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thera-daydreams · 3 years ago

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PLUS ONE

》 A TRESE TWOSHOT 《

[Maliksi x Reader]

📝 Summary: In which your beloved best friend snatches you from your apartment at dawn asking you to be his plus one for his cousin's wedding. Unbeknownst to the clueless you, everything is just going according to Maliksi's ultimate masterplan. With the help of friends and family, the Prince of the Tikbalang finally gets the girl he's been longing for. And oh, Señor Armanaz gets his dream daughter-in-law and the promise of grandchildren within the year.

📌 Warning: May contain some slight NSFW for spicy suggestiveness and cussing. No smut or anything super SPG—this girl can't write that for her life—but just be prepared. It's Maliksi we're talking about. We've got friends-to-lovers, obliviousness, pining, fluff, and a tikbalang simp. Figure it out. 😃

(word count: 7,454) ♥︎ Part Two: ?

》 AUTHOR'S NOTE 《

Not an Inday spinoff, but a lengthy oneshot in celebration of this blog getting 90 followers. Just ten more to 100, yay! Thank you so much for the love and support, everyone. I also promised that I'll be making this brainrot that @binibiningbabaylan and I have fangirled over a few days ago (find the original post here) when I finished the latest chapter of Inday. Here it is! 🥰

Before I forget, I was also inspired by the cute fic made by @crispybasil titled "Sunshowers" and the "Trese Boys As Things My Guy Friends Do" made by the amazing @smolla-than-a-bug (I bow down to your wonderful works in the Trese fandom). I definitely see Maliksi to be the type to go on spontaneous roadtrips and be the boyfriend to drive you around eveeeerywhere (while also driving you crazy). 🚘

There are also some songs mentioned throughout this work. You should probably listen to them while reading for the full experience. Ending was somewhat rushed but eh, I'm too exhausted and I've rewritten it too many times. Also, if someone makes some actual tikbalang smut, tag me please. Anyways, enjoy! 💕

The way it all started was hilarious. Absolutely fucking hilarious. It happened like a blur. Literally. One second, you were snoozing in your bed. The next? You had a seatbelt on in the shotgun seat of a sophisticated-looking car. Your brain didn't even get to process it yet.

"... So let me get this straight," you grumbled, still half-asleep from your sleep marathon. You just finished a hugely successful project at work yesterday, got promoted, and wanted to make up for the restless nights you spent overtime in the office. Of course you were irritated from being disturbed. You were on vacation leave for two entire weeks, originally planning to go into temporary isolation by deactivating your social media accounts and reserving a beach cabana for yourself in Batangas.

Well, turns out, you weren't going to Batangas anytime soon. All because your unreasonably spontaneous bestfriend of ten hectic years stole you from your apartment at 2AM. Was this considered kidnapping? Was this him just being more in touch with his tikbalang side, taking unsuspecting women in their sleep and leading them to their inevitable death? (He was going over the speed limit, so it was a valid thought.) Will wearing your shirt inside-out save you today? Lord, masyado ka pang pagod para mag-isip ngayon.

"Go on."

"You abducted picked me up in the middle of the night because you want me to be your plus one at your cousin's wedding in Tagaytay?"

"Yup. And technically, the venue is right on the outskirts of Cavite going to Tagaytay," he corrected you as a matter-of-factly.

"Same thing, whatever," you huffed tiredly. "Your cousin's wedding is at 6AM today. In a few hours. In four hours."

"Uh-huh."

You groaned exasperatedly, "Mal naman, eh! You didn't even let me bring anything. Could've at least given me a heads-up a few hours ago. I'm practically emptyhanded right now save for my phone! Sinungaling ka, you said this was just a normal midnight drive—not a freaking wedding!"

The Prinsipe ng Mga Tikbalang, son of the Great Stallion, heir to the Armanaz herd, and the Top Drag Racer of C-5 Expressway—if that was even one of his Game of Thrones-like titles—grinned as he continued driving beside you. He let you continue ranting in the passenger seat while he mulled over his ultimate masterplan that would change his entire life later on. He was a spur-of-the-moment kind of guy, so all this wasn't his thing. But for you? He'll make plans, alright.

"Wala man lang akong dinalang masusuot o kahit konting makeup para maging presentable sa harapan ng buong pamilya mo," you exclaimed, in absolute despair. "Do you know how out of my league you are? Your rich-ass family might judge me—hell, your dad might see me as a hampaslupa if I show up there in my pambahay and tsinelas!"

"Psh, I'm not out of your league," Maliksi waved it off, smoothly turning a corner. "And calm down. We've known each other for a decade! My dad practically loves you as his own daughter. Heck, the entire family knows you and keeps telling me they want you adopted in already. Lolo Andres and Lola Perlita said they'd have the paperwork settled. You just need to sign them."

It would be even better (and easier) if you married into the family. To him, specifically (as if he'd let anyone else have you). God, he was already being so obvious in his advances, but you were just so damn oblivious whenever it came to romance. None of this needed to happen if you just got it through your thick skull that he was madly in love with you.

"That's not the point, idiot!" you slumped back into your seat, hopeless. "Do you think the bride and the groom will get offended? Shit, baka masumpaan ako kung magagalit sila, Mal. Mukha akong patay galing sa South Cemetery."

The long-haired tikbalang rolled his eyes, "Huwag kang mag-alala. Nothing's going to go wrong. Chill ka lang diyan. I've got everything under control, babe."

Babe. Yes, he even called you babe but you thought it was him being a himbo and a massive flirt. Now, it was his common term of endearment for you, but you still assumed it was him just being irksome to you and that you couldn't stop the man from saying it anymore. Thus, you let it be (the most obvious hint of his attraction to you, bestie).

"... Ugh, why didn't you ask Hannah or Amie to go with you?"

He just smiled knowingly, shrugging and making up an excuse, "Nagmamadali ako, eh. Hannah and Amie are also coming, but they already have the other tikbalang as dates."

"'Luh, ako pala ang backup choice mo?"

"Heh. Whatever you want to think."

Little did you know that you were always his first choice. Always. Even when he pursued Alexandra Trese many years ago, trying to convince himself you were just his best friend, it was always you. How did he come to that realization? Well, an international band he was a fan of released a song a couple years ago and he heard it being played in a club in BGC. The song title?

It Was Always You by Maroon 5.

Needless to say, after hearing the song and being unable to get it—get you—out of his mind at night, he stopped courting Alexandra. Unfortunately for him, that time, you'd started dating other men. Therefore, he was left on the sidelines... until your latest and most painful breakup, at least. That was five years ago. You still hadn't dated anyone since then, kind of traumatized from getting into another failed relationship like that.

In the present day, as if the fates were playing on you two, one of your favorite artists played on the radio. A very ironic song given the situation you two were in.

Best Friend by Rex Orange County.

Maliksi knew it was a favorite of yours. He knew it by the way your eyes lit up like a star brightening the twinkling night sky. Like the sun first rising in the morning at Apolaki's command. Like the moon extending its gentle rays from the magic of Mayari herself. If there was anything he wanted to ask of the old gods, it was you—everything else be damned.

"I wanna be the one that makes your day, the one you think about as you lie awake," you half-sang and half-screamed happily, somewhat out-of-tune. "I can't wait to be your number oooooone! I'll be your biggest fan and you'll be mine—"

Maliksi glanced at you, not minding that his eardrums were probably getting microscopic ruptures from your aggressive singing. As much as he wanted to stare at you all day, he had to keep his eyes on the road. But the lyrics you were singing were wrong; the Prince of the Tikbalang was already yours from day one.

"Babe, McDo drive-through tayo for breakfast. Let me make it up to you. Gusto mo ng caramel sundae for your promotion gift? Sige. Ako bahala. Chicken nuggets din? Mabubusog ka ba niyan? I don't think they serve those this early..."

