this is the famous staring, huh?” You mean for the words to come out friendly and light, but instead they come out low and musing.

“The one and only.”

“Hmm. It doesn’t make me uncomfortable, if that’s what you’re wondering.” And you mean it. His gaze is warm and easy, like the blanket a loved one draws up over your shoulders when you’re half-asleep.

Confidence returns to him like a boomerang as the corner of his mouth tips up in a smirk. “Are you giving me permission to stare at you?”

“Five minutes of staring for every problem you let me look at in your notebook.”

“We’re bargaining now?” He tsks and pulls out his work, though his shoulders are shaking with laughter. “How about this: you can look at my notebook for as long as you want, if you let me do the same for yours.”

“That’s just called working together, Jake.”

“Sure, but I also get to stare at you.”

“Tough deal for me.” But you’re staring at him, too, and there’s something hesitant and wanting brewing in your chest. It goes away when you clear your throat. “I’m feeling benevolent today, so I’ll allow it.”

Two hours pass by as you work on problem sets in companionable silence. He does stare at you more often than is perhaps necessary, but half of the time it’s because he really is zoning out. The other half… well, just because you’re friends now doesn’t mean you stopped being pretty.

When you finally decide to call it quits, it’s almost 8pm, and both of your stomachs are growling loudly. Jake yawns and stretches leisurely, like a large puppy. You’d laugh at the sight if you weren’t so transfixed by the ripple of a toned stomach exposed by his stretching. Suddenly, you remember that the soccer team does strength training for an hour every other day, and Jake is no exception.

Thankfully, he’s too busy complaining about being hungry to notice your wandering eyes. “Ugh, I think the dining hall is closing now. I have ramen back at my place, if you wanna—” Jake cuts himself off abruptly as he realizes the innuendo behind his words. “I mean, not like that. You probably have food at your apartment, what am I even saying, haha!” His voice goes high-pitched towards the end.

Mercifully, you ignore his slip-up. “Yeah, actually, we still have mac ‘n cheese left, so I’m probably going to microwave some of that. You’re welcome to take some home with you, if you want.” You shake your head immediately after the words come out of your mouth. “What am I even saying? You have ramen back at your place.”

And then you’re back at square one, both staring at each other with wide eyes and heat creeping up your necks.

Jake is the first to break the silence with peals of laughter that dissolve into giggles. You’re not far behind, and it isn’t long before Huening is glaring at the two of you and miming zipping his lips shut.

The two of you make your way out of the library still giggling, but right outside the library doors, Jake asks if he can walk you home. There’s a shy, boyish look on his face when he asks; it stirs up that strange, stumbling desire in you again.

“I really don’t live that far,” you murmur.

“I’m trying to get my steps in,” he jokes. He knows you saw him running back and forth across the field for two hours during practice today.

“I really don’t live that far,” you repeat, already starting in the direction of your apartment. When you don’t hear him follow, you turn around and quirk an eyebrow at him. “Aren’t you coming? Can’t have the star player missing his steps.”

He grins and catches up to you quickly, and then he spends the next ten minutes badgering you for more compliments. You have never felt so warm on the walk home.

Just as promised, you let MJ come to the next home game. It’s your first game as an assistant manager, so between keeping an eye on MJ and keeping an eye on your actual responsibilities, you’re pretty frazzled before the game even starts.

You’re settling MJ into a spot on the bleachers when someone taps your shoulder. You turn around to gasp at the sight of Jake. “Your hair!” The jet-black strands are no more; his hair is now a silvery-tinged blonde.

His smirks as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Team bonding thing we do every year. Jay did it for me this time, though, so it looks better than it normally does.” He crouches down to MJ’s seated level. “Hey, buddy, be kind and stay put for your sister, alright? She’s got a big job today.”

MJ stands up and nods solemnly, then salutes Jake with two fingers that turn into finger guns. The whole display is so ridiculously adorable that everyone around you in the bleachers laughs.

Jake repeats the gesture back at MJ through his own giggles before straightening up and turning to you. “Feeling nervous?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Nah, the playing is easy. Well, it’s not easy, but it’s second nature. I actually find it harder watching from the sidelines, not having any control over the action.” He peers closer at you. “Are you nervous, assistant manager?”

“A little,” you admit. “I still feel like I don’t know much about soccer.”

“MJ could explain everything to you, right?” Jake high-fives your brother. “Sadly, he can’t be with you on the sidelines, but do you see that cat-looking guy over there?”

You squint in the direction Jake points in— a group of his teammates milling around on the sidelines. The cat-looking guy sports amateur-ish frosted tips which make you suppress a chuckle, but he’s easy enough to spot. “Yep, I see him. And the consequences of not having Jay around to dye your hair.”

Jake lets loose a burst of tiny giggles. “He tried his best, okay? And his name is Jungwon. Freshman with a lot of potential, but he sprained his ankle yesterday, so he’s sitting a few games out. He can tell you anything you want to know during the game.” Jake holds his pinky out to you. “You’ll be just fine. I’ll see you after the game, yeah?”

You’re speechless as you nod and wrap your pinky around his. It’s not clear to whose benefit this promise is, but your heart is tap-dancing in your chest at the realization that he came up to the bleachers just to reassure you about the game and ask to see you later.

He releases your pinky and is halfway down the bleachers before you muster up your words to yell at his back, “Good luck!”

When he turns around, he’s beaming. “Don’t need it! You’re here, aren’t you?” Then he’s off to be with his team, and there are people whispering all around you, but all you can do is smile stupidly after him.

“You guys are acting weird,” MJ declares.

“So weird,” Sunghoon agrees.

His sudden appearance makes you yelp. “Sunghoon? When did you get here?”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Just in time to see that whole display.” He points his thumb behind him. “Yizhuo’s just getting snacks from the car. I know you wanted her to watch MJ during the game— do you mind if I tag along? I wanted to see Jake exercise authority as captain, anyways. It’s gonna be hilarious.”

“Knock yourself out. Hey, MJ, this is Sunghoon, one of Jake and Yizhuo’s friends. He’s on the tennis team, so don’t give him too much of a hard time for doing that instead of soccer, okay?” You ruffle MJ’s hair. “I’m gonna go, but I’ll see you after the game. Be kind!”

“I know!”

Down at the sidelines, you meet Jungwon and the rest of the players not in the field today. You’re tentative at first about asking Jungwon questions, but you find that he’s an enthusiastic— and entertaining— commentator. It isn’t long before the other players are clamoring to give you the low-down on what’s happening out on the field, as well as all the latest team gossip.

“... and that’s why Jisung’s girlfriend is ignoring him,” Sohee explains as the first half of the game comes to an end.

“Should you be telling me this?” You laugh, but the question is somewhat genuine.

Beomgyu pats your shoulder. “There are no secrets on the team, and you’re part of the team now!”

“There are no secrets on the team because everyone is a nosy little shit,” Jake says loudly from behind you.

As one, you and the other players turn to face him.

“Heeeeeeey, cap’n!” Jungwon salutes him with a cheeky grin.

Jake eyes him with suspicion. “You’re not scaring off our new assistant manager, are you? We just got her.”

Mischief glints in Jungwon’s eyes. “Absolutely not. We were just telling her about Jisung’s girlfriend. We can move on to talking about the girl you stare at in the library, instead, if that’s better—”

Jake shuts him up with a (light) slap over the head. “No need, thanks!” The blush blooming over his cheeks is not lost on the team, who giggle like schoolchildren.

“The staring really is famous,” you muse out loud.

“I just came over here to make some substitutions,” Jake huffs. Then, like he can’t help it, he shoots you a small smile. “You doing alright?”

You salute him like Jungwon did. “No complaints, captain.” To your delight, he appears flustered by the title coming out of your mouth.

“O-Okay, so Beomgyu, you��re gonna sub in. Wonbin, too, and…”

The second half of the game goes by in a flash; before you know it, Jake has assisted Beomgyu in scoring the final goal, and your team wins 2-1. The crowd is jubilant, and you’re more animated about the win than you had expected. You join in on all the cheering and applauding with enthusiasm to rival that of MJ, whose screeches of delight you can hear all the way down the bleachers.

You can’t even try to look for Jake at first— every player seems to have welcomed you into their hearts now, so you’re bombarded with a chorus of congratulatory hollers and See you tomorrow! and Thanks for the advice! as they gradually leave the field.

You’re reassuring Anton that it’s not embarrassing to go to the writing tutors at the library for help when Sunghoon and Yizhuo approach with MJ skipping in between them. Anton thanks you profusely before running off to the locker room, and then MJ is talking your ear off about how cool the game was. In between his exclamations, you thank Sunghoon and Yizhuo for staying with him.

“MJ’s pretty cool. Text me anytime you need someone to hang with him during a game,” Sunghoon offers. “Or Heeseung or Jay. We come to these pretty often, since we’re all on our off seasons right now, so there’s usually one of us here.”

You smile genuinely at him. “That’s really nice of you, Sunghoon. Thank you.”

Yizhuo tsks. “Men do the bare minimum.” She ignores Sunghoon’s half-hearted protests and kisses your cheek in farewell. “We have to go— double date. I’ll see you at home!”

You wave goodbye with equal parts amusement and bemusement, and then you turn to the field. At this point, MJ has run off to play with the few stragglers still kicking a ball around, so you watch them for a few minutes with a content smile on your face.

“Hey.” Jake sidles up to you without a sound and then chuckles when you jump in surprise.

You swat at his shoulder halfheartedly. “You just missed Sunghoon. He and Yizhuo are going on a… double date.”

“With each other? Or, like, they’re each going with someone else?”

“Y’know, it wasn’t clear.”

“Man, I’ll have to interrogate him when he gets back. But besides that… how’d you like the game, lucky?” Jake looks expectantly at you.

“I think I understood, like, 60 percent of the game, which is pretty good if you consider that I was probably at 10 percent before today.” You give him the same look. “What does ‘lucky’ refer to? Is that some kind of soccer slang?”

He looks away and runs a hand through his hair, suddenly bashful and bambi-eyed. “No, it’s just me being dumb, I guess. This is the first game we won this season, and it’s the first one you were at, so you’re like… a lucky charm.”

There are many things you could say. Correlation doesn’t equal causation, for one; every fledgling scientist knows this. And there has only been one other game this season, so your data set is quite sparse to begin with. Instead, all that comes out of your mouth is a slightly skeptical but mostly teasing: “I thought you said you didn’t need luck. And what if I was here and you lost instead?”

“Then I would’ve been lucky just to see you on the sidelines,” Jake murmurs.

You are not usually moved by sentiment. But this one is so sweet and sincere tripping off his tongue, delivered with those warm brown eyes; once again, you’re rendered speechless by Jake Sim.

Beomgyu coughs loudly, thoroughly dispersing the pink clouds you half expect to see floating around you and Jake. “Sorry to interrupt,” Beomgyu snickers. “But I think your brother is ready to go home.” He points to where MJ is slumped over on a bench, eyes droopy and hair sticking to his forehead.

The sight makes you smile fondly. “He’s had a big day. We’ll get going, then. Bye, guys!” You wave to the rest of the players on the field and get a few hollers in return as you and Jake walk over to MJ, who seems to have nodded off completely by now.

He looks so young like this— and so peaceful that you don’t want to wake him. You’re debating how to get MJ home with the least amount of disturbance possible when Jake solves the problem for you by crouching down and putting MJ on his back.

“Did you drive here?” Jake asks you in a whisper.

“Yeah,” you whisper back.

Jake hoists MJ further up on his back and secures his arms under the little boy’s legs. “C’mon, I’ll take him to your car.”

He starts walking in the direction of the parking lot, but you’re stuck in place, struck by the sight of Jake moving so slowly, careful not to disturb MJ’s sleep. Here is this guy you lambasted endlessly in your mind and multiple times to his face, all because of an assumption you made, and he’s holding your brother like a treasure. The sight makes your heart ache with inexplicable tenderness.

Dusk bleeds into night as the stars peek out across a velvet sky, and the poets would say that the stars bear witness to this— the moment when that stumbling, hesitant desire in you begins to bloom into full-bodied love.

But you will not realize this until much later, because the heavens are fickle, and there is no easy way from the earth to the stars.

#enhypen #jake sim #sim jaeyun #enhypen x reader #jake sim x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen oneshot #jake x reader #jake fluff #jake fic #jake oneshot #fic: though the stars walk backward #ss.fic

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tangerinesilk · 1 year

Text

BACK UP PLAN • TANGERINE x FEM!READER

they think you’re the diesel, but you know who took the case. too bad for you that tangerine, a guy from your past, likes to shoot first and ask questions later. as fun as that is, you quickly team up to figure out who took the case and what terrible fate they’ll meet... and of course, rehash your complicated past.

rating ✷ r (18+ only, minors dni!)

tropes ✷ enemies to lovers (but still enemies), pwp, cheeky banter, loud gf/quiet bf, butchered british slang, kind of mr. and mrs. smith energy, two idiots with one task

warnings ✷ cursing, violence being the answer, guns & knives, switch!tan x switch!reader, bathroom sex, fingering, quick p in v, lots of begging, exhibitionism, mention of hands/rings (my kink lmao)

word count ✷ 3.7k

a/n ✷ my first tangerine fic :D just feeding into my fixation and going down the aaron johnson rabbit hole again. wasn't expecting to do some bullet train writing, but..... here it is. there will be no part 2! hope y'all like it and feedback is always welcomed!

Shit was going down and surprisingly, it was not by your doing.

With your back pressed against the wall of the luggage holding, you could only hope the short but thick curtain covered your figure enough that anyone who passed wouldn’t see you. As you attempt to keep your breathing low and quiet, it hitches when you hear the sudden sound of automatic door opening.

“We need to find the cheeky fucker who took our case. Swear to God, I’ll bash his head in when I find him.”

That’s a thick accent you don’t forget. You don’t want to peak, but you can see the West Ham sticker on the back of his phone.

It can’t be him. No, no…

“Lemon, I’ve gone up and down this train for the umpteenth time. I’m ‘bout ready to shoot any sleazy bellend who looks at me funny.”

Tangerine?

He was the only person you’ve been able to outrun yet here he was, only a few inches away and knowing damn well he would know how to tear into you for what happened in Copenhagen. Long story short, it ended with you tossing his favorite gun into the river and it’s made an even bigger target on your back.

While you do wear a mask that seals your identity during your heists, you prayed he didn’t remember eyes since you lost your only form of disguise when fighting the Prince. Just like you, she uses her looks to her gains, able to manipulate anyone by batting her eyelashes. She was the one with the case, and knowing her past, she’d blame it on someone else and you were most likely high up on the list.

“Alright, then. Let’s keep lookin’ for the bastard.” He said before hanging up.

You cover your mouth, your glare remaining steady on him before he takes a pause. His blue eyes search around the cart, huffing until you hear the other automatic door open. You fully step out of the small luggage spot and catching your breath, “I have to get off here.”

As the next stop was coming to a halt, a force pulled you back into the bathroom from an arm snaking around your waist. You couldn’t even gather your thoughts before feeling a cool metal pressing against your temple.

“Now I can only think of two reasons a girl like yourself is hiding behind a bunch of suitcases. One, she’s got a bit of a dickhead of a boyfriend or two, she’s got my fuckin’ case.”

You smirked, “If I had it, I would have hid better, don’t you think?” You hoped to fool him.

“Oh, darling. You think I’m that stupid, why don’t you just–” He turned you around to look into your eyes, and unfortunately, he had seen them somewhere, “Oi, where have I seen you before?”

“I’ve never met you before in my life, now if you’ll excuse me…” You trailed before he shifted to stand in front of the doorway, placing his gun on the sink counter.

“As much as I’d like to believe that, darling... you’re not going’ anywhere until I get my answer.” He said with an assertive tone, his jaw obviously clenched and his eyes piercing blue.

With his one hand on the trim of the sink and the other against the wall, he towered over you with his tall stance. He acted intimidating but you knew deep down there was hidden softness to his personality. ‘Warmer the closer you got’ type of shit.

Your eyes shifted from his eyes to his chest, hard to not stare with his first button undone and gold chain disappearing into his shirt. Able to display a poker face, Tangerine was still racking his brain around where he had seen those eyes before. He couldn’t place the last time he saw such a color.

