#I bet you the next one he still won’t get banged | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

drabblesandimagines · 1 year ago

Note

400 request! Leon x female reader. How they meet or first impressions.

(Also omg I’m so happy you write about resident evil too!)

Thank you, anon! I'm happy I write about Resident Evil too x Travel Pillow Leon Kennedy x female reader, fluff

Looking at the rain smacking against the tarmac through the plane window, you’re not convinced you will be taking off any time soon, despite the airline’s confidence when they’d opened the boarding gate 20 minutes ago. The last of the passengers are finding their seats in the small plane, only two seats either side of the aisle. You feel a knee bash against your thigh and you turn, seeing a handsome man with light brown hair framing bright blue eyes, jeans with a white tee and a semi-smart black jacket stood over the empty seat, looking apologetic.

“Sorry.” He rubs the back of his head, scolding himself for a bad first impression on the pretty girl he is going to be sitting next to for the next three hours. “I swear they make the leg room on these tin cans smaller and smaller every time.”

“No harm done. And, yeah, I agree - trying to get you to splurge for the emergency exit.”

“Mm, and my work won’t cover that expense.” He tugs off his jacket before he sits down, banging his knee against the upturned tray table on the seat in front and winces. “Yep, should’ve got some knee pads.”

You laugh at that and he smiles, sensing it’s genuine in nature. Makes a change.

“Name’s Leon.” He offers you his hand and you take it, giving it a shake and offering your name in return.

“Take it you’re traveling for business, then?” You probe – he’s easy on the eyes and much more interesting to look at than the rain out the window.

“Was.” He leans back, buckling up his seatbelt. “On the way home now. You?”

“Moving - starting a new job on Monday.”

“Oh, wow. Moving via plane?”

You shake your head. “Got a guy driving my stuff over in a few days. Only got the job offer Wednesday.”

“Huh,” Leon mulls. “They sound pretty keen for you.”

“Yeah, well-”

The PA system pings, interrupting you. There’s a crackle of static before a voice rings out. “Good evening, this is your captain speaking. I’m afraid we have a storm warning rolling in and, currently, we are unable to take off. As we are still at the gate and it will be a little while before we can depart, we are going to ask you to disembark.” Groans ring around the plane. “Please be sure to take all your hand luggage with you and be sure to pick up your complimentary drinks voucher from the cabin crew.”

“Bets on it excluding alcohol?” Leon asks, unbuckling his seat belt and getting to his feet as your fellow passengers follow suit - grumbling about the delay, grabbing their bags. “Got anything in the overhead?”

“Yeah.” You get to your feet, having to hunch over a little as the side of the plane slopes. “Black duffel bag.”

“I got it.”

“What a gentleman.” You smile, watching as he raises his arms above his head to reach for your bag, your eyes lingering on the way his biceps tense.

“I may have an ulterior motive.” He smirks, pulling the bag down and hanging it off his shoulder with ease. You hadn’t been exactly subtle while you had admired his arms.

“Oh?”

“Hoping you might partake in a non-complimentary drink with me.”

“I think I can manage that.”

“So, what do you do?”

You’d grabbed a cosy table for two in the corner of the airport bar, a clear view of the departures board in sight in case any news came through about your delayed flight. The complimentary drinks voucher had excluded alcohol, so you had ended up with two drinks in front of you – a soda from the airline that you’d quickly polished off, and one from your handsome seat-mate that you made sure to take your time over.

“Me?” Leon shrugs a shoulder. “I work for the government – just boring bureaucratic nonsense, wrapped up in a lot of red tape. How about you?”

“Software.”

“Guess you’re pretty skilled to be in such high demand.”

“Something like that. Just a niche area. Money was too good to say no.” It wasn’t strictly a lie. “And, if I can be so bold, no-one to leave behind?”

“Bingo.”

“Well, I feel that. No-one for me to return home to. Work keeps me too busy – can be away a few days to a few months.”

“Ah, so you don’t always flirt with women you meet on planes?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “This is just an elaborate apology for bashing your knee earlier.” “Gotcha.” You take another sip of your drink. “So, how long have you lived in DC?”

“A few years now, on and off.”

“Good, then you can tell me all of the bad coffee shops and tourist traps I need to avoid.”

Leon shakes his head, grinning all the while. “I can’t hand over that information, you’ve gotta work your way through sucky cups of coffee like every other fine resident that came before you.”

“Please?” You pout, tilting your head and he’s so tempted to give in with how adorable you look.

“Cute, but no. You’ll understand one day.”

“Not even a clue?”

“Uh-uh, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yeah,” he lifts his glass to his lips, trying to hide his smile. “I’m not.”

“Is there anything you can tell me about DC, then?”

He ponders for a moment. “They really like brunch.”

“Maybe…” you rest your hand on the table, wondering if you could reach out and touch his, “..you could take me for br-“

“Passengers for delayed flight AA4628 are asked to head towards gate 34 to commence boarding.” The PA system announces from above your heads. “That’s passengers for delayed flight AA4628 are asked to head towards gate 34 to commence boarding. Thank you.”

“Guess we better head back.” Leon downs his drink and gets to his feet, heaving your bag back over his shoulder.

“Mm,” you agree, downing the rest of your own and your question, and following him back to the gate.

The drink must’ve gone more to your head than you thought, especially after a frantic few days of packing, late nights from trying to get everything in order before you moved across the country because you don’t remember the plane even taking off. You wake up to your ears popping as the plane begins its descent and slowly open your eyes, wondering why the seat in front of you is at an angle. It’s then you realise you’re not upright in your own seat, instead cuddling up into someone’s chest, almost nuzzling your cheek into them, an arm draped around your shoulders.

You shoot up, the arm sliding off and you see Leon besides you, smiling sleepily, “Hey, sleepyhead.”

“I am so sorry.” You can feel your cheeks burn as you worry if you drooled, or snored or…

“What, for using me as a pillow?” He chuckles. “It’s fine. For the record, I fell asleep too so it was mutually beneficial.”

“Oh. Good.” You nod, settling back into an awkward silence as the plane continues its descent towards the tarmac and you turn your attention to the window, looking down at the place you’ll be calling home for however long.

As the plane lands and begins taxiing to the gate you wonder if you should ask Leon for his number, or give him your own. It would be nice to know someone in DC, after all. You pull your phone out your pocket, about to ask when an air stewardess appears at Leon’s side, whispers in his ear and he smiles, nods in thanks and unbuckles his seatbelt to stand, before he hesitates and turns to look at you, noting your look of confusion.

“Seems work’s been waiting for me since our delay. My boss has pulled some strings to get me off the flight first, so…” He swallows, disappointed - though he knows he shouldn’t be. He knew from the moment you started talking, despite the feeling in his stomach, that it was fantasy where he could pretend that after you’d arrived in DC, the two of you could exchange numbers and he’d take you out for the good coffee, brunch and dinner, buy you flowers, kiss you under the streetlights…

Idiot, he reprimands himself. You’re a sweet girl, too sweet for the world he’s involved in.

“It was nice to meet you.” He smiles. “Good luck with the new job.”

“Oh.” You can’t hide your disappointment as he finally stands, the air stewardess waiting to lead him back up the aisle. “Thanks. Nice to meet you too, Leon.”

He nods, once, and you watch him walk away.

You hesitate outside your new work, the building looming over you. You still don’t know how to feel about this, but how can you reject a job offer from the President of the United States? You bin the cup of coffee you’d bought from a cart in the park on the way here – mistake, curse Leon for not giving you any heads up – and walk inside, navigating through security and reception, before being told to head up to floor three where an Ingrid Hunnigan is waiting to brief you, standing by the elevator doors. She’s a smartly dressed woman, curly hair tied up in a bun and studious glasses, though she greets you with a smile and a handshake.

“Welcome to the DSO. Glad to have you – I’ve been admiring your work over the weekend.”

“Oh, thank you. I’m… It’s good to be here.” You correct.

Hunnigan doesn’t press, instead gesturing you forward. “Sorry, I promise we’ll do a whistlestop tour another time, but you’re going to be hitting the ground running this morning – we have an intel briefing at 0915.”

“We?”

“Mm – me, you and Agent Kennedy.”

You’re led to a small meeting room and told to take a seat, but Hunnigan remains standing by the door.

“Coffee? Since I haven’t had chance to give you the tour, it’s the least I could do.”

“Oh, yeah. Thank you.” You reply, taking a seat.

“Be right back.”

You fiddle with the hem of your shirt, looking around at the room – not that there’s much to take in, it’s a small, circular table with six chairs around it, a projector hanging from the ceiling and some adaptor cables poking out the middle for someone to connect a laptop.

The door opens a couple of moments later and you turn your head, eyes widening at the figure who enters.

Leon looks equally surprised for a moment before a smirk crosses his lips and he strides in, taking the seat opposite. He leans back in his chair, crosses his arms and quirks an eyebrow.

“Software, huh?”

You wake up to your ears popping as the plane begins its descent, your face resting on Leon’s chest, his arm wrapped around your shoulders and head resting atop your own – an all too familiar routine when you travel together by plane. You nuzzle your cheek into his warmth, feeling too content to open your eyes just yet when you feel him move and place a kiss upon your crown.

“Afraid it’s time to wake up, sweetheart”

“Mm, five more minutes. We can’t be landing already, we only just left the gate.” You protest.

His chuckle vibrates through your cheek. “You were out like a light before we even took off. I’m beginning to worry you only keep me around as your personal travel pillow.”

Sighing, you sit upright, trying to rub the crick out of your neck. “That, among other reasons.”

“What other reasons?”

“Hmm,” you pretend to muse, cupping his face in your palm and press a soft kiss to his lips before pressing your forehead against his. “Cos I love you.”

“Love you more.”

-- Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day! x Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff

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xiaq · 2 years ago

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AO3 Pt. 1 Pt. 2

Pt. 3 I combined the prompts: Outsider POV, Steve Harrington is an Idiot (affectionate), Everyone is Queer Because I Said So, and @c0olness's hyper-specific Wayne's Boyfriend Owns a Gay Bar in Indianapolis and Introduces Steve to a Drag Queen. :)

Angel Reyes has loved Wayne Munson about as long as he’s loved himself. The timing is not coincidental.

Which is why he’s willing to wait for him, even when Angel’s patience is worn thin like the shirt he stole from Wayne three years ago and wears like a prayer to bed.

Some nights, when Wayne calls at the end of his shift and Angel is wiping down his own bar at closing, he’s tempted to say: we might not have much time left—shouldn’t we spend what we do have together?

But he doesn’t.

Because he already knows the answer.

Because the same reason he fell in love with Wayne is the reason Wayne won’t move to Indy. The man is loyal to a fault and when he gives himself to people he gives all of himself and there’s no force in the world that would convince Wayne to leave Hawkins if he thought Eddie still needed him there. Because Wayne loves Angel. But Wayne loved Eddie first. And Angel can hardly begrudge him of that.

So he repeats a well-worn mantra, only slightly comforting: not today, but someday. And he hangs up the phone and he checks the calendar and he looks forward to the time he is allowed. If there’s one thing he learned over the years, it’s that he can’t get greedy when he already has a good thing.

Wayne is worth the quiet agony of patience.

So when he’s locking up for the night and the phone rings, he expects the conversation to take a familiar path.

“Evening, handsome,” he says, canting his hip against the counter. “You tell him yet?”

It’s been his standard greeting for close to a year. Why the man won’t just tell his gay nephew that he is, conveniently, also gay, is beyond Angel. But then, listening has always been Wayne’s strong suit. Talking, not so much.

“Well,” Wayne says. And that’s new.

“Well?”

“I did, actually. After I walked in on him and Steve kissin’ last night—“

“Finally!” Angel crows. The saga of Eddie and Steve and their will-they-won’t-they relationship had quickly surpassed even his favorite telenovela’s dramatic storylines. The pretty jock with hidden depths and the nerdy metalhead falling in love? Hospital vigils? Protracted pining while sharing a bed? Impeccable.

“They’re together now,” Wayne finishes.

“Darling,” Angel says, not for the first time, “I’d like to remind you that you are not paying per word for this call.”

Wayne huffs at him, also not for the first time.

“Steve didn’t know liking both boys and girls meant he was bisexual. He thought there was some sort of…threshold he needed to pass to be queer enough to date a man. I suppose Robin set him straight––or, not so straight as the case may be––” he chuckles a little at his own joke, “And he came over to declare his love as soon as his shift ended.”

Angel takes a moment to digest that. “...Maybe they use Eddie as the sperm donor if they want kids,” he suggests.

“Ease up, it’s not like they teach this shit in school. Bet I’d been a lot more confused too if I had the luxury of liking both.”

“Alright, I won’t pick on your future son-in-law, promise.”

“ Speaking of school,” Wayne says, sidestepping his implication. “Eddie got his diploma in the mail yesterday.”

“You going to do something to celebrate?”

“Actually, we thought we’d take a trip to Indy this weekend.”

Angel twists the phone’s cord around his finger. “…you’re supposed to come next weekend.”

“So you’d have to see me two weeks in a row, if you can bear it.”

“A trial, to be sure. When you say…” he pauses, trying to figure out how to clarify without breaking his own heart. “When you come this weekend. Would you want us—would you want me. To meet them?”

He closes his eyes and bangs a fist against his forehead because that is not the safe way to ask that question.

“It'd be pretty weird if they didn’t meet the person hosting them.”

“Oh, I see. You’re just using me for my five star accommodations,” he says, because he’s apparently determined to dig his own grave.

“No. Wayne says, “those are nice. But mostly I just want to introduce them to my boyfriend.”

“Ah.”

“And saying shit like that makes me think you’re trying to compete with Steve in the stupid Olympics.”

Angel makes an outraged noise but Wayne talks over him which is unique enough an occurrence that Angel lets him get away with it.

“See,” Wayne says. “The boys have decided they don’t want to stay in Hawkins long-term. They figure they’ll stay another year. Save some money. Make sure the kids are settled. And then Eddie’s set on New York or California and I think Steve’s just set on Eddie, wherever he is. I thought we could at least make a case for Indy, though. ‘Cause if Eddie isn’t staying in Hawkins, I’ve got no reason to.”

“Ah,” Angel says again. “And you don’t have any interest in New York or California?”

“I sure don’t,” Wayne says levelly.

“Well,” he clears his throat. “I’ll mop the floors and clean the windows. Give them the best showing I can. Should we plan to take them to one of the…heavier… music venues? I can probably have Frank cover for me, I’d just need to ask him now.”

“Nah. I figure I’ll help you out Saturday night and let them explore on their own. Eddie’s already making a list of options. But Friday is drag night at your place, right?”

“It is.”

“We should start them with that, I think.”

Angel grins. “Their debut in queer society shall be heralded by Dolly Parton and glitter.”

“Mm.”

Angel is familiar enough with Wayne’s thoughtful noises to know that he’s smiling.

“Enough about my boys,” Wayne says. “Tell me about your day.”

Angel does.

When Angel hangs up ten minutes later, for once, he’s grinning. He thinks, as usual, not today but someday. Only ‘someday’ suddenly feels tangible in a way it never has before.

***

Eddie Munson is exactly what Angel expected him to be when he comes tumbling out the driver’s side door of the van parked half on Angel’s driveway and half on his lawn. Angel has been hearing about him through the rosy lens of Wayne’s affection for close to five years and as a result, Angel loves him immediately upon first sight.

Then again, he’d be difficult not to love. Eddie is a bright, frenetic, presence, all hair and chains and affected airs, who shares Wayne's smile, though he dispenses smiles much more freely than his uncle. He is unashamedly himself as he shakes Angel’s hand, tells his uncle he approves, and then asks for a tour of the house.

Steve Harrington is somehow simultaneously exactly and nothing like Angel expected.

Exactly, because he looks the part: a cropped Hawkins Varsity Basketball sweatshirt, tiny athletic shorts, and the well-built frame of someone who regularly works out. His hair is verging on ridiculous. His face is…well-suited to the body, he’ll say.

But the kid also has a hyper-awareness to him, a quick-eyed, assessing, vigilant posture, that Angel has only ever seen in war vets twice the kid’s age. He puts his back to a room’s farthest corner. He keeps doorways in sight. And he constantly, constantly, orbits Eddie like the world's most unsubtle protective detail.

