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dycefic · 3 years ago

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Have An Evil Day

No prompt this time, just a sequel to ‘Welcome To Evil-Mart’

Working at Evil-Mart is usually… well, it’s retail. It’s physically exhausting, you have to deal with a lot of idiots without being overtly rude, and your feet hurt. Even though the hours and pay are very good, the benefits are great, and our bosses treat us well compared to most retail employees, it’s still not what I’d call a fun job.

But it’s not what I’d call dull, either. Especially not on days like today.

I was promoted to supervisor after the Food Poisoning Incident, so I have a little more authority and a little less obligation to be pleasant and I got issued a weighted cosh because sometimes Evil-Mart customers get… feisty. I’d never had to use it, though, because those who hadn’t seen what I did to Majority Rules, either in person or on one of the cell-phone videos that circulated afterwards, had at least heard about it. They didn’t give me any trouble.

I was halfway through my shift, and the worst things that’d happened had been running out of croissants and a machine oil spill in Aisle Seven, when our greeter pressed the alarm button, which sent an alert to my handset. As front-end supervisor, that meant me, so I went over. Sam, who is unusual in the henching community for having actually aged out rather than ‘being retired’ jerked his chin in the direction of a tall, swaggering figure. “He just came in,” he whispered.

I did a full double-take before I took it in. Superdyne. Fucking Superdyne.

We’d all heard about his dramatic heel-turn a couple of months ago. The whole world had heard about it. Superdyne, who’d skated closer and closer to the line for years, had decided to cross it in a blaze of bloodshed. He was a villain now, he said. There’d been a whole speech about how ingratitude had driven him to it blah blah blah.

I work at Evil-Mart. I’m from a hench family. If someone becomes a supervillain because they hate Mondays or want to turn us all into dinosaurs or whatever, I don’t judge. I will sell depth-charges and laser guns to anyone who can prove they’re over eighteen without hesitation. But even we get kind of grossed out by the ‘I am forced to turn evil because I haven’t been given enough love’ thing. People who are actually so fucked up by emotional abuse or neglect or some superhero killing their family, we’re fine with them. But they don’t say that’s why they do it, and most of them need a lot of therapy to even realize it. People who actually say that’s why are entitled dickwads.

And now the dickwad had walked into Evil-Mart like he was entitled. Like he thought he was one of us.

“Lockdown protocols,” I told Sam quietly. “On my authorisation.” That takes a minute or two, though, so I went over to talk to Superdyne. “Sir, I have to ask how you even knew where to find this place.”

He smirked at me. “I have my ways,” he said smugly. He’d either bribed or beaten someone, that was my guess. “So this is where the villains shop? We all thought you went to Wal-Mart.” He laughed, like he thought it was clever.

“Yes, so you all say,” I said dryly. I didn’t feel like pretending he was the first person to make the bad joke. “My next question, sir, is what made you think it was a good idea to come in here.”

He spread his hands. “I’m one of you now!” he said happily. “I’m a bad guy! So now I guess I shop where the bad guys shop!” He looked around, frowning a little. “Although I was expecting more weapons and explosives. A… more villainous atmosphere. I didn’t know Evil-Mart had fresh produce.”

“I don’t advise buying herbs here unless you’re a magical practitioner. Some of them have… unusual effects.” A lot of our produce is normal stuff, but some of it not only isn’t legal, it doesn’t exist anywhere else.

“Oh. Well, that makes sense. But the bright lights and the bakery?”

“We have excellent gluten-free breads. In many ways, Superdyne, this is just another store. We have sales, we mark down the breads in the afternoon, we even have a PA system.” I pulled out my handset, and thumbed the button that tied it to the PA. “Attention, shoppers,” I said in my most soothing Customer Service voice, which made him grin. “Evil-Mart wishes to inform you – “ The countdown on my handset reached zero, and I turned to look at the entrance as a huge blast door thudded down. That was the last part of the sequence – staff outside the area were already in lockdown and security were on their way. I smiled, and continued almost without a pause. “- That we are in lockdown at this time, due to the presence of Superdyne in the store. Please remain calm, and be advised that security are on their way to deal with the problem. If you have a personal grudge that you wish to address with Superdyne at this time, he is standing near Register Six with a stupid expression on his face.”

He was staring at me, stunned. “But… but…” he stammered, and damned if he didn’t look puzzled. “But I’m one of you now!”

“No,” I said flatly. “You were always evil, that’s true, but you’ll never be one of us. And for the record, I’m one of the people with a personal grudge. All those henchmen you’ve killed and maimed had families, asshole… and they all shop here.”

He swung at me, then, but I spent years in hench training. Even someone super-strong can be dodged, and once I slammed my cosh into his groin a few times his punches got a lot more aimless. Around then, Tiger Ty came over the register, claws out and snarling, and I figured I should stand out of the way.

About ten minutes later, I turned on the PA again. “Clean-up to Register Six,” I called, in the same special voice. “Category 7, class three. Shoppers, please be advised that lockdown is now lifted but Register Six will be closed until clean-up is completed.”

Hunter, who’d been working Register Six, came out from underneath it. He looked a little green. Well, he was still in his teens, this was probably his first fatal mobbing. “What’s Category 7?” he asked in a shaky voice. “I haven’t heard that before.”

“Biohazard.”

“Oh. Class three?”

“Send three people. He was a juicy one.” I stepped away from a spreading puddle of blood. “Run and get a couple of caution signs we can put around this mess.” I eyed it measuringly. “And one of those fifteen-gallon plastic tubs with a lid, I’ll damage it out.”

He eyed the mess. “Are you sure that’s big enough?”

“Yeah, the average human is only about seventeen gallons by volume, and I’m not going to put all the blood and mush in there, just the big pieces.”

He gulped. “Ah. Yes, ma’am.”

I called after him when he ran off. “One of the black tubs, not a clear one!” Which honestly should only be common sense, but you can’t count on a flustered teenager to have common sense.

We frown on killing customers at Evil-Mart, up to a point… but when a particularly murderous super-hero walks into our store, well, that’s something else. I’d have to fill out a ton of paperwork, though.

I had to chase off one of Doctor Malign’s minons and two members of the Genetic Reign before the clean-up crew arrived, both of whom urgently wanted samples. In the end I scraped a few pieces of liver and unidentified organ into two of the bags we use for possibly-contaminated money just to make them go away. (They’re good customers, and it was just going to go in the trash anyway.)

By the time the clean-up was done, all the big pieces were boxed up, and I’d finished the paperwork, my shift had been over for twenty minutes, and I’d been asked to come up to the boss’s office.

“Listen, I have no issues with how you handled the situation, I want you to know that.” Mr Trent leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingertips together. “It was quick, it was efficient, and… given your personal history with Superdyne, not to mention mine and that of half of our customer base… richly deserved.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. It came out too meek, and I cleared my throat and straightened up. It’s hard not to be intimidated by Mr Trent, when you’re in the same room with him. It’s not his fault, and he does his best, but even under the strictest control his fear-inducing powers tend to unsettle anyone who gets too close. We all know he’s not doing it on purpose and we try not to show our reactions. “Do you have any orders regarding the remains?”

“Doctor Order wants them.” He rubbed his chin. “Get someone from the pharmacy to prepare samples for him, please, including brain tissue. He’s our primary supplier, and we can’t offend him. As for the rest… as you know, I’m retired, and I don’t usually participate in the Endless War.” One of his hands dropped to his left thigh. His prosthetic leg is some of Doctor Order’s best work, but the injury that led to his retirement had been brutal even by our standards. “But this is different. Superdyne came here. To our place of safety. We need to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

I nodded. “Do you want the remains dumped somewhere public? Some kind of dramatic display?”

“No. Something more direct.” He rubbed his chin again, then tapped the intercom on his desk. “Iris, please send up Miss Fedorova from Marketing and Mr Levy from the warehouse.”

“Yes, sir,” Iris responded, and he clicked off the intercom again.

“The three of you worked together very well, during the food poisoning incident,” he explained. “And I believe they can assist us in a satisfactory conclusion.” He hesitated, then smiled ruefully. “Perhaps you should wait outside until they get here. I can tell I’m unsettling you.”

“Sir, I know you’re not – “

“Not doing it on purpose.” He sighed. “I do appreciate how hard you all work to make me feel… accepted, I really do. But I’m very annoyed right now, which makes control more difficult for me, so I think we’d both be more relaxed if you waited outside while I do my meditation exercises.”

I waited outside. When the three of us went into his office again, the miasma of low-level fear was definitely a bit lighter, and he smiled. “All right. Now, this conversation is going to be very confidential, and I will remind you all of the agreements you signed when you were employed.” We all chorused agreement, and he nodded. “Good. Now, this is very much a secret, even among Evil-Mart staff, but we do have a few online clients who are… ah… on the other side of the fence.”

Ms Fedorova blinked. “What?”

Knuckles sighed. “We ship to a few heroes,” he explained. “The ones who are… less homo than sapiens, if you get my drift.”

I didn’t, and from her expression Ms Fedorova didn’t either. Mr Trent spread his hands, drawing our eyes to his fingers. Which as a rule nobody looks at, because there’s fourteen of them, with four joints in each finger, and we know he’s self-conscious about it. “The less… purely human ones,” he said quietly. “One of the reasons I created Evil-Mart was to give those who can’t pass for human, like me, a place to be… people. To have dignity. So that the obligate carnivores weren’t reduced to living on pet-food or scavenging for scraps, so that those with complex metabolisms could get the supplements they need so that people who are still people, for all their outward differences, could shop in safety. There are a great many more monsters, demigods, abominations of science and other non-standard persons among our set than among the heroes, and I wanted to meet their needs, as well as selling weapons and Lair-away-from-home sets and so on.”

“And there are a few heroes who order from us for that reason,” Knuckles added. “The ones who can’t get medications to suit their metabolism, or need to eat things that you can’t get easily anywhere else.”

I nodded, because that much I understood. We have some very esoteric ‘dietary supplies’ that start with fresh, healthy, well-treated and disease-free prey animals frozen whole (from mouse up to calf and goat kept in stock, larger sizes by pre-order, halal and kosher certified where possible) and end with human blood (rejected blood bank stock mostly, we have an arrangement), and human flesh and organs (sourced from hospitals, morgues and crematoriums, guaranteed no murder, at least not by us). “Well, I suppose that makes sense. I’m surprised we ship to them, though.”

“Oh, they don’t know we know. It’s all assumed names and secret bank accounts.” Knuckles grinned. “But Mr Trent has all our online customers identified before we ship. And for the ones who don’t have any other options, well… we let it slide.”

“I can see why you don’t want that to get out.” Ms Fedorova tapped her chin. “What does this have to do with disposing of the body? I was planning to set up a really ghoulish display in a public place somewhere, I already have some sketches.” Marketing for Evil-Mart is… well, it includes more than designing our sale flyers.

“No. We’re going to deliver them to a hero… one of the ones who owes us… and make it very clear that just because someone decides to admit he’s a villain, that doesn’t make him one of us and it doesn’t entitle him to union services,” Mr Trent said flatly. “I want to make it crystal clear to all of them that a heel turn does not mean their sins are forgiven, or that we will accept them as anything other than a very brief amusement.”

Late that night – we were all on overtime, but it couldn’t be done in daylight – we wheeled a cart down the run-down hallway of a shoddy apartment building. “This is a terrible address for a hero,” Ms Fedorova muttered. “Are we sure he lives here?”

“I deliver here a couple of times a month.” Knuckles was pushing the cart. “I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Ms Fedorova cleared her throat, coughed once or twice, and suddenly her voice was deeper and her very faint Russian accent was as thick as pea soup. “This is intimidation tactic,” she said, grinning toothily. “Do not act surprised.”

I knocked on the door, but let Knuckles do the talking. “Delivery, Mr West,” he called, using the fake name the guy had been giving.

It worked… the door was unlocked and opened almost immediately. “I scheduled the order for next – “ the mark said, and then we were pushing inside, slamming the door behind us.

“Do not be alarmed, Mr… Dinoid, is it?” Ms Fedorova said, folding her arms. “Evil-Mart is knowing all along your real identity. But you are needing to eat, and we are not turning down regular business, so we make no trouble.”

Knuckles rolled his eyes behind her back at how much she was hamming it up, but I waved a hand. Let her have her fun. So Knuckles started unloading the boxes onto the table while she talked. “First, your Budget Bunny Box. Your favourite, da?” The next box, smaller, plunked down. “Two fresh chickens, halal certified, healthy and having lived good life, gift for good customer.” Knuckles dumped the plastic tub on the floor. “And mortal remains of Superdyne, with note.”

Dinoid was staring at us, but that made him shift into a combat stance, his long claws spread. “The… Superdyne’s dead? And in there?”

“Well. Most of him. The big pieces.” Ms Fedorova shrugged an impressively Russian shrug. I hadn’t even known that was a thing, but when she did it, it was obvious. “You must understand, when a mob tears a man apart, it is hard to find every little piece.”

“I’m pretty sure Doctor Malign and the Genetic Reign took off with doggy bags,” I said, as if I hadn’t handed them over myself. “And Doctor Order probably has some of him too, by now. So looking out for clones would be a good idea, I don’t know if that’s in the note.”

Insofar as that reptilian face could show readable expressions, he looked shocked. “Why on earth would… why? He changed sides? And why did you bring him to me?”

“We know your address, we know you don’t want to turn us in because we’re the only ones who can supply your meals, and our boss wanted us to make this very clear.” I indicated the note. Since Ms Fedorova was hamming up her Sexy Russian Supervillain act, and Knuckles was very obvious Muscle, I figured it was on me to be the Reasonable One. “He might have stopped being a hero, but that didn’t make him one of us. That didn’t make him acceptable to us. Our boss wants it made very clear that your failures shouldn’t expect to be accepted by us… or even spared by us.”

He shifted slowly, the tip of his tail twitching. “I… see. I understand why you would reject Superdyne. He was notorious for killing and maiming people on… your side. But I know other defectors have been accepted. Philomel, for example.”

“Philomel was child of villains. She is young, she is rebellious, she sides with heroes for a while.” Ms Fedorova shrugged. “Is understandable, da? The young do foolish things. She comes home, all is forgiven.”

He nodded slowly. “Tenebrous?”

“That story I don’t know.” Ms Fedorova glanced at me.

I nodded. “Tenebrous was just a kid. He was twelve when Varide recruited him. Nineteen when he broke with the guy. Varide put a kid into combat, left him with massive PTSD, then ditched him when he had a breakdown and went too far. Mx Frantique at least made sure he had a safe place to stay and some therapy.”

“It’s happened a few times.” Knuckles rested his elbows on the cart’s handles, his inhumanly big, strong hands dangling. “But there’s a process. A system. If someone’s sponsored by a villain in good standing, like Frantique sponsoring Tenbrous, they can be accepted. Nobody gets to just choose to join. Especially not a smug, entitled prick like Superdyne.”

Ms Fedorova suddenly leaned forward, scowling. “And why are you called Dinoid? You are not dinosaur. You are clearly monitor lizard. Golden monitor, I think.” She reached out and prodded his arm. “And not healthy, either. Look at colouration! You do not keep environment humid enough. Are having trouble with shedding, da?”

Now we were all staring at her. “You’re a lizard expert now?” Knuckles asked.

She shrugged. “What? Is hobby. Mamma’s little Varanus Acanthurus are pride and joy. Sadly, cannot keep larger monitors in city. Is unkind.”

Dinoid ran a hand over his head slowly. “Not many people realize,” he said slowly. “That’s why I order from you guys. I used to get frozen… food… from a pet supplier, but then I got contacted by someone who told me there was another option.”

“Is good thing. Those pet suppliers, they are rogues. They do not keep animals healthy, can get diseases or mites from those things.” Ms Fedorova sniffed. “I would never buy from them. My babies would get sick.”

He actually chuckled, then, seeming to relax a bit. “You’re not wrong. After… this happened… I got really sick a couple of times before I figured out what to eat, and where to get it. And even the reputable suppliers don’t always have the healthiest stock.” He opened his mouth wide, making a gagging noise. “You have no idea how bad that ‘reptile food’ is. Eating whole animals may be a little disgusting, but it’s nothing to some of that stuff.”

“I believe it,” I said emphatically. “There’s a reason Evil-Mart has such an extensive pet-food line. The horror stories we hear from some of our customers… well, you’d believe it, I bet, but most humans just look confused.”

Knuckles nodded, and spread his hands. “People who can’t pass for regular humans… or even for people, the way most normies see it… are a lot more common on our side of the fence than yours. That’s why we delivered to you. We figured you really needed it.”

“Does he order from the pharmacy?” Ms Fedorova was around behind him now, examining his back. “He is having calcium deficiency, am betting. He needs nutritional supplement.”

“I take a nutritional supplement,” he said defensively.

“The one for normal-sized lizards is not enough for man-sized monitor/human hybrid,” she said firmly. “Check pharmacy section next time. We are having excellent selection of supplements for hybrids, and chart to tell you how much to take for body-mass.”

He looked back and forth between the three of us. “You people are… not what I would have expected from an evil supermarket.”

“We may be… morally challenged,” I said, shrugging, “but we’re not heartless.” I looked around his tiny, shabby apartment. “Unlike some of your lot. I thought you were on a team. Why are you living here?”

He ducked his head. “I couldn’t live at the base,” he said, his tail drooping. “My… I made people uncomfortable. And the stipend isn’t much.”

“Isn’t much? With the merchandising deals they have?” Ms Fedorova sounded shocked, and the accent had dropped back a lot. “I know for a fact that if the accountants ever got hold of their books they’d owe more in back taxes than… well, than Evil-Mart would if our illegal product arm ever got discovered. And we pay our taxes on the legitimate stuff scrupulously.”

Dinoid blinked rapidly, though I couldn’t tell whether he was more surprised by her suddenly dropping her act or the idea that Evil-Mart pays taxes. “You do?”

“Of course. Not under that name, of course, there’s a shell company.” She sniffed. “All villains do. Al Capone, you know. We’re not getting caught that way again.”

Knuckles and I both nodded when he looked at us, and he shook his head. “Huh. Makes sense, I guess.”

“It does.” I looked around again. The place really was crappy. “I know it’s a personal question, Mr… West, but under the circumstances I’d like to know… how much is that stipend?”

He looked down at the floor for a while, then cleared his throat. “Uh. $1100 a month.”

We all stared at him. Ms Fedorova’s mouth fell open. Knuckles looked shocked, and I was horrified. “$1100 a month?!” I asked, my voice coming out louder than I’d intended. “For risking your life on a superhero team?! I have teenaged cashiers working part-time who make more than that!”

He looked almost as startled as we did. “For working a cash register?!”

“Evil-Mart pays pretty good.” Knuckles shrugged. “But that stipend is disgusting.”

“You are being exploited,” Ms Fedorova said, sounding really aghast. “That is terrible. Why, baseline henchman pay is twice that, and there are danger bonuses and…” Her voice dropped suddenly. “You don’t have a union, do you?”

“A union? Of course we don’t have a…” He trailed off. “You mean you do?”

“Of course we do. An extremely well-armed one.” Ms Fedorova folded her arms. “Henchmen And Allied Industries has represented us for generations. The last time a supervillain executed a union henchman for failure, he was boiled in oil… literally. On camera. Oh, of course some of the less reputable villains just pick up small-time trash from the streets, untrained rabble from the gangs and so on, so they can treat them as disposable, but we union members are skilled workers, with rights and protections. I bet you don’t even get overtime.”

“Of course not. Crime happens when it happens, and we have to…” He trailed off. “You guys get overtime?”

“We’re getting double time and a half for this conversation. And an extra day off.”

His eyes widened again. “Really? Wow, that’s… even when I was working a regular job, before this, I didn’t get pay like that.” He looked down at his hands and bared his teeth in what looked like an unhappy expression. “And now I can’t work anything but this kind of job. People don’t like having a scary dinosaur in their restaurant.”

There was a long pause.

“You can cook?” Ms Fedorova asked carefully.

“Yeah. I worked in my parents’ restaurant before… this.” He gestured at himself. “They were killed when we were attacked, and I was… changed.”

We all looked at each other. “After you’ve returned Superdyne’s remains to whoever you consider appropriate,” I said, grabbing a notepad and scribbling down my number, “I’d like you to give me a call. Evil-Mart is always hiring in the bakery and deli, and I mean always. Most bad guys aren’t great cooks. We don’t know why, it just seems to be one of those things.”

“You want me to join the bad guys?”

“I want you to work in a bakery. Villains and henchmen need to eat, and so do their families. Nobody’s going to ask you to rip superheroes in half, just maybe make a sandwich that won’t give anyone food poisoning.”

“That’s a regular concern?”

“Six months ago the three of us ran Evil-Mart’s physical store completely unassisted for most of a day because the only people who weren’t down with food poisoning were the ones who’d had the vegetarian and kosher meals.” I shuddered at the recollection. “Trust me. Someone who can cater staff functions without a major disaster would never have to live in an apartment like this working for us.”

“And we get full benefits, including dental.” Knuckles was shaking his head. “I bet you don’t even get hospital.”

“What hospital would take me? I always figured I’d go to the zoo and talk to the vet if – “

Ms Fedorova actually put her arms around him. “You,” she told him firmly, “are going to resign your terrible exploitative job, and then I will personally sponsor you to the union immediately. I have a spare room. You will like it. Humidity and temperature can be set just how you like, and Mamma Yelena will take you to real doctor expert in health of hybrids.”

“Those exist?” he asked, sounding a bit overwhelmed.

“Yeah, the Genetic Reign has like three of them,” I said sympathetically. “Listen, you can take some time to think it over, but you don’t have to put up with this kind of exploitation just because you don’t look human. Nearly a third of Evil-Mart’s staff can’t pass, and they’re treated just like everyone else.”

Superdyne’s dramatic demise got a lot of news coverage. Apparently it came as a real shock to the ‘good guys’ that there were some monsters even the superest villains wouldn’t embrace.

Dinoid no longer exists. Ismail Jameel works at Evil-Mart, and has expanded our fresh food lines a lot already. He’s a nice guy, and after Ms Fedorova told everyone how disgustingly he’d been exploited by those so-called ‘heroes’, he was welcomed with open arms. Literally, in at least one case – he’s dating someone from the warehouse, I’ve heard, though I don’t know who. He says we should rename the store, because we suck at being evil.

But evil is a really relative term. It can mean the blackest depravity, or a moment of viciousness, or even just ‘people on the other side’. Evil-Mart is called that because everyone, at least everyone on our side, is welcome. Plus, we all think it’s funny that the least-evil megacorporation is called ‘Evil-Mart’. What can we say? Bad guys have a sense of humour too.

Have an evil day!

