#it and the newest ones showed how its started to grow back and. god. FUCK. holy fucking h e l l. god this fucking h u r t s
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Forbidden Fruit
Description: The newest object of your affections happens to be Eddie; your father's closest friend!
A/N: this is just smut personified and I ain't even sorry. Enjoy it with caution, hells saving a mighty fine warm spot for you ;).
Warnings: age gap, Eddie's in his forties, reader implied 20s. Voyeurism, fingering, p in v unprotected sex (wrap the thingy, trust me I'm old)
5k words
Masterlist Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Delicate fingers are slipping under the waistband of your sleep shorts. You stroke at your soft skin, running in teasing patterns. Your body begins to react to your secret touches, downy hairs starting to stand on end as your skin prickles with sensation. Then your hand drifts lower, lower, until it meets your pubic hair. Massaging your breast with your other hand you try to relax and empty your mind, just focus on the feeling. Not that it works. All you see when you close your eyes is Eddie.
This is wrong. So fucking wrong. He was at least 20 years your senior. Hell, he was one of your father's closest friends. It may as well be forbidden. He probably thinks of you more like a daughter than a lover.
You couldn't help it though. Recently he was just looking so damn fine. You're not sure if it was just him getting better with age, or you growing up and appreciating the man in front of you. Either way, woof.
Your fingers find your clit as you think back to earlier today; the events of which hadn't been much help in quenching your mounting feelings. It had been a lovely day, the sun was beating down and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Eddie and your father had teamed up to do some of the yard work. Eddie was always on hand to help with any manual labour, or to fix things. He was really very good with those hands.
Well, it was a beautiful day, so sunbathing seemed perfectly acceptable behaviour, and not an excuse to be in the yard at all. Nuh uh. You'd headed outside in your skimpy red bikini, book in hand, and laid on a lounger keeping one eye on Eddie.
God, he'd looked particularly good today. His hair was grasped in a messy bun with a shock of grey and white visible through it. His stubble looked a few days old, peppering his chin and sharp jaw. Those eyes of his sparkled, a deep chocolate brown you wanted to dive into. Jeans clung to his muscular thighs, only wearing an old wife beater on top, showing off his tattoos and chiselled arms. There was a brief moment when he'd lifted up his vest to use it to wipe the sweat from his brow. Abs had gleamed in the midday sun, flexing and taunting you on purpose, or at least it had felt that way.
When your father had gone inside to grab them both a beer, Eddie had sauntered over to you and crouched right by your lounger. You had done everything you could to keep your face neutral, even though your head was screaming and flinging its metaphorical hands in the air.
"Hey sweetheart."
The gravel in his voice sent shivers down your spine.
"Hey Mr Munson." You responded, trying to keep your eyes on your book.
"How many times I gotta tell ya? Call me Eddie."
You glanced over and saw a slow grin creeping across his face, as he eyed you up and down. Is he checking me out?
Tearing his eyes away, he spoke again.
"So, where's the little boyfriend today?"
"What? Oh, him. We broke up. He was… selfish" you reminded yourself of all those disappointing encounters, flicking through your mind like a magazine of the mundane.
His grin widened at that.
"Oh, that's such a shame."
He sounded so sincere, but that smile of his was certainly telling a different story. You found yourself looking at the way his eyes crinkled when he grinned. Probably thought he wasn't good enough for me, just like father said.
It was like he'd read your mind.
"He wasn't good enough for you anyway."
"You think?"
He'd leaned into you, as if telling a secret. You could smell him, lingering sweat, aftershave and cigarettes. Drawn to him, you'd sat up and moved a little closer. His words were a whisper in your ear, his hot breath on your neck making your heart beat just a little too fast.
"What you need is a real man."
Mouth falling open, you snapped your head to face him. A quick wink and he was back on his feet, smiling at your father who had just returned from the kitchen. He had walked off without a glance back.
You press your clit harder at the memory of his words, your other hand snaking its way into your top to tease at your hardened nipple. A real man.
Was he talking about himself? Or had he just been teasing you for your taste in boys? Either way, his words had made you wet, your thighs clinging together in supplication.
Fuck it. If he was on your mind you may as well lean into it. Your thoughts wandered, making up scenarios in your head, thinking of those thick fingers replacing yours. Your speed on your clit doubles, thighs squeezing together. It still wasn't enough. There wasn't enough pressure.
Pulling your hand away in a huff, your eyes land on a cushion on your bed. Hmm, now that just might do.
Clambering to your bare knees, you straddle it, positioning the seam to sit just where you needed it.
Now, this was better. You could almost imagine him underneath you as you humped at his impressive length. You assume he had a huge cock. Well, he did in your fantasies anyway. Pulling your top off and away, you tease at your sensitive nipples, one hand keeping the cushion in place.
So close, you were so close. The warm feeling was pooling in your belly, your clit humming with desire. Scrunching your eyes shut and whimpering, a particularly good rub had you moaning out "Eddie!"
Unfortunately, you had failed to hear the approaching footsteps.
"Yeah sweetheart?"
Frozen, you can only watch in abject horror as your bedroom door swings open and the object of your fantasies is standing in the door frame.
"Oh shit, I thought- did you just say my name?" He seems split between looking away and getting an eyeful.
Grasping the bed sheet you quickly cover up your bare chest, cheeks burning scarlet.
"Sorry." He adds, looking you up and down one last time, and finally swings the door shut.
Well that's it, now I need to move to a different state. Fuck fuck fuck.
"Hey, honey, come hear a sec!" Your mother's voice, ringing up the stairs. Trying to get the blood to diffuse from your cheeks with sheer force of will, you hastily scramble to put your top back on.
"Coming!" You shout back. Well, you nearly had. So fucking close.
Making your way downstairs past the bathroom you see your parents arm in arm, Eddie spread out on one of the bar stools in the kitchen. Practically feeling his grin from here, you focus on your parents.
"We're going out to dinner hon. Mr Munson here, well he was going to have a look at the cable. I can't get the damn thing to work. Sure you don't mind Eddie? Ain't you got somewhere else to be?" Your father looks towards Eddie with his question.
"Nope. Completely free. I'm sure I can fix it."
"Thanks buddy, you're a lifesaver. Hon, can you look after him? Make sure to give Mr Munson anything he needs."
Cheeks flaring again with heat, you mumble out your agreement.
"Thanks sweetie!" Your mother adds, planting a peck on your cheek. Then, they leave. It's just you and Eddie.
He begins to walk towards you. The walls suddenly seem too close, your skin itchy, hairs standing on end. He stops in front of you, too close for comfort. A rough hand reaches to you and you flinch. He quickly pulls it away.
"Well, better fix the cable." He smiles at you, and turns on his heel to the TV room, leaving you staring at his retreating ass as he leaves.
Maybe he's not going to mention it?
The thought seems too good to be true. You turn to leave, back the way you came, but a strange force is pulling at your gut. Pretty soon you're standing in the door frame of the TV room, staring at Eddie's ass as he bends to look at the cable box.
Fuck, that perfect ass.
He must have changed from earlier. Maybe he'd had a shower? He certainly smelled good. Staring at his back you notice his hair looked damp.
OK, so, ignore what happened. Eddie seemed to be. Act natural. Be a good host.
"Eddie, do you want a beer?"
He doesn't bother looking back, but you hear his deep voice say, "sure thing sweetheart."
Making your way back to the kitchen, you grab a beer for him and one for yourself, to steady your nerves.
Placing it on the coffee table, you let him know it's behind him, as you swig your own.
"Could you come down here sweetheart? I need a hand."
You fall to your knees beside him.
"Show me your hands?"
Confused, you hold your palms up.
"Perfect, tiny hands. Here." And he grasps one, swallowing it up in his large palm. The skin on skin contact is a shock to your system.
He pulls your arm gently.
"There's a cable right there, can you reach that?"
Sticking your tongue out of the corner of your mouth, you extend your arm, reaching into the gap he couldn't quite hit.
"Got it."
"That's it. Good girl." You suck in a sudden breath at his words, warmth simmering in your core. Eddie doesn't seem to notice.
He's adjusting some other cable, moving the network box to a better position as you stare at the veins in his neck.
"So, did you finish?"
"Huh?" Confusion floods your face as you scrunch your eyes at his words.
"Earlier, when I walked in. Did you finish?"
Your mouth hangs open. He mentioned it so nonchalantly, not even gaining eye contact. You're so shocked that you answer him without thinking about it.
"N-no."
"Shame."
What sort of alternative reality is this?
"OK, can you feel my hand? Give me that cable."
You pass it to him wordlessly, fingers brushing his ever so slightly.
"There. Should be fine now. Try the remote."
Turning the TV on, it does indeed work. You switch it off as Eddie sits back on his heels.
"It just wasn't wired correctly. Easy mistake to make. So, you need a hand?"
"Huh?" You sound out doltishly as he swigs his beer.
"Seemed like you could do with some help earlier is all."
Swallowing hard at his words, you feel your thighs clench and your heart race.
"Eddie, what are you saying, exactly?" Words spilling out a lot calmer than you felt.
"All I'm saying is, you looked like you could use some help. I reckon I could help you out. A lot more than a cushion, anyway." He says, a slow smile spreading over his face making your knees want to melt.
You stare and stare, momentarily lost for words.
"Come on sweetheart, there's a reason why you were moaning my name. We need to get whatever this is out of our system. "
You will your legs to move, to flee. They don't. They have their own agenda it seems, taking a shaky step towards him, and another. He's still kneeling on the floor, a slight smirk pulling at his face as if he has all the time in the world.
Your knees do buckle then, under the weight of his words, as you mirror his position. There's a slight gap between you, but you're closer than you think you ever have been. The air between you seems to hum with desire, an electric current buzzing back and forth.
Reaching out with hesitant fingers, you finally close the distance, resting your hand softly on his knee.
"I'm- I'm sorry that I, erm, said your name, it's so damn embarrassing-"
"Don't be sorry," he responds, his giant hand coming to rest over yours sending your pulse into overdrive, "that was the hottest thing I've ever seen."
"Really?" You can't help the disbelief dripping all over your tone.
"You're kidding right? I've been fuckin' hard for the last hour, I'm sure it's not healthy."
You giggle into your hand at his confession and move to look down, but his hand is on your jaw then, pulling your chin up.
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, you know. We can just forget all this and I'll leave."
His stare is firm and sincere, but there's an undercurrent of need behind those eyes, one that's making the pulse between your legs hammer out a tattoo on your insides.
Before it even registers in your head, you're the one pushing toward him, drawn in by that stare. Your lips are crushing against his when you realise you had taken the leap and kissed him. Eddie's hand presses into the small of your back, pushing you bodily against him, the other snaking into your hair. Opening your mouth to deepen the kiss his tongue begins to slide against yours. Never had a kiss felt so good, so sordid. You wrap your arms around his middle to steady yourself as he explores your mouth greedily.
A slam of a car door snaps you back to reality; pushing your body off him hurriedly you look around with wild eyes.
"Hey, sweetheart, it's OK. It's not them, it's too early for that."
You stop and listen, and realise he's right.
"Sorry."
"Hey, it's OK." He smiles, flooding your tummy with warmth.
"You wanna go and get comfortable, sweets? We can, well, just this once."
You nod and stand up wordlessly, leading him to your bedroom. Your pace is slow and measured as you walk up the stairs, belying the running commentary in your head.
Oh fuck, I can't believe this is happening. This is Mr Munson for fucks sake. Dad would absolutely freak. Oh fuck.
As you're closing the door, he's kicking his shoes off and sitting up on your bed. His rough demeanour and chiselled physique look so out of place, juxtaposed by the sweet pink bedclothes.
"Come here sweetheart, right here." He says, patting his lap. You move over to him, trying to work out exactly where he wants you.
"Knees either side, come on baby, I know you know how to straddle." His smile is dipped in sin, biting his lower lip slightly and flashing his teeth. You take a shaky breath and mount him, your thin sleep shorts barely covering your expectant pussy.
"Can you, um, take your jeans off?" You ask hesitantly, "I wanna feel you."
"Whatever you want baby, I'm here to help."
You sit awkwardly to one side as he wiggles his jeans off those perfect hips, giving you a teasing sliver of his lower abdomen to gawp at before he's gripping your hips forcefully and pushing your core down against his solid bulge.
"Hmm, nearly perfect," he says, giving you an appraising look.
"What's not right?" You feel your cheeks blush, waiting for him to point out some flaws you have.
"Well, I'm sure when I walked in earlier with you in this position you were topless."
An impossible amount of blood flushes your face, chest, neck. Eddie's thumbs trace calming circles into the flesh of your hips, catching the hem of your top and slipping just beneath.
Lifting your top up hesitantly, you move your arms up and away, discarding the clothing on the floor of your room.
Eddie's eyes are fixated on your nude breasts, letting out a slow breath. He holds your hips harder, fingers bruising into you.
"There. Perfect. You are perfect sweetheart. Such a good girl for me."
It's deeply pathetic, the noise that escapes your lips at his praise, but it serves to break the spell Eddie is under and forces him to look at your rosy cheeks and pouting lips.
"Fuck, you like that sweetheart?" He asks, large hands clinging to your hips, starting to grind you back and forth. His breathing is laboured, as if he's trying to hold himself together.
"Yeah." You say back, voice small, hiding under his studious gaze.
"Don't go all shy on me now baby. This good, yeah?"
You nod, mewling at the sensation. He's rock hard, and just the feel of his solid dick rubbing back and forth, hitting your swollen clit with each pass has your head spinning. Just two layers, two layers of flimsy fabric lay between him and you. Between him entering you.
"Talk to me sweetheart. What do you need?"
His eyes are searching yours, so eager to make you happy.
"Please, please play with my nipples."
A rough hum rumbles from his throat, hands creeping up to your chest.
"So polite. Whatever you need sweetheart."
Taking over grinding over his member, you feel your skin thrumming, heat bubbling in your gut as his hands begin to trace over your curves. His thumbs graze the underside of your tits with confident movements. Expecting him to start pinching at your nipples, it takes you entirely by surprise when he leans forward and takes one in his mouth, sucking hard.
Whimpering quietly, you grip his shoulders, willing yourself to be quiet. It's like Eddie can read your fucking mind. Unlatching from your nipple, he grabs your chin firmly between his thumb and forefinger, forcing your eyes to meet his.
"I told you. Don't be shy. It's just you and me here. I want to hear you. Every whimper, every fucking moan. I'm committing this to memory, so make it a good one."
A watery grin unfurls over your face, eyes tearing up unexpectedly.
"OK Eddie."
"Good fucking girl."
"Oh God-"
Before you're done moaning at his words, his lips are immersing your nipple again, wet and warm and rough; as he pinches the other with hardened skin fingertips. A thick tongue darts out, flicking back and forth over the hardened nub.
"Oh Eddie, oh fuck!" Your moans are loud and unashamed, your hips frantically humping over his turgid cock, clit swollen, nearing on sore.
His breath diffuses over the sensitive skin of your breast.
"See that's it baby, I know, I know. Keep going, use me."
Chasing your release your movements become almost violent, hands grasping onto his wavy locks and tugging hard. He groans at that, almost a growl. Teeth scraping your aching nipple, he unlatches with a wet pop and instead bites into the joining spot between your neck and shoulder harder than anyone had done before. The act was bordering on feral. An animalistic gesture, sucking on your flesh as if he was sucking the orgasm out of you.
It was working. The low simmering in your gut had bubbled over, threatening to pull you under into the deep depths of pleasure. You let it, screaming out his name as you lost breath, quickly losing yourself in the gaping depths of your release.
Slowing your frantic rocking movements, you finally slow to a halt.
"Feel better sweetheart?"
You hum, fingers tracing over the muscles of his toned arms. Your pussy hasn't gotten the message however, clenching around nothing. Your walls are pulsing, wanting to clench onto something, anything.
"Yeah I'm good."
"Don't lie to me."
Gasping at his hard words, you look into his eyes.
"If you're done I'll leave-"
"No!" You shout, gripping him harshly,
fingernails embedding into his skin. This can't be over, not yet.
"See?" He laughs, almost mocking you, "if you need more, say so. I want to help you. What do you need?"
"I-" fuck why is this so difficult? "I need, I need something inside me."
"See? Was that so hard? You want my fingers baby? I'll make you come, as many times as you need."
You nod enthusiastically, slipping off his lap. He turns you to the side suddenly so your legs are draped over his. Firm, smooth strokes rub up, up, up your thighs making you quiver.
"Take these shorts off. I need to see that pretty pussy of yours."
Wiggling out of them, they land on the floor in a heap.
"Fuck. Spread your legs a little."
It isn't in you not to comply. Your knees fall open, entirely exposed.
"Well, look at you. Fucking perfect." A rough hand slots between your legs, two fingers rubbing the length of your pussy.
Leaning back on your hands, your back arches into his touch, hips moving upwards to meet each stroke.
"You really want this? You want me to fuck you with my fingers?" His movements are tantalising and slow. Your body begs for more, more.
Nodding at him, you soon see it's not enough.
"Use your words sweetheart." Fingers whisper across forbidden skin, circling around but never touching your clit.
"Oh God please, please I need you, please fill me up!" All modesty forgotten.
"Fuck, yeah that's it, hmm" you feel his fingers swipe your wet lips, about to go deeper. Leaning forward, he angles his head towards your cunt, and spits, hard.
Holy fucking fuck.
That act had you clenching all over again, rocking into nothing.
"Oh she likes that! Dirty girl."
He smiles his approval and gathers your combined wetness, two fingers diving deep inside you. It's aggressive and rough and entirely what you've been craving.
"This what you wanted baby? My fingers filling you up? Fucking into your cunt?"
His words are filthy, switching something inside your head you weren't aware of until just now.
"Yeah, fuck please, stretch me out, I fucking need you baby, please please please!"
Your tiny hands are gripping onto him, desperately seeking him, digging into skin and flesh.
"Oh you are so hot. Keep begging, I like it." His salacious grin pours over his features, fingers working you roughly, nestling into a spot inside that had your toes curling. Your breathing is heavy and ragged, as his other hand slaps harshly against your thigh.
"I said beg."
His ministrations start to slow.
"No, don't stop! Please, oh fuck please, I need to fucking come Eddie!" Your eyes seeking his with a desperate gleam, toying with your features.
"Yeah, that's it sweetheart, fuck," and his hand lands a hard smack against the side of your ass making you shriek.
"You're a dirty girl, aren't you?" His fingers continue, setting a brutal pace, each stroke reaching your g spot pathetically easily.
"Yeah, oh yes, for you I am."
A thick tongue runs up the side of your neck, pushing his fingers harder, deeper.
"Oh Eddie I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come, don't stop!"
"Not stopping, not even if you paid me. Come for me sweetheart."
Your hips betray you, rubbing against his fingers as hard as they can, desperately seeking your second release.
They don't have long to look. Suddenly it bursts around you, popping in your head like a firecracker of feeling, pulsing out of you in waves. Your fingers wind into his hair once again as your orgasm floods your system, hands almost frightened of being swept away.
You knew he was good with his hands but fuck, his words were something else.
"Oh my God that was incredible." You stutter out, legs still trembling.
"I aim to please. You good now baby?" His fingers whispering over your arm, catching your nerves, making quivers run over and over you.
If I'm good, he's gonna leave, and that will be it. Fuck, just don't want it to be over.
"No. I need you to fuck me. Just this once. Please. I- I need you to cum inside me."
"Shit sweetheart, you want my fuckin' cock? How could I refuse such a sweet good girl."
Laying you down against your many pillows, he stands, ridding himself of his shirt and pants.
Oh fuck, just look at his cock.
It's swollen, throbbing against his slickened pubic hair, wetted by your own juices. Licking your lips impulsively, you spread your legs wide, wanting to guide his hips between yours.
"Fuck that's a pretty dick. So fucking big."
He looks at you, quirking an eyebrow.
Oh fuck you just said that out loud.
"Yeah? You want it? You want me?"
He's smiling, stroking at his throbbing length, making an emotion akin to jealousness bloom in your chest.
"I need you Eddie."
He climbs between your thighs again, letting another glob of spit fly from those perfect lips of his.
"Oh!" You moan eagerly, writhing beneath him.
"You are perfect, aren't you? Fucking filthy and ready for me." The head of his swollen member nudges your soft opening.
"I'm on birth control, please just fill me up."
"Oh fuck you're gonna make me bust if you keep on like that." The words are admonishing, but he sounds impressed.
His weight dips onto the mattress between your legs, making it sink dramatically. You grab his relatively narrow hips, your slender fingers forcing his body between yours. You need him inside you, now.
The fat, leaking head of his cock rubs against your intumescent lips.
"Fuck me Eddie, I need you, please fuck me!" You blabber, fingers flexing hard against his hard muscles.
The mushroom head of his turgid cock pushes against your sodden opening. It breaches you then, forcing its way into your soaking lips.
Pushing harder and harder into your deepest depths, you whimper, walls quivering around his fat length.
"Eddie, oh God Eddie!" Your moans are unrestrained and throaty, him rubbing against the spot that makes you wobble inside.
"You wanna come again? So fucking greedy sweetheart." You expect those words to have bite to them, but he's grinning, forehead nearly touching yours as he hikes your legs around his middle.
You hump at him recklessly, hips thrusting against his waist as hard as you can.
"Oh my fucking God, fuck!!"
You release hard, wetness squirting over Eddie's imposing length as you moan hard and loud.
"Hey honey, we're home!"
Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.
Your eyes flick wildly to Eddie. It doesn't help that he seems amused, chuckling a silent laugh into your skin.
"I've, I've gone to bed, see you in the morning!" You cry out desperately, hoping to heaven, or hell, that they listen.
"Eddie fix the cable?" You hear your mom call out up the stairway.
"Yeah he's, he's really good with his hands!" You shout back, Eddie's body shaking with silent laughter over you, the arms caging your head trembling with barely contained amusement.
"Great news, night honey!"
You grip Eddie's shoulders as hard as you can as you listen for the minute changes in air. There it is, mother and father both going to bed.
"Fuck that was close." You huff, releasing your titanesque grip on his shoulders.
"But I'm not done sweetheart."
He thrusts hard and deep against you, his impressive member rubbing against that sweet spot yet again.
"Eddie, you can't, fuck-"
"Oh I can. You just need to shut up." He grins quietly, holding your body close to his.
"Oh Eddie, oh-"
"Shhh, fuck sweetheart, shut the fuck up." He whispers urgently into the skin of your neck. Your mouth forms a perfect 'o', wiggling against him ardently.
He releases his cum into you with a hard, shuddering thrust, throbbing and throbbing out of him. It pumps inside you, pushing you to the edge of coming yet again.
Eddie knows.
Grinning wickedly, he latches his teeth to your nipple again and sucks hard. Moments later you feel your release explode from your core, dampening your bed sheets in the process.
Thrumming against him, sweaty skin against sweaty skin, you manage to coax your breathing to a normal level.
"I hope that's everything you wanted sweetheart, 'cause it aint happening again."
Before you can protest, Eddie is leaving the warmth between your thighs and aiming for the window, so no one suspects what just happened between you two. A few sure movements and he disappears, however reluctantly, into the night. Leaving you huffing, and panting, and wanting.
@eddiemunsons-missingnipple @eddiethefreakkmunson @munson-blurbs @roanniom @eddiemunsonfuxks @eddiesprincess86 @corrodedhawkins @eddiethefreakkmunson @indouloureux @icallhimjoey
#ms gexy writes#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie x you#eddie x reader#eddie munson fluff#older!eddie#eddiemunsonsmut#eddie munson older#older eddie munson#eddie older#stranger things x reader#stranger things#stanger things#stranger things smut
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Jen Tortures Herself With Every Dreamworks Animated Movie Ever: How To Train Your Dragon
Fucking FINALLY I can gush about this goddamn MASTERPIECE of a fucking movie, and the source of my newest obsession cause oh my god, ya'll oh my god this FRANCHISE is RUINING ME and it may not be why I decided to understake this entire Dreamworks watch to begin with (for better or worse, but worth it to get to watch through this trilogy again).
We focus on Hiccup, a young viking who's out of place among the other dragon-killing vikings on Berk, especially his stern father, Stoick. During a dragon raid one night, Hiccup accidentally shoots down a Night Fury, said to be one of the most dangerous dragons of all. Slowly but surely, however, Hiccup secretly befriends this dragon, which he names Toothless, while in the midst of dragon hunting training alongside Berk's other young vikings, Astrid, Snotlout, Fishlegs, Ruffnut, and Tuffnut.
So this story is so damn good, so fucking good, its so simple, so rooted in the emotions of it all, of Hiccup being torn between wanting to live up to his father's expectations while also growing closer with Toothless and coming to sympathize with dragons in general. As a result, we get some of the strongest emotional highs and lows in really any Dreamworks movie, and it all works so well and flows so beautifully. In fact, this story doesn't even need an antagonist like its two sequels do (i mean it kind of has one in the Red Death, but its more an obstacle to be taken out above all else), it's source of conflict really is what I just described above and it's so well-crafted on every level.
Hell, everything about this movie is. The characters are all phenomenal, it's not wonder this spawned two sequels and several shows (you should watch Riders/Defenders of Berk and Race to the Edge btw, they're great). Hiccup is one of Dreamworks' best leads by far, a genuis little ball of sass who is just as loyal as he is stubborn. The other teens don't get a ton of focus here, but Astrid does, and she's great, starting out as our usual Dreamworks tough gal before eventually softening up to Hiccup heading into the third act. Also, can I just talk about Stoick for a sec? They could have done this man so dirty, could have made him the usual angry father who doesn't understand or care about his son, but he isn't. He cares so damn much about Hiccup, and it shows, even if he claims to be embarassed by him, even if he seems like he wants him to change, he still loves his son to hell and back (which makes what happens in the second movie so much more tragic, but we'll get to that). And then of course, there's Toothless, who is just... absolute Baby. I love how catlike he is, and how, much like Hiccup, he's also kind of a sassy little shit in his own special way.
The animation, golly, its so pretty, The flying scenes are this franchise's bread and butter and they are just a delight to watch. The character designs are some of Dreamworks' best, especially on the Dragons. They all look so unque and have their own little quirks that make them all special. Toothless especially is animated so well. They give him these cat-like mannerisms that bring so much charm to a character that doesn't speak a single word. It's fantastic.
You know what else is fantastic about this movie? THE MUSIC OH MY GOD. This may just be the single greatest score in ANY Dreamworks movie. It's GOD TIER GOOD. The entire franchise has amazing music, but most of the themes that repeat throughout the next two movies started here and they're all so beautiful. Seriously, give this score a listen if you haven't, its just... amazing.
The whole movie is amazing! I honest to god love everything about it so much. It's such a strong start to what I think is Dreamworks' greatest franchise, to a world and characters that I am literally obsessed with now send help, and to a series that I'm so very excited to be revisiting for this watch through. Please, if you've never seen How to Train Your Dragon, do yourself a favor and watch it now. You will not be sorry.
Overall Rating: 10/10
Verdict: (gestures vaguely at Hiccup) LOOK AT MY SON
Previous Review (Monsters Vs. Aliens)
Next Review (Shrek Forever After)
#jen watches#how to drain your dragon#jen tortures herself with every dreamworks animated movie ever#dreamworks watch#dreamworks
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Submas/PLA Fic: Electric Trains are the Future Chapter 1 - Koraidoning into Hope
Current Chapter - Next Chapter (2)
I finally am writing and posting the large fic I’ve been mentioning all month, and so Chapter 1 is posted!
This fic was inspired by a post from @fluorescent-air-fresheners with the specific post in the fic itself.
Summary: Akari attempts to summon Ingo's forgotten brother from the future, and finds that plucking people from time is much harder than anticipated. Ingo finds himself altering course with Akari's newest attempts at help, and conducting personal safety checks with the new visitor. Elesa is ecstatic to find her second favorite conductor (the other one never disappeared on her, no he didn't), but now worries on how to get home. And Emmet has lost someone once again.
Word Count (Ch. 1): 2057
Read it here or on AO3! I’ll be cross-posting the chapters, though once I get more post, binge reading will be best on AO3.
Bright lights, loud voices, and sudden sounds were par for the course for Elesa’s life. Between an electrifying rise from challenger to Gym Leader, and her glass shattering debut on the catwalk a few years after her initial Gym challenge, and her two beloved twins building their dream under Nimbasa, it was all normal to her.
On the catwalk, the spotlights came down upon her. The bright lights, the attention. As she dropped her outer coat to show off her new outfit. The loud voices, the crowd. Then the air cannons lining the catwalk, shooting confetti into the air. The sudden noises, the flair.
Wai-
The air around her crackles with lightning, swirling around her and above her. Bright lights, ethereal… Screams filled the air, some calling for her, some calling others away, some asking if it was part of the show. Loud voices, panicked… The sound of glass shattering as Elesa watched the world itself break into a void. Sudden noises.
Danger.
She was instantly pulled through.
It wasn’t a long fall, but landing on her butt was enough to drop her flat on her back, no air in her lungs for a moment. She was on sand, from what she could grasp with her hand, which meant she was going to need to wash her hair out three or four times in the shower, and this new coat, as fluffy and warm as it was, was fucking ruined. ‘ What a Magikarp of a day, ’ she thought to herself, sitting up and rubbing forehead to clear a growing headache.
「ギラティナ に 頼めば よかった...(1)」Oh, she spoke in Kantonian, so tha- Wait. Giratina? What was this person saying abou-
Holy Carp.
A teenage girl stood in front of her, dressed in a blue uniform of some kind, sweating nervously and looking like she just got caught stealing from her parents. But that wasn’t what killed her train of thought. This girl had DIALGA and PALKIA standing behind her, also looking like they were caught stealing from their parents (Arceus? Bah, she’s not a theologist). Palkia even looked away, almost sheepishly, and scratched at its chin.
“Hold up,” Elesa finally manages to sputter out. “What just happened? Where am I?” The question seemed to snap the girl in front of her to attention, with her focusing on Elesa now.
「は？ガラル？(2)」She pauses for a moment, trying to think before speaking back up. “I should have expected someone from Galar, he talks just like the professor.” She shakes her head and shakes both of her fists in front of her like a kid who is trying to cheer a friend up. Was this kid trying to cheer her up?
“Hold up, stop, please,” Elesa begs as she stands up, rubbing her temples to fight off the headache. “First, I’m from Unova,” that elicited a soft ohhh from the girl, “and secondly, who talks like the professor,” the girl raises a hand to speak before Elesa cuts her off to finish, “and third, why the Muk am I here?!”
The girl looks down at her shoes in dejection, and Elesa can’t help but feel a little bad for starting to lose her cool. “Ok, also, who are you, mystery girl who kidnaps people with the help of literal gods?” She glances back up at Dialga and Palkia, who were trying to listen in and quickly turned away from her glare. At least they had the decency to look at least a little ashamed the entire time she was looking at them.
It takes the girl only a second to perk back up, waving politely to her kidnapping victim. “Hi, my name is Akari! I was using these two,” she says, not even pausing her speech as she points up at Dialga and Palkia, who, Elesa wants to remind her, are gods, “to look for my Uncle’s brother! At least, I think it's his brother. I, uh, accidentally got you, because you might have been nearby? Sorry?”
This girl was going to be the death of her. Elesa grabs the side of her head and grips it, ruffling her own hair in the process. “And why on earth do you think someone from Unova sounds like someone from Galar? Our accents aren’t anything alike, like, c’mon! I say Tuesday, not Chewsday!”
Akari doesn’t know why she’s making this point, and neither does Elesa. “Laventon does not say Chewsday! No one says either, we don’t speak Galarian, I only learned it in school!” She throws her hands into the air and stomps around a bit, her pet legendaries backing up to give her space. “All I know is that Laventon is from Galar, and Uncle Ingo talks like him, and”
Akari honestly kept ranting for a few moments, but Elesa stopped listening. She said her Uncle Ingo. She was trying to get his brother, and got her instead. This girl was trying to steal Emmet?
Elesa steps forward and grabs Akari by the shoulders, stopping her in place. “Stop. Ingo. Wears black, frowns all the time and never smiles properly, really loud? Am I right?” Akari quietly nods, smiling. Elesa lets go to put her hands in front of her face, then turns to walk onto the grass to keep herself stable in these heels. “Me and Emmet have been looking for Ingo for 3 years, and he’s here in… Where are we, even?!”
“Oh, that’s easy! We’re in Hisui!”
“That explains nothing. What is Hisui? You were speaking Kantonian, so is it in that area? I know they tend to teach Galarian around there, too.”
That seemed to have killed Akari’s smile, and she scratches at her cheek a bit as she looks away. “It’s Sinnoh? And roughly around, I think 1870? Give or take a few years?” Elesa can feel her face pale at that. That confirms Emmet’s theory that he was sent to the past.
Who knew that the joke that the three had shared of Ingo being an old soul because of that old Sinnoh guy they read about on Bulbapedia was correct.
Akari seemed to take Elesa pausing as shock, considering she quickly went into a flurry of motion and speech. “But don’t worry! I think I can send you back, I just gotta have Dialga and Palkia open another rift, and hopefully you won’t even be gone for long, and-”
“Take me to Ingo.”
Akari froze in place, and then smiled wide and pumped her fists excitedly. “So you do know him, awesome!” She returns her Legendaries to their Pokeballs, and starts walking backwards away from the beach. “He’s actually in Jubilife right now, but, oh, wait, do you know Kantonian? We’ve been speaking Galarian, but it’s mostly just Laventon and Ingo and I think Kamado that speak it, but I can translate for you!”
Elesa starts power walking after the girl, silently cursing both the heels she was wearing, and that her Kantonian was actually pretty rusty. The twin’s mother used to keep her up on it, but they haven’t been gossiping as much recently. It takes a moment for her to turn the cogs in her head before responding to the girl in Kantonian. “I am a bit rusted, but I do know it.”
Akari’s eyes light up and her speech starts racing now that she is using her native language, causing Elesa to struggle to keep up with her words, let alone her actual pace. “Perfect! Ingo has the same accent now that I think about it, so it makes sense that the two of you are from the same area. So, what is the place he’s from like? He still doesn’t really remember anything, even after all of our battles!”
Doesn’t really remember?
“Wait, he doesn’t remember anything?” Elesa says, kicking her heels off and running up after Akari, ignoring the occasional rock digging into her feet. “My Ingy doesn’t remember me, or Emmet, or his parents? His subway ?” She brings up her hand and bites her thumb knuckle in worry. If Ingo didn’t remember his beloved trains, then he really didn’t have anything in his memory banks at all.
“I mean, he has the metaphors? But he definitely had to be explained what a train was by Laventon one time,” Akari says, slowing down so that Elesa doesn’t have to rush, “and then he started rattling off facts about the trains that Laventon was telling him about.” Hearing that did ease the fear in Elesa’s mind, though it still left her worried.
After all, hearing that your boyfriend has no recollection of you not only hurts, but makes explaining the whole polycule web much more complicated.
The pair wind through a small village full of wooden houses, which fits the timeframe that Akari told her. After all, this is less than a decade after the Log Cabin Champion in Unova, apparently. Akari was talking the entire way, but Elesa honestly was tuning her out. She seemed like a good kid, excitable and apparently impulsive, but she cares for Ingo, and that’s enough for Elesa to want to give her a chance.
The pair passed by some farmland, with several of the villagers pausing to look at and gossip about Elesa. She’s used to this, she can deal with the aftermath later, they can’t be worse than the paparazzi. As they cross the bridge, she can see him. After 3 years, he still has the coat and the cap, so it wasn't hard to see him, even if he was slouching like an emo kid in high school.
Akari calls out to Ingo, who seems to be mid-conversation with a tall woman with red hair, but Elesa has broken into a sprint, her braids and coat trailing behind her. Her target turned to greet his friend, and froze in place upon seeing her.
Before he could move or say anything, Elesa threw her arms around him, burying her face into his coat to try and hold back the tears. After a moment, she pushes back, feeling that Ingo wasn’t hugging back and not wanting to make him uncomfortable, but tears were now threatening to gush. “You don’t remember me, do you?” It doesn’t even occur to her that she asked that in Galarian.
Ingo’s frown deepens, an expression she recognizes as him trying to recall information. Behind him, she barely registers that his conversation partner looks towards someone else and signals them away. But Elesa’s attention is on Ingo as he slowly shakes his head, his eyebrows furrowed.
“No. No memories have come into station, though…” He responds in the same language, and then gently reaches up and brushes a hand against her jaw. “Your face. Your jaw, your eyes, they ring bells in my head, but there seems to have been a delay.” He pulls his hand back and lowers his cap. “I’m sorry. I want to know you, but your cab is still unknown.”
She hears Akari step up behind her, but Elesa doesn’t give her any mind as the tears break their dam and begin to pour down her face. Of course. Of course it’s not easy. As Elesa crouches down to curl up and cry, she registers that Akari is explaining that she summoned Elesa here, and that she had hoped that she could help with his memories. She was sorry it didn’t work.
Why was she sorry? She didn’t kidnap Ingo, she just kidnapped her. Oh, poor Emmet.
Ingo’s next statement pulled her back. “She is quite lovely, you’re right Miss Akari.” Elesa blinks a few times to stop the tears, and shakes her head before standing back up straight. “I wish I could remember more about her. I remember her Pokemon, but…” He remembered her Pokemon? She looks down and sees that her team were attached to the edge of her sleeves, as designed, so that could be helpful.
But before she could say anything, a very severe man walked up to the group and cleared his throat. Whoa, that moustache is impressive.
“I hear we have a new visitor?” He asks, glancing between Ingo and Akari before settling on Elesa. “Welcome to Jubilife Village. I am Commander Kamado of the Galaxy Expedition Team, and I have a few questions for you.
