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abiiors · 2 years ago

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canvas 🎨 // matty healy x reader

a/n: matty painter au because i have gone slightly insane idk. i love the interview these photos are from <33 got weirdly poetic with this i'm so sorry

the author heard "paint me like one of your french girls" and took it too far :)

cw: paint play???? cum play if you squint (yeah ik paint is toxic but these people are Very Horny)

wc: 3.4k

there are streaks of paint on her hips.

a smudge of yellow right under her navel, fingerprints of blue, touching, moving, caressing the apex of her thighs as they slowly morph into green and disappear somewhere between her legs.

she lounges lazily on the chaise, a bunch of red grapes dangling in her hands. when matty takes a break, she quickly pops one in her mouth. it bursts with a pop, grape juice pooling at the corner of her lips and sliding down, down, down. it disappears somewhere on her skin.

matty’s breath hitches and he digs his nails deeper into his palms.

“could you fold your leg a little more, please?” his voice sounds husky to his own ears.

“please?” she raises an eyebrow, “since when did you start being so polite?”

“since this is a professional relationship,” he grounds out through gritted teeth. instantaneous. he's not unfamiliar with this back and forth by now.

matty looks up at her once again and sees her eyes, alight with mirth, looking right at him. it’s a peculiar feeling, he realises, he wants her to never look away from him again but he is also about to spontaneously combust.

each stroke of the brush reveals more and more of her lithe body; the curve of her hips that dip into her waist, the soft velvet of the chaise bunched up under her shapely legs.

“eyes at the window, please,” he chastises gently. the thought of her dark gaze on him as he paints is too much to bear.

this is not the first time he has painted with a nude model alone, even a female nude model for that matter. in fact, matty prides himself on the fact that he’s a consummate professional, that he has never been sleazy with any of his nude models. but she seems intent on pushing all his buttons.

they had met a few months ago at a fancy tribeca bar. he had been celebrating his newest exhibition at a modest art gallery and she, the extension of her visa. they took to each other like moths to the brightest of flames. he soon learned that she was, like him, a starving artist. except her medium of art was her body. she had modelled for all kinds of designers all over nyc but she had yet to ‘make it’.

he still remembered the way the smoothness of the live jazz band had permeated through his bones. the old fashioneds he had been drinking had created a nice buzz when he had heard her order a dirty martini in a very distinct accent.

“come work for me,” he had said before the alcohol and drugs had consumed all rational thoughts. all that remained from that night were vague memories of red lips, fingers that trailed down his stomach and flashes of ecstasy. but now those same fingers rest in front of her abdomen, just inches away from where he wishes his head was. so matty has to swallow roughly and go back to his canvas.

the painting is nowhere near being finished. he has only just finished the outlining process a few days ago but the thought of being here in this cramped space with her is too much to bear. matty’s grip on his brush tightens involuntarily.

he mixes the colours on his easel carefully. matching the perfect shade of her skin is damn near an impossible task. there are shades of golden and then there is the pale hollow of her throat that he so desperately wants to mark up. how pretty she would look with a necklace of marks left by him. how her lips would part, sounds of ecstasy escaping, echoing in his studio, inside his skull for days.

the brush digs into his hands as his thoughts reach a crescendo. a loud cracking sound resonates through the room and her eyes snap to him once again; this time a startled expression on her face. but it doesn’t long before it morphs into one of amusement and slight smugness.

matty’s face pales when realisation dawns. he gripped the brush so tightly that it snapped in half. splinters of the wood dig into his fingers and he takes it as a welcome opportunity to walk up to the bin in the corner of the room.

anything to escape her dark and knowing gaze.

“everything okay with you?” she asks and he bristles at her tone, at the way she doesn’t even try to conceal her amusement.

“yes,” he has to clear his throat before he can speak again, “yes, perfectly fine.”

matty wants to set fire to the canvas in front of him.

or perhaps it’s the sweat that gathers at the back of his neck and runs down his back that’s making him feel so irate. it bothers him more than it should, her stare bothers him more than it should.

“window,” he reminds her through pursed lips. it’s better to use as few words as possible. that way they can get this done quickly and go home and he won’t have to think about her again till their next appointment…

but who is he kidding? matty knows she will be there, present in his waking and sleeping thoughts, burrowing herself in his brain, in its crevices like a permanent splotch of paint on his carpets.

“i told you to look at the window,’ he says. his voice is gruff and commanding.

“and i told you that i liked it better this way.” it’s a challenge—open and daring. her gaze refuses to leave him as she slowly gets to her feet.

matty freezes in place—it’s stupid, he knows it. he’s been staring at her naked body for hours now, memorising its contours and immortalising them on his canvas. watching her stand like this in front of him shouldn’t bother him. shouldn’t make his mouth go dry. the traces of paint between her legs beckon and taunt him. how easy it would be to worship her—first with his mouth and then with his hands.

how sweet would she taste, melting on his tongue?

“what are you…”

“let's take a break.” she stretches, fingers intertwining together as her arms lift high above her head. her eyes close in satisfaction, a soft sigh falling from her lips. the sun warms the room. the sight heats up his blood.

“your robe is on the table,” matty points to a corner of the room, averts his gaze with great difficulty. as expected, she smirks because to her it’s a cat-and-mouse game. and he’s her prey.

“why? does it bother you?”

footsteps pad softly towards him, the carpet rustles but he doesn’t stop her from walking to him. a small part of him likes knowing that the sway in her hips is for him. likes knowing that he haunts her thoughts just like she haunts his.

“no.”

lies. a rouge and traitorous thought slips through.

matty is sure she can feel his racing heartbeat when she stops right in front of him. their chests touch, separated only by his flimsy cotton t-shirt. the proximity makes him realise how he towers over her, how she has to tilt her head to look him in the eyes. it’s a rather pleasing angle on her. the red smudge on her lips drives him mad.

“tell me, matty,” her accent snags on his name as she flicks her eyes to his lips, “is this how professional relationships work here?”

she’s throwing his words back at him; teasing, taunting. her big eyes bore into his. matty’s cock twitches in response. the golden sun floods the room, illuminates everything in its path and he is once again struck by how beautiful she is. how much he yearns to hold her by the waist, to capture her mouth, to hear her soft sounds and loud moans. how much he yearns for her.

his thoughts are fuzzy. he’s not thinking straight, he hasn’t been ever since she’s walked into his life, in his studio. his brain short-circuited the moment she shed her soft silk dress, the moment he watched the straps fall down her shoulders and the fabric pool around her ankles.

he’s not thinking straight when he pulls her closer by her waist.

“no,” he breathes, eyes already fluttering shut as her scent hits his senses anew. “you’re just an exception.”

when their lips crash against each other, something comes alive in him. a missing piece of the puzzle, a colour he’s been trying to mix just right. his heart thumps in his chest to the beat of the song playing in the background. an old jazzy french tune that has been stuck in his head all day. something that reminds him of her, of the curve of her hips and the softness of her hair.

“matty,” she moans right in his mouth. his name on her tongue exploring the inside of his mouth. her skin feels slightly sticky with paint and sweat.

it feels like an out-of-body experience at first. the fingers caressing her jaw move so confidently leaving streaks of red in their wake. in an instant, he forgets about the painting.

the kisses are raw and hungry, bordering on feverish. matty’s table clutters when she pushes him against it, her naked body pressed flush against his. goosebumps litter all over his skin, electric tingles that shoot straight from her fingertips and zap through his bloodstream.

“say you want me,” she all but moans. “i know you do. i see–fuck, i see how you look at me.”

matty smirks at the way she almost loses her train of thought as soon as he nips at her skin. it’s the hollow of her throat that’s been driving him crazy—unmarred and soft. his teeth graze her pulse point, leaving behind soft pink marks that he soothes with his tongue.

“i want you,” he licks over another bruise. “so bad—can’t think straight sweetheart.”

and it’s true, it’s never taken him this long to finish a painting before. hours of staring at her and he still can’t seem to get enough of it.

“so fuck me then.” her head is thrown back at this point. her voice is distant to matty’s ears, still he hears the lust in it. the want. and it fuels his own.

she is art, he thinks. she should be his masterpiece. an idea forms in his head, bright as a star, a vision he sees so clearly. or it’s just hallucinations of a horny brain. either way, he breaks away from the kiss, grasping at her jaw roughly.

“get on the canvas,” he commands. and she obeys without hesitation.

“on your back. and lie still.” even with his dominant side, there is a softness to matty and so she does as she’s told.

he has to stop and marvel at the sight—she’s a vision on his half-finished painting of her, hair fanning out in unruly waves, nipples hardened. she comes alive under his stare, smiling smugly at matty’s unabashedness, at the way his eyes linger—first on the swell of her breasts to the curve of her waist and between her legs where wetness gathers the more excited she gets. she wants him to touch her, whines for it even. and he wants to give her what she wants. but not so easily. not like the first time when both of them were too drunk to appreciate each other’s bodies.

this time he wants to remember. more than that, he wants to make it memorable.

he dips both his hands in a dish full of paint, pink on the right, grey on the left. matty settles on his knees, right between her legs, parting them further with his paint-stained hands. the colours mix with the preexisting streaks on her body, greys with greens and pinks with yellows. matty’s mind swims with possibilities.

“what are you waiting for?” she tuts, hooking her legs around his waist. paint sticks to his trousers. colour blooms high on his cheeks.

when matty bends to capture her breast in his mouth, she gasps sharply. he’s briefly aware of the coolness of the paint that’s now on his stomach, a new shade of pink that morphs into something else the more they move against each other.

“i never knew you made such pretty sounds,” he praises, tongue moving between her breasts from one nipple to another. he smirks when her legs tighten around him.

“keep doing more of that,” she pants, “and i’ll give you any sounds you want.”

matty chuckles, mouth moving lower. now that he’s started, it’s impossible to stop or slow down. his hands trace the length of her thigh, smudging the old colours on smooth skin, mixing them with new ones as he traces a finger up to the apex. she squirms under him, hips thrusting into his.

she’s soaking wet and panting; practically dripping onto the canvas. it’s mesmerising to him, how her cheek presses against the white surface, leaves behind hypnotic patterns.

her fingers are on the column of his spine, nails scratching softly as she traces his skin. matty feels himself growing harder, head spinning as all his blood rushes south. he wants her, he needs to feel her, to be inside her.

“such a good little pet,” he mumbles against her mouth, lips capturing hers in a searing kiss till she’s writhing under him and clenching around nothing.

“please, matty,” she begs. her hands move faster, fumbling with his belt. she all but rips it off him as desperation and instinct take over. matty watches transfixed.

the ruby red of her swollen lips, the silvery sheen on her face. the necklace of mottled mauves he’s left around her throat—it’s prettier than anything he could have come up with himself.

“beautiful,” he whispers on the shell of her ear and feels her shiver under him.

the sound of his zipper tears through the room. matty hisses with pleasure, eyes fluttering shut as she palms him—first over his boxers, then playing with the waistband.

“touch me,” he pleads, unable to help himself, and watches her pull his cock out.

matty loses himself in the feeling of her hands wrapped around him, the way she rakes her nails down his length, traces the vein pulsating along the side. his stomach tightens with pleasure.

“please,” she whines again, “need you in me, please.”

and this time he obliges, lining himself against her entrance. he moves his hand between their bodies, finding her clit and rubbing the bundle of nerves in circles. their bodies are so close that matty only needs to bend down to kiss her again. but he stays where he is, tip teasing her entrance, fingers flicking her clit. he wants to watch her fall apart under him, around his cock, again and again.

“like toying with me, do you?” she wraps a hand around his base, lining his dick against her entrance properly. matty knows she can take charge if she wants to but he’s not about to let that happen. not today.

“someone’s needy,” he tuts. in truth, he loves her needy whines, her desperation and at last matty gives her what she wants.

he thrusts into her slowly, fingers still rubbing her clit at a steady pace. his other hand is next to her face, leaving behind smudges of pink in the vague shape of his palm. her eyes are rolled back her head, mouth parted—the room echoes with soft sounds.

“harder–shit,” she moans. “please…”

“begging is a good look for you,” he whispers cheekily. the primal, male part of him can’t help itself.

matty rocks into her, bottoming out again and again.

“so tight baby, so wet for me,” he gasps as his thrusts come faster. she trembles under his touch again, letting out a string of curses. matty can tell she’s close as she clenches around his cock again and again.

her nails rake down his back, on his shoulders, leaving behind scratches and cuts but none of them particularly care about it. all matty cares about are her moans and cries, the way she says his name again and again.

“gonna cum,” she pants, “go faster, please–please.”

so matty does; grabbing her hips, he thrusts into her over and over again, increases his pace to the point where it’s bruises. filthy sounds of flesh slapping on flesh fill the room, moans from them both. matty loses track of time, of his surrounding, until he feels her clench around his cock and let go with a cry.

“so pretty,” he coos and can’t help but trace a finger down her nose, along her bottom lip. “such a good girl for me.”

“come on pretty girl, i know you can cum for me one more time.” her pretty little whimpers shoot straight to his cock as he goes faster still. “you're so good for me, so fucking good around me, fucking made for me.”

“made for you,” she repeats, “ye–yes. go faster. shit.”

matty groans when she wraps her legs around his waist. it’s sudden, between one thrust and the next he’s suddenly reaching deeper than he was before. they both cry out as intense pleasure swirls in matty’s belly.

he’s close, he can feel it. he just wants to coax one more orgasm out of her, watch her fall apart one more time. he wants to bottle up the noises she makes, for his ears only.

his pelvis grinds on her clit, rougher than before. the intensity of it is blinding. the fire runs right under his skin, ready to consume everything in its path and burn him in ecstasy.

“you can cum for me again, yeah? let go, darling,” he coaxes, and lowers his mouth to hers again, swallowing away her moans and cries. matty runs his tongue on her bottom lip, nipping at the corner of her mouth.

her face is wet with tears of pleasure. he knows she’s overstimulated, struggling to keep up with him but she cries out again. a sob rips out from her as matty feels her cumming around him again, legs twitching as he fucks her through her orgasm.

their sweaty skin sticks together, rubbing against each other and mixing paints. but matty knows what he wants, knows how to finish the final piece of his art.

“iie still now,” he commands, “gonna cum on your pretty tits. you want that?”

“please,” she nods vigorously, hissing when he pulls out of her in one go. her back arches off the canvas, fingers curling on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. he’s marked forever.

matty fists himself, once, twice, head thrown back as he cries out her name. he feels his cock twitch one last time, balls tightening until he’s spurting out thick white ropes of cum all over her tits, her stomach. it pools in her navel and puts a sheen of milky white on the paint. matty watches, mesmerised.

he’s never felt this perverse satisfaction before. this much primal possessiveness.

“fuck–fuck, matty,” she breathes hard, eyes still closer and hands in her hair as she comes down from her high.

matty can’t help himself as he places a finger in the mess he’s made. he traces it in arbitrary shapes, swirls and lines, mixing colours and spreading his sticky release on her until his fingers reach her jaw.

cheekily, she opens her mouth. an invitation—the desire to taste him written all over her face. so matty obliges, moaning when she swirls her tongue around his fingers, sucking them cleaning. her cheeks hollow from the effort of it. for a moment he feels like putty in her hands until she lets go of his fingers with an exaggerated pop.

“like seeing me like this?” her voice is hoarse but the tone is still smug. like a cat that got the cream. “covered in you, naked. do i look pretty?”

matty rolls his eyes, “got what you wanted, didn’t you?” and watches her flutter her eyelashes. and she does. look pretty that is. she looks like a masterpiece. his masterpiece.

“i always do,” she grins, hooking her arms around his neck to sit up. matty watches the cum run down her chest.

“clean me up?” she asks sweetly, “and then we can look at the art we made.”

#matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty x reader #matty x you #minors do not interact

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warriorsweaver · 8 months ago

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Original Warriors covers vs new covers, a tangential word vomit analysis by me: ORIGINALS Into the Wild really pulls you in. Who are they? Why does the one on the right look vicious? What's up here?

Fire and Ice is like, "Shit's going DOWN." The little square with Fireheart and Graystripe sitting for their vigil is beautiful. Love the moon. Love the difference in colors between the square and the battle in the background.

Forest of Secrets is breathtaking. It's easily one of my favorite book covers ever. Fireheart's back is exposed, the story dives into betrayal, and the cats crossing the stepping stones is ... just perfect.

Rising Storm with the hunting sequence and itty bitty fluffy lil baby Cloudtail. I wanna scoop him up and snuggle him and give him churus. The background looks beautiful. I want to go there. It contrasts well with the tension of one cat stalking another.

A Dangerous Path with that LIGHNTNING IN THE BACKGROUND omg middle school me was obsessed. That's the one I remember seeing my friend read and then I finally asked her what those books were. I remember thinking, "I can't wait to get to that book," because it was clear some big stuff was going on in it.

The Darkest Hour is so calm and really gives eye of the storm vibes, and Firestar seeing his reflection as a lion is beautiful and an excellent payoff.

NEW COVERS The new covers are like, "This is a cat," and that's about it. Great. Yeah, that's a cat. A pretty kitty, one might say.

Into the Wild's is okay. Rusty looks a bit baby-faced, as to be expected, and his eye is well-done. I like the grass, but also it looks like he's just popping up from it even though I feel like the intent is that he's supposed to be stalking through the foliage? On Fire and Ice's cover, I can tell that's Tigerclaw. Looks like the still shot of a villain in an anime while they're plotting their Evildoings and you can hear their inner monologue. But he also looks like a very old bearded man, for some reason. The little embers against the wintry background is a nice touch. Why is Forest of Secrets golden? Why is the river piss? Why is it sparkly? This does not invoke long-buried secrets being unearthed and changing lives, reputations, and social statuses. It has more of a "summer vacations that last forever" bright and pretty vibe. Rising Storm is ... eh. Red. Fiery. Okay. But the overly airbrushed, sparkly-eyed kitty doesn't show me that tensions are building. It just looks like kitty is doing a photoshoot for their Insta. I think that's Yellowfang?? A Dangerous Path is, like, where is that light coming from and why? Nothing here looks dangerous. The cat looks like it's being blinded. I don't even know which cat that's supposed to be. The forest background is dark to remind us that this is a DANGEROUS path but forests are dark at night and not inherently dangerous because they're dark. Aaannd then we get to The Darkest Hour. All they had to do was include a fucking lion somewhere. It would've been cool even if it was sitting behind Firestar. It doesn't look like he's looking at his reflection. It looks ... I don't even know. The water effect would work much better if it looked like it was rippling outward from somewhere? Instead, they made it look like the water is moving in an outline around his head, which doesn't make any sense. It's sourceless. Where does the movement start? Where is it going? I don't know. I can't tell.

The close-up face shots with little to nothing intriguing going on around the cats doesn't make me wonder anything about the story. It doesn't pull me in. There is so little space around them. It feels like when you wake up and you feel your cat's breath against your nose and their paw is in your mouth and they're yowling at you because they're STARVING and you're like, "Dude, I love you, but get out of my face." ty for reading my rant. please return to your regularly scheduled day. Have a good one.

edit: just wanted to toss out there that the artist of the new covers has amazing work in his portfolio, and my issue isn't with him nor his art as a whole, just that the direction (which is probably on the publishers' end) lacks "oomph" and doesn't do the drama in the Warriors series justice. Also, with as many books as there are in the series, it's important that each book's cover is distinct, and the newer covers don't quite hit that mark.

#warrior cats #warriors fandom #erin hunter warriors #warriorcats #warriors books #warrior cats rant

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twinkleimagines · 4 years ago

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*Lets go camping*

For yours and Drew’s 2 year anniversary, he takes you on a week vacation of nothing but Camping in a national forest with a huge waterfall. It was hard for you to enjoy it at first because of the heat and bugs and just outside in general, but Drew knew how to quickly change your mind on the trip, especially when the sun was setting .

* this is extra extra long with EXTRA smut. Fair warning. 18 AND OLDER.

“ ughhhh” *smack*-

Drew chuckled as he watched you sit in your foldable chair by the fire he had going, smacking your arm as another mosquito landed on you. “ God I hate this shit” you mumbled under your breath as you went swinging at another bug on your thigh.

“ c’mon baby it’s only our first day , give it some time it’ll warm up to ya” he stated as he snapped a twig over his leg, placing the two pieces in his fire wood pile.

“ yeah well you could’ve picked like an RV or something “ you stated halfway joking. He shook his head walking over towards you.

“ that completely defeats the purpose of camping princess “ he replied before leaning down pecking your lips.

“ mmm you’re lucky you’re so hot” you moaned out looking at his shirtless body glistening in the sunlight.

“ cmon put your tennis shoes on baby, I want to show you something but it’s gonna be a walk” he stated as he filled his book bag up with water bottles.

“ you’re just trying to kill me arent you” you scoffed as you slid your tennis shoes on before zipping the tent back up. You were semi familiar with North Carolina from being with Drew for two years but Drew always surprised you with different locations he had managed to scope out throughout his teenage and early college years. You were a good 2 miles deep in the woods where Drew decided was a good spot for camping . You didn’t like it because you were so far away from his truck and the road itself, but he swore he had camped there before and knew the area like the back of his hand.

“ we’ll if we’re on the news in two weeks for a bear attack, I hope you know I WILL haunt you in the afterlife” you said walking over to him as he patiently waited for you, propped up against a tree.

“ oh baby I got stuff for cases like that, but I’ve never seen a bear before out here and I’ve been out here more than I can count “ he stated , plopping one of his baseball caps on your head.

“ hm my own personal Tarzan” you joked running your hand down his toned chest. “ so sexy”

***

“ you hear that?” Drew beamed excitedly while standing on a huge fallen tree. You sighed heavily , leaning over placing your hands on your knees trying to catch your breath.

“ yeah I can hear my own lungs collapsing” you exclaimed leaning up against the tree he was standing on. He chuckled at how dramatic you were before shaking his head.

“ no princess the water” he stated turning his head to the right of him.

“ ooohhh finally” you beamed climbing up the tree , walking down towards where Drew stood.

“ c’mon princess you’ll love it” he exclaimed grabbing your hand, helping you down the tree. Within a few more minutes the water was extremely loud, and you were for sure it was going to be a waterfall that you would be coming up to.

“ there it is” Drew beamed excitedly, reaching his arm out. You gasped at the sight. It was Huge and the view itself was definitely worth the walk it took to get there.

“ come on “ Drew said tugging on your hand pulling you towards the water. You both stood on the edge, standing on big flat rocks that lined the edge of the river . “ let’s swim” Drew said before kicking his shoes off.

“ my bathing suit is at the tent” you said frowning.

“ no one will be anywhere near here just wear your underwear.” He said as he pulled his black shorts down, his tight gray briefs outlining his figure.

“ the thing is” you started as you pulled your Jean shorts down, wiggling your bottom out, your pink cheekers prominently making your bottom really stand out. You smirked as you watched Drew’s face as you pulled your padded tank top over your head, completely flashing Drew as you had no bra on. “ I don’t have a bra “

“ whewww” Drew replied, his eyes staring at your perky nipples. You grinned seductively as you walked backwards into the water.

“ you coming Daddy?” You purred out, running your hands over the water as you continued to walk backwards. Drew went to respond when all of a sudden he heard a squeal come from your lips as you completely sank under water.

“ oh my god it drops off!” You screamed after you popped back out of water swimming your way back to where you could reach. Drew’s face was red from laughing so hard before he walked into the water towards you.

“ come here beautiful “ he said pulling you towards him by your waist. Your breasts were pressed tightly up against his chest as you wrapped your legs around his waste , your arms going around his shoulders.

“ I know I complained a lot today, but it’s really beautiful out here and I’m really enjoying our time together” you stated, the splashes from the waterfall spraying you and Drew slightly.

“ mm me to too baby” he beamed. You giggled as you felt him starting to grow up under you, pressing against your core.

“ oh Drew” you chuckled out, “ we’ve never had sex in the water before” you whispered to him before leaning down for a kiss. Drew’s large hands squeezed your bottom as you nibbled on his bottom lip, feeling his cock jump against you.

“ you so fuckinf sexy y/n” he groaned, lifting your hips up against his shaft, making you moan out to the friction. “ you just don’t know what you do to me.”

“ yeah? Wanna show me baby?” you moaned out rubbing your nose against his. Drew quickly pulled your panties to the side, pulling himself out of his boxers before sliding himself into you at a quick pace. You gasped out loudly, your mouth opening wide as Drew stretched you out. Despite being in the water, Drews huge member had you moaning loudly as you were grinding your hips up and down his cock, his hands gripping your ass to help hold you up.

“ your pussy feels so good on me princess” Drew groaned out, his breath shaky as you both moved at a fast pace. You threw your head back moaning loudly , tugging on the back of his hair as his plump lips landed on your neck, his hands gripping so tight against your hips as he aggressively moved them up and down his body, surely to leave bruises by morning. You looked down, watching his huge biceps flex with each movement, his shoulders tensing each time he lifted you.

“ oh fuck baby” he groaned out, his hips bucking foward as he pulled you down , going deep in you.

“ you’re gonna make me cum Drew” you cried out, squeezing tightly against his body as you felt the tingling feeling in the bottom of of your stomach , needing to release on Drew.

“ cum on daddy’s dick princess” Drew huffed out, his jaw opened wide breathing heavily as he watched you unfold over him.

“ oh god!” You screamed out as you felt your clit pulsing, your walls clenching around Drew. Just the sight itself sent him over. You bit your bottom lip as you heard him moan a low ‘ fuck’ in your ear as he road out his climax.

Once Drew’s movements stopped, his arms slid up to around your back , holding you tightly against him while he placed sloppy kids along your collar bone and neck, eventually making their way to your lips.

“That was nice” you beamed, grinning as he still held you up.

“ it was “ he said pecking your lips before lowering you back down, your feet landing on the mossy rocks below .

“ I’m kind of hungry now “ you chuckled, floating on your back.

“ okay we’ll swim for a few and then go back okay? “ Drew said while fixing himself back into his briefs.

“ mhm” you said closing your eyes, moving your hands gently in the water as you floated around theswimming hole on your back .

“ do you bring all of your girlfriends here?” You joked. You jumped as you felt water splash on your face . “ Drew! “ you yelled out as you lifted your head out of the water looking at him.

“ I’ve only had like 2 before you and I never brought them here “ he stated before rolling his eyes. He hated when you would say stuff like that even though he knew you meant it as a joke.

“ I wouldn’t have cared if you did baby” you said swimming over to him.

“ that so ?” He questioned smirking at you. You grinned before jumping out of the water, leaping onto him causing you both to fall over and land under water.

For the next hour it had become a full blown wrestle match between you and Drew. Most of the time it was you getting tossed in the water but you did manage to get him a few times.

You both got dressed quietly , just enjoying the peaceful sight of nature.

“ you ready princess?” Drew asked as you slipped on your shoe, standing up and brushing your bottom off.

“ yup!” You stated, walking over towards him.

*******

“ that’s so nasty” you replied as you watched Drew eat a burnt marshmallow.

“ it’s so good” he muffled out, sucking some of the marshmallow off his thumb. You raised an eyebrow at him before placing your golden brown marshmallow in your mouth, a string of it falling down your chin.

“ let me get it” Drew suggested before taking his finger, wiping the string of sticky mess off your chin. You bit your bottom lip as you watched him stick his finger in his mouth licking it off, the same way he did back at home when he would lick your juices off his finger after fingering you.

“ stop” you said shaking your head looking over at the fire.

“ what’s the matter baby?” Drew said , his deep voice making you shiver. Drew smirked as he watched you close your eyes . He knew exactly what you were thinking about, and his actions were intentional too.

“ that make you think of something?” He said softly , leaning towards you, The lake water smell lingering off of him. You grinned biting your lip, feeling those oh-so familiar tingles in the pit of your stomach. You looked over at him slightly, your eyes glistening Under your lashes from the fire. You both stared intensely at each other for a second before you looked back at the fire, Drew’s cocky smirk still plastered over his face.

“ if you wanted me to take you into the tent and fuck you , all you had to do was ask” he said, causing you to choke on the marshmallow you had just swallowed, your eyes widen with shock. He laughed slightly at your reaction before standing up, his prominent bulge in line with your eyes.

“ c’mon princess” he spoke, reaching his hand out for yours. Your teeth found their way to your bottom lip once again as you let him pull you up from your chair , excitement rushing through you.

It was dark in the tent, orange lights shining through from the fire. “ take em off princess” he demandedt , tugging on your biker shorts . You laid your bottom on his pillow as you lifted your hips, sliding down your shorts and panties in front of him teasingly, watching him stare profoundly at your now heated core. You squeezed your thighs together, feeling the friction before Drew’s large hands spread them back open.

“ relax” he said softly, before leaning down, placing warm soft kisses on your inner thigh. You sighed heavily, closing your eyes as you felt his lips continue to trail down your thigh until they were placed on your clit, sucking slightly .

The only noises resonating through the tent was the sound of crickets, the fire popping, and your moans as you felt Drew’s tongue running up and down your slit, his thumb rubbing circles against you.

“ you taste so good princess” he spoke out against you, his hot breath blowing against you. You bucked your hips up, needing more. Drew smirked before inserting his middle and ring finger, curving them inwards as he pressed them in and out of you at a fast pace.

“Drew” you moaned out, leaning your head back against the pillows in pure bliss .

“ what princess” he responded looking up at you, his fingers still moving at the same pace. “ tell me what you want”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him with your legs wide open.

“ I want you to fuck me Drew” you replied, breathing heavily. Drew immediately hovered himself over you, his lips pressing against yours at a fast and rough pace, his tongue moving against yours. You moaned out against his lips as you felt one of his hands massage around your nipple, cupping them in his large hands. Shortly after he lifted his hips up some to push down his basketball shorts before pumping himself a few times , pressing the tip against your clit. You gasped at the feeling, grinding your hips up needing more.

Drew didn’t hesitate to satisfy you by pushing himself in you, letting out a deep groan as he felt your tight walls around him. He quickly lifted your thigh over his arms, pushing your knees close to your head as he quickened his pace, the sound of slapping skin echoing through the woods.

“ oh fuck Drew” you cried out in pure bliss. Drew pounded in you fast and hard, exactly how you liked it, you watched as his hair moved back and forth against his forehead as he looked down, watching his self move in and out of you.

“ so tight baby” he groaned out. You reached up placing both your hands on the back of his neck, bringing him down to kiss you, His long thick cock stretching you to unfathomable measures.

“ oh god yes baby” you moaned out, feeling yourself getting close. You reached down placing your hands on his lower back , digging your nails in causing him to hiss. “ don’t stop baby I’m close” you said, almost yelling out. Drew leaned up, propping your legs together , placing your feet over his shoulders.

“ fuck princess” he groaned out as he started rocking his hips back and forth at the same previous fast pace again, causing you to throb around him.

“ I’m cumming Drew baby “ you yelled out, leaning your head back. Just the sight of you with your head laid back against his pillows and your back arched, your hands holding your bouncing tits made him come undone, hitting his climax as well. Drew thrusts became rough and irregular before they slowed down eventually coming to a stop.

“ holy fuck” he said out of breath before laying down next to you. You laughed slightly as you felt your clit pulsing from your climax before rolling over laying your head against his chest .

“ you always fuck me so good” you said looking up at him as he brushed his sweaty hair back.

“ oh yeah? “ he responded before kissing your forehead. It didn’t take long before the both of you fell asleep to the sound of the night.

****

It was the last night before you and Drew were going to pack up and go back home . Your whole week had been filled with nothing but laughter, adventures and a lot of sex.

It was late at night, a light rain shower falling over you both. drew was rolled over fast asleep from your hiking trip you had today, while you held the flashlight over one of your books reading it when you heard rustling against the leaves beside your tent. You sat for a second , looking up from your book waiting to hear something. After a few seconds of silence except for rain drops dropping from the tree leaves, you went back to reading your book. It wasn’t long afterwards until you heard it again, this time it was closer and sounded like it was walking towards you. You froze, clicking your flash light off, your heart beginning to race. You started tapping on Drew’s back as you continued to hear moving , fear running through you.

