#Its been officially a whole god damn year that I am looking for a place | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

haruhey · 4 years ago

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Mind If I Join You?

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Word count: 13k (i am SO SORRY i got carried away and this fic turned out SO FILTHY but i hit 300 followers so consider this a gift??)

Established Relationship Fluff | Smut

There’s only one bed shower, and Daryl Dixon is an opportunist.

the request:

every single fic of yours is seriously amazing. ur a great writer!! can i request a daryl shower smut bc wooweeeee

There’s always a giddiness inside Daryl when he returns from runs. No more sleeping in the RV for nights on end, no more eating cold canned chicken soup and - as much as he liked Aaron - no more hearing him talk about how much he missed Eric and making him miss you, too. He’s exhausted, his muscles sore from overuse, but the fact that you’re probably curled up in bed makes him so damn excited that all the ailments of his aging body are swiftly forgotten with each step he takes.

Houses fly by in a blur as he ramps up into a jog, his feet taking him to the dim light of a moving lantern in your shared bedroom window. By Daryl’s estimate, it couldn’t have been more than 10 or 11pm, but time meant little in the apocalypse - it was either dark out, or light and with the days getting shorter, he noticed you using the lantern more and more frequently. Just a few days ago, you had fallen asleep curled up on his chest, the soft orange light filling the room before he strained his body trying to turn it off without waking you. The next morning he had a terrible cramp running from his rib up to his bicep, but he never complained. Not even a wince in your presence since he thought the soreness was worth it. He would rather die several times over than lose the image he saw - of your pillowy lips taking soft, steady breaths of air while you slept against his bare skin.

Smiling, he lets himself remember the way you looked when he first gifted it to you, a grin that spread to the apples of your cheeks and crinkled at your eyes plastered on your face. It wasn’t a perfect replica, but it looked close enough to the one you would both light on nightwatches in the prison - which he thinks was when he first realized he loved you. Daryl also remembers the first night he saw you use it, the memory so vivid in his mind that he felt like if he reached out, the soft fabric of your pajamas would welcome his touch.

He could picture it now, your back against the headboard, reading one of the books that littered the shelves he never touches. Your face bathed in the lantern’s hue while your eyes scanned the pages and drinking in every word of whatever you were holding. He plucked that book right out of your hands that night and pulled you onto his lap, kissing the pout off your face until you weren’t annoyed at him anymore, rendered down to just laughing against his lips.

Fuck, he couldn’t wait to get home and see you again.

Daryl curses under his breath as he fumbles a little with the doorknob, but the profanities are quickly replaced with a huff of accomplishment as he practically sprints to the bedroom, boots shucked off haphazardly at the front door. He skips every other stair with long strides, desperate to feel you in his arms. When he enters the bedroom, he places his crossbow on the dresser and is surprised to see the room as dark as it is, the only source of illumination being the moon as it streams through the windows. The bed is empty and the blankets are strewn to your side, but neither you nor your pajamas are anywhere in sight. Panic flies through him before he registers the unmistakable sounds of the shower running, and he scoffs at himself when he sees the dim orange light peeking from beneath the bathroom door.

Had you known how worried he was for a second, you would have laughed at him. He was already so protective of you before the two of you got together, but it was another level entirely when you both made it official. It wasn’t just losing you to the dead anymore - it was also losing you to other people. Daryl knew you could take care of yourself, he had seen you hold your own on runs in the prison and trips outside the Alexandrian gates, but, God, if anything happened to you he wouldn’t know what to do. Being apart from you once when the Governor attacked was already almost too much for him to handle, but the thought of losing you and having to be okay with the fact you were never going to love him again? That was something he never wanted to experience.

Leaning against the wall, he pulls off his belt and places it next to his crossbow, his vest following not long after. The mattress squeaks slightly when he makes his way over to it and lies down, his body feeling almost instant comfort at the feeling of something other than the hard leather of his bike’s seat. Days like this made him think that maybe you were right in jokingly telling him that his motorcycle was a dumb choice for long runs - his tailbone was probably shaped like a rectangle from how long he’d been sitting on his ass.

A few moments pass as he allows himself to indulge in some rest, eyes closing and already in the first stages of a slumber before he shoots up, pushing himself to the edge of the mattress and sitting straight. Fuck, he needed to shower. He had given you his word that he would. Each time before he fell asleep after a run, he’d said; and Daryl Dixon was not one to break promises. Especially not to you.

Getting off the bed, he sheds his shirt and throws the old fabric onto the dresser, grimacing at the knowledge he would have to scrub at the dried walker blood come morning. His socks are next, pulled off by impatient hands and left on the floor, not even given a second glance as he then pulls open a drawer and grabs a pair of boxers from his meager pile. The only thought in his mind being the feeling of smooth sheets and your body against his skin. He’d pick up his clothes after his shower - if he could even muster up enough energy to.

Step by step, he makes it a good few feet out of the bedroom before he realizes the other second floor bathroom doesn’t work. If his memory served him correct, there were some plumbing issues and, before anyone could buy replacements, the world became, well, what it is now. After all, it was the only reason you and Daryl even took this house - nobody else wanted to have only one shower and, after becoming a couple, sharing one between two people didn’t seem all that bad. At least, that’s what he thought until now. Groaning, he rubs his eyes in an attempt to rub out the fatigue in them before his whole body lights up with an idea. Maybe he could have some fun with this. And if you asked, he could always blame the missing pipe or whatever it was that the Alexandrians couldn’t fix.

Practically thrilled, he mentally pats himself on the back and rushes back to the bedroom. Tired? Not anymore. Daryl can’t be if he wants to fulfill what just popped into his mind. Years of hunting leave his footsteps nearly silent when he enters the bathroom, but he’s not exactly at a disadvantage in terms of noise. The rhythmic beating of water against the tiled floor drowns out the slight squeak of the door as well as the hitching of his breath when he notices the gap. With how the room was designed, just standing at the door led his gaze in a nearly direct line of sight to you, the shower curtain lying an inch or two from the wall and offering him a vision which he doesn’t hesitate to indulge in.

It’s not like he's never seen your body - far from it, actually - but there was something about you that made him hesitate when it came to stuff like this. You deserved sweet and soft, affectionate with declarations of love between his kisses, and while he enjoyed giving that to you, sometimes he wanted something different. Sometimes Daryl wanted to act on impulse - to feel a different type of desperation - and tonight, he wanted to act out one of his long-hidden fantasies. One that involved you on many, many occasions.

Truthfully, he couldn’t fucking stop thinking about it since Merle and his buddies showed him that damn VHS as a hormonal high schooler. He never really had a committed girlfriend or anything like that to ever even pluck up the courage to ask, but that fantasy remained like a phantom in the back of his mind, lying just outside his finger’s reach. One that haunts him late at night and renders him withering in his own palm. At least, that was the case. Because he has you now and how he managed that? He didn't know. But he felt confident enough around you and trusted you enough to pursue the desire in him.

A shiver courses through him, running along the tip of his spine when he considers the possibility you might like it as much as him - and if you did, maybe he would divulge to you more of these secrets he’s always kept hidden so well.

With silent movements, Daryl unbuttons and unzips his jeans as he leans against the door of the bathroom, just barely suppressing a groan when his fingers graze the zipper. He curses himself, chastising his sensitivity at the mere image of you doing something as mundane as taking a shower, but he knew it was an inevitable consequence. Ever since the prison, anything you did got him riled up - even just seeing you sitting on his motorcycle made his skin light up with goosebumps. Left in only his boxers, he steps out of the denim pooling at his feet and picks it up, throwing it haphazardly onto the cream coloured counter as he waits for you to take notice of his presence. The metal button clashes against the smooth marble of the vanity, and its noises sound across the room, your eyes opening and your fingers catching the edge of the plastic curtain as you dart your head out, searching for the source.

Your body tenses up, no doubt the experience of living out on the road for so long, but the fighting instinct drains from you the moment you see the affectionate boyish grin playing on Daryl’s lips. It’s barely visible as he stands so far from the meager light source, but it sends an eager smile onto your face. Like all those times he’s returned to you, you want to run to him, feel his arms wrap around you and inhale his scent as you plant those incessant kisses he ‘hated’ everywhere on his face, but that urge only serves to remind you that you’re standing naked in a shower and he’s just staring at you.

“Daryl! What the- I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”

Embarrassed, you speak, voice pitched higher than normal from the shock and excitement coursing through your body. However, he stays put, leaning against the door as he drags his eyes up the expanses of skin afforded to him; that is, until you pull the plastic curtain to cover yourself and run your free hand through your hair, tilting your head ever so slightly in order to urge his eyes to meet yours. You wait for his response as you brush the wet strands back from your face, but it never comes, him instead choosing to stride towards you and send you a pout before pulling petulantly at the shower curtain, trying to coax you to let go of it. Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, your grip loosens and he can barely hold back his excitement when you really do let go, tongue peeking out for just a second before he hooks his lip between his teeth.

Throughout your relationship with Daryl, you learned he loved looking at you, gawking at and admiring each angle, birthmark and curve until you felt heat flush through your body. Even before the two of you got together, his gaze stuck on you, longing and soft when you weren’t looking, only hardening if your eyes ever met his. Each time he saw you it was like he was still in disbelief that you were his, forever suspended in the wide look he had when you first confessed to him, hence why you didn’t pay much attention to his stare as you moved to pump out some shampoo. You didn’t really know why he was in the bathroom and he made no effort to tell you, but you were here to clean yourself. So that’s what you’ll do. He’ll probably leave sooner or later after making sure you weren’t hurt anywhere, anyways.

The way the light from the lantern bounced off your glistening skin made you look like some sort of goddess. Like an otherworldly being he shouldn’t be looking at. Or like a succubus, sinfully tantalizing, except you didn’t know what you were doing to him as you raked your hands through your hair again, bubbles forming already between your fingers as you scrubbed. Shit, this was way better than he expected, and he’s gladly taking in everything it was offering. Shifting his weight, he clenches and unclenches his fists - commanding himself to keep them at his sides - but then you turn around, allowing the water to rush down your back and his resolve withers away as he tries not to envy the path along which it’s falling.

Soon, the little space between the shower curtain and the ceramic tiling isn’t enough for him. He needs to feel you against him, his trembling hands and suffocating boxers egging him on like this was the first time he’s ever seen you naked. Clearing his throat, he urges himself to move, building his confidence which had seemed to dissipate nearly immediately as you locked eyes with him. What he wanted to do wasn’t sweet or affectionate, and even though he knew you would tell him if you didn’t like it, he just didn’t really want to risk even doing something you didn’t like in the first place.

“Sorry I, uh, I’ll go rinse out my hair somewhere else. Here, I’ll get out so you can-”

This was it. He had to act now or he’ll lose the opportunity. Running his thumb across his bottom lip, he watches as your hand reaches for the shower valve, but your movements and voice stop when Daryl shoots his dominant hand out, the calloused skin wrapping around your wrist in a warmth that makes you snap your gaze to his. While firm, he never applies enough force to hurt you - he knows what kind of men there were in this world, and he didn’t know what he would do if you ever thought of him like that. On the contrary, the feeling of his fingers around you is welcome, especially after what felt like years away from him. Giving him that same inquisitive look, except this time laced with a small smile, you can tell by the way he’s gnawing at his lip that he has something to say. Something that has him hesitating in a way you’ve never really seen him hesitate before, well, besides the first time you both kissed.

“Actually, mind if I join ya? ‘Cause ya see, the other shower don’t work and there’s this girl - my girl - she’s amazin’, but she doesn’t let me into our bed ‘til I shower and I’m damn tired.”

Oh.

Noticing the way you tense up slightly at his suggestion, he offers more, another reason to sway you into accepting as if the pursuit of his little fantasy would both begin and end with what drops from his lips. This definitely felt more daunting, like a much larger leap than him asking for permission to kiss you.

“I also heard showerin’ in pairs saves water.”

Oh.

Yeah, you get why he was hesitating now.

Honestly, Daryl really couldn’t give a fuck about the water he was talking about. What he had in his running mind had little to do with his environmental footprint and more to do with feeling your skin on his and the image of you coming undone for him. He hasn’t been home - been with you - in what felt like weeks, and he thought the generator could stand to work a little harder after running for one person for a few days. With a slight upwards twitch of his eyebrow, you can feel what little apprehension you had leave your body and his heart pounds in his ribcage with the anxiety of what’s to come. At least, he thinks that’s why its beating at 100 miles per hour.

It surely can’t be the residual hormonal anticipation or excitement from his youth.

“And who exactly did you hear that from?”

The slight joking edge to your voice causes him to smile, but it’s a mischievous one, one that holds promises and sends a shiver through your body. Daryl really had no clue what he did to you when he looked at you like that, his piercing blue gaze hitting you as his head tilts down almost sheepishly to the grip he has on you.

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a glint residing in them that draws you to look at nothing but him as he runs his thumb along the bone of your wrist. With a tilt of his head, he speaks, muttered as he gnaws once more at his lips and lets go of his hold.

“It matter?”

So nobody, probably.

The amusing thought sends you shaking your head ‘no’ as you smile, pulling open the plastic curtain in invitation while trying to suppress the idea that just popped into your head. Daryl just wants to shower and the only reason he wants to shower with you is to fulfill that promise he had made. Because he just wants to go to sleep. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, he’s hopeful that you would be watching him - and he’s fully prepared to make a show of stripping his last piece of fabric - but he’s sorely disappointed when he sees your eyes closed in an attempt to keep the bubbling shampoo from burning at them.

Why weren’t you looking at him? Was he not overt enough?

Wow, he really wasn’t very good with… whatever it is he’s trying to do, huh?

You shuffle forward from the steady stream and he takes that as his cue to step in, gladly placing his body just a few inches from yours and sighing in relief when the water hits his sore muscles. The sounds don’t go unnoticed by you, and your heart sinks a little with each suppressed groan of pain Daryl lets out. He always worked so hard for Alexandria, and they still treated him like somewhat of an outsider, questioning his true intentions with harsh looks when he even so much as walked too close to them. But they didn’t seem to mind him much when they were eating the animals he hunted, though, and that sent your blood boiling.

Turning around, you try not to let your gaze drop too low as you place your hands on his shoulders, frowning when you feel the stiff knots that have burrowed their way underneath his skin. Almost immediately, Daryl submits to your touch, an all too familiar warmth bubbling in his heart as he, too, turns and exposes his scar ridden skin to you, allowing your thumbs to rub circles into his upper back. He always loved this - the domesticity of these moments, the wordless communications, your love and affection directed solely at him - and he’s starting to forget the real reason he crashed your shower in the first place, lulled into relaxation under your nimble fingers and the water beating down on his overworked muscles.

“Does that feel better?”

Your question warrants a response landing somewhere between a grunt and a groan, but then you laugh and he swears his heart swells tenfold. He missed hearing that. Even if you got embarrassed of it sometimes, or hid it muffled behind the palms of your hands, he loved hearing it. Because you glowed when you did, your eyes crinkling up at the corners with a smile that almost always brought him to his knees, and perhaps almost selfishly, the knowledge that he doesn’t want to be away from you any longer dawns on him - as well as the knowledge that it’s inevitable that he has to leave again soon. Whether it be with Aaron or Rick, or some of the poor bastards that piss their pants whenever they see him.

When you stop your ministrations, he feels himself frowning as you tap him once with your thumbs, but he elates almost immediately when you speak promise of a better massage come morning. He’s slightly ashamed of the way his whole body lights up in goosebumps in anticipation, but it’s not unwarranted. Spending late mornings with you was something Daryl never knew how the hell he had lived so long without, and they were his favourite types of mornings by a long shot. Especially when it ended up more often than not with you on him or him on you, the both of you thankful for the misfit house you had all to yourselves and away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears.

“You’re too damn good to me.”

But he deserves it, you think to yourself, He deserved to be cared for like this.

His praise drips with a softness he didn’t even know he was capable of until you came along and Daryl turns back around to face you, smirking lopsided when he sees a shy smile worm its way onto your face. He had to have known what he was doing when he said stuff like that - especially when he used a voice like that. Seriously, how long had the two of you been together? It felt like an eternity already, but he could still make you flustered from a simple compliment. Shaking your head, you rest your wrists at the nape of his neck and use the leverage to pull his lips to yours, thumb swiping at the blood dried at his cheek and hoping the distraction of your tongue on his will keep him from teasing the warmth crawling up your neck.

A ‘hm?’ noise falls from him, small and surprised as his eyebrows raise for just a moment before his hands loop around your waist by instinct. When you pull away, another noise falls from Daryl, but this time it’s more disappointed than anything, and he chases your lips with his bottom one jutted out, taking full advantage of the strong arms he has wrapped around you. Holding you in place, his eyes plead with the now perfected ‘one more’ look you’re all too familiar with and you can’t bring yourself to deny him - he knows you can’t. Closing his eyes and puckering his lips as he waits patiently, he hums when you finally kiss him again, his satisfaction vibrating down to the hollow center of your collarbones before begrudgingly letting you go when you pull away again.

The water runs a brownish red from the dried walker blood being washed off his body and he scrubs furiously at his arms, trying to gauge the right move that will get your thighs shaking and your moans bouncing off the ceramic tiles he’s seen less than he’s willing to admit. Should he just… go for it? Just pull you against him and push you up against the walls he wants your noises to echo off of? No, he should come up with a better idea. You deserved a better idea.

Running his thumb along his jaw, Daryl sneaks furtive glances at your body - who the hell he was hiding them from, he didn’t know - and picks even more skin off his chapped lips as he watches you twist at your waist ever so slightly to comb through your hair. Swallowing down his spit like some teenager, he watches your shoulder blades protrude and disappear, intently following the droplets of water as they fall along your neck and down the muscles you’ve developed. He had to hand it to the sorry rich prick who had designed this house because, all things considered, they did a pretty good job; there was just enough spread of it between the two of you to pass as a decent shower. Even if you or him had to oddly angle yourselves to warm a cool patch of skin.

Reaching towards the shampoo bottle, his arm brushes against your waist almost feather-light, but it sends a shiver through you, rattling your ribs and making your cheeks flush all the same. Daryl lingers for a moment longer than you expect, his body leaning as he stretches over and you think he’s going to step forward - wrap you up in him - but dutifully, respectfully, anxiously he stays put. You want his touch, especially after nights alone with only the scent of him on his side of the bed to keep you company, and, having caught a quick glance at his straining boxers before he joined, there’s little room for doubt in your mind that he wants you. But still, it exists.

Your own arms begin to sore when he finally pulls away, his hands now raking through the hair he seemingly never wants to cut. Clearing your throat, you turn around, eyes screwed shut as you face Daryl, fearing for both the shampoo you’re washing out stinging at your eyes and the fact that if you looked at him, your gaze would probably drop. God, was all it took just a few days without him to have you craving him like this? The close proximity coupled with the knowledge he’s standing next to you naked makes you tense up before a shiver runs up your spine, your thoughts causing your breath to hitch for barely a second. Despite your efforts to suppress it, your subconscious prays that he picks up on the little noise. Please let him pick up on it.

And he does, ever observant as he connects the dots, the initially surprised look on his face melting into a small anticipatory smirk before he all but races to lather his hair in the coconut - or was it grapefruit? - scent. This was good. This was damn good.

He dares take a step forward, tentative, testing out the waters as if he was unsure of your desire, but he knows he can read you, and that he can do it well. This was when he should do something, right? The subtle confirmations - a tense, a shiver, a hitching breath - beg him to. Under the streaming shower, Daryl impatiently scrubs at his scalp, teeth hooked permanently atop his lip as he watches the rivulets of watered-down shampoo catch along your skin, his fingers and mouth itching to replicate its path down your neck to your chest. He knows that path well, and perhaps that’s what makes him even more envious.

Thank God for the fact you’ve closed your eyes because if anybody saw Daryl right now, they would take a step back, maybe even several thinking he was angry. How could they not when he was glaring at you as if you had done something horrible? It’s a surprise to him, the fact that it seemed like you really could not feel the burn of his stare, but then a thought pops into his lust-fogged brain. Maybe you did know. And maybe you were toying with him, playing coy and pushing him to a teetering edge, letting him taste the tension on his tongue until he could hold back no more.

To say he’s impatient is an understatement. He isn’t simply impatient, no, he’s impatient. He wants to do something. He wants you to do something, to initiate the flurry of hands and lips he’s craving so desperately and, seemingly blind to that triad of signals, he scrubs frantic at his hair in an attempt to control himself. As he rinses out the shampoo, he manages to cling onto what little restraint he had over his body until you turn back around. It was like the universe was egging him on, trying to break his resolve by showing him those dimples on your lower back, reminding him of the way he gripped them when he took you that night before he left - and it works. Jesus fucking Christ does it work.

Daryl’s body crowds you then, muscular arms wrapped around either side of your waist and rough hands palming at your chest before sliding down to your stomach, pulling you flush into him while he grinds his hips experimentally against your body. The feeling catches you off-guard, eyes widening in surprise as you let out a gasp into the steam of hot water and you grip harshly at his forearm, attempting to steady yourself from the sensations blossoming from your thighs. He can feel them tense and begin to snap closed against him, but you hear the corners of his mouth twitch upwards with satisfaction.

“What- what are you doing?”

Restless, his fingers travel downwards, hooking a strong thigh between your two legs as he ignores your question, them parting immediately to accommodate him. Daryl’s veins thrum with adrenaline, feeling the all too familiar effects of your warm skin when he realizes you’re letting him do this - enjoying him, even - your hands pawing at his to beg him to speed up, to bring you that nirvana he loves to be the reason for. Heat flushes your body, knowing full well what he’s capable of, but despite it, your skin erupts into goosebumps under his touch, desperate for more.

“What’s it look like ‘m doin’?”

Your neck comes under his affection next, his lips meeting it as he mumbles the words against your pulse point, tongue darting out when he feels it speed up. Almost methodically, Daryl finds the marks he’d left days prior, darkening them with unadulterated determination and rolling his hips against you once more. The heavy motion draws a whine from you, short and needy as your nails dig into his wrist and he all but basks in it. God, this felt good. How the hell had he spent so long without you? Without your skin under his? Everything about you feels like a fucking drug to him.

“D-Daryl- what would your girl say.”

He smiles against your neck, a warm pride bubbling in his chest when he hears the slight shake in your voice. It always got like this when he was touching you, and he liked to think it was the anticipation raking through your body. All the possibilities he could bring to you. He loved listening to your voice as it was, but hearing it quaver as it bounced off the ceramic walls, mingled perfectly with the rhythmic thrum of water crashing against the two of you? It was almost alarming how quickly it made his head spin.

Submitting to your urging, he lets you slide his hands down to the apex of your thighs, groaning guttural into your ear when he feels your hips lift and rut into his touch, unintentionally grinding your ass onto his cock when you push yourself back onto him. Hooking his chin over your shoulder, you hear his breaths as he digs his palm an inch below your pelvis, thick fingers gripping harsh at your inner thighs as he nudges his further between them. It feels like fucking magic, whatever he’s doing, and a plea tingles at your lips before you bite it down. Daryl’s never been this bold, and this is new territory for the two of you. Very new. So you were going to let him take his time - let him explore every inch of your skin as if he didn’t already have it memorized - despite the fact every cell in your body screams for you to sink down on him right here and now.

His grip disappears too quickly for your taste, but before you can even register the decadent sear that marks his blunt fingernails and calluses, his palm makes home just below your stomach and he swipes two fingers against you, spreading you for him but avoiding that bundle of nerves you want so desperately for him to touch. An expletive drops from Daryl’s lips as he gathers evidence of your arousal, and the sound of him makes you claw at his wrist, your hands still blanketing his as you try to angle him to do something other than coat his fingers and smear you across your inner thighs. Amused, his middle finger curls, breaching you just until his first joint before pulling away, relishing in the way you clench as if trying to keep him in you.

“Hm, I dunno. What do ya think she’d say? I think she likes it.”

You can hear the self-satisfied smirk on his face as he feels your body react and you can practically see it behind your closed eyelids. Daryl knows all your buttons, every single movement that renders you down to a puddle of mush, but he’s avoiding them. His jaw clenches and unclenches as you buck your hips up to try and meet the talented fingers only getting further and further and further from you. Skin warm from the streaming water and the sheer amount of lust coursing through him, his left arm snakes upward, resting just under your breasts before pulling your shoulders flush against him. His teeth sneak out from behind his lips, grazing against that spot that made your thighs shake the first time you slept with him, and you become putty in his hands.

A gasp of Daryl’s name falls before a staggered whimper erupts from your throat, his hands moving so fast and sure along your body as if he had molded you to his perfection. Everything hits you at the same time, his sharp canines right below your jaw bone before they melt into the caress of slightly chapped lips, the hand at your chest palming and tweaking and toying like there was no tomorrow, his fingers swirling, nudging at that tiny bundle of nerves you’ve been silently begging him to touch just once, and you can’t stop the noises falling from your lips. No matter how much you try, they escape.

“Or d’ya think she’s too busy moanin’ for me to tell me?”

Oh, that fucking prick.

To make it worse, you can’t even bring yourself to be angry for that long because his voice drops into that low, husky whisper that makes your knees go weak. Had Daryl not essentially smothered you against his body, you just know you would be a puddle, pliable and aching after just a few days away from him. A jolt of pleasure rockets through you the moment you realize what he wants - to make you as desperate as he is for this - and you know he knows exactly how to get it. Biting your lip, you trap your sounds in your throat just to spite him and you dig your fingers into his forearm, seeking in any way to find another outlet for all the compounding stimulation he just keeps giving you.

Your heartbeat drums through your ears and you can barely register the growl against your skin, but the vibration of it is inescapable. He feels the crescent shapes already forming from your nails on his tan skin and he pulls his face from you, breath fanning your ear in preparation to express how disappointed he is at you robbing him of your noises, but you beat him to it, freeing the words that burn at your tongue to knock him off his high-horse. Daryl was never a very confident man, but fuck if it does not make your skin tingle.

“I think she’d tell you to- to shut up.”

The rebuke is futile, a stutter brought on by the push and pull of his deft fingers and he laughs. Daryl chuckles into your skin before everything from him detaches, only for him to grab at your waist and spin you around to face him, adjusting his hold to crowd you once more. Your back hits the ceramic tiles, a sharp whine escaping you at the contrasting cold, and you can see that smirk you had envisioned on his face when you open your eyes, taking in every inch of the swept back hair now falling into his face as he tilts his forehead slowly to yours. Running your non-dominant hand up from his arm to his face, you push the strands back, smiling slightly at the way he melts as his eyelids flutter shut for just a second. As much as he said he hated how damn soft you made him, he sought after your touch, your hands much too intoxicating for him to deny them.

You glow a ring of delicate orange from the lantern shining behind him, the light bouncing off your glistening skin and those sparkling damn eyes that shine with unguarded affection despite your ‘annoyance’ from just moments ago. Creating shadows over your body with his broad figure as he blankets you, Daryl nearly groans with delight at the image - the realization that you look impossibly better with the warm hue making his head spin. And when he remembers that you’re his to love? He tries to hide just how much it makes his mind run, but his voice comes spilling out without much thought, everything about you shrinking the filter between his brain and mouth that he so tenaciously keeps on during the day.

“That so? ‘Cause if I do then I can’t tell ‘er how much I missed her. Or what I was thinkin’ when I thought about ‘er at night.”

Daryl was already so worked up at the thought of doing this to you, you didn’t even need to actually do anything to him to have him throbbing against your stomach, begging to be touched after days of only imagined scenarios to keep him company. So you indulge him, tracing your dominant hand down the V-line of his pelvis and biting your tongue when his hips snap into your grasp, his grip at your waist tightening as he tries to still himself. He wants you to touch him, to let you give him what you want to give him and he tries his damndest to control himself, instead using his words to try and rile you up.

“Nothin’ I do feels as good as her. Nothin’ I’ve tried’s ever been close.”

Your whole body shivers at the insinuation, the ceramic sandwiching you to Daryl ceasing to feel as cold as it did when he first pushed you against it. He feels like centuries have passed when your hand finally wraps around him, running your fingers in a stroke that has him groaning and nearly keeling over you with how much that simple damn action makes heat pool in the pit of his stomach. Everything about this feels heightened, the steam of the shower failing in comparison to the heat pinging between the two of you. His eyes seek yours, cock twitching and catapulting him much farther to his climax than he would like to admit when he sees you watching your grasp, lips parted ever so slightly, pleading with him to lay his on them.

Heart thrumming in his chest, another groan of an expletive followed by your name drops from Daryl before his hips jerk forward, stuttering into your grip with no real rhythm as he pushes a rough kiss onto your mouth. When you let out a little surprised squeal, he pulls himself back immediately, as if shocked by his own lack of self-control, but your hand never stops, and your face leans closer towards his, the feeling of his ruined sounds vibrating along your tongue making you chase him. This must have been how he felt when he had you whimpering for him on those late nights and early mornings. No wonder you both loved them so much.

Twisting your other hand from the side of his neck to his nape, you pull him to you with equal fervor, the stroking of his cock forgotten in favour of his chapped lips turning into something more sinful with each movement of his talented mouth. His fingers begin to wander now, eagerly grasping at the two dimples at your lower back before his palms find all too familiar territory kneading and massaging your ass. Knees nearly buckling, you remember the leaking heaviness twitching in your grip and you nudge him between your thighs, your legs spreading just a bit wider as you inch him closer and closer and closer to where you need it most.

“N-no, wait- I gotta-“

His hands shoot downwards to still yours and he pulls his hips from you, his statement stuttered through a sharp, shaky breath. Whining, you nearly beg for him before you realize he succeeded in what he set out to do - and he was only gone four days, your subconscious chastises. Your head is swimming in desperation for him as you shake it, hair whipping into your face and onto the wall while you vehemently disagree with both his words and your own internal mocking. All coherent thoughts leave your mind, washed away in the stream of water running down your body and you come to the conclusion that you don’t fucking care if he would poke fun at you come morning, you need to feel him.

“Daryl you don’t need to- you can just- I can-“

You don’t need to keep-

You can just-

I can-

God, you sounded pathetic, your voice barely breaking above breathy through the heavy beating of water, and he loves it, it’s enticing him; he could die right now and he would feel nothing but satisfaction. Daryl was never a very confident man - well, with people at least - but around you, he felt wanted. Not just in moments like this when you craved him so debaucherously, but in moments when you would pull close to him while you were sleeping or hug him from the back. Just giving him your affection so freely and not expecting any back. It made his heart damn near break everytime he had to leave. Adjusting his grip on you, he digs his knee into the wall, perching you on either side of him and leaning closer and closer to your burning skin.

“Gotta get ya ready. Jus’- jus’ be a good girl an’ be patient. Don’t want ya limpin’ tomorrow ”

Despite his words, Daryl can’t help but think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It wouldn’t be so bad to linger beside you the whole day, a constant reminder of the real reason you needed him to get you things, or why you would grip his arm as a piss poor substitute for a crutch when the two of you walked along the street. Nobody else would know - at least, neither of you would ever tell - but the satisfied puff of his chest and the fact he stands just a little bit prouder might make them connect the dots. That, and the lovebites that creep out from underneath the neckline of your shirt which, coincidentally, only seemed to darken after he came back. Nah, he thinks to himself, it wouldn’t be so damn bad.

