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emberfrostlovesloki · 9 months

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Not Your Girl [Emily x Reader]

Photo credits: Left and Right (@sugarcoatedvein) Center (@lilacprentiss)

Prompt: When the Non-BAU!reader has something big to tell Emily, they pick the worst way to tell her.

Pairing: Emily x nonbinary!reader. The reader is AFAB and uses they/them pronouns for most of the story.

Category: fluff/comfort

Word Count: 2.9K

Content Warnings: Mentions of bad gym culture, mention of fitness and exercise, a slightly fatphobic comment [directed at Penelope by a gym bro], breakups, light drinking, and swearing. If I missed any, please let me know.

A/N: Just some fluffy reader coming out to Emily as nonbinary and them reflecting about the course of their relationship. This is another @imagining-in-the-margins post based on the fabulous January and February writing challenge. This one is from her dialog prompts: “I love every iteration of you.” I just know Emily would support you no matter what. I am glad this isn’t a novel. I love my longer work, but this was a nice change. I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you do enjoy this, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you have a great end of your week. Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories

_y/n_ = your name

_l/n_ = your last name

_y/f/c_ = your favorite color

_y/d/h_ = your dominant hand

_y/j_ = your job

_y/f/s_ = your favorite show

“Emily, I don’t think I can be your girl anymore.” The look on Prentiss’s face told _y/n_ instantly that they’d phrased that wrong. With Emily being such a chronic overthinker, it was a poor choice of phrase. _y/n_ saw the look of insecurity and maybe sadness play out on Em’s face, and before _y/n_ could say anything, Prentiss asked, “Are you breaking up with me, _y/n? I thought we were doing good/” _y/n_ shook their head no rapidly and said, “Em. I’m not saying that at all, just let me explain.” Em sat back in her kitchen chair, crossed her arms over her chest, and said, “Please do,” _y/n_ took a deep breath. They knew Emily loved them. Had loved them for nearly a year, and the reactions _y/n_ was getting made sense given Emily’s past of being dumped just when a relationship seemed to be working out. However, the defensive wall _y/n_’s partner had so easily thrown up after months of breaking them down now had _y/n_ concerned. What if Emily wouldn’t love them like this? Emily’s hyper-focus on details and consistency was rubbing off on _y/n_and made them question whether or not to share the truth. But in a second, their whole relationship up till that point flashed before _y/n_’s eyes. It had started in the gym.

It was all thanks to Penelope, who had made a New Year's resolution to move more. Nothing more than that. No weight loss goals, no need for a summer body, just a desire to move because it felt good. Emily was happy to help Garcia out because she had made a bet with Derek in October about the upcoming FBI fitness test in March. Prentiss had overheard Morgan telling another male agent, who was overconfident and under-muscled for the claims he was making, that he was going to beat all of his personal bests in the fitness test. Emily scoffed and said, “Really Derek. You say that every year.” Morgan looked over to Em and replied with a teasing tone, “And I mean it every year. You wanna make a bet on it?” Prentiss knew this was all in good fun, and said, “You’re on. What are the terms?” Derek steepled his hands and replied, “If I don’t get personal best’s next exam, then you can set me up on a blind date. But, the same goes for you. You’ve got to beat all of your personal records, and if you don’t, then I set you up on a blind date.” Emily smiled because this was the exact kind of shenanigans they got into when she was more relaxed between cases. It gave both her and Morgan something to think about outside of work. Prentiss stuck out her, and Derek took it while saying, “You’re on.” So, when Penelope talked about wanting to move more, Emily recommended the Zumba class she took on Saturday evenings. Penelope was hesitant at first, but when Em described it as “angry dancing,” Garcia got on board quickly.

Emily hadn’t believed in Zumba either, that was until her pilates class got canceled one day. Zumba was the only class on offer and despite her hesitations, Prentiss went. Prentiss was so happy that she did because the class turned out to be very relaxing and a good workout at the same time. It didn’t hurt that the person next to her was very cute in their _y/f/c_ crop top and long socks. Prentiss started coming back to Zumba more and more, and the young woman was always there just vibing with the music no matter what was going on. Their positivity was infectious. When Penelope joined the class for a session a week later, Emily and the tech genius had a great time. So good a time that they agreed to go to drinks after because what was the point of working out if you couldn’t have some fun as a reward? As the duo passed by the weight room, one of the gym bros waiting for a squat rack to open up looked over at Emily and said, “Hey babe, wanna come over here and spot me? And maybe you should tell Blondie to come back sometime. She might fit in here.” Emily was so mad that the man had commented about her friend, who was happy and healthy, that she just froze. The man laughed at Penelope’s hurt face, but a voice from behind Emily and Garcia wiped the smile off his face real quick as _y/n_ said, “Hey, asshole. Let me tell you something. Muscles don’t fucking mean anything if there’s not a heart underneath all of them. So keep pumping iron, but consider getting a brain and some self-awareness before commenting on someone you don’t know and is a hell of a lot braver than you because she showed up despite having to deal with dickheads like you.” At _y/n_’s comments, both Emily and Penelope looked at _y/n_ with wide, impressed eyes. Emily knew _y/n_ immediately. It was the woman she had been secretly admiring for a month now. The woman’s beauty was amplified as she demonstrated not only energy, but didn't tolerate bad behavior, and standing up for someone she didn’t know. When the guy at the rack moved toward them, particularly toward _y/n_ with a frown on his face. Emily stepped in front of _y/n_ and said with all the authority of an FBI profiler, “Sit down.” The man hesitated. Finally, he moved back to where he was with his head down, muttering under his breath.

While Em was using her scary dog privileges, _y/n_ pulled Penelope toward the stairs saying, “Don’t listen to that douch bag. You were great in class.” Garcia smiled and said, “Thanks. That was nice of you to say. I’m Penelope Garcia, by the way.” _y/n_ smiled and said, “I’m _y/n_, _l/n_. Nice to meet you, Penelope.” As they started talking, Emily joined them, and Garcia introduced _y/n_ to Prentiss. Pen asked _y/n_ if she wanted to join them for drinks. _y/n_ who hadn’t made many friends since moving to D.C., agreed. As _y/n_ and changed in the dressing room, _y/n_ couldn’t help but look at Emily and admire her strength. _y/n_ had been looking at Emily since she’d joined the class. Unfortunately, _y/n_ was terrible with flirting and asking people out, so the admiration had been one-sided. At least she thought it had been. At the bar, the trio’s conversation was natural and easy. More than that, Penelope could see how Emily was looking at and talking to _y/n_ like she was the most important thing there. When _y/n_ had gone to the restroom, Garcia had said, “Emily if you don’t ask her out at the end of this get-together, I’m going to scream.” Prentiss retorted, “Pen, I just know her from the gym and this meeting. Don’t you think that’s moving a little fast?” Garcia smiled, now knowing for sure that Emily liked _y/n_. The tech replied, “Emily's life is short, if she says no, then you can move your pining elsewhere.” Garcia took a long sip of her Cosmo before adding on, “ By the way _y/n_ was giving you the same big doe eyes you were giving her, so…” And that was how _y/n_ had been asked out on a date by Emily.

The first date was at a local farmers market. _y/n_ and Emily strolled the stalls, got lemonade, and sat in the shade as a local band played in the background. They talked about their hobbies and dating preferences. That was there _y/n_ had learned that Em was mostly dating women at this point in her life. And Prentiss had learned that _y/n_ was new to dating women. They’d said, “I’m just trying to figure everything out. I hope that doesn’t sound dismissive. I just want to be honest, when it comes to dating, sometimes I don’t know what I’m doing, But if you’re willing to put up with me, I’d enjoy figuring it out with you.” Emily had agreed, and they went on a second and third date. Over time _y/n_ learned about the team and why Emily could be so serious sometimes and more relaxed when she was not on a case.

One night at _y/n_’s house, while cooking dinner, _y/n_ admitted, “You know, I didn’t realize that dating and being interested in women was an option until way later in my life. I feel like I spent years looking for the perfect person and love at first sight, but I wasn’t ever looking in the right place.” Em nodded as she stirred the pasta in with the sauce; she replied, “I get it. Being sheltered does things to you that other people might not understand. It was such a relief to me when I figured out I could just like both. And it was more of a relief when I realized that dating doesn’t have to end in disappointment.” _y/n_ wrapped their arms around Emily’s waist and kissed the agent’s neck saying, “I’m happy too, Emily.” _y/n_ had heard Prentiss lightly reference her hesitation about dating a few times, and _y/n_ wondered if there was more to the story. _y/n_ felt that it was far enough in their relationship and asked, “Em, would you tell me what happened? Why you were so averse to dating when we met?” Prentiss turned to _y/n_ and sighed before saying, “I guess I owe you an explanation about why I seemed too hot and cold and the beginning there.” Em turned off the heat on the stove and led _y/n_ to the table. Once they sat across from each other, Emily said, “I was in a committed relationship for a year last year. I thought everything was perfect. The girl, my life, work. I thought I’d finally figured it out. I was going to propose. And then a case happened. A bad one. I got hurt. I called my then-partner, and she was hysterical. I tried to make her feel better, but she wouldn’t listen to me. She was so attached that the idea of me being hurt, of me dying on the job pushed her away. When I got home, she was gone. She took all of her stuff. It was like she never existed. I tried to call her, but she never responded. And the thing is, I get it. Anything could happen. Not everyone can deal with those odds. I don’t blame her.” _y/n_ listened and felt sorry for Emily to have been abandoned like that. _y/n_ said, “You might have understood her reasoning, but she might have told you goodbye or explained. I’m sorry you went through that, Em. Just letting you know, I don’t plan on going anywhere.” Prentiss smiled and said, “Thanks _y/n_. Do you mean that even if I can’t cook?” _y/n_ tipped her head to the side and Emily, who was facing the stove said, “Because I turned off the wrong burner and that pasta is definitely burning.” Just as _y/n_ looked back at the smoking pan on the stove, the fire alarm went off. After _y/n_ and Emily handled the situation with the crispy food, they both laughed long and hard. Em took _y/n_ out to dinner instead, and that was where they’d made their relationship official. They moved on slowly, and to _y/n_’s words, she stuck with Em through the highs and lows. And Emily did the same for _y/n_. Weathering life together, they realized, was much more enjoyable than being alone. Even in the hard times and arguments. And this reassurance made _y/n_ feel strong enough to tell Em the whole truth.

All of the care and love that they had shared. All the late nights and early mornings. _y/n_ knew that that kind of love didn’t just go away because things changed. So _y/n_ took a deep breath and replied, “I can’t be your girl anymore because I think I’m… nonbinary.” The words hung there for a few seconds before Prentiss’s face changed from one of confusion to one of unbridled joy. Em put both of her hands across the table, and _y/n_ took them in hers. All Emily said was, “Really? For how long sweetheart?” Prentiss had noticed the subtle changes in _y/n_’s behavior and mannerisms. Of course, she had. But Emily didn’t want to read into things or press _y/n_ into talking about things she might not want to. _y/n_ took a breath and said, “Maybe a month or a little more. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but it finally clicked after we did that charity 5K with the team.” Prentiss nodded. That had been an interesting afternoon, but she didn’t realize how much it had meant to _y/n. _y/n_ looked at Emily’s face. Even though it was jubilant, _y/n_ had to make sure. Had to hear from Emily, and _y/n_ asked, “So you’re not upset? I know you prefer dating women, but I’m not that anymore I guess.” Emily pulled _y/n_’s hands to her mouth and kissed over both sets of _y/n_’s knuckles before saying, “Of course, I’m not upset, _y/n_. You’re telling me who you are. Who the real you is. That takes courage and reflection, and I love that about you. You never back down from a challenge or a hard thing. Even if that hard thing is understanding yourself.” _y/n_ wasn’t sure why Emily’s positive words were having such an effect on them, but _y/n_’s eyes teared up, and they had to pull _y/d/h_ out of Em’s to wipe them away with their shirt sleeve. _y/n_ laughed and said, “At least I’m still emotional as I’ve always been.” That had Prentiss laugh and say, “_y/n_. Just because you feel differently about your body or gender doesn’t mean you’re just going to change in an instant. If you feel like you need to make changes, then that will happen, but you’re still you. You’re still the person I love. I will always love.” Em took a breath, feeling emotional herself before she said, “I love every possible iteration of you.” _y/n_ sniffled and asked, “What did I ever do to deserve you, Em?” They were both beaming now, and Prentiss replied, “I could ask you the same thing, _y/n_. And you know we can play at compliments forever, but do you want to talk about this more? Or do you just want to be for a bit?” _y/n_ put their chin in their hand and said, “How about a bit of both? I feel like this could be a couch conversation.

Couch conversations were when _y/n_ and Emily sat and talked about their days. Em would talk about the office drama or the latest case, while _y/n_ dove into the details of _y/j_ and what was happening there. The couch was a place for relaxed conversation with _y/f/s_ playing in the background while they talked and laughed or complained together. Big conversations happened at the table. It was an unspoken system between them. Given Emily’s hectic and stressful life, it worked for them. As _y/n_ looked at Emily’s hand and they moved to the couch, _y/n_ wondered why they’d started this conversation at the kitchen table. _y/n_ tossed this choice, the table or the couch bounced in their head like a ping-pong ball. It was a big deal. This kind of discovery was, and talking about it with Emily was even more important, but at the same time, realizing this new facet of themself just felt like them. It finally felt like them. Because _y/n_ wasn’t sure what to make of it, they asked Prentiss because _y/n_’s partner always had something understanding to say. Sometimes _y/n_ thought Emily knew them better than they knew themself. _y/n_ chalked it up to the profiling. Once they were both seated and the TV was on low, _y/n_ asked, “Did I make this too big a deal?” Emily turned her head to _y/n_ and moved her hand to _y/n_’s jaw, stroking down _y/n_’s face. Even though Em had never had the feelings _y/n_ had about their gender, she had felt unsure about her sexuality. She understood how it felt like everything and nothing at the same time. Prentiss said, “Not at all, _y/n_. It wasn’t too big or too small. It’s important to you in the big way, and in the small mundane life things, and I’m excited to explore all of those intricacies with you. The highs and the lows. I am so excited to be with you no matter what. No matter who you are.” At that moment, _y/n_ fully understood that Emily knew them. And feeling known right now made _y/n_ feel like the most real version of themself as they’d ever been.

______________________________________________________________

Want to be added to my tag list? Please see this post, CM Tag List (linked)

Want to request a fic or mood board? My requests are open. Please see this post before requesting, CM Request Post (linked)

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staranon95 · 1 year

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Hello, DinCobb Nation!

Today's the first official day of the DinCobb Fall Fest Mini Big Bang! This event will feature a more theme oriented big bang as we enter the fall season. This includes but is not limited to:

Halloween - Costumes, trick o' treating, scary movies

Fall Aesthetic - Pumpkins, apples, colder weather

Spooky - Ghosts, monsters, hauntings

Other Fall Holidays: Rosh Hashanah, Día de Muertos, Diwali

Sign Ups Open

What is a mini big bang?

Well, it's like a big bang but smaller. The goal of this event is to have authors produce a fic that's between 2 and 5 thousand words. During one of the check-ins, authors submit fic drafts/summaries and artists will create something to go with the fic they were paired with.

Can I sign up as both an artist and an author?

Yes! There is the option to do both in this event.

What if I have other questions?

Feel free to ask a mod (either @cryptids-and-starlight or myself) OR check out additional details under the read more.

What's the event schedule?

The entire event will run from August 13 to November 17. For a larger break down, check the post out here.

Additional Event Information

Here are details for what will be expected of authors and artists in terms of contributions. This event is meant to be fun and low stakes for those who participate. If the information below does not answer any of your questions, please reach out to a mod and we can answer your question!

For Writers:

The fic must be about Din and Cobb, but authors are free to explore what that relationship looks like to them whether they're depicted as best friends, brothers in arms, lovers, queer platonic partners, and more.

2-5k word count. Although it is not limited to 5k.

A beta reader is highly recommended, though not a requirement. If you need help finding a beta reader, please reach out and we will do our best to connect you with one.

Workshopping will be allowed and encouraged in public discord servers and elsewhere, just refrain from sharing the whole fic with anyone but your beta reader(s) and artist.

All fics must be thoroughly and properly tagged and rated. This is the one hard rule that will be enforced, as it is something that protects both artists and readers

All fics must be posted to AO3 and included in the event collection (DinCobb Fall Fest Mini Big Bang). You may cross post to tumblr if you would like to, too! More info about posting requirements to come at a later date.

For Artists:

One art piece is required for each fic. But you are encouraged to do more if you would like.

Art can be anything as long as the artist and author agree to the medium of choice which can include any of the following: gif sets, music vids, playlists, podfic, moodboards, artwork, etc.

Art should be kept between artist and author (unless you need advice on anatomy or help with audio edits or something, in which case please keep it between the artist and whoever is helping out)

Other Topics:

Dropping will not incur a formal penalty. It is heavily encouraged you reach out to the appropriate people (ie. a mod) ASAP so a pitch hitter can be found in a timely manner.

The last drop out day with no questions asked is September 30. If you need to drop out past this day, inform a mod immediately. Keep in mind that extensions can also be made if it is needed.

Things that may get you removed from the event include: not including proper tags/ratings, not responding in a timely manner during check-ins or if a mod reaches out to you, harassing other participants in any way whatsoever

#dincobb #din djarin #cobb vanth #mandalorian #dincobb mini big bang #info

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rockmiyabideusexmachina · 2 years

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Megaman Battle Network Legacy Collection Art Countdown Event!

Hi everyone, I'm back with more! I'm so sorry, I was hoping to get this started a bit earlier, but better late than never.

With the clock ticking down, we are getting ever closer to the release date of the Megaman Battle Network Legacy Collection, which launches on April 14th. And to help celebrate that, while enjoying some memories of the series, we are going to have a little art countdown event.

Read on after the break for the event rundown.

How will this work?

Well, for starters this is an open signup, welcome to artists of any skill level. The signup will consist of you choosing one single Net Navi, virus, boss or human character from the Battle Network/EXE franchise that you would like to draw. It will be first come, first serve. Once a character has been chosen, nobody else will be able to take them. Cross Fused/Soul Unison/Cross characters will be considered their own unique character to choose from.

To go along with the character you choose, we will also require a secondary Battle Network-related prompt to include with your character. This could be any battle chip/weapon/attack/Program Advance for a Navi, such as Kawarimi or Hi Cannon. It could be a location, such as MaHa Ichiban or SciLab, that you draw as a background. It can be a reference to an anime episode, such as baseball outfits, Neko virus or swimsuits at the hot springs. Etc., etc.

Your character and prompt do not have to match something we have seen in the games/anime. So that way, we can have unlimited fun with it! So if you wanted to draw Meijin-san in the Aki idol outfit from the anime, or disco agent outfit Mariko-sensei, that is allowed! Create a Zoano-form for a Navi that never was in Beast or Cross Fuse a pair that never showed up in Stream. This is up to your imagination. I will list a few example prompts, but feel free to come up with your own.

Since I failed and am behind on launching this, I'm not sure if we will be able to post art for a full 30 days before the game's launch on Friday, April 14th. We can still try, if we have some fast artists and enough people join in. But the goal will be to have the first pieces submitted and ready to post 21 days before (March 24th), giving us 3 weeks of content counting down until the game's release date.

Between @tentokki and myself, we are going to try to keep a public spreadsheet of what has been taken updated and as current as possible as people sign up. This first day or so might be a little messy as we try to see who called who first and get everything initially set up, so try to have a backup option or two ready. While I am opening this up tonight, I might not be able to get back to everyone to update this list until tomorrow afternoon, as a disclaimer. Appreciate your patience! Please try to watch through the replies to ensure someone hasn't already called out your choice first. Once you have gotten the OK in a reply back and are added to the list, you are on the clock to begin working on your art.

There will not be a hard deadline for everyone to start out, but we will need at least one person done and ready before March 24th. Please choose a realistic deadline for yourself between March 23rd-April 14th, so that we can assign you to post on that specific day.

TLDR; When signing up, we need: 1.) A character 2.) A BN related-prompt included in your art 3.) Your own chosen deadline date between 3/24 - 4/14/2023

(View confirmed sign ups on this spreadsheet)

When you are finished, please send your art to me via DM or email [rock2125(at)hotmail(dot)com], and we will make sure you are set up a day for you to post your art. Then, when we hit that March 24th date, we will begin the countdown by having artists post their pic to their Twitter/tumblr, asking you to use the hashtag #MMBNLCCountdown in your post, along with stating the number of days remaining until the collection's release.

If we get enough participants, then some days we might have more than 1 piece of art posted. Sky and I will then be reblogging/retweeting your posts each day, so that the focus is on your account and art. We'll continue counting down with new art each day until we reach the game's release.

What's in it for you?

Well, besides hopefully having fun and reminscing a bit, I will also once again hold a prize/prize money raffle to give away copies of the game (standard version) for those who complete a pic. But once again, like the Valentine's Event, you will only be eligible for this raffle if you sign up, submit your art to me, and complete your art in time.

Already preordered it? Well, I'll instead offer you the cash to cover what you paid, if your name is drawn. As always, please have a valid Paypal account to receive your winnings. Total amount of prize winners not set in stone, but likely at least 6.

How to sign up! Sorry if I was not totally clear when I first posted this yesterday in my haste to get it online, but please either comment on this post, the Twitter post, or send a DM with your choices to sign up. Once again, please check the spreadsheet to see what has been taken already. The spreadsheet linked above is publicly viewable, but you are not editing or signing up on there. That is just for everyone’s reference as I officially confirm each sign up.

We will begin to assign people days to post as we get closer to the March 24th date. If you finish early, before your estimated deadline, still send it in via DM/email to me. The more people are done before March 24th, the easier it will be to organize and set up people to post on specific countdown days between 3/24-4/14.

As always, any questions, feel free to ask! First time trying this format, so we'll see how it works out!

Example Prompts (feel free to use one of these or your own!):

Devil Chip Idol Outfit Ghosts! Pink Squirrel Neko Virus Summa DIS Whiskey Astronaut Suit Hot Springs Disco Outfit Baseball Uniform Buttferfly Net Car Race Star Potter Red Carpet Copyroid Curry Humor Program Zoo animals Plunger on the head Froggy trash can Oven on fire! Throwing your PET Jack in! Beast out!

Cannon Wide Shot Variable Sword Recovery Kawarimi Guardian Super Vulcan Dream Aura Muramasa Blade PoisonAnubis Z-Saber GunDelSol DarkSound CornShot MiniBomb Boomerang NumberBall PitHockey HyperBurst DreamSword

#Rockman #Megaman #Mega Man #Rockman.EXE #Megaman Battle Network #MMBNLCCountdown #Art Countdown Event

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mrs-han · 2 years

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Hi Mama Han! 💜 Please know my Happy Birthday wishes are meant to be sent the day of your birthday and not before 🙏 (in my country is considered bad luck to greet someone for their birthday days before 😅)

I thought of asking for something sweet like MC making Jumin sleep on her lap on the days at his penthouse when he obviously didn't sleep, but THEN I remembered this video:

https://youtu.be/d_sa4Ur04QU

And the masterpiece that was "The Trilogy of the Marias" with Thalia and I thought: Jumin's route, but as a Mexican telenovela with the funniest tropes we love from the medium (the rich boy, the poor girl, the evil stepmom, AMNESIA, lost relatives, Soraya! Pick your choice! )

Basically I hope you can write something you can have fun writing 😊 and Happy Birthday (in a few days)

Omo, hello Darling!! *huggu*

(Don’t worry, I totally understand — my family will only say it the day of, too! I got caught saying ‘Happy Birthday’ to my father the day before his birthday, and I got LOOKS.)

AND OKAY UM, MEXICAN TELENOVELAS?! Omo. Omo, I just got an idea based off of a show modeled after a telenovela 😂 if you know, you know! (My mom loves that novela, by the by 😂)

Okie!! Here goes!! And ¡¡¡Muchas gracias por tu petición!!! Siento haber tardado tanto ><

Jumin had never attended a unisex baby shower before. His father’s more lucrative partner insisted on a gender-neutral theme, something Jumin heavily admired. The colors were very pleasing to the eye.

But as the party progressed, Jumin couldn’t stop noticing the combined glow and irritability of the mother-to-be. She kept complaining of the room being too hot, or too cold. She had even thrown a gifted pair of slippers at her husband’s head at one point.

“Ah, sweet love.” Standing next to his best friend, V casually leaned against Jumin’s sturdy figure. “Take it in, Jumin. One day, that will be us. At the mercy of our dear —”

“What the hell is this?” The mother-to-be demanded, lifting up a pair of slim-fitting jeans. “Who would buy me this now?! Do I look like I can fit into jeans?!”

V awkwardly lifted his glass to his lips. Jumin bit back a laugh.

“Hey Jumin, she’d like jeans, wouldn’t she? She can wear them after she gives birth, right?”

“Honey, try to calm down —”

“How can I stay calm when some idiot thinks I can fit into a size two after this?!”

Slipping out of the room like an eel between rocks, V set his wine glass down and exhaled shakily.

“I’m not an expert, but —”

“Shut up, Jumin.”

Laughing softly, Jumin’s eyes fell to his blurry reflection echoed in the wine’s dark red color.

“Kind of makes you think, doesn’t it?” V asked.

“About?”

“Settling down. Having kids.”

Jumin was ready to object, but his best friend was right. His mind did wander to the possibilities of siring heirs one day, but that meant meeting a woman and…

Ehm.

Still. Jumin’s age combined with the lack of an heir to the Han family name got to him.

A little bit.

“I have no interest in dating anyone at the moment, much less marrying them. Children are, unfortunately, a very distant goal.”

Finishing his wine, V smacked his lips, much to Jumin’s chagrin. “Sure, if you stay in your bubble.”

“Sure, I should be just like you,” Jumin scoffed. “Rambling to the park attendant about the speeds of rollercoasters and eventually throwing up in the nearest trash can once the ride is over.”

“… You said you’d never bring that up again.”

“It’s safe to say that you and I aren’t siring any heirs anytime soon. Women repulse me, and you, well —”

“Yes, yes, I’ll probably puke all over the next woman I talk to. Right?”

“… No, but why not.” Jumin grinned.

V’s eyes grew as a thought came to mind. “Ready for a crazy idea?”