“ hmm?” Drew groaned out but you quickly leaned over him shushing him, placing your hand over his mouth. Drew leaned over trying to look at you but it was pitch black since the rain shower had put your fire out.

“ something out here” you whispered softly. Drew sat up, feeling your body trembling against him. He sat and listened for a second, waiting to hear something.

“ it was probably a raccoon or something” he reassured, only seconds later to be proven wrong as you both heard a growling noise. Your small figure couldn’t scoot any closer to Him than youalready were but your fear made you want to crawl in Drew and hide.

“ fuck” Drew mumbled under his breath , realizing his accusations were wrong. Drew grabbed the flash light from you turning it back on before he reached into his book bag, grabbing the gun his father gave to him for the trip. You knew he had brought it, it was for absolute emergencies- but it really freaked you out that he felt the need to use it at this point.

“ Drew don’t” you pleaded as he leaned up , reaching for the zipper to the door.

“ princess I need to see what it is” he replied looking back at you. You shook your head frantically tugging on his arm.

“ what if it’s a bear?” You replied.

“ we’ll I’d at least want to be prepared and not be stuck in the tent” he stated. You really didn’t want him to go out there but you knew Drew was stubborn to an extent and would probably go anyways.

“ Drew, it’s not safe okay. We’ll just stay awake until whatever it is goes away “ he sat for a second, contemplating. “ please I’m begging you Drew” he sighed before scooting back , wrapping you up in the blanket.

“ fine princess” he said . “ go back to sleep I’ll stay up” . You laid down next to him, while he rubbed his hand over your thigh , quickly putting you to sleep.

***

You woke up to the sound of bird chirping, and the sun shining through the side of the tent . You stretched slightly before leaning over , to see Drew asleep with the flashlight still turned on. You grinned before leaning down and giving him a kiss on the lips.

“Drew wake up” you said pushing slightly on his shoulders .

“ hmm?” He groggily replied , looking over at you.

“ we’ve gotta start loading stuff up in the car “ you relied. It didn’t take him long to get up , helping you grab a few things before getting up out of the tent.

“ oh wow” you exclaimed, noticing the massive bear tracks along side your tent and the fire place. Drew stared at the paw prints for a second before looking at you grinning.

“ Drew you realize you were going to be battling a full from bear if you would’ve went out there last night?” You replied in shock.

“ and you saved me from being that stupid so thank you” he said kissing your lips before going back to the tent, rolling up the sleeping bags.

It was quiet for the next hour as you and him both packed stuff up and walked back for a good mile to his truck, loading things up.

“ so” he said as you strapped yourself in.

“ so “ you responded looking up at him.

“ besides the bear fear last night, did you enjoy your trip” you grinned at him nodding.

“ I really really enjoyed it baby” you said leaning over to kiss him. “ and I enjoyed the sex” you laughed out.

“ oh yeah?” He responded raising an eyebrow. You grinned before sitting back in your chair.

“ want to have one last hoorah before we leave the woods?” He said, leaning towards you.

“ oh Drew” you responded before unbuckling yourself, leaning towards him.

********

As usual, feedback greatly appreciated ❤️

#drew starkey #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey imagine #obx #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #obx fiction #smut #drew starkey dirty imagine #drew starkey smut #Rafe Cameron dirty imagine #obx smut #obx dirty imagine #obx smut fan fiction

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fanfic-me-up · 5 years ago

Text

Best Part || Kaminari Denki x Reader

“When we wake up and then we make love, it makes me feel so nice” Best Part - H.E.R ft. Daniel Caesar

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: 18+, morning sex, dom!Denki, praise kink

A/N: This is the first fic I’m releasing for my 1k follower event! Hope you enjoy! 😊 And shoutout to @unbreakableeiji for reading it over and reassuring me it’s not complete shit 😭

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You wake to sunlight dotting your vision. Taking your time to stretch against the sheets, you think this is infinitely more peaceful than the brash alarm every other day of the week. You smile at your husband, asleep, and with a bit of drool slipping down his chin.

Sunday is the best day of the week; when you can sleep in and forget about the troubles of the outside world. The only way Sundays could be ruined is if your husband gets an emergency call from work. But, what can ya do? You signed up for the hectic pro-hero life the moment you said “I do.” This is why you vow to savor every moment with him. You slide the ring on your finger that’s lying on your bedside table, sparkling an iridescent yellow-gold.

Your eyes flicker to appreciate what you have, more like who you have; taking it all in before the moment passes and it’s onto the next one. Sunlight caresses his electric locks, bathing him in a golden aura; you trace the outline of the lightning bolt striking his bangs. You lean forward, softly rubbing your nose against his and his own twitching in response. His eyes remain closed, soft snores continuing to fill the room. You pout before a devilish glint takes your face. Reaching under the sheets, you palm Denki’s already half-hardened cock. It only takes a couple of strokes to stand at full attention. An alluring motif graces your ears in the form of a deep groan. Denki shifts beneath the sheets, allowing you a better grip, but you don’t give him what he wants.

“What are ya doin’ to me, baby girl?” Denki mumbles into the pillow.

“Whatever do you mean?” You bite your lip to conceal the smile threatening to break through.

Golden orbs shoot open.

“You know exactly what I mean,” he growls.

“Good morning to you too, sunshine.”

You peck his lips, and when you pull away he makes sure to latch onto your bottom lip with his teeth, pulling you back in. You take your time languidly exploring each other’s mouths. Denki swipes his tongue across your lip and you open up for him, meeting him in a never-ending slow dance. It’s not long before he reaches down to circles his fingers lazily along your folds, juices flowing instantly at the touch. A breathless moan escapes you when he finds your clit, warming you up just right. You dig your foot into his hip, grinding against his fingers already drenched in your slick.

Denki stops his ministrations to show you the slick glistening his fingers, made even more obvious by the light. “Damn, baby girl, look how wet you are already and I’ve barely even touched you.” He brings a finger to his lips, eyes never leaving yours as his tongue swirls around the digit expertly. You flush at the inherent display of eroticism.

Hiding your face in the crook of his neck, you whine a muffled, “C’mon Denki…”

“No need to be shy, baby girl, it’s just you and me.”

“ ’m not shy…”

He breathes a quick laugh at how utterly untrue that is. “Then why don’t you come out of hiding?” You huff into his neck which he replies, “Please? For me?”

Crazy how he still manages to get you shy even though you’ve been married for five years and counting.

“You know,” he starts, “just because you can’t see me, doesn’t mean I can’t see you…” He shuffles awkwardly, “learned that from… ahem… personal experience…”

You twist your head so your eyes pop open to meet his. “Really?”

“There she is.” His eyes light up.

“Hey! I don’t appreciate being tricked,” you pout.

“Oh, I wasn’t lying. I used to hide behind poles thinking no one could see me.”

You don’t show a reaction of disbelief like a normal person would, already used to Denki and his… unique way of thinking.

“I was like… ten.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Okay, twelve. I was twelve. It made sense in my head, okay!?”

“Oh, I have no doubt about that,” you say.

He narrows his eyes, a dark look replacing his jovial one. “Turn around,” Denki commands, giving your ass a soft spank enough to make you jolt.

You know better than to argue.

He slides his cock against your folds, spreading your legs so the head rubs against your clit each time.

“Mmmm… baby…” you whimper. Denki elicits a soft gasp from you as he sucks at the sensitive spot on your neck. You’re dripping between your thighs, coating Denki’s cock enough that he could easily slip in.

“Lower your hips…fuck yeah… just like that,” he groans in appreciation, “good girl...”

The praise is not lost on you, body tingling at the approval.

Denki grips your hips, entering you from behind. You gasp at the delicious stretch; the right amount of pleasure and pain swirling in your nether regions. He takes his time sliding into you, making sure you feel every ridge of his thick cock, loving the way your walls clench around his girth.

You mewl at the absolute slowness, simultaneously loving and hating it. You dig your face into the covers as he rubs your pebbled nipple; and when he doesn’t move for a full minute, you wiggle your hips, desperate for just a fraction of the friction you were getting before.

“Shh… it’s okay. We got all the time in the world, baby girl.”

You bite your lip to keep from whimpering, but you’ve never been very good at keeping quiet. It’s rare for Denki to take things slow, it’s against his nature, and the one time you wanna take things fast, of course, he’d want to take his sweet time. Oh, the irony.

He plants a ray of kisses down your neck, and as much as you want to get on top and get this show on the road… you can tell he’s thoroughly enjoying the syrupy goodness of a Sunday morning. You twist your head to find a look of pure contentment on his face; you’d think he fell back asleep if it weren’t for the frustrating finger still toying with your nipple.

You thank the undeniable force that causes Denki to finally move. He does so slowly, not even thrusting properly all the way in and out. It’s a lazy rhythm of him slowly grinding his hips against yours. To make up for it, he slides his hand down to pay attention to your throbbing clit. It sets your body alight, an ignited spark ready to catch flame, setting fire to your entire being.

You moan his name, knowing that gets him going. As expected, he grunts in response, bucking his hips faster. He thrusts deep enough to hit the spot that makes you scream. “Ri-right there! Mmmm…fuck baby... right…” You close your eyes, surrendering yourself to the pleasure of Denki filling you up, of feeling whole, and to the heat squeezing you from the inside out, building and building and building...

“Yeah? Right. Here?” He punctuates with a hard thrust, mercilessly ripping a shout from your throat. “You like that, baby? You like me fucking you from behind like this? Filling you up so good you feel it for days?” He slaps your ass hard before palming gently.

“Say my name.” His voice ghosts the shell of your ear.

You only get the first syllable out before succumbing to the waves of pleasure wracking your body. Denki grabs you by the jaw, turning your face towards his. Your heart drums at the darkness shadowing his naturally light features. His eyes resemble a wicked golden-brown, only seen by you in these intimate moments.

Denki grips tighter, enough to display dominance, but not to actually hurt. “Say. It.” He’s thrusting just shy of the spot inside of you, and his fingers have stopped rubbing your clit, like he’s waiting for you to obey before giving you what you want.

You muster up the last of your breath to moan a soft, “Denki…”

He strokes your cheek, “Good girl.”

But the tender gesture is here just as it’s gone. Denki returns to the brutal thrusting and abuse of your clit. Your eyes roll back to the sudden onslaught of pleasure. This time he doesn’t stop until you’re on the brink, muscles tightening and sucking him in deeper than he thought possible. He groans at the tight heat engulfing the whole of his cock. It’s enough to hit him like a punch to the gut. He makes sure to sheath himself all the way in as he spills into you.

The satisfying warmth of Denki draining himself into you causes you to fall off the edge yourself. Denki continues to fuck into you (despite already finishing) helping you ride out your orgasm.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Denki praises as your body shakes from the strength of the orgasm. He stares in awe at the way your lashes flutter over your cheekbones, the way your body glows under the rising sun, the way you’re no longer in control, a nonsensical flow of words and moans streaming from your mouth. This is a release you need to start off your day, and Denki is more than happy to give you what you need. Denki makes sure you get off more than once, like fireworks setting off one after another, until you’re a writhing, oversensitive mess begging him to stop.

You both take a moment to catch your breath after your third and final orgasm. Denki’s still pressed against you, head tucked in the crook of your neck. You whimper when he pulls out, longing for him to stay, but also relieved to escape the blistering body heat.

Denki flops back to his side of the bed, completely sated, and an arm bent under his head. You curl up next to him (screw the body heat, you want cuddles!) as he wraps his other arm around you to stroke your back.

“Damn, babe, have I mentioned how much I love Sundays?” He looks down at you; his usual goofy smile returned.

“Oh, I don’t know, only a thousand times,” you smile. Not only has he said this in front of you, but the hero agency he works at also knows how much Denki loves Sundays and why he loves them, resulting in you and him getting into several long talks about oversharing and professionalism in the workplace. Uraraka assured you that he doesn’t go into explicit detail, mainly just gushing about how perfect you are, especially on Sundays “wink wink.” (Yep, you married a guy who actually uses the phrase “wink wink” instead of just winking.) You haven’t told Denki yet, but you secretly swoon. Despite your friends sending you joking texts on Sundays, Denki’s public displays of affection show he’s confident in his love for you, and you’d take that any day over someone who’s afraid or ashamed to be with you.

Grrrrrrrrrr

Your thoughts are interrupted by a stomach growl which isn’t yours. You raise an eyebrow at Denki who gives his best puppy-dog eyes. You already know what’s coming before he even opens his mouth.

“Pancakes?”

“Sounds good, babe, call me when they’re done.” You lay on your side with your back towards Denki, eyes closed like you’re going back to sleep. A minute passes before you hear shuffling and arms wrap around you.

“Please?”

You really shouldn’t give in. It’s settled that it's Denki’s turn to make breakfast this Sunday. Your mistake was looking back because you always find it hard to resist your husband’s tried and true puppy-dog eyes.

“Ugh. Fine.”

“Yessssss,” Denki hisses, a victory smile taking over as he makes himself more comfortable in bed.

You begrudgingly get out of bed when Denki sheepishly adds, “With chocolate chips?”

You grumble in agreeance, almost out the door when you’re stopped again.

“And whipped cream?”

“Don’t push it.”

“Sorry.”

He sinks into the covers all dejected that you can’t help but give in.

You’re in the middle of flipping a pancake while humming along to your favorite song when excited footsteps pitter patter across the kitchen floor.

“Looks good, hun, pancakes are for sure the best part of lazy Sundays!” Denki rubs his hands together, tongue swiping over his lips.

Uhm… did your husband really just rank pancakes over you?

“Excuse me? What about the mindblowing sex we just had, huh? Or the fact that you wouldn’t even have pancakes if it weren't for me?” You cross your arms to stop yourself from whacking your husband with the spatula currently in your hand.

He chuckles, wrapping his arms around you from behind, “You’re absolutely right.”

“I am?”

You’re taken aback. Usually, Denki would either run away or play along with your play fights so this tenderness is unexpected.

“Of course,” he kisses your temple, “You’re the best part. Forever and always.”

#kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #kaminari denki smut #bnha x reader #bnhabookclub #mha x reader #bnha smut #kaminari denki #denki kaminari #denki kaminari x reader #kaminari denki imagine #bnha imagine #mha imagine #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic

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cockasinthebird · 4 years ago

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So so so long ago, I told the dearest @opaldraws that I would write her a fic for her Instagram Steve au, which is one of my favourite aus because he so would have a huge following and post gorgeous lavish pics of himself with all that his parents’ money can buy, and I did start writing it! Only it took me, say, half a year or more to finish it??

So here you go! To Opal and every other reader, I hope you enjoy!

His oversized shirt a dusty rosa, fuzzy and just a bit too long in the sleeves, the neck of it slipping down to expose moles dotting one shoulder. Skinny jeans in a light denim hug his legs like they were sewn for him specifically, it’s a wonder to behold.

Steve is warm and cozy inside, lying down on a daybed, surrounded by pillows, posing in front of large windows peering out onto the frozen forest, barren and covered in snow. Hawkins is brutally cold during the winters; so unforgiving that the photo shoots they do outside are thankfully scarce, even though Steve would work himself sick with a cold.

If it wasn’t for Billy and his stern insistence, Steve would have gotten frostbite seven times already this winter daring to wear just too little for the sake of fashion and aesthetic. Anything for his 800k followers.

But all his adoring boyfriend can really do most of the time is stand behind the camera and appreciate all of Steve’s gorgeous self with an all too satisfied sigh, as Steve glances over his shoulder at the camera, lashes done up with just a gentle hint of mascara, hearts scattered like freckles across his nose and cheeks.

Valentines is two weeks away by now, and Steve wants to show off and inspire some date looks, soft and delicate and beautiful. He never does anything with his hair, really, everyone already so jealous of the phenomenal floof of it that he wouldn’t ever dream of changing it now - the pastel aesthetic and his hair is practically his entire brand!

He poses on his stomach with his legs bent, feet kicking in the air, sleeves pulled over his hands as he smiles coyly.

Then he’s on his side, chest turned towards the camera, one leg bent with an arm draped over it, face turned away to give the perfect profile.

And then he’s on his back, head hanging over the foot end of the daybed, hair just grazing the floor as he looks directly into the camera, eyes big and brown.

Just like Bambi, is the oft used comparison by Billy, and even if this is slightly boring, he can’t help but smile at how utterly beautiful his boyfriend is.

He stays kneeling there, even as he lowers the phone to meet with Steve’s gaze directly, and all the same, Steve stays hanging there, smiling at the way Billy stares with adoration.

“What?” he huffs incredulously.

Billy doesn’t find words to respond right away, he’s always more adept with action instead, and moves in to kiss those perfect lips, so soft and pink, both of them smiling into the embrace, Billy’s hands smoothing across Steve’s cheeks, careful as to not ruin the makeup.

“I just… love you,” Billy hums with closed eyes, not giving Steve time to miss him.

And Steve laughs again - a sound so blithe and full of joy it’s invigorating and humbling. He reaches up to run his fingers down Billy’s golden curls, raking painted nails across his scalp and tugs there gently till he receives a delighted groan.

At the parting of lips, Steve dives in with his tongue, meeting Billy’s in a lackadaisical sense that urges forth affable moans from both, heat surging up and down Steve’s splayed out shape with every salacious little noise.

“Mmmh, ah… are you- are you done?” Billy whispers, travels away from lips to kiss along Steve’s freshly shaved jawline.

There’s no immediate response as Steve stays still, enjoying the praising kisses like gentle butterflies. He eventually grabs Billy by the sides of his face to guide him away, letting their eyes meet, staying there for seconds too long, admiring the ocean view; crystal clear waters brimming with love.

“Just getting started,” he chuckles once more, but the intent of it this time far more salacious, and Billy’s quick to catch on to that.

Steve rolls around in a rush and gets up on all fours, back arched beautifully, the large sweater hanging loose off of him. He bats his lashes at Billy, who can’t help the insanely cheesy grin spreading from ear to ear, before reaching down to yank at the belt loops of Billy’s jeans, beckoning him to stand up.

And Billy would never dream of not giving his princess what he wants, getting up on his feet only to bring his half hard cock straight into Steve’s eyesight.

A pleased hum roams around Steve’s chest as he slowly undoes Billy’s belt, gazing up with a sly little smirk as he pops free the button and lets the zipper run loose. When fingers curl around the denim to pull down his pants, Billy himself grabs the hem of his shirt and throws it over his head and away, never-minding where it might land since literally nothing else matters right now other than the way Steve’s licking his lips.

“Look so good for me, sweetheart,” Billy coos and gently pushes away the few locks that obscures Steve’s pretty face. “Gorgeous.”

He knows that that’s all Steve wants to hear - that he’s pretty and beautiful and gorgeous and attractive and desired, and Billy knows that flattery will get him everywhere, but even if he sought no boon, he’d still spend every single day of his life praising his boyfriend endlessly, and he plans on doing just that till there’s no more breath in his lungs.

But right now it proves most helpful in urging Steve on, leading him to run his open mouth along the thick outline of Billy’s trapped cock, tongue out to wet the fabric of his black trunks, up to the tip where he nibbles with lips around the head, lapping at where pre cum stains.

The euphoric sensation can be heard in Billy’s stuttering breath, seen in the manner his abs twitch with restraint, felt by the hand tugging in dark locks of hair.

Steve teases the elastic band of Billy’s underwear as he moves further up, dipping his fingers in and running them around the waist, lips just inches above to kiss the warm and taut skin. At an all too torturous pace he pulls down the fabric just enough to expose Billy’s flushed and steely cock, Steve’s lustful gaze following a throbbing vein from the shiny head to the waxed base.

He leans in to press his nose against the fresh skin, inhaling the musky scent deeply, planting wet kisses on every inch within reach, and finally wraps his fingers around Billy’s all too eager erection, the blushing bride nail-polish pairing well with the red of his hard cock.

“Stevie…” Billy breathes his name reverently, filled with lust and devotion, hands petting soft hair.

And Steve gazes up through his lashes at the amorous whisper of his name, taking in how intently Billy watches his every movement. Eyes locked together like this, Steve slips out his tongue to wet his lips till they’re shiny and slick with spit, then presses it flat against the side of Billy’s girthy cock, licking the entire length of it, all the while admiring how his boyfriend gasps and moans at the sight of a most salacious display.

“Fuck, baby,” his voice airy with anticipation.

The hand around him squeezes gently and he can’t help the inevitable thrust as his body seeks more friction. Just so, Steve can’t help the self-satisfied and amused little hum either, mouth vibrating against the veiny shaft, which only worsens the situation for Billy even more as he practically whines,

“Shit, pretty boy, please.”

“Well…” Steve muses and runs the tip of his tongue over Billy’s leaking slit, slow and agonizing, treasuring the salty taste of him. “You did say please.”

He slathers up his lips with spit before closing them around the blunt head, pressing it up against his palate as he sinks all the way down to the base, sloppy in the way he massages every inch of hard flesh with his tongue, eyes fluttering closed as Billy reaches the back of his throat.

Steve revels in every single sound Billy let’s out, the drawn out notes of pleasure.

“God, ahh…”

With hollow cheeks he moves back to the head, tongue swirling around like he’s enjoying a lollipop, fingers back around the now shiny shaft to stroke all of his length that isn’t inside Steve’s mouth. Fast then slow, the pressure perfected in a way that proves just how often he’s done this. He drinks up every spurt of pre, twisting and turning his head in tact with his hand, allowing the occasional thrusts Billy can’t hold back.

Until fingers pull at his hair; hard and earnest enough to make Steve stop and move off, looking up at Billy with red and shiny lips, well used and oh so pretty, oh so enticing. He lets himself be guided up on his knees, meeting Billy where he bends over to kiss him, hungrily tasting how exquisite his own pre and Steve’s spit mixes sweetly together, thumb smoothing over his cheeks and down to drag at Steve’s chin, opening up his mouth to let Billy lick into his heat, suck on his tongue and lightly nibble at his swollen lip.

“Fuck, sweetcheeks,” Billy breathes out and presses their foreheads together, “I wanna cum in you so bad.”

A delighted hum bubbles forth from Steve’s chest and out through the warmest smile any one human can manage, and oh how pleasant it sounds when he says, “Go get the lube, then.”

Billy kisses his forehead once, twice, thrice before awkwardly waddling towards the doorway, struggling to step out of his jeans, then whipping around so fast his mullet snaps in the air.

“Don’t… get undressed without me…” he says most ardently with a raised finger for emphasis.

And before Steve even gets to answer, Billy’s pantsless; hurrying through the hallway, heading for the stairs and leaving behind a trail of his boxers and socks. It’s nice to know how comfortable he is here in Steve’s house, no parents around, no siblings or kids. Just the two of them in solitude together.

He can be heard upstairs, running with heavy feet from the stairs and into Steve’s bedroom, to the bedside table where he finds the bottle immediately, then runs back the same way he came from, till he’s standing once more in the doorway to the conservatory, in such record time he should maybe consider joining the track team come summer.

Slightly affected by running, he breathes out heavily, “Now… do continue…”

Steve’s smile goes wide, feels it burn in his cheeks as he leans down to yank off his socks, balls them up together and throws them at where Billy stands and receives a laugh in return of that.

“You’re impossible,” he says lowly and with a slight roll of the eyes, but Steve’s quick to bring a finger up to his lips and make a shushing sound.

Next the zipper runs free and Steve sits back down on the daybed to pull the skinny jeans off in a rather awkward manner, almost as if he’s vaguely refusing to give Billy exactly what he wants, but it seems inevitable when Steve then gathers his legs closed, the oversized knit sweater pooling slightly around where he’s seated, giving the illusion that he’s wearing nothing else, a shoulder still peeking out.

Billy’s gaze travels up Steve’s bare legs to where moles vanish beneath the rosa fabric, and when their eyes meet, heat clashes together between them with unspoken intentions.

Steve only breaks eye contact to look down at where Billy now starts slowly stroking himself, and he bites his lip at the sight of it, veiny and wet, electric lust coursing through him and down. Down to where he’s been oh so needy and hard for far too long now. And as he leans back, supporting himself with one hand on the daybed, he reaches for the hemline of his sweater, keeps his lip caught between teeth, eyes heavy and sensual as he watches Billy licking his lips in anticipation.

So simple in truth, when Steve lifts up his shirt just enough to give Billy a clear view of his lengthy dick, the outline of it perfect in white briefs, a wet spot forming at the head. Even from here Steve can hear the way Billy’s breath shudders, can hear how he pants and exhales.

“God, Bambi, what’d I ever do to deserve you?”

That gentle praise is all Steve needs, to be told he’s something to be deserved, something holy maybe, cherished and desired to a point where people can’t function. It’s like magic, and it works all those wonders, too, as proven by how Steve spreads his legs and lifts the shirt even higher, up and up till he pulls it over his head, ruffling his hair, but that doesn’t matter right now.

All that matters is Steve giving Billy what he wants, and Billy giving Steve what he needs.

Billy approaches him slowly, suddenly not finding urgency of importance, to then kneel before Steve like one would at a shrine. Kissing firmly with devotion he travels up the inside of pale thighs, giving attention to every mole in his path till he’s met with the leg of white trunks.

Much to Steve’s irritation, Billy skips right past the entire area covered still in cloth, and continues from where the elastic waistband hugs tightly, kissing his way across Steve’s abs, his pecs, collarbone, neck, chin, and instinctively Steve lets his mouth slip open as Billy’s tongue glides across his lower lip before dipping into a sweet and ardent kiss.

In the same moment of such pure infatuation as is found in between their lips, Billy’s fingers hook themselves on the border of Steve’s trunks, whom in turn lifts up his ass to allow for the elastic band to smoothly slip past and down his thighs, his wettened dick hitting his stomach with a lucid slap.

Billy breaks away for them both to gasp for air, to look down at where Steve is drenched in pre.

“So wet for me, princess,” he drawls alluringly, bringing one hand to wrap his fingers gently around Steve’s hardened flesh.

“Mmhm, fuck, Billy…” Steve coos in tact with the slow stroking of his cock, fighting the urge to thrust into the temperate fist, each jerk sending sparks up his spine, causing his thighs to shake.

And Billy kisses the euphoric furrow between Steve’s brows, his flushed cheeks, the moles there, his jaw, down the slope of his neck to bury his nose in the crook and inhales the lingering scent from his honey body wash.

Steve’s head falls back with whines and whimpers at the near lackadaisical stroking, far too little friction, agonizing, lovely. He tilts his head aside and brings a hand up to guide Billy till their lips meet, sloppy and loose kisses as Steve whispers most pathetically,

“Please, don’t tease me like this, Billy, I need you…”

“Then let me take care of you,” says Billy as he leans away to meet with Steve’s gaze, who nods with a sigh.

It’s a bit of a mess really, getting comfortable on the daybed that’s barely long enough for one adult to lay there, then with a billion pillows as well that spill onto the floor as Steve shoves them away to lay down flat against the cushioned seating. There’s limbs everywhere and a near kick to Billy’s face as they settle with him kneeling between Steve’s legs, but it’s all with a good laugh and wide smiles as nothing can truly deter their drive to be brought together like this.

“So gorgeous like this, sweet stuff, all for me,” Billy drawls, voice thick with how possessive he truly is.

Steve’s thighs fall further apart at that; how easy he is when subjected to Billy’s heated gaze that promises him everything, that lustful tongue that swipes across his lips, the hand smoothly slipping down the inside of his thigh, palm heavy and burning, inching closer and closer to where Steve is suddenly so starved.

The lube that gets drizzled onto Billy’s fingers is cold when pressed against Steve’s entrance, sending a wave of goosebumps up his thighs, eliciting a little shocked inhale from above.

“Cold?” Billy asks with a well humoured huff as he looks up.

“Cold,” Steve says like it’s an important statement, yet he can’t help but to smile at the way Billy chuckles lightly.

And when Billy kisses Steve’s inner thigh all apologetic, he can only hum pleasantly, and when the tip of a digit goes in, moan. He drops his head back and onto a pillow as Billy continues to move his finger deeper and deeper, down to the knuckle just to pull out again without pause, setting a gentle and slow pace of thrusting his middle finger in and out of Steve’s lubed up, clenching hole.

“Mmh, ahh,” Steve breathes out loud as he melts like butter, mixing with the way Billy kisses soothingly up and down his thigh.

It doesn’t take long before Billy’s confident that Steve can take another digit, and is proven right with the, “Yes, God,” that spills from parted lips with a satisfied sigh. Billy loves watching how easily his fingers slide in and out, loves listening to the moans that grow louder when he curls the two fingers inside, loves feeling how Steve’s body tightens around him whenever he finds that bundle of nerves and presses against it. How Steve’s entire body writhes in the pleasure of it, moving to seek more, as if he’s in charge here.

“Please,” he pleads.

“That feel good?” Billy asks with a smug grin pressed against soft skin, looking up in hopes of catching how Steve’s face crumbles as he begs.

The answer is a short, airy, “Yes,” as if longer words would steal from his moaning and keening.

He doesn’t get a third finger before Billy’s already lubing his girthy cock up, because he knows how Steve wants it; how he loves the slight burn as his body stretches around his boyfriend’s width. And in true fashion of that, Steve gasps almost ecstatically as Billy lines up the tip of his fat prick with Steve’s clenching, tight hole.

“God, please, yes Billy-” he rambles out until Billy starts pushing in and his words are abruptly discontinued to instead allow a loud and euphoric moan freedom.

Billy inches closer and closer as he stays on his knees, the daybed just the perfect height for such a salacious affair, like it was bought subconsciously for a good and thorough fucking. And lucky for them how alone and quiet it is out here, for surely everyone in Hawkins would hear how vocal Steve is when he gets pounded in bed, how he can’t shut up even now as Billy’s just about bottoming out, groaning at how Steve clenches hungrily around the base of his cock.

How beautifully Steve’s back arches as his body trembles, a hand up to grasp at Billy’s shoulder, his face buried in brown hair and soft pillows, from where he pants breathlessly as he adjusts to the welcome intrusion.

It’s all too tempting to just bend down and kiss up along Steve’s pale stomach, lick a heavy tongue across perky nipples that can be felt in the way his body twitches and his breath stutters, nibble gently at his jaw once more, before whispering out,

“You fit me so well, Bambi, like your body was made for me to love.”

At that, Steve turns his head to catch the awe and adoration in those crystal clear eyes, but as Billy pulls out just to thrust back in, his eyes screw shut with exhilaration once more, a loud, “Fuck,” escaping.

Billy grunts as he speeds up to feed the urgent need they both give voice to. But it’s not enough. Not enough until Billy climbs onto the plushy bench, pushing Steve up higher till they’re both fully up on the daybed with those long legs tied around tan hips.

With an iron grip on the frame above Steve’s head, Billy uses the leverage to slam into his boyfriend’s craving hole, skin growing sweaty as it slaps together between them, his other hand down by a hip to guide their bodies together.

Between curses Billy can’t help to let out sweet honey, too, “God you’re so good to me, baby, sounding like an angel choir when I fuck you like this.”

Steve’s hands both immediately land on either side of Billy’s head and pull him into a kiss brimming with love and desire. “I love you,” he speaks softly, like it’s his most cherished truth, “I love you Billy.”

And Billy can’t help the chuckle that brushes against Steve’s lips between kisses, as hearing this still shocks him, even after years of dating and having sex. It’s astonishing that someone this beautiful and magnificent can’t love a beast like himself.

He curls around Steve; wrapping both his arms around his back as he draws them both nearer, balanced together on the far too small daybed that creaks beneath their shared weight.