There are also the scars. Terrible, still-healing, scars. On one exposed thigh, the side of his neck, and his right forearm. On the slice of skin between his waistband and the frayed cut-off hem of his sweater. He wears them unapologetically, with the composure of someone who is neither proud nor embarrassed by them.

Angel suspects, only a few minutes into their first meeting, that Eddie may have similar scars beneath his torn jeans and bleach-speckled band shirt. One of his arms has some sort of medical sleeve on it—the pale fabric covered in black bleed-fuzzy Sharpie drawings of bats. Angel considers the mangled half-moon-shaped lines decorating Steve’s thigh. Unless earthquakes have suddenly developed teeth, Wayne has clearly been editing his stories.

But despite their significant aesthetic differences, the two boys are well-suited, if painfully young and unpracticed in the art of subtlety. They touch each other constantly; unthinkingly. Hands. Hips. Shoulders. Elbows. And the way they look at each other—well. They’ll need to work on that if they don’t want to accumulate more scars. Granted, they hardly have to hide their relationship in the sanctuary of his home, but he gets the feeling they don’t know how to be any other way with each other.

It’s both sweet and more than a little heartbreaking.

“So,” he says, “ I need to get back to the bar before the opening act at 8. It’s drag night.”

“Robin is going to be furious she didn’t come,” Steve says.

“We’ll bring her next time,” Eddie says.

They go.

***

Angel’s bar is called Innuendo.

He can’t take credit for the name, but he can take credit for the atmosphere. It’d been a dark, sticky, hole-in-the-wall when he started working there at 21. When he’d bought it from the former owner a decade later, he’d cleaned it up, regulated the jukebox hours, and started live music, drag, and deejay nights. A few years after that, in 1984, when the mayor issued a proclamation declaring the new city policy to no longer discriminate against queers, he’d taken the boards down from all the windows.

It’s still dark in the back where the stage and dance floor are tucked away, but the front windows with a clear view of the street are big and unashamed. He keeps the windows clean.

There’s a copy of the proclamation framed above them, along with pictures of Angel and noteworthy patrons of the establishment over the years: Wakefield Poole; Tom Higgins; Bayard Rustin; Freddie Mercury, and Jim Hutton.

A lot has changed in the last two decades that he’s worked there, but some things, like the old oak-wood bar where all the pictures were taken, stay the same.

He brings Wayne and the boys in through the back to scattered shouts of hello from regulars. He and Wayne slide behind the bar to start helping Frank, and the boys sit on stools with wide eyes.

It’s nice, to see the place from their perspective. The magic of it is never lost on him, but sometimes he does forget exactly how magic it is: a bar that looks like most other bars but where men look and touch and kiss without concern, where there’s art and magazines and conversations that wouldn’t be permitted by common society a scant few feet outside the door.

After fifteen minutes, they get brave enough to explore—admiring the posters on the opposite wall: Bijou and Boys in the Sand; Passing Strangers, Forbidden Letters, and A Night at the Adonis.

They play a round of darts near the front windows, the boards covered in shitty black-and-white copies of Anita Bryant’s face.

They sit at a table near the stage when the show starts. They pull their chairs together. They hold hands on the tabletop. They laugh and shout and sing along and kiss when invited.

After, when they’re back at the bar, flushed with alcohol and the subtle worldview shift that Angel remembers well from his first visit to a gay bar, a few of the queens come over to introduce themselves. Leslie, currently in her Cher era, steps up to the bar, accepts her drink from Wayne with a wink, and gives Steve a clear once-over.

“Aren't you out a little late for a school night, baby?" she says in her customary baritone.

“Uh, no ma’am. I graduated last year. Sorry. Sir?”

"Sugar, do I look like a ‘sir’ to you?"

“Take it easy on him, Les,” Angel calls. “He’s new.”

“No kidding.” She purses her lips at him. “Ma’am is fine unless you meet me on the street. But here I’d prefer ‘honey. Or ‘darling.”

Steve swallows. “I promised I’d reserve pet names for my boyfriend. So. I’ll stick with Ma’am.”

“Well aren’t you a charmer. And where is this boyfriend?”

“Hi,” Eddie says.

She gives him an equally critical once-over.

“Do you know what that color bandana means in that pocket?”

Eddie glances down at his back left pocket; at the black bandana hanging against his thigh.

“Ah...that I’m into S&M but that I like to be the submission one? Like the one getting tied up?”

“You what?” Steve says.

Angel notices that Wayne has made a hasty exit to the bathroom, which is probably for the best.

“Oh my sweet summer child,” Leslie says, “it means the opposite on that side, so maybe switch pockets.” She considers Steve’s pink face. “And also maybe talk to your boyfriend. The whole point of flagging is to find someone to meet your needs and you've got a pretty one right here who seems like he’s awfully willing.”

Steve pulls the bandana out of Eddie’s pocket and, using his teeth, tidily rips it into two. He tucks one half in Eddie’s right back pocket. He tucks the other in his left. He crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow like he's expecting Eddie to argue. Eddie does not argue. Eddie doesn't do much of anything except stare at him with wide, hungry eyes.

“Well,” Leslie says, sounding pleased, “My work here is done. Honestly, kids these days.”

She gives Steve a little pat on the shoulder as she pushes back into the crowd. “I’d dance while you have the chance, boys. Life is short and sometimes so is love. Capitalize on that shit!”

“Do you want to dance?” Steve asks.

Eddie is still watching Leslie with a bemused smile. “I don’t know how to dance to this music.”

“Well I won’t know how to dance to yours tomorrow, but I’m planning to let you show me.”

“Fair enough, King Steve." Eddie affects a curtsy, offering Steve his hand. “I suppose I can allow you to take me for a turn about the dance floor, good sir.”

Steve bows low over Eddie’s hand, pressing his lips to his knuckles, looking up at him with a grin. “An honor,” he says solemnly, and then drags Eddie, laughing, into the throng of moving bodies.

***

The next morning, Angel wakes up early for no reason he can determine. He’s not good at sitting idle, and he doesn’t want his fidgeting to wake Wayne, so he elects to take his book to the garden. Only, as he slips into the hall, careful with the door behind him, he can hear the quiet, indistinct lull of voices in the kitchen.

Angel moves down the hall on sock feet, avoiding the creaky bit of flooring where the original foundation meets the master addition he added four years back.

The boys have opened the double doors to the patio and Steve is leaning against the jam on one side, coffee cup in hand, looking out at the garden. He’s shirtless, wearing only the shorts from the day before. Warm, tree-diluted, sunrise rays cast him in sepia, making the scars that traverse his flank to his thigh look less gruesome and more artistic. Poetic. He knows more than one photographer who would kill for a shot like this. Something about the coexistence of beauty and pain. Something about a commentary on perceptions of strength; the allure of imperfection resulting from battles survived.

Eddie joins Steve, sliding under his open arm like a habit, dragging a hand down Steve’s side to cup the puckered line of recently-stitched skin at Steve’s hip.

Eddie is also shirtless—wearing jeans and a riot of bed head that Steve presses his face into, murmuring something low and clearly funny by the stifled laughter it produces.

Angel wasn't wrong with his initial assumption: Eddie’s back is littered with shallow scars as well, but he also has a fair amount of tattoos, which makes the other marks less incongruous. There’s something about Steve’s otherwise flawless skin and sculpted muscles that make his injuries feel more visceral.

Or, at least, that’s what he thinks until Steve suddenly looks behind him, like he has a preternatural awareness that he’s being watched.

“Oh,” he says, “Good morning.”

Both boys turn to face him.

And Angel realizes that Steve’s injuries pale in comparison to Eddie’s.

Because Eddie’s chest and belly is a brutal mess of scar tissue.

It looks like something tried to gut him.

It looks like whatever it was probably succeeded.

He knows he’s staring but he can’t seem to stop himself until Steve slides a proprietary hand over the worst of it, spread fingers against what has to still be an agony of healing skin.

He meets Angel's eyes and all but dares him to say anything.

“I think,” Angel says, turning abruptly to enter the kitchen, “the occasion calls for french toast. Thoughts?”

“The occasion?” Eddie asks.

His hand covers Steve’s and presses, not a dismissal but an invitation to linger.

“Your diploma,” Angel says, “Steve’s first time making a fool of himself in front of a drag queen. Whatever excuse is sufficient for the making of said french toast.”

“See, we’re sort of trying out this new thing lately,” Eddie murmurs, looking at Steve, “where we don’t need excuses for things that make us happy.”

“No guilt in our pleasures,” Steve agrees, voice soft, expression reverent. He tucks an errant curl behind Eddie’s ear.

Angel resists the urge to sigh at them. Instead, he toasts them with a carton of eggs. “French toast for the pleasure of french toast, then. You two go sit on the bench in the garden. The sun should be hitting it right about now and that is surely a pleasurable experience. I’ll let you know when breakfast is ready.”

Steve meets his eyes again, this time less challenging, more thankful.

His hand slides from Eddie’s belly to the small of his back, pushing him out onto the patio.

“That sounds nice,” he says.

And they go.

When Wayne shuffles out to join Angel at the stove ten minutes later, the bread is sizzling in the skillet.

They take their time washing the egg bowl and whisk in the sink, elbow to elbow, two men sharing space for a one-man job.

They lean into each other, considering Eddie and Steve, similarly leaned into each other, on the bench under the oak tree outside.

“You think I should talk to them?” Wayne murmurs. “About the way they look at each other. And touch each other. And how they need to cut that shit out if they’re in public?”

“Probably,” Angel sighs. “But not today.”

“No,” Wayne agrees after a moment of silence. He presses a kiss to Angel’s temple. “Not today.”

Pt. 4 (Will's POV)

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve/eddie #myfic #outsider pov #prompt fill #mywriting #listen this was mostly an excuse to cram in a bunch of references to the research I did for my PhD exams in queer theory/history

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beesspacedotorg · 5 months ago

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abo skz and their song double knot... just feels like that makes a lot of sense

why else would they have made that song?!? 👀

- 🌵

there's no sex in this, sorry for taking so long bro. there is bang christopher chan though. sorry for the double knot/side effects slander. also this isn't part of the dibsverse

When you first hear the song, you spend the whole of it staring right into Chan’s skull. His ears are bright red and his face is heating and he resolutely avoids your gaze as he stares at the road.

“Christopher,” you start.

“Baby.” “Don’t ‘baby’ me. You did not just make this song.”

“But, did you listen to the lyrics? It’s about finding our own way and-”

“The title of the song is Double Knot, Christopher.”

“It’s about shoe laces!”

“Yeah, I bet it is.”

They don’t perform the song often, they don’t perform songs pre-God’s Menu often, so after a while you let it go. You’re here now, sitting between the Rock Star comeback and whatever comes next, more excited for Nayeon’s new album than anything else, when someone reminds you of it.

“I’m a Double Knot defender,” one of your friends says.

“Do you have ears attached to your head?”

“Yeah, which is why I’ll tell you that the song is straight bars.”

“Yeah, straight un-bar-able.”

“You take that back right now. What next? You don’t like Side Effects?”

“Oh buddy, just wait until you hear this.”

You get back to your table with the drinks when it hits you.

“I fucking forgot about Double Knot.”

“See! Bro’s literally in love with the members and doesn’t even remember the song.” Your friend says. The other one rolls their eyes and starts talking about the amazing production quality in the two songs, you only chime in to stir the pot.

“Christopher!” You’re calling through the house when you get home, kicking off your shoes and throwing your bag haphazardly in a way you know is going to get you scolded later.

“In here!” He calls from his room. Your phone’s been blowing up, so he might be flirting with Stays right now. You hope they won’t mind if you steal him away for a bit.

“Chris, Chan, Channie, you’ll never believe what I was just reminded of.” You flop down next to him, bouncing the two of you a little as his mattress recoils.

“That you need to get the oil changed in your car?”

“What? No. You did that for me last month.”

“That you forgot shampoo at the grocery store?”

“Stop guessing, you’re bad at it.” He huffs and rolls his eyes, setting his phone down to face you fully.

“Well, what is it then?”

“Chan. Channie, Chan. I was reminded,” you stop to giggle, “of Double Knot.” He groans and shoves a pillow onto his face.

“I already told you that-”

“That it was about persevering and shoelaces, I know. But,” you giggle, “Channie, do you know what?” He lifts the pillow just enough to squint at you with one eye.

“What?”

“You can give me your double knot.” He hits you with the pillow.

“That doesn’t even make sense.” The pillow is still over your face but you know better than anyone that he’s bright red and smiley right now. Flustered in that way he always is when you flirt with him.

“Yeah, it does.” You shove the pillow down to look at him, you were right, his face is flaming.

“It most certainly does not.”

“It most certainly does.”

“How?”

“It’s very simple,” you lift your finger beside your face and tilt your head up, putting on a terrible British accent to sound smarter than is necessary for the situation. “One must simply fuck me hard enough that-” He hits you with the pillow again.

“Shush!”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re a virgin.”

“I’m just shy.”

“You weren’t shy last night when you-” The pillow hits you a third time.

“Shh, shh. No more speaking from you.” His hand gently covers your mouth. You stare at him with wide eyes before biting his palm.

“Channie-”

“Ow? What the fuck?” He’s cradling his hand and inspecting it for marks. You didn’t bite him that hard.

“Channie, listen to me-”

“You just bit me-” He stops when he looks back up and gets an eyeful of your chest.

“Channie,” you coo at him, honey sweet, “don’t you wanna fuck me?”

“Jesus.” You smile at him as you can smell his cinnamon get sharper, turning sweet, like an overseasoned latte. He told you once that Koreans don’t use a lot of cinnamon in their foods, so he was worried people wouldn’t like the way he smelled. You told him you want to cover him in sugar icing and lick it off. He called you deplorable.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” He shoves the shirt off your body and lays on top of you to attack your mouth.

“You like me anyway.”

“Love, unfortunately.” You smile at him and throw your arms around his neck.

“So, about those double knots?”

#in:box #🌵anon #bee blurbs #a bee o #ft.channie #chan x reader #skz x reader #chan fluff #skz fluff #chan x you #skz x you

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tkachuktkaching · 6 months ago

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Some of the Matthew Quotes from his recent Interview

Fresh off eliminating the Tampa Bay Lightning in the first round of the Stanley Cup Playoffs, Panthers forward Matthew Tkachuk joined The Pat McAfee Show on ESPN to talk all things puck on Wednesday.

Still in amazement of Tkachuk’s toughness to play with a broken sternum during last year’s Stanley Cup Final, McAfee and his energetic band of co-hosts started the show talking about playing through pain.

“In the Stanley Cup Playoffs all bets are off and you do whatever you can to play,”

“He was fired up to see us beat Tampa the other day,” (talking of his dad)

“Growing up having him as a voice, as a role model, my brother and I were not forced to play hockey, but we had everything around us to help us grow into it and love the game. We had him around every day to ask about anything, help coach us, teach us, but I’d say the biggest thing that allowed my brother and I to make it to this level was each other. Having that unbelievably close relationship, being each other’s best friends, biggest supporters, and competitors as well.”

“One thing that I’m super grateful that my parents did, and my mom deserves so much credit because she was mainly the one getting up at 5 a.m. to take us to the 6 a.m. practices while my dad was on the road, was that we were never allowed to play hockey 24/7, 365 days like some of these kids do now,” said Tkachuk. “My parents were all about playing every sport you can. I think that’s what allowed me to not get burnt out and my love for the game kept growing and growing more.”

“Don’t touch Bob and there won’t be any problems,” When asked about Tampa Bay and the two goalie interference calls against the Lightning in Game 5.

“We are really excited to get a few days of rest and get rejuvenated, but it’s the playoffs and you just want to be out there playing,”

“Some of the best parts of playoffs are just hanging out with the boys in the lounges on the road and watching other games throughout the league.”

With three first-round matchups still ongoing, Tkachuk spoke on how hard it is to close things out.

“The fourth game in a playoff series is always the hardest to win because no matter what you are in the series, the other team is so desperate playing for their lives you have to find a way to match that or exceed that,” said Tkachuk.

Something that can help with closing out a series is playing in front of a home crowd.

“It’s a tough question because last year in playoffs are team was lights out on the road and it didn’t matter where we played,”

“When playing in Florida, we have such great fans and the building is so loud, I think home ice is important for us, having the extra potential game seven at home, you always want to have that at home. I think our fans are so loud and we’ve made this rink here in Florida a tough place to play, so I think home ice is important for our team, it’s an extra layer you can add to the series. I think we have great fans, so it’s important for us.”