》》》

"Sandali lang!" you shouted out from inside an empty room. You'd just arrived at the venue—the Alta Veranda de Tibig in Silang, Cavite (practically the gateway to Tagaytay)—an hour or so ago. The hired makeup artist just left so that you could privately change into the outfit that had been bought specifically for you. Curse Mal and his ability to buy anything (perhaps anyone) he wanted. "Bwiset, Mal, you didn't tell me we'd be part of the damn entourage. We have to be walking the aisle in thirty minutes, simbako! You just love rushing me, don't you!?"

If only you were the one walking down the aisle today towards him.

When you exited the room, Maliksi couldn't help but let his jaw drop as he skimmed your figure, clad in the luxurious, silky satin blush midi dress he bought in one of those fancy stores in Makati yesterday. He imagined that it would look great on you, but now, seeing it on you in person... you looked divine (and frankly, he wanted to see it off your body to see what was underneath—but don't get too ahead of yourself, Mal). It was a whole 'nother level from his imagination. The deep cowl neckline and thin spaghetti straps showed your lovely collarbones... as well as a peek of your cleavage. His favorite and the best part of it all? It was backless, allowing him to gaze at the tempting curve of your spine.

He hadn't realized he had grown silent until you smiled and closed his mouth, tapping his chin.

"Lalangawin ang bibig mo, Mal," you laughed softly. Never had you seen him so speechless. You then flicked your hair back, ridiculously posing for him like you were on the cover of Vogue magazine (haba ng hair mo, gurl!). "Do I look that good? Char lang."

"... You look absolutely ravishing—I mean, uh, stunning. Hot. Yeah." That was all he could say. He mentally punched himself for not showering you with more suave compliments.

Still, your face brightened up, not knowing that the man in front of you just fell for you a thousand times harder, "Wow! Really? Damn. Ang galing talaga ng MUA na kinuha mo, ginawa akong artista. Give me their contact number later! May work event pa naman ako in two months. I'm shocked, it's like they made me rise from the dead! Even my eyebags are gone, Mal! How'd they do that?" Heck yeah, your confidence was boosted. He offered his arm to you like a gentleman, making you half-heartedly roll your eyes (you took it anyway). From holding it alone, you could tell that your best friend was a sinewy man (well, you knew that already after seeing his tikbalang form before—the little shit didn't even wear a loincloth like all his clanmates; your poor eyes were eternally scarred).

You looked him up and down. You wouldn't lie—Maliksi is and always has been an attractive man. Now? With his hair in a ponytail (pun not intended), definitely one of the hunkiest men you've ever known. "You're not looking too bad yourself, horsey."

"Ako pa!" He puffed his chest out in pride. You chuckled at his reaction.

"By the way, how do you even know my dress size and my shoe size?"

"Babe, I've known you too long. You know almost everything about me, I know everything about you."

You snorted at his confident tone, "'Di nga? You don't know every single thing about me, Mal. Assuming ka masyado."

"Alam ko nga anong cup size mo. Wala lang 'yang shoe and dress size."

You slapped his shoulder, cheeks quickly flushing red, "Huy, umayos ka! Walang hiyang tikbalang na 'to." With this guy as your best friend? You heard dirty jokes at least once a day. "Don't be inappropriate here!"

"What? It's only fair I know!" He looked down on you suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows. "You already know I always go commando, so of course I know that your bra is a size—"

"Shhh! Baka marinig ka, 'nyeta."

"So? Let them hear. My best friend has a nice set of melons!" he shouted. You were grateful there was no one around. Hopefully.

"Oh my God..."

Your best friend chortled at how flustered you'd become. He led you to where some of his family was waiting, with a couple of his relatives already greeting you. You instantly and quite easily mingled with them, your worries of them not accepting you far from even true (they all knew how much their prince loved the innocent you).

"Kayo na talaga, pare?" one of his older tikbalang clanmates asked while you went away to be fawned over by his aunts.

Maliksi chuckled, crossing his arms as he watched you from afar, "Heh. Hindi pa."

Another one of his clanmates—a younger one—laughed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, "Talaga? That's cap, bro. You two are like a married couple already and you guys still aren't a thing?"

"Ilang taon na ba kayong magkakaibigan?" the older one asked him.

"Almost ten years," Maliksi responded, a smile unconsciously pulling his lips up as he remembered your moments together. He watched you converse with his female relatives (who adored you the moment Maliksi brought you to a family event many moons ago).

The two tikbalang snickered as they saw the look on the Great Stallion's heir.

"You're down bad," the younger one said, snapping a photo of his lovestruck kuya. "You've got it so bad for her, dudeparechong!"

"Balak mong ligawan anytime soon?" the older tikbalang inquired.

"Heh. Balak ko na ngang pakasalan. Kung pwede, ngayon."

They looked at Maliksi as if he was crazy. He was very much serious, though, even if there was a huge, lopsided smile on his face. The Prince of the Tikbalang raised a brow at them.

"What? Don't give me that look. Our ten years of being best friends is practically the courting and the dating stage already."

"Eh... you're right. Don't waste anymore time. Go and marry her today, dude. Suporta kami sa'yo, basta groomsmen kami sa kasal niyo, ha!"

"Ge. Without question."

Meanwhile, on your end with the ladies of the family, they started pestering you on your love life (like all typical Filipino aunties). Chismis everywhere.

"O, iha, single ka pa ba?"

"Kailan ka magpapakasal? Malapit ka nang pumasok sa thirties mo."

"Do you want kids? How many?"

"Are you and Maliksi a couple? You look good together! Kayo na, 'di ba?"

"Will you be getting married next? Are you engaged? When's the wedding? Invite niyo kami!"

Before you could get overwhelmed by their questions, Maliksi swept you off your feet to lead you to the entourage that was lining up outside the chapel area. Again, it happened like a blur. He laughed at the partially nauseated look on your face.

"You okay there?" he asked, grinning.

"Your family thinks we're together," you muttered quietly, not meeting his eyes. You weren't sure why you felt... tingly about their statements.

He tilted his head at you curiously, gently setting you down on your feet and helping you stand.

"Do you hate the idea?" It hurt him to ask you the question, but he wanted your thoughts on it. Perhaps doing this was a bad idea. Maliksi was competitive in many things, including wanting you to be his, but if you were so opposed to it, he would never force you into something you didn't want. He let go of your hand; you didn't even notice he'd been holding it until he let go. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

Your wide-eyed gaze snapped back to look up at him, "No! No, it's not that! And... it's not bad." Your hand felt strangely empty now that his was gone. Biting your lip, you disclosed, "You're not making me uncomfortable, Mal. Don't ever think that."

With that, you shyly interlocked your arm with his, tearing your eyes from his to mask the growing warmth you felt spreading in your veins. You two didn't say anything else when the ushers let you walk down the beautiful, petal-covered aisle together.

The man beside you was starstruck. Hopeful. Maybe both of you did have a chance. Maybe somewhere in the depths of your soul, his feelings for you were being reciprocated. For the rest of the sacred ceremony in the gorgeous main pavilion, both of you relished in short, comfortable, and low conversations. He even cracked jokes every once in a while—really funny ones that made it challenging for you to you stifle your laughter.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride."

Maliksi fervently prayed to Bathala that he'd experience the same opportunity he was seeing with you someday. One day.

Even while the sun was brightly out, the sky began showering down light rain onto the land. You were in awe as you looked out the window.

"Hala, totoo nga pala! Tignan mo!" you laughed, tugging Maliksi's suit sleeve, pointing at the window.

"Na ano?" he curiously inquired, not understanding what you were referring to.

