#i think she turned out as disgruntled and cute as i am feeling

[giggly-squiggily]

Babysitter's Guide To Watching Eri (My Hero Academia)

Heyo! This is a gift for the ever amazing @thatbigbisexual29 A while back we were talking about Bakugou and Eri and how cute they'd be as a duo, and thus; this fic has been born! This is pretty self indulgent and likely OOC but who cares- it's Bakugou and Eri! I hope y'all like it! :D

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@myreygn @duckymcdoorknob @baby-tickles2022 @cupcake-spice13 @backy-san @nutzgunray-lvt @sarahmaystock5578 @rachi-roo @mochigiggle @chibisstuff

Summary: In an unexpected turn of events, Bakugou is tasked with babysitting Eri for the day.

When it came to looking after Eri, a few faces immediately came to mind.

First of course was Mirio. The kind hearted hero adored the girl and would bend over backwards to entertain her whenever Aizawa and Mic had hero work to attend to. It didn’t matter what was going on- he was ready to rush over and play whenever needed.

The next was Midoriya. If Mirio was busy or they simply desired another playmate, they’d grab the freckled boy from his studies and invite him over. He’d run through the door with a proud “I am here!” that left Eri squealing in glee and Mirio chucking at how into his role he got for the little girl.

There were others; Nejiri who was always down to play dress up and princess tea party with Eri; Shinsou who helped her with her drawings and watched movies with her; and the U-A girls like Uraraka and Tsuyu who always took her to fun places like the space zone or the aquarium, pointing out cool things and treating her to snacks.

Alas- none of those options were available today for Eri. Mirio and Nejire had work, Midoriya and the girls were finishing their internships, and Shinsou was in extra classes for the hero course. Things were rather…tense as the realization hit them.

“What are we gonna do? We can’t bring her with us during our patrol!” Mic was pacing around the room back and forth in thought, just barely avoiding pulling out his hair. “And all the pro’s are busy- oh man why of all the days!”

“We’ll figure it out. We just need to find someone on short notice.” Aizawa slumped forward in his seat, trying to think. Who was available with no plans today? “Yaoyorozu maybe?”

“Yeah! No…wait- Midnight needed her.” Mic deflated. “Oh! What about Tokoyami?”

“Hawks.” They said at the same time, shaking their heads. “Nearly all the students are being taken up for missions right now- it’s not fair to expect them to bail for our sake. What do we do…” Mic doubled over the desk, holding his head.

Just then- an answer walked through the door.

“Hey- Mr. Aizawa, Best Jeanist texted. He said he wouldn’t be able to take me with him today- some emergency came up.” Bakugou knocked before poking his head through the door, looking a bit disgruntled. “Should I see if Endeavor needs more hands?”

Aizawa and Mic looked at eachother.

“Endeavor has plenty of hands.” Aizawa spoke, finalizing their decision. “However, we do need a favor…”

~~~

A babysitter job. Him- babysitting!

Good grief.

“Okay- here’s everything she’ll need. Eri’s fairly independent, so really the only thing you need to do is entertain her while we’re gone.” Mic had handed him a whole list- A LIST! Of things Eri liked. Everything from her favorite toys to her favorite drinks and snacks- all the movies she loved and games she usually played, etc. etc.

“We should be back a little after lunchtime so if you could take care of that; we have pre-made meals in the fridge, you just need to heat them up. Oh- and careful with the microwave; we don’t know what happened but it’s acting weird. Try not to hit any odd numbers, kay?”

“Odd numbers-wait; how long did you say?” Bakugou stammered as Mic bounced out the door, putting on his hero face. “Is this an all day thing?”

“Is that a problem?” Aizawa raised a brow. “Do you have anything planned today?”

“Well…no, I just…I’m not-” Bakugou waved his arms, feeling a bit helpless. “I’m not exactly great with kids.”

Aizawa softened, reaching out and patting Bakugou’s shoulder. “From what I’ve heard, you did fine with the kids during your remedial classes.”

“That’s only because they were a bunch of snot nosed brats. Plus I had help” Bakugou grumbled.

“That was a bunch of kids. This is Eri- the farthest thing from a brat.” Aizawa squeezed his arm before pulling back, adjusting his scarf. “She’s a good girl and doesn’t need much. Try not to scare her. You know how you can be.”

“I’m not-” Bakugou growled, then snapped his mouth shut when he realized he was proving Aizawa’s point. “Fine. I’ll be…gentle.”

“Thank you again, Bakugou. We truly appreciate it.” Aizawa nodded before heading out, officially leaving Eri in the teen’s care.

“...Heh. Okay, squirt- where do we even-” Bakugou turned to face her but found…nothing. She was nowhere to be seen. “Eri? Hey, where are you?”

Poking his head down the hall, he found her hiding behind a door frame, peeking at him. “You good, kid?”

Eri seemed…scared. Bakugou winced at himself; he hadn’t even talked to her today yet and he already scared her. Sighing, he squatted down to her level, offering a hand. “Look- I know I seem scary, but I promise I’m not gonna yell at you. Whatever you want to do today, we can do, alright?”

The girl seemed to relax some, her expression still nervous. Slowly, she crept towards him, little hands folded on her chest as she looked at her feet. “Sorry…”

“Huh? Why are you apologizing?” She winced at his tone. He internally punched himself. “Er-sorry. Why are you apologizing? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You have to watch me. I ruined your day.” She sounded close to tears. Bakugou felt his chest hurt. Did she hear him calling after Mic?

“No, no kid- you didn’t ruin anything. My day hasn’t even started yet.” With some hesitation, he reached out and patted her head, making her look up. “If you heard me talking to your papa, it wasn’t anything bad about you, I swear. I just don’t know how to…” he waved a hand between them, shrugging in such a manner that he got a smile. “But we can figure this out. We can play whatever you want- including…” He looked at the list, wincing. “Fairy Princess Ball.”

Eri giggled, her nerves easing away as she bounced up to him. “I love that game! But I always play it with Neji. I want to play something else.”

“Sure kid, let’s see.” Bakugou looked at the list once more, but Eri put her hands over it, pushing it down with a headshake.

“No list! I want to play something new.” She looked up at him, eyes dancing. “Something you came up with…erm…”

“Bakugou.” He gave her his name, watching her light up. “But I guess Katsuki is fine if  you want.”

“Ba…Baku..” She stammered on the words, then she looked at him. “Kacchy.”

“Close enough.”

~~~

“Ahoy my crew! We’re approaching deadly waters!” Eri cried from her pillow fort on the couch, holding a circular cushion in her small hands like a steering wheel. “They say a mean old sea monster lives here- we must be careful!”

“Oi who you calling old-er I mean…Grrrrrrr!” Eri giggled at the growling heard beneath a nearby blue blanket, slowly getting closer and closer to her “ship”. Behind her, her crew of squishmellows sat aligned, all dressed in pirate outfits and ready to assist.

“Do you hear that? It’s getting closer!” Eri looked around, pushing up her pirate hat as she searched for the monster. “Let’s turn to-”

“ROAR!” Bakugou shot from the blanket, a dragon hat on his head as he raised his arms high. Eri squealed, falling back in her pillows with a giggly shriek. “I’m a sea monster! And I’m gonna eat your boat!”

“Noo! Quick- Yuki! Save us!” Eri chucked her nearest Squishmellow at him, watching it bounce off his chest harmlessly. Bakugou flailed backwards anyway, pretending to be hit. “Go, go!”

“Gah! No! Not the dreaded squish!” He cried out as she assaulted him with squishmellow after squishmellow, finally jumping on him when she ran out. “Ah! No! It’s the Pirate Princess Eri!”

“That’s right! And I’m gonna take you out, Mr. Sea Monster! Take THIS!” She shot her hands out, scribbling them all over his belly with reckless abandon.

“AH! Ahehahahahhaa! Whahahahit- wahahhhahait I didiihihihihn’t agrehehehehehehehee to thihihihihiihs!” Bakugou spasmed with a yelp, not at all prepared for such acts! Semi buried beneath squishmellows, the blonde laughed and squirmed, fighting the urge to curse in front of Eri. “Ehahhhahahhaha, you brahhahahahhat! This ihihhihihihisn’t fahahahhahair!”

“He he he! Looks like you’re no match for the great Eri-EHH!” The little girl squealed when Bakugou suddenly lunged, gathering her up and gently tickling her back. “Ahehahahahahahahaha! Kahahhaahahahchy!”

“Who’s Kacchy? I’m the dreadful sea monster, remember? Forget eating your ship, I’m gonna eat YOU!” He roared playfully as he carried on tickling her, making Eri squeal and kick in glee. “I’m gonna roll you in flour, bake you and then eat you up bones and all!”

“Ahehahhhahahhaa! Nohohohoohohohoo!” Eri rolled out of his arms, running for her boat. “Stahhahay awhawhhahahay!” She squealed through her giggles as she grabbed her squishmellow, smacking him with it. “Tahhake that!”

“Oh, it is ON!” He grabbed the smallest squish he could find, lightly swatting back at her as she laughed herself silly. For someone so small, she sure could pack a hit!

RIIIIIP!

“Oh no!” Eri cried, freezing Bakugou in his spot. The squishmellow she was using to attack had suddenly ripped open- a huge gaping hole in the side. Stuffing rolled down the couch, littering the floor. “Yuki…”

Yuki…oh shit. That was one of her favorite toys from the list.

“Oh man, kid…” Bakugou paled upon looking at the mess. Eri’s eyes filled with tears.

Bakugou looked at her, then at the toy. Then he sighed, pulling off the dragon hat.

“No tears, Doctor Eri. We have a patient to fix.” He announced, making her look up. “Hang on- I have something that can fix Yuki.

~~~

“I didn’t know you could sew!” Eri sat wide eyed as she watched Bakugou carefully stitch back up her toy, his handiwork slow but consistent. “Where’d you learn that?”

“A hero has tons of tricks.” Bakugou grinned at her, pushing the fallen stuffing back in as he went along. “My parents are in the fashion business. My dad makes clothes while my mom models them. I helped them out a few summers- mainly just taking care of rips and tears in the clothes.”

“Wow…” Eri leaned into her hands, taking it all in. “Papa…he got me Yuki as a present when I first started living here.”

Ah. That made sense why the plush was so faded. It also explained Eri’s reaction. “Did he now?”

“Mm-hm! He came home with it one day- told me it was a present for my birthday!” Eri smiled at the memory, cheeks flushing with fondness for her adoptive parents. “It wasn’t really my birthday, but it was the first real gift from Daddy and Papa- I love it very much.”

Bakugou didn’t have much to say about that, finishing off the last stitch before puffing Yuki up some. “There we go. Good as new- er; minus the big scar.”

Eri practically tackled him, hugging his arm with a teary grin. “Thank you, Kacchy. And I don’t mind the scar. All the people I love have them.”

That’s when he realized she was looking at him too, at the faded scars along his bicep.

“Heh, I guess they do.” He laughed through a thick voice.

~~~

“Alright- let’s see…which one kid?” Bakugou presented both meals to Eri, watching her look each one over. It was around the afternoon when he got a text from Aizawa; turns out they weren’t gonna be back until late that evening; meaning it was up to Bakugou to prepare her meal.

“Hmm…this one!” She pointed, pleased with her decision. Bakugou nodded, putting the other away before popping the pre-made meal into the microwave. “Daddy makes the best food!”

“He does.” Bakugou agreed, knowing just how good Aizawa was as a cook. “He once made-”

The microwave beeped and shook. Bakugou paled upon realizing his mistake.

Don’t press any of the odd buttons!

“ERI MOVE!” Bakugou ran at her, gathering her up and leaping just as the microwave exploded. Glass and semi cooked food flew across the kitchen, the smell of smoke strong as the inside of the microwave sizzled. A small flame remained within.

Bakugou blinked, then he looked over Eri. Besides looking utterly shocked, she didn’t have any wounds or burns. Nodding, he quickly grabbed the fire extinguisher, putting out the remains of the microwave. Once done, he grabbed a wooden spoon and batted out the plug. “There. Eri, are you okay?”

The girl seemed stunned, wide eyed and shaky. Bakugou kneeled before her, voice gentle. “Eri?”

“Erm…yeah. I’m okay.” She nodded, shaking out of her shock as she met his eye. “What about you?”

