#anyways- gonna rant about the best boy in the replies in a minute if you wanna read tat shit <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jackie5656 · 3 years

Text

Truth or Dare

With; Stiles Stilinski

IMPORTANT A/N:I’m officially down bad folks. But I wanted to say there’s a song I need you to play during a specific part of this story. It really only lasts a minute, and you’ll know when to play it. ALSO do not skip over this fic just because the song is by 1D I promise it’s fitting and not fangirl cringe. But this is tumblr an app practically made for that...@ me. Anyways I appreciate all the recent love on my work, and I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Teen drinking

———————————————————————

“Y/n”

“Mmm.”

“Do you have a crush on anyone?” Of course Isaac, shit-eating smirk and all would be stirring the pot. Knowing damn well you’ve made eyes at Stiles for as long as he’d known you. You stare him down with a knowing smile, taking a slow sip of your drink before answering.

“Yeah”

Stiles raises his brows in surprise at your nonchalant response. If you did have a crush, wouldn’t you have told him? All he did was rant about Lydia to you. Though, he hadn’t talked about her in a while. Seeing as his feelings for her had seemingly fizzled away earlier this year. It was odd, one day he was madly in love with the girl and the next he wasn’t. Either way, he’s surprised at the twinge of anger he feels at your words. Jealousy

The realization scares him, what was he jealous for?

“Interesting y/n/n, who’s grabbed your attention?” Isaac presses, the two of you not breaking contact as you take another challenging gulp of your drinks. A couple of the pack members exchange worried glances. The two of you always have a habit of teasingly pushing each other’s buttons, but issac seems to be pressing a little too much. As if he knows something the others don’t.

The twinging heat in Stile’s stomach ignited, burining much brighter than before as his eyes dart between the two of you. What the hell was this? When had you and Isaac become so close? Close enough to confess each other’s crushes. He grips the solo cup in hand harder, having ignored the bubbling beverage until now.

“You’re only allowed one question Isaac. And you just used it.” You counter matter of factly, leaning back into your chair simultaneously with the blonde. The others watch your interaction intently, all having noticed the tension grow.

“I’m gonna go grab a drink.” Stiles announces suddenly, weaving between the various patio chairs as the attention turns to him.

“Aren’t you driving?” Scott interjects worriedly, not letting the change in his friends demeanor go unnoticed. Stiles pauses, turning on his heel and facing the group of you with a mischievous, somewhat forced smile .

“We can sleep here. Right Lydia? Your mom said you had the cabin for the weekend?”

“Uh, yeah. I only had a few of the guest rooms prepared. But there’s definitely enough room for everyone.” She replies, tone hesitant due to the shift energy.

“Everyone down to stay the night?” Stiles inquires, practically challenging the group to say no.

“Fun!” Lydia interjects before any of you can protest “I’ll set up the rest of the rooms. It’ll be like one big sleepover! Allison, help me grab some pillows and blankets from the basement?” She pulls the raven-haired teen along before she can answer. Shooting you a ‘what the hell just happened’ look before tugging Allison past Stiles and into the house. Leaving you, Scott, Isaac, and Stiles to deal with the lingering tension.

“Back in a sec.” stiles raises his cup in a sort of salute before making his way through the sliding glass door and towards the kitchen.

“Is someone gonna tell me what I’m missing here?” Scott inquires confusedly, looking just as astonished as the girls at how odd the three of you were acting. Scott was your other best friend, and of course knew you’d been crushing on Stiles for ages. But nothing had stemmed from it until now.

“Looks like everyone knows y/n’s crushing except the one she’s crushing on.” Issac offers with a smirk. Laughing when you get out of your seat to playfully shove his head to the side.

“You’re such an ass. I’m going to check on him.” You head towards the kitchen with what little pride you have left, shooting up your middle finger behind your back when you hear the two boys having a laughing fit at something Scott mumbles.

Usually, you’re the one drinking when the lot of you hang out. Lydia and Allison sip on something most times, but of course Isaac and Scott can only do it for taste. Even then, Isaac only takes shots with you to see who won’t make a face at the bitter beverage (bastard always wins). That’s why it’s such a surprise when you walk in the kitchen to see Stiles adding a significant amount of liquor to a fresh cup of soda, eyes boring into the liquid as if it’s just insulted him. Your eyes subtly trace over the way he clenches his jaw, pushing away the butterflies you feel when you observe his veiny hands gripping the cup. Jesus you need to touch some grass

“Easy there. Trying to out-drink me Stilinski?” You push your cup towards him gingerly, putting up your hand to signal him when to stop pouring.

“Something like that.” Stiles mumbles with a tight lipped smile, taking a gulp from the cup and making an insanely dramatic grimace. Shivering and shaking his head violently at the shock of the taste.

“You’re usually not one to drink.” You let it come out as more of a question than a statement, laughing amusedly at his spurratic reactions.

“Yeah, well...” Is all he replies, shrugging before taking another sip. This time only blinking hard to withstand the flavor. Your head cocks to the side in curiosity, holding your tongue before trying to ask what’s up with him. His eyes narrow at your actions, the fiery feeling before burning once more as he takes in your cute expression. Damn you, it’s like you’re trying to get him riled up. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but whatever feelings the brunettes been harboring are starting to bubble over. He figures he’s always had eyes for you, but it wasn’t exactly a convenient time to come to the realization he’d fallen for you. It’d been a long time coming admittedly, but it’s not like he could act on it. Well, maybe he could. He shakes away the lustful thoughts when you lean against the counter beside him. Wearing one of your more revealing tops tonight. He swears you’re doing this shit on purpose.

“Ready to go back out?” You suggest with raised brows, hoping the liquor will brighten his mood. He nods, following you back through the living room and towards the back patio. Surveying the newly placed pillows and blankets beside the couch as he steps out towards the fire pit.

“You’re back, finally! Stiles, it’s your turn to ask someone.” Lydia claps her hands to get your attention. You and Stiles sitting next to each other on one of the couches amongst the undoubtably expensive outdoor furniture.

“Alright. Isaac, truth or dare?” Stiles challenges the blonde from across the fire pit. Isaac smirks, adjusting himself on the couch opposite you.

“You guys know me, I’m mostly an open book. But with they way you’re staring me down, I’ll go with truth and skip out on whatever dare you’re fantasizing about in that big brain of yours.”

Stiles scoffs with a forced smile, just slightly moving closer to you when he sees you and Isaac make what contact.

“Do you have a crush on anyone?”

“Can we do repeat questions?”

“Don’t bullshit me Lahey, answer me.” Stiles isn’t necessarily rude, but doesn’t show any signs of breaking his serious expression when Isaac raises his brows with an amused laugh. He looks over at you, before letting his eyes fall on Allison. You don’t let their intense eye contact go unnoticed, despite it only being for a split second.

“Yeah, I do.” He mutters simply, sitting back in his seat with an uncaring smile. You can tell he is in fact shitting himself internally, being one of the few people able to see through his cocky facade.

Without a juicy enough answer, Lydia begins to give a dare. “Alright Scott, truth or-”

“Can I go again?” Issac interjects, your stomach dropping when you can practically see the gears turning in that mischievous mind of his.

“Well, it’s Scott’s turn to be asked.”

“No worries, the question is for him.”

“Well, alright.” Lydia looks between you and Allison with another ‘what the hell’ expression. Neither of you can think of an answer.

“Okay Scott. Truth or dare?”

“Uh, dare. I guess.” The tanned boy replies, not as amused when the attention turns to him.

“Kiss y/n.” Stiles chokes on his drink before the rest can even react, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his flannel sheepishly when the rest of you have your eyes on him. Scott gets up from his chair reluctantly, moving towards the couch where you’re sitting and offering you a hand up. You take it with a nervous chuckle, smile brightening when the taller boy grabs the sides of you head a plants a quick peck to your forehead. Each of you giving a respectful bow and courtesy as the group claps.

“What was that?” Isaac teases, amused expression adorning his features at the cute interaction.

“You weren’t specific about it, you just said to kiss her.” Scott explains with a prideful smile, happy to have found a loophole in his dare. He’s always been like a big brother to you, even though you never let him forget you’re a month older.

“I thought it was sweet.” Allison muses, having found the interaction between her ex boyfriend and you simply cute. Of course her and Lydia never fail to point out the way you longingly stare at your sarcastic best friend just about every minute of every day.

“Thank you, thank you. We try our best.” You give another curtsy before sitting back down, tucking your legs under yourself and letting the tops of your knees lean against Stiles’ thigh. His tense shoulders seem to ease at the contact, despite wanting to shoot out across the fire pit and pumble Isaac.

“Okay Allison, truth or dare?” Lydia turns her attention to the brunnette beside her, eager to continue the game.

“Dare.”

“Chug your drink.”

Allison groans, pursing her lips in a small pout and raising her drink to you in suggestion. Seeing as you often participate in chugging contests at Lydia’s infamous parties, you’re not one to step down from the offer.

“Fine, I’ll be your moral support. Stiles, you wanna join?” You’re happy he’s finally trying to let loose, and you’re honestly eager to see a drunk Stiles. He leans over you to see how much liquid is in your cup and Allison’s, nodding when he observes that they all have just about the same amount.

“Why not, don’t expect to win though.” You scoff at his cocky remark, scrambling up from your sitting position and moving over to the speaker playing some pop song quietly.

“I need some motivation, not that this’ll be much of a challenge.” You counter playfully, confidence brightening when your three friends that aren’t participating start placing bills down to bet. With the increase of volume, you can feel the base of the music vibrate beneath your feet as you sit back down beside Stiles.

“Ready? 3, 2 ,1 go!” You’re a bit surprised at Scott’s enthusiasm, but figure he’s just as eager as the others to win his money. Immediately, you Stiles and Allison start gulping down the bitter liquid. You open your eyes for a split second, observing how far your opponents have gotten. Stiles shoots his arm out towards you, playfully trying to knock the cup out of your hand whilst chugging. You do the same, hitting his arm away and tilting your head even farther back to finish. You’re done only a split second before the other two, who finish at the same time, grimacing not only from defeat but by the foreign bitter taste. You raise your empty cup as playful whoops erupt from the spectators.

“That’s my girl.” Isaac cheers idly, bumping the sides of his fist with your own as he happily collects his earnings.

“Don’t I get a percentage? I did all the work!”

“y/l/n, they don’t pay the race horses. All the money goes to the lucky better.”

“I should have put my money on you.” Scott groans, laughing when Stiles playfully shoves him.

“I was close, she cheated!” Stiles excitedly argues, and you’re glad his mood has improved since before.

“Like hell we were, she killed us. And I for one will not be participating. I’m definitely placing a bet though.” Allison retorts, reaching into her wallet for cash.

“Do you really want to be embarrassed again Stiles? I’m not going easy on you.”

“Bring it on y/n/n.”

*****

“Okay, we’re officially turning in. Will you guys be okay?” Lydia yawns as she finishes, Scott and Allison getting up as well.

“What? The party was just getting st-started!” Stiles hiccups with raised arms.

“Sti, it’s 2 in the morning. We all need to get some rest for the drive tomorrow.” Scott explains, ruffling his drunken best friends hair and chuckling when he slowly swats his hands away.

“Whatever dad. You’ll stay up with me?” Stiles turns to you with a hopeful expression, eyebrows furrowing when Scott distracts you with a kiss to the top of your head.

“You’re okay to get him to bed?” He asks whilst ignoring Stiles’ offended expression at the notion, turning to head inside when you nod.

“I would stay, but then I’d be a third wheel so...Night!” Isaac chimes with a charming grin, dodging your attempt at hitting him and planting a quick kiss to your temple before rushing inside.You and Stiles mumble reluctant replies when the rest of the pack shouts their good-nights, their absence bumming you out.

“Lame.” You simultaneously deadpan, giggling into your cups at the jinx. The fire’s only embers by now, a chill running down your spine at the sudden,cool summer night air.

“Mmm.” Stiles hums through the his cup, attempting to shrug off his flannel whilst holding the plastic between his teeth. “Take this, it’s cold.” You shake your head quickly, dizzying at the movement.

“I’m fine, if I took it you’d be cold.” You giggle when he rolls his eyes, cup in his mouth slashing a little bit of liquid down his chin when he continues to try and maneuver out of the fabric. “You’re such a lightweight.”

“Am n-not!” He hiccups between words, mumbling due to the plastic still clenched between his teeth. You laugh again, shuffling across the couch to help him out of the shirt. You know he’ll only persist if you refuse again, deciding to give in to his stubborn behavior instead of arguing. You get his arm that’s closest the you out of the first sleeve, reaching across his lap to help remove the other.

Stiles is instantly overwhelmed with the scent of that sweet perfume you’re always wearing. The heat emanating from your body disorienting him for moment before he remembers the cup still in his mouth. You finally get his other arm free, sitting back on your legs only to meet his droopy brown eyes. He looks a little stunned, and you realize the alcohol’s made you a bit more bold than usual. His face is only inches away, close enough for you to smell the alcohol on his tongue. Slowly, he removes the cup from his mouth, eyes never leaving yours. You take a sharp intake of breath, the air between ou tingling with some sort of buzz as your eyes avert down to his now visible lips. His eyes go down too, and you’re reminded of the wrap shirt Lydia had forced you to borrow, exposing a bit more chest than you’re used to. He clears his throat shuffling mere centimetres closer to you as his hands move towards your neck. This is it, he’s finally going to-

“You’re necklace, it’s messed up.” His voice cracks as he speaks, and you try not to completely deflate when he clears his throat gain as he clumsily drags the chain so the charm is back against the soft skin between your collarbones.

“Oh, thanks.” You internally cringe at how disappointed you sound, shrugging on the warm fabric of his flannel and leaning back against the couch.

******

You’re sitting on the counter and watching amusedly as Stiles clumsily searches the cabinets for something to eat.

“These people eat like hamsters, where’s the junk food?” He whines, exasperated from his mere 30 second search.

“Sti?”

“Hmm?”

“Truth or drink.” He let’s out another whine at your words, giving up on his search and leaning against the counter across you expectantly. Admittedly, he’s pretty tipsy and nearing drunk, not to mention pretty pissed that he chickened out earlier. He feigns annoyance when you nibble on your thumb to think of a question, heart melting when he observes how your feet kick in the air as the dangle off the counter top.

“Kiss marry kill. Isaac, Derek, and Scott.” He groans at your words, lips upturning to a smirk when you giggle into your cup.

“Can’t I just marry Scott, then kill Isaac and Derek?” He tries to argue but you immediately shake your head, expectant of a complete answer. “Fine. Kiss Derek, marry Scott, and kill Isaac.”

“Why Isaac?”

“Because he’s an ass, and he wears scarves in the summer. My turn.” You roll your eyes at his words, awaiting his question.

“Do you have a crush on Isaac?” Your eyebrows furrow in shock, shaking your head and laughing loudly at the notion. Sure, Isaac was hot, but you’d never had that sort of feelings for each other. He was more like a brother if anything, just like Scott. Stiles seems surprised at your answer, persisting the moment you quiet down. “Then who was he talking about before?”

“It’s actually my turn, no double questions. What were you so mad about before?” If he wanted to get personal, you might as well match the energy. He rolls his shoulders at the question, bringing the cup to his lips to hide his smile when you throw your hands up in defeat.

“Coward.” you grimace playfully, pouting when he only shrugs at your insult.

He jumps, startled when you gasp suddenly and reach over the counter. Turning up the volume on the stereo from before you’d brought inside. ‘Wolves’ by one direction, plays much louder now that you’ve turned the notch on the device.

“Oh my god, why?” Stiles dramatically looks up to the ceiling when you hop off the counter in excitement. Of course, he recalls the first time he’d heard the song. You’d forced him and Scott to listen to it in the jeep one night, saying it was just too ironic to not make it ‘your song.’ And whether him or Scott want to admit it or not, they’d belted out the lyrics with you a few times before.

You’re grabbing his hands before he can protest farther, rolling up the baggy sleeves of his flannel for the umpteenth time that evening as you begin to move to the opening notes, pulling him along with you. You thank the alcohol for your surge of confidence and the easy sway of your hips, grateful for the liquid courage.

“You totally love this song!” You shout over the music, too drunk to care if the others are awoken by your antics.

“Totally don’t!” Stiles retorts just as loud, laughing when you raise his arm so you can spin under it. Beginning to bob his head and mumbling the lyrics you’re currently shouting.

In the middle of the night when the wolves come out, headed straight for your heart like a bullet in the dark.

One by one, I gotta take them down,

We can run and hide, ain’t going down without a fight

You both howl obnoxiously with the music, jumping and spinning as it booms through the speakers. The alcohols hitting now, effectively loosening his muscles and making the both of you laugh obnoxiously at how stupid you probably look. Despite the silliness of it all, it’s the most at ease Stiles has felt in a while. There’s a certain energy you bring, a type of way you make him feel that’s always drawn you so close.You stumble over to the stereo when the third verse comes on, grin not leaving your lips when you feel his reluctance to let go of your hand. You turn the music down, not familiar enough with the remaining verses to be able to sing it. Besides, you were lucky enough Lydia hadn’t come down there, slippers and all, to scold you both to bed.

“That’s it? There’s more to the song!”

“I thought you didn’t like it?” You pant out, both out breath as you move beside him to lean against the counter once more.

“I-I don’t, just like dancing with you.” He blurts out, too intoxicated to care to filter his words. You study the spacey look in his eyes, cheeks flushed from the alcohol and exhilaration. It’s funny, a few months ago this would’ve just been any other sleepover with your best friend. But it’s different now, you can only assume he too has noticed the shift in energy between you. The electricity

“Sti?”

“Hmm?”

“Truth or dare.”

“Wh-what?” He turns to face you, brows furrowing at your hopeful eyes.

“Truth or dare.”

“We’re still doing this?”

“Just say dare!” You persist, hitting his chest in annoyance. The alcohol’s coursing through your veins, giving you too much confidence for your own good.

“Fine, dare.” He’s confused at your change in behavior, not recognizing the mischievous expression on your face.

“Kiss me.”

And that’s when Stiles Stilinski, Romeo himself, pukes into the kitchen sink.

*********

“I am not th-that drunk.” He stops mid sentences, clutching his chest and pausing to suppress a particularly violent hiccup.

“Sure Sti, tell that to the vomit on your shirt.” You huff out, half listening to the belligerent boy towering over you as you guide him towards the bathroom. He’s gotten significantly drunker while you were cleaning the sink, all the alcohol finally catching up to his inexperienced self. And sure, the slurred words and tousled hair was cute at first, but now he was a much too heavy toddler you were practically dragging to the bathroom.

“I wan’ sleep.” You fumble out a laugh at his childish demeanor, shuffling into the guest bathroom and flipping on the switch to illuminate the area, much to the drunk boy’s distaste as his droopy eyes adjust to the light. Admittedly, your’re also significantly intoxicated, thought process definitely a little slower than usual. Luckily, you’ve had enough experience to know when to cut yourself off.

“You can sleep after I get you to stop reeking of vomit, now arms up.” You order sternly, heart melting when his lips puff into a small pout at your words. He does as told, lanky arms high up in the air as you hastily pull the fabric up and over his head, careful not to get the throw up anywhere else on him. You run the cotton under the sink, wreching at the smell. The things you do for your friends

When his shirt is thoroughly washed, you diligently wring it out and hang it on the rack with the hand towels beside the counter. Crouching down to inspect the cabinet under the sink for anything to clean yourselves up with. You grab a small washcloth and a spare bottle of mouthwash, placing the items on the counter and meeting Stiles’ gaze. He’s a bit zoned out, but he’s smiling sweetly down at you as he watches you work.

“You’re like, really pretty.”

“And you totally can’t handle you’re liquor.” You retort with a roll of your eyes, pushing away the butterflies his words release. “Now swish and spit, your breath stinks.” Without as much of a fuss, he takes the bottle and does as instructed, letting out a dramatic ‘aah’ and giggling when you meet eyes in the mirror. You follow after him, figuring that’d have to be the maximum dental hygeine for the night considering the time crunch. You grab the rag from the counter, running it under the water and lathering soap into it before lifting it towards the boy beside you.

“Can I wash you off real quick?” You wait for his nod of approval, chuckling at the hilarity of the situation s you run the warm rag across his upper chest. “This’ll be one hell of a story.”

“Mmm.” He only hums in response, looking down at you intently, serious expression making your head tilt to the side in question.

“What?”

“Nothin, just sorry I didn’t kiss you.” Your movements halt at his words, continuing when you turn your attention back down to your task instead of his eyes.

“Told you I could out drink you. Next time don’t challenge me to shots.”

“N-noted.”

