#literally no reason to hold his hand like that and wordlessly say ''be careful'' with just his expression | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

egcdeath · 9 months ago

Text

getting down to business

pairing: patrick zweig x reader

summary: you and patrick deal with pre-wedding nerves. (part of the succession/tomshiv adjacent au. previous parts here: part 1 and part 2)

word count: 6.3k

warnings: mostly fluffy with a hint of angst, a touch of jealousy, some allusions to cheating but no written cheating, tashi cameo but she’s a little mean, weddings, a bit of family drama, super brief mention of alcohol, a little domesticity and cheesiness at the end

author’s note: this is very much the calm before the failmarriage storm.

i would be remiss if i did not thank my succession anon for all of their help with brainstorming this fic and au. i mean it when i say that this literally would not exist without them. i hope you all enjoy!!

You were no stranger to anxiety, but as you sat at a vanity in a bedroom located in a castle, applying mascara in a way that was much more meticulous than mascara application ever called for, you couldn’t deny that this particular flavor of anxiety was something that you hadn’t ever experienced.

It was a strange mixture of excitement, knowing that you’d finally be marrying Patrick in just under 24 hours, fear of what the future may hold for you, and a touch of dread of having to spend the evening with a mixed bag of guests—some who loved you and hated your fiancé, others who hated you and loved your fiancé, and a few who didn’t particularly care for either of you.

Your eyelashes were beginning to look a bit like spider legs, so you put the wand down and let out a long, drawn out breath. Everything was going to be fine.

In a stark contrast to you, Patrick strolled out of the bathroom confidently, his posture so impeccable that it could put anyone to shame by just looking at them. He had no reason not to look as sure of himself as he did, as he looked absolutely dashing in the tailored suit he wore. If you weren’t so anxious, you certainly would’ve commented on how handsome he looked—maybe even running a hand down his chest or copping a feel of his ass that looked criminally good in his pants.

“Ready?” he asked after approaching you where you sat on the bench in front of the vanity before setting a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you laughed nervously and looked at the two of you in the mirror in front of you. You snaked your hand up to set it on top of his and gently squeezed it.

“That doesn’t sound very ready to me,” he sat down next to you, the two of you barely fitting on the small bench.

“Sorry. I am ready to marry you. I’m not ready to mingle with your family and my work associates,” you shifted your gaze from looking at Patrick in the mirror, to looking at him beside you. “Can you believe that by this time tomorrow, we’ll be married?”

His expression briefly shifted away from one of confidence to one of nerves, the moment so small that anyone else would miss it, but after knowing him for as long as you did, you picked up on it with ease. Though he was putting on a brave face, it was somewhat of a relief to know that he was feeling just as anxious as you.

“If it’s any comfort, your guests don’t like me very much either. We’ll just stick together and have each other’s backs.”

“Sure,” you agreed and smiled at him, though you knew that things were never that simple when his family were involved. You kissed Patrick’s clean-shaven cheek, leaving behind the smallest hint of a lipstick mark. He turned his face to look at it in the mirror, and set his hand on top of the space that you just pecked.

“I hope you know that I’m not wiping that off.”

“Good. Let everyone know you’re mine,” you grinned, then stood up and walked away from the vanity and over to the floor to ceiling window that gave you the perfect view of your first few guests arriving, milling about and talking with each other.

It didn’t take long for Patrick to join you, wordlessly announcing his arrival by setting his hand on the small of your back as he stood beside you, taking in the scene below you.

“Should we just run away and get married at a courthouse or something? No guests, no castle, no fancy rings, just you and me?” you asked jokingly, though your words had the slightest bit of truth to them. Genuinely, you would marry Patrick anywhere or any time. You would marry him right in that bedroom, though the fact that the bedroom was located inside of a castle only slightly betrayed your sentiment of not needing extravagance.

Patrick laughed at your words, so you laughed along with him. Your laughter was a welcome antidote to your nerves, your anxiety dispelling with every rise and fall of your chest.

“I would marry you anywhere,” Patrick said rather earnestly for what should’ve been a joke. “But our guests are starting to arrive, and I don’t want to piss anyone off by being late. Let’s go?”

“Good point,” you agreed, wasting no time by pacing back over to the vanity and taking one last good look at yourself.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” Patrick complimented as he set a hand on the small of your back once more, subtly shepherding you to the door. “You know how much I love that dress on you.”

“You look pretty handsome yourself,” you replied as you closed and locked the door behind you.

“Even at my best, I couldn’t look a fraction of how good you do.”

“Are you sure? You clean up pretty nicely.”

The two of you went back and forth as you walked out, your silly and meaningless banter a welcome distraction from the particular flavor of nerves that your wedding produced.

The months leading up to your wedding were nothing short of an absolute whirlwind. Between deliberating on cake flavors and laborious dress fittings, you were relieved that the drama of your engagement was finally coming to an end, but slightly anxious to see what your marriage had in store for you.

You were pretty sure that nothing would really change—that was the case for most other couples, so you couldn’t see why that would be any different for you—other than your net worth increasing by a few billion, of course.

Patrick had been a bit of a diva leading up to the wedding. Though you had some of the best wedding planners money could buy, he seemed to be stressed and nitpicking every single detail that they ran by him. It started off as sweet that he was so worried about giving you the best wedding possible, but eventually became a little concerning to see your fiancé practically pull out his own hair over an event that would only last a few days. Still, it was a relief to finally see the fruits of his labor pay off, and to know that his higher stress levels would finally come to an end.

While you were excited for Patrick’s stress to conclude, you were also ready for the rumors and gossip of you being a gold digger to be put to bed. You would think that after years of being together with Patrick, people would eventually stop accusing you of being his sugar baby or someone who slept her way to the top–but no, the tabloids and his family always seemed to have something to say about your relationship. Surely, tying the knot and legally being bound to one another would give the media a little less to discuss, and might finally shut up his sisters.

You would never forget the look on their faces when Patrick announced that the two of you were engaged. You weren’t exactly sure if he meant to do it as unceremoniously as he did, but after growing tired of seeing you being picked on at a family dinner, he finally revealed the news by referring to you as his fiancé. It was nice to not have to hide anything, but if you’d known that you would spend the next several months hearing the same lines about how they never expected their commitment-phobic sibling to marry someone, let alone a small-town nobody, you would’ve kept it secret until the day of the ceremony.

Regardless, his family was your family now, and your family was his–which was something you tried to explain to him as you attempted to convince him to come to Minnesota with you and meet your parents for the first time. After years of your relationship (and years of Patrick putting off meeting your family), he finally agreed to come back home with you. Though the trip didn’t go as well as either of you probably would’ve liked, with your parents turning out to not be the biggest fan of your fiancé, you were at least able to check that box off.

Besides, it was basically a rite of passage to hate your in-laws. At least that aspect of your relationship felt normal.

As the date of your wedding grew closer, you couldn’t help but notice Patrick’s weird moods. How he’d pull away from you and grow distant when you brought up how soon the wedding was, or how he’d occasionally reject your affection shortly after you mentioned that he’d be your husband in a short while.

Not to mention the prenup. You would remember that conversation for years to come–how he awkwardly served you the papers over breakfast, giving you a manila envelope and an awkward justification of how his family insisted on it and that it was just a formality, how you eagerly agreed to sign it regardless of his contents, and how he insisted that you at least have a lawyer look over it.

The following circumstances were somehow even more awkward–the phone call you had with your mother after she looked through the document where she advised you against signing it and pointed out that the document seemed to have a clause for everything under the sun except infidelity. Even worse was the conversation you had with Patrick after your call with your mom, and the weird way he danced around that particular clause–or the lack thereof.

Still, you were so in love with your partner and wanted to marry him so bad that it didn’t even seem like an issue. You knew Patrick had a lot going on, but you were more than pretty sure that he would never cheat on you.

You all but put that out of your mind, not letting a few weird instances get in the way of you marrying your dream man.

Once your bachelorette party came around, you made the mistake of taking the party out of your closest friends’ hands and into the hands of one of Patrick’s sisters, who insisted that she be in charge of the event. Several fun cocktails, some sort of business meeting between Patrick’s sisters and the owner of the family’s biggest competitor, and one tablet of molly later, his sisters were loaded with blackmail material for the rest of your life.

Stress around your wedding only seemed to continue to grow as the date grew closer, with Patrick managing to somehow grill your wedding planners even more, his father declaring that he wouldn’t be attending the wedding at the very last minute after Patrick somehow pissed him off, and your parents putting pressure on you to reconsider the union altogether.

To say that you were relieved that this pre-wedding chapter of your life was closing was a complete understatement. You could only hope that the event finally happening would put an end to the endless cycle of tension and drama that was turning out to be your wedding.

You did your best to hide your relief as you stood in the pathway in front of his mother’s castle and clung onto Patrick’s side, greeting your guests with a friendly wave or a hug if they were particularly close to either of you. You spent so much time waving, shaking hands, and hugging that your arms were beginning to go sore, and you were starting to grow worried that the next person who shook your hand and complimented your appearance would be on the receiving end of an unwarranted angry outburst.

Luckily for both of you, the endless greeting and small talk was beginning to come to a close. Most of your guests arrived right on time, if not earlier than expected, and were all chattering amongst themselves on the inside of the old building.

As you were beginning to wind down, finally letting out the hefty sigh you’d been holding all evening, a sleek black car pulled up, and out walked one of the most gorgeous women you’d ever laid eyes on. Looking like she sauntered right off the cover of a magazine and donning a dress that looked particularly similar to yours—save for its red hue—you couldn’t help but lock your eyes on her as the valet took her vehicle and she walked toward the two of you.

The woman approached Patrick first, shaking his hand in an almost awkward way, as if she weren’t totally sure of what way was most appropriate to greet him.

“Glad you could make it, Tashi,” he said, sounding slightly awkward himself. His interaction with her was such a stark contrast to the way he held himself just a few guests ago that you almost couldn’t believe it.

It felt strange for you to be putting a name to the very beautiful face that was Tashi Duncan. You couldn’t help but wonder why Patrick seemed so awkward with his coworker, as if he didn’t work closely with her every day–though you figured it was more likely for him to be generally feeling uneasy from the wedding and the sheer amount of people you’d both just greeted, rather than anything with that one particular guest.

Still, something about meeting her felt a little off. You vaguely recalled when Patrick told you about working with her, soft launching his new position by telling you that he’d be working with an old friend from college. A week later, and her description turned into an old friend-with-benefits from college, and a few days after that it turned into the woman he dated for a few months. You’d been so offended at the time, but seeing her now, in all of her beauty and confidence, made you realize why your partner might want to keep that type of thing from you. Besides, you’d been the one to omit the information that you were almost engaged to the boyfriend you were with before Patrick until he’d come face-to-face with him during his trip to Minnesota–though that’d been more accidental than on purpose. Neither of you were perfect.

“Yeah, good to be here,” she commented, then looked up at the looming building above the three of you. “Glenn will be here later. He’s on his way but his flight got delayed. He should make it in time for the strategy session tonight, though.”

You were a little surprised at her ability to talk shop right away and so freely at your wedding, despite the policy you insisted on having no discussions of work. What was even more surprising was the fact that Patrick would be working on the eve of your wedding night. Surely, Glenn’s presidential campaign could wait a few days.

You bit your tongue despite the newfound complaints for your fiancé and continued to observe the two of them and the way that something seemed to hang over their interaction. Did a presidential campaign really call for all of that drama? Maybe they secretly hated each other. You would have to ask Patrick about it during your pre-wedding debrief.

“Cool. Well, there are drinks and snacks inside. I think Cornelia wanted to talk to you about something, too.”

“Cool,” she replied, parroting Patrick’s words. “Congrats, guys,” she said as she acknowledged you for the first time in your entire interaction.

She walked off without sparing you another glance, leaving you to look at your fiancé

“Want to head inside?” he questioned, all tension suddenly gone from the air.

“Sure,” you shrugged.

As the two of you walked inside, you held onto Patrick’s arm for the stability that walking on gravel in high heels required. “So that’s the famous Tashi?” you asked, mostly trying to make small talk.

“Yeah,” he replied, keeping his eyes glued in front of you.

“She’s hot,” you replied, mostly joking after what was clearly a very tense moment.

Patrick chuckled, but it sounded rather forced. You tried not to think too much of it. Besides, there was no time to think when you were immediately bombarded by your guests the moment you walked into the room.

The two of you socialized with guests as a unit for as long as you could both manage, knowing that both of you desperately needed the backup when it came to interacting with each other’s inner circles. You would never let Patrick take on your parents alone, and he would certainly try his best to not leave you alone with his sisters.

Somehow, the two of you still ended up separated once Patrick was whisked away by his mother—who he needed to give a stern talking to after she spent the evening making small talk with your guests by asking how long they thought your marriage would last—leaving you to take on the rest of the foreseeable evening on your own.

If you had to make small talk on your own, you at least needed something strong to drink. You wandered off to the bar to attempt to fulfill that need before you received yet another passive aggressive comment from Patrick’s mother about you not being the right person to marry. Though, you guessed if you owned a castle that would be inherited by one of your children, you would probably want their spouse to be an heiress, too.

You ordered yourself a cocktail then took in your surroundings, finding yourself surprised when you realized that you were standing right next to your fiancé’s coworker and ex-girlfriend.

It would be rude of you to wordlessly stare or to act like you hadn’t seen her after you already clearly made eye contact with her, so you had no choice but to commit to speaking to her, lack of liquid courage be damned.

“Great dress, by the way,” you referred to her dress that looked nearly identical to the one you were wearing. You’d picked it special for this occasion, its tight fit complementing your curves nicely and being one of your fiancé’s favorites in your closet.

“Thanks,” she looked down at the dress as if she were seeing it on her body for the first time. “This guy I knew used to really like this style.”

You raised your brows curiously, knowing that Patrick was a big fan of your form-fitting cocktail dress, much like the one Tashi was wearing. Surely, the man she was referring to was him.

You wondered if your fiancé’s taste hadn’t changed since college, or if the two of them discussed fashion often while they worked together. For some reason, you just couldn’t imagine Patrick showing his coworker a picture of his favorite dress of yours in his closet. For the first time that night, you felt genuinely uneasy. Was she trying to play some sort of mind game with your fiancé?

“You know, I never really thought that Patrick would settle down. Especially with someone like you,” she paused as she took the sight of you in and gauged your unmoved reaction. “No offense.”

“None taken,” you lied. “You’re not the first person to tell me that, and I’m sure you won’t be the last.”

You laughed the comment off, doing your best not to assume the worst of your guest, despite the fact that you were growing very tired of that sentiment. You’d heard it a thousand times from Patrick’s family, even more often from the press, and now from his ex-girlfriend. Besides the fact that it was painfully unoriginal, you didn’t need to be reminded that you were out of Patrick’s league at the frequency you were currently at. Hopefully, that would be yet another thing you would stop hearing after you finally tied the knot.

“Well, I don’t think any of us thought he would be able to get his shit together around love and commitment. You should’ve seen him back in his prime. God, he was such a slut. He was so scared of commitment that he would self-sabotage and cheat on everyone, even people he’d only been seeing for a few weeks. It’s honestly a miracle that we lasted as long as we did.”

What was the point of her sharing this information? Was she trying to play mind games with you?

“And how long was that?”

Three months. You asked as if you didn’t already know the answer. At least, you knew the answer that your fiancé told you.

“Not long,” she replied coolly, wholy unphased by the reminder that their relationship came and went. “All that’s to say, congratulations on domesticating Patrick Zweig. He talks about you like you’re the best invention since sliced bread. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

You would certainly hope he talked about you so highly–especially to his ex who didn’t seem to be fully over him. You wondered if her little crush on your husband was as obvious to him as it was to you. Again, the thought made you feel uneasy.

You didn’t have the time to collect your thoughts enough to come up with a witty remark by the time that you were interrupted by your partner who was looking more than slightly disheveled by an urgent speed walk over to you.

“Hey!” he sounded slightly out of breath as he greeted the two of you. “Mind if I steal my fiancé?”

“She’s all yours,” she gave Patrick a smirk and for a moment, he looked mildly alarmed. The look didn’t last long, but it was enough for you to feel slightly unnerved. You didn’t enjoy feeling like you were out of the loop when it came to your partner, but you did your best to push the weird feeling you were having out of your mind. It was probably nothing.

You allowed yourself to be swept up with Patrick for the rest of the night, endlessly socializing with your guests despite your quickly depleting social battery. You didn’t even have it in you to protest when Patrick snuck off to meet with his candidate and Tashi, despite your plans to give him shit about working at a very explicitly no-work function.

The exhaustion of your day fully settled into your body the moment you stepped into your bedroom. You all but collapsed in bed, burying your face in a pillow that smelled distinctly of your fiancé’s shampoo. You lamented the fact that he wouldn’t be sharing a bed with you that night out of tradition and superstition. You had so much you wanted to discuss with him about the day, like his overzealous aunt who seemed to be following you around all evening, and his ex-girlfriend’s strange behavior. You wanted to ask him if he was as nervous for the ceremony as you were, or if seeing you in your dress turned him on as much as it turned you on to see him all dressed up in his suit.

Shit. Your dress. You needed to shower and take that annoying, tight thing off, then prepare your hair for the stylist in the morning, and do a twelve-step skincare routine to ensure that you looked as dewy and radiant as possible for your wedding.

You groaned into the Patrick-scented pillow at the idea of having to get up, but accepted the necessary evil with the knowledge that you’d thank yourself in the morning.

By the time you got yourself settled back in bed, you shot Patrick a text message that remained unanswered and tried to relax your racing mind enough for you to actually fall asleep.

A soft knock on your door disturbed your restless half-awake half-asleep state, the anxiety and excitement of getting married the next day coursing through your veins and preventing you from properly sleeping.

You didn’t respond to the knocking, hoping that the person might get the memo and walk away on their own. When the knocking happened again, this time with more gusto, you sighed as you got out of bed, fully prepared to snap at a drunk guest who wandered to your room and decided to bother the bride.

When you opened the door, you were surprised to find that your visitor wasn’t a drunk guest at all, but your fiancé.

“Patrick?” you asked as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, still not completely sure that you weren’t dreaming.

“Yeah. Can I come in?”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you whisper-shouted. “It’s bad luck.”

“Do you really believe that?” he asked with half a smirk. Regardless of what you believed, you immediately knew that he would be seeing you in some capacity before your wedding, despite whatever old wives’ tales had to say about his action.

“I believe that I don’t want you to see me like this,” you gestured up to your face, where under-eye patches and a sticky face mask sat on your face.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he dismissed before worming his way into the room. You accepted defeat and closed the door behind him.

“Everything okay?” you asked him. “Having second thoughts already?”

“I just wanted to see you,” he dismissed. not really answering either of your questions.

“At,” you glanced at the clock on your bedside table, “3:35 in the morning? You’ll see me in a few hours. What’re you really here for? One last fling before the old ball and chain?” you joked, though you were genuinely curious about his middle of the night appearance.

He looked at you for a moment, trying to read your expression. You looked back at him just as openly, trying to figure out if you should continue joking with him or take his nerves seriously.

“Pat?” you asked again, trying to catch his attention.

“Sorry. Want to come out to the grounds with me?”

You glanced over at the clock once more, knowing you were going to be absolutely exhausted in the morning, but your fiancé looked like he was in need of a little late night debrief.

“Sure. Why not.”

Patrick waited patiently at the bench in front of your vanity as you searched for and pulled on a robe. You swore you heard the faint sound of him looking through your jewelry and makeup as you changed into something a little less pajama-like and peeled off the items on your face.

Your fiancé took your hand as the two of you left the room, leading you through the sprawling old castle. The two of you did your best to be quiet, though you couldn’t help but let out the occasional gasp of surprise at the sight of such an awe-inspiring building.

“It’s so beautiful out here,” you were slightly wonderstruck once you finally arrived at the massive garden, taking in the tall, neatly trimmed hedges that were currently surrounding you.

“I know. I spent so much of my childhood admiring it from afar. My mom always spent so much time and effort hiring people to make it as beautiful as it was, then never let us come out here.”

“That seems like a waste,” you commented as you sat down in a padded chair.

Your partner shrugged dismissively, never one to do any deep analysis on his very strange childhood. “Bring that up with her, I guess.”

“Does that mean we’re breaking the rules right now?” you asked with a mischievous grin.

“I’m sure she can make an exception for the newlyweds.”

“Not newlyweds yet,” you corrected. “Which reminds me, why did you bring me out here?”

“I wanted to show you the garden. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” you repeated, then leaned into him. “Obviously you’re withholding information. So spill, before I start talking your ear off with gossip from today, since we didn’t get to do a debrief.”

“There’s nothing to spill,” he replied, though you both knew that wasn’t the truth. “Is it a crime for me to want to see my beautiful fiancé before we get married?”

“Stop trying to butter me up, Zweig.”

“I’m not buttering you up, soon-to-be Zweig.”

“Sure,” you eyed him in a playfully suspicious manner. “I’m not sure I believe you though. I think the Patrick of last week who was running around like a chicken with his head cut off to make sure every detail of the wedding was perfect would have an issue with that.”

“Trust me when I say that my belief that this ‘bad luck if you see each other before the wedding’ superstition is bullshit did not change over the course of a week.”

“I’ll remember you said that when our marriage falls apart,” you joked, fully confident that your marriage could withstand anything that was thrown your way.

Patrick grew silent momentarily, his bit of laughter fading away. “You don’t think that that’s gonna happen, right?”

There it was. For a moment, you were reminded of your earlier conversation with Tashi, where she told you about Patrick’s fear of commitment. While you’d heard this sentiment from his inner circle a number of times, you weren’t sure you’d ever seen it so blatantly in front of you. Patrick never seemed to have an issue with you when it came to the progression of your relationship—not hesitating to ask you to move in with him or even to marry him. Still, it was interesting to hear it come from the source himself. Patrick was nervous about what marriage meant for the two of you and your future.