“Nothing broken here. Sorry I blew up dinner.” He laughed some, looking back at the mess. “Er…want pizza?”

~~~ “And that is that.” Bakugou huffed as he and Eri flopped into the couch, fairly exhausted. The kitchen was clean once more, and a box of pizza with only the crust remaining laid on the coffee table. In the background, a movie with talking fish carried on. Eri insisted it was a great movie. If he were being honest, she was right. “What a day. Sorry I kinda messed everything up, kid.”

“What do you mean? I had so much fun today!” She smiled up at him, sleepy. “We played pirates and sea monsters, you fixed Yuki, and we got to eat pizza and watch movies! I’m glad you came today, Kacchy.”

Bakugou grinned, something warm setting in his chest as she scooted closer to him, lying against his side. “I’m sure Mirio or Deku would have been better.”

“Maybe. But you’re great in your own way.” She yawned, huffing some before closing her eyes. “Thanks for being here, Kacchy…I appreciate it…”

“Eri?” He looked down to find her sleeping with a happy smile on her face. Chuckling, he petted back her hair away from her peaceful expression.

“Glad to be there for you kid.”

Thanks for reading!

#mha/bnha #fluff #all the fluff #bakugou katsuki #eri #babysitting antics #soft!bakugou #I tried to keep him in character as much as possible but like... #come on #he'd be so soft with Eri #tickle fights #cooking mishaps #movies and games #They are precious your honor

[kaepop-trash]

OH MY GOD I WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS WHEN JOHNNY COMES BACK FROM HIS TRIP AND DID Y/N CALL JAEHYUN BACK THE NEXT DAY????? YOUR STORIES KEEP ME ALIVE SRSLY

The Cost of Hindsight

The drabble before this answered your other question. I hope you like this, I would love to know what you think! Honestly, I think my rigour as a writer comes back in such full force when you guys just talk to me, I think it makes me feel like I am actually writing for someone and not just sending these out into space. So thanks for the awesome compliment you put in there too!

Feedback is always appreciated!

_

Summary: (Y/N) surprises Johnny at the airport, Mark senses something between them. Later, Johnny reminisces on the past, making a surprising confession. (I re-wrote this 8 times and it still ended up sounding like a tv guide synopsis for a cable episode)

Warnings: Smut, Riding, dirty talking, humiliation kink, hair pulling (Johnny has a thing for hair in this one).

WC: 3.8k

Mini Masterlist

(Y/N) had been waiting with Mark for Johnny to arrive for upwards of two hours by now. His flight was delayed, causing the wait to be turned out to be longer than expected. With nothing else to do, the two most unlikely companions turned to small talk.

Mark talked about his job, how he was on the fence about investing in Jaemin’s company, and about his desire to get a pet dog. They were so deep in conversation that she didn’t notice how fast time had passed. Only when Mark’s phone rang did it occur that Johnny had probably landed.

“He just picked up his bags. On his way.” Mark spoke as he put his phone back in his pocket.

It was at that moment when (Y/N) started feeling a hint of nerves. 

When Mark asked her to come along to pick Johnny up, she thought it could be a cute surprise. Now she wondered if she had maybe overstepped, walking into a situation she wasn’t invited to. Johnny had asked Mark to come pick him up, not her.

She didn’t even get the time to linger on the thought, much less rationalise it. Mark raised his arm, waving at the entrance.

She turned, lifting herself on her toes to search for him in the crowd, then immediately deciding to cower. Would he really find it weird, or would it just be a fun surprise like Mark had told her? She pushed her thoughts aside when she finally spotted him.

Johnny spotted Mark first, his lost eyes crinkling into a smile as he pulled his hand out of his jacket to wave. When Mark’s gaze moved over his own shoulder, Johnny’s followed. He did a double take, squinting like he was making sure he was seeing correctly.

When he was certain, his first response was surprise. A disgruntled person knocked into Johnny’s knees with a trolley. She winced the same time Johnny jumped.

That must have hurt. 

He mumbled a quick apology despite being the innocent victim in the exchange, turning to look at her again and once again squinting like he still wasn't sure. Then he smiled in a way that radiated from the distance, through the large crowd and considerable distance that stood between them. It made her forget everything in that moment.

There were, seemingly, two distinct sides of Johnny that she'd witnessed. Like a switch that could be flipped when the occasion calls for it. 

He could go from being a fun, teasing friend of almost juvenile proportions, to the most indecent yet attentive lover. 

Johnny was the kind of man who put his hand behind her head when she reached for things in cupboards before joking about how clumsy she could be. Yet he was also the one shoving her against the first wall he could find when the switch flipped.

They were easy to tell apart as well, so different were these two sides. Somehow both him and not, the same Johnny who had the most gentle disposition was also the one who had the most debaucherous words and a deliciously rough touch. They were opposing sides that somehow only made sense with him. She was equally fascinated by both. 

What baffled her was that it was hard to tell when he chose to flip the switch. And it made it hard to figure out when she was meant to be a friend to him and when something else.

There were moments when Johnny would do the most endearing thing while he was being a friend. Like when he breaks off a piece of anything new he’s eating and hands it over without her asking, the time he tried to make fluffy pancakes for breakfast and overheated his stand mixer. Or all the times he quietly paid for her half of dinner when her budget was tight at the end of a month. Such moments would be so dear that she'd want nothing more than to kiss him then and there, especially because he seemingly did it without a thought. But it was difficult to tell if that crossed one of the many steep boundaries they regularly traversed.

It was easier around people. Outside the confines of their private spaces, amongst others, they maintained their dynamic easily. As Johnny always reiterated, they were friends first. Good friends who didn't need to try too hard at all to act like it.

But when alone, (Y/N) found herself looking for a sign from him before she could shift into the other side of their relationship. The one where she could tilt over and kiss him because Johnny remembered to stock her favourite cookies before she came over for the weekend.

But there were some confusing moments when this shift sometimes happened in a crowd. Those were the moments that edged on madness. Where the two distinct sides of their friendship melted into one brief look, so ready to risk being discovered just for reassurance. To remind themselves of their little secret, confirm its existence. Like on the night Irene and Taeil announced their engadement, or the time Johnny was a little too drunk and Hyuk’s simple question about where he learned to cook turned into a long ode to (Y/N)’s patience and perserverence.

It was also exactly how she felt right now.

The moment their eyes met across the airport exit, the world around them disappeared. The loud chaos of the terminal dissolved away and what mattered was the look in his eyes, the curve of his lips. 

He was happy to see her, beaming while his gaze remained unwavering on her face. As he walked closer, she could see the colours shift in his gaze. Something softer blurred the edges of his gaze and she could tell what he was trying to say. 

He missed her. 

She hoped that her eyes told him the same. But she doubted one look could ever word the intensity of her sentiment. She wasn’t sure if words could either. Her chest seemingly tugged, urging to drift towards him. Perhaps no words, look or gesture she had the capacity for could ever express how Johnny made her feel. 

Or the way she felt about him.

“Hi.” He came and stood in front of her, lips pursed like he was failing to hide his grin, “What a pleasant surprise.”

“I couldn’t wait to see you.” The words slipped out, forgetting the place, the circumstances, and the company. She bit down on her bottom lip. Johnny’s cheeks turned a dark red, biting the corner of his mouth.

“I’m still here.” Mark laughed awkwardly.

The words reminded her of where they were. She had made a mistake, confusing the two sides. 

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing (Y/N).” Johnny turned away, looking unfazed. She wished she was as good as him at this.

“Yeah, I thought it would be a nice surprise.” Mark looked between them, eyes full of contemplation.

“It is.” Johnny smiled, walking up to give Mark a hug. “Thanks for bringing my car. I’ll drop you home.” He patted his back, “Both of you.” He turned back to her, both of them laughing awkwardly. Sometimes Johnny slipped too, forgetting the two sides.

Those were perhaps the moments when she lost her mind the most.

_

She squeezed her arms tighter around Johnny’s neck, breath shallow.

"How does it feel?" Johnny questioned, tone patronising. He reached up, pushing the hair back that was sticking to her face, gripping down at the hair at the base of her neck.

“Do you like controlling the pace?” He cooed at her, tone mocking.

Her lips parted, only a gasp leaving them when he bucked his hips up to meet her halfway. An attempt to make her words harder to conjure.

"Hmm?" He questioned, pulling her head back with his secure hold. "Do you like it?" He hummed with a softer tone, opening his palm for her to nuzzle into. “You were riding your pillow so well just yesterday, what happened? Can you only be a slut on camera?” He cooed.

She squeezed her eyes, the words making a wash of humiliation trickle down till it settled between her legs.

“You were supposed to get it for me weren’t you? The pillow? What happened?” He asked, patting her cheek to get her attention. “Did you keep the cover for me like I asked?”

She whined, cheeks flushing at his filthy words. Her hand left his neck to push him, silently begging him to stop. 

Johnny laughed, “You were being so bold on our call? What happened? Why are you suddenly pretending like you weren't the one begging to hear these words last night?” 

Her hips moved faster, spurred on by his taunts.

“Will you do it for me again? Ride your pillow in front of me this time?” He asked. She shook her head vehemently, forehead knitting in distress. “Why not?” He laughed, dragging his nails through her scalp before fixing his hands on her waist, assisting her glide.

“It’s embarrassing.” She managed to get the words out with a struggle. The next moment she bit down on her bottom lip, Johnny’s arms finally making her move in the right way. “Why do you enjoy embarrassing me?” She whined again.

“Considering the way you’ve been clenching around me, Peanut. I should ask you why you enjoy being embarrassed.” She hid her head in his neck, Johnny chuckling at the act.

“I do not.” She huffed.

“Do too.” He responded, thrusting his pelvis up to meet her halfway.

“Shit, I’m going to come.” She clawed at his back, “Johnny.” She urged, digging her face deeper into his neck.

He shushed her, “I’ve got you.” His reassuring voice matched his rhythm, fingers tightening on her waist.

"I know." She panted, her insides clenching down tight. Johnny groaned, moving his hips up in search of his own high.

Johnny came first, his grip on her waist tightening as he rammed into her as hard as he could from below. The erratic thrusts send her off too, biting down on his shoulder as she came crashing down.

They sat there in silence, pants turned to shallow breaths. "Did you miss me?" Johnny asked, hands sliding up her back.

"Uh huh," She nodded, too exhausted to speak coherently.

"I didn't think you would." There was an edge in his voice that made her stir. She sat back, looking him in the eyes.

"Why wouldn't I?" She asked, brows furrowing. He looked her face over, smiling and giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"This was a boring trip." He said instead of answering her, "You should have come." 

"Probably because the weather forced you to stay in the hotel most of the days." She scoffed, Johnny didn't respond.

They got ready for bed in relative silence, fixing the crumpled sheets and putting on the first thing they could find.

“How was your day?” Johnny asked once they were under the covers, so tired that the question occurred to him much later.

“Same old.” (Y/N) sighed, “Don’t ask about work.” She groaned, hating the topic.

“Have you decided if you’re ready to look for a new job?” He asked, making her look away from his concerned gaze to the ceiling.

“How will it matter? I’ll hate that too probably, at least at this one I know what I’m dealing with.”

“You just need to find something you like.” Johnny encouraged, nudging her with a gentle shove.

“It’s not that simple. Some of us aren’t gifted with passion. I wasn’t born with a single defining talent like you or Jaemin. Neither was I born with Jaehyun and Mark’s insatiable drive.” She groaned, feeling her eyes well a little at the corners. 

“I’m just me.” She sighed. “Unremarkable.”

“No one is unremarkable. Least of all you.” Johnny chastised her. “One of these days, you will find something you actually like. Dare I say, something you love. Even if you don’t, even if it’s a dumb office job you do to pay the bills, your life has more value than a stupid job, (Y/N).” His fingers closed around the edge of the tshirt she was wearing. “You’re gifted with so many other things.”

She didn’t say anything, not wanting to sound like she was complaining but not believing him either. Johnny sighed, sensing it. To her relief, he didn’t say anything, probably sensing her mood as well. She didn’t want to talk about this now.

In the silence that followed, her eyes got heavier and sleep began to fill the distressed crevices of her mind with a promise of temporary relief.

Just before her eyes could close, she heard Johnny's clumsy shifting. An arm closed around her, dragging her close enough for him to dig his nose into her cheek.

So close, she could hear the small sigh that came from somewhere deep in his throat.

"I think I almost missed you." He mumbled, words muffled from being half asleep. His words, as usual, were carefully formed to not sound instigating— a joke as he called it. The tip of his nose traced a dizzying journey all over her neck. Johnny grunted from approval when she lifted her head to accommodate him, squeezing her firmly.

His journey stopped in her hair, where he buried his nose and took a large inhale. They stayed like that for a long time, till the otherwise cold night became balmy under the blanket.

“I’m hot.” Her voice was muffled in his shoulder, a silent request for him to move.

“Yeah you are.” He chuckled, patting her ass.

He pulled back, laughing louder when his words made her huff. Then there was another bout of silence as Johnny stared at the ceiling. She could tell that he had something on his mind. She fell into deep contemplation herself, wondering whether she should ask what was bothering him.

He sighed, taking in another deep breath that made his chest visibly deflate.

"You know," Johnny spoke to the ceiling, her heavy eyes fluttering open at the words. "I've been thinking about our university days a lot recently." He looped his finger into the chain he wore around his neck a few times. Fidgeting, she realised.

(Y/N) propped her head on her arm, turning on her side to face him.

"Yeah? Like what?" She asked, smiling at the thought.

"Well, a lot of things I suppose. I was just reminiscing. I can't believe it's been so long."

She hissed at the mention and Johnny smiled, eyes fixed above like he was picturing the past.

"But there's this one thing I keep coming back to." He said after a pause, unfurling the chain from his finger before wrapping it again.

"What is it?" She asked after he didn't speak for another pause.

Johnny turned, eyes dancing over her entire face. "Do you remember the first time we met?" He looked hopeful.

"At that house party?" She questioned, her memory fuzzy.

"No," Johnny turned back to the ceiling with a sigh, a fraction of the light disappearing from his eyes. "In that political philosophy class."

"Oh that's right. You came and sat beside me. You were in that red hoodie." She tried to recall, raising a brow when he scoffed.

"Yeah." His lips lifting before a brief laugh filled the room, "I can't believe you remember that."

"I remember thinking 'man that guy looks nice in red'." She teased, hoping he wouldn't realise it was the truth.

His face seemed to fall at the words, smile no longer reaching his eyes. She couldn’t understand what she said wrong.

"You had more to say than the professor." Johnny recalled, turning to look at her again. "I'm pretty sure you would have taught the class better too."

"I'm pretty sure a vacuum cleaner could teach that class better than him." She frowned, remembering the way the man wasted the syllabus.

Johnny laughed again, turning over on his side, "You said something similar that day too." His forehead gathered as he tried to remember what it exactly was, giving up after a moment. "You corrected him each time under your breath." Johnny grinned.

“I had never seen a single person have such strikingly wrong opinions.” She huffed, the memory still frustrated her.

“You wrote down everything he mentioned and when I asked you why, you said it was so you could verify it yourself later. It was the first week of university and I could not believe that someone could care that much about an extra credit/” Johnny laughed under his breath again. "All I wanted to do was ask for your number."

Her heart stopped, the words said so casually that for a moment she wasn't sure she heard him right.

"But then I thought that could be weird. What if I put you in a weird position?" He clicked his tongue, eyes lost in his memories again. "So I decided to write my number down on a piece of paper. This small chit I tore from the back of that political philosophy book because it was the first week and I didn't carry a notebook."

His eyes came back into focus, turning to look at her and giving a sad smile. Her heart picked up at the look, an unknown dread seeping into her.

"I was ready to give it to you right after class. I thought of something smooth to say to seal the deal too." He licked his lips, looking nervous for some unfathomable reason.

She wanted to ask why he didn't, realising once the thought formed in her mind that her inner voice was too ardent, filled with palpable regret.

"But then I asked you your major and you asked me the same." His voice faded.

This time she knew what he meant, remembering the words she said to him. The moment he told her, she responded with a single statement. It wasn't supposed to mean anything, but in hindsight the weight of the words pressed against her chest like sleep paralysis.

"Oh, you're in Jaehyun's class."

She bit down on her lip, like she was trying to reel in those words from the past. Her words must have had the spark of hope she had back then, having only just met Jaehyun a day before the time they were recalling. Still, she wondered why it would stop Johnny.

"I keep thinking about that." He confessed, giving her a look laced with regret. "How I should have given you that piece of paper anyway. The one I never forgot to throw out of that ratty pencil case I had. "I keep asking myself if all of this would have been different if I had. What would be different and what not." He continued, the jingle of the chain around his neck returning as he fidgeted. "Maybe I'm getting it all wrong and it would be a disaster. Would we be like we are now? Or would it be like the relationship I did have in university? All I know is that I should have given you that piece of paper."

She watched him in silence, sorrow seeping into her heart at those words. It left her with a gaping hole in her chest— the size of possibilities. Like most of her existence, this also became a what if that crippled her with its unrealised prospects; rendering her incapable of words.

"It doesn't matter now." She conjured words she didn't herself believe, "What good will thinking of these things do?"

Johnny's lips twitched like he didn't believe her. "That's funny coming from you." Both of them snorted. "I guess you're right. It was just a thought I couldn't shake, I was hoping that letting it out would make it quieter."

She shifted closer to him, "I think," Hesitating, she brushed her knuckled on his cheek. "I think that we wouldn't be who we are without the things we've seen, what we’ve lived. Who we are now matters more than who we could have been, no? Maybe we wouldn't be who we are to each other without everything that came in between."

Johnny looked her over slowly, like he was studying one of his photographs. "About that, you're right." He reached out to comb his fingers through her hair, sighing when she dissolved into his touch.

He took in a breath like he was going to say something. Her eyes became so heavy with sleep in his touch that she didn't notice time passed, opening her eyes to see if he would say what was on his mind.

“There’s the other thing too.” He said softly, his eyes glittering from the distant lights out his large windows. This time, she knew exactly what he meant.

“The kiss.” She sighed. He nodded, the weight of the words making him sink further into the mattress, his weight taking her along.

Johnny turned to her, his eyes deeply thoughtful. “That is the one I should regret. But in all these years–” His voice trailed off.  

She wanted nothing more than to reach out to him at that moment. Yet, for some reason, Johnny never felt more distant than he did now. The same weight between them rendered her immobile.

She yearned for him then, something she realised she had never done before. Johnny was the one who always showed up, the one always by her side. She had needed his presence and she had craved his touch. But this was new and it weighed down heavier than everything that came before.

He turned to face her and she wondered if he could sense it. If the strings in her hurt tugged so hard because they were pulling him to her. He shifted closer, his nose brushing against hers.

She pressed her lips against his and Johnny’s breath caught in his throat. His hand came to her back, not moving her closer but just keeping her in place. Like he should have done all those years ago. When she pushed him away, realising her mistake.

But there was no pushing away tonight. Instead, she pressed closer to his chest, taking a shallow breath to keep kissing him without stopping. Johnny wanted to freeze this moment forever, to remember every little gasp and every twitch of his fingers.

When they finally pulled away, she put her forehead against his cheek.

 “I’m so glad I walked up to you at the grocery store that day.” Johnny sighed, his entire chest twisting and caving as the burden of those words seemed to reveal itself only once he said it out loud.

She smiled, seemingly unaware of the true weight behind the confession.

“At least you gave me your number that time.” Her words made him chuckle.

#miscellenous #no time to blame #johnny smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #johnny drabbles #jaehyun drabbles #nct 127 drabbles #nct drabbles #nct x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct johnny #jaehyun #nct scenarios #jaehyun scenarios #johnny scenarios #johnny fluff #johnny angst #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 angst #nct 127 fluff #nct angst #johnny suh #ask

[judasgot-it]

Morning Brew

Short Scenario: Coffee before work, just some real domestic fluff. Besides Nikolai, his was what I think would constitute a 'morning' with him.

Characters: Jouno, Margaret, Yosano, Nikolai

Should mention btw that the reader is gender-neutral here!

Jouno

Your morning is spent just before the sun rises, as the world is still quiet and the sky is just beginning to gray. You've only just gotten up so you could find your boyfriend, whose warmth you were sorely lacking.

Finding him was easy though, as he was right by the coffee maker, waiting for his coffee to finish. He could have been normal and used a standard coffee maker, that used electricity and didn't make you do any work, but he had to have a pour-over coffee set. One which he listened to religiously each morning as if somehow leaving would change the flavor.

You didn't bother saying anything to him. You just reached out to his shoulders, drapping yourself over his back as you waited for the coffee with him. He reached up, taking one of your hands in his.

"Morning."

You just nodded behind his back, listening as he poured the both of you a cup of coffee. You got off, in search of the sugar and creamer.

Jouno might have been a mean man but having known him for so long, he was sweet. Like his coffee, which was half sugar. It was adorable, although you couldn't really say that straight to his face.

As you handed him the sugar and watched him scoop out copious amounts of it into his cup, you couldn't help but want to tell him that though. He had a bad bedhead and his face was scrunched up in concentration, which really made him look like a disgruntled cat - which was too cute.

You reached over and brushed some of his hair to the side, smiling a little. He looked over, finally done with his sugary monstrosity that he would never admit too.

"You're loud this morning." He mumbled, voice still gruff from sleep.

"Can't help it. You're really cute."

If he felt hot he wasn't going to tell you that. He simply walked away with his coffee cup, turning his face away.

Margaret

It was important for Margaret that you woke up with the sun, before the morning rush, and see what the day had ahead of you. Sitting down in nature and having some coffee together? This was one of her slices of heaven.

Even if it meant you were dragged out of bed at 5 am, and left to sit on a rather dirty park bench while she talked your ear off about her plans for the week. She was dedicated to her job, so of course you had to know about it as well.

It was sweet though, that you were important enough to her that she would include you though. She wasn't this open with everyone, not if she chose too.

You just watched her as you took small sips of your coffee, brushing your legs against hers and nodding along with her story. Something about her boss. You didn't really listen, but you didn't want her to feel ignored.

"You know, Fitzgerald really is a good guy, despite being kind of an asshole. Don't you agree?"

You nodded. That's her boss, right?

She smiled at that and continued her story, which you really didn't have the energy to listen to.

Looking past her head, you could see the sunrise. It was just barely hitting golden hour, so the light was starting to paint Margaret's loose strands into a perfect halo around her head.

Her hair was done as impeccably as always, despite the time, but you could still see the hairs that came out of her style despite this. They flew out from underneath her hat like little wisps of spider thread, dancing with her as she talked.

She had to know how stunning she was, holding her coffee cup as if it were porcelain and not from the local Starbucks. She was like a doll.

You couldn't help the smile that appeared on your face as you saw how happy she was - usually, she tried to stay serious, only showing off her strength. Her beauty was only ever shown as a weapon around others, but right now?

She was just beautiful. You hoped she never lost her smile.

Yosano

Spending the morning with Yosano was quite easy, now that you've lived together for so long. You've made each other's lives easier, becoming part of one another's routines.

You sat together in the bar of the cafe, waiting for your orders. It was still early, so while your drinks were being made, Yosano made small talk with the workers. You added in your 50 cents from time to time, although you were fine with sitting back and watching them.

You were still hazy from sleep, so you really needed your coffee to wake you.

Yosano wasn't bothered by this, instead talking to the redheaded girl named Lucy and laughing at a joke the girl had made - her hair bouncing alongside her as she shook her head. She added her own quip back, trying to outdo Lucy and succeeding - having the girl almost on the floor in laughter.

It made you smile, watching Yosano be in such high spirits so early in the morning.

"What's got you so happy this morning? See something you like?"

Yosano was copying you, leaning her head on hand and facing her whole body towards you. She was effervescent at that moment, as if all of the morning's beauty had concentrated towards her just so you could see how lucky you were to say that you could reach over and kiss her right now.

Which you gladly did, taking your time despite the public atmosphere you were in. You wanted to enjoy the moment as it lasted - you knew there would be a thousand more, but this one was in the now. So why not enjoy it?

"I just wanted to kiss you. You're really stunning, can't help but want to do that whenever I see you."

She smiled, putting her hand on your thigh.

"You're disgustingly sappy in the mornings. Makes me want to puke."

"Ew, not on the tables. My shift just started, ya nasties."

Lucy had chimed in, bringing the two of you your coffee's finally.

You smiled and went to take a sip of your drink - which you promptly spat out as it burnt your mouth. Yosano laughed, even as some of the coffee got onto her skirt.

You spilled some of it onto your pants as she pushed your shoulder in her laughter, making you lose almost half of your drink.

Now both of you were a mess.

Nikolai

You could barely constitute this as the 'morning' if you were being honest.

It was 3 am and you were inside of a gas station looking for an energy drink when you saw a hand popping up in front of you, taking two cans into the abyss it had come from.

You looked behind you, to see Nikolai giggling like any grown man should when he starts shoplifting. He didn't even look at you, he just walked throughout the aisles, grabbing various items with his disembodied hands that went straight back into his weird void.