******

“Shhhh!” Your eyes are wide in warning as you make your way down the hall, arms wrapped around Stiles in support as he stumbles along with you.

“Shhh-shhh.” He mimics your actions, bringing a clumsy finger to his lips as you hold back a laugh. Finally, you set him down on the bed, turning towards the guest room dresser and tossing the sweats and t shirt Lydia must have left there to him. He groans, quickly undressing and tugging on the new clothes. Laying back down on the bed and throwing his forearm to cover his eyes as you change into Lydia’s spare shorts, figuring the shirt and flannel you still had on were sufficient enough as pjs.

You and Scott had fallen asleep during late nights at Stiles’ house numerous times whilst investigating Beacon Hills latest supernatural threat. So it’s not surprising when Stiles clumsily shuffles under the silky duvet with a satisfied sigh, lifting the covers so you can climb in next to him. It’s a queen sized bed, much bigger than the creaky twin you’ve shared before. Still, Stiles moves even closer, you’re well aware he’ll only fall asleep if he’s in the very middle of the mattress. It’s quiet, and you happily settle into the covers as sleep tugs at your eyelids. Only opening one eye when the boy beside you turns onto his side to face you.

“You know y/n, I miss when we were little. L-like when we used to dress up in our moms clothes, and then I twisted my ankle wearing my moms heels.” You chuckle fondly at his slurred retelling of the memory, images flashing by of when you were kids. He studies you, trying to commit the sweet laugh to memory before continuing. “I mean, I like where we are now. I do, because we’re still best friends and I still love you.”

“I love you too Sti.”

“N-no, no you don’t get it.” He shakes his head vigorously, drunken state dramatizing his movements as he argues. Sounding almost solemn at your response. “I mean I love you, and it’s terrifying. A pretty new revaluation might I add, so I thought getting drunk might help. Am I drunk?”

“Yes, very much so. And you should sleep before you say something-”

“No! I meas you have to know this. What if like, I never told you and then...Well I never would have told you! That’s like, Shakespeare tragedy bullshit and we’re definitely better than that. So, I love you. And not in the ‘we took baths together and played dress up in our moms clothes’ type love. It’s the ‘I’m always confused because you give me this...Weird tingly feeling and I never know how to go about it and it makes me want to kiss you’ type of love...I guess. Am I like, really drunk?” You’re to say the least stunned with his confession, though the various hiccups in between sentences didn’t call for the most romantic ambiance.

“Yeah, you’re pretty wasted.” You smooth out his messy hair, too exhausted (and tipsy) to want to accept any of this is actually happening.

“Sorry I didn’t kiss you. The vomiting was unrelated to you making a move on me, just so we’re clear.” He croaks out, voice rasped from the lull of oncoming slumber.

“And here I was thinking I made you nauseous.”

“No, you do give me butterflies though. Too pretty.” He muses, chuckling when you push away his face, nose having booped yours to accentuate his point. It can’t be legal to be this cute while intoxicated.

“You gotta close your eyes Sti, have to sleep off all this alcohol.”

“M’kay. You’ll stay with me the whole night?”

“Always.”

**********

It’s fairly early when you finally wake, sunlight seeping into the room from the early morning light. You want more than anything to go back to bed, figuring another hour would help ware off the pounding headache tormenting your skull. Only assuming Stiles must feel even worse. It’s then, when you try to shuffle closer into his body warmth, that you realize the bed is empty. The space where he’s laid beside you is still warm, and you reluctantly sit up with the harsh reality that everyone else must be awake too.

You follow the scent of bacon to the kitchen, immediately met with a very grumpy looking Stiles hunched over a cup of coffee. He’s wearing Scott’s lacrosse hoodie, sunglasses covering his eyes and hood pulled over his head to shield himself from any intruding light. You sit down on the stool of the island he’s leaning against, offering a sympathetic smile when he pushes the steaming mug towards you with a grunt.

“Morning everyone!” Isaac chimes with a bright smile, slapping the two of you on the back as you simultaneously groan.

“Late night?”

“You know, I’m usually appreciative of the cheeky sarcasm Scott. But if you don’t wipe that smirk off your face right now, I will seriously consider castrating you.” You stare down the alpha, not even phasing his cheerful demeanor.

“Well before you do that, have some breakfast.” Allison only laughs when the two of you gladly pull the plates she’s placed in front you closer with a genuine murmur of ‘thank yous’. Eager to have the food soak up the alcohol and rid you of the awful hangover.

“And this is why I don’t drink.” Lydia retorts, placing down a bottle of Advil between you with a playful roll of her eyes.

“Speaking of, what was that music last night? Scared me half to death.” Allison inquires, looking to the others with a knowing smile when you and Stiles laugh through a forkful of hash browns, eyes on each other and avoiding the others. The two of you might not see it, but you’re practically married with how in sync you are. Always giving each other side eye when approached by someone you both hate, finishing each others sentences. You make a perfect pair, if only one of you had the balls to act on it.

“Flannel looks good on you y/n.” Isaac snickers, tugging on your elongated sleeve with a grin. Only more amused when you flip him off in silence.

“You know, none of the guys I’ve hooked up with have never offered me their shirts.” Lydia pouts while pushing around the eggs on her plate, shocked when you and Stiles simultaneously choke on your (now individual) coffees.

“We, we didn’t hook up!” Stiles defends, now unable to meet your mortified gaze.

“Well, I know that I just mean-”

“Hold on. Am I missing something here? You two have seriously never...I mean never?” Isaac looks genuinely bewildered as he rambles on, Allison and Scott not so discreetly giggling into their mugs as the conversation continues.

“No!”

“Seriously? I’m always teasing because I figured it was all just unspoken knowledge.” The blonde’s genuinely intrigued, not noticing Lydia’s persistent signals to stop talking. “Scott, you’re telling me you can’t smell the sexual ten-”

“OKAY, we’ll be leaving now. Lydia, thank you for having us-”

“And thank you for the liquor we’re seriously regretting right now.” You finish the farewell for Stiles, grabbing your things and headed out the door before any of them can protest.

“See you at home!” Scott yells out, still finding the situation between his best friends hilarious.

“And always use protect-” Isaac’s voice is cut off when Stiles slams the front door behind him, the both of you trudging towards the jeep. The boy letting out another groan and pinching his nose when you pull the door shut a little too hard, loud noise ringing in his ears.

You fumble through the glove compartment when he pulls out of the long driveway and towards the road, satisfied when you find a spare pair of sunglasses under a pile of crumpled papers.

“You keep this up and I won’t have any more clothes.”

“To be fair, you insisted I put this on.” You argue, referring to the cotton shirt wrapped around you. “How much do you remember of last night anyway?” He chuckles at your question, rubbing his hand over his jaw in contemplation.

“Geez, well there was truth or dare with everyone. They turned in early and you and I hung outside a bit longer. I was...Looking for food in the kitchen and there was dnacing? And I’m pretty sure there was a bathroom involved.”

“You may or may not have puked in Lydia’s sink.” Stiles slaps a hand over his face at your words, laughing along with you when he sees your amusement in his new-found knowledge.

“I’m so sorry, was I a total pain?”

Of course not! You only confessed your love to me like you were expressing a new hobby in which you now have no recollection of.

“Nah, I helped you clean up and then we went to bed. Besides, you’ve taken care of my drunk ass plenty of times.” He observes you in small glances he can get between looking at the road. You seem as though you’re holding back.

To be honest, you were a bit frustrated. On one hand, you could just be honest with him and explain hat he’d said. But he was wasted, and it felt wrong to confess for him. Besides, if he wanted to act on his feelings he would have. And that definitely hurt, but it probably meant he had the same concerns as you. Being best friends made this shit complicated. With everything going on in this town, you had a lot of responsibilities to withhold. You couldn’t afford to lose each other. Ironically, you loved each other too much to risk starting a relationship.

“Sti, you just passed my neighborhood.”

“Yeah. It’s still early and I’m not waiting for this hangover to pass alone. We’re going to my place.”

“Star Wars and pizza?”

“Star Wars and pizza.”

*********

“I’m just saying, the amount of accidental incest in medi is actually uncanny.”

“You bring this up every time we watch A New Hope.”

“I know, but seriously!” He shuffles on his bed, pushing away the pizza box with only a few pieces of crust remaining inside. “Just like that movie you’re always making me watch. The one with the girl and her step-brother.”

“Hey! I told you, Clueless is so much better when you pretend Josh is just a family friend!”

“But we shouldn’t have to pretend it wasn’t originally written about two step siblings falling in love. I mean, what kind of trope is that?”

“Fair enough, I guess old rich white men all have a thing for their siblings.”

“Gross, I’m officially grossed out.” When your laughter settles down, Stiles starts to mess with his fingers. Looking between you and his lap as if debating with his next words.

“Listen, are you sure I didn’t...Say anything last night?” You shift uncomfortably under his gaze, figuring you could at least tell your own truth without completely exposing his.

“Stiles, we were both pretty drunk. I don’t know, I guess something could have happened?”

“How do you mean?” You’re unsettled with how awkward this has all become. But it’s not like this could keep going unsaid. It was too much of a weight to be concealing all of this from him. Stiles was the person you went to for a good vent, and you can’t really vent to your best friend about...Well, being in love with your best friend.

“I may have possibly, maybe asked you to kiss me. And you might have thrown up right after the offer.” His eyes bulge in surprise, and you cover your face with a strained cry at the confession. “It’s your fault for asking!” You whine, instantly regretting saying anything in the first place. This was dumb, you were totally dumb, and no you looked like a complete fool, all because of stupid Stiles.

“Hey.” His voice is soft when he pulls your hands down, mischievous smirk utterly confusing you. “Truth or dare?”

“You do remember! You asshole!” You shout instantly, slapping at his chest as he laughs.

“Woah, woah wait. I may have remembered a bit more than I mentioned in the car. But how was I supposed to know you actually wanted to kiss me or if it was the tequila talking? I figured maybe if you told me the truth, then I’d know if you really meant it.” You stare at him blankly, not nearly as amused as he is.

“If it’s any consolation, you look really cute when you’re pissed at me.”

“Charming, Stilinksi. Do you happen to remember the part where your blacked out ass gave an entire monologue about how in love with me you are? And how sorry you were that you didn't kiss-” With that, he takes hod of the side of your face and connects your lips to his Finally releasing whatever tension that’s been building for agonizing months. It’s nice, really nice, but he’s not getting away that easy. You smack his chest again, fighting the urge to pull him back into you when you observe how flushed he looks.

“Ow, stop hitting me! I had to do something, you were embarrassing me!”

“Good! I’m glad you feel a smidge of what I do, Romeo. You’re just gonna kiss me?”

“I’m sorry, should I not have? Did I totally just misread that?”

“N-no. I mean, I wanted to kiss you. But I figured the only reason you hadn’t said something sooner...Or sober, was because you were afraid of what I was afraid of. With all the shit we go through, I wouldn’t ever want to jeopardize our friendship.” He’s silent at that, trying to find a way in which to convey his thoughts.

“Y/n, we’re a part of the pack. Nothing can break that bond. No matter what, you’re my best friend first. Whatever shit come our way next, we’ll know how to handle it together, like we always do. Besides, if I ever hurt you Scott and Isaac would make sure I never saw the light of day again.” You chuckle softly at his words, feeling a weight you hadn’t known was there lifted off your shoulders.

“I think this is the part where you ask the final truth or dare.”

“Well, I would dare you to kiss me, but you have to promise you wont puke again.”

505 notes · View notes

fqreverwinter · 2 years

Note

Hey I saw that you were looking for requests! Could you make a little one shot of the reader where she and Peter are in the same class and she sees her talking with one of her friends about her friends date? And once she’s done talking with her friend she immediately shuts herself out from the world and seems pretty down. And she catches peter staring at her and she gets nervous, so she leaves and peter finds her and asks her what’s wrong and then they confess to each other?(I was thinking that the reason why the reader is said, is because her fiend went on a cute date with a cute guy and she wishes she could have that with Peter, but she thinks that Peter doesn’t like her because she’s a really outgoing person and annoys people sometimes when she’s just being herself. If that makes sense? I’m sorry if this is kind of confusing) Also, thank you for taking the time to read this, I know that you were looking for mini one shots to write but I still appreciate you taking the time out of your day to make people happy, we need more people like you in the world ❤️❤️ (sorry if that was sappy haha 😅)

no this is so sweet!!! i love this idea! and i appreciate ur message omfg thank u <3

~ ~ ~

valentine

relationship: peter parker x fem!reader (although i imagined mcu!peter!!)

masterlist

***

“So he ended up getting me the flowers and the teddy bear!” your best friend Katie exclaimed, making you laugh.

“What are you supposed to do with something that big?” you asked through a smile.

“Honestly, it’s just sitting in the living room. I have no idea how it’s gonna fit in my room. God, I just wish guys didn’t think that girls want all this sappy stuff. I have so many useless gifts at this point,” she complained with an eye roll.

“At least you get dates,” you muttered under your breath. Katie didn’t hear you, and she just went back to obsessing over how she got the captain of the football team to ask her to the upcoming spring formal.

Your mind drifted. You couldn’t stand another minute of Katie going on and on about boys. You didn’t care about boys—except for one specific boy: Peter Parker. Sweet, shy, genius Peter Parker.

You had a crush on him for years. In your eyes, he was the cutest guy in school. His social awkwardness should’ve turned you off, but it made him even more charming to you. But you weren’t even sure if Peter knew you; sure, you were decently popular, but he never seemed to acknowledge your presence. It broke your heart into pieces.

As your thoughts continued to wander, Katie finally wrapped up her rant. You were brought back to reality when she said, “So that’s why I landed on Jake.”

“Cool,” you said with a nod, pretending to know what she was talking about.

“Anyways,” she said with a sigh. “I gotta go return this book to the library. Wanna come with me?”

You shook your head, “I have some calculus to get done.”

“Suit yourself,” Katie replied. “See you at lunch.”

You waved as she went up to the teacher for a pass. You felt yourself retreat inside your head. Usually, you liked to be loud and outgoing, jumping on your friends and making silly comments. But when Katie was around, she made you feel drained. You loved her, but she had this little way of always trying to be better than everyone. It wore you out to no end.

While staring at your blank math homework, you felt someone staring at you. You turned around to catch Peter’s brown eyes looking at you. He quickly turned away, however, and acted like nothing happened. Your heart beat doubled.

Was he really looking at me? you thought.

Nerves overcame you. You cleared your throat and closed your notebook, deciding to go for a walk to clear your mind. You got a pass from your teacher and rushed out of the classroom. You exhaled as soon as you stepped outside.

You wandered down the hallway for a few seconds then decided to go to your locker. As you arrived, you felt someone behind you.

“Hey, are you okay?”

You turned to, once again, see Peter Parker looking at you. He stood right next to you, a look of concern on his face.

“Uh—Yeah, yeah,” you stuttered with a dismissive wave. “I’m fine. Why?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted with a shrug. “You just seemed a little—upset. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you sighed, leaning against your locker. “It’s just Katie problems.”

“I thought you guys were friends.”

“We are. She can just be a little…much, sometimes. Like today she was going on and on about her date yesterday and all the gifts she’s gotten from guys. I can’t stand hearing all of that in one sitting.”

Peter laughed, “Yeah, Valentine’s Day really brings out the most obnoxious side of people.”

“I know right! Like I don’t care about your date or your exes or—Anything! Katie just wants to brag that she has a boyfriend and I don’t.”

“Didn’t Flash ask you out?”

You groaned, “Flash makes my brain hurt. I’d never go anywhere with him. Besides, I kinda have my eyes set on someone else.”

“Oh?” Peter said with a surprised look. “May I ask who?”

“Oh—Uh,” you said sheepishly. “God, this is gonna sound so bad but it’s—.”

“—You,” you and Peter said simultaneously. Your eyes widened as his lips curved into a smile.

“Wh-What?” you stuttered. “You…like me?”

“Of course I do,” he confessed. “I just didn’t think you’d like me back.”

“I felt the same way!” you gasped. “I thought you’d think I was obnoxious and annoying or something. I’ve been too scared to say something to you.”

“I thought you’d think I was a geek,” Peter said with a laugh.

“Well, you are a geek, but that doesn’t matter to me.”

“Really?” he said with a smile.

“Really,” you repeated. “And it feels so good to finally get that off my chest.”

“So, uh—Can I take you out then? For Valentine’s Day?”

“That was yesterday,” you said with a laugh. “But sure. We can call it an anti-Valentine’s Day date.”

“Perfect. I’ll uh, pick you up at seven?”

“I’ll be waiting, Parker,” you said with a smile as the bell rang. Feeling a rush of confidence, you leaned in and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. Peter looked at you with blown eyes and a rosy blush. You felt your own cheeks heat up, but you kept your cool.

You adjusted your backpack on your shoulder and turned to go to your next class, while Peter stood there, still in shock.

With a giggle, you added, “And don’t be late.”

#peter parker #spiderman #imagine #marvel #oneshot #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #tom holland spiderman #tobey maguire #andrew garfield #spider man no way home #marvel imagine #request #peter parker fluff #andrew!peter fluff #tom!peter parker #tom!peter x reader

124 notes · View notes

aomine-ryo · 3 years

Text

Got a sudden urge to write for Aomine so I did. It kinda hurt to write Kise off like the bad guy but it had to be done 😔 Anyways hope you guys like it!

Scenario: Aomine is in love with Kise’s s/o

gender neutral reader

“What do you mean you’re busy?” you whined into your phone. “It’s Valentine’s Day. You seriously can’t skip out on this for one day?”

You heard your boyfriend, Kise, sigh through the phone. “I’m sorry babe. I made a promise to Kasamatsu that I’d help him with packing today. I’ll try to finish as soon as I can, but it might take a while.”

Unsure whether you wanted to scream or cry at that moment, you paced up and down your room in frustration. “But—“

“I’m really sorry, I have to go now. They need my help. I’ll make it up to you,” Kise cut you off, tone distant and rushed.

“Whatever,” you sighed, feeling an ache in your heart.

“Alright bye. Love you,” he said, not even thinking twice about how salty your tone was.

“Love you—“ you heard the call cut off before you could even finish what you had to say, “… too.”

“I bet he didn’t even hear that,” you grumbled to your best friend, Aomine who was aimlessly scrolling on his phone whilst laying down on your bed through all of this.

The navy haired boy finally spared you a look once he felt the bed sink next to him after you had flopped onto it hopelessly. “That idiot seriously forgot about Valentine’s Day?” Aomine scoffed.

“Seems like it. I don’t think we’re even gonna go out today,” you groaned into your pillow.

“How lame,” he commented, turning his attention back to his phone.

“You can’t say that when you don’t even have a date,” you snapped at him.

“Well, I’d rather not have a date than have my s/o bail on me last minute,” he retorted. “Besides, I’ll have you know that I got many chocolates from other people— I just don’t really like them back,” Aomine gloated.

You didn’t have anything witty to say back. All you could think about was how frustrated you were. “Shut up,” you said simply, and Aomine could tell from your tone alone that you were going to burst into tears if you had one more push.

Aomine switched his phone off and set it on the bedside table, turning to face you and give you all his attention. “Why are you even still with him? You guys barely even talk,” Aomine questioned, knowing the ins and outs of your relationship since you liked to rant to him a lot.

“We talk!” You said defensively.

“Mhmm sure. At this rate, he probably talks to those fans of his more than he does to you,” Aomine said. His words were sharp— they always were. No sugarcoating, just plain honesty with you. You liked that about him, but it still hurt.

“Don’t say that. I like him. Besides, aren’t you his friend?” you said, sitting up and hugging your pillow now.

“I am. But I know how Kise is with relationships. I’m surprised you two even lasted as long as you did,” Aomine shrugged.

“Well I’m not going to break up with him. He’s so sweet. And sometimes he sends me these cute texts and selfies throughout the day— he hasn’t done it in a while but when he does it’s always adorable,” you gushed.

Aomine had to resist rolling his eyes at the words you were saying. He hated hearing about your relationships, he just didn’t know why. But more than anything, he hated hearing about Kise. Kise was one of his best friends, but for some reason that made it worse. He’d always see you two together. And when it was just you and Aomine, he’d still hear about Kise non-stop. He was sick of it.

“What if he just doesn’t like me anymore?” You frowned, hugging your pillow tighter.

“Then he’d be more of an idiot than I thought he was,” Aomine replied as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. He took a look at your state; it was Valentine’s Day and you were sitting in your bedroom looking miserable. Aomine sighed and stood up. “Alright. That’s it. We’re not sitting around and moping all day. It’s Valentine’s Day and we’re both too hot to not have a date right now.”