Jumin took another sip of his wine. “Why not, the night is still young.”

“Let’s donate sperm tomorrow.”

Spitting everything up, Jumin’s eyes bore into V. “Are you — what? Why?”

“Well, like you said. We aren’t having kids anytime soon, and with how much busier our lives are going to get, it’s not a bad idea.”

“V, do you really —”

“We’ll be giving the gift of life to a couple. Or a well-off single mom!”

“… I don’t know. Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

“Come on, Jumin. We both know you’re going to say yes.”

“Doesn’t it bother you? There will be a young man or woman that will one day look like you, or me. We aren’t in the private eye, Jihyun.”

“Who cares about all that. Why are you so worried?”

Jumin felt the uncomfortable churn of jealousy over V’s more carefree nature. “I… well, there’s no harm in checking it out —”

“I already made an appointment for us.”

“You wha — delete it.”

A shame V refused to listen. The following day, Jumin found himself sitting in the waiting room of a sperm donor facility.

“No, that’s literally impossible.”

“Ma’am… I’m sorry, but…” laughing nervously, the doctor looked at you, then at the paperwork in her hand. “The results prove otherwise. When was your last period?”

“Uh, a I’m a little late, but —”

“How late?”

“Two, three weeks? Look, I shouldn’t be pregnant. I can’t be pregnant, I’ve never had sex! I’m here for the results of a Pap smear, not to —!!”

You cut yourself off. You had to, or the swirling sensation you felt would eventually tip you over.

The doctor’s eyes gradually widened. “… You… were the Pap smear appointment at 0900 hours on Tuesday?”

“Yes!!”

“… Oh!” Her laughter almost calmed your nerves.

Almost.

“I confused my appointments, you see… I had an artificial insemination appointment with another client… forty-five minutes after you… I must have gotten you two mixed up…!”

“Are you kidding me?!” You yelled. “How could you confuse the two?!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t — I had a lot on my mind that day! You see, I had —”

“Oh my God, I don’t want to hear it!!” Throwing your hands up, you couldn’t stop focusing on the anxious churning in your stomach. Hell, maybe it was the seed suddenly aware that it shouldn’t be there.

“There are options for you to take —”

“You know what, you’re done. I want a new doctor.”

“Ma’am, it’s the end of the year… and if you want to schedule an appointment with a new provider, you need to wait until after New Years…”

“After New Years.”

“And our staff at the front desk is going to inform you that the wait will be about two months out…”

You had never been more furious in your life. Sliding off of the examination chair, you (tried to) take as many deep, controlling breaths as possible. You were too afraid to ask about your options, and while abortion was the most reasonable, this doctor would probably end up giving you cyanide to injest.

“If I may,” the doctor voiced timidly, raising her finger.

You shook your head, agitating the budding headache against your temples. “I really don’t want to hear any suggestions, thanks.”

“No, you see… the sperm donor asked that I inform him of when his sperm was ever used —”

“His sperm should have never been used.”

“Nevertheless… would you like to know…? Who…”

The timidity of your doctor’s voice frustrated you further. “It doesn’t matter. I doubt I’ll keep it.”

“Which is reasonable, given the circumstances! But, I’m wondering if you, too, would like to know… given you may not keep —”

“Fine. Who is it.”

She stared at you, fumbling with her fingers. “Are you familiar with Han Jumin of C&R International…?”

You stopped breathing. Your fingers tingled, your throat went dry, and your jaw clenched so tightly that you felt your teeth grinding rigidly against each other.

Han Jumin. The heir to the massive business conglomerate, C&R. Of course you knew him. Well, not personally. You were currently reading one of his books, The Successful Path of a Certain Man, for your Business Intelligence & Analytics final.

He was a business magnate, a flawless negotiator and the role model for business majors everywhere.

And you were inseminated with his seed.

“I have to go.”

“Um, wait — ma-am!”

Ignoring your doctor completely, you grabbed your coat and rushed out of the facility. It was too much for you to absorb, and you had so many questions.

Like, what was the Han Jumin doing at a sperm bank?

How would you go about suing your doctor?

Why did you schedule your first freaking Pap smear towards the end of the year?!

You wanted to go home, curl under a huge pile of blankets, and disappear from the world.

But something else captured your attention. A ping from your phone.

Unknown: … Hello…? Can you see this?

#mystic messenger #jumin han #mein schatz #the birthday of a nugget #HAPPY BELATED CRIMUS #my written Spanish is a lil shaky BUT #WHY NOT #I hope you all had a very comfortable Christmas 🥂#Chag Urim Sameach for those who celebrate Hanukkah!!#since it was my first Hanukkah I spent a LOT of time watching Mayim Bialik’s Instagram 😂#and if you know what show I’m referring to #>w>#the series was one of my birthmas presents!!#if there are mistakes here I’m SORRY 😂😂#i wrote this over a span of four days #let’s finish this year with grace ♥️#if you can barely stand then there will always be people you can lean on and who will gladly help you.

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kiasnocturnality · 2 years

Text

✧･ﾟ V A' A R I N I E L

SPECIES: Faerie (lunar moth)

SEX: Female

HAIR COLOUR: White

EYE COLOUR: Hazel

HEIGHT: 6’

MBTI: ISTJ

BIRTHDAY: 18th September| 206

ABOUT: Va’ariniel is the eldest child of her father Nielhuinn, born from his marriage to his first wife Tazerilen. As the only child of this marriage, she was announced as the King’s heir before he remarried. The moment talk began of him remarrying to Amaryisel, Va’ari dedicated herself to all sorts of studies that would prepare her to be the reigning monarch of the Fae Court. From a young age, she was made to understand politics and she knew the threat that a second marriage could pose to her title as heir.

In the Fae Court, second marriages are rather unheard of and so many believe that Va’ari is the only rightful heir, being the only child from the King’s first marriage however there is equal opposition that claims tradition says that title should go to Taru as the first-born son. She’s caught up in a succession crisis and is determined to not have her birthright stolen from her.

Va’ari has umber skin, long white hair that she styles with various braids and features bangs, bleached eyebrows, hazel eyes. She has long, pointed ears with a small set of lunar moth wings that point backwards behind them and thin, fluffy, pale-green antennae. On her back, she has a large pair of iridescent green lunar moth wings.

Va’ari can always be found wearing the colour green as it represents her connection to the woodland realm she will one day rule and it is the colour of her late mother’s house, being a lunar moth faerie.

Va’ariniel is quick to approach but slow to trust as it is essential that she chooses her friends and allies very carefully so she will be a reluctant partner and you will have to prove your loyalty to her as a Princess before she is able to trust you to accept you as a lover. Va’ari is bisexual and understands that she must one day produce an heir and so many expect that she will be left with no choice but to have a husband however she’s done enough research to know that she can have a wife and a male concubine as it has been done before and old laws allow such. Va’ari knows what she wants to have available to her and so she will always have a plan to allow her to have whatever she wishes.

Once someone has proven that they are trustworthy to her, she’s a very loving partner! Va’ari struggles with expressing her emotions but don’t doubt her feelings for a moment! She shows her affection through helping you achieve your own goals and through touch and quality time. She’s not one for big flashy dates, she really wouldn’t know where to start on planning them but she’ll take you to a secluded meadow and bring some of your favourite foods while he caresses your face in her lap and tells you just how much she adores you, how you give her butterflies that she just can’t put to words, leaving her speechless for once. She can get very upset at times like this and can tear up while she wishes that she knew how to better express her love. Give her some reassuring kisses or hold her hand and she’ll be alright through. She’ll cuddle up with you in these times and just can’t seem to keep any sort of distance between you, holding you close and tight to try and make sure that you know just how much she loves you.

STRENGTHS:

magic: Faeries are incredibly powerful magical beings

dimensional transportation: Faeries can transport themselves and others to other dimensional planes. Mortals and fairies of lesser power require fixed portals to do so, but more powerful fairies may cross dimensions at will. Powerful fairies can banish people to other dimensions against their will, though less powerful faeries appear to require consent.

invisibility: They can only be seen if they want to be or by people who have travelled to their realm and returned.

healing: Faeries have the ability to cure broken or withered plants; wounds, broken bones and low vitality.

photokinesis: Faeries have the ability to project and control light and nature.

mesmerisation: Fairies can make humans do their bidding. The fairy only needs to have eye contact in order to seize your mind with a simple phrase or change in tone of voice.

chlorokinesis: Faeries can manipulate vegetation. Fairies can grow plants to enormous proportions in nearly any environment, and use them as weapons that can grab and attack with vines and roots, grow or retract thorns.

superhuman durability: Faeries can take far more trauma than humans can without much discomfort or injury.

flight: Winged faeries can fly.

glamour: Able to cast vivid and convincing illusions in order to trick others, as demonstrated with the illusion of the fae world, making it appear more appealing and beautiful.

oneirokinesis: They are shown to be able to enter people's dreams and converse with that person when fairies both enter their slumber.

immortality: Faeries are immortal beings.

oath: If a faerie’s oath is broken, great dishonour is brought upon the faerie and their clan and is thus considered an act of war. Faeries also make pacts signing the contract with their blood. This is called "blood on vellum." This is said to be the most sacred of contracts.

WEAKNESSES:

iron: Iron is poisonous to the Fae and may kill them if there is too much in their system. Iron can be passed into a Fae's system by the slightest touch so most tend to avoid cold Iron with a vengeance.

names: names hold a lot of power in the fae realm and so true names are not passed around lightly. For a fae to surrender their name is to surrender all their power.

invitation: faeries cannot enter a home without an invitation – this invitation can be withdrawn at any time and will cause the faerie to leave immediately.

AESTHETICS:

#✧･ﾟINTO THE FOREST #✩⋆ﾟVA’ARINIEL #faerie oc #fae oc #faerie oc x reader #fae oc x reader #fae x reader #faerie x reader #terato #terato x reader #monster oc #monster girlfriend #monster girlfriend x reader

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maximons · 3 years

Text

Perfect

Summary: Wanda Maximoff and Y/n L/n, two kindred spirits that find themselves drawn to each other. And because of this, they knew their first date wouldn’t be anything less than perfect.

Word Count: 2,462

Genre: College AU, Fluff

Requested?: Yes

A/N: Hope ya’ll like your teeth rotting, cause that’s all this is :)

You first saw Wanda Maximoff in early October.

In hindsight, you couldn’t believe you didn’t notice her sooner. It was in your psychology class on a Friday afternoon. The class was required for your major, and it was also your last class of the day and the last one of the week, so you weren’t the most excited to be there. You leaned back in your chair, pen twirling in your hand, listening to the professor drone on about...something. You weren’t really paying attention.

You assumed she asked a question, because a few stray hands shot up in the air. One was selected, and a voice started speaking.

And, oh wow...you were paying attention now.

The beautiful voice was deeper, raspy. It held your attention, pulling you in even if you didn’t want to be, which you very much did. What intrigued you the most was the slight accent that was laced within it. You couldn’t pinpoint where it was from exactly, but you would guess European. Eastern European maybe.

Hypnotizing.

“Thank you, Miss Maximoff, that was actually very insightful.” You snapped back into reality at the sound of your professors voice. You leaned back into your seat, eyes drifting over to the owner of the voice.

You couldn’t see her face, as you were seated in the back of the lecture hall and she was closer to the front, but your gaze was met with a beautiful head of flowing red hair. You could tell that it wasn’t natural, most likely dyed, but it didn’t make it any less gorgeous. Right then and there, you made it a goal to get closer to this girl. You brought the tip of your pen to your lips, biting on it slightly. A smile grew on your face, still staring at the back of her head.

“Well, hello Miss Maximoff.”

The opportunity to talk to her arose the next week. You walked into class, few minutes earlier than you usually did, eyes scanning the room. You were happy to see the head of red hair that plagued your mind for the last few days already in her seat. This time though, you got to see her face. Your jaw dropped slightly.

She’s beautiful.

You snapped yourself out of it, not wanting to risk getting caught staring. You casually made your way through the room and up a few steps. However, instead of going to your usual seat in the back of the hall, you plopped yourself down into the seat next to hers.

You slid your bag off your shoulder, shoving it under the table in front of you, staring forward. You noticed the redhead turn her gaze towards you, wondering why you were sitting there you were sure. After a few moments, her gaze still lingered on you, so you took a chance and turned you head. You gave her a small smile.

“Hey.” You said quietly, as casual as you could. You didn’t want her to think you were some kind of stalker, sitting next to her just to get close to her.

Well, yeah that’s what you were doing, but you didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.

She simply responded with the same smile and greeting before turning her attention back towards the front of the room. Just then, your professor walked in and the lecture started.

After about a half hour of half listening, your ears perked up at the next thing out of her mouth. “Alright, get into pairs and discuss.”

Yes! This was your chance. Normally you hated group work, especially in this class since none of your friends shared it with you, but today you were excited.

You turned your head towards the redhead only to find her looking at you. You gave her a nervous chuckle. “You wanna...” You trailed off, but she caught on to what you were saying on saying and nodded. You smiled. “I don’t think we’ve met before, I’m Y/n.” You straightened yourself up, holding out your hand for her to take.

She chuckled as she took it. “I know. Dr. Logan keeps scolding you for not paying attention.” She teased, accent present as ever. You laughed nervously.

“That’s me.” She laughed a little more at that, and man you loved the sound.

“I’m Wanda.”

You smiled. Wanda Maximoff. What a name.

You started discussing the topic at hand, conversation flowing pretty easily between you two. You quickly caught on to how her accent would thicken when saying certain words. You hung onto every word that flowed out of her mouth. She was also incredibly smart and insightful, but not in a condescending or pretentious way. She was perfect.

You were a goner.

The next few weeks you would continue sitting next to her, and finding reasons to talk to her. You became each others go to partners for class activities. You even formed a friendship outside of class, slowly making your way from acquaintances to friends. You introduced her to your friend group, and she did to hers. You hung out everyday, even began to crash at each others places, it was amazing.

The end of the semester quickly approached, and you were packing your bags to go home for winter break. You and Wanda swore to keep in contact and talk as much as you could. Before you officially left campus though, you had to do something in person. You made your way to Wanda’s dorm and knocked. She answered, and before she could get a word out, you asked the question that’s been on the tip of your tongue for months.

“Do you want to go out with me?”

You knew it was a last minute request, but you didn’t want to do it over the phone. And when you got to see her smile grow as she nodded excitingly, you knew it was the right choice.

You never got around to setting a day because her twin brother, Pietro, was essentially rushing her out of the building, ready to go home. She called over her shoulder that she would call you. And she did as soon she could.

You both decided that you would wait until spring semester and go to the nice restaurant that was in town, it was a popular date sight for those in your school. It sounded like a plan.

But two weeks later, you decided you had a better one.

Wanda was a free spirit, and you were pretty unconventional yourself. Dinner dates were more for couples that didn’t know each other well and wanted to have their first meeting in a public setting. That wasn’t you two. You were great friends already, and you didn’t want to be stuck in the confines of the etiquette of the restaurant. You wanted to be 100% yourself, and you wanted her to be as well.

Wanda was very confused when you asked her where she lived and if she was free tomorrow night. She knew you were up to something, but she didn’t know what. When she asked, you simply said “Trust me.” And she did.

Wanda only lived an hour and a half from you. Perfect. Easy drive.

The next night, you grabbed the keys to the pickup truck that you shared with your dad. You packed what you think you two would need, and then you took off.

An hour and a half later, you arrived at Wanda’s place. Whoa. She practically lived in a mansion. Someone neglected to tell you that she was loaded. You laughed to yourself, thinking of the ways you could tease her about it later. You parked your truck a little ways down the street, so it wasn’t immediately noticeable to the residents inside. You got out and made your way over to the back of the truck. You leaned against it, and pulled out your phone.

“Hey, Y/n!” Wanda answered excitingly, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Hello there, Miss. Maximoff. What are you up to this fine evening?” You said in a terribly butchered British accent, but Wanda found it amusing and laughed.

“Nothing much, I just got out of the shower.”

“Ah, perfect. Say, instead of getting ready for bed...you might wanna put something warm on.”

Wanda furrowed her brow in confusion, but smiled at your antics. You were up to something. “What did you do?”

“Me? Oh nothing, why would you think that?” You said in mock hurt, and she laughed again. “But I wouldn’t mind it if you made your way outside...” You trailed off, and before Wanda could ask why. You hung up.

A few minutes later, Wanda walked outside. She was dressed casually, jeans and a red sweater. She had her white coat pulled tightly around her, and she tugged on her black scarf as she walked down the walkway.

Absolutely beautiful.

Confusion was plastered on her face, she looked around for a moment, not understanding why she wanted you to go outside. She pulled out her phone, ready to call you again, when she heard a loud honk. She made her way down the street towards the sound, and she gasped slightly when she saw you.

“Oh my god!” She exclaimed and started running towards you. She jumped up into your arms, legs wrapping around you in a tight hug. Both of you sported wide smiles as you laughed. After a few moments, Wanda hopped off of you, smile still wide as she looked at you. “What are you doing here!?”

“Well, I know we talked about how we’d go down to the restaurant, which we can still do if you want to, but I figured...it wouldn’t be us if we didn’t go for a little adventure for our first date.”

Wanda smiled. She was also thinking something similar, but she wanted this to work with you, so she thought she’d play it safe for the first date. She should’ve known better though, because you were you. You didn’t care for societal norms, you played everything by ear, and you faced life head on and in the moment. You were perfect to her. “And where would we be going, Miss L/n?”

“Well, that’s the best part.” You started as you opened the passenger door for Wanda. “I have no idea. We’ll let the road guide us.” You made a gesture to the road, causing the redhead to laugh.

“Alright, Y/n. Show me the way.” You smiled as you helped her in the truck. You closed the door, and made your way over to the drivers seat, taking off a moment later.

About two hours later, you were still on the road. You didn’t know exactly where you were, and you didn’t care. All you cared about was the beautiful girl beside you. You’ve been engaged in various conversations throughout the night, some playful, some serious, but all of them were amazing. You could talk to this woman for the rest of your life and you would never get bored.

You were making your way through a tunnel, and since it was nearing 1am by this point, it was only you. Wanda shot you a mischievous look ad she hit the button to the truck’s sunroof. You chuckled. “Whatcha doing there?”

“You ever wonder what it would feel like to fly?”

“Who hasn’t?”

“Well this...” Wanda clicked her seatbelt off and carefully stood on the seat. “Is the closest you can get to it.” She stood up, sticking the upper half of her body out of the roof.

You panicked for a moment. You were driving pretty fast, and were sure this was unsafe. You didn’t want anything to happen to her. You were about to say something, but then Wanda let out a boisterous laugh. “This is amazing!” She let out a scream of excitement. “Y/n, turn the music up!”

You couldn’t help but smile. This woman was truly amazing. You couldn’t bring yourself to worry about the safety measures when she was enjoying herself like this. You obliged and turned the radio up, and Wanda began singing along to the words and, oh wow...

If you thought her speaking voice was captivating...her singing voice was just something else entirely. You were smiling as wide as you possibly could, enjoying this moment.

It was perfect.

Soon enough though, the end of the tunnel was approaching. There was a metal bar that hung low, so you decided now was the time to pull her back. You tugged on her pant leg. “Okay, Supergirl, get back in here before your head gets torn off.” You laughed, and Wanda soon dropped back in her seat, laughing with you.

You wanted to get a good look at the girl sitting next to you, have a conversation where you could pay attention to her entirely and not having to split your focus. “You up for one more stop?” You asked. Wanda nodded excitingly.

“Of course.”

You drove for about five more minutes when you spotted a small vacant park. You pulled over to the side of the road and park, and got out. You opened the door open for Wanda again, and helped her get out. You then made your way to the backseat and pulled out the blankets you decided to bring, before walking with Wanda to the center of the park.

You laid down one of the blankets on the grass, and when you both laid down on it, you pulled the other one on top of you.

You spent the next half hour or so in deep conversation, staring at the stars. You didn’t want this night to end, but when you saw Wanda let out a yawn, you figured it would have to soon.

“Alright, we should start heading back. We gotta get you to bed, Miss Bezos.” Wanda smacked your arm at you poking fun at her financial status. “Actually, I’m sure you have a private jet that can pick us up. where’s Alfred at?” You both laughed harder as Wanda hit you again. You two began wrestling, play fighting with each other, when eventually you let Wanda win. She rolled on top of you, pinning you down.

You continued laughing for a few more moments, before it died down. You were both then very aware of your position and blushed. You looked into each others eyes for a moment, and then Wanda began speaking.

“Tonight was just...so perfect. Thank you, Y/n.” She said softly, and you smiled.

“Of course.”

You stayed there, staring into each others eyes for another moment, before Wanda started leaning down. You picked your head up, meeting her in the middle, and your lips locked in a soft kiss. You both smiled as you deepened the kiss.

This was for sure the perfect end to a perfect evening.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you

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tryingmyves · 3 years

Note

Hey Ves! I have a request for you! May you please do Shinsou, Todoroki, ( A character of your choice) who got hit by a quirk who turns them into a lil toddler and they’ve got the biggest crush on their female chubby/plus size classmate 🥺🥺💞 and when they turn back they confess to her💞

hiiii @blossominglark ~ tysm for your request! i’ve haven’t written something like this yet, so i hope you enjoy! ✨

Shinso’s First Crush

PAIRING: Hitoshi Shinso x Y/N (female, plus sized)

c/w: toddler!Shinso, mostly fluff

When you went to class this morning you thought it was just going to be a normal Monday, but the arrival of Mr. Aizawa with Eri and a small violet haired boy in tow announced that today would be different.

“Awh! Who’s this cutie?” Ochako asks, spotting the unfamiliar child first, “Did you make a new friend, Eri?”

“Don’t call me that!” the boy responds, his pudgy fists balling at his sides.

“There was a mishap last night while we were practicing Eri’s quirk,” Mr. Aizawa says, “She uh, rewound Shinso a little too far.”

Every eye in the classroom is now on the pint-sized Shinso, silence filling the room before a cacophony of reactions burst out all at once. Kaminari and Sero are laughing hysterically. Mina and Hakagure are fawning over how adorable little Shinsou is, while Midoriya is rushing to Eri from his desk to assure her that mistakes happen and no one is mad at her. Iida is questioning how to reverse the effects of Eri’s quirk, and even Bakugo looks amused at the announcement. You’re the only one who notices the quivering lip and watery eyes of tiny Shinso.

Since his introduction to your class you’ve been attempting to befriend him. He made it clear that he hadn’t transferred to the hero course to make friends, but you see passed his uncaring facade. He’s let other people’s comments of the possible malicious nature of his quirk effect his self perception. He is so used to people calling him a villain he can’t fathom he’ll ever be called a friend. And you are determined change that. You’ve made small progress towards your goal in the last month. He sits with you in the cafeteria and even accepted a few invitations to study with you and your group, but no significant progress. But now, seeing Shinso so vulnerable in front of your entire class makes you stand from your desk. Even if he isn’t “here to make friends” he needs one right now, so that’s what you are going to be.

You quickly walk to the front of the room and use your chubby frame to hide him from the overwhelming sight of the his classmates gawking at him. Lowering yourself to your knees so your plump face is level with his, you say, “hey, it’s alright Shinso. Everything’s going to be okay.” Subconsciously, your voice becomes softer and there’s a melodic tune to it. You know that the toddler in front of you is a member of your class and typically two months your senior, but right now he’s just a scared little boy. You can’t help but treat him like any other child.

He wipes at his nose with the back of his sleeve, sniffing back tears, “Y/N, they’re all staring at me. I… I don’t like it!” Shinso is mortified at his current state. He was so determined to do everything by himself to prove he belonged to be in the hero course, but now he’s been reduced to a helpless little kid. Worst of all, the kind, curvy and optimistic girl he’s been secretly crushing on the last month is now trying to console him. He’s normally so good at containing his emotions, but it seems Eri’s quirk has reversed his emotional maturity along with his age. Right now all he can manage to do is try to hide his face so no one can see his tears.

You extend your cushy arms outward, offering a hug and Shinso can’t help but rush into it. He feels so exposed right now but when you hold him against your plump body he feels a little safer. Like he’s wrapped up in a cocoon of you. He hopes he can just stay cloaked in you arms until his metamorphosis back to his old self is complete. However, that possibility is dashed by the arrival of All Might and a man you don’t recognize at the classroom door.

“Sorry we’re late, Aizawa. This is who I told you about on the phone.” All Might says, clapping a hand on the stranger’s shoulder. It turns out, among the countless connections All Might made as the Number One Pro Hero, is a hero who goes by TimeSkip, with the ability to fast forward time. In the hero world, he typically puts his quirk to use at the sights of natural climate disasters by accelerating the regrowth of the land so entire communities aren’t displaced. Luckily, he’s capable of aging or time skipping any living matter, not just plants. Mr. Aizawa had called All Might for help after the incident and was relived his colleague knew someone who could fix the current predicament.

“Shinso, go with All Might and TimeSkip. They’re going to get you back to normal,” your teacher says.

But Shinso just burrows himself deeper into you, pressing himself up to your chest. You can tell that he doesn’t want to separate from your comforting embrace. You turn your head over your shoulder, “Mr. Aizawa, would it be alright if I went with Shinso?” You drop your voice so you won’t be overheard by your classmates, “For emotional support,” you say with a light nod to the weeping Shinso in your arms. He just gives you a nod. You whisper down into Shinso’s hair, “It’s okay, this is almost over.” You take his small hand in your own and lead him out of the classroom, using your large frame to keep him out of sight of the others.

The pair of you follow All Might and his friend through the halls, eventually stopping in a vacant training room. TimeSkip explains how his quirk works to Shinso, who is still holding your hand and trying to hide behind one of your legs. With some gentle easing from you, Shinso finally lets go of you and takes TimeSkip’s hand instead. You stand in the hallway with your back to the door while Shinso is returned to his normal self. The hero had explained his clothes would not be growing with him, so it was best for you to wait outside. A few moments pass before the two heroes open the door and step out of the room.

“He’s all set in there, Y/N.” All Might says, “I think he’s a bit embarrassed, maybe you can cheer him up before the two of you return to class.”

You nod, thanking both All Might and TimeSkip before stepping in to talk to Shinso. He’s wearing his uniform now and leaning back against the wall, head low, and face covered by the mess of his purple hair.

