#like can you stick around for more than two minutes? please? Kay thanks

[ashes-writing]

wild one pt ten | stranger things ; g.emerson

tag list babes || req rules / fandoms+characters || send ?s || masterlist

CHAPTERS ; 

one + two + three + four + five + six + seven + eight + nine can all be found by clicking. stranger things masterlist is here.

AUTHORS NOTES;

Yeah, I know okay? I knowww. This story still has a chokehold on me though, so yeah I'm still writing it. This is just one more bit of filler before school begins for everybody. More fluff because I need it like I need air. That being said, there will be stress and angst and other little things here and there, so uh.. Please don't hate me if/when those start happening, 'kay?

Huuuge hugs and so much love to everyone who is actually still reading this fic of mine + any of my other writing because honestly when I came back and decided that maybe it was okay to share again, I was doing it with nothing more than the intent to get it out there and out of my head and I'll be honest, I still very much am. So all the interaction oh my god, you guys have me blown away, seriously. Like.. i can't even begin to express it -or thank you all enough.

SUMMARY;

-- cheerleaders and drummers/freaks don't mix. Or so it's been said. We'll see how this goes for these two, senior year is nothing if not stress-filled.

PAIRING;

Gareth Emerson x Fem!Reader

{ beyond outfits , side characters, glasses, female parts and personality, i triiiiied to make her blank, i s2g. i'm still learning and transitioning from OC to reader inserts }

WARNINGS;

an overload of fluff. awkward parental meetings but also cute (Gareth meets the dad). swearing. just cuteness here, not too much to worry about.

TAGLIST;

@allelitesmut

@aries-arcade

@aurumbelis

@cole22ann

@chieflawyerpastatoad

@ebonybloom

@fandomfreakforever

@hcloangcls

@heyaitsklaudia

@hoeshii

@hotgirlsshareaccounts

@krys-orion

@letsbedragonstogether

@louderfortheback

@musichealsscars

@oflavenderandevie

@scoobiessnacks

@suits-and-smirks

@secretsicanthideanymore

@thechoiceslookgrimm

@untitledarea are the only names on my stranger things taglist. if you'd like to be added please click the link up top or let me know.

OTHER STUFF;

Gareth has been aged to 18. The Upside Down has never existed here, this is slice of life stuff. That means Starcourt Mall exists and so does Benny's Diner and all the other places that were destroyed in the past. It also means absolutely no deaths and writer, making up her own weird attempt at an interesting plot, lol.

He’s nervous as hell about meeting your father. One, he’s never had to meet a girls parents before and two, he’s never been brought home as the boyfriend before. Third and final, your father is just a little intimidating, just a little imposing at about 6’1 with the burly muscles of a former athlete. Add to that that he’s been to jail before and yeah… Gareth Emerson is very intimidated, very nervous. 

He’s been standing on the step for nearly a minute, working on pulling himself together. He knocks and the door is thrown open by Max. He can hear the sounds of a race full blast on the television and Max nods to your closed bedroom door.

Inside the bedroom, you are frantically trying to at least clean a little so that Gareth doesn’t take one look at the space and realize he might just be dating an actual gremlin or something like that. You don’t hear Max when she calls your name over the full blast sound of your radio. Out in the living room, Max nudges Gareth and nods to your closed door. “She really likes you. She never even tries to clean her room, man.”

Gareth chuckles. But Max’s statement kind of sticks with him and as he lingers in the hallway, he’s smiling to himself just a little more.

“Go on, she’s not gonna mind.”

You’re just about to try tossing a heap of clothing into your closet when you turn and find yourself body to body with Gareth. And you’re blushing. Gareth’s eyes dart around, taking in the chaos that is your bedroom. The books all over the place, candles everywhere, posters for movies ranging from horror movies he recognizes to some movie he’s never even heard of but the poster has a black Trans Am similar to your car. 

The stuffed animals on your bed have him chuckling and you biting your lip and fidgeting as you try to stand so that you’re blocking his view, pouting at him as you lightly swat at his chest. “Hey!”

“It’s cute, baby.” Gareth is quick to reassure you and it really does help. You know Wes is only teasing because he’s your dad and he loves you, but he’s forever giving you shit about your softer side because he’s just not the best at being a girl dad.And you love him to pieces, but these are facts.

You smile a little. “Smart answer, baby. Because they weren’t going anywhere.” you gaze up at him when you say it. He laughs and shrugs. 

He spots your crossbow and picks it up, a brow raised.

All you do is shrug. “Wes, he ah.. He got it in his head a few years ago that he was going to take up hunting. Apparently, this meant that I, too, was going to pick it up. So we both got crossbows, we both learned to use said crossbows and now they just kind of sit around. Because ultimately, when he realized that hunting involved sitting outside in the cold and hours of waiting, he couldn’t be bothered.

“Yeah, remind me not to make you mad near this.” Gareth is teasing and you shrug, laughing softly. “To be fair, my aim is probably shit. I haven’t shot it in like.. Four years now?” you’re shuffling your feet against the thin carpet. “As you can see, I’m a mess. I was uh.. I tried to clean it up.” and you’re laughing softly. Gareth just shrugs. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh yes, yes I did. Trust me, before I did it was at least fifteen times worse.” you sweep your arms out to gesture at the chaos and disorder of the pale pink room you stand in the middle of and Gareth shrugs. “It wouldn’t have mattered.”

You hear your father booing a commercial and you grab hold of Gareth’s hand. You give him a reassuring smile because you can feel the tension rolling off him and you laugh softly. “Will you relax? He’s going to love you, okay?”

Gareth nods and swallows hard because he’s just not sure how this will go. He’s never been brought home by a girl to meet her parents. And he’s not entirely sure how to handle it now that he is. But it means so much to him that you want him to, it just further reassures him that you really mean it, that you really want to be his girlfriend and this won’t wind up hidden or something in a few days when school starts back.

You’re leading him into the living room, standing in front of the tv. Wes is nursing a Pabst and he looks from you to Gareth. You have a split second where you’re silently focusing all your will on Wes not playing to his inner antagonist tonight and scaring Gareth so much that he doesn’t want to come back around and you relax when your father nods and holds out a beefy and tattooed hand. “You the drummer? She’s always talking about you, kid. It’s nice t’ finally meet ya.” Wes rubs his chin and nods to you, “Gotta admit, I thought maybe she was makin y’ up, kid.”

“Oh my god, Wes!” you pout at your father. You can feel your face flame up and you palm your face. “Dude, that was not fair.” you pout at him. He chuckles and shrugs off the pout. “Your mama wasn’t a glassmaker, lil bit. Daddy can’t see the race.”

You step out from in front of the television and Wes chuckles. “It’s nice to meet you, kid. I’d tell y’ to treat her like a princess but I know my lil bit and I feel like maybe I should tell y’ good luck with that instead.” Wes is teasing you again and you stick out your tongue at him, shaking your head. “I’m not that bad, Wes, what the hell is today? Pick on trouble day?”

“Just have to have a little fun with you, lil bit. So, what are you two up to today?”

“We’re going to the mall. They put out that horror movie I’ve been dying to see, finally.”

“See if Max wants a lift, would ya? She’s too young t’ be bikin all over, especially by herself.” your father nods to Max’s bedroom door as he gives you a grin. 

“Yeah, I’ll ask.” you smile. You know what Wes is up to, you can almost sense it in his smirk. And since things are going reasonably well, you walk back to Max’s room to ask if she wants a lift anywhere since you’re about to leave.

And out in the living room, Wes chuckles, gazing at where Gareth is standing as he nods to the sofa. “Grab a seat kid, you’re makin me nervous with the hovering.” Gareth sits down on the end of the sofa and he’s staring intently at his hands. This situation being new to him and your father being intimidating, he’s not about to risk saying anything that might make your father dislike him.

He’s surprised when Wes glances back. “Trouble’s gon’ kill me but… you wanna see some cute but embarrassing shit, kid?”

Gareth nods and Wes grabs a photo album from a cheap and sagging entertainment center and holds it out to him. “Go on, it’s okay, kid. She’s gonna strangle me, not you.” Wes laughs and adds with a smirk, “But I’m her father, I can embarrass her now and then.”

Gareth laughs and flips through the photo album, stopping on a photo of you being held by the bartender at the Hideout. Wes chuckles and nods to it. “Angel’s an old friend. Basically stepped in and saved me from fuckin up the poor kid entirely when her ma just bailed for Nevada.”

“She really loves you. She doesn’t think you fucked up.” Gareth muses, gazing at the older man with the graying braid and beard. Wes rubs his face and nods. “I know, just.. I was the last person who shoulda been trusted with a kid back then, man, let alone a daughter.”

Gareth doesn’t say it, but he’s thinking to himself that maybe being your father helped you a lot. Because you’re not like most girls he knows, you’re not fake and you didn’t immediately become a bitch when you got in with a popular set of people. You’re really independent and he finds this really hot and infuriating at times in equal measure. And now that he’s seeing your softer side, he really thinks that your father should give himself a lot more credit.

But what floors him is when Wes adds quietly, “I really like you, kid. And I know she does too. Even if sometimes, she doesn’t say it a lot. She’s more of an actions person, ‘kay? Just between us men.” he’s trying to reassure Gareth that you do really seem to like him a lot and that he knows you well enough to know that whether Gareth realizes it or not, he’s become one of the few people you really let in.

He’s saying it as your father, in the hopes that you don’t wind up getting hurt for it later down the line.

Because as your father, he knows this is the first time you’ve really gotten attached to a person like this.

You spot the photo album on the table between your father and your boyfriend and you palm your face as you glance at your dad. “Seriously, Wes? You seriously show him all that shit? Why?”

Wes chuckles and shrugs. “Seemed like a good idea at th’ time, trouble. You’re flustered, so it amuses me.”

“Ugh!” you’re pouting. Shaking your head and your face is hot. You’re just hoping to hell Gareth didn’t get to the latter part of the photo album because when your awkward phase hit, it hit you hard. Like ten rounds in the ring with Muhammad Ali. And it didn’t actually let up until the tenth grade. 

“We’ll be back around like.. 10? 11?” you tell your father as you shove your keys into your pocket. Wes chuckles. “That works. Call if the movie runs over or something, kid. Take the tool kit! That damn car’s been iffy as hell lately!” your father calls out to you as you practically drag both Gareth and Max out the door of the trailer.

“I can literally die, right now. I can’t believe he showed you that.” you’re laughing and shaking your head. Gareth chuckles and shrugs. Smirking as he opens the door of the car up and nods to it, holding out his hand for your key.

“Excuse?” you’re pouting at him. Gareth laughs. “I’ll drive, alright, baby? You drive like you’ve got a thousand lives to spare.”

“I do not!”

“You actually kinda do.” Max pipes up from the backseat.

“You hush! You were okay with it when I was doing that burnout in the parking lot last week.”

“Yeah, because you made that stupid idiot frat boy choke on his words. But you behind the wheel is kind of scary.” Max laughs when she says it and you flip her off. “You got jokes today, do ya?” you’re teasing, laughing at her. “We’re supposed t’ be sisters, kid.”

You pout at them both but you place the keys in Gareth’s hand.

As you’re driving into town, Gareth chuckles. “It didn’t go as bad as I was thinking it would.”

You smile and nod, reaching out to caress his cheek. “I told you, didn’t I? I told you he only looks scary. He’s an actual giant baby.”

Gareth nods and laughs, the remainder of his tension back at your house melting away with the speed of light. You lace your fingers through his and lean back against the seat a little. “Max, did you want to go to El’s house or with us?”

“With you guys if it’s okay? El said she’d meet me there, Hopper is bringing her.”

You smile and nod. “Duh, of course it’s okay.”

She smiles at you. 

As you’re getting out at the mall, Gareth slips an arm around your waist and you lean into his side as you walk in through the entrance. When you spot Caroline and her two friends, you roll your eyes. Gareth tenses, because he’s just spotted Andy, Chance and Patrick.

You pick up on the tension and you glance up at him, leaning against him even more. “Relax, okay? Just don’t let them get in your head.” and Gareth nods, but old habits die hard and he’s struggling with something right now. The little nagging doubt that somehow, they’ll get in your head and everything will be over.

“I mean it, baby. Don’t let them get in your head.” you repeat quietly, cuddling against him even more. “I want you. I mean that. You’re too easy to read, alright? I know what you were thinking just now.”

“Okay, alright. I’m just, ah.” he chuckles, biting back a groan as you melt against him and gaze up asking softly, “Yeah, baby?”

“I’m not used to this.”

“Me either. But it’ll be okay. You just can’t let them get in your head, baby.” you reassure him, raising up to plant a kiss against his lips and he deepens it. Max grumbles from nearby and you stick out your tongue at her as the little kiss breaks. She’s spotted El, so she takes off in that direction and you laugh. “Like she’s got any room to grumble, the amount of times I’ve walked in on her with Sinclair all cozied up together on the couch in the living room.”

Gareth snickers about it and nods. You gape at the line still left ahead of you. “We could wait until another night to see this. I mean, we’re never gonna get a ticket at this rate, people keep jumping the line.” Gareth laughs and nods. “We could.”

“C’mon. Let’s just like.. Wander around.” you’ve grabbed hold of his hand and he laughs, nodding.

The mall isn’t his favorite place but being there with you makes it just slightly better.

#gareth emerson #gareth the great #gareth emerson imagine #gareth emerson fanfiction #gareth emerson x reader #gareth emerson x fem!reader

[tanushakyrano]

febuwhump day 11: fever

we will pretend that it is not a couple minutes after midnight please and thank you,,, bit more light-hearted one today!

characters: Gordon, Alan, Kayo

additional warnings: none

_____________

The thing that finally takes him out is the flu, because of course it is. Two years of WASP and two more in iR refusing to be kept down by injuries, but he catches the common cold and suddenly Gordon is confined to his bed for a full week.

It had started out as a sore throat. Not too bad, he just downed a honeyed tea in the morning and hoped for the best.

Then, like an idiot, he'd gone on a rescue to Antarctica.

That had been the straw that broke the camel’s back.

He wakes on Saturday morning feeling like he's been dragged through a hedge in his sleep. Every limb aches. He has a headache that ranks easily in his top ten most painful over the course of his life, and that's including all the concussions. The light hurts his eyes. Gordon groans, and curls up under the covers as if he's five again, and not being able to see the world will mean the world can't see him and therefore his problems will magically disappear.

It doesn't work.

He's too hot and too cold all at the same time, but in the end the hot overpowers the cold and he struggles out from under his tangled sheets to try and get a breath of fresh air. His skin feels all sort of sticky, which really, really sucks.

The sheets aren't completely enveloping him any more, but he's still too hot and he kicks them off. It takes him a minute; clearly he’d tossed and turned so much in his sleep that they’ve coiled around him, trapping his limbs.

All of a sudden he just really wants a nice cool glass of water.

Down to the kitchen it is, then. The world spins alarmingly as he pushes himself up off the bed, which is fine, right? It's fine. He's fine. Just needs a second for his head to clear.

The bare floorboards are delightfully cool on his feet. Gordon pads out of his room, one hand on the wall as he heads downstairs.

Unfortunately, the kitchen is not empty when he gets there. Alan is mid-fridge-raid, eating pickles straight out of the jar, looking distinctly like a raccoon rooting around for scraps in the trash. Gordon tries to sneak past him quietly, just get a drink of water and head off somewhere else, but his body is not having it. His limbs are all disjointed. He catches his foot on the tiles and all of a sudden Gordon is lying face-up on the floor, a wide-eyed face staring back at him in concern.

"You look like shit," Alan deadpans, crouching next to him.

Gordon groans.

Alan sits him up carefully against the island. Gordon's head is pounding even worse after it slammed full speed into the ground, white-hot needles sticking into his skull. His brother's hand rests against his forehead, wonderfully cold against the fire in his body.

"Dude. You're like, really sick." Alan's kneeling by his side. "You should be in bed."

"Bed is for losers," Gordon mumbles. Alan raises an eyebrow. Clearly, he's not impressed.

"Alan? Are you still-"

Kayo stops mid-sentence, head poking round the doorway. "Oh. What's wrong with you?"

"He's sick," Alan informs her, despite Gordon's attempts to speak over him and claim that he's fine, actually, he just needs a glass of water. "He fell over."

Kayo sighs, coming over to crouch at his other side. "How about we get you somewhere comfier than the floor?"

Being not on the floor sounds pretty great to Gordon about now. He nods, and Kayo slings one of his arms around her shoulders and hauls him up. It sets the whole room off spinning again.

"C'n I have… some water?" he asks, the words tripping over themselves on his tongue.

"Course." Kayo raises her eyebrows at Alan - still hovering round them both, unsure of what to do - and he nods in understanding after a second, heading over to the cupboard with the glasses in it. "You can have a drink once we're sat down in the den, okay?"

" 'Kay." He chuckles. "Get it? Cause…I said okay. 'N you're Kayo."

She shoots him a look. "Your endless wit continues to astound me."

"Love you too…"

They're halfway to the couch when Gordon's brain shorts out. He's trying his best, he really is, but his head just hurts so much and his ankle's still twinging from when he fell in the kitchen. It doesn't faze Kayo, though; she simply scoops him up, carrying him the rest of the way before laying him down on the couch, propped up by the cushions.

Alan helps him sip at the water he's brought in from the kitchen. Kayo tucks a blanket over him. It's nice. Better than lying on the floor, anyway.

The drowsiness that's been deep in his bones since he opened his eyes that morning finally takes ahold of him. Surrounded by his siblings, Gordon sleeps.

#thunderbirds are go #cora writes #gordon tracy #alan tracy #kayo kyrano #febuwhump23 #whump

[insomniacwriter17]

I don't remember if this was ever mentioned but in the TLB universe does billy wear his earring while dropped? (this question just came to me and I cannot rest until I find out lmao)

You know, I don’ think I’ve ever mentioned it, but I have Thoughts™️ on the matter! (Is anyone shocked?)

- Billy doesn’t like to wear his earring when he’s Little

- if he’s wearing a stud, it’s all pokey when he tries to lay down and that just Doesn’t Feel Good. and if it’s the hoop, the dangly feeling is just really weird to him

- but he’s also really bad at remembering to take it out when he drops, so more often than not, Stevie ends up taking it out for him

- the first time Stevie reached over to take the earring out, Billy flinched away and both of them got really sad about it.

- “Oh buddy, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, you just keep tugging at your ear and I thought you wanted me to take your earring out so you can lay down.”

“O-oh. It’s k-kay.” and then Billy just tilts his head to the side so Stevie could take the earring off. he still closed his eyes when Stevie’s hand got close to his face, but now it doesn’t even phase him in the slightest.

- most of the time, he doesn’t even realize Stevie’s doing it, he just keeps playing/eating/snuggling. but Billy will just tilt his head to the side when Stevie gets close, letting the other pull the earring off without any kind of fight.

- but Billy doesn’t like not wearing his earring when he’s Big, so he has to hunt Steve down the next day for it back because it always just ends up in Steve’s pants pocket

- “can’t you just put it in my room?” he all but whines as he puts the earring back on. he’s already almost late to work, but he’s got a few minutes to stand there and tease steve. “there’s a little tray on my nightstand and everything.”

“oh I’m sorry, I was a little busy making sure you didn’t burn the place down,” Steve teases. “didn’t have time to leave you alone.”

“please,” Billy scoffs. “i’m the most well-behaved Little you’ve ever seen. you can leave me alone for two seconds.” Steve just rolls his eyes and says he’ll try to remember next time (he never does).

- and Stevie loves it when he has his Little Buddy around, but damn it, Steve loves the earring. he loves watching Billy put it back on, because more often than not his tongue sticks out of the corner of his mouth in concentration and its just so damn attractive.

- steve apparently has a thing for earrings that he didn’t know about, and he tries to find excuses to buy Billy new earrings.

- just like Stevie can’t help buying toys for Billy when he’s Little, Steve’s a sucker for buying Billy a new pair of earrings if the other so much as looks at them for a moment too long.

- so no, Billy doesn’t like to wear his earring when he’s Little. it’s just too Big of a thing and he’s just a small lil guy 🥺

(thank you for coming to my Ted talk❤️)

#blurb #steve harrington #billy hargrove #nsap #classification au #little! billy hargrove #caregiver! steve harrington #harringrove

[nascar-fanfics]

the mason sisters: two

summary: mercy has her meeting with each current hendrick driver, katelyn's crush is revealed, mercy also has a slight anxiety attack and puts herself down

word count: 1451

warnings: swearing, anxiety attack

next chapter | masterlist

(a/n: i created a character descriptions carrd! it’s on the masterlist, which you can find here!)

song after song, nerves between the sisters grew. they quietly sang to songs, which they never do. it’s always off-key singing screaming bouncing off the leather seats of their car. eventually, the sisters pulled into the parking lot of hendrick motorsports at 2:48, less than fifteen minutes until the meeting with rick hendrick. mercy was anxious about literally everything going on. she felt as if she should be excited, but she can’t even think straight. she’s won multiple races in the xfinity series, broken records in xfinity and trucks, and is excellent at everything she does. “hey, merc, stop overthinking… you’re the one with the psychology degree, you’re gonna be fine.” katelyn said with a smile, patting her older sister on her shoulders. mercy took a deep breath and shut her eyes, a tear falling down her cheek. “i’m gonna fuck up my career. rick is gonna hate me the second i step in there. i’m gonna make a fool of myself in front of my future coworkers. you look like me, can you do it for me? i can’t fucking do this.” mercy rarely ever showed this side of her. growing up, katelyn would always speak up for mercy. you’d think the older sibling would be more outspoken and such? not for the mason sisters. katelyn was always mouthy and always the peacemaker, while mercy stood in the corner contemplating leaving the room or building and going home due to her major social anxiety. katelyn grabbed her sister’s shoulders and turned her upper torso. “mercy-kay mason, you are going to kill this. you’re going to be amazing. ignore those stupid anxious thoughts, you’re not gonna fuck this up, you’re gonna kill it!” katelyn convinced her older sister to get into the building earlier than she wanted to be. mercy wanted to walk in at 2:55, but she jumped out of the car at 2:50 and made her way to the doors, trying to ignore her thoughts. she opened the doors and looked around, realizing this is going to be her new headquarters. her eyes met with her new coworker, chase elliott, who was headed to the bathroom. “ah, miss mason,” the dawsonville native smiled, walking towards her. katelyn bolted through the door, realizing her sister went inside. she saw chase and mercy shaking hands and decided to walk calmly toward them. “welcome to hendrick motorsports, we’re pretty much ready for you. follow me in.” “thank you, sir. is there anywhere i can put my younger rascal of a sister?” mercy chuckled, katelyn sticking her tongue out. “yeah, she can come in. i think mr. h will be okay with that!” he smiled, leading the way to the office. ‘this isn’t so bad.’ mercy thought to herself as she tapped her cheek once again. the world felt as if it was in slow motion. mercy stepped into the room and saw her hero, jimmie johnson, talking with her future teammate, alex bowman. william byron, the youngest member of hendrick motorsports, turned towards chase, who announced “guys, mercy-kay mason is here. i assume mr. h is just getting the papers together?” jimmie turned to chase, nodding. “yeah, he’s taking a bit of time. he probably wants us to talk with the newbie.” mercy couldn’t believe her hero was right in front of her. it took her a few seconds to even open her mouth, which moved up and down like she was a fish. william chuckled, waving. “hi, mercy! i’m william, but i think you knew that.” he stood up, giving mercy a handshake. “hi, william. i’m mercy, but i also think you knew that.” mercy chuckled, looking behind her to see katelyn amazed at the talent in the room. “holy shit, merc, i’m gonna shit myself.” everyone laughed at katelyn’s statement, especially mercy, who felt the same way. “kate, please don’t. i cleaned you enough times when we were kids.” mercy turned towards the men in the room, “sorry, she’s a little rascal. has been since day one.” “hey!” katelyn pouted, folding her arms and turning her back towards mercy. after a few more seconds of laughter, alex introduced himself next. “hey, mercy. long time no see.” alex and mercy shook hands, smiles on their faces. “good to see you again. you’re pretty badass, i have to admit it.” mercy’s cheeks grew red by the millisecond. “hi, alex! yeah, it’s been a while… 2018? 2019?” the pair unlocked hands, “i appreciate the compliment! no one has ever called me badass besides the little rascal. you’re pretty badass, too.” mercy chuckled, fixing her shirt. “yeah, somethin’ like that. i think the last time we saw each other was my last xfinity start. michigan, right? you did really well that year, can’t wait to see you on the track in the cup series.” alex beamed, a small chuckle escaping. “yep, michigan! i can’t wait to finally race for hendrick. it’s been my dream since childhood.” mercy blushed a bit,  noticing jimmie coming up to her, making her nerves go crazy. “holy shit, you’re real.” mercy mumbled, not realizing she actually spoke. katelyn laughed as she shook william’s hand, having a small conversation with him, chase, and alex. jimmie chuckled, “i get that a lot, i can’t believe you’re real!” mercy smiled, negative thoughts gone. “sir, you’ve been my idol since day one, i literally saw you win your seventh championship from the stands, i-i cheered so much with my mom, my voice was gone the next day.” jimmie smiled, “so that was the loud scream i heard! call me jimmie, we’re practically teammates now.” the newest hendrick driver nodded and chuckled, hearing a knock on the doorframe, seeing rick hendrick, her new boss, come in. “ah, so i’m the late one this time.” he chuckled. “hi miss, how are you?” “i’m fantastic, sir. i’m just so proud of my big sister.” katelyn smiled at mercy, who practically had tears in her eyes. “hi miss mason, thanks for coming in so quickly.” mercy held her hand out to shake mr. hendrick’s, a small shake between the two. “he-hello, sir, this is a huge dream of mine. i won’t disappoint you, sir.” mercy slightly shook with nerves. “i’ve seen what you’ve done, you haven’t disappointed me at all. you’ve got talent, kid.” rick smiled, holding his hand out to a chair. “come, sit down, we’ve got stuff to talk about.”

after the meeting with rick, mercy and katelyn headed to their car. mercy, who was relieved the meeting went well, spotted alex coming over to her side of the car. “hey, i, uh, wanted to ask if you and katelyn would like to come out to dinner tonight? we can finally have a conversation outside of the track and social media.” alex scratched the back of his neck, a nervous chuckle escaping him. “yeah! i know i’d like to, how about you, kate?” mercy turned to katelyn, who was texting a friend. “yeah, sure, that sounds great.” “she’s distracted by someone, maybe her boyfriend?” mercy dragged out ‘boyfriend’, making alex laugh. “shut up, you’re practically-” “alright, that’s enough, katelyn.” mercy turned back to alex, “absolutely. we’re coming to dinner! can i bring our parents? they’ve been such an important part of my life.” “i think jimmie’ll be alright with that! he said he’s buying.” alex grabbed his phone from his pocket. “can i get your info? i’ll text you where we’re going.” “yeah, here’s my number.” mercy recites her phone number, then gives alex her sister’s number as a backup. “text me so i know who you are, please!” two dings came from mercy’s phone, one being from alex and the other katelyn. 

unknown number: ‘Hey, it’s Alex! You now have my number :)’

rascal: ‘just get married already, holy shit.’