You looked up at Aomine with a puzzled expression, unable to resist letting out a small laugh at the last part. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is, I will take you on a date. Think of me as your sub for Kise,” a little part of Aomine died inside after he said those words, but if that meant that he got to take you out, so be it.

A smile reappeared on your face at the gesture, making Aomine all giddy knowing he was the cause. “Do I need to dress up?”

“Of course. It’s a date. I’m gonna go home and change. I’ll be back in an hour, alright?” Aomine said.

“Alright,” you nodded excitedly.

“You better look hot— I can’t be caught walking around with an ugly date,” he teased, making you punch his arm playfully.

“Shut up and go home, dumbass,” you shot back, making him leave your room in a fit of chuckles.

With a newfound excitement, you began to get ready. The outfit you chose didn’t require much decision making, especially since you had already picked out what you were going to wear had your plans with Kise not fallen through. You even found yourself putting in extra effort to style your hair even though you know it was just Aomine you were going out with. Perhaps you were just projecting. You just wanted to look nice that day.

Of course, Aomine was about twenty minutes late because well, it’s Aomine. “Daiki, how are you late? You literally live across the street,” you scolded.

“Sorry, I was looking for this,” he said, holding out a box of chocolates to you.

“You do know that you don’t have to get me anything today right?” you said to him, feeling your heart melt regardless.

“I know, but I told you I had gotten a lot, so I figured you might like some,” he shrugged.

The two of you headed out right after, walking to the bus stop in the cool winter breeze. “So, what have you got planned for our date?” you beamed.

“Well, I pulled a few strings and managed to get us a reservation at that fancy restaurant you’ve been eyeing for a while,” Aomine said with a smug look on his face as he watched your eyes widen.

“No way! You got us a reservation at Bisous?”

“Mhmm,” he grinned, loving every moment of your excitement. “And afterwards, we’re going to grab a coffee and take a walk in the park.”

You narrowed your eyes at Aomine. “The park?” You were all too familiar with Aomine’s trips to the park. “Daiki I swear to God if you make me play basketball with you—“

“Think of it as your way of thanking me for the dinner,” he smiled cheekily as the two of you hopped onto the bus.

Other than the fact that you two were dressed up, it was just like any other hang out with Aomine. Comfortable silences, stupid jokes and lighthearted snarky comments— everything was as fun as it always was with Aomine.

“Oh this place is more expensive than I thought,” you mumbled to Aomine as the two of you flipped through the menu at the restaurant. “Are you sure about this?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on me— I’m your date after all,” Aomine said smoothly.

“Oh my, what a gentleman! Maybe I should let you take me out on dates more often if you’re gonna be this sweet,” you teased, making him roll his eyes.

“Shut up or I’m gonna take you to McDonald’s,” he retorted.

“You say that like it’s the worst thing in the world.”

The food at this restaurant was amazing though. At some point Aomine even swore that he would marry the food if he could. A strange conversation followed that statement, but either way, it was one of the best meals both of you had ever tasted. Of course, being in each other’s company made the experience ten times better, discussing anything and everything that popped into your minds.

At the end of your meal, both of you sat back in your chairs, completely satisfied as you waited for the bill. “Here you go,” the waitress said cheerily as she returned to your table with the receipt. “Might I say, the two of you make an adorable pair! How long have you been together for, if you don’t mind me asking?”

You and Aomine shared an awkward look with each other. “Oh um, we’re not—“

“We’ve been together for about a year,” you cut Aomine off and placed your hand over his.

Aomine was far more flustered than he should’ve been at the comment by the waitress, so you saying that completely threw him off for a few moments. He quickly remembered how you liked to lie about your life to strangers, making him a little less confused. However his heart was still racing at that feel of your skin on his. Your hand was cold and it sent chills through his body, but he kind of liked it.

At that point, he was so out of it that he forgot to listen to your conversation with the waitress, but it finally came to an end after her wishing you two a happy Valentine’s Day.

“Why do you do this?” He questioned you as the two of you walked out.

“Because it’s fun,” you said simply.

“It’s fun to lie?”

“If it does no harm, why not?”

The two of you chatted away as you walked to the park. It had been a while since you had this much fun with someone and it was refreshing. You didn’t need to care if you were saying the right thing, you didn’t need to worry about how you looked, you didn’t need to feel anything other than comfort. It was always easy with Aomine.

Just when you two entered the park, you got a call. Stopping in your tracks for fish your phone out of your pocket, you checked who it was. “It’s Ryouta,” you said to Aomine, whose mood was quickly soured by the mention of his name, though he didn’t dare show it.

You had completely forgotten about Kise that evening, but you were still happy to receive a call from him. “Hi babe,” you answered cheerily. You were in a good mood now, but Aomine couldn’t help but internally gag at the nickname.

“Hey, where are you right now?” Kise inquired.

“Oh I’m just hanging out with Daiki, why?”

Just hanging out with Daiki. Did you really have to say it like it was so unimportant?

“I just finished helping Kasamatsu so do you want to come over?” Kise asked.

“Oh um,” you glanced over at Aomine, who was looking over at the basketball court longingly. “Yeah sure, I’ll be there in a bit.”

“Great. See you soon,” Kise replied before ending the call.

“You know, I think I might go easy on you today,” Aomine said, talking about basketball and giving no regard to Kise.

“I’m really sorry, but I’m going to have to cut this date short. Kise wants me to come over,” you said, making Aomine’s heart sink.

“Oh, he finally has time for you now?” Aomine said, words much saltier than he intended.

“Yeah. I will play basketball with you some other time— it’s a promise.”

“No worries. Go ahead,” he said, trying his best to mask the dejection in his tone.

You wrapped your arms around his torso tightly, taking him by surprise. “Thank you so much for this. I had fun.”

A small smile fell onto Aomine’s face. “Ew why are you being so nice. Go away,” he sneered, making you stick your tongue out at him in annoyance before heading off to your boyfriend’s house.

The blue eyed boy sighed as he walked alone to the empty basketball court. He picked up the ball that someone had left behind and he began to shoot some shots. He did end up missing a few, but his mind was so out of it. All he could think of was you. Stupid Kise really doesn’t understand how lucky he was. If you were with Aomine, you’d be the top priority.

The ball hit the rim and bounced off. What was he thinking? Why’d he do so much for you? He wouldn’t go this far to make his other friends happy.

With a groan, Aomine dragged himself out of the park and began to head back home. He got off at your neighborhood’s bus stop and shuffled along the pavement with his hands stuffed in his pockets. As he walked past your house, he couldn’t help but glance over at your bedroom window. The lights weren’t on— you weren’t back yet. He let out a breath. What was he expecting? You were obviously going to spend the night at Kise’s.

But as Aomine stepped into his driveway, he was greeted with a surprise. There you were, seated on the steps of his front porch with tears running down your cheeks. “Y/N? What the hell are you doing here? Where’s Kise?”

“W-We got into an argument and I k-kind of just left,” you cried, hugging your knees.

“Seriously? Of all days, he wants to argue with you today?” Aomine griped as he took a seat on the steps next to you. “Do you wanna talk about it? I’m all ears as always.”

“No, I don’t want to ruin your evening with my complaints,” you shook your head.

“If you say so,” Aomine shrugged. Of course, you crying wasn’t the best thing, but you were here with him now so he was content. “Here, take this, you’re probably cold,” he said, taking off his jacket and putting it over you.

“Thanks,” you sniffled.

“I’m seriously gonna have to yell at him about this because it’s ridiculous.”

��Oh god, please don’t do that,” you protested immediately.

“Why not? He’s being an idiot. You deserve to be with someone who values you more,” Aomine said. Every part of him was screaming ‘you should be with me instead’ but he fought it back.

“Don’t say that. Kise is a good guy…”

“Yeah but it doesn’t seem like he’s good enough of a guy to run after you, now does it?” He said crossly.

“I think you’re being a little too rude, Daiki,” you said.

“I don’t care. I’ll say it to his face too.”

“I hope you don’t. The last thing I need to see is the two of you getting into a fight over all this,” you said, half joking.

“Why? Because I’ll win?” Aomine said smugly.

“I don’t wanna find out,” you chuckled.

“I’d definitely win.”

Just like that, you were laughing again. Why was everything so much better with Aomine? You reflected on your day again. At every point, you felt much happier in your moments with Aomine than with Kise. You couldn’t believe you left the fun time you were having with Aomine just to go have a stupid fight with Kise. You pulled Aomine’s jacket closer. It smelled like home; it smelled like his cologne.

“How come I had more fun tonight with you than with Kise?” you thought out loud.

“Because I’m the best,” Aomine joked.

“I hate to admit it, but you really are,” you said, making Aomine immediately look at your face to read your expression. You were being genuine.

“Well then, why do you bother with anyone else when the best is right here?” Aomine said, tone joking but there was truth in his words.

The dark blue eyes met yours for a moment and for some reason, you couldn’t look away. Were his eyes always this mesmerising? Something about it made your heart skip a beat. Your body was aching for his touch and you could sense the same from him.

Giving in to your urge, you pressed your lips against his and suddenly everything fell into place. His lips moulded into yours like they were made just for you. You felt his fingers run through your hair as if they’d been waiting for this moment his entire life and nothing felt more right. His cologne never smelled as inviting as it did right then and you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from him even though you knew this shouldn’t be happening.

But even though it took every ounce of his willpower, Aomine pulled away from the kiss. He was sure his heart was going to beat right out of his chest at any moment. “Y/N-“

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that,” you stammered as you shuffled around nervously, getting ready to bolt out of there at any instant. “I should leave. Just forget that I did that okay?”

Aomine gripped onto your wrist before you could go anywhere. “Well, what if I told you that I don’t want to forget?”

“W-What?”

“I don’t want to forget that. If there’s anyone who should be doing some forgetting it’s you,” Aomine’s emotions seemed to burst out all of a sudden.

“Daiki, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying forget about Kise. I’m the one you should be with.” A silence fell between you two as you just stood there in shock. Aomine’s words began to sink in. “I love you, Y/N. I’m sorry, but I do. And I can’t stand to see you cry over Kise when you can do so much better.”

“Daiki…” you said softly, tears welling up in your eyes again but this time you weren’t sure why.

Aomine’s grip on your wrist loosened. “That was out of line,” he said hesitantly, the adrenaline washing over. “I’m sorry.”

You watched as he stared at the ground in regret. This man in front of you was really one you took for granted. This one made your heart flurry and your body warm. This one made you feel special in a way that no one else could. This one loved you.

“Can I kiss you again?” was all you managed to muster.

Aomine looked at you like he’d been aching to hear those words for his entire life. He nodded yes. When your lips met his again, you felt at ease. All the complications and doubts seemed to wash away when you kissed him. Everything else was unimportant. All you could ever need was in his lips and that was the most comforting realisation in the world.

#kuroko no basket #kurokos basketball #knb #aomine daiki #kuroko no basket x reader #aomine daiki x reader #kise ryouta

187 notes · View notes

makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 315: I Didn’t Expect This to Blow Up

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “guess which plot that you thought was dead is actually not dead and is making a comeback!” and we were all “EVIL HPSC??” and he was all “girl you know it,” and that’s the story of how we got a sexy Lady Nagant flashback with lots of guns and murder. Flashback!Lady was all “gotta murder peeps to preserve the people’s trust,” but then a little while later she was like “actually wait that makes no sense,” and so she shot her evil boss and they sent her to jail. Back in the present, Deku was all “okay fair, the hero system might in fact be a little fucked up, but hear me out... have you considered not helping AFO take over the world so he can murder like a bazillion more innocent people??” The chapter ended with the not-all-there Overhaul finally revealing himself to Deku, and I honestly have no idea where this is gonna go.

Today on BnHA: In what is unfortunately the single worst plan ever concocted by anyone in BnHA, Nagant is all “I’m going to try and get this Deku kid to panic and freeze up by putting someone in mortal danger.” Deku is all, “[doesn’t panic and freeze up at the sight of someone in mortal danger].” Nagant is all “omg no way.” Deku, who is now all of a sudden being so OP that even I have to acknowledge that it’s OP lol, is all “[smashes Nagant’s gun arm to bits]”, which sucks but is also really cool, and which also apparently makes Nagant decide that she actually likes this kid after all. Deku is all “NAGANT I REALLY LIKE YOU AND THINK YOU’RE GREAT SO PLEASE JOIN UP WITH ME AND STOP BEING EVIL.” Nagant is all “aw shucks (✿ •͈ᴗ•͈) well okay then” and everyone is all “( ･◡･) ✰ ( ˆᴗˆ ) ( ᵘ ᵕ ᵘ ⁎)” and then Nagant FUCKING EXPLODES LIKE AN EGG IN THE MICROWAVE AND FALLS TO HER DEATH!!!! except not really because Hawks saves her??? In conclusion, (a) THE FUCK, and (b) AFO TURN ON YOUR LOCATION I JUST WANT TO TALK.

so I have to tell you guys something, which is that barely ten minutes after I made that “please don’t send me spoilers” post the other day, someone replied to the comments in a stunning fit of “tell me that you’re twelve without actually telling me you’re twelve” energy and posted what seemed to be the copy-pasted spoiler summary from reddit or twitter or whatever lol. so here is my good news/bad news rundown of all that

good news: I have very well-conditioned ABORT!! reflexes and have trained myself to immediately look away from the screen (usually in dramatic fashion) as soon as I realize that whatever I’m reading is a spoiler

bad news: unfortunately as I was subsequently deleting said comments, I accidentally read the very last one

good news??: said spoiler was so unbelievably, absurdly over-the-top that I’m almost positive this person was just trolling. like, there’s just no way lmao

bad news: but in the unlikely event that it is true I will absolutely lose my shit I swear to god

(ETA: “NAGANT DIES.” that was the spoiler I read lol. like, literally all I read from the person’s comments was “My Hero Academia Chapter 315 Title: “Beautiful Words.” Chapter starts with...” and then I noped out of there, and then of all the comments to read as I was deleting, it had to be that one lol. I seriously was just like “SURE, JAN.” all “just how gullible do you think I am” sob. but I was wrong. a troll, but an honest troll they remain.

but anyways like I’m pretty sure Nagant isn’t even actually dead lol, so in the end this whole little adventure doesn’t even have a point to it, but for me it was a journey!)

anyway, so there are apparently two versions of the chapter today?? no idea what the difference is, but I’m going to go with the Bean version, because it’s the one at the top and I don’t feel like making decisions today

huh, so Overhaul is actually more coherent than Horikoshi was letting on

look at him having a whole back and forth conversation with her. side note, how is he still this jacked when he’s been sitting in a cell doing absolutely nothing for the past six months

anyway so he says he’ll go with her on one condition. I wonder what that condition could possibly be. do you think it could be the thing he literally hasn’t shut up about ever since he reappeared lol

yep! and damn -- maybe this guy will surprise me after all

still would be nice if you also felt a bit sorry for the little girl you tortured and traumatized, but this is something at least. maybe Deku will yell at him for that other stuff lol

(ETA: also can’t help but wonder if he wants to make amends because he put him in a coma, or because his plan was a failure and ended up destroying the family. just hoping you’ve finally had that “hurting other people is bad” epiphany dude.)

anyways so now Nagant’s arm is transforming again, and this particular transformation happens to be the only truly unsexy thing that Nagant has done thus far so I’m just gonna skip right on ahead lol

aaaaand we’re back to the delirious ranting

buddy. just. read the fucking room, guy

wow she really is aiming at Overhaul, then. those theories were spot-on

damn she’s really out here all “it really fucks with kids’ heads when you kill people right in front of them and make them blame themselves” like yo

I’m picturing her saying all this in a very loud stage-whispery tone while making very significant eye contact with Deku lol

uh oh but wait

um. okay. who’s gonna tell her. Nagant I might have some bad news for you about the kid you’re trying to capture here. specifically about the way he tends to do the opposite of what you’re thinking that he’s about to do

holy shit

so it’s basically just “tap x repeatedly to charge up your attack” lol

and okay, so that’s cool and all, but is anyone else wincing at the thought of what that must be like on his knees. oh to be young

anyway, but so to the surprise of basically no one, Deku did not, in fact, freeze. I am very sorry, Nagant. he’s just like this

LMAO

someone wanna tell me how getting yoloed in the fucking ribs by this fucking slingshot kid moving at literal sniper bullet speed is in any way even remotely better than getting hit by the bullet itself lol

(ETA: this is 10x funnier now that we know the bullet wasn’t even gonna hit him lmao.)

anyway so now Nagant is having an extended “!?!?!?” reaction about how Deku just moved with no hesitation, and I’m starting to get an inkling of fear that the rest of this fight isn’t going to go very well for her and maybe that’s what all the “hoo boy” is about

oh my god Deku are you about to Gomu Gomu no Rocket yourself at her you insane little man

now Three is popping up again and he’s all “I see you’ve learned your lesson and are now only using three quirks at once instead of five” like with all this effusive praise about how great and badass Deku is and sob, okay, yeah. this chapter is basically one of those machines that shoots tennis balls at people, except instead of tennis balls it shoots hot piping discourse

OH MY GOD

YOOOOOOOOOO but also, NOOOOOOOOOOO

lol oh my god it’s literally two opposing reactions at once wtf. do I love this or hate this. like just for once can Horikoshi actually let a badass lady character win their fucking fight without getting their arm ripped off, BUT ALSO fucking look at that absurdly cool “SMASH” onomatopoeia though. it looks like it’s about to float right off the page holy shit that’s some seriously good art

anyway so is this really the end?? do I need to break out my ಠ_ಠ faces

lmao okay yeah I can definitely see how this would piss a lot of people off

he basically one-shotted her and she’s all “damn this kid is so amazing that I’m about to do a complete 180 turn on all of my previous angst” lmao. Horikoshi is really shounening it up today

on the plus side though, maybe this means there’s still a chance for her to join up with him after all? unless that spoiler was true lmao, then all hell is gonna break loose

YESSSSSSS

OH MY GOD AND HE SAYS THE BULLET WOULDN’T HAVE DONE MORE THAN GRAZE OVERHAUL ANYWAY, wow, I’m actually more relieved by that than I would have expected. I mean I would have forgiven her either way, but it means that there was still more hero in her than she was letting on

YES!!! FUCKING YES, THANK YOU

lol but I mean, it’s also like, “oh so today they get to have brain cells”, thank you so much lol. sometimes it’s really hard to tell which times we’re supposed to question these character decisions that seem dumb, and which times we’re just supposed to full on embrace them and switch off our critical thinking

but okay, so in this case it really was Nagant going easy on him on purpose, and not just her fucking up for no good reason even though she used to do this for a living and was the best in the game. and I know in this case it’s probably just Horikoshi giving us some consolation headpats to soften the blow of her losing so abruptly, but you know what, shit. I’ll take it

also you guys the light is coming back into Deku’s eyes again for just a moment here and I’m having feels about it?? the way it still comes back when he’s reaching out to save someone, and following his own hero path instead of the much darker and lonelier Christopher Nolan path that’s been laid out for him instead that he never wanted?? it’s both reassuring and also very sad

YESSSSSSSSSSS

DO IT LADY OMG PLEASE?? PLEASE COME BE HIS NEW IRRESPONSIBLE ADULT SUPERVISION YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO

AHHHHHHH SHE’S GONNA DO IT AHHHH

p.s. I am now absolutely scared shitless that that spoiler was actually true sob. swear to god, I will throw this manga into a fucking volcano. but we’re almost at the end of the chapter and this seems just WAY TOO GOOD to be true fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck f

UCK

NOPE NAH SEND IT BACK, NOPE, NUH UH, DIDN’T ORDER THIS. “GULLIBLE” OKAY FUCK YOU?? “COUNTERMEASURES” NOPE, DON’T NEED ‘EM, WE’RE ALL FINE HERE. WE’RE ACTUALLY GOOD SO YOU CAN JUST GO, OKAY. PLEASE

fuck, lol, I don’t wanna do it. I don’t wanna scroll down what have I ever done to deserve this oh my god

WHAT THE HONEY-ROASTED FUCK

WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT FUCKING VOLCANO IN ICELAND THAT I KEEP SEEING ALL THESE PICTURES OF. WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT SHIT. LET’S GO

ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW

can someone please give AFO a really good, sharpish kick in the balls. just really let him have it. I’m so tired, what the fuck

-- ARE YOU KIDDING ME LOL WHAT

bro. I was literally going through my Excel folders to find the spreadsheet about female characters in BnHA that I made back when Midnight died. was gearing myself up for a wholeass rant. and honestly I might just let all of that continue simmering on low to keep it warm just in case lol, because to tell you the truth I have absolutely no idea what’s happening right now

my girl straight up does not have a face. she used to have a face. people usually need those, idk. like, even if she’s alive, her gorgeous eyebrows are definitely not making it out of this and I’m gonna throw a funeral just for them

how the fuck did AFO just blow her up?? how did he know what was going on?? and if he had a quirk that could explode people at will, why is this the first we’re hearing of it?? you’d think that might have come in handy at Kamino or Jakku, like what

(ETA: present!me, who’s had more than three hours of sleep and can now actually remember facts about the series, would like to remind past!me that AFO gave Nagant a quirk, and so this is probably just more Vestige shenanigans now on his part. that’s also probably why Air Walk suddenly stopped working out of nowhere. still doesn’t explain why he doesn’t go around blowing people up more often though but maybe he thinks it’s gauche.)

