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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years ago

Text

Do Us Part

Warnings: nonconsent and rape; oral, fingering, marital discord, cheating, spousal arguments and mental/emotional abuse, age gap (Peter is 24/25 and reader is 35/36)

This is dark!Peter Parker x 30s/’older’ reader and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You find it hard to accept that not all good things last as you face the changes in your marriage, yourself, and your marriage.

Note: I wanted to write Peter again but also I’ve seen this nonsense about how 30+ writers are too old for fanfic which is dumb af. And I wanted to turn the age gap trope a little so that it wasn’t the reader being the younger one in the relationship. I label it older reader but I don’t think being in your 30s is old tbh (my bf is 36 so pfft). It was all just a conglomeration of circumstances that inspired a deceivingly sweet dark Peter and I hope you like it. Also it’s 7.4k so a bit of a longer read.

Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You walked slowly along the transparent shelves set into the pristine white walls of the cosmetics section. The department store was a haze of distant voices and the chirp of scanners as customers milled the aisles and waited their turn to check out. You whiled away your time looking at things you’d never buy as you waited for your husband to return from the men’s department.

You thought of the sparse make-up bag under your sink and the liners and shades you hadn’t used in years. They were likely expired and better tossed in the bin. You hovered along the crystal bottle of designer scents and stopped to test a particular blush-tinted fragrance.

You set the bottle back and peered over at the dark cubbies that housed the men’s scent. Even from there, you could catch a whiff of the heady scents as a younger man with reddish brown hair examined an angular vial of Dior Men. You suddenly felt out of place; a mid-thirties woman in her out-of-season clothes fantasizing about overpriced perfume.

Your husband's voice further cemented your reality as you fingered the golden cap of the Coach eau du parfum. Wesley rolled his eyes and flipped up the little plastic panel that hid the bold prices and huffed.

“I hope you don’t think I’m gonna pay for that shit,” he sneered, “what have you been doing? I was waiting for you.”

He waved a plastic bag as his lip curled and you pressed your mouth shut tightly and swallowed. The day began with another argument as he discovered the seared hole in his shirt and instead of blaming the crappy old dryer, he blamed you. Most of your clothes had been chewed up by the thing but you never complained.

“No, I was just… looking,” you teetered in your flats and glanced around. The young man at the corner display quickly turned to hide his nosy observation, “did you find some new shirts?”

“No thanks to you,” he sniffed.

“Oh,” you played with the hem of your tee and tucked your hands into your pockets nervously. You’d left him to look alone as you only seemed to irritate him and rarely took your advice on matters of clothing, “well, I thought I’d give you some space--”

“Stop acting so pathetic. Start taking responsibility for yourself. For god’s sake, you're almost thirty-six and you don’t know how to hang a shirt to dry?” He spun on his heel and snapped over his shoulder, “let’s go.”

You flinched but followed behind him as he strode away and you stumbled out behind him through the automatic doors. He tossed the bag into the back seat and slammed the door before flopping angrily into the driver’s side. You mirrored him daintily and squeezed your legs together as you tried to make yourself as small as you could.

“I told you about the dryer,” you said.

“And?” he started the engine and slapped his hand around the wheel, “call a fucking electrician or some shit.”

“Alright,” you shrugged as he stopped at the exit of the parking lot and checked his phone quickly.

“Benny wants to do a round of golf,” he peeled out and you grasped the door as your heart raced. You hated how reckless he was when he was angry. You hated how easily he got angry these days.

“Okay,” you picked at the fraying stitching of your purse.

“Don’t start moping,” he sneered, “I fucking work all week and I can’t go out and have a few rounds?”

“I never-- I didn’t say anything,” you murmured.

“You don’t need to,” he turned the wheel sharply as he cut off another car, “you sit at home all day and do what?”

“I work too,” you said.

“Uh huh, sure, if that’s what you call it.”

You ran your fingertip over the bleach stain on the knee of your jeans and said nothing. When he was in a mood, he would latch on anything until he outright exploded. You tried to think of when he changed, when he had stopped being the chill guy you met back in college. It felt like a slow trickle, small things you ignored until it was a mountain you could not see past.

You felt like crying but you’d stopped that a while ago. You existed in a purgatory of acceptance and helplessness. You wanted him to love you again, wanted to believe you could fix things. So you would keep trying. You would do better.

💍

You picked out a large flank of steak and winced at the price. You had a special dinner in mind. It was Friday and the work week was done. You wanted a weekend without a fight and Wesley was always one for a nice big cut of beef. You hadn’t made him one in a while, your dinners were the usual repetitive drumsticks and rice or your homemade mac and cheese.

You continued onto the fish section and grabbed some salmon for yourself. You’d gained some weight and decided to cut out dairy and red meat if you could help it. The pile of produce in your cart reminded you of the extra jiggle around your stomach and thighs. You also grabbed one of those women’s magazines that advertised a regimen to help slim your figure. You only hoped you could stick to it this time.

With your weekly haul in tow, you wheeled up to the check-out and waited behind a young man who looked oddly familiar to you. Maybe that was the passing years. You always felt a vague glimmer of deja vu, more often a sense of forlorn nostalgia of what you would never have again.

As you stared thoughtlessly, he looked over and smiled. He bent in front of your cart and picked up a thin packet of seasoning.

“You dropped this,” he said as he held it out and you thanked him before quickly snatching it and looking away.

He paid for his large bags of chips and over salted pre-packaged meals and packed up at the end as you loaded up your own goods, the cashier sending them down the parallel belt. You swiped your card and tried to calculate the chunk of money from your last check. You thanked the clerk and sidled past the young man as he finished up.

You rounded the counter as he lifted his three bags. You looked up without thinking, the sleeve of his shirt tight around his bicep. You caught yourself staring and looked back down as you packed in the cans.

It reminded you of Wesley; he’d also started being more mindful, he hit the gym after work and you noticed the little pudge that started just after he turned thirty was slimming out. It was that exact reason that made you notice the extra pounds on your own frame, not that you didn’t realise before.

The man left and you unfolded the little buggy you slid under the cart. You loaded your bags into it and dragged the cart behind you as you made an awkward exit with both wheeled trolleys. The compact fabric buggy was easy enough to fit on the bus if you stood.

You pushed the cart into the row of empty ones and continued across the parking lot. You rolled up to the bus shelter and checked the bus times on your phone. You dug out your strip of tickets and ripped one away. You leaned on the thin handle of your trolley and looked over your shoulder as you heard someone approach.

The man who checked out ahead of you put his bags on the metal bench inside the shelter as he sipped on a bright drink from the place just beside the grocery shop. He sent you a smile over his straw and you spun back to crane your head and search for the bus.

When the metal beast barreled up and cranked to a stop at the curb, the man waited behind you and as your wheels caught on the edge of the ramp, he reached around you and helped push it over the lip. You thanked him shyly and continued up. Usually you tried to keep the shop light on weekdays but you hadn’t really been paying attention.

You pushed your cart against the small barrier just behind the accessible seating and stood beside it, conscious not to take up too much space. The man stood just behind you two bags on one shoulder and the other dangling from the opposite elbow as he sucked on his straw. You grabbed the upright bar as the bus took off and watched the electronic banner for your stop.

A sharp stop had you veering back and you were caught by the young man as he chucked, “oop, you okay?”

“Yes, thank you,” you muttered and gave a sheepish smile over your shoulder.

“There’s a seat,” he gestured just behind you, “I’ll watch your stuff.”

“Um, no it’s… fine,” you gripped the bar tighter as the bus shuttled forward, “my stop is soon.”

You looked ahead of you and three stops passed before yours. You exited through the front with your buggy and headed down the sidewalk as the bus pulled away. You were exhausted just from your little sojourn and it wasn’t even two o’clock. God, you felt old.

💍

You had a salad chopped and tossed and the steak and fish laid out and seasoned. As you listened to your old Spotify list, the music dipped and the notification blipped over the screen. You washed your hands and grabbed the phone. You frowned as you read the lone message from Wesley, the only one you got from him all day.

‘Just finished at the gym, getting drinks with Andrew,’ you read and re-read the message as your heart fell.

You typed out a whole angry response and backspaced it all. You replaced it with ‘ok, have fun’ and blacked the screen. You shoved the meat back in the fridge and stretched saran wrap over the bowl of salad. You placed it on a lower shelf and closed the door, quickly swiping a can of the craft beer Wesley kept around.

You shut the light off in the kitchen and ignored the pang in your stomach as you cracked the can. You climbed the stairs as you sipped the hoppy foam. You put it on the night table and changed into the old butterfly pajamas you wore most nights and turned on the tv mounted against the wall.

You turned on Netflix but hardly paid attention to the carelessly chosen movie. You sat against the headboard and down the bitter beer until the can was hollow and your eyelids were heavy. You slumped down so that your shoulders were at your ears and dozed off in the stiff position as the room moved with the colours of the television.

The anger and alcohol shaded your shallow sleep and you hardly heard Wesley when he came in, only waking when your bladder was ready to burst and his snores rumbled in your head. You went to the bathroom and returned, wide awake, and stared at the shape of him in the dark.

You remembered when he used to kiss you when he came home, even when you were asleep, he’d wake you with the little pecks. You remembered when he was happy to come home. You remembered when you were happy.

You swallowed the acrid aftertaste of beer and left him to snore. You went downstairs and curled up on the couch but didn’t sleep. You just stared at the shadows of the furniture until the sun rose.

💍

The next day, Wesley didn’t wake until after noon and when he did, he didn’t say a word to you. He took his coffee and sat at the patio table in the back as you stewed and cleaned the kitchen. You had nothing to say to him even if you felt stupid for being mad.

“Gotta head down to the dealership,” he said as he interrupted your scouring of the stove.

“The dealership?” you said after a moment, deciding whether or not to break your vow of silence.

“I told you on Wednesday, I’m picking up the car--”

“We talked about this. We should wait a little longer--”

“It’s my money and I got a great price,” he sighed, “just because you have to pinch your pennies--”

“We’re married,” you squeezed the foam sponge, “it’s our money. Don’t act like I don’t pay for anything around here.”

“Oh thanks, honey, so wonderful you paid for a five dollar steak,” he scoffed, “I’ll be impressed when you can make a mortgage payment on your own.”

“How dare you!” you turned your back to him and kept scrubbing, “fine, but not a penny of my money is going to that thing.”

“That’s fine, I’m selling the old one, that should cover most of it--”

“What?” you slammed your hand between the burner, “you said we would hold onto it so I had something to--”

“Then you can buy it from me,” he said venomously.

“I’m your wife,” you spun to scowl at him again, “I-- what is wrong with you?”

He tilted his head and squinted as he poked his tongue out along his lip. “Nothing wrong with me,” he shrugged, “what’s wrong with you?”

“Don’t--” you warned as you pointed a finger at him through the bright yellow gloves, “don’t do that… I’ve been trying and you just keep pushing me away.”

“Me pushing you away?” he rolled his eyes, “you were passed out last night when I got home. Maybe if you didn’t fall asleep before nine I could actually fuck you… or at least get it up if you worked on losing some of that cellulite on your ass.”

Your lip quivered and you sucked in a breath. You shook your head and turned around again. You ignored him as your hand shook and you continued your work, scratching at the dried-on food around the burner. His empty mug clinked onto the counter and you listened to his exit.

Fuck him and his new car. You were done trying with him.

💍

Wesley’s new car was shrouded in the shade of the garage as the old black Hyundai sat out on the driveway with a red and white “For Sale” sign on the windshield. Right after he got back from his extravagant purchase, he made the listing online and several perusers stopped by Saturday night but Sunday morning saw the car still there.

You sat by the border of stones around the garden as he drank beer in the garage and approached any interested buyers who appeared; although so far he’d only had two before noon.

You tucked your clippers into your apron pocket and dusted off your gloves as you stood. You were a little dizzy from sitting out in the sun and a glass of water was the perfect excuse to drown out the annoying sound of your husband’s voice.

You ignored Wesley as you trod through the garage and kicked your sneakers off on the mat right before the three steps up to the house. You went to the kitchen and put your gloves on the counter as you filled a glass from the dispenser on the front of the fridge. You’d given up everything but water and the slices of lemon were the only flavour you had.

You took the glass and your gloves and headed back. Wesley waited just at the bottom of the stairs as he glared up at you with arms crossed. You sighed and descended but he didn’t let you pass.

“What is your problem?”

“Are you really asking me that?” you hissed.

“You giving me the silent treatment isn’t gonna fix this,” he snarled.

“You know what you said so… I shouldn’t have to tell you to apologize,” you retorted and he stayed put.

“Is this about the car?”

“The car is just another thing,” you cross an arm around your stomach, “you think I couldn’t use it to get around, to get the groceries maybe? Or, I don’t know, maybe since you have such a problem with my home office, I could go out and get a ‘big girl’ job as you put it so many times--”

“Your mother has a car she never drives. You can just take her with you, two birds, one stone. I need to sell this to pay for the new one--”

“The one I begged you not to buy,” you huffed, “you could’ve waited a few more years until we were a little more comfortable--”

“Oh, wait? Until we have a kid and all my money goes to it,” he snapped, “yeah, I’m sure we’d have the money then--”

“You’d have to fuck to do that,” you stepped down the last step and pushed past him.

As you came into the sunlight and shielded your eyes, a figure stood by the garden, knelt just by your tulips as he felt the soft petals. You narrowed your eyes. You recognized him for sure. It was the stranger from the bus.

“Um, hi?” you croaked as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Hey, it’s… you again,” he chuckled softly as he stood, “I saw an ad for a car and… well, I’m getting tired of the bus.”

“Oh, uh, my husband,” you pointed over your shoulder, “you’ll have to talk to him.”

“Okay,” he smiled, “Peter,” he held out his hand and you stared at it. You introduced yourself and shook his firm grip.

“Like I said, it’s my husband selling the car,” you brushed by him and got to your knees by the flowerbed. “Unless you’re looking to buy some wilting pansies.”

“Hmm, I like the tulips better,” he said as he slowly inched away, “thanks.”

You sat back on your heels and he strode over to the open garage. You heard Wesley greet him and didn’t bother paying attention to the same pitch you’d heard all morning. You pulled on your gloves and wiggled your nose as it tingled. You really just wanted to keel over and bawl.

“Sold,” Wesley announced and you heard a clap, “all yours!”

“I’ll just transfer the deposit,” Peter said and a minute passed before he emerged again, the keys hanging from his finger, “Thanks, Wes.”

You hid your distaste. It used to be that Wesley hated being called ‘Wes’ but lately, he introduced himself to everyone as just ‘Wes’. He really had changed. You must have too.

“Hey,” you looked up and blinked as the sun made your eyes water as it shone around Peter.

“You bought it?” you asked as you yanked free a weed.

“Yep, but uh,” he glanced over his shoulder as the old car stereo Wesley used blared out a classic rock tune, “I… wasn’t eavesdropping but I heard some of it and… if you ever need a ride to the grocery store, I usually try for Wednesdays,” he tucked his hand in his pocket, “I don’t live too far and since we go to the same one--”

“No, no, you don’t have to do that,” you looked back to the soil, embarrassed.

“Well, if you change your mind,” he kept the keys dangling from one finger and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his wallet and slid out a card with some effort, “I’m supposed to have these handy but I never really use them.”

He offered the business card and you read his name above the title, ‘senior photographer’. You gave a half-hearted smile and put it in your apron pocket.

“Thanks,” you said, “I can manage.”

“You don’t have to though,” he said kindly, “but I’ll, uh, leave you to your gardening. Sorry if I bugged you.”

“You didn’t,” you assured without looking up, flattered that anyone cared enough to even offer help.

“Hey, Pete,” Wesley stopped Peter as he neared the car, “you can have one before you go.”

“Oh, no, I’m gonna be driving,” Peter argued.

“Pfft, it’s a celebration and one won’t put you over the limit,” Wesley insisted and handed him a dark bottle of craft brew, “come on.”

“I really should go--”

“It’s a Sunday, where do you need to be?” Wesley patted his shoulder and looked over at you, “hey, honey, you wanna see if we have any snacks for our guest?”

“I’m not hungry,” Peter said curtly, “really. Just the beer is fine.”

They disappeared back into the garage and you cringed. You hated that. Wesley only every acted like a husband when others were around.

💍

You waited a whole week before returning to the grocery store. You were short on everything and it was a reason to get out of the house. Your husband had made both your home and your workplace hostile.

It irked you that Wesley resented you working from home when a couple years ago he was so happy about it. Then, he’d been so enthusiastic about starting a family but when it didn’t happen right away, he grew disillusioned and bitter. Now, he seemed to have no interest in being a husband let alone a father.

As you packed up your spinach and bottles of Perrier, your cart rolled just a little as someone nudged it from the other end. You raised your head and hid your surprise and discomfort as Peter smiled back at you.

“I thought you said Wednesdays,” you murmured as you dropped a bag in your cart.

“I forgot eggs,” he held up the carton, “I guess I have good timing.”

“You do?” you asked as you pulled your cart forward and maneuvered around to push it out of the way of fellow shoppers. You bent to grab your trolley from beneath and he caught it as you unfolded it.

“I’ll drive you,” he said.

“I told you--”

“I’m here so why not? Save the ticket for next time,” he urged.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why does it matter? Why do I matter to you?” you asked.

“I don’t know, I… like helping people,” he shrugged, “what if I told you you were helping me? I have this horrible need to be the hero.”

“That will go away,” you muttered under your breath and he lifted a brow, “sorry, I… thank you.”

“Alright, let’s go then,” he collapsed the trolley and carried it easily under his arm as he cradled his eggs in the other, “I got the A/C fixed on the car too.”

“Mmm,” you hummed and walked with him out of the store.

You crossed the parking lot and helped you load up the bags in the trunk. That car should have been yours; you’d made enough payments on it yourself but Wesley was such a stubborn ass.

You sat in the front seat as he slid into the other and started the car. He drove cautiously through the lot and you read the store signs as he came to the exit.

“How long have you and… the old man been together?”

“Um,” you glanced over at him and chewed your lip, “since college so… almost fifteen years now.”

“Fifteen?” he turned out onto the street, “really? I thought he was older than you.”

“Christ,” you scoffed, “don’t flatter me.”

“Really, I woulda said twenty-eight at most,” he said coolly, “wow, I feel so young now.”

“And I feel so old,” you grumbled as you crossed your legs, hoping he didn’t notice the wrinkle in the pink capris.

“Whatever, you’re not even forty,” he said, “and time has treated you well so I can only think in a few years… oh jeez, sorry, that came off weirder than I intended. Not that I meant for it to be weird at all--”

You giggled at his rambling as he rolled to a stop at the sign and peeked over at you in the rearview. You caught his eye and quickly looked away, “what?”

“Just… you have a nice smile,” he said as he turned down a side street, “and a nice laugh.”

“Thank you,” your voice was brittle at the genuine compliment, “you’re funny.”

“Am I? I wasn’t trying to be,” he took the same short cut you took when you walked home from the convenience store which was closer than the plaza.

“And nice,” you said as he came onto your street, “you really didn’t have to drive me. You could’ve dropped me at the corner--”

“No way, I was raised better than that, and if you think I’m letting you carry that all in by yourself--”

“Raised to help little old ladies?” you mused.

“Raised to treat ladies properly,” he corrected, “especially pretty ones.”

“I’m married,” your heart pattered as you dared to flirt back, almost in disbelief that he was humouring you, “and your lies don’t work on me, young man.”

“Not that young,” he insisted as he pulled into the driveway.

You got out and went around to the trunk. He handed you the bag with the bread and other light products, and loaded up with the other bags.

“You get the doors, let me do the heavy work,” he said and nodded you towards the house.

You went ahead of him and unlocked the door. You let him inside and pointed him into the kitchen. He placed the bags on the counter and stretched his arms and hands as you set yours on the other side. The muscles of his arms moved under his skin and you could trace the lines of his torso through his grey tee.

“So,” he took out the bottle of Perrier, “this going in the fridge?”

“What-- you’ve done enough.”

“Fridge?” he ignored you and pulled out the other.

You gave a long blink and threw up your hands in surrender, “yes, please,” you came around and reached in to grab the whole grain buns, “bottom shelf.”

You finished unpacking your groceries and took the empty bags from Peter and shoved them under the counter. You stood and looked at him nervously as he watched you, his fingers tapping on the granite.

“Do you want a snack? Something to drink? Water?”

“I’ll have a water,” he said and moved to leaned his elbow on the countertop, his side snug to the edge.

