#''hey maybe this would be a good chance to practice painting cloth''

[a-boy-called-micah]

remember how i said literally yesterday that i probably wasn’t going to finish this?? well that was a fucking lie

#art #my art #good omens #good omens crowley #i am SO HAPPY with the clothes?? like???? YES??! #shading cloth is hard smh #maybe i should've idk sat my sorry ass down and actually LOOKED at clothes and how they move but it's w/e #i may make some edits to the bg and stuff but for now this is it yeethaw #you know #this started as one of those little ''gonna sketch a pose and probably never do anything with it'' doodles #and i'm like ''yeah i'll just slap some colour on here'' #''hey maybe this would be a good chance to practice painting cloth'' #and it was all downhill from there #the HAIR #took me SO GODDAMNED LONG #and i'm still not 100% happy with it?? #BUT i'll forgive myself bc i don't usually draw people #ANYWAY i am in a VERY rambly mood tonight

[nxrthmizu]

happy birthday — tsukishima kei

pairing | tsukishima kei x reader

genre | fluff

w.c | 1.6k

↪ part two of this

second chance // an opportunity to try something again after failing one time

tsukishima kei wasn't expecting anyone. sure, it was his birthday, but he did have work the next day, and wasn't very keen on drinking himself senseless into the witching hour.

since yamaguchi, his mother, and akiteru had taken it upon themselves to inform half of japan of his birthdate, kei had just spent the past four hours repeating 'thank you' to people ranging from his junior high schoolmates and strangers he had never met. he was certain that 99% of the players involved with the japan volleyball league had shown up, much to the amazement of his museum colleagues.

the bell rings for the third time, and kei is suddenly hyperaware of how annoying the sound is. he had just sat down, for goodness's sake— was it too much to ask for one minute of rest?

with his socializing energy at an all-time-low, kei nearly tears the door off his hinges, greeting his unwelcome visitor with a fierce snarl. "what do you want—" the words clamp down on his throat, breaking his airflow for a whole five seconds as he stares, utterly floored. "... y/n?"

"...hey?" you look sheepish, holding a small, one-cake-slice-sized box in your hand. he's known you long enough to know that you did your makeup on the fly— the tremble of your eyeliner is a sure giveaway. "... uh... is this a bad time? cause i can come back later—"

"no!" he blurts, hands slamming onto the door frame. he hadn't caught a glimpse of you in six months, ever since that fateful night when you walked out through the same door you were now standing in front of. there wasn't a single night in those six, grueling months that he didn't think about you, or the warm feeling of having you contained within his arms. sure, there were nights when you two fought, heading to bed with your backs faced to each other— but when morning came, you would somehow be in his arms, and somehow kei just knew that things would blow over.

except maybe they didn't.

left with too much time to think, he analyzed every little argument the two of you ever had, critically examining every word he uttered. perhaps the break was needed— the two of you needed to take a step backwards, re-assessing what you two wanted for each other, what you two wanted together. what you said that night hadn't be wrong— there were just too many issues being swept under the rug, too many things you weren't communicating about, too many problems he elected to ignore, in hopes that they would just 'blow over'.

"i mean," he clears his throat, lifting his hand off the doorframe, groaning at the paint scratch he caused. "would... would you like to come in?"

mentally, he smacks his forehead. you don't need permission to enter! in his mind, kei still considers the apartment your home, too. even if you haven't stepped foot within its grounds for half a year.

"if that's okay?" you smile softly, holding up your cake box. "you've probably had some already, but i bought your favorite. if you're full, you could have it tomorrow morning, before work?"

"no, no, i'm not that full." kei instantly assures, even though he's already brushed his teeth. on normal circumstances, he would leave it for the next morning, but what was brushing his teeth one more time if he got to talk to you for the first time in over a hundred-eighty days?

you narrow your eyes at him playfully. "don't lie to me, tsukishima kei. i can smell your toothpaste. i'll leave it in the fridge."

a fond smirk dances over his lips as you brush past him into your apartment, leaving your shoes where you always do on the shoe rack. the sound of your sock-clad feet padding past the living room brings a truckload of tension that kei didn't know he had off his shoulders, and all of a sudden, the house feels a thousand times cozier, even if nothing materialistic has changed.

he watches you from the sofa as you bustle around the kitchen, and he knows by the number of beeps on the electric stove that you're boiling water for tea— green, probably. the ration of tea packets are restocked regularly, because when you moved in, you brought your tea addiction with you, too. kei's been lured into drinking it on a daily basis, right after dinner, as a way of calming himself down after a day of work and practice. typically, tea would be accompanied with you, snuggled up against his side as he complained about the kids he met at work that day (you both knew that he had a secret fondness for them, but shhh).

"i hope you don't mind. i made tea." you say, bringing the glass teapot you were adamant on buying a year ago. it was one of the best purchases kei ever made in the apartment, because he was reminded of the worth every single time the two of you did your regular tea routine.

"of course i don't mind." he replies instantly, picking up his mug (the green one with tiny dinos on the edge). "this is still your home, too. you don't have to ask to do anything."

he pretends not to see the flash of surprise across your features.

"right." you murmur, pressing your mug onto your lips, blowing gently on the surface.

the two of you sit in silence for a while, sipping on your tea as the clock ticks onto eleven o' clock. suppressing the urge to ask you to stay, kei taps the surface of his porcelain cup rhythmically, forgetting that you know all his tells, front to back.

"is there something on your mind?" you ask gently, setting your mug down. he grimaces.

"ah... it's nothing." kei brushes off, not wanting to come onto you too quickly. for all he knew, you were just here to deliver the cake, not to reignite whatever was left of the relation he let simmer for too long...

"... right." the tone of your voice spells i-know-you're-lying-to-me,-but-i'll-let-it-go-for-now.

the silence continues, like a set prolonged. it's starting to get on kei's nerves when you (thankfully) speak again.

"happy birthday."

"thank you." even though he's said those words a thousand times that night, it sounds a comparatively much less robotic than it had for the previous thousand times. perhaps it was thousand-first time's the charm. "i mean it. thank you for coming over."

you wave it off. "i couldn't have not come. tadashi sent me an invite, but my boss needed me to work late and i didn't manage to make it."

ah, so that was why his best friend routinely glanced at the entrance nervously throughout the night. that explained a lot.

"i don't mind." kei takes a sip of his green tea, enjoying the warmth that courses through his chest. it isn't warmer than the warmth you give him, though. "i like it like this. ... just the two of us, i mean."

you contemplate him for a moment. "i like it like this, too." you confess quietly, as if whispering a childhood secret to him behind the karasuno gym.

he couldn't bear it any longer. he's always been patient, yes, but he's seen the looks his mother and brother threw him through the night, because they both knew that the one person that really mattered wasn't there. he was pretty sure his mother was just about to introduce him to some random girl before he excused himself for the night.

"will you stay?" he blurts, feeling very un-tsukishima-kei-like. it isn't like him at all, to be brash, and bold, but how can he? for the past four hours, he's talked to countless people— heck, half of them were volleyball celebrities— but not the one he wanted to talk to.

"do you want me to?" you ask softly, shyly, and kei knows that you're thinking if he wants you back— which is stupid, honestly. he knows that you're always thinking that you're lucky to have him, when it should be the other way around. kei doesn't think there's anyone else willing to put up with his dry humor, his hectic schedule, and his dinosaur memorabilia. if anything, he should be the one thanking the gods for letting him have you.

"don't be stupid." he snaps, cringing internally at how his tone came off. "of course i want you to stay, you're the best thing that happened to me. i won't force you, but—"

"i left some clothes here, right?" you cut him off with a hum, and when kei looks into your eyes, he just knows.

there's still a long, long, long way for the two of you to go. there's still plenty of things he needs to learn. there's a pile of issues in the store room that needed to be tended to.

for every million arguments there are a billion conversations where you two need to sit down and work out the knots. for every insecurity, for every misunderstanding, for every conflict, there is a needed effort to clean up the mess properly instead of just sweeping it under the floorboards. but for every tangle there lies between the two of you, there is a universe of room to grow, and change.

kei knows he's willing to make an effort, for you. kei knows that he's willing to do anything to make sure you don't walk out that door without looking back again. kei knows he's willing to do every single thing he can do (and can't) to make it work.

he knows.

he looks into your eyes, and he smiles.

everything is going to be alright.

haikyuu!! taglist: @ryuiki @hikari-writes @whootwhoot @folkloeren @definitely-yours @rirk-ke @cemeiia @animegirlweeb @mitzwinchester @fandomsgotmefucked

#happy (belated) birthday annoying beanpole #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu!! x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei fluff #tsukishima kei angst #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima x reader fluff #tsukishima kei x reader fluff #tsukishima kei imagines #[ris writes]—✧

[stutterfly]

Swipe Right 04 | Patch Notes | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst, humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 15.1K

Last time on SR03: You joined a gym to increase your confidence and things progressed the way you want with your tinder match. You ended up in an unlikely competition with your friends when you went new bar together, leading to some unexpected conversations and shenanigans.

CW & Other Tags: Drinking, anxiety/panic attack mentions, muscle tearing injury mention, fuckboy Jungkook, pining, flirting, pick-up lines, sexual tension, Joonie is still Y/N’s best boi, soft Jungkook

Series: Activate your SIMCard

Fic: Swipe Right (4/?- Ongoing)

Do not repost.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

When’s the last time you felt as good as you do right now? Jungkook has pretty much stopped bothering you since that night at Seesaw, your date with Jason went well, and you’ve been sticking to your early morning workouts. You definitely don’t push yourself as much as trainer Hwasa, and you know you should really take advantage of the free trial, but it was overwhelming to take in so much at once and the session made you sore all over for days.

At least your stamina seems to be improving and you’ve discovered post-workout endorphins are real. Tonight is your second date with Jason, a date you’ve uncharacteristically elected to host at your apartment. You can place some blame on those endorphins for your boldness, with pining and disappointment composing the rest of it.

While your first date ended without a kiss, there was enough flirting to keep you hopeful. Neither of you were brave enough to do anything about it then, but you’ve mentally coached yourself into pretending like you have an unbreakable spine with nerves of steel. Meeting him only solidified your attraction, and you’ve resolved to take the lead, even though you feel like you have no idea what you’re doing.

It’s not like you often make the first move, but your confidence in him to do so has waned. You’ve been talking and playing games together online for months without any physical touch. Despite how he’s said he likes you and wants to see you again, you’d still be waiting if you didn’t suggest today.

You’re determined to show him what he’s missing by being a recluse. That’s why you’ve picked out the sluttiest clothes and the strappiest heels you own, decorated your face with expensive makeup, and even styled your hair instead of just letting it do whatever it wants for the day. You check yourself out in the full-length mirror on your bedroom door for the millionth time and pull down on the hem of your dress like it will somehow magically grow longer.

You don’t need the heels; no part of the night calls for them. You’re going to be sitting on the couch with him. If you’re lucky you’ll even move it to the bedroom you spent so much time cleaning. But they’re cute and they make you feel sexy, so you’re going to keep them on until he’s peeling you out of your dress.

Nerves bubble in your stomach, but you have to pretend like they’re not there or you’ll fixate on how hard you’re trying to be confident and cool. You’ll fall apart when it’s obvious to Jason how hard you’re pretending to be everything you aren’t. Checking your phone doesn’t help; it’s almost time.

Taking a deep breath, you pace through the confines of your apartment as you wait, and answer group texts from Jennie and Namjoon. You offer up a selfie, hoping any compliments will build your confidence enough to stave off the anxiety in your gut. A few devil emojis later, some keysmashing, and more than a couple hamfisted compliments from Namjoon, your ego is adequately inflated but you can always use more hyping. Maybe you should send it to Jimin to fish for more compliments? He’d indulge you for sure.

Instead you flop on the couch and open Tinder. According to Jennie, Jason is stringing you along; it’s been months, but you hate to admit that she has a point. So you don’t. She’s been telling you for a while now that she thinks you should pursue other suitors. While you object to her assumptions, she has more experience with this kind of stuff. It’s not exactly something you want to believe, not when you’ve put in so much effort for literal months.

You want to believe in Jason being awkward and dorky and that’s why it’s taken so long for the two of you to hook up. He’s shy and super introverted, but so are you. So why are you the only one trying to make things happen? You want to believe, but at this point you’re uncertain enough to heed Jennie’s advice and keep swiping any time you find yourself in a situation where you’re waiting on him. Like now.

You have your reservations about swiping while you wait for your date to begin, but you can practically hear Jennie cheering you on. He’s late anyway, and it will keep you busy until he arrives. You open the discovery tab and swipe left on a couple incomplete profiles. Most of the guys on here don’t put in any effort. How are you supposed to want to give any of them a chance when you don’t even get a tiny snapshot of who they are?

When you pass on yet another fish pic profile, a blue frame appears around the next guy in line. It takes a moment for your brain to register the name along with the duck-faced photo as someone familiar.

[Jungkook said: Your legs remind me of oreos 🥴 wanna know why?]

How fucking dare he? You match with the intent to ream him out and leave.

You: I told you not to fucking find me on here

It takes only a few seconds before you see the dots move on his end, like he was waiting for the moment you would answer, and it keeps you tethered to the conversation.

Jungkook: Princess!! I couldn’t help myself how are you

Jungkook: Surprised you didn’t block me

You: Don’t worry I’m gonna

Jungkook: it’s bc you wanna know huh

You: ???

Jungkook: Your legs

Jungkook: Like oreos

Jungkook: I wanna split them n lick the cream from the center 😜

Electricity rumbles in your gut, carrying heat and a surge of excitement to your cunt that threatens to flood your panties. You swallow hard and squeeze your thighs together as you stare at the screen. Embarrassed by the response his antics elicit, you scramble to formulate a coherent thought.

You: I wish I could unread 🤢

Jungkook: Aw but that’s one of my favorites

Jungkook: Just like you 😘

You: 🙄

You: I hate you so much

Jungkook: So much that you matched with me?

You stare at the message like a clever response will come to you and when it doesn’t you bite your lip. He’s got a point. Haven’t you learned your lesson not to encourage him? Your eyes scan the top of your phone for any notifications from Jason. Nothing. At least this is keeping you distracted. That’s what you tell yourself.

Jungkook: You’re still here which means 👀

You: It means I’m tired

Jungkook: Of?

You pause for a moment. Namjoon and Jennie can’t know how anxious you are about Jason. It’s the guy’s last strike with them and he hasn’t even met them yet. Jungkook, an impartial third party, might be able to lend an ear. As much as you don’t care what he thinks, you need an outlet for the anxiety in your chest. You start to draft a word-vomit. Jason has been so hesitant to see you in person again and now he’s late. Maybe if you just put it out there to someone you’ll feel better.

Jungkook: If you need to sleep how about a massage?

Jungkook: I’m good with my fingers 🥴

Stupid. In what universe could you confide in Jungkook? Deleting your word-vomit before you can send it, you start to type something else, but your thumb accidentally taps enter at the exact wrong moment.

You: You know what? I want you

FUCK. Goddamn you, sausage fingers.

You scramble to rewrite the sentence but Jungkook is quicker. He has to know it was an accident, but you’re still fucking mortified.

Jungkook: 😈

Jungkook: My place

Jungkook: Ten minutes

You: *to stay off my profile

Jungkook: 👉👌?

You: YOU KNOW I DIDN’T MEAN THAT

You: 🤢🤢🤢

Jungkook: 😩

Jungkook: Now you’re just playing games with me princess

Jungkook: Can’t say I mind just fuck me up 🥴

You: Don’t you have a princess to fuck in another castle? Maybe she can stroke your tiny ego

Jungkook: Ouch felt that from here

He goes quiet and you close the conversation out. Setting the phone down on the cushion beside you lasts all of two seconds. When your phone buzzes twice, you know better than to answer, yet you feel compelled to look.

Jungkook: Hey quick question

Jungkook: Is this the most you’ve used the app to talk with someone you like? 👻

Just like that you unmatch with him and take a moment to seethe. Distraction or no, he’s not worth the mental energy. He always seems to draw you in like a pretty little thirst trap and drain you of your sanity. Not engaging is the safest option so why do you always end up doing so? Maybe it’s that shitty little part of you that gets excited any time he shows you attention.

There’s a gullible girl within you; she sets your pulse on fire when he feigns even the slightest interest, fills your head with wind when he brushes against you, and floods your eyes with tears when he walks away. Still, she wants him to look at you, even if it means he’s really looking through you. You hate her. Why can’t she learn that you deserve better?

You check the time again and wince. Jason is really late now. Not even a text. Or a phone call. Maybe it’s traffic?

Try to relax. Nothing bad is going to happen. You’re going to have fun tonight.

You start up a game to take your mind off the options available to explain his absence. When you’re invested in a game you often lose track of time, but tonight you’re hyper-aware of every minute that passes. You bite at your freshly painted nails during loading screens, chipping the red from their edges. Sounding casual is difficult when you’re worried, but you attempt it anyway via text. It’s ten more agonizing minutes of waiting before your phone buzzes with an answer.

The controller drops to your lap and immediately tears begin to sprinkle your thighs with the manifestation of your heartache.

He forgot.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

An earthy scent fills Namjoon’s apartment as he carefully transfers the last of his plants to a bigger pot, filling in the edges of its roots with fresh soil and patting the edges down with care. His plants have needed this, maybe even more than he needs the mini hangout that will soon follow. The kitchen table is covered in dirt, but at least he’s almost done.

It’s not his fault Jungkook showed up earlier than expected. At least he’s quiet now. It’s been a while, but he’s finally stopped asking about how much longer it will take, so he must either be invested in the show he put on or asleep on the couch.

“Almost done,” Namjoon loudly announces. “Can you text Tae?”

“Kay.” Jungkook yawns as he stands and heads towards the bathroom. “Jin was already cooking when I left so it should be ready soon.”

“Good. I’m hungry,” Namjoon says, carefully transporting the plant to the desk in his bedroom.

As he’s on his way to clean up the mess on the table there’s a soft rapid knock at the front door. The moment he opens it and finds you standing before him, he knows something is wrong. Even the ratty hoodie covering your shoulders can’t hide the effort you’ve obviously put into your appearance tonight. While your makeup seems to have fared rather well, your eyes are red and your cheeks are puffy. His mind automatically assumes the worst about your second date and his jaw tightens.

“What happened? Did he hurt you?”

“He never showed.” You throw your arms around him and openly sob.

“Oh, Y/N…” His arms are around you in an instant, hugging you close while keeping his dirty fingers at bay.

You press your cheek against his chest, letting the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry. I know you probably have plans tonight, but I wanted to stop here—” You choke out a loud sob and wipe your nose with your sleeve as you look down at the floor. “I didn’t want to drive upset but you weren’t answering and I just—”

“Shit. Exam today. I left it on silent.” He pats his pocket to make sure it’s still there, wiping as much dirt as he can on his jeans before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. Deep breaths.”

Jungkook emerges from the bathroom quietly with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. Did he hear your voice or is it his imagination? Unsure if you’re some wishful remnant of earlier texts, he peeks around the corner.

Heels: black, strappy heels with a velvety smooth red undersole. Has he ever seen you in heels? If he has, it’s never been something as flashy as these. His gaze travels up the smooth, exposed skin of your legs until it hits the hem of a skirt. The dark fabric seems a little short; it clings to your thighs, riding up as you embrace his friend. It’s hard not to notice how well it accents the curve of your hips and more importantly: your ass. He’s definitely never seen you in something so revealing, not even on nights where you’ve joined them for dancing.

He pauses for a fraction of a second, eyes trained on the swell of your ass before moving up to find the disappointing sight of your favorite hoodie barring much else from view. Namjoon’s arms outline your shape, but the places his hands rest are far too respectable to glean much else other than simple blueprints.

With his dick leading his steps, Jungkook opens his mouth to announce his presence with a joke. He means to selfishly steal a glimpse of your entire ensemble with some snarky comment but you choke out a sob and his stomach lurches to form a whirlpool of apprehension. His mouth remains open, but his words are swallowed back into the dark swirling pit that now wrenches his gut in circles.

Namjoon looks up just in time to read the confusion and shock on his features. He shakes his head and cups yours against his chest, wordlessly signaling Jungkook to keep quiet.

“Is there anything I can do? Do you wanna talk about it?” Namjoon asks, hoping you don’t see the man behind you slowly backing away like he’s just approached a rabid animal.

You’re sobbing. Why are you sobbing? What happened? Was it what he said before you unmatched? Jungkook tiptoes back into the kitchen without a word. He leans against the counter and shoves his hands in his coat pockets, trying to piece everything together. Did he cause this?

You screw your eyes shut to try to keep the tears inside. It’s no use. They always seem to find a way out. “He didn’t show up and when I texted him, he… he said he forgot."

“What?"

“I thought it would be good after the arcade date, you know? Like, good chemistry. He’s weird. I like him! He seemed interested and we made these plans and he just—” you choke out another loud sob. “God. Am I really so fucking forgettable?”

You wanted your friends to be wrong so badly that you ignored the fact that it’s been like pulling teeth trying to get Jason to meet up again. For him to forget completely is like a kick to the face that leaves all the teeth intact, maybe a little bloody, but stubbornly intact.

“Y/N, no. It’s not your fault. You deserve better than this fucking guy.”

Jungkook swallows hard. This definitely doesn’t feel like a conversation he should be hearing, but it’s loud enough to carry through the entire apartment. Kitchen, bedroom, or bathroom: his options are limited, but he knows there’s nowhere to go to pretend like he can’t hear it. It’s not like he can just walk out the front door now.

“Do I? It’s seems like a fucking pattern, Joon. I fall for people so easily and they always make me feel like an idiot for trying. Donghyun. Seojun. Jason. Jungkook… It doesn’t matter. No one fucking wants me.”

Jungkook tenses. He may not know all the names on your list, but his is among them all the same. Has he really hurt you so much?

“Hey… Don’t think like that,” Namjoon says, his voice soft as he rubs your back. “You know your worth, and it’s not measured by how well someone else can see it.”

Every time you think you’re done crying, fresh tears begin to roll down your cheeks. “I’m tired, Joonie.”

“I know. I’m sorry. We'll get you home."

As you step back to look at him your ankle rolls, and you begin to fall. Hearing the scuffle, Jungkook winces and peeks around the corner. Namjoon has a good enough grip to stop you from fully tumbling to the floor, but you’re definitely not stable by any means.

Although you now face Jungkook, you’re too distracted by your ankle to notice the extra pair of eyes on you. He allows himself to stupidly linger within your line of sight, raking his gaze across your form to take in the details of your attire, right down to your choice of earrings. Even with a red nose and puffy, smudged eyes, the time you’ve spent on your appearance remains evident.

You did all that for some guy who didn’t even show? If that’s how you dress for your dates then his innocent perception of you is completely wrong. What kind of moron would pass up the opportunity to peel you out of that dress and dive into your cunt? You look incredible. What the fuck.

"God. Shit. Fuck! Fucking stupid heels!” You huff out your exasperation and let a small pitiful laugh pass your lips as you right your stance with Namjoon’s help. “You know, I spent hours getting ready and now I just look stupid. I feel stupid.”

“You don’t. You’re not,” Namjoon insists, his palm squeezing your shoulder.

“Namjoon, I shaved my entire body. Do you know how long that took?”

Jungkook forces himself to withdraw into the kitchen. If you see him now you might murder him. He purses his lips into a thin line and tightens his grip around his arms. In an instant he imagines hiking your dress above your hips and parting your legs so he might brush his cheek against the smooth expanse of your thigh all the way to your core. Are your panties as slutty as your dress? Are they cute? Lacy? Plain?

“Geeksquad…” Namjoon sighs loudly. “I really don’t need to know— Hold up. Wasn’t this the second date?”

“Are you slutshaming me?” The tired laugh that follows sounds more like you, but it still hurts his heart. “I’m stepping up my game.”

“Nah. You do you,” he says, a soft smile on his lips that’s obviously full of pity. “You want to stay and get some food? I think I have some sweats you can change into.”

Tires screech in Jungkook’s mind. Is he going to be trapped here for the night? Without dinner? What kind of karmic torture is the universe putting him through?

“No, I’m sorry,” you sniffle, wiping your face with the sleeves of your sweater. “Jennie wants me to come over but I—I didn’t think I could make it with having a full meltdown. You were on the way.”

“No need to apologize.” He pulls you into another tight hug. “Do you want me to walk you back to your car?”

“No, no it’s fine. I’m right in front. Thanks, Joonie.” Your phone begins to buzz in your hoodie pocket. You pull back and wave it at him, already on your way to the door. “It’s like she knew. I’ll talk to her on the way. Thank you for listening to me cry for the millionth time.”

“Always. Text me when you get there, okay?”

“Will do, mom,” you tease with a soft laugh.

“Zip up your hoodie.”

You grimace at him with narrowed eyes but heed his advice on your way out. You also pull your skirt down as far down your thighs as it will reach. Men are gross and you trust virtually none of them.

Jungkook waits until he hears the click of the lock on the door to breathe a loud sigh of relief. Namjoon rubs the back of his neck and stares at the door. He worries about you.

“Yikes. That Jason guy is a dick huh?”

Namjoon swivels on his heels and rounds on his friend. “Like you were so much better to her?”

Jungkook casts his gaze to the floor. “I didn’t stand her up.”

Even he knows that argument is flimsy.

“Guk.”

“It was always just a joke.”

“It’s not though. She really liked you, man. I asked you not to mess with her.”

Memories have warped Jungkook into a jaded man: untrusting although not uncaring. Guilt is the only thing churning in his stomach as he thinks of you. He never expected to genuinely hurt you. Somehow things twisted into a gnarled mess that never really felt like more than a playful game of tug-of-war. But these kinds of games only work when the people involved know that they’re playing. It’s shitty when one pulls another into the mud when they’ve never agreed to participate.

Faced with the reality of how you consider him now, it dawns on him that he’s dragged you into the mud face-first without even the slightest resistance. You’ve stood up and you’ve even yanked the rope in retaliation, but you never should’ve been in the mud in the first place. Regardless of his own emotional ineptitude, he knows you never deserved that humiliation. No one does. The weight of his actions sits heavy in his gut.

Still he tries to justify himself. “All I do now is make pass after pass and she’s the one who turns me down.”

“You said it earlier yourself,” Namjoon sneers, irritated by his friend’s immaturity. “It’s always a joke. You’re never serious and she knows it. Look, you don’t have to like her back. She’s my friend and so are you. Just don’t lead her on and stop with the mind games. Be honest with her. The least you can do is apologize for being a dick.”

“That’s— I feel like… I don’t know how.”

Jungkook can’t bring himself to tell him of your conversation earlier tonight. It just adds to the guilt piling on his conscience. Namjoon used his own words against him and the worst part is it makes sense. It’s so much easier when it’s a stranger at a bar or a random encounter at a club, but you’re neither of those things. He lumped you into that category all the same.

Namjoon clicks his tongue and puts an arm around Jungkook’s back. “Starting with ‘I’m sorry’ can go a long way. She’s a good person and I know you guys can get along. Things were going well until you made that bet, right?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. “Mmm.”

“Not every girl is a Jiseo, Jungkook.”

“Yeah.”

“I think…” Namjoon sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know. Can you try to just... tone it down? Maybe try to patch things up?”

“Okay.” Jungkook’s brow furrows and he chews his lip as he mulls over Namjoon’s words. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his keys. “You ready?”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Your head dips forward as your fingers glide across the keys. It's hard to concentrate on your task when you're this distracted by your own thoughts. You stare at the monitor with furrowed brows. Namjoon grabs the back of your chair and leans forward to tower over you.

"Went that well, huh? Did he blow the second chance he didn’t deserve?"

The motion jerks you backwards and you grip the armrests of the chair to steady yourself. Despite your best attempt to curb the irritation in your expression, your frustration remains apparent. You sit back and tilt your head up to look at him, trying to think of something to say, some excuse to not reinforce the "told you so" waiting in your future, not after you showed up at his apartment sounding like a dying whale a few days before. When no ideas come to your immediate aid, you click your tongue and let out a heavy sigh as you turn your attention back to the screen.

"Geeksquad," he presses. "Talk to me."

You exhale through your nose and briefly purse your lips before obliging his plea. The words are quick and quiet so you don't run the risk of bawling your eyes out again. "He canceled.”

Namjoon steps back and the pressure on your seat is gone. He places a large palm on your shoulder. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

Despite wanting to give the opposite answer, you shake your head. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you'd like to tell him. He's clever and you know he'll likely find a way to get it out of you with minimal effort anyway. Still, you don’t think you can manage the words without crying like a baby and you don’t want to do that when the morning has only just begun. Silence falls between the two of you as he gives you time to decide if you want to open up.

After a moment of tapping away you finally give in. You know you’ll feel better after you cry.

"He said he had to stay behind and help do clean-up for the party he was at. And that’s nice and all, but we had plans. I feel crazy. I should be glad that he’s so kind, right? Like that shows he’s a good person, right?” Your voice has cracked but it hasn’t quite broken.

He sighs and flops in the chair on the other side of his desk. “Y/N… I think you’re asking me for answers you already know.”

“But tell me anyway,” you press, tears welling in your eyes. “Our first date went so well. So why-y-” Your voice breaks.

“Hey.” He reaches across the desk and brushes his fingers against your arm. “I know you want me to help you make excuses for him... But you deserve someone who values your time. Clearly he’s just looking to waste it.”

“But—”

“Y/N, you don’t need someone like that. If this is what he’s like before you’re even together, then what kind of effort is he really going to put into a potential relationship? Not enough. There are so many people out there, people that would trip over themselves just to have the chance to be with you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think it’s a mistake that you even gave him another shot. He blew it. Twice. Delete his number. Forget him.”

“I know,” you croak. Tears fall from your eyes and you quickly swipe them away, focusing on the task at hand.

Namjoon is right and you know it, but you’re kind of irritated about it. You know it’s not really him you’re mad at, but Namjoon is a good enough placeholder while you try to sort through your hurt feelings.

You muster your most monotone voice as you stand. “I updated your drivers and deleted any cached files that might have been causing issues. Is that all?”

“Don’t be mad at me,” he pleads, rising to block your path as you step towards the door. “You have a big heart and I hate seeing it stepped on.”

In a matter of seconds you melt into his embrace and bury your face into his shirt. “I hate how fast I like people.”

“I know.” He pets the back of your head softly and squishes you against his chest. “It’s gonna be okay. How about udon later? My treat?”

“With beef?” you ask with a sniffle.

“With beef,” he agrees.

“Gyoza?”

“Mhm.”

“And takoyaki?”

“...You’re pushing it.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You slide the appetizer tray across the table towards Namjoon. “Here.”

He shovels a dumping into his mouth right before he speaks. “I could eat this every day for the rest of my life.”

“Could you afford it though?” you tease, taking a sip from the bottle of saké and crinkling your nose at it before passing it to him.

“Not if you’re joining me,” he snorts. “You’re supposed to pour it.”

“No, thanks.” You push the tiny glass full of liquid back towards him.

"Wow. Are you guys on a date?"

You know the source of the voice before you even crane your neck to see Jungkook.

"Pfft." Namjoon waves the question off with a deep laugh.

Despite finding the scenario of ever dating Namjoon absolutely absurd, you can’t help but feel a little insulted by the volume of his laughter. Namjoon’s hangout night was supposed to take your mind off of how unwanted Jason made you feel. Instead, the pit of insecurity within your stomach grows into a thick, tangled brush of hostility. Is being seen with you really so laughable?

“Why would we be?” you snap, turning your attention back to your bowl.

Heat settles in your face and you purse your lips, not daring to look at either of them. You try to wrangle some noodles to shovel in your mouth before you can say something stupid. Their eyes are on you. Jungkook is definitely confused but not alarmed by your hostility. It’s something he’s grown accustomed to. But Namjoon knows when he hurts your feelings, every time, and it’s easy enough to disarm your irritability.

“She’s way too good for a mess like me,” Namjoon says with a light laugh.

“Why are you here?” you ask, tone already softer than before.

"Post-work snackie," he answers, all too cheery for your sour mood. “Came for the noods. Mind if I join?”

He looks to the rosy-cheeked Namjoon for his answer, as you set your hoodie and purse down in the space beside you to give him yours. Namjoon betrays you by scooting over to make room on his side of the booth. You’d mentioned to him before that you’d eventually like to fix things with Jungkook, to somehow make steps for peace. But you only have so much mental energy left to give today.

“Not tonight, Jungkook,” you plead with a sigh.

The frustration in that puff of breath is enough to make Jungkook hesitate. He blinks a few times, wide-eyed. “What?”

“I just… can’t handle your bullshit tonight.”

Jungkook tries to break the uncomfortable tension with a grin. “No bullshit tonight. Promise.”

“No.” Your answer is firm and somehow so fragile that it makes both men worry their brows in the same fashion. “Please, just go away.”

He shoves his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and takes a few steps back. He doesn’t know what to make of your demeanor, but he can put enough together to know the basics. You’re upset, maybe not at him for once. However unlikely, that’d be a blessing. Maybe you’re still upset about that guy that stood you up a few days ago. If that’s the case, he probably shouldn’t stick around and risk letting on how much he knows about that.