I guess what you failed to mention is that something else happened in Copenhagen. To summarize, it involved a skin tight dress, a hotel key card and a getaway plan by dawn. What threw him off now was that you weren’t sporting the same short, auburn wig you sported that night you tried to get his attention.

“How am I supposed to give you an answer that I don’t have? You’re in my way.” You protest.

“And you’re not a very good liar, are ya?” He huffed, “Now, if you don’t have my case then who does?”

Not giving a second more, you pulled out your own gun tucked in the waist of your skirt, pushing it against his bare chest, “I think you better stay out of the way before you really get hurt.”

He didn’t bat an eye, but his eyes took a second glance at the tattoos drawn on the side of your middle finger and the top of your knuckles. Suddenly, he placed those hands from memory and the image of them running down his chest struck his mind. He looked back into your eyes and remembered how they kept steady contact as your tongue glided down his body.

“It’s been a while since Copenhagen, yeah?” He said, clenching his jaw once more.

Shit. Maybe you shouldn’t have doubted him so much.

“Well you’re not fooling me this time.” He grunted, quickly taking your gun while your guard was down for a split second, “I’ll give you one last chance, love. Tell me where the case is and maybe, I’ll be and gentleman and just escort you off at the next stop.”

“So cute how you’re trying to threaten me yet use a pet name. Guess I just know how to get to your soft spot, Tan.” You grinned, placing your hand on his cheek.

Mesmerized, a gloss smooths over his eyes before his phone vibrates in his pants pocket.

“Do you wanna get that or have me reach in there?” You taunted.

He replied with an eye roll, but quickly answered. “Yeah, what?” Tangerine answered, his eyebrow cocked.

A low voice told him that they needed to see proof of the case at the next stop or things could go south. Tangerine quickly hangs up during mid-threat, and you twist your lips.

“Since you can’t find your case, I assume you’re the one getting off at the next station.” You smirked, “Glad we got to catch up.”

“No, no, you little pain in my ass. You’re gonna put on a nice smile for these massive dickheads and stall with me…” He tilted his head a bit, “As far as I know, you know where the case is so I’ll be attached by the hip to you for the rest of the lovely ride to Kyoto.” Tangerine yammered on.

You rolled your eyes but he held your chin, making you look him in the eyes, “I’m sorry, does that bother you now?”

“Hmm, no. Just kind of sweet to know you haven’t forgotten about me.” You purposefully teased, your palm running down his chest before opening another button of his shirt with your one hand. It was a tactic to get under his skin, hoping to get some sort of reaction.

“You’re some tease who left me in Copenhagen, I’ve dealt with shots to the fuckin’ chest. You really think highly of yourself, don't ya.” He deflects but glances at your soft lips.

You grinned, placing your hand on his cheek, “I don’t think I have to remind you of how low I’ll stoop to get a job done… or kneel.”

Tangerine felt your hand moving through the back of his hair, carding his loose curls before pressing your foreheads together. The tip of your nose brushed against his, your lips barely touching until the train came to a slow stop.

“Well, I guess it’s time to put on a good fucking act.” You huffed, pulling away and Tangerine didn’t realize he forgot to take a breath.

♡ ♡ ♡

He turned around, opening the bathroom door in one swift motion and the two of you stood by the exit. After quickly texting Lemon that he was going to stall, he gives you a look again– this time, his eyes shifting up and down your body, noticing the tear in your stockings. He knew you were up to something, but resisting the urge to press you up against a wall was making him ache a bit.

As the train door opened, Tangerine took a step toward you, “If anything goes down, you get behind me and get back on. Other than that, follow my lead.”

You nodded, “I have limited options… how generous of you.”

The two of you step off the train, and looking around for the men you’re asked to meet. As passengers got on and off, there was a small group that came your way and you stood next to Tangerine as they got closer.

“Where’s the case?” The tall one asked, standing center of the three other men.

“Lemon is keeping it safe right now.”

“Then who’s this?”

Tangerine glanced at you, shrugging, “I’m a professional, I’ve got my back up… Peach.”

You wanted to narrow your eyes at him with a burning stare, but you maintained your composure to convince them. It was one step closer to getting the case, and it wasn’t the worse operative name.

The four men chuckle at it, and you cross your arms from the reaction, “So, are we done here?” You asked, “We’ve obviously got places to be now since your boss is up our asses about his case.”

At first, they replied with scowls until Tangerine took a step in front of you, your chest basically touching his back.

“‘Cuse her attitude, it’s been a long night.” Tangerine acted as if he were in charge of you, “But, we’re all good now. The plan is still Kyoto, ta-ra now.” He faked a grin, pushing you toward the door as the alert sounded for boarding.

Before you knew it, the train was moving and the both of you plopped into two empty seats in the quiet car. As you watched Tangerine type out a text to Lemon, you scoffed, crossing your arms as you faced the window out to the city life of Japan.

♡ ♡ ♡

“Well, Lemon still hasn’t found the person with the case… fucker could have gotten off without us knowing.”

You turned your head, “So, that’s means I’m off the list of the accused?”

“...I just don’t trust you.” He trailed, slipping his phone back into his pants pocket.

“Aw, still a little hurt from our last encounter?” You pouted, “Didn’t take you for such a softie, Tan.”

Tangerine clenched his jaw. He had little patience for your sass, but it was fun to fuck with him. You gently placed your hand on the top of his thigh, hidden under the table, and refused to lose eye contact with him. There were four stops left so, it was time to put a spontaneous plan B into motion: make him let his guard down for you.

You batted your eyelashes, “Tell me, do you still think about our night together? I didn’t mean to leave so quickly, but we had something… yeah?” You taunted him, your hand moving up his thigh. Just as your fingers were going to unbutton his pants, Tangerine quickly grabbed your wrist and put it back on his knee.

“You wanna play games, darling?” He grunted, “Then, I’ll play your game.”

You couldn’t help but admit that your heart beat against your chest, like the air in the cart had been sucked away and before you knew it, his right hand was running up your thigh until he ripped the rest of your stocking. You almost gasped, not wanting to attract attention, but he pulled it enough where your panties were exposed.

“Don’t get shy on me now, love.” Tangerine said under his breath as his hand entering between your legs. Once he pushed the black lace to the side, his two thick fingers entered your slit. The hand you had on his thigh suddenly met the wrist of his hand working your pussy.

His blue eyes softened, feeling how wet you already were and how you tried to restrain from arching your back against the seat. Being in plain light, you bit your bottom lip and concentrated on the scene passing by– obviously, not easy to focus on when Tangerine is gliding his fingers in and out of your wet slit. You could scream, knowing how deep they were from feeling his cool rings against your skin.

“I’d rub your clit, but I’d hate to make you cum right here… in front of everyone.” He looked around, as if he weren’t edging you, “You don’t really deserve to anyways.”

You took one big gulp, your hand gripping the arm rest now and you let him keep going. For as long as he wanted to and however fast he wanted to. As big of a talk you made, you were suddenly puddy in his hands– quite literally– and God, you didn’t want him to stop.

He pressed his lips against your ear, “Are you close?”

“Hmm.” You could barely let out a word, “N-no.”

“Don’t lie to me now so you can cum.” He chuckled.

Just like that, he quickly pulled his hand away and he saw how his fingers were coated in your glistening cum. As he went to place them in his mouth, you pulled his wrist and tasted your own cum on your tongue.

All he could think was, “Fuck, her tongue is soft…” and reminisce the memory of his dick pushing down your throat.

You kissed his fingers before setting his hand back on his lap, and he watched you pant. Such a beautiful mess, he thought again.

Pushing your skirt back down, you crossed your legs as you ran your fingers through your hair. “You fucking ripped my nice tights…” You huffed, pulling the band from the waist and pulling them down your legs. You balled them up as you put your shoes back on, and stuffed them between the wall of the train and the seat.

You blew a breath past your lips, “Alright, that was fun but I gotta go.” You gulped, attempting to get up but he pushed your leg back down so you basically say back down.

“You’re stayin’ right here.” He said, not looking at you but around the cart, “Because the next stop, you’re gettin’ off… not like how you did right now but-”

You cut him off, “What?” You scoffed, your cheeks feeling heated, “No, I’m not getting off this train until I have the case!”

You didn’t mean to spill your own secret, but your guard had been put down. Shit.

He smirked, “See, I knew you had somethin’ to do with the case. Now you’re definitely gettin’ off at the next stop or I’ll-”

Cut off again, he sees Lemon walking down, also without the case in hand, and Tangerine quickly gets up. He met him halfway in the aisle, so you got up to see what was going on and if it was about the case.

“Who’s this? Looks familiar…” Lemon trailed as he pointed at you, then back at Tangerine.

“She’s no one-”

“Actually we passed each other in Copenhagen. You called me an Emily.” You grinned, tilting your head.

“Ah, yes. Emily, very kind but a tad bossy…” Lemon nodded but then narrowed his eyes, “Lookin’ for the case too, yeah?... unless you have it and we’re runnin’ around like headless chickens.” You could see his hand reaching into his jacket.

“I wish. Trust me…” You crossed your arms.

“Yeah, and she was just leaving on the next stop. No business being around here, muckin’ about.” Tangerine said without looking at you again, just making eye contact with Lemon.

“You treat me like I’m incompetent yet I beat both your asses back in Copenhagen and managed to steal the getaway car. Why don’t you two leave and let me handle whoever has the case.” You shoved past Tangerine, “Fucking amateurs.” You muttered under your breath.

Lemon turned around, Tangerine behind him, “She’s definitely is an Emily.”

Tangerine rolled his eyes, “I’ll go get take care of her. You check back down that way.” He clenched his jaw, pushing back his rolled sleeves.

♡ ♡ ♡

The door opened to the first class cart, already imagining your hands wrapped around the Prince’s neck once you had an eye on her. Dim orange lights lit your way, a few people asleep with blankets on top of them.

Just as you came close to the lounge toward the end, a hand gripped your wrist. Before asking any questions, your other hand quickly swung down on the other’s wrist, thinking it was the Prince, but you were met with another set of bright eyes.

“Let go of me.” You muttered under your breath, not trying to get anyone’s attention.

Like deja vu, Tangerine pulled you into the bathroom and locked the door. It wasn’t as tight as the other passenger bathroom, but still had little room to move around with two people.

“Do I gotta tell you again?” Tan practically growled.

“You can’t tell me what to do. What do you want from me that you keep cornering me like this?” Your tone matched his.

He took a deep breath through his nostrils, and suddenly felt the tension. He couldn’t take his eyes from you, never admitting that he had been thinning about you since Copenhagen, so instead his lips met yours.

You weren’t surprised, but you missed his lips. You bit his bottom lip, your body relaxing as you fell into his arms. Your noses brushed together, foreheads close before you unbuttoned his shirt, your hands meeting his soft skin. It slipped past his toned arms, and he pressed your hips against the sink counter.

As you lifted your leg by his side, he put his hand underneath your knee to keep it high. Tangerine kissed and nipped at your neck after taking your shirt off, tossing it on top of the closed toilet seat. You ran your fingers through his messy curls, gripping them as you shared hungry kisses. His hard pressed against his slacks, rubbing against your inner thigh.

“You’ve got about four minutes, Tan.” You said between kisses, “I don’t know if you’re that fast.”

“You underestimate me, love.” He grunted, “It’s gettin’ a bit old.”

Suddenly, he hiked your skirt and you played along, spreading your legs enough for his body to move between them. He quickly unzipped his pants while his right hand rubbed your wet clit and the left hand against your neck.

You giggled, biting your bottom lip before slipping the tip of his cock into your pussy. You held back your gasp, giggling instead to get a rise out of him, but it just made him squeeze your neck a bit.

“Almost forgot how big you were.” You pouted, but he thrusted inside of you. You audibly gasped, and kissed his thumb pressed against your bottom lip.

At first he was slow-paced, purposefully making you beg for it. He knew your weak spots yet his head fell against your shoulder, a light whimper escaping his throat remembering how tight your cunt was. He held your leg up again, giving him an angle to work with and his cock bottomed out inside your pussy.

“Fuck!” You croaked, “God, you’re so… big. Stretching me out so good, baby.” You whined.

“Fuckin’ Christ.” Tan cursed, his hips bucking as your skins slapped together. He was eager to make you cum, shattering in his arms and falling apart like he adored. His hand slapped against your ass cheek, kneading it the closer he got.

You leaned your head back, rolling your eyes back and could see stars, Tangerine practically lifting you off your feet as your walls began to tighten around his hard cock.

“Please… please let me cum.” You begged, your eyes barely open, “I wanna cum. Please.”

“Gotta beg a little more, darling.” He gulped as his pace got faster, not realizing how strong he was, “Keep those pretty eyes lookin’ at me.”

You arched your back, “Ah, please!… I want your fucking cum filling me up. Make me cum all over your cock, baby.” Your pitch elevated, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna fucking cum!”

He grunted against your shoulder, giving it a small bite before saying, “Cum, cum for me, love.” He lighty gasped but tried to mask it by kissing your shoulder.

Your fingers pulled his messy curls, not able to explain the complete bliss running throughout every vein and nerve in your body. His hand covered your mouth just as yours covered his, muffing your defeated moans when the two of your released inside your pussy.

As you came down from your highs, the two of you let out tired chuckles. His cock was still inside you, feeling your warm walls as he shared one last sloppy kiss.

Your thumb ran across his cheek, “Better than Copenhagen?”

He half-smiled, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

♡ ♡ ♡

Ultimately, you agreed to let them take it from there. It was two more stops, and the train was coming to it’s next destination. You and Tangerine stood by the door, watching it slowly open and your stubbornness was eating you up. Although it was a risk to get off the train, seemed there was more than the two of you looking for the case. If anything, you loss some pay.

“You better get off now.” Tangerine told you, the two of you watching people pass.

You hummed, “I know… hope you can tell me how it goes if we ever meet again.” You sighed, placing your hands on his chest. Your eyes met with his, and he furrowed his brows. You twisted your hips, taking a deep breath before quickly meeting your lips with his again. Tender and slow.

As you pulled your face from his, you nodded, “Bye, Tangerine.”

He expected for you to pass, and he actually thought he was going to miss you.

Instead, you forcefully pushed him out the door and it closed him out from coming back in. You rolled your eyes, walking up to the window as you watched the train pull from the station.

“I really am good.” You smirked.

#bullet train #bullet train x reader #tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine x y/n #tangerine fic #tangerine smut #tangerine imagine #tangerine one shot

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mayabruhbruh · 30 days

Note

do you think Mike’s behavior towards Will in S2 would somehow parallel his behavior towards El in S3?

Interesting ask! I like that comparison, though they are starkly different in nature. LETS THINK!!

So what you mean to point out is the glaring shift in attention from Will to El between seasons. I might've talked about this in an earlier post, but I love talking about it anyway, so let's dive in lmao.

So, I feel like it's pretty fair to say Mike is quite the easily-attatched, obsessive kind of person. And not in an insane way, at least not all the time, but you can see it in every season and in the way he sets his priorities. I mean, every season he finds something to latch onto and makes it his entire personality till something new comes along. And that's sort of what happened between seasons 2 and 3.

In season 2, Mike's sole purpose was to be by Will's side and to help figure out what was going on with him and the mind flayer. He was the one that was the most involved with his possession other than Joyce, and since he's just naturally such a leader and a genuinely objective-driven person, it was the only thing he focused on or worried about at all frankly all season.

Mike's determination to find Will in season one was his initial fixation, and I don't mean to use the term fixation to lessen the meaning of how much he invested himself in it. It's mainly a better way to express just how hyperfocused he gets in things like that. Mike nearly killed himself in season 1 for the slight chance that they might find Will again. WTF!? Anyway, season two was no different. With Will, his determination and general need to be of help is so prominent and almost default to him. It's really revealing of his priorities, the mere fact that he didn't go anywhere else for a solid few days while he watched over Will and wracked his brain for anything that could help fix the situation.

And that all changed, of course, with the reintroduction of El at the end of the second season. Of course, Mike still helped figure out how to stop the Mind Flayer without killing Will, but it was at that point that we knew once this was all over, his attention would shift to El in a similar manner.