“katelyn marie!” mercy yelled, making alex laugh. “alright, i’ll see you tonight! we’re not going anywhere super fancy, but you can dress up if you’d like.” “okay, thanks alex. see you tonight!” the pair waved and mercy climbed into her car. katelyn smirked at her older sister, whose face was as red as loudon the lobster. “shut up.” mercy mumbled, starting her car and heading back home. when she pulled out of the parking lot, she got a text from jimmie.

‘Alex said that you wanted to invite your parents? They can come along! I wanna meet the people who raised the next best thing.😁’

“holy shit, jimmie said i’m the next best thing!” mercy yelled, a huge smile on her face. “well, you are!” katelyn praised, in awe at how amazing her sister is. dinner with the new family is next, and the sisters couldn’t wait to tell their parents.

#nascar

[opalsrose]

push + pull

bolin x afab reader

a/n: reader and their brother are born and raised water tribe people so they will be described with brown/dark skin and hair. other than that all other characteristics are up for your own imagination. and despite reader being afab, their pronouns are they/them. this takes place after season 2, i won't be following the plot of season three to a t but some aspects (such as kai and zaheer) but majority of the plot will be of my own creation.

edit: thank you @wheredreaminggetsdrastic for helping with the title <3

“what is this all about?!” tenzin grumbled, sitting down on one of the cushions aligning the kitchen table. “i’m supposed to be training the new recruits in ten minutes.”

korra rolled her eyes at the older man, placing her hands on her hips. “well this is just as important as training air nomads. raava’s been telling me that there’s been a recent shift in spiritual energy,” she spoke gruffly, eyeing the two retired pro fighters who stood idly in the corner.

“what do you mean ‘energy shift’? don’t spirits remain the same?” bolin questioned, his arms resting across his chest.

“korra means that there’s another being that has caused a change in the spirit world’s energy,” jinora stated, looking over to bolin.

“do you know what it is?” mako asked.

korra shook her head. “That’s why I called this meeting. raava wanted you all to be here for this.”

“well, miss giant peace spirit, what is it that you wanted us for?” Bolin questioned.

korra deadpanned at the young earth bender before sighing. “all raava told me was that something powerful has emerged since harmonic convergence and it’s on its way here.”

“do you think it’s another dark spirit?” asami voiced.

korra only shook her head. “dark spirits don’t really shift the energy in the spirit world.”

“could it be another unalaq situation?” tenzin fretted, his large eyebrows furrowing in worry.

korra huffed, looking out the window. “i-i don’t know! all i know is that whatever this...thing is, it’s powerful and is coming to republic city. soon.”

“we seriously need to find another place to live. i got lost like eight times around the same snow bank,” jian whined, wiping snow off of his coat with his free hand, his other hand occupied with a bag of food.

you rolled your eyes at your brother. “if you want to go and buy a house with the four copper pieces we have, then be my guest,” you uttered as you set out the firewood. “can you light this please so I can start cooking?”

jian huffed, a small puff of air floating in front of him before dissipating. he shuffled over to the fire pit, inhaling deeply before moving his arm swiftly, his hand in a fist as a small blast of fire rushed from it and into the kindling, the small sticks and pieces of wood setting aflame.

you breathed a quick thanks as you set a stone pot over the fire, twirling your hand over a bowl filled with water. the liquid ripples before a large sphere of water floats out of the bowl, following your hand as you guide it into the pot.

jian sits in front of the flame, watching you as you prepare dinner. “you think we’ll ever actually have a house?” he questioned, catching you pause as you skinned the fish.

you looked up at your brother sadly, sighing as you brought your gaze back to the fish. “i hope so, jian. i hope so.”

you both sat in silence, the crackling of the flame permeating the still air. a small plop was heard as a pile of snow fell onto jian’s head. he sputtered, shaking his head to rid it of the sudden coldness that encompassed it.

you raised an eyebrow at him, watching as he ran his fingers through his hair. “you said you weren’t followed, right?” you questioned, eyes holding a skeptical look within them.

jian looked at you quizzically. “i never said anything about being followed…” he trailed off, shutting his eyes, focusing his energy. a second later, his grey orbs shot open, wide and filled with fear. “get down!” he yelled, grabbing your shoulder and pulling down, just barely avoiding the sharp blade of a spear being swiped through your small igloo.

“they’re in here!” you heard from outside, followed by a multitude of heavy footsteps.

“shit!” you cursed quietly, pulling your hood over your head. you held a finger up to your lips as you looked at jian, signaling him to remain quiet.

the footsteps outside of your hut came to a stop, seeming to surround the both of you. you silently scooted towards the center of the igloo, getting into a crouching position and bringing your arms close to your chest. you looked at jian, seeing him ready in the same position. he gave you a quick nod as his face set in with cold determination.

your head snapped back forward to the entrance of the igloo, hearing slow footsteps approaching the opening. silently with bated breath, you waited as the intruder approached. when they were just a meer foot away from the entrance, your hand formed a blade, shooting outward and freezing the snow below the stranger's foot. you brought your arm up causing the ice to crawl up their torso, shouts of panic and anger following swiftly after.

the fast crunching of snow against heavy boots brought you to look to the back of your once secluded hut, pushing both your arms out with your palms facing outwards, causing a block of ice to eject from the pure white walls and towards an enemy.

jian was quick to move in front of the hole, fiercely punching out blasts of fire at all who dared to come closer. you slid out of the entrance, waving your arms in a circular motion as you wrapped what looked to be a guard in a rope of water, whipping them around and flinging them off into the distance.

“jian! it’s time to go!” you shouted, separating your fingers and moving your arms in sharp motions to form a wall of ice between you and your opponents. jian blasted his way out of your now destroyed hut, grabbing your hand and running off towards town.

“don’t let them get away!” you heard behind you, with sounds of fast footsteps and clanging metal tailing you both.

you and jian weaved through crowds and merchant kiosks, knocking things over in an attempt to get more distance between you and the guards.

your eyes narrowed in on the dock, seeing a ship being loaded up as it was preparing to leave.

“this way!” you pulled your brother along with you, dashing towards the boat, tripping over small snow mounds only to quickly regain your footing as you continued running.

your e/c eyes widened as the cargo door began closing, a distressed noise being heard beside you as jian began pushing to make it to the sea craft.

he reached his arm up, his fingers curled as he focused on the particles within the metal door before pulling his arm to his chest. the door creaked at the invisible force keeping it open against its will. he groaned at the effort, sweat beginning to tickle his tanned forehead as he grit his teeth.

once you made it, you used the snow to boost yourself in before reaching down to grab jian’s freehand.

as you pulled him in, a guard grabs his foot, yanking at his leg in an attempt to rip him from your grasp. “oh no you fuckin’ don’t,” he grinned evilly, pulling harshly on jian.

your brow furrowed angrily at the man, easing your free hand. “let...go...of my...brother!” you roared, thrusting your hand forward and releasing a large gust of wind at the man.

he flew back into a pile of crates, smashing them. he groaned as he watched you pull jian into the boat, defeatedly gazing as the door finally closes and the boat sets off.

his fellow guards caught up to him, one of them rushing to help him up.

“are you okay captain?” she asked hastily, grabbing his arm and hoisting him up.

“i’m fine, but we’ve lost the targets,” he grumbled frustratedly, dusting off himself off.

“do you know where they’re headed sir?” another guard inquired, following their captain’s gaze out to the boat that was far off in the distance.

“they’re on their way to republic city.”

#legend of korra #lok x reader #bolin x reader #mako lok #bolin lok #asami sato #asami lok #tlok korra #tenzin lok #jinora lok #pema lok #avatar the last airbender #atla

[cades-outsider]

Older Johnny Lawrence X Reader *SMUT*

Warnings? SMUT! SMUT! Language! And praising!

Praise Me

Walking along the side walk you smile to yourself as Cobra Kai comes into view, one of your good friends Johnny Lawrence had opened up his very own dojo. You knew his past with his sensei Krease, Johnny after much trusting had told you everything that Krease had put in his head and done to him.

Johnny explained that he was not going to put the kids in that situation Krease had done to him and his friends. Pushing open the door the famous bell chimes as you walk in, the door closing behind you.

Johnny comes out of the back drying his hands with a towel, he smiles once he sees that it’s you. "Y/n hey" he greets pulling you into a hug.

You inhale his scent which consisted of fresh green mint, causing you to swoon as you hugged back. "Hey Johnny" you giggle.

Oh how much he loved that pretty giggle of yours, it was music to his ears. "Where’s Miguel" You ask curiously as you both pulled away from the hug.

"His mom called him, she said she needed to speak to him about something" Johnny shrugs throwing the towel on the beating mannequin as you like to call.

"How about we talk in my office" He says smugly, now that he had a office causing you to giggle.

"I’d like that Sensei Lawrence" You play along as he takes your hand and leads you into his office.

He goes to his fridge and pulls out one of his Coors Banquets Beers "want one?" He questions looking at you.

You debate for a moment before shaking your head "sure, why not" you start "-I gotta see what the hype is about these, they must be good if the Johnny Lawrence loves them" You tease as he takes the two beers and places them on his desk.

He sits in his office chair while you sit in the comfortable chair on in front of him "well then-" he stops for a moment to do his famous 'beer opening trick' "-here you go" he says handing it over to you before doing the same with his.

He holds his beer up in the air "to...." he hums as he thinks of nothing to celebrate to causing you to laugh.

"To Johnny Lawrence doing something he loves" You say rising your beer up hitting it with his gently.

Johnny smirks shaking his head before taking a sip, you do the same "Hmm, pretty good Lawrence" you chuckle as you hold the bottle in your hand resting it on your thigh.

"Speaking of love.... have you been seeing anybody?" Johnny asks taking a bigger gulp of his beer this time.

You chuckle "nope, I swear I grew up in the wrong time" You joke.

Johnny raises his brows "why do you say that?" He asks curiously.

You sigh "it’s just the men, well I can’t even say men. Boys, are so not gentlemen like at all" You say shaking your head.

"Why what are they like now?" He asks genuine.

"They are definitely not romantic-" you scoff "-they don’t open doors for me, or the don’t do any romantic gestures" you sigh "-there just not educated" you giggle at the last part causing Johnny to smile.

"Oh and the sex!" You groan throwing your head back "-the sex is just horrible" You finally let loose.

You notice Johnny’s hands grip his beer firmer as his hand starts to turn white before he calms down "seems like you get the young and dumb batch" he chuckles gulping down some more beer.

"Ugh, remember my last relationship?" You question.

"Oh that guy was a dick, I can’t believe he did that to you" Johnny says gritting his teeth.

"Me either" you say remembering the time your ex treated you so badly you ran to Johnny’s at three am at night, but he held you that whole night not complaining once.

"But you were there for me" You hum as a small smile forms onto your lips.

Johnny smiles "always" he says as your eyes connect, his beautiful icy clue ones piercing through yours as if he was reading everything about you in that moment.

  "Johnny I need to tell you something" You say breaking the already sexual tension.

  He clears his throat "yes?" He asks taking another sip of beer.

  'I'm into you' You think "I'm into older men" But you actually say.

  Johnny's eye widen, until slowly a small smile appears on his face now feeling confident that he could have a chance with you.

  "Let me prove to you that all men aren't like that" He stops for a moment "-let me take you out on a date" he finishes as he slides the unfinished beer in the trash beside him.

  You're taken aback but also excited seeing as you have kinda caught feelings for him "alright deal" you smile.

  Johnny smiles widely in return "great I'll pick you up at 7" he says with a small smirk.

  "In the firebird?" You smirk.

  "You know it baby" Johnny winks as you get up, getting ready to leave.

  He stands up "give me that, I don't need my gir-" he stops before shaking his head "-I don't need you drinking and driving" he says taking the beer from you and placing it in the trash.

You chuckle at his antics "I wasn’t even going to carry it" you say sticking out your tongue at him playfully.

"Hey. That’s offensive" He says 'seriously' as he leans on the wall.

"Oh I bet Sensei" You joke as you start walking out of the office.

"I’ll see you at seven!" You hear Johnny yell as he runs out of the office.

You turn around "I’ll see you at seven" you repeat as a blush forms over your cheeks.

Johnny rushes over to the door and opens it for you letting you walk out, as he does he kisses your cheek. As you walk out of the building and into your car, your heart races as you could not believe that just happened.

On the way home all you could do was smile, excited for your date with Johnny. Someone who you caught feeling for on the first day of meeting but didn’t know.

You make it home and start rummaging through your dresses trying to pick out something not to like 'desperate' as they call or something to revealing.

You finally just decide on a white well fit thigh high dress and some black heels. You weren’t insecure about your body, but sometimes you would get self cautious.

Deciding to go all out tonight you apply the littlest amount of make up and curl your hair.

Meanwhile, Johnny was throwing almost every piece of clothing he owned around his room, panicking as he couldn’t find anything to wear. With a frustrated sigh he throws all his clothes back in his closet before seeing a white suit catch his eye.

'That’s the one' he thought as he picked it up and slid it on. By the time you both were done it was around 6:50. Johnny was thankful that you only lived five minutes away from him.

He quickly got in his fire bird and made his way to you. You were more excited than anything. I mean how often is it that a guy you like asks you out on a date, and especially a decent guy.

Johnny arrived at your door at exactly 7 o'clock on the dot. Hearing a knock on your front door you walk as fast as you can to the door in heels, letting out a breath of nervousness as you open the door.

  Johnny looks up, his mouth gape open as he looks at your beauty "I- wow were matching" you say noticing Johnny's white suit that he looked mighty fine in.

  "-wow you look beautiful" Johnny says mind blown, I mean he always admired you and thought you were the most gorgeous girl but now you just looked breath taking.

"Thank you Johnny, you look handsome... as always" you compliment with a sweet smile.

The smallest blush falls onto his face, so faint you almost missed it. Johnny holds out his hand gesturing for you to take it "shall we go?" He asks as you take his hand.

  "We shall" You comment with a side smile.

He leads you to his well cleaned up fire bird, rushing to your side to open the door for you "my lady" he jokes, you giggle as you slide into the passengers seat.

"Thank you may gentlemen" You blush, as Johnny runs over to his side entering the car and cranking it up.

The drive was silent, comfortable silence of course. You both were just simply enjoying each other's company as you finally made it to your destination.

A small fancy Italian restaurant, Johnny gets out of his side and rushes to your side opening the door before you could even put your hand on the handle to get out.

You smile as your heart swells with joy and love, "thank you" you comment politely as you get out of the car.

Johnny closes the door and takes your hand "my pleasure love" He says grabbing your hand and walking you up to the door once again opening the door for you leading you in.

  A waitress leads you to your guys table handing you your menus and asks for your drink preference. Soon she leaves giving you some time to pick out your orders before bringing your favorite drink back and Johnny's coke.

  You both order your meals after she returns, before going back and putting your orders in. You rest your chin on your hand as you gaze up at Johnny.

Johnny freezes "what? Is there something on my face?" He asks wiping his clean face.

You chuckle "no of course not you’re just a pretty sight" you reply giddily.

He smirks "is that all you see me as?" He questions playfully.

"No I see you as much more" you wink as the waiter brings your food before Johnny could reply back.

She places the food on the table before quickly rushing off, noticing the long awaited sexual tension.

You clear your throat "so, how does it feel to be back into karate sensei?" You spark up, interested as you both dig into your meals.

"It feels great to be back, granted Miguel is my only student but he’s a good kid" He compliments with a small smile.

"Yeah, I’ve seen you guys practice he’s getting better" You say impressed.

"I know, he deserves so much more than I can give him" Johnny says looking down.

"Hey don’t say that, you’re doing amazing and I’m so proud of you. He couldn’t learn from anyone better" you say, completely dissing his thought.

Johnny looks up, both of your eyes connect. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife "you wanna get out of here?" He asks before putting his fork down.

"Yes" you answer quickly already getting excited for what’s to come.

The waitress comes over "we’ll take the check please" Johnny says with a smile that reads 'were in a hurry here' to which the waitress quickly nods becoming awkward.

Though she doesn’t move "uh- you guys didn’t finish so there for it’s on the house and you get to keep your meals" she explains grabbing two container boxes and handing them to you.

"Thank you" you say politely as you hand one to Johnny and the waitress quickly runs away.

"That was weird I’ve never heard of that before" you say as you put your food in the box, Johnny doing the same knowing you’ll both get hungry eventually.

"I know" He comments as he grabs your hand and quickly rushes you guys outside.

He places the boxes on the hood of his car before gently pushing you up against the passenger door and connecting his lips to yours in a passionate kiss.

You reply by pushing your lips against his firmer, before things could escalate to quickly and you’d give the whole restaurant a show Johnny quickly pulls away opening the door for you letting you sit, and getting into his side.

Nothing was said while driving, just heavy breathing as you both were excited for what was to come once Johnny made it to his apartment.

Soon you guys parked and Johnny quickly rushed over to your side of the door and helped you out. Before you could make it to Johnny’s door he placed his lips on yours. Your back hitting the door, he quickly pulls out his keys and opens the door letting you both in and closing it with his foot.

Johnny carries you over to the wall and pushes you up against it, not to hard but enough to make you weak. He reconnects your lips back together once again in a rougher kiss, still gentle.

He pulls away to trail slow and sweet kisses to your neck to which he immediately finds your sweet spot as you let him know by moaning.

He continues to abuse that spot as you start to speak up "Johnny.... more" you practically beg.

He caved in and taps your leg signaling for you to jump to which you do. The ends of your dress ripping immediately, causing you to gasp and Johnny to laugh.

"It’s fine I didn’t like it anyways" you say breathlessly as being turned on took you out of your thinking process.

You roughly place your lips back onto his as he carries you over to the kitchen counter roughly swapping everything away with his free arm before sitting you on it.

"Then you won’t mind if I take it off?" He asks for consent, shyly because he didn’t want to mess this up.

"Yes please" You say giving him permission.

As a gentleman he doesn’t finish ripping the dress but he pulls the zipper down slipping it halfway off til it wrapped around your waist.

Your strapless white bra being exposed to which Johnny admires as he places more kisses over your neck and the top of your boobs.

Johnny picks you back up before this time carrying you in his room placing you gently on his bed. "God your so beautiful" He compliments as he kisses up your chest, going down to your stomach.

He pulls the rest of the dress down, discarding it somewhere in the room. He runs his hand gently around your thighs and stomach.

You whine in pleasure he comes back up and places his fingers over the button on the front of your bra "can I?" He asks watching your eyes for any sign of discomfort to find none.

You simply nod giving your consent as he unbuttons the bra slowly dragging it down your body before discarding of it. Your breasts now bare to him to which you look away shyly as your hands start to cover yourself up.

"Don’t my love, you look like a goddess" he starts before placing kisses all over your chest "-you’re so perfect" Johnny finishes, love dripping with every word.

He swirls his tongue around your harden nipple causing your back to arch as a moan falls out.

He places kisses everywhere down your stomach until he gets to your soaking core. He tugs at the side of your underwear asking to pull it off to which you nod letting him do so.

Your bottom half now completely bare to him, he spreads open your legs resting his hands on your thighs. He kisses just above your core, slowly he trails more kisses until he finally connects his lips with your clit, sucking harshly but lovingly.

"You’re so beautiful" He praises once more as continues his assault on your clit, now slipping two fingers into your dripping core.

Wanting you to cum around his cock, he takes his fingers out before sucking them dry and licking his lips causing more moans to fly out your mouth

"You taste wonderful" he says as lust fills his bow darkened blue eyes.

He pulls his shirt off revealing his toned shaped body before discarding of his pants leaving himself only in his boxers.

"Are you sure you want to do this Y/n" Johnny asks sincerely.

"Of course I want to do this with you Johnny" You comply.

Nodding he removes his boxers letting his hard on slap against your core, both letting out a groan at contact.

Lining his cock up at your entrance he looks up at you once more only for you to nod your head yes.

He slowly slides his cock inside your core, feeling you clench around his cock causing him to moan you following behind feeling him stretch you out.

"I’m going to treat you so well" He says whilst rubbing your thighs slowly thrusting his hips against yours.

You moan "Johnny-" you whimper as he speeds up his pace more.

His cock hitting all the right places and more, thrusting at a firmer pace he grips your hips so he could go faster. Hitting your G- spot dead on causing your back to arch and a moan to escape your plump lips.

"You’re doing so good for me, taking me so well" he compliments as he try’s to contain his breathing and moans.

"Princess, you’re taking my cock in like a good girl" He praises as he slams his hips against yours finding a faster rhythm.

You whimper "so g-good" you stutter as Johnny leans down, readjusting his posture to kiss you.

You run your hands through his hair as you feel your climax reaching. "I’m close Johnny-" you moan aloud as you chase that burning sensation.

"Yeah? You’re going to cum for me beautiful" he continues to praise as he drops a hand down to your core and rubs your clit in figure eights causing you to arch your chest into his and cum around his cock, feeling him twitch as you do so.

Johnny follows behind as he cums inside you, filling you up as he continues to ride out both of your orgasms.

Gently pulling out his cock he turns over to his back and pulls you to lean into his chest. "Words cannot describe how amazing that was Y/n" he says feeling as though he was on top of the world.

You nod agreeing along "it was amazing Johnny" you compliment.

"Y/n.... I love you" Johnny says waiting patiently for your response.

You nuzzle your neck into his; lovingly "I love you Johnny Lawrence"

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Thank you for requesting @peachymelon69 I hope you enjoyed!