“Hey Shi-“

“Please don’t talk about it,” his voice is quiet and filled with humiliation.

“Oh, yeah. It’s no big deal,” you try to brush it off. You want to comfort him and tell him that he doesn’t have to be self conscious, but you know that will just make him feel worse. “I was just coming to see-“

He cuts you off again, “Y/N, I have to tell you something. When I first transferred into the hero course I told you I wasn’t here to make friends. But then you kept talking to me and trying to get to know me and you started inviting me to lunch and study groups. And I… started to think that having you as a friend wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

He looks up at you now and takes a step closer, moving away from the wall. “And I realize I like you more than that. I love how soft and round you are, and that you always make sure everyone’s included. That you don’t make yourself smaller because you deserve to take up space. I think you’re beautiful and I am too scared to say it.”

He take a few more steps towards you, so there’s only a foot left between you, “But then when I was frozen there in front of the class you swooped in. And I didn’t hesitate to fall into your arms. I didn’t let my stupid brain get in the way… so I have to tell you now, before I think better of it…”

You can help but smile at the confession. You’ve thought Shinso was cute from the moment you met him, but decided he needed a friend before trying to be something more than that. You didn’t realize that Shinso was crushing on you too. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”

Shinso lets out a light chuckle, finally letting a smile reach his lips. “I don’t. But I had to get it out before I changed my mind. It only would have made it worse.”

You take a small step forward, halving the distance between you. “I, uhm, like you too you know.”

“Why would you want some lanky, closed off guy like me when your so curvy and beautiful?” Shinso breathes in disbelief.

“I guess I have a thing for tall guys,” you joke.

He just shakes his head at you, “Y/N, do you want to go on a date with me tomorrow night?”

You giggle and nod your head, holding out your arms the same way you did in the classroom, “I would love to,” you beam.

Shinso steps forward, enveloping you in a hug. Despite your plus size frame, he easily lifts your feet off the ground for a moment before gently setting you back down.

“I’ll pick you up at eight, okay? And… thank you for helping me today.”

“That’s what friends do,” you assure, excited at the possibility of becoming something more.

#hitoshi shinso #hitoshi shinsou #hitoshi shinso x y/n #shinsou x y/n #chubby y/n #hitoshi shinso x reader #shinsou x reader #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero #boku no hero academia #by ves #request

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mitts2002 · 3 years

Text

JJK pottery dates

Hii I've already made a separate inumaki fic on this so he won't be included. I was originally meant to do this for one character but I've decided to do multiple cause I can😌 Also I've never done pottery so I'm just winging this!

Itadori Yuuji

Yuuji would assume that he's gonna be a natural at pottery despite being both your first time

But yuuji would definitely not care about the end result of it

As long as he has a good time with (Y/N) that's all that matters

He'll accidentally use too much strength when handling the clay. Instructor tells him he's too heavy handed

(Y/N) on the other hand is doing pretty well. Shes almost done shaping and is ready to add some decorations

This is when Yuuji realises he does care about the end result because his looks like a complete mess

To cheer him up (Y/N) engraves Yuujis name into her pot and gives it to him as a gift.

You also offer to take yuujis piece in return

(Y/N) uses yuujis clay thing as a place for small trinkets and earrings

Yuuji uses (Y/N)s pot to plant a cactus

The couple had decided to go on a cute little pottery date for their first date, so why was Yuuji pouting in the corner?

Well at first (Y/N) and Yuuji were having a great time together. Messing around and quoting stupid memes and movie references was just their thing so when it was actually their turn to make something Yuuji had no idea what he was doing.

(Y/N) despite messing around with him had actually paid attention to the instructor and was doing just fine which made matters even worse for Yuuji. He assumed this would be a piece of cake when in reality it wasn't.

"Yuuji stop sobbing in the corner babe, it doesn't even look that bad!" You clearly lied to him but you knew it was for his own good.

"NO ITS TRASH look at yours (Y/N) so nice and pretty no one would ever want mine! Now I'll never be the world's best pottery maker" Yuuji babbled on just being his overdramatic self.

"Well I'd love love yours! I could put my jewellery in it, I needed a new trinket box anyways" you quickly thought on the spot and sighed in relief when Yuujis head perked up

"Really?" Yuuji sniffled and grabbed onto your waist. "Yeah and ill carve your name into mine! Then give it to you as a gift. Equivalent exchange" you winked at Yuuji knowing its an offer he couldn't refuse.

"Okay deal" Yuuji sat back next to you working on your trinket box while your worked on carving his name into his plant pot.

Choso

Choso was trying to learn more about the 21st century

How did he do this? By binge watching old rom coms on netflix.

In the middle of one of the movies a pottery scene comes up and chosos eyes couldn't shine more bright.

He loved the idea. It was a great way to spend your time with your loved one.

Choso immediately rang (Y/N) and demanded she arrange a date, which she did

You and Choso couldn't find any classes near you but looking at Chosos pout and puppy dog eyes begging to find a way you had no choice.

(Y/N) did the next best thing and decided to buy a beginners home kit. Now you both sat in the living room with newspapers littering the table and large aprons on yourselves.

"Okay so let's read the instructions first" you picked up the small booklet and looked over to Chosos who couldn't contain his excitement.

His buns were a little messier than usual as he rushed them the moment the package arrived but he still looked cute nonetheless. "Let me set it up then I guess we can try make a bowl? That seems to be the easiest option" you suggested while flicking through the pages and setting things up.

"Can we make a plant pot? I wanna give yuuji a plant for his birthday" Choso proposed. "Aww that's actually a great idea yuuji would love it!" You exclaimed in return and motioned him to come closer as you were ready to begin.

Choso had sat you in between his legs and leaned his head on your shoulder. His hairs tickled you and butterflys fluttered in your stomach when Choso began to kiss your cheeks slowly inching down to you neck.

"Oi behave" you ordered trying to sound intimidating but just burst out in laughter instead. "Fine sorry sorry let's focus on the pot" Choso apologised giving one last kiss to your head.

The pot was forming nicely but was a bit wonkey due to the hand size difference between you both.

Neither of you could care though, the intimacy of his hands on yours, music playing in the background and laughter filling the room from your stupid stories and Chosos dad jokes he recently learnt was just what Choso wanted.

The plant pot had turned out to be very cute and Yuuji ended up loving it.

Kamo Noritoshi

Kamo noritoshi was brought up in a strict household

During his childhood he was expected to be talented in many areas

Archery, studying, drawing, poetry, crochet, painting and even pottery were part of the many skills kamo noritoshi had devloped

The moment (Y/N) had learnt that the vase and other ornaments in noritoshis room were hand crafted by him she wanted to learn too

Now Noritoshi is sitting here behind his girlfriend teaching her how to make a vase because she wouldn't stop pestering him

"Noriii STOP being so perfect!" (Y/N) had yelled at her confused boyfriend who was simply decorating his clay piece.

"You wanted to do pottery with me and now your doing it. What's the problem?" Norotoshi sighed and turned to look at your vase. If he could even call it that.

"If you were struggling you could've asked me for help" Noritoshi scolded while your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Yeah well I wanted to do it myself" you whined and crossed your arms in defeat.

"FINE help me please it's way harder than it looks" you admitted as nori made his way over to you.

"Firstly you need to be more gentle, it's wet clay not a damn rock (Y/N)" he corrected you and put his hands upon yours.

"Your hands are cold" you whispered to him feeling his slightly calloused hands touch yours.

"Focus (Y/N)" he responded equally as quiet as you. The room fell into a comfortable silence as your and nori moulded your vase together.

When it was finally finished you kissed noritoshi on the cheek. His cheeks turned slightly red but he kept his composure.

"It's fine (Y/N) just don't break it okay" the black haired male reminded you since you were quite clumsy.

"I promise I won't! But next time you have to do this call me and I'll join"

After this date, pottery became a common occurance for (Y/N) and Noritoshi. (Y/N) kept her promise and still fills her vase with flowers nori buys her to this day.

Okkotsu Yuta

Yuta okkotsu was a nervous wreck

You were given free tickets to a pottery event and asked Yuuta if he would accompany you

Of course he agreed without realising what he was actually getting himself into

The couple were currently at the event extremely close to make a bowl together

Yuuta could feel your hair on his skin and wanted to lean closer to bask in your presence

The moment he finally mustered the courage to lean onto your shoulder a little interruption had scared you both

'Okay Yuuta you got this. My wonderful (Y/N) is focused on the bowl so just slowly lean onto her' Yuuta thought to himself before looking towards his hands that were on yours. 'I GOT THIS' Yuuta had slowly inched closer while you continuously spoke so close to achieving his goal.

"IS THAT YOUR GIRLFRIEND!' a young girl with pigtails and pink bobbles yelled at Yuuta. The pair had jumped and practically ruined their bowl but yuuta couldn't care less. His chance was ruined.

"Yuuta she asked you a question" you reminded him and causing the black haired male to turn back to the small girl

"Ah yes this is my girlfriend" He responded with a small blush. "Well she's very pretty!" The cute child exclaimed.

"Thank you sweetie you're very cute too" (Y/N) cooed at the small girl and patted yutas arm telling him to compliment her aswell. Before yuuta could speak the young girl had beat him to it.

"OH YOU MUST BE ON A DATE! Sorry I ruined your bowl" she apologised looking down in guilt for interrupting you both.

"No no it's okay don't worry about it" Yuuta reasured and patted her head giving her a soft smile. (Y/N) blushed at the sight of her loving boyfriend with a child and gave the girl a quick high five before she scurried off to her parents.

"Wasn't she the sweetest little girl yuuta?" You asked and got a small 'hm' in response. "Our bowls a bit messy but I think we can salvage it right? Come closer so we can fix it properly" you grabbed his arms pulling him closer to you. Maybe that little interruption helped him after all.

#yuuji itadori x reader #itadori x reader #choso x reader #kamo noritoshi x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #jjk fluff #noritoshi fluff #yuuta okkotsu #jjk yuuta #jjk yuuji #jjk choso #jjk noritoshi

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siriusmydeer · 4 years

Note

hello love, i was wondering if you could do a james potter x slythering fem!reader? one where she is working so hard on getting her life together. she is trying to be different than her family and working so hard but it is getting to her. she feels like she is failing and every turn she takes is a dead end. she feels like there is no purpose to what she’s doing. i think some super fluff is required, like james boosting her up and loving her. plzzzzz & thx

his slytherin

james potter x slytherin!fem!reader

summary: when you overwork yourself james is there to save the day.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of insomnia, mentions of sleep deprivation, mentions of not eating, mentions of over working yourself, angst, sad!james, house stereotypes, bad grades, implications of smut, WOLFSTAR😍, mentions of food, a breakdown, THERES FLUFF I PROMISE

seventh year was quite literally, a mess. maybe not for others, finally done school or they were super excited to travel around the world seeing things they’ve never seen before. you’re dream had consisted of constant studying, and working that barely made any time for yourself.

for the prior three years you had studied and practiced with madam pomfrey in the healers wing to eventually become a healer yourself, and it took a lot more than you thought it anticipated.

you knew as a healer, later in life you would have to deal with artefact accidents, dementor attacks, creature-induced injuries, magical bugs, potion and plant poisoning, dragon trainers with injuries, and incredulous spell damage.

with that you had to be prepared, which meant more time hitting the books and less time spending your final year at hogwarts with your best friends and your staggering boyfriend.

(hahah u see what i did there?)

james had qued in on your restless nights by gazing across at you in the great hall. the colour of emerald green becoming frequent in his life now; surprisingly to everyone else. where you were sat at the slytherin table, your eyebags already deepening by the day and your nose buried in some sort of school book.

the thought of even being like your family, made you nauseous. you didn’t want to be like your strict, immoral family, the death eaters, the murderers, and the ministry officials. who worked like machines without feelings or care.

as a slytherin born into a pureblood family those were the expectations that were almost nailed into your back like a sign said, ‘here’s the pureblood slytherin, shame her even though you don’t know her!!’

of course those were the stereotypes, ones that had been built on for centuries since salazar slytherin himself. that you of all people had to inherit. so you had to fall, and rebuild yourself entirely for even a chance. the restless nights, insomnia, caffeine and studying was your way of rebuilding.

of course that had an effect on your grades, not sleeping, not eating and barely focusing made your grades tremble a great deal to the point where professor slughorn got concerned by his best potions makers, recent poors in his class.

you were too focused on being better that you couldn’t even focus on your own well-being, that you couldn’t even see you were hurting yourself on the people around you. almost self isolating yourself from everyone entirely.

“darling?” james whispered, his body sitting across from yours at one of the mahogany tables in the library. pince set him a warning glare not to cause any mischief as she turned around.

“hmm?” you mumbled, barely acknowledging his prescence and continuing to read your defence against the dark arts textbook, something about the ‘chameleon ghoul.’

he had barely seen you all week, and when he did he saw your agonized face scrunched up in a book and your mauve dark circles that rested below your eyes clear as day.

“why don’t you take a break, dear? have a rest, you’ve been working non-stop. ve’barely seen you.” he murmured the last bit, embarrassed for feeling ‘needy.’

“can’t jamie, newts are soon i need to be prepared.” you looked up in his direction for a moment, barely catching his saddened eyes through his spectacles at your denial of his request to finally see his girlfriend.

if this were two maybe three years ago, james would not be caught dead having a conversation with a slytherin, let alone a relationship with one. the stereotypes blinding his vision for along time before he could see what was truly in-front of him.

i mean the gryffindor pride genetically ran through his veins as he was born into the etiquette pureblood-gryffindor family himself. it was almost destined for the both of you to be corporeal enemies.

but... something about your altruistic and considerate attributes subtly changed his mind. thanking merlin, and horhace slughorn for pairing the both of you in potions in fourth year. there was always something about the way you were so gentle and benevolent with him in potions class might’ve flipped a switch in his mind.

“right then... see you later?” he muttered disappointed in himself, you work so hard to prove yourself meanwhile he didn’t even have a glare in his way because he was the perfect headboy gryffindor student; with absolutely no judgements thrown his way despite his actions towards others in previous years.

“dunno, i’m studying.” you replied, your voice monotone and dull almost raspy from barely using your voice unless answering questions in class to almost being a know-it-all and pushing yourself to the tops of all your classes.

he got up from his chair, it scraping against the floor as he walked to the exit almost like a dog with its tail between his legs. he just got so mopey by your dejected less merry self. he had to do something, he had to make you understand that being a slytherin wasn’t just you.

it was a part of you sure, but ambitious just meant you strived for your goals and you were cunning which showed your amplified skill.

that didn’t mean you were— evil? being a proud reckless gryffindor was one in his heart but nobody ever thought he was malicious.

so, james fleamont potter did the only logical thing he could think of; going to his bestfriends for help. of course at first they were not over the moon glowing in delight when they found out he was dating a slytherin, especially sirius.

but that was expected, his family being his only views on how a pureblood slytherin acted only projected onto you. giving you almost a conscientious reason to work, the thought of someone james felt was his brother perceiving you as despicable only made you pursue your self judgements.

but after your book swaps with remus, you and peters athrimancy study sessions and music bonding with sirius they grew quite fond of your personality and thought that you were due with a chance with the marauders.

“moony, i need help.” he spoke desperately as remus’ face was also buried in a book, except out of his own free will.

“james needs my help? hear that sirius? prongs needs my help.” he declared proudly as the brown-haired gryffindor groaned crossing his arms.

“it’s y/n.” he mentioned, glancing in sirius’ direction before sitting on the vermillion love seat across from the fawn haired boy.

“what about her?” remus was more-so confused, what would be so wrong with you that james had to ask him for help?

“she’s suffocating herself, the books, the studying, not sleeping, not eating, nothing. i dunno what to do anymore remus, she’s so pent up on wanting people to stop looking at her like she’s heinous she’s working herself to death!” he ranted, all his anger and agitation spilling out in one fast-paced sentence that james needed to catch his breath by the end of.

“i just dunno how to make her catch a breath, take a break. what do i do?” james panted, looking at his mates for an answer.

“imperious curse?” sirius proposed, a bad proposal but his intentions were... thoughtful. “yeah let me go use an unforgivable curse on my girlfriend so she can have a study break. no thank you, next.” james sarcastically humoured him, james didn’t want to compromise your education or use an unforgivable curse on you for that matter but you looked so incredibly burnt out he didn’t know how to help you.

“body-bind curse? so she’s like.... forced to stop?” peter suggested, looking up from his transfiguration essay catching onto the conversation as he twirled his quill between his fingers.

“or, y’know something actually logical you could do is take her books. get her lavender tea or something, let her talk.” remus finally spoke, shrugging then looking at the ‘lord of the flies’ book in his hands a smirk lying on his face knowing that would he james lucky choice.

“moony, you genius! i could kiss you!” james hopped up from his seat, on his way back to the library.

“oi! i’m the only one he’s going to be kissing, prongs!” sirius yelped as james walked out of the portrait hole with a distant chortle.

on his way to the library, where you were previously seated, james made a stop to the kitchen to grab a few of your favourite snacks and some water. he dropped them back at his dormitory, but not without a mini lecture on ‘kissing moony.’ from sirius.

what a drama queen.

the castle was slowly darkening, the only light pivoting from the floating candles in the air. he saw your frozen-like figure in the same spot you were except looking over your history of magic textbook, learning about the ‘emeric the evil.’

“y/n.” he stated firmly, you almost jumped from your seat in surprise, due to your recent sleep deprivation. “merlin james, give a girl a little warning first.” you chastised before returning to your next book that was slammed together right in-front of your eyes.

“james! i was—“ you were cut off quickly by him gathering all of your books and placing them in his left arm. “what are you doing?” you questioned, looking at him with furrowed brows, to exhausted to argue with him.

“you’re not taking care of yourself, you’re not eating, you’re not sleeping, your basically a study.... that muggle thing- robot! you’re a study robot! so i’m taking care of you.” he got sidetracked as he spoke in a gentle yet firm tone.

“but i have too-“ you were cut off again by his pointer finger shushing your lips together. “no, either you sit here in silence because i’m taking your books either way or you come with me to my dorm.” james spoke, resisting to your complaints.

“fine, but you have too—“ you started off, annoyed that your study time was ruined by james incessant comments about you ‘overworking yourself.’ he though, was not having any of that. “nope.” he grabbed your hand, dragging you off to the gryffindor tower.

you gave a small tired wave to sirius, peter and remus on the way to the dormitories as they were all either on the floor or splayed across the scarlet-coloured couches. sirius following with a teasing wolf whistle and wink seeing the both of you walking up the stairs.

“don’t do anything i wouldn’t do!” he chuckled, looping his arm over remus’ shoulders.

“ha, bloody, ha, padfoot. so, so funny i’m on the floor laughing.” he teased, sarcasm lacing his words in a monotone voice almost mocking snape.

you playfully rolled your eyes before being dragged up the stairs to the boys dormitory. the only noises heard were the clacks of your shoes and the soft breathing emitting from both you and your boyfriend.

your eyes were met with candies sprawled all over his poorly made bed, one of his quidditch sweatshirts paired with your favourite joggers; the ones he probably stole from your dorm room one night; because he was keen on you just staying there with him and ‘subtly’ moving all your things into his dormitory with the rest of the boys.

you looked at him with an arched brow, a silent question of ‘why are you doing this?’ ignoring your questioning look he sprawled himself on his twin-bed, his hands clasping in his lap waiting for you to change.

you put on the clothes he layed out, feeling james’ left hand tug you onto his chest when you were done. oh his soft, pillowy chest, you almost felt tempted to fall asleep right then and there.

“darling girl, tell me what’s going on?” he softly questioned while stroking your hair with one hand, his other arm stroking your back.

“i just—“ you stuttered, feeling a wave of tears glossing over your eyes. “i feel like everything is going so, so, wrong. m’so afraid of failing, i want to be better! i don’t want to be like m’terrible family, but it all feels like so much!” you mewled into his shirt, his grasp growing a bit tighter in an effort to psychically comfort you.

“baby, you’re nothing like your family, you have to know that?” he directed your vision to his gaze, the soft marks of mascara down your dampened face only made his gaze softer.

“you work so hard on trying to be not like your family, you don’t even know how amazing you truly are. you’re so generous, you’re always willing to help someone even if you don’t like them, i know i wouldn’t have that patience!” he softly chuckled, seeing a faded grin on your lips.

you sniffed as he continued his praise, “you’re such a hard worker, and i’m truly in awe of you. you’re the one person who truly puts her best foot forward and it’s so incredibly amazing, but you’re working so hard your exhausting yourself. y/n, it’s breaking me to see you like that.” you saw small wet streaks around his eyes, not truly realizing your self destructive habits had been harming people around you; had been harming him.

“jamie, i’m— im so sorry!” feeling the wash of emotions suddenly bundled up wash all over you, your nervous system feeling overwhelmed with the emotions of sadness, guilt and anger bubble up all at once. you whimpered into his shirt, spewing out mumbled apologies that were barely coherent due to all the sobs.

“shh- shh, don’t apologize.” he articulated, shifting his hips up and grabbing a folded parchment from his back pocket.

“w—whats that?” you questioned, trying to calm down the mewls and whimpers that wanted to escape your throat.

“this, darling, is a schedule.” he pointed out, a week schedule with times on it that labeled your subjects as well as times of the day. he also dedicated certain parts of every single day with “james!!” in bright red ink.

“so those,” he pointed out, directly at all the times he wrote his name leading up to the newt dates, “are times you and me spend together, no studying, just loving. so i can remind my beautiful, smart, and amazing talented loving girlfriend how astonishing she is.” he said with a grin, proud of himself.

“you really know how to charm a girl, potter.” you may have teased, but without him you don’t know what you would’ve done. james was truly your saviour, your light, stars to your moon; if you will.

he was yours, and you were definitely his.

taglist: @fathermarty @kittykylax @terr0rizer @aspiringsloth20 @dear-luna @famdomhideout @hufflepogue

#james potter one shot #james potter fluff #james potter fic #james potter fanfiction #james potter x oc #james potter #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #harry potter oneshot #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter smut #james potter smut #james potter series

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chocosvt · 4 years

Text

⚬ pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader ⚬ word count: 4342 ⚬ warnings: brief drug mention ⚬ genres: mainly just fluff! college/uni!au

✧✎ synopsis: your longtime campus crush just received an interesting dare: to ask you out on a date. while the circumstances are questionable, you aren’t going to decline. maybe this is your ticket to romance.

✧✎ a/n: if this title or plot sounds familiar, then that’s bc i finally accomplished a goal of mine: to rewrite i dare you. this was a fic i originally wrote in 2016!! i did change some aspects, so not everything is identical. PLS ENJOY ;w;

The bells to the café door jingled.

Normally, you wouldn’t be so attentive about the customers filtering in and out, but at that moment, your gaze shot over the lid of your laptop like a harpoon. It was roughly the right time, the right day. According to your judgement, this was when they usually came for their morning coffees. Jeonghan, Joshua, and Seungcheol: a very popular trio amongst the likings of your campus.

Jeonghan was a nursing student. Clean-cut, charming to a degree of annoyance, and always ordered a boring black coffee. The second boy, Joshua, was cute enough to stop you in your tracks and force a double-take. However, he liked mathematics, numbers, weird formulas which looked more torture than learning. He preferred lattes with foam. And then there was Seungcheol. You wouldn’t call him your true love, because you didn’t know him all that well, and as far as he was concerned you were the lunatic who accidentally set pages of Joshua’s chemistry homework on fire. But that was a story for another day (you haven’t been near that Yankee candle since).

Nonetheless, you were crushing on him. Badly. To the point where you arrived at the café early, pretending to type a document on your laptop, just so you could flit your eyes every so often at his table while he slurped his chocolate mocha. You even had their scheduling memorized. It was a bit weird, and you would be the first to admit such a thing, but nothing was going to thwart you from daydreaming about those eyes of his. Or that dazzling smile. His short bursts of laughter which were usually tweezed out at Jeonghan pulling some stupid prank on Joshua. Everything about you adored him.

The trio gathered at their usual table, sat obliquely to your nook by the window. You had opened an older document that was already finished, pretended to tap against the keys while they ate a small breakfast before class. Something was different. They were giggling more than usual. And you couldn’t help but blatantly stare with concern when Joshua tore open a salt packet and poured it straight on his tongue. Jeonghan was grinning so widely that you were positive his face must be aching, and Seungcheol cackled into his fist while Joshua immediately grabbed for his latte.

A game. They were playing some sort of game.

Once Joshua had recovered, you noted that he began surveying the café, running his narrowed gaze to each table.

The second he found you huddled in the corner, attempting to shrink behind your laptop and pretend your presence was nothing but invisible, Joshua leaned into Seungcheol’s side to make a very smiley whisper. Pretend I’m working, pretend I’m working on something so damn important I can’t look up for even a second, you reiterated to yourself quietly, ignoring the panic ballooning inside you. A minute later, someone had just pulled out the chair across from you. They sat down with a slight groan, clasping their hands together.

Of course, it was Seungcheol.

“Hey.” He said, watching as you tentatively lowered the lid of your laptop, probably wondering why the hell you looked so stunned.

“What are you, um, doing?” You asked.

Seungcheol could not be sitting across from you just because he wanted to. It was impossible. And as much as that stung to admit, you knew the truth was simply that. He was definitely put up to this.

“We know each other pretty well, correct?” The boy completely ignored your question. “I know that you set Josh’s chem notes on fire. We take toxicology together. Need I say more?”

“Wow,” you replied, twiddling your fingers anxiously under the table, “that’s a whole two things. I can’t even count that high.”

“We can’t all be mathematicians,” Seungcheol moved the conversation along while he angled a white jar of sugar, “and I guess I should tell you, I’m in a predicament, which involves you.”

Your hands squeezed together so firmly that they nearly moulded into permanent fists. Seungcheol was staring at you now rather than flickering his gaze between the objects on the table, with those eyes as dark as sapphire. You were burning up, sweltering, felt like you needed to burst from your clothes and bathe in ice.

“A predicament?”

Seungcheol folded his muscular arms on the table and nodded. “Yeah, I got a dare from Josh. To ask you out. The thing is, I’m not supposed to tell you. But you seem like a nice girl.”