Now, there's a bit of a difference in the behavior from season 2 to season 3 in terms of how he expresses that "obsession" or as we should probably just call it, "fixation." In season 2, it was driven with the intention of being helpful to Will in any and all ways that he could, whether that be comfort (the scene on his bed where they talk about the Mind Flayer), rationality (helping Joyce, Bob, Hopper etc. figure out the connections and offer useful understanding), or just company for a slowly deteriorating Will Byers, which can be backed up by the way he was solely with Will for a far majority of the season.

In season 3, the fixation he has for El is a little less within the area of his expertise, and lot more forced. And that's not at all to say that he just up and goes to El's cabin at the same time every day against his will lmfao. I really just mean that the organicness with which he latched onto Will's situation couldn't exactly be replicated here. Mike doesn't really get fixated on something without there being an end result or something useful to come out of it. So... that is to say he most definitely still had a goal in mind with his relationship with El. It's really just part of his formula and the recurring patterns presented in each season with every action he takes. Despite being an idiot, he's very methodical in what he does. And that's no different with El.

Mike after getting a girlfriend and thus eradicating the loser allegations:

Basically, what I'm saying is a regurgitation of what plenty of others have said on this app, and it's that he wants very badly, whether he knows it or not, to do one of three things:

for himself to come off as normal and typical teenage boy-ish as possible

for himself to come off as non-homosexual as possible

to prove to everyone that he is not "weird", as so many others have suspected (his bullies, his parents, literally everyone)

But, to be fair, those are all basically the same things. At least in Mike's book. And in his mind, a lot of his issues with not fitting in and the internal fear of being seen have a solution within his relationship with El. With her, he finds an excuse to back out of all of the things that remind him of just how "weird" he is. Turning down Dungeons and Dragons, the Cerebro setup, and indulging in all that teenager-y romance drama and moodiness was so out of character for him, and I feel like that really means something in the grand scheme. There have been many analyses on the stark capitalistic, bright and flashy artificiality of season 3, and Mike was a MAJOR part of that, especially in his drastic change in persona in just that season. (Note this analysis of his clothes in s3 I chimed in on as well, because it fits well with this lmao). Now, so many things that he once loved to do before can now be turned down with the excuse that he has someone. Someone (a girlfriend) that symbolizes (to society and by default, to him) manhood and true maturity and whatnot. She, to him, can be the light at the end of the bleak tunnel called life in Hawkins, Indiana, where he can't be who he wants, but he can settle for a questionable relationship with a friend that excuses all of that weirdness (*cough* queerness *coughcough*) in him that he can't seem to shake without her.

It's smart of him, really. I mean, he likes her! They've gone through a lot together, and having a good friend that he can easily deem as someone he like likes despite not really knowing what he wants is just him taking easy street. Sadly, he neglected to realize that pretending to be in love with someone might cause said someone to fall in love too. Someone innocent, new to the world, and susceptible to that kind of feeling. BAD IDEA MICHEAL.

He saw a lot of the repercussions of that in season 4, where El's feelings came a lot more into play and the whole "being normal" and "getting girlfriends" deal had begun to wear off in his mind. His relationship with DnD came back with that too, and I think it has a lot to do with his realization that he fucked up. Big time. Season 4 is really a whole other story. Basically him trying to salvage their relationship despite realizing his attraction toward her was all a lie. He didn't really like like her, he just liked the idea of being relieved of his societal expectations by being with her. And once he met Eddie and learned that conformity is what's killing the kids, it finally dawned on him that he really dated El solely to conform. And that's fucked up. And he realizes this. But isn't sure how to fix it.

Oh well, that's an issue for season 5 to resolve.

My purpose for writing this is not to confirm Byler or to shoot down M!ileven. All I hope to do is offer script-centered reasoning and analysis for the events depicted in the show, so that it can help connect the dots on what may happen next. Truthfully, whether Mike ends up gay, straight, with Will, with El, or WHATEVER, I truly believe that the narrative in season 4 intends for us to pick up on the fact that Mike has come to the realization that he isn't in love with El, he never was really, and that he is dealing with the shockwaves that his too-young compulsory love decision has wrought for them. It is kind of his fault, because despite being young and stupid when he initiated it between them, she was even younger and stupider and happened to follow his lead. (I love El, I am NOT calling her stupid lmfao I just mean he sort of used her lack of knowledge and experience in society to his advantage unknowingly and led them down the path to where they are now.)

Anyway, that's what I think about Mike's behavior between seasons. Sorry, this was unnecessarily long, but I hope it answered your question LMFAO.

Please shoot me a message or another ask if there's any more questions or thing you'd like me to expand more on! Y'all know I can yap for hours over this.

#stranger things #mike wheeler #byler #finn wolfhard #will byers #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 4 #mike x will #stranger things updates #mike wheeler x will byers #noah schnapp #stranger things analysis

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niki-phoria · 1 year

Note

can i request enhypen reaction to 8th member m!reader(crush) not a big fan skinship, hold his hand before starting event

maybe they are blush or anxiety (⁠๑⁠•⁠﹏⁠•⁠)

i have something, tada take it (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

⋆｡°✩ enhypen reaction - their non-affectionate crush being affectionate

includes: blushy enha, tried my best not to make these all the same, you could read these as established relationship tbh i didn't really know how to incorporate the crush aspect besides just making them flustered lmao

a/n: thank you for requesting !! i hope you like it :))

male reader (no pronouns used)

⋆｡°✩ heeseung

(word count 227)

heeseung smiles as the noise of the crowd overpowers the monotone repetition of the metronome that plays on a continuous loop through his in-ear monitors. his smile grows as he removes the right side from his ear to hear the audience singing along to his lines better.

heeseung startles slightly when you jump down onto the stairs to sit beside him. your smile mirrors his own as you raise your microphone to your lips to sing your own lines. you gently knock your shoulder into his as he playfully reciprocates. heeseung can feel himself growing more flustered as you continue to sway along to the beat together.

you shift even closer to him, reaching over to grab his hand into yours. heeseung’s attention remains on you as he intertwines your fingers together. he finds himself fixated on your bright smile as you look out into the large expanse of crowd before you - thousands of people who came specifically to see all of you.

you chuckle when you look over at him, gently nudging him to bring him back to reality. heeseung’s face flushes a bright red when the rest of the world comes back into focus. the backtrack of his lines harmonizes with the audience’s cheers. you give his hand a reassuring squeeze as he brings his microphone up to his lips to finally finish the song.

⋆｡°✩ jay

(word count 259)

you wake up to a small stream of sunlight fighting to break through the curtains covering your window. the dorm is quiet as you roll onto your side to look at jay’s bed. it’s almost instinctual - checking for him. you find yourself searching for him through crowds or straying by his side during your free time.

you stretch as you sit up, throwing the covers off of you and standing up. the floor is cold against your feet as you walk through the dorm in search of jay.

finding him is easy enough. the smell of freshly cooked eggs draws your attention towards the kitchen. you lean back against the doorframe as you watch him. a familiar soft melody plays from his phone speakers as he continues dancing around your kitchen as he makes breakfast.

the urge to wrap your arms around jay grows until you decide fighting it is no longer worth it. you wait for the song to end before you push yourself away from the door frame, walking over to where he’s standing. he jumps a little when your arms suddenly snake around his waist as you tug him back towards your chest into a loving embrace.

jay furrows his eyebrows as he turns to look at you. “y/n?”

“hm?”

“is everything okay?”

“‘m fine,” you murmur against his back. “just tired.”

jay chuckles. “okay.” he’s grateful you can’t see his flushed face as he turns back to the food he’s preparing. you let out a content sigh as you relax against him even further.

⋆｡°✩ jake

(word count 280)

people rush all around you. they switch between swarming around different members and frantically running to grab a different shirt or a new makeup product. you stare at yourself in the mirror, eyes drifting across each different part of your face. little black lines of eyeliner frame the corners of your eyes and a thick layer of foundation coats your face to hide every “imperfection” lying underneath.

you sigh, gently brushing your bangs out of your face. you’re careful not to ruin the style as you carefully change into your stage outfit. it’s simple - black pants paired with a black blazer that’s accentuated with a similar white wing-like design as the others. it feels comfortable but does little to soothe your nerves.

you jump slightly when someone rests a gentle hand on your shoulder. “sorry,” jake whispers, immediately moving his hand away. “are you okay? you look nervous.”

“i am nervous,” you sigh. it’s a foreign feeling - to miss someone’s touch. jake sits down next to you. his hand rests on the table next to you. it looks so inviting to reach over and take it into yours, though you resist the urge.

“you’ll do great,” jake smiles. something about the small gesture calms you down immediately. “we all will.”

“but what if i make a mistake or-”

“y/n,” jake chuckles a little, reaching over to grab your hand. you hope he can’t see how flustered he’s making you with each small touch. “you worry too much. everything will be perfect.”

you smile at him, intertwining your fingers together and gently squeezing jake’s hand. his face lights up in a light blush that makes you chuckle. “thank you, jake.”

⋆｡°✩ sunghoon

(word count 255)

it’s late when a gentle knock awakes sunghoon. he stirs slightly, eyebrows furrowing in his sleep as he tries to ignore it. however to his dismay, and mind annoyance, the knocking persists.

he sits up with a sigh, throwing his blankets to the side and trudging his way to the door. his eyes widen for a second when he opens it to you standing on the other side. your hands are a little shaky and even in the darkness he can tell that your eyes are a little red and teary. you bite your lip as you look down at the floor. “i’m sorry, i just…” you let out a shaky sigh and wipe your eyes quickly. “i can’t sleep and it’s been a terrible night. can i… stay with you?”

sunghoon can feel his heart breaking at the sight of you so upset in front of him. “yeah, yeah,” he whispers. “of course.” he opens his arms; letting you all but collapse against him. he wraps his arms around your waist as yours find their home around his shoulders. you sniffle, burying your face into his neck.

sunghoon gently guides you backwards to lead you into his room as he shuts the door behind you. it almost feels surreal to have you finally in his arms - even given the less than ideal circumstances.

you let out a shaky sigh as he leans down to press a kiss against your forehead. “come on,” he whispers. “lay down with me. we need to get some rest.”

⋆｡°✩ sunoo

(word count 227)

the high of a concert feels like nothing else you’ve ever experienced before. the cheers of the crowd blend together in a beautiful harmony as you stand on the elevated platform, waving goodbye. “we love you!” jay yells into the mic. the cheers grow louder, making your smile grow.

beside you, sunoo silently reaches over to take your hand into his. he pulls away as soon as he does, anxiously looking over at you. instead of pulling away from him entirely you simply smile and reach over to take his hand in yours once again. you squeeze his hand as you follow his lead in bowing to the audience.

sunoo can feel his face flushing at the feeling. he’s quick to lower his head down to try and avoid it being seen by the cameras. he covers his face with a hand when you stand back up, giving a final wave to the audience before the platform begins to move. the stage lights slowly disappear as the platform finishes lowering. you let out a small sigh as it finally stops with a final click back into it’s original place. sunoo’s hand remains tightly in yours as you step down back onto solid ground, surrounded by the cheers of your staff. despite it being a new feeling for both of you, neither make any move to pull away.

⋆｡°✩ jungwon

(word count 255)

you watch as jungwon anxiously paces around his dressing room, mumbling the words of his speech over and over to himself as if he’ll be able to suddenly memorize it more than he already has. he fidgets with his fingers, neck craned down to look at the floor. the edges of his suit are starting to become wrinkled from how hard he’s gripping the fabric and you can all but see the neck strain beginning to appear.

jungwon jumps slightly when you suddenly stand up, walking over to him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “jungwon,” you whisper. “relax. you’ll do perfectly fine.”

he sighs, eyes shifting to look away from you and down at the floor once again. “but… it’s a big deal. we’re speaking at a national assembly! i can’t afford to mess this up-”

“and you won’t.” you pause, moving your hand to tilt his head up to look at you. you try to ignore how butterflies swarm in your stomach and your heart rate speeds up with jungwon’s eyes staring into your own. “we’re going to go out there and sit down and you’ll give your perfect speech and then we’ll go back to the dorms and celebrate with a perfect cake and our perfect friends.”

jungwon’s face flushes slightly when you raise your hand to cup his cheek, brushing your thumb against the soft skin. “okay,” he whispers with a final nod.

you smile, tugging him down to press a kiss against his forehead. “good. then let’s go.”

⋆｡°✩ niki

(word count 252) i love him sm you don't understand

you let out a shaky breath as you wipe your hands against the fabric of your pants in a poor attempt to calm yourself down. the lights shine brightly in your direction, nearly blinding you as you stare out into the crowd. it’s never looked so big before - full of thousands of people staring at you. the cameras surrounding you from all angles that used to be commonplace now only serve to add to your nerves. how many people are watching? is it live? are they recording? what if you mess up and it follows you for the rest of your career? what if-

your swirling thoughts are interrupted by a gentle hand reaching over to grab yours. niki glances at you momentarily before turning forwards to face the crowd once again. you can tell he’s also nervous; though unbeknownst to you, his reasons are different than yours. while your mind anxiously runs through every possibility of messing up in front of the cameras, niki worries about you.

despite normally avoiding touch, instead of letting go of his hand, you intertwine your fingers together. niki smiles a little as he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. you force yourself to take a deep breath - as much as you can - before letting the tension relax from your shoulders. standing on the biggest stage you’ve ever seen in front of the largest crowd that’s ever surrounded you, an unspoken agreement passes between the two of you: i like you. we should do this again.

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julysn · 8 months

Text

random kyle headcanons

(these r my hcs + only one is nsfw)

ship: kyle broflovski x reader

general warnings: hi

other notes: this is such a mess

a/n: this is me using the hours of sp i binged during the summer to good use

FOR SOME FUCKING REASON I THREW IN UNWIND AU. AND GENSHIN AU SOMEONE HELP ME.. Me when i combine all of my fixations.

anyways if ur curious about those.. check their wikis

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ high school hcs ✶ 𓏲ּ ꩜ .ᐟ

✶ ࣪˖࿐ he's the kid thats super smart and kinda quiet and no one wants to mess w him except cartman. sosososo helpful and kids are always asking him for help on assignments

✶ ࣪˖࿐ GOOD FIGHTER.

✶ ࣪˖࿐ his idea of rizz is helping his crush with picking up their books and helping them out with homework

✶ ࣪˖࿐ all the teachers adore him so he can get away with skipping class and using his phone whenever he feels like it. it’s actually kinda rare to see him on his phone in class or skipping but it’s mostly bc of the boys 🤷‍♂️

✶ ࣪˖࿐ basketball team captain + he’s one of the best players in the school.

✶ ࣪˖࿐ one time cartman made fun of kyle and said "tolkien shouldve been captain bc hes black and ur just a stupid jew" during basketball practice and kyle "accidentally" shot a ball at his face. he didn’t get in trouble bc the teachers were like “oh cartmans prob lying” LMAOO

✶ ࣪˖࿐ he would buy u girl scout cookies,. he would only buy ur favorites and make stan and kenny sneak them into ur backpack during passing period.

✶ ࣪˖࿐ when he has a crush on u.. you will somehow be brought up in conversations w his friends. whenever he’s changing in the boys locker room he always finds a way to mention you to stan and kenny. meanwhile cartmans like “who cares” but kyle will talk about u a LOt!

✶ ࣪˖࿐ when u got assigned to sit next to him, he’s always helping you out (bf material) (i love him)

✶ ࣪˖࿐ passes notes to u to make sure u understand the subject. they read like “hey, you understand what to do, right?” or “you know what we’re learning about, right?”

✶ ࣪˖࿐ 100% mews during class. thats why hes so quiet. he doesn’t put his hand up for questions bc hes mewing!

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ ur husband + baby daddy hcs ✶ 𓏲ּ ꩜ .ᐟ

sorry amab fans.. HERES A UTERUS (and tits) LMAO

✶ ࣪˖࿐ whenever the baby wakes u up in the middle of the night hes like "no. GO BACK TO SLEEp" and goes to comfort the baby for twenty minutes while u drift off

✶ ࣪˖࿐ HES SUCH A GOOD DAD UGH

✶ ࣪˖࿐ sometimes he wants more kids bc of how sweet u are. like he’ll see you playing with the kids and his mind will wander off to how it’d be if you were pregnant again

✶ ࣪˖࿐ you were insecure about your breasts getting bigger and heavier and he reassured u and said he would love u no matter what (even if u were a worm aahhaahhha..)