He tongues the side of his cheek and nods, forcing a smile to his face. “Alright. I’ll just order it to go. Planned on that anyway. Catch you later.”

Guilt wracks your nerves as he walks away. The moment you look back at Namjoon, you’re faced with a wall of disappointment that threatens to topple the scale of decision-making in Jungkook’s favor.

“You’re judging me for that,” you mumble. The noodles between your chopsticks slip back into the broth.

“Little bit,” Namjoon admits, watching his friend sulk over to the entrance waitstaff. “You know he told me he’s trying to be nicer to you.”

“What? When?”

“The other day. We hung out.”

He keeps his answers short and ambiguous, hoping your curiosity has been piqued. Maybe this is the golden opportunity he’s been hoping for to patch your friendship.

“Was this before or after he harassed me on Tinder?”

Namjoon’s heart sinks into his butt. Of course Jungkook would make reconciliation harder than it needs to be. “When did he do that?”

“That night I showed up at your apartment like a big crybaby.”

“I went over his place for dinner after you left. Jin wanted to try a new recipe out on us.” That seems to at least make you pause.

“You guys talked about me?”

“Yup.” He goes back to chewing his food, knowing he’s got you hooked.

Your incredulous stare does nothing to pull information past his lips. “Joonie. What did you say about me? What did he say?”

“Mmm?” He slurps up a long noodle. “A lot of things. But they’re not really my words to tell.”

“No one likes clickbait, Joon.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that he told me that he wants to fix things. If you want specifics, maybe we can invite him to come eat with us. It might be easier for the both of you to talk about it over good food.”

You sigh, seriously considering his words even as you shake your head. “Joon, I’m already emotionally compromised. I really don’t want to cry in front of Jungkook tonight.”

“Why would you cry? This is a night for good things only. Namjoon-approved and protected. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to... I just thought it might be nice to make some good memories with good friends.”

You roll your eyes but hold your pinky out for him. “Fine. But this is Joonie-Y/N time. You’re cutting into that allotted time slot, you know that right?”

Namjoon rests his elbow on the table, preparing to pinky swear to whatever you’re about to suggest. “Conditions?”

“He sits next to you, he doesn’t make fun of me if I cry, and…. he doesn’t get to talk.”

“Y/N.”

“Fiiiiine. He can talk. But he better be as nice as you say he’s trying to be.”

“We allowed to talk about Jason?”

“If it comes up…” you sigh. “You know, if he’s mean to me and I cry then you have to deal with it.”

He clasps his long pinky around yours. “Deal. But with how all that just went down, you gotta go tell him to come back. He won’t believe me if I do it.”

“Don’t let him be mean to me,” you plead, tightening your grip on his pinky and locking eyes with him. “Good vibes only.”

“He won’t be mean. Good vibes only.” Namjoon nods with a soft smile. “He really is a good person where it counts, Y/N.”

You push your things aside and force yourself to find Jungkook. He’s leaning against a wall near the entrance, scrolling through his phone while he waits for his order. You quietly request to your waitress that you’d like his food brought to your table. She’s nice enough about it, but your stomach churns regardless. It’s the anxiety.

You gingerly poke a finger against his shoulder as you approach. “Um. Hey.”

He seems startled at first, but smiles when he realizes it’s you. “Hmm?”

You take a deep quiet inhale, trying your best not to get lost in the butterflies his charming smile conjures in your gut. You try to tell yourself it’s anxiety and nothing more. Apologies are hard and scary. That’s all.

“I’m… sorry for being rude. I’ve had a rough week but I shouldn’t take it out on you. Come eat with us, please. Namjoon’s buying anyway.”

His eyes seem to light up with surprise and a warm smile deepens the creases around his eyes and mouth. The hope that these feelings of attraction would evaporate with time is a flame swiftly snuffed out and replaced with a burning heartache that deems denial useless. Even now, pangs of infatuation lurk below your feelings of disdain, breaking the tension of its surface with each beat of your heart.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I shouldn’t have invited myself when I saw you guys. I should really get home and shower anyway.”

He looks so clean that you’d assumed he’d already showered. It’s not like you can smell him from where you stand. Maybe he’s lying, but at least you get the sense it’s coming from a place of politeness.

“Jungkook, I want you to come eat with us. Besides Namjoon wants someone to drink saké with him and I cannot keep doing it.”

“I see.” He offers a small laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “Are you sure? You seemed pretty against it before. What changed?”

“Namjoon told me you’re trying to be less of an asshole to me.”

“Did he?” he licks his lips and tries to hide his pleased smile. “I’m surprised you believe him.”

“He also promised me I could punch you in the dick if you make me cry,” you lie, completely stone-faced.

If he knows that’s a falsified statement, he doesn’t say anything. He looks past your shoulder to quirk a brow at Namjoon, who appears to be furiously texting at the table. Jungkook’s phone buzzes a few times against his palm and he’s fairly sure he already knows who it is.

“Come on. I already asked them to bring your food to the table.”

He reads Namjoon’s messages as he trails behind you.

NAMJOON: If you seriously want to apologize stick around, make her laugh, just listen when you need to

JUNGKOOK: Don’t worry

JUNGKOOK: I got u

Before Namjoon can send a text saying that Jungkook's response has the opposite effect, you’re peeking across the table, trying to get a glance at the screen.

“Who’s that?” you wonder. Namjoon’s not usually one to be so secretive with his texts.

“Hmm?” he raises his eyebrows at you and pours you a shot. “Stupid. Don’t worry about it.”

“Ha. Haha. Ha.” You gesture at your face. “You say to the girl with anxiety.”

Crinkling your nose at the glass he offers, you slide it across to Jungkook as he settles in next to Namjoon. “Here. I’m done drinking that stuff tonight.”

He regards it with a quirked brow. Something about your demeanor really has changed, but looking between you and Namjoon does nothing to answer the question of what that may be.

“Okay, so on reddit this guy was reaching. He’s going on about the symbolism in the red scarf—”

Your eyes gloss over the moment he mentions reddit. Is there anything you care less about than Joon’s favorite modern literary discussion threads?

“Got it. Not worrying about it,” you interrupt, bringing your bowl to your lips to slurp some of the broth.

Jungkook hides his smirk by throwing his head back to drink his shot. Namjoon is a genius. It might be scary if he ever decided to use his intellect for nefarious purposes. Lucky for the universe he uses it to protect others, like a real superhero would.

As the three of you dine together, you’re surprised to find that Jungkook isn’t being as annoying as he usually is. In fact, it seems the more he drinks outside of any competitive setting, the more affable he becomes. Maybe there’s something to Namjoon’s clickbaity words. He’s almost the person you remember meeting before the Halloween Party, maybe even more pleasant.

You’re grateful when the two of them start telling embarrassing stories so you can listen and laugh at the way they slur their words and interrupt each other. Laughter makes your heart feel light and full, and brave enough to take the last step to prove to yourself you’re done chasing Jason. As the two men fight over the last piece of gyoza and distract themselves over dessert, you quietly decide to clear your text messages from Jason. Your finger hovers over the delete icon for a second before purging his contact information from your device entirely.

It’s freeing to not have to worry about what you should send him. It’s frustrating to have tried so hard for so long and have nothing to show for it, but at least there will be no conversation history to pick apart anymore. It should feel perfect. That will definitely show him, right? You don’t have to reflect for more than a couple seconds to reinforce the memory of how little he actually reached out on his own.

He still has your number. The only time he ever called was on your first date. He never texted you unless you spoke first. He probably won’t even notice you’re gone. He’s probably relieved he won’t have to answer you anymore. He probably thinks you’re desperate for trying for so long. You don’t realize how well you wear your anxiety.

When you look up Jungkook is watching you while he chews with his mouth wide open. “Hey, why do-” He hiccups and swallows. “Why do you look so sad? You should have some ice cream.”

He scans the table for something to offer you, but he can’t seem to find what he’s looking for in his drunken stupor. After a few seconds his eyes finally land on his own plate where the other half of his red-bean cake sits.

“Do you want my taiyaki?” He holds the tail end of the fish-shaped cake out to you. “It’s really good!”

You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected sweet absurdity of the night. “Jungkook, I don’t want your half-eaten cake.”

He frowns and looks at the pastry. “Is it because I bit it? I’ll break off that part for you if you don’t want your mouth to touch that.”

Although Jungkook definitely is more drunk than Namjoon right now, the older man can’t help but be amazed by how well this is going. He loads up on green tea ice cream and digs his spoon in it. He shouldn’t have been so worried. Jungkook can put away the act when he wants to, especially once alcohol is involved and there’s nothing to prove. You guys are actually getting along. What a relief.

“No, really it’s okay.” You laugh.

Jungkook is already breaking the pastry apart in his hand, watching as it crumbles to pieces on his plate. He blinks a couple times and closes his mouth in a frown.

“I thought that would work.” He sounds utterly defeated.

The waitress walks over just in time to watch Namjoon stick a heaping spoonful of wasabi in his mouth. You're too busy laughing at Jungkook's forlorn expression to notice the way Namjoon's eyes water. His eyes drop to the ice cream he thought he shoveled into his mouth. Right next to the pristine, untouched scoop of green tea ice cream, he finds his spoon resting in the hunk of wasabi adjacent to it. He should really pay attention more. He pushes against Jungkook's side and motions that he needs to get up. The younger man spares a glance his way but Namjoon waves him off while mumbling something about the bathroom.

The waitress tries to keep her composure and looks between the pair of you. "How is everything?"

"Great! Could you please bring us some water?" you ask in your sweetest voice, realizing the two men with you should at least try to start sobering up.

You expected to have Namjoon crashing on your couch on a Friday night, or at least be dropping him off down the hall at Hobi’s place. Jungkook was not part of the plan, but you can’t exactly let him drive home inebriated. You know he’s not your responsibility but you’d feel guilty making him call for a ride home when you’re perfectly capable.

Although you hate to admit it, you’ve had fun tonight. If you’re being honest with yourself you’d like to see what he’s like without Namjoon nearby to police his moves. He’s been nice enough, but you want to know for sure this isn’t an act. You want to ask him if he’s made another bet, or playing some game since he hasn’t hit on you all night. Before you can get your line of questions in order, Jungkook turns to the server with large, pleading eyes.

"Oh! Can you bring some more dessert, please?"

He may be a grown ass man capable of charming the pants off of women everywhere, but right now he is little more than a child begging for seconds. Regardless of everything he's done, your heart softens, endeared and embarrassed by his drunken request to your server.

The waitress nods. "Sure, what would you like?"

His eyes fall to you for an answer. "What do you like?"

You blink at him. "Me? I thought this was for you."

He nods. "Mm. We can split it."

"Um, how about... tempura?"

"Banana?"

Jungkook’s voice is full of anticipation and his upturned eyebrows seem to bargain for agreement. It’s so hard to believe this is the same man who has been so cold to you for so long when he seems so open and warm now. You remind yourself it’s probably the alcohol. It’s probably some secret promise to Namjoon. Some bet with Hobi. Some game he’s playing. It’s probably anything other than what your dumb crush-stupefied heart wants it to be.

The waitress looks to you for approval and you give a nod. "Sure. Banana tempura."

The waitress awkwardly smiles as she gathers the empty platters and gives you a chance to break away from his endearingly drunken face. He smiles across the table at you and wrings his hands while you pick up your phone to check on those nonexistent messages. Maybe if you distract yourself enough you can ignore the feelings that are catching up to you tonight.

“Thank you for inviting me back over,” he says, reaching to the nearly empty bottle of saké to pour himself another shot. “I’ve... been wanting to talk to you."

"I’m surprised you didn’t blow up my phone.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but there’s a harshness in your tone that exposes a venomous bite beneath it.

He downs the shot and plants his elbows on the table, leaning forward on them. "I wanted to say it to your face."

“Oh, really?”

You don’t allow yourself to entertain the idea that he’s about to say anything groundbreaking, but you look away from your phone to meet those dark, twinkling eyes. Suddenly there’s hope in your gut. You’re desperate to put some distance between the feelings jumping to the surface.

“I’ve been a dick.”

“No shit.”

Though the fog of alcohol consumes his apology, his eyes focus on you with clarity. “I’m sorry.”

How long have you waited to hear those words? You never really thought about what you might say in response. His apology sits in the air between you for a moment before he speaks again.

“I’m really sorry. Namjoon is right. I am trying to be less of an asshole to you. We don’t…” he catches himself, “I don’t have a lot of close friends who are women.”

“You don’t say.”

That seems to cut through the fog. He hangs his head and focuses his gaze on the table.

“I never wanted to hurt your feelings.”

“Well, you did,” you mumble.

“I know... I’m sorry.” It’s like now that he’s said it once, he can’t stop saying it. He’s not sure how to make you understand. Maybe you do understand and you just won’t forgive him. Can he really blame you for that?

“Why?” you question; it’s the last barrier protecting your heart, the only thing keeping you from caving. “Why do you care now?”

Jungkook’s head lolls to one side as he sits back against his seat and stares at the nearly empty bottle of saké. “I don’t know. I guess I was thinking… I wish I had a save to reload. Before I messed up.”

It seems that’s the best you’re going to get out of him right now. The waitress sets down a beautiful platter of banana tempura meticulously arranged around a simple mound of ice cream, topped with a single cherry and drizzled with decorative chocolate. She places three waters on the table and you both take a moment to politely force smiles and pause your conversation.

He licks his lips and stares down at the plate and then back up at you. “Can we start over?”

“Depends. Are you gonna go back to being a dick when you’re not drunk anymore?”

“No, no. I mean it. I wanna try to be friends.”

“For real?” You swipe the cherry, pop it in your mouth and tilt your head to regard him. You can’t let yourself fully believe him. You want to. The earnestness in his drunken features charms you, but you hold onto a shred of disbelief as a crutch. You’ll wait for the moment he reverts. Hopefully this time you’ll be prepared for the whiplash that comes along with it.

“For real.”

You reflect on his apology as the pair of you dig into the dessert. “Maybe. Prove it.”

He perks up. He’ll take a maybe. Maybe means the damage he’s done might not be irreparable. The guilt weighing on his conscience feels lighter. It’s a start.

“I will. I’ll find some way to make it up to you.”

You roll your eyes, unwilling to put stock in his words. “Is this another bet with Hobi? About how quickly you can make me forgive you?”

Jungkook shakes his head furiously, wisps of wild black hair whipping his cheeks. “No, I mean it. I promise.”

You drag your lip through your teeth as you teeter on the line of acceptance. “What is a promise from a liar worth?”

He drops the flat of his palm to the table and he pouts. “Hey. I mean it…. Hm. If I break my promise…” His eyes scan the table for anything he can use to change your mind. He looks at his arm pressed against the table and then back at you. “You can choose my next tattoo.”

Your eyebrows rise into your hairline. “Really.”

He eagerly nods. “I’ll get whatever you want wherever you want. Just. Not my face.”

“I want that in writing,” you snort.

Jungkook glances around the table and pulls a napkin from under the plate of tempura. “Do you have a pen?”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”

“I’m serious.” He’s not taking no for an answer.

You shake your head and rummage through your purse to supply him with a pen. He smooths out the napkin he’s chosen to use as a conduit for his promise. When he’s finished writing he slides it towards you.

Princess

I’m sorry. I can make it right.

I promise. Please give me another chance.

If I blow it you can choose what & where my next tattoo goes.

As long as it’s not my face. Let’s be friends? #promise.com ♡ Jungkook

Of course he signed it with a heart. Despite his inebriation, his handwriting is still neat. Well, that’s one hell of a promise.

“Okay.” You fold the note and drop it into your purse. “We can try.”

His face lights up as he stuffs a piece of tempura into his mouth, happily chomping with his mouth wide open. He reaches for the saké but you slide a water in front of him instead.

“Friends don’t let friends get totally shitfaced at Hajime.”

He frowns at you but seems to accept your answer with a pout.

“Speaking of which… Where is Namjoon?” You crane your neck to look around the restaurant.

“Friday noodle nights common for you guys?” Jungkook asks, digging into the dessert between massive gulps of water.

“No, not really. We’re usually watching movies at my place or hanging with Hobi. But Namjoon wanted to take me out because I was sad,” you say, finally catching sight of your friend on the other side of the bar.

Jungkook’s chewing slows and he regards you with furrowed brows. “Sad?”

Before you can decide how you want to answer, Namjoon is scooting into the booth next to Jungkook and reaching for a piece of tempura. “Mmmm. What did I miss?”

“Y/N was telling me why she’s sad.”

Namjoon nods like he understands exactly what you’ve been talking about. “He’s a dick, right? Like how do you even stand someone up, not once, but twice? Makes no sense.”

“Joonie—”

“And I know what you’re gonna say, but I disagree. It has nothing to do with you or how you look, Y/N. You don’t need to workout like a maniac to try to change anything. Especially not for someone like Jason. I can’t even imagine—”

“Joon.” You click your tongue and slide a glass of water in front of him. “Please, shut the fuck up.”

As you glare at him, he looks at you with raised brows and wide eyes. Unsure what to do now that he’s obviously fubared the conversation, he casts his guilty gaze to his cup and brings it to his lips.

Jungkook stares at you with furrowed brows, trying to wait to let you fill in the blanks even though he’s itching to ask about everything. He picks another piece of tempura and stuffs it into his mouth, but when you remain silent the impulse to pry takes over. “Jason?”

“He stood me up…” you start, but you close your mouth when you realize you’re going to try to defend him. Your throat feels full, like you can’t get enough air through with a giant knot in it like this. You have to whisper so your voice doesn’t crack. “Twice.”

The couple drinking at the table nearby becomes a much more interesting place to rest your eyes than the two men across from you. Tightening your jaw doesn’t prevent the gloss from coating your eyes. Thinking about it makes you feel so stupid and desperate. Bending over backwards a thousand different ways to accommodate him couldn’t convince him to put in even a minimal amount of effort one time.

Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise. “Twice?”

The hurt you feel in your chest scorches your cheeks until anger is filling your head like a teakettle ready to release an unhealthy amount of steam right in Jungkook’s face.

“That’s what I get for giving people second chances,” you snap as you focus back on him.

Joon says your name like it’s a warning but you don’t need it. You feel guilty enough for projecting your anger onto Jungkook with a petty one-liner.

“Sorry. It’s not your fault. I just…” Your throat closes around the rest of the words.

Before an uncomfortable silence can settle over the table, Namjoon inches the bottle of saké with his fingertips until it’s in front of him. “Dating is tricky. Jason sucks. It sucks that he hurt you. But you don’t have to twist yourself into whatever you think he wants anymore. And that…” He pours the pitiful remainder of alcohol into a shot glass and slides it towards you.“...is worth celebrating.”

Jungkook silently nods his head in agreement. It’s obvious you’re on the verge of tears and he doesn’t want to be the thing that pushes you over the edge.

A soft smile curls the corners of your mouth. “That’s true, but…” you slide the glass back towards him and steal the last of the banana tempura. “I can celebrate back at my apartment. Finish your water so you’ll be awake enough to join me. Both of you.”

Jungkook perks up and happily reaches for his water while Namjoon gives you a proud, yet confused look. It seems like a new start to something. What that is remains to be seen.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook watches intently as the colors of the city shine through the windows. He runs his fingers over the soft blanket you keep in the backseat, mouthing the words to the song softly playing from your dashboard. Namjoon has been talking nonstop from the passenger seat, which is fine with Jungkook since he’s feeling a little tired. The last session of the day was a bit more intense than intended, but the client left happy and covered in sweat. A success. But Jungkook is sore and exhausted. Physically and socially.

A sense of relief floods him at the memory of his conversation with you. Things may actually be okay from here. Who would have thought crashing your noodle night with Namjoon could have yielded such results?

His head bobs to the music as his eyes wander across the scenery outside until he grows bored and they drift to the interior of your car. A graduation tassel swings from your rearview mirror as you turn. He follows the movement of the tassel when it swings towards you and his eyes land on your face, or at least what he can see of it from this angle.

You look focused and calm while conversing with Namjoon but your posture is a bit rigid and your hands remain planted on the steering wheel in complete control. There’s something about this candid snapshot of your persona that puts him at ease. Your voice is a soft contrast to Namjoon’s, but equally enthusiastic.

He tilts his head as he leans back in his seat, pulling the blanket over his lap and twisting the fabric around his palm. Your eyes flicker in the rearview mirror, catching his. He gives a tiny wave and rests his head against the cushion, fighting the temptation to close his eyelids for longer than a second. The more he listens to you laugh, the more he finds himself smiling. It’s goofy.

It’s also kind of cute.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook is surprised when Yoongi answers your knock; he thought he would be asleep. He’s even more surprised when you make yourself at home on his couch and guilt him with a puppy dog pout to make you a drink, and he complies. When Jungkook asks the same, Yoongi tells him there’s beer in the fridge while measuring out the ingredients for your cocktail. The suspicious sour ache of jealousy stabs his gut as he moseys to the fridge but he quickly shakes it off, settling on the floor in front of the tv with a beer in hand.

After a couple hours of drinking, laughing, and playing Jackbox games with the three men, you’re feeling much better about everything. Life is good. Friends are good. Alcohol is very good.

It doesn’t take much to get you drunk. You’re about as much of a lightweight as Hobi and for better or worse everyone has come to know that fact. What’s nice about drinking in Yoongi’s apartment is that you don’t have to walk very far to get home. Things don’t get awkward with the three of them together; it’s actually kind of nice, like a mini Saturday night pregame.

Soon Namjoon and Yoongi are snoring on the couch with a movie playing in the background while you stand in the kitchen with Jungkook. He pours another drink for himself, though he knows it will mostly likely remain unfinished. Tomorrow may bring a massive hangover, but tonight has been surprisingly pleasant. He feels like he’s finally on okay footing with you, maybe even on the road to serious repair. Amazing how well you get along when inhibitions are replaced by inebriation. If that’s what it takes, he’s determined to keep it up.

As he turns his back to place the liquor bottle in the cabinet by the fridge, you swipe a sip of the drink he’s concocted. He spins around in time to see you wrinkle your nose and stick your tongue out.

“Hey, that’s mine!” he pouts.

“Blegh. You can have it. Yuck!” Your face screws up again at the aftertaste.

He drunkenly giggles as he slides the drink closer to him. “What, don’t like sour?”

“Too sour!” You reach for the water bottle Yoongi gave you hours ago and attempt to rinse the puckering sensation from your mouth.

Amused, he tilts his head and watches you take gulp after gulp. He purses his lips and holds back the comment itching to escape, deciding to enjoy a sip of his drink instead. You shimmy out of your hoodie and tie it around your waist and his eyes lazily follow the motion of your arms, noting a slight difference in their musculature. Some errant thought about their shape leads him back to an earlier unaddressed comment that he’s finally comfortable enough to prod you about.

“What kind of workouts are you doing?” he blurts.

Suddenly you feel very exposed. You straighten in your seat and suck in your gut, hyper aware of every imperfection of your body on display to someone so in shape. You immediately begin to fidget with the sleeves of the hoodie you just tied around your waist.

“You don’t have to tell me. I just—” he pauses, exhaling a small breath and looking down at his drink as though he’s wary of continuing the thought.

“No, no it’s fine,” you assure him, too curious to say otherwise. “What is it?”

“When Namjoon said…” he sighs and takes a sip, smacking his lips and licking them before looking back to you. “I thought maybe I can prove myself to you by helping you come up with a plan.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You plant an elbow on the counter and lean on it.

“I want to,” he insists, reaching out for your arm.

His hand is like fire engulfing your skin and your eyelids flutter at the sensation. Instinctively you place a hand over his and rub your thumb anxiously over it. He looks down to where your thumb grazes his knuckles and then back up to your face with a surprised smile.

“Um… Everything,” you say, trying to sound as vague and nonchalant as possible so he doesn’t judge you for your lack of knowledge.

“Like, full body?”

“Uh...” You’ve managed to make a habit of going to his gym a few days a week while successfully avoiding him, but it seems that time is coming to an end. “I… machine.”

“Oh. Like at a gym? Did you join one?” He seems genuinely curious.

“Um, yeah.” Suddenly you pull your hand back when you realize the speed at which your thumb is moving.

“Which one?”

The more you say, the more suspicious you seem, but is saying less any better? Jungkook rests his elbow on the counter and simply looks at you but you don’t look back. A slow smile spreads his lips as the possibility dawns on him.

“Princess… Did you join Iron Kingdom?”

You puff your cheeks and force the air through the tiny opening of your mouth. You don’t offer any sort of confirmation and continue to avoid his gaze.

“And you didn’t tell me?” he playfully prods, drumming his fingers against your forearm.

“I… Yeah,” you admit, your voice small as you stare at the counter. “I didn’t want you to know.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“I don’t want to give you another thing to make fun of me for.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” When you don’t respond he tugs on your arm. The motion is enough to angle you towards him. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey.”

“What?” you grumble, staring at your lap even as you face him.

He takes your hands in his and drunkenly waves them around. “Heeeeeeeey. Look at me.”

He pouts until you reluctantly drag your eyes to meet his. “What?”

“Everyone starts somewhere,” he says softly. “Even me.”

The shift in his demeanor catches you off guard and you subconsciously lean forward as you relax. “Well I started with Hwasa, but I was too sore to ask for another session with her.”

He nods sympathetically, clapping his hand over yours. “You should try again.”

You shake your head. “I don’t know. I feel like…”

“Like?” he prods when you let the silence trail for a bit too long.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you sigh. “I feel like I don’t belong there. I look so stupid reading the instructions on the machines. I don’t even think I’m doing it right.”

“What?” He makes a sound between a laugh and a grunt. “There’s nothing wrong with making sure you don’t hurt yourself. Nobody knows how to instantly do things. If they tell you they do, they’re lying.”

“Or they’re Namjoon,” you say with a roll of your eyes, glancing over at your snoring friend.

He smiles and clicks his tongue against his teeth in thought. “I didn’t know what I was doing when I started.”

“Really.”

You’re skeptical. It’s always seemed like he was born in a gym. Or maybe hatched. He’s kind of inhumanly gorgeous. Maybe he sprouted from a flower like a mythical god.

“For real. First time doing squats. I think it was gym class? Yeah, I was like twelve or thirteen. I was… not very athletic. Didn’t play sports or anything. Kind of shy. Didn’t really have a lot of friends either…”

The way he trails off makes your heart hurt. Puberty isn’t nice to most people. It’s hard to imagine a world where someone like Jungkook isn’t instantly popular and naturally fit. While you’re not exactly the same person you were at twelve, a lot of your interests and personality quirks have remained the same. You’re still painfully awkward at times. How did he manage to overcome something like that? Is it not ingrained in him like it is you?

“Just a big dork, you know?” He laughs. “I see this girl I had a crush on, Amber. She’s looking at me. I think I have to impress her. So I’m stacking up weight and I think I’m hot shit and go too fast. Know what happened?”

“Please don’t tell me you dropped it on your foot or something,” you plead, squeezing his palms at the way he’s building up the story. The secondhand embarrassment is too real.

“I hear a pop.”

“No!” you gasp, bringing your hands to your face as if you can stop the past from happening.

“And pain. So much pain. I don’t remember putting the weights down but I remember ending up on my back, staring up at the ceiling.”

“Oh no. Knees?”

“Worse.” He points down to his crotch. “Pulled a muscle in my groin. Had to sit the rest of the day with an ice pack on my junk. Was not fun. My point is: don’t give up. You learn more as you go. Give Hwasa another shot.”

His anecdote gives you pause but you’re desperate to cling to the comfort of your anxiety. “My free trial with her is almost up and I don’t think I’ll be able to afford to keep at it.”

“More excuses,” he teases, taking a sip of his drink. “At this point I should just—” His eyes widen, a lightbulb practically forming above his head as he puts his cup down. “I’ll be your personal trainer!”

“Uhh…”

“No, no. It’s perfect. We’re friends now.” He smiles, proud of himself for finding a way to prove himself to you. “I can teach you everything you need to know about working out. I can set up a plan for you and figure out the best way to help you achieve your goals. Oh, man we’re gonna have to figure out your goals. What do you—”

“Hold on. Hold on,” you interrupt with a nervous laugh. “You’re missing the part where I still can’t afford it.”

He rolls his eyes and grabs your glass, holding it under the sink to refill it. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll cover it.”

You’re stunned into silence as you observe the expanse of his back, searching the black fabric of his t-shirt for the definition of his muscles. He sets the cup in front of you, waiting for your agreement. When it doesn’t come, he second guesses himself. Did he overstep?

“I mean if you’re okay with that. Would-would you want to do that?”

The innocent drunken sparkle in his eyes makes your stomach do a flip. When you woke up this morning you hardly thought the day would include getting sloshed with Jungkook and having him offer to take you on as a fitness trainee. It’s like he’s opened himself up just enough for you to see the soft mess beneath. You like it. You like it a lot and you kind of hate yourself for it. While you don’t know if you can trust him past the evening, you find yourself hoping you can.

“You won’t make fun of me?” you ask timidly before bringing the cup of water to your lips.

“It’s my job not to make fun of you. We start where you’re at and go from there. And like I said, I’ll cover the fees for as long as you want. No pressure.” He smiles at you. “What do you think?”

“...Okay,” you murmur with a nod of your head. “If you’re serious, then I’m… I’m in!”

His lips part to expose his teeth as his grin spreads. “Yes!”

As he brings his hand up in a sign of victory, his knuckles knock against his glass. You reach for the cup with impaired reflexes, hands fumbling over the slippery surface in conjunction with his. The sour contents spill across the counter as the pair of you struggle to right the glass. While he’s quicker at getting the glass upright, your brain is faster at processing what to do next and you already have a paper towel in hand, wiping up the liquid as fast as possible.

Your eyes follow the spill to the edge of the counter where it’s flooded over the side. Acting on instinct rather than rational thought, you quickly press down where the liquid has begun to pool in his lap. As you fold the paper towel over, you rub frantically as if the action will keep the stain from setting into the fabric. He shifts in his seat and squeaks out a sound so small that you can’t actually tell whether it came from him or the chair.

It only dawns on you how inappropriate your actions are when you glance towards his face and find his wide eyes gazing back at you. His cheeks, already flushed from inebriation, seem twice as vivid and his mouth is parted slightly as though he means to speak, but he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t want to embarrass you, but it’s too late for that.

Your palm stills against his crotch as the shape beneath becomes clear in your mind. For a second you’re frozen, but your lips work quickly to mumble an apology. It feels like an eternity before you will your drunken fingers to release the paper towel. The clearing of Jungkook’s throat is followed by a tiny giggle, then a full on snort. A grin spreads across your lips and you soon follow him into a fit of laughter. You thank the universe for the small mercy of being drunk enough to push your embarrassment to the side for the time being.

“I wasn’t thinking!” you wheeze, tears in your eyes from laughing so hard. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’ll dry.” He laughs, dabbing his pants and shirt in the absence of your hand. As he stands he pulls the hem of his shirt away from his torso and looks down at it. “Really. It’s my fault I’m so…”

“Sticky?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, a blatant flirtatious action thinly disguised as a joke as you eye the blot of liquor staining the lower half of his shirt.

Both of his eyebrows raise and a mischievous smile curls the corner of his lips. “...Wet.”

You consider his answer with a pleased hum and turn back to the counter to polish off the last of your water. You’re friends now, right? It can’t be that easy. But it kind of is. So what’s wrong with a little harmless flirting between friends?

Drunk brain, who happens to be a notorious hoe, assures you it’s great. Rational brain might disagree, but she’s taking a well-deserved nap. You’ve at least had a good night. You’re not sure it matters at this point who is giving you the attention you crave. It feels good. So good, in fact, you’re sure you can indulge drunk brain a little more.

You’re drawn to the inky shapes swirling around Jungkook’s bicep as he wipes the counter down. Every time your eyes begin to focus on an object marking his skin with some kind of meaning, he moves and you lose it. It’s brush strokes, isn’t it? You’ve definitely seen a paintbrush and mountains and a knife surrounded by roses. A swathe of grey and purple connects to each one you’ve seen, but you know there are more.

Before you can blurt that you’re dying to know how many he has and how bad it hurt to get them, he turns toward the sink and begins to work his t-shirt up his torso. You watch in awe as the toned muscles of his back are exposed. The image of the bright phoenix does little to hide their definition.

Trying to will yourself to look away is of no use; he’s hot and you’re drunk enough to acknowledge that fact. Of course he peeks at you just as the shirt slips over his head to find you open-mouthed and dazed, ogling him as though there isn’t any shame in the world that could pull your gaze from him. He turns to the fridge to give you a moment to compose yourself, nabbing a water bottle from the shelf in the process. You’re clearly not ready for the way he quickly spins on the balls of his feet to face you.

Y/N.exe has stopped working.

Your fingers hang in the air suspiciously until you lazily drop them. But Jungkook dons a toothy grin and has the audacity to look shy. He mockingly shields his chest from you with the shirt clutched in his hands.

“Princess! Are you… checking me out?”

Somehow you don’t let the fire in your face turn your brain to ash.“Pfft, no.”

“What’re you doing, then?” he teases with a laugh as he sits, scooting his chair closer to yours.

