The stupidest little things make Cas ridiculously happy.
The first time they see a hot air balloon, floating over a small town for no apparent reason. The first time they strip down to their underwear in the middle of summer and jump into a lake. The first time Cas plays a video game. No matter how mundane or normal it seems to Dean, Cas smiles like it’s the most amazing, impossibly wonderful thing that’s ever happened.
Dean finds himself pointing out the little things, finding small ways for them to enjoy life and enjoy each other, just so he can see that smile.
And though he loves it, he can’t help but ask Cas about it one day. They’re driving, and Cas is staring at a faint rainbow in the sky like it’s the first one to ever happen.
“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?”
“Sure, Cas. But, uh. Why are you so into all this stuff?”
“All what stuff, Dean?”
Dean can feel those blue eyes on him without even looking, probably scrunched up, with his head tilted in that way that Dean has grown to love. “All this normal, human stuff. You’ve been around long enough to have seen and done all this before.”
“Yes, but I haven’t seen or done any of it with you before.”
Dean understands instantly. Cas’ words open up something in him, and when he looks from the road up to the rainbow, it’s a little brighter, a little more colorful than it seemed two minutes ago.
He should probably say something, but he’s never been very good at that.
So he just reaches out and holds Cas’ hand.
And that feels like the most amazing thing of all.
First of all, I want to thank blackpaopu for this GORGEOUS art they made. I am so happy they commissioned this, and everyone should totally check out their blog, highly recommend 10/10.
But this is a gift for skypillar! She wrote a fantastic fanfic called “Why the Sun Sets Red” over on AO3 which this piece is based off of. It’s a 358/2 Days AU where Vexen takes Axel’s place and raises befriends Roxas and Xion instead. For anyone who is curious about it, the story does NOT end the same way as it does in the game. It’s cleverly written to accommodate Vexen taking Axel’s role and stays true not only to everyone’s character, but the situations are extremely creative. Just as emotional if not moreso as the original story, I can’t recommend it enough.
I wanted this to capture my favorite chapter in the story because this moment was just so pure and fun. I wanted something to dedicate such a high point in the fic, and so I bestow this gift to her! Happy one year anniversary to “Why the Sun Sets Red”~
Wow I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to do this!!! My friends know me as the queen of daddy kink (and h/c, which will probably be a component in a lot of these fics), so here are a few recs for you guys to enjoy before the new movie comes out <3
Any comments I add will be in italics below the author’s summary.
In which Eggsy really needs a daddy to take care of him, but he would never, ever admit it… until he does.
So this is it. My #1, all time favourite hartwin daddy fic. It’s the most beautiful h/c I’ve ever read, interwoven with an amazing backstory and character development about why Eggsy needs Harry to be his daddy. So beautiful I cry every time. This is a sequel to the author’s famous fic Breathless, which I highly recommend, but can be read as a stand-alone.
Eggsy might be largely uneducated, but he’s not actually stupid. He knows that most people think he’s nothing more than a glorified whore, but the fact is that Eggsy is currently on vacation in Cape Verde, while most of his critics have to deal with the shitty November weather in England. This is not the life Eggsy had in any way imagined or planned, but if an attractive older gentleman wants to take him on expensive vacations and buy him nice things, he’s certainly not going to complain.
Harry grudgingly gives into Eggsy’s near constant begging and lets Eggsy kneel under his desk. He ends up wondering why he needed so much convincing to do it in the first place. Eggsy is a praise junkie and enjoys being Harry’s toy during the day.
Harry’s always been fond of boys with more than a touch of sass. Eggsy’s always had a thing for the daddies. When their paths cross in the middle of an international arms deal, it seems like the perfect bit of quid pro quo - Harry lets Eggsy off the hook for his involvement and Eggsy lets Harry hit it seven ways from Sunday. Except come morning, neither one is going to want to let go - and so begins a very, very raunchy tale of the mouthiest bottom and the dirtiest daddy in all of Her Majesty’s Kingdom.
(otherwise known as the sugar daddy, kink-laden, giant trash pile of filthy goodness that Fae just couldn’t resist)
WARNING this fic is discontinued, but still really amazing and worth a read!!
It’s been a year since Eggsy became a Kingsman agent and saved the world for the first time. He loves his new life and he loves partnering with Harry. But sometimes Eggsy needs more than Harry is willing to give. Sometimes he needs things he left behind in the gutter where Harry found him. And sometimes, he needs it so bad he doesn’t quite care who or where it comes from. It’s never enough though…until the one night when it is.
(or, the rentboy, daddy kink, so much UST it is physically painful smutfic no one asked for)
It doesn’t slip out on purpose. He’s three sheets to the wind, celebrating his twenty-fourth birthday after returning from a recon mission in Sri Lanka, which means he’s jet lagged, too, and anything he says should be taken with a grain of salt. His mum’s on the other side of the room talking to Roxy for God’s sake. If he’d meant to say it, he would have waited for a more appropriate moment.
Though, he’s not sure there will ever be an appropriate moment for accidentally calling Harry daddy.
YAAASSSS. Nothing better than accidentally calling someone daddy.
Eggsy hasn’t been coping well with Harry’s death … but it’s even worse when he finds out Harry is miraculously still alive. A forced confrontation and an accidental admission might just fix everything though.
Literally the first fic I ever read in the Kingsman fandom, and obviously it convinced me to stay ;)
So anyway those are just a few of my favourites, hope you enjoy! And as always hit me up if you want recs for a particular kink and I’ll see what I can do <3
Latte ship: Matt immediately falling for Lance, and ridiculously oblivious Lance who thinks they are becoming bros until Matt literally gibes up trying to woo him and just flat out kisses him
Thanks for the request! Here it is:
(I’ll post this on Ao3 later. Right now it’s having some issues so I’ll add a link when I do it.)
When the team had discovered Matt Shiro and Pidge were ecstatic. There were some hugs, some tears, and more hugs as they brought him back to the castle through the green lion.
After landing Blue gently in her hanger, Lance rushed to the common area, the last to arrive. Shiro, Matt, and Pidge were talking animatedly in the middle of the room as the others sat around on the couches, a pleased hum permeating the room after the successful mission. He moved forward, slipping into the gap between Shiro and Pidge. As he got a look at Pidge’s brother he felt his face heat up.
Matt looked almost exactly like Pidge, but his face was a little sharper, a little older and a shock of white like Shiro’s ran through the fringe on his left. In other words he made Lance’s heart speed up a little. Matt turned, stopping mid sentence as their eyes met. Lance was frozen and Matt marched forward, sticking his hand out.
“My name’s Matt, but you can call me anytime.”
Lance stuttered but took Matt’s hand, shaking it firmly. “I uh- I’m Lance.”
“Gross Matt.” Pidge shoved her brother half-heartedly, breaking the connection between their hands.
Lance smiled awkwardly. Was he actually flirting? “He was just joking around Pidge.” No, people didn’t flirt with Lance. Lance flirted with others and was rejected or betrayed, that’s how things went. He turned to Matt, “Are you a thief? Cause i’m pretty sure you just stole my heart.” He snapped some finger guns and gave a cocky smile as Matt laughed. They were gonna get along just fine.
Throughout the next couple months Matt spent most of his time with Pidge or Shiro, but he always made time for Lance. Their meetings usually started with a pick up line from Matt, and they were never the same.
“I’m no photographer but I can picture us together.”
“Is your name Wi-Fi? Because I’m feeling a connection.”
“Your eyes are blue, like the ocean. And baby, I’m lost at sea.”
Lance usually responded with his own joking line as Pidge and Shiro (and the others but not as prominently) would groan in the background. He and Matt actually grew pretty close though.. As Matt got more comfortable around the castle they began to spend more and more time together, talking about everything from the best memes to more serious subjects like Matt’s time with the Galra or Lance’s insecurities. More than once there were some comforting hugs and touches.
It was a night like those when Lance realized he’d fallen for Matt. They’d been discussing what they would do when they got back to Earth. Lance had told tales of garlic knots and Cuban beaches and of how he wanted to see his family again, show them how much he’d grown. After a while their shoulders had pressed together as they looked out a window into space.
“I think I’d take like a month to just play all the video games that came out and browse tumblr for all the memes that i missed. Hey, maybe you could come with me! We could co-op on some of the stuff or we could just hang! Wouldn’t that be awesome?” Matt had such a hopeful look on his face. The light brown in Matt’s eyes mixed with the colors of the universe around them. He was gorgeous. Lance felt his chest tighten.