Translation Notes: (1) - “I should’ve asked Giratina”
(2) - “Huh? Galarian?”
Elesa did understand these sentences, she was just in shock from the teleporting to process what Akari was saying. I also threw them through Google, so it's not the closest.
#pokemon legends arceus#Pokemon fic#submas#submas fic#pokemon ingo#pokemon akari#pokemon elesa#my writing#Electric Trains fic#the trains have eaten me#this thing is shaping up to be 25 chapters at a minimum#so woooo that's gonna be fun once I'm back at work#I already have two other chapters ready to post#but I'm gonna wait a bit before I post them so I have a backlog#I hope you all enjoy!
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First of her Name
Liliam Abraxis Nightcore starts her morning with wall-to-wall speakers blasting Gustov Holst’s Mars Bringer of War, yawns and stretches like a kitten before clawing her way out of a pile of stuffies. In the bathroom she pops two nano-laced designer estradiol tablets (formulated for D-cups, bubblegum-flavored sweat and maximum iridescence) and stares herself down in the mirror as her pupils dilate and shimmer. An attendant is kneeling outside with her dress, tiara, and a velvet lined box containing her crook and flail. He says she looks positively celestial today, your grace. She tells him thank you, calls him a hugboxer under her breath, and leaves him to do whatever it is he does with the rest of his day.
Her footsteps echo endlessly down coral-gilded palace halls. Mommy and Daddy were topiarists on top of everything else, and this place has been growing unconstrained in their absence. A while back she made a habit of sending expedition teams into the newest sub-basements and outer wings. They always came back wild-eyed and ranting, which made her laugh and helped take her mind off things. She liked listening to the really broken ones the most. When she sent them deep enough they all started to sound the same, coming back with these hysterical sobbing rants about the shadows that make up the world and the blinding light from nowhere that washes them all away. She likes to imagine that they’re right. If nothing else is real then that takes some of the pressure off of her. God, she misses that – should try it again, see if anything’s changed. With the way her servants talk about the job market when they think she’s not listening, it shouldn’t be too hard to get another team together on short notice. This is what she thinks about while perched atop another oversized courtyard statue, vaping and dangling her feet off of the epaulet of the glowering dead man and watching the cotton candy sky until someone shows up to apologetically drag her to court.
There really is something wrong with me, she thinks as the Lord Commander drones on about the state of the war, its supply lines and projected casualties and lack of popular support. She’s watching his sunken face move, wondering at what point in her life she tripped and fell and broke whatever mechanism allows people to enjoy beautiful things. Nothing can simply be good without bringing her own deficiency into sharp contrast. The palace, this towering crystal throne, they make her want to vomit. Seeing gorgeous people just existing feels like twisting a knife in her guts. She has no idea what she looks like. Staring into space, drumming her fingers on a bismuth armrest, each impact activating her nail polish’s procedural palette algorithm. Violet. Platinum. Jungle. Midnight. Ivory. Sunset. She makes brief eye contact with one of her red-cloaked security detail, imagining that behind their jade locust mask and relentlessly disciplined body language is someone just as bored out of their skull as she is. The old fuck’s trying to get her attention again, gesticulating in that overly-grandiose way that makes her shiver with revulsion. She imagines how much better he would look flayed and hanging by his ankles from the palace gates -- she could do it if she really wanted to, but then she’d just have to replace him with someone equally insufferable. Mercy it is, then.
She nods along and approves this initiative the Lord Commander is proposing, something about appropriating the biomass of enemy combatants. Sure man yeah sure okay sure whatever. He looks satisfied, gathers up his notes and bows deeply. Your grace. All she can think about is how much this man disgusts her, and now her brain is spinning up this whole narrative. What if he seizes power in a military coup? Pays off all her guards one night and waltzes into her chambers? She’d wake up with moments to live, fluid running down her face from where he’s buried a knife deep in what used to be her eye socket. A death deliciously unbefitting of royalty. He’s leaving now, and the next pathetic sycophant is taking his place. This one’s inviting Liliam to an exclusive cocktail party at her fortress-colosseum, but her grace is too checked out to even get excited at the hinted possibility of gladiatorial pits. It’s not worth enduring an airship full of plastic people kissing her ass and calling her gorgeous. The lady leaves, dejected, probably already planning some other angle from which to wriggle her way into the princess regent’s good graces. And so on, and so on, and so on. Everyone wants something and everyone thinks the thing they want is the most important thing in the world. All of them are scared and most of them aren’t even scared of her. Pearl. Mango. Teal. Gunmetal. Gore.
By the time the sun dips low enough to paint the throne room in hallucinatory pink-yellow-purple through its westward stained glass atrocity, Liliam has made up her mind to go clubbing tonight. She’s craving the release, and besides, what kind of ruler would she be if she didn’t mingle with the common folk now and again? So once the doors have been triple-locked and every would-be social climber has shuffled off back to their respective limos and carriages and luxury airships, she wastes no time slipping out of her glamourweave and into plain fabric and studded leather. Analog cosmetics are considered laughably anachronistic at her social stratum, but by the grace of heaven her improvised wings and eyeshadow turn out okay. Dagger at her hip, like always. 18 milligrams of experimental combat stimulants under the tongue and she’s ready to go.
Liliam has a standing order on one of her intelligence agencies to surveil every drinking den in the city and compile a list ranked by frequency of violent incidents. Her M.O. is to bounce back and forth between a few of the top contenders over the course of a night, thus maximizing her chances of getting some action. Tonight, though, her blood is already boiling. There’s tension in her chest and reverb in her skull. She needs this too bad to leave it up to chance.
She leans back and lets the chemicals inside her hold her aloft, sweeping her along on a tide of alcohol and anticipation and false starts to 2:00 AM, depositing her on this smoke-filled mezzanine where nothing matters but the present tense and she’s weaving through an avalanche of bodies towards the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen. If the music were about twenty decibels lower you could have heard her gasp at the sight of this girl: a study in leather and mesh and steel, face smeared into something resembling divinity under the kind of multifractal strobe lighting you can only get by running a live current through a caged plasma-nymph who had plans for how the rest of her life was supposed to go. Close now, almost close enough to touch, Liliam sees gunmetal glint between layers of dark fabric accentuating the stranger’s thighs. Reticle-pupils tighten with focus as she turns to look at her. Implants like that in this part of town, she’s probably a combat veteran. A gleaming razor blade just waiting for something to slice apart.
In a few hours she won’t remember which one of them dropped the opener, which one made the other laugh first, who offered to buy the next round. Sense-memories dominate. As they talk, the noise of the club forces them close enough to feel each other’s breath. Liliam’s heartbeat outpaces the relentless double-bass of the pre-war industrial metal pouring over the speakers. Need burns white-hot through the core of her being, but the particulars of that need keep changing with the strobe light. She needs to strip for this mystery woman or needs to gouge her eyes out or run home and change into a hoodie or get taken back to her apartment like a hunting trophy and tied to her bedframe. She needs her ribs cracked open or her dick sucked, she needs to fall asleep tonight in this stranger’s arms, or with her arterial blood drying on her face.
And she’s watching those vantablack lips, struggling to make out every third word, but the contents of the conversation are just pretense, right? This is two strangers establishing first humanity, then cordiality, then desire, until one of them asks the other if they’d like to step out back for a breath of fresh air.
Now there is cold stillness crisp on her tongue and in her sinuses, bags of trash in haphazard piles, decaying brickwork crusted over with graffiti: Redcloaks killed husband, love you too Tessa, fuck the crown fuck the war fuck Liliam. Another couple is out here too, going at it like there’s a way out down each other’s throats. Liliam fills her lungs and howls at the sky, hoping it carries past all the holographic pastel infojunk to the stars beyond. Her razorgirl glances back at her, eyes dancing.
“So, sweetie, what are you waiting for?” Perfect pitch, perfect resonance, perfect delivery from a perfect face. It wasn’t just the lighting. Secrets of the universe written in the sacred geometry of her cheekbones.
A split second non-decision later and Liliam’s dagger is in her hand. She plunges forward, letting stimulant-buzz and artificial muscle memory take over. There is motion, then impact, and then tearing fabric accompanied by the spine-twisting screech of sharp metal glancing off military-grade porcelain.
Then, after an interminable microsecond, the telltale ping of a spring-loaded blade being reflexively deployed from somewhere inside the other woman’s body.
Liliam thinks, okay, so I guess I’m the one who doesn’t get to go home tonight. Better this girl does me in than anyone else. An honor, really. Her only regret is that she won’t be around to laugh at the ensuing succession crisis. She braces for a retaliatory strike, but instead of slitting her open like she ought to Razorgirl just takes a few steps backward, one hand over her mouth. Her other arm is at her side, thirteen inches of wickedly curved sigil-etched hellsteel hanging limply from the elbow.
“Okay okay okay okay okay-” Razorgirl is muttering to herself like a sample on loop, face carved into a mask of shock. Liliam risks an embarrassed glance down the alley. The only other sound is the low thrum of a royal warship passing far overhead. The other couple hasn’t even come up for air.
“Go on,” Liliam offers, gesturing to the blade,“Show me what that thing can do.” No response but more of that vocal white noise. “What’s the matter? I just tried to kill you, don’t you want some payback?”
The other woman shakes her head no.
“Are you serious?” she says, impatience creeping into her tone, “I know you have enough hardware in there to splatter me across that wall. Just fucking do it.”
“I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to hurt you.” Razorgirl’s eventual reply is small, unsteady. Infuriating.
“Fine. Whatever, you fucking tease. Maybe don’t flag like that if you’re just gonna pussy out.” Liliam slides down into an intersection of brick wall and dumpster, suddenly acutely aware of how much the world is spinning and how much her head feels like it’s being crushed in a drill vise. Through the haze, she sees the other woman’s posture change as she carefully folds her blade back into her arm. She looks down at her with, oh god, is that pity? Lilium feels bile rising in the back of her throat.
“Sweetie, are you… okay? Can I-”
“Go. Just go. Get the fuck out of my sight.”
Neon paints double-images in puddles of filth as she sits alone, a heavy fog of rejection settling over her shoulders like a weighted blanket soaked in piss. It hasn’t fully hit her yet, but she knows that once she gets into that four poster bed and pulls the curtains closed she’ll crumble. Trills of laughter drift over to her. Joyful. Mocking. Right, of course, those star-crossed lovers from earlier. She fumbles in the half-light for a moment before her fingers find sweat-slick ivory. She takes her dagger, holding the slender blade tight against her chest. Then she staggers to her feet, face breaking into something that could be mistaken for a grin. Maybe she will end up having some fun tonight.
Halfway back to the palace and there she is, cresting the skyline: Liliam Abraxis Nightcore, first of her name, rendered four hundred feet tall in solid light. The skyscraper princess smiles like an angel, like your mother or your daughter, flashing a photoshop-perfect set of teeth. On one arm she bears a golden aspis, ready and willing to protect the innocent citizens of the realm. In the other she holds a blazing torch, lighting the way to a better future. In lieu of a halo, her head is crowned by a smattering of ten thousand point sans serif text which reads: SHE WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR YOU. WHAT WOULD YOU DO FOR HER? followed by a toll-free number that redirects to the nearest recruiting station. Back at street level, flesh-and-blood Liliam doubles over. She tries steadying herself with her hands on her knees, smearing blood all over her pants and soaking them through. Her stomach contracts, but only alcohol comes up.
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#ohhhhh f u c k me#i found a bunch of the little sketches i made of them and. g o d. FUCK. theres one in here from freshman year when i just thought they#were the nicest coolest person id ever met bc they were they were they are and. fcuk. fuck.#theres doodles of them from rehearsal when we very first started going out and theres doodles of them from rehearsal more recently and#theres art inhhere from when i missed them ofer the summer and. and the old ones have their long hair and the newer ones show after they cut#it and the newest ones showed how its started to grow back and. god. FUCK. holy fucking h e l l. god this fucking h u r t s#all this after the fucking nightmare i had earlier too goddamnit goddamnit godDAMNit#h e l l. i cant. everything is. its all about them even when i dont mean it to be even when it doesnt start that way and i. dont know what#the fuck to DO bc this is all so. this is all so fucking much and i miss them so fucking badly and its been 43 days since ive seen or talked#to them at ALL and i cant STAND this i feel liek im losing myfucking mIND and i dont know what the fuck i could possibly ever say i dont#even know what i want besides them and thats ridiculous and stupid and i shouldnt i should know bettwr and i should be over this by now but#everything makes me think of them everythingeverythingeverything and even though ive been Actively Fucking Trying to figure out how tf to#move tf ON bc i know i SHOULD bc. bc everyone thinks i should and i trust theur judgement on this a helluva lot more than mine bc mine was#what got me INTO this mess in ghe FIRST fucking place but. i still fucking love them!! and i still fucking WANT to love them!!! and i still#FUCKING WANT to be with them godDAMNIt idk wtf to DO. every option os bad nd i cant see a way out of this without hurtibg literally Everyone#Involved and i cant STAND i dont WANT to hurt anyone but if i choose yes i hurt the other and if icchoose no then that hurts them and ikikik#im not responsible for wither of those things but. gdi. gdi. gdi i want to hold them again i feel so fucking lost and fluttery and they were#always such an anchor and i cant i cant i cant i CANT bc inSHOULDNT bc ig itll just hurts us both no matter what?? its all fucking lose-lose#its all fucking lose-lose and their hearts are in the fucking balance and i cant help both and i cant help either and ik that its not my#fault or responsibility but oh god ohgodohgodoh g o d i dont want to hurt anyone adn i dont know how to be good or healthy and im trying so#FUCKING hard but it doesnt seem like ots working at ALL bc for all im strainjng to do good and do healthy im still not and i can see it#happening but i cant seem to change iteven for my sake even though ik thats all i wanted for them was for them to do better for their own gd#sake!! i cant hopefor that from them if *i* cant do it. righr?? and i just feel like everythinf is spinning and im lost and. g o d. h e l l#they made it all seemso easy and clear and they were so supportive when i had no bones of my own to speakof and now i nkow that was probably#HURTING them and i cANT let that HAPPEN ANYMORE but im so confused and conflicted and they were always readyto try andease that away and i#GOD. it fuckinf HURTS. the nightmaee was just them angry and hurtinf and hating me + thekself and i woke up fucing sobbing bc i didnt have#anyanswers but dream-them said i was right:i WASNt worth gettig bettwr for but i was also WRONGbc they didnt think THEY were worth it either#and i couldbt help them in the dream i just woke up in tears and i cant help them irl bc i cant make myself nothing to them and i dont WANT#to even tho ik its SELFISH. but i cant even help my gd self!! and i havent even shown them all this fucking art. only one of the sketches#over txt ovr the summer+they said they loved it+it almost made them cry+i cant show anyone these now i cant but. i still have them. god. GOD
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Hiii! Been delving into Steter now, in the year of our lord 2021, even though I never really did when I was active in the fandom years ago and I was wondering if you'd have some longfic recs for the ship? Like, fics that are Classics(TM)? But happy endings! And I'm not super into those in which Stiles is still underage 😬 do u have any recs? Thanks!
Welcome to the Steter fandom! I definitely have some long fics to rec, some of them are super old lol, and I'll stick to ones around 20k or over, and most of them are finished. And hmm, considering the ship, and a lot of fics like to start off in season 1 where Stiles is still technically a teenager, I'll try to limit these to ones with Stiles being at least 16/17 before anything starts happening, and only 18+ if there's explicit content. I hope that's okay.
drowning in the sea of you by Corpium
Beacon Hills was perfect for Stiles growing up, but now, with werewolves, hunters, and an anxious best friend running around, it's turning into a place too chaotic for an empath like Stiles to handle alone. And pain killers can only go so far.
Wake Me Up by ToAStranger
Stiles has been in a coma for six years. Now he's awake.
Tremors by Corpium
(Stiles has a taste for him now. All Peter needs to do is wait.)
Surviving Peter and the Zombie Apocalypse by Nopennamesleft
Its the end of the world and Stiles has run out of luck. He saves a werewolf from certain death. Will they begin to rely on each other to survive or will the wolf just eat Stiles for a midnight snack?
Bite Down by EclipseWing
In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.
as you are by veterization
Stiles runs straight into a tree and suddenly, things are... different. Namely, he's in a world where Peter Hale is his boyfriend.
Call My Name by KouriArashi
After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.
Devil of Mercy by KouriArashi
Peter's heard people talk about what it felt like when they saw their mate for the first time, from those who actually believe in the mystical bullshit. Like a magnet, like gravity. Peter just feels... sharply curious.
Whiskey is My Kind of Lullaby by taylorpotato
Peter is a simple saloon owner on one of the outer planets between the Aaru Belt and the Olympus Galaxy. He’s done with trouble. Done with adventure. So fucking done with rustlers. That is, until a cute young outlaw named Stiles wanders into his bar. Peter has this problem where he can’t seem to resist charming narcissists (perhaps because they remind him of himself). And when said narcissists turn his life upside-down, the worst part is he’s not even that upset about it.
Proposing To Strangers by moonstalker24
At the end of a strained relationship, crime novelist Stiles chooses to hide from the world inside a bar with far too many motorcycles outside it for comfort. Here he'll meet the man of his dreams, eat food and propose marriage, all within the first five minutes.
Peter doesn't know who this kid is, but he's cute and looks like he could use a break. So he feeds him. He's not expecting a marriage proposal, but with what comes after, he doesn't really mind.
Stiles Stilinski, Disaster Chef by Guede
The zombie apocalypse forces Stiles to learn how to cook.
The Will by Guede
We are gathered here today for the reading of Gerard Argent’s will.
On the Importance of Lunar Influences in Gardening by Guede
“Oh, it’s you again,” Stiles sighs. He puts down his basket and drops the bunch of onions into it, and then dusts off his hands. “Can’t you get your own strawberries? I mean, I have it on good authority that wild strawberries? They’re a thing. They exist. They’re out there.”
“But Stiles,” says the werewolf dangling by one foot from the tree, sticky red smears around his mouth and all over his fingers. “Your berries are so juicy, so ripe. Those ones in the woods are mere passing indulgences compared to the royal feast you have in your garden.”
Genii loci Stiles and his father run a community garden, and it’s all good, except for the werewolf who keeps sneaking over the fence to raid Stiles’ strawberry patch (and the hunter who’s constantly hanging around his father).
Runes and all kinds of things by FeelingsDusk (WIP)
Enough is enough. Stiles is tired of being always a last choice when he always tries to do his best for his precious people, so they better get their act together or face being left behind.
OR
The things in the Argent's basement get nearly fatal, the Sheriff finds about the supernatural, Allison can have a wicked, wicked mind and Peter Hale appears to be everywhere.
Oh, and Stiles can't seem to stop breaking the laws of physics with his magic.
Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter
The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.
It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.
Out Of The East, Never See The Sun Rise by neglectedtuesday
In the beginning, there are three absolutes.
One. Stiles is a god, forged of starlight and collapsing galaxies and he is eternal.
Two. Peter is human, fragile bone and viscous blood and he is temporary.
Three. Stiles and Peter are in love; love that claws its way inside one’s heart like fish hooks; all encompassing love that is beautiful but dangerous.
Stiles is a god. Peter is human. They love each other.
Three absolutes.
You Had Me at Canapes by LadyArinn
Stiles doesn't mean to sneak into the Hale wedding, and he certainly doesn't mean to have cliche coat-room sex with the bride's uncle, but what had happened, happened, and it wasn't like he could just leave. At least, not until he got to have some of that cake.
Infinite Space by DiscontentedWinter
Stiles needs Peter's expertise to help stop the latest threat to Beacon Hills.
And, as the pack falls apart around him, he might even need Peter for more than that.
Hook, Yarn, Sinker by pprfaith
Stiles is happy with his store, his hobbies, his friends. Peter's just trying to figure out how to raise his nieces and nephew without fucking them up too badly.
Paths cross.
Open Wounds by Guede
Talia got out of the fire with Peter, but everyone else died. Years later, they’re still struggling with injuries, but they’ve at least settled in with oddball werewolf Stiles. And then other werewolves start showing up. Familiar ones.
Bittersweet Creek by Guede
When Stiles finally steps off the westward trail to California, he’s the last of his pack. He starts building a den, but then he finds a dying man next to a burnt-down house and it turns out he’s not really much of a settler, after all.
For Great Justice! by Green
Stiles is a vengeance demon, drawn to Peter just as he's waking from his catatonia.
"Whoever did this? We will make those fuckers suffer. I promise you."
Bone Deep by ShippersList
A body in the woods, a mate, and a long-awaited revenge.
Peter had no idea how his life would change when he followed the strange pull in his chest.
Love What is Behind You by KouriArashi
Basically what it says on the label. Hunger Games type fusion. Stiles doing way better than anyone anticipates. Peter finds him intriguing. Ruthless, devious assholes working together to ruin bad guys, as the Steter ship is meant to be.
Soothing the Burn by Therapeutic_Steter (WIP)
Peter is burnt out and breaking down. Stiles notices and offers him solace, along with the one thing he wants most: Pack.
Til Death by Bunnywest
“How long do we have to find him someone?” Stiles asks.
“Two weeks,” says Derek, eyebrows pulling down even further. The fierceness of his expression tells Stiles just how concerned he is.
“He marries, or he goes to the camps. And you know what your father told us,” Scott reminds her.
The camps……aren’t camps.
Peter either finds a wife, or he dies.
Ink Blossoms by Triangulum
"So, you're going to ruin your niece's baby shower with flowers in the wrong color?" the florist, Stiles, asks when they reach the counter. He pulls out a binder and starts flipping through it.
"Not ruin. Mildly inconvenience," Peter says.
"Right, messing with a hormonal pregnant woman seems like a great plan."
"To be fair, her fiance and the father of her baby is my ex-boyfriend," Peter says. "And we weren't broken up when they started 'dating'."
Stiles looks up at him in surprise. "And you're still getting her flowers?" he asks.
"It's under duress, I assure you," Peter says. He absolutely wouldn't be here if his alpha hadn't ordered it.
"Well, shit, yeah, let's get you some purple revenge flowers," Stiles says.
After You by FlyAwayMeow (rjaejoo)
It’s true that sometimes what you want the most, you can’t have and that you’ll miss what you once had all along when it’s finally gone.
After breaking his engagement to Chris, Peter heads to New York to start over. He meets Stiles, a young author at his publishing house who helps him piece his confidence back together. When tragedy strikes, he discovers how to finally let go of his past and have the family and future he's always wanted with the pieces already in his life.
love me lights out by veterization
Stiles and Peter get snowed in together. (Or: what happens when you accept phone calls from people you haven't spoken to in over five years.)
Uncle Peter Doesn't Date by Mellow (SweetCandy) (WIP)
“Oh don’t lie, you love it.” Peter purred and winked at his newest arm candy, who spluttered for a few seconds, before blushing like a 16 year old virgin. Considering how young he looked Laura wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually 16.
“Shut up Peter!” Bambi squeaked, still flushing and averting Laura’s eyes. “Well, anyways, I’m,”
‘Bambi’.
“Stiles. Stiles Stilinski, pleasure to meet you- again.” Stiles smiled sheepishly, obviously nervous.
Stiles Stilinski. Definitely a stripper then.
-
Or: Laura was prepared for whatever piece of armcandy her uncle had decided to show up with, what she hadn't been prepared for was Stiles Stilinski...her uncle's boyfriend.
Under the Songbird’s Wing by mia6363
Captivity easily destroys the will of escape. It can break the fiercest of animal. It can strip the most regal man and woman down to nothing but animal needs.
Captivity can, if met with unwavering determination, shape a person into something unimaginable.
Stiles is sixteen when he's captured. Stiles's first thought is, "I won't die here."
Baby Whisperer by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)
“What. Is that.”
Scott looked up at him, apprehensive.
“Her name’s Lily.”
Stiles stared at the fuzzy head peeking out of the papoose.
“Her. Her name. That is a real live human baby. Oh my God-”
“Actually I don’t know if she’s human?” Scott said with a confused frown. “Becca didn’t say.”
“Who the fuck is Becca?!”
Sacrificial Lamb by Bunnywest
The Alpha has a scruffy beard, unkempt hair and dazzling blue eyes. The scar on his face is raised, running down his cheek like a twisting, gnarled rope. Stiles knows that it came from the blade of Kate Argent herself, and that the Alpha got it fighting in the battle where Kate killed his lover, cutting his head clean from his neck, if the stories are to be believed.
The Alpha lets Stiles look his fill, before indicating that Stiles should take the other couch, and Stiles does so, his father’s words echoing in his ears. He can do this, can be pleasant and amenable. The lives of his people may depend on it. The Alpha spends long moments surveying him, before saying, “I like you, Stiles.”
You don’t know me, Stiles wants to blurt out, but he bites his tongue.
The Various Triumphs of Mischief Bilinski by Whispering_Sumire (WIP)
"Hello, Chris," sings a honeyed voice from behind.
Chris' attention snaps toward the intruder, his gun already out of its' holster and aimed at whoever it is — a boy, apparently, with braided russet hair, a red jacket, and wise eyes. He's wearing a gas mask, but Chris can tell by the way his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way sun-burnt sand swirls in his irises, that he's smiling.
Chris cocks his gun.
"You killed my father," he says.
"No offence, but he totally deserved it," the stranger agrees with cheerful solemnity.
"What the hell are you doing in my home?" Chris demands. The kid is perched on a windowsill in Chris' office, as nonchalantly as if this were something he did every day, as if they were familiar.
"I was just wondering," the kid speaks softly, fond amusement sewn through with a peculiar resignation, "how you'd feel about putting down some nazis?"
[Or: The one where Stiles goes back in time and subsequently fucks with everything.]
A Curious Magic by Triangulum
Overall, Stiles is very well-known in the supernatural community. It’d be hard not to be, not with how his reputation has grown like wildfire. He knows and is on good terms with nearly all the fae that reside in the preserve, the asrai that live deep in the lake, the Ito pack, the vampire couple that lives over in Beacon Valley (they buy an ethically-sourced food supply from Stiles), as well as almost every other supernatural entity in the area. But Talia Hale doesn’t like him, and a werewolf pack tends to do what their alpha tells them to.
So it’s a definite surprise when the wards at the edge of his property trip, the tingling down his spine telling him it’s a werewolf, the lack of burning sensation letting him know there’s no hostile intent. Stiles, in his office in the second floor turret, sets down the amulet he’s packing up for Marin and moves to the large window overlooking the front of his property. He’s expecting to see an Ito packmember, even though they nearly always call in advance, and is surprised to see a man that he recognizes as Talia’s brother, Peter.
Light in the Dark by cywscross
It still surprises Stiles sometimes, how easily he’s adapted. Seven months in a world filled with train tracks and soul-sucking fae, and it feels like he’s never known anything else.
~~
Or, the one where diverting the Ghost Riders from Beacon Hills to prey on a different town only succeeded in setting them free.
Vengeance Looks Good On You, Sweetheart by cywscross
Just because Scott refuses to see the Argents for what they truly are - prejudiced serial killers sitting proudly on a mountain of innocent corpses - doesn't mean Stiles will. It's about time someone did something about the Argent Empire anyway, and what a coincidence - summer vacation is just around the corner.
--
Or, the one where Gerard Argent kidnapped the wrong fucking person to torture. Stiles has never subscribed to the policy of forgiving and forgetting anyway, not when razing the problem to the ground and salting the earth for good measure has always been a far better solution in the long run.
He doesn't expect to have company.
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Say it, just say it - Harry Styles smut
The one where you and Harry hate each other.
Warnings: hate sex, use of the words bitch and whore.
Word count: 3k<
A/N: this is for an anon request that wanted hate sex with Harry Styles. This was the best I could do - apparently the idea of having sex with someone you hate isn’t something my brain can process, so here’s some really rough sex that forces two idiots to deal with their feelings. Also this somehow goes from second person to third person p.o.v. but when I tried to fix it, I didn’t like it. So 🤷♀️
Harry hated her.
There was no easy way to say it, no cliche that could hide the absolute honest, factual emotion that he felt towards the woman with whom he was supposed to work for the next four months.
It had been this way for as long as he could remember. The first time you were introduced to each other, during one of those extremely boring parties the record company insisted on throwing, he’d been praying for a distraction, any type of distraction, and when you appeared, looking just as bored and so much like an angel it hurt to look at you for too long, he thought that was it.
Maybe you were it. Maybe you were the person who would finally make this entire thing make sense, remind him why he even became famous in the first place. Harry had been growing more and more disappointed about his environment with each passing day and he needed something to make him stay, to remind him why he got into this industry in the first place.
Your face, your gentle way of being, the way you had so suddenly risen to fame and not allowed yourself to get pushed into the wrong kinds of behavior were some of the reasons why he had grown fascinated with you. Now that he had the chance to finally meet his newest idol, maybe you’d be the one to give him a reason to keep going.
He couldn’t have been more wrong. For starters, you barely gave him the time of day, smiling politely after being introduced but remaining mostly silent even though he kept trying to make conversation with you. You looked uncomfortable, and it made him uncomfortable. And when you finally snapped and told him to, “Stop trying, it’s never going to happen,” and immediately left, he decided right then and there - he hated you.
He hated you. He hated the way you made him feel, back then and every time you met since - like he’d done something fundamentally wrong just by being the way he was. He hated that he believed even for a split second that you could help him, that you could take him away from this path of nonsense he’d started walking, only to be left lost and alone. He hated how sweet your perfume was, like an intoxicating cloud trying to make sure he’d never be able to forget you. And most of all, he hated that no matter how hard he tried, he still grew hard as a rock just at the sight of you.
It all became that much harder to deal with when your record label decided you’d be having a joint tour for the next year. Of course, you tried to fight it - Harry wouldn’t be too surprised if he learned you screamed and threw a fit, although he never ever heard of you behaving in such a way… He just had to believe that you did. It was pointless, anyway. The decision had been made with your fans’ best interest - and your managers deep pockets - in mind. And if there was one thing he had to admit, it was that you truly were a professional, even when it came to doing things you didn’t want to do.
That didn’t mean he didn’t feel the urge to tighten his hand around your throat every time you opened your fucking mouth to shoot one of your derogatory comments at him.
“Oh, you’re not going out to party?” You asked, barely glancing up at him from your spot on the couch when he entered the tour bus in search of his phone. Truth was, his plan most definitely had been to go out and get drunk, mostly to try to get some sleep that wasn’t filled with dreams of a very naked you riding him until he was whimpering, but now that you said that, he wanted to go directly to bed if only to prove you wrong.
“What the fuck is your problem, huh?” He asked, reaching out for a bottle of vodka and quickly deciding to forgo glasses and drink directly from it. “Are you so sexually frustrated up on that high horse of yours you can’t let other people get their rocks off in peace?”
That won your attention, your gaze slipping from the television to meet his in clear annoyance. God, why do you still look so fucking cute when you have your eyes narrowed like that? “Excuse me?”
Harry could have dropped it. He very well could. Roll his eyes and make a hasty escape, either to the bar or to bed, like he’d done thousand of times before. But he was tired, and he was moody, and frankly, he was a little sexually frustrated. It didn’t matter how many girls he found to occupy himself with after a show, the second he saw you again when he got back to the bus, his cock was back to a half-mast.
“You heard me.” He decided to throw caution to the wind. At the very least, he’d get to say some things that had been swirling around his head ever since you met, and maybe that would help ease some of the tension inside of him. “You’re such a fucking prude you can’t even go out to grab a drink with your bandmates. Or maybe you don’t go because you know no one would want you. That know-it-all attitude isn’t exactly attractive, but I think you know that already.”
When you darted out of the sofa, he already knew what was going to happen. But instead of doing anything to stop it, he found himself incredibly aroused at being slapped on the face by the woman before him.
“Oh, no, you won’t.” He captured your wrist before you could walk away from him, pulling you so forcefully back to where you stood that you ended up falling over his chest. And then, after a second of tense silence where you both just stood there, staring at each other, Harry finally found the courage - or the stupidity - to do what he’d been wanting for so long.
He leaned down and connected his lips to yours.
He didn’t know what to expect - frankly, it’s not like he was thinking straight. Even though he hadn’t really drank enough to be even near buzzed, you just had that effect on him - acting like an intensifier, making every color seem brighter and every sound louder, igniting his emotions so easily there really was no point in drinking anything whenever you were around.
But still, everything was possible, from him earning another slap - one he wouldn’t feel inclined to complain about, knowing he crossed a lot of boundaries by pulling you this close and possessing you lips like he’d had - to having you run away and never speak to him again. He was prepared for every outcome, except the one where you reciprocated his kiss with just as much hunger as he felt towards your body.
It was all teeth and tongue, he swiped his over the top of your mouth, you bit down on his bottom lip, making him whine and inadvertently rub his hardened cock on your stomach. But you didn’t seem to mind. In fact, you only pressed your own body tighter against his, trapping him against the counter while he got lost in your taste and then…
Then you suddenly stepped away, breathing hard while looking at him with an accusatory expression, like this was all his fault, like he’d done something against your will. “Let me go, Harry,” you ordered, pulling the arm that he still clutched, while he stared back at you with a dumbfounded look on his face. “I’m not one of your common whores, I’m not gonna just sit back and be a good girl for you.”
His entire body still tingled from being that close to her, his mind taking too long to catch up to yet another turn of events. He just stared down at her smaller frame, still confused and surprised until yet again, it all turned into anger.
“Not one of my common whores, huh?” Harry could see just how lustful she actually was. He could see it in the way her eyes glinted, how she still hadn’t been able to breathe with her mouth closed since he lost the feeling of her against his lips, and how despite her forceful words, she still hadn’t made an actual effort to step away from him.
She could pull away if she wanted to. He didn’t have enough control of his body to hold her that tight. And to make it even clearer, he just released her arm, fingers running down her body until her hands were falling limp by her side, surprise clear on her face.
She didn’t want to be anywhere else.
And when that was out in the open, he leaped on her, cradling her face between his hands - so big that they could encompass her entire head - and descended upon her again, mouths connecting and a delicious whimper escaping into the tense atmosphere between them, making her so surprised at herself it gave him just enough of the upper-hand that he managed to invert their positions and have *her pressed against the counter now.
He kissed her like he wanted to leave bruises on her lips, etch this memory in her mind just like he knew he’d never be able to forget about it. He’d be damned if he didn’t show her the best lay of her life. Maybe then she wouldn’t go back to being such a fucking bitch to him.
“Look at this, you say you’re not a whore, but where’s your underwear?” Her breath hitched when Harry’s hand made its way between her legs, finding her not only bare, but wet and ready for him. “My girlfriends all wore panties, like proper ladies do, pet. Where’s yours?”
The poor thing didn’t seem to be able to speak, mostly because she had to bite her lip so she wouldn’t say something that would stop him from toying with her clit, making her pussy clench in the most delicious of ways.
“God, you’re such a fucking temptation.” The way his warm breath hit her face, before he kissed her cheek while he kept playing with her, only added to the warmth she felt exponentially grow inside her body. “You turned me on all this entire time… If I’d known you just walked around without underwear, I would have bent you over a desk and had my way with you long ago.”
At last abandoning her clit, Harry pushed two of his long fingers inside of her, immediately replicating the pace with which he’d rubbed her pussy, no sign of slow and sweet anywhere in his mind.
“But you just have to walk around being a distraction… You know, the least you could do was to play nice. Or do you just like being a bitch all the fucking time?” He nipped on her jaw as she held onto the counter behind her, eyes raised to the ceiling, begging for God to grant her a release. Unfortunately, the only one who could give her that was Harry, and he was not feeling merciful.
“At least your pussy is sweet,” he mocked when he pulled his fingers away from her pussy, right when she was about to reach her high, and wrapped his pretty pink lips around them. “Something about you had to be.”
But she was too breathless, too lost to the desire to care about his taunts. All she could do was watch with bated breath as Harry hummed with the taste of her, eyes fluttering open to meet hers before he smirked.
“Come.” He took her to the couch, not stripping her of her clothes, but fully ripping them from her trembling body. He bent her over the soft cushions, standing back only for enough time to unbuckle his belt and push his jeans down, but it was enough for her to find her voice again.
“Someone can come in…” She pointed out, looking behind her to find him staring at the apex of her thighs, completely ignoring her eyes. He looked almost hypnotized by what he saw. She could only flush in embarrassment as she imagined. She *knew how wet she was, she could feel it. It dripped from her, slowly running down her thighs and making her feel weaker than she already was.
“I don’t care.” Harry’s voice broke her from her thoughts, seeing him still attentively looking at her offering. “Let them watch, if they want. Let them see how good you take it.” And that was all the warning she got before he pushed himself inside of you, stretching her like no one else had ever done before.
He didn’t give her any time to adjust, either. Immediately settling on a bruising pace, he fucked her hard, like he had decided to eliminate every single ounce of frustration he’d ever had with her right then, with the help of her body.
“Get your hands off your cunt.” He slapped her hand away, the one she’d been using to rub her little clit in the urge to reach that high again, too scared he’d take it from her once more. “It’s mine now.”
And so his thumb settled right where she’d been, swiping her nub with surprising dexterity for someone who was keeping such a steady and forceful pace as he bruised her cervix. His sneer was the only thing that warned her of the persistence of his temper.
“Don’t like following orders unless it’s for me to touch your sweet pussy, huh?” She was too immersed in the pleasure, the sounds of their rough sex making her head swirl inside the empty bus. She’d never been fucked this hard in her life, and it sated some deep desire she’d never even acknowledged she had until that very moment.
