#Im so obsessed with these three but god damn do I want to quit my job and just write everything | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

echotoyou · 2 years ago

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JADE OH MY GOODNESS THE QUIPS ALREADY HAVE ME BY THE THROAT AHHHHHH

More bitter than the taste on your tongue is the realization that you might die with it

*i* died laughing

You can faint on top of the finish line, so long as some part of you crosses it.

HAHAHAHA oh NO

You should be used to it by now, running a marathon at a dead sprint. That’s all you’ve ever done — push yourself. You attended your first day of preschool and never stopped, never took a breath. Through elementary, middle, and high school; then for four years of university. Going, going, going.

oh dear lord that’s me jade how could you perceive me like this

Your concept of self is rooted exclusively within the context of a classroom.

OH DEAR LORD JADE

ok i didn’t go to law school but i did go to grad school and the hellsat is the funniest thing i’ve heard it called

might have been the start of a quarter-life crisis.

have you heard this song (https://open.spotify.com/track/7BmpRLqZg1vLheYi1SI1Rw?si=NuKNeoAQTAK-ctr-p8aGpw) bc YES CAN CONFIRM

After all, you’d spent nineteen years delaying gratification — what difference would three more make?

HAHHAAHHAAAAAAHHHHHHHH THAT IS PAINFUL AND SO TRUE

wow if only i had a seokjin disassociating next to me in orientation where would i be now WHERE

scared shitless and riddled with buyer’s remorse

HAHHAHHAHAHAHHA

MY HEART JADE THIS IS PRECIOUS

Seokjin, patron saint of breakfast sandwiches 🥹🥹🥹

GRABBY HANDS

If you try hard enough, maybe you can summon some sort of psychic energy, make it levitate towards you.

HAHHAAHAHHA

“Didn’t we go to law school because we can’t do math?”

SO TRUE

You swallow down the last bite of your sandwich, which you downright hoovered 😂😂😂😂

“Is this your way of asking me to Venmo you for breakfast?”

HAHHAHAHH

Over the course of three years, you’ve built up quite the case against yourself.

oh oh OH JADE

Well, the jury’s still out, but you know you’re guilty.

OMG JADE

JQBSIWOKWNSNWN

Just like that — just by Seokjin being Seokjin — the hellscape you willingly walked into gets a little brighter. Maybe, you think, you can do this. 🥹🥹🥰🥰🥰

“Great. Now, what does any of that mean?”Without missing a beat, he fires back, “Does anyone know?” “Absolutely not. Next question!”

HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

There’s one person he responds to, no matter what.

eeeeeeee!!!

None of the breakfast sandwiches he ever stops for are.

oh my oh my oh my

ITS ALL LATIN 😂😂😂

You give his knee a pat that feels a tiny bit patronizing, but that makes his pulse race, nonetheless.

EEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

omg he is so DOWN BAD JADE THIS IS PRECIOUS

OMG THE GAME

AHHHHH THEYRE SO CUTE

Fuck, he wants to get you off. 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

He’s not scared shitless, not really. Not when you’re around. 🥺🥺🥺

OH. MY. FUCKING. JADE. GOD. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

HAHAHHA THEYRE SUCH NERDS I LOVE THEM

He seems more than content just to hold onto you, whether or not he needs you to keep him steady. You have no complaints, for once in your life. 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

To your surprise, he’s not smirking. Not even close. If anything, he looks awestruck. Like he’s finally realizing what he does to you

ICHAHAIKFNAJSJJFHAJKDNBDS AHHHHHHH

It’s petal soft and subak sweet, but it functions like a defibrillator. 😩😩😩😩

and every meaningful thought you’ve ever had goes flying out the fucking window

HAHAHHAHAHA SO TRUE BESTIE SO TRUE

🥰💕😂😮‍💨🤪🤗✨☺️

JADE IM SCREAMING I WANT SO MUCH MORE OF THEM AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

absolutely obsessed when two people are whipped for each other oh my gosh this had excellence of a 400,000 word 30 chapter slow burn IN SEVEN THOUSAND WORDS

JADE

WHAT

they are just too darn sweet and their back and forth banter is EVERYTHING. this had me dying laughing every other line (the law jokes got me EVERY DAMN TIME) there’s no way this is your first jin smut no WAY he’s PERFECT

holy damn i’m gonna need a min (or five 🤪) have i told you recently that i love you?!?! and your BRILLIANT brain?!?!?

meet me at the bar (ksj)

You're supposed to be staring down the barrel of the last — and most important — examination of your life, but you only have eyes for your study buddy.

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x AFAB!Reader Type: One Shot | Fluff w/ Smut | 18+ — Minors DNI Word Count: 7.5k AU: Law school, study-buddies, best friends to lovers, highly educated idiots in love CW: Bad jokes, Latin, fingering (v), unprotected sex (p in v), Seokjinnie hits it from the back. A/N: My inaugural Seokjin smut is dedicated to my donsaeng-in-law (see what I did there?) @yoongiphoria, who is now embarking on this stupid, stupid gatekeeping journey IRL. Best of luck, my lil love. I'll be waiting for you on the other side of the war! MJ FIGHTING ~ Big ups to my other lil love, M, for beta reading 💕 Also: This is written based on my experience in the American legal (educational) system. I was, frankly, too lazy to study up on South Korean law for a fanfic, lol. ⚠️ 18+ only ⚠️ minors and ageless blogs will be blocked, on sight. my content is not for you. i do not want to interact with you. please respect my boundaries.

You are not spiraling.

You are a paragon of health and wellness, you tell yourself as you gulp down a mug of coffee that is still far too hot, like you’ll die without it.

More bitter than the taste on your tongue is the realization that you might die with it — your third cup in fewer hours. As far as you can tell, though, it’s a win-win situation: You’ll either generate enough anxious energy to finalize your property law flashcards, or you’ll drop dead before you have to review them.

And you won’t have to take that exam…

And you won’t have to pay off your student debt…

Besides, you figure, the stomach ulcer you’re likely inflicting on yourself will be infinitely less painful than dragging your under-caffeinated corpse through yet another day of studying. Another eight, consecutive hours spent forcing forgotten subjects back into your maxed-out brain.

It’s worth it, you repeat to yourself, though this gauntlet has turned out to be a full-time job that steals, rather than pays. You can faint on top of the finish line, so long as some part of you crosses it.

Stumbling through that eighteenth lap around the track, you kept going because — well, being a student all was all you’d ever been. That’s your toxic trait, you’ve since discovered. Your concept of self is rooted exclusively within the context of a classroom.

You didn’t know it at the time, but your decision to take the Law School Admission Test — or the HellSAT, as you’ve come to call it — might have been the start of a quarter-life crisis. But you didn’t stop there. No, you took that score and ran with it. Slapped it onto every application as a desperate plea for acceptance.

When you received your admission letter, you were a bright-eyed twenty-two-year-old with a bachelor’s degree and a vaguely defined dream.

Call it naïveté or call it gravitas, there wasn’t a doubt in your smooth little brain that law school was the logical next step to take. That being intelligent and hard-working made you well-equipped for the challenge that came with pursuing a Juris Doctor. After all, you’d spent nineteen years delaying gratification — what difference would three more make?

Within the first hour of your orientation, you — a professional student — had already learned something new: You were a masochist and, frankly, somewhat of an idiot.

Thankfully, you weren’t alone.

Sitting — dissociating, more like — at a nearby table was a lanky boy you’d first noticed on your tour of the law building. His glassy-eyed stare was aimed somewhere in the middle-distance, and even though his slightly agape mouth said nothing, it communicated everything. He was the only other person in that atrium who looked the way you felt: scared shitless and riddled with buyer’s remorse. A can crushed under the boot of self-doubt.

It was the first time you and your wobbly knees went running in his direction, but it wouldn’t be the last.

He was so deep in a daze at that moment that he didn’t notice the way you threw yourself into the open chair next to him, didn’t look up at the scrape of wooden legs against the granite floor beneath them. He nearly jumped out of his skin when you announced your presence with words, however.

It was less of an introduction — the way people in a society tend to greet each other for the first time, ever — and more of a twister. Words whipped through the air at a dangerously high velocity, no syllable ending before you started on the next. Just one breath, a few consonants, and a pair of dark eyebrows shooting up to cower behind his bangs.

“Was — was that Korean?” He asked when you finally ran out of wind.

Judging by the way his wide eyes softened, you knew he wasn’t making fun of you. You’d simply scrambled his brain so thoroughly that you’d transcended the known limits of language.

More of a question than an answer, you peeped, “I think so. Maybe?” You wavered with a sigh. “I’m no longer confident that I know any of the things I thought I knew, though. So, um, don’t quote me on that.”

“You’re giving me too much credit. I didn’t catch enough of whatever that was,” he gestured vaguely, “To even attempt to quote you.”

Within seconds and without knowing, he’d disarmed the bomb ticking away in your gut. He must’ve sensed it, too, because his face lit up so completely that you had to look away. One glance at the floor-to-ceiling windows confirmed that the sun hadn’t reappeared at that time of night.

That rush of warmth you felt then — that absolutely insane brightness — was powered exclusively by the grin taking up the entirety of his face. If that megawatt smile alone hadn’t rerouted your oncoming anxiety attack, the distinct, squeaking laugh that erupted out of his chest would’ve done the job.

You doubled over, either under the weight of your own giggling or with the relief you felt in finding someone equally lost. Eyes swimming with mirth, you wiped wetness from your cheekbone and snorted, “Was that a windshield wiper?”

“No, that was embarrassing.”

The tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks went some dizzy shade of pink.

He rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck with one hand and held the other out to shake yours, “And I’m Kim Seokjin.”

Now, when the door of your apartment flies open without warning, it’s that same savior standing on your threshold. That designation may be melodramatic, but if that brown paper bag contains what you suspect it does, it’s deserved.

Seokjin, patron saint of breakfast sandwiches, flops down on the couch that stretches along the opposite side of your coffee table. From where you sit on the floor — hunched over your notes like a hobgoblin — you reach out your expectant arms and make grabby hands in the space between you.

You see mischief flash in his eyes, but only for a second. In the next, he’s pretending like he doesn’t see you; doesn’t hear your petulant little whines. He extends long legs out over the cushions, clutches the bag to his chest, and lets his head roll back to rest on the couch’s arm.

“Wanna know what I did today instead of practice essays?” He asks, eyes unfocused on the ceiling above.

All you actually want is whatever that smell is. You can’t stop staring at the bag of food in his hands. If you try hard enough, maybe you can summon some sort of psychic energy, make it levitate towards you.

He doesn’t wait for your response. “The math.”

“Huh?”

You frown; and as you do, you reluctantly shift your gaze from Seokjin’s hands to his face. He isn’t looking your way, but you can tell he’s grimacing based solely on the way his jaw twitches. It’s a miracle he hasn’t ground his teeth to dust over the past three years, given how often he makes that face.

In an attempt to ease the tension in his posture, you snort, “Didn’t we go to law school because we can’t do math?”

He cracks an unwilling smile. A tiny one, but a smile nonetheless. Without turning his head, he extends his arm out in your direction. In the split second it takes for yours to spring forward like a snake, that blessed bag dangles; the scent of sausage, egg, and cheese wafts through the air and restores your will to live. Clutching your prize, halfway to feral, you tear into it without hesitation.

As you bite off more than you can chew, Seokjin prepares his rant with a sigh, “So, consider this.”

“Mmphf,” you advise through a mouthful of greasy bliss.

“Bar exam prep takes eight weeks, right? If we’re only counting business days, that’s forty — forty days, for a minimum of eight hours each.”

He becomes more restless, the more he talks. Heated, he sits bolt upright and turns wild-eyed to you.

Oh, he’s gone full-tilt insane.

“Three-hundred-and-twenty hours, then. And if you think about that in terms of our clerk wages —” He slaps his hands down on his thighs for emphasis. “— at 2,625 won per hour —”

Then, he points to you, as if the increasing volume of his voice wasn’t already holding you hostage. “— we’ve sacrificed nearly two million won in income, just by studying for this fucking test.”

You swallow down the last bite of your sandwich, which you downright hoovered while Seokjin took the path of most resistance. After clearing your throat, your interjection overlaps with his next point:

“Seokjinnie, why didn’t you just double our monthly —”

“That’s after we paid ninety million in tuition, hundreds of thousands on study materials and registration fees —”

You cut him off, “Is this your way of asking me to Venmo you for breakfast?”

He freezes, caught fully off-guard. Shocked eyes widen like you’re the ridiculous one. “Of course not!”

He waves you off like his thoughtful gesture is no big deal. Then, like he’s tired himself out, he sinks back onto your couch. From his back, he grumbles with crossed arms, “‘M just sayin’ that I’m tired of this shit.”

You can’t help but giggle at the pathetic pout working down the corners of his mouth. “Felt,” you agree, though it feels a little bit like a lie.

Truth be told, you feel more awake now than you did ten minutes ago, and you can’t attribute it to the coffee — not when the evidence so clearly indicates otherwise.

Over the course of three years, you’ve built up quite the case against yourself. You’ve made the following findings of fact:

Whenever he pops up, Seokjin brings your mood up with him. Even now, as he marinates in anguish on your couch, his presence gives you a reason not to beat yourself unconscious with the four-kilogram prep book that sits beside you on the rug. Makes you hate your circumstances a little less, if only because you share them with him.

And, for a rapidly deflating balloon, you have to concede that Seokjin looks stunning this morning.

Unlike you and your day-three hair, he somehow had the energy to wash his. The mid-sections of some strands are still damp; the parts that aren’t frame his face in fluffy waves. His shampoo is something fruity mixed with something crisp — grapefruit and mint, maybe? — and it floods your senses, causing question marks to replace any coherent thoughts you might otherwise have. You’d be lying again if you said you didn’t want to find out for sure how soft those tresses really are.

The verdict?

Well, the jury’s still out, but you know you’re guilty.

If being down this bad for your best friend isn’t a criminal offense, it should be.

You shake your head to clear it. To smother the flame licking up the inside of your belly, you grab the certified mood killer off the coffee table and hold it up in front of you. Surely, the cure for a sexual tension headache is an eight-centimeter stack of color-coded, neon index cards covered in information you shouldn’t need to memorize in the first place.

“Exam’s in one week,” you say with a shiver.

Seokjin rolls onto his side to look forlornly at you. You are not looking at his bare hip bone, which appears where the hem of his shirt shifts from the waistband of his joggers. Nope.

You continue the search for the point you’re trying to make. “I can barely spell mortgage, let alone explain what the fuck to do with one.”

“Don’t think I know what land even is at this point,” he sighs. Dejected, he lets his arm go limp. It spills off the edge of the cushion and dangles until his knuckles brush against the rug. “What is this property you speak of?”

Biting back a grin is impossible, so you press your lips together instead. Just like that — just by Seokjin being Seokjin — the hellscape you willingly walked into gets a little brighter. Maybe, you think, you can do this.

You look down for a moment to shuffle up the cards you spent the better part of two days preparing. As you stare down at the staggering amount of knowledge you might be tested on, you can feel the crease returning between your eyebrows. Your grimace is back, too, like a reflex.

If you make it through this experience without premature wrinkles, you’ll be shocked.

There’s shifting on the couch ahead, but you don’t look up until Seokjin breezes, “From this angle, it almost looks like you’re smiling.”

His arm is no longer dangling off the edge of the couch. His entire upper body is. Knees now hinged over the backrest for balance, he’s upside-down and smirking impishly at you.

He has to know you’re in love with him, right? How could he expect you not to be?

You clear your throat and arch a single eyebrow as a challenge. “What is the rule against perpetuities, Seokjinnie?”

Like you, he can recite it in full at a machine-gun rate of fire. It’s been beaten so far into your heads that you might utter it on your deathbeds, with your last gasping breaths.

“No interest in land is good unless it must vest, if at all, not later than twenty-one years after some life in being at the creation of the interest,” he responds with a smug smile. “Easy.”

It’s your turn to smirk.

“Great. Now, what does any of that mean?”

Without missing a beat, he fires back, “Does anyone know?”

“Absolutely not. Next question!”

Having had the same day, every day, for seven weeks straight, Seokjin is struggling. He’s spent hundreds of hours on the same routine, feeling beaten down and burnt out, all the while. It goes like this:

Every morning, he wakes up and goes for a run in a feeble attempt to feel something other than dread. After that, he eats a lackluster breakfast, and then he promptly chains himself to his desk. When he finally gives himself permission to get up again, it’s dark out; and he’s too brain dead to check the hundred or so notifications that amassed on his phone during his fugue state.

Scratch that. There’s one person he responds to, no matter what. As far as everyone else is concerned, though, he’s a ghost.

Today is the first day out of the last fifty-five where Seokjin doesn’t feel like his brain is being hydraulically pressed. For the first time in too long, he fell into an old routine; one he’s missed. It started with a shower — and honestly, that was overdue — then, he swung by the café he’s frequented over the past three years. There, he made his usual order.

One iced americano, and one sausage-egg-and-cheese croissant with extra hot sauce.

Before he walked back up the block, he downed the former, but he didn’t touch the latter. The latter wasn’t for him, anyways. None of the breakfast sandwiches he ever stops for are.

The subsequent hours looked semi-similar to the three-hundred-and-twenty he’s already devoted to studying. Well, sort of. To be clear, the subject matter still sucks, and he’s still angry that he has to touch it at all, but he isn’t waiting for the sweet release of death in the same way he has been all summer.

This might have something to do with the fact that, for the first time in nearly sixty days, he’s not on his own.

More than that, he’s with you.

Having switched away from covenants, easements, and servitudes, he feels a slightly less stupid. Contract law is a little more straightforward and a little less caked in colonialism. Unfortunately, after six hours of burning all his brain cells on shit like liens, Seokjin has begun his descent into madness.

The worms are digging in, he can’t focus, and neither of you can stop — fucking — laughing.

“I’ll give you a hint,” you giggle, shifting in your spot on the neighboring cushion. You give his knee a pat that feels a tiny bit patronizing, but that makes his pulse race, nonetheless. “It’s a Latin term.”

He snorts so loudly that you do a double-take, just to make sure it wasn’t a sneeze. You both stare at one another for a beat, then comes the eruption.

“It’s all Latin!” He roars.

To muffle the way he’s wheezing, Seokjin slaps his hands over his face. It’s already tear-stained from his abject failure to keep his shit together. At least he can attempt to hide how red he knows it is.

Your laugh comes straight from your belly. You double over completely when his comes out in squeaks, hand reaching out to squeeze his forearm. It used to bother him, the sound he made when he truly loses it, but it doesn’t any more.

How could it, when it makes you cling to him like that?

Wiping at your cheeks, you take a deep breath, then sigh, “Does it help if I give you the translation?”

He doubts it because you just pinched your bottom lip between your teeth, and now, his mind is blank.

Really, it’s a fucking miracle he graduated at all with you around. You and that face you make when you concentrate have always made it impossible for him to do so. It’s why he wasn’t paying attention in class when this shit was taught in the first place, he realizes now.

To cool himself down, Seokjin grabs the Camelbak bottle off the coffee table, realizes too late it’s yours and not his — oh, well — and shoves the straw into his mouth. He nods once, firmly, and sucks in as much water as he can.

It all sprays back out of his mouth when you say:

“Naked promise.”

He had always wondered what his life would look like if it ever flashed before his eyes. Now, he knows. It’s not a montage of his finest moments, the most recent of which would not have made the cut. All he sees is you, wide-eyed, glancing between him and the wet spot that’s now soaking through your sweatshirt.

You press your lips together, probably to keep from laughing in his face. It’s a valiant effort on your part and a kind gesture, but honestly, he doesn’t deserve it. His fingers twitch as he clutches the bottle, wanting nothing more than to dump the remaining water on his face. He embarrasses himself more often than not, but this stings his cheeks like a sunburn.

“I am —” he raises his hands, flustered, “So sorry. I don’t remember waking up in a sitcom this morning, but I, uhhh, clearly did.”

When you stand up, you’re grinning. And not in that scary way you do when you’re about to retaliate for some prank he’s pulled. No, that look on your face is genuine amusement.

Thank god.

You shrug as you cross your arms over your torso and grip the hem of your sweatshirt with both hands. “All good, Seokjinnie,” you laugh. “This needed to be washed, anyway. You see that coffee stain?”

No.

No, he does not see that coffee stain because the tank top underneath your sweatshirt is clinging to the wet spot as you tug the top layer up your stomach. He feels bad for staring — really, he does — but fuck, your skin looks soft. Like, so soft that he has to grip his water bottle to keep a grip on himself.

Eventually, your tank top separates from your sweatshirt. It falls back down to where it belongs, to Seokjin’s dismay, and the sweatshirt keeps going.

“Nudum pactum,” you remind him as you pull the drenched hoodie over your head. Playfully, you toss it at him. It smacks against his chest, splays out over his lap.

Once more with feeling: thank god.

You sink back down beside him on the couch, and he can’t help but notice that you’re the tiniest bit closer than you were before. It’s innocent, just your bare knee bumping his shin as you re-cross your legs. Still, it leaves his tingling through the fabric of his joggers when you don’t move away.