“Yeah.” He whispered. He was so screwed. “That would be very awesome.”
Surprisingly their confession wasn’t such a romantic moment. They’d been playing Mario Kart on the system that Pidge and Hunk had rigged up to the Altean version of a Tv when Matt had paused the game. Lance turned, about to question why he’d stopped when Matt blurted out a pick up line. “Your lips look lonely. Would they like to meet mine?”
Lance flushed, internally berating himself for reacting. He couldn’t really think of a good response though, and settle for a wobbly smile. “That’s a good one dude.” He moved his gaze back to the game but didn’t get chance to start playing.
Two hands gripped his collar with a rushed, “For fuck’s sake.” Lance was pulled to the side and lips smashed against his own. Momentarily stunned Lance froze, mentally rebooting. Matt was kissing him. HolyshitMattwaskissinghim.
Matt pulled back, eyes searching Lance’s face and releasing his hands. Panic washed over his features. “Oh my god, I am so sorry I should have known you didn’t feel the same-”
The rest of Matt’s apology faded into the background to Lance as he rushed forward, knocking Matt onto his back and shoving their mouths back together, holding himself up. It was just pressure, but lips began to move and glide together gently in a slow dance as they relaxed into the motions. Matt’s lips were cracked in a stark contrast to Lance’s own, but he didn’t care. Hands threaded themselves in Lance’s hair. A leg rose to nudge against his hip and Lance found himself on his back, Matt leaning over him. While his left remained in Lance’s hair, Matt’s right hand stroked his cheek.
“I’m going to assume that means you like me too?”
Lance could only nod, a little overwhelmed, but loving it anyway. Matt grinned and pressed his palm more firmly to the underside of Lance’s jaw and dragged his lips over Lance’s again. Hot was about the only thought that Lance could solidly form. The thumb stroking over his pulse and the fingernails scratching against his scalp flushed heat from his face to his toes. Lance gripped the side of Matt’s shirt over his ribs, pulling the boy on top of him, chests flush.
A wet stroke passed over Lance’s bottom lip, followed by the sharp, but gentle press of teeth. A small gasp passed Lance’s mouth, and he had begun to open for Matt when a voice interrupted.
“Hey Lance, I need my brother back so if you- AAAH MY EYES!” Pidge screeched and covered her eyes with the data pad she had been focused on. Lance and Matt flinched back from one another and turned to Pidge, but she had already run out of the room.
They laughed, leaning into one another. As they settled down, fingers threaded through Lance’s and he gripped them back. Maybe he wasn’t so screwed.
After the encounter with Jungkook
you feel like you have hope. The first time he’d seemed adamant, but this time
he seemed vulnerable. You feel like you have part of the puzzle that tells you
why Jungkook is the way he is but fuck if you aren’t desperate to know the
rest. You haven’t given up on him and you feel like he hasn’t given up on you
either and on your elder soulmate.
‘Y/n?’ Hyunmi calls from the
bathroom whilst you’re cooking an omelette in the kitchen.
‘Yeah?’ you shout back, using a
spoon to push the egg away from the sides of the pan.
‘Wanna go to a basketball game
tonight?’ she says poking her towel-wrapped head out from the door.
‘Is that supposed to take my mind
off things?’ you ask, arching an eyebrow.
‘Shut up, it’ll be fun. I love
basketball.’ She continues, huffing.
‘Yeah, I guess, might as well.’
Your omelette turns out sub-par,
your attempt at flipping the other half over didn’t quite go to plan but fuck
it –it tastes good. You don’t have any classes today but you need to make a
start on your theory coursework. You start with cadences and begin at least two
hours worth of melody and harmony techniques. It’s half five by the time you’re
finished and you scramble to get dressed. You opt for some trendy shit, you’re
pretty bold with your fashion choices (a passion of yours for creative outlet)
and head of the door with Hyunmi in tow.
When you get to the stadium it’s
packed. I mean unsurprisingly considering that it’s a professional KBL game. As
you and Hyunmi take your seats you notice the wood of the gym floor and your
brow furrows at the familiarity of it. You’ve definitely never been here but
the déjà vu is unmistakable. You shake it off. You’re clutching a large slushie
and Hyunmi too as you wait for the players to come out.
‘It’s the Seoul Knights vs. the
Incheon Electroland Elephants.’ Hyunmi states, nonchalantly. You’re pissing
yourself and choke a little bit on your drink.
‘Electroland Elephants. Are you
having a fucking laugh?’ you burst out.
‘I know, like what the fuck?
Moving on, I’m definitely here for the knights. Kim Namjoon is a god and I’m
ready to see him live, in action.’ She’s practically swooning and you laugh at
her adoration. Not many people get to see fan-girl Hyunmi and you’re glad
you’re one of the few.
A few minutes later the mascots
come out, pumping up their sides of the crowd with more skill than you
expected. The backflips they managed to do surprised you, was basketball really
this serious that they needed an Olympic gymnast for a mascot? Looked like they
got a bad deal considering the costumes they had to wear.
Once the mascots have finished
it’s finally time for the teams to start coming out and as they file out into
the court the crowd is going fucking wild. The Knights roll of the right
entrance in fire engine red and the Electroland Elephants (seriously wtf?) out
of the left in sky blue.
‘There he is! Number 94. Fuck… he
looks so good.’ Hyunmi points to a tall man, smiling out at the crowd,
showcasing his deep dimples.
‘Wow, yeah he’s gorgeous.’ You
remark, admiring his lean physique and pure beauty. You watch the rest of the Knights as they keep
coming out and notice number 7 running around the court madly, hyping up the
crowd. He’s probably on of the happiest people you’ve ever seen.
Hyunmi’s watching him too.
‘That’s Jung Hoseok, he looks cute now but he’s a fucking machine in the game.’
You nod and look over the other players. It’s weird something about the uniform
seems so familiar but you can’t place what it is. The last player for the
Knights comes through the entrance and you grip the edge of your seat as you
realise why everything seemed so fucking recognizable. There was your soulmate;
he looked even more gorgeous than ever. His determined expression looked fierce
and you wondered how you couldn’t have noticed sooner.
‘Hyunmi…’ you whisper,
‘Yeah…?’ she answers, giving you
a nervous look.
‘Th- that’s him.’ You respond.
‘What? Which one? Holy shit.’ She
‘Min Yoongi is your soulmate? You
lucky shit.’ She gasps.
‘I- I gotta go.’ You say
repeating the same words Jungkook had said to you. You scramble to gather your
bag and get out of that stadium as soon as you possibly can. You can’t take
your eyes off of him as you run up the steps until he’s out of sight as you
reach the merch area. You lean against we wall, you can hardly breathe and your
crying uncontrollably as your panic attack clutches you.
‘Y/N! Y/n, fuck come here.’
Hyunmi wraps her arms around you as you try and calm yourself down. Hyunmi
rocks you gently, trying to sooth you in any way that she can. It takes at
least 10 minutes for you to properly calm down.
‘You need to go see him, babe.’
Hyunmi says to you gently.
‘I’m scared. I don’t need my
heart to break twice.’ You say curling even more into her as if to hide
‘But you deserve to try and fix
it. Come on.’ She assures, standing away from your grasp and holding her hand
out for you. You stand reluctantly and wipe the tears from your face as the two
of you make your way back to your seats.
As you sit down Yoongi’s jumping
up onto the hoop to score a basket and the crowd cheers madly. He looks so into
the game that you can’t imagine he would see you if you did a trapeze act over
the audience. The look in his eyes is sexy, he looks thirsty for a win and the
fire and passion that he’s wearing on his sleeve almost turns you on. He plays
point guard that much is obvious and he does a fucking good job of it. Yoongi,
Namjoon and Hoseok are the clear star players half of the crowd has signs with
their names up. Yoongi is popular, you’ve never really been that much into
sports but Hyunmi tells you the media follow those three closely. How had you
never seen him on TV or something? You guess it’s just not where you were
expecting to find your soulmate.
There’s thirty seconds left in
the game and the Knights need a three pointer to secure their win. 29, 94 and 7
are monsters, switching the ball between three of them so that as soon as the
opponents see it with one of them it’s switched to the next. Yoongi has the
ball, he has to act fast cause there are at least three elephants on him. Ten
seconds on the clock. He dodges his opponent and shoots the ball over their
heads. Namjoon catches it as Hoseok runs forward to the line, Namjoon aims the
ball towards Hoseok and you think fuck they’ve lost it –that shot is way too
obvious. Four seconds left. Namjoon abruptly passes the ball backwards to
Yoongi who you hadn’t even noticed was there, all the focus being on Namjoon
and Hoseok. Yoongi dribbles the ball forward. Shoots. Two seconds. Wins.