Sighing, you didn't even bother. You know this would happen with him. No point in trying to be a normal citizen, so you waited until you knew it was safe to exit the building before you followed after him.

Although you doubt the poor, tired cashiers really cared enough to try and stop the two of you.

When you found him outside, his face was set straight, as if he wasn't wearing a clown costume in public, at 3 am.

Then he turned to you. And burst out laughing.

His whole body was shaking, like some cartoon villain. It would have been comical had he not lost his balance and almost fallen into you, causing you to stumble and try to catch yourself by grabbing onto him.

The two of you wobbled like that for a while, causing a scene in the middle of that empty night road. Nikolai took a while longer to calm down from his strange robbery high, finally pulling out your drink and handing it to you.

It was a pink monster, which was good enough for staying up in the morning.

"This is how I feel about you."

You looked up at him, where he kept his usual facade. He hadn't said anything, just waving the drinking around.

"You feel pink monster about me?"

You took it from his hands, opening your drink. You needed the caffeine to stay up, and badly.

"No silly, I feel like you're a rose."

You didn't comment on that. You just nodded, watching as he took out a 4loko out of his jacket for himself. He tried to open it, failing multiple times, before looking at you.

"Can you open this?"

This wasn't exactly your planned three am trip but oblidged, exchanging drinks so you could help him open his own drink. If you heard a loud sip coming from him, you elected to ignore it.

"This one actually tastes like shit. Sorry, I'll give you that new strawberry one when you finish this."

You gave him a look, exchanging drinks again.

"Mixing caffeine and alcohol is unhealthy, you know."

He smirked. He knocked back half of his drink, and turned to you.

"Staying up all night is unhealthy, but look at you being a rebel against God's orders."

You scoffed, taking a sip of your drink. You could taste his chapstick on the lid.

"I just have to be up right now because I need too. What about you? You chose to do this too didn't you?"

Nikolai smiled, putting his arm around your shoulder. He was strong and warm and it made you want to relax your shoulders, even if you needed to keep your mind awake for a long while after this.

"Rebelling isn't fun if you do it alone Y/n. Gotta have at least one person to do it with."

I honestly feel like I write about men better than women, despite having only ever dated women lol. Also idk if I'm super happy with this but I wanted to write and upload something anyways just before work.

#jouno x reader #margaret mitchell x reader #yosano x reader #nikolai x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader

[thecheckeredchaser]

Ch 5

Insured Gains

Chapter 6- Out of the Office

Alexis found herself pulled into a morning chat with Gina again. She had witnessed a disgruntled employee get removed after an HR incident. He had been hitting on one of the cleaning ladies way too much, and did not leave quietly. “He was always a creep,” Alexis said. She had encountered the greaseball in the breakroom before. A real hang on the fridge door as you look in it, type.

“No doubt,” Gina said, gazing out the big glass doors to the street. She spotted Jake Andrews’ large SUV and looked at Alexis playfully. “I think your boyfriend just arrived.” Alexis looked at her cautiously.

“What?”

“Your boss. What did I say?” she said knowingly. Gina laughed when she saw Alexis get so uptight. “I am joking Lex. Relax. Obviously you would never get with Jake Andrews. He’s cute, but definitely too much of a porker for someone so beautiful as you.” Alexis caught Jake out the corner of his eye, entering the lobby from the parking garage door. Alexis was annoyed that she could be so blatantly rude, but also felt a little absorbed in how utterly wrong she was in her assessment. Jake was exactly the kind of man for her.

“Don’t talk about him like that,” Alexis chided, lowering her voice, trying to let her know he was coming with her eyes. Gina glanced over and smiled.

“He is packing it on, girl,” she said trailing off, just not soon enough. “Good morning Jake!” Jake gave an uneasy look and greeted her, proceeding on in unison with Alexis' turn. Gina rolled her eyes and said goodbye to Alexis, who couldn’t seem to let Mr. Andrews walk to the office without her. She watched the elevator door close with jealous eyes.

“Morning Lexi,” he said.

“Morning Jake.” He looked down at his assistant and gave a tight lipped look.

“Gina was talking about me, wasn’t she?” he asked, confident of the answer. Alexis cringed.

“I told her she shouldn’t be saying anything.”

“You can’t control someone else’s mouth. You save yourself so much stress when you accept that,” he said unbothered. “Also Gina is shallow. What is new? I’d prefer, perhaps, she be more discreet.” They stepped onto their floor and Jake shrugged. “Not the first to notice, and probably not the last.” Alexis got herself settled at her desk and Jake watched. “I’m a little surprised at you,” he said, seriously. Alexis looked at him in confusion. She thought he had just said Gina’s comments were not her problem. “I certainly thought you’d bring breakfast,” he said, cheekily turning to go to his office.

Alexis got on the desk phone and called his office. He picked up. “Jake Andrews at A & G," he said, his voice melodic and vibrato rich.

“You do not play fair,” she accused playfully.

“I just thought it was a possibility. You have been spoiling me recently.”

“I think people are starting to notice too,” she teased. “I can get you anything you want.”

“Maybe we just plan to go out for lunch. You can come with me to survey projects.” Alexis knew that “survey projects” just meant driving around checking on clients and mostly not checking on anyone at all.

“That sounds pretty good. I better get to work then.”

“You certainly should,” Jake said huskily into the phone. “I don’t pay you to just look hot and get me food.” Alexis hung up and shot him a look through the window and could see he was very entertained by his teasing of her.

Alexis looked up from her document when she noticed a shadow hanging over her, clearly her imposing boss. He looked absolutely delicious in his blue suit. His jacket was open and his lavender shirt cradling his beautiful belly, which was looking thicker to her, despite her doubting that being possible. She smiled at Jake Andrews who looked ready to go.

She hadn't realized how much time had passed and was happy the time was finally upon her. She gathered her purse and jacket and followed Jake Andrews to the elevator. She was subtly aware of the nervous feeling she had. The two were leaving the building together, and there was no risk of Gibbs walking in or someone seeing anything. It felt like a date, but she wouldn't let herself fully commit to the thought. He had yet to make any distinction on what he was looking for, which only bothered her slightly. It had truly only been 4 days of expanding the confines of their "professional" relationship. She didn't expect him to fall for her like that, but she certainly felt herself falling fast.

"You're awfully quiet," Jake said, a touch uneasily in the elevator.

"Oh sorry. Just thinking." He seemed satisfied with the response and gave her the space to think. They went up to Gina’s desk. Alexis avoided the amused look Gina gave.

"Hey Jake," Gina said, drawn out.

"We are going to survey some projects. Please pass the message to Gibbs. Gonna be a while," he said, clear and firm.

"I'll let him know Jake." He nodded and turned to go, Alexis turning with him. She looked back at Gina, who also seemed to know the task was a sham. Alexis shrugged at her eyebrow raise.

"She knows," Alexis said, stress in her voice, once they were in the garage.

"Gina? Oh please." Jake continued to his car unbothered. "Gina is so vapid, I'm surprised she manages her position. How would she know?"

"Women notice things. I'm just worried."

"Well, I hear your worry. Let's talk about it over lunch. I'm far too hungry to think at all." That comment helped her get Gina off her mind. Jake's hunger was like a bass drum, constant, steady, and loud. "Are you ok with a buffet?" Alexis beamed.

"You didn't mean to ask me that." Jake smirked.

"I thought you'd be fine with it."

"The real question is are you even sure what you're doing?" The corner of his mouth turned up. He beeped the button on his keys.

"She's open," he said, getting in the SUV after Alexis opened the passenger door. Once in the car, Alexis took a satisfied look around, taking in the cleanliness and fresh leather smell. "I presume the reading I did last night was correct. You feeder girls can't resist establishments of the sort." Alexis stared back at him. "I know a little of what I could be getting into."

"Research?" Jake chuckled in response, as he pulled out of the garage. She drank in the view of him driving from the side. His belly resting heavy in his lap. His strong arm gripped the wheel in a confident and relaxed way. He was a total babe.

"I'm not walking into this unprepared. Is that like me at all?" Alexis acknowledged that he had a point. It fully made sense that Jake would read up on the kink. She wondered if there were things he knew now that she didn't. "If my information is correct, and I know it is, you have already started setting little goals for me once we're there. Especially since I know you're a numbers girl." Alexis blushed.

"What? You're just going to embarrass me now that you have the upper hand again."

"Alexis. Don't pretend you don't bask in my embarrassment." She pretended to be shocked. "Example, you love when anyone mentions my weight. You present more food than anyone should to a coworker, and let me eat it all and feel guilty, while you munch on a healthy meal. You love it. I know it," he said with utmost confidence and conviction. He looked over at her and smiled at her confirming look. "Well out with it. What's your goal for me?" Alexis would pretend she hadn't, but was sure that Jake was fully aware it would be a lie.

"Now I'm embarrassed," she said bashfully.

"Come on. You can tell me. I won't laugh at you. I chose this on purpose. Loosen up Alexis. A few things are gonna have to." Jake winked at her, making her blush harder. Alexis absolutely had already set a goal for him, months ago. The buffet fantasy was so standard, she had run through it pretty soon into spying Jake. She had a feeling he'd easily surpass it.

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't finish 4 plates."

"Wow. Disappointed, she says. Well I doubt I'll disappoint you. I've been a bit out of control lately. I almost wonder if this is a bad idea."

"It's a perfect idea Jake. I'm just worried about one thing."

"Gina?"

" ;Huh?" That thought was so far from being on her mind. "I don't know if I can handle it."

"No?"

"I&ap os;m already so hot just thinking about it. You have been so gluttonous. If this week has been any indication," she began.

"No need for 'if's. Alexis. Think of this as a special treat just for you. I think you will be perfectly fine." Alexis was hoping Jake read enough, because she was already mentally jumping to what she wanted after their lunch.

They pulled up to the restaurant, one of which Alexis had never heard of. From the outside it looked like a high class nightclub. Inside was exactly the same except filled with huge bars of food. The hostess sat them down in a booth in the corner. Her eyes met Jake's and he looked excited, which for Jake was a very subtle difference from happy or content. "Once we get the drink order we're good to go. Hope it's soon because I am hungry." Jake seemed to be acting authentically, not putting on a show or dramatizing the situation. He was a natural. Alexis felt like she couldn't dream to be so chill. She wanted to watch him pack it down so badly. His limits had yet to be discovered by her, and she was beyond curious how far he'd go.

The waiter came over and greeted them warmly. "Welcome and thank you for dining with us. Jake, it's lovely to see you back, and with such an enchanting woman this time," the server said. Jake blushed and Alexis thanked the man, gave her drink order, all while tracking every move of Jake's face. They knew him by name. Jake ordered a Coke and asked that they keep it filled if they could. When he left, Jake looked at Alexis, anticipating her commentary.

"Go on," he said.

"You are a regular? Here?" Jake blushed a little.

"I've been. Shoot me."

"Alone?" She asked a bit nervously. Jake gave a small sigh paired with a laugh.

"I typically prefer to indulge privately. But you aren't the judgemental type. Or maybe the most judgemental, but in my favor." She imagined him pigging out alone at the restaurant. Monthly? Weekly? She'd love to know, but was more ready to start. "Let's go." He got up and headed to the bars.

Alexis did a couple passes around to see the variety, of which there was many. There seemed to be dishes from all corners of the world, and the quality appeared to be very good just looking at it. She would never talk shit about a cheap buffet, as they were very accessible and the only kind she'd known. It was a high rollers spot, she didn't doubt it.

She made her way back with a decently filled plate, in an attempt to prove Jake wrong in what he'd said about her own eating habits. She saw him coming back to the table and actively told herself to not stare as he approached. He slid into the booth with a smirk. His plate was piled high with Chinese food items, which made her remember their lunch earlier in the week.

"How did I do?"

"Exceptionally," Alexis said, entranced.

"Always start with Chinese, in honor of Chinese buffets." They began eating and chatting.

"So does Gina talk about me often?" Jake asked, shoving a monstrous bite in his mouth. Alexis rolled her eyes, after briefly watching his plump lips undulating as he chewed.

"For someone who isn't into you, she certainly does."

"She used to flirt a lot with me." He nodded his head with wide eyes.

"How much?"

"Daily," he scoffed. "Suggested I take her out several times." He left a moment of pause. "I never did. Of course. She must have taken the hint or maybe lost interest. Have you heard I've been packing it on?" Alexis blushed.

"I heard that actually," she said looking at his half eaten plate. He was methodical with his eating.

"She's been tracking everything to do with you. I would bring you lunch, and she'd have something to say."

"She is in a convenient vantage point to observe the comings and goings of people."

"She did say you were cute. But, definitely thinks you're fat."

"She's right," he said with a smirk.

"No use in denying the facts. It's probably because I'm eating way too much. Not that you have been any help."

"I just did what I was told."

"And then some. Even before this week, which has been amazing by the way, you would suggest snack runs."

"Well jeez Jake. The requests were like clockwork," she retorted incredulously. "I learned your patterns in the first 3 days. And did a superb job executing that knowledge."

"You have been excellent." He said, scraping the last of his food onto his fork. "As was this. No?" He reached for his glass and gulped from it.

"Yea, everything is great," she agreed. Jake put down his glass and put his fist to his lips, muffling a long burp. He raised his eyebrows at her, and proceeded to get another plate. Alexis shivered with excitement. He was exactly as sexy as she had hoped he'd be.

Ch 7

[volleychumps]

« Insecure S/O Reacting to a Confession 2

part 1 here 

format: scenarios

genre: fluff

- includes: Iwaizumi, Tendou, and Matsukawa

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

Iwaizumi Hajime

The sun wasn’t helping his flared cheeks in any way. 

“Stop interfering.” 

“Stop stalling then.” Oikawa grins, rubbing his best friend’s shoulders as if he were about to enter a boxing ring. The dark haired ace rubs his eyes in irritation with one hand, ignoring the flare against his cheeks as Iwaizumi attempts to shake his childhood friend off. The sight of you kneeled down in the school garden, hair pinned back away from your face as you tended to the flowers, made the heat surge through Iwa’s cheeks even more. 

“I’m not.” 

“Really? Because every day you approach her creepily from some distance, and then disappear. C’mooon, I already owe Hiro like fifteen bucks-” 

“You’re betting on this, shithead?”

“Nope.” The answer comes out a little too quickly as Oikawa dodges a second swat. “She’s so pretty I might have to approach her myself-” 

“Not another word.” Iwa grits out, Oikawa slightly smirking at the tick in his jaw and the way his onyx eyes harden. “I just...don’t wanna mess this up.” 

“There’s nothing to mess up until you confess. Ah, young love.” Oikawa sighs dreamily, Iwaizumi ignoring his dramatic friend’s swoon before making a decision. Today was the day. 

You wipe sweat from your forehead, attempting to ignore the beating sun down on your face as you tried to hurry the process a long, ensuring the flowers were getting just enough water. The touch of an icy can of tea against your cheek startles you, almost making you drop the watering pot before you hold a hand up against the bright sun rays, tilting your head in confusion at the broad-shouldered man in front of you. 

“Iwaizumi?” You smile in greeting as Iwaizumi shuffles his feet, breath catching in his throat at the sight. He was so screwed. 

You laugh a bit awkwardly, the cold touch of the can beginning to numb. “Um, is this for me?” 

“Yes.” He curses himself at how stern it comes out, but you gently take the can from his grasp, nodding in thanks. “I-I know you like this one.” 

“You do?” 

“No.” He didn’t want to sound creepy, yet somehow made it worse. 

“Oh.” 

Iwaizumi was ready to kick himself. He was hoping you would understand, the day you shyly maneuvered your way through Oikawa’s fanclub to get to him to offer him an ice cold drink was the reason he became so infatuated in the first place. 

“Well, thanks for the tea-” 

“I like you.” 

This time, you do drop the watering pot, eyes widening like a deer caught in the headlights as Iwa’s heart sinks at your reaction. 

“I get it, alright?” You mumble, sadness swimming in your stomach as Iwaizumi fought the need to dart off. “You’re the handsome volleyball ace all the girls want, and they put you up to ask me out as a joke again. It’s getting old.” 

Ah. 

Iwaizumi sighs, knowing that the other girls preyed on you for your beauty and soft heart, finding ways to hurt you in the most immature ways possible. 

“Oi.” His heart tightens at the look of sorrow on your face, making him click his tongue before reaching a hand out before he can stop himself, smudging his thumb along the streak of dirt on your cheek. You look up at him in a doe-like manner, and your wet eyes are enough to make the ace want to hurt anyone who ever made you feel this way. 

“I’m not kidding.” 

“Iwa-” 

“Hajime.” He cuts you off, hiding a smirk when he feels the heat rush to your cheeks. “You can call me Hajime. Only you.” 

“Hajime.” you try it out, clapping your hand over your mouth once in shyness as Iwaizumi smiles a genuine grin, elated when you shy away into his touch. 

“Then...please take care of me.” You manage, condensation running down to your other hand holding the can as Iwaizumi slips it out of your grasp, taking a heavy sip of it before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“I finished this one. Can I take you to a cafe?” 

“I’d love that.” You slip your gardening gloves off, Iwa slipping his hand into yours casually as you trail behind him, smiling when his grip tightens ever so slightly.

Surprisingly, the sun suddenly didn’t feel too hot today. 

Tendou Satori

“Today’s the day fellas!” 

“Oh, is it?” Shirabu mocks his surprise. “It’s not like you put ‘ask y/n’ out in huge block letters on our team calendar or anything.” 

“Bingo!” Tendou points finger guns at his teammate as Semi shrugs at a disgruntled Shirabu. “I’m about to get myself a Miss Tendou Satori-” 

“That’s not how that works-” 

“Hush, Ushijima. Your logic won’t ruin my day today.” Tendou bounces on the balls of his feet, waiting for practice to let out as he tugs his last shoe on, his other teammates still in the process of changing. 

“Is she waiting for you?” Semi tugs his shirt overhead as Tendou hums happily in answer, Shirabu snarkily making a remark from the other side of the locker room. 

“She’s out of your league.” 

“I know she is! Which is why I’m going to treat her like the queen she is, since I myself am but a lowly peasant beneath her-” Tendou perks up at the time. “Gotta go, I’ll text you the outcome boys.” 

“Please don’t.”

“Tendou-senpai-” But the redhead had already darted through the door as Ushijima glances at his worried kouhai, tilting his head in question. 

“What, Goshiki?” 

“Isn’t Y/N L/N the one who had that mean prank pulled on her last year?”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you rocked on the balls of your feet, fidgeting with the ends of your skirt as you wait for the rambunctious redhead on the volleyball team. No way a cute guy like him was actually- 

“Did I make ya wait long?” A pair of sneakers appear in your view, making you lift your head as Tendou Satori casts you a wide grin, school shoes hanging in his other hand. You tilt your head, wondering if he rushed here.

“Did you need something from me, senpai?” You blink, swinging your legs lightly on the bench you were sitting on, fearing the worst. Tendou clears his throat, suddenly feeling the nervousness he had been outrunning catch up to him. He can’t mess this up. Ever since you had adorably asked him to reach something for you at the snack shop for the school, he hasn’t been able to get you off his mind. He made sure to wait around during the same time during lunch hour, your usual snack already in hand and plucked off the highest shelf. 

“Go out with me.” 

You flinch. There it was. 

His smile fades slowly with every beat of silence that soaks in the atmosphere between the two of you, and you swallow back a sob. 

“How much are they giving you to do this?” 

Tendou’s shoes hit the floor, his eyes blinking rapidly in confusion as you refuse to meet his questioning gaze. 

“What?” 

“I um, can help you if you want. Go out with you for a few days so they really believe-” 

“Hey, hey!” Tendou’s arms begin to flail around as he shakes his head no. “I mean it Y/N, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. I really wanna date you for real-” 

“You do?” 

Tendou’s chest felt heavier at the crack in your voice and insecurity swirling in your eyes, and he nods his head, kneeling in front of you carefully before asking to take your hands with his eyes. 

“I 100% do. You can strip me of my honor if I’m lying.” 

This makes you crack a smile, making Tendou breathe out a sigh of relief through his nose. He thumps his forehead against yours, making your eyes glint in a way they haven’t in awhile.

“Can this lowly senpai please take you out on a date this weekend?” 

“No, my lowly senpai cannot.” You say, turning your palms over so he can hold them properly. Tendou quirks an eyebrow, but he’s slightly smirking as you offer a shy smile. 

“But my boyfriend can.” 

Matsukawa Issei

“You’re staring again, ya creep.” 

“I think the term you’re looking for is skillful admiring-” 

“Just ask her out.” Hanamaki yawns, getting comfy on his best friend’s desk as Matsukawa leans into his palm, eyeing the way you pout when your friends steal your snacks. So cute. “What’s the worst she’s gonna do, say no?” 

“Yes.” Matsukawa sighs, hanging his head slightly as Hanamaki arches a brow, crossing his arms in pure amusement. 

“Wow, Matsukawa Issei hung up over a girl?” 

“Who the hell is hung up-” 

Hanamaki arches a brow when his friend visibly tenses up, looking over only to smirk when he sees another boy in class shyly offer up his pocky to you, you gladly accepting and smiling widely in thanks. Issei rests his head on the desk, stubbornly looking out the window as Hanamaki withholds a laugh over the hold you have over your classmate. 

“Oh just ask her out.” Hanamaki uncaps his drink. “You’re so into her dude, it’s making me sick.” 

Issei shifts in his seat. Maybe his adoration for you wouldn’t have begun if it hadn’t been for the way your much shorter legs pumped to catch up to his figure, who had pretty much reached his home.

“Matsukawa-san!” You had gasped for breath, the messy-haired boy guiltily slipping his headphones off at how tired you seemed. Before he could profusely apologize, you shoved his notes in his hand, bright hue to his cheeks at the act of kindness. 

“Um, you left this in the library!” you manage out, Matsukawa seeming to freeze in the moment. “I added some notes in there, I hope you don’t mind. It seemed kinda empty-” 

“You wrote notes for me?” He finds his voice again, cursing himself at that being the first thing that came out. 

“I was bored during free time anyways.” You scratched the back of your head before turning on your heel again. “Anyways, bye!”

And then you darted off again as Matsukawa Issei stayed still in his spot, wondering just why the hell his heart was beating at the pace it was going, colorful notes hanging from his grasp. 

“I’m gonna do it.” Hanamaki almost falls off the desk at Matsukawa’s revelation and the way he suddenly stood up. “I could kiss you right now, Makki.” 

“I’m praying to god, please don’t.” 

You lean against the shoe lockers, humming to yourself as you wonder just what your classmate would need from you, figuring he wanted to properly thank you for the notes. You would accept it and go, knowing that Matsukawa Issei was favored among the girls- 

“You’re here.” 

“This.” You smile softly, holding up a folded note between your fingers as Matsukawa shoves his hand in his slack pockets, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “This made it hard for me not to be, you know?” 

You eye him carefully, stomach sinking at the familiar situation in front of you. 

“You might have already guessed,” Issei breathes, trying to steady the pounding in his ears. “Or Makki might have already told you because he’s a shithead like that-” 

You tilt your head.

“-but I’ve got this killer crush on you. And if you could help me out, I would thoroughly appreciate it.” It comes out business-like, and you almost laugh if it hadn’t been for the weight in your throat. 

“Help you out how?” He doesn’t notice the crack in your voice as he pulls his sleeves up to his forearms, swallowing tightly. 

“I think a date would begin to ease the pain.” 

You really do laugh this time, but it’s not the kind of laugh of amusement. It’s forced, awkward, and makes Issei falter in his smile and movements. 

“Do they ever get bored?” 

All playfulness drains from the middle blocker’s face as his tone hardens. “What are you talking about?” 

“Sure, get the hot guy from the volleyball team to try and ask Y/N out, are you getting it on video?” 

“Y/N-” 

“I’ve gotta go.” you try to step away, eyes widening when he stops you with his much bigger frame. His lidded eyes widen at the tears prodding the corner of your eyes, carefully lifting a hand to swipe at them before looking at you seriously.

“You think I’m hot?” 

You can’t withhold the giggle that escpaes you, sniffling slightly as Matsukawa smiles gently, wrapping his arm around you to touch the small of your back. You yelp a little when you find yourself crushed against his chest, your upper back touching the lockers. 

“I don’t know what the hell happened to you in the past, but-” you look up at the handsome tall boy you had hand-written notes for, hoping your crush on him wasn’t too noticeable. “I can tell you right now that you’re really fuckin’ pretty, and I want to brag to my friends about how hot my girlfriend is-”

“Do you ever stop talking?” You cup his cheek in question as his grin widens. 

“Make me your boyfriend and I’ll show you.” He winks, and you raise both eyebrows in amusement before practically speaking against his lips. 

“I think we can arrange that.” 

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

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[wincore]

field day | jung sungchan

pairing: sungchan x fem!reader

synopsis: when you, as cheer captain, are best friends with the pride and joy of the soccer team, rumors are bound to fly around.

genre: high school au, soccer au, bff2l, fluff

words: 7.5k

warnings: language, jung “the risk i took was calculated but man am i bad at math” sungchan

request: sungchan + ball + “ everyone is looking at us. is that a good or a bad thing? ” (from the first option) ^__^

song recs: after school - weeekly / pleaser - wallows / some - bol4 / sweet talk - saint motel / love so sweet - cherry bullet

a/n: i tried recalling some hs memories for this and im hoping i wasnt the only one that went through the “shipped with a random dude” ordeal LOL. i haven’t written shorter fics in a while so i’m glad i got to. tq for requesting, lovepie <33

In high school, peer pressure tends to come in different forms. For you, it’s taken the shape of this.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” 

You look around your classmates, scanning each and every face chanting with glee like you’re a star player scoring the winning point. The tall figure shifts beside you, glancing at you like a blinking idiot. You’re not even on the losing team but it feels just as frustrating.

You glare at the boy beside you. The trouble is Jung Sungchan. The trouble has always been Jung Sungchan. 

“Come on!” Chenle calls with a teasing grin from the buzzing crowd. The little shit. It’s getting hotter with each minute you spend by the green soccer field and its dusty chalked lines, just at the tip of the bleachers. You didn’t even get enough time to breathe before you were surrounded, the soccer team pushing a stumbling Sungchan onto you. It’s too sunny for this today.

“The star soccer player gets a kiss from the lead cheerleader after a winning game! That’s the rule.” Chenle announces.

Sungchan looks at you and you turn to him, the both of you looking at each other like fish out of water. Even though you’ve clarified at least a hundred times that you’re just friends, your peers don’t seem to be satisfied. (“Famous last words,” they say.)