“Love how strong you are,” Steve whispers as he kisses Billy’s temple, his hand brushing through golden locks. It’s almost impressive how sturdy his words seem when he’s an otherwise whining mess of ecstasy and blithe curses. “Love how good you feel inside of me, ah-”

Billy keeps his nose pressed against Steve’s neck, breathing in how appetising sweat and body-wash mixes. Every single word pushes him closer to the edge, makes his hips buck and dick pulsate.

“I’m close,” he murmurs between kisses.

“M-me too, oh fuck, please, harder,” it spills from delicious lips and into Billy’s ear.

And who is he not to oblige such obscene pleas. With his knees firmly planted on the cushions, and at a pace that will leave him sore tomorrow, Billy gives his most beloved all that he can, the blunt head of his cock near bullying that golden bundle of nerves buried deep inside of Steve, who in turn can only cry blissfully.

It doesn’t take long before he’s cumming loud and ruthlessly, covering them both in hot white, his entire body tensing up to a point where he’s ardently milking Billy’s cock for all it’s worth, as he cums shortly after with groans and thrusts that slaps so hard it leaves Steve’s cheeks red with abuse.

It’s a short moment filled with warm explosions like fireworks as he pumps his remaining energy deep inside of his boyfriend’s ass, hugging him dearly till there’s no other sound that their laboured breaths.

Moments pass before Steve’s the first one to speak,

“I’m gonna be so sore in an hour after this.”

“Promise I’ll kiss it better,” Billy chuckles out and kisses Steve’s shoulder.

“You better,” comes the response and they both laugh joyfully at that, because yes, Billy is absolutely going to make Steve feel all better again soon.

#Harringrove #My Writing #Lemon #Do we still do that?#Also on AO3 #Is it obvious I stopped then came back to this?#I do worry so

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gretavanbitch · 4 years ago

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Tangled up in blue 6-

Warnings- drinking, smoking, smut

Note- Hi loves, I just want to say thank you for all of the kind reception to this story. I am so glad you are enjoying it, and I hope you like the new chapter! also asks are open for imagines about any of the boys.

The warmth of the bonfire surrounded the group, illuminating their faces with light. Penny sat close to Josh, a blanket wrapping around both of them. The night was midway through, hours of the usual alcohol related antics had long passed now there was a quiet calmness in the group.

Both Penny and Josh. sit criss cross applesauce, Josh’s head leaning on Penny’s shoulder as they listened to Jake tell a story. He was describing the time that Sam made a bong in high-school ceramics. Giddy laughter shook Josh’s body, bittersweet memories of youth unfolding with the night.

“He tried to convince Mrs. Reid that it was a watering can,” Jake chuckled, leaning back into his chair as he spoke. Penny smiled, imagining the trouble that the band got into as teenagers, and wishing she was there to see it herself. The remains of her tequila soda were floating around at the bottom of her cup, her third tequila soda that night. Both her and Josh had three drinks, a substantial buzz enveloping them both.

“Hey Pen,” Josh spoke in a hushed whisper, his head still on her shoulder and eyes toward the fire.

“Hey babe,” She whispered back, kissing the top of his head after she did.

“Gimme some lovin,” he sighed, lifting his head and meeting her eyes before meeting her lips in a sweet kiss. His scent overwhelmed her senses, causing the light of the fire and the sounds of the group disappearing completely. The only thing that existed was him, and he was the only thing that mattered. Whenever he touched her, she melted. Whenever he spoke, she listened. And whenever he left, she broke. He was her world, and she could only hope that she was his.

A gust of cool air sent a chill down Penny’s spine, reminding her that getting lost in her mind would only distract her from the important things. Like the beautiful soul next to her.

“wanna go watch a movie?” Josh asked, nudging his nose against Penny’s softly. Penny hummed in response, reaching for his hand as he offered it to help her up from the seat. They muttered goodnights to everybody before making their exit up to the bedroom.

When they reached the room, Josh flicked on the bedside lights and grabbed his laptop from the bag. Penny pulled down the blankets on the bed and patted the spot next to her softly. She was still wearing Josh’s grey hoodie and boxers, and he was wearing a white shirt and grey sweatpants.

The white duvet cover ruffled slightly as Josh placed the laptop in his lap, clicking on the netflix tab.

“Watcha wanna watch baby?” he asked. Penny sighed, nuzzling her head into the crook of his arm, wrapping her hands around his waist.

“twilight, this is the perfect place to watch twilight,” Penny concluded, getting excited with her own idea. Josh chuckled, but clicked on the movie anyways.

“anything for you, Pen,” He then pulled the blonde closer to him, resting his head on top of hers.

After about 20 minutes of the movie, Josh’s eyes began to flutter closed, as his chest rose and fell steadily.

“Hey Josh?” Penny spoke, just above a whisper.

“mm?” he mumbled, half asleep.

“do you ever see us settling down? like kids, and a dog, and a nice house, yanno?” Josh was more awake now, thinking deeply. Penny’s hand drew mindless circles on his stomach, her cheek resting against his chest.

“I dunno, i’ve never been one for domesticity,” he thought “but I would do anything for you.”

“Aw Joshie, you going soft for me?” Penny teased, craning her neck up to jut her lips out at Josh. He rolled his eyes, chest shaking with his low chuckles. The dim light of the computer screen illuminated his face just enough to outline his face perfectly. He looked down at her through his lashes, smiling softly.

“No, I just love you Pen,” He smiled, pulling her frame completely onto his chest, moving the laptop to the side as he did.

“I love you too Josh,” Then she kissed him, running her fingers through his curls lightly. He smiled against her, pulling her chest closer to him. His hands ran over her waist and down to her butt, squeezing it lightly. Penny moved her legs over his frame to straddle him, running her tongue against his bottom lip as she did. This elicited a sigh from Josh, his erection growing under Penny’s core.

After a few minutes, she pulled back momentarily, peeling her hoodie off to reveal her bare chest. Josh caught his lip between his teeth, eyes half closed and darkened with lust.

“you’re so pretty, baby,” Penny sighed, running her hands down his jaw. Josh just groaned in response, pulling her back in for a heated kiss. She then removed his shirt, and peppered kisses down his collarbone, biting softly as she did. He sighed, running his hands through her slightly messy hair. The sounds of the rest of the band outside the window could still be heard, but they felt a million miles away.

An idea then popped into Penny’s head and she smiled a devilish grin as she got on her knees next to Josh’s frame. He raised his eyebrows, running his hand down her back lovingly as she got comfortable on her knees. Her eyes met his as she palmed him through his sweat pants, his breathing hitching in his throat in reaction. His eyes fluttered shut with a smile on his face. She bit her lip, pulling his member out of his boxers. Her mouth salivated at the sight of him. He was perfect, longer than you would expect and thicker too. She thumbed over his tip, gathering precum as she did. He sighed, taking his own lip in his teeth.

She then licked a stripe up his length, wrapping her hand around his base. Her tongue swirled around his tip before her lips wrapped fully around him, slowly lowering her head. Josh let out a whimper, holding her hair softly as she began to bob. After a few minutes Josh’s breathing became more eratic and his hips began to jut up, causing Penny to gag a few times.

“fuck baby stop,” he moaned, “I need to be in you.”

Penny grinned, removing herself off of him. Josh immediately and aggressively crashed his lips against hers, gripping her hips tightly. He then ran a few fingers through her heat, inserting two.

“mm so wet for me, mama.”

Josh then flipped Penny over so he was now hovering over her. He kissed her nose softly, pushing her hair behind her ear. So beautiful, he thought. He removed her boxers, softly running his hands down the dips of her hips. Every part of her was perfect. The stretch marks that ran down her hips, the beauty marks that decorated her face, and his favorite part, her smile. The way that her lips curled up just enough to reveal her teeth was his favorite sight in the whole world. To him, she was his world.

He kissed down her breasts, stopping to appreciate each one. She hummed in response, smiling and running her hands through his hair. He then lined himself up at her entrance, pausing momentarily to tease her clit with his tip, eliciting a gasp from her. He met her lips once more, pushing himself into her deeply. They moaned in unison, her nails tracing down his back harshly. He started with a steady pace. Her chin was tilted to the sky and his head was buried in the crook of her neck, both panting and whining.

“look at me baby,” Penny cried, getting closer to reaching her own peak. He rasped a groan, meeting her eyes. Her eyes were half shut, closing occasionally with a particularly deep thrust. Penny’s vision then became blurry, legs shaking, and a string of profanities falling out of her lips as she came. Josh followed suit only seconds later, moaning loudly and collapsing onto penny.

For a few minutes the only sounds to be heard in the room were Josh and Penny’s heavy breathing and the light wind outside the window. Josh lay on his stomach, arms wrapped around Penny’s frame. She played with his hair softly as his breathing became slower, lulling him to sleep. She followed suit soon after, welcoming the serenity of sleep next to Josh’s warm frame.

Streams of golden light ran wild through Josh’s hair. The breeze from the open window jostled the curtains softly, causing a chill to run down Penny’s exposed chest. She yawned quietly, prying Josh’s arms off of her frame. Her bare feet padded against the floor, picking up one of Josh’s white shirts and her boxers from last night.

She brushed her teeth and washed the makeup that she neglected to remove last night from her face. The cold wood of the stairs creaked softly under her feet as she made her way to the kitchen. She could hear the sound of voices as she rounded the corner, yawning once again.

“Well well well, look who it is,” Sam smiled into his coffee cup from his seat at the counter. Penny laughed, flipping him off as she poured two cups of coffee.

Jake and Sam shared a knowing glance for a moment before Jake spoke, “did you have a good night last night?” he snorted into his coffee.

“It was fine, why?” Penny asked absentmindedly stirring cream into Josh’s coffee.

“oh nothing, you should just be the singer on our new album, you got some pipes,” Sam laughed. Penny’s eyes bugged out of her head and her hand clamped over her mouth.

“oh shit,” she laughed. Just as the laughter was dying down, she heard the pattering of footsteps down the stairs. Josh emerged in his boxers, head a fluffy mess. He rubbed his eyes as he sat down on the stool next to penny, thanking her for the coffee with a kiss on the cheek.

“what’s so funny guys,” he questioned as everyone, including Penny giggled quietly.

“Josh, everyone heard us last night,” Penny laughed, rubbing her temples.

Josh leaned back, hands up against his head and a proud grin on his face. “whoops,” he smiled. Penny just shook her head, smiling and slightly embarrassed. The morning progressed into a slow and lazy tempo, breakfast taking them an hour to finish eating. The group was now haphazardly lounging in the living room, Scarface playing on the TV. Josh was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch with penny’s head on his lap. Jake and Danny shared the couch, while Sam was out picking up the girls at the airport. Penny was excited to finally have some more feminine energy in the group. Carly, Emily, and Dana were all going to be joining them on tour for another week and a half then they all would be returning to work, including Penny. Her heart ached at the thought of leaving Josh again, but she hoped to document as much of it as she could through her lens.

Halfway through the movie, Penny needed a smoke. She grabbed her pack and headed towards the back door. The soft pattering of rain sent a chill down her spine, causing her to wrap her arms around her frame. Josh was inside, totally engrossed in the film, and she was okay that he wasn’t joining her. She needed just a moment alone, a moment of quiet. Once she returned to Nashville, she would be alone again. There would be no beautiful mornings of golden sunlight shining on Josh’s face, or quick kisses while he cooked dinner. What is the point of living if you aren’t with the one you need? No, she couldn’t think like that. She was more than Josh’s girlfriend and she knew it. She was an artist and so was he, but sometimes it’s hard to get motivation outside of the beauty of love. She crushed her smoke in the ashtray and opened the sliding door, feeling slightly unsettled by her thoughts. The only aspect of comfort coming from the knowledge that the girls would be here soon, she could talk to them.

Lunch arrived with homemade sandwiches by Danny. Everyone was eating and talking loudly, enjoying eachothers company when Sam finally made his way back to the house with the girls. She could barely get out a word before Carly enveloped her in a huge bear hug. She laughed, squeeking out a greeting before hugging both Dana and Emily very tightly as well. Everyone said their hello’s before the girls found their way to their designated boy, the soft lull of romance filling the air.

Josh smiled into Penny’s hair as they watched the couples bathe in each other’s presence. She sat on his lap at the dining room table, leaning back into him with his arms wrapped around her. When it reached two in the afternoon, the boys began to prepare for the show that night, gathering special picks and tamborines up.

The boys would be heading to the venue a few hours earlier than the girls, not wanting them to have to sit around while they do soundcheck and work on mechanical aspects of the show. Penny was grateful of this, knowing she could use some girl time right now.

“I’ll see you in a few hours,” Penny smiled, kissing Josh sweetly as he hugged her goodbye.

“I’ll text you for outfit advice,” he winked as he made his way out to the car that would take them to the venue, leaving the girls with the rental. The girls agreed to spend a few hours alone in their own rooms, most of them were still jet lagged and needed a good nap. When it hit six, everyone slowly emerged from their rooms, makeup bags in hand.

“alright bitches,” Carly spoke, putting her hands firmly on her hips, “let’s pregame and talk shit.” Everyone yelled out in agreeance, gathering their makeup and drinks of choice to gather in the living room.

“So ms Penny,” Dana began “things seem to be getting pretty serious with Josh.” She wiggled her eyebrows as she primed her face. Penny smiled, spraying her face with rosewater.

“yeah I think we are,” She responded, forming her lips into a thin line as she rubbed product into her skin.

“well, I support it. You both look really happy,” Emily smiled, patting Penny’s knee softly.

“thanks guys,” Penny smiled. Her mind drifted for a moment, remembering the gaping trench in her gut. She remembered the fact that she simply cannot process leaving Josh for more than a day.

Silence filled the group for a few moments, everyone focused on their own makeup and drinks.

“I actually have something I wanted to ask you guys,” Penny sighed, placing her eyeshadow brush down harshly. They all nodded, waiting for her to continue speaking. “I go home next week, and well i’m terrified because last time I was alone I completely shut down,” Her eyes welled, she quickly dabbed the tears away, not wanting to ruin her makeup. “I feel like I don’t exist when Josh isn’t with me.”

She finally looked up to meet the faces of the other girls. Their faces were sympathetic, they stared at her like she was a hurt baby deer, helpless. Dana finally spoke up, breaking the silence.

“We all feel like that babe,” everyone nodded in unison, frowns on their faces, “It just gets easier with time, you have to find ways to distract yourself and grow comfortable with yourself.”

“yeah, and remember whenever they are on tour, all of us four are alone, so just give one of us a call and we’ll be there,” Emily said quietly, rubbing a hand down Penny’s back lovingly.

“thanks guys, seriously I love you all,” Penny chuckled, enveloping them all in a hug.

“We love you, now lets get drunk for real this time,” Carly responded, pouring everyone tequila shots.

GUYS! sorry for the delay on this chapter, I am hoping to update again this week! hope you liked it :)

#danny wagner #greta van fleet #greta van fic #jake kizka fic #josh kizka imagine #danny wagner fic #greta van meme #josh kiszka #josh kizka fic #sam kizka fic #the battle at garden's gate #greta van aesthetic #sam kiszka #highway tune #black smoke rising #strange horizons #fanfic

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years ago

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It Takes Me All the Way

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: This is my fic for my @starkerfestivals summer BINGO “flower shop au” square. The following idea hit me in the head a couple of days ago & I couldn’t let it go until the whole thing was written. Here’s my bingo card - if you see something on there you might want written, shoot me a message!!! Word Count: 11.5K Warnings: There’s a tiny bit of smut in here, but it’s me writing, so when is that not the case?

Summary:

'For the next half an hour, Peter learned about flower language and the subtle way to artfully layer flowers so the colors blended meaningfully together. Peter didn’t retain too much about the flowers themselves – they were beautiful and coordinated perfectly, but Tony out shone them all. He was obviously in his element; the simple way the information fell from his mouth spoke of years of study and tons of hands-on knowledge. Not only was the man smart, he had an eye for style and created little living masterpieces without much thought.

By the time Peter worked up the courage to make any sort of move, they were at the register, seconds away from a complete transaction. He was in too deep to let the spark between them go another time. Steeling himself for whatever might come, Peter took a deep breath and leapt. “Hey, before I go – would you like to go out with me sometime?"'

Or: the one where Tony's a florist and Peter kind of digs that.

Read on AO3 here.

----

After taking home the third, consecutive NCA Championship title, Peter craved a tame summer. Unlike the rest of his teammates, he had no dreams of furthering his cheerleading career by becoming a coach; while everyone else flocked to the NCA cheer champ coaching positions, Peter tried his hardest to create some distance between himself and the sport.

Of course, that was easier said than done when his very best friend was also a teammate. Since the day MJ pulled him off the gymnastics mat and thrust him not so gently into the world of cheer in seventh grade, Peter never looked back – not to gymnastics or the people he left behind. He didn’t naturally fit in with anyone, but with MJ by his side and an incredible amount of athleticism, high school passed by in a whirlwind of football games, competitions, and a rich education Peter clung to. Being smart was a way out of the conservative little town that would never accept the truth of who Peter truly was.

When Purdue became an option for the both of them, Peter immediately understood moving to Indiana was the next step in life’s adventure. It wasn’t the big city that he always imagined he’d escape to, but Peter couldn’t argue with a full ride academic scholarship and a spot earned on the cheer team. As a male with tumbling experience and a shocking amount of strength for his size, Peter didn’t have to wonder about his spot on the team – he’d been leading teams to competition wins for years. Stepping out of the narrow-minded world of Springfield, Missouri was the only thing that mattered; the ability to do what he wanted without worrying about where the money came from to do it – that was just a delightful bonus.

Despite the challenges of college athletics and a philosophy major, Peter managed to keep his close friendship with MJ. They’d been a stunting pair for ages and their similarities made it easy to not only be around each other but stay tight knit in their connection. Going through so many of the trials of growing up together, Peter didn’t know what life would be like without her. After coming out and receiving nothing but a hug and a shy “me too”, their bond was cemented – made permanent in a way that something shared tied one person to another.

Their undying friendship and ridiculous commitment to each other was how he found himself balls deep in wedding planning, instead of relaxing in the peace and quiet of his one-bedroom apartment, playing video games and reading all the books he didn’t get to crunch out during the busy school year. MJ didn’t even bother asking him to be her ‘man’ of honor – after popping the question to Darcy, she simply sent him a list of things to do and dove right in.

Between bachelorette parties, bridal showers, and the seemingly impossible hunt for the best bridesmaid’s dresses, Peter hadn’t spent more than a couple days of the break on his own. Though he loved the fuck out of MJ and her soon-to-be wife, he couldn’t wait for the wedding to come and go. A little peace and alone time was exactly what he needed.

Finally, after a week of long nights and last-minute errands, the big day was upon them. The beautiful ranch venue radiated with a rich sunshine, basking the place in a lucky sort of golden glow. Since he didn’t have to spend his entire morning trapped in a makeup chair, Peter got to enjoy the beautiful weather firsthand as he contributed to the set up and decorating. Aside from helping MJ get into the admittedly cool pant suit she planned to wear, Peter’s time was his own until an hour before the ceremony.

Grinning at the thought, Peter pulled out one of the reception hall chairs and sat down heavily. He relaxed into the comfortable wood, reaching up to run a hand through his formidable curls. They were sans gel at the moment; his fingers sailed through the silky strands with ease.

Peter wasn’t aware he closed his eyes until a loud clatter had them blinking open in surprise. Swiftly turning towards the noise, Peter stopped in his tracks at the sight in front of him.

A big gray vase was the source of the noise, there was no doubt about that the second Peter spotted it. What completely took his breath away, or maybe who, was the man holding said vase. Peter saw tanned arms that were toned to perfection right off the bat. It was obvious at first glance that the owner of those limbs worked outside with his hands frequently. The lithe muscles and glorious golden skin tone spoke more of manual work than physical exercise. With his eyes travelling up firm forearms and the swell of a built bicep, Peter noticed the man’s hair next. Tamed by a plain white dad hat, an abundance of unruly curls flipped under the edges of the brim and sides. Peter imagined a flowing head of dark brunette hair he could easily slip his fingers into the depths of.

As if the man knew Peter was staring, he turned towards Peter’s table, an intrigued look on his face. A face that, after taking in the rest of the stranger’s glorious beauty, didn’t seem fair. Well-kept facial hair outlined perfect lips pulled into a knowing smirk. Rich, honey-golden eyes were just visible under the brim of the man’s sweat-stained hat. They seemed to pierce Peter right in the chest, like their unblinking nature dug under his skin and saw everything he tried so desperately to hide. The feeling was unnerving yet so exhilarating all the same. Though he felt so very exposed, Peter wanted nothing more than to narrow the space and get to know the handsome stranger.

Luckily, his chance came a couple hours later.

To stop himself from shamelessly flirting, Peter hightailed it out of the reception hall the second he could, using a check up on MJ as a guise for his obvious escape. Most of his friends were exactly where he left them at the start of the morning – it was a marvel that anything got done when they all got together. After braving the makeup talk and putting out a few emotional fires, Peter’s reprieve came in the form of a man of honor errand.

With MJ’s credit card in hand, Peter made his way to the front of the building where the florist was waiting. He’d been so glad to get out of the bridal suite that he didn’t stop to think about the stranger and the beautiful floral arrangement that’d been in his hand or to make the connection between the two. For the second time that day, Peter tripped over himself when the man came into view. Now that an actual need to speak to him was in sight, Peter didn’t know if he could make his mouth work to take the chance.

Recognition was clear on the florist’s face – though they didn’t know one another, it was hard to forget the very long, very obvious stare Peter was caught in. Those utterly kissable lips were upturned, the pinch around the man’s eyes from the grin making him all the more attractive. Rolling his eyes at the thought (like he needed to be any more attractive), Peter tried to school his features and return the smile with one of his own.

“Hi! I’m Peter, MJ’s man of honor. She sent me to square up the bill for the flowers,” Peter said in greeting. As the space between them narrowed down, Peter nervously reached out, his free hand suddenly taking up the space between them.

A surprisingly soft hand slipped into his a moment later – the touch was firm and efficient, only lingering a second longer than usually appropriate. “Nice to meet you, Peter. Please let MJ know that I really enjoyed the challenge of the flower choices. Geraniums are hard to come by this late in the season.”

Pulling away, despite the desperate want to have the man’s hands all over him, Peter nodded in understanding – most of both MJ and Darcy’s choices were high maintenance and unique. The planning of every step along the way had been an absolute bear. “That’s MJ for you,” Peter agreed with a light chuckle. “We’ve been scrambling around the last week or so trying to get all the details right.”

There was a shared moment of silence where the two simply smiled at each other. The florist seemed just as lost as Peter, the joint look of discomfort and wonder more telling than any words ever could be. For Peter, each second that passed was a small gift he gluttonously got to unwrap until the magic was broken.

“It’s her big day, she should have what she wants,” Tony finally replied, the words and a red blush breaking the silence. “I like the unique stuff, anyway – keeps the job interesting.”

Without missing a beat, a paper invoice was thrust in his direction. “I took out the delivery fee from the total since I was in the area already.”

After that, it didn’t take more than a couple of minutes to complete the transaction – the florist worked swiftly, his fingers nimble and knowledgeable in every movement he made as he swiped MJ’s card and handed it quickly back to Peter. The brush of their fingers in the exchange seemed purposeful, though – especially with the smirk and red blush that followed.

Caught up in how brilliant the look was, Peter didn’t realize there was nothing keeping him there until the shuffling of feet brought the reality of the situation back with a vengeance. As much as he wanted to stay and chat, or ask for a number, or even a name, Peter knew the time wasn’t right. He already felt so caught up – actually having access to his preoccupation wouldn’t be good for his focus. It was MJ’s day; he owed it to her to keep his shit together and make every second of it the very best.

Looking up, Peter shot the other man a large grin before lifting a hand, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. “I better get back,” Peter started awkwardly, “but thank you – for helping make MJ’s day so beautiful.”

With a nod, the florist pocketed his phone and took off towards the parking lot. Peter watched him walk away just long enough to catch the glance over work-firm shoulders. Hazel and brown met for a moment before Peter forced himself to walk away – a large part of him wanted to sprint across the black top to stop the gorgeous man from leaving. Something in the pit of his chest was pulsing with life; the feeling was so foreign that Peter pushed it down and quickly ran in the opposite direction, instead.

Peter got back to the bridal suite in a wonky haze – so much so that he didn’t even realize he walked through the door until MJ’s voice broke through his rampaging thoughts. “Did you get everything squared away with Tony?”

Turning towards her, Peter tilted his head, a crease in his brow appearing in his confusion. “Tony?” Peter questioned as he made his way over to the big table in the center of the room to deposit both the invoice and MJ’s credit card.

“Tony – the florist. I sent you to pay the bill. Please tell me you didn’t get lost along the way.” MJ shot him a knowing look, her hazel eyes blazing with affection. “He was a great help these last couple of months – matching all the colors would’ve been impossible without him.”

His brain halted for a second, the organ doing nothing but processing the fact that his handsome stranger now had a name. Recalling the beautiful face, Peter figured the name Tony fit the man pretty perfectly. With that knowledge, it was quickly becoming obvious that his focus was already shot – Tony with toned arms and a delectably deep voice already took up space there, just waiting to distract Peter at the worst possible time.

Like that moment, where MJ was staring at him with growing concern, waiting for a simple yes or no to her easily answerable question. Peter shot her an embarrassed grin when he got himself back under control. Sheepishly, he reached up to run a hand through his hair. “All is well. He told me to tell you he enjoyed the challenge. Oh, and he nixed the delivery fee – said he was already in the area.” He tried to sound cool as he spoke, to not give his interest away. Yet he knew almost immediately he wasn’t successful – Peter heard his own excitement as the words bounced around in his ears.

“So it’s like that,” MJ said, looking at him much more critically now.

“Like what?” Peter shot back, refusing to look her directly in the eye. She already caught the scent – the second he gave her the satisfaction of seeing the truth in his eyes, Peter would never hear the end of it. Regardless of the very important fact that Peter, despite wanting to more than ever, didn’t even pursue the obvious and very mutual interest.

Instead of pushing, MJ surprisingly let a knowing smile overtake her face.

“I see you Peter Parker.”

Luckily, the hustle and bustle of pre-wedding preparations and nerves that were inescapable, swept the subject right off the table a moment later. Peter happily helped MJ make her finishing touches in preparation for finally meeting her wife at the end of the aisle. Getting so swept up in it all, Peter allowed himself to forget the hazel eyed man for the rest of the evening. MJ and Darcy looked so happy – it was hard to see passed anything other than their beaming smiles and the bright future waiting for them.

----

The next few weeks passed by in a flash. Peter finally got some time to himself and reveled in it, taking advantage of every second of solitary freedom he could purge himself on before his final season began. Movies, books, and his favorite video games were the only thing Peter allowed himself to think about (and Tony, so many of his thoughts were about the gorgeous florist). He even went as far as to bar MJ and Darcy from the apartment when they got back from their honeymoon – it was the least they could do after running him ragged with errands and things over the previous few months. The last thing he wanted to deal with was the bombardment of newly wed grossness; it’d been some time since Peter felt the luscious caress of love against his heart and soul – and jealousy just didn’t look good on him.

When his self-imposed isolation came to an end, Peter begrudgingly got back into a suitable routine. Though cheer practice was different without MJ there, Peter easily sunk back into the drills and full body workouts that came after an entire summer off on their own. Hayley, their coach extraordinaire, pushed them hard in the beginning – it was the best way to filter out those who wouldn’t make it when the season really got started and competition prep took over all of their lives.

Once his muscles got used to the severe beating he took on a daily basis, Peter was more than ready for the year to start. Football games and the atmosphere that came with being a Boiler were a lot of fun; and with his decreased workload as a fifth-year senior, Peter planned to enjoy the easy-going nature of spirit and poms and comradery before the teeth came out and everyone’s battle armor settled into place. When competition season started, the team’s overall atmosphere and driving motivations changed.

Of course, just when Peter thought things were going just the way they should, karma came around to prove him wrong. After a long practice the week before the semester started, one of their flyers fell from a stunt, completely unaware of her contact with the ground’s effect until someone on the other side of the mat screamed. The sight, when Peter allowed himself to look, turned his stomach – he’d never seen a dislocated hip in person before and hoped to never do so again.

After the trauma of having the paramedics all over their turf, the team was given a couple of days off to recuperate. Peter and the rest of the squad planned to take advantage of the freedom by visiting Macy, who ended up having to have emergency surgery to save both her leg and her life. Though he knew a bouquet of flowers wouldn’t change the fact that she would never be able to cheer ever again, Peter figured it was a nice touch and planned to have one made before heading to the hospital.

Googling the closest florist, Peter was surprised to find a shop so near to campus. Many of the businesses surrounding Purdue were food joints or bars that were guaranteed to get a lot of steady business during the semester and over the summer. He wondered, just for a moment, how such a random store managed to survive the college population.

It took one look at the place to understand why the shop fit exactly where it was. Instead of the old lady feel he assumed he’d find, Peter stepped in front of a large windowed building with intricate flower arrangements filling the visible shelves. On the far side of the door was a mural of the Purdue P surrounded by all types of flora. The word Stark’s was camouflaged within the swarm of vines and greenery throughout the painting. It was well done and in the perfect, eye-catching spot.

A small bell over the door rang as Peter walked through it – at least one of the cliches in his mind was accurate. Grinning at the thought, Peter let his legs carry him further into the store, his head on a swivel to look at all the beautiful foliage placed strategically from one wall to the other. Though he knew nothing of plants, Peter understood the art of drawing attention – he participated in a sport that perfected it. From the placement to the intrigue, whoever owned the shop knew exactly what to do to draw a person in.

Peter stopped his exploration when a recognizable voice echoed throughout the space – “I’ll be right with you.” Upon hearing the timber and depth that haunted Peter every night since MJ’s wedding, he almost turned around and walked right back out of the store. He wasn’t equipped for the gorgeous man and his distracting smile and eyes and shapely ass.

Before he could make his feet move or even think, Tony and his inarguable gorgeousness walked in through the back door. His hands were covered in dirty gloves, a newly potted plant in the crook of his elbow. A denim apron covered a plain white t-shirt and black jeans that peaked out the bottom. At the sight of him, Peter had to force himself to keep his mouth closed and the pace of his heart under control – much like the last time he enjoyed the view, Peter wanted to bound across the distance and intimately get to know the other man.

Met with a smile when their eyes locked, Peter reminded himself to remain calm and smile back, to actually act like a human person with thoughts and the ability to actually articulate them. He came in here for a reason, walking out of the store with anything but the arrangement he wanted to bring to the hospital was unacceptable.

Tony, upon recognizing him, took the first step towards intelligible conversation.

“Peter, right? It’s nice to see you in here! How’d the wedding go?”

Blushing at the familiarity, Peter dipped his head and took a deep breath, hoping to collect himself enough to actually reply back. “Hi, yes. Peter. It’s nice to see you, too. I was surprised to see a flower shop in the middle of college central, but your place seems to fit in really nicely. No wonder MJ was pulled in,” Peter said in reply, getting the words out all at once to make sure they all saw the light of day. “The wedding was beautiful. Both brides are blissfully happy, and your floral arrangements were the topic of several conversations I had that night. You do good work, Tony.”

Peter’s heart stopped when Tony tilted his head back into a laugh a moment later. How did someone look so sexy doing something so base? No matter what happened, Peter knew he’d never understand such a thing. To cover up his reaction, Peter added his own laugh to the mix – the sounds harmonious in the empty shop.

“Yeah, I’m sure my flowers were a hot topic of conversation, especially with those beautiful women in the room. Thanks for the kind words, though,” Tony mumbled through a laugh. As he spoke, Tony reached up to brush an errant curl from his forehead – without the hat, the hair on Tony’s head looked unruly and all over the place, untamed and absolutely beautiful. The move left the smallest remnant of dirt on his skin, the black flecks of soil like little calling cards with Peter’s name on them. His fingers itched to reach up and brush them away. Tony’s next words shook him of the thought – “What brings you in today?”