“I thought you were tired.”

There’s a hint of concern in your voice, peeking out from between the teasing and he grunts, acknowledging your words before his hands wrap around your wrists and urges them to loop around his neck. He knows he needs to do this, the action a silent beg for you to just relax and let him treat you right in the way you know he always will. With his neck flush in the crooks of your elbows, you tug him, pulling his face to yours and raking your fingers through his wet hair.

“Never too tired for you.”

His stubble scrapes against your nose as he mumbles his confession between kisses down from your forehead, a delicious burn leaving a trail that makes your heart beat impossibly faster between your ribs. Grip falling to your waist, Daryl’s rough fingers inch towards the apex of your thighs, but he moves them so fucking slow you're tempted to just reach down and push them into you like you intended to do with his cock. Before you can entertain the idea any longer, he catches your lips in a clash of tongue and teeth and knowingly smirks against your lips. He’s dedicated, attentive, and what kind of man would have the heart to deny you? He would do anything for you, all you had to do was ask.

Daryl eagerly swallows the moan you let out against his lips when his middle finger curls into you, the vibrations spreading along his tongue and consuming him from the inside out. Your thighs spread wider for him, welcoming him - no, begging him - for more and it riles him up almost comically well. Whether it was intentional or not, he would never know. He pulls his face away just inches, breath heavy against your parted lips before he sends you a small smile, an underlying mischief peeking out from the tiniest sliver of teeth he exposes. Leaning more of his weight onto his knee, his left hand travels around your waist to your ass, digging his dull fingernails into the flesh and pulling towards him, bringing your hips off the cold ceramic and snaking that arm into the curve he’s just created.

Before you can even brace yourself, he pushes a second finger in, curling languid with accelerating speed, revelling in the heat you bring him with an audible groan that reverberates off the shower walls. Already so desperate, the feeling nearly makes your legs shake under your own weight, but Daryl’s prepared - he could keep you up with the hand he has splayed across your upper back and he’s secretly proud of it. His mouth returns to you again, tongue surging to meet yours as if just the taste of your kiss would satisfy his desire to taste what’s beginning to coat down his palm.

It doesn’t, but it’s a damn good substitute.

Nails scratching pathetically at his scalp, your lungs beg for oxygen, but you ignore your body’s pleading for as long as you can. You need Daryl. Just him. Just him. His fingers are ardent, all of them pushing and pulling and toying and touching you in a way that skyrockets you into an overwhelming nirvana and it feels good. It feels so good to be with him again, surrounded by his scent and his heat, that you start to entertain the thought of begging for him. You try to do just that, but every sound coming from your lips is only absorbed greedily by his before you pull him away by his hair, taking large gulps of oxygen as he does the same.

Not even a second passes before you’re grinding down into his palm with pleas falling into the steam of the shower, all your words going straight down to his cock. Gritting his teeth, he growls at your desperation, lips shooting down along your collarbone before catching the skin between teeth. He has your whole body memorized, proof of that fact littered across your body in the form of lovebites, memories seared into your mind of his everything and it’s almost too much to handle. Almost. But you need more. And Daryl knows, much too perceptive in all senses of the word.

His left arm snakes up to your neck, the nape of it secured in a grip firm enough to pull your hips down onto his muscular thigh, spreading you and rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves with his rough skin. Something between a swear and Daryl’s name chokes through your throat and he curls his two fingers just enough for you to repeat the sound, the movement perhaps pulling your hips forwards toward him. With the way you grind down so readily on him, it wasn’t easy to tell whether the roll of your lower body was from his fingers or the lust running through your veins. A satisfied smirk worms its way onto his face that you want to kiss off, but your head is stuck against the ceramic tiling by his hand tugging securely on your hair. Not enough to hurt you. Never enough to hurt you.

He can feel it now, the fact that you’re close, and it only makes him work harder. Maybe it was selfish of him, expediting your pleasure so he can finally seek out his, but he’s damn near shaking with the thought of finally being able to be with you in one of the ways he always wants to be. Sometimes Daryl felt like a teenager with all this certain enthusiasm he can’t seem to control with you around, but you had never complained - you made him feel alive in all the best ways - and he thanked whoever was pulling the strings in his favour for bringing him to you. Circling his thigh, he pushes everything he can up into you, the pressure making you feel like you’re floating. Fingers carding through his hair, your whole body tightens around him in a silent plea, and he's pretty sure he would have to be just about the biggest idiot in existence to ever deny you.

“Give it to me. C’mon, give it to me. Ya wanted my cock didn’t ya? Jus’ give it to me an’ I’ll make ya feel even better.”

Give it to me.

Daryl’s voice makes your mind swim, the growl rough and dangerous like everyone always tends to think he is, and incoherence drops from your lips, echoing against the confines of the walls as his breath fans your ear. Rutting your hips up to his hand, the knot in your abdomen snaps, the proclamation of it escaping you in a broken moan of his name. He can feel your body’s reactions before you start to get those familiar sparking waves of pleasure, the clench of you around him growing sporadic as he continues to unravel you with his teeth gritted, the unrelenting precision of his fingers sending you clawing and tugging at his scalp with no regard of your strength for just a moment.

His groan at the sensations edges out the haze of your climax and you immediately detach from him, pulling your body back from his so abruptly that he slips from you. Scrunching his nose in disappointment, his large hands cling at the back of your thighs, bringing your chest and forehead to his as if he couldn’t stand being apart from you for even just a few seconds.

“Sorry- sorry if that hurt I didn’t mean to-”

Face inches from yours, he shakes his head and cuts you off with a series of hungry pecks. One to your sinfully soft lips, then to the corner of your mouth, then one to your jawbone, devouring your apology right then and there as he overtakes your senses.

“‘S alright. It felt good.”

Then he kisses you again, urgent all the same, but he only pushes a firm brush of his mouth against yours. The movement is like a signature, as if it were his name scribbled easily along at the bottom of a letter - a soft possession that you wear along the tingles of your lips. It makes you claw at him again, tugging on the sides of his hips to pull him flush against you, fingernails digging crescent shapes he wants to see come morning, and your apprehension all but dissolves into the hot water of the shower. You were his, he was yours and in his mind, there was nothing he wanted more than for you to show him just what he does to you.

“Anythin’ ya do feels good.”

It’s stupid, how you could be in the middle of something so intimate and a simple compliment from him could leave you flushed from the neck upwards, but he loves it. He loves the little whimper you let out at his words and he smiles that lopsided boyish grin that makes your heart skip a beat. When he smiles at you like that, it makes you feel like the only person in the entire world. No walkers, no Alexandrians, no runs or patients at the infirmary to steal you or him away from the other. There was no one except you and Daryl - and it’s been too damn long since it was like this.

Body flush against yours, he snakes a hand down between his legs and the other grips at your thigh, hooking it around his torso and begging with a roll of his hips for you to rest your leg there. Each breath he takes sends a jolt of pleasure blossoming against your ribs, his skin rubbing against your chest so deliciously it makes your mouth fall open in silent pants of air. You don’t know when you closed your eyes, but they open when Daryl says your name, broken by a curse that falls somewhere after the first letter. He looks good like this - eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched.

Gritting his teeth, his mouth can barely form a coherent sentence with how much excitement is coursing through him, and he’s trying his fucking best to hold back from slamming into you until you give him a nod or a pull or anything, but then something in him breaks. The feeling of just having you so damn close worms its way into his brain and he takes himself in his fist, dragging along to gather the remnants of your climax and notches himself, all the while groaning from the heat emanating off you.

“‘S this okay? Need t’know if this’s okay.”

Slurred speech. It was so uncharacteristic of the Daryl everyone else knew - the Daryl who was so sure of himself, the Daryl who wore a permanent scowl on his face, the Daryl who was so mysterious, never speaking anything above a growl - and you think you could have laughed had it not been for the fact the words themselves dig up memories of all the times he had said them to you before. Every cell in your body lights up, high alert now that he’s in you, but he’s not moving. He’s not inching into you or filling you in the only way he can and you push your hips towards him, greedy movements making you swallow more of him. Taking a sharp breath, he lets you rut against him, but still, he doesn’t fucking move.

“God, Daryl- yes. Yes, it’s okay. More- more than okay.”

Sometimes you hated him, and then hated how stupid you felt for hating him.

He waits for your words. He always does. Without fail he checks on you before he slides into you. He never wants to take because he always wants to be good for you, but sometimes you wish he would. Sometimes you wish he would just take from you - take everything you have. There is nothing in this world that is not shared between the two of you. Daryl’s wholly yours as you are wholly his.

Curses drop from his lips, your name thrown in once or twice as if he’s reminding himself you’re real as he feels you around him. They fly out of his mouth like the bolts from his crossbow and ricochet off every wall as he begins to move, slow at first, experimental maybe with his hand secure against your thigh, then he starts building and building into a heavy, sinful rhythm. Shakily, Daryl groans, the breath he lets out tendrilling at your chin before he sucks frantically at your bottom lip, your noises meeting his as they hit the ceramic wall.

He wants to live in this moment forever; immortalize the way you look and sound on one of those VHSes, write the damn date on it, and hide it away for his and your eyes only so it’s rewatchable and revisitable and reliveable. It's not enough to just sear you into his memory like he’s done so many times before because you’re damn near perfect. Like you were made for him - for him to give you everything he wants to give to you.

“Fuck- fuck- you feel better’n I remembered. How’s‘at possible?”

The words escape him, rushing out as if you’ve put a spell on him, and they almost escape you, too, your pulse beating in your ears. But he’s so close to you, growling out through gritted teeth into your ear and pushing his lips to the curve of your jawbone like they need to be on your skin. He pulls his body away, chest leaving yours, and you pull at his waist to bring him back, whining lewd for him and only him, shameless and betraying the blush you feel as you register his stutters, but he doesn’t. Instead, Daryl smiles, that same damn grin with his teeth hooked along his bottom lip and eyes hooded as he watches every change in expression. You groan, half in the way he rolls his pelvis just enough to rub against that small bundle of nerves that beg for him, and half in annoyance at the way that lascivious expression seems to make every electron in you buzz.

“Shut- shut up.”

He lets out a sharp breath, a singular amused ‘ha’ following it, cock hardening and twitching even more at the fact he’s making you blush like that first night he had lavished every inch of your body with his lips - like you didn’t deserve every single damn word escaping from him. Leaning his weight against his left forearm that lies on the side of your head, Daryl brings his face to yours, nipping at your lips and seeking your tongue before he starts speaking.

“You should see yourself like this, y’know. Fuckin’ perfect for me.”

For a man who only ever growls and mutters, he certainly liked to talk a lot when he was pounding into you the way only he knows how and you’re just so damn unbelievable for him. For him. You’re his to love and it sparks something within in him that makes his tongue fucking run and his hips speed up involuntarily. Hell, you probably heard more of his voice in this shower tryst than the whole first nightwatch you had with him. You’re not even sure the water is beating down onto you anymore because the heat of your body makes the shower pale in comparison.

The sweat accumulating on his back and chest and everywhere is washed away almost immediately as it forms and you’re grasping for something to hold onto. Clawing, you wrap both your arms under and around his shoulders and scratch desperately at his back, grinding up against him and making jumbled noises of moans and Daryl’s name when he drags against that spot he knows so well. It’s skin on skin, the ceramic wall ceasing to feel cold as you screw your eyes shut and let yourself mount and mount with each roll of his hips. You hear a nearly feral growl, feeling your leg being hiked up higher by the elbow hooked underneath your thigh, and a loud noise breaks from your throat when his thumb swipes where his cock meets you.

“C’mon, we ain’t got all night.”

You’re close and he knows it. It was like he was rubbing it in your face, the fact he could make you like this - how quickly he could reduce you into the incoherent, ruined state you always seemed to become for him. Attentive. He’s always attentive. You can tell by the way he’s memorized everything that makes you shake and capitalizes on them, thrusts coupled with the tight circles pulling you closer and closer to that precipice of pleasure, but he says those words anyways, hoping to get a reaction from you. Daryl’s not an impatient lover - he would spend hours buried in you if you let him - but he’s so damn close and perhaps almost selfishly, he wants to watch you succumb first. He wants to watch the water race down your body as you writhe for him against the wall, and he wants that to send him over the edge.

“Then- then do better, Daryl.”

You bite back, your breath grazing against his neck and a wet heat rushes through him, making him groan nearly wrecked as his hair tickles your cheek. Reaching behind his muscular body to his shoulder blades, one of his large hands is more than enough to wrap around both of your wrists and he takes them in his grasp, moving them until they’re secure against the ceramic wall behind you. You’re warm for him. Pliable for him despite the veil of distaste in your voice and he can’t get enough of it.

Daryl’s so fucking happy you bite back.

His hips stop and you let out an almost childish cry, but he stays buried deep, filling you up to the brim as the water beats down on the both of you and holding you against the tiles by the weight he’s pressing from where you meld to him. His face is so close to your ear now. So much so that you can feel the breath when he speaks, a dangerous growl resounding through your body before his teeth graze along your neck.

“Hm? I ain’t never heard a complaint from you be- before. That a- fuck- are ya challengin’ me?”

An expletive drops from Daryl’s lips when you clench around him, no doubt from the sudden crash of your mounting pleasure, and he pushes impossibly further into you, firmly pinning you down until he knows you won’t be able to move anymore. He wants to show you he can stop at any moment, that he can make you work for it, but you both know he’ll give in. Maybe you didn’t know the extent of which you have him wrapped around your finger, but if you even knew half of it, you would know he would never stop. Not when he was so desperate for you he can barely think of anything except the way you look and feel. At least, not unless you wanted him to.

“Are you g-gonna take it up?”

Although your mouth ceases there, your brain runs, pleas tickling at the tip of your tongue, but you can barely manage to form the meager few syllables that have already escaped you. Eyebrows knotted at your forehead, you try desperately to coax more movement from him - a whine, a whimper, a thrash of your pinned hands flattened by his strong grip - but Daryl’s so damn still and it’s driving you crazy. When your body settles for only ragged breathing and shaking thighs, he takes it as his cue to lean down, lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s so affectionate you forget that, just moments ago, he was relentlessly pounding into you.

“Don’t know. Seems like you might be wantin’ it more’n me.”

Smiling against your mouth, he pulls away just enough to speak. A challenge in his words so obvious to you that you try in vain to buck your hips to his. If he didn’t sound so good and look so good and feel so damn good, you would have denied it, but you’re strung so taut, so close to the peak, that you can barely form a retort. A stupid, handsome smirk rests on his lips as he waits. Patient. Like it wasn’t affecting him, being buried in you. He’s just waiting for your words - goading you as he watches from underneath his lashes.

“Daryl, I swear to God if you stop right-“

The insincere threat is enough to spur him into action. Partly due to the fact you sound so desperate and ruined for him, and partly because he just needs to feel you again - he would lay you down and take you the way you deserved on the bed come morning, but right now was a different matter entirely. Swearing, his smirk drops in favour of a scowl, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he snaps up into you in quick succession. The hand at your thigh is roaming now, massaging and palming wherever his nimble fingers can worm their way onto before it splays across your ass, using the grip to pull your body impossibly closer to his. Daryl would have made you beg for him - he wanted to - but he can’t stop himself. Not when you look so pretty up against the wall and you’re taking his cock so well.

“Been gone four days an’ you’re already so damn needy.”

Whether that statement was directed at you or himself, you would never know.

An abashed whimper escapes through you and you want to deny it, perhaps just to see what would happen, but you can’t. You can’t because Daryl’s right. He knows he is, and you know he is. You thrash your arms so you can touch him, feel his skin underneath your fingers, but his grip around your wrists keeps you firm against the ceramic tiling - just enough to keep you pinned so he can admire the way you squirm for him. Grunts and groans of your name escape from him with each thrust, the feeling of your body melded to his much too intoxicating for him to keep his mouth shut.

“What, you embarrassed now? Wanna cover your mouth? Keep them noises from me when you’re soundin’ so damn pretty? Ya better not be thinkin’ about it. ‘Cause ya damn well ain’t gotta.”

Daryl tilts his head, eyes squinting in faux-concern and mocking you as his hips relentlessly hit up into yours, pushing out the breath from your lungs which escape in tantalizing gasps with each roll. You’re so close, and the only thing you can do is moan at the sound of his rough voice, the coil tightening in your abdomen because of his determined thrusts. You just need a little more - just a little more - and he reads you like a book.

Without warning, the hand pinning your wrists frees itself, his finger pinpointing back between your thighs with an unadulterated eagerness to pull your climax from you and you damn near cry out Daryl’s name as you claw at his back. It’s like second nature to him, the way he can touch you and make you crumble for him. Practice does make perfect, and he’s always been a persistent man.

“Ya sure as hell weren’t when you were bein’ a brat.”

Everything he’s doing to you is almost effortless. It makes your legs shake and without warning, your thighs tense up, a white hot surge of pleasure erupting from the base of your stomach and you gasp a broken moan of Daryl’s name as you clutch at his neck in an effort to keep yourself from collapsing onto him. He holds you close, chest pushed up to yours and breathing ruined into your ear as he works you through your climax with dextrous fingers, chasing his own as his rhythm begins to falter. Sporadic thrusts meet each flutter of your clenching warmth. until he can’t hold out anymore.

Screwing his eyes shut, a stuttered chanting of profanities mixed in perfectly with pleads of your name fan out from his mouth and he pulls out, rubbing himself harsh against your thigh before your fingers wrap around his cock. Fuck, Daryl nearly crumbles right then and there, a ragged groan rushing from him before his hips jerk upwards to your touch - nothing could even compare to it and he thinks nothing could ever come close. Nothing except you. Pulsing in your grasp, both of his rough hands dig into either of your thighs and he stills, teeth gritted as the evidence of his pleasure hits your stomach before being washed away in the steady stream of water.

Satisfied, you smile and lean towards him, your head coming off the ceramic wall, and he parts his lips immediately for your tongue, but you pull away after giving him a quick peck. Scrunching his nose, Daryl pats lightly at your thigh for your attention and seeks your lips once more, moving his with the same amount of overwhelming love and affection he always does. It makes you feel warm inside, like you were the only one in the world for him. And you were. At least, in his mind you were.

He releases the grip he has on your thigh and slowly lowers it, his hand still ghosting close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off his body. Both legs still shaking slightly, your foot hits the floor of the shower and you lean your weight on it, tentative and experimentally at first before you overestimate its security and half-fall-half-stumble into him. Daryl notices, of course he does, and he swallows down the pride welling in his chest as his sure grasp steadies you against his body.

“Hey, hey, I got ya. Jus’- jus’- I got ya.”

By instinct, he speaks, the rumble of his chest against yours making your heart well up with the familiar fondness you always experience when it comes to him. Daryl wasn’t a man of many words even though you had managed to break him out of his shell a little - at least with you - but there was no doubt in your mind that he genuinely and wholeheartedly cared about you. In his eyes, you had strung the stars into the sky and he always treated you with a softness he never thought himself capable of.

With one hand on his waist and one on his shoulder, you use Daryl as a crutch, continuing to lean your weight on your legs until they cease to shake. When you can stand on your own, albeit with wobbly legs, you link your fingers in both of his and meet his protective gaze - alert as if prepared to catch you again if your body gave any type of signal. He smiles when he sees the expression on your face and brings your knuckles to his lips, pressing a firm kiss onto the back of each of your hands before letting go and reaching for the bar of soap you two had ignored in exchange for something more riveting.

“Here, let me- I’ll help ya wash up.”

It meets your shoulder and it’s cold as he trails it down, lathering your right arm before moving across your chest and to your left. Smiling at his concern, you hum, nodding your head and content at the feeling of his tenderness as he continues to dutifully run the suds down along your body. Daryl unabashedly goes about copping a feel or two when his hand just so happens to fall onto your chest or your ass, a boyish grin meeting your quirked eyebrow when you question his intentions with a look. If you actually, truly cared to ask him, he would say he was helping you wash your body and making sure he was doing it to the best of his ability - quality assurance or some shit like that.

He helps you lather, too, calloused fingers rubbing off dead skin much better than yours could as he focuses the showerhead on him. You laugh when he pulls you into him, water streaming down your body along with his hands as the bubbles wash off your body and you run the bar of soap along the broad expanse of his shoulders, doing your fair share of subtle… touching too. Daryl all but melts into your caring hands, revelling in the way your attention is solely focused on him before he grunts, as if signalling you to look at him. When you do, his hands loop around your waist, head tilted to one side as he gingerly rubs those little shapes he always love to draw onto your skin.

“Y’alright? Was, uh, was that alright, I mean.”

Allowing you to maneuver him under the shower, he begrudgingly lets go of you to rinse off all the soap and feels genuinely clean for the first time in what felt like days. Smiling, you respond, saluting playfully and laying a small peck onto the corner of his lips before you spin around, pulling the curtain open just enough to reach for the towel lying just a few inches away on the towel rack but still keeping the warmth from the water in.

“Yes, sir!”

His cock twitches at the name, betraying the slur of fatigue in his voice and he sighs at himself, turning the shower knob off and opening the curtain fully, reaching for his own towel that hangs next to yours. He always did feel like a teenager when it came to you, and usually he didn’t mind it, but he really was tired before this and his back is killing him, so maybe another time.

Drying your body, you turn your head towards him and smile before making quick work of your wet hair and stepping out, pulling your underwear on from where you left it on the bathroom counter. It’s a small smile, one fully innocent and only ever reserved for him, but that look makes your words replay in his mind. A shudder runs through him as he tries to ease a smile onto his face too, admiring the scene of you for a moment. It’s domesticity, showing him a homelife he could actually feel loved and safe in; reminding Daryl something like that actually existed for him.

He imagines meeting you in a different world, wooing you like you deserved through coffee dates and Radiohead concerts, not through killing reanimated corpses or guarding Alexandria’s walls together, and his whole body calms down.

But then you pull on a shirt that’s much too big for you - one of his shirts that you said you liked wearing because it smelled like him - and he swallows his spit as if he hadn’t seen you naked just moments ago, a familiar shudder running through him again. Definitely another time. Near future, preferably.

Hopefully.

“You coming?”

Your voice breaks Daryl out of his daydream and he grunts an answer, smirking at the joke that just popped into his head as he replies with a curt ‘I just did’ and catches the pair of boxers you throw at him in response. Rolling your eyes, you comb your fingers through your hair and try to dry it as much as you can with the towel before reaching for your toothbrush. He follows suit, dressed in only his boxers as he brushes his teeth and shakes his wet hair at you like a dog, causing you to whip water at him off your fingertips after you wash off the excess toothpaste dribbling at the corners of your mouth. Smiling internally, he spits, tasting mint on his tongue that he'd much rather replace with the taste of your lips, even though he knows full well you’re just as minty as he is.

“Thank you.”

Meeting his eye in the mirror, you give him a confused look, eyebrows raised in an expression he thought was much too cute on your face for your own good. Your hands don’t still as you continue to rub out the water in your hair, determined not to go to bed with it too wet and risking it to clump up and dry tangled.

“For lettin’ me, uh, do that.”

His naturally gravelly voice clears up, turning slightly more timid than you were used to and you notice the shift in his behaviour. He avoids your gaze, waiting for your response as he fiddles with the lantern he now has in his grasp, unsure of what you would say and you decide your hair is dry enough. Hanging your towel back onto the rack next to his, you grab his free hand and lead the two of you back towards the bed, smiling affectionately as you turn off the lightsource and place it onto the nightstand. Wide-eyed, Daryl stares at you, as if waiting for you to tell him to leave - that you hated what he had done - but you break him from that train of thought as you slip under the covers and welcome him to join you.

Relief washes over him and he happily climbs in, groaning at the feeling of your body next to his and he succumbs to the comfort of the mattress. Pushing yourself into his side, his arms automatically open for you and he swears he could cry when you brush your thumb against his cheekbone and lean up to him.

“Anything for you.”

He feels the words as you whisper them just inches away from his lips, and he relishes in them when you pull away from the quick peck and dig your face into your pillow, closing your eyes and just looking so at peace. You’re so close to him Daryl’s in awe and he can’t help but stare. Wanting to hold onto the feeling of his skin a little longer, your finger draws a little heart over where his beats in his chest and you speak again, voice so warm and sincere.

“I’m glad you’re home.”

Home. That’s what it is to him now, too.

“Glad ‘m home too.”

With a final kiss laid on your forehead, Daryl echoes your statement and pulls your body closer into his. A small smile tugs at his lips and his arm slings lazily at your waist before he, too, closes his eyes, allowing himself to fall into the lull of sleep.

It was good to be back.

Back to a home he had made with you.

──── ⋙

@daryldixonluv @pulplorrd @fuseburner @hells-mistress @maria--grey-blog @marylimlp @pncnsc @tinachristeen @hail-yourselves @whimsicallymad @just-always-tired @phoenixblack89

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kuroopaisen · 4 years ago

Text

tiny love || v

➵ as tooru’s younger sister, falling in love with iwaizumi hajime was easy. iwaizumi ultimately decided to rebuff you. but that was a year ago - things are different now. and you have other things to worry about. things like moving halfway across the world for university; and moving in with the very boy who’d broken your heart.

warnings: f!reader

wc: 4.3k

m.list | ch. 4 ↞ ch. 5↠ ch. 6

Life moved too quickly.

That was the only logical conclusion you could come to after the past few weeks. One minute you’re finding out you’ve got a scholarship to a university overseas, the next you’re spending as much time with your friends as you can without burning out, and then suddenly you’re standing at the airport, suitcase in hand and loved ones lined up in front of you like this is some fantasy RPG and you’re about to go into the final battle.

Your family had said goodbye before, but that didn’t seem to make it any easier. You’re the youngest, after all. The baby.

“Remember to call if you need anything, okay?” Your mother said, smoothing a hand over your hair.

“I know, mum,” you smiled. “I love you.”

She sighed, pulling you into a hug. She said nothing more, letting the slight tremble in her arms say all that was in her heart.

Your father was next, ruffling your hair with a certain melancholy. “Be good, you hear?” He chastised. “Don’t talk to boys.”

You rolled your eyes, grinning. “Dad…”

“I’m just saying, there are more important things to focus on,” he nodded sagely. “And don’t go causing any trouble.”

“I won’t,” you nodded. “Promise.”

Kaori was next, a certain mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Send me a photo of every pigeon you come across,” Kaori said.

You grinned at her. “Really?”

“Mhm,” she nodded. “That way I’ll know you’re alive every day.”

You stuck your tongue out at her. “That’s a terrible plan.”

“Is it so wrong for me to want to check up on my little sister?” She teased. “I just want to make sure you won’t forget about me.”

“I won’t,” you laughed. “I’m sure you won’t let me.”

“Too right,” she grinned.

She gave you one good, tight hug. She, more than anyone else in your family, seemed to be the best at swallowing this whole situation. It was a relief to know that someone would be there to console your parents.

Finally, Amaya. She pouted at you, pulling you into a rough hug.

“Don’t forget to text me, okay?” Amaya mumbled, her arms tight around her shoulders. “Or I’ll knife you.”

“I know,” you chuckled, squeezing your grip on her waist. “I’ll keep you updated on everything, don’t worry.”

“You better,” she huffed, pulling away slowly.

Once, you might’ve dreamed of going to the same university together. But life had a funny way of taking your plans and crumbling them to dust in the palm of its hand.

But you were sure that no matter what, your friendship would hold steadfast. Amaya wasn’t the type of person to let things die so easily.

You couldn’t delay any longer.

As you walked through the gate, you wondered if Tooru had felt like this. If he’d been hounded by this unrelenting fear, doubt, and anxiety. If he’d also felt like throwing up. If he had, he’d covered it up well.

That thought didn’t do much to quell the lurching in your stomach.

Tokyo had once felt unbelievably far away. But California? That was a different beast.

✧ ✧ ✧

After a twenty-hour plane ride and two stop offs later, you’d come to the conclusion that airports, in fact, were the most unholy places known to man. Whose fault was it that airports were labyrinthine hellholes which were impossible to navigate?

By the grace of God, or perhaps as an apology for the godforsaken pilgrimage that was your flight, you managed to find the luggage pickup area with relative ease. By the time you managed to haul your suitcase off the baggage carousel you were ready to take a nap for the next three months.

You sighed, looking up at the clock hung high on the wall. 5:21 AM. Ew.

You felt a touch of pity for all the workers rostered on at such an ungodly hour.

Oh, and whoever was responsible for escorting you to your new ‘home’.

As you trundled through that godforsaken place, suitcase trailing behind you and carry-on slung over your shoulder, you were too tired to think and too tired to worry about who might be waiting for you.

That clawing anxiety had gripped you for the first hour or so of your flight, but it’d been completely replaced with other worries.

There’s only fiberglass separating you and an absurdly high fall… what happens if the plane goes down? What happens if one of the wings caught fire? What if one of the doors inexplicably ripped off mid-flight and sucked you out through a vacuum?

Regardless, you’d landed with your soul very much attached to your body – although that in itself presented you with a host of new problems.

You glared at the signs pointing in every conceivable direction, praying that your English was good enough to decrypt this mess for you.

Arrivals. That sounded right.

You dragged your feet in that direction with a big yawn, decorum be damned.

A thin crowd was gathered at the gate, waiting to greet the ragtag group of travellers who filtered through. Mothers, daughters, beloved friends, lovers…

You scanned the crowd with narrowed eyes and the hope that you’d catch sight of some familiarity.

Oh.

There was your name on a placard, written in hiragana.

And holding it…

Shit.

Iwaizumi Hajime. He was glancing around the airport, seemingly a little bleary-eyed.

Your flight-or-fight response was well and truly activated. Had he really shown up at the airport at five in the morning just to pick you up?

Oh no. Oh God. That’s… not what you were expecting. Sure, you’d been told you’d be “picked up” from the airport, but you’d just expected some taxi service or something. Your mum had sorted that all out anyway – she’d insisted that you let her do that, at least, to give her some peace of mind.

But she hadn’t told you it would be Iwaizumi picking you up. Were you supposed to have assumed that? Fuck.

With the inside of your cheek trapped between your teeth and a sinking feeling in your gut, you dragged yourself towards him.

Each step you took towards him just seemed to make him look even hotter. He was wearing a loose white shirt, but you could tell that he was built. Even more built than he’d been when he left. He hadn’t done his hair in that spiky Godzilla style he used to, and it’s longer than when you’d last seen him. He’s gotten a tan, too – an unfairly flattering golden tan.

And he was wearing a pair of fucking grey sweatpants.

I’m going to die, you thought. It’s official. I am the world’s biggest idiot, and Iwaizumi Hajime will be the cause of my death via cardiac arrest.

Was it too presumptuous to text your family your goodbyes?

He caught sight of you.

You made eye contact for the first time in a year.

What do I do? Your thought, cursing yourself out for being so… so like this.

But Iwaizumi just waved at you with a small smile on his face.

You closed the distance between the two of you with trepidation, scouring your mind for what to say to him.

Hi? How are you? It’s good to see you?

None of those felt quite right. You were much too tired for this. And he was much too hot—

“Hey,” he smiled, dropping his hand to his side.

“Hi,” you nodded, resisting the urge to bow. Should you bow? He is your senior… but this isn’t Japan. But that didn’t change the rules of etiquette, did it?