“Counting,” you reply simply, brow furrowed in concentration. To drive the point home, you poke at his flesh everywhere you can make out an object drawn into its surface.

“How many?” he wonders, watching with cloudy, amused eyes.

“Mmm…” You trail your finger down his arm and back up, following the curve of the brushstroke around his shoulder. “Can’t tell if this counts as one.”

He shrugs and rests his head on his palm as he leans against the counter. “What do you think?”

You hesitate when he quickly quirks a brow.

“I think… A lot.”

“Definitely accurate,” he says with a grin.

Awkward laughter steers the pair of you towards your waters. The TV in the background provides enough noise to steal your focus; you’re grateful for the distraction from the attractive man beside you. Drunk brain is telling you to touch him again, to grab his hand, to feel the touch of someone just for the night, to ruin every good thing this night has started to rebuild between you. Anything to stave off the emptiness of your bed, the 2AM thoughts of failure, and the drunken desperation to find someone, anyone, who will fall in love with whatever image you happen to project on your dating profile.

Heart pounding wildly in your chest and blood rushing through your ears, your fingertips tap against the countertop as they inch closer to where his arm rests. Luckily your futile attempts at nonchalance go unnoticed. Jungkook anxiously turns his water bottle over in his hands, trying to gather words in his brain before freeing them from his mouth.

“So…” he begins.

You jump at the sudden sound and retract your hand while he’s not paying you any mind.

“I was thinking. About that guy…”

You wish you could at least pretend you don’t know who he’s talking about. You’ve vented plenty tonight, but still your heart sinks. Deleting Jason’s digital footprint from your life was simple and quick, but the feelings of rejection and disappointment that swirl in the back of your mind spill forward the longer his pause continues.

“I know this probably means nothing coming from me. But I just— I know you liked him, but you can do better.“

Your posture stiffens at his reassurance and you find yourself grateful he’s not looking at you. Do you deserve better?

“You deserve better,” he affirms, as if somehow aware of your internal struggle.

“Thanks,” you murmur with a distinct lack of enthusiasm as you stare down your glass.

It's cry hours, isn’t it?

Realizing you don’t believe him, he takes a deep breath and nudges you with his elbow. “Hey.”

“What.” You refuse to look up because you know you’re on the verge of an irrational stream of tears over some guy you hardly knew. It’s stupid and you know it. But the wet warmth coating your eyes tells you it’s coming regardless.

“I’m... sorry that you don’t feel like you do. Some people can’t get over the weight of their own shit. But that doesn’t mean it’s on you to pick it up for them. If they can’t even bother to carry themselves to meet you halfway, then they’re not worth the effort.”

It’s a perfect time for your heart to seize up and it takes the opportunity to do so. The advice he offers doesn’t stave off the tears, but it resonates deep within you. Namjoon said something similar. It makes you ache to hear it again from someone else. It just leads you back to the same questions you keep asking yourself. What’s so wrong with you that people don’t even want to try? Is it your personality? Physicality? Is it a lack of confidence? What is it?

‘I can’t even get a shitty guy to like me. Maybe I’m the one not worth the effort.’ You don’t dare say those words out loud. Pity isn’t something you’re looking for. A warm body to fill your bed maybe, but not pity.

“Sounds easy when you say it like that,” you murmur, trying in vain to will the tears not to fall. You’re quick to swipe at them and force a smile. “I guess I have trouble giving up on people. It’s not that I’m naive. I try to be realistic. But no matter how many times I get fucked over I just... hope for the best in people. I can’t help it.”

He pats your arm reassuringly. “That’s why you deserve better.”

If only it was as simple as hearing those words and magically being able to believe it. A big chunk of your confidence has crumbled away and there’s no clear path to restoration. As the warmth of his palm comes to rest against your arm, you place your hand over his and squeeze.

“I don’t know if I believe it,” you pause and thoughtfully add, “but thanks for saying it.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he offers a tiny, “You’re welcome.”

A shaky chuckle passes your lips. All of his features seem to soften the more you look at them. Maybe it’s the drunken gloss coating his big brown eyes or the way his lips slightly part as he looks back at you. The tightly coiled nerves in your belly urge you to unravel.

Although it's a subtle gesture, he licks his lips as he smiles and it practically seals your fate. If you don't leave now you're bound to do something you'll regret.

"It's late. I should sleep."

Or masturbate.

The speed at which you launch yourself from the seat is unpleasant. You're not sure what's worse: the dizzying vertigo or waves nausea sloshing in your gut. Jungkook's reflexes may be delayed but he's a steady mass of muscle the moment you reach out to steady yourself.

"Whoa. You okay?"

"Maybe," you mumble, finding yourself drawn to the heat radiating from his skin. Instead of walking away, slump down to rest your cheek against his shoulder and sling an arm around him. You might be drunker than you thought. "I don't know."

"Hmm. What do you need, princess?"

"Just wanna stop spinning."

His stance shifts to better accommodate the additional weight you press against him.

"How about you take over Yoongi's bed tonight," he suggests softly. "He's passed out anyway."

"No, I should go home." You peel your cheek from the warmth of his skin.

“You gonna make it there?”

“Yes,” you say indignantly. The world may be a bit wobbly right now, but you’re certain you can handle the short stroll down the hall.

"Okay.” He smiles, loosening his hold. As you step back your foot catches on the leg of the chair and it drags loudly against the floor.

Despite Jungkook’s attempt to keep you standing by grabbing at your arms, he loses his balance and he drops to his knees. The chair clatters to the floor before your ass does. Luckily his grip keeps your back and head far from impact, but you’re too cramped to be comfortable.

“Are you okay?” he asks. Those big, dark doe eyes of his are frozen in fear and a frown adorns his face. He looks so serious it’s ridiculous.

You can’t help but laugh, wiggling backwards to make space between his body and the heat steadily building between your legs. “I’m fine. Stop making that face.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” He sits back on his feet and tilts his head to the side in confusion.

He breaks into a fit of giggles when you dramatically mimic his expression. You roll back onto your elbows, making another ridiculous face to further mock him.

“No, no. It’s more like���” Jungkook takes the opportunity to lean over you, reaching with one hand to squeeze your cheeks to pucker your lips. You blow a disjointed raspberry at him before pulling his hand off to the side.

While the clamor of the fallen chair did nothing to rouse the men on the couch, the sound of Jungkook’s hearty laughter is loud enough to disturb the rhythmic snores of Namjoon.

Jungkook sits back on his heels and peeks over the countertop. He seems miles away, even as you sit up and scoot in to bring yourself closer. Laughter fades into a quiet hum as Namjoon’s snoring resumes.

You're lost in the abyss of his gaze as he turns his head to look back at you. All that remains in your brain at this point is a foggy desire to tug on the silky spirals of his ebony hair until he presses himself against you one more time.

Your hand settles for following the curves of his bicep instead, wondering how it might feel to be wrapped within his embrace. Some might say liquor makes you bold and stupid, and they're right. They should say it. But it also makes you feel invincible, like a goddamn glowing Mario star power-up.

"Princess?"

Enraptured, his eyes follow the motion of your hand as it slithers around his arm and squeezes. Unable to ignore the prompt, he answers with a flex against your palm. His ego swells when you shiver and noticeably hold your breath.

You know it's a mistake. You know it goes against all of your sober judgement, but you find yourself doing it anyway. It doesn't matter that you still harbor a grudge that holds your heart hostage. Drunk hoe vibes are taking the wheel. You’re tired, drunk as hell, and just want to feel wanted. And he's here.

Every fiber of your inebriated being is singing in unison: Why the fuck not?

Heartbeat pounding against your eardrums, you attempt to gauge his reaction as you lean towards him. It's hard to tell from beneath half-lidded eyes, but you think he's leaning towards you too. If he isn't you suppose you can always play it off like you're just a mess. It's not far from the truth. Focusing on the tiny freckle below his lip, you allow yourself to finally close your eyes and go for it.

But the universe isn’t here for your dumb boozy bitch mistakes.

The front door swings open with the sound of jingling keys dropping to the floor. It snaps you back to reality and you freeze, realizing there's no defense that will save you. Jungkook is quick to disengage, poking his head above the counter to acknowledge Hoseok’s presence with a wave. But his friend is completely enamored with the company he’s ushering towards his bedroom.

“Yeah, baby? How bad?” Hoseok whispers to the giggling girl wrapped around his arm.

He pins the stranger against the door to drag his tongue across her neck. Their bodies move rhythmically in a slow grind, a precursor for what’s likely to come. Jungkook purses his lips. How long until one of them notices him watching? It’s not until the girl moans Hoseok’s name softly that Jungkook spares a panicked look towards you.

Oh shit.

You gesture for him to get down before he draws their attention. The last thing you want to explain is why you’re on your knees in Hoseok’s kitchen with a very shirtless Jungkook standing close by. He obliges your silent request, squatting down beside you.

“Feel how hard you made me?” Hobi chuckles quietly.

The girl giggles, her voice growing closer. “You gonna fuck me right here or what?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Naughty girl. What if my roommate wakes up? Looks like he has a friend over too. You really want them to see what a dirty slut you are?”

You can hear her giggle as he directs her where to go, failing to keep his voice down so you hear every filthy thing he says after. Your hands fly to cover your mouth. Is your skin made of lava? You want to blame it on the close proximity to Jungkook, but the only thing you can imagine is Hoseok’s dick and the eager mystery woman about to be impaled by it. Can you scrub your brain of this memory? How are you supposed to look at him after this?

Jungkook watches your face carefully, trying his hardest not to laugh. Your eyes look so big he’s pretty sure they could roll out of your skull any second. Are you really so innocent? The way you cover your mouth says you are, but maybe it’s just the shock. Maybe you’re just trying to not laugh. Or scream. Or breathe? It kind of looks like you might pass out.

Are you gonna make it, princess? he wonders.

Once you hear Hoseok's bedroom door close, you fuss your hands over your hair and scramble to your feet, releasing a big exhale. The hushed words fall from your lips while you scurry away like a timid mouse. "I should go."

Despite being too far to make contact, he reaches out as you round the counter. "Wait—"

As soon as the word leaves his mouth he struggles to come up with the rest of his statement. There’s no reason to keep you here, except to maybe laugh a little about what just happened to smooth over any second-hand embarrassment. So why doesn’t he want you to go?

He swallows down the blank space caught in his throat and searches every last crevice of his brain for something of import to say. Guilt weighs his gut down, though there isn’t a clear cause. He’s probably screwed something up again without realizing it.

“Thanks for giving me another shot,” he says softly.

You breathe a sigh of relief and offer a tiny smile as you half turn, your hand already on the door handle. “Don’t blow it.”

He nods with a smile. “I won’t. Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” you mumble.

As soon as the door is closed you practically sprint down the hall to lock yourself within your apartment. Maybe it will also lock out all the mistakes your brain has made tonight.

The world feels colder now that you’re not pressed against the human-shaped heater that is Jeon Jungkook. Thinking about him makes your heart swell and ache at the same time. Regardless of how badly you wish you'd asked him to bed, you know loneliness is fleeting and guilt would be a far worse feeling to be saddled with.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook picks up the fallen chair, finding your soft, worn hoodie draped over it. Rubbing a thumb over the material, he considers running it back to you, but he can't remember which door is yours. It's not like he's been here often enough to know. Instead he slips his arms through the sleeves before flipping the hood over his head.

He settles on the floor in the space he previously claimed for the night, pulling a blanket out from under Yoongi's ass. Yoongi rolls his head up, a scowl on his features though his eyes remain closed. He grumbles but lies down, facing the couch.

Jungkook regards his friend for a moment before deciding to drape the blanket over him instead of claiming it for himself. Jungkook rolls onto his side and fluffs the throw pillow under his head. As he watches the credits roll on the TV, he nuzzles into your sweater.

He closes his eyes, thinking of you. He knows he shouldn't linger on the little occurrences of the night, especially with how foggy his brain is. He can't trust anything about his memory.

Still he thinks of the way your fingers trailed along his arm and curled tightly around his bicep. He lets himself dwell on the tiny sound you made, the involuntary tremble of your body, and the subsequent hitch in your breath.

He smiles and inhales the subtle scent you've left behind. A new spark of adrenaline fans flames that inflate his ego, spreading warmth from his stomach up into his chest. The world may wobble around him right now, but the little magical warmth within his gut helps him comfortably drift off to dreamland like he's the world's most immovable object.

#smutcentralnet #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #bts fluff #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic

[amoristt]

Grazing the Fire | IV

well hello. here i am, four years later, once again enamored with nathan enough to finally dust this baby off and pick up where i left it. im a little rusty so bear with me this chapter! much more to come <3

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)! it also helps motivate me!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

Warning: language, very vague s/a mentions

want to support me? heres my kofi!

__________________________

“Alright class, who can tell me,” A board stick clacks against the chalkboard. “Who can answer problem four?” 

A few hands raise in the corners of your eye, but yours remains atop your desk. Eyes far away, mind in a murky haze and almost completely unaware. All you could focus on were the memories playing on repeat within the confines of your tired, tired brain. Hours ago, you were warm, you were comfortable. Safe.

Cheeks heated to a dusting blush when you remind yourself just how you had awoken that morning. At some point in the night, an angel had blessed you. Allowed you to wake up wrapped around none other than big, bad, Nathan Prescott. Your face nuzzled into his chest, broad but wiry hands pressed firmly over your shoulder and his arm slung over your waist to keep you against him. Thankfully you had been the first to wake up, blinking away the morning sun blazing through his blinds and painting the room stripes of gold. At that moment, before your headache came crashing down onto your skull, you were astounded by him. 

Eye lashes brushing the top of his cheeks, his lips parted ever so slightly, chest rising and falling rhythmically. In that moment, there was no anger, no bitterness. Just a soft and peaceful slumber. It was like being the sole viewer of a magnificent painting- each stroke and detail placed just there just for you to pick out, to remember the curves and sharp edges down to the very foundation. From his unkempt hair down to the way his hand flattened onto the mattress where your indent still lived. Nathan was so beautiful like this. 

For a long time you stayed there. It was as though you were afraid to move- you couldn’t bear to disturb him. You had wondered, if he was always like this, so at peace, what would he be like? Likely soft voiced, mild mannered. He’d do his school assignments without hassle and donate to the charity board. He would wander the town with his friends and listen to music in a beat up truck flying down the stretch of highway overlooking the bold, blue, and beautiful ocean. An entirely different version of himself- carefree, and a fair blue as opposed to a burning flame of red. 

But, if that were the case, you’d never have gotten here. You’d never been both the outsider, and the only seeing eye. A lucky, albeit firstly unwilling witness to the display of depth before you. 

It never hit you like it had quite in that moment how lucky you were.

But- just then- an alarm disturbed what serendipity existed. You nearly leapt out of your skin, clutched your hands to your chest at the sudden sound. A headache wove its way into your once untouched temples. Nathan groaned, mumbled, ‘god damn it’, under his breath, and thus his body was reanimated into life. He rubbed his eyes and he stretched, that familiar scowl coming over his eyes and lips as he took in the sunlight damn near blinding him. A polar opposite to the being you’d appreciated just moments earlier.

“Ugh, fuck, how the fuck is it seven already.” He groaned. “I feel like shit.”

“Well good morning to you too,” You started, welcoming Nathan into the world. “‘I’m feeling pretty shitty as well.” 

You said that, but really… You were more than alright. Your head had hurt, slight nausea crept into the wells of your stomach, but other than that you’re sure you were phenomenally better than you’d have been waking up whereverTate would have left your ass.

“You need to get outta here, before everyone gets up.” Nathan drawled, but he didn’t sound as urgent as you expected him to be. You’d expected him to be angry that you were still in his room, but instead he just… accepted it. 

You snickered, climbing out of his throne of a bed. “Wow, you’re giving me the morning after treatment?” 

“Sure am. Get outta here, whore.”

“Oh fuck you.” 

You located your heels from last night, resting upright near his dorm room door. Heels didn’t sound like the most  practical to sneak out of a dorm with, so you instead opted to grappling them by the straps and carrying them at your side. Hair a mess, outfit riddled with wrinkles and makeup smudged under your eyes, you stood before Nathan in all your glory. He stared at you for a long, odd moment- and you for some reason felt exposed, or even, shy. 

“What?” You ask expectantly, placing a hand on your hip. 

His eyes trail to your line of vision. He shakes his head. “Just thinking about how now you really do look like my morning after.”

“Yeah?” You hummed. “Find it hard to believe you get a lot of those.”

Nathan shoots you a suggestive glance. “You’d be surprised. Everyone wants a piece of Prescott.”

Surely, he was joking, or maybe he wasn’t, but you… Didn’t like hearing that. It made your stomach feel odd, uncomfortably heavy.  As he stood up, reminding you how many inches he had over your size, you swallowed and cleared your throat to flush out that crappy feeling. “Well,” you started, mood having dropped. “I’m gonna go, then.” 

“What got your panties in a twist all the sudden?” He asked, raising a brow and pulling some clothes from his closet, tossing them onto the bed.

The bed you two had shared.

You hated the idea of his morning afters- whoever they may be. 

“Not feeling great. Probably a side effect of the roofies.” You mumbled.

Nathan breathed a laugh. “Probably.”

He seemed so calm, right now. Perhaps due to it being so early, before the outside world had a chance to remind him just why he was so uptight all the tight. Before he needed to be so uptight all the time. He really did have so many versions of himself- all of whom you were slowly becoming familiar with. Compared to the person you’d believed him to be before your run ins, you’d never have assumed someone so dangerous could be so soft as last night, as this morning. In the beginning, you’d feared him. Avoided him like a plague, or a wild animal. Even when you were enraptured in the existence of him, you still wanted to keep away. You’d never have believed someone like you could wake up clutched to his chest, as though he were afraid if he released you, you’d be gone long before he woke. 

Then, a sudden thought struck your mind. 

He’d held you so tight. He’d welcomed you in the morning. No anger, no annoyance. His soft laugh at your banter and taunts. How your heels were standing upright instead of tossed haphazardly into some random corner, where he’d watch your struggle to find. 

How he’d stayed awake to ensure your sleep.

“So are you just gonna stand there?” Nathan called you back to reality, hands gripping the hems of his shirt. “I gotta get ready and you need to wash up so you don’t look like a five dollar stripper.” Cruel words, but with absolutely no bite. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah. But, hey,” You started. “Thank you for last night.” 

“Yeah, yeah. You gotta start learning to watch your own back.” He says. “There’s gonna be times I won’t be there to drag your ass out of the fire.”

If you’d been charged, if you’d been stricken with a strange defensiveness, you’d have retorted, ‘than stop helping me’, but… Instead you allowed yourself the comfort of protection. You allowed Nathan Prescott to watch you.  

“I know,” You reached for the door. “Thank you.”

With that, you bounded out of the dorm silent as a mouse. 

-----------

In hindsight, you should have left earlier. Class was merely 15 minutes away when you slipped out of Nathan's room and bounded towards the women's dorm. Albeit not exactly a long walk, by the time you discreetly snuck back into your own dorm, you had roughly twenty minutes to somehow pick an outfit from your countless unopened boxes and make yourself even slightly presentable. 

Wiping off whatever make-up you could get and reapplying it, brushing out the tangles of your hair and nearly tearing off your scalp in the process, scattering your nightclothes over your floor and managing to scrounge out a semi-decent outfit for the day… You still looked a mess. If the mirror could laugh, it would have. Black mascara smudges under your eyes and frizzy untreated hair. What a lovely look. 

You’d made it to class just five minutes late, but those five minutes were all it took for all eyes to be on you as you tried to slide into the classroom unnoticed. A couple classmates whispered to their table mates as you passed by, smelling of oversaturated cherry blossom perfume to hopefully cover the scent of alcohol. You sauntered to your seat and sank down with all your weight, suddenly exhausted. You’d made it with just five minutes tainting your record of attendance. The teacher greeted you with a disappointed sigh, and thus, the day began. 

But, it was so hard to focus. All you could think about was Nathan. 

“Alright class, who can tell me,” A board stick clacks against the chalkboard. “Who can answer problem four?” 

You lowered your head. 

“Ah, how about, ___?”

You snaked back into reality, blinking up at the chalk board that was somehow already riddled with math equations. Since you hadn’t been paying attention even in the slightest, your mouth gaped wide open, eyes scanning for something you understood even slightly so you didn’t look like a total idiot. 

Sadly, you were out of luck. The teacher shook his head. “I’m shocked,” He said. “You're normally so on top of things. Oh well.”

“Oh, I’m sure she was on top of things,” A female voice sniggered behind you “Last night.”

Your face flushed a red, hot, ruby. What the hell was she talking about? How had they found out you were with Nathan? You were so sure of being sneaky, there was no way-

“Her and Tate totally got it on last night.”

You whipped around in your seat, facing girls who looked to be clones of some sort. Both with the same dark eyes, short brown hair, and freckles. “What?”

“Alright-” Your teacher blurted. “That's enough. April, May, enough. Let’s not discuss things outside of the classroom.”

The two girls batted their eyes. “Sorry sir.” One spoke, twirling a hand through her hair. Her sister's wide toothy grin never fumbled. 

“Back to it then. Kate, can you help out __ with number four?” 

The small, blonde girl nodded quickly, brushing a lock of hair behind her eyes and offering an empathic nod. 

As you turned around in your seat, her answer fell on deaf ears. Your heart was racing in your chest, hands balled into fists while you stared ahead blankly.  

They couldn’t seriously think that you chose to leave with Tate, could they? Surely someone must have seen the state you were in. Someone other than Nathan.

The clock ticks forward but time feels like it's passing almost unnaturally slow. With just 10 minutes left, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.

‘Nathan: consider ur favor officially returned 

Your tongue poked from your lips, the tiniest of smiles taking over your once sullen features. Terrible thoughts and worries flew out the window while you type back, ‘damn. here i was gonna to ask you to do a backflip off the roof with me. there goes my plans.’

Nathan types for a moment. Typing, stopping, typing again. 

‘Nathan: soundz like a blast. where and when?’

A small blush heats your cheeks. ‘very funny. thanks to last night i have an entire 24 hour session of studying to catch up with.’

His response is almost instant. ‘Nathan: boringgg. txt me when ur fun.’

Rolling your eyes, you shove your phone back into your pocket. It seems you’ve been able to secure enough of a friendship with him for some mindless banter even outside your little visits. You smile. He’s… Fun to talk to. Surprisingly. 

Class comes to an end and you start to pack up the books and papers you’d hardly even glanced at the whole period. Whatever had been upsetting you before is lost in your mind while you think of the morning, the night before. All the things in-between. But, your happiness doesn’t last long. As you get up, you’re almost forced right back into your seat as a weight shoves into your shoulder. Your books scatter to the floor. April, the one who’d remarked about you earlier, glares at you in what looks to be disgust. 

“Careful April,” Her sister hums as she saunters past you, keeping distance and raising her already shrill tone of voice. “Might wanna watch where you’re walking- I’d hate for you to catch something from this slut.”

You absolutely gawk at her. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

April scoffs. “Oh come on, like everyone doesn’t know what you were up to last night.”

“Sleeping around isn’t a good color on you.” May hikes her bag over her shoulder and snickers at you. They both leave the class together, sickeningly in sync. You’re left stunned where you stand, unsure how the hell your life came to this so quickly. How you’ve stooped so low that the daughters of the world's most uncreative parents are able to bully you based on something that didn’t even happen.

Next class goes no better. The person to your right, a jockey looking brunette guy, asks, ‘have you ever heard of a Tate?’. You say no, that that’s the dumbest name you’ve ever heard. The idiot grins and goes back to marking down likely wrong answers on his test sheet and you debate kicking the leg of his chair out- but you don’t to avoid even more eyes on you. It makes you sick to your stomach- even more than recovering from the roofies does. How can everyone believe it? You barely even knew the guy and you were clearly uncomfortable with his advances. No one saw that? 

After everything you’d worked for to build a reputation, trying so hard to not call out peoples shit for the sake of seeming friendly, tainted over something that didn’t even happen? And the kicker was that it hadn’t even been your fault! He’d drugged you, he’d have taken advantage of you! Yet you were the bad person? 

Class came and went in the blink of an eye this time. Your mind wrapped up in the situation, your stomach churning. You wanted the day to be over with but you still had 4 more classes to suffer through. Why was this happening to you? Was Tate being treated just as horribly, or was he getting pats on the backs of his unaware friends?

Wandering down the halls to your locker, you noticed Lance and Kaz hanging around one of the drinking fountains. Your nerves quelled- your friends would surely make you feel much better. Especially since they had witnessed how awful you were feeling as you left. You approach with a relieved smile, ready to say your truth and finally have someone on your side.

“Hey guys.” You smile, but Lance looks down at his feet while Kaz places her hands to his hips. Your smile fades.

“You could have told us you were gonna spend the night with Tate,” Kaz snaps. “You didn’t need to lie like that just to leave. We were all worried about you and it was for nothing.”

“What?” You feel like you could cry. “No, Kaz, I really did try to leave. Tate tried to drug me and take me home, and-”

“He wouldn’t do that.” Lance interrupts, with a frown. He looks back down at the floor with knitted brows. “I’ve known Tate since before time. He wouldn't do something like that, especially not to one of my best friends. Plus he told me he was really into you. Why would he even try?”

“Are you serious?” You sputter. “You think I’d lie about something like that?”

“You’ve been lying about all sorts of things!” Kaz huffs. “What’s going on with you lately? You’ve been so distant, and secretive. What are you hiding that’s making you lie like this? We’re supposed to be your friends and then you lie to our faces just to go and fuck the first guy that shows you attention.”

“What…?” It was like acid. It was like the rug had been pulled from your feet sending you spiraling down the unending cliff. Kaz, your best friend, all that venom. How could they turn against you like this? What the hell is going on? You felt your throat tighten. “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve been distant, but I’m not lying to you, I-”

“We gotta go.” Lance isn’t in the mood to hear it. “We’ll catch up to you.. Some other time.”

Kaz says nothing as she pushes past you. Lance, at least, spares a short glance over his shoulder. You stood there alone in the hallway, your bag falling off your shoulder and clattering onto the floor with a thud echoing off the walls. Everything you had, all gone at once. 

No one believed you.

---------

With nowhere to go where you felt like you could truly allow yourself to process the day's events, you went to the only place you knew. 

Just outside of campus, where rocks lined the edge of the boundary, overlooking the outskirts of the town and the ocean stretching as far as the eye could see. You settled yourself there, staring at the vast waters and wondering how this had all happened. Unlucky didn’t even begin to cover how it felt. Not only did you feel violated with Tate attempting to do unthinkable things with your unconscious body, but you also felt alone, and walked on. Your best friends hadn’t believed you. While Lance seemed saddened, Kaz was so… Angry. Her words cut like knives into your skin. 

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve this.

You want to talk to Nathan, but knowing him, he’d see your state and bounce instantly. After all, this isn’t exactly very fun of you.

As the sun began to fall, splaying orange and blues over the wide open sky, behind you, you could hear voices. A group of them, some male, some female. Memories of when your notebook had gotten snatched by those two horsed face assholes came flooding back and with all your alertness, you stood up, and decided that this sitting place was no longer safe. Nothing was.

Before you even made it ten feet away, the group had found their way to your spot and gotten comfortable, one of the girls cheering, ‘this’ll be our hangout! look at how pretty the view is!’

You took a short drive down the stretches of road and decided that if you were going to lament in your own sadness, you were at least going to do so in a place that had something to cover the sound of your tears. Plus a nice view.

The beach, littered with its picnic tables and the sounds of crashing waves would suffice just fine. So, you pulled in the desolate parking lot and wandered down the sandy shores until you stumbled upon a picnic table shaded by a large willow cascading lushious branches to block out the sun- a perfect canopy for you to wallow under. 

You had nothing at that moment. No friends, no reputation, no one to believe your tragic tale. And now, you’d just lost the one spot that made you feel comfortable when stress was building into your body like concrete. Tears pricked into the corners of your eyes and you bit your lip, dreading that feeling of a lump in your throat. Why you? Everything had been going so well. How could not even a single person believe that Tate had tried to hurt you?

Well, actually, there was one person.

Of course Nathan believed you. He’d been the one to rescue you, after all. Time and time again it seemed.  How was it that even the ones closest to you would turn their back so fast, yet Nathan seemed to be there even when you didn’t want him to be? Even when you yelled at him, and he yelled right back, fire and sparks falling into embers around the two of you. 

In that moment, you almost felt like you could finally relate to him. A reputation based on lies and things out of your control, paired with a hardheaded attitude to try and combat all the assumptions. 

No wonder he was so angry. 

“Hey bitch,” A voice suddenly called, and you had a split second moment where you were terrified of once again being the victim of a cruel prank or some classmates boredom. “How about next time you have a pity party you don’t fucking call me in the middle of it.”

You blinked away your tears and through the blurriness saw a figure coming towards you. All that sass, the tone...

“Nathan?” You breathed. It only takes moments before he’s in front of you, holding his phone in view, seeing that the call that had been running for nearly ten minute. You flush in embarrassment, pulling your phone from your back pocket. “How did that happen?”

“Well, can your ass dial numbers?” He taunts, ending the call. 

“Damn it, dumb phone must have butt-dialed you. I knew I should’ve gotten a different one.” You mentally kick yourself. “It must have unlocked in my pocket.”

“You don’t have a password on your phone?” He taunts. When you shake your head, he whistles. “You are just begging for a robbery. I’ll keep that in mind when I’m in the mood to send random messages to all your buddies.” 

“Fuck off.” You scowl, and he grins, hopping up on the picnic table next to you. The sun flatters his skin. He’s almost glowing. 

“Speaking of buddies, how the hell did it pick my number out of your sea of friends?”

You shrug. “Probably cuz’ it’s a priority contact.” 

“Oh lala, I’ve been upgraded to priority huh? Does it display a superman logo whenever you give it a ring?”

“Nope. When I press call it rings the nearest asshole in my vicinity. The fact that it’s you is your own problem.”

“Haha, fucking ha.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. He stares out at the water, watching waves pull and crash onto the beach. It’s almost beautiful, until he ruins it. “Yknow, you’re a really ugly crier.”

“Wow, thanks.” You shake your head. “That's exactly what I needed to hear right now. Why did you even stay on the line?.” Wiping your eyes, you start to forget your tears. “Couldn’t have been that wild of a conversation.”

Nathan shrugs. “Between the crying and the sound of the waves it was pretty nice.” He grins. “Very educational.” 

“Awesome. Glad I was able to make your day.” It doesn’t feel like your usual bitey remarks. You’re tired, you’re still a little hurt and you can’t stop thinking about how such an amazing morning had turned into such a horrible day.

“So what’s got you all fucked up? Never seen you act like this big of a baby before.”

“Nothing. You already paid off your debt to me per this morning, so feel free to resume our regularly scheduled mutual hatred.” You say, lying through your teeth. You know you’re both past the point of hatred, but you’re feeling jaded, you can’t help it. 

“Oh shut the fuck up,” He groans. “I didn’t drag my ass all the fucking way out to this shit hole of a beach just for you to give me that bullshit. What, did you fail a test? No one matched you on tinder?”

“Everyone thinks me and Tate slept together last night.” You blurt. “I think he’s telling people me and him had sex.”

Nathan tenses his shoulders and grimaces. “Fucking werido.”

“I told my best friends that he tried to take advantage of me and they don’t believe me. One of em’ even said he wouldn’t do something like that.”

“Fuck em’. Who needs best friends.”

“And to make everything so much better, these two bitches that I share four of my classes with harassed me all goddamn day. I mean, fucks sake, how the hell are girls named April and May of all things able to get to me. It’s bullshit. And to make matters worse, Tate is just… Getting away with it.”

“Yeah well, something tells me that Tate’s gonna get a real nice fucking taste of medicine eventually. I just gotta find him first. He’s got a lot of nerve spreading shit around given I knocked his ass onto the pavement.” Nathan brows knit at the memory.

You test the waters. “Why would you do that for me?”

He seems caught off guard, or maybe, surprised that you’d ask. Maybe he thinks you’re both beyond that point. He grumbles, “Why does it matter.”

“I’m just curious. We don’t owe each other anything, remember?”

“Yeah, well,” He huffs. “Don’t ask me questions to shit I don’t know the answer to.”

“You say that an awful lot.” You tease.

“Yeah well you ask dumbass questions an awful lot. Not everything I do has to have some weird ass motives behind it, ___. Maybe I’ve got beef with Tate that’s outside of you.”

“Uhuh. Sure.” You’re about to say something else, when your phone lights up with a text. The display makes your heart fall all over again. 

Unknown Number: you should just pack up and go somewhere else. no one wants std’s from breathing your air xoxo

You don’t even know who that is. Now absolute strangers are on your case. You want to throw your phone into the ocean and leave.

Nathan scoffs. “Don’t even bat a fucking eye for that bitch, whoever the hell they are. Half the hoes you’ve mentioned have slept with half the football team,” he pinches his jacket, “and I would know.”

“Ew, Nathan,” You grimace, that same feeling from the morning returning. It feels, oddly, like jealousy.  He nudges your arm with his elbow and grins playfully. It’s cute.