"Na kapag may tikbalang na kinakasal, umuulan habang may araw pa," you replied, eyes filled with childlike mirth and wonder. A rainbow had even begun to form by the clouds. "Look, it's magical! Ang ganda pala ng view dito kasama ang old Spanish architecture. Timeless na timeless. It's so pretty, 'no? Picture tayo 'maya, Mal."

Unlike you, it wasn't the sky outside that the prince was looking at. Amidst the loud cheers for the newlywed couple and the bubbles the guests were blowing, his vision could only focus on how magnificent you looked while being amazed. You were his best view. (Ed from 90-Day Fiancé, kabahan ka na, may katapat ka sa pickup line mo.)

》》》

"Smile for the picture!"

You giggled as Maliksi was dragged into a photo-op with the bridesmaids and the important older wedding sponsors a few feet away (funnily, he looked a little constipated around them). All of a sudden, when he was heading back to your direction, you were roughly pushed into the said man's arms. When you turned around, there was nothing (except maybe a gust of wind that came out of nowhere).

"Ooh, gotcha. Careful," the tikbalang steadied you, strong hands holding your biceps. "Natapilok ka?"

"... Huh, hindi naman," you wondered suspiciously, looking around. "I think someone pushed me? Parang tinulak ako... but wala namang tao."

"Weird. Maybe it was just the wind."

It actually was. Really. Maliksi knew for a fact that it was those two taong hangin who were spying on you from the corner, trying to pair you up. He gave them a thumbs-up while your back was turned in the opposite direction. Hannah and Amie returned the thumbs-up before vanishing. Suddenly, the two wedding photographers had moved on from the bridesmaids and were right beside you.

"What a lovely couple you two are!" she praised. Before you could correct her, she held up the black contraption she held towards you two. "Pose for the camera, lovelies!"

And so you did, the photographer guiding you two on what to do. Maliksi wrapped his arm around your waist and you leaned on his side, looking sidewards to the camera with one leg cocked in front of the other. Her assistant, who was holding a polaroid camera, printed out two photos for you.

"Thank you," you told him, taking the photos from his hands then flicking them rapidly to make the images develop. You and Mal were about to walk to the reception area when the photographer stopped you, handing the male beside you a business card.

"If you two need a photographer or a videographer for your wedding, call me," she signaled to both of you before running to another guest, bringing her assistant with her.

You gawked, "Mal, did you just hear what she said?"

"Loud and clear." A grin was on his face. He seemed very pleased at what he heard.

"... How can she even tell if someone is married or not?"

Maliksi's free hand took your left hand, tapping the ring finger, "Nothing here."

"Ooooooh. I get it now." Your brows creased. "Huh. This is like the fifth time today the people here have mistaken us for a couple."

Maliksi shrugged, teasing you, "Who knows? Baka may potential tayo, babe."

Before you could ask him what he meant, he was hurriedly towing you to the reception venue. While he was doing that, you stared at the now-developed polaroid photos you were holding. Huh. Maybe you two did look like a couple.

"Come on, they're serving some snacks at the welcome reception area. Peach pie and mango float-flavored. Paborito mo, babe."

》》》

The rest of the night went by without a hitch. You were actually enjoying the event—the host was great, the food was great, the music was great. Everything was great... that was, until the games.

"Alright! Now that the bride's garter has been removed, let's have the bouquet and garter toss... starting with the females!" the host announced. "Dear bride, please stay here in front. And all single ladies—and by single I mean ready to mingle and are not married—please rise and stand here on the dance floor. Let's play matchmaker tonight, everyone!"

"Uy, single ladies daw," Maliksi nudged your side. "Sign mo na 'yan." You snorted like a pig.

"Nope, ayokong madamay sa bouquet toss," you whisper-yelled at your best friend. "Do you know how embarrassing that is?! Besides, they won't notice if I don't join! Special tactic ko 'yan sa weddings: pretending I'm not single. Katabi naman kita."

More women came to the front, making you feel assured that you didn't need to participate. The host was about to say something, when the bride interrupted to whisper something into his ear.

"Hala, halaaa! Sabi ko all single ladies, pero may isang single lady na nagtatago pa!" he announced, making you freeze. Please don't let it be you. "What's her name, beloved bride?"

"Y/N L/N." You nearly spat out your champagne. You? Did they just call out your name? How did they know?

"Oh fuck," you cursed quietly.

"'Di ka makakatakas dito, babe," Maliksi jabbed, making you stand up. "Tinatawag ka na."

"Baka may ibang Y/N L/N dito," you resisted, attempting to sit back down. "I can't do this, Mal."

"'Sus, ikaw pa. And it's just a symbolic ceremony!" he encouraged, as if he didn't have any underlying intentions. "I doubt the bouquet will go to you anyway."

Sheesh, what a big fat liar you are, tikbalang prince.

You expressed your dissatisfaction with the situation, "Bwiset, fine. I'll just... dodge it. Or evade it. God, I swear..." You calmed down, confident. "I'm not going to worry. I've never caught the bouquet at my own friends' weddings anyway."

When you were at the dance floor, Maliksi snickered, seeing the bride—his cousin—wink at him. After all, he had thoroughly bribed her earlier.

《《《

"It's about time you settled down with someone, Mal," the bride commented while he slipped her the newest Hermés designer bag filled with a bunch of jewelry (plus some bills) two hours ago, right before the reception began and while you were in the restroom freshening up. "Hehehe, this is why you're my favorite cousin."

"Do we have a deal?"

"Of course. I'll make sure she participates. I'll also try to throw it in her direction."

"Good. Thanks."

"You better invite me to your beach wedding. I can tell how much you love her."

"Not a problem. I'll even make you a sponsor."

The bride stared at her bouquet, already practicing how she was going to throw it, "Tito's going to thank me so much for ensuring that he's going to get grandkids soon, hihi."

》》》

Back to the present, on the other end of the room, Maliksi saw a familiar duo give him a sign that they were ready. Bingo. Time to execute the most important part of his plan.

《《《

"I don't care how you do it," he told the two wind elementals after he bribed the bride. "I've already instructed the bride on what she should do, pero siguraduhin niyo lang talagang lumipad sa kanya ang bouquet."

"Mmhmm," Amie flipped her hair, a hand on her cocked hip. "And what do we get in return, oh great Señorito Armanaz?"

"Sagot ko bar-hopping niyo for one month."

The two girls pretended to think about it, making Maliksi roll his eyes. He had to pull out the big guns, huh?

"Fine. Magbibigay ako ng cash deposit plus pwede niyong gamitin ang black card ko for a one-week shopping spree in Ortigas." There. Bullseye. That's what they liked.

"Deal!" they exclaimed excitedly.

Hannah let a cool gust of wind enter one of the nearby windows, testing out how they're going to do this. "Ano pa bang pinaplano mo for Y/N mamaya?"

Maliksi hummed, "Basta."

》》》

You tried your best to hide within the densest part of the group of women. The bride seemed to have her eyes on you, weirdly enough, and she looked almost feral wanting to throw her flowers into someone's face.

That someone being you. Most likely.

"Target locked on," you saw her mouth move. She positioned herself like she was about to throw a football at someone (ahem, you). Holy shit, was she talking to you? Miss ma'am, it was a bouquet toss not a bouquet throw. The bride seemed to notice this, and once more regained her elegant composure.

"3, 2, 1," the host counted down. "Go!"

Surprisingly, the bouquet flew very high into the air (it was a wonder it didn't get tangled in the ceiling decor), but quite a distance away from you. You grinned, knowing it was too far to even touch you. Squeezing through the crowd of women eagerly awaiting the bouquet, you went to return to your assigned table.

Ah, what a wonderful evening.

Sike!

Something painfully landed right into your face, leaves and flowers getting into your hair and mouth.