The silence surges as it settles, crinkling like static in his ears. He almost doesn’t hear you when you ask him again: “What’s it mean?”

Uhhhh.

“It means —”

Unfortunately for him, the water he just forcibly ejected from his mouth didn’t help him. His throat is dry now, and he sounds strangled, he’s sure. The way you’re watching him so intently doesn’t help one fucking bit, either.

Are you doing that on purpose?

You nudge him physically this time, knuckles connecting gently and playfully with his leg. He wonders if you can hear his heart hammering against the wall of his chest in all of this quiet. You might, he figures, especially when you tuck your hair behind your ear.

Instinctively, his eyes flick down to the length of your neck. Without a curtain of hair in the way, it’s even more exposed skin that he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with. Making matters worse for him, you tilt your head to the side expectantly. His breath catches when he tears his gaze away, back up, and sees the way you’re looking at him now.

You are absolutely — without a goddamn doubt — doing this on purpose.

If that’s the game you want to play, Seokjin can play it, too. He turns away from you to set the bottle back down on the coaster he took it from. As he does, he finally answers your question — the nonchalance he’s faking even sounds convincing.

“It’s an unenforceable promise,” he replies casually. “One with insufficient consideration.”

He rights himself in his seat, stretches a bit further backwards until he’s resting comfortably against the arm of the couch. You hide it well, but there’s a hint of a pout on your lips when you clock the newfound distance.

Check, he smirks to himself, your move.

A flash of pink slips out. Your tongue wetting those lips before you prompt him more quietly than before, “And consideration is…?”

He slips up, makes the mistake of noticing the rise and fall of your chest as you take measured breaths. So, he sees, you’re buzzing with anticipation, too. He wonders if it’s him that’s having that effect on you, or the circumstances.

For all he knows, it could be pent up steam that you need to release. Stress weighing down your body that you want to get off.

Fuck, he wants to get you off.

He swallows thickly. “Can’t get something for nothing. There has to be an exchange, otherwise it’s meaningless.”

You say nothing, so he keeps talking.

“Quid pro quo, essentially,” Seokjin adds. He chuckles slightly when he realizes. “See? Told you. It’s all fucking Latin.”

The corner of your mouth twitches at his joke, but you don’t make a sound. The hand that previously pushed against his leg inches closer, just barely. It’s such a small shift that you don’t seem to realize that you’re moving it.

Maybe you feel that pull, too; the one he’s been fighting since you barged into his life without warning.

Maybe the consideration has been there from the start; a promise for a promise. I’ll jump if you do. Because it’s always been that way, hasn’t it? Since orientation.

Pulling all-nighters in the library, developing matching caffeine dependencies, getting sick too often from the strain of it all.

You and him.

Laughing quietly in the back of lectures, cold sweats through cold calls, bitching about unpaid internships while you spend indisposable income at the bar down the block without acknowledging the irony.

There are only two real differences between this night and that first one, he notes.

Now, Seokjin isn’t questioning every decision he’s ever made that led him to this point. He’s not scared shitless, not really. Not when you’re around.

You cut through the silence with a sigh that’s barely more than an exhale, so breathy that your voice dissipates as soon as it hits the air.

“Seokjin.”

He could probably hear a pin if you dropped one — can hear everything you don’t say. It’s all packed tight inside that utterance of his name like gunpowder, locked and loaded.

So, who shoots first?

You shift again. Now, when you speak, it’s deliberate and in a language he can parse.

“Tell me you want me, too.”

Bang!

His body answers for him, pushes off from where he leans until he can get his knees underneath him. He’s waited three years to kiss you, but he can delay gratification for the brief time it takes to overtake you. Pinned with his palms bearing weight on either side of your head, you wind up caged in and breathless beneath him. His right knee occupies the space between your spread thighs.

Again, it’s a miracle he’s made it this far with you around.

He hums, beyond pleased with the position he finds himself in. “Maybe. Tell me if I got the answer right.”

“Oh my god.” You toss your head back to the extent that you can, which admittedly isn’t far. Your frustration rolls off you in waves, heat palpable. “I’ll kill you, I swear.”

“Sounds admissible to me,” he teases further. He flexes an eyebrow. “Isn’t that an exception to the prohibition of hearsay evidence? Speaks to motive, I think.”

Seokjin has no idea why he’s riling himself up like this. If he could shut up — just this once — he could be kissing you by now. You seem to be aware of that fact, too, because you grip his shirt so desperately, one right move might tear it.

You huff out a laugh despite the circumstances, “This friendship is over, by the way, in case that’s not clear.”

That tiny smile on your face spreads to his. Not over, he knows, just modified. Amplified, finally. Knowing that, he continues to push his luck.

“Can I make one more joke?”

“So over!” You emphasize with a wail.

He takes a second to center himself before hitting you with award-winning drama, sincerity dipped in the kind of humor he never misses out on with you:

“You have adversely possessed my heart.”

Your jaw drops at how stupid that line was, but you reign it in just in time for his lips to crash into yours.

It almost knocks the wind out of him, the way the pieces fall with force into place. They slot together easily, just like you do. With fingers clinging, the weight of his body molding overtop of yours.

You kiss him until he forgets what life tasted like without your tongue licking into him, your little moans melting in his mouth — until you break apart, gasping for air. Panting, you ask, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting on you?”

He doesn’t, no, not at all. Thankfully, you take his stunned silence for what it’s worth. After relinquishing your grip on his shirt, you bring your hands up to cup his face gently in your palms.

With you touching him like this, he has no option but to stare down at you. Bit redundant, he thinks, since his focus has always been locked right here, right on you, by choice. Given that, it’s a little funny that he managed to miss every signal you’ve apparently sent him. But really, it doesn’t necessarily surprise him to hear that he’s even dumber than he thought.

You kiss him slowly this time, briefly, before nipping affectionately at his bottom lip. It drives him exactly as crazy as you want it to; makes his cock twitch inside his joggers, makes his brain foggy with a potent combination of fondness and filth.

Do you have any idea how many times he’s thought about this? He’s genuinely wondering because even he doesn’t know. He’s lost count of all the times he’s watched you nibble on your own lip and wished it was his instead. A million or more, if he has to guess.

Seeming to sense the way you've scrambled his brain, you nudge the tip of his nose with yours and giggle.

Seokjin can’t help but grin. “What’s so funny?”

“Thought of a good one,” you answer. Your smirk does his head in. The contrasting, goofy wiggle of your eyebrows squeezes his heart. “Better than yours, I think.”

He kisses you quick and hums, “Oh?”

You nod.

The suspense is killing him. So is the way your clothed cunt grinds ever so slightly against his thigh.

Fuck.

He wants you, he wants you, he wants you.

“You gonna make me come, Seokjin, or do I have to wait for you to file a subpoena?”

You may have to seek a refund for the prep course you paid for.

For as long as you can remember, you’ve learned best through application. You could read the same chapter, over and over, and not absorb a word. The same was true with lectures, even more so when they’re pre-recorded rambles by the weirdest adjunct professors known to man. Sure, you may eventually memorize concepts this way, but they don’t sink in deeply enough to stay. You can’t use them in any way that helps you.

To no one’s surprise, no part of your civil procedure lecture sticks until it falls into your lap.

Strike that.

Until Seokjin loses his balance in trying to take his pants off, and falls onto your floor with a yelp.

A moment or two passes while you stare at each other in shock, but that dissolves quickly. And so do both of you, right into another fit of laughter that makes your shoulders shake. Then, you jump to your feet and hold your hands out to him.

Seokjin accepts them, though he doesn’t rely on them at all when he stands back up. He seems more than content just to hold onto you, whether or not he needs you to keep him steady. You have no complaints, for once in your life.

Shaking his head, he chuckles, “Venue change?”

“I think —” You hum and kiss the column of his throat. He swallows hard enough that you feel his Adam’s apple bob against your lips. So sensitive. “This is what they call forum non conveniens.”

He’s having none of that, and you don’t necessarily blame him. As it turns out, the shoe isn’t terribly comfortable when it’s on the other foot.

You’re lifted without warning, bent over his shoulder, and hauled off in the direction of your bedroom before you can even squeak in protest. You drop like a bag of dirt — albeit a beloved bag of dirt — onto your mattress once he reaches it; his lips are on yours to swallow the gasp before it can leave your mouth.

As eager as his mouth are his hands, roaming down the curve of your waist and over your hips. With fistfuls of the pajama shorts you hadn’t bothered to change out of, his head dips down under your jaw. The warmth of his breath is quickly replaced by that of his tongue, flicking a short, languid line along your neck.

“Want you so fucking bad,” he breathes. A shiver shoots straight down your spine and you keen, head crashing gracelessly back against the pillows. “Just like this.”

And he means it — you can feel how true it is with him settled between your spread legs. He presses his hips forward to meet your clothed cunt, cock teasing you through four goddamn layers’ worth of fabric.

His lips flutter against your earlobe just seconds before his teeth graze your flesh. He continues, voice vibrating through his chest to yours, “All the time.”

You outright whimper when he grinds against you a second time. Halfway to crazy, you knot your fingers in his hair and wrap your legs around his back in a silent plea for friction. So hungry for him that it aches.

“Seokjin, need — oh, god.”

You lose your train of thought the second his hand slides into the gap between your bodies. Long fingers slip below the waistband of your shorts and panties, too. He doesn’t stop there. Not with fingertips whispering over the mound of your cunt, not until he finds you wet and wanting.

So wet that you can hear it when the pad of his index finger runs along your slit.

His mouth curves against your neck, prompting you to shift your head on the pillow. You tilt your neck just enough to meet his eyes.

To your surprise, he’s not smirking. Not even close. If anything, he looks awestruck. Like he’s finally realizing what he does to you, how your body reacts to him. From the looks of it, that discovery is flipping his whole damn world upside down.

For once, Seokjin doesn’t crack a joke and neither do you. It’s quiet, save for your tiny gasping breaths and the ripple of his fingertip swirling over your clit. Even the moan building in your chest gets the memo. It disappears somewhere in your throat when — fucking finally — that middle finger penetrates you.

And god, he sounds so wrecked when he finally speaks.

“Tried to imagine it a thousand times, you know,” he murmurs.

You clench around his finger as it curls upwards, shiver when he starts to stroke the sensitive spot along your front wall. His thumb picks up where his middle finger left off, pressing against your clit in a way that makes you mewl.

Seokjin only stops talking to kiss you deep and leave you dizzy. It’s too brief. If asked, you’d never be able to quantify what amount of time is enough, but you know that wasn’t, so you pout.

Ignoring your little whines, he continues with a hum, “How perfect you’d feel, if I ever got this lucky.”

Oh, Jesus Christ.

You laugh as you say it, but you’re dead serious: “If you keep talking to me like that, you’ll never be able to get rid of me.”

Marry me, why don’t you? Beautiful bastard.

“Threat or promise?”

He adds a second finger; and suddenly, you’re not laughing anymore. No, the strangled sound you make while you grind against his palm isn’t funny at all, but you can’t care about that now. Your focus is stuck on remembering how to breathe. In, out. On the stars blinking behind your eyelids when they give up and flutter shut.

He works you open for him like he’s already attuned, like it’s the fiftieth time he’s finger-fucked you and not the very first. And, quite frankly, it’s embarrassing how little time it takes for him to pull you apart at the seams.

No one has ever made you cum with such little effort. You’re scared to learn what it’s like when he tries.

You catch the triumphant gleam in his eye in the split second before you bury your face in the crook of his neck. He’s earned it, you suppose, so you’ll let him relish the personal record he’s managed to set on his first time out. You might even let him brag about it, so long as he continues to make you tremble like this.

“Shit,” he chuckles low near your ear.

If he sounds muffled, it’s because you’re still waiting for your system to reboot. He knows this, knows how fucking sensitive you are, and slides his fingers out of you as slowly as possible. Still, those aftershocks throttle you; the unintentional stimulation makes you jolt.

“Yes,” you nod helplessly, squeezing your eyes and jaw shut simultaneously. “Shit is right. Perfect analysis, no notes.”

A chaste kiss is placed on your temple. It’s petal soft and subak sweet, but it functions like a defibrillator. Within a split second, he’s revived you. Eyes now open again, you exhume your face from where you buried it and blink up at him. Warm brown eyes light up when you reappear.

He’s so fucking beautiful that you almost want to avert your eyes. Key word: almost. You’ll drink in the sight of him until you drown, you think.

Seokjin looks concerned. With a shy smile, he checks in: “You okay? We can stop right now if you’re not.”

You don’t know who they are, but you know that they don’t make them like him anymore. Which is a fucking bummer for the rest of the world — just not for you. This one is all yours.

“You quitting on me, Kim?” You let your knee fall inwards to nudge his side, and you pretend not to notice how boneless you still feel. “Didn’t wait all this time to tap out early, did you?”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning, nonetheless. His warm palm massages the outside of your thigh affectionately, if only for a moment. Then, he pats his fingertips against the same spot. “Shorts off, champ.”

You follow his instructions and move to shimmy out of them, but not before snorting, “Champ?”

“Fine. Old sport?” He offers with a shit-eating grin. Your shirt smacks him in the face once you peel it off and chuck it at him. He pouts. “Hey!”

“Thanks, I hate it.”

He tugs his shirt over his head, launches it over his shoulder without looking. Your unabashed stare immediately clocks the slight hint of his abdominal muscles. Lean, but not sharply contoured in a way that looks painful to touch. Soft. Perfect, even.

What lab were you engineered in?

“For someone with so many opinions, you don’t offer many suggestions.” He shoots you a pointed look while he unties the knot at his waistband drawstring. “What’s your proposal?”

You’d love to bite back at him. Really, you would, but he pulls his boxers down alongside his joggers, and every meaningful thought you’ve ever had goes flying out the fucking window. All that’s left is I want you, I want you, I want you.

Automatically, you reach out with a tentative hand, craving nothing more than to feel his velvet length in your hand. To your surprise, he stops you. He catches your hand in his, lifts it to his lips, and brushes a kiss over your knuckles.

“Rain check, baby,” Seokjin smiles against your skin. There it is. That’s the one. “Need to fuck you, posthaste, or I’ll simply pass away.”

You open your mouth to comment; he breezes right past you. He points to the mattress, then to the wall to your left. “On your side, love.”

That works, too.

“Face away from me.”

Never in your life have you moved so fast, all but throwing yourself down where he told you to. As you land with a slight bounce, you mouth to yourself, Posthaste? Nerd.

A second slips by, then Seokjin slips into the space behind you. His lips tickle the back of your neck when he kisses the base of it, causing you to gasp yet again. Maybe that’s just how you breathe when he’s around — like you don’t know how.

His hand drifts down the length of your side, passing over the doughy flesh of your ass. He gives it a squeeze for good measure — because of course he does — but he doesn’t linger, not now.

That hand continues until you feel his fingertips scratch affectionately at the back of your right thigh. He doesn’t need to ask; you lift your leg, allowing your knee to hinge overtop of his hand. Now that his hands are occupied, you offer yours to assist.

This time, he doesn’t stop you when you wrap your fingers around his length. And fuck, there’s so much of it. Part of you wants to ask where the hell he thinks he’s going to fit all of it, but you’re not a quitter, so you keep your mouth shut.

Seokjin shivers under your touch, breath catching in his throat so blatantly that you can hear it right behind your ear.

“Hmmm,” you tease, squeezing the crown gently as you circle your wrist. “Does that work for you, champ?”

His forehead drops against your shoulder. The groan you force out of him is twice as long as necessary, followed by an unwilling laugh. “You’re right, okay? You’re fucking right. It’s awful. Just so fucking bad.”

Your thumb swipes over his leaking tip, smearing the bead of pre-cum waiting for you there. You’re relentless. “Sure you don’t like old sport better? Huh, buddy?”

“Baby,” he warns. There isn’t much heat to it, but it burns white hot in your core anyway.

The stretch of his cock does, too, when you finally stop fucking with him and start letting him fuck you. The breath he holds as he enters you slowly is let out in a shuddered groan when he bottoms out. Perfectly full and fully incapable of teasing him further, you simply melt back against his chest.

He’s careful to start, testing the waters and refusing to push you too far, too fast. You want more, though, you always have. Greedy, you rock your hips back against him to force him deeper into your weeping hole. He takes the hint, fingertips pressing bruises into the underside of your knee as he picks up his pace — and you’re far too blissed to care.

He pistons into you eagerly, deliberate. His hips clap against the flesh of your ass, but the sting of it all can’t compete with the way he splits you open. Makes you reach back to cling to any part of him you can get your hands on, claim whatever you find for keeps. Buried to the hilt, and somehow, he’s still not close enough.

You’re close, if your fluttering walls have anything to say about it. You’re babbling, too, so lost in pleasure that you can only repeat — over and over — how fucking perfect he is. How perfect for you he is.

Seokjin peppers kisses down the curve of your shoulder as he thrusts. It’s the only real indication you have that he’s at a loss for words, too; that he’s compensating for the quiet. He kisses you with an open mouth, teeth grazing the space he finds, leaves a mess on your sweat-slicked skin.

“Fuck,” he grunts. You mewl. “Can’t stop thinking about —”

“Just like that, please.”

“— how many times I could’ve —”

You wail, “Shit, Seokjin, don’t stop. I’m so close.”

The staccato strokes will be the death of you, you’re sure of it. Thankfully, he doesn’t stop. Not when he kisses the back of your neck again, and not when he murmurs directly in your ear, “— had you like this, if I’d said something years ago.”

Please, please, please.

It’s all you can say, again and again, as if he isn’t already giving you everything you want before you even ask for it. Responding to every movement you make, fucking into you with precision so that each vein of his cock brings friction where you crave it. Fucking you through your orgasm when it catches you in a riptide and sends you reeling.

“That’s it, baby.” His voice is soothing despite the recklessness of his thrusts. “So good for me. So fucking good.”

You’re still gushing when he snaps his hips forward and stills, cock twitching as he lets himself go inside of you. Still trembling when his head droops forward to nuzzle against your shoulder blade, and when you feel his breathing begin to slow in tandem with yours.

Once he pulls himself out of you, a few moments pass in fucked-out silence. It’s comfortable, if you ignore the mess between your thighs — and you do, for now. Your brain is too busy to waste time on that.

You’re exhausted and bordering on delirious when you say it, but that doesn’t make it any less true:

“I might love you, probably.”

He doesn’t respond immediately. He doesn’t move either, which makes you wonder if he’s fallen asleep with his face smushed into your bare back. But you feel the tiniest exhale through his nose; the kind of laugh you get from him when he’s too tired to be any louder.

His reply is muffled, lips still pressed against your skin, but you hear it perfectly.

For the record, he probably loves you, too.

final a/n: i have a follow-up drabble planned for these two! stay tuned 🥰

likes are always appreciated, but it's feedback that means the most — whether that's in a comment below, PM, reblog, tags, etc. tysm for reading ✨

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#jade the fluff writer extraordinaire #ksj #the one during the hellsat #to reread: slow burn on FIRE #i am obsessed with them #i want them to live VERY HAPPY LIVES #ksj x reader

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seijorhi · 3 years ago

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fic asks <33

most of these are for Sea Change and Heedless, Heartless, but there are some other misc ones in here too!

I just finished reading 'Sea Change'... It was— I don't even know how to describe how stunningly written it was! The care taken into crafting the story, to give the readers an entire movie with just words— it's amazing! Seriously, I could vividly see everything! Even little Hatori, looking like a tiny little Oikawa, I could picture Darling's crying face as they remembered everything leading up to that particular situation! It really did play out just like a beautiful, heartbreaking film in my head! I just adore your writing so much. I hope you're doing amazing. Take care!! 💙💙 - @perhapsimacat

ahh thank you my love <33 yea sea change is just... sad. cute, because hatori's so damn adorable, but i wanted sad vibes there, so i'm glad that came through! ILY!! <33 i hope ur day is going well too bby!

Rhi! How you write such good works??

i made a deal with a witch <33

Two fics in a row???? Rhi, pinch me, I must be in heaven - @artemis32

it's cuz ily so much. i gotta keep y'all fed don't i??