“Sparkling or--”

“Regular’s fine,” he answered

“Ice? Lemon?” you pulled out a tall glass.

“Just ice is fine… then I’ll be out of your hair,” he said.

Ice clinked into the glass and you covered it with the distilled water from the fridge. You slid it onto the counter and stepped back.

“Oh, I… actually, it’s a good thing I ran into you,” he said and took a sip, “my aunt, she likes to garden too but she got some bulbs she’s not gonna use, I thought maybe… maybe you would like some to fill in the holes?”

“What kind?” you asked.

“Some daffodils and some crocuses, I think,” he said, “I could bring them over next week after work?”

“That sounds like a lot of work,” you scrunched your lips, “you could probably just give them to a neighbour.”

“It’s not out of the way,” he said, “you want them?”

You stared at him and thought. He was nice. Too nice.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing, I… I’m sure you have a girlfriend you could be spending time with--”

“I don’t. Not anymore,” he interrupted.

“Oh, sorry,” you said, “I didn’t--”

“Like I said, I always wanna be the good guy,” he finished his water and the last of the cubes settled at the bottom, “thanks.”

“No, thank you,” you said as he set his glass in the sink and backed away, “really, you made my day so much easier.”

“I hope your weekend is better,” he said, “but…”

He didn’t finished and you folded your hands together as he hesitated by the hallway.

“But what?” you prodded.

“Nothing,” he shook his head, “nothing. I should go.”

“Okay,” you rubbed the back of your neck, “see ya.”

“Monday,” he confirmed as he turned to the doorframe, “I’ll bring the bulbs. Just after seven.”

“Right,” you slanted your lips and watched him go.

The door marked his departure and you turned to exhale and lean against the counter. You could still smell his rich cologne. Then you felt guilty. It was stupid to think he was doing anything more than being nice, that the flirting was anything but a joke, but still, you missed feeling that way and it should’ve been Wesley making you feel that.

💍

You squeezed the phone as you clenched your jaw so tight it hurt. Your eyes were wet and finally the tears were ready to start falling. The smell of steak filled the kitchen, another meal you wouldn’t eat. At the last minute, Wesley texted to tell you he was hitting the gym. Again. He was already late after a long meeting but promised he’d be home to eat.

So you waited for him to answer your furious phone call but got his voicemail instead. Your eyes narrowed at the bottle of wine and your chest knotted as the tone sounded.

“Wesley, this is it. I can’t do this anymore! I’m your wife. Do you even want to be with me? I can’t go on like this and now you won’t even answer my calls,” you snarled. You knew he had his phone on him as he no doubt had his Spotify work-out list on shuffle, “when you come home, you can sleep on the couch.”

You hung up and grabbed a stemmed glass from the cupboard. You filled it to the brim with Pinot Grigio but before you could taste it, the doorbell made you jump. You set down the glass and walked up the hallway. Just on the other side of the frosted glass was a silhouette. You opened the door and touched your forehead as you faced Peter.

“I totally forgot you were coming,” you breathed, “I’m so sorry. But thank you, you really didn’t have to--”

“Are you okay?” he asked as the paper bag in his hand crinkled.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I… thank you for the flowers,” you looked at the brown paper bag and he handed it over, another bag on his wrist; white with ribbon handles, “what’s that? You headed out for a date?”

“Um, no,” he said, “actually, I was just…” he pushed his fingers through his hairs, the reddish brown locks slightly curled with sweat, “I wanted to talk to you.” He looked past you and his warm eyes returned to yours, “Wesley isn’t home yet?”

“No, he won’t be for a while,” you backed up, “so you might as well come in. I have a steak no one’s gonna eat.”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t be,” Peter said glumly, “and steak sounds good.”

He closed the door behind him and followed you into the kitchen. You put the bulbs at the back of the counter and grabbed the bottle, “wine?”

“No thank you,” he said.

You plunked down the bottle and took a gulp of your wine before you turned to plate the steak and your chicken breast alongside the fried asparagus and roasted potatoes. You set the filet before him as he sat on the stool and climbed up across from him at the long island.

“Thank you,” he watched you slide a steak knife and fork towards him and his gaze lingered on your lips as you took another thirsty mouthful, “this is for you, actually.”

He pushed the white bag over to you and you smelled the subtle floral scent rising from it. You put your glass down and pushed open the top of the bag and peeked inside. You shook your head and rescinded your hand as if you were slapped. It was the same perfume from that day weeks ago.

“You… how?”

“You don’t remember?” he asked.

You thought back on the day you wanted to forget. He was the other shopper in the perfume section, the one who sent you that sympathetic look as Wesley reproached you. You winced and grabbed your utensils. You cut into the chicken and shoved it in your mouth. You swallowed loudly.

“Take it back,” you sniffed, “I don’t want it. I don’t deserve it.”

“You do. He doesn’t deserve you,” he carefully sliced into the medium rare steak.

“Is that what this is? Some perverted joke? A challenge?” you dropped your fork and knife, “you think you can seduce the sad housewife and then laugh at it? Sow your wild oats?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” he calmly put down the silverware, “I… what I didn’t say when I showed up is I just came from the gym.”

You frowned in confusion and wrinkled your nose. You took another drink of wine as you tried to understand.

“I saw Wesley,” he said as he leaned on his elbow and pulled out his phone with his other hand, “I didn’t wanna say anything but… you’re here beating yourself up over him and-- just look.”

He slid his phone across the counter and you looked at the screen. Your entire body felt heavy and your veins filled with ice. You dropped your head into your hands as you tried to wipe the sight from your eyes; the image of your husband groping a woman in yoga pants, an act she wasn’t deterring.

“I knew it,” you sobbed as the tears burst forth and leaked down your palms, “I knew it. And why wouldn’t he? I’m old, ugly--” you sniffed and pulled your hands away to wipe them on your pants. Peter held out a paper towel and you took it as you avoided his eyes, “thank you but I think you should go. I’m humiliated enough.”

“You shouldn’t be alone,” he said as he climbed down from the stool and rounded the island, “he’s an asshole. He’s blind.”

“Please, Peter, just leave me alone,” you slid off the stool and he caught your shoulders. You looked up at him as you dabbed away the streaks of sadness with the paper towel, “Peter--”

“I’m not leaving,” he said firmly, “he’s out there having his fun, so why don’t you have some of your own?”

“Peter, that’s-- that’s wrong. I’m too old for you. And… I’m fat and--”

“You’re perfect,” he reached up to frame your chin with his hand, “you’re gorgeous,” his other hand trailed down your arm and to your hip, “that’s the first thing I noticed about you…” he pulled you closer and tapped your ass lightly.

“No, I can’t-- I just want to be alone,” you pushed on his arms and felt the thick biceps as he flexed and kept you close.

“Well, baby, what I want,” he turned you so that you were pinned between him and the island, “is for you to put on that perfume… I want you wearing nothing but that.”

“Peter,” you pushed on his chest that time and the hard muscle wall didn’t budge, “Peter, go--”

“Baby,” he bent and scooped you up suddenly.

His hands spread over your ass as he lifted you and crushed his lips against yours. You murmured in surprise and he placed you on the granite countertop. He parted from your lips as you sat up and he shoved your legs apart, inserting himself between your knees. He played with the bottom of the dress you’d worn in hopes of rekindling your dying marriage.

“We can go slow,” he tickled along your thighs and pulled back suddenly, “just a little at a time.”

He leaned in as he reached around you and grabbed the small white bag. He pulled out the perfume and snaked his hand around your neck. He pulled you to bend over him and he kissed your neck just before he sprayed a puff of perfume across your throat. He stood back and took a deep breath. He put the bottle on the counter and his hands went back to your skirt.

“Peter,” you caught his hands as they crept under the fabric, “please.”

You tried to slide forward and he stopped you as he grasped your hips and held you in place. He bit his lip as his eyes glimmered up at you. He drew a hand away and took the glass of wine and held it before your mouth.

“Drink, relax,” he cooed, “forget about him.”

You stared at him and he brought your hand up with his and wrapped it around the full body of the glass. He nudged it to your lips and watched you until you drank from the crystal rim. He smirked and lifted your skirt as he bent to bury his head beneath the folds.

You gulped and choked on the wine as your skirt fluttered down over his shoulders. You felt his finger on the lace trim of your panties and winced. He squeezed your thighs with his other hand and nuzzled the crotch of your underwear. You tried to close your legs but he kept them apart easily.

He curled his fingers under the elastic of your panties and tugged. He pulled until you lifted your ass just enough for him to get them free and he guided them down your legs before quickly parting them again.

You set down the glass and almost overturned it, the last mouthful splashing up the side. You pressed your hands to the granite and peered down at the shape of his head beneath your skirt. You gasped as his cool tongue grazed your warm folds and delved deeper.

“Peter…” you wisped and closed your eyes as you tried to hide from your own shame.

He purred as his tongue flicked over your clit and you twitched. He caressed the crease of your thigh with his fingers as he lapped at your, his other hand pressed against your stomach until you fell back across the counter. You arched your back instinctively and his hand cupped your tit through your dress.

He blindly pulled until your chest slipped out and pushed the cup of your bra as he teased your clit with his tongue. He felt along your cunt with his fingers and shoved his index inside of you. You moaned as he pushed another inside and curled them as he suckled on your bud.

Your core burned to life. Your entire being was set alight after months without affection. You quivered in delight and fear. Your nerves stormed both out of guilt and hunger. It felt so good but you knew it was wrong. The scent of the perfume filled your nose as your skin grew hot.

He moved his hand in time with his mouth as he doted on you. His touch intensified as your legs bent around the side of the island and your fingernails dragged along the granite, your voice rising without thought. He pinched your nipple and you cried out as you came in a wave of sheer pleasure and grabbed his wrist as you tried to steady yourself.

He eased off slowly as you trembled in the afterglow, his lingering touch tickled along your legs as he pushed your dress up. He pulled you to sit up and lifted the fabric over your head and ripped your sleeves free from your arms. He tossed as side the garment and swiftly covered your mouth with his so you tasted your own arousal on his tongue.

He unhooked your bra blindly and slid it off your arms. You were intensely aware of your nakedness and as you brought your arms up to cover yourself, he forced them down and ran his hands over your bare torso.

“Beautiful,” he said as he laid a trail of gentle pecks along your throat and chest, pausing to take a nipple in his mouth as he rolled the other between his fingers and sent a shiver through you.

He kneaded your sides and hips, his fingers danced along your thighs and he followed the path with his mouth, kissing and nipping your flesh. He lifted his head again as he took your hands and twined his fingers through yours. He tugged you gently until you slid off the counter and landed on your feet shakily.

“Baby, you’re so amazing,” he placed your hands on his chest and pushed them down his muscled torso and brought them back up beneath his tee shirt, “go on.”

He let you go and you continued to roll up his tee. He dipped his head and raised his arms to help you and you clung to the tee as it fell limp in your grasp. Dazed, he snatched the shirt from your hands and flung it. He once more pressed your hands to his chest and guided you in feeling the lines of his toned flesh.

He pushed your hands against the top of his jeans and leaned into you. He kissed your temple and whispered along your hairline, “turn around, baby.” He squeezed your ass and purred, “mmmm, please, I wanna see that ass.”

You blinked, dazed, and spun slowly. You caught yourself on the edge of the counter as your legs trembled and you heard the subtle zip. He kicked his foot between yours and pushed your legs apart as he led you back so that you were slightly bent against the island. He ran his nails down your back and gripped your hip with one hand as his other drew away from your skin.

You flinched as you felt his smooth tip against your ass and he rubbed it between your cheeks. You inhaled and held in your breath as his hold on your tightened and he angled his dick under your ass and grazed your cunt. He poked your entrance and pressed his chest to your back as his hand covered yours on the granite.

He slid into you and your voice fizzled in the air as he forced the air from your lungs. You pushed your head back and it met his shoulder as his other hand crawled down your front. He spread your folds with his fingers and swirled another around your clit as he tilted his hips and thrust into you slowly.

“Ah, Peter,” you slapped the counter and he shushed you as his hand left yours cold and his fingers stretched over your throat.

His motion picked up as the noise of him crashing into you echoed around the kitchen. Your eyes rolled back as he rammed into you even harder. You were on tiptoes as he was driven by the weak moans that leaked from your lips and your wet pleasure squelched around him. He pressed two fingers to your bud and rubbed until you squeaked and your thighs quaked around him.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled, “I bet you never cum like that for him.”

You whined and he sped up again. He pinned you against the counter so that the lip pressed into your stomach. He took his hand from your cunt and pushed your head down as he kept his other hand around your neck. He didn’t waver once as he fucked you.

“Touch yourself, baby,” he commanded, “I want you to cum again for me. I know you want to too.”

His thick breath warmed the air and grazed your back as he held you down and his hold on your neck tightened until silver stars rose in your vision. Your feet dangled against the tile and you reached down to play with your clit as it buzzed. It was only seconds before you were murmuring in ecstasy once more.

“Fuck, baby, can you feel that? The way your clinging to me,” he puffed as he slammed into you over and over, “he can hardly fill you, can he? Hmmm? Little man.”

You wheezed as he choked you and his other hand kept your head pinned. You heard a distant creak but could barely do more than keep your fingers moving as your heartbeat deafened you. You came again and croaked as your cunt squeezed him hungrily.

“What the fuck?” the voice broke your lusty trance and suddenly you were pulled away from the counter.

Your head lulled as Peter held it up and turned you around, his pelvis slapping against your ass as you faced your husband. Your mouth hung open as your blurred vision barely registered the scene and the deep grunts only got louder behind you.

“Look who’s here,” Peter rasped as he snaked his arm around you.

“The fuck are you doing?” Wesley sneered as your eyes closed and your ass rang with each thrust.

“What you can’t,” Peter snickered, “doesn’t she look so happy?” He grasped your chin and pushed his fingers into your mouth as he held your head up, “well, you into watching or you gonna let us finish, old man?”

#peter parker #dark peter parker #dark!peter parker #fic #peter parker x reader #dark fic #one shot #dark!fic #do us part #marvel #mcu #spider-man #avengers

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just-another-blog-of-fluff · 3 years ago

Text

Can't Keep a Secret

Word count: 4300

Warnings: tickling, fluff, reader with an inability to keep secrets, reader with a crush on a certain god of mischief

I'm so excited for 100 followers!! I didn't expect so many people to actually be interested in my writing when I started posting 🥰

This one is based on @atlas-of-the-universe's request here for a fic where Loki tickles the reader to get information of some kind 😉 I hope this is what you were looking for!

This one also has a little more crushing/romantic fluff than some of my other fics at the end, so if you're not into that just skip that part. As always, completely SFW!

* * *

No one ever seemed to do anything nice for Loki. So, when Thor approached you to ask if you’d help him and the others plan a surprise birthday party for his brother, you wholeheartedly agreed to assist. As the Avengers’ best party planner, you jumped at the chance to start brainstorming ideas to make this party the best Loki had ever experienced – including on Asgard. And, if it meant he’d pay a little extra attention to you, well… that was an added bonus.

The only problem was – you were terrible at keeping secrets.

It wasn’t as if you went around spilling the details when someone asked you not to tell the others about something. You knew enough not to just blurt out the fact that you were planning a party. Unfortunately, though, you had a tendency to let your feelings show in your facial expressions. Trying to keep secrets made you anxious, knowing you’d been the one to accidentally say just a little bit too much in the past and ruined other surprises.

The fact that you were the worst secret keeper was no… secret, for lack of a better word. Your teammates frequently exploited this fact when they wanted to know what you were hiding from them. Tony, especially, loved to talk circles around you until he could get you to trip up and give some detail away. On the other hand, they also tried not to let you in on too many details when they were planning a surprise for one of the other team members.

This time, you were determined not to give anything away. You were thrilled that the team was finally going to do something special for Loki, and you were NOT going to ruin it by spilling the beans to the trickster. Thor was probably one of the more trusting members of the Avengers, and he assured you when he asked you to help with the party that he had faith you wouldn’t screw up (quite literally in those words).

You started researching online to get some ideas. This party had to live up to the standards of an Asgardian prince, so you couldn’t just order a few pizzas and beer and call it a party. Plus, Tony had offered to pay for the whole thing (you suspected he felt guilty for having accidentally blasted Loki through a wall in the training room with his new Ironman suit the week prior) so your funds were basically limitless.

Inevitably, though, you were bound to run into situations where you had to spend time with the raven-haired god without allowing yourself to let any details slip.

The moment Loki first started to suspect you were hiding something was when he walked in on a conversation you were having with Thor in the kitchen. You had been asking him about the Asgardian mead his brother loved so much and wanted to know if he could manage to get some here on Midgard for the party.

“What is it about the Asgardian mead that you like so much better than standard alcohol?” you inquired curiously.

“Ha! That is a very funny question, Lady Y/N,” Thor laughed heartily. “As if any Midgardian liquor could so much as hold a candle to the spirits we drink on Asgard.”

“Hey! I enjoy my tequila! Margaritas are arguably a delicious alcoholic beverage,” you bantered.

“You truly believe this ‘margarita’ as you call it could compare to the smooth, sophisticated taste of an Asgardian mead?” Thor countered.

“I must agree with my brother on this one – I have seen this ‘margarita’ drink you speak of, and it is highly unlikely to be superior to Asgardian spirits.”

You gasped involuntarily when you heard Loki’s voice in the doorway, spinning around to face him with a look of bewilderment on your face. He cocked his head to the side, raising an eyebrow as he scrutinized your expression.

“Oh, hey Loki! Didn’t see you there,” you greeted, trying to lean casually against the counter you were standing beside.

“Yes… it appears you didn’t. You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.” Loki folded his arms across his chest, eyeing you intently. “What was it that brought you to the subject of Asgardian liquor?”

“Oh, that? Well…”

“I was just informing Lady Y/N that I have been feeling a bit nostalgic thinking about the celebrations we had on Asgard, when we would drink heartily with Lady Sif and the Warriors Three,” Thor cut in, quickly interrupting you mid-sentence. “Brother, you must recall the time you had a bit too much while drinking with us and…”

“I believe that’s quite enough nostalgia for one evening, dear brother,” Loki cut in, appearing almost frantic as he glanced quickly at you before turning back to glare at the elder Asgardian. “Stark asked me to inform you he requires your assistance in the laboratory. You’ll need to continue this conversation another time.”

“Ah, yes, alright then. Another time,” Thor agreed, winking at you before he exited the kitchen. Loki followed close behind, but not before giving you one last calculating glance before he crossed through the doorway and out of sight. You let out a breath of relief, hoping he hadn’t thought much of the conversation.

You noticed, though, that Loki started conveniently popping up around you more often after that incident. Maybe he didn’t want Thor to have the opportunity to tell you about whatever embarrassing story had occurred when they were younger, you thought. Regardless, it meant that you had to be extremely cautious about doing any planning for the party in any of the common areas.

The second time you nearly let something slip was during a hushed conversation in the training room with Peter after one of your sparring matches. He had pulled you aside after training to ask your opinion about whether he should ask his friend MJ to attend the party with him. He’d had a crush on the girl for quite some time, and now that she knew his secret identity he thought it might be time to introduce her to his Avengers family.

“I’m nervous she might not want to come, but I think it would be a great chance for her to meet everyone when the focus would be on someone else,” he explained. You hiked your backpack up onto your shoulder with your training gear and made your way toward the door to the training room with Peter by your side.

“Why wouldn’t she want to come? From what you’ve told me, she seems to be more of a social butterfly than you are, even,” you asked.

“Yeah… you’re right, I’m probably overthinking this, aren’t I?” he chuckled. “I just don’t want to screw things up!”

“What are you screwing up this time, spiderling?”

You stopped short as you heard Loki’s voice from behind you, making your heart leap into your throat. You turned around, trying not to look startled.

“Oh, Peter wants his friend MJ to attend… a training session with us!” you fibbed, trying to think quickly. “You know, so he can show her his Spider-Man moves!”

“Yeah! That’s right,” Peter agreed, nodding vigorously. “I’m going to go call her right now, thanks Y/N!” Peter scurried off down the hallway, leaving you standing with a somewhat skeptical looking god of mischief.

“Why was Peter asking you about inviting a friend to his training? Would he not have asked Stark?” Loki inquired. You shrugged in a non-committal way.

“Who knows? Anyway, uh, it was nice talking to you, but I’ve got to get going… big assignment to finish up tonight, can’t really stop and chat. See you later!” you blurted, not waiting for a response as you hurried toward your room. Phew, that was close, you thought to yourself, hoping he hadn’t been standing behind you for too long.

