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palbabor-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Latibule

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, panic attacks & hypochondria, adult language, eventual SMUT

Words: 9790

His usual spot at the cafe is taken, and he’s already decided to keep walking on, but somehow, somehow, he manages to catch your eye.

His feet are slowing, a stuttering breath stagnating in his lungs, all at once hopeful and bewildered, but before he can examine his fluttering emotions, you’re alongside him on the noisy sidewalk, passing him his usual evening drink, a pleased smile on your soft lips.

Suddenly, the world smells like velvety pine and heady bergamot, and he can’t stop staring down at you.

Notes: hi. this is my first real foray into the world of Haikyuu!! & i’m so excited to branch into this fandom! if this is your first time reading my stuff imma warn you, i take things slow, so expect some slow burn.

this will be a multi-chapter fic with eventual NSFW/18+ only content. i will post warnings for each update. i’ll also link other chapters on this page and any other pages that come up, so keep in mind that there will be edits to links as things progress - i wasn’t planning on this being anything more than a one-shot, but this first exploration of Sakusa’s character turned into a monster & i wanna really hone in on that sweet, sweet build up.

big, huge shoutout to @wickedfaerytale & @albinoburrito for their edits and suggestions. y’all are amazing and i love you both so much, this fic wouldn’t be what it is without the two of you.

Latibule /lat-i-bule/ noun a hiding place; a place of safety and comfort

pt. i: an opening

[ pt. ii: four set ] ||

It’s a quiet coffee shop.

He likes that about it. He likes it almost as much as the simple fact that he can tell what day of the week it is by the smell of the disinfectant and bleach that’s being used behind the counter.

There’s a strange comfort to this place’s consistency and Kiyoomi Sakusa likes to linger here, propping his MSBY issued volleyball bag beside his usual table. He’s already placed his coffee order with the cheerful man who guards the cash register, watching as his paper cup is marked with a fresh sharpie and placed on the bartop, beside the elbow of that barista who always attentively turns to wash her hands before making each new order.

He had stumbled upon the shop his senior year of college and he’s haunted it ever since, content to sip on a smooth cortado as he watches over the latest plays from the MSBY games, mapping out his overestimations, his successes, and his flukes in his notebook– carefully lined kanji listing out what worked and what needs some extra practice. The caramel sweet flavor of the ristretto shots always helps to relax him, his broad shoulders lowering, the ache of self-induced tension and overworked muscles easing as his drink cools between his fingers, finally sinking fully into the plush leather seat of his clean chair.

The young woman, he should know your name, but he’s never caught a proper glimpse of your name tag, because you’re always moving, gives him a familiar lifting of smooth lips and places his completed drink on the handoff plane. You know his personal preferences well enough that you’re already moving the caddy of lids and cardboard sleeves forward, so he can select his own from the neatly stacked row. He gives you a cursory nod and his calloused fingertips pull the frothy beverage into his hands, cupping the curved sides and taking a deep drag of air through his masked nose, inhaling the bright smell of fresh coffee.

And…vines…or is it a tangy pine?

There’s something else that’s tickling his senses, and he blinks toward you, dark brows knitting together, a misplaced curl of inky hair brushing against his forehead, trying to make sense of the smell. His chin lifts and his head tilts, eyes watching your polished movements as you move onto the next drink in line. It’s definitely got some floral notes, but it’s not cloyingly sweet, like honeysuckle or gooseberry–no, it’s got some kind of balmy spice to it. It returns when you move closer and he swears he can taste summer when you shift back.

Odd.

When you look up at him again, he’s already stepping away, his running shoes squeaking across the slate tiles, making his way back to his bag and table. The aroma of your perfume is half forgotten when he cracks his laptop open, squirting some hand sanitizer across his chapped palms before he starts to clack his fingertips across the dark keys. He needs to get more lotion; he thinks as the sterile solution cools between his splayed fingers, this weather always dries his skin out.

The next time he comes in he spies you at the back of the shop, jotting something down in a large binder before kneeling behind the counter, returning with a sparkling, grated drain top. The white gleams under the accented lighting and he watches as you thumb at the paint, denoting a splotch of rust that rests under the dip of the metal. You return the cover to the ground and immediately twist to the hand washing sink that rests behind the bar, lathering up some dispensed soap and methodically stroking from the tips of your fingers to your wrists. A steady puff of steam is rising around you as he places his order–

[ a oat milk smoothie, with an extra scoop of protein powder, chia seeds, turmeric, kale, cucumber, dash of dates for sweetener ]

and by the time he’s paid and padding toward his usual spot, you’re finishing up, yanking a few disposable paper towels from the overhead dispenser and gingerly drying your damp hands.

He’s seen you wash your hands plenty of times before, but he finds himself distractedly following your movements this afternoon as he waits for his order and his computer to finish booting up. You catch his obsidian eyes when you turn around and give him a brief smile; a flash of teeth peeking through your lips before you move back to your binder. You jot down a few more notes as you move onto the fridges that sit under the countertops, pulling and prying at the gaskets that line the doors of the whirring chillers, speaking softly to a fellow employee, pointing out the missed stains and chipped flecks of ice that like to hide within the folds of the protective plastic.

You’re not overbearing in your coaching, keeping your tone even and friendly, focusing on what can be done going forward, rather than lingering on the ‘what if’s’ and ‘why wasn’t’ of the situation.

Practical, efficient, thorough with your work, and careful with your craft.

Those descriptors float to the forefront of his mind as he takes his smoothie from the barista that’s standing beside you. He lets his gaze hold against your half leaning form, watching the lead tip of your pencil mark over the stark red checklist that you’re working your way down.

He’s not sure why he’s so focused on you. He’s never thought much about you. You’ve been someone that exists in the background, part of his routine to be sure, but he justifies that your attention to detail is likely the reason why he prefers this shop to the dozens of other coffee houses that litter the main street by the MSBY training facilities and stadium. Your head shifts, and he can tell you can feel his gaze, so he swiftly plucks up his icy cold cup, his nose involuntarily trying to seek out that perfume you’d been wearing the other day.

Strange. His brow furrows, and he hunches into his sports jacket, walking back to his chair and his glowing computer. He can’t smell it today. Maybe you’re too far away, or perhaps you’d forgotten to put it on before coming in.

Pity. He’d liked it.

“Running a little late today, I see,” your voice snaps him out of his stupor, onyx eyes lifting to rest against your open expression.

“Kind of,” he replies blandly, his deep cadence muffled by the pull of his mask.

“Damn, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you be late! Want me to push your drink to the front of the queue? I’ve got the power to do that, you know,” you tease, tilting your head as a mischievous grin settles over your quirked lips. Kiyoomi blinks impassively down at you and shakes his head. How would he even reply to something like that? You were joking, right? You must be. And if you weren’t, the people who are clustered around the handoff plane would certainly realize that he was being given his drink first, clearly ahead of all of theirs, and they’d probably toss him a few disgruntled stares or mouthy jabs, and likely accuse you of playing favorites.

Wait. Favorites?

Does he count as a ‘favorite’ here? He looks away, lips drooping into a pursed line. You’ve always been…nice…but there’s no way he’s a favorite of yours. He’s hardly spoken to you in the year and a half that he’s been coming here. But is that all it takes? Just take up space in the cafe a few times a week and get special treatment?

No. You must be joking.

All the same, your jovial tone and that welcoming smile is a little intriguing.

He shuffles closer to the heat of the espresso machines, easily lifting his head over the lip of the bronze metal, watching you. You’re looking down now, fingers gripping the dark handle of the portafilter, holding it under the buzzing grinder to gather a fine sprinkle of dusky espresso grounds into the waiting basket. Then, you lift a lustery tamp to the heaping mound and press expertly against the delicate remains of the arabica, packing them to an even level before clamping the filter under the display of the machine. When you flick the switch that activates the group head you must sense his stare and lift your eyes to his, eyelashes momentarily fluttering against your cheeks when you spy his unabashed observations of you.

For a second, your hands falter, trapped within the unexpected intensity of his curious gaze, and you pat blindly for the cup that’s sitting to the right of your curled arms, embarrassingly disarmed by his transparent focus. But once your grip wraps around the waiting plastic, it seems to ground you and you let out a huffing chuckle, eyes crinkling up at his half obscured face.

“I’m only kidding about moving your drink up, don’t worry, I won’t get you in trouble. Besides, it’s against our policy. First come, first serve and whatnot,” you assure him, halting the stream of water that’s pouring the carefully timed flow of espresso into the clear shot glass that’s waiting against the gleaming metal of the drip tray.

“You’re busy today,” he notes, jerking his curly head toward the gaggle of college students sprawled across some of the bigger tables, their laughing voices and overly loud conversations easily drowning out the hum of lofi jazz that’s playing from the recessed speakers.

“Ah, yeah, finals are coming up for a lot of us that go to the university. I know my classes are starting to gear up for that last push and sometimes you just need a pick me up and coffee is great for that. We also get a big boost from the smoothies and frappes that we sell in the afternoons, so we get a little packed. Most of our sales happen during the weeks leading up to finals and midterms, uh, anyways, not that you asked for an economic lesson on a small cafe’s profit margins.”

“You’re a student?” he asks, head dipping back, eyes glittering in the lights. Wait. How old are you? Not that he can boast any sort of seniority on that front, he’s only 24 after all, but you just seemed, hmm, more mature? He didn’t picture you as a co-ed. Not that he’s actively picturing you when he’s not here. Well, he is a little recently, but you’ve always felt sort of timeless? Ageless? Is that the right term? You give off an air of confidence. So he’d assumed that you were older than him. Not in a bad way, in fact he’d sort of like it if you were. Why, that is, he’s not willing to look too deeply into, at least, not right now. Maybe later, when he gets back home and can…oh, you’re talking again.

“I’m a graduate student, but not for much longer. I’m finishing up my dissertation this week! Thank God. This semester has been the pits, I’m so ready for a break!” You sound genuinely happy and he can smell that faint aroma of your perfume each time you move.

“Congratulations,” he murmurs, unsure if you’d heard him since you’re stepping away from the machines that he’s posted himself behind. He watches you set up two steaming drinks, topping them with a lazy swirl of silky, housemade, whipped cream, a crosshatch drizzle of caramel, carefully snapping a set of black plastic lids on top, before calling out the handwritten names and handing them off to their respective owners. Then you’re back, hands already unhooking the portafilter, knocking out the used espresso pucks into the trash and bringing him back to that spicy smell of summer that sits on your skin.

“Haha, it’s a little early for a congratulations. Don’t jinx me, will’ya? But seriously, thanks, that’s nice of you to say,” you continue, flowing easily back into this half-hearted conversation he’s accidentally struck up with you. He winces at that thought and dips his hands deeper into his jacket, hunching his shoulders into a habitual slouch that he instinctively imposes upon himself when he’s out in public.

“You want a lid?” you question over the hiss of the machine, and he lifts his head, finding your bright eyes through the misting remains of the cleared steam wands.

“No.” His response is clipped, and he gulps down a sudden burst of hazy anxiousness when someone brushes past him, jostling him closer to the low wall that divides the bartop from the cafe floor. He braces himself against the warming top of the machine, his large palm steadying himself, shoulders caving forward, his dark curls falling over his eyes, obscuring his face further. He clenches his jaw, a scowl blooming over his lips.

His social anxiety isn’t anything new, and it’s likely exacerbated by the bustle of the nearby college students, who seem to be getting louder by the second. The noise is needling under his skin. He starts his carefully ingrained breathing exercises, tugging in a deep stream of air through his flared nostrils.

But the smell is coffee is too overwhelming and suddenly his ritual doesn’t help much.

He can feel blood leaving his fingertips and toes, or as his cousin Komori puts it [ the inescapable dread of some imagined ailment, which is making him think that his body is rushing blood from his extremities to his vital organs, his fingertips cold, hands shaking, when in reality ‘you’re just feeling unsure of yourself, man. It’ll be ok in a minute, promise!’ ]

But in the end, it doesn’t matter what anyone calls it, or how they think he should feel during these heart pounding moments, he just knows that he wants to get out of here, now.

His agitation must have twisted the top half of his expression because the feel of your warm fingertips against his wrist jerks him out of his head, causing him to suck in an unsteady breath as he lurches backwards, pulling away from your offending touch.

“Oh! Sorry! I didn’t think…I just…” you bite your lip, a look of stark worry passing over your usually open features. “Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. Are you…are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” he grunts, teeth clenched, right leg bouncing in place against the tiles. Shit. It’s not like he could have predicted that you’d try to touch him, so you can’t really blame him for his misplaced reaction. Just get him his coffee and he’ll be on his way…

Come on…come on…

“Here you go. Sorry for the wait, Sakusa,” you lift on your tiptoes, the stretch of your legs and arms apparent as you hold his cup out, careful to balance yourself against the lever of the steam wand. He takes the proffered drink and nods his thanks at you, his gaze dark. The gesture might be a little strained, and he knows you likely think he’s some kinda freak at this point, but he’s glad to see your customary smile before he turns, shouldering his way out the door and into the promise of open air.

“Stop being so secretive about this place. It’s not like you can’t search for it online, Omi Omi. I saw you come in with the logo of their shop last week and I wanna try it out. Don’t cha’ gimme that look, I deserve to have good coffee too! And if it’s close by you can’t just keep it to yourself! Think about the rest of us, huh? Besides, I think they’d like to see something other than yer’ prickly face every once in a while.” Golden haired Atsumu Miya, his fellow teammate and setter for the MSBY Black Jackals, has been walking beside him for five blocks, jabbering on about the bland offerings of the big box coffee chains that surround their home gym, and how he hasn’t had a good cup of coffee in days. Tch, he’d said months originally, but that was an obvious lie. After all, Kiyoomi pointed out, slipping his mask on before the two stepped into the strong midday sun, he’d come in with an iced coffee two days ago, proclaiming to the whole team it was the best he’d ever had, bar none.

“It’s a small shop,” Kiyoomi glumly elaborates, his dark hair soaking up the rays of sunlight as they crossed the bustling pedestrian walkway. “I think it’s run by an American. The staff speaks English, besides Japanese. There’s one barista in particular, a young woman, she has–”

“English? Oh, hell yeah! I can practice! This is perfect! They got any specialty drinks? I couldn’t see any from the menu that they had online, but I told ‘Samu I’d send him a picture of the place.”

Hmph, what’s the use of bothering to hold a conversation with this guy, Kiyoomi thinks, obsidian eyes narrowing as his brows furrow over his scrunched face, watching Atsumu chatter on about the vague sampling that he’d seen on their website. He’s not listening, anyway.

The coffee shop bell dings as the two of them step into the space, greeted by a waft of freshly ground coffee and the sharp tang of disinfectant. “Ahhh,” Atsumu says, propping his hands on his trim hips and fixing Kiyoomi with a pointed look, “totally see why you like the place. It smells like they have a freaking bleach, whaddya call those, ah, an air freshener! Yeah, smells like they have an ‘eu de bleach’ wall plug in.”

“It’s clean,” Kiyoomi affirms, his own hands sliding into his pockets, fingers wrapping around his wallet as he steps into the line. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Not at all,” Atsumu grins, resting an arm on Kiyoomi’s shoulder as he glances over the chalkboard menu. “Just can tell that must be why you like this place so much. Bet you huff cleaner as soon as you get home.. Speaking of, I still need to see your new apartment, heard you let Ushijima come by and that’s not fair at all. Kinda– ow! Omi, ya’ friggin ass!”

Kiyoomi jerked his arm upwards as he stepped toward the register and the abrupt displacement sent Atsumu’s hand flying up, managing to perfectly strike himself on his nose as he attempted to counterbalance his sudden shift in momentum.

“HA-ah, ahem, I mean…hello! Nice to see you again, sir!” the barista calls out, poorly concealing his mirth at Atsumu’s fumbling behind a gloved hand. Kiyoomi nods curtly, his order on the tip of his lips, but before he can utter anything Atsumu is beside him again, leaning against the well lit pastry case and peering over his options critically.

“Hmm, ya’ got any of those little madeline cakes? They’re vanilla, kinda look like a shell? Saw em’ on yer’ website.”

The barista gives Atsumu a broad grin and twists to talk with someone who’s below the arched dome of the food case, quietly asking a few questions before looking back at the blonde man. “Yeah, we do! We’re actually just putting them out, my manager is checking for the–”

Atsumu steps impossibly closer to the gleaming glass and pops his head over the dome, peering down at whoever is restocking the sweets. “Oh! Hey there!” he chirps, lowering his chin, his face pulling into an exaggerated, cocky smirk. “Ya’ know what I mean, right? It’s kinda like a cake, but it’s small, like a cookie. It’s French. No, it’s not that. Maybe on the next tray? What? I can’t hear ya’. It’s smaller. I can step around, see if–”

A familiar voice pipes up before Atsumu can move closer and Kiyoomi turns, ears instantly pricking up at the sound of your reply. “I said, I know what a madeline is, sir. I’m rearranging and organizing my cart at the moment and, if you’d like, you can order your drinks first. I’ll have the madeline waiting for you on the other side of the bar.”

“Lemme just see one,” Atsumu grins, resting his hands against the glass. Kiyoomi’s lips curl at the sight, watching Atsumu’s hands leave lingering prints behind. Great, now they’ll need to clean and re-polish the display. Besides, you’d said you had them. Why keep pushing the issue? Ugh. If he wasn’t regretting his decision to show his fellow teammate the shop before, he certainly is now.

“Just wanna make sure we’re on the same page, is all. Ya’ might give me something else by mistake and that’s a waste of time for both of us!” Atsumu’s smile broadens, a shadowed look falling over his angular features.

You hop up from your crouched position, a wrapped package with bright blue lettering that clearly says [ French Vanilla Madeline ] on the side, clutched between your fingers. “Oh no, I get it,” you begin, mimicking Atsumu’s cheshire grin with startling accuracy. “You just want to double check! I mean, the words on the packaging do say: Madeline. So unless you mean something else, something that’s not called ‘A French vanilla madeline, made with real vanilla extract and buttery goodness,’ I think we’ve got you covered.”

Your voice is saccharine sweet, lilting over the words, a well-practiced smile lifting your lips. You’re still clearly mirroring the one Atsumu is giving you. It’s the snappiest your tone has ever been, and the fact that it’s being used against his annoying teammate is priceless. Suddenly, he can’t help the laugh that’s already snickering its way past his mask.

“Oi!” Atsumu cries, pushing himself off the case at last, his teeth gritted at Kiyoomi’s obvious amusement. “I just wanted to check! And you, manager lady, don’t be so mean!”

“Pfft, manager lady? It’s (Y/N). And me? Mean? I was not mean, I told you that we had them! I just needed to FIFO some of the other pastries first,” you defend, a surprised exhale falling from your lips.

“FIFO? What is that? Don’t use that food jargon on me! I get that enough from my brother. He does that crap all the time, like it’s some sorta secret lingo. ‘Don’t do that ‘Tsumu, gotta make sure it’s in date’. ‘Don’t come on the line!’ ‘Gotta wear a hat or a hair net if yer’ gonna be back here!’ ‘Don’t mislabel the rice!’ On and on. What’s with you food people? So uptight. Look, I just wanted to try one. Yer’ reviews said they were good! Here, tell you what, give me two. Don’t laugh! Omi, help! She’s picking on me!”

“Stop it, you’re making a scene. Any other inane questions? Or anything else you’d like to order, because I’m certainly not buying any of this for you,” Kiyoomi replies, sneaking a glance at your bemused expression. You catch his eye and give him a quick wink and he finds that his smile stays with him long after he, and a chastened and satiated Atsumu have left the warmth of the coffee shop.

“Mmm, these are pretty good,” Atsumu mumbles between bites of his madeline. “Ya’ want some?”

He stops by after his evening practice, when the sun has long since fallen past the horizon of the city, but as soon as he rounds the corner he regrets his decision.

The cafe is brimming with people. They’re everywhere; outside, they are clustered on the pavement, sitting on the collection of iron wrought chairs, and gathered in groups. Inside, most are sprawled close to the hand off plane, or draped over the couches and tables. They appear to be animated, with computer screens and voices bright, too bright. His usual spot is taken, and he’s already made up his mind to keep walking on but somehow, somehow, he catches your eye.

Suddenly, the world smells like velvety pine and heady bergamot, and he can’t stop staring down at you.

“Hey! Glad I could catch you. Wanted to tell you good luck on your upcoming game! I think I saw on the news that it’s tomorrow? Right?”

“Yes, we’re playing Azuma Pharmacy. They have a good starting lineup. It’s entirely possible that we’ll lose.”

“Jeez,” you exhale, cocking your head at his serious expression. “Kind of a pessimist, aren’t you?”

“I’m a realist. I’m perfectly prepared to beat them, but things always play out differently on the court, no matter what your personal expectations are.”

You give him another smile. This one comes quickly, and it’s bigger than any of the others, the pull of it lighting up your face. It’s different, and he can tell that the way you’re looking at him has shifted; that you’ve liked this answer. He’s not sure why, it’s the truth. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Good point. Well, win or lose, you’ve got my luck! I better get back inside. Your drink is on me by the way, for the other day…when I touched your hand…well, I’m sure you remember. Anyway, see you, Sakusa!”

He watches you slip past the packed lines of students, already rolling up your sleeves so you can wash your hands. Once you’re behind the espresso machine you’re hidden by the burnished copper and he walks on, shouldering his MSBY bag higher, lifting his coffee to his lips. It’s got a rich flavor, well balanced and expertly poured. Once again, he’s reminded that you’re good at what you do and, despite the balmy heat of early spring, that makes his fingers tingle and his skin break out in gooseflesh.

Later, when he’s falling asleep, he keeps seeing your eyes. Watching as your colored irises come alive in the moonlight, hopeful, shining, and wholly focused on him.

At practice, Atsumu insists on completing his post workout stretching next to him. He’s used to Kiyoomi’s sullen silences and barbed retorts, content to chatter however he pleases, flitting from topic to topic as he eases into his cool down routine.

“I need to go back to that coffee shop. Ya’ been back lately?”

“No,” Kiyoomi lies, brushing a stubborn wave of curls out of his sweaty face.

“Too bad. Maybe after Friday’s practice? That girl really knew her stuff. Made some great coffee, too. What was her name? Ah, that’s right, (Y/N). She’s cute, what’s her story?”

Something twinges against Kiyoomi’s rib cage at the word ‘cute.’ Hmm, that’s not normal. He flips to his left side, facing away from Atsumu’s greedy eyes and leering smiles.

“How long has she worked there?”

“Not sure,” Kiyoomi replies, flattening his palm against the cool flooring of the gym. “At least a year, maybe more.”

“That other barista said she was a manager. She’s not one of the owners, is she?”

“Dunno.”

“Is she a student? Kinda strange to see an American working in Japan, and she’s definitely an American. She’s good with the Japanese, but her accent is off.”

“Your accent is off, so I’m not sure what your point is. I can understand her, and I can’t say the same for you.”

“Jackass!” Atsumu snaps, flopping up from his splayed stretch to butterfly his muscled legs. “It’s called a regional accent, and it’s perfectly normal. Ya’ got one too, city boy!”

