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wri0thesley · 4 years ago

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Hey Nat, I'm kinda blaming you for my budding infatuation with Nanami and I was wondering if I may request Nanami and his s/o having their first kiss? It doesn't have to be long but I'm just feeling soft and with the way you write him it sounds like a treat once this reserved, professional man finally allows himself to give in

oh anon i am so... so very soft.... you cannot blame me for the nanami desire. he is simply irresistible.

date night - nanami x reader (3k)

you’re nervous about your first date with nanami.

warnings: none. fluffy, soft. neutral reader, some mentions of food and alcohol.

You cannot help but be nervous about tonight.

Your friends have made fun of you, talking about your hot date – Gojo thumping you on the back, Shoko looking at you with her tired eyes but a smirk on her face. Neither of them really get it, you don’t think – to them, Nanami is their former junior who is just a little too serious for his own good. A gloomy, stoic presence who they trust implicitly due to the good head on his shoulders, but who they do not really see as ‘a potential romantic match’. They know that you’ve been harbouring a crush on the former salaryman for months, and they’ve already tried to warn you off him.

“He can be so boring,” Gojo had said, swinging an arm around your shoulders. “Let me set you up with someone instead!”

Your face had heated up at the idea that Gojo didn’t trust you to make your own romantic decisions, but he was already halfway through listing the name of every eligible bachelor he knew (and a few who he said ‘weren’t eligible, but they probably could be, for you!’). You’d been able to do nothing but listen politely as you’d walked with him to his classroom, occasionally gathering strange looks from the students that were milling around in the corridors.

“Think about it!” He’d cried to you as he’d stepped into his bare classroom (you hardly ever see him doing any actual classwork in there; mainly, you see him lying on top of desks and making fun of his students) and greeted the three first years waiting for him. “You don’t wanna be stuck ironing Nanami’s socks for the rest of your life!”

You hope his students don’t hear him, as you decide to go for a walk outside to clear your head.

You and Nanami have been dancing around the idea of maybe possibly being something more than friends for weeks. You’ve felt it, in the brush of his hand against yours, the way that his eyes seem to soften and his tiredness seems to lift when you’re near him. You’ve felt it, as you’ve passed him a cup of coffee and he’s relished the warmth emanating from the cup. In the soft way he speaks to you.

You’ve felt it when he’s held your hand as the two of you have walked together, not saying anything. In his scarf wrapped around your neck, smelling like him.

What you haven’t done, is go on a date.

And perhaps this isn’t a date the way you’d once have dreamed about it. You’re going over to Nanami’s place; he’s going to cook a meal for you, the two of you are going to catch up after he’s been gone on a mission for almost a week - the two of you are going to watch a foreign film he’s been able to get hold of, that you’ve been saving to watch with one another. You’re going to perhaps have a glass of wine together, or two--

You kind of do want to be stuck ironing Nanami’s socks for the rest of your life.

It sounds so silly when you say it aloud! You haven’t even kissed him, just brushed fingers and held hands and saved each other’s lives whilst on exorcisms together. But whenever you close your eyes and imagine your future, Nanami is always there, right beside you.

You breathe in deeply. You have to ignore what Gojo and Shoko and everyone have been saying. They’ve known Nanami for longer than you – they were his upperclassmen, after all, and you suppose it’s traditional to make fun of and quash your younger classmates a little. You just need to think about what you want, and what Nanami himself may want. Plucking uselessly at your clothes, nerves fizzing in your stomach, you elect to ignore the anxiety gnawing at you until you’re at least outside of Nanami’s front door.

Then, you tell yourself, then, I’ll allow myself to panic a little bit. Seeing Nanami’s calm, handsome face always calms me down. The minute he answers the door, I’ll forget that I was even nervous, and everything will be just as it should.

It doesn’t stop you worrying, as you get dressed and try and fluff your hair and rearrange all of your accessories whilst you get ready. It’s just an evening at his house, you try and keep telling yourself. He’s not expecting me to show up like a runway model, he’d probably hate that anyway--

Still. Having a crush on somebody is never easy, and Nanami can be so utterly unreadable at times, that you get dressed and undressed twice more before you settle on something in between casual and formal; that looks like you’ve made an effort, without looking like you agonised for hours to figure out what the level of effort should be. You’re clutching a bottle of wine and standing outside of his door three minutes early, wondering if he’s the kind of man who gets annoyed if you are there too early.

The door swings open, and Nanami is there, leaning on the door frame. He’s breathtakingly handsome, in casual clothes – an expensive looking sweater in soft grey that gives just a peek at the column of his throat, cuffed jeans. You’ve never seen him look so . . . relaxed. And the fact that he’s looking at you, his lips barely tilting, his tired eyes just a little turned up at the corners.

“You look nice,” he tells you, and you thank God that you went with this outfit. You hold out the bottle of wine for him, and his smile breaks wider as he looks at it. “You didn’t need to bring me anything, you know. I’m happy to be the provider this evening.”

“It’s-- it’s polite!” You insist, and Nanami steps aside to allow you into his house. He’s very proper, and you’d wanted to impress him – you think the young lady who had served you in the specialist store you’d anxiously entered had sensed your worry, and had been very kind as she’d picked something for you she was certain you’d like.

“You made a good choice,” he tells you, as he invites you into his hallway and you gratefully pull off your shoes. “This one looks fine--”

“I didn’t really choose it,” you admit. “I let the experts do it.”

He laughs, the sound like an early spring morning. You don’t think anybody else hears him laugh like that, and the comfort that the two of you share makes you feel soft and warm.

“Even more admirable, then,” he says. “Most people we know would just barrel in guns blazing and insist they knew the right way to do things.”

You both share a secretive smile, your cheeks warming. You can feel tension draining out of you the longer you spend in Nanami’s company. Something about him just sets you at ease.

When you’d first met him, you’d been frightened of him. He seemed so gloomy and intense, so utterly focussed on his goals – when you had tried to speak to him, he had brushed you off with short one word answers and you’d caught him looking at you when your back was turned as if he was waiting for you to slip up.

But as time had worn on . . . as time had worn on, Nanami’s edges had softened. You’d realised that he was willing to talk, when the participant had proved themselves to be worth talking to. He’d told you once, shrugging, that most jujutsu sorcerers just tended to be . . . odd.

“Not you, though,” he’d said, and your heart had leapt in your chest. “Well. You’re not odd in any way that isn’t charming.”

He’s not usually the kind of man who heaps praise on other people; that little compliment, you had carried with you like a flame in your heart. The first time he had held your hand, he hadn’t said anything. The first time he had walked you home, and met you for coffee in a morning a half hour before you were due to be at the scene of an exorcism; Nanami Kento shows that he cares about you in a hundred different little ways that aren’t as simple as telling you it out and out. You admire that about him. You’re so used to putting your foot in your mouth.

“Come sit at the table,” he says, and you follow him obediently. His house is tastefully decorated, somewhere between modern and traditional; he has shelves of books everywhere, and that makes you smile. You’ve heard him say, sighing; “When I’m done with all this, I’ll finally have time to get around to reading them.” The shelf in the very corner of the dining area is the only one that looks well-thumbed; even from here, you can see that it’s where he keeps his recipe books.

“I hope you’ll like it,” you settle into the chair that he pulls out for you. He moves into the kitchen with purpose, grabbing serving dishes and utensils and juggling them with a precision that makes you admire him all the more. “I’m very glad you were on time. It’s the kind of dish that needs to be eaten at the exact right moment.”

He whips the cover off the main dish.

You knew that Nanami was a foodie. His instagram is full of pictures of various places and treats he’s eaten – with a particular focus on adorable baked goods, especially bread, that had made you feel warm inside when you’d noticed. Still, the spread that he’s laid out before you would not look out of place in the most high-class of restaurants; the kind that you’d never had the money to afford to eat in, and you’d have been afraid of showing yourself up at the tables of. You stare at it, mesmerised; the vegetables, so bright and colourful and steaming, lovingly presented – the glaze of the meats, the bowls full of side-dishes that you can’t quite recognise.

There’s an anxiety in his face when he looks at you.

“Sorry,” he says, quietly. “I think I probably over-estimated. And over-compensated, I suppose, for not taking you out to a restaurant--”

“No,” you say, quickly. “It looks delicious. I’m glad you invited me. It’s just . . . a lot.”

“Yes,” his eyes rove over the table. “There are only two of us.”

“It’ll make good left-overs,” you suggest, and he brightens.

“That should have been my line,” he tells you as he retrieves the wine you’d brought. You can see that there was already a bottle chilling in a bucket by the table, but Nanami’s face is affectionate as he pops the cork and pours some into the wine glass by your plate. “I’m supposed to be the responsible one.”

“Sorry for stealing your thunder,” you take a sip of the wine.

“Just as long as you don’t make a habit of it.”

The food really is delicious. You could easily have had seconds, or even thirds – on an ordinary day. A day in which your stomach isn’t churning from how alone the two of you are. There’s a buzz in the air that isn’t quite tension; more, it’s a promise that there’s more yet to come. You and Nanami laugh over dinner, the conversation surprisingly easy when the knot in your insides is so tight. He talks about his old job, and you talk about your own adventures before you’d ended up in Tokyo – he smiles, and laughs, more than you’ve ever seen him do.

He seems so much more at home here. That’s silly, considering it is his home – but somehow, there’d always been an image of Nanami in your head as serious and unforgiving with his tie very tight and his suits perfectly pressed even when he was relaxing in his own rooms.

That image is quickly wiped away, by the way he looks as he rolls up the sleeves of his sweater to take the dishes away.

“Let me help you wash up,” you try and say, but he waves you away.

“I’ll leave them for after you’ve gone,” he says. “I’m not going to ask a guest to do that. Or maybe I’ll even be bold; leave them for in the morning.” His smile makes you feel weak at the knees, this time – a spot of pink high on those sharp cheekbones. Is he blushing, or has his face gone rosy from the wine?

The two of you migrate into the living room. His television is large, but not ostentatiously so; a row of DVDs are neatly in the cabinet beneath it, mainly drama films, period films and some foreign prestige box sets. The movie the two of you have been talking about is one of those – a Danish film about an ageing detective who takes on one last case. You had originally planned to see it together, when it made it to Tokyo cinemas; but one thing had lead to another, and before you could both get the schedules to work out it had gone.

He places the DVD into the player and you can’t help but stare at him; how the soft material of the sweater clings to his broad shoulders, how the jeans seem to emphasise his ass – he’s always in slacks, you’ve never really had the chance to ogle it before, but seeing it in front of you now you suddenly understand why he keeps it covered. Who knows what riots it might incite, if it were just out and about for anyone to see?

“You’re staring,” Nanami turns his head slightly, catching your eye. Heat rushes to your face – but he keeps your eyes pinned with his own for a moment, before deliberately dragging them down the length of you, sat on the sofa. You feel hot and warm and bothered by the way he smiles afterwards, as if he is saying that he likes what he’s seeing too. “You don’t need to be sneaky about it. I don’t mind.”

You swallow, your throat suddenly going very dry. Nanami moves across the room, sitting on the sofa beside you. Heat seems to be radiating off of him; there’s a comfort in having him next to you.

“You look uncomfortable,” he says, five minutes into the movie. He leans back, an arm coming to rest on the back of the sofa behind you. “You can lean on me, you know. I don’t mind.”

He looks inviting. His head is tipped to one side as he meets your eyes; there’s no challenge in his. Just a softness. A quiet affection. Perhaps a touch of nervousness – of trepidation, that you’ll refuse the offer. You hesitantly sidle closer, leaning your head against his side. His scent wraps around you; freshly cleaned laundry, peppermint, coffee, spices, some of the wine from earlier--

You fair go dizzy at it all, but not as dizzy as you go when the arm on the back of the sofa wraps around you, his fingers resting on your shoulder. How are you supposed to concentrate on anything, with him so close to you? With everything about him making you feel like you’re on a roller-coaster climbing upwards and upwards, hurtling towards the inevitable?

You try – oh, you really do try – to keep your eyes on the film and the subtitles scrolling across the bottom of the television. But the aged detective is not half as interesting as Nanami; as the way he focusses on the screen, as his face bathed in the light. As his hand, as it gently starts to stroke over your shoulder, as if he’s barely aware he’s doing it. As his tongue, as it darts out to nervously lick at his lips.

“You’re staring at me,” he says, and you flinch that he’s noticed. His head turns, pinning you with the full force of his gaze. “Are you not enjoying it? We can turn it off?”

How do you answer that?

The real answer: ‘I’m not enjoying it because I can’t concentrate on anything other than you, and how badly I want to be brave enough to kiss you’, feels too bare and bold. You bite your lip.

Nanami leans in closer to you, so close that you can see the flush on his cheeks. The slightly ruffled hairs falling over his forehead. You can count his eyelashes, almost--

“I’m not sure what’s going on either,” he admits, softly. “And I can speak Danish.”

The arm not around your shoulders moves, resting on your waist. You can barely breathe. He’s so close to you; so gorgeous, in the light. All of that former salaryman indifference seems to have gone; he’s not cold any longer, but boiling hot. You’ve been watching it slowly strip away from him since you met him, you think, but tonight might be the first time he’s been Kento Nanami with no pretension.

Nervous about his food, even though he knows he’s an excellent cook. Blushing as he realises you’re checking him out. Almost trembling, as his hand slides up and he cups your cheek like you’re made of porcelain and he’s afraid he might drop and shatter you at any moment. You blink up at him, honey-slow, so dazed by his touch and his presence you can barely make sense of what’s happening.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Nanami says, as a warning. Even now, he seems to think you might pull away. But you cannot, you do not; you just press yourself closer into him, your voice coming out very soft and small as you whisper;

“Please do.”

He does not need to be asked twice. His lips are so soft against yours. The wine clings to them, intoxicating and heady. The hand on your cheek tips your face further up, so he can keep his mouth pressed against you so sweetly. You pull back, your heart pounding.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” he’s saying, almost immediately, nervous that you have changed your mind – but all you do is free your arms, so you can wrap them about his neck and pull him in closer, to devour him the way you’ve wanted to for months.

The movie plays on, forgotten.

#jjk x reader #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami fluff #writing #food for ts #alcohol for ts #Anonymous

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sugako · 4 years ago

Text

after dinner special

bokuto x f!reader x hinata sum: after seeing the way his teammate looks at you, bokuto comes up with a plan to help all parties cw: 18+ only minors dni i am begging you, established relationship (bokuto x reader), slight manipulation (?? reader/bo make a secret plan to seduce hinata and he wants to so not really but idk what else to tag it as), oral (f!receiving), double pussyjob, nipple play, orgasm denial, D/s, spit roast, unprotected, hinabo if you squint extra hard wc: 4.2k a/n: finally back from the dead with this wayyy overdue fic ive been thinking about/writing for months, no edits or beta bc i'm too impatient and haven't posted in so long

Above all else, Bokuto was incredibly perceptive to other’s emotions. Among other aspects, that quality had really drawn you to him even if it wasn’t as extraordinarily overt as his confidence and enthusiasm. His perceptiveness didn’t end with you, of course, he was well-connected with his teammates, which meant when he saw the way Hinata’s eyes just barely glazed over when he met you he knew there was something more happening in his head. He watched the burning grow in Hinata after he had witnessed the two of you had, quite obviously, snuck off to another room during a get-together at Meian’s, spit still drying at the corner of your dry, puffy lips a week prior.

Even he wasn’t sure what exactly his plan was as he started up in the locker room a couple weeks later, oversharing every little detail he could recall about your body, namely when it was under him. Ignoring Atsumu and Kiyoomi’s groans for him to stop while Shugo and Oliver snickered to themselves reminiscing about their own escapades from a handful of years ago, he focused on Hinata’s reaction.

Shōyō remained uncharacteristically quiet as he rambled on about how cute your soft tits were, only speaking to quietly excuse himself to the bathroom. He was careful, but not careful enough to hide the tent in his shorts.

Not one to keep a secret, the words came tumbling from his mouth when he burst into your shared apartment.

“I think Hinata likes you!” He managed, tearing off his shoes to stumble into the hallway to wrap you in a tight hug like he did nearly every day.

“I-...what?” You choke, wrapping a tentative arm back around him and peeling away to look at him in the eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Not like… I don’t know, I think he wants to fuck you.” The smile on his face doesn’t waver, only confusing you.

“I’m not sure how to take this.” You deadpan, brows just short of knitting together. “Why…?”

“Well if you would like that I certainly wouldn’t mind.” His teeth graze over your skin as he pecks messy kisses all over your cheeks and neck.

“You wouldn’t mind?” You blankly repeat back, holding his back by his muscled shoulders to make him look you in the eyes. “Because not minding something and wanting something are very different and I just want to make sure whatever we’re about to talk about we’re just being really clear.”

Bokuto inhaled a massive breath, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he collected exactly what he wanted to say to you. Before he could, the smell coming from the kitchen distracted his senses, leaving him to weakly exhale and blink his eyes open. “Talk over dinner?”

The long talk over the dinner table was eventually fruitful. After he collected himself and stuffed his rumbling stomach, Bokuto was better able to explain what he had seen in Hinata. It made you recall every time you had seen him and you would be lying if you said you didn’t see it too. He wasn’t exactly a subtle person.

When it came down to it, you certainly weren’t opposed. Bokuto certainly seemed interested in the prospect of sharing you, especially with his favorite prodigy as he liked to class him. You recognized that Hinata was attractive and you had to admit that the concept of being squished between the two thick, bubbly men was alluring as long as he was truly interested.

Before the full invitation to come over for dinner - specially prepared by you - had even slipped from Bokuto’s mouth, Hinata was eagerly accepting. Part of you dreaded the entire ordeal, anxieties bubbling up about the lead up and the talking beforehand that you had foolishly agreed to do most of. Over dinner you stayed a little quieter than usual, trying to gauge Hinata’s expression and body language.

When he politely excuses himself to use the restroom after finishing, Bokuto grabs your hand across the table, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles.

“If you’re nervous we can stop right here.” He whispers, grinning softly.

You can’t help but smile back, shaking your head. “No, I’m okay,” you assure him, “I am a little nervous, but I really want to.”

He opens his mouth to say something else, but is cut off by the sound of the bathroom door closing and the soft pad of Hinata’s feet down the hallway. Clearing your throat, you give a reassuring smile to Bokuto, and stand to face where Hinata soon pops out of.

“Hinata, would you-”

“Shōyō is fine!” He interjects. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“That’s fine,” you smile, ghosting your hand down his arm and resting your palm against his elbow. “Shōyō, would you mind helping me wash up in the kitchen. I feel bad asking the guest, but Kōtarō has something for you and you’ll get to it faster if I finish this.”

Hinata can feel his heart pounding behind his rib cage so hard he worries you can hear his pulse reverberating. You look so sweet with those pleading eyes staring at him, the warm touch of your fingertips sending heat to his chest.

“Of course, I don’t mind.” He nods, letting you lead him a room away to the kitchen.

“Great, thank you, this is such a big help.” You grin while placing the dirty dishes in the sink before you and handing him a dry towel. “You can just dry and put them in the cabinet in front of you.”

“Okay,” he says quietly, eyeing down your low-cut shirt as you squeeze your arms together and lean down to grab the first bowl. His eyes roll to the back of his head when you turn the tap on a little too fast and water splashes all over the front of your thin, pale dress, making the black lacy bra underneath pop.

“Whoops!” You exclaim, smiling a little too happily, feeling how his feet shift beside you. “This tap is a little loose, I always get messy and wet trying to do anything.”

He has to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning, glad that your gaze is in the sink and not on his flushed face. He doesn’t want to feel this way about his friend’s girlfriend, but it’s so hard when you’re standing so close - did you take a step toward him? when did your hip start brushing against his? - and you look so pretty.

“So, Shōyō…” you start, handing him another dish, “Kōtarō talks about you a lot, you know.”

“Really?” His voice is pitched and strained, stopping short of choking on his own words.

“Yeah, he thinks you’re great. He was so excited when you joined the team. He, uh, he pays attention, a lot more than some people give him credit for.”

Hinata nods, carefully placing the bowl in the cupboard. “He’s great, I’ve always loved watching him play.”

“He’s fun to watch,” you agree, “You know he thinks….actually, can I just ask what your type is?” The words tumble out quickly as you try to gain confidence, a small bit of worry creeping into the back of your head.

“My type?” He repeats back, pausing in his drying motions. “I don’t know if I really have one. Just anyone I feel good with. Why?” When he turns to look at you again you’re turned to face him, a small smile lighting up your features.

“That’s a good way to look at things. I only ask because, well Kōtarō seems to think you have some kind of interest in me.” You force the words to come out casually, keeping your eyes on him. Hinata sputters and chokes on his own words, the way your hand comes down over his doing absolutely nothing to help him compose himself. “There’s no good way to say this, but he was thinking you could, uh well take what you’ve been thinking about, if you want to.”

Taking a deep swallow, he took a short deep breath to clear his mind. “And what do you think?”

Tension dissipates from your body at his question. “I think I would like you to do whatever you want. Touch me, kiss me, anything. Only if you want to.”

His fists clench and unclench again, gears turning in his head as he realizes this was planned. All those stories Bokuto told, the glint in his eyes for the past few weeks, the way you put yourself on display for him all night with that sly little smirk - it was all part of some plan. A little worried voice in the back of his head told him this was too good to be true. But you were offering yourself up to him, angled forward so your tits would pop and watching him so carefully as though he were a scared animal ready to run, and he knew it had to be true.

The timid, apprehensive look he had been sporting slowly drained from his face, replaced with a much more confident and delighted one. His hands moved from his sides to dig into your waist, lifting you up onto the counter behind you.

“Don’t tease me.” He whispers hoarsely, lips ghosting over the pulse of your throat. The loose dress Bokuto had purposefully picked out for you to wear for the evening rode up as Hinata settled his thick body between your welcoming knees.

“I’m not,” you pant, “Kōtarō really wanted this.”

A shuddered sigh comes from his chest as he rests his head against your shoulder, just barely kissing the soft spot between your neck and shoulder. You fidget restlessly, trying to pull his still body closer to no avail.

“Wanna know he wants this.” He says eventually. “I trust you, I just…”

“No, no, I get it.” You say a little too abruptly, fishing around for where your phone was tossed onto the counter. With shaky hands you hurried to click it open, immediately going to your messages, scrolling to the most recent chat with Bokuto where he depicted how much he wanted to see you fucked out on his and Hinata’s cocks in vivid detail. You push the phone into his hand. “You can scroll wherever, he mentioned it before that one’s just… yeah.”

“Oh, wow.” He breathes, glancing through a few other messages from earlier in the week. Gently, he sets the phone down beside you before pulling your hips to the edge of the counter. His lips collide with the base of your throat knocking the air right from you.

You wind your fingers up in his hair as he pressed harsh kisses straight down your front, his rough hands pushing the skirt of your dress up even higher, leaving the tops of your thighs completely exposed. He keeps journeying lower until his cheek is flush to the hem of your panties. When his nose presses up against the slowly growing damp patch leaking his shoulders heave as though to hold himself back.

“And he doesn’t want us to wait up…?”

Truthfully, you didn’t know completely. Bokuto had asked to make some kind of subtle move on Hinata in private, he figured it would be less stressful for the both of you, but he hadn’t said how far to go with him, and you weren’t really sure what he was doing in some other part of the house, and Hinata’s fingers were so hot against your skin…

“No, it’s fine.” You pant, desperation evident in your voice. He doesn’t need much more, hand moving to pull the stretchy fabric you had purposefully worn to the side, his wide tongue darting out to lap up the wetness seeping from you.

With an aching whine, you lean into his touch, massaging his head and bringing him closer to you with every burning second that passes. Not that you had expected him to be inexperienced by any means, but you hadn’t expected him to be so good. He was loud, moaning against your cunt as he buried his tongue inside of you, nose tapping against your pleading clit.

The sound of your breathy whimpers and the loud slurping squelches drowned out the steps coming down the hall or the kitchen door swinging open. Bokuto stood there for a moment with a small smile, admiring how pretty you looked like this, even if he wished it were him, but he couldn’t let the moment pass him by.

“Puppy,” he sighed. The first syllable was enough to make Hinata pop off of you and stumble back to turn around, eyes hazy and drunken of the taste of you. Ignoring the hardened look in Bokuto’s eyes, you pouted sweetly, spreading your legs a little more to let him see your soiled panties.

“Kōtar-”

“You’re being greedy, don’t you think, puppy? Going ahead without me like that.” He imitates you with a fake pout, the look never quite meeting his blazing eyes. You can feel what’s coming and make no more attempt to argue. Hinata is taking in the interaction, still halfway in his own daze. “She’s great, huh, Shōyō? Pretty little pussy and she makes the best noises, especially when she’s crying for your cock.”

Hinata swallows hard, absentmindedly palming over his pants where he’s quickly grown half-hard. “Yeah, she’s, yeah no, uh she’s really great. This is still okay?”

Both of you nod quickly, reassuring him, but you remain silent for now, trying to settle before you know what’s to come.

“Totally okay as long as you’re okay.” Bokuto drops the edge in his tone to carefully watch him for a moment, assessing.

“Completely.” He agrees with a dreamy sigh.

Nodding again, Bokuto approaches the two of you. Refusing to meet his eyes you stare just ahead at the door.

“Oh, don’t look so sad, puppy, you know you’ll get what you want in the end anyway.” He jabs as he scoops you over his shoulder and gives you a gentle pat on the back of your thighs. “Let’s at least go to the living room.”

You glance back at Hinata, mouthing a silent whoops, while Bokuto leads him around the corner. Bokuto plops into the corner of the couch, back propped up by the plush arm, and maneuvering your pliable body to sit comfortably in his lap with your back pulled up flush to his chest. You’re gently pushed forward so he can peel the dress off and unclasp your bra. He’s calm for now, at least on the outside, but you can feel his heart pounding through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Don’t need these anymore,” he hums, latching his fingers in the sides of your underwear and motioning for you to lift your hips to let him slide them off. Hooking his elbows under your knees, he pulls your thighs to your chest, high enough so that he can palm your breasts. Quietly whining, you turn your head away so you don’t have to look directly up at Hinata - not that he’d notice your face with the way your cunt was glistening under the low, soft lights of the room. “Shh,” he directs at you before glancing back up at Hinata, “go ahead, but don’t let her cum.”

With a warm grin he gets on his knees between Bokuto’s spread legs. You almost felt too exposed, all power taken from your hands, splayed open like this. Bokuto slots his chin against your shoulder and presses the softest kiss to your cheek in stark contrast to the way his rough hands are kneading and pinching your sensitive breasts.

Hinata eagerly gets back to it, lavishing your cunt with softer licks than before, making your hips shake as they seek out more friction. While your neediness grows so too does Bokuto’s grip on you.

“So pretty,” he coos, eyes glued to where Hinata was firmly pressed against you. Pride bloomed in his chest at the sight of his teammate sloppily eating out his favorite girl so enthusiastically, appreciating you so much as he should.

It’s impossible for him to not get rock hard with the way you’re grinding down into his lap and the crude, wet sounds and groans vibrating from the back of Hinata’s throat.

“Taste so good.” Hinata grumbles, pulling back and forcing his tense hips to stop rutting into the couch cushion. He feels himself making a mess in his pants, hoping that he isn’t leaking through to your nice furniture, but he can’t quite bring himself to stop either. Both Bokuto and you watch the string - you’re not sure whether it’s his spit or your own wetness - that stays connected between your slit and his puffy, glossy lips.

“Good...good job.” Bokuto sighs. You’re not sure if he’s praising you or Hinata, but you don’t have much time to think too hard about it before he releases your legs and wedges his hands under between himself and you to pull his straining cock from his pants. Mind buzzing, still a little hazy from the feeling of Hinata’s tongue, you grab out from him, pulling on the band of his pants. Truthfully, he’s not quite sure what you’re asking for but he does know how tight his balls are and how inviting your cunt looks.

Just as Bokuto is settling his cock between your ass, Hinata’s pants are slipped off, thrown to the ground. He dips his head down to take one of your breasts into his mouth, moaning around you and pressing in close so his tip catches against your clit. At your whiny cry and keening, Bokuto lets out a low, single chuckle. “Don’t let her have your cock, not all the way. You were being so greedy earlier puppy, I don’t think you deserve it yet.”

Hinata keeps his mouth firmly planted on your chest and reaches down to perfectly slip himself between the top of your folds, acutely aware of Bokuto’s heavy head just barely bumping against the base of his own cock. They’re both so thick and heavy as they rabidly hump against you, Bokuto maneuvering your body for you back and forth across both of them. Everything is warm and wet between Hinata’s mouth on your chest and Bokuto’s lips kissing down the side of your neck.

The tease of release that’s been creeping up on you for so long draws closer and closer. Hinata’s cock is catching so exactly on your swollen clit and Bokuto’s tip keeps threatening to slip past your entrance, slick dripping past your thighs.

“Gonna, ahg, cu-cum!” You manage out, hips already bouncing on their own accord against them.

“Go ahead.” Bokuto says with a shaky breath, squeezing you as tight as he could between his body and Hinata’s. One more roll of their hips has you crashing down, pleasure rolling through your body. All you can feel is warmth and overwhelming satisfaction as you twitch between their arms, creaming across their cocks. “Good girl, good girl…” you faintly hear Bokuto coo into your ear as you slump back against him.

The buzzing, quiet moment is quickly squashed as he hoists you out of his lap and onto all fours. He’s talking to Hinata and you know you should be listening, but your pussy is still throbbing and you’re trying to catch your breath.

“...okay, baby?” You catch the very end of his sentence and blink hard, desperate to refocus.

“W-wait, what? Sorry, I just-”

“It’s okay, puppy,” he rubs a soothing hand down your back, slowly bringing you back to reality. “Need a second?”

You shake your head, the last of the fog slipping away. Before you, you see Hinata, his rigid cock slicked up by you only a few inches from your face. “I’m okay now, can you just say that again?”