“Of course not,” you leaned against him and took his hand, knowing that physical affection was a nearly foolproof method of helping to quell his nerves. “We’ve been together for so long now that I can’t see how one extravagant event, some pieces of paper, and jewelry are gonna make any difference with us.”

“Yeah, it’s just…” he paused and trailed off, trying to collect the thoughts that he hadn’t been able to put into words. “I never had a good example of love growing up. You’ve seen how my parents are. It’s a miracle that my dad decided not to come to the wedding, ‘cause god knows those two would find a way to make it all about themselves and how much they hate each other. And you’re so… I don’t know. I don’t know if I deserve this. You, I mean.”

You were taken aback at his confession, completely unaware that Patrick ever worried that he wasn’t a good enough partner for you. Suddenly, all the drama of trying to give you the perfect wedding made a little more sense to you.

“Oh Pat,” you laid your head on his shoulder and scooted so close to him that you were practically sitting on his lap. “I feel like I should be the one who’s worried. All night long, people have been telling me that you settled for me and that I’m out of your league. Even your ex-girlfriend told me that.”

“They’re all idiots. You’re the one who settled for me. I don’t know what the hell I did to get someone like you in my life.”

“I guess if we both settled for each other, then we’re even,” you gently poked at him. “I think maybe we should put less stock into what other people think of our relationship. I love you and I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume that you love me. I don’t see why it has to be any more complicated than that.”

He wordlessly kissed the top of your head and somehow pulled you even closer to him. Though he didn’t say it, you could feel those three words on the tip of his tongue and radiating from his actions.

The two of you moved on from the topic of your pre-marriage fears rather quickly and spent the rest of the night swapping stories and gossip of your guests. It was refreshing to have a moment where you could both pretend like one of the biggest days of your life wasn’t rapidly approaching.

Eventually, the dark night sky began to fade into a lighter, brighter color, and the sun peeked out from the horizon. You hadn’t realized just how long the two of you’d been talking until the morning light reminded you that it’d been hours since you initially began your conversation. Years into your relationship, and you were still stunned at your ability to never run out of things to say to each other.

You yawned, doing your best to keep the action subtle despite the lack of sleep beginning to catch up with you. You were having such a good time with your partner that you almost didn’t want it to end.

Despite this, when Patrick noticed just how tired you seemed, he insisted that the two of you go back to your respective rooms. Though the task seemed simple, there was one small issue—a few of the staff for your wedding had already arrived in the building. You certainly didn’t want any rumors about your whereabouts, or the fact that you’d broken tradition and apparently doomed your marriage in one fell swoop.

Luckily for you, Patrick spent many summers wandering the halls of the castle, sneaking in and out to spend the night at a club or smoke a blunt with his sisters on one of the many acres of land his family owned.

Your partner took your hand as the two of you snuck through corridors, trying your best to be quiet despite your urge to giggle or step a little too aggressively on an old, creaky piece of wood. At one point, you were nearly caught by a caterer, only narrowly dodging them by pressing yourselves up against the wall and holding your breaths. Once the coast was clear, Patrick stole a quick peck from your lips, then continued to show you his secret way to get back to your bedroom for the night.

At last, you made it back to your bedroom, where Patrick nudged the door open and stepped inside behind you.

“Do you remember the night we met?” Patrick asked out of the blue as he stood by your doorway. He had a slightly distant look in his eyes, as if the reality of your situation was settling in for the first time after a somewhat surreal night.

The first night you met was one of your clearest memories. You swore you could remember every detail of your conversation with your friend before she told you that Patrick was coming, and the drink you ordered to calm your nerves. You remembered exactly what bedsheets were sprawled across Patrick’s mattress, and every subject you covered as you talked to him for hours in his kitchen.

You didn’t know how to put that all into words, so you responded simply. “Of course I do.”

“I remember thinking that you changed my life already, and I’d only known you for a few hours. I think I wanted to propose to you after you stayed up talking to me all night.”

For a moment you thought about the ring box you’d seen hiding in his dresser, well over a year before he proposed to you. You wondered just how long Patrick thought about asking you to marry him before he actually ended up doing it.

“Is that version of yourself jumping with joy that we’re finally getting married?”

He grinned at you. “This version of me is jumping with joy that we’re finally getting married. I love you. Like, a lot. More than I thought was possible.”

Though you knew it was the truth, you didn’t hear those three words from him all that often. Somehow, hearing them made all of your nerves and fears for the day melt away. You didn’t even get a chance to return the words before your fiancé was pulling you in for a gentle kiss, his hand coming up to cup your face sweetly. Even as he pulled away, you chased his lips, not wanting the moment to be over.

“Save the sappy stuff for your vows. I don’t want you to be all sapped-out by the time we’re actually getting married. Unless you’re planning on marrying me right now,” you held his hand that had fallen from your face against your chest, right next to your heart. You wondered if he could feel the rhythmic pattern of an organ that only seemed to beat for him.

“I told you already, I’d marry you anywhere,” his voice was only slightly louder than a whisper, as if someone might overhear and interrupt your moment.

You smiled into his eyes that almost looked like they were sparkling in the dim morning light peeking through your windows.

“Goodnight, Patrick. I’ll see you at the wedding,” you forced yourself to bid him farewell, knowing that if you had your way, the two of you wouldn’t leave the room for the rest of the day.

He gave you one last farewell kiss, this one deeper and sweeter than the one that preceded it. Though you were attempting to send him away, you couldn’t help but drape your arms around his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer and allowing him to kiss you even deeper.

The shrill sound of your phone alarm rang out from the pocket of your pajama pants, letting you know that you only had a half hour before a makeup artist, maid of honor, and bridesmaids joined you to help you prepare for your big day.

“You really need to go now,” you laughed, pulling away to turn the annoying sound off. “I love you so much.”

He blew kisses at you from the door as he left, clearly feeling just as reluctant as you to leave you alone and prepare for your actual ceremony. You watched him go and shut the door behind him and you softly sighed to yourself–a complicated mixture of relief and fear that you were one step closer to your wedding.

Part of you still couldn’t believe that he would be your husband in just a few hours.

#patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig smut #challengers fic #challengers fanfic #challengers x reader #art donaldson x reader #reader insert #josh o'connor x reader #josh o'connor

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horanghaeluvsinniehae · 1 year ago

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SKZ!BFF DRUNKLY CONFESSING PT.2 pt.1 ||BANG CHAN||LEE MINHO||SEO CHANGBIN||HWANG HYUNJIN||HAN JISUNG||LEE FELIX||KIM SEUNGMIN||YANG JEONGIN||

Disclaimer: overthinking(i think)

Your mind decided to play games on you…overthinking the texts you’ve just sent to each other. He said he’d like to clear things up. Does that mean he was just drunk and didn’t mean a word? He wants to make sure you know that he doesn’t like you and that it was just a big mistake??

You’ve had a crush on him for over a year now and all you ever dreamed of is to have a chance with him. Sadly for you it’s hard to figure Seungmin out, he doesn’t wear his heart out on his sleeve. That’s the reason why you haven’t confessed to him yet, you never know how he’s feeling about you.

You snapped out of your thoughts and looked down on your appearance. As soon as you realised what you're wearing you quickly ran to change. One time Seungmin left a t-shirt at your house when all of the boys were here and since then you wear it when he does something that messes with your head. You haven’t told him about his forgotten shirt so you don’t have to give it back…

After you changed into your own clothes and washed your face with cold water to freshen up you heard your doorbell ring. It could only be him at the door because he’s the only one who uses the doorbell instead of knocking. You took a deep breath, not knowing what’s going to happen after you open the door, you were quite anxious. You opened the door and there he stood, looking unusually nervous.

“Hi Seungmin!” You greeted him happily, all your thoughts from earlier quieting down. “Hi y/n!” He smiled at you, but something seemed off, like he was shy? He didn’t act like the Seungmin you’re used to. Usually he barges into the house right after you open the door for him (he lost his key privileges a while ago), but now he waits for you to let him in.

“Come in Seung!” You told him and gestured with your hand to come through the door. He gave you a rather awkward hug, it wasn’t a full engulfing hug, but not a side hug either…then happened the most non-seungmin thing he has ever done. Seungmin took off his shoes then did a 90-degree bow to you, but not just for a moment, no he stayed there until you talked to him.

“Seungmin, what are you doing??” He kept the bow as he talked to you. “Y/nah im soo deeply sorry for yesterday night…i was drinking irresponsibly and-.” He stopped for a moment and stood up normally, not bowing anymore. “-I like you a lot and this is not how i wanted to confess to you, but I created this situation for myself…if you don't like me that’s totally okay and I don’t expect you to fall into my arms. I just wanted to come over so i can apologise for this whole mess.” He finished talking and looked down, so he won't have to look you in the eyes.

To say you were shocked would be an understatement, you didn’t even think of this outcome as an option. You were frozen in place and only snapped out when you heard Seungmin sigh and turn around to go to the door. You wordlessly ran after him, stood in front of him for half a second then hugged him so tightly that it was hard for him to move. You buried your face into his chest not wanting him to disappear.

“Kim Seungmin, I like you so much you can’t imagine. Please don't go anywhere.” You tell him and at that he puts his arms around you just as tightly as you hold him.“I won’t leave y/nah don’t worry. And I'm so happy that you like me back.” He said and kissed the top of your head.

You were lucky you had your face was covered because if he saw how red your face was he’d tease you forever. But it didn’t really matter because Seungmin was yours now.

A/N: I don’t care of i sound desperate, but i really want you guys to request because i don’t have much ideas(literally like zero) but i love writing!! So please even if you have a small idea or just a thought or a big idea please write it to me in the requests!! Here’s my guide how to request so no-one will be sad that I didn’t do theirs for some reason!<3 I’m sorry again and I hope this one brings some smiles to you and thank you for reading my work!!Please take care of yourselves and be safe!❤️‍🩹

taglist: @justwonder113 (if you want to be on it either comment or write in requests please<;3)

#ot8 skz #ot8 x reader #skz #stray kids #stray kids fake texts #skz fluff #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids kim seungmin #stray kids seungmin #skz seungmin #skz kim seungmin #kim seungmin #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin #seungmin x reader #skz fake texts

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dearmura · 2 years ago

Note

hey!! ive been reading your works and wow they’re all just so good. if your still looking for recs, what abt going stargazing with riki and making up your own constellations for each other??

starboy

☆ cw. some swearing, self-consciousness, dick jokes (sorry a very Riki thing to do), not beta read (grammar<<<<)

☆ pairings. non-idol! Ni-Ki × fem! reader

☆ genre. a little angst, hurt comfort, fluff, established relationship

☆ synopsis. Finding it difficult to sleep, Riki takes you stargazing, reasoning that someone as beautiful as you deserves only the most beautiful things

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You felt almost suffocated by yourself

Hot tears rolling down your cheek and onto the pillow soon form a pool that you can only assume will wash away the skincare you applied 20 minutes ago

Not wanting to wake the boy holding you, you refuse to breathe through your nose, too scared of worrying him with your sniffles. You try your best slow down your hitched breaths, though you knew you were never the best pretender

You hold your breath for a second as the boy behind you stirs, his arm around your waist inching your back closer to his figure. Slipping his hand under your head for you rest on his arm, you feel him brush against your cheek. He immediately pauses

You bite your lip to stop your tears from coming but you can't help but start sobbing. Without a word, he gently turns your figure to face him, holding your head to his neck

He always knew just what to say, or rather what not to say. He always knew what to do to make you feel better, make you feel special. And that was the thing about your relationship, the reason why the tears never kept flowing

HE always knew what to do, what to say. He was always there for you but what have you done for him. You couldn't help but think he was doing you a service by dating someone like you. The countless winks shot in his direction every time you two went out. The shameless flirting right in front of you that one dinner date. You knew it wasn't his fault. Hell, if you were them, you'd hit on him too

You tried to not let it affect you. You tried to bottle it up, to brush it off whenever he asked if you were okay. You weren't a jealous person, you knew that. Though, it didn't help that you were told one too many times that you were way out of his league

You knew you were dramatic, sobbing while explaining all this to Riki. But he seemed to think overwise, watching you attentively as you explained. Your voice hitched as you spoke

"I'm sorry about all this ki. I know I shouldn't be jealous. I know it's not your fault. I know you turned them down unapologetically every time but God ki, look at yourself and look at me. I don't deserve you" You spoke through tears, hiding your face in chest, probably soaking his shirt with your tears

"Shh shh shh, angel, angel, look at me, let me see that pretty face" he spoke softly, lifting your chin to meet his gaze

"That's a good girl" he caressed your cheek, placing a peck on your lips before speaking

"I'm not gonna go out and say that you have no reason to be jealous. If I were you, I'd be upset to. What you're feeling is okay, I want you to know that. But you're just blatantly wrong when you say you don't deserve me. Do you not see that I'm literally head over heels for you? Would I have you in my arms like this if I didn't care? Would I not even bat an eye toward those girls if you weren't the one I wanted? God y/n, you're so adorable but such an airhead sometimes" He ends on a lighthearted note, making you giggle through tears, hugging him tighter before whispering a soft thank you

Sensing you too weren't going to get a wink of sleep, an idea pops into his mind

Wordlessly, he pecks your cheek before getting up, putting on his shoes and a sweater, giving you a look

"You coming?" He asks nonchalantly

"No peeking~" He spoke singsongily, a smile evident in his voice, making you giggle

He held his hand in yours, guiding you toward some mysterious spot

"Ki, why do I feel grass?" You gasp "Are you taking me to the middle of nowhere to murder me?!" You yelled jokingly. You hear an audible scoff

"You should really stop watching those true crime YouTubers" without looking you already know the look on his face, absolutely fed up with your bs

He giggles before stopping the both of you

"Okay and...open!" He speaks giddily

As your eyes flutter open, you immediately recognize your surroundings. The same sky you both laid under, the same hill, same trees surrounding you both. Looking down, you notice the same Shin-chan blanket you made fun of him for. You knew this place all too well, played this memory too many times in your mind to forget

"I-It's our first date spot" You manage to breathe out, taking in your surroundings, tearing welling in your eyes once more

He smiles with a nod, laying on the blanket, tapping the space next to him, urging you to join

With a smile, you curl yourself around his side, face resting on his chest as his arm held you close to him

"You see that one, princess? Looks like an angel-" He points at a cluster of stars, taking your hand in his to trace the pattern

"-like you" he whispers before meeting your gaze

Your cheeks immediately flush, hiding your face in his neck out of embarrassment

"ah ah ah none of that, angel" he speaks softly, gently lifting your head up to rest on his chest again. Eyeing the stars above you, take his hand in yours, as he did you, and connected them like dots

"Look! It's a duck! Like you~" You tease, knowing how much he hates being called one, immediately bursting into a fit of laughter when you see his annoyed face

"Not a duck" He mutters under his breath, making you coo

"Ok ok im sorry...my little ducky" You peck him on the cheek, knowing he would never be able to stay upset long if you did so. Looking over at his flushed reaction, you confirm your prediction was correct

"Oh and that one!" He speaks excitedly, pointing to another cluster of stars, giggling evily

"Now that one looks like a dick" He bursts out laughing as if he made the funniest joke ever, making you scoff

"Wow, ki, so much for being romantic" you say sarcastically, making him burst into even more fits of laughter, clinging onto you for dear life. Though you wanted to make a statement, you were always weak for his laugh, joining him in his immature fun, not that you cared

Under the night sky you both stayed, making constellations of your own and talking for hours on end. The stars brought you two together and stayed with you now. You suppose, in a way, he was your starboy

fin

author's note: this ask was literally the cutest:((( btw thank you reading anon!! I'm so glad you liked them!!!! Feel free to suggest more I love asks like these <<<<3333

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #ni ki enhypen #niki fluff #niki x reader #niki x you #nishimura niki #ni ki #niki soft hours #enha imagines #enha x reader #enha

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peridotite · 2 years ago

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YOU ARE GAY

#literally no reason to hold his hand like that and wordlessly say ''be careful'' with just his expression #love fucking wins #my posts #dbz #sami watches dbz #yamtien

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nikitunez · 2 years ago

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ζ ゜✿ 。𝙀𝙉𝙃𝙔𝙋𝙀𝙉'𝙎 𝙁𝘼𝙑𝙊𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙀 𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙈𝙎 𝙊𝙁 𝘼𝙁𝙁𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 𖥧 𓂃 ᨒ ୫

ຊ pairing : enhypen x gn!reader ຊ genre : fluff, headcanon ຊ words : 434 ຊ contains : hugging, kissing, mentions of food ຊ maya's notes : thank you anon for requesting this! i loved writing it! it kinda did turn into a preferred love langues thingy in the middle but i wanted to make each member's hc as unique as possible lol 😭 please leave feedback and reblog if you enjoyed it! i would really love to know how everyone found it hehe ❤ if you would like to read more from me, my taglist and requests are open as well! but that's all for now, enjoy reading :)

𝙃𝙀𝙀𝙎𝙀𝙐𝙉𝙂 : honestly, he loves literally any kind of physical affection. but to name a few, there is running your fingers through his hair, giving him tight hugs as well as cheek and forehead kisses, saying i love you, and finally complimenting him for little successes like winning a game or making some good ramen.

𝙅𝘼𝙔 : he's kinda a high maintenance boyfriend and loves when you buy him gifts. it doesn't matter if they're cheap or expensive because for him, everything you gift him is priceless. the gifts could be anything from clothes to food to a short little trip to some nearby town.

𝙅𝘼𝙆𝙀 : if jay is a materialistically high maintenance boyfriend, this boy is high maintenance in every other department. i'm talking words of affirmation and physical affection and kind gestures. give him everything and he's a happy boy. but more specifically just remember to kiss his lips and tell him that you love him every thirty minutes if you can.

𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉 : more than cuddling with him or giving him kisses just make him a large cup of delicious hot chocolate and i promise you he will get down on one knee and ask you to marry him right then and there. but he also really likes when you offer to wash his hair for him for no reason because it's such a silly yet soothing thing to do.

𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙊𝙊 : who needs a massage chair when you exist? he loves when you sense that he's tense and wordlessly start soothing his muscles. for starters, it feels so amazing and relaxing. but also, he realizes how much you care about him and how intuitive you are when it comes to him and all of those emotions just make him feel so grateful to have you.

𝙅𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙒𝙊𝙉 : just hold his hand and watch as his eyes fill with love. he likes the way your hands fit together so perfectly, and you don't have to be walking somewhere for him to want you to hold his hand. that and whenever you poke or kiss his cheeks. he swears he hates it but deep down it makes him all warm and fuzzy inside.

𝙉𝙄-𝙆𝙄 : back hugs. make him feel like he's in a kdrama and he will cherish you for life. also whenever you push his hair out of his eyes for him. the way you smile at him when he meets your eye makes his heart skip a beat. he also likes when you feed him. whenever you're eating together, you construct the perfect bite for him and hold your palm under his cheek while asking him to open wide. he loves it.

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sukirichi · 4 years ago

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black magic [02]

request. arranged marriage + enemies to lovers (sukuna is a simp and lowkey a housewife) + sukuna’s first time with his wife

cw. slight angst, insecurities, lots of making out, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasm, sukuna worships reader, spitting, cum eating, teasing! sukuna, face-off kamasutra position, soft dom! sukuna, unedited fic, pwp

song inspo. leave the door open (bruno mars)

note. i want a husband sukuna

part one | part two

Sukuna gently takes your palm into his, soft and warm lips meeting your bruised knuckles that have seen years of hard work in exorcising curses like him. Uncanny that he showed so much affection to his enemy by nature, treating you with such care and tenderness that shouldn’t have been so possible for an evil creature like him. You’re supposed to love it, be grateful for it, yet his sweet gestures only irritate you, even more so when he retires to bed just like that without even so much sparing a glance your way.

You’ve been married for a year now that you’ve had enough of his confusing gestures towards you. One moment, he was showering you with love, regarding you like you were the light of his life before he’s walking away the next moment and pretending you don’t exist.

He was so infuriating. He would kiss you and hold you, but never touch you or be in the same room with you any longer than an hour. Even in bed, he’s always making sure his back is turned to you, peeling your arms off of him each time you attempt to cuddle him on times it got too cold. It hurts and dwells dangerously at the back of your mind – it would’ve been better if he got angry at you and announced he despised you, but he never did – that his hot and cold nature bothered you more than anything else.

You’ve eventually had enough that you just stopped caring. Barging in during his bath time, your nostrils flare upon seeing your husband so relaxed in the tub. Even after a year of marriage, he’s so unaffected and unaware by your need for him.

He really doesn’t care.

“Little one,” Sukuna blinks as he sits up from the tub, strong arms hanging off the edges of the bed. You admit; he really was beautiful and a desirable man that you couldn’t help it, couldn’t help but crave the one thing you knew you weren’t supposed to have. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you not want me?” you suddenly demand, tears already streaming down your face faster than you would like. Hell, you never wanted to cry in the first place. “Am I not desirable enough for you?”

Sukuna chuckles nervously.

Oh, great, now he’s nervous around you?

“What are you going on about?”

“Don’t act like I don’t know what you’re doing,” you snap, “Every time we go to bed, you always put some distance between us and keep to your side of the bed. You push me away when I try to reach for you and you never touch me or kiss me on the lips. I-I understand this marriage was against your will, but I’m still your wife and I need you, okay?” chest tightening uncomfortably, you place a hand over your poor, aching heart that is further crippled when Sukuna’s face falls. “I just feel like...you’re sickened by me, like you cannot stand to be with me in the same room as me. It makes me feel like...it would’ve been better if I wasn’t here.”

You don’t know what kind of response you’re expecting from him after your outburst, but definitely not him standing up to loom over you. You respectfully avert your eyes from the sinful image of water dripping down his defined body, but it’s too late and he’s too close already that you won’t be surprised if he can hear your heartbeat pumping frantically.

He was large and imposing, truly a terrifying sight right before you especially with his tattoos that trail and wrap all around his muscular thighs, yet you’re not nervous because he could hurt you.