“See? No one says things like that. You sound like a cartoon character. Sometimes I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Yer’ full of it!”

“Hmph,” Kiyoomi hums, curling himself onto his haunches and flattening the tops of his hands against the floor. The satisfying crunch of his wrists as his fingers settle makes Atsumu visibly shudder and Kiyoomi flashes him a quick smirk of his own, hoping it will spook his stretching companion enough that he’ll leave him be. He prefers to do his cool down in silence.

“She do anything else? Other than diligently slaving over yer’ coffee, that is?”

Tch. It seems that luck isn’t with him today. “She said she’s a graduate student.”

“Oooh, what’s she studyin’?”

“Not sure.”

“Yer’ about as fun to talk to as a stack of bricks, ya’ know? Bet if I’d asked you what her name was the other day all you’d say was, ‘I use’ta just call her barista: first name: cute, last name: girl.”

Kiyoomi doesn’t reply. Something about these questions is bothering him. He doesn’t like that he can’t answer them properly– it’s frustrating, really. All he can honestly tell Atsumu is that you’re neat and efficient, that you have a smile that he can’t quite shake out of his head, a perfume that he wishes he could place, and that, to date, you’ve given him one free coffee. The fact that he knows that you’re a graduate student is sheer luck, information that you’d happened to share with him, not that he’d asked you about. He uncoils his hands and flips them over, letting his eyes rest against his reddened palms. Oh, and you’d touched his wrist once and the sheer metaphysical weight of that contact had nearly sent him stumbling backwards.

It’s stupid; he’s stupid.

It’s not hard to talk with people. It’s just…he knows he’s not good at it. Besides, when would he practice? He’s surrounded by extroverts; extreme extroverts. Extroverts who defy all sense and who usually can’t be silenced unless they’re tucked into a deep sleep, and even then it’s doubtful. Both Hinata and Bokuto have demonstrated that they can, and will, talk in their sleep. Still, it’s frustrating to find himself boxed into a corner, completely at a loss and unaware of the most cursory, mundane, simple, facts about you. For almost two years, he’s seen you at least twice a week, shouldn’t he know more? Why doesn’t he know more?

“Why not give her a ticket to a game?”

Atsumu’s question makes him lift his head, abandoning his musings as he lets the weight of that suggestion sink in. The setter is crinkling his eyes at him now, that all knowing smirk back on his lips, umber eyes hooded, mischievous. “The front office can do that, ya’ know? We’ve got extras. They keep em’ for that purpose. Just say she’s a special guest, or a potential sponsor. They ain’t gonna question you.”

Kiyoomi looks away, crossing his legs and leaning to his right side, feigning disinterest as Atsumu tells him who he can speak with, where he can see the upcoming calendar, and what seats might be open. It’s a good idea, a great idea, and he can’t help but loathe that Atsumu thought of it first.

The ticket is good for a first row balcony seat.

It’s situated in the best spot. He’d picked it out himself, carefully looking over the colored diagram of the stadium and belaboring the proximity of the sight-lines, wanting to let you have a bird’s eye view of the court. Where would he like to sit, if he could watch a game? What works? What doesn’t? Too high and you can’t catch the movement of the ball. Too low and you can’t see the players. Too far to the right or left and you can’t see the breadth of the court. It’s tricky, and he’s cautious with his selection. He can’t help it.

Kiyoomi only considers you not even liking the sport when he’s placing his order, watching as you carefully tuck his empty cup down on the polished steel of the bar. Shit.

The cafe is quiet. The students are gone, and when the register barista goes to the backroom it’s only him and you in the well lit space. The click of the burr grinder almost makes him jump, and he compromises with his nerves by shifting toward his usual table, resting his bag in the chair and taking in a deep breath.

The gentle press of the tamp is audible over the low beats of the music and he hears you knock the side of the portafilter, no doubt leveling off the crushed arabica before you hook the device under the grouphead. Seconds later he sees you flip the switch for his shots, already grooming his heated, foaming, oat milk in the short pitcher, popping the liquid free of any errant bubbles. You’re gentle with this part, and he’s always loved to watch you pour his cortado, liking the raise of your arm and the flick of your wrist as you let the creamy milk flow into the paper cup, swirling a rosetta design through the ochre of the waiting espresso.

Usually, this well-oiled process of yours calms him, but today he feels fidgety and his head is buzzing. The sooner you finish the drink, the sooner he’ll have to talk to you. Shit, shit. When you move the dark lids forward, his hand feels like it’s heating around the slick paper of the ticket, making it clammy and tacky. He bites his lip and removes his hand from his jacket, wiping his palm against his dark jeans.

You’re already looking up at him, nodding toward the fragrant cup that’s waiting at the edge of the handoff plane. Automatically, he lurches forward, completely in-sync with his familiar routine. The question [ would you like a ticket to one of my games? ] is resting on the tip of his tongue and his fingers are hovering beside his cup. He can see that they’re shaking and that sight doesn’t ease him. Then you ask him something and he feels everything skitter to a halt. Why is this happening? It’s just a ticket, it’s just a game.

Wait. You asked him something?

He does his best to ignore the humming of anxious tension that’s filtering down his fingertips and lifts his bowed head. “What?” he mumbles, lips unsticking at last.

“Just asked how your game went the other day. I tried to record it but my stupid cable box isn’t working. I need to try and see you guys, I know I’ve probably said that before, but it’s pretty pathetic of me to not catch one game when the stadium is only two miles away. Plus, I know y’all are a great team! Heard you made the playoffs last year, that’s so awesome!”

It’s a perfect segway.

But he feels like he’s rooted to the spot, like his tongue is trapped against the roof of his mouth, and his hands are too heavy to move, content to shake beside his cooling drink as he whittles his time away, too filled with the what if’s to do anything about the here and now. He’s going down a mental checklist, mulling over each possibility, cautiously tampering with that heady rush of excitement that’s threatening to bubble out of his masked lips. Shit.

He’s gotta check his vitamin intake, maybe he’s low on omega 3s? The team has a general practitioner on standby. He really should call him after this, maybe run by his office before the next practice.

Something’s off with him.

Wait, that worked.

That shift in his whirring thoughts broke him out of that suspended state and then, before he completely fucks this up, the ticket is down against the counter and he’s muttering something about unlimited uses, that if you can’t make it now, then you can always switch the date, or add someone on, if you have a [ boy ] friend you want to take; the next game works best with the seat that’s listed, he’s checked. He knows it’s open. Again, zero pressure and no worries if you can’t make it. See you around.

You might have responded, you might have smiled, fuck, you might have laughed at him. He’s not sure.

All he knows is that as soon as he is out of the shop he’s calling the team’s gp and confirming an appointment for tomorrow morning. It’s not natural for his heart to stutter and thump like that. It could be an arrhythmia.

It could be any number of things.

He hasn’t felt this nervous about a game in years. Sure, it’s a good team, and they have four players that are of his generation, most of them powerful outside hitters that will probably give the Jackals a good run for their money, but they’re not insurmountable. They can beat VC Kanagawa; they’ll have to if they want to advance further in the lineup for the playoffs.

It’s just…

He keeps looking for that seat. Your seat. He’d gotten to the stadium early; opting to forgo the first team meeting, saying he needed to practice his wall drills, work on his spin, but that’s not the real reason. The real reason is something that he doesn’t want to acknowledge. At least, not before a game. He steadies himself, reiterating that it’s not practical or helpful for him to worry about things like that.

Nevertheless, he’s pinned the seat in his mind. He studied it as the lights shuddered on, the maintenance staff flashing him bewildered looks as he stepped into the empty brightness of the court. He’d found it again during the pre-game warmup, onyx eyes committing the location to memory, searching for the little details that he could watch for if he wanted to find it again, later, when the arena was packed with thousands of eyes and waving signs.

As they open the main doors and the seats fill up, he’s still looking at the seat.

“Whatcha looking at?” Hinata asks, his burst of orange hair already slicked with sweat, vivid eyes sharp.

“Nothing.”

The results of Kiyoomi’s physical had shown no outliers, no cause for worry or concern. Everything was fine. He should just get a little extra potassium in, maybe eat a few more bananas in the morning, or after his practices. He’d been a little miffed when he opened the manilla folder, eyes hunting for abnormalities, for a reason, an explanation. If nothing is wrong, then why does he feel like he’s tingling with adrenaline all the time? It makes him light-headed, sluggish, and that’s detrimental to his playability, to his value to his team.

He looks away from Hinata and paces past Atsumu’s arched eyebrow, ignoring the implications of that wicked grin that’s resting on the setter’s quirked lips. It’s fine; he’s fine. His eyes look up to the balcony again. He really shouldn’t be doing that, he reminds himself. It’s a distraction, and he doesn’t–

Oh. There you are.

He can’t make out details, not from this distance, and he suddenly feels self-conscious about his face. There’s no mask. He doesn’t wear it when he plays, and this will be the first time you’ve seen him without it. Suddenly, he wishes he hadn’t cared so much about the visibility of the court. Why did he plant you so far away? If he can’t see you, then there’s no way you’ll be able to tell which one he is either…oh…wait…his name is on the back of his jersey and they’ll announce his number. Nevermind.

The referee calls for the teams to line up and he diligently follows his teammates, standing in his usual spot, ignoring the dull thump of his heart as it beats a ragged tattoo under his ribs.

They won.

They won, and he’d racked up a whopping 23 points for himself, a personal milestone. It’ll be something that will go down on his athletic record, that the local and national news reports will chatter about, that he can feel proud of. He’s glad; you always show him your best, so it’s only fair he does the same for you too.

He’d peeked up at your seat during each time out, each break, every time the momentum shifted, and before he hit every serve. You looked like you had your feet propped up, resting against the metal barrier of the balcony, and he could see that your arms were wrapped around your knees. You were paying attention, and that knowledge made his lungs swell and his pulse quicken.

Now, after he’s finished toweling some of the clinging sweat from his brow and the matted droop of his obsidian curls, he twists back, facing your seat, but you’re not there. An empty curve of plastic greets him and his heavy brows furrow, his fingers dropping the towel onto the bench as they curl up into his palms.

Did you leave? It would make sense, he supposes. The game is over. He just thought you might come down. Might want to talk. Not that he’d have much to say. He never does. Stupid; what would he talk with you about? See the game? Yeah, duh.

The distant voice of MSBY’s public relations manager is calling for him. He’ll worry about it [ you ] later, he thinks, he’s still got a job to do.

During his interview he can hear Atsumu’s voice. It’s annoying. While the setter doesn’t attempt to tone himself down, he rarely talks that loudly. Kiyoomi glances over at his straight back, watching as his hand cups against the back of his golden head, an infectious laugh bursting from his turned lips. Strange. It’s not like him to chat with someone for that long, not when he’s got his own post-game interviews to conduct. He usually–

Ah, it’s you.

Suddenly, questions like: [ how does it feel to be considered for the 2025 Japanese Olympic team? ] don’t matter. His head is half cocked now, dark eyes following the two of you, his comments to the national reporter falling into clipped monosyllables. This is unprofessional; he should focus on the matter at hand, it’s not like him to be distracted.

He’s been thinking about that a lot lately. That so many things are suddenly not like him.

When you push playfully at Atsumu’s shoulder, he lapses into a stormy silence, nails biting into his clenched palms, pressing half moons into his calloused skin. After answering one more question: [ something about his future plans - how’s he supposed to know? That depends on trades, on opportunities. And right now he’s not in the correct frame of mind to answer honestly, not when he can see that you’re right there ] he bows to the smiling face of the reporter, formally concluding his participation in the interview. He knows it’s abrupt; he knows he’ll likely get an earful from the MSBY PR director, from his coach, and from himself, when the full weight of his uncharacteristic rashness hits him, but right now he doesn’t care.

His feet feel like lead and the steps that he’s taking shudder against the gym’s polished flooring. He’s usually smoother than this, more collected, but can’t will himself to stop lurching forward. He tucks his hands into the darkness of his team jacket, coiling his numb fingers into tight balls, and hunches his shoulders. He likely looks like thunder and this suspicion is confirmed when a ball boy scuttles out of his path, eyes wide, but Kiyoomi doesn’t care.

Atsumu hasn’t noticed his approach, but you do, and that shy wave and familiar smile makes his breath catch in his throat. Damn it. What’s going on with him?

Atsumu notices your wandering attention and turns, following your gaze. Once he spots Kiyoomi, he gives him a cheeky smirk, dipping his chin, lazily fixing his amber eyes on Kiyoomi’s arched figure. “Look who caaame!” he calls, lacing his tone with poorly concealed glee. “She said you gave her a ticket. What a great, absolutely original, idea! And you had your record breaking scoring streak today too! Hey! Maybe she’s good luck! Watch out (Y/N), pretty soon we’ll be hooking you up with a personal mascot job if ya’ can light such a fire under our stoic hitter’s ass. Must be something special in that coffee yer’ serving him.”

Kiyoomi narrows his eyes at Atsumu’s blatant needling and the setter chuckles, flipping his focus back to you, sensing the rising agitation that is rolling off of Kiyoomi in waves now. “Well, sure was good to see ya’ again! Talk to me next time, huh? I’ll get you a boxed seat. It’s much better than those nosebleeds in the balconies.”

You shake your head, a smile pulling at your lips, and make a show of rolling your eyes. “Flattery doesn’t suit you, you know? And what boxed seats? Feels like I’d see them if you had them,” you tease, earning yourself a last laugh and Atsumu’s back, a friendly hand waving a last goodbye as he finally strides toward the waiting cameras. Kiyoomi watches him go, his shoulders tense, a feeling of unease settling in his gut. Is Atsumu doing this on purpose?

He almost snaps a retort at his retreating figure, but the sound of your voice immediately snatches his attention toward you. His dark gaze meets yours and the look in your eyes makes his palms feel itchy and his feet scuff mindlessly against the floor.

“This is gonna sound so dumb, but it’s been on my mind since I got here…”

Kiyoomi’s fingers twist in his pockets, coiling over each digit, and his pulse feels like it’s speeding up again. “What?”

“It’s just…well, you look so much younger without the mask,” you let out a small laugh and duck your head, teeth pulling at your lower lip as you face away from his widening eyes.

“Is that bad?”

“No! You look good! Uh, I mean, not that you didn’t…I just wasn’t sure…not that I’d thought about it…a lot…uh, I…yeah, I’m…No, it’s not bad!” You press your hands against your mouth, steepling your fingers under your nose and fix him with a sheepish grin. “Anyway, I know you’ve got things to do, but Miya was right about one thing, you had a great game. I had a lot of fun and it was so nice of you to get me that ticket, and well…”

You pause, lowering your hands to yank your purse forward, fingers digging into the leather before you right yourself once more, returning with a small, zipped bag, and a plastic card that’s balancing atop the metal teeth. “It’s a…well…I sorta tried to think of some things that you might like. To say thanks! It’s nothing fancy. A nail filing kit, because I read that volleyball guys like to keep their hands in tiptop shape, one of those portable ball pumps and some masks.

The masks are from a great company, back home, er, in the states. Well, at least I like them, they’re super durable. And the card, uh, ha, um, the card is to the cafe. I know it’s not super original, but I didn’t know if you liked any other places. And I didn’t wanna assume or — Haha, oh God, I am talking your ear off. Just…here! Take this from me so I can get my foot outta my mouth, okay?”

You press the bag forward and before he can tell you he doesn’t accept gifts from fans, his hands are already out of the safety of his pockets, firmly wrapping around your offering. “Thank you,” he bows. He wants to say more, but he’s not sure how.

He didn’t mean to come by the cafe.

He thought he’d go for a quick run before practice, maybe loop the block, or jog toward the university. None of these things are close to the cafe, but apparently his feet had other ideas. The shop bell rings when he steps inside, wiping some hand sanitizer against his heated palms, onyx eyes alert, already searching for you.

A male barista [ is it Kane? ] greets him and before he can stop himself, he’s asking if you’re there. “Oh, (Y/N)? Nah, she’s off today. But I can make your cortado, you get almond milk, right?”

“Oat,” Kiyoomi replies, voice muffled by his mask. Damn. Why did he come here? He didn’t mean to and now it’s looking like it was a wasted trip. A useless instinct. He’d wanted to thank you properly for your gift, which had been on his mind a lot the past few days. Perhaps that’s why he felt so compelled to jog the extra mile, why he can’t seem to keep away, why he keeps looking for you as he waits, even though he knows you’re not here.

Maybe he can text you his thanks. That would make all of this easier. Oh, wait, does he even have your number? He pulls his phone out of his pocket and examines his contact list, searching for you. No, nothing under your name. Maybe he put it under something else? [ barista? cafe? ] Again, there’s nothing. Damn. Why didn’t he ask at the game? Or when he gave you the ticket?

When he picks up his drink and paces back into the sunshine, he’s still kicking himself that he hasn’t asked for your number yet. It would have made things so much simpler, he reasons, sipping at his coffee; now he’ll have to come back.

But days pass, and he hasn’t returned.

There’s just too much going on. Too many team meetings and late practices. Too much preparation. The pace of his schedule has never bothered him before, but now he keeps hoping for some kind of reprieve.

The other morning Atsumu strode into a meeting with a cup from your cafe, proudly flaunting the familiar label. It made Kiyoomi’s blood boil [ did he see you? talk with you? Did he get to see that addictively pleasing smile of yours? ] and later that afternoon he experienced his first scolding.

“What’s going on, Omi? Five missed digs? This isn’t like you. You look like your head is in the clouds. Come on, get it together. Big game in five days.”

“Sorry, won’t happen again.” It’s all he can say.

When he’s heading toward the team showers, he catches sight of Atsumu’s knowing leer and he grits his teeth, ignoring the huffed snicker and scoffing head shake that the setter sends his way.

Finally, two days later, he’s got some free time. There are other errands he needs to run, things he should do, but the only thing he can think about is you.

He’s walking up from a side street, one he rarely takes, when, at long last, he catches sight of you. You must be on a break. You’re sitting at a bench, facing a small, but well laid flower bed, flipping the pages of your open book languidly as you read under the cool shade of a gnarled tree.

He’s glad he’s wearing the mask that you gifted him.

You’d said that they were durable, and their quality had genuinely impressed him. When he got home, after the game, he slipped them out of their individual plastic cases, fingering the thick, well made materials before washing one. He’d left the others in their containers. He’ll use them, eventually, but not right now. He wants to savor them. He wants them to last.

Kiyoomi is almost to your side when you look up and he bites against his lower lip as soon as you give him that friendly smile of yours, already closing your book and standing, waiting for him to step closer. He comes to a stop in front of you, peering down at you through his dark lashes.

You always smell so nice, he thinks, unconsciously shifting closer, seeking more. You must have showered before coming into your shift because the crisp scent of peppermint and gentle lavender makes his nostrils flare hungrily under his mask.

“Hey there!” you begin, tucking your book into your arms. “Long time no see. How have you been?”

“Fine. I have practice later. I came by the other day. I…” he lapses into frustrated silence, dark brows falling, letting his hands grip at the material of his jacket. Why is this so hard? You, all the others on his team, Motoya [ hell, even the notoriously impassive Wakatoshi has come out of his shell over the years ] can slip into a conversation. Damn it, how can everyone else make this look so easy?

“Saw you’re playing the Adlers soon. They’re the team the Jackals have a sorta rivalry with, right?”

He blinks down at you and lets out a shallow exhale. There you go again. You’re giving him a life raft, a conversation he can fall into, something he enjoys talking about. He remembers his stilted conversation with Atsumu, the one where he did not know about any of the basic things, the obvious things, the things that made you, you. It’s nice that you’re looking out for him, that you’re helping him along, but he doesn’t want to talk about volleyball, not right now.

“We do. How did your finals go? You said you had a dissertation?”

“Oh!” you blurt, your eyes widening, but you’re clearly pleased, even a little excited that he’s asked. “You remembered! Finished it up last week. Now I just need to knock out my revisions and I’ll either go back to committee, or they’ll approve it! I’m hoping they approve it. I’m sick of looking at it, haha.” Your fingers tap against your book and you duck your head, a quick smile passing over your smooth lips. “Uh, did you want to come in for a coffee? Not trying to hold you up, if you’ve got practice to go to.”

“I was the one who came over.” He sounds a little harsh, he thinks, nose wrinkling under his mask. He’s never worried about being blunt, but that doesn’t work here. He doesn’t want to be, not with you. “I mean, I wanted…wanted to say thanks, for the masks and the other things. I like them.” He points to his covered face and you let out a chuckle, gleaming eyes crinkling as you look up at him. Damn, you’re pretty. How has he not noticed that before? He wants to see you laugh again, he’s just not sure how to go about it. Does he even know any jokes? Shit.

“Awe, I’m glad you like them! Speaking of, Atsumu came by a few days ago, I guess you must have worn one around him because he was trying to sniff out if I’d given them to you. He’s a funny guy, but I cannot get a good read on him. It’s almost like he’s doing stuff on purpose, but he’s never blatantly obvious about it. The way he was talking, I was kinda worried he was trying to play a prank on you. Does he like to get under your skin or something? He’s–”

Kiyoomi’s not thinking when he leans down. He’s been doing that a lot lately, not thinking. It makes his skin prickle. Or is that the smell of peppermint on your clean neck, the fragrant lavender in your hair? The kiss is soft; more of a press of his lips than a real caress. But it’s nice, and he actually likes being this close to you, but something feels off and, ah, damn it.

His dark brows knit together, furrowing his forehead, when he realizes what he’s done. He didn’t take off his mask. How stupid. But that shaky gasp of air that you let out when he pulls away, and the following upward lift of your body, your lips chasing his, clearly wanting him to come back, oh that’s so worth it, mask or not.

Your eyes are the first thing he sees when he looks back down, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so perfect. They’re bright, vibrant, and rich with an excitement that makes his toes curl.

The smell of lavender and peppermint, of you, is almost overwhelming, and yet somehow it’s all together, not enough. He doesn’t say anything and neither do you.

What is there to say?

That one, half-formed, touch said it all. It expressed every frustration that he’s felt over the last few weeks, every faded memory of your voice, of your playful smiles, of those hesitant conversations you’ve helped him through. It’s all there, sitting quietly between the two of you, shimmering in the sunlight as you take a step closer and his hands finally fall out of his pockets, waiting, hoping for yours.

“(Y/N)! Break’s over! Coffee’s not gonna brew itself!”

The distant voice of your coworker shatters the euphoria and you tense, pulling away, your head turning toward the barked command as you call out your reply. Kiyoomi huffs out an impatient breath. He wanted to try that again. Do it right this time. How pathetic is he? Kissing you through a mask? But his annoyance dies when you face him again, slipping your hand tentatively into his.

His digits fall limply around yours and he can’t help but marvel at the softness of you. One of his thumbs lifts and he traces the skin along your knuckles, unsure if he’s even breathing anymore. “Come on,” you say, looking down at his touch before lacing your fingers through his, showing him how to hold you. “I’ll make your coffee.”