“‘Course,” he grins, teasing your entrance, “I said I’m going to take your pretty pussy from back here and Shōyō is going to use your mouth. If you want.”

Wiggling your hips back to meet his and craning your neck up to look at Hinata you give a deft nod.

“I do, I want that.” You sigh.

Trembling with excitement, already so riled up from feeling you cum against him, Hinata shuffles the last bit forward. He’s pretty and much thicker than you had imagined. The tight strain of scattered veins and his heavy balls tell you all you need to know about how pent up he obviously is. Reaching out with palms still a bit shaky, you helped to reel him in the rest of the way with welcoming, parted lips.

You wrapped your fingers tightly around where you couldn’t quite reach, sloppily taking more and more of him with each bob of your head. His salty precum meshed with what was leftover of your own mess, the taste making you moan around his length.

Bokuto was trying to move slower now, recognizing that you were easily slipping, but the way you rocked your body back and forth bumping against his sensitive, reddened tip, he couldn’t hold back much more. Digging his fingers into your hip, he eased the motions of your body, lining himself up, resisting from plowing into you at full force.

“Ready?” He asks, nearly whining. At the sound of his voice, you pull off from Hinata, letting your quickly tiring jaw grow slack.

“Uh-huh.” You barely heave out before wrapping your lips around him again. So sure you can take both at once and not falter, you ramp back up to your original pace, slobbering down his cock, the click of your quick motions echoing around your head. Unfortunately for your ego, you’re dead wrong.

Bokuto wastes no time drilling himself into you, setting a bruising pace straight from the beginning. It’s all you can do to loudly moan around Hinata’s cock, still stuffed in your mouth by the slight pistoning of his hips, the way Bokuto is ramming you forward only forcing him deeper down your throat.

As you gag, sputter, and moan down his length, drool dripping onto the already soiled cushions below, Hinata feels the pressure building and building in his core. Electricity tingles down his limbs, aided by the fucked out look in your pretty eyes. He doesn’t even have to move now with the way Bokuto is railing you against him. He wonders if you realize he’s close when you suck a little tight, cheeks hollowing as you take a little more of him, the hand that had been working his base coming down to lightly hold his swollen balls.

You don’t know. At this point, you’re moving on autopilot, simply trying your best. Your brain doesn’t know where to focus - Hinata filling out your mouth or Bokuto as he purposely alternates between hitting against your spongy spot and deep inside of you. It’s all a mess of spit, sweat, and cum, but you don’t think you’ve felt the rush of pleasure that comes with being used so well by more than one person.

Bokuto doesn’t know how much longer he can last. You’re clamping around, cunt fluttering each time his digs in a little deep or Hinata’s cock twitches against your tongue. He can tell by the scrunched up expression on his friend’s face that he can’t last much longer and he doesn’t blame him. Between fucking against your pussy and being wrapped up in your pretty mouth, no one really could. He’s determined to hold out though, a little spark of competition lighting up his chest. When Bokuto’s strokes suddenly slow you groan again, the vibrations dragging a stuttered moan from Hinata’s pretty lips.

“Gonna, hngh, uh gonna cum.” He sputters out, hips quivering as he tries to hold back from fucking too far back into your throat. At that, Bokuto’s hips speed up again, forcing a little whimpered cry, muffled by the cock in your mouth, from you. Still, you force yourself to focus on Hinata, sucking him dry as soon as the first spurt of cum hits the back of your throat.

He cums fast and hard and a lot. It’s seeping out from your lips, making him messier than he already was until he’s pulling his softening length from your mouth and flopping back against the couch, gently rubbing your arm while he catches his breath. With a heavy grin, Bokuto shoves a hand between your shoulder blades, knocking you into Hinata’s lap. Somewhat in vain, you try to clean him off between the pitchy mewls and cries that you breathe out while Bokuto chases his own release.

In no time, he’s there again, his own pressure built up as high as it could just before he burst inside of you. He fucks himself raw, your tight hole sucking him in, his cum only making it easier to slip in and out of you. Knowing he’ll finish when he’s completely spent, you lie limp in Hinata’s lap and he lazily wraps a hand around the back of your neck, soothing the leftover tension. You recognize Bokuto’s nearly done when his cock stops twitching and his hips slot against yours with some finality just before he slumps over you.

Whining when he slips out, even soft his cock is still a tight squeeze, you fall all the way against the couch, legs giving out at last. He falls back against the back, moving your legs to sit on top of his thighs and massaging them with great care. Completely spent and drifting half-asleep you just barely hear him.

“So,” he starts, head lolling toward Hinata who’s still lightly working his fingers against your upper back, “Dinner next week?”

#bokuto x reader #hinata x reader #bokuto smut #hinata smut #bokuto x you #hinata x you #hq smut #haikyu x reader #haikyuu smut #hinata shoyo smut #bokuto kotaro smut #hq x reader

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karlsjackbox · 4 years ago

Text

the end. | irl!quackity x gn!reader

A VIEW OF two people falling out of love.

type: angst

warnings: taking pills (brief, not much context), swearing, fight, death threat

w/c: 1.6k

quackity pushed his hair out of his face, fingers placing themselves in a rhythm on the keyboard. music played through his headphones, placed on the second to last volume to help soothe his aching headache. eyes traveling to the corner of the screen, his eyebrows furrowed at the sight of it being 4:57am. rubbing his eyes, he leaned back and let out a sigh. saving the document he was writing on, quackity shut off the monitor and shuffled his feet.

the door across the room opened. snapping his eyes forward, quackity was met with his s/o holding their cat, tired smile adorning their face. quackity mirrored the smile, pushing himself off of the chair and standing beside his love. “you’re awake late.” he muttered, though his words slurred together. y/n looked at him with a lopsided grin, pressing a short kiss to his lips. “couldn’t sleep without you.” quackity gasped, using his hands to cover tiger’s eyes.

the paired laughed, dragging themselves to the bedroom.

it had been a few weeks. y/n’s eyes forced themselves open, bed empty beside them. quackity was laughing down the hallway, having to ignored the text from y/n asking him to tone down just a little. rubbing their eyes, y/n sat up and tapped on their phone. 4:23 am. muttering a curse to themself, they laid back down. shutting their eyes, y/n eventually fell asleep to the sound of their boyfriends muffled laughter and curses.

quackity ended the stream near 5am. he leaned back with a sigh, rubbing his face as the discord call eventually dropped. grabbing his phone, he check notifications and read the text from y/n with a frown. he texted a quick sorry ! just saw this :( coming to bed now <3. with no text back, he pushed himself off of the chair and shuffled his way to the bedroom. tiger rubbed against his leg, the mexican biting a smile back. y/n laid curled up, body facing the wall as they snored quietly.

quackity shuffled out of his day clothes, sliding into pajamas as he laid beside y/n and fell asleep.

y/n danced around the kitchen, music playing quietly through their phone as they made their breakfast. they hummed along, carefully pouring their cereal into their bowl. scratching their chin, they turned at the noise of somebody behind them. quackity stood in the doorway, hair messed up from sleep. “hi, my love.” y/n greeted.

taking a minute to answer, quackity shut off his phone and sighed. “good morning.” he sat down at the table, rubbing his eyes. “whats up?” y/n asked, pouring their milk and grabbing a spoon from the drawer. they sat across from quackity, who had picked up his phone as it buzzed.

“tommy wants me to record today and george wants me on his stream. i’m trying to make them both work and i just don’t know if i can.” quackity explained, using his hand for more emphasize. y/n swallowed the cereal before answering, crossing their legs at the ankle. “i think you need a day off.” they huffed, eyes rolling. “i wish.” quackity responded, standing to make his own cereal.

“i’m serious. we haven’t spent time together in forever.” y/n shrugged, getting no response. “i can try for soon, but definitely not today.” quackity kissed y/n’s temple before he sat across from them again.

quackity didn’t talk to y/n until the next afternoon.

y/n sat on the couch, holding a mug of hot cocoa. their legs were crossed, eye trained to the television screen as rapunzel played. they hummed along to the songs, turning at the sound of footsteps. quackity held his phone to his ear, laughing at something somebody said.

y/n smiled at him and gave a short wave, quackity repeating the wave and making his way into the kitchen. the refrigerator door opened and closed, y/n turning their head and resuming the movie.

quackity took out the strawberry container from the fridge and made his way into the living room, standing at the doorway as he listened to karl talk. eventually he tossed the container away, finishing the strawberries and going back upstairs to his recording room.

by the time the movie finished, the sun was barely kissing the horizon. turning spotify on through the tv, music started to play through the playlist, ‘y/n & quackity!!’. y/n smiled at the memory of them sitting together and making the playlist on their second date.

making their way into the kitchen, y/n opened the cabinet and pulled out the pasta noodles. pulling out a pot and filling it with water, they began to boil it and dump in the noodles. their phone gave a simple ding! and another notification came through.

alex<3: can u plz turn music down? streaming soon x

y/n frowned, though gave a simple thumbs up. they tapped the spoon on the side of the bowl and left it to drip, entering the living room and shutting of the tv in a whole. tiger sat on the couch, head peeking up with a quiet ‘mrrp?’ as the noise suddenly ended. cooing, y/n walked over and scooped him up, cradling him as they made their way into the kitchen again to stir the pasta.

setting tiger down on the floor after 15 minutes, y/n scooped the pasta into two seperate bowls and ran butter through them. deciding against sauce, y/n placed the bowls on the table and texted quackity.

you: made pasta !! <3

the food was still untouched by the next morning.

it had been a while since then. y/n woke up before quackity. they were faced with his back, black sweatshirt hugging his body. they sat up slowly, sun fading through the curtains and hitting the blanket. they shivered a little, blinking hard a few times to try and wake themselves up. after a few more moments, they pulled their legs out from underneath the blanket and carefully moved away from quackity and out of the room.

quackity woke up an hour or so later, groaning softly as the sun had now positioned itself to hit his eyes directly. he sat up, head turning to look at y/n. frowning as nobody was there, he picked up his phone and drug himself out of the room. the house was empty as he searched around for his s/o, frown adorning his face.

standing in front of the fridge, a sticky note hung to it.

quackity ripped off the sticky note, crumbling it in his pocket as he opened the fridge to search for his breakfast.

y/n returned home that night to the noise of muffled swears and laughter, though y/n wore mainly a frown. their bones ached and a headache roared. sighing, they dropped their bag and kicked off their shoes and made their way into the bathroom. they opened the medicine cabinet and took out tylenol, swallowing the pill with sink water in their mouth.

rubbing their nose, y/n made their way upstairs to their bedroom. they grabbed clean clothes and made their way into the bathroom, turning on the shower and letting the water run until it was hot. they stripped and dropped their clothes onto the floor, pushing them into the corner before stepping into the shower. y/n couldn’t help the sigh that escaped their mouth as everything from the day washed away, lathering their hair with shampoo and conditioner.

quackity ended the stream around the same time that y/n stepped out of the shower. he sat at his desk for a moment longer, chatter with his friends slowly dying down. “hey guys, i’m gonna head off now.” after a wave of goodbyes, he left the discord call and stood up.

quackity made his way into the bedroom, y/n sat on the edge of the bed. sliding off his beanie, quackity ruffled his hair and let himself fall beside his s/o. they didn’t talk, y/n texting somebody before shutting off their phone. they let out a sigh and rubbed their face, tossing their phone beside them.

curling up, y/n and quackity fell asleep facing each other for the last time.

they woke up at the same time. y/n sat up and rubbed their eyes, yawn falling from their mouth. there was a tension in the room quackity couldn’t figure out. “hey, wanna watch a movie?” y/n asked, scratching their nose as they met eyes with their sleepy boyfriend. “mm.. i can’t. i have homework and i have to be on a stream,” quackity slurred, missing how y/n’s eyebrows furrowed. tsking, y/n stood. “right.”

quackity’s head shot up at their tone. “what do you mean?” he questioned, choosing to stay silent on their eye roll. “you haven’t spent time with me in ages. i’m shocked i even fell asleep with you beside me.” the younger shrugged, opening their closet to pull out a sweatshirt.

“yeah, because its my job? the fuck do you mean?” quackity sat up, leaning his weight on his hands. “okay? you can still make time for me. i’m not just somebody who feeds you, alex.” y/n turned to meet his eyes, hands resting on their hips. “i can handle myself, you know.” quackity rolled his eyes.

“i wanna see you fucking try.” y/n looked the older up and down. “you just mooch off of me anyway. if you’re so pissy about me working then leave.” quackity seethed, anger radiating off of me. he froze as the words fell out of his mouth, y/n’s hands dropping. “i hope you fucking starve. waste of space.” y/n cursed, turning and grabbing their bag from the closet.

“y/n, i didn’t-- we didn’t mean that.” quackity apologized, stepping towards the younger. y/n stayed silent, shoving random clothes into their backpack. quackity didn’t try to fight them, standing and watching them pack with tears brimming his eyes.

“..is it the end for us?” it was silent. the silence pushed against quackity’s skull, taunting him in a way he would remember forever. y/n turned, face blank as their eyes were puffy.

“it was the end a long time ago.”

#quackity x reader #quackity x you #mcyt x reader #streamer x reader #streamer x you #mcyt x you #dsmp x reader #dsmp imagine #dream smp imagines #dream smp x reader #dsmp imagines

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jd-loves-fiction · 4 years ago

Text

➤”I’d like one order of Mando adventure angst with a side of fluff and a dash of spicy bickering. Enemies to lovers or friends to lovers flavor (whatever’s on the house) and a nice hot bowl of ‘there was only one bed’

Give my compliments to the chef”

➤ genre: Fluff, Adventure, Comedy(?), Enemies to Partners, Angst

➤ wc: 4.9k (holy shit might be my longest request🥴)

➤ 🌙 Requested: @batarella ❤

"Listen, buddy, I got here first." You attempt to reason with the wall of beskar currently pointing his blaster directly at you.

Maybe not the smartest thing to say when first meeting someone of his reputation, but he can only be doing this for one reason.

He's after the bounty squirming nervously at your feet. And you're in the way.

Why else would he be out here, in the middle of a rocky desert on some faraway planet?

"Step away from him." The voice you hear startles you with its modulated dept. It's more surprising that he even spoke at all, given what you'd heard of the Mandalorian. Although his stature and the silent tension he brings with him is no doubt intimidating, you will not give up so easily after following this bounty so far out from the nearest town. “No.”

His visor tilts to the side, like a frustrated twitch, at your answer. “Maybe.” You rectify, which makes him raise his head in interest. “Do you have a fob?”

“No, I don’t.”

Not that it matters anymore considering yours is broken, but at least now you know he can't follow you if you make a break for it with the bounty.

“How did you find us?”

“I have my ways.” You nearly roll your eyes at his cryptic response, not like you expected anything else from a Mandalorian.

“Do you know why they sent you?” Knowing your employers, you had a clue on what the reason was. They got impatient.

They’d been pretty determined to get a maximum time needed out of you. You’re almost sure you overstepped it.

But to send a Mandalorian? Seems like a bit much.

“They were afraid you’d run off. That you gave the bounty away to the Resistance.” Of course, those bastards can barely trust themselves, let alone a foreigner.

“Well I didn't, and I won't. So you can lower your blaster and we can do this together.” You offer amicably, not yet loosening your grip on your weapon upon his lack of movement.

“You’re out of time. Your deal is off.”

“That’s just-!” You're cut off by a shot buzzing past you.

"Last warning."

Your jaw drops. How can someone be so damn cold?

You raise your finger assertively, about to give him a piece of your mind, when you notice something move by his hip.

And it's green. With gigantic ears. And huge dark eyes that blink at you curiously.

Your head tilts, mirroring the creature. The Mandalorian follows your eyes to find you looking at the child he’s supposed to be caring for.

“Huh. And who is that cutie?” The blaster already pointed at you raises from where it had begun to slouch, alert and cautious. Noticing this, you readjust your grip on your own weapon.

You and the creature continue to study each other, until the Mandalorian pushes the brown bag to where it rests behind his body protectively.

“Are they yours? I mean, doesn't look like the ears would fit.” You speak just to make conversation, stepping closer with miniscule steps. His gloved hand tightens around his blaster, hoping to remind you that he can still shoot you point-blank.

But he hasn't.

"Can you really do much in front of a kid?" You challenge smugly, still advancing slowly.

"He's seen me do worse."

"That right?" Another step. "You planning to shoot me today or would tomorrow work better?"

"Are you always this difficult? Just put the gun down-"

You jump towards him, hooking your foot around the back of his knee which makes him fall to the rocky ground immediately, dropping his blaster. Unfortunately, taking down a Mandalorian is no easy task, so he takes you down with him.

He throws his satchel to the side in the nick of time, it lands on a sand pile. His other arm grabs hold of you to pull you down with him.

You point your blaster at him as he lays beneath you, except it is no longer in your hand. Shit. He punches you in the face hard enough that something will turn black soon enough.

As you fall to the ground he gets on top of you, or tries, as you place your feet against his firm chest to keep some distance. You kick him in the helmet, silently thanking the stars your shoes are steel toed.

Your hand only scrapes against dry, red, sand covered rock as you search for a blaster, either would serve. Despite your momentary advantage in light of the Mandalorian’s confusion after being kicked, his hands quickly come down to cover your throat. You feel the creases in the leather as they’re pressed against your skin, and the beskar over the back of his hands against your chin.

But you still attempt to reach a weapon, a rock would do at this point.

Your arms flail wildly with no real direction, only the need to stay conscious, as if movement would help it. You do, however, notice that he’s purposely avoiding your traquia.

He still does not want to kill you. How sweet. Probably just wants to take you back to the bastards who hired you. They’d surely kill you, and much faster too.

Just as the spots in your vision start becoming overpowering, his grip loosens. You inhale greedily, desperately, gasping and coughing at the released pressure.

You can see his visor move to and fro, searching for something. Once you look to the side, you the child safe in its pile of sand, so it can't be that.

"Dank farrik! He's gone." The bounty. Right. Shit.

"Now," you pause, heaving as your lungs struggle to fill up again, "what?"

He places his hands on his hips, thinking for a moment, before turning his visor to where you lay clutching your sore - but not yet bruised - neck. "I'm going after him."

"I'm sorry-?!" You cut yourself off with a cough as you sit up, feeling grains of sand make their way inside your boots and other places. "You're going after him? This is my bounty! I had him, and I would've been fine if you hadn't shown up."

He keeps his stance, probably glaring disapprovingly beneath his helmet. You huff at his unyielding silence, getting up in his personal space and jabbing a finger into his chest plate.

"I'm about to give you a piece of my mind, so you better listen very carefully. I had it! It was my catch. And from what I can tell, it still is. So you better back off, Mando." Venom drips from your lips as you glare at the tin can on his head as if you could put a hole straight through it.

He relaxes, raising his hands again peacefully, palms up, "Alright, I get it. But do you think they'd take him from you now? Let alone later when you actually catch him? They seem pretty vindictive."

"Well, what do you suggest? You're not going on your own."

"And why not?" He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans towards you.

"You don't have a tracking fob." You retort, leaning towards him as well with your hands on your hips.

The Mandalorian pats himself down where he believes to have stored the small device, only to find all those pockets empty. "You little thief!"

"And you're a liar! Plus, you think I'd just let you take my credits? Come on, with your reputation, you should know better than that." You shrug and suddenly Din is acutely aware that the beeping now comes from your hip instead of his.

"Alright, fine, let's do it this way. We'll look for him together and once we catch him, I'll hand him in and we'll split the reward." He explains slowly, carefully, afraid to set you off.

"Seems good to me." You speak resolutely, thrusting your hand forward firmly, expecting a handshake.

His helmet tilts down slightly as he looks down at your hand, before he reaches out with his own. Just as the leather meets your skin - in a now less life-threatening way - a coo sounds from somewhere at your feet, making you both look down to see the little green creature looking between the two of you curiously.

You look back at it, mirroring it once more, before it smiles wide revealing its tiny little teeth and, oh, your heart might just actually melt.

It's large eyes move down from your face, towards your hands.

You suddenly realize neither you nor the Mandalorian had let go of each other's hand and that a large grin has formed on your face due to the adorable baby. It is promptly wiped off as you pull your hand back just as he does. He looks away while you shrug at the child's inquisitive stare, unaware that the bounty hunter had been watching you and marveling at the bond you'd both formed already.

And so you set out together to look for your target, back towards town, where you had begun your chase.

He can't have gone far or in any other direction, not with the unbearable heat and certainly not while handcuffed. He'd die for sure, you just have to hope he's smart enough to know that.

You walk through town with the fob in your hand, just out of sight. No need for unnecessary attention. The town is tightly crowded, much to your chagrin, so you move slow and are barely able to see over the moving bodies. There’s just too much going on, too many people moving back and forth, shoving past you rudely. If it’d been anyone else - not an experienced bounty hunter - you would have probably been knocked down by the last two men that had scurried past you in a rush.

Without warning, you feel a hand grip your bicep. You immediately ready yourself for a fight, before you realize it belongs to your associate. Once he has your attention, Mando nods towards the edge to the street, against red stone buildings, urging you to follow him. You do, nudging anyone out of the way as you walked against the crowd’s stream.

You’re about to shout over the noise to ask just what the hell he pulled you aside for, considering you’re running out of time, before you follow his visor. Right to a wanted poster of a very familiar scoundrel. From the Resistance? Wanted alive for 8,000 credits?

“That’s one big fish, huh?" You continue to shout in order to be heard over the crowd, which you immediately regret, looking around, paranoid. "Must be important." You comment to yourself.

You look up to see the Mandalorian's back disappear behind the corner. You quickly follow, catching up to his long strides, "What are you thinking?"

He ignores your inquiry, continuing to practically stomp his way through town. "Hey. Hey!" You call out to no avail. Well, you asked for it.

You reach out, grabbing the man by the back of his cape, tightening it around his neck and making it so he had to lean back to follow your hand in order to keep breathing. Your heart beats faster at the rush of power you feel for a moment. "You better tell me what you're thinking, or this is not gonna work."

He taps your hand repeatedly until you let go, rising to his full height and you're back to feeling slightly intimidated as he stares you down, silently.

"I'm thinking that with a price that high you might actually take the bounty yourself."

"Why-?"

The tracking fob. The small object suddenly burned a whole in your pocket.

"Oh come on! You were trying to kill me!"

Your voice raises, arms flailing about. You know you're making a scene, considering this street is so much emptier and therefore quieter than the main one, but for the moment, you don't care. Right now, all you want is to put Mando in his place. Something you know is foolish given that he nearly killed you before and could actually do it this time.

"Yes, but it's still stealing." He spoke with that know-it-all, I'm-better-than-you, tone that just gets on your nerves. Bastard.

You raise a finger in the man's direction, fully intending to continue this conversation and clear your name in his eyes - the reason why is unknown even to you - when a shrill giggle cuts through the air. You look to Mando's hip, where the creature (who's name you have yet to learn) sits, pointing ahead to the entrance to the cantina.

Right at the man of the hour.

What? How?!

The man looks back at you and Mando for a moment, eyes widening as he recognizes you and the fact that this might be it.

Before he takes off running.

You start running before Mando does, easily catching up to the stout man, who's no longer in cuffs. As you get too close to his liking, he takes out a blaster (that you know isn't his) and tries to shoot you in the head. Only to miss and hit your forearm instead.

Hurts like a bitch, but it's better than death.

Out of the corner of your eye you see a steel rope of some kind shoot out and wrap around the fugitive's leg, sending him stumbling face first onto the ground.

Mando walks over to him, barely winded, standing over the panting man and blocking the sun with his body. You can only imagine the man's terrified expression.

You quickly take care of your wound as Mando ties the man up enough that he can't move, wincing as you look at the damage made on your skin. The burning nearly stops the bleeding and it hurts so bad you can barely process it, so you don't think about it, you simply level your breathing while wrapping a cloth around the wound and hope for the best considering it's not too big.

You clutch it to your chest as Mando approaches, pointing at your arm, intending to ask you if you're alright, but you move it to your side before he can. "Are you-"

"We should give him to the Resistance." You speak resolutely, holding back from wincing as your injury rubbed against your pants. It hurt even from beneath a (barely) protective cloth.

“I said ‘we’, so don't you start giving me shit, alright?” You tell him sternly after he crosses his arms, probably getting ready to call you a thief again. “You can't give him to the Resistance because they’ll arrest you, correct?” He nods.

“Well you know bounty hunting isn't exactly legal.”

“You don't have to tell me that, Mando.” You remind him firmly. “So, if we give him to them, we can ask for them to clear your name! And we’ll get double the reward. Two birds with one stone!”

“Do you really think they’d just do that?”

“If someone’s paying 8,000 credits for one guy and specifying they want him alive, then I’d bet they’d do anything to get him, even something as seemingly insignificant as clearing your name.” You explain, gesturing avidly as you do.

A long moment of silence passes before a modulated sigh crackles through Mando’s helmet. “Fine. I’ll go get the Crest.”

“Wait, woah woah woah. Why are you going? How do I know you wont leave me out here?”

“How do I know you wouldn't?” You take a moment to consider his words. He did lie to you, but you did steal from him in a way.

You look down in contemplation, eyes meeting the creature’s. Right, Mando has the kid, who probably isn't fit to be out in this heat for as long as it has.

“He got a name?” You point to the child, who smiles and giggles gleefully.

“Grogu.” You nod, sighing and rubbing your temples. Stars, it’s so hot it feels as if your brain is melting and you can feel a headache coming on.

“You can go. But I want you to swear on your,” You pause for a second, searching for the right word, “honorable code. Swear you’ll come back.”

“You-” The Mandalorian starts, before giving up on protesting at your determined stand, crossed arms and raised chin. “OK, alright. I swear that I’ll come back for you and the bounty. That we need.” He whispers the last part.

“Get to it then. I’m sweating bullets in this heat!”

You sit, back against a nearby rock, searching for as much shade as possible. You don't want to move the bounty back into town for a multitude of reasons, so now you’re stuck just outside of town. Sweat making your clothes stick and it gathers while the headache gets worse and more blood soaks your makeshift bandage, but at least it's silent. That's what you thought about 20 minutes ago, now, you’ve changed your mind.

“The hell did you do to get 8,000 credits on your head?” You ask suddenly, seemingly startling the man who seems to have accepted his fate already.

He sighs, probably just as bored as you, “I have some information they want. That's why they want me alive.” You purse your lips in interest, humming in understanding, before silence falls over you two once more.

Stars, it's hot.

You could cry from relief once you hear the sound of a loud engine getting closer and closer. The 'Crest', as Mando had called it.

You grab the bounty by the shirt, hauling him to his feet rather roughly and shoving him towards the flying hunk of metal that had just landed.

The ship. Mando doesn't come out to greet you.

As the ramp closes and the air is blanketed in a sheet of silence, your mind starts to wander without your permission. You know he has to be handsome under there, what with his broad shoulders and slim waist, deliciously thick thighs and a wonderfully smooth and deep voice that seems to caress your very soul as you hear it. You caught a glimpse of his skin when you pulled at his collar, delightfully tan just begging for you to sink your teeth into it.

Must be the heat. Surely that is the sole reason why you're fantasizing so vividly about a man whose real name you don't know, whose face you've never seen and oh, a man who tried to kill you. But didn't.

Sick of your own thoughts and the loud snores of the bounty, you rise to your feet, climbing the ladder that leads to the cockpit. You wince as you put part of your weight on your injured arm, deciding to climb the rest of the ladder one handed instead.

“Are you decent?” You shout through the thick metal door, hoping Mando can hear you inside the cockpit. When the heavy doors hiss and open, you’re sure he must be.

You sit down in the passenger seat silently, looking up at the stars above for a long moment. The mesmerizing, endlessly dark sky is all that you see at first, from being partially blinded by the fluorescent lights inside the Crest, before the stars come to you, bright speckles that dust the planetary systems all around you. Breathtaking.

You look back in front of yourself to find Grogu already staring at you, head tilted with a smile that shows the slightest hint of tiny teeth. You smile, leaning forward with a raised brow. He leans closer to you, eyes lingering in the side of your face, the one already darkening from Mando’s blow, before dipping down to the arm you hold close to your chest. You let go of it immediately as he does, wanting to shield him from seeing the blood you know can be seen through the cloth.

The child steps closer, as far as he can while up on the dashboard. Mando has to be avoiding you, before he would've seen that movement otherwise.

It reaches out his small hand, squeezing his eyes as tightly as possible while the green limb twitches. You furrow your brows in confusion, what?

The ache on your skin lessens gradually, as if the wound was being lifted from your skin. You can feel it on your arm, it tickles as your skin connects itself around the wound while the burn disappears as if you’d just placed ice over it.

At some point, your eyes close, lulled nearly to sleep by the lifting of the pain, the feeling left behind makes your skin tingle with energy just beneath, your head feels light for a second, as if the blood moved from there down to heal the wounds.

When you open your eyes, you’re met with Mando’s visor trained on your face, silent in a way you can tell he’s speechless. “Eyes on the road, Mando.” You tell him cheekily, voice cracking unexpectedly.

He turns back forward, pausing his steering to pull Grogu forward and away from the edge, before his hands return to the commands. “So, is it far still?”

“No, just a few more hours. The closest Resistance base is just on the next planet.” His fingers flick switches and pull levers, before he seemingly puts the vehicle on autopilot and turns to you. “You can take the cot, you must be tired.”

You blink at him, “And what about you?”

“I’ll be fine.” He answers gruffly, not sparing you a glance.

“No, it’s gonna be a few hours, and you’ve been awake for about as much as me so if anyone is taking the cot, it’s you.” You argue back firmly.

He sighs, loosening the cape around his neck as a way to calm himself down, you and your selflessness.

“Alright. No promises that I’ll sleep though.” He acts like it’s a huge burden, as if it pains him deeply.

He takes Grogu in his arms and towards his sleeping nook. The small child smiles at you from over his guardian’s shoulder, and you smile back.