Rather, you’re agitated because he’s so close, so within reach that if you step a little closer, you could easily find the warmth you’ve been dreaming of for so long.

You’re frustrated because you want him though you shouldn’t.

Just then, Sukuna caresses your cheek and pulls the both of you back in the tub with you above him, and him lazily grinning above you. You gasp, abashed, that your clothes were soaked to the brim and it stuck close to your damp skin until it took the shape of your silhouette. Sukuna, on the other hand, is completely unbothered as he eyes your pebbled nipples poking through the thin material of your nightgown and simply drags you forward on his thighs.

“S-Sukuna—”

“You really have no idea, do you?” he whispers lowly, his long claws carefully tracing down the sides of your jaw. “My innocent, little lamb...the reason I distance myself from you is because every waking day that you are right beside me, my self-restraint thins, and I’m not sure I can hold back a little longer from you taming me,” Sukuna’s dark eyes brims with something unreadable as he holds your gaze. The look he wears is beyond intense that he takes your breath away, literally, and you’re left gaping at him silently. “I push you away because I want you more than anything else, but I respect you and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You-you want me?”

“Clearly, little one, you’re inherently unaware of how captivating you are,” Sukuna says as if if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you shiver at his words – or from the cold water, you don’t really know. “Stop looking at me like you want me to kiss you. I may not stop once I get a taste of you. Like I said before – I won’t touch you unless you asked.”

You do remember him saying that from your first time together, but your head goes blank, and no words leave your lips even as you mouth nonsense.

Sukuna taps your lips. “Speak, little one. You need to use your big girl words.”

“Kiss me,” you vociferated in one breath, desperately clutching on your thighs. “Please.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to push you away as his eyes narrow into suspicion, but soon he’s tugging at your collar to bring you down for a heated kiss. Sukuna is tugging your robes down until your collarbones are exposed, his tongue and lips leaving yours to leave marks and love bites all over the patch of skin instead. You tug at his hair as you crane your neck to the side, succumbing to the undeniable pleasure his warmth and greediness consumes you with.

Grinding down on his groin, you notice he’s already hard. Hard for you, and this realization makes you kiss him back hungrily as you whimper above him.

Sukuna is feverishly sucking on your tongue and pawing at your breasts the next instant before the spell is immediately broken just as it happened. For before you could reciprocate the same amount of eagerness he kissed you with, Sukuna is already sliding you off of him until you’re on the other side of the tub, left staring at him wordlessly with his lips red and swollen.

“Not today, little one. I think that’s enough.”

You hear your heart shatter into pieces. Pride; it was about the only thing you had, but it seemed even that had been taken away from you.

“You really don’t want me.”

Your voice cracked as your eyes began to tear up.

“No, love, that’s not what I meant,” he groans into his hands, “Believe me, I’d spent enough nights sweaty and frustrated knowing I can’t ravish you and have those lush thighs around me already,” waiting for him to continue, Sukuna sighs and holds you closer, though he could only caress your knee right now that you’re wary of getting hurt again. “This is your first time, okay? I want to make it special for you – you’re not experiencing bliss with me if it happens impulsively with you barging in my bath.”

Something like hope lights up inside you.

“Y-you’ll really do that for me?”

“Tch, brat, don’t go all soft on me now. I wouldn’t suggest testing my patience even further,” he playfully flicks your forehead when you tried to kiss him again, but Sukuna is already tilting his cheek to other side before you could. You would’ve been heartbroken again that he’s refused you, but his words held more than reassurance – and so did his uncomfortably hard cock – that all previous insecurities vanished into thin air.

Sukuna grabs you by the waist to plant your feet on the ground outside the tub, carrying you as if you were nothing more than a ragdoll to him. “Now go and get changed. I’ll fuck you another time.”

“Don’t say it like that!”

“My deepest apologies, little one,” he commented sarcastically with a roll of his eyes, though his smile turned genuinely warm the last minute. “I’ll make love to you when you’re ready.”

He must’ve lied.

You’re annoyed because Sukuna is intentionally avoiding you and acting like you don’t exist. Pissed off, you go into a curse exorcising spree to get the King of Curses out of your mind, reminding yourself that he was vile like them and he didn’t deserve even a second of your time.

Although no matter how hard you tried, your mind still kept racing back to him even as you come back home, bloody and tired when you realize the temple is eerily quiet. Not a living soul could be found around, no servant fretted at your arrival and your husband most definitely did not lurk in the shadows like he usually did. The only sign the temple hadn’t been abandoned yet were the lines of candles trailing down the hall to your shared room with him, and you gasp as you see the petals decorating the bed and rose-scented candles lit everywhere.

Sukuna was nowhere to be seen.

But he was felt as he kisses your neck, his hands untying the knots of your yukata. You stiffen in reflex before relaxing as soon you recognize his scent. Behind you, Sukuna pauses, his lips still in the column of your neck.

“You’re upset.” He wasn’t asking; rather observing.

“Not anymore,” you mumble in response, although you weren’t entirely convinced even as you come closer to the bed, your husband trailing behind with his pinky looped to yours. “Did you do all this for me?”

“Yes. Do you like it?”

“I love it, thank you,” you hide your smile for him, not wanting him to see that it’s so easy to alleviate your anger to him. He has to earn your approval again, so you turn to him with a forced scowl and arms crossed against your chest. “But why were you ignoring me for days?”

You intended to look intimidating, but the King of Curses only laughed.

“You look cute when you’re mad. Plus, it made you want me more than you already do, didn’t it?” he chastised, the implications of his words making you pout in humiliation. Sukuna is quick to step closer to you, cupping your cheeks into his hand, and you hated how easily you leaned into his touch. Nevertheless, you turned away from him, using all your energy to muster your most serious ‘I’m not bothered’ face.

“Aw, don’t be shy, it’s written all over your face, little one,” he breathes on the shell of your ear, hands trailing down to lightly drape your clothes below your shoulders. Unable to hold it back, you end up shivering at his featherlike touches.

“It’s okay. I loved hearing your soft whimpers every time you touched yourself in the bath, thinking that I’m probably not around to hear, hm? You forget I sense everything,” his laugh is mocking yet laced with lust, “From the frantic singing of your heart, the way you tense up a little when I’m around, or the way those beautiful legs of yours clench together each time my robe is a little loosened,” Sukuna dips his nose right under your jaw where his tongue darts out to lick a flat stripe down your neck, and just like that, you’re breathlessly clutching on his white robes that are already unfastened. Damned tease.

“Even the smell of your arousal is enticing me to enrapture you right now, little one. I can practically hear the silent begging in that pretty little head of yours.”

You forgot how to breathe.

“B-but I’m dirty, I just finished exorcising curses.”

“Would it be comedic if I said I am aroused at the thought my wife could easily end me right here and now?” shaking your head at him, Sukuna smiles mysteriously. “But you won’t, would you? You need me too much for that,” he leans closer than he already was before, his lips just a breath away from yours. “Tell me, do you want me?”

“Yes,” you whispered breathily, “Please, Sukuna, touch me.”

“It’s my love to you.”

“Not Your Majesty?”

“Hmm, that is delightful to hear as well,” he says, “But let’s our drop our titles. For now, whatever happens between us is intimately between man and wife. Now go clean up, little one. I’ll be waiting for you once you’re ready.”

You waste no time into darting to the bath, scrubbing the blood and dirt on each nook and crevice of your body until you’re squeaky clean. You’re about to head back to bed when you quickly practice puckering your lips to make yourself look desirable, muttering hopefully flirty lines that would make your husband want you more before calling it quits from the embarrassment you caused upon yourself.

By the time you’ve completely dried and moisturized yourself to absolute perfection that you’re confident of yourself, you find Sukuna emptily staring into the ceilings. “Done already? Someone’s eager.”

You roll your eyes at him. Why did you like him again?

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“Gladly, little one,” he confides, patting his thighs to encourage you to climb onto him. Now that things were actually getting real and your endless dreams would soon become reality, your palms grow sweaty as you settle yourself onto his lap. “You tell me right away if I’m hurting you, you understand? One word and I’ll stop; though I doubt you’ll be in your right mind to want to stop once I’ve had my way with you.”

You don’t really understand much of what he’s saying anymore.

He’s kissing you so slowly, so passionately and you’re both undressing each other that nothing but desire and lust clouds your thoughts in that moment. You’re drunk on the sweet taste of him, his natural musky scent beyond intoxicating for your mortal self to handle. Too lost in the bliss of finally being intimate with him, you don’t realize Sukuna has already pushed your towel down until it pools at your waists. His sharp intake of breath is the only thing that pulls you back to reality as he greedily takes in each beautiful curve and dip of your body.

His stare is so fervid that you grow shy and cover yourself, where Sukuna quickly grips your wrist as a warning. “No. You do not hide yourself from me.”

“Then stop staring too much.”

“Is it a sin to appreciate divine beauty?” he tilts his head to the side and blinks at you innocently. “You are ethereal, my wife.”

Before you could be too flustered to respond, Sukuna fortunately saves you from the embarrassment by kissing you again, though it doesn’t last long before his mouth is trailing from your collarbone and down to your breasts. You mewl as Sukuna eagerly sucks on one breast, the other showered with attention from his rough, calloused palms. Meanwhile, you push his clothes away to expose his strong shoulders which you use as leverage because his ministrations make you feel like you’re losing control over your own body.

Rolling your hips on his erect cock, Sukuna groans through your skin, squeezing your breast hard enough that you can’t take it anymore right after he tweaks your nipple. “Love, please, I need you right now.”

“Patience, little one,” he reminds, “I need to prepare you well.”

“I’ve been waiting for months, Sukuna, I’m sure I’m more than ready.”

“Emotionally, sure, but physically?” he chuckles darkly, “Little one, do you not understand your nimble fingers cannot compare to my cock? I might hurt you if you’re not stretched out enough.”

“Then stop kissing me and start—” you’re cut off with a gasp, your nails sinking down harder into his skin the moment his fingers began to rub at your pussy. “Y-your claws—”

“I kept them for years, but I had to cut them just for you, little one. What do you have to say about that?”

“Thank you,” you offer with a breathy moan, head falling into his shoulder from the overwhelming yet welcomed intrusion. “Oh, Sukuna, it’s too good, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” he bites the shell of your ear and tugs at the lobe, basically biting it between his teeth to distract you from another long and thick digit pushing past your walls. “One more?”

“O-oh!” his thumb has now joined the party by rubbing soothing circles on your clit, effortlessly pulling your lips aside with the rest of his digits to expose your sensitive bundles of nerves for him. Sukuna keeps his eyes on yours the whole time, watching and drinking in the face you make – pleasure written all over your features from the swollen lips, pupils blown wide, and desire pooling in swirls of curiosity and eagerness. It’s a face he never wants to forget; a face he wants to see more of that Sukuna eventually lays you down against the pillows, admiring how unreal you looked in that moment.

Hair splayed all over the pillow, legs spread wide open with his hands caressing your core, and a strong arm gripping his with small gasps accompanied by desperate calls for his name to do more, please you more – your words instantly translate into commands.

“You are so beautiful,” Sukuna praises rather angrily, “Never forget that. Each inch of you, fuck, you are the most dangerous mortal, you know that?”

You don’t have time to react before he’s going down on you and spreads your legs apart, keeping them pinned down to the bed. The stretch hurts but he easily soothes your pain by massaging your inner thighs, crawling down to kiss your ankles, then licking all the way up to your knee where he stops for a second, only to happily be on your sopping cunt the next moment. He’s peppering barely there kisses to your inner thighs just on your outer lips, his breath warm and teasing on your heat.

It feels like he intends to ruin you tonight.

“Sukuna, stop teasing!”

“What do you want me to do, little one?” he grins from between your legs, the vibrations of his chuckles resonating deep within your cunt that sporadically clenches right in front of his face that’s shamelessly imprinting your scent deep into his memory. “How can I make you feel good?”

“You know how!”

“You need to tell me so I know. I can’t read your mind.”

“Your mouth...”

Sukuna’s smile grows wider the longer you struggle to find your words, but exactly how in the world could you say such vulgar things out loud? He is far more patient tonight than any other day, however, that Sukuna props himself to his elbows to peer up at you innocently. “Where do you want my mouth and what should I do with it?”

Swallowing the rest of your pride, you finally utter: “T-taste me...down there.”

“Here?” he prods your clit, pulling a high-pitched gasp from you. Your husband’s smirk is nothing short of condescending just before he finally kisses your clit, sucking the bud into his mouth until you writhe before him. It takes minimal effort for someone of his strength to hold your legs in place, his grip just tight enough to be commanding. The thought of being completely in his mercy made your head spin in circles, your chest heaving up and down from the pleasure he was blessing yet torturing you with. “You’re so responsive, little one. I’m honoured I’m the one who gets to make you feel like this.”

“M-more, please, I need more.”

You expect him to tease you further, but your husband must’ve noticed that you’re too edged and decided to have pity on you. He doesn’t waste another second before he’s wrapping his lips around your pussy, treating it as if it were your own lips that always tasted like honey.

Sukuna is completely immersed in the act of pleasuring you with his tongue only, so much so that he’s silent aside from the little hums he lets out while you moan for him.

Unable to care about being too loud anymore (not that you needed to since Sukuna had made everyone go back home to give you both privacy) you find yourself throwing your head back, legs falling open wider to grant him deeper access to your most sensitive parts. Sukuna continues to massage your inner thighs and even drags the back of your knee to rest on his muscular back littered with battle scars and tattoos, the dark markings on his skin flexing with each movement. His eyes are closed and his nose is grazing against your swollen clit that had reddened already, your pussy lips opening up like a new world he had to explore, and explore he would.

Your hands find solace in his hair the shade of gentle sunsets that were often shared in lazy kisses and subtle touches, nails dragging across his scalp just enough to make your husband hiss right between your legs. Something begins to tighten in your belly as you grind your clit onto his face, too absorbed in the mind-numbing sensation of his tongue now poking against your entrance and the past barrier slowly blooming open to welcome him.

With shaking legs and a chest drenched in sweat, pebbled nipples further stimulated by the cold breeze drifting in from the windows, your eyes snap open as that rope snapped deep within your belly.

Your gaze shoots down below you to watch your husband ardently lapping your juices like a man starved. Now this wasn’t new to you – you’ve heard enough about the King of Curses and his bloodlust. Whispers of his thirst and desire to slay entire towns and even feast on mortals’ souls was enough to keep you at bay when you were still a young sorcerer, for it was already a blatant warning that Sukuna would feed on anything and anyone, that his hunger was quite something that couldn’t be satiated.

But seeing him unhinged and a slave to pleasing you has never felt more erotic that you ride out your orgasm, toes curling and legs trembling every now and then from the aftershocks of your high.

Slowly, Sukuna darts out his tongue one last time just to leave a teasing touch to your clit before he’s crawling right above you again. The ceiling is obscured by his large frame hovering over you, arms trapped between your head and his gallant member poking just between your thighs. You end up shivering under him as your husband regards you – with affection, pride, curiosity – gentle in comparison to his true nature in caressing your cheek, both of you unbothered by the slick that meets your skin.

“Are you okay?” he breathes out, watching your fucked out smile bloom into a felicitous grin.

“Perfect,” you mumble, although rather shyly. You’d seen him naked before, but never hard, and never with the intention that soon you’d truly be connected – in heart, in body, in mind, and in soul. The thought makes your heart skip a beat, your eyelids growing hooded as Sukuna absentmindedly traces patterns on the curve of your hip. “Sukuna...you’re perfect.”

Your husband laughs, the sound of his glee contagious that you’re chuckling with him as well. “Have you seen yourself, little one? I think I fall for you harder each day.”

His sudden confession brings about a silence in the room, but it wasn’t comfortable, and neither was it tense. If anything, it destroys any traces of previous hesitation and pent up anger that’s only been formed in the first place due to the fact he was Curse and you a sorcerer.

The nature of your relationship had been paradoxical to begin with, perhaps even beastly, but nothing was beastly about it now as you wrap an arm around his neck to bring him closer to you. And Sukuna was just that – the man, the Curse, the feared King whose simple mention of his name made mere mortals tremble – the same person that somehow understands your silence better than anyone. No words were needed when he could read your mind and knew his way around your heart a little too much, not once leaving his lips on yours as he sits on the edge of the bed and pulls you before him. Both of your skins are hot and flushed, yet you’re greedily touching and pulling at one another, his large palms clawing at your ass to pry your pussy lips open while you drag your nails down his chest.

He grunts into your mouth; the sound deep and masculine that it vibrates all the way down to your core. You gasp into his mouth – your breath immediately swallowed by his tongue that dances with yours – once you feel him slip inside.

The stretch is unlike anything you’ve felt before.

You’ve fought and exorcised countless of curses that pain was no stranger to you at this point, but never had you felt so...alien to a sensation both tragic and addicting. Pulling away to breathe air back into your lungs, your forehead knocks with Sukuna until your noses are brushing against the others, mouth hanging open as your walls struggle to accommodate him.

“Oh, oh god,” you mewl above him, eyes wide open as you witness each inch of his cock disappearing from the motion of you swallowing his length whole. He was big; terrifyingly so, and you shake with fear that you wouldn’t be able to take him or that he might rip you apart. “Su-Sukuna—”

“You’re fine,” he reassures by pulling your cheeks back to him, your delicate face trapped between his rough hands. Although his eyes are dark with lust, there’s a tenderness behind them that placates you. “You can tell me to stop if it hurts. Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

There’s no lie or hesitation behind your voice. Sukuna watches your face carefully to detect any sign of discomfort, but you want this, want him, and the pleasure combined with the tolerable sting only makes you desire him even more. The mere fact that there had to be pain and sacrifice, that you had to place your whole trust in him before you could truly succumb to the pleasure and love that created light and hope in this world was enough for you to want to keep going.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, and Sukuna wipes away the frown on your face with the pads of his fingers.

He allows you to go at your own pace until you’re completely seated on his cock, the heated member throbbing so hard inside you that you think he’s poking and prodding right deep into a place where you could hold him close the most.

It’s too much and too good that for once, you let your walls crash down as you bury yourself in his shoulder. Sukuna holds you closer by pulling you right into his chest, large arms wrapped around your frame while your breasts tease the rugged and taut muscles of his body. Even the slightest movement of you adjusting yourself on his lap makes his cock graze against your bumpy walls that you’re both moaning left and right. As you struggle to make sense of the sensations bursting within you, Sukuna’s self restraint hangs dangerously by a piece of thread. You can tell by how he’s cupping your ass and lifting your body up effortlessly before he slides you back down on his thick pole, that single, simple gesture repeated over and over again along with him bringing his hips back up to meet your warmth sending a scorching heat all over your body.

“Love, that’s, fuck,” you curse incoherently, and upon hearing a profanity leave your otherwise innocent lips makes something snap inside your husband.

Sukuna is gripping onto your hips for dear life as he bounces you up and down on his cock, tilting his head back just to scrutinize your connected bodies. A thick ring of white cream surrounds the base of his cock until it slides down on his veiny cock, sounds of skin slapping against skin and the loud squelching of your pussy even more beautiful than the screams mortals have moments right before their death in his hands. But Sukuna be damned – you felt too good that this might as well have been his death.

“You feel so fucking good,” he praises through gritted teeth, easily manhandling you and throwing you back on the bed where he’s on you in a second. “Look at you, little one, taking my huge cock so well. It’s like you’re made just for me – you want to be with me, don’t you? I would please you, fuck you good every day, yes, fuck!”

Sukuna ended up hitting a spot that equated to uncharted territory, causing you to tighten around him with a sharp cry. “Oh, right there, right there!” you rub your clit for further stimulation, moaning louder when he hoists both your legs on his chest.

He presses your legs and hugs his around his arms, flipping it to the side until your feet are right beside his ears. Sukuna has gone completely feral – his pace and drive animalistic, growling like a predator consuming his prey before he softens, kissing your ankles just as he grips your legs to make them squish together. The sudden lack of space makes your pussy tighter and more sensitive for him that you’re fisting the sheets right beside you, too fucked out to even form a coherent sentence. You’re babbling mindlessly on how good he’s making you feel, completely limp and motionless under him from how deep he’s hitting.

“Please, please, please—” you cry out, reaching out just seconds away from your orgasm with the need to touch him. Sukuna gives in and lets go of your legs until they fall at your side, stretching you out further from when he leans forward to capture your lips in a kiss.

He’s caressing your cheeks and swipes a thumb over your tears, quite nearly folding your half. His balls are slapping against your ass the harder he thrusts inside you, but his hips are stuttering and he’s panting right beside your ear that you can tell he’s close. It prompts you to wiggle under him to wrap your legs around his waist, bringing him closer and clutching his scalp just to have him impossibly close, because even thinking about letting him go sounds too painful, especially now that he’s claimed you as his just as you’ve marked him yours.

“I worship you,” he blurts out with a few final thrusts that has you crumbling under him in a silent scream, your focus completely on his dark, passionate eyes as you came. Sukuna then laces his fingers through yours while he pumps himself inside you, your walls milking him of everything he’s got. “You are divine, my wife, you have bewitched me for eternity.”

“Sukuna,” you call out weakly, and he’s quick to litter kisses all over your face from your whimpers. “Sukuna-I-I—”

“Shh, I know, I know,” Sukuna places a finger on your lips, letting you calm down from that earth shattering orgasm he just gave you. He pulls his spent dick out a minute later and scoops up your cum that’s spilling out from your pussy lips, his gaze never leaving yours the whole while he sucks his fingers inside his mouth. He’s so dirty and erotic that you’re clenching around nothing once more, but he shakes his head with a low chuckle as if he can sense you want more. Sukuna kisses you just to transfer the cum mixed with spit right onto your tongue, gripping your jaw when your eyes widen at him. “Swallow it, little one. That’s just a taste of what I could give to you.”