You’re walking forward and he has the inane urge to snatch you back, wanting to see how the rest of you feels, wanting to know how you’ll fit into his arms, but he distracts himself by following you. There’s a budding warmth that’s spreading from his palm, where your hand rests inside his, to his chest. It feels like a low burning fire is coursing along his veins and his heartbeat thuds out of rhythm, but for once he doesn’t care.

In fact, he thinks he likes it.

He sits in the cafe for too long, his coffee cold, the cup almost empty. But before he leaves [ already so, so late for practice ] he gets your number.

He taps the unfamiliar digits carefully into his device and you watch from the counter, your chin propped in your hand, a gentle smile kissing against your palm. Then he stands, pausing beside you and you run your index finger down his arm, lingering your touch beside his wrist, making him shiver in the warm sunlight, a pleased grin hidden behind his mask.

notes: this man has what, 10 pages of interaction? idk why and idk how, but he is stuck in my brain - like, seriously send help, i think i’m in love.

262 notes · View notes

h2bakugou · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! Could I please get a soft shiggy x fem!reader? Basically the reader is like god dammit why aren’t u taking care of urself? And basically gives him a lil homemade spa day! I think it’d be really cute! It can be fluff or smut, whatever you prefer!

a/n: hii!! of course!! i kept this kinda fluffy, posting a day later but happy birthday shiggy baby

summary: the constant state that shigaraki stays in while running the league is certainly an interesting one, but you can’t bear watching him not take care of himself. so you arrange a day to do just that

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, mentions of not eating, mentions of anxiety, a few mentions of nudity but nothing sexual

word count: 2.2k (okay pop awf-)

;cut for length;

»»————-　★　————-««

The prominent dark circles under Shigaraki’s eyes were a clear indication that he had been up all night again. Even while he sat in the bed beside you, playing a game on some handheld console, you could tell he hadn’t been to sleep at all in the past twenty-four hours.

Trying to ignore the soft sounds coming from his game, you cuddled up to him anyway, slinging an arm under on of his, resting your hand back up on his shoulder, your grasp resembling that of a backpack strap.

“What are you playing?” You mumbled quietly, your eyes just barely peeking over his arm, the screen illuminated a little too brightly for your comfort.

“Some weird RPG I downloaded from a forum. It’s stupid.” Shigaraki quickly turned the game console off and set it on the night stand, turning over to look at you.

“You look tired, did you not sleep good last night?” You ask, reaching a delicate hand up to caress his cheek, thumb carefully grazing over the top his cheek. You pull him in for a delicate kiss, just barely touching his lips.

You were still half-asleep, but you could tell Shigaraki wasn’t taking care of himself again. He had these spells, usually around the time when the League wasn’t doing much, plotting or just moving around, he wouldn’t sleep, he’d barely eat-his excuse would be he forgot, but you knew he was anxious.

Anxious for what was to come. He was a good leader, and he was strong, probably stronger than you were, but that didn’t matter. You were worried about him.

You couldn’t stand seeing those dark circles under his eyes, of hearing his tummy rumble when you lay next to him. It seemed the scratching on his neck would worsen as well, raw skin peeking through under the already cracked and dry skin he itched at for what felt like hours.

“Didn’t sleep.” He replied quietly. He knew you were about to scold him. He could read it all over your face as you pouted, pulling him into you.

“You could’ve woke me up, and we could’ve done something to help you fall asleep.” You sit up, ushering him to lay in your lap. As he does so, you take one look at his hair and inwardly cringe.

It’s a knotted mess, and no matter how much you wanted to run your fingers through it, you probably wouldn’t even get halfway before having to brush your fingers out of there with a hair brush. Or worse, cut them out.

“Didn’t wanna bug you.” Shigaraki seemed cold. His responses were dry. You heaved a sigh and pushed him up by his shoulders. Slinking out of the bed, you walked around to his side and tugged him out, pulling him over to the bathroom by his arms.

“How many times have I told you I don’t mind.” You sigh as you set him down on he toilet lid, watching as he just nods, hanging his head as you turn on the water for the bath.

Allowing it to warm up, you turn back to him and tug at his shirt.

“Arms up.” You speak softly, proceeding to take his shirt off as he lifts his arms up.

“When did you get this!?” You’re visibly and audibly worried as you spot a rather large bruise on his side. It looked like it hurt.

“Last fight.” Shigaraki sighed and glanced up at you.

“What are you doing?” His lips were fitted in a thin line, his eyelids were barely open, probably to heavy to even try.

“I’m going to help you relax. Look, your shoulders are so tense you can’t even relax them!” You went to touch his shoulders and just as you had stated, the muscles felt locked and telling by the hissing from Shigaraki, they were painful to move and touch.

“Alright alright! Just, am I taking a bath?” He questioned. You nodded and stepped aside, allowing him to undress the rest of the way before getting into the tub, his lips parting as he sat down, the warm water already making him feel slightly better.

Taking a cup you’d left in the bathroom from dumping out some soda, you rinsed it quickly under the sink, making sure it wasn’t sticky, and then brought it over to the tub where you scooped up some water and poured it over Shigaraki’s hair.

Once it was wet enough to lather some shampoo in, you allowed him to lean back as you worked your fingers through his locks. Unknotting his hair and washing it was a bit difficult, but taking your time, you made sure every strand of his hair was clean.

Your fingers worked their way back up to his scalp where you massaged for quite a few minutes, both to try and remove any built up dirt and dandruff and to give him a bit of a massage.

Shigaraki was almost purring in satisfaction as you finally dragged your hands away, reaching for the cup to rinse his hair. It didn’t take you long to rinse out all the suds before getting started on the conditioner.

“Thank you.” Shigaraki mumbled, holding his knees to his chest, his head dipped back so you could wash his hair easier.

“Of course. I know you haven’t been taking care of yourself again, I know you don’t mean too, but I can’t help but notice.” You sigh, running the pleasant-smelling conditioner through his white locks.

“You have these weird spells. I understand though, how you feel. It’s not easy being the leader, I can’t imagine the stress you feel, but you’ve got to take care of yourself. It’s important. You gotta be strong for the league, and for yourself.” You know Shigaraki, a little more than everyone else in the league does.

You’re dating him for peat’s sake. But Shigaraki became standoffish, grumpy, and even distant during these spells. There was nothing to do. Besides maybe make up a plan for a little something just to do something.

He was anxious about the little things. About how the league looked to the public. About how long they had stayed in one location. About how long it had been since their last big attack.

He needed to get back to league business, but there needed to be time, a good plan, an opening, the forces to attack, all of it needed to be planned with pinpoint accuracy, and those things took time.

“I love you, a whole bunch.” You lean over and kiss his cheek, smiling as his cheeks burn red.

You lather up a loofa with some nice scented soap and begin to wash his back and shoulders, down his arms and a little on his neck.

You’re extra careful around his neck and try not to get any of the scented soap on his raw skin. You know it hurts, and it’ll sting when water washes over it, but you’ll have to take extra good care of that spot later.

When you’re finished washing him, you drain the water and let him stand up, switching the bath to a shower and you begin to rinse him off.

It feels so domestic, these few minutes. The way you laugh and giggle when you tell him to lift his arms and spin and then call yourself some sort of car wash as you spray the warm water over him.

“You’re making a mess.” Shigaraki states at the various puddles of water on the bathroom floor. You sigh and finally help him rinse his conditioned hair out, asking him to hold the shower head for you while you run your fingers through his hair and ring out all the suds.

After the shower, you let him stand and air dry why you go and retrieve a towel. Upon walking in, he’s turned away from you, so you decide to pinch his butt, playfully of course.

Shigaraki just turns and glares at you, taking the towel from you as you giggle.

“I touched the butt.” You laugh as you leave the bathroom, letting him dry off. While he does so, you search around for a pair of boxers to hand him as well as a comfy t-shirt to put on after you give him a nice back massage.

Handing him his underwear, you look away and decide to make the bed quickly while he gets partially dressed.

“Where’s my shirt?” He questions. You turn and for a few seconds, you’re flustered. There’s Shigaraki, hair dripping wet and running down his toned chest, right down to the waist band of his black boxers. The towel you’d given him is lazily tossed over one shoulder, and he looks like some sort of actor out of a terrible romance movie.

Too entranced by his looks, you quickly shake your head, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. You pat the freshly made bed.

“Back massage.” You blurt out kneeling on the bed, waiting for him to lay down.

“Flustered?” Shigaraki stands beside the bed, a finger under your chin as you look up at him. You lean up and kiss his lips, smiling as you pull away.

“Well when you look that good can you blame me?” You tease, waiting as he lays down on the bed like you had motioned for.

“I guess not.” He replies.

Laying his head over his folded arms, his chest is against the bed. You move to sit over his butt as you look at his back. Still a little damp from the shower, you take the towel that had been tossed on the bed and dry it off, running it through his wet locks a bit.

Tossing it down onto the floor, too unbothered about it leaving a wet-mark on the carpet, You squirt some lotion into your hand and delicately begin to rub it into his back, carefully drawing your fingers across his skin, massaging it up over his shoulders.

Your fingers work magic as you relieve his tension, working at his shoulders carefully and strategically, undoing any knots that had formed.

Shigaraki’s eyes are closed, and small hums of satisfaction spill from his mouth as you do so.

You spend minutes massaging his back, quietly and gently working lotion into his skin. And when you’re finished, you ask him to sit up and face you. He puts on a shirt and you ask for his hands.

He’s skeptical but allows you to see one. You carefully apply some lotion to your hand and begin to massage it in, working down each one of his fingers before gently massaging his palm.

He stares at you in admiration as you seem un-phased by his hands, or the fact that he could kill you with them if you messed up. You don’t even look anxious, or worried about them.

And when you switch to his other hand, you continue, even when his fingers twitch. You just smile and kiss the back of his hand when you’re done, complementing the way he looks.

Interlocking your hands with his, Shigaraki’s eyes go wide.

“Careful!” He speaks up, falling into you as you tug him back.

He’s laying on top of you as you lay under him, smiling up at him.

“I can handle myself, don’t worry. Now come here.” You wrap your arms and legs around him, clinging to him like a sloth. You can’t help but giggle as he turns over, allowing you to be on top of him.

“You’re so stupid.” Shigaraki sighs, closing his eyes. You brush your nose against his, kissing the tip of his nose before burying your head into the crook of his neck.

“But you love me. And I love you too.” You kiss his neck gently, closing your eyes as you rest against him.

“I do love you.” Shigaraki’s arms are wrapped over your back, holding you down on top of him. He smiles and finally feels how tired he was.

“I’m gonna go make breakfast soon, so take a little nap okay?” You sit up and kiss his forehead.

“I can’t fall asleep without you.” Shigaraki mumbles, holding you tighter.

“This is a bad idea. I’m gonna fall back asleep too.” You mumble reaching for a blanket. Shigaraki helps cover the both of you.

“Guess we’re napping then.” Shigaraki kisses your cheek, nuzzling his head against yours.

“Guess so.” Your words are quiet as you slip back to sleep, peacefully dozing off as Shigaraki does the same.

It’s a bit of a long nap, a couple hours pass. And when you wake up, you make some food for the both of you, eating a big meal while watching a show on Netflix. The day is all about Shigaraki and so cuddles are a must when you’re finished eating.

You switch from basic cuddling to sitting in his lap, to even under his baggy t-shirt, your head poking through the head-hole, your back against his chest.

It’s a long day, but it’s spent with Shigaraki, taking care of him and showing him how much you truly adore him. And he loves it.

And at the end of the night, when you go to bed for real after gaming for an unreal amount of time, he holds you close and kisses the top of your head. You’re tuckered out completely sound asleep as he begins to doze off himself.

He loves you. He really does.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

#shigaraki #tomura #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomue #shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #tenko shimura x reader #tenko #shimura

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twdeadfanfic · 4 years ago

Text

Vows Pt.4

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Series Summary:

The last battle with Negan doesn’t go as it should, with Negan coming on top, and so reader, Daryl’s girlfriend, offers herself as a wife to Negan if he doesn’t kill Daryl or anyone else. Negan accepts, he won’t kill anyone but will take reader as a wife, and he’ll take Daryl and some of the others to the Sanctuary as prisoners, promising not to hurt anyone if reader is one of his wives and the communities work for him.

This has both flashbacks to reader and Daryl’s story since meeting to now, and the present with reader living at the Sanctuary as a wife, trying to keep Daryl and their people safe, and she and the other wives dealing with Negan, plotting… (This is not a Negan x reader fic!)

This chapter has Negan in it but also a bit flashback to when Daryl and reader met.

The next day was strange, to be there in a room at the Sanctuary, but you had to remind yourself that it could be worse. All you did was stay in the room with the other women, getting to know them more, sharing stories about your life, reminding you of your first days back at the quarry, when you met new people, so long ago. It still felt surreal, to be in a luxurious room, with food, books, magazines, booze, even DVDs, and in the apocalypse.

Yes, you knew it could be worse…you could be in a cell, like Daryl and the others, you could be starved and tortured as people had been at the Sanctuary…but yet, you hated that feeling of being trapped, and the feeling of dread only got worse when late that day, the door of the room opened and Negan walked in, already with that shit-eating grin

“Hi, ladies.”

“Hi, Negan,” the others greeted, but the words didn’t make it past your lips.

He walked around the room, sometimes approaching any of the wives, who’d smile mechanically at him, and he kissed Abby when he walked past her but didn’t stop, instead going to the sofa where Amber was drinking, silent tears falling down her cheeks.

Negan shook his head, letting out a sigh, and he sat down next to her. “Amber, darling,” he placed his hand on her cheek and made her look at him. “We talked about it, I don’t want you here if you’re going to be sad. As you all know, nobody is here against their will.” Negan glanced at you at that before looking at Amber again and you tried not to scoff. “So, if you want to stop being married to me and go back to whatever work you had to earn points for your parents, you know you can.”

“No, Negan, I want to be here, I love you,” Amber said, sounding like a robot that had rehearsed it. You wondered if Negan would expect you to say those words too, but you were sure you’re insides would burn if you ever said that.

“Good...then maybe you should stop being drunk and crying all the time, right, sweetheart?” Negan let go of Amber’s face when she nodded. “I’d tell you to come to the bedroom, have some fun, see if you feel better…but I had other plans.” Negan got up from the sofa. “Y/N, bedroom.”

You blinked, taken aback. You hadn’t thought that Negan would call for you, you had been with him last night. “Me?”

“Is there any other Y/N?” Negan gave you that shit-eating grin that you wanted to kick. “Yes, you, come on.”

“I haven’t even put on lotion today, I don’t smell like cake,” your mouth said before your brain could stop it, but Negan’s grin went to bigger, and so did the mischief in his eyes.

“Don’t worry, darling, I have some in my bedroom, I’ll lather you with it myself, get you smelling all nice for me, my little dessert,” he taunted you with that damn grin, and you bit your tongue. “Come on.”

Negan began walking to his bedroom and you looked at the other women. “Didn’t he have a wife for each day of the week?” You whispered and Tanya snorted.

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“Y/N!” Came Negan’s voice from the corridor, and so you took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and followed him.

You were sat down on the bed, tugging at the sheet to wrap it around you, looking everywhere but at Negan. “Can I leave?”

“No,” Negan answered and you frowned, you had expected him to say yes, maybe send someone else. You looked at him and he was smiling as if he were again trying to annoy you.

You rolled your eyes. “What do you want me to do, then?”

“Talk.” Negan grinned and if he was trying to annoy you he was succeeding.

“Seriously? You want to talk to me?” You said, but then, you had always thought that Negan loved to hear himself speak, so maybe it wasn’t that strange, but probably he’d better talk to any of the other wives that were better at pretending to listen.

“Yes, doll, I feel like I should be honest with you,” Negan began, reaching to place a hand on your thigh, under the sheet, and once again you had to fight the instinct of slapping it. “I wouldn’t have killed Daryl, you know, if you hadn’t married me.”

“Yeah, sure.” You scoffed.

“I wouldn’t…Rick? Sure, I would have killed him there, in front of all of you, right that moment, I can’t let go of what he did, people need an example,” Negan kept going. “Dwight…I’d have killed that fucking rat too.”

You were about to say that you didn’t give a shit about what happened to Dwight and that he was not part of the deal, but Negan kept speaking.

“Eugine…I don’t know…” Negan hummed. “He crossed me, I want to kill him, but that awesome brain of his, I want to use it. I want to take his brain out of his head and put it in someone else’s.”

“Don’t we all,” you muttered, and Negan chuckled.

“You’re fun, Y/N…could be fun, if you weren’t so focused on hating me,” he said and you scoffed.

“Yes, because you gave me no reasons.”

Negan just chuckled again and he stretched on the bed. “I just think, if you weren’t so focused on hating me? You could see how life here is not bad at all.”

You decided not to comment on that. “So, you’d have killed Rick, Dwight, and Eugine, but nobody else,” you said, instead. “You’d have let Daryl live.”

Negan hummed and nodded. “I’d have brought him here to his cell, start right where we left it, let him see what happens when you ran away from me and go against me, so…yeah, I guess he’d have eventually died.” He shrugged and you scoffed.

“Jeez, great, that’s so much better than having killed him right there.” At least you hoped that you were keeping Daryl safe dealing with all this Negan bullshit.

“I like you, Y/N,” Negan said, throwing you off. “You get annoyed easily and when you’re annoyed you’re funny and cute.” Well…funny and cute was not what you went for when you were annoyed, but you didn’t care what Negan thought, it wasn’t like you could show him how you were when you were annoyed. “So…don’t try to find out what happens to someone when they try to run from me and go against me. It’d be a pity.”

“I wasn’t planning on,” you scoffed. “Being this charming, small wonder that you need to blackmail women so they marry you.” If Negan wanted to see you annoyed, he was going to get it.

“Oh, wow, doll.” Negan gave you that dangerous smile. “Someone has ever told you that you’re pretty charming yourself?” You just shrugged. “Look at you…you kept doggy Daryl on his toes, uh? Yeah, you wore the pants, don’t you, doll? Fuck him in the ass too?”

“If that’s what you wanted from me, you could have just say it,” you said, shrugging, trying not to let Negan get to you, and he chuckled.

“So tell me doll…doggy Daryl and you, was it love at first sight, uh?” Negan smiled, it was obvious that he was enjoying bugging you, you didn’t want to talk about Daryl. “Let me guess…he was fucking prince charming coming to the rescue and you fell right into his arms while your panties dropped to the ground.”

You really didn’t want to talk about Daryl, but you couldn’t help your snort, as you remembered…

“You crazy bitch!”

“Yeah…yeah, he was fucking prince charming when we met,” you said. “The first time I saw him, he called me a crazy bitch and almost run me over with his bike, how could my panties not drop at that.”

Then…

You were running at fast as you could, panting, but those monsters were everywhere. A couple of days ago, someone in your town had started to show those symptoms that the TV was talking about, and now, it seemed as if the whole town had turned into monsters.

You didn’t know what to do, monsters all around, when you heard what you thought was the engine of a bike. The road that crossed your town was a secondary one, barely anyone used it anymore, yet a bike seemed to be approaching.

You didn’t know what else to do, and so you ran towards the noise. It was indeed a man on a bike, who had turned out to be Daryl, but you didn’t care who he was, he was a human, someone alive, and you all but jumped in front of the bike so he wouldn’t just keep riding.

Daryl slammed the breaks in time to not run you over, turning the bike, which skidded across the pavement and ended up falling to the ground, and you stared at it in horror. Great, maybe you had killed the only alive person around.

Daryl was okay, though, and he recovered quick.“What the fuck!” He yelled as he kicked the bike off him and got up, lifting the bike again and glaring at you. “What the hell are you doin’, you crazy bitch?! Want to get killed and make me kill myself in the process?!”

“Please, help me, please,” you had been too scared to react to his words. “Please, please, they’re everywhere.”

A few walkers were already making their way to the road, attracted to the sound. Daryl grabbed a crossbow that was attached to the bike and began shooting at them, putting them down without a word to you, and then he went to retrieve his arrows while you stood there, unsure of what to do. There was a bigger group coming and you gasped at it. Daryl noticed too, making his way back to the bike, swinging his leg over it, and you wondered if he’d ride away and leave you there, what would you do.

“Come on, ain’t got all day!” he yelled at you and you nodded, rushing to get on the bike too.

No sooner had you wrapped your arms around him, tight, Daryl was already speeding up. He rode fast, faster than you had ever driven on a car, and it was a bit scary, you hadn’t been used to bikes back then, even if now it felt almost like second nature. You held to him even tighter and even buried your face on the back of that stranger to not see everything flying around you. Daryl had tensed, though you had barely noticed, busy as you were wondering if you were going to fell off the bike and die, but you hadn’t, and Daryl had kept riding for a long while, stopping only when you seemed to be in the middle of nowhere.

He shook you off him and got up from the bike, looking at you, and so you got up too, feeling very awkward now. “Thank you,” you said when Daryl still just looked at you in silence. “You saved my life.”

“Yeah, and you almost killed me,” Daryl said harshly, lifting the side of his shirt slightly to inspect his skin, and you felt guilty when you noticed some bruises and rashes. “Crazy bitch…” he muttered.

“I’m sorry, really, I am,” you apologized. “But those monsters were everywhere and I heard your bike, I was afraid you wouldn’t’ see me and wouldn’t stop…” Or maybe that he wouldn’t stop even if he saw you. “I thought that the monsters would tear me into pieces, the whole town is infected.”

“Mine too,” Daryl murmured and you guessed maybe that’s why he was on his own too.

“My…my family and friends…they…I saw some and they had become those things…and others were getting eaten…” You had been in shock and then you had been running for your life, you had barely had time to process all that, and now it all hit you so hard that breathing got hard. “Oh god…they’re…they’re dead…they’re dead.”

You shook as tears filled your eyes and you gasped for breath, falling onto the ground as your legs stopped supporting you, and you buried your face into your hands. When you looked up, Daryl was just standing there in front of you, silent and awkward, chewing on his thumbnail. You remembered that he had called you crazy bitch. You guessed that he still thought you were that. But he was alive while everyone else seemed to be dead, and that was a plus.

“Are you…are you going to one of those refugee and military camps that they talked about on the radio?” You asked, trying to stop crying, and Daryl shook his head. “Where’re you going then?” Maybe he had just been riding away from walkers with no destination, he’d said that his town was all infected too.

“I’m gonna find my brother.”

“Oh…okay.” You guessed that it made sense, but it sounded a bit crazy and impossible, with everything that was going on.

You didn’t know what to do yourself…you guessed you should try to go to one of those camps. You weren’t near any, though, and if everything was infested with monsters, you weren’t sure you could reach the place without being devoured, but you guessed that you couldn’t do anything but try. You got up and looked around in despair, wondering where you were, where to go, and how.

“What you gonna do?” Daryl asked harshly while you kept looking around, and you let out a hopeless sigh.

“Go to one of those camps…can you tell me where are we?” If he had a map to point it to you, it’d be so great.