U ARE AMAZINGGGGGG IM CRYINGGg sREAMING for THAT iwa shsksjjsjsjsj can he bully me like that iM BEGGING

iwa: i'm not a bully like oikawa

iwa: proceeds to be just as bad if not worse than oikawa ghfjdkhfjd

love how u keep the obsession over iwaoi alive for me, two such AMAZING works n on my knees to thank u for that rhi muahhh <3<3<3

UR WELCOME BBY!! i'm just glad you liked em :)

well. well you’ve done it again. chilling work rhi!!! i have to ask—how did oikawa react when he found out you escaped? how did hatori react 😞 oh poor bubs

poor hatori :c @krystalwithakay made comment about how ANOTHER mother is abandoning him and i felt so guilty vgfdhjkcjhfdjsk SHE DIDN'T HAVE A CHOICE! but no, hatori's so confused about where his mama is because quite literally up until that point, as far back as he can remember she's spent every single day with him. he's so devastated but also too young to really understand why she's not there and giving him good morning cuddles??

oikawa on the other hand?? oof. he has to try very, very hard to keep his cool so he's not scaring hatori but boy is PISSED. also, very worried about the reader cuz she's six months pregnant with his daughter, alone and god knows fucking where.

oikawaaa

agreed <33

Amazing writing rhi!! I am absolutely screaming though at how oikawa was deserted in both fics (deserved, but god damn)

i know!! who am i?? being so mean to my beloved. but he did definitely deserve it in both fics. i like to think that sea change is more of a... temporary problem hehehe. heedless, heartless on the other hand... who's to say :))

Reader Chan’s friends and family are the worst and the school let Toru stay but kicked out reader what kind of sexist double standard is that anyway great fic reader and Hajime both need therapy tho I think Toru is beyond help

literally the standards are below the floor. everyone knows it's oikawa in the vid but because you don't technically see his face the school's like :)) welp not our problem :)) meanwhile to the reader they're all 'we have a reputation to protect this is unacceptable, begone, whore!'

there wasn't as much i was able to elaborate on with her friends and family, but her family had incredibly high expectations of her, she was very much a good student who wanted to do well and had like a five year plan and so getting kicked out of school a few months out from graduation, not to mention the reason WHY she was kicked out, yeah they were not happy. assholes the lot of them. poor reader, i still love her (and so does tooru and hajime hehe)

Do you think yan! Emma is someone who would take advantage of her family (having all three brothers in powerful gangs must be rly convenient) to get to her objective, or do you think she'd actually do the dirty work herself ?

i actually think she'd wanna keep her darling as separate from mikey/izana/shin's gang related stuff because she doesn't wanna put the reader in danger. she's not above a little dirty work herself ;))

you said koko thinks himself to be in love with reader, but do the other bonten guys think the same? like in the privacy of their own minds, can they admit they have some sort of love/fondness for reader (even if they’d never act like it or say so), or do they genuinely think of her as a toy to play with until it breaks and nothing more?

mikey knows he's in love with her, kakucho admits that he feels something for her (he's probably the only one to admit to himself that it's certainly not a healthy kinda feelings, but feelings all the same) sanzu and the twins definitely have an obsession, and there's a fondness there, but i wouldn't go so far as to call it 'love'.

whoa okay but choking and slapping? Now that’s terrifying for reader...I would have thought kaku might be a little better than the rest since he seems more calm and kinda looks out for reader? Also, I cannot imagine how terrifying sanzu’s bad day will be for reader since he’s already unstable

as i said kaku's fine on a good day, but not every day is a good day. he carries a lot of issues and guilt and maybe has slight abandonment issues (people he love tend to be taken from him) that make him a little possessive and rough at times.

sanzu's bad days mean the reader watching people die in awful ways before getting brutally fucked in/around/near their blood/bodies so yeah... not fun.

https://www.tumblr.com/mintmatcha/697660715787583488 Which Yan do you think it's

visually i'd say oikawa but tbh it could work for a lot of them

#rhi answers #fic asks #sea change #heedless heartless #sink to the depths #ily guys!!!

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princessphilly · 4 years ago

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All Bets Are Off Chapter 12

Word Count:

Tag list: @ohpuckyeah, @joelsfarabee, @besthockeyfics. @dreamer1430 @defiant-mouse @miracleonice87 @lovethepreds @linkingdolans @chicagostylehockey @heatherlcrosby87 @hockeywocs @shortstacks-blog @heatherawoowoo @newlibrary @markymarkstrom @iangiemae @puckbitchesgetmoney @missymore @himbos-on-ice @fiveholegoal @no-pucks-given @pagirl6866 @willieshakesqueer @nazdaddy @whatishockey @alphalib22 @romanseggy @laurenairay @konecny-s @cutiesara23 @myhockeyworld87 @extratragic @squidlywiddly87 @stuff4me2do @allinangel93 @mydarkestsecretlol @t0xickisses2

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CW: smut, filthy talk

This is a bit of a filler chapter, sorry.

“Are you going to miss me?”

Nina didn’t even look up from her iPad. It was so annoying yet adorable at the same time, how Sidney was desperately trying to get her to tell him how much she was going to miss him.

“Um, I think you’re going to miss me more than I’ll miss you,” Nina finally replied. She grinned as Sidney huffed.

The first month of the new year had passed by pretty quickly to Nina. After being together for New Year’s Eve, Nina and Sid separated as the Pens had to finish off their road trip. Nina stayed in Miami for Jason’s game before taking an extra week just for herself. It was nice to have a bit of a vacation, especially when Lauren flew down. Nina basically enjoyed being on the beach, hanging out with a close friend, and shopping.

The morning of New Year’s Day, after having their first breakfast together of the new year, Sid had given Nina a card. Nina was shocked to see a credit card with her name on it and she had tried to give it back but Sid had insisted. “You don’t treat yourself enough, pretty girl,” he had firmly stated. So Nina took advantage of it to treat herself a bit.

By the time she came back to Pittsburgh, Sidney’s road trip was over but Nina’s semester had started. They had a couple of weeks where they spent time together as much as possible before the Pens had another short road trip. Now, Sidney was on his way to the Olympics in Beijing for their longest separation so far.

Sidney finally had his bag packed the way that he liked it. Glancing at Nina laying on their, um, his bed, he drawled, “Are you sure you aren’t going to miss me?”

Nina looked up and giggled. “You hog the sheets, Sidney. And you’re like a furnace when you sleep.”

Sidney walked over to the bed, crouching over Nina. “Hurting my feelings right before I have to take a long flight. Tsk tsk.”

“Your flight leaves tomorrow. You’re just making sure you are totally prepared tonight. Stop being so dramatic, Sidney Crosby.”

Sidney smirked as he brushed a hand down Nina’s front. She was clothed, wearing one of his t-shirts. “Still, Nina.

“Still, Sidney.”

Nina stuck out her tongue at Sidney as he giggle-honked. Sidney brushed an errant strand of hair off of Nina’s forehead as he whispered, “I wish you were coming.”

“It was too short of a notice to take almost three weeks off, Sid,” Nina murmured. “Plus, hasn’t it always just been your family attending the Olympics?”

“Yes?”

Nina smiled. “Then, I would be breaking your tradition and your superstitions-”

Sidney opened his mouth to disagree but Nina put a finger over it. “Don’t even start, we both know how important ALL of your superstitions are. Even if you wouldn’t say it, if you lose without a gold medal and I'm there, part of you would be wondering. So quit the bullshit, Sidney.”

Sidney gave Nina a chagrined smile as she laughed at him. She was right, as always.

“Sid, it’ll be fine. You’re lucky I’m a morning person, you can call me crazy early here and I’ll pick up,” Nina reasoned.

Sidney pouted a bit. “I finally got you to actually date me, I don’t want to be separated from you for that long.”

“How cute, Mr. Obsessed-with-Hockey has become soft in his old age.”

Nina squealed when Sidney tickled her, squirming. “Okay, okay, you’re allowed to become soft!”

Sidney gave Nina a soft smile and she gulped. Something shifted in that look and Nina felt like there was something new.

Sidney bit his lip as Nina nervously laughed. In that moment, the pure joy on Nina’s face as she squealed while he tickled her, Sidney was sure that he loved her. He loved Nina. But this was the wrong time to admit that. So he chuckled and said, “If I’m soft, it’s only because of you.”

Nina stuck out her tongue and rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Sidney chose not to respond to that statement, instead choosing to slide his lips over hers. Soft and sweet, exploratory as they kissed, not their usual hungry kisses. Then Nina wrapped a leg around Sidney’s waist and the mood changed.

Nina ended the kiss first, whispering, “I can feel that someone is going to really miss me.”

“Going to miss you so much,” Sidney replied, grinding his hips into Nina’s core. “Let me show you.”

Nina gasped as Sidney sucked along her neck, just light enough not to leave any marks. “Gonna give you something to remember while I’m gone,” Sidney promised as his hands went under her shirt before pulling it off.

Nina grinned before moaning as Sidney began to do exactly what he promised to do.

Sidney sighed as he sent the text. Everything was going great, even after a couple of hiccups in their first group stage games. This year, it was obvious to Sidney that this was going to be the last Olympics for him. Except for him, Tazer, Bergy, Tanger, Webs, Price, and Giroux, all of the other players on the team were under 30. Sidney saw his job as captain this year to not just get one more gold, but get the younger guys ready to take over.

Right now, they were getting ready to play against Germany, their first game after the group stage, the real games. It was before pregame; the players whose families had come to Beijing were giving well-wishes. At this moment, Sidney wished Nina was here with him instead of home in Pittsburgh.

His phone pinged and Sidney relaxed when he saw the message: its midnight here. Good luck. Im g2g2 sleep. Bye

That message was quickly followed by another one: why the hell did they schedule yall for so fucking late? figured canada would be primetime here

Sidney laughed when he saw Nina’s message. Giroux looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Must be the elusive girlfriend.”

Giroux’s wife elbowed him, causing him to say ow. Sidney snickered; they may be teammates for Team Canada but their truce was still a fragile truce. Ryanne Giroux said, “I heard Nina’s very sweet and kind.”

“Oh?”

Sidney was suddenly very curious. Blithely, Ryanne replied, “You know as well as I do it’s a small league. People only have the kindest things to say about her.”

Relaxing a bit, Sidney grinned. “Nina’s pretty fucking amazing. I’m lucky she likes me.”

“Oh God, he’s talking about Nina again.”

Sidney’s grin turned into a smile as Tanger clasped him on the back. Tanger continued, “It took five years-”

“Five years,” Giroux asked as Sidney groaned. “Stop giving him chirp material.”

Ryanne snickered as Sidney’s phone pinged again; kris says ur bragging about me again?

“Really, Tanger, really?”

Kris laughed as Sidney narrowed his eyes. “Calm down, Sid.”

Before Sidney could reply, Nina sent him another text: score a hat trick

Sidney gave his phone a soft smile. It was time to get focused for the game, so Sidney put his phone away as soon as he went back into the locker room.

Nina cracked an eye open. The time difference was a motherfucker; it was 5:45 am but 5:45pm. Yawning, Nina sat up in her bed as she accepted the call from Sid.

“Nina, really?”

“Good morning to you,” Nina yawned.

Sid slightly frowned. Nina was wearing a team USA t-shirt. Her shorts were blue. Even her sleep bonnet was blue.

“I’m not Canadian, Sid.”

“Stilll-“

Nina smirked as she shook her head. “No, I’m not rooting for you. Score as many goals as you want, I’m Team USA.”

Sidney scowled as Nina laughed. “It’s not even like the US made the gold medal game!”

Nina was disappointed in Team USA. She was hoping they would make it to the gold medal game but they were going to go against Finland for Bronze. Tomorrow, at 8am Beijing Time, 8pm EST, Canada was going against Sweden for gold.

“Still, you should be rooting for me.”

“I am,” Nina reasoned. “I want you to score all the goals. But, I just cannot root for Canada, yet.”

“Yet.”

Nina looked up to the ceiling before yawning again. Sidney was in a snit. She felt a tiny bit bad for Sweden because they were going to get it. But that wasn’t her problem. “Seriously, good luck, Sidney.”

“Thank you, Nina.”

Nina blew Sidney a kiss and he pretended to catch it. Then he licked his lips. “How many days did you take off when I get back?”

“Three, Sidney. Just three.”

Nina couldn’t help the rush of heat in her center when Sidney drawled, “I don’t plan to let you out of my house then.”

“Win the damn gold then,” Nina snapped.

Sidney chuckled, saying, “You’re ready to go back to sleep then. Sweet dreams, Nina.”

“Bye, Sid.”

Nina looked down at her phone. There were three messages, long messages, all from Sid. She took in a deep, fortifying breath. Canada had one gold and Sidney had two goals. From the highlights, it seemed like Sidney was on a mission the whole game. Sighing, Nina pressed play on the first one. It was just a noisy celebration, nothing big until Sidney started talking. His talking was garbled at first and Nina laughed when she realized that he was drunk off his ass when he called her.

The second voicemail started just as garbled, then Nina heard Sidney clearly say, “I’m so happy we won, I still wish you were here, you’re my new lucky charm, pretty girl. Fuck, I love you so much, pretty girl, you make everything better now that you’re mine.”

The next one was just sappy as the second, but Sidney was definitely somewhere quieter with this one. But he was also just as drunk, as he ended by saying, “I wanna fuck you when I get back, with you wearing my gold, pretty girl. This gold is almost as pretty as you.”

Nina ruefully laughed, already expecting apologetic texts from Sidney when he was sober. But for the rest of the day, the thought lingered in her mind, the idea that Sidney loved her. However, her patients kept Nina busy and she didn’t get a moment to really ruminate on that. Then, Nina went over to Karesha’s house to babysit her play nephew, AJ, as Karesha went out with her boyfriend.

Within an hour of leaving, Karesha came back in, heated as she slammed the door. AJ commented, “He must have made Mom mad again.”

“AJ, please go upstairs and play with your Legos, Mommy needs to talk to Aunt Nina,” Karesha asked, trying hard to control her voice.

AJ quickly ran up the stairs, loudly closing the door to his room. Karesha flopped on the couch, kicking off her expensive heels. “Fuck men.”

Nina got up and grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses. Pour shots, she passed one to Karesha before sitting back down next to her friend. Karesha gratefully smiled before downing the shot.

“I’m tired of this shit. I told him it was over through text. How dare he say he’s coming up to Pittsburgh before spring training and then text me after I get to the restaurant to say he’s not coming after all. I’m done. I can’t.”

Nina murmured sympathetically, “Fuck him.”

“I’m so glad I never brought him around AJ though,” Karesha stated. “He had the nerve to say I spent too much time with my kid when I told him it was over.”

Nina’s eyes widened at that statement. “What are you supposed to do? Parent him less?”

Thoughts about Sidney were forgotten as Nina consoled her friend. Deciding to sleep over, Nina woke up early in the morning on the couch, several texts from Sidney waiting for her. Nina quickly scanned over them, starting with a text telling Nina his flight was about to come in to the last one asking if everything was okay. Nina sent him a message: friend had a crisis, be over around 10

It was early, around 7am so Nina didn’t expect to get a response. But Sidney replied: everything ok?

As ok as it’s gonna be, don’t worry, Nina sent back before straightening up Karesha’s living room. She then slipped out, locking the door from the inside.

“Gonna get you full with my cum, pretty girl. Fuck, look at you, your pussy already trying to milk my cum.”

Nina groaned as she watched Sid fuck her, claiming her. Her legs were over his shoulders, allowing Sidney to fuck her deep. “You missed me, pretty girl?”

“Uh huh,” Nina managed to say. He was fucking her so good, each stroke hitting her g-spot. It was like Sidney returned as a man on a mission.

“I missed you. Dreamed of you every night, Nina,” Sidney rasped.

“Mmmm.”

Nina no longer had words, she could feel her high coming. Then she felt Sidney’s fingers, just two fingers on her clit and it was enough to send her over the edge. Nina screamed, her nails digging into Sidney’s back. That was enough to get Sidney to reach his high as well, his grunts wordless as he came.

Nina sighed as Sidney withdrew, already sad at feeling empty. Sidney sat back on his haunches, watching as his cum started to leak out of Nina’s pussy. “I’ll never get enough of seeing that,” he remarked as he played with Nina’s clit. “Just for me, pretty girl.”

Moaning, Nina closed her eyes. She was sensitive but she felt herself respond to Sidney’s fingers. Then his fingers were replaced with his tongue, his fingers fucking his cum deeper inside of her pussy and the time for rational thought was gone.

Six weeks later

Nina sighed as she rifled through her bag for the keys to her apartment. Today was her thirty-first birthday and for some reason, she felt weird. ‘Maybe it’s because I’m now on the other side of thirty,’ Nina thought to herself.

The morning began with happy birthday texts from friends, birthday calls from Mom and Dad, and a facetime call with Jason. Sidney had sent her a funny meme birthday text but nothing else. Nina knew she shouldn’t feel too bad; the Pens were trying to solidify their playoff spot in the division and her birthday, April 5, fell right at the end of the season. As she opened the door, Nina hoped that Sid would at least do something once the playoffs were over. At the same time, it felt weird that she wasn’t going out with her parents either.

Just her luck that for the first time she was in a relationship around her birthday, her boyfriend had reasons not to take her out. Nina sniffled as she turned on the light.

“SURPRISE!!”

Nina gasped as Sidney, Kris, Geno, Anna, Catherine, Taylor, Alex, Victoria, Mario, Nathalie, Guentzy, Tristan, Hannah, Karesha, AJ, Lauren, her mom and dad, and Aryanna jumped out. Eyes wide, Nina burst into tears.

“Oh no, what’s wrong pretty girl,” Sidney replied, folding Nina into his arms.

Nina sniffled as she cried, “I thought everyone forgot my birthday!”

“I told you she wasn’t going to take it well,” Karesha muttered as Lauren kicked her. “Girl, be happy he did this all for you when he could be extra obsessive about the playoffs.”

Nina cut her eyes at Karesha before getting on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Sid’s cheek. “Thank you, Sid.”

The pictures of that night were put into a small scrapbook. Nina didn’t understand Sidney’s love for documenting memories in such a dramatic way but it was nice to look back at the memories in book form instead of having to scroll through her phone. Playoffs were now starting though so Nina was sure that would be the last carefree time until the playoffs were over, this time hopefully with another cup.

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kisekinodrabbles · 4 years ago

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Can we get detective Aomine, who gets assigned a female partner but from the start they're always at each other's throats. During an undercover case, reader has to be super flirty and Aomine gets all jealous and mutual confessions ensues. Maybe some sexy times at the end? :') Sorry if this is too specific, feel free to come up with your own interpretation! I'm such a huge fan of your work Sam and I'm so excited that you're opening your askbox even just for a little while!

ngl idk what im doing here but this is the last request in my inbox so i wanted to finish it haha pls enjoy (not proofread so excuse mistakes) - also my first time writing smut in like years so forgive me!!

Sometimes, Aomine thinks that if he isn’t a law and order professional, he thinks he might actually commit murder and hide your body away in some undisclosed, obscure location. Most of the time, you feel the same way about him.

The two work in different divisions—Aomine in homicide and you in robbery. The two divisions have always been highly competitive especially given how much overlap you both encounter. Things can get territorial, but their teams are used to your snide remarks and Aomine’s verbal assault. It’s just the way the world works.

After all, the two of you were in the same graduating class. You, a valedictorian by books. Aomine, top of the class by combat. It’s natural that the two of you are so competitive with your conflicting personalities.

The two of you may have also fucked at some point.

–

“I’m not fucking working with her, are you kidding me?” Aomine spits out at his boss. Any other person would’ve been kicked out of the room or probably fired, but Aomine is the best detective in his division so Akashi would never do such a thing. For now. Aomine’s been wearing his patience thin.

The red-haired man sighs, folding his hands together atop his desk. “Aomine, I understand you both have had your immaturity in the past. This, however, isn’t the time for such trivial matters. There’s a double homicide downtown during a robbery. She’s the lead for the case on the robbery end because they’ve been tracking a series of these.” Aomine opens his mouth to argue again. “No more buts. She’s already down there getting witness statements. Unless you want to be behind again, I suggest you get in your car and start driving.”

He grits his teeth. Breathe. Don’t strangle your boss, he’ll probably kill you first. “I’ll take Wakamatsu.”

By the time he arrives on the scene, a crowd has gathered behind the police line, snapping pictures in the hopes of getting something Twitter worthy. He growls past all of them and ducks underneath the tape. “Where’s the officer that called it in?”

“Inside talking to the detective.”

“I’m the detective,” he snaps right back, knowing full well you’re already three steps ahead of him. And you definitely won’t let him forget that.

He marches past the thick front doors, Wakamatsu in tow. From a distance, he spots you talking to another officer. When he finally approaches you, he realizes that you’re in a skin tight dress covered by an oversized police jacket.

Your name slips past his lips. “Did we interrupt a hot date?” He smirks.

You whirl around, knowing full well the irritating voice that grates on your nerves. Aomine Daiki. “Unlike you, I have actual friends and actual plans on a Friday night. Did you decide to give your wrist a break for the night?”

Aomine bites back, “Well, it’s not getting much rest either when I had my fingers knuckle deep in something tight and wet tonight.” Complete lie but he’s not about to lose this battle. “Not sure you know how that feels though.”

“If you’re talking about the pudding in your fridge, you might want to ease up on that. Doesn’t look like it’s doing you any favors,” you smile right back at him, knowing full well you’ve won this argument.

Aomine growls low under his breath, jabbing Wakamatsu hard with his elbow when he hears the snort escape him. “Brief me on the situation,” he tells the police officer.

“Well, uh, I already told this detective here—”

“I’m the other detective in charge for homicide. Now, you better fucking brief me before I tell your captain.”

The guy glances at you warily and you just laugh. “Told you he hasn’t gotten any in a long time. Come on, sugar, I’ll brief you on the way down to the vault.” You curl your finger in a gesture to get him to follow you and he sucks up his pride for the first time and do as he’s told. If he solves this case, he still gets the credit and you can go back to that sewer where you came from.

There are two bodies at the vault and forensics are already working to collect evidence when they arrive. “Your area of expertise, double homicide. Both are surprisingly the robbers. Four of them broke in, only two were seen exiting with money bags. No other casualties.”