“I can carry that, if you need,” he said, nodding towards your luggage.

Under normal circumstances, you probably would have refused on the basis of pride alone. But you’d just flown halfway around the world, and you were doing your best not to drool at the bloody Adonis standing before you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, handing him your carry-on. You managed to finish the hand off without your fingers brushing, much to your relief.

Iwaizumi observed you for a second, a touch of concern in his eyes. “You okay?”

“Just tired,” you smiled at him weakly. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a lie.

“Understandably,” he chuckled, pulling a set of keys out of his pocket.

You frowned as he jangled them around one finger. “You drive?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I got my license back in Japan. Managed to transfer it over.”

“Huh,” you said. When had he learned to drive? That’d been happening right next door and you’d had no idea?

“You ready?” He asked, looking at you over his shoulder as he turned around.

You nodded, tugging on the handle on your suitcase.

The two of you made your way to his car, which turned out to be a dingy-looking thing cobbled together with dull navy metal and rubber.

You said nothing as you packed the luggage into the boot, Iwaizumi doing most of the grunt work. Part of you felt bad, but you knew full-well that he had more strength in his right middle finger than you could ever dream of having.

He strolled around to your side of the car before you had time to remember which side of the road Americans drove on.

“Here you go,” he said. The asshole just had to open your door for you too, didn’t he?

You nodded your thanks, settling into your seat with a little more frustration than feasible.

He’d slipped into the driver’s seat as you finished buckling yourself in, and before you had time to take much of anything in, he was backing out of his parking lot.

You watched him from the corner of your eye.

He looked so… casual, doing this. The Iwaizumi you knew had never been behind the wheel of a car. And yet now, he’s moving like it’s second nature.

How much had you missed? So much must’ve happened while you were out of contact.

“Hey, uh… Iwaizumi?” You mumbled, clenching your fists in your lap.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for picking me up,” you said, chewing on your cheek. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“No problem,” he chuckled.

You felt like you should say something else. But you’re weren’t sure what. He seemed relatively calm, given the situation. Saying the wrong thing could potentially fuck that up.

“How was your flight?” He asked, gently making his way through the car park.

“Uh…” Was there a polite word for ‘awful’? “It was fine.” You shrugged. “I made it here in one piece, so…”

Iwaizumi chuckled. The sound made your stomach flip.

You leant back in your chair, closing your eyes with a sigh. You didn’t know how far away your apartment was. Fifteen minutes? Ten? An hour?

Your brain reeled with potential small-talk topics. There might be a lot of time to fill.

“Take a nap if you need to,” Iwaizumi said.

“Thanks,” you hummed.

Maybe he was aware that he was giving you an out. Maybe he had no idea.

But you were more than happy to take it regardless.

✧ ✧ ✧

A pre-made bed was waiting for you in your room. You blinked at it a few times, the brain-fog of a long flight still clouding your mind.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Iwaizumi said, leaning against your doorframe. “I just got you some sheets because I didn’t think you’ have the energy to sort all that out today.”

You’re going to cry. Cry, and then die.

“Do you need help unpacking?” He asked.

You turned around sharply at those words, waving your hands about. “Oh no, no… I’m fine.”

He looked at you for a moment longer, as if he was appraising you. He simply nodded. “Well, call out if you need me.”

“Yep!” You offered him an unbearably stretched smile.

“Alright,” he said. With that, he was gone.

You sighed, turning to your suitcase. It was laid on the floor, unopened.

Shit. This really was a big move, wasn’t it?

And, you’d moved in with Iwaizumi. Something you’d never expected – not like this, anyway.

Shaking that thought out of your head, you kneeled in front of your suitcase. Something about it felt more reverent than it had any right to. You unzipped it slowly, pushing back the battered red lid to reveal your belongings.

You bit the inside of your cheek, starting with the first layer. You’d packed your pyjamas on the top – a move you’d like to thank younger you for.

As you placed it in your lap, you gazed at the rest of your belongings crammed into your suitcase.

You hadn’t brought all that much. Mostly clothes that you thought would be appropriate for the Californian weather, a few knick-knacks and keepsakes that you felt particularly attached to, a handful of your favourite books, your polaroid camera…

So much had been left behind. You didn’t mind that, for the most part; but it still felt like you were abandoning a part of yourself. Everything you’d accumulated over the past nineteen years, just…

Maybe your parents would hold onto all your things. But it wouldn’t be remiss for them to throw them away.

It’s all just part of growing up. That’s what you told yourself – you had to change, move on and get over it.

If Tooru could do it, you could to. You had to.

But now it felt like his shadow was hanging over you darker than ever. Part of your own journey had been dictated by him; if he hadn’t recommended you live with Iwaizumi, where would you be?

What was Iwaizumi even like now? Was he a good person? He’d been very nice and polite ever since you’d seen him at the airport, but…

Was he trying to be warm? Or was he keeping you at an arm’s length? Could your ‘friendship’ ever recover from… that?

You swallowed, running a hand over one of your dresses.

Honestly, you just wanted to go to sleep.

You didn’t want to leave the room because that meant you might bump into Iwaizumi. You didn’t want to unpack because you had the sneaking suspicion that it was going to make you feel like crying. You didn’t want to call anyone because you knew you didn’t have the energy to do so.

There was only one thing to do, then.

You managed to drag yourself towards your bed, hoisting yourself onto it with a grunt. You curled up on top of the sheets, wrapping your arms around your knees.

The ache in your eyes didn’t subside as your closed them, but there was nothing else to do.

Attempting to rest was better than nothing.

✧ ✧ ✧

A knock on your door.

You bolted upright, startled out of your uneasy slumber.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi’s voice was distant but distinctive.

“Hm?” You didn’t trust your own voice to hold up.

“You okay?”

You bit your lip. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine.”

It wasn’t your best lie,

A long pause followed.

“No, you’re not.” His voice was soft, gentle. Not like what you’d expected.

Although, you weren’t even sure what that was.

“Can I come in?” He asked.

“Uh…” You swallowed roughly, crossing your legs. “Yeah. Sure.”

He needed no more prompting, letting himself in and leaning himself against the wall.

There was good distance between the two of you. You’re grateful for it.

“What’s wrong?” He looked genuinely concerned. Why, you didn’t know.

Nor did you know if you should actually tell him. There was admittedly no reason to; at this point in your life, he was just a roommate.

“It’s just…” You sighed, your mouth moving before your brain. “It’s a big move, you know? I don’t think I’m ready for it.”

You’d had this conversation over and over again, both with Tooru and with Amaya. I’m not ready. I’m not ready. I’m not ready. It was the one thought you couldn’t escape, no matter how hard you tried to justify this whole thing to yourself.

“You’re more ready than you know,” he said softly. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “I guess…”

“It’s not easy, but you can do it.” His tone was resolute, not harsh but firm. It almost makes you feel like he’s right. Almost.

“And…” He swallowed, his gaze flicking to the ground. “I’ll look out for you. You’re not alone.”

You weren’t quite sure what those words made you feel.

“Thank you, Iwaizumi.” Your voice is quiet enough to go unheard, but he smiled. It was only a little smile – one someone who hadn’t known him for so long might’ve missed – but it was genuine. You couldn’t tell if that was a good omen or a grim portent.

“You shouldn’t be thinking about this tonight,” he nodded, standing up straight. “You’re already exhausted, so you’ll only make it harder for yourself.”

You pouted at him, much to your own surprise. Unfortunately, he was right.

“Give me a moment,” he said suddenly, disappearing.

You sighed, lying back on your bed and closing your eyes.

It felt like you’d entered the Twilight Zone.

Maybe things would improve when you started uni. Then you’d have something else to think about that wasn’t just ‘oh God, I moved in with Iwaizumi Hajime and that was stupid, dumb, and a colossal mistake.’

Your instincts were begging you to book a flight and go straight home to Japan. Surely, you might be able to get into some university – sure, you missed the entrance exams, but perhaps…

Were you already chickening out? Tooru had moved halfway across the world entirely on his own, but he’d never once thought about turning back. And yet here you were, lying in your bed feeling like you were about to disintegrate just because your roommate happened to be someone you used to have feelings for.

God, that was pathetic. It was only day one.

“Here you go.”

You flinched, sitting up suddenly.

Iwaizumi stood at the side of your bed, holding a mug out to you. You hadn’t even heard him come in.

“Oh, thanks,” you nodded. As you took it from him, you peeked at the tea bag.

Your favourite. He’d made you your favourite tea. You took a tentative sip.

Shit.

“I hope you still like it that way,” he said, a touch of pink to his cheeks.

It reminded you of winter back home.

“I do.” You looked up at him, giving him a genuine smile.

He smiled right back, his face softening in that rare but stunning way you remembered.

You were a little proud of yourself for keeping it together.

“I, ah…” Iwaizumi cleared his throat, taking a few slow steps away from the bed. “I’m going to go to bed. I’ve got practice early tomorrow, so…”

You nodded.

As you watched him leave, closing your bedroom door on the way, you wondered if you should’ve asked him what his training was for.

But you just sipped your tea.

This really was going to be difficult, wasn’t it?

✧ ✧ ✧

By the time you woke up in the morning, Iwaizumi was out. That was something of a relief. Iwaizumi not being around meant you could explore the apartment without the fear of bumping into him.

So, you took the opportunity, sneaking out of your room and taking stock of the layout of your apartment. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, a living room attached to a kitchen… it wasn’t big, but you weren’t about to complain.

It’s quite a change from the family home you grew up in, but the change is a little exciting. It’s certainly liveable, and you know your parents are grateful for the fact rent was affordable enough.

The apartment was well-tended and clean. You weren’t sure if he’d cleaned it up before you’d arrived – which wasn’t unlikely – or if he usually kept it this neat – which also wasn’t unlikely.

A few photos hung on the wall, some with people you knew, some you didn’t. There were a few photos of the Seijoh team, exhibiting various degrees of chaos. Some others included people that you recognized as his friends from high school, and there were several of himself, Tooru, Hanamaki and Matsukawa.

Other photos were a total mystery, though. Probably friends from university, a mix of men and women you didn’t recognize.

You didn’t let yourself look at them for too long; your mind was concocting too many questions, too many narratives that made your gut feel all funny.

The only other thing of particular interest was the television and the DVD stand next to it, stuffed full of both Japanese and English movies. Most people streamed these days, but Iwaizumi had always been a bit of a traditionalist when it came to technology.

Regardless, the small size of the apartment meant there wasn’t all that much to explore.

You slunk back to your room after a close inspection of the bathroom, which you decreed as ‘clean enough’.

By the time you passed through the threshold of your room, a quiet blanket of exhaustion settling over you. Jetlag really was a piece of shit.

You tossed yourself on your bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Maybe you could call someone. But you weren’t sure how the time zones lined up. Your parents wouldn’t be happy with you if you woke them up at some ungodly hour, and Kaori needed the rest. Amaya might be up, but you didn’t want to stress her out…

Tooru was an option. He wasn’t that far away in the grand scheme of things, and he might’ve been able to offer some advice…

But he was probably busy. And you’d already bothered him enough.

God, why were you so frustrated? Was it exhaustion? Anxiety? How difficult it was to wrap your head around the situation? You just wanted to sleep for a week.

Before you knew it, your eyes fluttered closed, and you drifted into an uneasy nap.

✧ ✧ ✧

A firm, steady knock cut through your barely conscious mind.

You blinked rapidly, frowning. Shit, did you have another nap? That better not become a habit.

With a groan (and a great deal of strain) you managed to get off your bed, dragging yourself to your door.

You opened it with trepidation.

Iwaizumi stood on the other side with a glass of water in one hand and a bowl of yakisoba with chopsticks poking out of it in the other.

“Uh,” he cleared his throat, eyes flicking to the ground, “you didn’t come out to eat, and I didn’t see any dishes in the sink, so…”

“Ah,” you swallowed. “Right.”

You hadn’t eaten yet. All day.

“Thanks,” you nodded, taking the bowl from him. To his credit, it looked good; plenty of vegetables, and nothing seemed to be burnt. That might be a low bar, but you digressed.

“Would you like to eat at the table?” He asked.

You resisted the urge to stare at him.

Eat at the table? Like… like… a family? Did roommates do that?

“Sure,” you nodded. You’re not really sure why – some fear of hurting his feelings, probably.

But you tottered after him, hoping to God that your stomach would settle enough to allow you to eat.

Iwaizumi settled himself down at the table, his seat already prepared with a glass of water, a bowl, and a pair of chopsticks.

He set the glass of water in his hand down opposite from him, in what seemed to be your designated spot.

You slipped yourself into the seat, taking note of just how uncomfortable it was. Affordability over comfort – a student mantra, apparently.

“How was practice?” You asked. You just wanted to fill the silence. Once upon a time, silence between the two of you wouldn’t have made you feel like crawling out of your own skin.

“It was good,” he nodded. He didn’t seem like he was trying to be terse of anything – Iwaizumi was just a man of succinct, short sentences.

“I’m assuming it’s volleyball?”

He chuckled. “Yeah.”

You took a small bite of your yakisoba. It reminded you of home. “Are you still a wing spiker?” You asked.

“Mhm,” Iwaizumi nodded. “Although there’s a fair bit of competition for the spot.”

“Really?” You asked. You couldn’t imagine a volleyball team where Iwaizumi wasn’t heralded as a magnificent player.

“A lotta guys wanna be the ace,” he grinned.

You smiled. That made sense.

Silence fell over the two of you for a moment as you both focused on your meals. Your appetite was voracious, now – you hadn’t even realised how hungry you were until you’d started eating.

“Did you leave the apartment today?” Iwaizumi asked, making you jump.

“Ah, no,” you shook your head. “I was worried about getting lost.”

“Fair.”

Another silence settled over you, a more pensive expression taking over Iwaizumi’s face.

He was completely unreadable. Probably because you knew nothing about him. Not anymore.

“Would you like me to show you around tomorrow?” He asked.

You blinked at him, completely blindsided.

“We could get lunch,” he offered.

You stared at him for a long moment, trying to process the muddle of feelings inside you.

What on earth was going on? Perhaps he was just reaching out a friendly hand. And, chances were, he felt some kind of duty to protect you.

“Sure,” you smiled. “Sounds great.”

You weren’t stupid enough to push away the only ally you had in this strange new world. Hopefully, other friends would come. But for now, it was just you and Iwaizumi in this little apartment, trying to make this arrangement work.

You had to make it work.

You’d find a way.

✧ ✧ ✧

a/n: aaaa thank you for your support so far! sorry this one’s a bit choppy, but i think you’ll enjoy chapter 6 (i hope sfdlkdfj)

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu x reader #tiny love

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cocosstories · 3 years ago

Text

Pete Davidson One Shot

you and Pete are friends with benefits. Constantly hooking up and hanging out but he hasn’t made an effort to make things official and you’re to proud to ask. You get preggers and tell him he has to either get it together or get lost.

Three years ago you met Pete and became instant friends. You hung out all the time, so much so most people assumed you were dating. You both always laughed off the accusations saying, 'its not like that' or 'we are just friends'. No one really ever believed you, more often than not coming back with, 'not yet' or 'it'll happen someday'.

Everything changed one night though. You and Pete were hanging out in his basement like always. Nothing too exciting going on just another night of flipping through the channels and never agreeing on what to watch.

After a while, you came across 'Friends With Benefits' and stop.

"This movie is such crap. Like it wasn't obvious the movie was going to end with them getting together. Just proving everyone's bullshit point that guys and girls can't just be friends and hook up. I mean why do you have to make it into some romance?"

The whole premise of the movie bothered you. You never believed that just because you had sex with a guy, you would end up head over heels in love with him.

"So what you're saying is if we were to start up a friends with benefits thing and fuck right now, you wouldn't end up falling for me?"

You roll your eyes at him.

"You wish."

He chuckles.

"Care to test that theory?"

You smack his shoulder.

"Are you crazy? I am not having sex with you Pete!"

"What? Afraid you'll fall in love me?"

He gives you his best sweet and innocent look.

"No. Afraid you'd fall in love with me."

You say matter of factly.

Pete scoffs.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. So damn sure of yourself huh?"

He says before grabbing a tickling you as you scream and laugh.

"Pete! Stop! I hate being tickled!"

Before long, he has you pinned down on the couch, hovering over you.

He stops tickling you and looks at you for a moment before leaning down and kissing you.

You were about to protest until he deepens the kiss and you give in.

That was one year ago and you and Pete have been hooking up randomly since. Both swearing there were no romantic feelings on either side.

You are now sitting in your bathroom on the edge of the tub waiting for the timer to go off. Your hands are shaking and you feel more nauseous than before.

After what feels like an eternity, the timer dings and you look at the little white stick on your sink.

"Fuck."

The pink plus sign was like a punch to the gut, knocking all of the air out of your lungs.

Your mind was racing, how were you going to tell Pete? What was he going to say? How were you two going to raise a baby?

You are brought out of your thoughts when you hear a knock on your front door.

Sighing, you pull yourself up and go to the front door.

"Hey, Pete"

You open the door and let him in.

"Hey, Y/N, you good?"

Pete asks noticing you are a bit pale.

You go to answer him but are hit with a wave of nausea and run to the bathroom.

You finish throwing up and turn towards the sink finally realizing Pete had followed you into the bathroom.

He stands silently staring down at the pregnancy test in his hands.

"Pete I can explain..."

"You're pregnant?"

Pete looks up at you as you nod silently.

"Shit."

He says before walking out of the bathroom, going out on the fire escape and lighting up a joint.

You follow him out a minute later.

"That's all you have to say? I'm pregnant, you say shit and go smoke a joint? Are you serious?"

You get a little heated when you find him.

"What am I supposed to say Y/N? I just found out! Give me a fucking minute to process it Jesus fucking Christ!"

He yells back, upsetting you even more.

"A minute to get high as shit and block out reality maybe. God Pete, you need to grow the hell up! You can't just smoke weed and fuck around all the time! I don't want to raise this kid alone but I don't want to have take care of two kids. You need to make a choice are you going to grow up, act your age and be a father or walk away and continue wasting your life? You can't have it both ways."

Your words were harsh but true and Pete knew it. He just wasn't ready to admit it yet. He comes back in from the fire escape and heads right for the front door.

"Where are you going?"

You ask as he reaches for the door knob.

"I need some time to think."

Was all he said before walking out your front door.

It had been three months since you found out you were pregnant. Three months since Pete found out and three months since he walked out your front door saying he needed to think.

You had nearly come to terms with the fact that you were going to be a single mom and raise your baby alone.

It hadn't been easy, your morning sickness was horrible, most of the time you were unable to get out of bed.

You also missed Pete like crazy. Sure, you were mad at him for leaving the way he did and not even calling but he was still your best friend.

Its around midnight and you climb into bed, exhausted from a busy day at work.

Just as you are about to drift off, there is a knock at your door. You get up to answer it, wondering who the hell could be here so late.

You open it to find Pete.

"Hey."

He says with a small smile. You notice he looks alot healthier than the last time you saw him.

"Hey? After three months all you can say is hey?"

The anger boils up in you as you speak.

"Look, Y/N, I'm sorry. I know its been a while but I took what you said to heart. I knew that if I wanted to be in your life, in our kids life I needed to do something to prove to you that I could change. I haven't smoked since that night. I got rid of all of it."

You tear up as he speaks.

"Really?"

Pete nods.

"Of course. Y/N, I want to be a part of this. I want my kid to know its father. I just knew that until I cleaned up my act, I wasn't ready for it but now I am."

Your hand moves down to your small but evident baby bump, Pete's eyes following your movement.

"Wow, can I um...would it be ok if I uh..."

He stutters causing you to smile and take his hand, placing it on your bulging belly.

"There's really a baby in there. Were going to have a son or daughter."

He says in amazement.

"Daughter actually."

You correct him and his eyes widen.

"Its a girl?"

Pete asks as you nod.

"So, can we start over and maybe try to be a family?"

You take his hand and lead him into your bedroom, pulling him into your bed and cuddling up with him before giving your answer.

"Yes, Pete. We can."

#Pete Davidson One Shot #Pete Davidson x reader #Pete Davidson #Cocos stories

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qqueenofhades · 3 years ago

Note

So tired of EU/US block pushing ahead with threats and empty promises as if they are selling Brexit and there won't be consequences for their words while pumping Ukraine with weapons. So tired of Russia pretending everything is just a reaction to west and not a plan they had drawn up like 10 years ago immediately after Georgia... I am now stuck in Moscow, unable to leave because EU decided to quickly rebuild the iron curtain and stop all flights as if Putin gives a single toss about citizens, his assets being frozen, SWIFT or any of the oligarchs that the west thinks can influence him. Anyone like that and is still alive and hasn't run away only exists because Putin lets them. If the whole oligarchy implodes he won't even blink.

Now because US and EU wanted to keep expanding their weapons resale market via NATO while economically abusing the eastern bloc and P really wanted to pretend to be an emperor for his final legacy, we have a nuclear war on the doorstep and I can't see my family.

Yeah. Yeah, pretty much this. I 100% agree, as you say, that the EU closing its airspace to Russian flights is a cosmetic way to look tough that will have absolutely zero impact on Putin, inordinately punishes ordinary citizens who want to get the hell out of there, and doesn't even slow down the actual military invasion that they're supposed to be responding to. I wish there was something I could do to help you and everyone else stuck in this mess, but we are all just one person at a time, and that really, really sucks. Today is one of the days when you could be excused for concluding that humanity has in fact learned absolutely nothing at all from its history, and that is... hard.

As I have said in my other posts, it is also absolutely true that the west's favorite narrative of punishing the oligarchs/Russian citizens to influence Kremlin policy is wrong, since Putin only answers to himself and has seemingly lost the plot entirely. I hope/trust that there are diplomatic and military back channels in place, similar to what had to happen with China during the Trump administration, for Russian/EU/US officials to talk to each other and delay any actual attempt to deploy nukes before the order (God absolutely forbid) would be given. This is not as bad as the early-60s nuclear scares, especially the Cuban Missile Crisis, but it is still pretty damn bad and sobering, and I don't blame anyone in the least for being scared.

Anyway, yeah, this whole crisis is the culmination of decades of post-Cold War hubris, neo-imperialism, and policy failure on the part of the West and an outright regression to old-school paranoid totalitarianism on the part of Russia, and... as you point out, there is a lot of blame to go around, on every side, and it is one of those days that makes you just want to ask what, truly, has been the point of all of history. Please know that I am thinking of you and everyone else suffering because of this, and I wish there was more I could do. Check in every so often and let me know if you're okay, if you can. We all have to look after each other.

❤❤❤

#anonymous #ask #russia ukraine war

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hidden-otaku-stuff · 4 years ago

Text

Reunion

Reunion Word count: 2k Genre: fluff! Pairing: Terushima x reader

A/N: I just KNOW Terushima has a fluffy, soft side despite his flirtatious/fuckboy vibe and I am ALL FOR IT 🥵 (also whoops my daichi bias is showing 🥴)

You tapped your foot anxiously. Kiyoko said that she was going to go back and double-check to see whether or not the team had forgotten anything, but she’s been gone for ten minutes now and you hoped that she wasn’t in trouble. You sighed, looking at Daichi besides you. “I’m going to go check on her,” you throw over your shoulder, as you jog back into the stadium, your black track jacket blowing with the wind. You make your way back up to the second level where you had eaten your lunch only to see Kiyoko being interrogated by two volleyball players. Your eyes widened, focusing on her discomfort as you stormed over, “Hey, leave her alone! She already said she wasn’t going to give you her number, so buzz off.” You glared at both guys, as they took a step back from Kiyoko, startled by your sudden appearance.

“Oh, you guys have two beautiful managers!” Bobata gasped, turning towards you. “You’ve got some fire, can I get your number instead?” He offered, stepping closer to you. You ignored him, looking back at Kiyoko.

“Kiyoko-san, let’s go, everyone’s waiting for us.” You grasped her by the hand, leading her away. The blonde stared at the back of your track jacket, struck to silence.

Bobata turned back to him, noticing his peculiar facial expression. “Yuuji? What’s up?”

“Oh nothing, just a blast from the past,” Terushima chuckled, as they made their way back out.

You and Kiyoko make your way back to your team. “Are you okay?” You glance at her, releasing her hand.

“Yes, thank you (Y/N)-chan, they were very persistent.” You nod at her, giving her a small smile as you run into Hinata in the hallway running towards you.

“I’m so sorry, that’s my lunchbox!” Hinata yelled, bowing in apology several times.

“It’s a cute wrap.”

“That’s my sister’s,” Hinata defended quickly, shaking his head in denial as you both laugh.

“Whatever you say Hinata,” you nod at him. “Let’s head back before the rest of the team starts to worry.” You were about to leave the hall when the two trouble-makers from earlier happened to step into the hall.

“Oi, Karasuno! You defeated the 6’7” guy!” Hinata turned back looking at them. You tilted your head at him, looking closely as he looked somewhat familiar. The boys have a brief discussion about his volleyball team and the taller, blonde-haired one patted Hinata on the head before they walked away.

“Did you find anything left behind?”

“Yes, a cutely wrapped--” Kiyoko began before Hinata cut her off yelling about it. You just shook your head, laughing at them before you headed back to the school for the meeting. Sitting at the front next to Kiyoko, the sounds of heavy breathing filled the air from the exhausted players. You glanced back, seeing the other manager, Yachi, sitting in the back with Kageyama and Hinata. “Is everything okay?” You turned to face the eldest manager, grey eyes piercing yours.

A nod as a sigh left your lips. “The games today went well, but it’s only going to get harder from here on out.”

“We’ve worked too hard to be stopped,” she assured you. “They’ve grown and faced harder. I think they’ll make it.”

“I think so too.”

****

Kiyoko called your name, coming to stand beside you as you handed water bottles to the second years. You turned, raising an eyebrow at her. “Do you know their captain?” She tilted her head in the direction of Johzenji, your eyes trailing in that direction.

(E/C) eyes narrowed as you considered it, hand on your hips. “I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

“He’s been staring at you ever since warm-ups began.”

You shrugged, turning back to look at your boys. They had begun with serving drills. “Maybe he’s thinking about yesterday? He seems like the persistent type.” A ball flew towards you, and your hands automatically reacted, grabbing it mid-air. A yellow jersey made its way towards you.

“Nice catch, (Y/N)!” You smiled at the praise from Tanaka, turning towards the opposing player.

“Is this punishment for interrupting you yesterday?” Speak of the devil, and he’ll appear. The player in question had raced up to you, smirking as he reached out for the ball.

“Not at all, just a misplaced serve. Though, you can make-up for that by giving me your number,” he winked.

“Maybe, but that depends on you.”

Eyebrows quipped up, a flicker of shock crossed his face as he composed himself, a hand propped against his hip. “On me?”

You nodded. “If I like what I see on the court, maybe I’ll consider giving you my number.” You poked your tongue out at him, as a hand rested on your shoulder. You turned to see Daichi standing there. “Well hello there Cap’n!”

“Is there any trouble here, (Y/N)-chan?”

You waved your hand, “none at all, Daichi. We were just having a...chat.” A brilliant smile left your face as you turned back to the other player. “Good luck today, you’ll need it!”

“Oh don’t worry, I plan on winning.” With another smirk, he made his way back to the other court, one hand resting behind his head while the other held the ball against his hip.

You turned back towards Daichi, “you better win today Sawamura,” you threatened teasingly.

He chuckled, holding his arms out. “What about my good luck hug?” You threw your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly as his hands settled on your waist.

“I’ll do you one better,” you whispered, pressing your lips against his cheek. You pulled away, ignoring the red tint that crossed his face and missing the widened eyes and dropped jaw of the opponent. “Now you definitely have to win!” You cheered, heading back towards the rest of the group as you wish everyone good luck. Daichi smiled at your retreating back, walking towards the rest of the third-years. You joined Yachi next to the door leading out, about to head up. Only Kiyoko was allowed to remain on the floor.

“Karasuno, fight!” Daichi yelled, rallying the boys as they cheered in unison.

“C’mon Yachi, let’s go to the stands. This seems like it’ll be an interesting game.”

****

Interesting was saying the least. Johzenji had kept Karasuno on their toes, and it made some semblance of sense as to why they’d made it so far in the last tournament. The other team seemed to be a jumbled mess kept together by how all extremely athletic they were. You couldn’t help but eye the captain as he played. The team was disorganized, but they all played so passionately you couldn’t help the smile that came onto your face. Of course, your boys were all playing extremely well too. “Damn,” you muttered under your breath as the game progressed.

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)-san?” You glanced to your side at Yachi.

“I’m not sure why, but I really feel like I’ve seen that boy before,” you replied, tapping on your chin. The whistle blew as a time-out took place.

“The scary looking one?” Her eyes widened as you both looked at the Johzenji captain. “You mean before today?”

“Well, we met yesterday here too, but yes, before this tournament.” Your eyes widened as you remembered. “Oh my god.”

“What?”

“This just got even more interesting.”

“(Y/N)-chan! You can’t come over and not play with me!” A volleyball dropped to your feet as you looked up from your book. Your best friend, Tersuhima Yuuji stood in front of you, hands on his hips as he glared at the book. “Stop reading, I wanna spend time with you,” he pouted.

“We have to do the summer reading!” You argued, smiling at him. “Otherwise we’ll get in trouble with sensei when school starts.”

“We still have a whole month to do that,” he protested, squatting down so that he was eye-level with you.

“Maybe some of us want to get our work done early so that we don’t cram it all the week before school starts,” you taunt. The male pouted, crossing his arms.

His face brightened as he realized something. “How about you take a break and just toss me a few balls? I’ll leave you alone after!” His lip quivered as he turned his puppy-eyes to you.

“Promise?” You held your hand out, pinky extended. His face split into a grin as he hooked his pinkie with yours. Tucking the bookmark in, you placed the book bag into the bag as you stood. Crossing the yard to the makeshift volleyball net, you bounced the ball off the ground for a few times before you spun it in your hands. “Only a few times,” you threatened, glaring at the boy playfully before you tossed the ball. He leapt, spiking it down and as he landed, he spun to reveal a bright grin.

Another ball tossed up. “Kids, come in for lunch!”

“Just a minute Mom!” He whirled back at you. “One more toss,” he begged and you complied.

Mrs. Terushima stood in the door, a wide smile on her face. Mr. Terushima joined her, peering over her shoulder. “Now hurry up and wash your hands.” She laughed as both of you ran into the kitchen. He shoved you out of the way as he tried to wash his hands first. “One of these days, you’ll end up together,” she teased, “and I can’t wait for you to officially join the family, (Y/N).”

“Eww, Mom we’re just friends!” Yuuji protested. Your nose wrinkled.

“Yeah, that’d be like dating my brother!”

Mrs. Terushima just laughed. “You say that now, but mark my words, things will change!”

Months later...

“Do you have to go?”

You sighed, leaning against the desk as you stopped packing for a second. “Yeah. My mom got a new job so we have to move.”

“I’ll miss you.” He sat up from his position on your bed, standing up.

“I’ll miss you too.” Your (e/c) eyes turned to him, squeezing them shut to control the water that threatened to flow. He took another step forward, an arm reaching out for your waist.