You don’t know what pulled you to actually swallow it – it tastes bitter and even a little salty, though it had a bittersweet tinge of scent to it that you don’t mind, especially not when Sukuna just stares at you like you’re most his prized possession.

Sukuna is right by your side the next moment. He’s tamed the next moment, pure comfort and bliss from the way he’s tenderly running his fingers up and down the sides of your body like he’s memorizing the feel of you around him. You both don’t say anything as you place your cheek right above his chest, arms locked on his chest in a desperate cling, but neither does he want you to let go. Sukuna threads his fingers on your hair before you feel his lips caress the crown of your head, mumbling sweet nothings right as you’re welcoming sleep.

Until he taps your breast.

“Little one?”

“Yes?”

“We never had our honeymoon, do we?” he queries, and you twist your head to face him as your brows draw together in thought.

“No, I don’t think we did. I pushed you away from me on our first night together, remember?”

Sukuna’s eyes shone with mischief. “How could I forget? You tried to kill me right after our wedding,” both of you share a laugh at the memory, though there were no more harsh feelings or contempt shared, only love, and love only. Sukuna softens under your gaze as your chuckles tinker down to a giggle, your finger teasingly drawing circles on his chest as you bite your lip. And like always, Sukuna knows you just a little too well. “I know that look. What is it that you want, little one?”

“You.”

“Me?” he repeats with a dark chuckle that sends heat right down to your womanhood. “You already have me, little one, your wish has been granted a long time ago.”

Your face burns. “I mean, I want you. Again. One more.”

“One more?”

“Or maybe a lot more,” you pipe up, but Sukuna’s smirk is growing more and more devious that your former tenacity soon dwindles down into meekness. “O-only if you want to. You must be tired.”

“Little one, I’m the King of Curses, did you really think I would be tired from fucking my sweet little wife?” At his words, Sukuna tilts your chin until you’re left with no choice but to be held captive under his lust. He leans down to teasingly bite your bottom lip, and you’re already breathing hard as you feel his hands begin to trail down to your core that’s more than eager to take him all over again. “Like I said, I worship you, and I’m nothing but a bewitched man who would gladly fuck his wife as long as she asks.”

Safe to say, you couldn’t exorcise curses for quite some time.

4K notes · View notes

darkorderaf · 4 years ago

Note

Can I request kiss prompt 16 with mjf set when the inner circle was in Vegas?

Oh, this is a very fun idea. This is a nice little cocktail of shitlord!Max and soft!Max. I took some creative liberties with their time in Vegas. Thank you so much for sending, I hope you like it!! <3

Pairing: MJF x OFC. Prompts: A kiss that isn’t meant to happen but it does anyway. Rating: T. Warnings/Content: Angst and fluff! Some drinking. Word Count: 2,633.

(I don’t own gif; credit to cowboyshit!)

“Un-fucking-believable.”

“Believe it.”

“I hate him.”

“I know.”

“Like, a lot. I deadass hate the dude.”

“I know, Sammy.”

She let out a long-suffering sigh and set her hands against the bartop. From the first proposal of the Inner Circle going to Vegas, Sammy complained. It hadn’t gotten any better now that they were actually in the city. The situation wasn’t great but it was what Jericho wanted and which of them was going to tell them no? At least Wardlow seemed decent enough. He didn’t talk much and hell, that was all she could ask for. She could use less talking lately.

“Sammy, he’s not going anywhere,” she said. Her hand curled tight around her glass. “We might as well just enjoy what we can, alright?”

Sammy frowned and folded his arms as he leaned against the table. Her words seemed to help for the time being. Satisfied that they had, she threw her drink back and rubbed at her temples. They had been away from the table too long and she could already feel her phone vibrating. She clapped Sammy reassuringly on the back and the two made their way back to the blackjack table.

“C’mon, Spanish God. It’s just one night. We’ll be fine.”

---

When the boys drank, they drank. Shot after shot after shot. She had to admit that she was impressed. MJF held his own with Jericho but he was feeling it and she could tell. They stayed longer at the place with the dancing girls that she forgot the name of but she didn’t mind that. It gave her some time to think to herself, appreciate the show from afar unbothered.

“You don’t belong here.”

Or not. She mentally prepared herself with a few deep breaths before she turned around. There he was, in his purple pastel suit glory. In MJF’s endeavor to earn the trust of the Inner Circle, he had been persistent with all of them. She tried not to notice that closely behind Jericho, she was the one he seemed to flock to most. The corner of the club she sat in was away from the red light that covered the rest. The fluorescents overhead made it easier to see the warm flush to his face that the booze brough on, the slight shadows under his eyes. She didn’t know where those came from. He leaned against the bar and took a long drink. She eyed him.

Was he getting enough sleep?

Better question, why was she worried about MJF?

Wait, what did he just say?

“Hi,” she said as she idly swirled the straw in her drink. She jutted her chin at the girls. “Care to explain what you mean by that? I think the club’s fine and the girls are putting on a hell of a show. I like it here.”

He shook his head, clearly frustrated.

“That’s,” he paused and sighed. “That’s not what I meant. You don’t belong here. With the Inner Circle. With them. With Jericho.”

Her eyes flashed and she sat up straight. Narrowed eyes met his and the muscle in his jaw worked. If he was frustrated, she felt it tenfold.

“Oh? And you do?”

“Please, just give me a second and listen to me.”

MJF wasn’t someone that struggled to communicate how he felt or what was on his mind. As far as she knew. Then again, how much did she really know him? She gestured for him to sit in the stool beside her and he took it. He undid the top button of his suit and ran a hand through his hair. He looked borderline unkempt. Vulnerable, even. Her spine softened and she slowly sipped at her drink.

“You’re--” He held onto his drink, sucked in his bottom lip, then ran his tongue along it. “You’re too good for them. I’m up here--obviously--you’re here, and then they’re down there. Do you see what I mean?”

He explained with one hand low and the other above his head. He placed himself higher than her by a slim margin. She didn’t know what to make of the fact that he leaned down to really exaggerate it. The backhanded compliment made heat creep up her neck, her face. She didn’t see herself better than the others of the Inner Circle but there were times where she wondered about going on her own. Even just for a little while. She kept to herself more lately, telling the guys it was fine if they didn’t accompany her to her matches. It would make it easier when she did decide to leave.

If she did.

“Wow,” she said, her brows lifted and her tongue pressed up against the sharp edges of her teeth. “You really know how to compliment a girl, Friedman. If you want a show, it’s over there. I’m not doing this with you.”

She turned away, effectively shutting off the conversation. Her spine straightened again and she caged her drink in with her forearms. MJF didn’t move from his spot beside her. Clearly, he had something on his mind. Max dropped his forehead into his hand then straightened himself back up.

“Max.”

“What?”

“Can you call me Max?”

That made her pause, her brows slightly furrowed. His voice was so soft she barely heard it. Jesus, she didn’t know what to make of this man. This infuriating man that insulted every person she knew and yet, could always be found in the audience during her matches. Who always checked on her in his own weird, emotionally bizarre way.

‘At least you didn’t embarrass yourself.’

‘Well, she looks worse but yeesh, that’s not saying much.’

And then the odd, ‘How are you?’ But that one seemed to make him more uncomfortable than any other compliment veiled with an insult. That one seemed genuine, a removal of some mask, and he never stayed long after she fumbled an answer.

She eyed him carefully on the stool beside her.

“Alright, Max,” she said and the sound of his name brought this strange, hopeful look to his face that caught her off guard. She was so used to it in a sneer, a Cheshire grin. “Come on, let’s get some air.”

She jerked her thumb towards the exit and threw back the rest of her strong drink. Although she hadn’t had as much as the boys, she felt warm and bubbly. Even with MJF, Max, at her side as they walked out into the night air, his hand a vague sensation at the small of her back as he let her go first. Her phone vibrated and she checked it.

Sammy G. - lmk if you need help hiding body xoxo

She rolled her eyes and slid her phone back into the pocket of her dress. Max kept a small distance from her as they walked and he did the same when she found somewhere to sit. She hadn’t banked on it being cold. Goosebumps slid up the exposed skin of her arms. Wordlessly, Max offered her his scarf.

“...Thanks,” she said. “What’s all this about, Ma--”

“You don’t like me.”

His statement cut her off and she cocked her head. She played with the ends of his scarf where it draped over her shoulders. It smelled like him and something sweet.

“It’s more complicated than that,” she offered. The conversation hadn’t initially been about them but with the way her brain lingered on it and how his statement didn’t sit well with her, she shifted it further that way. “You’re not the easiest person to be around. At all. Half the time I don’t know if you’re trying to be nice or if you’re just waiting for me to fall.”

“I’ve seen you fall. More than they have, in fact.”

She shot him a look. He wasn’t wrong. Jericho made a big show of how strong the bonds in the Inner Circle were and yet... Guilt knocked at her skull and she ignored it.

“Max,” she got his attention, his warm eyes on her and his knees angled towards her. Part of the reason she wanted to get away from the others was to get some air, that was true. The other part? To see who she was talking to. Max or MJF. “For once, can you just say what you mean and not be a complete dick about it?”

His jaw worked at that and his hands switched which one was on top quite a few times. Worry overtook her when he looked like he might be sick. Or like he was in pain.

“I like you. Alright? Even though I don’t want to and God knows I’ve tried not to, I do. I think about you literally all the time and it’s awful.”

Her shoulders dropped with disappointment and she shook her head with disbelief. He couldn’t just stop while he was ahead.

“Jesus,” she said, her voice a low and bitter sound. She slipped his scarf off and handed it back to him. “That must be so fucking terrible for you. My condolences, MJF.”

He was strangely silent as they walked back but that changed as soon as they were back in the company of the boys. Loudmouth, smug MJF was back and she receded back to the edges. Sammy approached her and demanded to know what happened, Ortiz as well. She kept it simple. They talked, that was all. The two men seemed to accept that that was all she would give them for the time being.

She had too much to think about and not enough drink in her glass.

---

The next pub they went to felt more up her alley and she sat at the end of the bar, away from the pissing contest between the others. Her sour mood had lifted some, thanks to Jameson and the friendly bartender. She could feel Max’s eyes on her but she paid no attention. She wanted to drink, she wanted to take a long bath, and then she wanted to go to bed. Something simple and not at all complicated like what her heart was feeling.

“Seriously, what did he say to you?”

“That’s between us, Ortiz,” she said for the third time to the man beside her. “It’s really not something I want to talk about.”

“Man, you’re holding out on us,” Sammy cut in from her other side. “Did he say something embarrassing? Please tell me it was embarrassing. It was totally embarrassing, right? Give us the dirt, sister.”

In some ways, she supposed it was embarrassing. Her jaw clenched.

“Is the hotel far from here?”

Ortiz blinked at her.

“No, not really, why?”

“I think I’m done for the night,” she said as she slapped a twenty on the bar and pushed back from it. “I’m getting tired.”

The two men seemed shocked and appalled by such a statement.

“Woah, you serious?”

“Mhm,” she vocalized. “You boys have fun, okay?”

“One of us will go with y--”

“I’ll go with her,” Max suddenly said, his hands in his pockets as he sauntered up to the trio. “You two stay here, huh? Keep an eye on the old man over there.”

Ortiz looked at Sammy, who looked at her, who looked at Max. He was too busy staring the other two down to notice how hard she looked at him.

“Fine,” she said carefully. “It won’t take long.”

She rushed out the door and Max was quick to follow her. That hardened expression of his faded and there was Max again, soft and vulnerable and infuriating. Frustrated tears pricked her eyes and she hated it.

“Slow down,” he called to her. “I didn’t say any of that right, alright? That was a shitshow in word form and I can do better than that because, I mean, I’m me. If I fuck it up again, just slap me and we’ll be done with the whole thing.”

He caught up to her in long strides and gently encircled her wrist with one of his hands. She stopped with a harsh breath in and turned back to look at him, her fists clenched at her sides. He let go of her wrist and guided her to the side, away into one of the alleys of Las Vegas. Maybe Max was serious if he was so willing to stand next to garbage.

“I like you,” he tried again as he stood in front of her. “I think about you a lot and when I think about you, I go looking for you. I don’t even know what I’m going to say half the time when I do, alright? I just go and hope for the best. I don’t do that. Any of that. I don’t like people and I don’t hope for the best for...for anything. For anyone. But then there’s you and I do and it’s weird but I don’t hate it and I don’t hate you. That’s the thing! I. Don’t. Hate. You.”

His hands hovered by her shoulders, his eyes imploring her to listen to what he was saying. What was that one line? The one about how wonderful, how strange it was to be liked by something that hates all else? She couldn’t wrap her head around it but she knew she wasn’t angry anymore. Bewildered and breathless and taken aback and unquestionably warm. That’s what she was. Her silence compelled him to step away and she reached out for him. Giggling grew louder on the sidewalk outside the alleyway. They stared at each other, both waiting for something to happen.

“Max, I don’t know…”

She trailed and it didn’t matter that she didn’t know what to say. Anything she could have said was silenced by Max’s lips on hers, his hands on the wall to brace himself. She leaned up into him, her eyes on his and both just as confused. A giggling couple disappeared down the alley and they must have knocked against Max. His hands dropped from the wall to her shoulders and when he went to pull away, she slipped her arms around him and pulled him in. Their stagnant lips began to move and she could taste what it was that smelled so sweet. He could taste the burn of Jameson on her tongue. Their eyes fell shut and they dove into each other.

The tentative way he kissed her melted like sugar to absinthe. His tongue met hers, her teeth nipped at his lips. Not enough to hurt but enough to get his attention. His hands slid from her shoulders to her waist then finally they came to a stop at her hips. He kissed her hard and she met him on even ground, her fingers curled in tight against his broad back. A sound of disgust from him broke them apart and that scowl of his was back on his face. He breathed hard against the skin of her neck.

“Absolutely not,” he said with a borderline growl as he lifted his head and stared down the alley. “We are not making out in a filthy, scum-filled alleyway. I get that this is Vegas and it’s the bottom of the barrel but there is still a thing called standards.”

His hand slid into hers to lead her away and after a second, she laced her fingers with his. She didn’t know what they were or where the hell they would be when the weekend was over and they left this moment. They could figure it out. He looked at her from the corner of his eye and smiled at her. Not a shit-eating one, not a standing-over-your-fallen-enemy one. It was just a simple one, meant for her, and it made her hope that it wasn’t true what they said about Las Vegas. Just this once.

#mjf fanfiction #mjf imagine #mjf fic #aew imagine #aew fic #aew fanfiction #wrestling fic #wrestling imagine #maxwell jacob friedman imagine

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tetsvya · 4 years ago

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ the little things they do that make you fall in love even more.

➼ pairing! iwaizumi, kita, kageyama, kuroo, tendou, all x reader

➼ warnings! none that i can think of

➼ type! fluff, a second part to this post

➼ author’s note! wrote this at 3 am while listening to mitski and crying over aot chapter 138 bc i needed comfort

IWAIZUMI — Does your morning/night routine for you if you're too tired, or if you simply don't have the motivation to do so. He'll have you sit on top of the bathroom counter and stand between your legs, holding your jaw softly between his fingers. If you wear makeup, he'll gently rub at your skin to get rid of it, careful not to irritate your skin. He's so patient, and he’s extremely gentle with you, fingers softly brushing against your skin. He knows your routine by heart now, so you don't even have to tell him what to do. Honestly, you think he might know it better than you do. And he always finishes it off by dropping a kiss to the top of your head.

KITA — Always has your favorite snacks for you. All throughout high school, he'd keep them in his backpack or locker, just waiting for you to say that you were hungry. And it didn't stop, even when the two of you eventually moved in together. He tends to leave the house before you do in the morning, and if he knows you have a busy day, he'll leave a snack on the counter, along with a little note telling you to have a good day. He's also the type of person to send you a text to remind you to eat and drink some water. He just really wants to make sure that you're taking care of yourself.

KAGEYAMA — Stemming off this post, he has a habit of fiddling with your fingers when he's anxious or bored. He doesn't seem to realize that he does it, and he doesn't quite understand why it's so calming to him. He supposes it's because he likes the feeling of your skin against his, but he tries not to think too much about it, because it always ends up with him far more flustered than he’d like to admit. But despite not knowing the reason, it still makes you really happy to know that he's able to find comfort in you so easily. And he just looks so cute doing it, that you can't help but lean forward and press a kiss to the tip of his nose every time.

KUROO — Likes to fall asleep with his head lying in your lap. He'll wordlessly walk up to you and settle down beside you, placing his head on your lap as soon as he’s situated. He always snuggles into you before wrapping his arms around your waist, getting as close to you as he possibly can. And if your hand isn't playing with his hair within two seconds after he his head touches your lap, he'll take matters into (quite literally) his own hands, snatching one of yours in his and resting it atop his head. And if you still don't play with his hair even then, he'll shift around until he’s peering up at you, and he’ll pout until you do so (and you always do). And with the combined effort of your natural warmth and ability to douse him in serenity, along with gentle tugs to his hair, he’ll be asleep in no time.

TENDOU — Always brings you a flower, every single time he sees you. You have a collection of dried flowers in your room, far too attached to them (and the person that gives them to you) to throw them away. But the thing is, he never, ever actually buys the flowers. They're always ones that he picked from some bush or garden that he passed on his way to you. And you're sure one day, some old woman is gonna give him an earful for it, but you can't help the way your heart flutters every time he holds his pick of the day out to you, with that big smile of his on his face. And they’re always a little too long, or a little too short, or a little dirty, but you still cherish them more than anything in the world.

#iwaizumi x reader #kita x reader #kageyama x reader #kuroo x reader #tendou x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu drabble #haikyu x reader

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peachycheol · 4 years ago

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| reliable |

© banner credit: thank you to the love of my life @suhdreams for making this banner for me 🥺💘 ➸ summary: when people say ‘not all men’, they’re actually right. kim mingyu, your best friend, would never disappoint you. especially not in the bedroom. ➸ genre: pwp 😌 ➸ pairing: best friend!mingyu x reader ➸ warning: dirty talk, slight dumbification, heavy petting, unprotected sex (pls use protection irl), cream pie, oral (fem. receiving), cum eating, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, yn is really horny? ➸ w.c: 3.2k ➸ tags: you can all thank @risquewonu for this <333

➸ author’s note: ahh, i’m sorry this took me so long! i didn’t mean to write this much, but what the smuth wants, the smuth gets. also, i want to thank you all for 100 followers! i’ll make a separate post to properly thank you all, but i am!!! baffled!!! i really appreciate the support ;u; love you guys!

If there are two things in this world that you are absolutely certain of, they are: 1) Men ain’t shit, and 2) with the exception of Kim Mingyu. Knowing this information doesn’t really benefit you in any way. You still go out on Tinder dates that leave you high and dry 15 minutes after taking you home. And Kim Mingyu is still your very platonic best friend, who seems to be reliable in every single way except perhaps in the one way you need most desperately.

But for all you know, he could be just like every other male in bed. He couldn’t be unbelievably handsome, the most thoughtful, caring person you know, and a sex god; it just wouldn’t be fair! No, it is much easier to convince yourself that Mingyu’s perfection only extended to being a best friend, if only for your peace of mind. Otherwise, you’d have to live with the possibility that the only person who can give you sweet release is the only one you’re technically not supposed to fuck.

For reasons that seem to become annoyingly hazy every time you lie down next to him on his bed, just as you are at this moment.

The two of you often end nights out like this, scrolling through one another’s TikTok’s until the wee hours of the morning, laughing loudly until his neighbors threaten to file a noise complaint. As someone who has claimed him as your best friend for three years, you know you’re supposed to be used to the smell of the musky cologne that clings onto his sheets and the feeling of his warm body as he leans closer to show you his For You Page. But lately, it seems harder and harder to fight off the warmth that pulses straight to your core whenever he does anything as simple as laugh, making you shiver when his breath tickles the side of your neck.

God, you just really need to get laid properly. You lick your dry lips and try to remind yourself that you have no idea if Mingyu would even be able to satisfy you. Though you do have to admit you couldn’t imagine any situation where the boy isn’t overly generous and eager to please-- No! Just watch the damn TikToks!

“Hey, you good?” Mingyu suddenly asks, nudging your side. “Why aren’t you laughing? ‘His package needs to come in the fe-mail’! That one’s gold!”

You let out a snort. Leave it to Mingyu to bring you back to reality with one line. Even when you don’t say a word, he knows exactly what you need in a moment, which in this case is a reminder that he’s your very dorky friend. “Shut up, that’s so stupid,” you say, but you can’t help but laugh along with him when it replays.

“Aha, you laughed though.” Satisfied with your response he scrolls down to a video of a girl smiling suggestively into the camera. She points to the caption that says ‘If all the boys that made me cum were in my room with me right now, I would…’ Suddenly, the camera pans and she looks at the screen tiredly. The caption now read as ‘Be alone. Men are trash’.

At this, you bust out with a howl of laughter, clutching at your stomach. It was kind of sad, but it was good to know you weren’t alone in this world. All the while, Mingyu stares at you with an eyebrow raised. Once you calm down, you meet his amused gaze. “What are you looking at?”

“You thought it was that funny, huh? It’s not even that accurate,” he says teasingly.

You roll your eyes. “Um, yeah it is. I’ve never met a man who could make me cum, and clearly many other people can relate. This video has 1.4k likes!”

Mingyu quickly puts his phone down and pouts. “Nu uh! Not all guys are that incompetent!”

“Men are such babies,” you sigh. “They are that incompetent! You know how many dates I went to last semester, right? Not one of them made me cum!”

“Okay, I told you before you even went on those dates that those guys weren’t worth your time.” Mingyu waves his hand dismissively. “For your information, I have made sure that all the ladies that I’ve taken to the bedroom had at least one orgasm. At least!”

“Mingyu, sweetie,” you coo, patting his cheek as if to comfort him. “They were all faking it, because they didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” Right? They all had to have faked it. You try to tell yourself this, try to reign in the last bit of sanity you have before your mind wanders off to anywhere inappropriate.

