Tumgik
#i do have a lot of short hairs near the front again bc i left the bleach in a while and lost clumps of hair lol
javarium · 1 year
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Good Enough | Leon.
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Warning(s): Female Reader, mentions of intentional harm and scarring from a prior Pokémon battle (because realistically, outside of Gyms and League Matches, I don’t see injuries on Trainers not happening), also warning for me bc I’ve never played the game, but the gifs are amazing :D Also might change the title so be on the lookout for that
Note(s): This is mostly a short story for something imma try to be writing somewhere in the near future lmao
Summary: You haven’t battled for so long, but when an old face of a someone who was once a good friend of yours appears to fight, you take up the fight again. And this time your boyfriend gets to see and gush over your battle prowess.
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Leon had never seen you battle. He knew you had an entire team at your disposal, but it never really occurred to him that you’d never had a Pokémon battle.
Until today.
“Come on! One fight! One Pokémon even!”
“I said no, Leon! I have my reasons.”
His pouty face never left. You shook him off your arm the second he latched onto it. He huffed, undefeated by your disinterest and unwillingness to use your former team to fight him. One way or another, he was going to get you to battle him.
“Just because my team goes where I go, doesn’t mean I want them to battle,” you told him.
That part was true. You didn’t want them to battle. But they wanted to battle, regardless of what you wanted. As Leon spoke, begging for a friendly fight between girlfriend and boyfriend, the Ultra Balls on your belt shook in delight at the mention of a battle, save for one.
You felt stuck. Definitely between a rock and a hard place, you thought. You didn’t want to deny Leon and his enthusiasm. In a way, you felt like you were disappointing him. You hated that sad, kicked puppy look he gave when he didn’t get his way with something he wanted.
Like those damn cupcakes last week, you remembered.
But it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know anything relating to why you didn’t battle anymore. You only sent out your team when you had to, when he overeager little kids and cocky arrogant jerks decided to battle you — not taking your lack of desire to fight as a green light rather than a red one.
Maybe… Just maybe it would be okay. Maybe you could keep a lid on your emotions and not break into a complete and total panic attack.
“Leon, I—“
“Well, well, look who’s here.”
Both of you turn and your eyes blow wide open.
Out in the Wild Area, there were certain places you’d rarely come across another person. Right where you were, was partly one of them. There were some areas were so secluded, in fact, that people weren’t often found for days. That’s originally how you met Leon, being sent on a task to find him alone. That, however, was a story for another day—
“Hello, [Name]. Lovely to see you again.”
—but the man standing in front of you had a lot to do with why you left the Wild Area’s Rescue Team and decided to never battle again.
Dark hair and familiar ill-intentioned eyes bore down at you. He smirked as you scowled.
“Oscar.” You tamed your breath and bit your tongue, not wanting to let him get under your skin.
“It’s good to see you again,” he comments. “And I imagine you say you could wish the same.”
The tension was so thick one could cut it with a knife. Leon, despite being former Champion and as strong as he was, was beginning to sweat and get nervous. The intensity between you and the male was starting to be too much. Leon shook your shoulder, offering an excuse to leave. He didn’t know this person, nor did he care to.
Unfortunately, this guy knew what Leon was doing.
“As wonderful as it is to meet you, former Champion Leon, my business is with this lady here,” said Oscar, who’s eyes only flickered to Leon for a split second to address him. “If you don’t mind.”
“My lady,” Leon corrected, understanding the veiled threat and intent perfectly. He got to his feet and stood, eyes narrowed at the hostility that was meant for you. “And I do mind.”
As Leon straightened his spine, his height seemed to increase, and you began to realize just how imposing Leon’s figure really was.
His biceps bulged against the sleeves of his black shirt, chest involuntarily puffing out. You could see every outline of Leon’s body, shirt tight and taut against his skin. The amount of adrenaline and anger he was feeling was evident, with you now seeing the veins in his arms and neck. You looked at your boyfriend from toe to head, and it was only when you saw his arms crossed over his chest and eyes narrowed with fury that you realized that Leon was absolutely pissed. You weren’t entirely sure Oscar was going to make it out of this encounter alive.
But Oscar, ever the idiot, decided to challenge Leon. He reached for the Ultra Ball attached to his hip, and if he hadn’t changed his battling habits — like he hadn’t changed the rest of himself — then Leon needed to move. Now.
You shrieked, “Leon!”
You barely moved in time as a Mamoswine came out of the Pokéball, nearly crushing your boyfriend underneath its feet.
Oscar’s Mamoswine was just as big as you remembered — at least half a Mamoswine bigger than a normal one, totaling 12 feet — him being when you and Oscar were still on the rescue team together.
“He’s huge,” Leon said, exhaling his held breath.
“Massive,” you agreed. “He’s always been like this.”
“The Mamoswine or Oscar?”
“Both.”
You heard your former teammate chuckle darkly. Of course he was finding all of this amusing.
“Ah, I’m sorry,” came the fake apology. “I should’ve watched where I was sending Mamoswine.”
Your eyes narrowed. Letting out a hefty sigh, you grabbed and clicking your belt back into place around your waist.
“You really should leave, Oscar,” you said threateningly, grabbing one particular Pokéball, “before I remind you of the real reason why I was Captain of the Wild Area Rescue Team.”
His own eyes narrowed at the mention of the memory. Oscar had always been unbelievably jealous of you being chosen as the leader instead of him. At the same time, he had an unnecessary fascination with you — an unhealthy obsession — that was driven with a mix of lust, jealousy, and utter hatred.
“I think I’ll pass,” he replied with a snarl to his tone. “Besides, I’d like to know… How’s that left leg of yours doing these days?”
You didn’t need a fancy toss. You merely held the button of the ball upward and a solid click sounded. And out came a massive Steelix, towering terrifyingly over the opposing Mamoswine and his Trainer; the same one that had been your best friend since he was a baby Onix and you an embarrassingly shy four-year-old in your Dad’s arms.
You almost broke your stoic composure and laughed at the sight of Leon’s shock-horrified look at the sight of the Steelix before him, looming high overhead over the three of you.
Oscar and his Mamoswine were unfazed, familiar with your Steelix from the last few years of being team members. The two Pokémon were on good terms, but they would always put their Trainers first and fight one another if necessary.
“Steelix—“
“Mamoswine—“
Leon watched as your Steelix and Oscar’s Mamoswine went to battle. Both of them were clearly battle-trained and, no pun intended, monsters in combat. And as you called out Steelix’s moveset to counter and attack Mamoswine, Leon realized that you were an amazing combatant and strategist. Steelix followed your orders without question, absolute in his confidence in your strategy to win.
The further the battle went on, without either of you changing Pokémon, he knew that if you’d ever entered the Gym Challenge, you would’ve swept him and his team clean and taken the Champion title from him like it was nothing.
“Mamoswine, return!” Oscar shouted. “Go, Lucario!”
“Steelix—“
“Lucario—“
“Mega Evolve!”
He’d only seen Mega Evolution a few times in his life, but being this close to Pokémon that we’re doing it showed him how much energy it contained, almost seemingly even more than Dynamax. The powerful bursts of energy nearly threw him off his feet, particularly from Steelix’s larger amount of power from its natural size.
The battle raged on. Leon was shocked to see how fast Steelix moved when Mega Lucario aimed his attacks at him. Steelix weighed almost a ton; how was he moving that darn fast?!
Twenty minutes later, after several Earthquakes, Lucario was out of the fight. You swept the rest of his team with yours, alternating between Gengar, Obstagoon, Milotic, Hatterene, and Hydreigon for the highest amount of effectiveness to end the fight quicker.
Oscar scowls at his easy loss, but says nothing. You see the change in his eyes from spite to… something else. You’re not entirely sure what you see in his eyes, but it looks tamer than earlier, slightly of a maturity you doubted he would ever have.
“You’re just as strong as ever, [Name]. It’s quite something to be reminded of,” Oscar chuckles, reminiscing fondly. “I was very disappointed when you left the team… but maybe I can understand why. Especially nowadays.” His eyes flicker to Leon, duly noting his earlier protectiveness and the nickname he’d given you. “You have something good… Keep it.”
You’re stunned by Oscar’s words.
He disappears within a few minutes after that, and Leon catches you as you collapse, gently bringing you to the ground.
“You’re amazing,” Leon says in an impressed exhale. “I can’t believe how strong you are.”
“Thanks.” You push the hair back from your eyes. “But I only do it when I have to. I dislike Pokémon battles very much. Oscar is a very large part of the reason why I quit, too. And not just the rescue team.”
Leon is silent for a moment, then says, “I understand. I may not know everything, but that guy brings bad trouble, has a bad aura to him.”
“He wasn’t always that way,” you murmur sadly, “but things changed. He used to be my best friend.”
“Well, I’m sorry he let you down,” he replied.
“Me too.”
He looked at your Pokéballs, then grinned and said, “But I know one thing,” trying to lighten the mood.
“What’s that?”
“You’re freakin’ amazing,” he said with awe, fists clenched with excitement and a fat grin on his face. “You’re an amazing battler! I can’t believe how strong you and your Pokémon are! You make me think you could even take me on and win!”
You feel embarrassment rush over you, from head to toe. You avoid eye contact, and you know now that Leon’s never going to stop bugging you for a battle.
This time, however, you might just oblige him.
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ipatrichor · 1 year
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OKAY SO. content warnings for near-drowning, injury, death, and eldritch horror stuff typical of a call of cthulu oneshot. (dw tho i promise no pets die)
in the back of the cabinet under the front counter, there's a tiny coraline door that leads nowhere- just a white wall. however, when you touch this wall you go right through it into an unknown space beyond. ronnie spots it first and decides to ignore it until the old man who works with us, van (yes we called him old man van) crawls through and disappears at which point we investigate.
the premise is that we all work at 7-11. no one schedules the shifts bc the manager doesn't fucking care, so we've all showed up today. our group is comprised of:
- ronnie, she/her, a herbo with a dog who shits on the floor of the 7-11
- morgs (short for morgan), she/they, a punk lesbian who used to date ronnie before things ended badly
- cody, they/them, an amateur ghost hunter who's always high and has more parkour skills than sense
- eide (pronounced eed), they/them, a mystery with a backpack they keep almost as close as they keep their secrets.
ronnie's dog, commander ozzy, goes through and eide ends up following to retrieve him. thankfully commander ozzy didn't go far, and all eide sees is a room with winding tunnels leading away from it and pipes along the walls. when they return they tell us not to go in, closing the cabinet and keeping watch. the group splits- cody and morgs smoke outside and discuss their curiosity, eide texts an unknown party, and ronnie waits behind the counter.
eide goes to the back to snack on inventory while leaving their phone behind. morgs and cody return while the coast is clear, and cody takes their backpack and sneaks inside. two men come looking for eide, but ronnie and morgs lie and say they don't know an eide so the men leave. eide comes back out, learns what happens, and goes out into the front parking lot but is too late to catch them.
around this time, the manager comes back and insists on going after old man van despite ronnie's protests. after sticking his head inside, though, his sanity is greatly damaged and he returns nearly catatonic, barely aware of the world around him. ronnie does her best to deal with this, but is left with no assistance.
meanwhile, cody records their trip and leaves a trail of pencils. they begin to explore the tunnels while morgs keeps watch back in the 7-11 with cody's beloved pet lizard, galcan (short for galactic cannibalism). morgs glances inside to take another look, and while she does ronnie returns from stuffing the manager in a closet and yanks her out despite her resistance.
they argue, bringing up their messy breakup. morgs reveals that cody is in the tunnels, and ronnie is horrified and insists on going to find them and bring them back. the two do so, following the pencil trail.
eide comes back inside, finds them gone, and frustratedly enters the tunnels to find them. ronnie and morgs argue again, and morgs ends up splitting off from the group while eide finds a sacrificial dagger and ronnie follows the pencil trail looking for cody, who is having just a lovely time filming things.
they all hear a loud banging noise and rush towards it, reconvening in a cafeteria-esque room. galcan is happily returned to cody’s pocket, and a child's ball bounces by itself from a hallway leading to a weird door with an old-fashioned padlock and a tray of food next to it. ronnie is desperate to leave, and morgs teases her for being scared while eide investigates the food and cody films the door.
morgs promises to leave if ronnie goes and touches the scary door, which she reluctantly does. on the way out, though, a curtain separating the cafeteria from the kitchen moves somewhat and morgs just has to investigate. she calls cody over and the two joke around about the meat grinder and the gross hair in the sink. cody pokes it with a pencil and it feels squishy, which grosses them out. the drain starts to bubble and flood, alarming the trio who quickly make up their minds to leave- much to ronnie’s relief.
meanwhile, eide has gone further down the hallway, past windows that reveal only flat blue, and finds the bridge of a submarine. there’s a radar with nothing showing up, and a parascope that reveals nothing but more blue. the other three follow, and are trying to all get their shit together and persuade everyone to leave when something shows up on the rader. it’s getting closer, and when ronnie looks through the parascope she sees huge, indescribable creatures heading toward the submarine at impossible speeds. they slam into the submarine, loud bangs sounding and pipes beginning to burst.
they start running, only to find that there are several inches of water and rising on the floor. the pencil trail has been washed away, but ronnie remembers the way back and runs that way, cody pulling morgs along after her while eide pauses to investigate the strange door that’s now unlocked. they find a book and some information in a car’s glove box, and then take off to try and catch up with the others.
the water is rising fast, and as they come to an intersection all three see something that gives them pause. off to the right, ronnie sees commander ozzy swimming and runs towards him. on the left, cody sees galcan swimming and checks their pocket, confused to find her still safely inside. directly ahead, morgs sees a horrifying disproportionate creature waiting for them.
when ronnie reaches commander ozzy, instead of her dog she finds a piece of broken off pipe floating in the water and takes it. further down the tunnel is a green sign that she hopes will lead to an exit, and she wades toward it. eide catches up as the others follow her, all panicked.
the sign says exeunt, but cody points out that they’re in a submarine- any exit here will likely lead to the ocean instead of to the 7-11. despairing and resigned to swimming back through the tunnels looking for the original passage, they turn back only to find space bending around them and the green sign in front of them again. out of options, ronnie opens the door next to it. water rushes out into the rooms beyond, and they follow and quickly work together to shut the heavy door behind them to trap the water out.
they find themselves in a room with a single table in the middle, and a pitch black doorway on the other end with a bloody handprint on the wall next to it. with nowhere else to go, the group ventures onward- ronnie in the lead with a phone flashlight and metal pipe, morgs next with two knives she doesn’t know how to use, eide following and keeping their backpack close, and cody bringing up the rear with galcan and a vape pen because there’s no way they’re dealing with any of this sober.
as they move, the walls around them become narrower. they move, remaining metal but rhythmically expanding and contracting as if breathing. this tunnel ends in another room, empty except for what looks like a person sitting in a chair with their back towards the entryway. they breathe oddly, in a way that moves their whole body, and it’s the same rhythm as the walls.
ronnie, pushed to her absolute limit, wastes no time attacking the figure. she gets in a few solid swings with the pipe, refusing to stop as the others stare. the creature rises and turns, revealing itself to be a twisted abomination, and roars- lashing out at ronnie, who ducks out of the way and hits it again. she keeps attacking it until it lashes out and grabs her with a massive hand, squeezing and doing a fair bit of damage.
cody is afraid enough that it turns to anger, shouting ‘hey! that’s my coworker!’ and lunging. they latch onto the wrist and stab it, causing pain but failing to make it let go of ronnie. she manages to struggle out of its grip, but its other hand lashes out and impales cody through the ribs- missing vital organs and galcan’s hoodie pocket, but now dangling them from its hand as it moves.
meanwhile, the sound of the roar reverberating through her head and now cursed with the knowledge that the submarine itself is alive and the creature is just part of it, morgs examines the walls and pipes and starts turning nozzles, hoping to hurt the entity in some way.
catching on to her plan, ronnie hefts her pipe and starts smashing the pipes on the walls. these attacks cause steam to fill the room and hallway, gradually reducing visibility but also seeming to hurt the creature as the submarine itself screams.
kept functioning by adrenaline, cody starts sawing at the three fingers impaling them, trying to cut themself loose without removing the objects to minimize blood loss. it’s slow going, however, because all they have to work with is their pocket knife.
with the hand not wearing cody as a decoration, the creature swings at ronnie and morgs. morgs manages to dodge, rolling and coming up with knives ready and a wildness in her eyes, but ronnie is less nimble and gets slammed into a wall. behind them, eide finally pulls the secret from their backpack- a double barrel shotgun- and fires, staggering the creature. they then move to help cut cody lose, using the sacrificial knife they found earlier.
ronnie continues to attack the pipes, more steam spilling out and greatly impacting visibility. morgs tries to escape but gets turned around, running into the creature and getting grabbed. it knocks her unconscious and tosses her aside as eide gets cody loose, dragging them away to relative safety and reloading their shotgun.
ronnie, meanwhile, can hear the cries and yelling of her coworkers. she has a moment, remembering their frequently shit interactions and all the things she calls them assholes for, and decides- fuck it, if she’s going to die for her shitty coworkers, then so be it. she keeps breaking the pipes, even as the steam spilling out keeps burning her, until she’s gone.
ronnie is dead. morgs lies on the floor unconscious. cody still has three giant fingers impaling their stomach, likely bleeding out. eide stands functionally alone, their shotgun and their determination against the creature. they stand their ground, take aim, fire-
and everything goes black.
when they’re aware again, they’re sitting in a chair next to two hospital beds. in one lies cody, asleep but on the road to healing. in the other is morgs, who still has yet to awaken. her heart moniter flatlines, and all eide can do is watch, barely aware of the world around them, as the hospital fights to keep her alive and manages to restart her heart. whether she’ll ever wake up again or not, there’s no way to know.
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fantabulisticity · 2 years
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On a happier note, my hair absolutely fucks! The back section was supposed to be more aqua, but the purple streaks in it turned it into a dark blue (which looks great also).
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shotorozu · 3 years
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you like their hands
character(s) : shinsou hitoshi, kirishima eijirou, monoma neito (2/?)
legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns, quirk left unmentioned
post type : headcanons + small scenario [fluff, the mildest of spice] not even nsfw
note(s) : i was gonna put denki in this but i had a hard time thinking about what kinda hands he’d have, so i’m putting him in the next post
»»————- ♡ ————-««
shinsou hitoshi
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his hands are big, and his fingers are quite thick.
really likes wearing rings and bracelets, but he usually doesn’t wear them when he’s working (i’d say that bc wearing jewelry while doing physical activity HURTS)
regarding texture, his hands were initially soft— but due to transferring in the hero course, they roughened up over time
he’ll use hand cream if you want, but he doesn’t go the extra mile. and his nails are trimmed at all times. painting his nails a black color would be great once in a while.
lol i forgot to mention nails in the last post
he notices right away that you like his hands when he catches you staring at them when he’s cracking his knuckles
like.. people have said that his hands are nice, but he doesn’t really say much about them bc they’re not you
scenario
a crack sound is briefly heard in the rather silent room. the scrolling on your phone halts, and your eyes follow the sound of the crack.
ah, he’s cracking his knuckles. you think to yourself, and you’re left just simply admiring the way he applies pressure on a knuckle. who knew that his rather— large hand would look appealing, even while cracking his knuckles.
you snap out of your observation, but instead of just simply going back to whatever you were doing, you’re met with lilac eyes. “you were staring again.”
your cheeks heat up, and you opt to just turn your head to the opposite direction. “sorry,” you apologize. however— that’s not what hitoshi was looking for apparantly.
“if you like my hands alot,” he scoots next to you, hands sliding up and down your arms— his firm grip practically making the pre existing butterflies in your stomach act up again. “then you should’ve said so, kitty.”
is he conscious of his actions? hm. you could say that
he’ll purposely play with his capture tool right in front of you— the material wrapping around his hand. and he can only laugh when you immediately get absorbed into it
the back of his hand will brush against your cheek. then, when he comes in to kiss you, he’ll cup your cheek— kissing you with his other hand resting at your nape
under the table, his hand will start to slide against yours, interlocking hands with you. he’ll act like nothing is happening, but on the inside— he’s taking in your reaction
a little spicy, but when he wants you to look at him— he’ll do that thing where his thumb brushed against your bottom lip, as it almost dips right into your mouth
if he feels a little extra, his hand will also be tugging on your hair (if you’re fine with that. otherwise, he’s sticking to the one above)
oh and he also does that thing where he rests his hand on your neck, thick fingers squeezing your throat lightly.
overall— THIS MAN omg, he’ll entertain your interest in his hand nicely, just for you. and every single thing he does is memorable
kirishima eijirou
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his hands are quite normal regarding size, they are almost always veiny, a lot more than bakugou’s actually. i think at some point he was concerned about them
his hands are rather flushed in color, but that’s because of his quirk. his fingers have a few tiny scars here and there,
he occasionally has pen marks on his wrists due to bad penmanship, and his nails.. don’t look the best, but they’re not the worst it’s bc of his quirk
the palms of his hands are ridden with callouses. but he wears them with pride because it’s the pure evidence of his hard work with his training.
but he starts to get worried about them when he goes to hold your hand.
you always had a thing for kirishima’s hands, but you just never had the chance to tell him that. i guess asking you did it for him
scenario
did you even realize how hard you were staring at his hands right now? it happened every single time he enlaced his arms around you, his hands resting at the sides of your arms
at first, he thought it might’ve been because his hands are too rough, or you might’ve been in discomfort— because maybe, just maybe, he accidentally activated his quirk?
the fact that he can’t exactly tell what it is worried him, maybe he should just ask you.
but his worry washed off when you told him upfront that you ‘liked his hands’
“wait so.. you’re staring at my hands because you like them?” kirishima wants to confirm your words, and— so casually, by the way— nod in agreement.
tracing the veins on his hands, you elaborate “your hands are really nice, i can tell how hard you must’ve worked.” pressing your smaller hand against his, you smile.
eijirou takes a moment to process it, but it’s surprisingly quick. “oh t-thanks!” he sheepishly took the compliment, a small blush sporting on his cheeks. “i’m glad it wasn’t because you thought they were weird.”
kirishima unintentionally feeds your interest with his hands. like sometimes.. he’s just not aware of it, but yes— he is feeding your interest well
will always make you compare hand sizes with him, chuckling softly at the dazed look on your face when your palms touch
if you allow him, he’ll fix your hair for you. doesn’t matter what hair type you have, he’ll do LOTS of research to know how to style it
those hands are magical
if you get a papercut, or a wound from cooking— he’ll patch you up, then he’ll press a kiss on the bandaid.
he’ll do this thing where he’ll squeeze your sides when you pull in for a hug. but if you’re not okay with that, he’ll opt to just rubbing your back with his hand— rocking you softly as he hugs you
a little spicy, but his hands do wander a lot. you might need to even hold them in place to make sure they don’t go too wild
in addition to that, he’ll just SLIGHTLY, activate his quirk to make sure you’re conscious of his touch. his finger tips gliding against your back, sending shivers down your spine.
but of course, he’s careful. he doesn’t activate it to the point it causes scratch marks, nor will his actions draw blood. he doesn’t wanna do that
in short— kirishima’s a little clueless at first. he wouldn’t really tease you in public, but he’s surprisingly attentive to your interest.
monoma neito
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his hands are on the tipping edge of slightly above average. he doesn’t have a lot of veins on his hands, but they do pop out depending on what quirk he’s using
monoma’s hands are pretty spotless of any scars (from cuts, abrasions, etc.) because he gets REALLY annoyed with wounds pretty easily
to the point he’d want to attend to the wound immediately, he doesn’t let them sit— it’s just a personal preference
his nails are at the perfect length. not too long and not too short to the point it hurts, you don’t know how he does it.
wears watches on his wrists, and not the digital type— he sorta acts like he can read it easily, but it takes him a few seconds to even get to know the time
you know this because kendo snitched on him and told you LOL
you secretly hate yourself for this, but you really like his hands because of how he takes care of them. you’d never tell monoma even though you’re dating him
scenario
you’re unsure of yourself on how your boyfriend— monoma, found out about your fascination with his hands. it was supposed to be a secret for the rest of your life, and you only remember talking about it once out loud
which you assumed was a close call, considering that you thought he didn’t hear it at all— but he did.
“so i heard you like my hands, huh Y/N?” monoma’s teasing tone does not aid the situation. your cheeks heat up with embarassment, and you can’t get yourself to answer his question— without sounding like a fool anyway.
you fake annoyance, “where’d that come from?” you ask, and monoma doesn’t seem to want to switch the topic
“i’m asking you a question, dear Y/N— i heard you like my hands,” his tone would’ve sounded condescending to any other person, but you can tell that he’s either genuinely curious
or just teasing you, because that’s how he is.
to aid his question, he brushes his fingers along your neck— near your pulse. you jolt, stunned by the sudden action— heart beating rapidly against your chest.
“see,” monoma presses his hand against your chest, where your heart is palpitating, grinning in a way that’s teasing you “it’s true, isn’t it? sweet Y/N has a thing for my hands, hm?”
you furrow your eyebrows, and flick his forehead— and he hisses in reaction, “fine then, i do like your hands.” you finally give in, admitting final defeat.
ever since then, you haven’t heard the end of it
definitely that person that’ll just randomly bring it up to you, no matter what hour of the day it is.