You swallowed very tautly and pushed down the lid of your laptop a little more. Over Seungcheol’s shoulder, you spotted both Joshua and Jeonghan observing, chuckling amongst themselves.

“Another thing,” Seungcheol added, raking a hand through his black locks, “I don’t want to lose to tweedle-dumb and tweedle-idiot over there – you can decide who’s who – so you should accept.”

Straightening your posture against the chair, you decided to spell out the situation, more for your sake than Seungcheol’s. “Let me get this straight. You got dared to ask me out. You have nothing better to do tomorrow night, so you accepted it. And I don’t have a choice.”

“Your wording is a bit disparaging. But essentially, yeah.” He leaned back with a gorgeous smile, turning up his palm. “So, down?”

At that moment, you could not believe the universe had just ladled this ridiculous possibility into your lap. A date with your biggest crush on campus. A date that so many people would be wrangling your neck to steal from you – even if it was based on an innocuous little game which Seungcheol refused to submit because he was too competitive at heart. It might not have been your most prideful choice in life, but you accepted. Any chance to spend the night with him would not be wasted as long as the offer stood.

However, you had one condition.

“I’ll do it,” you grinned, watching the boy’s expression perk like a child who just got handed a cookie, “on the account of another dare. Which you’ll find out on our fake date.”

“Fine.” Seungcheol shrugged, sliding his phone across the table so that you could enter your number. He stood up afterward, on the verge of returning to his friends when he suddenly paused.

“See you tomorrow night, sweetheart.”

There was such a rush of butterflies in your stomach, you were surprised one hadn’t flown out your mouth.

You didn’t know why you cared so much about a date that was most likely intended to humiliate you. Was Joshua still not over those chemistry sheets? Even after you spent a good two hours in the library attempting to rewrite them with your nicest, smoothest gel pel? Thoughts of what to wear, your style of makeup, and which perfume you should choose amongst the few on your dresser were awfully overwhelming. In fact, you were almost late to the park, the area Seungcheol had picked as a rendezvous point.

He rose from the bench in front of the duck pond once you arrived, checking the time on his wrist while making a tsking sound.

“Four and a half minutes late,” Seungcheol said, shaking his head, “you’re not making a good first impression, my lady.”

Obviously, you weren’t going to admit how you were stressing about a technically-fake date. In the end, you threw on a simple outfit and applied some lipstick on your way out the door, shoving the tube into a small purse hung over your shoulder. It’s not like he was treating you to a five-star restaurant by romantic candlelight. But if he ever did, you had the perfect outfit planned.

“Well, I’m here now. And with your dare.” You grinned.

Seungcheol stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Let’s hear it.”

“I dare you to buy me a week of coffee.”

At first, Seungcheol didn’t utter a thing. But then he erupted into a fit of laughter until his cheeks turned rosy like peaches.

“That’s not how this works,” he half-sighed, half-chuckled while removing a tear from his eye, “I’m rejecting it.”

“You can’t reject it! You definitely owe me. I didn’t let you lose to tweedle-dumb or tweedle-idiot. Plus, it’s low to ask someone out on a dare. I didn’t even have to show up.” Ensuring your tone was confident, you folded your arms over your chest, raised your brow at the boy, and observed him as he tapped his foot in contemplation.

“Can I have time to consider?” Seungcheol asked.

While it was tough to capitulate so easily and let him have his way, you didn’t want to spend the entirety of your night standing next to a slimy pond, debating the regulations. So you bit the bullet. Besides, Seungcheol announced that there was a party he needed to stop by, that there was a particular someone to which he owned money. It was a short walk to this brick house that reverberated with music, cars stalled up and down the street while a flood of strobing colours illuminated in the windows. Seungcheol knocked on the door quite loudly, and then he reached for your hand, wrapping his fingers around yours. You shot him a puzzled glance just as the door swung open, the stench of marijuana mingling with the cool, night air.

“Well, well, well,” a fox-eyed boy murmured after taking a long puff from his blunt, “Choi Seungcheol. It’s about damn time.”

“I was in the neighbourhood. Heard you and Soonyoung were lighting this place up. What a good turnout, huh?”

“Mmhm,” the other boy hummed unenthusiastically, leaning his wide shoulder against the doorframe, “you got the money or no?”

Seungcheol laughed. “C’mon, Wonwoo. We don’t even get to go inside? Hang out for a bit? Have a drink? You’re a shitty host.”

Wonwoo slid a finger under his chin, rubbing in contemplation. It was starting to get colder out, for you could hear the tree leaves rustling together as a wind whisked through the dark. You squished yourself a bit closer into Seungcheol’s side, and to your surprise, he let go of your hand and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. Finally, Wonwoo concurred, sticking the rolled paper back between his lips while stepping aside with an inviting gesture.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” the boy muttered, “but I’ll be coming to find you in about ten minutes. And I wanna see cash.”

“What’s his problem?” You whispered by Seungcheol’s ear as he guided you around an illy lit corner, into the kitchen.

His warm breath feathered your ear as he said, “I lost a couple bets to him and was slow getting the money back.” Seungcheol then grabbed two solo cups organized in a stack on the counter, filling each with a red, fruit-mixed alcohol which sat in two glass bowls.

“Don’t worry, he’s harmless.”

You accepted the cup and took a sip. “Oh, in case you needed to beat him up? I don’t know,” you lilted, “he looks pretty sturdy.”

“Are you kidding?” Seungcheol gawked.

He slapped his drink down on the counter and threw his jacket over the back of a chair. With a perplexed, is this man crazy expression, you watched him roll up his sleeve and flex his bicep.

“Go ahead,” the boy grinned, “you’ll see.”

You made sure to roll your eyes and sigh incredibly loud in order to really establish your indifference. Meanwhile, your inner-self was fizzling like a carbonated soda. Grabbing onto Seungcheol’s muscle, you pressed down, forcing back a surprised chuckle at the fact his arm was hard as a rock. In that moment your meter of attraction toward the boy was ticking so absurdly you thought it could break.

“Okay, I’ll give it to you, Seungcheol. You’re strong.”

He tugged his sleeve back down and slid into the jacket again, a very brash smirk beaming on his face. You couldn’t decipher if he’d actually been attempting to impress you or if that was just a display of his cockiness. And yet, you didn’t really care which category it fell into, because you were still blissfully afloat thinking about Seungcheol’s arms. You lifted your drink and took another sip, swishing the sweet but tangy flavour between your cheeks. At that moment, a man you didn’t recognize attempted to scoot behind you – except there was definitely enough room for him to get by without planting his hands on your hips and squeezing them.

“Hey! What the hell?” You squeaked, quickly turning around on your heel to see the crookedly amused look he stared at you with.

“What?” He somehow had the audacity to respond.

But you weren’t going to accept his disgraceful maneuvers, and neither was Seungcheol. He abandoned his cup on the counter and pushed up his sleeves.

“Did you just put your hands on her?” Came his demand. It didn’t sound like the normal, relaxed Seungcheol who liked his jokes, but someone with an unnerving amount of authority and fearlessness.

“I-I was trying to get by.” The man stammered, clearly uncomfortable with the thought of confrontation. He was already stepping backward as Seungcheol approached him.

“Don’t touch other people like that,” Seungcheol admonished him in a deep, staid voice, then pointed toward the threshold of the kitchen, “just get out, man. Seriously. Don’t even go near her.” And like a saddened puppy who received a scolding from its owners to lay down in the pen, the man slinked away without another word.

You were unsure of what to say to Seungcheol for diminishing the situation. Folding your arms tightly, you nodded at him.

“Thanks.”

Wonwoo came wandering into the kitchen. His eyes brightened the moment he saw Seungcheol, and he rubbed his fingers together to wordlessly convey that he wanted his money now.

“It’s alright,” Seungcheol gave you a soft smile while he revealed a large wad of cash from his pocket, “he was a weirdo.”

“Yeah.” You laughed as Seungcheol handed the sum to his friend, who fleshed out the paper notes to count the correct amount.

It took you a moment to realize that Seungcheol’s arm had wrapped back around your shoulders, this time a bit more securely. When you leaned into him, it wasn’t because you felt a draft or a chill, but because he was comfortable. He felt and smelled like safety.

Later that night, you returned to the park, throwing stones into the duck pond while the moon was hidden behind a thin curtain of clouds. Seungcheol claimed that he could throw his stones farther than yours, which prompted your short-lived competition. It had ended so abruptly because you ran out of stones to throw. At one point you tried tossing sticks, but they didn’t travel as far, and they definitely didn’t break the surface of the water with a satisfying plop.

“Hey,” Seungcheol said, nudging your elbow excitedly, “I dare you to get in the pond.”

“No way!” You cackled. “It’s freezing. And that pond is nasty.”

“Just dip your toe in or something.”

“You dip your toe in!”

“I don’t wanna take off my socks.”

You huffed, a plume of your breath escaping into the crisp air.

“Well, we’re at a crossroads then, aren’t we?”

Rather than continue bickering about the dare, you were starting to feel these annoying hunger pangs. You didn’t eat dinner because of how nervous you were toward this fake date (which was rapidly morphing into a very real date) with Seungcheol. The most you ate today had been some toast and pieces of apple your roommate cut the night before. Directly on cue, your stomach gurgled, and your face swelled hot with embarrassment. Seungcheol grinned.

“Hungry?”

“Starving, more like.” You corrected him.

He pulled out the white fabric liners of his pockets, revealing they were completely empty. “All my cash went to Wonwoo.”

You flashed a playful smile while repeating his statement from earlier. “Oh, wow. Not being able to cover the meal on a first date? You’re not making a good impression, sweetheart.”

In an instant, Seungcheol had snatched your hand, interlocking your fingers together warmly. He began tugging you out of the park and onto a familiar street, where there was a twenty-four-hour diner that the students absolutely loved. Admittedly, you had been there a few times. Once as a giggly drunk who just wanted a waffle plate at three in the morning, and also as a struggling student who was desperate for a cup of coffee in order to power through a procrastinated essay. Now, it seemed you were returning for a date.

“I’ll pay you back, promise.” Seungcheol said as the server placed a nacho platter onto the table. “It’s my new priority.”

The diner was quiet and mostly empty apart from a group of three seated at another table. You didn’t realize just how hungry you were until that first taste of melted cheese, salsa, and seared chicken hit your mouth. Seungcheol didn’t like black olives, so he kept picking them off. You were eating too ravenously to inspect your food.

“You’re taking the olives off?” You smirked. “Baby.”

Seungcheol scoffed. “I am not a baby.” He looked up at you as he shoved another delicious chip in his mouth. “And I know it gives you some sick, twisted pleasure to say that. You should be ashamed.”

Nearly choking on the water you just sipped, you dropped the cup back on the table to cough a few times.

“You know what’s sick? The fact I’m paying.”

The boy reached for his glass of coca cola. “Yeah, but technically this isn’t a real date. So, doesn’t count.”

“Really?” Raising a questioned eyebrow, you watched Seungcheol take a long gulp from his drink. “Are you willing to say that with your entire chest? That this isn’t a real date?”

And in that moment, Seungcheol genuinely seemed to have met a stupor. In fact, there was a red tint dusting the crest of each his cheeks. He leaned back in the booth, folded his arms over his chest, and pursed his lips. You waited patiently for his response, lifting a nacho to your mouth while threads of cheese dangled in the air.

A smile broke through his stiff, musing expression.

“Okay,” he nodded his head, “maybe this is a real date,” (your heart impossibly fluttered), “you could be right about that.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.” You answered.

In truth, you couldn’t have been more delighted to hear Seungcheol agree, because if he hadn’t, you would have dined and dashed, fled straight out the restaurant in a haze of shame and embarrassment. In the span of just a few hours, your attraction toward this boy had impressively expanded like a sponge soaking up water. Before, you weren’t positive that he could be your true love. It was mostly a running joke between you and… well, yourself. However, this one night was proving that perhaps your joke could have some actual weight to it. And as Seungcheol continued to make you laugh, choke on your food, stare at him in complete adoration like he was a crowned jewel, you completely lost track of time.

It wasn’t until you burst into another frenzy of laughter at his story and spilt water all down your shirt that you finally checked your phone. Almost one in the morning. The server whisked your cutlery and plates away with a tired expression. You tipped generously, feeling rather guilty for creating such a racket at this hour.

“Do you want my jacket?” Seungcheol asked as you prepared to leave. There was a huge water stain soaking through your shirt.

“A-Are you sure?” You asked him, pulling a few strands of hair from your face. He nodded, already wrestling the jacket off.

“Go change, sweetheart,” Seungcheol told you so casually that you couldn’t hide this blatant look of surprise, “I’ll wait outside.”

Entering a washroom stall, you peeled the damp shirt over your head and folded it to pack nicely within your purse. You then slipped into Seungcheol’s jacket, which had this wonderful, warm fleece patched to the inside. It was soft against your bare skin, and it smelled like a fragrant hint of his cologne. After spending an extra moment freshening up at the sink, you wandered back into the cool night, where Seungcheol was leaning against a street pole. You weren’t sure if your eyes were playing tricks at the late hour, or if he’d actually given you a very smug, very relishing once-over.

Considering you had class early the next day, you asked Seungcheol if he’d be willing to walk you home. He obliged, and you paced together in comfortable silence until reaching the bridge. It arched over a swirling, gushing river which ran through the city, the current black as kohl and reflecting the lights of the nearby architecture. In the daytime this bridge wasn’t anything spectacular, but it was a beautiful vantage point during the night; a place to watch the city sparkle and flash like the cosmos.

“Hey,” Seungcheol whispered, grabbing your hand, “I have another dare for you, since you chickened out on the pond.”

You looked at the mischief compiling in his gaze. “What?”

“Climb up there.”

Seungcheol pointed toward a thick, metal beam that slanted upward, like a ramp. It flattened out at the top, and sometimes when you walked by during the day, there would be a few students sitting down after class, eating sandwiches or cracking open sodas. A placement of bars was set behind, only wide enough to stick your leg through. You glanced back at Seungcheol and nodded.

“Okay, fine.”

And so you began to climb up the slanted beam, feeling the breeze nip at your cheeks, your hair, like the smallest of kisses. At the flattened section, you turned around and looked down at Seungcheol, feeling like the empress of a powerful kingdom. His face ignited in the moonlight. He was smiling very wide as you stuck out your tongue.

“Easy. I dare you to climb up here.”

Seungcheol shook his head. “I, uh, can’t.”

“Why not?” You laughed, folding your arms. “Scared?”

“No, I just—I twisted my ankle, so I can’t.”

“When was that?”

“You weren’t looking.”

Rolling your eyes, you decided to tease him. Taking the zipper dangling from his jacket, you began to pull it down slowly, revealing a hidden amount of skin which turned the boy’s face an adorable pink.

“If you come up here, I’ll take the jacket all the way off.” You sang in a promiscuous tone, lifting up the strap of your bra and snapping it. Seungcheol grinned, cupping a hand over his gaze.

“No way. I’m not falling into a trap like that.”

“Fine,” you huffed, lowering to your butt and carefully scooting your way down the metallic beam, “you missed out.”

Seungcheol merely held his tongue; however, he did take the zipper on his jacket and pull it back up, right to your chin, hiding the expanse of flesh from the bright moonlight. You weren’t sure what courageous energy had just taken over your body. In fact, you’d probably regret such a thing by the time your alarm clock erupted tomorrow morning, pulling you from the pit of your sleep.

“I don’t want you getting cold.” He said. “And I can’t believe you nearly gave me a strip tease from the support beam of a bridge. That’s a first.”

“I’m just making sure you don’t forget this date.” You chuckled, half in nonsense, half in truth.

As he promised, Seungcheol walked you back to the house and made sure the door unlocked using the spare key under the letter box. Thankfully, your roommate left the lights of the front porch on, the bulbs now swathed in grey moths. It was a strange night. A night that wouldn’t have happened if not for the antics of Seungcheol and his two equally competitive friends. Maybe there was a positive side to burning Joshua’s chemistry notes, though you weren’t sure he’d be thrilled to hear you admit that. A game of I Dare You, turned into a fake date, turned into a real date, turned into a sweet affection.

You yawned, feeling the faint glisten of tears stretch in your eyes. “I had fun. And I guess I’ll see you tomorrow in toxicology.”

“With my jacket.” He reminded you.

“Yes, of course. With your jacket.”

And while you expected Seungcheol to simply bid his goodnight and perhaps take a late bus home, firing question after question of why he decided to accept such a stupid dare as he stared out the window, you were surprised when he reached for your hand.

“By the way,” he said, “I accept.”

You crinkled your nose. “Accept what?”

“The dare. I’ll buy you coffee every morning this week.”

“Oh!” There was a small flare crackling to life in your eyes as you recalled the original dare of the night. “That’s right. I forgot.”

“Yeah, I’ll do it.” Seungcheol agreed. He then squeezed your hand. “On the account of one very simple condition.”

“I don’t think you can do that. Doesn’t seem rule-abiding.”

The boy discarded your comment. Instead, his grasp became tighter around your hand. He pulled you swiftly into his chest and stared straight into your helpless, panicking eyes as though he were going to confess something profound and utterly dire.

He smirked. “I want you to kiss me each time.”

Seungcheol lifted his brow in anticipation of your response, which was an undoubted agreement. Probably the fastest, easiest agreement you had ever made in your life. He moved in close to your ear, whispering something about how you should meet at the café tomorrow morning and walk to the lecture hall together, though you were ultimately buzzing and experiencing such a bold heartbeat that you missed most of the details. When he pulled away, you smiled.

“That sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

Stepping off the porch, he turned back with a wave.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

✧✎ a/n: the reason i wanted to rewrite this fic was bc i still rly enjoy the concept. however, i cannot STAND my old style of writing, thus i decided to just rewrite the fic and appease the nagging in my head lol. this is how i would have written this fic today if i hadn’t already done so four years ago. i’m also questioning the possibility of rewriting love café for jeonghan (pls don’t go reading it if u haven’t already) but that would take much longer ,,,, JUST AN IDEA THOUGH. i hope you enjoyed!!

#seventeen scenarios #seungcheol scenarios #svt fanfic #seungcheol fanfic #choi seungcheol #s.coups scenario #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #scoups fluff #svt x reader #seungcheol x reader

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

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Day 26, Post #1 by @cheesyficwriter

Title: The Greatest Chapter

Author: cheesyficwriter

Pairing: Harry/Ginny

Prompt: Moving in together

Rating: T

Trigger Warnings: None

Prompt: Moving in together

The Greatest Chapter

At age 10, I had the most embarrassing schoolgirl crush on Harry Potter. I'd see him and run in the opposite direction, painting the perfect image of me as a young girl who lacked the confidence needed to formulate words — any words — around someone I liked.

Before getting to know Harry for who he really was, I was so infatuated with the idea of the Boy-Who-Lived. I wanted so desperately to be going to Hogwarts with Ron before I was old enough, knowing that Harry Potter would be there too.

The way Harry took on a basilisk to save my life during my first year did nothing but solidify my growing feelings for him. My crush never really went away but instead transformed into a casual friendship based upon our shared experience in the Chamber of Secrets, a friendship that I was willing to accept at the time because I just wanted to be around him.

As we grew up, I started to relax more in his presence. We gained a mutual respect for one another, exchanging laughs in the Great Hall and sharing in-jokes during Christmases at the Burrow. Those little moments, in between all of the chaos and turmoil of what used to be, helped me learn a few things about Harry that I wouldn’t have discovered otherwise — not even on the front page of The Daily Prophet.

When I was younger, I admired Harry because I was under the impression that he possessed traits that I didn’t. I never imagined that I could be as brave, or courageous, or charismatic as he was to me. What surprised me the most about our developing friendship at Hogwarts was that there were far more similarities between us than differences. We shared the same wicked sense of humor — that I like to say I inherited from my plethora of brothers — yet could still hold my own during quick-witted battles, and I often found myself looking at Harry whenever something made me laugh, just to see if he was laughing, too. My stomach always spiraled when, more often than not, I found him looking back at me. We used our shared humor to our advantage, and I was thankful for that small respite in the midst of so much darkness.

We shared the same values, both of us realizing the importance of family, friends, and love above everything else. It’s what we fought for every day, even when it seemed like we were too young to really know what love was.

As our friendship continued, my romantic feelings for Harry were buried deep down in a place where I was once convinced they would stay. I decided to throw all of my energy into school, developing my skills as a witch, thus growing the confidence I needed along the way to put myself out there with other, more available boys.

For years, we were caught up in our own lives, and it shocked me more than anyone to have captured Harry’s attention when I least expected it. From the first moment he kissed me, I never hesitated. All of those feelings I had attempted to bury came rushing back to the surface, like revealing a galleon that I had stashed at the bottom of my trunk.

I will never forget those few stolen weeks we had together when I was 15 and he was 16. He described it as something out of someone else’s life, and at the time, I had thought that was all we would ever be. Time was fleeting, and there wasn’t enough of it.

Harry had no choice but to dedicate his life to fighting for the wizarding world, and I was always determined to be right there beside him, up until the point where I couldn’t. I was smart enough to understand why he didn’t ask me to come with him. It was his mission. His, Ron’s, and Hermione’s. I didn’t often miss the times the three of them carried on by themselves, engaging in secret conversation and disappearing without the faintest clue of their whereabouts until much later.

On that fateful day that Harry broke things off, I already knew what he was so desperately trying to convey to me. If I were to have accompanied him on the Horcrux hunt, it would’ve been me he was worried about instead of finding the pieces of Voldemort’s soul that were crucial to defeating him.

That notion — although tragic in a sense — gave me more pleasure than the feeling of scoring an impossible goal during a Quidditch match.

Regardless, Harry was never far from my mind those long months that he was gone. My childhood crush seemed silly at that point because I had gained so much more than a fleeting romance.

As time passed, and Harry and I found our way back to each other after Voldemort's defeat, it took us a minute to catch our bearings and resume our relationship that we had put on an indefinite pause.

It hadn’t always been easy dating him. In fact, dealing with the fame that Harry carried around with him from being a war hero had been a lot harder than I ever anticipated. But it was always unspoken that we managed, despite what any publishings had to say about us.

I came to love him, not for being Harry Potter, but for who he truly was. His heart. His courage.

As I stood reflecting on my relationship with Harry in the drawing room of 12 Grimmauld Place, I was overcome with emotion. Our relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was the one we were destined to have, and that made every hardship worth it.

The room housed a large window overlooking the street, a charming — albeit dusty — fireplace, and ornate fixtures. For a person who just moved in, I felt like the house itself could have been in worse shape. Harry did an exceptional job keeping the place organized, especially for someone who, up until just a few days ago, lived there by himself.

That’s not to say I hadn’t already spent plenty of nights at Grimmauld Place over the last couple of years. In fact, I probably spent more nights there than I did at the Burrow once I returned home from my final year at Hogwarts.

It was during those nights that I discovered just a fraction of the pain Harry went through. He’d always been intensely emotional, and so many nights I spent shaking him from his residual nightmares of the trauma he went through, despite the wizarding world being in a much better place. I comforted him the best I could in those moments, determined to make it clear to him that I’m never letting go — not this time.

I smiled to myself as I took a seat on the piano bench, observing the peeling paint from one of the large, cracked walls. We had a lot of work to do, but moving in together was a proper next step for us.

"Gin? Are you home?" Harry’s voice carried through the dusty walls.

Before I could respond, Harry was already standing in the open archway, head tilted to the side with curiosity etched across his face. “Were you just staring at a blank wall?”

I crossed my arms, determined not to let him know about my extensive reflection into our past. “So what if I was, Potter?”

He looked as if he wanted to question my retort further but instead joined me at the piano, bumping his shoulder with mine.

“It’s a lot of fun coming home to you,” he admitted, the rich, melodic sound of the piano filling the open space from his fingertips pressing against one of the keys.

“You know that’s practically how we were before, right? When was the last time we spent a night apart?”

Harry shrugged, and it was clear he never really thought about it. “Dunno, but it was one night too many, I reckon.”

I sighed, wanting to ask a question that had been weighing on my heart. “Do you find it odd that we’ve never really argued? I mean, even when you broke up with me-”

“Why must we go back to that?” Harry interrupted, a pained look crossing his face.

I gave him a playful pat on the arm. I wanted our past to be something positive we could look back on and didn’t fancy dwelling on the shit times.

“Shush. I’m just saying, even though it hurt a lot to not know where you were for almost a year, I always understood your decision. You had to go.”

Harry’s eyebrows knitted together, clearly still trying to work out the point of the conversation. “Where are you going with this?”

“I just-I can’t believe I’m saying this,” I rubbed my temple to ease my stressed-out mind. “I’m actually worried that we will never fight.”

“Oh, we’ll fight.”

I turned towards Harry, who was too busy fiddling with the piano keys to even look at me. He responded straight away, like he didn’t even have to think about it. “How can you be so certain?”

Harry snorted. “I’ve witnessed you get all hot-headed when you disagree with other people.” He sent me a dazzling grin, reaching out to trail his fingers through my stray ginger strands that hung loose from my ponytail. “You’ve got that fiery red hair. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Hey!”

“In fact,” Harry smirked with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I think you’re the most problematic person I know, Ginevra.”

Harry yelped when I pinched his forearm. “You prat.”

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to pull me closer. “In all seriousness, though, we’re going to be fine.”

I stared at him in awe but leaned into him. “You are so sure of yourself.”

He grabbed my shoulders, pivoting our bodies so that we were facing each other on the bench. “You wanna know how sure I am?”

Before I could respond or even react, he kissed me full on the mouth. He growled as our kiss intensified, and all at once, our positions shifted as I felt a sharp pain in my back from my body making contact with the piano keys with a resounding trill. I was left dizzy and breathless, snogging Harry as a wave of happiness resonated through me.

When he pulled away, his fierce emerald eyes locked on mine set my mind ablaze. “Does that answer your question?”

I decided his question didn’t require a verbal response, so I simply attached my hand to the nape of his neck before dragging his face back to mine. We didn’t talk much for a while after that.

I knew, perhaps more than anyone else, how much Harry desired moving forward from the past. I’m ready, too, to start the greatest chapter of our lives.