✶ ࣪˖࿐ “sweetheart do you want me to pick up the kids from school? i’ll buy us food”

✶ ࣪˖࿐ SO DAMN SWEET

✶ ࣪˖࿐ ur kids are now 12 and 13 years old. and one day kyle got kenny to babysit them. lets just say when u came home they were saying not very pg things LMAOO

✶ ࣪˖࿐ whenever he helps the kids with their homework he pulls out his reading glasses and they’re low on his nose and you find it SO cute.

✶ ࣪˖࿐ he wakes up before u because his shift starts earlier, and whenever u wake up there’s always a hot shot of espresso waiting for u

✶ ࣪˖࿐ typa dad to be chill and lenient but whenever hes mad at the kids… dear lord !

✶ ࣪˖࿐ whenever ur stressed from the kids or work, he always prepares a relaxing and hot bath for you. and he goes all out. dimmed lights, lit candles, rose petals everywhere, a perfect bubble bath with your favorite scents. you can tell he’s obsessed + in love and hes not afraid to show it

✶ ࣪˖࿐ affectionate and sweet. he will do anything for u. he cooks dinner for u. he makes coffee in the morning for u. he takes the kids out so u can have a break. you’re his one and only

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ genshin au hcs ✶ 𓏲ּ ꩜ .ᐟ

✶ ࣪˖࿐ either dendro or geo vision. i dunno

✶ ࣪˖࿐ polearm or sword user 😜

✶ ࣪˖࿐ I FEEL LIKE HE WOULD BE FROM FONTAINE OR SNEZHNAYA IDK THO

�� ࣪˖࿐ would either hate the fatui or b one of the harbingers

✶ ࣪˖࿐ are we seeing the vision guys

✶ ࣪˖࿐ got put into the slammer/fortress of meropide and didn't know how to use credit coupons so he accidentally gave all of them to someone (and was really mad after he found out what credit coupons were)

✶ ࣪˖࿐ you’re a receptionist at the fortress. and when u first met kyle he tried flirting w u (his rizz was absolutely horrible AT THE Start) and u were like “stop. stop holding up the line mr. broflovski” and he said “of course not, mrs broflovski” and shot u a cheeky wink (hes using his redhead jewish rizz)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ unwind au hcs ✶ 𓏲ּ ꩜ .ᐟ

this is a mess. i'm sorry.

✶ ࣪˖࿐ he 100% tried to pull the akron awol/connor lassiter shooting a juvey-cop with his own tranq gun move. (it probably worked)

✶ ࣪˖࿐ omg. scenario where you guys find out u both are getting unwound so u both kick awol and go to a safe house and he acts slightly possessive and jealous of u because he doesn’t wanna lose u 💘💘

✶ ࣪˖࿐ he would ABSOLUTELY hate hayden when they first meet. but they would be friends later on. this is canon bc i said so and i am always 100% true (not clickbait)

✶ ࣪˖࿐ you guys def met at the graveyard and he was head over heels for u. like head flew away from yo heels. he saw u in the crowd when the admiral was giving his speech and kyle went BRIGHT RED

✶ ࣪˖࿐ the both of u are at the graveyard. and ur a medic. and kyle purposely gets bruises or tiny, practically painless cuts so he can visit and be like "hi y/n 😓😣 can u take care of me it hurts" BOY ITS JUST A LITTLE CUT! but u care about him so u do it anyway. he’s always blushing a little whenever you take care of him and u always shoot him glares which he finds to be super endearing

✶ ࣪˖࿐ les by childish gambino plays in ur head as the two of u meet in a harvest camp bathroom and he says "i love u." and then kisses u deeply. and then he says "if we get unwound i hope our parts end up on the same body" and u shed a tear

✶ ࣪˖࿐ THIS IS SORTA ANGSTY. OKAY. kyle gets unwound and while the procedure is happening all he can think about is u. like he’s sad he didn’t get to confess to you before they took him away and he wishes he told u how much u mean to him before he was dragged away to a harvest camp

✶ ࣪˖࿐ nsfw: when y’all were at the graveyard, u guys had sex in one of the jets while it was empty. best decision of ur life

✶ ࣪˖࿐ OMG TITHE KYLE. TITHE KYLE. HES A TITHE hear me out guys hear me out,..

✶ ࣪˖࿐ he would be the #1 radio free hayden fan (canon) (real) (i said so) (guys its real)

✶ ࣪˖࿐ him stan and kenny escaped a harvest camp and beat up the guards that chased them and they became literal legends

✶ ࣪˖࿐ harvest camp. and every time he sees u he gives u a kiss on the cheek when the staff aren’t looking.

✶ ࣪˖࿐ he wants to be affectionate w u SO BAD whenever u guys are at a harvest camp he can’t stop sneaking glances at you. and whenever he hears ur name get mentioned he immediately starts eavesdropping

✶ ࣪˖࿐ OMG OLAY I GOT ONE you guys met in sonia’s basement and it got cold at night so he let you sleep in his arms for warmth. and it was so cute. like you sat next to him and it was cold so you guys hugged and fell asleep (the other kids were jealous)

#julysn #julia's headcanons ✶𓏲ּ꩜ .ᐟ #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski #south park #south park x reader #headcanon #my headcanons #hcs #my hcs #south park headcanons #kyle broflovski headcanons #kyle headcanons #south park hcs #headcanons #alternate universe #sp x unwind sounds SOOO good

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star2fishmeg · 1 year

Text

ʀᴇᴡᴀʀᴅ sᴄʜᴇᴍᴇ

Pairing: Todoroki Yosuke x afab!reader

Summary: y/n just can’t wrap her head around statistics, and there’s only one person she can go to for help. Yosuke’s tough, but his rewards for progress make the tears so worth it

Warnings: 18+ smut, porn w/o much plot ngl, exhibitionism, protected sex (reader’s on the pill), creampie, choking, hair pulling, Todoroki fucks over the desk doggy style, degradation (slut, whore), praise, finger sucking, fingering, petnames (baby), dacryphilia, mild size kink, reader’s wearing a skirt for plot, rough sex, Todoroki’s kinda mean, aftercare

Authors note: @cheshirecatuniverse and I should not be allowed to contact each other in educational environments, creds to Vis for the idea contribution. LMAO THIS IS KINDA BAD

Request: none!

17/40

“You have got to be shitting me…” she mumbled, running her palms down her face. Another biweekly progress test was completed, and another one flunked. The fact she had studied for it just added salt to the wound too. If only she didn’t need to pass this exam, but unfortunately if she wanted to get into her course at university, she had to. This is so stupid, honestly.

“You good, y/n?” her friend asked, eyebrow raised at the way she was slumped over her desk, paper gripped in her hand.

“Bruh, barely even 50 per cent…again! What am I gonna do?” she groaned, her friend giggling at the dramatics being displayed. The pair started packing their things, shoving books into bags without considering how rude the hurrying looked to the teacher.

Rounding the corner and walking through the hallway, her friend rambled about gossip from another class, but y/n scrolled through her phone, bumping into lower years, and ignoring their calls after her. They were a freshman, and she was a senior for god’s sake, social status meant nothing anyway, no need to keep a reputation. A notification popped up before closing her phone, and a grin spread on her lips upon seeing the contact’s name.

“Y/n! Are you listening?” her friend whined, tugging on her arm.

“Nope, but I gotta go, see you Monday!”

“Not a simp my arse.”

He blinked unimpressed at the paper in his hand, and then glanced back at y/n, who sat next to him on the tatty sofa of the student announcement room: his base. Her head lulled against the back of the sofa, giving Todoroki a sheepish look. He sighed, placing the paper on the box in front of them (used as a coffee table or footrest) and leant back, turning slightly to face her figure. She reciprocated, resting her head on her arm while batting her eyelashes at him.

“Pretty please Yosuke? You’re my last hope.” She pleaded to her boyfriend, butterflies swirling in her stomach. He would straight-up reject the offer, he could do that, and that was the worrying thing. She avoided going to him for things because he – as stated by himself – was too busy with Oya's business but this time was different. She was begging him to help. His eyes failed to find somewhere to fixate on her, jumping around her face and the test, barely processing that she had come to him for academics. Did she really believe in him? See him as smart despite thinking with his fists?

“Can’t you find someone at school to tutor you?” he said quite flatly, watching her face drop.

“You’re right, maybe Kevin will, he’s pretty good-“ she began to turn to stand up before Yosuke’s hand gripped the top of her thigh in haste. She turned her head, raising an eyebrow.

“Fine, I’ll do it. But I’m not gonna be nice because you’re my girlfriend.” She grinned, practically leaping into his arms, and nuzzling her head into his shoulder, chanting ‘thank you’ until he returned the hug with a tight embrace. He closed his eyes, savouring the moment that she came to him for help for once, and not him turning up on her doorstep.

Her fingers gripped the pen, sweat rolling down her forehead as her breathing rattled through her chest. The questions of the page became blurry between the tears pricking her ducts, and shifting in her seat in the hope to ground herself more from the fog that blurred her mind. Why was this so hard?

Because she was held firmly on Todoroki’s lap, one arm secured around her waist and his fingers rubbing small circles on her clit over her panties.

“C’mon baby, you want to cum, don’t you? Finish the quiz.” He purred in her ear, placing a kiss on her jaw. As much as she wanted to whine about his teasing, she also wanted to just answer the questions, so she’d finally get some relief. But Yosuke continued to tease her pussy, smirking at how the fabric clung to her folds and every time she went to write her answer he’d pull her panties aside, cold air sending shivers up her spine, running his finger through her slick to hear the whimper slip through her lips. She slammed the pen on the desk, lulling her head back onto his shoulder.

“Yosuke,” she panted, “please, I answered them. Please, please, please just finger me.”

He glanced over her paper, humming with no indication of correct or incorrect answers. His only response was his long finger easing into her cunt, walls immediately clamping as she gasped suddenly, body relaxing as he slowly pumped his digit.

“Such a good girl,” he whispered, sliding his other hand to squeeze her tit, “S’pretty when you cry f’me, do I make you feel that good?” Tears slid down her cheeks and were caught on his when he captured her lips in his, moans rumbling from either of them as tongues paid no mind to permission. Mewling when he inserted another finger, the languid pace unbearably pleasant, y/n’s pussy ached, and throbbed when he curled to hit her spot.

“Right, ah, there.” She sighed, her hand that once gripped the desk flying to grip the sleeve of the arm that tormented her.

“Touch yourself, be a good slut, won’t you?” He instructed in a low tone, eyes fixated on her hand moving to her puffy clit to massage it the way he had spent the last who-knows-how-long. His cock strained in his slacks, twitching at the friction of her squirming under his touch.

“M’gonna cum, Yosuke!”

“Cum, baby, show me how well I reward you.” His fingers thrusted faster, curling, and feeling her legs jolt as he finger-fucked her through her orgasm. Her mind blanked, muscles relaxing as she panted, drawing her hand away to lay limp on her lap. Yosuke chuckled inwardly, wrapping his arm around her waist again as his other hand pulled out her pussy.

“Open.” He almost demanded, and she responded, feeling his cum-soaked fingers lay on the flat on her tongue and she sucked them clean, tongue swirling and lapping up her own taste listening to his hum of satisfaction.

“You’re making progress, y/n. Guess I am a good tutor.” The smug expression he held only made y/n roll her eyes, as much as she devoured his reward scheme, she wished he’d have more mercy.

She blinked once, twice, thrice, mind empty at the mark on the top of her page. Her last biweekly test before the actual exam and she’d scored a thirty-five out of forty, the highest score yet. A grin slowly crept onto her face, electricity surging through her. She wanted to punch the air and yell, but that would be too embarrassing in front of the class, nobody needed to know how well she did anyway.

It was Todoroki’s business, however. She twirled around the small room, waving the paper around and taunting him with the grade she’d received (even though he helped). He didn’t mind though, it brought a small smile to his lips seeing her so pleased that she’d accomplished something, seeing her at her most confident lighting up the dingy classroom they met in.

“Thank you, Yosuke!” she leapt over to him, the paper floating to the floor as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, profusely laying kisses all over his face despite him scrunching it up. He loved it really. He unfolded his arms, sliding one around her waist.

“Anytime, y/n. You did well. Guess you want that reward.” He teased. The hand that was once on her waist slid slowly below her skirt, running down her thigh and over the globe of her arse, groping and toying with her panties. Y/n smirked, moving a stray hair from his eyes and unbuttoning the top of his shirt, finger running along his collarbone until her hand completely disappeared down his shirt. He let out a shaky breath, melting into her touch.

“We’re in public you know.” Y/n pulled her hand away from him, allowing his hands to undo her school shirt enough for him to have a clear view of her bra. His favourite one at that. His palm, coarse from fighting, ran underneath the right cup, pinching her nipple to hear the gasp emit from her throat.

“Get up, Yosuke.” she ordered, her skin becoming cold from him pulling away and standing up. He loomed over her stature, something she couldn’t help but crumble at feeling so tiny compared to him, and how his big hands held her tits perfectly. Letting his hands trail down her waist and grip her hips, he spun her around, bending her over the desk he was previously sat at.

He pushed her skirt up, scrunching it at her waist to bask in the view of her backside and the pretty black panties he knew she loved. Hooking his fingers around the waistband, he gently pulled them down her thighs, smirking at the damp patch that had been stuck to her pussy the entire time. She stepped out of them willingly, watching his every move over her shoulder with half-lidded eyes.

“What if they hear us?” she uttered, taking her lip between her teeth, his figure matching her position momentarily.

“You’ll have to be quiet then.” He whispered, panties scrunched in his palm, and she opened her mouth compliantly, letting him stuff them to taste herself. The sheer excitement this man brought to her every time he had her alone made her tingle inside. Her clit pulsed watching his belt unbuckle and his veiny hands unzip his slacks. Yosuke’s cock twitched seeing how desperate she was to get fucked in his school, to see her cunt glisten because of him, he couldn’t be bothered with prep, her whining begged him enough to fuck her.

Pulling his cock out, he gave it a couple pumps before running it over her folds, becoming deaf to anything but her whimpering and squirming as he teased the tip in and out before gradually sinking his cock in, letting her walls swallow him. He threw his head back, holding back a groan at how tight she squeezed around him. Yosuke gripped her hips, bottoming out and getting off at the muffled cries coming from his girlfriend, who gave him such a sultry look when they made eye contact that he restrained both her arms on her back when his hips began to roll into her.

The desk squeaked with every thrust that hit her cervix, her mewls and his grunts bouncing off the tatted walls and his eyebrows knitted at the way she fit around him so perfectly.

“Such a good little slut.” He hissed, slamming his cock into her aching cunt, finally letting her arms go. The relief that washed over her when he did only encouraged her to grip what she could and arch into his movements as if she were asking for more.

“You cock hungry whore, just can’t help yourself, can you?” He raked his fingers through her hair, taking a fistful of it and yanking her head back, y/n’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and a rattling moan tore through her. He pulled her into his chest, her back arching and the hand that once bundled her hair wrapped itself around her throat, throwing the panties from her mouth beforehand.

“Please, Yosuke! Choke me, please!” she pleaded, feeling the pads of his fingers and thumb press against the sides of her column. A faint smile formed on her lips, his ruts dizzying to the point all she could muster out was his name in a mantra.

“Taking me so well.” His thrusting became sloppier, breathing heavier as his hand dropped back down to her hips, her own breathing shuddering feeling her pussy clamp down on his cock and her stomach falling weak.

“M’gonna…” she panted, “cum!” her body dropped back onto the desk, shoving her backside into his crotch for him to fuck until they coated each other in white. Todoroki didn’t reply, his hips speaking for him, driving back and forth, ears hearing nothing but the lewd smacking and her voice doing its best to chant his name quietly until he watched her cum on his cock, his own thick ropes following not long after. His thrusting slowed, fingers stuffing their release back into her cunt while they caught their breaths again.

“I love you, Yosuke.” She smiled, her voice so small with a slight giggle to it.

“I love you too, you did so well.” He couldn’t help but smile, sweat dripping but regardless, he placed a kiss to her cheek, pulling her limp body off the desk to hold her gently in his arms.