“I fucking knew you weren’t some precious little innocent thing,” Harry continued, still keeping up his pace. “You’re a slut, you like being fucked like a whore, isn’t that so?” He pulled her so her back would be attached to his front, and she gasped with the change of position.
“Answer me.” All she could do was nod, but that was enough for her torturer, who suddenly seemed much too interested in her jaw, on the skin of her neck, whatever part he could reach with his soft, pillowy lips.
“Admit it,” he whispered, so differently from how he’d been speaking up until then that she almost missed it. “Admit that you’ve wanted this just as much as I did.” The implications of what he meant had her tightening around him, and his groan was as delicious to hear as the first notes of his solos.
But she couldn’t. She couldn’t open her mouth to say it, because it was just too much. It would make this moment more real, more burdensome than she could bear. This was supposed to be only sex. She couldn’t deal with any emotions.
“N-no,” she tried to assert, but it sounded weak and unconvincing even to her own ears. And the whine that escaped her lips when Harry pulled out of her only served to solidify that image of her.
“Yes. Say it,” he urged, having turned her around before thrusting his member back inside of her all at once. “We both know it’s the truth. You just have to say it. Tell me you’re mine.”
His thumbs brushed on her cheekbones while his cock dragged in and out of her channel and the sensations were too much for her, especially when he was looking at her like *that. “I-I can’t,” she resisted. “I can’t get closer to you.”
Harry didn’t like that. No more soft caresses, his hands left her face to grip the cushions underneath her, so he could speed up his movements once more, pounding her against the couch.
“Oh, so you prefer to touch yourself while thinking of me, and leaving me frustrated, is that it?” The way he was talking to her had her tightening around him once more, and she knew it wouldn’t belong until she cummed all over him. “Too fucking bad, the only way I can stand to be close to you now is if I’m buried in this little cunt.”
Her vision blurred and she buried her nails in his biceps, her mouth falling open right when Harry ordered her to, “Cum, fucking cum.” Her pussy clenching around him brought him to his own orgasm, and he threw his head back as he too reached his high.
They relished in the aftermath for a while, enjoying the comfortable silence that had fallen between them for the first time. But when Y/N tried to push him away so she could clean herself up, Harry lifted his head to look her in the eye and said, in the most serious voice she had ever heard him use, “You’re not going to sleep without me. I wasn’t joking.”
And she was surprisingly okay with that.
#my fics#harry styles smut#smut#harry styles#my requests#harry styles request#harry styles x reader#harry styles reader#harry styles reader insert#harry styles reader inserts#harry styles fanfiction
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drama love || qian kun
¤ pairing: qian kun x reader
¤ genre: comedy, slight angst, drama, college!au, drama club!au, president of the drama club!kun x star of the drama club! reader, enemies to lovers-ish, frenemies to lovers, friends to lovers, fashion major! reader, business major!kun, tsundere!kun.
¤ synopsis: You and Kun always have this weird relationship where you’re not necessarily enemies but not exactly friends. Most of the time, you would be seen scolding by Kun for skipping club meetings to hang out with the other seniors despite the fact that you were one of the main lead actresses of the club. And as time goes on, watch as you and your senior’s relationship blossom into something more than a simple friendship between two college students.
¤ warnings: tsundere kun! swearing, probably some innuendos but nothing too bad, kun is a year older than the reader, height discrimination against Ten and Kun (I’m sorry), kun a bit more chaotic here than in real life. Lots and lots of teasing and insults, slight mentions of burdening someone, arguments, genz humor, probably a plot hole or two, bullying kun supremacy
¤ wordcount : 23.5 k words
¤ playlist: double take by dhruv, free love by g, if i could write a bike by chevy, lovely night by ryan gosling and emma stone, kataomoi by aimer
¤ a/n: featuring a few of my moots!
“Oh,Y/n, good to see you here,” your underclassmen greeted with a polite bowl as you shot them a smile.
“Hey Chenle, Furou,” you waved, adjusting the beret on your head as you tugged on the saddle of your back to adjust it on your shoulder. “Y/n, meet Sungchan. He just transferred from the Business Department,” Chenle introduced, putting a hand on the taller boy beside him as Furou let out a soft chuckle. You smiled at the tall boy, looking up at what you assume to be a 180 cm giant standing in front of you. “Wow, you’re pretty tall. You know you could be one of the main leads of the drama club,” you raised your brow with a light laugh, shaking the younger boy’s hand.
“Jisung is almost taller than me,” Sungchan chuckled bashfully, looking down at his feet as he retracted his arm. “Oh hush, you’re still taller than our male lead. He’s literally 170 centimeters, I don’t even know how he’s able to get the part. Curse his pretty privileges,” you grumbled under your breath, remembering how your co-partner on the stage was constantly flirting with his girlfriend during practice instead of actually helping with painting the props like the rest of the club members.
“You also have pretty privileges too, though,” Furou raised her brow, a smile tugging at her lips as you huffed. “Flattery will get you nowhere, honey,” you joked, a sinister smile playing at your lips as you watched a deadpan expression flash over your underclassman’s features. “What are you three up to?” you asked, putting your hands on your hips. “We’re just going to go to a nearby cafe, they say they’re having a huge discount on their infamous cheesecake,” Chenle explained, pointing his thumb behind him as Furou nodded in agreement.
“I don’t want to be the third wheel, so I’m off studying and catching up with my major,” Sungchan informed with a nervous chuckle, a distressed expression making its way onto his face afterwards as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I see. Well, I hope you all have fun,” you chuckled, pulling the sleeve of your sweater back to reveal the watch on your wrist, your eyes widening slightly at the time. “Oh dear God, would you look at the time,” you blurted out loud, a panicked smile forming at your lips.
Furou laughed at the sight of your terrified expression. “I suggest you should really get going, too,” Furou added, stretching her head to look behind you to spot a certain someone. “Yeah, if you don’t hurry, your escort will get here,” Chenle snickered, nudging his girlfriend’s sides as they both shared knowing looks. “Escort?” Sungchan furrowed his brows in confusion, watching you gulp heavily as the two continued to tease and snicker at you mischievously. “Y/n’s pretty notorious for skipping her drama club,” Chenle explained, his sinister grin never leaving his face.
“Therefore, everyday, the club president comes down to pick her up. The drama club escort is pretty scary,” Furou added with a small snort, making you let out a scoff as you crossed your arms against your chest with a roll of your eyes. “I skip club meetings because I love interacting with all my seniors and underclassmen, duh,” you said, lifting your brow as if it was the most obvious thing ever. “Sure, whatever you say then, Y/n,” Furou and Chenle nodded with a roll of their eyes.
Now, you would probably imagine said club president would arrive in some sort of carriage. Probably the same pumpkin carriage Cinderella used back in her fairytale story. You would probably expect said escort would at least show up in a white or black suit, a button up shirt and beautiful slicked back hair. You would expect an escort to say ‘my lady’ and gently hold your hand as you step into the carriage and take you away as two horses pull the carriage away to your desired destination.
At least that’s what Sungchan thought.
Of course, it’s not a usual sight to see some random guy sprint down the halls shamelessly yelling your name at the top of his lungs with anger flaring his pupils, his fluffy blond hair thrown back against the wind as he ran as fast as his legs could take him as if he was running for the Olympics. He looked exactly like that running emoji except this guy had blonde hair and was wearing a baggy hoodie over his form, some black jeans and a pair of Nike shoes to accent his whole look.
“Y/N! WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT BEING LATE TO THE CLUB MEETINGS?!”
“That’s my signal to leave, I’ll see you guys arou-” before you could sprint the other way or finish your sentence, you felt someone grab the back of your sweater tightly to keep you from going anywhere. “I have been looking for you for the past thirty five minutes! And now you’re going to fucking run away?” Kun gave you a bittersweet smile, his eyes screaming bloody murder as you paused in fear. You gulped, looking back with a nervous toothy smile, giving your senior a small thumbs up.
“Good afternoon, Kun, how may I help you?” you asked in the sweetest voice you could muster, sweat dripping down your forehead as you watched Kun’s stare grow even more murderous with your words. “I’m sorry for the interruption,” Kun said in a genuinely nice tone, turning to your underclassmen with an angelic smile before glaring daggers at you before tugging you back to the direction of the school theater room with all his might. You stumbled over your own feet, gripping the saddle of your bag as Kun continued to practically drag you against the floor to the theater room.
“W-Wait, Kun! I can walk myself,” you grunted, an awkwardly nervous laugh elicited from your lips as you used one hand to grip on your bag and used the other to keep your beret to your head as Kun continued to pull you by the back of your sweater. Kun sighed heavily, grabbing your arms and pulling you up to your feet before turning you around and wrapping his fingers against your shoulder blades and began to push you to the direction he came from. “I swear, one of these days I will fling you to the theater room,” Kun grumbled under his breath as you both walked through the crowded halls filled with eyes boring into the back of your skulls.
“Kinky,” you snickered, waving at the people you recognized as you and Kun speed walked to the theater room together. You felt him squeeze your shoulder as a type of indicator that you should keep your mouth shut before he actually flings you to the sun like a frisbee. “Shut up, you horny creature. I am not going to be provoked by your unholy perverted thoughts. This should be counted as harassment,” he hissed as you finally stopped once you opened the door to the theater room.
“Why do you even skip practice, you’re the main lead for pete's sake,” Kun groaned, releasing his grip from your shoulders to wrap his fingers against your wrist and head to the stage where the rest of the actors had gathered around.
“It’s about time you showed up,” Brooke snickered as Kun let you take a seat right beside her, huffing as you cupped your cheeks in your palms and propped your elbows up on your legs. “Yeah, yeah. Do kiss my ass more, would you, Brooke?” you giggled, shaking your head as Kun started talking about repainting the old props as the paints were chipping off because Angie and Renjun forgot to buy more primer for the last play you had over two weeks ago. “Y/n, please do try to not fuck anything up while we paint,” Kai joked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
“It’s in my blood to fuck things up, Kai,” you shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous grin taking place on your lips. “Where were you off to, though? It took Kun half an hour to find you this time,” Haechan, Kai’s boyfriend, whispered from beside her in curiosity. “That’s like a new record, you had a great hiding place this time,” he gave you a supportive thumbs up, earning a smack from Kai afterwards for tolerating your irresponsible behavior. “The other side of the building,” you grinned, giving the boy an innocent peace sign.
“That’s our lead actress right there,” Brooke shook her head profusely, chuckling softly at you.
------------------------
“Wait, Kun, since you’re in charge of the sets and props. Does that mean you aren’t in the plays?” Shotaro asked, dipping his brush in the can of pain before splattering dots on the surface of the wooden board by brushing his fingers against it to resemble stars. Shotaro was the newest member of the drama club, therefore Kun, being the president of the club, had the responsibility of guiding him a lot on what to do and what not to do. Which was a fairly simple job considering all he had to say was ‘never follow in Y/n or Ten or Kai or Angie’s footsteps and you’ll be just fine.’
Kun hummed, running a hand through his hair as he sat down in front of the younger boy with crossed legs. “I used to be in the plays but I think I like this a bit more,” Kun said with a charming smile, waving the large brush around as he helped Shotaro paint the skies. “I see,” Shotaro nodded in response, flinching when he felt your hand on his shoulder as you came barging in their conversation. “No, no, Shotaro, you got it all wrong,” you shook your head at him, earning a pout from Kun.
“Kun wanted to win the male lead and grow taller to fit the role of the prince of the stage, but alas,” you leaned over to sling your arm over your senior’s shoulders, earning a death glare from said man as he furrowed his brows and frowned at you. “Our Kun here suffered from malnutrition, therefore he stopped growing completely and now he isn’t tall enough to make it to the male lead,” you grinned, over-exaggerating your words just a tad bit as Kun raised the can of paint by the metallic handle. “I am this close to throwing this can of paint at you,” Kun deadpanned.
Shotaro hummed, raising his brow at the two of you. “Isn’t Ten shorter than Kun, though?” Shotaro asked, his eyes wandering to the boy in question who was currently chatting up his girlfriend as they painted over their own set of props. “Yes, thank you! Finally, someone who looks at things through my eyes!” Kun groaned, grabbing Shotaro’s hand and shaking it rather vigorously in his grip. “Shotaro, you are an angel,” he complimented, causing you to frown at this.
“Ah yes, all it takes to get on Kun’s side is to tell him that he’s taller than Mister Chittaphon. Of course,” you huffed, sitting back in between them as you placed your cheek against your fist, looking back down at the prop. “Again, this close to throwing you this can of paint,” Kun repeated with a roll of his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll sue you, Kun,” you sent him a cheeky grin, patting your senior’s shoulder in mock pity as he rubbed his temples in frustration, causing you and Shotaro to giggle.
You weren’t quite sure if it was obvious, but you’ve always admired Kun. You didn’t know if your feelings were in the romance department or the mentor department, but you couldn’t help but admire your lovely senior. He was at the top of his major, studying hard everyday and managing his own things while keeping the club in good shape despite the fact that he has three hooligans (consisting of you, Ten, Kai and Angie but mostly you) to handle on a daily basis.
You knew he was an explendid cook, too. Considering he brought a whole buffet for the whole club that he cooked all by himself to celebrate the new anniversary of this club. Kun was talented and good looking, you couldn’t deny it even if you tried.(and thankfully, you don’t need to because no one ever asked about your thoughts on your handsome senior) He was caring, despite the fact that he was always yelling at your ear everyday, but nonetheless you knew he actually cared about you deep down.
Kun was the reason why you had joined the drama club in the first place. You weren’t much of a theater kid, but you were pretty good at acting back in highschool. Just as when you promised yourself not to get involved with the art of theater, you saw Kun acting as a prince in a play at a fair your college hosted back when you were in your first year of college and you couldn’t help but sign up immediately so you could get a closer look at his acting. And as time went on, your playful nature was the reason why he was always by your side.
You refused to think deeper about your feelings on the boy, but you knew they were crossing the line of friendship. Considering the true reason you always skipped classes was (partially to socialise and chat up your seniors and underclassmen to catch up with them) the fact that Kun would always be there to bring some entertainment into your day whenever you even attempt to skip the club meetings. Pushing aside the fact that you almost lost your life over it countless times, you didn’t mind facing the wrath of Kun everyday just to get a few laughs out.
Infuriating and teasing him was always a fun activity.
Quite ridiculous, you gotta agree.
Though, you gotta admit that sometimes his words hurt. You knew he was probably joking most of the time but you couldn’t help but feel saddened sometimes whenever he would grumble on and on about how you shouldn’t have joined the club if all you’re going to do is annoy him all the time. But you didn’t let his words linger in your mind for too long and chose to focus on annoying him either way.
“Damn, Kun. You should stop getting angry so much before your veins pop out, I don’t think any of us are mentally stable enough to call the ambulance for you,” Kai joked as she stood next to said man who was currently trying his best not to beat the living crap out of you right next to you. “Agreed. You’re old enough, Kun, you don’t need any more wrinkles than you already have, you know?” you teased, poking Kun with the wooden hand of his paint brush with a smug expression on your face.
“This is age discrimination,” Kun mumbled under his breath after a big sigh of exhaustion, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. “Okay, I discussed this with Ten early and I figured I should have informed you too so I’m telling you now about the new story we’re going with for the next play,” Kun ran a hair through his hair, adjusting the glasses on his face as you cocked your head to the side in confusion. “Wait, what’s wrong with the story I suggested?” you furrowed your brows, offended at his sudden decision to change the story.
Kun narrowed his eyes, brows furrowing at you as if he was trying to decipher if you were joking or not. “Are you mental?” Kun asked, crossing his arms against his chest as his eyes went wide, a smile of disbelief on his lips. “How the hell did you think a made up story between the dragon and the donkey from Shrek was ever going to be a good plot for a theatrical play?” he exclaimed in disbelief, causing you to scoff as he waved his arms around in confusion. “You just don’t know what a real beautiful story is, Qian Kun,” you scoffed, crossing your arms against your chest.
Kun groaned, closing his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose to keep himself from exploding right in front of you. “I get how you want to make people around you laugh, but I don’t want this club to be the laughing stock of campus, Y/n,” he groaned, hunching his back as he massaged the space in between his eyes to try to reason with you. However, seeing the older boy in distress was like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, you couldn’t help but get on his nerves and push on his buttons even more than you should.
“People need some laughter, Kun. What are you planning, anyways? Some boring Romeo and Juliet type of shit? Twist it up a bit, if you don’t like the donkey and dragon trope I can give you a new one on the spot,” you waved him off before gasping loudly as an idea popped into your head like a lightbulb turning on. “What about Romeo but make it a furry Rapunzel? Romeo, Romeo! Let down your hair! Or tail, whichever works. Be original, Kun!” you nudge your friend with an encouraging wide smile.
Kun opened his mouth to speak as his brows furrowed in confusion before closing it after a small pause. “Dear god, you’re even worse than Yangyang when he asked if he could put crocs on Louis,” he hissed, sighing heavily when he made a note to himself to never come to you for plot ideas for the play. “You should be in the Writing major instead of the fashion major, it suits you,” he commented with a sarcastic thumbs up. “Nice try, Kun. Flattery is no way to get me to change,” you winked, earning a small chuckle from Kun himself.
“Anyways, I was talking over story inspirations with Brooke and Angie. They had some really good suggestions and we ended up choosing this movie called La La Land-” he frowned when he saw you slowly lay down against the wooden floor boards with a loud annoyed groan. “Dear God, Kun. Couldn’t you at least go with something original? My Furry Romeo concept was way better than this,” you swung an arm over your eyes as Shotaro let out a loud alarming yelp when he saw your arm almost knock over a can of blue paint over the props.
Kun rolled his eyes once again, taking a loud exhale as he met your eyes that practically screamed ‘please don’t yell at me, it was an accident. I cry easily’.
“As I was saying, it’s about a pianist and an actress falling in love while attempting to reconcile their aspirations for the future. It’s an enemies to lovers-ish type of story,” he ignored how you kept groaning and complaining in the middle of his words. “And I’m supposed to be playing this actress?” you asked, removing your arm from your eyes to lay it on your stomach as you turn your head to look at Kun with a raised brow. “No shit, you’re our lead actress,” Kun leaned over to smack his hand on your knee with a small chuckle.
“You know if you still want the lead role so badly, Kun. You can take my place in this play, just this once,” you grinned, raising your index finger at him and twirling it in front of his face in circular motions as you sat up. Kun frowned, rolling his eyes as he gently pushed your finger away from his face. “No thanks, princess,” he teased, standing up after ruffling your hair with his hand to go check on the other members on their painting progress so far. “Hey, watch the beret! It’s new, you know!” you hissed before pausing when words that slipped out of Kun’s mouth had finally sunk into your brain, feeling your heart skip a beat at his soft tone.
Kun has never used nicknames or pet names on you. It was always the regular ‘dumbass’, ‘y/n’, ‘l/n, ‘the bane of my existence’ or the occasional ‘the reason why I wished murder was legal’. But it was never ‘princess’. It felt weird being called that, a good kind of weird. You didn’t know if you liked it. The sound of the pet name rolling off of his tongue did something to you and you didn’t know whether to find it ominous or exhilarating.
“Did he just call you ‘princess’?” Brooke gaped, her jaw dropping to the floor as she ran over to your shocked state. Your eyes widened slightly at her sudden appearance, playing it off casually afterwards as you shrugged nonchalantly at her. “I think so? Why?” you asked, leaning back a bit to relax your posture as Brooke gave you a knowing smirk. “That literally has never happened before,” she grinned, sitting down beside you with a half beta-read script. “Really? Then you must’ve never watched his acting performances before,” you snickered, your mind having flashbacks to Kun’s face always flushing beet-red back when he was the male lead of the play.
You always teased him for not being able to say ‘my love’ without being a tomato on stage during practice before he stopped auditioning for roles half way through your first year of college. “God, I missed his acting days. Back then, I would be the one making fun of him off stage,” you sighed, chuckling sinisterly when you remembered how Kun had to hop off the stage unceremoniously in his prince costumes to chase you down the school halls whenever you made fun of a certain gesture he made when rehearsing his lines with the previous lead actress. (who had graduated early to pursue a career in music, if you recalled properly)
“Ah yes, Lunatic Prince Kun chasing down one of the well known clowns this school had ever seen. I still remembered laughing my ass off when Kun dropped his crown midway and had to hold it to his head as he ran down the halls to catch you,” Brooke snickered, shaking her head at the vivid memory, remembering how Kun had cursed out loud when he dropped the (quite expensive) fake crown onto the tiled floor of the halls. “Damn, someone should’ve taken a picture. I didn’t look bad that day considering I was wearing my latest designer shoes back then,” you pouted, putting your chin under your palm as you let out a huff of breath.
“You know,” Ten, Brooke’s boyfriend, spoke up behind the two of you as he came up to sling an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders with a smug expression. “You and Kun have been getting a lot closer than usual. He’s picking you up for practice everyday, right?” he asked, a smirk adorning his lips as he wiggled his eyebrows at you suggestively. You snorted, waving your hand off. “The man almost ripped my sweater off because he was practically dragging me against the floor. We’re close, alright,” you nodded in agreement, patting the beret on your head afterwards.
“Sounds like Kun has some kind of crush on you to me, though,” Ten added, a mischievous smile spreading across his lips, attracting attention from another one of the club members, Angie. “Kun? We’re talking about Qian Kun, right?” she jumped into the conversation shamelessly, wrapping her arms around your neck to engulf you in a small back hug. You were taken aback by this sudden statement, gently pulling her arms away from you as you shook your head aggressively. “Where the fuck did that come from, Ten Lee?” you spluttered, a flustered expression making its way onto your face.
Angie laughed. “Are you shitting me, right now? Kun? The Qian Kun? Having a crush? On the Y/n L/n? I knew you were on crack but I didn’t know you were that high, Lee,” she snorted, doubling over laughing at the thought of Kun having a crush on you with Brooke joining in on the ridiculous conclusion her boyfriend has come to. “Yeah, no, that’s not happening,” she shook her head at you, wiping an invisible tear from her face as Angie leaned her arm on your shoulder.
You furrowed your brows as you leaned back with an offended expression. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you exclaimed, looking at your two friends who were bawling their eyes out laughing with a confused expression. “No offense, Y/n. But with the reputation you and Kun have the past two years and people occasionally shipping the two of you for your chaotic interactions, once they truly walk into this theater, thoughts on you being a couple would be thrown out of the window without any hesitation,” Brooke shook her head, giggling behind the back of her hand.
“Don’t get us wrong. I personally think you two would be cute together once you stop getting at each other’s throats. But right now? I think Kun is more interested in his own toenails than you,” Angie jokes, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “The other day, the man was about to throw a bag out of the window at you when he spotted you running away from the third floor,” she added, wheezing out afterwards as she and Brooke continued to giggle. “She isn’t wrong, perse,” Brooke shrugged.
You couldn’t help but shrug in defeat, a small laugh eliciting from your lips afterwards. “I guess you’re kind of right.”
----------------------------------
You didn’t know what’s wrong with you lately but you couldn’t get Brooke and Angie’s words out of your head since last week’s practice for some odd reason. You would find yourself thinking them over as you were embroidering on one of your clothes for a school project that was due in a couple of days, your brows furrowing as you got lost in your own thoughts as you sat next to your classmate in the fashion department room.
What the hell did they even mean by ‘Kun was more interested in his own toenails than you’? Clearly he’s more interested in you than you would think considering he always picked you up everyday after your morning classes are over for the afternoon club meetings. They clearly don’t know what they’re talking about. Just because you’re always facing the wrath of Qian Kun doesn’t mean he despised you, right? He knows you just like to joke around and push on his buttons, you overheard him laughing it off and calling your silly antics ‘amusing’ once when you were passing by his side of the building.
You cursed incoherently when the needle you were using suddenly broke in half from how hard you were gripping it, grumbling as you realised you have to continue with a new one. You tied the string into a knot against the fabric, cutting the string off as you stood up to walk over to the trash can near the entrance door to throw away the broken needle. A sharp click of the door caught your attention, figuring that it was probably your professor, you turned around only to face none other than Qian Kun, the man of the hour.
“Kun?”
Kun looked up from his papers, his doe eyes gazing up at you before widening slightly. “Oh, Y/n, hey,” he gave you a kind smile, removing one of his hands from his papers to give you a small wave. “What are you doing here? Have you finally decided to accept my offer of throwing away all of your clothes in exchange for my masterpieces?” you couldn’t help but tease, raising your brow at him as you placed the back of your hand on your hips, inevitably causing the older boy to frown.
“One day I’m going to really fling you to the sun,” he deadpanned, eliciting a small giggle from you. “Sure thing, old man. For real, though, what are you doing here? Came to see your favorite underclassman?” you wiggled your brows, laying your fingers on your chest jokingly as Kun rolled his eyes with a small chuckle. “As a matter of fact, I did come here to see my favorite underclassman,” he nodded, a genuine smile settling upon his facial features as he waved the back of his papers in front of your face.
Taken aback, you waved him off with a hand, laughing lightly as you felt your heart increasing it’s pace. “Stop, I feel honored to be the infamous Qian Kun’s favorite underclassman. I always knew deep down you liked me-,” you avoided his eyes, chuckling nervously at his word before you were suddenly cut off by one of your classmates who called out Kun’s name behind you from the other side of the room. “There he is! My favorite underclassman,” Kun raised a hand to wave at the boy who called out his name with a smile.
You furrowed your brows, turning around to see the charming Jung Jaehyun jogging up to the two of you with a smile on his face. “Hey hyung,” Jaehyun greeted giving Kun the typical weird bro-hug the male college students in your school often did. “Hey, y/n,” Jaehyun greeted, giving you a polite smile and a small bow despite the fact that you were bugging him a couple minutes ago while he was finishing a new sketch while calling with his friend, Doyoung, who was in the culinary department.
“Hey Jaehyun,” you eyed the boy suspiciously. “Jaehyun’s your favorite underclassman? And all this time I thought you and I had something, ‘hyung’,” you mocked the same tone Jaehyun used, crossing your arms against your chest as you huffed, eliciting a few laughs from the two boys. “I’m sorry that you’re too delusional,” Kun grinned mischievously with a wave of his papers, patting your head with the small stack of papers in his hand before walking off with Jaehyun to the desk he was using.
You gave him the stink eye, earning the finger from Kun, himself. Scoffing as you walked back to your desk where your friend,Abhie, was making no effort to hide the fact that she was laughing at your little misunderstanding. “Stop laughing, it’s embarrassing enough as it is,” you huffed, sitting down on your chair with a sour expression as you reached over the desk to grab a new needle to use to finish the design on your old shirt. “Let me take in on how embarrassing that was first,” she laughed, watching as you try your best to cover your flustered expression.
“Kun and Jaehyun have been spending time with each other a lot more than usual, don’t you think?” you asked as you grabbed a new embroidery thread from the bundle in front of you, measuring the thread as you unwind the bundle. “They’re in different majors but they look quite busy, I don’t think Jaehyun’s even in the drama club. I’m pretty sure he has to deal with his own writing club so I’m sure he isn’t joining the drama club,” you analysed under your breath, your brows furrowing in concentration.
“Guess someone got sad that her senior didn’t see her as their number one underclassman,” Abhie raised her brow, crossing her arms over her chest as she placed her finished embroidery on the table you were both sharing. “What are you talking about? I may not be his favorite underclassmen, but I know I’m definitely his number one,” you lied, huffing dramatically to make your friend laugh even more. You knew very well that you’re definitely not Kun’s number one, but seeing your friend laugh was amusing. And you felt the urge to push on Kun’s buttons as payback for deceiving you. (sort of)
Abhie scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Believe what you want,” she laughed, an amused smile taking over both of your faces as you stood back up and placed your needle back on the table beside your embroidery hoop. “Observe,” you snickered, turning around to walk towards said senior with a loud call of his name, ignoring how most of your classmates instantly gave you death glares from every corner of the room for disrupting the quiet atmosphere you all had developed over the past couple of hours.
“Kun! Qian Kun!” you exclaimed, jogging up to him as he continued his talk with Jaehyun.
“I sense an incoming dissatisfaction,” Kun deadpan, sighing heavily as he felt your presence grew closer with every step, causing Jaehyun to snicker at the older’s half annoyed and half embarrassed expression. “Who’s cuter? Me or Jaehyun?” you asked, putting an arm over his shoulder and tugging him towards you. “Jaehyun,” he stated almost immediately with a monotone, his gaze never tearing away from the papers in his hands.
You frowned, causing Jaehyun to laugh even more than he already has. “You didn’t even hesitate to think,” you frowned, retracting your hand to put your hands on your hips as you narrowed your eyes at your senior. “Didn’t need to,” Kun grinned sinisterly, shooting you a small glance before looking back down at his papers with a poker face. “Ouch, my heart hurts now,” you winced dramatically, laying a hand on your heart as you took a step back and swung the back of your free hand against your forehead.
“My heart’s been broken so many times-”
“Don’t you have your embroidery assignment to finish?” Jaehyun asked, an amused smile on his face as Kun gave you a perplexed expression, his brows furrowed and his mouth gaped open as he tried to find the words to speak. “Oh shit, right, nevermind,” you lowered your hand with wide eyes, closing your mouth shut at the reminder. “I’ll see the two of you later,” you waved, waddling back to your desk when you remembered that you had two days left to finish said assignment and you were barely halfway done.
“As you should!” Kun exclaimed.
“So?” Abhie raised her brow at you with a small hum. “I’m definitely his number one,” you popped up, giving her an enthusiastic thumbs up and a wide smile. “I am not believing that,” she giggled, shaking her head as you scoffed and went back to finishing your design on your shirt. “Why do you and Kun fight 24/7, though? I swear, you two are infamous for arguing on a daily basis. You’re not even in the same year or major, it’s hilarious,” Abhie laughed in disbelief, running a hand through her long hair.
“Tough love,” you exclaimed with another enthusiastic thumbs up. “Unrequited tough love,” she added with a soft snort, causing you to laugh as well. “He’ll learn to love me soon enough, just you wait,” you waved her off, sticking your tongue out as you tried to slip the thread into the tiny hole in your needle.
-
“What if we do a musical for the next play?”
“Kun, stop flexing. We know you just want to sing.”
Kun frowned upon the sound of your voice, turning his head to glare at you as you laid down on the wooden floorboards of the stage. “I swear, if violence weren't against my morals, I would’ve kicked her to the moon. God give me strength, I don’t have enough cash for bail money,” Kun groaned, rubbing his hands against his face in distress as you and a few other club members laugh at his reaction. “I admire the amount of patience God has given you, Kun,” Gwen patted his back sympathetically.
“Gender equality at it’s finest,” you cheered, raising your hands up enthusiastically before they flopped down almost painfully against the floor of the stage. Kun rolled his eyes, walking over to the other side of the room to discuss the play with the other members of the club. “You really like Kun, huh?” Brooke raised her brow at you, wiggling them afterwards when you met her eyes with an enthusiastic nod. “Of course, I do! He’s my senior after all,” you sat up, stretching your arms over your head with a yawn.
“The smile on your face makes your words seem so passive aggressive,” Kai chuckled, shaking her head profusely. “Oh hush, it may seem like I’m pushing his buttons on purpose but I actually really admire Kun. He’s the reason why I got into this club in the first place,” you exclaimed with a genuine smile, turning your head to watch the older boy flip through the script with Ten and Renjun from the other side of the theater room. “Wait, what?” Kai’s eyes widened at your sudden statement.
“Yeah, I actually got into this club because of Kun! I remember it like it was yesterday, I was just walking around campus and I passed by the theater. He was practicing for a play and I was like ‘damn, mans got skills.’ And at one point he gave me a flyer to join this club and encouraged me to join, which is why I’m here now,” you explained, shrugging casually as you leaned back against your hands behind you with a soft smile. “And if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have met you guys,” you added on.
“Cool, but I was asking about the part when you said you weren’t pushing his buttons on purpose,” Kai chuckled, earning a soft smack to the arm from you as Brooke let out a loud laugh in response. “Same, same. I can’t believe you’re not annoying him on purpose, I mean, I’m not complaining. It creates more romantic tension that I could use for my literature essays,” she shrugged, slinging her arm over your shoulder with an enthusiastic grin. “Of course I’m annoying him on purpose,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m not that big of an airhead, you know,” you scoffed as you pushed Brooke’s arm off of your shoulders.
“You know, there’s a chance that Kun would replace Ten in the play this time?” Haechan asked, plopping himself down beside his girlfriend while chewing a mouthful of bread. “Excuse me?” your eyes widened, straightening your back up as you and the girls lean over to hear Haechan more clearly. “Ten got an opportunity to go to an Art Gallery in Busan, he’s not sure if he’s going though but if he does, he can’t be back in time for next month’s play,” Haechan informed, pulling out a cupcake from his bag and handing it to Kai.
Brooke’s eyes lit up at this. “Oh yeah, he told me about that! It’s a great opportunity for Ten, I doubt he’s going to deny the offer for some play,” Brooke chuckled, shaking her head at her own boyfriend. “So, you’re telling me that there’s a chance I’ll be doing the play with Kun?” you asked, eyes wide as a wide smile spread across your face. “Oh god, I’ve never actually acted in a play with Kun before. He stopped acting by the time I joined the club,” you exclaimed excitedly, your hands balled up into balls at the thought of acting side by side with your senior on stage.
“More opportunities for you to bully our Kun,” Kai giggled, nudging your sides with her elbow as you nodded eagerly. “That too!” you agreed with an enthusiastic nod, raising your hands up in the air at the thought of finally seeing Kun act on stage once again. “Honestly, I thought I’d see myself on Mars sooner than seeing myself and Kun on the stage together performing,” you scratched the back of your neck with a nervous chuckle as Kun began walking over with stacks of paper in his hands.
“Here’s your script for the next play, rehearsals are going to start tomorrow so y/n,” Kun gave you a knowing look, eyes boring holes into your head as you gave him an innocent smile and a peace sign as you take the paper away from his hand, your fingertips grazing his own. “Don’t be late,” he sighed heavily, smacking the stack of papers on the top of your head softly before distributing the actors their own scripts.
You purse your lips, rolling your eyes. “‘Don’t be late’,” you mocked his tone, shaking your head at the elder. “As if you don’t pick me up every morning class before I even have the chance to be late,” you mumbled under your breath, earning a smack upside the back of your head from your friends, letting out a yelp in response. “What was that for?” you rubbed the spot where your friend hit, turning your head around to see Furou with a cocky grin. “Come on, we actually have a pretty strict deadline this time,” Furou sat beside you, patting your back.
“They say the school is holding some sort of event next month and Kun’s taking this pretty seriously considering the money we earn from this play will be donated to charity,” Furou explained, kicking her feet as she looked around the theater. “So you’re going to be dragged around Kun a lot during rehearsals,” Furou chuckled, giving you a look of mock sympathy, causing you to groan loudly and lay back down on the wooden floor of the stage.
“Oh well, at least I get to see our lord and savior, Qian Kun, act on stage again,” you gave her a sarcastic thumbs up, smiling at her as you turned your head around to look at the boy in question who was furrowing his brows as he read over Kai’s script with an intense expression, a hand pushing back a part of his dyed hair that was covering part of his eyes, his parted lips mouthing the words printed on the paper.
Your friend chuckled at how intently you were staring at the older boy, shaking her head profusely. “Does this mean you’re going to stop being annoying momentarily?”
“Keep dreaming.”
-
“As you may have heard from our precious club members, I will be replacing Ten as your supposed love interest on stage,” Kun said, popping out of nowhere as he pulled the chair in front of you to sit right across the table. You furrowed your brows, “are you stalking me?” you frowned, looking up from your phone as you carefully sipped your beverage. You swore that this man was psychic, he can sense where you are whenever and wherever and it was almost not funny.
Kun rolled his eyes at you, crossing his arms against his chest as he let out a heavy sigh. “We have practice in two hours, I just happened to be in the library the same time as you do. Except I don’t come here for free coffee and free wifi,” he smacked his bag filled with a stack of books on accounting right on the table with a click of his tongue, taking you by surprise at the sudden sound. “I figured we could chat for a bit and walk to the theater room together since you’re oh-so-busy,” he grinned cheekily, causing you to roll your eyes.
“Excuse you, you’re not my babysitter. I can go to the theater room myself, thank you very much,” you huffed, frowning deeply at the unusual sight of his cheeky grin. You couldn’t help but admire how his eyes crinkled slightly as his lips stretched across his face, thus revealing his cute dimples that made you suppress the urge to poke them. Kun’s smile always had that weird effect on you and you didn’t know why. And you didn’t know if you liked it either.
Which was probably the main reasons why you liked pissing him off all the damn time.
“Sure, as if I don’t have to run like Sonic the Hedgehog all around campus to ensure that you’re not skipping,” Kun chuckled, shaking his head at you in amusement. “I’m just helping you, Kun. You always go on and on about losing weight even though you’re literally one of the fittest guys I’ve seen on campus. I’m helping you by making you exercise by disappearing every five seconds,” you went on dramatically, waving your hand around in circular motions as you spoke, sipping your drink with your free hand.
“You never fail to blow me away with your weird respon- did you just call me hot?” he raised his brows when he took a small pause at your words, causing you to stop sipping your cup. You paused, your eyes grew wide as they scattered to look everywhere but him, replaying your words in your head to figure out where he got that idea from. “I just called you fit, there’s a difference,” you slowly pulled your drink away from your mouth, trying to appear as casual as you could.
‘Keep calm, Y/n. Qian Kun can sense your fear.’ as you would often say.