“No,” you say, firmly. 

“No,” Sungchan agrees, nodding his head wisely.

“Don’t copy me,” you say, smacking his chest, and a quiet ‘oof’ escapes his mouth.

The fact that you’ve been best friends since Sungchan offered you a light green crayon in elementary school just fuels the idea that you have to date. There’s this difference between elementary school kids teasing and high school kids teasing—it was so much easier back when boys were afraid of cooties from girls. It was innocent too. Now, it’s more of nudges and sly grins, teasing with unnecessary innuendo. (What else do you expect from teenagers experiencing puberty?) It doesn’t stop you from being best friends though. Sungchan still visits on Fridays to get on your mom’s nerves and help you with homework (or try to). You still have all the little trinkets he’s gifted you over the years and the lock to his phone is still your birthday. You’re best friends and strictly that. 

When you got into the same middle school though is when it started going downhill. Holding his hand was awkward, touching him in any way was awkward and god forbid you compliment him on something. The kids around you would run across the halls saying “(name) likes Sungchan!” or the other way around sometimes. Heathens, the lot of them. But at the very least, he wasn’t too fazed and you wonder how he could be that even-tempered. If it was just you feeling that way, then maybe you did like him more than he did you. 

You shake it off. 

Sungchan’s much more grown now and at least a foot taller since his awkward adolescent years; he looks handsomer too but you wouldn’t be caught dead saying it out loud. After all, it’s only going to spark another debate on the anonymous school forum. (“(name) finds Jung Sungchan attractive, they’re totally dating.” “I knew it. A boy and a girl can’t be friends, especially if they’re both good looking.”) If you’re being honest, you hate the rumours so much—it’s one of the reasons, apart from puberty, stopping you from being as close as before. However, you do understand that this is how the passage of time works. You’re not going to be spending all of your time with each other, yes, but you still regard him as important. Your life is too busy now, with exams and practice—and you’d think a busy bee would get some honey as reward.

Sungchan’s curls stick to his forehead, unruly after he wiped at them with a towel. The sunlight plays with his eyes when he looks at you intently and you shrug. The smell of sweat is starting to make you nauseous. You remember that you too need to take a shower.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you mumble.

“Not today?” He asks.

You shake your head. “The girls have a plan.”

It’s not just the sweat. Or the crowds. You don’t like being here at all. There’s one more problem with this place.

You hate soccer. 

And by hate, you mean you despise it. Like you’ll throw up at the sight of it. What’s so riveting about a bunch of smelly, sweaty guys excited about chasing a patterned ball? You’ve tried to understand it but every time your dad explains the rules, you find yourself zoning out of whatever alien language he speaks. 

Sungchan has been the closest to getting you to understand the game and even then, you refused to learn. It’s not like you’re society’s definition of girly—but you’re not a tomboy either. The school has granted you the “ice queen with a warm interior” stereotype so you’ll just go with that. To be honest, you’re just a little more awkward at open affection than your friends. (And Sungchan has the “friendly beagle” stereotype which you’ll agree is partly true. He’s more of a retriever though, with that size.) It’s just funny how you can never seem to know who you are but other people see so clearly.

You hurry up to the locker rooms and hope for a better evening than this afternoon.

-

The sky burns blue and you wipe the sweat off your brow once you step out of the changing room. Cooling off from your shower has gone to waste. Adjusting your school skirt, you take your usual strides to the school gates. 

Ryujin seems to be showing Yuna a very flamboyant dance move while the latter hypes her up. Ryujin is in her gym uniform because she has no care for her reputation apparently, but she makes it work. Yuna’s about to show her own move when she notices you and waves at you vigorously enough to make you jog towards her and stop embarrassing herself in front of the after school crowd. But then again, she’s too cute for that.

“We got bored waiting for you,” Yuna explains, voice hoarse from her cold. Poor thing wasn’t let into performing because of it. “Do you wanna see our cool new move? Ryujin came up with it!”

Ryujin rolls her eyes. “You’re trying to advertise me to (name) so she can recruit me into cheerleading, aren’t you?”

You smile and cross your arms, facing Yuna who’s been caught mid-act. She smiles sheepishly and pats your shoulder like she just said a funny joke.

“Actually…” You begin and Ryujin holds up her arms in a cross.

“No. Never. I’m already part of the hip-hop dance club.”

“I was going to say that I’ll join you instead.”

Yuna gasps in betrayal, big eyes widening, and Ryujin grins before sticking her tongue out and potentially ruining her image with that expression. She doesn’t care, however.

“Anyway, I can’t wait to get to college and join a dance club.” Ryujin looks at the two of you excitedly. “I keep getting snaps from Yeji and feel so jealous.”

Yuna pouts. “Don’t be so happy about leaving me.”

“Aw, is the baby afraid of not getting any more sisterly doting?” Ryujin teases and you laugh at the disgruntled expression on Yuna’s face. 

“Don’t worry,” Ryujin continues with a sly grin. “Taehyun’s here to keep you company for another year.”

Yuna turns red in the face, a high pitched complaint emitting from her throat. “I told you to keep quiet about that!”

“Oh, what’s this?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “We’re starting boy talk early today.”

Yuna huffs. “At least, mine’s just a crush. I don’t know what relationship status: complicated you have going on with Mr. Soccer Captain.”

You flush hotly. “There’s no relationship status to be complicated about! Seriously, why does everyone think we’re a thing?”

“You’re cheer captain and he’s soccer captain,” Ryujin answers logically. “Plus, you’re best friends.”

“You have a lot of sexual tension,” Yuna answers honestly.

You make a face, slipping your arms into theirs and pulling them along the sidewalk. You better get something to drink before the sky starts to turn purple from pink tinged blue. 

“Ooh, another desperate attempt from (name) to not get teased,” Ryujin leans back to whisper to Yuna.

You stop walking. “Wait. Where are we going?”

Yuna shakes her head. “I’ll lead the way.”

Skipping over the concrete sidewalk, you laugh at your friends and their stories (read: Ryujin gushing over Yeji’s college dance club and Yuna’s newfound crush on Taehyun). The blue sky has tinged orange by now but it’s the sort of colour that sits in between more significant timeframes, like night and evening. Passing by a city square, you eye the people with wonder. A girl in a pink skirt skateboards smoothly over the concrete, her boyfriend filming her with a loving smile. 

“We’re here!” Yuna announces.

You look around the large open plaza, with people of all ages and in different attires trying out skateboarding and rollerblading over the grey concrete. It’s been getting popular lately, with idol pop stars taking to it too but you never knew there was this big a community. There seems to be a few stalls renting out skateboards too. The wind caresses your hair, evening cool settling in nicely on your skin. The sky is purple but it’s lit up with the city buildings and street lamps flickering on. It’s not a bad day at all.

Someone catches your attention. A boy that sticks out like a sore thumb everywhere he goes. 

“Sungchan?!” 

Your eyes somehow always settle on his figure, tall and standing out in the crowd of teenagers. He clutches his blue bag, the one he’s had since third grade, close to his chest and looks more like a tourist in this place than a frequent visitor. He’s not the only one in school uniform now that you’re here.

“(name)!” 

You hate how you love the way his face lights up when he sees you. You’re not actually into him. It’s your friends brainwashing you.

“I was going to invite you,” Sungchan says, a sorry smile on his face. 

Ryujin and Yuna frown at each other but you can’t exactly ask the reason for it.

“Isn’t it great we had the same plans?” he beams at the three of you.

Yuna suppresses a smile and you wonder why. It’s not like your friends would know he’d be here—you’d know first as best friend.

"How did you guys come across this place?" He asks, eyes round with curiosity. 

"Somi's Tiktok," Yuna answers, smiling. "We thought she works here but if she really was, guys would be swarming this place."

Ryujin raises her eyebrows. "Speaking of which, I can clearly see why there are so many girls here."

Sungchan beams, turning to you for affirmation and when you don't give him any, he drops his grin to a more polite smile.

“I don’t work at the stalls though,” he answers. “I’ve just been here a few times.”

“You’re trying to learn, aren’t you?” Ryujin asks, raising an eyebrow.

He nods. However, you furrow your eyebrows at her. How does she know? Eyes widening, you realize it must be the school forum. You remember reading a post about a student wanting to learn skateboarding and the wording felt familiar but you didn’t think much. How they figured it out, you will never know.

“Oh! Oh, I think my nose is bleeding. Oh god.” Yuna sniffs vehemently, her finger at her nose. “I think I’m going to need Ryujin to get me to a clinic.” 

Linking her arm through Ryujin’s, Yuna makes an apologetic expression and runs off into a particularly crowded area.

You blink. The realization dawns. 

"They just left me," you tell him, exasperated. "How could they just leave me?"

He shrugs. "My team left me at a rival school's field once."

Great. Your last outing before midterms and your friends have abandoned you. If this is the case, you wonder why they complain about you spending so much time with Sungchan and allegedly ignoring them.

You regain a sense of your surroundings and turn to him. "Wait. They really left you?"

He nods diligently, eyes trained upwards as he tries to recall the memory. "I told you, didn’t I? On the plus side though, I made friends with the opposite team."

"That's so… cute."

Your cheeks heat up at saying it out loud. If Sungchan is affected by it in any way, he doesn't show it. Instead, he has his usual smile on. 

“Do you wanna try?” he asks. “Skateboarding. Or rollerblading but I personally don’t recommend that.”

He curls his lips, shaking his head slightly. You laugh. Of course this beanpole has trouble balancing on skates.

"I- I figured you'd be good at skateboarding. Since, you know, you're so balanced and all."

You raise an eyebrow. "You wanna add skateboarding to your resume or something?"

"Yeah, that and the ability to imitate dog sounds. Wanna see?"

"No, thanks. I’ll pray this weekend to cure your furry behaviour."

Before he can respond, you’re interrupted by a whirlwind of colours and excited calls. A few girls run up to the two of you, younger and probably in middle school, flocking to Sungchan like bees to honey. Never in your life have you felt so ignored as in this singular moment.

You blink, turning to Sungchan who looks like a rather helpless, flustered eye of the hurricane. The winds don't seem to be stopping any time soon.

You clear your throat trying to get their attention. 

"Wow, you brought your girlfriend?" One of the girls exclaims, sounding disappointed.

The other girls make similar whines of disappointment and you have half the heart to whack them over the head and tell them to focus on their academics instead of boys. 

"You're so lucky to have him as your boyfriend," a girl comments, round eyes brimming with jealousy. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you declare sharply.

Sungchan looks at you with his doe eyes, blinking cartoonishly. You nudge him with your elbow.

“Yeah!” He agrees, with far too much gusto to be believable. “I’m not (name)’s boyfriend. I have no idea why everyone keeps saying that.”

“Let’s go, babe,” you say, resisting the urge to stick your tongue out at the girls. They’re younger than you and you have high school dignity, you remind yourself.

Slipping your hand into his, you take a few long strides away from them before you realize what you said.

“I- I did- I didn’t mean to call you babe,” you sputter, pulling your hand from his to look at him with wide eyes. 

“It’s okay though?”

Sungchan raises an eyebrow and slips his hand back into yours, smiling. 

“I don’t mind the rumours, you know?” He says honestly but his smile feels all too teasing. “Maybe we should go out for real.”

You huff, separating yourself from him again. “Maybe you just love attention. Disgusting.”

You point an accusatory finger at him and he bites at it playfully.

“While you're here, wanna see a cool trick I learned?" He straightens only having to tilt his head to look at you.

"If it's you falling on your face, then yes."

"I mean, hey, I could totally do that. Done that several times actually."

You smile despite trying your hardest not to. You like this about him—that he’s easygoing enough to make you look at life less seriously. If it’s with him, you could quit everything that makes you unhappy and start everything you love. 

“So where is your skateboard?” you ask, walking side by side with him, who has finally learned to match your pace.

“It’s with one of my friends,” he answers, and points to a tall girl with long brown hair, wearing a pair of tomboyish shorts and T-shirt. Another girl with short hair and a bucket hat accompanies her, wearing a long hoodie and shorts, but she leaves before you reach them. They must be from a different school because you’ve never seen them before. The first thing that pops into your head is that they’d be good replacements for your cheerleading position if you were ever to leave. You shake your head. Now is not the time.

“That’s Jimin!” he introduces, and you wonder how he’s this way—how he makes friends so easily.

Jimin waves at Sungchan and then proceeds to ask if you’re his girlfriend with a big smile, like a script being followed everywhere you go.

She seems a little disappointed at the answer. “Well, I was going to suggest one of the couples skateboards.”

You flash her an awkward smile. 

“But those are pretty difficult! I’ve been here for a month and my idea of skateboarding is still sitting on it while Soeun pushes me around. That’s my friend, by the way.”

“Ah.” You nod. “This is my first time skateboarding, actually. The only ‘sport’ I’ve ever done is cheerleading.”

Jimin furrows her eyebrows before her eyes widen. “Wait a minute. You’re the cheerleader best friend that Sungchan wouldn’t shut up about!”

Sungchan flusters, in the subtle way he usually does, and waves his hands robotically trying to explain. “I was just saying- that- that you’d be good at skateboarding. Because of the cheerleading.”

A boxy grin accompanies his explanation. 

“Right.” Jimin covers her face and sends an obvious wink your way. “Anyway, you can have my skateboard for the day.”

She hands over a smooth black skateboard with white wheels, but on closer inspection you find that they’re light-up wheels instead. It’s oddly fitting for someone like Jimin even if you’ve known her the entirety of ten minutes. Sungchan is good at finding friends, rather. Soon enough, she runs off after making Sungchan promise he’ll deliver the skateboard home.

The trick Sungchan wanted to show you was a failed kickflip. At the very least, it made you laugh so hard you almost spit out the strawberry milk he’d bought you. Sipping his own banana milk, he sulked for a moment or two, telling you to try it out and see how difficult it is.

On the contrary, Sungchan was right. You are good at balancing on skateboards. But that’s where it ends. You don’t think you’ll be naturally good at kickflips, though being able to glide through the plaza while Sungchan runs after you with the drinks puts a big smile on your face. It’s the most fun you’ve had in a while.  

Accompanied by Sungchan’s panicked “oh no”s and “oh we messed up”s, the two of you try the couple skateboarding move too; no one’s watching you here. It’s fun to see him stress over a skateboard because frankly, you’ve never met anyone as easy-going as Sungchan. (“I’ll figure it out along the way,” he says when you ask if he’s studying for finals, and proceeds to get a decent enough score). Suddenly the wandering gap is closed again. You’re not going to worry about stupid rumours from now on. 

But for some reason, ‘you like him as a friend’ doesn’t sound right either. Despite having said it so many times, you might not believe in it. You shake off the thought. This evening, at least, you’re going to enjoy with Sungchan without thinking of teenage drama and hormones. 

"You still don't think you and Sungchan make the perfect pair?" Yuna pouts. 

You narrow your eyes. "I don't take opinions from traitors."

Chaeryoung leans back on her chair, and whispers to you asking if you’re okay. At least someone is concerned about you.

“It hurts to be left by my own friends but—”

“No, I meant, are you okay? Why aren’t you dating Sungchan already? You’re so cute together! And you’re best friends—Netflix writers literally daydream of this.”

You groan, throwing up your hands in defeat.

“And,” Yuna adds, knocking her chair closer. “Who’s really the traitor here? Us who ditched you with the love of your life—or you, who runs off every time she gets a call from her boyfriend?”

“Sungchan is not my boyfriend.” You cross your arms.

“She even shares her lunch with him more,” Ryujin complains from the side. “And they’re not even in the same class. Unlike me, by the way. Class 1 Shin Ryujin. Same class as you, (name).”

You slump, resting your forehead against the desk. At this point, you wish the teacher would walk in and start the class already. Unfortunately, lunch break isn’t over for another ten minutes and lady luck clearly isn’t smiling upon you. 

“Speak of the devil!” Ryujin announces monotonously, leaning against her desk.

Sungchan and a few of his friends from the soccer team wave at you and the girls from the classroom door. Noticing Taehyun, Yuna quickly fixes her hair and you would tease her if Sungchan hadn’t casually strolled up to your desk and sat down on the chair in front of you. Long legs barely contained in the space, he adjusts himself by resting his arm on the headrest and his chin upon it. It’s all normal. However, when he leans down to match your eye level, you hear the sudden pit-a-pat of your pulse in your ear. At this proximity, you can even see the mole on his lip that he’s pointed out before. The sunlight from the open windows is pulling golden strings over his eyelashes and his lips aren’t dry as a desert like you expected. You know he uses the watermelon flavoured lip balm. 

“Too close,” you croak. Embarrassed at your own voice, you rise sharply and glare at him.

“Is your heart fluttering?” Sungchan asks, smiling as he looks up at you.

You roll your eyes. 

You can hear Yuna’s giggling and before you can shoot her a glare, Sungchan calls. 

"Do you have any bandaids?" 

He points to a rough scratch at the base of his palm, fingers slender and less calloused than what you'd pictured. Then again, soccer players don't use their hands much, do they?

You blink. "You came all the way here for bandaids?"

"Well… I remembered you keep band-aids in your phone case. And the nurse hates me."

You giggle.

Yujin mouths from behind Sungchan, “He just wanted to see her.” 

You would feel flattered if you didn't know these people and their shenanigans. They'd do anything for some drama (and to get two innocent people into the dating trap).

“Why would I waste my cute band aids on you?” you mutter under your breath. “They’re limited edition, you know?”

No way are you sticking Ice Bear on your urban hazard of a best friend. A tall, cute, surprisingly polite hazard but he still annoys you nonetheless.

However, Sungchan's pleading smile has grown on you.

You reluctantly take the band-aid out of your clear phone case, the pink panda doll attached to it swaying with the movement. Proceeding, you take Sungchan's hand and lay it on your desk. With careful focus, you place the band-aid, admiring the size difference of your hands before snapping to reality.

Enough with the pink cloud of thoughts, you scold yourself.

When you look up, the proximity makes your heart skip a beat despite the logical part of you saying you shouldn't. Your faces are too close and this time, you don't even have the energy to croak it out.

"Thanks, (name)," Sungchan smiles at you. 

Right then, the sound of a chair sliding harshly against the floor makes the two of you jolt away from each other. All of your friends and his friends seem to be sporting Cheshire cat grins and you don't like it one bit. You don't like not being in on the gag.

"Anybody up for gaming after this? My treat." Chenle looks around. “Sungchan is banned from the arcade soccer game though.”

"'Ey," Sungchan complains.

"Hey, Jisung and Ryujin are banned from DDR too but that's because they almost broke the handles off last time."

The memory makes you smile. Sungchan was there too, and you don’t know why you’re only just recalling all the memories with him in it, carefully and in detail. Every one of them seems to have been amplified, the little interactions suddenly coming to mind. 

“(name)? You’re coming?”

You take one look at Sungchan and give up. Even if this is another childish ploy by your peers, you don't mind spending some more time at the arcade with infuriatingly addictive games. A tiny part of you is even willing to go along with them and see if it turns out the way they want it to.

“I’ll go,” you mumble, and the rest of the group cheers. 

“But I have cleaning duty today.”

The group groans. 

“Just get someone else to do it. Like a junior.”

“Isn’t that bullying?” You ask, frowning.

“Ask nicely. Anyone would be willing to do your bidding, (name).”

“Chenle, will you do it?” You give him a sickly sweet smile. “You’re class president after all.”

Chenle wrinkles his nose. “You’re getting stupider every day, (name).”

You sigh. “Fine. I’ll ask one of Yuna’s classmates then.”

“By the way,” Chenle announces. “Only twelfth graders are invited—”

A bunch of groans interrupt him. 

“Quit whining.” He crosses his arms, glaring at them. “What do you even have to worry about? We’re preparing for the exam of our lives. Oh, and Jisung is an exception.”

“We’re only two years apart,” Yuna mutters under her breath.

“Oh, and from class 5, only Sungchan is invited.”

Another round of complaints pass and Chenle breaks into laughter. “Just kidding.”

Your friends are and will always be an odd bunch. Sungchan has previously proved to be the weirdest (several times) and it makes him the most lovable too. But then again, you don’t have free space in your timetable to put in teenage crushes, much less falling for your best friend. What you do have time for this afternoon, however, is relaxing at the arcade. 

-

“Let’s go! I am so good at this. Think I’d impress your Steve Curry?” Ryujun gloats, after having scored three hoops in a row at the arcade basketball game.

“It’s Stephen Curry,” Chenle corrects. “And no, let’s focus here. Our goals are—”

He points to the two figures by the DDR machine, looking like a real couple. He’s been acting as damage control for the rumours and making sure you don’t drift apart because of it. They really don’t make guys like him anymore, Chenle sighs. He should get a friendship award or something.

“—those two.”

Really, Sungchan better be thanking him by the end of this. He’s never met anyone quite like Jung Sungchan, especially because Chenle cannot picture himself liking the same person since elementary school.

“Man, now I wish I had a girlfriend,” Chenle mutters.

Ryujin snorts. “Who’s going to date you?”

“You don’t have a boyfriend either,” Chenle reminds and gets a basketball to the shoulder.

“Why are you playing that when you don’t even know how to use it?” Your voice rings through to them.

“I said I’ll figure it out!” Sungchan reasons.

Chenle and Ryujin stare at the two of you blankly, as you bicker over a claw machine game and they share a look.

“Do they need our help?” Ryujin whispers.

Chenle shakes his head. “I think they’ll figure it out from here.”

Soon enough, you were laughing at Sungchan’s failed attempts and trying to outplay him. Your friends have already given you the shove. Chenle and Ryujin share a high five and that’s where the new story begins.

You finally know the thrill of a teenage crush. It makes you so damn infuriated that it had to be Jung Sungchan. 

Now every time he waves at you from the field or hands you a bottle of strawberry milk or explains the calc notes you missed or does the bare minimum, you need to deal with the quickening of your pulse and a few butterflies loose from their cage in your stomach. It doesn’t help that you’re almost always together.

The two of you currently sit by the school field, Sungchan tying his shoelaces while you cool off with the water bottle he offered you. Practice ended a while ago for you and the girls have receded into the air conditioned indoor gym. The indoor gym is apparently occupied by the gymnast club and you couldn’t be more disappointed that you didn’t join them instead. 

If anything, however, you’d rather leave this whole thing and focus on your academics. Hobbies shouldn’t be draining you—they should feel like skateboarding on a lilac evening with the wind in your hair.

With a friend you like very, very much.

“Sungchan,” you call quietly. 

“Hm?” 

When he looks up, you can’t hold in the urge to fix the hair out of his eyes. You’ve never been very physically affectionate so it might have come off strange. Sungchan looks at you quietly, stars in his eyes and you clear your throat.

“How long have you been playing soccer? It was before we met, right?”

He hums, eyes traveling up and then back to you when he remembers. “Since I was six. You were there at my first soccer match actually.”

“I was? Oh my god, was it the one you lost horribly and the whole team started crying?”

“Yes. Yes, it was.”

You giggle. “Six year old you would be so in awe now.”

Sungchan beams at that. 

“Who knows?” he smiles, looking into your eyes with firm determination. “Maybe I’ll be the next Son Heungmin.”

“Even I know who that is so… no.”

Sungchan pouts and you make a face in disgust. “Don’t act cute, it gives me hives.”

“Okay, maybe not Son Heungmin. I could definitely be the next Park Jisung—and I don’t mean him.”

Sungchan points to a boy passed out on the benches, his exhaustion typical of any high schooler while another boy sits beside him, fanning him with a bunch of assignment papers. Jisung and Chenle really are more entertaining than any game on this field. 

You turn to look at Sungchan, who’s moving his head around trying to catch their attention. When he finally does, he waves at them and gets big grins in response. He’s not all that bad, you think. In fact, he’s quite possibly the most amiable boy in senior year.

“Just be Jung Sungchan,” you mutter. “Not Son Heungmin or Park Jisung.”

Sungchan turns to you, smiling wide. “Advice taken.”

You scoff. “Whatever.”

Maybe it’s just you but Sungchan has been glancing at your lips very frequently today and mentally thank Chaeryoung for letting you borrow her lip tint. You didn’t know something so subtle could get you this giddy.

“Are you… going to give the CSAT?” You ask, glancing at him nervously. Part of you is sad you only developed your first high school crush in the very last semester. Or if it’s comforting, you could believe you’ve liked him all this time.

“Nah. Sports scholarship,” he says nonchalantly. “I was going to tell you but… I’ve been scouted already.”

You gasp. “That’s… great. Your future’s all settled.”

Sungchan seems to dislike the idea, lips pursing. “I don’t think anything’s settled except for the next step.”

You nod, somewhat understanding. 

“What about you?” He asks. “Any university in mind? SKY? I’ve seen you study extra hours at the library.”

You look away, not feeling ready for the conversation.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “I don’t know what I like and what I want. I don’t even like cheer anymore.”

Sungchan gazes at you wordlessly but it’s the most comfortable you’ve felt talking about this.

“Maybe I should quit,” you mumble.

You don’t want to commit to something you no longer have passion for. But then again, you’ve spent so much time on it that it’s hard to leave. 

“You should,” he responds, honest. 

You scoff, shaking yourself from that moment of vulnerability. “But why would I quit something I’m good at?”

“If you don’t like it. If it hurts to leave but isn’t any better when you stay, you should leave.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re quite the philosopher.”

“I’m smart, right?”

You smile. 

“Oy, you two!” Chenle calls, making his way to you two with Jisung trailing behind. “I don’t mean to interrupt your flirting but you got a spare water bottle?”

“Are you two going out now?” Jisung asks as a follow-up, and you feel a hot flush for some reason, unlike the previous times you’ve been asked this question.

“No,” you answer. You don’t mind the idea though now.

“Don’t lie,” Chenle complains. “I saw that picture of Sungchan teaching you how to kick a ball. You? And soccer? Something’s up.”

You throw up your hands in exasperation. “Seriously, who keeps up posting to the school page? And where do they get the time?”

"Two people with this much compatibility will always be a hot topic."

"We're not compatible," you retort quickly.

"Wait," Jisung says. "I know how to resolve this."

You raise an eyebrow.

"How do you have your cereal?" He asks, looking from you to Sungchan.

"Cereal first, obviously," you answer.

Sungchan looks up, finger below his chin as he thinks. "I drink the milk first, then eat the cereal and then breakdance to mix it all together."