Once he’s safely put away and the bounty checked on, Mando leads you to a space just off the main hull space, where a bed - with the thinnest mattress you’ve ever seen - is pulled from the wall. Oh boy, you can already feel your back aching, but it’s better than sitting in the cockpit on those hard chairs.

So you lay down your weapons while he takes off the bulkiest of his armour. You lay down, curled on your side and away from him, knowing he’ll have to cuddle close to fit. You feel his warmth against your back, but you don't feel his touch quite yet, only the ghost of it. Your gut tightens with pity as you know he can’t take his helmet off. That has to be very uncomfortable.

The lights are dim enough that there is no shadow from your bodies on the wall. You can tell by the space he’s put between you, that he’s about to fall off.

“Are you scared of me, Mando? Can I call you Mando?”

“Sure and no.”

“Which one?” You ask mischievously, smirking to yourself while knowing full well what he meant.

He sighs in exasperation, so you let him be. For only a moment before you're back to being snarky. "Surely you've been this close to another human before, perhaps in a more compromising context."

"Yes and it's usually quieter." You think he might not realize what he just said.

You snort, "Must mean you're doing something wrong."

"That's not-! Just, get some sleep." He says tiredly, giving up on the banter you're pushing. You do as he asks, closing your eyes as you feel the heat of his body move closer to you.

You wake up to a rough whisper of your name and a shaking of your shoulder. Eyes open slowly, squinting against the light shining right at them, before something blocks it and eases your discomfort. The large hand on your shoulder doesn't yet move from its place, gently perched and waiting for you to wake up fully.

You look up to see Mando's helmet over you, seemingly way too close (not that you're complaining), as you can clearly hear him breathe through his modulator. "We're here and we need to talk before you go in."

You follow him to the hull without question, stopping just before the door that leads to it. You rub the sleep from your eyes before blinking up at the bounty hunter, trying to nonchalantly fix your messy hair.

And though he'd never tell you, he thought you looked adorable in that moment. Rosy cheeks, a faraway gaze, lips pursed to hold back a yawn as you brushed down your hair. He was certainly thankful for his helmet in that moment, considering the heat he felt crawling up his neck and settling on his cheeks.

"Plan?"

You clear your throat before speaking, "Right. So, it's easy." You raise a hand to his face when Mando sighs deeply. "Simple, really. I go in, tell them I have the bounty and ask for a little something as compensation along with the credits. See? Easy and simple!"

"Do you think they'll take it?" It doesn't sound as skeptical as you would've expected from him. It's sort of hopeful. Even Mando has to admit to himself that getting chased around and having to avoid and run from x-wings at every turn, got pretty exhausting.

"Let's try it before we start getting doubts." You tell him, determined. "Besides, nothing to lose if you stay hidden, right?"

The planet you landed on is small and green - perfect cover for a Resistance base. You walk along the dirt path leading to it and away from the Crest, coming up to a clearing where you can see the humongous metal doors of the base which seemed to have been dug into a small mountain.

"Stop! State your business." A voice says through a speaker once you get close enough.

"I've come to deliver a bounty!" You keep it simple, no use even attempting to be charming with these folks.

Not long after, the doors part to let someone through, who you presume is a general or something of the sort given their intimidating presence and the flock of guards with their weapons trained on you that follow them.

"We have your credits. Thank you for bringing him to us." You keep your face neutral even as it urges to tremble beneath the pressure of their gaze. You feel the man in question squirm against the arm that grips his bicep. Must really not be a fan.

"That is not all I want." The supposed general, no need to try and figure that out considering you don't want them to remember you more than necessary, raises a delicate brow. "I would like for you to clear someone's name."

"That is not what we agreed on."

"Yes, well, I didn't agree to it myself, so." You shrug, impressed that the general's face remains stone cold, especially considering how much they probably would like to dispose of you given you're dragging out this exchange for longer than what's really necessary.

"You are in no place to make demands." One soldier tells you, pulling out his blaster and pointing it at you, getting more of a reaction from the bounty than from yourself as he flinches.

"Oh, I am in the perfect place to be making demands." You tell him venomously, grip tightening on the man's arm.

"We have you surrounded."

"Just the way I like it." You respond with a wink just to hear the person's stuttering over the modulator on their helmet.

"Very well." The general calls out in order to gain their minions' attention, "Just tell me what name they might be under in our system."

"The Mandalorian. Mando for friends."

Epilogue

"Fuck! Shit, fuck! What was I thinking?!" You yell out in frustration, standing before what remains of your ship, the rest most likely taken by Jawas, who must be long gone by now. "Of course someone would take it apart, why not?! Oh, stars." You wail miserably, crouching into a ball in search of some comfort.

"Hey, it'll be alright. Don't panic." Mando tells you gently after pulling you to your feet and grabbing your shoulders tightly to ground you. "There's two ways we can do this: we go after those Jawas, get your pieces and fix the ship or," Mando hesitates for a moment, fingers drumming along your skin as he turns the words over and over in his tongue until he feels as if he'll get them right once he says them. "you can come with me until you get enough credits for a new one. 4,000 might not be enough yet, but it's a pretty solid start."

His rare optimism brings a small smile out of you and makes your anger settle down almost completely. You'll no doubt have an even deeper hatred for the little shits, but you don't feel as if you'll punch the next living thing you see.

"I guess catching a ride with you can't be so bad, huh, Mando?"

#din djarin #din dijarin fanfiction #din dijarin x reader #din djaren #the mandalorian #the mandolorian x reader #the mandolarian #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x y/n #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x oc #mando x reader #mando and grogu #mando #din

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yootaesowlwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Requested By: No one, but I’m dedicating it to @taeandpuppies

A/N: This is just a thing I wanted to write for Tae’s birthday.

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, explicit language, descriptive scenes, hand kink, slight sensual touching, fingering, clit stimulation, female receiving oral, slight teasing, multiple orgasms, nudism, Tae sucks on his fingers to taste reader, barely a handjob, unprotected sex (always use protection), reader running her fingers through his hair, reader holding onto his hair as they cum, cockwarming, aftercare.

Word Count: 5 939

Five years, but it could be longer, that was how long Tae and (Y/n) had been dating, and they had they been living together for almost three years now, and during all those years it had been a joy, nothing but happiness in their home, yes, there were moments that were unpleasant, but they always made up, the pleasant moments were more than the unpleasant ones, the place was always filled with laughter and joy, never a dull moment, especially on the days when Tae was given the day off, they would spend those days with each other, cuddling, talking about what bothered them, watch a movie, or become more intimate, and those days were rare.

Today was one of those rare days, Tae had gone to the studio, attending meetings and signing papers after papers before they were granted the afternoon off, and he was always grateful for it, not that he didn’t love his job, he did, but he loved spending time with (Y/n) a little more, and today he was able to spend more time with her, thanks to the afternoon they were given off, he closes the main door, making sure to lock it before removing his shoes.

“I’m home,” Tae calls out as he slips his jacket off, he hears footsteps approaching him and hangs his jacket on the coat hanger near the door, he turns to face the person approaching him.

“This early?” (Y/n) asks. “Not that I mind.” She gently smiles at him.

“We were granted the afternoon off,” Tae says, she wraps her arms around him, pressing herself against him, his arms move around her and pulls her closer into the embrace, his hands moving her lower back, her scent surrounds him, filling his lungs as he nuzzles his face in the crook of her neck.

“Hm, remind me to send a thank-you card to whoever was that generous.” (Y/n) softly says, he lifts his head from the crook of her neck and looks into her warm eyes, a soft smile on his lips, he never felt more at home when he was with her, leaning in, her eyes falls hut along with his, his lips brush against her soft ones, tasting the strawberry frosting she had tasted just women ago after spreading it over the cake, his soft warm lips moving with hers before they slowly pull back from the kiss, he leans his forehead against hers, eyes slowly opening to gaze into each other’s eyes.

“You make me feel at home,” Tae says. “Home was just a place and then you entered my life.”

“Hey, now you’re just becoming cheesy.” (Y/n) says as she steps back, breaking the loving embrace. “Not that I mind.” She could feel her cheeks heating up before turning away. “I made some cake, I didn’t know you’d be home this early, otherwise I would have made it earlier in the day.”

“No, I tasted the frosting on your lips, so I assumed you baked a cake,” Tae says as he follows her into the kitchen, he sees the strawberry flavoured cake, before his eyes fell to the dishes in the sink, soaking in warm water, how many bowls did she use? He wondered to himself.

“Uh, I’ll do those in a moment.” (Y/n) says, she turns around to look at him as she picks up the dirty spoon she had used to mix the frosting. “But first, can I get you anything? A drink? Something to eat?”

“No, no, maybe a cup of tea later, but not right now,” Tae says, she nods her head as she placed the spoon with the dirty dishes. “I can do the dishes.” She shakes her head as she turns her back to the dishes to look at him.

“No, no, I made the mess, I’ll clean it.” (Y/n) says, Tae walks closer to her.

‘But if we work together, It’ll be finished faster.” Tae says.

“And it isn’t fair that you do the dishes when you didn’t dirty them.” (Y/n) states.

“But I don’t mind helping,” Tae says. “The quicker we finish the dishes, the faster we can spend time together, watch a movie in the bedroom, cuddle under the covers.” He stops in front of her, looking into her eyes.

“You’re very convincing.” (Y/n) says. “And cuddling does sound nice.” He leans closer, his musk surrounds her, the warmth from his body reaches her.

“I’ll wash and you can dry off,” Tae says, his lips inches away from hers.

“Deal.” (Y/n) softly says, he pecks her lips before she moved out of the way, allowing him access to the kitchen sink, she picks up a drying towel while he reaches for some gloves, her eyes fall to his hands as he pulls the rubber gloves on, he reaches for the soap and the sponge, she blinks and lifts her gaze from his hands to his face. “So uh, how was it this morning?” She wanted to distract herself for a moment before her mind would begin to wonder, wonder about what his hands could be doing instead of the dishes.

“It was busy, we were ushered from one room to another,” Tae says, he looks at her and sweetly smiles at her. “We had to decide on some dates, sign some papers, and then we were granted the afternoon off.”

“Aren’t you tired then?” (Y/n) asks. “Or isn’t your hand cramped up? And now you’re doing the dishes as well.” He rinses one of the bowls he just washed and hands it to her.

“My hands are never tired when it comes to helping around,” Tae says. “Or to you.” She takes the bowel from his grasp and begins drying it. “How was your morning?”

“The same as any other morning.” (Y/n) says as she dries the bowl. “I managed to get a few things finished, and then decided to bake a cake.” She moves around the kitchen and puts the bowl away before walking back to the sink and picking up another bowl from the drying rack. “I just didn’t realize how much of a mess I made when I baked.” Tae soft chuckles and looks around the kitchen.

“It doesn’t look too bad,” Tae says, she walks around the kitchen and puts the bowl away.

“Oh, you should have seen it before you arrived home.” (Y/n) says and walks back to the sink, she picks up the spoon he had just placed in the drying rack. “Flour everywhere.” He shakes his head as he washes the final few items. “But I managed to wipe it clean just before you got here.” She dries the spoon and moves to the drawer she had got it from.

“I wish I was here to help,” Tae says, she licks her lips before softly smiling at him.

“To what?” (Y/n) asks. “Toss flour onto me? Make more of a mess?”

“No, of course not,” Tae says and coyly smiles at her.

“That smile tells another story, Tae.” (Y/n) says, he removes the rubber gloves from his hands and placed them near the sink to dry, he picks another drying towel and picks up one of the utensils he had washed.

“Are you saying I’m lying?” Tae asks.

“Of course not.” (Y/n) says. “I’m just saying that if you were here to help with the cake, the kitchen would be messier.” Tae dries the utensil and moves towards the drawer.

“That’s just a nicer way to say that you think I’m lying,” Tae says. “But it’s okay, I forgive you.” He puts the utensil away and picks up another item, (Y/n)’s eyes move down to watch his hands, her mind wandering for a moment, Tae puts the item away and hangs the drying towel on the hook he had retrieved it from, he turns to look at her and takes a step closer. “Hey, are you okay?” She blinks as she snaps out her daydream, she looks up at him and slowly nods her head.

“Yeah, yeah.” (Y/n) says. “Why are you asking?” He carefully takes the spoon she had been drying.

“Well, you’ve been drying this for almost five minutes now,” Tae says.

“Oh.” (Y/n) breathes out. “Oh, I uh, I was just thinking about something.” She nags the drying towel.

“Oh, want to share what it was?” Tae asks as he puts the spoon away.

“It wasn’t anything important.” (Y/n) says. “Uh, so you mentioned you wanted to cuddle and watch a movie.” She quickly changes the subject, although he would most likely ask her again later. “What do you say we go to our room and get nice and comfortable in bed to watch it?” Tae nods his head, pushing his question aside, for the time being.

“I like that idea,” Tae says. “It sounds more comfortable than the couch today.” He moves closer to the cake.

“Ah, ah, no, that’s for tonight.” (Y/n) says.

“Not even a tiny bite before we go to the bedroom?” Tae asks.

“Not even a tiny taste.” (Y/n) says, a pout form on his lips.

“Okay,” Tae says. “But I want an extra big slide.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” (Y/n) says and begins exiting the kitchen, he lifts his hand and grazes his finger over the frosting. “Tae!” He pulls his finger away and shoves it into his mouth, she smiles while shaking her head. “Come on.” He quickly leaves the kitchen, following her to the bedroom, the large bed had been decorated with a bunch of plush pillows and a thick cover to keep them warm for the upcoming cold nights, she removes her pants while Tae climbs under the covers, covering his legs with it, she quickly climbs in next to him after tossing her pants in the laundry basket, Tae sat up against the plush pillows pressed against the headboard, (Y/n) rests her head on his shoulder as he picks up the remote controller.

“Is there anything specific you want to watch?” Tae asks.

“No, I don’t mind what you pick for us.” (Y/n) says, he switches the television on and begins searching through a list of films, her eyes fall on his hand holding the remote controller, his hands had to have been sculpted or a gift from the Greek gods themselves, he takes hold of her hand with his free hand and brings her hand to his lips, her eyes follow the movement, he softly presses a soft kiss on the back of her hand.

“I hope you don’t mind this film,” Tae says, her eyes move to the screen, barely paying attention to the title of the film.

“No, no, I don’t mind.” (Y/n) says, he placed the remote controller down and lowered their hands onto the bed, laying it down above the covers near his thigh, their fingers interlace as the movie intro begins playing, she slowly rubs small circles on the back of his hand using her thumb and before she knew it, her other hand had unconsciously moved towards their clasped hands and had started playing with his fingers, admiring them as she did.

“What are you doing?” Tae asks, his voice soft as he spoke, making her freeze when she heard his voice, she slowly looks up at him.

“Nothing, nothing.” (Y/n) says before looking back down at his hand.

“It’s not nothing, come on, you can tell me,” Tae says. “I don’t want you to be ashamed of anything around me.” She licks her lips as she thinks about it. “You know that I won’t judge you.” She looks up at him, finding his dark brown eyes.

“It’s your hands.” (Y/n) quietly says.

“What about my hands?” Tae asks.

“They look so… good.” (Y/n) says. “Beautiful, almost as if they had been sculpted.” He gently nods his head as he listens. “And sometimes when you’re doing something with them… fuck.” She lightly pressed her thighs together, Tae quickly picked it up and started piecing everything together.

“Then maybe I should use them on you,” Tae says, his tone husky as he spoke. “Show you what they are capable of doing.” He releases her hand and pushes it underneath the covers, his hand presses against her exposed thigh. “Fuck, do you know how glad I am that you decided to remove your pants before getting in?” He could feel her warm skin underneath his touch, his fingers lightly tap her upper thigh, she lifts her head away from his shoulder and leans back against the pillows, he turns his head to watch her reaction, the movie quickly being forgotten, he slowly slides his hand up and down her thigh, stopping to softly knead the skin before sliding his hand up and down again, his fingers dipping between her inner thighs, stopping to knead the skin, her eyes slowly fall close as she felt his hand working on her skin, his fingers gently pressing into the skin, his hand slides away from her inner thigh. “How many times have you been thinking about my hands today?” She opens her eyes while turning her head to look at him, he stared at her, his eyes clouded with lust.

“I… I don’t know.” (Y/n) softly says. “I.. I’m not s…sure.” She stutters out, he licks his lips as his hands slide closer to her heat.

“This morning?” Tae asks. “Before I left?” She nods her head, his fingers were so close to her heat, so close to feeling how wet she had got from just thinking about what his hands could do to her. “When I came back?” She once again nods her head. “When?” She takes in a deep breath, her eyes fighting to fall close.

“When we hugged.” (Y/n) says. “Your hands moved to my…” She lets out a delighted sigh as she feels his hand kneading her thigh. “Lower back.”

“Any other times?” Tae asks.

“Dishes.” (Y/n) answers, he nods his head. “When you were washing them.” His hand slides away from her clothed soaking pussy, a whine escaping her lips. “And when you were drying!”

“And?” Tae asks, her eyes fall shut. “No, no, look at me when I’m asking you questions.” She takes her bottom lip between her teeth and opens her eyes to look at him. “And when else?” His hand slowly moves back between her thighs.

“Now, just now.” (Y/n) says. “When you were choosing a movie.”

“Spread your legs for me, angel,” Tae says in a deep voice, almost instinctively her legs widen, giving him more access. “Tell me…” His hand inches closer to her heat. “Did you imagine my hands, my fingers finger touching you…” Two of his fingers brush against her panties, feeling a wet patch forming on them. “Like this?” She turns her head away from him. “No, no.” He reaches over with his other hand, gently placing two fingers against her jawline and turns her head back to look at him. “Keep looking at me.”

“Mhm.” (Y/n) whimpers, his fingers stroking over her panties, feeling the warmth seeping through.

“Now answer me, angel,” Tae says, his lust covered eyes staring into her eyes.

“… Yes.” (Y/n) breathes out. “Yes.” He could feel his cock twitch as blood rush down to his length, his fingers move to the side of her panties and pulls them to the side, he would get rid of it right now, but he wanted to tease her a little more, he slips a finger between her folds, his finger becoming coated with her wetness.

“Oh, so wet, all for me?” Tae asks. “All for my hands?” He releases her jaw.

“Mhm.” (Y/n) softly moans, feeling his finger stroke up and down her folds, he could feel her trying to squeeze her legs shut, a smirk begins to tug at his lips.

“Oh, you’re being a naughty angel,” Tae says, he slips a second finger between her folds, continuing to stroke her folds, his fingers come together above her clit, causing her to suck in a deep breath. “Oh… you definitely must have imagined my fingers touching you here.” His fingers slide over her clit, her lips part at the pleasurable sensation running through her. “Keep looking at me, angel, don’t look away.” His fingers stroked over her clit, back and forth, from one side to the other side, her breathing deepened. “Bet I could make you cum by just playing with your clit.” She could feel a twist in her stomach, his words having a deep effect on her. “Should we try?”

“Oh.” (Y/n) gasps out.

“Is that a yes?” Tae asks, her eyes wanted to shut, she wanted to tilt her head back and lay it against the headboard. “I’m waiting, angel.”

“Y.. yes.” (Y/n) gasps out, his fingers circling her clit, she could feel a tension building, her body became warmer, and she could feel the covers over her legs causing sweat to form on her legs.

“I want to hear you,” Tae says. “Scream my name, moan my name as loudly as you can when you come for me.” His fingers split and move around her clit in a scissoring movement, she takes in a deep breath.

“Please, please.” (Y/n) begs.

“Please, what?” Tae asks.

“Please let me close my eyes.” (Y/n) whispers. “I can’t… I don’t…”

“Only when you come for me, my angel,” Tae says. “The second you reach your high, you can shut those beautiful eyes.”

“TAE!” (Y/n) screams as he took her clit between his fingers, the pleasure running through her veins was indescribable. “Fu— Tae, Tae.” He rolls the sensitive nub between his fingers.

“That’s it, say my name,” Tae says, her orgasm was building and building fast as he rolled her clit between his fingers.

“Tae.. Oh, oh, Tae!” (Y/n) chants, her toes curl as heat spreads over her body, her mind clouded with bliss, her hand reaches up for one of the pillows, gripping it while her other hand near his thigh grips the covers between her fingers. “Tae.. I… close.”

“Come for me, (Y/n),” Tae says, her eyes fall close, it appeared like fireworks going off behind her eyelids as pleasure washes over her, the tension that had been building explodes, her legs shake with pleasure.

“TAE!” (Y/n) screams, he releases her clit and gently strokes her folds, easing her through the high, her face displayed pure bliss and it looked absolutely breathtaking to Tae, he loved seeing her face during her high, the way her eyes were shut, enjoy the pleasure, the way her soft lips would part and every muscle in her face was relaxed, it was a sight to behold, her eyes slowly open as she takes in a deep breath.

“You always look so beautiful,” Tae says as he pulls his hand away from her, he tosses the covers off them and moves onto his knees next to her, his hand moves to her panties and curls his fingers around the elastic of them. “Get rid of the pillows that make you feel uncomfortable.” She manages to lift her ass from the mattress, long enough for him to pull her panties down, she sits back down, feeling his knuckles brush along her legs as he removes them, he tosses them across the room, she begins moving lower on the bed and pushes some pillows off the bed, before she could lay down he quickly stopped her, his fingers curling around the hem of her shit. “You’re going to get very hot wearing this.” He lifts it upwards, purposely brushing his knuckles over her warm skin, she lifts her arms, allowing him to remove it, he once again tosses it across the room, before reaching behind her and unclasping her bra, he slides the straps down her arms and tosses it aside as well.

“So much better, now you can lay down, angel,” Tae says, she lays down on the bed, quickly finding a comfortable position, he leans over and grabs one of the remaining pillows on the bed. “Lift.” She lifts her hips, and he places the pillow underneath her, lifting her hips for better access to her pussy, he moves between her legs, sitting far enough away in case he wanted a taste, his eyes caught sight of her glistening pussy, his cock had become hard and had formed a tent in the sweatpants he was wearing, he could feel it twitch once he caught sight of her wet pussy. “Fuck.” His hand ghostly slides over her thigh, his fingers barely touching her skin as he moves his hand to her pussy. “So wet for me, all because of my hands, all for me.” His hand cups her pussy, his fingers slipping between her folds, gently stroking them as his fingers move towards her entrance. “Can you come for me again, angel?” Two fingers were at her opening, the tips dipping in and out, almost in a teasing way, she could feel her muscles tightening, just feeling his fingers threatening to slip in.

“Yes, yes.” (Y/n) breathes out, he placed his other hand on the outside of her thigh, his fingers softly rubbing the skin, he pulls his hand away from her wetness. “No, Tae.” She whimpers out, lifting her head and watches as he brought his hand to his face, his lips wrap around his fingers, his eyes meeting hers as he slowly pulls them from his mouth. “Tae…”

“Mhm.” Tae hums as he removes his fingers from his mouth. “You taste delicious, my angel.” His hand moves back between her legs, his fingers slipping between her folds, moving to her entrance. “Bend your legs for me.” She bends her legs, pressing her feet into the mattress, his hand on her thigh moves to her inner thigh before his arm slides underneath and his hand goes to her hip, he leans over, moving his face closer to her pussy, she lowers her head and squeezes her eyes shut as she felt his breath against her soaking pussy, his two fingers slip into her opening, slightly twisting his hand as he does.

“Oh.” (Y/n) breathes out as her lips part, the feeling of his fingers moving deeper into her, causing her pleasure, he twists and turns his fingers inside her. “Ph, mhm.” He turns his head, pressing his lips against her inner thigh. “Tae.” His lips felt soft against her warm skin, his tongue slide over her skin as he slowly moves his face closer to her pussy, his fingers curl inside her, ghostly burning against the most sensitive spot inside her. “TAE, FUCK!” She could feel the familiar tension building again.

“Oh, you sound so beautiful, angel,” Tae says, her eyes widen as she was reminded how close his face was to her pussy, he extends his fingers inside her and slowly pulls them out, stopping just before the tips could slip out before pushing them back in while adding a third finger, his tongue slips between her folds, licking a stride between her folds.

“TAE!” (Y/n) moans loudly, her body trembled with pleasure, she gripped the bedsheets in pleasure, her eyes shut once again, her heart pounded in her ears, the tip of his tongue moves around her clit, she could feel the nub throbbing for attention, throbbing in pleasure, his fingers continue to slide in and out of her entrance, twisting and turning them. “TAE!” His lips wrap around her clit, gently sucking on it.

“Mhm-hm.” Tae hums against her clit, the vibrations pushing her over the edge, warmth runs up her legs, pleasure washes over her as her toes curl in pleasure, her entire body shook with pleasure.

“TAE!” (Y/n) couldn’t help but scream his name, his hand on her hip gently kneads the skin, his fingers inside her curling, feeling her walls clenching around them as she releases, her mind clouded with lust, the euphoric feeling taking over completely, he extends his fingers and slowly twists and turns them, easing her through her second high, his lips release her clit and moves his head away from her soaking pussy, he kisses her inner thighs while slipping his fingers from her opening, his lips pepper soft kisses on her inner thigh before lifting his head and sitting upright on his knees, he brings his hand back to his lips and once again takes them in his mouth, her eyes open, letting out a satisfied sigh.

“Mhm, hmh.” Tae hums as he pulls his fingers from his lips with a loud pop. “Fuck, you’re always so tasty angel.” She straightens her legs as her toes uncurl, she releases the sheets and lifts her head to look at him, he carefully moves to the edge of the bed and climbs off. “But I want to be inside you now, angel, I want to feel you wrapped around me.” Her walls clench around nothing at his words. “I want to feel you clench around me.” He removes his shirt, dropping it to the ground, she lifts her hips and grips the pillow, pulling it out from underneath her and tosses it off the bed, she sits upright and moves to the edge of the bed, just as he pulled his sweatpants down along with his underwear, his hard cock slaps against his toned stomach, making her swallow and lick her lips.

“Do you want me to…” (Y/n) begins, she looks up at him, innocent wide eyes staring up at him, his eyes roll to the back of his head at the sight.

“Fuck.” Tae whispers feeling his cock twitch.

“Do you want me to help you?” (Y/n) asks. “Suck you?”

“No, no, no, not right now.” Tae quickly says as he looks at her. “Right now I just want to be inside you.” Her eyes fall back to his hard cock, pre-cum leaking from the head, one of her hands wrap around the base of his cock, her other hand wrapping around the head of his cock, her fingers tapping against the slit before circling her finger around the head of his cock, spreading the clear liquid over the head of his cock, his lips part as he tilts his head back in pleasure. “Oh, oh, fuck.” Her hand slowly slides down his length, twisting and turning her hand, feeling the veins on his cock underneath her touch, her hand moves back to the head, spreading the clear liquid over his cock.

“I don’t think you need much help getting hard.” (Y/n) says as she looks back up at him, her hand continues to slowly pump his length. “You’re already so hard.” She releases his cock and moves back to the middle of the bed, Tae climbs on the bed as she lays down, her legs bending as he moves between them, he wraps his hand around his cock and pushes it between her folds, moving himself between her heat, collecting her wetness on his cock. “Oh.” Her fingers graze over the bedsheets, feeling the head of his cock brush over her sensitive clit. “Stop te… teasing me, Tae.” He slides the head of his cock to her opening and slips the head of his cock inside her, her lips part and her eyes fall shut at the feeling of his thick hard cock slipping into her opening, stretching her walls and filling her. “Oh, my— fuck, Tae.”

“Fuck.” Tae curses, feeling his cock being enveloped by her arm wet walls, his jaw clenches at the sensation, he releases his cock, he slowly slips deeper into her, filling her more, he leans over and placed his hands on the bed, her feet moves closer to his legs, brushing against them, she lifts her arms from the bed and placed one hand on his shudder while the other hand runs through his hair before resting at the nape of his neck, her fingers pressing into the skin on his shoulder. “Fuck, you feel so good, angel.” He lifts his hips, his cock sliding out, stopping before the head slipped out, he rolls his hips, thrusting back into her, the sound of their breathy moans and skin hitting against skin filled the room along with the sound of her wetness drowned out the noise coming from the television playing in the background, his hips rolling into her, burying himself deep inside her before pulling out and snapping his hips back.

“Tae!” (Y/n) moans.” TAE!” The feeling of his hard cock brushing against her most sensitive spot causer her walls to clench around him, her body tingled with pleasure, the tension in her lower abdomen building and building, her hand on the nape of his hand moves back into his hair, entangling her fingers with them, the hand on his shoulder digs into his skin, her nails avoiding his skin, not wanting to cause him any harm.

“Fuck, if you keep clenching around me, I won’t last long.” Tae groans out, sweat coated both their skin as the air surrounding them felt hot.

“Tae, you just… oh, oh… so good.” (Y/n) moans out, he reaches between them and pressed his finger against her clit, stoking the sensitive nub, her back arched off the bed as his cock brushes over the most sensitive spot inside her. “TAE!” Her walls clamp down around him, warmth speed through her body as pleasure washes over her, her mind becomes clouded with bliss, her feet brush against his calves, her toes curling against his skin, her hand releases his shoulder and grabs for the sheets, twisting them between her fingers, her other hand holds onto his hair as her lips parts, her eyes squeeze shut as the tension exploded, and she releases around his cock, her body quivering with pleasure as her muscles contracts, his cock twitched inside her, feeling her release surrounding his cock.

“Oh, oh, angel, oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Tae breathes out, the feeling of her warm wet walls clenching down on him clouded his mind, and he almost felt light-headed from the pleasure, a sudden burst of energy runs through his cock as he releases inside her, filling her with his cum. “Oh, fuck.” He pulls his hand away from her clit and pressed it into the bed as he felt his energy drain, his thrusts came to a halt with him buried deep inside her, he lowers himself, resting his face in the crook of her neck, taking in a few deep breaths before reaching for her leg, he pulls her leg closer to him and rolls home over, letting her lay on top of him with him still buried deep inside her, he wraps his arms around her, moving his hand to the tips of her hair and gently begins playing with her hair, his other hand gently rubs up and down her back, the surrounding air slowly cooling down as they lay in silence, catching their breath while staring into each other’s eyes as he soothingly rubs her back and plays with her hair, it felt like the comforting silence only lasted a few minutes, but over seventeen minutes had already passed. “You’re so beautiful.” He brings his hand o her face and gently pushes some of her hair away. “I am such a lucky man.”