#welcome to Evil Mart #good is not just good #evil is not just evil #people are complicated #and so is retail #tw graphic #tw gore #tw violence #tw murder #it's a supervillain story #supervillain shit happens #you are now warned

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jungk0oksthighs · 2 years ago

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Against The Odds | Tension

Pairing - jungkook x reader, taehyung x reader

Genre - smut, angst, fluff, established relationship, ceo!jungkook, ceo!reader, attorney!taehyung

Word Count - 3k

Drabble 4 - Jungkook can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, uncomfortable situations, jealous jk

FULL SERIES COLLECTION

“I’m sorry, what do you mean it’s already been sold?” Jungkook ears stand up to attention when he hears your disappointed voice from inside the bedroom, he’s currently in the lounge with a glass of wine trying to relax after a hard day at work.

Things at Jeon Industries have been testing his patience lately, he’s been so god damn busy and constantly feels like he’s suffocating in his never ending workload. As he’s come to learn over the years the more successful you are, the harder your job gets. As he’s set to make another billion in the next six months he couldn’t agree more with that statement – things are getting more difficult. There’s only so much he and his team are capable of doing before his brain turns into incoherent mush. At least he has a fantastic assistant to share the burden with, Hoseok, without him Jungkook would’ve been close to selling his business and retiring by now. Though halfway through a glass of white wine with ice that still does sound rather tempting.

“Sure let me just grab a pen… Okay, what was the designers name and email please?”

Subconsciously Jungkook’s brows pinch with concentration. It’s not that he’s actively trying to eavesdrop on your conversation but his chest tightened in panic around ten minutes ago when he heard sadness ooze from your tone from the other room. By this point he’s gathered the wedding dress you’ve had your heart set on for over a week is now unavailable. Shit. He can’t wait to marry you that’s a given, for you to officially become Mrs Jeon. But unbeknownst to you he wishes you could just elope somewhere peacefully alone without having the big hassle of a wedding. Of course he understands you’ve been dreaming of and planning this day since you were a young girl, and at the end of the day he wants nothing more than for you to be happy. No matter how stressful planning the occasion is turning out to be.

Selling Jeon Industries… Eloping and robbing you of your special day… He scoffs, blaming his selfish thoughts on the wine. That doesn’t stop him from guzzling the glass and pouring another though.

“Hey…” He breathes, gaze softening upon your return to the lounge. You’re wearing a tiny pink lounge bra and matching shorts of the same colour. If he had the energy he’d bend you over the first surface he could find for flaunting your body like this. Even dressed down in comfy clothes you still find a way to make his heart pound and his dick throb. Your features are contorted with concentration as you frantically type on your phone, not looking up at him when you greet him back.

“Is everything okay? You look… What happened?” Without a moment of hesitation Jungkook tugs your free hand, pulling you onto his lap where you finally lock and throw your phone onto the sofa with a huff.

“Someone bought my dress.” You mumble into the crook of his neck, your breath hot against his exposed skin from where he’s unbuttoned his work shirt.

He sighs, rubbing a reassuring palm on the spans of your back, ignoring how your weight on top of him sparks a growing need in his stomach. Now’s not the time, he knows that. You’re clearly upset and he wants to be a good fiancé and comfort you.

“Did you get the designers information? We could contact them and ask for another one to be made. Don’t worry about the cost I know you wanted to pay for it yourself but if we have to get you a bespoke one I’ll cover it, however much it costs.”

We. Because even when the odds are against you, you’re still a team.

Your lips tug into a small smile, “I’ve emailed his company… I just-, I really wanted that dress.”

“I know baby, we’ll sort it don’t worry.”

“…Aren’t you supposed to be at the gym with Taehyung tonight?” You pull your head back just enough to shoot him a quizzical expression, one that makes Jungkook loll his head back with a pained groan. Shit.

He makes a tsk sound between his teeth before tonguing his cheek, “I’m the worst best friend ever. I completely forgot I’ve been so busy at JI today that I… I just wanted to come home and see you. Fuck…”

“You’re not a bad friend.” You reassure him with a soft smile and gentle head shake, “I’m sure he’ll understand. You can blame me if you want, I’ll take the fall for it.”

Jungkook’s brow quirks with a breathy chuckle, “Why would I blame you for me forgetting?” His hands instinctively grip your hips when he smirks, “Although what you’re wearing is very distracting, I’d forget my own name if I stared at you long enough in this.”

It’s the vibration of his phone in his suit trousers that stops his mind wandering into the realms of sin. He looks up at you through dark eyelashes before you nod, letting him know it’s fine for him to answer it. But the way you’re running manicured fingers through his hair with a smug grin suggests to him that your thoughts are running just as wild as his.

“Hello?” Jungkook clears his throat, inked fingertips slipping under the material of your bra straps. Your skin feels so soft, he’s tracing featherlight patterns to your shoulder and collarbones that win him a content sigh from your lips.

“Hey. Can we have dinner tonight instead of going to the gym?” Taehyung’s deep voice snaps him from a lust-fuelled daze and he retreats his fingers immediately, mouthing ‘it’s Taehyung’ and hoping you’ll understand why his growing boner has just been killed. “I’ve fucked my back up somehow, don’t think I’ll be able to do a workout tonight.”

Jungkook nods, mindlessly toying with the ends of your hair as he speaks, “Sure that works. Are you okay?”

“Just need a rest day.” Tae assures him through the phone, “So do you want to go out for dinner or do you wanna come to my place?”

“One sec.” Jungkook mumbles, muting his device, “Do you wanna come for dinner tonight with me and Tae?” You shake your head no before climbing off his lap, “Hey where are you going? What’s up?” Your fiancé recognises the discomfort on your face, forcing his own brows furrow in confusion.

“I’m okay… I’m gonna try and sort my dress out if you’re going out for dinner, tell Tae I said hello and have a good time.” Your voice is quiet, you offer him an apologetic smile before grabbing your phone and sauntering back off into the bedroom. He’s too focussed on the swell of your ass swaying left to right when you walk that he almost forgets he’s still on the phone.

“Guk?”

Jungkook unmutes the device, gaze lingering in the direction you disappeared, “Hey, sorry. Either is good. What do you wanna eat?”

“I’m five minutes from your place now I’ll come pick you up.”

At some point it was decided that the pair of best friends are too lethargic to go out for dinner, and giving that Taehyung is already at Jungkook’s apartment the logical thing to do is order food here. Both men are still in work clothes, distress blanketing their features as they finally settle on Korean BBQ takeout. Kook makes sure to order extra portions of everything just in case you decide you want to join them later, but he doesn’t hold out for it giving how upset you are by the wedding dress situation.

Wine is poured, the food arrives and the pair allow Netflix to choose something random for them to watch while they eat.

“Where’s Y/N tonight?” Taehyung asks casually while ridding himself of his suit jacket, rolling his shirt sleeves up to the elbows.

“Bedroom.” Jungkook’s lips purse awkwardly, praying to god that you don’t come into the lounge sporting the very revealing outfit you’re wearing today. His best friend is but a man after all, he would probably, no definitely, stare at the shape of your body since it’s almost on full display. Not that he would blame him.

Tae hums, clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, “Is she okay? Normally she joins us for dinner.”

After guzzling more wine Jungkook sighs, “The wedding dress she wanted was sold, she’s trying to contact the designer tonight and see where she stands on getting another one made.”

“Ahh, that sucks… How are things with her sister and nephew going now she’s back?”

While the attorney’s question is innocent enough Kook can’t help but tense up, as though he shouldn’t be talking about this. Truthfully you haven’t seen Charlie since Ruth came back from Cypher and he knows that it’s getting you down, despite the fact every time he asks about it you brush it off as though you’re okay. You’re most certainly not okay. He knows that, and judging by the concern in Taehyung’s feline-like eyes he also has similar suspicions about the situation.

“Umm… She doesn’t say much about it. Charlie hasn’t stayed over here since Ruth got out though.” Guilt envelops the CEO’s stomach, maybe he should go and check on you and make sure you’re okay? The dress, work, the wedding, your nephew… You’re probably more than just a little rundown.

Taehyung’s thick brows hike up his forehead in surprise, “Shit… Not good then.” He murmurs, “When I stopped by her office last week she seemed distracted, I should’ve put two and two together really.”

“Mmm.” Jungkook nods, shovelling pork belly into his mouth, “Yeah she mentioned you brought her dinner at work. What do you think of her assistant Yuri? You met her right?”

At this Taehyung makes a noise that’s equal parts amusement and disgust, “Not my type, plus I got the feeling she didn’t like me at all.”

“Oh? From what Y/N’s said about her I thought she really liked you.”

Tae deflects, circling the conversation back to you, “Did Y/N say much else about us having dinner in her office? Sorry I probably should’ve asked you if it was okay first.”

“What?” That gets Jungkook’s attention, he averts his stare from the television and sticks it straight it to his best friend’s face, “Of course it’s okay… She doesn’t need my permission to hangout with you. And you don’t need my permission to see her. You’re friends, right?”

“Right.” Taehyung confirms with a small nod, peeling his eyes away from Kook and to the random tv show that’s playing.

But Jungkook can’t let it go, thinking what the fuck has gotten into his best friend to even say something as peculiar as that. He wasn’t worried, hell he didn’t think much of it other than the fact it was nice of Taehyung to make sure you’d eaten and clear the air after dropping that bombshell on you the last time he came over. But now… Is he worried? Should he be worried? Why would he have a problem with Taehyung dropping by your office? More importantly: Why did Taehyung think he’d have a problem with it? Jungkook can’t stop overthinking the scenario, so much so that he barely registers your presence in the room until he hears your voice.

“Hey Taehyung…” You say calmly as you make your way over to the pair, albeit a little confused, “I thought you were going out for dinner tonight?”

Jungkook eyes his best friend with caution, you’re still wearing next to nothing but to his surprise Taehyung doesn’t check you out, not once – in fact he barely looks in your direction save for a small ‘hello’ before returning his attention back to the tv. That’s strange. There was a time Kook had to ask him to stop ogling you, he’d even jokingly asked you to call him daddy and playfully made comments about how hot you are… Until a few months ago when it suddenly stopped.

“Kook?” Your voice drags him from his train of thought, you’re sitting between the pair on the sofa now, waving your hand in front of his face to muster some kind of reaction.

“Sorry baby.” Jungkook physically shakes the intrusive thoughts from his head, his hair messing in the process, “We’re both pretty tired so we decided to order in, there’s plenty of food here if you want any. I ordered extra.”

“Thank you,” You hum happily, grabbing an empty plate before you fill it with all kinds of delicious smelling food, “So how’re you Taehyung? Sorry I didn’t even know you were here.”

Your fiancé can’t stop staring. Conversation flows naturally between you and the attorney, but he’s not listening to a word either of you are saying. His jaw is set tight enough to shatter into pieces when he watches Tae smile at you with an indescribable twinkle in his eyes, talking to you about his back pain. What the fuck is he smiling about if he’s in so much agony? Jungkook is too busy trying to remind himself that he’s been ridiculous to notice when you struggle separating the perilla leaves on the table, but Taehyung steps in.

“Here I’ll do that…” Tae offers you another grin, shoulders bouncing lightly with silent giggles when he leans over you to get to the side dish in question.

“I’ve got it.” Jungkook snaps, batting his friend’s hands away to help you.

As soon as the leaf finds its way to your plate courtesy of your fiancé, you silently sit between the pair with wide eyes, shocked. On your right side Taehyung feels tense and you’re certain you can hear his heart racing inside his chest. On your left, Jungkook is equally tense, thick brows knitted together when he tongues his cheek.

Kook senses your discomfort and immediately softens, reassuringly sending you a smile before changing the subject, “So did you sort your dress? Have you spoken with the designer?”

You scoff, rubbing your temples, “No… Jimin found out that the designer died last month. I don’t know what I’m gonna do because I really want that dress. I should’ve bought it that day… Kook it was perfect. There’s never going to be another one like it.”

The heartache evident in your tone breaks your fiancé, he sighs, “I’m sorry baby… We can find another designer and send them the pictures and ask—”

“I know, I know…” You hum, taking a bottle of water from the coffee table when you set your plate down, “Back to the drawing board to find another designer I guess.”

Taehyung clears his throat, and Jungkook doesn’t miss the way his arm falls on the back of the sofa behind you. “Can’t you find out who bought the dress? Maybe they’d be willing to sell it after their wedding?”

“They won’t give out the customer’s details… Jimin already tried that, we’ve been on FaceTime all night trying to figure out a way around this but there isn’t one.” You shrug with a pained groan, “Anyway I’m not being rude but I’m gonna head to bed and watch a movie, I’m exhausted.” Jungkook has to force himself to look away from Taehyung when you turn to face him with hopeful eyes, “I’ll see you in there soon?”

“You will.” He smirks, dropping his gaze to your chest for a second before catching you off-guard with an open mouthed kiss to your lips, “Goodnight.”

“Night.” You blush, clearing your throat as you leave the room, “Goodnight Taehyung!”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

There’s something about the way Taehyung awkwardly swallows upon your exit that doesn’t sit right with Jungkook. Perhaps he’s overthinking the situation entirely, after all Taehyung is your friend now too. He’s allowed to hangout with you and talk to you and smile at you. So why does Jungkook feel on edge right now? His friend has done nothing wrong.

“Sorry for overstepping…” Tae breaks the silence with a guilty expression blanketing his usually sharp and playful features, “With the perilla leaf I mean.”

Jungkook frowns, messily brushing the dark hair from his face. Usually Taehyung would’ve told him to grow up for getting pissed off, or even made a joke of the situation. But an apology? That’s bizarre considering he doesn’t need to apologise for anything. It’s out of character for the man he’s known his entire life to say the least, which is what leads his heart to do the talking for him instead of his head.

“Taehyung…” Kook chews his lower lip nervously, afraid of whatever reaction this question is going to receive, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” The other man shrugs nonchalantly, not bothering to even look in his direction.

Kook’s voice is merely a whisper when it comes out, he feels terrible for implying such a ludicrous accusation but after tonight he just can’t seem to let it go.

“Is there something going on between you and Y/N?”

473 notes · View notes

emeren · 4 years ago

Text

speed racer- eren jaeger

pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader

word count: 6k

content warnings: nsfw, smut, 18+, smoking, degradation, overstimulation, breeding (w/o baby talk)

notes: 100% inspired by the official art, like mmm yes please. also i know absolutely nothing about how car racing works, but that’s not important. this is unedited because my brain turned to mush writing it. enjoy!! <3

SUMMARY: eren’s a semi-professional car racer, who has a tumultuous friendship with the reader. after losing a race, eren sets out to win something else in his life, much to the reader’s surprise.

��took you long enough!” sasha called out, holding her hand above her eyes in an attempt to block out the bright sun. you dished her a smile, weaving your way through the throngs of people in the stands, attempting not to step on anyone. your eyes briefly flitted to the track, the assistants distantly getting their cars ready. they were hardly visible from here; merely faceless figures idling around. you heaved out a sigh as you reached sasha, the brunette gingerly patting the spot next to her.

“you couldn’t have gotten better seats, sash?” you asked as you sat down, pushing your sunglasses on top of your head. sasha waved her large bag of popcorn in front of your face, an exasperated expression on her features.

“the line was long, and what’s a race without popcorn?” she grinned, offering you the bag. you rolled your eyes but took a fistful of the bright yellow snack nonetheless. “plus, if you really wanted that good of seats, you would’ve come early yourself.”

“i did come here early,” you retorted, your voice muffled by the popcorn. sasha raised a questioning brow, her elbow nudging you in the side.

“getting here early just so you can poke around the racer’s quarters is not the same thing,” she singsonged, a girlish smirk on her face. you scoffed, turning away from her as you felt heat race to your cheeks. “c’mon, everyone knows you and eren are totally into each other. i don’t understand why you guys don’t just go for it.”

“i wasn’t poking around, and i am not into eren,” you said, shifting uncomfortably as the words left your mouth. it was true, to some degree. the two of you had been friends in high school, back when eren was just some skinny kid with anger issues. now he was a semi-professional racer, and the rivalry between the two of you was palpable, to say the least.

you’d been in the same friend group and for some reason eren just loved to pick on you whenever he got the chance. you suspected it had something to do with his repressed daddy issues or whatever, and he’d known mikasa and armin far too long to be so catty with them. initially they were just playful taunts, but as you got older, they started to become more personal. with age came your own unchecked need to banter and argue with him.

somewhere along the way the arguments turned to sexual tension. a sexual tension that for the most part, the two of you were happy to ignore. it allowed room for a more sassy friendship, at least.

“uh huh, suuure,” sasha responded, seemingly unconvinced. she must’ve sensed your discomfort, deciding to change the topic. “who’s who?”

your eyes traced the track, analyzing each vehicle. “armin’s in yellow, mikasa’s in red, eren’s in white, and i believe levi is in green.”

“levi’s racing? isn’t he getting a little old for that?” sasha laughed, squinting. you chuckled.

“it’s just a small fundraiser race, plus he’s a crowd favorite over here,” you explained. sasha nodded as she processed the information. the sun was hot, beating down on your back. “i’m honestly surprised this many people came out.”

sasha tossed more popcorn in her mouth, halfway done with the bag despite the race still not having started. she offered it to you again. “mhm, this is the same type of crowd that we’d see in the underground.”

you thought back to your days of attending the illegal races, late at night and under the cover of darkness. though you were just a junior in college, it felt like those nights freshman year had been decades ago. that was before eren showed real promise in the professional circuit. it was also where levi scouted him out to be his successor.

as if on cue, you could see the figures of the racers emerging from the port, each headed for their respective cars. you couldn’t help the way your gaze immediately followed the tall, brown haired racer adorned in his white racing jacket, checkers on the side. the crowd erupted into cheers at the sight of the all the racers, one from each color of the rainbow. eren walked with a certain confidence, his adamant determination being one of the only things that followed him from high school.

though you couldn’t clearly see his face from where you sat, you knew he was smiling. eren had always loved the adrenaline rush before a race.

“alright ladies and gentlemen, we welcome you to the annual shiganshina fundraiser race!” the reporter boomed over the intercom. sasha squealed in her seat, excitedly gripping your arm and pointing towards your friends. you felt a mix of excited nervousness waft over you, giggling along with her. “today we’ve got racers from all over the circuit, and each one has volunteered their precious time for the cause. can we get a round of applause?”

the crowd erupted in yet another ear deafening round of applause as the announcer read off the names of each of the racers. you and sasha made sure to scream your loudest when armin, mikasa, and eren’s names were read off.

you hoped they knew it was you, your throat scratchy as you sat back down. there was no need to be loud for levi; the entire crowd went absolutely feral at the mention of his name.

the announcer read off the conditions of the race, as well as the reasoning for the fundraiser itself. you and sasha chatted quietly about the after party while the racers put their helmets on and got in their cars. before too long, the announcer was gearing up for the start.

“alright everyone, we’re about to start. get yourselves ready.”

you and sasha stood, hollering and cheering for your friends as the cars all lined up. you knew you’d be happy if any of them crossed the finish line first, but it was undeniable that it would be eren. it wasn’t armin or mikasa’s passion like it was eren’s; they viewed it more as as fun hobby. nevertheless, you dreaded how smug eren would be once he added another win to his already growing list. he really was a bastard sometimes.

“racers ready your cars. 3... 2... 1... go!”

they were off, levi’s green car easily settling into first place, cruising past the other cars as he whipped around the first curve. you held your breath, eyes scanning the other cars placements. eren was in fourth, armin in fifth, and mikasa in second. sasha yelled sporadically, reaching out and squeezing your wrist tightly.

as they rounded the circuit for the second time, eren passed the third place racer, coming up behind mikasa’s red car. you held your breath. “c’mon eren...”

“shit! he passed her!” sasha screeched, jumping up and down. you smiled as he whipped the corner, nearly cutting the edge of the median.

“levi is still so far ahead,” you commented, trying to pry sasha’s death grip from your wrist. your eyes glanced to the clock, realizing that the race was near its finish. levi was cutting the third corner and eren was quickly gaining on him.

“looks like it’s gonna be clo-” sasha’s voice was cut off as a large man tripped over the bleacher behind you, effectively shoving you into her side. “shit, the popcorn!”

you regained your balance, giving the man behind you a dirty glare as you turned to sasha. she frowned at the popcorn that’d been spilled all over the ground. “what a waste!”

looking back up at the track, the crowd broke into screams of excitement. you expected to see eren’s face on the big screen to the side as confetti streamed through the air, but were surprised to see levi’s unimpressed stare.

eren lost?

“you’ve gotta be shitting me,” sasha gaped, her face slack in shock. you shrugged, shaking the feeling of disappointment from your shoulders. serves him right.

people started to vacate the stands, shoving their way past you as you turned to sasha. “let’s go find connie and jean, sash.”

she nodded, still frowning. the two of you climbed down the steps, going against the flow of the crowd as you weaseled your way down onto the spectators path. you could see all of the racers shaking hands, congratulating each other. your mind briefly considered whether or not eren was going to be upset, but you decided not to dwell on it.

you watched as the racers disappeared into the tunnel, eren’s tall figure no longer in view. just then, connie and jean came walking out from the service booth, both wearing their maintenance coveralls.

sasha wildly waved her arm, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the remaining stragglers towards your friends.

“hey guys!” she smiled, the boys jogging to meet you halfway.

“why were you guys in such shit seats?” connie asked, skipping over a greeting. you let out a small laugh at sasha’s expense. she merely shrugged, turning to jean.

“we going to your place?” you questioned before she had the chance. jean nodded, adjusting the backwards baseball cap on his head.

“yeah, just gotta wrap some things up, then we can head out,” he replied. you grew happy at the thought of kicking back with your friends, enjoying a nice night of fun. parties at jean and connie’s place were always the best.

***************

“some race that was,” connie groaned, leaning back and bringing the beer bottle to his lips. so far it was just you, sasha, connie, jean, and a bunch of random drunk people who’d come from the track. sasha scoffed from her spot on the worn, brown couch.

“you could say that again,” she grumbled. “we didn’t even get to see levi cross the finish line ‘cause some guy rammed into us.”

jean looked at you from where he leaned against the wall, a bottle in his hand and his eyebrows raised. “wait, for real?”

“yeah,” you sighed, drinking whatever bitter liquid sasha had poured into your red solo cup. “didn’t even say sorry.”

“how many times do i have to tell you guys, just come work maintenance with jean-boy and i,” connie suggested, wrapping his arm around sasha’s shoulder and giving a squeeze. she rolled her eyes and shoved him off. “you guys would get to watch the race from the track itself.”

“i don’t know the first thing about cars,” sasha laughed, you nodding along with her.

“and you think we do? i just said that so we could get the best seats in the house,” connie snorted, taking another swig of his drink. you chuckled at his idiocy, unfazed by yet another one of their stupid stunts. “where’re the big racers anyway?”

“they should be here soon,” you responded, glancing out the window. jean was unironically blasting the fast and the furious soundtrack, something he’d done after every race for as long as you’d known him. by now the songs were ingrained in your brain.

“who wants to bet jaeger is in a pissy mood?” jean snorted as he moved to sit down on the arm of the chair you were planted in.