Hawks just straight up out of nowhere. just Mirioed his way straight into the chapter just in time to be too late sob. here I was looking forward to seeing your face when Deku showed up with his new best friend. can’t believe Horikoshi deprived us of that moment

on the plus side, WELCOME BACK, HAWKS’S FEATHERS. I have no doubt that in this chapter of Deku being an almighty threequirk-mastering god, and Nagant losing anticlimactically only to be immediately blown up because girl characters in BnHA can only be cool for one fight and one fight only, there are still some people who are focusing solely on the “how dare Hawks get his wings back when he is a MURDERER this is an outrage what about CONSEQUENCES” discourse, and to hell with all the other discourses lmao

anyway, so yeah. wow. and now it’s just occurring to me that maybe the real reason why Overhaul is there is so he can get a head start on that amend-making by actually doing a good thing for once in his life, and using his quirk to heal Nagant. assuming he can still do that

and so now Horikoshi has got me out here actually rooting for Overhaul. you know what, on that note I think I’m just gonna go ahead and call it a day sob

#bnha 315 #overhaul #chisaki kai #lady nagant #midoriya izuku #all for one #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

286 notes · View notes

iwadori · 3 years

Note

hii there !! i'd like to request a haikyuu boys hyping you up before a game with akaashi, tsukishima and kageyama,, tyvm !!

Hyping you up before a game (Akaashi, Kageyama, Tsukishima)

Can I just say everyone go read @fichyu ‘s works cause theyre an amazing writer (and one of my first followers.) Thanks forrr the request

Word Count: 1.5k

genre: angst (if you squint) fluff

Akaashi

You were about to play your last match in the tournament besides nationals

You were nervous to say the least

In the previous match you played you made a mistake which nearly cost your team the game, making you all the more nervous

You were in the locker room pacing around the room with your hands shaking. You didn’t want to mess up, you can’t mess up. After the last game your team all looked at you with disappointment and sadness making you feel terrible. Your mood felt a bit better in the match when you saw Akaashi in the crowd, if only you could talk to him right now.

Just then, someone knocked on the locker room door and said “Y/N, are you in there?” it was Akaashi, thank god. “Yeah, I’m in here...” you said quietly.

He came in and gave you a hug which you desperately received “You did great in that game Y/N.” he said.

“No, I did terrible...the whole team hates me now.” you reply with a frown forming on your face like a sad puppy.

“Gosh Y/N you are so melodramatic sometimes” he laughed “All you did was let one ball go out..”

“But Keiji I-”

“You still won, didn’t you?” he asked looking down at you “right?”

“Yes, we did win” you say rolling your eyes.

“Well, that settles it then Y/N, you won you’re the ace not TM/N or TM/N... it’s you.” he starts “Now it’s the last game before you get to go to nations babe, you’re going to do great!”

He lets go of you and holds your hand, as you walk towards the court, he brushes his thumb over your hand in a calming motion to relax your nerves. When you get there, your team calls you over with smiles on your face and you look back to Akaashi one more time.

“Don’t worry about it Y/N, I’ll be out there in the crowds cheering you on.” he gives you a hug and a final kiss on the forehead before finishing with “Now go be the ace and win the game.”

After Akaashi’s prep talk, you’ve never felt better. You jog over to the team feeling pumped and ready to the play. The game was hard, a tit for tat with the opposing team battling out for the point. You were on your Agame playing the best performances you’ve ever played. Everytime you scored, you heard Akaashi cheer and yell things like “That’s my s/o!”, “Y/N you’re the best.” which boosted your playing even more.

You end up winning the game with Akaashi smiling at you and telling you “I told you so” after his pep-talk ended up being true. You led your team to nationals with Akaashi coming to every game with his usual cheers and praise.

Tsukishima.

You were fairly new on your volleyball team.

You didn’t get to play in much matches, and you mainly stayed on the bench but that didn’t matter to you.

You did join a few games as the pinch server, and it was a daunting feeling as when you were subbed in you were usually the ultimate game changer.

The day before todays game, your coach told you that unless you get injured you’ll be playing every minute of todays match which deeply worried you. Especially since, the team your playing against you’ve played with before and in that last match you were subbed in as the pinch server and when you hit the ball your serve went out. Causing your team to lose.

The team assured you that stuff like that happen, and it is completely fine and no one blamed you. But you didn’t care, you practiced your serves and your skills over the next time period making sure you wouldn’t cost the team the match.

Your team was prepared and ready for the match, but you definitely weren’t. You look down and see a message from your boyfriend,

Tsukishima: come outside

You went outside and saw your boyfriend there with a one of those colourful cheering things (you know the ones they use in the haikyu games to cheer.) “Kei I didn’t know you were going to be here?” you say a bit surprised.

“Well surprise Y/N..” he said in a deadpan voice.

You smiled before getting nervous again thinking about how close the game is about to start. Tsukishima grabs your hands to stop them from shaking, and says “What’s wrong Y/N?”

“Tsukki, you saw what happened at the last game, how my shitty serve cost us the game.” you huff in annoyance.

“Y/N, I'm never gonna understand your love for volleyball but I know that you’re great. You’ll do great.” he says watching you smile “I’ve seen the way your eyes light up when you step onto the court and how you put your all in everything and it makes me fall in love with you even more every time I watch you play.”

“Thank you Tsukishima, but what if I-”

“You won’t, and even if you do who cares” he says “It’s just a stupid volleyball game anyways” he jokes making you laugh and boosting your spirits.

All your serves were great this game, trying out your recently learned float serve and mastering it every time blowing the competition away. Everyone was amazed by your powerful serves ones which the opposition’s libero couldn’t pick up, scoring more and more points.

You win the game, and your team labels you the MVP of the game, which was well deserved. Tsukishima treated you to a date, a movie and jokes and comments about your opposing team. Ending in a good night.

Kageyama

You were always excited and hyper, the opposite of kageyama making you a perfect match.

You weren’t that good at volleyball to begin with but you were obsessed with the sport.

You lacked some basics skills for volleyball but made up for it with your powerful jumps, spikes and skills.

Kageyama always seemed very interested in your volleyball games, watching and commenting on your setter’s skill or lack thereof. But when it came to you his interest shown heavily. He wanted to be at every practice, practice game, mini tournament or competition or even if it was a little toss about in the park. He was always interested.

Even when you were getting a ball to the face or completely missing the ball on your spikes, Kageyama always was invested. Although he didn’t fully know about the sport, whenever you were feeling down or wanted to rant about the problems that involved volleyball he was always there to listen. Making Kageyama the best boyfriend.

What made him either better was in moments like these. Your team just got off the bus and you felt like you were going to throw up your insides. But you saw kageyama standing outside the entrance of the stadium with a small smile on his face and yoghurt in his hand.

“Tobio!” You exclaim wrapping him in a hug.

“Hi Y/N, are you ready for the game?” he asked making you even more anxious.

“No, I feel like I'm going to throw up,” you say with a frown “I think I need to go to the bathroom...”

“Y/N you’ll be fine, eat this it’ll keep your stamina up.” he said handing you the yoghurt.

“Oooh it seems someone's been keeping up with their health facts.” you say teasingly

“Oh, shut up dumbass.” he said squishing your head “But anyways, you shouldn’t worry because although you are lacking in most of the basic skills that are apparently required for volleyball, the way you play exceeds all that and I’ve seen your hard work and efforts and they’ll definitely play off in this match....as long as you manage to not get hit in the face with the ball.” he jokes at the end.

“Oh shusssh” you say playfully hit in his side “But thank you, Tobio I’ll try my best, especially for you.” you kiss him on the cheek leaving him blushing and frozen as you skip off with your team inside.

The game was great, all your serves manage to go over the net and for the time you played for you did great. You and the setter were working in tandem, you hitting every one of their tosses and scoring many points. Kageyama was cheering loudly in the audience, making you smile every time he said your name you were filled with more confidence reminding you of something he said to you a while ago “As long as I'm with you, I'm the greatest,” which showed you more proof of Kageyamas pride over you as having you as his s/o.

You obviously win the game and Kageyama could never be happier. You spent the rest of the night going over the whole game that Kageyama recorded (in full soccer mum likeness.) With Kageyama singing your praises and your faults every time.

AN: I had fun writing this one.... and if you notice I kind of related Y/N to some particular haikyu boys in each scenario jiihesjkhdf but yh i hope you enjoy.

294 notes · View notes

cuquitalocita · 3 years

Text

i love you yeah yeah yeah |rowaelin month- day 3|

rowaelin masterlist

an: i’m not gonna lie, i had so so much fun writing this one! i’m a tennis player and my sister is as well, therefore why i know so much about the junior pro league. for those of you who don’t know, the orange bowl is an actual tournament played internationally for juniors and i’m ranting wow so anyway i hope this isn’t too tennis vocab-y :)

word count: 3,876

It’s the final two days before competition at the International Orange Bowl this year being held in Terrasen and it’s no surprise that tensions between players and academies are more than high. We’re so glad to be here for yet another year of thrilling competition in which the winners will automatically be placed into the first round of the U.S. Open. I, for one, and more than excited to see some new teen faces this year, what about you, Gavriel?

You know Cairn, I completely agree and as someone from Terrasen, you must be more than excited to see some friendly competition on your home turf.

Oh, I sure am excited, but I don’t know if you’d call this competition exactly ‘friendly.’ For those of you unaware, the rivalry between the TAT (Tennis Academy of Terrasen) and the DTC (Doranelle Tennis Center) has been going on for close to ten years now, beginning all the way back to when founders Maeve Vesta and Evalin Galathynius were in college, rivals through and through. Now adults, their children carry on their competitive legacy, taking the nation by storm. If you see the final match of any tournament, you can bet your money it’s a Doranelle kid and a Terrasen kid.

The stakes sure are high during this tournament, as it isn’t closed, like the academies’ usual ones. Instead, anyone player eighteen years old and younger with the qualifying points was eligible to register. I’m looking forward to seeing some new faces this year.

Me too, but you can never go wrong with the usual suspects. This year, my money is on eighteen year- old Rowan Whitethorn from Doranelle, ranked second in the country, in the men’s finals. As Maeve’s nephew, Rowan has been put in the spotlight for most of his life, not to mention taking a clear leadership role among the DTC alongside Lorcan Salvaterre.

That’s a good point, Gavriel, in the past years Rowan has made it to at least the quarter-finals but has always lost before he can truly do. I have a feeling the kid has a lot more in him. And as for the women, I wouldn’t be too surprised to see the Terrasen seventeen year- old cruising through a few rounds before her tough competition starts. We can’t expect anything less than Evalin Galathynius’ daughter, right?

I for one, am more than excited for pre- first-round interviews. It’s always quite interesting to see each players’ mindset before they set out for blood.

“What do you think our favorite golden girl has in store for us this year, Gavriel? Something tells me she’s a little more than annoyed given what happened at the finals of the last international tournament held in Terassen when Remelle Frost from the Doranelle academy beat her in what was the biggest upset of the season.”

Aelin rolled her eyes and glared at the back of her mother’s seat, the woman in question frowning as the annoying voice of Cairn Rossa rang through the rental car. She reached forward to turn the station off just as Gavriel’s voice rang out once more.

“Let’s not beat around the bush here, Cairn,” the older man was responding. “I’ve been doing this just a bit longer than you enough to know when a player isn’t themselves. One loss isn’t the definition of a player the same way one win isn’t either. I suggest both teams- including Aelin and Remelle themselves- step onto the court, and play.”

Aelin let out a satisfied huff. She knew she had always liked Gavriel. Aelin liked that the man looked at the players as more than just players in a video game or statistics on a screen. As a former player himself, Aelin knew the man understood the game in and out and was more than qualified to report during the national tournaments, no matter where he was born and what side he was essentially placed on.

The station was snapped off as her mother’s finger found the correct button, earning an annoyed glare from the Uber driver next to her that she promptly ignored in favor of turning back to her daughter, opening her mouth to say something. Aelin’s own eyes stared back at her before shifting down to the phone she held in her hand. It had just buzzed signaling a new notification that had her mother lifting her brows.

Aelin immediately shifted forward in an attempt to look over her mother’s should before her hand was on her face, batting her daughter away with a motherly ‘leave me alone’ look. She relented, leaning back into her seat with slumped shoulders. Finally, her mother huffed but remained with her back facing Aelin.

She knew it was different this year, she could practically feel it in the air. Without her father with the two women in the car, the tournament atmosphere was a different universe.

It was getting dark outside, the sun setting behind them as they drove through the dazzling city. The car came to an abrupt stop in front of the hotel that sent Aelin jerking out of her own thoughts. Her mother turned back to her with a sad knowing smile and patted her daughter’s knee.

“We’re here. Try to get some sleep- you have a long day tomorrow.”

“What’s the plan for today?” Aelin asked her mother around a mouthful of bagel the next morning. It wasn’t every day the founder of the University came to watch her players in a tournament, but whoever won this won would be fed into the first round of an official professional tournament. It would be amazing PR for the academy, Aelin knew, but she also knew her mother felt bad that her father had escorted Aelin to all of her tournaments in prior years. And now that he wasn’t here anymore…

“Eat up- after you’re done I’ve reserved three courts at the complex and we’ll get together with everyone.” ‘Everyone’ being every other players from the academy who had enough points to enter the qualifiers. Not all of them were as highly ranked as Aelin, but she found it helpful to train with them all the same. They were her friends. “We do need to pick Lysandra up from the airport first though,” she said as she frowned at her phone. “Her flight was supposed to have landed a few minutes ago but she hasn’t reached out…”

Aelin rolled her eyes at her mother, she always did have a thing with protectiveness over her best friend.

“Mom, don’t worry about it,” Aelin assured her. “Aed said he would pick her up and then meet us at the courts. I wouldn’t want to be in that car if I were you.” She faked a gag, causing her mother to laugh.

“Alright then. Eat, find your rackets, and take the rental to the courts. It was just delivered this morning. I have some business to finish here at the hotel.” She left Aelin with a kiss to the head.

It didn’t take long for Aelin to pull up to the familiar yet daunting tennis complex bigger than even the academy, and she pushed the car into park, simply staring for a moment.

This was it.

Three years she had come close to winning as the youngest person in history. So close. But this was the year. This was her year. She could do this. She would do this.

And so Aelin Galathynius pushed her shoulders back and raised her chin as she grabbed her massive tennis bag from the trunk and slung it over her shoulders. The weight was heavy and familiar as she walked through the glass double doors and to the front desk, only to halt in her tracks when she came face to face with a familiar head of silver hair.

Rowan Whitethorn.

She had quite often mused about how unfair it was that her essential biggest rival was so attractive. It didn’t really make hating him very fair, now did it? But there he stood, green eyes shining and teeth flashing as he snapped something at the young man at the desk. The poor boy looked ready to pee himself and Aelin couldn’t help but release a sharp laugh, causing both Rowan and the blonde next to him to whip around.

Aelin watched as Rowan’s eyes sparked and his mouth curved into a sneer as he took her in from head to toe. She forced herself still and kept her eyes on his face. It was all she could do. Rowan opened his mouth and Aelin prepared her hackles to rise instantly.

“Aelin. Good to see you here.” But it wasn’t Rowan who spoke. No, it was Remelle Frost, her least favorite bottle blonde on the planet that spoke as she curled a possessive hand over Rowan’s bicep. Aelin simply rolled her eyes, never one to beat around the bush. It was common knowledge that the blondes didn’t like each other. And after the Adarlan tournament, Aelin wouldn’t hide her disdain for the girl.

“Wish I could say the same,” she replied dismissively as she shouldered past Rowan and made for the front desk. One charming smile and the boy seemed to handle her much better than Rowan. She gave him her mother’s name, him quickly nodding a confirmation and giving her the court numbers, saying they would be available in just a moment.

She turned around, unsurprised to see Rowan glaring at the back of her head. It had been almost eight years of this rivalry. At least for them. Aelin thought it might’ve been a little ridiculous, considering that it started with her mother and his aunt, but the Doranelle kids just made it so easy to hate them. So easy to want to pound them on and off the court. She wouldn’t apologize for the adrenaline the rivalry provided her with.

Aelin smirked, cocking her hip. “Like what you see?”

“Hardly,” he growled. “Just wondering whether or not you actually came to play this time.”

Aelin recognized the comment for what it was- a direct jab to the last tournament where she had lost to Remelle. If the comment hadn’t pissed her off so much she would’ve recognized the compliment for what it was.

“Well, that depends which game you’re talking about, Whitethorn.” Her voice was just teasing enough to annoy him once more, and Aelin’s grin grew.

“Don’t you have a court to go find?” Remelle cut in from beside Rowan, who had distanced himself from her. Aelin didn’t blame him. She wanted to do the same thing.

“And here I was enjoying our little chat. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, mar sin leat.”

“This isn’t Terrasen,” Remelle hissed. “We say ‘good luck’ here. Gods, you Terrasen kids are pieces of-”

Someone caught her by the waist as Aelin attempted to throw herself at the girl and she was soon spun around in their arms, coming face to face with her own eyes. Aedion’s were flashing too as his eyes were fixed behind her, no doubt at Rowan.

“Leave it, Ace, it’s not worth it.”

“It’s true, princess,” Rowan finally spoke with a sneer. “You’re gonna need those pretty little hands tomorrow. Wouldn’t want you to have an excuse when you get your ass kicked.”

“Oh, I’ll show you-”

Aedion dragged her away before she could get another word out, her fists clenched and her teeth bared. She shoved him when he put her down.

“Fucking Doranelle,” Aedion spat under his breath as he shook his head.

He merely gestured to a figure behind her, causing Aelin to whip around with wide eyes. Shit. Duke Perrington grinned at her through the snake-eyed lens of his camera and gave her a tiny wave as she bared her teeth at him

Perfect. Now it would look like Terrasen had begun a fight before the tournament even began.

Her mother was going to kill her.

Aelin felt like the stadium had never been bigger. She had known this year she would be playing where the professionals themselves did, including Maeve and her mother, but never in a million years had it looked so daunting or made her feel so small.

The tournament had been, well needless to say, easy for Aelin so far. She had breezed through her first few matches, absolutely destroying the poor girls, and her third had been straight sets as well. But now it was the semis. And she would have to face Remelle on center court. It seemed the gods liked playing jokes on Aelin Galathynius.

She could feel every pair of eyes snap to hers the moment she stepped onto the court but she looked forward. Maybe she was a crowd favorite- but that would do her no favors in the upcoming match. Aelin thought she was going to hurl all over her new shoes and she let the deafening cheering of the audience cover the sound of her pounding heart.

Remelle walked in not long after she and Aelin met her in the middle of the court, racket in hand. Showtime.

Aelin might have been paying attention when the coin had been flipped, might have been minimally involved when she called heads or when she won the call and opted to serve first. She might have been only slightly aware of her surroundings as she took a small sip of her water and walked to the back of the court.

And then it was movement.

It was backward and forwards, side to side, low and high, and it was the same dance Aelin knew better than anything. The same feeling in her feet when she sprinted to the ball and the same stretch of muscles when she reached for a shot. This was who she was- this was the pattern she had lived for ten years.

But it didn’t seem to matter, not as the score continued to tip less and less in her favor with every passing point. She was playing well- but Remelle was playing better. And there was nothing Aelin could do but survive and ignore the satisfied smirks the other girl would throw her during their side changes.

Think, Aelin, think.

Nothing was coming to her head. All she could hear was the pounding adrenaline through her body telling her to play. To cross each bridge when she came to it. There was nothing more she could do than play.

It was then, when Aelin threw herself at a particularly difficult ball, that she felt something shift. And she knew she was screwed.

Aelin was a tennis player- she had rolled her ankle before. But this was different. It had never hurt this bad. And as the rest of her body came down with her ankle, she thought that it could be it. That it was the end of the match all due to a stupid ankle injury.

With her heart in her throat, Aelin signaled to the red- headed umpire.