“So you’re basically saying I look good?” Kun cocks his head to the side, a smirk playing on his lips as he raised his brow at you, taking you aback at his sudden cockyness. You paused, gulping as you stared into his eyes for a brief moment, sipping your drink loudly as you desperately tried to think of a good comeback. “What did you say our next play was about?” you spluttered, coughing when your voice cracked, putting a hand on your throat out of habit as you looked down at your feet.
Kun chuckled, looking down at his own hands when you changed the topic. “Since we did La La Land for the last play, I figured we’d do something old timey. A classic. Brooke and Xingyi managed to come up with a few plots and we came up with this story of a princess having a secret affair with her musketeer bodyguard,” Kun explained, choosing to let your words slide momentarily as you revert back to your casual self. “Oh god, Brooke and Xingyi came up with the plot?” you groaned, putting a hand on your face as you rubbed your forehead.
“Don’t tell me. It’s going to end in despair, isn’t it? Dammit, they know full well I despise getting all emotional on stage, I swear, they’re doing this on purpose,” you grumbled under your breath, plopping your now empty cup on the table with a scowl on your lips as Kun let out an amused laugh. “Oh shut up, they’re taking this chance to see me cry too, you know,” he raised his brow at you, leaning back and relaxing against his chair. You paused, taking his words in before clicking your tongue.
“You’re going to cry on stage?” you blurted out, your eyes going wide at the thought of seeing your senior cry in front of hundreds of people. “Can I rent a camera crew to take HD pictures of you in tears in front of me? I think that would be one hell of a sexy cinematic piece to go with my photography portfolio,” you asked, wiggling your eyebrows at the older boy with a teasing smile on your face.
Kun chuckled, tutting as he waved his finger at you rather sassily. “Look who’s being a stalker now?”
You leaned back, a frown settling upon your lips at his words as you huffed at him. “I’m doing this for humor purposes, it’s for the good of the world. And my own amusement, of course. Don’t you think a lovely picture of our dear president bawling his eyes out on stage would be a perfect decoration for our stage?” you asked, putting your hand up in the air as if you were caressing an invisible wall. Kun pressed his lips together to stifle a laugh, a hand on his chin and his fingers covering his lips.
“I think I’ll have to reconsider changing the plot to whatever donkey dragon furry type of fanfiction you came up with in your head back when we were doing La La Land.”
-
“You know, I thought you were gay,” you mumbled, drawing circles on the smooth surface of the piano as you continued to listen to Kun practice on the piano the music department had been using to practice for their own music show for the event. Kun let out a soft chuckle, “is this about the Jaehyun question you asked a couple of weeks ago?” he asked with a staggering breath, flipping through his music sheets as you continued to hum in confirmation.
Nothing had changed after Ten left for his trip to Busan. Other than the fact that Kun has been rehearsing his lines with you 24/7 considering you were his partner on stage after all. Though, he wouldn’t be as aggressive and you don’t have to sacrifice your perfectly good sweaters getting ruined as these days his ‘aggressive dragging by the back of whatever top you were wearing on that day’ technique had morphed into ‘pulling you by the wrist like a rag doll’ with a script in his hand.
You could see from a mile away that Kun was more than excited to finally be on stage again. And you couldn’t help but let a smile stretch across your lips whenever you sat beside him when you were reciting your lines together, watching the passion glimmer in his eyes as his face contorted with emotions as words spewed out of his mouth like a song bird chirping on a tree branch on a bright morning.
Kun had called you over after your class to try on the costumes that just arrived and to check on any imperfections and minor details. You were always his go-to fashion kid whenever he needs help with anything that involves fabric and accessories. The moment you opened the door, you were immediately greeted with melodious piano music and a rather handsome senior behind said piano with his brows furrowed in concentration. It was a rare sight to see for you.
“You said I needed to try on some outfits and inspect the costumes?” you put a hand on your hip, walking around the stage as Kun closed the piano lid while he got up on his feet. “As always,” Kun rolled his eyes, grabbing the saddle of his bag and slinging it over his shoulder as he walked over to you. “I told the others to place the costumes near the changing room, come on,” Kun placed a hand on your shoulder as you walked side by side to the changing room, his sudden touch sending shivers down your spine.
“You okay?” Kun asked all of a sudden, pausing in your steps.
You hummed, looking up at him in surprise, your eyes going wide. “You just shivered, is the ac too cold or something?” Kun asked, retracting his hand to slip it in his pocket as he looked around the theater room, extending his other hand to feel the cold atmosphere. “Yeah, I’m kind of chilly, I guess,” you mumbled with a slight nod, rubbing your arms to cover up your lie. You weren’t going to lie, you kind of liked the comforting way his hand felt on your skin.
“I’ll be fine, Kun. Let’s just go back to what we’re doing,” you scurried off to the changing rooms, spotting the opened box filled with plastic wrapped costumes and their props. Trying to shake the thought of holding Kun’s hand in yours out of your mind as you sat down on the wooden floor and began opening a few of the costumes to examine the details to look for odd spots or ripped fabric, hearing Kun’s footsteps catching up to you a few seconds later.
After a while of sitting side by side, focused on spotting any minor mistakes with the stitching and the quality of the costumes, it was finally time for you to test your own individual costumes. “So, which one do you think I should try first? The pretty princess gown or the Belle from Beauty and The Beast before she developed Stockholm syndrome?” you asked, nodding your head at the two dresses hanging by their clothing hangers in each of your hands. Kun laughed lightly at your small joke as you turned to the mirror, humming as you furrowed your brows.
“Try the peasant one first, the fabric looks pretty low quality compared to the dress,” Kun hummed, pointing at the brown dress in your left hand. You huffed, rolling your eyes as you placed the princess dress on the empty space on the chair beside Kun. “No shit, it is a peasant dress after all. Look at those improper cross stitches, they could’ve done a better ladder stitch on the waist,” you mumbled to yourself as you walked into the changing room and began to change into your new costume.
“This dress is kind of tight, though,” you commented as you tugged on the ribbon around your waist with one hand and unlocked the door with the other, seeing an unbothered Kun looking through his phone with his brows furrowed. “What do you think? See anything wrong with it?” you did a slow 360 twirl in front of him, tugging the edge of the dress down when you spotted a few wrinkles. “Could use some ironing,” Kun joked, putting a hand on his chin as he looked up at you admiring yourself at the mirror nearby.
“It’s a peasant dress, Kun. They purposely didn’t iron this to fit the aesthetic,” you turned around to your senior with your hands on your hips before outstretching your hand for Kun to give you your princess dress. “Princess dress, please! This is the one I’ve been looking forward to the most,” you grinned, causing Kun to chuckle as he grabbed the clothing hanger with the dress clinging onto it beside him and handing it to you. “Thank you, old man,” you snickered as you hopped in the dressing room again, dismissing the loud offended ‘hey!’ Kun had let out behind you.
Once you walked out of the dressing room, you were tugging on the gloves you were supposed to wear, adjusting the fake plastic tiara on your head. “Okay, Kun, round two. How do I look?” you asked, patting your sparkly dress to remove any dust sticking to the fabric. Kun looked up from the costume he was examining himself with unbothered eyes, which grew wide slightly at the sight before him.
To say you were astonishing to his eyes was nothing but an understatement. The way the dress defined the shape of your body, the way the crown had accented your face, the way the gloves covering your hands made you look so elegant and delicate. His heart raced as he watched you scratch your hair while examining yourself in the mirror to look for any rips in between the fabric and the designs. He had to keep himself from letting his jaw drop to the floor as his eyes scanned you from the cute little hello kitty socks you were wearing to the beautiful red crown placed on your head.
“Are you smiling at me, Qian Kun?”
He blinked, his eyes lowering down from your crown to your eyes, gulping silently as he realised you had caught him checking you out. He kissed his teeth nervously, leaning back against the chair as he looked down at his hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbled under his breath, shaking his head abruptly as he felt you take a few steps closer towards him with a smug expression on your face.
“You think I look good, don’t you?” you pointed an accusatory finger at the boy, who shook his head vigorously at you. “I was looking at the realistic tiara,” Kun coughed, clearing his throat as he stood up suddenly, taking you aback by how close the proximity between the two of you have become once he got to his feet. He resisted the urge to boop your nose as his hands went up to gently lift the tiara from your head, careful to not get any of your hair as he examined it in front of you with a sheepish smile.
‘God, what am I even doing?’ Kun thought to himself as he used his superb acting skills and squinted his eyes at the tiara in between his fingertips. Though, his attempt to cover up the fact that he was internally flustered was futile for your next words had thrown him into a state of shock for a few seconds. “You know you have a pretty smile,” you commented, your eyes boring into his casually as you watched Kun examine the tiara with a small smile.
His eyes grew wide at you, his body froze as his smile became crooked at the sound of your words escaping your lips. “Excuse me?” he said after a pregnant pause, your words echoing in the back of his skull over and over again like a broken record player, sending jolts of electricity into his own heart. “You have a very pretty prince smile,” you couldn’t help but reach up and poke the dimples protruding from his cheeks with your gloved finger, grinning mischievously when you saw how Kun’s nervous expression melted into one filled with embarrassment.
“Thanks,” he muttered, gulping as he plucked up the courage to carefully place your tiara on top of your head again, his fingers caressing your hair slightly. You felt your heart raced as he gently placed the tiara back where it was as if he was crowning you princess himself. “You should smile more,” you mumbled, feeling yourself grow sheepish as Kun’s hands carefully pulled away from you. “Yeah?” he hummed back, almost inaudibly as he looked down at your feet with a soft smile on his face.
“Can you smile more so you don’t exactly look like a body that just got pulled out of the river?”
Kun’s head shot up in alarm at your words, all of the bashful and giddy feeling bubbling up in his stomach evaporated instantly as he could feel his vein pop under his skin. Watching as your own flustered expression morphed into a smug one, adjusting your tiara with your gloved hand as you broke the intimate aura that had crawled its way between you two merely seconds ago.
“Just when I thought you were going to say something normal for once.”
-
“Oh, five minutes late! That’s the earliest you’ve ever been,” Lin exclaimed, putting the back of her hands on her hips as she watched Kun drag you across the floor into the theater room by the wrist as if he was dragging a body from the fiery pits of the underworld. “I wasn’t fast enough,” you groaned, standing up straight as your back was starting to hurt from your terrible posture. “You are not the Lightning McQueen you think you are, y/n,” Lin chuckled, shaking her head at you as Kun shut the door behind you and released his hold on your wrist.
“Exactly my thoughts,” Kun nodded in agreement, giving you an amused smile. “I like to believe I’m Sonic the Hedgehog or the Flash, but you do you,” you huffed, crossing your arms against your chest as you walked over to the other members of the club, who were all currently helping the others with their costume as you were all finally starting rehearsals considering the play was in less than two months.
“She’s coming in earlier than usual. Usually it would take you about fifteen minutes to half an hour to find her and another ten minutes to drag her here,” Lin commented, taking a step closer to Kun as she examined your figure socializing with the other club members, who were looking at you as if you had grown two heads. (no one could blame them for being shocked to see you on time, usually you would take centuries to get to the theater)
The boy beside her hummed as he shrugged. His hands dug through his bag for his phone and his script, oblivious to the smug expression Lin was giving beside him. “Mostly because we meet up before rehearsals start in the library to go over our lines,” Kun shrugged, pulling out the crumpled stapled papers from his bag pockets. “We might as well normalize seeing her arrive on time now,” he chuckled, flipping through the pages as he read through the sentences he highlighted a couple of weeks ago.
Lin raised her brow suspiciously, crossing her arms as Doyoung walked up to Kun with a confused expression. “Did something finally happen between you and y/n?” he asked, putting a hand on his chin as he stood in between Lin and Kun, squinting his eyes at you as he and the girl watched you revise your lines with your brows furrowed with the other members of the club. A tiara was placed on your head as you helped your fellow actors with their lines, your free hand making grand motions as you read your lines aloud.
Kun furrowed his brows at Doyoung’s statement. “What do you mean ‘finally’?” he asked with an incredulous expression, his head shooting up from his papers as he furrowed his brows at his friend. “I don’t know, there’s something suspicious with you and her arriving together. There’s something even more suspicious with the fact that you’re both arriving on time!” Doyoung exclaimed, crossing his arms against his chest, narrowing his eyes at his friend who gave him a confused expression.
“Apparently they’ve been having library dates everyday before rehearsals so they’re only a teensy bit late now,” Lin informed, a mischievous grin spreading across her face, causing Kun’s frown to deepen even more. “They’re not library dates, we’re just discussing and reading over our lines together,” Kun retorted, feeling his heart race in his chest at the thought of being on a date with you. He felt flustered at the mere thought of hanging out together as more than friends, but yet again, your little meetups felt more than just a casual hang out.
Though he was probably overthinking it again.
“Oh, so it’s definitely a date,” Doyoung confirmed.
“Agreed,” Lin nodded with a hum.
“It’s not, I’m just there to keep her from escaping campus before rehearsals start. I mean, we are having our big assignments coming up so I guess she doesn’t have that many people to talk to as a reason to ditch practice. “They’re just friendly meet-ups. How can it be a date if all she does is infuriate me and make my college life a living hell even more than Yangyang has. And that’s saying something considering I live in the same dorm,” Kun rambled on, his hands moving around and making dramatic gestures as words of complaint continued to spill out of his mouth like a leaking tap.
“Yet that doesn’t stop you from having a crush on her for the past two years, does it?” Doyoung smirked, raising his brow at his friend who had stopped talking upon hearing his question. Lin giggled, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth as Kun’s expression became flustered. You could practically hear ‘kun.exe.hasstoppedworking’ from the boy’s thick skull as Kun froze in place, trying to come up with some random reason to deny his friend’s words.
Alas, Kun was not much of a liar.
“Yeah,” Kun chuckled, looking down as he flushed, a giggly smile spreading across his features as his gaze shot up from his shoes to you. Okay, maybe he wasn’t much of a big liar but he was too whipped to deny it.
The soft, innocent smile on your face as you made a few of the club members laugh with your witty jokes and silly antics, watching them cackle and hold their stomachs to contain their laughter. That was Kun’s favorite smile. “It doesn’t,” Kun sighed rather dreamily, relaxing his figure as he leaned his head to the side to get a better look of your smile.
Truth be told, it really was no secret. Literally everyone in the club knew about Kun’s obvious crush on you ever since he ‘retired’ from being the male lead. Ever since the day he met you when you were just in your first year, looking for new friends and new hobbies to do. Ever since the first day he saw you audition for the main role back when the drama club was doing ‘Romeo and Juliet’ for the annual event your campus always hosts.
Watching you act on stage as part of the audience made Kun feel as if he was looking up at a sky scattered with stars. The way your personality completely morphs into the character you were portraying and the way you conveyed whatever message your character was trying to send out to the audience had made you find your way into his heart throughout all these years. The way your beauty sparkled under the lights, the way your expressions captured his heart on stage. The way your voice sends butterflies into his stomach as if you were ordering them to fetch his heart like an ominous siren.
He didn’t mind being teased by you every single day if it meant that he was getting your attention, he didn’t mind dragging you to the theater room everyday if it meant he got to get close to you. He didn’t mind being the target of your jokes if it meant that you two could get a tiny bit of interaction during practice, despite the fact that you two get nothing done together if so. After all, those were the original reasons why his liking for you grew ever so stronger. It was almost laughable.
Hell, it was making him crazy.
“KUN! Y/N IS RUNNING AWAY AGAIN!”
“DAMMIT, Y/N.”
Quite literally.
-
“Oh, how I longed to be in your arms after all these years, Abdul!” you cried out, clutching the dress with both of your hands as Kun wiped the invisible sweat off of his brow, dropping the sword he was clutching to the wooden floor of the stage as a look of despair stretched across your face.
You only had less than three weeks left of rehearsal, therefore, everyone had to be focused. You had been practicing for the past two hours now without breaks, your throat was sore from delivering lines and dehydration. One of the air conditioners wasn’t working very well this morning and maintenance was coming the next morning, leaving you and the rest of the club members under scorching heat. It was the middle of June, after all. And the god forsaken dress you were wearing was no help whatsoever.
“Princess Putri, my love, my little songbird! Oh how all of these years of holding myself back, all these years of fighting and hoping to reunite with thou,” Kun recited, his face scrunched up as if he had really been fighting a dozen of thieves to protect the princess. The expression on your face did nothing to show how awed you are at the sight of Kun’s acting. It’s been so long since you’ve seen Kun shine on stage again and quite frankly, you missed it.
You were seeing Kun’s superb acting performance right in front of you. He wasn’t even taking this as seriously as he should in the actual performance. You couldn’t imagine how magnificent his aura would be once the lights shine down upon him on stage once the day arrives. And you couldn’t help but admit that you couldn’t wait.
Though as much as you would stand on the stage to admire your senior’s acting performance, you were on the brink of being one with the sun itself. You watched with a sorrowful expression as Kun walked over to you, his boots making soft noises with every step he took, his hand on his chest as he came closer to you. You smiled slowly, focusing on staying in character as Kun recited the words written on your scripts.
Reciting the words as he perfectly brought the message his character, Abdul, was conveying to your character, Princess Putri, to life. It was like music to your ears.
You and Kun were standing in front of each other now, proximities close as the room grew dim save for the two stage lights shining down upon the two of you. The theater was almost as silent as a mouse except for the soft piano music Chenle was playing below the stage. The atmosphere felt seren, it made you feel as if it was just the two of you on stage, stuck in your own little world.
Eyes gazing into each other, your hands placed gently against his chest. Your fingers fiddling with the tassels on his shoulders, his hands coming around you only to land on your hips as he pulled your body towards his own, his face oh-so-close to your own. “May I indulge in the feeling of finally having your lips pressed on mine, my love?” Kun whispered, his soft voice booming across the speaker, half lidded eyes gazing down your lips before glancing back up to your eyes.
With glossy eyes, you looked up at him, sniffling into the mic softly before slowly nodding. A sad smile stretched across both of your lips as Kun leaned his head towards your face and leaned it to the side, thus covering both of your faces with his hat, giving the audience the illusion of the characters actually kissing. Upon hearing the club members clap for you, a few whistles from all around the theater room as the lights finally turned back on, you pulled away, making sure to add distance in between the two of you as you coughed awkwardly.
You couldn’t even stop your heart from beating so loudly in your ears as you clasped your hands behind your back, squeezing your hand into tight fists to calm yourself down. You’d like to think that it was the heat affecting you but you knew very well that there was no point in lying to yourself considering Kun was also avoiding your eyes for a brief moment. For a short moment, you couldn’t get the thought of Kun’s face being so close to yours out of your head. You couldn’t get the feeling of your heart which was on the brink of bursting out of your chest.
This never happened whenever you were acting with Ten on stage before, or any of your partners. It was odd to say the least. But your thoughts were cut short when your co-director spoke up to break the tension in the whole theater room.
“As expected of the president and our star,” Doyoung clapped unceremoniously, looking down at the clipboard he was holding in his arms as he flipped through the pages. “Okay, so, the play is in less than three weeks. We just need to adjust a few things then we’re good to go,” he announced with a loud clap, putting the clipboard in between his arms. “You all did good, we’re going to cut rehearsals short today, you all deserve it!” he added with a wide smile, earning enthusiastic cheers from the people around you.
You let out an exasperated groan, rubbing your face with your hands as you internally thank the gods that you decided to use your waterproof make up set today. “Dear god, I am literally being roasted alive,” you groaned, wiping the sweat off of your brows as you pulled the tiara off of your head and placed it on the props where the rest of the other crowns were being placed. Kun walked to your side, pulling his hat off of his head, being careful as to not get the feather on it. “I could tell how much you were practically dying out there,” he chuckled as you both made your way backstage.
“Why are our costumes so damn hot, too? The fabric is literally acting as an aluminum foil for baking us alive, the maintenance better be here before we arrive tomorrow or else I’m going to fling myself to the sun,” you tugged the bow off of your collar, fanning yourself with your hand as Kun pulled his gloves off of his hands. “Don’t worry, I’ll always be here to help you fling yourself to the sun,” Kun joked, running his hand through his hair to mess it up a bit.
“That’s so romantic of you, Kun.” You placed your hands on your hips, grinning mischievously at him. “Nice try, you’re never going to get rid of me until you graduate,” you stuck your tongue out teasingly at him, walking over to your bag filled with your clothes and heading off to the changing room.
As soon as you left your stall, you were immediately pulled by your friends into a group huddle. “Dude, you were amazing out there. God I can’t wait until the big day comes,” Kai exclaimed, slinging her arm around yours as you watched Angie grab your costume out of your arms and placed it in your opened locker. “Agreed, the chemistry between you and Kun are just-,” Gwen gave a chef’s kiss with her fingers at the end of her sentence as she walked beside her.
You smiled, laughing lightly. “Thanks! Damn, I wish I was one of the audience. It’s been a while since I actually watched a play and not act in it,” you hummed, slinging your free arm around Ren’s shoulders. “Oh my god, I remembered seeing you in the audience two years ago. Look at you now, acting on stage with Qian Kun!” your friend exclaimed, putting her free arm in the air to emphasize her words.
“More like ‘being the reason why Kun is taking anger management classes’,” Angie snickered, earning a pout from you as you huffed at her. “As he should,” you joked, shaking your head profusely before they began to speak up again. “Are you sure you aren’t into Kun? That scene looked pretty intense and I’m 100% sure the theater hasn’t been this intense since that day you tripped over a can of paint and fell off the stage,” she added with a raise of her brow, her lips quirking up into a small grin.
You grimaced at the embarrassing memory of tripping over a few cans of pain, thus falling off of the stage and twisting your ankle. You remembered how Kun had to carry you with a disappointing shake of his head to the nurse’s office. However, thanks to your shamelessly bubbly personality, the tension in the atmosphere was cut like a knife when you patted Kun’s back with one arm and raised your uninjured leg up the air, pointing your free hand to the entrance as you yelled “onwards, donkey!”
“I remembered that! Did you really have to call Kun ‘slower than a snail who didn’t study their Math test because they overslept’? We could’ve lost another club member, you know? And what if Kun goes to jail for attempted murder? We’re all too broke to bail him out. Who am I going to ask Yangyang to sneak into their room for pictures of their elegant notes to?” Kai smacked your arm with her own, a joking frown on her lips as you let out an amused laugh. “Chill out, you’re never going to get rid of me,” you waved your hand off, rolling your eyes at your friends.
“Also, I don’t like Kun like that,” you deadpanned, sending a glare to your friend, who grinned even more. “Are you sure? The chemistry was hella spicy back on stage, and that kissing scene? Oh god, I was so close to pushing both of your heads together so you can actually kiss!” Gwen gushed, groaning as the other girls agreed with affirming nods and light laughter. “She’s not wrong,” Brooke added with a simple shrug, crossing her arms over her chest when she saw you looking at her to back you up.
You rolled your eyes. “That just means that Kun and I have superb acting skills, thank you very much!” you exclaimed with a bright smile, earning more smirks and grins from your friends as you all walked down the campus hall to head to the nearby cafe across the street. “Come on, you two looked like lovers who have actually been longing to be with each other for years!” Kai exclaimed, her tone becoming slightly whiny.
“Again, superb acting skills,” you stated with a silly grin.
“I swear, you’re so oblivious to your own feelings. Dude, no one looks at their co-star like that!” Gwen groaned, smacking you upside the head gently, causing you to let out a surprised yelp in response. “You’re making a big deal out of this, I swear to god,” you rolled your eyes at your friends, rubbing the back of your head. “As much as I hate to say it, they’re not wrong. You two were all googly-eyeing each other up there,” Ren chuckled, shaking her head at you.
You groaned once again, scratching the back of your head.
“For fucks sakes, I don’t like Kun!”
-
“Is that literature?”
You glanced up from your paper, not surprised to see your senior, Kun, sitting down on the empty chair across the table from yours. “Yeah, I was absent last week so I had to catch up on some assignments,” you nodded, tapping the highlighter against your lips as you gazed into your laptop screen filled with nothing but long paragraphs of letters and random words. “Though the professor refused to fill me in on anything and my friends who are in that same class are too busy right now to help,” you groaned, leaning your head on the highlighted literature book on your desk.
Kun chuckled, sipping his coffee before placing it on the table. “Mind if I take a look? I’ll see if I can be any help,” he asked, putting his forearms on the table as he gave you an amused smile. “Go ahead,” you waved your hand off, your voice muffled by the thick pages of your book as you let out an exasperated sigh. Kun smiled sweetly, leaning over to pull your laptop and turn it so that he could see the screen better.
“Oh, I did this one a couple weeks ago,” he hummed, scrolling down through the questions your professor had given, furrowing his brows as he read over your answers. “As a drama kid, you’re not much of a literature fan, huh?” Kun chuckled, raising his eyebrows at you as you leaned your head up, placing your chin on your book as you shrugged casually. “It’s just not my cup of tea,” you confessed truthfully, knowing full well that you have no idea what you’ve been writing for the past thirty minutes.
“When is this due, exactly?” he asked once again, scrolling down your google docs. “Saturday?” you sat up straight, groaning as you looked down at your book with a hopeless expression. Kun let out a small ‘ah’, looking down at your barely finished assignment, thinking so hard you could probably hear the gears in his head turn. “Tell you what, I think I still have my old notes. You can revise and find the answers there instead of working your ass off all night for this,” Kun suggested, giving you a tightlipped smile, sliding the laptop over to you.
Your eyes widened at his sudden statement. “Wait what? Kun, no, you’re going to need it too once the exams starts,” you frowned, shaking your head at him as you gripped the sides of your laptop to slide it over right in front of you. “It’s fine, Hendery borrowed it the other day, too. I don’t mind if you borrow it for a day or too as well,” he shook his head at you, his charming smile never leaving his face.
“Kun, no. Dude, it’s fine, really. It’s just forty numbers, I’m sure I’ll get it finished before the deadline,” you shook your head vigorously, a firm frown placed on your lips as you gazed up at your senior. “You know you want to,” Kun taunted, his teasing tone sending sparks into your chest as he leaned his cheek against his knuckles, a loopy smile spread across his face. Oh how the turns have tabled. You always found it immensely attractive whenever Kun became cocky.
His usual cranky, mature, responsible self was an admirable feature of his, you weren’t going to lie. But there was something attractive and endearing when Kun’s cocky side popped out, you couldn’t help but admit to yourself that his loopy smile was the definition of ‘hot’. Of course, you weren’t going to admit it to his face. Not today, at least.
You stared into his eyes, watching as one of his eyebrows turned upwards as he waited for you to accept his offer, his loopy smile gradually turning into a smirk as the seconds went by. At this point, you were just having a pointless staring contest. “No,” you deadpanned, huffing as you shut your laptop and carefully placing it in your bag. “I refuse to accept your help, good sir,” you gave him a cheeky grin of your own.
“Are you sure?” Kun asked, his smirk never leaving his face as he leaned back in his chair to run a hand through his slightly disheveled blonde hair, pulling his glasses off of his face. “Why are you so persistent in helping me over something so small? It’s just an assignment, Kun,” you placed your hands on your hips as you squinted your eyes at him suspiciously, pondering if he wanted something from you to get him so persistent on letting him help you.
This was not the usual Kun you knew. Usually, Kun would smack you with whatever papers he had on hand whenever you even joke about asking him for help with your assignments. And now, he was suddenly offering to let him help you? It was enough to convince you that Kun was possibly replaced by an alien. Or even worse, brainwashed by those aliens Renjun had always ranted about. Oh god, you regretted ever doubting and snoozing off during his annoying explanations.
“Who are you and what have you done with Kun?” you asked, shakily holding up your pen at him as if you were ready to strike at him at any given moment. Kun furrowed his brows, smiling softly at you as he pulled his face away from his knuckles. “Why are you acting as if I’ve been possessed by a ghost or replaced by some sort of imposter, this isn’t among us,” Kun exclaimed incredulously, biting his lips to keep himself from laughing.
You pulled your bag closer towards you, tightening your grip on the pretty yellow gel pen in your hand. “How do I know if you’re actually Kun and not some kind of alien? Last time I checked, you nearly banished Yangyang from your dorm when he asked you for help on his homework,” you furrowed your brows at him, waving your pen in circular motions as Kun balled one of his hands up into a fist, pressing it into his mouth.
“Yangyang and Hendery had to perform a whole ass satanic ritual to get you to help them with their studies, it only makes sense for me to be suspicious if you’ve been abducted and brainwashed by those aliens Renjun always talks about,” you slowly got up from your seat, pursing your lips as you began to add on to whatever evidence you have in mind to prove that Kun was probably not himself at the moment. “I’ve watched Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and The Maze Runner: Scorch Trials before, I know how this alien shit works,” you hissed.
Kun’s body began to shake as he tried his best to conceal his laughter as his eyes scrunched up into cute little moon shapes, his dimples protruding from his cheeks, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth to keep himself from doubling over laughing and disrupting the other students or teachers in the library. “And then? Go on, I’m listening,” Kun managed to gasp out as he took his glasses off to rub the space in between his eyes as he laughed silently.
You couldn’t help but grin, watching as Kun patiently waited for you to go on despite the fact that he was probably on the brink of laughing himself to death. You then pouted, crossing your arms over your chest as you turned your head away from the older boy, tapping your feet against the carpeted floor. “You’re really being suspicious, you know,” you grumbled under your breath as Kun let out another wheeze of laughter.
“Alright fine, how about this? You do something for me in return if I give you my notes,” Kun asked, a wide smile stretched across his face as he leaned over against the table, raising a brow at you as he placed his glasses back on. You lit up at this, turning your head at him in curiosity. “Yeah sure, name your price. As long as it’s not anything weird,” you nodded, earning another laugh from Kun at your sudden change of reaction.
“Alright in exchange for my literature notes, you let me treat you out a day before the big day of our spectacular performance. I heard there was a carnival near the park, we could just meet up there,” Kun raised his brow, letting out a small hum as he looked at you with a glint of hope in his eyes. Your eyes widened at his sudden proposal, uncrossing your arms from your chest you leaned your head to the side in confusion. “Like, just the two of us?” you asked rather hesitantly, feeling your heartbeat increase slightly.
Kun chuckled once again, nervously scratching the back of his head in an attempt to hide how flustered he felt at that moment as he stood up, grabbing his cup of coffee with him with one hand and snucking the other inside his pocket. “Why not?” he shrugged casually, a shy smile stretched across his face as he spoke, looking up at you with a soft expression on his face. Oh how fast your heart was racing at that exact moment.
You bit your lip, looking down at your shoes for a brief moment before gulping slightly. “Is Qian Kun asking me out on a date?” you teased, a cheeky grin forming on your lips despite the fact that your heart was practically ramming against your ribcage. Kun let out another chuckle, his soft smile sending a swarm of butterflies fluttering around and about in your tummy.
“You can think of it whatever you like.”
You smiled at his words, giggling lightly.
“Well, better be prepared to be penniless after the charity event ends then, Kun.”
Yeah, you definitely take back what you said about not liking Kun.
-
“Y/n! Truth or dare!”
“Excuse me?” you cocked your head to the side, dropping your bag at the side of the stage as you walked up to your group of club members who were all huddled up into a huge circle. “We’re playing truth or dare, join us, won’t you?” Ren asked, grabbing your hand and pulling you to sit on the empty spot next to her and Shotaro. “Truth or dare? What are we? Elementary schoolers? I’m definitely in,” you chuckled, scooting over as you rubbed your hands together sinisterly.
Brooke laughed, shaking her head at you. “I love how we’re just here playing truth or dare while the fossils are over there doing business,” she snickered loudly, looking over the only three responsible members of the club. More infamously known as ‘The Fossils’ which consists of one of the oldest members of the club, aka, Gwen, Doyoung and Kun. Pushing aside the fact that Gwen is only in her second year of college.
“We can hear you!” Gwen exclaimed from a mile away, furrowing her brows as she flipped through the schedules of the events with the other two seniors. “We know!” Brooke yelled back, a cheeky grin spread across her face as you let out a light giggle. “Okay, so, who’s next?” Haechan asked, spinning the empty wine bottle in the middle of the group circle. “Wait where did you guys even find an empty wine bottle? Isn’t heavy alcohol not allowed on campu-”
“Shotaro, hush! It’s stopping!” you gently pushed the younger boy’s face away with a palm to the side of his face to hush him as you all watched in anticipation as the bottle slowly came to a stop, the empty tip pointing at Renjun, who groaned in annoyance as the others cheered for joy. “Oh fuck,” Renjun cursed, a frustrated smile stretched across his face as you rubbed your two hands together.
“Dare,” Renjun chuckled.
“I got a good one!” you exclaimed raising your hand, receiving mischievous grins from your friends as Renjun’s smile turned into an abrupt frown. “I dare you,” you looked around, spotting a small empty plastic doritos bag and placing it in the boy’s hands with a cheeky grin. “To throw this out of the window to aim it at the security guard,” you grinned, your eyes glimmering with mischief as you laughed sinisterly.
“What did the security ever do to you to make you dare someone else to litter from the third floor?” Haechan asked, laughing along as you all watched the colour fade away from Renjun’s face. “He scolded me for accidentally dropping my juice box to the ground,” you rolled your eyes, patting Renjun’s back and pushing him to get up on his feet. “I swear my juice box didn’t even touch the ground and the old man had to go ham on me,” you grumbled under your breath as Renjun got up to his feet with the plastic bag in his hand.
Renjun looked back at you, placing his hands on his hips. “You’re making me a victim of your revenge here,” he deadpan, furrowing his brows as you handed him the finger. “It’s a dare, Huang,” you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively. “Either that or you put that maid dress costume we bought earlier on with cat ears for the next hour,” you placed your hands on your hips. “Renjun, put the maid dress on,” his girlfriend barked, pulling out her phone and opening the camera app, eliciting laughs around you as you all watched her serious expression in contrast to Renjun’s terrified one.
“I rather not embarrass myself publicly like this, thank you very much,” Renjun shook his head, glaring at everyone who was hoping for him to choose the maid dress instead of knocking on death’s door. “Well? Off to it, we don’t have all day,” you grinned, waving your hand at the boy as if to shoo him away from you. “I swear, I’m going to pull an uno reverse on you someday,” Renjun grumbled as he opened one of the windows of the theater room, peeking down to spot the unsuspecting security guard along with the other innocent bystanders.
You all cheered unceremoniously as you watched Renjun ball up the plastic bag and throw it down to the security guard before quickly shutting the window close so as to not get caught by said grumpy security guard. “Great, who’s next?” you exclaimed with an enthusiastic clap of your hand, ignoring the death glare Renjun was sending you from across the room as he walked back to the circle. “Oh god, I hope we get someone good,” Kai mumbled under her breath as she spun the bottle.
You all waited in anticipation, sucking on your bottom lip as the bottle slowly comes to a stop, the tip pointing right at you. ”Shit,” you exclaimed with a sarcastic smile, looking around your friend group who gave you all evil glares as if to say they were finally going to have revenge for all the stupid dares you made them do the past two years you’ve been here considering the bottle rarely goes to you.
“Truth or dare?” Brooke asked with a sinister smile, rubbing her hands together as they all scooted closer to look at you in anticipation. Watching as you gave your friends a tight lipped smile, gulping inaudibly as you nervously blurted out a small “truth?” almost questioningly.
“Do you have a crush?”
“Hah?”
You furrowed your brows, confused. “What are we? Middle schoolers?” you raised your brow, scratching the back of your head. “Just answer the stupid question, y/n,” Kai deadpanned, her sinister smile never leaving her face as you continued to stare at your friends with a confused expression. ‘Well this isn’t as bad as I thought,’ you thought to yourself with a small shrug. “Yes, I do,” you admitted shamelessly as if it was an everyday question, giving them an innocent smile.
“Who?” Shotaro asked, squinting his eyes at you. You raised your brow, crossing your arms firmly as you giggled. “One question per truth, suck it,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at your friends. Someone else spun the bottle quickly, causing it to stop right in front of you, causing your jaw to drop, eliciting a round of applause and laughter from your friends. “Okay, now spill, who?” Brooke repeated Shotaro’s question, tapping her nail against the wooden floor in anticipation.
“But I haven’t chosen whether I wanted truth or dare, yet,” you shot back, raising your brow as your friends shared knowing looks. “Still,” they replied shortly, tight-lipped smiles stretching across their faces as you frowned abruptly. “This isn’t fair, I can’t get asked twice!” you retorted, feeling your anxiety creep up as you saw Kun’s figure discussing the events with Gwen and Doyoung at the corner of your eye, hoping to god that he wasn’t listening to any of this.
Haechan shook his head, tutting at you softly. “The bottle landed on you fair and square, therefore you have to answer the damn question,” he grinned, laughing sinisterly as you purse your lips at how you’re literally cornered by your friends right now. “Fine, I’ll say who it is,” you grumbled, adjusting your sitting position on the floor. “He’s someone who hates me,” you stated, half jokingly, giggling as their reactions dimmed down only to realise that you have pulled an uno reverse card.
“What? That’s not fair, you have to say their name!” Angie exclaimed, pointing an exclamatory finger at you as you stuck your tongue out at your friends with a cheshire grin. “Suck it, you didn’t say I have to specifically say his name!” you giggled, giving them enthusiastic jazz hands. “Anyways, I’m not playing anymore to save whatever's left of my dignity,” you scooted backwards, giving them two peace signs, your wide grin never leaving your face.
“Wait, she said ‘he’. And she said that he hates her, which only leads to one suspect,” Kai explained, looking at the rest of your friends with brows furrowed with concentration. They all gasped in unison, looking at you with wide eyes before looking back at your precious club president (aka the poor unsuspecting victim slash bystander) with an equally shocked expression.
“KUN! DO YOU HATE Y/N?” Angie shouted at the top of her lungs, cupping her mouth to attract the three Fossil’s attention.