Later that week, you found yourself alone in the common room while watching television. You pulled out your laptop during one of the commercials and started searching the internet for caterers, hoping to find something fancy enough to appeal to an Asgardian god. You had thought that everyone else was out for the day, so you weren’t overly concerned about anyone seeing what you were doing.

“What mindless reality television show are you watching today?” The smooth, baritone voice caused you to jerk your head up from your laptop screen and instinctively slam it shut. He hadn’t even been standing behind you to see what you were searching – it was purely on reflex that you closed the computer. Loki raised his eyebrows at you. “I see you aren’t really watching anything, are you? What is it you were viewing on your computer?”

“Nothing! I mean, nothing exciting, really. Just some old photos that I was trying to sort through,” you stammered, standing up with the laptop clutched to your chest. “You can have the TV if you want, though. I have to go… work on that assignment some more. I was just taking a break. It’s almost done!” Loki opened his mouth as if to say something, but you didn’t wait around to let him ask any more questions that might make you give away something you shouldn’t. You spent the rest of the evening in your room, avoiding the trickster at all costs.

The next morning, after getting ready for the day, you grabbed some breakfast before heading back to your room to continue to do some additional party planning research where Loki wouldn’t walk in on you unexpectedly. You shoved the last bite of one of Thor’s pop-tarts that you’d stolen into your mouth as you approached your door, opening it and walking toward your desk where your laptop sat. You always left the door slightly ajar when you were in your room, and so you were quite surprised when you heard the door thump shut behind you, the lock clicking into place.

“You’ve been hiding something from me.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, your heart pounding in your chest. You turned around slowly, staring wide-eyed at the god of mischief now standing in your bedroom between you and your only exit. His hands were clasped behind his back, his blue-green eyes gleaming ominously as he stared you down.

“Oh, hey Loki! What brings you to my room?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

“Let’s end this little charade, hmm?” He took a few slow paces forward into the room, closing the distance between the two of you. “It’s become clear to me over the last week that you have knowledge of some information that you do not want me to become aware of. I’d like you to tell me what it is.” His tone was calm; low, but dangerous. You swallowed hard.

“Loki, I-I’m not sure what you mean. I don’t have any secrets.” You took a step back from the advancing Asgardian, your back meeting the cold, hard wood of your desk behind you.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The choice is up to you,” he threatened, stepping even closer so he was only a foot away from where you stood trapped against your desk. “Tell me what it is you’re hiding, or I will… coerce you into talking.”

“Coerce me? Heh, what’s that supposed to mean?” you asked nervously, your hands gripping the desk behind you.

“I have my ways. I am the god of mischief, after all.” Loki stood in front of you unmoving, a barrier holding you hostage against your desk.

“Even if I did have something to hide, you wouldn’t hurt me. Your brother would kill you,” you warned.

“I never suggested I would hurt you, darling. I would never do such a thing.” He took the slightest step closer. “You seem tense. Am I making you nervous?”

“Very.”

“Good.” A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. “Have you decided, then? Will we be doing this the easy way or the hard way?”

“I told you, I have nothing to hide,” you insisted.

“Very well then. We’ll do this the hard way.” Quickly, you darted around Loki toward the door, trying to make your escape. He was faster, though, catching you with an arm around your waist and dragging you back so your back was against his chest. “Tell me, darling…” he growled in your ear, making you shiver, “… are you… ticklish?”

“Wha-“ you opened your mouth to protest but stopped speaking as you felt gentle scratching on your side. You shook your head quickly, suppressing the giggles that were threatening to rise out of your throat. If you stood still long enough, maybe he would give up.

“Do you think you’re fooling me by not allowing yourself to laugh? I felt you tense up immediately the moment I touched you.” He tightened his grip, wrapping both arms around your waist and digging his fingers into your sides. You snorted at the sudden sensation, doubling over to try to fight your way out of his grasp. “As I suspected. You are extraordinarily ticklish.”

“S-shut up, Loki!” you demanded, your muscles relaxing as his fingers stilled against your sides. He released you, allowing you to turn and face him but still standing in between you and the door.

“Now then – are you going to tell me what it is you’re hiding? Or do I need to tickle you until you are begging for mercy?”

You felt your face flush with heat. You’d been tickled before, certainly, but only for a few seconds at a time, and never as a means to pry information from you. Truthfully, though, you were enjoying this playful side of Loki. You were also determined not to tell him about the party – it would be so much more fun if it were a surprise, and he deserved to have fun. You braced yourself, folding your arms defiantly across your chest.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

Before you could react, Loki had tackled you, and you found yourself flat on the floor with your wrists pinned over your head. Your heart hammered against your ribcage as the dark-haired Asgardian loomed over you, his smirk growing wider.

“I see you’ve made your choice, then. But I should warn you – I don’t do mercy.” The fingertips of his free hand connected with your belly, lightly tracing the soft skin through your shirt. You turned your head so you wouldn’t have to look at him, his knowing stare making it more difficult to prevent yourself from laughing. Slowly, he applied more pressure until he was clawing at your belly with all five fingers, varying between the center and sides and analyzing your expression to evaluate your response.

“I-I’m telling y-you, t-there’s nothing to t-tell,” you insisted, jolting a little each time his fingers found a particularly sensitive spot.

“Unfortunately, I don’t believe you.” He shifted his attack to your side, his fingers spidering gradually up your ribcage. Your nerves were alight with ticklish shocks, helpless giggles now bubbling out of your chest.

“W-whyhyhy don’t you believe mehehe?” you asked, your tone starting to sound more desperate.

“You’re not exactly subtle. It’s rather obvious when you’re trying to keep a secret.” Loki was now scratching in between your upper ribs, and your giggles were evolving into desperate laughter. “I see this is becoming more challenging for you. I wonder – should I try to identify all of your weak spots? Surely one of them will get you talking.”

“NOHOHO LOKI!” you pleaded, thrashing to try to free your wrists from his grasp.

“You’ll need to provide me some information, then. What was it you were really discussing with my brother the other night?”

“HE TOHOHOLD YOU!!” You shrieked as Loki’s fingers found purchase under one of your arms, your feet pounding against the floor in desperation.

“Honestly, Y/N, I didn’t believe a word either of you said.” His fingertips grazed the underside of your upper arm, tracing from your elbow down to your underarm and back up again. You hadn’t realized how ticklish the soft skin of your arm could be, but his maddeningly light touch had you writhing to try to evade his fingers.

“STAHAHAP THAT!” you begged, yanking at your restrained wrists to try to lower your arms. Even before you were in this weakened state, the god of mischief was stronger than you.

“Then talk.”

“NEVER!”

“Aha!” he exclaimed suddenly, lifting his fingers away from your arm. You sucked in air desperately, letting out the residual giggles as he allowed you a moment to recover. “You ARE hiding something! You’ve given yourself away.”

“I… but… no I didn’t!” you pouted. He chuckled, a genuine grin spreading across his face at your adorable, disappointed frown.

“It’s too late now. You may as well tell me your secret.”

“I won’t tell! I’ll never tell!” you barked, a sudden surge of bravery rushing through you.

“I’m afraid I must continue, then,” he stated, feigning pity. “Why don’t you tell me where else you are ticklish instead?”

“What? No! I won’t tell you that either!”

“Fine. It’s much more amusing for me to locate your weak spots myself anyway.” Loki released your wrists and in the same motion reached behind him to squeeze above your knees with both hands. You yelped at the unexpected touch, trying with difficulty to sit up now that your arms were free. You reached toward Loki’s sides to try to retaliate but he was too perceptive, grabbing a wrist in each hand using his cat-like reflexes. “You don’t want to do that, darling,” he warned.

“Oh, but I think I do,” you argued, trying your hardest to break free of his grip. He wrestled with you for a moment, successfully forcing you onto your stomach so you could no longer sit up and try to counterattack.

“Now then – where were we?” he huffed as he sat himself down on the back of your legs, pinning you in place. You lifted your upper body up onto your elbows and turned to look at him, keeping a close eye on his hands. “Ah, that’s right. You were about to tell me what you were discussing with the spiderling the other day.”

“No I was-“ your retort died in your mouth as Loki’s fingertips touched down on the backs of your knees. “L-Loki, hold on, don’t you even think about it.”

“Why? Too sensitive?” he teased, tracing one finger along the tendon in the back of your knee. You let out a squeal, only egging him on as he began to flutter his fingers against the thin skin there.

“LOKI I WILL KIHIHILL YOHOHOU!”

“You hardly sound threatening when you’re giggling like a child,” he taunted, tracing along the skin on the inner sides of your knees. You reached back desperately with one hand while holding yourself up with the other elbow, trying to grab hold of his tickling fingers. He snickered at your feeble attempts, reaching up quickly to slide his fingers under your arm so your elbow would buckle beneath your torso before returning his attention to your knees. “This could all stop if you’d just tell me what your secret is.”

At this point, you’d come to the embarrassing realization that you were actually having fun, despite your abdominal muscles aching from laughing so hard. You were also still determined to keep the party a secret, if not for you then for Loki’s own good. You picked yourself back up onto your elbows so you could turn and look back at him defiantly.

“No!” you declared.

“No? I see I must not be trying hard enough, then. Let’s try somewhere else, shall we?” Loki shifted his weight so he could pin your legs down with his shin, his gaze turning down toward your socked feet.

“Don’t… you… dare!” you warned, noticing where his line of sight was directed. He placed his fingertips teasingly against the soles of your feet, maintaining eye contact with you, eyes glowing with mischief.

“I’ll give you one final chance. Spill,” he ordered. You merely smirked back at him.

“Make me.”

Without another word, Loki sprang back into action, his torturous fingertips skimming along the soles of your feet. Frantic giggles spilled from your lips as you tried jerking your feet away from his touch without success.

“I’d wager you’re regretting what you said now, aren’t you?” he goaded, scratching under your toes with one finger on each foot. Your giggles pitched up as you curled your toes to prevent him from reaching the sensitive skin. “Are you prepared to talk now?”

“NEHEHEVER!!” you screeched, still determined to win. Eventually he’d get tired of this and give up, right?

“Then I’m afraid you leave me no choice.” You practically screamed in ticklish agony as his fingers once again connected with your ribs, darting rapidly up and down your sides and under your arms, scribbling into the small of your back, fluttering against the sides of your neck and behind your ears, never staying in one place long enough to grow accustomed to the sensation. Your laughter fell silent as you tapped your hand hard on the floor, signaling you were giving up. Seeing your signal, Loki’s fingers stilled against you, still pressed gently into your sides as a warning that he could start right back up again at any moment. “Talk.”

“I will… alright… just… just give me a sec,” you huffed, your chest heaving with exertion. Your mind was racing, trying to come up with a plausible lie that would satisfy the god of lies. Your heart sank as you realized you couldn’t possibly come up with something in the next ten seconds that would fool him. It had to be the truth. “I’ll tell you, but you have to swear to me you won’t tell your brother that I told you.”

“That depends on what it is you’re about to tell me,” Loki bantered.

“No, I’m serious!” Loki shifted so his weight was no longer pressed on your legs, and you turned over into a seated position on the floor. “Promise me you won’t tell.”

“Fine. I promise. Now tell me.” You took a deep breath.

“We’re planning a party. For you. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

Loki was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. His blue-green eyes searched yours as if trying to find any hint of a lie in your face. His face softened a bit as he began to realize you were actually telling the truth.

“What for?” he asked, his tone flat.

“For your birthday.”

“We don’t celebrate birthdays on Asgard, we have far too many of them to be excited for them.”

“Ugh, Loki, don’t you get it? Thor wanted to do something nice for you! I wanted to do something nice for you!” You held his gaze, trying to prove to him you still weren’t lying.

“You wanted to do something for me?” His voice was low, but there was something different about his tone; something you hadn’t heard before. Hope? Excitement? You averted your gaze down to the floor, poking at the fibers in the carpet with your finger.

“Yeah, I did. You deserve something nice. You’ve come a long way since New York. And you’re… a good friend.” You felt heat rush to your face. You’d nearly revealed another secret, one you had no intention of telling him today. Or ever. Unfortunately, Loki was perceptive.

“That sounded like another lie, Y/N,” he stated ominously. You risked a glance up at him, seeing a smirk slowly spreading across his face.

“What?! No, it’s not!” you argued, the warmth in your face spreading to your ears.

“Haven’t you learned not to lie to me by now?” Loki suddenly grabbed hold of your waist, dragging you closer to him. “Or do I need to repeat the lesson?” His fingers latched onto your ribcage, squeezing and kneading with maddening precision. Still exhausted from the previous attack, you immediately caved.

“ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT! I like you, ok??” Loki stopped tickling you, not yet releasing you from his grasp. You covered your flushed face with your hands. “Happy now?”

Loki pried your hands gently away from your face, tilting your chin up with his finger. His eyes were softer than you’d ever seen them before as he gazed at you, a small smile on his face. With a surge of confidence, you closed the gap between your faces, pressing your lips to his. He kissed you back, gently but passionately all at once. When he finally pulled away, he grinned at you.

“Yes, I am happy,” he said simply. You smiled shyly back at him.

“Good.” You hardened your expression a bit, although admittedly it was hard to wipe the smile off your face. “You still have to act surprised. I can’t have people thinking I can’t keep a secret.” Loki laughed at that, his voice rumbling in his chest.

“But you can’t, darling.” He gave you one last poke in the side, eliciting a whine from you. “I’ll do my best to act surprised. I am the god of lies, after all. I should be able to put on a convincing display.”

“Good.” You allowed him to help you to your feet before shooing him out the door. “Now, get out of my room. I still have planning to do.”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled, stopping in the doorway to look at you. “I’ll go, but only if you’ll have dinner with me tonight.”

“Only if you don’t tickle me,” you countered.

“Sorry, love, but I can’t make any promises,” he replied, winking. You sighed, smiling at him.

“I guess I’ll take my chances then.”

#loki tickle #ticklish!reader #tickle fluff #tickle fic #marvel tickle

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free-pool-trash · 4 years ago

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of pick up lines and garden flowers - peter maximoff

requests: Hello! I'm a big fan of basically all your Peter Maximoff x Reader stories and was wondering if you could write one where both of them got sucked into Westview and reader's "role" is a florist and Peter's in love with her or something? Bonus points if they were already together before getting trapped in the town and every time they meet, reader gets a flashback of when they were together? That would be pretty awesome to read :D

hey bestie ✨ i love this idea it’s super cute <3 thank you for sending it in i hope you enjoy <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated

word count: 1.1K (it’s short but i quite like it)

warnings: peter being dorky, really fluffy

masterlist

The sound of the bell above your door chiming alerted you that you had a customer. You smiled softly, not turning around, continuing to fix the arrangement of flowers in front of you.

“Back again?” You teased, already knowing who the visitor was without having to turn around. He came in at the same time every single day.

Once you finished adjusting the lilies on the shelf, you spun around to face the silver haired man who leaned against your cash counter casually, “Thought you needed your daily dose of vitamin P.”

“Dear god. That’s the worst one yet, truly, you’ve outdone yourself.” You cackled, busying yourself with filling out orders to avoid catching his trademark cheesy grin.

It had become a routine. He’d stroll into your shop and hit you with his best terrible pick up line and you’d send him away with a single flower.

“You smile wider the worse they are.” He informed, his dimples on full display as his grin had turned into a wide, loving smile.

If you hadn’t known better you would’ve sworn that you’ve seen that adoring smile of his before. Yeah, you’d seen it almost everyday this week but even from the very first day he’d stumbled into your shop and accidentally knocked over a vase of freshly organised hydrangeas he was familiar- he felt familiar.

Riding that train of thought you let out a soft “Oh”, as you remembered the flower you’d chosen to send him away with today. It wasn’t anything too special to the naked eye but whenever you looked at it you were hit with a sudden wave of nostalgia, the feeling was similar to the one you got when you’d lock eyes with the man who stood before you now, and so you figured why not put two good things together?

Quickly you pulled the flower out of the vase behind the cash counter where you were keeping it and presented it to Peter with a bright smile, “Tah-dah!”

Peter stared at the flower for a second, before his eyes moved up to your face. Truthfully, Peter didn’t really care about flowers, but he did however care about you and for whatever reason he couldn’t seem to keep himself from coming back to you time and time again.

He took the flower from you gently, making sure his fingers lingered against yours while you passed him the stem, he admired the steady blush that began rising on your cheeks at the contact.

“Why’d you pick a daisy?” He asked, twirling the green stem between his fingers and for a brief second, as you watched him grinning and messing with the taller than average garden flower, it was as if the fog had cleared completely.

The night was hot, you were laying in the garden simply listening to the crickets and allowing the cool breeze to sweep over you as you twirled a small daisy that you’d plucked from the grass between your fingers.

“Psst. Y/n!” Peter’s whisper startled you from your relaxation and you turned your head to look at him.

“Mhm?” Peter plopped himself down beside you, dropping his head onto your lap and letting out a content sigh as he did.

You sat up on the grass, careful not to move his head too much, you began to play with it softly as he began to speak, “Are you a magician?” He asked, looking up at your face seriously as if the question he just posed was the most important question he’d ever ask you.

Before you could even really process his question, a huge grin made its way across his lips, “Because when I’m with you everybody else disappears.”

“We’re the only people here, my love.” You reminded him through a giggle, “But counter question- Are you a parking ticket?” Peter scoffed, raising an eyebrow at you, completely unimpressed by your line’s set up.

“Why? Cuz I’ve got “fine” written all over me? Lame.” He complained rolling his eyes.

Lightly you flicked his nose, “No, I was gonna say it’s because you’re a huge inconvenience.” His gasp caused you to bark out a laugh, pleased with his outraged response.

Within a second Peter tackled you back into the grass, his fingers running up and down your sides, relentlessly. Loving the way your laughter came out in howls, the way they always did when he tickled you. Your eyes watered as he refused to let up until you were begging through squeals of laughter for him to stop. When he finally ceased his attack on your ribs, he let out a chuckle of his own and rolled off of your body, lying on the grass beside you instead.

It took you a second to catch your breath again, eventually when you managed to even out your breathing you turned your head to look at Peter, who was already looking at you. His gaze almost made you lose your breath again. His brown eyes twinkled and his skin was illuminated weakly by the moon that shone full above you, perfectly highlighting the dips in his dimpled cheeks as he smiled softly yet widely. You knew what that look was, he was in love, and conveniently; so were you.

“Truce?” You whispered, holding out the little daisy you had plucked from the grass earlier and offering it to Peter, whose smile never dimmed as he nodded in agreement.

You shimmied closer, pressed a small kiss to his nose before tucking the flower behind his ear. The image of him so in love with a daisy poking out from behind his ear was the purest, sweetest thing you’d ever seen and it caused your smile to nearly split your cheeks.

“You look perfect right now.” You voiced your thoughts quietly as to not disturb the moment.

Wordlessly, he placed his hands on your hips and tugged you into him so that your chest was flush against his. He kissed you softly, his lips moved meaningfully with yours, pouring all of his emotions into the kiss before he pulled away reluctantly.

He rested his forehead on yours and let the words he was thinking slip from his lips, his smile back and wider than it had been before your lips connected, “You’re perfect all the time.”

Peter watched in concern as you seemed to zone out for a second, a thoughtful look on your face. It only lasted a few seconds, though.

As quickly as it had gone, the fog returned and the memory slipped away as if it were never there to begin with, leaving only a feeling of warmth behind. With a gentle shake of your head, you zoned back in on Peter.

His heart skipped a beat at the smile that stretched across your lips. It was dazzling, no that wasn’t it, it was perfect.

He watched mesmerised as you shrugged your shoulders and spoke through a grin, “Not sure. It just reminded me of you… for some reason.”

Maybe, you’d been right to say you’d known him before. There was something so vividly sentimental to you about the boy that had you convinced that; yes, perhaps you had been met with his adoring smile before- in another life.

#peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #peter maximoff imagine #wandavision x reader #wandavision spoilers #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader

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stopeatingwhales · 3 years ago

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the 1995 brits x damon albarn & liam gallagher

hhhiiii I'm here with a very cute little fic about the brits!! the idea of writing something with Damon and liam fighting over someone was requested quite a long time ago (sorry it’s taken so long omg) but I loved the idea!! I do hope you all enjoy it as I enjoyed writing it a lot hahah xx

Pairing: 90s damon albarn & 90s liam gallagher x reader

Warnings: nothing, just a little bit of bickering n dat

Word count: 3.057

Requested by anon x

༉‧₊˚✧

Being a part of the madness that adapted the name ‘Britpop’ was truly an experience. Paparazzi at every corner you turn, equipped with the brightest, flashiest cameras, also having the most annoying click noises to the point that after one image you’ve earned yourself a migraine that would last the entirety of the day; parties that would last entire nights, bearing millions of different kinds of drugs - some that hadn’t even been given a name yet, but you’d still give a try anyways, since you’re so high and drunk that you simply lose the intellectual capability to construct decisions, you say fuck it, and get so high to the point that you’ve blacked out in a booth in a bar, with the owner asking you to get out since you’ve been inside for one too many hours after closing time; as well as constant press coverage. With your name plastered over literally every newspaper and music magazine known to man, as well as having your entire life consistently dictated for the entire nation to read about every Sunday morning and indulge themselves into as a form of entertainment, it was what being famous delivered, right on your doorstep at 7 in the morning. Any earlier and you’d feel rude not to give them a cup of tea as a form of dignity and respect towards their sublime dedication to the job. Although it was fun being associated with it all, my band in particular gaining a different form of calidity due to it being a female fronted band, by the time that the entire nation was hooked on this ‘Blur vs. Oasis’ rivalry, it was as if every other britpop band had been washed away from existence, due to eight boys arguing as to whom had the better music. And the better looks, according to Liam Gallagher.

Tonight was the night of the Brit awards, perhaps the most prestigious awards ceremony for music. To be awarded a Brit was probably the largest achievement possible in British music in the form of an award, and it was definitely either going tonight to either Blur or Oasis. The chances that another band, say Pulp, were to get the award, would not only be extremely amusing to see the reactions of the two biggest names in the Britpop game, but would also cause the largest uproar in the nation. It’s either Blur or Oasis. “Their drama is so silly,” laughed Emily, the guitarist in our band whilst flicking through the latest edition of the Sun, the cover of the newspaper being, of course, Liam Gallagher. “They’re literally bickering about who looks the best. How do people find this interesting?”

“Because of how silly it is, people never leave their secondary-school-like selves. Just a bit of fun I guess.” I replied, fixing up my hair in the mirror in front of me. We were currently getting ready to go to the award show, and needing to look your best was an expectation. Though I wasn’t dressed in anything that would result in jaw’s dropping, it was important that I at least appeared somewhat admirable - the entire nation always had their eyes on us, but tonight they were going to see us all, live. Perhaps the reason why bands like Oasis and Blur are so obsessed over nowadays, since all they’ll do is turn up in some flimsy Adidas t-shirt and call that fashion. I suppose scruffy was the new elegant.

“Who do you think they’ll give the award to?” she questioned, still aimlessly flicking through the recycled pages of the magazine. “I think Oasis. Their music is so much better than Blurs.”

“Really? I’d say Blur. They won on top of the pops, so the likelihood of them winning the Brit award is highly likely,” I answered, shuffling away from the strong reflection of myself towards Emily, my eyes quickly scanning the page that she had her eye on currently. “Gosh Liam’s so full of himself.”

“He’s got his eye on you, you know,” She said, shoving the paragraph she had just read in my face of Liam boasting about his little crush he had supposedly gained from watching our latest performance on top of the pops. “Thinks you’re ‘well fit’.”

Scoffing in response, I mumbled back to Emily. “If he thinks that he’s sleeping with me, he’s very deluded.”

By the time we had arrived at the venue, you weren’t able to walk into the entrance without at least 50 cameras blinding your eyes and the shouts of so many begging for you to quickly turn your head and grin - the price for the photo would reach the many thousands. Once walking in, it was less crowded, only having select people by the ground floor, dedicated for musicians and bands, with the occasional interviewer walking past to every circled table, adorned with white cloth and champagne glasses, asking questions about how they’re feeling, who they think may win, and what they thought of the music throughout the past year. What was nice was that people didn’t have that much interaction with one another, just with their groups. It created a sense of formality in the space, which made me feel a bit at ease from the idea of some random row happening in the middle of the floor, most likely between Liam and Damon. The past year in music was truly something. Britpop was at its peak the entirety of the year, with songs like Parklife and Supersonic pouring out of every radio station in Britain that by the end of the year, you had ditched casual radio music and began blasting the classical station. It was a nightmare. Since the fall of grunge subsequent to Cobain’s death the previous year, the talk of any other genre in Britain apart from Britpop didn’t occur. It was as if we were living on this mystical island, miles away from any other music and culture, whilst adorning and obsessing over our own. What was nice about Britpop was that it was a pure celebration of English culture, whether it be a simple Sunday roast, or going to school, they all carried the same ambience of nostalgia and pride - also disregarding whichever band wrote what song.

“Free champagne… Yes please,” said Madeline, the secondary guitarist of the band, whilst heading to the first seat she could sit on, then quickly indulging herself with the first taste of the rich drink. “Oh my gosh it’s heavenly!”

Laughing at her reaction, the rest of the band took a seat around the table and took their first sips of the champagne, which we would all come to find to be indeed heavenly. Small talk was shared here and there with the rest of the group, but overall I stayed silent. In all honesty I found attending award shows was quite boring because if you didn’t end up getting an award, you would essentially be sitting there for two hours doing nothing. Even if you did win an award, it’s simply a minute of glory with the speakers blasting your music, and another minute of all eyes piercing into your soul as you make sentences about your gratitude towards those who had helped you along the way to earn such an achievement. I doubt anybody genuinely liked attending shows like these.

“The champagne is good, yet we don’t get enough for our table,” I complained, grasping my now empty champagne glass and waving it around in the air. “I’m gonna head to the bar to get a refill, anybody want anything?”

After receiving a handful of nos from the rest of the band, I took myself out of my seat and wandered over to the bar, which was empty, perhaps due to the venue not yet being completely filled with all the artists that were set to attend the night. “Just a refill of the champagne, please.” I asked politely, handing the bartender the used glass I had kept in my hand. Whilst waiting, I noticed that Damon was on the other side of the bar, who also didn’t notice me there, until he caught eyes with me.

A grin broke out on his face as I walked over to him. “You alright?” He asked me, quickly thanking the bartender for his drink and turning back to look at me. The height difference between us was evident, but it wasn’t the case of something so dramatic that he was the height of the empire state building and me, just a measly common tower in the city. He looked quite content, his hair scruffy yet neat, along with his outfit being just as I had assumed: a white shirt with jeans, a used pair of Adidas for shoes.

I smiled back at him and nodded. “Suppose you have high hopes for the award tonight.” I said, simultaneously receiving my refill of the beverage I had ordered, followed by my thanks. We stood adjacent, although there was enough distance between us to establish our relationship - mutual acquaintances whom had met every now and again, since they’ve both been dragged into this wormhole of madness. He was quite the opposite in comparison to his rivals, though he himself could be quite bothersome occasionally, he still had a grasp to what those may call sensibility.

“Oh well we’re better than them, aren’t we love?'' He chirped, his head now cocked to the side in a teasing manner. “I’ve heard that you’re rooting for us this year.” He added, a little smirk pasted on his face.

“Do you read every paper you see?” I questioned, my face turning away from him in slight embarrassment. Between us, there was no shared intention for a relationship to stem, though there was definitely a flirtatious tension that followed between us wherever we had met. Whether it be a random photoshoot for a magazine double-spread, or backstage at top of the pops, we always managed to share a chat with one another, and nothing else followed on from then. It was quite sad, because once you’ve established a connection between something you either both disagree or agree with in terms of societal views, something in the press, or life in general, you’re instantaneously cut off and asked to hop onto stage to record a meaningless three-minute performance with fake, plastic instruments which practically mean nothing.

“Well it was nice seeing someone else's face on the papers for once.” He replied, downing his drink, then ushering at the bartender for another. A thing that we both realised was that, between our conversations, we indirectly indicated that we were both there for each other, because we both had a complete understanding towards what may be happening to the other person. It was stressful being in the limelight constantly, and for someone who was the frontman of a band so large, with his face plastered on every magazine cover imaginable, things were bound to be stressful.

Sighing, I turned to face him again. Despite the fact that before I had the ability to respond, our conversation was cut short from a voice shouting my name from behind. “Well if it isn’t bloody Y/N.” the voice said, and from then I instantly knew it was Liam’s. Turning my face away from Damon’s, I locked eyes with Liam. As always, he was dressed in the usual: a parka, with casual jeans. Oh, and don’t forget the Adidas shoes. Even though he and Damon practically hated each other’s guts, they always seemed to have similar fashion senses, but I could never picture Damon in a parka. And I don’t think I even want to.

“How’ve you been love?” He asked, swinging his arm around my shoulder in a warm, but nonchalant manner. Me and Liam had a similar relationship to that of mine and Damons, simply just minusing the sentimentality of it. We were friends, and had come across each other at random parties, which opened the gateway for us to drink and get high together many a time. While he was quite the idiot, he was also a very fun guy to be around, but I knew Damon would never understand that. “And why’re you letting this twat chat to you?”

A laugh escaped Damon’s throat. “I think you’re the only twat here, Liam,” he began, a sigh leaving my mouth as I was trapped in a situation that I could only pray didn’t gain much traction from the rest of the attendees. “Me and Y/N are friends, don’t suppose we’re getting jealous are we?”

Liam’s grip on my shoulder tightened as I stared at his reaction to Damon. I felt quite small in this situation, due to me needing to tilt my head a good amount to properly look at Liam, and knowing if I left it would just erupt chaos and make it worse. “No need for me to be jealous when I know that she wouldn’t want to spend a minute with you in bed you bastard.”

“And you’re so sure about that are you?” Damon replied, amusement laced in his words. “Because you’ve totally spent a minute with her haven’t you?”

“Well I’ve got my arm around her haven’t I? And she’s not stopping me,” Liam argued back, a smirk entwined on his lips. Reaching for my hand, Liam grasped it lightly, then then brought it to his lips, kissing it, before holding it gently. Method of intimidation, perhaps, and though it was sweet, there was a time and place. And this was definitely neither the time, or place. “Who’s the jealous one now, eh?”

“The last I recall, she had hoped that we were winning this year, not you,” He boasted, moving the contents of his drink around whilst grasping it firmly. Whilst it would be something that would offend Liam, he was simply the type of person to not take criticism regardless of whomever it was coming from. I respected him for that. “So much so for a healthy relationship.” Damon mocked, staring into my eyes as a small laugh escaped my lips.

Granted that I had found the argument shared between the pair of them to be extremely silly, it was good entertainment as the time passed before the award show would begin. Watching them both, attempting to throw insults at one another, each one trying to cut a little deeper than the one previous, made me almost laugh at the both of them right there. “You know, it’s so silly that you both think you know me so well to think which one I’d pick from the both of you,” I said, detaching myself from Liam’s embrace and snatching my half-empty glass of champagne. “At this point, it’s neither of you.”

Walking back to my band’s designated table, I quietly took my seat as the show began. “Saw you chatting to Damon,” Emily whispered, raising her eyebrows. “Also saw you grinning like a madwoman.”