Injury, she mouthed to her, and the woman- Ansel, it seemed her name was- simply nodded. She was in the massive locker room without a second thought, dragging out a spare bucket of ice held in one of the corners of the room and shoved her foot it. Might as well get it over with.

Aelin winced as the ice on her foot began to take effect and her muscles began to ache, her breathing beginning to lose its consistency. Gods, she hated this. She hated the useless feeling that came over her at the thought of possibly being unable to finish the match. At the thought of all the people, she would be letting down.

She was tired. Aelin was so, so tired.

Gods, she just needed-

The door to the locker room burst open with a loud and abrupt clang, causing Aelin to jerk forward, spilling water on the ground as she opened her mouth. She was ready to tell them that she needed some privacy before her eyes locked onto a familiar figure that sent her heart pounding for a different reason.

“Rowan, you can’t be in here!”

The hulking boy ignored her protests, striding over her in no more than a few steps, both of his hands immediately going to the base of her neck to search her gaze with his own worried one, clearly not caring that he was in the girl’s locker room and would be kicked out of the tournament if he was found.

“Are you alright?” he insisted, his voice low and hoarse, forest eyes intense.

The gentleness in which he touched her had Aelin sighing and her hands reached up to lightly take hold of his wrists, bringing them down and gathering them in her own hands to hold to her chest.

She hadn’t meant to fall for Rowan Whitethorn.

But like everything in her life, it had happened quickly and unexpectedly, and Aelin had dealt with it head-on. It had been a year now. An entire year of playing tournaments in each other’s home’s just so they could see each other. Just so no suspicion was be aroused by the tabloids.

And Aelin hated it.

All she wanted to do was be able to link her hand through Rowan’s in public without causing a public scandal about a decade-long rivalry.

“I’m okay, you fussy buzzard,” she teased as she looked at him, pleased to see when the frown on his lips twitched the slightest bit upward. “It was just a little fall. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

But because he knew her so well, he had heard the uncertainty and fear in her voice as she spoke. So saying nothing, he pulled Aelin to his chest and allowed his arms to wrap around her completely, enveloping her in the scent that she had considered home for months.

And as she breathed him in, she wished home wasn’t always so godsdamned far.

Rowan let her breathe shakily into his chest, constantly running a soothing hand up and down her back as he hummed a small melody that he often did to get her to sleep over the phone at night. Aelin was the first person to admit it was much better in person.

“You don’t have to do it, Aelin,” he said finally, his movements never ceasing. “You don’t owe them anything.”

She knew who he was referring to of course, of the people who had come to watch the new ‘upcoming star’ in action and were expecting to see quite the show. They were the people Aelin had been trained to want to impress.

Aelin pulled back to tilt her chin up and look him in the eyes.

“I can’t just quit, Rowan. I won’t.”

“You have nothing to prove, Fireheart.” And Aelin almost broke as he used the nickname her father had. “Not to anyone.”

She shook her head, helplessness seeping through her body more and more as she looked at the boy in front of her. The pain in her ankle was even worse now. Unsurprisingly, he noticed, and his calloused hands moved to her wrists as he lead her back over to the bucket of ice water.

He kneeled down in front of the bench as she sat down and placed her foot in the water, wincing along with her even after she threw a glare at him.

I don’t see you with a foot in ice.

Seeing you in pain is enough to hurt me, his eyes gazed back playfully. Aelin rolled her eyes, quickly shutting them as another shock of pain rushed through her body, making her inhale sharply.

Her boyfriend frowned once more, clearly upset he could do nothing to help her. So he gathered her hands in his own, bringing them to his face to place a gentle kiss on them, pulling an unwitting smile from Aelin.

“I love you,” she said quietly. Rowan met her soft gaze for a moment before Aelin leaned forward, capturing his lips with hers in a kiss she hoped said everything she couldn’t. Thank you, I don’t know what I would do without you. I wish we weren’t a secret.

“I love you too, Fireheart.”

She would never get sick of hearing him say that. Of hearing the utter truth in his words.

Rowan was watching her with that adoring look he reserved only for her, his face open so she could see every emotion playing across his face. It only made her want to kiss him again.

So she did, although this time he met her halfway, taking her chin lightly between two fingers and tilting it up so he could kiss her thoroughly as her hands rested at the base of his neck, lightly twirling the pieces of soft hair she found there.

They sat there for a while, simply kissing, enjoying the feeling of each other’s lips and proximity when it was so few and far between, and Aelin relished in the feeling of loving someone who loved her back. In the feeling of not having to act.

When she accidentally tugged at a knot in his hair, Rowan pulled away with a painful groan and a nip to her bottom lip, causing Aelin to laugh and push his cheek away with two fingers.

“Sorry, Buzzard,” she laughed as Rowan stood up, with a playful glare. He folded his arms in front of him and it was only then that Aelin remembered she had a foot inside of a bucket of ice. And her medical time out was running out. “Shit. I have to go.”

Aelin jumped into action, taking her foot out of the ice with a hiss and grabbing a towel as Rowan maneuvered himself around her to find her shoes and socks. Apparently he had understood her message loud and clear about her intentions on forfeiting the match or not- he wasn’t stupid enough to argue with her.

Quickly enough, Aelin was good as new- well, as new as she could be with a half swollen ankle.

“Well,” she dropped her arms to her sides and turned to her boyfriend. “How do I look?”

“Like an idiot who shouldn’t be playing.”

“Or…?” she arched a brow. Rowan sighed and stepped toward her, his hands bracing both of her arms as he leaned forward to press an earnest kiss to her forehead.

“Or Terrasen’s champion,” he murmured against her skin.

Aelin grinned, a wicked and feral smile that meant she was ready to raise hell.

“Now that’s more like it.”

If someone had asked Aelin to regale the crowd with details of her match after she had come out victorious, she would have been unable to do so. Because all she remembered was the pounding of her feet on the ground, and the neon color of the tennis ball, and the feeling of her heart palpitating in her chest.

Oh, and of course she couldn’t forget the moment after her match- winning shot, when every care and inhibition had left her in one foul swoop. When she had sprinted over to the stands and thrown herself into the arms of the silver- haired enemy, delighting in his deep laughter..

And kissed him in the middle of the stadium for all to see.

this prompt was: secret dating

taglist:

@story-scribbler

@rowaelinismyotp

@live-the-fangirl-life

@claralady

@surielandiareendgame

#aelin galythinius #rowan whitethorn #aelin #rowan #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #rowaelin #rowaelin fic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin au #rowaelin modern au #tog #sjm #throne of glass #rowaelin month

79 notes · View notes

neoheros · 4 years

Text

sneaking out headcanons feat. gym 3 squad ♡ — also this is all gonna be set in an au before or without the quarantine, so don’t leave your house please!! social distancing is important and people are dying!!

kuroo tetsuro

listen LISTEN

sneaking out is terrible and you should never do it because it’s dangerous and risky

and you as the woke and understanding gen z that you are definitely respected that

but , BUT , BUUUUT !

the minute your boyfriend snapped you a photo of him in his car with him rubbing his tired eyes captioned “couldn’t sleep, dreamt of u”

your morals were OUT THE WINDOW and now it was your turn >:// !!!

kuroo: i know it’s 4 am but what’re the chances you’d hop out for a quick trip to chick-fil-a 👉👈

you, purposely taking two minutes to reply: why are you still awake

kuroo, who knows you like the back of his hand: babe don’t lie to me, it’s embarrassing for the both of us x

so you agree !! because it was kuroo, the love of your life, the man you’d simp for, and he’s paying for food so hell fricken yeah

you throw on a hoodie, lock your doors, fluff up the bed to make it look like someone was sleeping in it just in case and you gently make your way towards your window

due to personal reasons, you want to pass away

you suddenly remember why you hated sneaking out and boy — the food kuroo was buying you better be worth it

the only way you were actually gonna get down from your two story house that idiotically doesn’t have a roof ledge was if you grab onto the tv satellite that latched by the sill

from your window you see kuroo’s car parked by the trash cans near your house and he’s got his windshield down signaling at you

mfer pulled out his phone from his pocket and waved as he zooms closer to your figure and he SMILED ?

you were in a dilemma?? and he had the audacity???? the fricken audacity???

kuroo, snapping you the vid he took: babe please you’re so cute you look like a tiny gremlin

you: had me in the first half, not gonna lie

it was a MOMENT for you !! but you just say what the hell and go for it anyways because you only live once apparently and sneaking out with your boyfriend at 4 am was better than sleeping

you grab onto the satellite ridge and you pray for mercy that it doesn’t make a sound or loosen up because if anyone found out you were doing this it was definitely kuroo’s ass on the line

while you’re struggling to get down, kuroo’s just in the car ??? laughing his ass off at your current state and you swear that he’s still taking photos

you get down on the cement safely and instead of him pulling up closer to your drive way naaaah he makes you walk to where he was at 😤

you, getting in the car: if i dump you by the end of tonight, just know that the only reason why i didn’t do it sooner is because i wanted food

kuroo, putting on your seatbelt: we’ll get back together in the morning, i’m not worried

so the two of you make your way to chick-fil-a, get food via drivethru and eat in the parking lot with the doors open and the windows down

he still looks very tired and before you even realize it it’s already 6 in the morning

you catch him yawn every few minutes and he always reassures you that he didn’t mind staying up this late :(

he’s baby

kuroo: lets get you home, are you gonna dump me yet?

you, kissing his cheek: no, i kinda love you

kuroo, less sleepy with a lazy smile on his face: aha simp

tsukishima kei

bro if you think he’s a goody two shoes boy who won’t ask you to sneak out at like 2 in the morning , you are so wrong

canonically, he is the most devious and logical character in the entire anime and if he wants to go out with you before the crack of dawn — he fricken will !!

he’s gonna be so sly about it too, nah, he gon make you think it’s your idea to sneak out

tsukki, texting you a tiktok of homemade shrimp rotini at 2:35 am: look what yamaguchi sent me

yamaguchi, who fell asleep three hours ago and absolutely is not in any state to send tiktoks:

so you’re there like ??????

bruv you were just tryna scroll through your twitter feed in peace, why the hell would he send you that like that’s so uncool

because now you were sleep deprived and hungry

you, close to tears: does your house in hell have a pool or

tsukishima, unnerved: i don’t like the concept of swimming

he’s gonna go on about how he didn’t realize what he did and how he’s kinda sorry for waking your hunger but you weren’t born yesterday !! you smelled BS !!

so you facetime him, ready to go off on how unsorry he is and you can already imagine the shit eating grin he must’ve had on

he answers after three rings and he’s in a MFING yellow hoodie with the dinosaur print in the middle, his hair neatly tucked and you just know that he’s got his keys on his fingertips

you, defeated: i’ve been played

tsukishima, heading out the front door: i deny all accusations

you’re not even upset though because this was a perfect opportunity to try the stability of your roof ledge and tbh? who wasn’t unreasonably hungry at 3 am

turns out climbing out your window was harder than you thought and you may or may not have gotten two new bruises on your wrist just by trying

safe to assume that you fell on your ass and since the universe has a particular hatred towards you, your boyfriend arrived at the perfect time to witness all of it

tsukishima: how are you gonna kiss me when you’re too busy kissing the ground

you, tears on your cheeks: if i wanted a bully instead of a boyfriend i would’ve SAID SO

when you get in his car, the first thing he does is ask if you’re okay though and he’s checking your wrists and hands for any scratches or bleeding because 🥺

tsukki: you’re such a clumsy idiot what the hell

tsukki, kicking down the pavement when you’re not paying attention: 💢🪓

you guys end up going to numerous places because most of the drivethrus in town were already closed

you see him get tired behind the steering wheel and you almost have the urge to offer to drive but you didn’t really feel like crashing his car any day soon so

you: lets just head to starbucks hm? get some coffee?

tsukishima, feeling bad because he knows you wanted to get food: we don’t have to

you, in love with him: if you say no i will willingly walk all the way to starbucks by myself , what , you think i won’t do it

so you guys go there and order a couple double shot espressos with a side of scones and muffins and the entire time you’re just trying not to shiver because name one starbucks you’ve been to that hasn’t been unreasonably cold huh i dare you

he notices this and he gives you his hoodie and ITS JUST THE SOFTEST THING OKAY BECAUSE HE’S COLD TOO BUT HE JUST WANTS YOU WARM

you: i knew it, you love me too huh 😌

tsukishima: unfortunately so

akaashi keiji

AKAASHI IS LEGALLY THE BEST BOYFRIEND IN THE WORLD !!

like he cannot be a bad boyfriend ?? it’s impossible for him to be so ?????? he’s just built that way ????

he’s the ultimate mixture of respect and self love , god was just like “let’s make this one perfect !!”

he’s DRIPPING in love each other juice and he eats kindness for breakfast so ha !

he physically cannot say no to you because he flat out adores you

( except when he feels like you’re wrong or being irrational to which he’ll politely correct you and educate you because that’s on what? that’s on having a healthy relationship ♡ )

so when you hit him up at 5:23 in the morning after a series of tiktoks that he has yet to see and react to you about, he’s kinda alarmed

but then again he’s also not ?? because let’s face it, at this point, he’s used to you spamming his inbox

the last thing you sent him two minutes ago was a text saying “bro just imagine this: you and me at a maccas drivethru with two oreo flurry’s and a box of 20 piece chicken nuggets — immaculate”

and you didn’t really expect him to reply?

it was five am and you were absolutely shit talking but when you saw his face time status go online you were just like ?????

akaashi, snapping you a pic of him under his covers with very tired eyes: it’s 5:27 am

you, sending him back a photo of you and the 2000 piece puzzle you spent the last two hours doing: that’s not a no 💅

he doesn’t reply and you’re not really upset by it because he probably just fell asleep and that was really cute to you so !!

but then two minutes later he’s facetiming you and you JUMP at the sudden ringing

he’s all tired and his voice is groggy and tight but he’s still smiling as he says “i’ll see you in ten”

YOU ARE !!!! PUMPED !!!!!

you won the boyfriend lottery , holy hell

now the only thing keeping you from seeing your man and the mcdonald’s sign was the eleven foot gap between your window and the solid concrete

you’d usually take the stairs but you just know that your mom would absolutely murder you for trying to sneak out when you should be asleep 💆‍♀️

it was either climbing out by clawing through the pipes or not being able to give akaashi a hug and you were not gonna let that second one happen

akaashi, after reading your two paragraph rant on how unnatural it was for your window to be that high: please be careful

you, haven’t slept in 32 hours: screw careful ! i embody elegance !!

in which elegance was screaming every time your pipes squeaked because dear mercy you did not want to die yet

akaashi, who just pulled up your drive way and is now seeing you almost fall to the ground:

you, on the verge of tears: please catch me

AND he does 🥺

it was a close call and he barely even made it to you when you chose to let go but HE DID ANYWAYS

you kinda fell on him rather than landing smoothly in his arms but that’s okay you were just glad you didn’t die

when you both get in his car, he just takes a hot sec to dust you off and ask if you’re okay and he’s so concerned please tell him you’re fine

he’s such a baby please i can’t believe this shit

the two of you end up in a mcdonald’s parking lot with doja cat blaring on the radio and you guys do your best to hold back your laughter as you eat

it was pretty cold and the sun was rising but honestly you couldn’t find the urge to care since the moment just felt so surreal

you: i’m sorry for waking you btw 🥺

akaashi, showing you his new lock screen which is the picture he took of you when he first saw you climb out the window:

you: i’m less sorry

bokuto koutaro

BOYFRIEND OF THE MFING YEAR

i accept no arguments, go cry about it

i literally don’t care what anyone has to say, bokuto is the only man ever ? he’s so deserving of every right on earth i’ll cry

the way that this is the third night in a row he’s stayed up til 4 am and he’s not even alarmed about it

like at this point he’s just accepted that he is nocturnal and that’s that on that !

before he actually had the idea to ask you to sneak out for him, he debated whether or not it was worth it

you needed sleep and you barely got any so when he knew you were resting he absolutely refused to message you :(

but then he also thought about how you would love to have a large dunkin iced coffee right now

and he was already getting ready for his morning fix so why not just ask harmlessly?

if you weren’t going to respond then he’d be okay with that because he knew that you were resting well

but if you were going to answer his consecutive texts with a positive reply then HE IS 🥺 over the moon

you, barely awake: can we get a venti triple shot latté instead , my caffeine tolerance is SHOT

bokuto, snapping you back within a minute: babe you are delusional if you think i’m gonna let you drink that

so it’s 5 am and your parents are in the other room asleep but you know that their jobs start pretty early so you had to get a move on

your room wasn’t that high from the ground to be honest, so you weren’t really worried about falling off

what you were worried about was how dizzy and out of depth the melatonin gummies made you because in order to fall asleep you took 3 and now that you basically forced yourself out of a self induced coma, your body was on the verge of passing away

bokuto tells you that he doesn’t mind if you’re not up for the trip and he’d just bring you back your coffee BUT NAH

you’re not a quitter 🤬 you miss your boyfriend and you are gonna do whatever it takes to spend some quality morning time with him !!!!!

so you throw on a proper outfit, make your way through your window and gently do your best to refrain from yelping every time your hand would slip from the railing that’s keeping your balance

bokuto, pulling up seeing you on your roof: you’re so strong 🥺👉👈

you, barely alive: all for you baby ❤️

he helps you get down from where you stood and he had the prettiest smile on earth i SWEAR when you immediately sank in his cold chest

he apologizes for making you sneak out like that BUT NUH UH YOU DO NOT LET HIM

he is a gift !!! and you knew how tired he must’ve been too since he kept yawning but he still took the time and energy to pick you up 🥺

he fastens your seatbelt in the car and puts the windows up because he knew that the air would get in your face and you didn’t like that

he even brought you a spare hoodie of his because he remembered how much you swooned over this particular fabric

bokuto: we’ll get you some coffee but you can sleep while i drive, ok babe?

you, trying not to cry: are you single because i really want to kiss you

bokuto, kissing your cheek: i’m dating someone i’m sorry

3K notes · View notes

boobz-fye · 3 years

Text

Comforting them after losing a game

Includes: Oikawa Tooru, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Kageyama Tobio, and Keiji Akaashi x G/N reader.

Warnings: the boys doubting themselves and cursing(I think I only said one bad word in kageyamas but whatever)

Rant: Ok, I feel like this post is actual shit. Like I say that about almost all of my posts- but this one is very bad. The only good one is Ushijimas I think, so I hope I do all of the characters a little justice tho. Also sorry that I haven't been posting much (for like two weeks) I have been very busy, and been dealing with writer's block. I will try and post something else some time next week. Think it's gonna be fluff for MHA tho. Anyways, HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS!!!!!

Oikawa Tooru~

It all happened too fast. He could have sworn that they were just in the lead, ahead of Shiratorizawa by two points. He was so close to beating them. And now what is he going to say to you, or the team? He promised all of you that they will win this only to not fulfill it. Slowly dragging his feet out of the gym, Oikawa starts to feel tears building up in his vision. ‘No you can't cry right now.’ Oikawa thinks as he starts to pick up a pace. Maybe this is all just a bad dream and he will wake up soon.. Yeah that sounds right. He can wake up and have a fresh start of the day, win against Shiratorizawa, then celebrate with his team mates, and to top it all off go over your house and cuddle the whole night. Oh how lovely that sounds, only if that wasn't another fantasy planted in his head.

Overwhelmed with emotions Oikawa finally comes out of the locker rooms, only to see you sitting on the floor. “What are you still doing here baby?” You look up to see Oikawa putting on a fake smile that makes your heart break. “Come here..” You say rising to a standing position, with your arms open and welcoming. Oikawa doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you, and be consumed by your warmth. “You did amazing out there handsome.” Those few words made Oikawa feel butterflies in his stomach. The only thing that could make him feel better were your praises. But he still couldn't help the small ache in his chest, remembering that he promised everyone that they would win this game and make it to nationals. “If I did good then why didn't we win?” He says with a slight crack in his voice, making an ache of your own spread through your chest. “Maybe it was just luck. You were only off by one point, plus if it makes you feel better you'll be able to beat their ass in spring!” A breathy chuckle escaped from Oikawa's mouth, causing a grin to form on your face. “You're right baby, we will beat them in spring.”

Ushijima Wakatoshi~

Ushijima wasn't used to losing. The reality didn't hit him until he heard the opposing teams audience cheer. Looking over to the scoreboard when he hears the whistle being blown, only to see that his team has lost. A bitter taste settles on Ushijima’s tongue. But he is once again pulled out of his thoughts by a hand resting on his shoulder. He turns around to see his team standing behind him with a look of true defeat. “C’mon Ushijima, we have to line up” Tendou says with a tone a little different from his usual cheery one. Not knowing what to say Ushijima just grunts with a small nod.