#wattpad #robby keene #cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai x reader #eli moskowitz x reader #eli moskowitz imagine #eli moskowitz #johnny #johnny lawrence x reader #johnny lawrence #hawk #x reader #warning #cobra kai smut #smut #read with caution #beware #netflix #daniel larusso #LaRusso

[cow-smells]

You’re Mine [Eli Hawk Moskowitz x Reader]

Requests: 1. there’s a new girl on miyagi-do, she’s classmates with sam, hawk, miguel, tory, robby, demetri, etc... for some reason, she and hawk didn’t like each other (he can be on cobra kai or eagle fangs, that’s your choice), and one day they make a bet, which this girl wins. hawk has to be her slave for a whole week. BONUS IDEA: a stolen kiss during a fight. maybe admitting feelings for each other? i’d love that! ( @berriewrites​ ) 2. love the hawk smut but i’d also love some fluffy hawk about him secretly liking the reader who’s in miyagido but he tries to act all tough and hide it (anon) 3. AHHH CAN WE GET SOME HAWK FLUFF!? I love the idea where you swear that you don’t like him and you guys make eye contact from a distance when he’s standing with his friend group and you’re standing with yours and you get flustered and he can tell and he smirks and just ahh (anon)

A/N: this took so longggg this came out longer than expected (and honestly i could go on, but i wanted to get this out already) + real life has come hitting all at once and its been overwhelming lol. thanks for being patient and sticking around <3 i enjoyed writing some fluff (amidst a flurry of smut reuests loool :)

Words: 2981

Warnings: none

Read this on AO3

Summary: You don't like Hawk. He's a bad person, that much you know for sure. You're ready to make his life miserable when he loses a bet with you, but then you actually have to spend time with him...

   You didn't like this.

Forgiveness seemed to be a virtue that evaded you. Eagle-fang and Miagi-Do were uniting and everyone seemed to be all for the union – except for you.

Some things were simply unforgivable. For you, Hawk breaking Demetri's arm was one of them.

You and Demetri became nearly inseparable friends when you both joined Miagi-Do. He had told you all about his former friend Eli and how he'd abandoned him in the favor of bullying him in any way he could come up with; that bullying taking a turn to the extreme when Hawk took to breaking bones.

    Demetri had since forgiven him, but you hadn't.

Demetri had a softer heart than he let on, and he missed Eli terribly, so when the latter suggested they work together he gladly accepted.

But you were more objective about the situation, as you weren't a part of it, and forgiving such cruelty was beyond you.

    The one good thing about the dojos coming together was the intense dedication that grew on everyone. Now that you had a common enemy, many participants would hang around in Miyagi-Do's dojo long after training sessions, training until you could hardly move your limbs.

     The sun had ago long fallen when you and the remaining students took places around a mat, ready for the sparring session to begin.

With Daniel and Sensei Lawrence gone, you had taken to writing down names and pulling them out of a bowl to decide on sparring partners.

    All the negative emotions you felt channeled in to great excitement when Miguel called your name – followed by Hawk's.

You could have sworn you saw a look of something you couldn't read – concern, perhaps, or fear? Before he seemed to share your excitement as he stepped on to the mat with a grin that was almost predatory.

    Two could play at that game.

    “You're as good as dead,” you said, your voice dripping venom. Hawk's smirk just grew.

    “Is that so, princess? I'd like to see you score as much as a point.”

A light bulb lit in your mind.

    “Yeah?” you taunted. “What if I get three?”

Hawk laughed. “You got a lot of confidence, don't you? I'll tell you what. If you can score three points on me and win, I'll...” He bit his lip as he thought. “I'll let you boss me around for a week. Whatever you want.”

The blood rushed through your veins, ready more than ever to fight. You were grateful for the lack of your sensei, knowing this nonsense wouldn't stand if he were here.

    “Deal.”

    “Are you guys done?” Miguel huffed, standing between you two, ready to referee. “Good. Bow.”

    You bowed without intent and got straight to attacking. Hawk didn't expect it; he came from the dojo that prides itself on strike first and yours cared mainly about defense. You earned your first point within seconds.

    That only served to throw Hawk off his game further. He dived in right away for the attack and was caught unprepared when you fell, sweeping his leg.

    You earned your second point.

By that point, Hawk might as well have been fuming out the ears. His brows furrowed in anger as he looked at you like you were the most vile thing he had ever seen; that satisfied something within you.

    The flurry of hits and misses was so rapid you were caught unprepared when you managed to land a punch on Hawk, Miguel's voice rising as he named you victor.

    Hawk huffed, clearly exerted. You smiled. “You're mine.”

You were fully intending to use this bet to its full potential.

The next day was Saturday, and Hawk, true to his word, showed up at your doorstep at 9 p.m sharp, just as you had ordered.

You paid him no kindness when you opened the door, not exchanging a word with him before demanding: “Helmet?”

Hawk handed you a helmet, not looking particularly pleased about the situation but not being able to stop himself from taking in an eyeful of you anyway.

You needed a ride to tonight's party – that's where Hawk came in, beginning his work for you as a personal valet. Accordingly for the event, you were dressed meticulously, showing off your best features – and if you were to judge by Hawks reaction, you were on your way to turn heads.

You climbed on the motorcycle after him, circling your arms around him loosely; but when he kicked off and started the ride, you couldn't help but tighten your hold.

    The party was overcrowded with people from the moment you got there; Yasmine's parties tended to get a bit... excessive.

You ditched Hawk the moment you got sight of your friends, ditching the helmet on his bike to run over to Sam, Moon and Yasmine.

Yasmine didn't hide the dirty look she sent at Hawk. “Ew. Who's the freak?”

You grinned proudly. “My valet. Ignore him. Actually...”

You looked over to the drinks table; someone had tapped a keg and it was being swarmed with people.

    “Hey, Hawk!”

Hawk turned to you, the slightest furrow in his brow as he had already joined his own friends. You pointed at the drinks table. “Vodka soda!” you ordered.

He rolled his eyes, but did it anyway. Your friends watched wide-eyed as he obeyed you wordlessly, bringing over the drink. “Anything else, princess?”

    “Yes,” you gave him a judging once-over. “Don't drink tonight. I want to get home in one piece.”

He bit his cheeks and glared at you before growling “Fine” and returning to his friends.

At some point you didn't even want a drink any more, it was just fun ordering Hawk to go fetch you another one; and so, you found yourself unintentionally drunk, laughing mindlessly at anything said and swaying on your feet.

You didn't even know how late it had gotten when Hawk came in the living room looking for you, ready to go home as most the others already had.

You had earlier made him promise to take you home as well, and – something you were quickly learning was, Hawk was definitely a man of his word. He spotted you half-sprawled on the couch, laughing with Yasmine at something you didn't fully register. Your cup was askew in your hand, contents about to spill over when Hawk grabbed it out of your hand, placing it on a table nearby.

    “Come on, Y/n. It's time to go.”

    “Not yet!” you grinned gleefully, taking hold of his wrist and shaking it dumbly as you spoke. “Later! We're having fun!”

Hawk placed his free hand on yours that held him. “It's four AM, Y/n, time to call it a night.”

    You didn't reply, instead resorting to pouting like a child.

His eyes softened (the puppy eyes never failed to work) – but his jaw clenched. “If you don't come now I'm leaving you here.”

    “Fine!” you hurriedly rose to your feet, using Hawk for balance. “Bye,” you pouted at Yasmine childishly as Hawk pulled you away from her and out of the house.

The sudden quiet of the outside was nearly overwhelming, Hawk's voice sounding too loud for you. “How am I supposed to get you home when you're this drunk?”

    “I'm not drunk,” you answered instinctively, knowing that you very well were.

    “If you can make it to the bike in a straight line, I'll believe you.” You look at his bike, ten feet ahead. You decide to keep holding on to him. “That's what I thought. Listen. You gotta stay awake, okay? I can't have you falling off in the middle of the road, or making me sway, because then we're both dead. Got it?”

    “Dead. Got it.”

Hawk didn't look convinced, but placed a helmet on you and buckled it anyway.

It was about ten minutes in to the ride when Hawk pulled over. He turned to you, his voice as serious as he could make it; you simply smiled, somewhat dazed. “This isn't going to work.”

    “Hm?”

    “Y/n!” Hawk called, trying to wake you up a little. “Don't fall asleep!”

    “Yes, sensei.” you slurred. Had you been any more awake, you might have noticed the way Hawk's eyes widened at that.

Hawk had to refocus himself to go on. “I'm serious. Look... My house is closer than yours. You can sleep it off at mine, and I'll take you wherever tomorrow. Okay?”

    “Okay,” you shrugged, your mind not caring about much other than regaining the warmth of Hawk's body pressed against yours.

Minutes later you pulled up at an unfamiliar house. Hawk unbuckled your helmet and set it aside, helping you off the bike and guiding you inside, motioning Shhh as he led you through the corridor of his darkened house until you reached his room.

The most natural thing for you to do the moment you saw a bed was to collapse on it. In the seconds Hawk turned his back on you to find you Pj's to wear, you had fallen asleep.

    Looking at you on his bed, Hawk exhaled heavily. He was very aware of your hatred of him; what he couldn't understand was, if everyone else forgave him, why not you?

It certainly didn't help that you looked the way you do, that you were talented, and that everyone loved you.

So Hawk undid your shoes and pulled them off, laying a blanket on you before leaving you to sleep.

    You woke up groggy, somewhat hungover and in a strangers room; an interesting start to the day.

You didn't really want to leave the comfort of your lonesome in the room but it was clear you would have to face the music at some point, so you womaned up and left the room.

Following the smell of food cooking, you walk down a hallway to find a red-haired man in the kitchen, his tattooed back to you, muscles flexing as he flipped a pancake.

With his hair down, it took you a moment to register who you're seeing; who's bed you spent the night in.

    Hawk.

Your first instinct was to groan, to cower in to yourself in regret; but then you remember how tenderly he treated you the night prior, making sure you got safely to a bed, letting you have his bed.

You swallowed your pride and stepped in to the kitchen. “Morning.”

Hawk's shoulders jumped in fright as you startled him; you couldn't help but giggle. He quickly rightened himself, straightening his back and flexing his abs as he turned to you.

    He was good looking and he knew it. You hated him.

However, you felt your power returning to you as he couldn't help but look you up and down, your disheveled clothes revealing a bit more than they had the night before. Hawk inhaled sharply, reminding himself of who he was, how he was supposed to act: unfazed.

    “Bout time you got up.”

You frowned, looking at the kitchen clock. “What do you mean about time? It isn't even noon yet.”

    “Yeah, well,” Hawk flipped a pancake on to a nearby plate. “You wanted me to take you to the mall today, right? I have practice later, so it's gotta be now.” The Eagle-fangs were holding weekend practices of their own, something you weren't a fan of.

    “Jeez, fine,” you sneered, allowing yourself to sit at the kitchen table. Amidst the chaos that was waking up in Hawks bed, you had totally forgot you previously asked him to take you out today. Yasmine's parents were making her take tutoring lessons, Moon was doing some spiritual healing thing and Sam was with Miguel, so you were left all alone – but you certainly didn't intend on spending Sunday at home, doing nothing.

    Hawk finally shut off the burner and joined you at the table with a stack of pancakes and two plates in tow. “Eat away your hangover. I'm not gonna hold your hair up if you hurl.”

Breakfast with Hawk ended up being a surprisingly civil affair; so was shopping. There was something exciting about dragging him along after you, shop after shop, having him carry your bags and modeling clothes for him. And honestly, you were loving the effect you had on him. You knew he was trying to hide it, but you could see the way he grew antsy when you tried on bikinis. You loved teasing him, knowing he couldn't have you.

    What also didn't hurt was the way you two turned heads walking down streets together. You were undeniably gorgeous, and he... While at first you thought it was the bright red mohawk that grabbed peoples eyes, after a close inspection you couldn't deny he had fair features, too. You had to look away whenever he tensed his jaw, accentuating his jawline, or if God forbid he smiled, you had to deny the way his smile made your stomach knot up.

    As though to top off the experience of him, by the time you finished shopping, Hawk would have been late if he was to take you home, so you suggested he take you to practice with him and just take you home once he was finished. And oh my... You did not need to see him fighting. Having a whole hour to see his biceps flexing as the threw punches was doing you no favors; when you were both practicing you were too busy with yourself to notice him, but right then you had a whole hour to do nothing but stare.

At the end of the practice you rose when Hawk approached you, ready to go. When his sensei understood you were waiting there for him, he asked Hawk, “Yours?”

Hawk didn't answer; he merely smirked that Hawk smirk of his. His sensei nodded proudly. “Nice.” Creep.

You had a couple more days to squeeze the most you could out of your bet, and by all means were you planning on using them.

Hawk was taking you to school and home every day on the back of his bike – to Miyagi-do, too. It became a regular thing to see you two together, and if anyone was expecting you, they expected Hawk, too.

Just as the previous mornings, you and Hawk walked in to school together. Seeing your friends, you bid him goodbye and went to join them, your eyes lingering on him a bit too long as he said hello to Miguel.

Yasmine's jaw dropped as she looked at you, her expression scandalized. “What?” you asked.

    “You're totally in to the freak!”

    “What? No,” you denied – but even as the words left your mouth, you could hear your lack of conviction. “No.”

You looked back to where Hawk and Miguel stood; this time, he caught your eye. Then, with total audacity, he winked at you.

You felt heat rush through your body.

The smirk that grew on him suggested he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

    You hated it.

Deciding to put an end to this madness, you wordlessly leave your friends and march up to Hawk, a new rage running though you.

He stopped talking with Miguel when you reached him; Miguel visibly tensed at what he felt was a dangerous situation for him to be in.

    “Sidebar,” you ordered. Hawk smirked.

    “After you, princess.”

You hoped no one would notice when you lured him in to an empty classroom, but in all honesty, it was you and Hawk. There were always eyes on you two.

You turned to him once you were engulfed in the silence of the room. “Listen. I don't know what you're playing at, but cut it out. I own you, got it? Don't go winking at me in the hallway like I'm your girlfriend or something.”

You expected to see him cower, blush, show any sign of intimidation – but there was no such emotion. The smirk he wore only grew in confidence. “You sure about that?” he asked cheekily. “Because it seems to me like you'll find any excuse to be around me.”

You couldn't believe the audacity of this boy. You were stunted for words; he went on. “Be honest with yourself. Once the week is up, you'll still find reasons to talk to me.”

You bit your cheeks; you hated how he was right, how he read you so easily. “And look, I'm done playing this game too.”

Your stomach dropped. Was he about to reject you, without you even confessing? “I'm not playing with you,” you tried to say intimidatingly, but your voice came out too small for comfort.

    “Me neither. So...” Hawk looked down at you; you could have drowned in his ocean eyes. You averted your gaze to the side, crossing your arms.

    “Fine. We can call it off early.”

Hawk chuckled. You wanted to punch him. “You still don't get it, do you?”

You returned your eyes to Hawk, ready to chew him out when he placed his hands on your cheeks, pulling you to him for a kiss.

You could feel yourself melting in to the kiss, feeling a rush of adrenaline run through you as you finally got to experience what you didn't want to admit to yourself that you craved so deeply.

When he finally pulled away, he kept his hands on you, your noses nearly touching. “I've wanted to do that for a long time,” Hawk admitted.

You half-smiled. “It's only been a week.”

Hawk had burst in laughter, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. “You still don't get it.” Before you could protest his words, his lips met your once more.

    Maybe you could find it in you to forgive him, after all.

#cobra kai imagine #cobra kai #eli moskowitz imagine #eli hawk moskowitz #eli moskowitz x reader #eli moskowitz/reader #cobra kai fanfic #cobra kai hawk

[sugar-bunii]

Adrenaline rush

You and Octane have been going steady for about 4 months now, everything has been perfect so far but something was missing. You’ve always wanted to be sexually intimate with him but he hasn’t been picking up on any of your hints.

First it was asking to shower together but he was too worried about taking off his prosthetics, next it was when you asked him if he wanted to try something new. He got exited but started going on about the new sushi bar that opened. Another time was just you walking into the room in a towel after showering, he quickly covered his eyes and left so you could get dressed.

As clueless as he was you decided to ask him directly once he got home from the arena. 9:47 rolled around and he opened the door excitedly, “Hey, you’re home early what’s up?” You ask him as he settled down next to you on the couch. “We got a flawless victory and the announcer said we deserved to go home early and take a break!” He wrapped his arm over your shoulder and you put your head on his arm. You thought if you were going to ask it might as well be now.

“What’s up with that look on your face, are you thinking about something?” He asked, taking his mask and placing it on the table. “I was just thinking of a way to celebrate this victory of yours.” You strattled him and kicked your leg on the other side of him. “Woah what’s this about?” He said with a smirk. You whispered in his ear “how about we take this to the bedroom?” A look of excitement washed over his face. “I thought you’d never ask!” He said with excitement, picked you up and practically ran to your room.

As he placed you on the bed he switched the playlist you were listening to, “Why’d you do that?” Slightly joking but almost offended. “I’ve got a special playlist I’ve been working on” he states and sticks his tongue out playfully. He puts on a playlist called “bangers” and the first song that plays is The hills by “The Weeknd.”

“Kay, now where we’re we?” You take off your shirt and he does the same, he stares at your topless body for what feels like forever, “wow,,,you look absolutely stunning” you feel a blush come over you due to the unexpected compliment. He began kissing your stomach, slowly moving his way up planting kisses all over your body, your scars, and taking his time with your stretch marks. You can hear him counting with every kiss.

He hovers over your neck, hesitating before resuming with the kisses “67, 68, 69 hehe 69, 70, 71…” he giggles and continues. The kisses started to become more and more passionate, leaving hickeys on your neck “mine, mine, mine” he mumbled as he ventured from your neck, to your jaw, moving to your lips.

As he pressed his lips to yours he moved one of his hands against your cheek and another slowly moving toward your sweatpants, “is it okay if I-“ you cut him off “oh please help yourself” you say as you waste no time getting back to connecting your lips. You place a hand on his chest and break away from the kiss gasping for air.

Octane pressed his forehead against yours as you both pant, “god I love you so much” he says “I love you too” he smiles as starts working his way into your panties and rubbing circles around your clit. The sudden movement sent a feeling of sensation through your body, your heavy breathing triggered something in Octane to start moving his long now dampened fingers faster at an exhilarating speed.

“Let me hear your pretty noises my love” Octane says as he began kissing your neck once more, as you moan in his ear you receive what sounded to be a mix between a growl and a moan from him. “Please~put them in me” you beg, with a slight hesitation Octane slips two fingers into your dripping wet pussy. “God you’re taking me so well, mi amor~ don’t cum yet, we still have a few more rounds to go and I want to make it last” He says with a raspy tone into your ear.

He pulls his fingers out of you as you’re on the verge of your climax, you let out a small simper and Octane seems to have noticed. “Oh what’s the matter baby, did you want me to keep going?” He says tauntingly. Octane slowly moves down your body trailing his hands, wandering almost like they had a mind of their own.

Octane propped himself up as he was hovering above your pelvis, he slid your sweatpants down every so slowly that you thought you would lose your mind if he didn’t hurry up. For being one of the fastest legends he sure did like taking his time with you. “Oh my, you’re soaking wet just because of these little guys” he says licking his fingers clean of your lingering taste. “And you did say I could help myself.” He says with a smirk.

He stood up and pulled something out of the nightstand next to the bed, “I picked this little bugger up last week.” He says sticking his tongue out at you. “You’re really taking your time tonight, aren’t you?” You ask impatiently “I’m exited and I kinda like making you wait.” He stuck out his tongue and opened the package to reveal a vibrating tongue piercing. He replaced the bar in his tongue with the rubber covered piercing and quickly got back to his position.

“Are you going to be able to handle this?” He teases. “It’ll depend on how well you can use it, but we’ll have to wait and see” you say in response. “If you say so” Octane says as he turns on the little bug in his mouth, as soon as the vibrations hit your lower lips your back arches and your hips buck upwards. Octane steadies your hips and pins then to the bed, for having such a small build he’s so much stronger than you’d think.

As he’s slurping up every drop that drips from your pussy the piercing is perfectly hitting your sweet spot. As he focused more on your clit one of his hands teased the surrounding area of your dripping hole. “God your little hole is so pathetic, dripping just from this piercing, let’s see if you can handle three fingers this time. Just tell me if it’s too much for you, okay?” Octane says reassuring you, making sure you feel comfortable. “Okay, I~” you’re cut off by his fingers curling inside you, keeping a steady pace but fast enough to satisfy his constant need for speed.

Steadily Octane began going faster and faster, in and out of your pussy, the noises from all of your juices leaking out with the speed of his fingers. You run your fingers though his hair and your other hand grips the sheets as you teacher your climax. “Octane, oh god, I’m gonna cum” you desperately say, bucking your hips and arching your back more and more. “Good baby, cum in my mouth, you’re doing so good for me”

As you finally reach your climax you thought it would be over from there, but as Octane held your legs down and locked in, you know you would be there for longer than you anticipated. “Oh good girl, but we’re not doing this for your pleasure, we’re doing this for me, it’s so fun to see you squirm and moan just because of me” You could feel your body getting hotter and hotter, the room smelt of sex and “It wasn’t me” by shaggy filled the silence in the room aside from the sound of the piercing in Octane’s mouth buzzing away as he started to ride you over the edge.

As you moaned his name and gripped his hair he would continue to rub your clit and finger your dripping hole, he moaned praises into your pussy and spat on it from time to time. Soon tears started to form in your eyes from the overstimulation, he had been eating you out for what seemed to have been hours but he didn’t seem to have lost any stamina from fingering you as fast as he did.

Octane started to slow down the pace of his fingers, looking up at you. Your body was twitching, tears stained your face, and you let out small whimpers and he finally removed his fingers from your drenched hole and replaced the burnt out piercing with the original bar that was in its place. “You did so good for me, baby. I’m so proud of you.” He said as he grabbed a wet rag from the bathroom. As he cleaned you up he praised you and told you how much you meant to him.

After he got you cleaned up he pulled an oversized shirt from the closet and clean underwear for you to put on. He placed you on the couch, put the bedsheets in the washer, and drew a bubble bath for the both of you.

He picked you up off the couch, undressed you and put you into the bathtub. “Are you gonna join me in here?” You ask with little energy. “Of course my love, I just need to remember if my legs are waterproof or not.” As he takes off his leg he looks at the small writing on the back of them: made for any type of terrain, adventure, and damage. “We’ll be fine”

He removes what little clothing he had left on him and slipped into the bathtub behind you, grabbing the shampoo and washing your hair. For how rough he was a few minutes ago he was quite gentle scrubbing the shampoo into your hair. “I love you mi amor, I really do mean it, you’re my everything and I would do anything to keep you happy” Octane rinsed your hair and planted soft kisses on your neck and shoulders. “I love you too, we should do this more often, Ive been trying to drop hints but I didn’t think you were picking up on any of them.” You respond as you move your hair to make way for his kisses.

“You have? I guess you just have to be more straight forward with me, but if I think you’re dropping hints I’ll ask before I assume.” He says in response rubbing body wash on your shoulders and arms. “Sounds good to me, thank you again, I love you.” You say with a slight hum to your voice. “I love you too y/n”

End

———————————————————————

Thank you for reading!! This is my first fanfic and it took me just about two days to make. Expect more in the future unless I get flagged for inappropriate content.

I may or may not have had to look up if octanes prosthetics were waterproof, but I’d say I like how this turned out!

#octane x reader #fiction #apex fanfic #octavio silva #imagines #apex imagines

[jujumin-translates]

Sakuya Sakuma | [SR] Twins • White | MANKAI Channel Filming - Part 1

Part 1 / Part 2

TV: “There’s a lot of greenery around here, it’s really nice. Ah, is that a cafe over there?”

Director: Wah, that’s such a cute cafe.

Sakuya: It really is! It looks super cozy.

Juza: The deserts look real good too.

Director: Watching city walking shows like this makes me want to go there myself.

Sakuya: Me too. I’d love to see the scenery and visit the shops.

TV: “Today’s city walk was super fun! Tune in next week for even more fun!”

Sakuya: That was interesting. I think we should make MANKAI Channel’s next video be a city walking one.

Director: Ah, we should!

Juza: You filmin’ the next video, Sakuya?

Sakuya: Mhm. Since I’m doing it alone, I got worried because I couldn’t decide what kind of video to make…

Sakuya: But now that I’ve decided on walking around the city, I’m a little relieved.

Director: It’s not very good if the videos don’t get updated often, so you all have to take turns updating the channel--.

Director: So, if you’re worried about what to do or have any problems, you can talk to me. I help you think it out.

Sakuya: Okay, thank you so much!

Juza: Yea, got it.

Sakuya: Contents for a city walk… There’s been a lot of new shops opening up recently, I could introduce the Veludo Way area again.

Juza: Veludo Way, huh? Around the second corner on the right, there’s a new fruit sandwich shop that opened.

Juza: It’s take-out only, but it’d be a good way to introduce people to the good food. There’s also a place in the back left corner of the shopping district.

Director: You’re really well informed, Juza-kun!

Sakuya: And super helpful too!

Sakuya: Ah, I’ve got it! Juza-kun, do you want to be a guest in my video this time?

Juza: Me?