“Oh shut up you,” I replied, looking back at the bar to notice that both parties had left, assuming back to their places. “There’s nothing going on between me and Damon- Liam too in fact.”

~~~

As the ceremony went on, the boredom got to us. Even the amount of drinks I had didn’t entertain me, but what could we do, we were stuck in the middle of an award show celebrating music, even though I had largely doubted that the majority of those attending were enjoying themselves. I had no clue who the awards were going to be handed out to, and whether that somebody may be us in a category, but we all knew Blur were going to win something. Yes, Oasis had gained a lot of fame and had become one of the most famous bands in the music scene at the minute, but by the way things had gone for Blur after the release of Parklife, things only seemed to go further up from there. And that was only proven to be truthful, after Blur had left with four different awards.

After Blur had received their fourth award for best British group, we all knew that there was nothing left for Oasis. “They’ll get it all next year, they only debuted this year you know.” I said to the table, who were staring at the four smiley boys on stage as they trotted up to receive their award. I admired Damon as he said his speech, then also turning to look over at Liam, who looked quite evidently pissed off. He was practically drooling in anger from the sight brought to him at that particular moment, and I couldn’t blame him - their band hadn't gone home with one award that night, but neither had ours. “They’ve taken four awards home, isn’t that like, the most anybody has ever taken?”

“Indeed it is,” Madeline replied, taking a sip from her drink. “Must be a good year for them then, eh?”

As I watched the band leave the stage in absolute glee, I stared at Damon as he walked back to his designated seat for the short remainder of the evening. Despite the fact that my band had been sat in our seats the entire evening in complete boredom, just like Oasis and so many other acts that had been nominated for pointless awards, it would be a lie to say that I wasn’t proud of how far Blur as a whole had come and evolved through their music, and especially Damon. From beginning as young, bowl-cut boys only charting so far on top of the pops, to creating songs and melodies that could unite our entire nation, it was impressive.

Damon was the face of Britain at this very moment, and a very good looking one. Once I watched him sit down, he scanned the room for a while until he was able to find where I was sitting, which was parallel to his seat, merely a couple metres away. He connected eyes with me as soon as he found me, also accompanied with a small smirk painted on his expression as he raised his eyebrows and sent me a wink. I simply smiled back at him in response before turning away abruptly, disrupting the little moment we seemingly shared, and though I felt my heart flutter a little, he’s definitely not winning me that easily.

#britpop #fanfic #bandimagines #Liam Gallagher x reader #damon albarn x reader #damon albarn #blur #Liam Gallagher #oasis #blur band #oasis band #my writing #fluff #angst

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roscgcld · 4 years ago

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NANAMI KENTO + GOJO SATORU || the one that got away

request: i'm literally in love with your fics- i was wondering if you could write a Nanami x reader x Gojo where Nanami and the reader were dating before he left Jujutsu Tech, but they break up when he leaves. When he comes back he realizes he's still in love with the reader but she's engaged to Gojo and there's just a bunch of angst and tension. Sorry ik that's a lot :') But ty!!

note: lowkey thought you wanted a nanami x reader x gojo and i was like ‘oh babes am so ready-’ until i rer-read your request lmao! but honestly this was a lot of fun to write. tbh, if i was reader I would choose nanami cause rn am a whole ass SIMP for the man that is nanmi kento cx but i hope i managed to capture what you wanted in this request babes!

pronouns: she/her

“Maybe we should take a break.”

Those six words were engrained into the mind of Nanami Kento for the rest of his life. Those six words were the words that tossed his world upside down - and every time those words came into mind, the imagine of your crying face comes with it.

You were so distraught, yet you put up a brave front as you gave him a shaky smile - something that he loves so much about you. That even though his explanation as to why you two should break up was childish, selfish even; you still go the extra mile to make sure that he knows you understand. That you understand why he wants to take a break so that he can focus on himself and his career.

“I understand, Nami...just know I love you, okay?”

Your simple words, coupled with your tearful eyes and watery smile made him want to take back the words as soon as possible. That he wants to just turn back time and just admit to himself that he was going to regret his decision. But at the same time, he doesn’t want to. If he did go back in time and stopped, he might end up breaking your heart again; if not with more bitterness and anger.

When he was young, he hated that he was a jujutsu sorcerer - hated how he has this responsibility over him that he never asked for. He just wanted to be free from the jujutsu world and never look back. You were different - you were so proud that you were a jujutsu sorcerer, always a beacon of light in the dark reality that is being a sorcerer. Somehow you made it bearable for him, and at one point he thought he can do it for the rest of his life. Until after the death of Haibara Yu, a classmate that the both of you call a dear friend.

It was at that moment that he snapped, and he knew he didn’t want to do this anymore.

Yet he couldn’t force himself to drag you away from something you love so dearly, something you see as your duty to protect. He knew that either way he was going to be selfish, and either way tears were going to be shed; so he chose the one that would hurt the least. However, now years down the line, he still thinks that maybe things could have worked out. There was no denying that he still loves you - even though he keeps in touch with his senior, Gojo Satoru, from time to time, he doesn’t ask about you.

From what he knows, you stayed back in Jujutsu Tech and became a teacher, but that is all he knows about you. He was too scared, too embarrassed to face you once more - because he knows better then to dream. Dream that the promise you promised to keep as teens was going to hold up now that the both of you were in your late twenties.

But there is no harm in dreaming, right?

Nanami checked his watch as he got off the train, making his way towards the bus station located right outside of the building. It was his first time back at the college after being away from it for a few years, since he had called Gojo the other day on asking about if there is an opening for him to return as a sorcerer.

Even though Gojo can be a huge pain in the ass to deal with, Nanami knew that if there was anyone who can confirm a space for him at work, it will be Gojo Satoru.

Walking out of the crowded station, he looked up just in time to see the white haired shaman waiting for him at the entrance; who grinned and waved when he saw his junior. “Nanami! I knew you were not going to be late.” Gojo called out to the man dressed in a fresh grey suit and blue shirt underneath; his spotted tie knotted around his neck. The bespectacled man just sighs tiredly and made his way towards his overly excited senior, scowling when the taller male draped an arm around his shoulders.

He opened his mouth to say something when he noticed the ring that was resting on Gojo’s left ring finger, causing him to raise a curious eyebrow as he allowed the older male to lead him along. “You got married?” He asks the taller male, who glances at his hand before he grins and shakes his head, flexing his hand a little to show off the simple band around his ring finger. “Nah, we just got engaged. We are planning for the wedding though.” He stated simple, to which Nanami glances over at his senior in surprise. “What? Thought that I was too good to be married off?”

“No, I am surprised that you somehow managed to find someone willing to chain themselves down with you.”

“How mean!” Gojo gasps before he shakes his head in amusement, playfully squeezing his junior who just scowls lightly. “For your information, we’ve been dating for the last 4 years. And we have both talked about marriage before, so I wasn’t blindly shooting into the dark when I proposed.” Gojo commented as the two of them made their way towards the taxi stand, where Ijichi greeted his two seniors with a soft bow; all three men getting into the car. “Still surprised they said yes.”

Gojo just pouts and whines at his junior, who just listened to him with his deadpan expression the entire way to the college. He was surprised that Gojo managed to come on time to pick him up, since he had expected for him to be late, and for him to have either taken the bus or hailed a taxi on his own. But he didn’t really mind; he’s used to handling Gojo’s childish personality, and he gets a free ride at the same time. So he doesn’t mind the brief ride with Gojo.

Soon they arrived at the wooded area where the college is located on, getting out of the car once Ijichi stops the car. Quietly Nanami got out of the car and squints his eyes a little at the sunlight that shone down on him, his eyes slowly focusing on the grand temple-like compound that is Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College. “Feels weird to be back?”

“A bit.” Nanami admitted to Gojo when he walked from the other side of the car to Nanami’s side, the man just chuckling before he gestures for him made his way through the gates and into the campus, immediately being hit with all the nostalgia of being a student once more. It felt like a light weight was being lifted off his shoulders as he soaks everything in, like the guilt of him leaving his duties as a sorcerer behind has been lifted.

The two men made their way deeper into the college just as someone called out to Gojo from behind, causing both men to pause as they turned to look back. Immediately Nanami felt his heart skip a beat when his eyes finally settled onto you, a warm smile gracing your features as you made your way towards the both of them. Nanami was so stuffed that he didn’t catch the way Gojo grins and opens his arms for you, watching the two of you embrace one another as a sinking feeling when he saw the delighted grin on your face.

The same grin that you used to give him after not seeing you for awhile.

Somehow Nanami managed to keep up an indifferent façade as you embraced your fiancée, pressing a soft kiss against his cheek in greeting whilst Gojo just nuzzles closer to you; in an attempt to milk all of the attention he can from you. “How needy.” You giggled at him before you turned to the man beside your fiancé with the intension of greeting him; only to freeze up when you realise who it was. “K-Kento?”

“Nice to see you again, Y/N.” Nanami greeted in his usual indifferent tone, trying to hide his heartbroken eyes beneath the shadow of his sunglasses as he tilted his head ever so slightly. “I guess some congratulations are to be said.” He stated simply before he gestures to your left ring finger, where a simple yet beautiful engagement ring rested on your finger. For some reason your heart sank as you awkwardly hid your hand behind your back, causing Gojo to raise an eyebrow as he glances between the both of you.

Was there something going on between the two of you?

“O-Oh, thanks.” You mumble out awkwardly, knowing immediately that Nanami was no longer in his usual indifferent mood. You can feel the slight hurt in his voice, one that causes your heart to break a little; bringing you back to the day you two broke up. How you promised to keep loving him until he was ready to return - yet here you are now, engaged to another man. It wasn’t like you fell out of love with him, you still love Nanami with all your heart, but that love had started to shift the years you two spend apart. And somehow, you started to fall for the white haired shaman known as Gojo Satoru.

But that doesn’t mean you didn’t feel any guilt for how evil you might seem to your ex for stringing him along like that. “I wasn’t expected to see you here.”

“I decided to come back.” Nanami stated simply with a shrug, glancing over at your quiet fiancé who blinks at him owlishly back at him. “Plus, Gojo here told me about a student of his by the name Itadori Yuji that I am supposed to take under my wing.” He continued, giving Gojo the chance to jump in as he smiles down at you, squeezing your shoulders gently. “That’s right! Kento-kun here said he wanted to come back! So his first job is to supervise Yuji-kun.”

“Oh.” You replied in a small tone, unsure of how to answer at all. But luckily Nanami stepped in before the awkward silence can drag on for long, pulling the sleeve of his jacket off his watch to check the time. “I don’t want to get in the way of your free time now, Y/N-san. I am going to go and rest up in my room before dinner is served.” He stated simply before bowing at the both of you, not meeting your eyes. “Excuse me.”

With that he turned to walk away, forcing himself to not look back at you as he made his way down the familiar hallways towards the dorms; the keys to the room he is to stay at for the time being clutched in his hand after he slipped it into his pocket. What was I thinking? He thought to himself as he continued his way down the empty hallway to the dormitories. Did I really think an amazing woman like that will wait for me?

He sighed to himself as he shakes his head a little, slipping his polished dress shoes off his feet before putting them on one of the free cubbies built into the wall; grabbing a pair of the guest slippers before he puts them on. “At least she managed to get engaged to Gojo. He’s definitely worthy of her love.” He mutters to himself, reminding himself to be happy that you found happiness. He doesn’t blame you for finding love once more - when he left this life behind, he also left you.

No call, no text, no attempt to reach out. Was he expected you to just fall into his arms once more? Pretend that nothing happened, and to go back to where you two once were? That thought alone caused him to let out a soft snort as he made his way towards the locked room, unlocking it with his keys. “Don’t be foolish, Kento. Be happy that she’s happy.” He mutters to himself as he entered his new room, closing the door behind him with a tired sigh.

“Guess you really were the one that got away.”

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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

Text

Sweet Tooth

Corpse Husband x Asian Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Tooth-rotting (😉) Fluff, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Corpse isn’t one to have a big preference or craving for sweet, sugary treats. In fact, he’d even go as far as to say he’s not at all a fan of candy. Well, much to his yet to be known delight, his partner Y/N takes that as a personal challenge.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your lovely request! So sorry it’s taken me so long to write and post it but here it finally is and I hope you come across it and read it despite the long time that’s passed. If you do, I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

“Hey guys! Welcome back to my channel!“ Y/N gives the camera a wave and blows it a quick kiss with their lips stretched in a delighted grin. They clap their hands together, turning to look at their guest who’s sitting in a chair on their right, his face covered with a sticker in the final cut of the video that their viewers have the opportunity of watching. “Ok, before we address the elephant in the room, I’m gonna ask the elephant himself not to move his head too much cause this is already gonna take a long time to edit, the last thing I need is to animate that sticker over your face to follow your movement.“

“Got it, babe.“ A deep voice replies obediently, earning an approving hum in response. However, just as Y/N’s about to turn to face the camera again, the mysterious - ok, not THAT mysterious - guest leans down and plants a kiss on their cheek.

“Brat!“ They squeal as they turn to glare at the person with narrowed eyes. He doesn’t appear bothered at all, chuckling as he wraps his arms around them in an attempt to soften them up. Sadly, his tries fall through as they proceed to ignore his affection instead of reciprocating it for the sake of being petty, “Everyone, this is my boyfriend Corpse.“

“Hello, I am hand.“ Corpse says, slowly waving his hand at the camera, “I shall be your entertainment tonight.“

“Oh this is no entertainment, I have a point to prove here.“ Y/N argues, breaking free from his arms before they bend down to pick up one of the two boxes that are resting by their feet. “You see, Corpse and I got in a bit of a scrap last night...“ they trail off, distracted by the contents of the box that’s now resting on their lap.

“I didn’t think me admitting to not liking sweet stuff would provoke such a dramatic reaction from Y/N but here we are.“ He interferes, lifting a finger in the air as though that will help him be heard better or would protect him in case his partner decided to go off at him.

Y/N just ignores his input yet again, continuing to address the camera, aka their audience, “So as you guys may or may not know, my mom’s Korean and my dad’s Japanese. Since they live in their respective countries for work purposes, that means I’m always one phone call - and a little bit of a wait - away from Korean and Japanese snacks at all times. I’m a person who constantly has a snack by their side so you can bet I make that phone call often. However, about a week ago, I made that call specifically for candy, the brands I was obsessed with as a kid. I don’t know what came over me but I think it was my fortuneteller sense kicking in because this mister over here decided to CASUALLY bring up the fact that he doesn’t like candy.” They turn to glare at him before continuing, “Anyways, so luckily, the package arrived only recently so I haven’t had the time to tear open all the candy and eat it all by myself as I was planning to. That being said, today I’ll be in introducing Corpse to the world of Japanese and Korean candy - a tighter circle of it, to be specific: the candy I grew up with.” They finally turn to Corpse again, the look on their face significantly different and a lot more pleasant compared to the one they gave him a bit ago. “So, how are you feeling, babe? Are you excited?”

Although the man’s face is blocked to the viewers, Y/N can still see him and they are pretty damn close to bursting out in a fit of laughter. “I don’t know how to feel, actually. I know you have peculiar taste so it’s either gonna be a fun experience or I’m gonna very displeased with what you’ll have me try.“

Y/N rolls their eyes, “Trust me, you won’t be.” They put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, only half humoring his nervousness, “You’ll only be trying six on camera, but my parents sent a ton more which you’ll be able to try later, ok? It was really hard for me to pick only six favorites by I don’t need this video crossing the twenty minute mark.”

With a heavy-hearted sigh, Corpse finally brings himself to rip the band-aid off and get this adventure started. “Ok cool, but don’t surprise me with anything, please. Show me what you had in mind to have me try so I can, you know, prepare myself.”

Y/N, who was busy taking out packets of candy just a moment ago suddenly stops in their movements to give him a look of disbelief, “You know none of these are poisonous, right? Like, I’m not trying to kill you or anything. There’s no cyanide, no rat poison...”

His laughter cuts them off, wrapping his arm around them and pulling them closer again, “I’m messing with you, babe. What you got for me?” He says, placing a quick kiss to their temple while sneaking a peek at the packaging of the candies they’re holding right now.

Wiggling a little looser in his grip, they first show him the three items before turning them to the camera, “These are from my mom, she sent them from Korea and they are triggering a massive wave of nostalgia right now, not gonna lie.” They giggle, adjusting the brightness a little so the products can be seen properly, “Ok so first we have the long biscuit sticks that come in many flavors but I asked for my favorite - green tea flavored, that is. Then we have Pumpkin Monaca which are probably one of my most favorite sweet treats of all time. I think you’re gonna really like them. And lastly from Korea we have these butter waffles which I used to eat for breakfast when I was running late for school - which happened often.”

Corpse snorts, “That doesn’t surprise me.”

His remark is overlooked as Y/N continues, now taking out three packets from the other package, “Now we’re moving on to my dad’s box. He didn’t disappoint either: we have soda-flavored jelly beans; Black Thunder chocolate bars which you’re only gonna steal one of because the rest are MINE; and last but definitely not least we have some classic milk candies.” Setting those down as well, they turn to Corpse yet again, this time giving his a mischievous smile that’s promising him trouble, “So, Mr. Corpse Husband, after this introduction, are you prepared to have your entire opinion o sweet food changed? And more importantly, are you prepared to develop an addiction to these treats?”

Corpse nods confidently, “Oh, I’m very prepared, thank you. Let’s just get on with it.”

Needless to say: boy, was he not as prepared as he thought he was.

It goes without saying Y/N proved their point and took the win today.

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aizawaorkuroo · 4 years ago

Text

Seek the Light

Ship: Ukai Keishin x f!reader

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 8.4K

Summary: Back home after losing your job, you wander into a convenience store not realizing you would see a familiar face.

Warnings: Young Ukai’s a bitch, Language, Biting, Vaginal Fingering, Size Kink (I know this man has a bick dick I know he does), Overstimulation, Creampie, Unprotected Sex, Dom!Ukai

AN: first haikyuu fic haha and first time writing ukai so im still figuring it out! This one got away from me gsfda and the conflict resolved easily cause its my fic and i make the rules tgerfw

________________________

The dipping summer sun casts shadows across the buildings, while painting the clouds a pretty gold. Memories of childhood and youth flood into you, creating a fondness in your heart. Yes, Miyagi was nice. It would be nicer if you didn’t have to move back home after losing your job in Tokyo. You can tell yourself it’s temporary all you want, but it’s embarrassing. Failing is embarrassing.

You sigh, realizing you should probably head back home before it gets too dark. Despite the setting sun, the air has yet to cool off, and you find that your walk has left your throat parched. You glance around, smiling as you spot a convenience store. Nice.

You smile as the air conditioning hits your skin. You make a beeline for a bottled tea, already excited for the refreshing taste. You hum happily as your eyes tilt up to the man behind the register. His eyes are glued to an issue of something, and a cigarette dangles from his lips. Ukai Keishin.

You feel your heart stutter as you watch your best friend from high school read. His hair is long and blonde now, and it just makes sense. He’s handsome, you realize. You always thought he was cute in high school, but he’s a man now.

“No fucking way,” you breathe out, drawing the gaze of the man sitting behind the counter. His eyes widen, recognition clear as day in them.

“Y/N?” His voice is unusually quiet, and his eyes bore into yours, as if you would disappear again if he looked away. Guilt swells uncomfortably in your stomach. You hadn’t talked to him in years. You moved away, and you lost touch with your high school friends, including him. Especially him. He slowly stands to look at you, putting what he was reading down and shoving his cigarette into an ashtray.

Yes, you had been gone for awhile, and yes, the two of you hadn’t talked. But you were both here now, and a second chance has been given to you, wrapped up like a present in the form of a stunned employee at a convenience store.

“Ukai! I forgot this was your mom’s place!” you yell excitedly, rushing behind the counter to trap him in a tight hug. He huffs against you, tensing, before awkwardly wrapping his arms around you.

“What the hell are you doing here?” His words stir something hot and sticky in you, and you push away from him, sheepishly smiling.

“I lost my job and couldn’t find another one in time, and uh, here I am.” Your nose scrunches up at the thought of your tiny, Tokyo apartment that you would never return to.

“No shit, huh? Are you back with your parents?” Your shoulders sag and you nod, pursing your lips.

“Yea, but what have you been up to?” you ask, eager to learn more about your old friend.

“Y’know, working here, hanging out with Shimada and Takinoue. I’ve also been coaching Karasuno’s volleyball team. They’ll sometimes stop by.”

“Oh that’s absolutely perfect,” you laugh. “My volleyball boys never grew up, huh?” He rolls his eyes at you, crossing his arms in feigned annoyance. You hold your hands up in peace, trying to suppress the giggle that’s bubbling in your chest.

“Well, you clearly grew up,” you offer, letting your eyes trail over him. His eyes widen again, and a faint blush covers his cheeks, so soft you almost don’t notice it. “But you’re still reading the same shit.” He lightly punches your arm, and you stick your tongue out at him.

“Anyways, the four of us should get dinner sometime.” You cock your head to the side, trying to gauge his reaction. He snorts and rolls his eyes at you, but there’s a small smile on his face. That's promising, you muse to yourself.

“Yea, that sounds good. And I’m sure Shimada and Takinoue will say yes. I can text you when we’re able to.” He pauses, and his eyes drop to the ground. Your stomach twists into knots as he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. “Is your number still the same?” It’s an innocent question, and yet you feel like the floor has dropped from beneath you, leaving you unbalanced.

“Uh, yeah,” you murmur, feeling guilty when he nods and presses his lips into a thin line.

“It was good seeing you, Y/N. I’ll text you.” You nod, slowly backing up to the door. You give him a small wave before pushing the door open, stepping back out into the warm air. Your body moves on autopilot while your brain goes into overdrive as you ponder how you can properly mend the bridge between you two.

It’s only when you’re halfway home that you realize you forgot your tea.

________________________

When Ukai texts you, you can’t help but to cringe at the past messages that were left unanswered. Random little texts, asking about your day, how’s Tokyo, updating you on everyone back home. You had meant to answer them, but you just couldn’t. You could pinpoint the moment you stopped answering his messages, and you shudder, remembering how harsh he had sounded over the phone. Not that you had been any kinder. After that night, his texts trickled in slower and slower, until they ended completely.