“oh Y/N, you were totally fawning over my hands earlier—”
“i will castrate you.”
you know he means well most of the time, but sometimes he just loves teasing the heck out of you.
but that doesn’t mean he neglects your obvious interest in his hands.
he’ll compliment you, he’s a snarky person in general— but to you, he’s totally smooth with it.
slides his hand from your forearm to your hands, only to bring them up to his lips, pressing a kiss against your hand
squeezes your hand everytime he sees you, it’s kind of a nonverbal greeting at this point
similar to kirishima, he likes comparing hand sizes— teasing you about the size difference (even if it’s not even a big of a difference, he’ll take that chance.)
does this thing where he rubs his thumb against his palm. does it a lot when he’s concentrated about something, or just out of the blue
a little spicy, but he’ll make you tell him what you like about his hands, and what you like about the things he does with those hands of his. if that makes sense
he wants all of the details, doesn’t care if it’s mundane, or things he does when he’s feeling a certain way.
he wants to know, because as soon as you’re done with your spewl, he’ll do exactly what you like, teasing you while he’s at it. and so he can start incorporating those habits whenever he’s around you.
totally someone that’ll make you suck on those fingers. oh, but he’ll purposely get some dessert on them— asking you to suck them off
“good grief, i got some dessert on my fingers again. Y/N, come suck them off”
sometimes he’s serious, sometimes he’s just teasing.
overall— it’s pretty adventurous. he starts to act on it as soon as the revelation is revealed to him.
but i’d say he does just fine.
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likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!
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flusteredloser · 3 years
Text
sugar sweet
richie tozier x fem reader
category: fluff, fluff, literally just fluff
word count: 3,3k
content warnings: swearing, stealing, slight nsfw (sexual innuendos... bc it’s richie tozier), a driving scene written by a bitch who can't drive, overbearing fluff, sonia
a/n: hello here’s a lil soft fic i wrote in a hyper state today <3 i had ‘beverly’ by ben wallfisch from the it 2017 soundtrack stuck in my head while i wrote the ending so !! enjoy
🎡
"sweetheart, if you don't put your head back in, i'm afraid i'm gonna have to marie antoinette you."
you laughed dismissively at his empty threat, feeling a grin take over. you let the wind crash against your face and through your hair, the scent of sea salt softly filling your nose. if richie thought that you were going to give this feeling up, oh, was he wrong.
despite what he was saying, the sight of morning sunlight streaking through your flying hair and your torso poking out the passengers' window was one richie wished he could get used to. despite his nagging for the past half hour, ranting about the dangers of vehicular manslaughter and mishaps, he couldn't help but beam at your laughter. 
he almost hit himself in the head for getting all worked up about safety like eddie always did, but it was something he found himself doing often with you. keeping you safe and sound was one of the few things that kept him from staying up all night. besides, you guys were going to see eddie and the rest of the losers in a bit anyways. the designated role of the pedantic worrier would soon be shrugged off richie's shoulders.
keeping one hand on the wheel, richie’s free hand never left the edge of your knee, not once in the hour-long drive. no matter how far you reached your body out his car's window, his fingers stayed glued around you. you never said anything about the gesture apart from placing your hand over his. being his was something you never got used to, but you were far from complaining.
"richierichierichie i think we're here!" you exclaim, ducking your head back inside the car.
"you sure, dummy? the massive ferris wheel and circus tent means we're close to the carnival?"
your hand leaves his to go shove his temple, "fuck off, rich."
"i know i know, you're really excited," he taps your knee, "so am i."
he pulls into the parking lot, expertly navigating his way through the crowded area before finding a space. an empty space which was coincidentally beside a sketchy beat-up minivan painted with "URIS," in fat letters.
richie laughs, "what are the fucking odds.”
his hand moves from the skin on your knee to the back of your seat, his body shifting to face the rear. you subtly eye your boyfriend sitting in the driver's seat and tried not to physically express any of the thoughts firing in your mind right then. dear god, did he look good today. you end up shamelessly staring at him as he strains his neck to squeeze his way through tight space. his knuckles turn to this ghostly shade of white when he flexed them against the wheel, his rings glinting under the sunlight.
once he finally put the car in park and shifted his weight back to you, he catches your gaze. throwing a wink, he pulls out the keys and stuffs his belongings into his jean pockets. 
you’re sure he has zero clue about the effect any of this had on you. sure, he was your boyfriend but sometimes you found yourself feeling scared at how much you liked him. this boy has you wrapped around his finger and he barely knows half of it.
you reach over and run your fingers through his unruly hair a couple more times, enjoying the way the curls bounce back. “you look so good, rich.”
he rolls his eyes at your remark, but you don’t miss the way a small blush reaches tips of his ears. “enjoy it while it lasts, i can’t let the guards recognise me again.” 
“i still can’t believe you got fired and banned on the same day, rich. that’s genuinely so impressive, you know that?"
richie rolls his eyes but you see the hint of a grin on his face, “you going soft on me, sweets?”
“could never.” you ruffle his hair, letting your nails glide along his scalp and you laugh at the way his head naturally tips back. richie had no clue why the feeling of your hands in his hair that made him short-circuit, but he wasn’t complaining.
“do we really have to go see them...” richie groans, grabbing your hand and placing it back onto his head when you pulled away.
“richard tozier. i did not pester you to drive us an hour away just so you could fold at me playing with your hair.”
he side-eyes you. “why did i agree to this again?”
“because every day for the last month you wouldn’t shut up about ‘taking eddie’s slushee v-”
“ed’s slushee virginity, riiiight,” he breaks out in a smile, “jesus, can you believe sonia never let him near one in his entire life?”
you tug his fringe towards you and the rest of his head followed, “well, now that he’s all alone there, someone’s got to be there to guide him through his first time, right?” 
he faux-pouts back at you, the mischievous glint in his eye sparkling brighter. “fine.”
finally, you let go of his hair and he pecks a kiss against your cheek before putting on his sunglasses and tipping his cap further down his face. opening his car door, you sit there dumbfounded as you watch the 6'2 disguised dork clamber out of his side with your tote bag on his shoulder.
he glances back, offering a hand as if you were going to climb out on his side as well, “c’mon, we don’t have all day.” and richie made sure you knew that by dragging you through the park, evading the guards left and right in under a minute. it was only so long before you spotted a group of idiots wandering aimlessly. bev’s bright red hair was the instant identifier, and watching this bill’s lanky frame grab a fistful of stan’s curls to yank it about sealed the deal. 
“stanley, darling,” richie yelled through the crowd, “if you wanted someone to pull your hair that badly you could’ve asked me nicely.”  “shut the fuck up, trashmouth!” stan yelled back. “wait. rich?”
you walk over and sling your arm around bev, “you guys haven’t been waiting long, have you?”  she grins at the sight of you, “no, but if i have to hear mike argue one more time that the high striker is apparently ‘broken’ i’m going to kill somebody.”
“do me a favour and kill me, bev!” stan’s voice cuts through, followed by a shriek when richie too grabs a handful of his hair. 
bev’s hand leaves yours to go smack both boys upside the head. “y’all better stop acting like children before i get fucking fired. i’m not going out like dumbass richie here did.” she eyes the rest of them, who all halt in their tracks.
“yes, ma’am,” the chorus sighed.
🎡
"ed's, i swear on your mother's smokin’ bod that blue is the. best. flavour. there's literally nothing wrong with it."
"you just called blue a flavour, richie-”
"because it can be. it doesn’t matter if blue and red colouring are the same, you can feel the difference.”
"no, i really can't. i don't understand how the colour blue could possibly be-"
richie groans, "fine, eat your mommy's packed lunch like the big boy you are." he teasingly starts to wave his cup in front of eddie's eyes.
"quit it, rich. if eddie doesn’t want toxins in his body, leave him be." ben interjects before sipping his own neon drink.
the boys huddled together around a picnic table they had managed to snatch before the carnival’s lunch rush swept over. richie and bev used to work in the carnival last summer, the two-week period spent with one another supposedly being “worse than the devil’s asscrack.” the comment itself earned richie five slaps, one each from the boys, and a high-five from bev. that was until richie got permanently banned (which you still don’t know how) and now bev carried on by herself whenever they roll back into derry. 
currently, you and bev were on your way back from the concession stands, attempting not to spill anything. you each held at least four bags of carnival foods and drinks in your arms, bev also balancing the few candy bars she stashed under her shirt. teeter-tottering your way back to the boys, richie burst out in laughter at the sight of you struggling. 
“as graceful as a job you’re doing with that, sweets, do you want some help?” he smirks, already swinging his leg over the chair.
“nope, nothing to see here,” you groan at richie’s smug grin. “rich, i swear to god if you come near me i am going to-”
“hurt me, hit me, murder me, mmhm. i’m sure you’ll do a whole lot of damage.” he winks, swiping the bags from your arms.
“freaky.” stan muttered, churning his slushee with the straw. you grumble at richie’s endearing irritating act of heroism and plop yourself next to stan empty-handed. 
“here, you want some?” stan raises an eyebrow, offering his blue slushee towards you.
“thanks stan, but he’s got my...” you glance towards richie, half-expecting to see him distributing the snacks, only to see him aggressively nudge the slushees in eddie’s face. “you know what, i’ll take it.” 
stan scoffed, “what, you thought i was offering this from the depths of my generous heart? i thought you knew me better-"
the sound of plastic crinkling and eddie’s yelp cut through stan’s sentence. 
you look back at the sight of richie threatening to pour the ice into eddie’s hair, eddie shrieking and wildly missing punches at richie. dear god, your boyfriend was such a menace. richie and eddie never spent a day where they weren’t at eachother’s throats though, but anyone with a pair of eyes could see that they deeply loved one another. rich had that effect on people, you think. he was rarely overtly loving, but it’s not like he needed to be. you guys just knew.
ben smiles sweetly between you and your gaze on richie. “you’re staring again, y/n.”
you immediately snap out of it and go to slug ben in the shoulder. “was not.”
“was too.”
"was. not."
"was too!"
you narrow your eyes at ben who sheepishly smiles in innocence. he reaches over to grab a couple onion rings from your bag to which you lightly slap the back of his hand. he groans, trying again from another angle, “just because i pointed out your goo-goo eyes at trashmouth?”
bev snatched a couple rings from across you and threw them at ben. he chuckles gleefully at the perfect catch. “you know, he’s not wrong,” she points out.
“for the last time, i wasn’t staring,” you groan.
“not about that, genius. the way you’re absolutely whipped for that dick.” she smiles. “i mean,” you barely conceal your smirk, “the dick is pretty g-”
"not what i meant," bev sighs while the rest of them groan at your words.
“seriously though,” bill asks with genuine curiosity, “how did you even end up together? how do you even like someone that much?” bev tuts from the other side, “tread lightly there, denbrough.” 
“shut up, you know what i mean. it’s trashmouth we’re talking ’bout here.” bill grins, “it’s a mystery how someone can shut him up so quick.”
you laugh to yourself, thinking about the few times you get to see richie completely speechless. “it’s not that hard, you know?” you shrug softly at the way the losers nod. you may all pretend to hate the life out of him but he always had a special place in each of your hearts. “he cares with everything he’s got, no matter what. he’s always there for you even if you don’t want him to be. i just...i don’t think he’s been anything less than...” 
“-if you say ‘perfect’, i’m going to hit you.” stan says.
you roll your eyes at stan, “fuck off, but... but yeah. it’s so easy to love him and i honestly owe you guys an apology for being so annoyingly whipped for that dork,” you joke.
aside from the distant bickering coming from richie and eddie in their own little world, a silence hung over the six of you. it was too quiet. wondering if you said something wrong, you scan over them, only to be met with six variations of a smirk. more than confused, you chuckle nervously. “i was joking about the apology thing but if you really want-”
“you said ‘love.’” bev laughed.
“what?”
“you said ‘love,’” she repeated. “that you loved him.”
“i... of course i love him, he’s..” not trusting any more of the words coming out of your mouth, you cut yourself off and gather your thoughts.
of course you loved richie. each and every one of you loved your resident trashmouth, he was one of your best friends. the two of you were the closest of friends, an insufferable duo for years before you began dating. it might have only been a few weeks since he asked you out, but it’s not like too much changed from when you were friends. 
there was only more love, more affection, only slightly more sexual innuendos (majority of them were solely just to piss off stan). 
so of course you loved him. more than you did when you were friends. which he’s gotta know... right?
“fuck, maybe i do owe you guys an apology.” you joke.
“don’t think twice about it, this is nothing compared to him. if i took a shot for every time he went on some sort of love ramble about you, i’d be fucking dead.” bev replies, “and then he would carry on.”
you laugh, shaking your head in denial, “c’mon, he does not do that.”
“are you blind?” mike speaks up. “you’ve had him since the first day you joined us at the barrens. i can still see fourteen-year-old richie ogling you clear as day.”
you stammered at your response, tripping over your words. “mike, i think you broke her. she’s become bill,” stan teases.
you go to shove stan again and sorely miss. “anyways, my point is...” 
you avoid their eye contact and go back to churning stan’s slushee. “he has my heart, fuck, he’s got all of our hearts. like, is he an asshole? sure. does he get on my nerves every other day? definitely. will he be the death of me? probably. but i l-”
“i sure hope you’re winding up to something there, sweets.” 
you snap your head up from your dreamy rambling to see richie smirking next to you and eddie squeezing himself next to bill. you feel yourself go bright red at the realisation that he had been listening. 
“i- no. that was it.”  
“you sure? you going off about me... ‘but’...” richie pushes, quoting your words.
“richie, if you genuinely think you have redeeming qualities, i suggest some self-reflection.” stan quipped. “yeah, i was just pointing how much you bother us. no ifs, no buts,” you jokingly agree.
“mean,” richie rolls his eyes, shifting back in his seat next to you.
he’s gotta know... right? 
you wink and stick your tongue out playfully, to which richie raises an eyebrow at. he glances between the blue drink in your hand and your tongue, his gaze on your lips making you nervous. 
“now, what?” you sigh, wiping the ice from your mouth and pretending that you weren’t dying to know what was churning in that brain of his. 
“nothing,” richie shrugs smugly, “just that i’ve always wanted to know how my cock looked blue.”
the comment took you off guard, your instant blush only fuelling richie’s grin. without hesitation, you lean over with a faux-pout, an act that has richie’s eyes wide. “careful there, trashmouth,” you tease loudly. ���you keep this up and you’ll see how stan’s looks blue.”
bev immediately gasps with her hand over her mouth, followed by mike’s stifled cackle as he slapped richie’s back. the rest of the group looks frankly stunned, and stan’s face is on a whole different level of red. 
richie doesn’t even look the least bit angry. his jaw is dropped slightly and he runs his hand over his jaw, trying to stop the chuckle that leaves his throat. if anything he looks proud. 
shaking his head with a smile, he slings his arm over your shoulder to pull you closer. “that’s my girl,” he grins.
“yeah, that for sure is tozier’s,” bill says.
there’s no way any of you miss the way richie’s face goes red under that comment and your heart skips a beat when he squeezes your side. when no one’s looking, you lean up and kiss by his ear, absolutely delighted by the deeper shade of red on his face. 
“darl, if you don’t stop that i’m going to go as red as stan,” he whispers into your hair. the both of you look back at the boy who’s trying to concentrate on his slushee and not the blush that’s continued to creep to his neck. “i’m actually getting concerned.”
you giggle, “shh, he’s fine.”
“no really, i give it a couple seconds before eddie pulls out his medical fanny pack,” richie says.
you look up at him as you’re tucked into his side, his arm still slung around your shoulder. his dark hair and eyelashes caught the sunlight, his blue eyes glinting as he glanced back. his lips were tipped into their signature cheeky smile, almost like a cue that he was going to say something out of hand. you felt the swell of your heart grow as he raised his eyebrows, prompting what he knew you were going to say. 
“you know, earlier...” you whisper, looking down to his hand intertwining with yours. “i just... i wanted to say that i... you know... that i-”
“i feel like i should be offended at how hard it is for you to tell me you love me, sweets,” he whispers back, clearly trying to keep a straight face.  fuck.  “oh god please, you know i-” richie shushes you, kissing the crown of your head. “it’s okay, i know.” you can feel the curve of his lips against your hair. “i love you too.”
trying to tame the aggressive blush and stupid smile that reached your face, you follow his gaze over to eddie. just like richie joked, he had this fanny pack laid on the table in front of stan. you weren’t listening to anything they were saying, but you watched the way stan was squirming from eddie, insisting he did not have heatstroke. mike stood right behind stan, pinching his cheeks and periodically wrapping his strong arms around stan to stop him from squirming. bev was leaning across ben and bill’s laps, joining in and poking her fun at eddie and you notice how bill’s hands traces figures along bev’s side. ben gazes at the group of them, chiming in every so often when stan’s quips got too violent. 
it was one of those moments you wish you could freeze. 
after a while, richie whispers into your ear. “do you think they’d even notice if we left for the ferris wheel?”
you break your eye contact from the group to gaze up at him. “nope, not at all. you think you can sneak us some tickets?” 
“please, you think i got kicked out of here for nothing?” he scoffs.
“is this how you’re going to get banned again?” you grin, poking his side, “stealing tickets for your girl?”
with a soft smile, he takes your hand to subtly stand and back away from the group. with stifled giggles, the both of you manage to make it at least twenty feet without the losers even noticing. the second you two were out of earshot, richie wraps his hand around yours and begins to run, “i wouldn't want it any other way."
🎡
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rebeccccccaaa · 3 years
Text
ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ _____________________
ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ’s!ʙᴇsᴛ!ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ!ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs ᴀᴜ
sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You and Buck have always been close growing up but you two soon learn that the line that separates friendly and flirting is a lot thinner than you think.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: fluff, slight angst bc u got a shit bf, big bro vibes from bucky, smut duh [18+ minors dni (slight praise but also slight degradation, marking, belly bulge, squirting, fem!rec oral, unprotected sex, plz be safe irl, slight choking, pet names: darling&princess, i think that’s it lmk plz)]
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: hey assholes i'm back for the time being lol. I have a few ideas and fics I'm currently writing right now so do not fret.
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You knew this was a horrible idea. 
It’s Saturday night and you and your boyfriend were back in another night club after being kicked out from one just hours before. Daniel had gotten too drunk, as he always does, causing you to kindly ask the bartender to cut him off. Daniel didn’t take that too lightly resulting in a gnarly swing at the poor guy just doing his job. 
Security threw you out and Daniel called an Uber to go where you thought was going to be your apartment but twenty minutes later you pulled up to another club practically on the other side of town. You yelled at Daniel but he pushed aside stumbling inside for yet even more drinks and mistakes waiting for him inside. 
You sat at the bar simply drinking some water and snacking on some peanuts keeping your eye on your garbage boyfriend. You're constantly checking the time on your phone, annoyed with every passing minute. It was 2 am and you just wanted to go home and sleep. You were even debating texting your brother Steve hoping you could just crash at his place not too far from where you were but it would be incredibly irresponsible to just leave Daniel in the state he’s in. 
So you waited and waited and waited. Your eyelids felt heavy and your energy was just completely drained. You were basically a zombie. It wasn’t until a guy approached your half asleep body that you felt a sense of alert. Daniel was shit-faced so you were practically defenseless. 
“Hey,” the guy shouted over the music.
“Sorry, I’m not interested. My boyfriend’s-” you quickly said, only to be cut off.
“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hit on you. I’ve got a boyfriend of my own,” he chuckled, making you breathe out in relief. 
“Sorry,” you cringed at yourself. 
“It’s alright; but uh, I hate to be the one to tell you this. You might want to check with your boyfriend,” he said sympathetically. 
You pushed your way through the crowd scanning every face in search of Daniel. What did he do? Is he hurt? Did he get in trouble again? Is he getting arrested? Where is he-
“Daniel?” you said eyes tearing up a bit. 
His arms were wrapped around another girl’s waist as he kissed her the way he kissed you. She practically moaned as their tongues slobbered disgustingly with each other. Their hips grinding against each other proactively as if you weren’t even there. Sadness turned to anger, and anger turned to rage, gripping Daniel’s short hairs and pulling his head away from whoever this girl was. 
“What the fuck?” the girl complained, her eyes completely bloodshot. 
“Did he tell you that he was here with his girlfriend tonight?” you're sad with gritted teeth. Daniel stumbled around still unable to register what the hell was happening. 
“Oh my god, you forreal?” she said.
“Who fucking cares? She’s a prude anyway. I got more action with you than I did her in the past, what, six months?” Daniel slurred. 
“You know what, you’re a fucking prick, dude. She deserves so much better than you; I bet your dick is small anyway,” the girl said.
“Fuck you too bitch,” Daniel spit. 
“I can’t believe you,” you said. 
“Oh, whoop-dee-doo, big fucking surprise. Babe, you’re a prude. Can’t you see it? I don’t know why I’m wasting my time with you anymore,” he practically puked out the words without any second thought. 
“Fine, then I hope you enjoy the rest of your night, you fucking asshole,” you stormed away holding in the tears; he wasn’t worth it. 
Almost three am and you just dumped your cheating lowlife boyfriend on the other side of town. Steve wasn’t answering his phone and you even wanna be near the club anymore. Walking speedily staring at your screen desperate to call an Uber home, you bumped harshly into a hard chest falling to the ground on your bum. 
“Fucking hell, I’m so sorry, darling,” the man said helping you up by your elbows.
“It’s ok. I wasn’t looking- Bucky?” 
“Oh, hey kid. What are you doing? It’s like three in the morning and you don’t live anywhere near here,” Bucky said, crossing his arms. 
“Daniel got himself kicked from the one by our apartment and Ubered here instead.”
“So where’s Daniel?” Bucky scowled; he’s always hated that guy, so did Steve.
“Probably fucking some other chick in the bathroom,” your voice cracked. 
“What?”
“It’s nothing; I just want to go home,” you cried.
“Hey, it’s ok; it’s ok. Do you wanna crash at me and Steve’s? He’s gone for the weekend with Peggy; you can stay in his room at least for the night,” Bucky offered; so that’s why Steve’s not answering his phone. 
“I don’t wanna intrude on your night. I can just call an Uber, it’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. Steve’ll kill me if he found out I left his baby sis alone in the streets of New York at three in the morning. It’s not a problem, we were just bar hopping and I stopped drinking ages ago.”
“Are you sure, Buck?”
“Of course,” he smiled warmly at you. 
“Hey, Nat!”
“What’s up?” a beautiful redhead approached you both.
“Gonna head home ; don’t do anything stupid,” he chuckled. 
“You too,” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “Catch you Monday?” 
“You’re stupid. I’ll see ya,” Bucky laughed before grabbing your hand and headed towards his apartment. 
“Thanks again, Buck. For letting me stay here tonight,” you said once you entered his apartment. 
It had been a while since you hung out at your brother’s apartment but nothing’s changed. Typical men and their inability to change even a throw pillow. You set your small bag on the couch before Bucky led you to Steve’s room. There were pictures of you and him posing at Steve’s graduation; and later your own. Pictures of Steve and Bucky at a theme park, during a bar-be-que for Steve’s birthday. So many memories that Steve held onto in his room. 
“Time really flies doesn’t it?” Bucky said, slightly startling you.
“Sorry,” he chuckled.
“No, you’re fine. But you’re right. Feels all these pictures were taken yesterday,” you reminisced. 
“I got you some clothes if you need to change; I’ll give you privacy,” Bucky said, slipping from the room briskly. 
You sat on the bed frustrated with everything. Your body was so drained from being up so early in the night, to the fight with Daniel. The past couple months with him were so awful. He was just so mean to you all the time and you didn’t know what you did wrong. Where did it go wrong? When did things shift?
"Is everything ok, darling?" Bucky asked quietly, knocking on the door when you hadn't come out after a while.
"What did I do wrong? I thought he loved me," you choked out. 
Bucky sighed as he walked over to the bed sitting beside you before engulfing you in a warm hug. You cried into his shoulder and Bucky couldn't help the anger that bubbled inside him for your excuse of a boyfriend Daniel. He never got along with the guy and now he finally has a reason to knock his teeth in.
"You didn't do anything, I know it. That prick wouldn't know love if it hit him in the face. It's his loss. You deserve so much better than that asshole. Look at me, you're so beautiful and funny and fucking adorable; any guy who can't see how perfect you are, is a dense piece of shit." 
"James," you whispered. 
His words made your heart skip and your stomach flutter. But Bucky’s always had that effect on you. Even growing up. You weren’t going to sit there and pretend that hearing his words hadn't had a deeper effect than they would’ve coming from Daniel. Sometimes you wondered what being with Bucky would be like. You’re not the first to admit how handsome Bucky was and growing up you did have quite the crush on your brother’s best friend.  
You don't know what it was, whether it was the alcohol still swimming through your veins, or just feeling so vulnerable being in Bucky's arms but you wanted him badly. You needed him, needed to feel something again. And you knew he could give it to you. You pressed your lips to his and in an instant his hands dropped to your hips pulling you impossibly close against his body. Your hands went to the back of his head as you kissed him messily. Your noses bumped and teeth clashed but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had. 
“Fuck, your brother’s gonna kill me,” Bucky mumbled, almost to himself, as he slowly laid you down on your back.
Bucky’s hands trailed up your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh every now and then as he continued kissing you passionately. Your own hands couldn’t help but tug at his shirt desperately. When he did so, your breath was completely taken away. It had been years since you’d seen Bucky without a shirt. 
Not only had he been quite skinny just like your brother back then, but not long after leaving for college with Steve he was in a bike accident that left him with ghastly scars and burns along his left arm and shoulder. Since then, it’s fair to say Bucky never really ever took his shirt off. It had taken years just for him to remove the glove he’d always wear to cover the scars on his hand.
“You’ve gotten so strong, James,” you grinned, reaching out to brush the flexed muscles running down his front. 
He simply stared at you with an anticipating and anxious expression on his face, waiting for you to state the obvious. When you didn’t, when you pulled his head down to kiss him once again, he almost cried. Bucky hadn’t been with a woman in so long, afraid of this very moment. He knew at that moment, there was no one quite like you. 
Bucky fell in love. 
“Let me take care of you, darling. You’ve been so good to me,” Bucky whispered huskily in your ear as he trailed his hand under your own shirt brushing his fingertips along the underside of your breast.
His lips pressed softly against your hot skin along your neck before standing up between your legs at the end of the bed. He pulled your shirt off then played cheekily with the straps of your bra that you still had on. You smiled back at him with the same playful stare, reaching behind you to unclasp the material. 