“Alone?” Daryl asked and you shrugged and nodded, he could see that you were by yourself. “You got no weapons.” You shrugged again. You didn’t and you didn’t know how to use them anyway…and by the way, who was this guy who wielded a crossbow and killed monsters as if it were nothing.

“You..uh…just…get on the bike again, if you wanna,” Daryl muttered, barely audible, getting onto the bike and turning it on.

“Really?”You blinked at him.

“Yeah, I ain’t got all day, come on.”

You took a look at Daryl…he looked rough and harsh, you felt like he was trouble, he looked a bit dangerous too, in a way...he was big and strong, a bit intimidating if he might want to hurt you, but it hadn’t seemed like so, for now at least. And he was alive, such a basic thing, but now it seemed to mean everything for you. Before, you wouldn’t have gotten alone into a car with a stranger like him, but now…now you felt as if you didn’t want to be one meter away from that crossbow-wielding, rough-looking, harsh-spoken, alive stranger.

“Okay.” You nodded. “Okay, thank you.”

Daryl didn’t say anything else, just nodded courtly and awkwardly, you got situated behind him, feeling shy about holding to him now that you were not in panic.

“Where’s your brother?” You felt like this looking for his brother thing was a bit reckless and dangerous, wherever his brother was, probably it was all infected too, maybe he was dead…but sure you weren’t going to say that to Daryl and be left on your own. He was alive, while everyone else around you seemed to be dead, so right now, being with someone alive seemed to be the best thing you could get.

“He, uh…was sent to the county jail, was uh…arrested a couple of days ago …guess they never made it to the prison,” Daryl explained as the bike kicked into motion, and you held tightly to him. “But he can’t be far.”

Well…that really hadn’t sounded promising at all, and you wondered why exactly had his brother been sent to jail, but you hadn’t had much choice other than going with Daryl. Little did you know then the great decision you had made.

Now…

“He called you a bitch and almost run you over with his bike, and you got all wet? Who would have thought you were into that, darling,” Negan said and you rolled your eyes.

“In all fairness, I jumped in front of his bike.” You shrugged. “I don’t want to talk about Daryl.”

“No?” Negan smirked and you shook your head.

“Two nights with me and you already want to forget him…” Negan chuckled and you did your best not to roll your eyes. “Okay, whatever you wish, darling…then come here and put that sweet tongue to a better use.”

Abby had told you that this would feel like routine at some point, but you didn’t know when, and you couldn’t wait for it to feel like that, or in any way that it wasn’t how you felt then.

You had been at the Sanctuary for almost two weeks, and you had been called by Negan to sleep with him and listen to his bullshit more than a few times, but it still didn’t feel like routine and you were starting to think that it’d never do and Abby had just said that to make you feel better.

The one wife for each day of the week thing had been, indeed, bullshit. Negan would call for any of you no matter the day, though he didn’t usually had the same one in a row more than a couple of times, and most times he wasn’t content with having just one of you.

During those days, you had seen the other wives talk shit about Negan and laugh at him while you all were alone, and then, when he was there, they’d turn into the sweetest things, they’d talk to him, laugh at his jokes, boost his ego, flirt with him, anything…

You didn’t know how they did it, but it kept Negan in a good mood, and that was a good thing, an important thing, you knew it, even if you weren’t able to do that. Also, when they did their best to get Negan happy, sometimes they’d ask for things and he’d comply, whether it were stuff for them, like a book or something like that, or even stuff for the people that they had outside, a little bit more of food one day or a medical checkout without expending extra credits.

You knew you could take advantage of that too, if not for you, for your people, try to get something more for them out of this situation…but still, you couldn’t get yourself to do it. Whenever Negan called for you, you’d be annoyed and disgusted, and you didn’t bother hiding it much.

You were now watching how Noemi, sat down next to Negan in one of the sofas, was listening with rapture, or at least pretending to, to whatever Negan was telling her about his day. She laughed whenever he did one of those stupid crude jokes, throwing compliments here and there, stroking Negan’s arm or face as if he deserved the tenderness, leaned into his touches…you were honestly impressed, you still felt like punching Negan whenever he touched you. Soon, Negan was getting up, holding Noemi’s hand and taking her with him to the bedroom.

“You could do that too, you know? He’d be nicer with you and get you things.” Lila told you, and Abby too had already told you how your life would be easier and you could get more out of this if you played nice, but you hadn’t been able to get yourself to do it, so you just shrugged.

“You never told me why are you here, who are you protecting?” You asked instead.

“Nobody..well, myself.” Lila shrugged. “I have asthma, it can get pretty bad, I think I’d have suffocated by now if Negan didn’t find me my medication.”

“And in exchange, you only have to sleep with him, how nice of him.” You scoffed but Lila just shrugged.

“It’s better than suffocate.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t say anything, instead, you poured yourself a glass of wine and busied yourself with one of the magazines that you had there. If you were trapped there, at least you planned on emptying all Negan expensive wine…petty, stupid revenge, but there wasn’t much that you could do.

Later, Noemi came back, and she made her way to Amber, who was on another sofa, drinking. “Sweetheart, Negan wants you to go now,” Noemi told her softly and Amber nodded but didn’t move. Noemi took the glass from her hand, leaving it on the table, and then tugged her up onto her feet. “Come on, go, and don’t cry again this time, okay?” Amber nodded in silence again, and made her way to Negan’s bedroom.

“He’s going to kick her out of here if she doesn’t get herself together,” Noemi said, flopping down on the sofa and taking Amber’s discarded glass of booze.

“Yeah, well, he killed his boyfriend, he should understand her crying when he makes her have sex with him,” you scoffed but Noemi just shrugged.

“He wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, no shit…”

So...yeah, that’s how reader and Daryl met, feral full of anger season 1 Daryl. This flashback will continue on the next chapter with their journey to find Merle.

If you enjoyed this, comments and reblogs are always more than welcome, thanks.

Also, as always, excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

IF YOUR TAG IS IN BOLD IT’S BECAUSE I CAN’T MAKE IT WORK (AS YOU KNOW i’M MAKING A NEW TAGLIST)

New taglist for Daryl, if you want to be (un)tagged please let me know.

@jodiereedus22 @coffeebooksandfandom @gruffle1 @twdeadlysins @yenne-yen-illustrations @mychemicalimagines @haleypearce @superflannel @sourwolf-sterek32 @angelontheinside @firehoopinmama @lonewolf471 @hopplessdreamer @daryldixonandfrogs @fanfictionsilove @collecting-stories @princessxpunk @hells-mistress @justyouraveragefangirl1967 @carnationworld @smiithys @polkadottedpillowcase @elisdays @mysterious-398 @captainbuckyboobear @dazzledamazon @spidergirla5 @lilythemadqueen @lightning-butterfly @purplebtsmagic @barra-cudaaa @courtnytrash04 @amazingapricot @seizethesam @harpersmariano @eternalslingshot @fuseburner @phoenixblack89 @boywivlove @amaroho @woundmetender @classyunknownlover @masterninjacow @tenderlyunlikelyexpert @shadowfoxey @kaitieskidmore1 @lilac-day-dreaming @datidixon @sabrinabernal @nj01 @rachelxwayne @elamy17 @angelofthor @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @thanossexual @daryldixonstorm @sttrawberries @huffledor-able541 @lucillethings @browneyes528 @soraitmnt @thereshallbenoother @chickenparmandstoicvulcans @leej2468 @heartlessmarvello @itsmeempar @redneckstrash @bxxbxy @bitchynicole @pulplorrd @supernatural79impala @the-artistic-animal-lover @selfsun @thiccblondeliv @maggie-l-m @baseballbitch116 @tranquiiit @sweatywildpanda @supernatural79impala @theteaset @amaroho @my-current-fandom-is @sapphire1727 @sapphire-angel @insidetoughcake @whitexwingedxdoves @nickangel13 @oceans-daughter-3

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colicotq · 4 years ago

Text

day out with appa | the return of superman au ( 2 )

pairing: lee ho seok x reader

keywords:

camera position

/ camera effects /

( dialogues )

* sound effects *

time

9:04 AM

Entryway

( eomma is leaving )

ho seok stands by the doorway, holding chin hae bouncing him up and down in his arms, watching you gather all your things. chin hae watches with his eyes furrowed together as his little finger points at you, leaning his small body towards you and looking at ho seok with such a confused look on his face.

( it’s as if chin hae knows eomma is leaving )

“i’ll see you later, okay? don’t worry too much! i know you can do really well!” you reassured, as you tip your head back, ho seok leans down and places a quick kiss on your lips * chuu *

“ha yoon, ha eun. come here give eomma a kiss!”

the twins immediately scrambled to the entryway. attacking you with lots and lots of kisses all over your face ( so sweet like candy~ ).

you stood up,

“chin hae, give eomma a kiss.” you present your cheek to your youngest and tapping your finger against it,

( chin hae knows how to give kisses? )

/ slow motion / ( will he be able to do it? )

chin hae leans his whole body and placed a clumsy, sticky kiss to your cheek.

“thank you, chin hae. i’ll see you soon, okay? bye-bye.” you wave shutting the door behind you hurriedly.

( 3... 2... 1... )

( chaos ensues )

not too long after, chin hae broke down into sobs and screams, pointing at the door and tears began to run down his tiny cheeks. babbling some incoherent words that seemed to sound like he was calling out for you.

“it’s okay, it’s okay.” ho seok rushes out of the entryway, “what is that?!”

( startled! )

chin hae stopped crying.

( what could it be? ) ( what kind of special weapon does appa hold? )

Living Room

ho seok points out the large window where it is overlooking the bustling whole city of seoul. endless cars. brilliant skyscraper. chin hae stares in wonder as he tries to fit his tiny fist into his mouth.

ho seok runs his large hand over chin hae’s small back and lightly patting it.

* amazement * ( appa’s distraction technique worked so well! )

“appa, where did eomma go?” asked ha yoon,

“eomma is going to work. appa doesn’t have work today so, i get to spend time with you and do fun stuff!”

“are you not working forever? i want to play with you every day, appa.” ha eun mumbles.

“appa is going to work less from now on. i want to play with ha yoon, ha eun and chin hae too.”

“is that a promise, appa?” ha eun looks up at expectantly, holding out her little pinky finger to ho seok, who wrapped his own much larger pinky.

“yes. stamp.” they press their thumbs together, “and sign. ho seok says, ha eun opens up her palms as ho seok runs his index finger all around in squiggles.

( it is official! appa can’t take it back anymore! )

{ authors note: in Korea, when you do a pinky promise, you curl your pinky together, ‘stamp’ pressing thumbs together and ‘sign’ just signing. which to some kids make it official and can’t take it back type of thing! }

ho seok: it honestly breaks my heart every time they tell me that they want me home more. there are so many things that i have missed out i feel, i want to bond with my kids and make it as memorable as possible. i don’t want them feeling that they are unloved, that i am not putting in the effort or not wanting to be there. this show will help with that.

ho seok: ha yoon, ha eun and chin hae. let’s create lots of memory together from now on. * coo *

11:28 AM

Parent’s Bedroom

“we have to get dressed up, okay?” ho seok says as he flicks through your shared closet that now took the majority of your kid’s clothes. chin hae who now didn’t think about his eomma anymore rolled around happily on your large bed, scratching the bedsheets with his ever-growing nails. ( calm )

( where could the lee family going? )

/ zoom in on chin hae, ha yoon and ha eun’s clothing for the day on the bed as well as a pair diapers. / * awe *

/ a side by side photo of, ha yoon and ha eun similar clothing. / ( they are going to look so pretty and cute dressed alike~ )

“where are we going, appa?” asked ha yoon bounding into the bedroom, plopping herself on the ledge of the bed as she watches her appa with careful eyes.

( looking at appa with lots of adoration~ ) * coo *

“we’re going to a sanctuary today then we’re going to eat lots of food!” ho seok responds, as he undresses chin hae’s pyjamas and taking off his diapers then scurrying off the bathroom.

ha yoon follows.

( trotter, trotter )

Bathroom

“appa, what’s a sancgary?” ha yoon mispronounced, standing by the door way.

“sanctuary.” ho seok corrects, “it’s where they take care of animals.”

ho seok quickly washes up chin hae, the little 6-month-old would occasionally reach out his small for the running water and be splashed on. chin hae throws his head back meeting his appa’s loving gaze and show off his gummy smile when ho seok grins at him. ( i’m having a lot of fun playing with water! ) * coo *

“is it nice there?” ha yoon continues to ask.

“yes! we’re going to meet lots of birds.”

with that ha yoon runs off once again ( sprints! )

“chin hae~” ho seok calls as the baby he had in his grasp swivels around by the sound of his name, “do you like the water? hm?”

chin hae stares then smiles brightly. ( big smiles for appa! ) dipping his hand in the running water before splashing on ho seok.

“i’m soaked now, chin hae~”

( sorry, not sorry appa! )

Living Room

( rush, rush )

“ha eun! ha eun!” ha yoon plops herself on the sofa beside ha eun ( oof ) who is entranced by the cartoons playing on the TV.

( fixated on cartoons. don’t disturb. ) * laughs *

“ha eun, we’re going to meet birds!” this caught ha eun’s attention.

“birds?”

“yes!”

“can we feed the birds?” ha eun ask, making ha yoon ponder before sprinting back to the bedroom.

Parent’s Bedroom

chin hae is wrapped up in a warm, fluffy blanket. ho seok laid out some toys to keep chin hae entertained all in while he gets the little 6-month-old ready for the day out, ho seok slips on his diapers.

warms up the baby lotion on his hand and lathers his hand.

( chin hae is fully bathed now~ )

ho seok in and presses his nose on his cheek and taking a deep breath in.

“chin hae, you smell so good now. eomma is going to be very happy!” ho seok exclaims,

“i wonder why, babies all smell really good and adults smell different.” ho seok mumbles to himself, “chin hae-ah, what’s your secret, hm?”

chin hae smiles cheekily as the sound of his father calling his name.

( it’s called love from eomma, appa and noonas! ) * coo *

“appa! appa!” ha yoon screams who came barrelling into the room, crashing into ho seok’s calves.

“yes? yes?” ho seok says as he slips in chin hae’s shirt and trousers.

“are we going to feed the birds too?” ha yoon asked,

“you have to ask the uncles and aunties who work there politely. you have to say, ‘can i feed the bird, auntie, uncle?’, can you say it after me?”

“can i feed the birds?” ha yoon follows her appa softly.

“good girl.” ho seok praises, “ha yoon-ah, can you call ha eun for me? you two have to take a shower before we go because the birds will smell you. auntie or uncle won’t let you feed the birds.”

“yes, appa.”

( did you start teaching them manner at a young age? )

ho seok: of course, i want them to have great manners and extremely polite. i also want the girls and my son to know that it is extremely important to ask for permission beforehand. it’s not okay to whatever you want because you just want to. teaching them that also makes them think too about what they feel comfortable with. it teaches respect. it starts off at the household, from eomma and appa. * amazement *

( who thought of it? )

ho seok: it was me and my wife’s idea. we first introduced them to it by showing them, my wife would ask me ‘is it okay for me to use your bag?’ then i would say yes or no. vice versa. kids are smart, they were able to pick it up immediately. as i said, it starts off with eomma and appa. * amazement *

( great parenting technique by lee ho seok )

“chin hae, you have wait here and play, okay? your noona’s have to take a quick shower, yes?”

chin hae was preoccupied with the toys around.

( i’m busy, appa. )

just in time, his little girls came through the bedroom door.

“appa, are there cameras in the bathroom too?” ha eun ask glancing all over the room,

“yes, do you want me to turn it off?” ho seok ask,

“yes please. i am a big girl now.”

“okay, okay. appa will turn it off now.”

12:45 PM

Car

with that everyone was out of the house, showered and dressed for the day’s activity. out of the apartment, everyone was now down in the parking garage getting ready to leave.

“is everyone excited?” ho seok asks as he buckles in chin hae into his car seat,

“yes!” the twins exclaimed excitedly as they climb on their own car seat in the minivan.

( they truly are big girls now! they can buckle themselves in without appa’s help~ ) * amazement *

/ zoom in to ho seok smiling at them. / ( proud appa! )

“chin hae, are you excited?”

( yes! )

( chin hae can’t hold his excitement any longer! ) / zoom in to feet kicking back and forth / ( he can’t contain it! he has to kick his legs )

“okay! appa has to check your car seat, okay?”

“yes!”

the twins raise their arms up in the air as ho seok closely inspect and make sure it is secure. ho seok ensured that it was firmly in place.

“good girls. ha yoon, ha eun, you two really big girls now!” ho seok compliments making the twins beam in excitement ( proud big girls! ).

ho seok shuts the van door behind him and got onto the driver’s seat.

“are we all ready?”

“yes!”

/ zoom in on chin hae / ( yes appa! )

“then let’s go!”

1:15

Sanctuary Entrance

ho seok had chin hae strapped against his chest, he also had a dark backpack on which contained all the essentials ho seok needed for his children such as bibs, their training chopsticks, diapers etc. while he adjusts carrier on his chest making sure that chin hae is comfortable.

ha yoon and ha eun stood by their father’s legs waiting patiently. * amazement *

ho seok: my wife drilled onto their heads to never run off especially in public, they always have to hold onto appa, eomma, uncle, auntie, grandma or grandpa's hand. we told them it’s because they can get lost and we would be very sad. it worked pretty well. * oh~ *

ho seok: though they are young still, it doesn’t always work. i may be a little bit cruel too when they let go of me or my wife's hand... i hide on purpose. * laughs *

“alright, can you hold hands with appa?” ho seok held his hand out as the twins reach out.

{ author pop in: imagine a big beefy guy with his tiny cute children😭😭 }

“appa, did uncle camera want to see the birds too?” ha yoon says, pointing at the vj cameraman who is walking ahead of them.

“yes. uncle camera wants to see the birds. do ha eun and ha yoon want to see the birds?”

“yes! uncle camera, you have to ask the aunties or uncles if it’s okay to feed the birds beforehand, okay?” ha yoon repeats her father’s words. * amazement * ( ha yoon took the advice to heart! wow! )

“good girl. you always ask if it’s okay!” ho seok compliments.

Sanctuary Booth

“hello,” ho seok greets the woman, “i booked tickets under the name lee ho seok.”

“yes. please give me a minute as i sort your ticket.”

/ zoom in ha eun goes on her tiptoes, desperately trying to see what the lady was doing behind the low counter. /

“auntie, is it okay for ha yoon, ha eun, chin hae, appa and uncle to feed the birds?” ha eun ask, ( how considerate of ha eun! )

“yes! it’s okay! but, you have to ask the workers for their food. don’t feed them the food you are bought because they can get a stomach ache.” the worker informs as she prints off the ticket.

“yes. i will not feed the birds my sandwich and my juice.” ha eun nods determined.

“okay, here are your tickets.” the woman hands the ticket as ho seok bows politely.

“thank you very much.” ho seok turns to his twin girls, “let’s go!”

“thank you very much auntie.” ha yoon bows politely mimicking her father.

“have a good day! drink plenty of water.” ha eun waves her hand before running to her father’s side and grabbing his hand.

* coo * ( the twins are so bright and polite! ) ( they speak so well too! ) ( they will grow up to be amazing girls ) * cheers *

Parrot Sanctuary

“hello!” ho seok greets the worker who had a colourful parrot resting on his arm, the twins look at the man in such awe ( uncle is so cool ) "say hello to uncle, ha eun, ha yoon."

"hello." the twins bows, ha eun hides behind her appa's leg and clutched onto his jeans ( ha eun is a little bit scared of the bird. ) while ha yoon bravely approaches the man and got on top of the bench. staring at the bird and flapped its large set of wings.

ho seok: you can still clearly tell the difference between them. ha yoon is the twin that always tries everything and is not easily scared. ha eun is a little more cautious when it comes to new things which okay, you just have to encourage her. ha yoon really takes after the unnie role and makes sure that ha eun is comfortable. * awe *

( ha yoon is such a sweet unnie~ )

"ha eun, come here." ha yoon calls for her sister patting the free space beside her on the bench, "it's not scary!"

"is it not scary?" ha eun looks at her twin for comfort who nods in confirmation and slowly ha eun approached ( hesitant ). sitting on the bench, ha yoon presents her hand out to which ha eun quickly accepts * laughs *

/ zoom in on their intertwined small hands / * awe *

"see, it's not scary!"

"i'm not scared because i'm with you and appa." * awe *

"chin hae, do you want to see the parrot too?" ho seok cooed as he carefully shifts chin hae in arms as he unbuckles the carrier so chin hae could a chance to see the parrot. once, chin hae is free from the carrier, he quickly swivelled around to inspect the unfamiliar place.

( freeze )

"dah!" chin hae points at the parrot,

"yes, it's a parrot. doesn't the parrot look pretty?" ho seok approaches the parrot and stood behind the girls, "ask uncle if you can pet the parrot, chin hae."

"app, it's rude to not ask for the parrot's name before petting them." ha yoon lightly scolded ho seok * laughs *.

( nervous )

"sorry, sorry. what is the parrot's name?" ho seok ask the worker slightly embarrassed.

"her name is, jeolla and yes you can pet her but just gently on her head."

"okay, chin hae, we're going to pet jeolla gently, okay?" ho seok held onto chin hae's wrists as he leans onto towards the parrot, he sticks out his index finger, ho seok let his tap the head of the parrot then quickly pulls away.

"wow! chin hae you just pet jeolla!" chin hae stares at his father silently then points his index finger once again.

"oh? do you want to pet jeolla again?"

"uncle, can i pet jeolla too?" ha yoon ask,

"of course!" the worker agrees as he holds the parrot closer to ha yoon and ha eun, unfortunately, ha eun didn't expect the sudden action and flinched. scooting away from the parrot. * laughs *

ha yoon scrambles not missing the opportunity to pet the parrot's wings and head ( ha yoon is so brave ), the parrot preened its feather, ha eun was startled even further when it did this. she grabbed onto ho seok's shirt like some sort protection.

( oh no, appa is the only protection from danger. )

"ha eun, it's okay. the parrot is not scary, can you try for appa? just once? if you don't like it, it's okay."

ho seok: we don't believe in pressuring them into things especially when they're uncomfortable. it just ends up with nowhere, we want them to try it out without force then let them decide for themselves.

( will ha eun bravely pet jeolla or will she stay within her comfort level? ) / slow motion /

ha eun bravely pets the parrot then quickly pulls away.

"good girl! that was really good, ha eun! appa is very proud of ha yoon and ha eun!"

"do you want to hold jeolla too? appa can go first if that is okay so, the kids can be more comfortable."

"yes, yes." ho seok agrees shifting chin hae to rest on his hip so he could have one free hand. the worker quickly help ho seok slip on the protective leather gloves.

"watch appa!" ho seok's children watch him with eager eyes, as the worker place the parrot on his free arm.

( appa looks so cool )

"appa, i want to try!" ha eun exclaims,

"you want to try? if you're okay with it then go for it."

the worker slips on a much smaller leather glove,

( how well will ha eun handle this? )

the worker carefully places the parrot, ha eun watched the bird rest on her arm cautiously.

"ha eun, you look so cool! well done!"