You inhale sharply, closing your eyes. But you’re back now, and he’s texting you again. You blink your eyes open, rereading his message.

Hey! How does Saturday at 8 work?

Taking a shaky breath you quickly type out a response that you hope isn’t too eager.

That sounds great! Is that one place with the great hiyashi chuka place still open?

The four of you used to eat there in the summertime, feasting on cold ramen and an assortment of toppings. Takinoue used to flirt with the waitress, who remained unimpressed throughout the years. You smile fondly at the memory, excited to see everyone again. Your phone vibrates, pulling you from your thoughts.

Yea and it’s still the only hiyashi chuka place in town

You hum at his message, thinking of how long the four of you used to wait while the summer sun blazed down, and sometimes Kimi would go with you. She had a massive crush on Shimada, one that left her helpless to your and Takinoue’s teasing. Your phone buzzes again, and you look down, slightly surprised at the second message.

I’m excited to see you again.

That was promising indeed.

And yet you can’t help the way butterflies terrorize your stomach as you stand outside the old restaurant. Part of you wants to turn around and walk home; another part of you wants to throw up. You inhale sharply, steeling yourself, and you walk through the door.

It’s just like you remember, and you feel more at ease. You know this place, and these are your friends. There was no reason to worry. But still…

Your eyes flash across the room, before zeroing in on your usual table. You grin widely at Takinoue who is waving you down. Shimada sits next to him, smiling softly as you approach. Immediately, Takinoue gives you a bear hug, making you giggle.

“It’s been way too long,” he whines before letting you go. Shimada rolls his eyes, offering you a small wave. You slip into the empty seat next to Ukai, greeting him quietly. He nods, a small smirk tugging at his lips. The nerves that had been eating away at you dissipate immediately. The conversation flows easy, as if you never left. And when the hiyashi chuka is brought out, your mouth waters just like it used to.

“I’m telling you, it’s not as good anywhere else,” you bemoan. Shimada laughs at that, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“I think that’s nostalgia talking.” You stick your tongue out before shoveling noodles back into your mouth. Ukai snorts, before taking a sip of his beer. Something warm and soft builds up in your heart, spilling out into your entire body.

Happily full of noodles, you settle back against your chair, trying to ignore the way Ukai’s arm rests against the back of your chair. His touch is feather light, but the warmth seeps into you. You missed this, you missed this, you missed him.

When the four of you are standing outside, you shift on your feet, not wanting to have to say goodbye again.

“We should get drinks sometime,” you say to no one in particular. Takinoue slings an arm over your shoulder and his grin is so wide that alone almost makes you laugh.

“Ah yeah! Now you’re talking, Y/N!”

“That is something we can all do together now,” Ukai mumbles, fishing out a cigarette and a lighter from his pocket.

“Then it’s settled,” you chirp happily, “We’ll meet up for drinks next weekend, if that’s okay with you guys.” Ukai’s eyebrows pinch together in thought, and he slowly nods.

“That should work.” You pull away from Takinoue, choosing to wrap an arm around Ukai’s waist, and pulling yourself flush against him.

“Perfect! It’ll be nice to get out of the house before I move into my new apartment.” Ukai rolls his eyes, but drapes his arm across your shoulders anyways. You try not to notice the way his thumb lightly strokes your arm.

________________________

The lights in the bar are dim, and you’re sipping on a lemon sour, nestled into the booth next to Ukai. Beers litter the table, as well as small dishes of food, and some shots you all have yet to drink. Takinoue’s cackle barrels through the air as you offer up another idea.

“No, I’m serious! We could all get dinner! I’m sure my parents would be happy to see you guys again.” Ukai scoffs, crossing his arms and fixing you with a pointed look.

“Please, your parents hate us,” he grumbles. A laugh bubbles through you, and you shake your head.

“They did not!” you promise, but your words sound hollow even to yourself.

Takinoue’s eyebrow quirks up in disbelief. Your lips twist into a grimace, memories of your parents looking tired whenever the boys dropped you off at home. “Okay, maybe they did, but ONLY when my grades would start slipping.” Shimada nods at your words.

“Yea, that sounds right,” he says solemnly. You pout at his calm and unsurprised tone.

“I promise they loved you guys. Just like I know your granddad loved me,” you giggle, poking at Ukai’s side. He rolls his eyes, and he downs his shot.

“Please, like that man likes anyone,” he grumbles. You stick your tongue out at him, and punch his arm lightly.

“Alright, but I got you through high school, so he has to like me” you counter, mouth twisting into a smirk. Ukai glares at you, memories of late night study sessions, and rushed homework help before class flood his mind. His shoulders sag, and he lets out a sigh.

“That’s fair I guess. Gotta piss. I’ll be back.” He pushes out of the booth, leaving you with Takinoue and Shimada. Shimada smiles softly, before fixing his gaze on you.

“Kimi was in Tokyo too, right? Have you seen her at all?” he asks. You grin, taking a sip of your drink.

“Yea, we actually got lunch the day before I moved.” You pause, eyeing him carefully before continuing. “Shimada, did you know she had the biggest crush on you in high school?” He blushes a bright crimson, choking on his drink as Takinoue cackles.

“Yea, dumbass. It was obvious.” Shimada glares at him, nursing his beer.

“Well, I clearly didn’t know. And no one thought to tell me?” You shrugged, shooting him an apologetic smile. Takinoue punches him arm affectionately, before his eyes settle on you, full of humor and mirth.

“Speaking of crushes, I was wondering how Ukai would be since you got back,” Takinoue laughs.

“What?” Despite the drinks you’ve had, you feel sober, something cold slinking down your back.

“He was head over heels for you back in the day,” Takinoue’s laughs die down, but he doesn’t seem to notice the way you freeze. Shimada, on the other hand, does, and he cocks his head to the side, monitoring your response.

You sputter, words locked in your throat. What they hopefully don’t know is that you had a massive crush on him too, and it’s only resurfaced violently since seeing him again. Even after what had happened. And yet that cold feeling heats up into something syrupy in the pit of your stomach.

“Well that’s news to me,” you say softly. “Guess I fucked it all up, huh?” Shimada and Takinoue exchange a glance, and you’re sure one of them is gonna say something, but when Ukai slips back into the booth that door shuts, locking their words on the other side.

“What’d you fuck up?” he asks, taking a swig of the beer he had left on the table.

“Ah you know, the usual. My life in Tokyo. And now I’m back with my parents. I did find a job though.” Shimada’s brows furrow, but he says nothing. Ukai hums, his thigh jostling against yours.

“Aren't you at your new place yet?” Your face twists in annoyance, and your head hits the back of the booth.

“I’m gonna have to stay with my parents for a few more days because a pipe apparently burst in my apartment. But I’m going to lose it. I can’t live with them anymore. Not at my age…” you trail off, lost in your thoughts.

“Stay with me. Until you can move in.”

Ukai’s voice cuts through the noisy bar, and you open your mouth stupidly, no words coming out. He stares back at you, making the butterflies that had been dormant for awhile snap back to life inside of you. He scratches at the side of his face, making pathetic attempts to backtrack. “I mean you don’t have to, and I won’t be there for a bit cause of training camp-”

“No, that sounds good.” You nod at him, an easy smile spreading across your face. “Yea, that sounds good.” His eyes lock onto yours, something dark and undefinable in them. Neither of you notice the coy look Shimada and Takinoue share.

________________________

The hot water streams around you, and you shut your eyes, relishing the way it feels on your skin. You had a long day at your new job, and the approaching weekend was the only thing keeping you going. Well, that and the fact that you were currently in Ukai’s shower.

He had been kind enough to offer you a place to stay, and already your thoughts are starting to drift to darker places. You had harbored a crush on him when you were younger, but you haven’t seen him in years. And yet the way he looked at you made your stomach drop.

You turn the water off, the cold air plucking at your skin and making you shiver. You wrap a towel around yourself, and dry off quickly, trying to forget about the ache in between your legs. It doesn’t work, but you pull on a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt anyways. You could at least pretend it worked.

Ukai’s apartment was exactly what you expected. The walls were littered with posters, books lay all over the ground, and there was a volleyball by the TV. He had rubbed the back of his neck, almost embarrassed when you first got there.

“It’s, uh, not much. Probably should’ve thought about that before I offered, but make yourself at home,” he mutters.

You had reassured him it was more than enough. You were just grateful to be out of your parents' house. You pad over to his spot near the tv, kneeling next to him. He eyes you from his peripheral, not looking directly at you. Nonetheless, it makes you shiver.

“Where should I sleep?” you ask, playing with the hem of his shirt. He nods his head back to the bed, and you flush.

“I can’t take your bed,” you sputter, stomach flipping. He rolls his eyes, a sharp smirk pulling at his lips.

“I gotta leave in the middle of the fucking night for training camp, remember? Take the bed.” His tone leaves no room for any argument, and you nod shyly, before shuffling over to his bed. He refocuses on the game he was watching as you pull the covers around you.

But you can’t sleep. Not when Ukai is so close to you. You flip onto your stomach and huff. He glances at you from over his shoulder and rolls his eyes. He shifts to the side, allowing you to watch the game from your vantage point.

You recognize the Karasuno uniforms, and something syrupy and nostalgic floods your veins. This must be the new team. The two of you stay quiet, the two of you lost in your own thoughts.

It’s only when the noise from the TV stops that you’re jolted back to reality. Ukai’s hand grips the remote tightly, face screwed up unpleasantly.

“Why did you stop talking to me?”

The words ring around his apartment, crystalizing into the air, becoming frigid and uncomfortable. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting your head rest against his pillow. When you open them again, he’s turned towards you, brows pinched and mouth twisted into a grimace.

“I didn’t-” you cut yourself off, pushing yourself up to your knees. “I didn’t mean to.” You hold a hand up to him, stopping his oncoming argument. “I wanted to, and I wanted to pretend like everything was okay, but how could I?” His frown deepens, but he stays silent, memories seeping uncomfortably into the air.

“Keishin,” you hissed into the phone. “Let it go.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? How could you be so stupid?” Your stomach drops at his words, but more than anything, you’re upset.

“I am not the stupid one. I’m the one who made it out of Miyagi. I’m the one who’s going to college.” You hear him inhale sharply, and you can practically imagine the way his eyes are narrowed right now.

“Right, right, right. And you’re also the one who’s sleeping with some asshole, who is way too old for you, and he’s just gonna forget you once he’s bored! If that’s not what a stupid little girl does, you tell me what it is! I’m trying to watch out for you!” he practically yells. You feel the oncoming tears sting the back of your eyes, but there’s something red-hot pushing you forward.

“Fuck you, Ukai. I actually found someone who likes me for once, you have to ruin it. I’m not a kid. You don’t know shit about my life here, and you hate it. If you cared so much, you could’ve asked me to stay. Fuck you.” He swears angrily at you, before the line drops. You stare at your phone, waves of nausea passing over you.

A week later he sends you a text, complaining about his grandfather, and telling you about something stupid Takinoue did. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. His texts eventually slowed down, until he didn’t text you at all.

You shudder slightly at the memory, letting your eyes drop to the floor.

“You acted like nothing had happened, but I was still mad, and by the time I had calmed down, I thought you would hate me for not talking to you.” You wrap your arms around yourself, chewing on your lip. “And you were right by the way, about that guy,” you spit out. “The second someone prettier came along, he dropped me.”

When you flick your eyes up, Ukai’s jaw is tense, his brows furrowed. You dig your nails into your arm, inhaling sharply.

“Fuck, I wish I had been wrong,” he seethes. Your eyes widen, not expecting him to say that. In all honesty, you weren’t sure what you had expected him to say. “You deserve the world, Y/N. More than that piece of shit. More than Miyagi.” His words are colored with bitterness that makes your stomach curdle.

“That’s why I could never ask you to stay. You were supposed to get out of here.” Ukai’s gaze bores into you, the intensity of it giving you whiplash. Your heart melts at his words, and you can’t help but to feel regret for not trying to work things out back in the day.

“And I ended up back here anyways,” you mutter.

“Well, Miyagi has some perks,” he laughs, an easy smirk tugging at his mouth. You cock your head to the side, snorting in disbelief.

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“It’s got you now,” Ukai says lazily, while stretching his arms above his head.

Your heart swells in your chest, and you lunge towards him, wrapping your arms around him. He’s tense beneath you, but relaxes under your soft touches.

“I missed you, Kei,” you say gently. His arms drop to hold you to him, eyes closing as he basks in your attention.

“I’m sorry for what happened, and I’m sorry I tried to pretend like nothing happened. I’m pissed that you weren’t in my life, but that was my fault. And now that you’re here...don’t think you’re escaping that easy again.” You nod, and something hot stings the back of your eyes.

“I’m not,” you say gently. “I’m not gonna disappear again. I promise. You’re my best friend, Keishin. I missed you.”

“Okay. Now get some sleep.” His arms loosen around you, and you slump away from him. As you shift back into the bed, Ukai faces the TV, playing it and lowering the volume until it’s just white noise to your sleepy mind. With that, you lie down again, letting your eyes shut and the warmth of sleep overtake you.

Ukai is drawn back into the game, but your words linger in the air. You’re my best friend, Keishin. I missed you. He glances back at you, bitterness eating away at his stomach. He wants to be more than just your best friend.

He fixes his gaze on the TV, trying to shove those thoughts somewhere deep and dark. Eventually, when he looks at the time, he scowls realizing he’s gotta head out now. Letting out a sigh, he turns to face you again.

His heart tugs at how you’re curled up in his bed so sweetly. Guilt settles in his stomach at the thought of waking you at this hour, but he had to make sure you would be okay. His hand hovers above your shoulder, and he watches the steady rise and fall of your chest. You belong here. With him. He shakes his head, banishing the thought. Ukai gently shakes you, watching as you rub your eyes and blink sluggishly at him.

“Sorry to wake you, but I’m heading out for the camp now. The keys are on the counter. Stay as long as you need to, just make sure to lock up.” You hum at his words, nestling back into his pillow and shutting your eyes.

“Okay, Keishin. Love you. Have fun,” you murmur, before drifting back to sleep. He inhales sharply, eyes boring into your sleeping face. He scoffs to himself, shaking his head. You probably wouldn’t even remember you said that when you woke up. And yet…

Ukai shifts on his knees closer to your sleeping form. He ducks down, letting his lips hover over your forehead. He gently kisses your temple, while simultaneously trying to squash the warm feelings that flow through him. He pulls away quickly, the small peck only lasting a second or two, but his lips burn now, and all he wants to do is curl around you and hold you in his arms.

The thought rushes through him like cold water, and he straightens away from you, trying to ignore the way his heart thuds. Ukai’s lips twist into a frown, and he rises, grabbing his bag and quietly walking out the door.

________________________

The next few days are quiet as you go to work. It feels weird to stay at Ukai’s by yourself, but you have to admit that a weight has been lifted since the first night. It was like you could finally move forward in your friendship, the guilt evaporating and letting you fall back into a normal crush.

The evening you’re able to move into your apartment, it’s windier than you thought it would be. You didn’t mean to steal one of his hoodies, but you know he has a few pairs of the orange one. You had seen them in his closet. You slip the orange hoodie on, clutching the fabric to you. It’s warm, enough to protect you from the unusually powerful wind. You shut your eyes and take a deep breath; it smells like him. The thought makes you shudder.

You keep the hoodie on, promising to leave it in Ukai's apartment when you make your last trip in between. But when the moment comes, you can’t bring yourself to take the garment off. When you slip into bed in an unfamiliar place that night, his hoodie brings you comfort. As your eyes shut, you promised that you would return it the next day, when he texted you for his key.

Except you didn’t. You held onto his hoodie for two weeks. By the time you return it, it has already stopped smelling like him. And now, Ukai’s blinking at you from the doorframe of his apartment, confusion pulling at his eyebrows.

His hair is wet, hanging limply against his head, his normal headband nowhere to be seen. A towel hangs around his neck, and there’s an unlit cigarette in between his lips. You blink up at him blankly, trying to resist the urge to run your fingers through his hair.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” He cocks his head to the side, eyes trailing over your face curiously.

“I, um, came to drop this off.” You hold his hoodie to your chest, clutching it tightly in your hands. “But I probably should’ve told you I was coming.” His gaze is glued to the garment your holding, and the silence hangs in between you. Ukai flicks his eyes back to yours, something deep and dark brewing in them. You shift nervously under his gaze, opening your mouth as you hesitantly explain yourself.

“I borrowed it. When I was staying here. Just took me a while to drop it back off,” you mumble, feeling embarrassed.

“Keep it.” His voice is warm and steady in the air, making your spine tingle. Your hands drop from your chest, hoodie still clenched tightly.

“Oh. Okay.” Your mouth feels heavy, the words sticking to your tongue like molasses. “I guess I’ll head home. Thanks.” You start to turn away, when his hand shoots out, latching onto your wrist.

“You just got here.” His touch stings you, burning into your skin in a way that makes you crave more. You slowly, and weakly, you nod at him, letting him guide you inside his apartment.

“So you borrowed my hoodie, huh?” He smirks at you, eyes gleaming at the way you nervously sit at the edge of his futon.

“Yea, I was running out the door and it was colder than I thought, so I just grabbed it.” Your hands grip the fabric tightly, before you put the hoodie on the bed next to you. Ukai cocks his head to the side, his sharp smirk never leaving his face. “But it took me a while to return because, well…” He flops down onto the ground in front of you, resting his chin in his hand.

“Because it smelled like you,” you mumble, feeling butterflies slip into your veins. Ukai’s eyes widen for a split second, and he plucks the unlit cigarette from his mouth, throwing it to the side.

“Huh, no shit.” His words are colored in disbelief, but his gaze is unwavering, sending a small shiver down your spine. He shifts forward, pushing into your personal space until his face is right in front of yours.

“If I’m reading this wrong, you gotta let me know.” The frail dam that had been holding your emotions in place splinters, leaving your mind reeling. But one thing was sure: it was impossible to deny how you felt.

“You’re not,” you manage to sputter out. “You’re not reading it wrong.” He hums in satisfaction, eyes trailing over your face.

Ukai surges forward, and his lips are warm and rough against yours, and he steals your breath away immediately. A hand gently holds your face to his, the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him. Tentatively, you twist your fingers into his hair, and he groans against you. He pulls away from your lips, leaving you chasing after him. He pants against you, eyes dark and unreadable.

“Been wanting to do this for years,” he mutters, looking at you intensely.

“What took you so long?” He rolls his eyes, leaving sharp kisses down your neck.

“Too scared that I would push you away, and I did that anyways.” You pout at his words, tugging him up by his hair.

“I’m not going away again, and there’s nothing you could do to make me” you murmur, leaning forward to kiss him. His tongue prods at your lips, and you open your mouth obediently, letting him explore. Ukai’s hands are warm on your waist, squeezing the flesh that’s there. He pulls you onto his lap, shifting his legs under you so you’re flush against him.

“You good?” you ask in between kisses, scratching his scalp. His hips rock against you, and he pulls back to smirk at you.

“I’m more than good, baby.” Grinning, you meet his mouth again, letting your hips grind against him. His warm hands wander up and down your body, setting your skin on fire. They rest on your waist under your shirt, and his fingers tap at the flesh there. You hum happily, before leaning away and pulling off your shirt and tossing it behind you. Ukai freezes, eyes hungrily taking in the newly exposed skin. You flush as his hands start to trail upwards, ghosting over your skin.

You dip forward to kiss him again, and his hands reach around to fumble with your bra. You smile against his lips as he struggles, but the second it’s off, his hands are kneading your breasts.

“What are you smiling about?” he mutters against your lips, before pinching one of your nipples. You pull back and inhale sharply, biting your lip before tugging at his shirt.

“Not fair that yours is still on, Keishin,” you whine. He rolls his eyes, and pushes you off of his lap, letting you fall against the futon. Ukai strips quickly, a sharp grin on his face making you flush. He crawls forward, caging you in between his arms. His hips settle in between your thighs, and you can feel his erection through his boxers.

When he looks at you, his hair flops down. You lift your hand, running your fingers through it. He leans into your touch, grinning before bending down to kiss you. His lips are warm against you, and he doesn’t waste any time, attacking your jawline and neck with sharp, biting kisses. You card your hands through his hair, eyes fluttering shut. His kisses switch into something more intense, and you gasp, eyes fluttering open as small bites litter your neck.

“Ukai,” you moan, fingers tightening in his hair. He leaves little marks until he reaches your chest. His tongue swirls around a nipple, fingers pinching the other. The small sparks of pleasure go straight to your pussy, and your hips shift underneath Ukai, making him groan.

His mouth is hot and relentless on you, and your nipples ache from the attention. His teeth lightly bite down on your breast, not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to make your eyes fly open.

“Keishin!” you squeal. He chuckles before letting his tongue run over were he just bit.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, not really meaning it, and he continues his path down. When he reaches the waist of your shorts, his eyes find yours, waiting. Biting the inside of your cheek, you shift your hips up, and Ukai grips the fabric, tugging down both your shorts and your underwear. His eyes focus on your exposed pussy, making note of how it’s already wet.

“Quit staring,” you complain, embarrassment flooding your system. He smirks down at you, using his finger to trail up and down your already soaking slit.

“So pretty and wet…” he mumbles. Your hips squirm underneath him, and his finger travels to circle your sensitive clit. You whine at the jolts of pleasure, making him smirk. His finger dips down, and he pushes it in gently. He thumbs at your clit, eyes flicking in between your face and your greedy pussy. Your tug at his hair, rotating your hips in time with his gentle thrusts.

“Keishin, more please,” you whine, making him chuckle. He slips another finger in, stretching you out. Your hands leave his hair to pinch at your nipples. Ukai’s head dips down to lightly bite the inside of your thigh, making you jolt. When he pushes in a third finger, you moan loudly, throwing your head back against the pillow. Something white-hot and foreboding pokes at the edges of your mind, threatening to spill over.

“I’m gonna cum, Kei,” you warn, eyes fluttering shut. His fingers curl inside of you, thumb still relentless on your clit.

“Open your eyes, Y/N.” His voice leaves no room for any argument, and you force them to open, watching as his fingers continue to pump into you. “Cum for me, baby.” He leans down again, eyes fixed on yours, and he bites the inside of your other thigh, and the pain combines with the pleasure, catapulting you over the edge.

You writhe and thrash against him, hips bucking up against his fingers. Ukai’s laugh fills the room, and he continues to move his fingers, letting you ride out your orgasm. When he finally pulls his hand away, you whimper from the loss. He presses a kiss to your hip before flipping you over.

You hear him shuffle, and you glance over your shoulder and see him kneeling behind you, boxers finally off. Excitement and arousal pool inside of you, and you squirm as his hands massage your ass.

“You’re big,” you murmur, making him laugh. He’s thick and long enough that you know it’ll feel good. But even then, you can’t help but wonder if he’ll actually fit. You flush facing forward again, but he leans down to press kisses to your spine.

“You good to keep going?” he asks in between each peck. You nod, letting your fingers dig into the sheets by your head.

“I’ve been thinking about this for years,” he groans, making you flush. His fingers dig into your ass, massaging the flesh. You squirm underneath him, feeling yourself get wetter under his touch. Ukai runs the head of his cock up and down your slit, and you inhale sharply, overcome with the desire to see his face.