Among the recent sellout crowds at Amerant Bank Arena, Miami Dolphins Jalen Ramsey and Jaylen Waddle have come out to support and hype up the crowd with the banging of the pre-game drum.

Knowing Waddle was there, Tkachuk told the show he was planning on a big goal celebration in salute of the fellow local superstar.

“If I scored I was going to do the ‘Waddle’ because he was there,” said Tkachuk. “He’s my favorite football player.”

While it didn’t happen that game, McAfee called for Tkachuk to bring in the dance celebration next time he lights the lamp.

#matthew tkachuk #florida panthers #nhl #nhl.com #nhl playoffs #curls #chucky quotes

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kimaixun · 2 months ago

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[It is what it is; Part Two] - [SKZ Bang Chan X M!Reader]

Part One

‼️Trigger Warning(s) : Bullied, Abuse, Rape, Depression, Suicidal‼️

“Are you still hanged up over it?” Seo ChangBin questions the red headed as he tried to secretly glance over his roommate who sat at the corner of the classroom. “If you’re gonna appear every single time we end a period, you’re labelling yourself as a creep. It’s been a week.”

It has been a week.

A week since that night where Bang Chan couldn’t forget the tiny little tint of hurt flashing across M/N’s eyes. He didn’t go after M/N when he left the restaurant but, as he sat back down, a sense of guilt ambushed him, stabbing his heart that the pain was almost physical. Why? Why did he feel that way? This shouldn’t be hurting him, this should only hurt M/N so why was he hurt? M/N didn’t come back that night and Bang Chan barely caught any sleep either. It was early in the morning the next day when Bang Chan heard the door of the dorm open and M/N came stumbling into the room, tipsy, stench in cigarettes and alcohol. Bang Chan got up to sit on his bed, his eyes observing every move of the latter who seems to ignore him indefinitely.

“M/N……I…. I can explain.” Bang Chan stammered.

M/N turned to him, his eyes glassy and unfocused, “It is what it is. You don’t need to waste your breath explaining and I don’t need to waste my time listening.”

That was all M/N said before dropping onto his bed, burying himself under his blanket. Bang Chan swore something in him cracked. Ever since then, neither of them shared any word or look even, at least not M/N. Bang Chan still stole glances over his roommate whilst M/N simply pretended as if Bang Chan was nothing but, a thin of air.

“Has M/N been different lately in class?”

ChangBin thought for a moment before shaking his head, “not really. He is still a quiet and reserved kid like he always was since forever.”

“T…That’s good i guess.”

ChangBin rolled his eyes, “seriously? Why are you so concerned about M/N?”

“I…I… I’m not concern about him, i….i just wanna see him suffer?” It came out as a question but for sure, ChangBin didn’t believe the latter.

ChangBin sighed and patted Bang Chan’s right shoulder, “I won’t judge if you end up caring about how he had felt you know. Besides, you did have to go through a lot just for a bet.”

At his words, Bang Chan winced. He did had to go through a lot to get to know M/N. He had to learn and study M/N deeply, taking notes of his liking and dislikes, his little pet peeves, etc. When M/N confessed to Bang Chan, there was no doubt that Bang Chan felt something, Bang Chan could feel the sincerity of M/N’s heart. Bang Chan had to do something to reconcile with M/N, or at least, get M/N to just look at him even for a minute and so the gifts came in. Bang Chan had left gifts with notes on M/N’s study table.

‘M/N, I bought you the cake you liked from the bakery nearby.’

‘M/N, I bought the puff you craved for before.’

‘M/N, i got this flowers cause it reminded me of you.’

‘M/N, look at this grumpy cat plush. It looks just like you.’

‘M/N, this was cute so i got it for you.’

‘M/N, the novel was going for sale at the bookstore so i thought of you.’

Bang Chan felt the ache in his heart looking at the untouched gifts on M/N’s table. It didn’t seem like M/N even care to look at them. This had been even worse than when Bang Chan had know him for the first time. The walls that Bang Chan had torn down previously was rebuilt with even more concrete security and to be frank, Bang Chan was losing hope.

Bang Chan dramatically plops onto the lunch table across ChangBin and whined, “he doesn’t even touch it, i doubt he even looked at it. I had to throw all the cake(s) and pastries that turned bad. Binnie, give me ideas please. I have to do something. I need to apologise to him.”

“You’re finally admitting that you don’t want to see him suffer?” ChangBin smirked. Bang Chan sighed in defeat and nodded to his words. “I mean, if the gifts aren’t working, perhaps do something more brazen? Like, just grab him and make him look at you and talk it out.”

“It could work, maybe?”

“Oh, by the way, have you heard about it?”

“About what?”

“It could be a rumour but proof has been circulating that M/N use to be a porn star. He was involved in a child pornography.” ChangBin said and Bang Chan gasped, “it’s sickening knowing that people are actually into it.”

“Please, tell me you’re joking.”

“I told you it could be a rumour. I haven’t seen it for myself.”

Bang Chan abruptly stood from his chair, taking his belongings before he rushes out of the cafeteria. Reality smacked him hard on the face. Just when he thought he knew M/N that well, there was still some untold secrets kept by him. Could this be the reason why M/N declared Bang Chan was his will to live? Could this be why M/N confessed that Bang Chan had saved him from himself? Could M/N have gone through severe depression because if the rumour had been true, it could tear down one’s soul? Now, Bang Chan felt even worse than before. The red headed find himself sprinting to his dorm room, barging into it. There, M/N sat on his bed with his phone in his hand.

“You,” Bang Chan took a deep breath, trying to calm the adrenaline from sprinting.

He locked the door to their dorm room, stomping towards M/N and he stood right in front of the latter who couldn’t care less to even look at him once.

“You…” Bang Chan breathed, “did you know that there are rumours going on that you were involve in a child pornography?” Bang Chan could see how M/N’s frail begin to tremble. “Is it true?” This time, M/N’s head dropped as if he was a child ashamed of being scolded. “M/N? Is it true that you were involved in a child pornography?”

“And so what?” Bang Chan breath hitched as soon as M/N spoke. It had been awhile since he last heard the latter talk and his voice still never failed to give shivers down his spine.

Bang Chan honestly didn’t expect himself to feel anger arise in him at M/N’s response, “so what?! You should’ve told me! You should’ve explain to me the reason why you’ve been telling me that i saved your life! I could’ve understood you better and—,”

“AND WHAT?!” It happened in a blink of an eye. M/N stood up, pushing Bang Chan hard that he had fell onto his bed, “SO YOU CAN TELL CHANGBIN AND YOUR GROUPS OF FRIENDS THAT I AM THE CHILD IN THAT PORNOGRAPHY? SO YOU CAN CONFIRM THE RUMOURS THAT HAVE BEEN CIRCULATING AROUND?! SO YOU CAN JOIN THE SENIORS WHO ARE INTENDING TO RAPE ME?” Raged was seen across M/N as he towers over Bang Chan, spit flying from his lips. In that moment of anger he'd said everything, whatever was most hurtful, whatever would give him the opportunity to relieve himself, “IF I HAD TOLD YOU EVERYTHING THAT HAD HAPPENED IN THE PAST, WHAT COULD YOU HAVE DONE? COULD YOU SAVE ME FROM BEING ADOPTED BY CRIMINALS? COULD YOU SAVE ME FROM BEING SOLD TO PEOPLE, TO HUMANS FOR THEIR PLEASURE? WOULD YOU UNDERSTAND THE TRAUMA AND SUFFOCATION I FELT? WOULD YOU UNDERSTAND ME IF I SAID THAT I HAD TO KILL PEOPLE BECAUSE ALL OF THEM RAPED ME AT ONCE? COULD YOU BE HYUNJIN HYUNG TO ME? COULD YOU BRING BACK HYUNJIN HYUNG TO ME? COULD YOU STOP ME FROM TRYING TO KILL MYSELF EVERY. SINGLE. FUCKING. NIGHT?”

Bang Chan felt his heart throbbed immensely at M/N’s words. The pain and despair he had made M/N felt was nothing compared to what M/N had been through.

“I LOVED YOU! I LOVED YOU CHRISTOPHER BANG! YOU CAME INTO MY LIFE LIKE A FUCKING ANGEL IN DISGUISE. FINALLY, I COULD BREATHE! I FOUND A WILL TO LIVE! I WAS ECSTATIC GENUINELY HAPPY TO BE WITH YOU. I WAS HOPING THAT ONE DAY WHEN WE GRADUATE, GET A JOB, GET A HOUSE TOGETHER, I WOULD MARRY YOU. I WOULD MAKE YOU THE HAPPIEST MAN ALIVE IN THIS WORLD! BUT NO! EVERYTHING WAS A FUCKING BET! EVERYTHING CAME CRUSHING DOWN ONCE AGAIN AND I WANTED TO DIE IF IT WASN’T FOR HYUNJIN HYUNG’S LAST WISH! I WANTED TO JUST JUMP OFF THE BRIDGE THE NIGHT I—,”

M/N stopped himself abruptly, his breath ragged from his outburst, tears streaming down his cheeks. He took a second to breathe, rethinking about that words he had retorted. M/N felt guilty. He shouldn’t have burst out to Bang Chan out of anger. He should’ve just ignored him like he had been for the past few weeks. He shouldn’t have made the impression that Bang Chan had made M/N think about suicide. No one was at fault but, him. M/N was at fault to even exist in the first place.

“M/N,” Bang Chan’s chest heaved with each sob, breath catching in irregular gasps. Tears streamed down his cheeks, unchecked and hot against his skin. His throat tightened, a lump forming that made it difficult to speak. In that moment, M/N felt his heart shatter into pieces. In all his years of living, someone was crying for him. No one should need to cry for him, especially Bang Chan. He didn’t know what he should do and so, M/N left the dorm room, leaving the sobbing one.

“Here, I got you water.” ChangBin sat on the Bang Chan’s bed as the latter hide himself under the covers. Bang Chan finally crawled out and took the water.

“Why are you here?” His voice was hoarse as if he had been crying for days but, in actually fact, it had only been a couple of hours since M/N left him.

“M/N came running to find me. He said that I should come here and take care of you.”

“He did?”

ChangBin nodded, handing over a warm towel to Bang Chan, “i assume you guys had a fight? None of your faces look any better. You look like a puffer fish and so did M/N just now. I’m surprise you guys can see the world with those swollen eyes.”

“I fucked up ChangBin. I fucked up so bad that i just wanna go back to the time i met M/N for the first time.” Bang Chan sniffled.

“That bad huh?”

“I love M/N, i really do. Even if it wasn’t a bet, I would’ve still fallen for M/N.”

“Finally.” ChangBin smiled, “took you so long to admit it. I apologise to M/N earlier on and explain to him the real reason behind the bet. If isn’t for our seniors who threaten us to make our college life miserable on the bet, we wouldn’t have done it. Surprisingly, M/N asked for the seniors names and when i told him, he was silent.”

“What do you mean?”

“He said those seniors had been after him for a while now. He mentioned something about them knowing the truth from their government parents. I didn’t understand him though, do you?”

“Wait, did you said government parents?”

“Yes.” ChangBin affirmed, “Tae-il sunbaenim’s parents are apart of the government ministers.”

“If they are government minister, it means they technically can know each and every person’s background don’t they?”

“Technically yes,”

“Oh no.”

“Woah, where are you going?” ChangBin was taken aback when Bang Chan practically fly out of his bed, grabbing his phone and putting on his shoes. “Can you at least explain something to me?”

“I need to find M/N. I need to talk to him. I need to apologise. I need,” Bang Chan took a deep breath, “I need M/N.”

“Oh, good luck.”

Bang Chan wasn’t gonna waste anytime because if his institution was right, he needs to find M/N fast. Upon knowing another truth, Bang Chan assume that Tae-il and his gang of friends knew about M/N’s past thus they might have been the ones with the intention to rape M/N all this while. This time, Bang Chan was determine to be save M/N. He needs to. He spammed M/N’s phone with calls and messages but to no avail, there was no response. He searched through the campus asking around if anyone had seen M/N but everyone looked at him in disgust instead. That was until Bang Chan came across a group of seniors in the hallway, he didn’t approach them but, he overheard their conversation that put him sick to the stomach.

“Damn was M/N good.”

“I would do him again.”

“Tae-il is making a fortune.”

“Fucking him was definitely better than a woman.”

“Though the location could be better. The gym storeroom smelled horrible.”

BINGO.

Bang Chan sprinted as fast as a wind to the gym storeroom. He was met with groups of people hanging outside the storeroom. Bang Chan ignored the calls from the people that had deemed to be his ‘friends’ as he stomped into the storeroom. His blood turns cold the moment he was met with what was happening. M/N was tied up in ropes and Bang Chan could see the friction burns underneath it. He was naked, blindfolded, body covered in bruises and blood. As if M/N was a doll, three people were doing the deed, raping him simultaneously on the front and back. Tae-il sat by them, on the chair, cigarettes in his hand smirking proudly as if he had done the best thing in the world.

“FUCK OFF!”

Rage was all he saw. He couldn’t think ahead as he lounge towards them. RED. That was all Bang Chan could see. He didn’t know how or what had happened but he felt someone pulling him away from Tae-il and he came into realisation. Tae-il lay on the floor a couple of feet away from M/N, beaten almost to death. He could hear ChangBin telling him that everything was okay now. No, it wasn’t. M/N was still blindfolded, unaware of what was happening, trembling and curling up on the ground. Bang Chan realised he couldn’t save M/N. He failed to save him.

“M/N?” Bang Chan’s hand trembled as he reached out to M/N. He released the ropes, covering M/N’s fragile frail with the blanket Lee Know had handed over. “M/N, its me. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Bang Chan removed the blindfold and M/N’s e/c orbs looked at him but, his heart shattered. M/N wasn’t crying neither did he show the intention to cry. His eyes wasn’t even watery to begin with. All M/N did was stare into Bang Chan’s teary eyes, lifelessly and Bang Chan broke down as he embraced M/N tightly.

What had he done?

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Author’s Note: Apologies for the late update but, here it is! I might just add one last part to this! A happy ending? Or shall I wreck my own heart with a sad ending?

#malereader #kpop x male reader #stray kids x male reader #straykidsxmalereader #seo changbin #stray kids #christopherbang #skz bang chan #bangchan #angst #trigger warning #rape #depression #suicidal

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holylulusworld · 10 months ago

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The one that got away (4)

Summary: Your best friend breaks your heart.

Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, past unrequited feelings, regret, reunion, naughty Dean, implied innocent reader, possessive Dean, tension

A/N: I'm a tease...

Catch up here: The one that got away (3)

The one that got away masterlist

“You won’t kiss any part of me,” you shove him away. “Get off me! I’m not some random hussy you can bang in the backseat of your car. Even if it’s Baby.”

“I was an idiot, okay!” He throws his hands up in surrender. Dean watches you, waiting for you to disagree. The minutes tick by but you remain silent.

You cross your arms over your chest and purse your lips. “If you are waiting for me to disagree with you, this is going to be a fucking long day.”

He cocks a brow. “Maybe I was an idiot back then, but I know better now. Give me the chance to take you on a date. Come on,” he steps closer again to tickle your sides, making you giggle. “One date, sweetheart. I swear I’ll behave and won’t try to kiss you.”

“Pinky promise?” You hold out your finger, waiting for Dean to return the gesture.

“That’s…” He snickers. “So cute you remember!” Dean gives you a pinky promise but crosses his fingers behind his back. “I won’t try to kiss your lips.”

“Good,” you quip. “If you promise to behave, we can have dinner. I know this nice little restaurant. They have pie for dessert too.”

“PIE?” His eyes lit up. “I love me some pie.” Dean smiles as you remember his love for pie. “Let’s go! They have pie!”

“Dean,” you laugh. “Slow down. You’ll get a slice of pie. Please don’t total your car for pie.”

“She still purrs,” you squeal when Dean drives a little faster. “Aw, pretty girl sounds like a young cat, not an old lady.”

“Baby is not an old lady,” he grumbles. “She’s a classic car, sweetheart. Never call her old again.”

“I wouldn’t dare call her old,” you smirk and look out of the window. “I remember the first time you offered a ride to me. You were so excited and giddy like a little boy.” You sigh deeply. “I felt so special because I was the first girl you offered a ride. But the next day, some other girl sat in the passenger seat. I knew then that I wasn’t special at all. Just one of the girls you drove around town.”

