#because it's not like he likes you or anything.............. gross.. cooties .... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iwaasfairy · 2 years

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┌─ “ „ FIXED

tw. cest, bit of degradation but mainly praise, spit, oral fixation, oral, choking, its kinda soft pffff so tw feelings, corruption, hajime gets off on the guilt wordcount. 4.2k

a/n. who's surprised about more cest? exactly no one ♡♡♡ but i missed hajime nii, besides i haven't written nearly enough full length big bro iwa fics FIXED /fikst/ 1. predetermined and not subject to or able to be changed. (adj.) 2. mend or repair. (verb)

iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader

You never really knew that much about boys growing up. That’s just how it went. Hajime started playing volleyball before you were old enough to remember different. Your life was constructed around it. Every practice for him meant no free babysit for your parents, so you were dragged with mom to dance class with other moms. And they brought their equally clueless baby girls, which led to you enrolling in girls related things with girls who related.

You wouldn’t have known about boy’s things, apart from the small circle of cultivated friends Hajime allowed into his space, and yours. It wasn’t on purpose, but the outcome was still the same.

Any and all information you had about boys came straight from Hajime’s mouth, who was older. Compared to clueless you; niichan held the wisdom of a sage. You always clung to his every word, even as he grew bigger. Even as he grew more snappy, sick of dealing with his friends who were stupid boys and did stupid high school boy things. Everything you didn’t know went through niichan. Not ever the other boy spending too much time in your house, because Oikawa was a liar, and niichan would make sure you remembered it.

But you knew certain things too when you saw them, and what small amount you did know— was now rearing it’s ugly head and asking questions.

“Wh—what’s this? What are you watching?” As you shuffle out of the hall with a frown, you hold niichan’s phone away from your body with loose fingertips. Boys might not have cooties anymore in your mind, but everyone talks about how gross boys are. You don’t want to risk it. And Hajime freezes in place like he’s guilty, wide-eyed. It’s brand new. Unusual. Like hitting bullseye on the first throw, tickling your brain from within.

See, Hajime was always bigger than most in your town, athletically built, and prone to using that build full of energy and power to his advantage. That to say, he was always quicker than most to squish you into silence or grab you by the collar instead of using his words when it came to accusations. Your parents weren't around much to scold him for it. It’s what his popular best friend loved to call ‘anger issues’, wait for it to blow up.

And silent, thinly veiled panic isn’t — that.

“Why the hell are you on my phone?” Hajime’s face blanks as he puts down the remote, glances over his shoulder for supervision, and puts on his meanest glare as he scrambles up from the couch. He’d been left on little sister duty all afternoon, and now, you’d gone and made a critical error. Your friends joke about no-goes, but you never really got why ‘messing around on a boy’s phone’ was an issue.

Hajime nii clearly doesn’t agree. His biceps bulge as he crosses his arms over his chest with mouth set in a thin line, and you shuffle in place within arms’ reach of him.

“I’m not on your phone, I just found it like this on your bed.” It’s the truth, you hadn’t meant to find anything. Intent doesn’t matter to your big brother though, because he towers you as he does. It’s the best way you can describe the way he glares you down ice cold, close enough to make your skin break out in goosebumps, waiting for retaliation. If you were any of his guy friends, you’re sure they’d get a solid kick to the shin. The little sister treatment is more mean mugging you until you fidget. “I wasn’t even snooping, I just needed to get a charger,” you tack on, swinging your arms behind your back.

“Give it.”

“No,” you quip back, for no particular reason other than to win the back and forth that always starts like this.

“Give me my phone, before I choose to take it.” His hand sticks out, bigger than yours, and you lean back a little. Usually it’s just empty threats. But sometimes you pick the wrong day to argue back, until you end screaming like a banshee under him like it’s life or death. Niichan’s still young enough where it makes him feel strong not to hold back.

The second ‘no’ sticks in your throat as he leans into your space more, and you can basically taste the natural instinct to roll over before he gets there. But you can’t help yourself. You want answers. You don’t deliver the device as quickly as he wants you to. A single eyebrow raises -an I dare you- deciding whether or not to smack you over the head for your transgression.

And you should know better, but the younger sibling in you aches. You suck your bottom lip. “Why are you watching this?” you grimace as you look at the phone again, unlocking it to reveal the video of a naked girl suckling on what the deadly annoying, high-pitched whine of ‘step brother’ loud through the little phone speaker says is her brother’s… parts. It doesn’t look like anything you’ve ever seen, from the few seconds you watched. But niichan always gets into the bath before you, and you don’t peek. Ever. But judging by the groaning and moaning from the guy, it must be-

Hajime goes bright red in his face as he yanks the phone out of your hands. “Don’t play it, are you fucking stupid?” Your father is still just as busy in his office as he’s been all day, but the way he panics to turn it off would almost make you think differently.

“It’s porn, isn’t it? You’re watching porn.” You’ve heard your friends talk about porn enough to know what it is. You just don’t know why he’s watching it. “Why?”

After clicking out of the tab, your big brother makes a face that’s equal parts fed up, and embarrassed, but he doesn’t give you any of the answers you’re looking for. “Shittykawa sent me that, ’s nothing. Just- fuck, don’t touch my shit again. Or I’ll knock the sense into you, y’hear?”

“But why watch it?”

“You’re dumber than you look if you think I’ll talk to you about-” The last word isn’t even spoken, but it feels like it’s heard just as loud. Your brother watches porn. There’s a pit in your stomach. Because your brother isn’t a liar, but he also isn’t a gossip. And he doesn’t offer up important information until you ask, which always ends with you feeling left out. Late. The overly girly pout of the woman moaning rings in your mind over and over. You’ve never done that stuff to your brother. Instead of helping you out, he hoards info. It makes the hairs on your neck stand up, and you don’t know why.

When he goes to brush past you, you wrap your arms around his waist and cling to him, face to stomach as he tries to walk away. “I’m not done,” you drag out the word, “niichan, stahp-uh. St-aw-aww! You’re hurting me!” You’re really to blame for the way you struggle to hold him in place, and he isn’t one to just fold without a fight. “Niisan~ tell me why! Come on, don’t be annoying. Ughh— don- you’re annoying!” Hajime nii doesn’t just give in. You know that as well as he does.

“Get off!!” His hand is big and warm as it wraps around your neck and he shoves his thigh between your legs, lifted off the floor. You cling on, squeezing hard as he huffs and you use your whole body to try and keep him in place. “Let go of me, brat, fuckin’-uhg- you’re—” You manage to fall back halfway into the couch with Hajime’s weight on top of you in the struggle and bite it, butt landing hard on the floor as he knees you in the shoulder and protects your face just in time. “Idiot, you wanna break your nose over this shit?”

“Why are you looking at that stuff, tell me!” you demand again, through welling up tears this time. “I want to know, or else- Else I’ll ask Oikawa.” He moves just enough to cradle your face and watch you for a second, then blows out a deep breath.

“No, you don’t.” His eyes zero in on yours, and his eyebrows flatten out a little. “You’ve made your point, just stop making a scene.” After running a hand through his spiky tufts of hair, he clicks his tongue. “If I tell you, will you shut up about it?”

Your head bobs up and down quickly, always ready to indulge your brother. “Of course! Promise.” Your voice is extra sweet when you say it.

In turn, Hajime sits back down to make some room for your shoulder as you sink down against the furniture, and look up at him. “Get up from the floor, c’mon-”

“Hajime nii~,” you bristle, crossing your arms over your chest, “just say it.”

You can basically see him think about rolling his eyes, but he fights the urge to instead let out a noncommittal huff, and pats his thigh. “Suit yourself.” You swallow down a sniffle, and rest your head onto the couch. And your niichan’s eyes flick to you again, hesitating. “What d’you want me to- I- If you wanna know why I watched it, it’s- because it feels good. I like it.” Your face must give away your confusion, because he glances over his shoulder again before patting your head and running his fingers through your hair in nerves. “And it is easier for guys to… come if we watch stuff.”

“Like it?” Your lashes tickle against the fabric as you look up at him, not yet satisfied. He’s not getting away with a measly little explanation like that. “But what was the girl doing?” Niichan’s chest rumbles softly with the deep breath he takes, pulling his fingers down to squeeze the bridge of your nose instead, like it’ll shut you up. But it doesn’t, only makes you whine and push at the hand. When he speaks again, his voice is very soft, almost too much so. It makes you giddy. It warms your blood. You love when Hajime nii tells you secrets, or things you’re not supposed to know.

The low mumble reaches. “Sucking his dick.”

Sucking it. You pop your lips, and watch as he starts bouncing his leg next to your head. But the lady in the video wasn’t just sucking. You’re not sure how to word it, so just pout for a moment. It’s not like you mean to push it too far. Evidently, you do though. “Can I do that to you, niichan?”

It nails the coffin closed, because he suddenly stands up and narrows his eyes, as heat comes up all the way to his ears. “Oh my god, don’t make it sound fucked up. I’m—”

"What, what, what?" you pout, and cling to him.

"Shut. Your. Trap. Dad's gonna hear." He takes your cheeks between his index finger and thumb, and makes you really look into his eyes. “Don’t ask anyone else that. Ever, okay? I’m not- talking about this with you right now.”

The conversation sated you back then, it seems. Because it doesn’t come up again until you’ve totally forgotten about it, much, much later. Late enough for you to be awoken from your sleep with an involuntary yawn. Hajime’s apartment is still pitch black, but you’re not unaware of the shape next to you as it slips into the covers with careful motions. Your chest rises and falls shallowly, before you nose pushes into his chest and he settles. “Sorry.”

“M’n -rom d’airport, miss you,” you slur, and also curl up further into Hajime’s heat, who doesn’t bother to try and understand you. You’re not even sure yourself. Only that you don’t want him to move, and that the gentle soothing motion of his heavy hand on your hip is nice. “Hm?”

“You’re taking up my side,” his voice rattles your skull with how deep and low it feels this close to your brain.

“‘M not leaving, you’re warm. Wanna stay here. Forever.” It’s enough to have him give in, slide an arm under your side and drape you up a little higher onto his pillow to really slide in nice and close next to you. Chest to chest, and your face to his collar. It isn’t the first time you’ve cuddled, or felt his thighs force some room between your legs to slide one of his between.

But it’s weird. You can still feel his eyes on your face, magnetic in the twilight. They trail paths all over, suffocatingly so. When you open your eyes as much as the call of sleep will allow, your lashes almost brush his nose, and it tickles, and your big brother’s breath dusts over your cheeks. “Wanna get more sleep before I have to go back home.” You justify, but Hajime doesn’t nod, doesn’t disagree either. He just looks, too close to your face. Your sleepiness doesn’t matter so much when your heart patters against your ribs. It’s just - like ice sliding down your spine, you can feel how your stomach turns inside you, and how hot the air feels. Why is it weird?

You’re older now. You know better now. There’s a whisper, a soft “niichan,” anything to break the tension. It is breathier than you mean it to come out. You just want to know if he feels nauseous too, sensing the same feeling of hell pressing down on your chest as the room seems to come closer. He seems to come closer too. He’s always so bright, so present in your mind. Whether you’re halfway across the world or kept

in his arms. And then pillowy lips connect with yours, nose brushing along your matching one, and your lips are pushed open by a wet, warm tongue. A hot flash travels down your throat as you try not to skitter away at the feeling. It takes a few seconds for your brain to catch up. Why is it different? Why? Why’s your belly burning with a strange sort of pressure? Tonight’s the last night you’ll be spending in Hajime’s apartment for a while, maybe.

His tongue slides into your mouth and tangles with yours, tasting of watermelon and mint mouthwash, and his heart beats slower against your chest. He’s just so close, and you feel like you’re drifting off into dreamland with how warm you feel melting into him. “M-nii -chan,” your voice comes, and a hand grabs your cheek to pull your face closer to his. You’re instantly reminded… of that high pitched moan of that girl on that video.

“Shh, ‘s okay. I’ve got you,” he noses along your jaw, before pressing a lingering kiss right in the middle of your bobbing throat. You don’t expect him to sit up. You don’t expect him to slide his arm under your knees and move you sideways, and to come back to your face for more warm, sloppy, wrong kisses. “I love you. I love you.” This is… wrong, isn’t it? It’s incest, and wrong. The word that haunted you ever since you learned it’s meaning. He groans your name in the quiet, and you automatically reply with a soft moan. Can’t help it. The kissing turns into deeper, needier, panting and spit on your bottom lip before he slides the calloused tips of his fingers over the exposed sliver of your tummy and up.

Hooking your flimsy cotton onto his fingers and pulling at it until he reaches the swell of your tits, but not revealing anything yet. You shake, and your legs spread apart. There’s a pressure on your bladder, on the lowest part of your belly, where heat collects itself and drips out of you into your panties— and it should be more embarrassing than it is. But your pout is kissed by your devoted, all-knowing big brother, and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

“Let me- wanna show you somethin’ now.” His breathing against you feels like heaven, sweetening your blood until you can barely think straight over the smacking mouths and dripping of spit and your cunt and the swirling fire in your loins. “You’re so fucking- pretty.” His chest rubs against your tits, and his fingers pinch the skin where your breasts blush with heat, squeezing with a low rumble of his voice. He wants to say something, but doesn’t get the words out, clearly, as he shuts himself up in your lips, then your throat, down to your tits. Your pussy’s glowing, and your mind foggy- something you can’t pinpoint to either sleep or the moment, and is most likely both combined.

Hajime nii’s boxers are barely clinging onto his thighs with the way it’s tented around his cock when he pulls back, taking a long look just like you are. He’s hot, physically burning under your eyes. But also… filled out so much. He was always broad, but now it’s just distracting. Carved from marble and dusted with gold. It’s childish, petulant even, how you take in the sight and moan with your hands pawing at his shirt, but so fucking true. You’re overcome with it, with love for him.

And niichan seems similarly affected as you are, because there’s a furrow between his brows that only relaxes when he stares at your blushy, spit-covered lips, your heaving chest, the sticky patch of your panties as you’re laid spread on his bed.

His hand comes to yours, letting you wrap your fingers around his, but he doesn’t move beyond that. Only breathes deeply, and stares at the way you tangle your fingers between his. “Niichan, please,” you whine, pulling, tugging, demanding him into motion until he places his free hand onto his chubbed cock and squeezes himself through the fabric. The wet patch of his gray boxers clings uncomfortably to his cockhead, and you suck your lip between your teeth. “Show me, niichan. I wa- wan’ you to, please.”

You’re the one sitting up first, grabbing a handful of your own tits to whimper as his fist stays screwed around his cock— and have to lean yourself all the way down to nose at the inside of his thigh before he finally moves again. “Oh- fuck.” His hips jerk as he rubs himself against your cheek once, and when you moan, again. Large hands and long fingers splay out over your head to keep you in place as gently as he can manage as you let your spit-slick tongue rub against him as he fucks into the air and you chase. You only manage a little glance up between your lashes at his heavy petting and desperate few pumps against the softness of your mouth, but it’s plenty.

Plenty to see the blown out pupils and bead of sweat rolling down his neck, his ears and cheeks a dusty pink. Your big brother groans when you brush your thumb over the sticky patch of the fabric and wrap a ring of fingers around him, forcing the covered head to pop into your soft mouth with a loud kissy noise. “I- Fucking hell, get o- oh,” he doesn’t let you stay latched on, tangling his fingers in your hair and holding you away as he shudders, “you wan’it? That makes you feel good, does it?” The pull of your hair feels good though, pussy clenching around nothing again.

“Mhm, being under my big brudder makes me feel good.” You can’t keep yourself from nuzzling into his hand when he releases you to get up onto his knees, and watch as he shoves the boxers down his thick thighs with slower motions than you wish he’d use. It’s a little unfair. Even in the low light, you can see the glossiness of his cockhead, the little trail of hair leading you all the way down to right between muscular legs- and your nails drag down the skin with a needy whine until he rests the heavy tip back onto your lips. Onto your squirming, little tongue.

Hajime’s breathing comes to a halt as you lick up the slit and glance up at him, and move your hand to reach under his cock too. “Mh-niichan? You wanted this, right? for how long?”

His eyes go half lidded as he hums. “Long.”

Another long lick sliding down, your spit coats the bottom of his twitching cock until you’re happily nestled at the base and press kisses down. “Is that why you only watch sister porn?”

He groans your name with a tight grunt, and you can see the way his chest caves. You guess it doesn’t really matter. Worse sins have been committed just tonight than your big brother fondling you in his bed, and pressing you down on his lap. But the way it flushes his neck and makes his eyes narrow is so satisfying, you almost don’t know what to do with yourself when he pushes you away from him to roll you onto your back, long fingers finding your neck. The press scares you for a split second, before the pressure makes way for entirely too much pleasure. “Still a fucking brat.” His olive irises flash as he watches you drop open your mouth again, and pull at his shirt with a moan.

“Take this off~ niichan, please. Please.” His shirt is discarded somewhere next to the bed, before he allows you to place your lips back to the thumping, blood-filled head of his cock and wrap them around it. It feels good, really good— and he tastes like Hajime, slowly starting to rock onto your tongue as his hand tightens in your hair.

“Wan- uhuh, fuck, I want to cum down your throat so bad. Use-m- my little sister’s mouth.” He’s heavy, and thick, and spit gets everywhere as you do your very best to hollow your cheeks around his hard cock each time he pushes a little farther in. But of course you gag when he pushes past your tongue into your tight throat, and grunts out your name. He pulls back to let you take a breath but fucks right back into you, now rocking his hips harder and deeper. You gag, and Hajime hums. “Tch, messy little sister. Good, tho- feels so good-” Your fingers squeeze around the part where you can’t quite reach, other hand on his balls, while spit goes everywhere.

“Fuck, I’m fucking my sister’s mouth, this is- so fucked.” You suck harder, and Hajime’s cock twitches in your mouth. “Uh- love— you, uhuh, that’s a good girl.” Your lips are stretched wide, and your throat burns around the intrusion, but the feeling just makes you so lightheaded. Floating off from the world as he cups your face with two hands and jackhammers into your mouth until you can’t tell up from down. Your muffled, sloppy ‘niichan, niichan’ only makes his shoulders raise higher, abs flexed each time he makes you bottom out around him, each time tears run down your face. Even when you gag and push back against him. “You love your big brother too, right?”

“Mhm,” you’re choking on it and enjoying it, breath flooding your lungs each time he pulls back far enough to let you— before you have to grab his thigh and open your teary eyes to glance up at him. “Niichan, Hajime nii, p-please. Want your cock, i-inside, want to be my big brother’s cockslut, plea~se.”