You and Hyunmi jump up cheering
with the rest of the crowd and even though you haven’t quite met him yet you
are so proud –your man did that! The Knights are roaring and cheering, huddling
together in happiness. Hyunmi stands and begins pulling you down the steps
towards the barrier where the cameras are focused on the Knights. You’d ask
what she was doing but you had a pretty good idea, the anxiety twisted your
stomach and felt a lump in your throat, as Yoongi’s gummy smile became clearer
When you reached the barrier there
were plenty of people calling Yoongi’s name. How the hell is he gonna notice
you? He’s just scored the winning basket for one of the most important games of
the season. Everyone wants to talk to him –fans, reporters, and spokesmen.
‘Right. Fuck it.’ Hyunmi states
and begins to push your ass over the barrier.
‘What the fuck are you doing?’
you demand. Trying to push yourself back towards her.
‘Desperate times, desperate
measures. Go over and get him!’ she urges using more force to push you over.
You stumble over the side and security guards haven’t quite noticed you yet but
you know it won’t be long. Yoongi’s in the center of the court, in the throng
of people shaking hands with his opponents. You sprint towards him, looking
like a desperate fan and a complete idiot. Security’s noticed you and you call
out for Yoongi as you can feel them coming after you. His head raises and he
looks around for where the voice came from. His eyes find yours just as you’re
about four feet from him.
‘Oh my god…’ he says staring at
you in shock.
‘I’m Y/n. I’m your soulmate.’ You
say just as two security guards grip your arms ready to drag you off the court.
‘Stop! Get the fuck off her.’
Yoongi says eyes narrowed at the security guards.
They drop their hands, looking embarrassed
that they hadn’t understood you were with Yoongi, not that they had any reason
to. Suddenly strong arms are enveloping you around your waist as Yoongi hugs
you fiercely. You breathe a sigh of relief and pull your arms out of his clutch
to pull him closer. His face is burrowed in the crook of your neck and you rest
his hands on top of his soft blond hair that’s pushed back by a sweatband. You
stroke it gently. Quickly you notice everyone’s focus is on you, the cameras,
the fans and the reporters announcing that Min Yoongi, professional basketball
player has found his soulmate.
Yoongi lifts his head up and
whispers into your ear: ‘I’ll get you out of here, follow me.’ He detangles
himself from you and grasps your hand as he guides you towards the entrance
you’d seen him come from before the game. The questions of the crowd being
screamed at you fade away as you enter what appears to be an office.
‘Fuck, I like really want to talk
to you but I’m all gross so let me shower and then… we’ll talk?’ he asks
tentatively and you wouldn’t in a million years imagine him to be nervous.
‘Yeah, sure.’ You beam at him,
he’s not a dick and you’re so happy. He turns quickly and his eagerness to get
back to you is overwhelming with how much Jungkook wanted the opposite. You sit
on the edge of the desk and text Hyunmi that you don’t think you’ll be back
anytime soon and she wishes you luck.
Fifteen minutes later you’re
still waiting for Yoongi when number 7 and 94 walk in.
‘Hey! Y/n right?’ Hoseok asks
with a bright smile.
‘Yeah, hi. You guys played really
well today. Congratulations.’ You respond, nervous to make a good first
impression on Yoongi’s friends.
‘Ah thank you,’ Namjoon says ‘
we’re just so hyped to meet you. Yoongi’s never really been open about his love
life. I think he’s always been waiting for you. I’m Namjoon by the way.’ He
greets, flashing his dimples that up close, kind of have you melting a little
‘And I’m Hoseok.’ He says with an
equally beautiful smile. At that moment Yoongi pokes his head around the corner
and makes a face as he sees the two men with you.
‘Ah, this is just unfair. You
guys have probably spoken to her more than me now.’ He says, playfully bitter.
‘Yeah, yeah, we’re going.’
Namjoon says laughing at Yoongi. Hoseok ruffles Yoongi’s hair as they exit and
you’re left alone. You hop up on the desk to sit and Yoongi stands in front of
you smiling with his gums bared and this looks especially cute in person.
‘Fuck, this is surreal.’ He lets
‘Yeah, I mean I’ve been waiting
for you for a long fucking time.’ You reply and he’s looking away like he’s
trying to pretend he isn’t shy, suppressing a smile. It’s funny seeing him so vulnerable;
in the mirror he’s always had the air of a cool, calm guy but the other side of
him is nice to see.
‘I feel like I’ve known you a
really long time.’ He says gently.
‘You have.’ You smile and reach
up to push your fingers through his hair like you’ve always wanted to. Yoongi
leans into your touch and it feels so right between the two of you.
‘Tell me everything.’ He says
suddenly. You laugh at him, not knowing where to start. You talk for hours
leaning gently on each other as you talk about your childhood, all the memories
of each other but you aren’t surprised when he asks.
‘Have you met him yet?’ he asks.
Shit. Should you tell him? Thinking of Jungkook your heart wrenches. You can’t
do that to Yoongi –let Jungkook break him worse than he has you.
‘He’s so pretty isn’t he? I want
to ruin him… and you.’ He says suggestively and you can’t help but think how
fucking hot he is. He moves to stand between your legs; you’re still sat up on
‘Mm, I’d like that.’ You say,
looking up at him through your lashes. You tug his shirt to pull him even
closer. You’ve been waiting for this forever; you don’t feel the need to take
‘Yeah, baby? Want me to take you
right here?’ he says and you hold eye contact for a moment before he bends down
to capture your lips. The kiss embodies fire and passion and doesn’t stop to take
it slow. Yoongi’s tongue explores your mouth and he’s fucking hungry. You bite
his lip as he pulls away and groans as you do so.
‘Fuck, you’re kinda dirty aren’t
you, princess?’ he says, slightly breathless as he leans down further to suck
hickeys onto your collarbone. You gasp as he does so –you have a weakness for
hickeys and the flick of his tongue against you makes your pussy throb.
‘Can I call you daddy?’ you say
slightly nervous but desperate to do so, you’ve thought of Yoongi like that for
years. He stops his actions and you worry he’s disgusted.
‘Fuck yeah you can.’ He says
seeming more turned on as his grip on your waist tightens. You grin and tug his
shirt up until he lifts his arms up for you to pull it over his head. He’s lean
and covered in a thin layer of muscle from basketball practice you assume. His
arms are thick for his size and his torso alone is an absolute turn on.
He then kneels down between your
legs and pulls off your trainers before following with your skirt. There’s a
wet patch on the front of your underwear and he presses his thumb against it,
rubbing circles there. Your thighs try to close due to your sensitivity but
Yoongi grips your thigh.
‘Keep them open for me, baby.’ He
says as he begins sliding your panties off.
‘Okay, daddy.’ You say feeling
the cool air hit your core, causing you to shiver.
He flings the clothing into a
corner before licking a stripe through your folds and you moan at the
sensation. He starts off slow: nibbling and sucking gently before he goes in.
He flicks at your clit and you take a sharp intake of breath as he does so.
‘Look how fucking wet you are,
such a pretty pussy, baby. You taste so good’ he praises.
‘Ah, fuck, daddy…’ you moan as he
then sucks on your clit. He’s so into it he looks like he could be enjoying it
more than you are. Your hand reaches down to run your hands through his blonde
hair before you grip the locks firmly. He groans as you do and moves his tongue
down to your opening, thrusting inside harshly and you let out a high-pitched
noise of surprise. He brings his thumb up to play with your clit and you’re
overwhelmed with the two sensations. You grab at the hair at the back of his
neck and thrust against his face gently. You’re practically shaking when he
rubs faster at the bundle of nerves and your thighs close around his head with
oversensitivity. He pulls away from your pussy and leaves sloppy hickies on
your thighs before you pull him up for another kiss.
This time it’s messier and harder
and you moan into his mouth. He pulls your shirt over your head as you
simultaneously undo his belt and jeans before shoving them down his thighs. He
pulls away to shake them from his ankles but then dives straight back in,
gripping your hips with a newfound strength that you hope leaves marks in the
morning. You feel his length against your thigh wishing he would just get his
fucking boxers off already and use your ankles to ease them down his legs and
he reaches around your back to unclasp your bra and then pull it from you.
He tugs a nipple into his mouth before biting
on it. ’Mm perfect babygirl, you’re so perfect.’ You look down at his dick and
can’t help but reach to his head and smooth the precum around his tip.