“Chill, I’m just fucking with you. You gotta know even I wouldn’t fuck girls that desperate. I’m a man of class.”

That last comment actually forces a laugh from you. It’s soft, but it’s real. The first laugh you’ve genuinely had all day. “That’s horrible.” You remark, giggling again.

It's almost like the slight restoration of your mood puts him at ease as well. He leans back on his hands and stares off into the ocean, those sparkling waters under the setting, orange sun. “I’m for real though. Those hoes aren’t worth your time. One day when we blow this shithole of a town they’re not even gonna matter.”

Your brows knit, eyes blinking up at him. Had you heard that right? 

“We?” You ask, perplexed, albeit a little… Hopeful.

Nathan sputters. “Well- Like, when everyone’s older and-”

“You know what, it's fine.” You interrupt. “Fuck it. You’re right. We’re gonna blow this town and they’re just gonna be some shitty memories.”

He sucks in a shaky breath. You’ve never heard him scramble like that, like he’s been unmasked. The look he casts you when you agree, when you don’t tease or patronize and finally hop on the idea that yeah, what if the two of you really didn’t have to deal with it anymore.

What if the two of you could just exist, without the anger. 

You look up at him. “Would you actually do that though?” You start. “With me, of all people?”

He swallows. His expression is tense, but he’s not upset. He appears nervous, caught off guard. Nathan tries, “I-”

Your phone rings. Shrill, piercing. Mood destroying. 

“Jesus Christ, it’s my mom.” You grab your phone and Nathan looks forward, stone faced and silent as you hop off the table and answer. It’s your mother, who all but shouts into the phone that her and your father are taking a surprising visit to Arcadia Bay while they’re traveling by on their vacation. She insists that you be ready in about an hour for dinner, and likely there will be family photos. 

Which means if you still look as wrecked as you did this morning, you’re gonna have a lot of washing up to do. With a quick goodbye, a short and sweet, ‘love you’, you hang up and sigh. 

“You still tell your mom you love her?” He teases. “What are you, five?”

You frown. “You don’t tell your parents you love them?”

Nathan side eyes you, and just shrugs. It is all the answer you need, really, and for his sake you decide it wouldn’t be best to press the issue. Not now. But- it still makes your heart hurt just a little. You wished that he’d had it better growing up. 

“Right… Do you want a ride home?”

“Fuck no, what am I,” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “a fucking girl scout?” 

“I was just offering, weirdo.” When he doesn't get up, you feel like you’re missing out. Like if you stayed, maybe, just maybe, you’d get to know him a little better. “Hey, if you want, I can stay for a bit longer.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re needed elsewhere. But,” he shrugs. “I don’t know. Fuckin’... Text me or something. Or not, I don’t care either way.”

There’s a small warmth in your chest that rises to your cheeks. He wants you to text him. “Yeah,” You say. “If I’m feeling fun.”

And with that, you bid him farewell, beginning your descent to the parking lot. 

“Hey,” He calls, and you turn just in time to catch a small item he’s tossed right at you. A tiny key resides in the palm of your hand. “Spare. If shit hits the fan again-...” He shrugs, and actually looks away. “Just don’t be too fucking loud of I’ll kick your ass out myself. No Madison needed.”

The widest grin plays over your lips. “I’m gonna re-decorate your room while you’re gone.”

“Ah, you fucking better not.” He shouts. “Actually- you know what, give it back.” 

“No, no! I’m sorry.” You play with the key between your fingers. “Thanks for this.”

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t lose it and remember- emergencies only. I don’t need you watching me sleep like fucking freak. We’re past that stage.” 

“How many times will I have to say I was never watching you. Christ… But, alright. See ya, then.” The key is heavy in your palm. 

You place it into your pocket and give him one last glance before you take off, leaving him to enjoy the sound of waves, birds, and the absence of your tears.

#nathan prescott #nathan prescott x reader #life is strange #grazing the fire #scenario #fanfic #fluff

[sugamamacustard]

One more time

Pairing:  Alpha! Toru Oikawa x Omega! Reader

Genre: Fluff! (Sorry, no NSFW this time! I just couldn’t fit it!)

Request: Hi 👋 May I request an Alpha Oikawa x Omega reader scenario where they already have a pup and Oikawa wants another. How he would he be with his pregnant omega and his pups ?I'm sorry if this is confusing, ABO Au is one of my favourites but I have never made a request before so I'm not sure how to explain? Fluff, NSFW you can write it however u like THANK YOU 💕

Summary: You loved your small little family, but your alpha felt there was something missing. 

Author’s Note: I loved this request so much??? Like, it’s so wholesome and domestic and my A’/B/O heart melts every time at Dad! Alpha! boys.  I’m super sorry as I didn’t put any NSFW into this. 

Requests: Open!

Toru Oikawa

➵  Your daughter Akemi was a blessing in every sense of the word. She was a sweetheart, happy and giggly and the absolute cutest little thing.

➵   Even if she did look like an absolute carbon copy of your husband.

➵  Her bright brown eyes and chocolate locks all copy and pasted from him.  

➵ She was precious in every way nonetheless, even if Toru rubbed it in your face every chance he got.

➵ You never got made at him though, as he was the ideal father in every sense of the word. 

➵   He made time for Akemi every day, even if he was sore and sweaty from practice—he’d shower before saying hi to her--, he’d let you have at least thirty minutes a day to yourself, more if he feels he has it down, which is almost always the case.  

➵   Toru fed her, changed her, helped you to clean up the house. You both worked like a well-oiled machine and parenthood was a breeze.

➵    It was tough at times but you both stuck to your guns, communicating efficiently about what you wanted for Akemi and her childhood.

➵    How you wanted to deal with future tantrums, what schools you were looking at for her (Neither of you were touching high schools just yet), but there was one thing that you always seemed to slip out of discussing.

➵     Siblings for Akemi.

➵    Either you never really had the time before Akemi was crying, or you and Toru were fast asleep by the time you had the chance or- there were just a multitude of things that stopped the conversation from happening. 

➵   Until Akemi’s first birthday though.  You were rocking your daughter to sleep, brushing your hand along her head and past the brown locks on her head, just reveling in the feeling of holding your pup, a sign of your and your alpha’s love for each other, even if your omega felt the smallest bit…Empty? 

➵   You knew that you and Toru wanted more children, just never got a chance to really talk about it

➵   . “Hey,” Your husbands voice purred into your ear, making you purr in response.

➵    His hands rested on your hips, holding you close as he held his daughter’s hand, running his thumb over her knuckles with such a soft and proud smile, making you just melt.

➵  “I know we haven’t talked about it in a while, but I want another.” 

➵  You laughed. “Another pup, huh?”

➵  He nodded, rounding around to take Akemi. He laid her in her crib, slowly moving to hold you close once more—his hands on your hips with yours wrapped around your neck.

➵ He kissed your forehead, resting his forehead against yours. 

➵  “Mhmm. This time they’ll look just like you with your cute little nose and beautiful eyes. Maybe even your adorable little cheeks.” You laughed, squirming when his hands came up to pinch your cheeks, enlarging your smiling face. 

➵ He let go suddenly, turning and walking out of the nursery with a smirk. “Of course, maybe the Oikawa genes just run to deep.” He chuckled, making his way to your bedroom. You merely laughed once more before following. 

___

➵ “And then when mommy’s tummy is all big and round- Pop! Out comes your new sibling. Maybe a boy or girl. I hope for a girl. Two little princesses to spoil and love.” 

➵ Akemi giggled at her father’s words, not really understanding what was going on but enjoying the attention, nonetheless. 

➵  Toru couldn’t blame her though, as he too was laughing and giggling all through the house.

➵  It had been four months since you began trying, a heat passing where Oikawa proved yet again, he was the perfect husband by tending to you and allowing his sister to watch Akemi for four days your heat was there. 

➵ She was ecstatic to hear the news of you guys trying and jumped at every opportunity to babysit for you guys.  

➵ “It’s not really a pop, but whatever you say, Daddy.” You laughed, stepping out of the bathroom, thin stick in your hands. Toru watched you expectantly, turning Akemi to look at you too.  

➵ “Ma!” Akemi preened, holding your cheeks with her small chubby hands when your nose rubbed against hers.  

➵ You crouched in front of her, holding Toru’s knees with your hands before smiling up at him.

➵  “Hope your ready to go through those nine months again.” You chuckled, Toru nearly squealing with delight as he brought you into a hug, Akemi squished carefully between you two. 

➵ “Ma!” 

➵ “Ma- Oh my god- I’m gonna be a dad again ‘Kemi! Focus on me!”

➵  “Ma!”

___

➵ You knew you married Toru Oikawa for a good reason. 

➵ Yes, he could be an asshole. 

➵ Yes, he could be the most annoying person you would ever meet.

➵  Yes, he sometimes cared too much for volleyball and-

➵ You had a point. What was it?

➵ Oh- Toru was an amazing husband through and through, despite all his flaws. He cared deeply for you, for your daughter, for your new baby (You decided to keep the gender a surprise to piss of Mattsun and Hanamaki who had a current running bet on what it would be).

➵  Every inch of his being, both alpha and not, was dedicated to your family. He was just as doting during this pregnancy as he was the last, making you purr in delight. He never wasted an opportunity to run out and grab whatever you were craving. He was even teaching Akemi to help. 

➵ She’d waddle around after you—making you watch where you are going 24/7—picking up anything you dropped and giving it the extra foot and a half that would make your life so much easier. 

➵ She picked out blankets and onesies and pacifiers, everything you would need she had a say in. And maybe it was another Blood Oikawa thing, but she had great taste. 

➵ There was a small running duckling theme in the new nursery, which was painted a pale grey, most of which was coordinated by…You guessed it.

➵  Oikawa and Akemi. 

➵For being twenty- almost twenty-one - months (A year and eight months), she was incredibly clever and smart for her age. That was all you though.

➵  No way was Toru ‘hit it till it breaks’ Oikawa the smart one in your relationship. (I live to bully this man I’m so sorry).

➵ When the first signs of labour (I’ve waited for this moment. To write about labour, as I see it done wrong all the time and as a Bio 30 student it hurts) showed up, you two began making plans to slowly prep yourself for the delivery of your new baby. 

➵ Oikawa called up his sister, who screeched—loudly into his ear when he told her about your first contractions—before agreeing to come over in case they drastically increased. You re-packed and double checked your hospital bag, making sure you had everything you didn’t during your first trip.  

➵ And you even packed Akemi her own bag for when her aunt would drop her off to meet her new sibling.  She was just as excited to meet them as you were and was constantly handing you things she would later ‘gift’ to her sibling (These included a multitude of…art that was labeled 2 bb in the cutest, but messiest scribbles you’ve ever seen). 

➵ You had to explain that when her sibling got back from the hospital, she could give them all the art she wanted as it would not all fit into the bag. She understood, watching you pack a change of clothes and pull ups for her. 

➵ She would waddle after you as you and Toru would slowly walk up and down the hallways to try and ease the pain, which was more uncomfortable than painful really.  

➵ Coos left both of you when she tied to hold onto your leg like Toru was, looking up to you with wide eyes brimmed with tears. 

➵ When active labour kicked in, she cried, hugging you both before you left. Akemi made sure to pat your belly at least one more time before waving you off, watching you both leave. 

➵ Toru was amazing the whole time, purring to you and letting you crush his hand (Yes. It was his spiking hand as he was going on paternity leave and had the time to heal. Plus, nothing would ever top his family).  

➵ When it came time to push, he was encouraging in every sense of the word, coaching you through the entire thing.

➵  He brushed off every snap you sent his way, every angry word and vile insult spat his way. He didn’t know what you were going through, just that it was painful and taxing on every part of your being. 

➵ Mentally, physically, and he was not about to start a fight with you. 

___

➵ When your son was finally handed to Toru, he cried. He’s cried a lot in his life, most in front of you, but he would always cry when it came to his family.  

➵ His son was just as small as Akemi was when she was born, but just as precious. 

➵  His face was squishy and chubby—and cone shaped—but he was adorable and you both absolutely loved him. 

➵ When Akemi got to meet him, she also cried. She loved her brother the moment they met, which you and Toru were forever grateful for, and would refuse to go more then ten feet away from him.  

➵ You ended up naming him Hiroshi, which Akemi had been trying to pronounce for as long as she’d known it.  

➵ Your little family was beautiful, and Toru was thankful for you, giving him his two bundles of absolute joy, and your love.

➵  He was entranced with you from the moment he met you and never knew his life would lead to this. He wouldn’t change it even if he had the chance. 

➵ In case you were wondering, your son ended up looking exactly like his sister and your husband. Seems the Oikawa genes run long and true.  

#alpha/beta/omega #alpha oikawa #alpha/beta/omega AU #alpha/beta/omega verse #A/B/O verse #a/b/o #haikyuu!! #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu omegaverse #a/b/o haikyuu #alpha toru #alpha toru oikawa #alpha toru oikawa x omega reader #alpha oikawa x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #custard writes #this is so wholesome #dad! Oikawa x Mom! Reader

[nix-the-cryptid]

Actions Have Consequences

Professor AU! Heisenberg x Gender Neutral! AFAB! Reader

Part three of my series

WARNING!! 18+ NSFW

Tags: Punishment, misuse of rulers, praise, on top of a desk, minor overstimulation, minor orgasm denial

Summary: Y/n ends up getting punished for some avoidable mistakes. But, it may or may not end up working out in the end.  

During class, Y/n’s mind kept going back to what Mr. Heisenberg had said about “disciplinary actions” and having to work on Y/n’s “listening skills.” If they were honest, y/n was a little nervous. Heisenberg was known for being harsh on students who didn’t follow the rules or do their work properly. Getting yelled at by him was not something you admitted to freely. But, with how their relationship was working out, y/n realized that their “punishment” may end up being a bit different.

Thinking on their relationship over the past little while had y/n thinking about a lot of stuff. Ever since that first time together, almost two weeks ago, they almost always ended up having sex after class. Not that y/n minded, of course. But was that all there was between them? What would happen when classes were done for the year? Y/n graduated this year, too, so then what? The thought of never getting to spend time with Mr. Heisenberg like that made y/n’s heart sink harder than they realized. They enjoyed Professor Heisenberg’s company and it was becoming obvious they wanted more out of the relationship. But they doubted it would go over well if they brought this up with him. Y/n doubted that Mr. Heisenberg would want to commit himself to such a relationship with a student. The pain in y/n’s gut deepened at this thought, a lump catching in their throat as they felt like wanting to cry. Y/n quickly shook their head of the thought, coming back to reality.

Apparently, the class was meant to take some notes on whatever Mr. Heisenberg had presented but, just as y/n came to, it was over, and they hadn’t written down a single thing. Chances were Mr. Heisenberg most likely noticed at some point but didn’t say anything.

“Alright, now that we’ve gotten through that,” He exclaimed, grabbed his things from the desk. “Let’s head to the shop and work on those practical assignments. Maybe get them done today, yeah?” Y/n groaned as they began packing their things, noticing that there was still a whole 50 minutes left of class.  2pm simply could not come fast enough. They soon followed Mr. Heisenberg out the door and down to the lab, almost wanting to walk beside him but deciding against so as to not draw too much attention to themselves. Mr. Heisenberg was wearing a black t-shirt today, but like always, it was just a bit too tight on him. Y/n saw, just at the base of Heisenberg’s neck were some faint red marks. Squinting a bit to get a closer look, y/n soon realized that they had left those marks a couple days ago. They blushed furiously at this thought, wondering how many of the others might have noticed those marks at any point and if anyone had asked about them.

 “Hey, y/n!” One of the other students, Leon, called out. He was one of the better students in the class and was nice enough. His voice startled y/n out of their staring at Mr. Heisenberg. He and Y/n had been working together on the current assignment. “Do anything fun last night?” Y/n had to suppress a small noise at this question, a small blush forming on their face. ‘yeah, totally! I got railed by Professor Heisenberg in the shop after class!’ they thought to themselves.

 “Uh, no,” They laughed awkwardly, rubbing their neck. Leon’s face sank a bit at this. “Not really. I just went home and did some studying.” Leon just nodded. “I don’t go out much. And of course, by the time I get home and finish any work, I’m just too tired to really do anything.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.” Leon agreed. He then glanced at Professor Heisenberg for a bit before smirking. “Ya know, whoever left those scratch marks on his neck there,” He whispered to y/n making them blush deeply. “They’re one lucky fuckin bitch.”

 “Well, I’ll be sure to let them know, Leon.” Heisenberg smirked, making Leon let out a squeak of embarrassment. Y/n did their best to stifle their laughter as Heisenberg unlocked the doors to the shop, letting everyone else enter.

 “Well,” Leon exclaimed. “I can never look our Prof in the eye ever again!” y/n chuckled at this before blushing a bit more. ‘If only you knew,’ they thought. ‘If only you fucking knew.’

  “Yo, Sir!!” Another student exclaimed. “Whose car is that?!!” Y/n furrowed their brow before noticing the Cadillac at the back of the shop. ‘funny, wonder who’s that is. It kinda looks like- OH NO!’ y/n’s brows shot up and their eyes widened. That was Professor Heisenberg Series 62, uncovered meaning y/n had forgot to cover it the night before like they were supposed to. ‘shitshitshit’ They looked over to Mr. Heisenberg, who had also gone wide eyed at the sight. ‘Now I’m really in for it after class.’ Heisenberg shot them a hard glare, signaling his disappointment at the scene. However, he quickly masked it before turning to the student who had noticed it.

“Ah, that beauty?” Heisenberg sighed. “She’s all mine! Brought her to get her working again. Didn’t have the equipment needed back home.” Professor Heisenberg explained. “Bitch needed a whole new engine, practically.” Y/n could feel the jealousy building with each word. Heisenberg looked at them and must’ve noticed as his expression softened a little. Y/n then watched a number of students rush over. ‘They’re gonna ruin the paint!’ Now y/n was angry. Not just with their classmates but with themselves for not putting the cover back on. 

 “Uh sir,” A female student piped up. “There’s a dent in the hood…” y/n’s eyes went wide. They knew exactly what that dent was from. Seeing Heisenberg’s face showed that he also realized what it was from. 

 “I must’ve been so busy repairing the engine, I must not have fucking noticed!” He laughed nervously. Y/n watched as Heisenberg blushed at this, their own blush forming as they tried not to laugh.

  “Well, do you need any help with it, sir?” Leon asked.

“NO!” Heisenberg blurted out, rather fast and loud. Y/n let out a chuckle at this. “No, I’m close to being done. But you all could do better on your tests, I wouldn’t spend as much time having to mark them!” The class let out a collective groan, except for y/n. The pang of jealousy still sat heavy in their gut. And meeting Heisenberg’s gaze showed that they weren’t doing too well at hiding it. His stare was intense and dominating. Y/n lessened their pout a bit, but they were still upset with themselves over not covering the car and having everyone see it.

 ————————

 “Alright see you Monday, everyone!” Mr. Heisenberg called out as everyone got up to leave. Y/n hung back, taking their time to clean up. 

 “Hey, y/n!” Leon called out, as he threw his bag over his shoulder. “I was meant to ask you if you wanted to hang out. A few of us are getting together at my place for the afternoon.”  Y/n stammered a little, watching Professor Heisenberg pack up his own things. He glanced up, waiting for y/n’s answer. “I can give you a ride if you need. I know you walk to school and all so… It wouldn’t be any trouble.” As much as y/n knew they should socialize with their classmates, today was the absolute worst day to have been asked. They would’ve said yes but, they also didn’t want to be in anymore trouble with Mr. Heisenberg, no matter how enjoyable the punishment really would be.

        “Uh, actually,” y/n started. “I’ve got another class today, so I’ll pass.” They looked back to Heisenberg to see him give another glance before continuing packing his things. Leon must’ve noticed this because he cocked a brow at y/n.

      “I thought this was your last class,” He pondered.

        “One of my other classes had to be moved to the afternoons recently.” Y/n lied. Leon’s expression neutralized at this, meaning he accepted it.

“Oh, okay. Maybe next time.” The other student shrugged. He then headed out of the class. Y/n let out a shaky breath before they turned back to their things and finished packing, hearing Mr. Heisenberg approach. They stiffened a bit but continued what they were doing.

 “I’m disappointed, y/n,” he stated, coming to lean against y/n’s station. “First, you don’t listen before class. Then, I found out you didn’t cover the convertible?” Y/n hung their head in shame. 

“I’m sorry, sir.” They replied, keeping their head bowed but peeking up at their professor. “I completely forgot to cover the car last night.” They heard Heisenberg scoff.

“You know I was going to wait until we got back to the classroom but after this, well, shit.” Heisenberg grabbed a hold of y/n’s chin, forcing them to look at him, smirking. “It looks like we’ll just have to settle things right. Fucking. Here.” Y/n gulped, slightly nervous about what was coming. “Get in my office. Now.” Heisenberg let go y/n’s face roughly and pointed to the office. “Go on.” With that, Y/n quickly headed to the small room, Professor Heisenberg close behind. “You’re normally such a good student, too. I’m shocked that you’d let yourself slip like this.”

  “It won’t happen again, Mr. Heisenberg,” Y/n whined.

 “Apologies aren’t gonna get you out of trouble that fucking easily, y/n.” Heisenberg growled as they entered the office. He made a show of slamming the office door shut and locking it. He also closed the blinds to the door but not the other windows. “So, we need to work on those listening skills of yours.”

“How?” Y/n asked sheepishly. Heisenberg just grinned as he took a seat in his office chair and began piling the rest of his papers together on the desk.

“Well, first, you’re gonna strip.” He ordered. Y/n made quick work of their clothes, watching Professor Heisenberg clear everything off the desk. They hadn’t noticed before, but the desk was metal, which meant the cold air from the AC in the shop had chilled it, even with everything on top of it. When Heisenberg finished, he turned to y/n and simply stared for a moment, taking in their naked body. Y/n shifted slightly, keeping eye contact with their professor. “Eager to please, as always.” Mr. Heisenberg chuckled. “Bend over the desk. Now. And pass me that ruler while you’re at it.” Y/n looked to the wooden ruler hanging next to the desk. Their eyes went wide when they realized what Heisenberg was planning on doing. Y/n simply passed the ruler to the professor and slowly leaned themselves over the desk. They winced a bit at the cold metal against their skin. However, the shiver that down their spine was not from the cold. Heisenberg chuckled at this, bringing a hand to their ass and began massaging it a bit. “You know what, hands behind your back. C’mon.” Y/n complied with haste. As they did this, Heisenberg’s hand left their ass. But before y/n could make any sound to protest, they heard the sound of Heisenberg undoing his belt. Turning to see just what he was doing, Y/n watched as Mr. Heisenberg stood up, took the ruler in his teeth, and used his belt to tie y/n’s wrists together. The leather of the belt bit into their skin just a bit, making y/n hiss a bit. They then looked up at Heisenberg to see him take hold of the ruler again, smirking. “You look so fucking nice like this, y/n! Now, I want to hear you count, got it?” Y/n nodded, gulping.

“Understood, sir!” Y/n blurted out. SMACK! “AHH! ONE!!” Y/n cried out, both in pleasure and pain. The force was brutal and sent them forward a bit, which made their nipples rub against the cold metal of the desk. This intensified the pool of arousal in their gut. SMACK! “TWO!!” Y/n sobbed.

 “Ya know, maybe I should’ve let some of the other students help with the car,” Heisenberg mused, letting the ruler rest against the sore cheek. “Would’ve saved you some trouble.” He lifted the ruler up, waiting a bit.

 “But sir-“ SMACK! SMACK! “AAAHH! THREEEEEFFFFOUR!” Y/n felt tears stinging their eyes. The arousal building up from this was growing fast. SMACK! “FIVE! Fuuuccckkk!” They heard Heisenberg laugh behind them. He then grabbed their tied hands and bent over them.

 “Or would that have just pissed you off, kitten?” He growled in their ear. They whimpered as Professor Heisenberg pressed against their back, his hard cock rubbing up along their back. y/n let out a whine at the feeling. “All those students messing with your hard work, putting their fucking fingers all over the paint? I saw your face when everyone rushed over to it.” Heisenberg lifted himself back off of y/n, who groaned at the loss of contact. Suddenly, Heisenberg was rubbing the cheek slowly, as if trying to soothe the pain. “Ready to continue?” He asked, his voice somewhat gentle.

         “Yes Mr-“ SMACK! “HEISENBERG!! FUCK, SIX!!” Now he was focusing on the left cheek. The tears that had welled in y/n’s eyes fell, finally as they lurched forward from the force of the hit. SMACK! “JESUS!! SE-“ SMACK! “-VENNNNEIGHT!!!” Y/n was full on crying, the pained pleasure causing the arousal in their gut to become a bit too much. Y/n felt themselves clench around nothing, their slick just soaking their folds and the insides of their thighs. SMACK! “NINE! FFFUUUCCKK MEEEEE!!!” Y/n sobbed, feeling themselves right on the edge of their orgasm.

 “Oh?” Heisenberg purred, resting the ruler against their ass. “Is something wrong, Y/n?” Heisenberg knew exactly what was wrong. But watching y/n squirm and try to choke out an answer was too fun.

“Please sir, I’m so-“ SMACK!!! “CLLLOOSEEEFUCK!” Heisenberg slammed the ruler hard against both cheeks, with more force than the last ones. They screamed at this, so close to finishing and yet not close enough. It was almost torture. “TENNNNNNNN” Y/n sobbed, tears streaming down their face. They then heard the ruler be tossed to the side somewhere. Y/n then moved to push themselves off the desk as best they could when Mr. Heisenberg pushed their head back down. He then shoved his hand in between their legs, landing on y/n’s clit. “SIRRRRR” The screamed as he began to harshly rub the oversensitive bud. However, this only lasted a little bit, before Heisenberg pulled away. Y/n sobbed, merely wanting to come now.

 “Shit, you really did enjoy that, huh?”  Y/n could only whine in response “You did good, kitten.” He mused, untying their hands. “But we’re not done yet.” Y/n let out another whimper. “Sit up and face me.”  Y/n then braced themselves and pushed up off the desk, their legs barely able to keep them upright. They then shifted themselves around to face Professor Heisenberg. As they went to sit, the cold metal against their raw cheeks stung fiercely. They shrieked at the feeling, which then turned in to a pained whimper. “Aww, is it cold against your bruised ass? Well, you’ll just have to endure it for a bit longer.” With that, Y/n watched as Professor Heisenberg began stripping, his pace slow. It was like he was putting on a show for y/n, who could only squirm against the cold desk. “Damn, what a fucking sight you are.” He growled as he slowly removed his shirt. “I’m still reeling from Leon’s comment earlier too.” He joked. Y/n blushed as they remembering what their classmate had noticed. “Part of me, a very evil part me, wanted to implicate that it wasn’t just anyone who left those marks.” Y/n whined, squirming more. “Bet that would’ve been quite the punishment on its own.” Heisenberg slipped off his boxers, stepping out of them and approaching y/n. “Oh, you know I would never do that to you, Kitten.” He purred, moving close to y/n, leaning over them to kiss them. His hand then made its way down to y/n’s pubic mound, his fingers slipping between their folds. Y/n moaned loudly at this, bracing themselves against Mr. Heisenberg as he began to run his fingers up and down their cunt, just missing their clit. They were extremely sensitive down there, as they had yet to come still. Heisenberg made quick work of their folds and clit, rubbing fiercely. “Come for me y/n.” With that, Y/n screamed out in pure pleasure, coming hard and drenching Heisenberg’s hand in their juices. Once they had started to come down, Heisenberg gently grabbed their waist and brought them both over to the chair taking a seat, placing y/n in his lap facing him. Once they did, he gently grabbed their ass and began massaging them. “How do you feel, y/n?” He purred as y/n wrapped their arms around his neck and rested their head against his chest.

 “A bit sore,” Y/n whined slightly. "But, you seem to be in need of some relief.” Y/n purred as they attempted to push back against Heisenberg’s dick. The man groaned at this feeling, squeezing y/n’s ass a bit to keep them still. Heisenberg could see the exhaustion starting to take a hold of y/n but the feeling of their drenched cunt against his dick was hard to resist. 

 “I don’t want you to overexert yourself, Buttercup.” Heisenberg’s voice was soft as he went into kiss y/n’s neck. This made y/n hum in pleasure. “I was pretty fucking hard on you.”

 “I want to, sir.” Y/n repositioned themselves over top of him, taking a hold of his dick. They slowly lowered themselves, the slow push hitting every nerve in their cunt. Both y/n and Heisenberg. let out a long and loud moan as they sat themselves down, taking in his full length.

 “God, you feel so good, y/n” Heisenberg hissed, grabbing their waist, and gently lifting them up before pulling them back down, thrusting up a bit. Y/n gasped at the feeling, quickly wrapping their arms around Heisenberg’s neck again. Y/n then matched Heisenberg’s movements, lifting themselves up and coming back down. They felt themselves clench around his member, drawing a moan from his lips. “Fuck!” Suddenly, He grabbed Y/n’s legs and stood up. Y/n shrieked, tightening their hold on Mr. Heisenberg. He placed them back down on the desk, which was still cold, making y/n arch their back from the feeling. “Cold still?” Heisenberg joked, kissing their neck again.

 “Yesss,” Y/n hissed, trying to grind down on Heisenberg’s dick since he wasn’t moving. “Please, sir.” They whined. Heisenberg lifted his head from y/n neck and looked them in the eye before standing up and pulling y/n’s arm off. “Please fuck me.” They begged. Heisenberg smiled as he grabbed onto y/n thighs before pulling almost all the way out and thrusting back in hard. Y/n let out a small scream that quickly turned into a moan as Heisenberg continued slamming into them.

“Always so perfect like this,” Heisenberg grunted, squeezing y/n’s thighs tight enough where there was a slight sting. Y/n whined at the sensation, tossing their head to the side. “Oh no, look at me.” Mr. Heisenberg growled, grabbing a hold of y/n’s chin, and yanking it so they were facing him. This caused y/n to gasp, grabbing onto his wrist. “I want to see those beautiful eyes of yours while I fuck you senseless.” Y/n moaned again, quickly locking their legs around Heisenberg and bringing him closer. As they did this, he took a hold of their waist with his other hand and lifted them up, shifting the angle. This caused his thrusts to hit deeper into y/n, making the pleasure increase. “You love this, don’t you? When I fuck you like this?” He growled, leaning forward a bit and pulling y/n’s face closer.

 “Yes, sir!” Y/n moaned. Heisenberg gave a couple hard thrusts at this answer, drawing the moan out. “I love it when you fuck me, Sir!”

“That’s a good girl,” Heisenberg purred, letting out of y/n’s neck, and moving his hand down their side. “My good little kitten.” This drew another moan from Y/n, enjoying the praise. The hand that had snaked down y/n’s soon made itself known again as Heisenberg began rubbing their clit. The sudden feeling of his hand on their nub drew an incredibly loud gasp from them that then devolved into a whine, seeing as they were still somewhat sensitive there. “All the noises you make are. Just. Fucking. Perfect.” Heisenberg emphasized each of those words with a hard thrust. Y/n’s cunt then clenched hard around his length, making him moan as well, which turned into a small chuckle. “Do you like it when I praise you, Buttercup?” Y/n just nodded, unable to form a coherent enough thought to actually respond. Heisenberg just chuckled before leaning in for another kiss and picking up speed. Y/n mewled into the kiss, the sensation sending them right to the edge again. “Are you about to cum again, y/n?” Heisenberg asked softly, breaking the kiss. Y/n could only moan in response. “Well, then. Go on. Cum. But. Scream. My real name when. You do.” His hips stuttered as he spoke, making the words come out in moans. He then began thrusting even faster, bringing y/n over the edge.

“KAAAARLLL!” Y/n screamed, arching their back as they came. Heisenberg also came at this, thrusting as deep as he could and filling y/n. The warmth of his seed flooding y/n’s insides, making them moan even more. The two remained like that for several minutes as they came down and caught their breath.

“God, that was… shit” Heisenberg said, still somewhat breathless. He slowly pulled out and let go of y/n, pulling a whine from them at the loss. “Think you can stand, Buttercup?” He asked. Y/n lifted their head to look at him, nodding slightly. Heisenberg  offered his hands for them to take and use him as leverage. Y/n sat up with a groan, the feeling of Heisenberg’s seed dripping out being an odd sensation. Professor Heisenberg opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out a small rag, which he then used to wipe up any cum dripping down y/n’s legs. They moaned softly at the feeling, biting their lip, and crossing their arms over their chest. Once he was done, Heisenberg  sat down in the office chair, beaming at y/n. “Come ‘ere, kitten.” Y/n pushed themselves off the desk and wobbled over into Heisenberg’s lap. “You did so well. Listened to everything I asked. A+ performance.” He purred, pulling y/n close to his chest, and stroking their hair.

“Thank you, sir.” They yawned, exhaustion filling their muscles now that the adrenaline from their arousal has subsided. Heisenberg let out a small chuckle, moving his hand down y/n’s back.