You could see the way Bucky’s eyes darken and his pupils widened as he stared in awe at your naked chest. Your skin bursted into chills under his hungry gaze even though you felt like you were burning up. Bucky leaned forward kissing down the valley of your breasts, nipping once in a while playfully before laying you back down. He shimmied you out of your bottoms easily, kneeling on the ground leaving you completely bare before him. 
“You are absolutely stunning, princess,” Bucky whispered, running his hands up your thighs slowly. 
“Bucky, please. I need you,” you whimpered. 
“Don’t worry, darling. I promise I’m gonna take good care of you,” he smirked devilishly. 
He pushed your knees open, eyeing the arousal that glistened between your thighs. He brought his fingers up to you slowly rubbing your slick around before finally pushing a thick and long finger past your folds. Your body shuddered solely at the foreign but pleasurable feeling, already moaning softly. 
Bucky’s cock strained through pants upon hearing your beautiful moans; they were like music to his ears. He couldn’t help the way his hips would buck into the mattress in a desperate attempt to relieve some pain from his erection. Soon after he pulled his fingers from you slowly only to thrust them further in you, curling his fingers just right. 
He brought his mouth down to you, wrapping his lips around your clit sucking harshly. You gasped and your back arched, overwhelmed with pleasure Bucky was giving you with just his mouth and fingers. All the times that you’d given yourself to your ex, he had never made you feel this good before, feel this full; let alone with his fingers. Bucky was taking his time with you solely for your own pleasure and it made your heart swoon. 
Your legs trapped Bucky’s head between your thighs, squeezing as he continued to eat you out like a starved man. Your hands went to his hair pulling on his dark locks causing Bucky to moan deeply against you. You were so close to a release; your legs shaking violently and your stomach tightening. 
“Come on, princess. Want you to come all over my face. Can you do that for me, darling?”
“Fuck!”
“Be a good girl and make a mess,” Bucky teased.
His fingers moved faster as he swirled his tongue around and over your clit just as quickly. You were becoming overwhelmed and that coil bursted in the pit of your stomach. You pushed Bucky’s face from you, shrieking with pure pleasure; Bucky’s kept the rapid pace with fingers as you fell over the edge.
“Fucking hell, that was so hot, princess,” Bucky said standing up; his fingers, arm, his chest was covered in your arousal. 
“Did I do that?” your voice trembled. 
“Because of me,” Bucky winked playfully.
“I didn’t know I could do that,” you let your head fall back on the bed as you briefly caught your breath.
Bucky grabbed his shirt that he discarded not long ago and quickly wiped his chest and arm before discarding his pants and boxers. He nearly moaned at the feeling when he finally freed his dick from the restraining garments. His hand instantly wrapped around the base before pumping himself a few times. 
You brought yourself onto your elbows momentarily ogling at the sight of Bucky completely bare before you. Your mouth practically watered at the sight. Bucky crawled over you kissing you deeply and messily; but perfectly. He pulled away and you both had goofy smiles on your faces before bursting into a fit of giggles, Bucky’s head burying into the crook of your neck.
“You’re so goddamn adorable, princess,” Bucky’s voice was muffled. 
“Bucky,” you whined. 
You couldn’t resist squirming underneath the burly man. Although, you’ve just had what was probably the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you wanted more. You needed more; you needed Bucky. 
“I got you, darling. I got you.” 
Bucky wanted to tease you more, make you beg, but he was just as desperate to feel you as you were. He propped himself up on his elbows kissing you one last time before reaching between your bodies and lining his dick with your entrance. Both you and Bucky moaned simultaneously as he stretched you out; curses spilling from his lips as incoherent moans fell from yours. 
“So fucking tight, princess. Squeezing my cock just right, aren’t ya?” he whispered.
“Fuck, I feel so full,” you whimpered.
Bucky began to slowly move his hips in and out of you deliciously. He quickly picked up the pace, jetting his hips rapidly making your moans louder. Bucky sat up on his knees and gripped your waist surely to leave bruises in your wake. This new angle surprised you and you couldn’t help the squeals and moans that left your mouth. You chanted Bucky's name like a prayer; as if it was the only word you knew. 
Bucky watched you carefully, your face contorting with pure euphoric pleasure. He couldn’t help notice the small bump in your lower belly and without a second thought, he grabbed your hands pressing them firmly over your tummy. 
“You feel how deep I am, darling? Fucking poking through,” Bucky grunted. 
“Shit! Oh, it feels so good,” you moaned. 
“That’s right, no one’s ever gonna fuck you this good again. This pussy’s mine now,” Bucky growled. 
He took one of his hands and wrapped it around your throat squeezing the sides gently but firm at the same time. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned even louder, confident that the neighbors were sure to complain in the morning. Feeling Bucky’s hand around your neck was so exhilarating; you and Daniel had never ever experimented with anything beyond a pair of handcuffs, and that particular night went horribly. 
You like being choked by Bucky. 
“Fucking slut; you like this, don’t ya?” he came down to whisper huskily against your lips. 
“Mh-hm,” you moaned with a devilish grin, your bottom lip resting between your teeth before your eyes rolled back again. 
“Such a fucking beauty you are.”
Bucky hips snapped in and out and he knew it wouldn’t be long until he needed to release.
“God, I’m close, princess,” he growled. 
His hand moved to rest on the back of your neck to pull you up so you straddled his thighs and your chest was flushed against his. Your sensitive and hardened nipples brushed against his slightly sweaty skin causing you to shudder in pleasure. Bucky’s lips attached themselves to your skin along your collar bones sucking harshly leaving purple marks all along.
Your legs shook once again as they did before and soon enough with an arched back and shout of Bucky’s name you came all over his cock. Overwhelmed with your sex, Bucky bit harshly on your shoulder in a poor attempt to muffled the loud groans and moans he elicited. Feeling your velvety walls squeeze tightly around him pushed him over the edge, coating your walls with hot ribbons on cum. 
He fell forward almost crushing you but you were too tired to complain. Bucky continued to pepper soft kisses all over your skin whispering how good you were to him, how beautiful you looked. Just absolutely showering with compliments. You felt him slowly getting off you, probably afraid he was crushing you, but you didn’t want him to leave just yet. 
“Don’t,” you whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around his body. 
“I don’t want to crush you, darling.”
“You’re not.”
Bucky chuckled before settling completely above you, careful not to make you uncomfortable. Hardly any time went by when he felt the even and soft puffs of air hitting his skin, sure that you had fallen asleep. He picked himself up and with major guilt for his best friend, picked you up from the bed and walked you to his own room. 
After he was sure you stayed sound asleep, Bucky grabbed a clean pair of boxers and hurried himself to Steve’s room again. He collected all the discarded clothes and the dirty sheets and tossed them in the washing machine to clean right away. 
He hadn’t meant to fuck his best friend’s little sister, let alone in his own room, on his own bed, but it all happened so fast. 
He went back to his room letting the clothes do it’s thing, and quickly grabbed his phone. He messaged Steve, telling him that when he got back for his weekend with Peggy, he really needed to talk to him. 
Tonight made Bucky realize how much he loved you. Growing up, you two had always been close. But he doesn’t know when he stopped being friendly and instead began flirting. Bucky wanted to be with you; he knew it now more than ever. 
Bucky watched your gorgeous sleeping form on his bed. He smiled to himself before opening the window; the sun already rising and those beautiful golden rays seeped through the glass window, making you look angelic. He crawled into bed cuddling flushed against your naked body. He chuckled softly when you realized he’d returned, wiggling even further into his arms. 
“I love you, Bucky,” you mumbled. 
“I love you, too, darling.”
And he really, and truly did love you. As did you love him. 
=======================
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513 notes · View notes
lunaastoir · 3 years
Note
Hi! I really enjoy your writing so is it alright if i request xiao, diluc, childe with an idol s/o where one of their old stalkers come back or they just recently had a stalker in general but with how busy they were since they’re an idol they don’t even notice? And something bad happens (i cant think of anything</3) Thank you very much !!
hi anon!! a million apologies since this is so late but i hope you like the fic <3
there also aren’t any explicit details for anything bad happening - i briefly touched on subjects that you may not have control over, i hope that’s ok! 
warning (?): struggled a bit on this prompt so i apologize in advance if this isn’t my best work LMAOO
gn! reader
tw: hints of assault, slight angst, very light abuse if you squint
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xiao
now xiao is a very observant man but he's also extremely busy keeping liyue safe
he makes it a point to always come to your shows even if you don't actively see him bc he cares a lot abt you and he enjoys listening to your music ‼️
it's normal for him to sometimes get lost between his own world of demonslaying and the world he shares w you
so one night, he's hanging on the rafters of a house with the perfect view of your singing
everything goes smoothly, he sets his spear down while lightly swaying his head to the music
the concert ends and fans disperse after you say your farewells
a night like this is rare since for once, xiao can walk home w you back to the inn sweet boy really cleared out his schedule for you huh
you're unsurprised when you see him materialize next to you, opting to flash him a smile and a hello
his cheeks are lightly flushed as he crosses his arms before talking quietly about how well you did
he relishes in the wide smile you give him as a result of his praise and he lets the corners of his lips curve upwards slightly
the quiet bustle of the harbor seemed to slow down as the night grew longer
since this was a fairly large concert, you had boxes among boxes of equipment so xiao decided to make your life easier by quickly flying them to their appropriate locations
when he got back however, he was surprised to see you talking animatedly with someone
he didn't think anything was wrong until he saw the person trap you between the stage and words filtered into his ears
your back was painfully pressed against the stage wall as you defiantly met their gaze. after xiao had left, they had immediately come over to you: first introducing themselves as a fan and making amiable conversation, before divulging in personal details of your life that made your skin crawl. you weren’t helpless, you always had your weapon on hand regardless of whether you were performing or not. the way they pushed you against the wall however, made it near impossible to summon your sword should you need it. 
they leered down at you while balancing an arm against the wall next to your head. you had dealt with things like this before so you weren’t overly worried; you could defend yourself. you almost felt pity for the person in front of you as they asked for your number with a sadistic grin, disgusting words tumbling off of their lips. however, that was before you felt their cold fingers idly make their way to your stomach and you felt your breath hitch. oh no
the telltale sound of whooshing alerted you of xiao’s presence, and the press of the tip of his spear against their jugular brought you relief. 
“back away” he tightly growled while his golden eyes narrowed into slits. they stared at him in shock before holding their hands up and moving to step a foot away from you. 
“farther” he motioned with his spear before stepping in front of you as you attempted to collect yourself. 
“ok ok, i’m far away can you put your spear down now?” 
“no.” 
you mentally cursed as you watched the two of them glare at each other. this was supposed to be a carefree night but this unfortunate twist made the air thick with tension. you could feel the anger radiate off of xiao in waves and in an effort to deescalate the situation, you spoke. 
“i’m glad to meet such an...avid fan but i’m sorry the two of us must get going now” you hastily said before attempting to grab xiao’s hand and walk off past them. 
the next words had you halt your steps as they divulged their secret. 
words painted in careless arrogance with hints of violet overconfidence flew out of the person’s mouth - “judging from the weeks i’ve been following you, it didn’t seem like you had a boyfriend”
at the mere mention of prolonged stalking, xiao immediately lunged to pull you behind him. god, he didn’t kill mortals but he swore if he plunged his spear into this human being right here, no one would even blink twice considering how low of a person they were. 
“if i ever see you near them again, i will not hesitate to kill you. i won’t blink twice, i already have blood on my hands.” he ground out.
at the threat, the person grudgingly turned their back to you before leaving the two of you alone in the quiet harbor. 
you carefully reached a hand out to touch your boyfriend’s shoulder, but stopped after you saw the expression on his face. the mix of rage, sadness, and anguish imprinted his features as you watched his chest rapidly rise and fall - a result of his emotional battle. 
“i’m sorry i didn’t notice them before. i should’ve been paying more attention to you” he whispered before silently striding away from your grasp 
you knew that no matter how many reassurances you gave him about how, “it’s not your fault xiao, i didn’t notice them either” he would still blame himself. 
he was supposed to protect you right? so why couldn’t he sense the danger beforehand? what would’ve happened if he wasn’t there?
it’s still a learning process for him to realize that things happen, and he inevitably couldn’t be there to save you from everything. he needs time to understand and adjust. you’re willing to wait, patiently helping him through it. why? because love is worth it. 
god im sorry this ended up kinda sad whoops
diluc 
i swear everytime i say i’m a childe simp diluc kinda wrecks me
ahem anyways onto the hc!
he’s kinda never around but similar to xiao he will overwork himself to clear out an hour or two just to watch your concerts 
he’ll always stand off to the side too so if you tilt your head while you’re singing you can spy his red hair 
you always flash him the sweetest smile and this man blushes like CRAZY before quickly lifting his hand up to give you a thumbs up 
everyone watching the both of you like 😍😦
people think it’s the cutest thing i swear like c’mon the elusive “bachelor of mondstadt” being seen in public supporting you??? wow pls can we share him
he walks with you back to the winery, the entire time linking his hands with yours while gushing about your performance 
1939248/10 it’s literally the sweetest thing 
the next day however, adelinde brings you a pink letter addressed to you 
he doesn’t pry because it’s addressed to you and it’s your business but as the letters start coming by everyday, he starts to grow curious 
one day he straight up just asks you about it
“hey, you know those pink letters you keep getting? who are they from?”
you laugh slightly at his bashfulness and respond with a “just some overexcited fan” and he smiles before kissing your forehead 
he loves that people are noticing your talent 
loves it! until you get stalked by the same person who wrote you those letters while you were shopping!
diluc knows something’s wrong when you rush into angel’s share panicked after not returning his usual smile. 
“darling? are you ok?” he asks worriedly before quickly setting down the glass he was cleaning to move towards you. 
the widening of your eyes as you looked behind you at the sounds of someone else entering was all he needed to swiftly step in front of you, blocking their gaze of your face. 
the slightly panicked look in your eyes before you hurriedly whispered, “they’re following me” made diluc glance at them subtly out of the corner of his eye. he watched as they walked over to find a seat next to the bar, seemingly ready to order a drink. he quietly asked if you would like to sit in the room reserved for the employees, away from their prying eyes. your hasty nod was all the confirmation he needed for him to let you access the door behind him. 
the night went by fairly smoothly with kaeya’s usual teasing and venti’s usual begging for alcohol. diluc’s eyes narrowed however, when the person seemed to ask him questions regarding you. things like, “i heard you’re dating y/n... they’re amazing, how long have you been together?” and “do they live with you at dawn winery?” diluc answered these questions as short as he could, trying to convey with his body language that he truly did not want to talk to them. 
everything was going well until he made the mistake of leaving the bar unattended. he had briefly forgotten about your residence in the room behind him as his mind immediately gravitated to breaking up a brawl. when he returned, the half drunk glass of liquor combined with the person’s absence from their seat, caused sparks of worry to light up inside his chest. 
turning to the door, he knocked once. 
“is everything alright in there love?”
the sounds of things rustling about and the occasional muffled voice had him opening the door quickly. he saw you with your arm being held tightly in their grasp, your mouth muffled with their hand, while you strained against them by pulling at your arm. 
diluc immediately made his way over to you, quickly pulling your arm away before letting you enter into his embrace. 
“get out.” the venomous words clawed their way out of his throat as he looked at them with eyes that screamed hatred. his blood was boiling as his mind replayed the scene; your scared expression and their greedy eyes. 
diluc didn’t need to repeat himself twice as they ran out, trying not to trip over crates of wine. he made a mental note to find out who they were in order to make sure they never came near you ever again. 
he quickly looked down at your form, relaxing slightly at the sight of your tentative smile. “my knight in shining armor” you joked before softly nuzzling your head into his shoulder. the anger had yet to dissipate from his veins, and although he knew you were still shaken up, he was sure you would be fine. 
a pink letter placed on the table next to you caught his eye, and he made sure to quickly pocket it as he led you out, gently jesting with you about the “unnecessary amount of wine barrels in here, diluc this is a safety hazard!” 
he would deal with this person later. 
childe
ayo AYO ITS THE TOY SALESMAN
ok tbh he’s very rarely around so he unfortunately cannot make it to all of your shows 
dw tho, he will try his hardest to be there for the ones he’s in town for bc what is he if not your number one hype king??? 
ok kinda creepy! alert 
he’s tasked two of his subordinates to keep watch over you whenever he’s out of the harbor
it’s not anything creepy,,, he just gets extremely worried abt you and wants to make sure you’re safe 
sO when he gets a ransom note??? he’s understandably confused but also very much freaked out 
bc did they not know who he was??? the fact that they thought they could get away with holding you captive was quite honestly kind of funny to him 
very stressed and angry tho - hides it behind a facade of smiles but he’s raging 
takes him only a few hours to track you down bc he had everyone and i mean EVERYONE looking for you 
the note crunched in his hand as the harbinger made his way towards windrise. his pace was erratic, long legs rushing towards the small cave his agents had found. they were bordering the perimeter of the enclosure, careful to not alert you or your captor of their presence. childe’s subordinate head had calmly stated that childe need not come out to rescue you, the situation was under control and they could do it for him. however, childe’s sharp gaze along with his sickly sweet words of “thanks but no. i’m coming out to see this sorry asshole for myself” had the agent backing away apologizing. he wanted to see the look on this person’s face before he shoved their sorry ass into the abyss himself. 
as he reached the opening of the cave, he glanced over his shoulder at his head agent; a silent warning to keep the area sealed. his blue eyes glinted with a thirst for blood before making his way into the cave, sealing off the exit with his body. 
“well well, playing games with the love of my life are we?” 
his teasing words reached your ears as your eyes immediately found the face of your boyfriend. you weren’t horribly scared, just a little shaken up and sore from the bindings on your wrists. relief coursed through your body at the sight of him. you needn’t put in your plan of getting out of these bindings to fight your captor yourself anymore. 
childe’s eyes quickly scanned over your frame, making sure you weren’t hurt. at the state of you completely unharmed, the harbinger let his heart calm down slightly. you were completely ok. 
“wait a little longer, love? i promise this will be over soon”
the wink he sent you had you lightly rolling your eyes at his antics before he directed his attention back to your kidnapper. if your captor wasn’t scared before, they were certainly shaking in their boots now at the sight of childe’s twin hydro blades rotating playfully in his hands. 
“listen, all i want is the money-”
“and all i want is your head” 
your boyfriend smiled after cutting them off. the severity of the situation truly seemed to sink in at that moment before pleas of mercy fell from your captor’s lips, desperate to escape the bloodthirsty gaze of the harbinger. childe’s eyes flickered over to yours where you sat there, with your head ferociously shaking. a silent “no.” he sighed before swiftly bringing his arm up to hit your captor on the head, effectively knocking them out cold. 
his hands worked at the ropes holding you and he gingerly rubbed at your bruised wrists. you silently thanked the archons he could never say no to you. archons forbid what would've happened if you hadn’t said anything. while you were explaining what happened, the young man quickly scooped you up in his arms before walking out of the cave. 
you playfully hit his shoulder while muttering “drama queen” but you stopped when you saw his face morph into an expression of seriousness. you had informed him on the situation about your captor revealing themselves to be a recent stalker of yours, completely oblivious to the look of frustration on his face as he freed you from your bondages. 
“i was scared you know.” he quietly divulged. “i knew that it wasn’t anything extremely serious but i... i was still scared”
you swore as you looked at him in that moment, he had turned ten again. the youth of his face betraying his vulnerability. 
you quietly hummed before tangling your fingers in his hair. “i hope you know it wasn’t your fault. it wasn’t anyone’s fault. not even the two fatui agents who you sent to stalk me while you were away.”
he quietly laughed at that before mentally filing away a reminder for a lecture to those two agents in the near future. 
“i’m just glad you’re safe. i know you can save yourself but i’ll always be here. i still wish you would let me take care of your asshole kidnapper myself though.” he pouted jokingly. 
“i’m sure the millelith will lock them up for a long time.” you laughed sweetly. 
his usual smile reappeared at your antics. maybe he didn’t get to beat your captor up and do...much worse. however at the end of the day, your smile was still intact regardless of what happened. that’s all he wanted. 
391 notes · View notes
junghelioseok · 4 years
Text
clandestine. | 01
↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.
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◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 10.3k [1/6]
notes: this fic was originally going to be a oneshot, but i changed my mind and decided i didn’t want to kill tumblr with a totally unnecessary 50k jk fic so 🤷🏻‍♀️ here is part one of a fic that 100% only came about because @puellaigmotum​ coerced me into it like 2 years ago (lmao rip 💀) and also bc i have zero self-control and am hopelessly h*rny for jungkook these days and don’t look at me i don’t wanna talk about it okay??? 🙈
warnings: jk’s massive noona kink, some ~under the table~ action, too much detail about jk’s dumb veiny arms probably, but at least he doesn’t have tattoos bc i started writing this before he got them and i don’t need to torture myself anymore than i already do!!!
⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 
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It’s always been easy to spot your brother in a crowd. Passengers flood off the train, jostling around you on their way to the station’s exit, but even in the swarm you can perfectly see Jimin’s golden head of hair bobbing its way toward you, a deep scowl etched across his face. “You’re late,” he says in lieu of a greeting, his honey brown eyes raking over your scuffed suitcase distastefully as he comes to a stop a few feet away.
“And you’re just as impatient as ever,” you retort, coming to a stop before him with your luggage in tow. “Think you can lord it over me since you can drive now?”
“Don’t forget that I’m your ride home,” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I could just as easily leave you here to fend for yourself.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” you tell him, raising a brow in silent challenge.
Jimin stares down at you unflinchingly, and you stare right back. The tension stretches between you, taut and heavy, until every passing second feels like a light year. Around you, the crowd slowly dissipates, but still you remain—two motionless statues locked in a wordless struggle. From somewhere overhead, a monotone voice announces the next train departure times.
Jimin’s mouth twitches. You blink, twice in quick succession.
And then your little brother breaks into a grin—one that’s so wide you fear his mouth may detach from his face entirely. An answering smile settles across your face as you watch him throw his head back, dissolving into laughter that you can’t help but echo.
“Damn it, Chim!” you say, instinctively grabbing onto his wrist when it looks like he might fall over. “Your poker face still sucks.”
“I’ve gotten better!” Jimin immediately defends. “I mean, you’ve got to admit that, right?”
“Nope.” You sigh and hold a hand over your head so you can measure your height against his ever-so-slightly taller frame. “Same old annoying kid I grew up with. Seriously, have you grown at all in the past year?”
“Whoa, too far, Noona.” Jimin takes ahold of both of your cheeks, pinching them affectionately. “You’re only a year older than me, you know. Besides, I’ve been taller than you for two years now!”
“I’m pretty sure hitting puberty at age seventeen isn’t something to be proud of,” you reply, pulling away from him with a mock grimace and giggling when he lets out an offended squeak. Playfully, you reach up to ruffle his hair, scrubbing your knuckles just a little too roughly against his skull.
“Noonaaa,” he complains, drawing out the last syllable until he runs out of air. “Jeez, you haven’t even been back for an hour yet and you’re already being mean to me. When do you go back to Seoul again?”
“Three weeks,” you reply, narrowing your eyes. “But I can and will make these three weeks hell for you. Don’t test me.”
Jimin snickers and drapes his arm over your shoulders. He picks up your suitcase with the other hand, and you thank him with another, gentler hair ruffle as the two of you start toward the exit of the train station. “College hasn’t changed you one bit.”
“And senior year hasn’t changed you,” you say, letting him guide you outside and breathing in the balmy summer evening air. Jimin’s brow furrows as he tries to remember where he’s parked, and you kindly take your suitcase back when he nods decisively and heads toward the left side of the lot. “You excited to graduate?”
He sighs, fumbling in his pocket for the keys as the two of you approach the car. “It’s going to suck. Your ceremony was boring as hell last year.”
“Wow, rude.”
Jimin looks up from where he’s unlocking the driver’s side door. “Am I wrong, though?”
You flash him a grin as he unlocks the remaining doors, heaving your suitcase into the backseat before sliding into the passenger seat beside him. “Nope. But afterward, you’ll be done with high school forever.”
“Thank god.” Your brother rakes a hand through his hair, mussing it further as he carefully starts the ignition and checks his mirrors with all the diligence of a new driver. Once satisfied, he pulls out of the parking space, meandering his way out of the lot and onto the main street.
The ride back to your childhood home is a short one, full of familiar storefronts and landmarks that dredge up all sorts of fond memories. You hadn’t expected your first year of university—away from your family and your hometown—to make you quite so emotional. But before you know it, Jimin is making the turn into your neighborhood, and you can’t stop the way your eyes begin to well up when you see your house in the distance.
As if reading your mind, Jimin glances at you as he pulls into the driveway. “Feel good to be home?”
You nod, blinking back tears. “Feels great.”
He grins. Pulling the key from the ignition, he climbs out of the car and grabs your suitcase, waving for you to head inside. Eagerly, you start toward the front door, but you barely make it halfway up the driveway when it bursts open, revealing your father standing there with open arms and an enormous grin. He’s just as tall as you remember, and looks exactly the same save a few more strands of silver lacing his hair. All of a sudden, you’re a little girl again, running up to give him a hug and giggling madly when he tries to scoop you up like he used to do so many years ago.
“Hi Dad,” you greet when he gives up and sets you back down on two feet. “Where’s Mom?”
“Cooking up a storm,” he replies, chortling. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he leads you into the kitchen where your mother is hunched over the stove with a spatula, delicious aromas wafting up from the array of pots and pans in front of her. “Honey, look who’s home!”
“Hi Mom,” you say, grinning when she whirls around, startled. The spatula, still dangling loosely from her hand, drips sauce onto the tiled floor, but she barely notices in her eagerness to give you a hug, throwing it down into one of the simmering pots and striding forward to wrap you up in a tight embrace.