“One of my teammates fell and injured herself pretty severely. We, as a team, decided to rub in the fact that she’ll never join us on the mat again by visiting her now that she’s out of the ICU. I figured some pretty flowers might soften the blow,” Peter explained, coloring at the blunt honesty that trickled from his mouth.

Tony looked intrigued, the other man completely unfazed by Peter’s word choice and candid nature. “Must be a dangerous sport if you guys are nursing career ending injuries.” He signaled for Peter to follow him with a swift flick of his hand.

“I’ve seen some pretty intense injuries in my long cheerleading career, for sure. People flying through the air, and all that. I wouldn’t call the sport in general dangerous, per say – I’d say the expectations we have to meet are what’s dangerous. The look, the difficulty of the stunts we make our bodies do – it’s demanding,” Peter remarked, following a couple steps behind Tony as they walked.

“Sounds misogynistic as hell.”

Laughing at the truth of Tony’s statement, Peter nodded enthusiastically. His heart felt warm from the idea of the random stranger in front of him understanding his struggles better than May and Ben ever could. Tony didn’t know him, and yet Peter couldn’t remember ever feeling so seen. “Oh, it is. The beauty standards are unbelievable and if you’re a male in the cheer world, forget it – you’re fodder for mockery and intense judgement. I fit the stereotype and even I can’t catch a break.”

“What’s the stereotype?” Tony asked with a soft tilt of his head and curiousness in his eyes.

They stopped suddenly then – the space between them was narrowed down to a couple of feet with an abundance of plants surrounding them on both sides. If he took a step or two forward, Peter wouldn’t have too much trouble reaching out and touching Tony’s beautifully tanned skin like he so desperately wanted to. It took too much effort to stop himself from doing exactly that. How exhausting.

Without waiting another beat or giving himself another moment to eye kissable lips, Peter uttered the answer with subtle breathlessness – “Gay. Flaming homosexual is usually what people attribute to the men of the cheer world.”

Color travelled up Tony’s cheeks, his lips quirking ever so slightly. He took his time answering, the man obviously thinking through his reply before blurting whatever he had to say into the universe. “Huh. That’s interesting, considering football players don’t go a play without touching each other on the ass.” Tony stopped for a second, making sure to catch Peter’s eye. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” Peter answered immediately, the words coming out of his mouth without thought. “Its been my life since 7th grade.”

“I guess that’s all that matters, then,” Tony replied softly, a small, familiar smile on his lips. “Now back to your friend – what’s her favorite color?”

For the next half an hour, Peter learned about flower language and the subtle way to artfully layer flowers so the colors blended meaningfully together. Peter didn’t retain too much about the flowers themselves – they were beautiful and coordinated perfectly, but Tony out shone them all. He was obviously in his element; the simple way the information fell from his mouth spoke of years of study and tons of hands-on knowledge. Not only was the man smart, he had an eye for style and created little living masterpieces without much thought.

For what it was worth, the look of surprise that crossed over Tony’s face was brief. It made Peter’s breath catch in anticipation – for the first time in their short acquaintance, Peter felt uncertain. The feeling quickly passed, however; Tony’s face split into a beaming smile, the earlier surprise so easily replaced with seemingly genuine happiness.

“Yeah, I’d love to. I close up shop around 6 – are you free tonight?” Tony’s cheeks were stained with a rapidly darkening, gorgeous blush, hazel eyes shining.

Peter couldn’t remember what the next ten minutes entailed, let alone that evening – yet, whatever it was, he’d happily reschedule. There wasn’t a single thing that would stop him from saying yes to whatever Tony suggested. “I am. How about I meet you out front at 6:30? I’ll call Tasha and grab us a table for 7.”

Tony nodded, reaching across the counter towards Peter’s phone. “That sounds good. I’ll give you my number in case something changes. I’ve got a greenhouse out back and tend to forget myself. I sometimes lose track of time.”

Completely taken by every new thing he learned about Tony, Peter opened the phone and pushed it in Tony’s direction without hesitation. He didn’t expect the older man to be so forward – then again, Peter wasn’t all that surprised, either; Tony owned, operated, and supplied a successful business – he had to know what he was doing to some extent.

Watching with a delirious sort of haze, Peter followed as Tony’s fingers enter his number, then hit the green button to call himself. A phone on the back counter buzzed a couple of times before Tony ended the call and slid Peter’s phone back to him. “See you later, Peter. Tell your friend I wish her a speedy recovery.”

Numb hands grabbed the arrangement off the counter – Peter raised it towards Tony in a mock solute. “Until tonight, then.” Peter muttered the words excitedly. “Bye, Tony.”

He forced himself to keep his head down in hopes of actually making it out of the store. Peter wanted to turn around and look goofily at Tony – now that he knew his feelings were reciprocated, there was nothing stopping his desire from slipping out. Since the wedding, Peter forced the thought of strong arms and bright eyes from his head, just to be haunted by Tony’s beauty when he closed his eyes and let sleep take hold. His subconscious wasn’t on board with suppressing his urges – the fact that karma played a role made the rightness he felt even more valid.

Tony wanted him too.

His visit with Macy and the team was an immediate drag to his mood – the mix of emotions of the people surrounding their friend attempting to express sympathy was exhausting. Every person in the room feared Macy’s position in the bed. Some handled the anxiety better than others. The one bright spot of the visit, of course, was Tony’s arrangement. MJ immediately recognized the man’s work and winked at him knowingly. Peter didn’t stop a grin from slipping across his face; in their silent means of communication, the look was answer enough.

MJ corned him in the parking lot everyone dispersed to an appropriate amount of time later. When the room started to get too cloying, Peter made his excuses, prompting everyone to follow suit. There was only so much sad he could take – especially when a potential light in his dark tunnel shone so bright, waiting for him just hours away. They stopped at the trunk of Peter’s car, MJ leaning against the bumper like always. “Peter, spill. I haven’t seen that goofy look on your face since high school. Did something happen with Tony?”

Snorting at MJ’s impeccable awareness, Peter shifted until he could wrap his arm around her. He leaned his head against the side of MJ’s, closing his eyes. “Your florist is the best-looking man I’ve ever laid eyes on. I maturely held myself back at the wedding to be there with you in the moment and those karma points I banked were good to me today. I walked into Stark’s for some flowers for Macy and couldn’t bear to walk out without a chance to see him again.” Peter turned his head until he could press a kiss to her forehead. “We’re going out tonight.”

“I’m happy for you,” MJ said, her thin arms wrapping around him. “When I first met him, I thought you two might like each other. He’s older, a little weird, smart as hell – just your type.”

“I guess there’s a reason why you’re my best friend,” Peter quipped. “Seriously, though. Thank you – you always point me in the right direction. I really like him.”

MJ pulled back just enough to tap her forefinger against Peter’s nose – the move their sign of affection for years now. “Go get your man, Pete.”

----

To stop himself from pacing up and down the hall of his apartment, Peter went to the fitness center on campus – a hard workout with the weights was exactly what his body needed. Sweating and listening to a couple of playlists took Peter away from his thoughts of dinner later and into a mindset that let him just exist. It didn’t hurt that the pump in his arms looked amazing by the time he packed up and called it a day.

Timing it perfectly, Peter left himself an hour to get back to his apartment, shower, and decide on an outfit that didn’t shout desperate, but expressed his implicit interest, too. Not living too far from campus made it easy to fret about his clothes after a lengthy shower that took every ounce of Peter’s willpower to not masturbate anxiously. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to face the star of his fantasies head on after beating off to the thought of Tony’s tanned skin and gorgeous smile.

After a few restless passes through every piece in his closet, Peter took a large step back, attempting to clear his head. From what he already learned of the older man, Peter knew Tony looked flawless in anything – his style was basic, but the casual nature in which it was worn made the look stylish, anyway. Tasha’s restaurant wasn’t the fanciest place in the world and the pressing feeling of being comfortable in Tony’s presence made an outfit pop into Peter’s head after a couple of long breaths that helped to calm him down.

Peter slipped into his favorite dark wash jeans, smiling all the while – it seemed silly, the anxiety he danced with less than five minutes ago. He’d felt nothing but ease and excitement around Tony, getting himself prepared for a date with the man wasn’t as life and death as he let himself believe. Stressing over something that felt simple in every other way was a new feeling – Peter carried an abundance of confidence with him everywhere. The change made Peter believe whatever might happen with Tony was different and so much better than any other romantic dalliance he’d ever taken part in.

The outfit was finished with a couple small sprays of his favorite cologne – Peter only broke out the fancy stuff for special occasions. With a tug to his rolled shirt sleeve and the slightest adjustment of his collar, Peter took a deep breath and wandered across the room to stop in front of his mirror. His straight legged jeans were clasped at the waist with a black leather belt that cut Peter’s figure dramatically. Both muscular and trim, Peter went out of his way to make sure each attribute was highlighted appropriately. A white and blue stripped short sleeve button up wrapped around Peter’s firm biceps and tucked neatly into his waistband to highlight the narrowness of his hips.

Aside from the rogue curls Peter couldn’t tame, he felt good about the way he looked – the outfit and the confidence it made him feel would be a hit. Tony seemed to like the upfront and honest way he presented himself, there wasn’t any reason to change that now. Allowing himself one last look, Peter turned away from the mirror and made his last-minute preparations – he pocketed his wallet and keys and grabbed a jacket off the coat hook on his way out of the door.

It took less than five minutes to get to Tony’s shop – without the daily traffic on the road, the drive was easy. Pocketing that fact for another time, Peter climbed out of the car excitedly; for the first time in a while, Peter felt ready to date. Tony presented intrigue and want and a curiosity that Peter hoped to cling to for as long as possible. The simple fact that Peter already felt that way spoke volumes.

A door shutting brought Peter’s attention to the sidewalk in front of him. He expected to find Tony turned around to lock the front door of the shop, yet the older man was closing a door on the side of the building instead. Even more interested now, Peter started to head in that direction.

“I live in a huge loft above the shop,” Tony said with a knowing tone, answering Peter’s unspoken question without any sort of hesitation. “When I first bought the building, a storefront wasn’t what I initially had in mind. After I opened up the shop, it made the most sense.” Tony continued to speak as he closed the distance between them.

A soft pair of lips were pressed lightly against Peter’s cheek before he could think, let alone reply. Peter felt his cheeks and neck light up with a heated flush, his body temperature skyrocketing. Tony’s next words only added to the feeling – “You look amazing, Peter.”

Swallowing his awkwardness, Peter smiled in Tony’s direction, finally taking the man in front of him fully. Tony’s legs were encased in charcoal grey jeans that were rolled twice at the cuff. The edges sat nicely against a pair of black and white vans. The tanned arms Peter hadn’t been able to stop thinking about were on display – Tony’s short sleeve button up was perfectly tight against a trim chest and firm shoulders. Other than the stubble Peter figured Tony always had, the man’s cheeks were smooth – highlighting how gorgeous the florist truly was. It didn’t hurt that their fashion senses were similar, either; Peter wondered for a moment where Tony got the floral shirt currently driving him crazy.

“You’re stunning,” Peter eventually managed to say, his breathy words finally breaking his minutes long silence. “You’ve looked great in every way I’ve seen you – covered in dirt, sweaty and working, dressed to impress – it’s kind of not fair, Tony.” Peter let the truth of what he just said sit transparently on his face. They were passed the point of coyness and subtlety; Peter wanted Tony to know he was wanted, even though they hadn’t known each other long.

His bluntness seemed to do the trick – Tony grinned widely in his direction, avoiding direct eye contact with Peter in obvious hope of getting himself back under control. “Charmer,” Tony muttered, stepping a little closer to Peter to emphasis his point.

After opening the passenger side door like the gentleman he was, Peter settled behind the wheel and onto the main road. Tasha was a former teammate, a senior his freshman year, that escaped to Paris – only to make her way back to Indiana and use the knowledge she gained in one of the cooking capitals of the world. Over the years, Silver became a regular place for Peter and the team to spend their classier nights. The food was amazing, and Tasha’s unique style made the minimalism the restaurant was known for interesting and thought provoking. When he called to make the reservation, Tasha cooed in Peter’s ear while saving his favorite table for 7.

They made easy small talk during the drive over – Peter described the pre-season workouts he’d been trucking through while Tony regaled him with a story of his last customer of the day who tried to steal roses by stuffing them down her shirt. As he listened and absorbed, Peter realized Tony was funny and full to the brim of wit – he laughed freely, the sound so joyful, Peter couldn’t help but join in. They were still chatting as the hostess led them to their table and set large menus before them.

Their drink orders were taken almost immediately – the serving staff was familiar with Peter and must’ve been tipped off before they got there. A bottle of red wine was set on the table before either of them could delve back into their previous conversation. Peter poured them each a glass, then pointed at the menu – “Did anything catch your eye?”

“I thought I’d go with the steak frites. Out of all the dishes on this extensive menu, that one immediately came to your mind. Seems like as good a reason as any to give them a try,” Tony reasoned, lifting the wine to his lips as he spoke. “What about you?”

Peter’s cheeks were already starting to hurt from the giddy smile he couldn’t help – talking and joking and simply being with Tony felt so natural. He didn’t have to think to reply casually to whatever they were talking about. “I get them every time I’m here. When Tasha first opened this place, she’d just lay dishes on the table when we sat down. I stopped being her menu taster when she introduced me to the steak frites. I haven’t had anything else here since,” Peter admitted, his cheeks flaming once again.

“You’re one of those people, huh?” Tony shot back, grinning all the while.

“One of those people?”

Tony grinned a little wider, his eyes shining with affectionate enjoyment. Before he replied, the older man slipped his hand across the table, taking Peter’s fingers lightly. “Yeah, one of those people. Someone that gets the same dish at every Chinese or Italian place they go to, no matter the options.” His thumb trailed over the back of Peter’s hand. “You like what you like.”

Feeling a little called out, Peter ducked his head to stop anymore redness from overtaking his skin – he probably resembled a tomato already. It was crazy – to feel so happy being teased. “Okay, yeah – I’m one of those people. I’ll try that one dish anywhere, though.”

They traded a few barbs back and forth until they ordered, and their dishes were sat down in front of them. Without the threat of interruptions in the near future, Peter felt ready to broach some of the more personal topics – for the first time on a date, Peter genuinely wanted to listen and find out more about the person across from him.

“So, tell me more about yourself – who is Tony Stark when not covered in dirt or up to his elbows in beautiful flowers?” Peter cut into his steak as he spoke, hoping the relaxed way he asked the question would take a little tension off Tony’s obligation to answer. The last thing he wanted to do was make their time together feel like an interrogation.

Tony didn’t seem to mind, though – he looked up with a tilt of his head. “What do you want to know? I’m shockingly not covered in dirt a lot of my time throughout the day.”

“How did your love for flowers start? Did you study horticulture in college?” Peter decided to ask.

Smiling lightly, Tony shifted in his seat, preparing himself for story time. “I studied Botany and Plant Pathology, actually. I have a doctorate in Plant Genetics and Soil and Water Sciences. During my plant genetics studies, I did some time abroad that took me to every continent – seeing the wide range of flora that exists in this world was the first time I ever thought about making plants and flowers a daily part of my life to the extent they are now.” Tony stopped to meaningfully catch Peter’s eyes.

“I used to be a professor at Purdue – when the restrictions of the lab became too much, I ditched the academic world and opened up the shop. I’ve been elbows deep in beautiful flowers ever since.” Tony winked in his direction, repeating his words jokingly back to him. “What about you? You cheer and charm unsuspecting old men, I know that. What else do you get up to?”

“You’re the only unsuspecting older guy I want to be charming, don’t you worry,” Peter reassured Tony with a soft chuckle. “When I’m not sweeping you off your feet, I study Philosophy and play a stupid amount of video games. Cheer and all that comes with it takes up a lot of my time, though. Most of my college life has revolved around football games and competitions.”

“Sweeping me off my feet – jeez, Pete,” Tony mumbled. His cheeks were red and the smile he wore spoke of happiness and enjoyment. “I took a couple of Philosophy classes during my undergrad days. What do you plan to do with an entire degree with it?”

A laugh slipped from Peter’s mouth at Tony’s question – though many people asked him that very same thing, no one presented it quite like Tony did. “You’d be surprised by what you can do with a Philosophy degree,” Peter retorted. “I want to be a bioethicist. My minor is Public Health – when I put my cheer shoes away for good, I hope to get a master’s in Bioethics and finally get into the realm I want to be in.”

Tony tilted his head then, his eyes roaming over Peter curiously. “What made you want to get into that? I’m sure there aren’t a lot of young bucks walking into higher education with their sights set on changing the medical world like that.”

Sucking in a long breath, Peter let the question sit on the air for a moment. He swirled the last of his wine in the glass before drinking it. “My parents were in a car accident a couple of days before my 10th birthday. My dad passed away immediately, but my mom – she hung on for an extra couple of days. There was a lot of internal bleeding that they were worried about. In all that worry, they didn’t wait for scan results or blood work to come back before they attempted a new, exploratory surgery. She didn’t make it back out of the operating room.”

Peter paused for a moment, catching his breath. “I was old enough to know someone fucked up and when I looked into it later, I decided I never wanted to let someone feel like I did in a crisis like that. There’s got to be someone who reviews the evidence and makes the ethically just decision to save someone’s life. Why shouldn’t it be me?”

For a second, Peter thought he went a little bit too far – there was a tense moment of silence that felt heavy after revealing something so personal. Peter bit into his bottom lip, not letting himself look up to see whatever reaction existed on Tony’s face. Then, a soft touch brushed across the back of Peter’s hand, Tony’s calloused fingers wrapping around his own. A brief squeeze had Peter looking up, his breath catching at the awe that met him. “I’m sorry to hear about your parents, Pete. Mine aren’t around anymore, either. It’s kind of cliché to say that you saw the deeper meaning of something so tragic, but it’s true. You’re using your pain to make the world better. That’s good shit,” Tony said, his voice hinting at a note of finality – like nothing would change his mind of the thought.

His certainty made Peter feel light, the weight of his emotional burden finally lifting from him after so many years. What a difference it made, to be so easily understood.

That light and airy feeling followed Peter throughout the rest of the evening – he smiled widely as Tony talked about his greenhouse while they shared a small chocolate tart between them. For all that his physical attraction was worth, Peter was genuinely surprised to realize that he felt a personal connection to the florist, too. They led different lives but shared enough similarities to make the time spent together more than worth it. Peter liked Tony and from the looks and subtle touches Tony bestowed upon him all evening, Peter figured Tony might like him, too.

Tony proved that thought to be true when they pulled up in front of his place – “Do you want to come up? I had a really nice time tonight and don’t want it to end.” Tony’s words were said through a saucy smile, his intention more than clear in the look in his eyes.

Peter didn’t hesitate to give his answer – leaning forward, he gripped the side of Tony’s cheeks, using his hold as leverage to pull Tony a little closer. They met in the middle, their lips pressing together softly.

----

Things progressed pretty quickly from there. Tony led Peter up a small flight of stairs into an open room. As expected, plants and flowers were scattered around the place, covering all of the flat surfaces with adequate enough sunlight. A comfortable looking couch and kitchen table took up one corner of the room while a large, king-sized bed took up the rest of the free space of the room. There wasn’t much clutter and all of the things that Tony had, he more than likely used. It was simple and perfect, much like the person who resided there.

Tony didn’t let Peter take in the room for too long – before he could walk around and snoop, Tony’s arms were around Peter’s hips, pulling him close. Peter eagerly met Tony in the middle, their lips sealing together in the delicious slide of tongue and teeth and wet, panted breath. As the kisses deepened and their bodies moved closer to each other, Peter started to impatiently thumb at Tony’s buttons, his palms and fingers running over every inch of bare skin he revealed to the cold air. Tony followed suit; his movements much more impatient than Peter’s were. By the time they made it over to the bed, Tony was pulling down Peter’s pants and boxer briefs. He gladly joined Tony in nakedness before climbing onto the inviting mattress.

“Holy shit, this is comfortable,” Peter babbled absentmindedly, his limbs stretching as far as they could go.

“It’s the one thing I refuse to compromise on. I want to be comfortable when I partake in all the activities a bed is good for,” Tony replied as he climbed onto the bed and fit himself between Peter’s legs. “You’ll be even more impressed in the morning,”

For a while after that, there weren’t any words exchanged. Peter kept his mouth busy by pressing kisses into Tony’s neck and upper chest – Tony’s cologne was prominent, pulling Peter in the more he breathed the delicious smell in. Tony let Peter riddle his skin with marks and spit while he ran his hands all over Peter’s skin. Their hips were lined up and with every thrust Peter made up, Tony rolled his hips down until their cocks brushed delightfully. They were both so caught up in each other that nothing but touching and experiencing actually mattered.

It’d been so long for Peter that he found himself coming to a breathless crescendo fast. After a few minutes of passively letting Peter kiss him, Tony took control of things – his hips set the tempo and his hands and lips laid down the distraction. So overwhelmed from it all, Peter wasn’t aware of how close he was until his orgasm slammed into him out of nowhere. “Oh fuck, Tony! I’m – I’m going to come,” Peter panted out, his body thrumming with life and want and a desire he couldn’t hold back.

“Oh, Tony!” Peter practically screamed a moment later – Tony dirtily rolled his hips to toss him deliciously over the edge.

Panted breath filled the room as Peter rode the high of his orgasm. Tony placed tiny, teasing kisses against any part of Peter’s skin he could reach. Reaching down, Peter gripped the sides of Tony’s face until they were looking at each other – Tony met his eyes with a self-satisfied smirk. “How good is your turnaround time?”

Laughing, Peter leaned forward to give Tony a kiss. His cock was already starting to fill out again – having Tony so close set his body on fire. “Ten minutes at the max,” Peter mumbled after a moment of cataloging his heavy limbs and the desire that was rampaging through them.

“Good. Then you’ll have plenty of time to prep me before you fuck me.”

Lost in the words for a moment, Peter was immobile until Tony tapped his side with a cold lube bottle to get his attention. “You want me to fuck you?” Peter dumbly asked, his mind still trying to catch up.

“Yeah, Pete. I want to feel you inside of me. Your body is trim and fit – I can only imagine how good you’re going to fuck me,” Tony admitted without shame. He moved out of the splay of Peter’s thighs, climbing to his hands and knees, instead.

Not wanting to lose his chance, Peter launched himself into action. He ran his hands over the planes of Tony’s sides and back, tracing the small scars and tiny moles scattered across pale skin. His fingers were eager to categorize and map, but his impatience was too great. Tony pressed back into him, as if he too was starting to feel anxious for what was coming next.

Uncapping the lube, Peter drizzled a good amount onto two of his fingers, pausing just long enough to warm the slick to body temperature. When he felt ready, Peter pressed the tips of both his fingers to Tony’s eagerly waiting hole, tracing and circling the muscle to spread the lube and relax the man he was touching. Little by little, his first finger slipped in without much resistance. Tony bared down against him and let the digit slip all the way in until the webbing of Peter’s finger stopped him.

Now that the warm heat was wrapped around him, Peter wanted to take his time, letting Tony get used to the feeling while he explored and reached. Tony’s entire body jolted forward when Peter finally found that delicate nub.

“Shit – do that again!” Tony shouted; his voice laced with a breathy moan.

Unable to do anything but give into what they both wanted, Peter continued his ministrations, teasing Tony with one, two, and then three fingers. He scissored and pressed against the edge of Tony’s rim, loosening the muscle as he went. When he pressed inside, Peter caressed Tony’s insides, just barely pressing against his prostate until Tony was humping back with exaggerated impatience.

“I’m good, Pete. I’m good. Please, I want you,” Tony pleaded as he reached back and felt around for whatever lenght of Peter’s skin he could reach.

Completely hard once again, Peter was more than ready to feel Tony wrapped around him – after an easy orgasm already, Peter knew he’d be able to make their coupling worth it. Opening the tube of lube again, Peter drizzled more of it directly onto the length of his cock, and then a bit more around Tony’s rim. He stroked himself a couple of times, then shifted until the head of his cock could drag through the lube coating Tony’s skin.

He teased them both for a moment, tracing Tony’s rim with the wet head of his cock to ramp up that initial moment of anticipation. Peter kept up his antics until his own body couldn’t take it any longer – every part of him craved the warm embrace of Tony’s hole. With that thought in mind, Peter used one of his hands to grip Tony’s hip, using his hold to pull the other man back against him as he thrust forward. Breaching the muscle felt like coming home – he threw his head back with a rough groan; maybe he wouldn’t last as long as he initially thought.

“Tony, Tony, Tony – you feel fucking amazing,” Peter panted through clenched teeth, his body fighting hard against the need to thrust forward and take, take, take.

Tony reached back to grab at Peter’s hand on his hip to tangle their fingers together, instead. They shared a few breaths while Tony got used to the stretch of Peter within him, the mere connection between them radiating a different sort of heat while they waited.

Finally, Peter felt Tony relax around him enough for his hips to draw back and press forward without much effort. He kept his thrusts slow to start; his cock was throbbing from the realization that it was Tony below him – picking up the pace was a sure-fire way to end things a lot quicker than either of them wanted. When Tony started to thrust back against him, however, Peter lost more and more of his control. His hips snapped forward, their skin slapping together to make a loud sound that echoed around the room. With every thrust in, Tony moved with him – the tip of Peter’s cock was poised to press perfectly against Tony’s prostate every time.

Between the sounds dripping from Tony’s mouth and the delightful squeeze around his length, Peter was a few thrusts away from slipping over the edge once more. He tried to shift so he could wrap his fingers around Tony’s cock to get him there too, but he was met with a long stare over Tony’s shoulder – dark hazel eyes were on fire, pushing him to thrust harder and forget everything else. Tony’s body was taut, obviously strung out and seconds away from breaking apart. Finally understanding, Peter straightened out his chest, gripped Tony’s hips in both hands, and let himself go.

In the end, it was hard to decide who tumbled over the edge first. Tony shouted Peter’s name and tightened impossibly tight around him. The extra stimulus was the perfect thing to bring the heat in Peter’s belly to an overflowing boiling point. He tucked his head into the sweaty length of Tony’s neck and groaned, Tony’s name and fuck and unintelligible noises added to the symphony their joining created around the room.

Managing to just barely turn Tony as his body collapsed, Peter hit the mattress hard – his cock slipped out of the blissful heat, dragging a long groan from the depth of Peter’s chest. Being inside of Tony already felt like home; both his body and his heart were convinced. Wrapping his arm around Tony’s hip to compensate, Peter snuggled into the man’s sweaty back, keeping their bodies close.

“I – Tony. That was…” Peter started to mutter, his brain still not back online like the rest of him. Tony looked over his shoulder, affection and appreciation alive in the hazel of his eyes. They shared a heated stare as Tony pulled Peter’s hand more firmly across his chest – they didn’t need words in that moment, merely touching and existing in the same orbit was more than enough.

----

After that first passionate night, Peter spent almost all of his free time with Tony. With the shop being so close to campus, it was easy to lean on Tony’s close proximity and the joyful happiness Peter felt whenever they were together. The natural way their lives just sort of combined with each other proved how right they were for each other. Where others were wrapped up in the time Peter spent away from them, Tony enjoyed the fact that they led separate lives. Peter got to keep cheerleading and Tony at the same time without the two battling against each other. He didn’t know it before Tony came into his life, but that level of acceptance was everything Peter needed from another person to both excel and feel happiness.

Before Peter knew it, four months were behind them – though it hadn’t been that long, most of Peter’s things took up space in Tony’s apartment and every thought Peter had revolved around the life he was trying to create with the older man. He even took the time to learn more about Tony’s body of work – they spent many of their afternoons together in the backyard with Tony working the greenhouse while Peter practiced tumbling or simply watched his boyfriend in his element. Peter couldn’t recall another person making him feel so dumbfounded playing in the dirt the way Tony did – it wouldn’t matter what the man did, either; Peter would find something to be amazed about.

It was Tony that drew him in; his personality, thoughts, and the eager way he gave back to Peter spoke to a part of himself that he never knew existed.

Which was how he found himself nervously awaiting Tony’s arrival at the Purdue football stadium – aside from MJ and Darcy, Tony’s appearance at the football game would be the first time any of his friends met the older man. The fall, much like Peter, was a busy time of the year for Tony. Between weddings, showers, and parties, Tony’s weekends were filled to the brim. The homecoming game was the first game that the home schedule actually lined up with Tony’s off day. He couldn’t wait for Tony to watch him do the thing he loved in the uniform he felt proud to wear. Selfishly, he wanted to see that same sort of pride radiating from the person he’d fallen in love with.

The forty minutes they were trapped in the locker room before the game started felt like torture – his phone vibrated against his thigh a couple of minutes after they headed in from warm-ups. Tony was navigating the stadium’s security to get to the sideline spot Peter secured for him. When they walked back onto the field, Tony would be there eagerly waiting for him.

Finally, the performance lights flickered, and they were ushered to their usual entrance. The large black and gold flag he carried in his hands was lighter than usual – his excitement pumped through him, the dopamine of happiness causing a rush of energy. As the announcer pumped up the crowd, Peter caught the eyes of his teammates around him, sharing the hype he felt.

Running across the thick white lines never felt better – by the time he crossed center field, Peter caught sight of Tony in the corner. His boyfriend was clapping loudly, the honey-hazel of his eyes glued to Peter’s every move. The familiar feeling that Tony’s love created in him spread through Peter’s chest, showing itself off as a giant, beaming smile.

They didn’t get much of a chance to talk throughout the first half of the game – Peter’s stunt group was responsible for the spirit stuff for the first and second quarter. Instead, Peter sent Tony messages with his eyes, showing off his skills and tumbling talents whenever he could. It was almost better that way – Tony got to experience Peter in his element without any pressure to respond. The crowd going wild around them only added to the experience. For once, Peter got to put on the show.

When Peter got to wander off after the half-time performance, he was wrapped up in a bear-hug the second Tony could get his arms around him. Peter was covered in sweat and glitter and the annoying little turf beads that always stuck to his skin, but Tony didn’t seem to care. The older man picked him up, spinning him around excitedly. “Pete, you’re so talented. I about shit my pants when you back flipped for so long down the field, but damn – the skill you possess,” Tony gushed, tucking his face into Peter’s neck to calm himself down.

Not wanting to lose the upbeat energy, Peter cupped Tony’s cheeks in both of his hands. Tony leaned into the touch, tilting his head back to look at him. “I’m so happy you’re here,” Peter started, leaning forward to steal a quick kiss. “I’ve been on point all day because of you. I can feel you watching me – I want to be good for you.” The last words were whispered in his ear, the impact of them hitting Peter hard across his lower back as Tony wrapped him up and pulled him close.

“You’re the only thing I see,” Tony mumbled back, his tone all the sudden low and gravelly.

After leaning in to give Tony a heated kiss, Peter forced himself to pull back – he stepped out of Tony’s embrace completely. If he stayed there any longer, he wouldn’t make it back to the locker room at all. Smirking in Tony’s direction, Peter thrust his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ve got to go, or I’ll never leave. See you after?”

“I’ll meet you out front,” Tony said with a nod, his anxious hands reaching out to squeeze Peter’s hand once more. “Keep kicking ass, Pete.”

His role during the third and fourth quarter was a lot more passive than the first half of the game. Since the Boilers were up more than two touchdowns, a lot of the crowd left after the first few minutes of the third quarter – that meant the younger stunters and less experienced tumblers got to have some time on the field. To stop himself from straying over towards Tony, Peter put all of his effort into helping his littles. It didn’t work nearly as well as he figured it might, but he got through the rest of the game with minimal distraction.

Hayley’s speech was inspirational and moving like usual – they were done with football home games for the season and their success was obvious and highlighted in her moving words. The next couple of months of the season were the calm before the storm and they were all looking forward to the small break basketball games posed for them. Competition season started after the holidays and no rest would be spared. Though he always appreciated her words, Peter wished for them to quickly come to an end.