“What?” Kun shouted back, turning around with his brows furrowed, papers in his hands as he used the heel of his palm to push his glasses up to his head. Oh how you felt your heart dropping to your stomach. The fact that you had found out you had developed a small crush on your lovely senior merely less than three days ago wasn’t helping the fact that he looked immensely attractive in his attire.
With his glasses pushed up to the top of his head, causing the bangs in front of his forehead to mess around a bit. His platinum blonde hair was a little bit messy and disheveled, probably the result of his hands running through them too much in distress. Considering Kun had a morning class today he was wearing a baggy white t-shirt over his tall, built figure. The sleeves were short and wide enough to reveal his muscular forearms. His black ripped jeans giving him that edgy, sort of ulzzang boyfriend look that you would see on pinterest.
“DO. YOU. HATE. Y/N?” Angie repeated.
“Stop yelling, you’re going to make us all deaf!” Gwen shouted back.
“Do I hate Y/n?” Kun repeated, pointing a finger at himself before looking at you, his adorably confused expression sending butterflies in your stomach. When the hell did he have that big of an effect on you? You swallowed down your nerves and used your superb acting skills to shoot him a loopy wide smile, giving him a sarcastic thumbs up, earning a soft smile from your lovely senior.
He chuckled briefly, putting the back of his hands on his hips. “Yeah, I do!” He teased, his cute dimples appearing on his cheeks as he grinned cockily at you, causing you to frown abruptly. “It’s scientifically proven by Qian Kun, our lord and saviour himself!” Kai exclaimed, raising her arms up in the air as if she had just received an invitation to the Grammy awards. “Y/n, you like Kun?!” Angie gasped dramatically, shaking Lin’s shoulders aggressively as if she had just found a priceless artifact.
You laughed, trying to conceal how flustered you felt knowing full well that Kun was joking considering what happened approximately three days ago at the library. You know damn well that he was definitely lying. “You all have a huge misunderstanding,” you exclaimed, standing up to your feet as you jogged on over to stand beside Kun, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling his head towards you as if you were putting him in a headlock.
“You can’t see it but he is in love with me!” you joked, giggling lightly as Kun began to start smacking the papers he was holding against your back gently as a sign to let him go. “Get your filthy hands off me,” he joked, his body shaking as he laughed. “You aren’t the draco malfoy you think you are, Kun,” you grinned, looking down at the guy whose neck was stuck in between your right elbow.
“This is harassment, I should sue,” Kun laughed as you released him from your grasp, smacking his papers gently on your head.
“See, guys? Kun is infatuated and lovesick.”
Oh how you didn’t know how true your words are.
-
Today wasn’t one of Kun’s greatest days.
He didn’t know why he was so upset that day but it was one of the rare times when he would wake up on the wrong side of the bed. The fact that the moment he got out of his room only to see Yangyang’s stuff all over the couch angered him even more, despite the fact that the younger was probably already off to class. Kun had an afternoon class that day as his professor had postponed the classes due to personal reasons, which left him to go to the theater room early to practice his lines before the other club members arrived.
He wasn’t in the mood to take anyone’s bull crap today and the fact that the event is coming up in a week wasn’t helping his terrible mood. All he wanted was to crawl back to bed and sleep until his emotions weren't bubbling up inside of him, waiting to burst. Though, thankfully for him and everyone else, the club members were able to tell that Kun wasn’t in a very happy mood at that moment.
So they were pretty cool with Kun using whatever patience he has left and replying with short one worded answers unless needed. Funnily enough, today is the last day of rehearsals so Doyoung decided that you should all just retouch the props and backgrounds with paint and mod podge to be sure that the paints don’t chip off if something happens during the big day. Though, unfortunately for you, you were too high on serotonin (in other words: caffeine) to acknowledge the scary aura Kun was radiating.
“Qian Kun!” you exclaimed, jumping on him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Lovely morning we’re having, don’t you think?” you grinned, cocking your head to the side to have a better look at Kun’s face, your mood wavering in the slightest bit when your eyes came in contact with his cold, exhausted ones. “Yeah, sure. Have you done your part of the props, yet? We have to make sure everything’s good by the end of the day,” Kun asked, gently pulling your arm away from his shoulder as he tried his best to keep his temper.
You frowned slightly, putting your hands on your hips. “Of course not, I just got here,” you informed, shaking your head at him firmly. “Well then, get to it. We don’t have much time today and I really want to go home,” Kun waved you off, his tone strict as he looked down at the clipboard in his right hand, using the left to rub his eyes.
His strict tone caught you off guard. He wasn’t usually this strict to you, he sounded like your 80 year old science professor after the man lost his glasses and refused to find them because there was 20 minutes of class left. Those aren’t really good memories to reminisce at that moment. But nonetheless, Kun wasn’t in a good mood and you didn’t know if you should keep cracking jokes or shut up.
“Kun’s being unusually not himself today,” you commented under your breath as you walked over to Renjun and Angie, who were repainting the tree barks for the play while you were carrying a can of paint for them. “He’s been like that since he came here, man’s probably having a shitty day, don’t bother him,” Renjun shrugged casually, dipping his paintbrush into the paint can you had set on the floor beside you along with the other cans of paints, earning an hum of agreement from his girlfriend.
“I agree. Kun rarely gets this pissed off and from what I’ve heard from past club members, an angry Kun isn’t a good thing,” Angie added with a nod, pointing her wet paintbrush at you with a suspicious glint in her eyes. “So try not to anger him, most of us are trying our best to just get shit done and go home, too,” she told you, her tone slow as if she was gently telling off a small, stubborn, bratty five year old who’s prone to mess things up with every step they take.
In this case, you were that five year old.
“What if he just needs some cheering up, though?” you asked, sitting down on one of the crates filled with props, careful as to not accidentally knock over the paint cans around you. “He might be in a terrible mood but maybe he needs some cheering up or something,” you mumbled, drawing patterns on the wooden crate with your finger as your eyes glanced from the wood to Kun’s distressed figure. Leaning your chin on your palm as you watched Kun walk around with an emotionless expression on his face.
Renjun clicked his tongue, bending down to open another can of paint to add more details to the leaves. “Y/n, no. Please don’t, just help us with the props. Angie’s almost done with colouring each individual wooden bush, you should help and actually do something,” Renjun shook his head firmly, narrowing his eyes at you as you gave him a frown, looking down idly at the can of paints surrounding you as Angie carefully dipped her paintbrush in one of the paints, her tongue stuck out at the corner of her lips as her shaky hand carefully added more details to the wooden board.
Before you could open your mouth, you heard the senior in question call out your name with a heavy sigh following after it. “Y/n, get down from there before you break something. Help the others with the prop won’t you?” Kun sighed heavily, furrowing his brows as he placed the hand that was holding his clipboard to his hip and raised the other to pinch the bridge of his nose as he felt his blood boil in annoyance. “Relax Kun, I’m simply observing,” you grinned, giving him an enthusiastic wave which only happens to make his frown deepen.
“Observing isn’t going to get anything done around here, why can’t you help out for once other than laze around?” Kun glared daggers into your skull, but alas, you didn’t appear to be as fazed as you were on the inside. “Who took a shit in your cornflakes today, Qian Kun?” you asked, crossing your arms across your shoulders as you grinned gingerly at him, earning a soft groan of annoyance from the older boy.
He took a deep breath as if to keep his composure and hold himself back from doing anything he’s going to regret. But alas, was murdering you on the spot really that big of a crime if all you’ve been doing the past hour was chat around and push his buttons by simply breathing?
“Y/n, I don’t have the patience to deal with your shenanigans today. Just get off the damn crate box and help out for once,” Kun was beginning to grow restless. He didn’t know why he was getting so worked up over your daily nonsensical antics, he didn’t know why seeing your pretty smile was making his patience run out like sand in a tiny hourglass. The way you responded with a quick “nope!” with an eager shake your head wasn’t helping him tame the flaming fury inside of him.
“Y/n, I swear to God. You’re so ludicrous and infuriating, I don’t even know why we haven’t kicked you out yet,” he hissed, his eyes darkening as he felt his mind grow numb, oblivious as to how your bright smile had faltered at the anger lacing in his voice. “Hey, you don’t need to be so mean!” you exclaimed, furrowing your brows as Kun’s eyes shot up to look at you. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Kun said sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.
“I think I have the right to express my frustrations if all you’re going to do is mope around. It’s literally the last day of rehearsals, you should be taking things seriously,” he laughed in disbelief, running a hand through his hair.
You opened your mouth to say something before closing it when you realised you had run out of comebacks considering Kun was ‘kind of’ right in a way. But you believed that you should all have a good break before the actual performance considering you’ve been practicing so hard for the past few weeks. You all deserve a good rest and you were sure you were going to get it if it weren’t for the fact that Kun was currently in a shitty mood and none of you were brave enough to ask for one.
“Just get down from there and help Angie paint before my brain explodes into smithereens,” Kun sighed once again, furrowing his brows as he waved his hand off. You huffed, mumbling small curses under your breath as you blindly hopped off of the crate you were sitting on before your feet accidentally knocked over a few cans filled to the brim with paint, causing them to spill to the wooden floor. “Shit,” your eyes widened as you quickly bent down to pick the cans up, earning a few frustrated calls of your name from your club members.
“Shit, I’m so so sorry I wasn’t looking!” you stammered as you saw Renjun hopping off his stool to look at the mess you had accidentally made. “I’ll get the mop, we can still wipe it off before the paint fully dries,” Renjun exclaimed, running his hands through his hair in distress. “I’ll come with you,” his girlfriend patted his shoulder with a heavy sigh. “Y/n, what the hell?” Kun exclaimed, walking up to you as his eyes grew wide, fury glossing over his pupils as you fumbled with your bag to find the wet tissues as your friends ran off to the nearby janitor’s closet.
You pulled out a box of wet wipes as you knelt down, trying to wipe off as much as you could as you looked up at Kun in a panic. “I didn’t mean to knock it over, I swear! It was an accident, I didn’t-” you were cut off with a frustrated groan from Kun, watching as he rubbed his face with his palms as if he finally had enough of your nonsense. “Shut up, just shut up, y/n. Oh my god, see this wouldn’t have happened if you just fucking listened to me!” Kun scolded, the anger in his tone holding no mercy as everyone stood still in the room in awkward silence.
Your jaw dropped in surprise, needles slowly piercing your heart as you watched Kun’s face get even angrier as the seconds went by and at this point you ran out of tissues to wipe the paint off. “Kun, I said I was sorry. It’s not like I purposely kicked the paints, I was just getting off the crate like you told me to,” you shot back defensively, careful as to not grip the tissues in your hand as they were dripping everywhere on the floor.
Kun rolled his eyes, a deep frown on his face as his expression darkened at your words. “I told you to get off of the crates, not walk around like a drunk blind bat. Did you get hit in the head or something? I swear I still don’t understand why we haven’t kicked you out of the club. You’re lazy, reckless, clumsy, you never help around. All you do is cause trouble for everyone, you’re late all the time that you need me to babysit you 24/7,” Kun began ranting, oblivious to how every word was like a dagger shooting through your heart.
“It’s so annoying and sometimes I just wished I never asked you to join this damn club if all you’re going to do is pile up more work onto not just me but the other members of the club. We were suppose to finish early if it weren’t for your clumsy ass fucking up once again!”
It was pretty rare to see Kun curse. And when he did, it’s usually a sign that you have gone too far or you’ve pushed his limits. You’ve never seen Kun this angry at you before in your two years of knowing him, you’ve never seen him this livid even if you pushed his buttons way more than you should. But the way he looked at you was the one that hurt the most. The way he laughed sarcastically in disbelief as he continued to rant on and on how he’s so close to kicking you out of the club.
The way his expression was telling you to leave his sight for good. The way his dark eyes held nothing but hatred and anger.
It hurt you.
His cold angered stare did nothing but pierce your heart as you blinked back the tears that started to gather in your eyes. A lump began to gather in your throat, begging for you to let it out as your eyes burned. You looked down sadly to avoid Kun’s angered eyes, gripping the half dried tissues as the paint stained your hand and dripped down in between your fingers and back to the floor.
“Look, Kun, I’m sorry okay. Just let me clean it up I swear I-”
“Why did you even join this club if all you’re going to do is burden me and the other members?” Kun snapped.
“Kun, that’s enough,” Doyoung spoke up upon entering the theater room with a bucket filled with water in hand, putting the bucket down in front of you before placing a hand on Kun’s shoulder to stop him from saying anything else. “Y/n, calm down. It’s not a big deal, you didn’t even spill that much, you can just go home for today,” Doyoung gave you a comforting smile, reaching over to pat your head as you took in a deep exhale to keep your tears in as you felt eyes boring into the back of your skull.
“What? No, she needs to clean this up and face the consequences of her clumsiness,” Kun’s eyes went wide at his older friend, shaking his head as you bit your lip to keep yourself together. “It’s no big deal, Doyoung. Really, I’ll just clean it up myself,” you shook your head, leaning down to lift the bucket up towards you. “No, you two can go home early. Kun, you’re clearly in a terrible mood so I suggest you just go home and take some rest. Y/n, it’s okay, I’ll clean up. I haven’t been doing much these days anyway,” Doyoung shook his head profusely, grabbing the bucket from your hands.
“Doyoung, you can’t just-”
“Doyoung, it’s fine I can-”
“Just go home before I dump paint on the both of you,” Doyoung hissed, shaking his head at both of your stubbornness. ‘They really are perfect for each other,’ he thought to himself as Kun clicked his tongue in frustration, walking back stage to grab his stuff to cool off. You stood there in silence, you didn’t know what to say and honestly you were scared that if you were to take one more step, you would fuck something up again and make Kun get even more angrier at you.
Doyoung chuckled, shaking his head at you as he walked over and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Hey,” he spoke up, attracting your attention. “Go home already. Don’t take Kun’s words to heart, you know very well he didn’t mean them. He’s just having a bad day, he’ll be back to his nice self tomorrow,” Doyoung gave you an encouraging smile, causing you to muster up whatever strength you had left in you to smile back at him. You gave him a small nod, despite the fact that you weren’t so convinced.
“Thanks, Doyoung.”
-
You were an idiot. It was no surprise to anyone.
After three days of no interaction with Kun whatsoever, you still decided to go to your little hangout? Date? Friend date? (You don’t even know anymore.) That you both had arranged two weeks ago at the library. You remembered the excitement you had suppressed all week at the thought of finally going out on a date with Kun but that was before the fight that happened at the theater club three days ago. Could you even call it a fight if you were the one who was apologizing and Kun was the one uncharacteristically yelling at you?
You didn’t know anymore.
You were also hoping to patch things up with Kun when this date finally came up considering you couldn’t find him anywhere on campus. Hell, you even had to ask Yangyang for Kun’s whereabouts which wasn’t much help considering all he told you was ‘he comes and goes like the wind’ but you were desperate to talk it out and apologize to your senior.
Was this the effect your crush on him had? Usually you would just wait it out until things get better between the two of you but you knew that this wasn’t a minor fight. You actually pissed Kun off to his limits and you knew you had to apologize if you wanted him to continue to like you. That is if he actually does like you and wasn’t flirting and messing with you in the library for laughs and payback for all the mischief you had caused during your two years of knowing each other.
However, to your dismay, you had been waiting at the park right across the carnival for three hours. And you were getting quite chilly (curse your past self for wanting to look good and had decided to wear you newest short sleeved shirt) and the wound in your heart was slowly opening up again the longer you waited. You’ve sent around five to seven texts by now and you were starting to wonder if he was just busy or if he was purposely ignoring you.
Y/n: Yuh Kunners 16:49
Y/n: are you coming anytime soon?? Remember we were gonna hang out today right????? 16:50
One missed call from y/n
Y/n: I’m waiting in the park like we planned. Are you on the way lol 17:10
Y/n: kun im getting cold lmfao get over here before i turn into a living ice cube 17:37
Two missed calls from y/n
Y/n: dude i spent an hour choosing my clothes pls come ive been waiting for hours 18:49
Y/n: kun???? Cmon i know u were mad but u cant just stand me up here lmfao :,} 19:00
Two missed calls from y/n
Y/n: i guess ur not coming, huh 19:45
You sighed heavily, feeling your eyes burn as you watch people coming in and out of the carnival, gripping tightly onto the saddle of your bag as you begin to walk to the exit of the park. You pressed the back of your hand to one of your eyes when you realised you couldn’t hold back a tear, blinking rapidly when you started to feel them begging to leak out of your eyes like a broken tap. But you knew you couldn’t just cry like a loser in public just because someone stood you up.
Your thoughts begin to wander as you make your way down the sidewalk and towards the bus station, feeling your heavy heart slowly sink down to the bottom of your stomach with every step you take. You could admit that you did go a little too far back at the theater room considering so many people had warned you to lay off the joking around for just one day so as to not make Kun’s temper go off the charts. You should’ve listened to them, you could admit that.
But you also knew that you didn’t deserve to be stood up like this.
And it sucked.
How could he just yell at you, storm off, proceeded to ignore you like the plague at school, then ghost your text and stand you up just like that without an apology or an explanation? Hell, he didn’t even read your texts.
“Y/n?”
You looked up from the ground with wide eyes, recognizing that melodious voice you’ve been longing to hear for the past three days. “Kun,” you mumbled almost inaudibly, your eyes widened slightly to see Qian Kun in his casual attire that could easily send your heart into a heart attack. “What are you doing here?” he asked, coughing awkwardly as he took in your whole look, feeling his breath being taken away by the mere sight of you being more dressed up than you usually are.
“Waiting for you,” you deadpanned as if it wasn’t obvious enough, feeling your tears dissipate when you finally made eye contact with the boy in front of you, whose eyes grew wide at your words. “Me?” Kun’s eyebrows were raised in surprise, confusion glossing over his facial expression as he pointed a finger to himself. “Remember we planned a carnival date two weeks ago? Or are you just still mad at me for what happened in the theater room?” you asked, giving him a sad smile.
Kun’s face turned pale at the reminder, your words hitting him like a brick when he realised he had stood you up for who knows how long considering the bus stop you two were standing on was quite the long walk from the carnival. “Oh fuck,” he blurted out when your words finally sink into him, an apologetic expression washing over him as you crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Are you that mad that you just had to stand me up?” you furrowed your brows, taking a step towards him.
“Y/n, I’m so so sorry,” he started but you cut him off to give him a piece of your mind. “Look I admit, what happened at the theater was my fault and I should’ve listened to you instead of pushing your buttons and causing trouble. But was it really that bad that you had to keep me waiting here for not two- but three hours? I know I was- I am immensely annoying and I’m truly sorry for that,” you took a deep breath to keep yourself from getting too emotional in front of him as Kun stared guiltily at you.
“That was completely on me but that doesn’t give you a valid excuse or reason to stand me up for three hours, Kun,” your gaze hardened as you stared teary eyed inot Kun’s sad ones. He gazed up at down at your hopeless figure, swallowing at what he’s about to do as he leaned towards you to grab your hands in his, giving them a tight squeeze as he lifted them up to his chest. Your eyes widened at the sudden contact, despite the fact that you’ve literally hugged him on stage before. But there was something in his actions that made it seem more intimate in a way.
“I don’t know what to do or say to make you feel better but all I can say is that I’m sorry, I'm so so sorry,” he started, running his thumbs over your knuckles.
“I swear, I know it isn’t an excuse but I’ve been so stressed the past couple of days with the play, the big assignments at the end of every semester and I recently got this internship deal and I just started today. I completely forgot about today, I’m so so sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you, and about the theater-” he swallowed down the guilt bubbling up inside of him as the memory of your hurt expression resurfaced in his mind once again. (which sort of brought him to the point of avoiding you all around campus)
“I had my phone on mute during the internship and I must’ve missed your texts. I’m assuming you sent me some because I know for a fact your impatient ass would probably bombard my phone with calls and texts,” he joked, laughing lightly when he realised now isn’t the most appropriate time to joke around considering you two were in a very tight situation. He gave you a small smile, his eyes filled with a small glint of hope as he took a step and tugged your hands so that he could enclose whatever proximity you two had left in between you.
“I’m so sorry. I know you might not forgive me but I hope you can give me a chance to make it up to you. Right here, right now. The carnival isn’t closing until midnight after all,” he suggested with a small shrug, looking down at his wrist watch before gazing back up to your eyes with a soft expression. You bit your lip, gazing down at your hands being held delicately in his, his thumb caressing your knuckles softly as you gave it a small thought.
You gave him a genuine smile, your heart lightening as you came to find that you couldn’t refuse anything when Kun was giving you a look as if you were the only thing valuable to him in the world at that moment.
“Sure, Kunt.”
“Can we just have one day without you pushing my buttons?”
“I have the right to call you day considering you’ve been an absolute Kunt this week, get over it.”
-
“Okay, ladies. I have a confession to make,” you took a deep exhale as you walked over to the food table where your friends were sitting in before the actual performance. “You like Kun?” Brooke raised her brow, opening her mouth as Ten leaned over the table to give her a spoonful of the sweet dessert he was having. Your jaw dropped when you realised she beat you to your own confession but however you weren’t backing down from an opportunity to mess around with your friends.
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Nope.”
“Yep.”
“I really really like Kun,” you confessed all of a sudden, causing Kai to choke on her ice cream at the sudden news. “That’s so sudden,” she exclaimed with a hoarse cough, leaning over to steal Hyuck’s cup of coffee as she chugged it down while patting her chest. “Cat’s out of the bag, I like Qian Kun. But are you all really surprised?” you sighed, sitting down beside Lin as you sipped on your own drink with a nonchalant shrug.
“Excuse me?” a sudden voice spoke up.
You stopped sipping loudly at the familiar voice, turning your head around slowly to come in eye contact with none other than Qian Kun himself who was in the middle of eating his fruit salad. His brows furrowed in confusion as your eyes grew wide, embarrassment creeping up your cheeks as your jaw dropped open, your thoughts messy as you try to find the words to speak. “You didn’t tell me Kun was here,” you hissed at your friends, choosing the option to act as if Kun wasn’t sitting right beside you this whole time.
“Dude you’re literally blind, he was here the whole time,” Kai deadpanned, giving you a look that completely expressed how she was fed up with your idiocy for the day. “Can I speak now?” Kun pipped up, a smirk stretched on his lips as he watched your flustered figure retaliate against your friend’s words for calling you blind despite the fact that you kind of are in a way. “Nope, nevermind!” you shook your head abruptly, standing up as you gripped your handbag and slung it over your shoulder.
“You didn’t hear me say shit! Obliviate!” you used the straw the cashier gave you as a wand, waving it in front of Kun before you ran for dear life to the one place where he can’t get in: also known as the women’s dressing room. “Oh no you’re not! You can’t just Harry Potter reference you’re way out of this confession,” you could hear the chair grinding against the tile floor, signalling that Kun had got up to follow after you as you both laughed loudly.
“Go away, Kun!”
You knew that confessing that you like Kun wasn’t that big of a deal considering you did almost cry in front of him when he stood you up a couple of days ago on your carnival date. And you were definitely more than sure that he had reciprocated your feelings considering how he was smiling nonstop (Plus the fact that the apples of his cheeks and ears were tinted pink) after you pressed a small peck on his cheek at the end of the date right as he dropped you off at the bus stop.
But it wouldn’t be fun if you continued to act as bashful as you did back at the carnival date, would it?
You and Kun let out small lighthearted giggles as you shut the door of your dressing room to his face, provoking him even more as you jokingly told him to ‘fuck off’ considering you two have about thirty minutes left until you have to get on stage. Yes, you were using this as a delightful excuse to do your make up and dress up fifteen minutes earlier than the rest of the cast considering it was quite a long play and you wanted to reread your script and calm your nerves before show time.
-
“Princess Putri, my love, my little songbird! Oh how all of these years of holding myself back, all these years of fighting and hoping to reunite with you once again and hold you in my arms,” Kun recited as you ran towards him, into his arms which were stretched open wide, waiting to wrap around you in a tight and loving embrace. With a single, meaty tear, you jumped into his arms. Letting him spin you around like the princess you were portraying as the piano music became loud and almost deafening, almost letting you believe that you were in your own world.
Going against the script, you wrapped your arms around Kun’s neck, leaning your head towards his to nuzzle his nose against yours lovingly, eliciting a laugh from said boy as he placed you back on your two feet. “Oh how I’ve been longing to feel your lips against mine,” he leaned his forehead against yours, his words going against the script as he wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. Placing his free gloved hand on your chin, his thumb caressing your lips as the camera zoomed in on your expressions.
Your raw emotions being captured on the camera as you gaze back at Kun lovingly, a loopy smile stretched across your face as you scanned his features. His blonde hair poking out of the hat he was wearing, his front bangs messy and slightly wet with sweat with the sword fighting scene he had with Haechan earlier on stage moments prior. Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest, your breathing hitched as Kun slowly leaned his head towards yours, closer than he should be as the piano music in the background began to slow down.
His eyes gazed up and down from your eyes to your lips, his tongue darting out to wet his own as his dark pupils sparkled under the theater light, the audience as silent as mice as they waited in anticipation for the long awaited kiss scene. “May I?” he whispered almost breathily, his melodious soft voice sending shivers down your spine, the microphone attached to his cheek picking up on his almost inaudible words. His eyes gazed up at yours for your consent as your lips parted into a wide grin.
You leaned forward, nodding softly with a wide smile on your face. He let out a soft chuckle, lips inching closer to yours as your free hand tugged on the tips of his hat to tease the audience by blocking the kiss scene completely from them as his lips pressed against yours. His hand that was on your chin moved up to your cheek as he leaned his head to the side slightly for a better angle, hearing the audience break out into a loud applause as you gripped onto his hat tighter to cover up the fact that the two of you were practically making out in front of a hundred people.
Your eyes shut tight as you basked into the feeling of Kun’s soft, slightly chapped lips against yours, the cherry lipstick probably making a mark on his lips as you moved yours against his in sync as Kun’s hand that was on your cheek moved to turn off your mic and his own as he refused to pull away from you. He leaned his face so that he could deepen the kiss, not caring about the lipstick you were wearing that was currently smearing and staining his lips a rosey pink.
“Holy shit, are they actually making out?” Haechan whispered aloud backstage, leaning his head forward slightly so as to not accidentally get caught by the applauding audience as Lin and Doyoung pulled on the rope to close the curtains. “Did anyone get that on camera?” Kai hissed, looking at the other club members in hopes of finding someone with their camera phone up, smiling widely when she saw Ten and Brooke holding up their phones up with big grins on their faces.
“YOU MORONS, STOP RECORDING AND CLOSE THE CURTAINS!” Doyoung exclaimed from the other side of the stage.
-
“Are we just going to ignore the fact that you two just made out in front of a couple hundred people?” Ten chuckled, replaying the video of you and Kun kissing in front of the whole campus and probably their parents, siblings and grandparents. “Plus the owner of the school and the theater majors,” Brooke added with a soft snicker as Ten pulled her close to him in a tight embrace as they and a few other club members gathered around to watch the video. “Priceless, who knew our favorite dynamic duo would end up making out in front of the whole campus?” Kai teased, wiggling her eyebrows at you.
“Shut up,” you grumbled, leaning your head down on the table to avoid the knowing smirks of your club members. “I didn’t know you were all suppose to bully me today, I would’ve brought a pan to smack you all into tomorrow if I knew this was going to happen,” you added, mumbling small curses incoherently as your friends considered to snicker at your uncharacteristically flustered and bashful state.
You remembered immediately running off from the stage once your club members started applauding and whistling at you as soon as you pulled away from the deep kiss. You and Kun both had flustered expressions stretched across your faces when you saw the smudged lipstick stains on both of your lips, panting for air as you stared wide eyed at each other. You were also sure Kun had run off to his own dressing room to save himself from any more teasing. (especially from Ten)
As soon as you locked the door to your dressing room, you couldn’t stop your heart from beating rapidly against your chest. The butterflies in your stomach swarming as if there was an earthquake, a giddy feeling bubbling up in your chest. You swore it took everything inside of you to not scream your emotions out into the bag you brought today, but you survived after drinking lots of water to calm yourself down (despite the fact that you could feel a giddy smile stretch across your lips whenever your mind wanders back to the soft makeout session you and Kun had merely moments ago.
“Hey, can we talk?” Kun’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, causing your head to shoot up from your leaning position on the table. Eyes wide as you both stared in awe at each other, feeling your hearts race when Kun coughed awkwardly to break the awkward tension settling in between the two of you. “I-” you were soon cut off by Kai, who popped out of nowhere to push you up to your feet with a mischievous grin stretched across her face.
“Of course, go ahead. Take your time, after all you are done here, right?” Kai gripped your shoulders tightly when you opened your mouth to speak, realising that for once in your life you didn’t know what to say in situations like this. “Right! Now, off you go!” She exclaimed with a soft giggle, shoving your bag in your hands before pushing you towards Kun, ignoring the death glare you were sending her as you followed Kun out of the theater room.
Kun shoved his hand in his pockets, racking through his brain to think of something to say to break the awkward tension. “So,” he started, wincing at how awkward he sounded before proceeding with his words. “Are we going to talk about what happened back there or?” Kun raised his brow at you, finally turning his head to make eye contact. You bit your lip nervously, looking down at your feet before gulping and looking back up at him.
“Not until you- you uh-,” you coughed, pointing a finger at the corner of his mouth. “You got a little- a little lipstick there, bro,” you quietly pointed out, internally cringing at how awkward you two were despite the fact that you were fine with shamelessly running away from him after confessing your crush on him with laughs and giggles in between. Kun’s eyes widened at your statement, wiping the corner of his lips with the back of his hand as he mumbled small apologies under his breath.
Kun paused when you finally told him that the lipstick was finally wiped off. “Did you just call me ‘bro’?” he deadpanned, furrowing his brows in confusion. The atmosphere slowly returning to normal upon his obvious question as your eyes widened in a panic. “I don’t know! I panicked! We’ve never had a post make out conversation before. Or a conversation that doesn’t involve you glaring daggers into my head, I swear if looks could kill,” you shot back, waving your hands around as Kun let out a light chuckle.
“So, do you like Messi?” you asked after a pregnant pause, clasping your hands behind your back with a small smile. Kun raised his brow at you, chuckling softly at your words. “Is that supposed to be a Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok Joo reference?” he asked, letting out a soft giggle when you nodded shamelessly in response, wide smiles stretching on both of your lips as you looked down at your slightly dirty shoes.
“Can we talk now?” he asked, leaning his body against the wall as you both stared at each other in silence. Except, this time the silence was no longer awkward. Hell, it was almost comforting.
“Of course, yeah. Sure,” you nodded, trying to keep your cool as Kun took a step towards you. “Well, for starters, I really enjoyed- I mean- fuck,” Kun started, scrunching his face when he realised he was stumbling over his words, rubbing his face in frustration. “What I meant to say was I really liked kissing you,” he looked down nervously, eliciting a small smile from you as you had never seen the calm and collected Qian Kun this flustered in front of you. And you couldn’t even believe the fact that you were the one who was the main reason why he was like this.
“I don’t know if you meant what you said when you said you liked me before the performance, but fuck it. I really really like you and I really do want to be more than friends or club members,” Kun chuckled, swallowing his nerves down as he fiddled with his fingers in front of you, his dimples protruding on his cheeks as he gave you a cute, toothy smile. You couldn’t help but push your own nerves back to tease him, raising your brow as you gave him a cheeky grin.
“Is Qian Kun simping for me, right now?” you teased.
Kun let out a light laugh, shaking his head at you profusely at the sight of your own light expression. “I guess I am,” he shrugged with a staggering laugh, joining you in your small fit of giggles. “Well in that case, I’m just here waiting for you to pop the question,” you placed the back of your hands on your hips, giving him an encouraging smile despite the fact that your heart was beating oh-so-loudly in your ears.
At this point his eyes had turned into small moon shapes from how wide he was smiling and his cheeks were starting to hurt. “Pop the question? What is this? A marriage proposal?” he teased, raising his brow at you suggestively. Now it was his turn to tease you.
“Shut up, you know what I mean,” you smacked his arm jokingly, giggling along with him bashfully.
He took another step towards you, leaning towards you to grab your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours tightly. Giving your hand a loving squeeze, he took a deep breath as he looked down at your intertwined hands. “May I be your boyfriend, then?” he asked, a soft, boyish smile on his face. The happy glint in his eyes never leaving him as he stared lovingly into yours, taking in your features slowly as you giggled lightly.
“Whipped Kun hitting different,” you commented, eliciting a laugh from your senior as he squeezed your hand in his gingerly once again.
“Just say yes so I can kiss you again,” he rolled his eyes at you, his soft smile never leaving his face.
You puckered your lips gingerly, answering him with your actions as you waited for him to press his lips against yours. “I’m waiting, Kun,” you said with puckered lips, giggling softly. Kun let out a light hearted laugh (which was sure to add ten years to your life span the more you listen to it) as he commented on how uncharacteristically adorable you were being at that exact moment, earning a loud complaint from you as you frowned at him. “I guess you don’t want me to say yes,” you sighed heavily, sniffing for dramatics as you raised your free hand to your eyes to let out a fake cry.
“You’re so dramatic, I’m so close to taking it back,” Kun muttered under his breath before reaching over to cup your cheek with his free hand to turn your face back to face his. Pressing his lips against yours in a soft, passionate kiss, he smiled when he heard you giggle against his lips while squeezing his hand that was intertwined against yours at your sides.
¤ tagging: @kunrengui @chiffonymark @lebrookestore @leetaeyonglover @oifelixcmerebrou @fruityutas @vera-liscious @c-sanshine @thats-a-jen-no-no @coco-riki @stayzenniesstuff @stayctday @yunntext @qianinterprises @dreamyyang @channoticedmeuwu @caratinylyfe
#NCT-WRITERS#neowritingsnet#neoturtles#neoculturecafe#nct x reader#wayv x reader#nct x you#nct dream x reader#nct 127 x reader#wayv kun x reader#kun x reader#qian kun x reader#wayv qian kun x reader#wayv fluff#kun fluff#nct kun x reader#nct qian kun x reader
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A Soulmate’s Touch (Tobin Heath x Reader)
Anonymous Request: A Tobin imagine showing the progression of being strangers on the same team to asking her out.
Two souls, parting in a past life again meet when you leave Arsenal to come to the US to join the USWNT, two souls reunite with a simple touch.
The second you step onto the bus, your eyes locked your heart skipping a beat as the Portland Thorn, and your newest teammate on the USWNT, Tobin Heath, sends you a soft smile, her brown orbs just as soft and shining slightly.
Christen’s green orbs dart from Tobin, to you and back, the woman’s lips splitting in a grin as she gives her best friend a nudge.
“She’s cute. Maybe she’s the one...” She whispers and Tobin huffs, bottom lip jutting out in a pout.
“Shut up Chrisssss...” She whines and Christen giggles.
You glance around nervously before taking an empty seat, you’d just recently been leant to the NWSL, coming from overseas where you’d played for Arsenal.
Being so new, you didn’t really know anyone on the USWNT, you were hoping, with camp, that this would change.
Unbeknownst to you, Emily Sonnett has turned to Tobin with a mischievous grin, the forward’s eyes widening as Emily moves to her feet.
Tobin sticks a foot out to block her, having the desired effect though a little more than she wanted considering Sonnett flops to the bus’s floor with a thud.
You look down at the floor the blonde groaning loudly as she grabs her head.
“I was going to introduce myself, but Tobin tried to kill me.” She whines and you grin, glancing at Tobin, the woman’s cheeks blood red.
“I did not!” She squeaks and you smirk, looking down at Sonnett, grabbing her hand and helping her to her feet.
“You did too!” She stomps her foot and you giggle, the forward’s scrunched up face adorable.
“Nice to meet you by the way.” The blonde grins and you beam.
“You too.”
Tobin huffs, flopping down in her seat.
Emily smirks as she moves to her seat.
“I got her to giggle, that’s something.”
“Shut up.”
***
Camp had been a lot more light hearted than you expected, the USWNT players always laughing with their coaches, yes, the skirmishes were serious, but still it was more fun than you thought it would be.
You flopped down on the bench, covered in sweat as you watched your teammates play, each and every one of them masters at their craft, you knew deep down that you could never compete with them.
You can’t help but smile when you spot Ashlyn Harris’s sleeve, the tattoos forming on her arm when her and her wife, Ali Krieger touched at the same time as the story goes, same for the one on Ali’s forearm.
You take a deep breath, your eyes closing.
The stories go that when you touch your soulmate for the first time, a tattoo, related to their person burns into their skin.
Yeah, as a child the thought terrified you, but meeting your soulmate would be a dream come true.
“Y/N, you ready!?” Vlatko calls out and you jump to your feet.
“Always.”
You walk across the pitch, smiling when Tobin glances your way.
“I like this one.” She smiles, her fingertips brushing your forearm and you freeze.
Tobin drops to the ground first, grabbing the back of her neck as she cries out in pain, you following her seconds later, palming your left bicep.
“What’s wrong!?” Mallory yells as her and the rest of the USWNT run towards you, your teeth gritted in pain as you stare at your bare left arm, watching as your skin turns blood red.
Christen bats Tobin’s hands away, watching with wide eyes as a vertical line burns into the back of her neck, the word Love cutting across it to form a cross.
“Oh my god, you’re soulmates.”
Tobin had gotten the better end of the deal, considering her tattoo was so small.
Yours unfortunately was massive.
“It’s alright, it’ll be over soon.” Ashlyn whispers as she drops down beside you, watching as your skin darkens.