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission #hinny #harry x ginny

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ipuckwithhockey · 4 years

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History Repeats Itself- B. Boeser

a/n: This somehow ended up being around 11k words, so I hope y’all enjoy it! Also, I only did a quick scan for grammar and spelling so sorry if there are errors!

summary: You and Brock met once back in college when you were still committed to your high school boyfriend. Years later you’re single and older and just starting a new job in Vancouver. The only question now is whether or not you will take the opportunity to rewrite your own history.

warnings: None that I can think of

“So, are you in or no?” Y/N’s roommate asks her as they walk out of the library and toward their dorm.

“I don’t think so Mags, I actually have some studying to catch up on.” You reply unconvincingly. Midterms of your first semester at the University of North Dakota just came to a close, and your excuse of having homework on a Friday night wasn’t convincing anyone.

“Y/N, seriously? You aced all of your midterms and we just spent three hours in the fucking library! Live a little! The hockey team is having a huge party, and the guys are really fun AND super hot! You deserve this!” Maggie tries to convince you to come out to a party that the UND Hockey team is having tonight, and you tell yourself not to give in.

“Maggie, I have a boyfriend. And you know they don’t let guys who aren’t on the team into their parties. God, it’s basically a frat.” You scoff at the idea of a frat party, but there’s still a small part of you that wants to experience the chaos of a real college party. That’s probably why it ends up being so easy for Maggie to convince you to slip into a pair of skinny jeans and a cute top before embarking on a night out.

“Y/N, this is Nick and Brock. They’re both in my econ class. Nick is a sophomore, but Brock here is a freshman like us!” Maggie happily introduces you to the two tall boys as you enter an old musty house, full to the brim with college kids. The air smells like stale alcohol and you take note that your shoes are somehow already sticky. You’re not sure if it’s from something you stepped in or if it’s just the floor in general.

“Hey, nice to meet you.” You shake Brock’s hand that he’s extended for you and you can’t help but stare a little too long, taking in his blonde hair and ocean-blue eyes.

You had to admit though, Katie was right, these guys are super hot. You can already tell your roommate has her eye on this Nick guy, and it actually looks like he might be interested in her too. He’s just her type— He’s hot and he knows it, and his dark hair and striking features draw the eyes of nearly every girl in the room. The blonde boy who stands across from you is quite honestly the opposite of Nick. Brock is also undeniably good-looking, but he’s shy and his light hair and soft smile make him seem less intimidating than his friend.

Nick finds you and Katie some drinks and some other girls you’ve become friends with show up to the party a little later. The boys come and go as they mingle with other people and their teammates, but Nick tends to stay close by to Maggie and you catch glimpses of Brock occasionally. Apparently his shyness doesn’t apply to his teammates. You can’t help but chuckle as you watch him and his friends dance together to some shitty remix of a song you used to blast on your way to school. You’re actually having a great time, but you can’t hear your phone ringing over the music that’s blaring through the house you’re in. Later, Nick offers to walk you and Maggie home after a few hours of living like a real college kid, and Brock ends up tagging along since he apparently lives in the same building.

“So, how come we haven’t met you before tonight? This one talks about you all the time.” The four of you are walking across campus and Nick has Maggie under his arm as he asks why you never seem to be with your roommate.

“She has a boyfriend. And I’m pretty sure he’s allergic to having fun.” Maggie quips as some of the alcohol she’s consumed tonight gives her the courage to openly criticize your relationship.

“Maggie.” You say in a warning tone. “He’s just not a big partier, and usually I’m not either.” You shove at her shoulder lightly. Maggie was nice and you liked being her roommate, but when you first met and told her you had followed your high school boyfriend across the country to attend a university in “North fucking Dakota” she immediately expressed how crazy she thought you were. In her eyes there was no way that a couple who started dating when they were fifteen would last forever. You disagreed, which is why you turned down your scholarship to an ivy league and followed your boyfriend to North Fucking Dakota. His family was from North Dakota, and for some reason everyone in their family had to go to school there too. At the time, you didn’t see it as giving something up, you saw it as you and your boyfriend starting a life together outside the confines of your hometown.

“So, what floor do you live on, Brock?” Maggie asks as the four of you make your way up to your building.

“I’m on 4— Room 405. What about you guys?” Brock asks back.

“We’re 219.” You say back before you’re startled as you hear another voice you’re not exactly expecting.

“Y/N! Where the hell have you been?” The group you’re with is almost to the doors of your dorm building when a perturbed voice yells for you.

“Uh- Owen. What are you doing here?” You’re surprised to see your boyfriend standing in front of you, looking like he’s seeing red. You weren’t even supposed to be seeing him at all tonight. He had told you he was going to be occupied for the evening while he was studying for his physics exam. You hadn’t told him you were going to the party, but at the time you didn’t think it was important. Owen preferred that you didn’t bother him while he was studying, so you decided against calling him before your night out.

“I’ve been calling you for like two hours— God have you been drinking?” The rest of the group you were with tonight looks uncomfortable to say the least, and you can’t blame them. Owen wasn’t the best at saving face, especially when he felt like someone hadn’t upheld the standards that he had set out for them. Now he just looked like a dad reprimanding their child, and a wave of embarrassment quickly washed over you.

“I just- We went to a party. I didn’t think you’d mind. You were supposed to be studying all night,” You say sheepishly, as you begin to regret letting Maggie convince you to go out. Before Owen can clap back again, Maggie nudges you and tells you that the three of them are going to go, not wanting to invade on your private life any longer.

When they’re gone, Owen starts again, “This just isn’t like you. I’m so disappointed.” You feel bad now, you know you haven’t done anything wrong, but Owen’s words make you feel like you have, so you tuck your tail between your legs as follow him back to his dorm and apologize for what you did.

That was almost five years ago. You dated Owen for longer than you’d like to admit but eventually you removed your rose-colored glasses and broke up with him. You graduated from UND and got a second chance at your Ivy League dreams when went to graduate school. Now, you’ve completed your masters and have been offered a promotion at you job. The only catch was that the new position required you to move to the west coast… of Canada.

You moved almost two months ago, and your raise was enough to allow you to move into a nice building downtown. Work takes up most of your time now, so you haven’t been able to explore the city as much as you would like, but you can already tell your decision to make Vancouver your new home was a good one. The laid back and easy feeling you get from this city is completely different from the big east coast metropolis you had been living in before, and even though you’re working more than ever, you feel like you can actually breathe here.

Since your breakup with Owen your senior year at UND, you’ve taken time to take back your life. You try your best not to ponder on the past anymore, and you focus on your own future. It can’t be denied that at first it was hard not to remain bitter at the idea that you had so willingly given up many things in your life, for a boy who took them too eagerly. You worked through it though and took back your life by focusing on your own goals and working on furthering your own career. The past is the past now, and you were ready to start this new life in Vancouver.

“I actually can’t believe you’re wearing that.” Elias mocks at Brock as they step out of the elevator and into the lobby of Brock’s apartment building. Brock is sporting a bucket hat, and even though he knows Elias is joking, he wonders if he shouldn’t have just left the hat sitting on his kitchen counter. The two of them are bickering back and forth about their fashion choices, and Brock almost misses you as you walk past him. Almost. He recognizes you immediately even though your hair is longer, and your face doesn’t look so much like a kid’s anymore.

“Hey, nice to meet you.” Brock extends his hand, hoping he doesn’t seem too nervous to the pretty girl he has just been introduced to. He’s a freshman, and a star on the UND hockey team, which kind of makes him North Dakotan royalty. Since starting college, he’s learned what to say and how to say it, to get a girl’s attention, but he’s not the overly confident guy that his friend, Nick is. Nick lays it on thick and loves the attention he gets. Brock likes it, it’s fun, but he’s more laid back, and not as worried about getting the girl. He just likes to have a good time with his friends and doesn’t really need all of the extra attention.

He would however like to have your attention. He makes some friendly conversation with you over the course of the night, but you stick close to your girlfriends, and he can’t tell if you’re not interested or if you just aren’t catching what he’s putting down.

Later that night, when Nick tells Brock that he is going to walk you and your roommate home, he’s quick to tag along. Even though he lives in the same building, he probably would have stayed at the party a little longer if you hadn’t been going with them. On the walk across campus, the four of you make some small talk, and Brock knows that Nick definitely thinks he’s getting laid tonight.

Brock can’t help but hope that Nick getting laid will mean you will need a hideout for a couple hours while your roommate occupies your shared room. Even though he’d happily accept it, he doesn’t think he’ll be getting laid. Brock just hopes that he’ll have some time to get to know you a little bit better, maybe get your number, and then eventually ask you out. It’s right then that Nick asks why they’ve never met you.

“She has a boyfriend. And I’m pretty sure he’s allergic to having fun.” Maggie replies, and Brock can’t help but be disappointed. You had a boyfriend. So it wasn’t that you weren’t interested, well it was, but it was only because you were already taken. Maybe you had even caught on to his light flirting, and he can’t help but think how embarrassing that is.

This embarrassment honestly wasn’t as bad as what was to come next. Brock isn’t sure if his secondhand embarrassment is worse than the embarrassment that you’re probably feeling as the guy, who is presumably your boyfriend, yells at you for going to a party. He can tell that you’re trying to play it cool, you’re definitely uncomfortable with scene that is unfolding. Brock isn’t sure what to do, and him and Nick exchange a few quick glances as to say, “what the fuck?” And next, he’s incredibly thankful that Maggie steps in to tell you that they’re going to head into the building.

“What the fuck was that?” Nick asks as the three of them get out of earshot from you and Owen.

“Meet Owen, the illustrious high school boyfriend.” Maggie’s sarcasm is clear, and Brock is surprised that someone who seems so sweet could be dating a guy like that.

That hockey party his first semester at UND was the last time Brock spoke to you. He left after his sophomore year when he signed with the Canucks and before he left, when he would see you on campus, you were usually with the jerk he only briefly encountered that first night. When you would pass him in the hallway of your dorm or even around campus you would usually avoid meeting his eye or offer one of those awkward tight-lipped smiles. Brock would always smile back, and he would wonder if you were actually happy with that guy, and occasionally he would tell himself that he could make you happier.

You felt bad as you essentially avoided him for the first few weeks after that party, but it got easier as time went on. The two of you barely knew each other, but for some reason every time that you did pass him, you were still enamored by his kind eyes and generous smile that only made you feel worse for avoiding him. Over time your friends, like Maggie, would eventually fall to the waste side too as your boyfriend continued to control your life. Maggie stopped asking you to hang out and when you moved in with Owen after your freshman year, you basically lost all connection with her. Everyone probably thought that you were a massive bitch because they perceived your actions as you choosing your boyfriend over them. They weren’t wrong, but you didn’t know at the time, that your priorities were extremely misguided.

Brock’s little crush was soon forgotten when he dove headfirst into the NHL. He was busy trying to establish himself in the league, and he found himself in a few lackluster relationships that usually ended in a mutual agreement that it just wasn’t working. He was a good guy, and even though he wasn’t a saint, he preferred to get to know a girl and take her to dinner before anything else. The girls he dated usually fell pretty hard for him. He’s unmistakably attractive and his endearing personality make him incredibly charming. They knew that they couldn’t hold on to him forever and that he didn’t want to hurt them, so they let him go and hoped that they would find another guy that was half as good.

Seeing you now is like a breath of fresh air for Brock; his little crush immediately rising to the surface after being buried away for so long.

“Y/N?” Brock lightly touches you on your arm to get your attention. You’re lost in the email you’re replying to on your phone, and you’re more than surprised when you turn to see the same light blue eyes that you met your freshman year of college.

“Brock?” It’s the only thing that your brain can formulate right now. Brock Boeser is probably the only person you know in Vancouver and yet he’s standing in front of you right now. You haven’t seen or spoken to him in years, and you can’t believe that he even remembers you.

“Hey, I thought that was you.” Brock says, as Elias notices the big smile that’s plastered across his friend’s face. “What are you doing in Vancouver?” Brock asks, wondering how a girl from the east coast who went to school in North Dakota, somehow ended up in Vancouver.

“I um- I live here. I just moved for my job a couple months ago,” You tell him.

“Oh, no way! Vancouver’s great, I’m sure you’ll love it here.” He replies, still taking in the fact that you’re standing in front of him.

“Yeah, I like it so far,” you say. “Do you live here? – Or I guess, in the building?” You ask. You know that he lives in Vancouver, you’re aware of his hockey career, but you’ve lived here for a couple months and have never seen him around.

“Yeah, I’ve been back in Minnesota for most of the summer, so I just got back a couple days ago.” He tells you. You never really put much thought into where athletes go after their season ends, but it makes sense that they would go back to wherever they call home.

Elias nudges Brock to remind him that he’s still standing awkwardly beside him. “Oh, this is Petey,” Brock turns to introduce you to his friend that you already recognize, “It’s Elias, nice to meet you.” Elias says as he offers his hand to you.

“Yeah, I know.” You let out a light laugh and think about all of the Vancouver Canucks posters you’ve seen him on throughout the city. You’ve seen posters of Brock too, but you barely even know the guy, so it’s never really struck you as anything out of the ordinary.

“Are you a Canucks fan?” Elias asks.

You laugh a little, “Oh, no. I don’t follow hockey or really any sports, but everyone at work does, so I’ve been trying to learn a bit about it to keep up with the water cooler conversations.” You laugh again because it’s true. You’ve never really been tuned into sports, but your new office is basically all men, and they’re all huge Canucks fans, so your google searches of the team’s stats and roster have helped you become familiar with the team before their season starts.

“Well, you’ll have to come to a game some time.” Brock tells you.

“Um yeah. Maybe.” You offer back, mentally debating on if that would ever actually happen, but knowing that he’s only being polite. “I um- I’ve actually got to go, but it was great running into you.” You smile, and say goodbye to the two blonde boys and make your way up to your apartment.

Brock Boeser lives in your building. Again. You laugh, thinking about how funny it is that history is repeating itself. He’s just as cute as he was the first time you met, but the truth is you barely know each other, and you’re sure he remembers that you were probably a massive bitch in college who avoided him at all costs. You don’t let the thought of him linger too long and push it to the side to get on the realities of your life instead of continuing to mull over the past.

Over the next month or so, you continue to run into Brock in the elevator or in the lobby of your building. He always says hi and greets you with the same sweet smile. You make polite conversation and he’s so charming sometimes that it makes you blush. It starts off with awkward hellos and goodbyes, then you start to make small talk, and soon enough conversation between the two of you becomes pretty effortless. His little jokes are usually so dumb, but they make you laugh and you truly appreciate that he’s always so nice. You start to open up a bit more and aren’t as hesitant when he asks you innocent questions about your life.

You got to meet Coolie and Milo the other day, and Brock says that they are particularly fond of you. They both seem to be the sweetest dogs in the world, so you’re sure they’re just as good for everyone else. You see them ever so often when Brock takes them on walks around town, and he loves the way your eyes light up when you see his furry kids.

Brock usually asks you how work is going, even though your advanced corporate job goes way over his head, and you ask him about hockey, which you also have little to no knowledge of. You both usually give short and uninteresting answers like “great” or “it’s going.” Then, just as Brock is trying to find more ways to get to know you, you tell him that you’ve been trying to educate yourself more on hockey. You explain that you primarily work with men, and these men happen to be very keyed in on the sport and particularly on the Vancouver Canucks. Now, every time he sees you, he asks you what you’ve learned.

Your conversations are still fairly short, but you tell him when you’ve finally learned all of the NHL team names, and understand each of the hockey positions. You explain some of the penalties and you’re pretty proud of yourself when your explanation of offsides gets an approval. When he asks you who you’ve decided your favorite player is, you tell him you like “that Boeser kid,” but not as much as you like Elias Pettersson. This gets a big laugh from him, and he tells you he doesn’t disagree with your analysis. This is a turning point for the two of you. Brock can tell that you’re becoming more comfortable with him, and he likes seeing this lighter side of you.

One day when you pass him in the parking lot, he’s on his way to a game, dressed in suit, but with a beanie on his head. You’ve seen him like this a number of times before, and you really don’t understand why he insists on covering up his beautiful hair with various hats. You also don’t mind admiring how good he looks in his game day apparel. He’s good looking, and it’s not a crime to admire that.

As you walk toward each other in the parking lot he calls out to you, “Hey, you learn anything new this week?” You laugh, because he usually starts the conversation like this, asking if you’ve studied up or done your homework.

“Actually, I have a question for you.” You tell him as you come up, stopping before you would pass each other.

“Okay, shoot.” He says.

“Well, that’s actually your job, but my question has to do with goalie interference. I just don’t really understand it. I was trying to find videos of calls during games, but all of the calls seem kind of inconsistent.” You tell him, and he laughs at your shooting joke, leaving you feeling proud for a moment. He’s also laughing because you’re right. No one fucking knows what goalie interference is.

“Yeah, I’m not even sure what goalie interference is half the time. But if you figure it out let me know!” He answers. You laugh, and the two of you begin to part ways.

Before he makes it to his car you shout back, “Oh, Good luck tonight!”

He smiles and thanks you before opening his car door and on his way to the rink he thinks about all of the little conversations the two of you have had over the course of last couple of months. His crush has only continued to grow, and Elias keeps nagging him to ask you out, but he’s not even sure if you’re single. With his luck, you’re probably married to that asshole from college, although he hasn’t noticed you with anyone and he hasn’t seen a ring on your finger.

After that night Brock decided he needed to figure out if you were single or not, so that he could move on from his infatuation with you instead of wasting his time pining over a girl who was already taken. You’re always polite, and more recently you’ve become more and more comfortable joking and bantering with him, but sometimes you give him a look like you’re not sure what to say.

That look is the look you get when you contemplate how you got here. Years ago, you couldn’t have fathomed having a simple conversation with Brock, but now you see him on a regular basis and make conversation like you’ve been friends for years. You appreciate his willingness to talk with you, and you enjoy your interactions more and more every day.

Brock knows that on Sunday morning you usually go for a walk down to the coffee shop on the corner, so today he grabs Coolie and Milo and heads for the door, hoping he’ll be lucky enough to run into you. He makes it all the way to the coffee shop without seeing you and he’s praying that when he opens the door to the store that you’ll be waiting inside.

No such luck.

When he doesn’t see you standing inside, he decides he should at least buy a coffee instead of awkwardly walking out. After he picks up his drink he walks across the street to the park so that Coolie and Milo can get some exercise. For some reason, the gods are on his side today, and a few minutes into his walk he sees you sitting on a bench under a tree, reading a book.

He doesn’t get to secretly admire how pretty you look sitting there, with the sun streaming down through the limbs of the trees, because Milo and Coolie have spotted you and are actively dragging him in your direction. You’re stirred from your reading and when you look up you see two big fur balls running toward you, their owner not far behind them.

“Hey! Sorry about them.” Brock apologizes as he tries to calm the dogs down. You’re laughing and smiling because Coolie has jumped up on the bench beside you. Brock tells them to get down as they continue to try and jump for your attention, and they eventually settle at his side.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind at all. I feel the same way when I see them,” you say, and it gets a light chuckle from Brock. He loves that you get so excited to see them and he cherishes the way your eyes light up when you reach down to pet them. He’s not sure what to say now, and before the silence gets too awkward you ask him if he wants to sit while motioning to the spot next to you. He gladly accepts your offer, and he sits down next to you.

“What are you reading?” He asks, attempting to facilitate some conversation.

You turn over the book in your hand so that he can see the cover, “It’s called Normal People.” You say before giving him a brief description. You also tell him it’s a series on Hulu and he says he’ll opt to watch that instead of reading the book, earning another laugh from you.

“So, did you leave the boyfriend behind or did you bring him with you?” He asks referring to some of the plot points of the book you had described to him. The question surprises you because one, there wasn’t a boyfriend, and two, why would Brock think there was a boyfriend? Your mind works fast enough to figure he might think that you’re still with Owen, but over the last couple months you don’t think you’ve given him any reason to think you would still be with him.

“Neither I guess. I didn’t have a boyfriend to leave or bring.” You answer, looking over at Brock. You’re sure you almost hear what sounds like a sigh of relief from him, but it happened too quickly to tell.

“I guess you and that guy from college didn’t work out?” Brock asks cautiously. He’s trying not to seem too eager, but he’s dying to know what ever happened between you and that jerk.

You let out a light laugh as you think back to your previous relationship, “No, it definitely didn’t work out.” You say back. “We were obviously super young; we started dating when we were fifteen,” you sigh. “Anyway, I think it just took some time to realize I wasn’t going to marry a guy I thought was cute in my 9th grade biology class. We just didn’t have anything in common anymore. And he turned out to be a total jerk.” It feels surprisingly easy talking to Brock about this. You’ve felt so much shame and embarrassment for staying with this guy from high school for so long, but Brock’s eyes don’t convey any judgement or reason to feel ashamed.

After that you gracefully shift the conversation to Brock’s love life. It was only fair, and when you asked him if he had a special lady- or man in his life, his cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. It isn’t because you asked him if he was perhaps seeing a man, but because he was just so flustered by you and your questioning of his love life at all.

“Nope. No ladies... Or men for that matter.” He says with a little laugh.

“Really? A star hockey player like you doesn’t have girls lined up waiting for their chance to be with you?” You tease, as you can see, he’s still blushing a bit. You don’t think much of it, other than that he’s probably just shy about those things, but you don’t really feel too bad about teasing him. He continues to convince you that there aren’t any other ladies in his life, and eventually the topic of conversation is forgotten.

Brock walks back to the apartment building with you, and when you get in the elevator you remember that you’re going to be attending a Canucks game next week, “I almost forgot! I’m going to the Preds game next week!” You tell him, and his expression lights up hearing you say that you’ll be attending one of his games. “Some of the guys from work invited me to go with them. I think I’ve really won them over with my new hockey knowledge,” You tell him proudly.

Some of the guys from work who are particularly invested in the hockey team invited you to come with them to a game, and you happily accepted the invitation. You had proven yourself to them as a colleague and now as a hockey fan too.

“I guess we’ll have to get a win for you guys.” Brock replies confidently. The Canucks have had a great record lately and it looks like their winning streak is just getting started. “You better!” You say before the elevator stops on your floor and you tell him you’ll see him later, leaving Brock to think about everything he’s learned about you that morning.

It’s Thursday, and this week has been hell.

Sadly, you’re used to dedicating most of your time to work, but this week has been a total shit show, for lack of better words. A big account you’ve been working on decided at the last minute that they wanted something completely different, causing you and your team to have to work some crazy hours this week. By Thursday you’re practically a zombie due to your lack of sleep. The hours you have spent at home have been minimal, as you’ve gotten home past ten almost every night this week, and you leave in the morning again before 7.

The guys on your team have all been working crazy hours too, but you’ve been taking the lead on this campaign, so you’ve made sure to be there early and late every single day. They can tell you’re just about out of gas, and they send you home early, telling you to rest up for the big presentation tomorrow. You try to argue, but they’re right, you need a break. You surrender and head home after stopping to get some takeout, knowing that your fridge at home is starkly empty.

“Ms.Y/L/N, I’ve got a package for you.” Paul, the concierge of your building tells you as you pass him on your way to the elevators. You haven’t made any online purchases as of late, and you don’t remember anyone telling you they were sending you anything. Still, you wait patiently as he goes to the back room to grab it. When Paul returns he’s holding a decent sized shopping bag. You’re not sure what it could be, but you take the bag and thank him, too focused on getting up to your apartment and out of your work pants.

As soon as the door to your apartment is closed behind you, you drop your bags onto the kitchen counter and slip out of your dress pants. Your bra follows shortly, and you settle into your couch with your take out. The rest of your evening is spent lounging on the couch, catching up on your shitty reality tv shows and taking a break from work. When you look down at your phone and see that it’s only 8:30 you tell yourself it’s too early to go to bed, but you’re exhausted and you bed is calling to you. As you gather your dishes and clean up your kitchen you’re reminded of the package you picked up on your way in.

The bag is still sitting on the counter where you left it a few hours ago. You take a minute to think about what it could be or who it could be from, but nothing comes to mind. When you open the bag all you see is some blue fabric. It feels like clothes, so you dump it over on to your counter and come to find that the bag is full of what looks like Vancouver Canucks gear. You’re in surprised to say the least. There are multiple pieces of clothing laying in front of you, and you’re sure it’s at least a few hundred dollars worth of apparel. There’s a note too, but you choose to look through the other contents first.

First off, there’s a navy blue hoodie with the classic Cancuks logo. There are two t-shirts, one has the Canucks throwback logo on it and the other has the pride logo printed on the front. You smile at that, knowing that he obviously knew you would like that one. Next, is a Canucks beanie with a pompom on the top. Finally, you unfold a royal blue jersey. You’re expecting to see a number six on the back but instead your eyes land on the number 40. You can’t help but feel a little sad for a minute, knowing he didn’t get you a jersey with his number on it.

Alas, you unfold the piece of paper that was sitting in the bottom of the bag and it reads:

I figured you might need some gear for the game Saturday. I hope everything fits okay.

If you ever need anything I’m Apt. 859, *his phone number*

-Brock

P.S. Petey insisted that I include his jersey since he’s “your favorite.”

You don’t feel as bad about it not being a Boeser jersey now, and you use a magnet to hang the note up on your fridge before folding your new gear and heading to bed, grinning ear to ear.

Your presentation goes off without a hitch the next day and you and your coworkers are ready to let loose a bit for the Cancuks game the following evening. You meet up with them at a bar that’s not far from the arena, and you grab a round of drinks before you head into the game. The four co-workers you meet up with take note of your Pettersson jersey, and you smile, satisfied with their praises. A couple of them are sporting jerseys too, one with Horvat and the other with a Boeser. You don’t mention that you know the guy who actually wears number 6, and when he scores the game winning goal you cheer just as loud as everyone else, but secretly you’d like to think it was because he knew you were there in the stands.

When you get home after the game you shoot Brock a quick text.

You: nice goal tonight! i think this pettersson jersey is lucky! (10:54pm)

You: this is y/n btw (10:54pm)

You’re not sure if he’ll reply so you set your phone down and start to go through your nightly routine. A few minutes later you hear your phone buzz from your night stand.

Brock: petey didn’t even score tonight and you’re still talking about him? maybe i’ll just take that jersey back (11:01pm)

You: hey, no take backs. but it was a very nice goal! (11:03pm)

Brock: how was your first game? (11:07pm)

You: my second favorite player scored, my team won, and my co-workers were impressed with my vast hockey knowledge so i’d say it went pretty well! (11:13pm)

You spend some time debating on how to word your message, not wanting to send a reply too fast, and not wanting to seem to flirty, but you still let yourself tease him a little bit more before hitting send.