Sakuya: Why not? You’re really well informed and I think you could convey more of the charm of the city than I could by myself!

Director: It seems like it’d be more fun to introduce it with two people talking, so why not do it?

Juza: Gotcha. I’ll do what I can.

Sakuya: Thank you! Let’s do our best!

Director: (A video with both of them walking around the city… I’m looking forward to seeing how it turns out.)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: The selfie stick is all okay too, and… Alright, let’s start filming the video.

Juza: ‘Kay.

Sakuya: Hello, all of MANKAI Channel’s viewers! I’m MANKAI Company’s Sakuya Sakuma, from Spring Troupe.

Sakuya: I’m in charge for today but, I have a guest joining me too. Ta-da!

Juza: I’m Autumn Troupe’s Juza Hyodo.

Sakuya: Thanks for joining me today, Juza-kun.

Juza: Happy to be here.

Sakuya: Today we’re going to be walking around the city.

Juza: We’re gonna walk around and introduce a lotta stuff around Veludo Way, the sacred land of theater.

Sakuya: Well then, let’s head out right away!

Sakuya: First, we’re walking down this road…

Juza: There’s a line out the door.

Sakuya: Ah, this is the fruit sandwich shop!

Juza: Yea, it’s a recently opened store, so people are linin’ up nearly every day.

Sakuya: It’s really popular. I’m curious about it now, let’s get in line.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: We finally got it! We were waiting in line for about 15 minutes, right?

Juza: I think that’s ‘bout right.

Sakuya: Let’s move out of the way of people and find somewhere to eat right away.

Sakuya: Let’s eat over here.

Sakuya: Ah, it’s good! Because the fruit is already so sweet, the cream doesn’t seem as sweet, making it easy to eat.

Juza: I got the one with the custard. It’s got a lotta fruit in it, mmh.

Sakuya: The bread is fluffy too.

Juza: Yea. I could eat a dozen of ‘em.

Sakuya: That was so good! Well then, let’s keep walking.

Juza: Mhm.

???: “C’mon, let’s go!”

Juza: Sounds like someone’s doin’ a street act.

Sakuya: Yeah! And that voice, could it be…? Let’s go check it out!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Shift: “Fufu! As you expected, it’s me!”

Haruto: “God, you get carried away so easily… But, I guess I’ll reconsider a bit.”

Haruto: Thank you for watching!

Shift: Thank you very much~.

*Applause*

Sakuya: Wah…!

Juza: Hey, if you applaud like that, the camera’s gonna shake.

Sakuya: Wah, that’s right! Sorry! I just couldn’t resist applauading even with the camera in my hands.

Haruto: ...Huh? What are you two doing?

Sakuya: Ah, hello. We’re filming a video for the MANKAI Channel right now.

Haruto: Ah, I see.

Sakuya: Everyone, this is GOD-za’s Haruto-san and Shift-kun!

Haruto: Hello, viewers. I’m GOD-za’s Haruto Asuka.

Shift: And I’m Shift Arakawa!

Haruto: Come see GOD-za’s next play.

Shift: Ahaha, smart promo tactic. Please also support GOD-za~!

Haruto: Ah, we’d better get back. Shift, let’s go.

Shift: ‘Kay. Sakuya-san, Juza-san, do your best!

Juza: Yep.

Sakuya: Thank you!

Juza: Didn’t expect to run into those two from GOD-za.

Sakuya: It surprised me too.

Sakuya: There’s always a lot of people doing those kinds of street acts on Veludo Way, so you can still come and visit even if you have no errands to do here.

Sakuya: Everyone, please come and see the street acts!

#a3! #a3! translation #〚 backstage story #sakuya sakuma #juza hyodo #haruto asuka #shift arakawa #// jusaku likers come get ur crumbs #juza and sakuya getting FRUIT sandwiches together?? sounds like gay behavior to me /lh

[blossom-hwa]

Skipping Stones - KEVIN

This was the second full scenario I ever finished for The Boyz and I think it was pretty nice to start with some soft Kevin :D THANK YOU KAI FOR LETTING ME YELL TO YOU ABOUT THIS ONE I HOPE IT LIVES UP TO YOUR EXPECTATIONS. 

Anyway! Happy (slightly early but only by a couple hours??) birthday to one of the best boys in the world, the one and only wonderful beautiful lovely Kevin Moon! I hope you all enjoy this <3 please reblog if you did!

Pairing: Kevin x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, teacher!au

Triggers: cursing, alcohol

Word Count: 7.8k

Falling in love with you, Kevin thinks, is a bit like skipping stones. 

Alternatively:

Five times Kevin felt himself falling deeper in love with you, and the one time he knew he was gone.

TBZ Masterlist | Touching Stars | Breathe, and Live

prelude.

Kevin knows he exists to be clowned. His sister says it’s something about his face – there’s something undeniably meme-y about his reactions, apparently, that makes him very clownable. His students tell him it’s in his demeanor – he comes off as pretty chill, according to them, which makes him easy to tease because they know he’ll react in some hilarious way, but it won’t affect him too deeply.

(Changmin just says he’s stupid, which makes him clownable to the highest degree, but Kevin refuses to take information from the teacher who still scares him every other week with whichever horror movie mask has recently caught his fancy.)

So Kevin knows he’s just a clownable human being, and he’s resigned himself to that fate for the rest of his life. But around you? His calm, collected, hilarious, wonderful partner? He expected a little less clownery and a little more loving.

“Oh, come on,” you laugh, trying to get Kevin to turn around. Honestly, he’s already feeling the effects of withdrawal from not seeing your smile for more than a few minutes, but he refuses to budge, lips curved downwards in a semi-permanent pout. He knows he won’t be able to keep this up for long (he’ll miss looking at your face too much, and really, he can’t be mad at you about anything), but he can make a scene. “Kevin!”

“You’re so mean,” he whines, still resisting your efforts to make him look at you. “I just poured out a very embarrassing part of my childhood to you and instead of comforting me, you laugh?” His pout deepens. “I don’t know why we’re dating.”

Your hands leave the back of his shoulders. For a second, Kevin thinks you’ve given up and he’s about to start whining about that too, but then you appear in front of him, fingers clasped placatingly. “All right, all right, Kevin.” Still grinning, you grab his hands. “I won’t tease anymore. But seriously, how could you expect me not to laugh my ass off when you told me you learned to skip stones for the –” you make jazz hands, presumably to emphasize your point – “aesthetic?”

Kevin sticks his lip out childishly. “I didn’t think it was that funny,” he mumbles.

“It’s not, not really.” You squeeze his hands. “But it’s a move that’s got Kevin Moon stamped all over it.” As if to accentuate your point, you snort. “Of course you’d learn to skip stones for the aesthetic.”

“Y/N,” he whines.

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop.” Your teasing grin melts into an eager smile. “Hey, teach me?”

“Right now?”

“Why not?”

It feels like Kevin’s physically crumbling to pieces with the way your hopeful voice and sparkling eyes just attack him from all angles. Grudgingly, the deep pout on his lips stretches into a smile, the starstruck smile that all of his friends like to tease him for. “Fine, let’s go.”

He spends the rest of the afternoon stepping around small children and younger couples, trying to find suitable rocks for skipping and teaching you the right angles, the right stance, the right way to hold the stone in your hand before sending it into the water. You learn fast, something he envies – where it took him at least a couple of weeks to perfect the art, you (mostly) pick it up in a matter of hours – but he can’t feel too jealous or too bad when you look up at him after your stone skips once on the water. “Kevin, I did it!” You shake him slightly. “Did you see that?”

The softest smile spreads across Kevin’s face as he kisses your forehead softly “Yeah, I did.”

When he pulls away, you give him the brightest grin before scrambling away to find more stones to skip. Kevin just watches, taking in the way your figure looks against the setting sun, bright gold and pale pink light streaming over your body, almost making you glow.

This is why he fell in love with you, he thinks. Your character, your tenacity, the way you throw yourself into every task you’ve been assigned so that you can complete it as best as you can. It doesn’t matter if you’re trying to treat a new cancer case at the hospital or trying to skip a stupid rock across the water. You always give it your all.

Idly, Kevin picks up a stone of his own. With a practiced flick of his wrist, it goes sailing onto the lake, skipping three, four, five times before sinking beneath the surface.

Falling in love with you is a bit like skipping stones, he thinks, watching the stone disappear from sight. Someone had to force him into that first blind date with you, much like making the first toss of the stone into the water, but every skip after that was quick, effortless, the way he felt himself falling for you, step by stumbling step, until his heart finally gave in and sank below the waves of your warmth.

It’s hard to imagine a time when he wasn’t in love with you, even though such a time did at one point exist. But the way you make him feel with the smallest things you do – the way you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, the way you rest your chin on your hand in thought – it feels like he’s known you for an eternity and loved you even longer, loved you before time existed.

Your stone skips twice across the water and you shout with joy, racing up to Kevin to celebrate. He catches you when you leap at him, arms wrapping around your waist automatically, smiling into your shining face. Yes, he thinks, he’s in love.

He’s so in love with you.

. . . . .

i.

Kevin, by all definitions of the word, is panicking.

He’s been dreading this blind date for almost a month now, circling the day on his calendar and marking it D-Day, begging Jacob and Changmin to come along and hide in case he needs to be bailed out, relentlessly praying that he’ll be able to leave the stupid date in one piece.

(Look, as much as he appreciates Mrs. Park’s kindness and her brownies, she can be… a little overbearing. To say the least.)

Just a few hours ago, he was putting on his yellow sweater and bemoaning the existence of his pushy coworker. Just a few hours ago, he was lamenting his fate to his two friends (friends is a term he will use loosely for today – all they did was laugh at him). Just a few hours ago, he was cursing the existence of Mrs. Park and her brownies for getting him locked into this date with her sister’s kid. Wait, was it her sister? Or her brother?

(“Yes, her sister,” Changmin says, rolling his eyes. “Pay more attention, won’t you, Kev?”

Kevin groans. “Why couldn’t either of you be chosen by Mrs. Park, huh? Why me?”

“Because I have a partner and Jacob is good at disappearing.” Changmin grins that evil, evil grin he always has on just before he’s about to execute a prank on someone (usually Kevin).

“More like the two of you are good at leaving me to fend for myself against Mrs. Park, even though you know I can’t say no to shit,” Kevin grumbles.

“Give up her brownies,” Jacob suggests.

Kevin gasps. “No way in hell.”)

But now, he’s actually sitting across from you in a café not too far from his apartment, holding a cup of coffee between his (visibly shaking) hands. And he can’t even think of why he was dreading this date so much because you’re just… really, really perfect.

Why are you so sweet? he’s screaming inside. Why are you so funny? Why are you literally the perfect mix of snark and kindness and just – everything?

“So my aunt told me you work with her,” you say, seemingly oblivious to Kevin’s jitters. The smile on your face is really sending electricity racing through his heart. “I know the children must be fun, but I know she can be a bit… overbearing.” There’s a hint of apology in your eyes, like you know your aunt must have pressured him into this and you’re sorry that he had to come on a date with you.

Kevin’s stomach flip-flops. Okay, so Mrs. Park maybe did severely pressure and sweetly blackmail Kevin into a blind date. But Kevin also doesn’t want you to feel bad for it because it’s not your fault at all, so as usual, when he finds himself in a tight spot, his mouth decides it’s time to run.

“No, your aunt is really nice,” he starts. “I really mean it – she’s always very kind to the kids and to the rest of us teachers. I’m still kind of new compared to the rest of them – I’ve only been at the school for a few years now – but she helped me feel welcome that first year when I was still figuring things out. And she also likes Beyonce! You know, the greatest female artist there is? She let me play my entire playlist of Beyonce songs for her last year and she liked every single one of them!”

Kevin’s babbling now. Rambling. Whatever he wants to call it. His brain is screaming for him to stop talking but his mouth won’t stop running because this is what he does when he’s nervous. He talks. Endlessly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the table where Changmin and Jacob are situated in case they need to rescue him from mental or physical harm. The top of Changmin’s head is barely visible behind a huge menu so Kevin can barely see his friend, but somewhere in his babbling haze, he notices a phone camera poking out from behind the menu.

If he wasn’t blushing before, he definitely is now.

Finally, his mouth listens to his brain and he trails off on his last thought on why Beyonce is the best artist in the entire world. There’s a second of silence.

“Sorry,” Kevin finally squeaks. “I… tend to ramble when I get nervous. Or when I talk about Beyonce.”

Your smile flashes even wider. Kevin is torn between wanting to melt into the ground out of embarrassment and staying upright to keep seeing that grin on your face. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you laugh, fiddling with your cup of coffee. “I thought it was cute.”

Kevin’s face burns so much that he misses what you say next. “Sorry?”

You grin. “I’m always interested in hearing about a new artist to add to my playlist.”

Kevin lets out a theatrical gasp. “You don’t have Beyonce in your music library?”

A sheepish look spreads across your face. “… No?”

“Oh my God.” Kevin pulls out his phone. “Okay, I’m about to educate you on the artist of our time.”

The afternoon, then, passes in a flash. Changmin and Jacob eventually just up and exit the café (presumably with enough blackmail to last the rest of Kevin’s life – he knows he was acting like a complete fool, but luckily, you didn’t seem to care), leaving him alone with you. Under any other circumstances, he probably would’ve started crying, but you’re so sweet and so interesting that Kevin thinks he could stay and talk to you in this café forever.

He learns you’re an oncologist at a nearby children’s hospital, that even though the work is hard and tiring and sometimes overwhelmingly depressing, the strength of the children and the families you work with inspire you to keep going every day. He learns that you don’t have too much of a sweet tooth (though you won’t say no to ice cream or cheesecake, both of which he notes in his head), he learns that you love coffee, and he learns that you like to take walks in the park whenever you have a little bit of free time.

He also learns that you’re snarky, intelligent, driven, hardworking. He learns that you’re something far beyond the beauty of your face – that underneath your skin, there’s a heart that’s warmer than the sun.

Kevin understands that this is only the first date and that he maybe shouldn’t be making judgments so quickly. But he’s been told that he’s a relatively good judge of character, and the genuine look in your eyes when you talks speaks volumes about the person deep inside.

Even though you live further away, Kevin takes the bus with you to your home, citing that it’s only polite to walk one’s date to the door (in reality, he just wants to spend a little more time with you). As the bus rattles along the road, Kevin lets you listen to the songs on his phone, delighting in the way your head bobs to the beat of his favorite tracks.

Kevin’s a bit sad when you reach your apartment, sad that your time together is over for the day. He lingers outside the building for a moment, trying to work up the courage to ask about a second date.

Suddenly, you lean forward. Kevin jerks back – he briefly wonders if you’re trying to kiss him – but you just pat a spot on his sweater, frowning slightly at your fingers. “Is that… paint?”

Oh my God.

Kevin tugs the material of his sweater forward so he can see the spot you’re pointing at. Sure enough, there’s a small patch of red paint on the yellow fuzz. He groans. “I didn’t even notice.”

“Well, that’s what people like us get for working with children.” You roll your eyes comically, and Kevin bursts into laughter that’s definitely too loud for the small joke you made. Then silence falls again.

You break it. “Listen, Kevin.”

He perks up. “Hmm?”

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to this date because my aunt has been trying to set me up with people my age for several years now.” For the first time today, you look shy. “She was probably really pushy with you too, so I’m sorry about that. But I really enjoyed this afternoon.” You meet Kevin’s eyes. “If you’d like, I’d love to go on a second date.”

Kevin’s heart explodes. It really does. Sheer excitement courses through his veins, and he has to stop himself from smiling widely enough to mimic a god damn clown. “I’d love that,” he says trying to hide how eager he really is. “Um, I’ll say that I wasn’t exactly looking forward to this either, mostly because my experience with blind dates has had… limited success. But I’m really glad I met you. You’re a wonderful person.”

Your smile grows wider at Kevin’s admission. “Thank you, Kevin. You’re wonderful too.”

“Do you kiss on the first date?” he blurts out because his brain has no filter. Then he backtracks. “Um, it’s totally okay if you don’t, I was just asking, please don’t think I’m a creep –”

You briefly press your lips to his. Kevin shuts up.

When you break away, Kevin honestly thinks you’re glowing. “Does that answer your question?” you ask, bravely trying to hide something – is that embarrassment? Whatever it is, he thinks it’s adorable.

Kevin blushes. “Yes.”

People probably think he’s insane with the way he’s smiling on the bus ride back to his apartment. He can’t help it, though – the tingling touch of your lips, gentle against his, plays over and over in his mind, along with memories of your lovely voice and your lovely smile and your lovely, lovely disposition. Some people are giving him weird looks, and Jacob and Changmin are sure to tease him to no end when he comes in to work tomorrow.

But who cares? Kevin’s got a second date in the works with one of the most wonderful people he’s ever met.

In his mind, he’s on top of the world.

. . . . .

ii.

Usually, when Kevin gets lucky and scores a second date or a third, he suggests taking his date somewhere with children to gauge how they feel about small toddlers tearing up the place. Children are a huge part of Kevin’s life – he teaches elementary school and knows he wants kids when he gets a bit older – so one of the silent standards he’s set for potential significant others is that they have to like and be good with children.

You work at a children’s hospital, Kevin knows, so you must at least be good with kids, even if you might not like them (hey, it’s possible – Kevin has known many people who are good at things they hate). That fulfills half of the standard. He just needs to gauge the other half.

There aren’t many events at the school coming up, though – no plays, no art exhibitions, nothing he can really invite you to. He’s racking his brains for a third date somehow involving children when you unexpectedly call him about an event at the hospital.

“I know it’s last minute,” you apologize profusely, “but the guy who was supposed to come today for the kids’ music hour called in sick. I don’t want to cancel the event because they always look forward to it and I know you play the piano – would it be possible for you to fill in?”

It is possible, it turns out. He may not be able to pack his Yamaha upright into the back of your car, but he does have an electronic keyboard that fits into your trunk. The whole way there, you’re apologizing, but between reassurances that it’s totally fine, Kevin can’t help but anticipate how you’ll act around the children once the two of you arrive.

Setting up takes more time than he’d like (the extension cord that comes with his keyboard is too short, so you disappear on a twenty-minute manhunt for a longer one while Kevin just stands there awkwardly), which makes him feel slightly like a burden on the rest of your coworkers. They’re so polite, though, so genuine and kind, that Kevin eventually starts to feel more at ease.

(He’s still endlessly grateful when you return, extension cord clasped victoriously in one hand.)

Then the kids start trickling in, and Kevin’s heart immediately both breaks and melts. Some are in wheelchairs, others have lost their hair, but they’re all smiling with so much excitement, chattering to their parents and the staff around them as they settle on beanbags and pillows on the floor. Several look at him curiously and he smiles at them, prompting several questions about who he is, why there’s a keyboard and not a guitar, and why the normal guy isn’t here.

“The usual guy got sick and couldn’t come,” Kevin says to one sweet girl with chubby cheeks and shining eyes. “I’m just here to replace him for a day.”

“Do you play the piano?” she asks, shyly pointing at the keyboard, which more than a few curious souls are standing around.

Kevin smiles. “Yes, I do.” He would say more, maybe offer to show her the instrument a little, but then you’re walking over, and her eyes brighten. “Dr. L/N!” she cheers.

With a loud laugh, you swoop her up carefully, cradling the girl against your shoulder. “How are you, Daeun?” you ask, lips spread in a smile that Kevin knows can’t be faked.

The girl – Daeun – grins. “I’ve been good!” she announces proudly. “Are we going to start soon?”

You laugh again, settling her back down on the floor. Kevin thinks his heart melts with the way your eyes sparkle. “Yes, we are,” you say. “I see you’ve already met Kevin?”

“Your name is Kevin?” Daeun looks at him curiously. “Your name is strange.”

Kevin has to force himself not to coo. “I was born in Canada,” he says. “My Korean name is Hyungseo.”

Daeun’s nose scrunches. “I like Kevin more,” she decides with finality.

Kevin feels brave enough to pat her on the head. “Then you can call me Kevin.”

“All right, Daeun. Go find your mom, okay? Kevin and I are going to finish setting up, and then we’ll get started.” With a soft kiss on the forehead (Kevin makes a sound he really hopes you don’t hear – the scene is just too adorable), you send the small girl off, turning back to Kevin. “Shall we get started?” you ask, grinning widely.

It may only be the third date, but he’s falling in love, Kevin thinks, falling in love with your shining face and sparkling eyes, with the way you shower love upon the children you’ve placed under your care. Right now, you’re everything he’s ever wanted in a future partner – beautiful in character, kind, gentle, fiercely loving.

His heart pounds a little faster.

Belatedly, Kevin realizes you’re waiting for a response and nods quickly. “Yeah,” he breathes, eyes glancing over the sea of children waiting (somewhat) patiently. A smile to rival yours spreads across his face. “Let’s get started.”

. . . . .

iii.

Kevin loves the last Friday of every month, he really does. It’s been tradition for several years now to go out with Changmin and Jacob on what he calls nights for “the boyz” to eat cheap food and get drunk. And no matter how much the others complain about the stupid name (Kevin will admit it sounds stupid now, but that doesn’t mean he’ll change it), he knows they enjoy the nights all the same.

Sometimes, though, Kevin just wishes he had more of a filter on his mouth. If not that, then maybe his brain could stop remembering every single dumb thing he said or did on drunk nights out. It would make his life a lot easier if he could just forget being stupid.

But no, God decided to be mean when making Kevin Moon. So Kevin, as a result, is an emotional drunk. He cries a lot when he hears about sad or adorable things, he says a lot of stupid stuff to (badly) express his overwhelming feelings, and worst of all, he remembers all of it when he wakes up hungover the next morning.

(None of this stops him from getting drunk anyway. Kevin Moon doesn’t learn lessons when it comes to alcohol. When he falls on his face (sometimes literally), he just gets up again, even if it’s with a bloody nose.)

Luckily, the night doesn’t end in chaos. Even though Jacob, who’s half of Kevin’s impulse control, leaves after an hour (he’s meeting with his family the next day, so Kevin is obligated call him a noob – it’s like a law of physics or something), Changmin doesn’t seem to be in the mood to do weird things without Jacob there to stop him, so the night passes relatively smoothly without Kevin throwing, like, a tantrum or anything.

He gets close, though. Because damn, if Changmin isn’t so fucking adorable when talking about his partner. Buried in his purple hoodie, black hair peeking softly over the top, it’s impossible for Kevin not to tear up when Changmin begins gushing over his beautiful, amazing, wonderful significant other whom he just compared to stardust.

Stardust.

Kevin wants to scream, that’s so romantic.

When you come to pick him and Changmin up, Kevin can’t resist relaying all of this to you as soon as he gets in the car. Vaguely, he thinks he should be worried about Changmin hearing it and hitting him, but the boy is mostly asleep in the back, eyes only fluttering slightly when you go over a bump or something. After Changmin gets dropped off at his apartment, Kevin turns the gushing on full force.

“Y/N, the love of my life, he called her stardust,” he’s still babbling even as you strongarm him up to his own apartment. “He’s so adorable. Changmin is so adorable. Oh my God.”

He thinks you snort. Probably. It would be a normal response. “Didn’t you call him the spawn of Satan just a few days ago?”

Definitely a snort, Kevin thinks, but he’s too invested in Changmin’s loveliness to whine about you making fun of him. “Y/N,” he pouts instead, “listen to meeeeee.”

“I’m listening, I’m listening.” You grunt, catching him just as he misses the next step and almost falls forward. “Hey, be careful.”

“’M trying.” Kevin manfully does his best to stop the world from tilting on its side. “But Changminnie.”

“Yes, yes, Changminnie.” Even drunk, Kevin can make out the playful exasperation in your voice. “Keep going.”

“Thank you, love of my life.” Kevin tries to give you a kiss but his lips hit air instead of your cheek. “Heck.”

You burst into loud laughter. “Kevin Moon, you never told me you were this adorable when drunk.”

“Changminnie,” he says more insistently.

“Okay, yes, I’m listening.” You kiss his cheek instead, and Kevin almost topples over right then and there. “Hey, you can’t fall over whenever I kiss you. Tell me about Changmin.”

Kevin starts flailing his arms around as best he can. “He’s so cute!” he half-yells. “He told me his partner was like stardust because she’s so perfect and warm, but she’s also like stardust because… because…”

His lip juts out.

“Oh, no, don’t cry, Kev.” You stop moving, then Kevin registers you bundling him into a hug, patting his head. “I know you’re a sad emotional drunk, but don’t cry.”

“Not crying,” Kevin protests, visibly crying.

“Mhm.” You pat his head one last time before letting go. “Hey, give me a second, I’m going to unlock your door.”