Before he even finished the thought, Hayley was circling them up, calling out the cheer that they all echoed back. As he shifted to move out of the circle, a firm grip stopped him. “I believe this is for you,” Hayley said, handing over a classic red rose.

“Hayley, who’s this from?” Peter asked, trying his best to tamper down the hope that maybe Tony was the stupidly romantic culprit.

With a knowing smile, Hayley shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, “He said you’d know.”

Pulling the rose to his chest, Peter ducked his nose to sniff at the crisp petals. It was de-thorned and freshly cut – Tony’s markers were all over the beautiful gesture. His cheeks were already sore from all the beaming he’d been doing all night, the face splitting smile only made it worse. Despite that, Peter wore it throughout his post-game routine and out the door where he ran directly into MJ.

“MJ! What are you doing here?” Peter threw his arms around her then, careful not to crush the flower still in his hand.

Thin arms returned the hug – MJ brought him tightly to her chest with a hard squeeze. It’d been a few weeks since they’d seen each other. Seeing her standing there, Peter realized it’d been too long.

“I couldn’t miss homecoming. I am an alumna after all,” MJ replied, her wide eyes never leaving him. Watching her closely, Peter felt a gasp leave his lips when she brought another classic red rose up, running the flower under her nose. “This needed delivering, too.”

Peter gripped the rose lightly, tucking it against the other one in his hand. Each of the petals were perfect and from the small lessons he got from Tony whenever they handled the clipped flowers, Peter knew what the giving of classic red roses meant. It only seemed right that Tony clued him in that way.

“Don’t fuck this up, Peter. I really like him, too,” MJ remarked as she moved in to press a soft kiss on his cheek. He kept her close for a moment, simply soaking in her presence. “He’s waiting for you out front. Go get your man, Pete.”

A soft laugh left his lips, MJ said that to him when she first learned about his date with Tony. It wasn’t lost on him how full circle everything felt. The rightness of being with Tony existed in every aspect of his life – each little sign made the delirious heat in his chest burn that much brighter.

Giving MJ one more squeeze, Peter broke away to quickly make his way towards the front of the stadium where Tony was waiting for him. He wasn’t sure what he did to deserve such a sweet display of affection – Tony knew Peter appreciated the simple day to day life they were slowly creating with each other. At the same time, Peter’s heart was hammering in his chest at the thought that Tony deemed him worthy of such a gesture.

Peter found Tony leaning up against one of the large pillars just outside the exit doors. In the darkness, the honey color of his eye shone like melted pools of gold. Narrowing the distance between them became the only thing on Peter’s mind, he picked up his pace and practically threw himself in Tony’s arms.

The sigh along the length his neck made Peter tuck in a little tighter against Tony, his heart pounding with affection. He pulled back before the roses in his hand could get squished in the intensity of their embrace. Peter brought the flowers to his nose, keeping Tony’s eye as he did. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Peter sing-songed, grinning at the flush that spread over Tony’s cheeks with every word.

Tony nodded at him, tilting his head with a mischievous look of his own. “It looks like you’re missing one, though,” Tony remarked. The long stem in his hand was darker than the others, symbolizing love yet to be realized. Their fingers brushed as Peter took it, his brow quirked in intrigue.

“I love you, Pete. I’ve known since you walked through the door of my shop that you were special. Every second with you has made my life just a little bit better. I know it hasn’t been that long, but I’m mad about you. Over the fucking moon.” Tony walked into his space then, his hands cupping Peter’s cheeks.

Surging forward, Peter caught Tony’s lips in a passionate kiss, their noses bumping in the process. They sipped from each other’s mouths until the need to breath became pressing. Instead of pulling away, Peter leaned his forehead against Tony’s, closing his eyes to revel in the contentment that wrapped around them both. After a couple of shared breaths, Peter blinked to catch Tony’s eye. “I love you too, Tony,” Peter whispered back.

With a wide grin, Tony leaned in again, mumbling “I know” against Peter’s lips.

#starker #Peter Parker/Tony Stark #sfsummerbingo21 #bobbie writes #it takes me all the way #starker fic

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rhysismydaddy · 5 years ago

Text

Fanny Pack Sexiness (Nessian Smut)

Prompt: *sensually unclips fanny pack* this is weird, i know. but i just saw a tweet and i thought if anyone could write this, it would be you.

Laughed so hard when I read this. If this isn’t Nessian, I don’t know what is. NSFW warning because I do love a fanny pack moment ;)

_________________________________________________________

Nesta glared out the window, keeping her unspoken vow to not look over at the atrocity that was her boyfriend.

Well, that wasn’t not fair.

The boyfriend himself was actually pretty nice to look at.

Broad shoulders, a tall frame filled with meaty muscle, curly brown hair, and golden eyes made him interesting enough, she supposed.

But it was what the bastard had chosen to wear that had driven her insane all day.

The monstrosity was strapped around his waist currently, and she could’ve sworn it was laughing up at her.

Consider this the first and last time she would ever travel with him.

Because since it wasn’t obvious enough they were American, Cassian had chosen to wear a fanny pack. Over an I <3 LONDON shirt. Which he’d paired with khakis.

He looked like the cover of a tourist’s guide made for forty year-old, single men who lived with their mothers.

And she knew it was at least partly her fault he was dressed so stupidly, but she refused to apologize.

Last night, they’d been heading out to dinner, when she commented that almost always, he wore all black. Honestly, it wasn’t even a complaint, considering she was guilty of the same thing.

Why bother trying to put together prints and fabrics and colors, when black looked so nice on her?

Anyway. She hadn’t been complaining. Teasing, but not complaining.

But noooo. He’d immediately gotten that annoying, competitive look in his eyes that both made her smile and want to strangle him.

“What would you like me to wear, Nesta?” he’d asked, golden eyes practically glowing.

She’d sighed, probably making things worse. “I’m just saying, we look a little goth when we’re together.”

Cassian had just smiled down at her, then walked out of their room. She hadn’t thought any more of it when he’d slipped back in later that night, but then this morning, when he’d gotten dressed in the bathroom and opened the door with a flourish, she’d almost hit the floor.

He was not built for fanny packs and khakis.

He was built for... well, he was built to be naked all the time, but since that would probably get them sent back to the states, tight black shirts and jeans was a decent second option.

Plus, as if it weren’t bad enough already, he’d been adding to the ensemble all day, building up to the horrendous outfit she was currently avoiding looking at.

His faded combat boots had been replaced with flip flops. His hair was tucked under a very large hat with a Big Ben outline across the front. He’d even stopped to buy a fucking old-fashioned pipe from the William Blake exhibit they’d gone to see.

He was trying to drive her crazy.

But little did he know, she had a few tricks up her sleeve. After three years together, she knew how to drive him crazy, too.

So she’d plotted and schemed all day. And as they rode back to their hotel in the cab, it was finally time for it to come into play.

Trying to be discrete, she nodded at the driver.

Cassian’s eyes shot to her as the man slammed on the brakes. It had costed her twenty Euros, but seeing the look of shock on her boyfriend’s face was so worth it.

Especially as she shouted, “Drive him to the other side of the city and kick him out!”

And jumped from the cab.

It was still moving a little, but she’d been prepared and hit the ground at a run.

Manic laughter came out of her as Cassian turned around in the now-speeding cab, shouting something unintelligible back at her.

He wanted to dress like a tacky tourist and drive her crazy?

Fine.

She’d just have to show him what he was missing out on.

A little over an hour later, the door to their hotel room swung open, hitting the wall angrily.

“That asshole took me halfway to fucking Essex, then had the audacity to charge me for the ride. Next time you have someone kidnap me, at least pay the fee, woman! I swear-”

Whatever he was about to say lodged in his throat as he took a look at what she was wearing.

It was all new, and his eyes took in every piece of the wardrobe with a predatory gleam that sent her toes curling. But she acted unaffected, even as she bent down to fix the strap of her very high, very uncomfortable shoes.

“What’s going on?” he asked, voice rough.

Straightening, she shrugged and fluffed her hair. “I’m going to dinner.”

“You mean we’re going to dinner.”

Finally.

Nesta turned towards her boyfriend, enjoying the way his eyes dipped to the almost indecent amount of cleavage on display.

She traced her eyes over his entire rumpled, touristy outfit. “I’m not going in public with you while I look like this and you look like that.”

His eyes narrowed as he finally caught on to what she’d done. “I’ll change then.”

It was a struggle not to laugh. “Well, you seemed so intent on replacing your wardrobe, I figured I’d help you out and dumped your suitcase.”

That was a lie. It was safely hidden down at the front desk.

“You did what?”

Ignoring the question, she said, “You’re welcome. And since you can neither change nor go like that, I guess I’ll just see you later.”

Making her way to the door, she was abruptly stopped by a hand smacking into the wall closest to her, an arm now blocking her path. “Nesta Archeron, you are not going out looking like a goddamn supermodel while I sit here with my thumbs up my ass.”

“How you fill the alone time is irrelevant to me, Cassian.”

His other hand made its way to the wall, too, caging her in.

“I know you wouldn’t throw my clothes out. Where are they? Tell me, and we’ll go to dinner.”

She shrugged, resolve to keep the secret building by the second.

She was aware they were both a little competitive, but she didn’t care. She was winning this, one way or the other. He’d admit he’d been wrong to dress like an idiot today, then--and only then--she’d give him his clothes back.

“I know what you’re doing,” he told her, the tone of his voice proving that it was working.

He was suddenly so close she couldn’t think about anything else.

Even dressed in head to toe tacky, he somehow managed to suck all the air out of her lungs.

One hand turned his hat backwards so the brim wouldn’t poke her, and he leaned in close enough to run his nose down her neck.

“Tell me, Nesta.”

“No.”

His teeth nipped at her skin, and she shivered. “Do I need to fuck it out of you?”

Gods, yes. Please.

That hadn’t been her plan at all, but her body was more than on board with it.

Except there was a bit of a problem.

“You are not fucking me with a fanny pack on, hate to break it to you.”

Cassian pulled back far enough to wink at her, then his mouth was on hers, dominating her in the way that she’d only ever let him do. He pressed her against the wall, chest tight against hers, as he slipped his tongue in her mouth.

Hands on her waist lifted her, and then she was being thrown halfway across the room onto the neatly-made bed.

Propping herself up on her elbows, she glared over at him.

“I was being serious, Cassian. You’re not getting any while you’re dressed like Uncle Sam.”

He swaggered over to the foot of the bed, the comment not at all impacting his confidence.

“Allow me to remedy the problem then, princess.”

The hat’s the first to go, and it was a relief to see his unruly hair finally free. She heard the slap of his flip flops on the floor and figured he kicked them off, too. Cassian tugged the horrible, bright yellow “I <3 LONDON” shirt over his head, then stared at her, eyes narrowed.

“I’m keeping the fanny pack.”

It was adorable how wrong he was.

Raising an eyebrow, Nesta leaned back and let her thighs fall open, keying him into the fact that she’d somehow forgotten to put on underwear tonight.

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t move to take off the damn pack.

So she ran a manicured nail over her bottom lip, then slipped it in her mouth and sucked on it. She was pretty sure Cassian was about to pass out as she released it with a pop, then brought it between her legs.

“Nesta.”

“Hmm?” she responded, the sound drawn out and breathy as she pushed the finger inside herself.

“I like the fanny pack.” He sounded so sad, it was almost comical. Like a kid on Christmas who’d just been told Santa hadn’t come.

Too bad.

“Then stand there and watch.”

Oh, he did. His eyes were intent on her hands, both the one between her legs and the other that made it’s way to her breast.

She rolled a nipple between her fingers and groaned, and he leaned down to fist the sheets at the end of the bed in his hands. “Fuck.”

Nesta refused to give first. Absolutely refused.

And she knew what it would take for him to give in. So she added another finger, back arching off the bed, and worked herself until she was so close she couldn’t stay still.

His knuckles were white as he gripped the comforter tight enough to threaten the strands, but it wasn’t that that forced him to lose their little battle.

It was the sight of her coming undone before him.

She moaned, and it might’ve been his name that fell from her lips, as release found her. When she heard the strangled, creative curse he let out, she knew she’d won.

Forcing her eyes open, she watched as he finally unhooked the fanny pack and let it drop to the floor.

It was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.

Cassian quickly kicked off his hideous khakis, then prowled up her body, dropping little love bights on her thighs, her hips, her breasts.

“That was so hot,” he groaned as he settled between her thighs, bracing himself on his elbows.

“That was the idea, idiot.”

He stopped for a moment, pulling back to give her a sour look. “I think I’m going to make you apologize for that.”

Before she could tell him there was a fat chance of that happening, he pushed into her. Nesta gasped, and his mouth was suddenly on hers, absorbing the sound.

After a brief moment to adjust, his hips grew rough against hers, the grip he had on them almost bruising, but she didn’t care.

“Fuck, Cass,” she groaned, arching into his touch as he drew little circles on the bundle of nerves between her legs.

He picked up speed, pounding into her so hard she started shifting up the bed until he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, keeping her in place.

Release started building up in her, and she could tell it would be almost too intense when it crested. But just before she got to find out, he slowed his rhythm, swirling his hips slowly against hers.

An indignant, hateful sound left her mouth, and he pulled back enough to smirk down at her.

“Say it,” he commanded, eyes like molten caramel as they watched her hips try to gain more friction. “Say you’re sorry, and I’ll give you what you want.”

“Fuck you,” she panted, barely resisting the urge to punch him. “You insufferable, arrogant bastard.”

“Not exactly what I want to hear, but close.”

A maddeningly slow circle of his hips had her regretting ever going out with him.

Another had her planning his murder.

Yet another had her cursing the day he was born.

“Say it, Nesta. You know you want to.” He dipped his head to kiss the base of her throat.

Her body was so strung out it was a miracle she didn’t burst into tears, but she somehow managed to hold off for another few minutes.

But then he grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head and all but growled, “Just fucking say it. Say it so I can fuck you like you deserve.”

And she was just desperate enough that she said, “I’m sorry I called you an idiot, you horrible asshole.”

He smiled down at her, and she glared. “Such beautiful words.”

“Cassian, I swear-”

The words became lost in her throat as he finally, finally started moving again, somehow harder and quicker than before.

Release immediately crashed into her, and she moaned as she drew tight around him.

“Good girl,” he murmured, and even though she currently hated him, the words just made the release that much sweeter.

Especially as he didn’t stop. Her body was trembling underneath his, but he kept going, even dipping his head to kiss his way down to her breasts.

His tongue swirled around the peak of one, and she groaned loudly as the wave inside her seemed to crash once more, leaving her scattered and broken in the aftermath.

Cassian finally followed her lead, collapsing on top of her and pressing her into the mattress below as he said her name in a helpless, loving sort of way.

Their breath was uncontrolled and loud, and it took a few minutes before either of them could speak.

Then he asked roughly, “Now, where’d you hide my shit?”

“Front desk,” she panted, pushing her hair off her forehead with a tired hand.

He drew back, looking over her partially-clothed body in a satisfied, male way that made her smile. “I really like that dress, in case it isn’t obvious. Want me to go change so we can eat something?”

Before she could respond, his mouth was at her ear, hot breath raising goosebumps across her skin. “Or do you just want to eat here?”

Suddenly, food was the last thing on her mind.

Her hands found their way to his hair as she drew him back down to her.

“Just get it tomorrow,” she murmured, lips finding his again. “And never wear that fanny pack again.”

_________________________________________________________

Like I said, I had WAY too much fun writing this hahaha. Kinda really loosely based on when Joey (Friends) went to London and dressed like a tourist :)

Tags: @sjm-things @santas-dwynwen @thebitchupstairs @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @highqueenofelfhame @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #nesta #nesta archeron #cassian #cassian x nesta #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #acowar #acofas #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #nesta x cassian #nesta x cassian fanfiction

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years ago

Note

10 tattoos/piercing, Danbrey, sfw, please!

Here you go! I based Dani's design on an arowana because I liked the color.

“Remember, non-scented soap, nice to meet you, byeee!” Aubrey waves to her client as they head down the boardwalk. She has thirty minutes until her next appointment, so it’s time to stretch her legs and check the little ‘doggy cam” she set up on Dr. Harris Bonkers cage to make sure the giant rabbit hasn’t finally managed to chew his way through the bars.

“Hi doctor” She coos into the phone. One white ear pivots towards the camera, but the bunny remains otherwise unmoved.

She leans on the railing, Pacfic sparkling like a postcard before her.

“Excuse me?”

“YEEEEP!” She jumps back, not expecting a woman to pop out of the water, let alone pop out and talk to her.

“Oops, sorry.” The other woman smiles, golden hair fanning out around her. There are two types of blondes in Long Beach; the ones hoping to be the next influencer sensation and the kind who are excited to tell you about GOOP and crystals.

Whichever kind this woman is, she’s the most gorgeous girl Aubrey’s ever seen.

“Um, can I help you?”

“Yeah! Can you tattoo me? A piercing would be okay too, but I really like how pretty the tattoos are.”

“Thanks. Um, you’re gonna need an appointment.” She pulls out her phone again, since it’s synced to the calendar Joseph makes them all keep, “lemme see....I have a big slot of time on Friday afternoon.”

The girl cocks her head, “That’s two days from now, right?”

“Yep.We can start at one if that works for you?”

“Sure, see you then!” She waves and then disappears under the water. A few moments later, a shimmering golden tail breaks the swell, seeming to wave once before submerging. Aubrey blinks, switches back to the bun cam.

“How do I tell Joseph I have to move my stuff outside to tattoo a mermaid?”

Dr. Harris Bonkers snuffles, but offers no further commentary.

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

“Joseph, for the last time, you are not gonna hang around just to ask my client questions while I’m trying to work.”

“I don’t plan to, but we need to make sure everything, and I mean everything, is as sterile as we can manage. Doing this outside gives me hives as it is.” Joseph finishes setting up the pop-tent, the kind sun-phobic families take to the beach.

“C’mon, people gave each other traditional tattoos out in the open for centuries. It should be fine.”

Joseph makes an unsure noise, but leaves her in peace all the same. Before long a golden tail flashes out of the water as the mermaid swims towards the beach, the closest spot to the pier where they could actually set the tent and generator up. It’s right on the tide line, Duck having used his almanac to tell them whether Aubrey would be chasing the tide or fleeing from it if the appointment turns out to be long.

“Um, hi again.” She waves.

“Hello!” The mermaid slides up into the surf. When she sits up, Aubrey turns pink.

“Uh, do you, uh, want a swimsuit or something?” Her voice is embarrassingly high.

The mermaid looks down, then at Aubrey studiously looking elsewhere, and laughs, “Oh, right, I forgot humans don’t like it when we’re bare-chested.”

“I mean it’s not that we don’t like it-” Aubrey mumbles.

“Be right back.” She pushes back into the sea, returning a minute later wearing a bright green bikini top, “is that better?”

“Yep!” She replies too quickly, “Sorry, I, um, I’ve never worked on a mermaid before, kinda figured you guys wore seashells or sea stars or something?”

“You...you realize where that would put the seastar mouths, right?” The mermaid scoots up onto the beach, tail in the water and back on the inflatable recliner they borrowed from Kirbys apartment.

“Ooohouch, you’re right, fuck, sorry.” She grabs her flash binder, brought in case the mermaid didn’t have a design in mind.

The mermaid glances over her shoulder, smiling, “You’re cute when you blush.”

She maintains her professionalism, but only just, as the mermaid chooses her preferred design; a brightly colored swirl of planets and stars. For a newbie, she barely seems to register the needle, focused instead on studying Aubrey’s face and hands as she works. She learns that her name is Dani, that she’s one of several merfolk living near the pier, and that she’s observed Aubrey and her handiwork courtesy of a rock and a pair of salvaged binoculars.

“Oooh” Dani wiggles her tail happily when she sees the finished product, “it’s perfect, thank you so much Aubrey.”

“Glad you like it-oh, okay.” She stiffens as Dani rubs their cheeks together twice before pulling back.

“I’m supposed to keep it clean right?”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure how well saran wrap will hold up to sea water.”

A formerly empty Rose bottle thunks onto the sand. Dani grabs it, popping the make-shift cork off with her teeth.

“Ooh, Indrid sent me a special covering to keep it safe. And these must be for you.” She holds out two pearls.”

“Thanks” She’s more interested in watching the kissable lips covering razor sharp than the gems the mermaid gives her.

“Can I see you again?” Dani is halfway back in the water.

“Whenever you want. You’re a great client; you, um, you’re really nice to touch. Wait, um, I mean you take it really welllARGH, um, yes please come back.” Aubrey replies, tucking the second most valuable thing on the beach into her pocket and continuing to blush well after Dani has returned to the waves.

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

“AHFUCK!”

“Sorry!” Dani gives a sheepish wave to Duck before turning to Aubrey, who got used to her popping out of the water five times ago, “are you free tomorrow?”

“Sure” even if she isn’t, she’ll happily reschedule another client for Dani’s sake, “do want to pick something from my flash?”

“Nope, this time Indrid designed something. It’s about the same size as this” she holds up the watercolor hermit crab on her right arm, “see you then?”

“Of course.” Aubrey waves goodbye, blows a kiss when Dani is out of sight.

She forgot Duck was still here.

“You got it bad, Lady Flame.”

“Shush, I saw you chatting to Indrid by the coffee shop yesterday.”

“....you can’t prove anythin.”

She holds up her phone, smirking, “Oh yes I can.”

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

“Aubrey!”

She looks up, wondering who’s calling her name on the deserted beach. She brings Dr. Harris Bonkers down here on a leash late at night for enrichment for him and a break from the summer heat for her.

“Aubrey, over here!” Dani leaps through the surf until she;s only able to slide, “I thought it was you. Ohhhhhh” she squeals, “this must be Dr. Harris Bonkers. Hello cutie pie, aren’t you just so lovelyOH, oh he feels like an otter.” She rubs the rabbits head, causing him to creep towards the water, “you’re the second cutest thing on this beach, doctor.” She winks at Aubrey, then sits up, “can I introduce him to Ferdinand?”

Aubrey nods, excited to finally meet Dani’s pet; she only his name, but she’s expecting a seal, or maybe a crab.

What she gets is an octopus. The cephalopod winds a tentacle around her arm, investigating her.

“Aww, he likes you.” Dani sets the octopus down in shallow water, where it proceeds to stretch multiple limbs out to poke Dr. Harris Bonkers.

“Guess they’re having a playdate?” Dani scoots closer, resting her head on Aubrey’s shoulder.

Aubrey sets a hand on her tail, running her fingers up and down the scales as the mermaid sighs happily.

“As long as he doesn’t carry Dr. Harris Bonkers into the tidepools, they can hang out as long as you like.”

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

“Dani? How many tattoos are you planning to get?” Aubrey looks up from where she’s outlining an octopus on Dani’s side.

“I haven’t decided yet. It’s really common for mers to have lots of piercings and tattoos. That’s why Indrid can leave Duck so many expensive tokens; he’s the most in-demand tattoo artist on the coast.”

“Neat! Wait-” she sits up, shutting off the gun, “your friend is a tattoo artist, but you kept coming here?”

“Yes.” Dani is still, save for the end of her tail, which vibrates nervously.

“Why?”

“Um, well, I, I really liked your style. Then I really liked you, and I wanted to keep seeing you…”

“Holy crap, do you keep getting tattoos because you think that’s the only way you’re able to see me?”

“Uhhuh.” Dani is bright pink from her cheeks to her waist as Aubrey scrambles to sit in front of her, “I mean, when you want to date someone, you’re only allowed to see them at their work until they say they want to date you too. Even us meeting on the beach a few weeks ago was pushing it, and I didn’t want you thinking I was pushy.”

“....Huh?”

“Do humans not have that rule?” Dani’s honey-colored eyes widen.

“Nope. It’s actually kinda rude to ask people out at work, because they can’t get away BUT” she hurriedly sets the gun aside, “but I make exceptions for super cute wonderful mermaids.”

“Oh. In that case-” Dani knocks her backwards with her tail and climbs atop her, kissing her so hard she wonders if you can die from a really good make-out session. When the salty kiss ends the mermaid continues peppering her face with kisses and flicking her tongue along her neck.

“Dani I, I’m loving all of this but if you mess up my ink I’m gonna be as annoyed as I can possibly be with a gorgeous mermaid feeling me up.”

“Crap, you’re right.” Dani sits back up, glancing at the half-done tattoo, "I really don't want to ruin your work. Desperate need to see you aside, I do love your style." She folds her hands back into her lap and readjusts onto the inflatable chair.

Aubrey crawls forward, kissing her sweetly, "Once we're done and you're all wrapped up, wanna join me on the beach for a little, um, late night picnic."

A teasing kiss, first to her nose and then to her lips, "I'd love to."

#danbrey #aubrey little/dani #taz amnesty #mermay #mermay fills

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starglossie · 4 years ago

Photo

HINAYACHI NATION WE RISE!!! [ read here: we make a sunset, you and i ]

Summary: Yachi loves highlighters. They're perfect for when she's taking notes. But her one orange highlighter just doesn't sit right. It's not the right shade of orange. And she can't really place what shade she's looking for until she spots Hinata. And when she does, she thinks:Yes, that's it. That's the perfect shade.

CAN ALSO BE READ DOWN BELOW!

Yachi loved highlighters.

Especially the pastel kind! They were the right shade of pink and blue and purple and yellow. A soft brightness that sat well on her paper when she dragged the felt tip across a certain word to make it pop.

She’d always been into color coding her notes. Colors were a great way to organize things. Blue for definitions. Greens for important takeaways. Pinks for material that will definitely be tested on an exam. Colors made sense.

Every so often she’d start vibing with a certain color. Some days her reading notes were more baby pink than sky blue. Or dewy green compared to lilac purple. Now, she found herself leaning towards her orange highlighter more. Though she quickly discovered, as she highlighted her notes in class and frowned deeply when the shade of orange wasn’t dark enough, that the shade simply wasn’t… right.

“Yachi!”

Yachi looked up from her notes. Hinata sat in the chair in front of her desk, resting his elbows on her desk. The sun was streaming boldly through the window, illuminating Hinata’s face and making his hair extra prominent in Yachi’s eyes. A fiery mass of orange. So bright you could never miss it.

That’s the right shade , she thought. Looking down at her orange highlighter that paled in comparison. If she could find a highlighter like Hinata’s hair. She’d be golden. Or, ha, orange . She laughed at her own little joke. Hinata scrunched his face in return.

“Whatcha laughing at?”

“Oh! Nothing,” she kicked her feet under her desk. A soft, rosey red bloomed on her cheeks. She could never share that joke. She’d combust from the embarrassment alone. “Is everything alright, Hinata?”

“No! We have a test coming up!” Yachi couldn’t but smile despite Hinata’s clear distress. Tests were not Hinata’s strong suit in the slightest. Though he was incredibly determined with his studying-or he tried to be, Yachi would give him kudos where kudos were due.

“Ah right...” she opened up her planner. It had bright sunflowers on the front and her name engraved in white. She flipped to March’s calendar where, two weeks from now, she had circled in bright pink EXAM TODAY! “I was going to text you about when you’d like to meet and study! I already started compiling a notebook for you…”

“Really?” Hinata’s eyes widened. They were so bright, Yachi thought they could have been covered with stars. “ Yachi, you’re incredible!”

Heat rose under her cheeks. She wanted to say this was nothing special. That the word incredible shouldn’t be used for something that, to her, was the natural course of things. Of course she’d make a notebook for him. She’d been doing that for years. And she enjoyed the little rush she got when she placed the tabs just right and when she created the perfect outline that aligned with the way Hinata best broke down information.

But for Hinata to think she’s incredible, all the same, a pleasant heat pooled under her skin that mirrored the baking warmth you get sitting under the sun at the beach for a few hours.

“Oh it’s nothing, really,” she said, popping the cap of her highlighter up than clicking it down. “We can review during lunchtime? Or maybe after practice if you’re not too tired?”

They were third years now. And every time Yachi thought about how two years had passed since she joined the volleyball club, awe and a little bit of sadness washed over her. She never pictured her high school life surrounding the sport and now, she couldn’t imagine what her high school life would have been like if she hadn’t joined.

She would open her journals sometimes. The ones she kept to write down how her day went, to give gratitude, to scribble down little prayers when they popped into her mind-for good health, for a meteor to not crash into her roof, for her mother’s happiness, to maybe fall in love-and read back over what she wrote. She’d grown so much and to just see that progress was sometimes unbelievable. But in such a good way. Like watching a plant go from a bud to full bloom.

She felt like she had bloomed, or well-was in the process of blooming. And she had to thank volleyball for that. For bringing her to the people that helped her grow.

“Hmmm,” Hinata hummed. He rubbed at his nose in thought. “Let’s do it after practice! ‘Cause I can’t eat and study at the same time. I’ll be way too focused on eating. Not so much on studying, haha.”

Hinata and Yachi had grown close over the years. They’d been in the same class all three years, while Kageyama got placed in class with Yamaguchi and Tsukishima (much to Tsukishima’s unbridled annoyance and Yamaguchi’s unashamed delight). Hinata’s response made Yachi smile. She expected that to be the answer. And opened her planner so she could write down Studying with Hinata!! In her favorite blue gel pen.

“Yachi you have so many pens and pencils and highlighters. Aren’t you overwhelmed?”

She slid her gel pen back into her pencil pouch purely for gel pens. “Oh! No not at all. I like having so many colors. I find it’s fun to pick and choose which one I want to use for notes.”

“Oh yeah! They’re kind of like, a mood ring, but not really. More like, mood… coloring? Something like that!” he finished with a laugh. And if it were anyone else in the world, Yachi might have felt like they said that just to humor her. But Hinata never said something he didn’t mean. He always spoke purely, from his heart. And that always made Yachi feel comfortable being her whole self. Illuminated in the glow that was Hinata Shouyou.

I wish I could find an orange highlighter that’s the shade of his hair, she thought. “Mood coloring! Hm yeah, that makes sense! Because sometimes I really want to use a pink highlighter because I’m feeling that particular shade!” she pulled out a soft, rosey pink highlighter. The color of cotton candy and then slipped it back into the pouch. “Or sometimes I’m in a minty green kind of mood!” she pulled out another highlighter for reference.

Hinata looked at her as if she was pulling out magical wands that sparkled and created starlights at their tips. “These are the coolest colors!” he reached for her hand, their fingers brushed. And as if she were shocked, she gasped. Dropping her highlighter to the table. It clattered softly onto her open notebook. “Ah, I’m sorry Yachi.” Hinata frowned, looking apologetic.

“N-No!” she was quick to correct. He had to know that he wasn’t at fault. That the electricity generated that shocked her fingers and made her pulse quicken was a newly crafted design that had, like her blooming, steadily grown over the years to this moment. “It was just a little static shock as all! It happens, haha.” she reached for her highlighter. Her cheeks burned.

In her journals, she had started writing out a name. And sometimes, that name had a few hearts beside it.

She was terribly infatuated, she realized every time she stared down at the suddenly not so blank page covered in that name with so many hearts .

Hinata fixed her with that same look he got when he was picking someone apart and wasn’t ashamed for you to realize he was doing so. It only lasted a second. Then, he was smiling again. A slow smile, and he leaned forward, his voice softer.

“Can you show me where you get those highlighters? Maybe after school before we start studying?”

Oh goodness is this a date? Her mind conjured with a swiftness. No! Hitoka! Do not jump to such conclusions! He’s your friend-one of your best friends. It’s just a friendly thing. And sure it’s happening on a date of the week but that doesn’t mean-

“Yes!” she tapped her feet on the ground with excitement, nodding fervently. “Yes that’s perfect!”

“Great! Sounds good then!”

Hinata jumped up just as his name was called. Kageyama was at the door. Hinata pointed a finger at him. “Kageyama! You came early! I’m ready to kick your ass if you’re ready to get your ass kicked!”