“I am the lucky one.” (Y/n) says as she begins getting up from him, she could feel his cock slipping out from her.

“Wait, let me go run us a bath,” Tae says, she climbs onto the bed, sitting upright.

“I can go to the bathroom.” (Y/n) says.

“And what type of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t clean you?” Tae asks as he stood from the bed, he makes his way to the bathroom.

“Not a bad one if that is what you’re getting at.” (Y/n) says.

“Sh, of course, I’d be a bad one if I didn’t clean up after myself,” Tae says as he emerges from the bathroom, she could hear the tub filling with water, he approaches the bed, and she moves to the edge of it, he helps her stand, her legs feeling wobbly after the last orgasm, she hadn’t realized how much her body was shaking until he helped her stand, he helps her to the bathroom and helps her into the tub and helps her sit down in the foamy bathwater, he climbs in with her and settles behind her, near the water still filling the tub. “Are you okay?” She looks over her shoulder at him.

“Yeah, yeah.” (Y/n) says. “I’m okay, that was nice.” He nods his head. “I should’ve told you sooner.” She looks ahead of her, feeling a bit drowsy, he closes the water and takes hold of her washcloth, he picks up her soap and opens the cap, squeezing some of the fruity scented soap into the cloth.

“Don’t fall asleep, it’s not even 6 yet.” Tae jokingly says.

“I can’t help it.” (Y/n) says, he could hear the lazy smile in her tone.

“I’ll try to be quick then,” Tae says and begins washing her shoulders, moving over her neck and down her back.

“Mhm, okay.” (Y/n) tiredly says, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer against him before washing her chest.

“I didn’t even give any attention to them today,” Tae says while washing her breasts, she leans her head back against his shoulder.

“Next time.” (Y/n) says, he washes down her stomach before reaching between her legs. “No to round 2, not right now.” Tae softly giggles as he carefully washes her.

“I’ll hold off on round 2 for now,” Tae says, after cleaning her and cleaning himself he helps her out the bath and wraps a fuzzy towel around her, drying her before helping her back to the bedroom, he sits her down on the cushiony couch in the room and gets her some loose pyjamas and helps her get dressed in them, before dressing himself.

“We should change the sheets now.” (Y/n) states as she glanced at the bed.

“I can change them,” Tae says, (Y/n) stood from the couch, the shakiness in her legs feeling better after the warm bath, but her body felt drained, and she just wanted to sleep.

“Why don’t you go make us some tea?” (Y/n) suggests.

“I can’t believe you don’t trust me with the sheets,” Tae says, a playful smile o his lips.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you.” (Y/n) says. “I just don’t want to take forever to change them.” Tae moves closer to her and wraps one arm around her lower back, pulling her closer to him.

“Then I’ll be right back with the tea,” Tae says and softly kisses her before unwrapping his arm and leaving the room to go and make some tea, she quickly pulled the sheets from the bed, tossing them on the pile where her clothes had landed, she retrieves some fresh sheets and begins putting it over the bed, by the time Tae had returned with the tea she was throwing the cover back onto the bed. “That was fast.”

“When you’re tired, you work fast.” (Y/n) says and climbs into the bed, Tae hands her a cup of tea and placed his cup on the nightstand, he climbs underneath the covers, she takes a sip from her tea before putting the cup down on the nightstand, she moves closer to him and lays her head down on his chest while laying an arm over his torso and getting comfortable, Tae begins playing with a strand of her hair and begins looking for another film to watch, seeing as the previous one had finished an hour earlier.

#smut #smuts #imagine #imagines #smut imagine #smut imagines #taehyung imagines #taehyung smut #taehyung imagine #Taehyung one shot #Taehyung oneshot #Taehyung smuts #Taehyung oneshots #taehyung one shots #kim taehyung imagines #kim taehyung imagine

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mourntheantagonist · 4 years ago

Text

“You’ve never been bowling?”

Steve is looking at Billy like he just said the worst thing in the whole world.

“No?”

Billy was standing in Steve’s room inspecting the bowling pin that sat on his desk, the one that Steve had stolen one night when he and Tommy had broken into the alley after homecoming. Steve remembers crawling down the slick lane and reaching for the center pin because he didn’t intend to end up like Tommy who had taken just two steps passed the line before he wound up flat on his back with his head hitting hard enough against the wood floor that he would have a headache for the next couple of days.

Teenagers in Hawkins had their pick of only four places in town to hang out unless they were willing to take the hour long drive into the city for some real entertainment. Those four options included the junkyard, the quarry, The Hawk, and of course, the bowling alley. More often than not it would be far too cold for the quarry or junkyard, and The Hawk was only ever good for taking girls to sit in the secluded back row while they didn’t bother to even pay attention to the movie on screen. So Steve, Tommy, and Carol all found themselves at the lanes fairly often.

It was one of the few little things he had where he felt like he was genuinely having a good time with friends. When people came over to his house he could never escape the thought that they were only there for the free booze and his pool and his parents who didn’t give a fuck and not for Steve himself. Drinking out of a flask Carol snuck from her mom while they sent multiple balls down the lane at a time giving the staff a never ending headache when they fucked up the ball return was an entirely different atmosphere.

So Steve had a nice relationship with bowling. It was such a stupid little activity he did drunk or high with friends, but those were some of the best times of his life.

And to find out that Billy had never been bowling before? He was beyond offended.

“How have you never been bowling before?”

Billy just shrugged his shoulders like Steve was being entirely ridiculous with his shock. “I don’t know, maybe cause San Diego has more than five things to do? Why would I waste my time throwing a ball into a gutter?”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” Steve says, taking the pin from Billy’s hand because he simply lacks the proper respect to wield it. “We’re going bowling, right now.”

Before Billy could even begin to protest, Steve was dragging Billy down the stairs and out through the front door, and Billy was just too curious and too preoccupied enjoying Steve’s assertiveness over something as trivial as a heavy ball and ten pins.

Since the alley was only four blocks away from Steve’s house, they were in and out of the car in no time at all. It was late at night on a Wednesday so the alley was mostly empty save for the actual bowlers who weren’t just there to wreak havoc.

Just as you walk through the glass double doors, directly to the left was the most pathetic arcade you could ever see. It was really bold to even call it that with the flickering neon sign that hung above the entryway. All they had was a mostly empty claw machine, pinball, and the only actual arcade game worth playing, Pac-Man, had a piece of white printer paper taped to the screen with ‘out of order’ written in black sharpie. Billy was already having trouble reasoning why Steve would choose this run-down place with the loudest carpet flooring he’d ever seen as his main hangout space.

While Steve paid for their shoe rentals and their game, Billy wandered around aimlessly, staring at the rainbow of neon that decorated the place that seemingly had no rhyme or reason for its pattern. Most of the other bowlers were all together at the far right of the building, so of course Steve reserved the far left for the two of them. Steve hands Billy his pair of size elevens and together they walk over to their own personal lane, secluded from everyone else in a way that almost felt entirely private.

Steve has had a fucking attitude since the moment Billy mentioned how he’d never been bowling before. Even with the close proximity of the alley to his house, Steve insisted on driving ten over the speed limit, something he constantly was on Billy’s ass about whenever Billy drove the two of them in the Camaro. He just stared forward mumbling “I know the chief of police” whenever Billy opened his mouth to say anything about it. But, with all of the anger in that little body of his, there was also enough excitement clear in the way he walked from point a to point b that calmed Billy’s lingering thought that Steve might just take the two bowling balls he had in his hands and smash his head in if he even dared to say a word about all of his huffing.

So Billy kept his distance and let Steve set it all up for the two of them, setting the balls into the return and entering their names into the system. It was then, while Steve was sitting in front of the little monitor punching away at the keypad that Billy finally saw Steve’s look of anger change to a smile... but not a happy smile. A fucking evil smile. Steve looked up at Billy with the most heinous eyes before darting his eyes over to the screen above the lane before he broke out into a fit of laughter. Billy looks up to the screen and sure enough, printed in bold digital lettering read two names.

1. Steve

2. SugarTits

“Real mature.” Billy said, barely having his voice heard over Steve’s own laughter, “You finally out of your pissy mood?”

“Just put on the shoes sugar tits.”

The two of them slipped on those absolutely ridiculous looking bowling shoes and what was originally all fun and games to Billy had quickly turned on its head.

Steve was up first. And yeah, Steve did spend a lot of his time at the alley just goofing off, but occasionally he would actually try to knock down some pins.

And he was fucking good at it.

Billy watched as the ball traveled fast down the lane with the perfect spin, knocking over all ten pins right on impact. The ‘X’ appeared on the screen and Steve turned around with the most smug look on his face that Billy had ever seen.

“And that’s called a strike.”

Billy just scoffed. Sure, Billy hasn’t ever held a bowling ball in his life, but he schooled people at skeeball and isn’t bowling just like skeeball but... bigger? Additionally, Billy is anything if not competitive.

Steve is stifling his giggles while Billy stands there trying to just figure out how to hold the ball, eventually figuring it out and setting himself straight in front of the lane, mailing one swing of the arm only for the ball to refuse to come unreleased from his fingers. He’s lucky he didn’t break any. Steve can’t help but laugh as he watches the display from the comfort of his seat and his strike on the scoreboard.

“You need help over there baby?” Steve asks.

“Fuck off I’m fine”

Steve puts his hands up and backs off and continues to enjoy the free entertainment that Billy is giving him.

On his second attempt, Billy actually manages to throw the ball... directly into the gutter.

“I can ask them to put the bumpers up for you babe.”

Billy just turns around and gives Steve a pinching gesture signifying he is “this close” to breaking his fucking neck.

Instead of letting Billy embarrass himself once more, and after the novelty had kind of worn off, Steve gets up to where Billy is standing waiting for the machine to cough the blue eleven pounder back up.

“Let me show you how to do it.” Steve says, picking up the ball as soon as it comes in and wrapping his arms around Billy’s waist. He shows Billy how to position his fingers and lines him up about eight feet back. “Okay, so you’re going to want to aim just to the side of the center pin, and you’re gonna want to throw it so it goes fast.”

It’s good, solid advice, but it went directly in one ear and out the other with the way Steve is touching him. Arms tenderly wrapped around his waist, hands gently wrapped around his wrists to guide his hands all while in a public place, and not a single person bats an eye. It’s just a guy teaching another guy how to bowl properly. There’s nobody close enough to see how Steve plants a kiss to his neck or grabs at his ass and it’s just so thrilling.

Steve guides him through the throw, and it’s definitely far from perfect especially considering Steve isn’t left handed like Billy is, but it actually knocks down some pins instead of finding a home in the gutter. The echo of the pins toppling over is fucking music to his ears and Steve’s arms are still wrapped around him, practically hugging him at this point and Billy just leans into it. Loving the feeling of being public about their relationship without being public about it.

They stand there for as long as they can without it seeming suspicious and Steve goes to take his second turn. Billy watched again from the same seat Steve was sitting in and watched Steve bowl a double.

Except he doesn’t actually watch the strike happen, too focused on staring at Steve’s ass through his jeans as he bends over. The way they tighten makes his own jeans tighten for an entirely different reason.

“Your turn.” Steve says.

But Billy has another idea, walking up to Steve and taking him by the wrist, moving his hand so it’s palming his dick.

“I think I’ve had enough bowling for the day.”

And usually Steve would never walk out on a streak like that, but this trip was all about the fun that could be had at the Hawkins bowling alley.

And fucking in the parking lot was certainly fun.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #mandi writes tresh #fanfic #this was supposed to be short but at this point that’s just me lying to myself #also thanks magniloquent-raven for ‘sugartits’ you’re a real one 😭

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rose7420 · 4 years ago

Text

Best of Friends

Summary: Loki becomes curious about the whereabouts of a certain tiny Avenger reader. Lots of fluff and some angst

I know I have requests to do but I had this idea and had to make it come to life, Enjoy my friends!

Loki walked into the kitchen of the Avengers Tower. The smooth white counter shone with impeccable cleanliness. He had been here for about two and a half weeks now and had barely spoken to anyone. He was very lonely but took no offense to the shunning of the superheroes. During his attack in 2012, he knew he had caused a lot of pain and loss. He had sat in his jail cell on Asgard contemplating his actions, regretting many of them. Finally, after two miserable years that held the loss of his mother, Odin had thought it a brilliant idea to come back to the very planet he had nearly destroyed and ask that he live with the very people he had fought violently against.

He reached the cabinet that held snacks of various sorts, ones he usually stuck his nose up to, and opened it to find disappointment once again. All junk. Releasing a deep aggravated breath he went to the refrigerator. Cold air grazed his face as he opened the door and found nothing there either. He turned to the counter and searched for the basket of fruit that usually was placed there. Holding red apples, bananas, and oranges the colors made an ugly mix. He reached for an apple and shined it on his shirt. Taking a bite out of it then swallowing, he relished the feeling of having food in his stomach. Those awful times he spent in the cell, the guards would often forget to give him his meals, he winces at the awful memory of a truly empty stomach.

His attention is drawn down to a small object near the bowl. He plucks it up and inspects it to realize it is a minuscule black boot. His inspection is halted from the sound of footsteps belonging to the Black Widow who enters the kitchen, most likely for another cup of coffee. She nods her head in greeting and continues her process of making the warm drink. Although distant to him, Natasha holds no menace in her gaze when she looks upon him almost as if she understood the predicament he was in while terrorizing New York. She takes a sip of her freshly brewed coffee and turns around to look at him when she notices the tiny object pinched in his fingertips.

“That’s Y/N’s.” She says motioning with her head towards the tiny boot as if finding a tiny shoe is a normal occurrence.

Loki is astonished that someone could even wear this boot, it wouldn't be able to even slide onto his pinky finger.

“Who is this Y/N?” He asks curiously.

“She’s like us, goes on missions, fights the bad guys but just in a more secretive way. Maybe she’ll come out for you to see her one day, doesn't like the attention from us big guys much often.” Natasha says taking another sip.

“What do you mean by “big guys” agent?”He asks although he thinks he knows the answer already.

“You’ll find out soon enough. Just leave the boot on the counter she’ll come back for it. Don’t bother keeping watch for her to come to get it, she’ll find a way to get past your sights.” She says walking out the door holding her cup. Loki is astonished to know that there is a tiny person living here with him, and he hadn’t even known. Not to mention that she goes on missions. He aches to find out more about this tiny being, but he will heed Natasha’s advice and not go searching for her. Something tells him that this little person is skilled enough to evade even the Trickster’s awareness.

True to Natasha’s word: The little boot was gone by the next morning

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two days later, Loki sits at a table in the grand library of Tony Stark’s. Books cover the walls and reach up to the tall ceiling. Before Loki had started occupying this space he had figured no one had used this library in years from the heavy coat of dust that had lied on every inch of the room. What a shame to waste such knowledge. Books were splayed out in front of Loki of all he could find on “tiny people”. He had read over the term "borrower" and "fairy" many times already. Perhaps this tiny being had been a borrower and gotten caught. His curiosity was practically burning holes in him. A faint huff and oomph draw his attention, his gaze leaving the printed paper. His emerald eyes go wide when a positively tiny person drags themselves upon the surface of the wooden table. They appear to stand at only a grand two and a half inches tall carrying a piece of paper fit to their size along with a pen.

“Whatcha starin’ at big boy?” The tiny girl asks Loki fearlessly.

Loki snaps his jaw up to close his wide-open mouth. He, for the first time in a while, is at a loss for words.

“You’re a talkative one, eh?” Heavens be, this little being is full of sass.

“My apologies, my name is Loki. I presume you to be Y/N?” Loki finally says.

“You would be correct Loki. So you like to read. Huh?” Y/N walks up to the books splayed open and smiles widely at the title, “All You Need to Know About Borrowers”

“Little people, yeah? Well, I hate to break it to ya, but I ain’t no borrower or fairy. Wasn’t born like this if that helps any at all.” Loki blushes when she reads the title but listens intently to what she’s saying. She wasn’t born like this, as she shrunk? He wisely chooses not to ask her that question.

“May I ask why you are here?” Loki says, inquisitive to how could she attempt to read these books that are five times her size.

Y/N holds up the little slip of paper she carries and shows it to him.

“Stark takes the books I want and shrinks them down to my size so they’re a bit more manageable. Ain’t much to do for a gal like me other than to read and eat.” She says with a hint of humor in her voice. She doesn’t seem affected by her situation; embracing it rather than hating it. An idea pops into Loki’s head.

“Perhaps I could shrink it for you? Less hassle than having to wait for Stark.” Loki offers.

“That's right you’re that wizard dude, gotta lot of magic tricks huh?”

Loki laughs and he watches her eyes lit up with excitement as she hands the paper to him after scribbling another title onto it.

“Are you sure you can read my writing? It’s awfully small for your eyes.” And indeed the print is. The paper slip barely covers the pad of his fingertip.

“No worries about that,” Loki reassures her. He grows the paper to his size and goes to retrieve the books written down. He sets them down lightly on the table, watching as Y/N stumbles from the heavy load of them all. He apologizes but she waves him off.

“Are these the right ones?” He asks to make sure.

She strides towards the novels and looks them over from the spines that show, and nods with affirmation. He shrinks them to her size, watching as she bends down to gather them in her arms. They cause significant distress in her tiny arms so he offers his assistance.

He watches her pause with concern. After a few moments, she accepts and places the now-tiny books into the palm of his hand, watching as they slide towards the natural dip his palm creates.

“Would you like me to carry you?” He asks imagining the trip to be longer for her than it is for himself.

“O-oh n-no! I’ll be fine, if you don’t mind you could just follow me?” Her voice is high-pitched with obvious anxiety. He agrees and assures her there is no problem, watching her movements with fascination when she scales down the table leg.

The trip to her room is long, one step of his equalling ten of hers. Not to mention his trepidation of stepping too close, and accidentally hurting her. He also notices how every footstep of his causes her to stumble minutely. After about twenty minutes they arrive at her door. Which is normal-sized and puzzles him until he notices the tiny door situated in the middle. She steps in through her door then calls out to him that he can come in. He does so opening the normal-sized door and steps into her room. He searches for her form, whipping his head around at the non-furnished room until he comes across a dollhouse that sits on the floor. She walks across the floor and motions for him to come nearer.

“Could you uh, put the house on the desk? So it’s easier for you to see.”

He nods and sets the books he has in his hands down on the table. Standing what feels like a hundred feet over a dollhouse no bigger than a medium-sized box he truly feels like a giant. He picks the house up and sets it up on the desk. Ready to offer a hand for Y/N on the floor, he is surprised to not see her there anymore. Instead, he hears a voice call his name from the desk.

“Thank ya for helping me out, I really appreciate the books!” She says.

Noticing the awe on his face from the miniaturized objects she explains: “Stark shrinks everything for me, that’s how I get by. Got everything I need in here so I never gotta come out unless I need more groceries.”

Loki assumed that a life like that could get very lonely, but he said nothing as he had before. He only kneeled to be level with her carrying on a conversation that actually held his interest.

Soon after that day Y/N and Loki started hanging around each other much more often. Finding themselves in the library together, watching a movie of the book they had both read, or simply eating together. Her small stature proved to be no hindrance in their friendship, other than Y/N purposely avoiding his hands. One night as they sat down in Loki’s room (since Loki couldn't fit in Y/N’s) ready to watch a movie on the television that Y/N had practically begged Loki to put in his quarters. She sat on the arm of the deep green couch he had placed in his room, looking a tad uncomfy. She munched on a shrunken-down bag of Goldfish. Earlier, while in the kitchen she had dragged the towering bag towards him with pleading eyes. She perched on the cushion every time they watched films together but this time she looked lonesome there all by herself. With gentleness in his voice, he asked Y/N casually if she would like to sit upon his shoulder.

Y/N’s posture became rigid. But surprisingly she agreed. He figured she would start scaling his shoulder but she waited as if expecting something.

His hand.

He realized it when her eyes flickered towards the one closest to her so he obliged. Slowly as if approaching a scared kitten his hand unfolded to display flattened fingers that she could step easily onto. She stood up slowly and neared his index finger. Her impossibly tiny hand on his digit made him twitch minutely. He cursed himself inwardly for such actions that he could not control. She sat in the dip of his palm weighing nothing more than a feather, and his breath caught in his throat at her fragility. He lifted his hand slowly to his right shoulder and waited patiently for her to dismount onto the broad platform. Tiny grunts of effort reached his ear as she situated herself nearer to his neck, her movements raising goosebumps on his skin. The small noises stopped as she finally found a comfortable spot.

“Are you comfortable?” Loki asked, making sure to keep his voice low.

“Y-yeah, I’ve never been on a shoulder before. You’re really warm.” Her voice was very clear and easy to hear when she was right next to his ear. Perhaps he should do this more often. Loki smiled at her comment, happy to provide comfort for his tiny friend.

Y/N and Loki had criticized the characters and plot the whole way through the film. Well maybe halfway for Y/N as she had fallen asleep upon his shoulder. Little breaths and snores escaped her mouth bringing a smile to Loki’s lips. Gently he brought her down from his shoulder into his cupped palms, trying to not wake her. Her little frame was dwarfed by the immensity of his hands. Despite the big-boss attitude she brought he was reminded of her delicateness. He walked to her room with a careful gait and came upon her house. There was no way his entire hand could fit through the door, and he wasn’t going to leave her there on the floor. So he turned around and headed to his own room once again.

Perhaps on a pillow, she would be comfortable, but he worried she’d become cold as she had mentioned before how sensitive she was to the elements. Out of pure instinct because it was a rather warm and soft place he placed her upon his chest. As he did so he realized how much his breathing could affect her and immediately tried to restrict his chest from rising and falling. That caused his heart to beat even harder and faster thumping rapidly under Y/N’s body causing her to slightly move. Eventually, he found a normal rhythm in both patterns of his normal body functions and drifted to sleep.

Y/N awoke to an unfamiliar but comforting rocking and thumping sensation. Blinking her eyes open tiredly she looked at the undulating expanse of black cotton fabric that surrounded her. Her gaze snapped up to Loki’s face. He slept soundly, not disturbed by her awakening. The puffs of air from the exhale he released faintly blew her face. How did he not have morning breath? She wondered how she had gotten up here on his chest, or even in his bed. She remembered falling asleep on his shoulder but couldn't he have woken her or set her in her bed in her house? Then she realized: His hand was probably too big and Loki cared much for her sleeping schedule, and he would feel guilty if he had awoken her from slumber. Loki soon awoke and greeted Y/N with a sleepy smile. He said nothing about the sleeping situation. In the nights to come, Y/N would find her bed less comfortable than Loki’s chest, his hand atop her warmer than her fluffiest blanket. An odd comfort, yet, soothing in its gentility and peacefulness.

Y/N had rarely been outside. With a grand height of two and a half inches, the world outside was a much more dangerous place than here in the tower. But with Loki, perhaps she could change that…

“Hey Loki,” Y/N climbs onto the book he currently reads, leaving little footprints of dust behind from her dirty boots. Loki notices this and pinches her waist lifting her so he can close the book allowing her to stand on the cover.

“Yes, little Y/N?” Loki has taken a liking to the nickname and to his surprise, Y/N hasn’t commented on it either.

“Do ya think we could maybe go outside on a walk or something?” She asks with nerves in her voice, she doesn’t want her request to be rejected.

“I see no problem with that as long as you stay on my person the entire time. You can even sit on my shoulder, I’ll be able to cast an illusion to make you unseen to others’ eyes.”

Y/N beams and her mood is immediately uplifted, all anxiety gone.

“Oh my goodness yes! Let me go get my sunglasses and my sandals. Oh!” Y/N keeps naming off things as she sprints back to her room excitement in every step.

Loki laughs loudly at her rambling, a blush rising to his cheeks.

The sun warms Y/N’s body as she perches on Loki’s shoulder, true to his word, no one spies the two-inch girl. Loki’s gait rocks her with every step and she clings to his shirt collar for support. The sky is blue with a gentle breeze in the air cooling the warmness around them. Loki wears his black hair in a low bun; before they had walked outside he insisted on wearing it up, worried the dark strands would get in Y/N’s way. They enjoy each other’s company in a comfortable silence until Loki asks her if she likes ice cream. It had been a while since she had tasted the delicacy and sweetness of the cold treat. After her run-in with the whole shrinking episode, she had been on her own for quite a bit. Scavenging for food when it came, she was not picky in the slightest. Ice cream was a dessert she came by not too often.

“What is your favorite flavor?” She asks Loki before they walk into the small shop.

Loki ponders for a moment wetting his lips with a swipe of his tongue.

“I like vanilla.” He states, making Y/N turn towards him with astonishment.

“Vanilla! That’s like the plainest one yet! Come on, you gotta have a better one than that.” She exclaims.

Ignoring her disagreement with his choice, he asks: “What is your favorite?”

“Oh definitely, one hundred percent cotton candy.” She says without missing a beat.

“That’s terribly sweet don’t you think? I believe vanilla is the better choice here.”

“Hey! I like my choice very much, thank you!” She laughs lightly hitting his jaw, watching as his face lifts with a smile from their playful banter. The rest of the day played out nicely after they had both eaten their ice creams. Loki offered to shrink Y/N’s but she insisted she’d rather have more to eat. He had laughed a full belly laugh when she ended up falling into the mound of ice cream herself. He had used his magic to clean her up.

The next day Loki found out that Y/N and he were put on a mission together. Infiltrate an enemy base to get valuable information. Easy enough he thought. He was wrong. Turns out keeping an eye on a tiny person is harder than it sounds.

Halfway into the mission, Y/N’s voice went quiet on his headset. She had been tasked with exploring the vents for easier access to the archive room where the records they needed were kept. He had no way to physically reach her, because of his size. The best he could hope for was her voice to sound in his ear again through the headset. Anxiety pumped through him, his mind coming up with terrible scenarios that could’ve happened already. He tried to keep a clear head, focusing on the task at hand. He made it to a doorway held guard with two men carrying heavy guns. He simply illusioned himself as another soldier, using the keycard he had swiped off the soldier he was illusioned as of now. Making it into the security room he checked the cameras for any sign of Y/N. To his horror, he saw that they also had cameras in the air vents. Where Y/N had been previously.

He exited the room in a calm fashion while panicking immensely on the outside. Running his hands through his hair, he paced back and forth. He usually kept a clear head in stressful situations, but the thought of losing Y/N made him sick with worry and terror. That’s when he felt a weight hit his boot. He immediately looked down and saw Y/N’s panting, exhausted form sprawled out on the toe of his shoe. He knelt quickly scooping her up, bringing her to his eye level. She rolled over to meet his gaze.

“Are you alright, what happened? You worried me sick?” Loki blurted.

She held up a rectangular box showing it to Loki. The flash drive.

“Got it. But we gotta move, there are cameras in those vents, and I’m pretty positive they caught sight of a certain tiny person.”

Loki groaned with aggravation but was relieved to have his tiny friend back in his grasp.

He dropped Y/N into his pocket gently, he had asked that most of his clothes come with pockets from now on to hold Y/N safely with him.

“Remind me to never let you out of my sight again.” Loki jokes.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night after hot showers and a good meal Loki and Y/N were ready to go to sleep. Y/N laid peacefully on Loki’s chest, rising with his every breath. Loki lay down with a hand over his eyes. But a certain nagging question still held his mind from sleep.

“Y/N, how did you get to be…” He can't finish the last word, worried he’ll bring up unwanted emotions and memories.

“How’d I get so small?” Y/N finishes for him.

“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.” He reminds with a gentle fingertip rubbing circles onto her back.

“No, no...I need to tell someone. I’ve been keeping it under lock and key but I trust you Lokesters.”

He smiled at the new nickname she had given him watching as she turned towards him, sitting criss-cross. He propped his head with his hands to see her clearly.

“I didn’t have the best parents out there. They struggled with bills, because they were too worried about getting their drugs, So one night when I was ten years old they took me to a restaurant. We never went to restaurants, kind of a fancy thing for me you know? I was excited and had gotten my favorite blue dress on to go. I started to realize they had lied to me when we passed the restaurant and kept driving. They took me to a HYDRA base, but I didn't know that at the time, all because they wanted money. So they gave me up for experiments and left me for their high.”

Y/N took a deep breath to stop the tears from coming and continued.

“The scientists or whatever strapped me down to a table and stuck me with this needle. Well, I guess you know what happened and they kept me for three years in a cage with all types of different tests to measure my strengths. They were tortuous, so I had to escape and I did. But when I was about thirteen and a half I was able to sneak away. I lived in boxes on the streets, outside under rocks, trying to scavenge by. Even met a couple borrowers like you were reading bout’. They were awfully nice fellows but were barely getting by themselves so I couldn’t take off of them. But one day I was stealing or whatever you wanna call it and got caught by no other than Nick Fury himself. Told me he needed little guys like myself and offered me a place to stay, food to eat, and a job of my own. So I took it and here I am.”

Loki was astonished by the strength of this small girl, how she’d survived through such hardships and still had a good heart and kind soul. He hugged her closer to his chest, careful not to smother her.

“Well little one, you got me now and I'm not going anywhere.”

Y/N popped her head out from his grasp and eyed with scrutiny.

“Even for the Tesseract?” She asked.

Loki laughed and hugged her again, watching as she embraced him as well.

“Even for the Tesseract.”