Brock: HAHA. very funny. (11:14pm)

Brock: i’m glad you had a good time. (11:14pm)

Brock: we’ll have to get you to more games. it looks like you might be good luck. (11:15pm)

Sunday morning is your time to relax. You try not to do any work and opt to take some time for yourself. This can take many forms, like lounging around the house or even reorganizing your bathroom. Today you opt for baking. You bake a couple dozen brownies and place them in a container before slipping on some shoes to head up a few floors.

You hadn’t given it much thought until you were standing outside of his apartment door, but the two really only interact in the hallways or elevator and you’ve never been to each other’s apartments. The brownies in your hand are probably getting colder by the minute, and you know they taste the best when they’re still warm so you convince yourself to bring your knuckles to the door.

The person who answers the door isn’t Brock. The boy who answers is shorter and has dark hair. You recognize him as Quinn Hughes. Brock told you once that they call him huggy bear, but you’re not totally sure you know why.

“Uh-“ There aren’t words coming out of his mouth, it’s more like an awkward sound that you think it is meant to convey some sort of confusion.

“Um, Is Brock here?” You ask, offering a smile to the boy in front of you.

“Oh, yeah. Um, come on in.” Quinn doesn’t really know if he should be letting someone into his friends apartment, but Brock made him answer the door so he didn’t feel so bad about inviting a stranger in.

You walk through the door and take in Brock’s home. It’s similar to yours, but slightly bigger. He lives on a different side of the building so the windows are slightly different too. You follow Quinn into the living room where you see Elias and Brock and Jake Virtanen sitting on the couch playing video games. The dogs notice you first as you walk in and Quinn nudges Brock telling him someone is here for him before he turns around to see you.

“Y/N! To what do we owe the pleasure?” He asks as he stands from the couch.

“I uh, I just wanted to bring you these. I figured it’s the least I could do since you got me that lucky Pettersson jersey.” He lets out a solid laugh at that. You liked it when he laughed like that. He lets his head hang back and his hand rests on his stomach.

“Well thank you. You really didn’t have to do that.” He says as you hand him the box of brownies. He walks over to the kitchen counter and pulls the lid off. The smell of freshly baked brownies starts to fill the room, and the other boys are at the counter before you know it.

“Oh shit. Those look good.” Jake says as he eyes the baked goods.

The boys are quiet for the next couple minutes except for some humming and “yum” sounds that escape between bites. A couple dozen brownies is apparently no match for four hockey players. You swear half the box vanishes in front of your eyes as they compliment you on your baking abilities. You mentally thank your mom for the perfected family recipe that you practically have memorized. They make friendly conversation, besides Quinn who has remained rather quiet, except for offering a few side comments or sounds of agreement. Eventually Elias asks you more about how your first game hockey game went.

Elias is observant and incredibly well spoken, and he’s making what could have been an awkward situation a very pleasant one. He guides most of the conversation as Brock becomes more comfortable with the dynamic of you being there with his other friends. It’s cute how close Brock and Elias are. Even just standing in the kitchen you can tell the two of them have a bond that’s different than the ones between the other boys. Brock is sometimes shy and blushy when the two of you talk, but with his friends he’s more bold and sure of himself.

The small talk is getting thin, and you’re about to politely end the conversation and tell them you should go when Jake asks how you and Brock know each other. You don’t know why you hesitate, but you do, and you look at Brock who is standing next to you. Before you can decide how to answer Brock replies simply, “We went to UND together back in the day.”

“I guess we don’t really know each other very well, but we had some mutual friends.” You try to add and clarify.

“Oh cool,” Jake replies, not really giving it much thought. “So are you liking the city so far?” he asks.

“I like it a lot , I just haven’t had a lot of free time outside of work to explore. But, my co-workers finally like me since I know all about hockey now, and the one girl in our office is my best and only friend!” You laugh at yourself a bit, because you know it sounds a little sad that you’re a young twenty-something with zero signs of a social life. It earns some laughs from the guys too.

“You should come out with us next weekend, you gotta experience Vancouver’s night life! Plus, we’re celebrating my dog’s birthday!” Jake exclaims, and you can see Elias rolling his eyes and Brock and Quinn are both laughing while shaking their heads.

You look between the boys, a bit confused, “Your what? Your dog’s birthday?”

Jake laughs too when you seem so confused about it, “It seemed like a good excuse to go out. Gotta keep it loose, ya know?” He seems serious about this and you can’t help but laugh. The guys explain that they don’t get out too often during the season, and some of them don’t even like going out, but sometimes it’s good to just let loose with the boys. Jake is one who particularly enjoys a good night out, and so occasionally when the boys haven’t frequented a bar in a while, he comes up with “reasons to celebrate.” Elias sounds like a dad when he says that they all just go along with it to make Jake happy, and Jake looks like a little kid when he rolls his eyes at them. He’s also quick to make the point that they always end up having a good time.

“You obviously don’t have to come, but I think it’ll be fun, and you should bring your friend. Her name’s Jade, right?” You’ve talked to Brock about Jade a couple times in the past, but you didn’t really think he would have listened that intently or that he would remember your co-workers name. It’s nice knowing that he does.

“Yeah, it’s Jade. I guess I could ask her if she’s free and let you know.” You tell him, still contemplating if you even want to go out to some busy club on a Saturday night.

“So, uh— What are you doing this weekend?” You ask Jade, your co-worker as you walk into her office. She’s the only other girl in your office, and you’ve become good friends over the last few months. Her dark hair and dark features match her bold and strong personality. Jade constantly bugs you to get out more, especially on the weekends, but you usually curb her requests saying that you’re still getting settled into the new city. This excuse was wearing thin since you’ve been here almost four months now, and you knew you would have to give in to her requests soon. Instead, you’ve opted to invite her to go out with Brock and his friends this weekend. Or rather, pray she would go with you because there was no way you were going alone.

“I don’t know, probably nothing because my friend is a loner who doesn’t ever leave her house.” Jade looks over at you with a knowing expression causing you to roll your eyes.

“Your loner friend actually wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out this weekend.” You say mimicking her cadence. “That guy from college who lives in my building is celebrating his friend’s dog’s birthday, so him and some of their friends are all going out.” When you explain why Brock’s friends are going out you realize again just how ridiculous it sounds, and you know it’s not really why they’re going to a bar to get hammered, but you relay the information anyway.

You told Jade about “the guy from college” that you had run into in your apartment building, but you didn’t tell her that the guy was Brock Boeser. You were sure she knew who he was, even if she wasn’t shy with her discontent with sports. She’s just not a sports person, but anyone in Vancouver would immediately recognize the name of one of their biggest players. All you told her was that you had gone to UND together and that you had never really been friends, just that you had mutual friends.

She never asked more about who he was, but she did ask if he was cute. You couldn’t lie, it would be sinful to do so about a man who was as good looking as Brock, so you told her the truth. You also told her how good of a guy he was and that he never hesitates to start a conversation with you. Since then, she has asked for regular updates on your interactions together. Even though you withheld some crucial information, you still told her about how he liked talking about hockey and that he had gotten you some Canucks gear to wear to the game. When you told her about that she insisted that he liked you, and part of you wanted to believe that, but another part of you knew that you and Brock still barely knew each other.

He seems really sweet, but you can’t help but feel like he still has plenty of girls vying for his attention. Girls who are prettier and smarter and nicer than you. When you think back to those brief interactions with him it still gives you a feeling of anxiety. It’s the kind of anxiety that you get when you remember something embarrassing you did as a kid or when you’re trying to fall asleep and you remember that you said “you too” to the barista who said “come again!” Either way, you weren’t convinced that your limited interactions warranted any feelings on either of your parts, so you continued to try to suppress your growing feelings for him.

Luckily, Jade was happy to oblige your request of going out. She asked if your friend had any cute single friends, and while you weren’t quite sure if they were single, you said yes figuring that one of them had to be.

“Y/N, It’s me!” You hear Jade come in through your apartment door that you had left unlocked for her. It’s Saturday night and you’re getting ready to go out with Brock and his teammates. You still haven’t told Jade who he is, and you’re hoping she doesn’t freak out when she finds out.

“I’m in my closet!” You shout back to Jade as she makes her way through your apartment. She finds you sitting inside your walk-in closet, trying to decide what to wear, “I’m having a crisis. I have no idea what I should wear.” You look over at her precisely curated outfit that’s perfect for a night out. She looks hot and it’s just enough to not be overdone. He hair is flawlessly sleek and her make up looks like an artist painted it on.

“Stop moping. You’re just nervous because he’s cute and you like him. Go make us some drinks and I’ll pick out your outfit.” You don’t put up a fight, knowing that she’ll probably be able to piece together a great ensemble that you never would have thought of. Your strengths were probably better suited for making cocktails anyway, so you go to the kitchen and whip up a couple of drinks.

On your way back to your room you turn on your “going out” playlist that hasn’t been touched in ages, and when the first drop of alcohol touches your tongue you automatically feel less anxious. She’s right, you totally have a crush on this guy, and you’re super nervous about going out with him and his friends. What’s worse, is that this was pretty much a pity invite, and him and his friends feel bad that you don’t know anyone else in the city.

Brock’s night was going somewhat similarly to yours. When Elias got to his apartment for the pregame he found Brock standing in only his boxers with a pile of clothes covering his closet floor. Elias couldn’t help but laugh at him. He hasn’t seen Brock act this way about a girl in a long time. Come to think of it, he’s not even sure if he’s ever seen Brock act like this. Brock was sensitive, but he wasn’t anxious like this. He wouldn’t get tied up in things like what to wear or what to say to a girl. He did however, have the issue of falling way too hard way too fast, ending up in situations where girls left him after they got what they wanted. Over the years he’s learned how to guard his heart a bit better, and his friends, Elias especially, were always there to protect him.

Elias likes you. He liked you the minute he met you. He was intuitive and was a good judge of character, which made him and Brock a good pair. Brock has a tendency to trust a little too much, but now Elias is there to help guide him toward the right people. When Brock introduced you to Elias, he could immediately tell that you were a good person. He could see it in your eyes, and in your genuine appreciation that Brock would recognize and say hello to you. Elias liked that you were sprightly enough to make a joke about knowing who he was. Most of all, he liked how Brock talked about you. Elias immediately recognizes when Brock has had a conversation with you before practice or a game. He comes in with a little pep in his step, that causes some of the guys to question if he got laid the night before, but now Elias recognizes that he must have seen you on his way to work. Brock gushes about your interactions and about how cute you are when you explain the hockey things you learn. The day that you told him Elias was your favorite player Brock was so excited to tell him. He wasn’t even mad, he just loved how light hearted willing to joke around you were.

Brock occasionally thinks back on the times he saw you after that first night at UND. He thinks about what would have happened if your boyfriend hadn’t been waiting for you outside of your dorm. It’s not that he thinks he would have gotten lucky or that you would have cheated on your boyfriend with him, it’s just that maybe if you had had a bit more time to get to know each other you could have at least become friends. And maybe that friendship could have grown into something more and you would have broken up with that asshole to be with him. Brock thinks about what could have been, but he also knows that hindsight is 20/20. He doesn’t consider himself a superstitious guy, but he can’t help but think that you came to Vancouver for a reason.

When your wardrobe crisis has been averted, you’re fully dressed in skinny jeans and a cute top that’s revealing enough but doesn’t exactly come right out and say “I want to have your babies right now.” (That’s how Jade described it, anyway.) The two of you have had a round of drinks and you decide that it’s probably an appropriate time to head up to Brock’s. You didn’t want to get there too early and be the only ones there, so you made Jade wait it out in your apartment until it was at least thirty minutes after the time he had said to come.

Brock texted you letting you know the door was unlocked, and when you get out of the elevator you can already hear music playing from behind his door. “I can already feel it. This is going to be fun!” Jade tells you excitedly as you reach out for the doorknob. You laugh thinking about how she has no idea she’s about to be drinking with a bunch of professional hockey players for the night.

When you open the door you see some of the guys you’ve met mulling about, most of them with drinks in their hands. Brock comes up to you almost immediately. Without even thinking he wraps you in a hug, and it feels so natural even though you’ve never had any sort of physical interaction with him. Your suspicions were right, he gives the best hugs, and you wish that you could stand there in his warm arms forever, but it only lasts a second before he’s pulling away and turning his attention to your friend who looks likes she’s surprised to see Brock Boeser hugging her coworker and Elias Pettersson coming up behind him to say hello.

“Okay, you didn’t tell me that “your friend” was Brock fucking Boeser.” She doesn’t even try to whisper it, and it’s kind of what you love about her. She just expresses herself freely, and it’s honestly so funny when she says it. It has Brock’s head falling back as he lets out a laugh.

Brock and Elias introduce you and Jade to the other guys who are in the apartment. There are a couple girlfriends among them and even though they all look like they just walked out of an instagram ad, they all seem genuinely nice and aren’t nearly as intimidating as you thought they would be. You don’t get too much time to mingle before Jake informs the group that the “birthday party” is ready to move to the bars, followed by packing into various Ubers.

When you’re all at the bar, a few other guys show up, some single and definitely ready to mingle, but to your surprise some have even brought their wives. The drinks are flowing and you’re actually having fun. You notice that Jade and Jake have spent a lot of time talking, and he offers to get her a drink before they head off to the bar. You laugh, and shake your head as she turns back to give you wink before heading off with the hockey player.

You turn your attention back to the guys standing around the table, when one of them asks you, “So, how do you two know each other? I feel like somebody said you went to UND?” It’s Brandon Sutter, you didn’t recognize him when Brock first introduced you, seeing as most of the photos you’ve seen of him include a hockey helmet covering most of his face. It’s probably the alcohol— no, it’s definitely the alcohol that has you responding to his question, “Yeah, we went to UND together, but we didn’t really hang out or anything, I think everyone just thought I was massive bitch.” You laugh, but you can see some confusion setting in on Brock’s expression. Brandon laughs too, not thinking much of what you said.

“What do you mean?” Brock asks. He never thought of you that way back in college. He knew that guy you dated was jerk. He dimmed your light, and that wasn’t your fault.

“I don’t know, I just figured you guys all thought I was kind of a bitch because I just hung out with my boyfriend all the time.” You don’t really know what else to say, thinking back to those days where you would follow Owen around like a lost puppy.

“I don’t think anybody thought that, we just thought your boyfriend was dick.” He says, and before you can say anything else he adds, “No offense. He just didn’t seem like he treated you very well. That night he yelled at you in front of the dorm when he found out you went to our party left a pretty bitter taste in my mouth.”

“Sounds like a dick, to me.” Quinn says matter-of-factly. You’re sure it’s the alcohol for him too, he’s been more talkative in the last hour than he has been in the two other times you’ve seen him.

“Yeah, he was.” You answer back.

“So I guess you’re not still dating this guy, are you?” Brandon asks. You can feel sets of eyes all resting on you now, like you’re about to reveal a big secret.

“No no, we broke up right before senior year of college. I dated a little in grad school, but when I found out I was moving to Canada I didn’t really bother with trying to find boyfriend.” You tell them, as they nod in response.

The rest of the night isn’t as serious. Jade and Jake tear up the dance floor, and when she nudges you to signal she’s leaving with him you tell her to wrap before she taps it, earning a laugh and wave goodbye. Brock stays by your side the entire night, neither of you wanting to join the others dancing. His arm stays perched on the back of the booth you’re in, while you listen to JT tell some elaborate story from their recent road trip.

When Brock sees you yawn for the third time in a row he asks if you’re ready to head home. “Yeah, I’m tired. I’ll probably just head home soon.” You think he might offer to go back with you, but you don’t want to assume. Instead of yelling over the loud music he just nods and pulls out his phone. He tells the boys that you’re both heading out and they all say goodbye before Brock nudges you out of the booth.

On the car ride home he asks you what you thought of the boys, laughing when your first response is that there are just so many of them. “It’s like trying to keep track of puppies. They’re there one second and then they’re off doing something else the next,” You laugh at yourself thinking about how many of them probably have undiagnosed ADHD, or maybe some of them are diagnosed. “But it’s cute, you guys are like a little family.” This earns one of those genuine Brock Boeser smiles. He’s proud of his little family. He loves them all, and he’s glad that you like them because he can tell they like you too.

That night out leads to a few more texts back and forth, and eventually to full on conversations that go one for days at a time. One night he asked what you were doing and you told him you were going to watch the Battle of Alberta game. You had heard a lot about this rivalry since you embarked on your hockey education, and you figured you should see what all the hype was about. To your surprise, Brock asked if he could join you, and the two you spent the night watching hockey from your couch.

You hadn’t watched a game this intense before, and when Matthew Tkachuk drops his gloves to fight Zack Kassian, Brock can tell you’re on edge. You knew there were fights in hockey, and you had watched a few clips on youtube, but it seemed more real watching it in realtime. You wondered what it would be like to see something like that in person. As the two players are ushered off the ice, you can’t help but wonder if Brock would ever find himself in a situation like that, and when you ask him if he ever fights during games he chuckles a bit before he answers, “No, I’m not really the fighting type. I think it’s better for everyone if I leave that up to guys like Zack and Jordie.”

You’re not totally convinced by this, and you don’t like that the thought of Brock in a fight makes you feel so sick. He can sense your hesitation and he wants to try to ease your mind, “When fights like that break out, it’s usually because both players have agreed to it. You can see that they’re talking right before, they’re asking each other if they want to do it.” He narrates as the fight replays on your TV. “Occasionally someone will still throw a punch even if the other guy says no, but that’s not common. It’s kind of an unspoken rule that you have to stand up for your team, so most guys who are asked will fight, but I’m not usually the guy in that position. I haven’t fought once in the NHL, and I plan to keep it that way. I’d get rag-dolled by both of those guys.” He says pointing back to where the players now sit in their respective boxes.

It’s nice to know that Brock hasn’t fought anyone before, but you still worry about him getting hurt. What if he was the one who got caught by a bad hit? You can’t keep thinking about things you can’t control, so you try your best to shift your attention back to the game.

You and Brock find yourselves in each others apartments more often after that. The two of you will make dinner and watch a game, or just watch TV for the night. Occasionally you walk down to the coffee shop on the corner together or walk over to the park with Coolie and Milo. You’ve started to become friends, and you feel like Brock is letting you get to know him more and more everyday. The conversation is easier, and the flirting is probably more noticeable than either of you thinks it is. Your positions on the couch have drifted from opposite sides of the couch to having your thighs touching while his arm sits, resting behind you across the back of the couch. He always greets you with a big hug, and lately you’ve noticed his arms lingering around your body a little bit longer than the time before

He hasn’t made a move yet, and you haven’t either. You think that maybe he just isn’t interested in getting closer, and you’re admittedly too self-conscious to try to make a move yourself. Tonight os just like any other night that the two of you spend together but you don’t notice that Brock is pretty far gone in his thoughts. That may be because you’re lost in your own as well. A few minutes later his voice brings you back to reality, “Are you okay?” You look up from where you’ve been staring down at the wine glass in your hand. You’re sitting at his kitchen counter, and he’s standing on the other side of the island looking back at you. You tell him you’re fine but you can see that he doesn’t buy it for a second.

“You know you’re like a really good guy, right?” You ask him, after taking another sip of wine.

He smiles back at you with a bit questioning in his eye, “I mean I’d like to think that I’m not too bad.” He says back.

“No, Brock. You’re like really good. You help old ladies at the grocery store, and you talk about your nephew like he’s your own kid, and you’re nice to me when you really don’t have to be.” You try to tell him just how genuinely good he is. You wish you could explain it more eloquently and you wish you could show him how good of heart he has.

“That just sounds like normal people stuff,” he replies with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

He would say something like that, and think that normal people were just as nice as he is, and maybe they were, but the people that you’ve met throughout your life have somewhat tainted that idea for you.

“I think maybe you don’t realize how good you are.” He says back, looking you directly in the eyes. “You’re a good person, and just because I knew you back when you dated some jerk in college, doesn’t mean that it has any impact on how I feel about you now.” He’s so serious in this moment, and not at all like the usual lighthearted guy you’re used to. Somehow he knew just where your insecurities laid. He’s so genuine and honest sometimes that it hurts and the butterflies you feel in your stomach are getting harder and harder to ignore.

The two of you don’t talk much for the rest of the night, and instead settle in a comfortable silence while Brock catches up on the episodes of Gossip Girl that Elias watched without him. Brock isn’t paying attention to what is happening on his TV. His mind is way too busy thinking of what he’s going to do next. The guys have all been pestering him to get a move on, saying that he’ll miss his window of opportunity with you, and he knows that they’re right. If he’s lucky he hasn’t missed his opportunity yet, but if not, he might just be screwed.

He doesn’t even notice when his eyes shift away from the screen and move to rest on you. He’s taking his time, studying every feature, taking in every soft curve of your face. He loves the subtle crinkles on the sides of your eyes that deepen when you smile, and it’s even better when it happens because of something he said or did. If he could, he would make sure that smile stayed on your face for every second of the day. Your hair flows naturally without being fixed and he knows that you often let strands fall in front of your eyes when you’re too concentrated on your work or like now, when you’re invested in the show that you’re watching.

Without a thought, and on instinct alone, Brock slowly moves his hand up toward your face and softly tucks the strand of hair behind your ear. You’re a bit caught off guard at first, but you remain still as you feel his fingers linger on the side of your neck. Eventually you let your eyes meet his and you realize just how close you are to him. The two of you stay like that for a minute, staring at each other, taking each other in. It’s too easy to get lost in Brock’s ocean-like eyes, and you swear you hear the enchanting sound of waves crashing on a beach.

You’ve been staring at each other for what feels like too long, and you’re about to pull away when you feel Brock’s hand on the side of your face again. He’s slowly inching toward you and his eyes are still glued to yours. He’s searching for any source of panic or concern in your eyes, but he doesn’t find any. Your heart has taken over at this point and you can’t keep yourself away any longer, before you lean in and your lips finally meet his.

Kissing Brock feels like everything good in the world. It’s feels like the first time you road a bike or the first time you tasted ice cream. It’s new and invigorating and yet you feel totally safe and secure. Before you know it, you’re deepening the kiss and Brock lets you lead him to where you’re comfortable. It just so happens that you find comfort when you reposition yourself so that your legs are straddling his and his hands are resting on your hips. It’s only when your hips shift on top of him and he can’t help but let out a deep moan that also he makes himself pull away from you. It’s then when you start to panic, and think that maybe this was a mistake, maybe he’s realizing that now.

“I don’t want you to think that I just want this.” He says as he motions to the small space separating your bodies. “I don’t want this to just be a one-time thing…” he mutters out, like he’s a bit embarrassed, and nervous that you won’t want the same thing.

“Brock, the only reason I wouldn’t want this is if you didn’t want it. But if you do, then I do too.” You say steadily. Brock smiles and it’s one of those big toothy smiles he only shares when he’s truly happy. You can’t say anything because you’re just as elated, so instead you lean down to kiss him again.

It’s only been a short six months since that night on Brock’s couch, but now you get to call his bed your own, and when you come home to your shared apartment you’re greeted by your beautiful blond boyfriend and your two dogs. Brock insists that you’re their adoptive mom now, and to make it official he bought the two of you matching hats that say “Dog Mom AF” and “Dog Dad AF.” You both wear them when you walk your fury kids together and even though you tell him you think they’re cheesy he knows that you love them.

Brock is somehow everything you need him to be. He’s strong when you’re not and he makes you laugh when you’re sad, but most of all he’s your steady companion. It’s crazy now, thinking back to when you met him. You were just a kid, barely out of high school, and you really hadn’t had the chance to think about what you actually wanted for your life.

Then you graduated, went to graduate school, and started to find out who you were without a boy to dictate the ins and outs of your life. When you were given the opportunity to move to Vancouver you saw it as a new beginning, but you didn’t realize that it was going to be a gift to more than one part of your life. Your work life and your career goals were finally falling into place and that just left one more thing—your love life. You had stopped worrying so much about finding a boyfriend along the way as you focused on yourself, but when Brock Boeser reentered your life you couldn’t ignore it.

Brock’s reemergence was a surprise to say the least, but now you both see that it was a gift of a second chance. When you first met, neither of you were ready for the kind of commitment you now share with each other, and you know now more than ever that those years with Owen and the years you spent alone were all worth it, because when history repeats itself you have the power to change the narrative.

#brock boeser #vancouver canucks #brock boeser imagine #brock boeser fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl fic #nhl #canucks

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years

Text

date night, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: A first date is always nerve-wracking. It can made you anxious and shaky - but alas for Jungkook, he’s anxious and shaky for a slightly different reason. After all, his date is his dom.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; non-idol!AU; dom/sub themes; (slightly) public vibrator use; feels; a ball gag is involved; smut (overstimulation, striptease, m-masturbation, mild restraint, cowgirl); noona dom!reader x sub!Jungkook

Technically a continuation of customer service and ii, but can be read alone.

“Sorry, I’m late, Jungkook. Work ran a little longer than I would like.”

He turned around in his chair, looking startled. “Oh, no, it’s fi–”

He froze in mid-sentence. You walked around him, slowly removing your long black coat. One shoulder first, and then the other. It lingered on your arms for just a second before you slid it off, placing it with one fell swoop in the back the dining chair. Red silk blouse with a small black bow at the neck, tight black pencil skirt. Sheer black tights, slim black heels. You sat down, slowly lifting your lashes to view your date.

Jeon Jungkook.

He stared at you; mouth slightly open.

“Something wrong?”

Jungkook looked down at his black t-shirt and black jeans. At least he was wearing a gray pinstriped statin dress shirt as a jacket. You appreciated the low neckline of the shirt.

“N-no,” he gulped, sitting down slowly. He almost missed the chair. You raised an eyebrow at him. “I just… I’ve never seen you wear something like that.”

You tilted her head. “You did ask me on a date.”

Jungkook’s ears flushed red. He placed his hands over them, trying to hide. He was in public, after all. It was a nice restaurant, in the more upscale part of town. People were dressed a lot less fancy than you were, but then again, that’s how you operated.

Plus, making Jungkook embarrassed was now one of your life goals.