Walking outside of the gym Ushijima starts to replay the game in his head to try and see where they went wrong, but soon was interrupted by some arms wrapping around him from behind. “Hi bubs.” you say nuzzling your head into his back. “Hello Y/N.” “Soooo…” you try to think of what to say that will make Ushijima feel better, but it's hard to do so when he can be very blunt at some points and not understand what you are trying to get at. “Yes?” Ushijima says tugging at the sleeve of your jacket to gain your attention back to him. “How are you feeling after the game?” There is a little moment of silence that comes over the two of you causing a slight panic cloud in your mind, because what if he took your question the wrong way- “I don’t know how to feel about losing, I'm upset because we put a lot of effort in that game just to lose. But they won fairly, so I guess that just shows that we weren't good enough.” Ushijima states bluntly. You're kind of taken back by his answer, but notice how his eyes show more emotion than his words. You could tell that he was more than just upset. “Don't say that Ushijima, you guys did amazing out there. You guys were only off by a couple points!” You say as you take Ushijima’s hand into your own. “But still we tried our best and it wasn't enough.” You felt his hands tremble a little in your touch, looking at him with a soft gaze you say “I'm sorry bub, you will get them next time though, I know you will because you are good enough.” Ushijima nods and mumbles a thank you, while gently squeezing your hand. It's times like this, when Ushijima shows you his vulnerable side, that you hold dear to your heart.

Kageyama Tobio~

Kageyama dreaded feeling the pain in his chest after losing a game. He would never get used to it, and doesn't really care enough too anyways. Maybe if he didn't send the ball to Hinata, knowing that the idiot will just close his eyes, then they could have won. But even then Oikawa’s tricky serves would still be a pain to work around. Not to mention how fast the whole team learns their opponents weaknesses. Kageyama had gotten so lost in his thoughts that he forgot he had to meet up with you at a cafe in 6 mins. Today seems to just get worse and worse by the second and he doesn't know if he will be able to keep himself together for much longer.

You hear the bell on the cafe door ring, causing you to turn around and see that all too familiar face. Kageyama walks over to you and takes his seat. Only when he finally looks up you notice that he is panting. “Did you run all the way here kags?” “Yeah, would have been late if I didn't.” Kageyama never liked being late to anything that has to do with you, it makes him feel guilty, and he doesn't want to add upsetting you to the list of shitty things that have happened today. “I'm ok with you being a little late baby, especially when you just got back from your game…” Kageyeama drops his gaze back down to the table remembering that was the first game you got to see him play in just for them to lose, how embarrassing- “Sorry, I didn't mean to bring it up.” you say rubbing the back of your neck. “It's ok….” “Look at the menu and pick what you want, it's on me!” Kageyama shoots his head up and stares at you with wide eyes “Idiot im not letting you pay.” He mumbles while a blush spreads across his face. “Aww c'mon babe I can pay, let me get you some comfort food!” “Comfort food?” “Yeah food always helps me with stress” Before Kageyama could think over his next words, his mouth and brain betrayed him. “I think cuddles would make me feel better.” Both of you are taken back by his words, Kageyama was always so stubborn, forcing you to pick up hints from his behavior and piece them together to know what he wants. But you don't mind the forwardness; it helps you get straight to the point. Kageyama on the other hand is freaking out, he doesn't know if he was being too blunt or not, and your silence is not helping. “Never mind… forget what I said” “Whattttt, that sucks cause I was going to say yes but since you insist.” “Shut up, we can head over to mine after eating, the meal that I will be paying for, and cuddle. Now pick what you want already I don't have all day.” “Sir yes sir!” You say with a salute. “Dont do that you look dumb” Kageyama says, while trying to supress a grin. “You're so meannnnn” You whine with a pout. Even though Kageyama is teasing you the only thing you seem to be able to focus on is the way he starts to let loose and laugh around you. And when you look into his eyes all you see is love, not a trace of sorrow.

Akaashi Keiji~

It's only been a few minutes since the tragic game has ended and akaashi is already past the limit of stress he can handle. From the fact that they actually lost a game, while also trying to encourage the team and tell them that they will do better next time, and also trying to help bokuto get out of emo mode akaashi was starting to get a headache and wanted to just go home to sulk and attempt to relax. So once when he gets out of the shower akaashi throws on some clothes and runs out the locker room to the front gate. Not expecting you to be there waiting for him.

As Akaashi approaches the front gate he sees you standing there alone. “Y/N, what are you doing here? It's getting late.” “I know, I just wanted to check up on you” Akaashi looks into your worried eyes, causing him to feel a little guilt. Is he the cause of the expression on your face? “Oh well then can I walk you home?” You nod in approval, letting him take your hand and lead the way. A comfortable silence takes over the two of you, but you still can't help but feel like something is still off about Akaashi today, and none of his fake smiles and replies will put this thought at ease. “Hey Akaashi?” “Yes?” you stay silent for a little trying to think of the right words to say. “You know you guys did amazing at the game today right?” Akaashi hums in response, as the hold on your hand becomes a little shaky. “Good, because it's the truth. Just don't beat yourself up about it, you're great at what you do. Even though you guys didn't win I know you are still deserving of it. The only reason your opponents had a chance, was because of the chance balls. Plus you and your team have way more chemistry with each other then they did, it's almost like all of you can read each other's minds… Sorry I was rambling again.” Akaashi turns around and stares at you this time with a real smile on his face. “It's ok love, I think it's cute when you run your mouth. Now why don't we head over to your house instead? I want you to help me get rid of my stress, ok?” “And how can I help you with that?” Akkashi brings your hand towards his lips and gives it a quick kiss. “Cuddles of course, and let me eat whatever food you got in your house.” Akaashi says with a wink. On your way home you can't help but admire your caring boyfriend, always making time for you even when he's too emotionally and physically tired.

194 notes · View notes

pottersfia · 3 years

Text

putting on an act | hp x fem!reader

part four

masterlist

warnings: angst, fluff, not read over oops

prompts:

11: “Be real with me; how much of this was fake?”

35: “Did I buy this cologne/perfume because you use it and the smell reminds me of you? Yes yes I did”

17: height difference kisses where one person has to bend down and the other is on their tippy toes

2: moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed

a/n: this is the last part thank you to everyone that enjoyed it :)

harry regretted everything. how could he have been so insensitive? if he could take back his choices that night, he would.

“hey harry.” the boy looked up to see cho smiling at him. he gave her a forced tight lipped smile back.

“hello cho.”

just five minutes before that, he was with you. he watched as you ran back to your friends and joined them in dancing again with a smile on his face. then, he was interrupted.

“having fun?” cho asked him. he shrugged.

“i’m doing fine.” he replied and they fell into a momentary awkward silence. “um, what about you?” he asked back. cho shrugged.

“harry, i wanted to ask.” she began and harry looked at her, suddenly very attentive. “that kiss that we had a few weeks ago, erm, did it mean anything?” harry had almost forgot it happened. he looked over at you. he never expected it but he knew the feelings he felt weren’t gonna go anytime soon. he was doing this to get with cho and to his knowledge, you weren’t interested. his silence was answer enough for cho.

“right. i’ll be going then.” she said and turned away from him. harry watched cho head for the door. the only way for him to get his head in the right place was to distract himself. he could get over you, he just needed someone else, right?

harry quickly followed after cho, dodging the crowd of students.

“cho! wait!” he called for her and she turned around. harry caught up to her and stood in front of her.

“no, harry i get it. you obviously really like-” harry cut her off, pulling her into a kiss. he felt nothing. there was no buzz or excitement like the first time he kissed her, he simply wasn’t feeling it.

cho must’ve sensed this, she pulled away and opened her eyes for a brief second. in the corner of her eye, she saw you. she instantly pulled away. harry looked at her confused then followed her gaze and saw you. you looked like you were gonna break down in tears.

honestly at first harry was confused why it bothered you so much. you were the one that always encouraged him to go for cho. then it hit him; you were supposed to be dating. technically he pretty much cheated. he never told you beforehand that he was gonna do this but he did it anyway.

all he wanted to do was talk to you but you avoided him for the past week. it simply hurt too much and you didn’t know how you would explain your reaction. you noticed how harry barely talked to cho anymore, but you didn’t care. it was all pretend, just an act.

your attempts to avoid harry were harder than expected.

you were in potions class listening to professor slughorn explain amortentia. he paired everyone up to work together and just to your luck he put you with harry.

“professor, is it ok if i switch partners?” you asked him privately.

“i’m sorry y/n but your partners are final.” he replied. you let out a heavy sigh and walked to harry. the two of you worked in silence. mostly you watched him do the work until,

“can you tell me what the next part is while i stir this?” harry asked.

“why don’t you read it yourself?” you quickly replied. harry looked at you, shocked. you avoided eye contact.

“it would be better if we actually worked together on this.”

“you’re not so good at teamwork though, are you.” you practically mumbled but he heard you. harry carried on.

“alright now that you’re all done, smell the amortentia and your partner will write down what it is you smell.” you looked at harry expectantly as he hesitated to smell the potion. his eyes widened, only slightly, but you noticed it.

“what is it?” you asked as you grabbed your quill.

“erm, it’s flowery.” he finally spoke out.

“flowery?” you questioned him while writing it down.

“yes. you heard me.” he looked at you sternly. you sighed and took your turn. suddenly your senses were filled with the scent of your favorite fruit, old broomsticks, and something that reminded you of a candle you once smelled. flannel. it was unexpected but your mind instantly made the connection to similar scents, and yes. you smelled what reminded you of harry.

“alright, what about you?” he asked. you cleared your throat.

“fruit, old broomsticks, and flannel.” he quickly wrote it down and class was dismissed.

later that day, all you could think of was harry. you honestly found it concerning how much he took over your thoughts the last few days.

“y/n, why don’t you just talk to him.” hermione said from the other end of your bed where she sat.

“why would i do that?” you scoffed. hermione rolled her eyes.

“oh come on, he likes you! haven’t you seen the way he hasn’t talked to cho at all.” she pointed out. you paused at the comment. harry likes you? why was he being an idiot if your assumption was right?

“then why did he kiss her? it’s like he wanted to ruin how other people see me like i’ll be the one who wasn’t good enough for him or something and-” your rant was cut off.

“i’m tired of this. you two need to figure this out soon.” hermione looked back at the book she was reading. you sighed as you laid back and let your mind wander.

everyone around seemed tense. they approached you with caution and concern and it honestly pissed you off. especially today. it wasn’t the sunniest day hogwarts had ever faced but ironically it matched your mood.

the day was spent with you dodging harry at all costs, as usual. that was until you saw ron walk up to you as you sat in the gryffindor common room with ginny and hermione.

“y/n, someone’s looking for you at the quidditch pitch.” ron said. you raised an eyebrow.

“the quidditch pitch? in this weather? i highly doubt that, ron.” you laughed.

“no he’s right, uh, they said it was really important.” hermione added on.

“who is it?” you asked.

“just go, will you?” ginny pulled you up from your spot and the 3 dragged you outside only because you had convinced them to walk with you.

the weather was dull, there was a light sprinkle of rain but it had been like that all day. the air was thick and humid, and the ground was wet and muddy.

sure enough, you saw someone standing in the middle of the quidditch pitch and you guessed it, it was harry.

“are you guys serious right now?” you rolled your eyes. they stopped and looked at you.

“go talk to him.” hermione said.

“now.” ginny pushed you forward a bit as the three left. you slowly walked towards harry dreading every step you took.

“harry.” you called to him and he turned to look at you. he gave a small wave and you returned a tight lipped smile that lasted about 2 seconds.

“uh, hermione said you wanted to talk?” he stood awkwardly. you shook your head with a sigh.

“she thinks we should talk.” you replied, breaking eye contact.

“oh.” the two of you fell into an awkward silence. harry wiped the rain drops that fell on his glasses as he tried to find what to say.

“y/n-” he said but you looked at him as you cut him off.

“why did you kiss her harry.” you blurted out. he looked back in shock. you were still mad, upset at him and it made him upset.

“well wasn’t the entire point of us dating about me and cho?” he snapped back.

“obviously but you could’ve at least told me! now it just looks like you cheated on me and she let you.” you looked down at your hands as you played with your fingers nervously.

“yeah it wasn’t the best idea but it really wasn’t like that. cho didn’t really get the chance to stop me.” you were silent, as if he wasn’t even there. “a-and i don’t even like her like that anymore.”

“then why did you kiss her!” you slightly yelled at him.

“because i thought it would distract me from you!” he quickly yelled back. you looked at him as he sighed loudly, clearly frustrated. you were quiet again. did he mean it in the way you thought he did?

“ok, be real with me; how much of this was fake?” you stared at him blankly and responded with a simple what? even though you knew exactly what he was asking.

“i need to know if you felt anything. i sure as bloody hell did, y/n. you wanna know what i smelled in potions today?” you simply nodded your head as signal for him to continue. he pulled out a small plastic bottle from his pocket. it was a body spray.

“this.” he held it up to you. “did i buy this perfume because you use it and the smell reminds me of you? yes, yes i did. and it’s what i smelled in the amortentia today.” he handed the bottle to you and it was in fact the scent you used.

“harry why didn’t you tell me?” you looked back up at him. he shrugged.

“i didn’t want to loose you as a friend. i-i thought i could somehow start liking cho again but it didn’t work.” you stared at him and bit the inside of your bottom lip. he actually liked you and everything felt bright again.

“you’re being very quiet.” he nervously chuckled. you smiled at him.

“i like you a lot harry.” he smiled back. the moment was so tender, reassuring, warm that you barely noticed the coldness that ran over your skin, that was until it decided to rain down harder. if you weren’t wet before you are definitely soaking now. you gasped as you and harry started to laugh.

“we’d better get inside!” harry called out. you nodded. he grabbed your hand and began to walk back towards the building but you tugged on his hand making him stop. you stared up at him once again with a loving smile and pulled him down to finally connect your lips. you slightly stood on your tippy toes as he bent down to reach you, eagerly returning to kiss. his hand remained in yours and the other one rested at your waist. your other hand was holding on to his cheek, rubbing it softly with your thumb. you parted to catch your breath, heavy breaths were all that was heard besides to rain harshly falling to the ground. you shared one last glance before running back to the castle.

you were once again dry and in your pajamas. harry had invited you to his dorm after the two of you had time to get washed ip. you closed the door to your dorm and quietly made your way to harry’s. you knocked lightly and suddenly you were pulled inside. you looked up and smiled at harry. he smiled back.

“hi.” he said.

“hello.” you replied.

“i’ve wanted to do this for so long.” he pulled you into another kiss, but this was different from the first. that kiss was sweet, full of forgiveness, it was welcoming and reassuring. this kiss was passionate and full of longly, and referring to what harry said it was long overdue.

you two were in the heat of the moment. all you wanted was for this to last forever. the hand that was on your waist moved up to your shoulder as he pushed you back, aiming for the wall. you bumped into a small desk and the chair fell but neither of you cared. in this moment it was just you and him. and that’s how you wanted it to stay.

taglist:

@harold-pothead @inglourious-imagines @oldschoolkiddo

#harry james potter x y/n #harry potter #harry potter x y/n #harry james potter x reader #harry potter x reader

173 notes · View notes

everlarkficexchange · 3 years

Text

Clubbing 101

Written by @alliswell21

Prompt 144: She has a night of fun before the start of the semester. She meets this guy, they hit it off that they sleep together. But when she shows up to her class the next day, she sees the guy again. But he’s her professor and he’s way older than she originally thought. #olderPeeta [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Rating: Explicit. NSFW.

Tags and Warnings: Canon Divergence; College!AU; Age gap, older man/younger woman; The opposite to slow burn? Smut; Unprotected sex; technically impaired consent since alcohol, but their both into each other while sober too 🤷🏻‍♀️; Ethical dilemmas; Teacher/Student relationship (sort of); One Shot, with an ambiguous open ending? Almost 10K words. Unbetaed.

Notes: Thank you to the moderators once more for putting up with us, procrastinating writers. You gals are saints! Thank you to @animekpopxx for her amazing prompts that never fail to snag my attention and give me the best ideas ever! You rock! I projected this story to be a smutty short thing, but it sprouted words and a background out of nowhere and I had to forced myself to stop adding to it, to get back to my other submissions waiting in my docs. Hopefully, it’s a good read for the ones who take the chance with it.

Thank you all!

KPKPKPKPKP

It starts with a harmless ranting.

“I’m not outgoing, or fun. I’m not even ‘cool’… hell, I don’t care what my sister says, I’m too old for this place!” I tell the handsome, bearded, guy sitting in the barstool next to me, “She’s a med student, you know, but she insists that partying is part of the college experience, especially when one’s career is so demanding… plus, is the last weekend of summer break, which apparently means you’re contractually obligated to party extra hard,” I roll my eyes, “I never saw the appeal personally, but I let her drag me out here so I can keep an eye on her. Is not like I’m gonna let her piss away her future for a night of clubbing,” I scoff, taking a long pull of my beer.

The guy chuckles, but I’m not done just yet.

I slam down my bottle and continue listing my grievances, “The thing that grinds my gears, is that she begged for a ‘girls’ night out’, and instead of drinking with me and people watch, she goes off with the first fucker that asks her to dance! I mean… did it ever occur to her, I may want to dance with her on OUR girls’ night out?!” I scowl and gulp another mouthful of beer, “then, to add insult to injury, thirty minutes later I get a text from her, saying to go on home without her ‘cause she found a ride, followed by that cursed eggplant emoji, like I needed an illustration of what kind of ride she’s getting,” I mock gag, rearranging the strap of my tiny purse across my chest.

“I guess she’s young, and beautiful, and does work very hard, but if you invite me to go clubbing with you, don’t abandon me within the first 15 minutes of arriving!”

My companion winces before sipping his drink, and smiling ruefully, “That’s harsh… sorry you’re having a shitty night,”

“Meh… little sisters, right?!” I shrug.

The guy smiles crookedly at me, and I find myself enjoying his smile, “I wouldn’t know about that. I’m the baby of three brothers, and the only thing I got away with was learning how to wrestle and spring awesome comebacks on the fly… the brutes kept me on my toes,” he chuckles.

“Three boys? Sounds chaotic. Your poor mother!”

“Yeah… life’s chaotic.” He averts his eyes for a second, his smile goes away. I’m afraid I’ve said something wrong, but he suddenly looks back at me, and confesses, “I’m not into clubbing either.” His eyes sparkle, despite the awful, dim, blue lights bathing the place.

I smile, “Look at us wallflowers, bonding over drinks and sibling shenanigans,” we clink our drinks together and sip. I’m chatty and relaxed, so unlike myself; I guess the two beers I’ve had are starting to get to me. “I’m Katniss, by the way.”

“That’s pretty,” he says, shyly; makes my chest warm up. “Nice to meet you, Katniss. I’m Peeta.”

I arch my eyebrows, “Peter?” I repeat, because I’m pretty sure I miss-heard him over the obnoxiously loud music.

The guy shakes his head, “Pee-ta… like the bread?” He chuckles. Then adds, “Family name. Everyone on my dad’s side are bakers.”

I snort-laugh, “Punny!” I say, taking another sip. Yup, beer’s getting to me, I’m not this cleverly funny. “My dad was into survivalism and botany… I’m named after a plant also known as Duck Potato, so I win the weird name competition!”

“Hey, it’s something else to bond over,”

“Cheers to that!” We clink our drinks again, and partake in our booze.

He orders another whiskey neat when he’s out… sounds both snooty and distinguished at the same time. Goes well with his put together image, though: nicely trimmed beard, nicely combed hair, nice polo shirt with what I believe is a tiny loaf of bread embroidered on the chest, and dark-wash jeans… I think. It’s hard to tell under the black lights of the club.

He offers to get me another drink, and I order an appletini.

“J.D. from Scrubs always drank one,” I explain, swirling the coctel in my hand, “I’ve always been curious to try, but didn’t wanna spend my own money experimenting on a drink I could potentially hate.”

“Makes sense,” Peeta says, “So… what’s the verdict?”

“Is pretty good, actually. But I think I’ll stick with my Miller Light,”

Peeta nods, “I honestly don’t enjoy alcohol that much.”

I giggle. “Then, what brings you to this fine establishment tonight, sir, if you’re not much for clubbing, or drinking?” I watch him out of the corner of my eye.

I like that when he smiles, his eyes crinkle in the corners.

“I lost a bet against a colleague.”

“Oh,” I’m suddenly self conscious and a little uncomfortable. I give the guy a scrutinizing look, and ask suspiciously, “what was the punishment exactly?”