( let's do more cool things in the future appa! )

tags ( that you didn't ask for but wanted to see a part 2 ):

@babybee05 @ugghsthetic

#wonho x reader #mx wonho #wonho #lee wonho #monsta x wonho #wonho x reader domestic au #wonho imagines #lee hoseok #the return of superman wonho

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thenextchapter22 · 3 years ago

Text

Mail Order… Kitten Girl

Part 7: Bath Time

Description: Satan accidentally orders a special type of ‘cat’ online after having a few too many drinks…

Tags: Past Abuse, Past Non/Con, Slavery, Pet Play, Cat Hybrids, Fluff, Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content

Pairing(s): Reader/Everyone (but Luke)

Link to my AO3: Click Here

In this chapter: Continuation of the last chapter... Asmo gives Kitten a bath, featuring some fluff and hurt/comfort...

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

+++++ MINORS DNI +++++

Asmo carried you into his bedroom first, and then straight into his bathroom which adjoined it. It was one of his favorite places, he always told you.

The smells that hit your nose were sweet, and the air was warm and pleasant on your exposed body. You began to purr, tail flickering lazily, occasionally brushing against his body to make him shiver. The continued contact with another person always brought you comfort, so you curled up into him, pressing your breasts to his shirt, feeling small in his arms like you did with all your Master’s when they held you or carried you. They were large demons, after all, and you loved to be coddled.

"Smells nice," you commented quietly.

Asmo smiled down at you. "I was hoping that these aromas wouldn't overwhelm that sensitive little nose~" he leaned down and eskimo kissed you, making you giggle.

He set you on a cushioned bench along the wall. As he sat you down, you squeaked and reached up for him immediately, your bum tensing up. "Ngg!"

The demon made a sympathetic sound. “Oh Kitten, does it hurt?” He lifted you up again into his arms, careful to hold you at your thighs and back with each arm. You did, after all, still have that plug nestled inside of you, your hole throbbing around it.

You shook your head, pressing into his neck. “S-sore, ‘s all.”

“Here, let’s lie you down instead.”

He got a pillow and placed it at the edge of the bench, and lay you down on your side. The leash was still attached to your collar, and so you moved it to drape it so that didn’t get in your way. Your Master would take it off, you were not permitted.

There were still some aftershocks from before, and you blushed remembering what happened. Cumming in front of all your Masters... So obscene, and really fun, too.

But now, as you watched Asmo pouring oils of different colors into the large tub, you made the realization of just what was about to happen, and it honestly started to scare you.

You had a fear of water. Or rather, a fear or taking baths. Of being dunked in deep water. So far you had only showered, and the warm rain-like water made you clean and felt nice—you liked the rain, it was calming—and you had room to breathe inside the shower.

The fear was like a dark smoke clogging your lungs, and every inhale made it harder to breathe. Memories of past baths at that terrible place began washing over your mind, and you whimpered, bringing a claw-extended hand to your mouth to keep quiet. Your Master wanted you to take a bath, you had to do it...

But Asmo heard your groan. His head popped up to face you from where he was kneeling over the giant tub. “Kitten?”

His soft-spoken concern had you crying. You sniffled, and your voice echoed in the room, “No bath, please!”

His orange-yellow eyes widened. “Baby, no, don’t cry,” he begged, quickly rushing to you. He took your hand from your mouth and held it tight, stroking over your knuckles with his thumb. “What’s wrong, do you not want to have a nice bath?”

Your mouth stretched open into a wail, “Nooooo-”

He hushed you, and pet your hair with his other hand. “Love, it’s okay, I’m here. Please tell me what’s troubling you, so I can help.” His hands kept caressing you, trying to alleviate your anguish. From your head to your cheeks, he was continuously touching you, grounding you.

Eventually he took a seat on the bench by your head, and you crawled into his arms, the plug in your butt was uncomfortable but it took a backseat to the emotional distress. Your hands curled around his neck, and your legs outstretched one way over his, and you cried for a little while, his arms rubbing your back and neck, his lips kissing your head and cheeks, shushing you softly.

“Darling, I have you,” he would say over and over.

Soon enough you were just shaking, and breathing slowly and with minimal trouble. Your face felt raw, as did your throat. You leaned back a bit from his body to breathe, and glanced at his face. His kind eyes stared into your own, and you gathered the courage to speak on the past that haunted you.

“They-” you stuttered out, “w-would make m-me go un-nder. Hold m-me, h-hurt me...”

“You’re talking about where you came from?” he said, tense as he held you.

“Y-yeah...” you sniffled.

Flashes of ‘before’ came behind your eyes. Dunked in a large basin with cold water, or too hot water. Your ears got wet and it hurt. They tore your tail with rough scrubbing, and your skin was fire hot and itchy.

You sobbed dryly. “I-I’m scared...”

Asmo kissed your head. “Do you want me to go in with you? I can put on my swimsuit, or not. Whatever my Kitten needs.”

You nodded. That would be better, you thought. Having him close, your Master by your side. “Please, in with me? Um, n-no clothes? But I don’t wana play... Is that okay, Master?”

He cooed. “Of course, dearheart.” He reached around and grabbed your collar, the bell ringing, “let’s get this off, and then we’ll go in the tub.”

The collar and leash were taken off, and he lifted you up as he stood. You gasped, not expecting that, and frantically gripped his neck, claws digging in a bit. He winced but said nothing. Then he set you down on the edge of the tub, and you stood on shaky legs. “Put your feet in and tell me if it’s too hot or cold, okay?”

You did as he asked, dipping a toe in, and it was perfect. You looked up at him and nodded shyly. “The water is fine...”

He grinned. “Perfect!” He held out his hand, and you took it, and he helped you step in. “Careful, there are steps here to get in.”

You took a deep breath, each step making it harder. Eventually you were up to your breasts, and he got his clothes off quickly and slipped in the tub, too.

“Why don’t you go over here, beautiful, so I can take out your plug,” he pointed to the side.

You bent over the side of the tub, knees on the outer seating but still in the water, just a few inches of your back out of the warmth. He put his hand on your inner thigh and pulled you open, and then grabbed the plug to gently twist and pull. It hurt a little, and you clenched down.

“No, no, love, you need to loosen up so I can pull it free. Bare down now,” he whispered.

You did, and it was easier then, and the plug came loose. Your bottom felt open and loose, and he softly rubbed his finger over your abused hole. “Does it feel good, or bad?” he asked matter of fact.

You shifted from side to side, and winced. “Hurts, not a lot, though.”

“Hm, that’s very good. Satan used plenty of lube. When we’re done, I'll put some lotion on it to help the aches.”

You settled back down, sitting carefully on your bottom. He came over and maneuvered behind you, and you felt him against your back, his cock wasn’t hard but it was there, and you suddenly had a thought that you should please him.

“I-I...”

He understood, and placed his hands around your body, skin to skin, chest to your back, his head fitting to the side of your face. He was soft and warm. “It’s okay, we don’t have to do anything. Let me wash your hair, and your tail if you’d like that.”

You were glad of that. You loved pleasing them, but the non-sex stuff you did with them was fun, too.

“Please... I-I'd like that, Master...”

“All right then, lovely kitty, we’ll get your hair wet first.”

He cupped a hand over your eyes, and water was pouring over your head, and he was mindful of your ears, too. You were tense, though, and he paused after he did it the first time. “Kitten, are you okay if I keep going?”

You swallowed with eyes shut tight. “Y-yes. Just... my ears, please...”

“I’ll be careful not to get water in them, I promise.”

He used a cup and poured it over your head, and was patient when you tensed up. He kissed your cheeks, and said how proud he was of you, how brave you were. It made you blush.

“So sweet~”

“Master, please...”

He laughed, and nodded. “Okay baby, now for the shampoo.”

He lathered up a sweet-smelling shampoo that was on the outside of the tub in a basket and scrubbed it on your scalp. You immediately leaned back into it. “I put some calming oils in the tub for you, and this is one of my favorite shampoos. It softens your hair and smells like cotton candy. You like sweet things, don’t you, Kitten?” he teased.

You blushed. “Yes, Master, I do...” It was known by now that you liked sweets. Cakes, candy, anything with cream. It was all tasty and you never got to have much.

“I love sweet things, too. Especially sweet Kittens like the one in my arms,” he bent to kiss your neck, and you shivered. It was a sensitive spot for you, your neck. He just hummed, “Let’s rinse this out, and then we can condition your hair.”

You were thankful he was telling you what he was doing. You still felt a nervous but having his hands caress you and guide you was perfect.

He finished rinsing your hair, and it was done. Then he did the same with conditioner, and it was all good, no water in your ears.

He pecked your cheek. “Such a good job,” he praised. “Can I touch your tail?”

You nodded, and lifted your tail out of the water. “Here... ‘m sensitive at the base of my tail.” They sort of knew that, but you wanted to double check.

“Okay, thank you for telling me.”

He did the shampoo and conditioner and was very gentle, and it was nice to have your tail pet like that. Usually, it was just your ears that got pet, so this was a nice change.

“Okay, my dear, all done. Do you want to soak, or do you want out?”

“Out.”

He didn’t laugh at how quickly you replied and instead helped you stand up. The water dripped down your nude body and the air felt cooling on your skin, your nipples hardening. Asmo didn’t pay mind to that, either, and led you to stand on a rug. He put on a robe and tied it around his waist. You did see his mild erection, but right now you didn’t want to do any of that. Your head wasn’t in the right place, and thankfully your Masters were kind enough not to force you into doing things.

Asmo was rifling through the closet for towels, picking at them and shaking his head, looking for a specific one obviously. “I have a nice fleece robe for you, and cozy slippers. Do you want me to blow dry your hair, or let it dry naturally?”

You didn't like the sound of the blow dryer. “No dryer,” you said adamantly.

He chuckled. “Got it, love.” He used a towel to dry over your body, and you let him, feeling pampered. The towel was so soft and fluffy. You purred, leaning into his touch. “Ugh, you are the most precious little thing ever,” he cooed, kissing at your cheek. Then he grabbed a bathrobe, pink and fluffy, and put it around you loosely.

“No underwear?” you asked with a frown.

“Do you want some?” he asked back.

You pursed your lips, and swished your tail back and forth. The robe was snug and felt soft on your body, so no, you actually didn’t want underwear.

“No thank you.”

He nodded. “We have to put cream on your bum anyway, so come this way,” he held out his hand, and took you to his bedroom and had you lay on the bed on your belly. He left for a quick second, and then he was back and lifted the robe up and spread your cheeks open with one of his hands, your puckered hole tensing from the cool air.

“Master...”

He hummed, and a cold finger glopped with something rubbed over your hole, dipping inside just so in order to curl and rub. He did this for a few seconds and then his finger was gone. “Good, that’ll help you feel better.”

You turned your head, and then decided to just roll over on your back. He came over to kiss your nose, and you swiped at his face with your tongue playfully, catching his chin. You felt warm and soft and floaty from the last hour of sex time and bathing, or it could have been longer or shorter, you were not totally sure.

“Playful Kitten,” he teased. Then your stomach growled. He giggled. “Hungry Kitten, too. It is dinner time.”

He frowned a second later, and sat on the bed next to you, grabbed his phone and started texting. You leaned over to see him messaging Beel for food. You whined. “Can I have sweets?”

“After dinner, lovely. We can all have some cake that Barbatos made.”

Your ears perked up. “Barb made cake?” your stomach growled louder, and your cheeks reddened.

Asmo cooed. “He came by while we we’re in the bath to drop it off. I'm not sure why or what it was for, but it looks good. And Beel promised to save some for you.”

There was a knock on the door, and Beel peeked in after Asmo gave the okay to come inside. He held a plate of food, steaming and aromatic. His eyes ran over you, and he seemed satisfited with what he saw and stepped in fully.

“None for me?” Asmo blinked, but he had a small smile on his face.

Beel frowned. “Sorry, I only brought food for Kitten.”

Asmo sighed. “That’s okay, I've been watching my figure lately anyway.”

Both your Master’s sat on either side of you, and took turns feeding you. It was nice. You leaned back against the soft pillows eventually and yawned.

Beel’s large hand went to your head, and he smiled. “You should sleep now after eating all that food. Your stomach isn’t as big as mine.”

You yawned again, and smiled sheepishly. “Yes, Master. Can I have a hug before bed?”

Beel grinned. He held you to his chest, smoshing you perfectly. He smelled like warm spices, and his hugs were some of your favorite hugs out of all your Masters’ because he was so big—muscles, you meant, not fat. He did work out, and you also liked to lick his sweat from his pecs or neck.

The red-headed demon kissed your forehead, humming. Then his lips pressed to your cheek, and slid over to your lips. You licked at them for a second, tasting him, but he didn’t let you in. That was okay, though.

“You get hugs and kisses, little kitty. Always,” Beel said, and he pet your wet hair from your ears and smiled.

Cheeks flushed, you reached up to peck his lips in one last kiss. “’night.”

Beel took the plates and turned at the door to smile at you, “Good night, Kitten. Sweet dreams.” He shut the door as he left.

Asmo wiggled on the bed and whined. “My turn for kisses now!”

You laughed. “Yes, Master,” you leaned over and gave him several kisses on his soft lips, and one on his nose, your fangs grazing ever so slightly.

“Kitty has such a lovely mouth,” he sighed.

You yawned, and reached for him. “Cuddle me?”

He did not hesitate. “How can I resist that face?”

He curled himself around you, his fingers went to your bare belly to rub circles, and it soothed your full stomach. His hair was wet at the ends and dripped on you, but you didn’t care. This was exactly where you wanted to be.

“Sleep tight, lovely,” Asmo whispered in your ear, right as you shut your eyes to enter dreamland.

#obey me fanfic #fanfiction #obey me #reader fanfiction #cat hybrid #hybrids #mail order kitten girl #female reader #obey me reader x everyone #my fics #ao3 link

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crazy4dragons · 4 years ago

Text

Bath

Hiccup treats Astrid to a bath on their honeymoon. Like Heaven AU. Rated PG13 for some mild sexual implications.

“What’s this?” Astrid asked, shuffling into the dim hotel bathroom, where she was met with the sight of Hiccup lighting candles.

Hiccup turned around and offered a lopsided grin. “I know you like baths, and since we don’t have a tub at home, and since this is our honeymoon, I thought it would be nice to…you know, surprise you with one.” He dropped rose petals into the steaming, bubbly tub.

“Well, I appreciate it. But as you can see, the tub is big enough for two…” She raised an eyebrow and gave a flirty wink.

“Okay, I’ll join you. On one condition: You let me share some of this wine I poured for you.” He gestured to the wine glass that was sitting on the edge of the tub.

“Deal.”

As Astrid began undressing, Hiccup turned on the heat lamp before discarding his own clothes and following his wife into the bath.

A delighted moan escaped Astrid’s lips as she leaned against Hiccup’s chest, bubbles lapping at her chin.

Hiccup gently massaged Astrid’s neck and shoulders, occasionally allowing his hands to slip down and rub her arms. Pressing a soft kiss into her hair, he said, “Now milady, I just want you to relax. I got you, okay?”

“But what about you?” she asked.

“Shhh. I’m not the one who craves a good bath. What would make me the happiest right now is if you would let me get you all massaged and washed up. I got a fresh bar of soap, some nice-smelling shampoo, and the perfect conditioner to get you a good, deep conditioning. With a scalp massage, of course.” He dug his fingers into her hair and rubbed her scalp.

Astrid closed her eyes and smiled. “Just like when we were in high school and you’d play with my hair while we were soaking in your parents’ hot tub.”

“Only now, no swimsuits required,” Hiccup teased. He cupped his palms and, after gathering water, gently splashed it into Astrid’s head, soaking her hair. Then, he poured shampoo into his hands and went back to massaging her scalp.

“Mmm-hmm.” She placed a hand on his thigh. “Do you mind handing me that wine, babe?”

Hiccup handed Astrid the wine glass. “Here you go. See? I told you I got you.”

“I never doubted you.” After taking a few sips, she reached up and put it back in its place, the heat lamp shining on her bare skin as she emerged from the water. “The heat feels amazing,” she sighed, sinking back down into the bubbles.

“I thought you’d like it. I put your towel right under it, too, so it should be nice and toasty when you get out.” He continued working his fingers through her hair. “No need to worry about shivers and goosebumps.” Hiccup pressed a kiss against her cheek.

“Mmm. This is definitely one of your better ideas.”

“What do you mean, ‘better ideas?’”

“Well, there was the time you decided it would be a good idea to drive across the entire island without a GPS. And there was the time you went out grocery shopping before I woke up, didn’t bring your phone, ended up getting a flat tire and I couldn’t find you because I didn’t know where you went.”

“Hey, both those things happened months ago.” He wrapped his arms around her middle and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Alright, your hair’s all shampooed. You wanna lean back and rinse?”

Astrid tilted her head back into the water and, after giving her a hair a good rinse, sat up and squeezed the extra water out.

“Okay, let’s get you conditioned now.”

“Sounds good.” She reached for the glass of wine and took a drink before offering it to Hiccup. “You want some, babe?”

Accepting the glass, he sipped the wine before placing it back on the edge of the tub and turning his attention back to Astrid’s hair. After massaging her scalp again, taking care to check that none of the bubble bath suds had gotten caught in it while she rinsing, he poured conditioner into his palm and worked it through her golden locks.

“Alright, now the instructions say to let it sit for at least ten minutes before you rinse. So how about I get started on your body?”

Astrid nodded in agreement.

“I’m gonna get your back last, because I want to make sure you get a good massage before you get out.” He grabbed the bar of soap, lathered up his hands, and soaped up her arms.

“Mmm-hmm.” She sank against his chest as he rubbed her arms, stopping at her hands to slip his fingers between hers. A smile crept across her lips at the feeling of his ring against her skin. Hiccup wasn’t one to wear jewelry, but he happily wore his wedding band and swore on their wedding night that he’d never take it off.

After allowing her to rinse off the soap suds, he reached around to her front and allowed his fingers to graze her breasts. “Do you mind if I…”

Astrid laughed. “Only you would act awkward about touching my boobs on our honeymoon. We’re married for Thor’s sake. Of course I don’t mind.”

“Hey, just because we’re naked doesn’t mean you want me to grab your boobs. Maybe you were hoping for a perfectly innocent bath with me.”

“And when were we ever innocent?”

“When we were in high school.”

“Considering you admitted to jerking off while fantasizing about what I looked like naked, and considering I stared at your abs at the beach, I wouldn’t say we were innocent.”

“Hey, I’m sorry, okay?”

“You know, if you wanted to know so badly, you could’ve just asked.”

“Please, Astrid.”

“Hey, we were close enough that I probably would’ve flashed you my boobs if you really wanted to see them.”

Hiccup cupped Astrid’s breasts. “And why am I just finding out about this now?”

“Because you never asked, you muttonhead.”

“So you’re saying I should’ve asked? And risked getting punched?”

“I wouldn’t have punched you!” insisted Astrid.

“And how was I supposed to know that?”

“You could’ve taken a chance.” She leaned against his chest and let out a soft moan as he caressed her nipples with his thumbs.

“Am I turning you on?” smirked Hiccup, bending down to kiss Astrid’s lips.

“What do you think? You know I have sensitive nipples,” she laughed.

“Mmm-hmm. That was the very first thing I found out about your body. And lucky for you, I’m a boob guy, so it all evens out.” He slid his hands down her sides, tracing her curves until he reached her thighs.

“Did you ever think about trying a whole body massage as foreplay? We could get oils and lotions and you could give me a nice rub all over?”

“It hasn’t crossed my mind, but if that’s one of your fantasies, then I’m all for it.” He splashed water over her torso to wash away the soap suds.

“But do you think you’d like it?”

“Of course. I’m down for whatever you are.” He winked. “As long as I can see you naked and get fucked, you know I’m perfectly content.” He lathered up his hands. “Alright, milady, let’s get your back scrubbed.”

Astrid leaned forward and, hugging her legs to her chest, rested her chin on her knees. “Remember when I’d ask you to wash my back before we were a thing? And you’d pretend to be pissed but you’d do it anyway?”

“Looking back, I think me pretending to be pissed was my weak attempt at flirting with you.” He kneaded her shoulders.

“Why didn’t you just ask me to be your girlfriend?”

“I’ve told you before. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.” He paused. “Why didn’t you ask me to be your boyfriend?”

Astrid shrugged. “I’d thought about it. But I didn’t think you liked me like that.”

“I guess I should’ve flirted harder.”

“I don’t know about that. I think I was just blind. I mean, we were best friends for so long, I guess I didn’t think that it was possible you liked me as anything else. Although I should’ve known we’d end up marrying each other.”

“Oh, yeah? Why do you say that?”

“For one, you’d seen my bare ass too many times for things to really be platonic.”

Hiccup laughed. “Hey, I wasn’t complaining about that.”

“But on a more serious note, I don’t think either of us would’ve ever really accepted having to grow apart like we would’ve had to do if we’d married anyone else. We couldn’t have kept having sleepovers, and movie nights, and casually cuddling. And we probably wouldn’t have told each other everything anymore, considering we’d be busy with our spouses and wouldn’t be spending all this one-on-one time together.”

“And how grateful I am that we can have a sleepover every night. Pajamas optional.” Hiccup winked.

“You don’t have to flirt anymore,” laughed Astrid.

“Gotta keep the sparks alive.” He rubbed circles onto her back.

The blonde closed her eyes and let out a contented sigh. “Speaking of pajamas optional, I was thinking of sleeping naked tonight.”

“I approve.”

“Will you do it with me?”

“Is that a trick question?” He kissed the space below her ear. “Alright, you’re all scrubbed and massaged.” After splashing water onto her back and freshly conditioned hair, he handed her the wine glass. “Wanna finish this off before we get out?”

“Of course.” Astrid quickly drank the rest of the wine, then squeezed out her hair and started to rise.

“Wait just a minute, milady. Remember? This was my treat to you. I’ll bring your towel to you first.” Hiccup climbed out of the tub and wrapped a towel around his own waist before grabbing Astrid’s and holding it up. When she stepped onto the bath mat, he enveloped her in it and kissed her neck.

Astrid smirked. “Trying to get laid?”

“Well, if we’re going to bed naked, we might as well…” He reached under the towel and pinched her nipple.

“Stop right there,” she cut in, winding her arms around his neck and pressing a hungry kiss onto his lips.

#hiccstrid #modern au hiccstrid #httyd #like heaven au #fanfic #my writing #hiccstrid fluff

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pitaparka · 5 years ago

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lazy river

request: hell yeah prompt list time! kissing john b in the rain for love and longing? love your content btw summary: it’s been a long time since you’ve been to a water park. jon b knows this, and wants to change that.

pairings: john b. x reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: super fluffy. real cute. might rot your teeth.

a/n: requests still open! i got an AP exam this week. i also have to finish a create task i’ve had weeks to work on and haven’t, so... wish me luck. big love!

It’s just how you remember it as a child; all funnel cakes and water slides and screaming children and too hot pavement. Exactly where you want to be when summer's in full swing.

Probably the best unofficial date you’ve ever been on.