“Fucking weird,” Aomine mutters. It’s not new for robberies to go wrong, but for two of them to die with no civilian casualty? That’s fucking weird.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” You grin, seeming way too pleased considering there are two dead people in front them. “The ammo is the same as the previous bank robberies in the area. We’re going to assume they’re linked to the Red Dragon clan.”

“Fuck,” he groans, “I fucking hate those guys. Bitches to deal with. Hard to infiltrate.”

You flick your hair over your shoulder, grinning at him. He can’t help but draw his gaze to your neck, a very attractive neck. Now that he notices how tight that dress is, he can’t help but admit that it has been a while since he’s gotten any action. The curves of your breast defined so clearly by the fabric that stretches across the mounds, the flow of your hips, every dip and rise. Your exposed legs further emphasized by your heels. God fucking damn. He feels his pants tighten as he licks his teeth. Get it together, Aomine.

Of course, the clothes do nothing to remove the memory of your nude body from his mind. He’s seen all parts of you some time ago. A drunken mistake that ended in a brief, but extremely satisfying night of passion. Your tight pussy wrapped around his cock, your nails digging into his biceps. He can still picture the sheen layer of sweat on your skin as he rams into you, your broken moans falling from your lips.

“Well, lucky for you,” you start again, pulling him out of the hazy cloud of lust. “I already have someone on the inside. They’ve set up a meeting for me tomorrow night meet with the head’s son. I’ll try to get some information done.”

“Lucky for you, I’m free tomorrow to be your backup. You’re welcome,” Aomine smiles, “Don’t fuck this up. I don’t feel like cleaning up after your ass.”

“I should say that about you, asshole.”

–

Aomine is sat in a dingy van just across the street from the bar you’re having your meeting. You’ve hidden your mic in the perfect spot, a location which you do not disclose to Aomine. However, he has a feeling it’s somewhere promiscuous that he wants to be aware of. They can see the restaurant clearly, their brat hacker Sakurai having plugged into the restaurant’s security cameras.

“Shut the fuck up, Aomine. I can hear you munching on your stupid sour cream and onion chips.” You mutter into your mic before the guy arrives. You sip your wine and take a deep breath. This isn’t the first time you’ve gone undercover but it is the first time to have Aomine behind you while you do so.

The detective looks down at the can in his hands. Sour cream and onion. How did you know? He sets it aside, bringing the mic up to his lips. “Maybe you should do your job better and focus on your meeting instead of listening to me. Why are you so obsessed with me, hm?”

However, a man’s voice on the other side of the headphones has him straightening. “Good evening, I didn’t expect to be meeting a lovely lady like you tonight,” the sleaze says and Aomine can just imagine him kissing your hand. “When Tanaka said I’d be meeting with the right hand of White Claw, I didn’t expect it to be a woman.”

“Well, we are moving up in life, Mr. Ito.”

“Your good looks are certainly quite persuasive. I’m sure there are ways you can convince me to strike a deal.”

Fucking. Sleaze.

“Oh,” you laugh lightly, “what a flatterer. You’re not so bad yourself. I can imagine people fall at their feet for you.”

“Well, I am quite knowledgeable in more ways than one. Perhaps I can show you tonight after dinner.”

The two banter back and forth, trading flirty comments that puts Aomine on edge. You’re supposed to be doing your job and he knows that. He knows this is all an act but you’re a damn good actress.

“Aomine, where are you going?” Wakamatsu’s concerned voice carries through the speaker.

You freeze. This fucker better not screw this whole operation up. “Well,” you say, “this has been a lovely dinner. I’m sure we both can come to an agreement without doing anything reckless.”

The double meaning, a sentence meant for the man across from you and the man listening to you rings clear. Aomine growls, sitting back down petulantly in his seat. He was about to rage in there and start a war, but holds himself back. Be professional, Aomine. Job first, dick needs later.

“The same to you. It’s been a pleasure meeting you,” the man smiles. “Are you sure you won’t join me for the night?”

Aomine snarls low into his mic. Wakamatsu shoots him a weird look. You let out a little giggle and he knows it’s meant for him. “No, thank you, Mr. Ito. I’m afraid I have other commitments to tend to.”

When he knows it’s safe, he storms into the restaurant where you still sit, sipping your drink. Sliding into the seat across from you, he rolls his eyes. “Enjoy yourself?”

He didn’t see when you were set up with the mic earlier so he also hadn’t seen what you were wearing. He’s almost grateful because he knows he might’ve lost it if he did. Tight ass dress, deep neckline that shows ample cleavage (he’s always a sucker for this), sultry eyes, red lips. God, all his favorite things packaged into one.

Your lips quirk up. “The breadsticks here are quite nice.”

“Fucking hilarious. Let’s go.”

“Why the hurry?”

“Unless you want Wakamatsu to hear me fuck you, you better dump that mic and get your ass up.”

You lean back, narrowing your eyes at him. “I’m not sure I like your tone.”

“Trust me, you don’t have to like my tone to enjoy what I’m going to do to you.”

Licking your lips, you consider your options as you bring the wine back to your lips. “Fine,” you mutter, unclipping the mic from the strap of your dress. Aomine moves faster though, snatching it from your hands and dumping it into the wine. Before you can protest, he already has a hand wrapped around yours, tugging you up from your seat and into the back room.

You’re stumbling in his manic rush, heels barely keeping up with your movements. “Aomine!” You chide as he pushes all the way to the employee break room. The space is fortunately empty and Aomine locks it to make sure it stays that way. “Can you please stop?! You’re such a caveman, I—”

He’s quick to shut you up, swallowing your words with his lips as they slot over yours. He doesn’t waste time, shrugging off his leather jacket as he licks your bottom lip for permission. You gasp a complaint, but he takes advantage of the situation to stick his tongue in, pressing it up against yours.

All your worries fall away into a moan as he separates from you only to gasp for breath and pull his t-shirt over his head. With nimble fingers, he’s unzipping the back of your dress and yanking it down, leaving your top half exposed. Shivering, you’re about to voice your disapproval but your brain seems to stop functioning the second your gaze lands on his tanned body.

Aomine’s always been attractive. No one can deny. There’s a reason why he’s simultaneously the precinct’s most eligible bachelorette and most insufferable jackass. His confidence matches his skills. His looks live up to his brags. Hard lines and shadows are painted on him like a masterpiece in a museum. His broad shoulders make him look even bigger with his height. His jeans that hang just low enough to be tantalizing with the hint of a v that leads to the space between his legs.

Your mouth dries up at the sight and Aomine smirks knowingly. You’ve fallen into his bed before, he can make it happen again. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Fifth grade humor doesn’t become you, Aomine.” You scowl as he backs you up against the table in the middle of the room. He effortlessly grabs you by the ass to lift you up and onto the surface, the metal cool against your exposed thighs.

“Did you dress up for me, doll? Knowing full well that this was going to happen,” he grins devilishly, bringing his hands up to shamelessly cup your breasts.

It’s not as if you’re embarrassed for being so bare before him. You’re proud of your body and he damn well knows that. You let him fondle you through your bra for a little bit. “No, you animal. I dress for the job.”

“You tell me you wear this flimsy thing—” he teases the light coverage of your lingerie. The lace is sheer and barely covers your nipples, the material holding onto your breasts for dear life. “—for the job?”

“I do my job right, asshole,” you spat right back. “So are you just going to stand there or are you going to fuck me?”

A wide grin stretches across his face. The heat in his eyes carry to his hands as he works to unclasp your bra and let it fall to the ground. Aomine doesn’t waste time as you lean back on your palms, granting him full access to fondle and suckle on your tits. His tongue swirls around the sensitive nubs that have grown stiff in the contrast between the cold air and his warm breath. His teeth graze the sensitive skin hard enough to have you groaning in pleasure. His lips close in around them and suck. He uses his hand to tease and tug your other breast, pinching it to elicit that delicious whimper out of you. Aomine alternates between the two, making sure you stay warm.

Meanwhile, you let your hand fall to the bulge between his legs. He lets out a small grunt at the initial touch but seems to respond favorably to the way you stroke the tent, nudging his hips forward for more friction. “Is that a gun in your pants or are you just excited to see me?”

“You’re so fucking ridiculous,” Aomine mutters, both humored and unamused by your comment.

“Fuck,” you let slip as your fingers struggle to unbutton his jeans. “Your fucking pants. Don’t you live in sweats? You choose today of all days to wear your stupid tight jeans?”

Aomine chuckles, “Patience, baby. You know you like my ass in these.”

You do, but you’re not about to admit that. He quickly works off his pants, letting them drop to his ankles as he moves towards you again. While he continues to stimulate your tits, your hand begins groping his cock which is rock hard and peeking from the top of his boxers.

“God, I miss having this inside me,” you whine, pulling the flimsy fabric off and letting it pool on top of his jeans. “Condom?”

“You don’t want me raw? You know you want to feel all of my cock,” he grins. You throw him a glare and he just chuckles as he reaches for his wallet on the floor, pulling out a packet and tossing it onto the table. “But first,” he pauses, letting his hands slide down to cup your pussy, which is admittedly already drenched at that point.

He hisses when he feels your juices drip and coat his fingers. “You’re so fucking wet, goddamn. How long have you been waiting for this?”

“When that robbery happened, I was about to get laid for the first time in months. So fucking sue me,” you snarl at him.

“Well, I am here to please,” he wets his lips. He slips one finger in, sliding in all too easily. So he adds another finger and feels your walls pulse around him. He begins pulling it out before shoving it back in, repeating the measure to stroke your walls. He curls his fingers inside as he watches your face closely.

Your expression morphs from irritation to blinding pleasure in an instant. Your eyes slide shut, your lips part to exhale shaky breaths. Aomine seems to know exactly how to angle and twist his fingers to induce a heart attack. The sounds falling from your mouth are ephemeral, Aomine wishes he can film this moment so he can replay it over and over again.

He pumps his fingers into you and ducks his head to take your nipple into his mouth again, tongue circling the tip. “God, you taste so fucking good. I forgot how wet you can get. Don’t even need lube to slide into you, huh? You’re already dripping for me.”

“Asshole,” you murmur weakly, clearly in no place to retort.

“Remember the first time I fucked you? God, you were so easy,” he grins, “you were so wet, so turned on already. Remember when I stuck my tongue in your pussy? Licking up your juices. You tasted so sweet.”

Your breath stutters in your chest, hitching in your throat. “Fuck you, let’s not forget how quickly you came when I sucked you off.”

“I mean, the sight of you on your knees is enough to get anyone off, sweetheart.”

“Fuck me,” you groan. Any rational thought has fizzled from your brain. The feeling of his fingers inside you is enough to consume you whole, overwhelming you in waves of rapture.

“What was that?”

“Dickwad.”

He chuckles darkly, licking his lips again. “Beg me.”

“I’m not going to—”

Aomine yanks his fingers out, looking down at you, taunting you. He waits as you internally struggle with your moral convictions. Are you willing to give up your pride for one night just to get fucked out of your mind?

Easy.

Yes.

“Please,” you huff, “please fuck me.”

“Please fuck me who?”

Your eyes find the ceiling, wondering what in the hell you did in your lifetime to have met the devil that is Aomine. Biting your lip, you lean closer to whisper, “Please fuck me, Da-i-ki.”

The man is a sucker for you calling him by his first name. And to get what you want, you’re willing to play into his hands. Aomine lets out a low growl before ripping open the condom packet and rolling the thin rubber along his length. Your pussy squeezes at the sight. Just imagining what it’s like to have that thickness inside of you, fucking you full, has you on edge.

He doesn’t waste a single second, pulling you forward and slowly positioning himself in front of you. He holds onto his cock, letting the tip trace your pussy lips, circling it and letting your juices drip onto his cock. Stroking the wetness along his dick, he uses it as a lubricant before he slides himself inside you.

When he’s buried to the hilt, Aomine leans forward and lets his forehead rest on your shoulder. Your pussy is so fucking tight. It’s squeezing and throbbing around him with the engulfing heat. He feels as if he’s going to explode right then.

“Fuck, you really haven’t been screwed in a while,” Aomine rasps.

“Told you.”

Aomine starts off slow, pulling out and pushing back in. With how thin the condom is, he can feel every ridge, every bump in your heat rub up against his cock. The sensations is enough to have his thighs quivering, but he’s not one to back down. He begins to pick up the pace, thrusting deep inside of you repeatedly. HIs mouth latches onto your neck, tongue lapping and teeth nipping to paint purple blooms upon your skin.

His movements are building a bubbling pressure in the pit of your stomach. You feel your heart tightening with every move, your insides squeezing. The absolute pleasure that crashes over you has you breathless, your hands finding purchase on his arms.

He mutters filthy words in your ear, one of his hands reaching up to tangle in your hair. He yanks back lightly, just enough to have you moaning. You like it rough, he’s well aware of that. He pounds into you relentlessly, hands keeping you in place as whimpers tumble from your mouth.

“Fuck, right there, oh god,” you gasp, “fuck me harder. God, your dick feels so good. Filling me up so full with your thick cock.”

“Keep talking like that and I’ll be tempted to come in you, baby,” Aomine grazes his teeth along your ear, hot breath kissing your skin. “God, I want to just fucking cream inside you.”

“Better watch yourself, Daiki.”

Aomine grins lasciviously, sweat beginning to bead his forehead as he attempts to keep himself in check. He feels you tighten your pussy, walls closing in around him. “Bitch,” he growls. You know what you’re doing but he’s not about to let you gain dominance of the situation.

So his hands dig deeper into your hips as he fucks you harder and deeper, his cock pulsating inside of you on the brink of his self-control. “I’m about to come,” he says with eyes squeezed shut. If he sees your tits bouncing as he fucks you again, he might actually combust in that second.

“Me too,” you panted, fingers scraping down his arms.

With a few more pumps, Aomine spills into the rubber with a grunt. He feels you convulse around him, your entire body trembling in the aftermath of your orgasm. He can feel his come continue to leak from his cock. God, he hasn’t come this hard in a fucking long time.

His heart is thundering in his chest from the impact of his climax. He slumped forward, leaning against you for support—also partially to feel your tits press up against his chest. “Fuck,” he huffs.

“That was good,” you admit to yourself, still breathing heavily as you begin fixing your hair. “We should do that again sometime.”

Aomine just laughs, huffing against your skin. “You’re the fucking she-devil.”

“Says the guy who’s fucking me in the back room in the middle of an undercover operation.”

“Dick first, job second.”

–

Wakamatsu looks at him when he walks into the precinct that morning. “You do realize the captain is going to kill you for fucking up that expensive mic, right?”

Fuck.

#kuroko no basket #knb #kuroko no basuke #aomine daiki #aomine smut #knb smut #knb drabbles #knb scenarios #anonymous #popz

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queenofimagines · 5 years ago

Text

Stranger from Out of Town

Summary: Arvin had no reason to be here. After the things he’d done, he had no reason to be blessed with an angel like you. But after spending so long on the run, after spending so long looking over his shoulder, he couldn’t help but fall in love with the one person who made him feel safe. All is well and good in Arvin’s life until one determined and obsessed sheriff decides it’s time to pay Arvin a visit.

Notes: Ya’ll, this one’s a doosey but I hope you enjoy it anyways. For the purposes of this pic, Bodecker is still alive.

When Arvin woke up that morning he could feel that something was different. Arvin’s life had been flipped upside down by his own actions that had ultimately been what forced him to live his life on the run. He had spent the better part of a year running, zigzagging across the country in the hopes of shaking the authorities off; first traveling down to Georgia, then up to Iowa, then back down towards Texas and so on before finally finding permanent resident. Arvin knew what the rest of his life would look like from here on out. He understood that he would spend the rest of his time on God’s green Earth looking over his shoulder and never finding the quiet life he longed for. Arvin knew that he was cursed, from the moment his mother had died he had been plagued with loss and he was sure he was one of the unlucky souls who had come to be the Devil’s plaything. Arvin had expected that his life would forever be riddled with rot and chaos, damned to suffer through conflict after conflict after conflict. But when Arvin opened his eyes today to the sun streaming in through window and the sound of bacon sizzling coming from the kitchen, he finally understood what it felt like to be at peace.

Arvin swung his legs over the side of the bed, hauling himself up and making his way down the hall. His steps were heavy with sleep, shuffling against the floor loud enough to alert the person in the kitchen to his presence. As Arvin drew closer, he began to hear the hum of a song that was unfamiliar to him, just barely covered by the sound of someone flipping an egg, prompting him to hurry his steps to arrive at the delicious smell and the lovely voice that had almost lulled him back to sleep where he stood. Rounding the corner, Arvin couldn’t help but grin at the sight before him. There you stood in front of the stove, still dressed in your nightgown, cooking a breakfast big enough for two.

Two. Such a simple word with such little meaning. An insignificant word that made Arvin’s heart swell with delight. It wasn’t just him anymore, alone and scared, no, now it was him and you. To Arvin, it was hope. Arvin watched as you plated the food you had prepared before turning around and flashing him an earth shattering smile. You would never know how much it meant to him, your smile, and that you were here, right now. You would never know the kind of stability you brought to him. And he planned to keep it that way, to keep you in the dark about all the things he’d done. To keep letting you believe he was just the stranger from out of town who stole your heart.

When you met Arvin, he was just a newcomer, a lost soul who had found your quaint little town practically in the middle of nowhere. He had stirred up quit a buzz when he walked into your parents’ little diner, asking if there was any place he could stay the night, but seeing as your town was so small, small enough that it could safely be left off of most maps and small enough that tourism wasn’t a main source of income, the answer was unequivocally no. Your father, who had been Arvin had the luck of plopping himself next to, informed him that the closest motel was almost a three hours drive away. Arvin remembered staring out the window, watching the last rays of light vanish, his hope along with it. It would be impossible for him to get someone to see him this late at night, let alone actually stop for him. Arvin felt like he could cry in that moment, but your mother, ever the good Christian woman, had offered to let him stay at your house until tomorrow morning. Arvin was grateful that your mother had been so kind, and in retrospect you were too, but you remembered how much you resented Arvin when your mother told you he would be staying with you. At first, you were all for it, one night with an attractive stranger from out of town in your house wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, but the next day both Arvin and your father came home in the afternoon after they had supposedly left to take Arvin to the next town over earlier that morning.

“Turns out this boy knows his way around a car,” your father had said, beaming. He had later told your mother privately that he had offered Arvin a place to stay with your family and a smaller than average wage in exchange for his help around the shop. Your father owned the only car shop in town and was in desperate need of a new assistant, and seeing as you didn’t want anything to do with being a mechanic, your father saw Arvin as a golden opportunity, someone to possibly pass the torch to. Your mother was more than happy to let him stay, finding his handiness around the house useful, but you were less ready to welcome him into your life. Arvin had garnered a lot of attention, especially from the female population, and most of the girls at your school would pretend to be your friend in the hopes that you would invite them over, just so they could get a glimpse at him. It only got worse when your parents had commissioned Arvin to pick you up and drop you off to school. The girls would stare, trying to get a closer look at Arvin, a few of them even having the courage to go up and talk to him. It made you sick, that attention he got and how much he seemed to enjoy it. You had convinced yourself that it was skepticism about his character, but now that you look back on it, it was nothing more than petty jealousy that bubbled in your stomach. It was stupid, really, to be jealous that a boy was giving other girl’s his attention, especially since you hadn’t seemed very keen on the idea of him even being in your town, but what you didn’t know was that it wasn’t the attention that Arvin enjoyed, it was the fact that in the people around him, in the kindness that people showed him, Arvin could see a future here; a future with you.

From the moment Arvin laid his eyes on you, he was smitten, he would even go as far as to say it was love at first sight. Arvin wouldn’t confess this to you until almost a year after you’d met when he tried to ask you to prom (with your parents’ permission, of course). It was honestly a train wreck and did not go at all how he had planned. Arvin had invited you out to the town’s gazebo, he had strung up lights as best he could and set up a nice little dinner for the two of you. He saw a figure slowly approach, thinking it was you, only to be disappointed when Susan Hall, who Arvin remembered you hated with a passion, stepped into the light and flung herself at him, telling him how sweet it was of him to do this and attempting to kiss him. You had seen the whole thing and, devastated, you ran away, Arvin chasing after you. He had caught up to you in the woods behind your parents’ property and explained what had happened, confessing that he loved you and only you. You believed him, and rightfully so, as you later found out that Susan had crashed your plans on purpose to try and steal Arvin from you.

Looking back on it now, with you leaning against his in the small house that you had bought the second you graduated high school with the little money both of you had saved up and some help from your parents, Arvin was glad he had ended up in your dreary town, no matter how complicated your relationship had been when it first started. He watched as you admired the ring on your finger, smiling at it as if you had been missing it all your life, the now empty dishes sitting in your sink waiting to be washed. It was times like this Arvin remembered why he had to keep his past life from you a secret. He loved you and often found himself wanting to tell you all about his past life. Every time you asked why he looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders Arvin wanted nothing more than to tell you everything, but Arvin loved you too much to let you go and he couldn’t bare to think of what would happen if you knew what he did.

“Darlin’, I gotta get ready for work.” He said, lips pressed against the crown of your head.

“Why don’t you call in sick today,” you suggested.