“Can...Can I try something?” A tongue swiped at his bottom lip as he ran a hand nervously through his hair. You turned, placing your hands on his chest as you blinked up at him. A nervous nod as you bit your bottom lip. With hesitant movements, he brought his hand to your cheek, cupping it. Eyes searched yours for any form of uncertainty as he leaned forward. Your eyes fluttered shut as his breath warmed your lips. Another second before soft lips pressed down to meet yours. “Consider my first kiss my gift goodbye,” he whispered, leaning his forehead down to touch yours. “Don’t forget about me, okay?” Soft giggles and whispers of promises filled the air as lips met each other over and over again in the fading summer light.

****

The match had ended, and Karasuno had won. Racing downstairs to meet the team with Yachi, your legs bounced eagerly as you stood outside peeking in. The Johzenji team looked disappointed, the manager in tears as they headed out. “Yuuji!” Before you knew it, your legs were already moving and you were jumping towards the boy. Legs wrapped around his waist as he hoisted you up, hugging you tightly. Hands cupped his face as you leaned down, soft lips brushing against his in a fervent kiss. “I missed you,” you breathed against him, forehead against his. Brown eyes blinked warmly at you before he pulled you into another kiss, letting the piercing run across your lips. You kiss as if it was the last time you would be seeing each other. “So I guess your parents were right about us.” You whispered against his lips, causing him to pull back and laugh loudly.

He brushed your hair out of your face. “Y’know, I always had a thing for you back then.”

“Good, otherwise this would’ve been real awkward.”

“Does that mean I can get that number now?”

#terushima yuuji #terushima x reader #terushima yuuji x reader #johnzenji #karasuno manager #karasuno #slight daichi bias #daddy daichi 🥴#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu #terushima yuuji imagines #terushima yuuji fluff #haikyuu fluff #hidden-otaku-stuff #terushima fluff

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rhysismydaddy · 4 years ago

Text

An Artful Revenge pt. 6 (Feysand)

Part of the Damnation series.

This is the last part of this fic! Gonna work on some asks next, then start the Nessian story (see the link above for details)

~Feyre~

Men, in general, are beyond stupid.

I honestly don’t even know how the male population is still around.

I mean sure, they have their moments. Fire? Pretty cool.

Maybe I should amend my statement: Men are stupid when it comes to women.

Because if Tamlin had any common sense, he would wonder why I drag myself into his office downtown, the day after I found out who he really is.

He’d wonder how I even found his posh little office, since he sure as hell never told me about it. (Answer: Rhysand).

He’d wonder why I’m crying and having an emotional breakdown, but am still dressed in a lowcut dress with my hair done. (Answer: men are even stupider when it comes to a woman with exposed breasts).

But he doesn’t.

He sees me stumbling toward him, a mess of tears and fluffy hair, and jumps to his feet, coming to my rescue.

His arms wrap around me miraculously at the same time my legs give out, and I fall into him dramatically.

That was a little much, but what can I say? I was a theatre kid.

“Feyre,” he says calmly, stroking my hair like he didn’t insult me twenty-four hours ago. In fact, he’s acting like we didn’t even break up. “What’s wrong?”

I press my face in his shoulder, trying not to think about how wrong this feels, how wrong he smells.

Rhysand smells like citrus and the sea and something so manly it makes my knees go weak for real. Tamlin smells like dirt and bad decisions.

“You were right.” It’s something all men love to hear a woman say, even though it’s hardly ever true. “You were so right, Tamlin.”

He pulls back and runs a thumb over my cheek, swiping a tear away.

His green eyes question mine, so calm and understanding compared to yesterday’s rage. His hands are gentle as they cradle my face, and I want them off off off.

“He’s a monster,” I wail, dredging up some more tears. Knowing there needs to be more of a concrete reason for my breakdown, I make some pretty seedy shit up. “He... killed his driver! Because he took a wrong turn!”

Gods, Feyre. Really?

I can practically see Rhysand rolling his eyes. He’d see through my lies in a second.

Tamlin, however, bites the bait... more like he swallows the whole damn line.

He hugs me again, so tight my feet leave the floor, and I go limp against him, pressing all the soft parts of me against the hardness of his chest.

Don’t get me wrong, Tamlin’s attractive. Wide shoulders, surfer boy hair, tan skin, and green eyes that look like the deepest of emerald.

But he also is a fucking asshole, and everything about him irritates me.

It’s crazy, I think as his hands slip lower on my back, that yesterday he called me a whore, and now he wants to sleep with me.

Prick.

“Tamlin,” I sigh against his neck.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.”

I almost throw up at the little pet name, but I nod and act like he’s the greatest thing on this planet, the gods’ personal gift to all things women.

But then he kisses me, and I get tired of this little charade.

I keep my eyes open as his warm lips meet mine, wanting to see his face as the needle sinks into his skin.

His eyes fly open, and he drops me to my feet roughly, a hand pressed against his neck. It’s too late, of course.

Whatever black market shit this is, it works fast.

His legs give out, and I shove his shoulder so he lands in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk.

“Feyre,” he growls, no longer happy to see me, “What the fuck are you doing?”

I roll my eyes, because even the dumbest of men should be able to figure that out my now.

You’d think he’d pass out or be too paralyzed to talk, but just like Rhysand promised me, the drugs have paralyzed him from the neck down but left him perfectly conscious.

I want him to see exactly what I’m doing.

Straightening my dress, I saunter over to his desk, eyes scanning the messy papers and folders for what I want.

Three rings, the exact copy of Rhysand’s, sit in a glass box, the shining titanium making them look like treasure. And they are.

But they’ve been here fucking long enough.

I try to open the box, but it’s locked, so I sigh and grab a paperweight, then smash it to bits.

“You do this, Feyre, and I’ll come after you.”

“Ooooh, scary,” I deadpan, completely writing him off in a way I know drives him crazy.

Glass flies everywhere, but I just grab the rings and put them on whatever fingers they’ll fit on.

Yet another piece of evidence men are idiots: I was wearing Rhysand’s ring when I walked in here.

A small detail, sure, but when I took that ring from him yesterday in his car, I made a vow to never take it off.

It’s a little big, resting on my thumb, but it’s perfect.

It means I’m his, and he’s mine.

“He might have Chicago, but I’ll make you’re life miserable!”

“You did that for two years,” I remind him with a smile.

Then I set the radio exactly like I’d been told to, turn back to Tamlin, punch him square in the jaw, and smile when I hear a crunch.

That wasn’t exactly part of the plan, but I was tired of his threats.

He howls in pain, and I know it makes me meaner than an adder, but I blow him a kiss and laugh as I walk out of his office.

A sleek black sedan, driven by the very much alive Rolando (I’ve officially stopped thinking of him as Beefcakes), waits for me at the curb. I swing the door open and climb in, turning to Rhysand with a grin.

I hold up my hands victory.

Rhysand smiles and laughs, relief and love and awe written across his beautiful features.

He’s so fucking handsome, I can’t hold out anymore.

Muttering an apology to Rolando for what he’s about to witness, I sling myself across the leather seat and pretty much attack Rhysand.

It might be the fact that I just drugged someone with illegal substances--my very first crime!--or maybe just how he looks when he’s happy. I don’t really care.

My hands are on his jaw, running down his chest, tangling in his hair.

He lets out a surprised laugh as I paw at him, and I use the opportunity to sweep my tongue into his mouth, holding back a moan at the taste of him.

The car stops, but I sure as hell don’t.

Until Rhysand takes me shoulders in his hands, and gently pulls away. “Adrenaline junkie,” he accuses with a smile, pressing one last kiss to my cheek.

I nod, because it’s probably true.

He gives me an amused look. “Then I can’t wait for what happens in twenty minutes.”

I stick my tongue out at him, ever the mature adult, and he smiles. Then he takes my hands, examines the rings, and takes the two that fit the worst.

He slips them on, and even though it’s a casual gesture, I almost break out into tears.

Too manly to cry like a baby, Rhysand just opens the door and walks out, taking my hand and pulling me with him.

Even though he looks calm and cool as a cucumber, I know he’s not exactly thrilled I’m here. We had our first real argument about me coming along for this part of the plan I’ve secretly begun to call Toppling Tamlin the Tool.

I won, obviously.

He warned me time and time again about what I was going to witness today, but I don’t care. His revenge is his to take, but I want to be here for him.

He’s been fighting for so long, completely alone.

And no matter how it started, I fell for him. He isn’t alone anymore, and won’t be ever again, no matter how dangerous the situation is.

Hand in hand, we stroll into Leperchaun’s Luck, the last remaining Irish stronghold in Chicago.

When I asked why he’d let it remain all this time, Rhysand smiled that cruel smile and said, “Revenge is only worth it if it’s slow and painful.”

I’d shuddered, half in horror and half in excitement.

I know it’s horrible and beyond absurd, but what he does for a living doesn’t scare me. He explained the gory details last night, and I listened. And even though I was scared, it wasn’t of him.

It was for him.

He has enemies with rap sheets longer than my arm.

The guy Rhysand blocks from buying Degas? Russian arms dealer!

But Chicago, he’d told me with a smile, is his. Someone would have to be suicidal to come after him here. So I guess I’ll just blow up his plane and never let him leave.

Sounds realistic.

I’d like to think it was my smile and charm that made him give in and let me tag along, but it was likely the fact that we aren’t in any super big dangerous.

We walk through the empty bar and to the courtyard in the back, and it’s a little amusing how quickly the six men sitting around a poker table jump to their feet and start shouting questions.

“What the fuck?” is the most popular.

“Hello, gentlemen,” Rhysand greets smoothly, ever the gentleman.

Someone behind us loads a gun, the sound making my eyes go wide.

But it’s never fired.

Because all of a sudden, red dots are on every single chest besides mine and Rhysand’s.

“Pull that trigger, McCallen, and all your friends die.”

They all look down and around at each other with huge, saucer-sized eyes.

Not one to dally, Rhysand smiles and tells the group, “I just bought this establishment. Needless to say, you’re no longer welcome. In here, or Chicago. You have six hours to leave my city.”

‘Bought’ is a bit of a strong word. He hacked into Tamlin’s bank account and bankrupted him, forcing him to sell to the highest bidder. Guess who that was.

“Or what?” one asks, feeling brave.

Another dot makes its way to his chest.

Gods, how many snipers does Rhysand have?

“Or you’ll die, and your precious little daughter Lena will be an orphan.”

The man’s jaw sets, even as his face pales.

Checking his watch with a casual gesture, Rhysand reminds, “Six hours and counting.”

Then he says, directly at the small box in the middle of the poker table, “That goes for you too, Tamlin.”

Since he didn’t want to risk coming back to Chicago, much less his last property here, Tamlin had been keeping control of his men by listening to everything that happened in this place on a private radio frequency.

Which, somehow, Rhysand knew.

He’d told me the number, and I’d turned the radio in Tamlin’s office to it before leaving. The drugs haven’t left his system and won’t until later today, meaning he’s still lying limp in that chair, listening to every word.

“Leave before I lose my patience,” Rhysand growls, and the men take the warning and haul ass out of the building.

Turning to me, he smiles and asks, “Ready, Feyre darling?”

“Ready.”

We walk out of the restaurant again, pep definitely in our steps, then get back in the car. Rolando starts driving immediately, leaving the restaurant behind us.

“Do you want to-”

“Yes,” I answer immediately, grabbing the phone from him and hitting call.

"So violent,” he murmurs with a smirk, turning in his seat to watch as the explosives he’d placed there years ago during a mandatory “city inspection” finally came into use.

The explanation I got on that one: “In case I got bored.”

Gods, he’s sexy.

The car rocks slightly as orange and blue and yellow flames race out of the building, leaving absolutely nothing behind.

Even though the violent woman in me wants to keep watching, I look at Rhysand instead.

His eyes find mine, and he smiles softly. “It’s done. It’s over.”

I nod and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, linking our hands together. We both stare down at the rings. “It’s over.”

Tamlin will run back to wherever he’s been the past seven months, and since there’s absolutely nothing for him here, he won’t come back.

Rhysand has complete control of the city again, his empire built brick by brick through hard work and rage. He’s gotten his revenge, taken everything from the man who left him with nothing.

And he got me.

“Was that enough adrenaline for you, Feyre?” he asks, hitting a button to roll up the barrier between us and Rolando.

Someone else, it seems, is an adrenaline junkie.

Smiling, I slide down on the soft leather and lift an eyebrow. “Come find out.”

~Feyre, three months later~

Somehow, I feel nauseous, excited, and doomed all at once.

I don’t even know how that’s possible, but it’s true.

I’m so nervous, I might be sick. I’m so excited, I can hardly walk. I’m so unsure of myself, I might fail.

Focusing on the one in the middle, I walk down the aisle between chairs, ignoring the people watching me and focusing on the destination.

I can feel his eyes on me, and just like the first day we met, I can hardly breathe. But I ignore the tingly feeling in my spine and focus on what I’m doing.

I walk up to the slightly lifted stage in the large auditorium and turn to my peers, smiling and feigning confidence.

I’m presenting my senior project today. And even though I’m excited and nervous and doomed, I’m proud of it.

It turned out better than I expected, honestly.

It took me forever to finish the painting aspect because I wasn’t quite satisfied until late last night.

The paint’s interrupted and surrounded by photos I’ve collected this year.

Rhysand, covered in paint. Art from both Chicago’s museum and the private collection I visit almost every day. Random bits of architecture and the night sky and shots that just work.

Up close, it’s a bit of a mess, but from a distance--particularly, the distance between me and Rhysand’s chair--it looks like three dancers, twirling and leaping under the night sky.

My professor hugged me when she saw it. So did Rhysand.

No offense to Prof. Jones, but I enjoyed his a little more.

“This is called Starlight Dancers,” I tell the room, my voice surprisingly level. I’m glad for the bright lights, because I can’t see anyone’s actual face as I continue. “It’s a rendition of Degas’s work, Dancers in Blue, which is my favorite piece. I’ve also incorporated photographs of art and people who mean a lot to me. Like a lot of pieces from the Renaissance, it’s meant to be viewed at a distance.”

I keep talking, going through the difference elements and explaining how, essentially, it’s a celebration of painting and love.

More than once, my eyes are drawn to the photographs of Rhysand, and I find myself searching for him in the crowd.

I also get a little distracted by the mass of sparkles adorning my ring finger.

We’ve been engaged for three days, eight hours, and a handful of minutes.

He proposed in the museum, right where we met. When I almost feinted at the site of the biggest diamond I’d ever seen and told him it was too much, he’d just laughed and said, “It was this or the painting behind you.”

Ridiculous, wonderful man.

I know it’s fast to get married after less than five months together, but the scary truth is that I can’t imagine life without him.

I scan the crowd again, and it might be my imagination, but I think I see a pair of violet eyes watching me.

And I could swear one winks at me.

~Rhysand~

I’m not supposed to be in here.

I’m not a professor, and I’m sure as shit not a student.

But I snuck in anyway, ignoring the millions of things I actually need to be doing, because I want to support her.

I don’t even know what she’s talking about--impressionism and romantic elements and different types of photography--but she’s so passionate and beautiful, I can’t take my eyes off her.

She has me completely wrapped around her finger, and it should probably scare me that I don’t even care.

Years and years of planning, and everything that’s happened in the past month still surprised me.

Not the part about running every last Irish bastard out of my city; that’d been set in stone.

The part about me getting engaged.

Ironically, that’s the only part that makes me smile.

Sure, I sent Tamlin running for the hills with his ragged band of leprechauns, set his stronghold on fire, and finally have peace over what happened all those years ago.

But even that pales in comparison to waking up next to the woman up on the stage.

She’s a bed hog and always puts her freezing feet on me as soon as I crawl next to her, but the way she smiles at me when she wakes up makes up for it.

Everything about her makes up for it, actually.

She’s still absolutely crazy and wonderful and I now have paint splatters on more than a few of my suits, but being loved by her is like... standing in the sun after being locked in a cave. Or some other shitty metaphor.

The fucking point is, even though getting down on one knee in a museum and asking her to share her life with me is the last thing I expected to happen, I’m glad it did.

Because being with her gives me something I’d thought I’d lost ten years ago: happiness.

________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

TAGS: @elorcan-trash @januarystears @emikadreams @alpha-omegas @joyceortiz13 @sapphic-beauty @meowsekai @ahappyhistorianreader @courtofjurdan @acalypsot @acourtofsjmtrash @highladyofthesith @bookwormq702 @swankii-art-teacher @lunaroseperdomo @leaf-love-life @mari-highladyof-feels @raghad-50725 @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#feysand #feysand fanfiction #feyre archeron #feyre #rhysand #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of mist and fury #a court of frost and starlight

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nicka-nell · 4 years ago

Note

Osamu, fluff, 13, 30, childhood friends and Ukai, angst, 26, 46 thanks!

A heartbreaking break-up (Ukai x reader)

Childhood friends to lovers (Osamu x reader)

Aiii Ukai angst. Poor old man, I love him, but well I hope it’s angsty enough. TT.TT I hope you like it ♥

Valentine’s Day - Prompt Event | Masterlist (coming soon)

Pairing: Ukai x reader

Warning: angst, a hint of nsfw, cheating, break-up, mention of alcohol

Prompts:

26. “They don’t need to know.”

46. “Did you at least think of me, when you were having sex with her?”

In a relationship, there are always difficulties. You too had experienced a lot together. At that time you were still a manager in the last school year, when Ukai came to your school and started as a coach.

You had gotten along well, and it didn’t take long for both of you to understand that there was a closer connection between you than between all the others. It didn’t take long for the two of you to be alone in the gym, which you still wanted to clean up when he had unexpectedly kissed you. It also happened quickly that the two of you had decided on this secret love, because as long as you were in school, no one should know that you were together.

It was hard for you to act like you always did. Also, for him it was difficult at that time to see how the boys had flirted with you and he could do nothing about it. You fought a lot, but after you graduated, everything was different.

You could officially go outside as a couple, were in love and had rarely arguments. If you’ve had a fight, it’s about things that every couple argues about. Sometimes it was about Ukai always putting his coffee cup on the dishwasher, and not directly into it, or also about you always sticking your hair to the tiles under the shower and not rinsing them away.

Now over five years have passed, unfortunately, everyday life catches up with you before you graduate. Because you fight repeatedly. Mostly for no reason for small things that degenerate into a big argument.

So far that you lie in bed crying while Ukai sleeps on your sofa in the living room. Sometimes he was even away for days, had used the room in his shop as a retreat. Yet he was always the one who came back, who had apologized and told you over and over again that you could do everything together. Still, everything feels weird to you.

You meet your old schoolmate and talk to him about all your worries and fears. But he only tells you that you should not worry and should just trust Ukai. And so you do. This time, you want to trust him more, want to be the one who apologizes to him for all your disputes.

So you go to his favorite whisky shop. You look there for a whisky he does not have yet and also buy him a pack of his favorite cigarettes as well as a book with different volleyball strategies. That would certainly help him as a coach.

Adorned with a sweet gift basket, you take the apology gift into your hands, look at the kitchen clock again before you make your way to your old school and his place of instruction. When you arrive, all the students should be gone, only Ukai should be in the hall. Maybe just one or the other student who wants some tips.

The buttons of her blouse rattle as they fall to the ground, Ukai’s hands move hastily over her shapely upper body, while his lips passionately kiss her neck. “Haaah fuck, Keishin! We haa… We should stop.” She only cries as she pulls his head up and shoves her tongue down his throat.

Her cheeks are red, her eyes large and round, her lips already swollen, and the dark red lipstick barely on her lips. “What if someone shows up? What if we get caught? That wouldn’t be good for both of us.” She breathes in a shaky voice as she spreads her legs so that Ukai can thrust into her better.

“They don’t need to know. And nobody’s going to find out if you keep your voice quiet.” He whispers as he continues to kiss her neck before hitting the fat of her thighs and pressing deep into her one last time before he comes. He plays on her bud until she also comes to her climax loudly and falls behind on the coarse sports mat.

Without really paying much attention to her, he steps away and draws the condom from his now half-stiff member as he knots it together and throws it into the trash can next to him before putting on his pants again.

The hall is empty as you step into it, but Ukai’s bag is still next to the entrance. Thoughtfully you look through the sports hall when you suddenly hear a loud moan from the storeroom. Your entire body is suddenly constricting.

You feel your heart stopping, afraid of what to expect when you go there. But your body moves on its own, taking you to the room where Ukai and you used to spend a lot of time. Your hand trembles terribly as you lay it on the door handle and open the door, hoping you have misheard and there is nothing to find behind this door except an empty storage room. But it’s not like that.

Because all you see is your beloved boyfriend closing his belt, his sweater still in the corner on the floor, while a young woman is lying on the sports mat. The young new gym teacher Ukai told you about. The teacher that Ukai found terribly tiring, loud and annoying.

And now she lies there, with the top open, the skirt and panties only sloppily pulled to the side, as if the two had no time. Trembling, she lifts her chest up and down as if she had just had her best orgasm. “Kei… shin?”

Like a loud siren, your soft, shaky voice enters Ukai’s ears. Let his heart come to a standstill as his eyes look at you, frightened.

They’re looking at the face he’s been seeing every day for years. On the lips, he kisses every day. The eyes he looks at every time he tells you he loves you more than anything. But they don’t shine.

No, your face is full of disappointment, full of sorrow, your lip trembles terribly and your otherwise shiny eyes now shine from the tears you are trying to hold back frantically. But you can’t hold them back anymore.

They roll over the cheeks, which Ukai had always pinched, when you once again told him that he had grown old, when he rubbed his back and complained how much it hurts.

You keep silent for a long time until you turn around and try to get out of here as soon as possible. But Ukai’s body acts faster than yours, as his hand grasps your wrist, draws you to him when he looks into your crying eyes.

“Did you at least think of me, when you were having sex with her?” You yell at him, but he won’t answer. He just looks at you like he doesn’t know what to do. “How long are you doing it with… her?!” You keep screaming, your voice is accompanied by your sniffle. But Ukai doesn’t say a word.

You feel so silly; you wanted to make things right. That you worried, while he’s probably been sleeping with that disgusting woman for weeks, if not months. Disgusted, you pull away from him, turn around to leave the hall, but you quickly feel Ukai’s arms as they wrap around your body.

“I’m so sorry… I am so sorry Y/n. I don’t even know what got into me. I don’t even know why I did it. But believe me when I tell you, it was just today. This one time, and I know it’s one time too many.”

Your whole body trembles in his arms. With every word that comes out of his mouth, your body quivers more and more. With grief, with disappointment, with anger.

“I’m an incredible idiot. An asshole. But please, I love you Y/n. I’ve always loved you, and God damn it, I still love you so much. Please forgive me, I don’t know what’s been going on with me lately. Please forgive me this last time. I want to make it up to you. Please let me show you I’m sorry. Please… don’t go!” Now his voice trembles even more than your own body, but you can no longer hear his words.

You pull yourself away from him one last time with full force, throw him the basket with the gifts at his feet and whisper to him quietly that it is too late for his apologies. Just for a brief moment he looks at the gift basket, at the content that makes him happy, because there is so much love in it.

But when he looks up in the direction you were standing before, there’s nothing left. But Ukai knows he can fix it. After all, you two are destined for each other. You’re his young bird and he’s your old cat.

But when Ukai comes home, the apartment is empty. He knows you need some time for yourself, and he knows it’s not right to call you right now. So he waits. Because you were meant to be together.

Yet even after a week, the apartment is empty, just as empty as the whiskey you gave him. Even after a month, it’s as empty as his heart. Still, after more than two years, the apartment is empty and cold. Lonely without you.

Your things weren’t in the apartment after a week, because you picked them up while he was at work. His T-shirt, which you always wore, doesn’t smell like you anymore. He bought your perfume, sprayed it on his T-shirt so he could at least carry your scent. But this is not the same. Because your scent was different. Everything is different without you. Cold and dreary.

The messages he sends you are always one-sided, because you do not answer. Even your friends won’t tell him anything. Your coworkers, too, because they won’t let him see you. He can’t even go to your new apartment because he doesn’t know where you are.

You had disappeared from the scene. In front of the stores where you’ve always been, you weren’t anymore. There was no trace of you in any of the places you used to visit together. Only your photos show him what he had done wrong.

That he’d thrown away the love of his life for a woman he couldn’t even stand. Only photos and his memory of you remain. Because you’re gone, and you always will be.

How long has it been since you met those two brothers? Actually, as long as you can remember. Because when you started crawling on your knees and hands on the floor, the two guys have already taken their first steps. When you went to school, the two of them were one class above you and they were always looking out for you. Even in high school, the two have always had a watchful eye.

Pairing: Osamu x reader (childhood friends to lovers)

Warning: just fluff

Prompts:

13. “You can’t say you haven’t thought about it? I have.”

30. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

The better they thought it was that you took the job as manager of the volleyball club. Because that way they could take care of you even better. But even though both boys had tried to protect their little girl, Osamu was always the one you liked more. Then he was like a knight to you.

Back then, it was Osamu who always let you play volleyball with them. You were not good at volleyball, and at every practice Atsumu had only tossed Osamu the ball.

Your gaze got sadder and sadder, your tears were almost tingling, and all you really wanted to do was leave when Osamu gave you the ball and told you with a slim smile that you were going to make it.

When you fell, he was the one who wiped the tears from your eyes, who glued a band-aid over the tiny graze wound and said that everything was going to be fine. He was also the one who comforted you at your first lovesickness. The one who comforted you in your second relationship. He’s always been there for you.

And at some point, you also had to realize that he was not only there for you, but that he was also the one for whom you feel more than just friendship. But is that right? No… Because you are friends, always have been and always will be. At least if you don’t tell him about your feelings. If you do, you’re sure you’ll destroy your friendship.

So you try to plunge back into a relationship that distracts you from your true feelings for a brief moment. At the end, even this one doesn’t last long and you quickly find yourself back in Osamu’s arms.

“When are you gonna tell her, idiot?” Hisses Atsumu, who stands annoyed in the doorframe of his brother’s room. But Osamu is just sitting at his desk, watching a cooking video on his laptop, while his thoughts are somewhere else.

“Don’t ignore me, Samu!” His brother shouts angrily to him, as he suddenly stands right next to him and flicks his forefinger and thumb against his forehead. “Are you out of your mind, you fool? What are you doing here?” Osamu tries to sound angry, but his voice is calm, almost bored, just like his expression.

“You told me months ago that you’d be the happier one of us both. You and your shop! Then change this and don’t cry like a stupid crybaby! Go to her and tell her you love her, or I will!” Groaning, he grabs his brother’s jersey collar, shakes him several times until their two faces only minimally are separate from each other.

But it does not take long until the blond man’s back touches the ground, with a dull sound and Osamu is now sitting on him. “Shut your mouth! You have no idea! You can’t understand this because you’ve never been so good friends with her. My feelings for her don’t matter! If she’s happy, I’m happy too, so stay out of it if you do not know, idiot!” He yells at him before the two men start fighting like they used to back in childhood. Rolling back and forth on the floor, slapping each other in the face and throwing stupid sayings at each other’s heads.

“Stop talking shit like that! You’d be happy with her! Not if only she’s happy! But I don’t care, do what you want. This is your life you’re screwing up. I’m going to bed. Because I have an important game tomorrow! Right, a game with MY volleyball club. With the club that makes me happy! Because I AM happy!”

Without even waiting for an answer from Osamu, he slams the bedroom door and leaves his twin alone in silence. “It is best to prepare the dough the day before, as it must rest for twenty-four hours.” When Osamu hears the cook talking from his laptop, he gets up and looks at the video, where he doesn’t even know why he turned it on in the first place.

“Fuck it…” He just curses, folds his laptop and walks into the hallway to put on his shoes and jacket. This conversation has given him a headache, and fresh air is best for him. His hands hide in his pocket, his face is serious as he looks up into the bright moon. Only it glows in the sky. Not a single star is visible.

Again and again Atsumu’s words go through his head, and again he has to agree with his brother. And it annoys him…

Osamu doesn’t know how long he’s been walking around. But he doesn’t want to go home now. He doesn’t want to go back to the place where his brother’s voice gets in his head. He has no desire to listen to Atsumu, that he currently has such a much happier life than he. Because it’s true. Atsumu has everything he wanted. An fantastic volleyball career.

Even the grey-haired man has his Onigiri shop. And he was sure that this would make him completely fulfilled and happy. But this one piece of the puzzle is missing. The last part you need to make a puzzle into a complete picture. You.

Shaking his head, he lowers it, as he looks forward when he suddenly finds himself in front of a door so familiar to him. Without knowing it, he wandered around the area to end up standing in front of a front door that makes his heart beat several beats faster. On your doorstep.

No, he has to leave. Whatever brought him here has to get him home now. Convinced to turn around and walk, his body acts as if another person were controlling it. Because instead of leaving, he rings.

His hand gets sweaty despite the cold outside. For a blink of an eye, he quickly thinks about turning around and leaving. It’s already the middle of the night and it’s quite possible that you’re already asleep. Yeah, he should go. Osamu just wants to put one foot back, move his body as the creaking wood makes him swallow and puts his body in a heat wave.

Tired, you stand before him, your hair stands out in all directions, he can see sleep in the corners of your eyes. Only your cute plush socks and an old T-shirt adorn your body. His Shirt.

“Samu? What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night.” It hurts him to see you like this. In his things and knowing that you will never be his. It hurts him to know that he’s leaving right now and you’ll only see each other again as friends. Still, he just doesn’t know where to go at the moment.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” He says so quietly that you can only guess his words. But you open the door just one more piece, grab his icy hand and drag him into your apartment. You want to know if anything happened, but he just shakes his head thoughtfully.

It’s stupid of Osamu to think you can’t see through his lie. Sighing, you drag him into your living room, letting him understand without a word that he should sit down before you leave him for a moment.

Immersed in his thoughts, he does not notice how you come back with a delicious smelling green tea. You hand it over to him with your beautifully shining eyes as your fingers brush for a lash. “Thank you.” He breathes calmly, looking into the greenish water, just to see his reflection.

He doesn’t notice your hands trying to find their way to his lap. How they lie down on it and your eyes look up to him under your long eyelashes. You say nothing, just look while he smiles back at you almost sad, and puts the tea on the table, just to place your hands in his and drive his thumb over the back of your hand. He had often wondered what it would feel like to have your fingers linked, what it’s like to kiss them and look at your face full of love.

Osamu does not know what is going on in his head, but completely absent-minded, he opens his mouth while his gaze still remains on your hands. “Your hands are so soft Y/n. I’d love to know how soft your lips feel.”

Too late, he realizes that he has heard his voice not only in the head. Because your hands twitch briefly in his, making him look into your glowing and totally surprised face. Osamu’s heart is beating wildly. His pulse is racing and he knows it’s too late now to talk his way out of this situation. Again Atsumu’s words return to his thoughts.

Say her.

You guys have been friends for so long when he first start thinking about things like kissing you for the first time. So maybe you did that too sometime? He has to try. He has to risk it. Or is he just ruining everything?

“I mean… You can’t say you haven’t thought about it? I have.” He tries to be as serious as possible, hoping you don’t realize how nervous he actually is. But his hands press yours even more tightly when you do not answer him, just simply look at him silently with big eyes.