Your best friend now props himself up so that you could properly see the smirk plastered across his annoyingly chiseled features. “You’re so sure, huh? I bet I could make you cum multiple times. Easily.”

Your mouth falls open in shock. It isn’t uncommon for the two of you to taunt each other like this, but you have also never been in such a vulnerable mood. It’s the type of mood that has your heart racing impossibly fast, the type of mood that has your panties pathetically damp from just one sentence. You blink, trying to regain as much composure as you can. You know it’s too late, though; your imagination is already flashing through scenes of your deepest desires, all being fulfilled by the man in front of you. But Mingyu is only joking, so you do what you can to continue playing along and pretend like you don’t want him to just fuck you into the mattress until you were drooling into his sheets.

“I-I seriously doubt that!” you say, but there is no conviction in your voice. Clearing your throat, you try adding, “Dude, I’ve literally seen you fall down a flight of stairs when you were sober. And we were going up. Kinda hard to imagine that you’ll know how to fuck me to an orgasm when you can’t even walk right.”

Now you’re just lying through your teeth, but you want to hold off the inevitable moment that Mingyu discovers your apparent arousal for as long as possible. The last thing you need right now is for him to laugh in your face.

Mingyu chuckles, then suddenly shifts so that his arms are placed on either side of your head, trapping you underneath him. To his surprise, you do nothing to push him off like you usually do at this point. Still, he doesn’t plan on being the first to back off, so he continues his little game, intent on winning. “See, this is why you can’t find a guy who can satisfy you. You clearly don’t know what to look for.” He leans down until the tip of his nose grazes yours. For good measure, he drops his voice an octave and says, “You’ll be the one who can’t walk right when I’m done with you.”

Perplexingly, his shameless flirting doesn’t make you move as he predicted. Nor does it make you look annoyed. Instead, you look up at him with eyes that are unmistakably glazed over with something he didn’t quite expect to see: pure lust. It immediately sends a rush of blood down to his cock. He blinks. Oh. So this is where the night is going. He only falters for a moment, but he soon flashes a breathtaking smile down at you, his eyes glinting mischievously.

It isn’t like he’s never thought about it before; he had just assumed that once you started calling him your best friend, you were also lowkey telling him that sex was off the table. And it wasn’t like he minded, because he definitely liked being by your side knowing it was fully okay to be himself since you were obligated to love him regardless. Plus there was just something about you that made him want to take care of you and if being your best friend was the only way he could do it, then that had been fine by him. But now that he knows that he can take care of you in another way, in the way that he sometimes found himself yearning for on lonely nights, he is all too eager to break free of the unspoken boundaries between the two of you.

“And what am I looking for?” you whisper.

“It seems like you’re looking for me, baby,” he responds softly, before pressing a kiss where your jaw meets your neck. He slowly drags his lips down the side of your neck, and revels in how it already has you pressing your legs together. “Damn, you weren’t kidding when you said those guys didn’t make you cum, huh? Is that why you’re already so fucking worked up? You want to cum that badly?”

You nod wordlessly, not quite ready for Mingyu to hear the desperate whine that would surely leave your lips as he continues pressing wet kisses along your skin. You opt to simply thread your fingers in his hair and tug hard enough to show your impatience. It seems to trigger something in him; all in an instant, your best friend’s soft lips clash against your own, his tongue easily sliding into your mouth, all the while while his hand reaches down to grab one of your thighs. He squeezes it teasingly before pushing it outwards, which causes the mini skirt you’re wearing to bunch up around your waist, revealing your panties and how they cling to your pussy like a second skin.

“M-mingyu!” you squeak into his lips when you feel his fingers tentatively rub small circles into the wet spot. He nips at your lip harshly as he starts to rub more deliberately, the flimsy fabric of your underwear creating a delicious friction against your clit. “H-hah! Yes, o-oh my god!”

“Fuck, you’re already so wet for me, baby girl,” he chuckles, but he knows he isn’t one to talk while his cock is half hard just from hearing the way you moan his name. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. You’re not leaving this room until your little pussy cums nice and hard on my cock.”

“Ngh!-- yes p-please! Please, Mingyu,” you beg mindlessly. Your eyebrows are scrunched together in concentration. Despite your best friend’s promises, you are still hesitant to hold out any hope for anything more than what you’re accustomed to, so you try to take as much as you can while it lasts. However, in your lustful daze, you had forgotten that if Kim Mingyu is anything, he is a man of his word.

You let out a high-pitched moan when his fingers suddenly grind harsh circles into your clit, more surprised than anything else that he even knew where to find it. “But first,” he says, licking his lips, “you’re going to be a good girl and cum just like this. Right into your filthy little panties. Can you do that for me, baby?”

He takes your drawn out whine as a response, and continues to rub relentlessly over your hardened clit until your legs begin to shake. That’s when he shoves the soaked material of your underwear to the side and pinches the bud. Hard.

He rolls your clit between the pads of his fingertips over and over, sending jolts of electric pleasure all the way to your toes. It causes them to curl, all the while you feel the heat simmering in your lower abdomen finally coil tighter and tighter. “Fuckfuckfuck,” you chant, the words coming out slurred like you’re a teenager who’s gotten drunk from one sip of champagne. “M-mingyu-- mmh! I t-think I’m going to--!”

A loud cry leaves your lips the moment the coil snaps, and you nearly tear up from how much better it feels to finally cum on someone else’s fingers, especially Mingyu’s long, thick digits. He soothingly slides them through your drenched folds, mesmerized by how much wetness now covered his hand. “That’s it, baby,” he encourages. Once your body slumps back into the mattress, he brings his fingers up to see how they glisten in the light. “We’ve barely even started and look at what the mess you’ve already made. You must have been waiting so long for me to fuck you, huh?”

Not even your post-orgasm buzz can keep you from getting irked by Mingyu’s cockiness, which is why you reach your own hand down to squeeze his cock through his jeans. “Seems like I’m not the only one who’s been waiting for this,” you say with a sly grin of your own. He watches you, jaw clenched, as you swiftly pop the button of his pants open and slip your fingers past the waistband of his underwear to take hold of his fully hardened member.

It feels warm and heavy in your palm, which can barely wrap around the girth. You bite your lip, your pussy greedily clenching around nothing at the thought of how good it would stretch you out.

“I should have known you’d be a fucking tease,” Mingyu rasps. His hips buck into your hand involuntarily, and his smile returns when he notices how the movement makes you whimper in anticipation.

There is a beat of silence when you and Mingyu meet eyes before the both of you begin undressing each other as fast as you can, haphazardly tugging off both your shirts, his pants, and your pesky undergarments. Once he’s tossed aside your soiled panties, he immediately presses your thighs apart to get a full view of your sopping cunt. “So pretty,” he mumbles to himself, spreading the lips apart with his fingers. His member throbs at the sight, the tip leaking precum when he sees how your pussy clenches in anticipation. “I bet it’s going to look even prettier when it’s taking my fat cock, don’t you think?”

The two of you watch in awe as Mingyu starts to sink into your entrance, a garbled moan leaving your lips when the tip alone already has you feeling so full. “Mingyu, h-how is-- ooh!-- your d-dick soo-- f-fucking big? A-Ah!” It takes a good while for you to finish your sentence as each of Mingyu’s shallow thrusts leave you gasping for air. By the time he bottoms out, the both of you are panting hard, both engrossed by how snugly his cock fits in your walls.

“Shit, if I had known you’d be this tight, I would have fucked you sooner,” Mingyu groans. He slowly drags his member out of you, letting you feel every inch of him before he surges forward into a feverish pace that already has his bed frame creaking loudly. He is definitely getting a noise complaint from his grumpy neighbors tonight. But seeing you underneath him like this, lips parted and legs spread, definitely makes it difficult to care about anything other than the desire to hear more of your needy cries. “Does it feel good, baby girl? Do you like how my cock fills your little pussy?”

“It fuh--!--ngh, feels s-soo good,” Having already came once, your sensitivity is on overload, and each rough thrust of Mingyu’s hips, each crude slap of his skin against yours, is enough to drive you closer and closer to delirium. “Mmh-- please, Mingyu! F-fuck me so deep!”

“Anything for my little cockslut.” He moves quickly to kneel between your legs, hooking his arms underneath your knees to keep them open as he continues to pound into you. The new position instantly makes you keen loudly, eyes rolling to the back of your head when you feel his member brush against your cervix.

“Fuuuuck,” you sob and clutch at the sheets. His grip on your legs tightens and he angles his hips so that he hits that spot every time, rendering you completely incoherent. You want to beg him to fuck you like this forever, to tell him you’d do anything to feel his cock fuck you open every night, but you can only babble, unable to comprehend anything that isn’t the insatiable thirst burning within you.

“Damn baby, did I fuck you stupid?” Seeing you so drunk on his cock, he wonders how anyone could ever fuck you without wanting to see you cum over and over again. His hair falls over his eyes as he fucks up into you with renewed vigor, his hot skin covered in a light sheen of sweat. He grits his teeth when he feels how tightly your walls grip onto him.“Shit-- you must want me to make you cum again, baby girl. Your little pussy just keeps sucking me in.”

“H-hah, y-yes! Yes, please god, Mingyu, I want to c-cum again. P-please let me cum,” you beg, practically writhing as you pathetically attempt to meet his thrusts. Without any hesitation, Mingyu brings down his thumb and presses it into your swollen clit, causing your body to seize up suddenly. “A-Aah Mingyu! I’m--!” The intensity of your orgasm has your back arching off the mattress, head thrown back in a silent scream. Wave after wave of pleasure continuously washes over you, seemingly unending, unlike any orgasm you ever thought possible.

“That’s right baby girl, get my cock nice and wet,” Mingyu growls. He fucks you through your release as he sloppily chases his own, not too far behind with how your walls are pulsing around him. He makes sure his cock is deep inside you and stills his hips when fills you with his hot cum. “Fuck, this pussy was fucking made for me.”

Just as you think you’ve finally come down from your high, he pulls out of you and he shifts to lower himself to place his mouth on your spent pussy. “M-mingyu!”

You squirm and half-heartedly try to shove his head away, far too sensitive to have his tongue licking into your leaking entrance, but Mingyu is persistent. He pushes your legs to your chest to keep you from squeezing them close, and hums when he tastes the hot mixture of your and his own cum on his lips. The way he slurps and sucks at your folds is absolutely sinful as he eats you out like you’re the most delectable treat. It almost hurts to feel so much ecstasy at once, but it still leaves you mewling for more, unable to get enough of the boy.

Your third orgasm ripples over you when he suddenly scrapes his teeth over your abused clit, and you feel a tear slide down your cheek as you weakly shake against his mouth.

Mingyu is smiling when he pulls away, looking slightly ridiculous with how his lips still glisten with cum. You tiredly slump back into his pillows, eyes already drooping close. “What is it?”

“I told you I could do it~” he says proudly. He goes to grab some tissues from the bedside table so that he could start cleaning you up, giggling all the while. It really is unfair how he could look so cute moments after railing you into another dimension.

You groan. You’re never going to hear the end of this.

#seventeen smut #mingyu smut #seventeen scenarios #mingyu scenarios #mingyu fanfic #svt smut #m:kmg #l:os #g:pwp #listen tumblr it would be fantastic if this worked in the tags the first time #pretty pls

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that-blue-vault-dweller · 4 years ago

Note

the image of curie trying to sneak into the cuddle pile actually made me squee it was so cute! companions cuddling with sole reaction someday? <3

Aww!!! I'm so glad you enjoyed it!!! 🥰 Curie is one of my favorites to write (with my other two favorites being Piper and Cait) so I had quite a bit of fun throwing that in. 😊

Also, I may or may not have given Cait, Piper, and Curie a little extra description than the others, but it was not my fault. I was a victim of circumstance. Cuddling + my favorite girls = me getting description happy 😂😂😂

Thank you so much for this beautiful request! I hope you enjoy! 💙💛

Cait - Is always surprised when it happens. The first few times F!Sole suddenly just is leaning on her, her chin propped on Cait's shoulder as her arms wrap around Cait's middle, Cait is shocked as can be. She is a little stiff with it for the first several times, carefully wrapping a bony arm around F!Sole and sort of just letting her stay where she's at while Cait is frozen in place. However, as she grows more accustomed to it, Cait loosens somewhat and might even quietly signal F!Sole that she wants to cuddle by leaning against her a little more or carefully touching F!Sole's hand or shoulder and just being more touch-oriented in general. She is not much of an initiator, but if she has had a bad day, trusts F!Sole a lot, and F!Sole is lying down or sitting somewhere nearby, Cait will crawl over and just collapse on her best friend, knowing she'll make it better by being there for her unconditionally.

Piper - Absolutely adores the affection. Whenever she sits near F!Sole literally anywhere, F!Sole will just reach over and pull her over so she is leaned against her totally, her head resting against her best friend's chest or shoulder and F!Sole resting her head on Piper's as she just quietly listens to Piper talk. Piper will snuggle closer, never missing a beat as a big grin grows on her face while she yammers on about her day or whatever she has found out. However, if her best friend doesn't start cuddling her when she sits near her, Piper herself will usually initiate it. She'll just suddenly squish against F!Sole, completely unannounced as she carries on as if nothing happened, her arm tightly wrapped around her. If F!Sole is lying down anywhere, Piper takes that as a pure invitation to just flop down on top of her and be an aggravating little turd. But Piper knows her best friend secretly loves to be close with her found family and Piper is definitely no exception to the rule.

Curie - Is positively as happy as can be when F!Sole cuddles with her. When F!Sole first reaches her arm around Curie's neck and pulls her near so that her head is underneath F!Sole's chin and Curie is practically lying on her, Curie is practically popping with excitement and pure happiness. She loves all of the new sensations of actually being able to feel things when people touch her, and to be so near to someone that means so much to her is a true gift. When Curie finds out that F!Sole loves to cuddle with her friends, Curie has no problem springing impromptu cuddles on her. If F!Sole is lying down, Curie will sneak over and cuddle closely to her until F!Sole wraps her arms around her. Even if F!Sole is standing, she's not off-limits, and Curie will hurry over and just grab her around from behind, sometimes scaring her half to death if she is not expecting it. However, she takes it well, knowing that the girl is just excited to show her friend affection.

MacCready - Is pretty uncomfortable but finds it to be sort of nice. He never particularly wants to sit there very long with her but he usually lets her cuddle him for as long as she wants until he gets so uncomfortable that the only excuse he can think of is that he absolutely has to use the bathroom. She has since learned to release him before he gets to that point, understanding and respecting his boundaries. He never initiates cuddles, and he would honestly be fine with just occasional hugs since they do not make him feel quite as awkward.

Deacon - Is really squirmy and it does not last too long. He is not overly comfortable with cuddling or any extended contact, and it usually consists of the two of them sitting on a couch together and she just randomly throws her arm around his middle and leans her head against his shoulder. He sort of awkwardly pats her back and lets his hand rest there uncomfortably. He just wants to get away as soon as he possibly can without hurting her feelings in the process. Needless to say, he is definitely not an initiator and he honestly is not going to find her just so she can grab onto him. He cares about her in his own way, but touchy-feely stuff is not his thing.

Codsworth - Is very happy when she tries to cuddle him. It usually is more like a really extended hug, but he very much appreciates her effort even if he cannot truly feel the contact. He loves the sentiment and it lets him know that she truly sees him as family. And that is the greatest gift of all. As for initiation, he tries to in his own extremely strange way. He will usually reach a pincer around her, and she gets the message, quickly hugging him tightly. It just feels nice to him to see evident proof that she feels so much affection for him.

Hancock - Loves every single minute of it, and is not ashamed to say so. As soon as she does it, he is surprised, but he returns the affection quickly, asking her what got into her today. But other than that, he just happily holds her, grinning widely in spite of himself. He will not usually initiate it, but he has plenty of ways of trying to trick her into initiating it herself. If she's sad, then he says that he read somewhere in a Pre-War book that cuddling can raise serotonin levels. She usually just chuckles in reply to him before taking advantage of his offer. It always makes him very happy to just hug her tightly and not let go, feeling her warmth against him.

Danse - Does not know what to do, but secretly loves it to death and longs for more of it. Whenever she springs it on him out of nowhere the first few times, he is shocked and almost frozen, but he reacts soon enough and slowly brings his arms around her. He does not know what he is doing, but he knows that he absolutely loves the feeling of her actually wanting to be close with him and show that she cares in such a sweet way. It is a tenderness that he has never really experienced, and he just encloses her in his arms totally and enjoys it. He is never going to initiate it, worrying that he is imposing or something, but he openly welcomes it whenever F!Sole initiates. After finding out about his true identity, he usually wordlessly and unintentionally clues F!Sole in that he needs cuddles when he looks so serious and perturbed.

Preston - Enjoys it quite a bit, but it shocks him when she first does it. However, he does not have a problem reciprocating by putting an arm around her carefully. He is happy as can be when he is receiving affection like this, and it makes him feel like he actually matters to someone in a way that is more than just as a respected officer. He does not ever initiate it since he is sort of a bit too shy and uncertain to do so. However, he will ask for it very occasionally and very sheepishly, really hoping that she will not turn him down. He is always very pleased when she welcomes him with open arms.

Valentine - Honestly is terribly shocked, but he does enjoy it. When it first happens, he just sort of wraps an arm around her and pats her on the back kindly, expecting her to only hug him for a moment, but when she just snuggles closer and rest her head on his shoulder, he is very surprised. After all, his body is not exactly like that of humans and cannot be comfortable to lean against. But she seems to have no problem with that. He would never initiate cuddling, but he is always open to it if she wants to. He does not want to push her into anything, and he definitely does not want her to feel like she has to do it. Even if he does enjoy it greatly.

X6-88 - Is completely standoffish about it, but for some reason finds that a tiny piece of him actually likes it. Needless to say, he absolutely hates that part of him. When she first starts to spring these sorts of things on him, he insists that they need to find something more constructive to do. However, as time goes on, he insists much less and mostly retains complete silence, just letting her hold onto him but not really reciprocating. He would never initiate this sort of thing directly, but the closest he will get to it is sitting down on the same couch she is sitting on and just staying quiet in hopes that she will do it. She soon realizes what this gesture means, and she knows that he wants cuddles when he does that. She finds it quite adorable to be honest.

Dogmeat - Is absolutely thrilled any time she does it. Whenever she calls him over, giving him lots of pets before just hugging him close, he is wagging all over, panting happily and snuffling at her face. In fact, he oftentimes is the one initiating the cuddles, hurrying over to give her lots of kisses before trying to fit into her lap even though he is much too big for it. Literally every time that she is sleeping, he is either lying right next to her or on top of her. He is literally the best cuddle buddy ever because he is up for it twenty-four seven.

Strong - Absolutely hates it and will literally get up and walk away if she starts trying to do it. He will also fuss about it for a really long time, and makes a special note to bring it up in front of her other friends just to try to embarrass her and keep her from doing it ever again. However, when he least expects it, she will do it again to try to get him into the habit of letting her do it. Plus, she also thought it was kind of funny how he fussed constantly and let such a silly thing get to him.

Maxson - Is extremely uncomfortable with it, and believes that it is even somewhat inappropriate. However, he does secretly like it, and that feeling nags at him. He is usually significantly more chill about it if she initiates such a thing away from others, but he is still very uncomfortable. He is not in the least accustomed to such things, and he is one of those people that had originally thought this sort of thing was for either little kids or for people in love. But when he realizes that she is just showing she cares in a beautiful deeper than friendship but not at all romantic sort of way, he warms to it a little more. He will never initiate it, but he is eventually simply okay with it and lets her do as she wishes as long as absolutely no one can see them.

Sturges - Does not mind it at all, and actually likes it somewhat. It makes him a little uncomfortable the first few times she does it, but he soon realizes that it's her way of showing him that she cares about him. He is slightly self-conscious of how greasy and sweaty he often is, but since she does not seem to mind it, he just goes with it. He does not initiate it ever because he considers it to be the gentlemanly thing to do to let her decide if she wants to cuddle or not.

Glory - Is extremely uncomfortable and dangerously close to shoving F!Sole off when it first happens. However, she slowly figures out that it feels really nice to have someone's arms around her when the person is someone that she trusts as much as F!Sole. She is never fully comfortable with it, but she definitely craves it to a degree and will very hesitantly sort of bump F!Sole's shoulder to let her know that she would appreciate some love right about then. Especially if she has had a particularly difficult time with a mission or she is just feeling less than her usual self.

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elizabeethan · 4 years ago

Text

The Swan and her Handler

Emma Swan was cursed, and the only way to break it is with True Love's Kiss. Try breaking a curse with True Love's Kiss when you're a damn swan.

Yes, it's true, I've written a CS AU based on Walnut the Crane, a crane who fell in love with her handler. I'm ashamed at how idiotic this is. It’s by far the dumbest thing I've ever written in all my life. It’s nothing more than crack written in about an hour, un-betaed and barely edited. Sorry, and you’re welcome.

Rated T for language

~2000 words

Read my other stuff

Read on Ao3

These damn idiots can’t get anything right. It was bad enough when Emma showed up on their doorstep with perfectly clear care instructions that were completely ignored, but now they keep trying to get her to reproduce as if she’s some kind of zoo animal.

Of course, given her current living situation, it does make at least a tiny bit of sense.

Ever since the curse, Emma has been stuck in a wildlife refuge and has been unable to get any of her stupid caretakers to figure out how to help her. She knows exactly what she needs, but unfortunately, no one here speaks swan and she can’t exactly hold a pen. Her care instructions were translated upon her transformation, so the one thing that could have helped her now looks like chicken-- er, swan scratch.

“She needs a mate,” one of the jack asses points out. “She’ll probably want to mate for life.”

True, she thinks, although, not with any of the stinky fluff balls you have sent my way.

First it was Neal. He tried to mate with her, so she killed him. Last week, they put Walsh in her enclosure, and she pecked at him violently until they took pity on him and sent him to the medical unit.