‘Ah, fuck princess turn over,
chest flat on the desk, ass up.’ He demands and reaches to tug his boxers
completely off as you follow his command. You hear him kneel down behind you
and before you know it he bites your ass hard and god if you don’t want to see
those bite marks afterwards. He stands and slaps your ass as if he’s watching
it jiggle and you moan at the feeling. He does it again.
‘You fucking like that, huh?
Daddy’s little slut.’ He says repeating the action once more before lining his
erection up with your wet pussy. ‘Here we go, baby.’ He pushes in gently and
you let out a shuddering breath of pleasure as he slowly eases himself in and
out to stretch you. He grips your hip with one hand as he quickly slams into
you. He sets a fast rhythm after that and the slap of his pelvis against your
ass could be mistaken as thunder and you’re moaning like a porn star.
‘Does my dick feel good,
princess? You like daddy’s thick cock pounding into you, yeah? Listen to how
you’re moaning for me, like a fucking whore.’ His words are driving you crazy
and you cry out at the immense pleasure. ‘Answer daddy when he asks you a
‘Yes, daddy. It feels so good, I
love it.’ You reply.
‘For me too baby, your pussy
feels so good, so wet for me, squeezing me so good princess.’ He bends over you
and presses his chest against your back, his hot breath in your ear as he
continues his relentless pace. You can’t believe his stamina. He kisses your
neck leaving even more hickies behind your ear and at the nape of your neck. He
reaches his hand round to your chin and pushes it towards him so he can kiss
you. It’s fervent and desperate.
He pulls out and you whine at the
loss thinking he’s going to stop. ‘I’m coming back, turn over I wanna see your
face when I make you cum.’ you roll over onto your back and he’s entering you
again, somehow thrusting faster and harder. He’s staring at you so intensely
and you for the hundredth time admire his features. He’s biting his lip as both
of your orgasms begin to build.
You’re climbing fast when
suddenly he pulls out and stays there, you whine and grasp his perky ass and
attempt to pull him forward.
‘Beg for it.’ He says.
‘Fuck, please daddy I want it so
bad. I need it.’ You cry.
‘What do you need, baby?’
‘Your dick, daddy. I need it in
me, please, feels so good.’ He smirks, pushing in again and you feel so close
it’s insane. He’s holding your thick thighs and using them to press in harder
and harder and it’s then that you’re cumming. Crying out so loud Yoongi swears
the pictures on the wall are shaking and he finds it so sexy. He pushes on
through your orgasm, chasing his own and as his thrusts become more sloppy he
spills inside of you but he keeps gently thrusting through his orgasm.
You sit up and pull his head into
the crook of your neck as he breathes heavily, shook from how hard he came.
Once his breathing evens he presses a kiss to your jaw and then another to your
lips, this time sweet, loving, gentle. His forehead rests against yours and you
watch each other as he pulls out. Your pussy clenches at the loss and Yoongi
quickly reaches for your panties and pulls them onto you so none of his cum
spills too much.
‘I got real lucky with you’ he
says, helping you to ease off of the desk.
‘Mm, me too.’ You respond,
basking in the afterglow of some good ass sex. He dresses you lovingly, taking
his careful time and presses a kiss to your forehead once he’s finished. He
dresses himself then before taking your hand.
‘I’m really not meant to be this soft.’
He says laughing shyly.
‘I just mean no one would expect
it from me.’ He says smiling.
‘I’m glad you are.’ You say and
he turns his head away, embarrassed.
‘Ah stop, I can’t handle it.’ He states,
a soft blush to his cheeks. ‘Let me take you home?’
‘Please.’ You say and he walks
you out of the office, a smile of content on both of your faces.
A/N: Hi everyone, I’m so glad so
many people liked the first part?? Highkey expected no one to read it, I hope
you enjoy this part just as much. Just want to let everyone know Incheon
Electroland Elephants is an actual KBL team and that if you don’t like dom
yoongi I’m definitely planning to explore different power dynamics throughout this
series so stay tuned!
Hi my fellow Prompto lovers!
♥ ❤ ❥ So I recently just created lyrics to go along with Prompto’s theme. I don’t know why…but I felt like this gorgeous piece of music needed some?
Anyways, it probably sounds really depressing as I was in that mood and wrote it late at night, but if you want you can sing along with the song and cry your eyes out! lol (as if we haven’t shed enough tears for this game) Well, without further ado…here they are (=*3*=)/ *✲ﾟ*
Author Note: Thank you so much again @rainbowspouses for all the help with this part!!! Love you babes!!!💜💜💜 MWAH~💜🐢
Length: really long
Warnings: SMUT!!!!, mentions of murder
Today was the day. You would finally get the answers you wanted from Jerome. You were sitting at your desk getting out his file.
A loud noise rings throughout the quiet room as the door is unlocked and opened, Jerome emerges in his arkham uniform and shackled at his hands and feet…his prominent smile upon seeing you was hard to miss.
“It sure has been a while, hasn’t it doll?”
You looks up at him, a frown stained on your lips.
“Take a seat Mr. Valeska.”
You tried to stay professional but it was hard. You flipped through the file the threw it on your desk and ran a hand through your hair.
Jerome’s smile falters at first before plastering back on his face double the size it was before. He realized what you were doing. Jerome can tell that you had missed him just as much as he has missed you, but you areholding back…two can play at that game. He took a seat with his elbows resting on your desk leaning impossibly close.
“You know, sweetheart! I’ve never liked it when you frown, gorgeous, but my my, I must admit, you’ve always looked so beautiful when you do,” he utters slowly in a deep guttural tone as he stares you down.
You gulped. You had to stay professional or else they may take him away from you. You sat straight up in her chair.
“I asked you a question Mr. Valeska and I would appreciate you answering it. In case you forgot the question I am obliged to repeat it. Why did you kill your mother?”
You didn’t like it. The way you had to talk to him. You felt as if the two of you were complete strangers. Hell you would do anything just to be able to hug him and kiss him and tell him how much you had missed him. But you couldn’t. In your eyes there was a deep conflicting pain but you still kept your composure.
He gives you a hard stare and leans back in his seat. He rubs his chin with his hand, appearing to be deep in thought. He wasn’t thinking about what he was going to tell you, although he was almost certain that is what you’re expecting. He’s thinking about how much this hurts, he knows deep down why you are behaving this way…if anybody here finds out that the new hire had a thing with him, they’ll never be able to see each other again.
Even though, he definitely knows that this is what’s going on deep down, all common sense is going out the window. He is starting to bubble with anger and he is trying hard not to let it take over, but he’s loosing his patience!
He leans forward again and slams his hands down on the desk hard, his eyes intently staring you down. His face becomes stone, as his eyes turn dark and his tone becomes malicious; venom-laced even
“You know damn well why I killed that whore of a mother, you know exactly the stuff she has done! The bitch had it coming and for you to sit here and trying to pretend like you have no clue isn’t really setting well with me, doll…cut the act!”
He felt guilt wash over him immediately, you had never witnessed him behave like this before.
You jumped in your seat when he slammed his fists down. Your eyes widened with fear. You were shaking. You scribbled down what he said and then shakily went to another question.
“H-How d-did you you feel when yo-u k-killed her?”
You looked down pretending to be ready to write but really you were trying to avoid his gaze. You were scared and there was no hiding it. Hell you could barely get your question out.
You tried to control your shaking and regain your composure and you managed to do both, but your grip had over obviously gripped tighter on the clip board.
He was back to growing impatient at this point. You weren’t really paying him the attention that he wants. He figures he might as well play along and indulge you by answering your questions.
He relaxes his shoulders, shrugging nonchalantly at the question. He hums to himself, looking up towards the ceiling thoughtfully as his mind works through how exactly he wants to express his feelings to you. Suddenly, he looks at you and giggles.
“You really want to know how it felt to kill my mother? One word comes to mind to describe the whole experience, doc: energetic! I know what you just be thinking, hmmm, ‘what is energetic about something like this?’ Fear not, I’ll happily inform you doll. You just had to be there: the cooling atmosphere blanketed in death, her cries for help that mirrored my own as she used to beat me, the heady scent of her warm blood spilling with each time my blade met her flesh. It felt liberating to watch her take her final breaths right before my eyes. I guess what I’m getting at is that, although I am locked away for what I presume is a lifetime, I am actually finally free…free from that bitch that I sadly had to refer to as my mother…trust me, doll face, can I call you doll face…ah, what the hell I will anyhow *laughs before turning serious once more* I have no remorse for what I’ve done…I regret none of it, the only thing that saddens me is that I can’t experience the thrill of killing her all over again…given the opportunity, I would take it every damn time”
He finishes and stares at you expectantly awaiting your response.