He’s the one who destroyed it. Your friendship. Everything you’ve built together. All these years destroyed in a moment. If he were alone now, he would punch his fist against a wall, or just lie in silence in his bed.

“So did I, Samu.” Your voice is only silent in his ears, but for him your words were crystal clear. You didn’t abandon him. No, but you didn’t say you felt that way too. At least at the moment.

Hesitantly, you move a little closer to the gray-haired man. You won’t let go of his hands for a second.

In the yellowish glowing ceiling light, you keep silent, look the other only quietly in the eyes, while you listen to your own loud beating heart. And before he knows it, Osamu’s face is just a nose tip away from yours. He can feel your breath on his lips. Smells your sweet scent and realizes that you’re still not backing off.

That your hands hold his, like you’re afraid he’ll let you go. No, he just has to try. It’s now or never. “Will… Will you allow me to kiss you?” He whispers softly to you, drawing you with his dark eyes into his spell.

He makes you speechless, even though you want to say something. But your voice just doesn’t come. Instead, you nod slowly, looking down at his mouth until you close your eyes and feel his warm lips.

Your grip on his hands becomes looser, which makes Osamu detach from them and gently encloses your cheek with one hand, while his other moves to the back of your head and pulls you closer to his body.

Your lips are soft, your body warm and your taste wonderful. He won’t let you go, nor do you want to. As if he were afraid of losing you, he buries his hand in your hair, pressing you even closer to him. No, he won’t let you go again, because you’re his last piece of the puzzle. The piece he missed to be happy.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #osamu x reader #ukai x reader #lovebirds-event

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years ago

Text

Rough Night

Bucky Barnes x (f)werewolf reader

Summary: Your life is already so weird, thankfully Bucky loves you through it all.

Warning: fluff, reader being a sass master w/ no filter

side note: couldn’t think of any cool avenger powers and then brain went werewolf so here we are

Masterlist

If you had a dollar for every time you’d ended up in the woods with ripped clothes and no shoes, well, let’s just say you could probably afford a real nice two bedroom apartment in some real pleasantly fancy building with a great view and all. Too bad green doesn’t just rain down from the sky every time the full moon comes round to knock you back into another world of blurry confusion.

You won’t lie to yourself, being what you are is strange and not very common in the slightest, obviously. It’s even weirder that you weren’t bitten one night and turned just like that, oh no, all passed down through the bloodline of other strange relatives. So you’re gifted with the curse, forced to inevitably change into a furry beast every single full moon, so what you’re still a mostly pleasant individual.

Well luckily for you, being born with the gift does happen to have its perks which do come in handy. For instance, you’re incredibly strong, quick on your feet, and have heightened senses, plus the ability to shift on command. It’s not all bad, well......most of the time.

Honestly you truly thought life couldn’t get much stranger for you and your whole hidden secretive situation, until low and behold some random red head found your little hideaway in a remote mountain side village far off in the Himalayas.

Everything was completely fine and under control and then BAM, she showed up with some important documents and something called an Avengers initiative and well shit, guess some time spent with the real world couldn’t hurt. I mean come on, some more friends seemed like a nice idea and uh, somehow they knew who you were so too late to run and hide.

Also at the time, considering you lived like a recluse on the edge of the village and of course for good reason, but damn if the red head didn’t just hand you an open invitation for some real adventure. Who were you to say no?

Fortunately for you, all seemed to go in your favor and fantastically enough, they had a nice big strong cell for you on nights when the wolf was inevitably bound to come out. A fridge full of plentiful snacks, a training room to lay off some steam, and a big safe and secure room all your own. It was perfect. Only problem was, there happened to be a very attractive and very wary of you super soldier who undoubtedly caught your attention.

How could you not, he smelled divine, muscles for days, thick thighs that could make a girl swoon, and he just seemed like the best goddamn hugger alive. Okay listen, maybe you were touch starved and deprived of human affection but dammit if your little monster heart didn’t skip a beat every time he was near you.

And yes, the few months it took to get him to crack was just down right torturous. But with some coaxing from Steve and encouragement from Sam, the winter soldier at long last did talk to you. Turned out he thought you were scared of him all along, how hilariously ironic you thought when he told you that.

But as time progressed and you both opened up more and more, a blossoming relationship sprouted forth, eventually evolving and manifesting into a big beautiful flower called love. Cheesy yes, but you couldn’t have dreamed of anything better.

And seriously, he wasn’t freaked out about your whole hidden hush hush secretive gift that usually either goes in your favor or ends up causing you major legal trouble. The man himself, Bucky Barnes, thought you were a marvel to behold, so odd and fantastic that he couldn’t stay away even if he tried.

And for that you could love him forever, especially now after a full moon while you’re out in the middle of nowhere. Hoping that the team will send your hundred year old boyfriend out to find you in the brisk dark morning after a grand unrememberable adventure. Which would be very nice of course, considering you have not a damn clue what you’ve done.....or where you are.

Cracking your back, you stretch your hands up to the dawning sky as a tired yawn escapes you. It’s been a long night and you look like a wild woman with your hear a fluffy nest and your clothes ripped in various unrevealing places thankfully.

Your surroundings are simply trees and small scraggly bushes, green grass underneath your bare feet and a small stream flowing in the near distance. With a second to listen, you can hear a highway a couple miles away to the east, guess that’s a start.

Rubbing your eyes you set out in that direction for about twenty minutes before a blue and gold Mercedes comes into view from the side of a country back road, it stops when you guess the driver spotted you from the tree line. Keeping a wary eye on the fancy sports car, you keep walking towards it until a figure gets out and leans against the passengers side door all cool and casual, then on further inspection you realize the driver is Bucky.

Yes! My knight in shining armor is here!

Trudging through the grassy field in the dewy morning light, he watches your every move, eyes crinkling in amusement as you come to stand a couple feet in front of him. Undoubtedly looking a bit wild, and very tired as you fold your arms underneath each other, giving your dark haired lover a shy almost fangy smile.

“I know I look like a hot mess.” You mutter with a shrug, biting your lip as you dart your eyes to the fields behind him, slightly embarrassed of the current disheveled state you’re in.

Bucky smirks before pushing himself off the car and engulfing you into a big Bucky bear hug to your pleasant surprise, “Y/N I’m just glad you’re okay and nothing bad happened to you.” He mumbles into your shoulder as you press yourself closer to him, letting yourself have this wonderful moment to relax and feel at ease.

Slowly pulling back to look up at him, you smile, “Aww Buck you were worried about me?”

He returns the grin, leaning down to press his head flush against yours, “We all were, me more then anyone else of course...and maybe for the general civilians nearby.”

You laugh nervously, “Oh right, yeah. Well hey, I didn’t destroy anyone's car this time. I think I’ve made progress.”

He pauses for a brief moment indicating he’s not sure if he should tell you something and this does make you nervous before Bucky finally lets out a little laugh, “You ate a whole cow Y/N.”

Snorting in surprise you quickly pull your head from Bucky’s, “What? Did I? Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Yeah, uh I wish.” He admits with a casual reassuring squeeze to your arm, “We tracked you with Sam’s suit tech, yunno Red Wing, and uh....you seemed to be having fun.”

Mentally and just about physically cringing at yourself, you purse your lips together in slight embarrassment, “Shit. Was it gross?” You ask, making a face that causes him to chuckle.

“A little.” Adds Bucky with another casual shrug to make you feel less terrible.

“Is the farmer going to see everything, I mean shit they’re gonna be so pissed.” You worry, biting your lip anxiously as you break eye contact from him. “Why am I like this.”

“Uh, that’s not going to be a problem.” Inquires Bucky causing you to find his blue eyes once again.

Eying him up suspiciously you raise a brow, “And why’s that.....Bucky what did I do?”

Taking a breath he gives you a small apprehensive smile, “Y/N...you uh, kind of ate......everything.”

“I what?” I did not! No way, right?

Giving you a quick kiss on the cheek he smiles affectionately, “I’m going to be honest with you here it looked like a kid with a piece of cake who has no impulse control, and loves cake....like a lot.....Rodney almost puked.”

Rolling your eyes you fake glare at him, “Oh god who all watched my little horror show?”

“Mostly everyone.”

“Jesus.”

“It’s like a car crash Y/N, we don’t want to watch but we can’t look away. Sorry doll.” He confesses apprehensively, though honest and sincere knowing you do feel bad for what you do when out of it.

“No.” You say honestly, pausing for a moment, “It’s fine. Seriously Buck, I’m just relieved you guys keep taps on me while I’m out, god knows I can’t help what I do and where I go. It’s nice to have people making sure I don’t injure any innocent bystander.”

“Yeah I guess so huh...alright Y/N/N,” Chirps Bucky with a beaming grin as he attempts to shift the mood to a less dull one, “let’s get out of here, I mean unless you want to sniff around the place for awhile...it is a nice forest over there and all but I guess we can stay and I’ll let you...”

“Alright Barnes, can-it or maybe I’ll bite you.” You tease with a playful squeeze of his bicep before breaking out of his strong grasp.

“Depends on the context maybe I’d enjoy it.” Adds Bucky sarcastically, side eying you with a half smile as you move to open the car door.

Shaking your head in playful disapproval you lightly shove him aside, “Believe me you wouldn’t.”

——

The ride back to the Avengers base or headquarters or facility, who the hell knows at this point, was actually quite smooth and peaceful. Then again you fell asleep as soon as Bucky made it onto the highway, and continued to catch a much needed nap for the next hour ride home.

No one ever said you were easy alright, but let’s be real, Bucky would let you put him through anything and he’d be happy about it.

After parking and walking down the sidewalk past some early morning trainees catching a run, the two of you made it into the Avengers official HQ where all your rooms and other luxury’s are located. But of course not before walking past the facilities giant living space and huge kitchen.

Just keep looking forward, keep walking, walk faster you idiot!

“Y/N!” Shouts Sam in that stupidly peppy obnoxious early morning voice of his, no doubt gaining the attentions of Steve and Natasha who are seated at the kitchens bar talking about some mission report.

Pausing in the large doorway that’s not giving you or Bucky a whole lot of hiding space, you take a deep breath before turning to acknowledge him, “You’d think people would be sleeping considering it’s only six in the morning.”

Chuckling, Sam raises his protein shake, “Weird,” He says while giving you a knowing smirk, “we missed you during training this morning.”

Nat and Steve conceal their amusement as you simply roll your eyes, “Yeah well it was a long night.” You mutter unenthusiastically, earning the tiniest laugh from Bucky which causes you to throw him a glare. Knocking that smile right off of his handsome stubbly face.

“Well we got all these shakes here if you two love birds want one. Hate to have em go to waste.” Adds the smiling man with a nod, if he doesn’t just love seeing you looking like shit. No Sam I do not accept this invitation for you to tell me how crazy I look.

Sam means well of course, but damn he loves teasing you in front of Bucky for a fun reaction out of him. And it’s kind of working, but not on Bucky.

“It’s fine Y/N, you don’t have to have one if you don’t want to.” Calls Natasha before taking a sip from her mug. “Just ignore Sam, he’s been annoying since the gym.”

Before Sam’s even able to speak you quickly narrow your eyes at him, holding up a finger before making hasty steps across the room. Stopping right in front of him, “Give it.” You deadpan.

Brows raised in surprise he glances from a confused Bucky, then back to you again, “Listen I only made so much, Y/N this is my breakfast okay you can’t just...”

Ignoring his rushed rambling you pull out the whole glass blender full of protein shake before taking a step back as the whole room goes quiet, then never breaking eye contact you heartily drink up the whole entirety of its cold contents without missing a beat. Yeah, definitely needed that.

After you’re finished you lick your lips in satisfaction, taking a step closer towards a speechless Sam as you set the blender back in its place. Giving him a satisfied smirk before walking back over to Bucky where you tug on his jacket to follow you down the hall and away from everyone else.

Sometimes you can’t help but be a little dramatic.

——

Laying sprawled out on yours and Bucky’s giant mattress, you stare up at the ceiling as he folds your clean and freshly scented laundry, your mind swirling with thoughts of what duties you have to be apart of today. Blah, work.

Sighing gently you glance at Bucky to see if he heard you, not getting anything from him you sigh again with more grandeur this time. Nothing. Rolling your eyes you suck in a deep breath before practically soft yelling out your exhale like the dramatic little beast you are.

Glancing over to Bucky, you watch as he turns around to put some of your pants away in a drawer. Okay then, that’s how it’s gonna be. Quickly sitting up, you smirk a devilish grin before silently reaching over to pick up a small pillow, once in hand you don’t think twice before launching it at full speed directly headed for the back of his head.

But before your decently soft projectile can smack his precious flowing locks does a metal arm swiftly reach up to catch it mid flight. Oh, shit. Bucky’s head turns to you, brow raised at you before tucking the pillow underneath his arm, and going back to his usual domestic duties for the day.

Okay, killer of fun Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.

Frustrated from lack of a reaction out of him, you stand up on the bed like a warrior about to give a great battle cry. Eyeing his cute butt up for a moment, you smirk once again before launching a sneak attack pillow right for his head. It sails magnificently across the room before a metal hand stops it in its place.

Well, shit.

This time he gives you a proper look, full of mischief and a new profound playfulness that sends an excited thrill throughout your entire being. As fast as one of Thor’s lightening bolts does the pillow soar in your direction, but conveniently for you he’s forgotten just how quick you can really be. This is just what you wanted.

Dodging to the left you watch in almost slow motion as the fluffy cloth just misses your face, instead opting to smack against the back wall with a loud thud. Snapping your attention back to Bucky he narrows his blue eyes at you suspiciously while you let out an admittedly scary villainous chuckle.

Let’s party my love.

He hands you a smirk right before shifting his body to the right, arm cocked back and thrust forward just as quickly, launching his second pillow attack without an ounce of mercy. You see it coming a mile away and as graceful as a dancer do you flip off the bed, landing perfectly on the carpeted floor just as the pillow smacks hard against the door. Thwack!

Slowly standing, eyeing him up like a lioness to her prey, you give him a satisfied smile, “Missed.” You tease.

Letting out a breathy laugh, Bucky takes a cautious step in your direction as he tests the waters, “Y/N what are you doing?”

“Getting your attention you ass.”

Chuckling he takes another step forward, “Was I ignoring you?” Duh, that’s why I, oh wait he’s playing you.

“Well you certainly weren’t doing anything interesting.” You sass as he steps again closer, this time about an arms length away.

The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement, “Okay that’s fair, but was the pillow really necessary?” He asks, though his tone is still humorous.

Not falling for his alluring charm you tilt your head to the side, a knowing smile breaking out across your face as he tries to register what your true intentions are. “Yes, and so is this.” You quip before dropping to the floor for a side sweep of his legs, in an instant he’s on the ground and looking wide eyed up at you.

God he looks beautiful. No, focus.

“Y/N!” He whines breathlessly, brows furrowed as he holds himself up by his elbows, “Now you’re gonna get it!”

Taking a quick step back you snort, “Oh really now?”

And he’s fallen for the plan.

“Yes, and when I get you, you won’t be laughing anymore.” He grumbles, trying to keep himself from laughing as well.

“Alright then hot stuff try and bring me down.” You snap back playfully as he rises to his feet, “First one pinned has to run with Sam later, and we both know how much fun he is to run with.”

Bringing his arms up into a defensive position he readies himself for an attack, “Yeah, I’d rather not be his jogging buddy today. I mean it is raining outside, but I know you’d look real nice after a wet run.” Teases Bucky with a smirk.

“Touché you smartass.” His lips twitch into a grin as you ready your own stance. “Now let’s dance.”

#bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barns imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes #marvel imagine #marvel x y/n #marvel x reader #marvel x you #The Avengers #the avengers imagine #avengers x fem!reader #avengers x you

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lovee-infected · 4 years ago

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Macaroon anon I love you and how can I resist writing for such a great idea? I really wanted this piece to take place as Ciel was stuck in twst in my previous au but since I mentioned dorm leaders there it couldn't be really done...Rip

A twisted path ✨

~ Black butler x twisted wonderland ~

Feat : Mey-Rin , Bard & Finnian

Poor trio stay away in shock of not only his unexpectedly loud shout but also...eh...his appearance . Are they wrong or does this guy really look similar to master Ciel...?

Coming conscious still with his eyes closed , he hears some sounds around him:" He dead ?-""No I don't think he is, his chest is still moving" "Anyway what's this body doing hear at Phantomhive's mansion? If he's been stabbed or something it's going to be troublesome," "Na I guess this dude's just been really drunk y'all. Also...what's with the clothes ? Could it be that he's somewhat of an actor from nearby theaters ?" "Aye? Since when are the designs this messed up...- I guess we'd better get rid of it before mister Sebastian returns, maybe burry hi-"

Riddle freaks out as he hears this idiots wanting to burry him alive and immediately wakes up screaming at them to stay away.

Riddle on the other hand gazes upon what he just faced: a red haired haired maiden wearing a pair of glasses, a yellow haired boy with green pupils and a rather buff man with a toothpick in his mouth staring at him. " Ah- He a'live ! Man ya gotcha be more careful with drinking," the buff man chuckles. Riddle suddenly feels highly unsafe: Who are these people? And where am I? He's read NRC's maps enough to know that such a building is surely not a part of it , come along it's weird people. Was he kidnapped while asleep...?He pulls up his staff and starts threatening them with it , wanting them to immediately introduce themselves and explain what he was doing here- wherever it was-

Finnian tries to calm him down with a soft smile and a friendly attitude, but Riddle is strong at his point: He wants answers.

When he sees them all trying to calm him down with no explanations he gets mad : "OFF WITH YOUR HEADS!"

...What ? Wait-maybe try again:"Off with your-Heads!" ...Why isn't it working? Riddle stays still, the magic collars have to be around their neck but- they are not...?? There must've been a mistake: " Off with your heads - Off with your HEADS - OFF WITH YOUR HEADS DAMN IT-"

Mey-Rin, Finnian and Bard stare at their angry guest shouting nonsense and getting as red as a tomato, what is wrong with this guy..?

Riddle is furious and confused , what's the matter ? Is his magic blocked the same as that time Beans day? He doesn't know , and he doesn't like it

Riddle starts shouting at them asking what they've done to his magic and the poor guys just go...Huh ? Riddle keeps on getting redder and redder as if he's about to explode . He starts threatening them from reporting them to the head master to giving them to the official policies for kidnapping and neglecting his picture

Finnian then decides that maybe it's better to leave him to mister Sebastian and so : Picking up a huge branch and a striking it to his head , savage

Riddle passes out immediately whoops- maybe Finnian should have been softer-

They stay there gazing upon their... masterpiece . Finnian might have even broken his skull - Good god , what should they do now ? They must wait until mister Sebastian arrives ; But where is he now ?

Feat : Suma & Agni

"Pssssssst- Agniii...I guess he finally woke u-" " M- my prince , y-you sure that it was a good idea too bring a total stranger out of nowhere to our home ? I'd greatly appreciate it if you be more ca-"

Argh...what is with all noises around him ? He's told Ruggie a million times not to let anyone in his room whole he's taking a nap even if it's gonna be the grim reaper ; what are these brats doing here?

Leona rambles under lips and with a push he's awake : " Oi , you'd better know that I don't like having my naps ruined,"

Suma gasps at the sight of him being finally awake and tries to offer his unwanted guest a welcome hug which Leona rejects- Poor Suma

Leona isn't yet realizing what actually is going on , from not knowing that this isn't his room to the fact that he's now at more than 100 years ago in a whole different world ; ironic

Leona orders them to take this annoying conversation out of his room just to face Agni's locked expression : "Your room...?"

Taking a better look , Leona finally gets that this probably isn't his room and these people surely aren't from NRC

Sounds get echoed through his brain and he feels a small ache inside it . He rubs his head ...why does everything feel so strange ? Something is different ... could it be that he's still sleepy or..? Wait a second - Why can't he shake his tail ?

He immediately looks back to see if he's sit on his own tail but faces a terrifying scene : There is no tail . Is it cut off ????

and a newer fact flashes his brain : There are no ears either . But then how can he still here the sounds ? "P-please don't be", he begs . His hands shake as he brings them up to touch both sides of his head ; wishing not to find what he is looking for . And they are ! Human ears !A mild shiver is sent down his neck and he rushes to the mirror on the other side of the room just to face this nightmare with his own two eyes

He stares at the mirror with his eyes wide open and mouth as if he is going to shout . No...

Oh...nevermind . He has to calm down ; it's nothing but another fancy dream . He'll soon wake up and these will be all gone . Leona tries closing his eyes and cursing , wanting to wake up to sanity when he opens them again

Surprise : Nothing's changes . Two crappy brats still staring at him . Agni is now a bit suspicious but Suma on the other hand is really motivated : " Ahh~! Sorry if it's strange to sleep in the streets and wake up in bed- I just saw you laying there in a death like slumber and couldn't help but to bring you along ! Also , haven't we met before ? I'm pretty sure that I've seen your face somewhere before... Don't you happen to be from India ? "

Agni is really stressed out and keeps warning the young boy : " My prince ! He's now all conscious and fine , then I'd lead him out of he-"

"Prince , huh ?" Leona wasn't ever really interested in visiting ally kingdoms back at his home town so he barely got to meet any other princes , hm but to think that this cherishing child is actually a prince...man , the world has really changed

But he has no time for such games now , he has to find Ruggie or anyone else who may lead him out this insanity and return him his ears and tail

He asks for where he is - else than Suma's mansion - and the answer doesn't really do any help either . Where on the bloody hell is London ? And if these people found him laying in the streets when the heck did he even get here ? Well , doesn't really matter now , but where is NRC ?

Suma and Agni probably don't know where NRC is and Dire Crowley ? Suma wonders if this guy was the one who fooled him to buy a sick elephant which died a week after in india , but Agni is sure that neither him nor his prince have ever met a single soul named this

Leona is getting more and more pissed off wasting time chatting with these idiots so he takes his way out , ignoring Suma's begs for him to stay for lunch at least

He freezes just at the second he opens the exit doors and gazes upon the streets : Horses? carriages ? 19th century's clothing ? How long have these people been stuck in this lack of technology?

He feels like he now really needs to make a phone call but searching his pockets he finds both of them empty...those brats stole my-

He was close to getting hit by a carriage when someone shouts at him with a : " OUT OF WAY YOU SON OF A-"

He is now ready to get in a fight but a sound cuts him off : " LEONAAAA HELLP-!!!!!!" , this extremely annoying sound...what the heck is he doing here and : WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL HAS HE DONE NOW !!!????

Feat : Lau & Ran-Mao

Business tip nu 1 : Always keep calm , even if you end up losing all your magic powers in the surface without the possibility of returning to your original form or knowing where in the damn world you are : K-e-e-p-c-a-l-m

Thankfully , Azul's dope nature avoids him from going crazy during his stay in this...non-Twisted wonderland world

He had heard of theories explaining the possibility of other world's existence ; countless ones indeed . But to end up in one of them without any preparations ? He wasn't planning on that

Well nevermind , that cannot be helped now . let's look for a better way

Lack of facility , cultural deprivation and severe corruption ; is this how humans are ? No wonder the sea witch called them Poor unfortunate souls...

Enough with these people , he must now ignore all other disadvantages and take a look into beneficial sides of it...If he has ended up here , in this world and into this spot of the city there must be something linked to magic nearby ; even if he's surrounded by all these foolish people who haven't ever even seen real magic by their own eyes

Just as he's looking around , something catches his attention : a strange smell . Thanks to his family he's pretty good at following smells to their source and knowing what exactly they are : it's the pungent smell of Opium

He follows the smoke to its source and arrives to a bunch of stares going underground . A board is place next to the stares with something written on it : Opium Den

Azul isn't one to believe in superstitions but he is sometimes interested to take ambitious steps ; life sometimes brings you worthy surprises

Entering the shop , someone slightly grabs his arm . He turns his head to face a young, beautiful lady pulling his sleeve softly , eyes empty of any emotions . Without saying a word , Ran-Mao grabs his hat and coat and Azul thanks her , seems like he took the right path

His vision got a bit blurred as must of the air is filled with smoke , not that he isn't used to such atmospheres

" Why welcome to my place , sir . How may we service you today~ ? " a sound says from other side of the room . Azul turns back to face the source of all these smoke holding that young lady from before close , could she be her right arm woman or something ? She seems pretty obedient for one , which is nice

Azul introduces himself and takes a seat . He isn't going to get to his main point at the very first seconds ; he needs to make sure that he's come to the right person . He introduces himself as a businessman from a far away city , came to explore more of business tactics here in London . He offers Lau a small chat toward that , wanting him to give him more information on business if possible and return , he'd be given similar information about Azul's home town

While being considerably great at it , Lau isn't really interested in wasting time talking about business , all he ever cares in some sort of entertainment in whatever he does . Still , he agrees of playing this fake role for a short time . Although he knows that Azul isn't here for this either...

A few minutes pass and they both know that Azul doesn't really care to know how much a pork costs and either is Lau , so takes a serious step himself : " I see you're a man of business , Mr . Azul . I wonder what I you may be able to offer me in return ," Azul clarifies that he would get interesting information if he gives Azul good ones ; everything is clear and equal . "Then , I'm afraid that I've got not much to offer ," Lau sighs , but a small smirks appears of his lips : "But what would you say about some tea ? And maybe a small talk ? "

Lau isn't like others out there and that's pretty recognizable to Azul , but it doesn't make him the right person to trust either . He is continuing this conversation in hope of Lau leading him to the right person he is looking for , someone worthy of a greater contract . Lau lets out a sad sigh feeling sorry that he can't do much help , but he knows that who may do : A well-known friend , serving years working as a right arm man . Talented , well cultured , big on all issues including business : "I'm sure that you'll like him ,"

Well perhaps this thing's starting to work out for him : " Then by all means , lead me to this mister you speak of , Mr. Lau~" "With all pleasure . Bring him his coat and hat , sister " , Lau orders . Pleasure is always his first priority , but nothing would ever break rules of a contract ; He gives , he receives . Even taking him to Sebastian is counted but , he's already thought of that . This young man seems quite entertaining and when he first stepped into his shop Lau was expecting him , a spacial guest

Lau doesn't really care about superstitions , but still enjoys his ambitious steps . This guy had came to him just as expected and now , something about him tells Lau that getting him to Sebastian will bring him as well newer faces to meet...what an entertaining day it would be

Feat : Tanaka

Jamil is... about to lose his mind . Caught in a whole other world without a meaningful explanation of how he ended up here or why . Magic doesn't work and there is no certain way to scape this situation and make a return to NRC . But the worst thing about it remained certain : He is caught with Kalim

Why in the bloody hell does he always have to be hooked up with Kalim ? Parents forced him into it at childhood , headmaster orders to it at school and now , the world suddenly decides to abandon him together with Kalim ? If it's joke , that's a pretty lame one . Why does he have to live in the shadows of Kalim being the unworthy dorm leader ?

Now lost in the streets , not knowing where to go or who to contact , what a wonderful way to start a day

Kalim isn't liking it at all : dirty streets , loud and short tempered people , street fight and drunk men everywhere , the smell of death filling the air , this is horrible . Kalim is well aware of poverty and deprivation lasting for so long and even remaining until the very present day , but traveling back in time and space to face one of the most terrifying levels of it just isn't his thing . He feels sorry and odd at the same time : Is this how life behind of the walls of his royal castle looked like ? He wishes he could help it . He probably could if he was any linked to NRC right now

He keeps on telling Jamil how poor they look and wonder if there is a way to help...The world Kalim knows has elegant and colorful nights and days but this world...was all caught in a dead gray mist

Jamil doesn't say a word because he doesn't want to listen , Kalim can keep on daydreaming but he has to find a way back a.s.a.p . They can't leave Scarabia just on their own and everyone (including Kalim's Dad) must be really stressed out by now . He continues to look , but there isn't really anything helpful around them . People yelling at each other and smoking the shit out of themselves . Young ladies flirting as young men offer them a carriage ride and tourists staring at each and every building like they hadn't ever seen a place to live inside as if they've been living in a cave so far , huh

Jamil can no longer take it next to Kalim and eventually goes feral : " WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP !!?" He has no control over his words now , he's nervous , furious and freaked out . If he were to compare his mood to something similar he'd say the time he overblotted , just that he had his magic back then

Now Kalim as well gets into a fight with him . What the hell does this have to do with him ? Jamil has to calm down and be realistic unless they'll never find a way out ! Jamil states that if he grew up just enough to realize how terrible their current situation is , he would've had something better to do than showing mercy over some bunches of street rats

The two of them keep on arguing until someone cuts them of : " Hohoho young men ! What's with all these loud sounds ?"

They stop and turn back to face the source of this old , chill voice . Facing a tall , old man dressed in all black clothes which high-leveled servants would wear and a monocle , giving them a soft , calm smile

" Aa- nevermind grandps ! It wasn't like it seemed we were just talking ! Right Jamily ? " he says , putting a hand on Jamil's shoulder and giving a big , wide smile . "H-hey... don't call me that..." , Jamil doesn't like Kalim acting this chill ; but it is embarrassing to see that they actually called attention

"Hoho , better . Now tell me young men , could it be that you have a trouble ? You look awfully down ," Tanaka asks ; sounding just like a grandfather guiding his grandchildren

Kalim takes a look at Jamil , wondering if it's right to do what he's thinking of and Jamil in return , nods as a yes " Well sir , there you see we actually don't belong here yet to another-" Jamil cuts him off before he could mess the whole thing up : " -Another state , indeed ! We came here for some sort of a business trip and were supposed to be on our way back home by now but sadly , ran into thieves . Our families must be really worried for now and I doubt them being sure of us being hooked up here . We lost everything and have no way to contact anyone we know... only if someone nice enough could be found to help us with it right now ," Jamil dropped his head , trying to act as natural as possible . Kalim wants to remind him that this isn't right to lie someone who is trying to help them yet he wonders if he should let Jamil take care of this now , after all he was much of a worthier leader than him to be honest...

" That's so sad to hear dear boy , I'm sure that young master as well would've been really frustrated if he were here ," Tanaka replies . Oh ? Young master ? Jamil is now interested . Wherever this man came from , it can't be somewhere cheap , Jamil could tell . Leading them to a mightier source would be a better thing than just laying in the streets waiting for some miracle to save them right ? " Young master , you say ? " Kalim asks . " On the second thought , how about me introducing you to my master ? You're not much older than him I suppose , he as well needs to have more friends like you good men ," Tanaka says with a sweet smile . " That'll be so nice of you um , Mr...? " Jamil asks " Tanaka is fine young boys . And you? " " Jamil Viper ," " Kalim al Asim ! Glad to meet you Tanaka sir ! " Kalim says , bringing his hand for Tanaka to shake . Tanaka shakes hands with both of them and Jamil decides to make the process a bit faster : " I look forward to meeting this young master you say , Mr. Tanaka . It's always great to meet more men of culture ," Jamil sneakers . " Then by all means , follow me young men ," Tanaka says . With a sound of pop and some smoke , the tall man shrinks into a chibi version : " Ho , ho , ho ," " What the-!!!" Kalim panicks , no magic and yet this dude can shrink all of a sudden huh ?