“Y/N, you were the first girl I offered a ride. You were special to me back then. I was too chicken to admit that I wanted more from you than friendship.”

“You weren’t afraid to ask the other girls out, Dean. Don’t try to fool me. Back then I was a naïve young girl who was head over heels for her best friend. I’m a woman now, and know a little more about life, and men.”

“Sweetheart, I regret that I rejected you back then. I understand that you still hold a grudge. Please believe me, if I could turn back time, I would tell you that I feel the same and make you scream my name in the backseat of my car.”

He grins when you punch his upper arm. “Asshole.”

“Guilty,” Dean laughs and moves his hand to your thigh to squeeze it. “I would’ve made sweet love to you on a bed first.” He purrs. “Slow and gentle.”

You swallow thickly. Dean still can make you squirm. “I never said I want you to make sweet love to me.”

He squares his jaw but doesn’t say a thing. Dean made a promise to himself years ago. If he ever meets you again, you’ll be his girl.

“We will see,” he hums to himself and bobs his head to the song on the radio. “I bet you’ll be putty in my hands.”

“You were right,” Dean moans deeply. “The food is great.” He shoves a spoonful of food into his mouth. “I love it here. After everything is settled and I find an apartment, I’ll make this place my favorite restaurant.”

You choke on the food. “You want to move to town?”

“Oh, did I not tell you that your company hired me?” He grins and winks at you. “I was here for the conference. I had a job interview and they wanted me to join the conference to get to know my new colleagues and work field.”

“You bastard,” you slap his shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me so?”

“I wanted to have dinner with you first and talk about my job later,” he shrugs. “You never asked why I was at the conference. I didn’t think it was important.”

“Dean, it is important if you live in the same town and work at my company. You just came back out of nowhere and now…” you wring your hands. All the feelings for Dean you suppressed for so long come crashing down on you again. “How shall this work?”

“We work together, and I can drive you home after work. You and I can have dinner. Maybe you invite me over to eat your sweet pussy.”

“What?” You cough and look around the restaurant. “Dean! You can’t say things like that in public.”

“Well then, let’s go somewhere private, Y/N,” he dips his head to look you up and down in your business outfit. “I’d love to get you out of those pants and your blouse.”

“Winchester,” you lean closer to place your hand on his thigh, squeezing hard, “you won’t get into my pants so easily. No man made me fall for him. Your charm doesn’t work on me anymore.”

“Sweetheart,” he covers your hand and squeezes it, “we both know that you are going home with me tonight…”

Part 5

Tags in reblog.

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #spn #au!dean winchester #au!dean winchester x reader #business au

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breannasfluff · 1 year ago

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Neglectful Moments

Whump Rating: 1/5

“Everyone grab a partner for the portal!” Time’s call had the group shifting in a well-organized pattern.

“Twi, want me to put your stuff in my slate?” Wild with Twilight.

“Hyrule, we don’t have to hold hands every time we go through!” Legend and Hyrule.

“Ready, old man?” Warriors with Time.

“Where do you think we’ll go next?” Wind with Sky.

And that left Four. Alone. Sure, he could join with one of the other groups, but they had each other.

As he does every time, Time says, “You good, Four?”

“Ready to go!” His smile is a little more strained each time. How did he end up the odd one out in the group? He met Sky first! Yet the chosen hero gravitated to their youngest.

It didn’t matter; Four had himself. Blue and red swirl into a muddy purple; anger and longing for what the others have. He’s a hero. Heroes don’t need partners. Even if everyone else has one.

“Legend! Hurry up!” Wild is bouncing in place as he waits for the vet to reach him. “I want to hit the market early before all the good produce is gone!”

“An extra 20 seconds won’t kill you,” Legend snarls. Aches and pains, acquired over several adventures, are made worse by the nipping cold of the air. Why can’t he be home, curled up in front of the fire? Ravio can bring him a cup of hot cider. Or, at the very least, he could still be in bed in the inn.

But no, he had to open his big mouth and volunteer when Wild said he wanted to go into town last night. Never mind that his feet ached and his scars were tight. Never mind that he’s ready to snap the Champion over his knee for the audacity of moving without pain.

What does Legend need to do to get some of that Shrine healing? Die, according to Wild, but some days that sounds like the better option.

“Hey c’mon! I bet I can beat you to the first stall!” And he’s off, ducking and weaving through the early morning crowd.

Legend suppresses a sob as his leg throbs and forces himself to keep going. Heroes don’t get to rest, even grouchy ones. Especially grouchy ones, if the Goddesses have anything to do with it.

“Old man? You doing okay?”

Warriors’ worry is not what Time wants to deal with. Sometimes it’s nice to know others care, but not today. “I’m fine. We need to keep going.”

Wind cries behind them, being carried by Twilight. His leg is broken. Hyrule is passed out in Sky’s arms after a nasty knock to the head. He won’t be providing healing until he wakes up. The rest of them are banged up as well.

Time didn’t escape; there’s a wound to his side that’s slowly spreading a bloody patch through his tunic. He squeezes his arm tighter to his side. The group needs a strong leader right now. They can’t afford to deal with his injury.

Even if—to borrow a phrase from Legend—Din’s tit’s it hurts. Stab wounds tend to do that and Time curses the fact that he has enough knowledge to generalize.

“How much further until we reach the town?”

“Another few hours, I think.” He keeps the waver of pain from his voice and straightens, despite how it pulls on his wound. “Let me know when Hyrule wakes up.”

With a nod, Warriors falls back into line. Time refuses to glance at the wound; as soon as he does the others will notice. If he can make it to the town before it bleeds all the way through, it will be a miracle.

If nothing else, he’s going to delay the inevitable panic. It’s not fatal, and curse that he knows this, too.

Warriors, as he’s now called, works hard to uphold his confident mask. Insecurity is covered by a flashy personality. Fears hidden in jokes. Worries brushed away. When asked how he’s doing, the response is I’m good, even if it’s not true. It’s not a conscious decision. It’s all he’s ever known.

The first fight he’s in, he checks over Wind obsessively.

“I’m fine! Jeez, I’m a hero just like you, don’t baby me!” The sailor fends him off with a growl.

“I’m just worried about you!” Warriors says. “Is there anything I can do? Or get you? Do you want me to take your bag?”

“You’re such a mother cucco.” But Wind passes his bag over, so the captain takes it as a win.

Later, when Wind is distracted with a snack, he cleans and bandages his wounds. It never occurs to him to share that information with his fellow hero.

It gets hard to hide when Time joins the group. By then, half the Chain are used to his mothering and fussing. They let him help, let him baby them to a degree, even if they grumble. Sometimes, they say thank you.

Whenever Warriors helps, it adds another drop to the endless bucket. If he tries harder, if he’s nicer, if he does more—he’ll be able to stay with them. Each time he’s injured he keeps it to himself. Either he bandages it on his own, or he lives with the pain.

The captain is also the most likely to jump in the way of an incoming sword to save the others. At the end of the day, Warriors isn’t as important as them. He’s already disappointed so many people; the most he can do is try to make up for it.

“Aryll, don’t forget your snack!” Wind waves the bag at her, ignoring the eye roll he gets in response. Then he falls into step beside her.

“Hey!” Twilight grabs his shoulder and spins him around. “Where are you going?”

“To walk with Aryll to her friend’s house?” Why is this a question? Wind goes everywhere with his little sister when they are home.

The rancher gives him a flat look. “Is it far?”

“No, just a few minutes down the road.”

“And you are walking her because…”

Wind stares, brows crinkling in confusion. “Because I always do?”

“Sailor, let your poor sister walk down the road on her own.” Twilight waves Aryll on. She hesitates, looking between the two of them, then finally turns and trudges down the road.

Wind watches her go, discomfort rising. He should walk her there. He always does!

Twilight nudges his shoulder. “You aren’t her mom. You don’t need to act like the parent, here. Weren’t you going to show Sky your shell collection this time?”

He was looking forward to that. Still—“I’d really feel better if I went with her.”

“She’s not going to vanish as soon as she’s out of your sight.”

Wind throws him a flat look and mocks flapping wings. The rancher has the grace to wince, at least. “Look, you can’t control her life. And you can’t protect her every second. We’ll be leaving soon.” Wind is still mulish. “I know you care for her but…who’s caring for you?”

The sailor snorts and tosses his curls from his eyes. “I take care of myself.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

#neglect #whumptober2023 #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu whumptober #breannasfluff #mywriting #lu time #lu four #lu wild #lu legend #lu twilight #lu wind #lu warriors

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year ago

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Falling For the Devil [Part fifty: "The Interview"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re struggling to finish writing an article at The Bulletin when your work day is unexpectedly interrupted.

Those two men clearly aren't chauffeurs and they are definitely not taking you to an interview.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 4.7k

a/n: This installment beings our descent into the Big Angst arc. Forewarning, there is no comfort in the next handful of installments. Not until you get to "The Aftermath" do you begin to see comfort which is Part fifty-eight. Just a head's up for those who can't handle no comfort without all of the installments posted. We also from now on begin to get occasional Matt POVs! You can find the entire list of installments for this series on tumblr here, and if you're enjoying it let me know!!

Running your hands through your hair, you stared blankly at your computer monitor. You had almost finished your article, though your word count was just a bit under what you needed it to be for an upcoming issue. Your mind felt like it was turning to mush the longer you stared at the document, willing more thoughts to come to you. With a loud, frustrated groan, you threw your face in your hands. A second later you heard the telltale sound of Katy’s computer chair wheeling back towards your cubicle.

“Struggling still?” she asked.

“Yes,” you whined into your hands. “I can’t think of two hundred more words to say about this upcoming event of which I personally don’t care about.”

“I hear that,” Katy sighed out. “Why don’t you just step away for a bit? No one else is here, Ellison won’t care. Go visit your man or something.”

“Can’t,” you said, sliding your hands down your face. “Court day today. His phone is off and I can’t exactly barge into the courtroom.”

“I mean you could,” Katy replied, shooting you a grin. “Bet he’d have some frustrations of his own to work out, if you know what I mean.”

You rolled your eyes, throwing yourself back into your chair. “Katy,” you groaned, “why is it always about sex with you?”

“Have you suddenly gone blind?” she shot back, ignoring the look you sent her at the comment. “Your man is smoking hot. Like sure, he sounds absolutely sweet and smart and wonderful and charming from everything else you’ve told me, but like, don’t tell me you’re not always wanting to bang him when he walks into a room. Because I will not believe you.”

"Okay, you're not entirely wrong," you conceded, "but there's vastly more to that man than sex, Katy."

"Of course there is," she cooed, suddenly adopting a teasing tone. "Because you love him. You want to marry him. You want to fuck his brains out and have an entire horde of fucking beautiful little babies with him."

You snorted out a laugh, shaking your head. "Something along those lines, I suppose," you said with a laugh. You abruptly shot her a stern look as her eyes went wide at your admission, pointing a firm finger at her chest. "But that is strictly between us, Katy. You hear me? I don't need to scare him away."

Katy exaggeratedly rolled her eyes back at you. "Oh please, that man is practically married to you already," she said. "Sending lunches to you, walking you home from the office. Asking you to move in on your terms . Buying you expensive flowers when you have a bad day. Taking long ass road trips to spend the holidays with your family."

Your brows furrowed as you glanced back at your computer monitor. "That…doesn't mean he's thinking about marriage," you said slowly.

"Doesn't it?" Katy shot back, brows raised.

"No, it just means–"

Your sentence was cut short when you heard your name called through the office. Both you and Katy exchanged a look before you hesitantly rose to your feet. Two large men in suits were standing by the main office door, one of them with a very noticeable scar along his forehead. Both of them had dark, short cropped hair and stern expressions. Your palms began to sweat at the sight of them, your hands balling into fists at your sides. Even under their dark suits you could see their muscles, and the possible shape of something far more dangerous and deadly.

"That's me," you answered, trying hard to sound like you weren't quickly becoming nervous. "Can I help you?"

"We were asked to invite you for an interview," the man with the scar told you, a false polite smile flashing at you across the room.

Your brows furrowed, your heart beginning to race. "Oh? I–I didn't have any interviews scheduled for today," you replied, voice shaking.

"No, but Mr. Backman would very much like to discuss some things with you," Scar Face continued.

"Uh, well, now is not really the best time," you told them quickly, cold fear shooting through your body. You could feel Katy's eyes burning a hole into the side of your head as you spoke. "I have a deadline I'm trying to meet right now. But I could schedule something for later this week?"

The man beside Scar Face crossed his arms over his chest, the muscles in his arms becoming more prominent with the gesture. You swallowed hard in response, eyes drawn to his intimidating figure; they were obviously trying to scare you and it was very much working. Your fists curled tighter, nails beginning to bite into your skin.

"Well you see," Not Scar Face said slowly, holding your stare unblinkingly as he spoke, "Mr. Backman sent a car for you to come for an interview now. He doesn't exactly do rescheduling."

"You're uh, sure about that?" you asked weakly.

"Very sure about that," Scar Face agreed.

Licking your lips nervously, you tried not to externally show how much you were internally panicking. You didn't seem to have a way out of this. They were currently blocking your only exit, and judging by the strange way their suit coats were fitting them, you were certain there was a gun under at least Scar Face’s jacket. It was currently just you and Katy here at the office, too; no other witnesses or hope for any backup were around. And you doubted you could make a call to police, stall these men long enough for them to get here, and then manage to have any sort of excuse to get these men arrested. And if you somehow did manage that, you were certain more men would come for you. And they’d probably be a lot less pleasant and cordial than these two currently were. Not to mention, if you did the wrong thing here, you could be putting Katy in harm's way.

No, you were going to have to go with them, and if they didn't kill you, Matt certainly would after this.

"Alright, well, do you mind if I just use the bathroom real quick before we go?" you asked carefully, nails biting further into your sweat-dampened palms.

Not Scar Face was about to respond, his mouth opening as he managed the first syllable, but Katy popped up in her cubicle beside you and briefly startled the two men. Their attention immediately shifted to her short frame, both of them tensing as they took in the sight of her. You saw Scar Face’s hand inching towards the inside of his suit coat, but Katy’s eyes were only on you when she spoke.

"You need a new tampon before you go?" she asked loudly, ignoring how the two men pulled faces at her question. Her eyes remained fixed on you as she threw out the question you'd both agreed on in the event one of you were ever in a dangerous situation.

"Yes, actually,” you told her, shooting her a strained smile. “I could use another.”

“Just make it quick,” Scar Face snapped from across the room. “Mr. Backman doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Your attention focused back on the two men across the room as Katy bent down and rummaged through her purse for an actual tampon. Your hand was searching blindly along your desk for your phone as you held their gaze, trying to come across as inconspicuous as you could.

“Of course,” you said, forcing the strained smile to remain on your face as your hand finally collided with it. “I’ll only be a few minutes,” you assured them as you slowly slipped the device into your pocket.

You turned, breath feeling like it was catching in your throat and stomach roiling uncomfortably with nerves. You focused on Katy, her eyes still locked only on you as she dramatically held up the tampon so the men across the office could see she was indeed handing you one.

“Here,” she said loudly, crossing the space towards you. As you accepted the tampon from her, she quickly whispered out of the corner of her mouth, “Call the cops when you leave?”

“Ah, thank you!” you said, nodding faintly.

She sent you a tense smile before you turned and tried to walk as casually as you could towards the women’s bathroom just in the hallway near your cubicle. You pushed the door open, fighting the tremor in your hands as you did, and continued all the way to a stall before locking yourself in. Hands still shaking, you took a moment to catch your breath, tossing the tampon on the bathroom floor.

You needed to call Matt.

Slipping your phone out of your pocket, you pulled up your contacts and immediately dialed his number. You held the phone to your ear, but just as you suspected, it went straight to his voicemail. Because he was in court and he always had his phone turned off when he was in court. Closing your eyes, you whispered a curse into the bathroom stall. He’d already recessed for lunch just over an hour ago, you had no idea when he’d be out of court for the day and see your message. But you had to leave one anyway, hoping that he’d get it.

At the beep you took a deep, shuddering breath and began your message, trying not to be too loud in case the men were somehow waiting near the bathroom.