He hauls you up from him by your shoulders, rolls you onto your back as he stares into your eyes. Pupils blown wide, with the pretty sliver of green, he bites his lip so hard it must hurt. “Why— you keep saying shit like that, thinking I’m not going to react? Stop poking.” His long fingers glide from your shoulder up to your neck again, and squeeze just enough to have you seeing little stars that vanish when you look at them. It feels good. Hajime feels so good. With the light of the moon dusting along his edges, you slowly spread your legs on both sides of his body, and blink.

“Mean it. Mn-gh, nii~chan. Want your cock to fill me up, I wan’it so bad. Want you.” He looks rabid as he dips down to shove a thumb between your lips for you to suck, lingering in that heady feeling. More. You moan it around his finger as he pushes on your tongue, but he’s already distracted with the way you’re peeling your own panties down your legs, and how the stings of slick stretch from the fabric all the way to your gushing cunt. “Pl-uh-ese, nii-dan.” Your lewd sucking of his finger and the way you pull your lower legs around his glutes seems to be too much for him.

“Love ya, Hajime niichan.”

You feel his lips crash to yours before his cock is shoved into you, but it’s the latter that instantly has your arms wrap around his muscular back to cling on. Because he’s thick, heavy, and burning hot inside you. Wetness clicks and squelches as he slides all the way in and swallows up your moan. He pulls out, and slams back in hard enough to make your legs jerk. You feel him in your belly. You feel him in your throat. You feel him in your soul too, as he sucks your tongue and cups your cheek and palms your tits all at once. As he pulls out and hits a spot inside you you didn’t even know about, and fucks you so good it makes your toes curl.

“‘S our secret, okay?” he pants when he pulls back, lifting your legs to your chest. And you’re already nodding your head up and down before he has to ask more, letting out the shakiest whimper.

Your voice is extra sweet when you hum. “Of course. Promise~.”

#iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi x reader #iwa smut #iwa x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #hq smut #iwaizumi hajime #hq x reader #tw.incest #tw.choking #tw.degradation #tw.dark content #🍯honey.pot #💫ch.iwaizumi

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raineandsky · 11 months

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The Villain's Housekeeper

#73.2 (part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8) (part 9) (part 10) (part 11)

“It’s looking a little dusty on the mantelpiece,” the villain comments brightly from the comfort of the sofa.

The hero huffs in annoyance but ambles over to the fireplace anyway, waving a feather duster over the surface.

It’s been a week since the villain found the hero hiding out in their pantry—and not to worry, the villain made them clean up all the blood in the kitchen once the police were lost to the city. “It’s my blood,” the hero had pointed out in a desperate attempt to stir sympathy. “I’m hurt.”

“Gross,” the villain had replied with exactly zero sympathy stirred. “Be a darling and disinfect it before I get hero cooties.”

The hero has also been unfortunate enough to discover exactly what the villain expects of a so-called maid. The villain’s getting a wonderful view of those world-famous heroic legs from here, the dainty maid’s dress riding up dangerously as the hero reaches up for the mantlepiece.

They’re also getting a fascinating look at the haphazard bandage on the hero’s arm, deep crimson soaking through the pristine white.

“[Superhero] already got his hands on you before you appeared in my kitchen?” they ask nonchalantly, and the dusting pauses momentarily.

“A bit,” the hero says unhelpfully. The superhero got them a bit? “I got away before he did any real damage, thankfully.”

“What’d you do then?”

The dusting starts again, though it seems more like an idle animation—thoughtless. Not really doing anything. “Something bad.” Also unhelpful. “I– I shared things with people I shouldn’t have.”

“Ooh, how juicy.” The villain chuckles, adjusting themself on the sofa to look at the windowsill behind them. “There’s dust on my vase, by the way.”

The hero glides across the room like some domestic ghost, all worried frowns and mindless motions. They pick the vase up and carefully brush over it with their duster.

The hero hasn’t really felt like sharing much, no matter how much the villain presses for some gossip. It’s only a matter of time before the villain inevitably dangles the hero’s stay here over them in a bid for information.

“Make me a coffee, would you?” The villain’s voice isn’t demanding, but the lack of pleasantries still makes the hero frown in annoyance. Would it kill them to say please?

They do it though, because they have to, in the way the villain’s demanded they do. Almost black, a sugar and the tiniest bit of milk. They’re not sure what the literal thimble of milk adds besides making it a quarter of a shade lighter, but they’ve never brought it up.

“It’s 11pm,” they comment when they appear in the villain’s bedroom doorway. They’re in the midst of preening in the mirror, smoothing over their coat.

“And I have a busy night ahead of me.” They take the cup from the hero with the faintest of smiles. “I’ll be out until early morning. Hold down the fort, and remember what I said.”

The hero can’t help but scowl. “Obviously.”

“What did I say, [Hero]?”

“No snooping.”

The villain positively beams. “Very good,” is all they give that as they turn for the door, forcing the hero to sidestep for them. “I don’t have much for you to do whilst I’m gone. Arrange the bookshelf, maybe? I don’t know.” They pause on the top stair. “Remember to get eight hours of sleep though, darling. You can’t work well when you’re tired.”

The hero nods shortly and then the villain’s on their way, traipsing down the stairs and casually slamming the front door.

Finally.

The hero darts back to the villain’s bedroom, taking some clothes from their wardrobe and shoving them on—they deserve to give back a little for how they’ve been treating the hero recently. Then it’s to the villain’s office.

It’s hard to take in the sheer amount of information at their fingertips from the doorway. There’s a lot of fuel in here—for the agency and the villains alike. It's a goldmine.

The hero hauls the nearest drawer open and starts rummaging, their ear trained on the door downstairs. There’ll be something in here they can hold over the villain. They know it.

(Next part)

#creative writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #heroes and villains #hero x villain #the villains housekeeper #its been a while since i had anything more than a oneshot huh #bada BOOM bada BING we got a two parter incomin lads #maybe even.............. a three parter.......... if yall wanted.........

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more-cardigan-than-woman · 1 year

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The School Trip - Ch 2 - Afternoon.

Summary: So you got the kids to their destination. Good luck being in close quarters with the hot English teacher.

2.5k

Warnings: 18+, swearing, fluff, flirting, annoying teenagers.

Chapter 1

"OOo, miss and sir are sharing a room." Jayda giggles with her friends as they walk past you towards their room down the hall.

"None of you guys wanted to share with me," you shrug, "even though I'm way cool and I've got like, so much rizz. Right Mr Todd."

"So it's their fault you've gotta share with a boy." Jason laughs, clicking the door open to your twin room.

"Exactly."

"You guys are gross." The girls yell before they start whispering to each other, running off down the hall.

"Kids right?" You look away, pushing past Jason and sitting yourself on the bed. Truth be told, the last thing you wanted to do was share a room with the girls. They need their privacy and you do not want to be kept up all night with their antics. You had tried to get you each your own room, but the hotel was small and the school wasn't going to pay for anything nicer than this. It's blind luck that they even had a twin room left, with the kids taking all the family sized ones.

"You didn't exactly tell them no." Jason says throwing your bags on the counter. The room fills with a wired silence as he stares down at you, "why don't we have our own rooms?" He asks, with a smile on his face. His eyes tracing the delicate lines of your legs. He blinks a few times, hoping that you didn't notice.

"You worried I'm gunna give you cooties?"

"I mean, have you got cooties? Because I don't think there's a cure for it."

"Maybe? So what if I do? Its only because there are so many kids, and they are booked out," you change the subject, unsure about where this conversation and the way he's looking at you, "had to divide the kids up and they only had one room left. But you can always go and share with the teens, I'm sure that'd be a hoot. You could learn witchcraft or talk about theoretical physics. Or ya know, the bus is empty."

"Or I can stay here and watch you read?" That does sound appealing. He was watching you on the bus and you had the cutest expression while trying to contain your excitement. It's curious, what makes them so thrilling for you? He wouldn't mind finding out.

"I mean yeah, or you could go for a walk."

"Have you got another book?"

"Excuse me?"

"A spare, something I could read?"

"You- what? Don't you have your own things to read?"

"I know you've got more than one of those slutty.books on your bag. There's no way it's that heavy with clothes."

"Why do you wanna read them? Aren't lit teachers supposed to be snobby and all about the classics."

"Could be a classic one day, everything good started out being controversial."

You shuffle from your bed, slipping down and flipping your suitcase open, "we'll I've only got 3, which do you want?" You pick up the books throwing them on the bed.

"This looks interesting," he says, snatching the one with the large demon on the cover, "what's it about?" He flicks through the pages, his eyes glaring over the words. "Late Night Deal?"

"Yeah, especially."

"Cool."

"Might go grab some sun though, wanna go outside and read?" You throw a dust cover at him. "Whack that over it first."

"I'm sure it's going to be believable that I'm reading," he turns the cover over, "Halliday's fundamental physics."

"Better than them thinking you're reading Late Night Deal. That cover really doesn't leave a lot to the imagination."

With a roll of his eyes, Jason slaps the cover over the book, slipping his phone into his pocket and heading out into the sunshine.

You watch him go, surprised at how easy this is. You had thought the weekend would be weird, that sharing a room with the hot English teacher would be torture. He's always been kind in your limited interactions but with a face like that, you had convinced yourself he'd be full of himself, the classic English teacher snob. But he seems so nice and genuinely takes interest in your less than perfect book taste. The way he smiled at you when you talked on the bus about the trip, like he just wanted to hear you speak. Fuck, why isn't a dick? That's what you were hoping, that he'd be awful and the stupid crush you have on him would die at the surface level.

You take another book, your sunglasses and head down to meet him at the small park just outside of the hotel.

"Ah, I'm going to need some help here." He calls from the other side of the park, your seat on the hotel patio resting just under the cover of the awning while he opted for the full sun seats.

You drop your book, rushing to his side as he tries to grab the sea of papers that's littering the lawn. "Dude's, what is going on?"

"My book exploded and my notes!" Keira calls as she and the other girls try to grab the papers flying around in the wind.

You and Jason rush to help, gathering up all the notes, laughing as you run through the small grassed area. "That ones getting away," you shout as one fly's up near a tree and you both rush towards it.

"Here I've got i-" Jason's cut off as you rush into him, "woah there," he grips your shoulders. You look so cute with sweat on your brow annd your hair fucked by the wind, "I think it's stuck in the tree."

"Get up there and get it then." You suggest taking a step back, trying to keep your eyes from his and the weird tingly feeling it gives you.

"Can't reach," he looks up into the tree with his hand shading his eyes from the sun, "maybe if I lift you up?"

"That- ah.. wouldn't be appropriate. "

"Certainly be less creepy than me lifting one of the kids up."

"Fine," you shrug, defeated, "just don't drop me."

"I wouldn't." He assures you, his hands gripping at your waist as he effortlessly picks you up.

"Bit higher," you stretch your arm out, the paper so close, "nearly there," you lean your foot into his stomach trying to elongate yourself so you can get it, "got it."

You grab the paper and suddenly you're falling, wondering how you even got so high and then the sun's gone and something heavy lands on your stomach.

"Sorry," Jason smiles apologetically, "you got me in the diaphragm. Did you get the paper?"

"Yeah, right here," you cough, the air caught in your lungs from where you fell and not from the way he's looking at you, "we should get up."

"Yeah before-"

"Ooooo!" All the teenagers sing song together before bursting into laughter.

"Too late," you laugh along, pushing him the the chest before displaying the saved piece of paper above your head.

Trying to gather yourself up, you rush over to Keira and away from Mr Todd. Handing them to her with a stern warning to keep a hand on her things.

"Not much time for relaxing now," Jason says, picking up your book from the ground and relaxing back on the bench a few meters from the students. The scent of your perfume still lingering on his button down, he pulls it from his chest, trying to shake the smell from it. He fails miserably as the scent spreads and he tries to hide his face in a book.

"We've still got half an hour before we gotta feed the hoard," you lay down on the opposite bench, your book shielding the sun from your eyes. You hear the girls laughing, pages being turned and you start to finally relax.

"Yo! Young people! Can we all sit down please?" You try to call over the loud laughter that's echoing through the dining hall of the hotel.

The teenagers ignore you, too engrossed in their excited chatter as they try to find somewhere to sit. With a huff you, sit down in your seat, content to wait them out until they quiet down.

"Who wants to come to the state library tomorrow instead of star labs?" They all turn, staring at Jason in shock, "be a great place to learn to be quiet." All the shocked eyes turn to a glare as they each take a seat and lower their chatting.

"Thanks." You say as Jason takes his seat next to you, "they can get a bit too loud sometimes. Like they're worried they Wong be heard over each other and-"

"And it gets louder and louder." He finished for you, "Yeah I know, you should've heard my class after we watched 10 things I hate about you. Swear they'd been possessed by demons or something."

"Oh I love that movie. Is that why they came into my lab and tried to put their fingers in the bunsen burners?"

'Yeah, most likely. They were quite taken with the main characters."

"Me too, I had such a crush on him when I was a teen."

"Oh really? You got a thing for bad boys?"

"Not at all," you shake your head, "but a good boy who looks bad? That's every teenage girl's dream."

"Did you grow out if it?" He leans in, his fingers slipping up the exposed patch of skin on your arm. He catches your eye and when your eyes dart down to his hand on your thigh, then to the teenagers around you he pulls back, clearing his throat, "It's a great way to get them interested in Shakespeare. I've got she's the man ready to go next, I can't wait for them to see it. They're going to lose their minds.

"What's your favourite kind of cheese?" You laugh, your shoulder brushing against his as you rock back on your chair.

"Why miss, are you hitting on me?" He says as he turns to you blocking the kids from you and with how big he is it almost feels like you're alone at the table.

"I-" You reel your blood start to heat up "- it's from the movie, right?" He stares into your eyes.and you feel other parts of you warming up as well "- it's a joke."

"Shame." He leans back into you, his arm resting on the back of your chair, "my favourite cheese is brie. Soft cheeses are melt in your mouth good." He glances down, his eyes following the line of your tongue as you lick your lips, "but you know what."

"What?"

"It's hard to find a good cheese," he sits back slightly, putting some air between you, "they always expire or are too crisp or I can't see them in my fridge. Somehow I always miss seeing the cheese right in front of me."

'Hmm," you cough, trying to regain your composure in front of 30 kids and the man that's starting as you like you're a snack, "deep thoughts on cheese then, cool. Cool. Cool."

The waitstaff start to bring out everyone's meals as you settle yourself and you let out a tiny thank fuck. Readjusting your seat to put a bit more distance between you, unfortunately your leg brushes against Jason's and you feel the sting lighting zap zing up your leg. Shit.

The noise of the kids fills up the room again and you find yourself grateful for all their questions about tomorrow needing something go distract you from the handsome teacher beside you. From the way he keeps trying to subtly look at you and the way your only noticing this because you're doing the same.

The rest of dinner goes by smoothly, he's still very close. His arm occasionally brushing against yours and your knees touching the whole night. But with Mason in front of you, telling you how excited he is for tomorrow you find some peace in his distraction.

"Cute pjs," you remark, pulling back the covers on your bed and setting eyes on the.man walking out of your shared bathroom, "you look like a giant teddy."

"Yeah," he pulls on the brown button up that's trying its best not to pop open, "was kind of last minute. I didn't think it would be appropriate for me to sleep in my sweats, with someone else in the room."

"I really don't care. I'm so tried, we're whatever you want."

"Maybe I want to look like a teddy bear," he moves towards his bed, his body squishing to fit through the tight space, "maybe someone will want to cuddle me."

"Wh-ye-" you cough out, jumping into bed in an attempt to hide your face, "goodnight."

"Good night," he whispers back, slipping into his own bed. He sees you facing away pulling a pillow from under his head he turns to his side, wrapping his arms around it. He hopes he dreams about cuddling you, about being your big teddy bear. If he can't have it in real life, a dream would be sufficient.

Chapter 3

Tags

@ilikw @bubbles-incorrect-yb @megumisbabymama @nutmeg030 @gone-batty-fics @lovelyrissa @igotanidea @parkjammys @princessbl0ss0m @prettyacademia00

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #reader x jason todd #x reader #red hood x reader #reader x red hood #jason todd fanfic #school trip #The school trip.

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dancingintherainwithchifuyu · 2 years

Text

Thinking about baby sano in the new future and everything.

Now she meets Takemichi at a younger age and Mikey knowing what happens to his family. Is gonna make sure their happy.

Early years

Of course Mikey definitely wanted Baby Sano and Raidon to be friends in this future after hearing how loyal the boy remained to his niece, he "accidentally" got the two to meet one day.

Shinichiro still refuses to let his little girl befriend a boy, he tried every trick in the book. From calling boys gross and talking about cooties. But baby Sano is a determined girl and clung to Raiden.

Emma is definitely the aunt who spoils Baby Sano, doing her hair and always ready to give any advice. Steals her niece away for spa nights/weekends, where they just bond and catch up.

Mikey is the worst when it comes to spoiling her, Baby sano can't do anything wrong in his eyes because she's a little angel. Their always spotted holding hands while walking the streets looking for Dorayaki.

I saw a comment somewhere saying Baby sano will have scary dog privileges. Which is definitely true not only has she Toman on her side but also Tenjiku and the Black Dragons.

Let's move on the influence she grows up with now, not only just Kisaki but Koko. She learns tricks and habits from all of them. Koko teaches her how to make money and save money. Kisaki is not only helping her with school but also how to learn information about people.

Izana is competitive with Mikey and both these boys are equally protective. Definitely skipped school to go with Shinichiro to go drop her off the first day at school. Izana takes her around roppongi letting the girl just go try the different food and entertainment.

Poor Shinichiro has to set up schedule for the two boys because their both greedy and hate sharing. So they each have their own day with her and once a week the whole family has a dinner.

Teen years.

I was trying to think which sport she would like since she definitely grew up rough housing and "fighting" her uncles. I'd go with hockey, soccer or volleyball. Not only does her family show up but the gangs too. Baji and Kazutora definitely try to encourage her not be scared to be more rough.

Shinichiro is spotted holding up a banner to cheer her on, Takeomi had tried talking her out of it. While Wakasa is amused with how embarrassing his friend can be at a school event.

It doesn't matter if she does sport or prefer other clubs. She has all the encouragement she needs. Whichever clubs she joins it is always sponsored but certain two, who will wave her off for being worried.

She's definitely at the wedding with the rest of her family, if you thought she was spoiled as a kid. She even more spoiled now, especially with her two devoted uncles. Izana being protective because he cant imagine her ever getting hurt, whenever he goes to help orphanage I just imagine him seeing baby sano in that situation and he has the urge to help.

She sometimes help around her father's shop or else she will be spotted in the pet shop helping the trio. While bullying Baji about his studies.

Since she grew up with Luna and Mana, she still hangs out with the girls. I feel like their all super close especially Mana and Baby Sano.