“when isn’t he?” you sneered. connie and sasha hummed in agreement. both you and jean loved nothing more than to push eren’s buttons. you knew jean’s motives stemmed from some boyish fun, whereas yours felt a little more personal.

the sound of clapping began to compete with the music, your neck craning to look past jean into the hallway. eren, armin, and mikasa came into view, people cheering them on and patting them on the back. they each wore their racing jackets over their street clothes.

you felt a familiar sensation burn in your stomach at the sight of eren. his dark hair was pulled back per usual, wispies framing his tan face. The white jacket stood out against his black t-shirt and black jeans; key necklace he always wore glinting against his chest. as your gaze travelled up from his body, you were startled to make contact with his teal eyes. you quickly glanced away in embarrassment.

“well, well, well,” jean cheered, raising his bottle to the trio. “how’d it feel to lose to a short, old man, eh jaeger?”

eren scowled, obviously peeved. “if i had to lose to anyone, i’m glad it was levi.”

connie snorted at that. “man, professional circuit has you soft.”

“whatever you say, baldie,” eren smirked mischievously as he came to sit down on the couch. connie defensively rubbed his head. “at least i’m making money in prof.”

“i still can’t believe you have people that actually want to sponsor you,” you snipped, a playful expression on your face. eren lazily looked towards you, the familiar irritation laced in his eyes.

“i’m sorry, what was that? i wasn’t listening to you,” eren retorted, looking as unbothered as ever. you glared at his words, but caught armin’s disapproving eye and decided to stay quiet.

as the night carried on, you watched your friends relax and reminisce about previous races and the days spent in the illegal ring. it seemed crazy that your life was so centered around car races, when you weren’t even a racer yourself. but you supposed you were just happy to be supporting your friends.

at some point you got up out of your chair to refill your cup. the large hoards of people had started to dance; the house feeling hot and humid as you shoved your way to the kitchen. luckily the room was empty, save for armin who was drinking water out of the kitchen tap.

“thirsty?” you asked, amused. his head snapped up, surprised by your voice. it took one look to tell he was absolutely trashed, face red and eyes half lidded. he smiled goofily and nodded his head before stumbling back out into the crowd of people.

you quickly filled your cup, following the direction armin had gone. as you stepped out of the kitchen, a body came out of nowhere and smacked into you.

eren jumped back, trying to avoid the liquid that sloshed out of your cup. “hey, watch it!” he hissed.

“you watch it, casanova,” you snapped, irritated by the sticky alcohol that dripped down your hand. eren’s eyes narrowed at the nickname, his arms defensively crossing his chest.

“i told you not to call me that,” he bit back, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. you rolled your eyes, instinctively bringing your hand to your mouth in an attempt to lick the drink off. eren watched you, his gaze clouded with an indiscernible emotion. you knew what you were doing.

“hm. too bad,” you quipped, dragging your tongue down the side of your hand, popping your pointer finger in your mouth. eren glowered at you as you let out a giggle. “see ya, loser.”

“whatever, brat,” he huffed, shaking the tension from his pants as you sauntered off into the crowd. he hated the effect you had on him.

you’d already decided not to get shit faced. while the rest of your friends had chosen otherwise, you danced alongside them, your resolve wearing thin much faster than theirs. jean and sasha bounced happily up and down, screaming the lyrics to whatever song it was blasting from the speakers. connie and mikasa were playing beer pong, and you had no clue where armin and eren had gone.

you heaved in a breath as a sharp pain shot through your side, signaling the end of your dancing career for the night. your two dance partners were too far gone to notice, waving goodbye to you as you stepped out of the sweaty crowd.

slipping your phone out of your pocket, your eyes nearly popped from your head at the time. two thirty?!

only slightly tipsy, you decided to find jean’s room and call it a night. he’d just have to sleep on the couch. with one hand dragging on the wall, you made your way through the house, past armin who was doing body shots with a couple of strangers, up the stairs and down the dark hall. it was quieter up here, but you could still hear the music and knew it’d be awhile till sleep visited you.

shoving jean’s door open, you were surprised to see none other than eren laid back on the bed, puffs of smoke coming from his mouth. the strong scent of weed hit your nostrils, nose scrunching up in reflex. he propped himself up on one arm upon your entrance, eyeing you.

“oh, sorry i’ll just- wait a minute,” you paused, narrowing your eyes at him. “you aren’t supposed to be smoking on your sponsorship.”

eren let out a loud laugh at that, more smoke spilling from his lungs. “thanks, mom. i know.”

you stood in the doorway, not really sure what to do. “jean’s gonna be mad if his room smells like weed tomorrow.”

“yeah, why do you think i chose to do it in here?” he leered, bringing the blunt to his lips and deeply inhaling, sharp cheekbones protruding with the action. you sucked in a breath, not wanting to acknowledge just how gorgeous he was. his jacket was off, black shirt tightly gripping his muscular yet slender arms as he propped himself up. he blew the smoke from his nostrils this time, making your face heat. “wanna hit?”

you sighed, weighing the options. jean’s bed was a lot more comfortable than connie’s. you could just wait till eren was done, and then pass out. “no, but i’ll wait with you till you’re done.”

“suit yourself, brat,” eren hummed, flopping back down on the bed as you shut the door behind yourself. you came to sit by him, looking down as he heaved in a sober breath. he really is beautiful, you thought.

your eyes scanned his face. “you really shouldn’t be smoking, you know. you could lose the sponsorship.”

eren rolled his teal eyes, giving you a side glance. “i’m aware. i’m also aware that you aren’t going to rat on me.”

“and what makes you so sure?” you asked playfully, your voice low. eren’s gaze shifted to you, placing the blunt between his lips as he sat up, face inches from yours.

“because. you can act like you hate me all you want,” smoke blew from his lips as he spoke, slowly inching his face closer to yours. you swallowed, eyes struggling to maintain contact with his dark stare. “but i know how badly you want me.”

you blinked, heart rate accelerating as he glanced at your lips. “speaking from experience?”

eren’s mouth quirked up in a smirk at your words. “something like that.”

you watched with desire as he brought the bud of the blunt up to his lips, deeply inhaling the toxic smoke. he lifted his free hand, pointer finger gently tracing your jaw as his thumb came up to caress your chin. he tapped softly against your face, as if asking you to open your mouth.

you weren’t sure what part of you was wanting to submit to his every move. maybe it was the alcohol. or maybe it was the accumulation of sexual tension. something told you it was a deeper itch that needed to be scratched. an itch only eren could reach.

you parted your lips, eyes fluttering as eren leaned forward and carefully brushed his own against yours, dumping his lungful of smoke into your mouth. you breathed it in, fighting the urge to cough and whine as he pulled away.

“good girl,” he breathed, leaning away to snuff the bud out on jean’s bedside table. you heaved out as much as you could, shocked by your own willingness. you were mainly surprised by how much you enjoyed whatever that was.

you stared at him expectantly as he turned back to you, a serious expression on his face. “eren.”

“yes?” he asked, leaning heavily on his arm, eyes unashamedly focused on your lips. his other hand came up again, lightly ghosting your jawline. you could feel yourself growing wet between your legs; the way eren was fucking you with his eyes sending an unwelcomed throb to your clit.

acting on impulse, you lurched forward, latching your lips onto eren’s slightly chapped ones. he wasted no time in kissing you back; hungrily pressing himself closer to your body. his lips were warm and tasted like weed and coca cola, his tongue wiggling its way into your mouth where you happily welcomed it.

you brought your hand up, wanting to run your fingers through his hair, but were stopped when they got caught in the bun. eren grunted, kissing you harder and bringing his own hand up to yank the tie from his locks, letting his soft hair fall to his shoulders.

your fingers were quick to glide through the brown strands, scratching his scalp in the process. some throaty sound emitted from his chest, the noise making your cunt ache in need. how is he so hot?

eren’s hands came to your waist, roughly shoving you down onto the bed, so that he hovered above you. your lips continued to meld together, saliva coated mouths wetly intertwined. you removed your hand from his hair, bringing both hands to run down the expanse of his arms that were on either side of your head. you squeezed his biceps, surprised when he suddenly pulled away.

“is this okay?” he panted, breaths labored. his pupils were dilated, all seriousness behind his gaze. you nodded your head without hesitation, practically begging him to continue. “words.”

“yes, yes. i want this just as much as you do,” you responded. eren smirked from above you, his dark hair swirling around his face as his key dangled in front of your chin.

“good, because,” he leaned down to your ear, lightly nibbling the lobe as the cold key rested against your throat. “i’m going to punish you for all these years of torture.”

your eyes widened, the words sending a desirable chill down your spine. “torture?”

eren’s hot mouth travelled slowly from your ear down the side of your neck, lightly peppering the skin with lustful kisses. his tongue came out as he reached your collarbone, dragging the wet muscle up the front of your throat, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake. a small whimper involuntarily left your mouth as he pulled back, grabbing your chin in his large hand.

“all of the nicknames,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. “the quips,” and another, your chest tightening. “the stunt you pulled earlier with your hand. oh god. it’s like you were practically begging me to bend you over and teach you a lesson.”

he pulled back, dark eyes boring into yours. the desire was palpable, your breathing shallow as he stared at you. it was like he was waiting for some silent agreement.

you held eye contact, tilting your chin back ever so slightly in his grip. “good thing i learn fast.”

your words flew straight to his cock, throbbing uncomfortably behind his jeans. eren let go of your chin, his lips hungrily reconnecting with yours as his hands pinned your wrists to either side of your head. his tongue was quick to invite itself into your mouth, warm and erotic.

you wanted to tug on his hair again; wanted to hear his primal groans and feel him vibrate against your mouth, but you were pinned to the bed. desperate to hear eren moan, your teeth grazed his bottom lip, the action making him yank his head back.

“tsk tsk, none of that,” he growled, wet lips glinting in the low light of the room. “this is your punishment. guess we’re going to have to do something else.”

you frowned as he let go of your wrists, lifting himself from the bed and standing. you propped yourself up on your elbows, eyes laced with desire as eren swiftly pulled the black shirt over his head, key pendant resting on his newly exposed chest. he was dangerously attractive like this; dark hair disheveled on his shoulders, only adding to the feral stare he was giving you.

he leaned forward, grabbing your thighs and yanking you to the end of the bed, legs dangling from the side. you watched in awe as he dropped to his knees, fingers coming up to toy with the button of your jean shorts.

“these little shorts make your ass look so good,” he grumbled, tapping the button. “be good and take them off for me.”

you wasted no time in lifting your ass off the bed, struggling to yank the denim down your legs without hitting eren in the face. he watched your every movement, licking his lips as you wiggled them off.

without thinking, your hands gripped the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head to reveal a black bra. eren’s pupils dilated further at the unexpected sight of your breasts.

he helped pull the shorts from your ankles, tossing them aside as you sat back down, just in your panties and bra. you paused for a moment, unsure of what he was planning to do.

“watch me,” he demanded, staring at you through his brows. you nodded your head, breath hitching as he placed an open mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh, tongue swiping against the smooth skin.

his eyelashes fluttered as he licked up your leg; just the way he looked at you being enough to have you creaming in your lace panties. your teeth tugged at your bottom lip, the burning in your face mirroring the way your clit throbbed along with your heart beat.

eren’s tongue trailed until he reached the edge of your underwear, eyes never failing to stay connected with yours. you swallowed as he lifted his head, placing his tongue flatly against your clothed clit.

it was a warm, muted feeling, your body all too aware of the beautiful man between your legs. eren brought his fingers up, hooking under the fabric and pushing it to the side.

“so wet for me already,” he hummed, a smile on his face. you blushed in embarrassment, the feeling of his breath on your glistening pool of moisture making you shiver. “’m gonna eat you so good, little bitch.”

you gasped as eren rapidly brought his face down, burying his head between your legs. the sensation was like no other; a swirling feeling in your stomach as his tongue hungrily swiped against your clit. your hands flew down to his hair, tugging as his lips wrapped around the bud, suckling softly.

a moan escaped your lips, the sound causing eren to groan out in reply. the vibration of his vocal cords against your center amplifying the pleasure.

a distinct feeling began to burn in your chest, the sloppiness of eren’s tongue licking up your slick causing your legs to squirm, tightening around his head. “fuck.”

eren pulled back at the pressure against his skull, a smack sounding through the air as he released his suction on your wet cunt.

“i told you to be good,” he hissed, lips coated in your sheen. you knew the image of eren’s face between your legs, hair disheveled and mouth swollen, eyes dark and lustrous, would be burned into the back of your brain.

flustered, you nodded your head, spreading your legs so they weren’t pressing against his face. he nodded in content, arms coming up to wrap around your thighs to keep you steady.

and he was back; eating your pussy like he hadn’t been fed in years, a primal desperation. he pressed his tongue down harder, the cry ripping from your throat at the sensation only egging him on. you struggled against his grip as he abused your clit with his mouth, sucking and tracing his teeth over it so good.

his tongue slid down to your entrance, shoving itself in without invitation. the fullness wasn’t like having sex; it was a heated, swirling feeling. the wet muscle circled around your spongey walls, your face beginning to burn and hands growing clammy in eren’s hair.

you threw your head back as his ministrations sped up, your hips attempting to grind into his face. the warmth in the pit of your stomach building like a loaded gun, ready to release itself.

all it took was the added pressure of his hand wrapping around your thigh so that his thumb could press against your clit, feverishly rubbing. you came crashing down, your eyes screwing shut as the wave of dopamine stretched to every part of your body, legs jerking against his hold.

eren pulled his head back again, a smile on his wet face as he licked your release from his lips. “tasted so good, so good for me.”

you breathed out in reply as he came back up above you, gently taking your chin and bringing his mouth down to yours.

the kiss was small and simple, your eye lids growing heavy. you could taste your bitter release on him, the unfamiliar flavor not completely unpleasant.

“sleepy?” eren mumbled against your lips, coming back to look at you. you nodded your head, eyes catching on the key that dangled from his neck. “too bad. we aren’t done with your punishment yet.”

you frowned, your body suddenly more awake than it was before. “huh?” you asked, sitting up as eren shifted to pull his jeans off.

you weren’t sure what you expected when he yanked both his jeans and boxers down; you guessed you’d always thought his anger issues were compensation for something. the realization dawned on you that eren had nothing to compensate for as his cock sprung from his pants, the sheer size making your mouth water.

a smirk crossed his face as he stepped from his jeans. “enjoying the view?”

“what? no,” you scoffed, averting your gaze. eren crawled back over you, his bare length pressing into your stomach as his hands came up to unclasp your bra.

“don’t be shy, this is your punishment after all,” he whispered, pulling the cups from your chest. his eyes unashamedly scanned your breasts, a smile tugging his lips as he gave them a generous squeeze.

you tried to ignore the imprint of him on your stomach; but it was nearly impossible. you could feel the spot between your legs grow wet again, arousal already weaseling its way back into your system.

eren brought his lips to yours once again, the kisses much sloppier and desperate than before. he grunted as you shifted to lay back down, his exposed dick rubbing against your stomach. “can’t wait to be inside of you,” he mumbled against your lips.

you whimpered at his words, his lips melding with your own while he simultaneously tugged your panties down your legs. he propped himself up with one arm, the other positioning the tip of his cock at the entrance of your already throbbing cunt.

you took a deep breath as he slowly eased himself into you; the sheer stretch making your eyes lull back in your head. eren moved his hips slowly at first, loosening you up. he was watching your expressions; his eyelids heavy and mouth slightly agape.

“shit, you’re so tight,” he groaned, hips starting to move faster as he gazed down at you. you swallowed, closing your eyes as he sent one particularly hard thrust, cock nearly ramming your cervix. “you good?”

“mhm,” you responded, bringing your hands up to grab his hair. “just so big.”

eren let out a breathy chuckle at that, eyes traveling down to your pelvis where his dick was visibly creating a bump with every thrust. he placed his hand on your stomach, pressing down as he bucked his hips violently forwards. he was so deep.

you cried out at the feeling of his length sliding in and out of your cunt, your walls clenching around him as your hands clawed at his muscular back.

he was filling you up so good, a moan leaving his lips as your enhanced arousal unexpectedly brought your second orgasm down, tears pricking your eyes. eren kept abusing your pussy, his thrusts growing senseless before he buried himself deep within you, releasing his load inside of your exhausted center.

both of your breathing was labored, eren looking up at the ceiling. his face was flushed as he recovered, you laying limply beneath him trying to regain your composure yourself.

“that felt so good,” you admitted, bringing your hand up from his back to caress his angular face. eren frowned at your words, large hand grabbing your wrist and removing it from his jawline.

“m’not tired yet,” he said seriously, your eyes widening as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips. your fucked out face beneath him had his dick already hardening again. “m’not gonna be tired till i win.”

he suddenly pulled up, hooking his hands under your knees and pushing your legs up by your head. the action strained your muscles, the feeling of eren’s cum dripping down your ass filling your head as he readied himself to fuck you senseless.

he stared at your cunt; at the way his cum was oozing out of it, the abused pussy ready to take him in again. he used his fingers to catch the drip, forcing it back inside of you. the thought of filling you up all nice and pretty sent him over the edge, his hand shamelessly guiding his cock back inside of you.

eren was meaner this time; each thrust was deep and deliberate, hitting your cervix and making you cry out in pleasure. the burning sensation in your clit was overwhelming, your mouth hanging open as eren slowly fucked you stupid.

“good, pretty girl” eren breathed out, ramming his hips into yours. “took her punishment like such a good girl.”

you tried to nod your head, but you couldn’t move. the feeling of hot, sticky tears rolled down your face, eren’s cock deep within you almost too much to bear. he grabbed your chin, tongue swiping up your cheek as he savored the salty flavor on his tastebuds. this man and his licking.

“tell me, did you learn your lesson?” eren grunted in your ear, hand still gripping your chin. you tried to form a sentence, fucked beyond words. “hm, use your words and i’ll let you cum.”

one more deep thrust and his dick stopped its strokes, pausing within you. “yes... yes.”

“yes what?”

your tongue was heavy in your mouth, pussy all too aware of eren’s length within it. “i learned my lesson, you won.”

he smirked, aggressively bucking his hips into your weak cunt, the action making you cry out as he rammed your cervix. the tears continued to roll down your cheeks as eren’s dick twitched, spurting the his seed into you. your third release followed his, your clit spasming from the overstimulation.

eren heaved himself out of you, collapsing deftly onto the bed. the two of you sat in a heated silence, your face sticky from the tears. eren glanced to you, eyes trailing down your body.

“i’ll get a rag,” he mumbled, shoving off the bed and walking into jean’s bathroom. you were beyond exhausted and knew that you’d be sore tomorrow. eren reemerged, quickly cleaning you up and handing you your shirt.

your eyes lazily watched him as he walked over and locked the door; brain too tired to form a sentence.

he must’ve noticed your concern. “we can sleep in here tonight; i don’t think you’re in any shape to move.”

you carefully crawled into the sheets, not even bothering to put your shirt back on. eren followed suit, climbing in behind you.

“night,” he whispered as he shut the bedside light off. your lids were growing heavy, a smile on your lips as you began to fall asleep.

“night, casanova.”

<3 <3 <3

#eren jaeger #eren jeager smut #eren jeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren #eren x reader #eren smut #eren yaeger x reader #eren yaeger smut #eren jäger #this is so bad im sorry

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kiyosamu · 4 years ago

Text

HQ boys when they have too much to drink

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

———♡———

Atsumu Miya

• take his typical personality and turn up the volume to 100. this man is LOUD. his laugh obnoxiously booms around the entire place, he’s straight up yelling as he talks (he doesn’t realize it though), and he’s such a flirt.

• there is a tipping point though, that one drink that pushes him over the edge of no return. he goes from happy, loud tsumu to an absolute baby. this massive hunk of a professional athlete will cry, and he’ll cry hard.

———♡———

osamu offered to treat the msby boys to a dinner and drinks after another excellent win, of course they accepted with pure gratitude and excitement (they all loved osamu’s food).

although it was at his house and not his restaurant, the food was just as good; if not better. you all thanked him for the meal and sat around his large table chatting and drinking.

“cheers, boys!” atsumu exclaimed, leaning over the table to clink glasses with everyone, downing his beer immediately after.

“not just boys here, ‘tsumu, you forget about y/n already?” osamu smirked.

atsumu gasped, leaning down and squeezing you around your shoulders. you laughed as he practically pushed all of the air out of your lungs.

“forget her?! i was going to do a toast for ONLY her. just had to get ya scrubs outta the way first” he teased, sticking out his tongue at the group.

you smiled, shaking your head. “it’s fine, atsumu, there’s no need for tha-”

surprisingly, you were interrupted by osamu.

“cheers to y/n, for makin’ my brother happier than i’ve ever seen ‘em.” he looked down at you, smiling. “never thought he’d find anyone, ‘specially a stunner like yourself~ happy to have you in our family and to have you as a future sister in law.”

you almost teared up at his words, not expecting osamu to say something so sweet. you were about to speak again but were interrupted by the rest of the boys, standing up and clinking their glasses again.

“cheers to y/n!”

they all knocked their drinks back and you covered your face in your hands. you really were thankful for these boys, they’d come into your life and you never wanted them out of it.

“alright stop flirtin’ with my woman” atsumu grinned, pulling you up to your feet. he pulled with enough force that you practically crashed against his chest. your forearms rested against him and you looked up at the blonde towering over you.

“heh” he smirked, “fancy meetin’ ya here, pretty girl”

you rolled your eyes, pushing off of him, and excused yourself to the bathroom.

when you got back, you heard osamu cursing in the kitchen. you peeked in to see what was wrong.

“you okay, samu?”

“huh?” he peered up over the refrigerator door, “oh, yeah, i’m good. thought we had more beer but i forgot it at the restaurant. these boys knock ‘em back quick.”

“want me to go pick some up?”

“ah, would ya?

“sure” you smiled, heading into the living room where the other boys were.

atsumu pulled you into his lap, immediately giving you a big wet kiss on your cheek.

“ah, atsumu, ew!” you giggled as you wiped your face. he hummed in complete bliss as he buried his face in your hair. you could feel how warm he was, and could tell he was already pretty drunk.

“i’m gonna go to the store quick, you guys want anything other than beer?”

bokuto’s eyes widened at the possibilities. he turned towards the kitchen, and back to you.

“y/n... psst...” he whispered and motioned for you to get closer. you went over to him, kneeling down as he was sitting on the floor.

“can you get me a cheeseburger?” he flashed a classic bokuto smile and you playfully nudged him.

“hey! i heard that!” osamu said as he charged into the living room. “there’s leftovers still, you insatiable beast, eat those. don’t ya dare insult me like that.”

he threw a pillow at bokuto and went back into the kitchen, coming out again with a mixed drink in his hand.

“whatcha drinkin?” atsumu asked, looking at his brother.