“Stupid, I’m gonna win. Hi Yachi,” Kageyama waved at Yachi. Yachi beamed, waving in return. ”I’ve been stretching all morning during class. My long jump is going to beat yours hands. No. Legs down.”

Another thing Yachi had gained over the years was the ability to understand the secret language that was Hinata and Kageyama’s dynamic. Honestly, once you understood that they made a competition out of everything, filling in the gaps came easily after that.

“What’s the competition this time?” Yachi chuckled, putting her planner back into her bag.

“Kageyama and I are gonna see who has the best long jump!” Hinata explained. “I won last time but Kageyama’s a sore loser so we gotta do it again.”

“I’m not! My legs weren’t at maximum stretch, that’s all.”

“What are you, Luffy? Are you going to try and find One Piece next?” Hinata asked, running through the classroom to get to Kageyama. Waving by to the students who called out to him as he did.

The last thing Yachi heard as they left the classroom was Kageyma ask, “The fuck is a One Piece?”

After practice, Yachi had a routine.

First, she gathered up all the balls with the help of her volleyball players and put them all away. Then, she took down the nets and rolled them up to be carried into the practice shed. She liked to imagine they were giant pieces of dough she was rolling up for cannolis. Afterwards she liked to clean the gym floors. She didn’t have to, but she wanted to. It was a nice feeling. Getting the giant mop and pushing it through the gym, up and down. She would pretend that she was in Mario Kart and her car was a giant, turbine-powered mop that could zoom lightning fast down the track!

After she finished mopping, she would go through every single volleyball and squeeze it exactly six times (one for every letter of her name) to check the air pressure. If a volleyball was flat, she’d pump it up until it was all full and no flat. Sometimes, when she thought no one was looking (and she always checked her surroundings three times) she’d try to hit a few balls over the net. Over the years, she’d gotten better! And could not do a solid overhand serve with little to no effort. Her hand always tingled after the ball connected with her palm. But she rather liked the feeling. And she always clutched her palm tightly as if she were holding a fallen star in her hand. To make the sting hold on a little longer. To keep the moment from fading away…

She threw another volleyball up in the air. Just to feel the tingle again.

“YACHI, YOU’RE STILL HERE!”

The ball dropped onto her head, sending a brief bout of pain down her neck and spine. “GAH!” the ball bounced onto the floor two… six… eight times before it rolled all the way to Hinata’s feet. “Ow! Ow! Ah… H-Hinata?” she felt heat swarm her neck and dominated her cheeks. Aw man.. She had hoped no one would have been around!

Hinata leaned down and picked up the ball. Holding it out with one palm, grinning to himself. He walked over to Yachi and held the ball with two hands. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya! Were you practicing your serve? I can receive some if you want!”

“No! No no I was just… playing around, haha.” Hinata’s receives were really something to witness though. They were beautiful in their own way. How he moved with a sharpened, feral precision to meet the ball wherever it was aimed time and time again without fail. Yachi could never tear her eyes away from Hinata once he stepped on the court.

He was her favorite player to watch.

“Ah, another time then. Are you almost done here?”

“Almost! We’re still going to the store, right?”

“Yeah! To get those highlighters you use! I wanna get like, thirty .” Hinata dropped the volleyball and started dribbling it with his knees. “Um wait. I should check my allowance first. But thirty would be nice.”

“We can do ten to start,” Yachi offered with a smile, watching Hinata play with the ball like it’s a part of him - a piece of his energy. “I already have a pack of mind.”

She hoped she could find an orange highlighter while they were out too. One that was as bright as Hinata’s hair in the late afternoon sunlight that crept into the gym through the windows. Hinata smiled at her wide and the wind got knocked out of her. Her heart clenched fiercely and when Hinata put the ball away in the ball crate beside Yachi, she inhaled sharply.

“Yachi, has anyone told you how you’re so... ?” Hinata’s not looking at her. His hands were deep in the ball crate as he put away the remaining volleyballs Yachi hadn’t finished storing yet. “What’s the word? Not just kind-which you are. But you’re so… oh!” he turned his head and it was like daybreak bloomed in that very moment. “Thoughtful. Like, the most thoughtful person I know cause you’re always considering and thinking about others-even for the smallest of things.”

The blood in Yachi roared. Her heart squeezed something terrible. Hinata was going on about how Yachi had so many thoughts about other people he wondered how anyone could ever feel lonely or forgotten when Yachi was there. To consider them and acknowledge them and give them space. He went on about how her brain must be so big because it carried so many thoughts and how her heart must be so large because it cared for people without hesitation.

“It’s why you’re such a good manager!” Hinata said with a sense of finality to his words. “All these years you’ve been taking care of us and I speak for everyone-even Kageyama but he’s shy so he’ll never admit this-when I say you’re irreplaceable. One of a kin-are you crying?”

Yachi was, in fact, crying. Hot pools of tears that were flowing down her face without stopping. “Ah! I’m crying!” She gasped. No no no. Why was she crying? No, no her tears weren’t hormones going wild. Or from her usual bout of a fifteen minute stress cry followed by a forty five minute power walk that concluded with a ten minute ice cream break after.

No, her tears were from the praises of sunlight Hinata had basked her in.

She wiped at her face furiously, sniffling as she did. Hinata was fussing. Waving his arms around wildly. His face was as red and maybe as scorched as hers felt.

“I’m sorry!!! I didn’t mean to compliment you to tears!”

“No it’s okay!!! I didn’t mean to cry from your compliments!!! They were very nice!”

“Do you need a tissue? I have a pack of two with cats on them that I use for Natsu sometimes!”

“Yes I’d like one of your packs of tissues you use for Natsu sometimes I also like cats!”

“Ok!” Hinata pulled out a pack of tissues, the ones with the cats on them, and handed them to Yachi.

She took the pack and a tissue to wipe at her eyes and blow her nose. She put the pack in one pocket and then the used tissue in the other-that she’d throw out later, of course. A beat of silence passed between them. Yachi glanced up shyly at Hinata. Hinata glanced down shyly at her.

They both bursted out in laughter.

“Let’s go to the store!” Hinata said.

Yachi nodded, “To the store!”

“So you use post-it notes to take notes…”

“Sometimes! Or I’ll use it for book marks or to tab important sections to go back for review.”

“Huh,” Hinata said, holding up two packs of post-it notes. One had a stack of green, orange, and yellow. Another had a stack of blue, pink and purple. “I’ve always used them to make little paper frogs.”

Yachi snorted. “Well that’s definitely a good use for it…” they had spent about an hour or so at the stationary store.

Their game plan was to buy the highlighters so they could use it for their study session. But then Hinata got distracted looking at all the notebooks with designs on the cover.

“A purple tiger! Wait, that’s Mahou Ranger Blue! WAIT A MINUTE IS THAT A COW?”

And Yachi, of course, followed along. She pointed out some of her own favorites from the stack. A sunflower cover. A panda cover. And one special notebook that you could design the front yourself that came with a small pack of markers attached.

Hinata then discovered the wonderful world of stickers and now, in the little basket Yachi had the sound mind to grab once Hinata started pulling object after object from the shelves, was filled with seven sticker packs, two notebooks, and three rolls of washi tape.

“This place is so cool…” Hinata was awestruck as he dropped the post-it note packs with orange and yellow into the basket. “Do you come here often?”

“Sometimes,” Yachi tapped her fingers on the top of her knees. “When I need to restock. Or when I need to self-care and indulge. Or uh, when I’m bored.”

Hinata nodded several times, “I don’t even know where I’m going to put all those stickers… maybe on Kageyama and have him freak out about where they came from.”

“That would be very chaotic.”

“Hehe, right! Oh yeah, the highlighters. We didn’t get the highlighters!”

“They’re over there,” Yachi pointed at the aisle with a sign saying HIGHLIGHTERS written in bright colors. “There’s a whole section for them.”

“A WHOLE section,” he sounded like a kid in a candy store who was given permission to go wild. “Let’s go!”

They went through every section of the highlighter aisle. Hinata was enamored by all the colors. “There’s ten shades of purple how is that even possible !” and “Wait this is literally the color of the sky I love this shade of blue!” and “Oh my God why would they make a highlighter that’s turd colored aren’t they ashamed? Don’t their parents love them?”

Yachi laughed so hard her sides hurt. Hinata was enjoyment incarnate. Being with him was fun, always. She never got bored or tired or felt like she had to work hard to fill in a space of silence when she was with Hinata. He made it feel like gaps were easier to fill. Like moments were more memorable. Like conversations just held more weight when Hinata Shouyou was on the other end of the line.

She kept glancing at Hinata’s hair as he tested every single highlighter he could on the test paper. The bright mound of orange that looked like untamed fire. She wondered how soft it was. If he used any special type of shampoo. If he could tie it into a pony tail now because it had grown much, much longer since they were first years. She wondered if he would let her put it into a ponytail. She wondered if the gaps between her fingers would be wide enough for his hair to slide through as she curled her hands into his hair while they-

“Yachi look!” Hinata was holding up a yellow highlighter. He put it close enough to her face and stuck out his tongue in thought. Eyes narrowed in concentration and zeroed in right on her. Making Yachi stand a little straighter. “Oh yeah… this is the perfect shade.”

“The perfect shade for what?”

“It matches your hair! This yellow, I mean.” Hinata explained. He took one of the test papers that was blank and ripped it out of the notebook. With a flick of his thumb, he uncapped the marker and drew a thick, bold line of yellow onto the page. “See? It’s just like your hair. Don’t ya think?”

Yachi’s fingers found themselves to the end of her ponytails. Pulling slightly so she could get a better look. She did a double take. Her heart skipped double beats. “Oh… it does. It does!”

“Hehehe, I’m gonna get it.” he dropped the highlighter in the basket. The only highlighter out of all the ones he tested out. “Ok. Did you find a color yet?”

“You’re only getting… this one?” Yachi’s not sure how to take that. But then, it’s Hinata. He’s simply complicated sometimes.

“Mhm. That’s the one. I like it the best.” and her mind filled in the blanks that weren’t there. Put in the puzzle pieces to fit so the conclusion was he liked that highlighter the best because it reminded him of her (hair color, her mind provided. Not you specifically. Does the distinction even matter! ).

“Ah for me… I…” slowly, she kept walking down the aisle. Hinata trailing behind her. Head turning on either side, searching and gazing until-”Oh! That one!” she pointed at an orange highlighter at the top of the shelf. She stood on her tiptoes but her fingers were a few inches short.

“Here,” Hinata was behind her. His chest to her back. His heat a warm blanket that drowned her in the fantasy of the shelves replaced by a kitchen counter and a cabinet. Their own little apartment instead of the stationary shop. Intimacy and familiarity humming between the small distance between their bodies. And Yachi would turn. Turn around and look up at Hinata and see the curve of his chin. See the slope of his collarbone that would slip into the crook of his shirt collar. And when Hinata would tilt down, and their eyes would meet, and Yachi would swoon because being so close she can drown in his scent. And she’d reach up onto her tip toes to-

“The highlighter,” Hinata’s heat was gone. The highlighter was now in her face while Hinata grinned. “My super reach was able to grab it no problems! Here ya go.”

An orange the color of Hinata’s hair. Where she could use it whenever she felt a yearning in her chest and could reach into her pencil pouch. Pull out the highlighter. And find words in one of her novels that made her heart twinge the same tune and level of longing she felt whenever she overheard Hinata’s laugh or had his smile directed at her. Her Hinata orange.

She reached out to grab the pencil. Their fingers brushed briefly. A warm spark that went right to her toes.

“Thank you,” she said, curling her fingers around the highlighter in a silent prayer before dropping it into the basket. “I’ve been looking for a shade like that for a long time. The right kind of orange!” her throat feels dry. Her chest is throbbing something horrible.

“Oh? Why’s that?”

She thought about the yellow highlighter laying underneath the orange one in her basket. How Hinata said this is perfect - because it’s like your hair. She swallowed past the nerves in her throat.

“It reminds me of… you. Your hair,” she quickly tacked on.

Hinata doesn’t move. And that put her on alarm because Hinata was always moving. His stillness was a sign of the unexpected coming.

And when it came, it stole the last remnants of her heart that was untouched by this feeling, taking control of her body and conquering it in the name of Hinata Shouyou.

His smile was bold and brilliant and bright. Wide as a watermelon. As dazzling as star bright. His face was red. Red to his cheeks and his chin and the tip of his nose-all red and covered in a blush. He laughed, and it was a little off kilter. A little high pitched in the middle but leveled off at the ends.

“Yeah?” he rubbed at the bottom of his nose. “Heh...hehe…”

“Hehe...hehehe…”

“Hehehehehehe.”

“Heheheehehhee.”

Yachi set down a tray of juice and some snacks on the table made after Hinata had pushed aside their revision materials to make space. She laughed, finding Hinata with his cheek smushed against the table. His eyebrows knitted so deeply together they’d probably become a blanket.

“Hi. Are you tired?” she asked, kneeling on her pillow.

“When I close my eyes all I see are multiplication signs and equal signs… it’s horrible!”

“Have you tried opening your eyes?”

“It’s no difference cause it’s right on the page!”

They’d been studying for a good chunk of the evening. Nearly everyday after school they’d come back to Yachi’s place to study. Their exam was at the end of the month. And they had about another week or so to prepare. Yachi, thankfully, had notebooks organized and compiled by subject and tabbed accordingly by the topic of said subject ready to go for revision. Hinata had to play catch up. But Yachi had seen this coming. So she made brief, outlined notes for Hinata that he could use as a foundation to fill in the gaps.

“Yachi…” Hinata had sniffled, clutching the review materials to his chest. “Yachi I’d die for you.”

“Please don’t!” Yachi waved her hands in front of her face frantically. “My 27th fear is being the cause of someone’s death!”

The sun sat heavy and rested in the middle of the sky. After doing four rounds of twenty-five minutes on, they now could spend thirty minutes on a break. Something Hinata was incredibly happy about reaching.

Yachi wiggled her toes in her socks, staring down at the crown of Hinata’s hair. I want to touch it.

“Is it making sense?” she asked instead.

“Mmmmm, slowly.” Hinata yawned. “I dunno if I have another twenty-five minutes in me though.”

“We did study a lot,” wiggle wiggle. “We could call it a day after we review that one problem you were struggling with?” she glanced towards her window. “So you can go home before it gets dark.”

“Ughhhhhh,” Hinata pushed himself up to a sitting position. Raising his arms high above his head. Yachi caught a bit of his stomach peaking out from under his shirt and immediately shot her gaze back to their work. “Ok. That sounds good. Teach away, Yachi!”

So she did. She broke down the problem into walkable steps. And demonstrated the method for doing so. Hinata watched with the same intensity he had when he was watching someone pull off a move before he replicated it with near perfection shortly afterwards. He followed her pen strokes. Her pointing. And when she capped her orange highlighter to make an emphasis on one of the steps, he grinned.

“Oh hey. Nice highlighter,” he reached behind him and pulled out from his back pocket his yellow highlighter. He tapped his highlighter against Yachi’s. “They look kinda cool together, don’t ya think? Like they compliment each other.”

We do, don’t we ?

“Yeah,” Yachi replied dreamily. She snapped herself back into focus, though, before her thoughts went ahead of her. “Do you want to try the problem? If you get stuck on a step you can use your highlighter to mark it.”

“Good idea!” Hinata went to work. Face molded in concentration. His shoulders hunched. The hum of Yachi’s fan played in the background to the sound of Hinata scratching his notes down. She reached out for her drink. Hoping the sweetness of the lemonade would cool her thoughts. Of how often they were alone together. How her friends were always asking Hinata-san’s going home with you again, huh? And how many times she’d laugh it off and dimississ it saying We’re just studying! We’re just friends .

Even when her heart would roar loudly in defiance: You want more. You’ve always wanted more.

But how could she?

They were graduating soon. Hinata was definitely heading into a world where their paths wouldn’t collide. Where they wouldn’t sit in adjacent rows. Where their friends weren’t down the hallways. Where they couldn’t grab lunch together and sneak out onto the roof. Hinata would surely go pro. There was no other option. And Yachi was going to college. This moment, in her room, where it’s her and Hinata and the fan buzzing and the drink in her hand with the ice slowly melting and the sun slinking lower and lower into the sky, this moment wasn’t forever. It was a finite piece of a giant vacuum that would swallow her whole at the idea that her days with Hinata were numbered.

Numbered and disappearing at an alarming rate.

“Am I right?”

Hinata’s question pulled Yachi from her thoughts. She blinked back the stinging in her eyes to glance down at his work. He had gotten it right. And her heart leapt with joy and pride at the sight.

“Yup!” she held up her hands for a double high five that Hinata returned with a holler.

“YEEEEEES!”

“Just do that for the exam if you see a problem like that and you’ll be golden.”

“I will! You made it super simple to understand and do. If you weren’t such a badass with designs I’d say you could be a really good teacher, Yachi.”

“Ah, it’s nothing-”

“Hey. Don’t do that.”

“Huh?” Yachi stopped, mid tuck of putting a hair behind her ear. Wondering when she should get another trim for her split ends. “Do... Don’t do what?”

“Put yourself down,” Hinata pressed, leaning forward until their noses were almost touching. Yachi yelped and leaned back an inch. “You do that a lot. When I hype you up you hype yourself down. That’s not good.”

She knew she had a nasty habit of doing that. Of regulating herself to Villager B position. She’d been actively trying to not do that. And being in the club helped her cultivate a garden of confidence she could pick from whenever a new one bloomed. But every so often her habit came back. Innocuous and bitter. Never letting go.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize either,” Hinata said softly, yet there was a firm seriousness to his voice as he did.

The fan whirred on and on.

Hinata kept his gaze on Yachi. She felt sweat form in her palms. She watched as his gaze searched hers and then, for a brief second, fell to her mouth. She gasped. Her nails curling in to dig at her palms. Her eyes widening as the dangerous, mischievous idea that maybe he was considering what her mouth tasted like. Currently, she’s mad at herself for not reapplying her vanilla shea butter chapstick when she had thought about it. And currently, she considered how the humidity in her room is making her shirt stick in the most uncomfortable places. On her neck and under her arm and to her stomach.

Their noses were inches apart.

If she tilted her head, she could-

Hinata’s phone rang. The theme song of the newest Super Sentai- Mahou Ranger -blared through her room. Hinata and Yachi froze. Until Hinata cursed and got up to turn answer his phone.

“Terushima!” Hinata said upon answering. “Hello? Can I call you back? I'm in the middle of something? Huh? Wait, what? Bokuto is doing what ? Wait wait! Send pics and I’ll call you later about it! That’s epic-let him know! Ok bye!”

While he was on the phone, Yachi had a moment to ground herself. Had a moment to realize that she was, in fact, very close to having her first kiss. She slowly raised her finger tips to her lips. Ran the pads of her fingers along her bottom lip and pressed down. Wondering what the pressure of another person’s lips-of Hinata’s lips-would have felt like.

“Yachi, are these the tissues I gave you a few weeks ago? You still have them?”

“Huh? Oh,” she saw the packet of tissues that Hinata was holding up. “Yeah. They’re cute! So I’ve been saving them for special blowing occasions.” saying that out loud was a lot more embarrassing than in her head, oh Lord.

Hinata, however, found it hilarious. He laughed and placed it back on the table. “You’re right. They’re meant for the most epic of nose blows. That’s why they’re super soft! Absorbs all the snot!”

“Oh that’s gross,” Yachi said between laughter. Her heart was still racing. Her fingers tapped on the table with loose, uncontained excitement. She kept thinking what if, what if, what if .

Maybe one day, she hoped rather hopelessly, she could see what world lied beyond the what if .

But for now, she contented herself with watching Hinata sitting across from her. In the small space of her bedroom. Where the moments before their paths would diverge were tucked away in tiny pockets of her heart.

“What’s that? Hinata you own a highlighter?”

“I didn’t even know you took notes.”

“Hey! I take notes!” Yachi was not so subtly listening into Hinata’s conversation a few desks away. She had been reworking training schedules for the team to do next week. Conditioning should be bumped down back to two days, and three days for strength work and other drills. She was about to bring out the markers to color code when she heard Hinata’s laughter.

Her heart skipped a measure. Her fingers twitched. His laugh was, perhaps, one of the best things she’s ever been blessed to experience. Even when it wasn’t directed towards her.

“When? All your notes are drawings, man.”

“It makes sense to me .”

“Right, right!”

“Well listen! Maybe I just needed a cool highlighter to keep me motivated.”

“Yellow’s the most basic color there is…”

Ah! Man… that should not have made Yachi as bummed as it did. Well, they weren’t wrong, she supposed. Yellow was a basic color. Especially when there were other shades like purple or mint green or sky blue. Yellow… yellow just didn’t-

“This is the best shade of yellow there is.”

And there was something in the way that Hinata said that. So sure, so strong, and with enough passion someone would think he was defending his favorite tv show character. Yachi felt her heart soar. Then immediately felt silly for getting so excited over Hinata being an advocate for something silly like a highlighter.

She glanced up secretly. Hoping to see what Hinata’s expression was like. Her heart stopped. Her breath hitched.

Because Hinata was looking at her, too.

If this were a shoujo manga, and Yachi’s read many of them, this would be the scene where the world disappears and the only thing left are their desks. Their eyes meet and around them is a frame of cherry blossoms and starlight. Of sparkles and an intense, hushed moment that’s meant to translate a moment shared between two people and two people only.

But this is the real world. The moment fleets and passes like a train rushing for its next stop.

“I like this color,” Hinata said. Looking at her still. His face broke out into a sunny smile that hit Yachi right in the chest. “I like it a lot.” Then he twirled his highlighter around his fingers like a drummer and turned back to his friends.

“What? Why were you looking at Yachi-san like that?”

“Haha, don’t worry about it!” Hinata turned the conversation onto asking if they’d seen the ending of Black Clover yet.

There was a loud, pulsing sound. That roared and demanded attention. That swallowed Yachi’s entire body whole. She felt like one, large, heartbeat. Her cheeks were flamed and her fingers were jittery.

She looked back down at her notes. Staring at the blue marker she was planning to use for color coding. She put it away and brought out the orange highlighter instead. The one she’d bought with Hinata.

With a slow, measured stroke, she brought the highlighter across the first word on the page.

CONDITIONING - LED BY HINATA SHOUYOU.

Yachi felt like death.

Madoka, her mother, knelt beside her bedside. “You’re so warm, dear. Are you sure you want me to go to work?” she frowned. “I can stay home.”

While Yachi would want nothing more than her mother to stay. To taste some of her mother’s food. To feel the continued cooling comfort of her palm pressed to her forehead. She couldn’t. Her mom had a project presentation coming up soon that had her working longer hours. Yachi knew how excited her mother was to show off her latest work. If she missed a day something could go wrong… and Yachi would feel even worse if that happened because of her.

“It’s ok, mama.” Yachi wiggled herself out of her blanket enough for her face to show. Her cheeks were red and flushed. Her body felt sluggish but she put on the best smile she could. “I just need to sleep some more. I’ll be ok! You go to work.”

“Are you sure?”

“Super sure,” she reached up to touch her mother’s hand. Gave it a squeeze.

Her mom still didn’t seem convinced. But after a few moments she sighed and got up from the floor. “Alright,” she adjusted her bag and leaned forward to press a kiss on Yachi’s cheek. “Try eating the porridge I made for you if you can! I put all my love in it.” another kiss. “Text or call if you need anything, Hitoka!”

Her mom left for work shortly after. Yachi pulled the blanket back over her head. Oh, she hated being sick. It was such an unpleasant time. Not only was she unable to do work, but her body felt blegh all over. Her nose would keep running. Her eyes never stopped watering. And when she coughed she could feel her whole lungs shake like old rafters in an attic.

She also hated being sick because she couldn’t see Hinata…

The other managers and a few of the players had sent her get well text messages once they found out she was out sick today. And memes, a lot of memes. She felt good, to be considered. It was nice when people remembered you in your absence. When you not being there meant just as much as you being there. That they even considered reaching out at all had made her all gooey!

And then Hinata had texted her. And her heart exploded.

Hinata: YACHI WHY AREN’T YOU HERE!!

Yachi: I’m sick lol! But it’s just a cold tho!!! I should be better by tomorrow so no worries!!!!

Hinata: OH NOOOOOOO Hinata: YOU BETTER FEEL BETTER SOON OR ELSE!!!

Hinata: I’m beating up your antibodies as we SPEAK!

Hinata: Wait Tsukishima just told me if I did that you’d die so I’m actually beating up your VIRUS

Hinata never failed to make her laugh. Even when it ended with a slight cough that made her more tired afterwards.

She slept most of the day away. Getting up once to eat her mom’s porridge. It was yummy, because her mom made it. She checked in with her fellow managers. Seeing how practice went. They both told her it went fine, and that her main focus should be rest.

Miyuchan: [PICTURE OF HINATA MID JUMP] Hinata-senpai’s in good form today hehehe… Sorachan: [VIDEO OF HINATA TURNING TO THE CAMERA, WAVING] when i said your name he turned and waved!! Said it was just for you :)

Yachi’s entire face exploded with heat afterwards. She chucked her phone and ducked under the covers like a caterpillar. “Waaaaaaah! WAAAAAAAH! He looked so good today and I missed it!!! MUCUS DRY UP! COUGH GO AWAY!!!”

She kicked her feet up and down and buried her head into the pillow. Ah, she really had it bad. When did it ever get this way, though? When had she even started to like him? When had that happened?

Maybe it was gradual. A steady rising. That just built up and up over time until she finally couldn’t ignore it anymore. Maybe it was the natural progression of things. When Hinata was so warm and open and understanding. When his sunlight was so attractive and welcoming that stepping to bask in its glow just wasn’t that weird of a thing to do.

But now she thought about what wedding colors she’d have her bridesmaids wear at their wedding and what to do if Godzilla attacked that day and they had to get married within his stomach after being eaten and that was the thought that sent her back to sleep.

When she woke up, the sun had set.

She rose slowly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Ah, I slept for too long…”

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

“Morning Hinata…” . . . “HINATA?”

Hinata sat by her bed with the chair she usually had placed at her desk. He was all grins and laughter. “Haha, hey! Yeah, it’s me. I wanted to come see ya.”

“You… did?”

“Yup! Your mom let me in. She wanted to let you know that she went OVERDRIVE with work today and finished enough so she could come back and see if you needed anything! We bumped into each other at the convenience store when I was getting you..” he reached into his bag and pulled out a pack of Fugashi. Her absolute favorite.

She was going to cry. She’d blame it on the cold.

“Hinata you didn’t have to get me anything! Just you here is uh,” she wanted to say that nothing was sweeter than time with Hinata. And nothing was more delicious than Hinata, in general. But instead settled with, “it’s good. It’s a pleasant surprise. Everyone really!” she quickly added. “I’ve gotten so many texts today from the team and our friends… feeling cared by you all made me feel a million times better!”

Hinata still placed the bag of snacks on her bed beside her. And scooted the chair until he was right by her. He fixed her with a serious glance that made her want to fidget. But then he just broke out into his usual smile.

“Well duh. Of course we’d check in on you! You’re important to us after all.”

“Hehe… yeah,” she rubbed at her cheek. “It’s nice to be reminded of that, I guess. You know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” he nodded several times for emphasis and then jumped as if he was struck by lightning. “Oh yeah! I almost forgot.” he reached into his bag again and pulled out a notebook. “I took notes! For you. Well, for me too but these are the ones I did for you specifically.”

She took the notebook from his hands. Flipping through the pages to find scrawled onto the paper notes. Organized and then explained why they were organized the way they were with doodles and boxes and arrows. It was all very Hinata. Yachi felt like she was getting a sneak peek into the inner workings of his brain. Which was cute. But what really made the notes was on the last page. Where he had written in big letters: KEY - IMPORTANT INFORMATION HIGHLIGHTED WITH YACHI YELLOW!

This was the moment where she fell.

If like was the diving board, love was the pool. And she fell into its waters. Got consumed by its waves.

She liked him. Maybe even loved him. Infinitely so. The heat of her fever chilled in comparison to the overwhelming warmth and adoration she had for him in this moment.

She pressed the notebook to her chest. Feeling the corners of her eyes sting. “These are the best notes I’ve ever received… thank you.” Yachi kept her eyes on Hinata. Who looked so pleased and elated and ecstatic-his entire face glowing from the praise. “And thank you for coming to see me.”

“Of course, Yachi!” he reached out to grab her hand. Gave it a squeeze. And then ruffled her hair before he got up. “If you have any questions about the notes, gimmie a text! And I’ll see you in class tomorrow, ok? You better come! Or else I’m bringing you there myself!”

“Yeah! Tomorrow,” she grinned. So hard her cheeks hurt.

Later that night, after Hinata had left. Her mom came to find her later. Madoka sat at the end of Yachi’s bed. While Yachi sat propped against her headboard. Fingers running through every word Hinata had written for our. Making sure to linger extra long on the highlighted phrases. So much so her index finger had highlighter smudges on it.

“I think he likes you,” her mom had said after a few moments.

Yachi whipped up her head, “Did he say something? Did he! Mama you can’t say that and then not explain!”

Her mother laughed, “You didn’t give me a chance to! No, Hitoka. He didn’t say anything directly. But I know attraction when I see it.” she lowered her eyes, a sly expression on her face as she regarded Yachi. “Something tells me it’s not so one-sided on his part…”

Yachi papped her cheeks, rubbing in small circles. “Ah… is it noticeable?”

“A bit,” she leaned forward to kiss Yachi on the forehead. “I approve, by the way. If he ever wants to come over for dinner let him know he’s more than welcomed! Also! Did you guys kiss? I hope you didn’t since you could pass your cold to him but if you did -”

“MAAAAMAAAAAA!”

“Just teasing!”

It was one thing to know you liked someone.

It was another thing altogether to act upon it.

Yachi had definitely grown in her courage stat over her high school career. She didn’t hesitate to strike up a conversation. She didn’t question, as much and as aggressively, her place in the world. She raised her voice and led proudly during every practice session with her managers. She even looked forward to volunteering in class.

But love? Romance? She had zero stats in that section at all.

Most of her knowledge came from otome games and shoujo mangas. And the occasional evening drama she and her mama would watch when her mama had a day off.

Real life experience? Zero.

How did people even confess to their crushes?

“I could write him a note,” she thought, sipping on her strawberry milk in class during lunch. “Or um… write him a song? I can’t sing well though. Maybe I should get someone else to sing it? But what if he thinks the person who’s singing the song to him is crushing on him and he falls in love with them and then they get engaged right in front of me I would have to simply pass awa-”

“What are you talking about, Yachi? It sounds stressful?”

“Hinata!” Of course he’d appear as she rambled herself into oblivion. So embarrassing. “Oh, nothing. I was just getting in my head a bit.”

“Well I hope you can get out of your head soon enough cause look!” Hinata held up his test score papers. They weren’t the best but they weren’t failures. He actually hit much higher than his usual exam results. With scores ranging well within the 60s and 70s. “I passed! Our study sessions worked!”

“Oh that’s so great Hinata! I knew you could do it! I’m so proud.”

“Hehehehehe, it’s all thanks to your wonderful teaching! Hey, as thanks. We’re gonna go out after school ok? Since we don’t have practice we can like, go get something to eat.”

Like a date? Her brain supplied traitorously. “Something to eat sounds good. But you really don’t have to treat me. It was no trouble at all tutoring you.”

“I want to do this,” Hinata pressed. Firm and resolute. Once Hinata got set with an idea, it was hard to change his mind. Stubbornness was imprinted within his DNA-Yachi was sure of it.

“Ok,” she agreed, nodding. Smiling, she added, “We can meet by the gym?”

“The gyms perfect! It’s a-” before he could finish Kageyama’s voice called out from the doorway.

“Hinata! Melon bread is on sale today. Last one to the cafeteria sucks!” and then he booked it.