You gulped. The way he described it was horrifying to say the least but you still scribbled it down.
You looked up and watched as the guard left for lunch duty. Which means you could ask more personal questions and not have to worry. You moved your chair so that it was right in front of his.
“Jerome you could have stayed with me… We would still be able to cuddle and night and kiss each other in the morning. Why couldn’t you just walk away?”
Your whole body posture changed. You seemed more relaxed and back to your normal self.
He instantly relaxed, taking notice of your change in demeanor. If Jerome is being honest, this is the first time he has been comfortable around Y/N since your little reunion. He really had to think about this question…he honestly had no idea what to tell you because he didn’t have an answer for himself. ‘Why couldn’t I just walk away? I wouldn’t be where I am now’ he thought to himself. The worst part isn’t where he ended up, because as Jerome always says, 'every choice has a consequence’, no, what bothers him the most is the loss of the one person that truly cares for him…all the time he spent here, could have easily been spent with his doll face if only he had just walked away.
He looks at you with sorrowful eyes.
“I don’t know why I couldn’t walk away…I had every intention of doing so, doll…please believe me! I went to talk to her, to tell her that I had planned to stay in Gotham, that I no longer wanted to travel with the circus…everything I could ever want was here…with you! But, you know how my nagging mother is, she JUST…KEPT…PUSHING! I went there with every intention of walking away and things escalated fairly quickly doll, if I do say so myself. One minute we’re screaming at each other, the next thing minute I push her to the ground…I barely touched the drunken Whore yet there she was crying in pain on the floor of the trailer! I’m not going to lie, it was mesmerizing seeing her like that…she looked like a helpless animal. It was in that moment that I finally realized, he life was in my hands…I was the one in control. One thing led to another and well, you know what happened next”
He makes quick stabbing motions with his hands and choking noises as he falls into a fit of hysterical giggles.
There was a look of sorrow in your eyes. This wasn’t the Jerome you knew… but you could tell he was still in there. You refused to give up on him. You slowly reached forward and grabbed one of his cuffed hands. You looked him directly in the eyes.
“And if you could go back….”
You had empathy in your eyes. You were the Y/N he knew. You weren’t the clueless Psychiatrist you were forced to pretend to be. You weren’t the scared girl from earlier. You weren’t the stranger from the beginning. No. You could be yourself. You were yourself.
You looked up at the clock to check the time and knew they didn’t have very much longer together. And you weren’t going to let it go to waste. You smashed your lips against his and kissed him more passionately than you ever had before. When you parted from his lips you leaned your forehead against his.
“What would you choose?”
His heart is pounding in his chest. He forgot just how soft your lips were against his. As your forehead rests against his, nothing else matters. The anguish your conversation has dissipated…in this moment, everything that he is familiar with when it comes you is coming back to him head on with sheer force. His senses are on fire as he steadily inhales that sweet smell he has missed for so long, a smell that is so uniquely YOU! He has become so distracted by you enveloping him in every sense of the word, that it slipped his mind that you asked him a question. He knows the answer to this question, no matter how you word it…no matter when the question is asked, the answer will always be the same.
“You…doll face, I would choose you! It would always be you”
The look of sadness overtakes his features as he pulls away from his lover.
“But, it’s too late for that…We can’t change what I have done…we can’t make it better.”
He leans into your touch, staring deeply into your soul, and with a faint whisper.
“No matter how bad we wish we could.”
You heaved a sad sigh.
“So I’m guessing that means no white picket fence and a big house and kids and no Barbecue on the weekends, huh?”
You giggled a little before frowning. You took both his hands in yours and twiddled with his fingers. You were starting to get lost in thought. Thought about how things would be and could be right now. But at this point it felt like a far away dream. Just out of reach.
“But hey at least I can see you whenever you 'need’ to see a phycologist . I had to fight to get the position as your personal phycologist. You seem to be a popular case around here.”
Jerome had become lost in thought himself at the mere mention of you wanting to have a family with him! The idea leaves a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach…there is a small part of him that wants the good old 'American dream’ as they say, but there’s no point in dwelling on that now.
It’s not until you mentioned how popular he is around here, that he draws away from his thoughts and back into the conversation! A grin wide enough to make the Cheshire Cat appear solemn spreads across his face.
“Oh doll, you have no idea! I’m not just popular with the shrinks *laughs* I pretty much run the place. Arkham has become my own little paradise! I’m a star and everyone knows it!”
His grin softens into a look of pure love and fascination.
“You being here is the only thing that could have really livened up this lackluster place, and I’ll be damned if dreams don’t come true.”
You go to say something when you hear a knock on the door.
You rolls your eyes and stand up and walk to it. You put on a fake smile and open the door.
“Yes can I help you.”
A guard looked down at you.
“Valeska needs to return to his cell.”
“Well we are just finishing up here so I’ll bring him to his cell when we are finished.”
The guard hesitated before nodding and moving along. You shut the door and sighed before turning back to Jerome.
“So, what now, doll?”
Jerome grinned mischievously
“How much time do we have before you have to send this big bad guy away?”
“Well I get off work at 11, it is 9:55 now. All therapists, consolers, and psychiatrists have to stop doing appointments at 10:15 for safety reasons so I’d say a good 20 minutes.”
You walked back and sat on your desk and sighed.
“25 counting how long it will take to get you back to your cell.”
You crossed your legs and folded your hands in your lap. While waiting for a response.
A beaming smile takes over his features.
“There’s a lot I could do in twenty minutes, doll.”
He leans in towards you and inhales deeply.
“What do you say, Y/N…wanna have some fun before I have to leave you?”
It feels as though the world has stopped as he patiently-maybe not as patiently as he thinks-awaits your response with bated breath.
“Thank god for sound proof office rooms.”
He walked to you quickly and started to make out with you roughly. You parted your lips a tiny bit and Jerome took this as an opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth. His tongue explored every inch before he parted panting heavily.
He dove towards your neck and immensely peppered it with kisses. As much as you loved foreplay you didn’t have time for it now.
“Jerome no hickies. They will see. Plus we don’t have time for foreplay. If someone walks in we are both screwed…. And not in the fun way.”
He let out and over dramatic sigh but quickly helped you get your skirt off. Your panties were soon to follow.
You quickly took his pants and boxers off. Both of you were in a rush at this point. Both were scared of getting caught.
He pushed you back farther onto your desk and spread your legs apart. He took his finger and circled it around your entrance a few times before shoving it into you. After a few pumps he added another finger.
He covered your mouth as a precaution to muffle your moans.
Your stomach was in a knot and right as you felt your high coming on he removed his fingers.
You whimpered from disappointment. He looked you in the eyes and peppered kisses all over your face. He lined himself up at your entrance and asked.
“Are you ready doll?”
You nodded and with one quick thrust he filled you up. Tears clung at the edges of your eyes but you ignored it. He gave you some time to adjust before he started thrusting.
You threw your head back and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your muffled moans only made him more turned on. He slammed into you harder and harder. Your stomach was in knots again and before you could say anything you came. A few more thrusts and he came too with a groan.
He kissed you on the lips gently and ran his fingers through your hair.
“I love you doll.”
“I love you too.”
You put your panties and skirt back on and fixed your hair.
“We should probably get you to your cell before people start to get curious.”
He smirks as he kisses you again, trying to level his breathing. He pulled up his boxers and his pants and looked at you.
“Whatever you say, doll face! Feel free to take me away!”
He laughs maniacally as he holds his arms out for you to take.
As you are closing his door, he turns and grabs your wrist to stop you. He looks into your eyes with his own pleading orbs.
“Hey, this isn’t the last time I’ll see you is it, because I really have missed you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, wondering if you hate me or not. I know that you had no idea where I went and what happened, you must have thought I abandoned you. *quick laugh* But, if I lose you again, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it. I love you!”
He brings your hand up to his lips and softly places a kiss before smiling at you.
You kissed him on the lips and holds his hands. You look up into his eyes.
“My dad wouldn’t tell me where you were and I thought you had gone with your mom and left me. I cried for so long and I was heart broken. Jerome I’m in love with you and I swear I will never leave you. Hell Im your personal psychiatrist.”
You laughed and kissed him again and hugged him tightly.
“I will always be here when you need me. Just start throwing a tantrum and I’ll be right there!”
He can’t help the thought of marrying you crossing his mind briefly.