“doesn’t concern ya, the last thing you need is hard alcohol.” he motioned for you to catch something, tossing you his wallet. “thanks for going, y/n!”

you told the boys you’d be back quickly, but that turned into almost an hour. the first store you went to was closed, and the second was 20 minutes away.

as you were paying, you looked down at the wallet and card osamu had given you.

it was atsumu’s credit card, not osamu’s. you couldn’t help but laugh. not like atsumu would mind (or even notice), but it was the little things the twins do that always cracked you up.

you were having a great night. however, the house you left earlier and just came back to were severely different in a few ways.

the first thing you noticed was the music you could hear from outside. not unlike them to put some on while hanging out, but it was pretty loud.

the second thing you noticed was hinata running full speed in front of you (practically knocking you over) and slamming the bathroom door.

the third was the loud slam of glasses on the kitchen counter. you peeked in to see atsumu, bokuto, and sakusa all standing over a half drank bottle of tequila.

“poor shoyo” atsumu cooed. “prolly gettin’ sick all over samu’s bathroom.”

“not like he didn’t warn you,” sakusa said casually. “you two practically forced him to.”

you sighed, setting the beer on the table and the boys turned their attention to you.

“my baby!” atsumu sprinted towards you, throwing you into his arms and squeezing you. you tapped on his shoulder for him to let you down. he gave you a kiss, the smell and taste of alcohol much stronger than a beer overtaking your lips.

“you smell like a bar, ‘tsumu, how much have you had to drink?”

“only a couple beers, and one shot, don’t worry babe~” he said between the many kisses he was covering your cheeks with. you didn’t believe him considering he was already slurring his words.

“bullshit, ya filthy liar” osamu glared at him as he walked into the kitchen. “i had one drink from that bottle and now it’s halfway gone, i leave for 20 minutes to make a phone call and you savages drink my liquor too?”

bokuto and sakusa silently left the kitchen, grabbing the beer on the table before heading into the other room.

“why, do ya gotta lie, ‘saaamu?” atsumu put you down, walking over to his brother and scrunching his nose at him.

“oh, yer done. i’d know that stupid look anywhere.” osamu peered around atsumu’s shoulders to look at you. “he’s wasted, y/n, if ya wanna keep your sanity you can just leave him here for the night.”

you shook your head. “it’s okay, osamu, i don’t mind. plus everyone’s still here. we can still hang out.”

osamu shrugged. “don’t say i didn’t warn ya, but the offer still stands.”

atsumu glared at his brother, shoving him a little harder than playfully.

“stop flirtin’ with my woman”

“ah fucks sake.” osamu rolled his eyes, giving atsumu the middle finger. “don’t ya dare get like this tonight, atsumu. yer gonna embarrass yourself in front of your girlfriend AND friends.”

you quickly grabbed atsumu’s hand, leading him back over to you to distract him. osamu scoffed and went back into the living room.

“surprise surprise, osamu ran away again” he growled. “like usual.”

you touched his cheek, looking at him thoughtfully.

“what’s wrong, baby? you okay?”

the unprovoked anger he had in his eyes vanished, he turned into complete mush when he looked at you. he nodded, his eyes watering now.

“oh, ‘tsumu...” you said quietly, leading him into osamu’s spare bedroom and shutting the door.

you guided him to the edge of the bed for him to sit down.

atsumu reached out for you and you sat on his lap. he rested his forehead on your shoulder.

you were sitting on him sideways and leaned into his chest. he wrapped his arms around your waist. as you were about to say something, you could hear his breaths become uneven.

“tsumu?”

atsumu shook his head, not looking up at you.

“hey...” you said softly, cupping his cheeks in your hands. you could feel the tears on his warm skin.

you tilted his head up. his eyes were red and it broke your heart seeing him upset like this, fueled by alcohol or not.

you pushed his messy hair out of his face, kissing his forehead. “what is it, baby?”

“it’s just, ugh-” he sniffled, “samu... pisses me off...”

“he’s just looking out for you, babe.”

“nah not that. just always leavin’ me, walkin’ away, past few years that’s all he’s good for.” he rubbed his eyes, leaning back into your shoulder.

“s’pathetic, i know, me sitting here cryin’ on ya like a total scrub”

you shook your head, ignoring the last part. “it’s not pathetic. you miss him?”

“i- ‘course i do! i mean, i’d never tell ‘em that...” he grumbled.

you nodded. “well let’s make more of an effort to spend time with him. i’m sure he’d really like that.”

your mind drifted to a previous conversation you’d had with osamu that he made you promise not to tell his twin. he’d pretty much said the same thing, but a little less emotional.

the boys did still see each other often, you were pretty sure they talked almost every day, but they went from spending almost every waking moment together to only seeing each other once a week, at most, at this point. they were both just so busy.

atsumu was always vocal about how he wished osamu had pursued volleyball with him, but he was still happy his brother found his own passion. he just wished that passion was the same as his.

when you first met their mom, she’d told you about how their bond was different from regular siblings- twins were a bit more attached to each other. she laughed, saying sometimes she was convinced they shared a brain. “they’re a package deal.”

“okay...” atsumu said, his face still in your shoulder. “ya can’t tell him i was cryin’ though. just say hanging out is your idea.”

you laughed, running your fingers back through his hair and stopping to give soothing scratches to the short hair of his undercut. “sure, baby.”

atsumu squeezed you tight and gave your butt a little pat, which told you he was ready to get up.

“you okay now? ready to go back out there?”

he nodded. you took a good look at him, his eyes a little puffy and cheeks flushed, but it wasn’t as obvious, he could easily blame the alcohol.

he tilted your head up towards him, giving you a kiss. his hand pressed against the back of your neck, the other snaking around your lower back. you stood on your tiptoes and rested your hands along his jawline.

“mmf-�� atsumu exhaled, tightening his grip on you and kissing you more. “on second thought” he said in between kisses, “think i wanna go home with ya, spend some quality time with my baby, yeah?”

you giggled as he trailed kisses along your cheek and down your neck, unable to hide your excitement. it was funny to think how this massive flirt was just crying into you only a couple minutes ago.

the award for biggest mood swings would definitely go to your boyfriend.

“hmmmm?” he hummed into you, his lips finding yours again.

you nodded. “fine, but only because you’re so handsome and i just can’t resist you.” you teased.

he smirked. “not sure if yer teasin’ or being serious, but i’ll take it. c’mon.” he grabbed your hand, both of you heading into the living room to say your quick goodbyes before heading home together

#atsumu is a big baby and has lots of insecurities and i just want to hug #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu #msby atsumu #haikyu x reader #haikyu headcanons #haikyuu headcanons #atsumu hcs #atsumu fluff #haikyuu fluff #atsumu angst #haikyuu time skip #haikyuu drabbles #miya twins

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verfound · 3 years ago

Text

WIP (oh shiz it's) Wednesday: 3/30/22

Me, yesterday: "Ok. Ch3's done. Get home tomorrow, make the bars for work Thursday, edit, and post!" My blood sugar 20m before leaving work: "...but what if we didn't?"

(I stupidly forgot my kit bc it's been that kind of week, so I can't say for certain how low it got, but I haven't had a reaction that bad in years. I'mma try and get this chapter up either tomorrow or Friday, but I'm still post-crash mush!brain, so it's not happening tonight. >< )

“Well, I know why I’m having a bad morning,” she said, slipping her backpack off as they neared her locker, “but what’s going on, Luka? You said you didn’t sleep well.”

“It’s…” he paused, the lie dying on his lips. It wasn’t nothing. Not really. Or at least it should be nothing, he supposed. “Rose was just giving me shit last night. She maybe got in my head a little. I’m fine, though.”

“Rose is mad at you?” she asked, pausing halfway through entering the combination on her lock. He leaned against the locker beside her, dropping his head back with a heavy thump as he stared at the ceiling. Traced the lines of the ceiling tiles. Watched a fluffy cloud crawl its way across the sky trough the skylight. She nudged his side, and he closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. “What did you do? Insult a puppy?”

“Never,” he chuckled, glancing down at her in time to see her smile as she turned back to her lock. With the locker open and her face hidden, it was a little easier to think. “Nah, she just…it’s stupid. It is so stupid, Mari. But she’s got it in her head that you’re mad at me, so she’s mad at me by proxy.”

“…I’m not mad at you,” she said. He huffed out another chuckle.

“That’s what I told her, but you know Rose,” he said. Marinette peeked at him around the door of her locker. There was…something in her eyes. A look he was having trouble placing that didn’t quite sit well with him.

“Why…why does she think I’m mad at you?” she asked.

“Because I’m not going to the dance,” he said. She quickly disappeared behind her door again. His eyebrows rose. “Something about how much work you’ve put into it. How you want me to go. But I told her –”

“I only want you to go if you want to go, Luka,” she said quickly, and he winced at how roughly she shoved her books into her locker. “Don’t go just because you think…if you don’t want to go, you don’t have to go. Ignore Rose. She doesn’t…just ignore her.”

“I usually do,” he agreed, nodding. “Thing is, though…I think there’s a little more to it than that. It’s just…God, why is this so hard? Asking you out wasn’t this hard last time.”

He closed his eyes and took another deep breath. Then another. She had stopped moving beside him, like she was waiting for him to continue. He kept his eyes closed. Somehow, not looking at her made this easier.

“I know Rose doesn’t know what she’s talking about and that I should just ignore her, but knowing that doesn’t change the fact that I’m starting to wonder if she was maybe just a little right? You’ve been working so hard on this dance, Mari, and you deserve to enjoy it. And I don’t know, maybe you would enjoy it more with…a date? If you want to. I could…God, I’m so bad at this. Do you want to go to the dance, Marinette? With me? Together?” he asked, forcing himself to speak slowly and clearly. His eyes were shut so tightly they pricked at the edges, and his hand was fisted in his pocket so bad his nails cut into his palm. He forced himself to relax, but she wasn’t answering and that wasn’t exactly helping his nerves. Had…had he completely misunderstood the situation? Had he been right all along and she really didn’t want the extra pressure of a date right now? He opened his eyes and looked down at her, but he couldn’t see her around the locker door. He moved it aside, frowning. “Marinette?”

…she wasn’t looking at him. She was staring at a notecard in her hands. She…he didn’t think she was even listening to him anymore.

“Marinette?” he called again, reaching up to squeeze her shoulder. She looked up at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. Her lower lip was pulled between her teeth, and she was worrying it as she looked up at him like… “What’s…what’s wrong?”

“You…Luka, did you…” she started, but then she was looking at the card again. He frowned as she held it up to him. “Was this you?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. He moved to stand beside her, to better read the card. His eyebrows furrowed. “You’ve seen my handwriting, Mari. That’s way too neat to be me.”

…except he kind of wished it had been him, especially with how her face fell as soon as he denied it. She looked back at the note, closing it before he could finish reading it – but he had seen enough. It was a love letter. From what looked like a secret admirer, as the card hadn’t been signed.

Who the hell was sending Marinette love letters?

“Right!” she squeaked, quickly shoving it back into a blue envelope and into her bag. He frowned as she grabbed two more books and stuffed them in on top of the note, hiding it from view, before throwing her backpack on so quickly it knocked him in the stomach. He stepped back as she slammed her locker shut and spun on her heel, grinning up at him with a too-wide, manic smile that didn’t sit well with him. He reached up to cup her cheek, but before he could touch her she was ducking past him and moving towards the door. “Of course it wasn’t you! Silly…silly me. Why would it be you? It’s never…anyway, let’s go – can’t be late, right? Already late enough today! C’mon!”

And then she was out the door, and Luka was left alone in an empty locker room with a good five, ten minutes before anyone else would wander in for the change of class. He blinked after her, wondering what exactly had just happened and not understanding any of it. That stupid, niggling voice that had been mocking him all night was louder than ever, though. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but he was left with the sinking feeling that it was somehow his fault. He slumped back against her locker, thwunking his head against the cool metal as he replayed the scene in his head.

“…dammit.”

#miraculous ladybug #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #wip wednesday #princess heartmaker #rose is dumb ignore her #luka's dumb too #so is marinette #we deal in idiots round here

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rosy-cheekx · 3 years ago

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Alone Again, Naturally

Three times Martin should have called for help.

(I twisted my ankle on Sunday and was bummed bc I missed my partner so…this happened…oops.)

Martin’s phone was missing, though he was pretty sure he knew where it was. That thing, that wormy, writhing mass of a woman had it. Destroyed it. His only chance of rescue from this nightmare. Replaying the image of dropping the phone, abandoning it as he ran, would do him no good. His coworkers hadn’t noticed he was missing, or if they had noticed, they hadn’t stopped by. And they shouldn't, of course, it would only put them in danger. But still, it stung a bit, to know that he’d been gone for what, three days now? and no one cared.

He could become a statement from this, Martin realized, his death narrated in Jon’s smooth, clipped voice, and then they would finally learn what happened to that large, oafish researcher who was transferred to the archives with them and disappeared overnight.

Martin sighed through his nose noisily, as if he could expel the dark thoughts with the sound. “Christ, Blackwood. Getting awful morbid there.” Talking to himself had become a staple of his isolation. For one, it drowned out the ever-present knocking on the door and the squelching rustle of the worms. He honestly wasn’t sure whether the sounds were still real or if they had become such a constant that his brain just filled them in anyways.

His voice was the only other sound available to him with his computer not working and his phone gone. His clock radio had played static on every channel, and he had been grateful for the white noise at first. But the longer Martin left the radio on, the sound began to morph from the hissing of dead air to a choir, indecipherable and haunting. There were no words and yet he could understand the message: come home to us. We need you, we miss you, let us show you how much we love you. With us, you’ll never feel lonely again, we promise. Martin had come to, hand on the doorknob to his flat, radio in hand. After that, he had removed all the batteries from anything that could make noise. Since then, he could only trust his own voice; everything else was a trap.

The can opener, unfortunately, had been electric too. He had been so proud of his purchase, a real attempt at adult cooking. (He never seemed to use the manual ones and could never get the grip right.) With the power out, assumedly caused by Prentiss, he had to get creative when it came to “making dinner.” For Martin, this meant sawing open a tin can with a serrated knife, eating it with a fork, and praying no metal shavings were lurking in each mouthful. Tonight’s feast: another can of tinned green beans and the last can of pineapple. He didn’t even like green beans, why had he ever bought these?

Martin gritted himself against the awful sound of metal on metal as he cut into a tin of beans, hissing sharply through his teeth and letting his mind wander. Maybe he could strain the beans? Let them dry? It would probably be better than the wet and soggy mush he was bound to find. Maybe he could put some crackers on them for a crunch? Pretend it’s a bad soup? As he was finishing his indelicate surgery, Martin tipped the can into the sink a little, hoping to strain the bean juice and improve the meal even a little. As he removed the last of the lid, he saw it.

There, in the sink, wiggling its way out of the drain. Another worm. Martin shrieked and jumped back, dropping the can in the sink with a clatter. He grabbed a roll of paper towels and began to stuff them down the sink, plugging up the drain as best he could. For extra measure, he plugged the faucet as well, suddenly terrified of accidentally swallowing one in a glass of water. Once the adrenaline rush had passed, Martin felt it: a stinging in his palm. They must have jumped at him, must have bitten him. It would be over soon, he knew it. He would be like Prentiss, a mass of tiny bodies. He braced himself to feel something, but nothing changed. Martin frowned, chewing on his lip in confusion, and hazarded a glance down to his hand. There was no worm in his palm, nothing wriggling and biting deep into his muscle, just a slice along the flesh of his thumb, dripping blood from where he must have cut himself on the tin can.

Sheepishly, Martin rolled his eyes at his defeatism. Did it hurt like hell? Yes. But he wasn’t going to become a worm monster. Not today. Grabbing a few more sheets of paper towel, Martin hissed in pain as he pressed them to his wound, making his way shakily to the paltry first-aid kit he kept in his bathroom. He was clumsy in his wound care, only able to use one hand to open the kit and the individually wrapped plasters, while the other pooled blood in his palm uselessly. The antiseptic had stung like hell and the plaster was off-center, but eventually, the job was done. Martin had managed.

“See?” He asked himself softly. “All better. We didn’t want the green beans anyways.” Martin was alone, but he would be fine. He could take care of himself.

——

Martin’s phone had become less and less useful since his time in the Archives. Sasha and Tim had been distant in the end, their group texts dwindling into occasional messages regarding whether not someone had contacted so-and-so regarding their statement. He and Jon had called and texted quite a bit, before the Unknowing, when Jon had been in China, America, and wherever else Gertrude’s breadcrumbs had led him. But since the explosion, their messages lay at a standstill, a “good luck! come home safe :)” still waiting to be sent to “Jonathan Sims--Boss.” He used to call his mother every week, but the outgoing calls had dwindled as she returned less and less of them, until he received an apologetic voicemail from Steady Waters Care Home a few months ago.

Now, the only messages he received were his work emails and an occasional text from Peter with a request or two regarding The Magnus Institute. Not even spam calls reached him anymore. That was all fine by Martin. He was busy running the institute; he didn’t have time for social calls, even if he wanted any, which he didn’t. Martin had taken to leaving his phone in his work office, knowing he wouldn’t need it outside the building anyways. It was becoming something like a desktop mouse to him in its versatility.

It was a Thursday, and it was late--Martin’s watch read 11:09. Thursdays were Martin’s days to deliver paperwork to the archives. He could only ever do it at night when he was sure Jon had either gone home (or was asleep at his desk at the very least). Peter Lukas had been working Martin to the bone with all the paperwork he would hand off with a wave of his hand and an “I’ll be back next week Martin. Please don’t call me,” and this week’s stack of statement requests, financial approvals, and quarterly reviews would fall to Martin instead. Who knew running a front for feeding an all-seeing eldritch deity would require so many business expenses?

Martin. Martin knew. He had reviewed and approved each and every one.

It was the week after Halloween, so the list of those eager to give a statement was longer than usual. Hellweek, Tim used to call it, a grin on his face as Jon would frown and shake his head. The stack of folders Martin carried in his arms eclipsed his eyesight as he carefully made his way down the hall, the Lonely silencing his footsteps and the shuffle of his clothing. The elevator was broken this week, thanks to a visit from one of the Fairchilds. Martin clumsily opened the door to the stairwell, turning to the side slightly to see the steps that descended into the basement he knew so well. Cautiously, he began his way down the stairs, arms clutching the stack of paperwork and binders tight to his chest. The basement was eerily silent; even Martin’s muted steps echoed in his ears.

The door to the Archives creaked slightly, and Martin realized his mistake: he hadn’t propped the door. The thin streak of light that painted his way down the steps thinned and faded in time with the slow squeak of the door. The click of the latch sealed his fate: Martin was in the dark. He didn’t mind the dark, in principle, though his new awareness of the Fears heightened his concern considerably. He stepped down slowly, feeling for the steps with his foot as he went.

Halfway down the stairs, Martin heard a soft flutter as a few papers shifted in his stack. He hoisted the pile and tried to readjust it as he stepped once more. The combination of the changes in the balance of the papers and his weight combined were too much for his brain to process at once and he overcompensated on his step, putting his weight down a little too early. Martin felt the rush of adrenaline as he tried to catch himself, hands clutching uselessly at the paperwork in his hands as if it could save him and he felt himself tumble to the ground. Falling sideways, he hit his shoulder hard on the steps, momentum carrying him down the remaining steps to the floor. The loose papers not held in binders and folders scattered in what Martin was sure was every direction.

Martin was frozen on the floor, pain pulsing through his shoulder. He sat up tentatively, patting himself down as he set down what remained of his stack of folders. He wasn’t bleeding, but his ears were ringing and his arm hurt like hell. Listening carefully for the sound of anyone reacting to his presence, he rotated his shoulders carefully, wincing as throbbing radiated up his arm. He must have dislocated it. Patting his legs down, Martin found his phone in his pocket. He must have forgotten to put it on the charger. He...he could call someone, should call someone. His shoulder was dislocated.

He could call Jon.

He pulled up his text messages, the cursor blinking back at him, blinding in the dark. Jon was surely awake, he knew that man’s sleep schedule was worse than his.

good luck! come home safe :)

safe :)

safe.

“Shit.”

He couldn’t call Jon. It would undo everything he and Peter were trying to build up. It was all for Jon anyways, to keep him safe, to keep them all safe. No. He had to do this alone. It was best that way.

Martin sat himself up carefully. He had taken enough first aid courses (rather, he had watched them for free on the internet) to know how to set it back in place and he knew it would not be pleasant. He drew his right knee up, and clumsily unknotted his tie, using it to secure his arm to his knee. Martin closed his eyes tight and leaned away from his knee, rotating his shoulder as he stretched away, wincing in anticipation until he felt the wet pop of his arm slotting back into place. Sparks shot through his vision, his only grounding point in the dark, and he huffed out a cross between a moan and a curse.

He carefully made a fist with his re-set hand, tensing the muscles in his arm. Determining it to be good enough, Martin felt his way to his feet and grabbed the wall to steady himself. He knew there was a light switch somewhere--ah.

The light clicked on and he winced at the sudden change, letting his eyes adjust behind the safety of his lashes. When he opened his eyes again, he surveyed the mess of his paperwork, gathering it methodically. It took him another half hour, back against Tim’s old desk, to resort his files before setting them in the file basket he had installed on the door to the Archivist’s office, the rest going on the desk of Jon himself. He would see them all in the morning. At least Jon was home, resting.

When Martin emerged from the Archives, he glanced down at his watch, wondering if it was too late to hail a cab. He frowned at his watch; the face was cracked, the hands stuck at 11:11. He must have cracked it in his fall. “Make a wish,” Martin mumbled to himself, rolling his eyes. He was pretty sure his wishes were out of reach, hopeless. As long as he would be safe after all this, Martin could sacrifice a few wishes.

——

Martin was on a walk. He had been doing that a lot, since his and Jon’s escape to Scotland. There was something comforting about the long stretches of rolling hills and rocky cliffsides, utterly devoid of menacing fear entities or bosses hellbent on destroying the world. Jon would come with him sometimes, especially in the early days when leaving each other’s presence was challenging to say the least, but Martin sometimes just needed the space. He loved Jon, he knew he did, and Jon did too, but sometimes the presence of another would build up and stifle him, an unbearable heat radiating off of Jon until Martin had to just go for a bit.

It was raining today, a bassy rhythm beating down on Martin’s umbrella as he walked a familiar cliffside path. He could see a rocky beach below him, waves made of roiling ink, more black than blue. The rain was comforting to him, distinguishing this ocean spread before him from the ocean of the Lonely and drowning out any thoughts that passed through Martin’s head. He stepped around a patch especially muddy gravel, glancing down and seeing a ghost of a reflection staring back at him.

Martin had been in a cold place today, withdrawn from the rest of the world. He had felt the fog blossoming over his mind and had known he needed to go for a bit, center himself, remind himself he was real. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither would his sense of self again, though he was making progress. Jon understood that sentiment, perhaps better than anyone else in the world, and had kissed him softly at the doorway, squeezing his hand in an unspoken promise. Martin tensed his own hand in a fist, still feeling the heat of Jon’s calloused palm under his, reveling in the idea that someone loved him the way Jon did, that someone loved him the way Jon did and that Martin loved Jon back. Martin felt his body solidifying under the rain, felt the wind buffet against him rather than pass through him.

Martin was thinking about going home when it happened.