 “I told you,” He started, his voice low. “Use my name.” Suddenly, y/n was wide awake. They lifted themselves off of Heisenberg’s chest to look right at him. They were wide eyed, furrowing their brow at his comment. “What’s that fuckin look for, y/n?”

 “Sir, I-“ Y/n stammered. Heisenberg just hushed them, pulling them back to his chest.

 “Shhhh,” He hummed. “Just relax.” The two of them were silent for a good bit after this. It wasn’t tense, however. Simply reveling in each other’s presence. But this time felt different. Their relationship had shifted. Whether it was a good thing or not, only time would tell. Y/n felt the full extent of the exhaustion that had been piling on them, their eyelids growing too heavy to keep open. Another yawn slipped out of them as they snuggled into Heisenberg. He placed another kiss to the top of y/n head and muttered something else they couldn’t quite catch before y/n drifted off.

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

And there ya have it!! Again, if you have any requests for future chapters, feel free to leave it in my inbox!! And if you wanna be tagged for future fics, just lemme know!!

@stararch4ngell4dy @fredyria @kuronekopirate @weathur @1800shootmeplease

#heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg #professor au #Karl Heisenberg fanfiction

[horanghaes-gaze]

“We’re on a Mission” - Renjun fluff

Word Count: 1728

Genre: Fluff, a bit of crack/humor

Warnings: none

Notes: Here it is! The Renjun fluff is finally done and up, so I hope you guys enjoy it. As always, requests are open as well as my inbox in general, so feel free to send in something. And if you’re going to request, please remember to make sure that you read the rules and things to know post on my page before you do. Thank you so much, and once again, I hope you enjoy~~

"Are you staring?" Jaemin asked Renjun, who was indeed staring at you.

"No, of course not..." he looked towards his friend who could tell he was lying, anyone could from the look on his face. Jaemin dismissed it, not really paying much attention. Renjun however was still feeling a bit sour, his mind still focused on you. He honestly just accepted the fact that you are out of his league since you're beautiful, amazing, and talking to a guy with your cute smile that you do when- wait. No. It can't be. Or at least, he doesn't want it to be. Is that guy really trying to ask you out and expecting a yes? There's no way you're going to- oh, she said yes... Well this was a predicament. He's been too scared to ask you out for the past year that he forgot that another person could ask you out, which just happened right in front of him. Great, just great. 

"Did you get dumped or something? You're more pissy than usual today" Haechan teased, only being half-serious. Half because he would never actually make fun of Renjun getting dumped, but the other half being serious because Renjun was being a little on edge. 

"Mind your own business, Donghyuk"

"Ooh, he used your government name too" Chenle laughed at Haechan. 

"Ugh", Renjun simply let out as he slumped on the floor of the practice room. He couldn't get the thought of how happy you looked getting asked out earlier out of his head. It bothered him even more since it wasn't him who asked you out, and also because you said yes to the other guy. 

"Is it about that girl you were staring at earlier?" Jaemin chimed in.

"Oooooh a girl? Renjun and a girl? Do give details" Haechan said, wanting to know more.

Jaemin explained to the other five how for the past two months, he noticed Renjun staring or sneaking glances at you quite a bit. Renjun glared at him the whole time, not wanting to admit he had fallen for you, and that he had fallen deep... for the past year now. He also didn't want to admit that you had called him your "sweetest friend" one day when having lunch together. Mark, trying to be a bit helpful and not wanting to embarrass the younger boy further, spoke up.

"Why don't you ask her out? I'm sure she'll say yes, and if she doesn't then that's her loss” 

Renjun groaned before speaking.

"Someone already did earlier, and I've been chickening out for a year now, and on top of all that, she called me her 'sweetest friend' at lunch one time" he buried his face in his hands. 

"You already got friend-zoned, what a loser- ow!" Haechan doubled over in pain. 

"Don't listen to him, he doesn't mean it" Jeno gave his signature eye smile after elbowing the aforementioned male.

"Oh wait, y/n? Like, the really pretty one? That y/n?" Mark spoke again. 

"Yeah... that y/n" Renjun buried his face further into his hands, if it was even possible to hide that much more. 

"Why don't you just ask her out?" 

"...too scared" Renjun timidly said. 

"Why?" 

"Because she's her and I'm...me" he simply explained.

"Dude, come on, we'll help you out, don't worry, leave it to us and you'll have your girlfriend before you know it," Mark said, wrapping an arm around Renjun's shoulders.

"And how do you plan on doing that exactly?" 

"As I said, leave it to us, all you have to do is show up" Mark assured.

"Yeah, because you're such a lady's man," Haechan said, earning a glare from the older one. 

"Don't worry, just trust us, dude" 

Renjun doesn't know why he decided to trust them with this. But he did, opting to make desperation the reason why he agreed to let them do whatever they were going to do.

...................

You were currently on your date with Minjun, a former classmate of yours that you had recently started talking to again. Sure, he was nice, but you didn't see him being anything more than a friend from high school. The only reason you agreed to go on a date with him was because you felt bad saying no, especially with how he awkwardly held up the flowers he got you. Shaking you out of your thoughts, he handed you the drink you ordered, you thanked him and sat down, hoping that you could at least enjoy the date even if you didn't see this going far. Just as Minjun was about to strike up a conversation, a group of loud boys came into the boba shop you resided in. 

"Oh my gosh, y/n! It's you!" you looked up, seeing Jeno wave at you, the other members following suit. Well, all of the members except Renjun, what a shame.

"Oh, hey guys," you said as they came up to you. Minjun looked over, clearly uncomfortable with how the group of six interrupted his date with you. 

"Um, are you getting drinks? And where's Renjun?"

"Oh, he got held back at practice, and we're here on a mission- stop elbowing me!" Haechan explained before yelling at Jeno. 

"And what's going on here, y/n?" Jeno calmly asked.

"I'm on a date, this is Minjun, I know him from high school," 

"Oh, well, we'll let you get back to it then, it was nice seeing you" 

"You too, and say hi to Renjun for me!" you said as they left.

"Yeah, we'll see you around-oh, I'm so sorry!" Chenle feigned guilt as everyone looked at the spilled drink on Minjun's shirt and lap. You hadn't noticed how fake the apology was, but that was fine by the boys, who made no moves to get napkins or something to clean it up whatsoever. 

"It's fine, um, do you mind helping me get something to wipe it off with?" Minjun spoke towards the group. 

"Oh, we would but we're already late so just have y/n send the dry cleaning bill, okay bye!" Jaemin replied, pushing the rest out the door to mimic a rush. 

"Here, let me help you," you offered, getting napkins and wiping off his shirt as best you could. 

"I'm so sorry about that, but please let me get the dry cleaning for this-"

"Don't worry about it," he smiled at you.

...................

As the date went on, it was clear that it wasn't going well. Maybe he had bad luck, but nothing was going the way Minjun had hoped it would. From the spilled drink to his phone getting lost and then his card getting declined, things weren't looking too good.

"Maybe we should call it a night so you can figure things out," you suggested.

"Nonono, we're going on this date," he insisted, almost sounding scary with how determined he was.

"No, really, we can go another time, you sound frustrated, not to mention your clothes, phone, and card-"

"So you're embarrassed to be with me, is that it?"

"Not at all, I'm just worried since you don't have your phone and your card is getting declined"

"I didn't know that you were a gold digger, would've never expected this from you, y/n" he scoffed.

"What? No, I'm genuinely-"

"Whatever, you should be thankful I asked you out at all"

That was your breaking point, only making a quick comment about wishing him home safely before speedwalking away. As you were in your head about what had happened, you bumped into someone. Someone very familiar.

"ah, I'm so sorry, y/n, I didn't mean to do that and bump into you, I was just-" Renjun kept rambling on with apologies until you cut him off with a hug. He awkwardly pats your back a bit until you hugged him tighter, making him relax and start brushing his fingers through your hair.  

"What happened?" he asked you softly, voice calming you instantly.

"My date was an ass" you replied.

"I'm sorry, you deserve much better than that, any guy would be lucky to have you...or girl. I don't want to assume or anything you know and just-" he started rambling again. 

A smile graced your features as he kept going on, thinking of how cute he was getting so worried as to whether he offended you or not. You simply laughed a bit, making him let go of the hug and scratch the back of his neck instead, a sheepish expression painted on his face. 

"It's okay don't worry so much, Junnie" you reassured him. 

He blushed a bit at the nickname you had used. If anyone else had called that, he might've threatened to punch them by now, but you were an exception. You were always an exception to him. You always will be because well, you're special to him. The only person that makes him not want to punch them every time they tease him or call him a nickname of some sort. Even if you dared to call him Renjeon or some other incorrect pronunciation of his name, he would still find it endearing. 

"You still there?" you waved your hand at him a bit.

"Yeah, for you, I always am-"

"YEAH, THAT'S OUR RENJUN BEING SMOOTH AS HECK" could be heard from a nearby bush before abruptly being shut up. The voice sounding an awful lot like Jaemin if you were being honest. 

Looking back at Renjun, whose face was now a deep shade of red, you laughed once again, this time at his friend's antics. He tried his best to smile back, swearing to get back at Jaemin when he gets the chance, but you didn't need to know that. 

"This is embarrassing..." he cringed at his friend's comment.

"It's okay, you actually look adorable when you're embarrassed like this" you confess.

"I'm sorry about him, he's just- wait what? You think that I'm adorable...?" he gets even more sheepish than he was before if it was even possible. 

"I always think you are" you let out another confession.

"I like you!" he blurts out with his eyes closed, scared to see your reaction.

You smile at him once more, even if he couldn't see it.

"I like you too, Junnie," you tell him.

"YEAH, GET IT RENJUN, THAT'S OUR FRIEND RIGHT THERE. OPERATION GET RENJUN A GIRLFRIEND IS A SUCCESS, SUCKERS"

"SHUT UP, JAEMIN"

#renjun imagines #nct renjun #renjun #renjun fluff #renjun fanfic #NCT #nct dream #nct dream reactions #nct dream fluff #nct scenarios #mark lee #haechan imagines #jeno fluff #jaemin #jaemin fluff #chenle #chenle imagines #park jisung #nct jisung #jisung fluff #nct 127 reactions #wayv #nct reactions #kpop #kpop writing

[midnightstar-90]

Live Laugh Love ~ Pilot

Masterlist | Taglist | Request

Georgie Cooper x Reader

Summary: 9-year-old Sheldon Cooper learns that having a brilliant mind doesn't always help growing up in Texas.

Warning: None

A/N: I wrote 2,587 words! I loved being able to bring my creations to life. I hope to do more in the future.

Y/N and Georgie are in Georgie's room when Mary calls the two teens down for dinner. They head down the stairs and into the kitchen. As they sit down in their chairs, right next to each other, they hear Mary yells towards the garage, "Shelly, dinner's ready!" Mary starts serving the table as we wait for Sheldon. George yells out to Sheldon after a couple of minutes, "Sheldon! Don't make me come in there!" Y/N and Georgie sit there engaging in a hushed conversation about the movie they watched together earlier that week. Missy soon gets tired of waiting for Sheldon, and yells to Sheldon, "Sheldon, if you don't get in here, I'm gonna lick your toothbrush while you're sleeping!" Sheldon quickly responds with, "Coming" before rushing into the house to eat.

Sheldon enters the house, and he quickly sits down with the rest of his family, who are all sitting around the table. George waits for the boy to sit down before saying, "What the hell were you doing in there?" Mary calls George's name with a calm yet angry voice. George notices and responds with, "What?" Mary gets onto George for his language. "What language?" George asks Mary before turning to Sheldon, "So?" "I was having fun with dimensional kinematics", Sheldon says responding to his father. Hearing this, Y/N and Georgie look at each other and roll their eyes.

"Just at admit it, he's adopted," Georgie says to his parents after turning his attention away from his food. Sheldon turns to Georgie and says, "How could I be adopted when I have a twin sister? Think monkey, Think." Y/N chuckles at Sheldon's insult towards Georgie. Georgie gives Y/N a glare. Mary breaks the fight between the boys by telling them that no one was adopted, but Y/N. Mary realizes what she says and sadly looks at Y/N. Y/N just shrugs and goes back to listening to the people she called family. Y/N was sad about the reminder of the situation that occurred when 11 years ago but didn't let the comment affect her.

"I wish I was.", Missy comments under her breath. "That can still be arranged.", Mary tells Missy before telling the family that it is time to pray. George expresses his irritation with a groan, causing Mary to give George a very stern look. Right before the family starts to pray, Sheldon puts on a pair of mittens. George groans again which makes Y/N chuckle. "Leave him be," Mary says defending her youngest son. George argues, "He can hold hands with his family, it won't kill him."  "We don't know that." Sheldon says before looking at Georgie and asks, "Did you wash your hands before dinner?" "Shut up," says Georgie defensively. Y/N finally speaks up, "Hey, I have to hold his hand to pray every night, whether his hands are washed or not." Georgie glares at Y/N again, and Y/N and Missy laugh and high-five each other under the table. "I hold his hand Y/N, hence the mittens." Y/N playfully rolls her eyes at the comment. The family holds their hands together and prays.

After prayer, Sheldon takes off his mittens and starts eating with the family. Mary asked everyone at the table if they were excited to start school on Monday. Sheldon is the first to respond with an "I am". Missy then responds to Mary's question with an "I guess so". Y/N is third to respond with, "I guess. The only thing I like is hanging out with Georgie and the fact that I am in Art this year". Ever since Y/N moved into Cooper's household, Mary noticed that the one thing Y/N loved more than hanging out with Georgie was how creative she was. At church, Y/N would sing like angel. When Y/N thought Mary wasn't looking she would dance her heart out. Y/N also had a sketchbook full of really cool art and a notebook full of wonderful poems and stories. Mary knew Y/N was gonna have a successful life, and she hoped and prayed that Georgie wouldn't mess it up for her.

Georgie was not happy about starting school. "How can I be excited when he's gonna be there?!" Georgie complains. Sheldon boasts, "Don't worry, I won't be in the ninth grade for very long". George tries to help Georgie by saying, "Never mind him, you and Y/N just focus on your practice". Georgie is on the football team and Y/N is on the cheer squad. "How am I supposed to do that when he's in the same grade as me?" "Just ignore him. At least you'll have me there, except for 5th period. I have art" Y/N reassures her best friend.

"All I know is he's not in the same grade as me anymore, and I am thrilled," Missy says before getting a kick in the leg and glare from Y/N. Sheldon sarcastically says, "Good luck with your finger painting."Missy responds with, "You're gonna get your ass kicked in high school". Mary yells at Missy about her language. Sheldon says, "I'm not going to be assaulted- high school is a haven for higher learning". Y/N and George both respond with a quiet, "oh, dear God".

"Speaking of God, who's going to church with me tomorrow?" Mary asked. George says he can't make it because he has to meet with the other coaches. Mary asks if they could meet after church which George responds with a, "no, we can not meet after church". There is an awkward pause before Mary asks Georgie. Georgie tells his mother, "I have to study my playbook." before looking to his father for approval. George nods at his son, while Y/N looks down at her food with a sad expression, wishing that Georgie would have gone with them. "I have to practice my cheer performance, but I can do that after church. It would be nice to go back," Y/N tells her godmother, which puts a big smile on Mary's face and a frown on Georgie's. Sheldon also decides to go with Mary. Y/N's face grew a wide smile hearing that Sheldon was going. "Oh! Cheer practice can wait! Sheldon at church will be more fun than any cheer performance! I can just see it now. Sheldon and science versus Pastor Jeff and God." Y/N jokingly says while laughing. Missy brings the conversation back to Sheldon by asking why he's going to church when he doesn't even like church. "No, but I believe in mom," Sheldon said putting a big smile on Mary's face.

When Mary asked Missy if she was going, Missy tried to get out of it, but as I said she tried. "Son of a bitch.", Missy says under her breath. Mary flicks Missy's head and Georgie laughs. George smacks Georgie's head and Y/N laughs.

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

Y/N's Pov

Mary, Sheldon, Missy, and I were all in our church clothing, sitting in a pew. The church was full. Everyone except for Sheldon sang Onward Christian Soldiers. Sheldon whispers something to Mary, that I couldn't hear.

Pastor Jeff starts the sermon and Sheldon is still asking Mary questions. "Do you have evil thoughts?" Sheldon whispers to his mother. Mary shh's him but he still keeps going, "I just don't think this part applies to me". "That's fine, be quiet and listen," Sheldon says something else about puberty, causing an older woman to turn towards the boy and his mother. When the woman turns back toward the Pastor, Sheldon asked Missy and me if we had evil thoughts. I respond with a "Not really" but Missy said the opposite, " I'm having one right now". When Sheldon asks what it was, Missy said that she was going to kick him where the sun doesn't shine when we got home. Sheldon tells missy that his balls haven't dropped yet and then asked his mom when his balls would drop. The older lady turns back towards the family and Mary threatens the woman.

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

We get back from church and Sheldon instantly goes for the student handbook. I pass Mary and Sheldon to go change. I go into Georgie's room after I change. Georgie is in his normal wear, a t-shirt, and jeans, reading his 'Sports Illustrated' magazine. "You know you have no chance with any of those girls in that magazine, right", I say leaning against Georgie's door frame. Georgie instantly looks up at me and says, "You look good. Maybe more than those girls in my magazine." I'm wearing a black jean skirt, with a nirvana shirt tucked in and a black and white striped long sleeve shirt under it.

Georgie and I laugh at his comment and walk over to his bed. "So, how was church?" Georgie asked while going back to reading his magazine. "It was ok. Your mom almost beat up an old lady for calling Sheldon weird, after he talked about his balls dropping. Other than that, it was like any regular church day." I tell Georgie. "So!", Getting Georgie's attention, "How was your playbook?" I ask Georgie knowing he was lying. Georgie looks at me then back at his magazine. "You know that was not the main reason I didn't go to church. I'm not as invested in church as much as you are, so don't give me that look." Georgie says knowing I was going to get onto him for lying to his mother. I dropped that conversation, and we went downstairs to watch tv and talk.

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

When I get downstairs, I see George and Georgie talking, so I walk over to them. On my way there, Mary stops me and asked me if I've to saw Sheldon's bowtie. I shake my head no and continue walking. When I get to the table where the boys are talking, they are talking about football. Mary comes up and asks if the boys have seen Sheldon's bowtie. George tells Mary, "Leave it alone Mary, he doesn't need a damn bowtie." Mary argues back, "It's his first day of school, let him wear what he wants." Sheldon yells down the stairs that he still can't find his bowtie. "Oh dear lord, why's he gotta wear a bowtie?" Mary says walking away.

"Can Y/N and I ride in with you", Georgie asked his father. I sit there eating my breakfast quietly, before looking up when hearing my name. George contemplates the situation, then says "sure". "Everybody's gonna know he's your brother. You can't hide. It's gonna be awful for you." I didn't even know Missy was at the table before she said something. "Tell her to shut up." Georgie defensively tells his father. Georgie tells his son, "She's not wrong" earning a light slap on the arm from me. George mumbles sorry and goes back to his coffee.

We're all eating when Mary storms into the kitchen. "George Junior, give me back that bowtie right now!" She yells. "I didn't take it!" "Don't you lie to me!" "I'm not lying!" "We'll see about that!" The pair go back and forth. When Mary walks back upstairs, he yells for his mother to stay out of his room. Missy smiles and says, "She's gonna find your dirty magazines." "Shut up." "You are not having a good day." I shake my head at Georgie, agreeing with Missy.

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

Georgie and I are sitting in homeroom when we see Sheldon walk in. Sheldon calls out, "My father's a football coach, my adoptive sister's a cheerleader, and my brother's a football player!" When Sheldon sees us he yells out, "Oh, 2/3 of them are over there! Hi, Y/N! Hi, Georgie!" Georgie and I put our heads down in embarrassment.

Ms. Macelroy introduces herself and the class. She makes a joke about having some of our family members in her class, which causes a few students to chuckle. She introduces Sheldon and Sheldon raises his hand. When the teacher calls on Sheldon, we hear Sheldon tell Ms. Macelroy who is breaking the dress code. Georgie and I sink in our chair lower and lower as Sheldon keeps talking. She dismisses Sheldon, but he puts his hand up again. Sheldon tells his teacher that she is also breaking the dress code because she has a mustache. Georgie and I sink as low as we can in our chair while the rest of the class laughs.

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

Georgie and I are on the football field but on opposite sides. I am with the cheerleaders practicing my moves, and Georgie is with the football players practicing blocking drills. I knew Georgie was having a hard time with starting school with his younger brother, so I kept my eye on him. When I see the fight between him and Albert Stinson, I excuse myself from my squad and follow Georgie to the boy's locker room.

I walk in to see Georgie angrily tearing off his equipment. When he accidentally throws something at me, I quickly dodge it. "You know, if you threw like that on the football field this year, we would win playoffs for sure," I say jokingly getting Georgies attention. "What are you doing here? This is the boy's locker room." "I don't care if the whole team was in here naked, I would do anything to help my best friend when he is down." Georgie sits down next to me. George is watching the whole thing play out. "Do you remember when I was 5, and I missed my parents so much that I had that tantrum?" Georgie nods his head. "You were there for me when I needed you, now it's my time. I've seen how upset Sheldon going to school with us has made you. You have held in your emotions for too long. I know you get jealous when Sheldon gets special treatment. I want you to know that you are not the only one. Missy and I feel that way sometimes, but I have you. I don't need anyone to but you to make me feel special. I guess what I am saying is..." Georgie looks up at me, and I take Georgie into a side hug, "When you feel emotional don't take it out on your team. You have me. Talk to me. We are always together and I don't want to see you tear your life apart over something stupid like going to school with Sheldon."

George comes from behind the locker and tells me to go back to practice. I let go of Georgie and give him a sad look before doing as George instructed.

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

We get home, and George stops me at the door. "Thanks. You stopped your practice to help out Georgie. I appreciate that.", George tells Y/N sincerely. "Georgie is my best friend. Now, if he managed to hit me, that conversation would have gone a whole other direction." I say jokingly. George chuckles and lets me go.

I go up to Georgie's room. Georgie looked like he was in a better mood. I went in and talked with Georgie until time for dinner.

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

Narrator's Pov

The whole family gathers around the table to eat, but first, pray. When it's time to pray Sheldon surprisingly doesn't wear one of his gloves. No surprise when it wasn't the hand Georgie held.

Later that night everyone was sleeping peacefully, except for Y/N who would find laying right next to Georgie, like they have been for the past 11 years when someone was upset.

#montana jordan #georgie cooper #sheldon cooper #missy cooper #mary cooper #george cooper #meemaw #big bang theory #young sheldon #fanfic #x reader #connie tucker #georgie cooper x reader #wattpad

[butwhyduh]

Ghosts

Tim Drake x reader

Warning: grief, maladaptive grieving strategies, alcohol, smut, ghosts

I wrote this probably 3 months ago and just now edited it.

You met Tim Drake at the graveyard. It was a blustery early February day. The snow was on the ground but hadn’t snowed in a few days. A short dry blessing for Gotham. Graveyards were the few places that were treated as sanctuaries that they were. Most people in Gotham knew more than their fair share of loved ones residing in multiple across the city.

You walked down the stone path. In the summer the lazy shade of oak trees covered the path but right now, the bare branches just hung mockingly as they protected only a little from Gotham’s frequently bad winds.

You pulled your coat a little tighter and wished you had grabbed a scarf too. Nevermind, your visit was going to be short. You moved with practiced ease through the tombstones. You knew exactly were they were buried. A delicate iron fence surrounded a small spattering of stones. His family plot.

You walked through the gate to a grave on the right side. A small stone vase was attached to the tombstone. You placed a single white daffodil before standing silently. You had nothing to say. Funny when you miss a final goodbye, you often run out of things to say afterwards. You couldn’t cry. It was too stiff. Too odd. All you could do is sigh deeply before walking out of the yard.

You swiftly walked down the path as you hoped to escape the place that caused so much pain. In your hast, you hadn’t bothered watching for others. People very rarely visited on such cold days. You ran into someone.

“I’m so sorry,” you gasped. You’d ran into a man that was clearly grieving. How terribly rude.

“I’m okay,” he said steadying you with a hand on your elbow.

“I’m so sorry to bother you. I’ll let you be,” you said, flushing even in the cold weather.

“Are you alright?” He asked looking at you carefully. You nodded but didn’t move. “Grief is odd, isn’t it? I had to come down here but feel nothing. Not a damn thing.”

You froze. Most people weren’t this honest. “I get it. Grieving sucks. And it never makes any sense, hu?”

“No. It really doesn’t. I think that I’ll come down here and have a deep conversation with him but nothing comes out. I get over here and feel silly talking to a stone,” he said with a sigh. You looked at him. He was about your age and wore a long black peakcoat and a red scarf that whipped in the wind. His clothes were impeccably tailored but looked almost too mature for him. Something a man closer to 30 would wear rather than a guy around 20. Black hair, icy blue eyes. A little bit of a natural sarcastic smile.

“Sometimes the words come when I sit for a while,” you offered.

“Do you- do you mind if I ask who you were visiting? Not their name but who they were to you? You don’t have to. I just wonder,” he said. You hesitated before speaking.

“My boyfriend. He was my boyfriend. And you?”

“My best friend,” he said. “I don’t visit enough. Not near enough.”

“I understand. I’ll let you be then. So you can talk to them instead,” you said carefully. Most people wanted quiet alone time with their dead loved ones. Unlike you. You felt a sense of relief. At least your ghosts weren’t speaking to you when there was someone there.

“Please don’t,” he said quickly. Perhaps not. Maybe you weren’t the only one haunted by ghosts, even if his was more metaphorical. “I just hate being here alone. You don’t have to stay. I’m just a weirdo asking you to hang around a random grave.”

“It’s okay. I really hate being here alone too,” you said barely over a whisper. He nodded. “Do you- do you want to talk about them?”

“Him. Not really. He was just so young. To be dead already,” he said. You looked at the headstone. Yes 22 was far too young to be in the ground. You didn’t say anything.

“I’ll wake up and forget he’s dead sometimes,” he said playing with his fingers roughly. “And it’s like he dies all over again.”

“I’m so sorry. I’ll have a dream so vivid that it’s like he’s back. Sleeping can be so cruel, can’t it?” You said, feeling your throat tighten a little.

“It’s the worst. I just see his death over and over. I think my mind hates me sometime,” he admitted before gulping. You nodded again. You didn’t trust your voice not to break and you could bear to cry.

“You’re freezing,” he said suddenly, looking at you. “Here,” he offered you his scarf and put it around your neck before you could truly protest. His soft cologne invaded your senses. “Do you want get a drink? Or a coffee?”

“I could use a drink,” you answered and he nodded. He kicked the dirt with the tip of his shoes.

“There’s a little pub around the corner. They play cliche Irish music but it’s pretty quiet with good drinks,” he said.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“Tim. Yours?” He asked back and you told him your first name. “Drinks? It’s cool if not.”

“Yes. I’m half frozen at this point,” you admitted.

“I can tell. You need to wear more layers,” Tim said with a small smirk.

“Is that Gotham’s version of ‘you’re not from around here?’” You asked. He huffed in amusement.

“Basically. You’re from somewhere warmer,” he said. You shrugged in agreement. “Let’s get going before you freeze.”

“It would be the most ironic place to die,” you responded. He shook his head but didn’t seem upset at your dark humor.

The pub was Irish themed in a way that made you wonder if they did anymore research besides the color green and putting on Flogging Molly which isn’t really Irish anyways. But it was warm and smelled like fried food. You sat in a cramped booth in the back and you couldn’t help but notice just how out of place Tim looked. Everything about him screamed rich and this was a working class bar. Tim didn’t seem to mind though.

“Are you hungry,” he asked and you realized you had a rumbling in your stomach. When was the last time you ate?

“Yeah. I wasn’t hungry until just now,” you commented.

“Yeah I usually force myself to eat,” he said waving over the waiter, a tall skinny guy that looked about 14 with almost white blond hair wet with sweat. You both ordered food and drinks.

“What do you do for a living,” you asked Tim as the food arrived. You were finally warm.

“My job is really boring. I work in investment in a technological corporation,” he said and your eyebrows rose. Tim shedded his coat. “I told you, boring.”

“Sounds... serious,” you said with a little smile and he chuckled. His smile was handsome and he had pretty blue eyes.

“Well, yeah. What do you do? Is your job fun?” He asked in a teasing voice. Even as you smiled back at him, you felt guilty. How could you be happy right now?

“I’m a painter. Or I’d like to be. I mainly design advertisements for companies right now,” you said.

“Painting? That actually sounds fun,” he said a little surprised. “Sorry. I haven’t really been around people since...”

“Yeah. It’s hard to be there when their happy and you’re...” you said. Great. You just made it dark again.

“Yeah...”

“Hey pretty lady,” a drunk man said, sitting next to you in the booth, pushing you closer to the wall. “Have I seen an angel on a star, or whatever.”

“Okay, let’s get going,” Tim said standing up and putting his hand on the guy’s shoulder and the guy shrugged him off. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“How do you know, rich boy? Maybe she wants to talk to a real man,” he said with a lopsided grin.

“I don’t,” you breathed as he leaned towards you. You pulled back against the wall. Tim pulled the man out of the booth. The guy growled and sized Tim up. He must have thought he had a good chance, being at least 4-5 inches taller and 50 lbs or more heavier.

He took a drunken swing at Tim who easily deflected away from him. The man didn’t stop but tried to punch Tim again. When he deflected another attack, the man grew even more red faced and tried to tackle Tim against the table. Before the gasp you made could fully come out, Tim had slipped out of the way and grabbed the back of the man’s neck and popped his face on the table. The man slid down unconscious to lay on the floor.

You stared with your mouth slightly agape. What the hell just happened??

“Are you okay?” Tim asked and you stuttered before assuring him you were. “Then we should probably get going. The bar won’t like this.”

“It’s a pub,” you corrected.

“Yeah, let’s go,” he said and you snapped out of it as he grabbed your hand and left out the building before the owner could throw you out. He instead screamed out the door that neither of you could come back. You and Tim ran down the street before stopping at the next block. You laughed loudly and after a confused second, Tim joined. He was still holding your hand.

“That’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time,” you said loudly before Tim shushed you. “How did you? He didn’t even get one hit in,” you breathed.

“Luck I guess?”

“Not a chance. You do karate or something,” you said, standing way too close to him. He grinned at you.

“Some Krav Maga. A little Jui Jitsu,” Tim said almost shyly and you nodded.

“I’ll pretend to know know what those are,” you said and he chuckled. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” Tim said staring at you. You caught him looking down at your lips. He was really handsome and had just saved you. Cliche? Totally. Did you care? No.

You put your arm on his other shoulder, Tim’s free hand slid to hold your waist. He bent until he was just short of kissing you. All you had to do was lean up to kiss him.

“Can I?” He breathed.

“Yes,” you whispered. He pressed his lips against yours. The kiss started gentle but before long Tim’s hand held your jaw as he pushed his tongue in your mouth. You made a little breathy moan. Tim pulled back to catch a breath but still rested his forehead against yours. You grabbed his collar and pulled him back in. He grasped your back and pressed your body against his. You were panting when you finally pulled your lips apart.

“My place is a few blocks away,” you breathed. He gave you a questioning look. “If you, if you wanna come back.” He nodded before giving you a dizzying kiss. “Through this alley and we’ll be there in 2 minutes.”

“You shouldn’t walk through alleys,” he said before giving you another kiss. You pulled him along.

“I think I’m fine with you.” You said kissing him before walking some more.

“Okay but still. Alleys are dangerous.” He answered before you placed another kiss on his lips.

“Yeah, and we’re out of the alley now,” you said. “And here’s my building,” you said suddenly shy. You didn’t want your neighbors seeing you kissing some random guy. Especially one obviously rich like Tim. He probably didn’t even know he stuck out. You pulled away from him.

You unlocked the door and quietly offered for him to walk in. Where did your boldness go? Tim stepped in and you thanked your stars that you had cleaned up that morning.

“Do you want a drink?” You asked as you shut the door. Tim hung his coat on a coat rack that had come with the places. He shook his head and walked over to you. His eyes looked over your body like he wanted to eat you.

“What do you want?” You whispered. He looked down at you with dark eyes. His lips were red from your kissing.

“You?” He said more as a question. Can I have you?

“Hmm,” you said with a little smirk before pulling him down by the collar to kiss more. Tim’s hands roamed your body, gentle at first and then more aggressive.

You knew you shouldn’t bring a man home. Not a one night stand. Especially because you were grieving. Emotional. But as dusk fell outside your window and his hands held you firmly, you couldn’t help but be grateful that he was chasing your ghosts away. He leaned over your in bed, his lips pressed against your collarbone as he fingered you.

“Do you have condoms?” He breathed against your skin in a rough voice.

“Bedside table, top drawer,” you answered. Tim reached over to grab one. “Are you sure? Do you want this?” He asked, holding it in hand.

“Yes,” you said taking the condom to roll it on yourself. Tim breathed out quickly as you jerked a few times before sliding it on. He leaned over you and carefully looked over your face before sliding in.

You arched into his touch as he moved. His touch was soft, sweet, cautious. But not in the way anyone in your life treated you. There was no pity. You weren’t a broken doll to be tiptoed around. He was grieving too. His movement sped up as you both got closer and you got out of your head.