Although today seems different, because her newest caretaker has shown up, and she realizes that he just might be exactly what she’s been looking for.

Emma Swan, unfortunately very appropriately named, requires a mate who can break her curse, True Loves Kiss the only thing that can bring her back to her truest form as a human adult woman. And when the new dark haired, stunning eyed veterinarian comes strutting into her enclosure, she hurries towards him to get a closer look at his name tag.

He jumps away, making some comment about her being fiery , and she blushes, squawking at him as she tries to get closer. Killian , it reads, and if she had lips and not a bill, she would smile.

“We think she’s depressed,” the stupid one with the big eyes says. “She’s killed every mate we’ve tried to pair her with.”

Good, she thinks. I must have done more damage on Walsh than I initially thought.

“You’re just misunderstood, aren’t you, love?” the angel-man asks, making her squawk in agreement. She thinks she could make this quick, this man obviously understanding her horrible twist of fate, so she lunges for him once more, trying hard to kiss his hand and hoping beyond hope that it will transform her back into the woman she's supposed to be. No more feathers, she prays.

He exclaims again, jumping and complaining of his hand hurting as she pecks him, so she rolls her eyes and squawks angrily. “Alright, darling,” he says with his hands up, his smooth, accented voice making her heart flutter inside her chest. Her breast? She knows very little about swan anatomy, despite having been turned into one. “Perhaps she’s stressed about her environment. Have you tried giving her a dark, quiet place to nest?”

“Not yet,” the dumbass admits.

The handsome one, Killian, a name she could get used to rolling off of her tongue, steps away from her, so she hurriedly follows. “Perhaps here in this corner will do.”

I would love to spend time in a dark corner with you, she thinks, giving the man what she hopes is a salacious smirk. She watches appreciatively as he sits down, crossing his legs as he starts to fiddle with some sticks as if she would be interested in them. Rather than helping him to make a nest out of the twigs and leaves, she plops herself right in his lap, nestling herself into his crossed legs and gazing up at his beautiful features, earning a smile from him.

“There we are, love,” he says happily, clearly surprised that she chose to plant herself upon him, although he shouldn't be. Just look at him, for god’s sake. “Comfortable?”

She squawks loudly, making him cringe, then fluffs her feathers in an attempt to gussy herself up for him. If she’s going to earn True Love’s Kiss from this perfect specimen, she’s going to have to work for it. The man chuckles as he looks down at her-- is he gazing? -- and lifts his hand slowly, placing a finger gently upon the top of her head and petting back down her neck, sending a chill down her spine, at least she thinks it’s her spine. She pushes her head towards him again, demanding more attention in an effort to get him to fall for her. It shouldn’t take long; she’s very enchanting.

“She’s never been this calm,” the dumb one says, making her snap her head towards him with a glare, shouting at him in disapproval. Killian shushes her soothingly, his finger softly stroking along her stupid feathers once more and making her shut her eyes.

“She just needed a bit of attention, it seems.”

“We’d best be careful,” someone else says, the bookworm who always thinks she knows everything about swan science. Of course, she probably knows more than Swan Emma. “We wouldn’t want her to imprint on you ,” she seems to joke.

“That’s quite alright, isn’t it love?” he asks her, essentially giving her permission to fall in love with this handsome bastard.

He comes by a few times a week for the next several months, each time sitting with her in her tiny, dirty nest and not seeming to care that his pants get soiled. She’s always careful to do her business elsewhere, making sure that her prince can sit in comfort when he arrives. She gets angry with him when he brings someone new, a sickly looking male named Graham who she assures is not welcome, so Killian gives up trying to get her to mate with someone. For some reason, they're concerned about her procreating, but she can assure everyone that she will not be giving birth to a damn swan baby while she’s under this curse.

One day, when Killian visits near the end of his shift, he’s finally alone, leaving behind the dumb one and the book worm and giving her all of the attention she desires as his strong hand softly pets along her soft feathers. She can’t wait to get rid of these stupid feathers.

“You’re quite funny,” he remarks as the sun starts to set. “Unlike any swan I’ve ever met.”

She squawks at him-- I’m not a damn swan-- and he smiles. “Quire the personality. It always seems like you’re trying to communicate with me.”

Yes, you stupid handsome man, that’s exactly right! She tries to nod, lifting and dropping her head in quick succession and making the beauty laugh. She nudges her head against his hand in demand of more pets.

“What is it you want me to know, darling?” he asks gently, his voice soft and soothing and deep.

She groans, a sound that comes out like a pained cry, and his face shifts. “Are you alright, love?”

In pure frustration, Emma drops her head against the man’s chest, likely assaulting him with how badly she smells like bird shit, and he chuckles again, letting his hand run along her feathers some more. “There, there. I know life as a swan must be difficult. All you seem to want is for someone to listen.”

She looks up, hoping that her expression conveys her complete and utter irritation at the fact that he’s literally hitting the nail on the head and yet he has no idea.

“Such a personality,” he says again. “I’ve got to head home now, love. I’m looking forward to having Chinese for dinner. Perhaps I'll bring you an eggroll tomorrow, or is that insensitive?”

She squawks, half because she’s laughing, and half because she would quite literally kill another potential mate for an eggroll. Wanting to beg him not to go, she gives him her best sad face through her inability to emote, and nestles her head against his palm one more time.

“I’ll sneak you one, love,” he laughs, and as he does, he finally, finally , leans down towards her, and plants his stupid, dumb, lucious lips upon the top of her stinky bird head.

Cramps start to run through her whole stupid bird body, the same ones she felt when she was cursed on Halloween decades ago. He stands, not seeming to notice her pain and discomfort until he’s a few steps away, and he turns back around. “Swan, are you alright?” he asks, as if she could answer, and she shouts back at him wordlessly.

She praises whatever gods might be listening as she feels things start to change, her feathers shedding as her skin is exposed to the chilly fall air. The webbing between her toes retracts, her legs turning flesh colored rather than that horrifying orange. Her bill turns back into her nose and mouth, preparing her to smooch her savior rather than peck at him. Finally, she’s back!

“Bloody fucking hell,” Killian breathes as he stares on, Emma transforming back into her old self, laying in a heap on the ground as she brushes off the dirt and twigs and leaves.

“You did it,” she praises before clearing her throat, raw from misuse after all these years. She grins at him as she’s been wanting to since they met, and is met with a horrified, shocked look on his face. His jaw is gaping, his eyes wide as they catch the light of the setting sun. “I knew you would.”

“What the fuck?”

“You broke the curse,” she says happily, standing up and exposing her nude form to him, cursing the lack of feathers although she vowed she never would. Immediately, he removes his jacket, despite his shock still clearly running through him, and hands it to her.

“I did what now?”

“I was cursed. Why do you think I was such a miserable swan?”

He’s looking around, his mouth snapping shut and dropping open in succession as he tries to process the fact that there was a swan in the enclosure just a second ago, and now there’s a frankly beautiful, naked woman standing before him. “You were cursed,” he says doubtfully.

“Yes, I was. An evil witch cursed me on Halloween decades ago and I've been stuck in that infernal bird form ever since. All I needed was True Love’s Kiss to break it, but imaging trying to fall in love with someone as a damn bird.”

“So you… you fell in love… with me…?”

“Obviously,” she smiles, taking a step towards him on shaky legs, tripping and falling into his waiting arms as he catches her, careful not to grope her, although she isn’t sure she would mind. “And you broke the curse, so… Do I have to tell you what that means?”

“I-- I’m having a lot of trouble processing the fact that I've evidently been in love with a swan for months.”

“Well, my name is Emma Swan, so you can be in love with a Swan for the rest of your life, if you’d like.”

“Emma,” he murmurs, staring into her eyes and smiling when he seems to recognize her. She’s never been able to see herself in the mirror, because the book worm was worried she would attack it, but based on the way he’s staring, she would guess that the evil witch let her keep her eyes. “Do you know it just happens to be Halloween tonight?”

“Kismet,” she says softly, gazing up at him. He lifts his hand like he did while she was planted in his lap, and she’s finally able to feel his calloused finger along the skin of her cheek, then of her neck, just as he had done before.

“Aye,” he agrees. “The spirit of the holiday does make this whole thing a bit easier to accept.”