You pinch your nose. "I swear I question your sanity all the time."

"Hah! That means you're thinking about me all the time."

You look away, rolling your eyes. He responds with an open-mouthed smile and finger guns.

"See?" Jisung grins. "Compatible."

The gruff voice of Coach Lee startles the four of you and Sungchan leaves with a sigh and a promise of meeting after practice. Jisung leaves with Sungchan and Chenle gives you one last teasing smirk before sitting down and going through the assignment papers he was using as a fan previously. You will never understand his miraculous ways of performing his presidential duties.

You don’t have a good feeling about the next match. The only reason you’re even sticking around anymore—as embarrassing as it—is to spend more time with Sungchan. Being with him puts you at ease, even if the school tries to wrap the two of you in a rope of uneasiness. This is your very last practice, for the next match is the final one of this year and then you’ll be back to spending even longer hours at the library with a stack of textbooks. It’s supposed to be a carefree age. At least, adults say that. Your high school life seems to be riddled with worries, and with that thought, you head into the air conditioned room to take a breather off your anxieties. 

Only one more match, you remind yourself. 

The pre-match buzz is driving you to the edge.

Your form is off, you can feel it already and Coach Kim isn’t as sunshine-as-rainbows as she usually is, courtesy to it being the last match of your life. She’ll never know though, how much you don’t want to do this. 

Sungchan waves at you as he usually does before a match, disappointing a third of his fangirls, but it helps you ease. One last time, (name).

Watching the crowd of people, parents and siblings and friends, all excited and talking makes you take a deep breath. You practiced but it wasn’t good enough. You can never do well at something you don’t like anymore. This time, you feel guilty for committing to things half-heartedly. You want to start that fresh new college chapter already, with all of this behind.

There’s ten minutes left. You go back to the empty hall outside the lockers only to pace. This isn’t helping.

“(name)!”

You turn around abruptly to find Sungchan’s tall figure, and you must be looking miserable because his smile falls.

He doesn’t even ask what’s wrong, only takes careful steps towards you. “Do you need water? Medicine?”

His hands hover over your shoulder but he doesn’t burden you with them. You put your face in your palms and sigh, sinking down to the floor in a crouch.

“I want to quit,” you whisper. Your voice comes off more brittle than you’d like, and you realize that Sungchan hasn’t seen you cry since seventh grade when you failed a math test. You didn’t tell him then but you appreciated him studying extra hours for math just to teach you.

“You don’t have to go out there if you don’t want to,” he says quietly, dropping to the floor beside you. “I’ll stay with you.”

You stare at him dumbfounded. “Don’t be ridiculous! They’ll lose without you—you’re the ace, Sungchan!”

“There will always be an ace,” he retorts. “Maybe Jisung will finally get to shine. Or anyone else. I don’t mind spending an hour with you alone.”

You feel a hot flush spread over your cheeks. Looking away to the side, you mumble an ‘alright’ and only glance from the corner of your eye to see him smiling. Jung Sungchan is the most unreasonable boy you’ve ever met. Perhaps it makes him somewhat loveable too.

“It’s your last match,” you whisper helplessly.

“I’ll join the college soccer club and get to play more matches.”

You sigh, giving in. If he’s so adamant, you think that perhaps there is something in you worth sacrificing his game over. It makes an oddly warm feeling bloom in your chest. Sungchan is so damn convincing with his words. You wonder if it’s really okay.

With shoulders touching, an awkward silence takes over in the next second. You turn to him and open your mouth, watch him do the same and close it at the same time he does.

“You know,” he begins, “I was kind of lying about not worrying because I get the feeling coach will evaporate me tomorrow but—I can handle it. Mostly.”

You stare at him with wide, worried eyes. “You don’t have to do this, Sungchan. I’m the one running away.”

You slouch, pulling your knees closer to your chest and burying your face in them. The urge to scream is boiling within you but you can’t get caught. Not now.

“Sometimes to run is the brave thing,” he responds, insightful. “If you’re not up for it, it’s better to quit early than to regret it in the long run.”

You don’t know if it’s the fact that he just quoted Taylor Swift or spoke like your old school counselor—but you find yourself laughing. He makes sense. Sungchan, in his weird, oddball ways, always makes sense. And in that same way, he feels like home.

“You’re so good to me,” you say, looking up at him and at a proximity you’ve never been before.

It’s his turn to fluster, though he doesn’t do so as visibly as you do. He clears his throat, shifting his eyes around before meeting yours. “I- This is bad timing but… I like you. I really do. Since third grade when you drew that birthday card for me. I have it in my bedside drawer, by the way.”

He looks away and makes a face, probably wondering why he said that out loud.

You press your lips tight to prevent the smile that tugs at them. He looks at you with a wobbly smile, trying his hardest to resume his usual dignity—but he’s just a boy, after all. 

“My type is dumb and pretty, though?” You tease, the smile escaping. “You said it yourself.”

He blinks. “Well, I am pretty but if you want me to be stu—”

You shake your head. “I like you too. You don’t have to act cute.”

He pauses, thinking. “I have never acted cute in my life ever. I was born cu—”

You hold his face between your thumb and forefinger. “You do that again and you die.”

He breaks into a smile. 

“I’ve never met someone quite like you,” you whisper, embarrassed of your own feelings bubbling up from the bottle you had kept them in.

He laughs, open-mouthed and pretty. 

“Actually, hey, I didn’t like you all this time from fifth. I liked you and then I didn’t like you and then I liked you again—”

“Okay, I get it.”

His shoulders relax and he smiles at you. You look up at the clock on the wall by the entrance to the field and bite your lip. You don’t love performing anymore but you know all the girls do, even the stand-bys. Jisung might not have to take over Sungchan’s position but you bet one of those tenth graders would love to take yours, the same way you did back then. They’ve practiced harder than you too and it’s only a matter of deserving.

You take a deep breath and get up, pulling up Sungchan by the hand. He raises an eyebrow, inquisitive eyes scanning over your face and you smile at him, strengthening your resolve. You should have done this way sooner.

-

Sungchan plays. You don’t let him sit it out with you. 

Halfway through, you cheer the hardest you ever have, plastic decorative gemstones stuck by your eyes borrowed from the other girls cheering. It’s much more fun, you think. You’ve never experienced soccer like this. You’d love to sit at stadiums and join in victory chants. There’s enough weight off your chest to yell your lungs out.

Sungchan scores a goal almost immediately after and sends a thumbs up over to you. You laugh. This is the best break you’ve ever taken from cheerleading. 

“Ooh, is this perhaps the (name) effect?” Chenle’s voice rings through the speakers and you feel yourself shrink slightly under the eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see your homeroom teacher signal very angrily to the commentator box. You shake yourself off it. So what if everyone’s looking?

Sungchan places his hands on his hips, chest heaving and sends another signal to you before beelining for a straight goal. You whoop and the girl with a notebook beside you is visibly annoyed at this point but you don’t care. 

Without doubt, your school wins and you watch as Sungchan runs to his team, a big smile on his face. The second he’s done getting pet by the team, however, he rushes to the bleachers, skipping over the steps to you, panting when he stops. The risk he took was definitely not calculated. He holds up one finger while he heaves.

“My cheering worked best this time, it seems,” you say to him, laughing.

His face is flushed from the exertion but he laughs heartily. “You could be yelling profanity at me and it’d still encourage me.”

You shake your head at the cheesy line. He takes a step forward, well inside your space but you don’t mind. He leans in.

“Everyone is looking at us,” he says under his breath. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

You look behind him to find the whole team, along with your girls sharing furtive glances and giggling at the sight of the two of you. A few of the junior girls slap each other’s arms, bouncing on the balls of their feet in excitement. You’re not a celebrity. But everyone wants to cheer things on once in a while, don’t they?

“Good,” you answer, before pulling him by the shirt into a chaste kiss. When you pull apart, Sungchan’s face is so struck with awe that you want to look away but instead you bite back an obvious smile. It’s about damn time, someone from the soccer team yells.

“Woah. I think I scored a goal either way,” he says, an offbeat smile on his face.

“Oh come on, we didn’t even get to chant ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ yet—oh shit, the mic’s on.”

Chenle is definitely getting an earful from your teacher after this. The two of you wave at him at the box and end up laughing at him trying to hide behind the desk. 

As expected, the whole crowd surrounds the two of you in less than a minute’s worth of time, with several congratulations and “good score” offered to the two of you. The boys mess up Sungchan’s hair while the girls compliment you on how cute a couple you are. There’s also the question of when you started dating that pauses the buzz and makes everyone look to the two of you for an answer. Sungchan turns to you and you turn to him, and there’s no way you’ll tell half the school that your confession came in a private hallway outside the field—teenage imaginations run wild. 

Instead, you slip your hand into Sungchan’s and run down the bleachers and towards the exit, laughter spilling from your lips. There’s only one place you can think of going to spend a cool blue late afternoon with.

“Skate plaza?” He asks.

“Skate plaza,” you answer.

#cznnet #neowritingsnet #nct x reader #sungchan x reader #nct fluff #sungchan fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #sungchan imagines #sungchan scenarios #nct x you #sungchan x you #nct sungchan #jung sungchan #nct oneshot #sungchan oneshot #nct fanfic #sungchan fanfic #moonwrites

[cook-boss-88]

Stopping by For Coffee

A Mr. Wolf X Diane Foxington fan fiction.

Chapter 1 of 2

In and out, right?

You're just visiting a friend. Seeing how they're doing, catching up, just there for a quick cup o' joe, chat for a bit and you're on your way, right?

What a load of bullshit.

What started as a casual visit to a friend had immediately turned into something more... intimate.

Wolf didn't know what it was that escalated his visit like this, he tried desperately to comb his mind for an answer, though with Diane's tongue lovingly teasing the inside of his mouth just made it a tad harder.

In the midst of his mind going haywire, he managed to remember a few snippets from before this moment; He remembered saying goodbye to his friends, he remembered the 20 minute drive to Diane's house...

He also remembered Diane opening the door... Wearing nothing but a bath robe....

After that everything went blurry.

He managed to find his bearings for a bit and broke away from the scantily dressed vixen.

"D-Diane, w-wait!"

She looked at him quizzically, "Why what's wrong?"

"What are we doing here?" He asked, like the answer weighed upon the fait of the world.

The vixen giggled at the male's disgruntled behavior, she found rather adorable. With him red as a beet and his tail wagging up a frenzy.

"I would assume we were making out, but I guess it's not to your liking?" She quipped.

He held up his paws, "Don't get me wrong, I'm having the time of my life, but why? Here? Now? With you?"

"With me?" She gestured to herself.

"Yeah you! In your kitchen, with your pots and pans and you in that devastatingly sexy bathrobe."

"Oh this old thing? Had this on the first day I moved here!" She giggled, as she ran her fingers down the fabric.

"Looks very comfy." Wolf commented.

She raised an eyebrow at him "Are you really trying to distract me?"

"I'm just..." He sighed as he ran a paw thri his head, "Trying to understand why? Not that I'm complaining, but just... Why?"

"Well," she started, "It's been awhile since I've seen you, Wolf. That entire year when you were in jail made me miss you."

He felt dumbfounded and admittedly, a little flattered.

"You... Missed me?"

"Yes," she refrained from looking at him, having suddenly taken an interest at her kitchen sink, "Being the Governor might sound glamorous, but at the end of the day I come home to an empty house."

She finally mustered the courage to look up at him, "With you and your friends I finally found some people who I feel like I can really talk to." She gave him a smile, "You in particular, I admittedly have grown a bit of a liking towards you."

"Oh..." What else could he have said? Here is quite possibly the most stunning woman he's ever met, telling him that she liked him.

"Well," he began, "I happen to have grown a bit of liking towards you too..."

There was a quiet pause and then ...

"Oh who the fuck am I kidding? You are without a doubt the most beautiful woman I've ever met, Diane."

"I'm sure you say to most women you meet," she quipped.

"Most women aren't capable of kicking my ass, but I'm sure you can."

She tilted her head at him, confused by the strange comment.

He then realized his mistake, "You know, that sounded a lot more romantic in my head."

She laughed, god it was music to his ears.

"So uhhh..." He awkwardly ran a paw through the back of his head, "About that coffee you invited me over for?"

The vixen sighed through a smile. Why was he so cute?

"I just got done shoving my tongue your throat and you still think we're having coffee?"

"Are we not having coffee?"

"Oh we are."

"Oh that's good, coz I- urk!"

He didn't notice in time, but her paw firmly graspped his tie. She pulled him down to meet her at eye level, being only a few inches taller than her, he didn't have to lean down to far.

She looked him dead in the eyes...

Her gaze was animalisticaly predatory in nature... Like a cat that's staring down her prey.

She drew him closer still pulling at his tie like a leash. And like the good boy he is, he followed her command.

She was then inches away from his ear, her breath tickled the hairs near his face, sending a shiver down his spine.

"We'll have the coffee..." she whispered, "Right after I fuck your brains out."

#the bad guys #mr. wolf #diane foxington #Wolf X Diane

[voiceless-terror]

I am so completely enamored with Danny as jons ex and I would be forever in your debt if you finished that

i wasn't expecting people to like this idea so much, its definitely one of my weirder ones xD since im not sure when i'll get around to actually finishing it (if ever) you can have a very rough chunk of it instead. you'll have to forgive any mistakes, im not up to editing it.

In a surprising show of athleticism, Jon ducks under Sasha’s chair before the specter of his past manages to see him.

Sasha swears at the action, backing up in her chair and peering down at Jon in bafflement. “What on Earth are you doing, Jon?”

Instead of answering her question, he backs up even further, tucking his feet out of sight. He thinks Sasha’s umbrella must be under here, and judging from the sharp point currently jabbing at his thigh, he probably broke it. “Is he still there?” he hisses, tilting his head to avoid bashing it into the desk.

“Who?”

“That- that man!”

A pause. “Tall, dark and handsome?”

Jon’s turn to pause. “I suppose you might call him that,” he replies stiffly. And it’s true. The man, from Jon’s brief, panicked glimpses, is at least six foot, with thick, dark hair and a bright grin.

And he looks exactly like Jon’s ex, Danny Stoker.

He’d done an almost comical double-take after a cursory glance; at first he’d thought Danny was the new hire, but this man was more angular, like a sharper, leaner version of his ex. So no, it couldn’t be him.

That didn’t stop him from diving under the nearest object, ergo Sasha’s desk. Not the wisest of decisions, considering his throbbing side, but he’s never been known for grace under pressure.

He’s not exactly sure why this fight or flight mode’s been activated- he and Danny had parted on fairly good terms, each recognizing that although they cared about the other, they simply weren’t compatible in the long term. They’d dated for a little over six months when Jon was a freshman, and he’d fallen hard.

Danny had been his first real relationship, and Jon was shocked that someone like him even looked his way. Impossibly handsome, incredibly fit, desired and envied in equal measure, and he dated scrawny, shy, insecure Jonathan Sims; the rumor mill went wild. They’d met at a party, and not even a good one. In a brief moment of liquid courage, Jon managed to insert himself into a group and fit in one snarky joke that sent Danny into stitches, the rest of the partygoers following his lead. For one second, Jon felt like he truly fit in, like he was someone worth knowing.

Danny had a way of making someone feel special. Big, romantic gestures, surprising him after class, taking him on little expeditions beyond campus. Jon didn’t drive, still doesn’t, and Danny wanted to show him the world outside of their privileged little campus.

But, like all of Jon’s relationships, it came to an end. Jon wasn’t ready for such overwhelming affection (didn’t think he deserved it, quite frankly), and Danny needed someone who could handle his fast-paced lifestyle. Jon was not that man. They broke up amicably, even if Jon shed a few tears in private, saw each other on campus a few times. Danny tried to reach out more than once, just as friends, but Jon’s never been able to handle more than one relationship at a time, and by then he’d met Georgie.

But now it seems the past is unavoidable, and standing near the circulation desk. Well, now walking in his direction, if the steady footsteps were any indication. Jon’s heart begins to hammer in his chest as it hits him that he is, in fact, hiding under a desk because a man who sort of looks like his ex is in his general vicinity. Coward.

“‘Lo!” God, even the voice is similar, if not as deep. “Tim Stoker. Reporting for duty.”

Stoker. Tim Stoker. Jon startles, slamming his head against the desk with a yelp.

Somewhere in his spiraling thoughts and throbbing head he remembers- Danny had a brother. An older brother that he adored. This must be the famous Tim- Danny made him out to be a saint, and though Jon never met him, he felt some fondness via Danny’s descriptions. But Tim’s going to have no fondness for him, especially considering Jon’s current position, hiding in pain under his coworkers desk.

“Pleased to meet you!” Sasha chirps, very clearly amused by the situation. “I’m Sasha James. And this-” she tugs at one of Jon’s legs, dragging him a few inches into sight. Jon buries his head in his hands and wishes he were invisible. “-is Jonathan Sims. We’ll be training you.”

“Excellent.” Tim’s voice holds the same good humor Danny’s always did, and sends a pang of nostalgia through his chest. “Er, you alright down there?”

“Yes,” Jon responds robotically, scrambling to his feet and standing behind Sasha’s chair, unwilling to meet the man’s eyes, lest he be drawn in. “I- uh, lost a pen. P-Probably left it in the copy room, I’ll just be going...there.” With that incredible performance, he fled.

And only tripped once on the way out.

________

So Jon’s kind of cute.

Tim doesn’t normally go for tiny disgruntled academics, but Jonathan Sims is an interesting fellow. He’s got a reputation for being the ‘problem child’ of the Research Department, awkward and prickly and always available with a snide word. He wields his books and files like a little suit of armor, and the only person he’s seen him open up to is Sasha. Besides their little conversations, Jon is all work and no play.

Except with Tim.

Sasha says she’s never seen anything like it, with one of her secret little smiles. Jon’s always staring. Usually, the man can’t hold eye contact to save his life, but he’ll spend full minutes looking at Tim when he thinks he can’t see. The first few times, Tim would turn around and smile, but that practically sent the man into convulsions, dropping his papers and jumping out of sight like a spooked cat. It was funny the first few times, but Tim pitied him enough to ignore it now. He hopes Jon enjoys the view.

God forbid he ask the guy a question. Jon will look around the room, as if waiting for someone else to answer, when it’s clearly directed at him. He’ll blush and stammer his way through every explanation, keeping a wide berth of at least two feet between them. Even when Tim wants him to look at his screen, he’ll squint from far away. Tim starting to think he smells bad, or has some sort of communicable disease unbeknownst to him.

“It’s not that,” Sasha assures him, again with that unreadable smile. “Trust me.”

Time to try something else.

He prints out his latest follow up, a rather elaborate statement regarding mistaken identities and absolutely nothing supernatural. He knows Jon prefers to look at things on paper, as screens ‘trigger his migraines’ if Tim understood his mumbles. Maybe if he can engage with him on familiar territory for the both of them, he’ll be able to hold a conversation. Tim specifically requested his help on this one.

“If you could just look it over, make sure everything’s up to snuff, that’d be great,” Tim says to the top of Jon’s head, as the man refuses to lift his own to meet his gaze. “You know how Dr. Walker is. Always-”

“Finding mistakes where there are none? I’m familiar with her methods,” Jon snorts, and Tim feels like he’s getting somewhere. A whole sentence! With classic Jonathan Sims snark! “I-I can give it a look. I’m rather busy, but -”

“Take your time,” Tim says with a dismissive wave of the hand. “I finished a bit early, so I don’t need it for a few days yet. Don’t want to put you out.”

“You’re not.” Jon meets his eyes for about ten seconds before ducking his head back down.

Progress!

#tma #jonathan sims #tim stoker #jontim #jondanny #what a tag i need to use it more often #if people do actually like this i might be tempted to give it another go #i think the outline for it ended up being too long for a week event #so i got lazy and gave up #asks #my writing #danny stoker #jondanny au

[drfitzmonster]

Baby dragon shenanigans! The baby dragon is OBSESSED with the kettle. Every time someone tries to heat up water they have to watch the kettle like a hawk or they'll find the dragon trying to pry open the top or cram their head down the spout. One time they actually managed to get in the kettle and got stuck and cried until Lena rescued them. That didn't stop the kettle love, though, they still love to curl up around it and feel the heat and rumbling they just don't try and get inside anymore.

“Kara I need you to come home right now.”

“Why? What’s the matter?”

“There is a tea kettle flying around my kitchen right now!”

“What?”

“Your dragon—” Lena screeched and ducked under the table as the kettle careened into a cabinet, breaking right through the door and pinballing around inside destroying dishes and whatever else might have been in there. “Your dragon is stuck in the kettle! They are currently destroying my kitchen and if they get to my spices, Kara, I swear to god—”

“Oh, crap.”

Kara flew home, arriving just in time to catch the kettle right before it collided with Lena’s face. She plucked the kettle from the air and peeled the metal sides apart like it was a soda can.

As soon as she did the dragon hissed and propelled themself toward Lena, curling around her neck with a disgruntled chirrup.

Lena was angry. She was angry that her kitchen was destroyed and that her favorite kettle was ruined and that she just had a near death experience involving a creature the size of a squirrel.

But she couldn’t stay angry. Lena had, despite her best efforts, become attached to the dragon, which was convenient for her since they had apparently imprinted on her and had at that moment made themself quite comfortable on her chest burrowed beneath her sweater.

“I had no idea they were going to do that.”

“I know, Kara,” Lena whispered angrily, not wanting to disturb the dragon, “but that does not undestroy my kitchen or change the fact that there is a dragon curled up between my tits right now.”

“Wish that were me,” Kara blurted out. Idiot.

“Really? That’s really what you’re going to say to me right now? Not ‘sorry the stray animal I brought home without consulting you first almost killed you’ or ‘I’ll call someone to fix the cabinets’ or ‘sorry all your Fiestaware is ruined’?”

“I really don’t think you would have died. Bad concussion, maybe.”

“That is not the point!” Lena exclaimed, her sentiment punctuated by the dragon poking their head out of the neck of her sweater and hissing at Kara. “Look you’ve gone and upset them.”

Kara burst into giggles. “It’s really hard for me to take you seriously right now.”

Lena picked up a dish towel and threw it at Kara, who, to her credit, let it hit her in the face. “It’s not fair. I can’t even be mad at you because you’re too adorable.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” Kara came closer and pulled Lena into a hug, to minor objections from the dragon. “But I think I know what will keep them out of your kettle.”

“Please enlighten me.”

Kara used her superspeed to clean up the debris and set out Lena’s backup kettle and a pot of water on the stove.

Of course. Lena could have kicked herself for not thinking of it.

Kara smirked as she turned the stove on.

“Hey!” Lena swatted at Kara’s arm. “You’re not allowed to be smug right now.”

“That’s fair, I guess,” Kara said, pouting ever so slightly.

When the dragon wiggled their way out of Lena’s sweater through the sleeve and slipped into the pot of water, Lena let out a defeated sigh.

“Ok, fine, you can be a little smug.”

Kara wrapped her arms around Lena, and kissed her softly. “I am really sorry. I didn’t think they would be such a handful.”

“Seriously? They’re like a ferret with wings, Kara.”

“I may have underestimated how curious and destructive they would be.”

“May have.”

“I definitely underestimated. I know they’re a lot, so if you want I can get someone from the DEO to take the—”

“No!”

Kara laughed. “That’s what I thought.”

“You’re such a shit sometimes,” Lena said, poking her in the chest.

“I know.” There was that smirk again.

Lena pulled her into a kiss that ended with a playful nip at Kara’s bottom lip. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

“You’re pretty cute yourself.”

Lena smiled and kissed her again.

Her kitchen was still a mess and some of her dishes were going to be hard to replace, but as she stood with Kara waiting for the kettle to boil and watching a happy baby dragon swim around on her stove, she couldn’t find it within herself to be the least bit irritated.

“We’re going to have to dragon-proof the house now,” Lena said. “And figure out a name for them.”

“What about Barry?”

“Why Barry?”

“I don’t know. They look like a Barry to me.”

“Do you like that name, little one? Barry?”

The dragon in question popped their head out of the boiling water with a mrrrp.

Lena reached out her hand. “Barry?”

They cooed and jumped out of the pot, shaking the water off their scales before flying to land on Lena’s forearm.

Lena scratched Barry’s head and they began to purr contentedly. “I think they like it.”

#supercorp #and a baby dragon #kara can't resist a stray #lena is obsessed with fiestaware bc her mother would hate it #also it's pretty #drfitz writes ficlets #stray baby dragon au

[shutupanddance]

A TOS star trek where you just transferred to the Enterprise and both Leonard McCoy and Spock like you and get competitive over who gets to date you. But you're very shy, quiet and end up hiding from both of them when they argue and get competitive in your presence. A happy ending where Spock wins the date. Please? 😊

Aha! I was so excited to write this one!! Thank you for requesting <3

- You‘ve worked on the Enterprise for just barely a week now, and are not ashamed to say that the crew are your best (and really only) friends. They can be a bit loud and excitable, but you love them with all your heart. Especially one particular crewmate. But we’re not there yet.

- When you first got transferred, there was a little apprehension. You were new, and the crew had a rhythm going. But after the first 48 hours, after everyone had actually met you, you were right at home.

- You’re pretty quiet. You’re not a fan of confrontation or loud noises. However, when you feel safe, you’ve got a great sense of humor, and the crew love you for how caring you are. You’re amazing at reading people and knowing what they need.

- Spock and McCoy are smitten.

- They both love your curiosity and quiet observance of life. And, not to mention, you’re super cute.

They already had a rivalry, but now they have you to fight over.

- McCoy goes the sweet and humorous route. He figures Spock can’t beat that. The doctor is always checking up on you, making sure you’re alright, and telling jokes to get a giggle out of you.

But somehow, some way, Spock makes you giggle even more. It’s music to the Vulcan’s ears.

- You just think Spock is hilarious. And sweet, apparently, judging by the way you look at him.

- McCoy is understandably disgruntled, and turns it up just a bit too far.

”You know, Officer, I’m sure Y/N could use some quiet time.”

Spock is indignant. “I am not sure I understand what you are saying.“

“I’m saying maybe she could use without you blabbing on about science.”

A verbal sparring match breaks out.

You sneak away.