There’s some fumbling and a quiet snick, then Kevin obediently follows you through the door of his apartment. Once inside, you press a thumb to the side of his face, brushing a tear away. “Tell me what Changmin said to make you sad.”

“Changminnie said he’s afraid she’ll… she’ll… slip away between his fingers. Like stardust.” Kevin feels like he’s going to start sobbing any moment now. “He’s afraid she’s going to leave him eventually because she’s too perfect and he’s not good enough.”

“Oh my God.” You sit down on the couch. Kevin follows suit, albeit a lot more ungracefully as he collapses onto a cushion in a tangle of limbs. “Oh my God, that’s so sad and cute at the same time.”

“I said he should call her his star,” Kevin mumbles, turning slightly so he can burrow into your side. “Because stardust. Texted them about it. Both of them.”

Your laugh sounds like music even to the drunken haze of his brain. “Wonder what they’ll think when they see a drunken keysmash on their phones first thing tomorrow morning.”

The two of you sit in silence for a bit. Kevin feels his eyes beginning to get droopy, and he almost falls asleep before a thought strikes him with lightning force.

“I need to give you a nickname!” he almost yells, sitting bolt upright. The movement makes the room spin, but he doesn’t care. This is urgent. “Changmin’s going to call her his star, but I haven’t given you a nickname yet!”

“Kev, Kev.” You hold him by the shoulders, and he relaxes a little. “You can come up with a nickname for me in the morning. Right now, I think you need to sleep.”

“No,” he whines, shifting in your grip. “This is important. You need a nickname.” He sinks into deep, drunken thoughts, the kinds of thoughts he has when he ignores everything around him in favor of getting philosophical after having drunk too much alcohol.

Then it hits him.

“Oh my God,” he gasps. “Oh my God.” It’s his turn to grab you by the shoulders, now. “Oh my God. You’re the sun. Because I’m the moon. Get it? Kevin Moon?”

Through his drunken haze, Kevin thinks he sees you smile, maybe. It looks like a smile.

Your eyes are sparkling. You look happy.

Probably a smile.

“I’m a genius,” he whispers. A genius for coming up with the nickname and for making you happy.

“Sure, Kevin.” You grunt a little as he shifts his weight. “Come on, get up. We’ll see if you’re still a genius tomorrow if you wake up and remember all of this.”

Kevin doesn’t register much for the rest of the night, just remembers falling into his bed and forcing you to lie down next to him. The next morning, he wakes up with a throbbing headache and the vague, ever-present worry that he said something stupid last night.

You’re not in the bed with him anymore. Kevin blinks once, twice, before trying to sit up so to figure out where you went. Then he remembers you don’t live here. You probably went home.

Which is why he nearly goes into cardiac arrest when you appear in his doorway, holding a mug of coffee and a glass of water.

For a moment, the two of you just stare at each other. Kevin’s not sure what thoughts are running through your head, but he knows he’s trying to piece together what happened last night, and whether or not he should be hiding under the covers out of embarrassment.

Then it hits him.

Sun.

Moon.

Genius.

Oh, God.

Kevin wants to die.

“Morning, sunshine,” he says, using your new nickname in the desperate hope that it’ll distract you from remembering the rest of what he said last night.

A catlike smirk curls your lips as you walk over, pressing the glass of water into his hands. A feeling of dread fills Kevin’s heart as he takes it.

“Morning, genius,” you say with enough evil delight to power Changmin for a year.

Kevin groans. “I was drunk.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Your teasing smile melts into something gentler as you place your mug on the bedside table, turning to bring the glass of water in his hands to his lips. “Coffee’s mine, don’t touch it or I’ll break a bone. Drink the water. I made some breakfast, so come into the kitchen whenever you feel up to it. After you’ve brushed your teeth.”

Warmth courses through Kevin’s body, and it has nothing to do with the alcohol from last night and everything to do with how you’re here in body and mind, sweetly helping him recover from a stupid hangover even when it’s definitely not your problem to take care of and you probably have better things to do. His heart thumps, loud enough that he thinks you could probably hear it.

In this moment, Kevin doesn’t think he’s ever been more grateful for anything than you coming into his life.

“Got it.” He awkwardly tries to salute, but he does it with the hand holding the glass and the water nearly spills onto the bed. As his cheeks flush, you break into snorting giggles.

Even though it’s at his expense, Kevin thinks he would do anything, anything in the world, to keep that wonderful smile on your face and that musical laughter in the air.

. . . . .

iv.

Only when you move in together does Kevin realize just how taxing your job is. He had an idea from when you sometimes had to cancel or move around dates, but when you did meet up, you were usually energetic and cheerful. Of course, there were the token dates where you just came over to Kevin’s apartment or he came over to yours and you just flopped around for a few hours. Outside, though, you always showed a bright face.

But that was because dates were mostly on your days off or when your hours were short, and as a result, you felt good enough, energized enough to show Kevin your brilliant smile. When you first moved in together, Kevin felt a bit surprised – well, maybe not surprised, but saddened – that you didn’t have the energy to smile as brightly as he saw before.

It’s fine by Kevin, though. You smile often enough, and if your teeth don’t show as much as they used to, there’s something beautiful, something calming and sweet in the slower curve of your lips, the gentle, lethargic way you lean up for a kiss. After all, Kevin has enough energy to compensate for when you might lack some of yours.

(It helps that he can cook, he thinks. Even when the kids at school sometimes wear him out, the brief sparkle in your eye that spreads across your lips when you walk through the door to see him stirring something on the stove is more than enough to make up for it.)

You’re cute, too, when you’re tired. Though Kevin loves it when you’re energetic and ready for whatever the day has decided to throw in your path, there’s something so peaceful, so pleasant about feeling you lying lethargically against his side on the couch, scrolling through your phone or reading a book or just resting, doing nothing but breathing softly. Kevin cherishes those small moments, the soft atmosphere where he kisses your hair and you smile, reach up, and press a kiss of your own to his cheek.

Tonight is one of those nights, a night of soft, comforting silence, words few and far between. It’s been a bit warm lately, so Kevin’s elected to wear one of the tank tops he keeps for the warmer months instead of his usual sweater.

You sit next to him on the couch, back pressed to his side as you send off emails on your phone. Kevin’s working too, inputting grades on his laptop. He hums a little under his breath to take his mind off of the monotony of his task.

At some point, you finish, putting down your phone with a sigh and slumping into his ribs. Kevin starts at the sudden movement. “Sunshine,” he whines, even though he could really care less.

“Moon boy,” you parrot in the same tone of voice.

Kevin’s attention turns back to his laptop, so he barely registers you shifting on the couch to a new position. He does notice it, though, when your fingers start trailing along his skin, exposed by the lack of sleeves on his tank top, because your touch tickles.

You completely ignore his resulting twitch of surprise, only keep tracing the skin of his rib cage. Kevin looks down, confused as to what’s caught your attention.

Oh. His tattoos.

“Sunshine?” he asks softly, watching your fingers shift along his skin.

“Mm,” you hum, eyes still fixated on the ink decorating his side.

“Sleepy?”

Slowly, you shake your head, fingers paused on the image of Mickey Mouse. “Not yet.”

He goes back to inputting grades, all the while still aware of your fingers tracing the lines, the curls, the swirls of black ink along his side. When he finishes, he looks over before closing his laptop to see your eyes still focused on his skin.

Something in his heart explodes, spreading a tingly, comforting warmth throughout his body. It’s a feeling he’s come to associate with your presence, a feeling of absolute security, absolute trust, absolute warmth that comes with falling in love with you.

You look up, noticing his lack of movement. “Finished, moonbeams?”

“First moon boy, now moonbeams?” Kevin teases you lightly, picking up the hand you were using to trace his skin and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. Just like every other time he’s ever done it, a wide smile spreads across your face and a shyness sparkles in your eyes, as though you still can’t believe the bliss of the moment.

(At least, that’s what Kevin feels every time you do something to remind him that he’s yours.)

Your voice breaks into his thoughts. “Can’t call you moonshine, that’s an alcohol.” You shrug as best as you can in your stretched-out position. “Moonbeams, moon boy… whatever feels right.”

Kevin puts his laptop on the coffee table. As he leans back into the couch, you curl up into him, one hand still lingering against the Mickey Mouse tattoo on his side. “Tell me about these?” you ask, pressing your fingers a bit more firmly against the ink.

His tattoos are personal, serving as reminders of the past and inspiration to keep moving. Rarely does he share their meanings with anyone (not that people usually ask, because the tattoos are mostly covered by his clothes), and only with those who mean the world to him.

Kevin thinks you qualify as one of them.

Touching your shoulders, he turns you around slightly, just enough to press a short, sweet kiss to the top of your head. “Of course, sunshine.” He smiles, gazing into your eyes, feeling the warmth of your love travel through his limbs. “Which one first?”

. . . . .

v.

Kevin Moon, for the majority of his life, has hovered in between being classified as a morning person or a night owl. Yes, he gets up at six in the morning for a cup of coffee, but he also stays up past midnight doing… stuff. Grading, writing reports, watching cat videos, wasting time.

(When Changmin judges his lifestyle, Kevin just reminds him that he fell in love with his roommate’s hookup and is on a dance team with the parent of one of his students.)

Honestly, if Kevin didn’t remind himself every so often that he’s currently a full adult, his lifestyle would make him think he was still in college. He certainly still acts like it when he isn’t working. Procrastinating? Check. Crying over reports he needs to submit at three a.m.? Check. Flopping around on the floor when life is going badly? Check.

And most importantly: nonexistent sleep schedule? Check.

You put a stop to that real quick when you move in, both directly and indirectly. Directly, you make an appointment for him at a sleep clinic after figuring out his shitty sleep patterns, and Kevin finds out he probably has mild insomnia. The aftermath is horrible – you put him on a strict sleep schedule and all but ban caffeine from his diet (goodbye, morning coffee) – but it helps, after a couple of weeks. He sleeps better. Perks of having a partner who works in medicine.

Indirectly, though, you probably make a bigger difference.

See, the way Kevin thinks about it, he just never had a lot of reasons to stay in bed very long. Even though he appreciates sleep, really appreciates it on long days, it’s just that he can’t really force it if it doesn’t want to come. He’d also rather be doing something productive (or not productive, depends on the asker’s perspective) than lying awake for hours, anyway.

But now that he’s waking up to a face he loves?

Well, even if you sometimes disappear before he wakes (hospital hours are whack as hell, but sadly, you can’t ignore your job), Kevin will just say your warmth is a powerful incentive to stay huddled under the covers, even if he can’t fall back asleep.

He still wakes up every morning to grey light beginning to peek through the window. No matter how hard he tries to sleep in just a little longer, his body can’t seem to stay unconscious past six in the morning, so both of you have just resigned yourselves to the fact that Kevin will always be an early riser.

Before you walked into his life, he would’ve rolled out of bed almost immediately, stumbled to the bathroom (and maybe knocked his knee against the doorframe, who knows), then started brewing coffee in the kitchen to start the day.

Now?

A drowsy smile begins to make its way across Kevin’s face, soft as the morning light, when his brain catches up to the present and he registers your warmth under the covers. Sleepily, he blinks, taking in the sight of your peaceful face buried halfway in the sheets.

You shouldn’t look this beautiful, Kevin thinks, not with your hair strewn all over the pillow, blankets rumpled around your shoulders, arms outstretched so that one sort of curls over his body while the other is held up to your chest. It’s the morning – no one should look pretty and put-together. That isn’t natural.

(Unless you happy to be Kim Younghoon, but that’s another story.)

Yet you somehow look like a sleeping deity in Kevin’s mind, even with your hair a mess and drool drying on the pillowcase. As the drowsiness clears from his eyes, as the light from the window grows brighter, Kevin can barely even think of moving, of disturbing your peace.

He dislikes your alarm. It’s loud, annoying, and hits him with a jolt when he’s just trying to take these stolen morning moments to admire your beauty. When he complains about it the first time, you tell him to serve as the alarm, to wake you up himself.

Kevin counters that he’s an artist, that he needs peace and quiet to give beauty of such a degree the respect it deserves. You just roll your eyes, telling him that if he isn’t going to wake you up, the alarm’s going to have to take that job. The smile on your face, though, and the brief kiss you press to his lips right after, speaks volumes for the emotions Kevin’s words make you feel.

(He loves flustering you like this, even if you pretend his words don’t make you feel some sort of way.)

So eventually, you wake, eyes fluttering as the alarm brings you back to the conscious plane. Kevin’s heart feels like it’s bursting when your eyes fully open, blearily blinking at the world.

“Morning, sunshine,” he whispers, running one hand through your hair.

You lean slightly into the touch, the corners of your lips twitching up. And every day, as he stares into your sleepy eyes, lips curling as you whisper a quiet “Morning, moon boy” in reply, Kevin knows he’s falling, falling in love with every part of you.

. . . . .

+i.

Kevin’s waiting in front of the school when you pull up at the curb. Smiling apologetically, he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek as you step out of the car. “Sorry, sunshine.” He gestures at the two small boys standing beside him, absorbed in their own world. “Their uncle’s running late and Changmin and Jacob have things to do, so I need to wait for Sangyeon to pick them up before we can go.”

“No worries.” You return the kiss, smiling as bright as the sun. Kevin feels a flash of pride for coming up with a nickname that fits you so well. “We have the whole afternoon, don’t we?”

“That, we do.” He grins, squeezing your hand.

“Mr. Moon, who’s that?” a small voice asks closer to the ground. The two of you turn to see Sunwoo and Eric trotting over, curious looks on their faces.

Kevin looks over at you, but you’re already bending down to get to eye level with the two boys. “Oh, hello!” Your grin, if possible, grows wider. “I’m Y/N, Kevin’s significant other. What are your names?”

“I’m Eric,” Eric pipes up. “This is my brother, Sunwoo.”

Sunwoo just stares with round eyes. Well, he’s always been the shyer of the two.

“Those are lovely names,” you reply smoothly, giving Sunwoo an encouraging smile. Kevin feels his heart melt completely at how well you interact with the kids. “I’m just going to be waiting with Kevin until your uncle picks you up, is that okay?”

The two kids nod and immediately go back to babbling in their own little world. Kevin notices the fond smile on your face, and his heart melts even more.

“They’re so cute,” you whisper to him.

“I know, right?” Kevin clutches his heart dramatically. “Can you imagine teaching them every day?”

Just as you’re shaking your head in comic disbelief, another car pulls up behind yours. A harried-looking young man quickly exits and Eric and Sunwoo cheer, distracted by the arrival of their uncle.

“Sorry about this,” Sangyeon says, absentmindedly patting Eric’s head as the boy hugs his leg. Sunwoo seems to be attempting to climb onto his uncle’s back. “Traffic wasn’t the kindest when I was getting out of work.” Then he notices you. “Oh, hello. Are you Kevin’s partner?”

“That I am.” You stick out a hand. “I’m Y/N, and I’ve been told you’re Sangyeon?”

Sangyeon nods, smiling. “Nice to meet you. And to see that Kevin’s found someone to deal with his antics.”

Kevin blushes as you laugh. “Hey,” he complains. “No jokes at my expense, please.”

“Sure, moonbeams.” You roll your eyes, then turn back to Sangyeon. “It’s nice to meet you. Your nephews are adorable.”

The smile that Sangyeon gives the two boys clambering around him says it all. “They are, aren’t they?” He checks his watch. “I’m sorry, I have to go now. My sister’s expecting us back soon, and I’m already a bit late.”

Kevin breathes a sigh of relief. No more teasing at his expense from Sangyeon, at least, though there’s no guarantee from you. “Nice seeing you, Sangyeon. And have a good day, kids.”

A small chorus of “You too, Mr. Moon!” sounds, and Kevin expects that to be the end. Sangyeon will herd the boys into the car, Kevin will follow you into yours, and then you’ll go your separate ways. What he doesn’t expect is for Sunwoo to look out at you from behind his uncle’s leg, round eyes cautiously curious, and ask you a question.

“Y/N?”

Immediately, you turn around, teasing smirk melting into a gentle smile for the small boy. “Yes, Sunwoo?”

Sunwoo’s eyes dart between you and Kevin. Then, softly, shyly – “Do you love Mr. Moon?”

Time seems to stop as Kevin’s breath hitches in his throat at the sudden question, but you only look back at him, eyes soft and sparkling in the sunlight. 

Your answer glitters in your gaze.

Though you’re supposed to be talking to Sunwoo, your eyes stay fixed on Kevin, strong and unyielding, yet gentle and affectionate, as you answer. Your voice is soft when you reply. “Yes, Sunwoo. I do love him.” The smile on your face grows wider as you turn back to the child. “I love him very much.”

Indescribable warmth floods Kevin’s chest and tears prick his eyes. And as Sangyeon hurries his nephews away, as you turn around to unlock your car, one truth burns with absolute, crystal-clear certainty in his mind.

He isn’t falling in love with you, not anymore. No, he’s far past that stage.

Kevin Moon is completely, wholly, irrevocably in love with you.

“Kevin?” You look at him from the other side of the car. “You coming?”

A wide grin spreads across his face as he meets your sparkling eyes. Love blooms in his chest.

“Coming, sunshine.”

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for kevin’s whipped ass ksjdkgsdhjk)

#tbznetwork #destinyverse #kpopscape #the boyz #tbz #the boyz scenarios #tbz scenarios #the boyz oneshots #the boyz imagines #the boyz kevin #tbz kevin #kevin moon #the boyz kevin scenarios #tbz kevin scenarios #kevin scenarios #tbz x reader #the boyz x reader #kevin moon x reader #kevin #fluff #tw cursing #tw alcohol #teacher!au #breathe and live #touching stars #skipping stones #scriptura-delirus

[serendipityjxmn]

Mr. President

Chapter 22

TW: None

Words Count: 2.4k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 23

The doctor lets you come home that Saturday. You notice your husband is home all the time and some days Taehyung or Hoseok or even Jungkook would drop by to send him some files. You tell him you’d be fine on your own but he just brushes you off. He doesn’t shut himself off in his study too, instead he does his work on the study table in the master bedroom near you.

It still feels weird that your husband has completely changed in the time span that you’re in the hospital. He really sticks to his word and tries a lot for you. He’s not being mean to you, he doesn’t snap at you all the time except perhaps when you’re trying to do houseworks because you’re starting to get bored now.

He tries to make it up by bringing in all sorts of art set, empty canvases or easels for you to paint, that the bedroom is starting to look like an art studio. But it’s all done under his immense scrutiny, in case you ‘use too much of your shoulder’ as he says.

You’re still a little afraid of him, not yet coming completely into terms with the mafia side of his, body instinctively jerking away when he’s doing something remotely triggering your sense of alarm. You feel guilty because he never says anything about it, like saying you’re overreacting. He simply understands the trauma he causes so he puts a lot of effort to make sure he doesn’t do more than what you can handle, doesn’t do things that make you jump or touch you in any ways more than necessary.

Sometimes he’d go out briefly to attend necessary business matters and comes home with bouquets of flowers, jewelleries or any sorts of gifts.

And then even though he’s bad at it, he tries to cook for you and little by little you try to embrace him wholly, just by seeing how much he tries to make up for his ‘dark side’. And you adore him for putting so much effort.

He also starts to bring you along when he has his regular sparring sessions while practicing self-defence and martial arts just so you could learn how to defend yourself- what with being the wife of a mafia leader and all. Although of course, you can’t do anything yet so you just sit through the whole two hour watching a bunch of half naked men throwing punches at each other.

As you sit through the sparring session between your husband and Taeseok one day, you can’t help but wonder if your husband has a hidden grudge against him from the way he throws his punches. Once they’re done, you approach Taeseok first without thinking, asking if he’s okay. He seems flustered at first and quickly mutters, “I’m fine, Mrs. Park,” before dismissing himself.

You follow your husband as he heads to the locker room to change.

“Do you really have to hit him that hard? It’s just a sparring session,” you say.

He suddenly stops in his tracks, making you almost bump into his back and then swiftly turns around, narrowing his eyes at you. “Mrs. Park. Are you seriously worrying about another man right now?”

Before you could process it, he pushes you against the locker but in a very careful way, holding your waist instead of your shoulders and a gasp escapes your lips. “Hmm.. how do I punish you for that?”

For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss your lips but then he dips down to your neck and lightly bit it, and your heartbeat rate went from 60 to 150 per minute real quick. You glare at him when he pulls back only to see him smirking at you before he turns on his heel towards the shower.

For the first time ever, you curse your husband.

“I’m gonna have to return to the office soon.” Jimin says while you both are having dinner at home.

You nod. You know it’s inevitable and he would have to return to the company soon. It’s just a matter of time.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay at home?” He asks and you roll your eyes.

“I have three helpers and six bodyguards now, what exactly can happen to me?” You shake your head with a smile. Since your return home, he’d increased the amount of staffs and bodyguards assigned to you.

He reaches for your hand and smiles apologetically. “It’s for your own safety.”

You nod at him. “I know.”

It’s silent after that until he puts down his cutleries. “I’ve been thinking.. perhaps it’s time for me to step down from being the mafia leader.. BTS.”

You swallow but doesn’t say anything.

“I just thought that.. if I want to have a proper marriage with you and start a real family.. well, it won’t help if the father’s constantly targeted by enemies.”

You take a deep breath. “I.. it’s up to you. I... I don’t really... know..”

He gives you a quick smile. “Of course I can’t just put my feet down and wash my hand completely but.. I’ll try to pull back and not step in unless it’s really needed.”

“What does.. you know, BTS do anyways?”

He smiles wickedly. “You wanna know?”

You suddenly think it’s a very bad idea. “I.. I don’t know.. Do you.. do you just- you know.. take people out for fun? Or..”

He chuckles. “No.. no we don’t do that. If it assures you, we don’t kill innocent people. We.. offer like a service, like a hired mercenary to take out people or do some work for the government when they don’t want their hands dirty but they’re all evil people. Those that we.. take out. And doing those kind of things inevitably give you enemies.. but we try not to engage in gang fights unless they start it first.”

You feel a shiver run down your spine. “O... kay..”

His lips quirk up at you. “And that’s it. The rest of the details.. let’s just say they’re unnecessary for you to know.” He stand up then and leans in to peck your forehead quickly. “I’ll be in the study.” He says. You stay in your seat for a moment longer, processing the details of your conversation with your husband. You appreciate that he’s being honest with you a lot more now and doesn’t keep things from you but you can’t help the goosebumps that start to form on your arms whenever he tells you things about the dark side.

It’s been about a week since Jimin has started working at the office again. You fork at your food, no longer having the appetite to finish it. Because you’re too nervous to say something to your husband. You keep glancing at him as he eats that one night, trying to gauge his mood and gathering your courage all at the same time.

Finally, you take a deep breath. “Can I go out with Jungkook tomorrow?”

He doesn’t answer immediately.

You want to go out with Jungkook. You and him had talked a lot about arts before. And this afternoon, he texted you about an art school he found that you’ve been searching for.

“What for?” He asks.

“What do you mean what for?”

He narrows his eyes. “Why do you want to go out with him?”

“I.. have something to.. buy?” You cock your head to one side.

“Isn’t Taeseok enough? You can take him or even Daniel with you. Are you even well enough to go out?”

“It’s been a month since I’ve been discharged..” you pout. “Please..?”

“I’ll come with you then.”

“No! I know you have an important meeting tomorrow. Besides, I’ll be fine with Jungkook.”

There’s a reason why you want Jungkook to come with you. And also because you want to buy your husband a gift. But you can’t tell him that.

He glares. “It’s dangerous to go out with a gang member. Jungkook’s a kid. I don’t trust him with you.”

You struggle not to roll your eyes. “Jimin, I’m literally the same age with him.”

“That makes two kids then.”

You sigh in exasperation. “Jimin please..”

He clenches his jaw. “Fine. If anything happens, I’m not gonna be there.” And with that, he storms out of the kitchen.

You feel like crying. You’ve been getting along so good with him lately and now you’ve ruined it. You have no idea why he’s being so irrelevant. If anything, Jungkook’s probably the best at hand combat, or second best to Jimim at least, you can’t compare due to their different combat style. But nevertheless, he’s highly skilled despite his young age.

You sigh.

“Hey Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. “He’ll come around.”

You smile sadly.

“He’ll realize he’s being stupid so no worries okay?”

You smile at his words then nod. Alright, it’ll be very rude to Jungkook if you keep being out of it when you’re here with him.

“We’re here.” He says as the car pulls into the parking lot. You look out the window. It’s an art school for the special kids. You can’t believe he really found the place for it. You have to thank him or the BTS connections.

When you and Jungkook enters, you are both greeted by one of the school teacher. She brings you both for a tour around the place and you’ve never felt so fascinated with everything.