Shinichiro still doesnt fully trust Raiden, because his little girl should never ever date. But he has accepted the boy in a way because he witnessed Raiden stand up for her etc.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokyorev x yn #tokyorev x you #tokyo revengers x yn #platonic tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers #toman baby sano

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bugeyedfreaks · 9 months

Note

So I was thinking about the whole “misogyny behind the supposed lack of interest in teenage girl Powerpuffs” statement you made and something hit me: the reason why the reboots suck is because they’re trying to squeeze edgy, Cinemasins-style teenage and adult situations and humor out of perpetually five year old girls and it makes me so mad that Craig said that because teenage girls ALREADY think that their lives end once they have boobies or are interested in girly hobbies and it would be so subversive to have a show that continues off of the “GIRLS CAN BE ANYTHING.” message of the original with “TEENAGE GIRLS CAN DO ANYTHING. THEY DON’T HAVE TO BE MEN LITE TO BE HEROES.” but instead, we get like five reboots of various levels of quality, all because he thinks teenage girls have cooties or whatever.

Oh yeah, what I said on this post! I could have given you a short answer like a normal blogger, but here is my long, rambling answer where I basically agree and get a little off track and go more in detail about the suckiness of the reboots/the suckiness of saying the girls aren't special if they're older... behind the cut. 🤣

“Teenage girls ALREADY think that their lives end once they have boobies or are interested in girly hobbies.” It's definitely not an inherent thought by any means, but I totally know what you're saying. Society and culture and the media and the internet push girls into thinking they have to become a certain kind of "mature" by a certain age and it's awful. And to say that the girls wouldn’t be “special” if they were older felt as if it was reinforcing the whole gross notion that women allegedly turn into completely different creatures at puberty and from there on out rapidly lose their worth/usefulness as they get older. To say that the girls wouldn’t or couldn’t be “special” when they grow up… yeah, the wording was pretty yikes.

I guess I should quickly clarify that I prefer Craig doing what he does best, and I'm perfectly fine with the girls continuing to be kindergarteners if the show gets rebooted or continued. And he hasn't been involved with the series since 2008, so he's not responsible for any of the content in the reboots that have already happened. I don’t believe he’s some raging sexist (…well, I hope not) either, it’s just that the way he’s said some of the things he’s said concerning this topic are kinda… ugh. Poorly communicated. It's frustrating sometimes! 😩

I get what Craig was trying to say: having the girls be ass-kicking kindergarteners is a fun and unique premise (true, and I love them that way, it's OG, baby!), and having them be teenagers or adults… well, there are already a lot of ass-kicking superheroines who are teenagers/adults. But that's such a limited view of who the girls really are. Their being kindergarteners isn’t the only thing that makes them unique compared to other superheroes/hero teams. They’re three sisters (essentially triplets) with a creator who acts as their single-parent father figure (so they have a loving and stable family life), and each one of them has distinct personalities and talents. They’re fully fleshed-out characters on their own, but they’re also incomplete if they aren’t together. How many other superheroes or superheroines are like that?

Regarding the comment he made about their “kryptonite,” I definitely think that an interesting setback (and strength!) of theirs– regardless of them being in kindergarten– is that none of the girls have alter egos, so they can never just have “normal” lives. At least Clark Kent and Diana Prince could maybe pretend to be regular people once in a while. Blossom and Bubbles and Buttercup can’t! No matter how old they become, the girls will always have to deal with their “real world” responsibilities in tandem with their “superhero” responsibilities because they don’t have to hide anything about their powers from the world. Other superheroes’ lives would end if their “normal” identity was exposed: theirs wouldn’t. And then again, no matter what unique responsibilities they’d be facing, no matter their stage in life, they’d continue to have to deal with the positives and negatives of that kind of existence, and, like I've discussed on here before, I think there are soooo many stories that could potentially be explored stemming from that. So... like... come on. Not special, my foot! It's not like their adventures would all of a sudden end or could never be just as unique as they've always been!

In the case of making a story with the girls being older, yeah, that doesn’t automatically mean you need to stuff your show with edgy, "adult" humor. You barely even have to change how they talk. They don’t have to talk about sex or comment on the latest pop culture thing to be “mature.” They don’t have to get all serious and gritty to be “mature.” Those are the kinds of things people in Hollywood think maturity is (does a certain someone who's also in Hollywood believe that, too? 👀). The problem is in the writing, in misunderstanding what the show is and who the characters are in the first place, how they deal with life to begin with, and so far it seems that the right storytellers who could tell really cool stories in that sort of setting who do understand all that haven’t come along yet.

Also, a thing that I feel is critical to getting the tone of the girls as characters right is that they exist in a universe that, while it may have exciting action and fighting and carnage, is still a very silly place. The goofiness of that universe comes with a very specific tone that has not been well replicated in these other iterations of the series. The balance of the girls' “normal” and “superhero” lives is always off-kilter (and I’m gonna be controversial… I think the live-action script didn't hit the mark but was a billion times closer to getting that balance than the 2016 reboot), and the type of humor that gets used is way off in tone (PPG humor ≠ twerking/Simpsons humor/lazy pop culture jokes/sex jokes). Plus, that small but critical dose of sincerity in the writing of the original show barely ever feels like it’s present in any of these newer iterations.

...but what do I know, I dunno, do I even get the characters? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ That's just how I feel about it all. Sorry for all these words, haha.

#me to myself after writing all of this: shhhhh grandma let's get you to bed #but yeah gahhhh there could have been better ways of saying what was said fr #serious time

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spicy-apple-pie · 2 years

Text

Capril (aka lesbians lol)

Listen up peeps, I see so much Sunita x April content. But where is my Cassandra x April content??? Like it’s so cute, and don’t get me wrong, so is Sunita x April (sapphics have to stick together), but I just need more them. So here’s some headcanons

They both were crushing hard on each other before they got together, but Cass never experienced romantic attraction like this before. So she’s so confused, and she’s angry that she’s confused. So she ends up acting really weird around April.

They are both so chaotic in the best ways. They’ll be fighting an enemy and Cass will pull this cool move and April would just scream “THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND!!!”

April is more comfortable with PDA. They’ll be watching a movie with the turtles and she’ll just curl up into Cass’s arms. Cass would be really tense and nervous in the beginning. As she gets more comfortable, she becomes a cuddle fiend. (This goes for the turtles too btw. She’s always hanging off of Raph)

Again, in the beginning of the relationship, Cass is very nervous that she’ll mess up and then April will hate her. So she relies on the turtles too heavily. April will text her like “good morning 😊😊” and then Cass will send a screenshot to Donnie freaking out about what she would say.

For example

Cass: *sends screen shot* what do i say?

Donnie: idk, just say good morning back

Cass: okay but should I say like gm or would she think that I don’t care enough to write out the whole thing

Donnie: does it matter?

Cass: and what’s her stance on emojis. Should I use the same ones as her or would she think I’m just copying her

Donnie: I don’t think she’ll care

It was a daily occurrence until Cass texted April back instead of Donnie. The message read “DONNIE HELP ME I KNOW THAT I TOLD YOU I WOULDNT BOTHER YOU ABOUT THIS ANYMORE BUT PLEASE I DON’T WANT HER TO HATE MEEEEEE!!!” April is like “hold up”

The turtles, splinter, and Sunita (and later Casey Jr) had their own group chat before they got together called “dumb lesbians group therapy” where they would talk about stupid stuff April and Cass would do. Like April tripping and falling on her face while walking past Cass training.

Splinter doesn’t contribute much, he just wants to spill the hot tea

And then he gossips with Baron.

When they get together where they post Cass and April being cute. Sunita takes the most pictures because she’s with them at school all day. Donnie and Leo always act disgusted. “Gross cooties” “right in front of my salad?”. Mikey and Raph are really supportive of them and don’t have the heart to make fun of them like Donnie and Leo do.

When Cass has a bad day, she doesn’t even have to say anything to April. Cass just walks up to April and puts her head on the her shoulder. April asks “rough day?” Cassandra groans into her shoulder. “Do you want to cuddle?” “…..yes >:(“

When April is having a bad day, she much rather do something, like go out for pizza or just play some video games. Just quality time with her girlfriend. Cass feels like this isn’t enough and seeks vengeance on those who wronged April.

As they get older and marriage comes up, they almost brake up fighting over who gets Sunita as a bridesmaid.

It’s just one of those stupid fights where you don’t even know why you’re fighting. It’s stops when Donnie asks “when did you guys even get engaged?”

They were never engaged. They weren’t planning a wedding. They were both stressed about one thing or another and they blew up at each other. They communicated with each other and came back stronger.

Casey Jr is really confused when he finds out his mom has a crush on commander O’Neil. They never got together in his reality, there was no time for romance.

But looking back, they were extremely close. He could definitely see a reality where April is his step mom.

The turtles teases all three of them by singing “Stacy’s Mom” at the top of their lungs, replacing Stacy with Casey.

There they be. My babies. I will be back. I will feed Rise Capril nation.

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constant-stateofdenial · 1 year

Text

part of a stranger things fic I've been working on

October 1980

Will was home sick with the flu. He had been for three days at this point. Mike felt pretty lonely without him. He had other friends. Lucas had been his friend for years with the two of them growing up on the same street, and Dustin had joined their group that year after moving to Hawkins. Will was probably his favorite of the group and everyone knew that. He also knew that despite insults being thrown around at Will all the time by boys like Troy and James, a lot of the girls in their grade really liked him, a fact Mike was starting to grow annoyed with.

It was the third day of Will being out with the flu when a girl approached Mike at recess. He didn’t really know who she was. He was pretty sure she was one of the fifth graders, so he wasn’t sure why she was approaching some random fourth grader.

“Hi.” The girl says cheerfully, holding something in her hands.

“Hi?” Mike replies back, unsure.

“You and Will Byers are like besties right?” she asked, clutching a small piece of paper in her hands.

“I guess?” He shrugs, why was she talking to him? Girls never talked to him, and he was fine with that.

“Do you know why he’s been out, I’ve been trying to find him all week, but-” the blonde starts

“He’s sick,” Mike replies, snappily, before turning to walk away. Then, he feels a hand on his shoulder and flinches before turning back around to face this strange girl who was talking to him of all people on this playground about Will. Which would be fine, because he loved talking about Will, if she wasn’t trying to track him down for no good reason.

“Aw, that sucks. Must be pretty bad.”

Mike nods, but doesn’t elaborate on Will’s current sickness. He really didn’t want to talk to this girl. Especially about how his best friend was suffering through the flu right now.

“Can you give this to him, whenever you see him?” She asks, handing him the notecard that was in her hands. “Oh and tell him I said I hope he gets better soon.”

One of the girl’s friends calls for her and she runs off to join them by the swingset. Mike snorts and looks down at the note. In the neatest handwriting a ten year old could produce it had written on it,

Hi Will,

I know you don’t really know me, but I think you’re super cool and cute and funny and smart. And I think it would be really cool for us to hang out sometime, like girlfriend and boyfriend hang out. (You still don’t think girls have cooties do you? We don’t I promise :) ) Also! My birthday is soon and you should totally come to my party :)))) meet me at lunch or recess and I'll give you the details. Also!!!! We should go trick or treating together on Halloween!!

-Sarah M.

P.S. I’m going as Wonder Woman for halloween you should totally get a superman or batman costume then a winky smiley face, A GODDAMN WINKY FACE at the bottom next to a HEART!? GROSS. As if Will would want anything to do with that. They’d already planned their Halloween costumes months ago, anyways, and they were Star Wars themed.

“Hey Mike!” Lucas calls from across the field. Mike whips around, stuffing the note into his pocket. Lucas and Dustin were both standing in front of him now, Dustin still looking at the back of Sarah M.'s blonde head as she was walking away from Mike and back towards her friends. Then, Dustin’s attention snaps to Mike.

“You got a fifth grade girl to talk to you?” He asks in awe. Dustin wanted fifth grade girls to talk to him. Or really just any girl. Mike didn’t really understand the big deal. Dustin wasn’t ever trying to be friends with those girls, so why did he want them to pay attention to him?

“She just wanted me to pass a message on to Will.” Mike shrugs, fiddling with the paper sitting in his front pocket. He wasn’t sure if he’d give it to Will or not, sure it was the responsible thing, but he wasn’t sure Will would even care, or maybe Mike was afraid Will would see it, and being the sweet and kind person he is (which Mike loves about him), agree to go to her stupid party or dress up with her theme for Halloween. His best friend abandoning him and all their other friends was something he didn’t want to happen. Mike decided then that he wouldn’t give Will the note. Plus what if it was a trap just to make fun of him? He couldn’t let that happen.

“What kind of message?” Dustin asks, attempting to reach into Mike’s pocket.

“Just something stupid.” Mike replies snappily before turning away and pushing Dustin’s hand away from him.

“C’mon man, just tell us what she said.” Lucas pushes. “It wasn’t important! She just wanted me to give some dumb note to Will is all.”

“Now we gotta know, come on what does the note say?” Dustin pushes.

“Nothing! It was stupid like I said!” Mike protests. Why couldn’t Dustin and Lucas just back off? Why were they so curious about what some stupid girl had to say to Will? Will didn’t even like being around girls that much.

“If it’s stupid why won’t you just tell us?” Lucas asks.

“Because it’s for Will.”

Before the three could argue over it any more, their teacher shouted at them to get with the class, since recess was over.

The boys quickly ran back over to the class, the note and girl easily forgotten. Sarah mouthed something like ‘thanks for giving it to him’ or something, it was hard to tell, from across the field. Mike awkwardly gives her a thumbs up. He’d take it but if it mysteriously got lost on its way to Will, that wasn’t Mike’s fault! He was a nine year old boy being trusted with a delivery he didn’t want to deliver.

Lucas and Dustin didn’t mention what happened at recess the rest of that day, other than Dustin whining about Will being the only one of the group to get attention from girls, and Mike by proxy because he was Will’s ‘non-threatening best friend’. Which Mike thought was definitely wrong because he was not non-threatening. He could be threatening, hell, he’d gotten into fights with spawn of satan Troy Walsh defending his friends before. He was not non-threatening.

After school Mike bikes over to Will’s house, and maybe he did just so happen to conveniently forget to give him the note while they were reading comics and watching movies while Will tried not to throw up anything that Jonathan had given him (dry toast and gatorade), luckily the entire time Mike was over Will didn’t throw up and according to Joyce, who took Will’s temperature when she got home, his fever had disappeared.

After Mike finally gets home that evening, as he’s getting ready for bed, he remembers the note in his pocket, takes it out, and shoves it into the notebook sitting on his desk. He told himself he’d figure out what to do with it later. After Will was better. Will never received that note.

#byler #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things #fanfic #fanfiction #criticism is welcome btw #this is based off a post I saw a while ago

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mothmanhamlet · 2 years

Text

kiss me!

fandom: It (mainly the 2017/19 movies even though at my heart i am a miniseries believer)

pairing: reddie

word count: 12k

summary:

The thing that spawned inside of his stomach felt like both an explosion and a pit at the same time, the way that a supernova creates a black hole. He felt like there was one of those just underneath his ribcage as he realized two things in rapid succession.

One: he really wanted to kiss Eddie.

Two: he was, under no circumstances, allowed to kiss Eddie.

five times richie almost kisses eddie and one time... something else happens

Its been 10 million years and i finally wrote a fic! read it on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45024529

preview under the cut

5 (age 6)

It was the first day of school and a kid was sitting by himself on the bench next to the swing. Which, obviously, made no sense to Richie.

He was at the top of the slide when he noticed, eyes catching him just before he could push himself down. He was small, even compared to Richie who was already short for his age. He looked tidier than any of the other kids, his bright blue shirt crisp and his khaki shorts unwrinkled. Richie’s mom would have loved him, she was always getting on his case about how dirty his clothes were.

The strangest part was that he wasn’t even crying or anything. Khaki-boy’s face was completely blank, unlike any of the other kids who had sobbed at the disappearance of their parents that morning. He could understand that. If he wasn’t so tough he maybe would have shed a tear himself.

It seemed stupid to Richie, as he sped down the hot metal slide. Why would you choose to be bored? Didn’t he have friends to be playing with?

It then occurred to Richie that he might not have friends to play with.

And, well, he wasn’t going to let that happen. His parents always told him that if a kid looked lonely, he should go up and talk to them and make friends. He hadn’t really ever had to make friends, seeing as his mom was friends with Stan’s mom and Bill came as a package deal with Stan once they started preschool. That was still two more friends than this kid seemed to have, which made him the expert. He figured he could probably wing it.

As confidently as he could, he walked up to the kid. He looked up, face scrunched in suspicion, as Richie approached. He held out his hand for a handshake, the polite way his dad always did.

“Do you want to play dinosaurs with me?”

The kid scoffed at him.

“No.”

Richie was incredibly offended.

“What? Why not?” The kid glared at him.

“Because you’re gross,” the kid explained, like Richie was a dumb two year old, “my mom said that all the other kids had nasty diseases and I should stay away from you.”

This was shocking. Richie had never been so slandered in his whole entire life.

“I am not gross!” Richie protested, folding his arms up, “Maybe all the other kids are, but I’m not! Bill and Stan aren’t gross either!”

“Are too,” the kid countered, “I saw you eating glue earlier.”

And, ok, he did eat glue. But he was a scientist! He had to know what it tasted like! For science! He decided then and there he had to get back at him. He couldn’t let this stand!

“Fine,” Richie said, hatching a devious little device, “you’re right. I do have a bunch of diseases. You know what I have? Cooties. And I am going to give them. All. To. You.”

Richie pointed his finger at the kid to emphasize his point. He looked confused but recoiled all the same.

“What are cooties?” The kid asked, sounding like Richie had just served him a huge plate of broccoli.

“I just told you! It’s a disease!” Richie inched closer to him, crowding him into the bench, “Do you wanna know how you get it?”

The kid looked disgusted, but now a little bit scared. He whipped his arm away from where Richie was almost touching it on the bench. Shakily, he nodded.

“Kissing!” Richie threatened gleefully. A look of utmost horror dawned on the kid’s face.

Richie leaned in and the kid screeched before he could even get close.