———————————————————————

Please reblog if you liked it! Lots of love ❤️

#giant loki #loki laufeyson #Loki fanfic #giant/tiny #tiny reader #shrunken reader #marvel #gt marvel

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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago

Text

Lost & Found - 8

Pairing: Park Jimin x soulmate (oc)

Warnings: Insecurity, anxiety, abandonment

Word Count: 3.7k

a/n: Happy Wednesday! I hope your week is going well so far, enjoy this update! Let me know your thoughts!

Chapter 8. Face Yourself

series masterlist

“You know, I kind of expected to see you again.” Christina leads me into her home, waiting for me to remove my shoes before walking further into the house. It has an industrial look to it, giving off a generally cold feeling. Something about it though makes the house feel warm.

It’s probably Christina. Despite not being overjoyed to see me, she still emits a friendly aura. That is, until Elle decides to hop out and snoop about.

“Er…” Christina rubs her nose harshly, eyeing my cat. “I’m actually pretty allergic to cats…”

I launch into action, scooping Elle up in my arms even though she protests with a pitiful hiss. “I’m so sorry, if I’d have known-”

“It’s not your fault,” Christina replies, gesturing toward a familiar gray door. “Are you alright with leaving your cat in the warehouse while we chat?”

Nodding, I walk over and pry the door open. A blast of cool air hits me, taking my breath away and resulting in a sigh of long-suffering from Elle. Christina reaches into the warehouse, flicking on the light and the heat.

“Would your cat like...um...a bowl of milk? To sip on while she waits?”

I can’t help but smile at Christina’s offer. Glancing down at Elle, I watch the way her tail flicks back and forth as she wanders about the warehouse. “That would be great, actually.”

Once Elle has been taken care of and Christina has moved us to her kitchen, I allow myself to recall the events of a couple weeks ago. I’m passed a mug of apple cider, heart aching at the similarities from before.

Christina offers me a seat on one of the stools, standing on the opposite side of the island. She takes a long sip of the cider, a faraway look in her eyes. I wonder if she’s remembering the last time we shared a drink together.

When I told her who my soulmate was, and she suddenly became very, very quiet.

“So what brings you back here?” Christina asks, finally breaking the memory-laden silence. I look at the mug in my hands for a long moment, collecting my thoughts.

“I…” my vision clouds over for a moment, and I take a deep breath. Once the tears have receded, I try again. “I’ve been told to come to terms with my actions. With all that I’ve done wrong.”

“To make it right?” Christina asks, her expression betraying nothing of her innermost thoughts. “Because like I said, I don’t do refunds. Can’t, actually.”

I finally look up at Christina, really looking at her for the first time.

Her hair is dark and thick, falling below her ribcage. It’s long. Today it’s down, lightly curled.

It makes her look soft. Normal.

So at odds with her choice in profession.

“No,” I respond. “No, not that. I’ve been instructed to...to forgive myself…?”

Christina blinks, resting her elbows against the countertop. “You don’t sound very convinced.”

“That’s probably because I’m not.”

Nodding along, Christina looks down at her hands. She begins to trace the lines in her palms, allowing herself a moment to think. After a few heartbeats, she looks back up at me. “It sounds like you’re seeing someone about this,” she points to my left hand that I have wrapped around the mug. The cut thread hangs there, barely touching the top of the island.

“I am.”

“A trained professional?”

“Yes.”

She lets out what appears to be a sigh of relief. “Good.” Flicking her hair over her shoulder - how did I never notice how long her hair is? - she furrows her brows ever so slightly. “So...why are you here? Not that I want you to leave, I’m just a little confused. Isn’t this place...aren’t I a part of your problem?”

I blink, letting her words sink in. “Christina, you’re not a problem to be fixed.”

An indescribable emotion flickers across her face, but it’s gone before I can put a name to it. Instead she straightens up, moving to put the apple cider back in the fridge. “Then explain to me just what you plan to do here today.”

With her back turned to me I have no idea what she’s thinking or if I’ve already overstepped my bounds, but I venture on. “Well...I don’t really get it. You know, the forgiving part. I’ve heard about it a lot, sure. I guess I just don’t have a lot of practice in it, though.” Christina turns back around, resuming her spot across the island from me. “And it just seemed to me like maybe you do, I guess.”

She’s back to tracing her palm now, absorbing my request. Slowly, she tilts her head to one side, looking at me with unadulterated curiosity. “You want me to teach you how to forgive yourself?”

I nod hesitantly, hoping it’s the right answer. Christina scoffs, a challenge in her eyes.

“How can I teach you about forgiveness when it’s clear you don’t want to forgive yourself?”

“W-what-”

“You want me to explain it to you step by step? It isn’t something that you can just check off of a to-do list, Jolie. I need you to understand that.” Christina rises up to her full height, running her hands through her hair. “You can’t just move through the motions and hold yourself up to the list of qualifications for forgiveness and hope you make it. Because you won’t. Every single time, you will fall short. We all do. And it really sucks, but it’s true. How do you think people find it in them to forgive themselves when they’re completely aware of just how much they’re lacking?”

My heart hammers, the truthfulness in her words pounding into me like an anvil. At a loss, my mouth simply opens and closes like a fish. She sees my dilemma, raising her eyebrows.

“Because they care.” Christina lets out a deep breath, her eyes never leaving my face. I feel absolutely naked before her, all of my flaws laid out like a buffet. It’s impossible for me to move, to run away, though. I can hardly breathe as is. She continues on, a fire in her eyes.

“They care enough about themselves to know that even though they will never meet the expectations laid out for them, they deserve to be forgiven.” Christina’s voice comes out thick with emotion, unshed tears welling up in her eyes. “And that is what you lack, Jolie. You want to suffer. You want to use the pain that’s building up inside of you as some sort of way to atone for what you’ve done. But it doesn’t work like that.”

Sitting there at Christina’s kitchen island, the words hanging in the air above me, I can’t find it in me to lie. Not when this woman stands before me, battle-worn from life and still fighting, would know in an instant.

I can’t lie to myself anymore.

Eyes falling to my mug of apple cider, I see myself reflected in its murky contents. My own pitiful, broken self staring back at me.

“I’m so tired of lying to myself,” I whisper. I hardly notice Christina coming around the island and taking up a spot beside me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

When I finally find it in me to look at her, I see nothing but calm understanding.

Like she knows. Like she’s been here before, in some capacity. Judging from the severed thread she sports, chances are she knows exactly what sort of heart-wrenching pain is wracking my soul right now.

With a soft, heart-broken smile, Christina whispers back, “Then start with the truth.”

✂

“Honestly, she’s a fool for not texting you back. That last text you sent was gold.” Jin stares at an unopened box of churros, rubbing his belly before leaning forward to pry it open. “Pure gold, I tell you.”

“Yeah,” Jimin cringes as he watches Jin take a bite of the churro. They’ve eaten to the point of stomach-aches. “That’s because you wrote it.”

“Exactly.”

Jimin’s cell phone sits in the middle of the table, under constant surveillance by the seven boys. An hour has passed since he sent off the last text to Jolie; a quip about how Elle must have taken pity on him.

When he hadn’t received a message within the first two minutes, he’d wanted to send something else. Taehyung had stopped him, ordering him to eat and breathe for a few minutes. What had begun as a temporary distraction had now dragged on for far too long, in Jimin’s opinion.

With dread in his stomach, he asks, “What if she’s freaked out about texting a guy so soon after everything? She’s probably not in a place to even think about talking with other guys. Do you think she’s ghosting me?”

This makes even Jin pause in his act of gorging himself, swallowing harshly and launching himself into a coughing fit. Jungkook slaps him on the back, frowning.

“No…” the maknae protests weakly. “She wouldn’t ghost you...would she?”

“Well, she doesn’t really have the best track record when it comes to me,” Jimin jokes, the attempt falling flat as everyone sullenly agrees.

Sighing, Taehyung grabs Jimin’s phone and extends it to him. “What are you gonna say?”

Unlocking his phone, Jimin sighs heavily. “Erm...apologize for the lame joke?”

“Hey!” Jin feigns offense, taking an angry bite of his churro.

“Good move,” Taehyung whispers. Jimin chuckles, pulling up the text conversation. Once he types out the message, he shows it to his members. They all agree, although Jin does so a little sulkily.

“Ok and...sent.”

Me: Sorry for the dumb joke...I guess it wasn’t as funny as I initially thought 😅

Jimin sets the phone back down on the edge of the table, struggling to stomp down on the hope growing in his chest. No matter what he does, he can’t stop seeing Jolie in his mind. The way she smiled at Elle, hauling her groceries up to her apartment.

How can his soulmate live so close to him and yet still be so far away?

Namjoon groans as he sits up, looking at an email he just received on his phone. Hobi frowns, reading over his shoulder.

“What is it?” Jimin asks. Namjoon and Hobi share a look before seemingly coming to an agreement.

“It’s just another message from Bang PD,” Namjoon sighs, rubbing his face. “Fans are still...freaking out about everything.”

Jimin blinks, having almost forgotten about the outside world for a moment. “What are they doing?”

“They’re just convinced that Bighit is hiding your soulmate, trying to control the situation. Some of them are fine with it, but there’s a significant amount that are offended.”

“Mainly offended because they think that you don’t trust them enough to still show up to our events,” Yoongi clarifies, giving the younger boy an apologetic smile. Jimin’s eyes become glazed over, mind running rampant with what people must be saying about him.

Hobi jumps in, hating to see that look on Jimin’s face. “But we’re taking the ‘no comment’ route, remember? So they’ll just have to sit tight until you’re ready to come back.”

It’s quiet for a moment before Namjoon speaks again. “Bang PD is just a little worried about our upcoming muster. You know, about fan’s reactions when you aren’t there and-”

“I’ll come.”

Everyone looks to Jimin in pure shock, Taehyung immediately jumping in. “No, it’ll be fine Jiminie, really. You don’t need to come. It’s only been two weeks, take more time.”

Jimin hardly even blinks. “And the muster is in...what, five days? That’s about three weeks of a break for me. I can’t just sit around like this anymore, you guys. I’m losing it.”

Jungkook speaks up from where he’d been quietly sitting beside Jin. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you need to jump back into full concert mode. That’s too much to ask of yourself.”

Everyone seems inclined to agree, already nodding their heads. Jimin sees his window of opportunity closing, and takes a shot before it’s gone.

“One song.” Jimin scoots onto the edge of the sofa, running a hand through his hair. “Just let me do one song with you guys. Enough to let everyone see me, that I’m alright. That they don’t need to...worry about me hiding a soulmate from them.”

“I don’t know, Jimin…” Namjoon begins, twirling his phone in his hands. “It’s probably going to be really intense, and once you get out there you can never go back to the peace you’ve got right now. People will be practically knocking down our door to get answers.”

“I know. Just...I want to see them.” Glancing down at his phone which still hasn’t received a text back, Jimin sighs. “Just one song. I can’t hide forever. And I don’t think I want to.”

Namjoon begrudgingly agrees to bring it up with Bang PD, not promising anything. Either way, Jimin lets out a sigh of relief at the thought of possibly getting to perform soon. Despite the certain problems that are bound to follow, at least he can hold a mic again. See Army.

He’s not completely sure if it’s the right time, but it feels like the right step. Staring at his phone and praying for it to light up with a message from his soulmate, Jimin voices his thoughts aloud.

“I think she needs to know that she hasn’t wrecked my life beyond repair, you know?” Reaching forward, he flips his phone so he can no longer see the screen. “I can live with the pain.”

✂

“Just because you can survive the pain doesn’t mean you should consign yourself to a life full of it.”

Christina is on her second mug of apple cider, the smell of blueberry muffins permeating the air in the living room. We moved here to a little while ago, Christina deeming this conversation worthy of her comfy couches.

I nod along with wide eyes, almost wishing that I had a notebook with me. The way that Christina speaks to me makes me want to write down every word.

Pure honesty. That’s what it is.

“Can I ask what made you get into this business?” I ask, suddenly needing to know more about what made Christina the way that she is.

A dark cloud intercepts Christina’s kind gaze, and she chews on the inside of her cheek for a moment. “I...it’s a long story.”

“Do I look like I have a life?” My comment earns me a sharp chuckle from Christina, who gets into a more comfortable position on the couch. The grays and white undertones of the room makes the small fire in the fireplace pop out all the more.

“Good point. Either way, I’m not a very big fan of going into too much detail where my story is concerned.” Setting her mug down on the coffee table, she takes a deep breath in before letting it out. “Long story short...I met my soulmate. Fell in love with him, actually.”

My eyes instinctively fall to her cut thread, my stomach knotting up with whatever dreadful fact is coming next.

“What I considered to be a pure, beautiful relationship turned into something like Stockholm Syndrome. My soulmate he...he believed that I was his, and only his. He slowly cut off all communication with my family, my friends. At first I didn’t notice what he was doing, but when I came to my senses...let’s just say I did everything in my power to get out.”

I remain frozen in my seat, heart nearly stopping. “Christina, that’s horrible.”

“It was. But the moral of the story is that I got out. I got help. And in turn, I help others the only way I know how.” She glances down at my left hand, something like regret lingering there in her eyes. “I don’t usually ask my clients any questions. I know when I was running and trying to cut my thread, the last thing I wanted was to bring up my history. However, with you...I wish I would’ve asked.”

It stings, but it makes sense. I fidget a little in my seat, twirling my thread around my finger. “Would you have turned me away if you knew the truth?”

Christina sits quietly for a moment, chewing on the question. “I definitely would have tried to get you to think it through a bit more. Maybe I would have turned you away, I don’t know. If I’d have known that Park Jimin was on the other end of that string....I don’t know if I would have been able to stomach doing that to him.”

I nod. It would appear that in my desperation, I’d forgotten that my decisions would harm more people than just those directly connected to the thread around my finger.

“I’m assuming you’re a fan?” I ask a little drily. Like flicking on a switch, Christina’s eyes light up.

“Oh, absolutely. But especially of Jimin.” I feel my eyebrows arch, a fresh wave of guilt sluicing through me. Christina doesn’t begin to curse me, though. “You know his song ‘Promise’? On those days after I’d cut the thread and felt my will slipping, like I might go back to my soulmate after everything he’d done to me...I’d listen to that song. I’d promise myself over and over again that I wouldn’t throw it all away. I guess you could say that, in a way, he saved me.”

The fire pops and hisses in the fireplace, filling the temporary silence. Christina grabs her mug, taking another sip before realizing that it’s empty. She gets up, excusing herself while she goes to the kitchen to get some more cider.

Alone in the small living room, I stare at that fire while different thoughts vie for my attention. Watching the flames, I stumble upon another truth. One that blasts a door open on my understanding of the past two weeks. Of what drove me here, to Christina’s, on that fateful night. Thread in tow, begging for it to be cut.

Jimin creates. He creates beautiful opportunities for people, second chances for people like Christina who so desperately needed one. He’s there, for people he’s never met and never will meet, cheering them on in their endeavors.

And me? I destroy. I’ve always seen that in myself. So when I saw Jimin up on stage that night, completely entranced by him as he bounced around and danced and smiled, I knew that there was a stark difference between us. I could admire that difference, from a distance.

Yet when I saw the way my string followed his ever so slightly...as my eyes traced the thread between us, coming to the same conclusion every time that it was Park Jimin who was on the other side, I believed it to be a mistake.

How could I be paired with someone so good? How could a devil be tied to an angel?

And yet...Christina reenters the room, smiling warmly at me as though I wasn’t the one that made her unknowingly cause harm to one of her idols. It’s Christina, who sits across from me with her third cup of apple cider, that makes me realize that perhaps fate was right all along.

Christina destroys bonds for a living. She destroys seemingly unbreakable bonds, for a price. And what is supposed to be the most horrifying profession of all, comes from a place of sympathy. Of charity.

Perhaps destruction clears the path for creation.

Maybe, just maybe, Park Jimin and I are a perfect match.

✂

The moon has risen by the time Jimin gets a reply. He’s just fallen onto his bed, his hair still wet from his shower, when his phone vibrates.

He nearly rolls off of his bed and onto the floor in an attempt to retrieve his phone, but he manages to stay upright. His heart launches into a frenzy at the sight of Jolie’s name on his phone, and immediately he’s back to replaying the scene of her in his head.

Jolie (Elle): Sorry, I was visiting a friend and lost track of time. And yes, the joke was lame. I’m glad that you can admit it 😂

Jimin chuckles, making a mental note to tell Jin that his joke really was lame. He stares at the screen for a moment longer, struggling to come up with something to reply. Before he can write anything, however, three dots pop up as Jolie types something in.

He stares and stares at those three dots, sucking on his bottom lip. When the text comes through, he lets out a shout of triumph.

Jolie (Elle): Also, I think that Elle misses you. Either that or she’s mad at me for ignoring her

Taking a deep breath, Jimin types out a reply. He rereads it a couple of times before giving in and hitting send.

Me: I’m sure she does. How dare you ignore her? Don’t you know that she’s royalty?

Jolie (Elle): Oh no.

Jolie (Elle): She’s got you wrapped around her finger.

Me: I think you meant paw 😼

Jolie (Elle): This entire conversation is ridiculous, I hope you know that 😂

Huffing out a laugh, Jimin brings his pillow to his chest. Oh, he’s aware of the ridiculous nature of the conversation. But if it’s the only way he can communicate with his soulmate, then so be it.

Me: I’m aware, don’t worry. I’d better let you get some rest. Give Elle some cuddles for me, will you?

A part of him hopes that Jolie will protest, insisting that they talk for longer. However, he gets the next best thing.

A photo of Elle, sitting at the end of a bed and looking at the camera like she’s posing for a portrait. Jolie sends a message a heartbeat later.

Jolie (Elle): She won’t let me touch her right now...she’s still angry 😂 but when she forgives me, I’ll be sure to tell her that the cuddles are from you.

Jolie (Elle): Goodnight!

“I’ll talk to her tomorrow,” Jimin whispers to himself in an attempt to calm his beating heart. He stares at the photo for a moment longer, taking in as much detail as he possibly can. Jolie isn’t in it, but the outline of her legs under the blanket are enough to remind Jimin that this is real. It’s all real.

And he’ll talk to her tomorrow.

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kasienda · 4 years ago

Text

Right Behind You - Ch 2: Friends

Chapter 1

The silver limo pulled to a stop outside of Adrien’s building. His luxury oversized studio apartment was on the top floor. Adrien didn’t move from his seat, his eyes locked onto the white van parked across the street from the entrance. He couldn’t even come and go as Chat Noir as long as the media had him on stakeout. He wasn’t sure if they’d assume Chat was his lover, or if they’d piece together his identity, but neither possibility was remotely appealing.

He turned to Nino, who was seated beside him, popping the last chouquette into his mouth.

“You sure you want to be seen with me?” Adrien asked. “They might assume you’re my boyfriend.”

Nino shrugged, licking the crumbs off his fingers. “People have assumed far worse about me.” Nino turned to him with a grin. “We could make a show of it if you want?”

Adrien smiled in spite of himself. He couldn’t resist the boyish playful look on Nino’s face. “What do you have in mind?”

“Nothing major. We could hold hands! Just play it up, like we are together.”

Adrien laughed, feeling more than a bit tempted if only to turn the whole situation into a joke, but he didn’t want anyone else swept up in this scandal. Especially not Nino who already did so much for him. “I appreciate the thought, but I don’t want you or your family being harassed by reporters if it’s not even real.”

“We could handle it,” Nino insisted, his grin never fading.

“I’m not saying you couldn’t.” Though Adrien wasn’t sure if that was truly the case. Adrien knew that Nino wasn’t out with his family. He wasn’t going to force Nino to have that conversation before he was ready even if he did have the option of saying it was all for show. “I just… if you have to handle it, I want it to be for real.”

“Fine. Be that way,” Nino said, pouting.

“It almost seems like you want to be mistaken for my boyfriend,” Adrien teased.

Nino’s gaze turned towards the window. “If people think you’re taken maybe they’d be less likely to think they can get away with scamming you on the street.”

Adrien’s chest bloomed in warmth, and his lips stretched into another smile. He was never sure what he had done to earn Nino’s friendship, but he could no longer imagine what his life would be like without Nino’s warm, and often forceful, support.

Keep Reading on Ao3

Nino undid his seat belt, leaned forward, and clapped a hand onto Ezra’s shoulder. “Thanks Big G! Hope you have a good one!”

His bodyguard nodded acknowledgement, but didn’t smile. Ezra never smiled while on the clock. Adrien had no idea how he managed it.

Nino opened the door and exited the vehicle.

Adrien undid his own seatbelt. “Thank you, Ezra. You don’t need to stick around. I’m planning on hiding away all day. I’ll text you if that changes.”

The large man nodded, pointed his large index finger at Adrien’s chest, and signed an okay sign with raised eyebrows.

Adrien shrugged. “I’m… better than I was. I’ll be okay. Thanks for asking.”

Ezra pushed a knuckle to his own chin, flicking it upwards.

“I need to keep my chin up?” Adrien guessed.

The gruff man nodded. He still didn’t smile.

But Adrien did. “I promise I will try. See you tomorrow, Ezra.”

Then he exited the vehicle, and broke into a trot to catch up to Nino who was waiting at the top of the stairs in front of the double doors that led into the building. One short elevator ride later, they arrived at his front door.

The door swung open and they were greeted with the amazing smell of raspberry and flaky crust. Adrien kicked off his shoes, and glanced across the open floor plan towards the kitchen. Sure enough, Marinette was there, headphones in either ear, facing away from them as she wiped down the counter, which was dusted in flour.

When he had signed a lease, the elaborate space with marble countertops, stainless steel appliances, and an island prep space with a built in gas stove had all seemed remarkably excessive for him when he barely knew how to use a microwave. To this day, he ordered out more often than not. When he had first moved in four years prior, Marinette and Alya both refused to let the amazing set up go unused. And he was often spoiled with five star dinners from Alya, and baked perfection from Marinette. But Alya had left Paris for university, and Marinette had started coming around less and less often unless the whole gang had plans.

But she was here today and he was grateful.

Nino settled onto a high stool in front of the island, opposite Marinette.

“Marinette?” Adrien called loudly, hoping to be heard over whatever she was listening to.

She whirled around immediately, her blue eyes jumping up to his face. She tore the headphones out of her ears and threw herself at him. Her slender arms were quickly around his neck. He closed his eyes and basked in her comforting warmth against his chest.

“I came as soon as Nino texted me. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” he assured her, letting his chin rest on her shoulder. “It’s really good to see you.”

She pulled away, and stared into his eyes. He felt like he was being measured, but he couldn’t help the soft smile that grew on his face watching her so intently focused before she pulled him into a hug again.

“It’s been too long,” she agreed. It hadn’t been that long. Maybe two or three months, but once upon a time he had been unable to go a week without her dropping by at least once. “How can I help?”

Adrien let her pull away. “Tell me what smells so good and tell me it’s ready to be devoured right now.” He and Nino had just polished off a box of chouquettes from her parent’s bakery, but today felt like the perfect day for total self indulgence.

She laughed. “What you’re smelling is a raspberry torte, but it has to refrigerate for at least six hours. Papa says it’s better if you leave it overnight, but I’m never patient enough for that. It’s for round two later this afternoon. I was going to start on a batch of snickerdoodles next. Should only take about thirty minutes before we can partake!”

“Can I help?” he asked.

She grinned. “Absolutely!”

“The usual cookie ingredients?”

She nodded, “And cinnamon! Oh and do you happen to have cream of tartar? I already took out butter earlier.”

“Yeah, I keep all your baking ingredients in stock. I’ve learned I miss out if I don’t!” He grinned as he handed her a mixing bowl, and a large wooden spoon.

Nino had buried his head in his arms resting on the counter. Adrien poked him as he passed by with baking soda in hand. “You know there’s an extra bed right there,” he said, gesturing past the living area filled with leather sofas and ottomans to the guest “bedroom”.

It wasn’t really a guest room, as it didn’t have any walls. But the lack of walls was the whole reason he had elected to go for the studio over the three bedroom flat. He never felt trapped when the whole living space was one giant room. Even the wall to the balcony was made entirely of glass giving the illusion that the room extended into the open air around the building, but it was higher than any of the surrounding buildings meaning no one could really get a good view inside unless he was standing right at the window. A necessary consideration for a part-time superhero.

“Too far away,” Nino grumbled into his forearms. “I’m fine right here.”

“Suit yourself.”

A cell phone rang, and Nino immediately bolted to a sitting position, pulling out his device from the pocket of his green hoodie. He grinned at it, flashing the screen towards Adrien.

Nathalie Sancoer was calling.

“Mlle. Sancoer, I was expecting your call!” Nino answered, his voice positively gleeful as he mimed towards Adrien’s pocket.

“M. Lahiffe,” was the dry response on the other end, loud enough that Adrien and Marinette could hear.

Adrien pulled up his missed call log. Four missed calls from Chloé, one from Kagami, another from Marinette, and six from Nathalie. He held up the device to Nino with a resigned sigh.

His friend fist pumped in silent victory. Adrien supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised to lose the bet. “Ms. Sancoer, give me just a moment.” Nino muted the call. “I’m going to head out to the balcony. I might be a while.”

Negotiations apparently took time. Adrien seriously didn’t know what he had ever done to deserve a friend like Nino. “It’s all yours!”

Nino left out the back, and Marinette turned puzzled eyes toward him. “What was that all about?”

“They’re negotiating over me,” he explained, as he fished out white and brown sugar from his cupboards.

“What,” she said, her voice flat.

Adrien chuckled. “Father wants to talk to me, but he is unwilling to call himself. He makes Nathalie call me, and I’m not taking or returning her calls. My father apparently doesn’t find that to be an acceptable excuse for her being unable to get through to me, so when that happens she calls Nino and bribes him to get me to call her back.”

“That is awful.”

Adrien retrieved a couple eggs from the refrigerator. “No, it’s good! He gets her to take away a photo shoot here or there, or frees up my schedule so I can hang out with you and the gang.”

“That is still terrible! Adrien! I knew your father was strict and controlling and insufferable in so many ways! But Nino having to serve as your union representative? That is a new low! How long have you had to bargain this way?”

He ignored the question. He didn’t know the answer. It had been going on long before Nino started making it easier. “It’s how I got to have more control over my studies without being disinherited. For reasons I don’t understand, Nathalie listens to Nino more than she does me. And father listens to Nathalie and no one else. These are the tools I have, and I’m not going to be ashamed of using them. Fancy physics degrees don’t pay for themselves after all.”

She squeezed his shoulder. “I never said you should be ashamed. I just… I wish none of it was necessary.”

He shrugged. “That makes two of us. We never planned to do this. She just called Nino once when she couldn’t get a hold of me. I never asked him to go to bat for me.”

“Nino’s just awesome like that.”

“He most definitely is!” Adrien agreed enthusiastically, placing a bag of flour and the cream of tartar on the counter next to Marinette’s mixing bowl. “So… is that everything you need?”

Her eyes scanned over the items, as she silently mouthed the ingredients while counting them off on her hands.

“Just missing salt,” she concluded.

“Salt. Of course.” He retrieved the condiment from the third cupboard to the right.

“Are you really okay?” she asked him as he handed her the last ingredient.

He shrugged. “I’ll be fine. I’m mostly just embarrassed.”

She frowned, her eyes shining with concern. “I imagine it hurts too though. To think you’re having a moment only to find someone is lying to you the whole time?”

“I only knew him for a day,” he insisted, but he couldn't meet her eyes.

”If you say so. I’ve managed to fall in love in a day before,” she admitted softly.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’ve done that before, too. It hasn’t panned out for me though. You?”

Her eyes avoided his, intent on scraping the butter off its paper wrapper and into the stainless steel bowl. “Not as of yet.”

Her sadness hit him in the chest. “We make quite the depressing pair, don’t we?”

She scowled, her lips pursed to the side of her face. “No! Not today! Today, we’re indulging ourselves in baked goods, and maybe Chloé will bring some good wine and we can get tipsy.”

He laughed. “I like your plan. How much sugar?” he asked, holding up the bag.

“Umm… 150 grams.”

And quickly they fell into a rhythm almost not needing words. It was strange to him how easy it was to follow Marinette’s line of thinking, but as they had gotten older, it had only gotten easier.

Now, what she was feeling? He had no idea. She was as much as mystery to him now as she had been their first year of college.

“Did you ever hear back from Dior?” he asked into the silence.

Her whole form slumped, and he wished he hadn’t brought it up.

“Not good news, I take it?” he asked as he added the last portion of flour into the mixing bowl.

She growled. “The worst part is they left me glowing feedback. Practical and fashionable at the same time, they said.” Her stirring took on a furious pace, and flour burst into the air between them. He chose not to comment. “They had no criticisms to offer except that it wasn’t what they were looking for. I just wish they would tell you what they were looking for so that I could design with that theme in mind.”

“I don’t think they want to give away to the competition what they’re thinking.”

She groaned. “That makes sense. I just… I think I could deliver what they wanted.”

“I could talk to my father if you wanted?”

She dropped the wooden spoon and jerked her head towards him. “Absolutely not! You will not owe that man any favors on my account.”

“I bet New York would still take you, if you reached out. They seemed really excited about the possibility of you on their team. And you seemed so excited with their design philosophy.”

Her eyes turned glassy, threatening tears. “You’re probably right,” she whispered. “They probably would still take me…”

He turned her away from the counter and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. She trembled in his embrace. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he told her softly.

She shook her head. “I-It’s not your fault,” she stammered through her tears. “I was… already a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off.

“I’m not pressuring you to leave Paris if you’re set against it. I would miss you if you were gone,” he mumbled into her shoulder.

She pulled away and offered him a watery smile. “I would miss you, too.”

The front door clicked open. Adrien didn’t spare it a glance, knowing it was likely Chloé. Kagami always knocked despite the fact that she had a key. His attention remained on Marinette.

She wiped her tears away. “Enough about me!” she exclaimed. “Today is supposed to be about cheering you up!”

“Maybe if I could make you feel better I would feel better,” he told her, his lips quirking upwards in a sideways smile.