The reason why you’re searching for this kind of school is because you want to donate to the school. You received a huge sum of insurance money after being hospitalized which you’ve no idea when and how your husband registered for it.

You briefly mentioned about searching for the school to Jungkook because for some reason you feel like he can find anything. And he did.

You thought perhaps Jungkook may feel bored coming out with you. But he seems even more enthusiastic than you. You know he’s very much talented in arts because Jimin has one of his painting back at home and it’s super gorgeous. But you don’t know that he knows this much about arts. He also explains how the school operates from business perspective that leaves you in awe. He really is a businessman that does his research. You smile when you see him play with kids, he’s super kind with them. He bought art sets for a lot of the students which unfortunately was not enough for everyone so he promised he’ll send more for the rest of the kids. Jungkook’s a really nice kid, you think. You smile sheepishly thinking you didn’t bring anything for them.

When the tour with the art school is done, you drag Jungkook to do some shopping with you. For some reason, you feel like buying your husband a gift. Simply because he had been such a huge support ever since you were hospitalized. It’s the only way you could think of to repay him for all the amount of things he had made easier for you and the understanding he shows without having you to say a word.

It’s almost dark when you finally reach home that night. As soon as you step out of the car, you feel slightly disoriented and would’ve doubled over the ground if it wasn’t because of Taeseok, your bodyguard who was trailing from behind immediately holding you.

“Are you alright, Mrs. Park?”

You nod. “Just a little lightheaded.” You quickly dismiss it and enter the house.

Once you’ve finished showering, you set out to search for Jimin. He wasn’t in the bedroom. You head to his study. Still empty. You frown, wondering where he is. You set back downstairs and once again you almost lost balance completely, the stairs’ image doubling for a split second.

What’s with the sudden headache? You almost want to ask your head.

Head still spinning, you head towards the lounge room and from outside the room, you hear the muffled sound from the TV. When you enter, you see your husband in his pyjama pants and casual T-shirt. He’s watching TV, which is very rare, you think.

He briefly glances at you as you make your way towards him but makes no effort to say anything.

“Jimin..? Are you still mad at me?”

He doesn’t look up. You stand awkwardly beside him.

“I’m back in one piece.” You try to joke.

He glares at this. Oops, not funny it seems.

You hesitantly sit next to him. “Can I borrow your hand?” When he won’t look at you, you take his hand in yours. And suddenly his head snaps towards you when you’re about to reach for the gift behind you. You gasp when he clasped his fingers tighter. Then his other hand touches your forehead.

“Why are you so hot?” He asks.

“Am I?” You giggle. The question sounds a little funny.

He rolls his eyes then proceeds to touch your neck. “You’re having a fever.”

“Am I?”

He narrows his eyes at you, clearly not finding the situation funny. “I let you out with the kid for a day and you come home sick.”

“It’s not his fault..”

He narrows his eyes at you and you shut your mouth immediately. “Stay here. I’ll fetch the thermometer.” You reach for his hand immediately.

“Please sit down. I have something to give you.”

He frowns but does as he’s told.

Smiling, you reach for the gift. “I bought something for you today..” He stares as you open it and gently place it on his wrist. “It’s not that expensive like your other watches.. but um.. It’s a watch and a bracelet. With our name...”

He stares at the gift. Then he looks at you softly. “Thank you. I love it.” He leans forward very, very slowly and even though you can anticipate it, your heart is not ready. He plants a kiss on your forehead and you feel your own heart rate picking up. You think you’ll faint at any second. Your rapid heartbeat and a buzzing head, not a good combination.

“Are you still mad at me?” Your eyes almost flutter close.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not mad, idiot. I’m just worried.” He puts a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s very easy for you to be targeted if you’re out with the members.. I don’t want to put you through any of that ever again because of me..”

You shut your eyes. Because your husband’s soft voice is really like a lullaby. Also because you can’t hold it anymore. You fell into into his arms and he catches you easily.

He gently carries you in his arms to the bedroom. His heart full of adoration for you.

I’m bad at writing fluffs but I hope this is super sweet and smooth like butter to make you guys smile 🤣 also, thanks for the warm words in previous chapters 🥺 you guys are amazing!!!!!

Buy me a cup of coffee here! 💜

Link to Chapter 23

Posted on 210522 9:00PM

#serendipityjxmn #serendipityjxmnmrpresident #mrpresident #mr president #bts fic #bts au #bts smut #jimin au #park jimin #parkjimin #kpop fic #jimin smut #jimin ceo #jimin mafia #bts mafia #jimin x reader

[babbushka]

Because we’ve been talking about it and because it’s a favorite mood, how about some agressive, possessive, scary Flip busting the heads of some deserving creeps for sinday? If you feel like it of course! Angry/winding down smut is always fun if you’re in the mood too! 💗

Anonymous said: Omg from the kink list can you please write something with Flip and the following kinks? Or any of them? Possessive. Marking. Size kink. Public sex. I’m excited for sinday! Thank you for hosting it! 🖤

(2.3k, Young!Flip & his girl and just dating in this ficlet! cw: mentioned harassment, graphic descriptions of violence. NSFW: possessive behavior, marking, PIV) 

Rain pours down hard and heavy on the roof of the CSPD, as Flip and Jimmy hang around the station late at night. They’re rookies, so they get the worst fuckin’ shifts, but at the very least things aren’t too busy at an hour like this. Their shift is just about over as a matter of fact, they even changed out of their uniforms and are about to walk out of the station when the phone rings.

Officially off duty, Flip and Jimmy play around for a couple seconds debating between the two of them who is going to pick up, and on the fourth ring, Flip answers it with a tired, “Officer Zimmerman speaking.”

He isn’t too sure what he’s expecting, but hearing the cold shiver of your voice shuddering through the phone sure as shit isn’t it.

“Flip? Honey it’s me – can you come get me?” You sound terrified, and cold, and scared – and Flip’s blood freezes in his veins.

Jimmy can sense something is wrong too, just from the way Flip goes deathly still, listening to the surroundings and trying to make out where you’re calling him from. The rain sounds so loud, he knows you’re not at home.

“What’s the matter? Where are you?” He demands, suddenly frantic, rushing around to grab everything he needs to get the fuck out of there and get over to you.

“At the payphone on the corner of Johnson and 8th. Please can you just come get me?” You sniffle, and Flip sees spots, rage blinding him.

“Stay right there, you hear me? Don’t leave, Jimmy is going to stay on the line with you.” He doesn’t say anything to his friend, just shoves the phone into his hand and races to his car.

It takes less than five minutes for him to speed through the nearly empty streets, holding his breath along the way. His thumbs rap against the steering wheel anxiously, conjuring up all sorts of horrifying things that could’ve happened to you. When he pulls to the curb on the corner of Johnson and 8th, and sees you cold and alone in that little payphone, he tries his best not to scream.

You race to the side of his car and get settled in the passenger seat, letting out a breath that you had been holding too as you cry a little into your hands.

“What happened?” Flip asks, voice moving too quick, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay I – ”

“Who did what to you?” He demands, making sure you’re buckled in sweetly and kissing you on the cheek, cranking the heat so the cold doesn’t settle into your wet clothes.

Flip peals out onto the pavement again, practically flooring it, not even really knowing where he’s taking you, just wanting to take you somewhere safe.

“You know the fella that lives across the street? Tommy? The nice fella who always helped cut the lawn?” You hiccup.

“Yeah?” Flip’s jaw is clenched so tight he’s sure it’s going to snap, white-knuckle grip on the wheel.

“I was walking home from the store and he pulled up and asked if I wanted a ride, because it’s late and was about to rain.” Your voice wobbles around the story, and somewhere in the back of his head, Flip is relieved that you’re yourself enough to tell a whole story. You never did get straight to the point, it’s one of the things he loved about you.

“Yeah?” He encourages anyway, letting the sound of your voice, wobbly though it may be, soothe his frazzled nerves.

“So I said yes but then he started to touch me and I said to stop, he didn’t stop, he grabbed me so I hit him and he hit me back and then he pushed me out of the car.” Your voice cracks on that, and there go Flip’s nerves.

Like he’s gunning for the coca-cola 500, Flip tears through the streets and blows through every red light, keeping one hand in yours the whole time. It isn’t long before he pulls up to your neighborhood, your house just a few blocks away from his own. The porchlight is off, meaning your parents aren’t home yet.

Across the street, Tommy’s porchlight is on.

“Ketsl why don’t you go inside, wash those tears off your face.” Flip says, his voice dangerously calm.

“’Kay. Love you.” You kiss his cheek, the tears mostly stopped.

“Love you too, I’ll be right in.” He taps the underside of your chin with his finger, and waits for you to get all the way inside your house, door closed behind you, before he gets out of his car.

Hidden in the glove-compartment is a small pistol, not one that’s issued by the CSPD or anything, just a small something that he bought a couple years ago just in case of an emergency. He doesn’t think twice about taking it and sticking it in the waistband of his trousers, and walks across the street in the pouring rain, to Tommy’s house.

Flip had been dating you for a couple months now, and he’s picked you up and dropped you off more times than he could count. He recognizes Tommy’s car in the driveway, and is glad that it’s the only one there, as he cracks the joints in his neck and rings the doorbell.

A moment or two goes by before the shitbag himself answers, his perfectly parted blonde hair backlit by the overhead light behind him. Flip also happens to notice the black-eye he’s sporting, and knows that must have been from you.

Tommy eyes Flip up and down, recognizing him too.

“What the fuck do you want – ow! Hey! Fuck!” Tommy doesn’t get very far before Flip has pulled out the gun from his waist, and cracks him across the face with it.

On the first hit, Tommy crumples to the ground, hands up, defensive, trying to shield his face, but Flip doesn’t let up. He pistol whips this sonofabitch again and again and again, until his blood is spraying all across Flip’s knuckles, until his nose crunches under the force of Flip’s beating.

The sound of metal hitting skull and rain hitting pavement fills Flip’s ears, and he gives Tommy a harsh kick to the gut for good measure. The man’s perfectly parted hair is now soaked with water from the front step, water that washes away his blood.

Flip grabs him by the shirt collar and holds him level with his own face, looking him straight in the eye and threatening – no, promising, “I swear on my fucking mother if you ever touch her again you’re dead.”  

With that, he drops Tommy, and the man scrambles back inside, shutting the door to nurse his wounds in private. Flip licks across his teeth, and lets out a deep breath, feeling good. Flip walks across the street once again, back to your house.

You’re waiting there, at the door, just on the other side of the screen, moonlight reflecting in your eyes.

“Can I come in?” Flip asks softly, “Or do you want to be alone?”

“Please stay with me.” Your answer is immediate, and it fills Flip with relief. He doesn’t ever want to do anything that would scare you or make you uncomfortable, and he’s just now realizing that this is the first time he’s ever gotten into a fight in front of you. He doesn’t know how you’ll react, and he’s worried, worried that you might think he’s no good for you now.

You open the door wider for him, and he slips inside where it’s nice and warm, the familiar surroundings of your living room calming him down.

“Did you see…?” He gestures with his thumb behind him.

“I saw.” You nod, standing in the living room with your arms wrapped around yourself.

“Are you angry?” Flip tries not to sound too afraid of the idea, but still, the fear is there.

“Are you kidding?” You frown, shaking your head at once, and then letting out a bit of an unexpected laugh, “To tell you the truth…seeing you so strong and protective like that? It turned me on.”

Oh…oh! Flip hadn’t thought of that as a possibility until you say it, and suddenly all his fears have vanished.  He looks at you, and you look at him, and then you’re smiling real wide, despite it all.

“Yeah?” Flip takes a step towards you, and then another step, until you meet him and close the distance between your bodies with your arms thrown around his neck, your mouth crashing onto his.

Immediately, Flip shucks off his jacket and begins trying to peel you out of your clothing, which is real fucking difficult because everything is so wet. You kiss him, tongues sliding against one another, lips sucking and biting at one another as you pant pant pant, lust and love and possessive desire curling around in Flip’s bones.

“Take me to your room?” Flip asks, and you nod, half dressed and leading him up the stairs.

By the time you get up there, you’re naked and Flip’s not too far behind. You bring him to the bed eagerly, desperately, falling backwards onto the mattress with a big smile, the kind of smile that makes Flip just have to kiss you – so he does.

“Fuck me,” You moan, shuffling underneath him and spreading your legs for him, Flip fitting perfectly in the space between them, “Please?”

He’d never say no to you, not to his girl, so he pushes a few fingers into your pussy to see if you’re stretched enough to take him, and though it’ll be a tight fit, he doesn’t want to waste any more time. So, slowly, he pushes the head of his cock through your folds and feels your body swallow him down, cunt clenching and fluttering as he rocks himself deeper deeper deeper into you.

“Shit,” Flip groans, the hot tight wet clutch of your cunt making him almost drool, as he begins to build up a thrusting rhythm, “Shit you’re so good.”

You laugh at that, one of your legs winding around his hips, the ball of your foot digging into his lower back and keeping him there. You kiss him as he fucks you, something sturdy and steady – just like him.

Flip sucks marks into your flesh, all across your shoulders, your chest, even one onto your neck. He marks you up, a possessive clingy sort of desperate energy. The world is going to know you’re cared for, taken care of, and that he’s the man that’s doing the best fucking job at it. It makes Flip’s blood fucking boil thinking about creeps like Tommy, creeps who think they can push you around or ignore your wishes, disrespecting you. Flip stakes his claim on you, but only because you’ve told him he can. You told him, and he wants the world to know it.

“A little faster? Just a – yes! Yes just like that!” You encourage him, “God that’s good Flip, you fuck me so well.”

The praise goes straight to his cock, throbbing and aching inside of you. Flip continues to carry his markings down onto your chest, licking and sucking at your nipples, burying his face in the cleavage there to bite and kiss at your skin. He breathes you in and fucks you deep, his hips pushing you up up up the mattress with the effort, the strength of it.

“Can I come in you?” Flip asks, panting and groaning and grunting against your lips, watching as bruises begin to bloom under your flesh.

“Yes!” You shout, eager and so in love, and that’s what does it for him.

“Shit – ” He groans low in his throat as he crosses over the edge, orgasm washing over him as he comes and comes inside the heat of your cunt.

You’re not far behind, because Flip doesn’t let up even though he’s come, he wants to take you there too.

A moment or two later you’re following after him, yoru body tensing up before melting beneath him, your leg sliding off from around his hip, a big moaning sigh pouring out of your mouth.

“I’m proud of you, you know.” Flip says afterwards, clutching you to his chest. He’s got a cigarette lit and is smoking it to calm himself down, but he takes it out from between his lips for a little while to press kisses to the top of your head.

“What for?” You’re tired, orgasm lulling you into a post-glow sleep, which is probably for the best considering the clock is about to chime two.

“For hitting him. I saw the shiner you gave him.” He rubs a soothing hand up and down your arm, and you snuggle further against him with a little sigh.

“Are you going to get in trouble with work?” You whisper nervously, something that Flip hadn’t even thought about until just that moment.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. All that matters now is that you’re safe.” He dismisses that fear, and you just nod.

He thinks you’ve gone to sleep, and shuts his eyes against the dark too. He lets out a sigh of his own, pinches out the cigarette and tugs the covers up over your shoulder so you don’t get cold.

“Flip?” You mumble, voice small from being so tired.

“Yeah honey-bunny?” Flip whispers, hugging you to his chest.

“Thank you.” You whisper back, pressing a kiss to the strong pec you’re not using as a pillow, and he smiles, reassuring you now and always that he’d do:

“Anything for my girl.”

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

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

Taggin some friends! @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @mousemakingjam @materialisthicc @slut-for-harri @littleevilme13 @erys-targaryen @leillaa @hswritingrecs @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @miabelay11 

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman/reader #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman/you #flip zimmerman smut #flip zimmerman imagine #flip zimmerman fanfic #adam driver fanfic #adcu #my writing

[theotherace]

between korra and kuvira, who would you choose as worst character? and why?

In my opinion, the worst a character can be is boring. They can be horrible people, they can be selfish or cowardly or reckless (if it is acknowledged they are that), just as long as they're not fucking boring.

There's only a handful of characters in LoK I feel anything close to compelled by, and none of them were main characters, and most of them were painfully underutilized (Kai, Jinora) or treated like garbage by the narrative (Lin). And then there's Suyin, who doesn't really fit into either category, but was at least a little interesting, and the Red Lotus, all of whom I still don't really know how to feel about.

That all being said, I think the worst character in LoK is Asami, not Korra or Kuvira. Asami is the most toast character I've ever seen, I think. What is there to her? What is there to any of the Krew? Who are these people? Why were both Mako and Bolin's parents as well as Asami's mother killed by a firebender, only for that to then never matter or be followed up on? Mako evidently had to take up a similar role in Bolin's life that Katara felt she had to pick up after her mother's death, but that's never explored or given any time. We learn more about the Murder/Suicide brothers' childhood than we learn about all of the Krew's combined. We get a flashback to how Lin was scarred, but never to Mako and Bolin's time on the streets. Why is Bolin such a naive, happy-go-lucky idiot when his brother trusts no one? Because Mako shielded him from the harsher truths of life? How? Why was that never explored? I don't even have these questions about Asami, because there's just so little to her.

But, now that I've gone on that tangent, I will try to actually kind of answer your question. Between Korra and Kuvira, I would say Korra is worse, simply because there was so much more time to make her good. Kuvira had a season. Korra had four of them.

Obviously I'm annoyed by the turn Kuvira took in the end – Going from willing to kill the man who loved her more than anything to crying about her parents not loving her because Korra talked to her for two minutes? PLEASE. Show Ozai those baby pictures, why don't you? –, but at least she didn't annoy me too much before that. Her motivation was weird, but at least she's not quite as boring as Asami.

Korra, though? Oh, Korra had four whole seasons win me over, and yet she didn't manage. And she could've been great, that's what annoys me most. A deliberately sheltered Avatar exploring the world, wholly unprepared, naive and curious and cocky? Yes! But then she gets worse the longer the show goes on. And not more interesting. She has no respect for Tenzin or his culture. She destroys an ancient artifact and never really learns from that. She's an arrogant asshole, which I wouldn't have minded so much if the narrative at least treated her as one but it doesn't. There are either no consequenses for her or they're so insane they make me want to stop watching. (This isn't a character criticism, but one of the writers, by the way. It seemed they noticed people didn't like Korra, and proceeded to beat her down in the most brutal way they could think of. I have ... a problem with how this show handled violence.) There's charming ways to make a character arrogant (just look how many people love Toph, who is confident and absolutely cocky/arrogant at times). There's interesting ways to develop an asshole (Zuko!). They didn't do that, though. They did nothing. She learned nothing, and if she did, it didn't stick around for long. I should've realized that's how it was going to go when she fucking punched her way into airbending and then had no further trouble with. Korra is a worse character because she had so much more potential.

(But really, they all suck, lol.)

Thanks for the ask! And sorry it took me a sec, you might've seen that I was a bit caught up with this the last few days.)

#anti lok #greta watches lok #anti kuvira #anti korra #anti asami #anti fucking all of them #my asks #anti asami sato #i typed this on my phone on the taxi ride home #i usually spend that hour sleeping tho i guess this was a more productive use of my time lmao

[tobiosmilktea]

serpentine — kozume kenma

4.2k words | genre/s: fluff | warning/s: cursing | pairing: kenma x f!reader

↪︎ in which nekoma’s new manager captures their setter’s attention

a/n: this was requested by an anon but i accidentally deleted the ask 💀 this wasn’t proofread btw since i’m posting this hella late (atp none of my works are anymore lmao) anyway, the ending is uhh... not good

it takes up to ten seconds for your brain to realize it’s making a decision. you weren’t sure how it all happened considering it didn’t feel like it took ten seconds, and yet somehow, in some way, you agreed to the offer. it was no lingering doubt in your head that you could very well have answered due to the way the third-year manager (all ready to graduate in a few months notice) was looming over you. the look on their face drenched in optimism and a coaxing smile. you liked to think you were a generous person and you couldn’t have possibly said no.

"thank you so much, (y/l/n)!” your upperclassman exclaimed, eyes widening in a bright blithe as they held you at your shoulders and shaking you. “you totally saved my ass getting beat by coach nekomata! see you after school!”

that’s when it dawned at you. were you seriously going to become nekoma’s newest manager for the volleyball club when you had zero knowledge on the sport let alone know how to properly manage a team full of towering individuals? your jaw was basically on the floor as you attempted to plead something back to their current manager, yet nothing was coming out.

you’ve got to be kidding me.

you slumped back at your desk, face still in awe as you couldn’t help but almost felt betrayed by your own selfish mouth that spoke before you could even fathom the task. a sigh escaped you when lunch came to an end and lessons came back in session.

it was no lie that you didn’t really pay attention much in class in the first place. you had a tendency to space out and daydream from time to time with thoughts that serpentine from one idea to the next. however, at one point all you could ever think about was the inevitable doom of having to go to the gym in just a few hours time.

the feeling wasn’t enough to cause an onset sensation of suffocation from nerves, but it was just rather unpleasant knowing that these volleyball jocks would be part of your daily life now.

like a plucked flower petal, your body stood from your seat the moment the final bell rang through the echoing hallways. as if you were moving on autopilot, you hadn’t even noticed how fast you were treading through the hallways. perhaps your nerves were the fuel to your fire as you forced yourself to slow down and mingle into the lightly crowded corridors. perhaps you were glad that your classroom was on the other side of campus from the gymnasium.

you were taking your sweet time and surely they would understand if you were a little late right? granted, it was all too last minute and who knows if you had plans after school or not. spoiler: you didn’t, but that’s beside the point.

at one point, you’ve concluded that you were still walking too fast on your way to the gym despite going at a snail’s pace. it didn’t matter either way as your honey-coated eyes had fallen over the doors of the gym. the right door remained shut while the left was wide open, letting sounds of squeaking sneakers, bouncing white volleyballs, and shouts emitted from the building.

your pace came to a halt just a few feet shy of the door. your hand clutching at your bag’s strap as you waited for a few beats to pass. you weren’t sure what you were waiting for, yet standing there felt like a safer bet more than anything.

“oh there you are, (y/l/n)!” a voice called out to you in the midst of your personal speculation. this forced your attention up to them as you gave them a meek smile. “don’t be shy, come in! let me introduce you to the boys.”

they grabbed you by the wrist, tugging you inside the gym as you shook your head. “uhh, you really don’t have to. i can meet them all later, everyone seems busy right now.”

“don’t be silly!” they wave their hand off like it’s nothing. you follow them to the sidelines of the court, eyes scanning the gym out of instinct—you’ve heard about the many horror stories of those who stopped by and ended up being the target of an oncoming volleyball. a broken nose was definitely the last thing you wanted.

your head turned from watching the volleyball players do their drills as you stopped in front of two bickering individuals. the shorter one with copper brown hair points an accusatory finger at the boy in front of him, the tip of his finger barely reaching the top of the other’s shoulder as he ran a hand through his gray hair. “i swear to god lev, if i hear another word from you i will—”

nekoma’s manager clears their throat.

“oh shit—ha, hey mizuhara.” so that’s their name, you thought. the shorter one greets with a smile, expression all normal as if a complete stranger didn’t just witness him yelling at his teammate.

mizuhara only scoffs, “you’ve always been one for first impressions, yaku, which is why i brought our new manager here in the first place, but i suppose i came at the wrong time.”

“this is our new manager?” the taller one then cuts in, completely pushing away yaku as if his shorter stature weighed like nothing. there was a swift kick in his step as he approached you closer, sticking his hand out for you to shake. man, was this guy tall. “i’m haiba lev, it’s nice to meet you!”

you shook his hand, nodding, “(y/l/n) (y/n).” you introduced before turning towards the poor volleyball player that was pushed out the way.

“yaku morisuke,” he answers without missing a single beat, “i’m nekoma’s libero—”

“that’s why he’s short!” lev interjects and yaku gives him a poisonous look.

you bite back a smile as the libero continues, “don’t be fooled by the height, though, i’m most likely older than you anyway and you look like the type to actually respect your senpais, unlike this guy.” yaku pokes lev.

“are you a third-year?” you ask curiously to which he nods.

“he thinks he can boss me around just because i’m only a first year, but the only one who can give me orders around here is coach and kuroo.” says lev with a smirk that radiated provocation. this seems to be a normal thing between the two of them.

“speaking of which,” mizahara chimed in, head turning towards the courts as your irises scanned for a specific person. “where’s kuroo? i obviously have to introduce our new manager to the team captain.”