“Matt, uh, I have a very big problem,” you began nervously. “There’s two men who just showed up at my office. They’re saying Backman sent a car for me for an interview.” You paused, eyes closing as you tried to keep your breathing even–falling into a panic attack would be a terrible idea right now. “I–I don’t think they’re your usual chauffeurs, though. I’m pretty sure one of them has a gun in their suit coat. And I have no idea where they’re going to take me.”

Your mouth felt like it was going dry and you swallowed hard, trying to talk faster. You didn’t know how much longer you could pretend you were just using the bathroom.

“It’s only Katy and I at the office,” you continued in a rush. “She’s calling the cops when I’m gone. I–I don’t see any other options here, Matt. I have to go with them.” You exhaled a shaky breath, the full weight of the situation you were trapped in hitting you hard. “You were right,” you whispered into your phone. “When guys with guns come after me, I’m not the one who knows how to fight back. You are.”

Chewing your lip, your heart thundering in your chest, you felt the sting of tears in your eyes as a multitude of fears raced frantically through your mind. Would Matt even get this message in time to help? How would he even find where they were taking you? What did Backman even want with you?

And were you even going to make it out of this alive?

Quickly you brushed away a tear that had slipped down your cheek with the back of your free hand. Fighting down a wave of nausea, you shakily whispered into your phone, “I–I have to go before they realize what I’m doing.” You paused one brief moment, blinking back tears. “I love you, Matt,” you breathed out, voice so quiet even to your own ears.

Pulling the phone from your ear, you hung up. Once again you wiped away the tears that had fallen from your cheeks before you exited the bathroom stall on unsteady legs. You began to slide your phone back into your pocket, but then you briefly paused, pulling it back out and looking down at the little device. They’d surely take your phone from you, probably destroy it so no one could track you with it, right? It’s not like they’d just let you make some calls and shoot some texts with it, so what was the point in bringing it with you? Maybe if you left it behind you’d seem more like a clueless and harmless reporter thinking you were really just going for an interview. Maybe that could work in your favor.

You could do that. You could play innocent and dumb. So innocent and dumb you didn’t think to grab your phone–because who doesn’t carry their phone? Naive and clueless air-headed people, right? Especially someone who wasn’t thinking they were about to be kidnapped.

With shaking hands, you tossed your phone onto the bathroom counter away from you. Your stomach felt like it was sinking to the floor as you tossed away your only lifeline before walking straight into certain danger. Exhaling one last long breath, you squared your shoulders and made your way out of the bathroom.

Katy spun around on her office chair, her back rigid where she sat. The two men were still standing in front of the exit, arms crossed and looking quite intimidating. Walking towards them felt incredibly wrong, everything in your body screaming not to. You wished you could fight like Matt in this moment, wished you could knock them both out and get you and Katy out of the building–but you weren’t Matt. You weren’t Daredevil. You were just a reporter who’d made a mistake in your investigation and you were about to pay for it.

“Hey, we’re still on for tonight, right?” Katy asked you, her eyes clearly trying to tell you something else.

“Yeah, of course,” you told her, forcing that strained smile back onto your face.

“Good, I got you tonight, alright?” she replied.

“Thank you,” you answered, your eyes also trying to tell her something else.

Forcing your feet to carry you forward, you nervously approached the two burly men who looked irritated and impatient. You tried to wipe your sweaty palms against your dress pants as you stopped in front of them, your heart still wildly thrumming in your chest.

“Let’s go,” Scar Face grumbled, gesturing with his head down the hall towards the elevator.

You nodded stiffly, fighting to keep your eyes from dropping down to the outline of the gun in his suit coat. He turned and began walking and you followed on trembling legs, Not Scar Face stalking down the hall behind you. As Scar Face hit the elevator call button, you tried to fight down another wave of nervous nausea. You needed to keep your cool, you needed to play a part, and you needed to do it believably. Because it might be your only way out of this.

“So uh,” you began, clearing your throat and trying to fight the waver in your voice, “what exactly is Mr. Backman’s interest in this unexpected interview?”

Not Scar Face’s attention shifted towards you and you refrained from flinching under his stare, his cold eyes studying you. You tried to keep your breathing steady as you held his gaze, very much trying to look like a curious and naive journalist.

“You can ask him yourself soon enough,” Not Scar Face told you.

The elevator doors opened, revealing that familiar empty and small space that now seemed terrifying to you. Scar Face threw out a hand, holding the doors before he glanced back at you, raising his brows expectantly. Forcing that strained smile back onto your face, you stepped in and muttered a polite ‘thank you’ as you did.

You were just a naive, stupid little journalist after all. Not a threat.

Both large men stepped in after you, Scar Face pushing the button for the main floor. The doors soon closed, trapping you in the elevator with the pair of them standing directly in front of you. Blocking any chance of you just bolting out of the elevator when the doors opened. Anxiously, your eyes darted up above their heads, your focus on the numbers quickly descending to the first floor.

A minute later the doors opened, both men stepping out before you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you continued to silently follow behind Scar Face as he led you out of the main doors of the building. Your eyes instantly landed on the black SUV parked in front of the building, not even remotely surprised that was where Scar Face was leading you.

He turned when he reached the back door of the SUV, his eyes falling on you. You stopped when you neared him, refraining from flinching when his hand began moving. He ended up outstretching his palm expectantly towards you, your eyes dropping down towards it.

“Mr. Backman is a very private person,” Scar Face told you. “Your phone, please.”

You almost wanted to laugh out loud; of course they were going to take your phone. It was like Kidnapper 101. You knew they were going to.

You made a show of reaching towards your pocket, wanting to be compliant, and then pretending to be shocked that you didn’t actually grab your phone. Your hands even patted both of your pockets a few times, brows furrowing as you glanced down. Behind you, you heard Not Scar Face sigh in annoyance.

“Shit,” you cursed, glancing up at Scar Face. “I think I left it back at the office.”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously at you for a moment. You continued to keep that puzzled expression on your face as his hand lowered.

“Then I guess you won’t mind if we just double check, will you?” Not Scar Face snapped from behind you.

Before you could respond, you felt a pair of hands patting you down. Fighting back the urge to grimace at his touch, especially as his hands grabbed you in places you knew weren’t necessary, you tried to focus on taking deep, calming breaths. Eventually his hands left you, probably making some gesture to Scar Face because he nodded in front of you before turning and opening the car door. With a wave of his hand, he gestured for you to get into the car. Heart sinking to your feet, you made your way forward and climbed in. Not Scar Face slammed your door shut, opening the passenger door in front of you, though he hesitated as he waited for Scar Face to get into the driver’s side. The moment he did, Not Scar Face hopped in and the doors locked, the sound causing you to flinch.

As the car pulled out onto the street, the hair on the back of your neck rose. You were locked in this car with these two men. You had no way out. You had no idea where you were going. You had no idea if and when Matt was going to get your message or if the police Katy was surely calling would even find you.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been in the car for either as they drove. Your eyes tried to memorize the route as you'd sat trapped. In the backseat, you had been nervously chewing your thumbnail and trying to come up with some plan of escape, but none were coming to you. And when the car pulled down a few side streets that looked disturbingly empty, you felt a sense of unease really settling over you.

Eventually the car came to a stop in a vacant parking lot in front of what looked like an abandoned warehouse. Scar Face cut the engine and a dreadful silence fell over the three of you. The doors unlocked a few seconds later, both men getting out of the car. Not Scar Face immediately opened up your door, stepping aside when Scar Face rounded the vehicle and pointed a gun at you. Your back went rigid in the seat instantly, your eyes dropping down to the barrel of it.

“Get out,” he ordered.

Hands fumbling nervously, you unbuckled your seatbelt and slid out of the back seat. The cold metal of the gun was instantly at the back of your head, sick churning in your stomach at the feel of it.

“Walk,” he ordered next.

You followed behind Not Scar Face as he headed into the abandoned warehouse. Two other armed men were inside already, greeting your two kidnappers with nods of their heads. Eyes shifting behind them, you noticed a metal table and two metal chairs set up. The barrel of the gun dug into the back of your head, urging you forward.

“Sit,” Scar Face demanded.

Nervously you headed towards one of the chairs, your legs feeling like they were about to give out. You slowly sunk into the metal chair, adrenaline and fear coursing through you. Scar Face lowered into the other chair, resting the gun on the table and training it right on your chest. You felt like you could barely breathe.

“Now,” Scar Face began, the three men standing behind him armed with guns and just as intimidating, “I want you to start talking. What do you know about Daredevil? Who is he?”

Your mouth immediately went dry. “What?” you asked, taken aback.

Scar Face leaned forward along the table, eyes narrowing. “Who is Daredevil? We know he protected you once before from Figureroa’s men. We know he has a soft spot for Bulletin journalists. You clearly know him.”

“I–I have no idea who he is,” you said earnestly. “He showed up out of nowhere that night he saved me. I’ve never seen him since, I swear!”

“I’m not buying that,” Scar Face told you. “Now I know you’ve been looking into Wayland. And I know he’s been causing us quite a bit of trouble lately. Clearly the two of you are working together. And Backman would love nothing more than if we brought him his head."

“No, we’re–we’re not working together!” you pushed, eyes wide.

Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest you thought it would give out. You weren't here for an interview with Backman you quickly realized–you were the bait for Matt.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” you urged, panic flooding you knowing Matt would walk in on a trap. "I'm just a journalist!"

“Ugh, come on!” one of the men ground out behind Scar Face. “Just shut her up. We can use her to try to lure that asshole for now. And if he doesn’t show, then we can start with the questions.”

Scar Face’s jaw tightened as he studied you closely. You couldn’t hide the way your body was shaking in the metal chair, especially at the mention of questions–you didn't think they would just be talking to you. Slowly, he lowered the gun to the table, turning and rising up to his feet as he ran his hands over his face. Your eyes immediately dropped down to the loaded gun sitting across the table from you, heart pounding so loud in your own ears you couldn’t hear anything else.

Would it be possible for you to take that gun and try to shoot your way out of here? Was that your way out of this?

________

“Oh man, I could totally use a drink at Josie’s after that,” Foggy complained beside Matt, running a hand over his face. “I mean that witness testimony took four hours!”

“Yeah,” Matt chuckled, nodding his head. “I’m pretty sure that fried my brain, too, Fog.”

Matt adjusted his briefcase over his shoulder with his free hand, the other holding Foggy’s arm as Foggy led him down the courthouse steps.

“You want to call your future fiance and see if she wants to come out?” Foggy teased, nudging Matt’s shoulder with his own.

Matt grinned in response, laughing lightly. “I can see if she’s available tonight, yeah,” he agreed.

"Ahh!" Foggy exclaimed loudly, pointing an accusatory finger at Matt. "So you don't deny she may be the future Mrs. Murdock!"

Still laughing lightly and shaking his head, Matt slipped his phone out of his dress pant’s pocket with his free hand. For a moment his finger felt around the edge of the phone before holding down the button to turn it back on. Seconds later he heard the buzz of the device as it kicked back to life.

"Your silence is really saying a lot, man," Foggy pointed out, leading Matt down the sidewalk and back towards the office.

"Is it?" Matt shot back, shooting Foggy a playful grin.

The vibration and beep of Matt's phone drew his attention back to the device. That notification meant he had a new, unheard voicemail. Brows furrowing, he navigated his phone, pushing the button to bring up his voicemail. He held the phone to his ear as Foggy shot him a curious glance.

"What's up?" he asked Matt. "You look confused."

"She sent me a voicemail," Matt told him, speaking over the automated voice that was reading off the name that had called and the time the message had been left. "But she knew we had court. She never calls and leaves messages when we do."

"Maybe it was important?" Foggy suggested.

A frown drew across Matt’s mouth the moment the message began to play. There was a nervous breath and a long pause, something you never did when you left messages. You normally began them with your cheerful or hurried tone. Something wasn't right. And his fear was confirmed the moment he heard your scared voice speaking into his ear.

“Matt, uh, I have a very big problem. There’s two men who just showed up at my office. They’re saying Backman sent a car for me for an interview.”

There was a pause after your words, Matt instantly stopping on the sidewalk at the mention of Backman’s name. Foggy came to a stop, too, shooting Matt a confused look.

"What?" he asked.

But Matt didn't respond, too focused on the sound of your terrified voice.

“I–I don’t think they’re your usual chauffeurs, though. I’m pretty sure one of them has a gun in their suit coat. And I have no idea where they’re going to take me.”

At the mention of a gun, Matt's hand gripped his phone tighter, his entire body tensing. You were in danger and you'd called for help. You'd called for help two hours ago. And he'd been stuck in court while men with guns had taken you. Anger burned in Matt–a burning white hot rage that was sure to quickly consume him.

“It’s only Katy and I at the office. She’s calling the cops when I’m gone. I–I don’t see any other options here, Matt. I have to go with them.”

Matt's heart ached at the shaky exhale he heard you make over the message, his jaw tightening. You were terrified and you needed him and he hadn't been there for you.

“You were right. When guys with guns come after me, I’m not the one who knows how to fight back. You are.”

His heart was thundering in his own ears, almost pounding louder than the sound of your nervous whisper in his ear.

"I–I have to go before they realize what I’m doing.” There was a brief pause before he heard your voice so quiet one last time. “I love you, Matt.”

Tearing the phone from his ear, he slammed his finger on the button to end the message. Matt ripped his hand from Foggy's arm immediately.

"They took her," Matt snarled, enraged.

"What?" Foggy asked, panic flooding his voice. "Who?"

Matt said your name, his voice breaking on it. "Backman took her."

With a growl Matt tore his briefcase strap from over his head, tossing it roughly at Foggy. He fumbled but managed to catch it.

"Matt, what're you doing?" he asked nervously.

"I'm going to find her," he answered, his tone already darkened by the Devil when he spoke. "And so help me if they hurt her I will tear them apart ."

Spinning on his heel, ignoring Foggy's panicked voice calling after him, Matt darted down an alley. Once out of sight, he clambered up a fire escape towards the roof, racing across Hell's Kitchen towards his apartment for his suit. Spurred on by adrenaline and fear, he leapt from roof to roof without a care for himself, only one thing on his mind–he needed to find you.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x fem reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock series #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil x female reader #daredevil x reader #fftd

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everythingpresley · 2 years ago

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Sergeant Presley (Elvis Presley x Reader)

summary: Elvis is in the army and meets reader who is a nurse in Germany.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+)

Author's Note: I couldn't choose which picture to put, he looks sooo cute in both so I used both.

I passed by the beds filled with injured soldiers, checking up on them one by one. No one had intensive injuries so today was okay and not too busy.

“Hi I’m nurse Y/N. What seems to be the problem?” I asked looking down at my chart.

“Nothing.” The soldier replied, I looked up to see that popular singer Elvis Presley lying down on the bed with his hat covering his eyes.

“Then why are you here?” I grumbled, I hated when soldiers tried to waste our time.

He removed the cap off of his face to look at me.

I was taken aback at how blue his eyes are. He’s probably the handsomest man I have ever seen in my entire life. Ocean blue eyes, chiseled face, high cheek bones and the poutiest lips.

His eyes widened slightly and he quickly sat up.

Clearing his throat he spoke “I mean it’s just a little pain right here.” He said pointing at his throat.

I raised an eyebrow, looking at him knowing he wasn’t actually sick but played along.

“Okay.” I said, placing the chart on the bed and walking in front of him where he was now sitting on the edge of the bed.

I placed my hands on his throat, feeling for any inflammation.

He took a deep breath the moment my hands touched his skin, closing his eyes.

“Doesn’t seem to be inflamed but I’ll give you a menthol to suck on. If it gets worse the next few days let me know.” I said grabbing some menthols out of the jar and placing it in his hands.

He nodded still looking at me with wide eyes filled with wonderment.

The next couple of weeks were the exact same, he’d come in, feign being in pain and he’d flirt the entire time. I don’t know if he was trying to get out of duty or if it was something else.

“Y/N!” Nurse Elizabeth called.

“Yeah?” I asked walking up to her.

“Elvis Presley is on bed 6 and he’s requesting for you. Won’t let any other nurse touch him.” She said.

I rolled my eyes, I was already extremely busy.

“Hi Elvis.” I sighed, we were at a first name basis now.

“Hi Y/N.” He grinned.

“What is it now?” I asked with a hand on my hip.

“I fell during drills and I think I hurt my wrist.“

I walked over to him and pressed gently on his wrist.