" Ho ho," chibi Tanaka says before turning back and going to another direction . " I guess we should follow him," Jamil says . Kalim agrees and then , they're both following the chibi old man to the Phantomhive's mansion . Unaware of the two eyes watching them all this time : " Hihihi ~ they're quite interesting ,"

Feat : Grell Sutcliff & Ronald Knox

"Come oooon Ronald~ Shake your lazy ass and bring her along already..." " Oi senpai , that's mean ! This one's quite heavy-" "JUST SHUT UP AND DO THAT ! Don't you know it's rude to question ladies too much ? " " F-fine then , but at least give me a hand ! Have you even checked if she's dead !? " Heavy ? Dead ? She...? Vil isn't born to be disrespected like this . AND NOT A SINGLE SOUL GETS TO PULL HIM BY LEG WHEN HE'S ASLEEP

Vil immediately starts shouting at the Blondie , threating him that he'll regret it if he doesn't let go of him now . Ronald and Grell almost have a heart attack at Vil's chicken like screech which makes them jump

Vil snads up and glares at the two shinigamis : A really ugly female like one all dressed in red and a small blondie brat which looks like...eh..Azul ? Well nevermind ; doesn't matter now

What should he begin with ? Where he is ? Who these potatoes are and how they didn't recognize him being the leader of Pomefiore ? How perky they were to move him while asleep like this and ruin fabric of his overly expensive unforms ? Too many things to do

" Ah you're too loud ! My ears...Such an unexpected shout to hear from a man this hot I'd say..." Grell giggles . Vil's eyes widen , well of course he is beautiful but to be praised like that ? Ew , this is more of a insult ...

Vil decides to ignore Grell and get to the main point : Who they were and what they wanted . Grell smirks before preparing to give a 5 hour long opera show of shinigamis' romance but Ronald locks him on that point : They are shinigamis , they collect souls of the death , they had grabbed Vil because he looked a bit like the woman they were just going to collect yet didn't pay enough of attention to notice that they made a mistake , so they can all leave since they've got nothing to do with each other

Just before Ronald could get away Vil grabs him by collar , asking where they've brought him to . Grell clears that they just moved him by 30-40 meters from where they found him so it can't be really counted as bringing him to somewhere . Vil refuses to believe , wherever he is , it's way further than Pomefiore dorm or even NRC's accessable area ; that can't be . Vil threatens them one more time : " You refuse to tell , you'll end up dealing with the headmaster ," Grell and Ronald probably don't know who the headmaster is but Grell tries to take advantage : "Aaa? Is he one into punishing type ?" Vil is slowly getting annoyed by how weird this red one sounds to him ; To be honest he acts like an impatient porn star or something...

That's it , he's calling Crowley but uh , where is his phone ? Did he lose it ? Impossible . He'll never forget such an important thing to bring along ... Did these brats dare to steal his pockets....!? Vil asks them to give his phone and wallet back : now " Sir , you may like to know that human money brings no good for us and also , I'm afraid that I don't really know what you may mean by phone? " Ronald mumbles (Remember that phone isn't yet invited at their time ). Why don't this guy just let them go take care of their business ?

Vil hates it when people dare opposing him and doesn't ever take that lightly...who do these two think they are ? " Where is Night Raven College , answer or you'll face unpleasant consequences..." Is Vil challenging Grell ? Then Grell's more than ready to see what this human may have up his slave to speak to a shinigami like this : " And what may the consequences be...?" Vil gets tired , a small spell and this red ass bitch would be nothing but a toad , " I tried to warn you , you should've listened..."

Ahem , hello ? Magic ? Why isn't it working ? " Pffffffftttt- Lmao are you high or something man ? You just woke up !You'll be a great actor though I swear- You can drown in all that nonsense ," Grell laughs . " Well then hottie , I'm afraid we've got to go , see you when it's your time ~ " Grell turns to leave but Vil grabs him by collar . No one is leaving until they explain what the actual heck is going on : this place , the magic , everything

Grell on the other hand enjoyed flirting , but can't take being acted to like this . He pushes Vil back and gives him a psychotic smile , bringing up his chainsaw : " Wouldn't it be amazing if I cut those rushy tongue of yours at once ? fewer words , more of a male charm ," "Oh ?" magic may not work here , but they're not all Vil has got , he can still give this bitch guy a lesson without them : " Oi you two , this isn't really gonna workout-" Ronald mumbles but it's too late now -

Feat : Undertaker

At least he wakes up to a more suitable scene , or it seems so - His body couldn't move freely inside of this cage-like space . Is this a cuffin...? He has experience with them from his freshman year but to end up in one of them again ? Could it be that Crowley is planning on another fancy event like their first time ? Boy , he didn't like it anyway . He knocks the door trying to open it but if seems too heavy to be moved . Damnit- , he hears footsteps from the outside : " Someone there ? Why can't I open this ??" A sudden screech from out and the door slides open : " Ah thank yoUWAHAAAA- !!" Idia screams at the sight of the creepy stranger's smile at him ; he wasn't expecting this . Also , this place doesn't look like the mirror hall ? Who is this guy and where is this place ??

" Hihihi you weren't that dead I see , why waking up so soon though~ ?" , Undertaker giggles in his playful tone . Idia needs too many things to be explained to him but he just doesn't have the time , Crewel will burn him in acid if he gets any late for his class again and he doesn't care how weird his current situation is , he has to go

He gets out of the coffin and rushes to the door but Undertaker stops him there telling him not to show up out there so carelessly , which clearly confuses Idia . " Your hair...It is quite fascinating that curses remain strong even as magic gets blocked..." Undertaker adds . Idia is used to people judging him for his family misfortune but this one seemed quite...odd . He decides to ignore it and leave

" ~ Okies then I warned you , but you'll end up needing a real cuffin in a few minutes pwahahaaa-" , Undertaker burts into laughter and Idia leaves

" creepy ass old ma-" , Idia nags slowly before freezing as someone screams really-loudly right into his ears " HAIR ON FIRE , HIS HAIR IS ON FIRE !!" Before Idia can notice what is going on he's gained tens of gazes to himself , why are these guys all dressed so strangely...

" M-mummy is that a monster ? I'm scared..." " Stay away from our children you hellish creature ! " Idia freezes , critiques coming one after one : Demon , monster , Satan , Death . One option left : Run

Idia now has to run for his life , this world just isn't his thing : not at all . Even if it weren't because of being chased by a group of angry humans , do you think that he could last for even one day in this old fashioned zone ? No technology , no phones , no robots , no gummy bears , no wifi- He'd read about how different the world was before the invention of media and couldn't explain how thankful he was to never have to handle a second in the past world because he wouldn't last there for more than an hour- well he wasn't right about never ending up there but , he was 100% right about not lasting for more than an hour

Now there , he is running like he never has , begging his feet to help him this time out of any other time . Angry people screaming and bringing fire and weapons to destroy the evil

He tries to contact any possible source for help but : No magic - no internet . RIP Idia

Meanwhile Undertaker is chilling at his shop , his mind running over the cursed boy and now listening to the sound of the frightened people because of him , how pathetic , If only he had agreed to hide his hair through a safer way...sigh he should have listened to advises coming from someone who has been living within humans for years by hiding his identity as a shinigami as as his eyes... " My my , humans aren't the only fragile creatures I see..." creation can seem disturbing to him sometimes , and that's the best part with it

Back to Idia , he is slowly running out of breath . Well maybe this is the point where he has to give up ? He has long lived as a loser , bastard , procrastinator and wasted almost each and every second of his life ; well perhaps except Ortho , that was a nice work of him . Wish he was here too say goodbye . He isn't sure if his prayers would be accepted or not but it won't hurt trying : " Good gods who're told to be somewhere up there , I know that I wasn't best that I could be and I won't try to excuse my sins ; just please let it end fast, Ame- " he forgets his prayers as his guardian angel is standing just a few meters away from him ; oh have gods sent an identical twin - human version of Leona for him to be saved ? Well whatever now , he has no time if he's the original furry or not : "LEONAAAA HELLP-!!!!!!"

And yes , he is the original one ! He curses as he sees the population after Idia , what the hell is wrong with this world ? Idia hides behind his back and Leona tries to take control before they end up burning the two of them together : " You people , chill ," " Why you defending that creature ? He a a misfortune ! A demon !" others shout at this words in agreement . Leona laughs it off . He says that Idia is way too dumb for a demon and even if he is one , he's the type to scream his ass off when someone says "hi" . Idia doesn't know if Leona's defending him or not but he doesn't dare saying a word . Leona seems too busy dealing with the crowd and slowly , the argument topic switches from Idia to Leona ; who isn't afraid of punching some faces . The argument slowly takes over and no one (even Leona) realizes Idia sneaking into an alley saving his life . He feels a bit guilty for leaving Leona on his own but he'll be fine , hopefully

Thankfully the alley is deserted and he finally lays down to catch his breath , still panting heavily . He almost got killed today and can't get over it , but things were getting a bit comforting : "Meow~" several cats show up from the corners and Idia puts on a small smile . A white kittens comes closer and allows Idia to touch and comfort him . Idia wonders , how does their lives as a cat here feels ? do they as well get as scared as he was just now? . A few minutes later when Idia -and his cats- were chilling someone steps closer to them . Before Idia gets to run away , a tall , black and familiar face shows up and gives him a pretty calm smirk : " My my , I see you as well adore cats, could it be some part of our hellish natures ?"

"...J-Jade...?"

Feat : Ciel Phantomhive & Sebastian Michaelis

Let us be honest , it isn't going to be that bad for him , is it ? His current lifestyle at Valley of the thorns is nothing less than London's late 19th century , just maybe it had more of a natural theme . Well , no technology can be good news since he never really get used to it after all . London's atmosphere as well seem to be just his thing : Sometimes savage but calm , filled with tea parties and great ceremonies , an interesting back ground toward the royal family and in summary , Malleus's ideal theme

Well maybe except some things : 1) HORNS-ARE-GONE . His family treasure , the great heritage that proved him coming from the all great and respected Draconia family , now is gone 2) No need to mention that there is no sight of his fairy ears either- 3) Having his magic lost in this unknown world , he is now nothing different from a fragile human being , just as weak , just as empty , just as disgusting . Oh but our prince isn't totally left on his own here...

Unexpectedly , Phantomhive's mansion is serving a mysterious guest today , even though Ciel was against letting strangers inside the house . Sebastian insisted on being aware of the importance of hospitality as the Queen's watch dog , specially with special guests

Everything seems odd to Malleus , this world , this time , this people and...this master and butler . He is no fool , not even the foolishest of these humans would treat and cater strangers without wanting something in return , therefore he needs to keep his guard up . They shouldn't be aware of his actual identity even if they look deprived of any magic

Ciel is feeling awfully uncomfortable , who is this man ? And what the heck about him might have caught Sebastian's eyes ? This greedy demon wouldn't easily be impressed , so what could it be ?

Sebastian insists that it's how he should learn to treat everyone else if he's willing to be well remembered after death ; he pronounces the last word in a pretty deep , dark tone . Making it clear that how he'll finally die in a sarcastic way which teased Ciel

He decides not to have any argues with Sebastian on that point since he can act pretty cocky with stuff he gets stubborn over , so let's see what he's hiding up in sleeve this time . Though Ciel is suspicious of other stuff as well , this Mr... -whatever he is since he doesn't give them a name- looks like a pale - greenish version of Sebastian . Could he be another demon..?

Malleus refuses to give them a name due to possible risks , yet he has to admit that he's being taken care of properly . The room he's given isn't as big as the one in his castle , but is still considerable for something a stranger would be given . Other than that , anyone else he's met here so far seemed to be pretty chill , oh except this tiny child with a blindfold and he gets to be called young master ? He has to admit that he's impressed . To be in control of all this property when you aren't yet even tall enough to pick your favorite book from the shelf on your own

And there is another guy who is really...how to explain , is it some feeling of deja Vu or he really does look like Silver ? The guy is always talking to the snakes just as Silver talks to the birds and animals . If it weren't because of difference in eye color , perhaps Malleus wouldn't believe that he wasn't Sliver himself . " Your stay won't last much longer master , your friends are on their way here , says Donne ," Snake tells him . Malleus doesn't really know how to feel about him but his words comfort him for some reason...

Ciel says that he needs to check on the trio since they've been calling him all day so he heads to the front yard , leaving Sebastian and Malleus alone

Sebastian offers him some tea and Malleus of course sees no reason to refuse . Sebastian doesn't sit beside him because it's arrogant of servants to sit beside the guests , so he remains stood up . He doesn't bother starting a conversation with Malleus and he does know how to get him to speak . Malleus doesn't mind answering to...some of his questions . How he likes it here in London , if he needs anything else during his stay , but the last question made his eyes widen : Does he do feel any uncomfortable under the terms of not being able to use his powers ?

Malleus doesn't answer , he pretends that he didn't hear him and stares at the window . He is hoping it to help him ignore Sebastian , but what he sees isn't any better : Isn't that... Rosehearts laying there...??

Malleus has to go , not only because of getting rid of Sebastian at this point but to also check on his ally if he's alright or not : Did the butler know he too was here all the time ?

Sebastian just knows what was going on in his mind and wants better answers . Malleus stands up to leave but Sebastian takes grabs his arm before he could do anything : " No need to rush . We still have a lot to talk about , Mr. Draconia ,"

♦♥♠♣

Note for Idia's part : I was actually planning on Idea having his hair as well gone because , well , no magic no hair ? But that seemed too unfair for him lol

#twisted wonderland #twst #malleus draconia #black butler #Sebastian Michaelis #azul ashengrotto #leona kingscholar #Grell Sutcliff #jade leech #Vil Schoenheit #Jamil Viper #Riddle Rosehearts #Idia Shroud #Kalim al asim #Ciel Phantomhive #twst x Reader #twisted wonderland x black butler #twisted wonderland x reader #Undertaker

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miserablesme · 3 years ago

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The Les Miserables Changelog Part 8: 1997 Broadway 10th Anniversary

Hello, everyone! This is the latest edition in my attempt to chronicle all of the musical and lyrical changes which the show Les Miserables has undergone over the years. After a few consecutive editions focused on regional choices, we're finally back to official libretto distinctions. Specifically, this edition covers a substantial rewrite that occured in 1997.

To fully understand the circumstances in which this rewrite took place, it is useful to look at some background information. The original Broadway production of Les Miserables was definitely not its most popular production from an audience perspective. The cast tended to be judged as inferior to touring and international productions. Moreover, cast members often stayed in Broadway productions for very long time periods, leading many to question the show's freshness.

Consequently, there was a large-scale firing to the point that, in January 1997, every principal cast member was let go except for Christopher Innvar (Javert). For the next month and a half, the third national tour cast would perform on Broadway.

March 12, 1997 marked exactly ten years since the original Broadway production opened. To mark this occasion (and perhaps to direct attention away from the questionable ethics of essentially firing an entire workforce on short notice), a new cast would officially take over from the third national tour cast on this day. Not only this, but the show which this new cast would perform was freshened significantly (an update that would also be applied to all existing and new replica productions worldwide soon afterwards). The blocking was adjusted to give off more energy, the lighting was digitized and made more complex, the sound effects were made more realistic, the sets and costumes were refurbished and in some cases changed... and the libretto received many edits. Let's get into what actually was changed...

Oh, and as a side note, not all of the changes were made simultaneously. Most were, but a few small edits (mostly musical cuts) were made later in 1997. I suspect that, in acknowledgement of Cameron Mackintosh's reservations prior to the original London productions as well as a warning of what would come in a few years' time, those cuts may have been made in order to reduce overtime costs to crew members. That is only a theory of mine, however; please take it with a grain of salt.

Anyway, let's get our analysis started!

1997 Update #1

The first libretto change (in a sense) occurs during "Lovely Ladies". Granted, this is a change that had already been applied unofficially in the Broadway and West End productions; however, I'm not sure if it was ever used in the US Tour previously. Originally this was the lyrical sequence:

(SAILORS - simultaneously with prostitutes’ lines)

Lovely lady, fastest on the street

Wasn’t there three minutes

She was back up on her feet

Lovely lady, what you waiting for

Doesn’t take a lot of savvy just to be a whore

Come on lady, what’s a lady for?

(PROSTITUTES - simultaneously with sailors’ lines)

Lovely ladies, lovely little girls

Lovely ladies, lovely little ladies

Lovely girlies, lovely little girls

We are lovely, lovely girls

Lovely ladies, what’s a lady for?

The sequence was finally officially replaced with the following exchange (that was more or less invented for the 1992 UK tour):

(PROSTITUTE)

God I’m weary, sick enough to drop

Belly burns like fire

Will the bleeding ever stop?

(PIMP)

Cheer up dearie, show a happy face

Plenty more like you, dear

If you can’t keep up the pace

(PROSTITUTE)

Only joking, dearie knows her place

Interestingly, this officially version uses "Will the bleeding ever stop" as the West End and Broadway production previously did (as opposed to the 1992 "Will the bleeding never stop"); however, it also uses "you, dear" from the 1992 edit, as opposed to "you here" as had been used in the West End and Broadway productions. However, many individuals continued to sing "you here" for many years to come.

In "Fantine's Arrest", Bamatabois originally declares:

You've got some nerve, you little whore

You've got some gall!

The 1992 UK tour introduced the following variation, which had also been used in the West End production prior to this edit:

You've got some sauce, you ugly slut

You've got some gall!

The 1997 libretto combined these two versions into the following line:

You've got some nerve, you ugly slut

You've got some gall!

However, the original "Little whore" was maintained in the libretto as an alternate lyric. I do like how "little whore" actually rhymes with the preceding line ("I won't pay more"), though "ugly slut" does carry more threat. The West End production went with "ugly slut" after this libretto change, while other productions stuck to "little whore" for the time being.

Note that the rest of "Fantine's Arrest" plays out the same as it had since 1986, and did not include any of the other 1992 UK tour variations.

Right off the bat, "The Runaway Cart" is different in this version. The scene now begins with a sound effect of a horse's neigh, a nice little touch that brings one far more in the moment than one might otherwise be (particularly since modern audiences likely wouldn't immediately envision a horse when hearing about a crash). Moreover, the original yell of "Look out! It's a runaway cart!" has been eliminated in favor of more improvised remarks.

The townspeople's remarks mostly are consistent with the 1992 UK tour edit, with one exception. This is how the UK tour lyrics (which were also used in the West End production) went:

Look at that

Stay away

You’ll be crushed by the cart

Don’t approach

Don’t go near

It’ll fall on you too

Oh my god, who is that?

It’s Monsieur Fauchelevent

He is caught by the wheel

Oh the pitiful man

There is nothing to do

The version used on Broadway and in the US tour in the mid-90s was as follows:

Look at that

Stay away

You’ll be crushed by the cart

Don’t approach

Don’t go near

At the risk of your life

Oh my god, who is that?

It’s Monsieur Fauchelevent

He is caught by the wheel

Oh the pitiful man

There is nothing to do

The 1997 libretto cemented the scene as follows:

Look at that

Stay away

You’ll be crushed by the cart

Don’t approach

Don’t go near

It’s that load, it'll fall

Oh my god, who is that?

It’s Monsieur Fauchelevent

He is caught by the wheel

Oh the pitiful man

There is nothing to do

I really like how much clearer in meaning the changed line is, although a part of me still has a soft spot for the rhyme scheme of the UK tour.

The crowd's response to Valjean's plea for help has been changed. Since 1987, this is how it went:

Don't go near him, Monsieur Mayor

The load is as heavy as hell

The old man is a goner for sure

It will kill you as well

The 1997 libretto edited the penultimate line:

Don't go near him, Monsieur Mayor

The load is as heavy as hell

If you touch it the whole thing will fall

It will kill you as well

I suppose the revised lyric makes it clearer what exactly the danger is. On the flip side, though, the line "It will kill you as well" feels a bit less natural. Originally it meant "it will kill you as well as the other man who will be killed"; a fairly natural progression. Now, though, it essentially means "it will kill you as well as falling". This does make sense, but it doesn't really sound like a phrasing any real person would actually use.

The rest of the cart crash scene plays out as it did in the original version (not the UK tour version).

"Who Am I?" starts out differently right off the bat. These are the original opening lyrics:

He thinks that man is me

He knew him at a glance

The 1997 libretto uses these lyrics instead:

He thought that man was me

Without a second glance

The revised lyrics make ever-so-slightly more sense, since "knew him at a glance" implies a degree of correctness that obviously is false in this context. Having said that, I do slightly prefer the present tense of the original, since the fact that this false belief is continuous is integral to Valjean's dilemma. The revised lyrics give it a sense of the past that isn't really appropriate to the context.

Soon afterwards, a small lyrical edit makes the implications of the dilemma itself quite a bit different. Originally, after reflecting on the future employment of his works, Valjean repeated the same lyrics he sung earlier:

If I speak, I am condemned

If I stay silent, I am damned

The 1997 libretto tweaked the remark a bit:

If I speak, they are condemned

If I stay silent, I am damned

Only two short words are changed, yet the substance of his worry is completely different! Originally, Valjean's reservations are based primarily on how he would be viewed if he failed to provide his workers with the employment they need. Now, however, he is much more selfless, and is actually worried directly by their well-being. Much more appropriate given that Valjean is supposed to be such a redeemed man!

The West End production had once given Valjean the "You know where to find me!" line after "Who Am I?" and the Australian tour had given him the line "You will find me at the hospital St. John!" However, these were not official libretto remarks, and at least since 1987 he officially remained silent after his high note. This changed in the 1997 libretto, in which an optional line based heavily on the Australian tour one follows the number: "You will find me at the hospital!"

For the next five years, American productions generally would generally the line while, ironically given the production history, the West End show would not.

Since 1986 or so, the "Confrontation" number began with a bar of instrumentals, before Javert began his "Valjean, at last..." line. No more; the 1997 libretto has him begin singing acapella. Only during the second syllable of "Valjean" do the instrumentals start.

The next edit can be heard during the preamble to "Master of the House". A few lines are adjusted among the inn customers. Originally this is how the scene went:

Landlord over here

Where's the bloody man?

One more for the road

One more slug of gin

Just one more

Or my old man is gonna do me in!

The 1997 libretto made it as follows:

Where's the wretched man?

Landlord over here

One more for the road

One more slug of gin

Just one more

Or my old man is gonna do me in!

I suppose the change from "bloody" to "wretched" was probably intended to make the show more accessible to non-British audience, since "bloody" does not seem to be a word frequently used in America or other countries. (Weirdly though, Thenardier keeps his "always pissed as newts" line from earlier; one would expect the word to be replaced with "drunk" or something along those lines!)

The change in order of the first two lines in the excerpt I quoted strikes me as odd. The original sequence of lines allows "man" and "gin" to form of a sort of off-rhyme, something lost with the 1997 order of lines. Did the writers decide that the off-rhyme was so awkward that it would sound better if they just didn't try at all? Who knows...

What is probably this libretto's most significant change in the entire musical happens right before the "Waltz of Treachery". While the original Barbican run had a rather extensive Well Scene, since the West End transfer the "Waltz of Treachery" just began with Valjean and Cosette's humming duet to the tune of "Castle on a Cloud". A short but lovely little scene was added between Valjean and Cosette in the 1997 libretto:

(VALJEAN)

Hush now, do not be afraid of me

Don't cry, show me where you live

Tell me my child, what is your name

(INSTRUMENTALS)

(COSETTE)

I'm called Cosette

(VALJEAN)

(*spoken*) Cosette...

The usual humming duet immediately follows. This scene gives some much-appreciated context to the "Waltz of Treachery", and to Valjean and Cosette's relationship as a whole. Honestly it feels a little incomplete to me nowadays when I listen to the audio of pre-1997 performances of the show. Valjean actually meeting Cosette seems like such an important detail to include! John Caird agreed with me evidently. To quote page 143 of 1990's The Complete Book of Les Miserables:

"If ever there is an amended English version of the show he would like to reinstate the Cosette-Valjean meeting. 'It was beautifully written - one of the most moving scenes in the show,' he says. 'It was taken out for technical reasons, but the well scene was moving and could have stayed.'"

It's heartwarming to see that Caird got his wish. I do wonder what exactly those technical reasons were, and whether or not the revised staging may explain why it could finally be reinstated.

On the flipside, there is a noticeable cut after the "Waltz of Treachery". After Valjean's "There's a castle just waiting for you", the 1987 libretto has about sixteen seconds of instrumentals to the tune of the number, followed by a reprise of Valjean and Cosette's humming duet. This is in turn followed by about eighteen more seconds of instrumentals, which transition into the "Look Down" number.

The 1997 libretto removes the reprise of the humming duet. Now, after "There's a castle just waiting for you", the eighteen latter seconds of instrumentals immediately play, and "Look Down" begins right afterwards. Although this leads to a more energetic change of scenery, I must say that the Thenardier's inn segment of the show feels a bit unresolved without the closing recollection of "Castle on a Cloud".

After Gavroche's opening lyrics to "Look Down", there was originally a musical sequence which played and then was repeated twice before the argument between the beggar woman and the prostitute. However, the 1997 libretto reduced this part so that it is only repeated once.

The same number soon takes a cue from the original pre-Broadway script. After the exchange between the beggar woman and the prostitute, this was the original exchange (which was still being used in the West End production at the time). Each line is a solo, with the latter one being sung by a male and the other three by females:

When's it gonna end?

When're we gonna live?

Something's gotta happen, dearie

Something's gotta give

However, the Broadway production had changed it to an ensemble piece:

When's it gonna end?

When're we gonna live?

Something's gotta happen now or

Something's gotta give

The 1997 libretto brought it back to solo lines, once again with women singing the first three lines and a man singing the last:

When's it gonna end?

When're we gonna live?

Something's gotta happen now

Something's gotta give

I've already noted in the past that I like the scene better as an ensemble piece. Oh well... It also slightly bugs me that the amount of syllables so much less naturally given that the third line loses a syllable. As we'll get into in later editions of this blog, a lot of producers apparently agreed with me, because a lot of productions slightly edited the exchange!

A more subtle difference is audible later in "Look Down". Previously, the line "Something for a crust of bread in Holy Jesus' name" was sung by the ensemble along with the rest of the "See our children fed..." segment. However, the 1997 libretto changed it into a solo line sung by a single beggar woman (despite the rest of the segment remaining an ensemble piece).

This edit was made to account for a change in staging. Prior to 1997, Marius and Enjolras stood on the ground, and the beggars began surrounding them while singing the ensemble piece. It made since for the entire thing to be a group effort. However, since 1997, Marius and Enjolras instead stand on the second level of the set, where they sing their lines to the beggars down below. The beggar woman with the "Something for a crust of bread" line walks by them on the set's second level, explaining why she along sings the line now.

As a side note, the 1987 Australian tour had previously made this exact same lyrical change. This makes me wonder if that production made a similar staging change earlier.

In "The Robbery", after Thenardier's "No mistakes, my dears!" there is originally a bar of instrumentals before Mme. Thenardier starts singing. Post-1997, she starts singing immediately after Thenardier finishes singing his line.

A change in the music was made to "The Robbery" alongside a staging change later in the number. Prior to 1997, Thenardier's con job was staged with him standing with a cane and hiding his right leg, making him look like he was missing a leg. This strikes me as an odd holdover from the pre-Broadway lyrics, in which the actual substance of his plea reflects his missing leg. However, the 1997 staging made it so that he is sitting down while turning the crank on a music box. The instrumentals to this part of the musical were simplified and made more synthetic in order to sound as though they were coming from the music box. I am not a fan of this change at all; it's far too self-aware for me to take the scene remotely seriously.

A change to "Red and Black" that was already widely used before this point was solidified into the show. Instead of opening with the first chords of the number, it now officially opens now with the sting that was introduced in the 1992 UK tour and which was later adapted into Broadway, the third national tour, and most international productions. For many years post-1997, it can be heard in every replica production.

To quote myself from part five of this blog:

"If I’m not mistaken, this musical addition was placed in to account for a change in staging. Originally the number began with the barricade set sliding off-stage, revealing the ABC cafe set behind it. However, around the time of this tour the blocking was adjusted. Now, the turntable instead revolved at the beginning of this number, revealing the ABC cafe set on the other end of the turntable and allowing the barricade set to double as the walls of the cafe. I believe the opening sting was added to allow time for this slightly more elaborate staging."

An extremely subtle difference occurs later during "Red and Black". Originally, Enjolras sings:

The color of the world

Is changing day by day

However, since 1997 he instead sings:

The colors of the world

Are changing day by day

This is a tiny change, to the point that it took me probably a few dozen listens of both pre-1997 and post-1997 audios to pick up on the distinction. Small as it may be, though, it's a very welcome edit. Given that the song revolves around more than one color (to the point that both colors are literally in the title), I honestly find it baffling that the lyric was ever written in the singular, let alone that it managed to hold onto that version for over a decade!

"Lamarque is Dead" is edited so that its lyrics are now consistent with the 1992 UK tour ones, as well as West End performances after that tour. Originally the lyrics were as follows:

On his funeral day they will honor his name

It’s a rallying cry that will reach every ear

In the death of Lamarque we will kindle the flame

They will see that the day of salvation is near

The time is here…

However, the 1997 libretto made them into what the West End and UK tour productions were already using:

On his funeral day they will honor his name

With the light of rebellion ablaze in their eyes

From their candles of grief we will kindle our flame

On the tomb of Lamarque shall our barricades rise

The time is here…

I generally prefer the revised lyrics, as I've discussed in earlier editions of this blog.

"The Attack on Rue Plumet" contains a couple of edits. Originally, Thenardier sings to Brujon:

You shut your mouth

Give me your hand

Post-1997, he instead sings:

You shut your mouth

You'll get what's yours

This edit was another that was partially made for the sake of a staging stage. In the original blocking, Thenardier and the gang are trying to climb over Valjean's gate, and Brujon would literally be using his hand to help Thenardier out. However, the 1997 staging changes things so that the gang is trying to pick the lock. This is much less of a group effort for obvious reasons.

Additionally, the new lyric has slightly more threatening undertones, given its implications of either positive or negative outcomes depending on how helpful Brujon actually is.

Later in the number, after Eponine's scream, Thenardier's reaction takes some cues from the original libretto. Pre-Broadway, these were the lyrics (which were still used in the West End at the time):

Make for the sewers, don't wait around

Leave her to me, go underground

You wait my girl, you'll rue this night

I'll make you scream, you'll scream alright!

Post-1987, this was the sequence instead:

You wait my girl, you'll rue this night

I'll make you scream, you'll scream alright!

Leave her to me, don't wait around

Make for the sewers, go underground

The 1997 edit essentially combined elements of those two versions:

Make for the sewers, go underground

Leave her to me, don't wait around

You wait my girl, you'll rue this night

I'll make you scream, you'll scream alright!

So the lines remain in the post-1987 form, but they are ordered in their pre-1987 form. I've already mentioned that I prefer the 1987 ordering of things, though the 1997 version isn't bad either.

Compared to the first act, the second one has much fewer changes. The first one comes not until the "First Attack" sequence. Before 1997, this was the students' response to their first victory:

(LESGLES)

See how they run away

(GRANTAIRE)

By God, we've won the day

The 1997 libretto changed it to the following:

(LESGLES)

See how they turn and run

(GRANTAIRE)

And so the war was won

I admit I prefer the original lyrics to this one. Grantaire's revised lyrics lack the incredulous spirit of the earlier ones, and the almost narrator-esque out-of-the-moment quality to his post-1997 lyrics is grating.