“Yeah,” she says dismissively. “Now take me home. I was promised an eggroll and I haven't eaten anything but grass and stale bread in almost thirty years.”

~~~~

Tagging (with apologies):

@courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay @xsajx @itsfridaysomewhere @alexa-fangirl-forever @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @qualitycoffeethings @rapunzelsghosts @spaceconveyor @badcats-andmice @batana54 @sailtoafarawayland @deckerstarblanche @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @pirateprincessofpizza @captainswan21 @hookedmom @lostintheskyfaraway @undercaffinatednightmare @strangestarlighttree

#Captain Swan #Captain swan fanfic #cs fanfic #the swan and her handler #cs ff #the swan ff #cs crack #crack fic

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mysterystarz · 4 years ago

Text

the romance checklist:

summary: a chance meeting with kageyama has you striking up a bet to see if one of you could fall in love with the other before the year was up. cue the romance checklist, a piece of paper that molded your fate and his.

pairing: kageyama tobio x g!n reader

word count: 3.2k

genres + themes: literally pure fluff, reader is a first-year karasuno student, reader is also kind of a romantic

warnings: none

a/n: so this is my first time writing for kageyama and i know he's probably pretty out of character, so my apologies!! this was inspired off some headcannons i wrote for one of my irl friends, and this wiki-how article which i used to structure the actual checklist! to all my lovely kags simps, this is for you <3 (also to all the people who hate angst, you lucked out bc i was about to add an angst part but got lazy)

You had never thought a trip to the vending machine could be so eventful.

It had been lunch break, and you found yourself wandering towards the machine, money in hand as your eyes trailed the snacks. It had become routine to sneak away during lunch hours for this, enjoying the fresh autumn breeze as you bought your snacks. It had always given you time to think and the time to recompose yourself when you didn’t have a clue what to do.

Usually it also provided you with time alone.

That wasn’t the case today though. Standing in front of the vending machines was Kageyama Tobio, frantically pushing the button for milk with a grumpy sort of scowl on his face. From the distance you stood, you could make out his height and the way he tapped his foot continuously, as if he didn’t have the time to wait for the milk to be dispensed from the spot.

Strolling up to the spot, you stood silently next to him, watching the way he retrieved the milk from the slot wordlessly as he walked away, not even a glance in your direction.

You knew full well who he was. In fact, you could barely walk through the halls of school without hearing a murmur about the prodigy setter and his closed off ways. The girls found him intriguing from afar, and while they never dared to approach him, they all wanted to.

You hadn’t really understood what they saw in him. He was average...if not below that in academics, and he seemed to dedicate most of his time to volleyball, not caring much for other people. He didn’t seem to have many friends, and was almost always grumpy.

All of this should’ve been reason enough to avoid him, and yet you couldn’t help but be intrigued. There was something about him that was different. You just needed to find out what that was.

The next day came around, and sure enough, he stood at the machine again, toe-tapping as his milk was dispensed from the slot. This time his eyes scanned the courtyard as if he was seeking something before they finally landed on you.

You weren’t prepared for the full impact of his gaze. It was calculated and pointed, with some sort of intent that was expressed in every inch of those dark blue eyes. You weren’t put off by it.

In fact, it was charming in its own way.

“Are you looking for something Kageyama?” You asked as you walked towards him, pulling a few yen out of your pocket. “You’re staring.”

“I’m not.” He deadpanned, his eyes still trained on you as you selected a snack from the machine’s buttons. “I see you everywhere. Who are you?”

You hadn’t expected that. You knew he was observant...when it came to volleyball specifically, but never realized how it translated anywhere else. “I’m Y/L/N Y/N.”

You weren’t sure what else to say to him. Gently grabbing your snack, you politely nodded at him before leaving him behind, the thoughts rapidly accumulating in your brain. Did he notice you the entire time? Why did he ask? Did he know something? Was he planning to use you as some example to the other girls who wanted to know him?

You wish you had an answer.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t think of any.

It had been two weeks since you had met Kageyama by the vending machines. It had now become routine to expect him there during your lunch breaks, milk box in hand as he regarded your very presence with something that felt a whole lot like curiosity. Every now and then he’d offer commentary on the mundane happenings of Karasuno, or ask about you, but you weren’t sure how you could hold a conversation with just these things.

“Kageyama.” You nodded, strolling towards the machine as you always did. He whipped around almost immediately, offering a solemn nod in return, clutching his milk box.

“Y/L/N.” He murmured, taking a sip of his box.

“Have you ever thought about love?” You found yourself asking, internally screaming at the word choice. Great, now he was going to think that you were some crazy person.

“I think so…?.” Was what he offered in response. His features seemed to soften at this question though as he scrunched his brows in thought. “What type of love?”

You raised a brow at him in question. “Kageyama...what type of love are you talking about?”

“Well...I love volleyball and milk.” He shrugged. “That counts.”

“That...wasn’t the type I was referring to.” You said, suppressing the laughter that bubbled into your chest. “I was talking about the other kind.”

“The other kind is stupid.” Kageyama replied instantaneously. “There’s nothing special to it.”

You felt confusion seep into your system before you quieted it, letting your mind wander. With Kageyama’s status, you assumed that he’d at least thought of the concept at least once, although it seemed that he’d never even pondered the idea altogether!

“You’d have to feel it to come to that conclusion,” you countered, “Have you?”

“No,” he scoffed, “It’s still stupid.”

“Why?” You asked, feeling the curiosity surface. “Any specific reason?”

“Why would anyone want to dedicate all their time to another person?” Kageyama asked straight back, his gaze unwavering. “I just don’t see the point.”

You stared back at him, feeling the challenge bubble in your veins. “I bet...I can make you fall in love with someone by the end of the school year.”

At that moment, the boy in front of you looked thoroughly surprised, throwing his empty milk box at the garbage can nearby. He seemed speechless to some extent, as if he wasn’t able to process the words that had just left your mouth.

“And what happens if you can’t?” He asked, hesitantly bringing his gaze to your face. “What then?”

“I’ll buy you milk for a whole month.” You placed your hands on your hip as you kept your glare firm. “I stick to that.”

“Okay then,” he sighed, “Game on.”

With a shake of your hands, you cemented your fate.

You would win that bet. That much was certain.

“What’s this Y/L/N?” Kageyama asked, pointing at the piece of paper you held at him. “How are you going to win a bet with this?”

The two of them stood in the courtyard of Karasuno, the fresh autumn breeze rippling the paper you held in your hand. It had been a good day so far, and Kageyama had surprisingly stuck to his resolve, meeting you at the vending machine when he could’ve easily avoided you.

It was always more fun to challenge a competent opponent.

“This is the romance checklist.” You grinned proudly. “This has all the things we need to get you to fall in love.”

“How is it fair if you don’t do the checklist’s things too?”

“Well, that’s why I’m doing them with you.” You responded, already anticipating these types of questions. “I drafted the checklist off of the things I’ve observed over the years that should totally lead to feelings of love!”

“Whatever.” Kageyama said, his blue eyes scanning the paper’s contents. “How do you plan to do this?”

“We follow the steps.” You nodded. “Since I’m doing this with you, it’ll be foolproof.”

“Y/L/N...what if we competed against each other?” He mumbled. “We follow the checklist and use it against each other. Whoever falls in love first loses.”

“Do you really want to risk that?” You smirked, “That’s a bold move you’re making.”

Kageyama stood up straighter at this, the challenge burning deep in his eyes. “I’m going to win, so it won’t be an issue.”

“Suit yourself,” you grinned. “I’ll be winning this anyways.”

He simply smirked as he looked down at the paper, the promise of a challenge fresh and bright between them.

STEP ONE: MEET SOMEONE

After a long time, you had finally gotten some free time away from schoolwork and the obligations that pinned you down. It was a rare occurrence with the amount of pressure that the college prep class placed on you, and you intended to make the most of it.

You found yourself on the pathway of a cafe you used to frequent in the summer with your friends. It had always been a place to collect your thoughts and let your worries float away with every sip of one of the immaculately crafted beverages that they offered there. You felt your lips twitch in an involuntary smile at the memories.

“Y/L/N?” You heard a voice call out, a shocking contrast to the normal chattering you heard within the shop. Looking up, you were met with Kageyama’s eyes, narrowed and confused as you sat at the table frozen. “What are you here for?”

“It's a break for me,” you shrugged, “I come here all the time. I haven’t seen you here before.”

“They have good drinks,” Kageyama replied bluntly. A few beats of silence passed between them, with neither of them knowing what to add to the conversation.

“You can sit down with me.” You offered, gesturing to the empty seat across from you. “The more the merrier.”

He didn’t question this as he slid into the seat, fingers drumming on the table as he looked at the window. From your point of view, it was almost picturesque the way he managed to appear. His blue eyes were focused on the trees outside, and his posture was ever so casual and relaxed as he sat there, as if he had no other care in the world.

It was unfair how model-like he managed to appear, even despite the fact he wasn’t trying.

Ah. Perhaps this is what the girls at school noticed.

Once the drinks arrived at your table, the two of them drank in comfortable silence, admiring the flavors on their tongues as their surroundings continued on as normal. You didn’t feel the need to contribute anything to the silence, finding it calming in its own right.

“So Kageyama, are you feeling anything yet?” You teased, setting down your half-empty cup.

“No.” He admitted, setting down his drink as well. “I am supposed to?”

“Well technically no, but it’d be good if you did.” You chuckled, finding amusement in the cluelessness of his ways. “Step one of the romance checklist: meet somebody.”

“We already met though.” He countered, “How does this count as anything?”

“Well, we just encountered each other out of nowhere.” You smiled, “That counts as a meeting in my book.”

He wrapped his mind around this information, nodding solemnly. “I guess so then. I still don’t feel anything.”

“Neither do I.” You said, willing the slight butterflies in your stomach to subside. It was really nothing. This was simply a chance meeting, nothing more than luck and fate that had you encounter each other today of all days.

You shouldn’t have been affected this quickly. You felt far too warm, far too...fuzzy, for a meeting of chance. It was simply far too intimate.

Well, it seemed that Kageyama had gotten the one upon you at this stage.

You’d beat him next time. You knew you would.

STEP TWO: FLIRT

“You look good today Kags,” you smirked, feeling a sense of satisfaction creep up in your veins at his flushed cheeks,

Over the course of the weeks spent together, you had been able to learn more about the mysterious boy in front of you and had even formed a friendship of sorts. For starters, he was flustered very easily, which is why you decided to make your move so early in the morning.

“I look like how I do every day, dumbass!” He growled, the red deepening in his cheeks when you merely winked in response.

Ah yes. He tended to insult those he befriended. That was yet another endearing thing about the boy in front of you.

“No, something is different today,” you commented, “Did you do something with your hair?”

“No,” he frowned, the flush never subsiding from his cheeks. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I’m just saying genuine things you know.” You laughed, punching his shoulder casually. “Besides, I think I’m succeeding so far.”

“Succeeding? This is that stupid checklist again, isn’t it?” He sighed. “Step two: flirting. What is the point of this again?”

“It’s to show interest.” You remarked. “Besides, if you want me to fall for you, you’re going to at least have to act like you’re interested in me. I know it’s working on you so far.”

“No it’s not!” He yelled, although the defense was half-hearted. You knew he was merely putting up a front. You could tell it from his body posture alone.

You had the upper hand right now.

You waved him goodbye as you entered the Karasuno grounds, climbing the stairs to reach your class as he walked in the opposite direction. Even if you had the upper hand right now, you knew that you had to be on-guard the rest of the day.

If there was one thing you knew very well in the time you had spent with Kageyama, it was that he was extremely competitive. There was no way he’d ever go down without a fierce fight, especially when a month’s worth of milk was on the line.

You had been absolutely right to doubt him.

When lunchtime rolled around, he stood at the vending machine like he always did, leaning against it casually as he waited for you, his focus placed on the entrance.

The first thing you noticed was how calm he was. There was none of his usual frantic energy or the practiced insults that you threw back at one another. He simply stood there, content, as he watched you make your entrance.

The second thing you noticed was how an unconscious smile crept onto his face when you waved at him and slipped away the minute your eyes darted to his mouth. He sipped his milk casually, although you knew that internally, he was definitely scheming.

He could be a gremlin if left untapped.

You were about to purchase your snack in silence, thinking about all the ways he could win against you when you felt his hand on your shoulder. Turning around, you saw him holding out a container of your favorite snack, handing it to you wordlessly.

What?

“I thought I would get it today,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his milk. “You’ve bought me milk sometimes. It’s only fair.”

He didn’t consider it much of a big deal, but you felt your heart begin to accelerate in its pace at the thoughts that came flying into your head.

He had paid attention to your favorite snack? He had actually cared about when you bought him milk?

He noticed all of this?

“You...have a nice smile.” He mumbled, a flush rising onto his cheeks once again. You felt yourself fluster a bit at the compliment, not used to hearing it that often.

“Uhhh thanks.” You exhaled, not knowing how to respond to such an out-of-the-blue remark. “Your smile looks a lot like the Cheshire cat you know.”

For a moment his face was contorted into an expression of horror before he laughed a bit, the low chuckles sending heat straight to your cheeks.

Damn it. His laugh was adorable.

It was a low chiming sound, but it still managed to uplift your spirits in the brief time that you heard it. It was absolutely perfect.

You’d like to hear it again if you could.

A small smile was on his face as he looked to the ground, thinking about something while you took the time to really look at him. Behind the stone exterior, was someone talented, clueless, and amusing in every way you could possibly imagine.

You noticed how his posture mirrored yours, and the way how he smiled when your eyes finally met his own.

Damn it! He got the one-up on you. Again.

STEP THREE: GO ON THRILLING DATES

“Tobio! Let’s go on this one!” You yelled as you dragged him towards the large rollercoaster that caught your eye.

It was a beautiful Saturday with the most perfect weather. Sunny skies met a fresh breeze as you dragged Kageyama around the amusement park you had insisted on going to together. He kept with your quick pace as you went from ride to ride, never once letting go of his hand.

If anything, you were more confused why he didn’t comment on the fact that you had been holding hands that long. Rather he silently followed you from ride to ride, occasionally commenting on how small it looked for them.

From where you stood, the rollercoaster looked positively incredible with the multiple loops and drops in its track. This certainly fit the bill for thrilling. Maybe Kageyama could finally agree to ride this one.

“Y/N, do we really have to do this one?” He asked, his gaze not tearing away from the ride. “Doesn’t it look a bit too small for us?”

“Well if it’s too small, then we can still ride it as a joyride, don’t you think?” You grinned as you shoved him into the line of the coaster. Soon enough, it was your turn as you were ushered into the seats while the employees strapped you and Kageyama into the rollercoaster.

The wait was excruciating, with every second that passed sending a wave of anticipation and adrenaline through your system. Looking to your side, you saw Kageyama’s face, which was composed, even though his fingers drummed rapidly on the bar.

Was he nervous?

Hesitantly, you reached to clasp your hands together, relishing in the feeling of your palm on his as the rollercoaster suddenly began moving, bringing you up the tall lift hill.

“Tobio, are you okay?” You questioned as you neared the top, the grip he had on your hand tightening ever so slightly.

“I’m fine!” He yelled, just as the roller coaster fell over the lift hill, sending them into a plummeting drop.

You felt the exhilarating feeling of soaring as the ride propelled you forward, shouts of glee leaving your mouth ever so often. On the other hand, all you heard from Kageyama was the occasional shout of horror when they encountered yet another drop on the track, the grip he had on your hand deathly tight.

“Tobio! You’re afraid of rollercoasters?!” You shouted as you were guided into a loop.

“No I’m not!” He shouted back, shutting his eyes when he was finally upright again. “They just make me feel like I’m about to die!” When he opened his eyes, they first found yours in a look that was both petrified and fond. “I think I lost the bet!”

“You did what?!” You yelled as the wind rippled in your ears again.

“The bet Y/N! I think I’m in love with you!” He yelled. “I thought I should tell you before we die!”

You felt your heart soar at the words that had just been exchanged, a testament to the budding feelings you had felt for months around him.

“We’re not going to die.” You sighed as the ride finally slowed, feeling exhilarated as you smiled at him. “I love you too.”

Stepping off the rollercoaster, Kageyama was more silent than anything, red flush adorning his cheeks as you massaged soothing circles onto his hand. “We both lost it in the end.” You laughed.

“I think it was worth it,” he chuckled, the beautiful chime, showing you that he meant every word.

taglist (bold cannot be tagged): @moi-bunni @kousukii @littlecatfairy @iwasunshine @kawaii-angelanne @haikyuutothetop @dearkousei @catchmewiddershins @perqabeth @sunarinluvr @elektrosonix @milktyama

reblogs are very appreciated <3

#nova scribbles <3 #kageyama x reader #hq kageyama #hihqnetwork #kageyama fluff #tobio headcanons #tobio scenarios #kegayama tobio #tobio x reader #tobio x y/n #kageyama x y/n #reader x haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyu imagines #haikyuu #tobio fluff

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l0vegl0wsinthedark · 4 years ago

Text

Holding Hands

Just dipping my toe into the "faking a relationship for a holiday party" trope. (And blame @shealwaysreads for this cause she was like do it and so I did it.)

This is unbeta’d. Please be gentle with me.

Draco waited. The silence that had fallen a couple of minutes ago was still loud. The fire in the hearth kept spitting threateningly instead of just crackling quietly and sweetly like it should. The fairy lights around the tree twinkled gently, slowly, throwing golden patterns over Potter's skin, his dark hair.

They were sat across from each other in front of the hearth, Draco in his armchair upholstered in silver-grey velvet, and Potter in the plushy green armchair he had conjured when he'd arrived. Their drinks were sitting on the spindly-legged table between them.

Potter looked very politely confused, a tiny smile on his face, a thin line between his brows. He was leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees, his long, strong fingers clasped together neatly, his full attention focused on Draco. He looked...like he was waiting for Draco to finish speaking, to...explain.

Draco licked his lips and tilted his head a bit. "Erm...?"

Potter's smile widened a bit. "Yes?" he said eagerly. Draco blinked and shook his head imperceptibly. Potter's confusion deepened. "I'm...waiting for you to...you know--" he waved his hand vaguely and then grinned, "--laugh," he finally said, a tad lamely.

Draco frowned. "What's funny?"

Potter's mouth fell open on a stupid gape. "I mean... I thought..." He pushed his glasses up his nose and then scratched the back of his neck. "So, what was it you were saying? What are you asking me?"

"Did you not hear me, or are you feigning stupidity?" Draco asked coldly.

Potter frowned, bristling a bit. "I heard you, Draco, and I feel like you're taking the mickey."

"I'm doing no such thing. I explained my predicament and asked you a simple yes or no question. Would you be so kind as to grace me with an answer?"

Potter shook his head irritably. "Stop talking like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like... Like a fucking ponce. That's how you used to speak to me." Draco just looked at him. "Can you just be normal, please?" Potter snapped.

Draco spread his hands out. "I am being normal."

"Uh huh." Potter was still frowning. "So, you're saying--" He broke off and shifted in his seat, straightening up. "So, you're saying..." Trailing off, he just sat there looking like a fucking idiot. "What are you saying?" he finally asked.

Draco picked up his brandy and took a sip before leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs, lifting his chin high. "Fine. I will ask you again. Since you're a bloody troglodyte, apparently." He had to gather the will and courage all over again to repeat himself. "Will you accompany me to my parents' Christmas party as my boyf- partner? Meaning, they'll think you're my partner. We’ll just have to pretend."

"You...said something before that earlier."

"Oh. Yes. Well, when my mother asked me if you and I are lovers, after she read that article about us in the Prophet, I simply said yes." He'd managed to say it without displaying any emotion the first time. Now, however, Draco could feel heat rising up his neck and face.

Potter was looking particularly stupid as he stared with his mouth open. "Your parents think we're dating?" Draco nodded. "And they want to...meet me?"

Draco brushed imaginary lint off his trousers. "If you consent."

Potter leaned back, slumping in his chair, knees spreading, his arms hanging over the sides of the chair. He blew out a long breath with a whooshing sound, his lips very pink as they formed an 'o'. Then, rather abruptly, he chuckled, rubbing his face and making his glasses jump onto his forehead.

"Which bit did you find amusing?" asked Draco with feigned politeness.

"The whole thing."

"Oh?"

"Draco," Potter said on a laugh, "can you stop talking like that, please? It's fucking hilarious right now. Especially because that's not how one talks to their 'lover'."

Draco knew he was probably purple in the face by now. It was embarrassing. He ought to have told Potter right after he'd confirmed the rumours to his parents. They'd have laughed about it, and then asking him to go to this fucking party now wouldn't be such a fucking task.

Because they're friends. Close friends even. And Potter was probably going to say yes. He never denied Draco anything. He was always indulging Draco; taking care of Draco. Siding with Draco when that fucking Weasel ragged him. Always promoting Draco's label in his interviews, endorsing his little boutique. Trusting Draco enough let him dress him for important events even though Draco knew Potter had the most basic, unadventurous sense of fashion.

Draco wanted to roll his eyes. Potter was the softest, most indulgent person and he was probably going to say yes. But that didn't make any of this any easier. Because obviously Potter thought it was funny that the two of them might be lovers. He found this whole thing really amusing.

There was a thin strain of hurt somewhere in Draco's chest but he ignored it.

"So how long before you say yes like we both know you're going to?" Draco drawled.

Potter grinned widely. "What am I going to be wearing?"

The Manor was an absolute wonder to behold. Draco was sure even Hogwarts was never this heavily decorated for the holidays. Fairy lights, glittering icicles, ice sculptures, wreaths, ostentatiously decorated Christmas trees, more lights - the whole house, inside and out, was dripping in red, green, gold and white.

Potter stared around in silence, his expression very serious. He was dutifully holding Draco's hand (just like a lover might) and was taking in the sight of the gigantic ballroom they were in, guests milling about sipping golden champagne from crystal flutes, house-elves trotting around between people's knees holding up trays of hors d'oeuvres; the four gigantic, glittering Christmas trees in each corner of the room, the ice sculpture of a delicately carved fairy, her wings spread, in the centre of the room, sparkling fairy dust falling from her hand and disappearing mid-air.

To Draco this was just about normal, if a tad bit overdone (for the enjoyment of the guest of honour he'd brought along with him, he supposed), but he still blushed in embarrassment when he looked around with Potter's eyes; he was probably convinced now that his parents were pretentious or something. Feeling a bit timid, he glanced sideways at Potter.

He was looking very, very handsome tonight. He had on robes of deep, royal violet - dark enough to nearly pass off as black - with intricate gold embroidery that Draco had spent hours working on himself. He'd let Draco clip a matching cape, embroidered and lined along the hem with fur, onto his shoulders with matching brooches that glittered under the light of what had to be at least a thousand candles hovering above them. He'd made a decent attempt at taming his hair - not a successful attempt, but Draco gave him credit for trying anyway. He'd switched his usual clunky glasses out for the vision correcting spells that Draco knew he hated but it meant his eyes were shining so bright and green that it made Draco's stomach clench a bit with something he’d always staunchly ignored.

Then, his parents spotted them. Lucius was in black as usual - the material expensive, but still black - and Narcissa looked decades younger than she was in robes of pale lavender and silver. Draco smiled as she beamed at them, gliding over alongside her husband.

"Darling." She feathered her lips over Draco's cheek. "Fashionably late, I see. And fashionably dressed," she added, turning to Potter and holding out her hand, her smile small but her eyes warm.

Potter bent over her hand and brushed his lips over the back of her hand briefly - just like Draco had instructed him to - before straightening up and smiling politely. "Thank you for inviting me to your wonderful party, Mrs. Malfoy."

"You are very welcome - literally. And please call me Narcissa."

Lucius had watched and listened in silence, his hands clasped behind his back, his serious gaze fixed on Potter. When Narcissa stepped back, he slowly extended a hand to Potter.

Draco held his breath. They hadn't discussed this. He had no idea how Potter was about to behave with his father but he knew he wouldn't blame him for anything he said or did. Potter was a much better man than his father. This was fact.

But Potter simply shook hands with Lucius and nodded. Draco felt his shoulders relax.

They mingled. Draco had to repeatedly 'introduce' Potter to people as though they all didn't already know who he was, who his fucking parents were. It was laughable. But this was a stupid fucking formal Pureblood soirée and Draco still had his manners. What surprised him was how well-mannered Potter was being.

Potter was also being very loyal to his role as Draco's partner.

"He was such a little terror as a child, bless his heart," said some old crone, patting Draco's cheek with one wrinkled hand. Draco wanted to hiss at her like a cat.

"Aren't we all, at that age?" Potter said calmly, smiling.

"Oh, you're very dedicated to him, I see" she simpered. "Such a pleasure to see. You hardly ever find this in you youngsters these days."

"He doesn't give me much reason not to be dedicated to him."

Potter was still holding his hand.

"Draco doesn't tell us anything about how the two of you put your rather unhappy history aside in order to accept your...softer feelings for each other." Narcissa looked like she'd been bursting to ask Potter this all evening; she'd finally gotten a chance now that she was done making the obligatory rounds amongst her guests.

Potter looked at him, and Draco, his face hot, returned his gaze, trying to apologise wordlessly. But Potter just grinned.

"Well, I don't know about him but," Potter smiled down at Narcissa, looking handsome and charming and, well, fuck, "it was just a natural, automatic thing for me, really. The more I got to know the real Draco Malfoy the deeper I fell in love with him."

Draco felt his eyes widen a bit. He wanted to look at Potter to figure him out, to try and discern just how much he was bullshitting. He wanted to read Potter because Potter was supremely easy to read. The man wore his heart on his sleeve. Draco could always tell, just from one glance, the kind of mood Potter was in.

Trying to appear casual, like Potter hadn't said anything that made Draco's breath catch, Draco looked sideways at him. Potter was smiling, his eyes honest and soft and crinkled at the corners. He was nodding along to something Narcissa was saying.

And he was still holding Draco's hand.

"Very well done," Draco muttered, once his mother had wandered away into the crowd.

Potter smiled and squeezed his hand. "You said you'd give me a tour of the gardens," he said. Draco nodded and led him out.

They strolled in a leisurely manner. It was snowing but there were charms in place which meant that the snow never actually touched them, instead disappearing about a foot over their heads. The gardens were decorated too, lights twinkling everywhere, lighting up the paths.

"This must've been a great place to grow up," Potter eventually said.

They turned the corner and in the distance was the turret-shaped gazebo, hung with white-gold lights. Narcissa, when the weather permitted, loved to paint in the gazebo. Draco smiled.

"It was." Then, guiltily, "I mean... I don't mean to brag or any--"

Potter laughed. It was a low, deep, familiar sound that made Draco break out in gooseflesh.

"Draco," he said gently. "You don't have to feel guilty every time you talk to me about your childhood."

Draco lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "'m not guilty," he mumbled.

"No? You're still that insufferable, obnoxious little shit you were in school?"

Draco actually felt his face fall. He turned to Potter, unbothered about sounding vulnerable. "That's what you thought of me?"

Potter laughed. "Can you blame me? Do you remember you back at school?"

Draco slumped a little. "I suppose." They were nearly at the gazebo now. Together, they turned onto the path that led to the steps leading into it. Then, "That's...not what you think of me now, is it?"

"Draco," Potter's voice was gentle, yet teasing, "Everyone thinks you're a prat. You have to know this."

"Yes, but you?" They climbed the two steps and walked into the gazebo.

"I think you're a prat too." They were still holding hands. "But you're my prat."

Draco turned to look at him but Potter, with a sharp yank, was pulling Draco to himself. With a soft 'oof', Draco hit Potter's chest. Now they were holding both hands.

He quickly pulled himself together although Potter could probably feel his heart galloping in his chest. "Am I, now?"

"Isn't that what we've just spent the last hour and a half proving to people?"

"Well," Draco said slowly, "I was under the impression that it was an act."

"Well," Potter said quietly. "I'd rather it...be real."

They were standing pressed together in the centre of the gazebo, fairy lights surrounding them, Potter's green, green eyes reflecting them as he stared intensely at Draco. He looked like he was challenging Draco, like he was daring Draco to laugh in his face and carelessly brush aside what he'd said. Because that's what Draco Malfoy would do when Harry Potter declared something like that, right? He'd stomp on Harry Potter's proffered heart and revel in it.

Draco couldn't even imagine doing something like that. Especially not when Potter was holding his hands and smelt so good and looked at him like he was promising him so, so many things.

"You were very convincing tonight," said Draco.

"It was really easy," said Potter.

"You held my hand throughout."

"I wasn't about to give up the chance I had."

"Thank you for coming with me tonight."

"I wasn't about to give up the chance I had."

"Potter?"

"Shouldn't you be calling me Harry if we're together?"

"Would you like that?"

"I would love that, Draco."

"You've called me Draco for years now."

"I have."

Draco looked down at the lines of gold thread on Harry's chest, gleaming against the violet silk. "I think I'd like to call you Harry," he admitted.

When his gaze lifted back to Harry's, he was smiling at Draco. Then he looked up above them.

"Mistletoe," Harry said simply.

Draco's ears were ringing as though he'd been struck.