“How was your trip?” she asks, pulling back and angling your face this way and that. “Did you sleep on the ride? Did Jimin drive safely?”
The last question draws a protesting whine from your brother, who has lugged your suitcase over the threshold and is now seated at the dining table, fiddling with a spoon. “My driving was fine, right Noona?” he says, his bottom lip jutting out into a pout.
“Yes, Chim,” you agree, laughing at the pleased expression that overtakes his face. Curiously, you walk over to the stove to inspect the food, your jaw dropping as you take in the assorted vegetables and meats. “Wow, Mom. Are you cooking for an army?”
“Jungkook is coming over for dinner,” she explains, following you over and plucking up the spatula again. “That boy has the biggest appetite I’ve ever seen—you remember, right?”
You laugh. “Of course I remember. He and Jimin were always stealing bites of my lunch at school.” Peering over at your brother, you fix him with a mock glare before walking over to the cutting board on the counter and sizing up the pile of onions and peppers sitting there. “It’ll be nice to see him again, though. How is he doing?”
To your surprise, a new voice answers your question—a voice that somehow manages to be simultaneously familiar and foreign. “Why don’t you ask me directly, Noona?” it says, and you whirl around, wide-eyed, to face the newcomer.
This can’t possibly be Jeon Jungkook, is your first thought upon seeing the young man standing in the kitchen doorway. The Jungkook you knew in high school was a scrawny kid—all gangly limbs and a nose that was too big for his face. The Jungkook you knew wore oversized white t-shirts that made him look even younger than he was, a look that was only enhanced by round wire-rimmed glasses that always gave him a look of permanent astonishment. The Jungkook you knew was nowhere near this tall, and definitely not this broad.
But this Jungkook—this Jungkook takes up nearly the entire doorframe with his bulk. Dark eyes stare at you from beneath equally dark hair, his gaze unhindered by his old glasses. A cobalt blue shirt stretches tight over his chest, and you swallow when you notice just how much the buttons are straining to contain the muscle underneath. Black jeans and simple black sneakers complete his outfit, and the entire look is so jarringly different from what you’re used to that you are left momentarily speechless, gaping like a fish out of water. Vaguely, you wonder when he got his ears pierced.
And then Jungkook—or at least, the young man claiming to be Jungkook—takes three steps forward, his entire face melting into a crinkly-eyed grin. You catch a glimpse of the adorably prominent front teeth that always made him look like a rabbit, and that’s all it takes to break the spell.
“Jungkookie!” you exclaim, darting forward to greet him. “It’s been so long!”
“Hi, Noona,” he replies, his grin widening at your approach. In an instant, he has you wrapped up in an embrace, easily lifting you off the floor in a display of strength that would’ve had a lesser woman swooning. His hands curl firmly around your waist, and you have no choice but to wrap yours around his nape, squeaking in protest when he spins you in a full circle.
“Kookie!” you gasp, wriggling helplessly in his grasp and huffing when he only cackles. “Put me down!”
Obediently, Jungkook lowers you back to the ground. His hands linger on your waist until he’s certain that both your feet are planted firmly, and it’s only then that he pulls back to get a good look at your face. “You know I’d never drop you, right?” he asks innocently.
“As if I can trust anything that comes out of your mouth,” you retort with a laugh. “I’ve seen you scam your way out of detention with those pretty doe eyes. Don’t try me, kid.”
Jungkook snorts. “Kid? I’m not that much younger than you. Plus I’m older than Jimin, y’know.”
“By a month!” your brother protests from the dining room, his blond head popping up from behind the vase of daisies serving as a centerpiece.
“Month and a half,” Jungkook stage-whispers to you, cupping a hand and bringing his mouth to your ear conspiratorially. His breath tickles your cheek, and you swat him away with a giggle that becomes a full-on laugh when Jimin lets out an offended cry and rises to his feet. Striding over, he pokes Jungkook squarely in the chest, his eyes narrowed.
“I invite you over to my house and this is the thanks I get?”
Your dad chooses that moment to interrupt from the living room. “Your house? When exactly did you start paying rent, Jimin?”
Jimin’s jaw drops. “Are you taking his side?” he asks in disbelief, glaring at Jungkook when he starts laughing. “I’m your son!”
“I’m your father,” your dad replies.
“And I’m your mother,” your mom pipes up, brandishing a spoon. “And I’m telling all of you to get your butts over to that dining table in the next ten seconds, or no dinner for any of you.”
Your dad, Jimin, and Jungkook immediately fall silent, cowed by her proclamation. Grinning, you join your mother at the counter, grabbing a handful of spoons and accepting the platter of kimchi she hands over. “Direct as always, Mom.”
She laughs and picks up a bowl of rice. “To deal with men like them? You have to be.”
Food in hand, you make your way into the dining room. The table is set, the steaming food arranged neatly in the center, and you watch as your mother takes her seat next to Jimin and leaves you to sit beside Jungkook on the opposite side. Your father beams from his spot at the head of the table, glancing at each of you in turn before turning and giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze.
“Look at you kids, all sitting at the same table again.” He sighs, and you’re certain that he’s thinking back to the last time all of you were together—well over a year ago, at this point. “It’s a shame that your parents couldn’t join us, though, Jungkook.”
Jungkook nods. “Yeah, they told me to apologize on their behalf. They have tickets for the theatre tonight, and couldn’t get a refund on them.”
Your father laughs and waves the apology off. “I’m sure we’ll catch them next time,” he says. “Pretty hard to avoid each other when you live next door, isn’t it?”
“Definitely,” Jungkook agrees with a chuckle. Then he turns to you, the silver hoops in his ears glinting in the light from the overhead chandelier. “I’m sure they’ll drop by soon to see you, Noona. Mom wants to hear all about Seoul—I think she’s worried about sending me so far away by myself.”
“Junghyun stayed in Busan for university, didn’t he?” your mom asks.
Jungkook nods. “Yep, he still lives downtown and everything. He wanted to come over tonight, but his work wouldn’t let him take the time off.”
Your mom sighs. “That’s such a shame. Is he at least attending your graduation?”
“He’s driving in the day after tomorrow for the ceremony,” Jungkook confirms. Then he pauses, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. His gaze flickers down to the plate of sweet potatoes on the other side of the table, and before he can even open his mouth, your mother is already passing him the plate. He thanks her with an embarrassed chuckle but digs into the food nonetheless, and everyone else takes it as a sign to follow suit. You’re in the middle of scooping rice into your bowl when Jimin speaks up again.
“So what’s it like living in Seoul?” he asks, his cheeks bulging with pork belly. “You have roommates, right?”
“Suitemates,” you correct. “But yeah, I live with three other people. Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jennie are all great though, so it hasn’t been a problem.”
Jungkook pauses mid-chew to gape at you. “You live with guys?”
“My building’s co-ed,” you explain. “We all have separate bedrooms, but we share a common space and bathrooms.”
Your mother—on the lookout for any potential future grandchildren, as always—perks up. “Namjoon and Hoseok sound like nice boys. Are you friends?”
“Yes, Mom,” you sigh. “We’re friends. Just friends.” And then before she can ask about whether or not any other boys have caught your eye, you quickly turn back to your brother. “So, what’s your plan for next year? Are you and Jungkook living together?”
Jimin hums. “Yep, that’s the plan. Unless you want to live with us too, Noona.”
You laugh. “Why, so I can protect you from all the bullies like I did in elementary school?”
He flashes you a cheeky grin. “More like so I can protect you from all the weird college guys. Who’s this Hoseok guy anyway? Do I need to beat him up?”
“Please don’t beat up Hobi,” you entreaty, giggling when he pretends to crack his knuckles. “Or Joon!” you add quickly when he remains undeterred and makes to stand up from the table to defend your honor. Balling up your napkin, you throw it at him, and both of you burst into hysterics when your makeshift weapon bounces off his forehead and straight into his glass of water. The rest of dinner passes in a haze of similarly playful antics and happy chatter, and by the time the last bowl is scraped clean, it feels as if you’d never even left.
“I’ll do the dishes,” you volunteer, standing up and gathering up the empty platters. Jungkook and Jimin are quick to jump to your aid, collecting any utensils that you missed, and you offer them a grateful smile as they follow you into the kitchen.
“Let me do the washing, Noona.” Jungkook rolls up the sleeves of his cobalt blue shirt to expose a familiar silver watch glinting on his left wrist—a watch that his father handed down to him when he was sixteen, and that had been worn by his grandfather before him. You still remember the day he’d first worn it to school, proudly displaying it even though the band was too loose around his narrow wrist.
He’s grown into it now, you realize. The watch no longer flops around like it used to, and sits snugly in place instead. Your eyes trace the silver buckle on the inside of his wrist before trailing up to follow the network of thin, branching veins in his forearm, admiring the smooth flex of muscle as he grabs a sponge from the wire rack hanging above the sink and squirts some dish soap onto the surface.
“I’ll dry,” Jimin chirps, selecting a towel and brandishing it. “Noona, do you want to help me? We’ll finish faster that way.”
Nodding, you pull another towel out from the drawer and rejoin the two boys at the sink. Jungkook washes quickly and efficiently, and you determinedly avoid staring at the way water trickles along the patchwork veins on his hands as he gives you bowl after bowl to dry.
It doesn’t take long for all the dishes to be washed and dried. The three of you take the time to put them back into the proper cabinets before bidding your parents a good night, heading out onto the back porch. Falling back into old routines feels like second nature, so you plop down onto the steps without hesitation and grin when Jungkook takes a seat beside you.
“Wait, I almost forgot!” Jimin exclaims, bouncing up from where he was beginning to sit down next to Jungkook. “I bought some beer earlier and left it in the trunk. Be right back!”
You watch your brother run off, his floppy blond hair a stark contrast with the deep blue evening sky. In seconds, he’s disappeared around the corner of the house, leaving you and Jungkook alone on the porch steps.
“Chim really hasn’t changed one bit,” you remark with a laugh, turning toward your dark-haired companion.
Jungkook chuckles. “The kid loves his alcohol, that’s for sure.”
“Please.” You elbow him in the ribs. “I know you’re just as bad as he is.”
“Maybe,” he concedes with another chuckle. “But come on, Noona, you can’t tell me you don’t enjoy a drink every now and then. What about all that college stress?”
You hum, leaning back on your hands and staring up at the sky where the full moon is just beginning to rise, surrounded by a smattering of stars peeking through the velvety darkness of night. “I never said that I didn’t enjoy a drink, or five.” Jungkook laughs at your remark, and you smile before letting out a soft sigh. “I’m glad Jimin got the beer, though. Maybe I’ll finally be able to stop stressing out about my internship.”
That sobers Jungkook up immediately, his eyes widening as he peers down at you and lays a gentle hand on your back. “Are you still worried? You already got the job, didn’t you?”
You nod slowly, thinking back to the job offer that you had accepted at the end of the semester. It had been difficult finding a company in your desired field that offered internships to first-year students, but with dogged persistence and a lot of luck, you’d managed to snag a summer position. It isn’t due to start for another three weeks, however, and while you’re grateful for the chance to visit your family, part of you also wishes that you didn’t have to wait such a long time. “I just have no idea what to expect, you know? The only jobs I’ve ever had were in retail and food service, and that was all ages ago. I don’t feel ready at all.”
A strong arm settles across your shoulders, and you look up to see Jungkook gazing down at you with something indiscernible sparkling in his deep brown eyes. “You’re gonna be amazing,” he murmurs, his voice whisper-soft. “You know that, right? You always are. This won’t be any different.”
And you believe him. Every detail of his face is bathed in silvery moonlight—the gentle slope of his nose, the sharp angle of his jaw, the little scar high on his cheekbone—and you wonder how you never realized how handsome he is before now. And maybe it’s the low, soothing timbre of his voice, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you—with unspeakable tenderness and gentle affection glimmering in his irises—but you lean in before you can even realize what you’re doing. You don’t look away, and neither does he.
Jungkook’s gaze drops, trailing down the slope of your cheeks until it lands on the curve of your mouth. He hesitates for a split second, his throat bobbing harshly as he swallows and sucks in a breath.
And then his lips are pressing against yours—soft and tentative and just a little bit chapped. Your eyes flutter shut almost on instinct, your body relaxing as he shifts and pulls you a little more firmly against him. Slowly, his arm finds its way to the curve of your waist and settles there. Your fingers curl around his nape, carding through his silky hair.
It’s only when Jungkook’s tongue darts out to run along the seam of your lips that reality comes crashing back down, your stomach plummeting down to somewhere around your toes as you wrench away from his embrace. “Kookie!” you gasp, your breathing labored. “We can’t!”
Jungkook blinks, momentarily entrancing you with the way the stars reflect in his gaze like glittering diamonds. “Why not?” he asks, reaching out for you again. “You kissed me back, didn’t you?”
Squeaking, you bat his hands away. “Jungkook, no! We can’t! You’re Jimin’s best friend, and god, this is all kinds of weird, and—“
The dark-haired young man looks like he wants to protest more, but the sound of footsteps coming back around the house sends both of you scooting back to your original positions on the porch steps. Jimin appears two seconds later, plopping down beside Jungkook cheerfully and dropping a six-pack of beer at his feet.
“What’d I miss?” he asks, seemingly oblivious to the tension lingering in the air as he pops open a bottle and hands it to you.
“Nothing,” you say immediately, accepting the proffered beer. The cool glass bottle is a welcome relief, and you hurriedly take a long sip when your mind unwillingly begins to wander back to just how warm and soft your dark-haired companion’s lips had been.
Jungkook is much slower to respond to Jimin’s question. His shoulders slump as he reaches down to grab a drink of his own, twisting the cap open viciously and taking a swig. “Yeah,” he mutters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Nothing at all.”
Luck must be on your side, because Jimin doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss as he grabs a beer for himself and flops backward, resting his weight on his elbows as he gazes up at the night sky. “It’s nice out,” he remarks, looking utterly at ease.
You are anything but. Beside you, Jungkook is sipping pensively on his beer, and you are painfully aware of the heat radiating off his body. Jimin is still chattering away, rambling about whatever pops into his head, and you take the opportunity to sneak a glance at Jungkook. His face is cast in silvery luminescence from the moon, his mouth pulled down into a deep, contemplative frown—and you are once again forced to shake off thoughts of how nice it felt to have his mouth pressed against yours.
This is Jeon Jungkook, you tell yourself sternly. Friend, neighbor, and Jimin’s best friend in the entire universe. You kissed him, sure, but it was a mistake. A moment of weakness. And it won’t happen again.
You repeat that over and over, silently reciting it in your head like a mantra, until, at last, you finally start to believe it.
///
You’re in the middle of brewing a fresh pot of coffee after a lazy morning spent sleeping in when you spot Jungkook outside through the kitchen window. He’s standing in the yard in a sleeveless white tee, wiping at his forehead with the back of his hand as he thoughtfully regards the row of hedges that serves as the property line between your house and the Jeons’ house next door. In his other hand is a shovel, and you can’t help the way your gaze automatically traces his exposed biceps, admiring the way they flex when he finally selects a spot and begins digging.
“Is the coffee done yet, Noona?”
Jimin’s voice yanks your attention away from your gardening neighbor, your vision overtaken by a mess of fluffy blond bedhead as he sneaks into the space between you and the counter and obnoxiously cuts you off from the pot of fresh brew. “Hey!” you protest, but Jimin just gives you a cheeky wink before grabbing a mug and pouring out a generous helping of piping hot coffee. After a moment’s thought, he pours you a mug as well, handing it over with an exaggerated bow.
You roll your eyes, but accept the warm cup nonetheless. Following him into the living room, you make yourself comfortable on the couch as he flops down onto the carpeted floor and turns on the television. Idly, he begins flipping through the channels in search for something to watch, and you endure random snippets of the morning news, a cheesy soap opera, and a series of infomercials before sighing and rising to your feet again. “I’m getting some food. Want some toast, Chimchim?”
“Mmm. Sure.”
Slowly, you meander your way back into the kitchen. Your mother is standing at the counter stirring sugar into her coffee, and you smile as you walk up to join her. “Morning, Mom.”
“Good morning, sweetie,” she says, taking a careful sip of her drink. “Did you sleep well?”
“Like a log,” you reply with a grin. Grabbing the loaf of bread off the counter, you pull out a few slices and shove them in the toaster. “Do you want toast? I’m making some for me and Chimchim.”
“Just one slice for me,” she says, opening up the dish cabinet and pulling out three plates. Obligingly, you hand her one of the two freshly toasted slices and drop the other onto your plate. Popping some more bread into the toaster, you’re just about to grab the jam from the fridge when there’s a knock on the door.
“I’ll get it!” Jimin yells from the living room. You hear the soft pad of his footsteps in the hallway and the low creak of the front door as it swings open—and then your brother is snorting out a laugh at whoever is on your doorstep. “Dude, why are you covered in dirt?”
You’re beginning to have a sneaking suspicion as to who your guest is, and it’s confirmed when your brother’s question is answered.
“I’m helping Mom plant some hydrangeas out back,” Jungkook’s voice explains, his tall figure stepping into view a moment later. “Can you come help me lift the bushes?”
Jimin rolls his eyes. “You could’ve just texted me.”
“Who knows if you would’ve answered?” Jungkook asks, laughing. “Knowing you, you’d just leave me on read. Besides—” and here he glances over at you, dark eyes glimmering with an emotion that you can’t quite pinpoint, “—I wouldn’t get to see two of my favorite ladies if I didn’t stop by.”
Jimin pretends to vomit at the line, but your mother laughs delightedly as Jungkook takes another step into the foyer and flashes her a winning grin. “Good morning, Jungkookie,” she greets him. “Have you eaten breakfast yet? {Name} was just making some toast, and we’ve got fresh coffee.”
Jungkook’s gaze slides over to you again, taking in the flannel pajama pants and oversized t-shirt you’re wearing. “Thanks, Mrs. Park,” he says, though his eyes never leave yours. “I ate already, but coffee sounds wonderful.”
You are beginning to feel increasingly vulnerable as Jungkook continues looking unblinkingly in your direction. Thankfully, your mom pipes up, drawing his attention away with a decisive clap of her hands. “Coffee it is, then!” she says brightly. “{Name}, why don’t you grab Jungkook a cup?”
Hurriedly, you turn toward the cabinets, trying your best to ignore Jungkook as he chats comfortably with your family. Your success is limited though, and you can feel his penetrating stare lingering on your back even as you fetch a mug and fill it up to the brim.
“Noona.” Jungkook’s voice comes from behind you, much closer than you remember him being. “Can I have some cream and sugar, please?”
Somehow, you manage to reply without stammering. “Yeah. Sure.” Dumping some of the excess coffee into the sink, you spoon in some sugar and give it a quick stir. Just as you turn toward the refrigerator for the cream, a strong arm cuts you off.
“I got it, Noona,” Jungkook murmurs, backing you up against the counter as he tucks the little white carton into your outstretched hand. His proximity has your heart skipping several beats, and you almost drop the carton entirely when he speaks again in a husky whisper, his mouth at the shell of your ear. “Just a little bit, please.”
You are acutely aware of the heat radiating off of his body, warming your back and flushing your cheeks. Quietly, you open up the carton and pour a splash of cream into his mug, the swirl of white melding with the dark liquid within. “Is—is that enough?”
Jungkook reaches around you to open up the silverware drawer, grabbing a spoon and giving the coffee a stir. “That’s perfect,” he purrs, his hot breath stirring gooseflesh on the back of your neck.
This close to him, it’s easy to forget where you are and who you’re with, but you somehow manage to regain enough of your senses to wrench away and reclaim your personal space. “G-great,” you stammer, picking up the mug and shoving it into his hands, determinedly ignoring the ripple of his arm muscles as he accepts. “Um. Chim. Did you want your toast?”
“Yes, please,” Jimin says, barely glancing up from where he’s made himself comfortable at the kitchen island, idly playing on his phone.
Your mother pokes her head around the doorframe of the adjoining laundry room, where she has clearly started a fresh load if the sound of splashing water is anything to go by. “Don’t make your sister do all of the work, Jimin. Go help her—it’s your food, isn’t it?”
Obligingly, Jimin hops off the stool and grabs his favorite jar of jam, joining you at the counter. He takes the slice of toast you offer him, slathering it messily and taking an enormous bite. “Thanks for breakfast, Noona,” he says, blowing you an exaggerated kiss. “Ready, Kook?”
Jungkook raises his mug of coffee in acknowledgement. “Ready.” Then his gaze flickers back to you, twinkling with silent mirth. “And Noona—thanks. The coffee’s delicious.”
You can’t find the words to answer. Silently, you watch him disappear out the front door with Jimin, following his dark head of hair as it bobs across the yard. His biceps flex as he gestures for Jimin to help him lift a hydrangea bush, and your eyes linger on the stretch of defined muscle, tracing the network of prominent veins running along his forearm before your brain can caution you to stop. It’s almost as if you’re on autopilot, and by the time you zone back in, your gaze has wandered too far south for your liking. Letting out an audible groan, you tear your eyes away from the mouthwatering view of his thick thighs and return to your now-cold breakfast. And you don’t think about Jeon Jungkook again, pushing the image of his broad shoulders and handsome face into the darkest recesses of your mind.
Or at least, that was the plan. Jimin comes back inside after about an hour, tracking mud through half the house before your mother reprimands him and orders him to take off his shoes. Jungkook, thankfully, chose to return to his own home as well, and you immediately banish the thought of him showering off all the sweat and grime that has no doubt accumulated on his toned body. You shove away the mental image of water slicking his golden skin and collecting in the hollows of his collarbones, and when your mind conjures up pictures of what lies south of his waist, you resist the urge to scream into the pile of freshly laundered pillowcases your mom presses into your arms.
You’re just about to head upstairs to scream into a real pillow when there’s another knock on your front door—a familiar cadence that you heard just this morning. And that’s when you realize—to your complete and utter dismay—that Jeon Jungkook isn’t done tormenting you yet. Not by a long shot.
“You again? You do realize that this isn’t your house, right?” you ask, swinging open the door and thanking whatever gods may be out there that your voice remains steady. Then you raise a brow, glancing down at his change in attire. “Wait, why are you wearing a suit?”
Jungkook gives you an infuriatingly impish grin. “Do I need a reason?” His hair is still damp from the shower, a stray lock flopping down across his forehead, and as you watch him brush it away absently, you notice that he’s holding something in his free hand.
“What’s that?” you ask curiously.
Footsteps sound from behind you, interrupting before he can answer. “Jungkookie?” your mother asks, appearing at the foot of the stairs. “I thought I heard your voice. Are you here for Jimin again?”
Jungkook flashes her a winning smile and raises the garment bag he’s holding. “No, I was actually hoping to get some advice. I’ve got my suit ready to go for graduation tomorrow, but I can’t decide which shirt looks better. My mom likes how I look in blue, but I wanted a second opinion from you and Noona.”
To your utter annoyance, your mother coos and gestures for him to come in. He’s already wearing the blue shirt—a pale periwinkle one that reminds you of a cloudless day—but your mom takes the garment bag out of his hand and unzips it to look inside. “What are your options?” she asks.
“Blue, red, and yellow,” Jungkook replies, pulling each shirt off its hanger and holding them up to his chest in turn. “What do you think, Mrs. Park?”
“The blue is lovely,” your mom says thoughtfully, straightening his collar. “But this shade of yellow looks nice too. A handsome young man like you—you really can’t go wrong with any of these.”
Jungkook grins and scratches behind his ear, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Thanks, Mrs. Park.”
The dryer chooses that moment to beep shrilly, signalling the end of its cycle, and your mother darts off to tend to it, leaving you and Jungkook alone in the living room.
“What about you, Noona?” Jungkook asks, just as you’re about to try and sneak out under the pretense of helping with the laundry. “Which shirt do you like?”
“Does it matter?” you ask. “It’s just going to be hidden underneath those horrible black trash bags they make you wear.”
He laughs. “Sure, but what about before and after? You know my mom’s going to want to take a million pictures.”
“Can’t argue there.” Resigning yourself to your fate, you put your stack of clean pillowcases down on the arm of the couch and cross your arms over your chest. “Show them to me again?”
Jungkook raises the yellow shirt, holding it up for a few seconds before swapping it out for the red. “Well?”
You pause to consider it. “Red,” you decide after some deliberation, pointing at your choice. It’s a deep crimson color—almost burgundy—and you rub the silky material between your fingertips before taking it and replacing it onto its hanger. Jungkook joins you with the yellow shirt, his arm bumping into yours as you both reach for the garment bag, and even though you flinch away from the contact, Jungkook doesn’t let you stray very far. A strong hand clamps down around your forearm, and you inhale sharply when he backs you up against the wall and cages you in with his solid body.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Jungkook looks thoroughly unfazed as he blinks a few loose strands of hair out of his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“Jungkook—” you hiss, struggling to see over his shoulder if your mother has returned. “Get off me.”
“Come on, Noona,” Jungkook murmurs. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me. Ever since you got back—ever since we kissed—”
“A mistake,” you say, cutting him off with a finger to the lips and glancing around furtively to make sure no one is eavesdropping. “That was a mistake.”
Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Was it? Because I really wanted to kiss you, and I’m pretty sure you wanted to kiss me too. You kissed back, didn’t you?”
“Y-you—“ You clear your throat and try again, cringing at how shaky your voice comes out. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But Jungkook simply laughs. “Don’t I?” He inches closer until you’re chest to chest, his gaze darkening as it flickers downward and lands on your mouth. Your heartbeat quickens, thudding erratically in your ribcage. It would be so easy to push to your tiptoes and close the distance between your lips.
“God,” you huff. “You’re so—”
His other eyebrow rises to join the first. “I’m so—?” he presses, tilting his head as he awaits your answer. The loose lock of hair flops across his forehead again, and this time you cannot stop yourself from reaching up to brush it away.
“Shut up,” you hiss as your fingers drop down to wind into the soft hair at his nape. “Just shut up.”