You don’t know how much money John B. had to save up in order to get you there, but the topping on the cake was his ability to score a free bus ride to and from going with a small church group. You'd never known him to be religious, but it was an eventful ride for the two of you. John B. was playing the role of full blown Christian boy, and it was so hard to hide your smiles and giggles that everyone must've thought you were his even more Christian friend. K-love plagued the speakers, and you and John B. agreed some of it wasn't bad, but most of the kids were insufferably nice, to a point where it was almost disingenuous. Standing in line with them was a pain, but as soon as you were able to, you two booked it off to the umbrellas, searching desperately for two lounge chairs. Maybe even one at this point. Anything really, until you found a small bunch of chairs left secluded by a family whose child was not having a good time. It was a perfect spot right under the umbrella allowing you to spread your towels out and leave the cooler by the chair. John B. was fast to attack the food in there; sandwiches, chips, fruits, cheese. You name it and JJ had gotten (stolen) it from somewhere for you two. “You’re gonna get sick,” you commented, as he scarfed down a sandwich. The smell of sunscreen plagues the area. You rubbed some onto your face. John B. had miraculously thought of everything except spray on sunscreen, so you were forced to either buy some from the gift shop at a ridiculously inflated price, or use the lotion. “Sick shmick. Do you want to go on some rides?” He says, wiping his dirty hands down on his towel. The towel that was supposed to wipe down his wet body. You grimaced, but then he slipped his shirt off and shimmied off his flip flops. He was so well toned and tan already. You can’t imagine him wanting to get any tanner. “Yes I do, actually. Can you get my back first?” You say, and wonder if John B. actually forgot the spray on sunscreen or opted for the lotion instead for this reason. His hands were firm on your shoulders as he applied the sunscreen, rubbing the taut muscle there and going dangerously low down your back. It sends a shiver down your spine and he can so obviously tell because he does it again to gauge your reaction. He ruins it though, by sending you off with a buddy pat on your shoulders. “Let’s do pirates plunge first,” he said, and it made you smile how excited he got. You wondered how long it’s been for him too. “No,” you argue, “we have to work our way up to that.” "Do NOT tell me you're planning on staying in the lazy river the whole time," he said, turning to where the middle aged adults who obliged their children lounged, floating leisurely under bridges and waterfalls. It made him shiver. "It's a great place to tan," you teased, and he glared at you. You smiled, and stretched upward. "You want sunscreen?" You ask, and he looks like he's about to say no, but he nods his head yes. His back is smooth under your hands, and you make sure to lather his shoulders up nicely. You hand him the bottle when you're finished, and he scoffed. "You only did half," he says. "You can do the rest," you assure, and he rolls his eyes, squirting a glob of cream onto his palm before smearing it over his chest. "This kind of half-assery won't be tolerated," he jokes, "I'm going to have to report you to the manager." "Oh please. You're the king of half-assery." He gasps as he rubs his palms down his face, leaving streaks of white there. "How dare you. You're fired." He claims, looking over to one of the smaller two-person slides. You lean over to him and rub in the white with your thumbs, cupping his face a little. He watches your face the whole time, which, you have to admit, is a little creepy. When you're done, you shove him for good measure, before taking off in the other direction. The sun beats down hot on your shoulders, and you two spend hours waiting in lines and talking and spending time together. You could see the burn on John B.'s face and expected you were going to feel the burn too later on that night. It was a blessing whenever clouds rolled through the sky, blocking out the sun for a brief period before she cleared them away. The rides were subpar, but you two didn't notice in the slightest, screaming and yelling at each other down the slides and in tubes. The two of you dodged children and concerned parents and other teenagers, bobbing and weaving in and out of lines. Dripping wet, bodies glistening in the hot sun, you two decided funnel cakes were in order. You stood in line as John B. toweled off by your seats, and he ducked under the belt to stand with you. It got him dirty looks, but he didn't notice. "When are the church kids leaving?" You pondered, stretching on your tip toes to look in front of John B., trying to catch a glimpse of any of them. "In like an hour," he says, glancing up at the big clock poised over the food shack. There was only one in the entire park, which must've been good for business. They were so hot when you got them that the powdered sugar on top was melting. But as you made your way back to your seats, you felt it. “Oh no,” you whine, the water droplets on your bare shoulder. You turn to look at John B., but his gaze is not with yours. His eyes are on the sky, the grey storm clouds rolling in above. You sigh loudly. It’s not like you’re afraid of getting wet. Of all the places to be when it rains, a water park ranks at least in the top ten. But now all the rides were going to be closed. For god knows how long. He looked back down at you, grinning, and then noted your crestfallen expression. He pouted. “Why the long face?” He said, grabbing your chin and shaking it. You jerked away from his grasp to sulk. “Our day is ruined,” you grumbled, walking down in the direction of your chairs, planted conveniently under one of the large umbrellas. He jogged to catch up to you, intertwining his hand with yours. He swings it back and forth childishly. If he could, he’d probably skip down the concrete path to your area. "We have to eat these anyway. It'll probably be done by then," he assured. Much to your dismay, it was not in fact done by then. "That bus is probably going to leave early now," you mused, checking the notification app they made all of you download before you left the bus. “No way. This day’s not over. It’s just getting started,” he said, plucking your phone from your grasp and burying it in the bag he had brought. He left the rest of the conversation to your imagination before he took off running, pulling you in tow. “Hey!” You cried out, but you couldn’t help the giggle rising out of your throat when he stumbled over his own bare feet a little. He hushed you as you caught up to him on the side of the lazy river. There was nobody in it. All the employees were at the front entrance of it, escorting people out. "Wanna do a river run?" He said, slipping down the ladder. Your eyes bulged. "They're gonna kick us out," you said, hopping in after him anyway. You two stood downstream, and waited for tubes. It only took a few seconds before John B. was passing you one, rain falling on his hair and chest. "Now it's cold," you complained, but John B. chastised you. "Stop being a baby. Hang on," he said, standing up for you to grab onto one of the handles of his tube. The lazy river in the rain was a lot more fun than a lazy river in the sunshine. It would only be a few minutes before you reached the front of the ride, where all the workers were stuck trying to collect the tubes. John B. was splashing water at you, and shaking your tube to get you to fall out. You return the favor by flipping him over near the waterfall. He came up sputtering, and in return tried to flip your tube as well, but you latched onto his neck. It was easy for him to support your weight in the water, and he grabbed your legs, wrapping them around his waist as the tubes got away from the two of you. They floated sadly down the river, under the waterfall by themselves. John B. chased them, hands supporting you, your arms wrapped around his neck. He moved slowly towards the waterfall, and threatened to throw you under it. You squealed and pushed yourself up against him as much as you could, cradling his head to your own. If you were going down, so was he. But he stopped just short. You pulled away just a bit, and he was looking at you, eyes intense, smile bright. Your heart skipped a beat and you swear you saw him move closer. You couldn't help but do the same. Until his lips were on yours, moving in sync with you, rain pelting your bodies. His hands were firm underneath you, and you knew he wouldn't let you fall. It had been so long since you realized you wanted to kiss him for the first time. You could settle for him kissing you. "I love you, you know that?" He remarked. You thought it was sweet, until he tossed you under the waterfall. You swear you could hear his laugh from under the water.

#john b x reader #john b x you #john b x y/n #john b outer banks #john b #obx #outerbanks imagines #outerbanks x reader #obx imagine #obx x reader #chase stokes #chase stokes x reader #chase stokes imagine #chase stokes obx #chase stokes x y/n #john b imagine #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank outerbanks

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tteokdoroki · 4 years ago

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💜- alright last part of my poly hawks and mirko story, anyone have any requests for the next one?

You wake up to the sound of whisper yells,

“We should wake her up, she needs to drink water and eat something! This whole week she hasn’t been able to recover and she needs to eat!” You hear a voice say, you assume it’s Rumi but you’re too exhausted to check.

“She needs some rest, and I’m not gonna wake her up. She looks so peaceful,” you hear keigo say, arms tighten pulling you closer to his chest.

“Bird brain stop trying to hid her with your wings,”

“No, I cleaned up the apartment while you two were asleep, now it’s my turn to get my cuddles,” keigo whines.

Opening your eyes you look up at keigo, who doesn’t even notice your awake. Rumi has a tray of food in her hands, and she is wearing a hoodie and shorts. You realize that you’re lying on Keigo’s chest, an arm wrapped around you.

“ hi baby, you were so good to us this week, so so good. We couldn’t have asked for a better wife,” Rumi says noticing that you’re awake. She puts down the tray of food and kisses your forehead.

“I’m sorry feather, did we wake you up?” Keigo asks, gently brushing the hair away from your eyes with his free hand.

You shake your head no, voice too sore to speak.

“Here baby, drink up. I bet you’re dying of thirst,” Rumi says grabbing a cup and beginning to pour some water in it.” Keigo, can you please help sit her up?” She asks brining the cup over to the both of you.

Keigo takes it from her hands, as you were about to grab it,”come on feather, let us take care of you,” he says nuzzling his face in your neck as he brings the straw up to your lips,”you were an angel for us this week, let us return the favor,”

You finish drinking and Rumi takes the cup from you, climbing ontop of the bed she holds out an unwrapped lozenge for your throat.

“This will help baby,” she says plopping the sweet tasting medicine in your mouth.

“You wanna eat first? Or take a bath? Or something else?” Keigo asks, sitting up straight, using a wing to help hold you to his chest.

“Bath, please,” you ask as both Rumi and keigo smile.

“Of course feather, Rumi did you get the stuff on the list?” Keigo asks shuffling to the side of the bed, picking you up in his arms and standing up.

“Of course I did Keigo, “

“Wait, what did you get? “You ask, peeking up. They just smile.

“Well, We thought you might enjoy some pampering, so I got you some of those bath salts that are good for sore muscles, some face masks, and some other goodies for you,” keigo said, placing you don’t on the bathroom counter.

“You guys, you didn’t have to, you both are the best,” your smile grew as you kissed them both on their cheek.

“We wanted to, you were so perfect for us, so we wanted to pamper you. Now, let us take care of you,” Rumi says as keigo fills up the bathtub. They both strip down, and keigo steps in first, being careful with his wings. Once you and Rumi are in, keigo takes the shower head and gently begins to wash your hair, giving you a nice scalp massage.

You just smile, closing your eyes as Rumi begins to put the bath salts in.

“You’re so pretty, how did I get so lucky for the two most gorgeous girls to stick around with me,” keigo says admiring you and Rumi.

“Hmm. You’re right, I’ll just take my baby bunny and leave you,” Rumi says jokingly grabbing your hand and kissing it.

Keigo scowls and shields you from rumi’s sight,”no. Mine. Both of you are mine, and I’m yours.” He grumpily says as Rumi laughs and tries to move his wings out of the way.

“I know bird brain, I’m just joking. I love you both,”

“I love you both too,” you say as keigo rinses the shampoo out of your hair and starts to put conditioner in.

You try to reach for his shampoo or rumi’s when they stop you,”these next few days are about you, not us. “Rumi says grabbing your hands and kissing them.

You go to argue but keigo stops you,”no if’s, and’s or buts,” he says as Rumi begins to lather your body up with nice smelling soap.

“What kind of food do you want for later, I know you like miso soup? I picked up some of your favorites from the store?” Rumi asks, as keigo rinses the conditioner out of your hair.

“We can order out, pick up that meal you really like,” keigo adds, kissing your face.

“Order out please?” You ask, leaning your head against Keigo’s chest.

“Anything for you feather,”

Rumi stands up, and gets out first,”wait here, I’m going to get some towels and bathrobes.

Keigo turns you to face him, “how many times have I said that I loved you today?” He asks with a smile on his face.

“At least ten,” you say

“Hmmm, that’s not enough,” he says kissing your nose,”nothing I ever do will be enough to show how much I love you,”

Rumi comes in with a bunch of fluffy towels and bathrobes.

“Come on keigo, don’t hog them, and the water is getting cold,” she says holding out a towel for you. Keigo picks you up and places you in the ground, his hands around your waist, supporting your body weight.

“Do you think you can stand?” He asks.

“I got this ,” you say, as keigo loosens his grip around your waist. Your legs immediately buckle and both keigo and Rumi grab you.

“Okay, maybe I was a bit overconfident,” you say laughing. As Rumi wraps you in a towel.

“You’re gonna give us a heart attack one day.” Keigo says as Rumi carries you in the bedroom, gently tossing you on to the bed.

Keigo is carrying a basket with lotions and leave in products.

They spend the next hour just massaging you, you can barely keep your eyes open by the time they’re done.

By now it’s around 12 pm, you’re dressed, had something to drink, showered and currently you’re bending fed chicken ramen with mushrooms, egg, and lots of veggies, with chicken. Wrapped up in their arms as you listen to the go back and forth, Rumi calling keigo a cannibal when he eats some of the chicken, and keigo telling Rumi that if she keeps thumping her foot on the floor there is gonna be a hole. They love play fighting, and you love watching them playfully banter. Cause at the end of the day, you three are curled up together, underneath a pile of blankets, watching movies together.

pls keigo gets so clingy and baby like after his rut all he wants to do is scoop you up in his wings and make a little nest with you :((( he makes room for rumi too n cuddles his babies into his chest aaaa brings you both shiny gifts because he wants you guys to know how grateful he is and how much he adores you !!! rumi pampering you both and letting you help wash keigo’s big wings and his hair aaa he’s literally you guy’s baby!!

rumi dressing you up in her clothes and spoon feeding you while kei just clings to your side and Does Not Leave im in love <33

#soft hours open #hawks #miruko #💜 anon #you’ve got mail 💌

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rositxespinosa · 4 years ago

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~Mental Health and Hygiene~

Being in quarantine these past few months have taken a toll on my mental health. Often times I find myself feeling tired, sluggish, bored, and unmotivated. This makes it difficult when it comes to taking a shower at the end of the day. I’ve skipped the shower more times than I care to admit, and I’m working on getting back into my normal routine, so that I can feel better.

Multiple social media sites have posts on tips, self-care, etc for when you’re dealing with depression. I was inspired by these posts and have decided that I want to make my own. The purpose of this is to help guide you back into a normal hygiene routine. There’s no judgment here. Helpful comments and tips are welcome to be added, and please never feel embarrassed if you have questions about the things I write in this post. I’m here to help anyone who needs it!

*****

How long has it been since you’ve taken a bath or shower? A day? A few days? Maybe a week or more? That’s okay. Life can be challenging sometimes and cause us to neglect our basic needs. Here’s what you can do to kick start yourself back into keeping up with your hygiene. We have to start somewhere.

Pre-Shower:

1. Brush out your hair and throw it up into a bun or ponytail. Don’t worry if it’s super dirty. Brushing it out will distribute the natural oils in your hair, get rid of excess dead/stray hair, and most importantly make it easier to wash.

2. Apply a face mask. This step is optional. If you don’t have a mask, or simply don’t have the energy for it, skip it! I personally like to do this step because it makes my face feel extra clean, plus it’s fun! You can use any type of mask you want; hydrating, purifying, clearing, etc. This is mainly dependent on what your skin needs. I’ve been using a purifying mask from Neutrogena that has salicylic acid in it, which helps clear up my skin.

3. Hop in the shower! Once your mask has dried, remove your clothes, let down your hair, and hop on in.

In the shower:

1. Rinse your hair and body thoroughly. If you chose to apply a mask, gently massage it off before rinsing off your body and hair with warm water. Warm water is the best option because it will help properly clean you, especially if you have excess sweat, oil, dirt, etc on your skin and hair. Too hot of water is going to dry your skin out, and remove your hair and body’s natural oils, which we need because they protect the hair and skin.

2. Double cleanse your hair. Not everyone may no what double cleansing your hair means, so let me explain. Something I prefer to do when my hair is super oily and dirty is double cleanse it. After it’s wet, I go in with either a detox/clarifying shampoo or Head and Shoulders in the classic scent. This helps remove that first lather of yuck on your scalp. Then I rinse that out and use a tiny amount of conditioner on my hair and rinse it out right away. This helps grab onto shampoo to make sure your getting it out of your hair completely. I learned that from my hairdresser! After the first cleanse, I go in with my normal shampoo. Any kind will do, just use what you like! Sometimes I’ll let the shampoo sit in my hair for a minute or two before I rinse it out so it has a chance to break down any buildup before I rinse it out. Then follow up with conditioner and put your hair up and let it sit. Now I know this seems like a lot, and I won’t lie, it’s going to take extra time. But it really will make a difference in how clean your hair feels when you’re done. I also think this would be a great way to really clean your hair and scalp if you haven’t had a shower in some time. If your hair isn’t as dirty, I suggest shampooing and conditioning like normal. This step may be different for everyone depending on hair type, texture, how oily and dirty it is, etc.

3. Wash your body. Now I have a separate soap for my chest and back, as well as one for my downstairs area, so you can skip whichever parts of this that aren’t necessary for you. If you’re feeling extra dirty, I suggest taking some soap; I’d suggest Dial body wash, men’s body wash (because the scent is strong and can eliminate odor), or even a bar of soap and first cleaning the parts of your body that hold more moisture and odor. Under your arms, underneath your breasts, inner thighs, back of the knees, and feet. Rinse that off and go in and wash your body normally with whatever nice smelling soap you like. Now if you have a vagina, take a clean washcloth, put some soap on there (try to stay away from heavily scented products! An inexpensive wash I’d recommend for down there is Dove sensitive skin body wash or bar soap, or even the plain original Dove.) The main thing I want to say is be gentle! Even if you haven’t showered in a while, don’t go scrubbing your vagina off! That’s going to cause irritation and no one wants that. Rinse the area with warm water first, wash the exterior of the vagina gently with mild soap (don’t go crazy with the soap either, use a good amount but sometimes less is more!) and rinse thoroughly. No need for harsh scrubbing.

4. Rinse with cool water. Your face is clean, your hair and body is clean, so guess what? You’re all done! Rinse out the conditioner in your hair and if you want or have the energy, rinse off with cool water. This not only feels good but can help cool your body down before getting out of the shower, and it makes your hair shiny!

Before I move on to what you can do after the shower, I want to make note of a few things. I purposely left out extra steps like exfoliating, shaving, hair masks, and other pampering tasks because when it comes to dealing with depression, extra things like that aren’t always doable. If you have the extra motivation to do these things, don’t let me stop you! I’m not saying don’t do these steps if you want too, what I am saying is that the steps I listed will be more than enough to make sure you’re clean and smelling good. Keep it simple for a while. When you are in a better place and have a more consistent routine, then add in those extra steps. For now focus on getting in, getting clean, and getting out.

Post-Shower:

Again I want to say if you need to simplify any of the steps, please do. It’s okay if you aren’t able to moisturize your whole body. I get it, it can be hard.

1. Moisture face and body. If its the day time I suggest using a face moisturizer with spf in it, or applying it afterwards if all you have is a plain one. Then take the time to moisturize your body with whatever type of lotion or cream you prefer. I make sure to at the very least moisturize my feet, hands and elbows, chest, sides, and stomach.

2. Cool down before applying deodorant and getting dressed. If not you’ll end up just sweating it off, especially now that it’s summer. Cool down, air your body out, then apply deodorant, let that sink in, and get dressed. I swear there’s nothing better than being clean and putting on a fresh pair of socks and underwear!

3. Spray some perfume or body spray. This is completely optional and you don’t have to do this, but this step makes me feel good personally. If you do choose to do this step, make sure not to overdue it. A few spritz is all you really need.

4. Finish up. The last few things I’ll do is comb out my hair and let it air dry, clean out my ears with q-tips, and lastly hang up my towels.

****

That is it for my routine! I hope this will be helpful for anyone is is currently struggling. Like I mentioned in the beginning of this post, if you have any questions about hygiene or any questions on what I wrote, don’t be scared to come and ask me about it. There’s no judgement here.

-Megan

#depression and self care #depression #self care #depression tips #self care tips #mental health and hygiene #mental health #hygiene #mental health tips #hygiene tips

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thewinchesters-pants · 4 years ago

Text

Swing the Bat Both Ways

Pairings: Dean x F!Reader & F!Reader x Female (eventually)

Warnings: SMUT, oral (female and male receiving), unprotected sex, language, praise kink, bi!reader, more submissive with dean, more dominant with new female

You guys were out celebrating after a successful hunt- Team Free Will and yourself. A coven of vampires were now a coven of dead vampires and adrenaline was still pumping for everyone. You guys were able to get two hotel rooms this time- Sam and Dean in one and you and Cas in the other- so you retreated to your respective rooms to take showers and get cleaned up before you head out to a local bar. Cas was able to blink himself clean so he let you have first dibs at the shower, a fond smile on his face.

“I know you want the hot water, anyways.” He said, handing you a suddenly warm towel and a stack of nice clothes that he thought you might like.

“You’d be right, angel. Thank you.” You leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his cheek before taking the items from him and heading to the bathroom, quietly shutting the door and turning on the water to get warm as you undressed.

Soon enough you were nude and stepping into the steaming tub, pulling the shower curtain shut behind you and stepping under the warm spray of the water. You were humming an old tune as you grabbed the vanilla shampoo and squirted some into your palm before lathering it together and running it through your hair. Sam had convinced you to cut it a couple weeks ago and you still weren't used to your hair not reaching your hips anymore; it now barely reached under your ears, but it was still floppy like you liked it. While that soaked, you grabbed your loofah and covered it in honey-scented body wash and started scrubbing at your filthy skin- leaving it rosy and clean once you were finished. Your legs were already smooth from having shaved the night before so you just took a couple of swipes under your arms with a razor so you were smooth everywhere. Once that was done, you rinsed out the shampoo and slathered in the conditioner, using the time to exfoliate and let the warm spray work out some of the kinks in your muscles. Eventually you were done- soap out of your hair and off of your body- so you turned off the water and stepped out to grab your towel and dry off.

“You hungry?” Cas called through the door, waiting for your reply as you dried off and wrapped the towel in your hair.

“Yeah, I’d just like a sandwich and some grapes though, please.” You called back, pulling the lotion out of your bag and rubbing it into your legs, arms, and torso.

“It’s ready when you are.” He answered a moment later and walked away, letting you have a moment to slide the black panties up your legs and buckle the black push up bra around your chest.

“Thanks, angel!” You called back, sliding your feet through the holes of your hole-ridden skinny jeans and yanking them up your legs to settle at your hips. He had gotten you a matching soft button-up that you left buttoned right below the start of your bra to teasingly show off your cleavage. Dean had gotten you a long necklace with an anti-possession symbol that you could wrap extra, depending on the length that you wanted. You left it sitting right at the top of your chest, two extra loops above it for extra style. Once you were dressed, you collected your dirty clothes and opened the door- revealing the brothers eating their dinners while Cas talked about a possible case in Nevada.

All of their heads turned at the sound you made, but they were all quiet. Sam whistled in approval as Dean choked on his burger, coughing as he tried to swallow and come up with a coherent sentence.

“Do I look okay?” You were suddenly shy, looking down at your outfit with worry before glancing back up at the three of them.