“A tantrum huh, oh doll, you know me…I’ve got that covered! I’ll be throwing so many tantrums, you won’t know what to do with yourself!”
You laughed and kissed his forehead.
“One day I’ll get you out of here. We can leave Gotham and get married and have a family and play competitive Uno on family game night.”
You laughed and smiled.
A voice sounded over the speaker.
“Y/N Gordon, you are need immediately back at your office for a patient Emergency. Please come immediately.”
You sighed ,“ it must be Blake.”
You gave Jerome a kiss on the cheek before turning to leave.
“I’ll see you around, doll face!”
He hated to see you go, but he knew he would see you again soon.
“He hated that I made more money than he did. Hated it. Every time someone asked me about being a doctor he would interject some embarrassing tidbit or take a crack at me. People would laugh and the moment would be over.”
They were sitting on a park bench near Scotland Yard in Westminster Gardens. Claire had told him to leave after her admission that her visions always came to pass. He’d angered her. “I’m not him, Claire,” was all he could say. She’d deflated then. Pointed to a straight backed chair in the corner of the morgue, silently telling him to sit.
So he sat. Dossier on his lap. Waiting.
And when she was finished she grabbed her things, and left. He trailed behind her like some love sick puppy, until they found themselves in this place. It was a cool evening, and the sun was setting. She’d stopped at a food truck, not bothering to ask him first for his preference, and bought them falafels.
She hadn’t stopped talking since they sat down, her food going cold in her hands. Like a great dam had broken open. Her words flowed endlessly, each one a drop that formed a pool around her. He could feel the depth of her drowning, what continued to drown her.
“We were a novelty. A couple of Brits living in Boston. ‘Tally-ho!’ 'God bless the Queen’, and all that.” The sarcasm, thick. The tone, derisive.
“Then, there were the students. Young. Gorgeous. Flirty. Drawn in by his accent.“ The drops, hot now. Scalding. The pain, obvious. Deep.
She looked up into the sky and laughed, incredulous. “He was a fucking history professor for God’s sake! They threw themselves at him. And he caught them.” She shook her head. “Bastard. I won’t go there again. I won’t be ridiculed or made to feel less than. I’m a Doctor for fuck’s sake, and a history professor made me feel stupid.”
Jamie ate silently. What a wanker! He had a woman like Claire, and he let her go? Any fool could see she was perfect. Beautiful. Passionate. Intelligent. He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that her husband could not see the vixen he had in his bed. Claire Randall was the whole package. She was a rare woman.
Perhaps it was her gift that Frank struggled with.
“So no, James. There won’t be an ‘us’. A ‘we’. An anything. There’s just me. Alone. The way I like it.”
Jamie swallowed, and took a drink from his bottle of water. Claire took a bite, finally.
“He was a fuckin’ scrote.”
Claire choked. “A what?”
Jamie loved how she spoke in her posh British accent. It always sounded like she said, ‘wot?’
“Basically, a scrotum. An Idiot.”
Jamie wiped his mouth and hands with his napkin. He balled up his wrapper, and looked at Claire. His spoke sincerely, honestly. “He was a fool not to realize what he had in ye, Claire. A blind fool.”
Claire dropped her head. She took a small bite, not daring to read too much into his compliments. Or his tone.
It was dark now. Cold. Claire liked the dark. She dwelt there in her mind, in her soul, every day since she first learned of Frank’s infidelities. Every day since she realized she wasn’t enough. That in the game of love, she was like the square on the Monopoly board that no one wanted because it didn’t collect enough rent, and never would, even with houses and hotels.
Perhaps that was why she did what she did. Why she chose that dark, cold path at the end.
“Not every man makes that mistake. Some men would actually die to be with a woman such as yerself. Intelligent. Funny. Interesting. Gorgeous.” He spoke low out of the side of his mouth, “Wi’ a fantastic arse.”
Claire snorted, and Jamie bumped her shoulder with his.
“So,” Having made his point Jamie moved to safer territory. He could tell she was becoming uncomfortable with his compliments. “The stomach contents. From the same eatery, no?”
“Yes,” Claire said. He had created the lightest fracture in her soul. How had he managed? Why were her visions so jarring with his slightest touch? So raw? So passionate around this man? She would not pretend to have some vast knowledge of men, but she knew enough to know this feeling was unusual. Different.
Could she trust him?
“I don’t know where it is.” She took a deep breath. “But I would know it, if I saw it.”
Jamie nodded, lips pursed. He dug a small caramel coloured book out of his pocket. “Can ye tell me more? Where do I start, Claire? Can ye describe the place at all for me?”
Claire was struck dumb for a moment. She stared at him as he waited. Pencil poised. Ready to listen. Ready to believe.
“You don’t think I’m crazy? You really believe me?”
“I believe ye, Claire.” He chuckled. “I dinna understand it a bit. Not yet. But I trust ye. I trust yer word. Trust that we’ve created a truth between us. Whatever ye tell me, I will believe ye.” Jamie spoke sincerely, his eyes not wavering from hers.
“Besides. I’m Scottish, ken. Faeries in a glen, and all that.”
His heart stopped at the smile that graced her face. An eclipse over this moonless night. Suddenly bright, without warning.
The words came pouring out. Her gift, loosened. A bird free from its cage. She almost wept with the relief of it all.
“It’s bright. Lots of glass. Windows. And cases. Glass cases where you can pick the ingredients you want. Small. Small, round tables. And the floor is blue. It’s…it’s cobalt blue. I’m sure of that.”
Jamie was writing furiously. “Any idea of the neighbourhood? Any landmarks ye see near it?”
Claire shook her head. “Sorry. No.”
“It’s fine. This is good. I’ll get started in the morning.” Jamie tucked his notes away. He stood up, and stretched out his hand for hers. When she hesitated, he dropped it and gathered up her things instead.
She stood. “I’m sorry, Jamie.”
He shrugged. “Nothing to be sorry for. Come. I’ll take ye home.”
“No, I can-”
“Claire.” Jamie stepped in front of her. “I’ll see ye safe. That’s what friends do.” He watched her visibly relax.
“But -” She tensed again. “Ye dinna have to be psychic to understand that I want you. More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”
Omg that story of Betty dressing differently and Juggie being 'distracted' is amazing. I loved how he was protecting her while being completely turn on. Do you think you can continue it? It was really good.
Okay here it is guys, thank you so much for reading my work.
Jughead was stuck to Betty’s side like glue, not that she minded, she appreciated his concern and thought it was adorable when he would shoot warning glares at her interested peers.
Sitting down at the lunch table with the group, jughead made sure he was directly across from her, scanning the Area for any potential threats.
Okay not so much threats, more like football players, basketball players, soccer players, and the occasional band geek, who thought it was a good idea to stare at the beautiful blonde as she walked down the halls.
“Very Britney Spears, Circa “hit me baby one more time” I’m obsessed with this look B.“ Veronica admired from her seat beside Betty.
"You should totally wear your hair down more, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this.”
Even Cheryl smiled appreciatively
“ it’s totally cliche, good girl gone bad, but it somehow works for you.”
Jughead rolled his eyes, grumpily taking a bite of his sandwich, casting his eyes over to Archie he felt his shoulders tense
He was staring, practically drooling, not saying a word.
Betty wiggled a little under his gaze, obviously uncomfortable.
“Put your tongue back into your mouth boy.”
Archie immediately snapped his mouth shut, shaking his head to clear, the obviously inappropriate, thoughts he was having.
“Uh yeah, sorry, no it’s just, you look really great Betty, like really great.” He rambled, shooting her his all American charming smile.
Jughead cut him off
“Betty always looks great.”
All eyes snapped to him at the table.
Looking down quickly he mumbled
“I just mean, a short skirt and some high shoes, don’t make her look all that different.”
Betty blushed, smiling and reaching for her apple.
Kevin, Veronica and Cheryl shared a smile.
Half way through lunch, Jughead had caught Archie staring at Betty so much he thought he was gonna have to punch his best friend in the face.
To his right Cheryl, cheryl gasped
“Oh my god Betty you have got to try this tiramisu my nanny made, it’s heaven.”
Betty reached over dipping her spoon in the dessert, bringing it up to her mouth.
Jugheads eyes followed that spoon the whole way.
Betty’s eyes lit up and she moaned appreciatively
“Your right Cheryl, this is heaven.” She said popping the spoon back in her mouth and sucking the rest off.
Archie was practically peeing his pants and panting.