Your soul feels as if it’s trying to tear itself out of you to get to Tobin, though seeing as it’s unable to, it burns your skin, a searing pain that you’ll never forget, a reminder that Tobin Powell Heath is your soulmate.
Tobin crawls towards you, taking your hand, brown orbs glassy as she watches the tattoo burn its way onto your skin, multiple roses dotting your upper arm, blooming over thorn covered vines.
Tobin gently cups your cheek, leaning her forehead against yours as the tattoo burns its way to your neck before spreading, the searing pain ceasing as the thorned vines trail off down your back.
Tears stream down your cheeks as you pant heavily, pain thrumming through your body as beads of sweat run down your face.
Your eyes eventually flutter open, locking with Tobin’s watery brown orbs.
“That was definitely worse than mine.” Ashlyn whispers to Ali as you stare into Tobin’s brown orbs.
You open your mouth, ready to speak your eyes darting around your soulmate’s face.
“We’re-
The word barely leaves your mouth before you fall forwards, everyone’s eyes widening as you lose consciousness.
“Well fuck, you killed your soulmate.” Sonnett scoffs, everyone turning to her with a scowl, that is until you abruptly sit up, glancing around before you turn back to Tobin.
“We’re soulmates...?” You whisper and the Portland Thorn grins, resting her forehead against yours.
“Yeah... Yeah we are.”
***
It turned out meeting your soulmate was incredibly awkward.
Awkward because an absolute stranger, who you’d just met the same day was now the woman you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with, of course, you didn’t have to, but the universe had put the two of you together for some reason.
And for god’s sake, your soulmate was THE Tobin Heath.
“This should help.”
You inhale sharply, body sagging as the cool ice from the bag meets your stinging flesh.
Tobin takes a seat beside you on the bench and you smile, the woman taking the bag of ice off her neck and placing it on your bicep.
“S-Sorry it was so big...” She mumbles, cheeks flushing and you smile as you peek at hers, the line with Love written across the back of her neck, turning it into a cross.
“I like it.” You smile, the forward turning to you with a grin.
“Chris showed me a picture... Yours...” Tobin traces the tattoo with her eyes, as much as she can considering it runs from your upper arm, to your neck before disappearing down your back.
You watch as the woman swallows hard, her cheeks darkening further.
“Yours is beautiful.”
Tobin smiles as she holds her hand out, her smile splitting into a massive grin that makes the corner of her eyes crinkle.
“I’m Tobin. Tobin Heath.”
You take her hand, the feel of her palm against yours sending a jolt through your body, one you know Tobin feels.
“I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”
***
The two of you completely agreed that jumping right into a relationship was not what you wanted, you wanted everything that came in between.
You still had to go through camp to SEE if you were even going to make it on the USWNT, but you were hopeful, you’d been giving it your all and you knew the coaches and staff had noticed.
“Are you nervous?”
You jump, turning to Tobin, the woman smiling softly.
“Incredibly.” You whisper, the forward taking a seat beside you on the hotel room’s bed.
Tobin takes a deep breath, your cheeks flushing as she places a hand on your back, right over where your tattoo had formed weeks ago.
You turn to her, eyes wide as you feel an all encompassing warmth spread through you.
She abruptly turns away, cheeks darkening as she jerks her hand away.
“S-S-Sorry...” She stammers and you smile.
“Don’t be, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
The two of you go silent for a second before Tobin sneaks a peek at you from the corner of her eye.
“They never say how awkward it is meeting your soulmate in the stories, do they?” Tobin asks and you giggle, the woman turning towards you, a massive grin nearly splitting her face in half as you laugh.
“No, no they don’t.”
***
You’d done it.
You were officially a part of the USWNT.
You couldn’t believe it at first, but when the others had made a beeline to you, you were absolutely stunned.
Tobin was of course, the happiest of all, the two of you had been growing closer and closer, you’d go so far as to say the two of you had become friends.
The woman beamed as she threw her arms around you and lifted you into the air, spinning you around excitedly when she’d got the news that you made the team.
“You look a little lost there.” You jump, glancing around, quickly realizing you’re on the field, in the middle of practice, and that you’d spaced out.
Unsurprisingly, Tobin had noticed, the woman had a habit of picking up on things you hadn’t ever even spoken to her about.
“How did you know I was spacing out?” You laugh and she snickers.
“A fly landed on you.” You roll your eyes, leaning against her.
A tingling sensation starts in your arm where the tattoo stains your skin, a feeling you know Tobin feels as well, the woman smiling as she rubs the back of her neck.
The two of you walk towards the sidelines, your skin buzzing, your cheeks flushing when you realize Tobin had linked her pinkie with yours, your cheeks flushing as you curl your pinkie around hers.
The buzzing spreads from your tattoo to the rest of your body, as if your souls are shaking with absolute glee at being together.
“Feels so nice.” Tobin mumbles, her cheeks flushed and you grin.
“It does.”
The two of you sit on the bench together, leaning against one another as your bodies hum, the two of you smiling softly, uncaring at the fact that everyone’s eyes are on you.
“What are they doing?” Kelley whispers and Ashlyn grins, turning to her wife.
“It’s a soulmate thing.”
***
The two of you rarely separated after that, touching each other in some way, your souls calling out to one another.
The feeling you got from touching was a pleasure you couldn’t describe.
It wasn’t sexual, no, it was intimate, yes, but it felt like being whole.
It felt like you just finished a jigsaw puzzle that had taken your whole life thus far to complete, the final piece slotting into place.
Tobin hums, leaning heavily against you on the bus.
“Does it make you feel sleepy?” She yawns and you grin, leaning against her, your head resting on top of hers.
“It’s just so relaxing.” You whisper, knowing if your souls could make a sound, they’d be purring, content and happy with one another.
You can feel when Tobin falls asleep, the woman leaning heavier against you and you smile, resting against her.
“Night Toby.” You whisper, your eye lids heavy as you too fall asleep.
***
“Do you uhhh...” Tobin swallows hard, glancing at Christen who nods, giving her a thumbs up as you watch Tobin with an arched brow.
“Yeah?” You chuckle and Tobin sighs.
“Do you want to ummm, share a room?” She mumbles and you grin, a bright smile that meets your eyes as you take Tobin’s hand.
“I’d love to.”
Tobin takes your bags eager, a charming smile on her face as she nods towards the elevator, you’re about to follow after her, but a hand on your wrist makes you still, its owner Christen Press, grinning.
“I hope you’re ready, she snores like a bear.” She whispers in your ear and you giggle, Tobin’s bottom lip jutted out in a pout.
“I do not.”
Kelley scoffs.
“Yeah, she does.”
Emily and Lindsey practically run towards the four of you, both grinning.
“Yeah, Tobin sounds like a chainsaw when she sleeps.”
Lindsey tilts her head back, her throat gurgling and Tobin frowns, her bottom lip jutting further out.
“Y/N, they’re picking on meeeee.” She whines and you snort.
“We’ll just have to see if they’re right.” You wink and her eyes widen, cheeks flushing.
“You’ll definitely do a lot more hearing than seeing because Tobin snores so loud it dulls the rest of your senses.” Alex, who’d joined the group giggles and Tobin pouts.
“Y/NNNNNNNNNNNNN.” She whines and you shake your head, smiling.
“Come on whiny.”
“I am not whiny.”
“Keep telling yourself that Tobes.”
***
“Let’s just order in.” Tobin yawns as she snuggles into you, her nose buried in your hair.
“We have to go do teammate things you know.” You laugh, the woman letting out a growl.
“No.” She mumbles and you snort, shaking your head.
“We have to eat.”
“We’ll be fine.”
Just then Tobin’s stomach lets out a rumble and you roll your eyes, smacking her in the stomach, the woman grunting.
“Fine. Fine. Fine. But I’ll complain the whole time.” She huffs and you roll your eyes, throwing a pillow at her, smacking her right in the face.
“Alright Bob, let’s go.”
“Only if you hold my hand.”
You grin as you move towards her, taking her hand, your bodies again thrumming with pleasure.
“Of course I will.”
***
You knew eventually you and Tobin would have to reveal to the world that you were soulmates, though neither of you were sure how.
Your teammates had been brainstorming, and eventually an idea came to the one and only Emily Sonnett.
“I GOT IT!” Emily screeches at practice one day, running to where you and Tobin are sitting side by side on the bench.
“Put your arm around Tobers.” She commands and you do, your brows furrowed.
Emily runs behind you, excitedly clapping.
“You alright?” Kelley snorts, moving to where she’s standing, a wide smile stretching across her face when she realizes what had excited the defender so much.
Soon the entire team is standing behind you, the two of you chastised for turning around to see what’s going on, while simultaneously leaning against one another, bodies thrumming pleasantly.
“Alright, don’t move.” Alex commands and you snort.
“We haven’t been.” You stick your tongue out, earning a flick to the ear.
“Shhh!” Alex giggles, the women going silent for a minute before they surround the two of you, Kelley passing you her phone.
You grin, glancing at Tobin, the forward nodding.
“I love it.” She grins, blushing when you rub the back of her neck, the two of you blind to the fact that Christen had taken a picture of the two of you staring at one another lovingly, your tattoo on full display as your fingertips brush her tattoo.
Ashlyn looks over Christen’s shoulder with a nod, Ali, and Megan nodding when they see the picture.
“Love it.”
***
You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous.
You were about to tell the world that Tobin Powell Heath was your soulmate, someone you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, which in the weeks after your tattoo’s had formed, you knew that to be sure.
She was funny, attentive, sweet, caring, talented, beautiful, stunning... There were an infinite number of adjectives you could apply to the forward.
“What do you think?” Tobin leans towards you on the bench showing you the photos, she’d edited of the two of you together.
The one with only your arm, and the back of Tobin’s neck in it, your tattoos proudly on display.
Lastly, the second picture Christen took in secret, of the two of you staring lovingly at one another, Tobin’s cheeks flushed, her brown orbs wide as your fingertips trace her tattoo.
You smile softly, staring at the photo, unaware the Tobin is staring at you, a massive grin stretching across her face.
“Y/N?”
You jump, clearing your throat.
“Sorry I was just…” You turn to look at her, her grin massive.
Tobin’s eyes flutter shut, the woman purring when your fingertips brush the tattoo on the back of her neck.
“I love it.” You whisper and she smiles softly.
“I do too.”
***
It was a week before the first game when Vlatko gave you the okay to come out as soulmates on Instagram.
Needless to say, the fans exploded, and soon you and Tobin were trending on Twitter, the fans shocked that the Portland Thorn and Arsenal player were soulmates.
Some fans were absolutely ecstatic, complementing the beautiful tattoos that had appeared on your skin, others though, were not so happy.
“Are you sure Y/N just didn’t draw it on her skin?” Ashlyn snorts and you huff, calmed by the feeling of Tobin’s hand in your own, your bodies still buzzing in pleasure.
“That’s a no considering we literally watched it literally form on your skin.” Megan makes a weird hand movement and you snort, your hand slipping behind Tobin’s neck and scraping against her inked skin.
Tobin groans softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. She turns away, clearing her throat.
“S-Sorry.”
The woman turns back to you, brown orbs wide and cheeks flushed when you continue to scratch the back of her neck, the woman literally putty beneath your fingertips.
“For what?” You grin, your tongue trapped between your teeth and she smiles, humming as she leans into your touch.
“I can’t remember.” She closes her eyes, smiling lazily and you snicker.
You’d be lying if you said you weren’t falling for the forward, her touch gentle, smile shining as much as her brown orbs.
Tobin Powell Heath was someone it was hard NOT to fall in love with, the way her eyes would soften when she smirked making your heart melt.
“You look like you’re a million miles away...” Tobin grins, her fingertips brushing your tattoo and you inhale sharply, jumping, your cheeks flushed and eyes wide.
You clear your throat.
You’d always had a thing for touching Tobin’s tattoo, but so far, Tobin hadn’t touched your own, and now that she had, you didn’t want her to stop, the feeling stimulating your every nerve ending.
Tobin bites her bottom lip, watching your reaction when her fingertips yet again brush your tattoo.
Your brows furrow, Tobin’s cheeks flushing at the foreign look on your face, a look that sends a shiver down her spine.
You smile lazily, the woman grinning.
You can’t help but pout when Tobin pulls her hand away, your bottom lip jutting out as far as it can, though you immediately suck it back in when Tobin boldly slips a hand behind your neck, dipping her fingers down into your shirt, fingertips brushing your tattoo.
“Better?” She asks and you grin.
“Better.”
***
You hadn’t expected so many fans to be representing the both of you, some wearing Tobin’s jersey while holding a sign with your pictures on them.
You turn to Tobin on the bench, the two of you wearing bright yellow vests, both covered in sweat from your time on the field.
You grin as you slip an arm around her.
“I didn’t expect fans to already be representing.” You whisper in her ear and she laughs, a grin stretching across her face, the one that makes the corner of her eyes crinkle.
“Of course, they are, they’re USWNT fans, they’re always ready, for literally anything.” She laughs and you beam, your fingers brushing against the tattoo on her neck.
“I’ll still have to win SOME of them over.” You lean against her, smiling when you see someone in the stands glaring at you.
“Well, if someone doesn’t like you, they must be crazy because you’re the kindest, sweetest, most beautiful-
Tobin stops midsentence, her cheeks blood red as she stares at the field, not wanting to see your reaction.
“Why’d you stop? I’d like to hear more about how amazing I am.” You giggle, the woman nudging you just as the final whistle blows, the USWNT again the victors.
You move to your feet to shake hands, Tobin moving to hug Christen and the others as the two of you move around field, eventually meeting up, your pinkies linking together.
“Excuse me, Y/N, Tobin? May I get a word?” A reporter asks and you glance at Tobin, the woman nodding.
You swallow hard, clearing you throat, you weren’t the type to do interviews, considering you were the quiet type, but one feel of Tobin’s fingers intertwining with yours and you smile, the familiar buzzing in your body causing you to relax.
“As per usual, you both played a FANTASTIC game, but I have to ask you about the news that surfaced a few weeks ago.” He smiles and the two of you blush, glancing down at your intertwined fingers.
“Yeah, it came as a surprise to the both of us.” You chuckle nervously and the man nods.
“Mind if I asked how it happened?”
“I brushed her arm and practice and...” Tobin motions to your tattoo before rubbing the back of her neck.
“So, does this mean you’re an item?” He teases and your cheeks flush.
“We’re taking it slow; no one ever tells you how awkward it is to meet your soulmate when you’re complete strangers...” You turn to Tobin, beaming. “We're definitely not strangers now though.”
Tobin’s cheeks flush and the reporter grins.
“Well, I’ve taken up enough of your time ladies, congrats to you both.” He nods and you both grin, nodding in return.
The man takes his leave and you both turn to one another.
“Well, that went well.” You snort and Tobin nods.
“I bet we really won the fans over.” She winks, and you give her a nudge.
“Well, I hope they vote for me.” You giggle and she rolls her eyes.
“Let’s join the others.”
***
“Wait, where are we going?” Tobin asks with a chuckle and you grin.
“I saw something when we were on the bus on the way to the stadium.” You giggle.
Tobin shakes her head, adjusting the hat on the top of her head as you drag her down the street, the woman watching you with a grin.
The Portland Thorn had fallen for you and fallen hard, the woman completely and utterly smitten.
Tobin simply let you drag her along, willing to follow you wherever you took her.
“Tobe?” You wave a hand in her face and she clears her throat, cheeks pink.
“Sorry, what did you say?” She giggles and you roll your eyes, nodding towards the building beside you.
Tobin’s brown orbs widen, lighting up as she stares at the neon sign.
“You took me to an arcade?” She whispers, bottom lip jutted out and your brows furrow.
“Are you crying?” You snort and she shakes her head.
“No... Just my...” She swipes at her eyes. “Allergies?”
You snort.
“You sound convin-
Tobin practically sprints into the arcade, your fingers intertwined as she makes a beeline for an open machine.
“Tokens!?” She whines and you giggle, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek.
“I’ll go get you some tokens.”
Tobin stands still, eyes wide as she watches you go, the woman’s hand on the cheek your lips had been on moments ago.
“Ye-Yeah, su-sure.”
***
“YEAH!” Tobin punches the air excitedly and you shake your head, watching as the forward celebrates her win before diving into another level.
You shake your head, watching your soulmate excitedly play the arcade game, her tongue trapped between her teeth.
You lean against the out of order machine next to her, watching intently at the faces she makes while gaming, the grin on her face making your heart swell.
You were absolutely in love with the forward, you never knew someone could take your heart so easily, but considering your souls were literally made for one another, it would be surprising if it WEREN’T easy.
“HELL YEAH!”
You jump at Tobin’s shout, the woman abruptly turning to you, cupping your cheeks and pulling you into a kiss.
Stars explode behind your eyes, a feeling overcoming you that you’d never felt before, your body tingling as your lips meet, your souls kissing again in two new bodies, their promise to meet again in the next life fulfilled and then some.
Your fingers scrape the back of Tobin’s neck and she lets out a raspy groan, it’s then you’re INCREDIBLY happy that the two of you are alone in a back room at the sparse arcade.
The two of you part, eyes shining as they flutter open and lock, your souls snarling in protest over the fact that you aren’t kissing.
Tobin’s lips split into a dazzling grin, her eyes nearly shut because she’s grinning so wide.
“I can’t believe you’re the one I get to spend the rest of my life with...” She whispers, leaning in to press another kiss to your lips, your souls sighing as your lips meet again.
“I’m so lucky.” She sniffles, a tear running down her cheek and you beam, swiping her tears away with the pads of your thumbs before you’re leaning back in, lips meeting in a tender, salty tasting kiss.
“I’m just as lucky to have you Tobin... If not more.”
Tobin shakes her head, playfully brushing her nose against yours.
“I don’t know about thatttttt....” She shrugs and you snicker, throwing your arms around her neck and leaning in pressing another kiss to her lips.
Your souls purr as the two of you kiss, your foreheads resting against one another.
“What do you say we head back to the hotel?” You grin. “I’m sure there’s some shitty TV movie we can cuddle up together and watch.”
Tobin bites her bottom lips, tips of her ears pink.
“Sounds perfect.”
***
Needless to say, when you get back to the hotel, the movie is forgotten, your souls again calling out to one another, longing to kiss again and again.
So that’s where you ended up, the two of you sweetly kissing in bed, giggling against one another’s lips.
The kisses are tame, your lips against hers and nothing more, the two of you rolling around in bed as you kissed, bodies thrumming in pleasure.
You eventually still, laying on top of Tobin, looking down at the Portland Thorn with a grin, eyes sparkling with adoration.
Tobin wraps her arms around you, fingertips on your tattoo as your hand slips behind her neck, your nails scrapping against the back of her neck.
“So, does that mean the arcade was our first date?” Tobin asks and you grin, turning to nuzzle into her neck.
“I mean, you did kiss me.” You whisper, squealing when Tobin rolls you over, now on top of you.
“And you kissed me back.”
You roll over again, the two of you falling off the bed, Tobin taking the brunt of the fall considering she’s beneath you.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry.” You giggle, the woman shaking her head, grimacing.
“You sound real sorry.” She snorts and you giggle, tears in your eyes.
“I mean, I’m hurt too, I had a pretty hard landing, you’re nothing but muscle.” You shamelessly flirt and she rolls her eyes, cheeks pink as she fights off a smile.
You grin, jumping off of her, moving back towards the bed, stretching.
You let out a squeak when Tobin tackles you onto the bed, peppering your cheeks with kisses.
She eventually stills, the two of you panting heavily, your eyes locked.
“I want you to be my girlfriend.” She whispers and you grin, surging in for a kiss.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
***
Emily gasps loudly at practice the next day.
“TOBIN HEATH AND Y/N Y/L/N SPOTTED KISSING WHILE ON AN ARCADE DATE!” She screams, you and Tobin staring at one another with wide eyes, cheeks blood red.
“Jesus Christ, are the paparazzi invisible?” You snort and Tobin shrugs.
“I wonder if they got my high score in the picture, was pretty lit.” She grins and you roll your eyes, snorting as you give her a playful nudge.
“Soooooooooooooooooooo...?”
You both jump, realizing Christen had basically materialized in front of you.
“How did you get over here without making any sound?” You whisper, realizing everyone is staring your way with wide eyes.
“She basically teleported over there.” Kelley whispers in awe, turning to Alex who shrugs.
“I didn’t see her move.” Emily shakes her head, turning to Lindsey. “Did you?!”
“No, she just appeared.”
“BACK TO THE ELEPHANT ON THE FIELD.” Christen yells and everyone freezes, the woman turning to you both with a grin.
“SOOOOOOOOOOO...?!” Christen says again, you and Tobin sharing a glance.
“Sooo?” Tobin asks and Christen growls.
“DO I GET TO GIVE Y/N THE SHOVEL TALK!?” She asks and the two of you share another glance, both blushing.
You swallow hard, taking a step back.
“Don’t try to run.” Megan yells. “She’ll use her inhuman speed to catch you!”
Christen grins maliciously, rubbing her hands together eagerly.
You turn on your heels and run away, Tobin’s eyes widening when Christen takes off after you.
“IT’S FUNNER FOR ME IF YOU RUN!”
Tobin shakes her head when Christen tackles you, her eyes wide.
“The shovel talk doesn’t mean you kill her!”
***
Christen gives you an apologetic smile and you chuckle.
“Sorry, got a little carried away, I’ve never gotten to give the shovel talk before.” Christen grimaces and you shake your head.
“It’s okay...” You smile. “It means a lot to me that you care about her so much, she’s lucky to have a friend like you.” You nudge her and Christen grins.
“She’s my best friend and I just want her to be happy... I just want you to treat her right.”
You nod, the forward smiling when you lean against her.
“I will. I’m made for her after all.” You wink and Christen giggles.
“Sorry for the tackle.”
You grin.
“It’s alright, good form, have you ever thought about being a linebacker?”
Tobin moves towards the bench, eyes narrowed.
“Are we playing nice? Has Chris attacked you again?” She asks and you shake your head.
“No, she hasn’t.”
Tobin nods.
“Good, can’t have my best friend killing my soulmate.” Tobin gives the woman a pointed look and Christen giggles.
“No killing, I like her too much.”
Christen moves off the bench, Tobin immediately taking the empty seat she’d left vacant, the woman kissing your cheek.
“You okay?” She asks and you nod.
“I am.”
You stare into Tobin’s eyes, your heart skipping a beat.
“I’m more than okay.”
You hear a retching noise and glare across the field at Kelley, the woman grinning.
“Stop looking at each other like that.”
“Yeah, this isn’t a Rom Com.” Emily teases and your cheeks flush.
Christen shakes her head.
“Leave the love birds alone you two.”
Christen sends you a wink before dragging the others back onto the field, leaving you and Tobin behind, the two of you blushing.
“That DEFINITELY wasn’t how I expected the shovel talk to go...” Tobin snorts, rubbing the back of her neck and you smile.
“I knew a shovel talk was coming, but not a tackle.”
Tobin’s cheeks flush when you lean against her, her tattoo buzzing, as she slips an arm around you, your own tattoo buzzing as well.
“To be honest, I’d be fine with whatever shovel talk was coming, as long as it meant I was with you.”
Tobin’s eyes widen as she turns to you, the woman smiling bashfully as her eyes lock with yours.
The forward leans in, closing the distance between you in a tender kiss, a kiss that seals the relationship between the two of you.
It’s after that kiss that the relationship between the two of you ramps up, your relationship eventually turning into an engagement, and that engagement turning into a marriage.
You never knew a call up to the USWNT would lead you to your soulmate, let along that soulmate being THE Tobin Heath, but now, lying beside her, the two of you entirely bare after the first night of your honeymoon, you knew that wherever life had taken you, you would’ve ALWAYS ended up with Tobin Heath.
Whether it be you brushing up against her or running into each other on the Portland streets, your souls would continue to meet in this time and next, because Tobin Heath was your soulmate and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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Fuck A Fan (Bakugo x Camgirl reader pt. 1)
You had gotten the idea from one of your best friends in the cam industry.
“You sure this will work?”
“Trust me boo,” he had replied, “sometimes the best motivation for a man is a little friendly competition.”
Your bestie had insisted that a fuck a fan contest would be the perfect way to get CallMeKing to finally make good on his unfulfilled promise to see you.
Putting the finishing touches on your flyer, you finally posted the announcement to all social media. You knew CMK was still lurking. So he’d definitely see it. Hopefully, this little contest would be enough to spark his interest, if this failed, you were going to scream.
Because for the first time in your cam career, a man had you chasing him.
The audacity!
To be fair, he did say that he wanted to see you too, but had to keep a low profile due to his career. He promised as soon as worked dialed down you guys would meet up.
Well that had been over a year ago, and not only had you guys not met face to face; he also didn’t seem to check in on you as much anymore.
He still tipped and re-subbed to your page. He had even cash-apped you money for Christmas and your birthday.
But aside from that, there were no more late night, sexting sessions, no more random check ins, no more nude trading.
At first, you brushed it off.
He was apparently a very successful man. Successful men were busy. They couldn’t give you every second of their time. As a successful woman, you could relate to that.
Not to mention, you were a bad bitch and bad bitches did not pine over any man.
PERIODTTT.
Buuuut...when the man in question was fine as hell with boulders for biceps, a big dick, and long money, well...you’d like to think the City Girls, Meg the Stallion, and all the other bad bitches you looked up to would understand your thirst.
“Alright, King,” you sat back in the furry, white computer chair and glared at your laptop screen. “Ball is in your court now.”
“Mr. Ground Zero, can I get a picture too?”
A precocious looking blue haired kid asked. He stared up at Katsuki with wide, hopeful eyes.
Katsuki grimaced.
“Whatever kid, c’mon.”
He leaned down, attempting to keep a safe distance from the walking germ pool, while keeping in the lens of his camera phone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Thanks a lot, Mr. Ground Zero!”
The kid giddily ran back to his group of friends.
Kirishima slung his arm around Bakugo’s shoulder, weighing down on his slightly shorter friend.
“Wow, Bakubro, looks like those public relations training classes have really been working, huh?”
“Whatever, I just don’t need anymore shitty press with kids.”
“You still have energy for happy hour with Sero and Me tonight?”
Bakugo replied with a noncommittal shrug. He scrolled absentmindedly through his phone as he and Kirishima headed towards their agencies to call it a day.
He decided to check in on (cam name’s) IG page to see how she was doing.
A pang of longing tugged at him. He missed her. A lot. Sure, she was a cam girl, and being friendly and flirty was her job, but she always brightened his days. With crime picking up steadily over the past year, Bakugo could use her presence in his life now more than ever, unfortunately, nothing in his schedule would permit it.
He was researching a new threat that had been developing in the crime world. Apparently the new mob of villains seemed to have some connections to the crime world in America, and Bakugo found himself flying back and forth to the west for meetings and to make media rounds to help put the public at ease.
His sleep schedule was completely out of whack with all the stress he was under, so any spare moment he wasn’t working, he was sleeping. Which meant no time for his virtual boo thing. Though he did try to make it known he was thinking about her with bill money.
As he flipped through her newest posts, something caught his eyes.
Fuck a fan contest? Winner gets to make content with me at secure location!
What the fuck was this shit?
Whatever it was, he was certainly going to get to the bottom of it when he got home.
CMK: Hey, (cam name) what’s this all about?
Y/N: what does it look like? Fuck a fan contest
CMK: fuck u mean? You don’t do meet ups!
Y/N: 🤷🏾♀️ first time for everything.
Anger hummed beneath Bakugo’s skin. Since when did y/n start doing meet ups? She had always told him she didn’t trust her fans as far as she could throw them.
He had encouraged her to not be forthcoming with personal information and never feel like she had to meet up with randos online for money. He would take care of anything she needed before it came to that.
So what was the meaning of this? Had he not been taking good enough care of her? Keeping her bills paid? Her nails and hair done?
Y/N: u entering or what? 👀
CMK: hell no im not entering and neither is anyone else. Now take that shit down.
Y/n: (voice note) first the fuck of all, you don’t tell me what to do. Second the fuck of all, do you know how much money is in this? You ain’t stopping my bag boo. Period! 💅🏾
He was practically seething. Who the fuck did she think she was talking to like that?
Who the fuck did she think she was saying no to?!
His dick stirred in his pants as he re-listened to the voice note of her cursing him out.
CMK: how much does it take to win?
Y/N: just whoever has the most.
CMK tipped $150,000
CMK: now take it the fuck down
Y/N: nobody else has entered yet.
CMK: nobody else up here has the money I have.
Y/N: if you’re not meeting with me, I ain’t takin it down.
CMK: god fucking dammit y/n. Tonight. 9pm. Text me the addy. I’ll have my driver pick you up.
True to his word, CMK had his driver pick you up an hour and a half before the time he had mentioned.
Your knee bounced, causing the black mini dress hugging your shapely thighs to ride up. You pulled it down absentmindedly.
You could count on one hand how many times you had been flown out by one of your fans. It certainly wasn’t a weekly occurrence for you the way it was for other models.
Fear and excitement fluttered in your stomach.
You wondered what the driver thought of you. Heading to this rich and powerful man’s house in the middle of the night.
You had tried to dress up as if you were going to be taken on a fancy date. Your hair styled, silver chandelier earrings dripping from your lobes to match the long silver necklace that dipped between your pushed up cleavage.
If the driver gave two shits, you at least hoped he thought you were going to get a nice meal before getting dicked down.
The community where CMK lived was on the outskirts of town; hidden in a forest of natural and manicured foliage. One could go literal miles between each home before they saw the next one.
You pressed your forehead against the window to take in the flora and fauna, manicured lawns, and huge mansions. So. Many. Styles. Of mansions!
“Here we are ma’am.” the driver announced.
He drove you up a looping, stone drive way that led to a very modern home that reminded you a bit of abstract art what with its odd angles, jutting sides, and square architecture.
The driver stepped out and opened your door. Once you were faced with the massive stairs and wooden doors before you, the song: Pretty Woman blared in your mind. You certainly felt that way.
Before you could knock, the door swung open revealing a pair of red eyes that were devouring your body head to toe.
“Oh my god...”
“Wasn’t expecting to hear that before I even touched you, beautiful.” He chuckled. His lips quirked into the cocky half smirk you’d grown familiar with from his interviews.
Was this real? Call me king was Ground Zero?!
“C-call me king?” You managed to stutter out pitifully.
“I would prefer to call you by your real name.” He joked. “Come in, beautiful.” He grabbed your hand gently and pulled you through the door.
You couldn’t even appreciate the high ceilings, polished wood floors, and tasteful stone wash colored furniture as you followed Ground Zero through the door.
He took leggy strides into the airy kitchen taking out a couple of glasses from a cupboard. You could only gawk.
He looked good as hell in his short sleeved denim button up shirt and ripped black jeans. His physique flexed under the well tailored clothes showing off the broad chest and bulging biceps you’d seen in the Nudes. His spiky Blonde hair looked soft and a bit damp.
“You wanna drink, beautiful?”
“I don’t accept drinks from new people in new environments.”
He looked up to shoot you a half smile. The usual mischief was missing from his red eyes, replaced with genuine affection.
“Of course you don’t. My (cam name.)”
“F/N,” you replied.
“Bout damn time you gave me a real name. Mine is Bakugo, babe.”
He strolled over with a glass of water for himself.
“So, f/n,” his ruby colored eyes darkened with a predatory gleam as he stepped right to your face. “Why don’t you have a seat? I promise the couch won’t bite.”
He brought a hand down to smack your round ass, making you jump.
“Can’t say the same for myself though.”
Licking your lips, you lowered yourself into the couch. Bakugo settled beside you so close the sides of your bodies touched. He draped an arm around your shoulder.
“I know you got a camsona and all, but damn, y/n, where’s my feisty little c/n? Huh? Lil Ms. Period!” His voice took on a lighter tone as he tried to imitate your twang.
The attempt earned him a giggle.
“Well excuse me, sir, but I wasn’t expecting the number two pro-hero in Japan to be my biggest fan.” You snapped back, playfully rolling your eyes. “Forgive me if I’m still wrapping my brain around it.”
“There’s that smart ass mouth I love so much.” He tucked your chin.
This close to him, you could feel his warm minty breath fanning against your lips. A familiar warmth was already growing between your legs.
Pulling away you asked: “Why me?”
“Hah?” His brows knit in confusion. “Fuck kinda question is that? What do you mean why you?”
“I mean, I’m a bad bitch or whatever, but I’m just...me and you’re...you.”
“Tch. You just answered your own damn question, dumb ass.” He tilted your face back towards him. You felt his other large hand roam the bare skin of your thigh and shivered.
“You’re a bad bitch. You don’t seem to forget that any other time, don’t fuckin’ forget it now, got that? Your confidence is what’s sexy about you.”
A smile tugged at your lips as heat flooded your cheeks.
“You know, when you’re not being a fuckin’ asshole, you can be pretty damn charming when you wanna be.”
“And when you’re not being a defiant little brat, you can be real fucking cute.”
A moan slipped from your glossy lips as his hand crept steadily up your thigh
“Please,” you leaned closer to him, “you love my brattiness.”
He scoffed, amused.
“I’ll show you just how much I like it.”
Without warning, Bakugo scooped you up. His large, rough hands dug into the soft flesh of your round ass as he straddled you on his lap.
Your wet, bare pussy pressed into his bulge as he stole a greedy kiss. Your gasp quickly morphed into a moan as desire burned in your core and flooded your entire body.
His tongue overtook your mouth effortlessly.
“No panties, huh, brat? I can feel you leaking through my jeans.”
“I hate panties,” you managed between kisses. “And bras.”
That little confession just inspired more arousal in Bakugo. He deposited you on the long couch and let his hot tongue snake along every sensitive bit of exposed flesh he could find. Goosebumps rose on your skin.
“Damn, beautiful,” he managed between kisses, “can’t wait to taste the rest of you.”
His bulge rubbed your aching clit deliciously.
You tugged his shirt up over his mess of blonde hair.
He grabbed the deep ‘V’ of your dress and ripped it open, drawing a gasp from you.
“Now we match.” He grinned
“You ass—“
“You’ll have a new outfit by tomorrow afternoon, now shut up.”
True to his word, Bakugo tasted every inch of you. He nibbled your ears making you shiver, licked your nipples making you hiss his name, and devoured your toes like blow pops.
Your body was trembling from sensory overload.
“God..” you moaned.
“You look like you want something, babe,” Bakugo smiled wickedly as he hovered above you. “What is it?”
“Eat me.”
#bnha headcanons#black writers#mha headcanons#bnha#my hero academia#bnha imagines#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo x reader#self insert#bnha smut#bnha scenarios#my hero fanfic#bakugo smut#boku no hero academia#Youtube
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Newest Helper
Pair: Charlie Weasley x Reader; he/him.
Summary: You find out a secret of Charlie’s even his family doesn’t know about.
Warnings: Not exactly smut, but definitely not fluff. If I forgot any, please dm me.
Note: I literally have no idea what I’m doing but here ya go.
Smut Prompts 13 and 25: “If you wanted me so badly, why didn’t you just say so?” and “Is that a tattoo?”
~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~
-
It wasn’t fair. It really just wasn’t. He got to parade around like the piece of artwork you knew him to be. Fiery red hair sticking in every direction, big hands covered in dirt and ash, shirt absolutely soaked with sweat, allowing his muscles to show even better. Honestly, a piece of work and he didn’t even notice.
Luckily for you, he also didn’t notice the bulge in your pants or how your eyes were absolutely glued to his marvelous ass. Fuck. If he looked like an actual god outside in the sweltering rays of the sun, what did he look like in the coolness of someone's bedroom. The idea had your dick twitching in your trousers.
See, you were new to the dragon reserve and were assigned to work beside Mr. Weasley to learn the proper ways to care for the scaly beasts. Since you met him and shook his hand, you couldn’t think properly around him. He was so smart and caring and passionate, but you’d give anything to see him act out, but he was your mentor. You couldn’t just waltz up to him and ask to choke on his dick. No, that’s improper, but at least you could dream.
He shifted the sleeves of his paper thin flannel higher up his arms for the fifth time in the past two minutes. He had rolled them up to escape some of the heat, but was just revealing the straining veins of his forearms. You swallowed hard and suddenly your mouth was dry. Oh, you were lucky, weren’t you? Most people didn’t get to see views like this everyday. He knelt down in front of one of the reserve's smaller, yet ungaurded nests. He was busy checking the eggs while you were busy.. Doing something else. Your eyes had locked on his thighs that looked ready to bust through the seams of his jeans at any moment. How was this man so well built?
“(Y/n)!” Suddenly, he was snapping his fingers in front of your face, just inches from your nose. You didn’t even notice when he began talking to you.
“Ah, yes sir?” You gripped the broom in your hands tighter. You were assigned with some of the smaller jobs, since this could get dangerous. Your wide eyes watched as he shook his head and grinned at you, a soft chuckle effectively stopping your heart.
“First, we’ve been over this. You don’t have to call me sir.” He licked his dry lips, his arm dragging across his forehead, whipping away sweat and leaving a smudge across his smooth skin. “Second, I was asking if you wanted to take a break after we go through the egg routine again.” He waved his hand toward the last nest that needed to be checked and took the broom from you gently. You nodded, your words dying in your throat. You walked over to the nest and knelt down in front of it, starting to go over the check verbally and not once did Mr. Weasel- Charlie need to correct you.
Once you finished, and got his approval, you dusted your hands off on your own jeans and looked over at him. He was using the broom as an armrest, one foot crossed over the other as he watched you. You tried not to be obvious with your gaze, but it still flickered between the natural bump between his legs and his lazy grin.