Marinette giggled. “That’s sweet. But I’m a bit of a lost cause at the moment. Maybe it would make me feel better to make you feel better!”

Chloé’s heels clicked definitely as she stepped into the tile floor of the kitchen.

“Are you two seriously arguing about who gets to make who feel better?” she growled out in exasperated greeting.

“Uh… maybe?” Marinette hedged, turning away from Adrien’s comfort and back towards the cookies in progress. She soon was rolling out little balls of dough and lining them up on a baking sheet.

Chloé shook her head, mumbling something under her breath. But she didn’t comment further on how ridiculous they were. Instead, she wrapped Adrien in a tight embrace. “Are you okay, Adri-kins?” she whispered.

He nodded into her shoulder. “I am with you here.”

She squeezed him harder. There had been a time when she would have scoffed at such a statement. But a random off topic tangential lesson on recognizing abusive relationships in tenth grade Literature, a fortune spent on intensive therapy, and time spent in self reflection, his oldest friend had become someone he could rely on again.

She pulled back, and scooped out a spoon of cookie dough from the bowl, and began licking it.

“Hey!” Marinette objected. “Those aren’t done yet!”

“I hate to break it to you, Dupain-Cheng, but they are better this way.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, but didn’t comment as she dipped a cup in a sugar cinnamon mixture and then pressed the cup gently into each ball of dough.

Chloé turned to Adrien again. “So, what can you tell us? Who are we plotting revenge against?”

Adrien groaned. “No! No revenge.”

Chloé patted his shoulder consolingly. “Don’t worry. You won’t have to be a part of it at all. I’ll take care of it. I’m sure Tsurugi will help. You in Dupain-Cheng?”

Marinette cocked her head, her gaze considered the ceiling. “Yeah… I think I am.”

“Marinette!” he hissed.

“What?!” Marinette exclaimed. “Someone goes after my friend? After you? And you want me to just let it go?”

“Yesss!” Chloé grinned. “Welcome to the dark side, Dupain-Cheng.” She offered a fist, which Marinette reciprocated.

“No,” Adrien repeated firmly. Chloé remained unmoved while Marinette shifted more nervously from foot to foot. “I’m serious. No revenge! That won’t make this go away any faster. And it won’t make me feel any better.”

Chloé stared at him, her face a mask of stoicism. “Is it so bad that we want to protect you?”

“Chloé, please,” he begged. “Promise me. No revenge.”

Chloé pouted, glancing down at her nails. “You’re absolutely no fun.”

Adrien rolled his eyes, very aware that she had promised nothing. “Oh, I’m so sorry to ruin your day.”

Marinette threw her arms around him again. “We’re so sorry.”

“Speak for yourself,” Chloé said. “I have nothing to apologize for.”

Marinette and Adrien shared an eye roll, but a knock at the door suppressed any comeback from either of them.

Adrien shook his head. “I’m going to go remind Kagami for the thousandth time that she has a key.”

He swung the door open revealing Kagami in a deep red business suit. She always looked good in the color. He was more than a bit envious.

She stepped forward and they exchanged the formal la bise greetings before they stepped back into the entryway of his studio.

“Coming from the office?” he asked, as he took her coat and scarf.

“An interview. A potential psychologist to add to our founding team. She is somewhat an expert on assessment and screening for red flags that could be indicative of current or past trauma among children and adolescents.”

He grinned. “That’s fantastic! I know I’ve already said it a dozen times before, but I think this foundation for neglected and abused children you and Chloé have started is amazing. I just can’t help but wonder how much better off she and I would have been if someone had caught us earlier in our lives.” And maybe Kagami too, even if her situation could be classified slightly differently.

Kagami lips stretched into a fond smile. “I don’t know that you could be better than you are. You have so much integrity and resilience. I have always looked up to you.”

Adrien felt the heat burning to the back of his neck. He really needed to get better at taking compliments.

“I have always looked up to you, too, Kagami.”

She nodded in formal acknowledgement. “Before I forget, my mother wishes you good luck in light of your scandal, and offers the use of her PI if you want to check this guy out.”

He groaned. “Not you, too.”

She chuckled. “I told my mother you likely would not make use of her offer.”

“I’m sure that went over well,” he commented, his voice flat.

Kagami laughed. “She said you were foolish and naive to not go out of your way to protect your family legacy and honor from those that would besmirch it.”

“I wish I could say she was wrong, but it sounds like she has me pegged.”

“Would you two stop standing awkwardly in the doorway and come in?” Chloé called. She was sprawled elegantly across the corner of the black leather couch nursing another spoonful of cookie dough in one hand, and a glass of red wine in the other. Nino sat in the recliner, his red hat over his face. Adrien hoped he was actually asleep, but he had his doubts. Marinette remained in the kitchen, sliding her first sheet of cookies into the oven. He knew she would prepare a second before joining them in the living area.

Kagami took a seat on the opposite side of the couch of Chloé leaving the space between them for Adrien.

“Tsurugi! The suspense is killing me!” Chloé whined. “That report you just gave to Adrien was carefully neutral. How did it go?”

Kagami grinned. “I do enjoy giving you a hard time, but that was not my intention this time. I think it went really well.”

Chloé literally squealed and threw her hands up in a miniature victory dance without spilling any of her wine.

“You’re awfully excited,” Marinette commented with an amused grin. “Who were you interviewing?”

Chloé spun back towards the kitchen island where Marinette was dusting another twelve cookies in her cinnamon sugar mixture. “You don’t understand!” Chloé exclaimed. “This woman was amazing! It’s like she could have written our mission statement! She had so many ideas for how children in abusive situations could be identified earlier, for what type of education is needed for children to recognize harmful situations themselves. And she somehow projected this aura of such gentleness. She would be so approachable. And yet, it didn’t diminish her passion at all!”

“You fell in love didn’t you?” Adrien smirked at her.

She turned back to him, and held up two manicured fingernails a centimeter apart. “Only a little bit.” Her blue eyes immediately shifted to Kagami. “But that’s not why I want to hire her! She will be an asset in getting the foundation off the ground!”

Kagami nodded. “No, I agree with you. She’s a good fit. I would like to make her an offer.”

“Tsurugi!” Chloé whined. “Why haven’t you already done that? I already told you I wanted to hire her! She’s going to be snatched up so quickly!”

“No, you didn’t. You told me you wanted to date her,” Kagami countered matter of factly.

Chloé spluttered, and then blushed. Everyone else laughed, including Nino, which definitely meant he wasn’t asleep. Adrien would have to fix that. “Can we talk about something else please?” she begged.

As if the universe had heard her, a siren blared right outside the building. Chloé immediately bolted for the window. She pushed aside the curtain and peered down into the street below, her lips stretching into a smile as satisfied as the cat who had found the camembert.

“Chloé?” Adrien asked, his voice dripping with suspicion. “What did you do?”

“Mwah?” she asked, her painted nails flared out to her chest dramatically with complete innocence. “I only did my civic duty by reporting someone that looked exactly like the wanted poster down at the precinct this morning hanging out in a creepy unmarked van.”

“Chloé!” Marinette scolded, but she was grinning as she peaked through the drapes over Chloé’s shoulder. “That’s terrible!”

“Efficient,” Kagami disagreed.

“He was doing nothing wrong,” Adrien said.

“Nothing illegal, maybe,” Nino said, replacing his hat onto the top of his head, revealing his face once again.

“Did he really deserve to be arrested?” Adrien asked, but it was clear that he was the minority in this debate.

Chloé’s blue eyes pinned him in place. “Do you really want them to have you under surveillance like that? That kind of trash understands only one thing! Power.”

Adrien sighed. “No, but there were other ways to take care of it.”

Chloé shook her head. “Adrien, you are amazing, and I love you! But you are way too nice! It’s not like he’s a journalist speaking truth to power! It’s not like he’s going after some corrupt asshole that profits off the plights of others while not paying his taxes.”

“You’d sick righteous reporters on your parents like that?” Nino teased. He was clearly trying to deflect the subject. “Harsh.”

“Though not undeserved.” Kagami added. She and Nino exchanged a fist bump across the open expanse between the sofa and his lounge chair.

“Can it, both of you!” Chloé snapped, shooting a glare towards both of them from the window.

Nino chuckled. He rolled out of the recliner and took over Chloé’s vacated seat next to Adrien.

The oven timer went off, and Marinette scurried from the window back into the kitchen. “Who wants cookies?”

“Just bring a giant plate!” Chloé called back. “We’ll eat everything.”

Seconds later, there was a crash, and a scream from the kitchen. Adrien bolted to his feet and ran to her side, Kagami less than an arm length behind him.

Marinette’s hands wrapped protectively over her head, she was surrounded by broken glass.

Adrien tread carefully around the largest fragments to put a hand on her shoulder.

She peeked out from under her hands to him. “I’m okay,” she said.

“What happened?” Adrien asked.

“Just me being my usual clumsy self,” she said, her voice dripping with self deprecation.

Kagami handed him the broom and he immediately started sweeping up the glass, starting with the area closest to Marinette.

Marinette sighed, dropping her arms completely to her side. “I just was reaching for another wine glass, but I couldn’t quite reach it. In trying to urge it closer, I overdid it, and the two glasses went flying.”

Kagami tisked in disapproval. “Perhaps, next time you should just ask for help?”

Marinette nodded in agreement. ”Yes, I’m sorry for being stubbornly independent.” She turned her gaze back to Adrien. “And I’m sorry for breaking your glasses. I will replace them.”

Adrien shook his head. “Please don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re okay. And I do wish you let us help you when you need it.”

Marinette snorted. “You’re one to talk.”

He grinned. “Touché.”

Kagami held the dustpan and he swept the glass into the tray.

“Do you have a mop?” Kagami asked.

When he handed her the requested item, she leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “Would you mind letting me do this part? I wanted to talk to Marinetted about something.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind helping.”

“I got this,” Kagami insisted.

He nodded, and turned back to Marinette who hadn’t moved since the glasses had fallen. “Are you okay?”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m… I’ll be fine. You should get back to your party. Kagami and I can finish cleaning this up.”

It was obvious he was being dismissed. “Okay, well, let me know if either of you need help finding anything.”

Adrien let himself fall back onto the couch next to Nino. His head flopped back onto the couch, his gaze locked on the ceiling.

“Marinette okay?” Chloé asked. She had taken Nino’s former seat in the lounge chair.

“Just rattled, I think,” he reported. “They kicked me out. Kagami wanted to talk to Marinette about something.”

“Ooh!” Chloé leapt to her feet. “I think I want in on this conversation! Excuse me!”

Adrien sighed again.

“If all the revenge talk really bothers you, I will get them to stop,” Nino told him softly after a moment of silence.

Adrien smiled. “Thank you for the offer. I do appreciate that everyone is all protective. It’s really nice to have you all on my side. I just… I also want this to be over. Ideally, I never want to have to think about it again after I talk to my father.”

Nino nodded. “Yeah, I get what you’re saying. You do get why they want to go after this guy though, right?”

Adrien shrugged. “Maybe?” He understood it intellectually he supposed, but emotionally, revenge had never made sense to him.

“Imagine it was you mystery girl on that tabloid instead of you. Where you can look at the picture and she looks happier than you’ve seen her in a long time.”

“Is it really that rare to see me smile?” Adrien objected.

“Have you seen this pic?” Nino asked, whipping out his phone, swiping through his apps. “It is not just a smile!”

“Please don’t make me look at it,” Adrien begged, turning away from Nino’s phone, towards the kitchen.

Marinette giggled at something Kagami had just said, and Adrien found himself smiling fondly at the pair.

“Yeah, fine,” Nino continued. “But again, she looks amazingly happy, and you now know that the person who was kissing her was lying. That in fact, the whole image is a lie. And she’s hurting somewhere after the fact because of it. Wouldn’t you want to do something?”

“Yeah okay,” Adrien conceded. “I get your point. And for the record, that would be the case if it had been any of you.”

“Good! So, if you’re willing to stand up for others, why won’t you ever let us stand up for you?”

Adrien hadn’t really thought about it in those terms. Was he just being stubbornly independent? Thinking he should be able to manage everything himself? Or did he believe deep down that he wasn’t worthy of being defended.

He shook himself out of his thoughts. That was a therapy session for another day.

“How did the phone call with Nathalie go?” Adrien asked, intentionally changing the topic.

A grin bloomed across Nino’s face.“Pretty good for you, I think? We managed to get five am fittings until you complete your masters degree. She wouldn’t commit to an indefinite change.”

Adren didn’t know why Nino used the “we” pronoun in his summary. His friend was the one doing all the work in negotiating out a deal. If Nino wasn’t already running a successful DJ business, Adrien would have pushed his friend to become a lawyer.

“Nino, that’s literally a year or more. Thank you. When do I have to talk to my father?”

“Eleven tomorrow morning. At the mansion.”

Adrien breathed a sigh of relief. He may have wanted to do his fittings first thing, but it would be nice to have time to mentally prepare in the morning before seeing his father.

“You’re the best.” It felt like a weight had been lifted from Adrien’s shoulders. With an appointment on the books with his father and his friends all in the room, his phone would finally stop blowing up. He could almost pretend it was a normal day.

“Anything for my best bro,” Nino said, offering a fist bump. He yawned in the middle of it.

“You should get some rest,” Adrien suggested.

Golden eyes turned toward him with eyebrows raised. “You didn’t get any sleep last night either, mec. Want to follow your own advice?”

Adrien barked a laugh. “I would love to, but I don’t think my brain shut up long enough to let me yet. It’s better to be distracted by all of you until I’m bone-dead tired. But you got everyone here, so if you want to take a shift off, I’m good for a while.”

Nino started to nod when there was a knock at the door. He jumped up to answer it.

“Isn’t everyone here already?” Adrien called after him.

“Not everyone,” Nino reported and answered the door. Alya Césaire stood on the other side of the threshold, and Adrien grinned at her unexpected presence. Last he heard, Alya had been chasing some International drug cartel in Italy.

“Hey Al,” Nino greeted as he enveloped her in a warm hug.

Adrien smiled at how well they fit together. He still didn’t understand why they had broken up. He rose to his feet to greet her, but a squealing Marinette came running from the kitchen, tackling Alya the second Nino had pulled away.

“I didn’t know you were in town!” Marinette exclaimed, a huge grin lighting up her features.

“Yeah, I honestly didn’t think I’d have time to see anyone so I was trying to keep it hush hush, but then I saw that headline…” she trailed off, her hazel eyes landing on him with a sympathetic smile from over Marinette’s shoulder.

“Say no more! You are totally welcome to be an honorary member of the “protect Adrien Agreste squad!” Marinette squealed happily as she pulled away.

Alya swept him up in a hug next, with Marinette and Nino joining in from behind him. He let himself melt into their protective holds. Once upon a time, the four of them had been as thick as thieves, and he had missed their dynamic.

“I called Nino as soon as I saw,” Alya confessed as they broke apart. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you myself. I just figured you would be more comfortable hearing from him, but if you ever need to talk about anything, please reach out.”

Adrien’s gaze landed on Nino who was grimacing over Alya’s shoulder. “Liar! I knew there was no way you were up that early.”

Alya laughed, her sparkling eyes flicking back toward Nino. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was getting anyone in trouble.”

Nino waved away her apology.

Marientte quickly ushered them all inside and back to the leather sofas. Soon, the six of them all sat around the plate of snicker doodles and with glasses of wine in hand.

“Spill Césaire!” Chloé demanded.

“About?”

Chloé rolled her eyes. “Stop. I know you’ve already done your research on this bastard that landed Adri-kins in the tabloids, and have a half formed plan for vengeance. So tell us what you’ve discovered so we can get it on it.”

Alya set her glass of wine on the center coffee table with a sigh. “You don’t want to know.”

Chloé scoffed. “What do you mean? Of course I want to know!”

“He recently graduated university,” Alya reported. “Majored in theater and minored in physics.”

Huh. Adrien hadn’t expected that. Maybe the conman hadn’t feigned his interest in Adrien’s research after all. He frowned. Or maybe, he had been hired specifically because he had the expertise to feign interest.

Nino’s head fell onto Adrien’s shoulder. His golden eyes had finally fallen victim to Nino’s sleep deprivation. Adrien couldn’t help the fond smile that stretched across his face as he adjusted his arms to make his lean form a more comfortable pillow.

“He hasn’t landed a job in about six months,” Alya continued, “and apparently he has some crippling debt.”

“That doesn’t justify…” Marinette broke in.

Alya barreled over the interruption. “Medical debt. For his… kid sister.”

“Ugh! Just stop!” Chloé cut in. “You’re right! I don’t want to know if you’re just gonna make me feel sorry for this guy.”

Alya smirked. “The trashy tabloid that hired him, though?”

“Now we’re talking!” Chloé exclaimed gleefully. Even Kagmai leaned forward with her elbows on her knees to listen to Alya’s research.

Adrien let his own eyes fall closed and he leaned into Nino’s warmth only half listening to his friends as they plotted and schemed.

Soon he was dozing in and out, finding comfort in the familiar righteous voices that spiraled around him.

Alya wanted to sink this online tabloid that had a reputation for going after easy personal scandals of celebrities and regular people alike. Chloé had connections that could crash the server for a solid week. Kagami has strategies and clout to encourage divestment from the organization. And of course Marinette’s crafty mind worked to tie it all together in a plan so bizarre, it was worthy of Ladybug so it couldn’t be traced back to Adrien or any of them.

Despite his own misgivings, it felt really good to have them all so willing to pour in hours and resources to come to his defense. And if the tabloid couldn’t hurt anyone else, Adrien definitely could get on board.

“I’m so glad you’re all on my side,” Adrien interjected, sleepily after about an hour. These were four women you did not want to cross. “I’d never survive your combined wrath.”

Their laughter melted together in the best kind of harmony.

A second later his phone buzzed in his pocket. He slowly fished it out, careful not to disturb Nino who remained on his shoulder - still as a rock.

Marinette had sent him a picture. He opened it to reveal him and Nino curled up on his black leather couch seemingly asleep with the tagline “I slept with my best friend” scrawled across the bottom in elegant cursive. He flashed her a smile and she grinned back.

Thank you, he texted. I’m going to frame this.

yw. The two of you are too cute.

Before he could craft a response, all their phones went off at once, and Adrien’s contentment evaporated like liquid nitrogen on a laboratory floor. The simultaneous alert could only mean one thing.

Nino sat up, his thumb and forefinger rubbing at his eyes.

“Shit!” Chloe muttered. “It’s at the office.” She glanced at Kagami. “We have to go.”

Kagami gave a stoic nod and rose to her feet gracefully.

Alya was only a second behind her. “I should probably go, too. To make sure the twins stay out of trouble.”

Adrien nodded and waved her away with a smile understanding completely. Alya’s twin sisters running the Ladyblog were somehow more reckless than Alya had ever been.

Marinette didn’t even offer an excuse. She just gave him a hug, grabbed her purse, and ran out the door.

Nino stood as well, but he lingered. “You going to be okay, mec?”

Adrien nodded, grateful that his friends had learned over the years to make themselves scarce during an akuma attack. They believed he was contacting his bodyguard for added protection under his father’s orders. He wished he could tell them the truth.

And within a minute, Adrien stood alone in his lavish studio save for Plagg who came out of hiding the second the front door had closed behind Nino.

“Stupid akuma,” Adrien muttered under his breath. His friends would have stayed until two in the morning had the alert not gone off.

Adrien called for his transformation and stood on his own balcony with his eyes closed for a second, letting the chill breeze whip his hair around. A moment later he activated his baton and vaulted into the Parisian sky.

A hero’s work was never done.

…

Chapter 3: Akuma

#adrino #adrinino #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #friends to lovers #hurt/comfort #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #Right Behind You #My Own Content #Ensemble scenes are SO HARD!#reblogs are love

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rocorambles · 4 years ago

Text

Complete

Pairing: Hanamaki x Reader x Matsukawa

Genre: Fluff, Tooth-rotting fluff

Summary: Three idiots finally get together

Requested by Anon

Matsukawa’s heart aches as he stares at Hanamaki and you laughing together at lunch, his own lunchbox on his lap, forgotten. His grip on his chopsticks tightens as Hanamaki wipes a stray piece of rice from your face, but with a sigh he picks up a piece of chicken from his lunch and focuses on eating. There’s nothing to be upset about. He knows that. He knows Hanamaki and you are just good friends, just like you and he are good friends. But when you turn your head away from the two boys as you sneeze, he looks at the way Hanamaki stares at you. He knows that’s not a look of platonic friendship. He knows it’s the same love sick face he gives you when you’re not looking at him.

Hanamaki and him have been attached to the hips for years. There was no one else that knew him better or that he cared for more...until you showed up. He still doesn’t quite understand how it happened, but you had somehow wormed your way between the two boys and now he can’t remember what it’s like to not be a trio. Text messages that used to just be between Hanamaki and him are now group chats that include you. Every time they score a point in a volleyball game, Hanamaki and he excitedly search for you in the crowd. His couch is a little more crowded as the three of you cram onto the furniture made for two. And it just feels right.

He doesn’t know when friendship turned into more, but suddenly he started flushing whenever you borrowed one of his t-shirts when you came over, it became hard to breathe when you comfortably sprawled out on his bed with Hanamaki and him when the three of you hung out, and he thinks he’s at risk of a nosebleed every time you bend down to adjust your shoes and your school skirt rises up. But he knows Hanamaki like the back of his hand and he knows the other boy is just as affected. He’s also seen the knowing looks Hanamaki gives him when his eyes linger a little too long on you. They’re both head over heels enamored with you, but when you fall asleep with your head on Hanamaki’s shoulder and your legs in Matsukawa’s lap, the two exchange a look and come to a silent agreement. Not wanting to ruin the bond you all have, they keep their feelings locked away and they take comfort in the fact that at least the three of you are together, even if it is just as friends.

It’s game time and the Aoba Johsai team warms up. Matsukawa and Hanamaki immediately look up as a familiar voice calls out their names, cheering them on. Instinctively they grin as they search for you, but they freeze at the sight of another male student sitting next to you. He’s far too close to you, his arm brushing against yours and the two athletes grit their teeth as they reluctantly turn their attention back to the court. Whenever they score a point, they look to you as usual and in your defense, you do give them your brightest smile and the cutest thumbs up when you make eye contact with your two best friends. But it’s not enough to make up for the few times they turn to you, only to see you deep in conversation with the boy next to you. Does he really need to lean in that closely? Why do you look so happy talking to him? Frustration and insecurity wrack through the duo and it’s only a harsh smack on the head from Iwaizumi during a timeout that whips them back into shape.

Exhausted after the grueling match, the team freshens up in the locker room. Usually Hanamaki would be the main driver leading light hearted post-game conversations with Matsukawa jumping in with his sly jokes and taunts, but today the two sluggishly maneuver around their teammates. They wait for the rest of the team to file out and mutely nod as Iwaizumi and Oikawa tell them to get over whatever slump they’re in, before turning to face each other.

Hanamaki breaks the silence first. “Mattsun, I know we’ve both been holding back for each other’s sake, but what if someone else takes her right from underneath our noses while we sit back and do nothing? If she does end up with someone, I’d rather it be one of us than some rando who doesn’t even take the time to know her like we do, who doesn’t even remotely care for her the same way we do.”

Matsukawa snorts. “Don’t be stupid, Makki. How would we even choose which of us asks her out? Would you really be happy if I dated her and you were left as a third-wheel? I know I wouldn’t be. That would never be enough for me.”

They fall silent once more. “What if we didn’t choose?” Hanamaki speaks so quietly that Matsukawa barely registers what he’s saying, but when it clicks, dark eyes lock onto the chestnut-haired boy next to him. Encouraged by the lack of an immediate rejection, Hanamaki slides closer and closer to the curly haired athlete next to him until there’s no space in between them and Matsukawa can feel Hanamaki’s breath on his face. He closes his eyes as lips tentatively meet his and there’s a brief pause before he sinks into the touch and wraps his long arms around Hanamaki’s waist. Hanamaki moans as Matsukawa’s tongue sneaks its way into his mouth and thoroughly explores the wet cavern, teasingly dragging against Hanamaki’s tongue in the process. This feels so right, so comfortable, but...there’s something missing and Hanamaki pulls back, slightly panting. “I want you and her, Mattsun. Both of you or nothing at all. We’re incomplete without all three of us.” Matsukawa gently places a hand on Hanamaki’s cheek, soothingly brushing his cheekbone as he nods in agreement before swooping down to capture his lips once again.

That following weekend finds the three of you in your usual positions, haphazardly laid out on Mattsun’s small couch watching some mindless comedy movie. But there’s something different in the air. You can’t quite place what’s wrong, but your boys are quieter, more on edge. You consider outright questioning them about it, but you internally shrug. They’d tell you when they’re ready to tell you. With that thought, you turn your attention back to the screen as you lay your head in Hanamaki’s lap and cross your legs in Matsukawa’s lap. You're jolted to attention as Hanamaki suddenly moves his hand that had been playing with your hair and turns off the TV. Confused, you sit up and let him rearrange you until you’re completely sitting in his lap. His cheeks are flushed red and worriedly you place your hand on his forehead, checking his temperature, but you tilt your head, puzzled, when he laughs and removes your head, gently bringing it to his mouth before affectionately kissing the sensitive inner side of your palm.

“Mattsun and I have been talking recently and friendship isn’t enough for us anymore. We’re tired of pretending we’re not in love with you. Will you be our girlfriend?”

In love with you? Girlfriend? Your mind spins as it tries to wrap itself around the weight of those words. Sure, you can’t deny the two boys are incredibly attractive and you’ve had your fair share of indecent thoughts of both of them. But they wanted to date you? The two boys who are always in the back of your mind, who are always there by your side. They both want to date you? Self-doubt soars within you and you don’t notice Matsukawa nearing the both of you on the couch until large hands gently turn your head in his direction and his lips tenderly meet yours. Your body stiffens in surprise before melting into the touch. Matsukawa’s kiss is just like him. Quiet, but intense. There’s nothing flashy about it and yet the solidity of it and soft dominance behind it is enough to take your breath away. Matsukawa is the first to pull back and you blush as the hint of a smile twitches at his lips as he stares down at you. “So is that a yes?”

You rapidly nod as your heart flutters and a huge grin overtakes your face, but you yelp when excited arms fling themselves around you and you’re dragged until your cheek is squished against Hanamaki’s face. Giggling, you playfully push against Hanamaki’s chest as you try to get some room to breathe, but as soon as his hold loosens he’s quick to hungrily catch your lips and you close your eyes as you take in a kiss entirely different from Matsukawa’s kiss. You feel warm as Hanamaki sweetly kisses you. It’s the same comforting warmth you feel after eating the most satisfying bowl of ramen with a loved one on a frigid winter night. You can almost feel yourself dissolving into a puddle of happiness and content as Hanamaki continues until a loud exaggerated cough interrupts you. You stifle a laugh as you look over at a disgruntled Matsukawa, but Hanamaki and you are both quick to pull the taller boy in. As the three of you rearrange limbs and situate yourself into a messy cuddle pile on the couch, you all feel complete for the first time in your lives.

#hanamaki x reader #matsukawa x reader #hanamaki takahiro #hanamaki #matsukawa #matsukawa issei #haikyuu fic #haikyuu #haikyuu writing #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years ago

Text

Day 4: Anxceit

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 4: There is a trail of color only you can see that marks out where your soulmate has been.

Content warning: parental death from heart attack (none of the sides), homophobia, religious themes regarding said homophobia, concert, minor sensory overload (Virgil is technically autistic but it’s not explicit).

Word count: 3.3k

The last thing Janus Natter had ever wanted to do was return to his hometown.

It only held bad memories that stemmed from living in a small town, of homophobia and school bullies and dirty looks from neighbours. Granted, he’d never actually been kicked out of his home after coming out, but word spread like a wildfire and the people in his neighborhood weren’t the most open minded. His mom didn’t talk to him; she blamed herself, and there were all too many nights he walked past her room and heard her praying and crying for the repentance of her baby boy.

So the moment he turned eighteen, he was out of there. Waved goodbye to the woman who stiffened every time he tried to hug her and moved halfway across the country, starting a new life for himself in a rundown apartment and a minimum wage intern job and not regretting it for a second. Everything seemed better for a while. A promotion followed a couple years after, and his apartment was upgraded to one that actually had a separate kitchen and dining room so he wasn’t eating on the counter anymore. Until he got a call from one of his aunts at three am, four days after Christmas.

Obviously, he cried when his mom died. He broke down as soon as he hung up the phone, sitting on the edge of his bed and letting the news slowly integrate into his system. Sure, they hadn’t had the best relationship, but she’d been a great mom up until he admitted the truth that drove a wedge between them. And he’d never really blamed her, knowing his own internal homophobia would only be heightened in her. But it still hurt that she hadn’t reached out whatsoever when she was put into the hospital after the first heart attack. Maybe he would have been there when the second one hit and been able to save her. Or at least say goodbye.

The funeral was rough. None of his family bothered to talk to him, and the one little cousin that ran up to give him a hug was swiftly pulled away. Not like he was expecting much else, but c’mon. It’s not infectious. At least no one commented on him crying again.

He was on the first flight back out, and after a couple days off work to recenter himself, things seemed to back to normal. It wasn’t as if any part of his daily routine was disturbed. He wasn’t missing any motherly catch up calls, no little packages, no life advice, that he’d never gotten before, so it was almost easy to pretend that nothing had changed. Until he got another call.

This time it was his uncle, calling in the middle of his work day, to tell him that he needed to come back home and clear out his mom’s house. He was reluctant at first. Why couldn’t someone else do it? What was so important that he had to do it? But the family seemed determined to distance themselves from the house as much as possible, and when his uncle insisted that “we’re all still in mourning, Janus,” as if to imply he wasn’t upset at the death of his own mother, he hung up the phone with a curt agreement to come back as soon as possible. He later got a text that stated the house was going to be put on the market in the coming week, so he needed to get there soon.