He hissed a little. This time he was actually injured because I could see some slight bruising.

“Let me wrap it up for you and I can give you a note to sit out the upcoming drills. It’s not broken but you still need to rest it.” I said and grabbed some bandages.

“Anything you say Nurse Y/N.” He grinned again.

I rolled my eyes at him and started wrapping his wrist. I could feel him staring at me the entire time, piercing my skin with those beautiful blue eyes.

“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?” He asked.

“Yes.” I replied, still wrapping his wrist and not looking at him.

He laughed and shook his head “I bet you get it all the time.”

I finished wrapping his wrist and looked at him “Stop flirting with me sergeant.”

“I can’t help it.” He smiled softly.

“You’re good to go.” I replied patting his thigh and leaving to go to the next soldier.

My shift was over after dealing with other patients, I changed out of my nurse outfit and into a little yellow dress and headband walking out of the military base.

“Y/N!” someone called out, footsteps banging heavy on the gravel behind me.

I turned, confused and saw none other than Elvis Presley running after me.

“Are you done with your shift?” He asked, coming to a stop a few inches in front of me.

“Yeah, what are you still doing here?” I asked. I gave him a note so that he could go home and not stay at the military base.

“I was waiting for you.” He replied.

“Why?”

“Because… I wanted to ask you out on a date.” He grinned, his boyish smile.

I smiled softly at him “That’s very sweet Elvis but I’m already going out on a date.”

His smile faltered “Oh.” He said in disappointment “Can I ask with who?”

“Sergeant Cooper.”

He sighed “Well. He’s a lucky guy.”

“Thank you.” I smiled “I have to go but honestly Elvis, any girl would be lucky to go out with you.”

He nodded, shuffling his feet with his hands in his pocket.

“Good night Sergeant.” I stood on my tippy toes and planted a small kiss on his cheek.

He smiled, placing a hand on his cheek where I had kissed him “Good night nurse Y/N.”

I sighed unlocking my front door and walking into my apartment. The date was okay, I didn’t really feel anything for Sergeant Cooper even though I could’ve sworn there was something there a few weeks ago. He was handsome, quiet and sweet but when he kissed me goodnight I felt nothing. I couldn’t help but compare it to kissing Elvis’ cheek. I felt a tingle when my lips landed on his cheek and I can’t begin to imagine what I would feel if I were to kiss his pillowy, pouty lips.

I heard a knock on my door a few minutes later after I had removed my makeup and changed into a robe. I peeked through the peep hole, extremely confused on who would be knocking at my door so late.

I smiled slightly when I saw Elvis standing there in a white t-shirt and black jeans. I’ve never seen him in actual clothes. He looked really cute.

I opened the door and leaned against it “Sergeant Presley, how do you know where I live?”

“I saw you go home one night, it’s not far away from the base.” He smiled, his hands behind his back. He bit his lower lip, his eyes taking me in and landed on my bare legs for a few seconds before he looked at my face again.

“Are you stalking me?” I smirked, taunting him.

“No!”

“I’m kidding Elvis.” I chuckled “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to ask about how your date went.”

“Let’s just say I won’t be going on another date with him.” I replied. He looked up from his shoes and smiled big.

“Well I got you these.” He said moving his hands from behind his back to see a bouquet of sunflowers “I don’t know what your favorite flowers are but I saw these and they reminded me of you. And you remind me of sunshine and happiness.”

I smiled softly “They’re beautiful Elvis.” I took the bouquet from him and sniffed it “Do you want to come in?”

“Yeah.”

I opened the door wider for him to walk in.

I placed the flowers in a vase and brought it over to put it on my coffee table.

“Would you like some wine?”

“Sure.” He replied, siting down on the couch. He was being very shy and quiet, unlike his usual behavior.

“You play guitar?” He asked, spotting a guitar on the corner of my living room.

“Oh no, that’s my brother’s guitar. He gave it to me before I went to Germany and made me promise that I would learn to play by the time I got back to the states.”

“Can I?” He asked, reaching for it. I nodded and walked over to sit on the couch. Elvis picked up the guitar and sat next to me on the couch.

He tuned the guitar and slowly started playing it.

“Treat me like a fool, treat me mean and cruel.” He sang what I recognized as one of his songs “Love Me.”

He was looking down at the guitar while singing and then looked up at me “But love me. Wring my faithful heart, tear it all apart but love me.” He sang softly, staring right into my eyes. His blue eyes piercing my very soul. I gulped feeling my heart starting to beat right out of my chest.

He slowly inched closer to me on the couch continuing to sing the song. He looked down at my lips as he finished singing the song. I licked my lips, doing the same.

“Can I kiss you Y/N?” He whispered.

I nodded and took the guitar to place it on the coffee table. He cupped my cheek and slowly leaned in to capture my lips. I gasped softly feeling the spark ignite from our lips touching. I wrapped my arms around his neck, placing with his hair at the nape of his neck as he deepened the kiss, groaning into my mouth.

“I think I love you.” He whispered over my lips. I pulled back abruptly to look at his face. His eyes widened in a panic and he shook his head “I’m so sorry I-“

I smiled and cupped his cheek “It’s okay. I think I love you too.”

He smiled softly, his eyes shinning with adoration and leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on my lips.

“Tell me honestly, were you ever sick whenever you would come in?” I asked after our little make-out session.

He laughed and shook his head “No, but I needed to see you. It was the best part of my day. Well expect for my wrist I actually injured it.”

I chuckled and rolled my eyes at him.

He reached forward and pushed strand of my hair behind my ear “I thought you were an angel when I saw you. From that moment I knew I had to be with you.”

#elvis presley #austin butler elvis #elvis songs #elvis movie #elvis 2022 #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #austin elvis imagine #austin!elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you #elvis x oc #elvis presley x oc #elvis smut #elvis imagine #austin!elvis smut #austin!elvis fanfiction

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coleskingdom · 9 months ago

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Mine Pt 4

This will be a six part story. This chapter has no smut.

The Forbidden Door meeting

I wake up before Jay, my mind refusing to shut off. I lay there in the early morning light watching him sleep. I’m overwhelmed by how much I’m falling in love with him my chest gets tight at the thought that he might get hurt because of me. A tear falls down my face. Jays eyes open “ Hey, what’s wrong?” Still half asleep, “Nothing”I say and try to smile. Now fully awake “We don’t do that remember” He’s rolls on his side facing me. “So I’m going to ask you again, what’s wrong?” I can tell he’s bracing himself. “ I’m worried you’re going to get hurt because of me.” His hand strokes my face moving a strand of hair, “It won’t be because of you, it’s real but we will all be professionals. Besides I’d bet you’d be cute in a nurses outfit.” I laugh and the tension is broken.

Jays phone rings, “Hey Will, she’s fine why? I don’t think she’s looked at her phone in the past two days. No that’s exactly what happened, yeah I haven’t talked to anyone over there yet. I appreciate it man, I’ll repay you the favor. You’re right an excuse to get Finlay out is a good enough reason. I’ll let her know.” he hangs up. “ Apparently you need to look at your phone, you’ve got a good portion of people worried about you.”

I sigh heavily and pick up my phone, and hand it to Jay. “Please, I can’t right now.” He scrolls through my messages and I can tell he’s deleting the ones that he knew I wouldn’t want to read. “Your dad texts like a psycho.” Handing me back the phone.

I start to read the text out loud

The Bang Bang Brats

“Are you our new mom?”

ELP <3

Tell Jay GOD is ready to join Gold.

Ospreay

Whatever you need it’s yours? I had no clue about your dad and Finlay, next time you decide to get married let a guy know okay. I’m sorry love I wasn’t there for you.

ZSJ

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me Finlay really? Why didn’t you say something, I could’ve done something. You really got a thing for those Bullet Club boys, I warned you about them years ago. I have to say of the lot Jay is the best of them. Be happy love, it’ll all be fine, if you need anything let me know.

“I’m glad I read them”I sighed and smiled. I leaned my head over on Jays shoulder, he put his hand in mine brushing my knuckles. “ I’m glad you did to, it seems you have quite the fan club. Love” in the absolute worst British accent I’ve ever heard, his eyes showing his amusement when I turned to look at him. He kissed me softly, resting his forehead on mine. “We better get ready before, I cancel the meetings and we just stay here. “

We got ready and were downstairs when the first knock came. Matt,Nick, Page, Cole, Kenny Tony and Rocky were all there. Followed by a catering team , who asked where to set up . “ Just put it on the island “ Jay said casually winking at me, as he predicted my face turned pink.

I sat beside him at the table. Everyone else gathered with Tony at the head of one end with Kenny at the other. Jays body tensed as he stares down the table at Kenny. I put my hand on his thigh trying to give him support, he could never let being Kenny’s young boy go, mainly because Kenny insisted on reminding him of it at any chance he had.

Tony started “ Good Morning, I trust everyone had a good evening last night. Thank you all for being here. I was told the result of the private vote was to move forward with a forbidden door program. I’ve spoken with President Tannashi and he agrees that it’s time for the Bullet Club Civil War. The only stipulation is that it can be any member of the club that was current or retired prior to Saturdays incident. We will need rosters from each group and we will be preparing the matches out of interest and fairness. However the main event will be David vs Jay. Loser loses his club, the winner has the right to include or exclude the others current members, but only one club will be recognized after the match. “

A low rumbling went around the table as the words sank in.

Tony slides a contract towards me, “ I’m presenting you both with a talent and employment contract. You will see that the terms of talent are through forbidden door but that the employment offer for you to be in talent relations is a five year deal.You’ve worked hard and you deserve this. However, you will need to be on screen with Jay, I will leave that to the two of you to discuss how and what the presentation is going to be. “ My eyes were as big as saucers, I never wanted to be on screen talent. Jay took my hand under the table and gave it a squeeze.

“Thank you, I don’t know what to say other than thank you.” I said.

Kenny spoke next “ Jay, you really couldn’t let Japan go could you. I left the keys in your hands you had it all but you had to come here you had to bring Bullet Club with you. You’ve had to make your mess my mess. Now you’re trying to be the savior of bullet club because it’s all you have. I don’t even understand why I’m here or what I have to do with any of this. I’m part of the Elite and was part of the version of Bullet Club that brought this whole thing to prominence. The fact that this all over some girl who was making shitty choices because she has Daddy issues. “

With that Jay slid back from the table and yanked Kenny up by his collar. “Say what you want about me, but you keep her out of your mouth. You don’t even realize that your best days are behind you, Ospreay and I both made sure of that, and if I need to I’ll finish it myself. If you want to align with Finlay go ahead, I’ll take on the both of ya. As for now though get the fuck out of my house.”

Matt and Nick got in between both of them. Jay let Kenny go, but dared him to say anything further. “Matt Nick let’s go” Kenny said. “Not this time Kenny. You’ve gone too far.”Matt said regretfully . Kenny looked around the table for support , none of the other men will meet his eyes. I however refused to look away from him my jaw set firm, and hard. Kenny stormed out the front door slamming it behind him.

“He’ll calm down, he’s out injured anyway. He insisted on being here because he’s an EVP. I’m sorry I didn’t expect him to disrespect your home. The fact that you’re prioritizing someone you care about, is a regret he still has and has never gotten over“ Matt said .

“Who have you heard from?” Tony asked changing the subject .

“As for Japan, you really don’t have much support Jay. The War Dogs, Kenta, Owens , House of Torture are all together. GOD said they texted you to let you know that they will be aligning with Gold. You have a lot of support from United Empire and TMDK that have offered to do matches on the road to forbidden door in hopes that they can keep them fatigued. That’s about all you’ve got. “ Rocky said

“ So I need what 10 -12 guys? “ Jay said “Closer to 15 guys I’m afraid.” Rocky said.

“Matt, Have you heard from AJ , Deviit or Cody?”

“ they’re all sitting this out, which numbers wise works better for us. “ Matt confirmed.

“ What about Austin and Bey?” I asked trying to do the math in my head.

Jay picked up his phone “ Hey Chris, I need to know where you are on this whole thing. We’d love to have y’all. Thanks man talk soon.” They’re in . I think we have our numbers..”

“I want Gabe “ Page said abruptly, “he’s been running his mouth too fucking long about me. It needs to be a death match.”

“We want Connor’s and Maloney they keep shitting on our legacy. I’m sick of it. “ Nick added

“ I think Japan would be agreeable to this.” Tony said and Rocky nodding his head.

“ Cole do you have anyone you’d like to take out personally? “ Jay asked

“Coughlin, and if I’ve got to team with page to get to him then that’s what we need to do death match and all. “ Cole not loving the idea of a death match but wanting Coughlin more.

“What about you sweetheart, what do you want out of this?” Jay asked

“ I just want to y’all to come out safe.” I said.

“That’s no fun sweetheart, I mean who do you want to slap, or kick in the balls, something that you get to do on the talent side. “

“My father, and Finlay.” Laughing at the idea.

“Tony you’ve created a monster, I’m afraid . She’s been thinking about this a while. Britt can help her get ring ready..” Cole offered

“I think that’s it for a while guys I’ll get the paperwork to you for signature and review.” Which was the dismissal from Tony.

Everyone stayed a little longer. They wanted to talk about my on screen presentation. “ I never thought I’d be on screen, I was content in the background.” I said. “ Well you’ve been given two contracts from Tony so you’re in. Now it’s about your presentation, you’ll need one move that you can execute well. .” Matt said. “ What’s your favorite move of all time. “ Jay asked“ The Superkick” the other four men answered in unison. Jay looked at me “Seriously?” I shrugged my shoulders "I was an hbk fan what can I say. “

“She actually has a fairly decent one, we’ve worked with her on it before. She wanted Shawn’s so I worked on it with her it’s been a while though.” Cole shrugged “ What style is she going for asked Page, the bullet club bunnies aren’t going to work….” I’m not doing that hell no.” I cut him off abruptly. “ I think I just want a slightly sexy black and gold look. Jeans, heels a tank or bustier. “ I was actually feeling pretty pleased with the idea.

“ You’ll wear my jacket though, we can modify one, you can have either the switchblade or bullet club logo. If you go with the logo I’d like you to wear a golden switch blade necklace. Just on camera.” Jay said. "Now wait a minute, you don’t need for it to look like you own her.” Page said “ I’m okay with it, it’s pretty rock n roll actually. I’d rather look rock n roll than a ring rat, besides bullet club has always been cool. And it’s something we are all doing together. I’m going to go with the gold logo and the necklace. When I’m with everyone and if it’s just Jay and I I’ll have the switchblade logo. I need not to be damsel in distress.” The guys seem to be in agreement and they started working on story lines. I needed a break, so I excused myself.

I found myself a little place on the back porch in a rocking chair that overlooked the property. “ How are you doing Darlin?” Page asked handing me a glass of whiskey

“It’s been a lot, but I’m happy.” I smiled

“So you and Jay huh? “ he questioned

“He and I spent a lot of time together when y’all left for AEW. It was he and I and the new bullet club for a while. we hung out a ton he and I shared an apartment as room mates. It feels right, and honestly I was a little surprised how comfortable this all is. He gets me Adam, when I ran out of the wedding and I was in the car and started having a panic attack, he got me through it like it was the most normal thing in the world. He didn’t bring it up or make me feel shitty about it. I think I’m in love with him.”

Jay was stepping out on the porch, with a blanket.

“I’m gonna head back in, I just wanted to check on you.” as page started to excuse himself. “ Hey Adam, don’t feel like you’ve got to go on my account. I need everyone to understand nothings changed she still needs you guys. Honestly I was bringing her a blanket the wind from the north kicks up and it can get cool quick. “ Jay handed me a blanket and a kiss on the top of the head and disappeared back inside.

“Who the fuck was that guy and what did you do with Jay ?” I just laughed , page took a seat on the wooden steps and looked out. The easy quiet. It’s always been easy to be quiet with him. He broke the silence as the sun started going down, “I’m happy for you. Kenny was out of line and you deserve what all the rest of us have a safe place that feels like home. Matt said he took care of you on the contracts, none of us want you to be obligated to be in a position that you need anyone but yourself.”“Thanks Adam”, he bent down as hugged me.

I followed him back inside realizing he was the last one leaving. As I walked him out Jay came out of the kitchen. “Everything okay? “ he said . “ Yeah, it’s what we do, we sit in silence, sometimes it’s a big conversation, sometimes it’s nothing.Its nice knowing someone is there.” I walked towards him his arms opened and pulled me in.