“I would but your dad would kill me.”

“You know he loves you Arvin.”

“Yeah, that’s why I don’t wanna disappoint ‘im.” With one final kiss to your head, Arvin stood up and made his way to your shared bedroom. You began to clean the dishes, not having to go into the diner until later that day. As you began cleaning the last pan in the sink, a sturdy knock came from your door.

“I’ll get it!” You yelled, hearing Arvin begin to hurry to the front door. You had opened the door just as Arvin arrived at the end of the hallway. In front of you stood a tall man with a sheriff’s badge pinned to his shirt.

“Mornin’ ma’am, my name’s Lee Bodecker,” The man said. “I’m looking for a man named Arvin Russell and I heard I might find him here.”

“Arvin?” You repeated, confusion written all over your face. You turned to look at your husband, eyebrows furrowed in a silent question. From where the sheriff stood, he couldn’t see Arvin, his figure being blocked by the door, but if he leaned ever so slightly to the left he might be able to peer into the house and see there was someone else there. You knew something was wrong, you had never seen Arvin look as scared as he did now, so without a second thought, you had gently closed the door so that your body filled the gap it created, leaning against the door frame in an attempt to feign nonchalance.

“I’m sorry, Mister, but there ain’t no Arvin Russell here. Whoever told you there was must have been misinformed.”

“You sure about that?”

“Sure as the hair on my head.”

“Oh, alright. Then may I ask who it was you called to just before you opened the door?”

“My husband.” You said after a long pause, caught off guard by the man’s question.

“Mind if I speak with him?”

“Well I don’t but I’m not sure how you’d feel about seein’ him naked. He’s takin’ a shower right now.” You began gently tapping your foot, your nerves beginning to get the better of you. You had never been all that good at lying, something about it made you feel wrong, dirty. But you needed to protect your husband, after all, it’s what he would do for you.

“Then would you mind if I waited.”

“Actually I would. I have to leave for work soon and, with all do respect, I don’t much like leaving a stranger unattended in my house.”

With a small nod and a tip of the hat, the man bid you goodbye, getting into his car and driving off. You closed the door and turned to Arvin. It was silent for a long time, you waited for Arvin to explain himself but Arvin didn’t know what to say. His worst nightmare was coming true and he was terrified that your love for him wouldn’t be strong enough to survive this.

“Arvin,” You said, as calmly as you could, not wanting to spook him or yourself anymore, though it proved a lot harder that you thought. “Why was that man at our door?”

Arvin opened his mouth as if to say something but for the life of him he couldn’t find the words. He was frustrated with himself, and from the looks of it you were getting pretty frustrated at him to.

“Arvin,” you said more firmly. “I just lied to a goddamn sheriff for you. Please, tell me what’s going on.”

Arvin took a deep breathe before explaining everything to you. He told you about Lenora, and how hung herself. About the preacher and Bodecker and about Bodecker’s sister and her crazy husband. He explained everything he had done with complete and utter honesty. And he cried, longing to reach out for you but knowing his hands were too tainted to be worthy of ever holding something as beautifully pure as you. You didn’t know what to say. On the one hand, you understood his reasoning. To you, it seemed like the people Arvin had killed had it coming. But on the other hand, your husband had killed people. It didn’t matter what the reason was, taking a person’s life was a sin, something unforgivable in the holy book. Despite your better judgement, your decision ultimately came down to this: Arvin was your husband, and you loved him.

You slowly approached Arvin’s shaking figure, gently wrapping your arms around his shoulders and threading your hands through his hair. Arvin broke down into sobs, holding you impossibly close to him as if he needed you more than the air he breathed.

“Arvin,” You said once he had stopped crying, your own tears beginning to fall as you realized that there was only one option left for you both. “Arvin, we need to go.”

“What?”

“We need to go.” He gently pulled away from you, looking into your eyes, checking to make sure he heard you correctly.

“B-but this is our home.”

“I know Arvin, but that sheriff didn’t believe a word I said and he’s gonna be asking around town for you. It won’t be long until word of what you’ve done begins to spread. We need to leave before it’s too late.”

You gently ushered Arvin towards the bedroom and told him to begin packing a bag, unaware of the figure lurking at your backdoor. Bodecker had listened in on your conversation, hearing every word you and Arvin had spoken to each other, preparing for the right moment to make himself known. It was now or never, he thought, hearing you tell Arvin to pack a bag. As quietly as possible, Bodecker broke the lock on your back door, slowly making his way towards your bedroom. The door was wide open, he could see you and Arvin darting around the room trying to find your essentials. It was almost perfect, how unaware you both were. How wrapped up you were in yourselves that you didn’t even notice a 6 foot tall man practically right in front of you. With a sadistic smile, Bodecker raised his shotgun.

You froze when you heard someone pump a shotgun behind you, whipping around to find Bodecker standing just a few feet from you, gun aimed at Arvin. Your heart was beating so hard you thought it might burst, the thought of losing Arvin only increasing the adrenaline that was currently coursing through you.

“You thought you could get away, didn’t you?” Bodecker asked.

“Please, your sister and her husband, t-they were gonna kill me I didn’t hav-”

“I don’t care! You killed my sister. My sister! You killed the only person I loved Arvin. And now, I’m gonna return the favor.” In one swift motion, Bodecker turned to point the gun at you, raising his gun higher to aim at you properly. You closed your eyes before hearing the bang of a gun. You waited, standing stock still as the terror of the situation slowly got to you, but you didn’t feel pain, instead you felt a set of hands holding your face, a voice softly telling you to open your eyes. You did as you were told, seeing Arvin in front of you, eyes frantic. You looked at the ground next to him, an unfamiliar gun next to Arvin’s foot. You came to the realization that Arvin must have used it to shoot Bodecker, your suspicion being proven correct when your eyes landed on Bodecker’s now lifeless body laying in a pool of his own blood.

“A-Arvin-” Arvin softly hushed you.

“It’s okay, you’re okay now.” Arvin pulled you closer to him, cradling your head and shielding you from the body. Soon you could hear sirens in the distance, the panic slowly rising inside of you again. You could feel Arvin begin to panic too, his breathing starting to pick up.

“H-his badge.” You said, pulling away from Arvin, scared that he would be taken away from you. “We-we need to get rid of h-his badge. A-and any identification he has. It has to look like an- like an accident”

“R-right. Right, okay, uh...” Arvin began searching Bodecker’s body, quickly finding both his badge and ID and hiding them in a small hollow under one of the floor boards where you kept your savings. You and Arvin quickly came up with a cover, agreeing to keep it simple. The police arrived not long after, conducting an interview and putting you both through due process. You told them what you and Arvin had agreed to say, that the man broke into your house and tried to rob you, but thanks to Arvin’s quick thinking, Arvin was able to get to his gun and shoot the intruder. The policemen interviewing you were skeptical, wondering why neither of you called the police after killing the man. You blamed it on shock, saying that Arvin’s first instinct was to comfort you, the intruder did have a gun pointed at you, after all. The policemen eventually dropped the subject, seeing you begin to tear up as the adrenaline and shock of the day began to ware off. Your parents came to get you and Arvin, offering you both your old room at their house until they were able to get someone to fix your back door, an offer that the both of you readily accepted. That night you and Arvin held each other just a little bit tighter, neither one of you finding sleep to come easy.

“We can’t tell anyone what happened today.” Arvin said, rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you.

“I know.” You replied, tightly clutching onto his shirt. “I love you, Arvin.”

“I love you, too, Darlin’”

You didn’t know what would come out of tonight. You didn't know if you were making a mistake by trusting Arvin after everything he had done. You weren’t sure if you were messed up for loving a murderer or if you were right in believing that Arvin was doing good, even if it meant doing some more than questionable things. But you knew one thing, you knew you loved Arvin and that he loved you, and that you both would always protect each other, no matter the cost.

#arvin russell #arvin russel #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel imagine #arvin russell imagine #the devil all the time #the devil all the time imagine #tdatt #tdatt imagine #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #tom holland x reader

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kadssp · 3 years ago

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GN Y/N & PEEPAW ASSTON

Hello! I've been dying to write about a workaholic y/n that is roped into the fnaf lore because a 6-foot British rabbit is obsessed with them. Thank you for the many ideas of Springtrap and Y/N scenarios you've provided, I'll credit you for actually inspiring me to go through with my idea and post it! This is a SFW prompt because I don't think I want to have sex with a rotting corpse in a fursuit, although I'm sure Willy would be open to that.

When you brought Springtrap into your house after he escaped the fire at Fazbear’s Fright it took forever for you to trust him with staying in your house. You had caught a man leaving the building, and watched a god damn animatronic exit it for Pete's sake!

In only a week he had already trashed your house and you forcibly moved him into your basement to contain the giant rabbit, which took a lot of power, good on you, very strong! In a couple of days Springtrap told you what he wanted to be called, and you found it hilarious because the first thing you thought of was the Easter Bunny falling into a pit made by some kid who wanted to capture a national holiday icon. Fortunately he didn't find it very funny, and tried to pounce on you right after.

In an amazing turn of events, the two of you got along. Turns out you both liked listening to the radio, so while you tried to figure out what the hell was going on with this oversized fursuit you made it a part of your schedule to listen to classical music with him while at a distance. Sometimes he'd scoot closer, including one night when you fell asleep on his shoulder. When you looked up at him, all you could see was the rabbit pursuit thing staring at you with somewhat human emotion that you can only explain as pure adoration. Right after you had seen such a thing the first thing you did was apologize and get up in a flustered panic.

The day after that occurred, you allowed Springtrap to come upstairs on one condition. He was not to trash the house, and he was supposed to clean up after himself. It was easy enough, seeing as all he had to do was not move anywhere with delicate objects or low shelves.

What followed was more time alone with the bunny, and you slowly learned about things he liked. For example, when surfing the t.v Springtrap forced you to stop at a channel about model trains. With more time together meant more conversation, and shockingly he was quite good at it. Sometimes he would call you “Luv” or “Darling”, maybe even “Bunny” if he was feeling adventurous at the moment. It always leads to you getting red in the face or something even more embarrassing.

Once while sitting on the couch together, you both exchanged glances and stayed slack jaw. For what you both saw was honestly incredible. You couldn't imagine your life going here. As a kid, your dream wasn't to live with a stinky animatronic that made you feel something horrible, maybe even disgusting. Because at that moment you wanted to kiss Springtrap on the cheek. Or whatever that thing was. After you both looked at each other no one said a word the rest of the night.

This is quite a small prompt, and I hope it isn't too simple. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this! Your writing always amazes me and I am finding new ways to make friends with the strangest of websites in the oddest situations! I bid thee adieu!

-🫁

SIGHH I LOVE HIM </3 I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM I LOV[booing]

the urge to write about a slowburn between springtrap and reader is strong but this made it stronger omfg.

my thoughts? fuckin amazing if you asked me i reread this three times just to giggle over it again before answering,,, i rlly love this omfg goodbye im walking away to find myself a stinky springtrap out in the wild.

READER WANTING TO KISS HIM BUT FEELING DISGUSTED BY HIM AND TOTALLY NOT GROWING FEELINGS LMAOO I LOVE THAT??? reader putting off growing feelings as just disgust for the smelly animatronic being around themself and that it’s not what they think it really is,,, even when they inch closer to him while watching tv it’s just because the room was cold! not because they wanted to sit next to him, have his arm wrapped around thei- no no no! reader dislikes the rabbit for constantly teasing them and picking on them in their own home! there is no feelings at all except for despising the walking fursuit that definitely needs a new wash,,, and they’ll keep convincing themselves of that until one evening when they lean in and bump their nose against his rabbit one as something akin to a kiss before hiding their face in their hands- i’ll stop, i’ll stop >_>

#🌻 . kadi answers #🌻 . kady answers #🌻 . kandi answers #🍰 . general #🍬 . anons #🍬 . 🫁 anon #i love you nonnie /p #i just realized you called him asston…#im crying

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stanknotstark · 4 years ago

Text

Astral Pt. 8 (Loki x Reader)

Ok guys they’re REUNITED! God i hope you all know that I wrote all 7 parts in one day because i was so obsessed with getting chapters out so i wouldn’t have to write them daily or lose my thoughts!! Ok well now i have some time to figure out where the story will go from here or if i end it here....

IM JUST JOKING it’s not over yet XDD it’s barely begun :p Feel free to send messages about what you think is gonna happen or who might make minor appearances, villain or hero, cuz i have some planned out! I’ve been doing research guys, i bought a marvel encyclopedia for the first time in years cuz i visited the store the other day and loaded up on comic books again it’s been awhile but my collection is growing again ^^

You’re standing next to Natasha when the brothers drop down from the sky in their rainbow elevator thing. Thor called it the bifrost? It wasn’t something Loki had talked about when you had been on speaking terms, he must have not found it important enough.

The brothers landed outside on Stark’s glorified patio, 91 floors up. You almost forget to breathe as you look at Loki. His hair is a little longer now, he’s definitely lost some weight, and the bags under his eyes tell you enough. His face is cold as he looks around and, angrily, lets Thor lead him inside where you all stand in various places waiting on them. You note that both the brothers are dressed casually but it’s still a bit much, Earth wise.

You swallow as Loki first sees Tony and smirks at him, “Seems I won’t be missing that drink you promised?”

Tony gave him a once over then shrugged. “I guess you deserve a small break. Thor filled me in on what’s been going on.” Tony said, you thought you could hear a hint of a threat lacing his words though. Loki huffed and rolled his eyes looking at the rest of the team before his eyes landed on you.

You looked into his eyes for what felt like hours but must have only been seconds. The angry look he had been parading in dropped and you saw a flurry of reactions so quick everyone else would miss it but you knew Loki. You try your best to keep your face disinterested, not quite sure if you succeed. Still a bit hurt he told you to never come back coming to the front of your mind you look away and whisper to Nat, “I gotta go, fill me in on what happens.” Then you rush out.

You hear Tony saying, “You already scared off y/n..” as you left the room.

You basically run to your room and slam the door shut. Your breathing had started becoming haggard on your way up and only intensified as you closed yourself in your room. Both your hands gripped at your hair and pull, your eyes squeezed shut, tight. You shouldn’t be reacting like this it was Loki, it was just Loki. He wouldn’t hurt you, physically. You had thought that you were over whatever heartbreak you had all those years before. How the fuck were you to function normally around him if just one look at him made you this panicky? Made your heart beat so hard you thought it might break out of your ribs. Made you want to cry deliriously happy and sad at the same time.

You let go of your hair, let your tears fall, and punched the wall a few times, hoping the pain in your hands would ground you. Luckily, it did, but you’d probably have to come up with an excuse because your knuckles were blooming dark purple. You took in deep breaths, copying what Loki had taught you to do when you got to worked up, subconsciously, the thought of him causing you to freak a bit more but then you just focused on breathing.

It’s a few hours later when Natasha comes to your room and tells you dinner is ready. You had settled and had a book open in your lap as you sat on your bed. You consider skipping dinner and you’re about to say it when you see the look Natasha is giving you. She had been the one to teach you to over come your fears, to face them head on. She probably thought you were scared of Loki because he had tried to take over the world. Oh, how wrong she was. You nodded and told her you were gonna wear something else. She left you in peace and you sighed, rubbing a hand over your face then putting on your brave face and getting dressed in something casual. A simple t-shirt and jeans would suffice.

When you entered the dinning room, a floor below yours, everyone was seated. Natasha had left you a seat. Right next to Loki. You swallowed and studiously kept your eyes anywhere but on Loki when you sat down. You realized Loki was very tense when you sat next to him but said nothing on the matter.

“Brother! This is dear Y/n I mentioned, she’s got a quick wit just like you, I’m sure you both will be the best of friends!”

You smiled at Thor but it probably came off as more of a grimace because Thor gave you a frown. Loki said nothing and focused on eating his food. The whole table got silent realizing something was up between you and Loki. You cleared your throat and tried to sooth things over by looking at Loki. His eyes caught yours and for a second you got lost in them, again. God, get ahold of yourself!

Mentally shaking your head you plastered a smile on and said, “Nice to meet you, Loki, I can’t wait to get to know you.” You finish lamely then quickly look at your food and begin stuffing your face so you wouldn’t have to speak anymore.

“Riiiiiight.” Tony said eyeing you and Loki suspiciously. Steve sat next to him frowning at your attitude. You missed the silent conversation Natasha and Clint had.

“You’re going to choke if you continue to eat like a bilge snipe that hasn’t seen food in weeks.” Loki said in a casual voice.

You choke. You swallow what is in your mouth, Natasha hitting your back a few times, and then you laugh.

God you missed Loki.

“Remember when you swallowed that moon berr-” Stopping yourself short you swallowed and closed your eyes, last seeing Loki’s happy look turn into a neutral face as he glances around at the team. Damn.

“Remember? You two know each other?” Natasha asked, nudging you with her elbow. Thankfully you see she reserves her judgement on the situation.

Sighing you look at the team and set your utensils down.

“Loki is...” You shot Loki a confused look as if to ask if you still were but shook your head and continued on looking at Nat primarily, “We’re soulmates. I first met Loki when I was 13 years old.”

“In person?” Steve asked.

“No, I can astral project my spirit but because I’m his soulmate it wasn’t hard it just kind of happened when I needed him most.”

You picked up your glass of water, noticing you are shaking a bit. You especially tried not to jump when you felt Loki set a comforting hand on your thigh under the table. Taking a drink you looked at the table, took a deep breath, then let your eyes come back up to the confused team.

“When you needed him most?” Tony asked after a few minutes of silence.

Looking at Tony you bit your lip. Should you....

“My grandfather killed my grandmother in front of me when I was 13, I hid in my closet and closed my eyes, when I opened them I was in a room in Asgard.”

“She was in one of my mental rooms that I use to astral project. A fabricated room I made when I was younger.” Loki said, his eyes only on you.

“He was always there when something bad happened and we became best friends. I was 17 when I realized I had magic, his magic.” You said looking at Nat who looked confused. “Because we’re connected through our mind and soul, I draw my power from him. The powers I have are Loki’s in a sense but at the same time my own, I can do some things he can’t and vice versa.”

“So if Loki just like, hypothetically, died,” Tony rolled his eyes when Loki glared at him, “Hypothetically! Would you lose your powers?”

You swallowed as a knot formed in your throat and looked at Loki with sad eyes, willing him to answer because you surely didn’t have an answer for that.

“Possibly.” Loki clipped out, sending a glare at Tony, as if damning him for making you think of that preposterous idea.

Tony hummed in thought.

“If you’re soulmates, why did she react the way she did when she first saw you?” Thor asked, mostly aiming the question to Loki. Loki looked at Thor, angry, then let out a breath and held his chin high.

“We had a falling out three years ago.”

“No doubt your fault?” Thor said causing Loki to nod once with a roll of his eyes.

“No!” You yelled looking at Loki with exasperation. “I’m the one that chose to leave!”

“I’m the one that gave you an ultimatum.” Loki ground out, frowning at you.

“You were trying to keep me safe.” You said causing Loki to scoff.

“Ok, wait, what happened so we can all choose our sides respectfully here?” Clint asked.

“Shield found out about my powers when I was 17, said once I turn 18 they can give me an offer I can’t refuse. I could work for them. Loki said not to do it because it sounded like they were gonna use me as a weapon, that we knew nothing about Shield and what it stood for,” You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose with closed eyes, “I told him I was gonna take up their offer considering I had a bad home life, he argued Shield could be more dangerous and I told him I was still gonna take the offer anyways so he offered an ultimatum.” Letting your hand fall down to your lap and over Loki’s, still resting on your lap. You softly caressed his knuckles under the table. When you had closed your eyes, to pinch your bridge, you missed the concerned look Loki gave as he saw the violet bruises on your knuckles.

“He said if I leave to never come back because he wouldn’t be able to watch me get hurt.”

Tony breathed through his teeth, a hiss, but otherwise everyone stayed silent.

“I left.” You finished lamely.

The table stayed silent for awhile, everyone gathering their thoughts and questions, until Steve spoke up.

“After she left, what did you do Loki?”

“I had Heimdal watch over her-”

“He is all seeing.” Thor said quickly to help out.

“-and I told him that if she were to find any trouble she could not handle to send me to her.”

You looked up at Loki, shocked, who zealously kept his eyes on Steve. You offered what comfort you could by grasping his hand and squeezing. You smiled inwardly as Loki’s tense form softened slightly.

“I’m taking it she never ran into trouble she couldn’t handle.” Steve said, more as a statement than a question.

“From what Heimdal has told me, joining Shield is the best thing to happen to her and I almost stopped that.”

“You couldn’t have known.” You said quietly, frowning in thought, Loki finally looked down at you and your heart almost broke in half at the hurt in his eyes.

“All you wanted was the best for me and I’m sorry I left,” You looked down and squeezing his hand before looking back up at his eyes, “I’m sorry I left and never tried to reach you again but I’m not sorry about the decision I made.”

Loki looked at you for a bit then nodded, satisfied with something he found on your face or possibly in your eyes. “I’m sorry I never tried to reach out to you too.” Loki admitted.

You glanced at Thor who sat next to Loki, looking a little put out he never knew about the both of you.