Home, or Daisy’s safehouse, was a humble affair: reinforced windows, minimalist, a few guns hidden in the floorboards, lots of fresh fruits and vegetables from the village down the hill. It had been easy to reassign this place in Martin’s mind as home. He hadn’t felt at home since...well, definitely not since Prentiss. Maybe not before either.

The rain was letting up, and the brolly was forgotten in favor of letting the rain drop down into his hair, sopping his curls and plastering them to his skin. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so content to be in the rain. Things weren’t good, but they were the best they’d been in a while.

The next thing Martin knew he was on the ground, ankle twisted and both shins scraped, blood and dirt mingling on his legs. He tried to stand up and cried out as his ankle immediately gave way, the hope of putting weight on it dashed on the rocks of the beach far below him.

Martin Blackwood crawled to a tree, leaning his back against it, not minding the dirt that was sure to collect on his back and rump. He winced and massaged his ankle, already feeling it begin to swell under his fingertips. With his free hand, a silver scar shining between his forefinger and thumb, he reached for his phone from his jacket pocket, hands shaking as he clumsily dialed the only number in his list of favorites.

“Martin?” Jon’s voice was warm through the tinny speakers. “I hope you’re well.” It was carefully not a question, though Martin caught the notes of careful concern.

“Tch-” Martin sucked air through his teeth. “I fell, Jon. I twisted my ankle, I think? Can’t-ah-can’t walk.”

“Oh. Martin, dear,” Jon’s voice was softer, and Martin could practically see his love’s fingers, itching to do, to fix. “Do you need me to—I can come get you, if you like. I haven’t…I haven't looked. But I can, if you want me to.”

Martin smiled despite himself, hearing Jon’s cautious phrasing. “Please, yes. I’m pretty sure I’m near a picnic park, if you want to drive there and get me? Not sure this is a drivable trail.”

“Did you pass anyone?”

“…no?”

A pause. Martin heard static crackling through the phone. “No one will be there. I Know where you are, Martin. I’ll be there soon.”

Ten minutes and enough ice packs to ease the pain of a full rugby team later, Martin was laying in the back of Jon’s small car, heat blasting on him to dry his now-soaked clothing. There were perks to having an all-knowing partner, it turned out.

Later that evening, Martin was tucked into the couch, his head pleasantly nestled in cushions and his feet in Jon’s lap, who was carefully massaging his feet and ankles, probing for any long-term injuries with his Eyes. A mug of tea grasped between his hands, Martin sighed softly and felt warmth flood his face. He hadn’t been alone this time. He wouldn’t be alone ever again.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #jmart #magnuspod #jon sims #fanfic to a tea #I twisted my ankle a few days ago and was sad my partner couldn’t comfort me #so this blossomed #enjoy!#hurt comfort #TMA fanfic #the magnus archives fanfic

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worldoffanfiction2021 · 3 years ago

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Eternal Love of Dream - Chapter Next 6

(Image Source: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/601582462717336907/)

Xiaobai's body and spirit had finally recovered fully. Her wounds had healed and her cultivation had come back. She had started practicing martial arts again and was very happy about it.

With Dijun himself helping her, she didn’t need to worry. He would push her just out of her comfort zone, every few days. Only when she got comfortable there he would challenge her further. He was a very good teacher. She was an equally dedicated student.

Gungun would tag along with them all the time. He loved to watch his mom and dad practice. Dijun had made him a smaller wooden sword and every day his mom or dad would spend some time with him playing with it. He didn’t realize that while he thought they were playing, they were also teaching him many important skills. He was a happy and cheerful child.

Fengjiu had been making great progress on handling her duties as a monarch too. She set aside some time each day to go over various reports and work through them. Her father was delighted to see that for sure. She had also made several decisions to appoint capable citizens of Quinqui to take on more responsibilities around the kingdom. People were appreciative of her efforts. Overall things were settling well.

Dijun undertook several small trips back and forth to Sky Kingdom to handle his work. He was training Ye Quingti on different aspects of administration at Tai Chen palace. Fengjiu and Dijun had found that each time they would leave each other, they would be so anxious to meet again.

Tonight was just one of the nights when he had returned from Sky Kingdom. He had waited (im)patiently for Xiaobai to finish her day, to put Gungun to bed and to get to their room. As soon as she entered, he closed the door behind her and took her in his arms, kissing her all over hungrily. After her initial shyness, she kissed him right back. "Missed me?", he whispered in her ear, teasing her. She buried her face on his chest shyly and nodded. Very pleased with that, he let out a husky laugh, scooped her up in arms and took her to bed.

When Dijun woke up hours later, he realized they had not changed or tidied up the room or closed the windows. He chuckled softly. In the last several millions of years, Dijun had never felt this way about anyone else. He realized he was a completely different man now than before. This soft, frail little woman had melted his heart of rock. For someone who had been devoid of desires for centuries, she had become the one desire he could not give up on.

He waved his hand to fix the room and close windows. Then he pulled the quilt up on both of them and scooted closer to Fengjiu. Spooning her close to him, he closed his eyes.

——

As usual, Fengjiu woke up at the first light of the day. She turned to face Dijun who was still sleeping soundly. She reveled in the moment, shyly admiring her handsome husband. Out of habit she started playing with his silver hair. That woke him up. “You are awake? It’s still early, don’t get up yet”, he murmured groggily and pulled her close. She could hear his steady, rhythmic heartbeat. That was the best sound in the entire universe for her. She closed her eyes and slept some more.

After a while Dijun got up and got ready. He sat at his desk half reading, half watching Xiaobai sleep. Her delicate features looked exquisite while sleeping. He recalled how warm and soft her skin had felt under him last night and was very much tempted to get back in bed with her. "Stop. Let her rest, Dong Hua. She has been working hard lately.", he reprimanded himself.

When Xiaobai finally woke up, the sun was up already. When she stirred and opened her eyes, Dijun smiled at her. “Good morning, honey.” He teased. She made a face. She was still not comfortable hearing him say that endearment in broad daylight.

“Get ready, honey. I will fetch us breakfast and we can eat together. Would you like that? Honey?”, seeing her face, he continued to torment her. Frowning, she got up and came to him. She put her hand on his mouth to make him stop calling her that. He was only too glad. He grabbed on to her hand and started kissing each finger slowly, unhurriedly. She felt like her knees were about to melt.

“Mom, you are up! Why did you sleep for so long today?”, Gungun ran in bursting with questions. She snatched her hand back blushing all over. “I… Me.. We…”, Fengjiu fumbled for words. Meanwhile Dijun composed himself quickly, turned around and hugged Gungun. “I think you got too tired last night, didn’t you? Honey?” He asked her with a naughty smirk.

“Last night? But you put me to bed on time, why did you get tired? What did you do after?”, asked a confused Gungun. She turned a shade more pink at the mention of last night and was rendered speechless. First of all her brain had not fully woken up, then Dijun had turned it almost to a mush with his lingering finger-kisses and now this. All she could say was, “I don’t know how…”

Dijun, who was taking pleasure in her discomfort, finally decided to relent and came to her rescue. “Your mom has been working hard these past few days. She must have been tired and not realized it. Let’s go bring our breakfast here. Mom can get ready by then and we can all eat together.”, he said extending his hand to the boy. Together they went out.

“Phew”, she shook her head and sighed, watching their retreating figures.

----

While they were eating and chit chatting, Dijun started a topic with all seriousness. “Xiaobai, I think we have lived in Quinqui long enough. Your parents have been kind enough to have us. Do you think we should go somewhere else for the next few months? We can go to Tai Chen palace or Bihai Cangling. I can arrange for messengers to deliver important messages about your work to you every day. What do you think?”

Xiaobai nodded and agreed, “I have been thinking about the same thing. Give me 4 weeks to arrange my current work and make sure there are things in place for Quinqui while we are away. After 4 weeks, let’s go to Bihai Cangling. Gungun hasn’t been there at all. He should know that’s his home too.”

“Sounds like a good plan, hon....”, Dijun smiled and stopped halfway through 'honey' as he saw her expression. Gungun looked up, utterly confused. But both his parents were serving him food and they looked very engrossed in eating.

———

#dong hua x feng jiu #fengjiu #bai feng jiu #ten miles of peach blossoms #dong hua dijun #dijun #eternal love of dream #cdrama #chinese drama #dong hua #xiao bai #bai gun gun #vengo gao #dilireba

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solarwonux · 4 years ago

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prince!wonwoo x witch!reader

w.c: 4.3k (I almost made it 5k but I stopped myself)

warnings: murder, death, alcohol, tarot cards, running away, witchy things if you squint, angst, smut, ropes.

note: special special thanks to my baby @starlightshua she named this beauty lmao. I re wrote this story so many times, literally the first draft of this was nothing like this and then I woke up at 5am today and rewrote the entire thing. I’m pretty proud so I hope you enjoy it. Also let me know if you want more of this, I have some ideas. Enjoy.x

Wonwoo pushes the tavern door open a little too hard. It hits the brick wall behind it, the sound erupting through the wasted and nearly wasted bodies that occupied the space. He doesn’t care, he needs a drink or many of them for that matter so he walks letting the door rattle obnoxiously behind him. The people eyeing him down like he just murdered their first born and not interrupted their nightly escapades.

He reaches the bar taking the worn out stool at the end and taps his fingers against the wooden counter. He was a regular and sadly had gotten used to the mustiness that was etched into the walls of the place and yet he still felt out of place.

“What does our royal guest of honor want tonight?” Mingyu rapped his fingers drumming in front of Wonwoo, grabbing his attention.

“Not royal, but bourbon please.”

Ever since he ran away from his Royal duties and somehow ended up in a tavern that existed harmoniously to bring two worlds together. Wonwoo had seen and witnessed things he had only grown up hearing during his mother’s bedtime stories. A secret language they shared when hidden behind the comfort of his bedroom. Away from the torturous hands of the King.

“As you wish your majesty.” Mingyu’s sarcastic drawl took him out of the spiral inside his head. He rolled his eyes obnoxiously as he watched Mingyu throw his head back in laughter, his fangs catching in the reflection of the dim light causing a chill to roll up his spine. “You’re so uptight tonight, relax a little Prince Charming.” He winked at Wonwoo before turning around and walking away from him.

No matter how hard he tried to leave the life he had behind, everyone here in this tavern that belonged neither here nor there, loved to remind him that he still had the king’s royal blood coursing through his veins. Usually, he didn’t mind, sometimes he would play into the character when he was drunk enough to earn a few laughs. But tonight on the final night of October, he didn’t want to be reminded of his true identity.

On Hallows Eve, three years ago his life had gone south. He was set to marry a princess from a neighboring kingdom and he couldn’t wait to meet her during the annual ball. He had woken up that morning with a jolt and skipped a step as he made his way to his mother and father’s private chamber. When he arrived, his heart, in his throat. He found his father the charming King beloved by his people with his hands around his mother’s throat and a murderous glimmer behind his soft eyes while she slowly turned a rough shade of blue.

Wonwoo felt his world crash onto the ground. his father didn’t stop no matter how hard he pleaded for him too. His tears fell onto the palace grounds creating tsunami’s as he witnessed his mother take her last breath.

He ran, ran to where his feet could carry him. Packed up anything that could fit in the tiny knapsack he used whenever he went to explore the forest behind the palace. And left, leaving behind the life he had only ever known.

He traveled for three days on foot without food nor rest, before he came across the tavern that smelled more like rotten feet than whiskey. He met Mingyu, who had recognized him right away and gave him the tavern’s royal treatment. Food, water and the rickety old room just above the tavern.

“It’s not satin or velvet or whatever you guys use over there, but it’s enough for you to sleep. Just pay me back by working here every odd day of the week.” Mingyu said, clapping his shoulder and leaving him behind to deal with his new reality.

That night was the night he was able to mourn his mother’s death and his own one as well. The king had come out publicly with fake tears in his eyes to say that his wife and his second born son had fallen ill to an illness and that when the royal physicians realized it, it had been too late. Though, everyone in the tavern knew the truth and he found comfort knowing that they hated the king just as much as he did.

“Penny for your thoughts my prince.” The angelic voice he had grown to love so much took him out of his thoughts. He lived in his head too much and he was thankful he had you —a witch he had met during one of his shifts over a year ago, to ground him back down onto Earth.

“Don’t call me that.” He smiled and grabbed hold of your hand and brought it up to his lips. He kissed it lightly keeping his eyes on yours as they burned holes of fire into them. You tensed up feeling the heat run up your body. It was laughable. You, a witch who could make anyone succumb and fall at her feet, was letting a runway prince pursue her and turn her into mush at his feet.

“You liked it when I said in bed once.”

“That was one time, princess.” He winked, enjoying the way your cheeks flushed. Your body reacted amorously to him and each time it bubbled an emotion deep inside of him that he wasn’t sure what it was. It scared him and excited him all at the same time.

Wonwoo stopped believing in love three years ago but every time you were nearby. He believed that he could again.

“One to many times Wonwoo.” You toyed as you took the empty seat next to him. Your hand still entrapped in his and you weren’t planning on letting go any time soon.

Mingyu rolled his eyes and placed Wonwoo’s drink in front of him, “Wonwoo has a prince kink?.” He mumbled his voice laced with disgust. “I should’ve known.” and leaned against the wooden table, shooting daggers at Wonwoo.

“Not a kink if that’s what he is Gyu.”

Wonwoo didn’t care that he still had royal blood in him, because whenever he found himself laughing at Mingyu’s poor attempts to flirt with nymphs. Or your presence next to him he forgot that he did. He wondered if his mother had led him here to this repulsive tavern in order to meet the two of you.

Although Wonwoo knew you were perfectly capable at defending yourself. He loved walking you home.

The two of you trailed down the dirt path hand in hand; chasing the blue light of the moon. Comfortable silence erupting between your bodies. Wonwoo never felt more at home then now.

“So what’s a witch like you doing with a commoner like me on Hallow’s Eve.” Wonwoo glanced at you his eyes sparkling like they held a million galaxies and you found yourself wanting to get lost in them. “Don’t you have rituals or cards to read, aren’t you the most powerful underneath a blue moon.” He edged on making you smile.

“Are you saying you want your cards read again?” You bumped your shoulder against his. His grip on your hand falters making you giggle.

Wonwoo’s eyes grew wider than the moon as he remembered the night you read his cards to him for the first time a few weeks ago and he blushed. “Last time you read my cards I ended tied up.”

“Well that’s cause you picked my sex deck Wonwoo, we’ve been over this.” You stopped walking and leaned up to kiss his cheek, leaving a plum lipstick mark behind. “Don’t act like you didn’t like it.” You whispered in his ear.

Wonwoo swallowed hard at your taunting tone. He knew you were right and he hated it. If you had asked him with that infamous bat of your eyelashes he would’ve done it again. “For once angel I want to see you tied up.” He blurted out, his cheeks turning a rough shade of red as he processed what he had said after he had said.

“Okay, but you’re going to have to catch me first.”

“Catch you, what a—.”

Before Wonwoo could finish his sentence you took off running. Wonwoo threw his head back in disbelief, his body coursing with exhaustion for a brief second before he took off as well. This is what he loved most, the adrenaline rush you brought to him. Although sometimes he thought you were too much he wouldn’t trade the moments he spent with you for anything in the world. Not even for his mother’s life and you had offered a few times, but he refused because with you he felt complete.

Your laughter rang through the howling branches of the trees surrounding the two of you. Wonwoo’s body felt like it was floating as he chased after you, the cool night air hitting his face as he ran with everything in him. It reminded him of the times he spent at the palace gardens chasing after his older brother, his mother’s voice ringing in his ears as she joined in halfway. It was these moments where he was the most carefree, that reminded him of his mother. That made him miss her with everything in his being. It was moments like these where the anger and resentment towards his father would surface and he wished he hadn’t had run away that day. But this was different because for the first time in his life he was running towards someone, a goal.

“Maybe you don’t want it enough Wonwoo. Are you even trying?” You teased, he could tell he was close from how loud your voice sounded. It only gave him motivation to run faster, so he did.

You faded into view, it felt like he was seeing you for the first time in his life. You were leaning against a tree, arms cockily crossed in front of you, waiting. He let his feet carry him like the wind around him and soon he was crashing into you like an ocean wave. You laughed silently. The impact, knocking the air out of your lungs making you feel lighter than a cloud.

Almost as if by instinct Wonwoo’s arms found their way around your body, his face morphing into one of concern. He didn’t mean to crash into you as hard as he did or at all, but sometimes when he was with you his body acted as if it were unattached to his brain. “I’m sorry are you okay?” He placed his fingers underneath your chin lifting your head up so your watery eyes locked with his.

You planted your hands on his chest, balling your fist wrinkling his starch white button down and nodded. “With-- y-you I’m always okay.” You gasped and closed the distance. Your lips were on his faster than he could blink and he felt himself melt.

In fairytales silver and water were a witches ' kryptonite. In this life you were Wonwoo’s.

Wonwoo didn’t win but he should’ve known you were going to give in to his desires. Despite your sneaky ways he knew he could always trust you but still it had caught him off guard when you had given him the onyx ropes upon entering your small cottage.

“You wanted to tie me up right? Now’s your chance.” The amount of trust that laid behind your eyes was overwhelming. And no one, not even his mother, had trusted him like you did.

He placed the ropes down on your old wooden bed and kissed you with everything in him.

When his mother would tell him the damsel in distress stories during bed time. She always described the ending kiss as if it were the most magical thing in the universe, with fireworks exploding and butterflies running mayhem in pits of stomachs. But you weren’t a damsel in distress and his mother’s description of a true love’s kiss didn’t do this kiss justice.

Wonwoo very much felt like he was thrown in the middle of space and was now dumbly floating around. His body felt lighter than air, but heavy at the same time. He didn’t feel fireworks nor the butterflies but he did feel the adrenaline dip in the mouth of his stomach and the strikes of lightning that raced through his veins. He felt brand new, and he was ready to give himself to you, just like he had many nights before but this time it felt different, important and special.

Maybe Wonwoo was finally releasing the lock he had around his heart, but if he didn’t know any better--and he didn’t. He was positive that what he was feeling for you in this moment of vulnerability was love.

“I want to take my time.” He whispered against your lips as your fingers toyed with the buttons of his shirt. “I want to be with you forever but I don’t know how.” He crushed the hem of your silk black shirt between his fingers. Your hands stopped their movements and you pulled away. They wandered up to his cheek, your index finger playing with the tiny sunspots that only you were able to see. He looked so small and scared and you were sure you mirrored his same expression because the grip he had on your shirt got tighter.

You had been in love once. Many lifetimes ago and they had been taken from you because of what you were. You promised yourself you would never love again and you spent years alone, until you found yourself in the odd old tavern.

For as long as you lived in the old supernatural town, you never once paid attention to that old tavern. Until one night during blue moon much like the one tonight, a little over a year ago you found yourself drawn to it. Your feet carried you there by themselves, your mind on autopilot and before you knew you were sitting in front of the bar, looking at a curious boy that resembled the prince you grew up hating, but that was impossible because he had been dead for years.

To your surprise he was the prince and he had spilled two strawberry margaritas on you ruining your new favorite shirt. You cursed him out, wondering why he wasn’t deader than dead as he apologized. He dropped everything before taking your hand in his and leading you up the rickety old stairs that led to the room above. Without a word he tore his poor excuse of a room apart until he found you a clean shirt and you put it on not after pushing him out of the room for some privacy.

If you had known that you would still keep that same shirt hidden deep in your closet you would’ve laughed because that was the first night you started to fall for him and every passing moment you were with him felt like you were being reborn again. Like a part of you didn’t die behind the flames of the burning fire as you watched your lover yell out for his life. That memory was buried deep in your mind and you had never told Wonwoo in fear that he would look at you differently. Like you weren’t his lifeline anymore, so, you kept it locked away inside of your heart just like the love you felt for him. One day you would tell him just not tonight. Tonight you wanted to keep your secret and instead be with him in every way possible.

“Take your time but tonight make me yours please.”

Wonwoo didn’t tie the ropes hard enough and it made you laugh at his shaking hands as they traveled down your flushed out body. You had assured him that you had suffered through worse than the burning of ropes against your skin. But he paid no attention to your statement as he finished his second and final loop on your bedpost.

He kissed his way down your body slowly, giving extra love the parts he knew would have you unraveling in no time.

This was one of the things you loved most about him, instead of getting what he wanted and leaving. He took his time getting to know your wants and needs. You’ve had many lovers in the past and none of them had felt nor treated you the way Wonwoo did.

With love.

“You feel so warm already.” He whispered against the skin of your stomach, slowly getting closer to where you wanted him most. His hands squeezed your thigh and prided them open as he kissed his way further down, hovering his mouth against your clothed core.

You whimpered, tugging at his roots in attempts to bring him closer, “Please Wonwoo please.” You let out an exasperated breath. “I need you close.”

Wonwoo smirked leaving an open mouthed kiss against your core, savoring your honeyduke sweetness that seeped through your panties. Your grip on his hair got tighter as he continued to tease you. Kissing you and humming like he was tasting his last meal. He lapped up once more groaning before hooking his thumbs against the waistband of your panties and pulled them down, sitting down on his knees and throwing them somewhere in your room, joining your already discarded clothes.

The coolness of the wind coming in from your open window made the goosebumps rise against your soft skin. Wonwoo sucked in a breath as he took in how wet you were and for him.

No matter how many times he found himself in this position, your body's reaction to him always left him floored. “Take a picture, it will last longer.” You joked, placing your leg against his shoulder and pulling him down towards you again. Catching him off guard, just like you always did.

“One day I will and then I won’t stop and by the end of it all, I’ll have my own private collection.” He winked laying down in between your legs again. He kissed up your thighs alternating between the two, taking his sweet time like he always did.

“I bet you’d like that...f-fuck.” Wonwoo lapped up your entrance and wrapped his perfect lips around your clit. He closed his eyes savoring your taste, his blunt nails digging into the skin of your thighs.

“Y-Your mouth was—ahh, your mouth was made from the h-heavens.” You arched your back, pushing his head closer with your legs entrapping him. Your hands grabbing on the ropes as you felt your orgasm approach.

A throaty groan fell out of his mouth, sending the vibration up your clit and through your body. The knot in your stomach starting to get tighter. Wonwoo’s index and middle finger swirls around in your pussy. Bathing in the wetness before he slowly inserts them. He always knew you were warm inside but today it felt like you were on fire and he couldn’t wait to devour you further.

He hums happily pulling away and sits up, your leg falling from his shoulder making you whine at the loss of his mouth. “Patience baby I’ll give you everything you want tonight.” He assures before pushing his fingers in even further, your heat entrapping him.

“Ah, f-fuck this feels better than my charms.

“You have sex charms?” He poses curiously. You were a book full of fairytales and he couldn’t wait to read you front in back until the last day of his life.

“I have charms for a lot of things.” You throw your head back in pleasure as he lets his fingers take control. “I-I can show them to you one day.” You let out a breath as you felt your orgasm nearing.

“Why not now?” He brought his thumb onto your clit and started rubbing figure eights circumoniously, while his fingers pistoned into you. If anyone were to ask him what his favorite pastime was he would cheekily answer that it was you falling apart because of him.