And then you’re kissing him—really, really kissing him—pulling him down to your level and sliding your free hand up his infuriatingly toned chest.
“See?” Jungkook’s lips curl up into a smug smirk as he pulls away slightly, his warm breath fanning across your cheeks with every word. “I knew you were into me.”
“God, do you ever stop talking?” you retort, pushing him back until you have enough room to switch your positions and maneuver him against the wall.
Jungkook lets you pin him in place, blinking down at you lazily with his mouth still stretched into that maddening little smirk. “Only if you make me, Noona.” His hands slide down your sides, coming to a stop at your hips in an ironclad grip. “Only if you kiss me like that again.”
So you do. Your fingers tighten in his hair as you crush your mouth to his, and when his lips part you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook—still smirking—relaxes and lets you take control of the kiss, but his hands continue to wander. Before you know it, he’s already snuck underneath the hem of your shirt, rubbing warm circles into the soft skin of your waist. His lips move languidly against yours, his tongue careful and gentle in its exploration of your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you closer. You’re pressed flush against him by this point, pinning him between your body and the wall, and neither you nor he have any intent to move anytime soon.
The sudden slamming of a door jerks you back to reality. Here you are, standing in the living room where anyone could walk by and see you kissing your brother’s best friend—again. Shakily, you pull away from Jungkook with your heart in your throat, putting as much space as you possibly can between your bodies. “Fuck,” you mutter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. We can’t do this.”
Jungkook’s chest is heaving, his lips swollen and red. “{Name}—” he tries, but you shake your head and cut him off before he can continue.
“You need to leave,” you whisper.
“But—”
“Please,” you say, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. “Please, Jungkook. Just leave.”
Jungkook swallows, hard. And then, much to your relief, he picks up his garment bag, shoving both shirts back inside. “Okay,” he rasps. “I’ll go.”
Elsewhere in the house, you can hear your mother calling for Jimin. Your father is watching TV in his study—you can hear the low hum of voices and a laugh track. Your entire family is here.
And yet, you’ve never felt more alone as you watch Jungkook stride down the hallway and disappear out the front door.
///
Returning to your high school is odd. The hallways and classrooms are familiar, but they all seem smaller than you remember. And were the ceilings always this short? You aren’t sure. What you are sure of, however, is that Jungkook and his family are currently headed your way, with beaming smiles on their faces and colorful flower bouquets in hand. Greetings and congratulations are exchanged, and it isn’t long before you are face-to-face with Jungkook himself, a tight smile on his face as he meets your eyes.
“Hi, Noona.”
“Hi,” you reply. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
Now that the graduation ceremony is over, he’s taken off his robe to reveal the red shirt underneath. The silky material drapes over his torso and clings to the toned planes of his chest, and your fingers itch to run across the defined muscle. Swallowing down the urge, you instead gesture toward his parents, who are engaged in deep conversation with your own parents while Jimin chats with Junghyun off to the side. “I guess we’re all getting dinner after this, huh?”
He nods. “Yeah, at that one place downtow—“
“Jungkook! Jimin!” A feminine voice interrupts him mid-sentence, and you watch in surprise as both your brother and Jungkook are suddenly engulfed in a massive tangle of limbs. Immediately, you recognize Jisoo and Lisa—two girls you considered casual friends from your own high school days. The third girl in the trio of friends—Chaeyoung—is noticeably absent, but you don’t get a chance to question her whereabouts. “Can you believe it? We’re graduates!” Lisa is saying excitedly, still clutching tightly onto Jungkook’s shoulders. She’s pressed flush against him, her chest molded to his, and the sudden rush of jealousy that takes root in the pit of your stomach takes you aback with its ferocity.
Calm the fuck down, you instruct your pounding heart. Stop it, right now.
“Has Tae told you about the party tomorrow night?” Jisoo asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. “You guys better be there—and that means you, too, {Name}! It’s been forever since we’ve seen you!”
You clear your throat and attempt to smile. “Yeah, it’s been way too long. It’ll be nice to finally catch up.” Unwillingly, your gaze flickers back over to Jungkook and Lisa, doing your best to maintain a neutral expression when you notice the casual way his arm drapes over her shoulders.
Your attempts are in vain. Jungkook notices your stare immediately, a massive shit-eating grin spreading across his face. One eyebrow rises in a silent taunt, and you swear his grip around her tightens. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you instead turn back to Jisoo, finally voicing the question that’s on your mind.
“So, where’s Chaeyoung? I saw her during the ceremony, but haven’t seen her around since. She didn’t leave already, did she?”
“No, she’s still here,” Jisoo answers, exchanging a look with Lisa. Curiosity piqued, you watch her gaze dart over to Jungkook for a split second before returning to you, a tiny smile gracing her face once more. “She’s with her family right now, but she’ll be at the party tomorrow.”
“I’ll congratulate her there, then,” you say, returning her smile with one of her own. Silently, you wonder at the uneasy glance the two girls had exchanged, but decide not to press it, chalking it up to some senior year drama that isn’t any of your business.
“Well, we should probably get going,” Jisoo says after another beat. “We’re off to dinner.”
“We should be on our way too,” you agree, glancing over at where your parents are still chatting, having absorbed Junghyun into their conversation at some point. Bidding the two girls goodbye, you sidle over to join them, trying your best to subtly nudge your parents toward the door.
After what feels like an eternity, your parents finally decide that they’re ready for a change in scenery. The drive to the restaurant is blessedly short, much to the relief of your grumbling stomach, and you are more than grateful for the brief reprieve from Jungkook and his knowing smirk. It doesn’t last long, however, and you mentally brace yourself when you spot the Jeons’ car in the parking lot of the restaurant. Upon entering, you are quickly ushered to your reserved table where the Jeons are already waiting, and somehow in the shuffle you end up right between Jungkook and Junghyun, the former’s face dissolving into a satisfied grin as he watches you sit down.
Then he turns to Jimin, who’s seated on his other side. “Hey, man.”
You bristle at the blatant way he’s ignoring you. But two can play at that game, so you turn to Junghyun with a winning smile, laying a hand on his shoulder for good measure. The older Jeon brother is four years your senior, but despite the age difference, you’ve always gotten along well.
“Junghyun, I haven’t seen you in ages! How have you been?”
The elder Jeon grins and leans in to give you a hug. “Good, good—work’s insane, but that’s old news. What about you? How’s school going so far?”
You can feel Jungkook’s gaze on you, hot and heavy. The hairs on the back of your neck prickle under the weight of it, and you resist the urge to shiver. Instead, you give Junghyun’s bicep a final squeeze before pulling away, steadfastly ignoring the way Jungkook lets out a disgruntled hiss from between his teeth.
“School is good,” you tell Junghyun. “I’m trying to get all my general requirements out of the way early, so my first semester wasn’t very interesting. I took some more focused classes in the second, though, which made things infinitely better.”
The elder Jeon laughs. “Guess that means you’re on the right track then, huh?”
“Guess so,” you reply, laughing right along with him.
The server stops by to take drink orders, and your parents take it upon themselves to order food for the table as well. You continue chatting amicably with Junghyun as the server returns with a tray of water, sodas, and soju; beside you, Jungkook does the same with Jimin. The only break in conversation comes when the server—a pretty girl with a chirpy voice and a nametag that reads ‘Mina’—leans over to set a glass of Coke down in front of Jungkook. He thanks her with a crooked smirk and a low purr of gratitude that has her cheeks flushing pink, and it’s all you can do not to gape at him like a fish. The flirtatious quirk of his lips, the seductive tone—it all comes far too naturally to him, and you wonder for a moment just where the old Jungkook has gone. The Jungkook you used to know stammered every time he had to talk to an unfamiliar girl, and had trouble looking even you in the eye despite having known you since grade school.
But now, he’s nowhere to be found. The young man sitting beside you remains as calm as can be, shifting his body toward Mina so that he can request a straw.
“Of course, here you go!” Mina’s gaze lingers on his hand as he accepts the proffered straw, eyes widening when his fingers brush against hers lightly.
“Fast service,” Jungkook remarks, his voice dipping into a low, indolent drawl. “I like that.”
Mina giggles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She’s clearly about to respond to him—flirt right back, undoubtedly—but your father stands up and taps his glass with a spoon before she can open her mouth. “I want to make a toast,” he says, and you send him a silent, heartfelt thank you when Mina wisely chooses to make herself scarce. “Congratulations to Jungkook and Jimin, our two rad grads!”
An audible groan rises up from your side of the table, where Jimin has buried his face in his hands. “Oh my god, Dad.”
“What?” your father asks innocently. “I really think you’re rad, grad!”
Jimin groans again, muffled by the sleeves of his jacket. “I want the earth to swallow me whole.”
Laughter all around. More toasts are given, and the bottles of soju scattered around the table slowly dwindle down to their last dregs. Junghyun picks up the one closest to him and fills up your glass for the fourth time, drawing a protesting whine from your lips as you try to cut him off. “Wait, that’s not fair! Pour some for yourself too!”
“Relax, we can always order more,” Junghyun says with a laugh, topping off your glass before glancing around to find Mina. Much to your irritation, she’s already headed your way, bearing loaded platters of meat and vegetables and wearing a bright smile that seems to only be directed to Jungkook.
“I hope you’re all hungry!” she chirps, coming to a stop between you and the subject of her affections. You swear she shoots you a dirty look over her shoulder before turning back to the table, her cheerful facade back in place as she smiles at Jungkook. “Where did you want me to put the meat?”
“Anywhere it’ll fit,” Jungkook tells her with a suggestive smirk, keeping his voice soft enough so that only you and she can hear.
Mina cannot hide her answering smile. Likewise, you cannot hide the way your nostrils flare, throat bobbing as you swallow down the ugly feelings bubbling up in your chest. You can feel Jungkook’s gaze roving across your skin, but you refuse to look at him, stubbornly facing the front as Mina distributes food around the table. As soon as she’s departed again—her fingers brushing across the back of Jungkook’s chair in the process—you’re up and out of your seat, heart beating faster than you’d like to admit.
“Restroom,” you say shortly by way of explanation. It’s thankfully empty when you arrive, and you immediately make a beeline toward the sink to splash some cold water on your cheeks.
It’s absurd—this snaking jealousy coiling in your belly and winding up between the slats of your ribcage. Straightening up, you give your reflection in the mirror a stern look, silently willing the feelings in your chest to abate. Gradually, your heartbeat slows into a regular rhythm, your cheeks cooling, and after waiting another two minutes, you decide that it’s been long enough. Drying off your hands, you exit the restroom and wind your way back to the table, keeping your pace leisurely even when Jungkook looks up and catches your eye. His expression is unreadable, and you valiantly ignore his burning gaze as you take a seat.
“How is everything?” you ask Junghyun, picking up a spoon and piling your plate with food from the nearest platter.
Junghyun pauses mid-bite to answer. His mouth opens, but you don’t catch his answer because there is a sudden, heavy weight on your knee. A warm palm caresses the skin exposed by the hem of your dress, slow and sensual and deliberate. Your eyes widen and your lips part, but no sound escapes. The rest of the table’s occupants fade away into the background, conversations and laughter dulling into a low drone. Beside you, Junghyun is still talking, but all you can hear is blood rushing through your ears.
And on your other side, Jungkook is smirking.
The bastard.
Gentle fingertips skim along your skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Your entire body stiffens, but Jungkook refuses to relent. He’s still chatting with Jimin, chuckling at a joke you didn’t hear, and you wonder how he can remain so calm when you are anything but. Your heart takes off in a sprint, clattering wildly against your ribcage, and for a few moments you are absolutely positive that everyone at the table can hear. Any moment, one of your parents will look over and see how wide your eyes are and how warm your cheeks feel. Any moment, Jimin will look down and see his best friend’s arm snaking beneath the table and realize what’s happening.
And then Jungkook squeezes your thigh, and all thought flies out of your head, dissipating like fog in the sunlight. He’s growing increasingly bold, his fingers trailing up until he can trace the hem of your dress, teasing at the soft material. Your breath hitches in your throat, and Jungkook’s smirk widens. You can see him out of the corner of your eye, trying to hide his smugness behind his soju glass, and for a moment you’re tempted to throw his drink in his face.
But more than that—more than anything else right now—you want him to continue touching you.
He’s sliding beneath your dress now, inching down to the delicate skin of your inner thigh and tracing nonsensical patterns there. You grip the edge of the table as he trails closer and closer to the lace of your panties, knuckles turning white against the dark wood. It’s a wonder no one has noticed your flustered state yet, and you cast concerned glances at Junghyun and Jimin before Jungkook notices your inattention. Punishingly, he slides a single finger into your panties, snapping the lace against your skin and covering the sound with a cough that he buries in his elbow. He can’t hide the way you jolt in your seat though, your knee thudding against the table. Junghyun gives you a worried look, laying a hand on your shoulder as he asks if you’re okay, and you hurriedly nod. And underneath the table, Jungkook resumes his ministrations, languorous and soft and deliberately avoiding the place you need him most, as if he has all the time in the world.
There’s a growing damp spot between your legs. You can feel it seeping through the cottony material of your panties, sticking uncomfortably to your folds. Jungkook’s touch is whisper-soft, caressing along your thigh until your skin is tingling, and it’s all you can do to swallow down the whimper that’s bubbling up in your throat. He’s thoroughly enjoying this—you can tell—and you’re certain he can feel the way you tense up when he suddenly drags a single finger up your clothed slit. A low hiss escapes your parted lips, and in an instant, all eyes are on you.
“Noona?” Jimin asks curiously. “Something wrong?”
“I—” Your mind whirs, searching for an excuse. “It’s nothing. I’m fine. The, uh, sauce was just spicier than I was expecting it to be.”
You haven’t touched a single thing on your plate in minutes, but no one seems to notice your obvious lie. Conversation resumes, and you determinedly pick up your spoon again, intent on getting something more substantial in your belly than the fluttering butterflies that have taken up residence there.
“You sure you want to eat that, Noona?” Jungkook’s voice reaches your ears—a low, dulcet purr that sends electricity shooting down your spine. “You should probably drink some water to cool down.”
And before you can answer—before you even manage to reach for your water glass—he’s slipped his hand into your panties, the warm pad of his thumb pressing experimentally against your clit. The slight pressure has you gasping, your heart pounding hard enough to leap out of your chest as you drop your spoon. Your hands drop down to your lap—one gripping the edge of your chair while the other finds its way around Jungkook’s wrist, and you aren’t sure whether you’re trying to stop him or spur him on. His arm muscles flex underneath your fingertips, and that’s all the warning you get before he angles his hand, a lone finger sinking inside your drenched entrance.
“Oh, fuck.” You can’t stop the strangled curse that escapes your lips, an airy hiss from behind clenched teeth. Your grip on Jungkook’s wrist tightens, but it doesn’t seem to dissuade him at all as he begins a leisurely pace, sinking deeper into your cunt with each thrust.
Luckily, no one hears your whimper. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you bite back the sounds threatening to spill out and instead focus on maintaining as neutral an expression as you can muster. Beneath the table, Jungkook remains relentless. Even when your mother looks over and addresses him directly, he doesn’t cease his ministrations, keeping both his tone and his pace even as he responds.
“Jungkookie, you’ve barely touched your pork belly. Are you full already?”
“Stuffed,” Jungkook replies smoothly. He punctuates the word by adding a second finger, and you almost bang your knee on the table again, your eyes going wide at his audacity.
Your mother pushes the platter of meat closer to him anyway. “No need to be polite, honey. Here, eat up.”
Obligingly, Jungkook picks out a few pieces with his free hand and piles them on his plate. “Thanks, Mrs. Park,” he says as he brings some to his mouth. “It’s delicious.”
Satisfied, your mother turns her attention elsewhere. Jungkook returns his to you, and you almost groan aloud when his thumb brushes against your clit again, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud before he sheathes both fingers inside you once more. There’s a growing heat coiling in the pit of your stomach by this point, lighting every single one of your nerves on fire. Your body is screaming for release, and Jungkook seems more than eager to give it to you. He’s freed his wrist from your grip, leaving you to clutch helplessly at the table as he angles his fingers upward. No doubt he’s searching for the spot that will have you seeing stars, and you know he’s found it when a sudden burst of pleasure spikes through you. Your mouth falls lax, and Jungkook grins, thoroughly satisfied.
There’s something building inside you, something that has your tummy tensing and your toes curling in your shoes. Jungkook’s fingers dig deep, his palm rubbing against your clit with every thrust, and it takes every remaining ounce of your self-control to resist the urge to rock your hips into his hand. A bit more of that delicious friction, and you’ll be falling over the edge. You know it, and so does Jungkook if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.
And then a voice is pulling you back to reality, a warm hand settling on your shoulder. You flinch at the contact, your startled gaze flying up to Junghyun’s, and balk when you see him staring at you with equal parts amusement and concern.
“I—what?” you stammer. “Did… did you say something?”
Beneath the table, you feel Jungkook’s fingers retreat, leaving you empty and aching for release. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook wipe his glistening hand on his napkin, a frown that can only be described as petulant settling onto his face.
“Whoa, relax!” Junghyun drags your attention back to him, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I just wanted to say goodbye. I have to be up early for work tomorrow, so I’m driving back into the city tonight.”
“Oh!” It takes you a few seconds to process his words. “Right, yeah. Have a safe drive back. It was good to see you.”
“Ditto,” he replies, flashing you a warm grin. “But hey, are you all right? You’ve been a little weird the whole night. Was it the food?”
Gratefully, you seize upon the excuse. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I think maybe something isn’t sitting quite right in my stomach, but I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it.”
He nods and leans in for a hug. “Take care of yourself, yeah?”
“You too. Bye, Junghyun.”
With the elder Jeon brother’s departure, everyone else quickly decides that it’s time to disperse as well. You adamantly refuse to look in Jungkook’s direction as your parents fight over the bill, focusing your goodbyes on Mr. and Mrs. Jeon even when he glances your way with a knowing little smirk and a soft murmur of, “Bye, Noona.”
You can’t look at him. Not when every movement reminds you just how damp your panties are, your core begging for relief. Not when he’s waggling his fingers in farewell—the gesture anything but innocent. “Bye,” you warble weakly, before fleeing to the car.
The memory of his fingers burns fresh in your mind later that night as you lie in bed, your hand stuffed down your panties and working furiously to find that sweet, sweet relief.
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1kook · 3 years
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this is part of my netflix & chill series!
SUMMARY “I think that, like— me and you? We’re like, totally destined,” you ramble, “you should, like, take my number! And maybe we can, like— Netflix and chill one of these days?” WARNING angst with implied smut at the end!!, flashbacks, low self esteem, alcohol consumption, jk is (implied) a virgin in this, there’s a lil fondling by oc u know the usual  MISC they r soulmates <3, our queen doyeon returns, i tried to use symbolism👁 in the dialogue so yes everything drunk oc says has a meaning hehe RATING m bc alcohol WC 2.2k
NOTES i said once a long time ago that n&c couple were prolly at the same party once but didn't realize so hERE WE GO ! its not proofread bc um. yeah<3
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Homecoming week. 
Jungkook doesn’t even think his university’s football team is good, but he had read somewhere that part of the college experience is obnoxiously supporting this team all four years. And well. Jungkook wants to fit in. Frankly, Jungkook feels a little dumb having accepted this invitation from Kim Taehyung from his first-year writing class. He’s only known the man a solid four weeks, probably won’t know him this well once Taehyung finds real friends, ones who suit his outgoing personality, and decides Jungkook is too boring, but Jungkook will make the best of it while he can because, again, he wants to fit in. Badly. It’ll be different this time, he had told himself while getting ready. You won’t be awkward anymore. You’ll make friends. 
And then it’s nearing midnight and Jungkook has spoken to a whopping two people at this party of over a hundred. Not including Taehyung, it’s down to one. Even that had only been to ask where the bathroom was. He feels severely out of place, like he’s both too large and too small to be in this area, to be at this party, so he shuffles into the kitchen when he hears them call for another match of beer pong. He’s actually pretty good at the game, has refined his skills at get togethers with his older cousins. But it’s not like anyone here wants to be Jungkook’s partner anyway. Or even knows who he is for that matter. 
Taehyung had bumped into him a little past ten, had had two girls clinging to his sides when he had greeted Jungkook. One of them had almost looked tempted, Jungkook wanted to believe, brushing her hand against his arm. But he didn’t act quick enough— what would he even have done? what did he even want? —and Taehyung disappeared with both girls soon after, leaving Jungkook by himself once more. 
The kitchen is empty, the drinks long since having migrated to the living area of this huge frat. With a defeated sigh, Jungkook sinks back against one of the counters, setting his lukewarm cup of beer down beside him. He’s buzzed, drank in a feeble attempt to ‘lose himself’ as all the movies claimed. But now all he can feel is a pounding headache threatening to consume him. He doesn’t even like drinking— why did he drink this much? 
He should go home. 
Events like this, parties like this— they weren’t meant for someone like Jungkook. He was too quiet, too shy to let loose like everyone else. He doesn’t do well in social situations, or at least not as well as his therapist had told him he would. He hesitates too much, never speaks when he needs to. Haerim from his freshman basics class had even said so. “You’re quiet, huh,” she had smiled, and when her notebook had touched his elbow, he flinched. She didn’t take it to heart. Just like Taehyung wouldn’t if he left right now. They know how he is. He doesn’t belong here. These types of parties were made for outgoing people, people who lived on the edge, people who weren’t trapped in their own thoughts all the time, people like—
Like the girl who stumbles through the doorway now. “Woooo,” she slurs, and then promptly faceplants into the dirty tile of the kitchen, the same tile littered with sticky footprints and random debris. He can’t even imagine what else is on the floor of a frat house mid-party. Jungkook flinches at the sound of her knee hitting the ground, before rushing over to help her up. 
She’s a giggling mess, eyes half shut by the time Jungkook gets her into a seated position. “Are you okay?” he flounders, hand on her shoulder when she wobbles again, nearly falls back down. 
“Just peachy,” she sings, flashing him a sloppy thumbs up. Her neck isn’t doing a particularly good job of holding her head up and when Jungkook places a hand on the back of her head, she leans into it, blissful smile on her face. She’s really pretty, it makes Jungkook’s cheeks burn when she aims it at him next. “Pucca loves Garu,” she lets him know, eyes finally fluttering open. “He’s a pretty boy.”
Jungkook blinks. He has no idea what you’re talking about. “Huh?” he stutters, glancing back at the bar stool by the counter instead. It’s probably infinitely times better than the sticky tile beneath your bare legs. “I’m gonna stand you up,” he tells you, taking your loud cackle as a sign that you’re okay with it. Jungkook’s been working out all summer, so you’re not heavy in the slightest, arms thrown around his shoulders while he slips his own around your back. Your proximity leaves him drowning in your scent. 
The giggles don’t subside when he sits you down, not even when he begins opening random cabinets in search of a glass to get you some water. He’s had his fair share of experiences looking after drunk people, so he has a pretty good idea of what to do now. However, your sudden bout of commentary certainly doesn’t make it easier. “Isn’t it, like, super cool how the sun and the moon are, like—“ a hiccup, Jungkook settles on tap water “tooootally different beings, but, like— they, like, both maintain the earth?” Your hand reaches for his forearm when he returns, gives him this little squeeze in your excitement. “Like— Like they both have to, like— work together? To keep it perfect, y’know?” 
Jungkook pushes the water into your hands. You’ve got this sparkly sheen to your eyes, the one that most people get after one too many drinks, but it’s accompanied by this childlike wonder that leaves Jungkook breathless when you meet his gaze. “Yeah,” he says quietly. You beam. It’s blinding. So blinding that Jungkook promptly looks away, nudging the cup in your hands. “You need to drink this.”
You frown. “Boooo, so boring,” you huff. It’s nothing Jungkook hasn’t heard before, but it is a little disheartening to hear it from a stranger. He stamps the feeling down, pursing his lips as he gives up on letting you drink yourself. The cup is swiped from your hand and Jungkook tasks himself with making you drink it instead. And of course, like all wasted young adults, you put up a fight. “Ew, what is that?” you spit. 
Jungkook sighs. “Water.” 
At his defeated tone, the exaggerated grimace slips off your face, replaced with a rather solemn expression instead. Jungkook tries to take advantage of it and pushes the cup against your lip again, but all he really accomplishes is sloshing it down the front of your dress. You don’t yelp, but he does. “I’m so sorry,” he panics, sliding the sleeve of his shirt down around his thumb to wipe your chin. 
You let him, head tilted curiously to the side. Jungkook tries to ignore your analytical gaze until: “you’re cute,” you announce, and abruptly send him into shock. 
He recoils, face a blazing mess. “I’m—“ he chokes, swallowing when you wipe your hand down your own chest, leave a glistening layer of water over your sternum and down between your breasts. 
“Cute,” you repeat, downing the glass he had been trying to coax into you like it’s nothing now. With it gone, you don’t waste any time, throwing your hands around his shoulders, fingers brushing through the hair at the base of his neck. You pull him close, so close in fact, that he ends up having to hold the back of your chair to keep from accidentally crushing you with his weight. “Your name, pretty boy?” 
He can’t think. You’re so drunk and smell so good and are just so pretty— his brain short circuits. “Um I’m, uh, Jeon J—“
“Jeon,” you repeat, silly smile back on your face. You’re not technically wrong, so he nods along with a blush high on his cheeks. “Well, Jeon,” you purr, but you’re still so drunk, eyelids fluttering in a rather funny way. “I think that, like— me and you? We’re like, totally destined,” you ramble, “you should, like, take my number! And maybe we can, like— Netflix and chill one of these days?”
Jungkook doesn’t even know what that means, and honestly, he doesn’t really hear you over the thundering of his own heart and the bass in the other room. “Um, but you’re really…” he stammers, leaning back but a finger loops around one of his curls and he gasps when you pull at it. “You’re drunk,” he rushes out, lower lip trembling when your nose knocks against his. 