#reddie #reddie fic #i genuinely have not written a fic in so long i missed it #happy valentines day to uhhh (checks notes) the gay fuckers from the stephen king clown book?#richie/eddie

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poppy-metal · 3 years

Text

Demure

Wc: 4k

Pairing: eren jaeger x reader

Cw: car sex, fingering, emphasis on reader being innocent and a virgin. reader is armins little sister. corruption kink

you're 6 years old when you first meet eren jaeger. apparently he'd run off some people that were bullying you big brother, armin. you admire him and mikasa immediately.

you're 8 and he's 11 when you get a scrape on your knee from playing tag. eren runs into your mothers bathroom to fish out the first aid-kit, you know he just doesn't want you to tattle, you never would anyway, but he pulls out a pink band-aid with little ariels all over it and places it gently over the cut. he stays there for a few beats, soothing the skin around the hurt area with his thumbs. his big bright green eyes look up at you, "better?" and that's the first time your heart skips for a boy.

you're 11 and he's 14 when armin starts becoming protective. "he's had like. 5 girlfriends in middle school, who knows what he's gonna be like in high-school"

it intrigue you, for some reason.

you're 13 and he's 16 when he taps furiously on your window at night, wild eyed and wearing a t-shirt and sweats. he falls ungracefully on his ass when you let him in, though he grins at you from the floor. "thanks, squirt"

you wince at the nickname, knowing it solidifies you as someone only platonic to him. armins little sister and nothing more. "what's this all about?"

he gets up and swipes imaginary dust off his sweats, looking around your room. its absurdly girly. he picks up one of your plushies and tosses it up, then catches it, peering over at you and grinning. "i hope you never change," he sighs and flops down onto your pink sheets. "girls my age are fucking psychos"

you creep closer to him, snatching your plush back. "im sure there's something you're leaving out there. im not completely dumb, you know"

he waves his hand, "yeah but you're....i don't know? innocent or whatever. you don't care about shit like boys and drama"

i do care about boys, you think, watching the way his shirt rides up to expose a hint of tan skin. you look away, squeezing your plush to your chest. "im gonna grow up eventually, ren"

he sighs and sits up, looking at you from under his ridiculously cute floppy brown hair. "Just promise me you won't go boy crazy"

you roll your eyes and sit down next to him, he leans in and licks a broad stripe against your cheek with his tongue, grinning "we have cooties"

you swat at him and wipe your cheek, groaning and calling him gross. "i know that. you and armin never let me forget how gross boys are", you side eye him. "what did you even do? really?"

he looks to the side, only now having it in him to look the least bit sheepish, "my girlfriend may have caught me with my hand down historias skirt..."

"EREN JAEGER!!!"

yeah, boys really are gross. but not eren, no he's beautiful and magical and makes you feel all the fluttery things. but he's also a player, a bad boy, dangerous and completely off limits. maybe your crush should have ended there, but of course it didn't.

You're 15 when you go on your first date with a boy. until now you haven’t allowed yourself to even think about men outside of the enigma that is eren jaeger, but that’s a lost cause, a stupid crush you need to let go of. and despite what eren thinks, you’re not that innocent. not in your head anyway. you’re a girl and you have fantasies.

the guy is nice, armin likes him enough. big and tall and humble, reiner brought you flowers for your first date. the age difference is a little weird, he’s in erens grade, a senior, but you think its harmless. you’re turning 16 soon. the date goes well, you smile and giggle alot, and reiner seems smitten by the end of it. he even goes as far as to kiss your hand when he drops you back off at home, at 8pm sharp, just like he promised. he was kind and sweet, and you liked him, but you wonder what it means that there were no flutters in your belly, not like when you’re around him…

you’re still thinking about that when you open the door, and walk inside. the house is quiet, and you wonder where armin is, and eren. thinking they both must be in armins room, you go to the kitchen to get a glass of water, stopping on your path there when you see eren on the couch. he’s lounging back, hand idly wrapped around a gaming controller as he watches you.

you glance around him. “where’s mimmin?”

he doesn’t take his eyes off you. “annie called”, he leans forward a little, propping his chin in his palm as he observes you quietly for a moment.

you squirm in place, his eyes are too hot. “oh” and you make to start moving again but his voice stops you.

“so. braun, huh?” his tone is hard to discern, the words coming out cool and detached, but his eyes are that intense green.

“yeah” you say, shifting on your feet. “he was nice. kissed my hand and everything”

“sounds like a dream” and that is definitely said sarcastically. you bristle but eren is already turning away from you, facing the TV. “didn’t think he was your type though”

because erens been your type since forever, you guess he’s right. reiner couldn’t be more different in both personality and looks, but maybe that’s a good thing. “maybe he can be” you say softly, looking at your feet. you dont see erens eyebrows jump, or his lips twist disdainfully.

“If you wanna settle for missionary the rest of your life, then sure, go ahead” he sounds a little miffed and that confuses you. makes you look up. you don’t even know reiner that well, but you feel the need to defend him from erens usual snarky jabs.

“not every guy that doesn’t live on Xbox and fuck half the school is a bland guy” you huff. you feel a little guilty for calling him out but he started it. eren hated preps, that was obvious, but its not like he was a model person either, if his long track record of promiscuity was anything to go by. reiner wasnt boring he just…..wasn’t eren. but that wasn’t a flaw. It shouldn’t be.

“you been keeping tabs on me, princess?” eren asks wryly, smirking now. you just glare at him, quirking a brow and daring him to prove you wrong, to say he’s better.

he doesn’t. he just looks at you, sets his controller down and does that tick he’d developed since he was young of jiggling his knee, tapping his finger on it. “don’t go on more dates with him”

you squint your eyes, “and why not?”

“because i said so”

“you’re not my boss”

“because..” he scratches the stubble on his jaw, gaze looking far off as he stares at his bouncing leg. “guys shouldn't touch you”

your mouth pops open. you get that, right now, you’re too young for stuff like sex, but being touched? everyone your age had boyfriends, why should you be any different?

It feels a bit like deja vu when you tell him, “m’not staying innocent forever. dating and s-sex are apart of life. you do it, why shouldn’t i?”

you didn’t really get his whole overprotective bit, armin, who was your brother, wasn’t even this bad. he’d seen happy almost, when you told him about your date with reiner, even, so you really don’t see where eren is coming from.

erens lip curls in a smirk and he points a finger at you. “that’s why” he says. “you can’t even say the word sex without stuttering. what’ll you do when you see a cock for the first time?”

your skin heats, hating that he’s right. “I’ll grow out of it” you promise him.

he huffs a laugh. “sure thing, dork” but then his face gets serious. “you don’t need to change though. sex is lame, i promise.”

“you seem to have alot of it, so there must be something good about it”

“for me, yeah” he grins. “but im selfish. most men are, and you deserve better than some highschool tumble with a guy who looks like he can’t find the clit to save his life” his eyes weigh you down. “just keep bein’ you. If i come back from college and hear that you’re the towns tramp stamp, m’ not gonna be happy”

and that’s that.

you’re 16 when eren leaves for college. you get to 18 without ever being touched.

you’re 18 and you wish you hadn’t begged armin to let you come to this stupid bomfire party. it’s just the first time he’s been home in the 2 years since he’d left for college, and you know that means eren is back too, though you have yet to see him. he’s supposed to be at the party though.

you wonder if he’ll react to having seen you after not for awhile, if he’ll look at you different now that you’re grown. you’re wearing a simple pleated white skirt and a pink top, the picture of innocence you’ve always been, never changing.

being around so many people makes you uncomfortable, you want to cling to armins side, but you don’t want to be annoying so you tell him its okay to leave you. your eyes scan the mass of people on the crowded beach as you nervously hold your solo cup to your chest.

your eyes stop their nervous skittering when they land on someone familiar.

college eren is completely different and yet wholly the same since you’d last seen him. he’s wearing a red bomber jacket, over a black t-shirt and skinny jeans, scuffed converse kicking in the sand as he shifts from one foot to the other. you peep tan skin, a hint of a tattoo peeking on his neck and….and black hair. he’d dyed his hair, and, is that jewelry on his ear? rings on his hand?

he’s smiling easily with a pretty blonde and...and reiner. talking to them like old friends as he tilts his head back and laughs, taking a swig from his cup. he’s still chuckling and shaking his head when his eyes flick distractedly over, rove over you and then stop. even from all the way where you are the green of his eyes pins you in place. the warm glow of the bonfire dances across his features, and you see the bastard has a lip ring as well. he takes his time cataloging you and you do him, before his lips tilt, he hands off his drink and he makes his way over to you.

your whole body is tense with nerves as he gets closer and closer.

when he’s standing in front of you, the smell of his cologne wafts over you. his smile is small and genuine. “hey, pip”

pip as in short for pipsqueak. you have to fight the urge to grin at him, your cheeks warming pleasantly, even though you groan out loud. “m’ not little anymore”

“I can see that” eren eyes rake over you, linger on your bare legs before dragging slowly back up. his eyes feel like a caress and when they meet yours again, you’re already tingly. you’ve never been touched sexually, and just one look from eren has you wet between the legs like nothing. “still dress like you wanna be an extra in a Bratz commercial”

the tension disputes as you swat his arm. “shut up!! Its a fashion choice, not like you’d know. dressed like a wannabe rockstar”

“aw, c’mon. you’d be my groupie right?”

you roll your eyes. “you wish, jaeger”

“mm” he hums softly. “s’cute though. always has been”

before you can even register the compliment, he’s leaning forward to peek into your cup, swiping it easily from you. “underage drinking, are we? left you for a couple years and you go rebel barbie on me”

you squawk as he chugs all of your drink back in one gulp, crushing the cup in his fist and tossing it behind him. “ren! I wasn’t even drinking it. It was..” you wave your hand around. “for the aesthetic”

“uh huh” he drones, but then he jerks his chin. “i’ll get you another one to stand around and look pretty with then. C’mon”

cute, pretty. the compliments are gonna make your heart fly out of your chest if he doesn’t let up. you follow him as he leads you to a keg, one that’s a little ways away from the bustle of the party, close to the parking lot where you came in.

you shyly say ‘thank you’ when he fills you a cup and hands it to you, proceeding to lean back against a car as he goes back to observing you.

to distract yourself you mumble, “you can’t just lean on a strangers car for the sake of being cool”

the grin is back. “you think im cool?” when you glare at him he rolls his eyes and slaps the hood of the car. “she’s mine, pip. you can untwist your panties”

you blink at him, “since when did you get a new car? and when did you dye your hair?”

he looks at you curiously, drumming his fingers. “do you not, like. follow me on instagram?”

you look away, kicking your feet in the sand. hesitantly you admit, “didn’t wanna miss you, so i didn’t look”

he doesn’t say anything to that. the silence stretches between you, making you nervous. should you not have said that? you guessed it was weird, after all, but it was true. If you’d looked at how erens life was progressing without you there to see it, you’d have cried and been a total lovesick girl about it.

he finally breaks the silence. “do you have a boyfriend?”

you look back at him. “uh...no? do you?”

the smirk you wanted ghosts over his lips again, and your eyes are drawn to his lip ring when he tugs it between his teeth. “nah, you know me. unattainable”

“yeah, i know” you say under your breath, thinking of how eren jaeger had been an unattainable fantasy for you for years.

“so no current boyfriend or…?”

“no boyfriends...ever” its embarrassing to admit, but less humiliating than admitting that the reason that was is because you’re in love with your brothers best friend, the very man standing before you now.

“that’s kinda tragic, pip” eren hops up on the hood of his car and fishes a cigarette out of his pocket. he waves a hand at you, “you’re rockin’ a bod like that and no one’s bagged you? thought you’d be beating down options with a bat by now”

you watch the smoke that plumes in the air, the way it coils and wisps, and really look at eren. he’s tragically beautiful. his no black hair is boyishly messy, tangled around his head in a dark halo. his face is sharp and tan, his eyes striking and making you feel like you’re sinking into the sand beneath your feet.

you’ve wanted him for so long, it makes you ache. years and years of pushing away men and declining confessions for this man in front of you. you’d never expected anything from him, but you couldn’t move past the fantasy in your head. couldn’t imagine giving any of your firsts to anyone but eren.

“you told me to stay innocent” its out before you can stop the words, they just fumble out, spilling from your lips and into the air like the smoke.

eren stills, pauses from where he’d been about to take another drag. his expression is unreadable. he flicks the ashes from the cig on the sand, stumps it out under his foot as he hops down. the wind ruffles his dark hair as he just looks and looks and looks at you.

“yeah?” and oh, jesus, if the rough gravel in his voice doesn’t make your cunt warm immediately. “and you listened?”

you squeeze your thighs together, an action that draws erens gaze between your legs. to late to back down now, you think, and wet your lips. “y-yeah. I did”

“you didn’t let any boys touch you while i was gone?” eren continues and he draws closer, creeping towards you.

you shake your head, silent as he comes in front of you. he reaches up to delicately push a strand of hair behind you ear with one of his ring fingers. he keeps it tucked behind your ear as he towers over you, staring you down. “you’re still my innocent little girl, huh?”

you wonder if this is how it feels to be seduced, seduced by eren jaeger no less. his eyes are warm, and they make you feel warm from where the rest on your eyes, and then, your lips. they part under his gaze, on instinct. “I am, ren. always have been”

his eyes darken, and the finger behind your ear becomes his whole hand sliding to cup the back of your head, slowly fisitng your hair in it. “shit” he tilts your head up. “you can’t say things like that, baby”

baby, baby, baby. your head swims. you’re on autopilot now, speaking without thinking and you think that’s good because if you were thinking clearly you wouldn't have the courage. “i’ve always been your good girl. no one elses”

you have one second to hear his exhale before his lips are crashing against yours, and oh. oh, he’s good. you feel the metal of his lip ring against your bottom lip as he slides his tongue in your mouth, eating you up.

“god, you’re sweet” he nips your lip. “knew you would be”

you pant into his mouth, your hands curling on his chest, “y-you’ve thought about me?”

“‘course i did, im not blind” he pulls away. “I just really like my dick and didn’t want it chopped off. armin is scary”

you know he can be when he wants to be, knows if he saw eren ravishing his little sister against his car right now, body parts would be strewn about. and that’s just from armins verbal warfare.

you look at eren demurely from under your lashes, “i don’t want anything to happen to your…” you trail off at the end.

erens eyebrows climb up his forehead, he presses close to you, tugs you to him. “my…” he prods, eyes glinting with mischief.

you look away, pouting. “know i can’t say it” you mumble, hating that even now, saying vulgar words is embarrassing for you.

erens chest shakes with a laugh. “you just sucked my tongue down your throat, pip, and you can’t talk about my cock? you’re precious, c’mere.” he starts walking backwards, towards his car. “we gotta be sneaky about it but-” he dips down to kiss you again, once, twice. “i really wanna touch you”

you gulp, and nod, let him pull you to his car and open the backseat for you, climbing in after you. he shuts and locks it behind him and then he’s facing you, eren jaeger giving you his full attention. looking at you like he wants you, like he’s seeing you, like he wants to do alot of bad things to you.

you place a shaking hand on his shoulder. “im- i dont know what to do..”

you want to impress him, but pretending you’re good at something you’re not won’t do that. eren doesn’t like liars anyway.

he scoots close to you, pulling you halfway onto his lap until you’re sitting comfortably against him. you bite your lip when you feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against your ass under your skirt. one of his hands settles on your bare thigh, scooting it up just barely.

“you ever watch porn, sweetheart?” erens breath puffs against your ear and you squirm on top of him.

you push down your own embarrassment, resigning yourself to be a big girl and be honest. “s-sometimes”

“yeah?” god, why does just that word turn you on so much? “tell me what kind of stuff you watch when you touch your little pussy”

his vulgar words go straight to your cunt, at the same time his hand slides up your thighs and slips under your skirt. you close your eyes when you feel the tip of his finger trace over the band of your panties. “they’re always a couple..” you gasp when his hand dips inside, palm cupping over your pussy. “a-and the guy has dark hair..”

“Imagining anyone in particular?” eren teases, but you hear his breath catch at the same time yours does when he sinks one long finger inside. the folds around your slit part seamlessly around the intrusion, sucking his finger in like your pussy wants it there. “so wet, baby. keep talking for me?”

ever the good girl, you push through the tingles and the heat spreading down your legs, the slick sound of his finger fucking in and out of you filling the silent car as you struggle to find words. “s-shes always inexperienced. Its her first time and...and hes gentle” you moan a little when erens thumb comes to swirl around your clit, hips lips finding your neck. he’s teasing another finger at your tight entrance when you swallow another groan and try to keep talking like he’d asked. “he’s gentle but he takes. t-takes what he wants”

“mm” eren hums, tongue sliding against your skin. you gasp when the tip of his ring finger edges in beside the other one, stretching your tight passage around his digits in thorough little twists of his fingers. “that’s real good, baby. you like the sound of that, huh?”

eren hooks his chin over your shoulder, bunches your skirt around your waist so he can see where your little pussy is clenching and squeezing around him, clit engorged and throbbing for attention. when you don’t answer, he continues, using the slick dripping down your slit, gathering it and then pushing back into you. “I bet” he says, low, husky. “In those videos, he eats her out real nice, yeah? makes sure her little virgin cunt is wet enough to take his cock”

“y-yeah” you pant, holding his wrist but not pulling it away, pushing him more towards you. you’re starting to grind down against the pleasure, walls rhythmically fluttering around his fingers, fucking yourself on them without even knowing it. he curls them, and your head thumps back against his shoulder as you cry out.

“i’ll give that to you” eren promises, pumping his fingers faster, his other hand coming up to cup one of your tits over your blouse, giving it a squeeze. “gonna take you home after you cream around my fingers and lay you out on your bed” he kisses your cheek, holding you firm against him when you start to twitch and writhe. “lick this little flower open. wanna feel your thighs squeeze my face when i drink the cum from your pussy, get you all loose and wet and then i wanna feel you drip down my dick when i slide it inside”

“oh god, ren!” you jerk in his hold as you feel your orgasm crest over you, gushing down his palm, as you ride his hand, milking it as tingles shoot across your whole body. A milky, creamy film rests around his knuckles when he slides his fingers out of your weeping cunt, still pulsating and twitching from the come down.

he rubs the excess slick around your folds and clit, rubbing it in. you whimper and he chuckles and kisses your cheek.

you sag against him, fucked out. eren brushes some hair from your forehead and kisses it. “wannabe punk pounds sweet virgin pussy into her bed”

you look at him, confused and dazed “huh?”

eren grins at you. “s’ gonna be the name of our porno”

#poppy speaks #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger smut #aot smut #i hate this kinda but oh well #woof #eren jaeger imagine

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harlowsbby · 2 years

Note

urs and jacks wedding day🥺💗

Jack was nervous to say the least he stood in front of everyone with Urban and Clay and a few of his childhood friends behind him waiting to see you his beautiful soon to be wife walking down the aisle.

He smiled at his baby boy and girl as they walked down the aisle throwing some flower peddles your baby boy Ethan making the most noise saying baby gibberish as Stella pulled him along softly she tossed the flowers around as everyone coo’d and aww’d at her she was eating the attention up she was just like Jack.

A few or your bridesmaids made their way down the aisle as well lining up on your side and that’s when you came through the big church doors everyone watched you in awe as you walked down the aisle eyes locked on Jack’s baby blue ones. Everyone squealed quietly at you.