“i think he’s still in the locker room talking with the coaches. i’ll go get him,” yaku muttered over his shoulder before walking away.

silence then ensued the trio like a wet blanket, nothing but the lingering sounds of volleyballs thudding against the glazed wooden floors and squealing rubber. everyone in the gym didn’t seem to be too phased by your presence and if they were, they were probably just too preoccupied with their own practice to even spare a single glance.

“so...” lev starts, teetering his weight back and forth as you look up at him. “you’re a second year, right?” you nod, words not wanting to come out. “cool. do you have a boyfriend—or a girlfriend, if that’s what you’re into. i don’t judge!” he laughs then, somehow easing your unease.

“stop asking such personal questions, lev.” a voice calls out from behind him, treading lightly towards you.

the first year shrugs innocently, “i was just curious, cap.”

“yeah, yeah,” kuroo waves him off, “go practice before i double your drills.”

lev nods, “yessir.” before dipping away.

kuroo then gives you a welcoming smile, one that feels quite genuine as his coaches appear behind him. “i’m guessing you’re our new manager in training, right? i’m kuroo if you don’t already know, it’s nice to meet you.”

you introduced yourself yet again, repeating the gesture to coach nakomata and coach naoi. they both radiated a calming, yet serious energy that you weren’t sure to be intimidated by. yet at some point, you shouldn’t even be thinking of such thing considering you would working with them for the rest of the school year and the year after that.

“here, i’ll call the rest of the team over to meet you.” kuroo suggests, his arm already waving everybody down before you could retaliate. “gather ‘round, we have someone you guys have to meet!”

his shout was accompanied by coach nekomata’s shrieking whistle, capturing the attention of the rest of the volleyball team as the sounds of hands impacting the white leather came to a halt.

perhaps that forgotten tingling of nerves had hit you right in the chest like a train the moment all their eyes fell on you. this was not it.

“a girl!” one of them exclaims, hair styled in a strange curly mohawk that charged his way towards you.

“jesus, take it easy yamamoto.” one with a darker complexion and buzzcut says, throwing you a pitiful smile as if to say ‘i’m sorry.’

“sorry, kai...”

you held back a bit of laughter behind your hand.

“everyone, this is (y/l/n) (y/n), she’ll be our team’s new manager.” coach naoi motions towards you, bag strap still clutched within your hands that your knuckles were turning alabaster. “please take care of her well.”

as kuroo opened his mouth to speak, the same one who shouted earlier—yamamoto, you think—cuts in again and says, “are you dating anyone?”

lev laughs from the back of the group, “i already asked her that!”

“but i still want to know!”

“please be respectful or i’m stealing your kneecaps while you sleep.” mizuhara deadpans before motioning for kuroo to speak.

the obsidian-haired captain rolled his eyes in amusement as he began introducing each member of the team one by one, “i don’t want you guys bombarding (y/n), so i’ll introduce you guys myself.” cue yamamoto groaning in disappointment, “the one that keeps asking you such personal questions is yamamoto, our wing spiker.” to which the same man salutes you and gives you a wink. “then there’s kai nobuyuki, our vice-captain. teshiro tamahiko, our pinch server. fukunaga shohei, our other wing spiker. lev and yaku, which you’ve already met. and kozume kenma, our setter.”

your eyes had landed on each and every one of them before abruptly stopping on the last one called. you knew of kenma and his familiar yellow-blond hair. granted, you were in the same year, but he was in a different class and just didn’t really have any interactions besides that one time you two had cleaning duty last year and had to take out the trash together.

the last time you remember him, he was quiet and didn’t speak much, yet there was always a charm within him that had you drawn to him from the start. it was a shame you two never really had a chance to get close.

you wonder if he still remembers you.

meanwhile, the moment your gaze landed upon him, kenma couldn’t help but choke back the rising lump forming in his throat. he surely never thought you two would meet again like this.

the last time he remembers you, you had quite the allure within the way you spoke so nicely. he recalls the way you two first met last year where he offered to take out your trash bag so you wouldn’t have to do work, but you utterly refused. your kind actions stuck with him and despite not being one to talk much in the first place, he couldn’t bring himself to ever speak knowing your lasting presence overran his nerves like a high wire.

kenma’s thoughts are interrupted by a pat on his shoulder, heavy and weighted. his looks over to kuroo’s giving him a sly side-eye as a smirk melted upon his best friend’s visage. 

“everyone, go back to practice,” kuroo commands, “mizuhara will take care of the rest.”

a chorus of discernable groans and ‘yessirs’ erupted in the gym as the hoard of volleyball players turned their backs towards you. everything seemed to be back to normal the way the echoing sounds of a run-of-the-mill practice was back in session. and despite the attention no longer being on you (thank goodness), there was still an inkling in your chest of someone’s eyes lingering as you looked back to mizuhara.

“that’s the girl, isn’t it?” whispers kuroo to kenma, practically scaring him out of his unbeknownst trance that was stuck on you.

the setter didn’t answer right away as he twirled the volleyball in his hand, eyes searching the bronze floorboards below him to find an answer he knew he couldn’t find. “it is,” he sighs.

kenma didn’t like lying, anyway.

you weren’t sure how it really happened. you supposed it was just mere fate or purely the universe throwing you a bone that within two weeks of being nekoma’s newest manager, that you would somehow, someway, found yourself glued to kenma’s side for the majority of the day.

it first started off like this: normal. nothing much had changed to your daily school life besides the fact that you stay after school every day for volleyball practice now, but that’s was beside the point. It continued on like this for a few days, until your scanning gaze over the practicing volleyball players almost always ended up stopping on kenma.

it didn’t matter what he was doing at the time whether he was sweating his ass off playing a practice game or simply staying on the sidelines, body hunched over with his dyed hair falling over his face as he played his video game.

unbeknownst to you, though, your stares were everything but discrete. kenma had always been quite skilled at hiding his emotions and looking nonchalant as possible. either that or he just had no filter whatsoever—there was no in between. 

at first, the attention would always send his heart spiraling out of control. you were always on the other side of the gym when this happens, and he’s glad for that fact considering you couldn’t have seen the way his hands shivered slightly at the way you looked at him.

don’t even get him started on the way his usual patience ran lower and lower the more his teammates flirted with you. from yamamoto’s blatant disregard of your crystal clear unease to lev’s constant presence around you, had affected kenma more than he had hoped.

god, he hated feeling this way, and yet it was addicting that why you still looked at him regardless.

perhaps it was the only reason why he started reciprocating your sly glances to vie for your attention—granted, he already had it.

the subtle linking of your gazes eventually turned into smiles across the court to kenma finally getting the courage to walk up to you after practice. the sky was dim, shrouded by the last few sunrays of the setting sun as he offered to stay behind to help clean up. usually, he would be one of the first ones to leave the gym with kuroo by his side to walk home, but it didn’t take much for his best friend to know what he was up to.

you were folding up one of the volleyball nets at one end to which the setter reached for the other. he folded along the lines, eventually meeting you halfway to which you could say that’s where it all started.

the blossoming of a new friendship.

something about the way you two complimented each other so much, that the moment you two even started talking, it felt like two old friends reuniting. you felt at home with kenma and he liked being by your side.

you supposed that sensation of familiarity you found in kenma led to your days of shy glances to each other turned into eating lunch together to even walking side by side to practice. you both had a knack for being seen with each other to often, that people started to suspect things. from your classmates to the rest of nekoma’s volleyball team did they tread lightly around the subject. it wasn’t like it was any of their business anyway, but good gossip is always entertaining.

“can you please help me beat this level, kenma?”

“absolutely not,” the setter deadpanned, flicking you a tired look as you two neared the opposing school’s gym.

poor kuroo was third-wheeling a few feet behind you.

the night prior, you and kenma stayed up until the sunlight’s orange hues teased away the shadow of the moon, the quiet night in suburban tokyo was filled with your laughter through your gaming headsets. you two stayed up all night playing video games or simply just talking the night away, bridging over the same gap that had already been filled. surely, it was a terrible idea considering kenma literally had a game the next day, but his only excuse was hanging out with you was much better than wallowing in nervous thoughts, so he digresses.

“why not?” you gasp with offense written over your face as clear as day.

kenma shrugs, “maybe after we win this game, i’ll help you beat it.”

you hum in response, tucking your phone back into your windbreaker as you felt the rush of air-conditioned cold air breeze through your hair. approaching the benches, you quickly greet the opposing team’s manager and coach before situating yourself back to nekoma’s side of the court. mizuhara was already in the process of taking out the empty water bottles and placing them into holders to fill them up.

“i’ll help with that,” you offer as you had already picked up a bottle, but mizuhara waved you away with a smile.

“no, no, i’ll take care of this. you can start telling the boys to get changed and have them gather around coach nekomata.” they say, feet already trailing out towards the water fountains as you nod.

your hand scratched the nape of your neck as you turned towards the boys, mouth opening to speak and yet they seemed to already be one step ahead of you. their red tracksuits were already off and stuffed into the deep ends of their duffle bags—it was obvious with the way their bags bulged from the crammed clothing items.

a sigh leaves your lips, shrugging to yourself as it seemed like there wasn’t much to do when the majority of the things were sorted out already. sitting atop the courtside bench, you pulled your phone out of your pocket, typing in your password as you immediately opened up your game. the real game wasn’t going to be starting for the next ten minutes anyway, surely there was enough time to attempt to beat a level within that time span.

your hands gripped the sides of your phone with eyes focused to each detail the flashing graphics shined upon your face. you were so caught up within your own little world, that the ambient sounds of talking murmurs and approaching footsteps bled together.

kenma clears his throat before dropping onto the bench next to you. he peered over to your screen for a second, almost laughing at how much he had rubbed off on you. he feigned himself from scoffing at the way you hadn’t even acknowledged him, but he couldn’t you. it was technically his fault for introducing you to this game. besides, you looked so adorable with the way you would bite your lip whenever you were at the verge of dying.

you groaned, dropping your arms in defeat as you pouted towards him, “i died again.”

“i can see that,” he amused. rolling your eyes at the look he gave you, you rested your elbows upon your thighs again as you reset the level. however, before you resume on playing, the setter swiftly snatched your phone out of your hand.

for once he had to help you with this one.

“watch and learn, (y/n).”

you huffed at his cockiness, resting your chin upon kenma’s shoulder.

usually, he would find himself tensing at your contact, but lately, he’s been treasuring these little moments with you. kuroo would often catch himself off guard whenever he finds kenma cozying up to you like a kitten. this was definitely not something he would usually do unless of course, it’s for someone he is absolutely in love with. it was obvious the way kenma tried so hard to hide his feelings, yet still failing despite the nonchalant exterior. 

if only you two just confessed to each other already, this would’ve been easier on literally everyone here.

kenma seemed pretty confident—so incredibly sure that he would beat this level for you that you couldn’t help but find it the tiniest bit attractive... okay maybe a lot. from the way his fingers intricately worked at the game as if it was second nature. you wondered how in the hell he plays so well, but the hours he puts into gaming was no surprise. within minutes, he had already beat the level.

“holy shit!” you exclaimed in excitement as you pulled yourself off of him, grabbing your phone to look at the ‘VICTORY!’ screen just to make sure it was legit.

the setter couldn’t help but feel the ends of his lips tug into a small smile as he admired the glow in your eyes. he liked it when you looked like this—grinning as if you were an absolute maniac with sugarcoated teeth of saccharine.

you beamed at him, “you’re amazing.”

there is was again, his rapid beating heart causing an avalanche between kenma’s lungs. he couldn’t get used to the way you make him feel. it still felt like the same rising warmth that hugged him like a bear whenever you would praise him or let out a slick laugh. he really liked your laugh. he discovered that about himself the first time he made you giggle over your first discord call together. it sounded like a forgotten epiphany finally finding itself back to him that he wanting to make you laugh again and again. even though the low-quality grain of the microphone, it was enough to ease his yearning to just hold you within his arms.

hearing you laugh over a call was one thing, but it hit differently in real life.

“yeah, right,” kenma scoffs, almost unconvinced. he leans over a bit more, his shoulder touching yours as he tapped a few buttons on your screen. his expression was almost unfazed as you continued staring at him. “you don’t mean that.”

kenma looks back up at you. his lips purse together, forcing the lump forming in his throat when he noticed how close your faces were. his eyes flickered over your features, memorizing them as if this was his last time ever seeing your face. for a brief moment, you felt your heart stop again and again. it punched against your ribcage with such brutal force, you swore kenma could’ve heard it. 

you chuckled nervously, taking a deep breath as the words spilled out of your mouth. “i don’t lie to people i have feelings for.”

it ended up being softer than you thought it was. you supposed it was the way you were so careful to approach kenma’s lips, slowly and gently, just in case he wanted to pull away. in fact, you did expect him to pull away no matter embarrassing it may have been. there was such a pouring downfall within you that maybe you were okay with that possibility of him rejecting your kiss if it meant that there was a chance he might return it.

his lips were like velvet when he kissed you softly. even if it was a brief moment of vulnerability, you were both aware of how inappropriate it was to kiss not only your closest friend, but a member of your team just minutes before a game.

you pulled away then, hands slapping over your cheeks to hide the crimson red blush that suspended itself all the way up to your ears. kenma looked just the same, but he simply looked away.

you prayed that the rest of the guys did see—but they did.

kuroo saw it first, having to do a double-take the moment you pulled away from kenma. honestly, no one would’ve noticed if yamamoto’s loud ass shout didn’t echo throughout the gymnasium. as if your sudden humiliation moved like a domino-effect, jumping from one person to another.

you pushed yourself off the bench, hoping your hair would cover your tomato-colored face as you excused yourself to the bathroom.

right as your figure left the gym, the boys immediately ran towards kenma, still in a dazed state. the poor setter’s lips still buzzed from the kiss no matter how short it was. it still sent flickers of electricity through him as kai shook his shoulder.

“since when were you and (y/n) a thing?” he questioned quite loudly.

he acted as if kenma even knew the answer to that. if anything, he was just glad that he was saved by the buzzer as the game was to start. he let out a sigh as he scanned all of his teammate’s expressions, pushing himself off the bench. “don’t look at me like that.”

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #kenma scenarios #kenma imagines #kenma oneshot #kenma fluff #hq kenma

[yeojaa]

ANGELS & AIRWAVES (w. jjk)

He's never met you but you know how he sounds when he wakes up from a nap and his greatest fears.  You know the way he sings after a shower and that he could be mistaken for a dying seal when he's laughing too hard.  The best part?  You don't judge him for any of it - including the fact he's a filthy Widow main.  He might just love you.

alt summary.  Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met.

pairing.  jeon jungkook

genre + rating.  fluffy crack. general, for now.

warning / tags.  long-distance relationship, crushes, canon compliant (ish),  eventual happy ending, gaming, gamer!jungkook, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, overwatch.  tags are hard.  :( 

reading.   n/a.  a three part one-shot.

word count.  ~3400

part i.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Sunday, 10 November, 2019.  2:13 AM.

It’s 2:13 AM when Jeon Jungkook finally finds a match, the familiar in-game sound dragging his attention away from the illuminated screen of his iPhone to the monitor before him.  He studies the SR - 3779 and 3761, respectively - and skims burning eyes across the members on each team.  Four rocks, including himself, and two Masters.

One of them has a strange name - BIGMELON - that he stares at until he's zoning out, trying to make sense of it.  Was his teammate a pervert or just hilarious?

"Good luck and have fun, everyone!"  

Your cheer filters through his headphones crystal clear but he's somehow still surprised, head tilting curiously to the side.  He hadn't expected a girl to be playing Overwatch at quarter past two in the morning.

When there's no response - he notices no one else is in the voice chat, an oddity for such a high ranking game - he takes it upon himself to keep you company.  His username lights up as his finger glides across the ALT key, sleep-worn words breaking the silence.

"Thanks, you too."

Nothing follows until BIGMELON appears once again in the upper left-hand corner of his screen.  You have a nice voice, he thinks.  "Are you sticking with Widow?"

Jungkook takes in the team comp:  Sigma, Hog, Genji, and Lucio.  A little unconventional but not wholly un-doable.  They're on King's Row, too, which is one of his favourite maps.  Balanced enough that people aren't too salty when they get headshot but with enough coverage that he can get clear picks.  

"Should I?"

"If you want."  A pause and your hero slot is filled with Mercy's portrait.  "I can damage boost."

He thinks he can hear the teasing.  It's soft and sweet and a little rough - like you'd just woken up.  

"Who says I need it?"  Comes his immediate response, question chased out of his mouth by a laugh he can't help.  It echoes, filling the quiet of his bedroom.  He hopes you don't take it the wrong way.

"O—kay, Widow main.  We'll see if you get anything from me."

It's an empty threat because you're giggling along with him.  It's distracting in the strangest way.  The sound bounces around in his ears and he can't help but focus on it, realizing belatedly that he's still sitting in spawn as the timer runs down for setting up defence.  

"Are you going to join us?"  You quip, emoting right beside his stationary sniper.  "I didn't queue just to have someone go AFK."  

Mischief colours your words and he laughs again, snorting as he finally presses W.  Two sets of footsteps echo in game and he presses SHIFT once he's hit point - and with just a few seconds left to spare - launching Widowmaker's body onto the balcony overwatching it.  Mercy follows, Guardian Angel carrying her into the air to alight behind the blue-skinned hero.  

As the timer hits 0:01, Jungkook right-clicks, scoping in on the second-floor spawn door.

BOOM.

The kill feed reads DDEOKKOOKI x STRIKER007.

"I guess you didn't need the damage boost."  

He can't help the sound he makes - a marriage between a witch's shriek and a pig's snort.  It leaps out of his mouth, louder than he intends, and he feels equally bad for you and his hyungs.  He's definitely going to get an earful in the morning - or any minute now, when one of them bursts into his room to berate him for being so loud.  "I told you."

"Yeah, yeah."  The way you speak has him grinning from ear to ear, nose scrunching in amusement.  Mercy is flying across the map, healing stream trained on Genji as the cyborg ninja just narrowly misses an errant Hanzo arrow and dashes back to point.  "I'm gonna take care of the rest of our team.  Let me know if you need anything, O' Headshot God."

You're clowning him hard but he knows it's all in good fun.  Still, he likes the nickname and decides to keep it, effectively picking off the attacking team's stealthily half-hidden Junkrat and Ana right after. 

"Show-off!"   

Then he's dinked in the head - health dropping to 30 from the partially-charged shot.  He needs heals like yesterday.

Unfortunately, Lucio is up at choke with the tanks, skating circles around the base of the statue as they hold point.  Jungkook doesn't see you immediately - he’s scanning his screen for your witch skin (of course) - only realizing you've appeared at his side when his health bar begins to climb.  "Try to stay alive, yeah?"

"My bad,"  he drawls, scoping in the same instant the kill feed announces two more enemy deaths. 

There are only a critical Reinhardt and protected Zarya left.  The former falls the moment he drops shield and her bubble doesn't reset in time;  the Russian tank dies in the next instant, his charged shot firing the moment it hits 100%.  

"Thanks for the damage boost."

"Any time."

Then you're gone, off to support the rest of your team again while he grapples onto a different ledge and continues his oppressive gameplay.  He feels a little bad when the opposing team goes double shield tank and swaps their Junkrat for a Pharah.  He feels less so when he's slept out of nowhere. Four seconds feels like an eternity when he’s out in the open - vulnerable as a baby lamb in a den of lions.

"Looks like you're really making them mad."  You'd been relatively quiet when not tending to him - likely because it was only the two of you in voice chat - and he startles when your comment breaks the quiet lofi he has going in the background. 

"I don't know why.  I'm just having fun."  He's lying.  You're laughing.  

"Too much fun, I think."  

"Maybe they should be better."  Jungkook says this like he's commenting on the weather or the colour of the sky - offhand and nonchalant.  It makes your giggles come harder.  He can hear the scratch of your mic as if you've doubled over and it's now pressed into cotton clothing.  He can't help but pat himself on the back.

"Please don't tell me you're going to 'gg ez' them when we're done."

Now he's feigned offense, gasping at the mere thought.  "Of course not.  I'm not that rude!"

"Well, you never know."  You're right.  People could be the worst when it came to online gaming, spewing vitriol and hurling insults the moment their egos were bruised (or inflated). 

"I promise I'm not an asshole."  He's not really sure why he feels the need to make this abundantly clear.  After all, he'd probably never play with you again.  Korea's density of players was just too great - you were just one in hundreds, thousands, millions. 

Still, he smiles when you reassure him you don't think he is.  "I'm just teasing.  You seem nice."

"I am nice."  Spoken in the same instance he lands two consecutive headshots - one on the bouncing, wall-riding enemy Lucio and the other on the momentarily grounded Pharah.  You must see that, because you're mocking him in that dulcet tone of yours, caramel coating words and turning them soft like toffee. 

"Not according to them."  And not that you mind, it seems, because you're damage boosting him as he catches their out-of-position Rein in his sight.  He whoops in triumph, eliciting another bemused sound from you. 

"You know they're going to do everything to counter you when we go on attack."  Which was in sub-one minute, the timer counting down the last thirty seconds of your team's defense. 

"Who says I'm going Widow again?"  

You're scandalized.  "You mean you're not just a filthy Widow main?"

For a moment, Jungkook wonders if this is how his older members feel when he (and Jimin and Taehyung) mercilessly rib them.  He thinks it must be and oh, how the tables have turned.  He decides he doesn't really mind, though.  It's all innocent fun and it's keeping him awake, aided by the cold brew he'd chugged at midnight. 

"Woah - says the Mercy player?"

"Mercy is a respectable support, okay!"

"Sure, e-girl."  

"Take that back!"  How the words explode out of his headphones makes him momentarily worry he might've overstepped but by the way your laughter chases it forward, he knows he hasn't.  You can take it just as well as you can dish it.  

"Okay, okay.  You're a not bad healer."  Because he hasn't died yet and last he checked, neither had your tanks.  Genji had once or twice - to be expected, given his playstyle - and you had, but that was still pretty respectable.

He can practically hear you rolling your eyes.  "Oh, thanks."  

"Any time, BigMelon."  

"That's ‘daebak’ to you, pal."  Had he heard you wrong?

"What'd you say?"  

There's a long pause - he's not sure whether it's for comedic purpose or something else.  You sound muffled on the other end, as if you're repressing sound.  "Because watermelon?  Su-bak?  So big melon is dae-bak?"  Whatever you had stifled earlier disappears, torn away by the pride that shines bright yellow and boisterous in your peals of laughter.

It's such a bad joke that Jungkook feels like he's about to have an aneurysm.  Were you Jin moonlighting as a Master support player? 

"You're kidding me."  He wonders if you hear him above your own glee, giggles making it hard for him to hear himself think.  "What're you - a dad?"

You scoff now, parroting his words back to him.  "What're you - the pun police?"  

Another one?

He briefly considers ALT + F4-ing his way out of this match and away from your corniness.  Considers it but ultimately decides against it, instead remaining stoically silent and choosing McCree when the hero selection screen slides into place.  His silence will surely speak volumes.  

"You know that was funny!"  By the way he can practically hear your pout - it's endearing, much to his chagrin - he thinks you know where he stands.  

"Not the word I'd use."

"You just have bad taste, McCree."  You say it scathingly yet full of mirth, a sniff punctuating the end of your rebuttal. 

"Do not!"  He returns, just as quickly.  

"Prove it.  Laugh at my joke!"  You're shameless, confident, reassured - it makes him chuckle.  

You take it as his surrender though, your own laughter blending seamlessly with his.  It goes on for longer than is strictly speaking necessary, crowding like cotton balls in his ears as you leave sprays of your hero - Ana this time - across the spawn walls.  He wrecks every one of yours with his own, BAMF displayed in 1440p. 

"Hey - stop that!"  It doesn't matter that the round is about to start - you're spamming your melee button into him.  He immediately does it back, toggling between that and his voice line. 

The rest of your team is probably wondering what the hell you're both doing.  

"Stop distracting me!"  He barks into his mic, deep dimples on full display, nose scrunched adorably.  He doesn't really mind - it's clear by his hyena cackles that follow - and he likes when your chorus of shut up's pitch and leap with your giggling. 

As he navigates McCree out behind your tanks, he can't help but wish - maybe a little selfishly - that they'll lose this round and go into a best of three.  When the opposing team's healers both die - one to Ashe's dynamite and the other to Zarya's high-charged beam - he knows that's not going to happen.  Your team's going to cap point and then you're going to be gone - off to the next game and never to be matched with again.

"We did it, McCree."  You sound deeply pleased as the last of the defenders fall, leaving point uncontested.  The Lucio on your team lingers by the choke, ready to boop any last minute hoodlums;  Echo hovers just above the enemy’s spawn, dealing damage the moment any hero comes in view.  One of your tanks is already emoting.