“Don’t need them...you make me cum.” You arched your back and pulled on your ropes as your orgasm flooded over you. You moaned Wonwoo’s name like an old incantation in your book of spells as he continued to help you ride out your orgasm.

You always looked beautiful to Wonwoo, like a goddess or an angel sent from above. But the way you looked when you fell apart underneath him, was breathtaking and he wanted to remember it forever.

“Did that feel good?” He takes his fingers out, his palm rubbing soothing circles against your thigh as he brings them up to his lips. Your spent pussy clenched over nothing as you watched him, eyes locked with yours savoring you.

You nod, “It was orgasmic.” You joked. Your weak attempt of a pun makes him laugh. You freed yourself from his poor attempt at binding you to the bed and sat up. Wonwoo watched you dreamily as you wrapped your arms around his neck planting a soft kiss to his wet lips.

“Make me cum again my prince.”

“I’ll make you cum until first light.”

Wonwoo kept true to his word, pulling four more orgasms from you. Each one more intense than the other and you found yourself craving for more, but he had stopped sensing your exhaustion.

He had been right earlier that night in the forest. You were strongest on Hallows Eve and underneath a blue moon, but when it came to Wonwoo you were weak. You didn’t mind it because it was to someone who would without a doubt catch you if you fell hard.

You had read it in his cards the first and only time you drew them for him. You didn’t voice it because his face when you had exposed his kinks was priceless. And because you feared that if you did you would lose him before you could tell him how you felt about him. You weren’t sure when you would but if he kept looking at you and holding you like you were his entire universe. You would without a doubt forget your fears and confess.

“I love you.” Wonwoo’s eyes got wide as he brought his hands up to his mouth covering it. “Sorry I—I fuck I-“

“I love you.” You copied his actions. The two of you letting the silence overcome your ragged breaths. Until he laughed, making you laugh as well. You grabbed his hand and brought it close to your body.

It was unbelievable how afraid the two of you had been when the two of you had unknowingly fallen for each other long ago. Wonwoo sat up on his elbows and moved so he was hovering over you again. “I’ve never once loved, and I’m sure I love you more than anything in this world.” He pecked your lips repeatedly before laying half of his body on yours carefully and putting his head against your chest humming happily.

“I once loved but I didn’t love them the way I love you Wonwoo.”

“That must mean I’m special princess.”

You rolled your eyes, your hands coming up to his shoulders and kneading out the tension that had formed over years of unnecessary stress. “Not a princess...but you’re more than special.”

“In my eyes you’ll always be my princess.” He left a chaste kiss against your collar bone. “But you’re more than special to me too baby, and since we’ve established that can you tell me what’s been bothering you all night.”

“Nothing’s bothering me, why are you asking?”

“You didn’t drink tonight and back when we were walking home you were spaced out half of the time.” He traced a finger up your side teasingly.

You sighed and stopped massaging his shoulders. He was right you had been distracted for half the night wondering how you should tell him the last secret you had. This one you couldn’t keep hidden away because it involved him and his biggest heartbreak.

“I drew a card from my deck this morning.”

He hummed and lifted his head, his eyebrows knitting together, “What was it, anything bad?”

You bit your lip, knitting your fingers into his hair. “The Empress, sometimes I read her as a fertility card an-“

“You’re pregnant?” Wonwoo sat up, your hand falling onto his chest. You giggled, shaking your head profusely. Your contraception charms were safer than any kind of contraception out there.

“God no Wonwoo, not now, but you told me your mom loved peonies right?”

“Yeah, the palace was always filled with them.”

“Okay well for days I’ve been seeing peonies pop up randomly around this place and I just thought it was a coincidence. When I drew my card this morning, The Empress was surrounded by peonies, but I really didn’t think anything of it. When I entered the tavern last night there were peonies in the flowerbed growing. And now that I think about it they were there too the night I met you.”

“What are you saying, that my mom is here somehow?” His voice was filled with hope and you tried hard not to cringe at the sound. The thought had crossed your mind a few times but you always had to remember that even though the supernatural existed peacefully in this world. That rule didn’t apply to the dead, they had strict rules on their side of the realm. If his mom was making an attempt to contact him he was sacrificing her chances at reincarnation.

“I’m saying that maybe your mom didn’t tell you who she really was.”

“Are you saying she was a witch like you?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt comfort. Everything about his childhood made sense. The random peonies that would appear in the garden during the mid of winter. The stories that didn’t feel like stories but more like memories. And her sudden death. He wasn’t sure if his father had known or if he had found out that morning, but whatever the case was he was positive that she had sent you to him. His greatest and last gift to him from her and had never felt more at peace.

“Yes.”

#seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo smut #wonwoo fluff

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smmahamazing · 4 years ago

Photo

There's been a pep in my step today because......

It's MirSan day!!!!!

I'm so excited to finally share with you guys a fic that I've been working on since last October. It's gone through some big changes, but I'm proud of it. And EVEN BETTER is that I've teamed up with @eliza-faust-diary, who has created an amazing piece of art to go with it! I'm itching for y'all to see it! So I'll get off my soapbox LOL. Make sure you guys check out the MirSan Collection on AO3 and everything posted from @dayofmirsan!

Thanks to the mods for setting this up!

Summary: Miroku Kibe has been irrevocably in love with Sango Tanaka for years. His fear of rejection has always kept him from attempting to get to know her, but when he finds her all by herself at an engagement party, will Miroku take the chance he's given and talk to her?

Read on AO3 and FFN

"So anyways, we didn't find our way back home until the next morning, and we still never found her shoes again!"

Miroku attempted a heartfelt chuckle. Apparently, the last bit of her story was supposed to be some big finale, or a play on words, or an inside joke that he wasn't part of? To be honest, he hadn't been paying all that much attention. He had been trying to find a way out of the conversation for quite a while, but the girl in question ('Is her name Yuki? No….Yuca…..or is that the vegetable?') seemed to talk a mile a minute. And there had been no shortage of stories to tell, much to his disappointment.

"Well…" Miroku stuttered, trying to spit out a sentence that didn't involve trying to figure out her name. "I think I see….I'm just gonna….head over there."

It was probably the flimsiest getway he had ever used on a girl, but his brain felt like mush after sitting through too many of her idiotic stories, and Miroku desperately needed to isolate himself. There was only so much socializing he could do in one night and he didn't want to use up all the energy he could spare for some random girl he cared nothing for.

Miroku walked over to the kitchen and pulled out a fresh beer from the fridge. After taking a generous first sip, he lightly leaned back on the countertop and looked out into the living room. The kitchen was designed with an open room concept, with only a small bar separating it from the living room. From his spot, Miroku could oversee the rest of the party guests mingling throughout the apartment.

He recognized a couple of faces that he might have seen around campus over the years, but for the most part found himself amongst a crowd of people of which he didn't have an inkling of who they were. It didn't bother him much though, not when he could hear Kagome's boisterous laugh from across the living room. He let a small smirk don his face as he once again raised his drink to his lips for another sip.

Today was Inuyasha and Kagome's engagement party.

Miroku normally didn't go to shindigs like this, but over the past couple of years, Kagome had grown to be a very good friend of Miroku's, and he wanted to support her in any way he knew how. That, and Inuyasha practically begged him to come.

Engagement parties were not Inuyasha's thing. Parties in general would tend to put him in a foul mood, and Inuyasha did whatever he could to worm his way out of attending one. But all Kagome needed to do was give Inuyasha those big, soulful, puppy dog eyes of hers, and the next thing you know, he was front and center for the biggest event of the year - until the wedding that is.

Inuyasha didn't have many friends, at least not friends that he could proudly call his own. Most of the partygoers were mutual friends of both Inuyasha and Kagome, but Miroku knew that they only came to be on friendly terms with the surly hanyou because of his bubbly, outgoing fianceé.

Miroku's friendship with Inuyasha also fell under that category. He met Kagome during his internship at her family's shrine a few years ago - even though they all went to high school together - where they became fast friends due to Kagome's friendly personality, which of course led him to also becoming friends with her boyfriend-now-fiance - but Miroku could say with confidence that his friendship with Inuyasha had grown to something bigger than just being acquainted through Kagome.

Which was still a wild concept for Miroku to grasp. Miroku wouldn't say he was introverted, but he mostly liked to keep to himself. He was an only child to a set of parents who died when he was young, putting him under the guardianship of an old family friend - Mushin. Mushin did his best to raise Miroku, but he didn't really have a great idea about what it was like to raise a child, and Miroku learned early on it was better to grow up than just acting like the child he was.

In the end, Miroku had a hard time relating to most kids his age. He didn't watch the same type of television shows, play games, or collect action figures like the boys he grew up around. Others found him...intimidating, which led to a lonely childhood. But as the years went by, Miroku found that he began to care less and less about the whispered gossip that followed him as he grew up.

Miroku knew Inuyasha also had a rough childhood; perhaps that was the reason they gravitated to each other so easily. Not that they talked about it all that much. That was the great thing about their friendship, it didn't require a lot of talking.

His friendship with Kagome gave him enough of that. That girl really knew how to talk.

Miroku was shaken from his thoughts as Inuyasha sidled up to him, jabbing his fist into his shoulder lightly before leaning up against the countertop beside Miroku, his own drink in hand. "So, have you grown the balls to go talk to her yet, or are you gonna hide in my kitchen all night?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, my friend," Miroku answered, keeping his eye contact on anything but the hanyou beside him.

Because it was a lie. Miroku knew exactly who Inuyasha was talking about.

Sango Tanaka.

Miroku had been in love with her for years. Practically all his life if he was dramatic about it.

Miroku first met Sango when they were in high school. She was a "rough and tough" type of girl, known to play a variety of sports, depending on the season, and trained in a number of martial arts. Her family came from a long line of tajiya, and that was a title she wore proudly. Sango was loud, and opinionated, and didn't take anyone's shit. She never failed to go after what she wanted, and she gave it her all every time.

She was everything Miroku wasn't, and funnily enough, she was everything Miroku ever could have wanted.

He still remembered the first time he had ever laid eyes on Sango. It was the first day of high school, and Miroku had just walked into his history classroom. There had still been ten minutes before the bell was scheduled to ring, signaling everyone to start making their way to their first class of the day. Miroku always liked getting to his classes as early as possible so he could get the best seat.

When he was in middle school, he would always be the first one to enter the classroom, but not this day. Sitting in the front row was a girl, enraptured in a small paperback book. Long, velvet brown hair that went halfway down her back. She wore a faded pink long sleeved shirt that accentuated the natural muscle of her arms, and when she turned around to stare him down with those hazel eyes, Miroku was sure he stopped breathing.

She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Miroku didn’t know how long he had been standing there staring at her. It wasn't until she gave him a simple greeting that Miroku snapped himself back to reality. He responded with a small greeting of his own, choosing the seat right behind her. At that moment, Miroku knew she'd be the only girl for him.

They spent the rest of the time together in companionable silence. Soon enough, the bell rang and slowly students started trickling into the classroom. She didn't seem to have any friends in this class, which was all the better for Miroku. It felt like he could have a part of her without having to share with anyone else.

She didn't speak to him again after that first day. Several times, Miroku had attempted to work up the courage to talk to her - about anything - but he chickened out every time, and his fear of her reaction to him only grew worse as the years went by. The more he looked on at her life from the background, the more intimidated he was of her. Yet, it only made his fondness for her grow.

She was spunky. By the time they ended their first year, it was known throughout the school that Sango was not a girl to be trifled with. The biggest factor in that perception of her was the fight that year between Sango and another girl - Aki was her name? The girl in question was a real piece of work; generally thought of as "popular", but really, that was just a code word for the term "bitch". Miroku hadn't been there to personally see it, but the rumor was that Aki had been bullying another girl - a transfer from a religious school in the next city over - and ended up in a fist fight with Sango. Aki threw the first punch, but Sango made sure she'd throw the last, while simultaneously making sure everybody understood that bullies at Hiro High wouldn't be tolerated.

She was given a week's suspension for her part in the fight, but she ended up making a life-long friend in the girl she had defended, Kagome Higurashi. They were inseparable ever since.

Sango's sense of loyalty was both something that Miroku had a hard time grasping, yet something he desperately wanted from her. Despite his sometimes asocial mannerisms, Miroku hadn't been a loner in high school; he had his own small group of friends he would sit with at lunch, or work with on group projects. The term 'friends', though, seemed a little much to define the relationships he held with those people. 'Acquaintance' was a better term. They might all shoot the shit together every now and then, but he never let his guard down around any of them.

The Miroku Kibe that they knew was a fake, hidden by a well tailored mask. His friends were nice enough people, and it wasn't lost to Miroku that they trusted him enough with some of their deeper thoughts. But no matter how much he wanted to let them into his own heart, he always managed to pull back at the last second, placing another wall between himself and the world.

Miroku fantasized about letting Sango be the person to break all his walls. He was certain if anyone could do it, she could.

But there had never been a chance for them, Miroku's own cowardice made sure of that. Instead, he sat on the sidelines, watching Sango and Kagome grow into close friends. Eventually their group of two turned into three when Kagome introduced Sango to Inuyasha. He was the "new kid" their second year of high school, and Kagome had been tasked with showing him around and making sure he felt "welcomed".

Of course 'welcomed' meant showing the new kid where the lunchroom was and where the best junk food machines were, not getting caught making out in the janitors closet, but to each his own, you know?

And yet, here he was, almost eight years since their sophomore year, attending Kagome and Inuyasha's engagement party. Honestly, it had been of no surprise to Miroku to hear about their engagement. Inuyasha and Kagome were your textbook definition of "high school sweethearts". If Miroku believed in the whole "soulmate thing", he’d describe them as just that. They were polar opposites, like fire and ice. Inuyasha, the grumpy hanyou, and Kagome, the sweet girl next door.

Sometimes, Miroku could just gag from the cuteness of it all.

The couple that had been conversing with Kagome in the living room finally moved away, giving both Miroku and Inuyasha a clear view of the sliding glass doors that led out to the patio. Standing by herself, gazing out at the city below, was Sango. She was wearing a striped magenta shirt, the same color she wore on the day they met, with a pair of forest green pants. Even without all glittery jewelry or immaculate dresses, Sango was still the most beautiful woman at the party.

It was the perfect opportunity for Miroku to finally talk to her. All he had to do was walk up to her and start a conversation; nothing flashy or flirty, just small talk. He'd been doing it all night with random girls who felt the need to invade his personal space, so this should be easy.

The golf ball lodged in Miroku's throat said otherwise, as Miroku nearly choked on the beer he was drinking at the mere thought of trying to talk to her.

"Dude, you're being pathetic," Inuyasha said. Miroku finally turned his way to glare at him, but Inuyasha merely scoffed at him. "Don't give me that look, you haven't heard a single word I've said, too busy in la la land thinking about Sango."

"And how long did it take for you to propose to Kagome?" Miroku tried to circumvent the conversation away from himself, but Inuyasha was far too stubborn to let Miroku off the hook.

"Nuh uh, don't even try and compare us, it's not the same thing and you know it."

"Inuyasha - "

"Look, we both know that Sango is going to end up being Kagome's maid of honor, and if I'm being honest, you're the only person I would trust to be my best man."

Miroku was taken aback by Inuyasha's statement. Being a best man….It was a role he didn't think he'd ever really get to play. He never let anyone in deep enough for their first thought of the person who would play a pivotal role in something as important as a wedding to be Miroku. Inuyasha refused to look at him now, obviously embarrassed at such a display of emotion.

"I...would be honored to be your best man, Inuyasha," Miroku said slowly, almost in a hushed whisper. This felt like such an intimate moment for them, and Miroku did not wish to share it with anyone who could easily eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Keh, whatever." Miroku wanted to chuckle at his abrupt change in demeanor. Perhaps this is why they could work so well as friends; while others might be put off by Inuyasha's rough temperament, Miroku was always able to let his constant mood swings slide right off his shoulders.

"Anyways, with that being said, you and Sango will have to see a lot of each other to help out with this damn wedding, and I need you with your best foot forward," Inuyasha stepped around him to grab two unopened beers from the fridge. He took the half empty drink currently in Miroku's hand and replaced them with the unopened beers.

"Don't fuck this up," was the last thing Inuyasha told him as he turned away from him to walk back towards Kagome, leaving Miroku to stand by himself in the kitchen holding two cold beer cans. The cans began to sweat from the change in temperature, causing Miroku to grip them tighter so that they wouldn't slide right out of his hands.

Miroku could feel his body start to perspire. He could only hope that the purple t-shirt he donned for tonight would be dark enough to hide the sweat stains that he was sure would start to show up under his arms. Miroku swallowed the lump in his throat, and after a deep inhale and exhale, started making his way across the apartment.

'Hello, my name is Miroku? And you are?' No, that's too forthcoming, he could be more suave then that. 'Ahh Sango. It's such a beautiful night out, would you care for a beverage?' Ugh, somehow that almost sounded worse than the first one. 'I love you, please bear my children!'

Miroku stopped just before the sliding glass doors and mentally slapped himself. He needed to keep his wits about him! Miroku was a handsome, cool guy; talking to a beautiful woman like Sango should be as normal as breathing. He could strike up a simple conversation with her, right?

For Inuyasha. And Kagome.

And for himself.

Miroku could feel and see the slight trembling of his hand as he used the two pointer fingers of his right hand to slide the door open. It was a cool night, and Miroku was greeted with a crisp breeze. He greedily inhaled the clean breeze that carried wafts of patchouli to his nose. Gods, she was his favourite scent.

Sango didn't seem to hear him enter the balcony, or at least if she did she had yet to make a move to see who was disturbing her peace.

'Oh god, what if she wants to be alone and I'm just here to annoy her?'

Miroku shoved his negative thoughts aside, determined to give her a good impression of himself. He stretched his neck from one side to the other, cracking it a little to release some tension as he took that one last step towards her, his back straightened but not locked up, his head held high in an attempt to look calm and aloof.

And then he fell.

He fell.

A weirdly high pitched yelp erupted from his throat as his feet twitched and scuffed across the cement floor of the balcony, pushing his body too far forward for his feet to catch. What sort of loser trips over his own feet? All he had to do was take one small step and he would have been golden. Instead, he was slowly tripping over his own two fucking feet, still keeping hold of the two beer cans, as if their presence was actually important in the grand scheme of things. The only thing that could have been worse would be to face plant right on her bountiful breasts.

Which he fucking did.

Miroku was sure he had never been so embarrassed in his entire life. It wasn't as if Miroku hadn't dreamt of this moment - nuzzling his nose in the warmth of her soft skin, peppering her bare chest with tiny butterfly kisses. But this wasn't a dream, it was reality, and Miroku's reality included him basically motorboating a woman who he didn't know personally and didn't know him on a very public apartment balcony.

'Just fucking kill me now…'

Miroku tried to lift himself up as quickly as he could. He really did, but for some reason he just couldn't let go of those damn beer cans. He clutched them as if they were his lifelines, putting more and more of his full weight on the woman under him. Luckily, due to all her training, Sango could probably lift two of Miroku, and was able to help steady him.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?!" She exclaimed, unfazed by where his head had been and more concerned about his own wellbeing. She had taken his face in both hands, trying to assess if he had taken any injuries.

"Uhhh…" Say something you fool! Miroku's head felt fuzzy with her face so close to his. He tried to tell her he was okay, perhaps impart a most fervent apology on landed directly on her chest, but he couldn't seem to form a coherent sentence no matter how hard he thought about it. He had never been so close to her to take in the gold flecks that made her cinnamon eyes sparkle, and he was quickly becoming lost in them.

Instead, he belted out a cracked, "Beer?", still holding on to those damn cans.

Miroku hoped the ground would open up a portal to hell and drag him into it at this point. There was no way she'd want anything to do with him after this fiasco of a first encounter. Well, technically their second encounter. Either way, Miroku was fucked.

He thought that anyways, until he heard her chuckle, her lips turned up in a soft smile. She acted like he said something funny, not in a 'I'm laughing at you' way, but a 'wow you're funny' kind of way.

It was like music to his ears.

"A beer sounds good right now, thank you," she said, taking one of the beer cans out of his hands once he was steady on his feet. Miroku couldn't believe it, he was doing it! He was actually having a conversation with her! She wasn't rejecting him and accepted his offering of having a drink together! Even though he made a total fool of himself, nearly launching himself and the drinks off the balcony…..launching the drinks….The drinks….

THE DRINKS.

"Wait, Sango don't - "

It was too late. Miroku had been too far in his own thoughts to think about the fact that he had shaken up the carbonated alcoholic beverages quite a bit during his tumble, and Sango had already flipped the tab into the aluminum can. The next few seconds felt like forever, played in slow motion. The can let out a faint hiss before a small geyser of beer exploded upward, the can continuing to overflow with foam. Sango let out a small shriek, covering her face as best she could as she became drenched in beer.

Miroku stood there, still as a statue, as he watched streams of beer slowly trickle down her face. Their movements had a soft quality to it, as if they were caressing the soft lines of her cheek, gliding down the line of her nose and outlining her plump lips.

It was downright cruel how turned on he could get in a situation that was probably embarrassing for Sango. He should be doing something, like running inside to grab her a towel or asking her if she was okay. Instead, he was staring - no, leering - at her like some kind of pervert.

The thought was enough to break Miroku from his thoughts. He had a reputation for being a lecher amongst the ladies, but that was a persona he didn't want associated with Sango. After all, she wasn't just any woman; she was someone he could see spending his life with. Which he actively did.

He lurched forward slightly, still unsure of exactly what he should be doing for her, but unwilling to just stand there. There was a small table with a couple of chairs pushed to the right side of the balcony. Miroku threw the arm that held his own beer in that direction, intending on setting it down to cover all his attention on her. Unfortunately, he wasn't paying enough attention to the can to make sure it was set on the table properly.

The can slipped from his hands, slowly making its descent, past the edge of the table, and straight for the ground.

Miroku barely heard the plonk of the can hitting the ground, nor the hissing that came right before the can exploded, twirling along the ground at their feet, covering them both with the sticky liquid.

In a feat that would have made the soccer team at their high school proud, Miroku used the side of his foot to kick the can straight through a gap in the bars of the balcony. The can continued to spew beer through the air as it made its descent onto an unsuspecting car parked on the opposite side of the street, the sickening crunch of the can cracking the windshield echoing off the walls of the buildings on either side of the road.

He didn't know what would have been worse, letting the can continue to douse them with beer or vandalize an automobile. Either way, he only hoped some God would have pity on him and allow the Earth to swallow him whole.

Of course, he could never be so lucky.

"Oh my...I am so sorry, let me get you a towel!" He said, spinning in place and practically barrelling through the sliding glass door.

It seemed like no one else in the apartment had any clue what transpired outside, too busy with the jovial nature of celebrating the engagement of two young people in love. It gave Miroku a small bit of relief, knowing that Sango was free from the embarrassment that came with the snickers and stares of being laughed at.