H&L harem (if you wanna be tagged/removed in future H&L content, comment or lemme know via ‘chat to me bbygorl’ :D);

@straysugzhpe @airbendertendou @strxwberrychocolate @rouzuchan @yuken-gf @rinwhore @simpforchuchu @thatpoindexterpixy @rainisawriter @cheshirecatuniverse @certainbananacollectionblr @tiredlittlewriter

[Masterlist]

[Requests]

#high&low #high&low x reader #high and low #high&low the worst #highandlow #oya high #todoroki yosuke x reader #yosuke todoroki #yosuke todoroki x reader #high & low #high&low the worst x reader #high&low the worst x cross #high&low the worst cross x reader #high&low smut

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wheregoodthingsthrive · 1 year

Text

Hellsing Headcanon Mass Post

I had been wanting to make one of these for a long while. Compiling a lot of my overly fleshed out ideas for the Hellsing five especially is a fixation for me and a lot of these are 8+ years in the making. This is long and covers Seras, Integra, Pip, and Walter. Alucard isn't in here cause I want the others to get more love lmao. I'll do Iscariot and Alucard eventually. I just want to try this out-- I want to make more Hellsing friends, especially one's willing to build on the lush free real estate we have here :3

Seras Victoria

Born February 9th 1979*

I refuse to believe she was 19 and a cop. *I don’t know how old I want her to be exactly but part of me thinks she’s either Integra’s age (22) or younger by a few months. I refuse.

Her middle name is Marie, which is her mother’s name,

Speaking of her parents -- her parents, Marie and John-Mark Victoria, were an elementary teacher and a cop (duh) respectively.

They were a pretty chill middle class family, known in their community pretty well as they were often involved in a lot.

So the brutal breaking and entering double homicide of the family and the orphaning of Seras was a big deal. It was in the local news. Definitely contributes to Seras having an intense need to NOT stand out.

Her time at the orphanage is a seriously blocked out time period for her and for good reason -- it was a very emotionally and mentally isolating place. And she was disciplined. A lot. As canon explores, she was very violent, aggressive, and apprehensive of relations. She never truly got the therapy she needed and she surely thought the orphanage’s religious predisposition would not help.

Protestant turned skeptical agnostic. She never understands religion all that well after her traumatic childhood.

She went to a private school until her graduation. She had a massive passion in the law and enforcement, leading her to become a cop for emotional reasons she could never really place (traumatic memory blocking lmao)

Despite being picked on and being seen as a little lesser, Seras really did enjoy her job as a cop and hoped to one day become a sergeant or a head of the office. Her fellow coworkers really wanted to see her succeed…

In/Beyond Hellsing

The TV show was onto something with having Seras and Integra have quite the strained relationship. Seras just wanted to be liked and definitely understood that she was seen as an ‘invader’ into this strange little found family.

I don’t have much more on this in terms of Seras’ side because Integra’s side has more potential for nuance. See Integra section. <3

Overall, Seras has a very skittish relationship with everyone. She does get close to Walter though, as he’s the most merciful with her regarding her development as a Hellsing agent and vampire alike. She gets on the tradition of being up early enough to enjoy morning tea with him. (She can’t drink it but it helps her feel normal)

Her vampiric arm CAN formulate into a normal, fleshy arm but she prefers it not to as it reminds her of her strength. She can equally dissipate a lot of her body, mainly her eyes and back alongside her arm, but she can’t go full shadow like Alucard can on a whim.

Vampires of different classes have different arrays of abilities. Seras learns a lot of hers is illusionary and omnipresence. Shadow work, shape shifting, illusions, and expert third-eye vision are her specialties.

Miscellaneous

Her favorite drink was London fog or a classic pint of beer. Her sweet tooth was unbeatable.

She has a nice list of hobbies and interests! She loves dancing, can crochet, learning calligraphy for fun,

Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing

Born June 17th 1977

It’s van Helsing but whatever. Hellsing is the popularized version of the surname but if you ever ask her to sign a document or write her name, she always fills it out as ‘van Helsing’ because it is “correct”.

Childhood and Parents

Integra is conceived out of wedlock between Arthur and Ahalya. They met in 1975 and Integra was born three months after their official wedding. Both of her parents were on the older side.

Her ‘bastard’ status was a big issue in her inheritance and caused, frankly, a lot of tension between Arthur and Richard and more so doubts among the Round Table.

Arthur defended his decision till the day he died. Integra was the best thing that ever happened to him.

I AM TIRED OF SEEING NEGLIGENT FATHER ARTHURS. WAKE UP GUYS.

Arthur was a devoted, very loving, very gracious father. Meeting Ahalya and really taking the Hellsing position seriously since his 30s helped prepare him to be an engaging father and dedicated spouse. While he was busy and often away, any moment he got with Integra was intentional and held his undivided attention.

Integra’s mother was present until she was ten. Her mother was a little less emotional but equally loving. She was very adamant on Integra’s education and development into a young, respectable lady. She was very against Integra becoming the next head of Hellsing but Arthur was insistent.

While not always perfect, Integra and her mother got along. Her mother passed away in the spring of 1987 due to terminal illness.

She was basically raised by Walter whenever neither of her parents were around. They were the best of friends and could read each other like books. Where Arthur taught her the occult and leadership, her mother etiquette and poise, Walter taught her self-reliance and strong headedness.

Their relationship was not always perfect and definitely hit a rocky patch when Alucard returned. She still never understood what their deal was.

Early adult years - Integra is the most socially inept but poised individual. Talking to men? Talking to women? It’s near impossible. She’s a brick wall. She’s real fun at parties when she is either obligated or strongly convinced to go to them.

Definitely earns herself a Elizabeth I reputation. The only time she ever dated was when she was 15 and she had a picnic with a guy her age once. Never again.

Hellsing Era

Integra’s ascent into the head of the organization was agonizingly painful. Walter served as her legal guardian and Alucard was her…strange project.

This is truly when she adopted her more masculine persona and this…closed off nature. It was the only way she saw herself being protected from all the prying, doubting, and slander of the bureaucracies. Was this damaging to her? Absolutely.

Despite this, she grew very close with her father’s trusted friends. Penwood is more at an arm's length while surprisingly, despite his intensity, Irons is her closest among the RTC.

Irons definitely sees Integra as his daughter as well, not even as Arthur’s child.

Her relationship with Alucard at this time is very odd. Mentor/mentee, master/servant, Hellsing/vampire. She didn’t quite know how to appreciate him at this time

A major contributor to their relationship growing was her discovery of Hellsing experiments and frankly more shameful works. While not inherently positive to their dynamic, it definitely changed the way she viewed Alucard forever.

Adding onto the Seras/Integra segment here from Integra’s perspective. Integra can not afford to lose her ‘normal’. She is a creature of habit and stability. She would never admit it but the upheaval of her life via the death of her father, the absenteeism of Walter, the introduction of Alucard, her first kill, etc. ruined her perceived safety and it took her many years to regain it.

She had a new, safe, constant normal with Walter and Alucard. So when Seras is introduced, Integra feels threatened. Her vampire acted irrationally and now she has to pay for it (literally and socially). Seras was an unfactored element to her that invaded her life and threw her into disarray. Obviously, this feeling does not last forever, but she detests Seras at first.

I could also make a point about Integra having no real positive feminine influences in her life after her mother dies. She lives in such a masculine bubble that when Seras is introduced, she frankly does not know how to respond to a positive, feminine presence. That’s a whole other bag of marshmallows for another time.

Post-Hellsing

She dies fifteen years after the time skip finale from natural causes.

Miscellaneous

Operas are her favorite. Her favorite is Tosca. Her favorite activity with Arthur in her youth was to attend the opera and ballets and the likes.

She pulls just as much as Arthur did. :)

She is fluent in Dutch and English, and knows a decent handful of French and German from her governess days.

Pip Bernadotte

Born March 27th 1972. Left handed.

His full name is Pierre Andre. ‘Pip’ stuck in his youth.

I have an unhealthy loyalty to believing he is French-Belgian-Columbian. Why Columbian? Because I said so.

His father served on a mercenary job in Columbia where he met Pip’s mother and he brought her back to Europe with him. Pip was born in Belgium and his parents split up shortly after his birth but they never married. He was left with his dad as his mother returned to the Americas.

He was primarily raised by her grandfather due to his father’s pretty constant absenteeism but whenever his father was around, it was very pleasant and he has a good, positive recollection of his father.

His grandfather though? It was complicated. He was a stern disciplinarian.

His father passed away in Pip’s 20s. They hadn’t seen each other for a few years leading up to his death, not in a negative way…just…kinda went down their own paths.

Pip skipped Belgium and backpacked all around Europe for a long time after his basic level education. He used to have aspirations of being an actor but well we all saw what he actually is so say goodbye to the dream.

He was engaged at least three times. Absolute dumbass heartbreaker.

This is a running joke with the Wild Geese and definitely contributed to his dedication to Seras. She really made him want to settle and stop and be still. Sobs.

Leading up to Hellsing/Hellsing

He was dumb, young, and had both eyes when he joined his first mercenary group. It was not the Wild Geese but there were some guys in there he met who would soon coagulate into the WG.

That being said, he found he could make more money if he ran the show, so entered the formation of the Wild Geese.

When he lost his eye, he temporarily considered getting a fake glass eye but (thank you cocolacola <3) Seras gave him the eyepatch as a “welcome to Hellsing sorry for flicking you” offering.

He’s got some unsorted trauma from losing his eye but he’s an adamant “it’s not that bad I don’t need to talk about it” kind of guy. Toxic masculinity or whatever.

In general. He’s got a lot of unresolved/undiscussed trauma. Will he ever discuss it? No.

Y’know. I feel he and Walter clicked too. They’re both a pair of war dogs who refuse to talk about being said war dogs. Pip is also under the illusion that Walter is pretty normal too until he soon realizes he is NOT. Pip and Walter worked together a lot in creating training drills, tweaking defense systems, and Pip ran the whole “this is our new defense plan” by the latter and both were maybe too excited to bond over insane artillery.

Pip is not allowed in the gunshop though.

When it comes to Integra, this man has mad respect for her and after the first greeting, he would never dare to disrespect her to her face or without good humor.

Alucard is another…can of worms. Pip and Alucard have this odd ‘bro code’ honor between them but not much else. Really Pip only talks to Alucard because Seras serves as some type of liaison.

As Seras’ familiar, I feel he develops ‘powers’- in a non-traditional sense.

Memory barricades, psychic blocks/links, a minor form of omnipresence, and an adaptation of Seras’ skills when he branches out of her arm.

He can materialize fully but not for long and is tethered to Seras via her shadow, so if that is cut, he dissipates.

Miscellaneous

He is a polyglot! French, Dutch, Italian, Spanish, English fluently. Arabic, German, and Greek intermittently.

He's a pescetarian. A failing one.

Pip is a practicing Protestant but you’d never hear him be too open about it and he’s not a calendar Christian either. He’s pretty devoted.

Walter C. Dornez

Born September 30th, 1930. Left handed.

The ‘C’ stands for Christaan: yes that’s how it’s spelled, it’s Dutch.

This is my small blip on anon about his parents

Tldr; Walter is maternally a Seward. His mother is Seward’s daughter and served as a nurse in WWI. She’s also the original holder of the monofilament wires, a vampire hunting weapon devised by the Sewards and their assistance to Hellsing in the early 1890s-1910-20s.

His father is from the Netherlands and served in the war.

He grew up in Rotterdam, Netherlands, until May 1940 when the Nazis invaded the Netherlands.

In their exit from continent Europe, his parents parted ways. Mother took him to England, father stayed behind to aid resistance. He never came back.

His mother left him in the stead of Hellsing as they are technically family friends and also left him with her precious wires.

Started as a hall-boy, moved to a footman in 1941 and then was conscripted into Hellsing full-time forces in 1942, earning the moniker the same year.

A 14 year old being a butler is ridiculous. As a history major, one who has an area of study in grand-house culture (staff and aristocracy) and hierarchy, it would be UNFOUNDED to have someone so young and seemingly inexperienced serving in a role like that.

Now when he’s older? Plausible. Especially given the decline in house staff necessity, especially after the war. So anyways, his official title is butler to the Hellsing family and valet to Sir Hellsing.

Dawn Era and Further

He was the Hellsing infantry’s lil guy. His only friends were grown men who were either scared of him or thought he was puny. He definitely had to work for his respect and favor, with lots of blood, sweat, and tears.

A big credit to his success in the ranks was his aptitude with gunsmithing. Making Hellsing’s literal arms makes you a valuable player.

If he wasn’t using wires, he was using his own handcrafted sniper rifle: Pandora.

This will be indulgent.

Warsaw, Poland 1944. Kid can not remember any of it save for emotions, blurry recollection, and now his neck hurts on occasion.

That Captain fight left him unrecognizable, even to himself, and absolutely shattered the early camaraderie he TRIED to have Alucard.

He struggled to reconcile that Hellsing was any different than Millennium given he felt they were both out for him, just in different ways.

Sometimes it’s best he doesn't remember.

Poland definitely changed him for the worse - intense conditioning to violence made it near impossible for him to adapt back to the real world and being so pivotal in Hellsing forces so early on gave him quite the ego.

He attended Balliol Harvard to study politics and economics. It was a fine time. Definitely awoke something in him. GAY. HE’S GAY. College was in general not too kind to him in the regard that trying to go back to a strange calm after his tumultuous teen years was……..immensely damaging to his psyche.

Alucard. God where do I start. They had a…rivals to friends to no-contact to rivals to coworkers to friends to lovers (?) to amorous thoughts to haters to rivals to classy exes to…vampire fights in leather. It’s complicated.

Integra is his absolute darling. He loves her so much despite being a ‘I hate kids’ individual leading up to that. He loved her as the daughter he never had/never will have and also because it evened Arthur out completely.

Speaking of Arthur. Walter and Arthur have a complicated relationship- not quite father/son, not quite employer/employee, not quite sir/valet. Arthur was almost too casual with Walter early on but later, they developed a strange, taut but friendly mutual respect.

Events of Hellsing

He died in ep5. He looked like a shattered jam jar on the streets of London when the Captain was done with him. I refuse to accept otherwise.

Vampirism obviously saved him- for better or for worse is up to you.

This is another bag of marshmallows but I like to think his vampire form is. Uncanny. He’s got some strange new features that distinctly set him apart from natural vampires, a common trait with Millennium engineered vampires.

Miscellaneous

Woman magnet. This man pulled from his 20s to his 40s. Crazy thing though? This man is not into women. Lmao. He has the ‘single attractive bachelor who is single for a reason’ vibe.

Despite not being a fan of Arthur’s…colorful liveliness…he did some fun, maybe wild things in his youth too. He was no stranger to drinking, going to clubs, dancing, and has perhaps tried a substance or two. Anything to cope.

Not even he knows how the wires work…he only knows they listen to him.

They also function like web shooters or hooks if he controls the tension correctly.

He is decked in scars from monofilament training. Has almost lost fingers MANY TIMES

#hellsing #hellsing ultimate #hellsing the dawn #long post #long text #headcanons #seras victoria #integra fairbrook wingates hellsing #integra hellsing #pip bernadotte #walter dornez #walter c dornez #character building and lore building #my own ideas in long form #please interact with this i am begging #go zero notes go!!

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wanderingblindly · 9 months

Note

hi liquid!! suzzzzuka here, on anon bc sideblog functionalities suck lmao.

☰ for the ask game? with let’s say… ybmctg & enemies to lovers?? <3

suzzzzuka darling!!!! hello!!!!! ((also can i just say i was so excited when i saw u were on tumblr after i read your landoscar office AU oh my god))

This is a CHALLENGE but I'm into it, let's go!!!

☰ send a fic and an unrelated trope and I’ll remix it

I have no idea what this is, but I wrote a thousand words of something!! It's almost, in a weird way, a preface to YBMCTG?

Concept: Oscar fucked up their first meeting when he started working at the bar; Lando's held a one-sided grudge ever since, and Oscar has no idea why his coworker hates him so much.

Jenson hadn't warned him about this.