You softly moaned his name as you came. Tim groaned before resting his forehead against yours as he finished. He pulled out and threw the condom away. He pulled on his boxers but didn’t seem to know what to do next.

“Stay,” you said and he looked at you surprised.

“Are you sure?”

“Just-just tonight. I hate sleeping alone,” you said, feeling small. The idea of him leaving had the place feel colder, darker. Tim seemed to deliberate in his head before nodding.

“I can stay just tonight,” he said and you weren’t quite sure if he was telling you or himself. He climbed in bed and you scooted closer. He laid on his side and you slid closer to spoon. It was comforting to hear another heartbeat and feel the warmth of a body. It’d been months since you’d had that. Even if it was just one night, you didn’t feel alone. It felt secure and you quickly fell asleep.

You woke up to the unfamiliar but pleasant sensation of laying on a man’s chest wrapped up tight in blankets. A steady heartbeat and warm skin was soothing in the early morning light. You almost drifted off to sleep to the sounds of his breathing when you saw her.

A ghost. A woman in her late 30s or early 40s in conservative upper class women clothing that wasn’t too out of date. She had her arms crossed over her chest and she looked down at you both in disapproval. Her nose looked like Tim’s and she had the same black straight hair as he did.

You gulped and tried to blink her away. That worked some times. Not today. It was weird to see her anyways. Wasn’t it his make best friend that died? Who was she? She stepped closer and you stiffened. She was self-aware and was trying to speak to you. A very determined ghost indeed.

Tim moved in his sleep as if he could sense her presence. She reached out her hand as if she wanted to push the hair back on his forehead. You gasped as she moved closer. What kind of fucking ghost...? Tim woke up and she disappeared with a pop.

“You okay? You look scared or something,” he said in a rough pretty morning voice. You debated answering him truthfully that he was haunted by a mean looking woman but decided against it. He was a one night thing right?

“Nothing. Go back to sleep,” you said and he nuzzled closer.

“Hmm I’d rather have breakfast,” he muttered kissing your neck. You flushed. You hadn’t bothered shopping in a while.

“I don’t really- my fridge is-“

“Not the kind I’m talking about,” Tim said gently pushing you to your back.

“Oh,” you said as he slid beneath the sheets. You certainly weren’t complaining as he kissed down your body. He was good at it but it was also a great tactile distraction. Ghosts weren’t there when you were far to busy to see them.

It’s a little different so let me know what you think.

#batboy x reader #Tim drake x reader #Red Robin x reader #Tim drake smut #Red Robin smut #Tim drake angst #Red Robin angst

[vixenpen]

Dabi smut with a teacher. Like in some quirkless au or something (He’s scarless but hella pierced and tatted), he had to pick up kid!Shoto one day and he sees his hot black teacher (Sis got thickness and curves for days, even in simple clothes) So he consistently picks up Shoto (even when he doesn’t have to) just to hit on her and when he finally scores a date with her, he’s at his limit after seeing her in casual wear and how amazing her personality is.

I LOVED this request. I had so much fun writing it and the details were amazing! I hope you enjoy

Hot For Teacher (Dabi x Black Reader) Quirkless AU

“Ah, come on kid,” Dabi sighed, expelling a stream of smoke as he waited at the curb for his baby brother to get out of school.

He rolled down the window to air out the car and watched the stream of middle schoolers burst through the double doors and head to their respective busses or cars.

“Shooo,” Dabi groaned, “where are you? I got shit to do, kid.”

He enjoyed hanging out with his youngest sibling, and he had no problem picking the kid up, but he also had a business to help run. If he didn’t get back to the shop in an hour and a half like he’d promised Hawks, he’d get an earful about responsibility and time management and blah, blah, blah.

He leaned back in the driver seat, deciding to give Shoto another fifteen minutes before he texted the kid.

Just then another wave of kids exited the building, Dabi’s bright blue eyes scanned them before landing on the finest woman he’d ever seen in his life.

Her cream colored silk blouse popped beautifully against her rich brown skin and a pair of slacks hugged her wide hips. Her makeup made her dark eyes sparkle and red lipstick painted her pouty mouth.

Dabi sat up, turquoise eyes running up and down that beautiful body of hers as the sexy teacher strutted past to talk to parents and wave good bye to students. When she turned around, his eyes slid down to the fattest ass he’d ever seen and he licked his lips.

Damn it must be hard as hell for her students to concentrate in class.

She turned again and began walking back towards the school. Fuck! If he didn’t stop gawking he would miss his chance. He couldn’t let that happen.

Holding his cigarette between his lips, Dabi quickly stepped out of the car and took leggy strides to catch up with the teacher.

“Excuse me.”

She turned around, her big dark eyes landing on him. Immediately Dabi knew she was sizing him up and wasn’t impressed. She gave that same disapproving teacher look Fuyumi gave whenever she was put off by someone.

Regardless, he flashed her his most charming smile. He may not be a goody two shoes like these other khaki wearing dads out here, but he knew he looked damn better than any of them.

“Sorry to bother you ma’am. I was just hoping you could help me out.”

“Sure,” she smiled back, showing off a pair of pretty white teeth. “Let’s start with that cigarette. It’s against our school policy to be smoking on the premises so if you could.” She cocked a brow expectantly.

Dabi cocked his own pierced brow back in response, but quickly stubbed out his cigarette on a nearby janitor’s cart and threw it away in the accompanying trash can.

Her smile widened. “Great. Now, how can I help you?”

Dabi chuckled. “Well, ya see, I just got this new phone and cleared out all my old contacts. Ya know, new year, new me and all that,” he shrugged, “anyway, my contacts are pretty empty now. So, I was wondering if I could get yours.”

She let out a little snort of amusement.

“That’s your pick up line? How many Girls have had the misfortune of hearing that one?”

“You’d be the first,” Dabi smirked back. “Figured the usual ‘hey beautiful, what’s your name’ line wouldn’t exactly help me stand out.”

“Trust me, you don’t need help standing out.” She replied, eying him again.

“Then that means I’m ahead of the game, right?” He held out a hand, “I’m Dabi.”

Tentatively, the teacher shook it. “Ms. Y/n.”

“Ms. Y/n, huh...” Dabi repeated slowly, his eyes ran over you with a barely masked longing. “Not ‘Mrs’?”

“Not yet.” You replied.

“How soon are you looking to change that?” Dabi asked, his smirk growing a bit smaller and more intimate.

“Who said I was looking to change it at all?”

“Certainly not me,” he replied, “that’s why I asked. I would love to talk more about how much you don’t want to change it over dinner sometime though.”

You fended off a smile. You were not about to give this over confident asshole any encouragement.

“Sorry, but I make it a point not to date my student’s parents.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not a parent then.”

“Oh? So you just like to stroll on the campuses of random middle schools and hit on the teachers for fun?”

Dabi chuckled again.

“I’m here to pick up my little brother. Ah, hell, speaking of which, I actually could use your help with that. Kid hasn’t come out yet and I’ve already been here over half an hour.”

Your pretty face immediately crumpled with worry.

“What’s your brother’s name?”

“Todoroki Shoto.”

“Oh!” You looked surprised. “Shoto. I think I saw him headed towards the baseball field. I think the team has practice today.”

“Dammit! Really? Well, I better go say hi to the kid anyway. You mind, uh, leading the way?”

“Sure.” You shrugged.

Turning, you took the lead and guided Dabi towards the baseball diamond behind the school. You could feel the man’s eyes on your ass the whole way, and couldn’t help but put an extra switch in your hips as you did. Much to his appreciation.

You had to admit the man was fine as hell. The black undercut with lines cut in the side, his multiple piercings and even the colorful tattoos you saw peeking from under his fitted black tshirt were hot as hell. However, you had long since given up on bad boy types. You preferred nerds. Still a little light flirting wouldn’t hurt anything, right?

“There he is.” Dabi stated once the two of you verged on the field. He held up his hands to his mouth and called out: “Yo, Sho!”

The boy looked up, heterochromatic eyes widening in surprise.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had practice today you little half and half?”

“Why don’t you ever check mom’s texts?” Shoto shouted back. “She told you to come later.”

You snickered as Dabi pulled out his phone and checked his text messages.

“Huh. Well I’ll be damned.” He muttered to himself. “Alright, kiddo, I’ll be back in an hour!”

“Can you stop shouting and leave now?! I have to concentrate.”

Dabi laughed before turning back to you.

“Anyway, thanks a lot for your help Ms. Y/n.”

“Just doing my job.”

“Still, I would love to thank you properly. Maybe over coffee.” He said, sounding hopeful.

“Before it was dinner.” You quipped, playfully.

“I know. I‘m just planning for future dates.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “It was nice meeting you, Dabi.” With that you turned and strutted off.

“I hope you know I’m gonna keep trying until I get a yes or no.” He called after you.

As you entered the school’s back entrance you could hear Shoto shouting: “Can you please stop hitting on my teachers? I have to see them everyday!”

Unfortunately for Shoto, his plea seemed to go in one overly pierced ear and out the other because almost everyday since then, Dabi made it a point to stop and talk to you when he came to pick up Shoto.

“Hey there, Ms. Y/n. My contacts are filling up fast. You sure you don’t wanna reserve a spot?”

“Sorry Dabi, but my no dating policy extends to immediate family members as well.”

“I hated to cancel our reservations, but you’re left me no choice, Ms. Y/n.”

“Nobody told you to make reservations, Dabi.”

“Dinner was lonely the other day. If only I had a beautiful black queen to keep me company.”

“I’m sure There are plenty of black queens out there that would have loved to accompanying you to dinner.”

“Yeah, but they wouldn’t have been you.”

Dabi was unrelenting. Always complimenting how amazing your outfits looked on your skin tone, how flattering your make up was, or if you wore a new hairstyle or new jewelry.

You couldn’t lie. The attention was both flattering and refreshing. Since becoming a teacher, you usually only got hit on by studious academic types. Attractive yes, but straight laced and all the same with their game

Unfortunately a disturbing amount of married dads also tried their luck with you.

But Dabi was different.

He may have been a far cry from your usual type, but he was always perfectly respectful and even funny. Not to mention he was much closer to your own age than other men that came on to you.

He must have started bribing Shoto for help or asking him about your interests too. Because sometimes when he would see you, he’d have a new book to give you or your favorite iced tea from a cafe you always frequented. Which, admittedly, was pretty damn cute.

The tatted up alt boy was actually growing on you. So one day, when both of you least expected it, you finally agreed to give him your number and go on a date.

That was the first time you ever saw him straight up smile. Not smirk or grin. He actually beamed. Just like a little boy who’d been told he could have a puppy.

Ok, ok. You admit it—he was cute.

Hopefully, that charm would extend over to dinner.

When the big date came, Dabi cleaned himself up. Opting out of his usual dark attire for a deep blue fitted Ralph Lauren polo and skinny khakis. He even took out some of his piercings in an attempt to look more presentable. He thought he cleaned up pretty nice if he did say so himself, but it was nothing compared to what you strutted in wearing.

Dabi had gotten used to your stylish but conservative work attire. He was so used to your hot teacher look, that he forgot you probably had some regular clothes in that amazing wardrobe of yours.

And damn did you pick out the most show stopping dress you had. You wore a wine colored dress that cut low in the front showing off those juicy tits of yours and stopped above the knee. The heels you wore made your thighs look even yummier and your ass was jiggling out of control with every step.

Down boy. Down boy. Down boy.

He scolded himself.

“Well, don’t you clean up nicely, Dabi?” You teased.

“I’m Touya tonight, beautiful.” He struck a pose like a GQ model. You laughed. “Dabi was that guy that kept hitting on you, Touya’s the guy that’s gonna try not to screw it up.

“Oh,” you ran a manicured finger along his solid chest, “well, I agreed to a date with Dabi, but I guess Touya could be fun too.”

Dabi licked his lip, and your eyes fell on his tongue piercing, hungrily.

“Depending on how well the night goes, you might see Dabi come out later tonight.” He replied, suggestively.

You rolled your eyes, but could feel your cheeks (and your pussy) warming.

“Boy! Come on.”

Dabi as Touya opened the door to the restaurant and ushered you inside.

The restaurant he took you to was definitely a high end place; complete with soft candle light, a jazz quartet, and a maître d’.

The chemistry the two of you had definitely translated over dinner.

Dabi was just as funny as he always was and he was genuinely interested in getting to know everything about you. He hung on to your every word about the funny things your students did in class. He enjoyed hearing your college stories. He even knew some of the books you enjoyed reading and could talk literature easily.

You discovered that he was the co-owner of a tattoo and piercing shop. He was the oldest of his siblings. And he enjoyed traveling and learning new things.

Dabi enjoyed vibing with you. He loved that your personality and sense of humor was just as amazing and substantial as that body he wanted a piece of so bad.

Dinner rolled into drinks and lasted well into the night. By the time the two of you were done it was damn near four A.M.

From that night on, you and Dabi became practically inseparable. He picked you up from school right along with Shoto for dinner after work, swung by with coffee, bought you any and everything you wanted (he does come from money after all) and after a year of dating, you became more than just a ‘Ms.’

Pt.2

#dabi x black!reader #dabi x reader #flirting #first dates #bnha fluff #my hero academia #bnha imagines #bnha #bnha scenarios #my hero fanfic #bnha headcanons #dabi scenarios #touya todoroki #mha headcanons #black writers #curvy reader

[minachuuu]

Itzy Reaction to their S/O being Covered in Tattoos

This was my first request for an Itzy reaction and I was so excited because I love those girls so much, I hope you enjoy it!💜✨

Yeji

There was something about you that didn't let her eyes leave your silhouette, sitting across her, all the way at the opposite side of the cafe. Dressed entirely in black, a leather jacket draping around you brought in the exact pinch of mystery that called Yeji's attention. 

But just exactly as she was taking a sip of her iced tea, you had the fantastic idea of taking the leather jacket off, revealing your arms and neckline to be covered with various tattoos, your black shirt hiding so much more. Let's say that Yeji's body forgot how to deal with liquids at that moment, spraying everything over Ryujin, Lia and herself, making the few people around turn around to face them, including you. If she was nervous to talk to you before, now the nerves had doubled adding embarrassment to the mix. 

Standing up to the bathroom to clean herself, Yeji didn't notice you entering a few seconds behind her. She jumped startled when she recognized you, but you approached her with a smile. 

"Ah bummer, your shirt isn't going to dry quickly," You pointed at the obvious, your voice trembling.  You extended your hand, offering her your leather jacket. "Here, use this." 

She nodded, shyly taking the jacket from you. She agreed if you allowed her to buy you a pastry and you accepted with a chuckle. Both of you also found the perfect excuse to ask for your phone numbers. You know, only to return your jacket later. 

Add time to the mixture, and Yeji still doesn't understand exactly how one of the most embarrassing moments in her life brought the most amazing person into her life. 

Now, in the private comfort of your nights together, sometimes when you take your shirt off, she'll embrace you from behind, losing herself watching all the amazing illustrations engraved in your skin, gently caressing her fingers through them. 

Lia

By Chaeryeong's recommendation, this was finally the day that Jisu decided to go and take a walk in the park. But her stroll was interrupted when she heard the soft sound of a guitar playing close to her. She followed the music and directed her to you, who was peacefully sitting on a park bench, playing with chords and strumming patterns. But what caught her attention even more, was the sun lighting up such a variety of colors and pictures all painted across what she was able to see from your body. 

Even if you looked kind of hard to approach, you still awaked a fair amount of interest in Jisu, so she breathed in enough courage to talk to you, approaching slowly. 

"That sounds beautiful!" She tucked one strand of hair in her ear as she fidgeted with her hands. Her eyes tenderly scanning every drawing all over your body, prompted your cheeks to turn bright red. "Is it your song?" 

"Thank you!" You smiled, suddenly awakening something new in Jisu's heart. "It is mine, but I still can't get the lyrics right."

Bingo. She latched from that to make a conversation, offering herself to help you write. You couldn't help but notice how she couldn't stop looking at your tattoos, sometimes completely ignoring what you were saying. A great friendship sparked between you two from that moment on, but day by day, Jisu couldn't keep ignoring the butterflies in her stomach everytime she lost herself in the colorful collage that was your skin. 

So now that you two finally stopped ignoring your feelings towards each other and started dating, don't be surprised if she begs you to use more sleeveless shirts, crop tops, or tries to keep you from putting a shirt on as much as she can when you're alone. Jisu can’t help it, she just finds you a walking work of art, one that makes her go *keyboard smash* all the time. 

Ryujin

Ryujin doesn't really like to be told what to do, so she wasn't really amused by the idea of having someone unknown review her own choreography. But then you walked through the door, and she couldn't understand exactly how to feel about it. Your dark makeup and clothing, covered in tons of tattoos made her heart do flips in all directions, and she couldn't settle on feeling afraid, excited, intimidated or amazed. 

All this confusion made the usually confident and witty Ryujin all flustered as she couldn't even focus on the notes that you gave to her because her eyes refused to leave the illustrations engraved in your body. She only nodded at all your words, convincing herself that it was just fear what you aroused inside of her. 

But she was quickly proved wrong by her own thoughts, as you didn't seem to leave her mind at all; your eyes, your lips, the way your body moved, and especially, every drawing that was painted across your skin.

The next day, Ryujin opened the door and her eyes landed on you, calling all those feelings back in her. You glanced at her reflection through the mirror, smiling at her dumbfounded expression. 

"Oh hey Ryujin! I'm glad you could make it." You turned around, grabbing a little paper bag and handling it to her. "I bought some cookies and a coffee for you, hope you like them!" 

Right there, she melted on the inside. The cute gesture helped get her confidence back, making this rehearsal a blatant back and forth of pure flirting. 

It all grew up to become an amazing relationship, were one of your hobbies is to combine Ryujin's audacious attitude and your threatening appearance to prank people (Mostly Ryujin's groupmates, who are we kidding), but behind closed doors, no one could imagine that the most intimidating couple was all lovey-dovey with each other. 

Chaeryeong 

Look, Chaeryeong isn't one to judge people based on their appearance. She didn't mind that you were covered in tattoos at all, but how can she help it when you're known as the stone cold, intimidating, serious and bossy member of your group? And most of all, how was she supposed to breath now that you were standing right in the same practice room as her? Could you two be friends? Would you like her? Maybe find her cute? But what if you weren't her type? 

Your group and Itzy were collabing for a special stage at a music award show and she couldn't stop staring at you through the mirror, your stoic expression as you reviewed the steps of the choreography. She found her eyes straying to the rest of your body over and over again, tracing your tattoos in her mind, wondering how it felt to touch them. 

The rehearsal came to a break and you dropped over the couch, your members surrounding you. Chaeryeong kept staring from the other side of the room, but was a bit taken aback when, amid conversation, you let out the most gentle chuckle she had ever seen. In general, it was the first time she had ever seen you smile. Impressed by how your amiable aura wasn't going down either, she convinced Ryujin to help her approach you. 

Turns out, your stoic personality was mostly just a concept that you acted for the cameras, but the softer, more real side of you was what cemented her crush over you, especially contrasted with your threatening, and frankly quite attractive looks. Luckily for her, you did find her really cute, and you kept in touch after the awards, allowing much more to flourish between you two. 

Now that you two are happily in a relationship, she doesn't throw away the chance to relish on your tougher side either, running to the safety of your decorated arms every time she needs to forget the world around her. 

Yuna

You first met Yuna in a queue in an amusement park, when you were waiting to get on a ride. You were chatting with your group of friends when she caught your attention, and apparently it was mutual, since she kept staring at you and your few visible tattoos in your arms and neck. You chuckled at her wide eyes, as she locked them with yours. But she wasn't shying away from you. She instantly waved at you with a wide smile, nearing you. Yuna introduced herself, along with Yeji and Ryujin who were going on the ride as well. 

She wasn't afraid to start asking about your tattoos and their meanings, and honestly you didn't mind answering them either. Most of them were new, and you proudly showed them off to someone willing to listen. After a good while chatting and your mutual crush being obvious to everyone around, you both agreed on going up the ride together, since both your groups were in the odd numbers. 

From that day on, an amazing friendship grew between you two, and Yuna never lost the habit of asking for a meaning everytime that you got a new tattoo. Except for one day, where she pointed out one that didn't have any particular explanations, you just had tattooed it because it looked pretty and cool. Yuna nodded silently at the answer, lost in her own thoughts for some minutes. 

"What do you think about tattooing my face?" She blurted out, staring lost at the horizon. 

"Wha-" You blinked, startled out at the sudden question. 

"I am pretty and cool too!" She turned around, not an ounce of a joke in her voice. 

You couldn't help but giggle in response, the way she wasn't afraid to be herself just allowed your crush on her to keep growing everyday. Always enjoying each other's company, you were both excited at the idea of being something more in the future. 

#itzy imagines #itzy scenarios #itzy reactions #girl group imagines #girl group reactions #itzy yeji #itzy lia #itzy ryujin #itzy chaeryeong #itzy yuna

[doubleleoenergy]

iv. Lolita, Lolita Series

Hey Lolita, hey! Hey Lolita, hey! I know what the boys want, I'm not gonna play.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: bestfriendsdad!Andy Barber x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of alcohol, mentions of relationship violence, oral (female receiving), pet names, dirty talk

Words: 2240

Summary: Andy’s falling at y/n’s feet, just like all the other boys before.

Six days. It had been six agonizing days since their encounter at the club, and Andy Barber was losing his cool. The nightly, and sometimes midday, jerkoff sessions weren’t quite enough to satisfy his hunger.

Things with y/n had been the same, as if their little blowjob fest hadn’t happened. They continued to carpool to the office, continued to be friendly back at home, and y/n continued to tease him as always. She’d wear her tight and barely there clothing around the house and the office and had even started walking around in her towel after her showers. Andy didn’t mind the view, and neither did the boys, stuttering and stammering at the sight of her. But again, it wasn’t enough. 

That morning y/n greeted him with another breakfast and coffee before work, donning a black long sleeve crop top with a slit across to give him the view of just a bit of cleavage. Her light denim jeans were practically painted on her body, her perky ass bouncing with each step in her black strappy heels.

“You look good, y/n. As always.” Andy commented, taking a sip of his coffee. He thought a bit of flirting might help his case of getting closer to his little Lolita, though she didn’t seem phased by the compliment.

“Thanks Andy, we should get going. I’m shadowing you with your clients today, remember?” Her internship had been stellar, learning valuable information about the field and her future career. The only problem occasionally was Neal, who tended to linger too long at her desk and always stared down her shirt as he talked. Normally she would put the man in her place, but it offered a good source of jealousy from Andy, which she couldn’t pass up.

Their ride to the office was filled with conversation as Andy briefed her on their clients for the day, y/n taking notes in her notebook of all the critical details. Though she probably wouldn’t need the notes, she had read over the client’s files for the past two days in anticipation.

Y/N sashayed down the hall in front of Andy to his office, and he watched her ass the entire time she moved, trying not to pop a boner before the workday even started. After arriving at the office door and unlocking it, the two got comfortable for their first client of the day.

“Are you nervous?” Andy questioned, eyes focusing intently on her.

“Of course not. I’m just eager to please.” Her tone was heavy with seduction, lips curving into a huge smile when Andy shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

By the time they had finished up with their clients for the day it was nine o’clock, a much later day at the office for them since y/n had started her internship. The two were both starving since lunch, stomachs growling as they headed home for the evening.

“Jacob said he and the boys are going to see a midnight movie showing after the bar, won’t be back till late.” Y/N announced, fingers typing out a quick reply to Jacob.

“Alright, are you interested in going out for some food? I think it’s way too late to start cooking something. We can go to that Mexican restaurant up the street from the house if you want.” Andy suggested, glancing over at y/n as he parked the car in the driveway.

“That’s fine, let me go change really quick and then we can go.” Y/N walked straight through the garage doors and up into her room, getting herself refreshed for dinner. Andy decided to change as well, pulling on a pair of dark denim jeans and a grey Henley long-sleeved shirt that accentuated his muscles. He was honestly hoping that y/n might consider this a date but given how she seemed to avoid any movement in their relationship, it seemed unlikely.

Andy scrolled through his email on his cell phone, leaning against the kitchen counter as she walked down the stairs. His eyes met hers before traveling down to the tight burgundy floral mini dress, the thin spaghetti straps barely holding in her braless breasts as they poked out slightly above the fabric. Andy’s eyes continued lower to the slit in the dress, staring at where the slit hit mid-thigh and ended right at her hip bone. Was she not wearing any underwear?

“Okay, I’m ready.” Y/N’s black stilettos clicked against the hardwood as she made her way towards the door, headed towards his car once again. Andy trailed behind, his eyes roaming over her backside while his cock stirred in his jeans.

The restaurant was less than a mile from the house, a quick drive for them both, which was a relief considering how hungry they both were. The waitress came up shortly after they sat, a young perky blonde who seemed to be a little extra attentive to Andy, though he didn’t pay any attention to her. He was too busy watching y/n scanning the menu, chewing her bottom lip as she figured out what to eat.

“I’ll have a Coors Light and a southwest salad, please.” Y/N’s voice was soft as she spoke to the waitress.

“I’ll have a Coors as well with the street taco trio. Thank you.” Andy handed over their menus before returning his attention back to y/n. “Did you like sitting in on the meetings today?” He asked, leaning back in his seat.

“Definitely, it’s nice to fully see the process at work. Usually I’m filing the paperwork after a meeting, but today gave me the chance to start from the initial meeting to the filing.” The waitress arrived with their drinks as she finished her sentence, taking a long swig from her beer.

“I’m glad. We make a good team, don’t you think?” Andy had to admit, she was the most impressive intern they’d had since he started there. But the question isn’t just about work, hinting at the possibility of them together.

“We’re alright.” She responded, shrugging her shoulders. Andy sighed, six days of waiting to figure out anything between them was torture, just like the mind games she was playing with him now. His thoughts are briefly interrupted by the arrival of their meal, using the break in their conversation to consider his next words carefully. It was like he was building a case as he had done hundreds of times at work, though this case was a bit higher stake for him.

“Look, in the club I know I said we couldn’t do this...do us.” Good start, Andy-boy. “But we’re both adults as you said. It’s not weird, unless we make it weird, and if we keep things private for a while so as not to hurt Jacob...why don’t we give it a try? Us, I mean.”

Y/N chewed thoughtfully on her meal, listening to his case and reflecting on his words. “I’m not a relationship girl, you know that.” The thought of being in a committed relationship with anyone terrified her, a trigger from her family trauma. What happens if Andy is kind at first, but later turns into a monster like her father? Would she really want to end up like her mom? No thank you.

“I do know that, but I also know that there’s something between us, y/n. You can’t deny that. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have done what you had.” Andy retorted, taking a bite of his tacos.

“Everything I do is because I want to do it.” She declared, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest. “A relationship is different, Andy. Why tie yourself down to someone? It’s not like it ever lasts, you should know that firsthand.” She’s referring to his divorce, the thought that Andy even wanted to be committed to someone else after that was confusing.

“Maybe that’s true, or maybe we’re just waiting for the right person to change our minds.” He’s leaning on the table now, his eyes locked on hers to gauge her reactions.

Y/N’s eyebrow raises at his response, her head tilting to the side. “And you’re trying to say that I’m that right person?” Her eyes roll back into her head, straightening her body and digging back into her meal. “You’re thinking a little too highly after one hookup.”

Andy knows they’re going in circles with the conversation and so he drops it, finishing up their meals in silence and not protesting when y/n asks to split the bill. Definitely not a date.

The ride back to the house is uncomfortably silent, y/n playing Candy Crush on her phone to distract herself from any further talk about a relationship. Y/N is about to go up the stairs to her room when they arrive, but Andy stops her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back over to him.

“What are you doing?” She asks, brows furrowed as her eyes meet his blue hues. Andy tugs her closer by her waist in response to her question, lips hovering inches away.

“Think about it, we’d be good together, you can’t deny that.” And with that Andy is leaning in, pressing his lips passionately against y/n’s own. Without any hesitation y/n reciprocates the kiss, hands instinctively wrapping around his neck to pull him in closer, if that was even possible.

Their lips dance together in the perfect rhythm for a moment before Andy breaks the kiss to pepper wet kisses to the flesh on y/n’s neck. She rolls her head to one side to give him better access, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck when he nibbles on a sensitive spot. She lets him continue for a moment before pushing him gently off her, confusing laced across his face.

Y/N’s heels click against the hardwood as she starts walking down the hallway towards his bedroom door, stopping right in front of it and looking back at Andy, a cocky grin spreading across her swollen lips.

“I think it’s time you return the favor from the other night.” And with that she slips into his bedroom, Andy following quickly on her heels and shutting the door behind them. He watches, eyes blown wide, as she saunters over to the bed, sitting right on the edge of it. She leans her body back, her weight against her elbows, opening her legs to reveal her bare core, her heels firmly placed on the floor in front of the bed for balance.

“Don’t just stand there and stare, Andy. Get to work.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, practically crawling across the room, his knees hitting the soft carpet a foot away from her outstretched legs. His strong hands move from her knees up her thighs, pushing her dress up to her stomach to reveal her wet heat to him.

It was glistening like diamonds, just as beautiful as the rest of her body. He rests his hands on each of her inner thighs, pushing her legs slightly wider and locking his eyes with hers as he leans forward and licks a strip up her slit. His first taste of her is incredible, better than he could’ve imagined, and he wastes no time on diving in further, lapping at her core.

Andy’s beard tickles her pussy as he works his tongue into her, sending shivers down her spine. Her fingers instinctively grab at his hair, her grip tightening whenever he lapped at a spot that made her moan. She kept her eyes on him the entire time, loving the way he looked between her legs. She could get used to this.

Andy moved his head back, his pointer and middle finger rubbing against her wet folds before they dive in, curling deep and releasing a satisfied moan from her lips. “Your pussy is so pretty, so wet and delicious. My little Lolita.” There goes the pet name from the other night, though it was quite fitting for her.

His fingers find a good rhythm inside her, eliciting the prettiest moans from her lips. His cock is painfully hard in his jeans, though he knows right now it is all about her pleasure. He can tell her orgasm is building, moving his face back to suck at her clit while his fingers keep their pace in and out of her dripping core.

Her walls start to tighten, y/n seeing stars as she feels that familiar buildup in her stomach, tightening her grip on his hair. Andy’s eyes lock back on hers, a seductive smirk spreading across his lips.

“Let go, Lolita. Cum for me.” And just like that her orgasm rips through her, her walls tightening around his fingers as she pushes his face flush against her folds, allowing him to lap up her release.

She’s shaking by the time he pulls away, his beard covered in her slick, the sight alone giving her a sense of pride and ownership over him.

“That was incredible.” Y/N announces, adjusting her dress and standing back up, stepping towards the door of the bedroom. Andy’s jaw drops, his cock twitching as she walks away. “Where are you going? I’m hard as a rock right now.”

Y/N stops to look at him, her eyes trailing to the bulge in his jeans, shrugging her shoulders. “Guess you’ll have to jerk off to your fantasies of me as always.” And with that she opens the door and exits the bedroom, leaving Andy kneeling with frustration against the carpet.

Tagging those who may be interested. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list: @midnightf @my-divine-death @saamwilsonn @fierylibraa @fuckandfluff​ @rattlemyb0nes​ @rootcrop @goldenboysteve​  @turtoix​  @jeremyrennermakesmesmile​  @ccmarvelxx ​

#doubleleoenergyseries: lolita #DLE Series: Lolita #andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber smut #andy barber x reader smut #andy barber x female reader

[peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology]

The Angel Nextdoor

Pairing: Artist!Tom Holland x Reader

A/N: This is the first Tom fic I’ve ever posted and I’m a little nervous, but I’m really proud of it. I hope you guys really like it, I’d love to hear your feedback. Now, this is my Valentine’s day special, and I know what you’re thinking, “Ashley, how can you post a Valentine’s say special on February 15th? It doesn’t make any sense.”. But to that I say, you’ve just never seen this kind of innovation, I’m an artist and I have to take risks like this sometimes. I hope you can understand, love you all xx

Summary: Tom’s latest assignment might just give him the push he needs to finally confess his feelings. 

Masterlist

Promt list

//

“This is the handout for your final, we’re going to talk about it more next class, but for now just look this over and start brainstorming,” Ms. Miller passed a stack of papers down the row with a smile, “You’ll have a full month to work on it so I expect really polished pieces for this.”

Tom glanced over the requirements before settling at the prompt.

‘Paint someone close to you (friend, family member, significant other, ect…) in the style of their favorite artist or painting.’

It seemed simple enough, and he could think of a handful of people to ask. Definitely not family, he didn’t want to travel home and back that frequently. He could ask Harrison, and he was sure he would say yes, but there was one person who really stuck out in his mind. It was (y/n) of course, who better to paint than the most beautiful person in the world? And could anyone really expect an artist like him not to want to paint the object of her affection? Of course actually doing it was a different story. Asking her to let him paint her was a daunting task, one Tom was sure he couldn’t complete. So he was going to paint Harrison.