It wasn't enough to steady his shaking hands as he began rummaging through Kagome's kitchen cupboards, trying to find something big and deep enough to fill with water. Three cupboards in, Miroku found a large mixing bowl and began filling it with water, searching through more drawers to find the kitchen towels, practically grabbing the whole stack once he found them. Once he had everything, he carefully made his way through the crowd of people. By now, he started to receive a few weird looks from anyone who bothered to look towards him as he passed by, but no one tried to stop him or ask about what he was doing.

He ignored it all in favor of the woman standing outside. She was fiddling with the ends of her blouse that now clung to her form from the stickiness of the beer. He awkwardly pinched his knuckle before reaching for the door in an attempt to keep his eyes looking anywhere but her body. This was absolutely not the time for his philandering ways to make this woman hate him more than she probably does already. He could see the small movements of her shoulders as she shivered when a quick breeze hit her, and any lecherous thoughts he might have had drifted away as guilt began to constrict his chest.

This was obviously a sign that they were never meant to be. How could a sophisticated and beautiful woman like Sango be interested in a schmuck like Miroku? The man couldn't even do something as simple as handing her a can of beer, how was he supposed to take care of her?

Not that she'd want him to take care of her, or needed anyone to do so. She was strong, and smart, and so fucking talented; she could do anything she set her mind to. Miroku could only hope to be even half the person she was, and a woman like Sango didn't mingle with people as lame as Miroku.

He carefully made his way through the back door, immediately set the bowl of water and towels onto the small table sitting off to the side and pulled the chair out for Sango to sit in.

"I-I brought a bowl of warm water and some towels to wipe the beer off with. Here, you can sit here. If you want to anyways, or you can stand if that makes you feel more comfortable or…." Miroku turned his body away from hers, grimacing as his tongue continued to word vomit in front of her. He couldn't believe he was still finding new ways to completely embarrass himself in front of her.

But instead of a stern glare or a heated comment about him, he was greeted with a small but warm chuckle.

"Thank you," she smiled at him, taking the offered seat and one of the dry towels, submerging it into the water and wringing it out.

He couldn't stop from staring at her, watching the way the muscles in her hands grew taut as she squeezed the towel, or the way a few errant droplets of water would cascade down her arms as she rubbed the towel into her skin.

She was truly gorgeous. The setting sun made her positively glow, her freshly cleaned skin gleaming when the light hit it just right. She sighed contentedly as she continued to wash away the sticky substance, paying extra attention to her face and chest. Miroku pulled up the other chair and fumbled with one of the dry towels, keeping himself too busy to notice the way she ran the damp towel over her collarbones. The towel wasn't squeezed out as much this time around, and it was almost painful for Miroku to watch as several small rivulets of water ran down her shirt, molding around the tops of her breasts.

The sound of the water splashing as she dunked the towel back in acted like a slap to the face, reminding him he needed to keep his eyes to himself. Instead, he submerged his own dry towel halfway so that he could wipe off his own beer soaked skin.

"You seem familiar,"

Miroku paused. Despite the fact they were both sitting together, he hasn't expected her to want to talk with him. It was a question disguised as a statement, one that he wasn't quite sure how to answer. Not in a way that wouldn't make him seem like a stalker, anyways.

"I believe we went to the same high school,"

"You went to Hiro High, too? What a small world," she chuckled as she continued to stare at him. Her eyes widened slightly as a thought seemed to pass by the forefront on her mind. "Wait...didn't we have a class together?"

'Several,' was the first response to come to mind, but he didn't want to make it seem like he was keeping any sort of tabs on her over the years.

"Yes, I believe so. That's where I recognized Kagome when we first met,"

Miroku could feel himself beginning to sweat under her vigilant gaze.

"History,"

A confused look sprawled across his face. "Come again?"

"That's where I recognize you from. Freshman year. You were the kid that got to class almost as early as me,"

Miroku was stunned. They had shared a small handful of classes together over their high school years, but the one that stuck out the most for her was first period history during their freshman year? That was nearly ten years ago!

"Uhh….y-yes. With Mr. Myoga,"

"Sometimes, I don't know how we made it through that class," she laughed, remembering the long mornings of boring anecdotes and not enough energy to spare between the class.

"Well, someone as….aged, as Mr. Myoga had many stories to tell about the vibrant history of Japan," Miroku's lips curved up slightly. One of the benefits of being a flea youkai was living through each monumental event that made up the history of Japan. Although his method of teaching it was...lacking.

"He made the topic so boring! He preferred listening to the sound of his own voice more than actually teaching us about the subject. Honestly, it should be illegal to hold such a boring class that early in the morning."

"Fewer words could be truer," Miroku grinned, delighting in the easy smile that steadily grew on her face. She was so beautiful when she smiled. The edges of her lips almost seemed to touch the wrinkles around her eyes as she smiled, small dimples becoming noticeable on her cheeks as she talked.

It was obvious that Sango lived a very happy and joyous life.

"So, what's the story with you and Kagome? How'd you meet?"

Miroku never expected for Sango to take control of the conversation like she did. He expected that he would be the one to ask her a litany of dumb, intrusive questions about their friends engagement, the weather, or how her day had gone. And she would smile politely at him as he rambled, giving him simple, flat answers in an attempt to humor him.

Instead, she barrelled through, asking him a variety of simple 'get to know you' questions - What did you major in? Where do you work? What's your favorite color? Pepsi or Coke? - with the perfect opportunity for Miroku to turn the question back on her as soon as he answered. Perhaps she could sense how nervous he was around her. It was definitely easier than Miroku doing it all on his own, that's for sure.

It wasn't long before the both of them were laughing and joking around with each other. Part of him couldn't believe how easy it was to talk to Sango, although it wasn't a huge surprise. Miroku found practically every aspect of her life interesting and would gladly sit and converse with her for hours - eternity if she'd let him.

There was one thing he had to know; was she dating someone? It would be a devastating blow if she was, but after getting to know her for just a little bit, Miroku knew he needed her in his life. Even if he couldn't have her the way he truly wanted her.

Now all he needed to do was come up with a way to ask her that wasn't creepy or weird. Or intrusive.

'Just act….natural…'

"So, how have you and your date enjoyed the party so far?"

Nice. Smooth and natural.

"Oh, I didn't come here with anyone," she responded hesitantly.

"My apologies! I didn't mean to assume,"

"It's okay, I understand," Sango smiled, although it didn't shine through her eyes like before. She turned her attention to something off in the distance, wringing her hands together in her lap. Miroku suddenly felt a little selfish bringing the subject up at all.

"I hope I didn't upset you somehow. I swear on my father's grave that was never my intention,"

"What? Oh, no!" Sango turned back to him with wide eyes. "I didn't think that at all! It's just…" She looked away again, staring intently at her hands folded in her lap. "It's just...sort of a touchy subject for me right now. I've not had the best luck in the dating circuit,"

"Forgive me Sango, I have a hard time believing a woman as beautiful as you has a hard time getting anything she wants,"

Miroku's statement caused a pink blush to cover her cheeks.

"Yeah, well, that's just the problem, isn't it?" Sango mumbled. Miroku kept silent, watching the indecision flash across Sango's face, either caused by her deliberating her next words or whether or not she wanted to say something at all.

She looked up at him next, face still a little pink from embarrassment, yet she looked up at him with an air of determination. Her eyes were hard and resolute, but Miroku could see the tenderness behind it all.

"Most of the guys I've dated think I'm too assertive."

Miroku was unsurprised by this, but a part of him still had a hard time believing such a thing could be said about Sango. Her assertiveness was something to be cherished, not looked down upon.

"Sounds like most guys are just too insecure to handle you,"

Sango let out a small breath of laughter. "I'm sure they would all balk at the insinuation that they have crippling male egos. Much easier to dump me and go about their lives,"

"Well, that's just their loss, isn't it?"

Sango couldn't help but lock eyes with the mysterious man sitting next to her. She had heard that phrase before from a variety of people. It was always someone else's loss when she was kicked to the curb, and it always made her so angry whenever she heard it. It certainly never seemed like it was a loss to them; if anything, they acted better off. People usually said that to her in a veiled attempt to comfort her, knowing it was because of her own temperament that they left.

Sango always had quite the mouth on her, and unless she could learn to tame it, no man would give her any time of day.

Yet, she didn't get the same vibes from Miroku. He seemed truly genuine when he said it was their loss. As if it was better for her to be her rude, straight to the point, brash self instead of the meek, silent woman in the background most men wanted her to be.

Sango was truly intrigued by this man.

She wasn't lying when she said she remembered him from their shared history class. Although, he had been more of a background character in the story of her life. She could recall them sharing a few classes over the years, and she had heard through the grapevine that he was sort of a ladies man, but they effectively went different ways after high school, and Sango pushed back any thoughts of him to the back of her mind.

Then one day, he was suddenly thrust back into her life via her best friend since forever, Kagome.

It was nice to know that Kagome had a friend she could talk to about her work. Sango was the dutiful best friend, always giving Kagome the time and attention she deserved as she talked about her day, but oftentimes Kagome would get caught up in the history of an artefact or a traditional dance, which was likely to go right over Sango's head. Miroku became a sort of conduit for Kagome's ramblings, saving Sango from having to pretend to be as knowledgeable about the subject as Kagome, or ask a million questions.

It was a friendship that blossomed over the years, as they do when Kagome is involved. Kagome's stories started to involve more of Miroku and less of work, eventually even adding Inuyasha to the mix. Yet, despite all the talk, Sango had yet to meet the famed 'Miroku'.

Kagome always said good things about him. He was quiet with an old soul. He had far more wisdom than most people his age and he never backed down at lending out a helping hand. A real gentleman.

Inuyasha's only helpful comments on the subject were that he was a 'lecherous monk'.

Which led to some confusing ideas about the man.

She still wasn't sure what to think about him. She could tell he was nervous; it was cute, the way he stuttered and rambled. And despite the rumors of him being a ladies man, he never seemed to ogle her or make her feel uncomfortable - despite literally landing his face in her chest. Their conversations so far had been easy and fun, something she really hadn't felt with another person in quite a long time.

Miroku was in heaven. He didn't think he could ever tire of talking to her, or listening to her talk about anything. She was funny, able to pull a joke out of the most basic of topics. And opinionated. Miroku was always up for a good debate, and he was sure Sango could give him a run for his money.

He didn't know how much time had passed as they stared at one another, probably only minutes yet it felt like hours. There was a heat developing between the two - not a smouldering heat, like the sun, that enveloped your whole body, but a soft warmth, like a candle, that started in the tips of the fingers, working its way slowly up the arms to take root in the chest. She just...looked him up and down with those wide cinnamon eyes, not in a lewd way, but with a sense that he was something new, something she had never seen before.

Once again, Miroku was stunned by her beauty. She truly was a goddess among mortals. Was it considered excessive the amount of times he obsessed over her looks? Possibly, but Miroku didn't care. Sango was a woman deserving of unbridled attention.

This was it. This was his in. He was gonna be confident and suave and somehow convince her to go on a date with him. He was going to use everything he learned from all the women he's been with and use it for good. For Sango.

"Sango, I - "

"Hey you two!" The raucous sounds of the party inside became louder as someone Miroku didn't recognize leaned their head outside. "It's time to toast the newly engaged couple!" And without another look back, they disappeared back inside, leaving the door wide open for them to follow.

Miroku could have screamed.

Why couldn't anything go right when it came to Sango? Their whole ambiance was ruined now. She was distracted by the party inside, and now there was even more of a chance someone will try and come outside.

"Well, I guess we should be getting back inside," Sango sighed, slowly pushing her chair back to stand up.

"Sango, wait!" Miroku leapt to his feet. He just needed one more minute with her! He didn't want this opportunity to go to waste. "I-I'd really like to see you again. Can..I..can I get your number? You know, we can...make plans or...something."

Well, it wasn't his best bit of courting, but it was better than being a coward and not talking to her, he supposed. And if she said no? At least he would have a definite answer.

She looked at him for another moment before giving him a soft smile. "I'd like that," she said, holding her hand out for his phone.

Miroku scrambled for the device sitting in his front pocket, unlocking it and bringing up a 'New Contact' screen before holding it out to her with shaky hands. She tapped away, keeping the screen close to her face. She kept the phone to her face for a good amount of time, longer than she needed to if she was just putting her contact information. She pulled out her own phone from her pocket and waited for it to vibrate with a notification before closing out his own phone and handing it back to him.

"I'll see you around, Miroku?" Sango asked, so innocently yet Miroku we sure there was a layer of seduction there.

In a last ditch attempt to be anything but the loser he felt he had been all night, Miroku responded with confidence. "I look forward to it, my dear Sango,"

Sango departed after that, not before giving him a once over with her eyes and sporting what Miroku would describe as a 'devilish' grin.

That one look would carry Miroku into the next year, he was sure of it.

Miroku became deaf and blind when it came to the party inside, opening his phone back up and going straight to his messaging app. There would be time later for him to memorize her number - you know, just in case he accidentally lost it before they could set up a date - but he was curious to see what she texted to herself.

He expected to see 'Sango Tanaka' as the subject line, but was surprised to see a different name under the most recent message:

Slayer🍑😘

[Sent @ 6:15 PM] Next Friday, 7PM, Tanaka Dojo 📿

There was….much for Miroku to unpack here. The first of which was the nickname she gave herself. It was well known that the peach emoji was frequently used to represent one's derriere. Was her choice to use that particular emoji a coincidence, or was she privy to the fact that Miroku was indeed an ass man?

Especially when it came to Sango's gloriously toned and plump backside.

Miroku could have written an entire dissertation on why Sango chose that nickname if he had the time. Instead, he gravitated towards the message she sent herself. Normally people sent little one word messages, just enough to bridge the gap between cellular devices. Instead, it looked like Sango set up the details for their first date.

Their first date.

Just thinking those three little words left him feeling giddy, his heart pumping so heavily in his chest, Miroku could practically see the organ trying to rip itself from its fleshy prison.

Miroku finally looked up from his phone and gazed inside at the party. Just like earlier, the crowd of guests inside parted in just the right way so that he had a perfect view of Sango. She was leaning backwards against the kitchen counter, cradling a slender glass of something bubbly - probably champagne. She was standing by herself, a gentle smile on her face as she watched everyone gather around the Kagome and a slightly nervous looking Inuyasha.

It was like looking at a freshly finished puzzle. Every piece meticulously placed in just the right way, resulting in a release of endorphins just by looking at the fruits of one's hard work.

Sango was his puzzle.

There were still a few pieces to put together here and there, but the hard part was over with. Now was the time for Miroku to take those few random puzzle pieces and finish his work of art.

A life with Sango.

Perhaps he was a tad crazy for having such strong emotions for this woman, but who was he to argue with the pounding of his heart whenever he saw her picture or the butterflies in his stomach whenever she spoke. If his feelings for her were wrong, then he didn't want to be right. He would show them all that Miroku Kibe and Sango Tanaka were meant to be together.

Miroku closed his phone and shoved it into his pocket, resolute in the path he was about to take. Despite the loud, raucous energy of the crowd inside, Miroku could feel several pairs of eyes on him as he made his way inside. Not too long ago, Miroku might have been put off by the interfering actions of his friends, but now he could only feel thankful for them. Thankful that they would let him share even a smidgen of their spotlight, even just between the three of them.

The sounds of the crowd, the eyes of his curious friends, he ignored them all in favor of the woman standing by herself in the kitchen as he walked towards the bar to grab his own glass of already poured champagne. Sango looked up in his direction as he approached and offered him a warm smile. Miroku simply smiled back, leaning back against the kitchen counter beside her.

Sango deserved to have someone to stand by her - whether it be at the store or waiting for the bus, through bad times and good times, even at your best friends engagement party. And Miroku was going to be the one to do just that.

Because she was just the girl he had been looking for.

#dayofmirsan #day of MirSan 2021 #mirsan #inuyasha #its finally here!!!

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bifrostarchivist · 4 years ago

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tma fic recs

hi i’ve been been going through my bookmarks so here’s a list of some of my favorite tma fics! a lot of these are pretty angsty though so you should heed the trigger warnings!

jon-centric fics

Farewell Wanderlust by CombatBootsAndDreams

Jonathan Sims never had enough time. It was always slipping through his fingers like sand through an hourglass. He could see it passing but could do nothing as it took more and more things from him. So he learned to measure everything in actions instead of seconds.

Or: The many moments used to measure the life of one Jonathan Sims, The Archivist.

i love this one it hurts me real bad!

the bell tolls by softlyblue

Jon knows about death, and he knows about dying. He tries to plan around his own.

this one also really hurts me!

Touch Me, Even it Hurts by AuralQueer

People don't really touch Jonathan Sims unless they want to hurt him. That's mostly fine. Jon has never been a tactile person, and he doesn't need anyone but himself.

Except the world is falling down around him, and loneliness aches, and sometimes he'll take anything - even cruelty - just to feel human again.

*A story set between s1 and s4, looking at Jon's relationship with touch, friendship, and his own humanity.

i cried over this one a lot yesterday! it’s wonderful and so fucking sad

jonmartin fics

the garden of forking paths by bibliocratic

Whatever he had predicted might happen, Jon wasn't expecting to survive upon demolishing the Panopticon. He certainly wasn't expecting to be rescued.

Instead, he wakes up in an alternative universe where he's never been the Archivist, and Martin Blackwood doesn't exist.

Martin Blackwood wakes up somewhere else entirely.

i love this one a lot! made me really fucking emotional

The Power of Self-Respect by IceEckos12 & PitViperOfDoom

Jon's life has never been easy, but he's now in a place where he has friends, his job isn't wretched, and best of all, he's dating Martin Blackwood. Things are finally starting to turn around for him, so of course that's when he learns that he must defeat Martin's seven exes in order to stay with him.

There's something fishy about this whole thing, Jon is sure of it. But the only way to find out what is to throw down the gauntlet and fight for his love.

the scout pilgrim au i never knew i needed! i went into this expecting crack but now every time it gets updated it’s all i can think about for the rest of the day and it is very painful. it’s so good.

Desperate Measures by quantumducky

Helen offers to help, and Jon is just tired and miserable enough to accept. Turns out her idea of "helping" is to turn his brain into confused mush and then make that Martin's problem. Somehow, it all works out.

this one! fuck! i love it. made me so sad. but also. a happy ending! i miss helen.

See the Line, where the Sky meets to Sea by The_Floating_World

When Jon is a child he looks into the infinite abyss of space. The Vast looks back into him.

also has some jon/oliver! some found family! vast!jon my beloved...

jongerry fics

Til Death, Parted by Hecatetheviolet

“But, yes, if you all really must know, I married Gerard Keay in Las Vegas.” The total stillness at the table would have better suited a painting than a group of very confused archival assistants. A blob of ketchup falls from the chip frozen halfway to Melanie’s mouth.

“You… married a ghost,” says Melanie, eventually, in a stilted, leading tone.

“Mhm,” says Jon.

A ghost story is something that can be so matrimonial, actually. Too bad Jon and Gerry didn't find that out until the wedding.

I ADORE THIS FIC. U KNOW THAT ONE JONGERRY LAS VEGAS WEDDING SHITPOST? IT’S THAT BUT SO MUCH MORE. GOD IT’S SO FUCKING HEARTBREAKING BUT ALSO HAS LIKE THESE COMEDIC MOMENTS THAT ARE JUST SO FUCKING GOOD. THE WAY THE WRITER WRITES THE JONGERRY DYNAMIC IS JUST. FUCK. IT’S AMAZING.

eager eye and willing ear by graveExcitement

Gerry investigates a paranormal mirror and is pulled into another universe, one where Jon has just burned his page.

i just. love this one.

jongerrymartin

Ghosts without Graves by Ostentenacity

“I’m already dead, after all.” Gerry smiles, a mirthless flash of teeth. “If I pop out of existence tomorrow, fine. If I stick around for a while, well—at least now I’ve got someone to talk to.” His tone of voice is still blasé, but his gaze falls heavily on Jon, as though asking, Right?

“Yes,” says Jon. “Yes, of course.”

---

When Jon wakes up from his coma, he finds that while Gerry may still be dead, he’s not exactly gone.

i love this one so much. made me happy. made me sad. it’s just wonderful.

jontim fics

Between Sleeping and Waking by voiceless_terror

So they curl up in his bed, an arm slung across Jon’s waist, his back to Tim’s chest. There are no spiders here, not in this bed that smells of dryer sheets and detergent and Tim. He’s almost asleep when the arm around his waist tightens suddenly.

“My brother always said the pressure helped. When he had bad dreams.”

Jon has nightmares and Tim attempts to chase them away. In the process, they learn a few things about each other.

the comfort. the understanding. it’s just so nice.

enemy of my enemy by beeclaws

Jon comes back from his time with the Circus a little worse for wear. Tim has some feelings about that.

it hurts so bad. but. fuck. the tim & jon somewhat fixing their relationship fic that i just really needed.

Tear Out All Your Tenderness by With_the_Wolves

"He’s been doing such a good job of ignoring it, up until now, pretending he didn’t know how he survived the Unknowing. Pretending he didn’t hear the constant rhythm of hunt hunt kill kill rushing through his veins in time with his blood. He didn’t used to be able to smell fear.

In the aftermath of the Coffin, Tim decides that he's going to be there for Jon. But Jon's fear is intoxicating.

THIS FIC! THIS FIC! JESUS CHRIST IT’S SO FUCKING PAINFUL. JUST. HOLY SHIT.

jonmartim fics

beautiful and annihilating by advantagetexas

But reality was a lot harsher than dreams. He admitted that to himself now, as he gently moved a piece of hair from Jon’s unblinking eye. Daisy Tonner was dead. Sasha James was dead. Daniel Stoker was still dead, or disappeared, or whatever woe begotten fate had befallen him at the hands of that wretched circus.

And here was Tim. Alive. And forced to deal with the fallout.

this fic <3 i love it very much. it’s updates are the highlight of my day. really fucks with my emotions. it’s just great.

#the magnus archives #tma #fic recs #tma fic #tma fics #magnuspod #if you write tma fics at all you are amazing and i love you #minus the like. people that erase jon’s asexuality obviously. but i would die for the rest of you #writing this made me realize how little i read fics that aren’t like. heavily involving jon. so if u have any other recs feel free to add

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babymetaldoll · 4 years ago

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Getting down the germs (Spencer Reid/Reader)

Prompt: What if germs haven’t been discovered?

Summary: Spencer and Reader analyze a world where germs don’t exist, and how Reid’s life would be like...

Category: Fluff

Content Warning: none

Pairing: Spencer/Reader

Word count: 1.6K

Masterlist

- “I wonder how your life would be if germs had never been discovered”- (Y/N) thought out loud and gazed at Spencer, smiling playfully. They were waiting for their lunch in a small cafeteria they liked to go to whenever they had a slow paperwork day at the BAU. It felt almost unreal to be sharing a meal not thinking there was an unsub to catch in the next hour.

He hesitated for a second before answering. He was caught off guard by her smile, and for a second he forgot he could speak, words piling up in his tongue, not making his way from his lips. She made his brain turn into mush, that was a fact.