... Wait, leaves and flowers?

Before you could comprehend it, the bouquet dropped right into your arms. What kind of ungodly, inhuman force allowed this to even happen?

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have our lucky girl for the night!" Everyone clapped, with some—those guests you knew—even cheering your name unbelievably loud. The host approached you, a glint in his eye which you couldn't understand. "Miss Y/N, kindly sit here while we await the lucky guy who catches the garter from the groom."

What just happened?

"All single gentlemen, please proceed to the dance floor. Remember, the man who gets the garter gets to slip it onto the lucky lady's leg later!"

Oh, God. You pinched the bridge of your nose. What you'd give to be back at home or to be in that resort in Batangas you'd planned on going to for a solo vacation.

"To make this even more exciting," the host stated, handing you a black blindfold. "Our lucky lady has to keep her eyes closed until her lucky man for the night captures the bride's garter! When the music plays, only then can she uncover her eyes."

See? Humiliating, just as you expected. Still, you wrapped the blindfold around your head (albeit hesitantly). You attempted to guess who it might be, thinking of all the tikbalang friends Maliksi had introduced to you back then whenever he invited you to his clan reunions.

"Groom, are you ready?" the host asked, microphone loud and clear.

"Ready na ready!"

"Single gentlemen, are you ready?!"

"Ready na ready! Awoo, awoo!" they loudly chorused, exactly mimicking Spartans about to engage in battle. You sweatdropped in the seat you were in. This was actually kind of scary. Maybe you felt a bit objectified.

"3, 2, 1, go!"

There was a brief moment of silence, which made you concerned. Ba't ang tahimik? Then, everyone erupted into roars and bravoes much louder than when you caught the bouquet—perhaps even louder by tenfold. What the heck was happening?!

The music played. Very raunchy, spicy, babymaking music. You expected it to be the typical Careless Whisper by George Michael or Pony by Ginuwine (corny songs which you could probably laugh at, at least), but no. Nuh-uh, this was probably worse. The DJ must be pretty young, the song of their choosing being a slowed, bass-boosted, sexier remix of Earned It by the Weeknd.

Ano 'to, bold? Fifty Shades of Grey? The hell was this?

Alright. This was embarrassing. Thank the heavens there were no children at this party. From the music alone and its implications, this was strictly for adults.

You removed your blindfold (that was okay now, right?) as the guests whistled playfully. You peeked one eye open reluctantly, then inwardly groaned. Oh, no. You should've expected it to be him of all people from how loud the reactions were. And all those yells from the crowd were from his family.

Son of a—

"Well, this has proven to be a very interesting arrangement!" the host proclaimed. "Our lucky man for tonight is none other than our great clan leader's heir, Maliksi Armanaz! Congratulations, sir! You get to slip the lacey little garter on Miss Y/N!"

The said very smug tikbalang stood a few feet away from the chair you were sitting on, smirking at you. His hair was no longer in that mesmerizing ponytail—instead, he'd tied it into a more sinfully attractive man-bun, loose strands framing his face and accentuating that sharp, angled jaw of his (say yes and thank you to Manny Jacinto's jawline, besties).

"Let's cheer him on in his new mission, everybody!" the host pushed. Was this that glint in his eye earlier? And was that a one thousand peso bill sticking out of his pocket?

The groomsmen, Mal's cousins and uncles whom you've met before, hollered words of encouragement to the tall man (who was, oddly enough, not one bit fazed). In fact, Maliksi seemed like he was famished as he stared you down.

You swallowed, feeling like you were going to get eaten (heh, say that again). Maliksi had shrugged off his dark suit blazer to the beat of the song (holy fuck, he also unclasped the suspenders attached to his pants right before your eyes—asdfghjkl). Were you prepared for this? No. Will you ever be prepared? No!

"Mr. Armanaz, before you begin," the host interrupted. "We have an additional challenge for you in this mission. Kaya mo ba? It was a request of the newlywed couple."

"What is it?"

"Use your teeth!" the bride and the groom cheerfully shouted, clapping with the other guests. Whatdidtheysaaaaay???

The cocky bastard didn't even hesitate, his smirk at you growing wider; those pearly whites of his on full display. Was it just you or were his canines a little sharper than usual?

"Anything for the newlyweds. Challenge accepted," he dashingly replied, winking at you. You sputtered indignantly. Pisteng yawa. Putangina. Putek. Pakshet. You swore you thought of every swear word in the book at that moment. What did that YouTube parody song about Filipino mythological creatures say again? About the tikbalang? Ah, yes. Half-macho dancer and half-stallion. Maybe the joke was true, especially when you saw what Maliksi did next.

He bit the shred of lace, loosening his necktie (bestie, you good there?), unbuttoning some top buttons, and rolling up the sleeves of his collared white undershirt up to his elbows (consequently showing off his toned, veiny forearms—those lucky bridesmaids behind him nearly fainted). Honestly, you felt like you were about to lose your mind from embarrassment. With how tantalizing your guy best friend was being? Let our response be: San Pedro, kunin mo na ako. Was he doing all this to tease you? To rile you up?

Because damn it all, it was working. In your ten years of knowing Maliksi Armanaz, withstanding all his daily dirty jokes and flirtatious attempts, never had you seen him like this. So... wolfish. Ravenous. Like he was a man that hadn't been fed in years.

He stalked closer towards you, falling to his knees in front of your legs. Your gown had a long slit that extended up to an inch or two below where your left leg began—your best friend was eyeing his target already, knowing where to place the garter. Normally, you would never even wear something as revealing as this gown. It just wasn't your type, but Maliksi was the one who bought this for you for this specific occasion, so you had no choice. It was this or your pantulog he stole you in just hours ago. At first, you were confident in the gown. Now? You felt too... naked.

Somehow, in the heat of it all, you'd muted out the noise of the venue. Maliksi teasingly lifted your foot up, fingertips slyly grazing the thin shoe straps around your left foot—his calculated touch leaving fire in its trail. Once the garter had been successfuly inserted past your high-heeled stilettos, the man kneeling in front of you kept his hands to himself. Despite the fact that now there was absolutely zero skin-to-skin contact between you and this man, your body felt hotter than it ever was before as he expertly slid the lacy bit of cloth up your ankle at an agonizingly slow pace.

Maliksi's warm eyes had turned dark, his pupils blown, a tinge of red in them—of his true beast—while he maintained striking eye contact with you, pulling the garter up your calf with his teeth. Smoothly tugging... tugging... tugging. Tangina, it was like he was undressing you with his eyes alone; like he was telepathically telling you to keep your eyes open.

To keep your eyes on him, where he was knelt inbetween your legs, his hands intentionally locked on his back. Did you ever imagine this? Him between your legs? Maybe. Once or twice. But you never thought about it seriously; Maliksi dated girls left and right in the past.

His lips... his lips were so close... so close to your leg that you could feel the heat of his breath along with the lace. Were you about to die? Perhaps you already did. Maybe you were in heaven. Up... up... up... snap!

Suddenly, he stopped, grinning up at you mischievously and letting the elastic bounce back to the skin of your left knee.

"I'm not going any further, don't worry, babe," he whispered, noting that your eyes had become misty and glazed over. Internally, he grew worried. "That's enough." Did he think it was from discomfort? From you being uncomfortable? Bitch, no. It was the exact opposite. You had never been this turned on in your entire life.

You felt like your soul had left your body at that moment. Did you just have a heart attack? Was your blood pressure okay? Before you or Maliksi could stand, however, someone bellowed from the wedding sponsor tables.

"Higher! That's an order!"

Fucking hell, it was Maliksi's father who shouted. He wasn't in the huge tikbalang form you'd normally meet him in, but he was still very intimidating in his humanoid form, commanding attention and subservience wherever he went. You could tell where Maliksi got it from.