The man rolls his eyes. “I have to spend one whole hour in the club, without criticizing anything, like the bitter old man I am,” he grins, “My friend’s words. Not mine!” He raises both hands, claiming innocence.

I laugh at the face he pulls, “Well, you’ve just defaulted on that punishment,”

“How so?” He beams.

“With the look in your face! It spoke volumes!”

“Am I that transparent?”

“You read like a preschooler’s board book, pal!”

We both laugh, I drink my beer, and he throws back his whiskey neat.

“So…” he makes a show of looking at his watch, “I still have 33 minutes to kill before I’m allowed to run out of this place… I know I’m not a Med student, co-Ed, sister of yours, but… would you, um, like to dance with me?” He sounds adorably hopeful.

I glance at the man sideways, toying with my bottle.

He smirks, mischievously, “I promise, spirits make me more coordinated on the dance floor. I become this amazing dancer when I have a couple of drinks on… or so my brain believes. I probably look like an idiot, but I’m too goofy to know the difference. You’re welcome to be the judge it for yourself,”

I take my sweet time finishing the last dregs of my beer, and wrinkle my nose, “You sure you wanna dance to this shit, kids call music nowadays?” I smirk, pointing a finger up, motioning wide circles into the ether.

Peeta gives a full belly laugh.

I really do like his laugh!

“Isn’t it our only choice?” He ventures.

Not if you follow me home, my thirsty brain supplies; my lips on the other hand, just let through a hint of a smile, because I’m buzzed, but not drunk enough to proposition a total stranger. I’ve never been one to sleep around anyway.

“Okay,” I say, too enthused. “As long as we both agree that this isn’t music,”

“Oh no, this just barely passes as noise!” Peeta agrees readily.

He guides me to the packed dance floor, and we start moving to the booming, deafening tunes playing overhead.

I’m not sure if one could call this dancing. Everywhere I look people are writhing against each other, like a pack of zombies without grace or rhyme.

I’m not sure Peeta will get an accurate assessment of his dancing skills, compared to what I’m seeing, he’ll probably look like a professional; plus, it’s too dark and busy in here to really appreciate anything, really, but after a few minutes of just shifting in place, robotically, I snatch two bottle beers from a waitress walking by, offering one to my partner, hoping that’s enough to get us loosen up. The waitress stares at me until I rummage on my crossbody mini purse and toss a crumple ten on her tray.

The liquid boost works. Before I know it, I’m grinding my hips against his. Peeta’s just the right height for his thigh to fit between my legs and brush against my front. I get tired of undulating my arms in the air, so I drop them around his shoulders, and feel just how firm and broad he is under my touch.

Our chests are tightly pressed together, and I’m at the right angle to just stare at his plush-looking lips. I turn around before I do something brash, like kiss him in the mouth. Peeta doesn’t question it, he just places his hands on my hips, and starts moving to the music’s beat.

I bring the beer to my lips, but the bottle’s empty… oops! It doesn’t matter, I’m having the time of my life!

Peeta’s swaying guides me. I basically drape my back over his front, and bump my ass into his groin. I feel the hint of a bulge there, and press my rear into it again, just to confirm if I felt what I hope I felt.

Peeta’s fingers tighten on my hip, emboldening me to keep going until I’m practically twerking into him, and his slight bulge morphs into a full blown hard-on.

I twist in his arms to face him, my lust idled brain barely thinking rationally, “Are your 33 minutes done yet?” I yell into his ear, so he can hear me over the noise.

He doesn’t even look at his watch, “To hell with time! I‘ll stay here all night, if you want me to,” He answers loudly.

“Come on, then!” I push off his chest, and snatch up his hand before he can reply.

Leaving the dance floor is surprisingly easily, considering the crowd bouncing in place together.

I make no conscious plan on where we’re going; I’m arguably familiar with the layout of this place from my many visits since Prim turned 21; I’m only mildly surprised when we navigate across the club, all the way to the restrooms. It’s like my clit is making all the decisions tonight… good for it!

There’s a line of disgruntled women waiting to get inside the Ladies Room, but the Men’s Room is available, and Peeta lets me guide him into it, like one of those pull toys children have.

“It stinks in here,” I comment blandly, but make a beeline for the last stall with a door.

There’s one guy at the urinal, but he doesn’t even look up from his pants, so I just shrug it off and yank Peeta into the stall with me.

The space is tight, but once inside the stall, I push Peeta into the door, and attack his mouth.

He makes a startled noise at the back of his throat, but his hands and arms immediately press me into his body more fully. My own hands trek down to his belt, where I fiddle with the buckle until it’s undone, and I can access his pants’ button and fly.

He hisses when my fingers graze his warm erection, and bucks into my knuckles. I’m in the process of sticking my hand inside his boxers, when Peeta growls, sucking my lower lip into his mouth, and letting it go with a wet pop.

“Switch places,” he pants against my mouth, and hoists me up, until my back hits the door and his hands grab my hips possessively, jutting my pelvis forward, “I’m hungry, would you mind if I eat you out?”

“Okay,” I gasp.

Thank you for forcing me to wear your tiny, clubbing dress, Prim!

“You’ll allow it?” He asks, incredulous, rubbing circles on my hips with his thumbs.

“Yes… I’ll allow it!”

His smile is sexy, his stare is hypnotic. Damned my drunken ass! I can’t believe I’m willing to do this in a smelly bathroom stall!

Peeta sits on the toilet and licks his lips while staring up at me. His hands disappear under the stretchy material of my skirt, bumping my purse out of his way. He skims his fingers under the elastic of my panties, and I bite my lip, nodding eagerly.

Slowly, Peeta slides my underwear down my legs, the tips of his fingers follow, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced!

Once he brings my panties to my knees, his hands rush back up my thighs, pushing the flimsy skirt around my waist. My underwear drops to my ankles on their own.

Peeta’s level eye with my crotch, and I squirm restlessly. “Beautiful… absolutely soaked,” he whispers in a daze, he inhales pulling me closer, “You smell divine!” He descends, nose first, into the thatch of dark curls between my thighs, making me moan. He ruts his face against me, and suddenly drops to his knees, grabbing my calf to pull my leg up.

But the movement gets prevented by my stupid underwear, tangled in my ankles. Without missing a beat, I toe my panties off, so Peeta can maneuver my body however he wants.

He drapes my leg over his shoulder, opening me up to his ravenous mouth. He grunts, burying his face into my core, and finally, FINALLY, his tongue swipes between my folds.

“Fuck!” I squeak.

My hands fly to tangle into his soft, perfectly coiffed hair. I nearly smother him, holding his face to my pussy, but he’s doing wicked things to me with his tongue: lapping, sucking, and nipping at my labia; drawing number eight figures around my clit with the tip of his tongue, to then sinking it deep inside my core. I can’t stop bucking into his mouth over and over.

When was the last time I was given head? Fuck if I know! Darius probably, he was decent, but didn’t do it often. And Thom was so boring at it, I actually preferred he didn’t do it. But this guy is amazing! A real expert in the matter!

“I’m so close! Please… I’m so close,” I wail like a cat in heat, writhing against the door.

Peeta looks up, and despite the horrendous lighting in the room, I realize he’s got the deepest blue eyes I’ve ever seen… too bad I can’t hold his gaze too long, because he starts rubbing my clit with his thumb, while fucking my hole with his tongue, and is all I can do not shout and scalp him in my delirium.

He doesn’t stop drinking my juices while I convulse above him. On the contrary, he retrieves his thumb, but keeps his mouth busy, lapping away all the slick I give him.

It’s too much.

I tug on his hair to pull him off of my sensitive privates.

Peeta takes one last lick with the flat of his tongue and looks up at me, smiling wolfishly, “Was that good?” His beard’s dripping with me, he wipes some of it off on his sleeve.

I snort, unsexy and definitely rude. “You made me cum so hard I saw stars… yeah, it was good. Better than good, really!” I smile down at him, and try to pull him off from the floor.

All the gel holding his curls in place is gone now, rubbed off on my palms. His hair is sticking up on the top and towards the back of his head. I reach up to try and smooth it back, “I’m sorry, I seem to have made a mess of your hair,” I giggle. It’s adorable, but I feel bad that I ruined it.

“You can mess my hair any time you want, Katniss.” He says, almost shyly, he places his hands on my waist, over the bunched up dress.

It’s a big turn on to me, how his words are so flirty, but he delivers them so sweetly and awed. Is unexpected and endearing… which is odd, because I don’t usually find people endearing at all!

We both chuckle.

He licks his lips, and I feel heat pool in my lower belly again.

“Come’ere!” I wrap my hand around his nape, and pull his lips to mine.

He responds immediately, licking the seam of my mouth. I suck on his tongue when he slides it against mine.

He moans.

“Fuck me, Peeta,” I rasp into the kiss, palming his dick through his jeans.

He groans, “Are you sure?” He barely holds back another groan when I squeeze his clothed erection.

“Cock. In me. Now!” I command through gritted teeth, trying to pull his cock out of his pants with one hand, while taking his hand, and splaying it on my boob.

“Okay… shit… this is… surreal! This has never happened to me before!” He kneads my tit, gently.

I’m not sure I was supposed to hear that, so I pretend I didn’t and turn, facing the door to wiggle my ass, in an attempt to convince him.

Peeta makes a noise in his throat, quickly followed by the sound of shifting clothes, and a metallic thump from his belt buckle hitting the toilet.

I whine when Peeta’s warm, heavy cock caressed my bare ass cheek. “Please don’t tease me,” I beg.

“Fuck, Katniss… do you really want this?”

“Yes, Peeta… put your cock inside my cunt, and fuck me all the way to next week! Now!”

His warm body cocoons mine, “Anything you want, sweetheart,” he whispers into my ear, and I feel the blunt head of his cock parting my folds, coating himself with my natural lubricants.

He finds my entrance, pushing inside just the tip. He gasps, “Fuck!” One big hand wraps around my hip to keep me steady, bracing his other arm on the door, above my head.

“Peeta… Please!” I wiggle my ass, making him sink another inch deep.

“Hold still,” He hisses, “I’m trying to hold back… not ramming in too roughly… embarrassing myself, cumming too fast,” His hot breath warms my nape. “You feel like heaven!” He growls, tightening his hold on me.

I’m torn, wishing he’d drill into me without mercy already, while another part of me is grateful he’s trying to stay under control… I don’t know which I want more…

When was the last time I had sex?

As if reading my thoughts, Peeta shares haltingly, “It’s been such a long time for me. I want it to last, but I’m

Not sure if I can,”

I don’t have time to second guess myself, because Peeta’s moving, and he’s massive!

“Don’t hold back!” I bleat, “I want it rough… I want it fast!” I gasp, clenching down on him. I paw at the door for purchase, trying not to face-plant on the cold, hard surface, while Peeta’s fat prick stretches me to the brink of pain! I can’t stay put for him any longer; I buck into him.

“I said to hold still!” He slaps my ass, hard. It stings, but it’s a welcomed feeling.

I moan and melt, finally relaxing enough for him to penetrate me all the way to the hilt. He stays there a moment, breathing harshly into my neck, squeezing my hip on and off.

“You’re so tight. So warm. So wet, Katniss.” He nuzzles my ear, “I’m gonna move now, I apologize beforehand in case this ends too soon for you…” He drags himself slowly out of me, just to plunge right back in with a swift, hard thrust.

I squeak; he grunts..

Peeta holds me by the waist, “You’re so pretty and sexy, Katniss. I can’t decide if you’re real, or the most vivid wet dream I’ve ever had…” he’s fucking me like a jackrabbit in rut.

I’m speechless, vaguely wondering if I didn’t dream him instead?

His cock head hits a spot deep inside me I’ve never reached before. I start babbling nonsense— mostly praising his cock and his strength— I don’t really know what I’m saying, but he seems to be enjoying it thoroughly by the increase in his speed and the volume of his grunts.

I’m joisted up and down his shaft like a rag doll; I wish I’d thought of hanging my stupid little purse somewhere before we started, because now it’s bumping on my thighs, distracting me from the great ducking I’m getting; it’s no matter… I can feel my orgasm building in my belly.

“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart… I want you to cum too,” He nibbles on my earlobe.

“Yes, Peeta! Please make me cum, I’m so close!”

One of his hands slides around my waist to play with my clit, while his other tweaks my nipples over my dress and bra. That, added to the sensation of my g-spot being prodded repeatedly, sends me spinning over the edge.

I must’ve screamed or something, because he clamps his hand over my mouth, and then he’s grunting, digging his forehead between my shoulder blades, and pulling me back against his unyielding body.

“Fuck…” he gasps and shivers behind me. I feel his dick pulsing, his rhythm faltering, and then he goes still.

Peeta sags a little, wedging his shoulder into the door to keep from falling. I’m surprised he still has the strength to hold me up too; I have to be dead weight at this point, since my legs feel like overcooked noodles and my arms gave out a minute ago.

We both try to catch our breaths, too spent and weak for much more, at least for a few minutes.

Peeta stirs. “Are you okay?” He breathes out, ruffling the loose wisps of my hair with his breath.

I chuckle, leaning my sweaty temple on the cool door. “I can’t feel my toes… which is excellent!”

“Good,” he sighs.

Three heart beats later, he straightens up and pulls out of me. An indecent amount of spend flows down my legs as soon as his cock dislodges from my pussy, but Peeta shoves something soft between my thighs quickly, before I have time to freak out about the mess.

I look down mildly curious, staring at an embroidery of a tiny loaf of bread. Vaguely, I wonder if that’s his uniform? He said he was a baker, right? At least he’s named after bread or something. I giggle. “Is this your shirt?” I ask, widening my stance to gracelessly wipe myself clean.

“Yeah,”

“Thank you,” I say, dazedly, turning sideways to smile at him gratefully.

He’s wearing a simple, white, cotton t-shirt when I return the polo to him, now spoiled with cum and slick. I’m caught off guard by how broad shoulder he is, and by how nice he smells… cinnamon and sweat. Weird combination, but pleasant. I wonder if he baked any bread today?

“Um… would you… would you like to put these back on?” He asks awkwardly, leaning down to pick up my discarded panties from besides the foot of the toilet bowl.

I wrinkle my nose, “Not really,” I mumble. “Who knows when was the last time that floor got cleaned. Gross.”

Peeta smiles and shakes his head, “Here,” he grabs his polo, covered in our juices, and wraps my underwear in it. “Now it’s hidden.”

My body is finally catching up with the advanced hour, the beers and the two amazing orgasms. I’m starting to feel sore everywhere, and my eyelids are getting heavy. “Wow… think I’m officially all partied out,” I chuckle weakly.

“Ditto,” Peeta agrees, his smile is shy. “So… there’s this little dinner about two blocks from here,” he starts, eyes downcast; the space seems to shrink around us, now that the frenzy of our physical activities is done with. “Would you like to grab a pancake or som—“

My phone rings, startling us both into silence. I frown, but scramble to find it in my purse, to check who could be calling me… apparently at 2 a.m.!

My frown deepens. Prim’s smiling face flashes on the screen. She was supposed to be getting some herself! “It’s my sister,” I whisper, tamping down my rising panic. I don’t ask if it’s okay to answer, I just do it. “Prim?”

“Where the hell are you?!” I have to pull the phone off, or risk eardrum rupture by my sister’s screeching. “I’ve been texting and calling you! I’ve been worried sick!”

I scowl at the wall, confused and little annoyed, “Prim… Prim, are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need me to come get you somewhere?” I try to ask.

“What?! No. I’m home! But you aren’t, and I’ve been scared shitless trying to find you!”

I give Peeta an apologetic grimace, and blindly feel around for the lock to get out of the stall. “Um… why are you home so early? Last time I heard from you, you were getting a ride,” I’m trying to sound unaffected; It’s all I can think to say in my mortification.

“Never mind that! Why aren’t you home already? I thought you had to work in the morning and then go to sch—”

While Prim rages at me, I place a hand on the phone and turn to Peeta, still in the stall, awkwardly facing the wall, I assume to grant me some privacy. I’m sure he can hear my sister’s frantic chastisement from where he’s standing. “I’m sorry… you’d think I was a teenager instead of a grown ass adult,” I roll my eyes.

Peeta waves me off good naturedly. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for keeping you so late,”

I’m about to say something else, but Prim yells loudly, something about calling the police and checking the hospitals for me, which truly prompts a reaction from me, “Calm down! I’m still at the club, exactly where you left me!” I cover the phone with my palm again, and turn to him. “I’m… I’m gonna go? Before she threatens to send the marines in,” I try to joke, but our situation takes all the levity out of it, and my attempt dies off, lamely.

Peeta nods, smiling softly; somehow I can tell it’s not genuine.

“Little sisters, right?” I offer halfheartedly, twisting my lips.

“Can I… walk you out at least?” He asks quietly; Prim hasn’t stopped nagging this whole time.

“I… it’s not necessary, but thank you…”

Peeta nods again, looking disappointed.

I don’t get to tell him a proper goodbye, because two dude-bros come in the bathroom, letting the noise from the club filter in; one of the idiots elbows the other, and both start making some lewd comments about me, but Peeta steps in, eyes wild with anger, and tells the guys to knock it off. Prim hears the whole thing of course, and goes nuts herself asking what’s going on?

Peeta looks at me, and motions his head towards the door.

Message received, I step outside the bathroom and book it out of the club, “I’ll be home in a bit. I’m gonna call and Uber,”

“Call me as soon as you’re in it!” Prim demands.

“Fine! Now stop nagging me, will you?!”

I don’t realize I never looked back at Peeta to wave my goodbyes until I’m in the car, heading home. Regret truly is a bitch. I can’t help feeling like I just lost something important, but I have no idea what it is.

>>—————> * <————<<

It’s been a very long Monday. I’m mainly running on caffeine at the moment, and can’t wait to get home and pass out in my fluffy bed, to see if I can catch up on last nights lost hours of sleep.

I enter my last class of the day and find a seat in the middle of the third row. I pull my laptop, a writing pad and my mechanical pencil out of my bag, and watch as my classmates start filtering in one by one, greeting each other and finding their places, lazily.

I’m the oldest student in this class, which is not surprising. I’ve only just come back from my extended— 5 year— sabbatical; and did it only after I was completely sure I could handle my workload and the financial strain of both me and Prim going to college at the same time, without giving myself an early grave.

It’s been hard, but I’m glad I came back to finish my schooling, I only need a handful of credits to graduate, which is great!

I check my watch. We still have a few minutes to kill before class starts. The professor— Dr. Mellark, according to the copy of my schedule— is not here yet, so I pull up the banking app on my phone to give it another glance. The balance is still the same as the last two times I’ve seen it, but it doesn’t hurt to be extra careful when one is on a tight budget. I scheduled payments for the power, gas and rent to go out in the next few days, and I want to make sure there’s enough money in the bank to cover them. We’re looking fine for the month, financially speaking.

The door to the classroom swishes open, and I start signing off my app.

“Good afternoon ladies and germs; I’m doctor Mellark, and provided you’re in this room for an English class, I’ll like to welcome you to the amazing world of Classic Literature!” Says a deep, male voice I find oddly familiar. “By the way, don’t any of you dare to disagree with me on the awesomeness of classic lit… I’m a doctor, I know what I’m talking about… unless you ask me about medicine, then please be free to disregard everything I say, because I’m not ‘that’ kind of doctor!”

A murmure of little chuckles fills the room; even I smile, silencing my phone and putting it away, before looking up at the professor.

I choke on a strangled gasp when I finally set eyes on the man I assume is the teacher, dumping a worn, leather, messenger bag on the desk near the podium. He’s the last person I would’ve expected to have as a professor.

Oblivious to my predicament, Doctor Mellark— or as I know him: Peeta!— keeps introducing himself.

“I’ve been teaching this course for 14th years, but I’m always pleasantly surprised to hear the different points of views my students bring to our discussions on the classics we study, which in a nutshell, is the beauty of this class.” He pulls a ream of paper out of his bag, and gives it to a student in the front, “Please take a syllabus, and pass the rest to the next person, and so on… thank you!”

My face is burning. I think I’m gonna faint.

“But enough about me,” his voice booms, making my whole body shiver. “I don’t normally do roll calls or care about attendance, as long as you’re not missing assignments, and are here during discussions, so this is the first and last time I’ll be reading this list,” he rises a piece of paper above his head, I surmise has the students names on it, and he instructs, before reading, “I’ll call your names, and you’ll introduce yourself, briefly, that way we can all get acquainted with each other, yes?”

Ugh!

He can scratch my name off that list right now! We’re more than acquainted with each other.

Bile rises to my throat. An intrusive, bitter thought pesters me: how many of his students has he gotten ‘that’ familiar with?