A soft hum, the sound sending electricity down his spine when you cup his cheek. “But don’t you think I’m pretty?” you murmur, eyes flickering to his mouth. 
“Yes,“ he chokes out, “you’re a very, very pretty girl. But I really shouldn’t—“
“Hey,” you shush, tilting his head just the slightest. Jungkook has never had a girl touch him like this, has never even touched a girl before either, but, well. He really wants to kiss you. And that’s saying a lot considering Jungkook has never kissed anyone before. 
Despite how good it feels, he knows you’re still really drunk. It’s with a decisive huff that he pushes away, hands on your waist to keep you from touching up on him any further. You’re not that strong anyway. And then he’s met with the biggest pout he’s ever seen, an absolutely distraught look on your face. 
Something in him says you’ll cry if he doesn’t explain himself soon, so he launches into it right away. “You’re very pretty,” he says, almost laughing at the way your entire face lights up immediately. “But you’re very drunk.” You huff. “You deserve to be treated like a queen.” Mostly regurgitating something he heard in a motivational video. 
It works. Eventually, you stop being fussy in his arms and settle with a frown. “You’re too nice,” you grumble, forehead on the countertop. He doesn’t see how it’s much better than the floor but he lets you be. “You got a girlfriend, don’t you?” 
At that, Jungkook laughs. “No,” he reassures you, hesitates, and then gently pats your back. Jungkook actually feels you melt under his touch. That sultry look is gone, replaced with this rather tranquil look that he doesn’t quite understand. 
“That was pretty,” you murmur, but Jungkook doesn’t quite hear. 
“What was that?” he asks.
“I said your smile was pre—“
“There you are!” someone hollers from the kitchen doorway, the shrill tone of their voice making both you and Jungkook jump. When he turns around, he’s met with the sight of a rather tall girl angrily stomping your way, eyes a blazing fire, fists clenched by her side. Jungkook realizes only a second too late that she’s looking at him. “Get off of her, you sweaty city-owned dumpster,” she hisses, using the strength of three football players to push Jungkook away. “You make me sick—“
“Doyeonie,” you beam, launching yourself into the angry girl’s arms. Ah. The Help had arrived. 
Said angry girl (Doyeonie?) is still using every mash-up of words possible to degrade Jungkook as she hauls you into her arms, shooting daggers every step of the way. “I can’t believe you would try to take advantage of a poor girl when she’s this drunk,” she spits. 
“What?” Jungkook coughs, cheeks warm. “I wasn’t—“
“Tell it to Campus Safety when I report you, you wannabe, dollar store Rain.” Jungkook clutches his chest at the acidity of her tongue, surprised anyone could be so mean. 
All things considered, this was actually good. Someone who knew you had come to take you to safety, meaning Jungkook didn’t have to look after you anymore. When this Doyeonie turns around, he’s met with your smiley face smushed against her shoulder. 
(It’s weird. He’s a little sad to see you go.) 
“Bye, Jeon,” you giggle, hand brushing down his arm, squeezing his hand, before you’re abruptly yanked away. Jungkook manages one weak wave, cheeks lit ablaze once more when you send him a silly air kiss from the doorway, urging him to catch it. He does, and he feels really silly when he puts it in his pocket, but he can hear your laughter for a second more before he loses you. 
The last few minutes being so hectic, he decides to go home. Parties weren’t really his thing. Jungkook doesn’t think he’ll ever go to one again. 
Until a few years later. 
“You’re, like, really pretty,” you slur, lips against his throat. Another invitation, this time, Taehyung’s birthday. His friend had practically begged him to come, knowing how Jungkook was. In the end, it had been you who had accepted on his behalf. 
“Baby, not here,” he laughs, hand on your shoulder when you try to shove your hand down his pants for the third time that night. 
Taehyung had been ecstatic to see Jungkook here. And then had quickly become annoyed when he caught the two of you making out in his storage closet an hour later. “Bro, don’t be that couple at parties,” he had groaned, locking the door behind him. 
Jungkook had laughed. “I wouldn’t know what ‘that couple’ is at parties,” he reminded him. 
Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m sure your girlfriend can fill you in.”
Apparently not. You’ve been trying to kiss him for the past three minutes but keep missing because you’re so drunk. “Just one,” you beg, so pretty but so drunk. The fake lashes you’d worn today make you look like a doll, batting them his way until he’s giving in, slotting his lips against yours. You’re probably going to throw up in his bathroom when you get home, so he should make the best of your kisses now. Jungkook pushes that thought aside as he reaches a hand out to wipe at the sweat accumulating on your chest. There’s something weird about the gesture, like he’s done it before at another party. But that doesn’t make sense; he couldn't have— this is his first party with you. 
“We should, like, leave,” you whisper against his ear, fingers burying themselves in his hair; when you pull on a strand, he nearly moans. “Go home. Maybe netflix and—“ a hiccup that makes him smile “—chill?”
Jungkook kisses your temple. “Sounds good to me, pretty girl.”
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805 notes · View notes
a-wildemusing · 3 years
Text
The Three of Us: A Late Night at the Cafe. 
word count: 1,676~
genre: Kenma x platonic!reader, Kuroo x Platonic!reader.
warnings: nothing I can think of. probably any mistakes.
summary: Y/n took the late shift at the Cafe they work at. It’s been a slow night until unexpectedly a whole volleyball team decides to get a late snack. 
a/n: this is part of a series I’m doing, called the Three of Us. Its made up events and adventures with being best friends with Kuroo and Kenma. Hope you enjoy!
The Three of Us. ✨ Masterlist. ✨
--
The night was going to be a long one, you thought. As a courtesy to your boss lady, you said that you would take her closing shift so she and her family could spend the evening together. It was her son’s birthday. You wanted them to spend as much time with her family as possible. There was no class the following day, so it all worked out. You could sleep in and your boss lady can relax. 
A few customers came in, but it wasn't overwhelming. Even at the last hour, you even told your co-worker they can go home early. You have done this many times before. Taking the closing shift wasn't anything new to you. The boss lady did not hesitate to trust you.  
It was a quiet night. Only two people came in for drinks after your coworker left. They left after a short stay. You were on your own after that. From the front window of the cafe, you looked out. Occasionally, a car passed by. As the minutes passed, the streets began to clear. After catching yourself spacing out, you decided to keep busy and start cleaning a little.
You had your back turned from the door. Cleaning the counters a little while waiting for closing time. There were still forty minutes left. You were minding your own business. Humming along with the low melody of the song playing over the speakers.  
This sort of quiet was sometimes enjoyable to you. However, it was beginning to feel a little overwhelming. You went too deep into your thoughts. 
The past few months have been interesting. There were many things coming up soon. Summer break was just around the corner. Graduation was drawing near for third-year students. In the coming term, Kuroo will be attending university. Kenma and you were going to be third years. Everything felt a little overwhelming. 
As you sighed, you began to organize some things. Your work routine slowly returns and you try not to space out again.     
Your ears were alerted to the chimes from the door. A smile soon appeared on your face as soon as you turned around to see your smirking best friend. You had a slightly confused expression on your face, but the smile was still prominent. Kuroo was standing with what seemed like the whole volleyball team. 
“Welcome!” You cheerfully said putting down the rag you were using the clean moments ago.  
You smiled at Kuroo. “What are you guys doing here? I thought you guys had practice” 
“We-
“Y/n, can I still order?” Lev interrupted Kuroo. Lev walked towards you with heart eyes. Kuroo rolled his eyes and sat at the nearest table. Kenma follows him. Both of them are watching you. Before giving Lev your full attention, you shook your head at the two. 
“Oh. yeah! Of course,” You said cheerfully as you made your way to the cash register. “What can I get you, Lev?” 
The rest of the team lined up behind Lev to order and offer a small greeting as well. After taking some orders, you take a short break to make the drinks or give the snacks to the boys. Even though they had practiced, everyone was so lively. Kuroo caught your eye as you glanced over at him. A smile spread across his face. It was as if he knew you needed the company. 
Kenma finally came up to you to say hi when it seemed you had a small moment to yourself.   You handed him a box to go. 
“Hi, Kenma.” You smiled. “I saved that for you.” 
Kenma opens the box to see a piece of apple pie. He smiles, and thanks you before sitting with Yamamoto. Then you went back making drinks again.
Once everyone had their food and drinks. You went around chatting with everyone. Yaku and Fukunaga were the two you ended up with. The two of them took care of you by protecting you from Lev, Inouka, and Yamamoto from simping too hard or bothering you. 
All in all, it was a good time. You felt so much better. The thoughts you thought earlier weren't so bothersome to you anymore. 
In time, the volleyball team began to slowly leave. Everyone said goodbye and thanks to you.  Before leaving, some of them helped you stack some of the chairs on top of the tables. All that remained was to mop the floors and finalize the cash register. 
Soon the only person that was left was Kuroo. Kenma was actually feeling tired and went home with the rest.
“Thanks for tonight.” As Kuroo grabbed the spare mop, you said softly, "I was kind of feeling weird." You moved the mop side to side as you slowly walked backward, not making eye contact with him.
"I remember you telling me you would be taking the night shift and we ended practice early. So why not.” Kuroo said while he mopped an area a little further apart from you. “But what’s up?”
“I don’t know.” You shrugged. 
“I am sure you do. How am I supposed to give you amazing advice if you don’t tell me what’s bugging you? How can your elder help you?” Kuroo teases you. 
You shake your head with a small smile on your face. “You are only one year older than me... Shut up.” 
A chuckle escaped Kuroo's lips. Then he taps your mop with his. Bringing your eyes up to look at him. As you hold the mop and pretend to be holding a sword, Kuroo follows your lead and does the same. 
“I don’t know…” You softly tap your mop with his a couple of times. “What are we going to do without you, Kuroo?” You leaned the mop by the counter. 
“What do you mean? I’m not leaving.” 
“Yes, you are. This is your last year. Graduation is coming soon.” 
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. We have been together since we were kids and I don't know... Maybe I'm just being weird.” You looked down.
“No. No. you’re not. To be honest with you. I thought about this.” 
“Really?” You looked back up to meet Kuroo’s eyes. There was a seriousness to them.
“Yeah, really. I was thinking that I get one whole year without you and Kenma. How peaceful will that be.” 
You nudged him playfully, “ Hey!”
Kuroo starts laughing, putting the mop that he was holding down next to yours. He leans on the counter to keep his balance. 
Kuroo as he calms down. “It’s not like I’m leaving the face of the Earth Y/n. Plus, you are going to the same university as me.” Kuroo teases. 
“I know! Okay…it’s just I-I’m... I’m going to miss you.” You give him a small smile. 
But with that Kuroo starts laughing again.  
“Oh come on, Kuroo let me be sappy for a second.” You sighed and gave Kuroo a shove. “You’re my best friend...my annoying older brother. God. Maybe, this is going to be a nice break from your teasing!” Your vision slowly started to blur. You shocked your head. 
“I’m going to miss seeing you every day,” Kuroo said, as he walked towards you. He wraps you in a hug and you return the hug. “But don’t worry. It’s going to be like I haven’t left. I’m going to bug you and Kenma as much as possible.”
You rolled your eyes but hugged Kuroo a little harder. The both of you stayed like that for a bit.
“Hey, come on. I know you still have to finalize the cash register and it's getting late.” Kuroo lets go of you. 
You and Kuroo completed the cleaning and you completed the cash register after your conversation. The cafe was locked. The two of you walked home together. It was a quiet walk and train ride home. Each of you taking a moment to ponder over the small conversation you both had. 
There was going to be a lot of change. Getting used to not seeing each other every day was going to take some time. However, you knew Kuroo and Kenma would be your closest friends for a long time. 
*Kenma and Y/n during the first two weeks of their third year*
Your alarm went off and when you saw it was the third special alarm you woke up so quickly. A burst of energy helps you race to get yourself ready and out the door. Your third alarm was your last warning before you were going to have zero time to make it to school on time. 
You knew if you were waking up late, Kenma would be as well.  Your hair was a little messy, your uniform wasn't tucked in completely, and there were some papers trapped in the zipper of your school bag.  
“We're going to be late, Kenma!" You barged into Kenma’s room. Kenma is still lying in bed. Opening his eyes gradually, he gazes into the distance towards you by the door. 
“Kenma! Let's go!" You threw his uniform at him. Despite still being confined to his bed, he slowly begins to rise. 
“What do you mean...Kuroo is not here yet.”  Kenma rubs his eyes. 
After a brief pause, you turned your attention to him. Your face displays a sad smile. It's then that Kenma realizes what's going on.
“Oh.” He grabs his uniform.  
Kenma and you were finally out the door and rushing to school. You both were able to catch the train. Both sitting down, you placed your head on Kenma’s shoulder trying to catch your breath.
“How did Kuroo manage to keep us from being late for so long?” You look up smiling at Kenma. 
“I don’t even know.” Kenma takes out his handheld console. 
You lifted your head from Kenma’s shoulder when you felt your phone blowing up with text messages. You smile to yourself seeing who was texting you. Kuroo was texting you asking if you made it on time and if you and Kenma were at school yet. You message him back and then put your phone away. Placing your head back on Kenma’s shoulder to watch him play his game.
--
end notes lol 
~ Kenma and Y/n were so distracted by the game that they almost missed their stop. ಥ‿ಥ
~Kuroo is stressed af bc of Kenma and Y/n and he doesn’t even go to same school as them anymore lol 
58 notes · View notes
gingerale2017 · 3 years
Text
“Now, Kiss!”
Based on this hc I made earlier :)
3474 words
Fandom: The Lunar Chronicles
Pairing: Kai x Cinder
Fluff
Description:
Kai knew that the annoyance was part of having a sibling, but he hated it all the same. Nainsi would tease him about everything and when she figured out his crush on Cinder Linh, it only got worse. When Cinder calls Kai on the day that Nainsi brings some friends, she suspects that something might be cooking in the pot. Is she right, or are they friends for another agonizing day?
(Also I decided to name her Nainsi bc I’m too tired to brainstorm anything else I like it)
“WAKE UP KAI!” was the first thing Kai heard after being unfortunately interrupted by a sweet dream involving a certain someone. He was awake now, with a 100-pound pillow being tossed onto his head. Groaning, he flipped to his other side, squeezing his eyes shut as if that would make the tiny monster go away.
“KAI WE’RE GONNA BE LATE!” Nainsi yelled. She threw another pillow at him and when he didn’t show any signs of stopping, she yanked the cover out. Thank the stars for sheets.
“Stars, what time is it?” Kai managed to ask. Knowing his family it was probably five in the morning.
“Seven-thirty, ” he groaned again. It was way too early to get out of bed. Plus, the school didn’t start until eight-thirty so they were very much not late. He tucked his head in the pillow and wished for his sister to magically vanish away into whatever drama she obsessed with now.
“KAI! GET OUT THE BED RIGHT NOW!” Kai turned his head to glare at her. She glared right back.
“You know Cinder gets up super early for whatever reason. That’s something you two can get along with, ” instead of rolling her eyes like she usually did when Kai talked about Cinder, Nainsi's lips formed into a coy smile.
He cursed.
She somehow smiled even further and cocked her head, “Got any plans with her tonight?”
He could feel his ears turn red, and he tried to kill her on the spot with his eyes. His little sister took the smart choice and sprinted out of his room with Kai on her heels.
She screamed as he followed her down the stairs into the kitchen, seeking refuge next to their father’s chair. Kai could tell he was annoyed by the posture he was in and the way he took another sip of his coffee.
Nainsi shot Kai a smug smile that he wished to wipe off her face, “are you gonna wear pajamas to school, Kaito?”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Ah, yes, but then you’ll spend the rest of your life in jail and will never see your precious Cinder again.”
He glared at her once more and left to go change. When he came back, the aroma of fried eggs was so strong that it filled the whole house.
His father was humming a tune while seasoning the eggs with pepper, now in a less annoyed mood. There were two plates on the kitchen counter already equipped with breakfast. Nainsi rebelliously made cereal instead of eating eggs. Kai, on the other hand, was grateful for the free breakfast.
He sat grabbed a ate and sat at the barstool, preparing to dig into his meal. Dad wanted to make small talk instead, “Good morning, son, and you're welcome for the delicious breakfast that I so graciously made for my marvelous kids.”
“Good morning, father, and us marvelous kids are so grateful for this delicious meal that makes caught us by surprise. But unfortunately, one of your children prefers Lucky Charms to you’re amazing breakfast, ” Kai responded after swallowing his first bite of eggs.
Nainsi looked up from her cereal, “that’s because I don’t like eggs, they’re disgusting.”
“You don’t like anything, ” she stuck her tongue out. Kai picked up his plate and placed it in the sink. Unsurprisingly, he was still hungry, so he went to see what was in the fridge.
“Kai, why don’t you ever want up early?” his father asked.
“Um, because-”
“Because he’s up all night thinking about making out with Cinder in the back of her BMW, ” the little monster interrupted before he could continue. He grabbed a tomato and slammed the fridge shut.
He then threw the tomato at her, “two strikes, Nainsi.”
She dodged the tomato and looked back at Kai with big round eyes.
“Hey, it's too early to fight with your sister just yet, ” interjected his father, “also, if you couldn’t tell, your mother is working double shifts at the hospital today so she wouldn’t be coming back tonight and I have a business trip. I know you have some friends coming over today, Nainsi, so behave better than usual. Both of you.”
“What friends are coming over, Nainsi?” Kai mused, an idea forming in his head.
“Just Geovanna and Emily. Possibly Ben but he hasn’t confirmed yet,” she answered, “why?”
“Just wondering. Anyways, we gotta go now,” Kai pulled on his sweatshirt from the laundry and headed towards the front, “bye dad.”
He nodded at Kai, currently preoccupied with his second mug of coffee while Nainsi rushed to follow Kai.
It was freezing out, as it usually was during winter in Maryland, but today was unusually cold. He turned on the car while Nainsi hopped in the passenger seat.
“Are we gonna go or what?” she barked.
“In a minute. Let me close my eyes for a bit.”
“You always do that, you lazy bum.”
“Your insults are getting drier and drier Nainsi.”
“Just go, ” this time she hit his forearm with her binder from nowhere. Repeatedly.
“Okay, stop hitting me. Ow.”
They drove off towards the school. Although Nainsi lived to tease Kai, they got along pretty well. They talked about this new show and had similar opinions on it during the short car ride. Once they were at Nainsi’s school and she was gone, then he could start playing the radio.
He bid his goodbye’s and see you later’s and now was off to his school.
᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽
Kai was unsurprisingly drained during the last period of the day. He fiddled with the corner of his notes to keep himself awake for at least ten more minutes. When he felt himself starting to doze off, he began to replay the day so far.
When he got to school, Cinder was marked absent which made his day worse. He always looked forward to hearing her sarcastic remarks or her smiling at one of his witty jokes.
Anyways, she was gone and he was sad, but Cress wasn’t. She happily explained to Kai that she and Thorne were going on a date Sunday. He was happy for her, truly, but all he could think about was how he can unsuccessfully tell his feeling to Cinder.
Not telling her felt like he was forgetting something important every day, except he was not forgetting. He knew exactly what he was doing and it killed him, but he also didn’t want to ruin the good that they have now. Then Kai would think about how it would be better and his thought would circle around and around.
After meeting up with Cress, they endured through the first two periods they shared, Scarlet and Thorne joining during the second. Although he had plenty of friends to talk to and enjoy, he couldn't help missing Cinder.
She's gone for one day and you feel like this? he thought, get a break. The little voice inside Kai's head was right.
Then the last bell rang, startling him. He stood up and began to pack his things. Then he fast-walked out and left.
"Kai!" he heard someone call.
Iko and Cress gestured at Kai to come to their lockers. He obliged.
"Look, Winter's birthday is in a couple of weeks, during the break. We want to throw a party because it's her sweet sixteen! We already have all the decorations ready, I know it's early, but long story short, can we throw it at your place?" his blue-haired friend asked as innocently as possible. Although she had to change her posture, tone, and expression to look innocent, Cress had that personality as her default.
"Please, Kai?” Cress pleaded and she knew what she was doing. It was always impossible to say no to her without feeling guilty. Or maybe it was just Kai who hated saying no.
“Of course! My parents are going to their parents during that week, so I’ll just ask to stay behind.”
“Yay! Thank you so much!” Iko hugged him tightly, “also not a word to Winger. It’s going to be a surprise.”
“Sounds nice.”
“Yep. I got to go to my job interview, remember what I was telling you about. Ah, the chance to work a boutique, what a dream,” and with that, his friend walked away.
“Hey Cress, did you hear anything about Cinder, ” he pressed.
She nodded, “Adri was mad at her again so she’s stuck at the garage, ” the blonde began to nibble in her fingernails. Noticing the bad habit, she brought he hand down.
“Oh, ” he hated Cinder’s stepmother, he truly did. And it killed him he couldn’t do anything about it.
They walked silently down the hall. Girls batted their lashes and some greeted him but he ignored it as usual.
“Do you think Adri would let Cinder free tonight?” he asked, now in the parking lot of the school.
“If you’re the one taking her anywhere then, of course, Adri would.”
Cress, Cinder, and Winter all skipped one grade. Cinder and Winter skilled first, and Cress skipped seventh. Cress was the smartest of them all, granted, and they don’t have a driver's license. So Cress got a ride with her older brother Jacin, and so did Winter (Jacin’s girlfriend). Cinder usually rode with Thorne, but on the good days, she rides with Kai.
They reached Kai’s car which was near Jacin’s car and being the super over-protective brother he was, he glared Kai down. Kai found this confusing because his feelings for Cinder were quite obvious, but then he saw Thorne parked next to Kai.
Thorne was currently ‘interested’ in Cress which made her a flustered mess.
Cress walked quickly to Jacin’s car and hopped in the back. Kai called goodbye and started his car. Then there was a rap on his window.
“What?” he asked Thorne, “I got to pick up my sister.”
“What flowers does Cress like?” he lifted an eyebrow at his friend, “not like that,” what Thorne did not know was that Cress told Kai everything about their date. Perhaps Thorne wants to keep it secret until then.
“Uh-huh.”
“Just answer the question!”
He shifted in his seat, “I dunno. Ask Jacin.”
“Great advice,” Thorne deadpanned.
“Get her roses. Those are super romantic and she’s all about the romantic gestures.”
“Nah, too cheesy. Pretend it's Cinder, what would she like?”
“Cinder doesn’t like flowers. Wrenches, however, are much appreciated.”
“I think I’ll just get roses.”
“Yeah, now move, my sister is waiting for me, ” Kai rolled up the windows and drove out.
Time passed very quickly and the next thing he knew, Nainsi was climbing in the passenger seat with her three friends in the back seat.
“I thought it was only two people, ” he whispered harshly.
She shrugged, “Ben decided to come.”
“What are you gonna feed them.”
“Pizza.”
“Who’s money?”
“Yours,” he shoved Nainsi but she shoved back.
“Fine but you owe me.”
“We’ll see, ” she turned in the seat to talk with her friends.
᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽
Once everyone was settled inside and pizza was ordered he began to brainstorm ways Kai could punish Nainsi for this morning.
Then, like a light bulb, a perfect idea formed into his head. He walked into the laundry room where a basket filled with his clothes was waiting for him.
He pulled off his shirt, grabbed the basket, and headed into the living room. His sister was watching a realistic drama with her friends, although Kai wasn’t sure the drama wasn’t ‘realistic’ at all.
This plan happened before on accident with the same friends and they just stared at him while Nainsi shooed him out. Little did he know that her friends would just start talking about him and his looks. When Nainsi told him this, he groaned and whined about how he got enough of this from school. So when Nainsi had people over, Kai would camp in his room to avoid the awkwardness.
Now, he knows how her friends would react. And how she would react.
But before he could do anything, the phone in his pocket vibrated, making him turn a one-eighty back into the laundry.
It was actually Cinder calling and he answered quickly, “hello?”
“Uh, Kai?”
“Yes?”
“Can you do me a favor? Please?” it sounded like she was outside where it was currently raining.
“Yes, of course, what do you need?”
“I need a ride. I’m stuck here in the rain, by myself. Also, this is going to sound weird but, can I also stay with you for an hour and a half?” she defeated like she lost an argument.
“I can pick you up and you can stay with me. Nainsi has some friends over but it should be fine, ” Kai wondered if he sounded too cheery.
“Ok, thanks. I’m at the gas station outside your neighborhood, by the way.”
“Great, see you in a few minutes. Bye.”
“Bye, ” she hung up.
Kai hurried to put on a shirt and grab two rain jackets from the close, just in case Cinder needed one. Then he walked into the living room and out the front door, only to come back in. He forgot to tell Nainsi where he was going.
“Hey Nainsi, I got to pick up someone. I’ll be back soon though, ” she nodded, mouth full of pizza crust, “uh, don’t open the door to strangers. Bye.”
This time he didn’t go back inside after he left. He drove out of the neighborhood, slowly because it was pouring buckets and he could barely see three feet in front of him. After an eternity, Kai finally reached the gas station and parked under the large roof.
He didn’t even see Cinder come in, only heard her, sacring him witless. She smiled apologetically while tossing a white plastic bag onto her lap. It was full of snacks.
“Thanks for coming to get me, I owe you one now, ” she said, handing him one of the bags of chips.
“Of course, Cinder, I would do anything for you, ” the corner of her lip curved upwards as Kai’s cheeks heated, “that came out wrong. I meant that you’re my friend and such. Like the good moral movies where like the one friend reminds the other what friendship is truly about?”
Cinder snorted, “Like My Little Pony?”
“Isn’t that a TV show?”
“Same thing.”
“Is not.”
“Whatever, I know what you meant. Peony had made me watch enough TV shows and movies to last a lifetime.”
“Okay then, ” the rain seemed to finally thin during their conversation making it much more comfortable conditions for Kai to drive in.