“Try to come to class with a narrowed down list of who you may end up painting, you’ll need to know for sure by Friday,” Ms. Miller sighed as the class began packing up, “I’ll see you all on Wednesday.”

Tom shoved everything in his bag and went straight for the dinning hall, where he was supposed to meet Harrison and (y/n) for lunch. He debated again trying to ask her, but quickly shoved the thought from his mind. She had inspired his work before certainly, it was inevitable that she’d inspire him, or her image would wander to his mind when he was working, but he had never painted her. Of course he wanted to paint her directly, but it was intimate, it always felt wrong to do without her permission. Just asking to paint her surely would have revealed his feelings too, something he wanted to do on his own terms, when he was ready, with concrete proof that she liked him back and he wouldn’t embarrass himself.

“That’s not a happy face,” Harrison hummed as Tom sat down in front of him, “Bad grade or something?”

“No, we just got our final already,” he sighed, letting his bag fall besides him.

“Already?”

He nodded, “Yeah, she wants it to be really polished.”

“Does it seem really hard?”

“It’s nothing I can’t do, I’m gonna need your help though.”

“I’m sorry, you’ve seen me paint before right?”

Tom rolled his eyes, “Obviously not with that. I’m just supposed to paint someone close to me and I don’t want to drive home every other day so I was gonna ask if I could paint you.”

Harrison knit his brow in confusion, “Why wouldn’t you ask (y/n)?”

Tom flushed, “Absolutely not.”

“Why not? You two would get to spend a lot of time together, alone. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Yes, and I’d like to paint her, but it’s so intimate. I want to be the one to tell her I like her, not a painting. Plus she could say no and then I’d never be able to show my face in public again.”

“There is no way she would say no,” Harrison rolled her eyes, “Just ask her, she’d be happy to help and you might just finally see that she’s into you. Then I can stop watching you two pine over one another.”

“No, just drop it,” Tom ordered, spotting (y/n) approaching their table, “Don’t say anything to her.”

“Hey boys,” she smiled as she sat besides Tom, “How were classes?”

“Mine were fine, Tom’s already getting his finals though.”

Tom shot him a glare while she sighed, “That’s brutal, I’m sorry Tom.”

“I’ll survive,” he hummed, “It’s not anything too rough.”

“What is it?” she asked curiously.

“Just painting someone I know,” his cheeks dusted pink, “Nothing too hard.”

“Too bad I can’t help you out with it more,” Harrison bit his cheek, “Maybe (y/n) could pose for you.”

Tom decided he’d have to push Harrison out their dorm window when they got home. 

“Oh yeah, I don’t mind,” she smiled kindly to him.

“It’s okay, it’s probably going to take me awhile and I know you’re busy, I can just ask one of my brothers,” he insisted.

“And drive home every other day? That’s ridiculous, I’ll just do it.”

Tom sucked in a deep breath, trying to decide quickly what the right decision to make was. But he was a painter, he couldn’t give up the chance to paint something so perfect in good conscience, and he didn’t really want to say no either.

“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” he smiled to her.

“No problem. So what do I need to do?”

“I’m supposed to paint you in the style of your favorite artist, or painting.”

“Well…” she tapped her lip thoughtfully, “Oh, they guy that painted those little cupids, and he did that Birth of Venus you showed me with all the cupids in it, I really liked his stuff. What was his name again?”

“William-Adolphe Bouguereau,” Tom pursed his lips, “I could do that, it’s not too far off from what I like to do anyway.”

“Cool, I guess I should start practicing my poses then?”

He chuckled, “No, we’ll just do something comfortable for you,” he bit the inside of his cheek, “There’s a bit of planning to do first, like what you’re gonna wear and the colors I’m gonna use, and sketching, I’ll just need a few days.”

“Well why don’t you come over and we can raid my closet? Maybe I can help with some of the other stuff too.”

Harrison was smiling like a proud dad when Tom glanced over at him, “Um, yeah, that would be good, I could come over after class Wednesday?”

“It’s a date.”

/

“I laid out some clothes already,” (y/n) smiled to Tom as she led him to her room, “I mean you’ll know better than me, but I tried to pick some things I thought would paint well.”

“Thanks, I was thinking something really simple would be best,” he began examining the clothes on her bed, smiling when he spotted the same white, babydoll dress she liked to wear whenever it got hot, “How about this one? It has that sort of angelic feel.”

She picked up the dress and held it against her, “It’s the comfiest too.”

He laughed, “Well that one for sure then. Next would be location, and I know you really like L'Amour et Psyché, enfants, so I thought it would be nice to have you sitting on a cloud to reference that.”

“Whatever you think is best Tom, you’re the artist,” she hummed, “I think that sounds nice though.”

“I think we’ll do that then. Do you want to toss the dress on so we can run through some poses?”

She nodded and Tom stepped outside, allowing her a moment to change. He’d thought about the painting all night, sketching out different poses and swatching colors he wanted to try. The anger he’d felt towards Harrison at lunch had faded almost instantly to excitement. He’d hung out with her a million times before, but he usually let his nerves get the best of him if things started getting flirty. Painting always relaxed him though, and he was sure that he would be able to make his feelings known once he was behind the canvas.

Of course, unbeknownst to Tom, her feelings were quite similar. Tom was handsome, of course, and funny and kind, and she got along with him better than anyone else. She had never felt the way she felt for him with anyone else, but flirting was hard. She always got nervous and backed off, there was just too much at risk. She didn’t know if Tom felt the same way, and she didn’t want to risk damaging their relationship by telling him she was into him. Of course she was happy just to help Tom for the class, but she thought it was a good chance to tread the waters.

“Ready,” (y/n) smiled as she left her room, “Where do you want me boss?”

“The couch is fine,” he was holding his sketchbook now, holding it firm against his chest, “If you could sit kind of sideways and put your arms on the back of the couch.”

She sat as he told her, glancing over her shoulder at him, “Like this?”

“That’s really nice, very reminiscent of the original…” he glanced down at his sketchbook, “Are you comfortable?”

“It’s a little awkward,” she admitted.

“Then it’s a no. How about with your hands in front of you, just resting.”

“This is better,” she smiled as she switched positions, “But if you want me the other way I don’t mind.”

“I just want you to be comfortable,” he assured before glancing back at the sketchbook, “Why don’t you try on your stomach, with your arms under your head.”

She giggled as she moved, kicking her legs like a child, “This is like the fifth grade slumber party position. I feel like we’re gonna play truth or dare.”

He rolled his eyes, “You’re never going to break into the modeling industry if you mess around like that.”

“You’re lucky I’m not a model or I’d be charging,” she stuck her tongue out before laying her head on her hands, “Is this right?”

“Almost, just cross your arms like this,” he set her arms in the position he wanted before stepping away again, “Are you comfy like that?”

“Yeah, I could sleep like this.”

“Good, there’s just one other pose I wanted to try. Could you roll over?”

She flipped to her back and set her hands over her stomach, “Do I look like an angel now?”

“Almost,” he moved one of his arms, extending it above her head and leaving the other over her stomach, “Perfect,” he declared, looking her over with a smile, “Very angelic.”

Her cheeks dusted pink and she bit down on her cheek, “Thanks.”

“I think this is the one,” he scribbled a few things in his sketchbook, “What do you think?”

"I could lay here all day."

“Perfect, can you stay there for a few so I can sketch you?”

She nodded, drumming her fingers along her stomach, "Did you get a better explanation of the project today?"

"Yeah, she said our grade is going to be focused on the emotion of the piece since we're painting someone close to us. She wants us to focus on portraying them how we see them."

"How are you gonna portray me then?" she blushed as she questioned him.

"An angel," he spoke without thinking, his cheeks flushing instantly, "Not with wings or anything, just sort of what I'm going for."

She was sure her face was about to catch on fire, "You don't have to do that, I mean I like the angel paintings, but you should portray me how you see me."

"I am, it just happened to fit with what you like," he tried his best to conceal his face behind his sketchbook as he spoke, "You're really sweet, and you always make everyone around you really happy, I think an angel is fitting."

“I think you’re like that,” she met his eyes, just barely peeking over the edge of his sketchbook, “You always make me happy.”

“I’m really glad I do,” he bit the inside of his cheek nervously, “I think I’ve got everything I need for today, I’ll do some thumbnailing tonight and go pick up some supplies.”

“Cool,” she sat back up, twirling some of her hair nervously, “So when do you want to start?”

“You have that essay right? Why don’t we do Saturday? I don’t want to take up a bunch of your time.”

“That’s sweet but I’m gonna procrastinate no matter what,” she giggled, “Saturday is good though, then we’d have all day to work.”

“I’ll be over at ten then,” he closed his sketchbook before shoving is back into his bag, “If you really want to procrastinate you could come to the store with me. I mean I have to make sure I can match your skin and hair and everything…”

“Well sure, but if you want even more of my very valuable time I at least expect you to buy me some tea.”

He laughed, “Fine, fine, we’ll stop for tea.”

/

Day 1

Tom was surprised by how awake (y/n) was when he arrived, she was never much of a morning person. When he showed up she had brewed some tea for them both and was already wearing the white dress they’d agreed upon. Tom had drawn about a thousand thumbnails before finally deciding on exactly what he wanted the painting to look like. He decided he’d start on it Friday night, figuring it would be good to get most of the background out of the way so he could focus on painting her while they were together. She gushed over how good the painting already looked, telling him they were the most perfect clouds she’d ever seen while he set up his work station. She was always hyping him up, he appreciated it, even though he was nervous to get started.

“You ready?” he asked finally.

She nodded, “Yeah,” she sat down, doing her best to mimic the pose she had earlier in the week, “Am I good?”

Tom nodded, “Perfect.”

“Awesome, I won’t move a muscle.”

He chuckled, “You can move. Just not too much,” he sighed, picking up his palette and taking one more moment to stare at his canvas, “Okay, time to start.”

(y/n) watched him quietly at first, watching the cute way he stuck out his tongue when he concentrated. She had never seen him paint, the occasional sketch sure, but with painting she’d only even seen finished pieces. They were always amazing, but she felt like getting to see the work in progress was something special. Most people never got to meet someone as passionate or as talented as Tom, let alone get to be the subject of their work.

“Do you mind if I draw the curtains?” Tom broke her trance.

“It’s your painting.”

He laughed, “No, I mean open them. Why on earth would I add a window to a painting of you in the sky?”

“I don’t know how your artist brain works, maybe you think clouds have windows,” she laughed in response, “Go ahead, I thought you wouldn’t want the lighting changing all day.”

“Well I’m going to paint the light source where I want it to be,” he explained as he stood, “But I want to make sure I’m painting you how you’d look in more natural light. Maybe angels have windows, but I’m nearly certain they don’t have iridescent light bulbs.”

“You seriously think heaven has fluorescent lighting?”

“I think they use the sun,” he deadpanned, though a smirk tempted the corners of his mouth, “You can turn on the tv or something.”

“That’s okay, I like watching you.”

He furrowed his brow in confusion, “Why? I’m just staring at a canvas.”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “It’s something you're passionate about, it’s cute watching you get in the zone.”

“Oh,” he blushed and turned his attention back to his work, “Thanks. I’ll be more talkative once I get a little further along, I just really like to concentrate in the beginning.”

“It’s fine,” she assured again, “I’m not bored Tom, I don’t mind a bit of quiet time.”

“Okay.” 

Truthfully he didn’t mind it either, at least when he was with her. He just liked being in the same room together, even if they were just studying or watching a movie, it was nice to just be together. 

/

Day 2

“Would you mind if I came over after class tomorrow?” Tom questioned, breaking (y/n)’s attention from the tv.

“That’s fine by me,” she smiled to him, “It’s not like I usually have plans with anyone else on a Monday afternoon.”

“Yeah, no one else can stand you,” he chuckled while she feigned offense.

“You know I could be charging you for this? I’m doing this for free out of the goodness of my heart.”

“You think I have money? I’m a starving artist darling, free is all I can afford.”

“You better be nice then,” she teased with a smile.

“I’m cooking you lunch aren’t I?” he sighed before setting his paints down, “Speaking of which, I think I’m ready for a lunch break.”

“Me too,” she rubbed her stomach, “Break time?”

He nodded, “Yeah, you still want pasta?”

“You know I do,” she winked as she stood up, stretching her arms up above her head, “Can I peak?”

He nodded, “It still doesn’t look like much, but I’m making good progress.”

She bounced over to the painting, smiling ear to ear as she took in all he had done, “It looks more and more amazing every time I see it. This is amazing Tom, seriously it looks so good already.”

He smiled, blushing at the praise, “Thanks, I think it’s coming along really well.”

/

Day 3

Tom was making much quicker progress than he had expected, he just found it very easy to find his rhythm every time they sat down to work. Part of it was her, part of it was the subject matter, also her. He was pretty sure all the hours he’d previously spent staring at her had something to do with it too. So far he was proud of his work, though he was sure it wouldn’t have been possible for a painting of her to look bad anyway. When he sat down to paint her he didn’t have to think about it much, just paint, it came very natural. It just felt naturally to immortalize someone like her, but the talking helped the most. Normally he painted alone and he’d wear himself out or hit some kind of wall and be forced to stop, but he hadn’t had that problem since working with her. It was like his hands moved on their own while he just hung out with his best friend. It was just easy...

“Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you stay so clean when you paint?”

“I figured it out around the same time I stopped fingerpainting.”

She laughed, “Okay well when I try to paint I still get at least some paint on my hands and arms and stuff, you never get paint anywhere.”

“This is the third time you’ve seen me paint, I’ve gotten messy plenty of times but I’m trying really hard not to get paint all over your house.”

“Have you ever painted a girl?” she giggled, “Her body I mean, like gotten naked and painted on each other?”

He flushed suddenly, “No, have you?”

“No, but it would be fun wouldn’t it?”

“It would be cold,” he pursed his lips, he was well hidden by the canvas, so he had a lot more confidence in his ability to be cheeky, “We can take a break if you want to try it out.”

She went quiet for a moment, Tom thought he might have to throw himself out of her window but when he looked at her her cheeks were just as red, and she decided to press on, “What would you paint?”

“Depends where I’m painting.”

She bit her bottom lip, a playful smile overtaking her despite her pink cheeks, “Well I would paint a grid and play tic tac toe on your abs.”

She burst into laughter at her own awful joke and Tom did his best to fight off his own laughter, “That was not funny.”

“Yes it was that’s hilarious!” she kept laughing, clenching her stomach and rolling onto her side, only to find there was no room and roll onto the floor with a thud, “Ow.”

Tom started laughing, “You deserve that for making such a shit joke.”

“Fuck off,” she groaned.

/

Day 4

“Do you ever get lonely living here all alone?” Tom knit his brow as he tried to perfect her nose.

She nodded, “Sometimes, but I don’t really want a roommate you know? I need a boyfriend or something so I can just call him over when I decide I want someone to spend the night.”

“You could call me,” Tom didn’t dare peek out from behind the canvas after that comment, “I wouldn’t mind if you wanted me to spend the night sometimes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, we could even build a pillow fort and play truth or dare.”

She laughed lightly, “Well who could pass up an offer like that?”

/

Day 5

Rather than painting the whole night, Tom and (y/n) had decided to get some studying done, putting them at a much later start when they eventually did get to the painting. (y/n) seemed tired, and Tom had told her they could skip the night, especially since he was making such good progress already, but she had insisted she was fine. So they started working, and (y/n) watched tv, half away while Tom started working. The painting was coming along amazing, and Tom had planned to just get some of the more tedious, detailing work done and let her get to bed, but of course once he actually started working it was a different story. He had quickly gotten wrapped up in his work, not stopping until the noise of the tv stopped, the screen flashing to ask if anyone was still watching. 

“Sorry, I was just getting in the zone I-” Tom stopped mid sentence, spotting her already passed out on the couch. Her head was tossed to the side and one of her arms hung off the couch. The sight was endearing, but Tom felt bad about not noticing, “Oh dear,” he set his pallet down and stood up, flicking the tv off before approaching her, “Well come on darling, let’s get you to bed,” he nudged her lightly, “(y/n), time to wake up.”

She stirred slightly, a small groan leaving her lips before her eyes peaked open, “Tommy?”

He nodded, a small smile on his lips, “I would have carried you, but you’ve got to lock up behind me.”

She yawned, “Sorry, I’ll stay awake Tom, you can keep working.”

“You’re exhausted sweetheart, you need to get some sleep,” he smiled, setting a hand on her cheek carefully, “I got a lot done today anyway, promise.”

“Okay,” she yawned again before taking his hand, “I’ll help you clean up.”

“I’ll take care of it, why don’t you go get ready for bed?”

She nodded again, pushing herself up sleepily and padding off to her bedroom. Tom smiled to himself while he cleaned up, thinking about how nice it would have been to carry her off and tuck her in, or better yet fall asleep besides her. He could only hope he’d get there one day, if he could ever force out his feelings. It was seeming more and more possible everyday. Just as he’d suspected, hiding behind the canvas had made it much easier to flip the conversation to something flirty, and much to his delight, she didn’t seem to mind, if anything she flirted back.

“Looks good,” (y/n) hummed as she glanced over the painting, “Tomorrow we should be able to start early.”

“Thank you, honestly at this rate I’ll only need a few more days.”

“That’s awesome Tommy, I can’t wait to see it all done.”

“Me too,” he tossed an arm over her shoulder with a smile, “Come see me out.”

“I am, I am,” she smiled as he led her to the door, “Drive safe.”

“I will, get some sleep darling,” he kissed the top of her head before heading for the car.

/

Day 6

The doorbell made Tom jump, and nearly swipe a black line through one of her eyes, “Fucking hell,” he swore under his breath,

She giggles, “It’s just the pizza Tom,” she jumped off the couch, heading straight for the door, “Which means stop working busy bee we’ve got a pizza to devour!”

He pushed himself up with a sigh, “I’m in the homestretch here, I just need to push through.”

“No, you need to nourish your body and keep your mind sharp,” she winked to him as she opened the door accepting the pizza with a quick thank you.

“Smells delicious,” he plucked the box from her arms, “I think I’ll pretty much finish up tonight, but I’ll want to really polish it tomorrow when I’ve got fresh eyes. And I probably won’t want to stop once I’ve got started so eat and pee before I get here.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute or you wouldn’t get away with bossing people around like that,” she passed him a plate before tossing open the box.

“I know,” he winked to her, dishing them both a slice, “You know I probably only need another hour or so tonight, so we could watch a movie or something while we eat, then I could finish up after.”

A swarm of butterflies fluttered around her stomach, almost making it impossible for her to answer, “That sounds nice Tom, you definitely deserve to relax.”

“We both do,” he grabbed her remote as he fell down on the couch.

“I’ve been laying on the couch, relaxing is currently all I know.”

“Nah, I’m sure it gets tiring sitting there looking pretty all day,” he sucked in a sharp breath when she sat down, pressed right against his side.

“It does,” she nodded in agreement, “Alright, you pick for us alright?”

“Sure.”

He didn’t pay much attention to what he was picking, he was much more concerned with their proximity. They’d watched plenty of movies and tv shows together during their friendship, but they never sat so close. It gave Tom a lot of confidence, since she’d opted to sit besides him, he took it as a sign that his flirting was landing. So after they finished eating he decided he should also initiate something and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Without even thinking she had laid her head on his shoulder, it just felt natural. Tom pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head and turned his attention to the tv.

/

Day 7

Tom stood up, stepping back a few feet to examine his work. He did it fairly frequently so (y/n) didn’t think anything of it and turned right back to the tv, until Tom spoke.

“It’s perfect, I’m done,” he declared with a small smile.

(y/n) raised a brow, “Seriously?”

He nodded, “Yeah, I have to seal it and everything, but the actual painting is done. I’ll turn it in on Monday.”

“Don’t you have a few more weeks?” she asked as she stood.

He nodded, “I don’t need them, I’m finished, it’s gorgeous, I don’t need to do anything else.”

“Well can I see?”

“Of course!” he grabbed her shoulders, quickly pulling her to face the work, “What do you think?”

She went wide eyed, taken back by how good he’d made her look. It was strange, seeing herself in a painting. It was done well of course, and it looked just like her, but better somehow. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was, maybe the background or the romantic theme of the painting, but she just looked better. She looked like an angel, perched on a bed of pink and blue swirling clouds, reminiscent of the paintings she likes, but distinctly Tom’s work.

“Wow,” she turned to him with a big smile, “Tom it’s incredible, I don’t know how you made me look like that.”

“That’s just what you look like.”

She shook her head, “It’s better somehow, like the perfect version of me or something. You did incredible.”

“No,” he shook his head, “That’s just you, but thank you. I’m really proud of this, I think it’s one of my best.”

She blushed, “Yeah, you’re gonna get a killer grade.”

He hadn’t thought much about the grave, the assignment had taken a back seat to just painting her, “Yeah, I hope so,” he grabbed her upper arms and smiled down at her, “You’re incredible you know that? Thank you so much for doing this for me.”

She bit her lip and nodded, “You don’t have to thank me, I had fun.”

“Me too,” his eyes caught her lips for just a moment, soft and supple and more than kissable, “I, uh, we should do something to celebrate, dinner or something.”

“That would be fun too,” she tucked some hair behind her ear, leaning towards him just slightly.

He found himself leaning in too, but as much as he wanted to kiss her, something just wouldn’t let him. He kissed her forehead and backed away awkwardly, “I, uh, need to pack everything up, I have to get the sealant on pretty quick and I left it at home so…” 

The sealant was in his bag, but he felt like running away suddenly, his nerves truly getting the best of him.

Her cheeks burned in embarrassment but she nodded, ‘Y-Yeah, no problem, I’ll help you pack up.”

/

“Wait so let me get this straight, all this flirting and pining, you chickened out on the kiss?” Harrison’s jaw fell open in disbelief. 

Tom nodded, hiding his head against his arms, “Yes, and I nearly died the first time so let's not talk about it now.”

“Dude,” he gaped, “Are you kidding me? All you had to do was pucker up!”

“I know!” Tom groaned, “I know, I don’t even know what happened, I just froze up. I mean what if I misread it? She probably didn’t want me to kiss her, in fact I know she didn’t.”

“You said she leaned in first!”

“I thought she did but I’m stupid! There’s no way she was trying to kiss me.” “It literally could not be more obvious that you two like each other so I don’t want to hear it. You need to just call her up and tell her you froze up and ask her out.”

“I can’t, I will literally drop dead.”

Harrison rolled his eyes, “Then I’ll do it.”

“Dude no! I’m not ten, I can’t send you to ask a girl out for me, that’s a guaranteed no at this point.”

“Then just tell her,” Harrison groaned, “Before I lose it, please.”

/

Tom was coming to terms with the fact that he was going to die alone by Wednesday morning. It was hard to accept, but easier to accept than almost kissing his dream girl and chickening out, so the choice had been easy. But apparently the universe had other plans for him, as Ms. Miller decided to pull him aside after class.

“I want to talk about your final,” she placed his painting on an easel.

He blushed, “You don’t like it?”

She shook her head, “No, no, Tom this is incredible. I was going to suggest that you enter it into the National Galleries up and coming contest.”

“Seriously?”

She nodded, “Yeah, this is amazing, it would be a shame if the world didn’t see it,” she chuckled lightly, “And I’m sure it would get you some brownie points with your girlfriend.”

“Oh, she’s not my girlfriend,” he spoke softly, pretending to cough to try and hide his words, “Just my friend.”

“You painted just a friend like this?”

He nodded.

“And remind me of the title.”

“The Angel Nextdoor.”

“Do you call all your friends angel?”

“Uh no, just her,” he bit his lip while she raised a brow at him, “She doesn’t know I’m into her.”

Ms. Miller glanced at the painting with a hum, “Has she seen the painting?”

He nodded, “Yeah, she was there the whole time.”

“I think she knows.”

He began to blush again, “Really?”

She nodded, “I could tell just from looking at it that you must really love this girl, I’m sure she can tell too,” she smiled and leaned back on her desk, “Anyways, I just wanted to let you know about the competition, I’ll have your marks soon.”

He nodded, “Thanks, I’ll, uh, think about it.”

He scrambled out of class quickly, wondering if maybe he didn’t have to die alone. Maybe he could confess, and maybe (y/n) who had gushed to him about the painting he’d poured all his love into, would reciprocate. Maybe she had leaned in to try and kiss him, and maybe, just maybe, she really did like him back. Instead of stopping at the dining hall where he was supposed to meet Harrison and (y/n) he paced right past it, towards (y/n)’s class, trying to hype himself up the whole way. 

(y/n) had spent the past few days with her mind full of questions. She had leaned in, hoping Tom would get the hint and they would kiss. It seemed to be going that way but then he stopped. Tom had seemed flirty while he was painting her, and she tried her best to show her own interest. He had even held her while they watched a movie, but then he didn’t kiss her. He just kissed her on the forehead and left. She was worried she had misread everything, and almost certain she had. She was anxious about seeing him for the first time since the almost kiss, worried things would be tense or weird. So she was quite worried when she spotted him outside of her class, worried he was about to tell her to never bring up the incident and forget anything happened.

“Hey,” she smiled to him, “What are you doing here?” “I came to talk to you,” he blushed a bit, “Uh, Ms. Miller really likes my painting, she thought I should enter it in this competition for up and comers.”

“Really? Tom that’s awesome, congrats!”

He nodded, “Yeah, thanks, I thought it was really cool too, but she said she thought it was good because she could really see my emotions.”

“Also awesome, you’re gonna ace that class.”

“Okay, but, um…” he trailed off for a minute, unsure of how to force the words out, “The emotion was love, that she saw I mean. She said she could tell I really loved you, a-and I know you know that I do love you, but I love you way more than any of my other friends, and it’s different too… I mean I know I’m like a struggling artist, and that’s not the most desirable thing, and I’m not this perfect, beautiful person like you are, but I do love you, and I love you so much it’s overwhelming sometimes. The best thing I’ve ever painted is you because I love you so much, romantically.”

She stood totally frozen, with wide eyes and her mouth hanging open, making Tom’s heart pound nervously against his chest. He thought he might black out but she moved suddenly, grabbing him by the neck and kissing him hard. Her lips were plump and soft and so much better than he could have imagined. He grabbed her waist, leaning into her with a smile.

“I love you too,” she smiled as she pulled away, “I think you’re perfect and I am totally crazy about you.”

“Seriously?”

She nodded excitedly, “Of course! How could I not? You’re incredibly talented and you're funny and your kind, Tom you’re amazing, of course I am so totally in love with you.”

He smiled and sealed their lips again, “Maybe we could go on a date sometime then?”

She nodded again, “Of course, but I’ve got one condition.”

“Anything.”

“There has to be more kissing.”

He laughed before pecking her lips again, “I think I can handle that.”

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[fruitcoops]

Could you maybe write a “73 questions with Sirius Black” Vogue one? Or something like that.

Yes! I had never seen these videos before and it was a fun challenge to write. Hope you enjoy! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

The house is large, two stories tall and painted a soft gray with white trim around the windows. Holiday lights have yet to be taken down and shine in all colors of the rainbow from the eaves as the camera crew walks up the front steps. The curtains in the window tremble for a moment, then a dog pokes her head through—she is all-black and curious, and looks quite large.

Dorcas Meadowes knocks on the front door; a moment later, it swings open and reveals Sirius Black. “Hey, guys, come on in! You can leave your shoes by the door inside.”

“Thanks, Sirius.” Dorcas kicks off her flats and follows him inside as he sets a dish towel on the end table and leans against it. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing pretty well. Morning practice was productive and I’m feeling good about our upcoming game.”

“We’re here today to ask you 73 rapid-fire questions while you lead us around. Sound good?”

“Sounds good. You can all come inside instead of freezing on the porch,” he laughs, waving them closer. The door shuts with a gentle click.

“First question: on a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now?”

“Hmmm. A solid seven.”

“Do you have any pets?”

“I do!” Sirius leads them into the other room, where the dog is curled up on the couch below the window; he picks her up and gives her a kiss on the head. “This is Hattie and I love her very much.”

“Cute! If you could do a dramatic love scene in a movie with anyone, who would it be?”

Sirius sets the dog down and thinks for a second. “Aside from my fiancé, I’m going to say James Potter. We would kill it and I don’t think it would be that awkward.”

“What’s the origin of your name?”

“Pretty much my whole family has star-themed names. Sirius is the dog star from Canis Major.”

“Brightest star in the sky, too. What’s one thing people don’t know about you?”

“I’m an introvert. Lots of people assume that I’m super social because of my job, but I’m very quiet in real life.” He walks back out to the entrance and takes the towel off the table, then moves into the kitchen. It’s well-lit and painted a deep, warm red. The countertop is scattered with knickknacks and picture frames—clearly, this is a place people spend a lot of time. Hattie, who followed them in, lays down by the oven with a heavy sigh.

“What’s your wakeup ritual?”

Sirius reaches up and pulls two mugs out of the cupboard. “I wake up around seven am and make coffee while Re is in the shower, then rinse off and get dressed while he makes breakfast. It’s a good system. Want some tea?”

“Sure. What’s your bedtime ritual?”

“I don’t think I have one,” he says as he puts the kettle on and ignites a burner on the stove. “Usually we read or watch a movie, then go up to bed and talk for a while. There’s not a big routine or anything.”

“Sounds nice. What’s your favorite time of day?” Dorcas sits on the other side of the kitchen island while he takes a box of peppermint tea down.

“That’s a tough one. I like the in-between spots, like just after sunrise or dusk. Three in the afternoon is usually pretty chill as well. Does anyone else want a cup?”

There are a few murmurs behind the camera and he takes two more down. “What is one thing no one knows about you?” Dorcas asks.

He raises an eyebrow. “If I told you, everyone would know, and it wouldn’t count.”

“Fair enough. Dream country to visit?”

“Anywhere. I think I want to go to Ireland first, though.” Small wisps of steam begin curling out of the kettle, but it doesn’t whistle.

“Do you ever feel pressure to post things on social media?”

Sirius makes a face. “I used to. Eventually I just got tired of it, you know? The whole point of social media is sharing bits of your life with people and it makes me happy to show off my dog, or Re, or my friends. I post things just for fun now.”

The kettle begins to hiss and he reaches back to turn it off. “Sneakers or skates?”

“Skates.”

“Vintage or new?

“Vintage, especially for t-shirts and sweaters.”

“Who is your biggest role model?”

“Pascal Dumais.” Sirius stops pouring for a moment to look up at the camera. “If you ever get a chance to meet him, listen to what he has to say. You’ll be better for it.”

“Wise words. How do you deal with negativity? Oh, thank you.” Dorcas wraps her hands around the mug and takes a small sip while Sirius passes the other ones to the crew.

“Honestly? I don’t give a shit. It used to really bother me, but I’m happy, I have a job I love, and my family cares about me. Why should I care what people I’ve never met think of me?” He sits on the counter and rests his elbows on his knees, blowing on the hot water.

“What are three things you can’t live without?”

“My dog, Remus, and my family.” There is no hesitation in his voice.

“Not hockey?”

“I’d be devastated if I couldn’t play, sure, but it’s not the central focus of my life anymore.”

“What’s one ingredient you put in everything?”

“Does salt count?” He winces as he takes a drink. “Ugh, burned my tongue. I put salt on a lot of things because I drink so much water that it throws my balance off.”

“What is something you’re completely bored of right now?”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Gossip columns and tabloids in general.”

Dorcas hums in agreement. “What’s your biggest fear in life?”

“Losing my loved ones.”

“Window or aisle seat?”

“Window. Anyone walking by always steps on my foot or hits my elbow if I’m in the aisle. Plus, I get a good view and an easy nap spot.”

“What’s your current TV obsession?”

“Avatar: The Last Airbender, which I’m watching for the third time already.” He shakes his head. “It’s just so good.”

“Favorite app?”

He takes a second to think. “Spotify.”

“Secret talent?”

Sirius looks at her over the rim over his cup. “This is going to shock you. Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Hockey.”

“You’re the worst.” Despite her words, Dorcas smiles. “What the most adventurous thing you’ve done in your life?”

“Uh, probably going to Europe with some of the guys last year. We had a lot of fun, but it was crazy.”

“I can imagine it was. How would you define yourself in three words?”

“Tall, dark, and handsome.”

“And apparently not humble,” Dorcas teases. “Favorite piece of clothing?”

“Hoodies.”

“Clothing item everyone should have?”

“Hoodies.”

A door opens behind them and the camera turns; Remus walks out of the basement, covered in sweat as he wipes his forehead with the hem of his shirt and holds his skates in his other hand. “Baby, have you seen…” he trails off when he sees the group of people in the kitchen. Hattie’s tail thumps on the floor. “Um. Hello.”

“Hey, Remus, how are you doing?” Dorcas asks mildly.

The camera pans out to catch both Sirius, who is laughing quietly, and Remus, who flushes pink. “I’m good. I thought you were coming at ten?”

“It’s ten-thirty, sweetheart,” Sirius says, hiding his smile in his tea.

Remus glances at the clock before giving an awkward nod and walking toward the stairs. “I guess I’ll take a shower, then. Sorry about that. Uh, carry on.”

“What’s a superpower you would want?” Dorcas asks as soon as he disappears.