Jack bit his bit looking you up and down you had on this long white and lacy wedding gown that fit you curves perfectly you looked so unreal he thought and your hair faced your face perfectly once in-front of Jack you felt the nerves kicking in because you were officially going to become Mrs. Harlow.

Jack smiled softly taking your hands in his and kissing them making you blush and everyone coo at the both of you.

“Do you Jack Harlow take Y/N to be your wife to told forever and always till death do you both apart ?” The priest said and Jack grinned nodding making you roll your eyes playfully could this man take anything serious.

“I do.” Jack said as you smiled looking at the priest again.

“Do you Y/N take Jack to be your husband till death do you part.” You smiled softly at Jack and looking down at your Ethan and Stella as Ethan chewed on his chunky hand and Stella talking to him sternly about it you laughed looking back up at Jack this was really your life right now.

“I do.” You said softly looking into Jack’s blue ocean eyes as you did.

“You may now kiss the bride.” And with that Jack grabbed your face softly kissing you with so much passion everyone cheered at the both of you but not Stella.

“Eww mommy and daddy kissing that’s gross you’re going to give mommy cooties.” Stella said as Jack laughed pulling away and behind down to pick up Ethan who squealed at his dad making everyone in the room laugh.

“Let’s go shall we Mrs. Harlow ?” Jack said and you grinned nodding and taking his hand and Stella’s hand in the other.

“We shall Mr. Harlow.”

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine

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jakesimfromstatefarm · 4 years

Text

how to fake date your best friend | jake sim

✰ summary: the rules were simple -

pretend to be the boyfriend of you, his best friend who wants the attention of their crush, for a week and a week only

no kissing (bc gross cooties amirite) allowed, unless needed in times of desperate measure

and no matter what, absolutely, most definitely, do not fall in love.

simple, right?

well apparently not. because news flash––jake's already broken one of the rules.

and to give you a hint, it's neither rule 1 or 2.

✰ pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. members of enha!]

✰ genre: fluff, comedy | fakingdating!au, highschool!au, bestfriend!au, friends to lovers

✰ warnings: cursing, high-schoolers doing dumb highschool things, underage drinking (pls don’t actually do any of this irl), jake being a certified simp, it’s LONG (i’m so sorry), cheesy kithes bc im a sucker for kithes ( ˘ ³˘)♥

✰ wc: a whopping 9.5k

✰ a/n: it’s finally finished :’)))))) it ended up being much longer than i wanted but i had so much fun writing the characters that i got carried away lolol anywaysss i hope you guys enjoy it,,,i got a little unmotivated during the process bc i didn’t know if it was good or not but here it is heh (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

Tuesday, December 8th

Jake Sim lives a simple life.

He likes to think he leads the normal, stereotypical life of a teenage boy. Has decent grades, plays soccer after school, skateboards around the neighborhood, has a best friend who he’s desperately in love with, and has a stable group of friends.

Okay, maybe not so simple, because this boy would physically launch himself to the moon and drill at its surface to collect moon dust for you if you asked him to––despite his deadly fear of combusting in outer space.

But that fear doesn’t even compare to his worst one yet: not having you in his life.

And so, he decided to just repress any and all feelings he’s had for you ever since he discovered them in middle school, when he realized he hated seeing you go to the eighth grade dance with a date––that wasn’t him.

He decided that he wasn’t going to risk losing a life-long friendship over some dumb, teenage boy feelings.

They were probably powered by his testosterone anyways. Yeah, that’s totally it.

He’s totally not in love with you.

So yes, he lives a pretty normal life. Every day is the same as the last, and tomorrow will be the same as today. But he likes it like that––he doesn’t want anything to change.

Especially not now, when he finds himself content with every aspect of his life (okay maybe except for his history grade, god, does he hate history).

So, it catches him off guard when you arrive at the group’s usual lunch table, located outside in your school’s courtyard, looking as excited as ever.

Jake’s the only one at the table so far. The remaining usually showed up late––Heeseung spends his first half of lunch tutoring freshmen for community service hours (but the poor boy has no idea what he’s doing), Sunghoon is probably stuck in line in the cafeteria again (he always forgets to pack his own lunch), and Jay is...well actually, no one ever knows where Jay comes from. He’s a special one.

It catches Jake even more off guard when you skip over any greeting a normal person would give, and start speaking at one hundred words per second.

And that catches us up to the present.

“Y-You want me to what?” Jake’s stuttering as you stare at him with your hopeful eyes from across the lunch table.

Despite the expression planted on your face, which screams your excitement for your “brilliant, amazing, genius, Einstein-could-never” idea (or whatever other words you used to describe it––Jake can’t exactly recall the specific terms you used, they all came out of your mouth too fast), you don’t respond to his question of bafflement. You continue to stare at him, awaiting his response. Jake could compare the look on your face right now to a puppy looking up at its owner, eagerly waiting for a treat. You know, tongue out and all.

He swallows the lump that’s lodged in this throat (is that the sandwich he’s having, or his nerves?) and continues to give you his look of confusion laced with a nervous smile because surely, you’re joking.

You grab what’s left of your sandwich from his hands and take your own bite. Somewhere in between you arriving at the table and now, Jake’s managed to steal the sandwich you brought today. You did make the best chicken sandwiches, in his defense.

“Well? It’s only for the week! And I promise you, after one week, if nothing happens––if he doesn’t make a move or anything––I’ll move on from him like you’ve been telling me to.” Your words are muffled from you savoring your sandwich, or what’s left of it anyways. (Mental note to self: don’t share your lunch with Jake ever again.)

When Jake still doesn’t respond (you’ve truly gotten this poor boy paralyzed), you find it as a sign to continue.

“I think it’s the perfect plan. Plus, if it doesn’t work out, it’ll be like the universe is telling me to finally move on, right?”

Wrong.

Jake has been encouraging you to move on from your crush because well, if we’re being honest here, he selfishly wants you to himself. Even if it wasn’t romantically.

Preferably, he would kill to get to be the one who holds your hand in the hall, call you cheesy pet names, post disgustingly cute couple pics for the ‘gram––but for the sake of potentially ruining his relationship with you, he’ll just have to settle with the role of being your best friend.

(And he’s totally fine with that! Totally. Yup.)

But he didn’t think that you moving on would only be a mere possible outcome (that may not even happen!) from whatever this stunt is you wanna pull.

Said stunt: Pretend to date one another and hope it catches the eye of a certain someone you have your eye on: Park Sunghoon.

Ah yes, Park Sunghoon. The previously mentioned one who’s probably still in line waiting to get his lunch as we speak.

Park Sunghoon, the tall, kind, intelligent, charming young boy that everyone knows. And if anyone didn’t know him, they most definitely knew of him. He wasn’t hard to miss in the halls; everything about him just radiates perfection.

If you plucked a random high-schooler from the halls of this school and interviewed them on the Park Sunghoon, they’d say you’d be lucky enough if the quiet boy so much as sparked a conversation with you, even if it was about what last night’s chemistry homework was.

Well if that were true, then you and the rest of the boys would be considered lottery winners.

How that happened, how the four of you dysfunctional beings earned his friendship, the world may never know. However, Jake is fully convinced that this was the universe’s way of playing a cruel joke on him.

For as long as Jake could remember, it’s always been just the two of you. You and Jake. Jake and you. (With the exception of Heeseung and Jay, of course, who came along in middle school)

In fact, your earliest memory of Jake was when he peed his pants in the kindergarten during nap time. You would know, you had the privilege of sharing a sleeping mat with him that one fateful day and in result...let’s just say the smell didn’t wear off from your clothes until a week later. Five-year-old you didn’t forgive five-year-old Jake for the longest time.

And since then, you’ve been attached by the hip. And Jake liked it like that. Jake didn’t need anyone else in his life (with the exception of Leila) if he had you. He had found his home within you, and he didn’t plan on sharing his space anytime soon.

Nevertheless, the universe had a completely different idea for the two of you.

Sunghoon came into the picture last year, towards the end of the school year. Despite being the new kid, he found his way into your cherished friend group and naturally, the five of you grew as close as friends could be.

That was the problem. Jake wanted to hate Sunghoon, to despise him for being the one that you had heart eyes for, but he couldn’t.

Not only was Sunghoon one of Jake’s closest friends, but he didn’t want to ruin the dynamic of the friend group. After you, the three chaotic boys were the next most important people in Jake’s life.

And so, we have the typical love triangle plot that every coming-of-age movie follows. Of course, this is all unbeknownst to you––you may be intelligent and a people-person, but oh boy can you not see the heart eyes your very own best friend has for you.

“It’ll be easier than you think, really! Look, we can even set boundaries or rules or whatever,” you propose, as if you’re trying to get him to sign a contract.

Rules to a fake relationship? We’re not living in a Netflix romcom, are we?

“Okay rule number 1: it’ll only be for a week and a week only, rule number 2: we don’t have to do anything too couple-ly like...” you pause to wonder for a second.

“Like PDA or anything! You know, unless we really need to convince him,” you casually add. When he responds with radio silence and stares at you with absolute concern painted all over his face, you cough. “Jake, I’m joking.”

Right. Of course. Obviously.

“And of course, just try not to fall in love with me, it’ll be hard, I know,” you send a playful wink his way.

Too late. Turns out it’s not that hard. Jake would know.

Jake continues to stare at you in hesitation. Yeah, you’ve had your fair share of crazy ideas (that Jake always find himself agreeing to––the poor boy just can’t seem to say no to you), but fake dating you?

Jake is sure he wouldn’t be able to pull it off without slowly destroying himself. He’d just have to say no, he’s sure you can find someone else to do it for you.

Yes, that’s it, just say no.

Jake has to keep some of his pride in tact.

Jake does not say no.

He doesn’t know what went wrong. His mind said one thing, but his words said another.

To be fair, Jake’s actions have always been influenced by his heart, not his brain, anyways. And when it comes to you, you bet it’ll be coming from his heart.

So here he was now, under the stare of three equally shocked and confused guys across from you and him at the lunch table, your fingers intertwined with his.

Just a few seconds ago, you had spotted the rest of the lunch bunch approaching the table, and you quickly grabbed Jake’s hand and scooted in closer to him.

Now here you were, explaining to your friends of your sudden relationship.

Jake is too zoned out to even physically pick up your explanation. Something along the lines of "we’ve been dating for a while but didn’t want to tell you guys yet." From the feeling of your hand clutched tightly into his and your body right up next to him, his mind was short-circuiting.

How is he supposed to last an entire week of this if he couldn't handle innocent hand holding? Hand holding? God, what are we, back in the fifth grade?

Two minutes into this scheme and Jake's mind has already downgraded itself to a fifth grader's.

Jake mentally scolds himself for giving in, this was not a good idea.

It takes Jake approximately 12 hours to conclude that this stunt of yours may, actually, be a good idea. He knows this because approximately 12 hours after the events surrounding lunch, he receives a text from you:

y/n [12:03AM]: thanks again for doing this for me jake

y/n [12:03AM]: ur actually the best

y/n [12:04AM]: ew ok that was cheesy but really i owe u a big one <333

Following your thread of texts is a really close up photo of you widely smiling into the camera. A smile so big, Jake’s convinced your face was probably in pain after taking that picture.

Anyone else might’ve thought the photo looked borderline insane but because Jake’s Jake, aka a simpᵗᵐ for you, he comes to the conclusion that it’s singlehandedly the cutest thing he’s ever seen in the entire world.

After quickly saving the selfie into his phone, Jake tells himself that maybe this won’t be a bad thing after all. I mean, anything that makes you smile like that meant it has to be a good idea, right?

Spoken like a true simp.

Plus, dating you––fake dating you––is pretty much the same as it was before. He already spends most of his days with you to begin with. Now, it’s just with added displays of affection. For show, obviously. Obviously.

And look, if Jake will never get to actually be with you, then he’ll take what he can get. And if that meant fake dating you, well, he reasons that it’s better than nothing at all.

Wednesday, December 9th

Jake’s playing with the rings on your right hand and you’re in the middle of dramatically telling the lunch table about the infuriating Karen you had to deal with at work the other day when Jay comes up with a grin you all know a little too well.

“Okay that grin means one of two things: you finally grew the balls to ask out that poor girl you’ve been teasing all year or you have something planned that we won’t like,” you interrupt your story when you catch Jay’s sly expression, evoking a chuckle from Jake, who’s now found a new distraction with the bracelets perches on your wrist.

“Excuse you, I’ll have you know that I did ask her out. It just so happens that she’s currently ‘in between boyfriends’ whatever that means. Ouch, by the way,” Jay feigns hurt from your comment by clutching the area above his heart through his shirt. Ever the drama queen. “But yes, I do have something planned. And no, it’s not a bad idea.”

Jay squeezes his way in between Sunghoon and Heeseung from across you and begins to pull out his own lunch. Everyone’s eyes follow him as he settles in because as bad as his unknown idea may be, you’re all still curious on what this boy has to say.

“Well are you going to elaborate or...” Heeseung speaks up for everyone after you all mentally debate one another through darting eyes on who’s going to have to bite Jay’s silent bait.

Jay then forcefully sets both hands on his table, which elicits a little jump from you as you go for a bite of your sandwich. Adorable, Jake tells himself.

“My parents are out of town this weekend. We all know what that means...”

Yes. We do know what that means. The four of you have seen this scenario play out many times, a little too many times for your own good.

This meant one of Jay’s infamous house parties that he always throws whenever his parents go out of town. And because his parents are hot-shot CEOs of an important company whose name you don’t remember (it’s nothing personal, your brain can only handle so much information and this physics exam you were studying for took up 90% of your brain capacity at the moment), they’re out of town often.

And along with Jay’s parties comes chaos. Lots of it. And that’s because...well, it’s safe to say that despite the many school-wide presentations the police officers of your school have held in the auditorium on why you shouldn’t drink underage, Jay’s parents’ liquor cabinet always seems to find itself missing many a few bottles after each party. But we don’t talk about that. Shush.

Almost simultaneously, everyone at the table lets out a groan, much to Jay’s disappointment.

“C’mon guys! It’s been a while since anything’s fun happened to this school, think of all the sad students in that building right now,” he extends a finger whole-ass arm and points at your school, “who are in dire need of fun and a little...” he punctuates his sentence with the hand motion of chugging down a drink, followed with a gulping sound elicited from his tongue clicking.

You roll your eyes along with everyone else. Don’t be like Jay, kids. Listen to those police officers.

“Jay, it’s midterm season! I have an exam on Monday and I definitely do not want to spend the nights before wasted,” you give him an apologetic look. As crazy as Jay is, you do feel bad nonetheless. The boy just wants to have fun.

Your response is followed up with similar comments from around the table.

“I’m helping y/n study”

“I have an important skating performance on Sunday”

“Uh...my hamster died?” (ok Heeseung panicked, don’t blame the guy)

Ignoring that last excuse of an excuse, Jay continues his debate nonetheless. “Just come for the sake of it! No one’s saying you have to get wasted. Pleaseeee for me?”

Jay throws these parties so often, you’re not sure why he’s so set on making sure you’re all going to be there. Well, I guess who wouldn’t want their closest friends to be at their own party?

That and, Jay needs to make sure his friends are there to stop him from doing anything stupid. We all know this boy has had enough embarrassing moments to last him a lifetime.

Everyone at the table gives each other the same hesitant look. Heeseung is the first to give in, “Oh fuck it. Sure, count me in.”

Jay’s fist pumping the air before turning to Sunghoon with the most hopeful eyes.

Sunghoon simply sighs in return. “Alright okay, I’ll bite. But if you vomit on my shoes again, I’m out the door.” Jay’s finger is automatically drawing a cross over his heart as a promise to not ruin Sunghoon’s Nikes again.

He then looks to you with puppy eyes.

You, who's already staring back at Jay with a stoic look in your eyes, are stubborn and (unlike the previous weaklings) are not as easy to convince. And somehow, this began an unannounced staring contest between the two of you, a contest to see who would budge first. This isn't an uncommon occurrence between you and Jay, but the rest of the boys are still on the edges of their seats watching this duel.

Jake casually wraps an arm around your shoulder and you’re brought in close, but still undeterred from your death-stare match with the boy across from you.

If it’s not obvious enough, Jake’s really gotten into his role of being your boyfriend, despite it only being 24 hours since he last froze at your touch. Character development, you’ll give him that.

You almost forget he’s faking it for a quick second. And for an even quicker second, you imagine he wasn’t faking it. And you swear you feel butterflies in your stomach at that thought.

Weird.

You mentally shake the thought out of your head. Priorities first, aka, beating Jay in this staring contest.

“Fuck,” you stutter when you finally blink, admitting defeat to a grinning Jay. “Okay, okay, I’ll THINK about it. I’ll let you know.”

Not exactly the answer Jay was looking for, but he’ll take it. Better than a no.

He turns to Jake next, knowing there’s no way Jake will turn down a party. Just like Jay, the boy loves himself a good party.

But–

But because Jake would take your physics exam this Monday for you if you asked, because Jake would bungee jump in the Grand Canyon without a safety net below him if you asked, because Jake would fake date you to make your crush jealous for you if you asked, he doesn’t hesitate in his answer this time around: “Same as y/n, I’ll let you know.”

Jay looks at Jake. Then back at you, who he’s still clinging onto like a koala to a tree. Then back at Jake. “You two are gross. Admittedly cute. But gross.”

You look up at the boy next to you to see him already grinning at you.

For the first time today, you find yourself agreeing with Jay.

Admittedly cute.

Thursday, December 10th

You are having a bad day.

You’re having the mother of bad days.

Not only is it midterm season, but you still have all your regular weekly assignments to finish before Friday hits. So as a natural-born procrastinator does, you stayed up all last night trying to get a good amount of work done because what’s better than cramming all your work the night before it’s due? Doing it two nights before it’s due.

Well apparently it wasn’t such a good idea. Because now, here you were, frantically throwing on whatever articles of clothing you find nearest to you because you slept through all your alarms.

You’re lucky enough to make it through your school’s doors right as the second bell rings, even if you did look like you just walked straight out of a zombie apocalypse.

You’re not so lucky when you find out your first class of the day, calculus, had a pop quiz. A pop quiz on the only unit you just happened to know absolutely nothing about.

To top things off, you forgot to pack your lunch during this morning’s frenzy, meaning you’re automatically stuck sharing with Jake.

And because his mother started making him pack his own food out of a lesson of responsibility (she said something along the lines of: “Jake, you’re about to be in college and you don’t know how to pack a decent meal”), he only has a plain PB&J sandwich and a pack of Scooby-Doo gummies in his bag today (because newsflash, he still doesn’t know how to pack a decent meal).

Not that you could care less at the moment, you were too preoccupied with catching up on your assignments to even eat. And if any of the boys noticed your zombie-like state during lunch, they did a good job of not mentioning it. They knew better than to bother an irritated y/n.