“YOU DIRTY CHEATER, KAGEYAMA!” Hinata hollered. The classmates around them laughed. Yachi wondered what Hinata was going to say after that. But before she could ask Hinata turned to her, slapping his hands on her desk.

“The gym!” he pressed, looking her right in the eye.

She nodded, “The gym. Go! Melon bread!” she stuck out her orange highlighter. Hinata blinked down at it for a second, then grinned. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his yellow highlighter. He tapped his against hers.

“I’M COMING FOR YOU MELON BREAD!” Hinata roared before he tore out of the classroom like a hurricane on a mission.

Yachi stared at her highlighter like it was a rare jewel. She clutched it to her chest, where her heart was beating madly.

“Thank you so much for existing,” she whispered.

The rest of the day went by in a blur.

Yachi barely remembered what occurred in her lessons. But that wasn’t really important. What mattered was after school. It was rare that they didn’t have practice. But Ukai-sensei wanted to give the team a good rest after their last practice match with Nekoma.

“You guys aren’t even allowed to think about a volleyball,” Ukai-sensei had warned. “If I find out you’re even touching one? Laps! Laps for days!”

Yachi was surprised Hinata wasn’t attempting to sneak off with Kageyama somewhere far, far away to go practice out of sight from their coach. But she’s incredibly happy he isn’t.

“Yachi!”

Yachi’s heart skipped a beat as Hinata stopped by her with his bike. She hopped off the steps to meet him. “Hinata! Hi! Nice bike!”

“Thanks! Wait check this out,” he rang the bell several times. It’s chime declared to anyone who could hear it. “It’s the Mahou Ranger theme song. I learned it last week with Terushima!”

“It’s fine! Um,” she stared at the bike, looking left and right to find another seat. “Are we going on that together?”

“Yeah! Is that cool?”

Was that cool? She’s read shoujo manga after shoujo manga depicting this very scene and they still hadn’t prepared her for this moment. She swallowed thickly.

“Yup! It’s cool. I won’t fall, right?” she attempted a laugh at the end. Something light to make her heart settle and her palms sweat less. (Do her armpits smell? Would he even notice if they did? No no, her armpits were fine ).

Hinata grinned lopsidedly, “If you hold on tight you won’t even wobble.”

Oh Yachi’s gonna hurl.

Once Yachi’s on the bike, and her arms are secured around Hinata’s middle, it’s a whole other experience. A thousand manga panels couldn’t capture the feeling of having her chest pressed to his back. Having her cheek against his shoulder. Seeing and meeting Hinata’s eyes everytime he glanced back to see if she was ok.

“I’m a safe driver!”

“I think we broke the sound barrier a bit!”

“Yeah but safely !”

She’s laughed more on the bike ride than she had all day. And she may have held on a little tighter. Squeezed and took advantage of the closeness a little more than she should. But she wanted to indulge in a little greediness. Take a bit more than what she usually would have. In case this moment was the last. In case she’d never get to feel him like this again.

They ate first. At a ramen shop downtown. The noodles were soft and the soup was so warm! Yachi slurped up her entire bowl. Messily and all. They talked about everything. School and their current, favorite TV shows. They exchanged music recommendations and talked about the future.

“I think I want to go abroad,” Hinata mentioned as they sat by the riverbank after dinner.

The back of Yachi’s neck went cold. “Oh yeah?” she tried not to think about how abroad meant far away and not near here. Because these were his dreams, not hers. And above all Yachi wanted to support Hinata and his journey with every fibre of her being. No matter where that took him. Even if she couldn’t support him by his side. “That’s amazing! Do you have a place in mind?”

“A few!” Hinata hummed. “I’m still weighing the options. I wanna go somewhere warm though. With a nice beach… I’d love to play some beach volleyball!”

“I’d worry about the sand in my toes,” Yachi laughed. “I get sand everywhere when I go to the beach. It’s really unpleasant.”

The sun was beginning to set. Sitting heavy and content upon the horizon. A mix of oranges and yellows and quiet pinks and rueful purples. Yachi focused her eyes on the river. And made her brain think about how far it reached. How the river would probably go to the ocean. And how the ocean, despite being divided into seven parts, was really all connected at the end. And maybe, that could be them. Divided, but connected.

“Ah yeah?” Hinata said. “Well, the sand would definitely need some getting used to. If you visit a lot though, you’d get used to all the sand, wouldn’t you think?”

If you visit a lot . She had to know what that meant. Because the hope that rose in her chest and took root in her heart and was threatening to dominate her being was too much. Too great. And too burdensome to end in a deflation of a what if, or a failed expectation.

“You’d want me to come see you?”

“Yeah of course,” Hinata was staring at the bank too. And then he turned to look at her. And she met him in return. As she always would. “I like you. So I wanna see you. Even when we graduate.”

“I mean of course we’d see each other after we graduate! I dunno if I could visit all the time because of college but maybe long breaks or something could work.” She’d completely blown by his first admission. Her brain was already trying to envision summer and fall and winter breaks and a trip. She had to balance finding an internship too. So maybe she could coordinate something with whatever company she ended up interning at. Hopefully they’d be lenient. She’s never traveled abroad either. So maybe she could call up Kiyoko-senpai or-

“Yachi get out of your head.”

Suddenly, Hinata was in her space. Eyes intense and lips pulled into a frown. Yachi’s instincts told her to move away but her heart told her to remain rooted.

“Hi,” she said quietly.

Hinata searched her face for countless seconds, “Yachi. Did you hear what I said? The first thing?”

“Yeah of course.” she responded. Then giggles. “Oh, that sounds like I’m responding to you but no I mean I’m just repeating.”

“No, after that. Think,” Hinata was so so close. And with the sunset coating him like a blanket, making his orange hair stand out even more, and his orange, golden eyes glow, she wondered if he’d keep his hair that long. Or if he’d cut it. And she wondered if she could touch it before they graduated. And she wondered if her mother was right, and he did like her. And she-

Oh.

“You like me.” it hit her like a freight train. Her entire body was covered in a dawning blush. The electricity and tingling of the realization went right down to her toes.

Hinata broke out into a brilliant smile. “Yes!” he laughed, head thrown back. The sound bounced all over the little world they were building of just her and Hinata. Only two. “Oh my God. I was worried you didn’t like me at first and that was your way of rejecting me. WAIT!” He whipped his head back, eyes wide with panic. “Do you like me? I mean, it’s okay if you don’t I’ll survive but if you did and I missed that you should say it again or if you haven’t said-”

“I like you,” Yachi blurted out. Because once the words had a reason to be alive. Had a reason to be born. Could be freed from the prisons of her mind and delivered safely with her heart to his hands-she had to say it. Here on the riverbank where the wet grass would surely leave stains on her skirt. But she didn’t care. Because she had to say it.

“I like you so much,” Yachi continued. Flowing like the river below them. “So much it hurts. So much I really, really want to kiss you.”

Hinata took her lips in the softest kiss. One that made her sigh and her eyelashes flutter. One that made her feel so seen and heard and alive and broken apart and undone and melting all at once.

It was her first kiss. And it made her want several more afterwards.

Once they broke apart, Hinata pressed his forehead to hers. Yachi curled her fingers around the back of his neck. Allowed herself the blessing of playing with his hair at the nape of his neck. Biting her lip, she glanced up at him through her eyelashes. He was smiling at her. His cheeks flushed red-probably burning as much as hers were at the moment. He laughed, and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“Me too,” he whispered against her skin. “I like you so much I'm gonna explode, haha.”

“Can I say something? It’s kinda cheesy,” Hinata started as they biked home.

“Mhm,” Yachi hummed, nuzzled against his shoulder.

“I think of you every time I use that highlighter. The yellow one. It’s the only highlighter I’ve ever owned. And it’s probably gonna stay the only highlighter I ever have. Is that weird?” he looked back sheepishly and chuckled.

Yachi laughed, shaking her head. “No not at all. I got that orange highlighter because it reminded me of you, after all. Or well, your hair specifically. But you, by extension.”

“What do you like more. Me, or my hair?”

“Hmm… that’s a tough question… Can you get back to me on that?”

“No! Yachi! You have to answer right now! Wait,” he stopped the bike by a lamppost. Hopping off, he held out his hands for her to take like she was getting off a carriage. She flushed, giggling, and hopped off with his hands in hers. “I forgot something.”

“Did you leave something behind at the riverbank?” she hoped not. They could go back and look for whatever he’d lost, but it was dark now. And any luck would be wasted right now. She’d try though, if that’s what-

“Oh, no! No that’s fine. I just. I realized I didn’t-AHHHH!” he shook his head several times like he was scaring away the ghosts in the attic. “Yachi Hitoka! Will you be my girlfriend please?” he yelled for as loud as the neighborhood could hear. “I know I’ll be leaving and we’ll be far apart for a while but I like you a lot! I like you so much! I’ll call you every night! I’ll wish you good morning and good night! I’ll send you pictures of my sandy feet! I want to share everything about this new world I’m going into and I hope you want to do the same! So please consider me as your boyfriend, thank you!”

Hinata Shouyou was a bag of surprises. When she thought she had him figured out, Hinata just threw Yachi for a loop.

But that’s what made her drawn to him. That’s what made her like him.

“Yes!” she yelled, just as loud. Surely the neighbors would wake up but she didn’t care. “Hinata Shouyou I want to be your girlfriend! I want you to be my boyfriend and show me your sandy feet and I’ll show you my not sandy feet! I want to call you all the time! I want to support you on your journey even when we’re oceans apart! I want to continue being with you for as long as I can! I like you! I accept! Be my boyfriend, please!”

Hinata cupped her face and leaned in for another kiss.

Under the flickering lamp post on a late, spring evening where their final days were drawing in.

But their first moments, together, were only beginning.

#hinayachi #yachihina #hinata shouyou #yachi hitoka #haikyuu #my fics

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cottonwoolsocks · 5 years ago

Text

Roman’s Berry Jam

AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: It was only a matter of time before the next Side was given their own Crofter’s Brand jam, and there was little surprise when it was awarded to Janus. Janus deserved it. No Side was more fitting. At least, that was what Roman kept telling himself.

Or; Remus makes his brother a present to try and cheer him up.

Word Count: 2969 Genre: hurt/comfort, canonverse Characters: Roman, Remus, Janus, others mentioned Relationships: Creativitwins, platonic Janus & Roman & Remus

Warnings: food theme, slight gory imagery mention

If I need to tag anything else, let me know!

inspired by this post by @julia-loves-cupcakes because there was no way i could just leave roman like that :(

disclaimer i am thoroughly confused by the correct terminology for this wonderful fruit spread (jam? jelly?? confiture????)(/j), so i shall be referring to it as ‘jam’. hopefully that clears up any related confusions!

———

It came as a surprise to no one when it was announced that Janus would be getting the next Crofter’s flavour. He was well liked, and quick-witted, and a Dark Side, which made for a diverse branding appeal following Logan, the stoic and straightforward Light Side.

When Thomas told Janus the news, Janus had shocked everyone by practically bursting into tears as he clasped the jar, eyeing it as if it may break and scanning the room for any signs of a set-up, a prank, a cruel fabrication. But Logan and Patton, the only other Sides present, had simply smiled, and congratulated him, and voiced their approval. The simple glass jar became almost symbolic of Janus’s acceptance and place in the group.

Janus deserved the achievement.

No Side was more fitting.

At least, that was what Roman kept telling himself.

It would have been ludicrous for Roman to assume he would be next. After all, Roman? He was just another Light Side like Logan—just another character who had been there from the start: who was the same, really, in the eyes of business and branding.

And besides—Roman berries just didn’t exist.

Loganberries were the ideal signature, and snake berries the perfect next equivalent—neither recipe contained either of the named fruits, but that was insignificant to the wider appeal; it was sufficient for display, and advertising, and portraying a certain image, which at the end of the day was what was important.

Roman understood the importance of appearances. He understood why Janus was the ideal next choice.

Janus was suave, had an eye-catching colour scheme, already had well-established snake symbolism in his character. Snake berries were the serendipitous berry on the cake: the apposite mark of his acceptance into the group, the fitting next step in their story as Janus became more popular, as his character gained traction amongst fans.

Roman knew it made sense. He knew it was the rational next step, and that no Side was better suited, and that it was only practical that it was Janus who was to bear this particular crown.

So why, pray tell, was he so disappointed?

He had just assumed, he supposed, that he was more important. More popular. That the loyal prince who had been present from the beginning, who had been star of the show, loved and adored from the get-go, may hold even the smallest of loyalty cards over any who came after.

He had reasoned—foolishly, it seemed now—that his red, white, and gold design, the one he had designed so carefully to raise to perfection, would be ideal for any future product or design or endeavour that could come about—that it balanced the perfectitude of his character, of his design, yet was still bold and eye-catching enough to have an aesthetic impact.

He was a prince. And princes were popular, and celebrated, and loved.

...Weren’t they?

Roman’s hand slips away from the banister at the top of the stairwell as the light catches the label of the jar clutched in Janus’s fingers. He sees how happy, how thankful Janus is, and remembers how Janus is nice to him, Janus is his friend, and he would never wish ill upon his friends.

But as his eyes linger on Thomas’s proud face, Logan’s expression of approval, Patton’s excitement, the way Janus’s gloved hands cradle the jar—he can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.

Of spite.

His hand slips away from the banister, and he turns and walks back along the corridor, back to his room, suggestions of a night of Disney movies dead on his lips and a request for Patton’s baked cookies forgotten, despite how long he had puzzled the previous evening to make sure everything was organised just right, that nobody would be busy, that he had no projects due so he could spend as long as possible with his family.

They know tonight is movie night.

But they have other things to think about now. Other achievements to celebrate. Such opportunities did not come by frequently, and often swept past in but the most fleeting of chances.

He understands. He does.

The door clicks as Roman pulls it shut, collapsing onto his bed and not even flinching as his ankle clips painfully against the bedpost. He breathes in the scent of his duvet, familiarity easing the tension in his shoulders just a fraction as he screws up his fists and eyes.

Princes just aren’t as popular anymore.

It is almost an hour later when there are a flurry of knocks on his door.

He has been listening to the clamour downstairs for some time now, to the celebrations, the cheesy pop music Patton has no doubt judged befitting of the occasion. Roman assumes they don’t want him there, and to be quite honest isn’t sure he wants to go and find out if there is truth in such an assumption, isn’t sure if the celebrations and Janus’s smiling face will simply be too much too soon. He knows he is being selfish—that Janus deserves this, at least—but it’s hard to feel truly happy for someone's achievements when they stand as one of the few things you thought you maybe, just maybe, had a shot at.

There is a rush of air as the door swings open and someone takes a few steps inside, trips, and stumbles inelegantly forward with a barrage of emphatically placed swear words. Roman’s head snaps up, trying subtly to dry his eyes with his uniform sleeve and hoping the redness from the tears that definitely hadn’t been running down his face until only ten minutes prior could by now be passed as exhaustion.

“What do you want?” he snaps, because when does Remus visit him other than to pull a prank, or tease him? Roman is not in the mood—that much he hopes is clear to his brother from his tone and impassive expression. Since Janus’s acceptance into the Light Sides, Remus had largely been keeping himself to himself, popping up to share his usual quips and comments but never lingering longer than necessary, making it even more abnormal for the Dark Side to be making one such entrance now.

Remus looks up, grinning and oblivious to Roman’s disapproval as he straightens his jacket to its usual devoted dysregulation and clips the eyeball decor on his shoulder back into its rightful place.

“Made you a gift!”

Something small and hard and exceptionally pointed makes a target of Roman’s eye and he cries out, batting it away and shielding his face as antagonised tears threaten to escape. He curses, scrambling upright and muttering obscenities under his breath as he glares at his brother.

Remus offers him a grin and a thumbs up as he tries and fails to surreptitiously rectify the rumpled carpet. “No worries, Ro!”

As the pain in his eye begins to subside Roman gingerly pulls his hand away, blinking through the protective tears at the still-vaguely-fuzzy outline of the offending object.

The jar, he finds, fits snugly in his palm, and through the angled glass Roman can see a red, gelatinous substance which on a good day may vaguely resemble jam, if he didn’t know Remus better than that. Scrawled words adorn a label smeared across the front, and although the letters are barely legible, years’ practice decoding his brother’s handwriting on strategically placed, lewd sticky notes and witty comments on the corners of old magazines allows him to more or less determine the phrase:

Roman’s Berry Jam.

Alongside the words is a large heart which looks to have been traced upwards of fifteen times in colours Roman wasn’t even aware could clash quite so horrifically, and a small, golden crown adorns the ‘R’ with a ruby gemstone fixed centre of the tallest spike. The red substance is smeared over most available surfaces and when Roman glances down, he sees it has, naturally, also found its way onto his previously pristine bedsheets—but he can’t find it within himself to mind.

“Is this…?”

“Roman’s Berry Jam! I thought you deserved some, since you are the brave and daring Prince Roman!” And then, more quietly, “You looked disappointed when you saw J get his jar.” He shifts from foot to foot, energetic demeanour fading slightly to something more sombre. “Is it… Did I do good?”

The lid comes off with a satisfying pop as Roman twists it, and the smell of something indistinguishably fruity fills the room.

He almost smiles but forces his face to stay neutral, afraid his delicately arranged mask of indifference will shatter the moment he shows even a sliver more emotion. Remus moves to perch on the edge of Roman’s duvet, kicking his feet back and forward off the edge of the bed. They hit the floor with each backward swing, creating a rhythmical, thunk, thunk, thunk against the carpet as Roman tentatively dips his finger into the substance.

“What’s in this, then?” Roman offers, mentally kicking himself for not coming up with a more eloquent sentence. He is appreciative, truly, but whenever a situation such as this presents itself he always seems to find himself deflecting with a joke or a well-placed distraction, no matter how much this frustrates him. “Blood? Brain juice? Cat guts?”

“All things I did consider,” Remus replies, holding up a finger, “but no. Real berries, real jam! Of some sort. Not sure what sort. There are looooads of berries in the mindscape, you see, so it probably tastes like butts, but I was rather hoping it would be pleasurable—”

“Remus.”

Roman turns to face his brother, offering a watery smile as he clutches the randomised berry mix to his chest. The red is smeared all over his hands and his duvet and his white uniform, and somewhere in the back of Roman’s mind a voice is telling him it will stain, but he simply thanks the voice and pushes it aside in favour of holding the jar even closer.

“I love it.”

Remus’s face visibly eases, a smile swelling as his shoulders relax. “Wonderful; I was sure you were going to say you hated it.”

Roman’s face morphs to one of confusion. “Whyever would I say such a thing?”

Remus’s foot rubs restlessly against his leg as he taps each of his fingers against one another, and examines the ceiling.

“People usually hate the stuff I make.”

In spite of the weight of his words, Remus’s face gives nothing away, as carefree and animated as always as his fingers dance and his feet drum steadily against the carpeted floor. A pang of regret pierces Roman’s chest, because he knows it is true. Has always known it's true, has even taken part, takes part in pushing his brother’s creations down—he practically leads the parade.

But now Roman is thinking about it, Remus portraying a face of constant playfulness inaccurate to his true emotions is no different to what Roman does constantly, is it? Putting on his brave and courageous face to disguise his insecurity?

Roman somewhat reluctantly tastes the jam.

“Sweet bear of Crofter’s,” he mouths around it. “This is outstanding!”

“Of course it is!” Remus fires back, but the anxious way he surveys Roman’s expression says otherwise as he scours for distaste or disgust or tomfoolery. “It is Roman’s Berry Jam, after all! And nothing subpar of perfection could be named after our dearest Prince!”

Roman isn’t so sure about that, but he appreciates the gesture nonetheless. Truth be told, he has missed his brother—little as he may rise to admit it. The tears of frustration have receded, leaving in their place a wateriness that he hasn’t felt in all too long, come from happiness, and thanks, and appreciation for those whom he loves.

“Say, would you be interested in a Disney night? Perhaps I’ll even allow you to share my jam.”

Remus grins. “I had disembowelment plans, but I think I can postpone them, for you.”

***

They are halfway through The Little Mermaid, a mixing bowl of Roman’s Berry Jam snug between them, when three sharp knocks echo against the wood of the door. Sharing a glance with Remus, Roman takes a generous scoop of jam and shovels it into his mouth before lodging the spoon upright in the bowl and motioning for Remus to pause the movie as he approaches the door.

Perhaps it was Patton, finally wondering where Roman has been for the whole evening, or Logan to come and share the recent good news he doesn’t know Roman is already painfully aware of. Roman even wonders if it could be Virgil, come to escape from the loud pop music still blaring from the living room downstairs to request a quiet Disney movie or for he and Roman to spend another evening painting each other’s nails, and a myriad of excuses were already running through his brain for how he might decline.

The very last person he expects to see standing uncharacteristically apologetically in the doorway is Janus.

“Buzz off! We’re vibing!” Remus calls from Roman’s bed, catapulting a spoonful of jam for good measure which drastically misses either possible target and instead splats sadly against the doorframe.

A smile tugs Roman’s lips, deciding Remus’s comment speaks enough for the both of them and turning to see what exactly Janus wants from him now.

He’s your friend, the little voice in the back of Roman’s head reminds him, which he is beginning to realise sounds awfully like Patton. His achievements are not an excuse for you to be unkind.

“Good evening, Roman,” Janus says, expression giving little away as he regards him evenly. “I would like to…apologise.”

Roman’s hand slips from its perch on the door handle, brow creasing in confusion and a healthy serving of distrust.

Janus releases a measured exhale, and continues, “I didn’t see you at the top of the stairwell earlier this evening, when Thomas presented the Crofter’s. I’ve been trying to get away all evening since then, but”—he sighs frustratedly, and his eyelids momentarily flutter in distaste—“the others were...adamant that I remain downstairs to celebrate. I was not only just able to slip away as I convinced Patton to change the music to something less repugnant.”

As if on cue, the bubbly pop music echoing from the living room switches to a more sombre jazz number, and Janus’s eyes flick towards the stairwell.

“I find it important that I inform you I did not orchestrate tonight’s turn of events, and quite frankly I believe it unjust that you were not, at the very least, consulted on such a decision, especially given your earlier enthusiasm.”

Remus tosses another spoon of jam, this one smacking directly into the centre of Janus’s bowler hat.

His eyes flutter closed as he visibly bites back a retort.

“Remus, kindly desist.”

Remus cackles and begins to load another spoon, but a subtle shake of the head from Roman has him sighing dramatically, choosing instead to sulk as he plops the spoon into his mouth. “Jam war,” he mumbles disappointedly.

Janus gives Roman a curt nod of thanks, adjusting his gloves and turning to leave, looking vaguely embarrassed. “Well, that’s all I came to say, so I shall be on my way.”

“Janus, I—”

Janus turns, looking puzzled and a little perturbed as his nose crinkles slightly. Roman rocks back on the balls of his feet, and comes to a decision, avoiding Janus’s gaze as he offers his next words.

“Would you care to join Remus and I in our Disney marathon?”

Janus’s eyes flick to one side and he waits for a moment, as if expecting for Roman to change his mind or for Remus to come charging out with another spoonful of jam aimed at his head.

When nothing of the sort occurs, his expression softens. Just a little.

“Yes. I would like that.”

Roman steps back to allow Janus through the doorway, and swings the door closed behind him with a click.

***

Remus stretches his leg out further, sprawling himself ever wider over the space available to him which consists approximately of his third of the bed and as much of Roman’s space as he can liberate without being apprehended. His jam is a success, he is spending time with Janus again, and the genuine appreciation emanating from his brother is almost palpable. Just for good measure, he smears a little of the jam onto Roman’s nose. Just to remind him he’s still there.

Roman’s nose scrunches as the substance makes contact, but he doesn’t move to wipe it away. Instead, he just elbows his brother softly, achieving more of a gentle sway while crushed under most of Remus’s weight. He smiles, and takes another spoonful of jam.

Janus shakes his head fondly. He hasn’t seen Remus nearly as often since being accepted by the Light Sides, and much as some of Remus’s more...inventive antics...used to irritate him, he has found himself missing his constant predictable unpredictability. It is nice—refreshing—to see him again: especially without the usual weight of all the words yet unspoken between them. But that is business for another time.

Roman supposes that, even if he hasn’t got his own Crofter’s flavour just yet, Remus’s Roman Berry Jam is certainly the next best thing, even with the assortment of greenery he had found in the spread that he isn’t entirely sure was intentional. It was better, even, because Roman’s Berry Jam comes with a complimentary friend-brother combo (cuddles included), an eve of Disney movies, and, finest of all, the feeling that however much he may feel he isn’t good enough, or liked enough, or successful enough, he is appreciated. And for now—for this one, anomalous evening—that is all that he needs.

#sanders sides #roman sanders #remus sanders #sanders sides fanfic #janus sanders #creativitwins #thomas sanders #rian writes #fanfic #tw food #tw gore mention #taglists to follow!#ts remus #ts roman #ts janus

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petitemingi · 4 years ago

Text

─ ੈ༊ your customer is: yunho

vanilla bean latte

The smell of the double chocolate chip cookies you'd just pulled out of the oven wafted through the kitchen of Sunrise Cafe.

The customers in the seated areas, spoke softly to one another: some laughing, most sipping away at their evening macchiatos and lattes

All seemed peaceful...

until seonghwa came storming into the kitchen

"___" his voice sounded stern and looking at him, he seemed annoyed, and almost offended

"what is it, hwa? frappe machine broken again?"

"no. remember that construction up the road?"

ah, now would be a great time to explain this.

over the past few weeks, construction had started but a few buildings away

there had been plenty of rumours speculating what it could be; a restaurant, a charity shop, maybe a take away joint

but judging from Seonghwa's expression, it wasn't any of those

"it's another god damn cafe! I can't believe someone would authorise that! is our sign not big enough??"

"oh my god, we could lose customers! When's it opening??"

you'd throw off your apron, leaving it in a heap on the floor of the kitchen, rushing towards the entrance door

and there it was, just down the road, a newly build building, no smaller than Sunrise Cafe, stood gleaming in the summer sunset.

"you've got to be kidding me"

soon caught up by Seonghwa, the two of you stand glaring at the building - it was much more modern than your cafe

the windows seemed larger, there was even a second floor!

"we're gonna be bankrupt by Christmas"

"nah, not Christma, hwa..."

the two of you look at each other

"Halloween"

a sign was hung pristine over the front of the cafe, it read "Crescent Cafe" in a swirly font with colourful lights outlining the words

Seonghwa slouched his shoulders - the thought of it even taking his customers drained the energy from him

"well," you begin "who says this cafe won't be absolute crap? maybe they'll drive away more customers than they gain?"

"y'know if we lose customers, the cost for our cafe comes outta your wages?"

"we need to investigate... when did you say it opens?"

"monday"

"oh"

the both of you trail back to Sunrise, your shoulders slouched, head bowed and spirits low

being the only cafe in the area had made really good business; you'd had so many fun and unique customers, and everyone loved the atmosphere your cafe had

during the day, the cafe was at it busiest, so income was at it's highest, and produce was sold out quickest

having a rival cafe would take a lot of that away

pastries would go to waste, not to mention all the coffee that'd be left over

after Seonghwa had told the rest of the staff about the new cafe, everyone seemed to look a li'l depressed

you all worked hard to build up such a nice li'l cafe, and a great team - what if the new cafe tried to hire them??

what if the customers gave up on Sunrise Cafe?

what if everyone's thoughts on Sunrise were changed? buisness could plummet!

that's when the little bell over the door jingled quietly

the muttering exchanged between staff came to a stop as you walked towards the till

"hi there, welcome to sunrise cafe, what can I get you?"

looking up at the customer came as a shock to you, he was so tall!

his hair was a golden brown, covering the top of his eyes slightly

he wore a trench coat of a lighter colour with the colar popped slightly to keep himself warm, and his eyes seemed to match

"um... actually... I'm from the cafe over there, uh, Crescent Cafe... i-"

"then do us all a favour and get out-" Seonghwa hung his apron on his peg, folding his arms and walking into the staff room behind the counter

he still wasn't too happy about that cafe - it'd shaken him quite a bit

"s-sorry about him, he's just a little, how should I put this? upset? about y'know"

"me opening a cafe right next to yours? ah jeez, I'm sorry"

the Crescent Cafe owener folded his arms, an apologetic smile creeping onto his face

"if it's okay though, do you have any sugar I might be able to borrow for Monday? I don't know where to get a bag"

"oh, sure, I guess just don't tell Seonghwa - he'll throw a fit"

"I'm guessing that's the guy who just left?"

the owner laughed, shaking his head "but while I'm here, would it be okay if I got a vanilla bean latte? I... haven't actually tried one before"

"oh? well lemme tell you you're missing out" you'd reach behind you, grabbing a large mug, walking over to the latte machine.

it wouldn't take too long to make, just a few minutes

but in that time, the customer would've already sat down at a table, admiring the decorations of the cafe around him, probably mentally noting things down to use in his own cafe

placing the mug in front of him, the customer invited you to sit with him

"I actually have a few questions, y'know, about running a cafe of my own... i just figured that Seonghwa guy wouldn't wanna talk to me about it"

"sure, that's okay, I can answer a few questions for you... so long as they aren't about hiring me or the rest of my team"

he laughed, picking up the mug and taking a sip, a warm hum sounding out as he did so

"my name's Yunho, by the way" he seemed quite shy introducing himself, looking to his left towards the counter and taking another sip of his latte

you'd nod, smiling to yourself at his timidness

"well, if we're doing that, my name's _____"

yunho looked surprised when you announced your name, probably because he hadn't expected you to reply - after all, everyone else behind the counter seemed pretty sour towards him.

the two of you spoke for a few minutes about the misunderstanding of yunho's new cafe being right next to yours, different coffee recipes and menus

before long, 10pm came, and the atmosphere from earlier died down.

Yunho had made a list on his phone, compiled of useful tips and some pretty cool coffee recipies- all things he couldn't wait to try himself.

but with the time, Yunho found himself needing to leave.

"hey, ____" he'd start "w-would it be a problem if I asked you to help me out on Monday? j-just for an hour or two in the morning!"

you'd look behind you at Seonghwa, who had (and for quite a while now) been glaring at Yunho over the till.

facing Yunho again though, came the real challenge

"are you gonna pay me?"

"y-yeah, I can pay you"

he shrugged his shoulders slightly

"it's just that I haven't been able to hire anyone yet..."

you frowned at him, a scowl forming from the unsure smile you'd shown but seconds before

"you haven't hired staff yet? and you're opening doors in two days?"

"o-oh yeah I wasn't really-"

"what kind of crap is that?"

"____" Seonghwa's voice called from behind you, almost cold eyes meeting your own. he seemed to have emerged from the staff room "come here"

with that scowl now morphing into a frown, you'd make your way over to him, arms crossed and head looking at the floor in disgust

"hwa, he doesn't-"

"help him"

"w-what?"

"help him" Seonghwa shrugged his shoulders, a slight smile creeping onto his face

you'd turn back to Yunho, watching him sip his coffee as he tried to avoid any direct eye contact.

"f i n e" you'd say "but I'm getting paid extra next week"

"or you could get on with it and you can leave an hour early on Tuesday?"

Monday came, and your shift began at 10am, by which time a small line of curious people had formed.

walking inside you were greeted by Yunho, taken a back by the modern decoration of the cafe

the walls were brick, no wallpaper or paint hiding them away

and there was a huge mirror hung on the wall besides the counter

the aprons here were blue, not a warm maroon like the one you wore over at Sunrise, but the menu boards were pretty much the same

an array of drinks were displayed there; iced lattes, cappuccinos, hot chocolates, mochas

but the one that stood out was written in bright blue chalk

'today's special: Sunrise Vanilla Bean Latte'

that made you smile a little

"so, what do you want me to do?"

Yunho put his hand to his chin in thought, tapping lightly before mumbling something

"huh?"