Admittedly, he's not entirely sure what Jenson could have said. 'The talent's hot, by the way. Be cool 'bout it, yeah?' wouldn't have prepared him for this. 'This' being the man sitting dead center at his bar, an aura of otherworldliness emanating from him like a halo. He’s not like anything Oscar’s seen before – not in the streets of his suburban hometown, not in the ungodly boredom of his seminars. He’s something that can only exist here, in the spaces drenched in alcohol and debauchery.

Oscar’s gaze quickly flicks down to his shoulders, his chest, hardly covered in anything more than fishnets.

The man’s eyes are icy in their intensity, fixated on Oscar's hands as he grips the necks of a couple beers between his fingers, popping the caps efficiently. Before Oscar can open his mouth to ask what he's drinking tonight, he beats him to it.

"Archers and lemonade, pleeeeease." Oscar's eyes are glued to his lips, stretching into a lazy smile as he leans over the bar. The glossy shine of his lipstick looks dangerous in the dark bar, beckoning to him like a siren's song.

He's quiet for just a beat too long, brain running in every direction besides the sorry excuse for a mixed drink on his to-do list. Oscar moves quickly to compensate, the pours brief and easy.

"I see you've met our star of the night." Jenson smiles as he slides next to him, grabbing the drink out of Oscar's hand before he can place it in front of him. The musician makes a noise of offense, flashing Oscar a look that makes his stomach churn. He doesn’t know what to do with this, with black-lined eyes clearly asking him for something as his boss sits right there. Another drink? Telling Jenson off?

“So you’re in the band?” Oscar finally manages to say something, keeping an ear out for his response as a man flags him down for another round of shots.

“Lead singer, at your service.” He does a faux salute, Oscar notices the broad span of his palm with entirely neutral feelings.

Oscar slides him another archers and lemonade, hopeful that Jenson is adequately distracted by Sebastian to keep away. “What kind of music? You look very…” Oscar wracks his brain for any band to reference, realizing he’s accidentally put himself on the spot. “KISS.” He hopes they're still relevant to anyone besides his dad.

The singer’s eyes darken as the track shifts, Oscar’s sentence exposed in the moment of dead air.

“Thanks for this,” He hops to his feet, tone flatter and mesmerizing lips tighter than when this all started. Sebastian looks over with a raised brow at the sudden movement. As Oscar opens his mouth to reply, the musician reaches out with a steady head and places his fingers on top of the glass, eyes trained on Oscar’s face.

And pushes.

“Oops.” He faux-winces as the drink spills across the bar, splashing Oscar’s shirt in its force – he jumps for a rag instinctively, grabbing the glass before it can roll and shatter. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

Someone needs another mezcal old fashioned, someone’s drunkenly calling for sex on the beach, Sebastian is looking at him with a look he doesn’t understand –

And the musician is gone.

—

“I’m gonna go talk to him,” Jenson whispers into Sebastian’s ear, stopped in his tracks by a deceptively strong grasp on his thigh.

“No, you won’t.” Sebastian smiles, the one that sends a shiver down Jenson’s spine – trouble. “We’ll see what happens.”

—

Maybe this job isn’t working out for him. His bosses are fine, if not a little odd, and the crowds are vaguely well-behaved. Surely it’s no worse than any other bar in London, definitely better than the proper dives closer to campus.

The main problem is right in front of him, unavoidably sitting in the center of his bar. Again.

“What d’you mean y’don’t know how to make a hitman?” Lando asks, the heavy black around his eyes making him look vicious in the low, shifting lights. It’s the same conversation they had last week, the week before – Lando asking for a drink Oscar’s pretty positive doesn’t even exist with the confidence of a seasoned mixologist.

“Tell me what’s in it, and I got it.” Oscar replies, sparing him a glance as he dumps a few glasses into the dishwasher. His glare makes his stomach twist painfully, like being flayed and gutted by someone seeking vengeance – not someone well-acquainted with delicacy.

He rolls his eyes and yells towards Sebastian, half occupied with whatever concoction Jenson is creating between their two drinks. “Ya gotta hire someone more comp…” He furrows his brows, “good at the job, Seb.”

“He is perfectly competent,” Sebastian calls back, reaching out to pat Oscar’s arm gently.

Ignoring the sting of his invisible wounds, Oscar moves down to figure out what the bickering gaggle of French speakers need.

—

Can someone be beautiful because they’re mean? Or is it always in spite of it?

Oscar’s eyes, against his better judgment, gravitate towards the stage. But perhaps that’s just inevitable, eyes following Lando when he’s steps above everyone else, bearing down on them with the sheer force of his presence.

His voice, usually spitting something acidic and pointed at him from across the bar, is raw – vulnerable – as he grips the microphone with both hands. They envelop it, smothering it, as his lips press against it and he croons out the opening to a ballad.

Goosebumps break out across his skin as the bass creeps in, lifting Lando’s voice up like a prayer over the crowd.

The lights, flashing their usual pattern of red blue red blue, reflect against the summer-bleached gold in his unruly curls – another halo.

—

“KISS doesn’t do it like that, do they?” Lando says, rough voice almost haughty as he sits down in his seat – black shirt completely unbuttoned, chest glistening with sweat and metal.

He puts a glass of water in front of Lando immediately, dropping in a black straw. “Uh, I guess?” Oscar replies, not entirely sure where Lando’s going with this. But he’s being less abrasive than usual, the glare in his eyes a bit less pointed. “Don’t really know KISS all that well, mate.”

Lando stares at him, narrowed eyes blowing wide. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

Oscar pauses, hands freezing around the martini shaker he’d grabbed for the girl to Lando’s left. “No?”

“You don’t know KISS.” He doesn’t say it as a question. Like there’s some connection Oscar isn’t making, some red thread on a corkboard he can’t connect, Oscar looks at him in confusion.

“...No?” Oscar’s stopped moving all together now, other patrons temporarily forgotten as he watches the range of expressions dance across Lando’s face. Surprise, maybe? Something like shock. “Why?”

“I… hate them.” Lando says simply – if not a little absentmindedly. “Sorry about, um. Well.” He puts down his glass, hand visibly shaking; before Oscar can ask if he’s ok, ask what he’s even talking about, Lando stumbles off his barstool and paces over towards Sebastian.

He watches as Sebastian laughs, clapping Lando on the shoulder and waving cheerily towards the bar. Oscar flashes a weak wave back, uncertain, before noticing that Lando’s looking over as well – his face is red. Not just from the lights. But his cheeks, down his neck, the exposed planes of his chest, they’re red.

Oscar flushes, too.

Maybe if he’s sorry…

#I didn't even edit this idk what it is #man i should write a real enemies to lovers one day huh #you bring me closer to god #landoscar #ask me :)

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nahoney22 · 1 year

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hey, honey! congratulations on 3000! you deserve it and so much more for your incredible work. could i possibly request fox with gn!reader and the prompt “why are you really here? to mock me? to... make me hate you more?” “no. none of that. i came to be a friend, because it really looks like you need one right now.” ? thank you, and i love you 3000 (lmao i think i'm hilarious)

3000 Prompt List Celebration

Commander Fox X GN!Reader

word count: 1.8k

SFW

Prompt:

“Why are you really here? To mock me? To make me hate you more?” • “No, none of that I came to be a friend, because it really looks like you need one right now.”

warnings: Gender Neutral reader, platonic or romantic relationship reader can decide. Slight angst. Reader stressed with Job and Fox being a difficult man but redeems himself.

authors note: so sorry for the wait. Enjoy. Love you 3000 💕

Working for the Coruscant Guard had been a dream come true for you personally, but the reality of the job proved far more grueling than expected. The constant barrage of files and responsibilities heaped upon your shoulders was enough to exhaust even the most resilient individuals.

Though despite the demanding workload, there were silver linings.

You managed to form friendships with some of the Corrie guards during your shifts. Surprisingly to you, they managed to keep their tempers in check, resisting the urge to smack a certain Supreme Chancellor who often pushed their limits.

And during the rare moments of respite when the workload lightened, you quite enjoyed your time being stuck in an office with a bunch of rowdy clones. Which is quite funny seeing as they’re meant to be the strictest of the lot.

However, such peaceful and carefree moments were interrupted by a certain Commander. When he entered the room it felt like life was sucked out of it.

For reasons unbeknownst to you, Commander Fox seemed determined to keep a watchful eye on your every move. He persisted in requesting double-checks of your work, even when you were confident of its accuracy. It felt as though he was intentionally trying to catch you off guard and embarrass you.

Nonetheless, you refused to fall to his tactics.

Inevitably, a day arrived when the mounting pressure became too much, and Commander Fox seemed to have the upper hand. Weariness weighed heavily upon you as you mustered the energy to address him once more. "Commander, I assure you, everything has been thoroughly checked and is accurate," you stated with a hint of frustration and a suppressed yawn. The lack of sleep over the past week was taking its toll on you.

Fox's piercing gaze intensified behind his visor as he swiped his finger slowly through the files, creating an almost agonising atmosphere. A nervous knot now formed in your stomach, sensing that something was wrong with doubt beginning to gnaw at you.

"I... I believe so," you replied, attempting to sound confident, but your wavering voice betrayed your uncertainty. The room that was once filled with silent chatter fell into a now hushed silence as the clones you worked alongside subtly tuned in.

Fox's chuckle, laced with a hint of mockery, only added to your growing unease. He seemed to relish the moment as he posed the pivotal question, "Then please tell me the date you had added to all these files?"

You took a steadying breath, trying to maintain composure. "Today's date," you answered firmly, as it was the truth.

Though you couldn't see his expression hidden behind the distinctive red helmet, you had a gut feeling that he was smirking. He handed the files back to you, and for a moment, he said nothing. The silence in the room was palpable, and everyone's attention was fixated on the exchange.

Then, in a commanding voice that reverberated through the room, Fox broke the silence. "Perhaps you should now triple-check the work you submit."

The weight of his words hung heavily in the air. You fought to remain composed, but beneath the façade, your nerves were fraying. Fox walked away, hands clasped behind his back and you could sense the watchful eyes of your fellow clones.

As soon as you realised your mistake, a sinking feeling washed over you, and frustration mixed with embarrassment began to build inside. All those files, painstakingly worked on, were now marred by a glaring error of you signing the wrong date. You couldn’t help but feel defeated.

The mounting tension in the room weighed heavily on everyone present as you finally snapped, unable to hold back your emotions any longer. "Do you have a problem with me?"

Gasps and sputtering sounds of someone spitting their caf everywhere echoed throughout the room as the unexpected outburst startled your colleagues. Their eyes darted between you and Commander Fox, unsure of how the situation would unfold. Fox, though surprised by the confrontation, halted in his tracks.

He turned around to face you, and you met his gaze through his visor with a glare that could pierce beskar. The tension grew even thicker, but to your surprise, Fox's response was not the belittling or combative reaction you had anticipated.

"Do your job properly, and then we won't have a problem," he retorted sternly, maintaining his composure. His words cut deep, but they were not entirely unjustified. You knew that he had high expectations for the members of the Coruscant Guard, and your error had obviously fallen short of those standards.

His next words, however, were what stung the most. "I expect you to stay here after your shift and correct all 700 reports you did wrong." And with that, he left.

You were in for a long night.

As your weary eyes struggled to remain open, you lost count of the files and reports you corrected during the hours that stretched far beyond the end of your shift. The weight of exhaustion bore down on you, and despite your best efforts to stay awake, sleep finally overpowered you. Your head fell onto your arms, the makeshift pillow offering a moment of rest.

You had no idea how long you had dozed off but the rustling sound nearby gradually pulled you back to consciousness.

Blinking your eyes open, you were met with the sight of a pair of gloved hands adorned with red armor along the arm. A very familiar colour. It took a moment for your drowsy mind to register who was sitting beside you, but when recognition struck, it felt like someone shot a cannonball to your head.

"W-what are you doing here?" you stammered, quickly sitting up and attempting to arrange the scattered files neatly, hoping to convey that you had not just been sleeping on the job. Yet, glancing at the time on one of the control panels, you realised with a sinking feeling that you had managed to nap for at least an hour.

The figure beside you, none other than Fox himself, remained impassive behind his helmet, his expression unreadable to you. He had caught you at a vulnerable moment, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of embarrassment.

Before you could utter any further explanation or apologise for your unintentional nap, Fox finally spoke in his usual stern tone. "I came to see your progress," he said simply, giving no indication of whether he was displeased or approving of what he had observed.

You straighten your posture, trying to shake off the residual fatigue and regain your composure. "I've been working to correct the mistakes.” You attempt to inform him but he says nothing.

As you both continued working in an oddly comfortable silence, the initial shock of finding Commander Fox assisting you in correcting the files lingered in the back of your mind. He seemed entirely engrossed in the task at hand, efficiently working through the documents you had messed up, and you couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't woken you. Moreover, the sight of the multiple cups of caf nearby suggested that he had been there for quite some time.

After a few minutes passed, your curiosity got the better of you, and you mustered the courage to break the silence. "Why are you really here? To mock me? To make me… hate you more?"

Fox paused momentarily, sitting up straight and finally turning his head to look at you. The visor of his helmet was still impassive, but there was a sense of sincerity in his response that caught you off guard. "I'm here because I really enjoy filling out files," he said flatly.

Though, he actually was offering a hint of humor, it didn't seem to elicit the response he might have hoped for.

He sighed, and for a brief moment, you wished you could see his face to gauge his expression better. "No, none of that. I came to be a friend, because it really looks like you need one right now," he admitted candidly.

The unexpected exchange between you and Commander Fox revealed a side of him that you hadn't anticipated. While you initially wanted to dismiss his offer of friendship, you couldn't deny that his actions spoke louder than his strict demeanor. He had shown a level of kindness and consideration you hadn't seen before, and it made you reassess your perceptions of him.

"I was not aware that you hated me. This kind of information should be passed on so we can move you to an environment you are more comfortable in," he mentioned, sounding genuinely surprised. You realized that perhaps you had been too quick to assume hostility in his actions without fully understanding his intentions.

"Okay, maybe hate wasn't the right word to use, Commander, but I just always feel like you're harder on me than others," you admitted, acknowledging that your feelings might have influenced your perception of him.

Fox turned to face you fully, and the swiveling chair made a soft sound as he did so. "Naturally, I have to be strict with beginners. It’s how I was treated when I first started out. However, I can now see that the workload has had an impact on your sleep," he explained, offering an understanding perspective.

You felt a bit embarrassed by your moment of vulnerability but appreciated his attempt at openness. "I'm so sorry for falling asleep," you apologised, still feeling a sense of responsibility for your earlier mistake.

He waved away your apology, putting you at ease. "No need. I would have woken you if someone of high importance was to enter. Also, don't think I haven't nodded off once or twice while working," he admitted with a hint of humor, surprising you with his forthrightness.

Your smile grew, and you felt an actual change between you both. "Really? Ever got caught?" you inquired.

"Of course not," he chuckled, his amusement infectious. He then tapped his helmet lightly, explaining, "That's why I wear this. It scares some of the shinies when they show up here, though. They just think I'm glaring at them nonstop when I'm actually catching up on some lost sleep."

You chuckled at the image, realising that even the seemingly unyielding Commander Fox had his moments of vulnerability. "You don't sleep much?" you asked, looking back at the multiple cups of caf by his side.

"Can't you tell?"

The two of you continued with this surprisingly good small talk and it comes to no surprise to you that some of his brothers had offloaded their work unbeknownst to you onto you.

You could definitely feel the tension between you both fade as you continued in through the night and you couldn’t help but feel like a bond was formed when he gently pushed a cup of caf in your direction.

Masterlist

Prompt Works

Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @blustalker @by-the-primes @the-bad-batch-baroness

#commander fox x you #commander fox x reader #Corrie guard #nahoney22 writes #fox x you #fox x reader

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starsandgutters · 21 days

Note

Kevaaron #38 <333

38. Multiverse/Meeting Alternate Version of Self

Multiverse immediately made me think of Spiderman lmao. This is a bit bonkers, but to be fair, so was the prompt 😃

CW: References to Aaron’s history of addiction & the bathroom incident Vomit mention Teeny tiny kink discussion

Aaron wonders if perhaps his entire life up to this point has been some kind of drug daze. Perhaps he’s passed out in the trailer park he and Tilda crashed at for a couple of months, that time the high made him so nauseated he couldn’t stand up. He also couldn’t go into the trailer, as Tilda had her current not-quite-boyfriend over, and so he’d crawled into the space beneath it to get out of the sun, closed his eyes, and rode the sick waves for an indecipherable amount of time. Aaron had been quite convinced he was going to die that time. Perhaps he did. Perhaps this is his pre-death vision.