- Spock finds you later on the observation deck, alone. It’s your favorite spot.

”Would you rather I stay, or leave?“ He asks, but you tell him you want him there with you.

- You talk for some time about everything other than the fight — about politics, languages, botany. But eventually, you’re worn out. A comfortable silence grows. The ship creaks around you, and the gentle whooshing of doors in various corridors harmonize.

”You know,” you begin, and your companion turns to you, “I like hearing you talk about science.”

- Spock couldn’t be more thrilled. Even if he doesn’t really show it. Which is part of why you love him.

- Now, weekend evenings are spent much the same for you and Spock.

Sneaking snacks onto the observation deck and enjoying the view, hand in hand.

It’s quiet and peaceful. Just the way you like it.

#star trek imagine #star trek headcanon #star trek fanfiction #star trek reader insert #star trek #star trek tos #spock headcanons #spock imagine #spock x reader #spock #leonard mccoy imagine #leonard mccoy x reader #leonard mccoy #bones imagine #bones x reader #masterlist

[generalobi]

Please please please can you write more obi is a tooka? ( Only if u want to of course ❤️💗) It's so godanm cute and I am friggin crying I love it so much!😭 Mabey obi needs to take out some baddies on a mission, ( because come on, he's General Kenobi, and he's got people to sass and commanders to not listen to) but anyone he tries to fight just dies of cutness on the spot. Mabey he tries to wield his lightsaber with the force, or using his mouth, and any villain who looks at Obi wan just can't. Stop.laughing. he's a tiny tooka with a lightsaber, of COURSE he'll look ridiculous. Anakin and Cody of course, would never let him live it down,😂😂

A tooka he may be, but he’s still a General and a Councillor. He still has a war to fight.

Obi-Wan is definitely in this situation on purpose. He absolutely meant to fight Ventress while he’s twenty times smaller and only able to wield his lightsaber with his mouth. Yup. Not at all an accident. Cody’s going to kill him.

“I can feel your presence General,” Ventress calls, “Why don’t you come out and face me? Are you still recovering from whatever had you out of the field? Are you afraid?”

No, he thinks, I’m just the size of a tuber. He hunches down, hackles rising. If he can just surprise her… there. She’s right above him.

Obi-Wan launches himself out of his crate, lightsaber flicking on with a clench of his jaw. He’s so close when he feels himself pulled to a sudden stop, hovering in midair. He can’t help it, he lets out a disappointed and very embarrassing whine.

Ventress circles him, eyes raking over his too small body, “It can’t be. General Kenobi, you’re so… small.”

He yowls, wiggling his paws uselessly.

“And ridiculous,” there’s laughter in her voice, “By the Force, look at those tiny paws. You have your ‘sabre in your mouth Kenobi, and you expect me to take you seriously? Is this a ploy? Because if so it’s working. I can’t hurt a tooka. Especially not one as cute as you.”

She boops his nose. The indignity! He may be confined in this body but he is still a General of the Republic! The Negotiator! A… oh she’s very good at giving scratches. Maybe he can just take a minute to enjoy it before he finds a way out of this. Yes, that wouldn’t be so bad.

“You are just the cutest.”

A series of explosions echoes through the base and Obi-Wan twists in the air. Where did those come from? Is that his men? It’s only a little embarrassing to need to be rescued. Another explosion sounds, this one much closer. He feels his men’s presences drawing closer.

A third explosion sends a wave of heat over Obi-Wan’s fur as the far wall ceases to exist and the 212th pours through.

“Get away from my General,” Cody snaps, blaster in hand.

“Your General? How cute. Well,” her hand disappears from his head and Obi-Wan whines, “I must be going. Better move fast if you want to catch your General before he hits the floor.”

¬

Cody dives forward, hands closing around his General as Ventress disappears into the night. He curses internally. At least Obi-Wan seems mostly unharmed, if a little disgruntled. Good, that means Cody can yell at him.

He raises the General to his face, so he can look into his eyes, “And what have I said about wandering off?”

The General squeaks, twitching his tiny ears. Around them, the 212th works on stabilizing the building and pursuing Ventress. They leave The General Scolding to Cody.

“You have to stay with the group,” he continues, “No matter how shiny anything is or how cute you think the children are. Stay. With. The. Group.”

Obi-Wan sends an impression of resigned apology, whining when Cody keeps staring at him. He waits another few seconds before giving in, and placing the General on his shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re alright, General,” he says quietly, “But please never do that again. You can’t fight like this.”

A frustrated growl rumbles through Obi-Wan’s tiny body and he turns in a tight circle before settling down again and curling into a ball. The message is clear. He’s annoyed with his tiny body and Cody’s rules. Well, that’s probably fair.

¬

Obi-Wan observes Ahsoka’s The Force and it’s Philosophy 5 class from his place between the peaks of her montrols. The current topic is one of his favourites, What is the Force?.

That’s the Yertrt Model of the Force, not the Corillian, he sends, looking over Ahsoka’s datapad.

Did Skyguy ever take this class? Ahsoka asks, correcting her answer.

No, Anakin quit after Force and Philosophy 2. He thought it was boring. He took AstroMech all the way up to 8 instead.

Ahsoka hums thoughtfully, sending a wave of fond exasperation at her Master to him. Obi-Wan sends the impression of a shrug back. Anakin would have benefited from in depth lessons on the Force but forcing him would’ve only made his resentment grow. Probably.

“Padawan Tano,” Master Windu stops in front of her desk, “Not everyone has a grandmaster on their head feeding them answers. Give Obi-Wan to me, and get on with your work.”

Ahsoka huffs but complies. She scoops Obi-Wan off her head and hands him to Mace.

You are a dirty cheater, Mace tells him, placing him on his shoulder.

Ahsoka simply makes use of the resources she has at her disposal.

Dirty. Cheater. Mace reiterates, You are giving her bad habits.

I am a High Council member, Master Windu, I do not cheat.

#tookawan #Transformed #obiisatooka #tooka obi-wan #obi-wan kenobi #cody #commander cody #mace windu #ahsoka tano #asajj ventress #obi-wan is cute #obi-wan is smol #tiny tooka #star wars #stars wars fanfic #can someone draw tookawan? #ask #answer #prompt fic #star wars clone wars #clone wars #codywan #implied codywan #mutual crush

[jawllines]

miss jaws !!!! pretty pls could you soon give us that witchrry catch up you promised us ???? 💟☹️

OH YES! IM SORRY HERE YOU GO

i.

“I do not like this form, human! Change me back at once!”

When Y/N said she wanted to try the spell that could give a familiar a human body for a little while, she really had not expected it to go over like this.

How she did imagine it was something cute and simple. She and Harry having nothing to do on a Saturday night bored out of their whits and looking for some mild entertainment. Y/N would remember that she’d seen this spell flipping through one of the books that her Nan sent her in the mail, she’d tell him they should try it, and Harry would agree, of course, because who didn’t want to see an animal as a human? It would be fun, they would get to see what Thumper and Oat would be like as something other than furry little mammals, and then they would change them back and that would be that.

However, when you’re a witch, things rarely go as planned or even think about being as easy. Maybe it was Y/N’s fault (it definitely was), but she had sort of jumped the gun on waiting for a Saturday night that she and Harry were both bored. Instead, on a Thursday night when Harry is supposed to come over after doing some business at one of the bars here, Y/N thought she should just go ahead and make the concoction now. That’s all it was -- some special herbs and mixes that the familiar would consume. She thought it would be easy to just make it, set up somewhere high that Thumper and Oat (who she watched while Harry was working) wouldn’t be able to reach it, and then surprise Harry with the fact that she had made it once he got back.

But of course, just as soon as she’s turned her back to get the lid for the bowl she’d made it in, she turns around to see Thumper with his face buried in the mix, “Hey!” She cried out, but it was already much too late; Thumper’s little nose twitched as it was covered in the pink substance, and there is a flash of light so blinding that Y/N has to close her eyes. When she opens them. . .well, she made the potion correctly. In the place of her grumpy little bunny there is a grumpy looking guy with his arms crossed and his brows furrowed. He had hair as white as Thumper’s fur, very dark colored eyes, and stark naked.

Y/N squealed, covering her eyes but before she could she saw him cover his ears, “Loud! Stop that!”

“I’m sorry,” she rushed to say, a little quieter, “Cover your -- cover your bits!”

“My what?” He sounded irritated, Y/N could only huff -- even if she hadn’t witnessed it happening, there would be no doubt in her mind that this attitude was coming from her bunny.

“The dangly thing between your legs,” she urges, “Cover it!”

There is a disgruntled sigh, “You are so rude! Why am I human? I want to be a bunny again!”

Y/N peeked her eyes open a little to make sure he had something over him, and she sees he’d settled with his hand, “Well if you would have just waited instead of sticking your nose in something that wasn’t yours, I could have explained what it was before you went and eat it! You’re such a naughty bunny.”

“I am not! You are a naughty witch. Who wants to be human anyway?” He plucked Oat up when had come around to sniff the bowl, “Don’t eat this Oat, it tastes like oranges, limes, and lemons all wrapped into one.”

Squinting, Y/N is about to scold him for being mean when the sound of a throat clearing drags their attention away from glaring at each other. He looks confused, his head tilted and his mouth had fallen open just slightly, “Who is the naked guy?” He inquired casually and said naked guy, turns his nose up at him.

“I am Thumper, can’t you see?” He sneered.

“Thumper, be nice!”

Harry hums low, “I could have sworn Thumper was about 60 centimeters tall and also a rabbit.”

“I made that -- the potion thingy, to give the familiar a human form, remember? And I was going to cover it and wait until you got home so that we could try it but someone immediately went over and started eating it!” Y/N looked back over to Thumper who is still scowling, and this is around the time he would usually stomp his foot then hop away to a different room. Seeing as he can’t hop, he stomps his foot and storms out of the room instead, still clutching Oat to his chest.

When they were out of the room, Y/N turned to face Harry with a deep pout on her mouth. He chuckled warmly, opening his arms for her, and she crosses the room to him quickly. She buries her face in his neck (he smelled like cold air and pine needles) and melts into the hug, “You’re silly, d’ya know that?” He rubbed up and down her back in large circles, “You know Thumper never minds his business when you make something that looks edible. And can I be honest? I really didn’t expect him to look. . .”

“Cute?” Y/N fills in for him, and Harry hums in agreement, “Yeah, I always imagined him as a grumpy old sod in his 70s, so you can say I’m also a little shocked.”

He laughs again, only this time he slipped away from her, looping his fingers around her wrist, “C’mon,” he murmured, “Let’s go see what they’re up to before he burns the flat down out of spite.”

. . .

As always, for some reason or another, Thumper takes better to Harry despite literally being Y/N’s familiar. He eventually calms down but only because Harry offered him the whole bag of carrot chips in the fridge, and asks him what he would like to watch on TV. When he choose animal planet, both Y/N and Harry hold back a snicker so they wouldn’t piss him off all over again. And despite not being happy about it, he does put on the boxers Harry gives him.

And like always, while Y/N and Harry are snuggled together on the couch watching the telly and waiting out for Thumper to relax enough to stop grumbling and grousing about how much this form stinks. He was always grumpy for a time but then relaxed after a while and usually crawled his way into Y/N or Harry’s lap to sleep. They figured he would alter it some since now he was about 160lbs at 6ft, but Thumper was not one to conform to anything with others in mind. If he wanted in a lap, he was getting in a lap, which is how Harry and Y/N both ended up with him stretched out across their thighs with his head resting on the couch pillow.

It was odd, but objectively, weirder things had happened.

He told them Oat didn’t want to be a human and kept her cuddled against him so he could “protect her from you rotten humans” and they both allowed it to happen, so she was snuggled up too. It was just a big cuddle pile, much how they usually are only with more human legs and arms than usual. Ultimately, he did calm down enough that they could pick his brain a little bit, and learn more about him than what was usually permitted between he and Y/N’s thought transference. Even then, at his calmest, it was like pulling teeth to get much of anything out of him.

“How long have you been around?”

“A very long time.”

“Well, yeah, but in years --”

“Many years.”

Y/N sighed, and Harry would squeeze her shoulder, chewing hard on his lip to stop himself from giggling, “Alright,” she continued, “Where were you born?”

“Earth.”

“Thumper,” Harry plucked Oat up from where she’d been sitting on his shoulder, “Oat wants to know too, she said! You wouldn’t keep her from knowing, would you?”

Thumper, whose eyes had been closed (they were completely black, which was a little startling to say the least, but nobody brings it up), blinks one of them open and peeks over at Oat who is looking at him with her head tilted. With a small huff, he readjusted himself, closing his eyes once more, “I have been around for 980 years,” he answered, and a small smile twitches at his mouth when they both gasp, “I was born in the Netherlands, and my first owner called me Finn. I hate this name, but she was not a witch and often fed me many good plants from her garden, so I suffered through it.”

Under the guise of Oat wanting to know, Thumper tells them plenty about himself, and it becomes quite clear why he was such a grumpy guy. He’d been around for years upon years and constantly switched owners, more often than not because they did something to upset him. Sometimes they would forget about him, sometimes they would step on his paw, other times they would call him mean names, and the worst of it -- they would punish him for nibbling on things. “I always wait for you to do something to upset me, but you have done nothing yet.”

“Shouldn’t you give me the benefit of the doubt at this point?” She patted at his full belly and he swatted her hand, “You did come to my doorstep didn’t you? S’not even like I stole you from the woods.”

“I smelled fresh fruit and plants, how was I to know I’d find a gardening witch? The imprinting was unintentional!”

Y/N pouted, Harry tugged her closer to him though and traced looping patterns into her arm, “You know he loves you,” Harry tells her, then takes a turn to poke at Thumper’s belly -- he swats him away too which makes Y/N feel a little better, “Oat tells me all the time how much nice stuff he says about you. He even comforts you when you’re sad! I think this grumpy stuff is all an act.”

Thumper’s brows furrow but he does not deny it, instead, he crosses his arms and turns his face away.

She smiles.

He eventually changes back after five hours and it was while they all had fallen asleep. One moment there was a very heavy presence with their arms circled around Y/N’s waist, with their head on her belly -- the next there’s a furry little body sat in her lap. He curled up in a tighter ball and snuggled nearer -- he didn’t even nip her when she pulled him up to sleep in her arms. Y/N maneuvers them both, and in doing so stirs Harry, who accommodates her. Her back to his chest, his arm flopped over her body, Thumper in her arms, and Oat sleeping at the top of Harry’s head.

Y/N wonders how she ever got to sleep without being like this.

#BLURBS

[duskholland]

Cuddle Buddies | Peter Parker

summary ↠ you’re touch-starved, Peter’s your best friend, and there’s a whole lot of unresolved romantic tension between you; friends to lovers.

word count ↠ 3.4k

warnings ↠ uh oh.... there’s only one bed..? additionally maybe two swear words? also copious amounts of fluff lmao

a/n ↠ so apparently I really wanna cuddle Peter Parker. wbk. this is very cute and made me so soft when I wrote it. I hope you enjoy it! please let me know if you have any thoughts :D

“God damn, MJ, I think I’m actually going to die if I don’t get a hug soon.”

You’re rambling, your voice full of heavy frustration. Your hair is unkempt and messy from all the times you’ve run your fingers through it, and you stare at Michelle with a wild look in your eyes that makes her press a hand to her hips and laugh lightly.

“Has anyone told you that you’re really good at being dramatic, Y/N?” She replies casually, causing you to mock an outraged gasp. You sit down at the lunch table together, setting down your trays in front of you.

You manage a glare at your friend. “You’re so mean to me,” you whine. “You don’t understand how desperate I am.”

MJ narrows her eyes. “I don’t think it’s possible to die from lack of human contact,” she chimes.

“Who’s dying?”

You startle as a third, familiar voice joins the conversation, and crane your neck to see Peter slipping into the open seat beside you. He gives you an easy smile that stretches all the way to his soft, lovely brown eyes, and you feel your heart ache.

“No one’s dying,” Michelle replies. When Peter shoots her an inquisitive look, she adds, “Y/N thinks she’s going to perish if she doesn’t find someone to hug.”

You scowl at MJ, biting the inside of your cheek as you try not to let the embarrassment show on your face. It’s one thing to have this conversation with MJ - your close friend and number one confidant - but Peter? It’s an entirely different story. He may be your best friend, but your feelings are far more than simply platonic when it comes to him.

“Oh…” Peter looks at you curiously, his eager eyes darting over your face. He leans his elbows on the table and rests his chin in his hands, looking utterly adorable with his face pulled into a cute smile. His grin widens as you meet his gaze, and he nods knowingly. “Hugs are nice.”

You nod in appreciative agreement. “Exactly!”

MJ just rolls her eyes. “You guys are so weird.”

Ned joins the table and begins talking to MJ about a chemistry project, and Peter turns to you properly.

“Hey, so, are we still on for that study session later?” He asks you, his teeth briefly gliding across his lower lip. You try not to focus too much on the curve of his mouth, but it’s very difficult.

“Um, yeah,” you squeak, feeling your cheeks heat up a little as you remember the arrangement you’d made with Peter earlier in the week. “Mine or yours?”

“Yours?” Peter suggests.

“Okay. My parents are still away on business, so it’ll just be us. Is that okay?”

Your friend nods his head, his fluffy brown curls shifting around his face. “Sounds great.” Peter gives you a nervous smile, and it sets your heart racing. “I can’t wait.”

-----

Peter turns up a little after 7pm, a box of pizza in his hands. You spend a while chatting and watching Star Wars, and then eventually pull yourselves around to studying. You opt for your bedroom, with its very comfortable fluffy carpet, and you spread out all of your notebooks and pens around you before lying on your stomach and lazily flicking through your notes. But you can’t quite focus because something is amiss.

Peter is acting very oddly tonight. And he’s normally a little hyperactive, but it’s as if he’s on another level entirely. He keeps glancing up to you, then looking away the moment you bring your eyes up to meet his, and he hasn’t stopped drumming his fingers over the front of his maths textbook all night. You’re already nervous enough being around him, alone and within such close proximity to him, and his antics aren’t helping you at all.

You might have a teeny tiny crush on Peter Parker. Possibly. But you’d never tell him that.

“Pete,” you say, reaching breaking point when you catch him staring at your face for the fifth time in one minute. You sit up and turn to look at him, meeting his guilty, rose-tinted face. “What’s going on? You seem so unsettled. Are you okay?”

Peter opens and closes his mouth a few times, his eyes meeting yours nervously. His voice is more a squeak than anything else as he says, suddenly, “Do you want to cuddle me?”

You blink, totally blindsided by the change in topic.

“Uh, cuddle you?”

“Um, I mean, sorry, that’s such a weird thing to just come out and say, I- I just remembered earlier, with MJ, what she was saying, and I was wondering if you’d want to hug me, if you- if you want a hug so badly.” Peter breaks off, a disgruntled groan coming up his throat as he buries his flushed face in his hands. “I’m sorry, Y/N, shit, that was such a weird thing to ask. Can we just pretend I never said anything?”

You chuckle, your lips pulling into a wide smile. “You would let me hug you?” You ask gently. Peter parts his fingers and looks at you through the gaps, nodding slightly. “I’d like that, Peter.”

He looks so shocked by your statement that it brings another quiet laugh from your mouth. “O-Okay.” Peter clumsily opens his arms. “Um, here?”

It’s painfully awkward at first. He’s sitting at the foot of your bed, his back resting up against the mattress, so you have to do a weird sort of crawl over to him, feeling his wide, anxious eyes pressing onto your figure the whole way. It doesn’t help that you’re practically shaking from nerves now.

You’ve known Peter since the start of high school, but you’ve not really hugged him before. The most you’ve shared is a brief celebratory high-five after acing a biology presentation together, and even that contact had lingered in your mind for days after. The concept of crawling up to and hugging your crush makes your palms sweaty and your mind a numb anxious mess, but you do it, because it’s Peter, and the opportunity to cuddle up next to him is so enticing you think you’d do anything just to feel his arms around your body.

The angle is difficult, but Peter spreads his legs out across the carpet and pats his thighs, and you realise he wants you to straddle his lap, so you clamber into his hold gently. He’s sturdy beneath you, with a pair of dark denim jeans stretched over his firm thighs, and he’s quick to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you in. You let your hands find his sides, and then you settle into a very close, very intimate hug with your best friend.

It’s lovely.

He smells of soft bubbles and peppermint, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck, partly because it’s comfortable, but mostly because you don’t want him to see the massive, embarrassing grin fixed to your mouth. Your heartbeat’s going crazy - you can feel it pressing against your ribs almost painfully, and it only doubles in speed as Peter’s hands move slowly across your back, rubbing large, soothing circles over your hoodie. You savour the moment, your eyes closed as you enjoy just being held by your best friend.

“Is this okay?” Peter asks, after a few moments.

You hum against his neck, squeezing his torso softly. He’s wearing one of Midtown’s navy hoodies, and it feels particularly soft against your forehead. “Thanks, Pete,” you mumble, enjoying the moment entirely too much. “You’re really good at hugs, you know that?”

“You’re also a very nice hugger,” Peter replies. You swallow deeply as you feel him tighten his grip on your sides and pull you even closer.

“Sometimes it’s just nice to be held,” you find yourself saying. You’re starting to feel really comfortable now, and find yourself relaxing and shifting further into him.

“Definitely.” His voice is still ringing at a higher pitch than you’re used to, but you put it down to the late evening hour. “Um, Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“If you, uh, ever need another hug, you can always text me.”

You’re so glad you have your face buried in Peter’s warm neck because the grin latched to your lips is so large you think you’d die from embarrassment if your friend could see how giddy his words make you feel.

“Okay,” you say. “Thanks, Pete.” You pause for a moment, and take stock of the way he seems to be clinging to you just as tightly as you are to him. “You can always text me too, if you ever want a hug. Or anything, really.” You manage to collapse your smile so it’s more of a weak grin, and you pull back to look at Peter. His hands fall down to loosely grasp at your hips, and you find him looking at you with warm, attentive eyes and a wide smile hanging from his pink lips.

He looks so cute, and relaxed, and perfect, and you really can’t believe your luck that you’re sitting holed up in his arms just now.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he mumbles shyly, eyes flittering across every part of your face. “You’re a great friend.”

You deserve an Oscar for maintaining the smile on your face, despite the way his words stab painfully at your heart.

“You too, Pete,” you mutter. “The best friend ever.”

The air between you holds just a little too much tension, so you shift and push your face back into his shoulder, hugging him again. Peter’s arms tighten around your waist, and you sigh softly, revelling in rare the feeling of him so close to you, even if it isn’t under the circumstances you crave. You’d take anything Peter could offer you, even if it makes your heart ache.

------

It easily becomes a habit.

Soon enough, it’s been three months, and you’re spending almost every evening with Peter. The more you meet up, the more natural folding into his arms becomes, and soon you find that your favourite parts of the day are the moments you share curled up together.

Sharing affection with Peter is easy, but it comes at a cost - it ties your heart up in knots to spend so much time pressed up against his chest, acting so intimately with him, but then to pull back and go back about your day like nothing really happened. Every second you spend hugging him hurts you because your heart yearns so deeply to have more, but you just can’t bring yourself to tell him how you feel. You value your friendship with Peter too much to risk ruining it all because of a stupid crush, and you’re not ready to stop your evening shenanigans, so you decide to just put up with it and suffer in silence.

A few months into your arrangement, you find yourself at Peter’s when the power across the city goes out in the middle of a thunderstorm.

“Holy shit,” you mutter, shivering as you glance outside and see a flash of sharp lightning cut across the city. The rain pelts down against the pavements so loudly that you can hear it through the gap in the window. You turn and look at Peter, wide-eyed. “Bet you’re glad the Stark internship let you leave earlier than usual today. I’m not looking forward to walking back in that later.”

“Y/N, you can’t go home in the middle of a thunderstorm, especially if the power is out,” Peter tells you firmly, his arms crossing over his chest. He looks so cute with his eyebrows scrunched into a caring scowl that you can’t stop yourself from smiling. “Stay here tonight. May’s out of town, but I can sleep on the sofa. I don’t want you to go across the city by yourself at the moment.”

You bite your lower lip, eyeing the slants of rain that pour over Queens. “It does look pretty horrible out there,” you admit. Your expression shifts into guilt as you eye Peter closely. “You can’t sleep on the sofa, though. I will.”

“No, I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“Peter, it’s your apartment, I’m not about to kick you out of your own bed.”

“Then join me.”

“In your bed? With you?”

“Yes.” Peter’s face is a bright red as he flusters, “Um, only if you’re comfortable with that though, Y/N. You don’t have to. I just thought that- because, y’know, we’re kinda… close now, you might want to. But you don’t-”

“I want to,” you say, the words tumbling out before you can think them through properly. You’re rendered utterly incapable of sensible thought, because Peter’s looking at you so intently that it whips the breath straight out of your lungs. “Really, Pete, that would be nice, if you’re sure you don’t mind..?”

“No! I want to,” he replies. Peter runs his delicate fingers through his brown waves, pushing his strands away from his face easily. His smile is gentle, and it grows as you return it shyly. “I’ll go get you some clothes.”

You make light conversation as you both get ready for bed together. Peter even finds you a spare toothbrush in the cabinet beneath the sink, and you pull faces at him in the mirror as you brush your teeth together side by side. It feels so domestic, but also incredibly comfortable and normal, and you decide that you feel more at home by Peter’s side than you do anywhere else in the world. You realise that maybe you’d just been deluding yourself each time you’d dismissed your feelings for him as simply a crush. Maybe, your feelings run a lot deeper for your friend - far deeper than you’d ever intended for them to grow. Because you realise, as Peter laughs loudly when you pull a face at him in the mirror, that your feelings for the boy have taken firm root in your heart, and you’re absolutely fucking in love with him.

“So, um, I normally sleep on the left side, but I can swap if you want that side,” Peter tells you. The power has finally come back on and the weather has cleared up, but neither of you comment on it as he closes his bedroom door behind you and gestures at his nice, gingham-patterned bedspread.

“I can go on the right side,” you offer.