Somehow, you make it through the entire school day and your after-school meeting for environmental club (save the trees!) in one piece. As you finally walk out of the school building, you exhale, automatically feeling lighter. At least the hard part of your day was done.

Now you just had to wait for Jake to finish soccer practice, which usually ended around the same time as your club, and he can drive you home, where you can continue being irritated with your day in the privacy of your own space.

You wait on the steps of the school’s entrance, waiting for a smiley Jake to come around the corner as he usually does at 5:30pm every Thursdays.

Yes, a smiling Jake is exactly what you needed to make your day ten times better, you conclude.

As if on cue, you hear a ding from your phone.

Jake [5:30PM]: ugh coach is extending practice for “team bonding”

Jake [5:30PM]: idek what team bonding is

Jake [5:31PM]: you ok if i cant drive you today? ://

It’s as if the universe decided to use you as its punching bag today.

You physically let out a distorted groan, not caring if anyone who happened to hear you thought you were a creature from out of this world, as you send him a text back.

y/n [5:32PM]: it’s all good lol have fun with tEaM bOnDiNg

Things were not all good. But no matter how upset you may be, you weren’t going to project your negative vibes onto Jake’s naturally positive ones. So you get up from the stone steps and begin your dreaded walk back home.

It’s freezing out. You should’ve known better to just throw on a hoodie and call it a day when it’s the middle of December. But then again, you figured by now you’d be in the comfort and warmth of Jake’s car and presence...not walking home in these freezing temperatures.

You think about Jake and how he’s probably currently suffering from not only his team bonding exercises (but really though, what are team bonding exercises?), but doing them in this weather as well. The poor boy.

You’re quickly broken out of your thoughts by the sound of a car engine from behind you. When you don’t see it pass by you and instead hear it pull over and park next to the curb of the sidewalk you’re currently on, you automatically deduce that this is it, this is my time, I’m about to get kidnapped by whoever it is behind me but y/n, you should probably turn around and check first before you drive yourself insane in this inner dialogue.

You turn around and squint into the front window of the car. If it were a kidnapper, this is exactly what your mother told you not to do. Her exact words were: “Run, don’t look back, and scream bloody murder.”

Good thing it wasn’t. Just an innocent Sunghoon waving his hand at you, motioning you to get in.

“Sunghoon?” You approach his car and stop at the passenger side’s open window.

“y/n! It’s freezing out, I’ll drive you home c’mon,” he nods his head towards the passenger side door.

Well, how could you say no? Sunghoon owns a nice car. Like a nice car. Like car-seat-heaters-that-make-you-feel-like-you’re-physically-melting nice. Beats getting hypothermia outside, right?

“Why are you going home from school so late?” You ask as you settle into his car, instantly melting at the touch of the aforementioned heated seats.

“Debate club, actually. Decided I needed another personality trait other than ice skating,” he starts the engine and begins driving towards the direction of your neighborhood.

You laugh at his comment, you didn’t peg him as a debate kind of student. Quiet Sunghoon? Debate club? If 2 plus 2 is four...

“Hey, I don’t call you the Ice Prince for nothing! Also, don’t forget your other personality trait: forgetting your lunch every day.”

Sunghoon quickly glances over at you to send you a dirty look (because eyes on the road, kids!), which you return with a cheeky grin. “Need I remind you that was you today?”

“Touché,” you click your tongue.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the faint sound of Sunghoon's music in the background filling in the quietness.

You’re humming along until Sunghoon breaks the silence, “Did Jake get stuck at practice again?”

You don’t know why, but you swear you feel your heart beat faster at the mention of Jake’s name. No, that was always there right? Because you were with Sunghoon...your crush..obviously. Obviously.

Ignoring the feeling, you turn your attention towards the boy driving you.

“Oh yeah, something about team bonding. How’d you know?”

“Eh, I just figured since he wasn’t driving you home like he always does.” He turns into your neighborhood.

You nod at his answer.

“You two make a good couple.”

You whip your head at him. Did you hear him correctly?

“It was about time, really. You two have been ogling at one another for so long, Heeseung, Jay, and I almost placed bets on who would be the first to make a move.”

He keeps his eyes on the road, casually going on about how you and Jake make the cutest couple he’s ever seen.

You're frozen, unsure of what to think, let alone say.

You think to two days ago, when you started this entire fake relationship because of the very boy driving you home right now. The same boy who's complimenting you on your fake relationship. The same boy who's supposed to be jealous over that said relationship. The same boy you’re supposed to be crushing over.

But now...only a mere 48 hours later, you were finding yourself okay with the fact that he was happy for you. And for the life of you, you couldn’t remember why you liked Sunghoon in the first place. Not saying he isn’t one to be crushed on, I mean, look at the guy.

Maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with the fact that you didn't feel nervous or giddy or..anything at all when you got into the car with Sunghoon. At least, not until Jake's name was mentioned. That's when you felt the butterflies. At the mention of Jake.

Jake.

Weird.

But before you can come to a conclusion on why you're feeling the way you do, Sunghoon interrupts your thoughts.

"Well, we're here! Say hi to your parents for me," he pulls into your driveway as you're still collecting your thoughts.

You give him a quick thanks and one last wave as you enter the front doors of your house.

Seeing that your only solution towards confusing feelings meant distracting yourself, distract yourself you did.

Even if it meant distracting yourself with your piling assignments.

The next time you look up from your work, it's suddenly way past sundown and a heavy storm has taken over. You’re surprised it hasn’t started flooding yet with the amount of rainfall you were hearing.

You check the time on your phone, the bright 8:16PM on the screen illuminating your dimly lit room. Seeing that neither of your parents have yet to be home from work, it looks like you were going to have to settle with some instant ramen for dinner tonight.

As you trudge down the stairs of your home, the sound of light knocking against the front door catches your attention. It's been a long day y/n, you're probably hearing things, it's definitely just the rain.

Nope. There it is again, but much louder. Much more urgent.

You contemplate any and all potential disasters that could happen from answering the door. Only a crazy person would be willing to go out in this hurricane-like weather to be frantically knocking on your door.

And so, you assume it has to be some psychopath trying to get into your house. Yes, there’s definitely no other logical explanation.

You scramble around your living room, looking for the next best weapon to defend you. Resorting to the flower vase your mother keeps on the table next to the front door, you hold it out in front of you, as if you're waiting for the door to burst open.

The knocking continues, gradually getting louder. You mentally curse at yourself for dropping out of the taekwondo class your dad signed you up for when you were younger.

Vase in hand, you swing open the door and brace for–

"Jake? What the fuck? Get in here, you're gonna get sick!"

You’re suddenly aware of how stupid you look, holding a light pink vase with a couple of orchids as your only form of self-defense...for it to only be your own best friend. You immediately put it back on the table as Jake quickly rushes past you and into your humble abode.

You close the door behind you and turn to face the soaked boy.

“I come bearing gifts, also known as take-out and hot chocolate from that one cafe you love. Also my company, if you’ll take it. I had a feeling you weren’t having the best day today,” he’s simply standing there, holding up a large brown paper bag in one hand, and a deliciously smelling cup of hot chocolate in the other, but you’re looking at him as if he bought you the Moon.

You stare in awe at the angel of a boy in front of you, silently thanking the stars for gifting you this amazing human being as your best friend. You don’t know what you did to deserve him.

You give him a soft smile. “Jake, you didn’t have to. It’s practically a shitstorm out there,” you cock your head towards the window, showcasing the downpour of cats and dogs outside. Jake stays by the entrance as you go down the hall and through your house’s linen closet to find a spare towel for the drenched boy.

“Nah it’s no big deal, really. Just fulfilling my duties as your loyal boyfriend,” he grins, even though you can’t see him. He likes calling himself that. Your boyfriend.

Jake continues to shake his messy hair to get the excess rain off, giving a mental apology to whoever is going to have to mop up the puddle forming on the floor due to his unannounced visit. Probably you.

Jake hears you laugh down the hall. “You’re really invested in your role, huh? Keep this up and you might actually trick me into believing you’re my actual boyfriend.”

Actual boyfriend? Jake likes the sound of that. Maybe he will keep this up then.

Jake doesn’t have much experience in acting, unless you count that time he played the role of Town Villager #3 in the third grade play, so he never found it as one of his interests. But playing the role of your boyfriend was one he was willing to fulfill for the rest of life, even if it was just for show.

Jake doesn’t respond to your comment, he’s instead self-aware of his blushing cheeks, thankful that you’re too busy rummaging through your linen closet to take notice.

“Plus, you didn’t have lunch today and I had feeling you were going to be too caught up in your work to feed yourself anything other than instant ramen,” he sets down his gifts to you on your living room’s coffee table as you come around the corner, fresh towel and new set of clothes in hand.

His eyes fall on the familiar looking pair of sweatpants and hoodie resting on the palms of your hands.

Hm. A little too familiar.

Then, it clicks in his head.

His eyes narrow at you as you giggle at his reaction, “Oh, so it takes me getting drenched in the rain for you to finally return my clothes that I’ve been missing!?”

“Hey! I’m not returning them, simply loaning them out to a friend who’s in dire need. You basically gifted them to me the second you left them here months ago.”

“You’re annoying.”

“Love you too,” you toss the clothes at him and take a seat on the floor around your coffee table, prepping the table with the boxes of Chinese food Jake supplied.

After Jake changes into the stolen dry clothes, he takes a seat next to an already-eating you at the coffee table.

“You. are. my lord and savior Sim Jaeyun,” you’re saying with your mouth full of fried rice. You sigh from satisfaction and rest your head against Jake’s shoulder as you continue chewing. He grins as he helps himself to his own serving of fried rice and orange chicken.

You look up at him from your spot, “How was team bonding today?”

Jake groans in response, clearly annoyed. “Stupid. I don’t get how doing trust falls and pyramid building is going to get us any closer. If anything, I almost FELL off that pyramid today!”

You don’t know why, but you find yourself admiring him and his soft features as he continues to rant about one of his teammates, specifically, the one who almost dropped him.

The way his messy hair, unkept from the rain ruining it, almost covers his eyes (but you tell yourself you like it this way, it looks more natural on him), the way the corners of his lips are always perked upwards (even when he’s ranting), the way his eyes sparkle whenever he’s truly passionate about whatever he’s talking about, the way his eyes look at you like–

“Stare much? Look, I get you can’t resist my good looks but at least be subtle about it,” he smirks at you as he takes another spoon of rice.

You break out of his trance and scoff at him.

“You’re cute when you rant,” you nonchalantly say as you move from your spot to mirror his actions and add more rice to your plate as well. Jake’s stills at your sudden comment, unsure of how to respond. Lucky for him, you’re distracted by the mountain of food on your plate to even notice the blushing mess of a boy next to you.

“You know, you’re lucky you’re cute. Or else I’d deck you right here and now for ditching me after school today.”

Anddd there goes the moment. Leave it to you to follow up a compliment with a threat of violence.

Jake finds it cute anyways. He always finds you cute.

Jake narrows his eyes and lightly shoves you before an apology is written all over his face. “Sorry about that by the way. I feel awful about making you walk home when it was freezing out.”

“Nah, it’s okay. Sunghoon gave me a ride, actually. Did you know he does debate? I guess you learn something new everyday,” you ramble, unaware of the boy next to you getting tense at the sudden mention of the other’s name.

Up until now, Jake’s completely forgotten about Sunghoon's involvement in this entire scheme. In fact, the past 48 hours with you have felt so normal, so comfortable, he almost forgot about the deal in the first place. “You think he has any clue?” Jake suddenly asks, referring to the plan.

You immediately know what he’s referring to, as Jake practically worded out your very own thoughts.

You shrug. “Not a single one. We’re practically William and Kate in his eyes. But honestly, that’s the least of my worries right now. I’m too distracted by my exams right now to care.”

Jake feels guilty for being satisfied with your answer. He’s 100% sure that if convincing Sunghoon took you two an entire lifetime of fake dating, he’d be all too willing to do it.

“Go to Jay’s party with me tomorrow,” he abruptly says, catching your attention as your mouth is stuffed. Cute.

He pokes your cheek. “It’ll get your mind off of work and plus, what’s more convincing than showing up to a party with your amazing boyfriend?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Jake doesn’t know where he gets his sudden surge of confidence. But he does know he loves calling himself your boyfriend...even if it’s for the time being.

Rolling your eyes and swatting his poking fingers away from your face, you ponder on his suggestion.

“You mean my annoying boyfriend,” you stick your tongue out at him. Jake takes a mental picture and hopes it never leaves his mind.

“But I guess you could be right. Maybe I can clear my head for the night before I study my ass off all weekend.”

Friday, December 11th

The party does not clear your mind.

If anything, it gives you enough headaches to last you at least until the end of high-school.

You come to this revelation as you and Jake approach Jay’s home, a luxurious mansion sitting at the end of a cul-de-sac, lined with similarly luxurious palaces, located in an equally luxurious neighborhood.

You come to this revelation when you can already feel the pounding bass of music as you walk up Jay’s driveway.

You come to this revelation when, not even two seconds after entering Jay’s front doors––

“You’re here!” A buzzed Jay shouts at the two of you, causing the both of you to contemplate your past choices that brought you here today. Jay definitely isn’t straight up drunk yet, but Jake still makes a mental note to keep an eye on him tonight. Just in case.

The blonde-haired boy is quick to hand over two red solo cups of god knows what, to which you and Jake immediately put down on the nearest table after Jay walks away to greet the next incoming guests (you know, to not hurt his feelings).

You and Jake are lucky enough to have been around Jay and his parties long enough to know that going all out at these parties will not be pretty the next morning.

You cringe at the memory of last year, when you had to suffer from possibly the worst hangover of all hangovers after one of Jay’s parties. Jake will never let you forget how miserable you looked the next morning. His camera roll’s album titled “y/n blackmail pics” can vouch for that.

“Remind me again to never listen to you,” you almost have to shout at Jake over the thumping music. Jake laughs at your comment and tugs at your hand as he begins entering the house.

The two of you do your rounds of greetings to the people you know...and random underclassmen who you swear you have never seen before but somehow made it to this party. You’ve always questioned how Jay’s invite list worked. Maybe there isn’t one. That would explain how it looked like someone announced Jay was giving out free Teslas and the entire school got hold of the news.

“Thank god you guys are here,” you hear a voice come from behind the two of you as you guys leave the main room to enter the house’s smaller, but just as luxurious looking, den. You turn to see Heeseung with Sunghoon following closely behind, trying his best not to get swept away in the crowd of people.

The den is where you usually stayed during these parties. It’s not like there are rules of where people are allowed to party, by any means, but it’s like how a high-school’s cafeteria worked. There’s a mutual silent agreement of where everyone goes, and the den is where the party host and his friends went.

“Okay, is it just me, or is tonight’s party just a little...too..much?” Sunghoon asks as the four of you take your seats on the main couch of the room. Jake’s quick to make space for you next to him as you go to sit, but to his surprise, you find your home right on his lap.

“You said be convincing right?” you say into his ear as you settle yourself. Right. That’s totally why. Because you had to go along with the ruse. Obviously.

You shift a bit so you’re more facing sideways, not blocking off Jake’s line of vision as the boy himself is..well, calling him a rag doll might be excessive.

But he’s sure he looks like one right now, having lost all senses in his limbs, leaving him frozen underneath you.

Jake Sim is the epitome of politeness. He was raised in a family that taught him how to respectfully greet others, how to always offer food to others before eating it himself, how to properly treat a significant other. As a result, Jake grew up to be one of the sweetest, kindest, purest people to ever walk this earth.

(Relatively speaking, the earth is large, but so is Jake’s heart.)

But human-beings aren’t perfect, they must have a balance. A balance of pros and cons.

Sure, he can’t pack his own lunch and sometimes forgets to water the little succulent you gifted him that’s currently seated on his window sill. Sure, sometimes he’s too sweet for his own good, you know, like willing-to-be-your-fake-boyfriend too sweet. But aside from the minor details, Jake Sim doesn’t have many cons, no.

But he sure can be awkward.

And so because Jake Sim is sweet, kind, pure, and awkward, he is unsure of what to do with himself when you’re seated right on top of him.

As if you could read his befuddled mind, you take his arm that’s resting behind you to wrap around your waist as your support as you throw one of your arms around his shoulder. And throughout this entire adjustment, his widened eyes are staring right at you.

Bless this pure, pure boy.

Also bless the position you’re in, blocking the two other boys from directly seeing Jake’s face. Because if they were to catch glimpse of Jake’s expression right now, your cover might be blown, just like that. You’re lucky Heeseung and Sunghoon are distracted by another classmate who came up to them.

“Relax,” you sweetly laugh, cupping his chin with your free hand and lightly squeezing his cheeks. “You’re so adorably awkward.”

Jake pouts at you. “I am not awkward!”

“Right, and I’m totally dating you for real,” you playfully whisper at him, eliciting a poke at your waist in response.

Twenty minutes of people-watching-aka-“who do you think is gonna pass out first?”-from-your-spot-on-the-couch later, the four of you draw your attention to the rowdy party host you all have the honor of calling your friend––aka Jay––dancing (that is, if you call wildly swinging your limbs in all four directions dancing) in the middle of the den.

"Oh god, look at him," Sunghoon voices from besides you.

Heeseung's already filming the moment on his phone. Ah yes, technology. The best thing to ever happen to drunk teens' friends.

"He's so wasted," you throw your head back as you let out a laugh. “We should help the kid out.”

Poor Jay. He's not gonna hear the end of it after tonight.

"I don't know why he thinks these parties are such a good idea when he knows how trashed he's gonna be when he wakes up," Jake says, his hand naturally squeezing your waist as you giggle at his comment. "And how trashed the house will be."

Jay slumbers over to where the four of you are seated, and abruptly stops right in front of the couch.

"My best friends!" Jay happily cheers. “Having fun?”

“Watching you? Always,” you say to the boy who’s squeezing into a seat between you and Sunghoon, as if the small couch wasn’t already suffocating enough (and that’s with you on Jake’s lap).

“But for real though, you should probably lay off the drinks for now,” Heeseung insists. “For all our sakes.”

Sunghoon nods along and grabs the cup Jay’s currently nursing and sets it down where it’s out of Jay’s reach, much to his dismay. But the disappointment quickly leaves the dazed boy’s head, as his attention is now directed towards you and Jake.

“Well if it isn’t mom and dad,” Jay turns to face you and Jake, certainly amused by your seating arrangement.

“You know–” Jay points a finger at the two of you. “For a couple that’s certainly close, I haven’t seen you two kiss.”

Jake is immediately coughing, certainly not expecting that to come out of his friend’s mouth.