Instantly, the other guests—already half-drunk and wanting the spirit of partying to continue on—joined in.

"Higher! Higher!"

The host cheered, "You heard Señor Armanaz! Higher!"

Maliksi gave you a questioning look. Even if it was his father who spoke up, he still wouldn't do anything you didn't want. Well, you two made it this far; there was no point in getting embarrassed now. You bit the inside of your cheek, nodding. You probably couldn't erase the redness on your skin with how much you'd blushed from this night. It was as if the heat was tattooed onto your skin.

"Go on, Mal," you whispered to him, bending your torso down closer to his face, eyes half-lidded from want. "Finish what you started, babe."

With those sultry bedroom eyes he'd never once seen you show him before—plus you turning the tables with that familiar term of endearment, how could he refuse? Like a switch had been flipped inside him, he immediately complied, taking the frilly scrap of stretchy lace between his teeth once more, moving it further up to your thighs until where your high slit ended—centimeters below the warming juncture between your legs.

Your legs felt wobbly... boneless, as you stood up from the chair, the fabric of your gown cascading over where the lace sat securely on your upper left thigh. The party was still going strong even after you two finished the garter wearing tradition.

"'Atta boy! That's my son!" Señor Armanaz blazoned, standing up and raising his glass for a toast. "Cheers to the newlywed couple! May they last forever!"

You guys weren't the newlyweds, but it did sure feel like it. If the clan leader was hyped up, everyone was hyped up. Heck, the groom and the bride didn't mind one bit what had just transpired on their dance floor. In all the chaos, Maliksi took you out of the reception area and somewhere quieter. More private.

You would need to have a serious, urgent talk with your boy best friend.

》》》

You two silently sat on a stone bench in a gazebo somewhere in the reserved venue for the wedding, trying to cool down and get yourselves back together (at this point, you needed ice from that steamy, half-scandalous event you just went through). Here, there was no one else except for the chirping of crickets, the lush trees surrounding the area, and the golden fairy lights strewn all over the roof. Awkwardness was something you'd expected after what just happened, but somehow, you still felt comfort in this man's presence. For the past thirty minutes, both of you just stayed still, lost in your thoughts and reflecting.

"Mal?" you finally spoke up.

"... Hmm?"

"Ano tayo?"

"Whatever you want us to be."

Your fingers instinctively reached out for his, just like they always did when you were anxious. Sensing this, he grasped your hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Soothingly. He massaged the skin of your fingers, distracting you from your nervousness. It seemed like both nothing and everything changed between both of you. The gesture was the same, but so different at the same time.

"Mahal mo ako." It was not a question. It was a statement. A truth—one that you'd been too blind to see before. One that you only discovered while you stared into each other's eyes in that party not as best friends. You realized with a jolt in your heart what he really felt for you, and now, what you really felt for him. In those thirty minutes of silence, you knew. You just knew.

"Yes. I do."

"... Just as a best friend?" you probed.

"..."

Finally, you gazed into his eyes, previously so dark and full of hunger. Now? Just reluctant. Vulnerable. Open. Unsure of what to do next.

Seems like you had to be the one to take initiative tonight. Taking out your phone, you opened your music app and pressed play on a certain song. Ikaw at Ako by Johnoy Danao. You removed your heels (which were starting to blister your ankles and toes), then pulled him up to stand.

"Dance with me," you murmured, grabbing his arms to wrap them around your waist. He was stiff. Tense. What was he to do when the woman he's been pining after for so long let him hold her? All his gallantry and ability to romance disappeared out the window the moment you let him touch you so intimately.

You two weren't even waltzing. Just swaying. Slowly, you leaned your head on his broad chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.

"... I love you," Maliksi admitted in the middle of it all, feeling like he was dreaming. Your head on his chest kept him grounded to reality, however. "More than anything in the universe. I fell for you ever since you patched me up when you were nineteen and I was a reckless drag racer who didn't have a purpose in life. 'Nung dinala mo ako pabalik sa Armanaz Tower on the verge of death. Simula noon, ikaw lang."

"I realized that," you smiled, reminiscing the old memory. You were just a broke college student that time, coming back to your dorm from making your group thesis at a classmate's house. Imagine your panic when you found a half-man, half-horse bleeding out by some bushes on the way home at night. Despite your fear and your little money (only enough to feed you for the week), you went out of your way to buy a first-aid kit at the nearest 7/11. It was scary, but you managed to mend the creature's wounds by the side of the road. When he was finally able to speak, turning fully human (which you admit, freaked you out initially), you arduously carried him back to his address—to his father and his clan, even if you had classes the very next morning. Because of your heroic deed of saving their precious heir, the tikbalang clan had become indebted to you: a teenage girl on the verge of a mental academic breakdown, just making her way through the cruel adult world. How old of a memory that was, you thought, yet you still recalled it in perfect detail. "Just a while ago."

"Ah." He swayed you gently.

"Lahat ng ito, plano mo?"

"... Yes," Maliksi fessed up. "Except for this part where we're here dancing in this belvedere. Wala sa plano ko. Gusto ko sanang magconfess doon sa may fountain para sweet, pero..."

You lifted your head off his chest, smiling at him with one brow raised, "You know, between both of us, you're supposed to be the spontaneous one. Planning isn't usually your thing."

"I know. It's a failure, huh?" Maliksi sighed.

"Nah." You shook your head, then suddenly locked lips with him. It was so fast and surprising he didn't even get the chance to return your first kiss. For once, you caught him off guard. You pecked him on the lips again. "It's not a failure."

"Wha—"

"I'm sorry for making you wait, Maliksi. Ten years. We're twenty-nine now, and only tonight do I realize how blind I've been. We've been going around in circles, wasting so much time. Ayoko nang mag-aksaya ng oras," you whispered guiltily against his lips. How could you have been so blind? Andaming nasayang na taon. Making up your mind, you told him, "Yes. Sige, I accept. I'll be your plus one."

The tikbalang was flustered and baffled from the kiss, as well as your revelation, "... But, you already are?"

"No, silly. I meant that I'll be your plus one for life. For as long as you'll have me," you laughed, now processing that you were currently dancing barefoot with your boy best friend and had just kissed him in a wedding you didn't even plan on going to. The universe had a mysterious way of doing things. "Guess I'm the spontaneous one now, huh?"

Maliksi was tongue-tied. "Seryoso ka ba? Is... Is this a marriage proposal?"

"Whatever you want it to be," you echoed his words back to him. "Best friend, plus one, girlfriend, wife—mmpf!"

He kissed you so hard your lips bruised. After an impromptu makeout session which was definitely more in character for Maliksi, you both pulled away, panting heavily in search for air, still desperate for passion. He cupped your cheeks, giving you a sweet, featherlight Eskimo kiss.

"You're missing one more title."

"Hm? What do you mean, Mal?"

"Love of my life." He kissed you again, this time lifting you off your feet and spinning you around (his sneaky right hand was resting on your bum, too, giving it a tight squeeze). You know in the Princess Diaries where the main character's foot just... pops whenever the prince charming kissed her? Yeah, that happened to you on that humid summer night. This was right. You two were meant to be together. Everything was falling into place.

The bungalow you reserved for your Batangas vacation leave ended up being the site of your very eventful honeymoon with the Prince of the Tikbalang (with his libido, it wasn't that difficult to continue where you'd left off in the garter toss; that scrap of lace came off your leg the same way it went on). Actually, nauna pa ang honeymoon sa actual wedding (it was definitely spontaneous). Right after your confession in that alcove, you two went to Maliksi's father to ask for his blessing (which he gladly gave, cackling and saying that it took you long enough) before you guys went driving off to Batangas that night. You and Mal indeed had lots and lots of fun in that resort (I'll let you imagine the rest). More beautiful memories were made from that point on—this time, not just as best friends.