"oh uh I... just do what you do over at Sunrise--"

for the rest of your 4 hour shift at Crescent Cafe that day, you helped plenty!

iced lattes and cappuccinos were the first to sell out, and the sitting areas were filled within 15 minutes

Crescent Cafe had become quite popular, as it would seem

Yunho could see the look of sadness creep onto your face

Sunrise had never been like this

you'd never sold out, or been filled up as dramatically as this

Seonghwa was right, sunrise would most likely go bankrupt by Christmas.

who'd want to go to your cafe when one like this existed

"hey, ____" Yunho called out to you from the other side of the counter "come here"

but seeing you refuse and continuing to serve customers at the till, he walked over himself, standing beside you

"___, I think I should talk to your Seonghwa about something"

"about what?"

"just... something"

so Yunho took off his apron, folded it neatly and placed it on a shelf under the counter and walked down the street to Sunrise Cafe

going inside, everything seemed unusually empty

whereas before, it would've been bustling with customers

Yunho was met with that familiarly cold stare, greeted with an equally icy tone

"you're back" Seonghwa stood at the counter, arms folded across his chest, eyebrows formed to scowl

"y-yeah, listen" Yunho began, his courage now a memory "i wanted to talk to you about the cafe"

"the cafe?" Seonghwa repeated "what about my cafe?"

"not your cafe, my cafe" Yunho mumbled just loud enough for Seonghwa to hear

"go on then"

the two of them sat at an empty table by the counter, with Yunho crossing his legs nervously

"so?"

"i want to make an agreement" Yunho said "I want to make an agreement about opening times"

"why?"

"so that you get your customers and I get mine" Yunho continued "what do you say to me opening over the weekend aaaaand Mondays?"

a patial silence flooded the room, only the occasional clink of mugs from behind the counter could be heard

Seonghwa looked to his right in thought, would this really be any help to either of their cafes? what'd happen in say a few years time, when neither of their cafes drew in customers? would it still be okay then?

a sigh escaped his lips

"Yunho," he'd begin "if it werent for your cafe, I'd have let you work here with us, ___ could use the help but..."

he folded his arms again, head shaking slightly

"but you seem to be kinda happy with your own cafe. you shouldn't let something like another cafe down the road get in the way of your own achievements. you don't have to make an agreement, just do what you want"

a small smile lifted the corners of Seonghwa's lips as he stood up, placing a hand on yunho's shoulder

"i'll let you decide, Yunho"

closing time over at Crescent Cafe couldn't have come sooner - your arms hurt, your feet felt numb and you had pins and needles in your left leg

yunho leaned against the wall just behind the counter, quietly observing you as you waved goodbye to the last few customers to leave before letting out a light chuckle at your pained state

"tired, ___?"

"i swear to god i'd better be getting double what i get at Sunrise, that was brutal! you seriously need more staff"

yunho smiled softly. you took off your apron and hung it on a peg on the wall by yunho, before letting out a large sigh and pushing your hair back out of your face

"i spoke to seonghwa"

your ears pricked up at the mention of seonghwa - you hadn't really seen him since saturday

"yeah?"

"and i've come to the decision that i'll open monday, thursday and on weekends - i think it's only fair considering how your cafe was here before mine and it's apparently the best cafe in the area sooo"

yunho's hand hovered over the back of his neck, a nervous laugh escaping his lips at what he had to say

you were more than happy to hear that - no shade on Crescent Cafe of course - but the feeling of guilt still lingered

"well..." you began "i guess i'll head back to start what's left if my shift over there... lemme know if you need anything"

and within minutes you'd grabbed your coat and had headed inside Sunrise cafe to continue your shift, noticeably happier there.

"___! just dropping in cuz i ran outta sugar again... have any i could borrow?"

"god, order your own sugar! this is the third time this month - it's under the counter"

business at both cafes continued to blossom

Crescent Cafe's hours suited the staff, and it worked flexibly around the booming popularity of Sunrise Cafe - closing at 10pm every night it was open.

"thanks, ___! see you later ~"

seonghwa and yunho seemed to be getting on better too

maybe it was just another one of those peculiar experiences passing by at Sunrise Cafe ~

#ateez #ateez soft hours #kpop #ateez atiny #kpop soft hours #atiny #kq entertainment #kq fellaz #ateez imagines #kpop aesthetic #ateez yunho #yunho soft hours #yunho scenarios #yunho imagines #ateez cafe!

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oneofyatosfollowers · 4 years ago

Text

Yatori Week 2021- Day 4

@yatoriweek2021

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32090953/chapters/79500055

Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13905660/1/Yatori-Week-2021

Yukine was in the living room studying for midterms when his dad busted the door down and flounced into the room.

This was a common occurrence, as this man was not his biological dad, but rather a once concerned neighbor that adopted him and was therefore hardly a decade older than the teen. There could be many reasons why his dad, a man named Yato, was excited:

He saw something to do with Capybaras

He got an extra sketchy side job for pocket change

The weather was nice

He bought junk with said pocket change

Anything to do with his beloved girlfriend, Hiyori

Based on the way the young man skipped into the living room, high on cloud nine, Yukine could only assume it was the last option. With sigh, Yukine closed his textbook and readied himself to lose the rest of his study time. Yato tended to talk about his girlfriend for hours on end, like he’s never seen nor heard of them before her, and Yukine would not be able to focus. Now, Yukine liked his dad’s girlfriend. Loved her in fact. His dad was her art tutor- and class nude model- in college since she struggled with the subject as a medical major. Eventually she had become Yukine’s tutor in everything else except math, which was reserved for his dad. It was unclear if Yato hired her, or she did it out of the kindness of her heart, or the two just wanted to see more of each other, but Hiyori wormed her way into both their hearts.

“Yukine!”

“What?” Yukine drawled. His dad was a whirlwind of smiles and flailing arms as he tumbled towards Yukine. Used to this too, the blonde simply waited for Yato to sit directly in front of him without knocking him over. Yukine blinked as his dad struggled to find the words to communicate in a language they both understood. It tended to take some time, as falling in love with Hiyori Iki was a grand affair that wrestled your heart and tied your tongue. She tended to have that effect on people, as most kind-angels did. However, when all he did was wheeze and let out a strange coo mixed with a whine, Yukine couldn’t help but scoff and roll his eyes.

“I did it!” Yato beamed.

“Did what?”

“I finished that old lady’s kitchen and finally got enough money!” He burst. In a fit of laughter that strangers might have thought was madness, the young man rolled onto his back and kicked his feet. It took a moment for Yukine to realize his theory was somehow wrong before he crawled over top of his dad.

“What-ugh,” Yukine slapped away the hands that covered the man’s face, “what are you saving for? You never save money. I’m surprised we haven’t missed any bills yet.” Hands away his face, his dad’s bright blue eyes stared into Yukine’s hazel, full of unbridled joy . That was hardly a good sign; Yato was known for extravagant plans that he got far too excited over. Especially when they failed more often than not. Honestly, Hiyori was a saint for staying with such a spaz.

“That’s the thing!” The man gasped. He didn’t wait for his son’s answer, leaping to his feet to dash into the kitchen. Meanwhile, Yukine was rolling his eyes, of course it was about her. Yato ran back to his spot on the floor next to his son.

“Our two year anniversary is coming up in a few weeks and you know it’s around that time! The age, the lifestyle, the current situation,” he swooned, “her parents and Kofuku and Daikoku!”

“What. Are you talking about?” Yukine groaned as he kneaded his forehead. Just because his dad was capable of speech, didn’t mean he used it properly.

“I want to propose,” he said, “I want to propose to Hiyori.” The three magazines that he clenched in his hands were squeezed so tightly they crinkled. This time it was big blue eyes that watched Yukine struggle to find words. Yukine sucked in air, swallowed, stared, opened his mouth with nothing to come out, blinked a few times, then swallowed again. The logical part of this brain just shrugged, this was the obvious next step. They loved each other, were old enough, and that was usually the point of dating, what it led to. It wouldn’t change their day to day. The emotional side was shocked, blindsided, and completely convinced this would change everything.

Just the word ‘proposal’ was heavy in Yukine’s mind because ‘proposal’ led to ‘wedding’ which means ‘marriage’ which equals ‘family.’ Not that they weren’t already a family, they moved in to Hiyori’s place a little less than a year ago but that was a financial decision if anything. The more childish part of Yukine, the one that had originally protested the relationship and acted out during the first month of their dating, feared that this would take away even more of Yato’s attention. Because the fact was that marriage led to more children. But Yukine knew better than that by now. On the other hand, families, something Yukine had once before Yato, left a sour taste in his mouth. What’s more, this would without a doubt make Hiyori his ‘mother’ and this would mean Yukine wouldn’t just have a ‘parent’ but ‘parents,’ functioning ones that both loved him.

That last thought resonated in Yukine’s chest. Yato and Hiyori loved him very much, unconditionally, and he loved them. They were already a family and Yukine- Yukine wouldn’t mind calling Hiyori ‘mom’ if she ever wanted to adopt him. But most importantly, Yukine finally let his eyes drop from Yato’s and fall to the magazines. They were all for different jewelry stores, the outlines of their pages lined with little color tabs. Yukine could imagine they were covered in little notes and doodles from long before this moment. Most importantly, Yato deserved this. He was a single, smart, and kind young man that worked his way from the very bottom. Even Yukine was old enough to understand that for someone in that position- an impoverished college student- that Yato had taken on a lot, adopting him. It couldn’t have been easy to find someone. Someone as genuine as Hiyori who loved him just as much. Yato deserved this and he deserved to have Yukine support him. Which Yukine found that he truly, truly did.

“That’s great,” Yukine finally said. His voice cracked from the emotion and worry flashed across Yato’s face. But with one sniff and a genuine smile, Yukine showed that he was happy for them. The two dissolved into excited giggles and laughter, eyes blurry with emotion.

“I want you to help me pick it out. I want you with me when I buy it and help me plan the whole thing! I want you to be there with me, I need my kiddo for support,” Yato confessed. Blinking away the moist sheen, Yukine nodded once with a wobbly smile. His dad laughed with every ounce of giddiness and happiness that Yukine felt.

“Originally I was going to make one-”

“No,” Yukine said offhandedly as he wiped his eyes. Yato waved his hands and put down the magazines.

“I know! I know. This is super important and Hiyori deserves the actual ring. The best of the best! I can’t keep getting away with handmade gifts,” Yato said as he opened to a tab in each of the magazines. Yukine eyed the objects he circled and crossed out, writing everywhere.

“You make great hand-made gifts,” Yukine muttered as he fiddled with the cuff of his hand-made christmas sweater. His dad looked up to him, down at his hands, then back up with a smile.

“Well, I was thinking of making her golden knucklebusters, with diamonds of course, as an early wedding present.” Yato huffed.

“She’d like that a lot,” Yukine laughed, “just don’t let her parents see.”

“Oh god no! They already hardly like me.”

“They like you.”

“Yeah, cause I fix their house for free. Redo their kitchen,” Yato mumbled, “I hope they approve of this. I already asked them but the dad seemed more on board with it than her mom.”

“Hey,” Yukine nudged his dad, “that’s a good sign. At least you asked first.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right! This is good! She just needs to say yes.”

“She’ll say yes,” Yukine huffed with another roll of his eyes. Despite himself, even Yukine felt the small spark of fear at the possibility of Hiyori saying otherwise. They flipped through the magazines for a couple minutes longer, Yukine balking at the prices and mental math of costs per month.

“Ah!” Yato suddenly shot up and grabbed both of Yukine’s hands, knocking the book out of his hands.

“H-hey!” Yukine sputtered, wincing at his dad’s sweaty hands.

“But you can’t tell anyone!” Yato insisted, “this is a surprise. It has to stay a secret. Okay? Don’t tell anyone. Okay?”

“Okay!” Yukine finally yanked his hands away.

“You promise?” Yato urged, leaning even closer. His son shoved his face away and picked up his magazine.

“Yes! Yes! I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

They really were made for each other, Yukine thought a couple days later, like soulmates. Once again he was at home, heading to his room after Yato dropped him off. They had a family dinner later and Yukine wanted to chill at home with Hiyori while Yato went to prepare for the proposal. The house was quiet when he walked in so Yukine slipped the quarts of ice cream in the freezer and made his way to his room. Hiyori must be in bed. She hadn’t been feeling well recently, getting nauseous everyday for the past week. All those thoughts went out the window when, on the way to his room, the bathroom door cracked open and Hiyori’s head popped out.

“Yukine!” She hissed, “Yukine!” If it weren’t for her eyes being so wide and pleading, Yukine might have felt a bit more embarrassed by the sight. He stopped short in the hall.

“What’s wrong?” He said immediately. First she looked nervously off to the side, then to him, then up, then behind her, then back at him, letting out a whine disguised as a hum.

“What?” Yukine asked, a bit more nervously now. Still finding it difficult to answer, Hiyori’s arm slipped out and waved him over. Fearing she might have a broken bone, Yukine took one look at the house phone then walked over to the bathroom door, heart in his throat.

“Are you ok-ay!” Yukine squawked as the front of his shirt was grabbed and he was yanked into the bathroom, the door slamming behind him. He quickly glanced behind him, at the barrier, then back at his friend. She looked nervous, which made Yukine nervous. He would even say she looked anxious, scared, but the air buzzed with an excited tension. In front of her, Hiyori played with her fingers as she struggled to meet his gaze.

“Hiyori, are you okay?” Yukine finally got out. She looked okay, well not ‘okay’ okay but physically safe. The sweat that beaded her brow and the way her knees almost knocked together said otherwise.

“Um,” Hiyori looked up then down, “yeah, yeah, I’m okay. I- I think so?” Terrified at the thought of anything bad happening, Yukine quickly approached her with his hands up.

“What happened? What’s wrong? Do you need me to call Yato? We should call-”

“No!” Hiyori blurted out, causing Yukine to flinch. At this point he was almost shaking, Hiyori was rarely against calling Yato, especially during emergencies. More than just being the man of the house, Yato knew everything! He was calm and cool under pressure and could take on any problem without delay, dropping everything to help. Yukine certainly didn’t want to deal with whatever this was without at least telling his dad. Seeing the panic bubble, Hiyori reached forward and gently held Yukine’s hands like she often did during these times.

“No, no, no, it’s okay! It’s nothing bad! Nothing’s wrong!” Hiyori comforted, “I just got worrie- excited! I’m nervous about something and I wanted to tell you in private. It’s okay, nobody’s in danger,” her words quickly calmed Yukine back down.

“O-oh, okay,” Yukine nodded, “so, so what’s up?” He stuck his hands in his pocket to hide their shaking while Hiyori went back to fiddling with her fingers.

“I have a, uh, surprise! For Yato. And I, uh, wanted to hear your thoughts first.” She stammered out. This was rather confusing, but Yukine was relieved to hear that was all it was. Maybe she had a big anniversary present planned that she wanted his opinion with.

“Oh okay, what is it?”

“Well it’s not an ‘it’ exactly. It’s more of a, uh, uh, thing? Not a thing! It’s not a thing! I’m a thing? I’m something? I-I-I have something to give to Yato. And you? The family. My family too, you know, once I tell them. I’m just not exactly sure,” Hiyori babbled just like her not-yet-fiance, looking all around. Yukine resisted the urge to roll his eyes- he stopped doing that to her ages ago- and he refused to rush her.

“It’s okay,” Yukine offered a smile, “I’m sure whatever the thing is, Yato will love it. You know how sappy he is, he’ll love it cause it comes from you and you mean it.”

“Haha, yeah,” she didn’t sound too convinced and Yukine worried about why.

“I mean it, he will.” Yukine tried again. This time, Hiyori seemed to get rather bleary eyed and she hugged herself.

“Maybe not this time, Yukine, I’m just not sure. I mean we talked about it but it’s too soon and- who knows- maybe he won’t?” She continued looking around the room, biting her lip. Yukine was still an awkward sort of a teen and not very good with crying young women so all he could think to do was squeeze her hands.

“Don’t say that, Hiyori, there’s nothing on this earth that he-”

“I’m pregnant.” Her confession rang throughout the empty bathroom, echoing against the tiles and Yukine’s ribs. The boy’s mouth clicked shut as all those images he’d imagined, with Yato fawning over another child that was actually his, flooded in. When Hiyori sniffed again, the pictures shattered, leaving a frightened young woman holding her stomach.

“Yukine, I’m pregnant,” she repeated. Swallowing Yukine let his hands lightly rub her arms up and down.

“That’s,” he breathed, “amazing.” The honest wonderment he felt bleed through his voice and Hiyori looked up at him, eyes shining with pure hope.

“Really?”

“Yes,” Yukine promised. They deserved to be happy and experience having a baby and raising them with all the love and care they gave Yukine. After all, they already saved his life. What more can he ask of them? Once again he found himself blinking away the moisture in his eyes, Hiyori trying to do the same.

“But, what about Yato? Do you think he’ll,” Hiyori bit her lip and Yukine struggled to find the words and push away any jealousy he felt. Of course he wanted to be Yato’s one and only, for the man to never have kids of his own cause he had Yukine. But that was as selfish as it was stupid. Yato had a lot of love and Yukine knew he was no different than a son to him. Yato would never abandon him for something he deemed better and Yukine would be there to support him. Both of them.

“He will absolutely love them,” Yukine assured her, letting out a dry sob, “he’ll make the best dad.”

“Well, hehe, I think he already does?” Hiyori wiped under her eyes and Yukine found himself laughing.

“That’s right!” Yukine said, joyfully, “he’s the best.”

“Yeah, he is. The best I could ask for,” she murmured happily. The room was considerably warmer, lighter as Hiyori set her palms gently over her abdomen with a soft smile.

“Now I just have to tell him,” Hiyori said, “and my parents.”

“I’m sure they’ll be happy too,” Yukine sighed as he leaned against the door, “you haven’t told them yet?”

“No, they’re old fashioned and I would rather tell Yato first. So you can’t tell anyone!” Hiyori suddenly stepped forward with pleading eyes.

“Huh?”

“It’s a surprise! I want to tell him on our anniversary but I really need you to be there as support, so you can’t say anything, okay? Promise me you’ll keep it a secret!” She begged. Yukine gave his answer before he could think, not realizing until later what it would entail.

“I-I will! I’ll be there! And I promise I won’t say anything!”

The anniversary dinner reservation was booked at the restaurant Yato took Hiyori to on their very first date. It stood on the corner of an annual festival that followed the date and where Yato often took them every year since. In the car ride, various levels of anxious excitement is so palpable one of them could cut it with a knife. The excitement mostly came from the two adults in the front seat. Yukine, who sat behind Hiyori, was the majority of the anxiousness. Both hands were stuffed firmly in his jacket, balled up in his right hand was a little box protecting a diamond ring, his left was gently pinching the image of an ultrasound. He kept trying to rip his hands out of his pockets, worried about the cold sweat ruining such valuable commodities.

“So Yukine, are you excited about the festival?” Yato peaked at him through the rear-view mirror, smiling gleefully. It was unclear if his dad noticed Yukine’s flinch, but he quickly shoved his hands tight in his pockets and tried a smile.

“Y-yeah!” His voice cracked and Yato let out an awkward laugh. In the passenger seat, Hiyori turned around to look at him with an equally wobbly smile and a nod.

“We’re glad you can come with us to dinner this time,” she said, “right Yato?”

“Sure are! Soon you’ll be too old for us to force you to come on our dates!” Yato laughed. Even with the implication, the air in the car was considerably lighter. Yukine found himself laughing too, secretly knowing that there would never come a day he would need to be forced. While anniversary dinners were different, dinners with your parents hopefully lasted forever.

“Yato!” Hiyori chided through her giggles, giving him a good whack on the arm. The family continued to snicker as Yato pulled into a parking spot. He ran around the car to open the door for his beloved, taking her hand and helping her out. Yukine’s amusement sank like a rock when both the adults gave him a pointed look and a nod, he was reminded of what was to come. Giving his name, Yato could barely contain his excitement as the waitress brought them to a raised booth in the back.

“Yato,” Hiyori said with a light gasp. It was unclear if she noticed that this booth was the only one with fake roses strung up along the back but Hiyori wore a look of awe as she sat down on the other side of the candle.

“Two years,” he sang in reply.

“Yukine, you can take off your coat,” Hiyori suggested.

“N-nah that’s okay!” Yukine said. Both of them must have understood the implication because neither of them pressed it. They took a glance at the menu and eventually, the waiter came to take their orders, offering the most expensive bottle of champagne that Yato had already paid for.

“Oh, uh, no thank you, I’ll just have water, please,” Hiyori asked as she shut the menu and handed it to him. Yukine watched the waiter flash Yato a lost look who just nodded as he handed his own menu.

“I’ll have a colosi,” Yato said. The meal picked up quickly after that, the three of them ordering good dishes. Shortly after they started to dig in, the violinist Yato had called from college- a man with glasses named Kazuma- came over and began to play.

“Mmm!” Hiyori slurped down her pasta, “this is our song!”

“Hmm?” Yato cocked his head.

“Our song! You know, the one they played at the after party for the art exhibit? Our first dance,” Hiyori said. She ducked her head, looking suitably embarrassed until Yato hummed.

“I remember! Of course I do,” Yato smiled, “best night of my life.” Love in the air, they finished their meal, sharing a dessert Yato treated Yukine too. Once the dinner was complete, Yato distracted Hiyori long enough for Yukine to run and give Kazuma a tip and the next phase. Then Yukine jogged after them, the three of them walking out into the festival. Hiyori, rather obviously, tugged Yato off to the right. The woman on track to being a doctor was clever enough to know her romantic boyfriend would be taking them to the spot of their first kiss. Of course he did that every year, but Hiyori hoped being in such a nostalgic place would help the news to be received more positively.

Still, the two of them put a lot of effort into making sure Yukine felt included. Part of him thought this was just done out of gratitude for his help, but they’ve taken him here more than enough times for Yukine to understand they just wanted him to have fun too. Of course, this was still part of Yato’s extremely detailed plan. A handful of the game stands held certain prizes that Yato planted for the proposal. So far, Yato carried a hand-made scarf that mimicked something Hiyori used to wear while they were dating, a small wooden house that was used in sketch class, a box of sparklers, and binoculars. Currently, Hiyori was selecting another prize Yato and Yukine won for her by playing darts. Based on Yato’s instructions, the man offered Hiyori the prize box of fake jewelry, one of which was real and hand made. Knowing her, she would notice the pink-flowered charm and select it.

“I’ll have to go back for that bottle,” Yato sighed as he watched his love look over the options.

“I can go back and put it in the car,” offered Yukine.

“No, no, no, I need you here with me,” his dad looked at him, “I can’t do this without you.” He sounded confident but his eyes were so scared that Yukine couldn’t help but nod. Yukine had made a promise to himself some time ago that he would protect this eccentric, kind-hearted man that saved his life, from others who would try to take advantage of him or go out of their way to hurt him. Just like Yukine once did.

“I have tissues in case she says no and I put the ice cream in the freezer for you.”

“Haha! That’s my boy,” Yato let his fingers noogie Yukine’s hair and they laughed. The moment of truth was upon them. As Hiyori came back to them, showing off her new bracelet with the claim that it was something Yato would make for her. They walked to the edge of the street, the overview circling out over the park with a fence and benches. Yato handed the house and sparklers to Yukine, wrapping the light scarf around Hiyori’s neck. The fireworks would start in exactly seven minutes and Yukine still had both objects in his pockets.

“Yato,” Hiyori suddenly said, “I need to talk to you.” She looked at Yukine who stared back at her with wide eyes.

“What is it? We can talk here, you know,” Yato tried to get Hiyori to come towards the railing, but she remained firmly where she was.

“I just decided that I want,” she looked around, “some cotton candy!” Hiyori frantically pointed towards one of the mini carts.

“Wha-? Right now?” Yato’s shock and fear cracked his voice but he quickly tried to cover it with a laugh.

“How about after the fireworks? They’re going to start soon and you know how much I like-”

“Please Yato?” Hiyori put her hands together and cocked her head. From the middle of them, Yukine sucked air through his teeth and looked at Yato. Those were the big guns, Yato rarely said no to begging.

“Uh, um, okay, Hiyori. One-one sec!” Yato started towards the treats, “come on, Yukine!”

“No, no! That’s okay! Yukine can stay with me!” Hiyori insisted. She smiled when Yato just sputtered then ran off to retrieve the sweets.

“Okay, give it to me,” she frantically hushed.

“You’re going to do it now?” Yukine gave a quieted exclamation.

“I have to! I can’t let this continue without him knowing!” Hands shaking, Yukine handed the ultrasound to Hiyori who stuffed it under the top layer of her shirt against her spine. Once glance at the clock told Yukine there was four minutes until the fireworks would light up the sky and Kazuma would light the sparklers next to the matching mini wooden house just below them.

“Okay! Okay, here!” Yato ran back to them, “here you go, Hiyori!” He handed her a pink mass of sugar, shoving it in her face.

“Wha-! Yato!” Hiyori sputtered. As she struggled to get the sugary treat out of her face, Yato dove his hand in Yukine’s pocket and plucked out the ring.

“Heheh, sorry,” Yato said as he stuffed it into his pocket, “I tripped?” he offered as she moved the candy out of her face. As Yato smiled awkwardly at Hiyori’s narrowed eyes, the first firework of the night boomed in the sky. Slack-Jawed, the three of them looked up at the sky, then back at each other.

“Ah! It started!” Yukine gasped.

“Let’s go get a closer look Hiyori-”

“Yato, I have something for you!”

“I have something for you too, but, uh, it’s over here. So let’s go over here!” Yato was quicker, and louder, than Hiyori and managed to grab her wrist and pull her towards the railing. Deciding that his job was done- and that he didn’t want to really get caught in whatever was about to happen- Yukine chose to stay a couple feet back.

“Yato, I- '' Hiyori's words were caught with a gasp as she looked over the railing. On the stone patio that surrounded the park were a bunch of pigeons eating the seeds Yato had Kazuma put down just as they left the restaurant. Feeding pigeons was something Yato did a lot in college and one of the places Hiyori would find him sketching before they started dating.

“Look at them all!” She gasped at the massive heart made purely out of hungry pigeons. In the center of the feathered shape was a small note, leaning on the matching mini home, with fancy calligraphy made clear by the sparklers that were stuck on either side.

“Is that a note?” Hiyori squinted, “I wonder what it says.” She looked at Yato when he cleared his throat.

“Why don’t you use your binoculars?” He offered them. Hiyori didn’t seem to think much of it, taking them and leaning over the railing.

“It says ‘Will You Marry Me?’ Aw I wonder who that’s- for?” Hiyori’s sentence fell off her lips, drifting through the wind as she lowered the binoculars and turned her head. Yukine watched her eyes drop to Yato on his knee, who was gently holding up the box and the ring. When she gasped, eyes growing wide, he nudged the box up higher and cocked his head with a forced smile.

“Will you?” he asked. It took a moment but Hiyori finally moved, closing her mouth and blinking rapidly.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Really?” Yato sprang up with a gigawatt smile, Hiyori laughing at him.

“Yes! Yes!” She professed, bouncing up and down with Yato. Quickly putting the binoculars around her neck, Hiyori quickly grabbed Yato’s face and they joined in a passionate kiss. From his spot, Yukine found himself bouncing on the balls of his feet and clapping with the few people surrounding them. Through their love-sick laughter, and Hiyori’s many kisses, Yato took her hand and raised her to the ring. Before the rock could slip onto her finger, Hiyori jolted, finger freezing.

“What is it?” Questioned Yato, terrified at the way she took her hand back.

“Before you give me the ring, I want to give you my thing,” Hiyori said. Her weak words were slightly drowned out by the fireworks display and chatter of the audience but Yato just nodded with tight lips. Eyes downcast, Hiyori’s fingers slipped under her shirt. Then, she handed the ultrasound to Yato who blinked at once before he gently took it. Yukine watched him stare at it, almost incomprehensibly, for a little longer than necessary. Yato blinked again, turned it around and blinked once more. Adam’s apple bobbing, Yukine watched Yato’s lips say something that was too quiet to hear. Hiyori nodded, a jolting movement, trying to force a smile around her wet eyes. This was it, Yukine thought, they were a little family; a mother and her future husband. Yato was a husband, a father, a man of the house. Yukine’s clapping hands stopped and gripped his shorts.

Yato suddenly got his breath of life back, his head jolted up and he looked to Hiyori with an open jaw. He couldn’t force it close until he tackled her into a hug, holding her head and waist so close, like she was the only thing keeping him standing. Whatever Yato said convinced Hiyori it was time to slip the engagement ring on her finger as they squeezed each other tight. Their laughter sounded again, overshadowed by the fireworks and sounding considerably more breathless than before. Lit up by the dancing colors, Yukine watched them alternate between laughing, talking, kissing, and pointing at the objects in their hands. Just as Yukine’s happiness was starting to be completely overshadowed with loneliness and isolation, he watched both of them point at their gifts then turn and face the blonde.

“Yukine!” They cheerfully called his name, arms open to welcome him into their hug. Heart leaping for joy into his throat, Yukine ran forward without a thought. By the time their arms wrapped around him, holding him tightly against their bodies, Yukine’s wet laughter was bubbling out of his chest.

“Yukine! You double player you!” Yato exulted.

“You did such a good job!” Hiyori complimented with tears, “thank you so much!” The family gave another tight hug before pulling away.

“We really couldn’t have done it without you,” Yato sighed. He kept his arms around their shoulders, holding the ultrasound up against the sky, the three watched the final colors of the fireworks illuminate the tiny bundle of life that would be greeting them soon. As the final boom pounded against their beating hearts, Yato finally gave it back to his fiance.

“I’m glad it all worked out,” Yukine said, mostly to himself.

“Are you sure?” Yato asked him.

“Huh?”

“We just want to make sure that you’re okay with all this,” Hiyori started, “we know this is a lot and we just want to hear your thoughts about all this.” She gestured to everything but when Yukine gave them a blank look, Yato put his hands on Yukine’s head.

“Our family is getting a little bigger, are you happy?” He asked softly. Warmth spread throughout Yukine, building in his heart and fanning the heat behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” Yukine breathed, “I’m happy.” He blinked and let out a hum of a laugh as Yato and Hiyori smiled at each other.

“That’s great because we have something for you too,” Yato grinned.

“For me?” Yukine blinked. What could it be? What more could they possibly give him?

“Yes, a surprise for you too! Mostly from me to you,” Hiyori offered. When she looked at Yato, smile matching his, the three separated and Yato lifted his top shirt to reveal a folded packet. He handed it to Hiyori who handed it to Yukine with a shy smile.

“If you want,” she tacked on. Yukine kept his eyes on her as he unfolded the paperwork, already knowing what it was before he looked it at. It was so familiar, nearly identical to the one Yato gave him so long ago, the one that now sat in a protective folder in Yukine’s bedroom.

“You want to? Adopt me?” Yukine asked. He squeezed the papers tightly against his chest. Unable to say anything more, Hiyori pressed her trembling lips together and gave a short nod, a couple tears falling from her eyes. He was back in her arms just as she opened them, sniffing against her collar bone.

“Is that okay? Will you have me, Yukine?” She tearfully asked as she brushed his bangs out of his eyes.

“Yes,” Yukine cried, “I’d love that. So much.” He had a mom now. Not that woman that gave birth to him, a real mother figure that loved and cared for him and his dad properly. He had parents.

“See?” Yato sniffed, “I told you he would gladly welcome you into the family!” He tried wiping the tears from his cheeks but it hardly made a difference.

“The family?” Yukine repeated, feeling the word on his tongue.

“Of course! Can’t be a family without you, kiddo!” Yato insisted. He pulled them back into a hug, each of the gifts to each other- sealing their love and connection- squishing under the force of their laughter. They came together in a rather unconventional way, and they were nothing Yukine imagined for himself, yet they were everything he could ask for.

His parents.

His family.

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