“Wait!” you cry out, throwing an arm back to grab his arm. Immediately, he pulls away from you and freezes.

“What’s wrong are you okay? Do you wanna stop?” Panic colors his voice, and you shake your head before rolling over onto you back.

“I, uh, I just wanted to see you,” you mumble, feeling shy. Ukai barks out a laugh and smirks down at you, one of his hands moving to stroke your thigh affectionately.

“Fair enough. There’s always next time.” His predatory grin makes your cunt clench, and you reach up, gesturing for him to lean down. He cocks his head to the side, hair tilting with it.

“What is it you want?” You flush, letting your gaze go past his shoulder.

“A kiss.” His eyes light up, and he leans down, letting his lips ghost against yours. You push up, meeting his lips, and he chuckles. Ukai ruts his hips against you, letting his cock slide in between your soaking folds.

“Keishin, quit teasing me,” you whine. He rolls his eyes before pushing away, resting on his knees.

“Wanna watch your little pussy try to take me,” he explains, letting the head of his cock gently push into you. Your face contorts at the breach, and you wring your hands in the sheets. He whispers sweet words, eyes glued to your flutter pussy. He slowly rocks his hips forward, watching as he sinks in another inch.

You let out a choked moan, his slow movements emphasizing his size. His eyes snap up to your face, letting his hands squeeze your waist.

“Your sweet little cunt feels so good already,” he groans. Your hands tug at the sheets as you try not to squirm. But it feels nearly impossible with how red-hot his cock feels inside of you.

You preen under Ukai’s attention, his hands massaging your flesh as your pussy tries to relax around his thick length.

“So hot and tight.” His words shake as his eyes trail down your body to watch your pussy split around him as he inches in.

“You’re too big,” you keen, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes at the intense stretch, and nonetheless, the thought adds fuel to the fire in your belly, and your pussy clenches down harder on his cock. His thumb strokes delicate circles into your hip, and he smirks down at you.

“Yea, and the thought has you squeezing around my cock, huh? That’s pretty messed up.” You flush at his words, embarrassment coursing through your veins. You turn your head to the side, wanting to escape his intense gaze. Keishin leans forward, rocking his hips and pushing his cock slowly into you until he bottoms out. You let out a pathetic whine, covering your face with your hands

“Don’t get shy now, baby,” he coos, batting at your hands, which flop above your head. “I think it’s cute how tight you are around me. I’m just too big? Is that it, baby?” You moan, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him towards you. He chuckles as you bury face into the crook of his neck. Tentatively, Ukai slowly pulls out, every ridge and vein dragging deliciously against your walls. When he pushes back in, you groan against his skin, and your hands travel up and down the smooth expanse of his back, your nails leaving red lines.

His hand snakes in-between the two of you, and a calloused finger expertly traces patterns onto your clit. You moan loudly, and your body writhes against him. Ukai pulls away from you, and a cruel grin sprawls out onto his face.

“Are you gonna cum? Already?” You nod, pathetically bucking your hips against him still. “We’ve barely started,” he taunts.

“I can’t help it,” you choke out, nerves feeling overwhelmed by sensations. He hums at your words, licking his lips as he eyes your body.

“Okay. It’s okay. Do you wanna be good for me?” he gently asks. You squirm beneath him, hands gripping his biceps, and you nod your head.

“I wanna be good for you, Keishin,” you cry out, the walls of your cunt fluttering around his thick cock. “I’ll be good for you.” His smirk slips into a softer smiler, and he leans forward, grinding his cock into you, and leaving sharp kisses against your neck.

“Then cum for me,” he murmurs against your neck, before shifting to lightly bite your shoulder. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you cant your hips against him, pussy fluttering around him. You grip his biceps tightly, orgasm overwhelming you.

“That’s it. Creaming so pretty on my dick,” Ukai whispers, watching your face contort in pleasure. He ruts into you, fingers still expertly teasing your clit, in an attempt to draw out your orgasm. Your eyes crack open, small tears leaking from your eyes.

“It’s too much, Kei,” you squeal, nails digging into his biceps as you try to squirm away from him. He tuts lightly at you, his hot tongue swiping along the delicate bite mark that’s on your shoulder.

“I thought you wanted to be good for me,” he rumbles. You nod, letting your eyes shut again. The fingers that were tortuously circling your clit slip away to pinch you’re inner thigh. “Look at me, baby.” You pry your eyes open and pant against him. His clever fingers continue their ministrations, and his hips grind deeper into you, making your brain feel foggy and warm.

“I wanna be good,” you mumble, hands leaving his biceps to tangle themselves into his hair. Ukai makes an approving sound, and he kisses your cheek.

“Cum. Again.” A pathetic cry tears itself from your throat, and you focus on the intense pleasure you’re feeling. Ukai leans down, littering your chest with little sharp bites that make you keen. Your brows pinch at the intense pleasure, hips grinding against him. You’re already close again, and you tug at his hair, urging him to kiss you again. His lips eagerly find yours, and you feel him smile against you. You’re so close to falling over that edge again. Your cunt is absolutely drenched, and the erotic squelching makes you flush.

Ukai’s tongue prods at your lips, and you obediently open your mouth, letting him in. It’s sloppy and desperate, and it’s perfect. His fingers dig into your clit, pinching it, and you are flung into the stratosphere, stars popping into your vision. You gush around his cock, and he groans against your lips.

Your thighs twitch, and your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him close to you, urging him to still. He complies, peppering your face with kisses as you come back to earth.

“So pretty,” he whispers against you. You card your fingers through his hair as you try to catch your breath.

“Oh my god, Keishin.” Your voice wavers, and you're embarrassed by how hoarse you sound.

“Want me to stop?” You shake your head desperately at his question, and your legs tighten around him.

“No. I just need a second.” He chuckles watching as your screws up. “I didn’t think I was that sensitive,” you sigh. You unlace your fingers from his hair, wiping at the sweat that’s on your neck.

Ukai smirks at you as he shifts to kneel. His warm hands gripping your waist, keeping you flushed against him. You whine at the movement, pussy tightening around him. His eyes trail over where he enters you, admiring how you’re spread out for him.

“Or, maybe my dick’s too big for you,” he taunts, no real malice behind his words. You squeak at his words, feeling embarrassed and warm. “Yea, that’s it,” he continues, fondly looking at your messy cunt. “You’re so sensitive cause it barely fits in your cunt,” he coos.

“Oh my god,” you murmur, lazily wrapping your legs around him. He lets out a laugh, one that resounds through the apartment, and you smile at him, something syrupy running through your head. “And I think-“

You cut yourself off, nerves overtaking you. His head cocks to the side, and his thumb strokes your waist in a reassuring manner.

“I’m balls deep in you. Don’t get shy on me now,” he says gently, his soft tone colliding with his crude words.

“You’re so vulgar, Keishin.” You roll your eyes at him, a soft smile creeping onto your face. “It could be that,” you say, not wanting to repeat his words, “but I also think I may be sensitive cause it’s you.”

Your voice is soft, and you watch as Ukai practically melts. His arms wrap around you, pulling you against his chest. You moan as your weight settles on him, increasing the pressure from his cock.

“Are you being serious right now?” His voice rumbles through you, and you bite your lip and nod. You press a palm to his cheek, relishing in the way he leans into it.

“There’s no one for me but you, Keishin.” Ukai kicks his legs out behind you, letting you get more comfortable on his lap. His arms wrap around you, holding you close to him, and he buries his face into your neck. His hips buck up into you, making you squeal.

“Gonna fuck you so good. You’re never gonna be able to think about anyone but me inside this pussy.” He punctuates his words with a thrust, and your nails dig into his back. You rock your hips against him, as he sprinkles kisses against your neck.

“Ever since,” you pant, “ ever since I got back, all I’ve thought about is you. I missed you so much.” He moans into your neck, and his sweet kisses turn into little bites, nipping at the sensitive skin there.

“Did you touch yourself? Thinking about my fat cock pushing into you?” he mutters in between nips. Your brows pinch together and you nod as your exhausted pussy flutters again.

“Yes! But all I wanted was you!” Ukais teeth clamp down on your neck, not hard enough to break skin, but it stings. You squeal as he roughly changes positions again, forcing you on your back again, legs wrapped tightly around him.

His pace is relentless, pounding into you. Your fingers claw down his back, and his hands squeeze your hips.

“It’s too much, Kei,” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut. Ukai presses a searing kiss to your lips, thumb digging into your side.

“Please, baby. Give me one more. Cum for me one more time,” he mumbles into your lips. You nod against him, blinking through the tears. “Good. Just let me fuck you like this.”

His cock drives deep in you, making you keen. Your hands travel up to his hair, tangling into it, and tugging at the strands. He feels everywhere, his presence is overwhelming, hot and heavy. His hips rut into you, lips peppering your face with small kisses. Your cunts already oversensitive can feel your orgasm approaching.

“I’m close, Kei,” you choke out, pussy gushing around his cock. You flush at the lewd noises, but he just moans nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Give it to me. Wanna feel your little pussy squeeze around me.” You hold him to your neck, hips bucking into him. Ukai’s hand snakes down in between the two of you, and his fingers rub intense circles on your clit. Your eyes squeeze shut, as the building pleasure finally reaches its peak.

“Just like that, baby. Cum around my cock.” You writhe beneath him, your hands traveling to claw down his back. Your hot cunt grips him tight, legs tightening around his waist. “Just like that,” he groans, before his teeth sink into the base of your shoulder. You moan his name loudly, loud enough that you would be embarrassed later, but for not you don’t care. All you can focus on is the white-hot pleasure that’s coursing through your system.

Ukai’s thrusts don’t stop, plowing into you and prolonging your orgasm. He pulls his hand away from your clit, and he slips his arms in between your back and the bed, holding you tightly. You whine as you feel his hips begin to lose their pace, thrusts no longer steady. Your legs squeeze around him, keeping him close to you.

“Cum inside, please I need it,” you beg. He pulls away from your neck, eyebrows creasing in concern. “I’m on the pill. It’s safe, I promise. Please Kei, I need you to fill me, please, please, please.”

“Alright, baby. I’ll give you what you want.” His head drops back to the crook of your neck, as he stutters against you, hot spurts of cum flooding your pussy. He falls against you, before rolling onto his side, keeping you tight against him. His cock is still lodged within you, and you whine at the movement. Sweet kisses litter your face and neck, and you blink blearily at him. He slowly pulls out of you, grunting at the way your pussy flutters. You grimace as his cum drips out of your abused cunt.

“Gotta get you cleaned up,” he mumbles, before standing up and disappearing to the bathroom. You flop onto your back, trying to catch your breath. When Ukai returns, he kneels in between your shaky legs, and ever so carefully, he takes care of you. There’s something unusually soft in his actions, soft enough to make your heart squeeze. He also gets you a glass of water, which you gulp down. He lights a cigarette, as he watches your eyes start to clear up.

“Keishin, you’re kind of nasty,” you mumble, stretching your arms out above your head. His laugh rumbles through the air, as he takes a drag. He eyes you greedily, as if he’s going to eat you alive.

“This was nothing. There’s so much I wanna do to you.” His voice is low, heavy with exhaustion. “But for now I just want to hold you.”

“Well that can be arranged,” you tease, lying back on the bed. Ukai chuckles, putting out his cigarette and crawling forward to wrap his arms around you. You sigh in contentment, letting your eyes shut.

“I missed you,” he mutters, and you smile against him.

“I missed you too, Keishin.” Sleep tugs at your brain, luring it to a deep rest.

“Did you mean it? What you said?” His voice is unusually quiet, delicately piercing the air. His thumb gently strokes your arm. Your eyes flutter open, and your brows pinch as you try to recall what you had said.

“About what?” you ask, trying to stifle a yawn.

“What you said? About you and me?”

Oh.

You smile at him, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his lips. When you pull away, you lean your forehead against his and you smile.

“The only person for me is you, Keishin. It’s always been you.” He hums happily before he pulls you against him.

“Good. Cause I was serious. I’m not letting you go again.” You shut your eyes and nuzzle into him, taking comfort in the way his arms wrap around you. And it’s in those arms that you embrace the most peaceful sleep you’ve had in years.✨

#ukai keishin x reader #keishin ukai x reader #coach ukai x reader #ukai keishin x you #keishin ukai x you #coach ukai x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #coach ukai smut #ukai keishin smut #keishin ukai smut #haikyuu smut #💫.ukai

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domesticblisss · 3 years ago

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When the Good Feeling Dies

Timothy Thatcher x Female OFC Rating: Mature (Minros DNI) Word Count: 2526 Warnings: Fluff, smut, the tiniest bit of angst, cursing, alcohol mention and a lot of nostalgia. Summary: It was just a trip back home, but Alex never expected to see him again. Inspired by The Gaslight Anthem’s song, Even Cowgirls Get the Blues A/N: Woke up at 04a.m. this night and another song was playing on the radio that made me remind of this one. I have an undying love for this song, and I don't even know how to explain how it makes me feel. Anyways, I played it and the story basically wrote it self. Hope you guys like it, I missed writing for my fave. Also, the song sets the mood, so listening while reading it would be very nice.

Alexandria knew that feeling way too well. As soon as she opened the doors of the Old Ironsides, the familiar smells hit her nose, the familiar laughter and loud music hit her ears, and it felt like home. It always felt like home.

The cozy space hadn’t changed much from what it looked like since the last time she was there, the colourful lights still shone bright, good music was still loudly playing from the old jukebox and the patrons were still the same.

John, one of the owners and bartenders, recognised her, his strong, loud laughter boomed as soon as she approached the counter. They engaged in conversation, catching up on how life had been after those almost five years apart.

As John went to grab her usual, Alex gave another look around the place to take in all of the memories the place awaked in her.

Tim.

She spotted Tim in the same place they used to sit when they came to the bar by themselves. The second to last stool on the left side of the counter, her spot by his left side free – the spot he always saved for her, between him and the wall so “no idiots will bother you” – making her smile. Tim had always been a creature of habit and of course he hasn’t changed, he still wore his band t-shirts, still had his hat on, nursed a beer and a fucking book. He still reads in bars.

“He got back today too.” John said as he came back with her drink, catching her surprised.

“Oh…”

“Go talk to him, kid.”

“Thanks, John.” she said, and smiled when the older man saluted her.

Timothy and her met, as she liked to say, ages ago. Both fresh in college, him for his journalism degree and her for her advertising one. They shared a couple of classes in the first semester, instantly hitting off when they saw each other wearing the same Rancid t-shirt on their first day of classes.

Alexandria had to stop for a moment as Tom Petty’s “Don’t Do Me Like That” came in the jukebox. Memories flood her brain, memories of the days they spent studying until 3 in the morning, memories of their roadtrips to secluded beaches, memories of her patching him up after his matches. Memories of their first kiss, at that same spot Tim sat in, both a little too tipsy after one too many bottles of beer.

“Hey.” Alex said, barely above a whisper. She doubted he had heard her, but the too familiar touch of her hand made him turn around.

“Lexie? Hey!” It took him a few seconds to process who was in front of him, – no, he did not forget about her, he would never forget about her, he couldn’t forget about her – but his slightly too loud voice came out as soon as he realised it was really Alexandria.

“Hey!” Alex said once again, this time louder.

Tim got up and embraced her in an awkward little hug.

“Still drinking PBR?” Tim chuckled when he saw the bottle in her hand.

“Yeah, guess they got too bad for your now german-refined taste buds huh?” Alex laughed at his expression, the same one he always had whenever she came with a snarky response. “Can I sit here?”

“Of course you can, Lex.”

Timothy’s and Alexandria’s relationship was one of very little ups and downs. They met in college, started dating the day before their graduation, – they were afraid of never seeing each other again after that, so they builded up some courage and finally blurted out their feelings, at the same time nonetheless – they dated for another seven years after that, and it ended with a break up coming from Tim, but they remained very close friends. She would still go to his shows, still patch him up after a rough match and even go out for drinks with his wrestler friends. It was one of his wrestler friends, Biff, that, one night, drunkenly, let it slip out that Tim still loved her, and that he only broke up with her because he felt like he was keeping her behind in her career. Alex never confronted Tim about it, knowing full well that the stubborn man would never admit, and that it was better to have him as her friend than to not have him in her life at all.

Tim left for his full time stay in Germany not long after and a year later, Alexandria finally got the position of her dreams in the company of her dreams in New York. She visited him in Germany that first year and went to some of his shows in NYC when he was back in the country. In the beginning, they would message each other daily, but it slowed down, turning into a few times a month, turning into birthdays and other important dates only.

She can’t even remember the last time Tim and her had a long conversation.

“So what brings you home, Tim?”

“You know, decided to spend some time with my family, see some friends I haven’t seen in a long time now that I’m a free agent again.”

“Any plans?” she asked, excited. She always loved hearing about his wrestling experiences.

“Not yet, just want to see where life takes me. And you? What brings Miss New York back to good ol’ little Sacramento?”

She chuckled at the nickname, the posh tone of voice still the same he used whenever he wanted to annoy her about the moving to another city situation.

“I quit.” she said, plain and simple.

Tim choked on his beer as soon as the words hit his ears. “What do you mean you quit? It’s your dream job.”

“Well, it was great at the beginning, the money was out of this world, but then…” she sighed “it was draining me, Tim. I hated waking up and having to go back to the office. The city is great, I made some friends and all but I felt so alone. Money and status isn’t everything, you know?”

Tim raised his own beer bottle and clinked it against hers “I’ll drink to that.”

They talked for hours, until they were the only two left at the bar. Catching up on each other's lives, on their accomplishments. They talked so freely with each other that it felt like they had never left, like they hadn’t spent so many years apart, like they were still in college.

“Sorry to interrupt you love birds but we need to close the bar.” John interrupted the duo.

Alex glanced at her watch and it was 02:30am. “Oh my god, John, I’m so sorry. We’re leaving. How much do we owe you?”

“Put her tab with mine.”

“Tim, cmon–“ he cut her off, with the same look of “don’t argue” he would always give her when things like this happened. She rolled her eyes.

They said their goodbyes to John, promising they would come back another day.

“Where’s your car?” Tim asked her as soon as they were out of the door.

“I got an Uber here.”

“Where are you staying at? It’s almost 3 in the morning and I’m not letting you Uber there.”

“At the downtown Hilton.”

It was a silent car ride, like it always were whenever they went out for drinks and went home in the wee hours.

Alexandria stares at the scenery out of the window, as the buildings, trees and some of the still existing nightlife pass by them, and Tim occasionally steals glances of her form.

It’s a short, 10 minute ride, enough to revive old feelings in both of them.

“Do you still have the same phone number?” Tim asked as soon as she turned around to look at him.

“Yeah, and you?”

“Same one too. What do you say we grab something to eat one of these days?”

“Deal!” she smiled at him.

Tim hugged her for the second time that night, but now a more comfortable hug, one that felt right. Alex kissed his beard covered cheek before saying goodbye.

“Don’t be a stranger, Tim.” she winked as she got out of the car and into the hotel.

On her way to her room, Alexandria kept thinking about how they haven’t seen each other in four years, and how handsome Tim still is. Yeah, time got to him and he’s a little bit more rough around the edges, but he was just as beautiful as ever.

She showered and followed through with her skin care routine, feeling more energetic than she had felt in a very long time. As she climbed underneath the soft Hilton sheets, her phone vibrated on the nightstand, and she was greeted with a message coming from Tim.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you again. Don’t be a stranger, Lexie.”

Alex smiled, not bothering to answer Tim back, knowing that he was probably in deep sleep.

She woke up well rested that morning and answered the message that still lived on in her notification centre.

“good morning! hope you slept well, tim. and the feeling is mutual, can’t wait to see you again ☺️”

They went back and forth with the small talk and Tim invited her for dinner at his that same night.

Turns out Tim’s new place wasn’t very far from the hotel, just a mere five minute ride.

As soon as the door opened, Alex got hit with the familiar smell of carne asada. Tim greeted her with a “hey” and a kiss on her cheek.

“Something smells nice…” Alex said as she followed him to the kitchen area.

It was a small apartment, very tidy, with as little objects and furniture as possible, just enough to live comfortably. Same Old Tim.

“Of course I’m not cooking because I don’t want to ruin your night, but remember that place we used to go when we were up late at night during exam weeks?”

“They are still open???” the woman asked in shock.

“Yep.”

“Holy shit.”

Tim laughed at her demeanour. He knew that that little mexican place was her favourite in the whole world, and he wanted to surprise her.

They talked the whole time, still catching up on almost six years apart.

“Sooooo… any boyfriends, girlfriends or some other partner?” Tim asked in a playful tone, but deep inside, he knew he was afraid of the answer.

“Nope.” she answered, popping the “p” a little too hard.

“What do you mean no? A beautiful woman like you in a big city like that?” C’mon! Not even a fling?”

“Ugh, Tim…” she rolled her eyes “yeah there’s a couple of guys but nothing too serious. Nothing worked out actually.” she looked at him for a moment before continuing. “And what about you? Germany seemed to have treated you well as did Florida.”

“Nothing either, doll.” he said and drowned some more beer.

“C’mon Timmo! We might not have talked much during this time but I’ve watched your matches from Europe, I’ve seen some hot chicks going crazy for you… do you really want me to believe that you didn’t get some mad pussy over there?”

Tim’s disgusted face came out as soon as the words left her mouth, and her laughter came out as soon as she saw the look he had on.

“Doll… why must you– anyways, no, I had no one, no ‘mad pussy’ for me.” Tim finally answered, voice full of distress.

“Okay then, I’ll believe you.”

They went silent after that, and just kept staring at each other, taking in each other’s presence. The way that Tim held his beer and drank it, the way her fingers played with the bottle’s cap. Everything felt so familiar, almost like a deja-vú.

Alex paid close attention to Tim’s movements, how he set the amber bottle back down on the table, his large thumb sliding through its neck, fumbling with the loose label. He always did that when he was anxious and thoughtful.

“I still love you, Tim.” Alex blurted out.

“Come here.” the man said, tapping on his lap for her to sit on it.

He kissed her as soon as she straddled him. One big honest kiss, feral and hungry, years of bottled up emotions.

“I've never stopped loving you, Lexie. Never. Never wanted to break up in the first place.” he said once they stopped to catch some air. She nodded in acknowledgment, bringing his lips back to hers.

She could feel his hard on poking her sex, and he could feel how damp the thin fabric of her panties was, both desperately trying to get some friction.

Tim started to tease her through her underwear, drawing lazy circles around her clothed clit. After some whining from her, he finally gave in, slowly inserting one thick finger in her pussy, working his way until he could get a second one inside, his thumb never leaving her clit, just how she liked it. It wasn’t long before he got her her first orgasm.

She laughed as the shockwaves left her body, the sight of Tim licking her juices off his fingers making her more aroused. Alex brought his lips back to hers, this time on a slow, sensuous kiss, savouring her own taste on his tongue.

“I need you inside me, Timmo.” the woman whispered as soon as they parted.

He quickly sat her on the table, and the couple got rid of their clothes as fast as they could.