“Okay and your point is?” Jake frowns at Jay. If Jay wasn’t tipsy, Jake would’ve smacked the back of his head by now.

“I’m just saying...” the blonde responds, both hands up in the air as if Jake is accusing him of something, when in was, in fact, the opposite. “But nevermind, Jakey boy here is probably too innocent for such nonsense anyways.”

Yes, it’s confirmed. Once Jay sobers up tomorrow, Jake is driving over to his house (even though it’s a good ten minute drive from his own) just to smack him.

“What do you mean I’m too–”

Jake doesn’t finish his sentence. In fact, Jake doesn’t even remember what he was going to say.

Jake doesn’t think nor feel anything else other than your lips planted on his.

You’re pulling him in close, your hands cupping his face as his own are twitching on your waist, his mind flustered. You move your hands from his face to his neck, to which Jake immediately relaxes at.

Sure, you two are in the middle of a dumb high-school party, one filled with pounding music and shouting teenagers, but right now, in this moment, Jake can only feel you. And he doesn’t want the feeling to ever stop.

When you part, Jake’s eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, his own parted in shock. He thinks he might pass out right here and now. He thinks his heart might explode right here and now. He thinks he might lov-

“Happy?” you turn to a satisfied Jay, ignoring the looks of amusement from Heesung and Sunghoon besides him.

“Well,” you pat Jake’s leg as you get up from your spot. “I’m gonna get us some drinks. Punch only, of course.”

Jake’s eyes are on you as you walk away, his face tinted pink from the adrenaline of it all, his heart racing.

Jake thinks back to three days ago, when he told himself that this idea of yours was going to be all fine. After all, it was only going to be for one week. Afterwards, he can move on with his life as if nothing happened.

But fast forward 72 hours later, 72 hours after you and Jake started this act, 72 hours after Jake told himself it’ll be all fine, Jake knows he was poorly mistaken.

Because 72 hours later, in the middle of a party that reeked of the combined smell of alcohol and sweat, Jake knows one thing and one thing for sure.

He never wants to move on from the feeling of being with you. He never wants to move on from this.

From you.

He’s screwed.

Saturday, December 12th

When Jake wakes up, much later than he intended to, on Saturday morning, the first sensation he feels are his tingling lips, still in disbelief that they graced your own last night.

The second sensation being his pounding mind––it’s running through ten million thoughts at a time, telling him no last night wasn’t a dream.

Third: his heart beating so fast at the thought of you, he thinks he might beat out of his chest.

And fourth, a buzzing noise.

Jake blindly flounders his arm to the table beside him in hopes of finding the origin of the annoying sound, aka, his phone.

After knocking down multiple miscellaneous items on his nightstand (he makes a mental note to clean his room later), he successfully retrieves the item of search.

Jake squints at the bright screen, mind still cloudy from a mix of 1) being half-asleep, and 2) still processing what happened the night before.

y/n [11:10AM]: r u awake yet?

y/n [11:22AM]: imma take that as a no

y/n [11:35AM]: lemme know when ur up

jake [11:44AM]: just woke up sorry

jake [11:44AM]: are you okay? what’s up

y/n [11:45AM]: r u busy?

y/n [11:45AM]: kinda wanted to talk abt smth

jake [11:45AM]: uh well no im still in bed lmao

y/n [11:46AM]: cool im outside your door

Jake’s eyes widen as he processes your last few texts.

Talk? Outside his door?

Jake’s heart is nervously pounding as jumps out of bed and quickly puts on the first plaid flannel he finds. He scrambles to his mirror and gives his reflection a quick run-down.

He’s sporting your his favorite hoodie underneath the flannel that’s long overdue a wash and his tousled hair has seen better days, but he couldn't care less.

Before his mind can catch up to his actions, he’s rushing down the stairs, skipping two at a time and to this front door. Because he didn’t want to keep you waiting? Because he was too excited to see you? Maybe a mix of both. Definitely more of the latter, however.

He quickly runs a hand through his hair to try to fix it up as much as he can, to no avail, before opening the door to reveal you, sitting on the steps of his front porch.

“y/n,” he’s breathing heavily as you turn to greet him with your sweet smile he didn’t even realize he was missing. Is it possible to miss someone overnight? Jake concludes yes, it definitely is.

“Did you run down here or something?,” you question his out-of-breath state, a teasing tone laces the tip of your tongue.

“Or something,” Jake mutters as he closes the front door behind him to join you on the steps when you make no sign of moving. “Have you been out here all morning?”

“Not allll morning. I had a feeling you’d sleep in so I came around the time I first texted you. Would’ve knocked but didn’t wanna bother your family,” you hum, keeping your eyes trained on the peaceful scenery around you.

You’ve always loved Jake’s neighborhood, it brought you a sense of peace, a sense of home.

Or was that because it reminded you of Jake?

“You could never be a bother,” he quickly rebuttals as he takes his seat next to you on the steps.

You respond with a soft smile before turning your attention back to anything other than the boy next to you. Your mind seems to be lost in its own thoughts, Jake can tell by the distant look in your eyes.

The sound of birds chirping in the distance fills the silence that falls between the two of you.

Any other day, Jake would love this. He savors every second he’s with you, even if it’s just pure silence.

But this silence was different. It wasn’t the usual comforting, warm silence that the two of you share on a typical day. This one held tension, tension so thick that Jake doesn’t know where to begin thinking.

But here’s the thing. Jake doesn’t think.

Not when it comes to you.

He takes a deep breath. Rubs his hands together. Pats them on his lap. Turns towards you.

“Look, I-”

“I think I might like you.” The words come out of your mouth so fast, Jake’s positive he heard you wrong the first time around.

He whips his head to meet your eyes, your own already staring back at him, your bottom lip nervously tucked under your teeth.

“No, I––I do. I know I do. I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you and I don’t think I’m doing a very good job right now,” the words are all of the sudden tumbling out of your mouth as if your brain flipped a switch and isn’t able to turn it off. “In hindsight, I should’ve known better to fake date my own best friend. But these past few days made me realize how much I love being with you. And not like how I’m always with you 24/7 before this entire thing started, but being with you. I even started getting that weird, bubbly feeling in my stomach every time I so much as heard your name. And then last night at the party, I realized afterwards that I wouldn’t have kissed you if some part of me didn’t see you in that way. Even if it meant Jay would’ve been on our asses all night if I didn’t. So yeah.”

You finish with a deep breath and look up at him to meet his widened eyes. Silence.

Jake thought he was braindead during last week’s history quiz. Jake thought he was braindead when he had to cram a semester’s worth of chemistry content the night before his exam. Heck, Jake thought he was braindead when you first told him about your idea of a fake dating him. But no, this is braindead.

He’s finally hearing what he’s been dreaming of for so long, and of all times, now his brain decides to shut off.

“Are you..uh..are you gonna say anything?” You’re nervously fumbling with your hands, desperate to distract yourself with anything else apart from his silent stare.

"Why are you sorry?" Jake says before his mind can think of anything else. He doesn't pay attention to his thumping heart that's one look-from-you away from exploding right then and there. "You didn't do anything wrong. If anything, you took the words right out of my mouth.”

Now you're staring at him with the wide eyes, the words processing in your mind.

Jake realizes he's waited too long to do this. A few years too long. He also realizes he shouldn't have put on that extra layer of a flannel. The nervous tension created by the two of you was suffocating enough, and being outside under the bright sun didn’t help.

"I like you too. God y/n, I like you too so much," Jake doesn't even care if his words are all sorts of messed up right now. He just needs you to get the idea. "I have for a while now.”

You let out a relieved sigh, ecstasy rushing through your blood. “Really? I think I have for a while too. I’m so stupid, it took me so long to realize it. It didn’t hit me until I realized how I felt around you, compared to the guy I’m supposed to actually have a crush on.”

Jake lets out a laugh, the tension immediately dissolving. “Hey, if it wasn’t for Sunghoon, I don’t think we’d be here right now.”

“You’re right, I’m too oblivious and you’re too awkward to actually make a move,” you wink at him. If his heart wasn’t fluttering at the sight of you, on his porch on a Saturday morning, confessing your feelings to him, Jake probably would’ve lightly shoved you away.

Instead, he’s turning to you with the most endeared look on his face, and you’re blushing underneath his gaze.

“What? Stare much?” You giggle, quoting the boy himself as you shyly duck your head to avoid his stare.

Jake gently grabs your chin to tilt your face towards his, and before you can process what’s happening, he suddenly meets your lips with his own, closing the gap between you two.

Jake thinks if the ground underneath him right now decided to open up and swallow him whole, he’d die happily.

Jake smiles against you, feeling comfort in ways he’ll never be able to achieve without you.

Your hands instinctively find their way into his hair, as one of his rests below your ear, thumb softly caressing your cheek, the other pulling you in by the waist. He’s naturally leaning into you, gravitating towards your warmth, unable to stop the giddy feeling bubbling in his stomach.

He doesn’t think the feeling will ever go away.

When you pull away to catch your breath, you rest your head against the nook of his neck, basking in his presence as his arms both find their way around your waist. You sigh in pleasure.

“Remember at the beginning of all of this, when you told me ‘Just try not to fall in love with me?’” Jake gently says. Jake feels the slight nod you give against his shoulder as you hum in response.

Jake whispers two more words into your ear, filling you with happiness and warmth you know you won’t be able to find through anyone––or anything––else.

“Too late.”

✰ if you made it ‘til the end, ily :’)))))

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queenofbaws · 2 years

Note

I humbly beg of thee, Max Laura anything. I was thinking a first kiss gone wrong? PRACTICE KISSING BC THEYRE UR BEST FRIEND SO ITS NOT WEIRD AND YOU HAVE FEELINGS SO U THINK KISSING WILL HELP BUT NOPE THE FEELINGS GET WORSE??? I will take any scrap I can get my greedy lil hands on!!!!

thank you so much!!!

at-least-but-not-exactly-six sentence sat(or)sunday!!! ---

“I think we should kiss.”

“I th - wait, what.”

Of all the ways Max could’ve responded, Laura thought that one was probably best. It wasn’t really a question, and it wasn’t an exclamation, and he hadn’t like sprang up from the bench or anything, and the look on his face that went along with it was more confused than grossed out, so...in the grand scheme of things? Could’ve been worse! Could’ve been a lot worse.

She made herself nod (mostly because she’d been keying herself up for the past, oh, half hour or so just to get those five dumb words out and now that she’d spoken them, it was like her brain had thrown in the towel for the day), then absently took to rubbing the palms of her hands together as she thought her way through the next step. “Yeah, I mean, that’ll prove it one way or the other, don’t you think? If we’re...” She gestured. “If this...” Another gesture, pretty much the same as the first. “I just think maybe it’s the one surefire way to get to the bottom of it, that’s all.”

“O-okay, let me see if I’ve got this straight,” Max said, his hands drumming out a tuneless rhythm against his knees. “You think we should kiss now to figure out if, what, we want to kiss more? In the future? Like, going forward? Is that what you’re saying?” He didn’t give her time to answer. “Yeah, I mean. Sold. Let’s do this.”

“I - wait, really?” It occurred to her that she’d pretty much parroted back what he’d said earlier, and so she couldn’t help but snort as she turned to better face him. “That’s...that’s it? That’s all the convincing you needed?”

The drumbeat cut off mid-solo as Max shrugged, his hands palms-up and at shoulder-height. “I don’t know what you want me to say here, Laura, it’s a solid plan.”

“Well yeah, I know that,” she laughed, finding it very difficult to sit still all of a sudden; had they really been sitting that close this whole time? It seemed impossible to think that their legs had been touching like that the whole time they’d been there, but maybe that was just the sort of stuff you didn’t stop to think about when it was your best friend’s leg doing the touching. Or...okay, no, none of that...okay, she had to stop thinking about that. “I guess I just sort of expected...”

“What? Should I have stuck my tongue out and gone ‘Ew, cooties?’ I know you have cooties, Laura. I’ve seen the test results. I was there on the playground the day you got your circles, dots, and yes, that extremely overdue cooties shot. I know what I’m signing up for here.” His joke did very little to distract from the extreme case of ants-in-the-pants he’d been stricken with, but it did earn him a shoulder-nudge. “Besides, it’s, y’know. Like I said, a solid plan. It makes sense. It’s like...taking a...” His eyes narrowed as he came to terms with what he was about to say. “Test drive.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “A test drive.”

“Yeah. Just. With. Our...mouths...okay, admittedly, not the best comparison I could’ve made, but also? Just saying? Probably not the worst, either.”

Boy, she knew that was the truth.

Laura took a breath, nodded to herself, and then set her hands on her thighs. This was it. She’d been the one to slap the idea down on the table where both of them could see it, so it was only right that she be the one to put it into action. “Okay,” she said, speaking to herself just as much as she was to him. “Ground rules.”

“Ground rules,” he repeated incredulously, taking his sweet time turning towards her so they were fully facing each other instead of just sitting side-by-side. “I sort of feel like setting ground rules takes something away from the kissing experience. Like...most of it, actually.”

“Yeah, fine, but you’re the one who called this a ‘test drive,’ Max, and you know what test drives have? Rules. Like don’t steal the car. And don’t swerve out of your way to hit every raccoon you see.”

He held his hands up again, and that time she thought she detected the sliiightest trembling in his fingers. “You got me there. So how about this, ground rule number one, I promise I won’t kill any raccoons while kissing you.”

To show him precisely how much she thought of that witty little zinger, Laura blinked once. Slowly. Then clucked her tongue and brought one of her hands up to cover his eyes. “Ground rule number two - ”

“Oh, so the raccoon thing is staying in? Good to know.”

“ - close your eyes, would you? This...who kisses someone else with their eyes open? That’s...it’s ghoulish.”

“All right, all right.” He made a big show of pushing her hand back down to reveal he had, in fact, shut his eyes. “Done. Any other requests?”

“Yeah, actually,” she laughed, gearing herself up for what came next. “If you could quit talking for like, two seconds, that’d also be great, because kissing is sort of difficult when the person you’re trying to kiss won’t stop flapping their yap.”

“Flapping my yap.”

“You heard me.”

“God, I hope this kiss sucks. I’m not sure I’m ready to commit myself to someone who refers to my mouth as a yap.” Even with his eyes closed, she could tell Max was joking. It was in his tone, in the quirk of his lips, but she knew what he meant - this was a heck of a line they were tiptoeing right now, and no amount of doofy jokes and elbow jabs could change that.

“Yeah, well,” Laura began, bouncing her front teeth against her lower lip for a moment before she did the dang thing and leaned in. “Join the club, Brinly, because I’m not sure I want to be with someone who talks about my super private cootie status in public.”

She’d fully expected him to have some sort of retort to that, but it seemed he was taking ground rule number three very, very seriously, because all he did was sort of laugh. No excuses, then, no time for second thoughts. Laura let her eyes fall shut as she pressed her lips to his, let her breath catch in her chest as she waited for the inevitable lightning strike or disappointed slide whistle or firework explosion overhead, and...

“Okay, um, ow, wait, hang on.” Promptly mashed her nose against his. “Sorry, my bad, just, uh...okay.”

“So much for ground rule number o - ”

Only the second time was the charm, it seemed. She felt one of Max’s hands slide to her shoulder as she moved her lips against his, but for a moment that’s all there was. He didn’t push her back, didn’t pull her closer, just let his hand rest there on the curve of her shoulder as the kiss slowly ended and they broke apart.

“Uh, so?” she asked, keeping her voice almost whisper-low since they were so close to one another, their lips still nearly close enough to brush. “What’s the verdict?”

Max cleared his throat once, twice, and then swallowed so hard that she could hear it click. “I don’t know what to tell you,” he started, “I think, uh...I think maybe we should do that again, actually. Just to...just to be sure, y’know?”

Her stomach dipped with disappointment for all of a moment...before she understood what he’d meant. “Oh yeah?” Laura laughed, letting her eyes flutter shut again as the hand on her shoulder slid up and up to cup her cheek. “Well, anything to be sure, I guess...” Then they were kissing again, and again, and again, and the answer they’d been looking for seemed pretty clear.

#icequeen-07 #six sentence weekend #queenie writes supermassive #the quarry #OKAY SO LIKE #apparently we share some kind of chilly-queen-based wavelength here bc i gotta be honest ive................#ive been thinking about writing something. along these lines. for like. a week. and just couldnt pull myself away from other projects #sOOOOOOO. HMMMMMMMM.

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seasonsofeverlark · 3 years

Text

The Dare

Author: @always-andshewrites

Prompt: CHOOSE ONE (or combine with the visual): So @heathersaid posted the above picture and it go me thinking, imagine Katniss buying this because she wants to bring home the bakery smell but also hiding it from Peeta because she doesn’t know how he will react and she doesn’t want to admit she misses him when he’s gone but one day he comes home early… Rated M or E Any genre except Angst: fluff, humor, comfort PostMJ or Modern universe Any trope but I would be curious about a friends or enemies to lovers OR As I was typing my previous ask, another one popped into my head LOL: A proposal story where Peeta realizes Katniss is serious about their relationship after she buys the candle below because she wants his smell at all time. He decides to propose on Valentine’s Day so now they can celebrate the date since Katniss is anti-Valentines Day M or E rating, fluffy 😊 [submitted by @just-a-girl16]

Rating: M (Minor sexual situations & language)

Summary: Peeta has loved Katniss from the first moment he saw her and wants to spend the rest of his life with her. Katniss has always made her feelings on marriage clear. But Peeta buys a ring and keeps it close by at all times…just in case. And “just in case” just so happens to be tonight. Everlark-Valentine’s Day-Proposal

Author’s Notes: This fic is dedicated to my dear friend…I’m sorry for your pain and I hope this fluffy story works as a little band-aid. You know who you are. _______________

“Are ya listenin’ to me, Peeta? Because what I’m ‘bout to tell ya is important. Maybe the most important words you’ll ever hear.”

My seven-year-old self eagerly nods my head up and down as my grandpa swoops me off the ground, swinging me in the air, and then plopping me down on his knee. Grandpa narrows his eyes seriously at me, and I try my best to return his gaze.

“Now, listen and listen good, son, cause I won’t be ‘round forever.” I nod again, so Grandpa knows he has my full attention. “If you don’t remember anything I’ve taught ya, then ya gotta remember this. The best things in life require an abundance of patience, persistence, and hard work. Do you know what those words mean?”

I press a finger to my chin and look up as I repeat the words in my head.

“Patience means you wait for something calmly, sometimes for a long time,” Grandpa says.

“Oh! Like when Daddy’s baking cookies and I have to wait for the timer to go ‘ding’. And then I have to wait for them to get cooled,” I say, lighting up with a smile at having correlated the two.