“So you’re in love me” he said softly, “ I am” I answered back.

I pull back and I’m trying to read his face, “”Are you okay ? I didn’t mean for you to hear that, I’m not trying to…”

“ Sweetheart , that was the best part of my day, I need you to know that. In answer to your question no I’m not okay, Kenny got under my skin again. He’s just a smug son of a bitch. “

I took his hand and led him to the couch I sat down, “ Sit down in front of me. I’m going to take care of you but go ahead and keep talking.” He sat down between my legs and faced the fire in the hearth. I began running my fingers through his hair massaging his scalp. “ He’s always been a dick, he was so mad when I wouldn’t join his club , he couldn’t stand that I wouldn’t bow to the great Kenny Omega. That I could do more outside of his shadow that I didn’t need his approval, I had Okadas. That’s when my game began to take what was his. Today when he started in on you that was it. “ I pull his hair a little bit just enough to break his tension, “That feels good. it’s been along time since someone took care of me. Sure there were women but they all wanted the character, not me. I got to the point I looked forward to the dinners you’d make in that tiny apartment, the way you’d stream terrible television, the way you’d watch AEW studying it, but also buying completely in. “ I move my hand to the back of his neck rubbing the knots out of his neck, he groaned, then continued “ I’ve been in love with you for years. Your selfless nature, your kind heart, the way you’d support and comfort all of us. I loved the way you put the jacket on me before I went out to the ring, the way you’d take care of me when I was injured . You’d listen to me rant, scream and breakdown.” He reached back and took my hands off his neck and turned around kneeling in front of me. “Marry Me, I mean will you marry me?”

I gasped at his words, my brain processing everything he said tears came down my face, “ Yes Jay I will.”

#aew fanfiction #switchblade jay white #jay white imagine #jay white x reader #jay white smut #jay white x you

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zenni-gotcha · 1 year ago

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Hey so how do you think the Lupin gang would deal with a s/o appears like a peaceful and graceful sleeper, but if you sleep next to them and you’re on the side that isn’t against the wall, s/o tends to roll over in their sleep and pushes whoever is there out of the bed roughly and still sleeps through the bang that happens and looks so comfortable while they probably just ruined their boyfriend or girlfriends whole night and if the partner does not get revenge instantly, s/o has no idea what happened and is like “I slept great! :)”. Flip side, if the gang Are sleeping at the wall, s/o rolls over and now they’re a cuddle bug and both get their comfortable sleep. “I haven’t slept that good in ages :)”. if there is no wall and both sides are empty space, good luck 😂. S/o is just very cuddly in sleep, but is a bit rough in trying to cuddle unlike when they’re awake so they end up throwing the person out of bed instead of getting the cuddles. How would the group deal with this? Do they feel dread at the thought of a no wall leaning bed when they see it?

[Hi there! First wanted to start this off by saying thank you for waiting on this! I had a few larger things to finish on some of my other blogs, so it took me a bit to get back to this one. Also thanks for the ask, it was a fun idea to work with :) ]

Lupin- Listen, he might complain about it a little bit, but not too much. He’s almost as bad as you are. This man is almost always bouncing off the wall, and that includes when he’s asleep. So, between the two of you it’s like a kickboxing match every night. However, if there is a night where you both finally couldn’t knock each other off the bed, then he sleeps like a rock and loves waking so close to you.

Jigen- He’s not going to take this lying down. Well, he is because it happens while he’s asleep. But, he will do something back. We all know how grouchy he is most of the time, so imagine how he is when he’s just been woken up by falling off the bed. If the bed is against the wall, he’s going to shove you over so he can lay there and avoid getting knocked off again. If it’s open on both sides he’ll push you off the other side as payback. Either way, if he ends up on the floor then so will you. But, the nights where you do get sleep feel all the more delightful.

Goemon- Here’s the thing, his reflexes are too good, even while he’s asleep, that he just blocks all of the movements that would have knock him off of the bed. Though he never falls off or wakes up completely, he still wakes up exhausted from having to parry the whole night. However, he’s found a way for you both to sleep well even if there isn’t a wall for him to fortify himself against. If he gets you in a bearhug then you can’t move as much and therefore cannot kick him off of the bed. That has the added bonus of already being snuggled up next to you as well.

Fujiko- She might not do anything the night that she falls off the bed, but you better believe that you’ll get it in the morning. Her favorite payback is setting an alarm for about an hour before you’re supposed to be up for the day and then put it right next to your head. You can bet there would be a greater effort on your part to work out a way to not do that again. She’s not totally mean though, and realizes that you can’t really always help moving around so much, and gives you some slack. She does love to sleep close to you, so she makes sure to have the bed against the wall so it can be a pleasant sleep for both of you.

Zenigata- He won’t even realize what happened until the next morning. He sleeps so hard that he won’t even notice hitting the floor. Of course though, his poor back is going to be screaming at him for sleeping in such an odd position on the floor, and he’s going to be miserable. He won’t say anything to you about it though as he wouldn’t want you to think he was upset with you (even if he sort of was). The problem comes with the fact that he feels too boxed in if he sleeps by a wall, so that’s not an option. The best choice is to get a futon so if you do bumb into him it just rolls him over instead of knocking him to land in a weird position. This also means that he can roll back over to hold you a bit easier as well.

#lupin iii x reader #lupin x reader #daisuke jigen x reader #jigen x reader #goemon ishikawa xiii x reader #goemon x reader #fujiko mine x reader #fujiko x reader #koichi zenigata x reader #zenigata x reader

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vilandel · 6 months ago

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Storm of Griffins

Summary It was bound to happen. With that thunderstorm outside, Vanessa and Nozel aren't surprised that their daughters rather want to sleep with their parents, secure in mamas and papas embrace.

A/N @kalolasfantasyworld, I just realized that we both have our own ways to call Nozels children, you have Birdies and I have Griffins 💘 Wrote this today for some fluff, for domestic Nozessa with their four daughters and to show Nozel as a father 🦅💜

Ao3 link

♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣

Vanessa touched her baby’s tiny nose a bit, but Cassandra wouldn’t wake up. Nothing seemed to wake her up, despite the loud thunderstorm outside. It was quite fascinating, especially that none of her other daughters had that deep of a sleep when they were babies.

Covering the silver-haired baby with a blanket, Vanessa turned towards her husband, who was standing at the window, observing the thunderstorm.

“Quite the spectacle, isn’t it, honey?”

Nozel just nodded, without turning around. Since he was already ready for bed, he was only wearing his pyjama pants, leaving his upper body naked. Oh, Vanessa didn’t complained about that, on the contrary. Admiring Nozels not buff but well-defined muscles and imagining those toned arms around her was something she got never tired about. But she couldn’t allow herself to be thirsty, since their youngest daughter was present.

“And she really is still asleep?” Nozel finally asked as he turned around. Gosh, he looked so good with his hair down falling over his shoulders, fluffy, thick and silky, his bangs slightly falling over his eyes, unbraided.

“Don’t worry, this little one has the deepest sleep I ever saw in a baby,” Vanessa smiled while gesturing at Cassandras sleep basket on their bed. “She won’t be afraid of thunderstorms, I’m certain of that.”

“This one is rather heavy, though.”

“Still, Cassandra won’t be afraid. With that, she is more like Nymphea. You shouldn’t be surprised though if Lavinia will run into our bedroom in a few minutes. Maybe Valentina too, but she at least has her twin sister.”

Nozel nodded, while sitting down next to his wife on the bed. A soft smile appeared on his lips as he softly caressed the baby’s cheek. Cassandra didn’t woke up, but a happy baby smile shortly appeared on her face, her dolphin plushie next to her.

Vanessa sighed happily. Cassandra had definitely be a surprise baby. Three daughters was already a blessing for Nozel and her. Not to mention that she had needed to convince her husband a bit to have Lavinia.

Only a bit, though. Nozel enjoyed fatherhood more than he would ever admit. They had feel blessed with Nymphea, Valentina and Lavinia, feeling that their little family was now complete.

But then, Vanessa got pregnant again. A fourth baby had been on the way. A surprise baby, no denying about that. A shock, yes, but more a happy surprise than a reason to worry. Vanessa and Nozel had embraced it, even though they were determined to not have more than four children.

Unlike what most believed, especially the Black Bulls and their bets, it had been another girl instead of a boy. It didn’t matter to Vanessa and Nozel, Cassandra had been another blessing, just like her sisters before her. She was also wilder than their other daughters, when she wasn’t asleep that is.

Their door opening brought Vanessa back to reality. Just one second later, their three year old daughter Lavinia run towards the bed, holding her favourite plushie tightly in her arms. The little barn owl with the pink witch hat Vanessa had made for her on Lavinias first birthday. How time flies by…

Lavinia tried to climb on her parents bed, but sadly was still to tiny for that, her white puffy nightgown with the pink hearts was also a bit too big for her still and she was holding her plushie. Nozel helped her get on and Lavinia immediately went halfway into hiding under her parents blanket.

“Nia, sweetie, is it so scary for you?” Vanessa asked kindly, while she stroked her daughters rosewood coloured hair. She smiled while doing so, Lavinias might have her hair colour, but it was as soft and thick like her father’s.

“Can’t sleep, too scary,” the little girl mumbled, holding her plushie.

“It is just a thunderstorm, Lavinia,” Nozel said, with such a comforting voice that it made Vanessas heart melt. “As long as you are her with us, in this palace, nothing will happen to you.”

“What about monsters?”

“What monsters?”

“Uncle Zora said that when there are storms, there are monsters coming out to scare us.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes. Typical Zora, always trying to be a very cool uncle. But she really should have a talk with him, Lavinia was after all a very shy little girl and for now still easy to scare.

“Was Luck nearby when your uncle talked about those storm monsters?” Nozel asked.

“Yes, papa.”

“Then he was probably talking about Luck, not some storm monsters.”

“Oh. True. Uncle Magna also says that uncle Luck can be like a monster sometimes.”

Vanessa smiled. Oh, she really preferred that than Zora scaring her baby girl because he tried to be a cool uncle.

“But storms are still scary.”

“If you want, you can stay with us and your little sister tonight, Lavinia. So you won’t be alone.”

Vanessa couldn’t help but smile brightly at her husband. Does he realize what a wonderful father he was? He was so worried to end up like his own jerk of a father, he who thought that because of his past mistakes, he would never become a loving parent… But Nozel became a parent like his mother was.

His fatherly side was certainly one of Vanessas favourite traits of him.

The next moment, the door to their chamber opened again and their eight year old twin daughters entered, so adorable in their lavender nightgowns. Valentina was behind her sister, clinging onto her while holding a black cat plushie tightly. Nymphea was more calm, guiding her twin towards the bed, her eagle plushie under her arm.

“Look, Nia. Your two big sisters are now also coming, so that you won’t be alone in the storm,” Vanessa smiled as she caressed Lavinias head, while Nozel helped the twins getting on the bed. Valentina immediately went on her father’s lap and put the blanket above her head. Nozel hold her immediately, giving her a comforting embrace and stroked her hair. Valentina had hair just like Noelle and Acier, but in a brighter shade of rosewood than Vanessas. In the sunlight, she even had some silver highlights, it was truly gorgeous to look at.

“Tina couldn’t sleep,” Nymphea explained calmly, just like Nozel. “And she couldn’t stop moving. Especially when a lightning was seen. So, I brought her here. She only stops moving when one of you is holding her.”

“Good job, little water lily,” Vanessa giggled, while caressing her oldest daughters hair. Unlike her twin, Nymphea had silver hair like her father – with pink highlights in the sun – but wavy and slightly curly like her mother.

“I didn’t want to come!” Valentina protested weakly, coming from out of the blanket for a moment. “I don’t want Lavinia and Cassandra to see me scared, I’m their big sis, I have to be brave!”

Vanessa couldn’t help but giggle at the seriousness. Valentina secretly wanted to come to her parents, but it was true that she wanted to be brave for her little sisters. Currently, she was the most daring of her daughters. Let’s see how Cassandra will grow up.

“Oh, Tina, sweetie, you are very brave and I’m sure that your little sisters know that.”

“Valentina, it is okay to be scared. It is when you can be brave. Sometimes, it takes a lot of courage to admit to be scared.”

“Really, papa?”

“Really. Trust me little one, I know what I’m talking about.”

He really did. More than their daughters even know yet. Vanessa smiled at Nozel and took his hand.

Nozels words seemed to have calm down Valentina a bit. At least, until the next thunder, making her cling to Nozel and to her plushie with fierce.

“It’s okay, big sis, it’s okay,” Lavinia whispered, while still trembling, but brave enough to take Valentinas hand.

“Our baby sister is still asleep, it seems,” Nymphea commented, while looking into the basket with a calm fascination. The resemblance with Nozel was sometimes really obvious, even when she was still a baby. It had irritated a lot of the Bulls back then. And make Yami laugh a lot.

“Really?”

Forgetting their fear of thunderstorms for a moment, Valentina and Lavinia moved a bit to look into the sleep basket. The vision of their little baby sister, sleeping so profoundly while it was so loud outside, seemed to soothe them a bit.

“Cassie is very brave,” Lavinia whispered. She still had some difficulties to say Cassandras full name. Vanessa admitted that it wasn’t the easiest one, but it had been one of hers and Nozels favourite.

“I bet she is going to be afraid of nothing,” Valentina added with pride. Ah, how cute she was being proud of her baby sister.

“I don’t doubt that she will be brave, just like you and your sisters,” Nozel replied with a smile. “But she will be afraid of something as well. Maybe not of thunderstorms like you and Lavinia, but of other things.”

“Like Nymphea is afraid of mosquitos?”

“I have an excellent reason to be afraid of them.”

“Papa, mama, are you also afraid of things?”

“Of course we are, sweetie,” Vanessa giggled. “Papa and I are afraid of various things. Of simple things like you, for example I don’t like spiders. But we are also afraid of things that are more adult stuff. You’re too young yet to know such things.”

“I’m not young, I’m eight, that is old!” Valentina protested!”

“But still too young to have a grimoire,” Nymphea replied calmly. Sounding so much like Nozel. Vanessa couldn’t help but giggle, even more so as she the look in her husband’s eyes as he glanced at Nymphea. A mix of pride and irritation.

Valentina was about to reply when another lightning, followed by loud thunder, cut through the sky. She and Lavinia remembered their fear of storms and both girls dived under the blanket again. Cassandra continued to sleep, while Nymphea was completely unbothered. She was more occupied to stroke her eagle plushie, as if it was invited to some gala and needed to have neat feathers.

Nozel sighed with compassion, before he took Valentina and Lavinia firmly into his arms. The two girls seemed to calm down a bit, hold by their father, while they had a firm grip on their respective plushies.

Vanessa felt her heart melt again at the vision. The most loving father she knew… Okay, she was biased and she loved him deeply, but it was a fact that Nozel was a very loving and very caring father. He could be unsure about it as much as he want, but actions spoke stronger than doubts. Just seeing him like this with Valentina and Lavinia was proof enough.

Smiling happily, Vanessa turned towards Nymphea. “What do you think, little Water Lily? Do you want to cuddle with mama and your eagle friend?”

Nymphea might be the most proper out of her girls, but she never hesitated to cuddle. She got that side from her, that was certain. Nymphea only nodded and moved a bit to make herself comfortable on Vanessas lap. Vanessa pulled her tightly against herself, diving her nose into her daughters silver waves. Just like Nozel, Nymphea had a soft lavender scent. But hers was mixed with a sweet water lily smell.

Which was rather ironic and normal, she was named after those flowers. Who also were the favourites of the late Acier Silva.

“You can sleep with us tonight, little hatchlings,” Nozel said, his voice soft and warm. It was so clear how much he loved his daughters. “There is nothing to be afraid of. Your mother and I are here for all four of you.”

“Will you be there when we’re wake-wake again?”

“Yes, Lavinia. You have my word.”

“Thank you, papa.”

Cradled in his embrace, Valentina and Lavinia soon fell asleep, just as deeply as Cassandra. Nymphea took a bit longer, but Vanessa felt that her eldest daughter was slowly falling back into slumber.

She still whispered softly, with a yawn, “Don’t tell them yet, but I like thunderstorms. I love to think that the noises are either dragons fighting in the sky or giants having battles nearby.”

And she fell asleep as well.