All that and your small, intimate wedding occurred in early April. Just when you thought that it'd be impossible to fulfill Maliksi's life goal of having a baby within the year (nine months of pregnancy meant that the earliest you'd give birth would be January next year), the impossible happened.

Exactly thirty-two weeks later, on New Year's Eve, the Armanaz herd welcomed one prince and two new princesses into the world. Triplets who were instantly adored by everyone in the clan.

Señor Armanaz had never been happier, and so were you and your husband. Your best friend. The love of your life. Your forever plus one.

Maybe being spontaneous wasn't so bad after all.

Taglist: @belladaises @binibiningbabaylan @4kodzuk3n @sparklingmallow @severuslovebot @holyshxtangel @marinac15 @space-flamingo @pippethealien @kashasenpai @disappointmentpastry @hornehlittleweeblet2 @seijohoe @monimiin @ibelievein2dmensupremacy @tinybonksharkcop @methehipster @banisuoh @genshin-idiot @lemonnie-kimmie

#trese #trese 2021 #trese netflix #maliksi #maliksi x reader #tikbalang #trese fic #x reader #trese x reader #thera.writes

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cielcius · 3 years ago

Text

IN YOUR FAVOR | SUNA RINTAROU

pairings: Suna x g/n!reader

summary: In such a large, corrupt campus, it’s hard to find someone who’s willing to put up with anything, especially your drunk self.

from the writer: this was supposed to be my xmas gift here but oh well uhm anyways I have to work like three days in a row after posting this... fun :D eh idk maybe I'll get some inspiration from my male coworker while I'm at it or something (that’s not called using him.. righttttt? right :)) though this is technically going to be my last fic of the year, I'm glad its this one because imma be honest, I think I'm the shit/j no I just laugh at my own jokes but really, to anyone who actually reads my rants, I hope u enjoy this bc this made me laugh way more than any other fic I've written and in a way, its special <3

genre: fluff, crack, drunk fic, strangers to lovers (?)

wc: 4.4k (whew longest I've written in a while)

notes & warnings: reader is drunk!!! also a lot of secondhand embarrassment so this is your first and only warning!!! mentions of alcohol, two mentions of m*rder (in a drunk way), your dorm mates are really shitty, party at a sorority house, cursing, reader is all kinds of drunk (it’s called inclusivity people 😃)

“Hey, can you watch our drinks for us? We’ll be right back.”

Three red plastic cups find their way into your arms, the owners walking off without another word to you thus, leaving you defenseless in the house of a sorority you didn’t even know. The sigh you let out gets lost in the blaring music that bangs against the walls, vibrating with a frequency large enough to cause a headache without the alcohol.

You lean back against the wall, eyeing the entrance of the house with envy lingering in your eyes, before deciding right there that you’d leave the moment they came back for their drinks.

Placing the three cups down on the nearest table, you take to holding only your drink to which you periodically sip from. The alcohol burns as it passes through your throat, leaving an almost dry feeling in your mouth with a taste that makes you feel off about the beverage. Regardless, you continue with your drink, and then another, and then another.

It’s after you’ve already finished three drinks that your dorm mates come back, two hours having passed since they promised to come back for you. “Hey, sorry. We got distracted on the way back.” For two hours? Looking down, you can tell how they don’t even bother to hide the new drinks they had gotten for themselves along the way, making you roundly roll your eyes as you walk off.

“I’m leaving.”

You don’t wait for an answer, and even if you did, it’d only be drowned out in the music just like everything else. Your cup finds the trashcan on the way out and you’re thankful for the cold air that greets you as you walk down the shallow steps of the porch, regardless of it being the middle of winter.

You should have known it was a bad idea to come along in the first place, especially when the word sorority had made its way into the conversation. You mentally shake your head, trying to clear your mind and the bad gut feeling for the most part before reminding yourself that you could start looking for your own apartment soon as you start your walk back to the dorm building.

All is quiet but it takes a minute for you to notice that your steps are starting to fall out of sequence, your body swaying as you desperately try to find your balance again. Shit. Tell-tale signs of alcohol.

Looking around, you spot one of the many cafes that litter the campus, the warm light attracting you like a fly as you mindlessly stumble through the door. Though it could be considered early to be leaving a party, you still feel the pins of shock at the sight of a line to order and people lounging about at tables seemingly placed at random.

The thought dawns upon you: a night cafe.

The sign with their hours on the door is too small and blurry for you to make out, but it’s pointless as you’ve already claimed a spot in line without thinking so much of what to order or to even skim the menu. What am I doing? I should just go home instead.

Just as your conscious agrees with your mind, your body digresses in retaliation as it brings you closer to the counter in shaky steps and unbalanced coordination. Just as you’ve watched your feet hold a place where your body is oddly balanced, you’re called up to the register to order.

Your hands land on the counter, palms flat as your arms straighten to support your weight and you keep your head down. “Um, I...” Just leave! Your eyes follow the counter several inches to the right where you spot a menu, but the words are too blurry for you to read. You’re drunk.

Just as you think about reaching out for the menu, one of your arms give out, your legs already too tired to support your weight any longer, and you think you might just be ready to leave this world after coming to the conclusion that there is no coming back embarrassment-free from passing out at the register of a cafe.

The ground grows closer as you fall, almost in slow motion until you stop. There’s something that comes around your back, warmth palming at your side as one of your arms is lifted to come across a pair of broad shoulders. Someone caught you.

“I’m sorry,” You hang your head impossibly further. “I didn’t think the alcohol would be so strong.” You keep your eyes down on the floor, watching a pair of black boots walk closely to yours. In the sound distance, you think you hear words of reassurance.

Your mouth speaks apologies for you before you’re being seated at a table, a tall window serving a scene of winter pleasant on the eyes. The cool air is frosted against the glass window, a chill emitting a shiver that runs up your spine and falls down your arms before you hear a voice speak muffled words, the same voice that spoke of reassurance.

You let out a soft sigh of confusion, eyes glazed over but ears perked as you listen again. “I’m gonna get you some water and food.” There’s a pause, but eventually, you realize that the person speaking is waiting for an answer. You nod quietly, lips pressed together in a silent apology and agonizing shame.

I really should have just left.

You wait until the black boots disappear to lift your head, turning to look at the drizzle starting outside the cafe. You watch as anonymous figures in large coats jog for shelter, book bags being held over heads as a temporary shield. Even as you sit in the arms of manmade sunlight, it oddly feels as if you’re running with them in the rain, just as cold under the sky that bears its tears to the world.

There’s a clash of ceramic on the table in front of you, but it isn’t until something bumps against your shoe that you turn your attention away from the window. The black boots are back, one near your shoe that’s enough to tell you what had bumped against your foot.

You look at the table, a steaming mug of what looks to be hot chocolate and a plated croissant sitting fresh in front of you. You curl your lips in, the bottom half stuck between your teeth, before popping them back out. “Thank you...” When you raise your eyes to look straight ahead, you can only make out the middle section of a black apron, breast pocket showing no name or name tag of the sort.

“Suna. Suna Rintarou.”

You raise your chin, making brief contact with green before looking away with a pout just shy on your lips. “Thank you, Suna.” Hopefully, he’s heard you over the distant chatter of lingering customers as your head fills with one thought.

He’s... pretty.

The hot chocolate slides past your throat, not as easy as water would but easier than the alcohol that now runs freely through your veins. You let out a quiet sigh when you’ve let the mug hit the wooden table again, the smell of chocolate burning on your lips with a sugary aftertaste.