“Sorry we didn’t tell you Thor I kind of wanted to keep it a secret because I was going through a lot and wasn’t very trusting of strangers at the time.” You said to placate Thor, making the blame fall on you instead of Loki since their relationship was already rocky to begin with. A minor way you could apologize to Loki about not contacting him.

Thor smiled, genuinely, then said “I’m just happy to make your acquaintance now, y/n.”

Everyone went back to eating their almost cold meal now. Natasha and Clint the only ones that noted that you and Loki ate with one hand the entire time.

Conversations flowed between the team smoothly like you all were meant to be there, together. No one made any comments on the fact that you and Loki couldn’t keep your eyes off each other the entire time either.

Pt. 7/Pt. 8/?

Tag list: @justfangirlthingies @emelieh99 @high-functioning-lokipath

#loki x reader #avengers #my writing #loki #loki odinson #astral pt7 #astral #gif #tony stark #thor #I TOTALLY FORGOT BOUT BRUCE FUCK THERE ARE TOO MANY AVENGERS GDI #were gonna pretend bruce was helping shield do something on the helicarrier or left or something idk if i can find a way to bring him back #i will think of something im so sorry for bruce fans XDDDD #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #clint barton #reader insert #GUYS THEYRE BACK TOGETHER HOW DOES IT FEEL????#LOKI IS SHOWING HIS EMOTIONS IN FRONT OF THE TEAM #YOULL BE SURE TO TELL HIM YOU APPRECIATE HIM SHOWING IT TOO #DONT WORRY #ok so the next chapters imma make fluffy and cute cuz like yall deserve it after waiting for them to get back together #plus i love happiness #but that doesn't mean something bad wont happen #and you have no idea when it's gonna happen >:DDDDD #sorry i like angst #with a happy ending of course #or maybe ill make this my first time to do angst with an unhappy ending #nah im jk i cant do that yet #or can i?

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burnedbyshoto · 5 years ago

Text

that final phone call

— Miruko is one tough rabbit, but eventually even the toughest of people need a helping hand. —

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pairing: usagiyama rumi (miruko) x fem!reader

warnings: angst, cursing, blood

word count: 5,836

a/n: this is for the bnharem angst april collaboration!!! here for the best girl miruko. I would die for her and yuh, im so tired its 5:40 am and I just finished this LMAOOO and its scheduled for 9am posting. lets hope for the best, enjoy bbs. angst masterlist here.

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Riiing.

“Pick up…”

Riiing.

“Don’t ignore this…”

Riiingggg.

“P-Please pick up,” Rumi mumbled into the phone, her head spinning, her breathing weak and faint. “Pick up the phone, y/n…”

Riiing.

“Please…”

Riiing.

Rii—

“H-Hello?” your tired voice answered, and just like that, warmth flooded Rumi’s chest. She had to resist the urge from cringing; there was no reason to cringe, she berated herself, accept your feelings Rumi. “If this a prank call, I swear—”

“Y/n,” Rumi finally whispered, the energy that always existed within her fading quickly.

She didn’t need to be in the same room with you; she already knew what you were doing. How your back stiffened at the sound of her voice and how your stomach clenched, remembering what had happened two months ago.

“Why are you calling?” you said so emotionlessly that it was a sucker punch to Rumi’s stomach. A sharp reminder of what she did to you, of what had happened because she was weak.

A ragged breath escaped Rumi’s lips while she closed her eyes, her head laying against the cold concrete, listening to the lull of the line.

“I needed to hear your voice…”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

One and a half years ago.

Usagiyama Rumi, better known as the Number Five Pro Hero Miruko was — to put it lightly — a powerhouse.

Known for her almost brash entrances, sturdy legs, and quick temper, it made sense as to why she wasn’t known as the Bunny Hero. She wasn’t soft enough to be a bunny, nor was she meek or gentle. No, Rumi was a hurricane of energy. She was fast, vibrant, and deadly. She was unmatched in her field of expertise, and she had no problem demanding people know that about her. She dived into her work, no matter how big or how small she handled everything with her fullest capability.

She was obsessed with her job because she always had something to prove.

But even a workaholic such as herself needed a break — or at least time outside of her uniform.

It was nearing midnight, and Rumi was strolling the dark streets of Hiroshima, her hands shoved into her jacket pockets. At the same time, she observed the neighborhoods she protected. It was a Saturday night, meaning that street life was quite busy. After working for two months straight without a single day off, her office staff had forced a two-day vacation on her. Still, it didn’t stop her from scouting these blocks for any sign of criminal activity.

But she stilled when she heard loud arguing many alleys ahead, and with an excited smirk, Rumi took off.

It took her approximately thirty seconds to travel an entire block and into an alleyway where a large and burly man was arguing with a small woman. Rumi stilled, her eyebrow quirking in her confusion, what was going on?

“You have to let me in!” you insist again, your nose scrunching in your annoyance, your chest puffing out, and your eyes blazing. “I have reason to believe that there is a drug-pushing gang in this very club!”

Rumi shifted closer to you, and this now apparent bouncer who was looking less than impressed with you. A drug-pushing gang? She had been trying to find intel on that gang but had been coming up dry, she wanted to know more, to find out more. It seemed that it was her lucky day that she wasn’t relaxing at home because it seemed that you had information she could use. It was ballsy of you to show up at a hideout with such demands… she liked that. Rumi’s eyes looked over at you, and her smirk turned into a grin.

You wore a charcoal grey pantsuit, a white shirt underneath the opened blazer with the first two buttons undone. Her eyes noticed the scruffed up short heels you wore, and the way that your hair was in a chaotic bun. How amusing.

“Oh yeah, little miss nosey? And who the hell do you think you are exactly?” he sneered, taking an intimidating step forward.

The bouncer was easily twice your height, and Rumi watched you, expecting you to take a submissive step back, but was surprised to see you hold your ground.

“The investigative journalist for The Daily Hiro!” you inform back, your eyes daring him without a single bit of nervousness in their blaze.

The bouncer opened his mouth, obviously ready to kick your poor journalist ass when another voice from the alleyway spoke up.

“She is not an investigative journalist,” the voice clipped, evidently very annoyed with your words. “She’s an intern. She makes coffee runs and edits my works, ignore her.”

Rumi’s eyes shifted on an angry reporter she knew by name. Hirano Naoko. A ruthless reporter that she often found herself at odds with because he didn’t agree with her... enthusiastic approach to being a hero.

A pained yelp escaped your lips when he grabbed your bicep and pulled you to him.

To an average person, there would be no way to hear the conversation between the reporter and the intern. Still, Rumi was not an ordinary person, after all.

“I thought I told you to take witness’s statements,” he hissed pulling you away into the darkness. “Not stir up fucking trouble! Drop the fucking gang shit before you get wrapped up in things you don’t want to get caught in.”

“But you don’t understand Hirano-sama, I saw—”

“I could give two shits about what you saw! That doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want! This isn’t some fucking cop show, grow the fuck up. You’re an intern, not a reporter!”

Rumi figured she had enough.

“Hold on!” she yelled, her voice bouncing off the walls of the alleyway, and all three heads snapped her way. Her arms folded across her chest while she tilted her head. There was nothing like the way all three eyes widening when they recognized the famed Rabbit Hero standing before them with a feral grin and civilian clothes. “I want to see if this intern is right, open the door, bouncer.”

The bouncer was like a mountain to the Rabbit.

Tall, muscular, and frightening in this dim and yellow light.

“M-Miruko!” he stammered, his fingers searching for something, and Rumi lowered her stance. Was he trying to inform them that she was here? “What a pleasure seeing you here!”

Then she heard it, the familiar noise of shuffling plastic. He was trying to alert someone.

In an instant, she was before him, her heel slamming onto his chin and sending him flying, knocked out cold.

“This is why we wear heels,” she snickered, watching the mountain of a man crumble to his face. How weak, pathetic. Her attention turned to you, the intern who looked both ready to pass out from this scare and vibrating with excitement. “Intern, you promise those villains are in there?!”

Your eyes flutter, and Rumi takes you all in. Strands of hair fall over your eyes, your painted lips pulled into a large ‘o’ from your shock, but there was that confidence in your eyes that made her lick her lips in anticipation.

“On my life.”

Rumi snickered, now that was an answer she wanted to hear.

And as a one-woman show goes, she flung open the door and, in under twenty minutes, single-handedly brought down the most extensive drug unit within Hiroshima. She had defeated them all, leaving her with significant cuts on her cheeks and arms, a fat lip, a broken heel, and bruises on her toes. But damn did she feel alive.

Rumi watched with a broad grin when the twenty-three men were put into police cars, their injuries far worse than her own. How amazing was that! Months of worrying disappearing on a leisurely night stroll! She couldn’t have done it without… her mouth frowned.

She did it with help?

Her eyes flew over to you, an intern, talking to the cops with a whole file that seemed to come from nowhere with incriminating evidence against this group. Rumi shoved off the medics that were applying more useless bandages on her and walked over to you.

“Oi, intern!” she called, and both you and the police officer turned around. Thankfully, the police officer was either done interviewing you or smart enough to leave once Rumi approached with her trademark grin. “You did good work out there.”

“Miruko-san, oh, um, thank you!” you smiled in return, bowing in greeting when she stopped in front of you. “Congratulations on closing that case!”

“How did you crack them? I’ve been working on finding them slip up for months now, but you figured it out?” Rumi asked, her arms folding and head tilting. “What did you see that I missed?”

Rumi could hear your heart stop and watched the way your eyes widened significantly. “O-Oh, well, I don’t know… I guess I have a knack of being at the right place at the right time?” you laughed, rubbing the back of your head. “To be honest, it was probably more important to me than it was to you… so I able to crack it before you?”

“What makes you say that?” Rumi asks, unsure if she should be offended or not. “Are you trying to say that I’m not working hard enough?!”

“Oh my god, no!” you panic, your hands out in a motion of retreat, your head shaking quickly. Rumi wanted to open her mouth and grill you for answers, but there was something about you that made her hesitate, that made her still. You shrug your shoulders, your hands clasping together. “My future career was riding on this case. The company thinks I’m a nutjob, so if I could prove my ‘conspiracy theories’ were right, I could finally be appointed a job as a journalist!”

Rumi hummed, taking a step closer to you, enjoying the way that your heart sped up when she did so, her head tilting in her amusement, “Well, you did what you had to do, congrats.”

“T-Thank you!” you brighten at the praise, and Rumi does everything she can to not throw an arm around you.

“Usagiyama Rumi,” she introduced herself to you, her hand extended.

You stared at her hand as if she was some goddess instead of a person. But that fire that had interested her well before that erupted back in your eyes. You extended your hand, grasping hers firmly.

“Y/l/n y/n,” you grin, and it’s at this very moment that Rumi solidifies that she indeed likes you.

You were a quiet fire, unlike her own raging one, but she was no idiot. You were something that would burn the entire world down because no one would see you coming, and she liked it.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Six months later.

“RUMI!” your voice shrieks from the kitchen. “HAVE YOU SEEN MY LAPTOP?!”

Rumi was soaking in a bath right now, her eyes closed while absorbing the warm water. Two weeks of straight and intense battles had left her body a bit beat up, but hey, she was currently in her girlfriend’s apartment presently being taught how to relax.

Yes, shocking, her girlfriend’s apartment.

It took a solid week for Rumi to realize that she had feelings for her, something that took a while for her to sort out because she thought she was mentally ill for a second. Nevertheless, her good friend Hawks laughed in her face about how she was not dying but instead just having romantic feelings for you. After that, it took two seconds for her to confess and three minutes for you to say yes.

It was very new for both of you, but Rumi was very pleased with where everything was going at the moment. Dating certainly wasn’t something on her radar for years now, but for some reason, that fire that burned through your soul was enough to pique her interest.

“Check under the bed!” she called back, listening to your feet shuffling against the wooden floor to get to the bedroom.

“Aha, I found it!”

Rumi cracked open a single eye to watch you waddle into the bathroom with the laptop in your hands and a wide grin on your face.

“So, I’m a junior journalist now, nothing too big or fancy, but… I think I have something outstanding in the making!” you excitedly inform her, throwing open the laptop while sinking to the floor next to the tub.

“I thought you said bath time was a no-work zone,” Rumi teases her lips perking and her red eyes drilling into your own.

An embarrassed look flashed across your face, but as you always did, you stood your ground and challenged her.

“I can give my information to a hero who wants it then!” you huff, moving to close the electronic device. “Like you care about my rule, anyways!”

“What a brat!” Rumi barks with laughter, her shoulders rolling in the warm and murky water. Her eyes watched the way her long white hair gently flowed in the water, something you had pointed out looked like moonbeams one night. It had been stupidly stupid, and she would forever remember the way you curled in a ball at your embarrassment. “Tell me!”

Snickering, you nodded, your fingers moving quickly against your keyboard while you searched for the document.

“I have information on the soon to be most dangerous crime group out there,” you inform her, your voice taking on a serious note when you look up at her. “Name it, they’ve done it, and worse yet, they’re a cultish family.”

Rumi felt a chill run down her spine at that information. That wasn’t a title you gave out quickly, nor with such confidence. Together the two of you had taken down four villain groups, and some of them had been nasty fuckers.

“What’s their name?”

“They go by the name Shinseina,” you inform her, your knees pulling up to your chest, the laptop balanced on your knees to show Rumi your document. “I got one tip about two months ago, and that’s all I’ve managed to find on them.”

Rumi stared at the document.

‘Organization Name: Shinseina

Symbol: A Black Sun

Number of Members: ???

Warnings: ???

Leaders: ???

Location of Base: HQ thought to be in Hiroshima, the possibility of there being more is very high

Crimes: Quirk canceling drugs, quirk enhancing drugs, murder, gang affiliation, rape, robbery, theft, illegal quirk usage, money laundering, and 12 more.

Number of Heroes Killed: 16+.’

Two months of hard work, and that was all you had managed.

Rumi didn’t even need to use her quirk to hear your hammering heart, this was obviously upsetting you.

Sighing, she pulled her wrinkled hand out of the tub to motion for you to place the laptop away, her eyes holding yours when you do as commanded. “Come here, loser.”

“That’s rude,” you grumble, but still, you slide to the edge of the tub and watch Rumi.

Rumi sits up in the tub, her lips pressing against yours in a sweet embrace.

Your eyes flutter close at the feeling of her soft and smooth lips against yours. The slight coldness of her skin from just sitting in this water, sending a pleasurable shiver down your spine. Rumi chuckled, and the next thing you knew, she was dragging you in.

Rumi relished in the way your pitched screams echoed off the walls, your denial of being brought into the water was useless. Eventually, she pulled your fully clothed body into the lukewarm water with her, and your cries of disapproval faded into beautiful laughter.

Your cheeks burned while Rumi’s fur stood up in triumphant victory.

“I told ya, squirt, I don’t lose.”

You slammed your head against her collarbone, moaning loudly in your defeat, “I hate you!!!”

“Sure, you do!”

Rumi could only dodge out of your way when you went in for a weak attack. It was okay though, she thought, teasing you again for your weak punch. She would always protect you.

Her eyes rapidly blinked when those thoughts fully sank into her mind.

Excuse me?

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Six months later.

“An obstacle course?” you repeated, your eyes looking at the bouncy house that was apparently a place for a date. While you pursed your lips, Rumi looked back at her friends who seemed excited. “I’m sorry, but in what world do you expect me — a journalist — to be able to keep up with you Heroes?

Rumi once again turned back to look at Hawks and his intern, who both seem ready to compete. So she turned back around to face you and nodded in egotistical confidence. Your mouth dropped when she finished nodding.

“The only time I exercise is when I chase after people who run away from me!” You cry, obviously not at all prepared to compete against people who practically worked out for living!

“Don’t worry, they won’t use their quirks, and this is a team obstacle course!” Rumi laughs, her arms flexing to show you that there was nothing to worry about. She would make sure you both won even if that meant she would have to carry you to the finish line. “I won’t let you get hurt,”

She knew you wouldn’t like the idea of it; after all, you hated losing. But you were not one to back away from a challenge, and Rumi loved that about you.

“Fine,” you huff, turning towards the obstacle course.

With a loud hoot, Rumi bounced after you, an arm wrapping tightly around your shoulders.

“This’ll be fun.”

The objective of the course was to get across some pretty insane things together. There was a maze, obstacles to climb over, crawl over, powerfully slam through, all leading up to a freakishly tall wall to go down a slide, which was the finish line. Rumi was brimming with excitement, if she had to launch you across the course, she would. No way in hell was she going to let Hawks of all people beat her.

Shoes came off, and Rumi bounced on her toes at the entrance. She was shoulder to shoulder with both you and Hawks, and her eyes were on the finish line. She was going to win with you, that was the truth.

The employee working the festival stand sighed, staring at the four of you and getting an okay from his coworker.

“You both need to be at the final obstacle at the very end, but only one person needs to cross the finish line to be the winner,” he explained, and his hand raised for a countdown. “Ready?”

Rumi turned toward you, her hand reaching out and grabbing yours and placing a reassuring kiss on the back of your hand.

“Set.”

“Stop being so gay, Rumi, how embarrassing,” Hawks teased to her right.

“Suck my lesbian ass, pigeon.”

“Go.”

Rumi took off instantly, tugging you along with her, and before she knew it, the two of you were on the course. It was actually going better than she was expecting, you weren’t as incapable as you thought. You were able to keep up with a bit of struggle, but Hawks had smacked into a wall earlier, so she wasn’t concerned.

Obstacle after obstacle, the two of you conquered until you reached the wall.

Rumi looked back and noticed that Hawks and his intern were still stuck on the second to last course. That maze had been pretty bullshit.

“I’ll climb first!” Rumi explained, and you agreed with a pant.

Rumi turned back to the wall and began climbing the poorly reinforced steps that were there. It was obviously constructed to be able to withstand a child’s footing and not anyone over the age of seven. So as it was already stupidly tall, it was a struggle to climb.

Rumi was almost to the top when she looked down at you. You were a few steps down, your face twisted in your attempt to concentrate, your arms wobbling under the strain of trying to support yourself. Her attention snapped over to Hawks, who seemed to be scaling the wall, and her eyes widened.

She needed to win.

She scampered up a few more steps before a cry came out.

“R-Rumi!”

Her focus slammed back to you and the way that your fingers slipped from the grasp, and in slow motion, you tumbled. It was without a doubt that this fall wouldn’t have hurt you, not a chance in hell would you have been injured, but Rumi’s instincts took over, and before she knew it, her arms were wrapped around you.

The trampoline bottom crashed onto her back, and you slammed onto her stomach.

Rumi had caught you.

She groaned at the discomfort caused by this action but lay still her hands stroking your cheek. Your eyes were wide, staring up at your girlfriend in complete shock.

“Are you okay?” Rumi asks in a rare moment of softness. “You weren’t hurt, right?”

“Why did you jump after me?!” you yell that amusement she loved so much burning brightly in your gaze. “I wouldn’t have been hurt, you dork!”

“I promised I wouldn’t let you get hurt,” Rumi insists, rubbing her nose against yours.

Once again, she can hear your hammering heart, and it relaxes her.

“But you let Hawks win!”

Rumi blinks at the realization, and suddenly the wheels in her head are turning rapidly.

“Would you ladies mind moving? The champions are ready to visit other stands unless you don’t wanna hang with us anymore!” Hawks calls out to both Rumi and you.

Rumi watches silently when you push off her, pressing a grateful kiss to her lips before responding back to the Pro Hero.

“Oh, Hawks! Has Rumi told you about the new detail about the Shinseina case I’m working on?” you called off, skipping to catch up with her friend that she had allowed to win.

Rumi gave up a victory for you… she threw it away to save you from nothing… she thought that there were things about you that she loved. It didn’t sit well in her chest, and she watched with a twitching nose when you exited the course with that captivating bright smile.

She couldn’t be in love… no, there was no way!

Love made you weak! Love made you insignificant! Love was a demonstration that you weren’t strong enough on your own, and to Rumi — no, to Miruko — that wasn’t okay.

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Four months later.

Rumi at the edge of your bed, her head down, ears wilted, nose twitching, and face clouded.

What the fuck was wrong with her?

“Bunny?” your tired voice called out in the silence of the night.

The noise surprised Rumi. It had so quiet until then, and it had completely caught her off guard. Her! The Pro Hero with some of the best ears around! Who could hear the quietest things meters away!

“Are you okay?”

Rumi wasn’t okay.

“I pulled a kick today,” she whispered to you, her hands shifting into fists on her lap. She shook with rage, her body trembling like a leaf.

“Is that a… a bad thing?” you yawn, shifting on the bed and finding her body, relaxing at the heat she gives off.

“Yes.” Rumi snaps, her body stiffening against your touch. “Yes, it’s obviously a bad thing.”

“Why?”

Why?

Rumi’s eyes concentrate on her bruised thighs, her frown increasing. How could she tell you the truth? How could she say that you were her weakness?

For years she had been a headstrong hero, someone who didn’t think but reacted. She lived her life to the fullest every day, and she gave it her all every chance she got. It applied to her social life and her work life, especially her work life. She wasn’t one to laze about; she would die on the job if she had to, and her opponents always knew that, but lately, things had changed.