Suddenly before he even realized what he was doing, Jughead had swatted the plastic spoon from Betty’s mouth and it was now laying on the dirt.
Her eyes were wide and surprised, while Kevin and Veronica cracked up, tears spilling down Kevin’s face.
“Sorry there was …. a bug.” He shrugged, rubbing his neck before going back to his meal.
Fortunately for him, lunch ended shortly after, as he walked Betty to class, she turned to him.
“Okay so I’m putting my plan in action after this period, I’ll be in the locker room with all of Jason’s buddies, I’ll see you then, and remember don’t come out unless it really looks sketchy.”
He nodded rolling his eyes, lingering on her legs as she walked into the classroom.
Shaking his head and quickly looking away, he was such a perv.
Standing behind the lockers, his fists clenched he knew it was not gonna be easy to stay back here.
The whistling and cat calling weren’t so bad, but when moose mason reached out and smacked Betty’s butt, he thought he was gonna lose it.
Of course Betty fixed him with her very best “touch me again and I’ll rip your face off, glare” but that didn’t really do anything to ease his nerves.
She was currently talking to Chuck Clayton
His very own personal tormentor.
“Why do you wanna know about Jason, gorgeous? Why don’t you take interest in someone who’s very much… alive?” He smirked
He could see Betty trying not to cringe as she nodded slowly
“ of course, i’m just curious, it was all so sudden.” She put on her very best pouty face, the one that got Jughead every time.
Chuck seemed to ease back a little bit, taking a defensive stance
“Blossom was a loser, the only thing he was good for was winning us games, he had no balls, he was a pansy.” Clearly Chuck was pissed but he quickly shook himself out of it.
“Not like me baby, I can show you just how many balls I have.” He reached for Betty pulling her into him as she wiggled to get free
“Chuck, this isn’t why I came here.”
Chuck ran a hand down her back
“Oh baby we all know why you came here, you want a ride on the chuck wagon ” his mouth went for hers and jughead finally had enough.
He emerged from behind the lockers
Chuck pulled away from Betty
“ what are you doing here Donnie Darko? Came to catch the guys changing?”
Jughead shook his head moving to stand in front of Chuck , pushing Betty behind him
“She said no, leave her alone.”
Now Chuck was pissed, laughing angrily he shoved Jughead back
“What’s up? You’ve got a thing for blonde whores? I should’ve given you a go at Polly, maybe then you wouldn’t be such a freak.”
Jughead was on top of Chuck in seconds flat, the two of them beating on and punching each other as Betty screamed for help.
Coach Clayton came running in as soon as he heard the feminine screams.
“What the hell! Enough! get off of each other!”
Chuck looked up at his father and quickly dropped Jughead, chucks nose bleeding and his cheek swelling, Jughead was nursing a pretty nasty shiner as well.
Coach grabbed Chuck by the back of his shirt hauling him into the wall, he turned to jughead.
“I won’t go to weatherby about this as long as it never happens again. Are we clear?”
Jughead rolled his eyes, Betty clinging to his arm. Clearly coach Clayton didn’t want his Own son to get in any trouble.
“Crystal” Jughead ground out as Betty pulled him away and back into their office.
After about three minutes of silence and Betty holding the ice pack to his face, she spoke up.
“Thank you juggie, you didn’t have to do that, I would’ve been fine.” She spoke softly
“I would do anything for you Betty.” He responded, his face inches away from hers.
“Jughead” she whispered staring into his eyes
“Betty” he whispered back.
Suddenly he was clutching the back of her head and her hands were buried in his hair, his beanie flying off, there lips moving against one another’s.
It felt like home.
Pulling away Betty giggled
“ your eye!”
He smiled goofily
“ what eye?”
She laughed and he went to follow, but quickly realized, yeah his eye actually did hurt. Really bad.
Betty smiled, noticing his wince and placing the ice pack back on his eye
“Betty” he said questioningly
“Hmm?” she hummed
“Can you maybe go back to wearing sweaters”
She laughed so loud he was certain they could hear her all the way at pops.
Warnings: not really, Liz is a lesbian?, I don’t think I gendered the reader?
In terms of ‘soft-boys’, Peter
Parker was the softest boy you knew. He was the type who blushed at any motion
of affection, or compliment you gave him. Peter’s sweater game was far better
than a sitcom character’s, plus he looked better in them too. The kid was
smart, and a bit of a rambler, and totally, absolutely, completely your type.
~LOTS of it too
~Shawn being the big spoon most of the time because he is just so tall
~him laying his head on your lap after a long day and you running your fingers through his soft hair, while humming some random tune
~Shawn eventually falling asleep in your lap.
~having so many inside jokes it’s insane
~you and Shawn just looking at each other before laughing and everyone around you are just staring at you guys like you’re crazy
~Shawn laughing at your jokes even though they are so cringe
~“Why did the stadium get hot after the game?”
~Shawn playfully rolls his eyes because he knows it’s going to be bad. “Why babe?”
~“Because all the fans left,” you answer while laughing
~Shawn laughing as well because you’re literally so adorable and he lowkey likes your jokes.
~fancy date nights
~but also really chill dates where you guys just order pizza and watch a movie while cuddling
~Shawn literally being an additional member to your family because your family just loves him
~the same with you and Shawn’s family
~still fangirling when you see a new photo
~“YOU ARE LITERALLY SUCH A GORGEOUS HUMAN BEING”
~Shawn becoming tomato red when he sees your comment on the Instagram photo.
~doing little sweet things for each other
~like buying the other food when they haven’t eaten
~or surprising each other with their favorite order from Starbucks
~“I’m so proud of you.”
~taking Shawn’s flannels or hoodies before he goes on tour because they smell like him and it reminds you of home
~Because Shawn is your home
Heyy guys! There will be a part two coming tomorrow because I didn’t want this to be longer then it already is. I hope you guys enjoyed this.
Summary: Tom is captain of the football team, and you take great notes. (This is fluff involving homecoming and highschool!Tom I think you’ll like it!!)
There was a boy in your science class. Actually, there were multiple boys in your science class, but only one really caught your eye. He sat in front of you.
Every day, you came into class, scribbled down notes in your planner and notebook furiously, and left with homework that you did your best on but rarely understood completely.
Unlike the boy in front of you, who’s hands never moved during the class except for when he moved his phone to his lap below his desk, when he did this you’d hear faint tapping noises and resisted the urge to ask the boy why he never felt the need to take notes or even pay attention to the class.
You knew it was none of your business, he probably didn’t even know you existed. You seemed to notice him everywhere, though: in the hallways, the lunchroom, the football games in which he’d always play and in the school’s parking lot where you often saw him laughing with friends or talking to some girl who was leaned against his car, touching his chest casually or laughing at something he said that you couldn’t hear.
You knew you had no right to be jealous, you’d never even talked to him, you were too nervous. Besides, you told yourself, you were too busy taking notes and listening to the teacher who droned bell to bell during the hour in which you had the class every day.
Then came test day, you were one of the first to get done, as always, and to your surprise, upon walking back to your seat and passing the boys desk in front of yours, you noticed he was also finished with the test.
“Well I definitely failed that,” you said quietly as you passed his desk, just loud enough so that he could hear you.
You sat down, surprised when the boy turned around to face you.
“Oh please, you think you failed?”
You nodded slightly, your heart banging in your chest at the fact that your crush had turned around to talk to you.
You tried to calm yourself by reminding your brain that the conversation most likely meant absolutely nothing to him.
“You didn’t fail, I bet you could probably teach this class, with all ‘f the notes you take,” he teased before adding: “you’d probably be a better teacher than what’s-his-name up there who just rambles in that monotone voice all day,” he grinned and you did the same.
You shook your head again, shifting in your seat.
“No, I’m nowhere near that good, this is my weak subject, that’s why I take so many notes,” you confessed, looking down at your hands out of nerves for a second before lifting your head to meet his eyes again.
He rolled his eyes, the grin you’d come to know so well remaining on his face.
“Well, I’m sure no matter how you did, you did a hell of a lot better than me, I left half of it blank,” Tom revealed and your eyebrows raised.
“I have no clue what’s goin’ on in this class, haven’t since like, the first day,” he laughed a bit. “I just have to keep passing long enough to keep doing football,“
Before you could think to stop yourself, you heard the words "maybe it’d be easier if you took notes?” Slipping from your mouth. Your face heated and before you could try and take back the words that you realized probably sounded condescending, Tom was nodding.
“You’re right, I wish I took good notes like you did, maybe then I’d have an A too,” he mused. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly.