“Sweetheart, you look more than okay.” Dean’s voice was husky and low, eyes trailing down your body like a lover would do with their fingertips.

“You look beautiful.” Sam agreed, eyeing his brother curiously.

“I knew you would like it.” Cas was smiling happily, taking pride in his growing understanding of female attire.

“Give me ten minutes to do my makeup and hair, and I’ll join you for dinner.” They all nodded but Dean didn't look away, watching your hips as you turned around and groaning quietly as the curve of your ass came into full view.

True to your word, ten minutes later you were sitting between the two brothers with your food half-way gone and full-on laughing at something Cas had said. You had done easy makeup- mascara and nude eyeshadow to make your grey eyes brighter- and light hair gel to keep your hair tame as it dried (straight, as always). Sam was finished with his food first, and he went to grab his shoes and wallet from the adjacent room while the rest of you finished eating and cleaned up so you wouldn't have to later. The guys got the rest of their stuff together while you bagged up everyone’s dirty laundry and grabbed your favorite pair of heels from your duffel. Cas disappeared for a couple minutes to clean your clothes and it gave you enough time to grab your jacket and slip on your shoes, yet you were still inches shorter than the guys.

“Ready?” You asked, sliding your arms through the leather jacket and tucking your wallet into the inside pocket.

You got affirmations from everyone so you each grabbed a hotel key before heading out, Sam in front then Cas, you, and finally Dean. He made sure the doors were locked and that the salt lines were secure before turning and following after you guys. You felt a hand at your arm so you turned around, curious as to what Dean wanted.

“What’s up?” You asked him, watching the other two disappear down the stairs.

“You look amazing, sweetheart. I’d like to… steal you away for a while, later tonight. Does that sound good?” His emerald eyes had darkened considerably at the idea of seeing you out of that amazing outfit, but he would always give you the option.

This set-up wasnt new to the two of you, ever since you moved in with the Winchesters’, you and Dean had an agreement to fool around if neither wanted a stranger in their bed for the night. It had saved you many countless attempts with terrible hook-ups and it always made you both feel better in the morning because you were waking up next to someone that cared for you.

“That sounds good, De.” You smiled cheekily, confidence having boosted ten notches knowing that the older brother wanted you in this outfit.