She laid there, lazily playing with herself as he put a condom on. Alex smiled when he approached her, Tim grabbing her right leg, peppering small, wet kisses all the way to her cunt, making her buckle and whine, telling him that they will have time for that later. He kept going up with his trail of wet kisses until he reached her lips, giving her one last kiss, before saying “I love you” as he entered her.

The weight of his cock still felt the same, and it still fit her perfectly. Tim still knew how to touch her, still knew all the spots that made her quiver.

He kept a steady pace, increasing the speed as they both chased their highs.

The only noises in the room were the ones coming from their lips, and the ones from their skins meeting in sync.

He brought her back to his lap after they came, hands smoothing her hair and the expanse of her back. The duo stayed in silence, basking in each other’s touch.

“Have you found an apartment already?” Tim broke the silence.

“No, not yet.”

“Then move in with me.”

Lexie sat up, searching for Tim’s eyes and finding nothing but sincerity and adoration. She smiled at him before opening her mouth again. “I don’t think all of my stuff will fit in here, Timmo.”

“Then we will find another apartment. Hell, we’ll get a house with a big backyard like you’ve always wanted, ok?”

“Okay.” she nodded, laying her head on his chest again, his heartbeat almost lulling her to sleep.

#wrestling imagine #wrestling fanfiction #timothy thatcher imagine #timothy thatcher fanfiction #timothy thatcher x ofc #timothy thatcher #db writes #db fanfic

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sarah-dipitous · 2 years ago

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Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 71

Wishful Thinking/The Lazarus Experiment

“Wishful Thinking”

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: why is this looking a lot like the one with the ghost ship? I know it’s not. Ok so no one died…I don’t think???

From the recap—I…it shouldn’t cause so many fluttery heart feelings to hear Cas say they were going to smite an entire town, but here we are…I’m gonna miss this Castiel

Ok but like…who on this show ISN’T at least kind of a dick?? You can’t just say that about the Uriel

Your dedication to the job is heartwarming, Dean…has nothing to do with the fact that the ghost is haunting a women’s shower, I’m sure

Stop. Stop. You can’t just name the fake book you’re ‘writing’ supernatural…

“There’s a Bigfoot out there dammit, and he’s a son of a bitch”

I do not remember this episode AT ALL. Wtf is happening?? I know there’s allegedly a wishing well but what are these people even wishing for??

The fairy tales episode I could handle, but this is WEIRD

I am DYING. So this Bigfoot is apparently this little girl’s teddy bear? And the Winchesters are posing as teddy bear doctors to be able to see it…this is fantastic. Omg omg omg how did I block this out of my memory?? The teddy bear who came to life, became human adult size, and is now despairing at the fact that it’s now gained consciousness…but all Audrey wants to do is have tea parties with him, but he’s DEPRESSED depressed…which the boys are calling “lollipop disease” to placate her and get her to leave for a while

I guess the safest thing is to wish for a sandwich (still got E. coli from it)

That’s… that’s a dark wish, Sam. I mean, I get it, but damn.

I bet the kid who stopped chasing the other kids asked Dean if he had a problem is the first wisher…that’s the only reason I can see for including him so far

THE TEDDY BEAR JUST TRIED TO BLOW ITS BRAINS OUT BUT IT HAS NO BRAIN JUST STUFFING SO IT’S STILL ALIVE

It’s not the engagement, that’s too obvious…oh god, she barely has free will.

Hang on, it IS that guy who wished for the engagement?? Then what’s the deal with the mean looking kid???

Can’t believe they hit the invisible kid with the car and…

Oh, THAT’s the point of the mean looking kid. Give him super strength and make him yell “KNEEL BEFORE TODD!!” because…of course his name is Todd. It’s the perfect name. Dean just tried to “with great power comes great responsibility” him and got hit in the face for it

Hoooooooly shit. Hope just got Sam electrocuted out of nowhere.

Oh. Oh, Todd. Aw, but Dean helping him not be bullied anymore anyway.

Sorry, there’s a lot of moving pieces in this episode

Oh no…Dean DOES remember EVERYTHING from hell, and he thinks there’s no helping him and he just has to live with that and shoulder it all alone. I hate it.

“Been On My Mind…”: Nope. 7.

“The Lazarus Experiment”

God…I both can and can’t believe how quickly he tries to just dump Martha…🙄

Ahhhh!!! Mr Saxon mention again 💖

I love that all moms are suspicious of the Doctor

It’s weird to see non-Mycroft Mark Gatiss

Oh, are there—are there some side effects to extremely literal anti-aging?? Who would have seen that coming

Marthaaaaaaa!!! The Doctor does not deserve you and how clever you are!! Bravo you collecting a DNA sample from Not Mycroft

God, I know his DNA is constantly being rewritten but this hurts to see…I mean, kinda. These two aren’t necessarily good people, but the betrayal she suffers…

I think in my 20s I was annoyed with Martha’s mom being this concerned, and maybe she’s still being a TINY TINY bit overbearing (Martha was only gone 12 hours as far as she knows but still thinks there’s no way for Martha to become a doctor if she doesn’t focus??), but she’s not completely wrong

Man, I wish Tish was as suspicious of weird shit as her mother…

Ok but I wouldn’t trust the guy who shaded the Doctor either!!!

Oh he’s a MONSTER monster. Bug ass — I mean big ass scorpion looking thing with a terribly CGI’d face holy shit (bug ass really came from me not looking as I typed and it was too funny to let go)

The face doesn’t even look like Mark Gatiss either…..

Is this dude working for Mr Saxon?? That’s the only thing I can think as to why he’s so invested in this Doctor smear campaign

Honestly, this part in the cathedral is beautiful and haunting. You can almost feel bad for the guy…

Taking your sweet old time with that organ, aren’t you Doc?

Is he actually dead this time??

I wish Tish could go on just one trip. I think she’d like that

Episodes Since the Doctor’s Last Attempted Genocide: is it 3 now? This was probably a bad segment. I have a hard enough time keeping track of just the regular day number

#hellsite nostalgia tour 2023

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seodami · 3 years ago

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Dearest treasure | KTH

Summary: Every kid in town was afraid of Kang Taehyun, the old -slightly creepy- man living alone for years and years in the same run down house. Every night he would go into his backyard with a shovel and dig a hole into the earth. No one knows why and there are kids rumouring about him burying people. Jungwon was a bright kid, wanting to find out the truth behind this widely spread rumour for a school project. And what he found out would change his life forever.

Genre: fluff, angst, flashbacks, story of life, snippets of life, tiny bit humour

Warning: old Taehyun, mention of death, mention of suicide/suicidal thoughts, death

Word count: 10152 (all 3 parts)

Pairing: Kang Taehyun x reader, (Yang Jungwon)

Note: Wow okay so this story took me a while to write and I listened to hours of das music to finish this🥺 this was honestly an emotional rollercoaster. But I’m so glad it’s finally finished so I can post it on here yayyy!!! I hope you like it an enjoooyy (please tell me if you cried I would really appreciate your responses haha bc I did)

Main masterlist

2089 (present)

Deathly silence hung in the air as thick as smog. In Jungwons eyes pooled tears, ready to spill over the edges to fall into free fall and drop heavily onto his trousers. His heart was burning, not finding any suitable words of comfort or understanding for the old man in front of him. His throat felt like it was tied up so tightly, he couldn’t breathe. Oh, how didn’t he know? Oh, how could anyone talk bad behind his back? So much hurt…

Mr. Kangs head hung low, not daring to make any other noice than his sniffling nose. Hot tear drops were silently dropping down, it felt suffocating just watching him so full of hurt and sorrow. Suddenly Jungwon felt sorry to let him relive his whole life together with the terrible pain even the young boy could feel.

“I- I…I never could…forgive myself. It was my fault-“ the once handsome mans face was dark and the wrinkles now seemingly even deeper full of regrets and unspoken words. “You wouldn’t understand, boy-“

Jungwon couldn’t form any appropriate words at that moment and let the sadness let him take away just for a little longer. His story was heavy… he felt like he just heard something he shouldn’t have heard. Something so private and fragile. It had touched him more than he had thought.

“I didn’t want to live anymore… it was all worthless since then… I had no motivation to keep going.” His voice became a tad more stable, yet still quiet and weak. His tired eyes met the innocent boys and for a second the old man could see his younger self inside his big brown eyes. Sadness and nostalgia rolled over him and he averted his gaze.

“I tried ending my life many times since that day- it never worked no matter how much I wanted it… and then I just…I just mouldered…alone, broken- and just a shell of my old self. I wasn’t the once happy, bright, clever boy anymore. I could never be that again…”

Jungwons heart felt heavy, breathing wasn’t bearable. His hands unconsciously reached forward to the tiny lost figure sitting in his sunken mould. It was a simple touch but for Mr. Kang it was the first reassuring and comforting gesture he had received in a long long time. It made him tear up stronger, still staying silent. The young boy wanted to be there for the old man. He wanted to show him that he wasn’t alone in this.

Moments of depressing, yet healing silence passed, just the ticking of the old clock in the dark living room was heard. “I’m so sorry Mr. Kang…” Jungwon finally whispered, unsure if the man spoken to even heard it. He couldn’t do much but be there in this moment. Quite honestly he felt like crying himself. But he wanted to stay strong for him.

“One day-“ Mr. Kangs voice shook a little but he kept talking. “-I remembered the time capsule. My dearest treasure. So long ago. And I made it my life mission to find it. One last moment to hold onto and…look back to.” A thick single tear slowly rolled down Jungwons cheek. So that was it. That’s why… and everyone had dragged the vulnerable man down, putting even more dirt into his deep wounds.

“I-I searched everywhere. But…but i just…forgot. It’s my last wish before I finish this…” life he wanted to say. Finish his life. It made the school boy unbelievable sad. Oh how much he must’ve suffered his whole life. And before Jungwon could’ve decided differently, a strong feeling of wanting to help and support creeped up to him.

“I��m gonna help you Mr. Kang. We will find your treasure.” Jungwon reassuringly took the heavy, wrinkled hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. It was the first time since that day, that he felt hope again. Just a tiny tiny splinter but it was there. Hope.

The next hours, both of the males digged holes through the whole garden, not saving any sweat, too focused on finding the mans greatest desire. Mr. Kang had already reached his limit after three holes, following with the 14 year old boy leading him towards an old wooden garden bench to rest on. Jungwon on the other hand was full of verve and energy to fulfill his dearest wish. To find his dearest treasure. Mr. Kang watched him with surprise and thankfulness, never had anyone gone all the way out to help him with something so important to him. There was never someone who he could’ve went to. After that day, he had broken off all the contact with his old friends. He wanted to feel alone at some point. He deserved the pain. That’s what he had always told himself. But now he was old and weak and just wanted nothing more than to be finally reunited with his beloved family. He missed you everyday. He heard his daughters laughters everyday. And he saw his son running around outside in the garden everyday. He finally wanted to be with his family everyday.

It had already gotten dark and cold at this point, Mr. Kang had brought the hard working boy a jacket and a warm tea. The sun was already long gone, just the small lights from the veranda and from the street shined over towards them. Jungwon was still digging, his once tidy school clothes now full of dirt and dust and drenched in sweat. He couldn’t give up. He knew that. So he kept digging and digging. The moon was fondly watching at the pair below, shining just a tad brighter tonight for them. Short friendly small talk about school went quickly over to heartfelt conversations about life and this and that. Nobody, not even the moon, would’ve thought that the bitter, lonely 87 year old Taehyun and the bright, cheerful 14 year old Jungwon would’ve ever even crossed paths, yet life showed again how unpredictable and full of surprises it could be. This night, a tight bond between the two men was woven. So unexpected but yet so lovely.

The clock already told them it was 6 minutes before midnight when another noice cut through the silent night air. A metallic sound. Gasping, Jungwon threw the shovel away, excitement now rushing through his veins. He fell onto his knees, not caring about the moist soil on his trousers. His hands digged through the last part, brown earth now sticking behind his nails, and moments later, he pulled out a medium sized metal box, securely wrapped in plastic. Jungwon felt like he just won the Olympics, he felt like he did it. He did it…

A quick gaze onto the bench showed him the sleeping old man, now seeming even tinier than before. With shaky steps and a weird feeling of proudness and fulfilment, Jungwon waddled over to the sleeping form, gently waking him up. The box in his hands was tightly in his grasp, not letting go. Mr. Kangs heavy lidded eyes flew open in an instant when he saw the metal box in the boys arms. Tears burned in his thankful eyes, reaching towards it with shaking arms. Everything felt heavy, yet his heart felt the lightest it had felt in a long long time.

“Thank you…so much.” Tears were now unstoppable rolling down his cheeks. It squeezed Jungwons heart, knowing he could make this man happy again, fulfilling his last wish. The both of them moved up to the house again, warmth engulfing them with its now familiar scent. Comfort. The old man reassured the boy to stay but seeing the box being opened, Jungwon felt as if he got to see something way too private. But he stayed, looking over the sniffling mans shoulder when he pulled out a small pink toy dolphin. His hands were shaking. “This was my daughters. It was her favorite toy when she was…two years old.”

Taehyuns heart clenched, seeing all his treasures in front of him. He desperately pressed the small toy against his chest, letting all his emotions in. It was intense, yet it was all he ever wanted. Seeing the familiar drawings of a green giraffe, sitting on a cloud with a family next to it. He could read all their names above the figures. Oh Taehee…

Looking through the photographs, old memories surfaced and made the man tear up even heavier. He didn’t knew how much he really had missed them. It was as if his empty shell was slowly filled again, reliving all of your best and worst moments. He saw a picture on his old friends Hueningkais 18th birthday. All of his friends were there, cake smeared all across your faces, the brightest smiles someone could ever see. The day he had first met you… Another picture had all of your friends sitting around a small bonfire, being cuddled inside blankets. Taehyun saw his younger handsome self smiling unsure into the camera with you sitting beside him. He could only laugh sadly at the memories of your camping trip where he first had kissed you, the guilty feeling just as clear.

“She looks so happy here…” Taehyun noticed with a testy smile, gently touching your face on the picture, seeing you and him laying on a bed, arms tightly slung around your frame, as you held the camera. His large eyes showed nothing but the purest form of love as he looked over to you. Oh he was such a lovesick fool. “You were a pretty couple…” Jungwon whispered, glancing over the handsome young man and the pretty women. He wished to find someone in his life later, he could look at with just as much love as he did. Taehyun nodded, pulling out the next photo. It was the two of you kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower in Paris, big smiles on both of your faces. Taehyun remembered, it was when he courageously decided to fly around half the globe to you to fix your relationship. He didn’t want to give you up, thank god he didn’t. Another photograph showed you holding your first ultrasound picture, tears streaming down your face. You were both so young and already on the way to becoming parents. It was scary, yes it was one of the most scary moments in life but it was all worth it. The next picture showed you in the hospital bed, looking weak, yet happy. Taehyun was kneeing down next to you, his gaze focused on you and the tiny newborn baby in four arms. A tear dropped down onto the photo but he quickly wiped it away. “Our little Taehee…”

The next picture showed a kissing couple dressed in a gorgeous white dress and a neat black suit. The priest between them was smiling fondly at the newlywed couple. On another one he could see the couple dancing in midst of their guests, white petals laying all over the place. Taehyun sobbed, holding a hand over his mouth. Jungwons hand reassuringly squeezed his shoulder. He was there for him. Taehyuns and your parents were dancing next to you, he could see his friend Yeonjun and Beomgyu dancing with each other playfully and many more of their closest circle. It had been so long. And he missed it. It was such a happy memory.

There were other photographs with you being pregnant, both of your baby pictures, your friends and your parents and a ton of little Taehee running around bubbly in her adorable dresses and overalls. Taehyun hadn’t seen these pictures in a while and it tore his heart into a million pieces. The last picture was inside your new house, the house he never could bring over him to leave. You were all sitting on the carpet, smiling into the camera. The little baby boy snuggling closer in his blanket and the girl pressing a soft kiss onto his tiny head. Taehyuns arms were slung around your frame, head laying on your shoulder relaxing. They were so happy. So happy.

He pulled out an edition of your favorite book with a hand written text inside: ‘For Taehee and Taejun- may they find wisdom and happiness in their long lives. From mum and dad’ Taehyun remembered. Oh he remembered everything. You two would always read this book together since your honeymoon, where you discovered it in one of the local bookstores. Since then it had always be your favorite book. And it hurt him seeing his children never got to read it. Their future was just robbed because of one moment. It was unfair. Why did he get to live when they couldn’t? He never understood.

The last thing Taehyun pulled out of the box was the pink letter littered with dozen of glitter stickers. ‘To my love’ stood on top of it in your cursive handwriting. He gulped, knowing exactly this was made for him personally. It was the letter he dreaded reading. The moment he waited for. The reason he wanted to find this box in the first place. His love. Jungwon stood stiff and still next to him, not daring to say a word. With shaking fingers, he carefully opened the envelope without tearing it. He could immediately recognise your pretty handwriting and already teared up when he read over the first sentence. ‘To my dear love Taehyun, whom I always love’ with another nod, he dared reading through the heartfelt letter.

‘So this is where life led us, what? To be quite honest with you, my 17 year old me would’ve never thought about marrying the handsome boy from Hueningkais birthday party, let alone have his children and buy our first house together. Life went wild with us, am I right Tae? But I regret nothing. Not even when I stole your favorite hoodie out of your closet without you knowing. Everyone was so done with my reckless personality and I often felt misunderstood in my younger days as you know. But you just always seemed to just see the best in me. Even when I felt like giving it all up. You were always there for me. And you were the only one to fully understand and accept me how I am. This is something I never told you in person but I can’t remember how life was without you before. In my mind, you were always there and I know that you will always be there for our family in our long future. I hope when you read this, we are both still happily married, watching our children and grandchildren laugh about all our ridiculous photos inside this box. And Taehee, oh she must be so happy to see her favorite toy again haha. Taehyun, you are my best friend, my first love, my first heartache, my true soulmate and the best husband in the whole world. You are and will always be my love, no matter how time will turn our lives around. We are always together. I love you always,

Your dearest wife Y/N

(P.S. don’t worry about getting old, you are still my handsome prince I fell in love with!)’

At this point, Taehyun was a sobbing mess, not caring what the young boy might think of him. This letter had touched his soul, his deepest heart. He felt every word you’ve written just as if it was you whispering each of them into his ear. He never felt the urge that strong before to be by your side, hug you, kiss you all over your face, tell you how beautiful you were and whisper how much he loved you and would forever. His life made sense only with his family by his side. There was nothing left to live anymore for Taehyun. And he knew that for a long time already.

Jungwon in this moment didn’t knew what to do anymore. He felt like he had fulfilled his mission, making the old man happy for a last time. With quiet steps, he took his video camera, he totally had forgotten and put it in his backpack laying on the floor abandoned. It was his sign to leave, let the man dwell in his emotions and memories. He was done here. With careful steps he went closer to the sobbing man again, softly putting his hand on his shoulder. He looked up as if he knew what the boy was about to say.

A small smile was on his wrinkled lips, clenching on the boys heart. He weakly pushed himself up just to pull the sweaty, in dirt covered student into a warm embrace. It was the first hug since ages it felt like. The hug remembered Jungwon of his own grandmother and tears stuck in his throat. He missed her. “Thank you so much, Jungwon. You are a wonderful kid. You’ve fulfilled my dearest wish. I will forever be thankful to you. May you be blessed forever. You were the only one willing to listen. Thank you.” Jungwon nodded in his shoulder, trying not to burst into tears on the spot but failed nevertheless in the end. He was so glad seeing the happy man in front of him, now seeming even younger than before. The deep sunken eyes didn’t seem frightening anymore. They were warm and welcoming. He could see sparkles of youth inside them. Yes, Jungwon did the right thing.

When the clock showed sharply half an hour past midnight, Jungwon bid his farewell to the man, he weirdly would consider his friend now, knowing he could sleep well tonight. Taehyun insisted on him keeping the jacket he gave him as well as one of the pictures inside the box for his school project and as a token of gratitude. On his quiet walk back home, he smiled endearingly down to the old photograph he carefully held in his hand. It was the last picture. Where the family of four smiled happily into the camera, sitting onto the fluffy rug Jungwon recognised now. He would treasure this picture forever. It was a generous gift, knowing how important it had been to Mr. Kang. He was so thankful.

The next day, Jungwon excitedly presented his project in class. Even though his mother yelled at him concerned where he was until this late, he managed to edit the video for his project, tearing up in the process but still felt motivated to keep going. It was important that he made this his best project. Not for him or his grade, no, it was for Mr. Kang. He was determined to change everyone’s horrible opinion about the old man.

It was eye opening for everyone. Even Park Jongsong, the scary older student, couldn’t come up with a counter attack and stared wide eyed at the screen in front of the class. It was freeing, knowing that just a bit of courage and kindness could lead you to such wonderful moments. He changed everyone’s opinion about ‘Killer Kang’. And he managed to make an old sad man happy again.

After school, the kind student hurried over to Mr. Kangs house. In bright daylight, the garden looked like a battlefield with tons and tons of freshly digged soil laying all around. Now with a much happier feeling, Jungwon crossed the chaotic lawn, knocking energetically onto the old wodden door. After a while he still hadn’t heard any steps so he tried knocking again. “Mr. Kang? It’s Jungwon. I wanted to show you the finished project. It went amazing.” The boy excitedly bounced on the balls of his feet, too giddy to stand still. There was still no answer, so Jungwon made his way towards the backyard, now being familiar with every inch. He had a weird feeling in the pit of his stomache.

And when he saw the open veranda, the old man sitting in his mould on the old couch, Jungwon let out a relieved breath. With careful steps not to step inside one of the many holes in the ground, he made its way over to Mr. Kang, not without knocking on the wall outside. Still no answer. Maybe he hasn’t heard it or he was sleeping. Jungwon waddled over to the familiar couch, seeing Mr. Kang sitting in his usual spot with his eyes closed. He looked so peaceful, Jungwon first thought the old man was sleeping tightly. Yet when there was still no answers or reactions from his side and when he noticed there was no movement of his upper body, he understood…

Mr. Kang passed away last night. Tears welled up in Jungwons eyes and he heavily let them flow when he saw all the contents of the metallic box scattered around the small desk in front of him. The photos, sorted into time accuracy, the book untouched, the adorable drawings of his young daughter, the green giraffe smiling cheekily at him. The pink letter was open and the neat handwriting was still the same as yesterday. And in Mr. Kangs hands, layed the pink toy dolphin.

Jungwon went onto his knees beside him on the fluffy carpet, letting his hot tears fall freely without restrictions. He may had lost a friend today but he knew deep down, the old kind man was happily reunited with his family. He had gained everything he lost. And for that…how could Jungwon still be sad?

For now and forever, the courageous 14 year old boy, who acted righteous and kind, carried Kang Taehyuns life story out into the wide world, spread his last words so no one would forget the once mysterious man everyone feared to look at. Kang Taehyun, a man who got everything he wished for and then got it taken away from him. A man, who loved dearly. A man, whose story would never be forgotten.

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