Or maybe he’s still in the bathroom, curled tight in the foetal position in the tub. Perhaps the aching shakes of his body have stopped. The quick forced withdrawal finally breaking his mind down. Hallucination a final stage of that agony, or again, it could be death. Palmetto, the Foxes, all of it. Nothing more than a projection of his dying mind. No fucked up mafia deals, no Katelyn, no championship against the Foxes, no Kevin Day a personal presence in his life.

All of that would make more sense than this. This being a mirror image of himself staring back at him. Not Andrew, no, but Aaron. Same scar across his left eyebrow, same dimple in his left cheek, same chipped right incisor slanting down into a point. This would all be weird enough, without the Spiderman suit and the fact he literally popped into existence in front of Aaron and Kevin on their way back from the library.

“Aw fuck. I was hoping to get you by yourself.”

“What the fuck?” Kevin says. Aaron can’t speak. Aaron is stunned silent.

“Ehhh. Shit, no time, I’ll have to take you both.” The other Aaron flicks his wrist, twin- are those webs? Depending on which version his alternative Spider-self is based on, it would actually impact what kind of- No. Why the fuck is Aaron fixating on that? That is so not the greater issue at hand here. Before he can reply, Spider-Aaron tugs on his maybe-webs and pulls Aaron and Kevin closer. They collide with the force of the movement, the sticky maybe-web substance catching between them and holding them together. Spider-Aaron glances over his shoulder, pulling a face at whatever he sees in the glowing… is that a portal? Aaron doesn’t even know. He tugs his mask down again. “Hang tight.”

Spider-Aaron kicks off backwards, dragging Aaron and Kevin with him. Aaron clenches his eyes shut, unable to stand the sudden brightness he’s surrounded by. He feels an unanticipated drop, his stomach light and tingling like he forgot it in the free fall. It can’t be more than a handful of seconds but it feels like they’re caught in that drop for a small eternity, cold air whipping past them. When they abruptly stop, feet hitting solid ground again, Aaron and Kevin collapse. Aaron gasps for breath. Kevin dry heaves beside him. Once, twice, then it’s no longer dry, Kevin puking the contents of his stomach up.

Aaron is on his back. Spider-Aaron is standing above him, looking at him upside down. From somewhere outside of his line of sight, he hears a girl’s voice say: “What the fuck?” She says it with the exact same tone and inflection that Kevin did less than a minute ago.

“Alright. Looks like we’ve just shifted a little to the left. Should be easy for you to adapt here, at least.”

“The fuck are you?” Another voice says. Aaron turns his head. There are two girls. One is tall, with light brown skin, bright green eyes, and a queen tattoo emblazoned on her left cheek. From his peripheral, Aaron can see the other girl is much shorter, her hair falling in messy blonde waves, cut just below her chin. He can’t look away from that tattoo though, his heart beat picking up.

“Long story very short, I’m you,” Spider-Aaron says. He looks down at Aaron again. “And also you.”

Kevin finishes gagging and groans pathetically. He has yet to notice the girl wearing his tattoo.

“There’s a villain in my world dimension jumping to try and kill out the other versions of me. He’s targeting his world next, so I needed somewhere to stow him until I can deal with it.”

“What?” Aaron sits up, alarmed. There’s someone who looks exactly like him in his world. He is not reassured by this. “Andrew.”

“He’s blind and tracking off atomic make-up. It’s a whole thing, I really don’t have time,” Spider-Aaron says. “Your Andrew will be fine.”

“That’s not me,” the blonde girl says. She’s scowling down at Aaron now. Her scowl is eerily familiar. He can feel the lines of it forming on his own face in automatic response. Her brow furrows deeper as she recognises his expression, and then they’re both frowning at each other.

“Holy shit,” both Kevins say at the same time.

“Look. I just have to leave this version of us here for a while until I can deal with the threat, then I’ll take him back to his world. Kevin was unfortunate timing, but you’ll have to deal with it. I can’t stay much longer.”

“You can’t just fucking leave us here,” Aaron hisses, but Spider-Aaron has already shot a web to the lamppost above them, pulling himself up.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He opens a portal behind him. He pauses, just for a moment, mask rolled up as he looks down at them. Aaron swears he sees a brief smirk on his face before he pulls the mask down again. “Have fun.”

Then he’s gone with another blinding flash.

“This is not real,” fem Aaron mutters. Which is an absolutely valid response that Aaron would 100% support her in if he had not just been ripped through the portal himself. Even now, he’s still on the fence about whether this is a pre-death hallucination, so.

“Holy shit,” both Kevins repeat. Aaron has only been in the presence of double Kevin Day for less than five minutes and they’re already giving him a tension headache. It is only Kevin beginning to hyperventilate that rocks Aaron into action. His Kevin. Well, not his, but the Kevin from his- Whatever. You get it. He pushes up into a crouch and moves across to Kevin, pulling his shoulders back to straighten them out.

“Breathe, Kevin. Breathe. Come on. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, it’s fucking weird.”

Well, Aaron can’t really argue with that. He glances up at the girls, body angled so he’s a defensive shield between Kevin and them. The misfortune of this is that it puts them at his back. He hates having his back turned to anyone he doesn’t trust, which is a very small amount of people indeed. Even more so when he already feels vulnerable.

Fem Aaron sighs and pinches her nose. At some point she has also moved, taken a step in front of her Kevin so she’s tucked behind one shoulder. Apparently it is Aaron instinct to put Kevin behind them, regardless of gender.

“This is not real,” the fem Kevin says, laughing. “This is not happening. This is a weird dream. Although, I feel if I were going to dream another you, I would not have brought another version of myself. Like, I think I’d rather just have two Aarons. Kind of a threesome deal, you know? God. That would be hot. If this is a dream, can I control it? Hey, other Kevin, can you just go away, you’re kind of killing the vibe.”

Kevin looks up at her, eyes narrowed in one of his bitchiest glares even as he struggles to breathe. She tilts her head asessingly, then glances over at her Aaron, who has pushed her hand to her forehead now and is taking a deep breath as if begging a higher power for patience. It is a very relatable gesture.

“Though, I don’t look awful as a guy, do I?”

“I’m not doing this,” fem-Aaron mutters.

“I mean, you’d fuck me, right?”

“Oh my god.”

The bitchy look melts from Kevin’s face and he looks to fem Aaron with a hint of interest through the panic. Now it is Aaron’s turn to press a hand to his forehead and sigh deeply. With his free hand, he lightly clips Kevin around the back of the head.

“Hey.” Kevin’s glare returns, aimed at Aaron this time.

“This is no one’s sex dream,” Aaron hisses. “If anything, it’s my fucking nightmare.”

“Amen,” his feminine counterpoint says. “We can’t take them back to the dorms. Nicky would have a field day with this. Andrew would go mad. He’ll never believe it.”

Aaron can’t believe he’s going to suggest this: “What if we go to the court?”

They try to stick to the shadows as they make their way to the court, all of them skittish, none of them wanting to explain this to anyone. Sure, Aaron’s presence probably wouldn’t be questioned too much. His similarity to the other Aaron could be overlooked as coincidence, but the Kevins’ tattoos? Less so.

They keep a distance between themselves as well. Kevin has calmed down some. Even in this insane scenario, the thought of the court is enough to soothe him. He sticks annoyingly close to Aaron as they walk on the far side of the path from the others. Fem Kevin sticks close to her Aaron too, but Aaron notices she’s clutching her hand in a tight grip. It makes him feel weird, seeing that. The back of his neck prickles and there’s an uncomfortable twist in his stomach that might be envy. He looks down at his hand, Kevin’s swinging so close to it. Aaron curls his fingers in against his palm, then shoves his hands into his hoodie pocket.

It takes Kevin longer to notice the hand holding, only picking up on it when fem Aaron moves to type in the keypad code as fem Kevin fishes her keys out of her pocket, their non-dominant hands still clasped between them. Kevin looks from their hands, to Aaron’s face, widening his eyes. Aaron glares back at him. Kevin moves his head back and forth, widening his eyes for emphasis. Aaron plays ignorant, huffing and looking away. As always, Kevin can’t just leave things fucking be.

“You’re holding hands,” he says. As if that is not already obvious. No fucking shit, Sherlock. Fem Aaron glances over her shoulder, her narrowed gaze matching Aaron’s. Fem Kevin looks like she tries to loosen her grip, but her Aaron only holds on firmer.

“So?”

“So why are you holding hands? We don’t hold hands.”

“Sucks to be you,” fem Kevin sneers. Any attempt at escape is gone as she pulls Aaron closer, propping her chin atop her head. It does kind of look like she’s using her as a human shield, but her Aaron relaxes back against her. Aaron’s stomach does the unpleasant twist again. Kevin looks down at his empty hand, flexing it.

“You didn’t answer. I’m just curious. I didn’t mean anything by it.” Kevin’s voice comes out less sharp this time. Perhaps he recognises something in the face so similar to his own, something that makes him soften.

“Because she’s my girlfriend.” Fem Kevin raises one brow, her expression suggesting she finds Kevin stupid. She looks eerily like some of the video clips Aaron has seen of Kayleigh Day. Even more so than his Kevin. That is to say, the Kevin from his world. “I’m assuming the fact you’re wasting our time with such a foolish question means you two are not dating.”

Her eyes flick briefly to Aaron, then back to Kevin again. Her expression still seems flat and bitchy, but Aaron can tell she’s amused. There’s the same cues as Kevin’s face. The barely noticeable crease at the corners of her mouth, the brightness in her pretty green eyes. Fuck. He knows Kevin is attractive. Obviously. That feels like a universal fact, but Aaron never considered what he might look like as a woman. It is not that she is more attractive than Kevin, she’s just different. Even then, not by much. There’s only the slightest difference to her facial structure. Her hair is actually shorter than Kevin’s currently is. Her curves are barely noticeable; the slight swell of her chest not much different from Kevin’s pecs, the curve of her hips and thighs only a fraction wider. They really are quite similar, but as they step into the light of the court, Aaron can’t help but think that she’s fucking gorgeous. He probably would have acknowledged his attraction for this Kevin a lot sooner than he did for his own. Perhaps there is some gender bias to that. Perhaps after thinking his whole life that he was only supposed to like women, it would just have been easier to admit how hot he finds Kevin like this.

It was not as easy with his Kevin, and still he regularly wishes he did not. Clearly for all their similarities there is one big difference between his alternate version and himself. This Kevin clearly found something worthwhile in this Aaron, something desirable. His Kevin would never look at him that way. Though her Kevin is giving him an appraising side eye, perhaps noticing the way Aaron is trying to subtly check her out. He feels himself flush immediately red. The other Aaron also catches her Kevin looking and flushes similarly. God. It’s worse seeing how obvious his blushing is from an outside perspective. He’s going to be hyper aware of that from now on.

“Can you not,” fem Aaron hisses.

“What? He’s still you.”

“No he’s not. I’m me.”

“He’s also you. I’m just admiring what you could have looked like.”

“Admire my fist,” fem Aaron says, and punches Kevin on the arm. Though Aaron notices she definitely pulls off the force of her blow just before it makes contact. He does the same. He can never bring himself to hit Kevin full force, regardless of how much he annoys him. Speaking of Kevin, Aaron glances towards him to see how he’s doing. Only to find him staring at fem Aaron’s chest.

“Excuse me?”

“Hm?”

“Oh fuck off,” fem Aaron says, also spotting Kevin. “Stop staring at my tits, you pervert.”

“I’m not! It’s just- It’s weird. You look so alike, and I’m just thinking, if you were… That’s the body you’d have… It’s just weird!”

Aaron really wants to punch Kevin with all his strength this time, but he can’t follow through with it. He still thinks the punch he delivers to his arm is fair enough though, all things considered.

“Ow! Aaron.” Kevin whines, flashing wide eyes at Aaron.

“She’s less annoying than you,” Aaron says, even though fem Kevin was also checking him out. Again, it’s a gender bias, but it does feel less creepy than Kevin openly gawking at a woman's chest. Kevin looks suitably chastened by Aaron’s scolding, so that’s something at least. He looks back to the other pair. “So. You’re Kevin and Aaron too?”

God, it feels weird saying his own name.

“Obviously,” fem Aaron says.

“Right. Just. Not typical girl names, are they?”

“Fuck off.” She tugs on her Kevin’s hand and starts leading the way down the corridor, glancing warily over her shoulder every so often as they go. They all pause outside the changing rooms, the girls heading automatically towards the girl’s locker room, before realising that would not be where Aaron and Kevin go.

“Do we have gear for them?” Fem Kevin asks. “I think mine would probably fit him, but you…”

This time it is her looking at fem Aaron’s curves. Aaron huffs and folds her arms across her chest. Kevin whines at the loss of her hand. Aaron thinks despite the noticeable curves of her chest, the slightly broader hips, that their proportions are not that different. He has the same softness around his stomach, the same thickness in his thighs and upper arms. He regrets to notice that even their asses seem similar - both because he has to look to compare, and also because he’d rather not think of his ass as feminine, thank you. He supposes it makes sense, if they’re just slightly altered versions of each other.

“We’re not actually going to play exy, are we?” Aaron asks.

“It’ll calm him down,” fem Aaron says, nodding at Kevin. Aaron bristles at her acting like she knows what will calm Kevin down. Even if she is right. “Wait here.”

She hip checks her Kevin through the door of the changing room. Aaron sighs and steps back to lean against the wall opposite the door. Kevin moves to stand by his side.

“This is weird,” Kevin says.

“Yeah.”

“You make a cute girl.”

“Shut up.” Aaron’s face heats again. Ugh. So regardless of the version of Kevin, they apparently all prefer Aaron as a girl. Perfect. Now he’s feeling jealous over his stupid alternative self. He doesn’t really believe it, but just to be spiteful, he says: “You’re hotter as a woman.”

“You would think that,” Kevin mutters, dejectedly looking at the ground.

“What?”

“Nothing. This isn’t real, right?”

“I don’t know. It feels more real than a dream. I feel too self aware for it to be a dream. Usually if I realise I’m dreaming, I wake up.”

“Maybe there was an accident on the court and I took head trauma.”

“So it was literally the Spiderman version of me that brought us here, and you think it’s your dream? You are so self centred.”

“Why would we be going to play exy if it were your dream, hm?”

“Because I’m always doing annoying shit for your sake!”

“Hmph.” Kevin folds his arms across his chest, pouting. They are both quiet for a long moment. They can hear the murmured sound of the girls’ voices through the door, as well as the metallic clang of lockers.

“I didn’t mean that you look bad as a guy,” Kevin starts.

“Stop talking.”

Aaron is saved any further argument on this by his feminine equivalent pushing open the door. She pops her head out, eyes them warily, then holds out the away versions of their uniforms.

“You’ll just have to see if those fit.”

“Thanks,” Aaron says, not because he’s really grateful, but because it feels like the right thing to say. She gives a brief nod and vanishes back through her door. He and Kevin turn and enter their usual changing room. It looks exactly the same as it always does, bar the fact that only a few of the lockers seem to be in use. Aaron touches the locker that is usually his. It looks empty. “Do you think everyone else is different too?”

“Hm?”

“The rest of the team. Here.”

“Oh, maybe. I guess that makes sense.” Kevin’s already half undressed, his focus as always on the promise of an exy court. Aaron rolls his eyes and turns away from Kevin to get changed. The uniform fits, which makes sense. It would usually have to accommodate armour as well, after all. They just dress light tonight. The way they usually do for night practices. The girls are already on the court by the time they get out, Kevin setting up cones while Aaron leans on her racquet and keeps an eye on the tunnel. She notices them immediately, and must communicate it to her Kevin in some way, for she moves to her side.

“I was thinking we could run through some drills. See how we compare,” she says, eyes on Kevin.

“They can,” fem Aaron says. Kevin looks at her with concern. “I’ll be right here.”

“You’re not going to play?”