That’s what led to him exiting a cab three days later in front of his childhood home, suitcase in hand, with a disgruntled expression. The house was much less threatening than it had always seemed when he lived there, unassuming and indistinguishable from the other houses on the block, but the memories of lonely nights of crying himself to sleep and craving a hug from his mother were at the forefront of his mind. You’re never going to get another hug from her. He quickly snapped out of it before the tears could rise, thanking the cab driver and walking up to the front door.

His mother had taken his key when he left, claiming it was to give to a neighbour to water her flowers when she went on a cruise or something equally far fetched, but Janus figured she just wouldn’t want to be surprised by him visiting. This was, afterall, the first time she’d been free from his disappointing presence in years. Luckily, they’d always kept a spare under the plant by the door, now wilted and crusty and dropping leaves when he leaned it over, hand slapping the concrete underneath.

Nothing.

He picked it up off the ground entirely, sweeping the ground directly under it and then scanning the surrounding area with growing irritation. Had someone taken it after the funeral? How the hell did they expect him to get into the house? Oh yeah, come clean the house but we’re gonna take the key! Fuckers.

A loud crash from behind the door startled him enough to drop the plant, the ceramic pot smashing on the stairs. Whoops. Another sound from inside, something that sounded like a chair scraping on the tiled kitchen floor, and Janus realized with mounting horror that the front door was open a crack. His family had all claimed to not be able to even come near the place, so… Fantastic. Someone had broken into a death house and he was going to have to deal with it.

The wise choice would have been to call the police.

So Janus pushed the door open and walked in, ignoring the sudden flurry of memories in favor of following the source of the noise.

“Hello?” Yeah, smart, Janus, that always works in the horror movies!

Another scrape in the steadily approaching kitchen, accompanied by muffled swearing. As an almost last thought, Janus picked up the first small object he could feel on the entry table, acknowledging its heft and hoping it would be a suitable weapon without taking his eyes from the hall. Here goes nothing.

Then, in a move to top all stupidity, he turned into the room in a whirl, hoisting the weapon above his head, ready to beat down on whoever was rifling through his dead mother’s drawers. Only to freeze.

“Remus?”

“Janus, what the fuck!” The statement was said with a surprising amount of glee. Remus was the only person he knew who could turn swears into something joyful.

Janus turned his gaze to the floor and the chair Remus was standing on, surrounded by a pile of glass shards. It looked to be the remnants of the entire glass collection, if the amount was anything to go by. Remus gave another shuffle of his chair, the loud shriek sounding again, as he tried to scooch closer without stepping on the shards in his bare feet.

“Why are you holding a banana?”

It took him a solid second to process Remus’ question before he looked down at his own hand, his fingers curled around the metal banana from the decorative fruit bowl in the entry.

“No reason. Why are you in my house, destroying my dinnerware?”

“Help me not step in glass and I’ll tell you.”

Finding a broom was easy; it was still in the same place it always had been before he left. Cleaning the glass took longer, what with Remus’ flurry of questions and Janus’ focus between answering him, sweeping, and not whacking Remus on the head with the broom handle. Apparently it didn’t take long for him to become annoying again.

Still, the grinning man had been the one and only reason he’d had trouble saying goodbye to the town, the only person who still gladly befriended him after coming out. He hated to admit how much he’d missed him.

When the floor was clear, Remus hesitantly stepped down off the chair, wiggling his toes on the ground.

“Why did you take your shoes off when you came in? It’s not like anyone’s gonna be pissed if you track mud in anymore.”

“I didn’t wear any.”

“Of course you didn’t.”

Remus shared a softer look with him, the manic smile drooping, “Hey, I’m sorry about your mom. That’s rough.”

“Yeah,” Was Janus’ incredibly eloquent response. He shook his head, and Remus accepted the subject change with no questions, “So why are you here?”

“Well, I heard you were coming to clear the place out eventually, so I thought I’d get here early and start. Help you out.”

“And…”

“... And snoop around a little bit.”

“There it is.”

“Not like, bad stuff! Just… I don’t know. Deep, dark, family secrets.”

Janus sighed, taking in the kitchen for the first time since entering. “The biggest secret this family tries to hide is me.”

“Dark.”

“Mmhm.” He gasped as two arms suddenly wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him into the most physical contact he’d had in… years.

“Welcome back, Natter.”

“Yeah, well,” He cleared his throat of voice cracks before continuing, “I only got two days off work. So I’m not staying long. I somehow need to completely clear this place out in 48 hours,” He ran a hand down his face, pulling away from the hug reluctantly, “You wouldn’t actually be interested in helping, would you?”

It was more of a statement than a question, but Remus ignored it completely. “You’re only here two days? Inconceivable!”

“You’ve been watching Princess Bride again.”

“We gotta hang out!” The pleading expression on Remus’ face was almost enough to sell him on the idea.

“Weren’t you listening? I literally don’t have the time.”

“I’m going to a concert tonight in Brookton. Come with me!” Remus continued as if he hadn’t spoken, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Just one night, Jan. Pleeeease? I’ll even come here and help you the rest of the time.”

With an affectionate snort, he shook his head, “As fun as that sounds, I’m broke.”

“I can get you in.”

“You’re not paying for me.”

“Who said anything about paying?”

Janus raised an eyebrow, though it was more like how a parent would scold a child than surprise. They’d always gotten into trouble together as kids, and this was just… a level up, in a way. Not that he condoned it.

“I know one of the security guards. He’s one of my hookups, and he happens to owe me a favor or two.”

Wait. “You’re gay?”

“Shit, I didn’t tell you?!” Remus shrieked, grabbing Janus’ hand and dragging him to the front door, key waving in his face, “I’ll tell you all about it on the way. C’mon, it’s an hour drive.”

Well, looks like he didn’t have a say in it. And he’d be lying if he claimed he hadn’t missed hanging out with his old best friend… or just a friend at all, really.

“Fine, but you’re stopping by your place to grab shoes!”

-----------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t a small venue by any means. It wasn’t Beyonce big, but enough to know that if he lost track of Remus, he’d be fucked. In his rush out the door so soon after a morning of traveling, he’d forgotten his charger and his phone was conveniently dead. Janus kept a careful eye on Remus, following the bob of his neon green and black jacket through the crowd and only distantly wondering what band they were actually about to see. The gremlin kept pushing through, ignoring the annoyed shouts of people he shoved, leaving Janus to hastily apologize each time as he followed in his wake.

When Remus slowed just for a moment, stretching on his tiptoes to find a good spot over the sea of heads, Janus lunged forward and grabbed his sleeve. The taller man raised an eyebrow.

“As fun as it would be to get lost, I’m not in the mood.”

“Ah,” Remus’ eyes settled on a spot near the stage, one that Janus couldn’t see being a head shorter than him, “Good timing. Hang on tight.”

And hang on he did, because Remus fully embodied the physicality of a snow plow and plunged back into the crowd with new ferocity. Janus just closed his eyes and blindly let himself be led, letting the bubbling breathiness of a laugh escape his mouth. It had been too long since he’d just been able to have fun like this, without the threat of work and bills in his peripheral. The chatter was deafening in the best way possible, drowning out his worried thoughts, and the flashing lights that were still visible through his closed eyelids was invigorating. The promise for more elated him.

When Remus finally stopped, Janus didn’t get the memo on time and ran into his back full force. He grunted and opened his eyes, focused on his throbbing nose, before realizing how close to the stage they really were. The taller man was staring down at him, grinning maniacally, seemingly impressed with their placement as well.

Then a flash to the side caught his attention, and his throat went dry.

“Remus, look me in the eye and tell me you see that.”

His eyebrows scrunched in confusion before he followed Janus’ line of sight, seeing nothing but the dense crowd. “See what?”

“The light, the light trail…” Janus inhaled sharply through his nose, grip on the other’s sleeve tightening, “It’s my soulmate. He’s here somewhere.”

“Your soulmate? Seriously?”

“Yeah, I…”

“Well, fuck! You’re welcome, eh, Natter? I told you you should have come!” He gave Janus’ arm a light punch, smile widening. “Go find him!”

Janus seemed hesitant, eyes flickering between Remus and the deep purple light trail, weaving between the people and heading towards the back of the venue. “How will I find you again after?”

“That’s a problem for future you. Go, you idiot!”

“Okay, okay! I’m going! Just don’t leave without me!”

He was off before he could hear Remus’ answer, ducking under raised arms and trying his hardest to follow the quickly dissolving trail. Now that he had his eye on it, it had decided that it was time to disappear, and he was quickly losing sight of it.

No, scratch that, it was definitely getting brighter now. And more concrete around the edges, instead of fading out. Was he close? He weaved past another small group of people, eyes following the purple line until-

There.

Holy shit.

He was stunning, that was the first thing Janus noticed. The purple trail stopped at him, covering him with a faint lilac aura before fading completely, content with it’s work. At first he thought the slight tint to the other’s hair was left over from the soulmark, before the lights switched and he realized, no, his hair was dyed purple. The most eye catching thing, though, besides his makeup, was the bulky pair of… were those headphones on his ears? At a concert? Granted, it hadn’t started yet, but still.

Apparently he was standing in one place for too long amongst the constantly moving hoard of people, and his stillness got the attention of the boy in front of him. He gasped sharply when they made eye contact, shocked from what Janus assumed to be the soulmark that probably surrounded him. And then he started hyperventilating. Bad.

“Shit! Okay, hey, calm down, okay? It’s fine-”

He was cut off by a loud riff of an electric guitar, almost immediately drowned out by the screaming fans that surged forward like a tidal wave. The boy in front of him curled in on himself, hands pressing into the headphones around his ears in an attempt to drown out the noise. Despite his more cautionary side, Janus reached forward and took his arm, guiding him gently towards the door.

“Let’s go outside and talk, alright?”

Maybe following a stranger outside alone wasn’t the smartest idea but… Virgil had seen the soul mark, a gentle yellow glow around this man that quickly dissipated, leaving behind a man sharing an equally shocked look on his face. So that had to mean he wasn’t totally bad, right? Either he was his soulmate or some kind of guardian angel, and neither of those were necessarily bad options.

As soon as they stepped outside the main arena, it was as if the tight band around Virgil’s chest loosened. Not gone completely, but enough that he could catch his breath. He reached up and pulled his ear defenders off his head, relieved that the quiet was enough that he didn’t need them anymore. They were definitely a life saver, but sometimes the way they muffled noise was indescribably uncomfortable as well.

The man noticed his immediate relief, letting go of his guiding arm and slowing his pace so Virgil could walk beside him.

“I’m Janus.”

“Virgil.”

In a blur, they ended up outside the venue, sitting on the curb directly outside the main doors. Virgil was fiddling with his ear muffs, eyes trained on the inky darkness surrounding them. Besides the dull resounding of the bass echoing from inside and steady stream of traffic just out of their view, it was reasonably quiet.

“So, you live in Brookton?” Janus finally broke the comfortable silence, leaning back on his hands.

“Yeah. Not for long, though.”

“Oh?”

“Planning to get out soon. Don’t know where, don’t know how. But I’m not much of a ‘small town’ guy.”

“Brookton counts as a small town?”

Virgil hummed, finally placing the head gear down beside him and closing his eyes, breathing in the smell of fast food from the variety of food trucks around the area. It was a strange cacophony of oil and salt, oddly enticing even if just the scent was enough for his skin to break out.

“What about you? From around here?”

“Sort of?” He explained his story in as few words as possible, flying over his mom’s general unacceptance and her death, and the fact that he had to clean out her house in two days. “Less than that now, I guess. One and a half. It’s gonna be hell.” His head fell into his hands, fingers rubbing at the temples as if to soothe the headache he was expecting.

Virgil was a good listener, nodding along to the right parts and avoiding those stupid sympathetic looks he was so tired of. It was a nice relief to actually feel listened to, not pitied.

“My parents are kind of similar. It doesn’t feel like I have much to complain about, though, because… I mean, they didn’t kick me out. Don’t openly hate on me. But it still sucks. They don’t even acknowledge me half the time.”

“Exactly! And then you see people who have it worse, and it makes you feel like a piece of shit for feeling upset!”

“Good match, universe.” Virgil flopped onto his back, purple hair splayed out on the concrete. “It’s the subtle homophobia for me.”

“Ah, you’re a ‘meme person’.”

“Sucks for you, you’re stuck with me now.”

“I’ll manage,” Janus joined him on the ground, suddenly disgusted that he was still in the same outfit that he’d flown in today. He hated the smell of plane, and he must reek of it. But Virgil didn’t seem to mind his general disheveled appearance as he made an abstract comment about the moon being full today, and how that generally meant bad things. Janus made the mistake of asking him what he meant, which turned into a full blown lecture on mythology and cryptids, one that Virgil didn’t have the capability to control. It made him smile though, seeing the emo so utterly delighted to explain it, and he realized with a start that he was going to get to enjoy this man for the rest of his life. Two people who could talk, matched with a person who loved to listen equally as much. Virgil had been right. Good match, universe.

#virgil definitely comes over and helps him clean the house the next day #but i wanted to leave it here #lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #soulmate september #soulmateseptember #ts soulmate au #janus sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #anxceit #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction

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nsheetee · 4 years ago

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pairing: prince!yangyang x princess!reader genre: fluff, angst, medieval au (but not really), royalty au word count: 4.4k details: female reader, some cursing, other nct/wayv members as characters (jeno is kind of a douche), duel scene (mentions of blood/weapons), inclusivity notice; to the best of my awareness, I wrote this without mention of reader’s height, weight or skin/hair color. summary: yangyang is not pleased about being forced to marry you, the princess from the next kingdom over who is widely unliked. yangyang never expected to fall in love at first sight, and never expected to fight to the death for you, either.

the kingdom of wheyshen needs wheat

they always have, ever since the time that the kingdom boundaries were drawn between wheyshen and encity

not just wheat, but metal and fabrics as well, which were made in high quality by the people of encity as time went on and the separation between the two kingdoms widened

for several decades, wheyshen traded with the lee kingdom from far away

it became hard to transport goods, especially during winter and when the rogues in the forests would interfere with the shipping

so, one of the first things that kun did when his father handed him the king’s position in the kingdom was to strike up a deal with the neighboring kingdom for the highly necessary products

due to the complicated past of the two kingdoms, and because kun was willing to do anything to make the lives of his people easier, the deal was struck on one condition

the prince of wheyshen would have to marry the princess of encity

and kun knew he was about to get an earful from his little brother when he told him the news

“what?!” yangyang almost threw his chair back as he stood up, “who gave you the permission to marry me off to some stranger??”

“the divine right to rule directly from the gods,” kun states monotonously, “and dad”

“I don’t care about the gods, they can go pull themselves out of their own asses. I'm not getting married.”

“you are. you don’t have to do it, like, tomorrow but you will get married to their princess.” kun explains

he moves closer to yangyang’s desk where he’s currently standing, tearing off grapes from the bowl of fruits on the desk and starts popping them into his mouth

“I heard their princess is a witch.” yangyang mumbles through his hand that’s supporting his cheek

kun gives him a blank stare, mouth filled with grapes, “she’s not a witch.”

“how do you know? have you ever met her?”

“no,” kun stops eating, “but if she is, wouldn’t you be the person to think it’s cool to have a witch princess as a wife? she could, like, make potions for you and stuff.”

“that’s not the point.” yangyang whines, dropping back down into his seat, “she’s not even liked by her own kingdom because of all the rumors around her. people haven’t seen her since she was a baby.” yangyang whispers the last part

“you sure do know a lot about your future wife already.” kun laughs

“the prince’s club talks about her a lot.”

the prince’s club is a group of all the prince’s in the area, not minding any kingdom boundaries or past histories

kun was once a part of the club, he knows what goes on during their meetings and what is talked about during the club’s horse rides

he’s 99.9% sure everyone is just over exaggerating

“well, you’ll be the first person to see her and find out for yourself. their whole family is coming over to sign the final contract in a few days.” kun puts his foot down on the matter

“I hate you.” yangyang says in a cutesy and high-pitched manner

“I hate you, too, demon child.” kun replies back as he walks out of yangyang’s study, “and don’t think even about running away or I'll chain you to your bed for the next few nights.”

“kun.... don’t say it like that.”

the few days between kun’s conversation with yangyang and the arrival of your family goes by quick, and pretty soon, yangyang is standing outside of the front doors of the wheyshen castle waiting for you

his family aren’t the only ones out here

there are servants, noble men and women, and knights who have all gathered this morning to catch the first glimpse of you

your carriages are like a parade through the front yard of the castle, and finally they all stop and the driver of one carriage opens the door

first steps out the king, your dad, after that the queen, and after that their oldest son, who is next in line for the throne

yangyang remembers his name is doyoung; he has never met him personally, but he heard that there is a very big stick up his ass

yangyang wonders if you’re like your older brother

everyone holds their breath when another hand pops out of the carriage, covered in a glove and grasped by your brother’s grip

he helps you step out, and the whole lawn of people greeting you gasp in wonder as everyone sees you for the very first time

you are the definition of a princess

the aura around you, how you hold yourself and how you hold a strong gaze with the people around you shakes everyone with curiosity and adoration

yangyang doesn’t even notice what you’re wearing or the tiara on your head, he can only see the gaze you send him as your feet delicately touch the ground

murmurs rise out of the crowd but quickly end when your family moves closer to yangyang’s, people dropping down to their knees to bow at royalty

your father politely greets kun, exchanging some words of congratulations to kun’s new position as king

there’s some more greetings exchanged between queens and yangyang’s father as he sits in a chair, too frail to stand up, but yangyang is only looking at you

warmth seeps into his chest and down to his stomach, like a flood of feelings he has never felt before

the flood covers his heart and makes it beat faster

it’s a scary feeling, but so exhilarating and addicting, as if yangyang is riding his prized race horse as fast as he can go through the fields behind the castle

the chatter between your families dies down and the attention suddenly turns to you two, making yangyang even more nervous

if you’re feeling any emotion similar to the ones that he’s feeling, you’re hiding it pretty well

yangyang feels kun lightly push on his shoulder and it effectively snaps him out of his reverie

“I'm pleased to meet you.” yangyang can barely get the words out of his mouth, feeling like peanut butter is stuck to his tongue

he reaches forward and gently takes your gloved hand in his, kissing the top of your knuckles, looking up at you afterwards

“it’s a pleasure to meet you, too.” with your angelic voice and your soft smile towards him, yangyang feels like he just got KO-ed

his head is fuzzy and he’s sure he looks like a fool with his jaw slacked and gapping at you

however, both families start to move inside before yangyang can really process his embarrassment

people on the lawn start to scatter, still trying to get one good look at you as you walk side by side with yangyang into the castle

he almost jumps out of his skin when you talk to him, not expecting to hear your voice so close to him

“I heard you like horseback riding?” you ask, and yangyang can feel himself heat up

mentally, he’s beating himself up for reacting like this to a girl

he’s been around PLENTY of girls, but something about you is so highly and elevated that yangyang can’t help but fall into your palm and cozily stay there

“y-yeah. I do.” he answers simply, but the words felt like they took hours to think of and leave his mouth

“I do, too! we should go riding tomorrow after brunch.” you propose

“how about we go riding for brunch? we could have a picnic.” yangyang suddenly remembers a spot in the mountains where the sun isn’t blinding and the breeze is cool during this time of year

and then he realizes he just asked you to brunch and made plans with you as if you didn’t just meet 5 minutes ago

he heats up again, suddenly remembering who you are and who he is, and questioning how in the hell you can have him in a vegetative state in one minute and absolutely head over heels for you in the next

“sounds like a date!” you send him that smile of yours once again

yangyang trips over his shoes, sliding along the castle’s tile floor before quickly picking himself up again and walking forward as if nothing happened

(you try not to notice his fall, biting back a laugh)

yangyang can barely sleep that night, and when he does fall asleep, the moon is already lowering in the night sky

maybe that’s why yangyang is almost late to your brunch date

he’s running out of his room, pulling on his riding boots and practically launching himself around every corner of the castle

he runs into the kitchen and thanks the cooks who hand him a picnic basket (he’s moving too fast to see them roll their eyes at him)

sliding into the barn, yangyang breathes a sigh of relief when he doesn't see you waiting for him, taking a second to catch his breath

a second is all he gets before you open the barn door, looking around the place and then at him

“oh, you’re already here. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.” the apologetic tone you use makes yangyang shake his head

“no, no. believe me when I say I just got here.”

after preparing your horses, you follow yangyang out of the barn and through the backyard of the castle until you’re no longer on the property

you ride through a small forest, over some fields, and then up one big hill before stopping and tying your horses to a nearby tree

laying down a blanket and the food yangyang picked up earlier, you begin eating brunch

and it hits both of you at the same time

you’re alone

in the middle of nowhere

together

yangyang, no matter how awkward the air around you begins to feel, can’t help but think that you really are so, so beautiful

these types of thoughts are new to him

maybe it’s because he knows he has to marry you one day, and his brain is tricking him into making this easier?

yangyang doesn’t have time to think further when he realizes he has been looking at you and you caught him in the act

“oh, sorry,” he panics, “there’s a bug on you.” he swats the imaginary bug off of your shoulder, mentally applauding himself for his quick thinking

that is, until his cuff catches on your sleeve and he’s left leaning over the food, tugging his wrist while trying not to rip your clothing

he begins to laugh nervously, eyes switching from looking at you to your sleeve before your hand covers his own

he stops moving, he stops all laughing, he doesn’t even think he breathes when you carefully pull his cuff off of your sleeve and let go of his hand gently, letting him fall back onto his side of the blanket

“I-I’m sorry, I just, I—” yangyang sighs at his own stuttering

he realizes he doesn’t feel like himself

why is he trying to shape himself into something he’s not when he’s around you

he decides that stops now

“honestly, I'm not sure how to act around you.” yangyang begins, watching how your face turns to look at him, “you’re my fiancé, but I don’t know you at all. I don’t even want to marry you.”

yangyang says the last sentence timidly, but bewilderment replaces the timidness when you sigh in relief

“that’s good because I don’t either.”

“wait, really?” yangyang perks up

“yes, really. I’ve lived my whole life without a fiancé, and one day one just falls into my lap. that’s how deals work with kingdoms, and that’s how I've been thinking about you for the past few days, just as a deal my dad is making with your brother. no offense, really, you seem like an awesome guy, but I'm just not interested in a relationship right now.”

you add on that last bit as a second thought, but yangyang caught the gist

somehow, your words make him relax tenfold and he doesn’t feel like someone else is talking and moving for him

however, there is that one part of him that aches when you call him “just a deal”

yangyang decides to deal with it later, taking things one step at a time for now

“my brother threw this onto my lap, too. it makes me less lonely knowing that I'm not the only one who’s feeling this way.”

“is your brother an uptight micro-manager with a stick up his ass?”

“yes... is yours?”

“yes!”

the more yangyang talked with you, the more he realized how similar you two are

you both loved horseback riding and pranking your older brothers

you both loved painting and eating the left over pastries that the kitchen is about to throw away

yangyang found out that you’ve been studying ever since you were little and that you wanted to be well-versed in as many subjects that you can be

and you didn’t judge yangyang when he honestly told you that he has no idea what he wants for his future

and he appreciates you for that

soon, the sun rises over the top of the sky and starts to sink back down towards the horizon, and sadly your “brunch” ends

“I'm glad we got to know each other better.” yangyang said as he rolled up the blanket you were sitting on

“me too. I'm glad I'm not being forced to marry someone who’s snobbish or boring”

yangyang laughs at the weird compliment, but that pang in his chest returns

forced...

is it bad that yangyang doesn’t feel like he’s being forced anymore?

is it bad that yangyang could.... willingly marry you?

he doesn’t feel trapped or like he would involuntarily be doing something

.... but do you still feel that way?

did the day you spend with yangyang not change your mind about your relationship like it did with his?

yangyang thinks about that the entire ride back to the castle, with secret side eyes to you and a heart that has unexpectedly sunk

the next morning, the two royal families gather for the signing of the contract

kun and your father are sitting at the table in one of the rooms in the castle, the two pieces of paper in front of them as they discuss the last terms and conditions

you’re standing next to yangyang and your mothers are standing only a few feet away

your brother is standing on the other side of yangyang; everyone waits patiently and silently as the kings do business

yangyang’s thoughts are still scrambled from the previous day, and he stares at the floor with his eyebrows screwed together

“are you okay?” you whisper from next to him, causing yangyang to jump slightly

“yeah, just tired.” he lies, and it makes you tilt your head at him

just as it looks like the kings have come to a final decision and they grasp their quill pens to sign the contracts in front of them, the doors to the room burst open, kun’s right hand man running into the room

“your highness, it’s the lee kingdom, they’re here.”

everyone in the room has just enough time to look at each other in perplexity before a group of your guards and the third royal family, the lees, walk into the room

king lee taeyong leads the way, along with his son, lee jeno

at the intrusion, yangyang feels you grab onto the back of his jacket, making him look at you to see uncomfortableness and slight fear in your eyes

“what’s this?” kun stands up from his chair, looking from king lee to his own right hand man to your father

“you are not legally allowed to sign that contract.” king lee states, producing a piece of paper and setting it on the table before your father

“according to this contract, your daughter cannot marry anyone other than my son, jeno.”

your father picks up the contract and reads it over, scoffing afterward

“this contract was created by our great-grandfathers.”

“it still applies to today. my son and your daughter were destined to marry each other before they were even born.”

while the three kings argue about the validity of such an old contract, yangyang feels you tug on the back of his jacket

he turns around to see the look of fear and uneasiness still on your face

“please, do something.” you're plea stuns yangyang, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to process your request

“like what?” he finally gets out

yangyang is just a prince, practically a nobody in this room when there are three kings and two soon-to-be kings here as well

“I can’t marry him.” you step closer to yangyang, you're dress pressing against his legs and your grip on his jacket tightening, “please, I just can’t.”

yangyang only realizes now that your fear is not from the situation currently happening in the room, but rather from the prince that stands by the entrance

lee jeno

tall and muscular and smart

maybe it would be better for you to marry jeno

yangyang feels a burning at the bottom of his stomach at his next thought, but it’s no doubt that it’s true:

you fit as jeno’s wife better than you fit as yangyang’s

you’ll be a queen one day if you marry jeno, but with yangyang you’ll only stay a princess

“why not? he’s better than I ever could be.” your eyebrows furrow for just a moment at yangyang’s words but you shake your head furiously

“he’s been trying to get me to marry him for years. I don’t care about what he has to offer, I don’t want to marry anyone.”

yangyang has to take a moment to feel pity for you

you’re being pressured into marriage from all sides when you don’t even want anything to do with matrimony

yangyang remembers what you told him the day before, that you’re glad you’re being forced to marry someone like him

although the words don’t sit well with him, he’s taking them and running with the idea that you’d rather be with him than with jeno

“we need to break up this contract, it’s no longer relevant with my kingdoms current needs.” yangyang hears your father declare as he tunes back into the conversation

“we can’t just break a several decade old contract because you don’t like it anymore. we’ll have to do it properly; either a trade, a rewrite, or a duel.” king lee states

“I'll duel.” yangyang speaks up without a second thought and jaws drop as everyone turns to look at him, “I’ll duel lee jeno.”

“huh?” jeno glances at his dad to try and figure out how he just got himself into a duel

“yangyang.” kun gives a deadly glare to his younger sibling, a que to sit down and shut up, but as always, yangyang never listens

“If I win, the old contract is destroyed, if jeno wins, it stays.”

no one speaks, only turning to look at jeno for his acceptance of the deal

when he nods, the three kings disperse and kun orders the guards to get the courtyard ready for tomorrow’s duel

if yangyang thought his sleep a few nights before was bad, that night’s sleep was even worse

yangyang and jeno have been in the prince’s club for the same amount of time and have known each other for years

yangyang knows how good jeno is at dueling

the cause of his tossing and turning was not for the fear of getting hurt or nerves of not breaking the contract

it was mostly about how stupid he was to suggest to duel one of the most skilled princes in the area

the next day, yangyang is in his tent, an assistant helping him put on his protective gear when you walk in

yangyang dismisses the assistant and turns back around to put on his gear himself

you take small steps to him, clearing your throat

“thank you for doing this. you have no idea how much I appreciate it.” yangyang is reminded of the core reason for his actions:

you

and because he still gets that warm feeling whenever he’s around you and thinks of you, he pushes his nerves aside and turns to look at you

“will you help me put this on?”

you nod and step closer, helping yangyang secure one of his forearm guards

“you’ll be okay... right?” you ask, your voice is full of jitters and you glance up at him for a second

“uh... well... jeno is pretty good at dueling and I..... have only done it three times before—”

“what?!” you yell, making yangyang jump

he’s never heard your voice at that volume before, and now that he takes a good look at you, you seem less composed than you usually do

“how can you agree to a duel with jeno when you aren’t experienced?”

“I am experienced... I have three fights under my belt.”

“did you win any of them?”

“... I won experience...”

his answer makes you sigh, and yangyang tilts his head

“are you worried?”

“yes.” yangyang’s heart does a backflip in his chest, almost jumping out of his throat in the process, but he quickly reminds himself about what the reason for your worry could be

“I-I mean... you don’t have to. I'll make sure one way or another that you won’t have to marry jeno.”