Cinder had a habit of talking with her mouth full and the ‘good manners kid’ inside of him cringed. He hoped he hid it well.
Anyways Cinder explained why she was soaking wet at a gas station abandoned with snacks. She was bored and hungry and wanted something to do. So she walked to the gas station, alone, for snacks and a good walk.
Kai raised an eyebrow at that, “you live far away from me, how and why did you walk miles just for a bag of junk food?”
“People can do miraculous things when they are bored, Kai.”
“Yes, and penguins can fly if they really set their minds to it.”
“They are a bird so, hey, nothing’s impossible.”
“Who drove you?”
Cinder shoved a chip in her mouth, “Pearl,” she admitted reluctantly.
“What?”
“I skipped lunch and she knew I was hungry so she drove me here and left me while I was getting snacks. She also called me and said that it was a prank she couldn’t resist.”
“Oh, ” Kai said as they were pulling in his driveway. It was drizzling now so there was no need for the rain jackets.
“I’m also supposed to be at the garage until later so that's why I have to stay that long. If I come back early, Adri would get mad, and I don’t feel like getting yelled at today.”
“Ok,” he said as he walked out of the car.
He opened the door for Cinder and followed her inside. Nainsi and her friends did not move from before he left, but they switched shows. His little sister locked eyes with Cinder, immediately getting up.
“Hey Cinder. I did not know you two were hanging out today?” She said conspiratorially.
Cinder nodded, “yeah it was kind of sudden. Also, Peony is not with me, sorry.”
“That’s okay. I’m going back to my friends now. So you guys can ‘hang out’” Nainsi emphasized the last part then ran off to her friends.
“So, um, what do you want to do for an hour and a half?” he asked.
Cinder turned to him, “I don’t know, what do you want to do.”
“I don’t know.”
“Let’s just go to your room then.”
“Good idea, ” Cinder has been to his house enough to know the layout. He followed her to his room where she fell on the bed.
“Working under cars all day isn't good for the back you know, ” she explained, muffled by a pillow.
“I would expect so because your posture is not up to standards.”
She snorted, “I guess that’s true, ” Cinder sat up and leaned on the headboards, “sorry for taking up your space. And for calling you. Stars, this was a bad idea, you already have people here. I’m like an intruder-”
“Why are you apologizing so much? I don’t care if you light my room on fire, ” Kai accused. It was true, ever since he met her, she would apologize for every single tiny thing, as if every single wrong thing she did was unacceptable. He moved towards her to place a hand on hers, “it’s okay, Cinder. And calling me was a good idea because you saved me from the little demons.”
Cinder let out a genuine laugh that ended with a genuine smile. A smile that never ceased to make his heart twitch. He bashfully realized that he was still holding her hand.
Kai let go but she only grabbed his hand back. He watched her intertwine their fingers, trying to ignore the strong pounding of his heart. He dared to look up and realized that Cinder was staring at him.
He looked into her chocolate eyes that seemed to shine with stars. He wanted to dive into that sea of brown and lie there for eternity. As long she was there.
“Now kiss!” cried a shrill voice. Kai jumped away from Cinder, noticing that she copied his actions.
“Aw, come on just kiss already, the tension was so thick, ” said... Peony?
Cinder’s eyes widened, “Peony, what- how did- why are you here?”
“Well first, I was invited to the sleepover but I had volleyball practice so I had to come late. I just got here. And second, I saw Nainsi sneaking up here so I followed, and oh my stars, we ruined the money, didn’t we?” Peony looked at Nainsi.
“We did. Sorry guys, we’ll go now.”
“Yes, now you can kiss in peace, ” the girls left, leaving Kai very flustered. He glanced at Cinder and saw that her cheeks were also tinted pink.
“So, do you want something to eat, ” he asked finally. He could not bear the silence anymore.
“Yes, ” she nodded, although they already are in the car.
They got up to leave but before he could open the door, Cinder grabbed his wrist and pulls him down. The next thing he knew they were kissing. It was quick and soft and amazing. It felt like everything suddenly clicked and the world was righted. Like the stars finally aligned.
She pulled away and Kai could feel the heat in his ears. His heart was beating so loud that he was sure Cinder could hear it as well.
“Let’s go get some food, ” she breathed and opened the door. She was still holding his wrist, he realized. He intertwined their hands like before, but this time it felt more meaningful. It was like their hands now signified that they were more than friends. That they loved each other, even if they hadn't admitted it yet. But he could feel it and was sure that she could too.
They entered the kitchen and Cinder began to talk about food options but all he could think about was the kiss. He wanted to kiss her again. And to hold her.
Someone cleared their throat behind them, making them turn around. Nainsi, Peony, Emily, Geovanna, and Ben all stood with knowing faces. Nainsi smirked, “finally.”
Peony looked like she was about to explode with happiness, “I already told Iko. She’s ecstatic.”
Neither Kai nor Cinder said anything. Nainsi probably knew because of the looks on their red faces and told Peony. Then Peony told Iko and Iko probably told everyone in their friend group.
So now everyone knows.
“Just to be sure, you guys did kiss, right?” asked Emily.
Slowly, Cinder nodded. Kai opted to stare at his feet. Peony whooped, Nainsi squealed, Cinder blushed, and Kai groaned.
“Ok now we will leave you alone, for real, ” Nainsi promised, dragging her friends away.
“Why are there so many people here?” Kai murmured then turned to Cinder. She leaned on his shoulder. They were still holding each other's hand, “I really want to kiss you again, by the way.”
“Me too.”
“Okay then, ” he cupped her cheek with his free hand and kissed her. Cinder squeezed his hand affectionately. He once again felt like everything was where it was supposed to be, where he was supposed to be, and that was with Cinder.
Tagging: @just2bubbly @winterrhayle @jacihayle @shelbylmkaider @cerenoya @a-salting-the-world @ladyvesuvia @not-the-founder-of-rome @greenalmond @zephyr-thedragon @cinderswrench @cindersassasin @strawberry-seraph (these are just one-shot tags so please tell me if you want to be added or remove for these types of fics <3)
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emsvegetables · 4 years
Text
“i read your headcanons for making up with some hq!! boys, could you do a part two with tsukki, oikawa, bokuto, and kuroo? thank you!”
hi anon!! i presume you’re referring to the one where their s/o gives them the silent treatment after a fight and how they react??? okay i hop e you’re referring to that or i did it wrongly LMAOOOOOO
Tsukishima:
* listen. this man?
* he’s very sarcastic, and when he gets into a fight with you, his words are SCATHING, and mean and horrible at the same time.
* but he knows when he says something wrong, judging from the way your eyes widen, before you glare angrily at him and loudly say,” fuck you.”
* and then you’re storming out of the house with your phone in hand.
* he’ll glare at the door a few moments after you left, but the words he said will start to sink in to him after a few minutes.
* and he knows he’s in the wrong.
* but he’s also a stubborn little shit, and he’s NOT going to text you and ask you to come back.
* but as the day drags on, and when you haven’t returned home when dusk sets in, he’s getting a little guilty and worried.
* he’ll finally try calling your phone, but when it’s declined he frowns.
* did something happen to you?
* or were you ignoring him?
* it’s evening when he starts to get really worried.
* he’s sitting on the couch, and nervously fiddling with the remote of the television, looming up at the clock hung on the wall.
* when he heard the door open?
* he’s rushing to you, his face angry, demanding,” where were you?”
* when you ignore him and push past him, he rolls his eyes and he remembers that he was in the wrong, and he sighs and walks towards you to tap you on your shoulders.
* “i’m sorry,” he reluctantly says out, bc our boi Tsukishima is really prideful and this takes a lot for him to say.
* but when you don’t answer?
* his guilt intensified lololololol
* so he’s sighing again and softly placing a kiss on your lips.
* “forgive me?”
* how can you not lmao this french fry is so soft towards you?????
Oikawa:
* okay tbh fights are fleeting with this guy.
* you always have small fights with him, but they’re never bad.
* but one day, the words he says are so bad that you stare at him in silence for a while.
* and he knows he fucked up, judging from the way how you were previously shouting at him and then now you’re absolutely silent???
* and when you walk into the room and lock the door??? OH SHITTT
* he feels SO bad instantly.
* like ???? he didn’t mean to say that.
* EIRIFIFIRI HES FREAKING OUT.
* SHIT WHAT SHOULD HE DO NOW FIRIFIFID HE DIDNT MEAN TO DO THAT—
* but this guy is a ladies man.
* so instinct kicks in after his little freak out session.
* so he knows he needs to leave you alone for a while.
* you need to cool down.
* and he needs to too.
* and so he leaves the house to buy you some chocolate and flowers as an apology.
* when he comes back, you’re sitting on the couch, very resolutely not staring at him and staring at the wall.
* he feels sad :(
* and he feels hurt :((
* but he also feels bad. :(((
* he stands in front of you and pouts.
* “babe.”
* you don’t answer.
* “babe. i’m sorry.”
* then he’s giving you the flowers and chocolate and looking at you with those baby eyes of his.
* so now you have to forgive him BC look at him! LOOK AT HIM.
* and look at what he’s done for you!!!!!
* but he’s a ladies man so what can you say ):(.
Bokuto:
* oh baby.
* you NEVER have fights with him.
* it’s because he’s this soft baby boi!!!! YOU CANNOT FIGHT WITH HIM.
* but one day something wrong slips out of his mouth.
* and he knows what he said was bad judging by your stunned silence after an offended gasp.
* then he feels so BAD when you storm away from him and lock yourself in the room.
* aw his hair starts to flop down :(
* sad owl.
* he’s knocking on the door, and quietly going,” babe?
* you don’t answer.
* and his hair starts to flop down even more. :(
* HES SO SAD.
* “(Y/N)? i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to say that.”
* he really didn’t :(
* but when you don’t answer, he’s panicking.
* WHAT IF SOMETHING HAPPENED TO YOU.
* so he kicks down the door LMAOOOO
* and he meets your shocked face on the bed.
* and he heaves a sigh of relief.
* “oh, you’re okay!”
* but literally you laugh at the broken door and he thinks that you’ve forgiven him and he runs over to give you cuddles.
* he’s wrapping you in his beefy arms and nuzzling against you.
* “Ko?”
* “yes, babe?”
* “you have to fix the door.”
* “after i finish cuddling you! you’re so soft!”
* tbh you’ve forgiven him a long time ago.
* bc he’s like a fluffy golden retriever.
* not forgiving him would be like kicking a puppy.
* A SIN.
Kuroo:
* fights with him are VERY rare.
* bc he knows you very well!!!!
* but when you guys have a fight? it’s going to get bad, FAST.
* bc he also knows the words that will hit you where it hurts very well.
* he doesn’t use them against you, but he accidentally lets a sentence slip when he’s angry.
* and he knows he fucked up judging from the way you suddenly cut off and go silent.
* and when you storm out of the house with only your phone in your hand??? he’s kicking himself for what he did.
* bc he loves you so much and he hates himself what what he accidentally said.
* but when you don’t return after a few hours, he starts to get worried.
* so he leaves the house to search for you.
* like i said. he knows you very well. so he finds you at the playground near your apartment.
* he’s going up to you, and he’s pulling you into a tight hug, and he won’t let go even if you’re hitting him angrily.
* “i’m sorry,” he’s whispering to you, and pressing a soft kiss onto your forehead.
* “can we talk about it?” he quietly suggests after a short silence.
* he wants to talk things out with you, bc communication is KEY with him, and he doesn’t want you to leave him :(
* but anyway he works things out with you bc he gives in WAY too easily bc he loves you so much!!!
* and the two of you walk home together with his hand resting on your waist!!!!!
AHHH i hope this was okay anon!!!!!
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tennessoui · 3 years
Note
OOOOOOOOOH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
For the prompts - childhood best friend au bc i’m a sucker for them
- tealbluemagic
ah yikes i had thought and scripted like....two more scenes of them actually growing up (16/20 and 22/26) in my head dialogue and all but suddenly this was 2.3k because once again i was worldbuilding my cares away RIP!! palpatine was supposed to be the evil adviser it was gonna be great sad days.
2. Childhood best friends AU (medieval, fantasy, royalty AU--whichever term conveys the absolute zero amount of fact-checking that I have done)
They meet when Anakin is seven and Obi-Wan eleven.
Anakin’s tutor wants him to write lines. Again. According to the man, his letters do not look kingly enough.
Thank the gods that he set him to work and then left to flirt with the chambermaid. Otherwise, he probably would have had something very mean to say about the lack of kingliness that is required to climb out the window and down the ivy creeping up the castle.
Anakin lands on his feet and looks up in time to see his tutor’s red face in the window. “Prince Anakin!” The man yells, but no one is around to grab at him and he’s a very fast runner, even at the age of seven. He takes off to the gardens, laughing in joy at the freedom of it all.
Through the gardens and at the edge of the grounds are the stables. He’s not allowed to go there yet, because he is so small and the horses so big. It’ll be the last place they’ll check for him.
Anakin bursts through the doors and runs headlong into another boy, knocking him clean off his feet and into a pile of straw.
“Hey!” The boy shouts, shoving Anakin harshly off of him, face turning almost as red as his hair. Anakin blinks stupidly up at him as he rises and puts his hands on hips. “Who do you think you are?”
“I come seeking shelter and refuge as the prince of the kingdom of Tatooine,” Anakin blurts out the phrase he’s been taught to say should he ever find himself in danger in a new land.
Both of the boy’s eyebrows go up, and he looks scared for a second, which Anakin doesn’t understand. He’s much bigger than Anakin is and he’s still standing all angry over him. If anything, Anakin should be the one scared.
“Uh. Okay. Yeah, you can stay,” the boy says, backing away and crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “Just please don’t tell anyone I shoved you, your um highness. I need this job.”
Anakin lifts his hand so the boy can help him up, but the other boy doesn’t do anything but stare at it with a furrowed brow. “You may help me stand,” Anakin prompts him.
“Shouldn’t be touching no prince,” the boy mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “People can get killed for less.”
“Well, I want you to help me,” Anakin says, glaring at the boy who’s being very stubborn and silly right now. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
The boy looks skeptical, but takes his hand in his.
“What’s your name?” He asks him as he brushes off his fine clothes.
Now the boy just looks reluctant, but he must know better than to disobey a command from his sovereign, even when the sovereign in question is a child, because he crosses his arms over his chest and mumbles out, “Obi-Wan, milord.”
“I’m Anakin,” Anakin says, even though the boy probably knows this. It’s still only polite and his mother has always told him that being polite is one of the best things a prince can be.
“Yeah,” the boy says. Maybe his mother had never given him the same lesson. “I have to get back to work now, milord,” he turns before Anakin dismisses him, which is quite unheard of. Maybe Obi-Wan’s never been to court. Judging by the state of his clothes and the dirt on his face and beneath his nails, Anakin decides that’s probably true.
“What are you doing?” Anakin asks curiously, following behind the boy. It’s just he doesn’t meet a lot of boys his age and sure, this boy seems a bit mean and certainly at least a little uncivilized, but he still let Anakin stay.
“Shoveling horse shit,” Obi-Wan says. “Would you like to help?”
Anakin wrinkles his nose. “What’s up there?” he asks, pointing to a ladder as they pass it.
“That’s where we keep the hay. And it’s where I sleep.”
“You sleep here?”
Obi-Wan doesn’t respond, but his cheeks grow a dull sort of red.
Tactfully, Anakin changes the subject. “What else do you do?”
“Feed the horses, brush them, put them out to pasture, call them in, brush them again,” Obi-Wan lists. “When a nobleman wants to ride, I tack up their steed for them.”
A horse blows out a breath, right near Anakin’s face and he flinches, clinging onto the back of Obi-Wan’s shirt automatically. “And they let you?” he asks, trying to sound like he isn’t frightened.
“They don’t have much choice,” Obi-Wan says, smiling a bit as if something is funny. “Bit of a luxury around here, choice is.”
“What happens if they don’t?” Anakin asks, deciding to not let go of Obi-Wan’s shirt. Any proper gentleman or lady would have offered to let him hold their hand by now, but Obi-Wan is rough around the edges. Anakin finds that he doesn’t mind much.
Obi-Wan casts a look at him from the corner of his eye that Anakin doesn’t know how to interpret. “They get whipped.”
Anakin gasps in shock. “That’s so barbaric!”
The other boy snorts and shakes his head, as if Anakin is just too dumb to understand. “What are you doing here, little Prince?” Obi-Wan asks as he finishes dumping a pail of water into a horse’s bucket. “Why're you running?”
“My tutor was being absolutely awful,” Anakin replies with a pout. Obi-Wan hums, grabbing a shovel from where it’s leaned against a wooden door and carrying it to an empty stall. He follows him, wanting a proper response from the other boy. All that writing had been hurting his hand! The tutor is so unfair and mean and evil, and Anakin deserved to be treated with dignity and respect!
He tells all of this to Obi-Wan as he paces in the tight space of the stall, the other boy occasionally making noises to show he’s listening as he goes about his work.
“I don’t know what sort of problem he has with my letters! I know all of them now! Isn’t that enough?” Anakin asks angrily, crossing his arms. He’s tired and wants to sit down, but it smells poorly here. Maybe he can convince Obi-Wan to go to the ponds with him?
But Obi-Wan pauses, leaning against the handle of his shovel to look at Anakin. “You shouldn’t be complainin’ about getting to learn to read and write,” Obi-Wan says and then hastily tacks on, “milord.”
“But I don’t like it, and I shouldn’t have to do things I don’t like,” Anakin protests.
Obi-Wan smiles in a funny way. “You think I like shoveling shit, do you? But someone has to do it.”
“Are you saying that someone has to read and w--”
Obi-Wan interrupts him loudly. No one’s ever really done that before.
“I’m sayin’ that reading and writing is a...a privilege, milord.” He says the word privilege like he hasn’t ever said it before, like someone had said it around him and he’d memorized the sound and played it back in his head every night.
Anakin pouts, and Obi-Wan must see the look on his face because he softens his voice when he speaks again. “There’re...people who would kill for a teacher and they got none. If I was you, I wouldn’t ever leave my lessons early.”
Anakin crosses his arms. “But you’re not me. And I get to do whatever I want.”
It’s like a wall comes up between them. “That’s a luxury too, milord,” Obi-Wan says, turning away. “Excuse me. I need to work.”
The way he says this makes it clear that he doesn’t want Anakin around him anymore. “Fine!” Anakin snaps, face pulled up into a scowl. He pushes past Obi-Wan as hard as he can, hoping he can make the boy fall again, and leaves the way he’s come.
How dare the little stable boy try to correct Anakin’s behavior, when he’s the one with dirt all over his face!
He storms back to the castle and is in a horrifically terrible mood the entire rest of the night, right up until he goes to bed. Obi-Wan doesn’t know anything about anything, Anakin tries to reassure himself. He should have never met him.
He flips onto his side in bed, scowling even harder when his eyes alight onto the practice papers his tutor had left for him.
In his mind, Obi-Wan’s words repeat even louder. If I was you, I wouldn’t ever leave my lessons early.
Anakin rolls away until he can stare up at the ceiling.
He’d wanted a friend, but Obi-Wan clearly hadn’t wanted Anakin there at all. He wouldn’t have made a good friend at all. Anakin should just forget him.
But he can’t. He wants Obi-Wan to like him, although he can’t understand why or how to proceed.
He flips back to face the room again, too restless for sleep.
Inspiration strikes quite suddenly, making him sit up in his bed.
There’s one thing he could do that would make Obi-Wan like him. But there’s no time to waste.
He hastily dresses in his discarded clothes from yesterday and grabs two of the books on his desk. There’s a leather satchel hanging from his wardrobe that he’s never used before, but it’s the perfect size now. He slings it over his little shoulders and leaves as quietly as he can.
It’s a dangerous but relatively short journey back to the stables. The gardens look much scarier at night, but Anakin is being so brave about it. He’s on a quest. He clutches his satchel to his chest at every jumping shadow, but he makes it to the stable door and then through it.
The ladder he had pointed out earlier is a few steps into the barn, past two stalls. The horses look much scarier now that he’s here alone; their eyes seem to glow in the dark. He scuttles past them and grabs at the first wooden beam. Obi-Wan. He’s doing this for Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan, who is asleep among the hay, just at the top of the ladder. He’s curled up beneath a couple of blankets. He looks angry even in his sleep.
Anakin crawls forward and shakes him awake.
“Wha--” Obi-Wan jerks up.
Anakin clutches his package to his chest and sits cross-legged in front of him. “It’s me!”
“What?” The other boy asks, rubbing at his eyes. Anakin pouts. Has Obi-Wan really forgotten him in such a short period of time? That’s hardly fair, considering the fact that Anakin has not stopped thinking of him at all.
“It’s Anakin,” he says. “I came back.”
“Why?” Obi-Wan asks, squinting at him in the light of the moon that filters through the single window.
Anakin pouts harder. “I brought my stuff,” he says. It had seemed like such a brilliant idea, not even an hour ago, but in the face of Obi-Wan’s incredulity, Anakin only feels stupid. He pulls out the books anyway. “I thought. Well. That maybe I could teach you.”
Obi-Wan sits up all the way at this and bends forward to study the covers, although Anakin is sure he doesn’t understand the letters written on them. .
“Teach me?” Obi-Wan asks.
Anakin huffs. This is going to become quite a tedious conversation if all Obi-Wan does is repeat fragments of what Anakin says. “To read and to write.”
“Why?” he asks, but different than he had asked before.
He doesn’t think because I want you to like me would satisfy Obi-Wan now, and even Anakin knows it’s a rather weak explanation.
“Because...you want to know,” Anakin settles on saying, “and my mother always says that a king should do what he can to satisfy the desires of the kingdom.”
“Oh well,” Obi-Wan scoffs. “If the Queen says so.”
Anakin withdraws, stung at the other boy’s standoffish attitude. “Never mind,” he mumbles, reaching for the satchel to put away the books. “It was stupid.”
Obi-Wan’s hand flashes out to stop him. “No,” he says. “No, I’m sorry. I. Thank you, milord for this. You don’t know what you’re offering.”
“I’m offering you some lessons,” Anakin responds slowly. Maybe Obi-Wan had missed that part?
In the moonlight, Obi-Wan’s smile breaks across his face like a sunrise. “Of course, milord.”
“Call me Anakin,” Anakin demands. He wants a friend, not someone who will bow to his title or shy away from his crown. He wants an equal, a familiar. He wants Obi-Wan to treat him as if they carried the same amount of dirt and grime on their skin.
“Of course, Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispers, like he’s breaking a rule and afraid he’ll get caught. “But….”
“But what?” Anakin asks, scooting closer now that he knows he probably won’t be kicked off the loft to be fed to the horses in the morning.
“Did you bring a light to read by?” Obi-Wan asks, looking around his bare accommodations.
Anakin bites his lip and looks too, but the search is fruitless. “Well,” he says. “No.” The truth is that in the castle there’s always light when he needs light. There are always servants, ready to bustle in and solve his slightest inconvenience. He had never thought of light as a--what had Obi-Wan said earlier? A luxury.
“Oh,” Obi-Wan whispers, tracing the cover of the book with something like longing.
“I’ll come back tomorrow,” Anakin finds himself promising. “I’ll bring a candle or something. I will. Tomorrow night.”
“Really?” The other boy’s voice seems to get caught in his throat because it comes out sounding much weaker and higher than it ever has.
Anakin nods. He would. He’d come back every night for the rest of his life if it meant Obi-Wan would like him, if it meant they could be friends. “I promise,” he says, reaching out with his smallest finger.
Obi-Wan looks at it for a second before linking their fingers together. “Okay, milord,” he says. “I believe you.”
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toraashi · 3 years
Text
‘tis the damn season (ft. oikawa tooru)
Pairing: Oikawa x Reader
Genre/Warnings: angst, fluff, implications of sex (there’s no sexual dialogue, the most explicit it gets is i use the word “whimper” once but theres not even graphic descriptions like i rate this PG-13), a couple swears
Word Count: 1.5k
Summary: part two to this fic. Oikawa visits for the holidays after leaving for Argentina years ago. Catching up with his old flame brings back memories and reminds him of a love lost
Author’s Note: this is inspired by ‘tis the damn season by Taylor Swift. It’s so good, please listen to it, it’ll add so much to the story because I reference it lots :) also i’m dedicating this to @hikariakaashi bc she agreed to be my valentine this year hehe 🥰 also @u-make-my-heart-tsumtsum​ thank you for hyping this up in the discord :))
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“the road not taken looks real good now, and it always leads to you.”
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"Hey, it's Tooru. I'm in town for the holidays. I'd like to see you."
The sound of his voice as the audio repeated left an unpleasant feeling in his chest. It burned like longing but twisted and lurched like nervosity, a sensation he pretended he wasn't familiar with. Oikawa wasn't a nervous person. He was a confident, suave man with the world in his hands, but for some reason, leaving a voicemail for someone this dear to him, who could see through him like glass, left a slight tremble in his fingers. 
The ding of his phone startled him, muscles growing taut. 
10:36am
It's been so long! I'd love to see you. Would 4 at that old coffee shop work?
received
Holy shit. 
It was almost embarrassing how his breath caught and his heart stuttered. It had been years, but yet here he was, hooked in with every word.
10:40am
I'll make it work 
sent
10:42am
That's a first ;) i'll see you then 
received 
The coffee shop hadn't changed much since he'd last been. The walls were still straining with the wooden roof's weight, the floor still comprised of creaky floorboards that screeched at each drag of a chair. Sparkling red and green lights decked the rafters, hanging low and casting unique shadows across the residents. The lobby was relatively empty, and he was seated quickly at a metal table near the window. The round teapoy rocked on uneven legs when he put his arms on it, but nostalgia made up for the shoddy furniture quality. The poignant smells and whispers of piano music wafted over him like a tender memory, leaving him with visions of your sunrise smile and golden touch breezing over his fingertips. Content was the next emotion that settled over him, but before he could melt too far into it, the bell on the door jingled. Chilly winter air rushed through his hair, waking him up from the dream that was the last few years and bringing him back home. In the blink of an eye, a familiar arm was pulling at the seat in front of him. It took his brain far too long to process the rosy cheeks and snow-dusted hair before him, but once he did, an infectious grin tugged at his lips.