Later, prior to "Drink with Me", Enjolras speech is slightly changed. Originally he declares:

We must be ready for the fight

For the final fight

Let no one sleep tonight

The 1997 libretto makes his words as follows:

We must be ready for the fight

For tomorrow's fight

Let no one sleep tonight

Although "the final fight" has a climactic air that "tomorrow's fight" lacks, I suppose it is more realistic that Enjolras would have no way of knowing whether there will be more to come after the next battle.

Grantaire's lyrics in "Drink with Me" are edited a bit. Since 1987, this was what he sung:

Will the world remember you when you fall?

Can it be your death means nothing at all?

Is your life just one more lie?

The 1997 libretto edited it into the following:

Will the world remember you when you fall?

Can it be your life means nothing at all?

Will your death be one more lie?

Not terrible, but in my opinion the previous lyrics were far more effective. It makes much more sense to me for one's life to be described as a lie than one's death. The original lyric implies that the students' deaths are for nothing, and that their lives are meaningless. I suppose that is still the message of the revised lyrics, but they strike me as a bit obtuse for my taste.

That's it for the edits in this part (unless you count the official addition of the "You raised my child in love" and "I'll lead you to salvation" variation in the epilogue, which had already been used worldwide for a few years anyway).

But this did not mark the end of the chapter of the Les Mis saga. As I've mentioned earlier, a few edits were made in later months of 1997. So let's look at:

1997 Update #2

The first variation that can be heard in this version occurs during "Lovely Ladies". The "God, i'm weary..." sequence is originally sung in exactly the same tune as the rest of "Lovely Ladies". However, this edit changed it into a slightly different variation of the tune. In my opinion this is a definite improvement. As I mentioned in a previous edition of this blog, while thematically the sick prostitute scene is more fitting than the scene it replaced, it can potentially feel awkward when it's the sole part of the song in its tune not to feature the phrase "lovely ladies". Putting it in a different tune makes its out-of-place vibe feel intentional. In a way, its slightly different sound cements the idea that the prostitute is sick and is not functioning in the same way she ordinarily would.

The first of a few cuts occurs before "Eponine's Errand". Originally, it begins with a few seconds of instrumentals before Eponine starts singing. However, starting with this edit, Eponine begins singing acapella. Not until her first verse is finished do any instrumentals come in. I slightly prefer the version with instrumentals, but it still works alright.

The next cut happens during the opening barricade scene to the second act. Originally, Lesgles' "They will do what is right" is followed by a few seconds of instrumentals before Marius sings his "Hey little boy..." line. However, this edit removed those instrumentals, meaning Marius starts right after Lesgles stops singing. Truth be told I've always found that scene boring, so I can't say I object to cutting it down by a few seconds!

The last cut occurs after "Dawn of Anguish" and before Gavroche's death scene. The "Drink with Me" reprise after the former number originally is followed by an instrumental reprise of the chorus of "Castle on a Cloud". This is then followed by the closing notes to "Drink with Me". However, this edit makes it so that the reprise ends quickly, going right to the ending notes of "Drink with Me" without any "Castle on a Cloud" chords. I definitely prefer the original; it feels so much more emotional and reflective. I've been told it also holds some context to the original book of Les Miserables, though I don't know much more given that I have not yet read the book.

That just about sums this part up! If I missed anything feel free to let me know, as my goal is to create a changelog as thorough and complete as possible. I plan on making more parts in the near future covering all the changes that have been made in the show up until this day (discounting concerts). Any feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated.

As a side note, both for this project and my own enjoyment, I want as complete a collection of Les Miserables audios as possible. I already have most of what’s commonly circulated, but if you have any audios or videos you know are rare, I’d love it if you DMed me!

Until the turntable puts me at the forefront again, good-bye…

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whatareyousearchingfordean · 4 years ago

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Happiness Continues

Part 1: The Conception

Summary: Y/n has been feeling stressed with moving and big things happening at work. After a stupid argument with her husband, they both find a way to help her blow off some steam.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 3.7K+

Warnings: Language, verbal argument, sexual tension and teasing, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

Author’s Note: Now it’s time to officially dive back into the lives of my favorite idiots. Can’t wait to go on this journey with you guys again. Special shout out to my constant hype woman @waywardbeanie who willing squeals with me all the time and my beautiful beta @emoryhemsworth I couldn’t do it without all of you too, so please, let me know what you think. Feedback is golden! xoxo Alex

Catch up with the series masterlist and then check out Alexandra’s Library for more by yours truly!

The highway whizzed passed outside her window as she made her way home. Y/n had one hand on the steering wheel as the other rubbed small circles into her temple. It was a Sunday after all, and she had to go into the warehouse. Et Cetera was working on launching a new skincare line, and one of the new machines had caught fire. It was just the icing on top of her already tipping cake. It felt like the only thing she had been doing for the past few weeks was putting out fires, whether it was at work or at home.

The only thing getting her through the current shit storm that was today was the Memorial Day barbeque celebration at Jared and Gen’s later. Well, actually it was starting about now, but she needed to get home and grab her bathing suit before she could go anywhere. She was pissy that work was making her late, but she had to try and remember that it would all be worth it once the line launched.

As Y/n pulled into the driveway of her and Jensen’s home, she could see the garage door was open, his black Land Rover pulled out and ready to go. Y/n replaced its spot inside with her car, jumping from the cool cab into the sweltering heat of Texas.

Y/n went for the door leading to their mudroom before remembering that the hall was packed tight with boxes, ready for the movers to come and whisk them away. She made a detour back down the drive and into the house through the front door.

The television played softly somewhere in the background and Y/n assumed Jensen was on his ass in front of it, considering that was where she often found him nowadays. He was enjoying his time off a little too much, but after fifteen years, she couldn’t say he didn’t deserve to. She stopped to take off her heels before venturing further inside, carrying them and her purse in one hand.

“Jay?” She called out, hoping to find her husband ready to pack the car and go. But as she entered the kitchen, the cooler sat open on the floor, empty of anything, even ice. The woman bit her tongue before moving on towards their bedroom, the sound of the television growing as she neared.

Passing by his home office, she stopped short, peering through the cracked door. Inside, the room looked as it had been untouched. The books were still lining the large shelves and his desk was strewn with papers and various contracts.

The sight was all she needed to boil over. Granted, she didn’t have a far way to go considering having to go into work on Sunday had already riled her up. Y/n chewed on the inside of her cheek as she stormed into their room, finding Jensen perched on the edge of the bed. He had their beach bag seemingly packed already behind him, but it was no help to him now. His wife was already steaming.

“Hey honey,” he smiled, the grin fading as she stalked passed him without a word. Y/n tossed her heels into their nearly empty closet before continuing to their bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Jensen cocked his head to the side as he stared after where she had disappeared. He knew when she left this morning she was in less than a stellar mood, but he was, unfortunately, completely clueless as to what had her in a mood now.

“Babe?” He shut off the television and went over to the door, rapping his knuckles against the wood lightly. “Are you okay?”

“Not now.” Her voice was soft from the other side, a slight echo to it as it reverberated in the empty bathroom.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” He tried the handle of the door, surprisingly finding it locked. His brows knit together, as his wife never locked the door on him. “Y/n/n?”

“Don’t,” the door swung open then, revealing her now sans the suit she had gone into work in, and only in her panties. “I cannot talk to you right now.”

“What the hell did I do?” Jensen followed her as she pushed past him, pulling her bathing suit from its place in her drawers and exchanging her panties for the bikini.

“I have been asking you for a week, a week Jensen, to pack up your office, and this morning I have to go into work to deal with an emergency. I figured that'd be the perfect time for you to get it done, but no! You couldn’t even be bothered to fill the damn cooler for this party!”

Her husband backtracked, blinking at her sudden outburst. “It takes two seconds to fill the cooler, I was waiting until you got home, and my office will take no time at all.”

“Jensen, the movers will be here tomorrow. Tomorrow!” She repeated for emphasis as she pulled a tank and a pair of shorts over her swimsuit. “And we have a party to go to. Are you gonna get all of that done before ten in the morning?”

“I have time. They have plenty of other things to move first.”

Y/n clenched her fingers into a fist before relaxing them with a deep breath. “I don’t understand why you couldn’t have done it this morning or even yesterday. Why do you insist on making me more anxious than I already am?”

“Oh, come on. You know I don’t do that on purpose. I’m sorry that it’s not helping you, but it’s all going to be okay,” he tried, his apology only ticking her off more than she already was.

“Whatever, I’ll just get over it. Come on, we have a party to go to.” Her tone was clipped and Jensen knew he was still in the dog house. But he also knew his wife well enough to know now was not the time to push her. The two of them could talk about it later.

He left her to finish getting ready and went to pack the cooler with beer and water and loaded it in the car. Y/n followed him out of the house not even a minute later, their swim bag over her shoulder. The couple climbed into the car in silence, and that’s how they remained the whole drive to Jared’s.

All the other guests had arrived already when they pulled into the driveway. Jensen sighed as he watched his wife jump out of the car without a word. He hit the steering wheel with the heel of his hand, hoping that her nosy family didn’t pick up on the anger rolling off of her.

He unloaded the cooler and dragged it along behind him, though the garage and out to the poolside. Setting down under some shade, he wasted no time in reaching in and cracking open a bottle of craft beer.

“What did you do?” Jared’s voice had him nearly choking on the fizzy liquid as it went down his throat. He didn’t even hear his brother-in-law come up behind him.

“What makes you think I’ve done something?” Jensen knew he was being far too defensive, but fuck Jared and his perceptiveness. He had known this would happen.

“Uh, you two didn’t walk back here hand in hand forgetting there are other people in the world.” Jared had that inquisitorial look in his eye, the same one that nearly had Jensen shitting his pants when he and Y/n had been running around.

“Okay, first off, we don’t forget there are other people around. And secondly,” Jensen sighed before continuing, “she’s just stressed and taking it out on me.”

“Uh-huh, what did you do?”

“I didn’t pack up the office this morning when she had to run into work, so sue me.”

“Ah, dude, the movers are coming tomorrow.” Jared wrinkled his nose, but Jensen could see the glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

“I swear to god, you need to go somewhere else, away from me.” Jensen shoved his friend's shoulder, causing Jared to burst out laughing as he sauntered away. The actor shook his head as he reached for another beer to bring his wife.

As he made his way further into the backyard, he found Y/n sitting at the deck table, having already discarded her tank top. She was chatting with her sisters-in-law, a smile on her face until she noticed him walking her way. But she didn’t make a move to stop him as he neared, instead accepting the beer from him and leaning into his touch when he kissed the crown of her head. It was her way of telling him that she was okay, she only needed a little time, and he could accept that.

What he couldn’t accept was her blatant teasing throughout the day. Now, he knew she was pissed at him, but she was playing a very dangerous game right now. It started out innocent enough when she had asked him to rub sunblock on her back. She’d laid out along the lounger and Jensen had knelt beside her, rubbing the cream into her skin. It was the small moan she let out as his fingers dug into her muscles that had his breath hitching in his throat. She was careful to keep it low enough that only he would hear but loud enough to set him on edge.

Her next trick came in the form of flaunting herself in front of him, over and over again. Jumping into the water right in front of him and coming out to lean down for something, giving him the perfect view down her bathing suit. Jared knocked him upside the head one time when he caught Jensen staring and then adjusting himself, quirking an accusatory eyebrow up at his not so subtle action. Jensen supposed he deserved it, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He finished God only knew what number beer as he glared at her retreating figure. It was clear to him that her actions were no accident now, she knew exactly what she was doing.

It wasn’t until the watermelon incident that he knew just how much she was riling herself up in all this too. Jensen was in the pool with the kids, having fun tossing the boys in the water between him and Jared. The girls were readying the food for dinner, and Y/n had decided to steal a piece of watermelon. His wife sat down in the chair, biting into the soft flesh of the melon. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as the juice dripped down her chin and landed on the swell of her breast. Y/n made eye contact, smiling at him as she wiped it away with her finger and placed the sweet liquid on her tongue, sucking her finger between her lips for a moment too long. He had to fight back an eye roll, instead deciding to narrow his eyes at her, his tongue licking along his lip and pulling it between his teeth. It seemed to do the trick as he noticed the subtle way she clenched her thighs before crossing her legs. Now he had her right where he wanted her, all primed for the perfect payback.

“What are you up to?” Gen appeared next to Y/n as she watched the interaction between the couple.

“I’m eating watermelon.”

“And making a mess.”

“That’s one of the joys of eating watermelon in your suit, you don’t have to worry about where the juice goes.” Y/n turned away from her husband’s heated stare to look at the small brunette next to her.

“Okay,” she raised her hands up, “I do not want to know.” Gen backed away from where her sister-in-law was laughing. No, she really did not want to know.

Her last harebrained scheme to get her husband going came as the night was coming to an end and she had more alcohol coursing through her veins than was necessary. The sun was disappearing behind the trees and the boys had lit a bonfire. Jensen found a spot on one of the loungers near the fire, his long legs crossed at the ankle in front of him. Y/n came out of the house behind him with his sweater hanging off her shoulders, that glint in her eye still present as she walked over to where he was.

“You have the bug spray?” She asked him politely.

“Maybe,” he tilted his head at her as she looked around him for it. Spotting it on the patio below, she reached over him, placing her hand for balance on his thigh. Jensen grunted as she stretched across him and snatched the spray bottle, watching her every move. As she moved to stand back up, a devilish smile crossed his features before he grabbed her wrist and caused her to stumble into his lap.

“Don’t use too much,” his voice was nearly a growl as it reverberated in his chest.

“Never, dear,” she replied, skimming her supporting hand across the bulge in his swim trunks as she went, feeling her husband up.

Y/n had to take a deep breath as she walked away from Jensen, the buzz from her many drinks was making her brain fuzzy and needy for her husband. Her plan hadn’t been to wind herself up along with him, but she should have known better, that two could play her little game.

After applying the spray, she sat down across the fire from her husband, Odette choosing her lap as her resting place as she made her rounds through the adults. Y/n helped her make a couple of s’mores on the fire before handing her off to her father as she headed inside for a mixed drink from Gen’s fridge.

The air conditioning caused pimples to rise on her heated skin as she entered the home and took off her sweater. Y/n stumbled slightly as she crossed the threshold inside, the numerous drinks of the day taking hold of her brain. The day wasn’t over yet, and she was determined to slip in at least one more.

By the time she reached the fridge, she heard the door behind her opening and closing again. She paid it no mind as she pulled the juice and soda from the fridge, turning on her heel and bumping the door closed with her hip.

“I know what you’re doing,” his growl had her nearly jumping out of her skin, the bottles in her arms tumbling ever so slightly before she clumsily regained her grip on them.

“Jesus.” Y/n set the bottle down on the island in the kitchen, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. Jensen stepped closer to her, invading her personal space, and squaring his shoulders to make himself even bigger than he already was. He knew just how much it made her weak in the knees when he displayed his size difference over her, and he was using that knowledge to his advantage.

“Come on babe, you can’t play me.” His voice was low, the sound of it reverberating deep in his chest, sending shivers down her spine. “I’ve been watching you clench your thighs all day.”

“I—” The syllable barely slipped from her lips before his hands were on her, dragging her down the back hall and into the dark laundry room. The soft glow of the moonlight and a far off street lamp illuminated the room just enough for them to see each other.

Jensen pushed her body against the dryer as he closed the door behind them both. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the low lighting, giving him enough time to lift her onto the machine and slot himself between her open thighs.

“I’m still pissed at you,” she murmured as he dove into her neck, placing soft open-mouthed kisses against her sensitive skin.

“So you’re torturing me then?”

“You tick me off, I tick you off. I think it’s only fair.” Her words were a whimper on her lips when Jensen nipped against her collar bone. Y/n ran her hands up his bare back, his skin still heated from the Texas sun. The woman could feel his muscles rippling under her fingertips as he ground his arousal into her core.

“Mmm, don’t think that’s how this works,” Jensen stepped back from her, her hands falling to her sides to catch herself from falling from the machine. Her chest rose and fell with a deep breath as she tried to calm her hammering heart. “See, I think now’s the time to show you who’s really in charge here.”

Y/n bit her lip as she looked at her husband up and down. Y/n loved this side of him, the small upturn in his lips sent heat pooling deep in her stomach. Without breaking eye contact, she reached behind her, untying her bathing suit top and dropping it on the washer next to her. She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he fought to keep his composure, but his wife knew him well enough to see the way his tongue peeked out to wet his lower lip. He was on the brink of breaking, and she had just the idea of how to push him over the edge.

“Then show me,” she purred, sucking two fingers between her lips before disappearing her hand into her bathing suit bottoms. Jensen moved like lightning, his fingers wrapping around her wrist and pulling her hand up near his face.

“No time for that, baby girl.” Jensen dropped his grip on her, moving to pull her bottoms from her body. Y/n lifted her hips to help him and Jensen placed the barely-there material with the other piece of her bikini. He took back his place in between her legs, attacking her mouth with fervor. Y/n could taste the beer he had been drinking all day on his lips, the taste all-consuming of every other flavor she so loved of her husband, but she didn’t care at this point. She’d been trying to rile him up all day, in turn doing the same thing to herself, and now she wanted the release she knew her husband could provide her.

He had one hand on her hip and the other was cradling the base of her skull, keeping her as close to his body as he could. The soft moans escaping her body only drove him crazier than he already was. Y/n ran her nails down his back, slipping her hands underneath the elastic of his bathing suit and squeezing the taut muscles of his ass.

“Fuck me, please,” she begged, far past caring for any decorum at that moment. He already had her naked and wet in her brother’s laundry room, her whole family just outside enjoying a bonfire as the night came to an end.

“God, anything for you, baby,” Jensen murmured against her lips as she moved her hands to pull his erection from its confines. Y/n guided him to her entrance, a collective sigh falling from their lips as he bottomed out inside her. He stilled as her body adjusted to him, his forehead dropping to her shoulder as he breathed deeply. A surprised gasp popped from her mouth as he pulled out and fucked into her in one swift movement before easily finding his rhythm.

The laundry room filled with the couple’s collective breaths and the soft creaking of the machine she was placed on. The air grew thick around them as they both frantically chased after their release that they had been building up all day. Y/n’s hands were roaming across the heated skin of Jensen’s back, looking for purchase anywhere she could.

Every muscle in her body was clenching as he drove himself home time and time again. “Jay, fuck—” She wasn’t sure what she was asking for from him, all she knew was that she was almost there.

“I know honey, I’ve got you.” His voice was low, rumbling deep in his chest as he licked over the shell of her ear. Everything about him was invading her senses, making her forget anything but her husband. Jensen adjusted his hold on his wife, giving himself access to rub tight quick circles to her clit. Before she could react to his touch, she felt her body falling, every muscle shaking around him. Her orgasm pulled him into his shortly afterward, his hot seed coating her walls as his cock twitched inside her. Jensen shuddered under her fingertips, his shaky breaths like music to her ears. Her husband fell into her chest, nuzzling his nose into her collar as he waiting for his breathing to even out.

“Someone’s gonna come looking for us,” Y/n chuckled as she combed her fingers through his hair. She could feel his smile against her skin before he huffed out a breath.

“Yeah, and I really don’t feel like being murdered by your brothers tonight.” Jensen placed a kiss to the underside of her jaw before standing up and separating himself from her. He adjusted himself quickly before grabbing her suit for her. Y/n struggled to get the wet garment back on, needing the help of her husband to straighten the material back out.

Jensen peeked out the door into the dark hallway to ensure the coast was clear before they exited the laundry room. He slipped his fingers between hers and pulled her along with him and back out to enjoy the fire.

“Well, well, well, look who is holding hands again.” Jeff piped up from the other side of the fire. He had his youngest dead asleep in his lap as he chuckled at his baby sister.

“Oh,” Y/n laughed as Jensen fell back into his original seat, pulling his wife down with him to sit across his lap. “Can’t stay mad at this face for too long.” Leaning down, she pinched his chin between two fingers and brought his lips to hers, the couple both smiling into the kiss.

Part 2: 5 Weeks Pregnant

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jitter-bug · 4 years ago

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Just Like Me

Taglist: @artemisfowl11

Nines x Reader (Detroit: Become Human)

A/n: Did I hear costumes with a plot twist? And 10x scary???👀 so that the request wouldn't be too short ???🔫👀 I certainly fuckin' did. This one is too long. Sorry for rush. I love you :') plz enjoy(plz) I have so many request. And I am getting around to all of them. So don't worry for anyone that's waiting for your request, they will get done I promise! (Plz don't hurt me--)❤ enjoy- p.s I also had a hard time choosing the costume. I wanted something race neutral because as a person of color myself. There's not many couple costumes out there, that...you know. So 😌 uh. I had to run off a limb here for all my POC readers. (Gang gang 😩) (give me feedback if you any more of this, I know some people messaged me about continuing Fear. I don't do series. But I'll do em' we lit over here😩😪💅) p.s.s I edited it to gender neutral, so sorry for any errors-- (donthurtme)

"What do you mean, no?" The defeated tone of the detective echoed through the bullpen. Arms crossed as they stared at Hank. He was sitting at his desk. A hand placed on the desk as he stared at the terminal. In a way so he wouldn't have to stare at the perplexed expression of Y/n.

"Kid. I'm too damn old to be dressing up in costumes." Was his reply.

Y/n had woken up that very morning. An idea engraved in their brain like their body threatened them to remember it and not let the wonderful idea go.

The DPD was throwing a Halloween party. Which was really a celebration for Chris, he was finally promoted to being an official Detective, and for his celebration. There would be a themed party. Considering the fact that Halloween was creeping in around the corner. Y/n soon thought that they wanted to wear a costume, with someone that is. They thought sharing laughs or even going to the party dressed as characters would be fun and yet entertaining. Their first thought was Hank. But, he undoubtedly shot the idea down. And declined. Hank saw the unamused expression on their face when he tore his gaze from the terminal. Their fist was planted on his desk. As their hand was on their hip. Their eyebrows furrowed. Giving him a look that he was used to seeing when they helped him speak with suspects in the interrogation room. Though, their expression was not as hard and more so serious.

Connor, who was sitting at his desk. Across from Hank. Stared between the two. His LED teetering back and forth from yellow to stark red.

"Go ask Gavin." Hank brought up the name that seemed alien to him as he scoffed slightly at his name. Y/n quickly lost their expression before shaking her head. They couldn't say Y/n and Gavin were enemies. But they haven't interacted with each other to a point where Y/n would see themself asking him to join them on their dress up crusade.

"No." They replied. Hank has been staring at the ceiling. Arms crossed. Once hearing Y/n once again. He landed his gaze back onto them. His index finger tapping his arm.

"Go ask your partner."

Nines stared at Y/n. The two staring right through each other, but Y/n could feel themself crumble under his steel gaze. His eyebrows furrowed slightly. In an attempt to see through Y/n.

Nines originally was Gavin Reed's partner. Until Chris was recently promoted to a Detective and made to be Gavin's partner. Which pulled Y/n from Hank and Connor, into being Nine's newest partner.

Before then. They hadn't really interacted with him. Occasional greetings and ludicrous jokes between Y/n and Gavin. In which the rk900 ignored, he never cared to learn much about Y/n- or anyone at the station at that. He was reserved, observant, stern and very stoic. He...lacked certain things other deviant androids had.

Emotions.

People around the prescient knew about him. But never spoke to him, reasons being his lack of expressing himself gave people the assumption that Nines was genuinely just a rude android. Which...Y/n could see why. He didn't tolerate childish behavior, at all. Rarely participated in any outings the station threw, such as celebrations if someone was promoted. Birthday parties. Or just a genuine outing to celebrate and catch up with one another. Nines was always at the station, he - In a way deemed to separate himself from others. His eyebrows were always furrowed. In a way to resemble a scowl of some sort...which he always did.

Of course, Y/n could somewhat tolerate him, once they were paired together, Nines was non-stop pestering Y/n with things they needed to get done, things that weren't done right. He always pointed out the imperfections and mistakes rather than the good. Y/n couldn't say they were exactly friends with the rk900. He made it hard for it to be anything other than being partners. But, today was the day, Y/n decided it would be best to try and find a way through his cold exterior.

Nines didn't say anything. Y/n held her hands behind her back. The slightest smile trying to make its way onto their face. "So...I was thinking."

They started. They didn't feel nervous. But rather awkward from the sudden request. Nines didn't say anything. Instead keep his arms behind his back as Y/n slowly sat down on the desk. Planting their hands on their knees. "I was thinking, maybe me and you should go to Chris's celebration together tomorrow night, you know. As partners? Amigos? Buddies?" Y/n reached up. Placing a half-heartedly punch on Nine's shoulder.

"And. You know. Dress up? Costumes? I'd think you'd enjoy it. You know, you've been really working your heart out for these past few weeks Nines, and I think maybe you would like a break. You know, wind down." They explained. In their head. The explanation was fool-proof. Nines had been working a lot. In fact. The whole station was. With the new cases of Red Ice popping up around Detroit. Everyone had constantly been on their toes.

"I'm incapable of getting tired, Detective." Nines replied. He turned to fully face Y/n. His arms that were once behind his back, now by his side.

Y/n felt themself run into a dead end.

"I know that Nine's I'm not stupid." She muttered. Instead of replying. He only stared at her. Blinking once, that was so it took. Y/n could tell what he was thinking. They sneered.

"That's not funny, I'm serious."

"My apologies. I was unaware I was making a joke--"

"Anyway!" Snapping their fingers to get back on track. Y/n sighed. Rubbing their temple before looking back at Nine's form.

"If. You go to the party with me, and agree to wear a costume with me. I promise I'll stop fooling around on the field." They tried to compromise watching as Nine's was already turning away from her to walk over to his desk.

"I'll even stop making those lame ass jokes for an entire week. I can't say for..forever, But I mean a week has to be at least decent." They spoke up. Raising their voice so he could listen.

"A month." Nines said. His back turned from them. But Y/n could see him grabbing stacks of papers and placing them in their designated manilla folders. Y/n stared at his back. Eyebrows furrowed as they tried to piece together what he meant, the rk900 seemed to be aware of how perplexed she was.

"You'll focus on the assigned case you have, without constantly getting distracted, for a month. If you can agree to that. Then you've found yourself someone to go to the party with."

He explained. Y/n jumped slightly, the excitement shot through them like electricity, sparking them to life. This was new! Certainly new!

"Wait, are you serious? Oh my god!" They squealed. Kicking their feet so hard Y/n was afraid their shoe would fly off, flying across the room. As funny as the scenario might sound, Y/n was too distracted with the offer to worry about anything else.

"1 month?" They asks.

"1 month." He repeats.

"I mean...what about 2 weeks?" They bargained. A month, where they couldn't bullshit around at work. It felt like a sin to Y/n.

"1 month."

"But...Nines that's too long." They tried to whine. But Nines turned around. Holding the folders in his hands.

"1 month." He repeats.

"2 weeks?"

"1 month."

"....3 weeks?"

"1 month."

"No! Come on. 2 weeks. Take it or leave it!" Y/n shoots their hands in the air. Drastically expressing their distress. But Nines didn't seem to show an ounce of sorrow or care for the matter.

"Do I hear 2 months?"

"Okay, no! 1 month!"

With what Y/n assumed would be the end of the discussion to Nines. He nods.

"Okay then. Now. What is it that you have planned?"

"Okay. So. I think maybe we should do something scary. 2 years ago. Me and Hank dressed up as clowns, and scared the hell out of Gavin. It was hilarious." Y/n absently spoke. They searched through their phone for ideas that may spark interest in them. Deciding on creating something new and from scratch.

Nines was busy placing items in Y/n's bag so the two could leave the station and do whatever it was Y/n had in store.

Nines zipped up the bookbag before turning away from the desk to face. Only to find them already examining his form.

The yellow soon took the place of the blue on his LED. His eyebrows furrowed.

"What?" He asks. Y/n hummed.

"I was thinking of what would suit you." They replied. As they spoke Nines handed Y/n their bookbag, which they thanked him before slipping it on over their shoulders.

"We can head to my house and see ideas from there." Y/n started. Adjusting the straps onto their shoulders as they took several steps forward towards the exit. They didn't have much time from now till tomorrow night, the gears in Y/n's head were turning. What should they do? What should they dress as for their costumes? And most importantly. Make sure Nines had a good night out for his first ever outing.

Y/n placed the phone back in theirpocket. Before reaching over to unlock the door. They felt Nines walk behind them, swatting and flicking their hand away from the latch to open the door.

"I'm driving. You get to the passenger side and think about what your plan will be." Nines spoke. Y/n flinched their hand away from the latch.

"Ow, okay, okay--" they made their way around the car to the passenger side. Y/n was positive the only real reason he wanted Y/n to sit out on driving was because last time they were behind the wheel, a favorite song of theirs that they vaguely remembered from some time ago came on the radio station when they were patrolling the downtown area of Detroit.

All Y/n could say was how Nines was extremely pissed with their screeching out lyrics that he wasn't paying attention to. More of Y/n's abrupt screaming. Which is why he didn't want them touching the wheel while he was in the car with them.

Slipping inside the car. Y/n closed the door. Hearing from their opposite side that Nines was in the car as well.

"Keys." He spoke up. Y/n automatically reached in their dress pants pockets in search of the keys. Once feeling the cool metal against their digits. They handed them to Nines. Where as he started the car.

Y/n slide off their bookbag. And turned to toss it in the back of the car. Where a paper bag was seen lazily balled up on the floor. Seeing the Red Ice cases increased exponentially, there were many stakeouts that Y/n and Nines were assigned to. Sitting out in the car for long periods of time did spike up an appetite in Y/n's stomach every once in a while. Of course, Nines scolded them for not eating before arriving on the scene, but that didn't stop them from getting food.

Once situated and Nines driving down the street. Y/n slipped their phone back out.

"So. How do you feel being a butcher?" They asks. Nines stared at the road. Silent for a moment as he contemplated what Y/n said.

"A butcher..? Odd, how would that in any way be a good costume?" He asks. Y/n placed their phone their lap.

"Bloody butcher. You know. Kill people? Chop chop? Blood. Chains and all that jazz." They replied. Flipping through the many photos of cheap costumes that would wear out in later than a few months if they were to purchase one.

"I can't make a firm decision on what to wear. You do that." He spoke up. Y/n hummed in acknowledgment. As much as they wanted Nines to choose for himself. He often had a hard time doing so. Of course he did things his own way, but only for a purpose of doing his job. Completing his mission.

"Well then. Butcher it is," they replied.

Once making it into the warm house that groped around Y/n with its comforting warmth. Y/n dropped their bookbag on the ground by the couch. Plopping down onto the cushion. And letting out a long needed sigh. They heard Nines close and lock the front door.

The tension in Y/n's muscles slowly eased its way into relaxation. This wasn't the first time Nines had seen Y/n's place. Only resorting to be at their doorstep to wake them up at ungodly hours for emergency crime scenes that so happened to pop up out of nowhere. Or to drive them home when they are tired to do it half the time themself.