“Nice job, (Y/n)! You’re picking this up really fast.” He grinned down at you. His eyebrow raised when your eyes shot back down. It may have been a millisecond, but he wasn’t exactly a stick. He had a brain behind his eyes. “Ya know, we’ve been working together for almost a good month now,” his tongue peaked out from between his lips, “,if you wanted me so badly, why didn’t you just say so?” His words had you floored.
“What? Oh, no!” You locked eyes with him as you stood up quickly, brushing the dirt off your pants. You hoped the heat coming to your cheeks was anything but normal. “No, no, no! I just um- I saw a bee?” Your voice wavered as he grabbed your wrist. You didn’t even notice when he’d set the broom off to the side or when he started dragging you to the unisex, one toilet bathroom in the barn. You watched him pull his wand out of his pocket and cast a spell. You chewed on your lip, running your hands together. “Am I fired?”
Charlie tossed his head back in a deep chuckle that reinstated in the square room.
“No! Of course not.” He began stepping toward you, his fingers coming to the buttons on his flannel and slowly undoing the first two at the collar. “Just wish you’d said something sooner, love. I wouldn’t have kept things so professional.” He grinned wider as your eyes followed his long fingered through the process of undoing each button. Eventually the shirt fell from his shoulders, revealing freckle covered skin, tan lines and-
“Is that a tattoo?” You blurted out, your eyebrows shooting up to your hairline.
It was of a Romanian Longhorn, which made sense now that you thought about it. The dragon itself was strong, bulky and muscular, it represented him in the best possible way. The head rested just below the collar of where his shirt hid hit and it’s wings stretched across his shoulder and chest while it’s body curled and twisted all the way down his pec and rib. It didn’t move for the longest time, leading you to believe it was a muggle tattoo until it turned its head, basically locking eyes with you and blowing fire out of it’s mouth before scurrying down his back.
“Yes, it is. His name is Connor but we’re not here to talk about him.” He had cornered you into a wall, his hands slamming against the brick on both sides of your head, causing a squeal to echo in the room. “We’re here to take care of some business, yeah?” He pressed his body flush against yours, grinding his growing bulge against yours. When you nodded your head and your eyes dropped to his lips, he took that as permission to slam his lips into yours while your hands threaded through the messy red curls on top of his crown.
You quickly learned there was more than one tattoo on Charlie’s body and learned the names of them just as quickly.
#Charlie Weasley x male reader#charlie weasley imagine#charlie weasley#hp x male reader#hp imagine#x male reader#male reader#Ronny Writes#drabble#hp male drabble#hp drabble
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Proper Procedures for Wooing Witches
for @littoraly-art because you are amazing and I already said this, but I hope you have an awesome birthday <3
Pairing: Yennefer/Jaskier
Word Count: ~2.2k
Rating: T, some explicit language
„My darling Yennefer,“ Jaskier calls out as he swoops into his Oxenfurt apartment with a flat carton wedged under his arm. It already nicked the lavender mesh overlay of his newest doublet, but for once, he absolutely cannot be bothered by that. It’s too nice of a day. “Hello?” He kicks off his shoes.
High noon’s just gone by and Jaskier doesn’t expect Yen to be up yet – which means she will hex his ass if he wakes her. His giddiness outweighs his fears though, heart warming, as he takes in the cluttered entryway. Several pairs of shoes are strewn about, his and hers mixing on the ground. Yen’s all look like they could double as a lethal weapon and are some variation of black and white (though one pair is tinged brown from blood that crusts the bottom, he doesn’t want to know). It’s awfully domestic, a product of the temporary living situation they are in.
When Yen requested to use his rooms for a week or so, she explicitly asked for Jaskier not to be there, but, well, he is weak, he wants her, he couldn’t have stayed away if he tried. Yen’s been snippy from the moment he welcomed her with open arms and the prospect of sharing a bedroom, snippy to the point of grumpiness. That’s fair, Jaskier supposes. It’s also fair that she slips out at the most random times of day, coming back only when Jaskier’s gone to the academy for lectures or the pub for drinks with his colleagues. All fair and good. He catches her about once a day which is more than he can say for most of the year. Fair, yes. Nice, even though Yen is rarely, if at all, impressed with his affection for her. A bard can dream.
“Yenny,” he shouts again and whistles to himself as he slides through to the main room. To his surprise, she lounges at his dinner table by the window, one hand curled around a steaming mug, the other holding up one of his most beloved poetry collections (not only because he wrote several of the entries). Her hair falls in rich raven curls that cover her chest, barely concealed by the sheer black dressing gown she wears. It’s the only thing she wears, Jaskier notices, gulping heavily. Yen doesn’t look up from her reading, her lips are pursed and her tone clipped as she replies.
“For every time you call me that, bard, your balls will grow the tiniest fraction until, one day, they will explode, never to grow back.”
Jaskier considers it. Directs his attention downward. They do feel a bit strange, don’t they? But that’s only because he’s thinking about them. Right.
“I shall not be fooled,” Jaskier says, grinning. “But if you so insist, ‘beloved’ will do just as well. I brought you a gift.” Brushing past his dusty bookshelves and cluttered desk, he struts towards the table and drops the carton on it. It lands with a thud and swirls up more dust – how is it this dusty already, Jaskier could swear he cleaned the place, like, last month?
Yen licks her finger to turn the page which makes Jaskier laugh out loud. He rounds the table to glance over her shoulder, but immediately has to retch. There, catching Yen’s precise attention, is Valdo’s vomit-inducing sonnet about his first time taking a tumble with what Jaskier assumes was a professional. It has to be, no self-respecting person would bed the man free of his coin. Jaskier makes a mental note to spread another rumour about Valdo and various sexual diseases, then plucks the book from her hands and lets it drop to the table. She sighs softly under her breath and allows him to put a hand on her shoulder. Is that… does she lean into him? The tiniest bit? Oh, dear.
“That better not be a dress,” Yen says, reaching out. Her fingertips trace the edge of the carton as if she’s in deep debate on whether to pop it open. This is a game they’ve been playing excessively, him bringing her gifts, her making a show of whether to accept them or not. On the few occasions that Yen invites him for a drink or gives the acoustic properties of his lute a small magical boost, Jaskier fails to reciprocate her cool attitude. He’s too in love to feign indifference and it’s not like she would believe him either.
“If we’re using dress in terms of the precise cut it implies then no, no dress,” he replies, thumb rubbing her skin through the slippery material of the gown mostly to work through the tightness in his throat. It hurts sometimes because this farce makes him think she doesn’t want him. Hell, most things Yen does are aimed at making him think she doesn’t want him. But then there are fractions of admittance like this, like when her gravity shifts towards him or he finds her in his rooms, barely dressed, that make him think there might be more there. Jaskier simply has to practice patience.
“Julian, do I seem like a woman easily impressed with shallow gifts of clothes? In case you hadn’t noticed, I have a very particular style.”
“Oh, I noticed. Trust me, Yenny, you are very much one of a kind,” he replies, mesmerized by her fingers dancing on the cardboard. She loses no time in jabbing back.
“And yet you revert to common courting techniques? That’s pathetic and you know it.”
“Bold of you to assume I am courting you.”
“Bold of you to claim you are not. If I remember correctly, the last time Geralt was with us you got drunk off your ass and asked him for his permission to woo me. Which was sweet but not at all his place to allow. Then you continued to exert yourself into my life on every possible occasion with flowers and picnics and awful love songs. How else am I going to interpret all this?” Yen asks, craning her neck to look up at him from under dark lashes. Gods, she is gorgeous.
“Touché. But do not think I would waste the efforts of my best tailor on just anyone. This is advanced courting, dear.”
“I fail to see its distinguishing qualities.”
“The difference is that these clothes are hardly a gift and more a means to an end.” Jaskier winks which has her eyes narrow, fall back to the carton.
“You want to take me somewhere” Yen asks and, of course, she untangles his intentions immediately.
“Not just somewhere. My cousin’s forwarded me an invitation to a ball put on by some countryside nobleman or other. His work keeps him in Kerack so I’m to go in his stead. That is to say, I’d hoped you would go dancing with me.”
Yen looks up once more and Jaskier starts a little. He will never get used to the vibrance of her violet eyes, how they see through him. Once, she said it took no effort at all to pick at his thoughts, that she always feels as though he’s screaming them right at her. So, he does.
Please, he thinks, mouth twitching into a soft smile. Please, just this once. It would mean the world to me.
Yen huffs a small laugh and shakes her head, then draws the box towards her. Inside, she finds a slim-cut blouse made from the finest black cotton in the city, complete with white lace trim down the front and flaring out at the cuffs and collar. With it, Jaskier had the tailor make a white corset belt and a pair of deep black pants that have applications of the same lace. It would look precarious, almost edgy, on anyone else, but on Yen… the thought alone makes Jaskier’s chest tighten with adoration.
“Jules, this is beautiful,” Yen murmurs as her fingers trace the line of the seams on the blouse. Jaskier puts his other hand to her shoulder and holds on for dear life as his ear twitches. Was that? Did she just? Oh, how he itches to make a quip about the nickname. Because it’s funny, yes, but it also gives him palpitations. He feels like a lovesick puppy trying to befriend a wild cat. Which also means that any violation of trust can ruin what they have. It’s just so fucking precious, this whole affair, and if he were on the outside of it, he would squeal in delight and write a whole novel about it. He still might.
“I’m glad you like it. And it will look absolutely stunning on you. You will look stunning in it. Ah, not implying that you don’t usually look stunning. What I am saying is, the other attendees will be stunned.”
“You’re ridiculous… and stupid too. Are you certain you want to take me to the ball? I’m not exactly popular with the local nobility.”
“Quite the tragedy,” Jaskier says and because he feels daring, he bends down and kisses the top of her head. Then, he saunters over to the stove, pours himself a mug of tea and takes the seat next to her. “And yes, I am certain. In fact, there is nothing I’d love more. Let the people talk.”
“I don’t give a shit,” Yen says on another sigh. “Not about what they say or think or do.”
“Which is part of what makes you so damn sexy.”
Yen rolls her eyes and folds the clothes back into the carton.
“These are lovely, but I will not wear them to the dance,” Yen says. Which means she will go with him at least. It’s not enough, Jaskier is dying to see her wear what he picked out, dying to show the world that such a brilliant woman would choose to spend the evening with him. Most of all, he wants to make her happy. “Trust me on this. You have a reputation to worry about and bringing me along already risks that. Bringing me along in that can and will mess with your career.”
“Trust me, when I say that it won’t matter. I’m already famous and folk love to gossip about famous people. Probably more than they love my songs. I could imagine worse truths to be spread about me. Besides, didn’t you just say you don’t care what people think about you? Why then would you worry about what people think about me?”
"Well I never," she says, but her lips soften into a smile and her hand rises to fiddle with her pendant. Jaskier gently pries it off and brings her knuckles to his lips.
"I don't care either," he whispers. "I just want to go dancing with you."
"I'll portal to my rooms in Kaedwen and get one of my old dresses.” Her face is all smiles, but an edge has stolen into her voice which makes her sound forlorn, sad even, and her eyes flicker over to the folded clothes in the box. Jaskier’s throat tightens.
"Why are you so stubborn? It’s obvious you want to wear them. You don’t need to start giving a fuck now.”
"I'm trying to do something for you here, Julian. I don't usually go out of my way to attend stuck-up parties with peacocks such as yourself."
“Please,” Jaskier says. He still holds her hands in both of his and because he has no shame, and because this really does mean the world to him, he sinks off his chair and onto his knees before her legs. Yen’s eyes widen a fraction. “For me.”
-----
They dance. Oh, how they dance. Jaskier always considered himself a great dancer, he has music in his veins and has flirted and whirled his way through every ball room and banquet hall on the Continent, and it’s clear that Yen is no stranger to this art either. They are exuberant, relentless, they laugh and pirouette and demand their ground, much to the detriment of those with lesser skills. The lack of a dress doesn’t subtract from their flair, if anything, it allows for a broader range of motion
"The only way we could draw more eyes is if we'd brought Geralt along,” Yen giggles. Fuck. She’s so carefree it brings tears to Jaskier’s eyes.
"Gods no," he laughs. "He would ruin all the fun with his growling and brooding. If you're looking for more attention however..."
"Jules-"
Jaskier twirls her and, in that motion, catches her around the waist and dips her low, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips which are parted on a yelp. Before he can tug her up again, her hands come forward to cup his face and she presses into him, grins into the kiss.
“You’re absolutely ridiculous,” she whispers.
“Admit it,” Jaskier drawls as he brings her back upright and they fall into an easy basic waltz, closer to each other than the dance strictly necessitates. “You love me.”
“That is awfully presumptuous of you.” But she laughs, and kisses his cheek, and Jaskier thinks that maybe one day, she will. “Don’t bet on it, bard.”
#the witcher#witcher#jaskier#yennefer#yennefer of vengerberg#yennefer x jaskier#yenskier#I'll reblog with ao3 link later#ficlet#my writing#fluff
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📄 Hometown by @allwaswell16 (2k) | Not Rated
On the day Harry gets his driver’s licence, he drives through the suburbs, heartbroken that he can’t drive home to Louis.
📄 Overkill by @fivesecondsofmae (4k) | Explicit
Louis was never going to get over how fucking attractive Harry was. How glorious his big, tall, curvy body was. The feeling of Harry behind him, hot and heavy, trapped on the tube after they’d been somewhere during rush hour. His thick hands, full of pretty rings sometimes, handing Louis a cup of coffee, then getting one for himself.
Or Louis and Chubby!Harry are as close as best mates can be and clearly are in love. Time to take it to the next level.
Top!Harry smut and fluff.
📄 New Places, New Possibilities by orphan_account (12k) | Explicit
Harry has always longed for Louis from afar, never sure exactly what Louis wanted, or if they could even have what they wanted. Even though Louis would sneak into Harry’s bed every chance he could, they’d never gone further than cuddles and innocent kisses. But when the boys are finally away from home on their first visit to LA, things finally begin to change.
📄 In All Its Imperfections by @BriaMaria (15k) | Explicit
From: Louis Tomlinson
To: Undisclosed Recipients
Hello!
I’ve asked the front desk and you lovely folks are the ones who are on the same level as me in the car park. I found a to-do list today that looked somewhat important because it has lines of poetry scribbled at the bottom that seemed like they might be for a card project. The stationary has a moose in a canoe at the top of it (and he is quite adorable). Let me know if it’s yours!
Cheers!
“Oh. My. Fucking. God,” Harry whispered, his eyes darting over the sentences again willing them not to make sense. They did, they did make sense. “Oh. My. Bloody. Fucking. God.”
The next thing he knew he was on the floor, staring at the ceiling, with a very concerned Liam hovering over his head.
“What happened, mate?” Liam asked.
Harry just pointed to his computer.
Liam bent over Harry’s desk to read the email. “What? This isn’t bad. Is that your to-do list? Did you finally come up with the inside text for those cards?”
“Leeyum" he groaned. “It’s what’s on the list.”
“Oh,” Liam paused for a beat. “Is it dirty stuff?”
Harry nodded.
There was more silence. And then, “Dirty stuff with Louis?”
📄 If We Have Each Other by @pocketsunshineharry / ishiplouis (23k) | Mature
“When are you going to accept my offer to go out again? It’s been seven years and you’re still saying no to a fun night?” Niall complains.
“A night in with Mads is a fun night for me Ni, I already told you that.” Harry responds while serving a customer.
“You’re infuriating, I just want my best friend to go out with me tonight, is it too much to ask?” Niall pouts but all Harry does is chuckle and prepare the coffee machine for the double espresso the customer ordered.
“Playing the victim, are we now?” Harry is so used to Niall’s techniques. “Well, I have good news for you, Maddie is having a sleepover at one of her friends so tonight so I’m all yours.”
OR AU where Harry is a single father and a one-night stand is going to change his life forever.
📄 In Dreams by @dolce_piccante (23k) | Mature
AU. When Harry moves to a new city, his new flat come with a number of sweet, anonymous gifts and surprises that brighten his days. Could it be a friendly ghost? Another friendly presence in his new building is his tattooed neighbor, Louis, who seems determined to put a smile back on his face.
📄 Love Is on The Radio by @whatevertearsyou / perfectdagger (sincerelyste), @star_k (35k) | Explicit
“So Louis, who’s the lucky person that will not only get to see Arsenal and Manchester United facing each other, but will also possibly become your girlfriend… or boyfriend? I mean, that’s a good catch, to ask someone out like this on the radio. It will be hard to say no after this.”
“It’s, hm, his name is…” Oh boy, Harry was about to pass out, he couldn’t bear to hear what Louis would say. Susie was looking at him, worried eyes watching him from the till as she noticed that Harry had simply abandoned his cupcake duties. “Harry. Harry Styles.”
To win a pair of tickets to watch Manchester United playing, Louis may have possibly lied to Nick Grimshaw on the BBC Radio 1 Breakfast Show, asking Harry, his best friend, to be his boyfriend. Problem is - Harry has always been in love with Louis and so, this Valentine’s he’s gonna see his dreams come true, with a tiny bit of a twist, in order to watch the football team they have loved together since they were kids.
📄 That’s What I’m Here For by @taggiecb (46k) | Explicit
Louis Tomlinson is a dairy farmer on a tiny farm in eastern Canada. His wife of nearly thirty years has left him and his children are all grown up and out of the house. Louis needs help running his business but has no idea where to even start looking. Luckily for him his children know just the man for the job.
Part 1 of Grace, Too
📄 Pinkies Never Lie by @alltheselights (83k) | Explicit
“I just think if we’re both into it and neither of us is looking for something serious, why not?” Harry asks, eyes soft and voice sweet. He pauses and gives Louis a moment or two to answer.
There are countless reasons why Louis shouldn’t agree to this, but in the end, none of them really matter. This will end with Louis in pieces, but he’s been in love with Harry for four years. There was only ever one answer.
“Yeah,” Louis answers finally, hoping his voice sounds normal. “Why not?”
AU in which Louis hates his job and loves Harry, Harry just wants a distraction, everyone else wants them to get their shit together, and Louis learns the hard way that new beginnings are only possible when something ends.
Part 1 of Pinkies Never Lie
📄 Dress you up in my love by @LucyStarkid (103k) | Explicit
Harry is single, and more than anything wants to find love. Agreeing to sign up to a dating website was a bad, bad idea. Niall’s bad, bad idea. Louis is single, but has no interest in relationships. Or so he tells himself. ??Harry is a lawyer, his boss, Nick, happens to give him a bonus, which he decides to splurge on a new work wardrobe. Louis is a frustrated designer, working as a personal shopper at Selfridges. Louis happens to be working on the day a very beautiful, but out of his depth, new customer ambles into their department in need of advice. Louis might have just found the muse he never knew he was looking for.
Featuring: Sophia as Louis’ colleague, with a somewhat unhealthy obsession with his love life, whilst being oblivious when it comes to her own. Liam as the ‘IT bloke from downstairs’ with the mother of all crushes on Sophia. Niall as Harry’s sport’s writer flatmate who spends most of his time making Harry’s life as complicated as possible. Zayn as Louis’ flatmate and lifelong best friend, whose cat, Noodle/Princess/Princess Noodle loves Louis more than it loves him. And Nick as Harry’s boss and one of Louis’ regular customers: is Imelda Marcos reborn.
📄 amaryllis by @hattalove (146k) | Explicit
“Where are we?”
“Um. A little while out of London?” Niall tries, seemingly the only one willing to not be mysterious and provide Harry with information, and. Oh.
“London London? As in, the capital of England London?” he asks, just in case he’d misheard.
“No, the other London,” Louis laughs, low and biting. He comes closer finally, the moonlight just enough to reveal a sharp-cut jaw and pale skin. “Sorry, Pup.”
Nobody’s ever called Harry a “pup”. Frankly, he finds it quite insulting, but he lets it slide to try and comprehend his current crisis.
or the one where harry gets bitten by a werewolf. louis is the mysterious not-quite alpha, liam and zayn have Things going on, niall is their token human, and together, they watch a lot of TV.
📄 This Multiplicity of Powers by @helloamhere (149k) | Explicit
Maybe in another universe he isn’t different. Maybe he hadn’t been given an impossible choice. Maybe he wouldn’t have lost everything and broken everything and then fallen impossibly, irrevocably in love with the first next thing that was kind. Maybe in that universe he doesn’t feel like he’s never breathing, always pretending, teaching the kids even though they all have to learn alone, trying hard not to read the headlines, and so afraid, every day, that he won’t be a good enough teammate to the superhero he can’t live without. He knows that love isn’t supposed to feel this way, slid secret under your skin like a surgical razor, an invisible war held close over the tender vein that keeps you alive. On the other hand, Louis wonders, had he ever known how to do it any other way?
Maybe there’s a universe where he doesn’t have to keep all his secrets on the inside.
But this isn’t that universe.
//an X-Men AU.
📄 Have Faith In Me by @stylinsoncity (183k) | Mature
As the son of Anne Styles, millionaire owner of one of the world’s most luxurious fashion labels, Harry has spent his last seventeen years living in carefree extravagance. And now he’s grown tired of it, along with the pressure from his mum to follow in her footsteps and the constant care given to him by her past assistants.
When his mum’s newest assistant, Louis, moves into the guesthouse, Harry determines to be treated differently. To be treated like an adult. Except Louis is not at all what Harry was expecting…
This is a story about growing up, growing in love and having the faith to make it last.
📄 Built Memories by @fresharold (211k) | Mature
“It was a comet.
The boy saw the comet and he felt as though his life had meaning.
And when it went away, he waited his entire life for it to come back to him. It was more than just a comet because of what it brought to his life: direction, beauty, meaning.
There are many who couldn’t understand, and sometimes he walked among them. But even in his darkest hours, he knew in his heart that someday it would return to him, and his world would be whole again… And his belief in God and love and art would be re-awakened in his heart.
The boy saw the comet and suddenly his life had meaning.”
» where louis and harry after long years start over again. they’re strangers again and introduce themselves, they relearn what they already know and what they don’t know, come with new inside jokes, create new memories and give each other a second chance.
📄 Relief Next To Me by @dolce_piccante (333k) | Mature
AU. What happens when a baker and a graphic designer meet via a very specific Craigslist post? Fate, friendship, food, and maybe more.
✨You can also check my fic tags for more fics! ✨
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Post It's
Pairing: JJ Maybank x You
Summary: JJ and you both work at the hotel. Never meeting each other, you leave notes on the others locker.
Word Count: 1,787
Warning: Fluff that's its tooth rooting.
Note: Knowing that JJ works as a bus boy in the show and seeing how well he looked in episode 5, I couldn't get this idea out of my head. Tumblr was keep messing up as I was writing this so I'm going to post this and throw my phone out of my bedroom window now :) I hope you love it! :)
━━━
"DON'T EAT SOMEONE ELSE'S LUNCH!"
"Or what? ;) - JJ"
"I'll end your whole career. Side note: I found out who ate my PB & Jelly sandwich and it wasn't you so don't get any idea's now. - Y/N"
━━━
JJ bullshit his way through the hiring process. It might not be his dream job, but it was easy. He had to do something when he realized he had to grow and man up. His father didn't teach him that. His the reason.
The small tips he gets from all the older women after he gives them more attention than their husband's - they're either on 'work' call or still playing a game of golf - doesn't hurt. It's adds up quick. He normally buys more groceries for him and John B as an unspoken thank you for letting him basically live with him. Then he treats himself with new weed. He needs it after surrounded by Kooks and playing the part of a little bitch for them.
As soon as he clocks out for the day, he undo the tie harshly. That's another thing he hates about this job - the uniform. White button up long sleeves, black dress pants with black dress shoes. If it's a morning and evening shift, the finish touch is a black vest. For nights, it's a black tie. Even if he is only walking around to give people refills, asking if they're doing fine, and cleaning up afterwards, his hair must look well put together.
He is unbutton his shirt when he stops in front of his locker. He's smiling at the post it on his locker before he even reads it. He knows who it's from.
It started a month ago. Someone left a message taped on the fridge in the break room for everyone to read. He knows he didn't have to, but he wrote down a response on the piece of paper. He wasn't expecting one back. When the front and back got filled up, he started looking for the same name on a locker. He left a post it note.
He reads the newest one on his locker.
"Fun fact of the day: you're reading this. - Y/N"
He rolls his eyes. He pulls it off and opens his locker, grabbing his normal clothes to go change. He adds it to the pile with the others.
JJ decides to stop at use book store. When a co-worker asks him if he is back for extra hours, he says no. He's carrying a shopping bag.
━━━
Your morning doesn't start on a good note. Your mind wakes you up ten minutes after your alarm should've gone off. You didn't plug in the charger all the way last night, so you're phone is at 14%.
Somehow you get to work on time. You notice you forgot your nametag.
At least there's a new post it on your locker.
"Funny. Not. Look inside and thank me later ;) PS. Don't write your new comb on the back of your lock again. - JJ"
You curse at yourself underneath your breath. You start laughing when you read the title of the book he left for you.
"365 Jokes For Kids: A Joke A Day Book."
You put it in your bag and grab your clear water bottle before closing your locker to clock in.
━━━
The giant clock on the wall taunts you. Only ten more minutes until your break and you can finally eat something.
From the dinner-room area a cute blonde starts walking towards you. By his outfit, you can't help to silent pray that he isn't a boy on a vacation and just knows how to look hot as hell all dressed up. Underneath a black vest, the long white button up shows off his muscles and the sleeves are rolled up, which is just another level of attractiveness itself, and his legs look long and firm in the dress pants. It's his hair that got your attention in the first place and now you can't help to watch as he pulls it, running his fingers through it.
Checking out cute guys all day is definitely a perk for you. Sitting behind a desk all day and being first person people see as they walk in, helping them check in or out, and answering calls is not how you wanted to spend your summer.
Last month your dad pulled some strings over a game of golf to land you this job. He sounds like a robot every time he tells you that you need to work your ass off to get the money you deserve. How is this doing that?
You get out of you thoughts when the cute blonde doesn't go in front of the desk. Instead you have to spin your chair sideways. He learns over the pull-up door and does a hand gesture, telling you to come over. You do.
"Hey."
"Hi?" It comes out as a questin since you're confused as to why he is keep looking back at the dinner room. He seems like he is afraid of getting caught. "Can I help with you something?"
"Can you make an announcement? Over the speaker loud enough for all they to hear?" He looks over again and points.
"It all matters about what you want me to say."
"Say that it's hard as fuck for me to do my job when lil Satan's are running around and how great it would be if parents tell them to stop before I do. I can't get written up or life my job because of them."
You try to hide your excitement when you find out he works here. He's not wearing a nametag. You know that it's only bus boys who don't. Briefly, you wonder if he knows JJ.
"I'm sorry. I wish I could but I can't. Parents will come up and start yelling at me that I should keep my mouth shut and thoughts to myself."
He clenches his jaw and mumbles, "yeah. Right, of course."
"When I come back from my lunch, you can-uh everytime you want to lose your shit, look over here, and I'll give you a thumbs up for not killing someone. Especially the kids."
His laugh makes you wish he is JJ.
Someone comes from behind him to release you. He doesn't say anything before walking away.
But later, you lose track on how many times he looks over at you and mouths, "help me".
━━━
The next day on his day off, he gushes over the front desk girl to his friends. "She made me not want to hurt a room of kooks. I think she has superpowers or some shit."
Kiara takes a hint of his blunt. "I'm kinda jealous, not going to lie. What's her name? I need her to tell how she did it after talking to you for only a couple of minutes when I've been your friend for years."
"I don't know. She wasn't wearing a nametag and I forgot to ask." Pope slaps him on the back of the head. "You forgot or worried she wasn't Y/N?"
"Oh my god!" Sarah squeals, "What if the front desk girl is also post it girl?"
JJ chokes on the hit he was taking. "Life doesn't work like that." For me. He thinks to himself. He makes eye contact with John B. Curse him for being able to read him.
"I think it's time to ask Y/N meet up, dude."
━━━
When he walks through the front doors, he catches himself getting upset seeing someone else at the front desk. He still waves and says good morning. On the door of the back room, there's a sign.
"MANDATORY STUFF MEETING WEDNESDAY, IN THE LOBBY AT 6PM"
On the very bottom, he notices Y/N handwriting.
"Looks like we'll finally meet. ♡ - You Know Who"
He kicks the door open.
━━━
He is still thinking about the stupid little heart when a waiter calls him to come over towards the kitchen. "Can you bring this to the front desk?"
"This isn't a drive in restaurant- you know what? I shouldn't be surprised and know not to ask stupid questions." He salutes the waiter and grabs the bag.
He stops dead in his tracks.
The front desk girl is now there, talking on the phone and writing stuff down. When she feels someone looking instantly at her, she looks up. She smiles and gives a small wave.
JJ cringes at himself and tries to not trip over his own two feet. He puts down the bag, and looks at everything and anything but her as he waits for her to finish the call. When she does, he quickly states, "Someone ordered food to get pick-up."
"Ah yes, Mr. Hough. He called saying he was carving for some of the all you can eat bread rolls."
When she says the name, it's like a lightbuld goes over his head as he remembers. He doesn't listen to the rest of what she says.
Before he can ask, the phone is ringing. "I should answer." She smiles and it makes him feel a tug in the corner of his mouth. "See you at the meeting tonight?"
"Yeah. I should go back to working too."
━━━
Your eyes go wide when the cute blondie sits next to you at the same time the manager says the meeting will begin shortly.
"Hey, how are you?" You ask after a few seconds of awkward silence.
"Fine." He splits out.
"Doesn't sound like it." You cross your arms against your chest. He doesn't say anything, only rolls his eyes and takes his red snapback hat off. In the corner of your eye, you watch him pull on the loose trends.
Grabbing your bag off the ground, you open it to see what you can do to pass the time like him.
"Holy shit."
You look up at him, confused. You notice he is staring at the joke book JJ gave to you. With the way he makes eye contact with you, you can tell that he is nervous.
But why would he-
"Oh my god."
"JJ, Y/N." Both of almost get whip flash to look and listen to your manager. "Pay attention please."
━━━
You're going through all the post it's in your locker, dropping some when an arm wraps around you and your boyfriend. He kisses your cheek. "Are you ready?"
"To meet your friends? I'm kinda nervous. But you've told me so much about them that I already feel like I know them."
"Trust me, they'll say the same thing about you. Ignore the names they call you."
━━━
"You're the peanut butter to my jelly. - JJ"
"That's the cheeses thing you have ever said. Say more. - Y/N."
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Taglist: @harrysbbby @sunflowerbecca @latenitewolves @outrbank @katerosexx
#jj outer banks imagine#jj imagine#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x you#jj x y/n#jj x reader#jj x you#jj one shot
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Doctor visits (and what purpose they serve)
Rating: T
Summery: Anji, Baiken and Eri visit the doctor for a perfectly routine check-up.
Faust grows very sick of two of them, for different reasons.
AN: Finally. FUCKING FINALLY I ON GOD FINISHED IT. THE FIRST ERI PIECE I DID IN A WHILE. AND ALSO A BAIKEN ANJI FIC. HECK YEAH. also first time writing Faust let’s hope I did okay. enjoy.
ALSO. 50TH STORY ON AO3. HECK YEAH. okay here you go.
Faust was sure nothing gave him as much trouble as giving children a physical. Not because of the children themselves, of course not. They were always nervous the first time, of course, but with a light dosage of silly faces and liberal application of cheap magic tricks, they always came around.
No, the children were never the problem, their parents on the other hand…
Whether they were nervous themselves, protective, or worst of all bored, they never failed to prove to be a headache during what was supposed to be a quick and easy check-up. And that was under normal circumstances.
And, as most things tended to be for Faust, today was in no way normal.
Firstly, the child. Forgetting any of her outstanding physical traits, Faust had seen many varieties of weird shit and a horn was comparatively mundane, she was quite unlike any child he had ever met before. She flinched and quaked at every metal object in his office, as if it was meant for her. She barely spoke a word since she sat on the medical bed, only mumbling her answers when he asked her questions about her health and diet.
She had signs of malnutrition (thin limbs, underweight, slightly pale skin), but they were clearly in remission for the past few months or so. She had faint signs of every form of child abuse he had ever had to deal with in his office, but all of them muted and in recovery, slow as it was.
And then, as he went on, she started to straighten her spine and look him in the eye…hole more directly. She still shook when he brought out his stethoscope, but it seemed controlled, somehow.
About half way through, he decided he’ll give her two lollipops, an extra brave girl deserved an extra reward.
…secondly the…well, he hesitated to say parent. If only because he had no idea how the person in question would react to the title. Baiken and Anji could never find their way to him quietly, it was always a big thing. He either had to stich up a life-threatening wound while Baiken cursed at him, or untie some mess Anji had somehow gotten himself into.
And now, they bring this interesting child into his practice. The bright red eyes made some very loud klaxons blare in his head, but every other thing about her gave him pause. She was dressed comfortably, in a ruby red kimono, and was hiding from him behind Baiken’s leg. Children being nervous around a stranger was normal, and Faust would readily admit that he was very strange indeed, but something about her posture and how tightly she had gripped the fabric, not to mention the hint of bandages peaking from her sleeves, made a different set of warning sirens sound off.
Anji kneeled down and patted the girl on the head, the gesture seeming to calm her, before he looked at Faust, “Doctor!” He cheerfully greeted, “so good to see you after such a long time!” He pointed towards the young girl like he was presenting something fantastic, “You see, me and Baiken had recently added a tiny companion to our merry little band,” he graciously ignored Baiken clicking her tongue, “and well, it just hit us the other day that we don’t know anything about her medical condition!” Anji stood up dramatically and puffed himself up for something no doubt very long winded, “so you see, we came here for a very important task! We need-“
“She needs a check-up,” Baiken had gruffly surmised, putting her hand on the child’s head, “you got a free slot today or what?”
Anji visibly deflated, one could almost hear the high pitched whine of rushing helium, before he cleared his throat, “uh, yes, that.” He shuffled his feet quietly while Baiken shook her head with a wry smirk and Eri looked between them, wide eyed and confused, “so…do you?”
As it so happened, he did, so now here he was, testing the little girl’s, Eri’s, reflexes while Baiken attempted to glare a hole in the side of his head, her sword clicking in and out of her scabbard with repeated flicks of her thumb.
“Better watch that hammer Doc,” the samurai growled lowly, narrowing her eye at him, “she makes a sound of pain and you stop feeling any,” teeth grinding against each other and an extra loud click, “permanently.”
The threat itself would have usually gone ignored. Faust was used to Baiken’s almost comical mistrust of medical professionals, he long figured that whatever cost her an arm and an eye soured her on the whole business and he could hardly begrudge her a bit of grumbling in light of that.
With Eri here, the threat seemed to hold significantly more weight. Every time he pulled some new device or tool she refused to let him anywhere near the girl until he told her exactly what it was and exactly what he intended to do with it to her. He had to repeatedly stamp down his frustration with her lack of knowledge, if she hadn’t made a habit of deliberately skipping physical checks, she would know nothing in this office could hurt a fly…well, unless it fell on the fly but that would be hardly fair to blame him on.
And honestly, it would have been heartwarming, if it didn’t make this check take up much, much longer then it needed to. That being said, he made a point of making as small an impact as he could on Eri’s knees, the legs kicking up lightly in response. “Very good dear.”
He got up and walked to his papers, sitting in a chair as he started writing down his newest data while pointedly ignoring Baiken continuing to glare at his back. As well as her reaching away from her sword to rub a single, slow circle on Eri’s back. A gesture that seemed to visibly and quickly calm the girl down.
For all the wonderful, odd things Faust had seen, the one thing he never imagined he’d see is someone that Baiken actually tried to comfort. Well, aside from the times Anji had brushed death’s door in his clinic and she held his hand while he recovered. But then again, that was an exception…and then again, Anji always seemed to be an exception when Baiken was concerned.
That is, apparently, until Eri showed up.
The dancer himself was waiting outside, no doubt yammering Fanny’s ear off, and the look he gave Faust as he handed over Eri and Baiken was…odd. There was something tense in Anji as he saw them off into the room, though that was quickly hidden as Faust decided to give Anji his full attention for a moment.
He pushed those thoughts aside to return to the matter at hand. He opened one last drawer, taking out a syringe. Considering how Eri reacted to everything else he pulled out…he almost feared her reaction to this more than Baiken’s. Almost.
Taking a deep breath, bracing himself for the worst, he turned around on his chair with the syringe in one hand, the other raising up in a gesture meant to calm, “alright dear we’re almost done.” Since his head was still attached to his neck, though Eri froze on the bed, he hazarded to keep going, “all I need to do is take a small blood-“
“No!”
Things happened very quickly after that, like dominos getting blasted by a leaf blower towards a very big and red button. Eri curled almost completely inwards on herself, shivering in panic and shuffling away.
Baiken looked at her in alarm, looked at him, looked at the needle, and then she glare-fast-deathSWORD!
Shink!
Through some miracle Faust did not dare to question, he somehow managed to pull out his clipboard and place it in the path of Baiken’s strike, and further, in a display of what could only be divine slapstick, the sword was stuck in the board instead of cleaving it clean in half and going on its merry way to do the same to his bag and face.
Though by the sounds of straining wood and low growls, along with the chair he sat in making some very distressing sounds of its own, that miracle wouldn’t last for long.
“Five seconds.” The samurai hissed while her arm quaked trying to continue its trajectory, ”explain the fucking needle.”
He didn’t need to be told twice, “blood tests!” He squeaked with no regard for his dignity, “need blood for blood tests! General health! Vaccinations! Any other minor health problem that can’t be determined with a non-invasive examination!” The explanation tumbled out of his mouth in a hurried panic, a flower bloomed at the top of his head, its petals wilting, as he smiled a rictus grin under his bag. “One point five milliliters! Tops! Promise!”