VICTORY flashes across his screen.  

"We sure did, BigMelon."

The cards come next - they're all for your team, though he isn't surprised.  You'd gotten 37 defensive assists whereas he had 27% Infra-Sight uptime.  He's sure you both vote for each other, the remaining four going to your other support's Sound Barrier casts.  

"Thanks for the carry."  He doesn't mean it facetiously.  This is some of the most fun he's had in-game in ages.

"You're welcome,"  you chirp.  He thinks you'll leave right after.

Instead, you both sit in voice chat in silence, watching the timer in the upper right-hand corner. 

"Do you want to duo?"  You ask in the same instance he does, breaking the both of you into a fit of laughter.  It's more distracting than he realizes, the FINDING MATCH countdown replacing the end game statistics while you’re both still cackling.

Luckily, you invite him to a group right as he removes himself from queue.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Tuesday, 24 December, 2019.  11 PM.

It’s six weeks and a good three dozen games later - a feat for him, considering how much of his time is eaten up by literally every other obligation he has - when he asks for your name, not realizing the consequences of his action.  

“Most people call me Jinny.”  He thinks it fits you, bright and pretty and punchy.  “What’s your name?”

Jungkook's unprepared for the question, though he shouldn’t be.  Of course you’d want to know.  Anyone would, if they’d already given their own answer.

He's silent for the longest time, quiet stretching on and on over group voice chat.  He applauds you for your patience, how you don't press him on it when the hesitation has descended from appropriate to downright awkward.

"Uh."  The word drops like a weight, crashing through the tentative friendship you've built over the past weeks.  

"You don't have to tell me,"  you supply as softly as he's ever heard you.  It's the first time you've seemed uncertain - and it bothers him that he's the reason.  "I get that we haven't known each other that long."  

As if that's actually the issue.  He would've told you the night you spent four hours together, taking wins left and right, filling the time in between matches with silly banter that had his jaw aching from laughter.  He would’ve told you on that random Thursday, when you’d listened to him talk about his busy day, effortlessly keeping him occupied - and amused - while your SR nearly descended below 3500.  He would’ve even told you yesterday, when you’d said you were going to bed, only to be roped into another six games by Jungkook’s eagerness.

It has absolutely nothing to do with time - or the lack thereof.

But he can't say that - can't tell you who he really is - so he improvises as best he can.  "My friends call me Jay."

"Jay, huh?"  You turn the sound over on your tongue, like you're tasting it for the first time, trying to decide whether you love it or hate it.  He hopes you don’t hate it.  "Then I guess we're the best J-duo to ever exist."

"Woah, we?"  He's only doing it to rile you up, finding it cute when you huff and puff and threaten to let him die in-game.  You never make good on the threat anyway;  you just like to see him sweat, watching as his health bar drops to measly single digits.  "I don't think I agreed to that."  

It's your turn to mock him, that same edge turning your words into sour candy.  "Fine.  You can find yourself a new healer.  We'll see how your SR likes that, Bronzie boy!"  

Neither of you really take the game that seriously but he gasps like he's been shot.  

"No!  Don't leave me with them!"  The way he howls the plea is enough to return you both to your rightful place - one filled with boisterous laughter and things he never thought would see the light of day.

Because somehow, he's found somewhere he feels safe - a place he feels like himself, with no pretenses or expectations.  It’s where he can rant and rave, bouncing from topic to topic like an energizer bunny with no end in sight.  It’s, oddly enough, with you.  

Connected through voice chat and built by an endless stream of communication - sometimes productive, other times not - the space you’ve carved out together has come to feel like a third home.  It isn’t quite what he has with his family or his members but it’s just as nice.

Different, but nice.

"Fine.  You're forgiven."  You sniff in that peculiar way of yours and he snickers loudly.  "How was your day?"

And this is why it is - because it's ordinary.  It’s where Jungkook can rest his head and drift for a while without worry of what’s over the horizon, ready to swallow him whole the moment he takes his eyes off the calm blue sea.  He's not raised on a pedestal with you, all the weight of his choices resting on his shoulders.  He's just a normal guy playing games.  

It might not make up for all the years of normalcy he's missed out on - the movies after school, the street markets on weekends, the holiday parties with classmates - but it's enough.  

He eats it up like he's been starved of it.

"Busy.  Really busy.  I had dance practice all afternoon and forgot to eat so I'm dying now."  There'd been a time - about three weeks in - when he'd chosen his words more carefully.  He'd been worried he might let something slip but he's found what feels like the sweet spot now, where he can tell you about his day without thinking he’ll suddenly shatter the image you have of him.

It's not always easy - he has to remember to never mention names or intimate details - but it's better than nothing.  He can finally tell someone about his day like he wants - all of the good and the bad, too.

"You should make something to eat!"

He's used to your reprimands but he still laughs, crossing his long legs beneath him as he readjusts in his computer chair.  "But we're in queue."

"Jay!"  It comes out devoid of static, clear as the waning sunshine that filters through his blinds and reflects particles of dust that drift lazily through his bedroom.

"I'll make something after we win."  He knows what you're thinking - that he's gone and jinxed your whole night.  You’re weirdly superstitious, something he's learned only recently.

As if right on cue:  "Shut up!"  

Your words sweep his expression up with glee and giddiness, like a kid on Christmas morning;  lines dig themselves into the bridge of his nose and the delicate skin beneath his eyes.  Jungkook tells himself it’s the usual pre-game jitters but he knows it’s more than that.  

It’s you and that infectious giggle that careens through his headphones, making him see everything in a pretty haze of warmth.

He’s not sure when you’d started having this particular effect on him - maybe since the beginning? - but he feels it now, clearer than ever.  Every tinkling laugh makes his heart speed up, thump around his chest like a baseball missing its mark.  The sight of you logging in elicits the biggest, possibly dorkiest smile, all slightly too-big front teeth and deep dimples.  You have him rushing through his post-practice showers and devouring dinner in half the time he usually would just to get online a minute more quickly.  

There's just something about you. 

And sure - a part of him wonders whether it's all in his head (as if it could be anywhere else).  Wonders if he's seeing you through rose-tinted glasses, doing to you what so many do to him.  Was he in over his head, praying to a deity that didn't even know he existed?  

Sometimes it felt that way - a little out of reach, like childhood crushes and summer love and wishing upon a star.  Certainly far too much for a blossoming friendship of just a month and a half.  

But then you laugh and it's Pop Rocks fizzling in his stomach and he knows that no - it's there and it's real.

Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met. 

notes.  i love overwatch and i love jeon jeongguk.  what more can i say?  :)

#heartsforbts #ficswithluv #goldenclosetnet #bts #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fluff #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #work.zip #a&a.doc #jungkook.doc

[elizabeethan]

Steal Away: 2 / 5

When a bank robbery with his brother goes horribly wrong, Killian Jones learns to heal with the help of a fiery blonde who happened to get caught in the crosshairs.

A Modern AU

Based loosely on the movie Hell Or High Water (and so I tag @captainswanmoviemarathon)

Read on Ao3

Read The Rest

Read my Other Stuff

A/N: So this was supposed to be a one shot, but it’s, like, 24k words so I thought it would be best to split it up. I’m probably going to post one part a night for the next week or so, though.

This part is rated T as well, mostly for language and car sickness :) (I’ll let you know when we get to M hehehe)

thank you as usual to @the-darkdragonfly​, @donteattheappleshook​ and @xhookswenchx for letting me ramble about this for weeks, and to Kay for beta-ing <3

~~~~ 

It happens quickly. 

 Her sense of humor, her taste in music, the adorable way she snorts when he hits a pothole while she’s sleeping… it’s impossible for him to avoid the feelings that stir in him. It’s almost embarrassing, the speed at which he begins to recognize his feelings, but it’s not as if he plans on sharing them at any point. 

 The fact is… he likes her. She’s cute, and funny, and undeniably sexy, and he knows that if she wasn’t here, he probably wouldn’t be either. He would’ve been arrested right off the bat, or shot in the bank himself, or drowning in a bottle of rum beside his brother’s grave. If it wasn’t for Emma Swan and her insistence to stay in his life, he wouldn’t be on his way to Maine to pick up the only remaining person in his life who means something.  

 Although, perhaps that isn’t true, because after a day on the road, he’s discovered that she’s starting to mean something, too. 

 He doesn’t know enough about her to dignify a crush, but he also isn’t stupid. He knows that he’s infatuated with her. He knows that he’s finding it hard to keep his gaze off of her. He knows that her stunning green eyes play off of the gold of her skin and her hair in such a way that makes his heart race. He knows that, based solely on what she’s told him so far, he’s desperate to know more. 

 She doesn't have a family. She spent much of her childhood homeless and running away from abusive foster placements. She was abandoned as an infant, left in the woods at only a few hours old. She’s been through hell and back, and she still manages a blinding smile.

 Her ex boyfriend is the reason she’s here with him, he thinks. She says that he screwed her over and that she wants nothing more than to get away from him and from the place that reminds her of him, and Killian thinks this all happened at a rather convenient time for her. She told him yesterday, when he was panicking over his brother’s demise, that she could tell that he was there in that bank for a good reason, and he’s taken to assuming that she has a good reason to assume that. 

 They hardly know each other, and yet he feels as though he’s known her his whole life. He knows so little about her, and yet, he can read her like she’s an open book. The term kindred spirits feels naive, and yet, that’s exactly what they are. 

 “Are we gonna stop in Chicago?” she asks excitedly as she watches the Welcome to Illinois sign pass them by. 

 “Definitely not,” he laughs. “It’s far too north for where we’re headed.” 

 “What, and Maine isn’t?” she snorts, shaking her head and pointing out a bird that flies by. “What’s up there, anyway?” 

Immediately, his heart starts racing and his palms start sweating at the thought of telling her the true reason for their trip. It dawns on him that, when they arrive, he would have to tell her anyway, lest he abandon her in town before he arrives at the lawyer’s office. 

 Of course, Emma has experienced her fair share of abandonment at this point in her life, and while he hardly knows her and shouldn’t care, he wouldn’t dare contribute to the trauma that comes with the feeling of being left behind and forgotten. 

 Bloody hell. 

 “You don’t have to tell me,” she says after a long moment of silence. 

 He clears his throat, drawing his focus back to the highway before him. “It’s alright, love. I just… it’s a sore subject, I suppose.” 

 “We share a lot of those,” she jokes, smirking at him and making his heart race. More gently, she reasons, “which means you should know by now that I won’t judge you.” 

 “Aye,” he agrees immediately, because he does know that. “Aye, you’re right. It’s, um… my child.” 

 He catches her balking, her jaw dropping and then snapping shut in quick succession before he needs to focus back on the road. “You have a kid?” 

 With a nod, his grip on the steering wheel tightens. This vehicle is better than the last, the clutch not sticking like the one in the truck had, but it’s so small and cramped that he doubts they’ll be able to sleep comfortably in these seats tonight. He’d best pull over soon so that they can find a place to sleep. “I do,” he confirms. “A daughter. She’s eight.” 

 “How old are you?” she asks in shock. 

 He narrows his eyes, shifting his gaze to her briefly and suspiciously asking, “how old are you?”

 “I asked you first,” she says seriously, as if she truly doesn't want to disclose her age, and he begins to panic. She looks old enough, but the potential that he’s just kidnapped a minor on top of everything else begins to assault his thoughts. 

 “Please just tell me I didn’t kidnap you,” he begs, his heart racing. 

 “No,” she rolls her eyes. “I’m 23, and much more mature than you.” 

 With a sound that’s somewhere between a snort and a sigh of relief, he nods. “Aye, love. I’m sure you are.”

 She sits in silence, staring at him expectantly, and he knows that it drives her mad when he smirks and begins to laugh. “Don’t be stupid! Just tell me how old you are!” 

 “I’m… I’m 31.”

 “Oh,” she says, chuckling beside him. “So you’re not that much of a cradle robber. Just a regular old bank robber.” 

 “Oy!” he shouts in offense, staring at her in shock. “Sensitive subject. And what makes you think I’m trying to rob your... cradle?”

 She snorts and shakes her head. “Please. I saw the way you were staring at my ass at that last rest stop.” 

 She could’ve chosen a more opportune time to say that, perhaps when he wasn’t taking a sip of coffee. It’s rather uncomfortable coming up his nose. “Love,” he says through a cough. “I’m not— that is, I meant not to—”

 “It’s fine, Killian,” she tells him, giggling softly and playfully. “A girl likes to feel flattered, especially a girl who feels like a—”

 Her jaw snaps shut and her eyes grow wide, the emerald catching the rays of the sun and throwing glints of gold. “Like a what, darling?”

 “Like… um, like I could eat everything on the menu at McDonalds. Is it time to stop yet?”

 “No,” he laughs, although he finds that he struggles to say no to her and mean it, even after such little time, and he indicates his intent to change lanes and moves towards an exit. “We only stopped for breakfast a few hours ago.”

 “Well, I’m starving,” she tells him, shooting him a soft smile. “And if I don’t stretch my legs in a minute, they’re gonna fall off.” 

 “You need to stretch your legs? Your feet are currently on top of my dashboard. Is that not enough of a stretch?”

 “Your dashboard? I’m pretty sure I witnessed you stealing this car.”

 “From a scrapyard,” he mumbles, giving her a shy smile as he exits the highway. “What do you want for lunch? Or should I say brunch? It’s barely eleven.”

 “We crossed time zones, you ass.”

 “What do you want?” he laughs. 

 She hums playfully, pretending to ponder his question seriously and says, “a prime rib, cooked medium rare, with a side of garlic mashed potatoes. Caramelized onion and mushroom sauce on the steak. And some green beans, for balance.” 

 Shaking his head and laughing along with her, he says, “chicken nuggets and fries it is, darling.”

 ~~~~

 “You need to pull over,” she says suddenly, breaking almost an hour of silence between them during which he was certain she was asleep. After their early lunch, he decided to keep driving, anticipating that she would take over in a few hours. 

 “Emma,” he sighs, “we only just stopped two hours ago.”

 “I’m not asking,” she demands. “I’m telling you that if you don’t pull over,” she puts her hand over her mouth, her retching and gagging preventing her from saying anything more. 

 “Jesus,” he mumbles as he pulls into the breakdown lane, barely stopped and still in gear when she thrusts the door open and loses her lunch all over the ground. He can’t ask her if she’s alright because she hasn’t stopped vomiting, so he checks his side mirror and opens his door, walking around the front of the car to meet her. He stands behind the door and places his hand in her hair, massaging her scalp as she shudders violently. “I didn’t realize you were prone to car sickness.” 

 She groans, shaking her head and resting it against the window at her side. “I think your driving has gotten worse.”

 He hums, continuing his ministrations on her scalp as she catches her breath. “Was it the chicken, love? I knew that stuff was crap.”

 “No, it’s your crap driving.”

 “Do you want to take over, then?”

 “No, I want to sleep.”

 “Come on out and get some fresh air, would you?” She whimpers as he pulls the door open a bit more, and he takes her hand to help her out and around her sick. “It’s alright, love, come here.”

 She breathes deeply as she stands, and only remains in front of him for a moment before she falls forward against his chest and into his arms. “Sorry,” she whispers into his sweatshirts wrapping her arms around his waist and holding herself close to him. “For delaying the trip.”

 “You needn’t worry about that, love,” he soothes, and he focuses on moving his hands along her back and hair in the same way she had his. “A few moments while you find your bearings won’t hurt. Are you alright?”

 She nods against him, a sound coming from her throat that makes him squeeze her tighter. He can’t stop himself from pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, the need to comfort her interrupting any reasonable thoughts in his head. She whispers, “yeah,” so softly that he kisses her again. 

 “During lunch I found a small campground that takes cash. It’s only another few hours; can you make it that far? We can use the tent and the camping mat instead of sleeping in the car.”

 “Luxurious,” she jokes softly, maintaining her firm embrace around his middle. “That sounds perfect.”

 ~~~~

 She’s relentless in her jokes at his expense as he struggles with the tent. It’s dusk, and there’s a decent canopy of trees above him, and, as she points out often, he’s getting old. He struggles to see the small pieces and determine what goes where, and she’s hardly any help as she sits in the car laughing at him as she claims to be recovering from another spell of car sickness. 

 “You could try helping me, you know,” he finally mumbles as the structure collapses again and he’s met with her symphonic laughter. 

 “Need a newer pair of eyes, Captain?” she asks in good humor, standing and bounding towards him confidently. It’s almost miraculous how quickly she’s recovered, and yet her nausea seems to keep coming back. 

 “Very funny, love. Come and tell me where E connects to G.”

 It’s impossible to ignore the way the full moon shines against her hair, almost white in the dim light of the night sky. The gentle waves flow freely as she releases the tie from around her locks, rubbing her palms over her face as she settles into the warm cocoon of the sleeping bag. She gives him a soft, gentle smile as he zips the tent’s opening securely shut, taking his place upon the ground between her and the door. “Where’s yours?” she asks, gesturing down at her sleeping bag and camping mat.

 He shrugs and then nods towards her. “Someone stole it.” 

 Her eyes widen in surprised embarrassment and she asks, “this is yours? What about-- weren’t you and… I mean…” 

 Smiling as he lies down on his back, he turns his head to face her and says, “I was meant to travel alone, actually.”

 Just as he thinks she’s about to match his position and lie back herself, she stirs and begins tugging on the sleeping bag until she’s out of it. She shakes it out in front of herself to straighten it and then feels around in the dark for the zipper, pulling it around the puffy fabric until it’s fully open before her. Turning towards him, she gives him another soft smile and dramatically opens it like a parachute, draping it over the both of them. “There you go,” she says with finality. “We can share.” 

 “You don’t have to do that, love. It’s summer anyway.” 

 “We’re sleeping outside, and you're taking a second, unexpected person on your trip across the country, who also happens to frequently demand pit stops. The least I can do is share your sleeping bag with you.” 

 “Well… thank you, lass. That’s very kind of you.” 

 “I just can’t part with the mat, sorry. The ground is way too hard.”

 He laughs as he turns to his side, silently agreeing with her that the ground is mighty firm as he grimaces. “You can’t spare it for an old man with old bones?” 

 She shrugs, laughing softly as well as she rolls to her side to face him head on. “You're not that old.” 

 “So I'm only young when it suits you?” 

 “I didn’t say you were young.”

 He hasn’t laughed this much in years. Before he met her, he hadn’t been so close to a woman in almost a decade. He’s forgotten how soothing the gentle touch of another can be, and he’s been hard pressed to ignore how especially soothing she is, in particular. “You do have quite the sense of humor, love.” 

 “All in good fun,” she smiles. He catches her gaze shooting down at the hem of the old sleeping bag, her fingers fiddling with some thread that has pulled away from its place. “Will you tell me something?” she asks in a whisper. 

 “What is it?” 

 She clears her throat nervously, continuing to avert her eyes from his, and asks, “will you tell me about your daughter?” 

 With a hum and a sad smile, he bites his bottom lip and nods, the memories of his love flooding back into his mind, as if he’s ever been able to prevent them. “Alice,” he says. “She’s just turned eight a few months ago. I missed her birthday.” 

 “Why? What happened?” 

 He notes the way that her fingers continue to play at the loose threads, and he matches her actions just beside her. “I was with my mother; she was dying and had no one else while Liam was in jail. I wanted to bring Alice with me, but… her mother wouldn’t allow it.” 

 “I’m sorry,” she says immediately. He hears a rustle against the mat her head lies on and lifts his own gaze to meet hers. 

 “Thank you.” 

 “When did you see her last, then?” 

 He gulps over the lump in his throat. “It’s been well over a year.”

 She sighs, and he doesn’t think he imagines the minute amount of space that she closes between them. “You must miss her terribly.”

 “Aye, I do. Everyday.”

 “Is there… I mean, is there a reason it’s been so long? I’m not trying to judge you, I’m sorry, I just—“

 “It’s alright, love,” he interrupts, noting the sudden shift in her demeanor as she realizes the nature of her question. “Her mother was rather… controlling, I suppose. I believe she used drugs and alcohol for much of Alice’s early life. I don’t have any reason to believe she used during her pregnancy, but I cared for Alice from birth when Eloise fell off the wagon. I even named her, after my ailing mother. But a few years later, she got clean and started to take over. She took Alice to live with her; became upset when I came around. And eventually, the way she would scream at me when I tried to visit made Alice upset, so I stopped coming around as much.” 

 She’s quiet for a moment, and he wonders if he’s taken things a bit too far. If he’s opened up to her too much. He fears this for what feels like an eternity as she lies beside him, her warm breath washing over his nose as he thinks the worst. That he’s upset her, that he’s offended her, that he’s made her think of the trauma of being abandoned herself as he describes the way he abandoned his own daughter. And his fears are confirmed when she sniffles softly before him and moves her fingers from the frayed threads to her eyes, wiping tears away. 

 “Emma,” he whispers into the darkness, “I’m sor--”

 “That’s so terrible,” she interrupts sadly, and he bows his head in shame, knowing already that his actions are deplorable. Until she whispers, “I’m so sorry.” 

 “Sorry… for what?” he asks in shock, speaking almost at full volume, a contrast to their whispering tones. 

 “You just--” she sniffs once more, “--it’s obvious how badly you want to be in your daughter’s life, and you haven’t been able to. That’s got to be the worst feeling… I can’t even imagine not being allowed to…”

 Clearing his throat, he takes a risk by reaching before himself to wipe a tear from her soft cheek with his thumb, almost desperate to comfort her as she has him the entire time he’s known her. “It’s alright, love,” he whispers. “I’m going to get her back, with your help. I wouldn’t be here, on my way to her, if it weren’t for you.” 

 She sniffles and laughs at the same time, adorably embarrassed at the sound that escapes her, and asks, “what’s changed now? With you and her mom?” 

 “She died,” he answers simply. If she had begun to relax slightly into his hand, she stiffens at his words. “She relapsed, mixed drugs and alcohol… her body couldn’t handle it.” 

 “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “That must’ve been hard, too.” 

 “Not much,” he answers too quickly. She draws her brows together in question and he continues, “I’m sad for Alice; she’s lost her mother. But she never really had her much. Eloise was never a very devout mother. It always seemed like she was in it for the image, or only when it suited her. I don’t think she ever really wanted a child.” 

 Emma nods gently, the small gap between them getting smaller when a gust of wind shakes the tent and she slides closer to him. “Was she, I mean, was Alice a surprise?” 

 “Oh, aye, very much so,” he laughs softly. “El and I weren’t ever a couple, we just met at a bar and… well, we were only together once. It was sort of a low point for me.” 

 “I get that,” she nods again. “Sleeping with the wrong person, I mean. Not that… I mean, not that Alice was a mistake or anything, of course.” 

 “I know what you mean,” he consoles in a whisper as she again worries that she’s offended him. She should know that she couldn’t possibly say the wrong thing, because despite how short of a time he’s known her, he knows that she can do no wrong in his eyes. 

 “Will you tell me about her? Like… What was it like when she was a baby? Was it very hard?” 

 He hums and nods, agreeing, “it was hard, yes; I was mostly alone. But it was so worth it.” 

 “It was?” she asks softly, almost insecurely and making him narrow his eyes in thought. 

 She hasn’t told him anything, but he isn’t a fool. He means every word of what he says to her next, and says it in hopes that he can give her solace. “Aye. As hard as life has been, I wouldn't change anything because it’s how I got Alice.” 

 In a move that surprises him almost as much as it doesn’t, she moves as close to him as she can and tucks her head into his chest, just below his chin, and wraps her arm around his waist. “That’s a good point,” she murmurs into his sweatshirt.

 “Are you alright, love?” he asks, accepting her into his embrace and letting his hand run along the length of her spine over her own sweatshirt. He reminds himself that he doesn’t truly know her, so he can’t assume that this isn’t like her, but it feels profound. 

 She nods against his chest, pulling herself impossibly closer as she seems to seek more warmth and a firmer embrace. “It’s weird,” she starts, her voice muffled. “I barely know you, but it feels like you're my friend.” 

 “I am your friend,” he agrees with a smile. “And you’re mine. I told you I wouldn’t be here without you.” 

 “I wouldn’t either.” 

 “Of course not. I’ve been driving most of the way.” 

 She snorts, nuzzling her nose into the crook between his neck and his shoulder and squeezing around his waist. “Yeah, that’s why I’ve been puking nonstop.” 

 “Would you like to drive tomorrow, then?” he laughs. 

 “Sure.” 

 “Alright. We’ll need to leave quite early. Just another two days to go, I think.”

 “Okay,” she yawns, falling asleep in his arms feeling, he hopes, as safe as he does.

~~~~

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