Sirius shakes his head with a grin. “Uh, teleportation. That would be really cool.”

“What’s inspiring you in life right now?”

“Ah, une grande question.” He thinks, then tilts his head toward the staircase. “Moments like that. And the Stanley Cup, of course.” He reaches back and knocks on the wooden cupboard.

“What cause is closest to your heart?”

“LGBT+ rights, especially trans rights. I’m privileged enough to have a platform and I intend to be loud as hell about that.”

“Good.” Dorcas sets her almost-empty mug on the table. “What’s one thing you’d say to your teenage self?”

Sirius lets out a long breath and drums his hands on the light blue ceramic of his cup. “I would say…it gets better. It really, really does. You’re going to feel super shitty for just a little bit longer, but then I promise you will be so incredibly happy that you wake up every morning and it hits you all over again.”

Dorcas nods, and the kitchen is quiet for a moment. “What’s a book that everyone should read?”

“The Hobbit, by J.R.R Tolkien.”

“What would you like to be remembered for?”

“This is going to sound so corny, but I want to be remembered for just being a good person.”

“That’s not corny. How do you define beauty?”

“Remus Lupin.”

“That’s corny,” she laughs, making him smile. “What do you love most about your body?”

“I’m a big guy, which can be a little bit intimidating, but it means I give really great hugs. I’m sure everyone saw the video that went around a while ago.”

“Cap Cuddles?”

He snorts. “Right. You’ve got Finn O’Hara to thank for that.”

“In your opinion, what’s the best way to take a rest or decompress?”

“Being alone,” Sirius says. “There is literally nothing better than getting home and sitting down with a book or something while I can hear Re doing his own thing and Hattie’s napping. It’s one of my favorite parts of the afternoon.”

“That’s the most introverted thing you’ve ever said.” Dorcas grins and finishes her tea just as a faint beeping noise begins in another room. “What’s your favorite way to experience art?”

“Through music, for sure.” He slides off the counter and walks down the hall, leading them toward the laundry room. He gives the camera crew a look as he pulls dry clothes out of the machine and heads back to the living room. “What? Did you think I didn’t do my own laundry?”

“You lost a sock,” Dorcas informs him, picking it off the ground and laying it on top of his head.

“Thanks, D.”

“What question do people ask that you wish they wouldn’t?”

“Lots of people have asked me when I decided to be gay, which is wrong on so many levels.”

“If you could master one instrument, what would it be?”

“Guitar or piano.” He dumps the load of laundry on the couch and opens the back door, holding it for the crew as they walk out into the sunshine. Hattie weaves through their legs and disappears into the bushes along the back.

“I might have to take your dog home with me. If you had a tattoo, where would it be?”

Sirius mock-glares at her. “Let me have my girl! Um, I would love to have a tattoo somewhere on my arm.”

“This might be a hard one. Dolphins or koalas?”

“Oh, that is hard. Probably dolphins. The ocean is terrifying but those little guys are just having a blast.”

“What’s the best gift you’ve ever received?” Dorcas asks as he picks up a tennis ball and throws it across the yard. Hattie emerges from the bushes and races after it in a blur of black fur.

“An engagement ring.”

“Yeah, it was.” Remus walks into the backyard and kisses Sirius’ cheek before bending down to catch Hattie in his arms. His hair is still damp from the shower. “Hello, sweet girl!”

“Who’s your favorite musician?”

“Queen.” Sirius laughs at her surprised look. “I’m gay, what did you expect?”

“True. What’s your favorite board game?”

“Monopoly.” Remus and Hattie disappear from the frame, but the bouncing sound of the tennis ball creates some background noise and Sirius watches them for a moment with pure affection.

“Favorite color?”

“Blue.”

“Least favorite color?”

“Orange.”

“Bowties or knot ties?”

He frowns. “Don’t they all have knots?”

“Smartass.”

“Yep! Uh, regular ties.”

“Bowties are superior!” Remus calls.

“Get your own questions!” Sirius laughs.

“Going off your music answers: records or CDs?”

“I don’t own a lot of records, so I’m going to have to go with CDs. I love the way vinyl sounds, though.” His eyes widen as he looks to the side. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Remus wheezes. “I didn’t need those ribs anyway.”

“For the viewers, the dog just football-tackled him into the grass,” Sirius says, and Dorcas snorts.

“Your hair is famously luscious. Blow-dry or air-dry?”

“Air dry.”

“Coffee or tea?”

“Coffee, but tea is nice in the evenings.”

“What’s the weirdest word in the English language?”

Sirius laughs. “There are so many. Uh, ‘jeez’ is the one that comes to mind first.”

“What about the French language?”

“Oiseaux,” he says in a crisp accent. “It means ‘birds’, and you pronounce about three of the actual letters.”

“Good to know. Do you prefer dark chocolate or milk chocolate?”

“Dark chocolate.”

“Stairs or elevators?”

“Elevators. I don’t want to walk up three floors after playing hockey for two and a half hours.”

“Summer or winter?”

Sirius bites his lip in thought as they walk around the yard, where small flowers line the fence in beds and colorful pots. “I love summer because I have actual free time to be with my friends, but winter is hockey season. I don’t know, next question.”

“What’s a dessert you don’t like?”

“I’m not a huge fan of caramel. It’s too sticky.”

“A skill you’re working on mastering?”

“Will you ban me from more interviews if I say hockey?”

“Yes.”

“In that case, I’m working on keeping plants alive, as you can probably see.” He taps the nearest flowerpot gently with his foot; it has ‘Harry’ painted across it in sloppy blue letters. “My godson made that for my birthday.”

“What’s the best thing to happen to you today?”

“This, for sure,” he says with a smile. “I haven’t seen you and Marley in ages.”

“We missed you, too. What’s the worst thing that happened to you today?”

He pouts slightly. “Burning my tongue on tea.”

“Hugs or kisses?”

“Hugs! Though I’ll accept kisses from a few very specific people.”

“Do you have a favorite smell?”

He pauses and cranes his neck to look behind the cameras. “Re?”

“Yeah?”

“What shampoo do you use?”

“Uhhh…” There’s a moment of quiet. “It’s something with lavender, I think.”

Sirius turns back to Dorcas. “Something with lavender.”

“How specific,” she laughs. “What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?”

He smiles to himself. “There was a young woman, maybe sixteen or seventeen, that came to one of the games earlier this season. I saw her standing with a puck and went over, and while I was signing it she looks at me and says, ‘you are exactly what I wish my older brother was like’. Turns out, she was bisexual and her brother wasn’t super accepting of her. That was…” He shakes his head. “That meant the world to me. I’ll never forget it.”

“You’ve definitely made a big impact on the community,” Dorcas agrees. “What’s the last piece of content you consumed that made you cry?”

“I watched ‘Soul’ the other night and almost had to pause it at one point to pull myself together.”

“Do you prefer animated movies or live-action?”

“Animated, mostly because I wasn’t allowed to watch Disney movies as a kid, so I’ve been catching up as an adult and they rock.”

“What’s your nerdiest quality?

“I love watching documentaries.”

“Sweet or savory?” The back door creaks a bit as they walk back inside and the camera catches a few frames of Hattie and Remus running around the yard together.

“Sweet.”

“In ten years, you have a daughter. What age do you let her date?”

Sirius gives Dorcas a look. “Whenever she wants to. I’m going to impose curfews and stuff, but I’m the last person on the planet to police her love life.”

“Good answer. What’s a song you can listen to on repeat?”

“Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen. Absolute banger.”

“If you could switch lives with someone for a day, who would it be?”

“Arthur Weasley,” he says after a moment. “I would love to know what it feels like to get up in the morning and know you’re about to spend another day wrangling our team. It’s a miracle he hasn’t killed us all with his clipboard.”

“How do you know you’re in love?”

“Oh.” Sirius blinks at her in surprise at the sudden topic change. “Well, for me, I think it’s just…being comfortable around someone. Being able to spend time with them without saying anything and knowing you’re safe, no matter what. It’s the best feeling in the world.”

“What are you most excited about at this time in your life?”

A slight smile crinkles his eyes. “Getting married. That’s going to be awesome.”

“Who is your go-to for having a good laugh?”

“James Potter. He’s the best, and I love him.”

“Last question,” Dorcas says, sliding her list into her pocket. “Many LGBT+ people, especially teenagers, have spoken about how you’re an inspiration. Any words for them?”

Sirius hums in thought. “First of all, thank you for being so open and welcoming. I would never have expected the sheer force of people’s love to come through like that when so many people were saying horrible things. Second, to any kids out there who need to hear it: I’m proud of you. It takes a lot to be true to yourself and even if you’re still in the closet, you’re just as valid as the rest of us. Stay proud.”

“That’s a wrap.” Dorcas gives him a quick hug that he happily returns. “Thanks for letting us crash your morning, Cap.”

“Any time. Thanks for tuning in to Lion Pride, everyone!”

[saphirered]

would you mind doing a little scene maybe of caduceusxreader or maybe calebxreader where their s/o ends up hit with pollen during battle that gets them super high alla knott and the floor fruit style please?

Little turned into a bit more of a scenes instead 😅. A little disclaimer; I do not condone the abuse of substances especially not illegal ones. Listen to your auntie Saph, kids! Stay in school and be responsible! 😘

Content Warning: Use of mind altering substances.

It’s the middle of a fight in the jungle. You’re under attack by a large lizard walking on its hind legs, with some rather useless short arms but huge sharp teeth that have munched on Fjord one too many times leaving the half-orc in a bleeding and moody state without much of a chance to get out and not get hit again.

The battlefield is not in your favour considering this oversized lizard is about to turn your friend into its next meal but you still have a healing potion left and really, this is the time to use it but you can’t really get to Fjord without getting close to the lizard thing and even then you doubt you’d be able to get into arms reach of the man. Well it’s now or never and better than the alternative. You rush forward dodging below the toothy maw of the creature.

“Fjord! Catch!” With that you get as close as you can, tossing the healing potion. Fjord just barely catches it, thanking you but that quickly falls silent.

“Look out!” Caleb shouts as he releases a firebolt to strike the lizard. It does not stop the creature from swiping with its tail sending you flying with a brute force knocking the air out of you. Luckily your landing is softened by a comfy bed of flowers, moss and some mushrooms. You land a cloud of spores and pollen dusting around you and entering your lungs as the first breath you’re able to take. It leaves you coughing and sneezing but you shake it off. This is not the right time for allergies to be kicking in. You got a lizard to kill.

Together you fight off the lizard. Still taking quite some good hits you deliver some as well and in the end manage to kill the thing. Some of you worse for wear you unanimously decided taking a breather is probably a good idea. You find a comfy patch of moss that does not release a dust cloud the moment you touch it and let yourself fall into its soft embrace, eyes closed.

“I’m just going to lie down over here. Let me know when we’re moving again.” An odd sense of nausea kicks in so you turn to your side and just curl up in an attempt to get a little more comfortable on the jungle floor.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Caleb asks looking you over. Physically you're a bit worse for wear but not terribly so. A moment of rest should have you back on your feet. You phase out a bit letting yourself be dragged off in a moment of rest.

Not but five minutes later your moment of peace is disturbed by a warm, really warm but comfortable hand being placed on your arm and shaking you lightly. You curl up a little tighter before rolling on your back and meeting the bright blue eyes of Caleb. You don’t recall them being that bright, maybe more like a muted or pale blue but now they’re vibrant. Odd you hadn’t noticed before. Same goes for his hair, red is more fiery orange and you swear you can pick apart every single strand on his head as well as the light stubble he’s sporting.

"Hey." You smile at the wizard lovingly. You'll never tire of waking up to Caleb no matter of how much you might want to continue sleeping. Caleb's a handsome man but right now he looks absolutely angelic with the bleeding light creating a halo around him.

Maybe it’s just because of the faded green background behind Caleb that throws off the contrast? Besides, you might have fallen asleep in your five minutes of rest, your vision usually goes a bit blurry until things come into focus but that doesn’t really explain why Caleb is so high focus now… Odd but you dismiss it as exhaustion and the vast jungle getting to you. No, you definitely hit your head when that lizard tail swiped you. Maybe you have a concussion. Should ask the clerics to check that out later once they’ve gotten their rest. Now's not the time to bother them.

“Hey. Time to get up. We’re ready to move before nightfall comes around.” Ugh. Even his voice sounds angelic now? Caleb offers you a hand and helps you up from the comforts of your moss-bed. Somewhat reluctant you get up. The nausea gets worse and you put a hand over your mouth suppressing the urge to vomit.

“Are you alright?” Caleb stabilises you as you stumble a little, dizziness not making your nausea any better. Sweet gods those warm hands just make you want to curl up into their warmth forever but you repress the urge well aware Caleb isn’t exactly the fondest of pda and keep it more surface levels with the others around.

“Yeah. Totally fine just a bit ugh but I’ll be fine. Some more sleep will probably do me good.” You see the rest of the Nein is packed up and ready to continue. Weren’t they just unpacking when you closed your eyes five minutes ago? Okay so maybe those five minutes were closer to an hour or so? What kind of exhaustion fuelled time warp did you get stuck in? This exhaustion is really getting to you. You need a vacation; one with Caleb. Maybe with an ocean view? That sounds nice. You're getting side tracked. Time to travel.

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

The journey continues deeper into the jungle towards your destination and your limbs get heavier and heavier. Did Jester paint you some lead shoes and replace yours while you were asleep? Did she do your clothes too? Because your whole body feels so heavy.

You bump into Caleb’s side. A hand finds its way to the small of your back and the warmth returns. You didn’t realise you’re feeling so cold, freezing almost so you allow yourself to lean just a bit more into Caleb’s side to bask in the warmth provided by your flaming hot wizard.

“You don’t happen to be able to make someone do the floaty glide thingy Essek can do, can’t you?” Caleb is confused by your sudden question and the unfiltered sentencing. You usually formulate your words more carefully than this but it seems as if the word ‘gravity’ has escaped your vocabulary. Caleb blames it on exhaustion seeing your somewhat unfocused state and feeling the weight of your body leaning on him for support. You’ve been walking for hours, running for a few and fought a giant lizard of a forgotten era after all. You have every right to be tired and he'll support you in any way he can.

“Ah, I’m afraid not. But, we will be setting down for the night once we reach a clear spot.” Didn’t you catch that conversation? You were there for it providing nods and noises of agreement while keeping an eye out for anything approaching. This is a bit odd for you so Caleb decides to keep an eye on you.

You hear birds chirping around you, their song drowning out Caleb’s words but not voice as he talks to you but the song is just too beautiful, it brings a smile to your face. Looking around you can see them sometimes. Colourful feathers popping against the green and the muted flashes of a sun lowering. If the sun’s going to sleep, you want to go soon too. It’s not really fair if you have to keep walking when it gets to lie down.

The colours and patterns through the leaves are very pretty though and the rays bleeding through are to die for. The world should look like this forever. It’s so beautiful, pulsing with every breath you take. No, you’re breathing with the nature around you. You get a newfound respect for Caduceus and Fjord’s Wildmom. She’s pretty cool if she’s responsible for all this. Is she responsible for all this? She gets your credit anyway.

You’re pulled to a sudden stop, or at least it feels sudden. Caleb is suddenly in front of you pulling your focus towards him and away from the chirping birds and the setting sun and the Wildmom. You’d ask Caleb to leave you alone but his gentle smile alone and warm hands on your shoulders pushing you down to sit on a tree stump call for your undivided attention in turn pulling it away from the gently blowing breeze and kaleidoscope of colours.

“You’re exhausted. Sit down and rest while we set up.” Caleb suggests and you find yourself nodding the words not entirely registering. Warm fingers press against your cheek before they pull away all too soon. The warmth leaves your body as Caleb leaves your side and the freezing cold returns. You wrap your coat tighter around yourself in an effort to preserve the heat but nothing seems to work.

You try to focus on your surroundings to distract from the icy cold, the humid jungle temperatures doing nothing to keep you warm. The crickets provide a beautiful symphony with the rustling leaves, the last of the song birds going to sleep and the awakening of the nocturnal creatures. It helps and you find yourself swaying lightly from side to side with the melody. It brings you a sense of happiness and content as well as a connection to everything around you.

You feel yourself beginning to drift when something warm and soft and a little heavy is draped across your shoulders. The warmth is similar to Caleb but not entirely the same, though you’re met with an intense smell of molasses, old books and whatever remains after a fire has turned to embers. Your eyes fall upon the dark purple material of Caleb’s coat; most of all the geometric patterns of the lining. They are enchanting and you feel like you could get lost in them.

“You’re shivering. Come. We’re all set up.” You once again allow Caleb to guide you back to your feet and pull you along to where the Nein had set up. Sitting down with you Caleb takes out his spellbook and a small crystal bead. You've always loved watching Caleb cast spells, something alluring to the practiced words and patterns. He begins to weave his hands through the air in front of him, the light sparks of magic following his fingertips as he speaks the words, what you didn’t expect to see is the trails left by the motions. You’ve never seen those before. That’s new. They’re very pretty though; a warm orange trail of embers just like him. Enamoured you stare, making no effort to hide or avert your gaze. You catch Caleb's eyes and he offers you a half smile which you dopily return continuing to watch the patterns.

You’re rudely pulled out of your trance by Caduceus offering you a bowl of food. Usually you would have jumped at the promise of food, the firbolg’s cooking is unrivalled but now the nausea comes back and your stomach twists at the smell alone. You turn to the side fighting the urge vomit and as politely as possible and decline the delicious food much to your dismay.

Caleb does accept the food he’s offered as Veth happily accepts your serving as seconds. Caleb sniffs the food expecting it to smell off somehow because of your reaction but it doesn’t. It’s as perfect as ever and you’re not one to refuse food when offered. As he begins eating you excuse yourself finding a spot where you don’t have to look at your friends consuming their food both, because of the strong smell and the look of it. While delicious the thought of the texture sends your brain in overdrive where you get an overwhelming phantom taste which only intensifies the nausea.

Finding a spot still within the dome but far enough to be comfortable you just watch the geometric patterns in the lining of Caleb’s coat. Not only do you focus on the patterns but you’re pretty sure you can count the individual threats of the fabric. The colours and contrast intense pull you in almost pervasively so.

A hand shakes your shoulder turning you to face them. It’s Caleb and he looks rather worried. The expression alone carries over to you. What’s he worried about? It’s not bad is it? Is it because of you? Oh, no maybe it is you… You’re set into a train of emotions and anxiety and when Caleb notices his expression softens but the worry does not leave.

“Hey, hey. I need you to breathe, okay? Just keep breathing.” You follow his instructions taking deep breathes and the anxiety mutes replaced by a hyper fixation on Caleb. Literally, everything around the wizard fades into the distance when he steps into your vision but you manage to force yourself to be aware of your surroundings with a lot of effort.

“Very good. Now, you want to tell me what’s going on?” From over Caleb’s shoulder you see Veth stuff her mouth with the food you refused and that alone is enough to make you gag. Caleb notices and shifts to break your line of sight. Oh no, you can smell it again. You cover your mouth and nose and lean forward letting your forehead fall against his clavicle taking deep breaths of the comfy molasses, old pages and smouldering fire scent.

“I don’t know but one more sniff of food and I’ll vomit so please take mercy on me and save me from the savoury deliciousness until this nausea passes.” Caleb wraps his arms around you, one hand rubbing circles into your back while the other lightly plays with the hairs on the back of your neck to alleviate your suffering. Of course he’s trying to piece together what’s happened because you’re behaviour added up is not entirely like you. Right now his priority is making sure you're comfortable.

He keeps this going as one by one the Nein goes to sleep, Caleb and by default you taking the first watch. You don’t yet feel comfortable removing yourself from Caleb’s arms but do find a more comfortable position for the both of you to spare you the numbness of limbs.

The longer you sit around your mind starts to feel less hazy, the hyper focus lessens and your stomach calls for sustenance, the nausea fading. Luckily Caduceus had saved you some leftovers which you happily nibble on. The spices and herbs providing extra flavours are intense but no longer unwelcome or nauseating. Regardless of what caused this all, you didn’t think Caduceus’ food could taste any better but damn does it taste beyond divine. You’ve rediscovered your appetite and finish the leftovers.

While sitting in Caleb’s embrace, head on his stomach holding the book you’re both reading Caleb’s coat long since returned to him you’re feeling mentally exhausted, but your mind is at ease, as if all stress and pressure of the world around you has faded for just a moment. You’re at peace in the arms of the man you love and surrounded by your friends.

The realisation that despite all the bad you’ve gone through together it’s all been worth it a thousand times over and you wouldn’t change a thing. A yawn escapes as you turn the page, knowing Caleb will have read it several times at this point.

“Tired?”

“Exhausted.”

“You’d think with all the breaks and rest you’ve already gotten today you’d have trouble sleeping again.” Caleb recalls the times where you’ve taken breaks before and spent half of the night up getting rid of the energy just to get a moment of sleep in the more stressful days where sleep does not come easily; days like the past few have been.

“I would have but none of those times did I actually catch a break. I was nauseas for hours, everything felt and looked intense, could only focus on one thing at the time visually even though for some reason I was hyper aware of my senses.” You turn the page again as Caleb pulls you a little closer, about to press a kiss to your shoulder. He stops, retreats and instead brushes his fingers over it.

“Maybe I was just on an exhaustion or anxiety high running on my last bit of energy and now we get a moment to relax and breathe, that’s what gotten me back to earth.” Caleb doesn’t respond and when you look up at him from over your shoulder you see Caleb closely inspecting the fingers he brushed over your shoulder.

“You know, I’m beginning doubt this change of mood was induced by exhaustion.” He runs his fingers together and you see the light dust pulverise. Confused you signal for Caleb to elaborate on his train of thought because you’re still feeling a little slow.

“Remember the tumble you took into the patch of flowers and mushrooms?”

“You mean when I got my ask kicked by an oversized lizard? Yeah, hard to forget.” You grasp at your ribs as if to relief a still lasting ache from the hit of the creature’s tail. You turn around, putting the book down and sit on your knees between Caleb’s legs as things begin to fall into place for the both of you. Your landing... Oh no...

“I don’t think that dust cloud upon impact was just dust or pollen.” You throw your head back and groan. Unbelievable. Through the lasting peace and calm you feel the embarrassment peak through as well as annoyance at the whole situation.

“So you’re telling me I’ve been tripping balls for the past six or so hours?”

“That is exactly what I’m saying.” Caleb states deadpanned before he breaks and laughs at you. You deserve it really. Stubbornness to admit something’s wrong is what got you so far. Should have told someone you weren’t feeling right and it definitely wasn’t exhaustion but no and it was already too late when the ‘beauty of the world’ took hold of your mind.

“Well then, take comfort that it’s not just the spores leave me completely enamoured with you.” You peck Caleb’s nose and poke his stomach to get him to quit laughing before he wakes up the others. You won’t hear the end of this that’s for damn sure so best to keep this incident between the two of you. Let the other’s believe you’re just over-exhausted.

#critical role #critical role x reader #critrole x reader #mighty nein x reader #mighty nein #caleb x reader #caleb widogast x reader

[ticklystuff]

Liquid Eyeliner

A/N: i know nothing about makeup lol i just wanted lee!Zhongli

Word Count: 2k

“I really like this color on you.”

“Hu Tao was actually the one that chose it for me,” Zhongli said, giving a slight smile to the other as he looked straight ahead, doing his best not to shift his head or move his facial muscles around too much. Normally, he would be applying the eyeliner under his eyes himself, but for some reason, Childe insisted on doing it this time for him. He wasn’t exactly comfortable about letting Childe put the brush so close to his eye, but the ginger had insisted and Zhongli wasn’t one to say no, especially since Childe bought the eyeliner for him earlier.

“I can tell you’re worried,” Childe said, pulling his hand back and giving the other a small pout.

Zhongli shook his head and gave the other a nervous smile. “Not at all. Just make sure you do it properly.”

“I’ve actually had some practice before,” Childe told the other as he brought his hand back, placing the tip of the brush right under Zhongli’s eye.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, my sister used to ask me to do make up with her when I was younger. I always tried to make her look like a circus clown,” Childe chuckled, keeping his hand steady. “She’d practice on me all the time too and she actually got quite good. I even let her paint my finger and toe nails.”

Zhongli smiled as he listened to Childe reminisce. Childe loved to tell Zhongli different stories about his siblings and Zhongli always caught the happiness in his voice when he spoke of his siblings. Childe always talked about having his siblings meet him and Zhongli looked forward to that day.

“Hmm,” Childe took a step back to examine his work. “I think I might have smudged it a little bit. I think I should just restart. Let me grab a wet napkin.”

“Water won’t remove it,” Zhongli told the other. “The media is oil-based, so the eyeliner is insoluble in water. I have a bottle of sweet flower oil in the drawer next to you that I use to wash the eyeliner off at night.”

Childe nodded and headed for the old drawer in Zhongli’s room. He opened the top drawer and couldn’t help but smile when he found the cologne he had purchased for Zhongli, the bottle half full. It was one of the many gifts that he had gotten for Zhongli during their multiple date nights in Liyue.

He rummaged around the top drawer for a good minute, before moving to the second drawer, making sure not to disturb the neat and orderly way Zhongli had placed his belongings. Thankfully, the bottle was in plain sight in the second drawer, with a piece of cloth conveniently placed beside it. He grabbed the two items before heading back to the older man, pouring a little of the solution onto the cloth and handing it to Zhongli.

“Maybe I should just do it myself,” Zhongli said as he did his best to wipe away the eyeliner, chuckling when Childe put his hands on his hips in defiance.

“I’ve already committed,” Childe told the other as he grabbed the thin brush before Zhongli could. “I’ll just steady my hand this time.”

“Alright, alright.” Zhongli sat back on his mattress, relaxing himself as Childe attempted once more.

Childe leaned in once more and brought the brush to Zhongli’s face again, but this time grabbed Zhongli’s shoulder firmly to help steady himself. This caught the older man by surprise, though, and Childe nearly jumped back in concern when Zhongli suddenly squealed.

“Sorry! Did I hurt you?!”

“No, I’m alright,” Zhongli affirmed to the other as he regained his posture. “Just caught me off guard.”

Childe looked at Zhongli with a puzzled expression. “Is there something wrong with your shoulder?”

Zhongli simply shook his head. “I’m alright. I’m not sure what came over me, but I’m fine.”

Childe nodded in response. He brought the brush back over to Zhongli’s face and brought his hand back to Zhongli’s shoulder, slowly this time, for balance. He carefully traced the brush under the amber eyes. He bit his lips and furrowed his eyebrows as he concentrated on the task before him, something that Zhongli found to be quite endearing.

“Alright,” Childe muttered as he reached the corner of Zhongli’s eyes, pulling the brush away to take a look at his handiwork, his hand still on Zhongli’s shoulder. “I don’t think it’s that bad, if I do say so myself.”

Zhongli gave Childe a small smile as the other beamed over his work. “I’ll judge for myself. There should be a hand mirror in the drawer that you- Ah! H-Hey!”

Zhongli’s body cringed as he felt Childe squeeze his shoulder multiple times, his arms coming up in self-defense when Childe repeated the action. He looked up at the ginger to see a mischievous smirk plastered over Childe’s face, one that usually meant Childe was up to no good.

“Looks like Mr. Zhongli might be ticklish,” Childe teased, his smile growing wider when Zhongli began to stutter.

“I-I don’t- Wait! Ajax!”

Childe had pushed Zhongli back onto the mattress and straddled his waist, looming over the other with wiggly fingers ready for an attack. Zhongli never used his real name, unless he was irritated with Childe, but this was too good of an opportunity for Childe to pass up now. He’s already used to being berated from Zhongli on a constant basis anyway.

“Ahahaha! Childe!” Zhongli squealed as Childe brought his fingers menacingly to the older man’s underarms. Since he was in the comfort of his own home, Zhongli only had a thin t-shirt for protection, the shockwaves traveling from his armpits and hitting his brain like a wave.

Zhongli wasn’t going down without a fight and Childe constantly had to keep swatting away his arms, making it hard for him to tickle the older man consistently. Naturally, the ginger adapted to Zhongli’s defense mechanism and focused on his sides this time, giving each spot rabid jabs, one after the other in quick succession. This caused Zhongli to wiggle back and forth, attempting to avoid the alternating blows to his sides. Each poke resulted in a gasp or whine filled with husky giggles, something Childe considered music to his ears and only drove him to pick up the pace. He had never heard Zhongli laugh so much and it was quite addictive, so he figured

“Y’know, I used to tickle my siblings all the time,” Childe recalled as he began focusing on Zhongli’s hips, smiling as he found another good spot. “If any one of them ever felt down, they could always expect a visit from their friendly neighborhood tickle monster!”

“Ahahahaha! Chihihilde!” Zhongli wailed as Childe continuously pinched his hips methodically, his laughter drowning out whatever Childe was saying to him in the moment.

The only time he had ever been tickled was whenever Hu Tao needed his attention and it was only ever a short poke to his side. Not only was Childe much more aggressive, he was also much more skilled. Every poke and scribble elicited a new stream of laughter and his attempts at dislodging Childe were proving futile. He felt Childe’s hands moving over to his stomach, which renewed Zhongli’s efforts to squirm away. By chance, one of his flailing hands jabbed Childe in the side, pausing the tickling as Childe squeaked and involuntarily protected the sensitive spot with his hands. Zhongli used this brief moment of respite to try and push away from Childe, but the ginger recovered almost immediately.

“Hmm, this used to work on Teucer, so I wonder if it’ll be the same for you,” Childe thought out loud as he eyed Zhongli’s stomach. His shirt had ridden up just slightly to expose the well-toned abs and bare tummy, which only enticed Childe to try a different technique. “Heh, don’t kill me, okay?

“W-Wait! Childe w-what are you— NohohoHOHOHOHOHO!”

Zhongli flopped around on the bed and kicked his legs as Childe blew a raspberry into his stomach. The unfamiliar technique brought tears to the corners of Zhongli’s eyes as Childe repeated the action over and over. The sensation created such a strange feeling that made Zhongli’s mind feel like mush. He didn’t even try fighting back anymore as Childe sent one more his way, before stopping when he noticed Zhongli’s laughter had turned into silent wheezing.

Childe raised his head from Zhongli’s stomach to make sure the other was okay, taking in the sight of the older man. Zhongli’s face was bright red and his eyes were still screwed shut, with his mouth agape as he panted for air. His normally well-kempt hair was a mess and there were even a few tear streaks. When Childe felt he was staring too long, he lightly diddled his fingers along Zhongli’s bare stomach, causing Zhongli to gasp and open his eyes.

“Oh, hey, your eyeliner still looks good,” Childe said as he brought a finger to Zhongli’s eye to wipe away a stray tear.

“I already told you it’s not soluble in water,” Zhongli told the other curtly after catching his breath, looking away from the other as he spoke. It wasn’t easy to embarrass Zhongli, but he could feel his cheeks burning up after the ordeal Childe put him through.

“Hey, don’t be mad at me,” Childe awkwardly laughed as he lifted himself off of Zhongli and helped him up. “Couldn’t help myself.”

Zhongli sat up and fixed his clothes with a sigh, pushing his long hair behind his shoulders. “I’d hate to be one of your siblings, to be quite frank.”

“Maybe, but being my sibling comes with so many pros!” Childe said, smiling at the other as Zhongli rolled his eyes. “Speaking of which, we haven’t gotten to your other eye.”

“I wonder why,” Zhongli huffed sarcastically as Childe picked up the brush again. He crossed his arms as Childe brought the brush to his face, but he let Childe apply the lining to his eye like before, flinching when Childe put his hand against his shoulder again for balance.

“Don’t worry,” Childe chuckled, finishing up the liner. He pulled back the brush and used his other hand to lift Zhongli’s chin so that he could get a better look at his work. “Looks great!”

“Well, this took almost three times as long as it normally takes me,” Zhongli said as Childe went to get the hand mirror from the drawer. He took the mirror from Childe and examined the eyeliner. It was a little messy, but it wasn’t that bad.

“So, how did I do?”

Zhongli looked up to see Childe giving his usual charming smile and Zhongli couldn’t help but return a small smile back. “One could say it’s passable.”

Childe couldn’t help but cheer at the small win. “You should let me do your makeup all the time, Zhongli.”

“Perhaps,” Zhongli sighed, the thought of possibly going through another tickle session with Childe daunting to him. “Next time, though, how about we try some eyeliner on you?”

“I-I mean sure, I guess,” Childe said hesitantly, scratching the back of his head. “I’m not sure it’d look good on me the way it does for you and I’m not sure what my color would be.”

“Well, we can always go shopping for some later,” Zhongli suggested. “Why don’t I show how to apply it properly, though. We can use the one that I have.”

“N-Now?”

“Why not?”

“O-Okay,” Childe said nervously as he sat down, switching places with Zhongli. “Hey, you’re not still mad at me, right?”

“Of course not,” Zhongli said firmly, grabbing a fresh brush from his drawer before returning to Childe. “I want to show you how it’s properly done. Tickles and all.”

“Wait what? W-Wait ZhonglihihiHIHI!”

#Chili #childe #zhongli #genshin impact #tickling