But the thought dies off quickly. An even worse, more worrisome thought springs front and center in my mind: Did we use protection?!

Panic rises in my chest, a nervous queasiness settles in my belly; a distant memory of warm goo sliding down my legs comes to mind… Oh shit!

Oh shit, oh shit! We didn’t use a freaking condom? Who does that?!

Oh shit!

Would a Plan B still be effective right now? It’s been less than 24 hours…

Peeta’s reading names. People stand from their seats and talk about themselves. I haven’t heard one word they’ve said, but I’ve been watching how some of the female students bat their eyelashes and speak all breathily, smiling coyly at him… Peeta seems oblivious to the flirting, but I still feel a cocktail of unpleasant feelings in the pit of my stomach.

I realize, I’m jealous!

My ass is frozen in my sit, I’m not even breathing. I don’t think Peeta’s seen me yet, but… what will he do or say once my name comes up? I send a quick prayer to heaven, he won’t recognize me since I look nothing like I did last night at the club, with my hair down and my face all made-up. Right now and plain ol’ me… the rub is gonna be my name. Darn my dad and his awful naming whims!

Soon enough, he reads a name that makes him stutter, “Kat…Katniss? Everdeen?” He does a double take, “Katniss Everdeen…” his eyes are the size of saucers when he scans the lecture hall, swiftly. When he finds me, he looks back down at his paper, and says the name out loud again, unsure, “Katniss Everdeen?” Like he doesn’t believe what he’s reading.

I stand up woodenly, my voice cracks a little, “I’m—I’m Katniss Everdeen… hi!”

I’m about to drop back into my chair, but Peeta kinda mumbles, “You know, Arrowhead, or Katniss is a water plant? The root is edible… like a swamp potato?”

There are quiet little giggles all over the place.

Peeta clears his throat, his eyes flit away; his face’s blank of emotion, but his cheeks seem pinker than a second earlier, “I just read that online, believe it or not. Interesting facts about local flora, people. Reading is knowledge, but so is learning from one another… what can you tell us about yourself, Miss Everdeen, besides that you have a very unique first name?”

“I…” I harrumph, avoiding eye contact with Peeta at all costs, “I’m a part time student. Majoring in Botany. I took this class to fulfill my last English credits requirement for graduation. I do love books and classic literature, in particular.”

“Thank you… Miss Everdeen,” he rasps.

I sit down, clumsily, hoping this horrible, horrible moment is just a nightmare and that I’ll wake up any second now, drooling on my desk, with indentations of my notepad on my cheek, because anything would be less embarrassing than what I’m going through at this point.

Mercifully, Peeta calls a different name, and then another, and then another. I don’t look up from my notepad once.

Peeta for his part, sounds stiff and monotonous— or so I’d like to think— no more jokes or clever sayings. Maybe he’s not as affected as I am about this ordeal, and I’m just making it a bigger deal than it really is? Maybe he does have experience sleeping with students— I mean, it’s not unheard off, right?— Not that either of us had any idea we were engaging in a teacher-student affair last night…

Although, calling it an affair is generous; it was a measly one night stand. A chance encounter. Two people letting off steam before a busy week ahead.

I’m getting increasingly angry with all this thinking… and the class seems to drag on. It feels like an eternity, and my mind keeps churning up all kinds of questions: Why would he not say he was a teacher at this particular college? Did he lie about being a baker? Is his name even Peeta?

I scoffed at the thought.

To my horror, I hear him ask, “Anything to say, Miss Everdeen?”

Looking up at him requires a great deal of bravery and self admonishment, but I do my best and face him— he’s wearing glasses now, which makes my belly tightened for inexplicable reasons— “No, Doctor Mellark, nothing of consequence anyway,” I retort as venemosly as possible, without alerting anyone else there’s something weird going on between me and the professor.

Peeta grimaces slightly. Then looks away, “Very well, as I was saying, we will start with the basics: The Iliad and Moby Dick, since those are High school level works, I expect your reports to be sufficiently well researched, and your personal ideas on the text somewhat fleshed out. It doesn’t have to be in-depth. I’m just looking to determine everyone’s style and needs for the semester ahead…” he continues his spiel, and I feel free to go back to my stewing and my musings.

Before I know it, Peeta’s dismissing the class, wishing everyone a good rest of their evening.

I jump into action, packing my stuff with my head bowed, but then I hear him again.

“Miss Everdeen, a private word, please?” It’s much too quiet to have been said from his podium. I still startled when I look up and find him standing right against the first row of desks, directly in front of me.

His face is not quite stern, but he’s definitely less smiley than when we met.

I force down a gasp, because under the better lighting of the lecture hall, and close up, I can see a plethora of details I missed at the club; like the arresting blue of his eyes, the slight reddish of his neatly trimmed beard, peppered with silver whiskers all over, while his perfectly combed hair is almost all silver on the temples, and ashy blonde on the top. His shoulders are even broader than I remember.

He’s overall stockier than I originally thought, and just a smidge shorter, which is fine, he’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever met, and I wouldn’t mind climbing him like a tree—

I shake my head off the intrusive, lecheros thoughts. I’m literally lusting after my teacher, for goodness sakes! This is beyond a silly schoolgirl crush!

Peeta arches one dark blonde eyebrow at me, expectantly.

I nod curtly, because my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, and gesture for him to lead the way.

I shove my laptop into my bag, and hastily shoulder the straps, hugging my writing pad to my chest, following my professor like a chastened little girl.

My stupid eyes find his ass, and I blink twice, at the exquisite sight in front of me. I groan internally.

He grabs his own bag, takes off his spectacles and slides them into his shirt pocket.

How old is this man?! He said he’s been teaching this class for 14 years, when do professors start their teaching careers? How did I never see him before now roaming campus? Is his age the reason he ate pussy like a master?

I shake my head, cursing my horny brain.

Peeta opens a door I have no idea how we came across, and then stands aside, gesturing for me to go in first.

I duck my head and step into a warmly decorated office, with a small desk and two chairs in the middle of the room. Bookshelves full of tomes line the office. A handful of pictures and framed diplomas hang from the only available wall space in the room, but I don’t get to study them before he catches my undivided attention.

“Let me start by apologizing,” Peeta stars, closing the door behind himself, “I assure you, it wasn’t my intention to cause you any stress, or embarrassment out there.” He pauses, “Would you like to sit?” He offers, wincing. He doesn’t wait and steps around me, to pace on the other side of his desk, “I… um, never been in this position before,” he scowls, “I’m not sure what assurances I can offer at the moment, except, that I will start the process to recuse myself from this class immediately, to not interfere with your academic—“

“Recuse yourself?” I cut him off, “what do you mean?”

Peeta squirms a little, and sits down heavily on his chair. My bag slides off my shoulder, and I just dump it in the empty chair I was offered a moment ago.

“Well, Miss Everdeen, it’s the right thing to do, given our circumstances. We’ve breached the appropriate boundaries of our pupil and teacher positions, and staying in the same class together will put you at a disadvantage… is a power imbalance situation, that calls for action.”

“Can you stop calling me ‘Miss Everdeen’? It’s weird…”

“I’m just trying to maintain an acceptable level of decorum between us,” he says sheepishly.

“That ship has already sailed,” I say tiredly.

“Perhaps, but it’s my responsibility to still try,” he rubs his forehead. “Anyway, I’ll call my department and see what is next. Stepping down myself is the only fair solution I see so far… it would be terribly unfair to ask you to switch classes. Simply disrespectful, but we both can agree this uncomfortable situation needs to be nipped in the bud, for both our sakes, Miss Everdeen.”

“This is bullshit!” I snap, “What happened in that club, isn’t that terrible of a problem! What we really need to do is stop acting so stiffly and guilty. By the way, you sound like a walking thesaurus!” I accuse, looking him in the eyes for the first time since he called my name at the lecture hall. “Stop it!”

Peeta inhales deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Miss Everdeen, our actions last night may have been honest, and even innocent in nature, but they still carry consequences… unexpected ones, especially in light of the facts. And the facts are, that it would be unethical for me to remain in a position of authority over you. In any case… if you feel the need to report me to the school administration, for… harassment or inappropriate behavior or anything else, I won’t dispute any claims. I promise to distance myself from you and give you space so you can continue with your education without interference, in a safe environment.”

I grunt, “I’m not going to report you, because you didn’t do anything wrong. Sure, I thought you were a baker… I mean your story about your name, and that little loaf of bread embroidered into your shirt, I thought it was your uniform,” I shrug one shoulder.

“Sorry about that… I never meant to mislead you,” he says bashful.

I ignore him, “Either way, I was the one pulling you into that bathroom. I threw myself at you. I begged you to do things to me, and you just granted me my wishes…” like a sexy gentleman, “The sex is on me. I’m 26 years old, I’m not some bumbling teenager who hasn’t learned to take responsibility for her actions, so, please… stop trying to shield me, or protect me, or whatever it is you’re doing,” my arms flap around in frustration. I finally push my bag off the chair, and sink into it. “Look, Peeta—“

“Professor…” he corrects, frowning a little.

I roll my eyes, if he knew he’s just making it sound kinkier than it already is, he wouldn’t be so adamant about the freaking titles.

“Fine… Doctor Mellark,” I enunciate, pettily. “I specifically chose your class as my last English elective for two reasons. One: it’s exactly the amount of credits I need to graduate at the end of the semester. And two: it fits my schedule to a T, which is important, since I do have a full time job when I’m not a college student. So, I’m sure we can both be adults about this unfortunate situation, and simply forge on. There’s no need for you to recuse from teaching this class, and I have absolutely no intention of switching. We both can wear our big people britches, and pretend last night was a… what did you call it?” I wave my hands, as if the answer will materialize from thin air, “A vivid wet dream? And leave it at that!”

Peeta glares at me, looking aggravated for the first time since I met him. “It’ll be unethical to continue like everything is normal, Miss Everdeen.” Peeta argues, stubbornly.

“Nobody has to know about last night,” I say, exasperated, then a horrifying thought flashes in my mind, “Unless you bragged about it already!”

“No!” He straightens in his chair, looking offended, “I would never do something so vile,” He looks indignant, “plus, the fact still remains that something did happen last night, and I know about it! I can’t, in good faith, be your teacher.”

“Are you planning on showing me favoritism because you know what my pussy tastes like, Peeta?” I deadpan, “Or are you gonna blackmail me into doing it again?”

“Stop calling me Peeta!” He growls through his teeth, his very thick fingers clenching into fists on his armrests.

I blink at his reaction owlishly, realizing I’m truly pushing it this time.

“I’ve always prided myself on keeping my nose clean. Being a decent man and tutor. Never in 17 years of teaching have I slept with a co-ed, let alone a student in my own class.” He breathes deeply, then pins me to my chair, with those arresting blue eyes of his, burning with controlled anger, “I would never extort you or anyone for sexual favors, Katniss. While I don’t really want to lose my tenure or face other disciplinary actions from the school authorities, the one thing I truly don’t want to damage are my personal standards, and my self image.

“Katniss, I’m already biased when it comes to you. Being your professor won’t be exactly fair to anyone. I’m not saying I would give you A’s willy-nilly, nor that I would grade your papers any differently than I’d do your peers or that I’d be less critical of your work,”

“That’s reassuring,” I roll my eyes. “You’re telling me that if I bring you a shit essay, you might not be persuaded to let me redo it?”

He sighs, “I don’t know…” he scratches the back of his neck, “I’ll most likely hover over your desk a disproportionate amount of time compared to your classmates. There’s also a chance I’ll call on your name more often than the rest of them?”

“I still don’t hear one unscrupulous, wrong reason, why you can’t do your job, and teach this class.”

We sit there, staring at each other, at an impasse.

“Why are you so set on keeping me in that room, Miss Everdeen?” He asks, softly.

Finally, I relent, relaxing my tense shoulders, and exhaling tiredly. I raise my hands in defeat. “I don’t know, Peeta. Because I want to protect you, the same way you’re trying to protect me. But… recuse yourself if you have to. I still believe you’re a better man than your urges.”

Peeta relaxes in his chair too, “Thank you, Katniss.You didn’t have to say that, specially because you don’t know me. It still means a lot.”

I chew the inside of my lip, calculating stuff in my head. “You’re right, I don’t know you, but I consider myself an okay judge of character.” He opened this door, it’s time for me to walk through it, “Can I ask you some stuff?” I ask innocently.

Peeta arches his eyebrows. “Shoot,” he says.

“How old are you?”

“45. I’m sorry. I knew you were young last night… I just didn’t quite grasp just how young,” his eyes shift downwards, sheepish and uncomfortable.

“I’m an adult. I’ve been the head of my family for years. At this point, age is irrelevant for me.” I state, dismissively.

“What about your family?” He asks, tilting his head sideways.

It takes me a minute to answer. I cross my arms over my stomach, and exhale, “It’s been only Primrose and I for five years now. My mother had cancer. My father passed when I was eleven.” I rock in my chair, slightly, “That’s why my sister was being such a clingy bitch last night. She can’t bear to lose anyone else. Neither can I for that matter.”

Peeta leans forward on his desk. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Katniss.”

I sit back, feeling like a huge weight just got lifted off my shoulders. “It’s okay, really. I’m back in school, about to finish my last semester, Prim is doing great in university, the only debt we have right now is Prim’s car and my Target card… we are actually okay,” I smile, meekly at him.

“That’s… that’s good, Katniss. Admirable, really.”

“Peeta?” I start cautiously, “Would you really remove yourself from the class because of me?”

He looks me right in the eye, sincerity emanating fro his eyes. “Absolutely. Without hesitation. As soon as you leave, I’ll email my Head of Department, explaining my situation. Don’t worry, I won’t mention any names or details—“

I shake my head, vehemently.

Peeta squints, studying me cautiously, measuring me.

“Please… stay with me…”

Something in my tone catches his attention, and he eyes me curiously. “I’ve already told you why I can’t,” he says, almost soothingly.

I stand up. Go around my chair, and drop back down into it. I start shaking my leg nervously. “I had this feeling in my gut since last night. Like I lost something precious, I just couldn’t put a finger on it… I still can’t, to be honest. All I know, in my loins, is that I can’t let you step down from your position, and I sure as hell won’t walk away on you without figuring out what this…” I wiggle my fingers, pointing to the mouth of my stomach, “feeling is about.”

He stares at me.

I stand up again, and this time I just pace, to the wall with the pictures, and stare at a bunch of faces, too similar to Peeta’s not to be related to him somehow.

“I know I’m not making sense, but I just needed to say that.”

He watches me for a long beat, weighing his options no doubt, before answering, “I can’t be your teacher, Katniss…” he sighs, and rubs his forehead, “because I’m afraid seeing you every week, without being able to touch you will be absolute torture.”

“Really?” I bite my lip, giving him an open once over, not feeling one iota self conscious about. “How come?”

Peeta huffs, avoiding my eyes. “I’d be wondering what your breasts look like the whole time.” He confesses, flatly. “I didn’t get a chance to see them last night, and it kept me awake an indecent amount of time.” He twists his lips, “I’m gonna be pinning the whole semester, whether you’re in the classroom or not, craving the taste of your juices in my tongue, and worse of all, I’ll probably embarrass myself, giving me involuntary hard on’s just fantasizing about you.”

I practically prowl towards him. “You poor thing,” I coo, pouting. “Would you go home to masturbate on the soiled pair of panties I left behind on that dirty, bathroom floor?” I ask… more like, purr, really.

Peeta chuffs out an incredulous laugh, covering his face with both hands. He grunts, “Aw, fuck! That sounds so… it’s probably exactly what could happen. I’d try to stay professional in the classroom, but in the privacy of my home…” he chuckles weakly, shaking his head.

“What kind of fantasies are we entertaining here?” I ask, invested, and sit on the corner of his desk.

Peeta thins out his mouth, “Katniss… that’s a slippery slope you’re trying to climb,” he warns.

“Humor me?” I cajole.

He takes a stuttering breath. “I’ll bring you into this office, same way I did today, except I’ll rip your clothes off, throw you on the desk and take you hard and fast. From behind.”

I can’t stop a small sound at the back of my throat, nor the need to rub my thighs together.

I clear my throat, “I expect you’d want to fuck me on every surface in this office?”

Peeta pulls on the collar of his shirt, his face turning crimson, “And probably the lecture hall as well,” he adds conversationally.

I nod, scooting closer to where he sits. “I’m curious too you know. I didn’t get to see ‘any’ part of you naked. But my muscles still are deliciously sore from last night. A girl has to wonder… just how big a dick has to be to cause so much wreckage?”

It doesn’t take much effort at all to work him up. Peeta’s pants are tented in what looks like the most uncomfortable erection ever; he shifts in his chair to try and hide the effect my words have on him, yet, his hands remain folded on his lap, white knuckled with the effort of keeping himself in check. He’s really committed not to touch me while I’m still his student, but he rasps a question, full of concern.

“Did I hurt you?” His eyes search me, earnestly. “I’m sorry I was too rough, really,”

My heart gives a little somersault. “No, Peeta. You were pure perfection. I loved how you handled me.”

His lips twitch, and I’m amazed at how expressive his face is, even partially hidden under his near facial hair. “You said you were hungry last night before you got on your knees…” I murmur, “I think, next time I’ll return the favor,”

“Next time?”

I slide closer to him, but we both keep our hands to ourselves.

I lick my lips, resisting the urge to drop on my knees between his legs and gobble up his cock. I didn’t lie about wanting to see him in all his naked glory, but I can show the same level of restraint he does; I respect him for trying to keep a moral and ethical compass.

I smirk at him, slyly. “Are you sure you wanna abandon your post as my professor, now that my education is on the balance? We can wait a handful of months, Doctor Mellark… I promise not to tease you,” With that, I mean, I promise not to aggravate what could potentially be the worst case of blue balls in the history of slow burns.

Peeta hisses a mirthless chuckle, “You’re too much of a temptation, even if you don’t actively try teasing me, Katniss,”

I start playing with the end of my braided, dark hair. “You know what I’m most really looking forward to, from when I’m no longer your student?” I pose, shyly, “Going to that dinner you mentioned last night.” I shrug one shoulder. “I’ll let you buy me a stack of pancakes to celebrate my graduation. I’ll probably introduce you to my sister, Primrose… and we’d go from there… if you wanted to…”

Peeta smiles, disarmingly. “I’d love that too, Miss Everdeen.” He says quietly.

I let go of my braid, and hug myself, “Stay in the class?” I practically beg one last time. “We can do it, I know we can. We can have a platonic, completely innocent teacher-student relationship until I’m done with college,”

Peeta shakes his head. “We’ll see after I talk to my head of department. Who knows, maybe all the schedules are already locked in place, and I have no other choice but to stay put. There’s no guarantee a replacement is available for me.”

“We’ll make it work!” I say enthusiastically.

“Maybe…” he sighs, not entirely convinced.

I pull my phone out of my pocket to check the time. Time is running out, I gotta get to the pharmacy before my window of opportunity closes.

“Hey, Peeta… um, invasive, weird question?”

I wait for him to nod.

“Have you by any chance, have gotten a vasectomy at any point?”

“Mmm no, never had. Why?”

Aw shit!

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Hopefully no reason.” I say quickly, too nonchalant for my own good, and he catches on it, I can see the gears turning in his brain, “Okay,” I make a big show of yawning and stretching my arms, “I have to run some errands before going home and crashing for the night.”

Peeta cringes, “Are you… okay? Really, okay? You said you were sore?” His eyes rove over my face full of concern.

“I’m fine,” I smile, “nothing a long soaking in Epsom salts can’t cure.”

“Okay,” he says, unsure. “I don’t want to overstep any worse than I already have, but… I’ve been anxious, wondering if you were alright, if you got home fine to your sister since you left the club. Which, obviously you did… but, I wanted to kick myself for not asking your number, just to be able to check on you… and this is frown upon, a d completely unethical, but—“

“I’ll email you,” I say quickly. “Nothing explicit. But I’ll let you know I’m home and okay.” I’ve spoken to people in code before, this shouldn’t be a problem, and really, sending my professor an email with a time stamp and some innocuous question about the syllabus doesn’t have to be nefarious at all.

“Alright… Just let me know if there’s anything wrong, okay? I swear this won’t become a routine thing or anything, just this time, to give me peace of mind, and because it is late… and well, yesterday…”

“It’s fine, professor. I don’t mind. And… everything will work out,” I say shouldering my bag and pocketing my phone, “everything will work out, even if my Plan B doesn’t,” I smile and scurry out the door, before the puzzlement in his face has time to settle.

After all, a semester is only 15 weeks long, give or take… that’s plenty of time to figure things out.

#alliswell21 #animekpopxx #prompt 144 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

124 notes · View notes