You picked up the menu, crossing one of your legs over the other. The round table was small and your movement raised the end of the tablecloth, your heel gently scraping against Jungkook’s pant leg. He started, brown doe eyes shaking. You calmly opened the menu, retreating your foot as you did so. Jungkook scrambled with his, first holding it upside down, before righting it.

“Are you nervous?” you inquired casually.

“U-um…” Jungkook stuttered, gulping. “A little.”

“Did you put it on?” you asked, not looking up from the menu. It was American steakhouse cuisine, hotel-style. The pan-roasted salmon caught your eye.

“… Y-yes.” Jungkook’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m s-sorry I had to ask how to put it on.”

You lifted your eyes from the text, looking straight into his brown orbs.

“Do not apologize. Asking questions is good. I was happy to answer you.”

You said it very seriously, no playfulness. He chewed on his lip and nodded tightly. Your gaze softened and you placed your menu down for a moment.

“Jungkook.” You spoke quietly, your hand covering his. “It’s me.” You smiled at him. You traced his knuckles, running your fingertips over them. “You can tell me anything, remember? Any question, any frustration, any thought you want to share with me, I will listen.”

His lips parted; eyes locked with yours. You withdrew your hand with a gentle smile. He lowered his head, swallowing thickly. You took that as your cue to look back at your menu.

“… Thank you.”

Your eyes floated back up as Jungkook held the menu over his face, not wanting to show you his tears. Or maybe not you specifically, but the people around you. You wanted to reach over and pat his head, but you let him discreetly wipe his eyes behind the menu before resurfacing, cheeks flushed. A lone, fallen tear clung to his sharp jaw. You reached forward delicately and flicked it away. He turned his head to look at you, eyes wide.

“My pretty boy.”

The mole under his lower lip quivered. He mouthed the words back to you – my? – and you smirked a little.

A waiter came and asked what you would like to drink. Jungkook ordered a red wine and you simply asked for water. He frowned at you, tilting his head.

“You can order something more. I’ll pay.”

You chuckled. “We’ll split it. Besides, I need a clear head.” You rested your elbow on the table and balanced your chin on the back of your hand, cocking a single eyebrow. “For you.”

You didn’t need to touch Jungkook’s pulse to know it skyrocketed.

“Aren’t you… going to turn it on?”

Your free hand slipped between the folds of your coat behind you. The small, sleek black remote was tucked in your inner pocket. You pulled it out, playing with it on your fingers. Jungkook’s eyes widened, watching your every move. You stopped, holding it between your index finger and middle finger. Eyes on Jungkook’s brown orbs, teasing smile on your lips. Then you lowered your hand under the table.

“What if I don’t turn it on at all?” you wondered out loud.

Jungkook squirmed in his seat. “N-noona…”

“Hmm?”

He pouted at you, putting on his best puppy eyes. “Don’t be mean.”

The waiter showed up again with your drinks. He asked you what you wanted to order, staring at your face for far too long. It was the kind of stare you knew, the fascination of your authoritative presence paired with your sharp winged eyeliner and stained red lips. That and your clearly professional style of dress. You were already in command mode from teasing Jungkook. One look at Jungkook’s stiffened stance and you knew it was bothering him. You spoke slowly and deliberately, forcing the waiter to hang on to your every word.

“Of course,” the waiter concluded, scribbling your order down. “And for you, sir?”

Jungkook’s jaw was so tense that he had to unhinge it for a second to respond. “Ah, the ribeye s-steak–”

You pressed a button under the table, expression unchanging.

Jungkook’s body immediately tensed up, eyes wildly flickering to you. You took a long, slow sip of your water, face blank.

“And how would you like it done?”

“Medium rare,” Jungkook gritted out, fingers holding the menu so tightly that they were turning white.

“Sides?” the waiter said pleasantly.

“Asparagus and roasted p-potatoes.” He kept staring at you, the panic evident in his eyes.

“An excellent choice. I’ll take your menus.”

Jungkook hesitated for just a second before handing it over, instantly clenching his hands into fists when the waiter turned his attention to you.

“I’ll put in the order right away.”

“Thank you,” you replied cheerfully.

He turned his back and Jungkook shut his eyes, sucking in a tight breath. You played with the remote under the table, not quite paying attention to him. You pressed another button and Jungkook gasped, hands spreading flat against the table.

“N-noona… it’s too g-good…”

You raised your eyebrows in mock surprise. “Ah, my hand must have slipped.” You flicked through the settings absentmindedly, Jungkook jerking slightly next to you. You got it back to the original setting, a steady, low vibration. “Sorry about that.”

Jungkook took one look at you and you didn’t even try to hide your slyness.

“I f-feel it everywhere,” he whispered, voice trembling.

“That’s what a cock and balls vibrator does, Jungkook,” you replied, each word turning Jungkook redder and redder.

“Don’t say that too loud,” he pleaded, eyes darting from side to side. The music and chatting were far too loud for anyone to hear your words. But that didn’t matter, because you could tell from Jungkook’s shallow pants and blown-out pupils that he was far too turned on by the idea to tell you to stop.

“Safe word?”

“Euphoria,” he said automatically, brown orbs back on you.

You turned off the vibrator. His hand shot out, grabbing yours under the table.

“N-no.” Jungkook’s breathing hitched. “You… don’t have to stop.” His fingers touched the remote’s buttons, running over them. He pulled his chair forward, pressing his hips into the seat. His eyes on yours, begging for more. You smiled sweetly and leaned over, lips on his ear. He stiffened, hand tightening around yours. You breathed hotly against his skin, hearing his soft gasp as you did so.

“Naughty boy,” you purred, running your tongue across his earlobe, lightly flicking his earrings. “Does it feel good knowing I control your pleasure? Does it feel good knowing you please noona?”

His fingertips dug into your skirt, the faintest whimper against your ear.

“Wanna please you so bad, noona.” Jungkook’s voice was nearly a desperate whine. “Don’t care who sees. I just want to be good for you.”

You placed a chaste kiss on his ear and retreated, pulling your hand out of his grasp. He slowly opened his eyes, his dark brown orbs smokey with lust. If you asked him to get on his knees right now, you were quite sure he would have done it.

“I’m going to wash my hands,” you announced, standing up.

Jungkook looked up at you, startled. “O-oh.” He sounded disappointed.

“You should too.”

He gazed at his hands with a confused expression before standing up.

“Okay.”

Jungkook stood in front of the restaurant’s bathroom mirror, rolling up his sleeves. The pinstriped satin fabric was being stubborn and refusing to stay up, so he had to fold it all the way to his elbows in order to wash his hands. He turned on the water and looked himself over as he rubbed the soap over his knuckles. Jungkook thought he looked pretty good today, with a little bit of eyeshadow and curled eyelashes. He tried, at least.

But it really was nothing compared to how she looked.

He chewed on his lower lip, feeling his heartbeat accelerate as he thought of her clean eyeliner, her glowing skin, her pretty red-stained lips. The lip color matched her red top, a small detail that Jungkook appreciated. And she carried herself so well, head high, unafraid of the world.

He wanted to be like that, just like his noona.

“Nice tattoos, man.”

Jungkook jolted out of his thoughts. The man on his left was complimenting him. But before he could say anything at all, the vibrator on his crotch came to life. His eyes widened, trying to hide his surprise in the mirror. Oh god.

“O-oh!” He turned off the water with his wrist. What was she thinking? He was right next to someone! Literally less than a foot away from them! And there were other people in the bathroom too–

The vibrations increased a notch.

“Thanks.” Jungkook jerked slightly, heading for a stall immediately. The man blinked, confused as to why he would go right after washing his hands. But Jungkook couldn’t give less of a shit as he threw himself inside the stall, silently gasping as the setting changed again to a slow but rough vibration that radiated all the way up to his chest. He moaned under his breath, leaning against the door, thrusting his hips into the air. Fuck. It felt so good. Even knowing that other people were around him, only a thin wall away, made it feel even better.

Jungkook knew it was wrong, he knew it was bad, but it felt, so, so very good.

He had to touch. No one was looking, right? No one could see him, right? He looked around him even though the only things around was the beige walls of the stall and the toilet. He unbuttoned his jeans. It felt like he could hear it, but perhaps that was only because it was against his body. The setting changed again – to a faster, harder, triple beat – and Jungkook nearly collided with the wall beside him, legs shaking. Unrelenting, continuous pleasure rocketed through him. He mouthed her name into the air, eyes half-lidded and hazy. If only she could see him now. If only she was right there, watching him, eyes on him and only him, watching him suffer by her hand…

He nearly whimpered out loud at the thought.

He tried to pull the zipper down, but it must have hit the vibrator unexpectedly because he instantly heard a sharp whirring sound. Jungkook immediately zipped it back up, terrified. He pressed his ear against the door, trying to tell if anyone heard. It was hard to know. He could hear running water from the sinks. Hopefully that masked the noise.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

Hastily, he tried to pull it out, nearly moaning as the action pressed the zipper down onto his crotch, amplifying the vibrations on his inner thighs. He looked at the screen, seeing the text notification.

Having fun?

It was not a mistake. She had turned it on deliberately.

He struggled to stay silent, teeth sinking into his lower lip as he typed a response.

Someone will know.

The three black dots flashed for only a moment.

Not if you’re quiet, pretty boy.

His cheeks burned hot. Oh, how he loved it when she called him pretty. He could almost hear her saying it too, in that seductive, dark tone of hers. It never sounded mean or malicious when she said it. She said it like it turned her on and that was all Jungkook wanted.

Let’s see if you can last one minute.

He furrowed his brows. It already felt like hours, but he had only been in the bathroom for a few minutes.

One minute of

Jungkook accidentally pressed send even though he wasn’t done with the message yet. He meant to type, “One minute of what?” but his hand slipped because, all of a sudden, the strongest vibrations he had ever felt in his entire life attacked his cock and balls, heavy, thudding, rough and so good. He shoved a knuckle in his mouth, biting down hard as it assaulted him, bolts of pleasure going up his thighs and ass, every nerve on fire. It took every fiber of his being to stay silent and not scream. His eyes rolled back his head and he felt pre-cum soaking into his underwear. Oh, shit, he was a fucking mess. He pressed his back fully against the stall wall, breathing hard around his knuckle as the back of his free hand, still holding his phone, pressed down on the vibrator, increasing the sensation across his thighs, spreading it to the deepest points of his body.

His entire crotch throbbed at the assault. He couldn’t take it off. He couldn’t stop it. He was helpless, trembling, barely able to stand, forced to feel the constant, almost overpowering, arousal until she decided it was time to stop, until she released him from her grasp.

And that was exactly what Jungkook wanted.

You sat at the table, your phone in your hands, a small smirk on your lips. Your eyes watched the seconds on your timer app tick down, down. Perhaps a minute was too long. Well, actually, you were simply impatient to see Jungkook again. It frustrated you that you couldn’t see his reaction, but you knew it would have a good result. Trust the process.

You put your phone down and pressed the off button. Then you calmly tucked the remote in your coat.

“Here you are, miss.”

The food arrived. You moved out of the way, letting the waiter put down the savory dishes. The waiter was trying to catch your eye. You tucked your tongue in your cheek and raised your eyebrows slightly. It was very likely that he wasn’t going to hit on you. It took someone real fucking brave to hit on you and this guy wasn’t it.

Real brave and on his knees, begging you with his arms tied behind his back.

“Thank you,” you said simply as Jungkook finally appeared. His dark, curled hair was around his eyes, slightly sticking to his forehead. He looked haggard, as if he had just run a mile. He glared at the waiter, but he was already leaving.

“I don’t like him.”

“He’s not going to do anything.”

Jungkook puffed his cheeks. “How do you know?”

You picked up your knife. “He doesn’t have the balls to do anything.”

Your eyes locked with Jungkook’s. Dark brown pools of lust, shimmering with jealousy. Your lips upturned into a slow smile.

“How is noona’s little pet? Satisfied?”

Oh, he looked so delicious and innocent when his eyes went wide and his ears turned red like that.

“A-ah…”

“Shh…”

You wiped him down gently with a warm, damp cloth, kneeling in front of him. His black jeans and underwear were on the floor. They definitely needed to be washed. The vibrator was beside you, slick with pre-cum and sweat.

“I-I can do it, noona,” Jungkook whined, head tipping back. He was sitting on his bed, legs spread for you as you wiped him clean. His cock and balls were red and sensitive.

“Let noona take care of you,” you murmured. “Aftercare is important to me.”

Ah, his neck looked so delectable exposed like that. But, no, you had things to do You stood up, taking the vibrator with you. He was only in his black t-shirt, legs spread, eyes closed and head tilted back, resting on his elbows. Looking like a full twelve-course meal. You turned away from the sight, heading for the master bathroom. You turned the water on, cleaning the soft silicone with Jungkook’s gentle soap. You let it soak for a moment. Your black briefcase was open on the counter and you folded the microfiber towel you used, placing it in a plastic bag before sealing it.

You were always a stickler for details. Being prepared was always better than making do.

You lifted your head as you heard Jungkook approach the doorframe. He still hadn’t bothered to put pants on. This guy. It didn’t surprise you.

“Can I help?” he asked quietly.

You shook your head gently as you drained the water to double rinse the toy. “You should rest. You had a tiring dinner,” you added, a hint of teasing in your voice.

He pouted and came up to you anyway, watching you clean. “You’re so careful.”

You chuckled. “I like to keep clean, that’s all.”

You turned off the water and shook off the excess. You grabbed another spare microfiber towel from your briefcase, drying it off.

“You’re always prepared too.”

You shrugged. “When there’s an important task at hand, you bring your tools.”

You stopped moving. Your eyes lifted, looking straight into the mirror. Jungkook’s fingers were playing with the black bow of your blouse. He was so close to you that you could feel his heat, his breath on your hair.

“You always take such good care of me.”

He looked at you underneath his lashes. You knew what he was doing.

“There’s always a bitter to my sweet,” you replied, edge of warning to your tone.

He pulled gently at one end of the bow, teasing it apart.

“Even if you’re poisoned,” Jungkook whispered against your scalp, the sides of his lips curving upwards. “I’ll drink you anyway.”

You wrapped the vibrator in the towel, placing it on your briefcase. Your hand came up and you wrapped each finger slowly around his, stopping him as the bow fell into two black ribbons. You exhaled, long and deep, trying to calm your racing heart. Jungkook’s expression changed. He looked a little lost.

“Why don’t you want to show me your body?” he whispered, voice trembling.

You let out a small puff.

“Are you scared I won’t like it?” His brows furrowed with worry. “Because I will. You’re the prettiest woman in the whole world.”

You smiled into the mirror. “There are a lot of pretty women in this world.”

Jungkook shook his head furiously, his long hair flying everywhere. “No one like you.”

You chuckled. “You haven’t seen it.”

“I know already,” he insisted. He moved behind you, hands hovering over your figure. “I want these legs. These hips. This ass.” He bit his tongue; afraid he had gone too far. When you didn’t berate him, he continued. “This waist. This chest.” His tone changed, becoming tenderer, gentler. “I want these arms around me. These hands to hold me, to touch me.” His fingers brushed your cheek. “These eyes to watch me. These lips to say my name, to smile for me.” Jungkook let his fingers trail down. He placed his palm under your chin, making eye contact.

“Look how pretty you are.”

You smiled at your words repeated back to you. Your hesitation remained. Your chin brushed against his hand as you spoke.

“There are a lot of doms out there, Jungkook. Different ones, maybe better ones,” you said calmly. “I’m just the introduction. The one who opened the door.”

You didn’t want to get attached. You didn’t want to get your hopes up that someone was actually interested in you and not your ability to turn them into a crying, pleasure-filled mess. You had been in a lot of relationships. Long ones, short ones. Meaningful ones that taught you life lessons. But they all ended the same.

The you they wanted was the version they wanted to see. You couldn’t blame them. That’s how you presented yourself, after all. That’s the version they were given, not the insecure you, the unconfident you, the weak you. If only for a second you could control yourself and not start a relationship by straight up fucking them.

Ah, the foolish you.

“Noona.”

Jungkook leaned his chin against your shoulder, staring at you through the mirror. You slowly looked up at him, not realizing your eyes had drifted away.

“For you, I would do anything.” Jungkook didn’t look away from your moment of weakness. “I would bleed. I would sweat. I would cry. Anything. Not because you’re a dom.” Thump. How was it possible for someone to have such soft brown eyes? “You’re you. You’re the one I want to walk through the open door with. You’re the one I feel comfortable with. You’re the one who let me be who I am.”

You chuckled, lowering your head, but Jungkook lifted your chin back up, smiling at you.

“I’m really not that cool, Jungkook.”

He leaned his head against yours. “But you are. Look at these clothes.” His wiggled his eyebrows at you, making you laugh. “Look at that smile.” He nuzzled your hair, breathing in your scent. Your hands were braced on the counter and he placed one of his over yours, thumb caressing your fingers. “I don’t want to run from you. I don’t want to escape you. I want to be tied up by you. I want to serve your every whim.” He began to play with the black ribbons of your red blouse again, gasping into your hair. You let him. It was too late now.

“I want to be your pretty boy, noona.”

Fuck.

You sighed slightly in disbelief. What was this, the third time you were falling for him? You must be crazy, letting him drag you into his desires, giving him what he wanted every single time. What were you going to do, say no?

Fuck no, you weren’t.

You grabbed his hand once again, squeezing hard. Jungkook started, seeing your cold gaze in the bathroom mirror.

“Get on the bed. Naked.”

There were two things you always kept with you.

Your smartphone and a ball gag.

Why? Old habits die hard. Besides, a lot of people could use a damn ball gag and do you a favor by shutting the fuck up. You had zero tolerance for the intolerant and ignorant.

You placed it in Jungkook’s mouth, shushing him softly as he whimpered, doe eyes wide as you affixed it on, nice and tight. You were straddling his chest, still fully clothed, the black ribbons of your bow brushing against his tan, toned pecs.

“That’s a good boy,” you purred, placing a kiss on the gag. He mumbled your name, muffled by the rubber ball in his teeth. You lifted a hand to your ear playfully. “Ah, what’s that? You’ll keep your hands on the bed like an obedient boy and not touch me?” He was shaking his head but you ignored him, straightening. “That’s a good idea.”

He was attempting to pout around the gag and it was adorable.

“Now, now, if you listen well, noona will reward you.”

You scooted back a little, your pencil skirt riding up. His eyes went wide, seeing the garters holding your sheer thigh-highs up. Your hand slid down his chest, feather-light. He was non-verbally pleading for more but you retreated your hand, quirking an eyebrow. You lifted one of your legs and pressed your knee between his thighs, forcing them apart. His eyelids fluttered, a muffled moan as the silky pantyhose rubbed lightly against his cock and balls, already sensitive from the events prior.

“Look at me,” you commanded.

He did, clenching fistfuls of sheets, breathing hard. The inky black tattoos of his right arm were a stark contrast to the white sheets. His arms were flexed taut with anticipation. You played with the buttons of the red silk, slowly undoing them one by one, almost lazily. The smooth fabric slid off one shoulder, revealing one of the molded cups of your satin, longline bra with delicate black lace. You gently pushed off the second shoulder with two fingers, leaving it half-hanging on your arms, still tucked into your skirt.

Jungkook’s eyes were so big you were half-afraid they were going to fall out of his head.

You teased the ends out, tossing it aside. It slipped to the floor with a soft flump. You took the art of the striptease seriously. Thumb and index finger on the side zipper of your skirt, using the other hand to hold it taut so the zipper fell apart perfectly. It slid down your legs, landing onto Jungkook’s thighs. One leg out and then the other. You reached down and gently pulled it back with one hand. The stiff fabric fluttered across his semi-hard cock. He hissed, pressing his head against the pillows.

“Very good so far.”

His eyes lit up at the compliment. You slid off his body, and he lifted himself to his elbows, confused. You turned around, looking back at him with your peripheral vision. One handed, pinching the hooks of your bra. You heard him swallow loudly. You held the cups, letting the straps fall down your shoulders naturally. You hooked one finger on one of the straps, pulling your bra away from your body, dropping it onto the floor. Then you slipped your thumbs on each side of your panties, pushing down, down, not bending your legs, your ass in the air.

Jungkook’s moan was stifled by the ball gag.

You turned around slowly, one hand under your breasts, fingers curled and taut. You grazed your nails across your breasts, gasping softly as they scraped your hard nipples.

His cock was insanely hard, sticking straight up as his eyes roamed over your body.

“Go ahead,” you purred, standing at the end of his bed. “Touch yourself.”

Jungkook whimpered, his hands drifting up his thigh. You pressed your index finger against one of your nipples, pushing it in a slow circle. He groaned as he wrapped his hand around his cock, eyes glued to your breasts.

“Not what you wanted to hear, naughty boy?” He shook his head, whining as he slowly stroked himself, his other hand cupping his balls and rubbing them softly. They must still be sensitive and throbbing from the vibrator and he was heightening the dull ache by touching them more.

Fuck, he really was perfection.

You placed your hands under your breasts and kneaded them, your nipples bouncing in the air. You could tell he wanted to rip off his ball gag and beg for more. You watched him touch himself, curious about how he would feel inside you. It made you wet just thinking about it, your juices sliding down your thighs. Your fingers drifted down your stomach, smirking as Jungkook’s eyes followed them.

“You wanna be in here, handsome boy?” you breathed, tongue licking your teeth. You parted your legs lightly, spreading your pussy lips with two fingers. It made a wet, squishing noise as you forced it open.

You saw Jungkook grip his cock hard, stopping his own orgasm. His whole body shuddered, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. His jaw was clenched tight, pupils dilated.

You removed your hands from your body. Walked around the bed, followed by Jungkook’s eyes. Stopping right next to him, you forcefully turned his head to face the other way, unfastening the ball gag. It fell from his mouth, bouncing on the bed. Your fingers danced across his neck, tracing his chiseled jaw. It was wet with saliva and you smeared it against his lips. He gasped and you slid two fingers into his mouth, pressing his tongue down.

You climbed onto the bed, condom in your free hand.

“Ready for your prize, pretty boy?”

Jungkook moaned, the sound vibrating though your hand.

“Y-yes, noona.”

You pulled your hand back, strings of saliva snapping against his lips. You pushed him back against the bed, his dark hair shading his eyes. You took a moment to tuck some behind one ear.

“So handsome.”

You unwrapped the condom and slid it onto his cock. The lubrication seemed to help him – he groaned, back arching, eyelashes fluttering. You positioned yourself above him.

“Jungkook.”

“H-huh?”

You smirked and sank down.

It hit him hard – the oversensitivity, the teasing, the edging he did himself – and he nearly screamed, your hot, wet vice wrapping around him, taking him in slowly. His neighbors were probably not pleased with this, but you didn’t care. He tried to grab your hips but you slapped his hands away, grabbing his wrists and pinning them down next to his head.

“N-noona, ahh–”

You shoved the rest of him inside you forcefully, clenching your jaw as he entered you. Oh, fuck, he felt so good, so hard, filling you just how you liked. Your name tumbled out of his lips, but you gave him no time, already snapping your hips into his, grinding into him, squeezing him. He groaned, unable to fight you as you rode him roughly, the loud, wet slaps of your bodies filling up his bedroom.

“It’s too g-good,” he whined, his hot breath against your lips. “P-please, noona, I-I can’t last…”

“Are you saying you’re going to cum before me?” you growled, your grip on his wrists tightening.

“I-I’m trying not to,” he begged. “Your pussy is t-too good…”

“You want to be used by me, right?” you panted, fucking him harder, hissing as he hit you in your favorite spot. “You want me to use your cock to make myself cum, to be my own personal fucktoy?”

Jungkook slammed his head into the pillows, turning to bite a chunk of his pillow to scream into. You pressed him into the bed, gripping his wrists firmly, nails digging into him. He swelled inside you, throbbing hard, pressing against your walls. His veins were straining against his tan skin, jaw clenched tight. He looked so helpless even though you knew he wasn’t. He let himself give in to you, but that wasn’t enough. You wanted him to lose his mind. You wanted to ruin him. You wanted him so bad and so much that you couldn’t hold back anymore, the familiar tension inside you pulled so taut that even you couldn’t control it.

“Jungkook, cum with me now.”

You slammed your hips down and gasped, moaning his name as you came, pleasure ricocheting throughout your nerves, your pussy throbbing and clenching as liquid spilled between his thighs, drenching them. Oh, fuck. His cock jerked inside you, hard, and he wailed your name into his pillow. You could feel his orgasm fill the condom, the head twitching against your walls, your body shivering at the sensation.

You let his hands go, falling to your elbows. Your forehead leaned against his as you reached down gingerly to hold the condom down as you slowly, slowly removed yourself from his softening cock. You were a bit worried you had gone too far, but one look at Jungkook told you otherwise. He knew his safe word. He smirked at you, playfully kissing your lips.

“You’re crazy,” you muttered, falling against the bed. His head popped up and he kissed you again.

“So… am I your personal fucktoy now?”

You shut one eye and placed an arm over your forehead. His dark bangs shaded his eyes, making them sparkle with mischief.

“Is that what you want, pretty boy?”

He nodded eagerly, his hair flapping around. You closed both eyes and chuckled.

“Remember you sealed your own fate, Jeon Jungkook.”

inventory.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jk x reader #jungkook x you #jk smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jeongguk x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 4 years

Text

Only Time Makes It Human

Hi, hello I was so excited to write this story you don't understand! I hope you all like it, I'm open to suggestions for part two or even part three hehe, I just like this concept a lot, lol i even made a Spotify playlist to listen to while writing. And I dont do that very often.

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Summary: he shouldn't have let Hange drag him to that frat party with Petra as his date, not when she knew you'd be there with someone else.

Tags: college au!, Angst, eventual fluff, slightly nsfw

Warnings: mentions of smoking, cheating, drinking and of you squint hard enough there's some nsfw, literally it's a frat party, you know how college students are

Disclaimer: drink responsibility if you are of drinking age, don't smoke, absolutely don't drive while being drunk, also I don't own the characters, but you already know that.

The deafening sound of pop music abused Levi's ears to the point his head was pulsing. His drink, a ratty cheep lager that was disturbingly common in such parties, stood in a red plastic cup in his hand, not even halfway drank. It was the watery taste he despised; when he wasn't much of an alcohol drinker, he was adamant about bitter tastes in beverages, a preference he hadn't managed to fight in his whole life time.