“In a bit. Go warm up. If he’s anything like you, we’ll just be getting in the way.”

Aaron snorts. Isn’t that the truth. Kevin looks torn for barely a moment, but if there’s anything that puts him at ease, it’s running through exy drills. The hesitation is short lived. He jogs after fem Kevin, both of them barking identical orders at the same time. They look startled at first, then their faces shift into matching feral grins when they realise they may finally have someone on their level.

“This is like two energetic dogs meeting at the dog park,” fem Aaron says wryly. She sits at the edge of the court, back to the plexiglass. Aaron sits beside her. He huffs.

“What would they be? Dobermans?”

“Irish wolfhounds, perhaps, for the sheer size of them.”

“No one needs to be that tall,” Aaron agrees.

“I’m curious.”

“About?”

“You. Us. You’re not with your Kevin. That’s one difference. I’m wondering what else is different.”

“If you’re with Kevin… Did you ever have Katelyn?”

“Who?”

“Katelyn. Mackenzie. Redhead, cheerleader, she would have been your favourite person in the world.”

“He’s Kailyn here, and he still is. All of that. We split up last year though.”

“Yeah. Same. How come Katelyn gets a different name and we don’t?”

“Who knows? I don’t make the fuckin’ rules. Do you have an Andrew?”

“Yes. And Nicky.”

“And Josten?”

“Unfortunately,” Aaron says, and fem Aaron huffs in response.

“Are they all men too?”

“Yeah.”

“Weird. I feel like Neil would be even more annoying as a man.”

“I think he’d be annoying in any form.”

“True. So did all the shit happen the same? Thanksgiving, the Moriyamas… all of it?” Her voice is quiet now. Her eyes distant. She doesn’t look at Aaron. He follows her gaze, watching as the Kevins effortlessly mimic each other, knocking down cones a second apart, moving like a delayed reflection of the other.

“Yeah.”

“That fucking sucks.”

“Yeah.”

They are quiet for a stretch after that, both ruminating in the fact that the other was not spared their fate. Aaron wishes she were. Wishes if he had to go through it all, that he could have spared every other version of himself. That they wouldn’t have to carry the same burdens. Across the court, Kevin and Kevin are calling out cone numbers for the other to hit. They keep calling the same numbers.

“When did that happen?”

“Last month,” she says, not needing Aaron to clarify that he’s asking about her and Kevin. “Though it’s been brewing for a lot longer than that.”

“Yeah.”

“The same?”

“On my side.”

“I thought that too.”

“What?”

“That it was only on my side.” Fem Aaron shifts, pulling her knees up to her chest, holding them like a shield between her and the world. Aaron understands. The sheer discomfort of trying to talk about his emotions always feels like a physical sensation. He looks away to give her privacy for it, continuing to watch Kevin. “What would Kevin Day want with me, after all? I’m nothing special. Not compared to her. If she was going to risk her reputation for anyone, it wouldn’t be me. Egotistical to even think I could catch her eye.”

Aaron swallows. Her words are softly spoken, but they feel like blades beneath his skin, slicing right down to his own insecurities. He feels flayed open, left bare, every raw nerve exposed. It’s being seen in a way he never has been before.

“But it wasn’t. I just missed all the signs because I was so convinced it couldn’t be.”

“It’s different.”

“Is it? Look at them. Do they seem different?”

Kevin and Kevin are passing the ball between each other. Fast, rapid fire moves, no announcing where they’re going to throw it, making jerking movements last second. Like they’re trying to catch the other out, but both of them keep moving to catch the ball just in time.

“I’m different.”

“Because you don’t have a vagina? Hurray for you. I’m incredibly bitter you dodged periods.”

“It’s not just that. You saw him. Even between us, he’s attracted to you. Not me.”

“Is your Kevin straight?”

“I mean-”

“He’s never shown any interest in Jeremy Knox?”

“Oh fuck off, yours too?”

“Some things are universal.” She grins. “Or… multidimensional? I don’t know. I’m still not convinced this is happening.”

“Me either.”

“If it’s some kind of delusion, would this not be a good time to try? If it’s not real, what does it matter?”

“What if it is real?” Aaron says after another significant pause.

“Then it might work.” She looks at him. Aaron does not look at her. He frowns, eyes tracking Kevin, unconvinced. “It’s good, you know. Better than I thought it would be. Different. She’s more settled with me. Not all the time. You know what Kevin is like. Restless, high strung, but she’s calmer. When it’s just us. I never expected to replace exy, but she has a different kind of passion when it comes to me.”

Aaron wishes she would stop speaking. He feels like something is twisting in his chest. Something sharp and metallic. A painful bite. He pulls his own knees up, hugging them. He doesn’t want to hear about how happy this other version of him gets to be with Kevin. It doesn’t matter what she says. That’s not his reality.

“She’s worth the risk,” she finishes quietly.

“Aaron. Come play with us,” her Kevin calls. “We need defence.”

Fem Aaron huffs and rolls her eyes, but she plants her feet into the ground and pushes her back against the plexiglass, shimmying her way up.

“I won’t say anything, but you should think about it,” she says. She holds out a hand. Aaron takes it and lets her haul him to his feet. It’s weird, feeling a hand that is the same as his. Warm palm, cold fingers. She pulls on her gloves, grabs her racquet, and jogs across the court. When she reaches her Kevin she grabs the front of her jersey and tugs her down into a kiss. Kevin softens into it, one arm circling her Aaron’s waist to pull her closer.

Aaron’s sure this is her way of making some kind of point. He looks away from them, looks to Kevin, but Kevin is watching them kiss with an intense expression. Aaron sighs and pulls on his gloves, trudging his way across the court. Fem Aaron’s cheeks are flushed, but she quickly hides them by pulling on her helmet.

If playing with one Kevin is frustrating, trying to defend against two is torturous. Despite Aaron and Aaron working with an eerie synchronicity he does not even achieve with Andrew, somehow each Kevin still finds ways to slip through the gaps of their defence. They bark out commands and criticisms, ways for either Aaron to improve, or reprimands for their failures.

“Kevin,” fem Aaron finally says, a warning note in her voice. Her Kevin eases off after that. Weirdly, so does Aaron’s Kevin. Never before has he wished he was a woman, but he’s beginning to think this is the better version of his life.

Fem Aaron calls it quits just as Aaron himself is starting to feel weary. Her Kevin only whines for a moment, but one purposeful look from her Aaron shushes her. Kevin seems too invested in watching how their interactions play out to complain himself. Fem Kevin watches her Aaron, Kevin watches both of them, and Aaron watches his Kevin, feeling the old aching weight in his chest again. With a sigh, he starts stacking cones. Kevin moves to help, but fem Kevin gets there first, giving Aaron a brief smile through her helmet grate as she grabs two of the other cones, adding them to his stack.

“You can fetch the balls,” fem Aaron says to Kevin. “That seems fitting.”

“I’m not a dog.”

“Aw, so you’re not a good boy?” There’s a teasing tone to her voice, and Kevin makes a choking sound. She laughs. Her Kevin glances sideways, watching the exchange.

“Does that bother you?” Aaron asks.

“Not really. It’s kind of hot. It’s like she’s teasing me, but it’s not me, but it is me… I don’t think it feels the same as if it were someone else entirely.”

Aaron does not share this sentiment. He wishes his other self would fuck off and leave his Kevin alone. She already has her own. Why is she being selfish?

“Aw. It bothers you,” her Kevin says, eyes bright. “You should just take note.”

“Take note of what?”

“The praise kink. Duh.”

“The- what?”

“I love it when she praises me,” she whispers. “He obviously does too.”

“It’s not the same.”

“How so?”

“My Kevin doesn’t feel that way.”

“Yes he does.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“He does. He told me.”

“What?”

“When we were doing drills. He was asking loads of questions about my Aaron. How it happened. I let her make the first move though. I never wanted her to feel pressured, and I was never one hundred percent sure… Minyards are very hard to read, you know.”

“It’s not the same,” Aaron insists. He starts to walk away. She grabs his wrist. He looks back to her sharply.

“But do you want it to be?”

Aaron doesn’t answer. He yanks his wrist free from her. She sighs. Kevin is jogging back down the court, arms full of all the stray balls he’s collected. He slows as he approaches, catching the end of that interaction as Aaron pulls his arm free from fem Kevin. Kevin moves towards him.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

“Go ahead and wash up. Both of you. Kevin and I will finish clearing up,” fem Kevin says. She gives Kevin a look Aaron can’t read, and he’s too tired to try. He trudges down the tunnel, other Aaron jogging to catch up with him. They walk in silence until they reach the changing rooms again.

“What was that about?” Aaron finally asks.

“What?”

“The good boy shit.”

“He gets so flustered. It’s funny. You should try it sometime.”

Aaron allows his unimpressed expression to relay just how he feels about that suggestion, shouldering his way into the changing room. He’s just pulling his socks off when Kevin comes through the door, Aaron standing only in his boxer briefs. Kevin pauses. Aaron turns to look at him. For a moment they stand suspended on opposite sides of the room, before a determination sets into Kevin’s expression. He strides across the room, pushing Aaron back against the lockers. Aaron hisses and arches his chest when the cold metal touches his back, but that just presses him against Kevin’s sweaty jersey.

“Is it true?” Kevin asks, his voice low with a rough edge.

“What?” Aaron blinks up at him, his heartbeat racing.

“Aaron.” Kevin leans forward, his weight resting on the hands framing either side of Aaron’s head, palms against the lockers. “Is it just her? Do you like her because she’s a girl, or is it me?”

Aaron could lie. Kevin has set it up so beautifully for him. Has given him the perfect out. A way of being honest - because Aaron hates to lie, really, when it comes to anything important - without totally exposing himself. Aaron could say yeah, he sees the appeal of Kevin as a woman. He does. But regardless of how beautiful she may be, it is not her he wants. Not really. He remembers his female doppelgänger’s words. It’s good, you know. Better than I thought it would be. Different. He thinks back to every stolen glance, every touch that lingered too long, every time his heart stuttered over itself because of Kevin. His Kevin. Not like that. But what if he could be? What if it could be like that?

“No,” Aaron says, and Kevin starts to deflate. “No, it’s not her. It’s you, Kev. It’s always been you.”

Which is not true in terms of forever, or even in terms of the past couple of years, but it is true in that it feels like an eternity since Aaron had realised, and it is true in that he has never been able to see anyone past Kevin Day since.

“Aaron.”

Aaron doesn’t wait to hear what Kevin says. He thinks of fem Kevin, and how she let her Aaron make the first move. Technically Kevin has already made his move, but whatever. It is Aaron who reaches up for him. Aaron who curls his arms around Kevin’s neck. Aaron who encourages him down, who tilts his head to meet him. Aaron who slots his lips against Kevin’s as Kevin’s whole body goes slack against him, Aaron who licks along the seam of Kevin’s mouth, encourages his lips to part.

Kevin comes to life at that, pressing Aaron more firmly against the lockers. He licks heatedly into Aaron’s mouth, hands sliding down over his body. Goosebumps raise on Aaron’s bare skin under the trailing of Kevin’s touches. Kevin moans against his mouth, like he’s just remembered Aaron is barely dressed. He kisses him harder, a bruising pressure against Aaron’s mouth. Aaron tangles his fingers in Kevin’s hair and pulls, which only causes Kevin to moan again.

“God, Aaron,” Kevin breathes against his mouth.

“Yeah?”

“You.” He presses his face to Aaron’s neck, breathes him in, starts to mouth along the column of his throat. Aaron’s legs immediately start to liquify. He clutches at Kevin’s shoulders; soft, breathy sounds escaping him. Kevin works up his throat to his ear, nipping at it. “Feel good?”

“Yeah, Kev, you’re good.” Aaron says it just to see, just as an experiment. Kevin’s groan is immediate and Aaron is once again slammed against the lockers in a passionate kiss. He’s so distracted by Kevin’s mouth and Kevin’s hands and the heat of Kevin’s body against him that he doesn’t even notice the bright flash of light.

“Well, this is awkward.” Aaron and Kevin both turn their heads to find Spider-Aaron crouching on one of the benches. He closes the portal behind him and hops down. “I’ll give you a few minutes to get cleaned up.”

He arches a brow, then slips out of the room. Aaron feels terribly flush even though it’s just himself. Apparently. Kevin brushes Aaron’s hair back and kisses his forehead.

“Let’s get washed and changed.”

When they meet in the hall, the girls are already there, Aaron standing partway in front of Kevin again. Spider-Aaron is a few steps down the hall, leaning against the wall. Aaron automatically tucks Kevin behind him when they step out as well. Both girls look towards Aaron’s neck.

“I told you. Sensitive neck. Drives them crazy,” fem Kevin says, grinning widely. Both Aarons send their Kevins disbelieving glares. “What? Like you didn’t let him know about the praise kink. Fair’s fair, Aaron.”

“Edge him until he’s begging for it. Don’t let him come until he’s almost crying,” fem Aaron says viciously. Aaron feels utterly ablaze. He hasn’t had sex with Kevin yet, hasn’t even discussed it, so the thought of that… Kevin’s hand tightens where it’s grasping his and Aaron catches the smallest sharp intake of breath from him. Oh. Okay. Interesting. When they don’t have an audience of three people.

“Tease.” Fem Kevin pulls her Aaron closer, nosing at her cheek. Her Aaron raises a shoulder to nudge her away, looking down the corridor towards Spider-Aaron.

“Ready? Good. I’ve dealt with the threat. You guys can go back to your world.”

“That quick?” Aaron is unconvinced.

“Ehhh. It’s more demobilised between dimensions right now, but I’ve sealed off your world. Once I close the portal behind me again, nothing will get in. Same for here.”

“Aw. The sexy dream ends.” Fem Kevin sighs, gazing over at Aaron again. Her Aaron elbows her lightly in the ribs. She laughs, grabbing her arm. “I’m just kidding.”

“Bye then,” fem Aaron says. “Glad we could nudge you past your stubbornness.”

“Thank you.” Kevin’s voice is surprisingly genuine. He holds out his hand to fem Kevin, and they mirror each other in the way they shake. She smiles back softly.

“Cherish him.”

“I will.”

Aaron rolls his eyes, but his cheeks are heating again.

“Look after him,” fem Aaron says, then tilts her head with a huff. “We always do.”

“We do,” Aaron agrees, and they settle for a fistbump. Nothing so formal as a handshake. “Well. This has been weird as fuck.”

“So weird.”

“See you never?”

“I hope so.”

They both huff in amusement. Kevin takes Aaron’s hand. Aaron looks up at him, his smile softening.

“Hometime?”

“God, yes.”

“Step right up. Please keep your arms and legs inside the portal at all times, or you will be sliced between different dimensions of the multiverse, and that is grim,” Spider-Aaron says, in a dramatised presenter voice. Aaron wonders what exactly happened to this version of himself to make him noticeably different. He pulls something out of his belt, but then looks up, catching everyone watching him. “You’re thinking it’s not fair, right? That I get to be Spiderman and you’re stuck in your ordinary lives. You want superpowers too. You don’t really, though. Or you don’t want to pay the cost they come at, because there’s always a cost. That’s the thing about Spiderman, see? Someone always dies.”

Before Aaron can really think of who his equivalent to Uncle Ben would be - is it Nicky? Andrew? Probably not Wymack, he came too late in Aaron’s life - Spider-Aaron has caught them both in his maybe-webs. He reels them in as he steps backwards through the portal, and after another uncomfortable drop through space and time, they’re back in a corridor in the court. Their court this time.

“I’d appreciate if you didn’t spread this around,” Spider-Aaron says, pulling his webs free of them. “Though it’s not like anyone will believe you anyway. Laters!”

“Wait-!” Before Aaron can ask him any questions, he’s gone with another blinding flash. Aaron blinks the white spots from his vision. He rubs Kevin’s back as he heaves, but he doesn’t throw up this time. Kevin turns to look at him, his expression soft in a way Aaron is not used to.

“Was that real?”

“I have no fuckin’ idea. Maybe we had a shared hallucination.”

“Did you kiss me in your version of the hallucination?”

“Yeah.” Aaron laughs, resting his forehead against Kevin’s. “Yeah, Kev. I did.”

And he does it again.

#kevaaron #fox fics

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