“Perfect.” He leaned forward, giving you time to back away, before cupping your cheek in his hand and pressing a searing kiss to your lips as a promise for later.

~~~~~~~~

Music was blaring from the building as you showed the bouncer your IDs, flashing him a smile and a wink when he had to double-check your license. You were legal and beautiful and that’s all that mattered, especially when it meant cutting line to get in somewhere. He handed them back and let the four of you inside, shooting you a wink as you passed. You dipped your head in acknowledgement as you headed inside, letting the smell of alcohol and sweat and sexual tension settle into your bones. Your hips started to sway of their own accord, the beat of the music flowing through you and pumping up your adrenaline again, but in a new way.

“To the bar and then find a table?” You asked, pulling ahead to look at them.

“Sounds good, we’ll get the drinks if you guys want to find us a table?” Dean said, hoping they’ll take the hint and disappear.

“Call if you can’t find us.” The place was packed so that was a good possibility, and you nodded.

The other two disappeared, leaving you and Dean to weave through the people and make it to the bar. He grabbed your hips as you walked, thumbs sliding under the bottom of your shirt to brush teasingly against your soft skin. You let out a sigh but didn't falter, taking the lead and managing to get you both to the bar with ease.

“What can I get you, doll?” The bartender called over the loud music, her hair in loose braids and glasses tipped low on her nose.

“Four shots of tequila and four beers.” You called back, flashing her a smile as she took your order and your card for the tab.

“Be right back.” You could see a flush cover her skin as she turned, heading to grab your drinks and open a tab in the last name “Winchester.”

Dean had pressed up behind you and you wiggled your hips teasingly, basking in the groan he let out and the grip that tightened at your hips. He pressed closer, letting the curve of his hardening cock nestle into the swell of your ass.

“Better stop that, sweetheart.” He whispered in your ear, nipping gently at the lobe and grinding once and then twice.

“Here you go, darlin’.” The bartender was back in an instant, drinks on a tray and salt and limes in a bowl.

“Thank you!” You called, grinning wide as you took the tray from her, fingers brushing against skin softer than your own. You saw her eyes fall to your lips and then even lower to your barely open top before shooting back to your eyes, a blush evident on her cheeks again.

“It looks like someone has a thing for you, baby.” Dean chuckled, taking the tray and leading this time as you followed, turning around once to see the bartending still watching you.

“She’s cute.” You replied, a knot forming in your lower abdomen as you thought about testing out the waters to see if he was being honest.

“We can fool around in the bathroom and then you can have her, I think I found my own prospect for the night.” This was common, too- you and Dean messing around as foreplay and then going after your prospective women for the main course.

“That sounds amazing.” You turned around again, biting your lip as you saw the bartender still watching with a soft smile on her lips.

“I’ll take these to the guys and I’ll meet you back there.” You nodded, turning on your heel and heading towards the bathroom at the opposite end of the loud bar. On the way, the cute bartender flagged you over to the end, and you obliged, eager to see if she was interested.

“I’m out of here at midnight, doll.” She whispered in your ear, pressing a quick kiss to your neck before pulling away with a wink and a bright grin.

“I’ll be here at 11:59 then.” you replied, running a hand through your hair as the nerves running through your body picked up considerably.

Being with girls wasn’t new- frankly you favored it over most men- but she was beyond beautiful and just your type. You ducked into the bathroom, locking it and waiting impatiently for the three knocks that meant Dean was on the other side of the door. He sounded off two minutes later and you quickly unlocked it before yanking him inside and shutting the door again.

He was laughing as you pressed him against the wood, arms snaking around his neck as he took the lead and flipped you guys so it was your back pressed against the door and his thigh pressed between your legs.

“You were right, De. She’s off at midnight.” You groaned, rocking wantonly against his thigh as he pressed bruising kisses to your lips and jaw. His hands were wondering all over your body- fingers undoing to the buttons to your shirt and sliding it off your shoulders so he could pepper your sensitive skin with licks and sloppy kisses as your own hands dug into his shoulders and raked down his back hard enough to only leave light red marks. You knew most girls didn’t like knowing that the man they were fucking had just been with another woman, so you took it easy.

“I’m gonna eat you out, princess, and then you’re going to get on your knees and take me down your throat and then we’ll get back, okay? I know you want to leave the rest for that bartender.” He was gasping and growling, fingers moving from your tits to the waistband of your skintight jeans to undo the button and yank them down to your knees.

“You would be right.” You whimpered, laughing quietly as he pulled you from the door and bent you over the sink so he could get behind you and press kisses to your back and thighs and squeeze at your ass cheeks. He always was an ass man with you, if that wasn't already obvious.

“God, it’s so damn hot thinking about you eating out another woman. Having her begging for your tongue, fingers tangled in your hair, knees holding your head and heels digging into your back as you fuck her with your mouth.” His words were sinful as he yanked your lacy panties down to meet your jeans and pulled you back to his mouth to do the exact thing to you that he was just talking about.

His favorite thing to do when you were rushed was eat you out from the back, one hand snaking around your thighs to rub circles into your clit as he buried his tongue deep inside you. Your legs buckled and head fell forward as you rode his mouth, fingers clenching at the marble of the sink as you fought your orgasm to make it last as long as possible. His hands grabbed both hips then, urging your movements as he moaned intentionally to stoke the fire in your belly.

“You’re gonna make her cum for you just like I’m about to make you do for me.” He promised, knowing the signs of your impending release like being able to read the time on a clock.

“Oh, I’m gonna do more than that.” My tone was weak though, hips rocking even faster against his tongue as my climax was peaking without me being able to stop it.

“God, De, I’m about to cum.” you said the same words over and over, body convulsing as the nerves rushed through your body and you came faster than you ever have before.

He swallowed down everything you gave him, tongue stoking the fire until you were pulling away from too much stimulation and turning to fall to your knees so you could suck him off. He didnt stop you; rather, he grabbed at the sink as you unbuttoned his jeans and yanked his own jeans down, his hard cock slapping against his stomach and leaking a steady stream of precum down the impressive length.

“Such a pretty cock, Dean Winchester.” You knew it did things to him when you used his full name and you saved it for times like these.

The resounding groan and “fuck, baby” settled into your bones as you began to stroke him with a turn of your fist at the top of every upstroke. This lasted for only four strokes before he fisted your hair and you opened your mouth- tongue out- to take him into your mouth and down your throat. You had no gag reflex, which he loved, so you let him fuck your mouth for a couple moments before taking back over. You batted his hand away and resumed your own pace, tongue tracing along the sensitive skin on the underside of his cock and paying special attention to the head and all of the nerves that surrounded it.

“God, you’re so good with your mouth. No wonder it always gets you in trouble.” He chuckled but it caught on a moan and a shiver as you bottomed out on his dick, balls brushing your chin as you tongued every inch of him before pulling off with a tight ‘pop’ and giving a quick lick across the top to tease him.

“You love it.” You snarked, bottoming out again and breathing through your nose as you got him off like this. His hips snapped forward on every pull, constant moans and curses leaving as he teetered on the edge of his own orgasm. Dean nodded eagerly as it only took two more licks and one final suck to have him coming thick ropes of cum down your throat. He had to cover his mouth to cover the loud noises he always made, but you loved them just the same as you let him finish and then pulled off gently to help him clean up and then clean yourself. He was panting as he helped you to your feet and held you steady as you tugged your panties and jeans back up to rest on your hips once more.

“I always love it.” He was laughing, using one hand to tip your chin up so he could press a quick kiss to your lips before pulling away.

“Let’s get cleaned up and go meet the guys. You’ve got a date to catch.” You smiled wide, eager for it to get started, as you both became presentable once more and went to the Team Free Will table.

Reblog, comment, and let me know if you guys want to see her with the bartender! Please no copying of my work on different sites, this is original work!

Much love xx

#dean winchester #winchesters #the winchesters #bi!reader #OC #supernatural #supernaturalsmut #Team Free Will #SPN #SPN Family #SPN FANDOM #no spoilers #Jensen Ackles #SMUT FIC #oc smut #smut oneshot #lgbt read #castiel #sam and dean

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mcwriting · 5 years ago

Text

starstruck (4)

Here it is... finally! It’s ~angsty~ but it was really fun to write.

I will say, I realized while writing this that the timeline of this fic is sooooo short but hey, its fiction, so I guess anything can happen lol. I tried to resolve it in later chapters but it’s definitely quick moving in these initial chapters.

There’s a lot of italics in this one lol

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Fandom: Thomas Stanley Holland

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader (eventual)

Setting: LA in general

Word Count: 2240 yeet

Warnings: angst, some mild language

Rating: still k+ right now

Last time on starstruck...

“Hey what’s going on? Uh huh. No, we actually have it handled. I might or might not be with her right now… no it’s fine. Seriously, we are laying low! We’re on the way to the hotel right now. Alright, alright I’ll see what I can do. See you in a few.”

And with that, he hung up, turned to you, and said, “That was my manager. Apparently we’ve got a problem.”

__________________________________

You pulled underneath the awning of the posh hotel Tom was boarding at, the kind of place you only dreamed of staying.

Sure, your family wasn’t poor, but your parents definitely weren’t the type of people to spend a lot of money on hotels. They claimed to enjoy spending more money on the “fun” parts of vacations than where you slept at night.

To each their own, you supposed.

Tom wanted you to come inside, per request of his manager, so you figured you would drop him off and park so you wouldn’t be seen together.

The valet had other plans, however, pulling you out of the car and exchanging your keys with a numbered slip of paper.

It all happened so fast that for a moment you just stood there, stunned. You snapped out of it when the man began to drive off and Tom grabbed you to lead you inside.

The lobby was massive and covered with marble flooring. A large, plush rug covered many of the tiles and on top of it sat some luxurious couches and armchairs, framing a huge TV on the wall.

On the other side was a long marble counter that seated hotel staff, who stood at the ready upon seeing Tom.

You also couldn’t help but note the smell, a light, sweet floral scent wafting through the air pleasantly.

This must be rich people scent you thought to yourself.

Due to the nature of it being midday, very few people were seen in the lobby, and Tom led you straight through to a hallway and past the main elevators, his hand resting on your lower back the entire time.

“I have access to a service lift so less people will see,” he explained, as if he’d just read your confused mind.

You walked briskly with Tom through the winding hall, finally ending up at the alternate elevator, where he swiped his key card and the doors slid open with a few creaks.

You tapped your foot nervously as you passed floor by floor, letting go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding upon reaching the top.

Once again, you followed behind Tom through the hall and to his room. You stood awkwardly in the doorway, clenching onto the straps of your beach bag, as he entered to find more suitable clothing.

After disappearing for a moment, he popped his head back out.

“You can come in, you know. This might take a few minutes.”

You stepped further into his suite, making your way to the sliding doors attached to a balcony. Looking out you could see Los Angeles in full light, the people and cars below feeling so out of reach, like nothing you had ever experienced in your city.

You seemed so out of place in the heavily decorated room still in beach clothing and legs covered in sand.

You could hear Tom rummaging through the drawers and walked over, giving a gentle knock on the open door.

“Having trouble, twinkle toes?” you joked at the way he pillaged through his clothes. He smiled at your commentary.

“Maybe a bit. Do you need anything? A drink, snack? The fridge is stocked so take anything you like.”

You were surprised at his generosity and at how little he cared about paying for that stuff. In your family, everything in the hotel room was off limits if it wasn’t free.

“I think I’m good but do you mind if I use your restroom? I really need to rinse this sand off and put on some real clothes.”

“Go right ahead,” he gestured to the bathroom door.

The bathroom was also massive, especially for a hotel. The shower thankfully had a handheld spray head so you were able to just target and rinse your legs. You tugged on some athletic shorts and a loose tank top to replace your former garments.

You quickly used the toilet too and went to wash your hands, not believing how many fancy soaps and lotions covered the counter.

As you lathered, a small bottle caught the corner of your eye. It was a light yellowish color and read “OBSESSION for men.”

Of course he would wear Calvin Klein cologne. Now I know.

You finished up and made a final once over in the mirror, fixing some stray hairs in your ponytail and opening up the door.

You stopped in your tracks as your eyes laid upon Tom, who was shirtless with his back to you, the elastic of his underwear poking out of his pants’ waistline.

“You’re a pretty big fan of Calvin Klein, huh?” you asked, referring to both the cologne and his boxers. He turned around, giving you a view of his bare chest, which didn’t disappoint, a fact that you pretended was annoying.

“Hah, yeah. I really want to do an ad campaign with them if you couldn’t tell,” he bent over to pick up a shirt from the bed and toss it on.

“Well with the cologne and underwear you’re pretty much a walking billboard.”

“You like the cologne?” he asked, causing your face to heat up. You knew a blush was present and probably obvious, so you decided not to lie.

“Yeah, actually I do. It’s a nice scent. It also happens to be all over my bed right now thanks to a certain someone,” you tipped down your chin and raised an eyebrow accusingly.

“You want it? The company actually sent me like… eight bottles and a bunch of clothes not too long ago after I posted on Instagram about them. I can’t get rid of them fast enough,” he offered, walking towards you.

“What? No! I couldn’t just take that from you. What would I tell my friends when they see men’s cologne bottle in my room? I can’t say ‘oh yeah Tom Holland gave it to me’ and it would be majorly out of character to tell everyone that it’s what you wear.”

He went past you into the bathroom and rummaged through a toiletry bag, muttering an “aha!” when he pulled out another bottle identical to the one on the counter, except this was sealed and full.

“Seriously Tom I can’t just tak-” you started when he dropped the bottle into your bag.

“Whoops,” he quipped, “no take backs. Now your bed can forever smell like me”

You were ready to argue again (with an undeniable smile on your face) when there was a loud rapping on the main door.

Tom grimaced at you to wordlessly send a message of ‘prepare yourself’ as he took a deep breath in and headed out of his bedroom. You silently followed into the living room and watched Tom open the door, where a well dressed man and woman pair stood talking.

__________________________________

At first you and Tom together discussed the plan you had made at the beach with his manager and publicist, neither of whom seemed to like the idea very much.

They asked to speak with Tom privately, so you relocated back into the bedroom and sat on the side of his bed, reminiscing on how the roles were almost reversed compared to only two evenings prior.

You were only in there for about ten minutes, but it seemed like hours. You were too anxious to mess with your phone and instead looked out his window.

There was a quiet knock on the door before Tom opened it. You recognized the steely look in his eyes and the way his jaw was clenched.

He motioned for you to come out, and almost immediately after stepping into the living room his manager started talking to you.

“So, y/n, right? I’m gonna have to give this to you straight. You cannot be seen with my client ever again,” she stated bluntly, “it’s nothing against you, of course, but Tom here needs to maintain a ‘single’ rep until this movie is no longer in theatres and frankly you’re jeopardizing the whole thing.”

Your eyebrows shot up and you weren’t happy to hear this woman’s feigned criticisms.

“I’m sorry, but Tom is the one who sought me out. I never liked him, you could ask any person who knows me and they would tell you the same. I’m only here because Tom asked me to meet him about getting rid of this whole ‘scandal’ or whatever you want to call it. So if anyone is jeopardizing Tom, it’s himself.”

The publicist took a step forward.

“Look, miss y/n, it’s really nothing against you, we just want to maintain his image, and the best way to do so would be for us to go online and tell everyone he helped you get medical attention for an injury, which we all know is true, and end it at that. It makes Tom look like a hero, and you’ll be popular for weeks with your peers I’m sure,” he explained, angering you further.

“I never asked for this. I don’t want attention. I don’t want the world, or more importantly my best friend, to find out I’ve been lying about the guy I used to hate. Do you realize how many rumors this will fuel? This is ridiculous and I can’t allow you to put out my information like this.”

“Oh, well. Too bad. I just sent the tip to TMZ and they’re posting the story tonight,” he replied, “and Tom is going live on Instagram at 4:00 to address it the way we told him to and you two can’t be seen together again. Text all you want like you have been, but no public contact. Unless of course we want to do a ‘girl saved by hero reunites with him’ thing. Oh man would that look so good-”

“I’m done. This is so sick. Tom,” you looked directly into his eyes, “never contact me again, you disgusting cheap sellout bastard,” you spat, a fire in your own eyes like nothing anyone had ever seen from you.

“Y/n I-“ he began, but you were already heading to the door. You could hear footsteps behind you and the door slam shut but you kept power walking towards the main elevators, hoping they were the opposite direction from which you and Tom initially came.

“Wait!” he cried out, finally catching up and grabbing your elbow.

You threw his hand off but stopped moving forward and instead spun around to face him. Tears had made their way down your cheeks by now and you weren’t any happier to be so vulnerable in front of Tom.

Never in your life did or expect the next (or even last) guy you’d cry over would be Tom Holland.

“Y/n, please listen,” he pleaded, his face was also red, as if he were going to cry himself. You stood firm and gave him an expectant glare, so he continued.

“I don’t want to do this, I really don’t. Please understand that I have to, though, no matter how much this hurts. We can still talk. I was so drawn to you the second I saw you in that crowd just last week and I could’ve never imagined how close you could become in the short amount of time we’ve known each other. Please, babe, I don’t want to lose you.”

Anger flashed inside of you again and you felt your chest tighten at the bomb he’d just dropped..

“Do you really, Tom? Do you really care? Because to me it sounds like you actually have a choice here, but you’re too much of a pushover to do what’s right. If you really cared, you wouldn’t do this to me. I was serious back there. Don’t talk to me again, and definitely don’t call me babe if you do.”

“I’m so, so sorry, y/n,” Tom’s voice finally broke, and you could see the way his lip quivered as he continued, “I’m sorry I ever got you into this mess.”

“Me too,” you whispered.

You wiped more stray tears and turned, looking back one last time into the face of the broken-hearted celebrity, hoping it was the last time you would ever see his face, but knowing it wouldn’t be the end of it.

__________________________________

You exited the elevator, which you were glad was empty. More tears had fallen on the journey down and you mustered up everything you could to stop them, at least until you were off the premises of the hotel.

Though knowing you looked like a wreck, you walked through the hotel lobby with head held high, looking straight forward at the large front doors.

Your numbered ticket was in hand and you gladly gave it to the valet so he could pull up your car.

It was getting harder to hold it together as you waited. Finally, he appeared and parked the car in front of you.

He held out the keys and then stood directly in front of you, silently pleading for a tip, even though he could probably see the obvious anguish on your face.

Finally, you gave in, rolling your eyes as you dug through your bag for a spare $5 bill and slapped it into his hand with disdain.

“How kind. Have a nice day, ma’am!” he voiced cheerily.

You fought the urge to flip him off as you sat down in the driver’s seat and began the journey back home, dread filling your stomach the closer home became.

__________________________________

A/N: yeehaw that was a fun time. Next chapter is angsty too sorry I don’t make the rules... :)

Tag List: @marvel-lously, @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl

#starstruck #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland dancing #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #spider-man #spiderman #spider man #Spider Man: Homecoming #tom holland spider man #SPIDER MAN: FAR FROM HOME #SPIDER MAN FAR FROM HOME #sm:ffh #MARVEL FANDOM #marvel

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justoneday-namjoonii · 6 years ago

Text

jk!mafia concept | IBDI teaser

⇁ [mafia Jungkook concept]: Imagine this—things got bad, really bad. But within the chaos, you find each other. But everything is different again. He’s more possessive now, if that’s even possible—and you’re trying to make yourself think this is a normal, healthy relationship. But he holds on to you so so tight, no wonder you can still breathe. But you like it, don’t you?

You scoop the basmati rice on your plate, laying it beside your chicken and green beans. You decided to give cooking a chance for tonight and Jungkook seemed to be pretty excited about it.

He pauses, brows furrowing up like an upset child. He stares at your plate for a moment, not allowing you to walk any further with him in your way.

You frown due to his sudden invasion of your personal space. “What’re you doing?-...“

He suddenly reaches back to grab the ladle that was once in your hand and scoops more rice on your plate.

“Hey,” You gripped his wrist lightly, not that physically stopping him would work but it would stall him. “I don’t want that much…”

“You need to eat more than that.” despite your distaste, he continued to give you extra of whatever he could grab. You thought about firing back a comment but arguing with him is pointless, you’d only end up working yourself up.

So you go to the dining room table with a plate that will take you roughly 3 days to finish and wait for Jungkook. This is the first time you two were able to eat at a table like this. You’d normally eat in the room on the floor or in bed, in fear of the people swarming the building 24-7. This safehouse is nice, pretty big with comfy beds and sweet smelling sheets.

When he finally comes to the table, he has two cups of juice in his hand. He places one in front of you and the other on his placemat.

“Jungkook,” He perks up to the whine in your voice, “I can’t eat this much…“

He simply looked at you, as if he were telling you to just eat it. When you pick up your fork with a piece of chicken on it, he sits down as if he accomplished something big.

“I didn’t know you could cook.” He eats a spoon full of rice, eyes lighting up. “It’s really good, I haven’t eaten this well in forever.”

“Thanks…My aunt taught me.” You push one of the vegetables around with the fork.

“It’s delicious, babe.” He smiled. His words of praise made you feel a tinge of proudness. There’s not a lot you can do around here, so if you can at least make a decent meal, you’re doing something helpful.

Ever since you two got back together, he had this obsession with being there whenever you ate, and he made sure you ate as much as possible. It was irritating sometimes but you knew it was only out of love. For a while, you had developed an abnormal eating pattern. It had a lot to do with the Tae incident, getting sick, and just generally losing your appetite.

The first morning you spent together, he made you a huge breakfast. The eggs were a little overdone but it’s the thought that counts. After a few minutes, you set your fork down. The food was great but you knew you’d vomit if you eat anymore. You got up to take your plate and Jungkook shot up instantly.

“I’ll get it,” He took the plate from you, “you cooked, it’s the least I can do.” He smiles, beaming at your blush when he kisses your temple. When you went to sit at the barstool, Jungkook had pulled up his sleeves and starting washing up the dishes. He looked so domestic like this, when he’d make the bed or fold his clothes, it made you feel like your relationship really wasn’t that odd.

His dark hair bounced against his forehead the more vigorously he scrubbed. The veins lining his forearm bulged slightly, that sight always made you giddy. Sometimes, he’d wrap his arms around you and spin you around, smiling when you’d tell him to put you down.

“Where are we sleeping tonight?…”

“We’ll have to bunk with Hyung. Someone else is in the room we would be in so he’s letting us stay with him again. That doesn’t bother you, does it?”

“No, I was just wondering.” Staying in close quarters with Namjoon is surprisingly painless.

He doesn’t really bother you two. Though Jungkook insisted that you two could squeeze into the twin in the corner, he gave up the full-size bed anyway. Things like that made you remember why Jungkook is so sold out for him, they’re family. And if any of these boys are in pain, they’re there for one another. Even a gesture as simple as sacrificing the bigger bed is actually a huge sign of his love for Jungkook.

When he finished up, you two walked back to the bedroom. It was the closest room to the kitchen luckily. You hadn’t showered or washed up for bed yet so that’s what you were about to do. There were plenty of toiletries, soaps, and necessities to go around so all you needed were some clothes. When you asked Namjoon for some extra clothes, he handed you a bag of spares accumulated for the girls who needed clothes after incidents. You were lucky enough to find your size in some soft pajama pants and a plain T-shirt.

You grabbed that little ensemble and began to make your way to the bathroom, but Jungkook was behind you. You pause. “Um, I’m gonna go shower.”

“Ok, we can shower together, that’s my favorite pastime.” He simpers. He doesn’t quite understand where you’re going with this.

“I-…” You hesitate. “I’m actually just gonna shower by myself tonight…” You mutter that out with a fear tugging at your chest when his eyebrows lowered. Jungkook has been getting pretty high-strung lately. He’s practically glued himself to you, making sure everyone knew that wherever you were, he would be right there beside you.

“By yourself?” He furrows his brow as if what you were saying was pure gibberish. You nod, and to avoid the argument, you close the bathroom door and he’s left standing there, offended. The night you got back together, you showered together for the first time, and he felt like you two got a little closer in your relationship.

He can’t help but take personal offense to your rejection. He’s just starting to get in the swing of things with you, it’s all going back to the way things should be. So there’s not a moment that goes by that he doesn’t want to be around you. Too many things could happen behind closed doors. You could get hurt, hurt yourself, anything. If he’s there, he’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.

Jungkook stepped out of the room to get distracted for a while. The safe house was fairly the biggest one in the countryside, so there were a lot of people and a lot of places. He knows Yoongi’s here and it’s taken everything in him not to go and give him a piece of his mind. Yoongi used you for a means of trade. He disregarded your life, your dreams, and your goals and completely flipped your life upside down. Then, tried to act like he was saving you from Jungkook for your brother’s sake. Jungkook has good reason to be pretty pissed off about that.

“Jeon-sshi.” Some kid walked up to him, a nervous waver in his voice. Jungkook gives him a look of acknowledgment. “Do you know where Y/n is by any chance?”

He crooked a brow. “I always know where she is.” That shouldn’t surprise anyone. “Who wants to know?”

“Min.” He swallows nervously at Jungkook’s intense stare. “He’s asking for her.”

Yoongi is asking for you?

“What does he want?” Jungkook could feel his temperature rise and his blood begin to simmer at the mention of Yoongi having remotely anything to do with you.

“He didn’t say, I think he just wanted to talk…”

He grit teeth, trying to keep his composure. “Well, tell him I said to fuck off.”

With that, Jungkook retreated back to the bedroom where you were still showering. The door was unlocked so he took the liberty to just walk right in. You jumped when the door slammed shut. You heard a huff and steady pacing.

“Jungkook?” You sheepishly pipe up to confirm that it was him invading your personal time, not someone else.

“Yeah.” You know that tone anywhere, that’s his upset tone. You peek out from behind the shower curtain to see him biting at his cheek with tightly crossed arms.

“Is everything okay?…” He smacks his teeth in response. “Guess not…” You go back to bathing, he’ll talk to you when he’s ready.

You swore you could feel the frustration radiating off of him. Jungkook’s attitude greatly affected those around him, you more so than anyone.

You flinch when the curtain opens and he barges into the shower in all of his glory. If there’s one thing that’s true about Jungkook, it’s that he often oversteps any boundary that would omit the proximity between you two. He gets under the shower head to wet his hair as he continuously pushes it back from his forehead and he bumps you back a bit without realizing it.

“Yoongi was asking for you.” He finally confesses, a biting undertone in his voice as he lathers up his washcloth.

“Oh,” You glanced up at him, before stepping out of the back side of the shower, “really? Why?…”

“I don’t know. But he’s fucking delusional if he thinks after all the shit he’s done that you’ll talk to him.” You dry yourself off and slip on your undergarments. You set the towel down and gently lather on a body lotion.

“But what if he wanted to talk to me about my brother? Or I don’t know, something like that…” You look up in the mirror as he gets out of the shower with a blush on his cheeks from the heat. He wraps a towel around his waist and dries his hair off with a hand towel. He doesn’t bother drying off too much and just slips his sweats on, you always find that funny;

“That’s not happening.”

You roll your eyes, slipping on the pajama pants and then the t-shirt. “It could be important…”

He suddenly wraps his arms around your waist, clutching you tightly from behind when you tried to turn to him.

“Jungkook…” You sigh, and he knows what you mean by the whine of his name but he doesn’t budge.

You squealed when he turned you around, lifted you up, and sat you on the edge counter. “No,” He pecked your lips briefly and then gave you a stern look. “I don’t want you anywhere near him. Do you hear me?” You shyly look up to meet his leering gaze.

“You promise me?”

“Mhm…” You hesitated on your answer and by the furrow in his brows, he noticed. He leans closer and kisses you, so suddenly that you kind of giggle against his lips. His hands are all over you and you know he’s trying to strip you of your pajamas. His hands slip under your shirt and you feel the pads of his fingers dig into your skin.

“I have to watch out for you these days, you’re a lot more rebellious now, you kinda just do what you wanna do.” He let out a faint laugh after the last few words. “It’s fucking cute though, it makes me want to make you behave, get you to be a good girl for me.” You both laugh because you both know that behaving hasn’t really been your thing lately.

The worst part is, he’s right. Sometimes, just doing what you please despite his wishes was refreshing, it gave you a little freedom. Though, when he catches you he gets pretty fussy, it makes for an entertaining situation.

“And you better not be lying to me,” He rubs your thighs as he leans in to kiss you. Moments like this remind you of the reality of your relationship, the feelings that you two have for each other are so raw.

You pull away, obviously offended. “I don’t lie.”

“You don’t lie...” He repeats you in a teasing tone, laughing at your little front. He pulls you closer to the edge, closer to him. He dips down to nuzzle his nose against your face, and then down to your jaw and finally your neck. His hands are so warm, you almost forgot the effect they had on you.

“Then where were you last night?” He asked suddenly, hands still very tight on your hips.

“In bed with you...” You weren’t sure why he asked you that. “Why?-”

“Are you sure? Because I woke up around 3 and you weren’t there.”

You freeze, unsure of what he wanted to hear until it occurred to you – Namjoon pulled you aside to talk late last night, he didn’t want Jungkook to know.

“I- I...um...” He cuts off your stuttering.

“I went to look for you,” Your stomach began to turn and it was hard to look at him all of a sudden, “and you were sneaking around. I saw you coming back to the room and I pretended like I was sleeping. I was gonna get up and talk to you but I just grabbed you and my baby girl fell right asleep before I could say anything.” He laughs at the way he said that. “Is there something you want to tell me, baby?”

You start to panic.

“Jungkook...” You whine but he pulls away from you, he’s never done that before.

“Who were you with?”

You carefully slide off of the counter with your head hung low. Stop panicking, he can tell when you’re panicking.

“Why are you panicking?” He rubs a finger under your chin. “It’s ok, baby, I trust you. Just tell me the truth.” He’s grinning, he’s grinning and you’re shaking.

Shit.

“I can’t tell you who I was with,” You bite your lip, “he asked me not to...”

“He?” He changed his persona in a split second and he took a step back. You should have said they, or the person, anything but he. “Who the fuck is ‘he?’“ He says it mockingly and you want to go hide at the way he’s looking at you.

“This guy is dragging you off in the middle of the night and telling you not to tell me about it. Whatever you do, wherever you go, I find out, I always do. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you leaving in the middle of the night? Come here,” He grabs your arm and pulls you into the bedroom – and for some reason, you pull against him, you never do that. For maybe 30 seconds, you two are just staring at each other and he decides to reduce a bit of the distance.

“I would ask if you were cheating on me but you’re not stupid, you wouldn’t do something that would get someone killed.” Because in fact, you cheating on Jungkook would indefinitely lead to someone getting hurt. He furrows his brows when you neglect to refute the notion of cheating. He lets out an eerie laugh, one that meant he was losing it a little. “Fuck-...Are you?”

He’s angry. Ever since you got back together you noticed his temper was as short as ever – he was so stressed these days. And what if he took it out on you? You did the same thing to him and everyone seemed to notice.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You don’t look up. “Are you seeing someone else?!” He raised his voice and you flinched when he got more in your face.

“N-no I-” You tried to explain yourself but he cut you off, voice booming in the small room.

“No?! Then what the hell is it?! It’s gotta be something. I told you on the first night we back together that in this fucking business you’ll never find a guy who cares about you like me. You shouldn’t want to leave me, I can give you anything you need or want.” He starts to pace, making you more anxious.

“I went too fucking long without you, I started to go crazy.“ He looks you straight in the eyes, not even blinking. “I even tried coke again, but it fucked me up and Tae had to do some weird shit to bring me back.”

He hadn’t told you that.

“You-...You did cocaine?-”

“Y/n, when I’m stressed, I want you and when you’re not there, I don’t know what to fucking do so coke was my best bet at the time. Don’t you get it? Do you not understand how much control you have over me? Huh?”

You were unsure of how to answer because you had never thought of that. And you were also getting upset too because he did cocaine, satan’s sugar essentially.

“Wait, why are you acting like this?...” You frown, feeling small compared to the way he’s towering over you. “I-...I was with Namjoon, he was talking to me about my brother and you, that’s all.”

He lets out a sigh of relief, and guilt swarms in his chest for coming down so hard on you. Before you know it he’s kissing you and you feel like you’re going to cry. “I’m so sorry,” He says muffled against your lips. “I just get worried- I’m sorry, I’m sorry baby,” He holds your face and stumbles forward so that you land back first on the bed.

“Y- you,” You pull away, which only compels him to kiss your neck, “Jungkook, look at me.” You cup his jaw to lead his eyes to yours. “Listen...Don’t ever accuse me like that, ever. I love you so much, more than any man I’ve ever known and I’ll be damned if you think I’d ever cheat on you...You say you trust me but you get so jealous and I understand...but don’t react like this, it makes me upset.”

He looks at you with those pretty doe eyes and it takes him a second, but he nods. “I’m sorry...”

Now that he understands, you bring his lips back to yours as somewhat of a reward. He kisses you slower, softer, apologetically. He switches out a lot like this, one minute he’s having an existential crisis and blowing up, the next he’s cuddling you like a puppy—he’s a boy of many contradictions. He scoots you up so that you’re somewhat touching the headboard. Jungkook is panting softly along with you, looking you over because God, you were so beautiful. It was cold in here too, and you were anxious so you were shaking.

“Y/n...you’re shaking, calm down, you gotta calm down a bit.” He breathes against you, kissing you gently. He continues with the gentle kisses, knowing how easily overwhelmed you get. You mutter something, a whine or something like that but he doesn’t hear it.

“Just calm down, I love you. I love you so fucking much, you have to know that,” He shoves his tongue into your mouth, eliciting whimpers from you as you felt dizzy. “I love you, I love you.”

He said that a thousand times that night, and you felt it all over.

#jungkook #jungkook mafia #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts mafia #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #I got u #happy bday to me

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professional-benaddict · 6 years ago

Note

forced nsfw ddlb with starkerstrange?

Im not a huge fan of forced sexual activities in ddlb, so it will all be consensual but I hope you like this nonetheless anon💕💕 ((and I apologise for being so slow with posting this ssksk im still slow and unproductive bc of the flu))

Daddies and husbands Tony and Stephen, 18+ Peter, ageplay, shower sex, anal fingering, handjob, fluff

————

”Peter! Stop that immediately. The water belongs in the pool.” Stephen reminded the boy for the third time, so now his tone was growing more stern than sweet when he had first told the boy off.

The little family of three were spending the warm summer afternoon by their pool, lounging in the warmth of the sun and the coolness of the pool for over three hours now. Stephen and Tony were laying on sun chairs, tired after work and dozing off a little, while Peter was swimming in the large pool. The little boy had done a considerable amount of laps, but he was full of energy as he played with his water toys. It was like his skin was a sun panel and the more time he spent in the sunshine, the more he buzzed around like an excited bee.

”I’m just watering the grass, Daddy!” Peter tried to make excuses, putting on an innocent face as the water droplets ran down his nose and the sides of his face.

”The chlorine isn’t good for the plants, baby.” Tony argued, sitting up on the sun chair and making his way over to the pool side, gesturing for the boy to come over. ”Let me see your hand.”

With a little huff, Peter swam the little distance between himself and the edge of the pool, extending his hand for his Papa to see. He knew his fingers looked like raisins, the skin shrunken and wrinkled from the time spent in the water. It meant that play time in the pool was over and reluctantly, Peter got out like his Papa requested. At least the towel that Daddy wrapped him in was nice and fluffy.

“You go right ahead and shower, baby. We’ll be up in a minute.“ Stephen assured and gave the boy a kiss on his wet forehead before ushering him inside. While Peter padded inside, Stephen and Tony cleaned up by the pool side, bringing the dishes and such inside along with gathering up Peter’s water toys to let them dry.

Meanwhile, Peter stood in the large marble walk in shower in the bathroom by the master bedroom, staring at his erect cock and pondering what to do. He had felt funny all afternoon, but couldn’t quite figure it out and tell his Daddies about it. It was a tingly sensation, a heat in his lower stomach that grew hotter every time his groin had rubbed against his inflatable water toys as he straddled them. Peter knew his Daddies would help him out with anything and everything, but what about something that he couldn’t explain? Could Daddy and Papa fix something he can’t explain? And after being told off my the pool, Peter was even more reluctant to tell them, fearing that he would be scolded at again, maybe even punished.

Peter was so transfixed with his red and erect length poking at his stomach that he didn’t register Stephen and Tony when they also entered the bathroom, chatting fondly about their day as they removed their swimming shorts. It wasn’t until one of them spoke louder that Peter snapped his head up from his cock.

Peter’s Daddies were so handsome and the boy suddenly felt his cock growing harder and hotter as he looked at the older men in front of him. They were both naked and stood in all their muscular and handsome glory, a soft smile on their tanned faces. Even when Peter’s cock was fully erect and swollen, he was still smaller than both his Daddies limp cocks.

”You all right, handsome?” Tony asked, his brows knit together in a worried expression as he studied his boy.

”Yeah, I’m… I’m good, Papa.” Peter stuttered out, but Stephen was not very convinced and stepped into the shower, a knowing smile on his face.

”Pete, we see that something’s up. You know you can tell us anything, yeah? We won’t be mad, promise.”

Tony nodded in agreement to what his husband had said.

Peter considered his options again and looked down at his erect cock again. To both his horror and confusion, something white started leaking out of his cock, just a few drops, but still he blushed furiously. Peter almost looked sunburnt over his entire chest because he blushed so hard, a little whimper escaping his throat.

Stephen and Tony shared a momentary wicked look between them and agreed on a plan of action without even speaking, just through a silent nod and blink. Tony was the first one to move and left the shower for a moment. Meanwhile, Stephen moved closer to Peter and grasped his chin, tilting his head up so that they were eye to eye. The little boy looked anxious and afraid, his bottom lip between his teeth and fiddled with his hands nervously in front of his cock to hide the sight.

”Daddy…”

”Come on, tell me what’s going on, Pete.” Stephen encouraged gently, although with a little smirk on his face as he lapped up the sight of his flustered boy.

”I-I feel funny.”

”Funny in a sick way? You feeling icky?”

Peter shook his head softly, huffing out a heavy breath when Stephen brought him closer, nudging his muscular thigh in between Peter’s skinnier ones so that the boy could rut against him.

”You feel good then, little one?”

”It tingles, Daddy. Ah- it feels good.” Peter whimpered as he gained some courage and moved his hips to rut against his Daddy’s thigh. The movement sent sparks to his stomach and another few drops of white ran down his cock.

Tony returned then, with a bottle filled with a clear liquid which Peter thought was shampoo, but that turned out to be wrong when he poured some of it onto his thick fingers and then brought his hand in between the boy’s pale ass cheeks. Peter jumped at the invading touch, but didn’t pull away, because Papa could be trusted. Papa wouldn’t hurt him, but still Peter was unsure of what was going on and whimpered.

”Am I getting punished?” The boy asked shyly, mumbling the words into his Daddy’s hard chest.

”Why would you think that, baby?” Stephen asked, one hand in Peter’s wet and chlorine smelling curls and the other holding a firm grasp on his ass cheek to give Tony better access to the boy’s rosy bud where he was circling his slick fingers to relax the tight ring of muscle. Peter let out a choked moan, rising onto his tip toes and bucking his hips to rut against Stephen’s thigh again.

”Because- this is naughty?” Peter suggested quietly, sounding a bit breathy as he rocked back and forth between rubbing his cock and Papa’s fingers teasing his little hole.

”No, no, sweetie. This is perfectly normal.” Tony assured and finally pushed the first finger in, smirking at the moan that Peter let out. ”Your Daddy and Papa would never hurt you, baby boy. You just relax and let us take care of you, yeah? We are gonna make you feel so good.”

And Daddy and Papa were right. It felt heavenly and Peter’s head was spinning with the sensation of Daddy’s hand around his cock and Papa’s fingers in his ass. The boy still felt naughty and blushed and whimpered in embarrassment, but in a way that just added to the heat in his lower stomach, knowing that what they were doing was kind of naughty. After all, he was not allowed to touch himself down there and he had to have one of his Daddies clean him down there during baths and showers. Peter wondered if Uncle Steve also did this to Bucky, but did not ponder on it for a long time as he was so dizzy with arousal.

”Daddy! I don’t know what’s- It feels funny!” Peter cried out in fright as all of this was so new to him. Stephen and Tony knew, however, based on the boy’s high pitched whimpers and how tight his little balls were drawn up that he was close to an orgasm. They held their little one steady in their strong arms, but did not slow down the finger fucking nor the jerking motions.

”It’s okay, Pete. We got you, just let it happen. Don’t hold back.” Tony instructed and continued with toying with the boy’s prostate, enjoying the way the ring of muscle clenched around his two fingers. A few seconds later, Peter drew in a long breath, held it for a second and then cried out as he came, painting his own stomach and his Daddy’s fist with his white cum.

”It’s okay, it’s okay. You are doing so good, baby boy. We got you, don’t worry. Such a good boy for your Daddies, yeah? Good boy, Pete.” Stephen comforted as the boy mewled and whined through his orgasm, quivering where he stood on his tip toes and supported by his Daddies.

”How was that, baby?” Tony asked and eased his fingers out of the boy’s still spasming hole. ”You still feel funny?”

With a shy and tired giggle, Peter shook his head and practically slumped down onto the marble floor of the shower. He stayed there during the whole shower, playing with his water crayons and drawing on the marble wall while his Daddies washed his hair and body. When Peter was squeaky clean again, Stephen and Tony cleaned and washed themselves, stealing some lazy kisses from one another and groping at each other’s asses and cocks. Peter didn’t pay that any attention, as he was quite concentrated on his drawing of a shark, but he turned to look at his Daddies when Tony made a loud groan.

Peter eyed the two of them and his eyes lingered on their groins where their cocks were growing hard and swollen, just like his had been earlier. For some reason that he did not understand, Peter wanted them in his mouth, like a pacifier to suck on.

”That’s a scary shark you made there, little one. Good job.” Stephen praised, snapping Peter out of his little moment of staring at his Daddies cocks.

”Thank you, Daddy.” Peter replied politely and took the shower head that Stephen was offering and washed away the drawing of the shark before getting up and snuggling into the towel that Tony held out for him.

Now Peter just found his Daddies to be silly. After walking out of the shower together, all three of them dried their hair off and lathered themselves in after sun lotion. Peter, of course, got help from Stephen and Tony to do that, but it all took longer than usual because they continued groping one another, even biting each other’s earlobes and necks.

”You and Daddy are naughty.” Peter pointed out as Tony used the blow dryer to dry off Peter’s curls. Tony just winked down at him in response. ”Can we do it again, Papa? Please?”

Shutting the blow dryer off, Tony gave the boy a peck on his cheek. ”Next time, baby, because now it’s naptime.”

Peter tried to protest, but Stephen gave him a stern look as he returned with a pair of Pokemon boxer briefs and a t-shirt for him to put on. It was the perfect outfit for a nap on a summer afternoon. His Daddies were wearing even less though. They were just in boxer briefs and Peter had a feeling they would be ripping them off as soon as he fell asleep.

It felt a little bit unfair, but Peter trusted his Papa to keep his promise and that next time he could join his Daddies and they could all be naughty together. So, Peter didn’t protest against naptime as he was led to his bedroom by both his Daddies by the hand. His bed felt nice and cool as he lay down and immediately sought out one of his numerous plushies, holding it close to his chest.

”Sleep tight, baby boy.” Tony muttered against his temple, leaving a sweet kiss before pulling away so that Stephen could do the same.

”We love you, sweetie.”

”I love you too, Daddies.” Peter mumbled with a little sigh, giving a tired wave to them both as they stepped out of the room, dimming the lights before shutting the door.

#my prompts #little!peter #starker #ironstrange #strangespider #strakerstrange #peter parker x tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #tony stark x stephen strange #peter parker x stephen strange

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