“Do you think we should have a closer look at her reading?”

“Honey, she loves fairy tales and she is already clever enough to recognize what kind of books she can read or not yet.”

Vanessa expected a reply, but Nozel only nodded. His eyes were pensive, but caring, looking at his daughters. And at her.

“Is something, honey.”

“No. I just feel so blessed to have the five of you in my life. Nymphea, Valentina, Lavinia, Cassandra and you… you mean the world to me.”

Vanessa smiled, her heart melting again. She knew that it was never easy for Nozel put this into words, even today it wasn’t always easy. But she also that it came from his heart.

“For me as well, Nozel.”

She kissed him good night and both parents fell asleep as well, their four wonderful daughters slumbering around them. This was their family.

#Black Clover #Black Clover Fanfiction #Black Clover Next Gen ♣️💘#My Writing ☘️♣️#Fluffmay #Black Clover OC #My Black Clover OC ☘️#Vanessa Enoteca #Nozel Silva #Cassandra Silva #Lavinia Silva #Valentina Silva #Nymphea Silva #Nozel x Vanessa #Nozessa #Griffins #Just parents cuddling with their daughters during a thunderstorm 💜

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noforkingclue · 2 years ago

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No Questions Asked (Laszlo Kreizler x reader) Chapter 8

No Questions Asked tag list: @fandom-lover-4, @ajeff855, @booksarekindaneat, @greeneyedblondie44

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

You enjoyed the early morning. When the city was just waking up and everything was peaceful. You perched yourself on the edge of the table as you looked at the chalk board. Theories were scribbled down and you frowned at one particular one. The word ‘sewer’ was underlined several times and you pushed yourself off the table and walked toward the board.

“Miss Howard won’t appreciate you breaking into her office so early in the morning.”

You looked over your shoulder and saw Laszlo standing in the doorway. He put his hat on the table and you looked back at the chalk board.

“And what would she say if she saw you here.”

“I was merely passing.”

“Passing, right,” you let out an unimpressed noise, “And thank you for the advice- next time I break in I’ll try to do it at a more socially acceptable time.”

You raised a hand and wiped off the lines under ‘sewer’. Your eye twitched at the steady footsteps approaching you.

“You don’t think it’s important.” Laszlo stated

“No.”

“Why?”

“It’s a convenient place to dump a body,” you said, “Who would want to go searching in a sewer?”

“So it was an accident that the body washed up.”

“I think you know the answer to that already.”

“Which raises the question- how many more bodies is down there.”

You glanced over and gave Laszlo and bitter smile.

“Why do you think I don’t want to go down there.”

“You’ve had enough of death.”

You stiffened at Laszlo’s words and pursed your lips. You lowered your hand as Laszlo continued,

“What was it like.”

“Hmm?”

“Whitechapel. That is where you’re from.”

“It is. But I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“The Rip-“

“I was a child at the time,” you interrupted harshly, “I didn’t know what was going on. No one did. The police were fucking useless but what can you expect?”

“You’re still bitter about it.”

“You expect anything less?” you turned around and glared at him, “You don’t know the sense of panic and mistrust that was built up. And people like you,” you sneered at him, “In your fancy houses and education thinking you know everything that went on. I bet you think you know who he is just by sitting in a room, on the other side of the world, just by reading newspapers.”

You ran a hand over your hand and had to force yourself to stop shaking. You knew that it was unwise to let yourself get so emotional in front of someone like Laszlo. He was too smart, too unsettling. You could give yourself away if you weren’t too careful. Everything you had built up would come crashing down around you.

“Which is why you left.”

“You don’t know what it was like. Wasn’t easy getting here but here is better than there.”

The door suddenly banging open caused both of you to jump. The strange spell that had been cast over the two of you was shattered. John stood in the doorway and a look of confusion passed over his face.

“Didn’t know you would be here, Doc.” He said

“You looking for Howard?” you asked

“Laszlo actually.”

“And your first thought was to come here?” you asked, raising your eyebrows

“I was told he was coming here.”

“What’s the matter John?” asked Laszlo

John took a deep breath and ran a hand over his face.

“Another body has been found.” He said

#fanfiction #The Alienist #reader insert #Laszlo Kreizler #laszlo kreizler x reader

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bananna25 · 1 year ago

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Can You Hear Me? 1 - Birthday

When someone turns 17, they are able to find their soulmate. Soulmates can communicate telepathically and although they are not “required” to fall in love, 90% of them do. When your soulmate is younger than you, you simply won’t get a response. Same as if they’re dead, which if you think about it, kind of sucks. If your soulmate is in fact younger than you, then you’ll hear from them when they come of age. Might be months, years, decades if you're into that. Kidding.

It’s been a week since you turned 17 and you still hadn’t tried to contact your soulmate yet. There were many reasons for this. Numero 1, you didn’t think you were ready for a relationship. Again, not all soulmates turn out to be lovers, and ironically, you wished yours would. If you weren’t ready, you didn’t want to blow it. Number 2, you really don’t like talking to people. Specifically strangers. Until you mastered the art of ordering a chicken sandwich on the phone, there was no way you would be contacting your soulmate. There’s a couple other reasons but those are the main two.

Mei’s been bothering you about it but you claimed it was because you were waiting for her to turn 17 so you could reach out together. “The least I could do as your best friend.” She knows that you’re worried about doing it alone, so she drops it.

“The rest of the class period is for you to get a head start on the homework due in two days. Please use your time wisely,” Mr. Taguchi announced to the rest of the students. “I will leave the previous math problems on the board as examples. If you need help, come to my desk.”

You leaned your head against the window and gazed out the glass. It was the end of the day, the last thing you wanted to do was homework. While the class buzzed around you, you watched a couple of the 3rd years move around the courtyard collecting... soil samples? When you took a closer look, you recognized a familiar head of messy brown hair and couldn’t help but stare as he walked around. You snapped out of it when a girl with black hair bent down next to him, a little too close.

"Are you okay?" Mei asked, tapping you on your head that was now buried in your hands.

"Yea, I just hate it when a more attractive person has a crush on the same person I do," you groaned, looking up at her with a rather bored expression on your face.

"She's right," Inko added. "It's like performing in a talent show and finding out that Beyonce is going before you."

Somehow, the way she worded it made you feel even worse. ”Why would you say that?”

Yes, you had a crush on Oikawa Tooru. You’re not sure when it happened or why but you had grown a liking to him. He was definitely attractive and that might've had something to do with why you liked him. But the way he acted is what really caught your attention. Sure, he could be a jerk sometimes, all high and mighty, but then he would turn around and act like a complete cinnamon roll. His childish side was really cute.

You spared a glance out the window again and saw Oikawa holding up one of the vials of soil and looking at it, a pout spread across his lips. Adorable.

As Inko and Mei talked back and forth about which anime was better and why, you doodled in your notebook, covering old notes with ladybugs and cats.

“What do you mean you haven’t watched Inuyashiki?” Inko gasped. “I recommended it to you months ago!”

“Yeah, along with 20 other things, it’s in my watchlist. I’ll get there eventually,” Mei grumbled and blew her bangs out of her face. “Bet you haven’t watched A World Only God Knows yet.”

“Actually I was planning on starting it today. You just reminded me.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“What about Avatar The Last Airbender? I told you to watch that one too.”

“That’s not an anime.”

“No, but you should still watch it.”

You colored in one of your cat’s faces, leaving the eyes and the inside of the ears white. A sudden chill ran down your spine and you turned around to see one of the kids behind you had opened a window. Even the slightest gust of wind gave you goosebumps and you returned to your drawings, shivering a little.

Sounds from outside carried in and every now and then your eyes would flick to the window to catch a glimpse of Oikawa. You had never talked to him before, at least, not exchanged dialogue. You didn’t want to just go and strike up a conversation either. He was a handsome, popular 3rd year and you were a quiet 2nd year. You didn't talk to anybody, let alone the captain of the boys volleyball team. You kept to admiring him from afar, even if it could be annoying at times.

The 3rd years had all gathered around the teacher, probably about to head back inside. Oikawa was poking Iwaizumi in his side and clearly not paying attention to what the teacher was saying. Iwa would slightly push him but Oikawa came right back.

Another gust of wind hit you and you put your pencil down.

“I’mma get my jacket from my locker, I’ll be back,” you informed the bickering girls in front of you and went up to Mr. Taguchi to ask for a hall pass. He gave it to you and you headed straight for your locker.

It was warmer in the halls, considering none of the windows had been opened, which was nice. Since the math classroom wasn’t far from your locker, you were able to get your jacket and head back quickly.

While rewinding your steps, you looked out the window and noticed that the 3rd years weren’t there anymore. That could only mean…

You first noticed the teacher's head, rising from the staircase. Followed by the rest of his body and the students. They were on the opposite end of the hallway which meant that you needed to walk by all of them in order to get back to class. The thought of turning around and staying in the bathroom until they were gone, or just pretending like you forgot something in your locker passed through your head. But it was too late. You had made eye contact with the teacher.

She smiled and you gave a small smile back, bowing slightly and keeping your head down to avoid looking at the students. You almost made it through when the sound of a girl laughing echoed through your ears and you looked up curious. It was a group of girls giggling about something on a phone. You were about to look down again when you caught a boy staring at you. He had really short, light brown hair and small eyes. You recognized him as the new 3rd year transfer that you had helped earlier that year. You had found him looking lost in the hallways and searching for the robotics room. You talked for a little while showing him the way and learned that his name was Hanamaki (I know he didn’t transfer originally but for the sake of the plot, let it be).

The boy smiled and waved, you gave a small smile and waved back to not be rude. He then turned to one of the boys next to him and started chatting with him, the boy throwing a glance in your direction. Almost instantly, you moved your eyes elsewhere and noticed Oikawa a couple feet in front of you. He stood behind Iwaizumi with his head resting on his back, arms just swinging underneath him. His mouth was moving but you couldn’t hear a word he was saying. But it couldn’t have been that important since Iwa kept a straight face the entire time.

As you were looking away, you noticed Iwa’s eyes flick to yours but you didn’t meet his gaze and instead hurriedly put your sweatshirt on. You zipped it up to your chin and put your hands in your pockets, glad to have finally made it past the herd of students and suddenly feeling the overwhelming desire to go home.

***

The music club is a relatively quiet place. There are only 7 other people in the club besides you and Mei, but that makes practice much easier because there aren’t as many people hogging instruments. It is mostly independent too, which you appreciated. You entered the room and dropped your bags by the door. Mei was already there, along with another girl and boy. You hadn’t really had a full conversation with either of them, and you weren’t planning to.

“Inko left these forms for the school camping trip before she went to the art room,” Mei approached you with a couple papers in hand. “Did you wanna go?”

“I don’t know. Sleeping in a tent with my classmates doesn’t exactly appeal to me.” You commented but took the permission slips anyway, briefly scanning them. The activities planned looked fun but not if you had to do them with strangers. “Are you going?”

“I might. If you or Inko will, I’ll go.”

Seems like she had the same idea in mind. “Inko probably will. Didn’t she go last year?”

“Yeah, she did. And she came back with a boyfriend.”

You giggled, remembering Inko and the boy she had dated for less than a week before dumping. “They didn’t last very long.”

Truthfully, he wasn’t a bad guy, you thought he was cute and he absolutely adored Inko, but she wasn’t having it.

“What happened to him anyway?” you asked Mei and strode over to the empty piano bench. “I don’t think I’ve seen him at all this year.”

“I wanna say he moved cities…? But I dunno,” Mei followed you and leaned against the wall.

You pressed a couple of the keys, playing a quick melody. “When do I have to turn the permission slip in?” Not that asking would help, you'd forget it in an hour.

“A month. Just don’t forget. They don’t accept them late.”

You nodded and stole a glance at the guitar next to Mei. It was a newer addition to the club and you took it upon yourself to learn it, but it was a lot harder than the piano. Then again, the first instrument you learn always seems the easiest.

“Did you want me to pass you that guitar?” Mei noticed you staring at the acoustic and gave it to you. “You’re really set on learning every instrument in this room, aren’t you?”

”Mmhm. But it's making my fingers sore..”

“You’ll get used to it once you build calluses. Maybe if you’re confident enough by the end of the year you can play in the competition.”

“You’re funny,” you said sarcastically. “That’s the other guy’s spotlight. I would never.”

Both of you threw a glance towards one of the other club members riffing away in the corner. For the past 2 years he has played as the electric guitarist in the music competition. Even if you did practice all year to perform, he would still be better.

“Maybe he’ll get sick or mysteriously injured,” Mei offered.

You only shook your head and laughed. “Now Mei, let's not doom the poor child."

"But you said you would participate this year!"

"Yeah, I did. But I was planning on just submitting a song or something. I don't actually have to perform."

"But that's not the same…"

"Hey, if a spot opens up I'll volunteer… maybe," you set the field trip forms on the piano and laid the guitar across your lap. “Do you want to play a song with me?”

“As long as you don’t outshine my vocals again,” Mei sat across from you on a cajon and smacked it. "If you don't end up performing you better have written one bomb ass song."

***

Music club ended about the same time as volleyball practice. Because of that, you often see Oikawa everyday afterschool. The music room was farther away from the school entrance than the gym, so when you were walking to the subway station, you basically followed him for a block. To make it even better, you guys took the same train. Your station was 1 stop early, but you were still in the same car for at least 9.

The doors closed behind you and you took the closest open seat, which happened to be across from Oikawa’s. You sat down without looking at him and pulled your backpack onto your lap, taking your earbuds out and putting one in your ear. The ride was at least 15 minutes and you wanted to be distracted from the crowds around you.

A couple walked into the train, hand in hand, and for a split second, you were tempted to say something to your soulmate. There’s no way you could mess up a simple “hey” right? But as quickly as that thought came, you pushed it away. Absolutely not. You told Mei you were gonna wait for her and even though she doesn’t really care, you were gonna stay true to your word.

Your stop came and you got up, glancing at Oikawa. He was slouching with his feet outstretched, sports bag beneath the seat, hood over his head and covering his chin. His phone was in his hands and he looked like he was in a very intense game. Your lips twitched at the sight and looked away before he noticed you staring.

The doors opened and you got off. You looked back but with the other people crowding to get on, you couldn’t make him out. It’s okay, you’ll see him tomorrow anyway.

***

A month flew by quickly.

The deadline for the camping trip permission slip was today. Mei continued to hag you but said her parents wouldn’t let her go because she had too many missing assignments. The only way they would let her leave was by raising her grades, but knowing Mei, she didn't love camping nearly enough to commit to more school work. And if she wouldn't go, neither would you.

Today also happened to be Mei’s birthday and the first thing she asked was if you were ready to talk to your soulmate.You lied.

“Yeah, you?”

“Absolutely. On the count of three. Ready?”

Your eyes widened. You didn’t even get a minute of preparation. “W-wait! Gimme a couple seconds..”

She gave you the side eye. “You’ve had more than enough time. Were those past couple weeks not enough for you?”

“Yeah, yeah, just hold on,” you took a deep breath in and gripped the straps to your backpack. It’s only a big deal if you make it a big deal. And if you’re lucky, they’ll be younger than you and not respond.

“...You good?”

You nodded. “One…”

“Two… three!”

Your mind went blank. What should you say? Suddenly, a simple “hi” wasn’t gonna cut it for you. You looked at Mei, she had her eyes closed. The first thing you say should be romantic, memorable. These would be the first words you would say to your soulmate ever. This was important, so why can't you think of anything?I can do this… You sucked in one more breath of air and closed your eyes.

“OMG I heard him!!” Mei bounced up and down excitedly. “Did yours say anything?”

You opened your eyes and looked at her. How did she do that so fast? “No, not yet..” That wasn’t completely a lie.

“Aww that’s okay, maybe he’s not old enough. That gives you more time, right?”

She’s right. But you didn’t need more time. Your adrenaline was already pumping and you just wanted to get it over with. And if you didn’t do it now, you would feel like a chicken. And that couldn’t happen.

Mei grabbed your hand and started pulling you with her past the school gate. “You’ll never guess who my soulmate is. Oddly enough, I don’t think I’ve even met him properly yet.”

Screw this. Can you hear me?

…

Yes, I can hear you!

________________________

I’m going to attempt to keep a steady update flow but life happens so we’ll see

#oikawatooru haikyuu fluff ff fanfiction yn volleyball soulmates oikawa

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