“that’s not what I'm worrying about right now... I don’t want you to get hurt.” yangyang feels like he’s about to pass out

you’re worried.... about him

he feels a rush of adrenaline fill him from head to toe

he thinks he might be able to do anything for you right at this moment

“I kind of made you do this, I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“hey,” yangyang gently takes your hand in his, stopping you from fiddling with his forearm guard, “whatever happens is not your fault, I made the choice to do this, so it’s my responsibility all the way to the end.”

you and yangyang share a moment of silence; he thinks that was probably the most grown up thing he has ever said

if yangyang thought his heart was done jumping for joy, the feeling is not yet over

you reach into your dress pocket and pull out a handkerchief

it’s plain white, but your initials are stitched into the corner in purple thread

you tuck the piece of fabric between yangyang’s forearm guard and his sleeve, tying it around his wrist so that it doesn’t move

“you have my luck. please, yangyang, be safe.” and with that, you walk out of the tent

he feels like a new man when he walks out to the courtyard, sword in one hand and helmet in the other

he’s almost blinded by the adrenaline and thoughts of you from just a few minutes ago

he feels like he actually has a chance of winning this duel

however, once his helmet is on and the duel starts, yangyang faces reality

no matter how much adrenaline and hope he has, he still sucks at using a sword

his arm seems to weight a lot more than just a few minutes ago and jeno seems to be moving a lot faster than yangyang has ever seen him move before

the sound of metal clashing against metal and grunts leaving yangyang’s mouth fill the area, what seems like everyone from the castle watching on to see who’ll win the fight

yangyang thinks he’s about to lose until jeno retreats, letting yangyang take the offense and move closer

soon, yangyang has the upper hand and, by some miracle, jeno’s sword flies out of his hand, landing on the grass several feet away with jeno surrendering to yangyang

cheers and claps break out at the ending of the duel, but yangyang can’t hear anything, his shock too great to process what just happened

he drops his own sword, instead shaking his hand with jeno’s

jeno accepts the gesture, pulling yangyang closer by his hand and leaning into his ear

“have fun marrying y/n.” he chuckles lowly, walking away from yangyang to join his father

yangyang’s rush from victory and accomplishment die down as he watches jeno’s back retreat

.... did he just throw the duel? so that he won’t have to marry you?

yangyang can’t believe that jeno would do something like that, but the smirk on his face as he sends yangyang one more look tells him that maybe yangyang’s guess could be right

yangyang’s attention pulls away from jeno to you, already making your way down to where yangyang is standing, feet almost running to get to him quicker

you meet him in the middle of the courtyard, slowing down as you reach him

not knowing how to show your worry and affection, you grab onto his forearms and turn him to you, looking him up and down

“you’re okay?” you ask, pleading with your eyes for him to tell the truth

“yeah, I'm fine.” yangyang laughs; you don’t let go of him yet

“good. I don’t want my future husband to be hurt by me before we’re even engaged.” you try to joke, but yangyang doesn’t find it funny

instead, his smile sobers up and he opens his mouth a few times, trying to get the words stuck in his throat out into the thick air between you two

yangyang didn’t want to deal with his feelings right now, but he’s not sure if he’ll get the courage to confront you again

“so, I know you don’t want a relationship and that you feel forced into marrying me right now... but maybe one day that can be different?”

you swallow and keep staring at yangyang in response

“maybe... we can go on some more horseback rides, or maybe we can paint together someday?” yangyang’s confidence starts to fade when you’re not saying anything in return, your face still void of emotion

“I don’t know... I think I can learn to be a good husband.” yangyang finally gets his thought out, gaze falling as he kicks the ground lightly, waiting for your response

“yeah... I think I can learn to love you, yangyang” your response makes yangyang lift his head, the dumb smile on his face matching yours

maybe it’s okay that yangyang only partially won this game

in the end he’s the real winner, whether he truly won the match or not, because he gets to marry you

#yangyang #yangyang fluff #yangyang x reader #wayv fluff #wayv x reader #yangyang angst #wayv angst #yangyang imagines #yangyang scenarios #yangyang fic #yangyang au #yangyang blurb #yangyang timestamp #wayv imagines #wayv scenarios #wayv fic #wayv au #wayv blurbs #wayv timestamp

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wkemeup · 5 years ago

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Take My Hand (Take My Whole Life, Too)

summary: Bucky waits at the end of the aisle for the love of his life (heavily inspired by that scene in Crazy Rich Asians) pairing: bucky x reader warnings: a ridiculous amount of fluff a/n: This was written for @mermaidxatxheart‘s 500 follower challenge! I had the song prompt of Falling in Love with You by Elvis Presley, though I was really drawing off the cover by Kina Grannis in the link in the summary. Congrats on 500(+) Jamie!! 🌸

Bucky’s hands were stuffed into his pockets, pulling at the seams of expensive threads as if the unraveling string could release a piece of tension in his chest, let him breathe a little easier, let his head feel a little less numb. Leather wingtips of his shoes were tight around his toes, the tie draped around his neck a little too snug, sweat beading at his temples. His breaths were heavy in his chest, thick like anvils on his lungs as he swayed from one foot to the other.

It smelled faintly of lavender and incense as he managed to take in a shallow breath; memories of Sunday mornings with his Ma and sister traveling into the city adorned in baggy suits and frilly dresses, a pout on his face through his teenage years. Stained glass windows to his left, marble statues to his right; colorful light filtered through the room and touched against the faces of stone, sun kissed, heaven sent.

His hands gripped to fists in his pockets and Bucky gazed out to the rows of old, wooden pews. It was filling up quickly with women dressed in beautiful gowns and men in black ties, talking quietly amongst themselves, stealing looks to the back of the room and then up to Bucky. Nervous excitement, joyful smiles he wasn’t used to be on the receiving end of.

“You alright there, man?” Steve asked to his left, nudging his shoulder teasingly. Bucky nodded quickly, maybe a little too quickly, because Steve started to chuckle under his breath. “There’s still time to run for it if you want? I can get the car started.”

“Not a chance,” Bucky replied without hesitation, his voice rough and raw like stone, unused all morning. He nodded to himself, pulling in a deep breath as he stared down at the double doors at the end of the aisle. “I’m marrying the love of my life today.”

“Yes, you are,” Steve nodded, smiling to himself as Bucky kept his gaze focused on the wooden doors. He patted Bucky gently on the shoulder. “Take in all in, buddy. You deserve it. After everything you’ve been through, to come out of all of it and find this? Love and happiness and all those things you never thought you’d see again? Who would’ve thought, huh?”

Certainly not Bucky.

But Steve nudged Bucky’s side because he believed from the very start, from the moment he’d introduced the two of you the day you moved into the tower nearly a year prior and he saw the slight part of Buckt’s lips, the rendered shock on his face as he stood frozen, staring at you as you extended your hand to him. Something had changed in him that day, like a spark igniting a flame, a drop to a desert, the cry in a first breath.

Your hand slipped into his, a shy smile on your face as you met his eye, and Bucky didn’t know what to say. His voice was sandpaper in his throat and Steve was the one who told you his name, though Bucky was almost certain you already knew. Your eyes only flashed to the reflective panels of his left arm once upon walking up to him and even then, it had been in admiration, never fear, never disgust.

Your name was honey on his tongue and he repeated it a few times after you left, as he held his hand close to his chest where you’d touched him, like velvet and silk, and he wondered how something so tender and kind could stand to touch the flesh of a monster.

You turned over your shoulder as Steve guided you around the floor, introducing you to the team, and your eyes kept returning to Bucky from the distance, even as you met Sam and Wanda, then Tony and Natasha.

He’d met your eye from across the room and for the first time in years, he felt the corner of his lips push to his cheeks; aching in their disuse, a little worn for wear, but it made you smile even wider, crinkling up by your eyes, chewing on the edge of your lip. It warmed like the heat of a gentle fire to his chest, a relief sweeping through the tension he carried. It was your smile that started to pull him from the darkest parts of himself.

He wasn’t quite sure how it happened, how you managed to start peeling away at the wall he kept built carefully around himself, fortified under brick and stone and standing so tall he no longer could see sunlight around him.

Brick by brick, they started to disappear with the smell of coffee filtering through the kitchen as the sun rose and he’d stumble out of his room after a night of restless sleep to find you waiting at the table with two cups of freshly brewed coffee, tapping your fingers against the wood anxiously, a bounce of your knee underneath. So sweetly nervous until the moment you saw him and everything in your body seemed to relax.

He lost a brick from the walls around him as he sat down beside you each morning, first under comfortable silence, until enough mornings passed and soon, the kitchen was filled with laughter before the sky had filtered to an even blue.

The bricks disappeared every time you laughed, every time you smiled at him from across the room when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, every time a flush would touch your skin as he’d catch you staring and you’d look away bashfully, only to return home to ocean blue and he’d smile back for you.

They disappeared as your hip pressed up close to his on the couch and you fell asleep against his shoulder on movie nights, a bowl of popcorn slipping from your fingers. They crumbled with every soft snore, every time you curled against him, finding comfort in the cool embrace of his left arm as he brushed the hairs from your eyes.

Brick by brick, you managed to dig through the cement under brittle nails and calloused hands, tearing away another piece of the protective guard he’d mounted in his decades under Hydra until suddenly, steady streams of light started to peak their way into the darkness, until the touch of it warmed his skin, stung a little in his eyes, until the shadows no longer had a home around him.

The first time you’d kissed him had been an accident.

Something so innocent, so familiar as you pulled back from the warm hold of his embrace under fuzzy blankets and movie marathons, and touched the sides of his face. Lost in the way he was watching you, caught up in the dim lighting of the kitchen, the haze of sleepiness, you’d kissed him.

Short and gone in an instant once you realized what you’d done and you raced off to your room with frantic apologies under your breath. He tried to go after you, tell you how badly he wanted you to kiss him again like that, but there wasn’t time. He had a mission in the morning and you’d boarded yourself up behind the walls of your room.

By the time he returned a week later, the line bordering between friendship and something more was all but shattered as he stumbled off the quinjet with a limp on his right side, a nasty scar over his forehead and an exhaustion dragging him under after four days of no contact, no reassurance, and complete radio silence.

You had raced into his arms in tears and threw yourself to his embrace, holding onto him like he was your only lifeline. He had stumbled back a bit at the impact of it, surprised, and you didn’t give him a chance to question it before your lips were on his.

The start of it all, the tailspin into the unknown.

It all happened so quickly after that. The nervous dates with pretty red dresses and disheveled ties, the hands intertwining as you walked together for hours through Brooklyn under starlit skies, the kisses outside your bedroom, the cozy embrace on the couches.

The ‘I love you’s. The falling between sheets, bare and desperate for one another. The question that scared him more than any mission ever could. The ‘yes’ that changed his life forever.

He fell in love with you faster than he knew how to catch himself.

It was a freefall through the heart of an open abyss. It was stepping off the ledge knowing there was nothing securing you to the surface. It was a leap of faith, an instinct of trust, a determination of love. When he fell for you, there was no fear, no panic. There was only absolute certainty.

He loved you. You loved him.

There was nothing else. No amount of time that could make his love for you more real, more acceptable to what others deemed appropriate for this level of commitment. He spent too much of his life not being able to make decisions for himself, too much of his life without the autonomy to say ‘no’ or ‘yes’, his freewill stripped from him like a piece of his soul.

So, this was his choice, every day. Every morning, every night, every hour. He chose you.

“Anyone check on Y/n yet?” Sam quipped up from beside Steve, tugging at the neck of his tie. “We sure she didn’t make a run for it?”

“Sam,” Steve warned, but Bucky started to laugh, feeling the tension slip away.

“I’m just saying,” Sam shrugged with that teasing grin of his, “I’m pretty sure we were all shocked she agreed to a lifetime with this nutjob. I wouldn’t blame the girl for jumping ship.”

“She’s coming,” Bucky replied evenly, a soft smile on his face as he kept his eyes on the back doors. “She’ll be here.”

There was no doubt, not a single trace of it running through his bloodstream. The tension faded from his shoulders and he realized with a quick look in Sam’s direction, that he’d done it on purpose, reminded Bucky exactly why he was standing where he was to begin with, reminded him of the unbreakable trust he had in you.

A moment of peace, of ease, and then—

The soft strumming of a guitar began to filter through the church, high up into the arches as a hush fell over the crowd. Bucky’s stomach fell, like at the highest peak of a free fall, and he straightened his back, tried to fix his already perfectly straightened tie, hands shaking just a little. The guests all turned to the doors as wooden archways slowly parted and Bucky exhaled a shaky breath.

“You’ve got this,” Steve whispered beside him. “Best day of your life, right?”

Bucky nodded, turning to find Steve smiling at him, Sam giving him a short thumbs up with that cheeky grin of his. His brothers, his family. He exhaled again, this time more even, like a weight of release on his chest, and turned to the parted doors.

A gentle voice carried over the hushed whispers of the crowd, light and breathy, heavenly, as Peter took his first step into the church.

Wise men say only fools rush in But I can't help falling in love with you

Awkward smile as he tried to make eye contact with every phone in the crowd, a slight flush of pink in his cheeks as he walked a little too quickly down the aisle. He wore a tie that matched the color of the flowers pinned to Bucky’s suit jacket and he paused for a moment by Tony and Pepper’s aisle as she begged him for a picture.

Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I can't help falling in love with you

Wanda stepped out into the open doors. Long, flowing brunette hair over her shoulders, braided in a crown from her face, she carried light pink roses and white dahlias in her hands. Dressed in a beautiful shade that reminded Bucky of cherry blossoms, she gave a soft glance to the crowd before she took her place beside Peter leading up to the alter.

Like a river flows surely to the sea Darling, so it goes some things are meant to be

Then, Natasha. Lethal and cunning, dressed in soft pinks and a subtle smile on plump lips, an enigma within herself. She looked up to the woman sitting on the edge of a stool at the corner of the room, the one singing the beautiful song that had Bucky’s heart stammering so fast in his chest, he wasn’t quite sure how he was still on his feet.

She began to make her way down the aisle, a subtle glance to Steve from the corner of her eye before she found her place beside Wanda, leaving him to cough back a blush rising on his cheeks.

Then, a silence came over the crowd, the music lingering up into the highest peaks of the church as Bucky held his breath. A soft echo of the guitar nestling into his chest and falling into a pristine silence, Bucky watched as the crowd stood from their pews, turning to the back door, his heart pounding like thunder, loud enough that even the furthest row could hear it.

You stepped out into the opening and everything just... stopped. Time dissolving around him, the gasps of the crowd numb to his ears, and you paused under elaborate archways, framing you like a portrait to be admired amongst masterpieces. Dressed in a gown that touched your skin, floated along your curves, your body, the way his hands had; with a carefulness, a tenderness, unlike he’d ever seen.

Then, you smiled at him; something soft, subtle, filled with every rush of emotion swimming in his own chest. Stunning. Magical. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life.

A calmness swept over him, the nervous stuttering of his heart falling back into a gentle rhythm, his breaths even and full in his lungs. This was where he was meant to be.

You took your first step into the aisle.

So take my hand

Tears welled in Bucky’s eyes, blurry as he tried to take in as much of this moment as he could. You chewed on the edge of rouge stained lips, disregarding the room full of people, of family and friends, as you kept your focus on Bucky in every step. He was the one you always ran to, his arms you sought out in a crowded room, his watchful smile to calm your nerves, and he was waiting for you. He was always there waiting for you.

Take my whole life, too

In every step, he saw the days he spent curled up on the couch beside you, the nights pressed against you under sweat damped sheets from the demons in his sleep. He saw the dates at the sub shop in Queens and the coffee joint in Brooklyn. He saw the trust he put in you, the instant devotion, the internal instinct to give every piece of himself to you. He saw the free fall.

He saw the bricks you dismantled from the walls around his heart, the way you so carefully nurtured the most vulnerable pieces of him to something stronger, something protected and adored until he believed it himself.

For I can't help falling in love with you

You were within reach now and he extended a hand to you. Your fingers slipped into his palm, warm and soft and everything that every grounded him to this earth by a tether, and he guided you up the stairs to the alter beside him.

He let out a heavy breath, smiling through the tears in his eyes as he chuckled quietly, still unable to process how quickly you’d fallen into his life, how easily you turned him upside down and brought forth the pieces of himself he’d lost over the years.

Your hand touched the side of his face, gently wiping away his tears with a smile that must have ached from how constant it was, how all-encompassing and infectious, full of unbridled joy and love. This was where he was supposed to be, where everything in his life led to – this moment – where you mouthed ‘I love you’ because you couldn’t stand to hold it back another second.

He kissed the palm of your hand, an intimate gesture shared between you witnessed by friends and family in the crowd, and he whispered, “I love you, too.”

His home. His sweet girl who reminded him who he was under years of fortified walls caging him from sunlight. His whole heart.

A new start. A new life.

For I can't help falling in love with you

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #jamies500writingchallenge

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ahkaahshi · 4 years ago

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12:27 AM [kuroo tetsurou x reader]

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x fem reader (platonic relationship)

genre: fluff and angst

warning(s): swearing, brief mentions of alcohol consumption

word count: 2.8k

overview: you go on one, final late night food run with your best friend to commemorate your last evening in tokyo

notes: as stated above, the reader and kuroo’s relationship here is purely platonic. it just felt right. also, this one’s a bit more dialogue-heavy than usual, but it’s intentional :) hope you enjoy!

At 12:27 AM, Kuroo’s standing in the kitchen, poring over an open cupboard of food—none of which seems to fulfill his cravings. Tapping the toes of his house slippers against the tiled floor, he sends a glance over at where you’re sitting on the couch, watching the movie he’d put on with rapt attention. His attempts at successfully blocking out thoughts of what’s to come tomorrow are foiled once more when his gaze settles on the luggage waiting patiently in the entryway.

“Hey, (f/n),” he calls out to you, shutting the cabinets in front of him and turning away from them. The eyebrow you raise at him expectantly has him continuing, “Whaddya say to going on one, last late-night food run in the city with your old pal?”

With a snicker, you toss the mountains of blankets off your body and stand up as you say, “You act as if today’s my last day on the planet, Tetsu.”

“Seriously, though, who knows when we’ll be able to do this again?” he wonders, “Might as well live like it’s your last day on the planet, even if it’s just for a night, right?”

You shake your head as you pull on an old Nekoma hoodie out of your backpack that matches the one he’s wearing. “Quit it, dumbass; you’re gonna make me all sentimental.”

A grin spreads across his lips and he gives you a playful shake once the two of you have stepped into your shoes and left his home. It warms your heart but shatters it at the same time, since you’re painfully aware of the fact that tonight will be the last time you see it in person for what could be months. And if his words hadn’t already made you a bit emotional, the drive through Tokyo would’ve done the trick.

He rolls the windows of his car down, letting in the cool, nighttime air that whistles past as the vehicle picks up speed. In an effort he wants to seem as spontaneous as possible, he plays music from a playlist the two of you had made together back when you were in high school, shouting and dancing along to the lyrics of every song with you with an enthusiasm that has you doubling over in your seat with laughter.

Every stoplight gives other drivers and pedestrians buzzing around the bustling downtown area the opportunity to shoot you judgmental looks or those of entertainment, but you’re too busy living in the moment with him that you barely notice or even care, for that matter. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but you don’t bother to ask. Instead, you find yourself lost in admiring the dazzling array of lights passing you by during your drive through the lively city. Knowing you’ll be in a new one by this time tomorrow has you gazing upon everything you’d simply passed by before without a second thought with a newfound appreciation and lingering nostalgia.

Eventually, after Kuroo’s impressed you by maneuvering his car into a tighter parking spot than you thought he could fit in, you find your destination is a small restaurant tucked away in one of the back alleys aglow with neon signs. Though it’s packed to the brim with other patrons enjoying a late-night meal, there’s plenty of conversation between you and your friend to fill the time you spend waiting for a table.

Once you’re inside, you bask in the warmth heavy with the delicious smell of fresh food as the two of you sit together and reminisce over steaming bowls of ramen. “You know one thing I’ll never forget?” Kuroo begins, fishing out a few plump noodles with his chopsticks. You glance over at him expectantly while you blow on the broth in your spoon and he chuckles before adding, “The look on Lev’s face when he hit you in the back of the head during warmups and you gave him the coldest stare I’ve ever seen.”

“I felt so bad when I realized it was him, though, ‘cause I thought it was you!” you defend.

Kuroo’s unoccupied hand flies to his chest to complete the feigned look of shock on his face. “And you were gonna look at me like that if it was?”

“You were always aiming for me, Tetsu.”

“You were always on the court!”

“Helping Coach toss and keeping hitters like you from fucking up your ankles by coming down on stray volleyballs, you asshole.”

Kuroo shrugs and comments, “I never hit you hard, though,” and moves another serving of noodles to his lips. “Just wanted to keep our beloved manager on her toes is all.”

With an incredulous scoff, you retort, “Yeah, you did that, alright. And even well into uni, too.”

There’s a pause in your conversation as you both take a moment to enjoy your food before Kuroo questions, “Could you please submit your evidence to the court?”

“Halloween,” you state, (e/c) eyes laser focused on his own, hazel ones. He’s narrowing them, as if he’s trying to remember the event in question, so you help him out by continuing, “You and Kou were insistent on coming with me to a raging house party that night. The two of you got so, annoyingly drunk that you were laughing at the top of your lungs like hyenas about videos of pets dressed up in costumes at three in the morning.”

He raises a finger contemplatively. “I might’ve blacked out, but that does sound like something I’d do.”

“In that case, you probably forgot about all the noise complaints I got, then; and how the owner of the place came to scold me in person.”

A bashful grin forms on his lips at the memory you’ve reminded him of, and he concedes, “Alright, alright; we’ve both done a lot of stupid shit in the time we’ve known each other, so let’s just leave it at that. Besides, I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to remind you of the time you lost your bikini top in the ocean and were too mortified to move, so you made me swim in and get it, right?”

“This conversation is over,” you declare, face growing hot with embarrassment as a vivid image of the moment in question flashes across your mind.

As the two of you continue enjoying your delicious meals and reminiscing about other, more positive experiences you’ve shared together, you feel the knot that’s been settled in the pit of your stomach for what seems to be weeks now make itself known once more. In spite of your outward calmness and enthusiasm, you were starting to have trouble hiding your nervousness. The last thing you’d wanted was for anyone to notice and try to talk you out of your decision, but Kuroo’s far more perceptive than most and knows you well enough to understand what you’re thinking.

When the two of you finish your meals and find the strength to scoot out of your chairs, he notices the way you gaze longingly at your surroundings. He catches sight of the gentle glimmer of emotion in your eyes as you request that he drive you anywhere he wants—just to hold off on going back to his place for a bit longer. And each time he takes his eyes off the road ahead to cast a glance in your direction, he finds your attention fixated on all the buildings and people that pass by.

But it’s not until the two of you arrive at a nearly empty parking lot outside a large, sprawling park that he decides to bring up the question of what’s on your mind. “Hey, (f/n),” he says, making you turn on your heels to face him where you’d been standing a few feet away from his car, watching the twinkling lights in the distance. He looks so carefree, perched on the hood of his vehicle, hands shoved into the pockets of his black joggers, whereas you’re much more on edge, trying to keep your foot-tapping against the loose gravel to a minimum.

“Hmm?”

He purses his lips for a moment before answering slowly, “I’ve been thinking about this for a while—the last day we’d spend together. And it’s one of those things that you just can’t really prepare yourself for, no matter how hard you try to, y’know?” The muscles around your brow relax, and your expression becomes more curious upon being pulled out of your worrisome thoughts. “I know how I’m feeling, but how are you holding up?”

Your fingers interlace themselves as you bite the inside of your cheek. Even if you want to, there’s no bullshitting Kuroo. Not when he’s seen you in every state you can imagine and is often one to pick up on your feelings before you’re even aware they exist, though he often brings them to your attention with a more lighthearted approach than most would think appropriate to take. Doesn’t mean he cares any less, however; and you can see the genuine concern in his hazel eyes shining a paler color in the white moonlight.

“I’m excited,” you tell him. With the way your heart’s pounding in your chest, you’d be surprised if he couldn’t hear its pulse in your voice. Moving towards him to occupy the space on the hood beside him, you take a deep breath and look up at him. “But I’m terrified at the same time.” It’s instantaneous, the way you lean into his touch the moment he slings his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him. “Since we were kids, I was always talking about wanting to move to another country, remember?”

“I thought you just said that to make me sad whenever I pissed you off.”

You lightly swat his chest and argue, “Oh, be quiet.” But, before you can continue with what you were going to say, you find yourself focused on the words he’d spoken instead. “Wait, did you actually mean that?”

With a gentle chuckle, he shrugs. “Nah, I was joking.” The adam’s apple in his throat bobs when he turns his attention towards the sky and admits, “But I always did get a little sad whenever you mentioned it. Still do.” A moment of silence filled with the distant sounds of traffic and the chirping of insects ensues during which you watch your fingers toy with the aglets hanging off your hoodie. “I mean, come on, now; what kinda kid wants one of his best friends to move away when he knows how big the world is but how singular and small he is?”

“Tetsu,” you murmur softly, feeling your lip tremble with emotion and your eyes sting with oncoming tears, “You’ve always been there for me through, like, everything. Or, at least, it feels that way. Part of the reason why I’m so scared of leaving is because I’m gonna be all by myself, in a brand-new place, just thrown into the deep end of things and having to teach myself how to swim all over again. But another part of it is because I’m gonna be away from you. And even now, as an adult, I still don’t wanna move away from my best friend.”

He doesn’t even have to look at you or hear you sniffle to know you’re crying, and he tightens his grip around you, placing his other hand on your back. Appreciative of the gesture, you bury your face in the soft fabric of his sweatshirt and pull him into an embrace so you can hold onto him for a few, long moments that you wish didn’t have to end.

“Hey, it’s all good as long as you don’t forget about me once you make it big out there, okay?” His tone is teasing and lighthearted, as per usual, but you can hear the subtlest break in his voice that has more tears cascading down your cheeks and pooling in the creases of his sweater.

“I’m not gonna forget you—I could never—but, what if I can’t do it?” you whimper, “What if I get there and I hate the job, or I hate my coworkers, or I hate life over there? Then I’ll be stuck out there with no one.”

Rubbing your back gently, he assures you, “If worst comes to worst, you can come back home and regroup. You’ll always have a place to stay here. Well… unless I get super famous and end up being offered a job to travel around the world.” You can’t help but snicker at his comment, and neither can he. “Even if I’m not physically there, I’ll always be there in spirit. And don’t discount the possibility of me showing up at your doorstep, since we know I have a tendency to do that.”

“Like a stray cat I keep feeding.”

“Exactly. Maybe you’ll even get two if I can convince Kenma to come with me. We’ll have to see how long he can survive off his Switch alone.”

Your bodies both shake with laughter for a few moments before you pull away from each other, and his hands slide onto your shoulders to give them a firm squeeze. Keeping your head lowered for a moment, you drag the sleeves of your hoodie across your eyes to wipe up any stray tears you hadn’t left on his. When your gazes meet, though, the confidence in his almost entirely dissolves the knot that’s been building in your stomach for so long.

“Hey.” He shakes you gently, and you jokingly let your head roll about, eliciting more snickers from both of your mouths before looking at him expectantly and with your full attention. “Don’t let the worst-case scenario hold you back from something that could be great. You’re so quick to think about how likely the worst possible thing is to happen, but why can’t the best be just as likely?”

Playfully, you tease, “Wow, seems like someone’s trying to get me outta here,” with a smirk.

“(F/n),” he sighs, sending a long plume of steam upwards from his mouth. Giving you a firm pat on the arm, he admits, “I’m gonna miss you like hell. But this is what you’ve been wanting for so long, and I want you to do it so badly. Partly so I can say that I have a vacation property abroad, but mostly because you know I want the best for you, since you deserve it.”

Your lip quakes once again at his confession, but you manage to blink back the tears this time and crack a smile. “Okay. But if you’d better not get even the slightest bit sentimental or teary-eyed tomorrow or else I’m gonna cry like a bitch all the way through the airport.”

“Eyes will be dry as long as you promise to video call me the second you land so I can go on the cab ride with you and see the whole, cute apartment reveal thing that’s so trendy these days.”

A mixture of a giggle and a gentle sob leaves your mouth as you watch his figure distorted by your swimming vision rise from the hood of his car. You feel warm hands on your wrists pulling you up onto your feet before you’re ensconced in another tight hug while Kuroo rocks from one foot to the other.

“You’re gonna be fine.”

After giving you a squeeze hard enough to push the air out of your lungs, he releases his grasp around you and opens the door on the passenger’s side so you can climb in and retreat from the coldness of the night. “With all these emotions plus the food, I’m gonna knock out so fast when we get home,” you mumble with a soft sniffle, reaching for the packet of tissues in his glove compartment once he’s settled in the driver’s seat.

He scoffs and furrows his eyebrows at you as he sticks his keys in the ignition. “Who said you were sleeping tonight? You’ve got the whole plane ride tomorrow to do that.”

“Alright, you can’t blame me for being cranky, then.”

With a shake of the head, he shifts the car into reverse so he can back out of the parking lot and start the journey back to his home. While the music you’d been blasting earlier plays softly from the speakers, you rest your head on the door once more to watch your familiar surroundings breeze by outside.

“Tetsurou.” You glance over at him and his head of haphazardly styled hair that you’re sure won’t fit on the screen of your phone the next time you see him, and his eyes meet yours when he brings the car to a halt at a stop sign. “Thanks for spending my so-called last night on the planet with me.”

extra that didn’t make the cut: kuroo didn’t shed a tear at the airport until after he thought you’d left. but you’d actually just hid somewhere and caught him with watery eyes. you still video called him as soon as you landed, though.

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taglists (send an ask to be added to the when night falls taglist!)

when night falls: @aoyukai, @why-aminot-dead, @yamagucji, @toutorii, @shibayamasbae, @tsukkisbean, @devlovesiwa-channn, @captain-shittykawa, @ghblh, @postsfromthe6, @omibaby, @deerixiie

general: @dinablossom, @newfriendjen, @ohbyunhunn, @aftcrlust, @mister-future, @kyleclxin, @kac-chowsballs, @osamusmiya, @nit-sir-hc, @arixtsukki, @shinsurou, @ichorizaki, @dominikmagnus, @tendo-sxtori, @krynnza

kuroo: @lotsoffandomrecs, @heyhinata, @cuddlysoftbear

#haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo x reader #x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #reader insert #kuroo tetsurou #tw alcohol mention #fran writes hq!!#ahkaahshi//wnf

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