“How do you know my grade?” You inquired, a smile still on your face to water-down the directness of your question.
“Heard you mention it in line once, wow that’s so creepy, sorry, I swear ’m not stalking ya, or anything,” he said, a hand coming up to massage the back of his neck nervously as he exhaled.
You grinned, trying to hide the fact that you were enthralled Tom had noticed you even in the slightest.
“I could show you my notes? They’re kind of weirdly formatted so I could break them down for you if you’d like?”&am; You offered, opening your notebook and flipping it open and rotating it so Tom could glance at the notes you’d taken, erasers= marks and doodles marring the page along with your more intentional notations.
“Would you? My parents are so mad at my grade in here,” Tom confessed, his muscles relaxing as he twisted to rest his elbows on your desk. Head bowing to scam through your notes quickly.
“I don’t want you to think I’m just taking advantage of you for your work, ya don’t ‘ave to do this for me at all,” Tom spoke sincerely, looking into your eyes.
“No, it’s no problem, here you can just take my notes and text me if you have questions?” You asked, not thinking that this would require the two of you exchanging phone numbers until after the words left your mouth. Before you could reassure him that you didn’t require his number, Tom had already pulled his phone from his pocket and was tapping around to reach the contacts spot, handing it to you freely with a grin. “Here, I’ll text you so you get my number,”&he suggested, handing you his phone with the screen already up for you to fill in your information. You put your name as ‘YN with the notes’,& and Tom smiled, you handed the phone back and your heart nearly split with joy when your hands touched.
And that was how you and Tom started talking. Talking became casual study dates, which became dates without studying, which eventually became Tom, nervously laundering his football jersey on a Sunday night, wanting it to smell good when he attempted to give it to you to wear at the next football game.
As captain of the team, it was expected that he would give his jersey to somebody for the homecoming game, but nobody seemed to know who, you and Tom had kept your new relationship on the low down and neither of you minded this in the slightest.
He set his jersey in the dryer after pulling it out of the washing machine, sitting on top of the appliance to check if you had texted him.
Unfortunately, you hadn’t. Tom didn’t worry, he knew how busy you were studying tonight, as you had multiple tests coming up in the coming week.
He sent a quick text that read: “take care of yourself! Don’t work too hard, smarty pants xx”
He checked his other notifications, multiple texts from his fellow members of the football team sat in his inbox.
Most inquired who he was asking to wear his jersey and if he was going to the homecoming dance, and if so who with.
He explained to them that he would be asking you to wear his jersey and based on that he would decide whether or not you’d like to be his date for homecoming.
He received a plethora of supportive texts and he couldn’t help but smile at the support of his team in his efforts to become yours.
Monday rolled around and you were the first face tom saw, he was running a bit late that morning. He’d stayed up late brainstorming the best possible way to ask you to homecoming the night before, and now had a section in the back of his notebook with bullet-point ideas.
Nothing seemed good enough for you. It wasn’t that you were hard to impress, or that he was particularly nervous that you would reject him, it was just that he wanted to make it as good as he felt you deserved, and better. The only problem, was that you deserved the best of the best, and Tom felt sorely incapable of providing that.
He brought it up to his team members, and they managed to offer a few suggestions. Most, were completely unusable, but some were deemed worthy of tom to be written in the bullet point list of ideas.
After practice, his team members encouraged him to ask you sooner than later to wear the jersey, but that none of them would get in his way so he had no competition for you. He was grateful, but that didn’t stop the tornado of butterflies in his gut.
He then sought you out, finding you right where he’d expected, at your locker, transferring books in and out from your backpack, headphones in your ears and your head nodding slightly along to what Tom imagined was the beat of the song.
“Hey, babe,” he spoke softly, trying not to startle you. His hand moved to sit on your back and you knew it was him before you even looked up. You smiled, happy to see him. You’d heard the buzz around school that the team would be giving out their jerseys.
The problem was that you and Tom hadn’t made anything official yet, so you weren’t quite sure what to expect. All you knew is the thought of Tom handing you his jersey made you feel as though you’d melt. In a positive way, of course.
The jersey was in his backpack. All he had to do was pull it out and hand it to you.
So why was Tom nearly sweating?
It was just you. Wonderful, gorgeous, genius, funny, sweet and amazing you. Tom concluded that was probably why his hands were clammy and nearly shaking with nerves.
He tried to convert his nerves into excited energy, as his coach had told him to do before games time and time again, and yet, it was Wednesday before Tom finally got up the nerve to hand you the jersey.
“Is this why you’ve been so weird all week?” You asked, taking the jersey into your hands gently. Tom blushed. “Was it that obvious?”
“Tom, you could barely make eye contact, and your voice was like ten octaves higher than usual,” YN teased and Tom rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he spoke teasingly.
“Ooh, that’s not the way I would talk to somebody who you’re trying to convince to wear your jersey,” you joked. Tom opened his mouth but before he could speak the warning bell rang, signaling you had a minuet to get to your next class.
“Don’t worry, team captain,” you smiled, closing your locker and keeping the jersey in your hands. You kissed his cheek and kept your head by his ear to say: “you don’t have to do any convincing.”
And with that you were walking down the hall, and Tom felt such a storm of excitement that he didn’t know what to do with the energy that surged through every fiber of his being.
Your friends freaked out when you showed them the jersey. You had the football team captain’s jersey.
You assured them that Tom was nobody to get so excited about but your smile continued to stretch from ear to ear when you thought of the jersey that you’d tucked away in your bag.
It smelled like a mix of Tom and the detergent aisle of a supermarket, and you didn’t mind in the slightest.
It wasn’t until you were at the game in the row behind the front line of bleachers and receiving looks from others wearing team members jerseys that it really sank in.
Tom had picked you to wear his jersey. He’s picked you to be connected to him in front of everyone. You couldn’t help but blossom at the thought of him wanting to show you off.
You couldn’t bring yourself to be the least bit surprised when your team won, Tom carried the team to a swift victory, scoring three touchdowns throughout the game. The stands went wild, everyone excited about the win.
The best part of the evening, however, was when the entire football team picked up a sign and began shuffling around, Tom directing them to stand at certain places, the signs turned backwards so nobody could tell what was written on them. Before you could even comprehend what was happening, Tom walked to the stands, still on the field, head tilted up to scan the crowd for you. You were shoved forwards by the crowd when he called your name, getting a few whistles and cheers. You felt your face get hot at the attention, and you were shocked by how quickly the stands grew quiet once Tom requested it.
“Alright, thanks guys,” he smiled at the crowd, which briefly cheered as if to say as a group: “get on with it”.
Now, Tom bent down and grabbed a football, hugging it close to his chest with one hand, and holding your hand in the other.
“So, YN,” he spoke, and as he did the football team members all revealed their signs, spelling out the words “YN, it would be a real ‘win’ if you went with Tom to…”
You looked down at Tom to see he was holding a football that had the word “homecoming?” on it. Black paint smeared in stripes across his cheeks for the game that had just ended.
“So will you?” He inquired quietly, losing the football out to you. You were quiet, observing the scene before you and hoping you’d remember it forever.
You found yourself nodding your head rapidly without even having to think about it. With that, Tom punched his closed fist into the air excitedly, the crowd performing a standing ovation with loud cheering as Tom hugged you, climbing up into the stands to be on your level.
He hugged you close, spinning you around before setting you gently on your feet again. He cupped your fave and you both leaned in, sharing a quick kiss before the crowd, which was now going berserk.
“I’m so glad you said yes,” Tom admitted, as the two of you walked out of the stadium after the majority of the crowd had cleared from the parking lot. “Me too,” you grinned, Tom’s arm wrapped around you.
“I mean it’s good to know you aren’t just using me for my notes,” you teased, as if his feelings hadn’t become completely transparent over the last few weeks.
“YN I have something to tell you,” He stopped dead in his tracks. “Now don’t laugh,” he warned, you becoming more concerned with his sudden seriousness, comforted by the smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth.
“I might’ve stopped taking notes so I had a reason to talk to you,” he admitted quietly, your jaw dropped and eyebrows raised, eyes widening.
“I’ve had a crush on you, and look, it worked! We’re going to the dance together!” Tom laughed from his stomach, cheeks turning pink.
You couldn’t hold back your laughter at his confession as the two of you continued toward his familiar car. “I can’t believe you-”
”Oh, hush, come on, already YN! I’m going to beat you to the Dutchman!”
Tom broke into a run towards his car, referring to it by the name only he called it by. You rolled your eyes but found yourself trailing behind him to his car, laughing all the way.