He shot an ominous glance at Hange and Petra. Stood right in front him, swaying their hips and smiling at each other as they shipped from their makeshift cocktails, they were more than surprised whatever they had dumped on their cups was consumable.

Petra in particular, beamed everytime she looked his way, auburn locks of her grazing the sides of her kind face as she swayed closer to him. The way his eyes never landed on her until it was necessary guilted him more than he wanted to admit. Mainly because Hange had set them up, and also because he shouldn't have been frying his brain with thoughts of someone else when he was with her.

But sometimes he couldn't help himself.

In an attempt to shut his brain down from making generously misery thoughts, he locked his hand around Petra's waist, sipping ever so slightly off his beer in the meantime. He didn't miss the way she lowered her head to smile, the sheer maroon tint on her cheeks. She fidgeted her fingers around her drink, shooting happy stares to Hange, Erwin and Mike as she went to rest get head on Levis shoulder.

Hange softly smiled back, curling her lips on an upward curve then brushing of three long to stare at the couple with ogling eyes. She focused on the conversation Mike and Erwin were having, as if it was something important enough to get lost into.

"I'm just wondering where Nanaba is, she said I'd find her here." Mike spoke with a puzzled voice, bobbing his head around to scout for the familiar blotch of short blonde hair that acostumed the face of his long term lover.

"Ah, she's with (y/n), silly. They're probably somewhere around if you want to say hi." Hange beamed.

Levi's eyes went wide and his hands numb at the sound of your name; he couldn't believe the plastic cup hadn't slipped off his palm. It had been so long since Hange had mentioned you so casually in a shared conversation, at least before him that is. It was more than natural to assume his friends hadn't cut ties with you, in contrast to his previous belief.

It was unlikely they were working against him on this situation, but his mind couldn't stop from running in possible imageries between them and you. Were they going to that cafe near campus with you when he denied their invitation? Did they spent some nights at your new place, drinking and driving you on watching horror parodies, when you despised it?

He shook his head trying to brush bubbling thoughts of you away from his mind. With a quick look at Petra, he decided to gulp down the warmed up lager, in hopes of finding relief in a stronger refill.

He despised the way beer didn't spritz on his tongue in it's warm state, but he refused to cringe at the aftertaste. Meanwhile, on his left, Petra enthusiastically bobbed her weight between her legs at the sound of another well known song. He didn't bother to comply to her moves, his eyes averted bitterly to the emptiness of his cup, yet he couldn't eagerly decide to step out of the comfort of his position.

Strolling around meant that he could come across you and he wasn't sure whether he wanted that or not.

Yet, Hange was adamant about dragging him, through the crowd to the kitchen counter, seeing his need for a refill as an excuse to get a new drink to mix to her cocktail.

Familiar faces fleet the kitchen, strolling around with numerous cups in their hands, heading to all directions. Levi pinched his nose in annoyance; the stench of sweat and smoke numbed his nostrils making him snicker, disgust masking the look on his face.

Setting his goal as to find a closed bottle of whiskey, his hands managed to work fast to their task. Upon discovering a single bottle that was still intact he twist the cap open, skillfully bringing the rim of his cap underneath the bottle's opening. Copper liquid poured in gushes in the red plastic, filling it to its maximum capacity.

The bigger the drink, the more chances he had to get a little drunk, maybe forget about you in the process.

"Are you thinking about her, shorty?"

Hange's voice rang in his blank head for several seconds fighting to elicit an answer out of him. He fought back, merely for a moment. If he knew Hange she would have kept pressuring him to answer her question on front of every one else for the rest of the night. He was trying to fix his mood with at least some alcohol, so he wouldn't let Hange ruin it.

He hesitated to speak loud enough for his voice to reach her eardrums. Admitting to his pain made it real, and he hated still being sentimental when it came to you. At least Hange would keep her mouth shut if she got her rightful answer.

"Well I do, I suppose." He muttered below his breath, gray eyes never averting to her direction.

Hange curious expression immediately transformed into one of pure mischievous excitement that, he had to admit, was pretty unsettling. He knew that look on his friend's face, he couldn't fight it even if he wanted to so naturally he wished he had bit back on his answer. Nevertheless, what was done was done.

"It sucks doesn't it?" Hange spoke, pointer finger stretching to fox her glasses.

"It makes me feel lonely."

"Well don't make your self suffer, shorty." Hange's eyes softened as she threw a playful punch on his bicept, her drink long forgotten on the counter. "You could try to be friends with her."

"It's not that I want to suffer, it keeps me going sometimes. And no, I don't want to."

With squinted eyes and a disappointed gaze Hange shook her head at him and grabbed her drink from the wooden counter. Her mouth formed in a disapproving smirk causing her cheeks to squint and scrunch in an almost too comical manner. Levi knew he should have paid, absolutely, no mind on stressing over it; whether she was right or wrong she wasn't in a place to judge him for any of his choices, especially on the ones on his romantic life. And even more executionally, on ones she had helped him make by setting him up with Petra.

Not that he had anything against Petra.

He actually enjoyed her company. The cute little remarks she'd make for him, the way she cared for anything he did or the way her eyes would ogle at him as if he was a god. She could keep her space clean and she was kind to everyone in the sweetest manner. On top of that she had a girl next door type of beauty, auburn hair parted messily according to any occasion and round hazel eyes. All in all Hange had been right to point out she looked good on him.

Tonight, Petra was shining in her favorite pastel layers. A soft strawberry lilac turtleneck with flared sleeves as a base, topped with a powder blue strappy dress and finally completed with velvet baby pink Vans. Cute sparkly pins were accessorising her hair and numerous necklaces with moon and star charms shone on her neck. The effort she had put to perfect her aesthetic had indeed paid off; she looked like a fairy under the erratic lights of the party. She had achieved her initial goal to stand out from the occasional soft girls around the crowd, signifying she was Levi's girl.

With Levi's popularity amongst ladies, she had to be effortlessly perfect.

And she was, for as long as she was concerned.

Levi shot his eyes to his friends' direction, catching quickly glimpses of the way Petra danced with Hange. Erwin and Mike were nowhere to be found for now, as he assumed they would be searching for Nanaba.

He cringed at the chaotic arrangement of things; Nanaba had distanced her self from the group because she was your childhood friend so her relationship with Mike naturally came second to not forcing you into the same group as Levi. As if Levi wanted to be forced to be in the same group as you.

Fortunately, you had plenty of friends as to not to stick onto his group.

He was gulping a mouthful of his drink, copper whiskey watering down his dry throat as if he hasn't drunk anything in hours, when his eyes met yours in the crowd. His heart immediately skipped a long beat, chest heavying at the sight of your flushed face.

Maybe, on second thought, you hadn't actually noticed him.

You stood outside of the massive glass window proudly downing the shot in your hand after cheering on it with Eren. There was joy written on your makeup accessoried face; with your eyes squinted and your smile spread to your face asour hips moved according to the music engulfed in Eren's palms. Your hair swayed with each one of your movements, (h/c) locks landed messily on your face and shoulders mirroring Eren's to perfection. Levi couldn't help but notice how Eren's man bun was coming undone on the erratic movements his made.

As you slightly squated, attempting to perk your buttocks in the air for your partner to grab, your baggy jeans tightened their hug on your body in perfection. Levi remembered having seeing you in those baggy cargo jeans from afar on a few occasions, always thinking how good they looked on you, always admiring how you could always lull off your desired aesthetic effortlessly.

It was true that had he not seen you flawnting your effortless dark urban style, he would have thought that Petra had been the only girl who could show anyone how dressing aesthetically could be achieved. But you were something different. They way your breasts sat firmly at the bustier bits of your spaghetti strapped top, adorned by the corset like nature of the torso tube looked magnificent paired to your jeans. Your jet black Dr Marten's boots peaked from the flared finish of your jeans, giving the look a 90s grungy edge along with your all natural -be it for your dark maroon lip color.

Looking around, amongst numerous art majors like you he couldn't find someone who could mimick the way you pulled it off.

There fore, on a way he didn't blame Eren's hands as they traveled down your curves and touched tenderly at your torso. Even if the motion pulled any string in his heart that wasn't numbed by his alcoholic beverage.

He loathed you looked so good, and he loathed the way you danced to the loud tune as if no one was around.

With another big gulp on his whiskey, he felt the world slowing down around him.

As your eyes finally met -this time it wasn't just him imagining things- the tune changed, mocking him for gawking at you while taking your side against him. He noticed you mouth the lyrics to him, your head turned to his direction as his eyes struggled to rip away from your form.

Your moves on Eren became more intimate, more suggestive as you scratched the nape of his neck, bringing your mouth close to his ear to whisper words Levi couldn't have known of. Quickly, Eren pulled away with a pouty smile, displeased that he had to pull away from you. It was in that second that Levi's chest tightened dangerously, as Eren's lips brushed chastely on yours, noses bumping on eachother.

In an attempt to shook the image out of his head he turned on his heels, cup squeezed in hand and stomach growling in anxiety as he marched to his group of friends. Smiling faces welcomed him but he paid no mind in reciprocating the slightest glance. Levi wasn't exactly the type to bounce back immediately after having experienced his heart sinking in such horrid way.

Unsurprisingly for him -seeing that he was used to things only going downhill after a shitty event- Mike appeared out of the blue with Nanaba linked on him through their elbows. It wasn't in fact Nanaba that shattered any remain of his, already ruined, mood, but the person that clung into her palm.

More specifically, you.

"Heyy!!" Hange screamed, hands stretching towards your direction, already pulling you in her embrace once you reached her velocity. "I have missed you so much, where have you been these days!"

"Hange we went out for launch yesterday." You giggled through your squished cheek.

"Noo, that was ages ago I miss you everyday."

You shot a judgemental look at Erwin from Hange's back as she began to pull back from your embrace. The lisps and slips of her tongue were starting to become prominent as she poured words before you in an excessively fast paced manner, leaving you unable to come up with a way to respond to her, let alone understand what she had been saying.

Erwin scratched the back of his head an but his lip in response, shoulders rising up in an unbeknownst manner.

"You shouldn't let her drink that much. You know how she gets." You scolded, looking around the faces of your friends, trying your best not to let your faint voice get overlapped by the loud reggaeton beat.

Once again as Levi's eyes locked gazes with yours your breath hitched inside your chest.

His hand strode out to Petra's waist, pulling her closer almost too automatically for anyone not to notice. The commotion caught your eye, but you never flinched, much to your demise. Petra's hair swayed to the right as her smile widened from the sudden affectionate gesture, making you sick to the stomach from how soft and fragile and enchanting she had managed to look.

"Anyways I just came to say hi, I'll go find Eren now-"

Your words were cut short as your aforementioned significant other showed up bouncing in excitement beside you. Mirroring Levi's actions he pulled you close in a swift movement before ensuring he gave soft smiles to everyone. Hange excitedly greeted him back as Nanaba and Mike caught him up in casual conversation.

Levi watched as the brunette whipped his head whenever he flawnted on his achievements, causing Nanaba to shoot him awkward smiles and Mike to shrug him off in the process. You could see the despair in their faces as Eren egoistically carried on the conversation, but you tried to shrug it off for the moment as you conversed with Erwin.

Your mind wouldn't stop ordering your eyes to attach themselves into the picture perfect couple ahead of you, who paid no mind to your mere existence. In a way you blamed yourself for having caused this. Had you uttered a single hello to them you wouldn't have received such treatment. It served you right for knowingly intruding their space with the intention to make your presence known to Levi.

If you knew if the way Levi's eyes fell onto you everytime you looked away, you wouldn't have had yanked Eren's hand in an attempt to gain his attention.

"Ah sweetheart, I'm sorry, Yeagerbombs with your Yeager boy?" Eren blinked his emerald eyes into yours, pride splattered in his smile for his -cringeworthy to anyone else but himself- pun. You couldn't help but let out a nervous snicker of a laugh as he yanked you close to him again, pleading eyes landing into Levi's stormy gaze.

For you, the world seemed to stop in the moment as you took in his dimly lit face and delicate features. The music fell deaf to your ears as you gawked at him, hands trembling and tongue tied in words that you failed to recognize.

That mellow melancholy in his eyes, the adorning eyebags, the way some short coarse hairs on his face tried to mimick his neatly kept undercut, it all seemed unreal to you.

How long had it been since you had been so close to him? Nowadays it seemed the two of you had moved on to whatever. You had tried so much to avoid eachother that your timing never allowed the two of you to meet, not even for a the slightest, in hopes of forgetting about each others existence.

What downed you, though, from your precious pink cherry blossom rainfall bubble was that Petra was wrapped lovingly around him, her aesthetically pleasing image fitting conveniently with your little fairytale background, throwing you out of it.

By faintly excusing yourself from the group you let yourself lose on Eren's grip as he slipped you away from the crowd and towards the kitchen.

Levi didn't want to have to take a trip to the bathroom of a sorority house. In thought it seemed disgusting and unsanitary, but he had so much to drink that his body had been begging and screaming to him for some sort of relief.

He assumed the upstairs bathroom would be clean, supposing there weren't any horny young adults crushing their reproductive organs against eachother as there would normally be at any party of this nature.

With a steady knock that elicited no answer or even a simple grunt from the other side of the door he knew he was good to go. With a movement of his wrist the handle twisted and he slowly let himself in, eager to get through the process as fast as possible.

A few moments later and the fly of his distressed jeans was being zipped up again, tucked neatly under his black crewneck's bottom. He scrunched his sleeves up above his elbows and run his hand under the sink, waiting for the water to warm up.

His face looked tainted in the mirror; puffy eyebags and a deadpan expression while his lips stayed chapped. In an attempt to look presentable he run his now excessively washed hands through his front bangs tagging slightly to form a little volume at the roots.

He hadn't expected to swoon so easily at the sight of you being playfully entangled with Eren. He hadn't expected his heart to sink at the sight of you being explicitly affectionate with anyone before him and he wondered if it was simply due to the fact that he hadn't been accostumed to it. He certainly hadn't expected of Eren to step in and swoop you away before his very eyes; the pain of seeing you next to a friend of his seemed even more devastating for a few seconds.

Nevertheless, the little shit had always had an eye on you, even if he liked to consider himself as a protegee if his.

Levi wondered if you had felt that loathing feeling as well. Petra hadn't been that private about their relationship, with her constant posts on Instagram, her continuous snaps of him on a daily basis. Whereas he hadn't seen you post many things in the course of eight months.

He had brushed off the idea of scrolling through your socials a numerous times before finally agreeing on linking with Petra. Secretly he'd search for your shared photos, hoping they'd appear out of nowhere on your profile. Secretly he'd stare at his archived posts, contemplating on whether he should keep photos of a better time protected or whether he should delete them.

Now with his back against the sink to prevent himself from catching his reflection judging him, he unlocked his phone and tapped the familiar fuchsia icon. As expected, Eren's profile icon flashed in a pink and orange ombre circle before all others, signaling he had posted a story. Not supressing his pulled heartstrings who were set to call the shots tonight, Levi tapped on the icon with such force that a loud tapping sound filled his ears.

The video loaded painfully slow, his data connection giving in to the thick bathroom walls. Eren's face flashed on his screen, sheepish smile adorning his features."There's no hope for us!" He spoked in blurred pronounciation. "Even the anti smoker is smoking!" In a quick sequence the camera angle shifted on you, apathetically taking a drag out of a freshly rolled cigarette while cussing him out in a stern tone.

Silently he scrunched his nose and clicked his tongue in annoyance. Surely you still hadn't learnt from past mistakes. In seldom occasions you'd smoke while mixing your drinks, nothing unusual for people at your age; although Levi knew better than to do it consciously, you sometimes did. He had been strick and unforgiving on you, snapping out on you the following day for not taking good care of yourself. Clearly his short temper had only pushed you to riot now that you were away from him.

When the door shot open, causing him to jump and nearly let his phone slip away from his grip, he couldn't bring himself to realise for how long he'd been sitting in the bathroom, replaying Eren's story.

His eyes quickly recognised you as you shot your arms to pull your hair away from your face. He had seen you from every possible angle, a feeling that once upon a time had made him feel sick and trapped, pushing him to make stressed decisions. Every little detail of yours was curved in the back of his brain, awaiting for moments like this to unleash. It was easy like that to recognize you for miles ago.

As much as he'd like to, he didn't make a move towards you, afraid that maybe if you saw him out of all people in this state you'd jump in fear.

Nonetheless he couldn't help the silent inquiry concerning your condition not slip off his mouth. "You alright there?"

"I'm fine." You gulped, supressing the urge to spill your stomach's insides before the person behind you. "It's just- my ex is here and I- I guess I got stressed and I smoked and I drunk too much and ugh-" you cringed at the way you overshared your personal matters with a stranger, although you momentarily found comfort in the action. No one could judge you if they didn't know you, right?

"You don't say!"

Of course luck wouldn't be on your side. Ever since you laid your eyes on him a few hours ago you knew it in your heart this night would fall in crumbles, but did it really have to be this way?

You jumped, startled at the sight of Levi's familiar face, ignoring the way your heart fell as hard as a rock in your stomach, ignoring the vertigo like feeling to numb the poor organ. Puke hitched in your throat and you ripped your eyes away from his form in a panicked state. Your stomach emptied in the porcelain toilet, leaving atrocious sounds as it burned and scratched on your throat. You feel your whole body go weak with every shot of your stomach. Your hands couldn't keep their grasp on your hair; they quickly fell near your legs.

Levi crouched to your side in a heartbeat, his quick instincts getting the best of him as he grabbed your hair tenderly in order to keep it away from your face.

"Fuck, just how much did you even drink?" He whispered, hand reluctantly reaching to soothe down your back.

"You should know." You barked. "You were staring. How dare you?"

He had grown accustomised to quite make out your mutters by assuming what you were feeling in the moment. Athough, as your excessive vomiting came to an alt, you yanked your hair angrily out of his hands, refusing to associate yourself with him anymore.

As you meticulously washed your hands and mouth you noticed his stretched hand shielded the way to the door, blocking you from exiting. Your dizzy state didn't allow you to be feisty as you fixated your interest in swooning over the way his arms looked with his sleeves rolled up. You took a mental note to scold yourself for that very fact once you were sober enough.

"I have to go to my friends, thanks for helping me."

"You're not going anywhere." You noticed his breath hitched as he spoke. Was he equally as drunk? Wasn't he supposed to handle his alcohol like he had always said? Just how much had he had to drink? "You're not going anywhere until you tell me why you drunk so much."

Your silent thoughts geared up inside your brain, ready to skyrocket out of your mouth the moment you opened it to speak. "It's because you're here and you're with her and seeing the two of you in action is only making it real!"

Levi erratically blinked at your word vomiting. He hadn't expected you to just spill out those words without a notice it a warning, hell, even a little warm up would be nice to help him form a preserved reaction without becoming a drunk stuttering mess.

Without warning your hands wrapped around him, chests pressed against each other in the firmest way possible, sending shivers down his newly sweating spine. Normally, he'd say he hated the way you nuzzled against the crook of his neck, wiggling your nose through his crewneck sweater to coo into his warmth. Normally, he'd pinch himself and wake up and you would disappear, never to been seen laying beside him in such manner again.

Normally his blood wouldn't pump profoundly in his veins in excitement and lust as your touch and your smell.

As the sweet aroma of vanilla and pergamont englulfed his nostrils his arms loosened around him before jumping to the sides of your face, yanking it away from his neck. His next move was crucial; thumbs tenderly stroked on your cheeks as his stormy eyes looked silently into yours. He could only listen to his heartbeat as he crushed his mouth against yours in a feverous manner.

His body pushed against yours in need to pull you into the kiss as you responded with equal effort to your passion. Fortunately for him you had spent minutes trying meticulous wash out any smell or taste away from your mouth with some oral hygiene products you had happened to come across in the cupboards. The fact that he was drunk didn't mean he was inconsiderate of his need for everything to be clean.

All in all, be wasn't sure how the two of you ended up in the backseat of his car, topless with your tongues genuinely battling for dominance.

He must have been in a haze as he pushed past and out of the crowd, erratically trying to remember the general direction in which his car was parked.

As his hands gripped everywhere he could find his eyes didn't dare to shoot open. Existing in this moment, dry humping to your hips from underneath you. Tiny bumps adorned your skin every time he touched you. The freezing air of December had finally brushed its effect on both of you, soft shivers shook your whole form and he couldn't help but notice.

He couldn't think straight, despite wanting to though.

Your lips launched in the soft spot on his neck in an effortless manner. To him it was obvious you hadn't forgotten his own anatomy; all the places that you touched teased him perfectly to submission making him sink into the black industrial seat.

Your hands passionately grabbed the back of his hair, elbows colliding with the skin just under his collarbone.

"I've missed this, I've longed for this."

Your words, whether they were intentional or not, slit through his chest and set fire to the wound, causing another wave of stressful passion to spread from his stomach to his whole body. Chaste kisses were places all over his face, underneath his bangs, on his eyes, even the tenders corners of his jaw.

Your noses crashed, your breaths mingling in the air as your lips found his again.

You moved your lips in perfect synch, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle that were fabricated to fit perfectly on eachother. It hurt you that your bodies were working against your sober wills. You made another note to punish yourself for that as well once you were in your right mind.

His hands wrapped tighter around your back, crashing you impossibly closer next to him. Your chest fought to rise and fall as squirms escaped you, engulfed into his mouth.

"We shouldn't do this here, I'm not up to voyeuring anyone." He remarked, but fell silent as you placed another brushing kiss on his lips before pulling back to slightly nod in agreement.

Before you knew it you were wrapped in his jacket, your top long forgotten in an unseen corner of his car. His own charcoal black crewneck shielded his body from your sight as he hit the pedals of his car almost too closely to the allowed speed limit.

Long forgotten were his friends and date to the first party, long forgotten were any attempts to find excuses for whatever had ignited what was happening.

The trip to his apartment was quicker than what you had expected; maybe it was for the alcohol in your system that left you in a constant vertigo, but your head wasn't getting any better. The warm golden Christmas city lights adorned every single aspect of the streets and captivated your eyes spreading their heat into your whole form. With Christmas around the corner the current situation felt even more alluring to indulge into.

Christmas always meant Levi, in a way.

You swore you only blinked for a second once you entered the apartment building front door but when you opened your eyes you were before his door.

As always, it read 25B.

In a flash you were underneath him in his bed, hair sprawled everywhere around you as his lips angrily assaulted your collarbones. You didn't trust your drunk antics to tell you if the night was still young, but you assumed it could still labor a few more hours of the greediness between two long lost lovers.

"I" he started acting kissed on your lips as his hands came to mingle with the button of your jeans. "Want you to know." Another kiss was placed on your lips. "That" another "I-"

This time you cut him off with your swollen lips on his, sucking all air out of his lungs. "Just kiss me and we'll talk about this afterwards."

Your eyes throbbed as light entered their cavities, reflecting on your irises despite your best wishes. You had only just shot out a hand to shield them from the warm rays of sun when panic stabbed through your chest like a murderous intruder.

They blueyish grey tink to the walls and the futuristic design of the drawers and nightstands were all too familiar to you. They stood there, mocking you on all their dark chocolaty color for being unable to come up with an immediate answer to your whereabouts.

Your head was being occasionally jolted in throbbing hot pain as you decided to look around you in the matress, in hopes of recognising the person to whom the newly sounding grunts belonged to.

To your utter shock and disbelief, Levi shot up from his position on the bed. You watched as his eyes widened at the sight of you, grey orbs slightly shrinking in shock and realisation.

"What did you-" he began but soon his hand shot up to his own throbbing head. "Shit just how much did we have to drink?"

"Okay I have a better question," you added to your shared misery "are you as naked as I am?"

It was on rare occasions that you had seen such irrational panic mask Levi's face, yet this time must have been the most striking one amongst the ones you could recall. His skin had lost at least two shades of color, his lips parted slightly. His forehead was cringled as his eyebrows were skyrocketing away from his eyes.

Although when he opened his mouth in an attempt to confirm the obvious, he was quickly cut off by the sound of his doorbell being rung, along with three stern knocks on his door. Even his phone started ringing from beside him, adding pressure to his momentarily frozen state. He picked the divice in his hands, fingers shakingly making their way to the acceptance button.

"Hey Petra!"

"Hey love!" You heard the cheerful voice fill the air through his speaker. Petra had a really loud voice, you noticed, it was either that or that your head was about to explode from the hangover. "I'm outside, please open up, you left without even saying goodbye and wouldn't pick up your phone. I'm so worried."

"Tch, give me a second I'll get changes and we can have breakfast at that cafe you like." Levi grunted, his thumb reaching to rub soothing circles on the prominent vein in his forehead.

"Can I come inside?"

Shit.

"Yeah yeah." He spoke as he hit the closing button, his phone being slammed against the bed. His head turned to you, only to reveal a section of his throat that was bruised in lovemarks you had left on him. "Hide, stay silent, I don't know which one, just do it."

After his harsh order, his eyes never had a chance to reach yours as he got up from the bed to sprint to his dresser, hurriedly searching for the only washed black turtleneck he owned. He hadn't even had a chance to look himself in the mirror, but knowing you, you couldn't have held back from munching on the skin in his throat.

Upon his quick discovery, he threw on a pair of gray of sweats that he recover from the hanger behind his door.

You didn't dare speak, hell you didn't even dare move, the fear of being discovered in such pretentious position -as the third person- in a house you once had lived in overtook your natural senses and your irrational thinking. Your heart didn't cease to sink as moments later you heard the door click open, then immediately close.

The familiar buzzing sound of silence filled your ears a few moments later. This time realisation kicked in immediately in hopes of drowning your mind in excessive amounts of overthinking. That's how it was then?

Your head plopped down the pillows, sinking deeper and deeper with each passing second. Your heart skipped essential beats and your breathing hitched in your throat. Only one question stood on top of others.

What had you done?

Tags because yay: @sasageyowrites @levisbrat25 and @ackermans-freedom-inc because I know they were excited for this story and the new addition to my taglist (??) @alrightberries 👉🏻❤️👈🏻

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi #levi snk #levi aot #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman imagine #levi shingeki no kyojin #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi imagine #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk x reader #aot x reader

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