Peter turns off the light and you both shuffle to your respective sides of his bed. You’ve been in his room a thousand times before, but you’ve never ventured beneath his lovely soft covers, and you find yourself sighing slightly as you shuffle beneath the duvet. His pillows are light and feathery, and your head sinks into them easily.

He seems intent to stay as far away from you as possible, and he clings to the far edge of the mattress. It brings a frown to your mouth, but you let him be; if that’s where he has to be in order to feel comfortable, then you’ll let him stay there. Just because you feel something else fluttering about in your heart for him, does not mean he feels the same way - even if you were sure he’d been hugging you a little closer, recently, and staring at your lips more than he used to. But maybe that was all in your head.

“Do you need anything?” Peter asks slowly. You stare up at his ceiling, your eyes taking in the dark curves of his smooth roof.

“No,” you reply. “Your bed is very comfortable.”

You hear the sheets ruffle as Peter slowly turns over. You fold over onto your side and find yourself facing him, his bright eyes twinkling slightly beneath the light that streams in from the city outside. He looks very cute, with the duvet bunched up beneath his chin and his fluffy hair all messy and waved out across his forehead, and it makes you happy to see him so relaxed and free. Sometimes it feels as though Peter carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, and you’d give anything to see him gentle and carefree like this. It makes you feel a surge of pride to know you can give him just a little bit of peace.

“Yeah, I dunno where May got the mattress but it’s amazing.” Peter breaks off, shifting around a little, and you freeze up when you feel his hand brush against yours beneath the covers. “Oh, uh, sorry,” he mutters, immediately jerking his hand back. You can just about make out the dark flush of his cheeks.

“‘S okay,” you murmur, biting your lower lip. A beat passes, and then you add, “We hug all the time, Peter. You can touch me, y’know.”

He takes it as an invitation, and he tenderly reaches out. His warm hand finds the curve of your waist, and you stay remarkably still as he slowly shuffles a little closer.

“Is this okay?” Peter whispers into the air.

“Yeah.”

Finally you unstick, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You shift towards him, as if magnetised, and your hand goes up to rest on his side, too. His t-shirt feels soft beneath your hold, and you find your mind reeling as you take in his warmth, his scent, his touch.

Peter’s face is very near you now. Your legs are tangled together. Your head shifts onto his pillow, and suddenly he’s holding you flush against him, your noses almost touching.

“Y/N,” he says slowly. His eyes are wide and nervous, and they keep dipping down to settle on the curve of your lips.

“Pete,” you respond, your voice fragile. You can hardly keep still, for how nervous you’re feeling now. He’s pulled you right against him, and for the first time, you question whether your feelings are actually one sided. His warm fingers burn against your side, tracing delicate circles over the material of your borrowed shirt. “You’re really close.”

“Do you want me to move?” You’ve never heard him like this before: all warm, and gentle, and inviting. It ignites a whirlwind of butterflies inside your chest, and you really can’t stop yourself from saying, quietly,

“I want you to kiss me.”

Peter’s lips are on yours before you know it. Soft, at first, and a little bit bumpy and awkward. But he loosens up as you reach up and wrap your fingers around his hair, and you kiss him back with all that you have. Peter pulls you closer as you kiss him deeply, savouring the feeling of his warm, pillowy lips and enjoying the way your heart blooms in your chest as your best friend kisses you back. He releases a small noise of enjoyment into your mouth as you nibble over his bottom lip, and then he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth, and you’re making out, your figures lazily intertwined.

It feels so right to be kissing Peter that you briefly wonder why you’ve never tried this out before.

“I, um, I really like you, Y/N,” Peter whispers against you, when you finally pull back. Your lips tingle as you giggle into the air, your fingertips trailing through the soft strands of his chestnut hair. “In fact, I… I’ve been in love with you for months.”

Your mouth runs dry, and all you can really do to stop the tears of relief from slipping out of your eyes is lean in and kiss him again, hard. You kiss him like you’ve been dreaming about for months: slowly, passionately and lovingly - growing in tempo as you fervently try to convey everything you’ve kept hidden away inside your heart.

When you break away, you keep your lips nuzzled against his and breathe out a deep, “I love you too, Peter.”

You giggle together, and you feel so overcome with adoration for the boy that you simply have to kiss him again.

“D’you want to go on a date with me?” Peter asks gently, between gaps in your soft kisses. You finally move away from his lips and settle nearer, your forehead finding his chest as his arms encircle your waist and he holds you close in a warm, consuming cuddle.

“I would love to go on a date with you, Peter,” you mumble against his front. You smile softly as you feel his lips trail across your forehead, and your heart stirs happily in your chest.

“Okay,” he says, sounding immediately relieved. “I’m excited.”

You hum sleepily into his chest, your fingers curling around his strong back. “Me too,” you mumble.

“Night night, Y/N,” he says, his voice already being carried away as you drift further into dreamland. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Pete,” you reply. You know nothing else will compare to the feeling of being holed up in your best friends arms, with his lips scattering a dusting of kisses across your forehead, and you try to cling desperately to every single moment and sensation. “Sweet dreams.”

Peter leaves a final kiss on your forehead, and then you drift off to sleep with him, your figures entangled, and, for the first time, your hearts beating together as one.

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

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masterlist

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfic #peter!friends to lovers #friends to lovers

[bruhstories]

Dazed and Confused

Summary: You and Connie have been friends for ten years, crushing on each other like a bunch of idiots who can't confess their feelings for one another. Until you go on a trip with your friends. Pairing: Connie Springer x Fem!Reader Warnings & Content: 18+, language, oral sex (female & male receiving), unprotected sex, weed smoking, alcohol consumption, f l u f f Word Count: 4.2 k

A/N: I got so pissed at that last anon that I finished this oneshot quicker lol. @fiaficsxo here it is!

You loved parties. Not the loud music and thick smoke, not the booze and smell of vomit, but your friends. Every time they gathered at someone's place, your heart fluttered, filled with happiness and content and long-lasting memories.

Connie had the brilliant idea of spending a week in the mountains during your spring break, and you wasted an entire night searching for the perfect cottage to rent. Luckily everyone was down with his suggestion, the only problem was how you'd sleep. Historia obviously wanted to share a room with Ymir. Mikasa and Eren were an item now, so they'd have to sleep together. Armin wanted to try his luck with Annie, so no one objected to that. Jean declared that he wanted to bunk with Connie, like the two eligible bachelors they were, and that left you and Sasha to share a room together. You didn't mind it, in all honesty you loved Sasha with all your heart — but you secretly hoped someone would pick up on your feelings for Connie and let you sleep with him. You weren't that lucky.

You packed your bag the night before the trip, obsessively ticking everything on your list and double checking every item and pocket. It was ready, with one item missing — the white lace babydoll smoothed on your dorm bed. You chewed the pen cap, debating whether to bring it with you or not. You bought it for special occasions, but you haven't had a dick appointment in a long time, and you doubted you'd have one this week. With a shrug, you decided to bring it — you never know what might happen. Nighttime passed quickly and you soon found yourself all dolled up, albeit still sleepy from all the tossing and turning, excited to make more memories with your friends.

The train station was packed with people, especially students who went back to their hometowns for the break, and you were relieved to find Armin and Mikasa there. You three were always punctual, followed by Jean and Annie. Eren, Sasha and Connie were always late, which is why you told them the train leaves at 7 am instead of 7:30. It was a dirty strategy, but no one wanted to miss such a fun opportunity because of those lazy fuckers. And lo and behold, they decided to appear at 7:15.

"That was some good thinking." Jean shook his head, hand sympathetically placed on your shoulder.

"I'm only glad you guys rolled with it." You laughed without noticing the way Connie stared at you, and even he didn't understand exactly what he felt. Was he grumpy because he hated morning, or was it Jean's hand on you that irked him?

"It's not polite to stare." Sasha pulled Connie out of his thoughts.

"I wasn't staring, I was looking." Connie rolled his eyes, gripping the handle of his suitcase a bit too tightly.

"I just don't get it why you don't tell her you like her." The girl popped a bubblegum baloon, proceeding to chew it very loudly.

"Are you kidding me? She obviously likes Jean. Look how she's laughing!"

Sasha placed an arm on his shoulder, a sheepish smile on her face. "You, my friend, are a dumbass."

"Takes one to know one."

To say that your friends were loud during the train ride was an understatement. They didn't really care about the nasty glares other passengers shot at them, opting to talk, sing, eat and practically embarrass themselves. But two hours later you arrived, and the fresh, crisp air of the mountains was a blessing. You didn't regret coming, all of you deserved a break after all the exams, studying and all-nighters you guys pulled.

"We could visit the military museum!" Armin suggested, but Connie scrunched his nose.

"We came here to get high, drink and spend time together, why the fuck would we visit some old ass building?"

"I'd like to go to the museum." You awkwardly smiled, earning a 'see?' from the blond. Mikasa, Eren and Annie backed you up, and since it was a democracy, you ended up leaving your bags at the cottage and touring the small town to find the military museum. The building wasn't massive, and inside it was dark, with crimson carpets and dim lights. It was actually quite a romantic atmosphere, had it not been for the weapons and armours displayed in glass cases. Connie watched you intently, taking in every movement, every flinch, every hair tucking, every scrunch of your cute nose. You absorbed the information, hungry for knowledge. This was something you and Connie didn't share — yes, you were down to drinking and smoking, but you were also eager to learn and study, while he always preached how 'you can always retake an exam but you can't relive a party.' He wasn't stupid by any means, but unlike you, Jean, Armin and Mikasa — who alwaysstudied and never skipped lectures — Connie would wing it and somehow end up getting better grades. His strategy didn't always work, and sometimes, when you were in college, he'd ask you to tutor him. Now you were second year undergraduates, and while you were studying different subjects, you still made time for each other.

"That's a nice, uhh..." Connie squinted, "...shotgun."

"It's a musket." You chuckled, your fingers accidentally brushing his as you turned around to face him.

"Shotgun, musket, same thing."

"Actually, muskets are muzzle-loaded and fire a single bullet, but shotguns pack multiple pellets in one shell." You explained. "I'm sorry, you're probably not interested in my ramblings."

"No, no, it's... interesting. I just wasn't expecting you to know so much about guns." He rubbed his nape and smiled at you.

"Well, I do study history, in case you forgot."

"How could I forget that?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" You awkwardly elbowed Connie. Why was it so hard for you to just tell him your feelings? Oh, right, because you've been friends for ten years and if he didn't like you back, it would only ruin a great friendship.

"It means you brag about it so much it's kind of hard to forget." He told you, quickly realising just how insulting that sounded.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know that's how you felt..." You sighed, eyes darting back to the weapons.

"No, I didn't- forget it." Connie shook his head. Well played.

Back at the cottage, with enough food and booze to last the group a month, you decided to stay in your room for the rest of the day. It wasn't the first time you had embarrassing moments with Connie, but this particular one made you anxious to be around him. Did he really dislike you that much, or was it just friendly banter? If you were to ask him, you could find out, but every scenario in your head had a bad outcome, so avoiding him for now was the smartest choice. Sasha pleaded with you to spend the evening in the living room with everyone else, but you brushed her off, telling her you weren't feeling quite well.

"Text me if you need anything." She told you before leaving. It was immature to act this way, you knew that all too well, but it wasn't like Connie cared, right? You eventually decided to go downstairs after finishing a long episode of your favourite tv show, your stomach begging for nourishment. As silently as possible, you tiptoed behind the couch. The hallway was dim, the sun had already set, and the only lights were the ones from the wide TV screen in the living room where your friends were watching some corny horror movie. You could cut the suspense and tension with a knife, and when you dropped a teaspoon, everyone jumped.

"Sorry, sorry! It's just me!"

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, you almost gave me a heart attack." Jean got up from the floor and walked behind the couch. "How are you feeling? Sasha said you're ill."

"I'm fine, don't worry." You picked the spoon up and threw it in the sink. "It's just a headache, I'll sleep it off."

"Good, we need you here." The man wrapped an arm around you. "You're missing how Connie's crapping his pants at this shitty movie."

From the outside it would seem like you and Jean were a couple, but the truth was far from it. You two grew up together, his family was friends with your family, and what you had was nothing more than a brother-sister relationship. Jean's little remark earned a disgruntled look from Connie, you quickly picked up on that, and so you playfully jabbed him in the stomach.

"Connie's crapping his pants? You're the one who almost had a heart attack." You grinned.

"Oi, that was only because you dropped your stupid spoon. I was invested in the movie."

"Mhm, sure you were."

"Hey, you sure you don't want to join us?" Mikasa waved at you from the living room. You pondered over her question. Perhaps it wouldn't be too awkward to sit with them.

"Alright, sure, why not?"

"Come, sit next to me." Sasha shuffled to the side, but what she really meant by that was 'sit next to Connie', because she shuffled to the otherside.

The following two nights were surprisingly quiet, all you did was play board games, watch movies and walk around the town taking pictures. The tension between Connie and you seemed to dissipate, and you both forgot the unpleasant interaction you had on the first day. But on the fourth night, that's when shit hit the fan. Annie and Armin left for a date, and Eren and Mikasa wanted to spend the night alone in their room, leaving you, Sasha, Jean and Connie unsupervised, bored and tipsy. There was absolutely nothing good to watch on the TV, and you almost wanted to scream when your friends wanted to play truth or dare. It was one of those games you despised, because the whole point of it was to put the players in uncomfortable situations. And you didn't like being uncomfortable, unlike your friends.

"Jean, truth or dare?" Sasha beamed.

"Dare, duh."

"Alright, I dare you to switch roommates for the rest of the week." She sipped her blackberry cider.

"Okay? So, I'll stay with Y/N, then."

Good lord, if looks could kill, Connie's would annihilate Jean and Sasha off the face of the Earth.

"No, no, you'll stay with me. Y/N will stay with Connie."

"Eh? Why does your dare involve us?" You asked, confused and curious of your friend's proposal.

"Because." She shrugged. "Don't pussy out."

"I'm not pussying out. A dare's a dare." Jean scoffed. "I'm gonna go take my shit in your room and shower."

"Y-yeah, I'll go bring mine, too." You got up, using this time to hyperventilate alone. What the fuck was Sasha even thinking? Was this some stupid joke? But your friends wouldn't harm you, so why would she suggest such a stupid thing?

You took a quick shower before curling up in the bed, blankets covering you from neck to toe. Connie wasn't back yet, and you didn't want to go after him, that would just be odd. You were hoping you'd fall asleep before he returned, to avoid any unnecessary fuss, but just as you closed your eyes, the door opened. Maybe you could pretend you were asleep? He struggled to find his pyjamas in the dark, stumbling over furniture and knocking things down, and you turned the bedside lamp on to ease his search.

"Did I wake you up?" Connie bit his lower lip, and through the dim light you watched the way his grey eyes glistened, the way his short brown hair was ruffled, and how the sage green t-shirt hugged his toned abdomen.

"No, no, 's alright. I wasn't sleeping. I can't exactly fall asleep." You clutched the blanket at your chest as you shook the intrusive thoughts away. Connie was your friend, damn it, there was no room for romance between you.

"I can sleep on the floor if you want."

"Oh, God, no, it's... stiff."

"Um, yeah, it kinda is. Alright then, I'll jump in the shower real quick before going to bed." He stumbled into the bathroom and you really wanted to fall asleep now.

But you couldn't. Every time you closed your eyes, Connie's face popped in your head. So much for resting. You tossed and turned on the mattress, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in, but nothing helped. It didn't take long for him to finish his shower, and you mentally chastised yourself for not falling asleep when you felt him shuffle under the same blanket that was covering you. For a minute, you didn't utter a word, you barely breathed, afraid to disturb the silence in the room.

"Are you asleep?"

"Nope." You heard the click of Connie's phone and turned around. You couldn't see him, but you could hear him.

"Do you wanna talk about something? Until we fall asleep, I mean." You suggested.

"Hmm, sure." He turned on his side and you felt his breath fanning over your cheeks. You were too close to him. "Actually, d'you wanna smoke?"

"Aren't the others gonna be mad if we smoke without them?"

"They don't have to know. Besides, you and I never smoked together." Connie was already up, rummaging through his backpack with the flashlight of his phone. "And then we can talk as much as you want."

"Alright, I'm down."

You laid on the floor, your head next to Connie's as you looked at the ceiling, smoke leaving your lips. He took the joint from you, fingers touching yours and you blushed, the haze of the weed melting your worries away.

"Do you want me to skip the song?" Connie asked, and for a moment you forgot there was a song playing.

"No, I like it." You confessed. "I didn't know you liked Led Zeppelin."

"There's lots of things you don't know about me, Y/N." He passed you the joint.

"Okay, tell me something else I don't know."

"I like it when you randomly say historical or scientific facts."

"Didn't you say I brag too much about it?" You took one final drag before you stubbed the joint out in a makeshift ashtray filled with a bit of water. By this point you were high as a kite, every trace of rationality gone.

"That doesn't mean I don't like it." Connie smiled and you could feel it in his voice. "Now you tell me something I don't know about you."

"I can't sleep with open doors. It freaks me out." You sat up, a breeze blowing through the window sending shivers down your spine. "It's a bit cold, do you mind if I close the window?"

"Go ahead."

You got up and picked the ashtray up but before you could close the window, you stumbled over a chest of drawers, the ashes mixed with water spilling over your t-shirt.

"You okay?" He quickly crawled to you, concern written all over his face.

"Yeah, I'm just clumsy." You laughed it off and waved your free hand. "I'll go get changed, I should have a spare shirt."

But you didn't have a spare shirt. All you had was that stupid white babydoll, and anxiety seeped through your veins. You couldn't exactly show up in that in front of your crush. And you didn't want to ask him for a shirt either. Fuck it, what else could you do?

You peeked out the bathroom door and saw Connie back in bed, lazily scrolling through his phone. God, this was embarrassing.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He laughed, but when your facial expression didn't change, he frowned. "Y/N?"

"Um, so, I didn't have a spare shirt and- Jesus, this is awkward." You opened the door and his eyes widened. "Is it alright if I sleep in this?"

"Oh, I get it now." Connie scoffed.

"Get what?"

"You were hoping you'd share a room with Jean, right?" He sounded almost disgusted.

"Excuse you? Where did you even get that idea?" You slammed the bathroom door shut, arms folded across your chest.

"I'm not stupid, Y/N. I've seen the way you two act. Do yourselves a favour and just fuck already."

You were speechless. Completely reactionless. The weed amplified your anger, but his words brought tears to your eyes.

"You... you fucking asshole! You think I brought this for Jean? I brought it for you!"

"Eh? M-me?" Connie was confused, and you were pissed.

"Yes, you. Jean's like a brother to me, oh my God! Ew!"

"Wait, so you and Jean are not in love with each other?"

"In love?? Connie, how high are you exactly?" You walked closer to the bed, arms still crossed.

"But- Fuck, I am stupid." He shook his head, the memories of you flirting with him flashing before his eyes. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

"A bit..." Your muscles relaxed and you sat on the mattress. "Really, Connie, I... I like you. A lot. But you're always giving me mixed signals."

"That's because I always thought you liked Jean!" He threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

"No, you're the only one."

"Huh, guess I've really been dazed and confused."

Calloused fingertips ran across your hips leaving goosebumps in their trail. Your hands roamed his back and the way Connie kissed you was better than any high you've ever experienced. He was touch-starved, and you were just as needy. His knee found its place between your thighs and you moaned when it barely brushed your cunt.

"I've been dreaming for this moment for as long as I can remember." Connie breathed into your neck, the hot breath tickling your skin.

"Me too, you blind bat." You laughed and he turned you over, hovering over you.

"'M sorry I didn't notice quicker." He kissed you again. One hand travelled lower, pushing your underwear to the side before he pushed two fingers between your folds. "Fuck, you're so wet."

"Well, at least now I don't have to finger myself thinking about you." You whimpered with a grin.

"Oh?" Connie arched a brow. "Is that what you've been doing?" He curled up his fingers and you threw your head back with a moan. "I thought you were a prude."

"T-there's lots of things you d-don't know about m-me!" You replied back between oh’sand ah’s, imitating his words from an hour ago. That only earned a sneer from Connie, his head dipping between your thighs. "Wait, what are you do- ooh fuck!"

His tongue lapped at your cunt, fingers pumping in and out of you, and you completely sunk into the mattress, moaning his name over and over again. You gripped the sheets, flexing the muscles in your legs as you squirmed and thrashed. Connie stopped and you almost crushed his skull with your thighs at the empty feeling. He pulled your underwear down and shoved the cotton panties in your mouth.

"Don't wake everyone up, Y/N. You don't want them knowing what a little slut you are, do you?"

You shook your head and Connie went back to circling your clit with his tongue, adrenaline rushing through your entire body with each lick, each suck. Tears of pleasure pooled at your eyes, nose and cheeks red from the thrill of your incoming orgasm. The way he was sloppily eating your pussy and moaning while doing it drove you insane, and within seconds you came undone, thighs trembling with delight. In fact, you were so sore you had to push his head back, begging him to stop so you could return the favour.

"You taste so sweet." Connie licked his lips. You don't know what possessed you to pull him into a kiss after you removed the makeshift gag, but he was right, you were sweet.

"Can I...?" Your eyes drifted down to his twitching cock, your voice soft and quiet.

"You wanna suck it?"

"Yes."

"Later. Right now, I wanna fuck you."

Connie gave you no time to protest, his elbow pushed one of your things to the side, the blushing tip of his cock grazing over your overstimulated clit, up and down your slit. Inch by inch it disappeared into your cunt and he let out a satisfied sigh. You bucked your hips, manicured nails digging into his shoulders with each thrust.

"Shit, you're so fucking tight!" Connie growled, head lowering to kiss you. You could still taste yourself on his lips and that only made you clench your spongy walls around his cock. That seemed to please him, because he rocked his hips harder and faster. "You like it?"

"Oh, God, yes!" You gasped, beads of sweat forming on your forehead as you clawed his back.

"Fuck, I want you to ride me." He gripped your hips tighter and turned you over. You tried your best to get in the new position without letting his cock slip out of you, and when you finally adjusted yourself, it was a whole new challenge. Gravity pulled you down, and his tip brushed your cervix, your eyes squinting at the slight pain. "If it hurts, stop-"

"No!" You cried out, your hands resting on his chest. You bounced up and down, the uncomfortable feeling slowly replaced with pleasure. Connie's hands traced your thighs as you rode him, another wave of heat flushing through your core. His palm met your cunt, thumb circling over your clit. "I can't c-come again!"

"Yes, you can. And you will cream on my cock."

The disgust words worked like magic and you flexed your thighs, bouncing faster, head thrown back, hair cascading down your back. "You're so beautiful, Y/N."

"Connie, I-" The words stopped in your throat, the pressure too much for you to handle.

"You what?"

"I'm- oh, God!"

"Atta girl!" He praised you when he felt your silken walls relaxing and your thighs quaking. The second orgasm was so intense you let yourself fall over his chest, dizzy and tired. You thought he'd give you a break, but Connie wrapped an arm around your back, holding you in place before giving your oversensitive cunt a few more thrusts. "Now you can return the favour."

You mustered up some strength to get up and kneel in front of the bed, between his legs.

"Please don't come in my mouth." You asked him before wrapping your pretty lips around his cock.

"Gotchaah-" Connie choked on his words when he felt himself in your hot mouth. You bobbed your head up and down, cheeks hollowed and eyes on him. You didn't break eye contact when you pulled away and spat on the tip, hand pumping his cock to smear the spit. "Hot." He mumbled before you went back to sucking. You felt the throbbing, tightening your lips around him and picking up the pace. "Y/N-"

It all happened in a flash — Connie yanked your hair and pulled your head back, thick ropes of milky white cum shooting all over your face and neck.

"Eew!" You scrunched your nose, hand under your chin to stop it from dripping down the floor.

"What do you mean ew? That's, like, a billion kids!"

"Actually, a fertile man produces around-"

"Don't start. Do not." He pressed his index finger over your lips. "Let's get you cleaned up."

You woke up sore, especially between your thighs, but damn, was it worth it. Connie wrapped an arm around your waist, mumbling something about how pretty you are, but you assumed he was still sleeping — or still high. The sun shone through the blinds and you squinted, annoyed by the brightness, and so you turned around, watching the way your crush snored peacefully.

"Cute." You smiled and planted a kiss on his forehead, waking him up. "Oh, I'm sorry!"

"Why?" Connie rubbed his eyes. "Waking up to you is a blessing."

You couldn't hide the tinting of your cheeks and the grin on your lips. "I didn't think you were the romantic type."

"There's lots of things-"

"I don't know about you. But I'd like to know those things. If you let me, of course." You bit your lower lip, eyes filled with hope.

"Can I be your boyfriend?" He sat up, his eyes serious.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Okay, so maybe Sasha knew a thing or two when she dared Jean to switch roommates.

You walked into the kitchen after getting ready for the day, with Connie following behind you. Everyone was eating their breakfast, and Jean instantly dashed to you.

"Connie, bro, take me back. Sasha's leaving crumbs all over the bed! I can't sleep like that!"

"I can't, man, I wanna spend the rest of the week with my girlfriend." He sneered and you elbowed him.

"I forgot to mention Jean's overprotecti-"

"Your what? Hands off my sister from another mister, you creep!"

"Creep? You're the one who was sexting someone's sister last night." Sasha chimed in, mouth full of cereal.

"Thanks, Sash." Jean rolled his eyes. "For real, how did this happen?"

"You see, mate, when a man and a woman love each other-"

"Nope. I will not hear this."