“Yeah, something like that. Anyway. Persistence means you don’t give up. And well, hard work, that word is self-explanatory.” Grandpa pauses, his wrinkled lips forming into a straight line. “What I’m trying to tell you, Peeta, is anything worth fighting for don’t come easy. You see, one day, son, you’ll meet a woman who’ll make you crazy. She’ll turn your world upside down and inside-out. She won’t take none of your crap. That’s the kind of woman you hold on to. And if she tries to be slippery, then you fight for her with all you got. You prove yourself to be worthy. But most importantly, Peeta, remember that she’s always right.”

I smile at the memory, wondering if my grandfather somehow had a glimpse into the future. At seven years old his words only served to confuse me. At the time, girls were gross and had cooties, and I simply could not fathom the idea of chasing after any girl. For so many years I thought of the last words the wisest man I had ever known had given me. And for so many years they never quite made sense.

That is, until I met the love of my life. My best friend, my soul mate, my other half. The woman Grandpa described to me as a child summed Katniss up to a tee. She was like a wild animal, free, untamed, and lived by no one’s rules but her own. And she wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. However, with Grandpa’s advice of patience, persistence, and an abundance of hard work, I finally got her to crack.

And here I am, three years later; my relationship with Katniss stronger than ever.

I make the turn onto Seam Street and park my car outside of Katniss’s apartment complex. I reach into my pocket for my phone to let Katniss know I’m coming up, but then decide to surprise her instead.

Katniss and I are supposed to meet at District 12, her favorite restaurant for our “Valentine’s Day Dinner Date,” but I left my wallet on her nightstand. I get out of my car and reach into my other pocket, grinning from ear to ear when I feel the tiny black velvet box.

Eager to set eyes on my mighty huntress, I take the steps two at a time and feel the vibration of someone’s blaring music.

“Uh-oh,” I say, wondering if the music is coming from Katniss’s apartment. She has the tendency to blast her music when she gets in one of her “deep cleaning” moods, or if she’s stressed out. I’m hoping it’s the former.

Once I reach the door to her apartment, I fetch my keys and let myself in, only to get blasted by her music when I open the door. I quietly close the door behind me, not that she can hear me, anyway, and toe my shoes off. When I turn around, my heart swells inside my chest at the sight before me.

“I was wondering where those boxers went,” I mutter to myself through a grin. Katniss is still oblivious to my presence, so I take a moment just to admire her. She’s rocking my favorite pair of orange boxers, along with one of my shirts as she dance-vacuums her way around the living room.

But that isn’t what has my heart pounding so hard in my chest. It’s the subtle aroma radiating from beneath the flickering flame of the candle perched on the kitchen table. I inhale deeply, and my nostrils are filled with the refined scent of artificial vanilla. Maybe sugar cookies? Or perhaps cupcakes.

Ready to make my presence known, I sneak up behind Katniss, wrapping my arms around her waist and kissing her cheek. Katniss nearly leaps in the air from my sudden touch.

Her smile could literally light up the room, and if my heart could smile, I think it would, knowing that I am the cause of that smile. She reaches for the remote and powers off the music, then circles her arms around my neck.

“What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at the restaurant,” she mumbles into my neck.

“I missed you, and well, I forgot my wallet,” I tell her, inhaling another whiff of vanilla. “What is that? Did you bake something?” I ask, knowing good and well it’s the candle.

“Oh, huh…what?” Katniss gives me a bemused expression just before her eyes go wide with realization. Quickly, she zips across the room to the kitchen table and promptly blows out a puff of air, extinguishing the flame from the candle.

“What’d you do that for? I thought it smelled good. When did you start burning candles, anyway?”

Katniss shrugs her shoulders dismissively. “The apartment was smelling musty. Opening the windows didn’t work, neither did air freshener, so I grabbed a candle at the grocery store.”

“Okay,” I tell her, giving her a kiss on the cheek and not pressing the issue. Then I head into the kitchen to get a cup of water. It’s hard, very hard to keep my lips from stretching across my face, but somehow, I manage it.

I make my way back to the living room and plop down on the sofa. I set my glass on the side table and check my watch. “I need to run home and get a few things done. Do you want to meet at District 12, or do you want me to swing by and pick you up?”

Katniss’s body seems to slump at my statement. “Actually, I was thinking,” she begins, twirling the end of her braid—something I know she does when she’s nervous. “Since you’re already here, maybe we should just…um, take one car. I mean—unless you need to do your things right now.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” I beam, finally allowing my lips to curve into the cheesy grin they’ve been dying to since the moment I got here. Then I motion with my finger for her to come here. I didn’t actually have errands to attend to; I just wanted to leave Katniss’s options open, but to say I am elated would be a drastic understatement.

Katniss’s face lights up with a grin as she sprints to the couch and pounces right into my lap, straddling a leg on either side of my hips. Then she hooks her arms around my neck, pressing her mouth—and her body, flush against mine. I part my lips, welcoming the assault from her tongue. In the moment of heated kisses, I reach around and feel my way up Katniss’s back, digging my fingers deep into her muscles, which results in a moan, a sigh, and a groan of pleasure escaping from her lips.

“My God, how are you so good at that? And how do you always know the right spots?” Katniss grinds into me, readily accepting my wet kisses against her neck.

I know I’m going to hate myself for this, but I spent too much time preparing for tonight to just stay in with my girlfriend. Even if it feels so damn good…

“Katniss…I—we should—”

“Mmm hmm,” she moans, vibrating against my lips. Dammit.

“Go get dressed, baby—um…dinner. Plans…remember?” I manage to stumble out, hopefully enough words for her to understand my meaning.

“I don’t mind if we skip dinner,” she says, pressing her chest to mine as she teases my neck with kisses.

If I don’t stop her now we’ll never make it out of here, so I grab her hands and lock my eyes with hers. “Go get ready, and I promise to fully satisfy all of your hunger needs tonight. Trust me, I have big plans for you.”

Her eyes darken, and the corner of her lip twitches into a smirk. “Oh, do you now?” she says, hopping off my lap, and I give her ass a smack before she runs off to her room.

“How fancy is this place?” Katniss shouts from her bedroom.

“Nice enough to wear a dress,” I call back, not wanting to give too much away.

“What kind of dress, though? Like…dinner-with-your-mother-kind-of-dress, or—”

“No, no. Not that kind,” I jump in, feeling slightly queasy at the thought.

“Oh, thank God.” Katniss exhales a sigh of relief, her thought process mirroring my own.

“Okay, I’m ready. What do you think?” About half an hour later, Katniss comes traipsing down the hall, twirling once when she reaches the living room.

My jaw falls slack at the sight of my girlfriend. I knew she would look stunning in a dress—I find her glamorous in her PJ’s. But Katniss has somehow managed to dress in my favorite—everything. From the flowing, dark emerald green dress that stops just above her knees, to the matching, open-toed sandals on her feet. I can’t take my eyes off her as she models the open-backed dress for me, exposing her beautiful olive-toned skin with the nearly transparent straps that cling to her shoulders. But I’m the only one who knows this because of the dress’s matching shawl that hangs loosely draped across her shoulders.

But the real gem of the evening is hanging around her neck and between her perfect, and slightly protruding, collar bones is the necklace I gave her on our three-year anniversary. Her hair lacks its usual braid, instead it hangs loose in deep, thick waves, pulled around to one side of her shoulder.

“W-wow,” I manage to stutter. “Y-you’re so beautiful,” I tell her, closing the distance between us and kissing her full on the lips. Katniss has never been the type of woman that spends hours primping in front of a mirror, but she doesn’t need to. Katniss is naturally perfect and beautiful without the added makeup, hair product, and artificial enhancements that so many women spend fortunes on. However, all she has to do is put forth the least bit of effort and it puts her over the top—beyond magnificent.

“Are you ready?” Katniss asks, motioning toward the door.

…..

“I liked your new candle,” I say with a knowing, crooked grin from the seat across from my girlfriend at her favorite restaurant. District 12 serves the best lamb stew with wild rice and dried plums.

“About that,” Katniss hesitates, pulling her hands out of mine. Her right hand automatically reaches up to twirl a lock of her hair, a sign that she’s nervous. “I have a…sort of confession.”

I reach back over and grab onto Katniss’s hands, locking my eyes on the gorgeous, stunning beauty that is my girlfriend. “Sort of?” I ask, feeling a wave of heat prickle up my back. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad,” Katniss rushes to say, squeezing my hands for reassurance. “It’s about the um…candle.” I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I know in my heart of hearts that Katniss loves me, but there is always this tiny little pestering voice in the back of my head, which oftentimes takes on the voice of my mother. And the voice is constantly trying to make me second guess myself. “I um…well, it’s just that…if I tell you this you better not make fun of me.”

“Katniss.” I pull back with narrowed eyes, slightly offended at the insinuation.

“I know, I know, but I…I just had to say it. But well…it’s just that sometimes I miss you.” Katniss shrugs her shoulders, refusing to meet my eyes. “And I bought the candle because the smell reminded me of you. And so, when I’m missing you and can’t see you, the candle kind of…tides me over until I do get to see you.” Katniss breathes a sigh of relief at her confession. “See, I told you it was stupid.”

I squeeze Katniss’s hands, then lean over the table to get closer to her. “Katniss, it isn’t stupid at all. It’s no different than when I steal that giant sweatshirt you sometimes sleep in. Or when I don’t want to wash my pillow cases because they smell like you.”

“I love you, Peeta,” Katniss says with darkening cheeks and eyes. Then she leans forward, her lips melting into mine.

…..

“Are we there?” Katniss asks anxiously for the third time.

“Almost, baby,” I tell her as I lead her down the narrow and winding path. I can’t believe she actually let me blindfold her; I guess it’s just one more affirmation that tonight will go as planned.

Finally, we’ve reached our destination, and I slow us down to a stop, planting a soft kiss on her cheek. “Tell me something, Katniss, what do you smell?”

“Huh?” She asks, her face scrunching up in confusion.

“Just because you can’t see doesn’t mean you can’t…see,” I tell her. “Use your other senses, Katniss,” I explain after her continued bewildered expression.

Katniss inhales a deep, cleansing breath through her nose. “I smell…” she begins, still absorbing her surroundings. She takes another deep breath, recognition filling her features. “Trees!” she finally exclaims. “And…birds…chirping high up in the trees…and…branches swaying. Squirrels…Peeta, are we…are we in the woods?” She asks, unable to contain the glee from her voice.

“Are you ready?” I ask her.

Katniss doesn’t respond; instead, she impatiently yanks the blindfold over her head. I can barely make out her disappointed expression through the darkness.

I click the tiny little button in my pocket before she has time to utter a single word. Then suddenly, everything around us transforms into the most beautiful sight. Katniss gasps as she looks around, taking it all in. At first, I can tell she’s overwhelmed by the thousands and thousands of white, twinkling lights. I spent much of the week stringing the lights—everywhere. Over the fence, wrapped around trees; there are even lights outlining a path on the ground that leads to a set of steps. It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust, but I know the exact moment she realizes where we are.

“Oh my God, Peeta!” she croons, turning to face me and circling her arms around my neck. “We’re at…you brought me to Mockingjay Park. This is…it’s where my dad would bring me when I was a little girl!” she cries, pressing her lips to mine and pulling me closer. “I just…I love it and it’s the most amazing surprise; it’s just…I kind of wish I knew beforehand, so I could’ve brought my bow.”

“You mean…” I’m more than thankful I thought ahead as I reach behind me, seemingly producing Katniss’s bow out of thin air, along with the quiver containing the sheath of arrows.

Katniss’s emotion seems to burst inside her, and she jumps into my arms, hugging her legs around my waist. I grab onto her, cupping my hand under her ass so she doesn’t fall, and she attacks my mouth with kisses. “Every time I think I can’t possibly love you any more…every time you do something amazing, and I think: “There’s no way he can top this,” and you go and prove me wrong. I love you, Peeta Mellark. I swear, I fucking love you,” she professes, locking her hands around my neck and tangling her fingers through my hair.

Eventually, she wiggles out of my arms, excited to finally be able to use her bow.

“We’ve got the entire park to ourselves for the next two hours,” I inform her, handing her the bow and arrows.

Katniss raises a brow. “You mean…”

I nod, unable to quell my goofy grin. “The entire park is ours; there isn’t a single soul for miles. So…why don’t you take your shoes off, and let’s walk to the range.”

Katniss doesn’t need to be told twice. She kicks her heels off, and together, we walk across the field and toward the row of targets.

“This is too easy; I think we need to up the ante,” I call out to Katniss after thirty minutes of watching her hit bullseye after bullseye.

“What do you suggest?” Katniss turns around, smirking at the compliment.

I get up and make my way toward the target, and this confuses Katniss.

“Wh—Peeta, what are you doing? Get back over here.”

Katniss holds her position at the fifty-foot mark by the time I’ve reached the target. When I first made these Valentine’s plans for Katniss, I never intended on proposing. It was supposed to be just like any other ordinary date night. But Katniss’s confession at dinner is what changed my mind. I just didn’t know how I’d do it until now.

With my back pressed against the target, I hold my head up high, brazen with a confidence I didn’t realize I possessed. Then, my hand plunges into my pocket and digs out the small, velvety box that contains Katniss’s precious ring. Quickly, before I lose my nerve, I pull the box out and place it on my head. “You’re going to hit this target.” I state firmly. Confidently.

“Peeta—what? No—no, you’re nuts,” Katniss says, shaking her head dismissively.

“What? You don’t think you can do it? I thought you were up for a challenge?” I can’t help but taunt her.

She takes the bait. I see the flaring of her nostrils; I can almost see the steam shooting from her ears as her knuckles turn white from gripping tighter onto her bow.

“Fine!” Katniss hisses back. “But it’s your funeral,” she says with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Katniss,” I call out as she readies herself. She spins around on her heels, meeting my eyes.

“Yes?”

“I trust you.”

The corners of her lips slowly curve up into a mischievous grin. If there is one thing I know about Katniss, it’s that she is literally incapable of refusing a dare. And that’s basically what I just did. I dared her.

I straighten my back, so it’s flat against the target as I admire my beautiful, amazing, and talented girlfriend. I’ve seen her do this a million times, yet somehow, she amazes me every single time.

Suddenly, the butterflies in my stomach feel as if they have just grown claws, flapping their wings and filling me with so much love for this woman as they search for an escape. My heart is pounding against my chest, but my anxiety is not about whether or not she’ll hit me, but what her answer will be.

I decide to focus all my attention on Katniss as she goes through her routine. She always stands taller on the first inhale, the one that steadies her nerves. I envision her lungs expanding with the fresh, winter air. Then, she holds the precious gas in place for a moment before pursing her lips, slowly releasing the remaining oxygen, all her anxiety dissipating along with it. Then I watch intently as Katniss mouths the words, “One, two, three.” Her beautiful, delicate fingers pull the bowstring tight, and then, just like that, the arrow is released into the air, soaring, flying, gliding—and headed straight toward my head.

The arrow soars gracefully as it glides through the air. My heart accelerates as it gains speed, the space between myself and the arrow shortening, lessening, yet I am not the least bit afraid. My eyes remain locked on a frozen Katniss when the arrow slams into its target, impaling the little black box above my head. How I did not so much as flinch as the arrow made its impact goes to show my trust in the beautiful woman—who is now hauling ass toward me.

It feels like it happens in slow motion. Katniss doesn’t wait for the arrow to make impact, but rather, the second it’s released into the air, her bow and quiver of arrows crash to the ground. Fear is written all over her face; it’s as if she’s only just now realized what she’s done. Then she’s running full force, making a beeline straight toward me, trying to outrun the arrow.

In the time it takes her to run to me, I’ve already removed the arrow from the “target,” inspected the contents of the ring box, and slammed the lid closed.

“You stupid, stupid, idiot!” she screams, cries, slamming into me and crashing us to the ground. She pulls back for a second, scanning my body for injuries before pinning me back to the ground and slamming her lips against mine. “I could have killed you; you could have died! I can’t lose you, Peeta. Do you know what that would do to me? Don’t you ever, ever, ever do that again!”

Katniss is crying so hard that it’s brought on the hiccups, and she’s struggling to breathe. “Katniss, baby, calm down. I’m okay, I’m fine. I was never in any danger. Don’t you see? I trust you with my life.” I hold her face firmly in my hands, forcing her to look into my eyes. But her shiny, glassy eyes and tear-streaked face is filled with sheer terror, which is like a knife in my gut. I really hadn’t expected her to react this way.

Katniss collapses on top of me, resting her head on my chest. Realizing that in all the commotion I dropped the ring box, I look around until I spot the box, and quickly scoop it up.

“Come here, sit up,” I tell her, pulling us up into a sitting position. She sniffles but complies.

We’re sitting Indian Style across from each other on the grass. I’ve got the box clutched firmly in my hand when my mouth seems to start moving on its own. “Katniss, I…I know you never wanted this. You told me so on our first date. But, Katniss, I—there’s no me without you. I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone—only you. Just you.” This isn’t going anything like I planned it, even though I didn’t actually plan it. For someone who is so good with words, I’m a blubbering mess. So, I release my grip on the box and open my hand to Katniss.

She takes the box, then looks up at me, her stormy, gray eyes wide with shock, her mouth agape. “P-Peeta?” she questions.

“Katniss, please, just…just let me,” I beg her, and she nods. “Katniss, you are my other half. My soul mate. You complete me. Everything about you is perfect, and I wouldn’t change a single thing about you. And even if you don’t want to get married, that’s fine. I’d be happy and content to continue as we have been. But I was hoping…thinking that maybe you felt the same way.”

There is a pregnant pause as she continues staring at me. My heart feels like it’s going to explode out of my chest as I await her response. “P-Peeta, a-are you ask—?”

I nod, and the smile that stretches across her face could light up this entire park. “You have to say it, Peeta. You have to ask the question if you want an answer.” She grins.

I know what she means. She wants me to do it right. So, I pull myself off the ground, crouching on a single knee and taking the black box from her hand. I open it, so it’s facing her, and ask the million-dollar question.

“Katniss Everdeen, my best friend, my other half, the love of my life, will you make me the happiest man in all the galaxies and take me as your husband? Put up with me when I’m smelly and grumpy, and allow me to make you cheese buns for the rest of our days?”

Tears are streaming down her cheeks, and she can’t seem to get rid of the ear-splitting grin breaking her face as she nods her head fiercely up and down. Then she offers her hand to me, her fingers equidistantly spaced apart so that I can slide the ring onto her finger.

Once the ring is on, she brings it closer to her face to inspect it and says, “It’s perfect.” Then, she once again tackles me to the ground. With a leg straddled on either side of my hips, she pins my hands on either side of my face and presses her lips to mine.

“So, what are we going to do with our last hour?” She whispers into my ear.

To be continued…

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #winter #winter 2022 #valentine's day #always-andshewrites #submission #prompt

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