She found herself praying to some god about making sure she lived through these battles so she could go home to you. She prayed that someone else would find the Shinseina and bring them down so she wouldn’t be taken down. Being weak wasn’t a problem; after all, she was motherfucking Miruko, so she was used to building on her weaknesses, but this was different. No matter what she did, she couldn’t love you any less. Fuck, did she love you.

She loved the way your eyes narrowed whenever you interviewed people. She loved how you were quickly gaining traction in the media for being the best investigative journalist ever. She was so in love with you, and that’s where the problem was. Her love for you was so pure, so genuine, she wanted to give you the fairy tale ending. She tried to think before she acted, and villains were starting to notice.

Villains were threatening to hurt you, and Rumi was trapped.

“We need to break up.”

You weren’t expecting that, not in the slightest.

“W-What?”

“I don’t want to be with you anymore,” Rumi lies, and she feels you move away from her body, and it takes everything in her to not cry.

“Why not?” you ask, your voice steely smooth.

“You were access to the information I wanted. My office team is ass, and you were always getting your hands dirty with cases I needed to solve. But it seems that you’re nowhere near close to figuring out the last group I care about,” Rumi wills herself to say, her ears moving back up to show that she wasn’t lying. “I pretended for a year to be in love with you, but I can’t anymore.”

“Y-You’re not a great liar,” you state, challenging her false words.

Rumi loved it when you challenged her, but there was no time for that. So with a tight chest and flaring red eyes, she snapped around towards you, lips pulled into a snarl.

“Do you think I’m lying, y/l/n? I stuck around because you made me stronger, but now? You’re no better than the dirt on my shoes. Pathetic, useless, and a disgrace. I don’t need you anymore, so I’m cutting this off because I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Standing up, Rumi storms over to the door, ready to leave.

She wishes she could say that it ended there, but it didn’t. Not even close to being done.

You spat acid at her, and she returned it at the same toxicity. Over and over again, the two of you verbally battled. False emotions taking the better of you both until you were in her face, tears streaming down your face, fingers shaking in her face.

“You are a fucking coward, Usagiyama,” you sneer, the effect only dramatized by your red eyes and deep eye bags. “Get over your stupid fucking commitment issues, being apart of a team i-is not weak! I’m here to make you stronger, not for you to want to be a one-man squad again! You’ll die alone that way!”

“I know being apart of a team isn’t weak,” Rumi states, her heart long frozen over. “I just don’t want to be apart of yours anymore.”

A humorless laugh escapes your mouth, and you shake your head, “Don’t show your face here again, if I see you, I’ll call the cops.”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“— and Miruko, you’ll enter first. You’ll be alone for about five minutes if that’s okay.”

Rumi looked up, her mind freed from her daydream about what was happening.

It was two months since she had broken up with you, and things had only taken a turn for the worse. She threw herself into work. Overusing her quirk in ways that over-injured villains who were petty thieves, or underusing it in ways that she kept landing herself in the hospital. To put it simply, the rabbit hero was a mess.

“Yeah, got it,” she nodded.

Things with the Shinseina ended up being brought to the light finally by you. You had noticed a slight clue in your office that had been undetected and ended up having you thrown into the Witness Protection Program due to the severity of the secret. But still, you provided an updated and completed information:

‘Organization Name: Shinseina

Symbol: A Black Sun

Number of Members: 237 thugs and lower cult members, 57 leaders and mid cult members, 12 senior members of the cult, 1 leader.

Warnings: All have dangerous quirks that can be used for assassination.

Leaders: Hirano Naoko

Location of Base: HQ - Hiroshima. Other sites detailed in the secondary report.

Crimes: Quirk canceling drugs, quirk enhancing drugs, murder, gang affiliation, rape, robbery, theft, illegal quirk usage, money laundering, and 12 more.

Number of Heroes Killed: 84’

“Hey, you get one call on this, we don’t want them finding anything on us in case we fail,” the leader spoke to her. Miruko breathed in deeply, accepting the cellphone that was given to her.

“Got it, thank you,” she muttered, and with that, they headed out.

Five minutes, that’s all it was.

Five minutes for Miruko, the Rabbit Hero, was nothing. Especially when she was zipping through room to room, taking out cult member after cult member. Everything was a blur, and she could only see her streaming hair following her like moonbeams in her wake.

Moonbeams…

Rumi thought of you, your face when you were happy when you were sad, and that night you broke up. Her lip trembled when her foot connected with someone’s chin sending them flying. Panting harshly, she stood in a room full of unconscious cult members. She had three minutes before backup would storm through the door, but which door to—

“SHIT!”

She just felt the impact. An intense tingle, similar to a severe electric shock coursing through her body. Rumi realized then that thousands upon thousands of circuits have just been broken, and it was burning her up. The heat was nothing she could have ever imagined, festering strongly in her bleeding wound. But there was still no pain when her foot connected with the man’s throat, instantly knocking him out.

He had snuck up on her, his quirk concealing him even from her rabbit ears.

Rumi whimpered when she fell to the ground, blood pouring from her wound despite her best efforts. He had managed to land seven blows on her, and the world was darkening quickly.

Three more minutes until they came, but she could call them now…

When Rumi collapsed on the floor, her vision swam when she pulled out the phone, a warm and sticky puddle forming underneath her, staining everything that was white about her. Rumi’s fingers punching in the number she wanted to call.

Riiing.

“Pick up…”

Riiing.

“Don’t ignore this…”

Riiingggg.

“P-Please pick up,” Rumi mumbled into the phone, her head spinning, her breathing weak and faint. “Pick up the phone, y/n…”

Riiing.

“Please…”

Riiing.

Rii—

“Y/n,” Rumi finally whispered, the energy that always existed within her fading quickly.

“Why are you calling?” you said so emotionlessly that it was a sucker punch to Rumi’s stomach. A sharp reminder of what she did to you, of what had happened because she was weak.

A ragged breath escaped Rumi’s lips while she closed her eyes, her head laying against the cold concrete, listening to the lull of the line.

“I needed to hear your voice…”

“Do you even know what time it is?” you almost growl, and that fighting spirit sends a warm feeling in Rumi’s chest. “What in the fuck do you need?”

“It’s two a.m., I know that, but I need you right now,” Rumi staggers into the mic, your spirit bleeding through the call.

The line goes silent for a bit, and Rumi’s eyes feel heavier with every passing second. She wants to tell you she loves you, please give her the chance to say it.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t go back to you anymore,” you curtly respond. “You made sure of that.”

How ironic, Rumi thought, because now she would never go back to you anymore… never…

“I know,” she hoarsely responds back, her mouth trembling and tears slowly pouring from her eyes. It hurt so much, how horrible it was to go out because of stab wounds. Of all ways to go out, she never expected it to be like this, nor did she expect it to be done with regret in her actions. Because fuck, she regretted how she ended it with you. She regretted letting you go. She thought of your face and how you looked the first time she admitted she loved you, of how dorky you were for your first anniversary. How your eyes glowed whenever you corned the people you were investigating with something that seemed straight from a story. “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry, y/n…”

“Are… are you okay, Usagiyama?”

“I love you…” she whispered before the phone fell from her fingers, crashing onto the bloodied floor.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

You stared at the phone, confused.

Frowning you placed it down, the call had ended, but why was she calling you?

How this stupid bunny pissed you off sometimes. Turning your phone back on, you went to recent calls and recalled the number she had reached you on.

Riiing.

“Sorry, but the number you’ve tried to call is no longer available, please try again. Thank you!”

Beep.

You frowned a pit forming in your stomach, but you put your phone away, and for some reason, you couldn’t fall back asleep that night.

It was eight in the morning when your phone blew up, and with a heavy hand, you grabbed your phone and looked at the billowing messages. And at the headliner, your stomach dropped to your toes, and bile climbed to your mouth.

‘RABBIT HERO: MIRUKO KILLED IN ACTION DURING Shinseina RAID!: It’s being reported that she was stabbed several times while alone, and while she was given a phone for backup, she used it on a call they cant trace.’

You couldn’t read it anymore, your heart hammering erratically while a blood-curdling scream escaped your mouth.

She was gone, she had called you last night to say goodbye, and you didn’t give her the time of day. She was gone, and you would never get the chance to convince her that having a life partner wasn’t weak.

Usagiyama Rumi was gone, and no amount of hoping, praying, or crying was going to bring her back to you or to redo that final phone call.

#miruko x reader #mirko x reader #usagiyama rumi x reader #bnha #bnha x reader

1K notes · View notes

ssamie · 4 years ago

Text

three. YOURE SO LOVELY

suna rintaro x fem! mitsuri reader

(kny x hq)

warnings: spelling mistakes, 3k+ words, italicized words/ sentences are her thoughts, mitsuri’s hair+eye color was used.

gen masterlist. sakura mochi.

"kita-san, i can help you!!" she exclaimed as she snatched the buckets of water bottles from him "oh no, you don't have to" kita declined as a guilty frown etched itself onto his lips

"its alright, i don't want you to be tired" she said as she carried the buckets with ease "now, where are you headed with these?" she asked him as she hummed a melody under her breath

"i was headed to the gym for practice." kita replied. he kept his eyes on her as his hands itched to take the weights off her hands, not wanting her to strain herself.

" you're practicing volleyball?!" she asked excitedly "i've always wanted to see you play! samu-kun told me you're the captain and i-" she quickly cut herself off before she could give him a two hour rant on how she saw him as the perfect husband.

"sorry.. i was just excited" she chuckled sheepishly at him

"its alright" kita assured her "you can stay at the gym if you want to watch" her pale green eyes sparkled in happiness, and her lips curled into a shaky grin. "i can't wait!" she exclaimed.

and to emphasise her point, she stacked the buckets on top of each other and balanced all the weight on her left arm and she used her free hand to grasp his as she giddily pulled kita along while she basically ran towards the gym

"y/n-san, please slow down" kita said as he tried to keep her in place. she didn't listen and kept on running, not stopping until they reach the gym doors. she hid against the wall as she peeked inside to watch the boys practice serves, while some simply talked amongst themselves.

'osamu-kun looks so cool and mysterious..' she thought as her eyes planted themselves onto osamu

'but atsumu-kun looks so cute while tossing!' she gushed

her eyes averted towards the blonde as she watched him practice tosses against a wall

'and suna-kun..' she trailed off

her eyes roamed the gym to look for a certain middle blocker, only to find him laying on the bench while scrolling on his phone

'suna-kun looks so pretty while laying down!' she gushed ‘it must be because of fatigue..' she thought 'but suna-kun is pretty lazy..'

she hummed to herself as she stared at suna longingly, wondering what could be so interesting in that phone of his

'ah, it doesn't matter' she shook her head 'he still looks beautiful!' she thought as a blush crept up on her cheeks. she shuffled around nervously, trying not to squeal out loud as she watched the boys practice

"y/n-san.." kita called out. he has a faint ghost of a smile grazing his lips as he watched the girl converse with herself in her head

"oh! kita! yer here" atsumu exclaimed as he caught a glimpse of their captain by the door "yeah, let's start practice now please" kita said as he exchanged his outdoor shoes with his volleyball sneakers

"oh, and y/n yer here too!" atsumu cheered as he skipped towards her

"atsumu-kun.." she mumbled ad she shyly waved hello "i wanted to see you guys play" she said "kita-san said it was fine for me to stay.."

"awesome! cmon, you haven't met the others yet" atsumu said as he pulled her inside, taking one of the buckets from her "oof- these are kinda heavy" atsumu sweat dropped as he mildly struggled to stand up straight from all the weight pulling him down

"oh, i can take it from you if you want" she offered with a kind smile as she snatched it from atsumu's hands

"damn, that girl's strong.." ginjima mumbled to suna as he watched her converse with kita by the benches

suna merely glanced away from his phone to look at her. his eyebrows raised in amusement as he watched her pester kita with compliments and questions. "kinda cute too" ginjima mused "i wonder if she'd say yes to a date.."

suna turned to face his friend and kicked him lightly with his foot "she'll probably say no" suna teased "ehh?! easy for you to tease me! i heard from tsumu that she's basically obsessed with you!" ginjima whined

"not all of us have an acing sex appeal" he sulked

suna simply snickered and shook his head at his statement, tucking away his phone as soon as he felt kita's piercing stare on him "whatever dude"

and so, their practice ensued, all while y/n sat by the bench, preparing their waters and towels for after

"tsumu's serving" she muttered with an astonished smile as the gym suddenly fell into silence "wow, that was so cool!" she squealed as she watched the ball hit the ground at an alarming speed and force, all from atsumu's serve

"another one..?" she muttered to herself as she watched atsumu dribble another ball. she placed her hands over her mouth to keep quiet. she didn't want to be the reason for tsumu's serve to fail.

'atsumu-kun looks so handsome when he's concentrating!' she thought to herself in surprise. she watched intently as his palm made contact with the ball. a loud clap emitting from it as the ball flies closer to her direction

wait. she paused.

her direction..?

she blinked dumbfoundedly as the ball keeps getting bigger and bigger from her perspective, which undoubtedly meant it was getting closer to hitting her in the face

"y-y/n-chan, watch out!" atsumu exclaimed in fear as he jogged towards the girl

"shit, get away!" suna hissed in worry as he tried to reach for her. he was trying to pull her away before the ball could do some real damage to her face.

all panic seems to wash away as she heard the words of concern coming from them. she simply held out her hand to flick the ball away as a lovestruck look etched itself into her features.

'wah! atsumu and suna were concerned for me?!?! they care about me!!' she awed and gushed internally to herself

"..."

no one uttered a word as a loud bang echoed across the gym walls. the ball hit the wall on the other side at such a fast pace that they almost didn't see it. they looked at the ball which had now dropped to the ground, dribbling slightly before coming to a halt.

the poor ball looked slightly deflated on the side it hit the wall with. it was because the leather had been torn with the amount of force it had endured.

"what the fuck?" atsumu cursed, breaking the silence as his eyes glimmered with astonishment "y/n-chan.." he chuckled "yer packing some real strength in those arms, aren't ya?"

it seems she had finally snapped out of her daydreaming as she followed the boys' eyes, leading towards the deflating ball laying pitifully on the ground

"oh! im sorry!" she shrieked "i-i just flicked it i swear! im sorry, i'll buy you a new one!"

"its fine, y/n-san" kita reassured her. the captain placed his hand on her shoulder in an act of reassurance, since he was quite sure she'd start bawling if he didn't

"really?! i'll do anything in return!" she squeaked out in fear and guilt.

"its just a ball, y/n" kita said to her "we have plenty more"

"oh.. alrigh-"

"ACTUALLY." atsumu intervened, followed by him clearing his throat to gain their attention. "i heard ya say you'll do anything, doll" atsumu mused in a teasing tone

"so what about this.." he paused dramatically for suspense

osamu rolled his eyes at his twin and impatiently tapped his foot against the floor

"what if you-"

"what if ya become our manger?" osamu cut him off

"OI SAMU! YA STOLE MY THUNDER!" atsumu cried out childishly "but really, if ya wanna be the manager we'd love to have you" atsumu said as he slung a towel over his shoulder

the team looked at her expectantly while kita steps forward to bow. "if you would take the position, i assure that we would greatly appreciate to have you as our-"

kita didn't even get to finish, seeing as she was already squealing in excitement. her pale green eyes were beaming and hearts and sparkles seem to ooze out of her due to happiness.

"really?! i can be your manager??" she asked with a huge smile as she cups her flushed cheeks in her hands

'i'll be around them more and i'll be able to take care of them' she chanted repeatedly in her head

'i can take care of them.. i wonder what that would be like...' she thought as various scenarios popped into her head

a specific secenerio popped up where she was wiping away suna's sweat while he drinks from a water bottle

and another one popped up, wherein she was massaging atsumu's arms and shoulders after being strained for such long practices

and another where she combs her fingers through kita's hair, which was slightly damp with sweat, to keep it from poking at his eyes

'AGHH!! that would be so heavenly!' she thought, followed by a silent giggle as she proceeded to daydream

"y/n?" someone called out to her. blinking in surprise, she shook her head and straightened up her posture "yes, kita-san?" she asked in a curt tone

"you seem to be lost in thought, y/n" kita commented with a faint amused smile

"ah, sorry about that" she chuckled sheepishly "but.. will it be okay..?" she asked warily, her eyes grazing at each of the boys for approval

"yeah!" ginjima exclaimed "it'll be our first time havin' a manager"

"yeah, i suppose it's time we get one" aran agreed with a nod "usually the manager applicants are just girls who wanna get close to the boys, or the twins."

with that sentence she froze. she smiled blankly at them as she frantically shook her head

"well, t-that's not what im here for! hahaha" she laughed stiffly and nervously

'oh god. that's definitely what im here for'

'i don't even know anything about volleyball!!' she panicked

'i-is it like swordfighting..?' she thought cluelessly 'maybe.. yeah, probably.'

noticing her conflicted state, osamu sighed and patted her head "its fine, y/n" he said "we know yer just the affectionate type. don't let that get to yer head"

she jumped and shook her head at him, looking up to meet his stoic gaze with a determined one "nope! im gonna be a great manager, osamu-kun!" she exclaimed "so i'll study volleyball and your proper training right now" she said as she pulled out her phone

everyone watched with hesitant smiles as she murmured to herself, reading over some basic volleyball rules and positions on her phone

"i got it! so you hit the ball like bam! and it goes boom boom! and you jump real high so the ball can go woosh!"

she said as she makes various hand movements to further explain her words. "..right?" she asked with an innocent smile

the boys simply nodded along and gave her a thumbs up. they were fooling themselves into thinking they understood whatever just came out of her mouth

"wow, i didn't think it'd be that easy" she hummed happily as she proceeded reading other rules and instructions

"... i don't have the heart to tell 'er" atsumu said with a blank smile "just don't. let her be.." kita said as he watched the girl smile so brightly at them

they quickly put on encouraging smiles as she turns around to face them again "i know how to start this off!" she said with a bright grin as she crossed her arms proudly over her chest

"that's great, y/n-san" kita smiled at her "what do you have in mind?"

"w-what is the point of this?!"

suna exclaimed in partial anger and weariness as he struggled to move his legs

"this is to improve your speed and stamina, suna-kun!" she responded with a bubbly smile as she slowed her running to be at pace with him "i don't think we need to run up a mountain for that, y/n!" aran exclaimed from behind them as he, too, struggled to move

"eh?? but i picked the smallest mountain for you all" she said with a pout as she looked down at their deflated figures "i usually run to the peak and run down again for my morning jogs" she said with a sigh as she fiddled with her braided hair

"you've gotta be kiddin' me! no one can survive that!" atsumu exclaimed

"again, what is the point of this??" suna asked with an exasperated sigh

"well, i looked up 'proper training for volleyball players' and it said to do workouts that can help with stamina, agility, strength and even flexibility"

she handed them bottles of water as they all sat down on the grassy ground "im pretty sure we could've done that in a local gym downtown" osamu said through ragged breaths

she smiled apologetically at them as she handed them towels to wipe their sweat "well, i figured it would be the same as my workouts and training" she hummed thoughtfully

"geez, what kind of training do ya do, y/n?" ginjima mused with a strained smile

she visibly brightened up at that question as she clasped her hands in delight. "well, for agility and stamina, i climb multiple mountains early in the morning!" she said "that way it's cold, and i have restricted oxygen to breathe in!" she said, followed by a sweet smile

the boys all sweat drop and look at her strangely and worriedly. "why would you want that?" kita asked with furrowed brows

"why not?" she chirped back with a smile

"i-.. i could give you many reasons why, but i'll let you be" kita said with a sigh

"next, for my strength training, i usually have my friends accompany me" she said "but judging by how you reacted to this, i don't think you would like it.." she muttered worriedly

"no no, you just made me curious! you gotta tell us now" atsumu said with a raised brow

"well, firstly, i push a huge boulder around my estate!" she chirped out

"a.. a boulder?" atsumu blinked dumbfoundedly "with yer hands?" osamu asked

"well, of course!" she said "why? how do you train your strength?"

"well, an average person would lift weights." suna interjected "im pretty sure pushin' boulders around would only lead to our arms snappin' in half" aran sweat dropped

"well, don't worry! you don't have to do it" she said as she dismissively waved her hands around "instead, we can go back to the miya residence and i'll cook you all some food and mochi!"

the boys all gratefully bowed and nodded, their mouths watering at the thought of food "but before that, we have to climb down again." she hummed out with a close eyed smile

"let's go!" she mused as she pulled them all up from the ground "the first one down gets extra barbecue and mochi!" she said as she started running down the trail

wordlessly, osamu sprinted down along with her, wanting nothing more than food at the moment.

"OI SAMU, YA JERK!" atsumu exclaimed as he sprinted down the trail as well, screaming as he catches up to his twin

"im just gonna sleep real quick" suna said as he settled on the cold ground

"suna, were in a mountain! get up!"