#connie springer #connie springer x reader #connie x reader #aot #aot x reader #aot smut #aot x you #aot x y/n #connie springer x you #connie springer x y/n #snk #snk x reader #snk smut #snk x you #snk x y/n #connie x you #connie x y/n

[thr-333]

Just Another Class Trip :)  Part 3

You know getting dragged through a multi billion dollar corporations building to try and avoid your illegitimate father, a normal monday for most I’m sure.

First< Previous >Next

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

It’s official, I hate Adrien

Marinette groans, having been practically dragged out of bed for breakfast. Adrien was wisely backed up as far as he could in the elevator. She yawns, making it loud as possible and looking Adrien right in the eye.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have stayed out so late,” Tikki giggles, hidden in her scarf.

Yeah it turns out that ‘just need to help out one person’ turned into a it is now 3am and I am halfway across the city beating up a gang.

“At least the box was safe,” Marinette whispers back, she had crashed in Adrien's room, no matter how mad Lila would be, or because of it who knows.

And indeed Lila was mad. The second they step foot into the hotel restaurant the entire class turns to stare at them. Crowded around a smug looking Lila with tears rolling down her cheeks. Marinette just turns a sharp left to the coffee. It isn’t until she has downed half a cup and refilled it that she tries to look for her friends.

Chloe looks just as dead as her, so she sits next to her. Let the morning people talk, they were ready to pass out together.

“Kagami?”

“Yep, Adrien?”

“Yep,”

“Morning people,” They both sneer.

“Were you planning on sleeping all morning?” Kagami asks, eating breakfast like a normal person, what a jerk.

“Were you planning on watching me all morning?” Chloe half heartedly retorts.

“You are adorable when you’re sleeping,”

“Fuck you, I’m adorable all the time,”

“Chlo, language, please,” Marinette implores, nursing her giant cup.

“Shut up Dupain-Cheng,” Chloe snaps, face planting back into the table.

“She’s not that cute actually,” Kagami whispers to Adrien, “Wore a face mask she got green all over the bed,”

“I’ll get green all over you,” Chloe mumbles absentmindedly.

"Marinette,"

"Ah the storm is coming,took them long enough" She takes a gulp of burning coffee, "Yes Alya?"

"You cant just say that to a person," Alya tries to explain, as if talking down to a child, "Lila was up all night crying,"

"She probably just put on a recording and went soundly to sleep," Chloe scoffs, sleepily looking up from the table.

"I was with her all night!" Alya turns to Chloe, seething rage coming to the surface.

"Thats some impressive endurance," Marinette mutters, downing more coffee.

"You think she's been practicing?" Chloe smirks.

"This isn't-"

"Make sure she get's plenty of water," Marinette turns away, hoping the conversation would be over.

"Marinette!" Alya looks down at her the way Marinette often looks at her, the look at a dear friend who changed, "Can't you see you're hurting Lila?"

"Can't you see she's hurting me?" She covers that honestly by gulping down more coffee, she has not had enough for this conversation.

"You used to be so nice Marinette," Alya dodges the question, pointing to Chloe and Kagami instead, "Then you started spending time with these two, and, and you changed!"

"Believe what you want Alya," Marinette motions for her friends to stay calm, "But they stand by me when no one else will, especially you,"

"Thats because!- Marinette if you had just gotten to know Lila instead of being jealous this would have never happened," Alya looks down at her sadly, Marinette was sure Paris would have been up in flames somehow if she had ever trusted Lila, "If you just didn't spend time around these bullies everything could be the same, you wouldn't have become a bully too,"

"So what?" She spits bitterly, looking over at the table watching them, Lila looking disgruntled it wasn't an all out fight, "If I got up and joined that table right now, would everything go back to the way it was?"

"... No,"

Marinette’s pocket buzzes in a familiar sequence. Akuma alert.

"Ok then, not much point in arguing about it, I'm going to stay with my friends, the ones I can actually trust," Marinette quickly shuts down Alya's protest, "Now go get Lila some water,"

Alya walks off back to the table, everyone crowding around her. Marinette waits for the door to be clear, she has to leave before Alya finishes or the whole class will be breathing down her neck.

“Forgot something in my room,” Marinette slings on her back pack, “Be back soon,”

She was not back soon, she was not back soon at all. Luckily she should only be three minutes late for the bus-and nope they left, great. She’ll just have to catch up with the tour later.

Well, I had stuff to do anyways

She talks with the receptionist; her assistant should have sent her a prepared motorcycle to the hotel the day before. It’s a quick drive to the location she had selected specifically to be close to the hotel.

She puts on a simple domino mask before entering the building, she didn’t want anyone to leak her identity after all. Walking in she’s glad to see everything is not in disarray.

“MDC,” Her assistant, Liam walks up to her.

Liam was someone she met through Penny. He’s older than her and also acted as her guardian on most of her trips as MDC. He does know her civilian identity, which she trusted him completely to keep. She likes him because-

“Is that mine?” She snatches the cup of coffee as he passes it to her.

“Figured you needed it,” Liam smiles, wincing as she downs the burning liquid, it's fine she has a strong healing factor, “You said your bag was stolen? This should replace it, it’s most of what you had plus more,”

He rolls forward a pre packed suitcase.

“I would die without,” Marinette says in all seriousness, “So what's the damage?”

“No major problems so far, the security we hired is enough to scare away the smaller thugs,” Liam nods to some security personnel guarding each door, “They won't be enough if any super villains try to attack the actual show,”

“Mm, give them instructions on the night of the show they are only allowed to intercept small time, anything bigger they are not allowed to engage,” Marinette studies the room, there's great places to hide, friend or foe, “If they see anything they are simply to report it directly to me,”

“They can’t engage?” Liam looks around, trying to see what she is.

“They won't be able to stop them anyway, and there is no reason for them to die,”

“If you say so,” Liam leads her through the room where lights are being set up and walls are being painted, “So what's the plan if we do get attacked?”

“I’m sure Batman is going to have his eye on any big events,” Marinette approves of the color of the back wall, it looking even better in person, “Besides I’m planning on trying to intercept before any violence,”

“In other words you're going to make my job a lot more stressful,” Liam sighs, making a note or rather on his tablet.

“Not if I can help it,”

“You can’t,” Liam sighs again at her grin, “Didn’t you have a tour with your class today?”

“They left me,” Liam seems equally unsurprised, “But I should probably head for Wayne tower anyway,”

“Don’t get into trouble,”

“I never get into trouble,” Marinette smirks from the door, “Trouble drags me into it kicking and screaming,”

“More like keen and skipping,” Liam closes the door in her face.

Marinette strolls into the Wayne tower an hour late with Starbucks, she sees is her class, being a nuisance arguing with a tour guide.

“You cannot just leave a student alone in Gotham,” The tour guide all but yells at Madame Bustier.

“Marinette is very responsible, she can handle herself,” Madame Bustier more defends herself than Marinette.

“I don’t care how responsible your student is, that won't stop them from getting shot!” This time he does yell, “You need to go back and pray to god she’s alright and hasn't gotten lost for some murder to find!”

Alright time to break the tension

“Hey, what did I miss?” Marinette asks casually, Already sipping at her straw when all eyes turn to her.

“Marinette! How did you get here?” Madame bustier demands.

“I-”

“I think you mean ‘are you alright, I’m so sorry for leaving you behind,” The tour guide glowers, apparently threatening enough that Madame Bustier actually repeats him.

“I’m fine, I borrowed a bike from my friend in Gotham,”

“You don’t have a licence in Gotham,” Lila sneers triumphantly.

Oh look who actually did some research, how much digging did you do when I learnt how to ride a motorcycle

“I didn’t say it was a motorcycle,” That shut’s Lila up, “But yeah it is a motorcycle,

Worth it for that face

“Also I got my licence approved in America before I came,”

So worth that face

Lila opens her mouth, better than the flood gates, when the tour guide interrupts.

“Now that everyone is here,” He sends a smile to Marinette and a glare to Madame Bustier somehow at the same time, she gets the tinglily feeling of  miraculous holder, or maybe its just the caffeine, “We can start, my name is Dick I will be your tour guide today.

They follow Dick through the tour Marinette's group right behind Dick. She scribbled designs and took notes as he talked, asking her own questions. This got her dubbed Dicks favourite, and easy title to gain as the rest of the class lagged behind. Most were listening to Lila, only Max and Alix were straining to hear Dick over the chatter. Marinette would occasionally pick up a mention of the Wayne's and knew it wasn't related to the tour. She'd have to guess Lila was lying about either dating someone or saving their life, or because it's Lila probably both. A gutsy move in the Wayne tower she had to admit. Marinette could tell Dick was listening and would probably have that rumour make it back to the Wayne's themselves. Would the wrath of some of the richest and most powerful people be enough to stop her? not likely.

They split up for lunch at the cafeteria in the building. She saw the coffee machine and was about to make a bee line to it when Kagami pulled her back to eat some 'real food' whatever that is. She makes a break for it after eating the so called 'real food', right before the tour was about to restart. She reaches it as a familiar figure is also waiting.

"Hi Tim," She greets, getting him to actually jump, "You work here?"

"Hi! um-yeah," He looks over to her, "How did you do that?"

"Do what?" She takes the biggest travel cup they have available.

"Sn-nothing," Tim still looks uneasy, then his eyes lock onto the cup, "tired?"

"Was up till three am last night, plus jet lag?" She yawns, "Yeah I'm tired,"

"Then you'll want to put that cup back,"

"Hm why?"

he gets her answer when Tim ducks down, opening a hidden cupboard full of travel cups at least twice the size of her current one,

"Tim I love you," She fills up the giant cup, "You're my favourite person in Gotham as of right now,"

"Not Dick?"

"Eh, his puns are lacklustre," She shrugs, Tim spits out his drink, "You know Dick?"

"Yep, give him a hard time for me!" Tim calls over his shoulder, walking away.

"You got it!" She hurries in the opposite direction, late for the tour once again.

“Did you get another coffee?” Dick asks as they enter the PR department.

“They were serving them at lunch,” Marinette could almost laugh at how quickly he had begun to fret over her during the tour.

“I know, that was my brothers idea, or rather demand,” Dick sighs, someone else approaching the group to direct the tour.

“Your brother works here?”

“Sure does,”

“But you don’t”

This makes Dick pause, looking down at her as she sips at the coffee.

“What?”

“I mean you don’t work this job at least,” She shrugs, it wasn't hard to figure out.

“Why's that?”

“You seem uncomfortable, your charismatic but still lack the smoothness of a rehearsed tour, plus you seem offended that they are in the back chatting,” Marinette nods towards Lila and her posse, “Regular tour guides would be used to that,”

“You found me out,” Dick chuckles, “I’m just taking over for today,”

“Well I think you picked a bad class to do that for,” She looks over at most her class ignoring the speaker trying to get their attention.

“I think I picked the right one,” Dick says cryptically, then walks off to help herd the class.

“Alright you have to give me the recipe,” Marinette overhears from a nearby desk.

Someone is sitting on it eating a cookie, while the other taps away at her computer.

“Sorry no can do,” She shrugs, “I don’t know it,”

“How can you not know it, you baked them right?” He asks, trying to steal another one and getting his hand slapped away.

“Nope, new vigilante came in, beat up someone robbing my house and baked me cookies,”

“This is Gotham so I believe the first two,” He looks between her and the container, “But cookies?”

“They also gave me free therapy,” She shrugs, before tapping on the container,“And do you really believe I could make these?”

“Touche,” He smirks leaning back on the desk, “So who’s the new guy? With the Batclan?”

“No they said they were just passing through,” She doesn't look up from her computer, focusing intently on the screen, “Names Starling,”

“Never heard of them,”

“Neither, and I tried looking them up,” She sighs, pushing back from the computer in defeat, “Found someone, but it’s not them, actually couldn't find anything on them,”

“Weird,” He gets up from the desk, “Can’t imagine Batman is going to take kindly to a new vigilante running around,”

“Unless he adopts them,”

“That… yeah he probably will,”

"Oh no-CLAIRE" The speaker trying to wrangle her class stops, "We have a problem!"

"Sorry to cut this short," Claire doesn't look sorry at all, "Seems we have important matters to tend to,"

She follows Dick out of the department, ushering her class as she goes. Claire looks over at her like she has two heads, a mixture of impressed and pity, and perhaps a bit of jealously.

They get to go further up the building, to the higher floors. They reach a space that is mostly meeting rooms. He class decide to take advantage of Dick declaring they are completely sound proof, or maybe they took it as a challenge. Marinette is walking past a hall when someone leaning against the wall catches her eye.

“Auntie Selina?!”

They look around, only spotting Marinette seconds before they collide into a hug, she feels the tingling buzz of a true holder.

“Mari!” Selina picks her up and spins her around, no different from when she was five, “Oh, my love it’s so good to see you, when did you arrive in Gotham?”

Marinette watches as her smile morphs into horror.

“Wait, what are you doing in Gotham!?”

“It’s a class trip and- hey where are we going?” Her Auntie grabs her arm pulling her down the hall.

“Marinette!” Dick calls, walking around the corner, Selina makes a sharp turn down another corridor, “Wait!”

Selina is two steps away from running as she pulls Marinette through the maze of hallways.

“Auntie where are we going?”

“Down here,” She opens the door leading to a staircase, too narrow to be a fire exit.

“That’s not really what I was asking,”

Selina inputs a key code, the door swinging open as she is pulled into the room.

“Wait!” She gets pulled through another door just as quick “Was that wall full of weapons?”

“Just a picture sweetie,” She says sweetly, “Down these stairs,”

“Aunt Selina what are we running from?” They are running now, floor after floor.

“We’re not running from anything sweetie,” Selina speeds up, “I just wanted to show you a cool spot in Gotham,”

“Right,” Marinette raises an eyebrow, “I was actually with the class so maybe we could go later?”

“It closes in five minutes,”

“Like you wouldn’t just break in if we were going somewhere,”

“I promise I will take you somewhere nice,” She smiles back at Marinette, they reach the end of the stairs, coming to a garage of sorts, “If you promise to hurry up,”

“Sure-” She does a double take, of the room, “Hold up are those costumes?”

“Collectors stuff, you know,” They are surrounded by bat themed... everything, “Rich people,”

“Right and how do you know this?”

“I-” She hesitates, eyes drifting, “Hey look, the exit!”

They all out sprint towards the exit. Selina reaches out to open the door a second after it swings open.

“Selina,” The man smiles at Selina as she runs into him.

“Hey Bruce,” Selina jumps back, trying to hide Marinette behind her.

“Where are you going?” Bruce looks behind her at Marinette, who gives a little wave.

“Out! Got to hurry!” She grabs Marinette's arm again, trying to pull her around Bruce.

“Is something wrong?” Bruce grabs Selina's shoulders to keep her still and looking at him.

“Nope nothings wrong,” She wriggles out of his grasp, trying again to pull Marinette away.

“Ok then,” Bruce still looks worried but turns to Marinette instead, “Hello I’m Bruce Wayne, Selina finance,”

“YOU’RE HER WHAT!?”

“Snitch,” He Auntie spits out venomously.

“Why didn’t you tell me!?” Marinette asks her with the biggest grin.

“Surprise,” Selina gives half heated jazz hands.

“Wait! Whens the wedding? Do You have a dress? I’ll make one!” She deicides, brining out her sketchbook, drawing different designs, “What's the theme? Never mind tell me on the way to the fabric store, I’ll sketch up some designs,”

“Darling, please-” Selina is now getting pulled along.

“Oh! I’ll call Papa! I’m sure he’ll want to make your cake! We have to hurry, come on lets go!” They're already out the door, Marinette waves turning back to Bruce, “Nice meeting you!”

“What just happened?” Bruce asks Dick as he runs up next to him.

“She kidnapped one of the students on tour,”

“Who is now making her wedding dress,” Bruce nods, not understanding anything

“Did I miss something?”

I think we all did

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

Taglist:

@smolplantmum @flufflepuffle296 @dawnwave16  @caffeinetheory   @g-arya   @Maribat-2k20   @ladybug-182    @Actual-disaster-human    @fusser90   @messrs-weasley   @soap-lady  @paintedhope7   @zeneralla    @mochegato     @random-nerd-3 @clumsy-owl-4178  @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen   @too0bsessedformyowngood @certifiedbidisaster  @Purplegeekypanda @awkward0ghostfan @theymakeupfairies @tikki-marinette @insane-fangirl-of-everything @elmokingkong @inarachi02 @slytherinhquinn @moongoddesskiana @dast218 @buginetye @redscarlet95

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug fic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #miraculous marinette #mlb #ml fic #ml #bio dad bruce wayne #Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020 #bio! dadbrucewaynemonth2020 #b!dbwm2020 #biodad au #Marinette #badass marinette #maribat #marinette is mdc #salt #class salt #Lila salt #lila lies #fluff

[granolabird]

I’ll Always be There For You

Tonights episode was a doozy. BUT!! We got some solid Hournite moments so I’m here with a fic of Beth taking care of Rick after his fight with Artemis, and they have a conversation regarding Rick’s self-sacrifice habits. 

Warnings: Mention of injury. Lots of fluff :)

Post 2x06 so if you’re not there yet in the show, there are spoilers ahead!

Tagging @blackfemmecharacterdependency 

!! If you want to be tagged for next Tuesday’s Hournite fic feel free to ask :)

.

It’s late at the Pit Stop, but neither Beth nor Rick want to go home. Yolanda is long gone, having to comply with the curfew set by her parents, leaving Beth and Rick alone. So here they are, sitting close as they try to comprehend what’s happened. Things had been going so well, and then Eclipso had escaped, killing Issaac, Cindy, and possibly The Shade too. Rick adjusts in his chair with a grimace, his breathing labored as he struggles with the pain of his broken rib.

“Rick! Are you okay?”

Rick forces a smile onto his face as he turns to Beth,

“I’ll be alright, yeah.”

“Are you sure? There’s not much I can do, broken ribs need to heal on their own but I can double check that everything’s okay, if you want?”

“It’s a broken rib, it’ll heal in time. I’ve had one before, I’ll live.��� “You’ve had one before!? Rick, how do you get yourself into these situations?”

“It wasn’t my fault. It was Matt.”

“Oh.”

A moment of silence, and Rick sighs as he sees Beth begin to fidget restlessly. She does that whenever she isn’t sure what to say. He’s pretty sure it’s a habit she’s picked up from him.

“There is something you can help with.” He offers, and Beth immediately perks up, looking his way.

“Really?” “I think there’s a cut on my arm from one of the porcelain shards from my fight with Artemis. Now that the rib pain is starting to settle, my arm is really starting to hurt.” He rolls his left arm as he says it, and Beth gets up immediately, sliding around him to look at his arm.

“Well, roll your sleeve up and I’ll take a look.” She gestures to his injured arm, and he forces back a wince as he rolls up his sleeve. 

“Jeez!” 

“What? Is it that bad?” Rick cranes his head to see his wound, but stops when it sends a jolt of pain through his cracked ribs. “Well it’s not that good. But you’ll live.” Beth provides a small laugh and Rick is glad that she still has the capacity to joke despite everything they’d witnessed tonight.

Beth walks over to the table and begins organising her first aid kit, grabbing cotton balls, rubbing alcohol and bandages and putting them into a neat stack.

“Doesn’t your costume protect you from injury? How did this happen?” She asks, and Rick sighs, rubbing the back of his neck with his good arm.

“The cape protects me. The costume is just as vulnerable as I would be without it on.” He explains and Beth’s head shoots up, her eyes wide.

“Rick!” Her tone is accusatory.

“What?” “You jumped in front of me when Artemis shot at me. If those arrows didn’t hit your cape, they could’ve killed you!”

“It was worth the risk. I couldn’t let anything happen to you. I’d never forgive myself if something happened and I could’ve saved you.” And that’s the honest truth. 

If anything happened to Beth, it would be the end for Rick. He would go off the deep end, let his rage consume him, probably get himself killed doing something stupid. She was the only person he truly trusted, the person who always had his back no matter what. The two of them had a bond like no others on the team, they grounded one another, and kept each other safe and sane. If something were to happen to Beth… Rick can’t even bring himself to think of what he might do to whoever had done it.

“Rick.” He had been so deep in thought that he hadn’t realized Beth had sidled up to him with her medical supplies tucked under her arm. He doesn’t look at her, not sure if his words had been too intimate. This is just like him, to go and say something that ruins a relationship, now things are going to be awkward between him and Beth and-

There’s a soft hand on his cheek, directing him to look at Beth.

“Rick.” She’s got such a deep look of concern on her face and it tugs at his heartstrings to see her so worried for him.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t need to risk yourself for me. I can fend for myself.”

“No, Beth, you can’t. You don’t have strength like me and Yolanda, or a weapon like Court. You have your goggles, and you're brilliant, but on the battlefield I worry that isn’t enough. I worry that it’ll get you hurt one day, and if you get hurt I won’t know what to do with myself.”

Her hand is still resting on his cheek, and as he makes eye contact with her he can see she’s formulating a reply, trying to find words to reassure Rick that she’ll be alright. 

“If I get hurt, then you’ll get me to safety. You always do.”

“Beth, we saw Issac and Cindy die tonight. That could’ve been any of us. I can’t get you to safety if you’re… if you...”

“I could say the same about you.” She shakes her head softly and lifts her hand from his face, kneeling to begin cleaning his arm wound.

“That’s different.” Rick huffs, trying not to jerk his arm away when he feels the sting of rubbing alcohol on his cut.

“Really? How?” Beth asks, giving Rick a side glance.

“I’m me. I can take a lot of hits, and if something happens to me? The world keeps turning. I’m more of a nuisance than anything.”

“Rick!”

“It’s true! I have no potential, I’m not going anywhere with my life. You, on the other hand? Beth, you’re destined for great things. Everyone loves you, and you make everyone’s life better. I make everything worse. That’s just who I am.”

“I am going to give you a stern talking to as soon as I finish bandaging your arm. I just need to focus, give me a moment.” Beth huffs, as she begins to wrap Rick’s arm. 

Rick can’t help but laugh, but his chuckle causes the pain in his ribs to flare, making him stop abruptly with a grunt. 

It’s a while before Beth is done, but as soon as she is she gets up, face determined, and pulls her chair in front of Rick. Then she sits so her knees are touching his, and frowns at him. Rick can’t help but smile a little. She looks so cute when she’s trying to be angry at him.

“Hey! Don’t smile, this is serious business.”

“Right, sorry, no smiling.” 

He still smiles just a little.

“Rick, we care about you. You know that right? He shrugs awkwardly, looking at the floor. “Yolanda, Court, Pat, Mike, me, we all care about you. You can’t just keep putting yourself in danger for us saying it’s because you don’t matter, because you do matter! You matter to us!” 

A pause, and then she says a little quieter

“You matter to me.”

He looks up at her, and there are tears in her eyes. She’s genuinely concerned for him. Rick doesn’t know how to react. In all his life he cannot recall someone being so worried for his safety. His parents were, once, but his memory of them is so faded that he barely considers it real.

“You matter to me too.” It’s an awkward confession, but Beth provides Rick with a smile, and so Rick smiles back. The pair laugh for a while, until Rick’s ribs flare up again and he has to stop. 

“So, do you promise not to recklessly throw yourself into danger anymore?” Beth is back to her stern side, and he sighs.

“Fine. But if you’re in trouble there’s no guarantee.” 

“Rick!”

“Hey, I’m just being honest!”

“I appreciate your honesty, but I don’t want you to put yourself in danger because of me.” Beth pokes his knee indignantly.

“But I will. I’m sorry but I will, You’d do the same for me. It’s just the way we are, I think.” 

Beth throws her head back with a disgruntled huff.

“I hate that you’re right.”

He smiles at her, and when she moves her head back down to look at him he sees that she’s smiling softly too. 

“What are we gonna do with ourselves? We’re a mess.” Beth says with a breathy laugh, as she presses her head into her hands.

“Keep on protecting each other I guess.” That’s the best answer Rick can provide. It’s not perfect, but nothing ever is with him.

“Right.” Beth is looking at him again, and there’s something there. Some sort of tension, and Rick thinks there’s something she wants to say. Whatever it is, Beth leaves it unspoken and pushes her chair back, getting up. 

“Well, now that you’re all taken care of I should probably head home. I don’t want to get back too late.” She brushes herself off awkwardly and then starts to pack up her first aid kit.

“Oh, yeah. I’m staying here for the night, but I can give you a ride home, if you want?” Rick offers.

“Can you even drive with broken ribs?”

“Probably. It’s not that far anyway.”

“Alright, but if it hurts too much I can walk.”

Rick nods in agreement, and takes as deep of a breath as he can before he stands, powering through the pain. Then, he and Beth make their way down the stairs to his car. She hops into the passenger seat, and he slides into the driver seat. It’s quiet as he puts the key into the ignition, neither of them quite sure what to say after the deep conversation they’d just had. As the car begins to move, Beth speaks up.

“Thanks, Rick.”

“For giving you a ride? I always do that, you don’t need to thank me every time.”

“For everything. For saving me, for being there for me, and for giving me a ride. And for every other thing you’ve done to keep me together through everything. Just… thanks.”

“Oh. Uh, you're welcome I guess? It’s nothing you wouldn’t have done for me.”

“You always say that, but that’s not the point. The point is, over the last little while you’ve done so much to help me. And I’m grateful for that. You don’t need to compare yourself to me. Just know that I’m grateful.”

“I… Alright.” Rick taps his fingers on the steering wheel awkwardly as they pull down Beth’s street, and then stop in front of her house. 

There’s another moment of tense silence that is so common between the unsure teens, and then Beth turns and throws herself at Rick, embracing him in a hug. Rick is startled for a moment, and then the pain in his ribs sets in and he lets out a faint

“Ow. My ribs, Beth.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry! I entirely forgot!” She lets go instantly, and she looks him over frantically. 

“It’s okay Beth, I’m fine.” He chuckles, and that eases her worry. 

She still checks him over one last time with her goggles just to be sure, and then unbuckles her seatbelt and opens her door.

“I guess if you’re sure you're ok I should get going... Um... goodnight.”

“Goodnight Beth. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow! And if you start coughing up blood, or the pain gets worse, call an Ambulance! Don’t call me, I am not a medical professional. Do call me afterwards though, so I can make sure you’re okay.”

“Okay Beth. I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

They share one last Smile, before Beth closes the car door and heads to her house, throwing one last look over her shoulder and waving to Rick. Rick gives her a small wave back, before turning around and driving back to the Pit Stop. After tonight, Rick isn’t sure what the two of them are to each other. There was some sort of admittance, he’s not quite sure how to explain it. It wasn’t a grand confession of love, but it was something. Something has changed between them, and all Rick can do is grip his steering wheel and hope it'll all turn out alright. Somewhere deep inside, beyond his shattered ribs, he knows it’ll turn out alright.

#They juct care eachother so much #Teenage superheroes in LOVE #Wholesome I know #Hournite #Stargirl #Stargirl Spoilers #Beth Chapel #dr. mid nite #Rick Tyler #Hourman #beth x rick #stargirl cw