- “I don't understand how germs could never be discovered”- Spencer murmured a few seconds later.

Of all the answers he had in mind, which mostly referred to an endless amount of data and facts about germs, those words were the best he managed to say. (Y/N)'s smile had completely wiped off every functional brain cell he had.

- “Well, imagine all the things people haven't discovered yet”- she simply replied, and took a sip of her lemonade. Just like that, Spencer was left speechless.

All the things people haven't discovered yet. That was interesting, but though it was a thought Spencer could lose himself in for days and maybe weeks, at that minute all he could concentrate on was all the things he hadn't discovered yet, such as the taste of (Y/N)'s lips. Or how her warm skin could feel against his hand when he finally first touched her. He hadn't discovered how it would be to hold her hand. Just as simple as that. He lived in a world where germs existed, but all his dreams were a "what if".

- “That's overwhelming”- Spencer whispered, answering to (Y/N)'s earlier comment, and then looked down.

- “Would you shake people's hand if germs hadn't been discovered?”- his best friend asked, and her eyes didn't leave his. She felt how her whole body shook, staring at Spencer, but she couldn't stop doing it anyway. She didn't want to either, but it felt physically impossible to take her eyes from his. He was a magnet she couldn't move apart from.

It had been that way since day one, when the two of them started at the BAU, five years ago. They were both extremely young to be part of the elite of the FBI, but their abilities had put them where they belong. A few weeks into the job and Reid had finally managed to talk to her without stuttering. He wasn't good with people, especially with women. Least with a woman he found attractive. (Y/N) had no idea how to approach someone like Spencer. He had an IQ of 187, the guy could read 20.000 words per minute. She was dumb compared to him in any possible way. There was no way he could even notice her, so she did what anyone would do: she fell into the friendzone and stayed there for the next five years.

She was the girl he took to the museums every weekend, and he was the friend she crawled to random geek conventions. She loved to be there for him, even when it meant she was his best friend. (Y/N) knew Spencer had a thing for JJ when they first joined the BAU, they even were out on a date, but nothing came from it. It didn't matter to her anyway, she could see how Spencer looked at JJ, he never had those longing eyes when he talked to her. It was clear, she was just his best friend and JJ the object of his desires.

- “I don't know... I guess...”- Reid answered and (Y/N) nodded. Their food arrived and the two of them focused on their dishes for a few seconds. Silence fell between them, but it wasn’t awkward. It never was. They were perfectly comfortable in each other's company, being quiet wasn't something to worry about. They could perfectly spend a whole weekend in silence, reading, or watching movies.

Those were Spencer's favorite weekends, 'cos he didn't have to make his best effort to answer in a normal voice and like a normal human being each time (Y/N) talked to him.

Though he had managed to control himself and act normal when they were alone, inside Reid’s head there was in a deep and constant struggle. He knew he loved her. More than that: he was in love with her. And that was enough reason for him to act silly from time to time. Ok, all the time. He could ramble for hours when he talked to her, and it was worst 'cos she never cut him off, which meant he literally could go on, and on, and never shut up.

He was scared one day he could ramble for so long, he could end up telling her his true feelings. But he knew he was never going to have the guts to do it.

- “Why do germs freak you out so much?”- (Y/N) stopped eating. She was halfway into her salad, but she wasn't really enjoying it. The dressing wasn't real good. Besides, Spencer had gotten her a red velvet cupcake for breakfast, which had spoiled her appetite for the rest of the day.

- “We're estimated to have around 1,500 bacteria living on each square centimeter of skin on our hands, and although viruses don't set up shop on the skin the way bacteria do, the viruses that cause diarrhea and respiratory infections can hang around on the hands long enough to spread from person to person”

And Spencer hid behind what makes him feel secure the most: facts

- “It states that microorganisms known as pathogens or "germs" can lead to disease, they invade humans...”

- “But honey”- it gave him goosebumps each time (Y/N) called him that- “If you don't get sick from time to time, your immune system is gonna be as weak as the taste of this dressing.”

"Honey". It was just too sweet, too cute, too... endearing for him to handle. No one had ever called him a pet name before. Not her mother, not... anyone. Sure, JJ called him "Spence" from time to time, and some of her friends caught it as a BAU nickname, but it was nothing like being called "honey" by (Y/N). No, that was different. And when she used the whole "Honey bunny" surname to refer to him, he swore anyone could see him melt.

- “What if germs were the coolest thing on earth? and everybody was trying to get them?”- Spencer narrowed his eyes and made his best not to laugh. She was rambling on their way back to work, and for once he was glad to be the one listening to someone else rattle on.

- “What is it with you and germs today?”- he simply asked and chuckled lightly. He was happy that day. And he wanted to enjoy it before a case darkened his mind.

- “I don't know”- (Y/N) shrugged and smiled at him- “I guess I'm just... curious what is it with you and germs”

- “I just hate them”- Spencer answered looking at her, licking her ice cream- “You didn't finish your greens at lunch, you didn't earn that dessert”- he teased and she grinned

- “Want some?”- her words seemed to play with his mind, and make his cheek blush right away. He did, he wanted some. He wanted some so badly it ached him. So he didn't answer.

- “You didn't seem to be scared of Lila Archer's germs... we all saw you sharing your straw with her, among other things...”

- “(Y/N), that's...”- but he is flustered and his friend won't stop teasing him for it.

- “I don't have the cooties, but I know that won't make the difference 'cos she was half-naked and you were...”

And he snapped. He grabbed the ice cream cone from her hand and licked it all. His tongue traveled through every inch of sweet, tasting it and looking into (Y/N)'s eyes as he did. He had no idea what he was doing to her. She was having trouble keeping her thoughts in order, she had to remember they were on the street and that he was just her best friend in the world to stop herself from throwing herself to him.

Spencer had enough of the Lila teasing. It wasn't just this time, it has been years of listening to the same thing, over and over again. For a moment or two, he was almost sure (Y/N) was jealous, but after a few seconds, he remembered she was just his best friend having fun with him. That was it. So he grabbed the ice cream cone and lick it. It was his way to tell her he didn't care about her germs. In fact, he wanted to have her germs on him if it mean he could kiss her.

- “There! see? now we have the same cooties! end of the story”

(Y/N) held her ice cream cone again and licked it. Her best friend kept looking at her with the corner of his eyes.

- “So... germs exist, but you don't care about mine?”- she whispered after a few minutes. Her voice was almost untraceable, but Spencer knew that tone.

- “Germs exist and I hate them”- he explained and kept looking ahead- “But yours are ok...”

- “Oh...”- (Y/N) nodded and bit her lips, trying her best not to smile.

- “I mean... we've probably already shared them all, we've been friends for years, we can't keep track of everything we've done”

He can, he does. He knows. (Y/N) nodded her head again and continued eating her ice cream in silence until they reach the BAU again.

- “So my germs are ok then...”- she whispered and elbowed him as they waited for the elevator. Spencer chuckled looking down.

- “Yeah, your germs are alright.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfictions #spencer reid fanfics #criminal minds #one shots #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler fanfictions #spencer reid fluff #matthew gray gubler fluff #spencer reid imagines #spencer x reader #doctor reid #babymetaldoll writes

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starlightxsvt · 4 years ago

Text

Pink Dress || Joshua Hong au

Pairing: bad boy!Joshua x female reader

Genre: Fluff, slice of life, lil angst, suggestive, spice

Warnings: cursing, bad boy joshua coming for y'all

"What were you thinking when you wore this dress?" Joshua's dark eyes pierce into yours and you feel a little weak in the knees. As you fiddle with the hem of your dress, you squeak out a reply, "The weather was hot, you know."

It really was hot. The day started with you deciding to stay in the shelter of your home to avoid the blazing sun outside and finish your papers for the final. However, your plans changed with a call from Joshua.

He wanted to hang out with you in the library as he had a couple of books to pick up from there. You, being completely wrapped around Joshua's finger said yes without a second delay and promised the boy you'd meet him by 1 o'clock.

You rushed to pick an outfit, wanting to look pretty in front of Joshua. The male was the 'bad boy' of your campus; or so the rumors floating around suggested. It was your first year and like any other person with eyesight, you developed a crush on him. Which you kept to yourself until Joshua took a weird interest in you. He'd visit you during lunch, help you with your biology project, drop you home in his bike and even saved you from bullies a couple times.

It all made your heart swoon and turn your brain into mush. Soon enough, he's dragging you into corners and stealing kisses and touches with dirty, lustful words that fogs up your brain. That's when you fully realized, you were done for.

You have offered him your heart on a plate and now it was his to break. You try to subside the growing feelings for him in your heart but they only threaten to spill out. Hence, you thought it was necessary to look pretty in front of him.

You look lovely in pink, he'd said once when you wore pink to class. Remembering that and the awful weather outside, you go with a pink sundress with spaghetti straps and a low back,the hem reaching your mid thigh. It was a recent purchase and you were more than happy to see it's perfect fit.

You realized as you were halfway towards the library that the universe was not on your side. Out if nowhere, the sky is casted with thick clouds like they show in the horror movies and it starts raining cats and dogs. The campus library was about 10 minutes walk from your house but you make it in about 5, cursing yourself for not checking the weather forecast.

You see Joshua standing in front of the library building and rush over to him, drenched.

He quickly pulls you inside and his eyes darken as he scans you. That's how you end up with a fuming Joshua who looked very displeased with your choice of outfit.

"I can fucking see your bra, Y/n."

Your eyes widen as you quickly cover your chest with your backpack. Joshua sighs, frustrated. "Do you really think this outfit is appropriate for the library? Or were you trying to get me worked up? If so, then great, it worked."

"What? No!" You protest, a blush covering your cheeks.

Joshua takes off his leather jacket and puts it on you, ushering you into the library. After you take a seat, he hands you his handkerchief, motioning you to wipe your hair. As you do so, he disappears into the quietness of the library and returns a while later with a couple books in his hands.

"Are you here for these?" You ask.He nods, taking a seat beside you. You rub you hands together, feeling chilly.

"Cold?" He asks softly.

"A little."

"I'll drop you home once it stops raining. I shouldn't have called you out."

"No!" You reply, scared he regrets calling you. "I wanted to hang out with you too. I should've checked the weather."

"Forget it." He whispers, his eyes raking over you once again, making you squirm. "You look... sexy."

A blush blooms on your cheek, "Thank you. I-I wore it for y-you."

His pupils dilate slightly as a smirk kisses his lips, "Oh sweetheart, what am I gonna do with you?"

Make me your girlfriend, maybe.

He tucks a strand of loose hair behind your ear before leaning in to press his lips against yours. You kiss him with the same eagerness until you remember you are in public. You slightly push him away, not meeting his eyes as you chew your bottom lip.

His hand rests on your thigh as his fingers draw soft patters on your skin. He takes in your features, a feeling of adoration and desire settling in his heart.

"If I asked you to come to my house now, would you agree?"

You swallow, meeting his eyes. He never asked you to his home before. "Y-yes."

"Shit, when will this fucking rain stop." He rakes his hand through his soft locks impatiently.

You bite your lip, "You know, I'm already soaked. Why don't w-we, uhm, leave already?"

Joshua meets your eyes, a bit surprised. You yourself can't believe the words came out of you as you look down into you lap, embarrassed by your eagerness.

"Are you sure?" He says already standing up. His face engulfed in a crooked smile and his eyes intense and darker than the clouds outside, his mind wandering to the filthy things he wants to do with you.

"Y-yes," You reached for his outstretched hand. You knew you were only making way for your heart to get broken but the boy in front of you is worth the heartbreak.

A/N: I can't believe I've wrote this in one sitting. Anyway, I've always had a thing for bad boy Joshua in a bike and so I had to write this. As always, feedbacks are greatly appreciated! 💖

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jamestrmtx · 4 years ago

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Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Thirteen | Waterfall (Part 2 of 4)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

You keep repeating to yourself this is nothing but a simple and friendly outing, though it's easy to forget with how insistent Frisk and Undyne have been in terms of suggesting the opposite.

The feeling's made worse when you get down from the ride and see how grand and overwhelming the place you've been invited to is. In comparison to the warm and calm ambiance of a regular bakery or a small coffee shop, you're met with people clad in semiformal outfits and a refined atmosphere -- similar to that of a five-star restaurant. What reminds you this is just a place for eating desserts is being greeted at the front by a humbler-dressed, white-furred rabbit monster labeling himself as the second owner of the shop, the name 'Roger' spelled out on his name tag. He greets you and Sans in, and offers you a pamphlet.

"I remember you," he says, facing Sans with a smile. "You're from Snowdin, aren't you? It's nice to see you've found a date up here!" The excitement in his tone warns he's about to ramble. "It's so refreshing to see other people like us! Honestly, we… We made this shop hoping more would show up, but you two are the second couple I've had the knowledge of serving here so far!"

"Like us?" you ask, facing the monster. "Is your partner human?"

"Yes!" he takes your hand while his nose twitches with pent-up energy. "People always come here talking a little, well... mean about it, so I always have to stay on-watch. The first couple that came here got scared off by one of those customers, but now my girlfriend makes sure to keep an eye out!" He lets go, apologizing after. "I get too excited every time I see pairs like you walk in together, but they always tell me they're just friends! And while I get that, really it's... It's such a joy to have you guys here!"

"We're actually not-"

"I get what you mean." In the spur of the moment, you interrupt Sans when he tries to say the truth. Roger's excitement is too bright to rain on, resulting in you wanting to play along. With how he is, you're sure the skeleton's not going to let you live it down, but one look at the hope in the other monster's eyes is enough to make your heart turn to mush. "This is actually our first date, but we're getting there."

Roger smiles, though it soon fades as he looks at the approaching line of customers from afar. Then, he looks to the shop to see the ones who entered in before you have already sat down. "Sorry for holding you back so much," he adds, huffing as an apologetic look makes its way through. "I try really hard not to get too excited about this kind of stuff, but again... It's so nice to have you guys here!" He points over to the counter, smile reappearing. "Go ahead and stop by the counter, alright? You can order to-go, or sit down, if you want to stay!"

"Thank you," you reply, returning his smile.

You make way into the shop with Sans by your side, avoiding eye contact all the way to the counter. You already know he has a comment on the ready, so it's not much of a surprise when you hear him speak up right before making it there. "So," he says, chuckling. "First date, huh?" He walks a little closer to your side, trying to get you to look at him, but failing. "...Was that meant as a lie, or are you hintin' at somethin' else there, pal?"

"I'm not sure what to think of this myself, but…" You stop halfway, not wanting to admit your own wants just yet. "In the end, I only did it 'cause I couldn't bring myself to get his hopes down." A pink-furred bunnywoman takes your order. The reply you'd given Sans by text is then worded out by him, along with his own order and Frisk's favourite dessert to-go. While you have your wallet close by, you're not told to pay yet, and are instead led to an empty table, where you're both left to wait. You thank the monster as she leaves and go back to your conversation with Sans as soon as she's gone from your sight. "But even if this was a date, I still don't think I'd be able to accept having another one after today's."

At that, his curiosity rises, shown by the subtle flicker in his irises. "What do you mean?"

You avoid his gaze by toying with the cutlery left on the table. "I need to focus more on raising Frisk before going anywhere with my love life."

"Why?" There's honest confusion in his question despite how blunt and intrusive it is without any proper context, something he catches onto by using another one to elaborate his meaning better. "So you haven't dated anyone ever since that day?"

You nod while thanking a waiter, this one a brown bear dressed in more formal wear; he sets two drinks down -- one for you and one for your company. "I haven't, and to be honest I'd…" Your chest feels tight as so does your throat, both of these almost trying to distract you away from what you're about to say. "I'd like to keep it that way for as long as it's needed." You try to stop yourself from saying anything else, though the coziness of the shop and Sans's presence give you an entry for letting out what's been kept hidden for as long as that day came around. "I need to be there for Frisk, and I need to be more careful of who I date from now on." You're not sure what else's making you open up so much, but you don't exactly stop yourself from continuing with your thoughts. "You see, I… I really don't want Frisk to grow up in an environment full of constant fights and disagreements."

As soon as you catch yourself, your brain makes a stop, yet your mouth continues to pour out what's making your heart strain as much as it is currently. "There's already enough of that in the world waiting out there for Frisk when they grow up, so the least I can do is make it a little easier for them right now." Your mind hates you at this point, though you can feel the rest of your body grow lighter, tension releasing itself from it. "That's why… why I didn't really try to stop Jerry when he started to drift away; when visits became just once a month, rather than twice a week. We didn't really get along well after we (had/adopted) Frisk, so that's why… That's why I figured it was best to let him go."

When you hear your voice turn weak, you stop, mind sending endless comments of disapproval into your thoughts. You flinch when you have a napkin offered out to you, but you take it when you see Sans nod, still waiting for you. He then pulls back quickly, still avoiding your touch. "So, what I'm gettin' at here's that you feel just as responsible as Frisk did over what happened that day," he says, voice low and tone solemn. "Or at least, that's what it looks like."

Sans stops and looks behind you. The same waiter from before appears next to you and places your dessert first and later his; once more, you thank him and wait until he leaves the table. When he's gone, your companion speaks up again, setting the plate aside to focus on you more. "Don't wanna assume things right off the bat, but…" He takes a pause, picks up a fork, and pierces it through the pastry. Then, he faces you, continuing with, "You kinda feel like you've gotta make up for that? Limiting yourself that much ain't really the best option there is, though."

You hum, face away, and pick up a portion off your dessert to distract yourself from him. "I just don't trust myself enough to make the right decision again." You take the first bite; the sweet's flavour helps you with the situation.

The harmony of cutlery clicking and outside chatter blend into the background as your conversation with him carries on. While you listen, you take another bite off your dessert to make matters less tense. "Y'know, if this helps, most of us think you did a good job raising the kid." He stops again and brings the cup closer to him. "If you look at it this way, you helped with lettin' 'em make their own choices and decide how to approach monsters back then. In a sense, we're all connected one way or the other -- kinda like how you start off as their teacher, and then take them to an actual school where they'll continue to grow as a person." He sways the drink around and looks down at it for a moment. "And even if it's possible for a kid their age to start shapin' their own mindset and decide what's good, what's alright, and what's not, most of it's still based off what they've been taught so far. They're not fully in control of who they are yet, and that's why it's often a huge responsibility to take -- parenting, teaching, and all that."

He stops again to take a swing from his drink. The view of his skull contorting to allow him a sip was one surprising to watch the first time you saw him and Papyrus eating some of Toriel's vegetable stew the day of the blackout, and even more intriguing the time you invited him over for a meal after finishing with your errands at the school supply. Now that you're seeing it for a third time though, you focus far too much on it, yet you try to brush it off and pay more attention to him. There's plenty of questions present in regard to how monsters worked the way they did -- each different in their own way, given how many types there are -- but you're not quite sure if it would be proper to bring them out so suddenly right now.

"Basically," he continues, setting the drink down. "When you're at that young of an age, you don't have a full understanding of who you are, and that's why it's so important for lil' kids to have good, or at least decent examples for them to follow." He faces you. How direct his gaze feels makes you look away, feeling embarrassment burn your face. "And so pretty much based on how Frisk acted during their time at the Underground, I can tell they've been raised well." His gaze drifts off behind you again, though there's a different look to it this time. In contrast to the one he'd given earlier to acknowledge the waiter's arrival, there's caution present in his irises. "What I'm sayin' here is: you're a good parent, (Y/N). And if you feel like you have to restrain yourself from livin' life, you really shouldn't. You're-"

"Hey, Kevin," a man says, voice coming from behind you. "What did the skeleton say to the hog?"

The strangeness behind his gaze makes more sense now; the voice that sounds from behind you's far too annoying for it not to belong to trouble.

You hear laughter and another voice reply with, "I don't know, Brayan. What?"

Brayan fakes a swoon and attempts to mimic what you can only assume is Sans's voice, saying, "Oh, you're the exact opposite of me -- all fat and no bones. What a catch!"

More laughter.

"Wait, wait," Kevin says, voice now heard from closer by. "I've- I've gotta good follow-up to that one." Even more obnoxious laughter's heard from him, and a not-so adorable snort comes from Brayan. "I might be fat, but you're the real pig here -- liking me only because of those weird tastes of yours!"

"What's bothering you, mi chicharrón*? You're my type. I'm only saying the truth!

"And I'm done with you, you bonehead!"

One of the two men emerge next to Sans and attempts to push him off his chair to follow-up to their impromptu play, with enough flamboyance and sass to make Shakespeare proud.

You step in, grabbing by the arm who you assume's Kevin and keeping him from finishing his joke. He freezes, though he soon recovers, a grin replacing his surprise. "Hey look, Brayan," he calls out. "Piggy's all angry now!"

Done too quick for you to react, you feel something cold pour over your chest and look to your left to see Brayan with a grin on his face and with an empty glass left on his hand. "Cool off," he says, laughing.

Before you can process it, something trips his feet and sends his donkey to the ground.

Both your drink and the skeleton's end up thrown on him as a familiar blue aura surrounds both of the glasses.

"Wh- What the hell, man?" he shouts, flustered. "Who did that?!"

The human owner of the establishment appears right behind him and brings him into an arm lock. She's just as formally dressed as the bear waiter; a long red dress matches with her lipstick and does the opposite with her light skin and bright ginger hair. The name ‘Jessica’ is spelled neatly on her name tag. "Sounds to me like you're the one who needs to cool off first," she says, pulling him to his feet. Her teeth are clenched and a frown shapes her mouth. "Tell your friend he needs to follow me if he doesn't want the same treatment." She drags both men along with her, leaving you alone with Sans -- plus an audience too big for your liking.

The brown bear makes his appearance again. A mess of apologies exit his mouth as he rushes over with two new drinks and a towel hung over his shoulder. Sans helps him by taking the latter and approaching your side.

"You okay?" he asks. Carefully, he sets the towel over you, hands moving stiff and awkward when he tries to wrap it around your torso. You bite back a smile at that, his current reticence helping you forget about Brayan and Kevin's actions. Even with how daring he was while flirting, he was inevitably trying his best not to cross unwanted lines with you. "Was it hot?"

Stop.

That word repeats itself over and over in your mind as you use the towel to pull him closer to you, his hands still holding onto it. You take them, let him hold onto your waist, and allow your smile to shine through, heart pounding all the while. "No," you reply, grinning. "But you worrying about me kinda is." You kiss his cheekbone, murmuring a 'thank you, Sans' close to his ear cavity.

The crowd goes wild, whistles and woots being let out as you keep your lips there for a moment, right until you feel his skull turn hot to the touch. When you pull back, his irises are wide, jumpy, and bright, these trying their best to look away from you. He lets go of the towel, steps back, and sits down on his chair while the crowd settles out.

"Uh..." he mutters, short of breath. "No problem, (Y/N)."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

*mi (my) chicharrón = Fried pork belly or rinds; a pork dish/snack originating from Hispanic countries.

In this case, it's used as a nickname, like honey, sugar, dear, and all that!

• • •

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@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

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@mintyflakes025

@pandaquick

@timelock97

@candle-creeps

#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

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