The TV was still on playing from earlier in the morning when Y/n left. On the same channel and same soft spoken volume.

"Alright. Come on. Sit." They finally mustered up the energy to speak. Nines - who was standing next to the couch, took a seat next to Y/n as they opened their phone once more.

"So. I was thinking on the way here. A bloody butcher. Both you and I. I think that would be fun." They proclaimed it was some extremely good news. But to Nines, it was more of good news to Y/n, but he didn't say anything. His pale optics pierced Y/n's face. His eyebrows raised slightly. Y/n gave him a smile, one of reassurance. "Oh come on, don't worry. You'll love it. I saw you have a knack for violent things." They chuckled. Moving over to their coffee table to pick up the laptop that was sitting on it. Nines LED flickered a stark red.

"I'm assuming you would think I'm a violent person because of how I handle things on the field?" It didn't sound like much of a question.

"Well duh. You do tend to man-handle the hell out of the suspects." Y/n replied. Nines didn't say anything else. Instead, watch as Y/n typed into the computer. After a while. They sat back on the couch and glanced at Nines.

"This should work out. Not to mention be a good sight for my budget." They said. Y/n turned the laptop around and showed a photo of the costume, which was just general ideas of what items they planned on looking for.

Nines stared at the screen. His LED circling around. Once. Twice. Before turning yellow.

"Are you purchasing these from a store?" He asks. Y/n nods. Nines nods as well.

"Yeah. Tomorrow after work we both are going to go gather the materials to put together the costume. Oh, this should be fun! Believe it or not. Gavin is such a scary cat. I'm pretty sure you'll be able to scare the hell out of him!" They gave a laugh before setting the laptop on the table.

"But, really Nines. Thanks for agreeing to do this with me. I promise. That when this is all over. I'll not goof around for 1 entire month." They said. Y/n lifted their hand, poking out their pinkie finger. Nines stared at their hand before looking at them.He lifted his hand before pushing Y/n's hand away with his back hand.

"I'll take your word on it, Detective." He says.

"Oh come on. Don't be like that. Smile for once. My gosh." Y/n lets out a chuckle. Lifting one hand to pull at his cheek. Her thumb tugging at the corner of his right lip in an attempt to tug it upwards. Nines - once again, swatted their hand away from his face. A scowl interrupting his blank expression.

"Stop."

"Whatever, tomorrow. It'll be great, you'll have fun, I promise."

Nines watched as Y/n stated at the rack of clothes. Having trouble deciding what Nines would best fit his costume. They decided to purchase his first. The two left the station an hour ago, to get ready for the party that was only 4 hours away. And time was ticking rather quickly with Y/n staring at the rack of clothes as if they had a hard time finding what to wear.

Nines felt his hand lift up. Rubbing at his temple. His elbow resting on his other arm which was across his torso.

"Y/n..."

Y/n let out a hum, signalling they heard what he said but kept their gaze on the rack.

"I think this would go by much quicker, if I were to pick out the clothes, and when you get home. You can put them together." He spoke. Y/n turned to face Nines. He saw them cross their arms.

"Are you calling me slow?" They asks. But, he could tell Y/n wasn't offended by their ack of anger that he so happened to be acquainted with.

"More, indecisive." He corrected. He saw their eyebrows furrow. But they quickly rose up as they understood what he meant.

"I'm not having a hard time picking...just--look, this is supposed to be a me and you thing. Partner to partner, friend to friend. You know. So we can spend more time together instead of always yelling at each other like at work."

It was true. Nines and Y/n rarely got a long at work, Nines being a reason for the constant start of an argument between him and Y/n. That being either working on a case. At the station. Or even at a stake out. He always seemed to feed the flame just to spark Y/n's anger into nothing more than a hungry flame ready to lash out at anyone. But that was because Nines wanted things done the way he wanted them done. And Y/n rarely gave him what he wanted...and that was being serious on the job. But the explanation did make sense. More time spent outside to get to know more about each other...or rather spend more time with each other, could lower their rate or going after each other's throats.

"So, you know. Come on. Let's Both pick our stuff out together." A hint of hope was evident in Y/n's voice. Nines nods, taking several steps forward, to analyse the rack.

"I think you can do something with this."

"Ow! Stop! Stop!" Y/n hissed in pain, feeling Nines peel off the face mask from their face. They tried lifting their hand up to push his hand away. But he was one step ahead. Smacking their hand away for the upteempth time that week. The two finished picking out the clothing and items for their costume, only had 2 hours left to get dressed and ready, a lady that was an entrepreneur and had a clothing line. Gracefully gave Y/n and Nines a discount on what they needed for their costumes. Finding the generous offer kind, Y/n paid more than needed for the clothes, and spent almost half an hour speaking to the woman. Which knocked off much more time than needed. And Nines didn't want any delays in getting dressed - so almost immediately once the two reached Y/n's house. He started laying out stuff so the two could get ready.

The first step being to peel off the face mask for Y/n so once they put the make up on their face for the costume it wouldn't be mixed with any bacteria and dirt. Which also was a pain in Y/n's ass to feel the mask pulling at their skin. And how Nines didn't seem to care much, instead. Resulting in him snatching off the mask piece by piece.

"You asshole! You're doing that on purpose!" Y/n barked. They reached up to punch Nines in his chest. But was interrupted by him snagging at the mask on their face once again. Placing the pieces in a trash can he took from the kitchen.

"It shouldn't hurt that bad, stop whining. Or else this will take much longer than needed." He finally spoke up. Y/n sneered slightly as they felt him tilt their head so he could get the rest of the god-forbidden mask that seemed to be glued to their skin.

After finally getting the pieces peeled off and placed in the trash. Nines stood up to take the trash back to its original spot in the kitchen. Y/n rubbed at their face. The skin feeling somewhat smoother, her pores finally able to get air comfortably.

"Okay. Happy? The horrible dreadful part, as you quoted, is out of the way." Nines said. As he spoke Y/n mumbled a 'fucking finally' - and stood up.

"Okay, we have plenty of time, Oh my god, this is going to be fun. Okay!" Almost immediately, Nines saw the excited expression overtake their expression again. Watching as they grabbed one of the bags and tossed it over to Nines.

"Get dressed. I'll come back in here when I'm done."

Y/n was surprised with how their costume came out. The idea in their mind wasn't as exciting as they once was thinking. But seeing the white knee length apron. Black dress shirt, the tattered jeans that were tucked into the dark rain boots showed that the costume was supposed to resemble some sort of butcher. A few things are missing here and there. But was still proud of how it came out.

Deciding on going back in the living room to get the last back on the coffee table they remembered leaving on the table. Which contained the makeup and fake blood for the costumes...which of course was supposed to be added last.

Walking down the hall and into the living room. Which was empty, in which Y/n didn't seem to take surprise. Thinking Nines went off somewhere in the house(such as the bathroom) , go get dressed. They didn't bother calling out for him. Instead, picking up the bag on the table to look through it. Seeing the many items in the bag, having a hard time choosing what to use first, they stared at the back in contemplation. Unaware of the sauntering figure that was creeping up behind them.

Deciding on finding it to be best, wait for Nines to come back and help with choosing what happens next. They places the bag on the table once again. They turned around to go and look for Nines. Only to quickly pause in their movement upon seeing the figure behind them Y/n jumped slightly. Their calves hit the coffee table.

It was Nines, dressed in the costume, the black apron tied to his waist tightly, instead of a dress shirt that Y/n sported, Nines had on a black turtleneck, which really fit with the costume. Y/n could see the chains wrapped around his wrist, the sound of the metal clanking against each other.

They saw the pig mask, the one Y/n picked out because Y/n found it oddly suiting Nines. The boar's head seemed pretty realistic, the blemishes and red markings on the facial area wavered Y/n's sense of security. They could barely see his eyes through the mask...where the eyes are of course.

"Jeez. You scared me there for a second." Y/n mumbled.

But, Nines didn't say anything. The feeling of his form towering over Y/n, made them realize how some suspects the two brought in everyday had to face his wrath in an interrogation...or just a simple ass kicking. From what Y/n remembers. Nines never lost in a single fight.

"Is this your way in trying to scare me? If so. It's not working." They let out a chuckle, which was half-heartedly. Nines - instead of replying. Let out a grunt. Which Y/n could deem animalistic. Y/n flinched. Shooting him a glare in a way to get him to knock off whatever he was pulling.

"The hell? Did you growl at me?" They spat. Instead of - once again. Not replying. Nines turned around to walk off down the hall where the bathroom was located.

"Where are you going?" They asks. There was no reply. Only the sound of the chains clanking against each other and the squeaking of the rainboots answered them question.

"..." Y/n felt their eyebrow twitch. Almost a second letter. Nines came back out the hall. Looking the same, except holding the boars mask in his hand, which he didn't seem to have any interest in wearing.

"Dude, what the hell?"

Nines looked at Y/n. His LED flickering to yellow almost instantly. He raised an eyebrow; "is there a problem?" He asks. Y/n scrunched their nose up and nodded.

"Uh, yeah. You were just out here - not even a minute ago. You just walked off. Not to mention, growled at me." They answered. Y/n saw the LED on Nines temple slowly circled to the stark red, his eyebrows furrowed.

"I was in the bathroom all this time." He said. Y/n only gave him a blank expression. Which only remsebled an expression that they didn't believe what he said.

"I was--"

"Anyway. Come on. Let's put this last bit of stuff on so we can leave."

"You're getting blood everywhere." Nines informed. Watching as Y/n drove down the ride they tried sitting themselves in the seat comfortably so the fake blood on the apron wouldn't smear on the car seat. It would be a pain to get it out.

"I know that, Nines. Shut up, pighead. Besides, it's not even real." They muttered. Nines lifted the corner of his lip in a way to sneer.

"Hilarious. I almost forgot to laugh at that one."

"You forget to laugh everyday." They quickly shot back. Nines only rubbed his temple with a sigh. "You truly are a mess." He sighs. Y/n laughed, keeping their eyes on the road.

"You're damn right, a hot mess. Trust me. Tonight will be fun! Don't worry, really!" Nines didn't reply. Instead watched the road and the many buildings that passed by. His gray optics flickered over to Y/n. Spending an entire day with his partner did have its ups and downs. But it wasn't as life-threatening as he thought it would be.

"So. Are you enjoying yourself so far? You know. Being costume twins and all. I think it's fun." Y/n asked. Nines tapped his index finger in his knee.

"Rather childish. But if it can get you to stop quiping me about dressing up with you. I guess this won't be too bad." He responds. Hearing Y/n tap the wheel with their fingers.

"Thanks for doing this with me, really. Maybe tonight you and I can go and get something to eat."

"I don't eat."

"....I mean. You could at least act like you do. Like jeez, what the hell." They muttered. Once again, complaining. Mumbling about. "Just stuff the food in your mouth and spit it out. Make it seem like you can or something--"

"Alright--okay. I'll take you out to dinner tonight. Is that what you wanted to hear?" Nines finally spoke up. Interrupting her from her charades of complaining. Almost quickly, a smile replaced their frown.

"Yes, sir. That's exactly what I want to hear. You. Nines. My partner. Taking me to get dinner." They quipped. Nines glanced at them. Shaking his head slowly.

"Holy shit!" Gavin stared at the two. Watching as Nines was busy behind Y/n speaking to Hank from behind the boar's mask. A smile graced Hank's lips. His hands on his hips. He didn't dress as anything like the majority of the people did. Instead...well...showing up in his casual clothes.

"Wow. Next year. Me and you and dressing up together." Gavin nudged Y/n's shoulder. Causing them to chuckle.

"I mean. I was going around the office asking people. And they either were dressing up as something already, or were dressing up as something already. Same thing. I know." They grinned, already knowing what Gavin was about to say.

"You didn't ask me you little shit!"

"Oops?"

Gavin rolled his eyes. Swatting his hands in a way to shoo the conversation away. "Nines look terrifying as hell." He looked over at their partner who was still speaking with Hank. Y/n nods.

"I'm not surprised. You're scared of everything." She said. Gavin shot her a look.

"Hey, plastic-prick. Over here!" Gavin snaps his fingers. Y/n saw Nines look away from Hank. And over to Gavin. Hank looked over as well. Nines walked over to the two. Once in earshot he turned his head away from Y/n to look at Gavin.

"Yes?" He asks. Gavin flicked the boar's snout.

"Sup."

"I don't know what I expected wasting my time walking over here." Nines muttered. Gavin laughs. Almost immediately, Nines jumped towards Gavin. Which also startled Y/n. The two shrieked at the sudden action from Nines. Hearing Hank laugh in the background was what pulled Gavin from his pose. Which he moved to grip Y/n's shoulder. In a pose like he was hiding behind them.

"You Jackass!" Gavin shouts. Hank howled with laughter. Walking over to give Nines a pat on the back.

"Good one!"

Y/n felt their heartbeat in their chest like drums. They couldn't find an exact reason why they got jumpy. Letting out a sigh as they placed a hand on their chest. Hearing Gavin bicker in the background along the lines of "I'll fucking end you!"

Meanwhile, Y/n stared across the street. Which had a good view of an alleyway. Seeing two figures facing each other. Once being noticeably shorter than the other. The short figure...which the two really resemble the silhouette from the lack of light in the area (considering the sun had set) the short figure seemed to be pointing its finger at the taller figure's chest. From the body movements the person seemed to be angry. As on the other hand the taller figure - standing still and stiff as a plank just stood there.

Y/n watched for a few more moments. Whatever commotion they were hearing on their side of the street was muffled to them.

Soon, the short figure head turned towards the direction Y/n was in - across the street. Which the taller figure took notice of. The two stared at them. The tall figure seemed to tap its leg. Causing the short figure the scurry off somewhere in the shadows of the alleyway.

Raising a hand. The tall figure that was left in the alleyway waved. Y/n furrowed their eyebrows.

Who the hell was that?

"Y/n! Come on, get your ass in here before you freeze!" Y/n heard Hank shout from the door. Y/n quickly snapped from their clouded reality. Looking at Hank who was holding the door open. Shoot a gaze back at the alley, only to see nothing.

"And I said. Give me my shit. Or I'll put a foot up your ass." Gavin said. The booth that was placed in the back of the room, either chuckled, laughed or said commented on his story. Which was Chris.

"Honestly. I wouldn't be too surprised if she got a restraining order on your crazy ass." Chris chuckled. Gavin only shot him a large grin. Chris's wife smiled at the two. Shaking their head. The majority of the party dressed up. Either it being werewolves, vampires, zombies. It was something...despite the fact that one of the officers came with a macaroni box.

The booth sat, Connor, Hank, Nines, Y/n, Gavin, Chris and his wife. Drinks were passed, and also laughs. (Will except from Nines of course)

The night was smooth. And not to mention fun.

Y/n, still kept tethering back and forth from the odd altercation at home with Nines. And from what they saw in the alleyway.

Nines sat next to them. Listening to Gavin speak. On and on.

"So. Are you two still together or not?" Chris asked. Gavin's and his significant other had...somewhat of a toxic relationship. Constant fighting, either it be verbal or...from what Gavin didn't want to admit. But it was obvious. Physical. From both parties. But, Y/n never really intervened. It wasn't their business. So they didn't care much about it. Though the stories were funny.

Digging into their pockets in search of their phone. They didn't feel it. Taking note they must have left it outside in the car.

"I'll be right back. I have to go get my phone."

Sitting in the driver's seat. Y/n checked to see if the device was at a proper percentage. She closed the car door and sighed. Scrolling through it sees nothing new. They turned around to face the building to return. They stopped and looked up. Seeing a figure by the light pole in front of them The figure had the same costume as Y/n. The apron. The boots. Pants. Looking up they saw...the same face. It was Y/n!

The dark circles under the eyes were much noticeable. The blue surgical mask covered the lower half of the person's face. But Y/n wasn't stupid. They saw themself many times in the mirror to tell who it was. And every strand of hair on the person's head. Could tell that certainly was Y/n.

The e/c eyes stared at Y/n's form. Boring into their face. A feeling they similarly got only from Nines. But the gaze coming from..them, made Y/n freeze.

Staring at the person. It was like an exact replica, a doppelganger.

Y/n could hear the sounds coming from the person. A muffled purr of some sort, scuffling shoes. It couldn't seem to stand still.

"...who are you--" Y/n was cut off by the doppelganger launching itself towards them - gripping the side of their face. It's nails digging into their skin. Y/n let out a surprised scream. Hearing the strained grumbles and grows coming from the thing on top of them.

Y/n felt themself land on the ground. The concrete knocking the wind from their body. Y/n was more surprised than scared. Of course they had many hand to hand combat on the field. But this didn't feel right at all.

Acting quick and raising an arm to shove off the doppelganger. Switching sides as they were now on top of the person, straddling it by the hips, Y/n felt it shift and swing an arm. Y/n quickly backed off of the person in an attempt to not get hit. It had a knife. Making it clear that it was meaning to harm Y/n. Y/n quickly backpedaled and stood up. The sound of their huffing and puffing. And both of their shoes scuffling on the pavement. The person stood up. Shaking itself as if to remove the dirt that collected on its shirt from the pavement.

"Y/n. What's ta-"

"Okay, so Nines! There's some weird shit going on!" Y/n jogged over to the door that Nines held open. He was now staring at Y/n's doppelganger who quickly had stood up staring at the two. Once it made eye contact with Nines. It seemed to stop in its former actions and stare, before scurrying away down the sidewalk.

"Who was that? What's going on?" He asks. Y/n shoved Nines into the building as he spoke.

"I don't know! But we have to do something!" She shouts. The LED on Nines temple was flickering from red to yellow. Y/n was already making their way towards the booth.

"Hank. You would not believe this. But I just got attacked by my own self. We need to find out what's going on." Y/n interrupted whatever conversation he was having with the group at the table. Connor was the first to look over.

"Yourself?"

"Yes! Now come on. This is serious." Hank could tell whether or not Y/n was joking or not. Which...truly wasn't that hard to tell if they were. He stood up from the booth, luckily he was seated on the outside.

"What's going on?"

Nines soon made his way over to the table.

"I was attacked by someone who looked exactly like me. Which, that can explain what happened earlier today. But! I have a crazy ass doppelganger!"

"Oh Christ." Hank muttered. Crossing his arms and looking at Y/n and then at Nines. And back at Y/n.

Gavin soon stood up.

"Oh, I have to see this." He spoke up. Hank ignored the man and looked back at Y/n. "Where did you last see this person."

"When I was outside. It attacked me--"

"The hell? Did you go after them?"

"No. They ran away before I can even do anything." Hank nods. Snapping his finger and pointing towards the exit.

"To the car. Let's go. Connor. Come on." Connor stoop up and stood next to Hank.

"Looks like we got some searching to do."

#detroit rk900 #detroit become human rk900 #detroit become human x reader #detroit become human #dbh connor #connor x reader #connor rk800 #dbh connor x reader #dbh nines #nines x reader #gavin x nines #rk900 x reader #rk900 #dbh hank #hank x reader

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nowoyas · 5 years ago

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Bunny Eyes

A/N: I JUST WANTED TO WRITE BUNNYZUKU GETTING DISAPPOINTED AND BEING CUTE HOW DID THIS HAPPEN BUT Y’ALL WANTED THE SICKFIC SO HERE’S THE SICKFIC

Summary: Saying 'no' to your boyfriend is hard enough, does he have to make you feel so guilty when you’re already sick? (bunny!Izuku x sick!reader, fluff)

Warnings: uh none, the reader has the flu and has flu symptoms but I didn’t go into like, gross descriptions

Word count: 2600+ (HOW THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SHORT AND SWEET)

Your boyfriend might be just a little bit evil.

Not in the traditional sense, no, Izuku's too pure and kind and good for this world. Reckless, selfless, and all around perfect.

But he's evil and he knows if he just looks at you just right, you won't be able to say no.

Currently, you're bed-bound from a nasty flu that's been making you feel absolutely miserable. When you're not asleep, the farthest you've been able to go is being miserable on your balcony in the fresh air (usually at night, since this damn flu has absolutely slam dunked your sleep schedule) or sneaking on to your computer to game, exhaustion and dizziness and all manner of symptoms making even sitting up for too long a chore.

You have to thank whatever powers are out there for Izuku's loving hand in your recovery. You don't trust yourself to make it all the way downstairs to the kitchen from your fourth-floor dorm room, and without even asking, he's stopped by every morning and afternoon since you got sick to bring you food, including a few simple pre-packed things to choke down for lunch and extra bottles of water. Not that you've been particularly hungry, but on the rare occasion you feel well enough to choke something down, thanks to him, you've actually been able to.

He's constantly been worried over you, since even before you started dating in your first year, but the flu picking you up and effortlessly slamming you through the floor certainly hasn't helped that. Still, he's so sweet, and by this point (day 5 since you got sick, but who’s counting?) he's basically the only sunshine you're getting. You're sure if your bunny-eared boyfriend didn't have class to go to (and Aizawa was adamant that he still attend class), he'd be at your side every moment, fussing over you and making sure you eat, stay hydrated, and take your medicine.

Unluckily for you (or perhaps luckily—your medicine tastes utterly vile and isn't helping your stomach settle any more), he's had class every day since you got sick, and he can't afford to fall behind even if he's apparently spending most of his time in class worrying over how you're doing alone in your dorm.

Whether him being at class every day is lucky or unlucky, the opposite is true for today. (Or is it tomorrow? What time is it again?) It's the weekend, meaning he's got no other obligations to deal with, so you can and do expect him to want to spend every moment doting and fussing and using those damn eyes to get you to relent and take your disgusting medicine.

On one hand, score, cute boy acting as your nurse. On the other hand, if he spends all day in your room tending to your sick-people needs, he's gonna get sick, and it'll be an utter nightmare trying to get him to take his medicine and actually rest. God knows he'll be trying to sneak in studying when you're not keeping an eye on him. You'll probably have to confiscate his weights so he doesn't try to work out while he's still sick. (Not that you aren't almost just as bad, but at least you're not a rabbit with godlike ability in terms of sheer power and speed to make it harder to deal with.)

As much as you'd adore having his presence with you to make you go from miserable to "miserable but also very aware of how in love you are and being forced to take gross meds" (which kinda cancels itself out), you don't want him getting sick or wasting his whole day on you. Also, you get the feeling he's probably smart enough to figure out that you haven't been resting as much as you say you have. For now, at least, you're sat on your balcony, leaned up against the railing lightly to get some fresh air. And that's where you fall asleep, exhaustion hitting you like so many trucks.

When you wake up, you're being cradled against Izuku's chest and carried to your bed. You shiver, feeling both heat and cold overtake you, and tears prick at your eyes as you realize your fever has almost definitely come back in full force. Izuku pulls back your covers and lays you down, not noticing you're awake until he moves to drape the blanket back over your body. His rabbit ears stand at full attention, his face lighting up just a moment before a playfully chiding look comes on his face.

"You shouldn't be sleeping outside like that, love, you'll get even more sick. And based on how hot you felt when I picked you up, you did." He places his hands on his hips, frowning even as you note the sparkle of affection in his eyes. You're not sure he's even capable of getting actually mad at you.

"Sorry," you mumble, bringing the covers up to hide your face and how utterly awful you look before deciding almost immediately that you're going to overheat under these covers. You writhe about just enough to kick them off, already feeling sweat form on your skin. "The air felt really nice."

You end up throwing a pillow over your face so at least the worst part of you is hidden, hugging it close when Izuku laughs and tries to move it away. "I brought breakfast, please quit hiding so you can eat?"

"But I look like shit," you whine into the pillow. "I don't even have the energy to get downstairs. I had to wash my hair in my bathroom sink."

Warm hands find their way to your wrists, gently prying your hands and the pillow away so you can meet his adoring gaze. If you weren't already flushed from fever, you'd probably have the energy for a blush to find its way to your face. "You're perfect, starshine," he says softly, causing your heart to stutter and your body to instantly melt. His library of pet names never ceases to pull you further into love.

Before you can find some response, he crosses the room to your desk, where he apparently set his Nurse Deku Kit™ so he could carry you back inside. You shift a bit to lean up against your wall, watching in amusement as the giant cotton ball he calls a tail twitches a little bit. You hope, idly, that he doesn't notice that your computer's only in sleep mo—

He bumps the mouse by accident, and the screen lights up immediately, showing your games library with a very obvious "recently played" list. Busted.

He lets out a little sigh as he turns back to you with a thermometer in hand. "Princess..."

You try hard not to look like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and smile innocently at him as he approaches. He sits on the side of your bed, and you tilt your head. "Something wrong?"

He holds out the thermometer, and you obediently let him stick it underneath your tongue, knowing he won't let you out of having your temperature taken. "Have you been resting?"

You nod. He hums, clearly not believing you. "Are you feeling up to eating anything?"

Your nose scrunches up, your stomach turning at the thought. "Ughf," you force out around the thermometer.

Izuku frowns, ruffling your hair as the thermometer beeps. He takes it from you, and his nose twitches as he reads the number. You'd fawn over how adorable it is if not for the look of worry that crosses his features. "Your fever's back, starshine. I really need you to rest more for me, okay?"

Not that you're planning on arguing, but it's really hard to have the will to when his ears drop down and he gives you a look like you just kicked a puppy. You nod, and he perks up just a bit, placing a new water bottle on your nightstand and reaching for a box of crackers. "I know you're not feeling up to eating, but can you do me a favor and eat just one cracker?"

You compromise with half a cracker before your body threatens to revolt for your hubris. You pause, forcing yourself to swallow it, and chase it with a bit of water. With Izuku's coaxing words and a minor break, you manage to choke down the rest without getting even sicker, and he gives you a strained smile that still manages to light up the room.

He leans forward, and you sense his intentions, narrowing your eyes and putting a hand up in front of his lips. "No."

Izuku lets out a disgruntled noise that's a mix between a grunt and a whine when his lips meet your fingers. "Baby," he whines out.

"No!" you insist. "You'll get sick, 'Zuku."

"But I miss you," he says as his ears fall all the way back, his eyes reminding you of one of those adoption commercials with all the sad animals that make you cry every time. "Please, starshine?"

Shit. You're already desperately trying to bring your resolve back. You swear he's figured out exactly how to get you to do what he wants, but you won't falter this time! "No kisses. I shouldn't even be letting you stay in the room to take care of me."

As if the bunny eyes and the oh-so-adorably-expressive ears weren't enough, he wiggles closer to you, taking your hand in both of his and running his thumb over it. "I got my flu shot, I'll be fine! I promise!" He pauses, pouting a bit. You can't tell if it's him thinking or another way to express how disappointed he is. "Please baby? Honey? Sweetheart? Starshine? Princess? Rosebud? Light of my life?"

"Nooo," you press with a giggle as he continues running through every possible pet name he can in a playfully pleading tone. "I know you got your flu shot, but so did I, and here I am."

"Still..." He keeps those damn green eyes (that's the official name for that shade, damn green) locked on yours sadly, and the guilt spikes in your stomach. "Just one?"

And like that, your resolve crumbles. "You're evil, you know that?" you mumble, tearing your eyes away. They dart back just in time to see his whole being light up, rabbit ears effortlessly perking up from their previous saddened position. "Using such a dirty trick. You get one."

You'd continue berating him for the crime of using his adorable face to get what he wants, but he immediately takes your face in his hands and begins showering your face with kisses–your cheeks, your nose, your forehead–everywhere except your lips, which he saves for last, a slow, sweet, chaste kiss that leaves you melting.

"Izuku..." you whine as he pulls away. "I said one."

He chuckles, resting his forehead against yours. "Sorry, starshine. I couldn't help myself."

Your playful ire melts at the way his eyes flutter shut in contentment, small smiles on both of your lips. He surely knows by now that it's impossible for you to say no, not when he's this damn cute.

A giggle surges out of you, followed by a coughing fit that you desperately cover in your elbow. When you catch your breath, you smirk at him, eyes sparkling. "If you get sick because of this, I'm confiscating your weights so you can't try to train."

"Alright, alright, I get it. You haven't taken your medicine yet today, right?" You wince, turning your head away preemptively. "'Zu-kun..." you whine.

"[name]..." His tone is gently chiding as he prepares the medicine, unscrewing the cap with one hand and gently placing the other under your cheek and pushing you back to face him. "You're not gonna get better if you keep trying to skip your medicine and sneak onto the computer instead of resting."

"But if I take the medicine, I might throw up the cracker, and it was so hard to eat just the one..." You give him your best puppy eyes, but he only smiles fondly and shakes his head, continuing to measure out your dose.

“You'll get all the cuddles when you're better if you take your medicine like you're supposed to," he promises.

You pout, but when he extends the dose cup filled with liquid distaste, you begrudgingly take it, downing it like the least pleasant shot you've ever had in your life. You gag on the swallow, but you down every drop, pouting at Izuku when it's all down. "Happy?"

"Very. You did a good job, princess." He ruffles your hair, and you really wish you could muster the energy to be flustered at the praise like you normally would, but honestly, you already feel yourself kind of drifting back off. Determined, you shoot him a smile and try to distract yourself from sleepiness.

"I know it's a weekend, but if I stay in bed and promise to get rest, can I get away with asking to see your notes from class?" You plead, giving him your best puppy-eyed look.

"I don't know, you haven't shown me a very good track record of actually resting," he says teasingly, not yet having looked at you as he rifles through his little kit for something else.

"'Zu-kun," you whine, stifling a yawn. "I don't wanna go to sleep yet. Please?"

Izuku disappears into your bathroom for a moment, followed shortly by the sound of running water, and when he emerges to see your pleading look, you can see his own resolve crumble.

Two can play at his little pleading game.

He smooths a hand over your forehead to move your hair out of the way, laying a blue towel over your sweat-slicked forehead that's cold, far too cold—

You let out a whine as you shiver. "How is it even that cold?" You mumble, shifting into your blankets more in an attempt to balance the heat.

"Oh, it's one of those exercise towels," he explains. "They're made so they get really cold when they're wet. I want to try to bring your temperature down, but if it's way too cold, I can get a regular towel instead–"

You shake your head. The cold does feel soothing, underneath all the cold cold cold so cold making you shiver. "Notes?" you remind him.

He leans forward and presses a quick peck to the towel in your forehead before you can stop him. "I love you, [name], but it can wait until you're feeling better."

"So can kisses," you retort, swatting at him lightly. "I don't wanna be useless the whole time I'm sick, so—" You break off into a yawn. "—so please let me study a bit?"

"Try to eat half of one more cracker before you fall asleep and I might consider it when you wake up," he says with a teasing grin. You pout and hold out your hand for him to place the broken cracker in.

"I hate having crumbs in my bed," you mutter, nibbling away at the cracker. You barely manage to eat the half you were given, your body protesting your attempts to actually eat and keep something down all the while, but you do manage it.

Izuku's fingers entwine with your own, a fond smile on his face as you feel yourself nodding off. "[Name]?"

"Mm?"

"I love you. Get better soon, okay?"

"Love you too," you reply sleepily, another yawn wracking your body. "Sorry. I wanted to stay up and... talk with you... but..."

A hand finds its way into your hair to play with it as your eyes drift shut. "It's okay," he says adoringly, "We'll talk later. Get some rest, princess."

#midoriya izuku x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bunny!izuku #deku x reader #my fics

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