"Long time, no see." Your gaze was cautious and guarded, and it burned holes in his euphoria. 
"Long time, no see," you repeated with a light smile, "How have you been?" 
"Ah, you know, just capturing the hearts of every person in Argentina, how are you?" That earned him a tinkling laugh, and his heart beamed at the reward. 
"I'm doing okay, just living my life." You greeted the waitress, plainly speaking your order, pausing to glance at him before ordering his old favorite. Honey hues glittered with unspoken fondness when you caught his gaze; he couldn't help it.
"You remembered my order. I feel special."
"Shut up. You are special, Mr. Pro Volleyball Player." You teased, inching your fingertips towards him on the table. It wasn't enough to be wanton, but he noticed, and he couldn't help but reciprocate. Eyes flicking to his hands and back up, that cautious glaze returned. "So, are you staying in town?" A warm hum in affirmation thrummed in his throat.
"I'm staying at my parents' house." 
"For how long?" The words seemed full, but he wasn't sure with what. 
"Just the weekend." He held your gaze like a taut string tugging you closer and closer. The air felt heavy, and his heart ached with a longing he'd suppressed for years. You opened your mouth to speak, but before anything came out, he interjected boldly. After all, what was he, if not bold? "I got your letter." Hues big and lips parted, a pink flush climbed your cheeks. If he was the same person he was years ago, he would've teased you, but now? With his heart on his sleeve and your eyes staring into his soul, how could he muster that courage up?
"And?" The single word was meek and tentative, fragile like the little bird of your unyielding love. 
"Well, for one, your attempt at scratching out the last line wasn't great." There was the teasing. He couldn't hold it back for long. 
"Shut up." You shied away from his crinkled eyes, pinker than you were when you stumbled in. God, he missed this.
"I won't." He drawled, closing the narrow distance between your fingertips and enveloping your hands like it didn't electrify his nerves. "And for the record, I missed you too." 
"Did you?" He rubbed a calloused finger across your knuckles, holding your eyes confidently. 
"How could I not miss that pretty face?" 
"Stop teasing." You pouted.
"I'm not." Pensively, you stared back at him, and he admired the furrow of your eyebrows, the puff of your pouted cheeks. Your smaller hands were quaking in his, and just as he considered laying off, you spoke a conglomeration of words that shuddered up his spine.
"Would you like to stay at mine for the night? We can catch up more? I don't want to leave you just yet." A genuine smile simmered up his lips, and he linked his fingers between yours.
"You know I can't say no to you." 
"Didn't seem like it when you left." The magic in his chest faltered at the blow, but the regret was evident in your expression. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I know it was about more than me." he hummed, the affectionate graze of his thumb against your knuckles resuming. 
The conversation felt much too short, every move you made clenching his heart, brimming it with innocent nostalgia and longing. Before long, you were tugging him out the door, leading him to your apartment in a movie-worthy montage. The silver moonlight caught your hair like silk, your gossamer grip on his wrist balmy and familiar. 
"My, you're eager." When you glanced back, your eyes sparkled like the sequins on your prom getup from so many years ago. 
"Is it stupid that I missed you so much?" The way his heart caught in his throat was almost painful. Chest aching, he concluded that this was what happiness felt like, a hummingbird flutter he'd never find in the falsities of fame. You, who knew him like the muddy road to your secret high-school hangout spot, looked ethereal beneath the moon's knowing smile. As you approached the door, he couldn't help but dip his toes into the subdued desire he'd grown to ignore. 
Your chest pressing into his, your back to the door, his fingertips firm against your waist, and finally, the brush of your reposeful kiss against his needy lips, it left him with frantic desperation clawing up his body. You broke away with a similar gleam tucked into your gaze like a secret just for him. Swinging the door open and fumbling with your jacket, you found your place in his arms again, a mutual craving for a love that was cut so short.
He did many things that night he'd only remembered in dreams, his frame pressing your familiar figure into the bed, lips tracing every line of your silhouette, the dips and curves in your skin, sealing each forgotten memory in an envelope for him to read later. Just for tonight, he'd bask in your entirety, the glow of your smile, the whimpers that spilled past your pretty lips, everything that was purely you. When everything was done and gone, the flaxen glow of your lamplight flickering out, you pulled him into your arms, twirling the chocolate strands of his hair, breathing in his adoration, your own lulling him into a long-awaited, dream-filled slumber. He dreamed of his past self getting lost in the empty arms of another, the void carved out by your existence impossible to fill. He dreamed of the life he'd lead if he'd remained in your embrace, waking up to you every morning instead of cold sheets. 
He awoke with the December sun, your bare skin blinding in the morning's glow. Glancing at the red numbers on your nightstand, he stretched his arms. It was almost ten, but the warmth of your body reeled him back in like a fishing pole, his mouth splattering kisses across your visage like freckles. Swelling with delight, he collected you into his arms, setter's fingers revisiting the map he drew on your body like the ink was still drying, greeting you with a grin as your eyes lolled open. 
"Morning, babe." Oikawa scanned the love-struck expression painting your features, the scrunch of your nose, the quirk of your lips; he inhaled it like it was his last breath, coming to terms with the time and its draining sand. Raising a lone finger, he followed the shape of your jawline, locking your chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Sleep well?" You neglected to respond, searching his gaze. 
"If this is the last time I ever see you, I want you to know that I've always loved you, and I won't ask you to stay." The last grain of sand in the hourglass tumbled through the glass gap, the alarm clock on your nightstand beeping abruptly, stealing Oikawa's breath. 
And as he looked upon your effervescent figure, shattering his own battered heart at the realization, Oikawa decided the road not taken never looked more appealing than now.
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lovieebby · 4 years
Text
Baby’s Day
Victorian Era!Daddy!Henry Cavill x Little!Reader AU
Summary: Henry takes a day off, which surprises Judy. But you’re not complaining.
WC: 1.1k
Warnings: 18+ !!! Smut smut smut !! vaginal penetration, daddy kink, kinda little reader, mention of cum & fucking filth
Note: This is from @pinksdaydream and I’s concepts of Vic!Daddy!Henry x Little!Reader (inspo from those Sherlock pics of Henry) and I had to write some smut for them bc I need y’all to know my need for vic Hen 😩 Please enjoy and if you like it, let me and Meda know!! We love this shit! Oof and Judy is Readers babysitter!
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Judy was surprised when she opened her door and you weren’t standing eagerly on the other side. You were such an early bird where you always met Judy at her door as Henry got ready for work.
Judy decided to gather up her skirts and walk up the long staircase, her heels clicking urgently as she walked. She couldn’t pinpoint on why she felt anxious that you didn’t greet her at her bedroom door. Her mind sped through multiple scenarios a million miles a minute.
Have you fallen ill? Have you been grounded to your room? Have you—
Judy’s thoughts came to a halt as she neared the thick wooden door, her face flushed at your blissed whimpers. She stilled a few feet away from the door and prayed you weren’t pleasuring yourself. She hadn’t had to reprimand you for that quite yet, and she was hoping it wasn’t now in the moment.
As her knuckles came inches away from the wood she stilled once again and flushed hotter as she heard matched groans from Henry.
“That’s it, you like that don’t you my pet?” Henry’s muffled voice shot through the door, grunts and skin slapping echoing out underneath the door.
“Y-yes si-sir!”
Judy’s lips sucked into her mouth as her eyes widened in embarrassment when she heard the synchronized moans. She swiftly grabbed her skirts once again and trotted down the stairs, this time making sure they were more quiet to not disrupt the love making.
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Henry had purposely taken a sick day to focus entirely on you and your needs. He had felt guilty for working so much to where his touch felt foreign to you, he loathed it, making him angered with himself. Henry wanted to remind you of his undying love anyway he could, whether it was sleeping in with you or keeping you all to himself.
Henry’s goal was the latter.
At first he started slow, rubbing your skin lovingly, kissing you awake and whispering sweet words into the quiet air. When you fully awoke, his gentleness turned into a need to have you withering beneath him, his cock leaving you unable to walk.
You lost track of how many orgasms you’ve given him, his cock was the only thing you could focus on. His eyelids fluttered closed for a short moment while he shushed your moans with his hand, his jaw clenched tight as he grumbled out a spew of curses.
You mewled his name, short breaths leaving your nose roughly as Henry thrusted up into your heated cunt. Your walls fluttered violently as the familiar pressure of your upcoming release made itself known.
“Daddy please! I have to cum again!” You whined out around his palm, back arching into his chest as his breathing deepened over you.
One of your hands was attempting to keep you still as it was placed flat on the padded headboard, the other clenched around Henry’s wrist. He left out a groan, his chest heaving in shakes as he watched you
“Let me feel it baby, come on! Do it for daddy.” He grunted loudly, his thrusts hard, creating loud slaps in the air from your spread thighs and his.
Your cunt made lewd noises as he pushed and pulled from you. Your legs shook as Henry picked them up and put them over his shoulders, only to push further into your cervix. You let out a drawn scream as you felt your release pour from your puffed folds, soaking yourself and Henry.
“Yes yes yes! Such a good fucking girl.” Henry chanted through his teeth, groaning out a growl as his eyes closed in a roll.
He took his hand off your heated mouth and roughly grabbed your hips with both on his hands and tilted them up higher to his. Henry soon came with a grunt, his hips stilling as his cock pressed sweetly into your cervix.
You feel your belly swell just a touch as his cum paints your walls, making you let out a strangled mewl. Henry breathed in the smell of your mixed sweat and releases, the scent made him bite his lip with a deep growl. He watched your damp skin shake and struggle to breath clearly.
“Now, what do you say to daddy when he fills you up? Hmm?” Henry pants out, his curls crazed on top of his head, some sticking to his temples with sweat. He leans back and gives you a triumphant smile while his eyes graze over your fucked out body, his tongue licking his teeth as you wither on his still hard cock.
“Th-thank you daddy.” You spoke out above a whisper, your hands searching for his as your breath catches in your throat.
Henry intertwined his fingers with yours as he gave you a gentle kiss on your heated forehead. He gives you one last thrust before he slowly pulls out of your fluttering pussy, a groan matching your hissed whine.
“Come on my love, we need to get something in that belly and not just my seed.” He grumbled into your skin, pulling your legs down as he straightened his back to sit up. “We’ll cuddle later, I promise sweet baby.”
You whine out when you stretch your aching legs, watching the once red marks on your hips turn to an angry bruise. You rubbed the tender spot while Henry got off the bed and went to the splayed clothing littered around the floor, searching for something, not ruined preferably, to wear.
You gasped when you sat up and met your reflection in the mirror. “You were rough with me daddy.”
Dark bruises from Henry’s suckling kisses formed around your throat and down your chest, some slightly smaller than the rest. You trailed your fingers around them in awe. You weren’t mad by any means, you found them pretty and erotic as they met the early morning light peeking through the slits of the curtains.
Henry let out a chuckle, “I’m sorry pet, I’ve just missed you so much.” He said, coming in between your legs with a shirt, his shirt to be exact, but yours nonetheless.
You hummed with a soft smile. You raised your arms when Henry tilted his head up in a silent command to do so, he slipped it on you and pulled the ends of your hair teasingly once your head poked through the neckline. As Henry busied himself with his clothing, you stood up and walked to the door, turning around when Henry tisked at you.
“Ah ah! Hold on little pet.” Henry stilled you as he squatted down to the backs of your knees with a cloth.
You looked down and let out a giggle as you saw the mixed cum trail down your thighs.
“You’re making a mess.” He sighed, a smirk pulling at his lips. He cleaned you up quickly and threw the small cloth to the floor, kissing up your abused skin as he stood up behind you.
You opened the door and walked to the stairs with Henry behind you. The home was eerily quiet, making you slightly nervous that everyone might have heard you and your daddy’s moans and the bed slamming on the wall. You stood at the railing and leaned over slightly to see if anyone was around the corner of the front entrance.
Henry followed your gaze with a frown, it soon turned into an amusing smirk. “If they heard, they heard. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
You snapped your head to him as he shrugged, a mortified look painted your features while his in pure cockiness. Henry laughed and petted your cheek, his thumb rubbing your cheek bone and pinching the skin before he pulled away.
As Henry made his way down the stairs, he stopped at the middle stair and saw you still standing at the top. You nervously played with the hem of the shirt, cautious of who was up and who would have heard you. He raised a brow and waved his fingers for you to follow, you reluctantly followed the command and curled your arms around his bicep.
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dreamypeaches · 4 years
Text
don’t wake up pt. 2 | rafe cameron x reader
summary: after spending the week hoping to see rafe again, sarah invites you to a sleepover at tannyhill.
warnings: SMUT, cursing, alcohol use
word count: 2.8k
a/n: thank you all for the wonderful response to part 1! this is my first time posting smut, so let me know what you think of it. i honestly think i did a good job rereading it, bc it is hot. there will definitely be one or two more parts to this, maybe even more idk. all i know for sure is there will be a lot more sexy times. enjoy :)
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It had been a week since the Boneyard kegger and you couldn’t get Rafe out of your head. You hadn’t seen him since that night, at least not in real life. Your dreams, however, were plagued with him. The way his hands had gripped your hips, his lips on your lips, your neck, imagining how they would feel on other parts of your body.
Part of you had been tempted to drive down to Figure 8 and “run into him” somewhere. One morning, after an especially steamy dream, you almost asked Sarah for his number. But then you thought of the questions that would come with that request and decided against it. You felt pathetic, pining after a guy you’d spent a couple hours with. A guy who, by all accounts was an asshole and hated people like you. Why would he want a Pogue like you?
Still, you wanted to see him. At least once. Just look in his eyes and see if that same spark was there. You had even tagged along with JJ during the day more often than usual, hoping Rafe and his Kook friends would appear to antagonize one of your best friends. But he was nowhere to be seen. As the week came to a close, you resigned yourself to experiencing his touch in your dreams only.
You were laying in the hammock at the Chateau listening to music with Kie, who laid beside you lazily braiding your hair, when Sarah suddenly appeared. She practically jumped onto you and Kie’s laps, a grin on her face.
“Let’s have a girls night!” She proclaimed, “Ward and Rose are taking Wheezie and her friend on a mini vacation on the mainland, so I have Tannyhill all to myself!”
“What about Rafe?” You asked, trying to fill your voice with disdain rather than hope. Sarah scoffed and rolled her eyes.
“Don’t worry about him, I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother us. So?”
You and Kie looked at each other. Kie raised her eyebrows, a smirk on her face. You smiled back and nodded. Both of you looked back at Sarah.
“We’re in!” Kie said.
“Yay!” Sarah pulled both of you into a hug, already unleashing all of her plans for the night. After telling you to be there at 6, she left to prepare for the night.
“It’s been so long since we’ve had a night just us girls. I mean, I love the boys, but I could use a break from them,” Kie said, finishing the braid in your hair.
“Yeah, fuck the boys,” You giggled, though in your head, you were much more focused on one particular boy than the girls night ahead of you.
Kie drove you to Sarah’s house, arriving at 6:30. Kie complained about how long it took you to get ready for a sleep over. You just laughed and told her you needed to look good for your girls. If she had know the truth, her head might have exploded. You had worn your cutest pair of pajamas, a large shirt with short shorts that left little to the imagination. You’d even done your make up. Not much, keeping it natural. After all, it was a sleep over, you didn’t need to go all out.
You were disappointed when you didn’t see Rafe as you walked in, but assumed Sarah had probably threatened him with violence if he came anywhere near her friends. You tried not to let thoughts of Rafe distract you, actually wanting to enjoy the night with your best girl friends. Sarah had stolen a couple bottles of wine from her dad’s wine cellar, passing around wine glasses before heading up to her room.
The three of you quickly became tipsy on the wine, giggling at little things. You all were laying on Sarah’s large bed, giggling at Sarah’s sexual mishap with John B in the Twinkie.
“I thought my nipple was going to come off! Like I’m sorry, I know it probably hurt when I kneed your dick, but who bites a nipple that hard? So, moral of the story, never have sex in the back of the van.”
You and Kie burst into laughter, while Sarah contained her giggles, trying her best to look annoyed.
“What about you two? Any sexy stories to share? Y/N, what about that Touron from the kegger?”
Your laughter quickly faded as Rafe was brought to the forefront of your mind. You bit your lip, trying to hide a smile.
“Nothing happened, I haven’t seen him since that night.”
“Well, you need to track him down!” Kie exclaimed, sitting up on her elbow to look down at you. You just shrugged, not meeting your friend’s eyes.
“Y/N, you should have seen the look on your face when we were leaving. You had literal stars in your eyes.”
You shrugged and downed the rest of you wine, sitting up on the bed.
“I don’t know. If I run into him again, we’ll see what happens. I’m gonna go get some water.”
Sarah started asking Kie about the girl she had been talking to as you padded out of the room and down the stairs.
You made your way to the kitchen, where a happy surprise waited for you. Rafe stood cooking something at the stove. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants. His back was facing you, giving you a moment to take in his form. Your eyes wandered his body, tracing his biceps and the curve on his shoulder blade.
“Hi, Rafe,” You finally said, just loud enough for him to hear. He turned suddenly, surprised expression quickly turning to a smirk. You looked into his green eyes and felt your heart jump when you saw it. That spark you’d been hoping for for the past week.
“Hey,” he replied. You slowly made your way to the cupboard, making sure to brush up against him as you passed.
“How’ve you been?” He asked. You shrugged, filling up your glass at the fridge.
“I’ve been better. I’ve been a little lonely, especially at night, you know? My mind starts to wander to certain places,” You moved back over to Rafe. Your chests were almost touching as he smirked down at you. His breath fanned across your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Maybe you need a little company,” He whispered, his low tone going straight to your core. You smiled at him innocently, moving so your lips were inches apart.
“Yeah I do.”
You noticed him start to lean in and quickly pulled away, skipping towards the stairs.
“That’s why I’m having girls night,” You called, keeping the innocent look on you face. His light eyes had grown dark, watching as you moved away. They followed the curve of you ass, very evident in the shorts you were wearing. You inwardly smirked at the effect you had and started up the stairs.
“Your grilled cheese is burning, by the way,” You called. You giggled at the quiet shit he let out and made your way back to Sarah’s room.
You, Kie, and Sarah spent the next several hours having as much fun as you could. After a few dance parties, a couple rounds of truth or dare, and intense argument about whether Hannah Montana or Miley Cyrus was better that almost turned violent, you all collapsed on to the bed, turning on a random movie. Sarah and Kie fell asleep quickly, but you were wide awake, replaying the moment with Rafe in the kitchen.
You rubbed your thighs together, wanting nothing more than for Rafe to touch you. With a groan, you hopped out the bed and quietly escaped Sarah’s room. You had been to Sarah’s house several times before, but your knowledge of the layout was reduced to the path from the kitchen to Sarah’s room. You tiptoed down the hallway, trying to figure out which room was his. You a few doors down from Sarah’s, you could see a faint light from beneath the door frame. You knocked a couple times, then stood, waiting. It didn’t take long for Rafe to open the door. He was still shirtless, but had removed his sweatpants, leaving him in just his boxers. He smirked down at you, a hand coming up to cup the back of your head.
“You fucking tease,” He said before crashing his lips onto yours. You were almost knocked off your feet by the force of it. You placed your hands on his chest to stabilize yourself. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. Without breaking the kiss, he moved you into his room, kicking the door closed behind him. His hand moved down to your ass, gripping hard as he lightly slammed you against the wall. He broke the kiss, brushing your hair out of your face as his eyes examined your flustered face. The same hand slowly moved down your cheek until it was gripping your jaw, forcing you to look at him.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful. Do you have any idea what you do to me? I haven’t stopped thinking about you all week, how I wanted to fuck you while you screamed my name.”
You let out a whimper at his words, breathing uneven. You could feel your panties become more and more soaked as his hand moved from your ass to your hip, playing with the waist band of your shorts.
“Then you come into my kitchen wearing this, getting me all worked up.” He laughed humorlessly, his hand diving below your waistband. His fingers ghosted across the soaked fabric that covered your center.
“Got yourself all worked up too, didn’t you?”
Your panties were pushed to the side, giving him space to run his fingers through your folds. You let out a moan as you nodded. His finger came up to his lips, sucking your wetness from them.
“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you,” He said before going on his knees in front of you. His breath fanned against your inner thighs as he slowly slid your shorts down your thighs. When they landed on the floor, you stepped out of them and kicked them across the floor. Rafe placed gentle kisses across your thighs and stomach, avoiding the spot you needed him most. You whimpered as his mouth hovered over your clothed clit.
“What do you want, baby?” Rafe said.
“Touch me, Rafe, please, I need you!” You moaned out. He was quick to respond, fingers deftly moving your underwear aside, giving him space to wrap his lips around your sensitive bundle, lightly sucking. You moaned so loudly it was almost a scream. Rafe gave a hard slap to your ass in response, looking up at you.
“Uh uh, not too loud, angel. Don’t want your friends to hear, do you?”
You shook your head quickly, hand reaching down to push him closer to your pussy. He chuckled before compiling, licking a strip up your center, thumb moving to rub circles against your clit. Your head fell back against the wall as he continued his movements. His tongue delved into you, flicking in and out. One of his arms wrapped around your thigh, holding you up while spreading you wider. You were already a mess of pleasure when he slowly pushed two fingers into you, tongue moving up to you clit. You bit your lip to surpress your moans, but it was difficult as his fingers started to move faster. It became too much and a single, long moan escaped your mouth. Rafe’s movements ceased. He removed his fingers from you and stood up, hand gripping your hair, pulling it to where there was more pleasure than pain,
“What the fuck did I say?” He asked. Your tried to rub your thighs together, trying to regain the friction you had lost, but he moved his leg between your own.
“I’m sorry, Rafe. Please, I’ll be quiet, I promise,” You whimpered.
He smirked at you.
“Yes you will.”
He kissed you again, tongue dominating your own as he explored your mouth. He dragged you to the bed, throwing you down on your back before returning to his knees, pulling you to the edge of the mattress. He nearly ripped your panties off, mouth diving back to taste your dripping center. His hand reached up, clasping over your mouth, while the other returned to your entrance, fingers fucking you roughly. It didn’t take long before you felt the coil in your stomach tighten. Your screams were muffled behind Rafe’s hand as he continued to lick and suck on your clit, fingers pounding into you. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you came on his fingers. You felt him smirk as you clenched around him, but his movement didn’t let up. He moved his hand up under your shirt to massage your breast while his tongue moved down to fuck your entrance. He went back an forth between your entrance and you clit, hand moving between both your breasts to roughly massage them. Your second orgasm came fast and hard, leaving you with stars behind your eyes as he lapped up your juices.
He moved up your body, biting and sucking across your torso, leaving bright red and purple marks like constellations. He reached your face and removed his hand, kissing you hard and allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. He broke away, pulling your shirt over head and throwing it to the side before standing up, pulling his boxers off. You bit your lip as you stared at his cock, wanting nothing more than to wrap your lips around it. He stroked himself a few times, taking in your fuck out look and the hungry look in your eyes.
“Don’t worry, baby, you’ll get to taste my cock later. Right now, I want to feel you.”
He reached into his bedside table and pulled out a condom. He ripped it open and rolled it over his dick, stroking it a few for times. He stood over you, eyes once again raking over your body.
“God, look at you. You’re gonna take me so good.” He leaned over you, hand coming up to grip your throat. A moan started to escape your lips at the pressure, but he caught it with a kiss. He pushed himself into you as he kissed you, giving you little time to adjust to his size before he started pounding into you. He broke the kiss, holding himself up on his forearm as he thrusted into you. His hand tightened around your throat, muffling your loud moans slightly, leaving the only other sound in the room to be the slapping of skin and the dirty words Rafe whispered in your ear.
“Fuck, you’re so tight.”
“I’ve been wanting to fuck you like this for days.”
“Feel so much better than in my dreams, baby.”
“Taking that cock so well.”
After several minutes, his hand moved from your throat down to you clit, rubbing fast circles into it. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as his thrusts became harder, hitting that spot inside of you. You were so close. His thrusts were becoming sloppy, you could tell he was close too. He leaned down again, fingers still working your clit, and whispered, “Cum all over my dick, angel.”
You did as you were told, coming with a scream of his name, for a moment not caring if Kie and Sarah heard. Rafe wasn’t far behind you. He suddenly pulled out, making you whimper at the sudden emptiness. He removed the condom from himself and gave a few short stroked before coming across your chest and stomach.
“Fuck,” He whispered, more to himself than you. You heard him walk to the joining bathroom, but didn’t pay much attention. Your eyes were shut tight, trying to catch you breath and come to terms with what just happened. You just fucked Rafe Cameron. Hard. And, if you’re being honest with yourself, it was the best sex you’ve ever had.
Rafe returned with a wet towel, cleaning his cum off of you before collapsing beside you. He pulled back the covers and pulled you into his side under them. You rested your head on his chest, listening to his heart beat in his chest. His hand gently played with your hair, a stark contrast to his actions before.
You laid their in silence, neither of you knowing what to say. Eventually, you heard Rafe’s breath even out, quiet snores vibrating through his chest that you found adorable. You untangled yourself from his arm, slipping off the bed to gather your clothes and redress. Sneaking back to Sarah’s room, you hoped neither of the girls had noticed your absence, or heard you screaming Rafe’s name a few rooms down.
The next morning, Rafe woke feeling cold. He turned over to where you had been lying, the nights events running through his head and he hoped that it wasn’t just a dream. But he smiled when he noticed a yellow sticky note on the pillow beside him with a series of numbers and a note in your unique handwriting.
Text me :)
taglist: @bluesiderudy 
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