"Oh," he said, his voice quavering.

Harry just smiled again, and slowly let his head drop forward so that their foreheads touched. Then he brought his mouth up to Draco's brow and kissed it.

"Oh," repeated Draco.

They were just gazing at one another now.

Damn it, thought Draco as he broke first and kissed Harry full on the mouth.

They were still holding hands.

#drarry #faking a relationship #for a fucking christmas party #classic trope #that i tried to do justice to #idk *side eyes*#my writing #i feel like this has no shape #or plot #so yes this is basically just like anything else i've ever written #happy holidays!

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let-them-read-fics · 4 years ago

Text

Blackpink HC / One Shots: Enemies to Lovers, College AU (2/2)

Requested: Yes

Warnings / Misc. -- Bickering, Rivalry, Fluff

A/N: Hey everyone! This is the second half of the request, featuring Rosé and Lisa. If you want to see the first part, with Jisoo and Jennie, click the link below. I hope you enjoy!

Click for Jisoo and Jennie

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Rosé

Park Chaeyoung: The girl who hung with the wrong crowd.

Your problem lied more so with the people she associated with than her herself. You couldn't wrap your head around why such a kind person like her would spend time with the class clowns and bullies, and to make matters worse, she would stick up for them as well.

She spent most of her days in either the art or music room, creating the masterpieces that her brain came up with.

But as soon as school was over, she'd be hanging out with them again and getting into trouble. For instance, because of her talents, they would invite her to go with them and graffiti various hot spots around town. She never vandalized any monuments or landmarks of importance -- she typically stuck to bridges or abandoned buildings -- but after getting caught with them multiple times, it was inevitable for her to be held accountable.

She was given a week's detention to make up for her actions

You, coincidentally, had a teacher that absolutely loathed you for no reason at all. No matter how good of a student you were for him, he didn't care; he had a vendetta against you for some reason, and he patiently waited for the opportunity to ruin your day.

You came in literally 10 seconds after the bell rang, putting the breakfast sandwich you stopped to get on the way into your mouth so you could open the door. He was standing at the front with a smug grin on his face, and you already knew what was coming.

You were also given an ungodly sentence of a week's detention.

Turning Point

"If I see you on your phones, I'm taking them." The monitor informs before sitting at the desk, reclining in the chair and putting his feet up soon after. You sigh and lean back in your seat, attempting to find a way to pass the next two hours without getting in trouble. Your eyes scan across the room, eventually landing on Rosé, where she sits a couple rows away from you. Sunlight is streaming in through the window next to her, its golden rays peeking through the breaks in the clouds above to shine on her. She looks gorgeous as she doodles away in her notebook, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear when it falls in front of her face.

After waiting on the monitor to fall asleep and sending one last glance to double check, you quietly stand from your seat and go sit next to her.

You barely know each other, but she's your only hope of remaining sane and occupied.

"Hi," you greet, looking into her eyes.

"Hi," she copies, a tiny smile forming on her lips when she notices your impressed expression upon gazing down at her paper. You have to hand it to her -- she's really talented.

"You're really good," you compliment, still admiring the artistry. Seeing as how you're looking down, you fail to notice the blush that works its way to her cheeks. Coming from you, the simple remark meant a lot to her.

You spend the rest of the day making small talk and getting used to one another, leaving detention later with the hopes of sitting together again.

----

The Next Day

"Hi again," you whisper, glancing over your shoulder to ensure that the coast is clear. The monitor is out like a light, with his mouth hanging open and an obnoxiously loud snore coming out.

"Hi," she giggles, watching as you dive into the floor for cover when the man shifts in his sleep. You thought he was waking up, and if he finds out you moved seats, he'll definitely have something to say about it.

"The coast is clear, cadet," she nods like a soldier, assuring you that it's okay to move back after a minute.

"That was close," you breathe out in relief, glad to live to see another day.

You share a laugh, though it has to be hidden behind your hands and kept a minimum. It's cute though -- like a little secret between the two of you, only for you to know.

"What're you drawing today?" You ask later, laying your chin in your palm as you gaze down at her work. Her reply comes out stuttered at first when she feels your leg innocently brush against hers under the table.

"D-dalgom. My friend's dog." She manages out, mentally smacking herself for looking like a fool.

You smile, thinking she's adorable. "I bet it'll be great," you encourage. She grins back as her eyes scan over your face, committing the memory of you to heart. She's always had a thing for you, ever since the time you were paired up in Biology last semester, so she's been enjoying detention more than she thought she would. Seeing you makes the time go by faster, though ironically, she wishes it would slow down a bit.

You make her feel appreciated for more than just what she's capable of producing, and the divide between you and her friend group is blaringly obvious. They like her because of the rush she can help them achieve; you like her because of her.

That thought persists in her mind for the rest of detention, and before she knows it, the monitor is releasing you again. She bends down to put her notebook in her bag when a thought pops into her mind: she wants to ask if you want to go to the park with her. When she's done zipping her bag up, she looks back up at you, only to find you on your phone, talking to someone.

"Yeah, mom. I'll stop by on the way home. So milk, cereal, ramen, and paper towels, right?"

She watches as you wait for a reply, tucking the phone into the crook of your neck as you move to write the list down on a spare piece of paper.

"Alright, love you, too. See you later." You hang up before looking back at Rosie. She looks a little down, and you have no idea why.

You pause for a moment, silently psyching yourself up for what you're about to ask. "This is gonna sound really strange, but do you want to come with me to the store?"

Her heart's pace increases at that, happy to know that you want to spend more time with her, just as she does with you.

"Actually, yeah. That sounds like fun."

You grin at her before spinning around and doing a little celebratory dance, which wins you a strange look from the monitor. You stick your tongue out at him before grabbing her hand and rushing out of the room, hearing his disapproval shouted after you.

"Milk?"

"Check."

"Ramen?"

"Check."

"Cereal?"

"Nope."

You nod at her words, now reminded of what you were forgetting. You push the buggy towards the aisle of cereals, gazing around in wonder at the huge selection. Rosé is just the same, eyeing all of the options like a kid in a candy store. After grabbing your mom's favorite kind, you decide on one for yourself and bring it back to the cart. Rosie scoots her leg over, making room for them beside where she sits, reclined in the cart.

You grin when you see her eyeing a box of fruit loops. Huh; fruity. Go figure.

You wordlessly grab the box and hand it to her, feeling your heart melt when she looks up at you like you hold the key to the universe.

"Thank you, Y/N."

"No problem, Rosie." You say, putting your hands on the bar as you begin pushing the buggy again. "Now, I say we see how long it takes to get to the paper towel aisle. My last record was 30 seconds."

She looks at you, clearly impressed, with her eyebrows raised. Without question, she pulls her phone out and gets the stop watch feature ready to go.

"3...2...1... GO!" She shouts, commanding your legs to start pumping as you race down the long strip of store before you. A couple kids dart out of the way just before getting smacked into, quickly turning around and cheering you on as you charge forward.

Her giggles fill the air as you drift around a corner, shouting apologies to the lady you almost bumped into.

"Sorry ma'am!"

A few seconds later, chest heaving and legs sore, you come to a stop in the aisle, dramatically collapsing in a heap next to the buggy. Rosé checks her phone as she reaches down to poke you.

"22.18 seconds, champ," she declares victoriously, smiling when you magically regain enough energy to stand up and celebrate.

"Woohoo! Team Y/S/N (Your Ship Name) for the win!"

She laughs along at that, joining in on your celebration, but she's blushing like crazy on the inside.

-----

The Last Day Of Detention

Ever since your trip to the store, you and Rosé have grown closer and closer. You traded numbers and text occasionally, though nothing beats having her all to yourself for 2 hours straight with no distractions. She feels the same; when she's in class, she can't wait for the bell to ring and signal your reunion. Part of her wants to get in trouble again, just to see you more often.

So, as you'd expect, it's really no surprise that you're sat right in front of her again, telling jokes and asking about her day. You've grown a bit more bold with every step closer you've taken towards her heart, and now you reach down to intertwine your fingers with hers.

She happily accepts, even bringing your hand up to her lips to press a kiss to the back of it. She smiles against your skin after it, making butterflies take flight in your stomach. She's got you wrapped around her finger, and you don't even try to fight it anymore.

The sound of the classroom door opening alerts you, making her lower your hand. She doesn't let go of you, though, and that fact warms your heart for some reason. The squeaky hinges groan out again as the door opens wider, revealing about 4 or 5 people from the friend group that she hangs out with. They motion for her to sneak out with them, but she just shakes her head.

"Come on, Rosé!" They whisper-scream, offering her a way to freedom. Little do they know that she'd take this imprisonment over freedom any day, so long as you're by her side.

"No! Get out before he wakes up!" She whisper-shouts back, eventually convincing them to leave.

"Why didn't you go?" You ask once they're gone, toying with her fingers as your hands rest on the desk.

"Because I like spending time with you." She admits, letting her defenses down.

"I was hoping you'd say that," you smile, letting her know that you feel the same.

The Fallout

After detention, the two of you walked out of the school, hand in hand

"Would you maybe, I don't know... wanna go to the park with me?" She asks nervously, glancing up at you.

"You read my mind, Rosie." You smile at each other and head towards the parking lot.

You started hanging out more, and she distanced herself from her old crowd

You encouraged her to enroll in your school's art program and show her work that way

"You're really talented; it deserves to be seen."

Your support meant the world to her, and she never failed to let you know

"Thank you, Y/N. Having you behind me means the world to me."

At one of her art shows, where she was tasked with unveiling a new piece that she'd been working on for months, you got the biggest surprise of your life.

She created a mural of you, all decked out with every color of the rainbow, utterly gorgeous

She lit up when she saw your reaction

"This piece is titled 'Mine', which I hope the girl in it will soon be." She says into the microphone, looking at you with hope shining in her eyes.

You nod your head with a smile and walk up to her, pressing your lips to hers in a kiss that was long-overdue. She wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you in closer with her sweater-padded hands and kissing you again and again.

The crowd claps for you, happy to see such an ending.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Lisa

I couldn't choose between these two gifs so enjoy both for the price of one ^^^

Lisa Manoban: Cocky, smug, and self-assured. The dancer knew she was hot shit, and she wasn't afraid to show off.

You're all for people being confident and happy with themselves, especially when they're talented, but something about Lisa always seemed to rub you the wrong way.

Whether it be her lack of a filter or the arrogant swagger that she naturally exuded, you weren't sure. People wanted to either be her or be with her, but you fell into neither of those categories.

She always left you frustrated in one way or another, whether it be from her teasing or her witty comebacks

The teachers loved her, as did the students. She was the class clown, so her position was pretty sacred in the grand scheme of things

You, on the other hand, irritated her for other reasons. You were the only person she couldn't get to crack; you never gave into her charms, and it infuriated her to no end. She wasn't used to not getting what she wanted (as childish as that may seem) and having you, one of the most attractive girls at school, turn her down? Well that was a massive blow to her ego.

You weren't afraid to say your piece, and that both pleasantly surprised and upset her.

She constantly tried to flirt with you in class, but you knew it was all for the attention. She just wanted to make her friends laugh, which they always did.

"Y/N, come here babe. There's an empty seat next to me," she coos, batting her eyelashes as you walk in the door. It's a free day, so everyone is sitting with their friends, wherever they like.

"I'm good," you decline, deciding to sit against the wall beneath the large window of the classroom.

"Oooo, denied," Lisa's friends laugh at her this time, chuckling harder when she sticks her middle finger up at them.

"Yah, shut up," she says, nursing her bruised ego as she turns around and opens her phone.

You smile as you continue working on the homework you cracked open, scribbling an answer down onto the notebook paper in front of you. Your fingers glide over your textbook in search of the definition of the term you're on, and Lisa secretly watches from afar. Without realizing it, she grins when you light up upon spotting the answer.

Sometimes her flirting does work, though, and you turn into a blushing mess

*whistle* "Damn, Y/N. You're looking fine today," she exclaims, fanning herself. You worry that she doesn't really mean it, but when her eyes remain on you a second too long to just be friendly, you blush. She's taking in all of you, looking impressed all the while.

"Right back at you, Manoban." You wink, sitting down in your seat across the room. She lightly blushes back, though she does a good job of concealing it.

Considering you share a couple classes and the class sizes are relatively small, it was pretty likely that you'd end up paired together eventually

You weren't happy about it, especially not after the way she had acted that week. Her cockiness had been at an all time high as of late, leaving you frustrated and upset. She was so full of herself; all you wanted to do was wipe that stupid smirk off her face.

"Y/N, you'll be paired with Lisa," your photography teacher informs, pushing her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose.

"But Mrs. Ta--"

"Pairings are final," she cocks her head at you, persuading you to give in. With a sigh, you respond, "Yes ma'am," and attempt to ignore the sound of Lisa's friends high fiving each other in celebration.

The Turning Point

"My parents are gone for the rest of the week..." she says, holding the door open for you as you carry in your equipment. A hint of suggestiveness lies in it; she's alluding to exactly what you think she is, and you push her shoulder upon realizing it.

"Knock it off, Manoban."

"Okay, okay," she chuckles, listening to you for once. The surprise is clear on your face.

She leads you towards the backyard, where you set up one of your highest power cameras and turn it on. You have to create a gallery of different photos, all under the same theme. You both agreed to do a time-lapse of the sunset, and take pictures of the stars after.

Once she makes sure that the timer is set correctly and that the auto shut-off feature is enabled, she motions for you to follow her back into the house. You do, and she leads you into the kitchen.

"Do you want a snack?"

"Sure, do you have any ramen?"

She nods, quickly busying herself by bending down and searching through the cabinets. After she finds it, exclaiming a pleased, "Aha!", she tells you to go get comfortable in the living room.

Three minutes later, from your place on the couch, you begin to smell something burning. You scramble up and rush to the kitchen, only to find Lisa running around like a headless chicken, attempting to put out the small fire she started.

"HOW THE HELL DID YOU MANAGE TO BURN RAMEN?" You shout, though your tone isn't angry. You're just very shocked, and loud about it. You push her away from the pot, albeit gently, and get the flames to go down relatively quickly. You turn the burners off and put the pot in the sink, leaning against the counter to recover from the adrenaline rush.

"Oops?" She asks more so that says, with a growing smile evident in her voice.

You shake your head and chuckle despite yourself, turning around to face her. "You can order a pizza now to make up for that." You point a finger at her, grinning stupidly when she presses the tip of hers to it.

"Your wish is my command, princess."

Thankfully you're already walking away as she says that, so she doesn't get the satisfaction of seeing you blush.

---

"Lisa, I can't keep going." You groan out, sweat dripping down your face. The pizza you ate earlier is giving you a stomache ache, paired with the physical activity you're doing.

"Y/N, just a little longer, we're almost there," she huffs out, keeping her movements steady somehow. You're a mess by now, so you don't understand how she's still going.

A couple minutes later, the TV in front of you lights up, saying, "Awesome moves! You win!" as you collapse to the ground in a heap.

Why you agreed to play Just Dance with her after eating is beyond you.

"Good job," she compliments, grabbing your hand to high five herself with it.

"Yeah, yeah," you roll over, catching your breath.

She lays down beside you as you recover, telling jokes to hear that laugh that she loves so much. She prefers yours over anyone elses, so it's always such a reward when she gets you to crack up.

"We should probably head up now," she notes, realizing that the stars will be coming out soon. You agree, and she carefully helps you up.

"Here, I'll carry you," she turns, bending down so you can get on her back.

"Lisa, you can't carry me," you brush off, feeling insecurity bubble up again like it always does when you're offered a piggyback ride.

"Y/N, I promise that I can. Trust me," she reassures, looking into your eyes sincerely.

"Alright," you sigh, standing onto the couch to get on easier.

"See?" She asks, sliding her warm hands up your thighs to keep you secured against her. "I've got you, babe."

You tuck your head into the space between her shoulder and neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume.

"I'm gonna punch you if you drop me," you whisper, feeling her laugh against you.

"Fair enough."

-----

Later, On The Rooftop

"Careful," she instructs, outstretching a hand to help you climb out the window. Her camera hangs around her neck, and she takes the cap off of the lense once you're both safely sitting on the roof.

"Wow," you sigh, gazing up at the sky in wonder. Her house is far enough away from the city that you're rewarded with a gorgeous view of the stars, unburdened by the industrial fog that hangs over the cosmopolis.

"It's beautiful out here," you say, looking back at her. You tense up a bit, not expecting her to already be looking at you.

"Sorry," she laughs at herself, looking away once she gets caught admiring you.

"It's okay," you reach down and gently squeeze her hand, making her blush lightly.

"Let's get started," you conclude, pointing at the camera. She nods, knowing that she'd never get the assignment done if you didn't step in to tell her to (considering she'd rather admire you), and she points the device to the sky.

After snapping a few pictures, she lays back in order to get a better vantage point of one of the star systems. She hands it to you after she's satisfied with her work, and you take your turn with it.

She notices that you keep brushing your hair out of the way when it falls in your face, so she decides to help you.

"Here," she says, saddling up behind you. She gathers your hair up, running her fingers through it to neatly pull it up for you. Thankfully she always keeps a spare tie on her wrist.

"Thanks," you smile, snapping another picture. The simple act warms your heart; she's being selfless for once, and helping you without even being asked. It's a refreshing change of pace.

"You're welcome." She chirps, sitting back down beside you.

-----

Later, In Her Bedroom

"Oh, I really like that one!" She says excitedly, pointing at the TV. Her phone, which is connected via Bluetooth and automatically receives pictures of her choosing from the camera, is displaying some of your best shots.

"Yeah, you did really well with that. I think we might beat everyone else if we use that as our cover piece."

Your compliment makes her momentarily shy, and she quickly realizes how much she loves your praise.

The two of you continue like that, reviewing the different pictures and choosing your favorites. She always finds ways to compliment yours, noting your technique or the filter you used, and it always makes you smile. She's different than you're used to, and it's throwing you for a loop, pleasantly surprising.

---

Lisa steps out of the room to go to the bathroom a few minutes later, leaving her phone connected to the TV. A ding sounds out across the space, pulling your attention away from the stack of notes laid out before you. Your eyes dart up to the screen, reading the text message that appeared at the top of it.

Austin ⛓: "Dude, did you get into her pants yet? We're literally betting over here 😂"

You blink a few times as their words sink in, making your chest hurt. You were really beginning to believe that you had been wrong about Lisa; clearly, though, your instincts were right.

Feeling betrayed, you shove your folders back into your bag and stand from the chair, willing yourself not to cry. The sound of the sink turning on lets you know that she's almost done, so you hurry your movements and make your way towards the door. She steps out into the hall just as you exit her room, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Woah, woah, woah, what's going on?" She asks with furrowed brows, approaching you. One of her hands lands on your arm, and you shrug it off as you brush past her without another word.

"Y/N, did I do something wrong?" She asks from the top of her staircase, watching as you walk towards her foyer.

"Why don't you ask Austin?" You bitterly call over your shoulder as you turn the knob, slipping out the front door. She hangs her head upon registering your words, realizing what must've happened. She makes a mental note to give him hell when she sees him again.

Tears sting your eyes as you exit the house, wrapping your jacket tighter around yourself. You should've known something like this would happen. The chilly night air bites at your skin, stealing more of its warmth away with every step you take. The temperature doesn't change your mind, though; you're upset, and you'd rather freeze out here than be face to face with her right now.

"Y/N, wait!" She calls after you, blasting out the front foor. Her footfalls sound off behind you, announcing her rapid approach, but you don't turn around. Realizing this, she darts in front of you, keeping you from walking any further.

"Please, don't go. He's an idiot, Y/N."

"He might he an idiot, but that doesn't take away what he said," you scowl, clenching your jaw. "Betting? Really, Lisa?" You ask quietly, hurt evident in your voice.

"It was a stupid thing they tried to convince me to do. I didn't want to, but I couldn't stop them from talking once you and I were paired up. That's not what I want, though. I'm not just in it for that."

"How am I supposed to believe that? This is your M.O., Lisa."

"It's different with you, I don't know why." That's a lie; she knows exactly why you're different than anyone else she's flirted with in the past.

You stand there before her, silently weighing your options. After seeing the pleading look in her eye, her dark orbs full of sincerity, you relent. "Just take me home. We'll work on it another day," you compromise, allowing her in just enough to take you home, but not enough to stay at her place any longer. You're still weary after a text like that, and you will be for a while.

"Thank you," she breaths a sigh of relief, clasping her hands behind herself as you begin walking back to her house. She notices you shiver on the way, and she slips her jacket off without hesitation to cover you. Neither of you have to say anything; one glance from you is enough for her, and she's content knowing you're warm.

The Fallout

From there on out she was always honest with you and actually spoke out when her friends tried to do something stupid

She still remained the charming class clown that she naturally is, just getting rid of the not-so-nice parts of herself

You slowly let her regain your trust, little by little

She did nice things for you on the daily, whether it be holding the door, carrying your books, or offering to buy you some lunch

"Morning, Y/N. Wanna grab some breakfast?" She asks, moving her head to the side towards the café at the center of campus.

"Sure," you smile, laughing when she celebrates.

She invites you to her dance perfomances

When she goes to championships, you're always first on her list of invites

"I want you there." She declares, handing you the flyer.

"You've got it," you decide, knowing there's no where you'd rather be. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

At said championship, she won the highest title and claimed victory for your school

You joined the rest of the team on the stage to celebrate, congratulating the solo dancer on her achievement.

"I'm so proud of you, Lis--"

She suddenly kisses you, clearly high off her win. She pulls back when she realizes what she just did, a worried look on her face.

"Shit, I'm sorry." She looks between your eyes, attempting to gauge your reaction.

"Get your ass back here," you order, feeling butterflies take flight when she eagerly presses her lips to yours again, wrapping her arms around you to spin you.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" She mumbles against your lips.

You squint, pretending to think about it. "Maybe... or maybe not."

Her subsequent gasp is quickly muffled by your kiss, which she can't seem to get enough of.

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oldguardhc · 4 years ago

Note

Headcanon that joe and Nicky have all (and I do mean *all*) of their old wedding rings. Whenever a bad death occurs or a war or if they just feel like it they retire the rings to their malta house so that they can look back on them later and remember the times they had. Joe always keeps two of their collective rings on his person- one for him, one to quickly slip on Nicky’s finger should they need or want to suddenly be married. In almost a thousand years they have lost exactly 8 of them

Old Guard hc #124

Nicky can’t stop staring at Joe’s hands. More specifically, Nicky can’t stop staring at Joe’s bare fingers. It’s not like Joe never takes his rings off. He always takes them off before a mission because they get in the way of his leather gloves; hell, he had them off a week ago, when they were in Sudan and only slipped them back on after they arrived in Goussainville. So Nicky’s not a stranger to Joe’s bare fingers; yet, he can’t stop staring at them.

They’re bare and wrong and it’s driving Nicky insane.

The obvious solution would be to bring the last two rings out of retirement. They’ve only been in the safe for a of couple days and nobody but them would even know, much less care. But every time Nicky thinks about grabbing the two rings, he sees flashes of Joe strapped to the gurney as Kozak takes sample after sample, tastes the cold sterility of the lab, smells the biting alcohol Kozak bathed them in.

Nicky shakes his head. They retired those rings for a reason.

He just needs to suck his feelings up for several more days until they get the green light from Copley and then they can go down to a jewelry store. They’ll get some new rings and they can immediately start creating happy memories to look back upon when the rings are inevitably retired. Just a couple more days.

He can do this!

He cannot do this.

He tries. Even though his husband is very beautiful—the most beautiful man in the world, in Nicky’s humble opinion—Nicky can’t keep his eyes on Joe’s face. They always start on Joe’s face; but Joe has picked up this awful habit of speaking with his hands and how can Nicky not notice the missing rings? Joe is literally waving the fact right in Nicky’s face!

“Alright, we’re going to the jewelry store; Copley be damned,” Joe says, pushing himself away from the table to stand up. He holds out a hand and when Nicky stares at it for a second too long, he receives a very forceful flick to the forehead. “Stop doing that!” Joe says over Nicky’s startled “Ow!”

Nicky angrily rubs his forehead and glares up at his husband. “I can’t help it! You keep waving your bare hands in my face!” Nicky grumbles, but he does stand up and follow Joe to the door.

Four days. That’s how long he’s had to put up with Joe’s bare fingers. He should be a saint with how well he’s handled this situation. He grabs the car keys off the hook and opens the door.

“I have not!” Joe argues, snatching the car keys out of Nicky’s hands and walking out of the house.

Nicky sniffs. He didn’t want to drive anyways! “Have too!” Nicky says in a slightly louder voice, slamming the door shut. He does not stomp to the car; he is a grown man with legs that are having trouble waking up.

“Have—no. Nope. We’re not doing this.” Joe snaps and points to the car. “Get in the car, listen to some Britney Spears and don’t look at my fingers. I said don’t look at them!”

Nicky tears his eyes away from Joe’s bare finger and glares at his husband. What was he? A dog? He curls his hands into paws and in the flattest tone he can muster, says, “Woof.”

It’s totally worth the unimpressed look Joe shoots him over the car’s hood.

They listen to Toxic for the entire 15 minute ride. They’re still humming the chorus when they enter the jewelers and they only stop because it’s dead silent inside the store. It’s like a vacuum in there.

And Booker call us socially unaware, Nicky thinks, matching the owner’s smile. He doesn’t think he succeeds from the way the owner’s eyes flicker between him and Joe.

“Any particular style you two are looking for?” the owner asks.

“Simple platinum bands,” Joe answers, squeezing Nicky’s hand. It’s infuriating that the only thing Nicky can focus on, is the lack of metal pressing into his skin.

The owner motions them to a display case and begins to point out some of the rings that match their criteria.

None of them are right.

They’re too shiny. Too thin. They have gold.

Joe taps Nicky and points to a band that has a ring of diamonds embedded in the middle. It looks like it belongs on the hand of a gambler. “Right hand?” And on the hand of the most beautiful man in the world.

Nicky makes a noise he hopes sounds like agreement. Diamonds are interesting, considering—“You don’t like diamonds.”

Joe shrugs. “Maybe I don’t know people as well as I thought.” Nicky stares at Joe—who keeps his eyes firmly on the display case—and they need to talk. Not here and not now, obviously. But they need to talk about the giant French-shaped hole that’s only going to get bigger in the next century if left unattended.

The owner clears their throat and pulls out the ring Joe’s been looking at for awhile now. “We can add engravings to all of our rings.”

Joe takes the ring with a small smile, “Thank you, but we’ll most likely add engravings at a later date.” Nicky watches as he slowly spins the ring in a circle before sliding it to the second knuckle of his right ring-finger. “Not bad,” Joe says, tilting his hand side-to-side.

It’s…different. Nicky’s not used to having this much light glint off that finger, but it’s not bad. Might even be good. He can probably get used to it.

Joe smiles upon seeing the approval on Nicky’s face and slides the ring off. “We’ll take this in a size 10.”

Nicky chooses a much more sensible ring. It’s a relatively thick band with a hammered texture around the middle to match Joe’s. It looks good on Nicky’s left ring-finger and even better on Joe’s left index-finger.

“And this one in a size 12,” Joe tells the owner, holding Nicky’s ring. Joe shakes his head at Nicky, “12. You’ve got fat fingers.”

Fat?

Nicky squawks and pokes his husband in the side. “They’re not fat! You just have feminine fingers!”

“Feminine? These are the hands of an artist!” Joe exclaims, holding both of his hands up. There he goes again, waving his bare hands like a madman.

Nicky slaps them away before he can get distracted and nods, all faux-sincerity. “If you say so, habibi.”

“You two are going to last,” the owner interrupts with a laugh, contradicting their earlier impression and sets both rings down in front of them. Nicky trades a look with Joe. They have no idea. “See! You’re already wordlessly communicating!”

“We’ve had…practice,” Nicky says. The smile they both share only leaves the poor owner confused. That’s alright though, the rings more than make up for it.

—

Nicky can’t stop staring at Joe’s hands. More specifically, Nicky can’t stop staring at Joe’s ringed fingers. Every time he looks at them, he hears Britney Spears’ Toxic, sees the small rainbow on Joe’s skin as he held his hands up to the afternoon sun, feels the cold press of metal on both sides of his face as Joe kissed him outside the jewelers.

It’s warm and full of love and so goddamn perfect.

#the old guard #joe x nicky #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #kaysanova #hc #kind of on topic?#sorry dude #I can’t plan stuff

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