A few heart-attack inducing moments passed, and then Baiken finally, mercifully, retracted her sword. “Hmph.” She huffed tonelessly, before turning her head to the still shivering form of Eri on the medical bed.
Almost instantly, all the tension in Baiken’s shoulders vanished and she sighed. His head swirled in lingering panic trying to square this Baiken with the one he was used to, finding little success.
Turning his attention to the young girl, he finally gathered enough of his wits to feel very worried. “Oh dear…” He looked between Eri and Baiken, the latter stone like as she stared at the young girl, and raised his nearly sliced clipboard in her direction, “uh, should we call Anji or-“
“I’ll handle it.”
He felt like he got slapped by a fish, which was odd since May wasn’t due for a check-up for another week, “what?”
“I said I’ll handle it.” She repeated tiredly, sheathing her sword and walking towards Eri with an oddly calm stride. As she reached the bed, she carefully and slowly lifted her hand and touched Eri’s shoulder, the young girl flinching almost violently at the contact. “Hey, kiddo,” Baiken, undeterred by the reaction, whispered gently to the young girl. “Kiddo, it’s just me.”
The sheer difference compared to what was a person trying to rip him in half not a minute ago was nearly surreal, and he had never heard Baiken talk like that to anyone. And yet here she is, slowly rubbing circles on Eri’s shoulder with her thumb until the young girl took enough control of her hiccupping sobs to look up at her.
The relief Eri showed towards Baiken was even more surreal, he should probably check if he mistook his morning aspirin for something a bit more potent. “I-“ The halting voice of Eri knocked him out of his incredulity, the girl sniffing miserably. “I-I can’t…” Something dark and stomach-churning passed her expression, “It’s…it’s just like-“
“It isn’t.” Baiken declared quietly, her voice going tight, “The doc ain’t nothing like…” Her shoulders bunch up for a moment before relaxing again, “…he ain’t nothing like him Eri.” Baiken looks at him over her shoulder, still in his chair waiting to see if getting up would be worth the effort. “He’s a bit of a kook, but he’s good at his job…everything considered.”
Faust did his dignity a favor and choose to take that as a compliment.
“…I trust him.” Faust pushed down the minor elation at hearing that, Baiken was in the middle of something and a victory dance would probably undermine it. “I wouldn’t bring you here if I didn’t Eri.” She then put her hand on Eri’s head, mussing up her ivory hair. “I promise.”
He had the slightest feeling he was intruding on something, so he elected to mess with the buttons on his jacket when Eri started to wipe her face. Part of him was happy that Baiken could find someone to be this gentle with. All that anger building up in her was a recipe for both misery and high blood pressure.
Another part of him, a part that remembered a small, motionless body on an operating table, couldn’t help but…worry. Baiken was strong enough to defend herself…but could she-?
“Doc.”
He nearly ripped a button when he fell off his chair in surprise, though he quickly caught himself and stood up to his full height, nearly hitting the ceiling light. “Ye-“ He cleared his throat mid-squawk. “Yes?”
“Get another needle,” She continued, sitting on the bed next to a now calm, but still sniffling, Eri. “Do me before you get to her.” She raised her scarred eyebrow at him. “I’m due for physical, ain’t I?”
It took him a moment to catch on, but soon he relaxed his posture and clapped his hands in realization, “as a matter of fact you are, now that I think of it!” He went back to the drawer to take out another syringe. He then sat on his chair again, backwards, and wheeled himself before his two patients. He pulled out a handkerchief for Eri out of one of his pockets before he went on cheerfully, “And a lucky thing that you are Baiken, because this affords me to explain to Eri exactly what I need to do.”
He looked at Eri, another flower, healthier than the last one, blooming on his head as he leaned slightly towards her, “would you like that Eri? I promise it’s very interesting.”
Eri stared at him for a moment, her eyes lingering on the flower, before she sniffed one last time and wiped her face, nodding quietly.
“Wonderful!” He exclaimed, taking out a cotton swab and soaking it with rubbing alcohol, “first things first, we need to clean and sterilize the area where I intend to put the needle.” He wiggled his fingers rapidly and waved his head back and forth, “there’s all sorts of creepy crawly germs on your skin, and they have no business getting into your body, so we need to make sure they aren’t anywhere near the needle.”
Eri, to his eternal relief, actually giggled a little, her lips lifting up slightly in not-quite-a-smile. She watched him rub the swab on the crook of Baiken’s elbow, “why there?”
“Excellent question my dear!” Faust praised with a raised finger, before pointing to the blue vein in the crook, “you see, this vein is in an easy to access location, and is almost flush with the skin, so there’s no danger of putting the needle through anything important.” He then took the needle and began piercing Baiken’s skin. “And now…”
Eri watched him pull back on the back of the syringe, the tube filling with blood for a moment before he took it out and placed the swab on it.
Baiken, naturally, never made a sound or even twitched during the whole process. Didn’t so much as breath in to brace for it. If Faust hadn’t just finished extracting blood, and knew Baiken well enough, he would have been very concerned. Well, more concerned about her than he usually was at any rate.
“There! Now we just tape it down to stop the bleeding,” saying so he took out a length of clear tape out of another pocket and used it to hold the cotton swab in place. “And voila!” He stood on his feet and took a dramatic bow, “all finished.”
Eri’s eyes shone with admiration, getting caught up in Faust’s performance and clapping excitedly for him. He showed his gratitude for her applause with the required grace, taking another two bows. Baiken scoffed quietly but didn’t interrupt, Faust knew her well enough not to be offended by the fact she didn’t clap.
“Alright then.” Faust said finally, sitting back down on the chair and taking out the second syringe, “now for your turn dear.” He looked at her arms, covered from wrist to armpit in bandages, freshly changed even, and made an effort to not be obvious as he braced for what he would see underneath, “if you would please?”
He tried to make the request as gentle as possible, but still Eri’s mouth pressed into a thin line, her hands freezing mid-clap before grabbing her forearms tightly. She looked at him for a long moment, before looking aside at Baiken. The samurai smirked, the expression strangely warm, and nodded briefly.
Taking a breath to steady herself, Eri began to unravel her bandages with a determined look on her face.
What Faust saw underneath them made his skin crawl and his blood boil. The cruelty was evident on every scar, but what really got stuck in his craw was the precision. Whoever made those marks on Eri had a hand as steady as a rock, not a single mark of hesitation or second guessing. Such precision was born of either practice, or innate talent, and he wasn’t sure which option made him more sick to his stomach.
(He felt more than a little hypocritical, but if there was one thing he and Bald-the good doctor agreed on, was that such marks should never appear on children.)
“Doctor?” The small voice nearly made him gag from the memories it brought up, but he managed to take back control of himself quick enough for his vision to coalesce enough to see Eri looking up at him in concern, “are you okay? You were quiet for a long time…”
He opened his mouth before he closed it, his mind drawing a blank. He looked aside at Baiken, who raised an eyebrow at him, her look half dubious and half worried herself.
“I’m fine dear.” He finally managed, waving away her worry, “I just remembered something, don’t worry about it, alright?” He waited for her to nod, before returning it more energetically, “wonderful, so, back to business.”
The swab, “it’s a bit cold and might tickle a bit, okay?”
A quick, halting nod. Followed by a quick burst of laughter.
“Pump your fist a bit dear?”
Biting her tongue, she made an adorable effort of making and opening a fist. The way she did it made it clear that she never had to fight anyone, which made the strain in his chest unclench a bit.
“Right…” The needle in his hand began moving, “brace yourself dear…”
Despite the courage she showed before, some of it crumbled in the face of the sharp point so close to her flesh. There was no uncertainty in her eyes, she knew exactly how the needle would feel.
Faust breathed through his nose and counted to five.
Almost as if by instinct, Eri buried her face in Baiken’s nearby shoulder, her free hand grabbing on to the fabric much like she did when she first showed up. But her other arm stayed where it was, she didn’t try to pull it away or hide it from the doctor, she simply did as he instructed and braced herself.
Three. He’ll give her three lollipops.
He grabbed hold of her offered arm by the wrist, and brought the needle close to her vein, “deep breath,” Eri did as he said, and the second she finished taking in air he finally sticks the needle in. The girl flinches, but only digs her face deeper into Baiken’s shoulder with a restrained whine.
He takes out one point five milliliters, Baiken’s eye welded to the tiny measurement lines, and takes the needle out. “Almost done.” With professional efficiency, he stops the bleeding with a cotton ball, before covering it with a Band-Aid.
A pink one, with a picture of a unicorn on it.
“…really doc?” Baiken is half-way to smirking, but the tone of her voice makes it look like a grimace, “what, you got a stash of those?”
“Of all the things I do, this is what draws you up short?” He asks innocently, gesturing at himself. “Besides, I thought it would be appropriate.” Baiken opened her mouth before closing it and making a yeah good point shrug, Faust then turned to his patient, “now Eri, how are you feeling?” He tapped her wrist lightly, the Band-Aid smiling up at her as she looked at it, “any pain? Itching? Discomfort?”
The girl shook her head, “N-No, I’m okay.” She takes one last, lingering look at the unicorn, her lips twitching upwards for a moment, before picking up her bandages to re-wrap her forearms with practiced ease, and then looking at the doctor with a bit of apprehension, “i-is there anything else?”
“Oh no,” The doctor waved off, standing up from his chair with a clap of his hands, “we’re all done for today, and you were very brave.” He leaned down to her eye-level, “and do you know what you get for being very brave?”
Eri looked at him doubtfully, before shaking her head.
Without a word, Faust pulled out three red, plastic covered lollipops, and handed them over to the wide-eyed girl, “a well-deserved reward, that’s what.”
“Damn straight,” Baiken agreed, patting the little girl on the back with a toothy grin, “good job kid, you’ve earned it.” Then her face did something that nearly made Faust’s eye twitch, it went stern, “just don’t eat ‘em all right way yeah? There’s gonna be dinner soon.”
Upon hearing Baiken, of all people, say something that stereotypically parental, Faust could feel his patience for the universe at large rapidly approaching its limit. He took Eri down from the bed and began ushering the two of them out of his office. “Alright, then let’s leave, we’ve kept Anji waiting for long enough.”
Eri unwrapped one of her rewards, stashing the other two in the clothing folds on her chest, and popped it into her mouth as they walked. Baiken looked down at her with an oddly soft expression that left her face as soon as they caught sight of Anji and Fanny.
The dancer was engaged in what seemed like a very exciting and very one sided conversation, the nurse smiling politely at him with all the energy of someone who has been on the rack all damn day and just wants his executioner to get a move on already. If Anji noticed, and he almost certainly did, he made a great show of not being bothered by it.
His focus shifted instantly when Eri and Baiken came close enough, Anji’s smile lighting up his face as he walked towards them, “Eri! So good to see you again!” He kneeled down to meet her gaze properly, “and I see you’ve a reward as well!” He put his hand on her head and warmly ruffled her hair, smile reaching his eyes, “good job dear.”
Faust found this sight slightly easier to stomach, Anji had always been the more emotionally open of the duo. But still, to see those two this attached to this little girl…something about it boded ill, and he wasn’t sure why.
“Shorry it took sho long…” Eri twiddled her thumbs with the lollipop still in her mouth, “it was kinda shcary…”
“Oh don’t worry about it sweetheart.” Anji waved off with a chuckle, “I had some very pleasant company to pass the time with.” He turned around to smile at Fanny, “isn’t that right, miss nurse?”
“Oh yes Mr. Mito.” Fanny nodded cheerfully while writing something on a nearby clipboard, “it was a very engaging conversation.” Anji nodded back, but as soon as he turned his head to look back at Eri, the nurse lifted the clipboard to show what she wrote, the polite smile unmoving on her face.
It read, in very fancy but firm writing: “Never leave me alone with him again. Ever.” The word “ever” was underlined. Four times. With a separate, red marker.
Faust mentally penciled tomorrow off for Fanny, she’s earned her own little “lollipop”, so to speak. “I’m happy you were patient with us Mr. Mito,” He began, before he sighed, “but I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to wait a bit longer.”
Eri simply blinked at him innocently still busy with her treat, while Baiken and Anji snapped their gazes to him in unison, like a pair of hawks on a hunt, shoulders tense and eyes sharp.
“Nothing serious!” He was quick to assure, the two relaxing only slightly, “It’s simply that Ms. Baiken reminded she is well past due her own checkup.” He turned to Baiken with a smile under his mask that was perfectly professional, “isn’t that right, miss Baiken?”
The samurai’s stare quickly morphed into something that screamed me and my big mouth before she bared her teeth and shook her head, “you know you ain’t going anywhere near me, yeah?”
“I am fully aware yes.” Faust nodded diplomatically, “but the fact remains that you do need a check-up, so I am offering a compromise,” he gestures towards his ever-loyal nurse, “I think that you will find Nurse Fanny to be entirely professional, and as a female physician she would know better what you would find uncomfortable or not.” He clears his throat. “Better than me, at any rate.”
Baiken looked at Fanny, who had jumped to attention with a slightly overeager smile on her face at being called to action, a bit dubiously, but before she could voice her misgivings, Anji jumped in with a hand on her shoulder, “excellent idea doctor!” He squeezed her shoulder with a smile that was only slightly sharp at the edges, “if we’re here and worried about our health, why not make the most of the visit?”
Baiken shoved her elbow into her partner’s stomach with a scowl, “I don’t need-“
“After all,” Anji continued smoothly, with one arm rubbing where the elbow had impacted while he smiled a bit more sharply, “since we put Eri through this rigmarole, why shouldn’t we do the same?” Anji leaned a bit more into Baiken’s space, and while the dancer while still smiling Faust was certain the samurai began to sweat a little, “all in the interest of health, of course.”
After a moment of heated glaring, Baiken visibly sagged with a sigh, “fine, whatever.” She leaned out of Anji’s grasp, the dancer letting her go easily, and turned to Fanny, “alright nurse, let’s get this over with yeah? I got other shit to-“ A tug at her kimono stopped her, and she looked down to see Eri grasping the white cloth with a worried look on her face, “…don’t worry kiddo.” She mussed Eri’s hair a bit, “I’m just making noise, I’ll be back out before-“
“Can I come with you?” Eri interjected quickly, as if saying it any slower would drain her courage, “I-I mean, I was scared at the doctor’s, s-so, I want to be there with you too.” She worried the white cloth in her hands and looked down at her feet, “y-you know, i-if you get scared.”
The idea of Baiken being afraid of something as mundane as a checkup, for all of her bluster, was just this side of ludicrous, but Faust managed to hold on to his laughter long enough for Baiken to sigh quietly again, much softer this time, turning to Fanny with a light smirk, “is it okay if I bring a guest?”
Fanny smiled warmly as she opened the door to the examination room, “of course! Little Eri won’t be a bother at all, please!” She motioned for the two to come in, “let’s get started, shall we?”
Baiken scoffed, “ya hear that kid? You’re my backup.” She smiled with her teeth at the little girl, who nodded excitedly at the gesture instead of cowering in fear as most would in response to one of Baiken’s smiles, and started following her guardian as they entered the room.
Anji spoke up, “maybe I can-“
“You stay here,” Baiken stabbed at him irritably, “your bull earned you an extra half hour of boredom, now sit.” She glared him down into the nearest plastic chair, and turned back to the room…before sparing her nurse one last doubtful look, “…you don’t still have that huge-ass needle, right?”
“Oh don’t worry miss Baiken!” Fanny reassured as she began to close the door, “I only use that for emergencies.”
The last thing of Baiken to be seen before the doors closed is her face morphing into the very picture of deep concern.
And thus, the two men were left to themselves. Anji went to a nearby chair, sat on it very slowly and deliberately, and turned to Faust with a very thin smile, “you have the look of a man with a lot on his mind, doctor.” Anji’s smile grow wider but stayed as thin as paper as he patted the pale yellow plastic chair to his left in invitation, “how about you have a seat and you can unload all of those worries to your old friend Anji, eh?”
Anji Mito was certainly very friendly, of that Faust would gladly attest, but his friend? That was stretching it a bit, “I’ll stand, Mr. Mito, thank you.” He took out the vial of blood he took from Eri out of his pocket and moved it in his palm for a moment, “and yes, I have a great number of worries to bring to your attention.”
Anji stared at him for a moment, before something in his eyes shifted and changed, the angle of his gaze sharper than it was a moment ago. Wordlessly, he motioned for Faust to begin, his smile painted on.
Faust knew subtlety would be a waste of time, so he went straight to it. “She’s a Gear.” Not a question, but simply a statement of fact. He looked down at the vial, the color in it shifting in the florescent light of his practice in ways that normal blood simply did not. “Is That Man involved in this?”
“Ha!” Anji barked out harshly, clapping his hands once, “well, aren’t we perceptive! Good catch doctor!” His smile opened up and showed a few teeth, “did the red eyes and horn give it away?”
Faust clenched his free hand but kept his calm, “answer the question Mr. Mito.”
Anji was quiet for a moment, before his smile shrunk slightly and he shook his head, “no, I’m intimately familiar with his work. Trust me, Asuka had nothing to do with this.” He laughed a little nervously, “if he did, we’d be on the run from Mr. Badguy right now.”
Faust sighed, conceding the point, “fair enough.” He moved to his desk to shuffle a few of the notes he’s made about Eri during her check-up. “What information do you have about where she came from?”
“Next to nothing.” Anji answered almost too cheerfully, “the circumstances of us meeting Eri sort of…put a damper on any effort to find out about her past.” He coughed into his palm, “it was part of the reason I brought her to you doctor.” A smile as sweet as arsenic stretched his face, “would it be too much trouble to ask you to send that blood sample to Illyria?”
Faust rubbed his forehead over his paper back with a weary sigh, “I’ll try to get it to Paradox directly.” He was beginning to understand Baiken’s short temper more and more, “…regarding those circumstances…” Anji’s smile slipped right off, “…I’m guessing she came into your company from…the person who gave her those scars?”
Anji blinked at the doctor for a moment, and then smiled again, this time a bit more honestly, “yes, those would be the broad strokes.” He laughed a bit coldly, something in his eyes far away, “I’d rather keep the bloody details to myself, if you wouldn’t mind.” He looked at Faust from the corner of his eye, tone reassuring, “purely for your own safety of course, plausible deniability and all that.”
Faust grit his teeth, but decided to let that particular battle die in favor of more pressing concerns, “how long have you been traveling with Eri?”
Anji straightened his posture and nodded briefly, “six months.”
“Ah, how taller has she grown in that time?”
“Not an inch.”
Faust nearly fell backwards from shock. Of all the things Gears were known for, rapid maturation and growth was foremost of them. Yet Eri looked no older than 7 years of age. “…stunted growth?” He muttered in disbelief, cold sweat on his brow. “In a Gear?”
“Another reason to come to you, specifically.” Anji answered plainly, his smile going flat and his gaze burning a hole in the wall in front of him. “I’m no medical expert, but something tells me those scars might have something to do with it.”
Faust gripped his table nearly hard enough to dent the metal, only barely keeping a grip on his control with a few deep breathes and a glass of water. Anji politely looking away just long enough for Faust to pull his mask up to drink.
After a moment, Faust walked towards Anji and finally took the seat he was offered next to him, sitting down heavily with his head in his hands and his knees drawn up to his ears.
Anji waited without a word, his eyes glued to the door his two girls had vanished behind, but Faust could still feel his gaze, somehow, boring a hole into him as well. Faust shook his head again and straightened up, looking down at Anji, “there was another wound, on her shoulder.” Faust stopped for a reaction, but only got a raised eyebrow, “it was fresher than the rest, what happened?”
“Why didn’t you ask Baiken?”
“It was a closed, clean wound, it was not my place to ask unprompted questions of my patients.” Faust explained tensely, “And I didn’t want to upset Eri besides,” that earned him an agreeing hum from Anji at last, “how did it happen?”
“A few opportunistic young men thought it a good way to earn a lot of money in a very short amount of time by throwing themselves at Baiken and myself,” Anji shrugged, though he stiffly looked away as he did, “…poor Eri got caught in the middle.”
“Assassins.” Faust bit out between his teeth, “Eri got caught in the middle of a fight you had with assassins.”
“She was kept safe the whole time.” Anji tossed straight back, finally meeting the doctor’s gaze again. “It ended well, like it always does, doctor.”
“You and I both know that’s a load of nonsense, Mr. Mito.” Anji’s eyebrows knitted together and his lips drew into a thin line. “Does Eri know how to defend herself?”
Anji laughed, utterly mirthless, “have you seen her? You want us to teach that girl how to fight?”
“Are you and Baiken going to change your lifestyle?” Faust forged on, his nerves on edge, flashes of a bloody surgical table and a horribly small body bag on his mind, “if not, are you simply going to continue to expose Eri to all this danger? Do you take her out on bounty hunting missions with you?” He nearly pressed his face to Anji, who simply stared at him stone faced, “that girl is completely dependent on you two, have you any concern for her safety?”
“Doctor.”
Anji Mito vanished.
In his place was a man with his face, but not his eyes. They were the same color and shape, but they suddenly threatened to swallow Faust whole with the sheer emptiness he saw there.
There was a hand on the collar of his shirt, pulling him along as the man that was not Anji Mito stood up from his chair. Not a trace of the flighty dancer remained, and in his place was the man that spent a significant period of his life hiding in shadows and whispers.
He spoke, and there was the hint of dried blood on his tongue as he did, “as you said, that girl is dependent on the two of us,” the man narrowed his cold, empty eyes, “be certain, we know that very well, knew it from the moment she came into our care.” The hand on his collar tightened its grip, “make no mistake, every effort we’ve made since then had been to ensure that she is safe, that she is happy.”
Finally, something filled those abyssal eyes, anger.
“That girl is everything we could have been, that girl has a future not yet stained with blood and secrets, eyes not yet worn and hollow, and I intend to make sure it stays that way.” He bared his teeth, and Faust felt like he was facing a dangerous animal, “so don’t you dare think for a moment that either of us would treat her callously.”
Finally, impossibly, Faust found his tongue, “you think you can protect her from everything?” He gripped the hand clenching his collar, “with the life you lead? Are you that delusional?”
“With all due respect,” the animal growled, something vicious and cruel crawling up his throat, “you are not the first person I’d ask regarding the safety of children,” his heart leapt into his throat, but the man kept going, “you are hardly the expert there, Doctor Baldhead.”
It took every inch of restraint he had, but somehow Faust kept from pulling a scalpel from his pocket to slice open the throat in front of him.
His point apparently made, the man that was not Anji Mito released Faust, and sat back down without a word to look at the door again. A few breathless moments passed as Faust looked down at him and got his breathing back under control, finally letting out a sigh, “…I will admit, my judgement is clouded from…past experiences,” he shook his head, “…but I stand by what I said, you can’t protect her forever.”
Another heavy moment passed, nearly crushing the both of them…before Anji Mito returned with a weightless laugh, “no, I suppose not.” He looked up at the doctor, a mirthless smirk on his face, “but we can protect her long enough to make a path for her to follow.”
Faust looked down at the man for a moment, shaking his head before beginning to walk to his desk, “what path would that be?” He reached his desk, and turned around to lean on it to look at Anji, “because from where I sit, there’s two.” He held up one finger, “one; she stays be your side, which means you need to teach her all she needs to know to be able to keep pace with you two.” He grits his teeth, “and all the bloody details that would include.”
Anji met Faust’s gaze evenly, but his hands gripped the cloth of his lap.
“And second,” he held up the second finger, “…is that you let her go, put her somewhere safe, where she would never need to raise a hand to harm anyone, that she would never need to protect herself again…” He stopped, something finally clicking to place, “…and never see you two again.”
On Anji Mito’s nearly inscrutable face, something like sadness passed for a brief moment. It was gone as soon as it appeared, and another paper smile took its place, “whatever path she’ll have, it will have to be her choice, wouldn’t you agree, doctor?” Another mirthless chuckle, “from what little I know of her life before we found her…she’s had enough of her life dictated for her, methinks.”
Faust sympathized with his nurse, because after that relatively short conversation with Anji Mito, he felt ready to curl into a ball and sleep the rest of the week away. He could have let that conversation end there, let himself end the day with at least a bit of sound mind, but something was eating at him, a question he knew he had no right to ask. That was utterly unprofessional of him to even consider asking.
But, then again, he’s been plenty unprofessional today, what’s a bit more?
Taking a breath to brace, he once more dunked his head into the shark tank that was Anji Mito’s headspace. “The person who gave Eri those scars…” He started, his grip on the table tightening, “…do you know anything about them?”
“Oh? Him?” Anji asked innocently, as if he hadn’t given that a thought in ages, “ah, I wouldn’t worry too much doctor.” The way he said that, and the smile it came with, only made Faust worry more, “last I saw of him, he was laying on a street somewhere, bleeding out of a hole between his eyes.”
Faust blinked at Anji, whatever tension and anger he gain from examining Eri deflating like a particularly sad whoopee cushion.
“I’d put him out of your head, doctor.” He turned to him with a smile as bright as a flickering florescent bulb, a hint of that emptiness back in his gaze, “I know I did.”
Before Faust could question-no, scratch that-call bullshit on that, the door to the examination room opened, revealing a slightly annoyed Baiken, a satisfied Fanny, and Eri still sucking on her lollipop.
“There they are!” Anji exclaimed, his cheer back on his face in full force, and Faust could even believe it was genuine this time, as he went to Baiken and Eri, “so! How did it go? Any sharp or metal things go into anywhere unpleasant?” He was rewarded with a smack upside the head from a very unamused Baiken, which only got a laugh out of him, “sorry, sorry, I couldn’t…” He stopped of a sudden, looking at Baiken’s face in confusion, and Faust took a second to see he was looking at Baiken’s mouth.
Or, more specifically, the small plastic stick hanging out of her mouth.
Anji blinked at her, “…what-?”
Baiken grabbed the stick, and pulled out a bright red lollipop.
“…how?”
“Eri gave it to me.” Baiken said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “said I earned it for being…” her mouth twitched to stop from becoming a smile, “…brave.”
Anji blinked in surprise, first at Baiken, and then at Eri, who nodded resolutely to show she was perfectly serious. After a moment, a smile slowly forming on his face, too slowly to be a conscious effort, and Anji laughed with more warmth than Faust had heard from him all day, “well! Can’t argue with that!” He bent down to look, and smile, at Eri at eye level. “Good call there Eri.”
The blinked before looking down with a bright blush. Baiken ruffled her hair while Anji grasped her shoulder.
And Faust understood the anger completely. Understood the insult of doubting these two.
But still, with a clear mind, he, as always, stood be his prognosis.
“Mr. Mito.” He called out, the man still leaning down as he turned to look at him, “I would like you to keep our conversation today in mind, alright?”
Anji, to his credit, only glared for a short second before he nodded, “of course, doctor.”
“Huh?” Eri looked between the two, “what did you talk about?”
“My own check up dear.” Anji lied smoothly as silk, “I set it a few months from now since I had one not too long ago,” he ruffled her hair again, “don’t worry about it.”
“…Okay.” Something shone in the girl’s eyes, but she went back to her treat with a quiet hum.
Anji stood up, met Baiken’s razor sharp gaze, and mouthed “later” silently before he turned to the doctor, “well! I think we’re all done for today!” He put a hand on Baiken’s shoulder to turn her towards the door, “say goodbye to the doctor Eri.”
Turning to Faust and Fanny, she waved goodbye in a way that made the doctor want to cry, before running to Baiken left side to grab her hand as they left.
Anji and Faust shared one last, slightly loaded stare before they stepped out the door.
(Faust closed his practice earlier than usual that day. Fanny didn’t question it, or the way he fingered the bottom of his paper bag, or how stiff and deep his voice had gotten near the end of the day.
She helped him take his medicine, and he went to bed, images of not-himself standing above a perfectly clean surgery table, waiting for his next, his last, patient swirling in his mind as he slept.
Baiken slapped Anji upside the head. She didn’t know why, exactly, she just had the feeling he had earned it.
Anji didn’t argue with that.
Eri offered him her last lollipop, but he refused, he hadn’t been brave for a long while. He wanted to earn it properly.)
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Ok so I don't know if your still taking requests but if you are it's daminette and marinette is over so the whole wayne family and her are chilling and they think they hear someone so they do a heartbeat scan and they count an extra one so they're searching they manor and they're on guard they alfred ask all the girls if they're pregnant and the guys are nervous because one of them could be a father so they scan all the girls and they find out mari's preggo and it's a whole chaotic ordeal
Note: Sorry this took so long, I was trying to figure out the best way to tell this story and I finally got the idea after watching TT episode Fear Itself.
Whoever’s idea was it for the family to watch a horror movie during a fucking thunderstorm, Marinette just wants to end their lives. She was having a good day despite feeling sick in the morning, so being informed that tonight’s movie was horror-based was interesting. The majority of the time, a horror movie wasn’t a bad idea, but the moment the film ended, and the lights randomly shut off, the screaming begins.
For a house filled with heroes vigilantes, they sure do know how to scream and act like they’re in a horror movie real quick. Marinette could feel the need to throw up grow as the sense of someone watching her suddenly grows. At first, she thought that it was Damian or any of his brothers, but how could that be when everyone disperses the second, they heard movements that were not from either of them. Damian was reluctant to leave Marinette to her own device, but since the manor was so large splitting up was the best option.
“Come on, Mari, you’re Ladybird, stuff like this is nothing.” Marinette murmurs to herself in an attempt to keep her nerves at bay. That doesn’t go well, as the creaking noise suddenly fills the hallway. She sure hopes that it’s the air conditioner making those sounds. Marinette was slowly regretting not taking Alfred’s lead and follow him to the kitchen, at least she knows the kitchen area better than the damn halls. The amount of time she still gets lost in the halls just to find the gym is an outlandish number.
Ding. Ding. Ding.
Clenching her teeth, she fumbles to unlock her phone. Despite using it as a flashlight, she also didn’t want to accidentally turn the only source of light off. The second her phone unlock, thunder and lightning decided to join forces making her jump at the sudden flash of light and a loud boom.
“I am so killing Jason…” She mutters. Finally, she is able to see the notification. It was a series of messages stating clear and the location. There were at least five out of the nine that were currently in the manor. They had invited Duke, but he opted out the second he realizes who was picking out the movies. Apparently, any movie chosen by Jason could only mean bad things and Duke, surprisingly, wanted nothing apart of it.
The creaking noises remain active, something that made walking down the hall and looking for a potential intruder much more difficult. Had the creaking stops, this would have been much easier to delegate which room needs searching.
Back downstairs, the Bat-family all decided to meet up in the living room. Marinette had yet to make an appearance. Damian was growing impatiently worried for his beloved, so much that he was practically stabbing the ground with one of many katanas.
“Master Damian,” Alfred chastised seeing the new marking on the floor. Great another reason to keep buffering the floors at least twice a month. Alfred knows that everyone’s worries were running high. They still had yet located the cause of the sound—a potential intruder—and it’s not like they would go into the Batcave without a problem, but they didn’t want to take that chance.
“She should have been here by now,” Damian grumbles placing the sword back into its sheath.
“Demon, we’re talking about Pixie, the girl literally has problems getting to the gym every once in a while, and that’s with light.” Jason’s words slowly dawned on the family. He’s right. Marinette may be officially apart of the family now, but the designer literally stays in like five places within the manor: hers and Damian’s room, the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom nearest to her, and the Batcave. Beyond those options, it’s better for Marinette to have a guide, which is usually Titus, and sometimes Alfred when he doesn’t have anything to do.
“I got the tracker ready, sir. Should I place it on heartbeat mode?” Alfred shows them the tracking device with a knowing look on his face.
The Batbros race to the device only for Tim to grab it and put it in the right settings.
“Hold on, wouldn’t it better to search for heat signatures?” Dick asks—well he was thinking aloud for the most part.
“Ideally yes, but the readings can become messy if we’re all in the same room or if what we are dealing with doesn’t radiate heat. It’s best to go with a pulse or in other words a heartbeat. Got any more questions, Dick.” Tim states glaring at his oldest brother. They were all worried about Marinette, but it was upped times ten. “Now are we going to try and find ‘spresso and whoever even dared to enter the manor?” Tim was a man on a mission. In fact, they all were.
No one dared to object to Tim’s claims. Damian was impatiently tapping his feet against the ground, and soon there were thirteen pulsing dots going off the tracker. Tim mentally did a headcount, with him included there were nine people in the room with him which means four of the dots are in unknown locations.
“So, which one do we follow?” That was the question on everybody’s mind.
“We go to the one that is alone, with a faint pulse.” On the device, several feet away is a flickering dot as if there was some interference in picking up the heartbeat. It wasn’t stable.
“Damian, where are your animals?” Barbara asks typing away on her phone. She may not be at the bat-computer, but she can still manage with Wi-Fi and a portable device.
Damian wasn’t sure where his animals are. He knows for a fact that Alfred the cat was in his room, Titus disappears to hang out with Ace every now and then. The rest of the animals are most likely outside in their miniature houses that he keeps at the manor for nights like these.
“No time to argue, we got to move.” Tim was already ahead of the family following the path guided to him by the tracker.
The bat-family follow the strange signal until they reach a dead end. All the doors were shut, and the thunder was booming with no means to stop. They haven’t seen or heard from Marinette since they disbanded earlier that night. Soon, the faint pulsing signal grows stronger as they approach the final door. No one, aside from Alfred, could remember what was behind that door. It was a bedroom.
“Whoa” Tim yelps, looking down at the tracker. There are now twelve pulsating dots on the device. They all filter into the room. It was practically empty which put them all on edge. Marinette was somewhere in the manor and now there were in an empty room with no clues on where to start.
Using their flashlights, they scan every inch of the place and still found nothing. Alfred takes the device away from Tim who protested but when he realized that it was Alfred he calms down.
“I don’t think there is another person in the manor,” Cass states looking around the room. She was eyeing the large wardrobe. If her hunch is correct, then she knows where the newest pulsing signal is coming from and that makes her giddy.
“I concur with Miss Cain.” Alfred walks over to the second door that is in the room and opens it revealing a certain black Great Dane wagging his tail happily yet protectively. He barks but upon seeing his owner, he calms down. “It appears that one of the signals is Titus and with him being her it only means that Miss Marinette is in this room. Perhaps in the wardrobe.”
The second the word “wardrobe” escapes the butler’s lips, all the bat-bros rush over to the item. Damian was quick to open it and there she is. Marinette’s small enough to fit comfortably on the base and stay hidden had there been any clothes on the rack. In her arms is a small pup, probably the intruder that has been haunting them. The pup’s nails are long and need to be cut. Marinette was sleeping which made it easier for Damian to scoop her into his arms.
The pup wakes up and begins barking yelping up a storm causing Marinette to stir in Damian's arms. Her eyes flutter open and a yawn escapes her lips.
“Is it morning already?” She yawns once more rubbing her eyes. Damian shakes his head causing Marinette to pout and try to find comfort in Damian’s arms to fall back to sleep to, but the pup in her arms wasn’t having it. “Oh quiet, you.” Marinette laughs and tightens her hold on the pup.
“That doesn’t explain the strange pulsing signal?” Steph states looking over Alfred’s shoulder and once more a signal was faltering without a constant beat.
“That’s because I believe, Miss Marinette is currently with child.” Alfred places the device down for everyone to see. “We have the heartbeat tracker on pulsing signals that can be easily translated to a heartbeat. If Miss Marinette, is indeed with child, the interference to this signal is the pulsing from the fetus.”
Alfred pause for a second giving everyone to process the news. Damian’s exe. was broken as he stares at his wife with love and shock. The rest of the family, aside from Cass, was blinking away the shock. Five, four, three, two…one. Then they all break out in shouts of excitement.
“Oh my god, we’re going to be uncles!” Dick exclaims bouncing in place. He even wraps his arms around Damian, who was still frozen and gives him a side hug knowing full well that he can’t protest.
Jason looks like he was about to kill someone—more or less Damian for a matter of fact. Marinette was his sister in everything but blood. Yes, he’s excited for the incoming member of the family, but he doesn’t know what to do.
Tim was trying to wrap the news around his head. He hadn’t had any coffee since before the movie night started and with the power being off, there’s no way for him to make his usual late-night cup of coffee.
“Will you shut up; I’m trying to sleep here,” Marinette growls bring the attention back to her. Damian did the only thing that came to mind, he places a kiss upon her lips. Marinette moans and she would have playfully hit him had her arms weren’t holding the pup.
“So, no one is going to question how a puppy got into the manor?” Steph asks pointing to the pup still in Marinette’s arms. She was tempted to coddle the pup and leave the room to return to her own and news come back to life in the morning.
“Titus’s doggy door, most like. I won’t know until I check all the cameras.” Barbara says wheeling herself over to the couple, “Congratulations Damian…I’m going to bed.”
“We are so talking about this in the morning,” Dick claims as he walks out the room pushing Jason and Tim along with him.
Soon it was just Marinette, Damian, and the dogs alone in the room. Damian had a few options to consider, stay the night in this room or walk through a series of halls to return to their own bedroom. It’s late, so he chooses the former. Placing Marinette on the bed was easy once the newly introduced pup jumps out of her arms and onto the bed.
He makes sure she’s comfortable before joining her. Titus curls at the foot of the bed barking at the pup to come to him to which the pup did. Damian pulls Marinette into his chest and whispers, “Thank you, Angel,” into her ear.
“You’re welcome, Demon.” Marinette murmurs back before going off to sleep.
Who would have thought that this is how his family would find out that Damian and Marinette were expecting? This would go down as the best accidental reveal in their family history.
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