Slowly, you go to pick at the croissant, flakes falling to the pristine ceramic in a similar manner of fall-toned leaves kissing the concrete with tips curled in at a last attempt of self-protection.

Oh, now you’re getting a little too cheesy.

You look down your side again, eyes traveling down the arch of your leg and to the floor where black boots wait in patience.

“Are you okay to get home—”

“I’m sorry for causing so much trouble.” The piece of the pastry you once held in your hand is placed back onto the plate before you continue. “I really don’t drink this much, I don’t know why I did, but I’ll pay you back. Here, lemme get my wallet out.” Your voice trails off, eyes pointing themselves to the pocket of your coat where you think your wallet might be.

Your hand is shoved into the pocket, fingers clumsily rummaging around until pressure on your arm stops you mid-search. “You don’t have to pay for anything,” There’s something else that Suna says but you don’t get a chance to hear as he continues. “Just tell me if I can call someone to pick you up or help you back to... wherever you came from.”

“I was born in (hometown).”

“Okay, thank you. So there’s no one I can call?”

You shake your head, the knowledge of your roommates being the only people you know lingering absentmindedly in your brain. There was no one else, so you shake your head again. “My roommates are still at the party, high and drunk off their asses by now, I bet.”

There’s a low scoff, one that almost sounds like a chuckle but there’s no time to think as Suna sits himself in the seat across from you. “Okay, I’ll drive you to your apartment—”

“I live in the dorms.”

Suna presses his lips together, silent and in waiting in case you have something else to say, before proceeding. “Okay, I’ll drive you to your dorm after I close up. Sound good?” You pause before nodding silently.

“Thank you, Suna.”

—

You don’t realize that you’ve fallen asleep until Suna is shaking you by the shoulder, the engine turned off with the car still on, and the headlights reflecting with a harsh glare against the car in front. “Building C, right?” Just as you had told him, he had parked right across the street from the brick building stacked tall with overpacked dorms and communal bathrooms. Home sweet home.

“Uhm, y-yeah. Looks like it.”

Maybe I shouldn’t have parked across the street. Suna thinks to himself with a frown pressing on his lips. “Can you get in by yourself?” He eyes the building across the street.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s... um...mm.” Mid-sentence, you fail to catch your head that falls limp on your shoulder, pushing your body into an uncomfortable position as you lose another battle to sleep.

Suna turns off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt before going around the car to help you out of your seat. With your arm around his shoulders and his under yours, Suna is almost tempted to just carry you as he nearly drags you across the street and to the entrance of the building.

“Hey, can you get your entrance card out? Need to scan it to get in.” When Suna looks down at you, your eyes are slitted and glazed over, but more or less open as you slowly gain consciousness. With a small hum, you start to fumble for a card before pressing it against the panel.

The light flashes red.

Again, you press the card against the panel, and again, the light flashes red. Looking down at the card, you almost sink into yourself as your eyes find red letters in bold. “Oh, this is a Ch*potle gift card. Oops.”

That’s actually an Am*zon gift card, but Suna keeps his lips sealed as you finally pull out your entrance card to which a green light flashes in response. “Waiiiiit.” Suna turns to look at you, foot raised in a mid-step through the doorway. “What’s wrong?”

He watches as you cast your eyes downward, a force pulling the edges of your lips down. You mutter something too quiet for him to hear, so Suna leans in closer with a question for you to repeat it. “What if you do something bad?”

There’s a pause in his actions, delayed by a sliver of shock before he’s overtaken with amusement. “Oh? Like what?” Straightening to his full height, or as much as he could with you on his shoulders, Suna can’t help but let a smirk fall onto his lips.

“Like,” You lean in closer to his ear. “stealing my stuff. O-or, m*rdering me.” All in the midst of drunken chaos, Suna thinks this is the best use of his time that he’s ever invested in. “That’s a big jump between the two. Hm, maybe you shouldn’t let me go with you. Good thinking.”

Sliding his arm out from under you, he lets you stand on your own two legs, wobbling like a newborn until you admit defeat by grabbing onto his outstretched hands. “Okay, let me just walk you to your door then—”

“Nooo.”

“I won’t steal your things, or k*ll you.”

You look up from your feet to Suna. “Promise? Or else I’ll never be able to wear these shoes again” The two of you look down at said shoes, the toes clicking together and Suna has to admit—they do look good on you. Suna bites the inside of his mouth to rebel against an oncoming laugh that threatens to break his exterior.

“I pinky promise.” Suna isn’t sure what he meant to accomplish by adding the action of interlocking pinkies, but that seems to further reassure you as you let him guide you inside the dimly lit building.

The cold elevator lighting stabs at your temples as you enter, your eyes squeezed shut before you open them slowly to adjust. “What floor do you live on?” Suna brings you over to the panel with many buttons waiting to be pressed—

“I swear to god if you even think about pressing all of the buttons on here, I will get off and take the stairs back down.” Though the statement itself should worry you, it only brings a giggle bubbling at your lips before you look back at the panel. “It’s the third one,” You press the button, and the doors close. “I think.”

Suna hopes he heard wrong just now.

You’re slightly leaning into him more by the time the elevator doors open again, body nearly lax against his until he’s nudging you awake. Walking out, you’re met with two signs pointing down two different halls with a section of numbers on each.

“What number is your dorm?”

“Three hundred and eighteen, on the right.”

Suna brings you to the left, double-checking the sign pointing and labeled with numbers three hundred to three hundred and fifty. In the distance, presumably down the right hall, there’s shouting. Suna thinks quietly to himself once again. I hate dorms.

It’s a short stroll down the hall with an occasional misstep but you eventually make it there safe. “You have your key, right?” Your eyes widen, suddenly wide awake as you look up at Suna. That’s why you couldn’t fully get rid of that bad gut feeling from earlier.

“Oh no.”

—

“Red toothbrush, just like you asked.”

Handing you the plastic package, Suna watches as you fumble to get the opening before tearing the cardboard at the back. “Hehe, yay.” Still seated at the edge of his bed with your clothes folded on his dresser, you swing your legs slightly toned in Suna’s spare clothes.

Suna draws out a short sigh after looking at the situation he’s gotten himself into but alas, finds himself patting you on the head before turning to wash up in the bathroom. How did he become so weak to (your) puppy eyes in such a short time?

“Oh, I’ll grab you a towel.” Walking out into the hall, Suna digs through the closet but finds no spare towels in the end, eventually sighing as he finds himself making his way into the only other bedroom in the apartment.

“Tarou? What are you doing in my bathroom?”

Suna’s younger sister is typically a heavy sleeper, but of course, he can count on her the most to wake up during the few times he wished she wouldn’t. “Do we have any extra towels?”

“Huh? Why—” The young woman gasps. “Do we have guests—do you have a guest?” Hoping that the next morning would work in his favor—however it played out—Suna gives a brief explanation of the situation to his sister.

“Awh, you must really like them if you—” Quickly, Suna slaps a hand over his sister’s mouth and as much as he loves and adores her, he can’t find himself doing so at the moment.

“Good night.”

Leaving his sister’s bedroom, Suna finds you at the bathroom sink of his own room with a pout spread across your face. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think I’m the best person to put the toothpaste on.” Looking down at the toothbrush, Suna notices the dot of toothpaste that’s only managed to land on the handle of your toothbrush. “Here,” Suna washes it off before redoing it. “Ah.”

Grabbing hold of your chin in one hand, Suna uses the other to brush your teeth as firmly as he can without hurting you. “Suna, I ca’ brus’ myshelf.” He curses quietly to himself. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

Even as he looks away, Suna can hear the hum of curiosity coming from where you stand. Turning back, your head is tilted slightly to the side with eyes drowned in confusion. Don’t look at me like that.