"suna-kun i made you more!" she squealed put in delight as she placed more food onto his plate

"thanks, y/n" suna cooed with a smirk as he happily accepted the food

"this is unfair." atsumu grumbled as he angrily bites into his mochi. y/n had been pampering and codling suna the moment he's walked into the house, calling out her name "yeah, he wasn't even the first who arrived" ginjima agries with a pout

"these are really good, y/n" suna cooed as he chomps down on his food "really?!" she chirped back, smiling sluggishly as hearts and sparkles surround her form

"the obvious bias should be illegal" osamu grumbled out "shut yer trap! yer only mad cause suna gets to eat all the food you were promised" atsumu groaned "well yeah, why else would be upset?" osamu responds

"becouse he's stealing her from us!!" atsumu cried out

suna looked over at his direction and raised a brow "aw, don't worry tsum tsum, it's not your fault you were born that way" suna cooed out

"born what way-" “ugly.”

"suna-kun, would you like some tea?" y/n chirped out as she offered him a cup "y/n-chan" atsumu whined out "what about us??"

she turned to them with a smile, holding a tray of tea in her hand as she bends down to place it on the table "i didnt forget about you, of course!" she mused as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. her chest bounced slightly in her body hugging attire as she skipped away, her baby pink apron swaying around as she does so.

"is this.. heaven?!" atsumu exclaimed as he watched her intently

"no, this is the dining room." kita replied

"no, kita-san! i meant, look at her!" atsumu said as he pointed towards the girl

"i am looking at her." kita raised a brow "he meant look closer." suna chimed in "you gotta look at the details, kita. the details." suna said with narrowed eyes

"and those details are..?" kita questioned him

"the thighs" suna responded almost immediately

aran chuckled and shook his head "didn't peg you as the type of guy" he said "also, is this not considered as form of disrespect?" kita interjected with a frown "im sure she wouldn't love having boys oggle at her body."

"youre right" suna nodded with a shrug "but it's not ogling, it's appreciating"

"how so?"

"when you have a girl like that in your space, that's basically a blessing."

"i still don't get it." kita blurted out quite bluntly "it means, i think she's a very lovely girl" suna snrugs nonchalantly"i see." kita hums "and to you, that includes her thighs, does it not?"

"maybe" suna smirks

just then, y/n walked in, her apron was no longer tied around her waist and she was in the middle of braiding her hair since it was up in two buns a while ago

"what are you guys talking about?" she asks as she took a seat beside kita "suna said that he thinks you're lovely" kita blurts out nonchalantly as he sips on his tea

"eh?" suna blinks at him in shock and betrayal

his olive green orbs dart from his captain and the pink and green haired girl. she stopped braiding her hair as she stared back at suna in surprise "huh?" she mumbled out meekly

"i agree, y/n-san." kita chimed in to break the silence "you're indeed very lovely." he said

she smiled flusteredly as she ducks her head down to hide her bright red face

"thank you..?"

46 notes · View notes

snickiebear · 4 years ago

Note

Hello hello nadia, i’m in a leesaku mood today so pls indulge me with a three-sentence fic for this lil prompt “you are my best friend and I’ve known you platonically for years now but every time you look at me I get fireworks in my chest and butterflies in my stomach” tysm ilyyyy ❤️❤️❤️❤️

haha... this is, two days late. NIASDUKDSK IM SO SORRY THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST YOURE THE BEST ILY

side note: this is.... kind of what you wanted? AND LMAO ITS NOT THREE SENTENCES AGAIN WHOOPS

side side note: this is now crossposted bc i liked it a lot tbh :")

a cocoon in the heart, a spark in the brain.

It starts with a glance. An innocent, fleeting look. Naruto’s smile is too bright to look at for more than a handful of seconds and Sasuke’s glare is too dark to find anything of interest, so Sakura glances away, as she always does.

She glances away and there is Lee, dirtied and bloodied but he holds Neji’s hand, Tenten tucked under his arm, and is laughing, tears streaming down his face. He must have felt her eyes because he looks over and sends her a beaming smile.

And. And her heart picks up, her breath catches.

She quickly looks over to Naruto and Sasuke, being blinded by the light and dark both, and tries her best to not think of why one look from Lee can breed butterflies and moths in her stomach.

They rebuild the village and everyone endures. Sasuke leaves once more because he is a boy who has never known staying, he has never stayed long enough to put roots in, to know how to stay. So, Naruto and Sakura let him go.

(If she is being honest, Sakura is more than happy to have him leave. Sasuke will always be a rotten fruit in the tangle of her feelings, something that she will never quite understand, something that will haunt her no matter what she does. If he is not there, she does not have to think about it. He’s like a curse, and it hurts her to think that but it is true.)

Kakashi is the Hokage and Sakura is still laughing at him, clutching her stomach and howling at her friend’s “misfortune” as he calls it.

“Mah,” Kakashi half drawls, half pleads. “Must you laugh at your poor ex-sensei?”

Naruto is losing his absolute shit as they clutch each other to stay standing. “Kaka-sensei you do not look good in white.”

“It,” Sakura gasps, wiping tears from her face, “It-It really washes you out!”

Naruto’s knees give out and they both tumble to the ground, a mess and tangle of laughing limbs and leaking eyes.

Kakashi sighs heavily from his desk but she knows he’s having just as much fun as they are. Kakashi is her best friend, she knows how he is when he’s drunk out of his mind and when he’s trying to bite back laughter.

The door swings open and Lee steps in with Team Gai flanking him. Neji recovered incredibly well thanks to Sakura’s magic hands (as Naruto has deemed them) and they’ve been taking low ranking missions since he was deemed fit to return to duty.

It takes a few moments for Sakura and Naruto’s heaving, snorting laughter to subside as Kakashi clears his throat, his eyes crinkling up in the way Sakura knows he’s really trying not to laugh.

She looks up and glances at Lee, to find him already watching her, his eyes soft and smile softer. Sakura is a God Slayer along with Naruto and Sasuke, she has faced down hundreds of opponents with only her raw fists and come up victorious, she has dragged people back from the brink of death with a tap.

Sakura does not blush. Out right refuses to.

“Hey,” All breathless and raw from laughter.

Lee’s smile widens as he steps forward to offer his hand, she takes it without hesitation and thanks the God whose heart she ripped out that he was wearing gloves. She can feel the heat through them nonetheless. Sakura does her best not to shiver as their eyes meet.

“You guys heading in or out?” Naruto asks after he hauled himself onto his feet, not hiding the way he eyes Lee and Sakura’s hands. The entire room’s eyes are on them.

“In,” Tenten says slowly, and Sakura does not blush as she carefully extracts her hand from Lees and does not think about why there are fireworks exploding within her mind, why she misses the heat and the way his hand encompasses hers.

She sees him everywhere now.

At the Rusty Kunai, at the training fields, at lunch, sometimes even in the hospital. And every damn time he smiles at her, she feels like she’s coming back to life and being stabbed in the heart.

Sakura has no idea if this was love or just lust. What she felt for Sasuke was not love, that was obsession and cruelty. She had crushes on civilian boys but they were too soft, unmarred compared to her countless scars, visible or not.

Ino stares at her as if she’s the stupidest person in the world and Sakura smacks her for it. She hopes it leaves a bruise. The Bitch. “Stop giving me that look, Pig. I’ll hit you again, don’t tempt me.”

Ino glares as she rubs her arm, sticking out her tongue. “It isn’t my fault you aren’t using that big forehead of yours! You’re telling me that you two drink together, train together, you go to lunch together, he even visits you at the hospital because he knows you haven’t eaten or slept. And then you tell me you get all those stupid fluttery feelings and you don’t know what it means?”

And well. When she puts it like that. . .

Sakura pouts and crosses her arms, “It's confusing!”

“You’re a genius. An actual genius, Sakura.” Ino deadpans. “Your IQ is literally right next to Shikamaru’s. Lee has been in love with you since we were twelve! There is no way you don’t know what this means.”

Groaning, Sakura slumps into Ino’s lap, hiding her face in Ino’s thigh. “When did you become so smart?”

“When I made out with Hinata and then fucked her.” Ino says easily and Sakura laughs. “What? Don’t laugh! It's true!”

Ino cackles when Sakura pinches her calf.

Lee moves with such elegance that Sakura aches with it.

This boy made man who had known nothing but sweat and hardship, who still cups things with such tender and care, who moves so fluidly and hits so brutally.

They are both the earth, solid and unyielding, they are the water, the hills, the mountains. They are unbreakable because they have broken themselves apart, pushed themselves past the very limit to reach where they are.

Sakura and Lee are 20 and they have saved the world.

Now, they tear apart the training grounds just to keep life interesting.

With every dodged fist her heart quickens because Lee is smiling and laughing, calling friendly taunts as she grins right back.

This is nothing like Team 7’s spars, all bloodied teeth and snarling as Sasuke underestimates her again and again and again. Kakashi, Sai, and Yamato know better. Naruto is learning slowly. Sasuke never pays attention enough to know.

No, sparring with Lee is like dancing, is like thriving, and a fresh breath of air at night as fireworks light up the sky and a butterfly lands on your nose.

She lands a kick to his ribs and spends him flying back as she advances swiftly, pinning him down with a hand on his chest, knees on either side of his hips.

A long pause as they try to catch their breathes.

They’re both breathing heavily, Sakura cannot tear her eyes away from him as he reaches a hand to tuck loose hair behind her ear.

“Lee,” She breathes, ignoring the way her face burns and the way butterflies have swarmed her insides, how her heart is raging against her ribcage. “Lee I-”

“Sakura.” Lee says, voice deep and rumbly and cracking. “Sakura, will you go out to lunch with me? Forever. Well, hopefully forever- you are so very Youthful, you are incredibly Strong, you do not need my protection, but Sakura, let me protect you anyways, just as you will me. Sakura-”

She channels her inner Ino and leans down to kiss him, all lips, teeth and tongue. His hands settle on her waist and he flips them without breaking contact and if they weren’t in public, well. . .

Sakura pulls back breathless and wide eyes before forcing the words out, “I’ve known you for years Lee, you’re one of my best friends.” Her hand on his chest can feel the way his breath catches, the way his heart is pounding. “Everytime you look at me I get fireworks in my chest and butterflies in my stomach. They’ve bred and infested my very insides, my brain blooms and rots with the thought of you.”

He is shaking beneath her, staring at her as if she is Divine and Righteous and she cannot think of anything else she would want except his eyes on her.

“Lunch?” She breathes, hand at the base of his neck. “I would like to have lunch with you. Forever. If the offer still stands.”

Lee smiles wide and bright as he stands, pulling Sakura up with him, “The offer will always stand, Sakura. For you, there is very little I would not do.”

She kisses him again and hand in hand they go to lunch.

Facts:

The very first day Lee saw Sakura a cocoon formed within his heart, everytime after that more would form, more would crack.

The butterflies and moths have a home in his heart but only come alive when they see her.

They never die, no matter what he does.

He saw her crack the world open with a first, saw her tear open a God’s chest. He was the first thing she looked at after. He thought he would become alight with it all.

Lee loves Sakura. He always has, he always will. His heart has a butterfly garden full of fireworks just for her.

Her laugh makes his skin prickle, makes his muscles loose. He is addicted to it.

She looks at him like she sees the green of the trees and the blue of the sky. Lee revels in it.

Sakura loves Lee and it nearly breaks him.

He will take her out to lunch until the day they die and well after.

The butterflies and moths and fireworks never go away for either of them. It is the beauty of it all.

#leesaku #silly things from silly friends #sakulee #a shared pen

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needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas · 4 years ago

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I feel bad asking because I feel like you're probably tired of everyone being suddenly obsessed with your mpreg fic, but Imma try anyway: is there any chance you'd consider writing a little pregnant sex scene, with Sooga just lusting/obsessing over Kohga's giant tummy? I man, Sooga's breeding kink has got to be beyond satisfied now. With a side order of him talking to the babies and creeping Kohga out, because that image is, frankly, hilarious? XD

No no! Ask away for ANY of my fics! Seriously. Stroke my ego. Pls.

(no cap im amazed that out of ALL my fics, the one with preggy Kohga is the one people liked the most. Ya'll fucked. I love it)

"Move move move-"

Sooga didn't mean to be so rude, but in this crowded hallway, he had to be. Master Kohga was awaiting his dessert, and Sooga was running late (some issue with the ice that he SWORE he took care of earlier). Kohga had been greatly affected by the new pregnancy, mainly in temperament. He was bossier, louder, angrier than he had ever been. And Sooga loved waiting upon him. He made his way to his room, carefully opening the door with his tray in his hands. Kohga sat there, nude, save for his silk robe, and looking bigger than ever. He had his arms folded across his chest, clearly not happy.

"You took. SO long, Sooga."

"I apologize, there was a situation with the ice. But, it's here now. Please, enjoy."

Kohga accepted it from him, before turning the bowl over in his hands. If he accepted it, he’d eat it. If he didn’t, well. Sooga would feel his fury. He breathed a sigh of relief once Kohga started to tuck in, seeming to no longer be quite so angry. Sooga put his cup of tea next to him on the night stand. He made it extra hot, so it’d be just warm enough for him to properly enjoy it. Kohga stuffed his mouth full of his dessert, before sighing comfortably. Good, that was a sound that meant he wouldn’t get hit.

“Sooga.”

“Yes, Master Kohga?”

“You keep staring.”

“I...apologize. You being pregnant is still so jarring to me. You...look exactly how I pictured you.”

“Pfft. Simp.”

He chuckled, finishing off his ice cream, and handing the bowl to Sooga. Sooga took the bowl from him, and put it on the tray, right next to the tea. He was about to hand him the drink, before stopping.

“Master Kohga? You look sore. Would you like a massage?”

Kohga thought it over, before shrugging, putting his arms behind his head.

“Yeah. I’d like that actually. Dealing with this is hell.”

“I’m so sorry, my Master. Please, allow me to ease your poor aches.”

Sooga oiled up his hands, before crawling into bed. Due to his rather obvious belly, Sooga had to massage his hands, legs, and shoulders, rather than having him lay down on his back. Not that he minded. He liked seeing Master Kohga like this. Leaned back against his bed, surrounded by sheets and pillows, just letting himself be adored. Sooga's hands wandered from his shoulders, down to his hands. He held onto one of his hands, lightly massaging his fingers in his hands. It felt good, seeing his fiery husband all relaxed, all settled, all...incredible, really.

“About time you finally put some damn work in, Sooga. I was getting SO pissed after my video call with Mipha.”

“Did she say something rude?”

“No, she was hanging out with Revali, and HE called me a lazy ass. I told him ‘I made a lung, the fuck did YOU do today?’. Guy is so stuck up.”

“Crass as he may be, he has talents to back him up, Master Kohga. But of course, you’re in the right.”

“COURSE I’m in the-oh, that’s the spot~”

Sooga chuckled. His poor Master Kohga needed his knuckles cracked occasionally, and he could tell it made him feel SO much better.

“You needed that, poor thing.”

“Ugh, I really did. Now what do YOU need?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re gawking. You want something. I’m in a better mood, so what do you want?”

He loved how well Kohga knew him. He leaned up to him, lightly pushing his mask to the side. He pressed his lips right against his, and felt his body shiver once Kohga’s fingers lightly fumbled with his ears. He pulled away, trying not to show how excited he was from just a simple kiss.

“You. I want you. If I may be so humbled.”

“Can we even DO that?”

“We can, I asked Mipha.”

Kohga snorted, lightly shaking his head.

“Course YOU’D ask, pervert. Alright, alright. Come on then, ravage me~”

Oh this image would be burned into his mind for the rest of his life. The sight of a nude, plump Kohga, arms spread out to embrace him, and a smirk at his lips. Was he a lucky man or what?

“With pleasure, my Master.”

He wrapped his arms around him, embracing him as he smothered his lips in his. He kept going for kiss after kiss, even while he pulled his already hard cock out. He had been aroused since he walked in, and suffice to say, he was plenty ready. He kept himself snuggled between Master Kohga’s legs, as he slowly pushed himself in. He was usually more romantic, but he couldn’t go through the slow process of prepping him, not today. Instead, he kept his hands on his hips, pulling and pushing him in rhythm to his own movements.

“Hoo, look at you today. It’s crazy, I can boss you around all day, and you can still get super hard for me at the end of the day.”

Sooga nodded, letting Kohga just sit there and watch. Kohga didn’t want to do any work aside from checking out Sooga’s frame, and Sooga didn’t mind at all.

“Always. I love it when you boss me around. It means you have a use of me. Means there’s a task for me, and only me. And I’d do anything for you.”

“Stop.”

Sooga whined as he forced himself to stop moving. His cock was already throbbing inside of him, and every fiber of his being hated not making love to him.

“D-did I say something wrong?”

“No. You just whine when I make you stop, and it’s cute. Now, pump my cock for me. I’d do it, buuut well. You’re doing it for me.”

Sooga nodded, obeying him as he stroked his cock, nice and fast, just how he liked it. Kohga chuckled, running his fingers through his hair as he sat there, and enjoyed it. He looked right up at Sooga the whole time, letting him suffer. But Sooga didn’t mind. He liked knowing he was pleasing him. Pleasing not only his love, but the bearer of his children. Then Kohga snapped his fingers, and Sooga finally continued, thrusting himself into his ass while he continued to pump his cock.

“You’re so beautiful, Master Kohga. So precious to me.”

He buried his face in his neck, kissing at his bare, warm skin. His lips roamed from his neck, right down to his belly. Something about kissing them as he did...it did something to him. Kohga cried out as Sooga wasn’t being so gentle as he was a second ago, mainly in surprise.

“Geez Sooga, easy boy, easy!”

Kohga tried to hide his arousal in laughter, but Sooga knew better. The way he started to grumble, the way his grip on his body turned desperate.

“I can’t. I really can’t. Look at you. So beautiful, so full of life.”

“Oh. Oh god dammit this was a pregnancy kink-”

Sooga silenced his lips with a kiss, forcing his moans into his lips. Once he parted, Kohga rolled his eyes.

“You wanna fuck me because I’m pregnant. God dammit, Sooga, I thought you were gonna be fucking normal for once.”

“But you’re SO lovely! Look at you! You’re EVERYTHING I wanted! Not to mention ever since your pregnancy, you’ve been SO full of hormones. I can sense them. I can feel them. You’re so needy and demanding, I adore fulfilling every single need of yours. Be it food, massages, or this. I could make love to you for hours if you let me.”

Kohga wanted to tell him off, but god dammit how can you talk shit when you were getting a lovesick stud fucking you up the ass. He bit onto his knuckle, already feeling like he was leaking precum all over Sooga’s poor hand.

“Whatever, Sooga. Just finish me off, you know I get pissed when I don’t finish.”

“So angry~....do you think they’ll be angry too? How adorable, three fussy little ones!”

Sooga was somehow able to keep up the pace while he leaned down to kiss at his tummy.

“Are you three going to be a problem, just like your father? Are you going to be this cute? Are you going to be as cute as he is? I know the answer to the last one! Yes I do!”

Kohga smacked his face with his palm, sighing. God dammit, why did he have to make it weird when he was getting a full throbbing cock right up the ass.

“Sooga, I do NOT want to nut while you’re talking to three fucking fetusus.”

“But they’re precious! I love them! I love YOU! I care about nothing but the four of you!”

Kohga wanted to tell him to shut up, but Sooga let go of his hip, and smacked his ass. Not a weak smack either. A nice, hard smack that you knew was just going to leave a mark. It was just hard enough for Kohga to cum, getting his fluids all over Sooga’s hand. And Sooga, totally obsessed with his pregnant man, licked it all off his hand, as if it was fresh honey. Kohga sat there, heating up like a tea kettle, as Sooga sat there, awaiting further orders. Kohga nodded towards him.

“Alright, alright. You did good. You wanna finish inside?”

“...can I finish...outside?”

“Where are you-”

Kohga didn’t even know why he asked. He scoffed, and motioned with his hand for him to carry on. Sooga pulled out, and, making sure he didn’t put weight on Kohga, started to pump his cock. It was a slow, tedious stroking that Kohga had no idea how he got off to.

“You’re so full of beautiful life. Three CHILDREN. Oh fuck what if they’re all big, strong boys?”

Kohga mumbled some kind of insult, before he shook his head. Sooga’s ‘dad’ fetish was so fucking weird, he didn’t get it. But hey, he liked sounding and Sooga didn’t, they were both kinda fucking weird. So, might as well indulge him.

“Boys, girls, doesn’t matter does it? Because they’re OUR kids, and our family, and-”

Sooga wouldn’t even let him finish his sentence. He came with a swear, and came on his stomach. A big load at that, all over his stomach. Even then, Sooga wasn’t happy with just that, smearing the mess around with his cock. Kohga rolled his eyes, letting him have a moment to do his weird thing. After a second though, he snapped his fingers, getting his attention.

“You done?”

“I...yes. For the most part.”

“Good, I want a bath.”

“...can we stay for a minute?”

“Fucks sake-you can help me wash this off.”

“Deal.”

Sooga leaned down to kiss his lips, grinning from ear to ear.

“I love you all.”

“God you’re an idiot. Hurry up with the bath, I want extra bubbles.”

“Right away.”

Sooga kissed his stomach once more, before quickly jumping out of bed and into the bath. Kohga sighed, looking at his stomach.

“You guys make him so happy, it’s stupid. You better not steal my spotlight, any of you.”

#asks #Kohga #Sooga #lemon #poor Sooga #dude is just so ready to please Kohga #like Sooga couldn't keep away from him even if he asked

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