Suna sighs. “I have a little sister that I used to help get ready in the morning for school.” At the mention of a sister, you perk up, but his explanation is forced to wait as he steps out of the bathroom to let you wash up.

Finally, you walk out with a mind that’s admittedly clearer than before. “You used to brush her teeth for her?”

“Yeah, and her hair, and get her breakfast.” Looking over at you, Suna is met with a teasing smile to which he grimaces at. “That’s nice. Are you looking for another sibling?”

With a gentle push, Suna rolls his eyes as your chuckles make a brief appearance. “No, shut up.” Though he was thankful that you had sobered up a little more at the end of the night, Suna still hadn’t come to the issue of where to sleep until now.

Grabbing a blanket, Suna starts to make his way out of the room, until your voice stops him. “If you’re comfortable, we can sleep in the same bed, but otherwise, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Looking back at you, Suna raises an eyebrow before walking to stand before you. “You’d let a guy like me sleep in the same bed as you?” With a playful tone twisting itself into his words, he awaits your response that doesn’t come as expectedly as he thought.

“Yeah, you are letting me sleep here despite not knowing me, and you already pinky promised to not k*ll me so I’d say it’s a win-win.” For you.

Suna lets out a huff of amusement, a smile teasing his lips before he gives in once again. “Fine. Just don’t hog all of the blankets.” You smile back at him.

“Good night, Suna,” You pause. “And thank you.”

—

The digital clock on the nightstand reads six in the morning when you peel your eyes open, letting your vision adjust as the numbers no longer appear as a jumbled blur of red. A grey sky sits past the light curtains of the bedroom, casting a glow that’s delicate and yet enough to let your eyes scour the interior of the room.

There’s a weight on your waist and another that pulls against you at the shoulders, both coming from the source of Suna Rintarou. His grip on your body is unexpectedly tight, even in the midst of his dream-infested slumber, and before panic can set in, the events of the night before flash through your mind and leave you with a horrified expression spread across your face.

I’m never gonna live this down. If your arms weren’t trapped in the hold of Suna, you would have definitely hidden your face in your hands but alas, you settle for the pillow as the haziness of sleep starts to fade away.

You can only crane your head at an awkward angle to get a glimpse at Suna behind you, and when you do, you’re tempted to fall back asleep as the need to not wake him arises—with the wanting of putting off your embarrassment. Though in the end, it’s not enough (even though you really wanted to go back to sleep).

The struggle to shimmy out of his arms turned to be worse than you thought and as your feet touch the cold floors of the room, you immediately want to dive back under the covers for some platonic (?) cuddling and warmth.

Before you even reach the bathroom, you give into digging through Suna’s closet for a sweater to keep you warm in the unnaturally cold apartment. Sending a mental apology and a promise to give it back later, you shrug on a sweater before making your way to the bathroom.

By the time you’re done, Suna is surprisingly still asleep under the warm covers of his bed, a visible empty space indicating your stay. Maybe I could sneak back in— Before you can take another step towards the bed, your stomach squeals with the urge to eat. Pressing your lips tightly together, you restrain yourself from getting back in the bed and instead turn to venture further into the apartment.

Though you had an assumption that Suna was also a college student, you were still shocked to find yourself face-to-face with the person who seemed to be his roommate—a girl who seemed to be not much younger than you.

Your jaw slackens, mind racing to find something, to at least say good morning but the girl beats you to it. “Are you the girl Tarou brought home yesterday?” Tarou? Even if it were in a different context, meeting a stranger coming out of your roommate's room at six in the morning has never made a good impression on anyone, but you nod.

“Um, we didn’t do anything! I was just drunk and stupid—and really lucky, but I’ll leave now if you want—” A laugh cuts into your sentence, making you watch with wide eyes as the girl attempts to quiet down for the sake of it being early in the morning. “Sorry, it’s fine, really. Stuff like that and having to do with my brother definitely isn’t any of my business.”

“Brother—are you his sister?” Finally, the girl nods with a smile. “Suna Aoi, but you can call me Aoi.” Holding out a hand, you take it as an offering to shake before introducing yourself. “Even though this looks bad, do you want some breakfast? I can try to make you something.”

Without a word, Aoi leads you out into the kitchen, sitting herself on a counter stool with her hands folded in front of her. “Yes, please.” Sharing a laugh, you familiarize yourself with their kitchen and it isn’t until you’re digging through the fridge that Aoi speaks again. “Thank you, L/n.”

“No problem, and Y/n is fine.”

—

The sizzling of food on a pan is what wakes Suna up, and immediately without another thought other than the fact that his sister can’t cook for her life, he stumbles into the kitchen to be met with an unfamiliar sight.

You, the person he took in yesterday night, in his kitchen teaching his sister how to cook food that somehow hasn’t been burnt to a crisp yet.

“And then you just wait until the bubbles start to show before flipping it. Let me get the batter.” Your eyes meet when you turn to grab the bowl filled with the thick pancake batter, your sudden silence making Aoi turn in curiosity to see her brother standing with an unreadable expression—though she makes no comment on it. “Tarou! Look, I made pancakes.”

Moving to the side, Suna can see a plate with two pancakes stacked neatly on top of each other. In other cases, he would be none other than encouraging his sister to make more for him but in this case, the only comprehensible word he can get out is an ‘oh’.

Taking his sudden awakening into account, you take the chance to let Suna clean himself up. “Are you hungry? I’ll make some for you right now. You go eat too, Aoi.” Shooing the girl out of the kitchen with a spatula in hand, you shoot Suna a look before turning to make more pancakes.

Whatever the look is supposed to mean, Suna isn’t sure he wants to know.

When Suna comes back into the kitchen, he only finds Aoi sitting at the counter with an empty plate, save for the random drizzles and puddles of maple syrup. It isn’t until Aoi points it out that Suna realizes that he’s pointedly looking for you. “They went back to their dorm, but they’ll be back soon with your clothes.”

Nodding, Suna sits himself at the counter where a plate presents itself with a stack of pancakes, an extra third one sitting on top with a smiley face drawn from syrup to which he assumes is out of gratitude for last night. “Oh, and you know how I’m moving out, right?”

Suna looks over at Aoi, eyebrows raised slightly at the vague question. “Yeah? I literally packed half of your shit, and your welcome by the way—”

“I found you a roommate.”

“You what?”

Suna puts the fork down, steaming pancake piece forgotten on the plate as he fully turns to face his sister.

After breaking the news of moving out, Aoi had suggested Suna get a new roommate out of concern for his wellbeing (suggested being “get a roommate”). Though in all honesty, Suna was hoping to have a chance to live on his own for the first time—

“Oh, sounds like your roommate’s back.”

“What? They’re coming today?” With no time to ready himself, Suna watches as Aoi opens the door to reveal you in a pair of fresh clothes.

“The good thing is that you’ve already met them.” With arms in the air and jazz hands shaking, Aoi presumably introduces you as Suna’s new roommate.

“Hi, Suna. I’m L/n Y/n, your new roommate.”

Suna looks down at your outstretched hand, only going to take it in his own when he realizes that he never got your name in all of the time spent with you.

“Better start remembering then.” Aoi’s words reach his ears in a low voice, and Suna realizes that in the midst of his shocked state, he must have muttered his words aloud.

Fuck.

But maybe the morning did work in his favor.

Extra:

Looking up from your phone, you observe the cafe in its daylight image before turning to Suna beside you. “Damn, how’d you get around that counter in time to catch me? That shit’s long.” Without looking up from his own phone, Suna replies without a stutter.

“Oh please, I could see your drunk ass coming from a mile away.”

#tea stained letters 🍵#suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #suna rintaro imagine #suna rintarou x reader #hq x reader #hq x self insert #suna x y/n #haikyuu x reader

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